teachers to teach morality. Every example set before our people is one
that has been contaminated by slavery. If I see any one making for this
place I feel something will be done for him. Every Atlanta student I
see, I feel, ‘There goes one that will liberate our people from the
monster, Immorality.’ Asked the barkeeper if he sold much to ministers
and church members. He replied, ‘Most who buy are church members.’ Then
he said, ‘Do you see that man with a big locket on his watch chain?
He owes me six dollars for whiskey.’ He was the prominent minister
of the place. Still there is much progress in temperance. There is
an increasing kindly feeling between the rich and poor. I heard the
editor of the Macon _Telegraph_ talk to the colored people. He said the
Atlanta University was doing more for the State than the white State
University at Athens, and that the recitations were better.”
Another, whose health would not allow him to teach, and who stayed
here at the Home to work on the farm, said: “Above all, we want God
with us all the time, from this day on. Once, during the summer, I had
for a moment such a conception of God, that I felt if it continued
five minutes I could not live.” These words fell upon my ears like the
experiences of a Finney, because they were from one who has no patience
with “dream religion,” and whose godly life here for six years has been
a constant inspiration to us.
Another said: “People are roused to the subject of education. Children
complain if kept at home. The people can buy land easily. Treated well
by white men. Most of the whiskey drunk is by white people. Every man
in the county knows of Atlanta University. At the closing exercises,
a man begged all to save money enough to go up to the College
Commencement. He’d been once, and should go next year, if he had to
walk.”
All told of the Sunday-school work; some gave experiences in begging
money, hauling lumber, and putting up school and church buildings, and
most closed by saying, “I hope I did some good.” One sweet girl said it
in this way: “I left the results with the Great Reaper, hoping in due
time He will gather His sheaves.”
These reports help much in removing prejudices and narrow, one-sided
views of the South. While one sees the people retrograding and the
whites overbearing, another has a bright view on the other side.
This great number and variety of yearly reports impress us most,
however, with the magnitude of our work, and the great need we have
of your prayers, that this may be a pure fountain whom whence healing
streams only shall flow.
* * * * *
TENNESSEE.
Woman’s Work Among Women.
MISS HATTIE MILTON, MEMPHIS.
Out of a population of 40,000, one-third are colored. Many of the
children attend school a few months during the year; but the parents
think if their son John Quincy Adams Anderson attends school two weeks
out of four, he will “learn a heap,” and be ready to graduate in a year
or two. However, some of the children do make good progress at school;
but the home influence is so degrading that the necessity of missionary
work among the mothers is felt more and more, as we see more of their
homes. Many are too poor to send their children to school at all;
consequently they have no opportunity of becoming better.
In my daily visits from house to house I found them in a wretched
condition, filth and vermin reigning supreme. Often, on entering these
abodes, my sensibilities were so shocked that I could not speak at
first--dogs, cats, chickens and children clamoring for the hoe cake in
the ashes or the unleavened dough baking on the stove-cover, which,
when done, is broken and handed around to each, sometimes with the
addition of a dripping bit of bacon. In many of these homes the table
is never set, the entire furniture consisting of a bed, two chairs, a
trunk, box, cupboard, bundle of rags and a poor stove, if there is no
fireplace. They sometimes own the board shanties in which they live,
and rent the ground they stand on; and when they wish to move, they
pull down the shanty, move it to the new place, and put it up again.
I was usually received kindly; by some enthusiastically. One old
ex-slave, learning the nature of my errand at her house, said, raising
her hands above her turbaned head, “Oh, bless the Lord! Thank the
Lord! for He has heard the prayer of His downtrodden people, and put
it into the hearts of His dear children in the North to send some one
to instruct us. My blessed baby, come as often as you can, and read to
Aunt Hettie, for she is an ole Etheopum, and don’t know nothing.” After
I left, she rushed around to her neighbors, saying, “Bless the Lord!
for He has heard our prayer, and sent an angel right down from heaven
to instruct us, and she has been to my house this evenin’.” They were
usually glad--many were anxious--to hear the Bible read, some insisting
on paying me, saying, “Do take it. We wants you to come often, for we
don’t hear anything like it anywhere else.” One woman, wishing, as she
said, to do something for the Lord, and having no money, sent me a
nice warm dinner. They are very liberal, giving as long as they have a
nickel, whether they rightly own it or not.
Some who were suspicious said, “Never heerd tell of white lady going
to humble colo’d cabin to read the Bible. Look like it’s mighty
queer.” These suspicions had to be overcome in various ways. Often,
by attending the sick ones, the good will of the neighbors would be
secured. One poor creature, who had not been washed in six months,
and was almost dead, after I had bathed her and put on her clean
clothes--furnished by the good Northern friends--thanked me and said,
“Thank the Lord! when we get home to heaven, we will all have on clean
clothes.” Her last days of suffering were thus made more comfortable.
I went in often, as she loved to hear the Bible read, and singing. But
a few weeks later, I went in one morning, and found her poor remains
stretched out on a rough board, resting on two chairs. Thus she lay in
state, in her winding-sheet. A plate, placed on her crossed hands, with
its mute appeal for money to bury her, told how poor they were.
One day a very black woman met me on the street and said, “How d’y’,
Miss. You don’t know me; but I knows you, for you is the one what
visits the sick; and I heard you read the Bible, and I wants ye to read
it to me. We all loves ye, and we all says, ‘If any one is gwine right
up to heaven, it is you.’” I often found the best way to reach the
mother was through her children. By giving them little presents, they
would become fond of me. Then the mother, who was proud of them, would
say, “I wants my children to be better than me, but don’t know how to
make them so. I whips them a heap, but they is bad all the time.” After
convincing one mother that she was teaching her children to lie by her
daily example, she said, “Sure enough! Never thought of that afore. I
alus wondered why my children would lie so, ’cause I alus tells ’em not
to. Now, Miss, you come often, and teach me; I needs it much as any
one. How can we be expected to do better? No one we go with does any
better; and in ole slave times, if master saw us with a book, he would
‘slap our jaws;’ so we cannot read to find out better.” Another said,
“This is the first work I have seen that looked like really making our
homes better.”
Finding the mothers and daughters knew but little about sewing, an
industrial school was started, where they met once a week, and were
taught how to cut, fit and make garments. The material for this school
was furnished by the good people of Romeo. A small sum was charged for
each garment, when finished, and used to purchase more material. Also
a small price was charged for a few of the more valuable garments sent
in boxes, the persons gladly paying the small sum, which was used to
procure medicine and other comforts for the sick ones.
I also added something to this fund by giving lessons to some who were
able and willing to pay for the instruction.
Sunday was my most busy day; besides attending church and
Sabbath-school, I went out to read the Bible to those who were not at
home during the week. I seemed to find no rest days; indeed, there
was so much for one pair of hands to do, that many times I could not
sleep as much as needed. Another meeting was held weekly. I gave
Bible readings on those subjects which were of the most interest and
importance to mothers, after which we had a prayer-meeting, which was
often very interesting.
Near the end of the year, a temperance movement was started in our
church and Sabbath-school; many signed the pledge, among whom were
about thirty from my class. The colored people are very intemperate,
and nearly all the women use snuff and tobacco. One, who was
complaining of her poverty, upon being told she could ill afford to
use snuff and tobacco, said she only paid ten cents a box, and was
astonished to find that in a year it amounted to half as much as her
rent. She seemed to try to live an honest Christian life, and before I
left had given up all her bad habits, and was very proud and happy.
Although these people are naturally religious, still their religion
consists in going to meeting, where they sing, pray, and relate
imaginary experiences, and get wrought up to such a pitch that they
scream, roll on the floor, and often remain until the small hours of
the night. They go home, thinking they are very holy, but have no idea
of showing it by a well-ordered life; on the contrary, they continue to
live with unlawful companions, steal and lie with impunity; in fact, in
many respects, they will compare with their heathen forefathers, from
whom they have inherited their superstitions and forms of worship. The
bonds of slavery have prevented them from becoming enlightened.
However, I am glad to say there are some grand exceptions to this dark
picture; some noble Christians, a few who have good homes. Among
these, the good accomplished by the mission-school and the little
Congregational church, sustained by the A. M. A., can be seen. The
pastor, Mr. Mallory, allows no wife whipping in his church, and he has
caused the large number of those who were living together unlawfully
to be married. Indeed, his church will compare favorably with white
churches of the North. These things show the dawning of day to these
benighted people, and give us great encouragement to proceed with our
work. But the mass are worse than tongue can tell or pen portray. I
feel that in my description the half of woe and degradation has not
been told. The Lord was with me in this work, and was a present help in
every time of need. Many mornings I would start out with a heavy heart,
for it would seem that my efforts to do good were almost in vain;
but trusting alone in Jesus, I would go forward. Just then the Lord
would show me that some one was becoming better, and I would return
at evening upbraiding myself for my want of faith, and reminded of
that Scripture which says, “He that goeth forth, and weepeth, bearing
precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing
his sheaves with him.” It was a precious privilege to comfort these
broken-hearted ones with His words, of whom it was said: “Never man
spake like this Man.”
The Bible is the only book the colored people have any confidence in.
A sick man, whom I visited, said he would like to hear the Bible read
through; he was not a Christian. For some time he seemed but little
interested; but one day he greeted me with a smile, saying: “I can
trust the Lord now, and it is all that Bible-reading. Many have talked
to me before, but I never thought of what they said; but I could not
forget these words from the Bible, and I studied about it all the time,
and last week, after you left me, I just did as the Bible said: gave up
all, and trusted Jesus. I am ready to go now, and am not afraid.”
When the time drew near for me to return North, the women said:
“What will we do without you? Who will visit us when sick, and read
comforting words from the Bible? And who will teach us how to train
up our children? Now that we have had some one to do these things for
us, we feel as if we could not get along without you.” And many were
the expressions of gratitude towards those dear ladies in the North,
who had sent them a missionary, and many the prayers offered in their
behalf. There were many signs of encouragement, though, no doubt, much
seed that was sown will not spring up at once, but in the future will
bear precious fruit, for the Lord will not permit His word to return
unto Him void. This has been the happiest year of my life, for this
work has its own reward, both to the missionary and those who send
her, which is more valuable than silver or gold. I sometimes think the
angels might almost envy us in this work.
* * * * *
NORTH CAROLINA.
Students Want to “Batch”--Who Will Help?
REV. ALFRED CONNETT, McLEANSVILLE.
We hear almost daily of young men and young women who would come here
to school if they could only get a room where they could “batch.” I can
only hear of one vacant house within two miles of the school, and that
is engaged by two students who have not yet returned. Small buildings,
say 12×20, one story, two rooms, can be built for about $100 each, and
land bought at $6 to $10 per acre, possibly $20 for small tracts. By
making some provision of this kind to accommodate students, we should
at once draw in ten to twenty students, and these the very ones we
most need to reach: namely, those who are preparing to teach, and to
preach. Thus, the school would become more widely and more permanently
useful. These buildings are needed immediately, or part of them. It
is difficult, if not impossible, with their limited means, for the
students to obtain board, with suitable accommodations. The white
people do not wish to take in boarders, unless at high figures, and
the colored people have, usually, but one room in their log houses.
Cannot some church, individual, or individuals, do a work for Christ in
this way? If this, or something similar is not done, we shall let an
important and precious opportunity slip through our fingers.
* * * * *
TALLADEGA, ALABAMA.
The Story of Ambrose Headen,
AS TOLD BY HIMSELF.
I am fifty-six years old; was born in Chatham Co., N. C.; was a slave
forty-three years, sixteen years in North Carolina and twenty seven in
Alabama. I have lived in this county forty years. My young master in
North Carolina was four years older than myself; he had nine slaves,
and I was the only male. He died just before I was sixteen. When I was
thirteen I went to learn the carpenter’s trade. I was taken from my
mother and sent away to nurse children when I was six. I served three
years at the carpenter’s bench and at that time my master died, and I
had to be sold to pay his debts.
On the day appointed for the sale I went fourteen miles on foot, and
alone, to the place where I was to be sold. On my way I tried to lay
some plan to run away. A white woman said she would help me, and told
me to go into a certain swamp and she would feed me and help me away,
but I was afraid of the dogs and the men that would catch me. No one
can tell my feelings on my way to the sale, but I knew I had to go. At
the place of sale were 500 people come together to see me sold, and to
buy me. I was the only one to be sold. I was on the block three hours
while the men were bidding for me. Five of these men were speculators,
and the rest were mostly people that lived in that region. While they
were selling me there was a good deal of brandy drunk, and they offered
me some as I was very tired standing; and I said, “No, sir, I have
sorrow enough on me now without drinking that.” I was finally knocked
off to a very bad man for $1,780. This man lived about thirteen miles
from my old home, and when I knew that he was my master I burst into
tears, heart-broken. The overseer took me behind the store and tried to
stop me from crying, but I could not stop. At last, my new master said
if any one would give for me as much as he had, he might have me, and
a man from Alabama, who was out to North Carolina on a visit, said he
would, and so I sold again to this man from Alabama, and after three
months I was taken away from all my friends away down to Alabama. My
new master proved to be a good man, a member of the Baptist Church,
and I lived with him twenty-seven years until emancipation. One thing
I forgot to tell you, and it made a deep impression on my mind: at the
time I was being sold in North Carolina, a man in the crowd cried out
with a loud voice, “Hell will boil and overflow at such work as this.”
I never can forget that expression.
I was set free by two wills; the first one was burned, and so I was
kept in slavery. Once, after I had been absent from home some time, my
mistress, on my return, came rushing out to the gate and crying with a
loud voice, “Oh, Ambrose, Ambrose! I had rather live in the smokiest
cabin on the place, and had your master’s will done, than to be in the
king’s palace,” but the will was burned and so it could not be done.
The other will that set me free was made ten years before emancipation;
but emancipation came before my master died, and so his will did me no
good.
During all my slave life I never lost sight of freedom. It was
always on my heart; it came to me like a solemn thought, and often
circumstances much stimulated the desire to be free and raised great
expectation of it. We slaves all knew when an Abolitionist got into
Congress. We knew it when there was just one there, and we watched it
all the way until there was a majority there. I don’t know hardly how
we got the knowledge, but we always knew. We always called “freedom”
“possum,” so as to keep the white people from knowing what we were
talking about. We all understood it.
Some years before emancipation, my master signed $900 to be paid in
work towards building a Baptist College where we lived. He sent me to
work out his subscription. I had four children of my own, and I thought
that it was hard for me to work out this $900, when I could have no
privilege of educating my own children. I little thought then that my
children would ever graduate at this college, but God has turned things
about so that three of my children have graduated, and the fourth will
graduate next June; so that when I worked out this subscription of
my master, I was building a college for myself and my family. While
at work on this college, I fell into a conversation with the white
carpenters at work there, and they said “niggers” would do nothing “if
set free.” I told them if they would take me out into the woods and
strip every rag from me, and set me free, that in ten years I would
school my children.
Just after emancipation my master said: “Ambrose, I want you to let
Nannie stay with her mistress; she can’t do without her.” I said:
“Master, I always thought that if ever I was free I would educate
my children; if ’twas not for that, sir, I would accommodate you.”
“Ambrose,” said he, “I hardly thought you would deny me.” I said: “I
can’t do any better, sir.” With this we separated, and now all my
children are good scholars; one is a minister; one has charge of an
academy; I have a good house of seven rooms, and eleven acres of land
about it, besides a farm of 320 acres in the country.
Nothing can illustrate the great change that has come over us, unless
it is the change in passing from earth to heaven. You could see the
force of this illustration if you knew our history--if you only knew
the dark Egypt we have come through. I believe emancipation will work
out as great things for us as it did for Israel.
When the college and the Congregational Church were planted here
I joined the church, and have never been sorry for it. I love the
missionary cause, and would rather give all I have than to see it go
down.
I love to think of my son down in Selma preaching. There was quite a
scare there about the yellow fever, and my son wrote me to know what
he should do; I wrote him back, “to look to the Lord, and stand to his
post.”
* * * * *
A GRATEFUL WARD.
A Letter from an Indian.
I thank you, gentlemen, you kind and good. By and by I see you and tell
you. You give money to Mrs. Caruthers to help me learn. I try to learn
fast. Indian no talk much English. May be very soon I understand. Long
ago I an Indian, now I don’t think so. I think gust the same white man.
Now I want be same as good white man. Here this country good Tarrytown
I like. Your a
KIOWA FRENCH ZONE KE-UH.
* * * * *
AFRICA.
* * * * *
THE MENDI MISSION.
REV. A. F. JACKSON, AVERY.
When one enters upon this kind of work, he enters upon a tedious and
arduous one--a work accompanied with many dark and gloomy days, as well
as some bright ones. I suppose that you are aware that my work has been
assigned me at Avery, or Mannah Bargroo Station, on the Little Sherbro
river, about fifty-eight miles from Good Hope. At this station all of
the agricultural work is carried on. We have here a mill, coffee-farm
and ginger farm. I employ in the mill seven native men all the while;
and on the farm two native men; besides a crew of boatmen, that row
our boat from British Sherbro to the neighboring villages to sell the
lumber that is sawed at our mill. We are enabled to keep one boat
running all the while, and it is manned by natives entirely. They make
first-rate crewmen, and have a decided advantage over a similar act
of Englishmen or Americans, from the fact that they are always naked,
and there is no impediment in case of an accident. All of them can
swim in almost any kind of water. They do not stop to question whether
there be alligators in the water or not, but go at the command. I can
say that I have tried them sufficiently in all ways, and I have as
yet found them all to be quite honest, with the exception of one man,
who very politely went into my lot of goods on the way from Good Hope
to my station, and took therefrom five or six yards of baft to trade
for rice. This is the only dishonest act that I have known any one to
commit since my arrival on the coast of Africa.
I have said a good deal about my boatmen, and will now give you a brief
sketch of the habits and customs of this people. In the first place,
the men go entirely naked, with the exception of a cloth they wear,
something like that of an American baby’s diaper. The women wear about
four yards of cloth thrown carelessly around them, covering the lower
extremities, and tied by the ends about the waist.
When one dies, they have what they call “the cry,” in which all join.
They go for miles to attend “the cry.” The body of the deceased is
wrapped in matting, and conveyed to its long resting-place--a hole
which is dug for that purpose. This has always been their mode of
burying, and in many instances they prefer it to our way.
As to the general build of this people it is quite good. They possess
very good features, as a general thing, having smooth skins and round
faces. Their noses are not so flat as the American negro’s; neither are
their eyes so red and blood-shot. Their mouths are not so disfigured.
The most of them have quite a neat lip, not so thick as that of the
American negro. Their hands and feet are generally small. Their bodies
are very straight and well developed. It is astonishing to see how they
carry burdens, either upon the head or back, with a loop so that it can
be fastened around their foreheads.
A good stout man will carry as much on his head and back as you can
pack on a young ass three years old, and they never murmur. They live
in mud houses covered with thatch, but a thatch inferior to anything we
know of in America. It is made of bamboo, and only lasts from nine to
twelve months.
They subsist on rice, cassada, cocoa, fufu, crencray, palaver-sauce
and fish. Any one of these vegetables mentioned will grow without any
attention at all, except the cocoa, and that is a very tender plant,
indeed, and the consequence is, that they have less of it than anything
else. The cocoa and cassada are the only vegetables that I have learned
to eat. The cocoa, after it is cooked, is much like an Irish potato,
and makes a very palatable dish, indeed. The cassada, when cooked,
resembles an American squash, and is a very nice dish for dinner or
breakfast. Should a person presume to eat these vegetables mentioned,
without having been a good while in the country, he at once had better
have a mill-stone hanged about his neck, and his body committed to the
briny deep. He would fare about as well. No foreigner, of whatever
nationality he may be, can come into Africa and subsist at first upon
the native productions.