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A WOMAN'S LIFE-WORK:
LABORS AND EXPERIENCES
OF
LAURA S. HAVILAND.
DEDICATION
to
My two sons, and four daughters, and families;
also to the
Home and Foreign Missionary Society,
are these pages dedicated.
The Author
PREFACE.
In presenting the following pages to the public, without the trace of
an excellent scholar or eloquent orator, I fully realize my inability
to compete with writers of the nineteenth century. With this
incompetency in view, I have hesitated and delayed until three-score
and thirteen years are closing over me. Yet as I am still spared to
toil on a little longer in the great field so white to harvest, praying
the Lord of the harvest to arm and send forth more laborers, because
they are too few, I ask an indulgent public to allow my deep and
abiding sympathies for the oppressed and sorrowing of every nation,
class, or color, to plead my excuse for sending forth simple,
unvarnished facts and experiences, hoping they may increase an
aspiration for the active doing, instead of saying what ought to be
done, with excusing self for want of ability, when it is to be found in
Him who is saying, "My grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is
perfect in weakness."
LAURA S. HAVILAND.
OCTOBER, 1881.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.
EARLY LIFE.
Parentage--Early Impressions--Childhood Skepticism--Religious
Experience--The Great Leveler--Marriage--Removal to Michigan--The
Semi-Christian--The Despairing Backslider
Restored--Proscription--Withdrawal from the Society of Friends--Founded
"Raisin Institute,"
CHAPTER II.
BEREAVEMENTS.
Dream--Bereavements--Early Widowhood--Trials--Dreamy--Victory by
Faith--A Fugitive Slave Escapes--Marriage of two Older Children,
CHAPTER III.
ANTI-SLAVERY EXPERIENCES.
Baptist Deacon Convicted of the Sin of Slavery by his Slave--Willis
Hamilton's Escape with his Slave-wife, Elsie, to Canada--Removal to
Michigan--Whereabouts Discovered by Elsie's Master--Deeply Laid Scheme
to Capture the Hamilton Family--Threats of Violence--Second Attempt and
Defeat--Death of the two Slave-holders,
CHAPTER IV.
AN OHIO SCHOOL-TEACHER.
A Traveling Agent--Slave Claimant--John White--Threats--Visit to Jane
White--Interview with William Allen--Escape of Slaves--In
Suspense--Death of First-born--Comforting Dream--John White a
Prisoner--His Release and Subsequent History,
CHAPTER V.
THE UNDERGROUND RAILWAY.
Two Slave Families Escape--Story of George and James--A Mother and
Daughter Leave a Boat bound for the Lower Market--Sarah and two Young
Men join our Party--Seven are Conducted to Canada--Raisin Institute
Suspended for an Academic Year--Return to Cincinnati--Maria--Threats of
her Master--The Escape of two Young Men
CHAPTER VI.
FUGITIVE SLAVES ASSISTED.
Clara and Three Children Rescued--Jack Betrayed and Returned to
Bondage--A Little Nurse Girl taken from her Owners in Cincinnati--How
Zack was Saved--Calvin Fairbanks Visited in Prison--Fugitive Slaves
Forwarded
CHAPTER VII.
CHRISTIAN AND EDUCATIONAL WORK.
Visiting and Nursing the Sick--Nine Slaves Arrive from
Kentucky--Richard Dillingham Dies in Tennessee Penitentiary--Seven
Slaves Conducted to Freedom--Teach Six Months in Toledo
CHAPTER VIII.
FUGITIVES IN CANADA.
Mission Among the Fugitives in Canada--Religious Revival--Organization
of a Christian Union Church--Efforts of Missourians to Retake the
Fugitive Slave, William Anderson, from Canada--The Kentucky Slave-owner
Whipped in the Old Barracks in Windsor in his Effort to Decoy Three
Young Men back to Slavery--Reopening School
CHAPTER IX.
RESCUE OF SLAVES.
Escape of a Slave Family of Six--A Slave Man Travels for a White Man
and Succeeds--Trip to Arkansas--The Story of George Wilson--The
Slave-daughter under Mortgage Released by her Mother--Mintie Berry
Purchases her Husband--John Brown Hanged--The War Opens and takes
Seventeen Students of Raisin Institute--First Trip to the Front with
Supplies
CHAPTER X.
HOSPITAL WORK.
Cairo--Incidents Preparatory to Removing Freedmen's Camp to Island No.
10--Death of a Child--Disbursing Supplies and other Mission Work on the
Island--Story of Uncle Stephen--Hospital Visiting in Memphis,
Tennessee--Surgeon Powers Reported--Forty Slaves come into Camp
Shiloh--Seven Slaves come from a Plantation seven miles below
Memphis--First Enlistment of Colored Soldiers--Mission Work in Columbus,
Kentucky--Young Colored Man Shot by his Young Master--Turning of
Tables--Return Home--Our Principal, E. A. Haight, Enlisted
CHAPTER XI.
SANITARY WORK.
Organized Freedmen's Relief Association--Solicit Supplies--Academic
Year Opened for 1863-4--Sister Backus and Self leave for Fields of
Suffering--Incidents on the Way--Mission Work in Natchez,
Mississippi--Four Hundred Slaves Hanged and otherwise Tortured--Visit
to the Calaboose--Mission Work in Baton Rouge--Arrival at New
Orleans--Sketch of Persecutions
CHAPTER XII.
MISSION WORK IN NEW ORLEANS.
Mission Work in New Orleans--Soldiers and Prisoners Visited on Ship
Island--Petition of Seventy Soldier Prisoners in behalf of Three
Thousand of their Fellow Prisoners--Appeal in behalf of Ship Island and
Tortugas Prisoners--Mission Work at Plaquemine--Natchez--Capture of a
Rebel steamer--Arrival at Home--Release of the Three Thousand Banished
Union Soldiers
CHAPTER XIII.
FREEDMEN'S AID COMMISSION.
Refugees in Kansas--Children of Want--Afflicted Family--Scenes of
Distress--Agnes Everett--Quantrell's Raid--Poor White
Trash--Hospitals--Supplies Distributed--Refugee Buildings--Orphan
Children--Haviland Home--Thomas Dean a Prisoner--Petition for
Pardon--Pardon Granted--A Southern Clergyman--Mission School--At
Harper's Ferry and Washington.
CHAPTER XIV.
HOME MISSION WORK.
Mission Work and Incidents in
Washington--Murders--Alexandria--Richmond, Virginia--Williamsburg--Fort
Magruder--Yorktown--Suicide--Gloucester Court-house--Fortress
Monroe--Norfolk--Return to Washington--White Woman Whipped.
CHAPTER XV.
EXPERIENCES AMONG FREEDMEN.
A Soldier Prisoner--Interesting
Statistics--Schools--Plantations--Incidents--Return to
Washington--Return Home with Fifteen Orphans and Fifty Laborers--Change
in Orphan Asylum--Mission Work in Covington and Newport,
Kentucky--Mission Work in Memphis, Tennessee--Uncle Philip a Remarkable
Man--Return Home.
CHAPTER XVI.
STATE PUBLIC SCHOOL.
Board of Directors Arrange for Closing the
Home--Discouragements--Relief Comes by
Sleigh-loads--Encouragements--Petitions to the State Legislature to
make the Home a State Institution--Petitions Granted, and the Orphan's
Home becomes the "State Public School," located at Coldwater--Work in
State Public School.
CHAPTER XVII.
CHRISTIAN LABOR AND RESULTS.
Work for the Asylum--Again in Washington--Mission Work--Trial of Henry
Wirtz--Inspecting Soup-houses--Incidents connected with Kendal Green
Camp--Peremptory Order of J. R. Shipherd Closing Asylum--Children
Scattered--Returned Home with Authority from American Missionary
Association to Reopen Asylum--Dangerous Fall--Restored to Asylum
Work--Overtaken with Convulsions--Answer to Prayer in being Restored.
CHAPTER XVIII.
PRESENT CONDITION OF THE FREEDMEN.
Kansas Freedmen's Relief Association--Testimony of Perry
Bradley--Incidents--Persecutions--Prof. Greener--Colored
Republicans--Further Testimony--Negro Woman Killed--Letter from the
South--Atrocities--Refugees in Kansas--Bull-dosing--Kansas
Overfull--Protection Needed--Michael Walsh--Silver Linings.
CHAPTER XIX.
PROSPECTS OF THE FREEDMEN.
Supplies Furnished--Relief Association at Work--Northern
Outrages--Prudence Crandall--Colored Schools--Freedmen's Aid
Schools--Industrial and Agricultural Institute.
ILLUSTRATIONS.
STEEL PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR
THE SLAVEHOLDERS' THREATS.
SLAVE IRONS.
CLARK UNIVERSITY FOR FREEDMEN (CHRISMAN HALL).
MEHARRY MEDICAL COLLEGE.
CHAPTER I.
EARLY LIFE.
At the earnest solicitation of many dear friends I have consented to
leave on record some of the incidents that have fallen under my
personal observation during three-score and ten years.
My father, Daniel Smith, was a native of Eastern New York, and for many
years an approved minister in the Society of Friends. He was a man of
ability and influence, of clear perceptions, and strong reasoning
powers.
My mother, Sene Blancher, was from Vermont; was of a gentler turn, and
of a quiet spirit, benevolent and kind to all, and much beloved by all
who knew her, and was for many years an elder in the same Society.
It is due to my parents to say, if I have been instrumental, through
the grace of God, to bless his poor and lowly of earth, by adapting
means to ends in relieving suffering humanity, it is largely owing to
their influence.
Soon after their marriage, they removed to Kitley Township, county of
Leeds, Canada West (now known as Ontario), where I was born, December
20, 1808. I well remember the perplexities and doubts that troubled my
young mind in trying to find the whys and wherefores of existing facts;
yet I was naturally a happy and playful child. Some remarks made by my
parents over a portion of Scripture father was reading, in which was
the sentence, "and they are no more twain, but one flesh"--"that is a
close relationship; twain is two, no more two but one flesh"--struck me
with wonder and amazement. "Yes," replied mother, "that is a oneness
that is not to be separated, a near relation between husband and wife;
'no more twain, but one flesh.' 'What God has joined together let not
man put asunder.'" It seemed as if every word fastened upon my mind a
feeling of awe at the new thought, that father and mother were one
person. "Then they think just alike, and know all about the other, if
true; father and mother believe it, and they found it in the Bible, and
that," I thought, "must be true. Now for the test--If father and mother
are one, they must know each other's thoughts and whereabouts." After
father had been out a few minutes I asked mother where he was. "Not far
off; may be he's gone to the barn." But he was not there. At my report
she said, "Perhaps he's gone to David Coleman's, or some of the
neighbors." This settled the matter in my mind, that they were not one.
But I gave the same test to try father, which also proved a failure.
But not quite satisfied without further investigation, I asked mother
for permission to go to David Coleman's to play an hour with his little
girls. Little did she know that the object of her little five-year-old
skeptic was to present the test to their father and mother, to see
whether they were one, and found the same result each time.
This settled the question in my mind that one thing in the Bible was
untrue. Father and mother were mistaken in that part of the Bible that
said husband and wife were no more two, but one. For a long time after
this, whenever the Bible was referred to as authority, I would think,
"It may be true, and may not, because I tried one thing it said that
was not true."
Another mystery was hard for me to solve. In asking mother where we
should go if we should jump off the edge of the world, she replied,
"There is no jumping off place, because our world is round, like a
ball, and takes one day and night to roll around, and that makes day
and night." After the little child of six years had studied over this
mysterious problem a short time, she returned with the query, "Why
don't we drop off while underside? and why don't the water spill out
off Bates's creek and our well?" She replied, "Water, as well as every
thing else, is always kept in place by a great law, called gravitation,
that our Heavenly Father made when he made the world," and she said I
would understand more about it when older. But this did not satisfy me;
I wanted to know all about it _then_. As soon as father came in queries
were repeated, but he closed as mother did, that I must wait until I
was older, which made me almost impatient to be old enough to know how
these things could be.
Another subject occupied my childish mind a long time, and was
investigated to the extent of the miniature ability I possessed. And
that was the interesting fact that I discovered one bright evening
while looking at the stars, that our house was just in the middle of
the world; and when we went to grandfather's (a distance of seven
miles), as soon as it was night, I was out in the yard measuring the
distance by stars, but to my surprise, grandfather's house was just in
the middle. For I tried it all around the house, and went to the barn
with my uncles, and could discover no variation. Consequently I must
have been mistaken at home. But on our return I could not find by the
stars but that we were just in the center of creation. Whenever I went
with my parents to a neighbor's for an evening's visit, my first and
foremost thought was to see how far to one side they were. But I always
found myself just in the center of this great world; just as grown-up
children are prone to think their own nation is ahead in arts and
sciences, of all other nations--their own State ahead of all other
States in moral and intellectual improvements--their own town or city,
like Boston, the "hub of the universe." In fact, _we_ are about the
center; our pets more knowing, and our children smarter, than can be
found elsewhere. But as the study of astronomy gives ability to look
upon the vast universe of thousands of worlds much larger than our own,
revolving in their orbits, it develops our intellectual faculties, and
enables us to view the concave appearance of the ethereal blue from a
standpoint widely differing from the occupancy of the center. And when
supreme self is melted away by faith in the blood of the covenant, our
spiritual vision becomes clearer and our miniature minds are expanding,
and we learn to make due allowances for the acts and opinions of
others, that we have called peculiar, because they do not quite accord
with our own usages and tastes.
In 1815 my father removed with his family to Cambria, Niagara County,
Western New York, then a wilderness. Soon after we were settled in our
new home, we lost my baby brother Joseph, which made a deep impression
upon my young heart, and gave me great uneasiness in regard to my own
future happiness, should I be taken away. I found great relief, one
day, while listening to a conversation between father and grandfather,
as to what age children were responsible to their Creator. Father gave
his opinion that ten years, in the generality of children, is the age
that God would call them to an account for sin. Grandfather said that
was about the age he thought children were accountable, and all
children that die previous to that age are happily saved in heaven.
"Yes," said father; "where there is no law there is no transgression."
At this great relief to my troubled heart, I ran out to play with my
brother Harvey, to tell him how long we would be safe, if we should
die, for father and grandfather said children that died before they
were ten years old would go to heaven, and I would be safe almost two
years, and he would be safe a good while longer (as he was two years
and a half younger than myself). "Oh, yes," said he; "and Ira will be
safe a great many years, 'cause he's little, if he should die as little
Josie did." This earliest conviction of sin vanished like the morning
cloud. This idea was so deeply embedded in my young mind, that whenever
I heard of a child's death, my first inquiry was for its age.
If under ten, I was at ease over its safety; but if over ten years, I
was distressed unless I could hear of some words from the one taken
away, that would indicate a preparation for the change of worlds. The
vividness of those early childhood impressions are frequent reminders
of the importance of giving clear explanations to children, in regard
to important religious truths, as their young hearts are much more
impressible than is generally conceded.
EARLY IMPRESSIONS OF SLAVERY AND RELIGION.
During the first six years in our new home, there was no school within
three miles of us, and all the privilege we enjoyed of this kind was a
spelling lesson given daily to three of us, the two little girls of our
nearest neighbor and myself. Our mothers pronounced the words for us
alternately, at their house and ours. In this way we spelled our book
through a number of times. This privilege, with four months in school
previous to leaving Canada, proved a great blessing. As I possessed an
insatiable thirst for knowledge, I borrowed all the easy readers I
could find in the neighborhood. I was especially interested in memoirs
of children and youth, which increased my frequent desire to become a
Christian. I wished to read every book that came within my reach. I
read a few of father's books, designed for more mature minds. I became
deeply interested in John Woolman's history of the slave-trade, of the
capture and cruel middle passage of negroes, and of the thousands who
died on their voyage and were thrown into the sea to be devoured by
sharks, that followed the slave-ship day after day. The pictures of
these crowded slave-ships, with the cruelties of the slave system after
they were brought to our country, often affected me to tears; and I
often read until the midnight hour, and could not rest until I had read
it twice through. My sympathies became too deeply enlisted for the poor
negroes who were thus enslaved for time to efface.
The third or fourth I had ever seen of that race was an old man called
Uncle Jeff. He seemed to serve any one who called upon him for chores,
in our little village of Lockport, that grew up as by magic upon the
Erie Canal. Uncle Jeff was frequently employed by merchants to cry off
their stale articles on the street. At one time the old man, whose head
was almost as white as wool, was crying, "Gentlemen and ladies' black
silk stockin's of all colors for sale," holding them up to view as he
passed along the street, followed by a group of boys crying out,
"Nigger, nigger," and throwing grass and clay at him. At length he
turned to these half-grown boys, looking very sad, as he said, "Boys, I
am just as God made me, an' so is a toad." At this the boys slunk away;
and I felt very indignant in seeing the men who were standing near only
laugh, instead of sharply reproving those ill-behaved children.
Another colored man, named Ben, came to our town with a family who
opened an inn. He was employed mostly in the kitchen, and while Ben was
asleep on the kitchen floor, some rude boys put a quantity of powder in
the back of his pants, and placing a slow match to it left the room,
but watched the process of their diabolical sport through a window, and
soon saw their victim blown up, it was said, nearly to the ceiling. His
hips and body were so badly burned that he was never able to sit or
stoop after this wicked act. He always had to walk with a cane, and
whenever too weary to stand, was compelled to lie down, as his right
hip and lower limb were stiffened. Yet little notice was taken of this
reckless act, but to feed and poorly clothe this life-long cripple, as
he went from house to house, because he was of that crushed and
neglected race.
RELIGIOUS IMPRESSIONS AND EXPERIENCE.
In the Autumn of my thirteenth year, with our parents' permission,
brother Harvey and I attended a little prayer-meeting at our Uncle Ira
Smith's house, near by. Here was singing, experiences given, with
prayer and exhortations, in which young people, as well as those more
advanced in years, took part. All this was new to me, having never
attended any other meeting than of Friends, usually called Quakers. My
father being a minister and mother an elder in that denomination, they
were very conscientious in training their children in all the usages,
as well as principles, of that sect. At this Methodist prayer-meeting a
young girl, but little older than myself, related her experience, and
prayed so earnestly for her young associates, that it took a deep hold
on my mind; and on my way home, on that beautiful evening, I resolved
to seek the Lord until I could know for myself that my sins were
forgiven. Oh, how I wished I was a Christian, as was Hannah Bosworth.
She was so young, and yet she told us how earnestly she sought the
Lord, and found Jesus so precious in the forgiveness of her sins. It
was said in that meeting that God was no respecter of persons, and that
I had read in the Bible; and then Jesus had said, "Suffer little
children to come unto me, and forbid them not;" "and now, this very
night, I _will_ begin to seek the Lord, and I _never_ will give up
trying, if it takes as long as I live, until I receive an evidence that
I am the Lord's child. I want to realize that peace and joy those men
and women expressed in that meeting." As all had retired, I placed a
candle in my brother's hand, and hurried him to bed, that I might know
positively that no human ear could listen to my first attempt to
address my Heavenly Father.
I knelt for the first time in my life, in the rear of our corn crib,
but no words could I find for prayer, and a feeling of fear came over
me, and I arose to my feet. I looked all around me, but no one was in
sight; naught but trees and shrubs of the garden below, and the
ethereal blue, bedecked with the beautiful moon and sparkling stars,
above. Is it possible that He who created this beautiful world can
notice a little girl like me? And the thought occurred that I had
better wait until I was older. But the remarks to which I had just
listened came vividly before me, and I renewed my resolve to pray to
Him who had said, "Suffer little children to come unto me," and again
knelt for prayer; but that feeling of fear increased, until it seemed
as if some one was about to place a hand upon my shoulder, and I again
found myself on my feet. But as no one was in sight, I queried whether
this was not the enemy of my soul, to keep me from prayer, and fell
upon my knees a third time, determined to remain in the position of
prayer until my first petition to my Heavenly Father was presented. And
the prayer of the publican was repeated over and over again, "God be
merciful to me a sinner." These words above all others seemed just for
me. I was a sinner, and mercy was what I wanted. I returned to the
house with a still more fixed resolve to continue asking, with a firmer
purpose never to give over until the evidence of pardoning love was
mine. As I retired, I knelt by my bedside, and repeated the same
prayer, with a few additional words, imploring the aid of the Holy
Spirit to teach me the way of life, and penitential tears began to
flow. Before I slept my pillow was wet with tears, and was turned for a
dry place. As I was reading the Bible through by course, it became more
of a companion than ever before.
The next prayer-meeting was attended, and as they knelt during the
season of prayer I felt an impression to kneel with them. But the cross
was very great and I did not yield. I thought if I did so it would be
reported to my parents, and they would probably forbid my coming to
these little meetings, which I so highly prized. But this was
unprofitable reasoning, increasing the burden instead of bringing the
relief sought. I wept on my way home, and in my evening supplication
renewed my promise to be more faithful, let others do or say what they
would, if the like impression was ever again experienced. With
permission I attended the next prayer-meeting at my uncle's, and, as if
to test my faithfulness, two young women of my intimate associates came
in, and sat one on each side of me. At the first season of prayer, as I
did not have that impression, I felt quite at ease, and thankful to my
Father in heaven for excusing me. But the next united supplication, I
felt that I must unite with them in kneeling, and while one tried to
pull me up by the arm, with saying "I'd be a little dunce if I was in
thy place," the other sister pinched the other arm, "Now, Laura Smith,
be a little Methodist, will thee? I'd be ashamed if I was thee; every
body will make fun of thee." But I kept my position and made no reply,
but secretly prayed for strength in my great weakness. But my fears
were fully realized. It was at once reported that Laura Smith would be
a Methodist if allowed by her parents. And for a long time no
permission was given to attend those little prayer-meetings, my parents
assigning this reason: "This Methodist excitement is unprofitable,
especially for children. They have an overheated zeal, that is not
according to knowledge, and we do not think it best for thee to attend;
we want our children at a suitable age to be actuated by settled
principle, not mere excitement." This reasoning by my dear father
strongly tempted me to give up my resolutions altogether. Until I was
eighteen I felt no liberty whatever in unburdening my troubled heart to
my dear parents. They were unacquainted with the longings of my poor
soul. Like the lone sparrow upon the house-top, I mourned many weeks,
sought the solitary place for reading my Bible, and prayer; often
watered my pillow with tears, and longed for the day, and during the
day longed for the night, in which I might pour out my sorrows to my
Heavenly Father out of sight of human eye. I was conscious that my
sadness was troubling my dear parents. Oh! how I prayed for light to
dispel this darkness and doubt--sometimes ready to conclude that, as it
was my duty to obey my parents, the Lord would excuse me in waiting
until I was of age. Yet in reading the many precious promises of the
Lord Jesus, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I
will give you rest;" "Seek, and ye shall find," I found fresh courage.
But why do I not find this rest for this weary heart? Why do I not find
the way to seek for the hidden treasure I so much longed for? These
queries were continually revolving in my mind, without a satisfactory
solution. Sometimes I almost concluded that God was too good to send
the beings he created for his own glory to perdition to all eternity,
and all would ultimately be saved; at other times, I could not
reconcile universal salvation with the parable of Lazarus and the rich
man, and was ready to conclude that salvation was for the elected few,
and there were those who could not be saved, and I was among the lost.
In one of these seasons, of almost despair, I ventured to attend a
Methodist meeting held in a private house, in company with my uncle.
Being at his house, I did not go home for permission. The minister was
a plainly dressed man; the opening hymn was new to me, but every line
seemed especially for me:
"God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform"
It was read and sung in an impressive manner. The fourth stanza seemed
specially suited to my case:
"Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He bides a smiling face."
This gave new light, new courage, and fresh hope sprang up, like
streaks of the morning sunbeam in the Eastern sky, preluding the full
blaze of the orb of day. The prayer and the text upon which he based
his remarks were all flowing in the same channel. The exhortation was
to the discouraged and despairing soul to remember that the darkest
time of night was just before the break of day, a remark I had never
before heard. I returned home stronger than ever before, and ventured
to tell mother of the good sermon preached by Isaac Puffer. But she was
again troubled, and reminded me of those we read of in Scripture, who
would compass sea and land to gain one proselyte, that when gained,
"were twofold more the child of hell than themselves." She also said
that my uncles would be well pleased to have me go with them. I assured
her that neither of my four Methodist uncles had ever intimated a word
to me on the subject. "But," said she, "actions sometimes speak louder
than words." This was not designed to discourage me, but darker than
ever was the cloud of unbelief that filled my heart. Was Isaac Puffer a
child of hell? then there is nothing in religion, with any body. It was
all a farce--all mere "overheated zeal, not according to knowledge."
All mere "religious excitement." I well-nigh distrusted all religion,
and father's and mother's religion was the same as others, of no value.
I had groped my way in midnight darkness, trying to find the true way,
when there was none. In this despairing state, while on my way to my
grandfather's on an errand, I halted to listen to the mournful notes of
the forest birds at my left; I looked upon the field of waving grain at
my right, and burst into a flood of tears as I exclaimed, Oh, what a
sin-stricken world is this! Every head of wheat is bowed in mourning
with poor me! Is there no balm in Gilead? is there no physician there
to heal this sin-stricken world, this sin-sick soul of mine? Like a
flash the answer came, Yes, Jesus is that balm; he shed his own
precious blood for me on Calvary, that I might live now, and for
evermore! Yes, the healing balm is applied, and I _am saved!_ Oh, what
a fountain is opened for cleansing! My peace was like an overflowing
river. It seemed as if I could almost live without breathing--my tears
were brushed away by the breath of heaven. I stood a monument of
amazing mercy, praising God with every breath. All nature praising,
instead of mourning as it did a few moments before. O, how changed the
scene! The birds now sent forth their notes of praise! The leaves of
the forest clapped their hands for joy, and the branches waved with
praise! Every head of wheat was now bowed in sweet submission. O, what
a leveling of all nations of the earth was this baptism. I had been
prejudiced against the Irish people, as I never had seen one of that
nation until they came to our town, Lockport (as it was then called),
by hundreds, to work on the Erie canal, that ran through a part of
father's farm; and as they were frequently passing our house drunk, I
was afraid of them. But now every soul seemed so precious, I thought I
could toil all my life long if I could become instrumental in bringing
one soul to the Savior who died to save sinners, though they might be
the greatest drunkards in that or any other nation. Jesus shed his
blood to redeem all who would by faith accept salvation so freely
offered. The African and Indian races were alike objects of redeeming
love. That was a fathomless fountain. After spending a little time in
this reverie, I went from this hallowed place to accomplish my errand,
and met a neighbor, who looked at me earnestly and said, "Laura, what's
the matter? are you sick?" "O, no; I'm not sick," and hurried on. And
the first greeting I received from grandfather was the same query, who
received the same reply. I left for home as soon as the errand was
accomplished, but as I was passing out of the door I met my Uncle
Americus with the same query, who also received the same answer. Oh,
how I wished father and mother could understand me, and the
overwhelming sorrow I had waded through in search of this satisfying
portion.
If any little differences arose among my younger brothers and sister,
all melted away with a word from me. This unalloyed peace remained with
me a number of days, and when the time arrived for the appointed
prayer-meeting at Uncle Ira's, I had a great desire to attend it, and I
hoped, by asking for permission to go, mother might ask for my reason.
In this I was disappointed with a denial. However, I continued to pray
to Him who owned me as his child, to prepare the way in his own time.
My anxiety increased to do something for my dear Savior, who indeed was
chief among ten thousand. I could drop a few words here and there, but
with great timidity, but nothing of my experience in this new life;
that was hid with Christ in God. I was anxious to attend that little
prayer-meeting, where my mind first was arrested on the subject of my
soul's best interests. I often dreamed of earnestly praying or
exhorting in that prayer-meeting, and would awaken myself in the
exercise. I had a longing desire to invite to this gospel feast others,
especially my young associates.
As Isaac Puffer had an appointed meeting at a brother Crane's, half a
mile distant, on Sabbath at four o'clock P. M., I asked father for
permission to attend, hoping thereby to find liberty to open my pent-up
feelings to my dear parents, who so little understood me. But my hopes
were vain. Father said, in reply, "Laura, I want thee never to ask me
to go to a Methodist meeting again."
O, what a blow was this for my trembling frame! The door closed more
tightly than ever before. Not one word could I utter. I left the room,
to find my old resort in the grove, to weep bitter tears of
disappointment. But widely different was this burden, now resting upon
my heart, from that mountain weight of sin and transgression borne a
few weeks previously. I read a few days before of the baptism of the
Lord Jesus, our perfect pattern. But he came to fulfill. Then I read of
Philip and the apostles who baptized after his ascension; and to my
young and limited understanding I accepted the water baptism as an
outward acknowledgment of the saving baptism of the Holy Ghost. I fully
believed I had received the spiritual baptism, but I greatly desired to
follow the Lord Jesus wherever he might lead. I read "Barclay's
Apology" on that subject; yet my childhood mind dwelt much on what I
read in these Bible examples. But to no human being did I present these
impressions. And I also found the example of singing, that I believed
was _vocal_, as I read, "And they sang a hymn and went out." And it
seemed right, for the present, for me to unite with the Methodists,
were it not for the opposition of my parents, that I felt sure would
not exist could they but understand me. It also seemed clearly
impressed upon my mind that, if my mind should become clear to unite
with that branch of the Christian Church, it would be for eighteen or
twenty years at longest. But why not always be my place, if it is my
duty now? was a query that I much dwelt upon. I earnestly prayed that
God would send Caleb McComber to us, an intimate friend of my parents,
and a noted minister among Friends.
Within a week my heart leaped for joy at the announcement by my father
that Caleb McComber was in the neighborhood.
"What has brought him here at this time? His brother (Dr. Smith) is all
right; he has made no trouble of late in drinking," responded mother.
"I do not know, I am sure, what has induced him to come here at this
time, as there is no meeting of business on hand, for him to take this
journey of nearly a hundred miles to attend," rejoined father.
Ah, the Lord has heard and answered prayer! He has heard the cry of
this poor child "Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his
benefits." I could, with David, praise him with a full heart, and
sought a lone place to return thanksgiving and praise to him who had so
signally answered my petition, and was confident that the same
All-seeing Eye and Directing Hand would prepare the way for the desired
interview.
The following day being the Sabbath, we listened to a sermon by Caleb
McComber that was thought very singular at that day for a Friend. His
text was 1 Corinthians xii, 6 and 7; "And there are diversities of
operations, but it is the same God which worketh all in all." He
referred to the diversities of denominations, that were as families
composing the one true Church. And in this diversity of operations
there were those whose impressions of duty were clearly given in regard
to complying with outward ordinances, water baptism and the
Lord's-supper; and if these impressions were not complied with, a loss
would be sustained in spiritual life. And he exhorted to faithfulness
in obeying our Lord and Master. This discourse appeared as directly
addressed to this trembling child as did that of Isaac Puffer.
At the close of the meeting, said one of the elders to another, "Did
thou ever hear just such a sermon from a Friend? I thought it sounded
like a Presbyterian discourse." Said another: "What ails Caleb to-day.
I thought he preached like a Methodist." While these remarks were made
I felt confident we had listened to a message from the Great Head of
the true Church by his servant.
As he dined with our nearest neighbor, in company with his
half-brother, Dr. Isaac Smith, and wife, we all walked in company
nearly to our home, and the two young women invited me to call. I
accepted, with the excuse, for a drink of water (hoping for an
opportunity of telling that good man that I desired to have a talk with
him, and for that purpose would call after dinner).
But while waiting for the glass of water, said Caleb McComber, "Child,
how old art thou?"
The reply was, "Thirteen."
"I want thee to tell thy father and mother to come I here at three
o'clock this afternoon, and I want thee to come with them."
I gladly performed my errand, and at three P. M. we were there. After a
little space of silence he addressed the heads of families present,
then directed his remarks to us (the two young women and myself), at
first rather general. Then he said: "I want to say to one of you that
thou hast passed through an experience far beyond thy years; thou hast
known what it was to ask for deliverance from sorrow and darkness, and
thou hast also known what it was to receive the answer of peace from
thy Heavenly Father that the world knows not of. Hold fast that thou
hast received, that no man take thy crown. Be faithful in the little,
and more will be given. Bear in mind that little things are little
things, but to be faithful in little things is something great."
With exhortations to faithfulness and encouragement, this was to me an
undoubted evidence that He whose ear is ever open to the cry of his
children had most signally answered prayer in this clear and definite
searching of my heart. Very near and dear was that faithful
nursing-father brought to this little child's heart. With all freedom,
I could have related to him the obstacles that appeared in the way of
duty with me. But at that hour my feelings were too deep for utterance.
Instead of remaining longer, as was my impression, I returned home with
my parents, with the view of returning for a more private interview
when I could better command my feelings.
When about to return, I began to reason over the propriety of going
back. Certainly that good man had said all I could ask, both in his
sermon and in the religious opportunity in the family. And now there
might be danger of going too far. And there are those two young women,
who made sport of me in that prayer-meeting, where I knelt while others
led in prayer. Now they would make more sport than ever, as there are
so many there I could not speak to him without their knowing it, and I
shrank from going. I feared John Bunyan's "lions in the way;" but if I
had been faithful I would have found them chained, as were his. For it
was hard for me to give up the more private interview, as I was very
anxious to secure an interview between that minister and my dear
parents, as I was sure he understood me much better than they. But I
neglected my duty in this. O, how weak was human nature!
I had previously thought I would never again offend my loving Savior,
but would follow him through evil as well as good report. O, how
precious his cleansing blood appeared to me! It seemed as if the drops
that fell in his agony in the Garden of Gethsemane possessed power to
cleanse a world of sin and pollution. Yet I was not faithful in the
little. Although my parents never after forbade my going to a Methodist
or any other meeting, yet I saw it grieved them as I frequently
attended those prayer-meetings, but never to the neglect of our own,
and was often impressed to speak or offer prayer, but did not yield. I
found, to my sorrow, that these omissions produced poverty of soul, and
often cried, "O, my leanness! my leanness!" In secret many tears were
shed over the loss of that joy that had been my experience.
Little by little the candle of the Lord that shone so brightly became
dim, and at the close of one year I sought the society of the gay and
mirthful, more effectually to drown my bitter regrets for having turned
aside from the path so clearly marked out for me. I fully realized that
the dark cloud overshadowing me was the result of disobedience.
In company with a few of my companions, I attended the funeral of an
infant in our town. The service was conducted by a Baptist minister,
who had just come into the place. There was nothing in his remarks that
attracted my special attention. After the meeting closed, and people
were leaving, the minister passed on a little distance, and turned
back, as if something had been forgotten. Pressing through the crowd,
he ascended the porch, and came directly to me, looking earnestly at
me, as he reached his hand for mine, saying:
"I felt as if I could not leave this place without asking this young
woman a few questions. Have you ever experienced religion?"
This came upon me like a clap of thunder, he, being an entire stranger,
asking a question I never had occasion to answer. I hesitated, as I had
never intimated a word of my experience to any human being. My first
thought was to deny, but like a flash came the words of Jesus, "He that
denieth me before men, him will I also deny before my Father and his
holy angels. No; I can not--I will not, though I die. With this thought
I frankly replied:
"I think I have."
"Do you now enjoy it?"
"I do not"
This relieved me from the dilemma of being a disgrace to the cause of
Christ, as a number of my gay companions were with me, also those
Christian young people to whom I had listened with interest in prayer
and exhortations. But searching remarks from him followed. Still
holding my hand, he said:
"You have known of earnest pleading for the pardon of sin; and you have
known what it was to rejoice, as your prayers were answered. You have
known your duty, and did it not, and have brought yourself into
darkness. Do not occupy this dangerous ground longer. Return to jour
first love. Do your first work over; and He who is abundant in mercy
will again accept you. May God grant his blessing upon you! Good bye."
And he left me bathed in tears.
These earnest words reopened the many wounds that many neglected duties
had made. I could not doubt but Elder Winchell was as truly sent from
God to deliver this message as was Caleb McComber, for whom I prayed in
my distress. But now the Holy Spirit had sought me out, unasked for, to
warn me of the danger in the effort to occupy neutral ground, as I had
concluded to do until I was of age. I saw more clearly that I was
responsible to my Savior, who had done great things for me, whereof I
did rejoice with exceeding great joy.
Again my Bible became my daily companion, with prayer for my Savior's
directing hand. But my parents were again troubled, as those first
impressions returned in full force. I intimated my condition of mind to
my parents, but, with my natural timidity, not as freely as I ought.
They still attributed these impressions to the influence of my
Methodist uncles, and considered their duty was to place these
restraints upon their child. Father and mother had requested to become
members of the Friends' Society while three of their children were
under seven years, and requested for us, making us equivalent to
birthright members, according to the usage of our Society. From the
time of my Christian experience, I was never in sympathy with the
system of birthright membership. I believed it to be a source of
weakness, instead of spiritual life in this or any other Christian
body, and that all members of the Church militant should become united
by a heart-felt experience. I fully realized the loss I was warned to
shun by yielding to the earnest desires of my dear parents, who were
conscientious in their restraint. They said, in after years, that they
were laboring under a mistake, as was their timid child, in not more
faithfully following those early impressions of duty. I was not
faithful in the little, consequently more was withheld. My great
mistake was the lack of faith, in not fully returning to my Father's
house, where the little wandering prodigal would have been received,
and the new best robe again granted, and the rough way would have been
made smooth, and the impassable mountain that seemed to rise so high
would have melted away before the life-giving beams of the Sun of
righteousness. But I yielded to my timidity, and the conclusion was
reached to live a quiet Christian life, with my Bible and secret
communing with my dear Lord and Savior in secret prayer, as I could not
give up a strictly religious life. But dimly did die lamp of life burn,
compared with its former brightness.
The greatest source of retrograding in the divine life is
unfaithfulness in the performance of known duty. Many of the clouds
that overshadow us we bring by withholding more than is meet, and it
tends to poverty of soul. The talent committed to our charge is to be
occupied, and is always doubled when occupied by its possessor; but, as
I saw many, in whom I had confidence as living a quiet Christian
life--and this was more congenial to my natural feeling--I reached the
conclusion to make my Bible and secret prayer my companions as long as
I lived, and a Christian life in the Society of my parents' choice.
At the early age of sixteen I became acquainted with Charles Haviland,
Jr., a young man who was acquainted with the Savior's pardoning love,
whose father and mother were both acknowledged ministers in the Society
of Friends. From him I accepted a proposition of marriage, and on the
3d of 11th month, 1825, our marriage was consummated at Friends'
Meeting, in Lockport, Niagara County, New York, according to the usage
of Friends. The following Spring we commenced housekeeping in our own
home, in Boyalton Township, nine miles east of Lockport, and my dear
parents and family removed to Michigan Territory. Although parting from
them was severe, yet with my young and devoted husband I was contented
and happy as was possible to be, with so many reminders of the cloud
that rested over me in my spiritual horizon, with all my constant
striving for its removal. Phoebe Field, an eminent minister among
Friends, appointed a meeting in our neighborhood, in which she dwelt
upon the necessity of receiving daily nourishment from the true and
living Vine to become fruit-bearing branches, and remarked that there
were those whose religious experience seemed divergent from the manner
in which they were brought up, and through unfaithfulness had well-nigh
lost sight of the highway of holiness, in the mistaken view of
neutrality, when there was not an inch of such ground all the way from
years of responsibility to the grave. We are gathering with Christ or
scattering abroad. This earnest discourse so clearly defined my own
condition, that I renewed my many broken vows, and was almost persuaded
to yield the unsubdued will, and hope was indulged that the Father of
unbounded mercy, in his illimitable love, would again reveal himself in
breaking the bread of life.
September, 1829, we removed to Michigan Territory, and settled in
Raisin, Lenawee County, within three miles of my parents, brothers, and
sister, with our two little sons, to share with others the privations
of a new country, as well as advantages of cheap land. As there were a
number of our Society in this vicinity, a Friends' Meeting was
organized, in which we all had an interest, and endeavored to maintain
it in the usual order of our Society. But no true peace was mine, I was
still a wanderer from the true Church militant. I once knew the good
Shepherd's voice, but was now too far away to recognize it. In these
sad remembrances I sought a subterfuge behind which to hide in a false
rest. Eagerly I read a book on that subject, and drank its plausible
arguments without stint. It was a panacea, a temporary opiate to quiet
the vacillating condition of a restless mind; yet my Bible was not laid
aside, and many portions of Scripture were vigilantly brought to prove
this specious error to be a radical truth; and two years in this dead
faith I lived a dying life. But I found my investigations were not for
the whole truth, but was dwelling upon the love and benevolence of God
to the exclusion of justice as an attribute of the Lord, as well as
mercy, and decided to accept the whole truth, and abide its searchings;
and sought for it in the written Word diligently, as for hidden
treasures In reading Paul's epistle to the Hebrews, chapter vi, I
found, "It is impossible for those who were once enlightened and have
tasted of the heavenly gift, and were made partakers of the Holy Ghost,
and have tasted of the good Word of God, and the powers of the world to
come, if they shall fall away, to renew them again to repentance,
seeing they crucify to themselves the Son of God afresh, and put him to
an open shame." Oh, how these words thrilled my whole being! Again and
again they were reviewed. No Hope! no hope for a lost soul like mine!
were like burning coals upon my poor heart. I was once enlightened and
tasted of the heavenly gift; but how dark have been these years. Oh!
how soon did the lamp of life become dim through disobedience. I can
never again drink of that fountain of love that once filled my soul to
overflowing. But I had fallen away, and could never again be renewed,
having crucified to myself the Son of God afresh, and put him to an
open shame, by not honoring such a glorious Redeemer, as was my own
personal Savior. O, what delusion to have indulged in the vain hope
that I was serving him in a silent, quiet life, and then cover over all
this unrest with the idea that God was too abundant in mercy to cast
off any for whom he died to save. Day and night this terrible thought
followed me for months, "I am a lost soul! irretrievably lost. No hope!
Eternally lost!"
As I had never intimated to my dear companion the vacillating condition
of mind, and the effort in finding rest, neither should he be troubled
with the knowledge that his wife was a lost soul; neither should our
little ones on arriving to years of religious understanding ever know
that their mother was a lost soul. The midnight hour often witnessed
many bitter tears of regret over the awful thought. So near perfect
despair, I looked upon beast, bird, or even the most loathsome reptile,
and grudged their happiness of living and dying without responsibility.
These sad forebodings seriously affected my health, and my anxious
husband and parents feared some serious disease was preying upon me. I
sometimes thought the sooner I sank into the grave the better, as my
doom must be met. O, that I could but claim the privilege of the
prodigal, in returning to the Father's house, and of being accepted,
though a great way off. O that I never had been born! O that I had
followed that loving Savior's voice, so often clearly heard. It is now
too late, too late! O that I had returned to my first love when within
my reach. But I rejected the teaching of the Holy Spirit, and justly am
I now rejected. In this distressing despair I opened a little book--the
Christian experience of one whose exercises of the mind traced through
my own experience, even to my present despairing state, as nearly as I
could have related it in my own words. Through the instrumentality of a
similar experience in another, who was restored and was long a useful
Christian, I was encouraged to return, and found the healing balm.
Never can I forget the thrill of joy that ran through my whole being as
I laid aside that little book. I saw that I had misapprehended the
meaning of the passages of Scripture that seemed to describe my
condition, and that served to confirm my despair. I saw that those
referred to, had so far fallen, and so often rejected the Holy Spirit's
teachings, as not to realize their condition, and therefore lost sight
of the necessity of a Redeemer. This was not, nor ever had been, my
condition. Then I read Esau's seeking the blessing, "carefully with
tears," that I had also long dwelt upon as my condition. Here, too, was
a vivid thought, that he sought the lost blessing to subserve self,
instead of glorifying God. Here the bright star of hope pierced through
the cloud. Is it possible that I can go with confidence to that Father
who has so long borne with this unbelieving, doubting, rebellious
child? Why has he not cut off this cumberer of the ground long ago? His
long-suffering and unbounded mercy, O how free! how unfathomable! With
many tears of gratitude, mingled with new hope, new aspirations, the
bright beam of day radiating from every promise, I could now fully
accept the Lord Jesus as my mediator and restorer. By faith, I could
fully trust the poor prodigal in his hand. O, what losses we sustain
through unbelief. I have felt most easy in leaving my experience on
record, as a warning to young Christians to shun the depth of despair
into which I tank through unfaithfulness and unbelief. "By grace ye are
saved, through faith." Increasing faith, strength, and peace, with
restored health, was my rich experience.
ANTI-SLAVERY WORK.
Our family, with others, united with Elizabeth Margaret Chandler, who
organized in our neighborhood the first anti-slavery society in our
State. This was unsatisfactory to the ruling portion of our Society, as
it had cleared its skirts many years ago by emancipating all slaves
within its pale. Elizabeth M. Chandler was of the Hicksite division of
Friends, and as Presbyterians and other religious denominations came
into our anti-slavery society, meetings were frequently opened with
prayer, and that was thought to be "letting down the principles of
ancient Friends." And the subject of slavery was considered too
exciting for Friends to engage in, by many Friends of that day. I began
to query whether it would not be a relief to me, and also to my
friends, to become disconnected with that body, as I saw clearly my
path of duty would not be in accordance with the generality of our
Society. After making it a subject of earnest prayer, I became settled
as to the course to pursue, and concluded to unburden my heavy heart to
my parents as I had done, to my beloved companion, which I did after
our Sabbath meeting. We mingled our tears together. Father referred, to
the same proscribing spirit they exercised over me in my early
experience, that was now exercised over them. Father and mother wished
me to defer sending in my request to become disconnected with our
Society, as they, too, might think best to pursue the same course. This
was a severe trial for each of us. Father had been an acknowledged
minister of the Gospel nearly thirty years, and mother occupied the
station of an elder nearly the same time. We, too, had become active
members in this branch of the Christian Church. But the conclusion was
fully reached within two months after our little conference over this
important step, and the following letter of resignation was sent to our
business meeting:
"We, the undersigned, do say there is a diversity of sentiment existing
in the Society on the divine authority of the Holy Scriptures, the
resurrection of the dead, and day of judgment, justification by faith,
the effect of Adam's fall upon his posterity, and the abolition of
slavery, which has caused a disunity amongst us; and there being no
hope of a reconciliation by investigation, ministers being told by
ruling members that there is to be no other test of the soundness of
their ministry but something in their own breasts, thus virtually
denying the Holy Scriptures to be the test of doctrine;--we, therefore,
do wish quietly to withdraw from the Monthly Meeting, and thus resign
our right of membership with the Society of Friends."
This resignation was signed by Daniel Smith, Sene Smith, Charles
Haviland, Jun., Laura S. Haviland, Ezekiel Webb, Sala Smith, and
fourteen others. A few returned, but the greater united with other
Christian bodies, A few months after this there was a division in the
Methodist Episcopal Church, on account of slavery. They were called
Wesleyan Methodists. As this branch of our Father's family was the
nearest our own views, we were soon united with them. Our
testifications from Friends were said by other denominations to be
sufficient to be accepted as Church letters, as our offenses named
therein were "non-attendance of meetings for discipline, and attending
meetings not in accordance with the order of our Society." This was the
import of nearly or quite all who were disowned of our company. At that
day, all were dealt with as offenders, and were regularly disowned, as
our discipline at that time made no provisions for withdrawals. About a
year after this, the yearly meeting of Friends in Indiana divided on
the subject of slavery. No slavery existed in the society; yet its
discussion was deemed improper, and created disunity sufficient for
severing that body for a number of years, when they were invited to
return, without the necessity of acknowledgments.
About this time we opened a manual labor school on our premises,
designed for indigent children. With that object in view, we took nine
children from our county house (Lenawee), and I taught them, with our
four children of school age, four hours each day. The balance of the
day was divided for work and play. The girls I taught house-work,
sewing, and knitting. The boys were taken into the farm work by my
husband and brother Harvey Smith. As our county superintendents of the
poor gave us no aid, we found our means insufficient to continue our
work on this plane. After one year of this work we secured homes for
the nine children, except two invalids, who were returned to the county
house. We then placed our school on a higher plane, on the Oberlin plan
of opening the school for all of good moral character, regardless of
sex or color. At that day (1837) there was not a school in our young
State that would open its door to a colored person. And as my brother,
Harvey Smith, had attended the Oberlin Institute, he united with us in
this enterprise, and sold his new farm of one hundred and sixty acres,
and expended what he had in erecting temporary buildings to accommodate
about fifty students. The class of students was mostly of those
designing to teach. Our principals were from Oberlin during the first
twelve years of the "Raisin Institute." The first three years it was
conducted by P. P. Roots and his wife, Anna B., who were excellent
Christians. When they left, to open a similar institution at West
Point, Lee County, Iowa, John Patchin became their successor, and
conducted the school with equal ability three years. After uniting in
marriage with a teacher in Oberlin, he was assisted by his wife. These
thorough teachers earned for our institute the name of being one of the
best in our State. Students were sought for teachers in our own and
adjoining counties. Although our abolition principles were very
unpopular at that day, as we generally had from one to three colored
students in our school, yet the thorough discipline given in the
studies drew the young people of the best intellect from the
surrounding country. There were those who came from fifty to one
hundred miles to prepare for teaching or for a collegiate course.
Hundreds of young people who enjoyed the privileges our school afforded
came to us with their prejudices against colored people and our
position in regard to them; but they soon melted away, and went they
knew not where. It was frequently said if we would give up the vexed
abolition question, and let the negroes alone, Raisin Institute would
become the most popular school in the State.
As a sample of many others, I will notice a young lady from Jackson
County, who was brought to us by her father to become qualified for
teaching. But her sensibilities were so shocked at meeting in her
grammar-class a colored man that she returned to her room weeping over
her disgrace, and resolved to write her father to come and take her
home immediately. But the other young women persuaded her to attend the
recitations assigned her, when to her surprise the same young colored
man was in the advanced arithmetic class. And while impatiently waiting
for her father to come and take her from this "nigger school" (as she
and many others called it), a letter came from him advising her to
remain, as he had expended so much in fitting her for two or three
terms there; although if he had known that a negro would have been
allowed to attend her class he would not have taken her there. She soon
became reconciled, and before a half-term closed, when she threatened
to leave at all events (as she read her father's letter), she came to
that colored man to assist her in intricate parsing lessons. Before the
close of the first term she as frequently applied to James Martin, her
colored classmate, for assistance in solving difficult problems in
mathematics as to any of the others. She was one of our best students;
but this deep-rooted prejudice went, she knew not how, as with very
many others.
As to religious privileges in our school, our prayer-meetings were held
bi-weekly, Sabbath and Wednesday evenings, and ministers of various
denominations frequently appointed meetings in our school on the
Sabbath. While the Rev. John Patchin had charge of the institution he
generally preached Sabbath evening, instead of the prayer-meeting.
In the third year of our school our two older sons made a profession of
religion, with a number of other students, which was cause of great
rejoicing. Surely, we were blessed above measure. Within two years
after we were blessed with another shower of divine favor in the
conversion of our two older daughters. Not unfrequently were these four
children's voices uplifted in vocal supplication at the family altar.
We were surely repaid more than a hundred-fold for all our toiling, and
heavy burdens borne in founding Raisin Institute. As the fleeing
fugitive ever found a resting-place and cheer in our home, we richly
earned the cognomen of "nigger den;" yet Heaven smiled and blessed our
work. We had many sympathizing friends in the Society from which we
were disconnected as members, even with those who had deemed us too
radical. There was unity with us in our work that brought us together
in after years.