Robert W. Woodruff
Library
Gift of
Randall K. Burkett
EMORY UNIVERSITY
Special Collections & Archives
Eliza Suggs.
SHADOW AND
SUNSHINE
BY
ELIZA SUGGS
Thou art my hiding place; thou shalt preserve
me from trouble; thou shalt compass me about
with songs of deliverance.—Selah, Ps. 23:7.
OMAHA, NEB.
1906.
Copyright 1906,
by Eliza Suggs.
Hnt;rot>ucttorL
While attending a camp meeting near
Alma, Nebraska, during the summer of
1895, my attention was drawn to a little
colored girl sitting in a baby cab, who ap¬
peared to take a deep interest in the ser¬
vices. I was told that it was Sister Eliza
Suggs, who, amid deep affliction, was de¬
veloping into a strong Christian charac¬
ter.
While the reader will be touched by the
scenes of suffering related in this narra¬
tive, he will be impressed that Eliza does
not belong to the despondent class. She
is evidently of a cheerful temperament,
possessing an overcoming faith which
gives her the assurance that the God
whom she loves and serves, intends to
provide for and sustain her until life's
journey is ended. She saw light where
others would have seen only darkness;
she cherished hope where others would
have felt only despair; and fearing it
might displease her Master, she reject¬
ed offers of worldly gain which others
would have eagerly grasped. Of humble
parentage, limited advantages, physical
embarassments, she is shedding rays of
light along her pathway, and making im¬
pressions for good on the hearts and lives
of those with whom she associates. What
a marvel of grace!
It is not strange that one into whose
life a kind Providence has brought so
much of comfort, amid suffering; so much
the world her life story. I believe much
amid privation, should desire to give to
of joy, amid sorrow; so much of blessing
good will be accomplished by the circu¬
lation of this simple narrative, written,
as I believe it to have been, purely for the
glory of God. It will serve to forcibly
illustrate how one in siore affliction and
deep privation may possess the grace of
perfect resignation to the will of God,
and be ready for any service he may re¬
quire.
Burton R. Jones.
personal IRemintgcences
ant> {Testimony.
C. M. DAMON.
With much pleasure I learn that Sister
Eliza Suggs, colored, of Orleans, Neb.,
is to bring out a book or biography and
reminiscences of her parents. I know
nothing in detail of her plans, but I shall
be surprised if the book is not one of
thrilling interest. The author is a most
remarkable young woman. Born of such
heritage of physical infirmity as is sel¬
dom known, she has surmounted incred¬
ible difficulties and made progress in edu¬
cation, light labor, and the development
of Christian character, that is the as¬
tonishment and admiration of her multi¬
tude of friends. She is a mite of body—
apparently less than the upper third of
a normal growth.
8 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE
Carried in arms or wheeled about in a
carriage, her frail hands and well devel¬
oped head have accomplished wonders,
obtaining a fair education, which makes
her a valuable assistant, sometimes as
secretary of religious organizations and
work. In former years she assisted her
father, more or less, in evangelistic work,
and she has presided in public meetings
with marked dignity and ability. Carried
on the plaform and moved about as oc¬
casion required by kind and willing at¬
tendants!, I have perhaps never seen more
clock-like precision than the execution
of an interesting program, at which she
presided in a public temperance meeting
in the M. E. Church, during my last pas¬
torate in Orleans.
She is one of several sons and daugh¬
ters of most estimable Christian parents,
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 9
who were born in slavery, whose thrill¬
ing story will be told in the book of which
this may form a brief chapter. Her fa¬
ther was one of the ablest and comeliest
preachers of his race whom I have known.
He considered himself of unmixed blood.
His manly form, fine countenance, and
strong and melodious voice, made him at¬
tractive, both in speech and song.
When the author of this1 book was very
young, I was witness of a most exciting
episode in his remarkable history. We
were on a camp ground in western Kan¬
sas. On Sabbath morning the service had
closed and many had retired from the
Tabernacle. Bro. Suggs had not yet left
the platform where he had been speaking.
He was tappped on the shoulder and re¬
quested to step outsiide when three men
quickly handcuffed him and rushed him
from the grounds. I was instantly noti¬
fied that he had called for me and Rev.
E. E. Miller. I reached him about forty
10 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
rods away as they were ready to drive
off the ground. He held up his manac¬
led hands and with unaffected indig¬
nation, exclaimed: James Suggs, a mur¬
derer!" I inquired the meaning, and was
informed he was a suspect from Ohio for
whom a large reward was offered. The
fearful blunder of a bungling detective
and his assistants was apparent; but
that did not help in the excitement of the
moment. I assured them of the error,
asked what word I should send his wife;
was requested to look after his horse tied
on the ground, and they were gone. While
others sought his release by legal means,
unavailing, as he was so swiftly driven
from one county to another, I telegraphed
a friend in Topeka to see the Governor,
and have the Ohio requisition refused, if
it should be presented,, as seemed prob¬
able. I then wrote Ex-governor St. John,
who had employed him and the refugees
which had poured into Kansas during the
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 11
noted exodus from the South, and inform¬
ed his old neighbors of Princeton, 111. All
thisi proved unnecessary, for in a day or
two he was taken before a Justice in Os¬
borne county, and speedily demonstrated
their mistake. The false arrest cost the
detective severely, and it would have gone
harder with him but for an error in the
accusation under which he was confined
for some time and brought to trial. An
account of this singular affair may be
detailed elsewhere. My efforts, occasion¬
ed by the excitement of the hour, served
to bring out varied testimonials to his
worth and high esteem in which he was
held.
Bro. Suggs has long since joined the
throng of the ransomed ones, while his
companion remains an honored and be¬
loved pilgrim among the saints of Or¬
leans.
One other thought comes to mind in
this connection—his realization and en-
12 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
joyment of what he sang so beautifully,
the first time I ever heard it, "The Toils
of the Road will seem Nothing when I
get to the End of the Way."
The devotion to the author of her sis¬
ter, Katie, for years a member of the
Official Board at Orleans, is something
interesting and touching. Hard working
as she is at home and away, she seems
never to tire of the care of her afflicted
but honored charge. When Eliza, hidden
in church behind the seats in front, would
testify, Kate rises with her in arms, and
she speaks clearly and forcibly. There
is not a family among our people in the
place more respected or more deservedly
so. Boarding with them for eight months,
with every care and kindness shown, the
writer witnesses that he never saw an
improper act or heard an improper word.
Having heard from the lips of Sister
Suggs many an incident of slave days
and war times, I shall await with inter¬
est the appearance of the forthcoming
book.
Sketch of father.
"Some suck up poison from a sorrow's core,
As naught but nightshade grew upon earth's
ground;
Love turned all his to heart'sease, and the more
Fate tried his bastions, she but forced a door,
Leading to sweeter manhood and more sound."
—James Russell Lowell.
My father and mother were slaves.
Father was born in North Carolina, Aug¬
ust 15th, 1831. He was a twin, and was
sold away from his parents and twin
brother, Harry, at the age of three years.
This separation, at so tender an age, was
for all time, as never again did he see
his loved ones. In after years he had a
faint recollection of his mother, and
could remember distinctly the words of
introduction with which he was handed
over from his old master to his new:
"Whip that boy and make him mind."
14 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
A slave had no real name of his own,
but was called by the name of his master ;
and whenever he was sold and changed
masters, his name was changed to that
of the new master. The parents gave his
first, or Christian name, however, which
was usually retained amid all his chang¬
ing of masters. Father's parents named
him James. So at this time his name was
James Martin. He was sold by Mr. Mar¬
tin for a hundred dollars, and taken to
Mississippi. Afterward he was sold to
Jack Kindrick, and again to Mr. Suggs,
with whom he remained until the war
broke out.
Father was a blacksmith by trade, and
was considered a valuable slave. Mr
Suggs was a kind master, and as James
was an industrious and obedient servant,
he was allowed the privilege, after his
day's work was done, of working after
night for himself. He made pancake
griddles, shovels, tongs, and other small
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 15
articles, the proceeds from the sale of
which brought in many a small coin. He
was also allowed, in odd moments, to cul¬
tivate a small garden patch, on his own
responsibility, and it was surprising
what that little patch was made to yield.
Naturally proud and ambitious, the
money thus obtained was usually spent
upon his person, enabling him to dress
better and appear to much better advan¬
tage than his less enterprising compeers.
Slaves were not allowed to have an ed¬
ucation. Father said he had to "pick
up" what education he got, much as a
rabbit might be supposed to pick up some
tender morsel with the greyhounds hot in
pursuit. When the master's children came
from school, they would make letters and
say, "Jim, you can't make that." But
he would make it and find out what it
was. Again he would say to them, "You
can't spell "horse, "or "dog," or some
other word he wanted to know. And they
16 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
would reply, "Yes, I can," and would
spell it. All this time he was learning,
while they had no idea that he was storing
these things up in his mind. Yes, he had
to steal what learning he got.
While James was still quite young,
Mr. Suggs bought a little slave girl, nam¬
ed Malinda Filbrick. In time, Jame and
Malinda came to love each other, and
were married while yet in their teens.
The same pride of heart which had mani¬
fested itself in his own stylish appear¬
ance, now prompted him to lavish his ex¬
tra earnings on his young bride. One in¬
stance of his extravagant indulgence was
the purchase of a $7.00 pair of ear-drops,
which doubtless afforded him much grati¬
fication until the ill-fated day when they
proved too strong a temptation to a party
of Union soldiers, who carried them off
as spoils. Another outlay of his surplus
earnings was in the purchase, for his
wife, of a remarkable quilt, made after
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 17
the pattern known as "the chariot-wheel."
This was truly a masterpiece of skill, and
was highly prized by my mother. It
seemed about to share the same fate as
the ear-drops and was in the hands of a
Union soldier, when the earnest plead¬
ings of my mother prevailed upon the
kind-hearted officer in charge to give or¬
ders for its restoration.
While still in slavery, father was won¬
derfully converted. . Before his conversion
he was a wicked young man. Pride in
dress was not his only besetment. He
loved to danc and drink, and have as
good a time, from a worldly standpoint,
as any human being could who was held
in bondage. Whenever a slave wanted
to go out to spend the evening he had to
get a pass from his master; for there
were more men called patrolment, elected
according to law, whose duty it was to
seize and thoroughly chastise any slave
who was so presumptious as to venture
18 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
out without a pass. If a slave was caught
out after nine o'clock at night, without a
pass, he was stripped to the waist and
beaten thirty lashes on his naked back.
It was against the law to whip a slave
over his clothing. One night these pa-
trolment caught father out without a
pass. He well knew what was to follow,
and as they held him by the coat collar,
he straightened back his arms and ran
out of the coat leaving it in their hands.
They got the coat, but James never got
the whipping. "
After he was converted, he would go
to his master and ask to be allowed to go
to meeting, and permission having been
given, he would say, "And please, sir,
may I have a pass?" At these meetings
he would talk and exhort his fellow-
slaves, until Mr. Suggs would say, "If
James keeps on like this, he will surely
make a preacher."
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 19
Father loved freedom; or at least he
thought he should enjoy it. He never had
been a free man, and hardlv knew how
it would seem to be free. But it is natur¬
al to every man, of whatever race or col¬
or, to want to be free. He used often to
say to his young wife, "When the car of
freedom comes along, I am going to get
on board;" meaning that if he got a
chance he was going to the war.
One day the news came that the "Yan¬
kees" were within four miles of Ripley,
the village near which Mr. Suggs lived.
They were reported as havingaheavyforce
of both calvary and infantry. Mr. Suggs
was a very wealthy man and had a large
number of fine horses and carriages, as
well as great herds of cattle and sheep.
All these he must hide, as best he could,
from the "Yankees," for they were very
destructive to the property of the south¬
erners. So he called his men to gather
up his belongings, as far as possible, and
20 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
take them to the cane-brake to hide them.
The canes grow so thickly together, and
the leaves so interwoven, as to make it
impossible to see any object at a distance
of even a few feet. So a cane-brake was
a fine place for hiding.
Mr. Suggs called James and told him
to take his sheep and go at once to the
cane-brake, which he did. Little did my
mother think, as she saw him go, that this
would be the last she would see of James
for three years and nine months. But
so it was to be. When the "Yankees"
came, a colored man took them and show¬
ed them where these treasures were hid¬
den, together with the belongings of sev¬
eral neighbors. The soldiers helped them¬
selves to whatever they wanted; and told
the slaves that any who wanted to do so
might go with them. Father thought his
time had come to strike for liberty. He
went into the war and fought for his
freedom and that of his family, and ob-
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 21
tained it as a well-earned victory.
Many of the slaves, in making their
escape north with the Union army, took
with them their wives and children. So
father fondly hoped he could get some
soldiers to come back with him to get
mother and the four children. He knew
but little of army life and discipline, and
so was bitterly disappointed in never get¬
ting back.
When the excitement was over and the
soldiers gone, and some of the slaves came
back to the plantation, father did not ap¬
pear. Mr. Suggs came to mother and
said," Malinda, where is James?" "I don't
know," said mother. "Didn't you send
him off with the sheep?" But he would
not believe her when she said she didn't
know. He blamed her for father's going
away, and thought she had put him up
to go.
Father enlisted in 1864, but was wound¬
ed shortly after and discharged from ac-
22 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
tiye service and sent to the hospital. Af¬
ter recovering from his wound, he joined
the regular service and continued until
the close of the war, part of the frme
acting as corporal of his company. When
the war was over, he came north with his
captain, Mr. Newton. The thought up¬
permost in his mind, was how to get his
family from the south. For him to have
gone after them, in person, at that time,
would have been at the risk of his life.
Mr. Newton, having business in the
south, and being a kind-hearted man, fa¬
ther begged of him to go and find his fam¬
ily and bring them to him. This Captain
Newton did, finding them not far from
where father had left them.
Father now went to work with great
zeal at his trade to earn money for the
purpose of getting a home for his family.
He was at last a free man, with his dear
family —a free family, and living in his
own free country. The slaves could not
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 23
be married as white people were; for there
was a clause in the marriage ceremony
which gave the slave-holder the right to
separate husband and wife whenever he
chose to do so. I have heard my mother
say that she has known instances where
husband and wife have been separated
after having been married only a few
weeks, or even only a few days. My fa¬
ther said that seeing he was now a free
man, he wanted to be married like other
free people. So on the fifth day of June,
in 1866, father and mother were married
again according to the Christian rites, or
according to the white man's law.
Father continued to work at his trade
until God called him to preach the Gospel.
He had a great struggle over his call to
preach. He had worldly ambitions and
was making money, and it was hard for
him to give up all and follow Christ. Fin¬
ally he consented to preach, but did not
go at it with his whole heart. He would
24 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
preach occasionally, but still worked at
his blacksmithing, until one night the
Lord spoke to him plainly. He said it was
like an audible voice saying, "Either
preach the Gospel or work at your trade."
He was to make his choice, but it meant
to him heaven or hell. Which would he
take? He trembled as he felt the respon¬
sibility of leading lost souls to Christ. But
he made his choice and said, "Yes," to
God. He began preaching around in
school houses. Large crowds gathered to
hear him, and from that time on, it was
the business of his life to minister Divine
truth to dying men and women.
In 1874 he was given exhorter's license,
by Rev. C. E. Harroun, Jr., in the Illi¬
nois Conference of the Free Methodist
church. In 1878 he was given a local
preacher's license by Rev. Edwin C. Best,
pastor of the Sheffield circuit, Galva dis¬
trict, of the Illinois Conference. In 1879
he was ordained deacon in the Illinois
SHADOW A2TD SUNSHINE. 25
Conference, by General Superintendent
B. T. Roberts, and in 1884, in the West
Kansas Conference, he was ordained el¬
der by General Superintendent E. P.
Hart.
. His labors during the early years of his
ministry were in the Illinois Conference.
Rev. C. W. Sherman came to Princeton,
where we lived, with a band of workers
and held a tent meeting. This band con¬
sisted of C. L. Lamberts and wife, F. D.
Brooke, and Lizzie Bardell, now his wife;
D. M. Smashey, and Belle Christie, now
his wife. These band workers have since
developed into prominent preachers and
evangelists in the Free Methodist church,
some of them having filled the office of dis¬
trict elder for several years. They were
at this time entertained in our home.
While the meeting was in progress one
night the rowdies gathered, cut down the
large tabernacle and threw stones into
the small tents. Brother Sherman tried
26 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
to persuade them to desist when one
struck him in the eye, nearly putting out
his eye. Brother Smashey received a cut
in his head, from which pools of blood
stood around the tent.
Next morning my father looked down
toward the camp ground and saw that the
tent was down, and he and mother went
down with sorrowful hearts to comfort
the workers. Brother Sherman met them
with a joyful, "Praise the Lord, Sister
Suggs, I shall preach tonight if I haven't
either eye." And he did, with a bandage
around his eye. And with another band¬
age around Brother Smashey's head, they
looked like soldiers after a battle. The
Lord gave a grand victory, for the hearts
of the people were turned toward them in
sympathy. A good collection was taken
to defray the expenses of the meeting, the
tent was raised, and the meeting went on
with power. Souls were saved and added
to the small society already organized in
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 27
that place. The city authorities promised
protection from future disturbance, and
kept their promise.
In the year 1879 father went to Kansas
as an evangelist. This was the year of
the great drouth and grasshopper scourge.
There was a colony of colored people, who
had come from the south and settled in
Graham county, Kansas, naming their lit¬
tle settlement Nicodemus. Father went
to preach to these people. He found them
in a suffering condition, nearly starving,
and with scarcely enough clothing to cov¬
er their nakednessi Father visited Hon.
John P. St. John, at that time Governor
of Kansas, to see what could be done for
these people. The governor sent him back
to Illinois to solicit aid for them; for,
said he, "After you have provided for
their temporal needs, then they can hear
your Gospel." He solicited accordingly
in Illinois, and sent back barrel after bar¬
rel of clothing to the people.
28 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
He afterward took up a homestead in
Phillips county, Kansas, and in the year
1885 brought his family to Kansas. He
was now almost constantly in the work of
the Lord. He often said, "I would sooner
wear out than rust out," and surely God
granted him the desire of his heart.
But while he was thus working earnest¬
ly to build up God's kingdom, Satan was
just as busily at work to hinder and de¬
stroy his labors. Jesus said to Simon
Peter, "Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath
desired to have you, that he may sift you
as wheat; but I have prayed for thee."
Ah! here was Peter's only strength, "I
have prayed for thee." In the power of
those prayers, and in that alone, could he
overcome. The same old enemy is in the
world today and his hatred and spite to¬
ward God's children is just as strong as
it was in Peter's day. He still desires to
have God's little ones that he may sift
them as wheat.
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 29
The powers of darkness were now turn¬
ed loose upon father. Wicked men laid
hands upon him and took him to prison.
This occurred on the camp ground at Mar¬
vin, Kansas. One afternoon, after he was
through preaching, some one came up to
him and said, "Brother Suggs, some one
wants to see you." He was led out sup¬
posing he was going to have a talk with
some old friend or with some one who was
inquiring the way to God, as many such
came to him for counsel. He found him¬
self being handcuffed and being hurried
away between two disguised detectives,
who accused him of being one Hafrison
Page, an escaped murderer. In vain he
pleaded innocence. "You are Harrison
Page," said his accusers. "Your name is
not James Suggs. You are a murderer."
Imagine his surprise! But the Lord bless¬
ed him right there, and as he was led
away, he was heard praising the Lord.
The last word he said to the brethren was,
30 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE
"Take good care of old Dollie, and see
that she has plenty of water, take her
home, and tell wife I will come out all
right." One looking on observed, "Any
man in such a condition as that, arrested
and accused of murder, takinar thought of
an old horse like Dolly, surely can't be
a very bad man, Suggs is innocent." Key.
C. M. Damon was tireless in his efforts
for father's release, and with character¬
istic foresight, telegraphed a friend in
Topeka to see the Governor, and wrote to
ex-Governor John P. St. John and to fath¬
er's old neighbors in Princeton, Illinois.
Bev. E. E. Miller, now in heaven, pursued
after the captors, the brethren made up
money to pay his expenses and kept him
right after them, until father was proven
:r.isucent and set free.
Doubtless it was the intention and ex¬
pectation of the enemy, in making this
bold accusation, to silence father forever
from preaching. But in this he overshot
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 31
the mark. Father never ceased preaching
on this account; but on the other hand, it
gave him new opportunities for preaching
the Gospel. Even in jail he held meetings
and one man who heard him was con¬
verted and called to preach. Father lived
convictions on his accusers. He talked
to them about their souls and their hard
hearts melted. They knew he was inno¬
cent, and really wanted to get rid of him
before they could do so. His accusers
were afterward arrested and brought to
trial. After father was cleared and re¬
leased, and while waiting for his accusers'
trial, he started a meeting in Osborne,
Kansas. Thus God caused the wrath of
man to praise him, and opened new and
unexpected doors for the spread of the
Gospel.
This arrest and seizure of father, and
the suspense which followed, were a
strange and hard ordeal for the family at
home. My mother has been through the
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE
fire, but the same God who was with her
in slavery days was with her at this time.
Father was mercifully restored to his fam¬
ily, all safe and sound, and went on his
way rejoicing. Doors of usefulness were
opened to him on every side. He was
quite widely known within the bounds of
several different conferences, the Illinois,
Iowa, West Iowa, Kansas, West Kansas,
and Nebraska conferences, each having
claimed some share of his time and labor.
Attracted by the Free Methodist Sem¬
inary at Orleans, Nebraska, and desiring
for his daughters the advantages it afford¬
ed, he moved his family thither in 1886.
But he did not settle down or superan¬
nuate because he had moved to a commun¬
ity that was well supplied with preachers
and Christian workers. It was only for
convenience and the welfare of his family
that he was led to take this step, and not
with any intention of dropping out of the
Lord's work. From this as a center, he
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 33
went out to different places for evangel¬
istic labors, and kept the revival fire burn¬
ing brightly in his own heart through the
heat of summer as well as through the
cold of winter.
The last winter he was on earth, being
the winter of 1888-89, he was engaged in
a protracted campaign against sin, on the
Sappa Creek, in Norton County, Kansas.
He pitched his tabernacle on the farm of
"Father Neimyer," and here once more set
the battle in array. He banked up the
tabernacle on the outside, and put in it
two stoves, which made it very comfort¬
able. The attendance and interest were
good, and souls were born into the king¬
dom of God. After closing this series of
meetings in the tabernacle, he held others
in the neighboring schoolhouses, and thus
put in the winter solidly for God. It was
the privilege of my mother and myself to
be with him in all these meetings. How
34 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
little we realized that these were his last
on earth!
He returned home from his winter's
campaign, weary and exhausted. He de¬
cided to rest a little and be ready to go
again. After resting a few weeks he went
/>n an evangelistic tour east, but soon re¬
turned home again sick, and took his bed.
His disease baffled all the skill of the
physicians, and after an illness of
about five weeks during which he mani¬
fested great patience and resignation, on
the 22nd of May, 1889, he passed peace¬
fully home to God. His funeral at Orleans
was largely attended, not only by his
brethren and sisters in the church, but
by the citizens of Orleans who thus show¬
ed their appreciation and respect
But none knew his worth so well as
his own family. He was the strong staff
upon which mother and all of us had
leaned. How should we ever learn to walk
alone? "Leaning on the Everlasting
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 35
Arms," we have since learned to mount
up on wings as eagles oyer all our diffi¬
culties, to run the Christian race and not
grow weary, and to walk with the Lord
and not faint. Father, we miss thee—as
much now as ever we did—yet would not
recall thee. Rest, weary soldier, rest
from thy labors! Thy works shall follow
thee. Thy reward shall be sure. A part,
at least of your family is travelling the
road our father trod. We have caught
the spirit of your loved battle song, and
sing with you,
"We'll end this warfare,
Down by the river;
We'll end this warfare
Down by the riverside."
By and by God shall say to each one
of usi, as he said to you, "It is enough;
come up higher."
"And when the battle's over
We shall wear a crown
In the New Jerusalem."
36 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
And then, when the last battle has been
fought, and the last victory has been won,
and the last enemy has been destroyed,
then and not till then, shall we lay our
armor down, and through all eternity,
"We will walk through the streets of the
city
With our loved ones gone before;
We will stand on the banks of the river,
We will meet them there to part no
more."
Sketch of flDotber.
"When we are sick, where can we turn for succor?
When we are wretched, where can we complain?
And when the world looks cold and surly on us,
Where can we go to meet a warmer eye
With such sure confidence as to a mother?"
—Selected.
My mother was born in Alabama, April
5th, 1834, and when quite young went
with her parents to Mississippi. Her mo¬
ther was a slave belonging to a Mr McAr-
thur. He had several sons and when he
died his slaves were divided among his
sons. In the division, parents and chil¬
dren were separated from each other, and
thus mother was separated from her mo¬
ther and eight brothers, but not far. She
could go and see them occasionally. My
mother was never ill-treated like some of
the slaves were, but my poor grandmother
was.
38 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE
One night while the old man, McAr-
thur, was still living, he and one of his
sons went to town. They were both in
the habit of drinking. So on this particu¬
lar night they got drunk and gambled
away their money and came home in a
rage. Grandmother had to sit up late to
keep their supper warm]. She was afraid
to go to bed, but finally dropped to sleep
and the fire died down. Sometime in the
small hours of the night, they came home.
With a start she awoke, and tried to fix
the fire. But as she stooped to stir the
fire in the fire-place, the old man kicked
her in the eye and put it out. But this
was not punishment enough. Early the
next morning he called her out to be
whipped. What was all this for? What
was all this for? What had she done?
He accused her of stealing his money! So
she was stripped to the waist and beaten
on her naked back until it was raw like
beef, and as he threw the whips with
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 39
which he had beaten her on the ground,
the dogs licked the blood from them. But
grandmother must continue to go to the
field and work, notwithstanding her raw
back and consequent high fever.
My mother was a little girl then, and
while grandmother was being beaten and
was crying so, the little girl would scream
and pretend to be sick, thinking the mas¬
ter would surely let her mother go to
come to her sick child. But no! He paid
no attention to her screams. After the
old man McArthur died, my mother was
taken by one of the sons. But he being a
hard drinker, got into debt and my mo¬
ther had to be sold.
A Mr. Fillbrick now bought her. Mrs.
Fillbrick was a good Christian woman,
and took a great deal of interest in her
little slave girl. She taught her to read
and was always kind to her. She would
sometimes talk out her heart to mother,
young as she was, perhaps for want of
40 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
any one else to talk to. At such times
she would tell her that it was very wrong
to keep slaves; but as she was not strong
enough to do her own work, and had to
have help, of course it was necessary for
her to buy one. Mother was the only ser¬
in her house and necessarily had much
work to do.
Mrs. Fillbrick, although so kind and
gentle in disposition, was not very well
liked among her neighbors and mother
often wondered why. But after she was
older she knew the reason. It was be¬
cause Mrs. Fillbrick opposed slavery.
Speaking almost prophetically, she would
sometimes tell mother that some day the
slaves would all be free. Soon this woman
left the south, and of course, had to sell
her slave.
Mr. Suggs, my father's master, now
bought her, and thus my father and mo¬
ther were brought together for the first
time. After they were married they were
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 41
never torn from each other and sold to
different masters; for Mr. Suggs said he
did not believe in separating husband and
wife. Thusi God dealt very tenderly with
my parents and spared them the horrors
and heartaches which were the common
lot of most slaves.
Under this comparatively kind and in¬
dulgent master, my mother knew little
of real trouble. Her first experiences
that might be called real troubles came
after my father had gone to the war. Mr.
Suggs, fearing that my father would come
back and get mother and her four chil¬
dren, took the two older children, Ellen
and Franklin, to Georgia. I will say
here, that when the Union soldiers were
around the slaves could just walk off be¬
fore their master's eyes, and he dare not
say a word. So by separating the fam¬
ily, Mr. Suggs seemed more likely to pre¬
vent their escape with the Union soldiers.
When Ellen and Frank were sent away,
42 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
Lucinda, the next little girl, would have
been taken too, but she was sick at the
time. So she and baby Calvin were left
with their mother. And now followed
dark days for mother. Husband gone,
she knew not where, and herself blamed
for his escape; and now her two children
in strange hands and carried away to a
strange land! She had also a sister be¬
longing to the same master. To add to
her troubles, her sister died at this time.
It seemed her cup of bitterness was more
than full.
Baby Calvin was very cross. Mother
had no time to care for him properly, as
she was the only woman servant on the
place and had ten cows to milk and all
the cooking to do. So her little children
were neglected, for this work must be
done. One day Calvin was sitting on the
kitchen floor crying loudly, and mother
had no time to take him. The mistress
came in, and hearing the baby crying, she
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 43
chugged his head up against the brick
wall. How he did scream! Mother said,
"You had better kill him and be done with
it." The mistress angrily replied, "Let
the nasty stinking little rascal behave
himself, then; he is a chip off from the old
block," meaning he was too much like his
father.
Mother was professing religion before
father went away, but was ignorant of
the way of real salvation; and instead of
her troubles driving her nearer the Lord,
she wandered further and further away,
and at last ceased praying altogether. Her
troubles preyed upon her mind so that she
lost her appetite and could not sleep. She
grew weaker and weaker until she could
no longer get through with her work.
Finally she came to herself. She thought,
"I miust not die, but must live for the
sake of my two little ones. She began
calling on the Lord for help, wept her way
back to the cross, and was restored to the
44 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
Divine favor. There came to her new
strength and courage to meet life's bat¬
tles. She inquired of the Lord as to
whether she should ever again see her hus¬
band and children. Clearly and definite¬
ly came the answer, "You shall see them
again." She began trusting in the Lord,
and was touched and helped in her body.
As to any direct word from her hus¬
band, she had none. He wrote her letters
but they were destroyed. Many a false
report concerning him was conjured up
and poured into her ears by her unfeeling
mistress, who would come into the kitch¬
en, light her pipe and sit leisurely down
to rehearse to my mother what she had
heard about "James," every word of it
the product of her own fertile imagina¬
tion, and told purely for the purpose of
making mother miserable. So when the
mistress appeared at the door of the hut,
and lighting her pipe, sat down for one
of her cheerful (?) interviews, mother
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 45
usually knew that some big story was to
follow. She would preface her remarks
by saying, "Well, I heard from James to¬
day. The Yankees' have got him." And
then would follow some horrible recital
of how the "Yankees" had him chained to
an anvil block and were starving him to
death, or something else equally consol¬
ing. At such times mother would calmly
answer, "Oh, well, he is as well off there
as he would be here."
The slave-holders who had sent their
slaves to Georgia to prevent the "Yan¬
kees" getting them now began to think
that the war was about over, as every¬
thing seemed to calm down; and Mr.
Suggs said with the others, "Well, we can
bring our niggers back now, the d—d
Yankees have left Corinth." The general
feeling was that of safety, and there was1
little fear that the Union army would
again bother them. So the exiled slaves
were sent for, and with them came moth-
45 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE
er's children, Ellen and Frank. They had
been abused and sadly neglected, but in
answer to prayer, they were restored to
their mother.
But the calm in which they had trusted
was the calm of death. It was the lull
before the bursting of the thunderbolt.
The "Yankees" returned in greater num¬
bers than ever, and in less than two
months! peace was proclaimed. Mother
could see so clearly the hand of God in
the restoration of her children in His
own appointed time and manner; as had
they been left in Georgia until the close
of the war, it is very doubtful, humanly
speaking, as to whether she would ever
have seen them again. And for this rea¬
son : So long as the slaves were consid¬
ered property, each owner naturally look¬
ed after his own belongings and kept
them together. After the slaves were
freed, however, no one cared what became
of them. And so it was at the close of the
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 47
war, that many families were separated
and were never reunited. My mother had
eight brothers and sisters, and cannot tell
where one of them is today. That she
ever got back her children was due to
God's own arrangement and overruling.
But this curse of African slavery is
done away. Thank God! Parents and
children, husbands and wives, are no
longer torn from each other and sold as
cattle to enrich their master. We have one
Master, even God. We have lived to see
the day When "all men are born free and
equal," and this despite of race or color.
The blot of African slavery has been wip¬
ed out from our fair land with the life-
blood of her brave sons. But there still
exists in our very midst, another, and
even more cruel slavery, which is holding
men soul and body in the most abject
bondage. It is the slavery of Intemper¬
ance. The white man's slave could love
and serve the Lord and in the end get to
48 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
heaven. The Drink Demon's slave is held
with an ever tightening grip in life, and
is ruined, body and soul, in death. Shall
we see the curse of strong drink wiped out
even as we have seen the curse of slav¬
ery? Shall we have an Emancipation
Proclamation for the defenceless millions
over whom drink is now tyranizing? I
appeal to you who are voters. Shall we?
After mother was set free, she left her
old master and went to work out. Ellen
and Frank were old enough to do a little;
so they were put out to service too. One
day there came a letter to mother. In it
was a lock of father's; hair. She knew the
hair and the handwriting, and knew it
was no fraud. This letter told her to pre¬
pare to come north with Captain Newton.
Could it be possible that so much of good
was in store for her? Yes, it was really
true. Mr. Newton had gone to Georgia
and would be back again in a month after
her and the children. But he being a
Four Generations.
Mrs. Siifcp, ^auerhter. Grandson and Great-Granddaughter.
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 49
Union man, it was dangerous for him to
stay long in the south. So he had to hur¬
ry back and come for mother sooner than
he expected. But she left all and went
with him, and the long-divided family
were now at last happily reunited.
Of these four children born in slavery,
Ellen is the only one now surviving, Lu-
cinda died with typhoid fever at the age
of eight. Calvin took quick consumption
from exposure in Michigan, and died at
the age of nineteen. Franklin grew to
manhood and was married. Three months
after his marriage, he was drowned in a
lake near Elgin, Illinois. Ellen, the eld¬
est child, now Mrs. Ellen Thompson, liv¬
ed in Elgin until two years ago, since
vhich time she has lived near Omaha, Ne¬
braska.
After the days of slavery, while my par¬
ents were living in Bureau county, Illi¬
nois, there were born to them four daugh¬
ters, Sarah Matilda, Katharine Isabel,
50 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE
Lenora Ethridge, and the writer, Eliza
Gertrude, all of whom are still living.
During my father's last illness he often
spoke to mother about temporal needs,
and would always end by saying, "The
Lord will provide." And truly He has.
Mother in her declining years has a com¬
fortable home, free from debt, near the
church, where she delights to attend. She
is always found in her place in the house
of God unless prevented by illness. And
although getting along in years, she is sel¬
dom ill. She gets a pension and with
this gets along nicely. Verily, the will¬
ing and obedient shall eat the good of the
land.
father £afce fiD\> ibanfc.
The way is dark, my Father, cloud on cloud
Is gathering thickly o'er my head, and loud
The thunders roar above me. See, I stand
Like one bewildered: Father, take my hand,
And through the gloom
Lead safely home
Thy child!
The day goes fast, my Father, and the night
Is dawning darkly down. My faithless sight
Sees ghostly. visions. Fears, a spectral band,
Encompass me, O, Father, take my hand,
And from the night,
Lead up to light
Thy child!
The way is long, my Father! and my soul
Longs for the rest and quiet of the goal;
While yet I journey through this weary land,
Keep me from wandering. Father, take my hand;
Quickly and straight,
Lead to heaven's gate
Thy child!
52
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
The path is rough, my Father! Many a thorn
Has pierced me; and my weary feet, all torn
And bleeding, mark the way. Yet thy command
Bids me press forward. Father, take my hand;
Then safe and blest,
Lead up to rest
Thy child!
The throng is great, my Father! Many a doubt
And fear and danger compass me about;
And foes oppress me sore. I cannot stand
Or go alone. O, Father! take my hand,
And through the throng
Lead safe along
Thy child!
The cross is heavy, Father! I have borne
It long, and still do bear it. Let my worn
And fainting spirit rise to that blest land
Where crowns are given. Father, take my hand;
And reaching down,
Lead to the crown
Thy child!
—Henry N. Cobb.
ICbc Gracious answer.
The way is dark, my child! hut leads to light.
I would not always have thee walk by sight.
My dealings now thou canst not understand.
I meant it so; but I will take thy hand,
And through the gloom,
Lead safely home
My child!
The day goes fast, my child! But is the night
Darker to me than day? In me is light!
Keep close to me and every spectral band
Of fears shall vanish. I will take thy hand,
And through the night
Lead up to light
My child!
The way is long, my child! But it shall be
Not one step longer than is best for thee;
And thou shalt know, at last, when thou shalt
stand
Safe at the goal, how I did take thy hand.
And quick and straight,
Lead to heaven's gate
My child!
64 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
The path, is rough, my child! But oh! how sweet
Will be the rest, for weary pilgrims meet,
When thou shalt reach the borders of that land
To which I lead thee, as I take thy hand;
And safe and blest
With me shall rest,
My child!
The throng is great, my child! But at thy side
Thy Father walks; then be not terrified,
For I am with thee; will thy foes command
To let thee freely pass; will take thy hand,
And, through the throng
Lead safe along,
My child!
—Henry N. Cobb.
Sketch of i£lt3a.
"My cage confines me round;
Abroad I cannot fly;
But though my wing is closely bound,
My heart's at liberty.
My prison walls cannot control
The flight, the freedom, of the soul."
—Madame Guyon.
On the 11th day of December, 1876,
near Providence, Bureau county, Illinois,
the subject of this sketch was born. I
seemed to be a healthy baby, and for a
short time grew as other children. But
at four weeks old, my bones began to
snap and break. One day I cried all day,
and my mother wondered what could be
the matter. She found out that one of
my limbs was broken. In timie it healed,
and lo an arm broke. This had no more
than recovered when the other arm broke.
And thus my bones would break, one af¬
ter another, for six long years. Whenever
56 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
I was moved, it caused me differing.
My bones being very soft and tender, just
the least thing would cause them to break.
One day my little sister Lenora, two years
older, was showing me how some people
shook hands at meeting. As she shook
my hand to show me, my arm broke.
I knew nothing of the pleasures of
childhood. I could not play as other chil¬
dren, but had to sit still in the house and
look out at the other children; and part
of the time was not even able to sit up.
I was doctored but without any apparent
benefit. The doctors in those days did not
seem to understand my case. T?n+ the doc¬
tors now say it was an extreme case of
the rickets, such as they have read about
but have very rarely seen. My mother
prayed for the Lord to take me out of my
intense suffering. There was not a
thought that I could live. My burial
clothes were made, and everybody expect¬
ed that they would shortly be needed. But
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 57
God saw fit to let me live. His thoughts
are not our thoughts, neither are His ways
our ways. If any one had said to my
mother that I should live to be twenty-
eight years old, she would have said it
was out of the question. I stopped grow¬
ing. For years my weight was only
twenty-four or twenty-five pouns; but in
later years I have gained some in weight,
though not in height. My weight at the
present time is about fifty pounds and my
height about thirty-three inches. I ride
in a baby carriage or go-cart, and am
often taken for a baby and spoken to as
such.
As I go about, being so small for my
age, I am quite a curiosity to strangers.
I have often been amused when people
would crowd around me and ask mother
or Sister Katie questions about me, such
as, "Can she talk?" "Is she smart?" "How
old is the baby?" 'Has she got feet?"
"Can she use her hands?" "Oh what a
58 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
big baby!" One lady on the train, not
long ago, came up to me and began to
talk baby talk. "Hello, sir! Hello, sir!
Boo!" This wasi indeed amusing to me.
It drew the attention of every one in the
car. Of course, the baby did not respond
in the way she expected, she supposing it
would laugh and crow. When I was ex¬
plained to her she was somewhat taken
back.
I am often asked if I do not get tired
sitting all the time. Of course, I know
nothing else only sit, as I never walked a
step in my life. I know it must be grand
to be able to walk, but I know nothing
from experience, of the pleasures of walk¬
ing. Some day, I expect to walk the
streets of the New Jerusalem just as well
as those who now have the full use of
their feet; and that will be exceedingly
grand.
If I had been strong and healthy like
other children and young people, perhaps
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 59
I should not have known the Lord. I
might now have been running after the
pleasures of the world. I can't remem¬
ber when I first began to pray. One day
while lying on the bed in my room alone,
the Lord came to me. I wanted to be a
Christian and know that I was saved.
While praying for this the Lord heard my
prayer and blessed my soul. I was not at
that time, more than five years old, and I
have served the Lord ever since. I am
thankful I have been preserved and kept
from the wickedness of the world.
The Lord is so good to me. He often
comes to my heart with such refreshing
peace. He melts my heart so that it is
easy to pray. I say, Oh, Lord, just help
me to pray and prevail with Thee for
others." This world is full of suffering
humanity. There are many in distress,
running after the world, seeking peace
and finding none. The Lord helps me to
pray for such. I cannot help longing to
60 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
be in the active work of tlie Lord, helping
to rescue poor lost souls, and those who
are blinded in sin. But perhaps God can
get more glory out of me as an invalid
than He could if I were well. He can
help me to pray for those who are strong
and able to work in His vineyard. I know
there is nothing accomplished for God
without earnest prayer. So I am content
to fill my little corner and be what God
wants me to be. I say from my heart,
"Thy will be done in earth as it is in
heaven."
I was necessarily deprived, to a great
extent of school privileges. My sisters
taught me my letters and how to spell. I
loved to learn. After we moved to Kan¬
sas, my sister Sarah taught school near a
place called Big Bend, but afterward
named Speed. There was no schoolhouse
in the neighborhood, so she taught in one
room of our house. This was a large
room and served quite well for the pur-
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 61
pose. This gave me a chance to go to
school at home. I was greatly delighted;
and as it did not hurt me to sit in sc hool,
I was allowed to study as much as I lik¬
ed.
In time, my sisters went away from
home to Orleans, Nebraska, to attend
school at the Seminary. Then my father
moved to Orleans to give them the benefit
of the school. We settled close to the
seminary to be handy to school and
church; but still no one thought it pos¬
sible for me to attend school, until in
1889, when my dear friend, Emma H.
Hillmon, now Mrs. Emma H. Haviland,
was Principal of the Seminary. God put
it into her heart to give me a chance to
go to school. She came to see my mother
and offered to give me free tuition in the
seminary, and urged mother to send me.
So every day I was wheeled to school in
my invalid chair, which friends on the
Sappa had kindly donated me; and was
62 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
carried up the steps to the school room
by mother or Katie, and placed at my
desk, where I sat until lessons were over
and they came for me at noon and night.
My bones did not break any more. I was
comparatively healthy, and nothing pre¬
vented my attending school. I was now
fairly started in school and eager to learn.
The following year the seminary closed;
but the next year, under Bev. C. E. Har-
roun, Jr., the way was again open for me
to attend school, and I gladly embraced
the opportunity.
Ever since I was old enough to know
anything about the awful curse of strong
drink, I have been greatly interested in
temperance work, and have felt like lift¬
ing my voice in this grand cause whenever
opportunity presented. I have many
times felt the blessing of God in singing
temperance songs or in speaking temper¬
ance recitations. While in school at Or¬
leans several young people were carefully
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 63
trained by Sister Emma Hillmon on the
Demorest Medal temperance recitations.
These were spoken from time to time in
the Seminary chapel before large audi¬
ences. Judges were appointed who were
to observe critically every word and ges¬
ture and award the medal to the best
speaker. It was in one of these contests
that I won the silver medal which I have
on in my picture, shown on another page.
This medal I could never wear for pride
or show, but only on special occasions to
show my interest in the temperance cause
and my relation to it.
Rev. J. Adams, now living at Green¬
ville, Illinois, but at that time pastor at
Orleans, sometimes gave temperance lec¬
tures around at county schoolhouses. At
such times he would often take with him
some of the students from the seminary
to sing, and I was sometimes called upon
to speak or sing in these meetings.
64 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
Of later years my thoughts and atten¬
tion have been called more particularly
to foreign missionary work. When my
dear friend, Miss Hillmon, left Orleans,
on her way to Africa, my heart was stir¬
red. I longed to go too and work for the
elevation and salvation of my own race.
All the years she was in Africa I was in
close correspondence with her, and felt
that in spirit, if not in bodily presence, I
was by her side. Since, I have had the
pleasure of meeting several different mis¬
sionaries from Africa, India, and China,
and have come to feel a deep interest in
every heathen land. Since I can never go
myself to carry the Gospel to the heathen,
I esteem it a great privilege to help hold
the ropes in this country, and to pray for
and encourage those who go.
As I look back over my past life, and
remember how good the Lord has been to
me through all my sufferings, I am made
to wonder. But if He can get any glory
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 65
out of my life I shall be satisfied. There
have been persons who would say to my
mother, "Why don't you take her to the
show or museum? That wouldn't be any
harm and you could make your liv¬
ing easily." Others would say, "There is
a fortune in that girl." Quite recently a
gentleman said to my niece, as he saw me
for the first time, "There is ready money."
But, dear reader, God did not create
me for this purpose. He created me for
His glory, and if I can be a help to any
one, and if God can get glory to His name
out of my life, amen! To this end shall I
live. It has never been a temptation to
me to want to go with a show or to be in
a museum for money making purposes.
I once went to a museum in Chicago just
to see and learn. I was asked by one there
why I did not speak to the manager and
get a place in the museum, and make lots
of money. Oh, no! Such places are not
for me. God wants me to live for Him,
66 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE
and I could not do it there. I must keep
separated from the world. "Wherefore
come out from among them and be ye sep¬
arate, saith the Lord, and touch not the
unclean thing; and I will receive you; and
will be a father unto you, and ye shall be
my sons and daughters, saith the Lord Al¬
mighty." The love of God in my heart
keeps me from wanting to do the things
that God disapproves and I love to do the
things that He approves.
Some wonder how I can be happy in my
condition. It is the sunlight of God in
my soul that makes me happy. It would
be hard to live without the Lord. I get
much pleasure from the reading of good
books. I enjoy looking at the beautiful
things in nature and in art. I love to lis¬
ten to the singing of the birds and to
sweet music. In fact many pleasures come
to me through the five senses, of which I
have full use. Then too, I have goad use
of my hands and can work and earn a lit-
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 67
tie. And of the little I earn, the Lord
gets the tenth. That is His. I am so
thankful that the Lord enables me to work
in this way. For if I could not use my
hands, or if I could not read, time would
drag heavily, and life would become very
monotonous. The work I do is knitting,
crocheting, fancy work, and making
horse hair watch chains. The Lord al¬
ways provides a way for His children.
And then I am blessed in having a host
of friends. Every one is so good to me,
and seeks to make my life pleasant and
cheerful. I have many pleasant hours
with the teachers and students of the Or¬
leans Seminary. I can never forget them.
They have been such a help to me.
Another blessing I enjoy is a comfort¬
able home, just a few rods from the sem¬
inary, where I attend Sunday School and
church. Our home is a home where the
Lord has come to dwell. Our family is
small now. A part have crossed over the
68 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
river. There are five girls left, myself
and four sisters, three of whom are mar¬
ried. Our family now at home consists of
mother, myself, and Sister Katie, my
faithful attendant. I am thankful to God
that He has spared to me my dear mother
and sister, who have cared for me so kind¬
ly and tenderly all these years. In all
of my helplessness, and now more espec¬
ially in mother's old age and failing
health, Katie has been and is today our
cheerful and faithful standby. She has
surely had abundant opportunities for
the exercise of patience. Of her it shall
be said, "She hath done what she could."
"Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of
the least of these my brethren, ye have
done it unto me."
perfect Ibrougb Suffering.
God never would send you the darkness
If He felt you could bear the light;
But you would not cling to His guiding hand
If the way were always bright;
And you would not care to walk by faith,
Could you always walk by sight.
'Tis true He has many an anguish,
For our sorrowful hearts to bear;
And many a cruel thorn-crown
For your tired head to wear;
He knows how few would reach heav'n at all
If pain did not guide them there.
So He sends you the blinding darkness,
And the furnace of seven-fold heat;
'Tis the only way,, believe me,
To keep you close to His feet,
For 'tis always so easy to wander
When our lives are glad and sweet.
Then nestle your hand in your Father's,
And sing, if you can, as you go;
Your song may cheer some one behind you
Whose courage is sinking low,
And, well, if your lips do quiver
God will love you better so.
—Sel.
Unctoents of Slavery
The time of slavery were troublous
times, to those who felt its crushing
power. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of
happiness, have been defined as the inal¬
ienable rights of every human being. To
have an existence as a human being, and
yet to be held under such bondage as de¬
prives one of all human rights,—such an
existence must ever be a misery. With no
right to have property, family, or even
a name of his own apart from that of his
master, to the slave, the pursuit of happi¬
ness was a terribly disappointing one. Yet
in just such a condition of thralldom were
held four millions of Africa's sons and
daughters on American soil, until at one
stroke by the Emancipation Proclama¬
tion, the shackles were riven, and these
millions of lowly creatures were human
beings in reality as well as in name.
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 71
The following incidents of slave IfFe,
with many others like them, have been
related by my mother as having come un¬
der her own observation. There was a
man in Mississippi by the name of Greg¬
ory, who was very cruel to his slaves; so
much so, that they would run away from
him whenever they got a chance. Rarely,
however, did one succeed in escaping, for
the blood-hounds were at once on their
track. Mngled and bleeding, they were
caught and brought back, and as a pun¬
ishment for running away, they were re¬
quired to work on the Sabbath day to
make up their lost time. Mr. Gregory
went out one Sabbath to oversee the de¬
linquents in some wood-chopping. A tree,
in falling, accidentally lodged in another
tree. This angered the master, and in no
very amiable mood, he set to work to help
pull it down, when by some mismanage¬
ment, it fell on him and killed him in-
72 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE
stantly. This would seem a just judg¬
ment for his unrighteousness.
The marriage ceremony for slaves had
in it a clause requiring them to cleave to
each other 'until distance should them
part'; meaning until their master sold
them apart. One day we heard a terrible
screaming in the road which passed our
house, and on going out to see what the
trouble was about, there was poor Amy
Griffin, crying and wringing her hands in
awful agony, as she was hurried along
the road between two strange men. "Oh
my poor husband! I shall never see you
any more—never any more!" She had
been sold away from her husband, and
they were taking her hundreds of miles
away.
One master who lived near us had large
cotton fields and about one hundred
slaves. Each one was required to pick a
certain amount of cotton daily. The
amount varied somewhat with different
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 73
individuals, and was from fifty to one
hundred pounds, according to the age and
strength of the picker. No allowance was
made for temporary illness or indisposi¬
tion on the part of any slave. Each was
expected, invariably, to measure up to his
apportionment. At the end of the day,
every basket was weighed by a white man.
Any shortage in weight was punished by
a terrible beating with a large ox-hide
whip. Yery often would be heard the
screams of poor slaves who had failed to
pick their full quota.
After the day's work was over, the
slaves had dealt out to them some corn
meal and fat bacon, which each had to
prepare for himself in his own cabin. They
must prepare at night enough for the next
day. This was carried to the field and
eaten cold, so there should be no loss
of time from their work.
All the masters were not like this, how¬
ever. I had a good, kind master. I was
74 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
one of the fortunate ones. I was never
abused like this; but my poor mother did
not have a square inch of smooth skin on
her back. The lash had cut deep gashes
which left ugly scars and ridges.
I have seen my poor people bought up
by hundreds, and word sent out that "a
drove of niggers" was to be in town on a
certain day. The poor things would be
lined up in rows, men, women, and chil¬
dren; and one after another they were
sold, from an auction block to the highest
bidder. Miserable, contemptible white
men would examine that human property,
much as you would examine a horse, even
thrusting open jaws to examine the teeth,
and feeling the muscles of arm or body.
I have seen them pass their rough hands
over the arms, neck, and bust of women
and girls, and ask such questions as were
degrading in the extreme; and yet the
poor creatures could not help themselves
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
75
—no, not though every instinct of decency
or modesty was outraged.
I have seen the little baby taken from
its mother's breast and sold hundreds of
miles away, never to be seen or heard of
again. A mother who lived near us had
a little son sold away from her at about
two years of age, and was never able to
get any trace of him afterward, until very
unexpectedly, and by the merest accident,
she discovered her lost son. After the war
was over and slaves were free, she met and
loved a man and was- finally married to
him. One day she observed a peculiar
scar on his head, and told him of her lit¬
tle son who had a similar scar caused by
a kick from a horse when he was a baby.
They began to investigate, and found that
he was her long lost boy. She had mar¬
ried her own child!
My people were, many of them, God¬
fearing, and took advantage of every
chance they had to meet together and
76 SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
serve the Lord. They would sometimes
be permitted to occupy the back seats of
the white man's church. But when the
white people came in sufficient numbers
to fill the church, the slaves were ordered
out of doors. They had no choice as to
what church they should attend, but were
obliged to attend the same church as their
master. The sacrament was administered
to them separately.
Among themselves they sometimes had
powerful meetings, and would get saved
and blest and feel the joys of another
world. This would cause them to forget,
for the time being, their miseries in this.
Faith would catch a gleam of the day
when they should burst their shackles and
go free. For this they sighed and cried
and prayed. And there came a day, thank
God, when the groans and cries of the op¬
pressed reached the ears of the Heavenly
Father; and though He delayed a while,
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
yet He did come and show His power, and
His colored children are free today. And
for this I desire to give Him all the
glory.
Gbe ©ctoroon.
1. In the palmy days of slavery,
A score of years ago,
A pretty, dark-skinned Octoroon
Was singing soft and low
A song to please her baby
As in her arms it lay,
A dainty, dimpled, fair-haired boy—
A twelve-month old that day.
2. Strange home for child or mother!
For her quick ear often heard,
'Mid the clink of dice and glasses,
Many a loud and angry word.
For her Phillip was a gambler;
But she never dreamed or thought
Of any shame or sorrow
For the wrongs he might have wrought.
3. "He plays 'seven-up' 'till midnight,"
She often laughing told,
"And then, like other gentlemen,
Comes home and counts his gold."
4. So she was always happy,
Singing French songs, sweet and wild,
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
79
With a voice as full of music
As the laughing of a child.
But, the midnight, she was waiting
For his footstep on the stair,
Came a sound of measured meaning
Throbbing on the silent air!
5. Came a sound of troubled voices,
Filling all her soul with dread—
Comrads, bearing up a burden,
Cold and lifeless! Phil was dead!
Like a sudden blow, it smote her
With a desolate sense of grief,
But no faintness came to shield her,
And no tears to bring relief.
6. Oh, to escape the heart-ache,
And the dumb, bewildering pain.
How gladly would she fall asleep
And never wake again!
Yet, she watched with heart near breaking
As they bore his form away;
Then she listened to the prosing
Of two lawyers, old and gray.
7. As they talked of debts of honor,
Of the house, and horses fine,
Of, plate, perhaps and jewels;
Of furniture and wine;
80
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
Then! Ah! Then, what was the meaning
Of the words they muttered o'er?
As they said: "The wench and baby
Ought to bring a thousand more!"
8. Quickened ears and comprehension
Caught each careless tone and word;
Knew too well the tricks of trade
To doubt the fearful truth she heard.
But when they so roughly told her:
"There will be a sale tomorrow!"
Her voice broke forth in piteous wail
Of bitterness and sorrow:—
9. "Oh, I know Phil never meant
For me and baby to be sold!
Why, I'se been his little woman
Since I'se only twelve years old!
He won me from the Captin,
Playing 'seven-up' one night,
And he's told me more'n a thousand times
He's sure to make It right.
10. The Captin was my father,
Captin Winslow, of Bellair,
And you can't sell me and baby—
O you can',t! You never dare!"
And those men, so used to suffering,
And callous as they were,
Ei tt;a Suggs, Age 16.
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 81
Looked in each other's faces
And paused to pity her.
11. But "many a case was just as bad,
And some perhaps were worse;
They could do nothing, anyhow,
The law must take its course."
The broken hearted mother
Tried in vain to sleep that night,
Her busy brain would conjure up
Some possible means of flight.
12. Well she knew she was a prisoner,
That the house was thronged with men;
Knew, too, that for years this place
Had been a noted gambler's den,
And a long, low vaulted chamber
Ran beneath the basement floor,
Opening far beyond detection,
In a heavy, hidden door.
13. She shuddered with a vision
Of the bloodhounds on her track,
As she thought deadly certain
They would be to bring her back!
14. O, she could not, could not bear it!
She would kill herself and him!
Then, across her 'wildered memory
Stole a visfon faint and dim,
82
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
Of some reverent childish teaching,
Prayer to God, and faith and fear—
"Lead us not into temptation!"
Was He listening? Did He hear?
15. Then she thought of old Aunt Dinah,
Who had taught her thus to pray,
Living free in Oppoloosa,
Half a score of miles away.
16. And at last, she rose, determined
That the danger should be braved;
Though her life might pay the forfeit,
Little Phillip should be saved!
So she "wrapped her sleeping treasure
In a mantle dark and thin,
Tied a gaudy-hued bandana
'Neath her smoothly-rounded chin,
17. Planned her flight to escape detection,
And removing every trace,
With a subtle, stealthy movement
Of a leopard, left the place.
And she paused not in the journey,—
Life or death still lay before!
'Till she struggled, worn and weary,
To Aunt Dinah's cabin door.
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
Hush! a voice of prayer and pleading
On the midnight calm is heard:—
"Teach us,,Lord, through all our blindness
To believe Thy precious "word.
Help us when our hearts are heavy;
Guide us when we go astray;
Lead us in the paths we know not,
Nearer to Thee, day by day."
With her spirit vision opened
By some unseen inner sight,
Old Aunt Dinah had arisen
And was praying in the night.
In her strong, black arms she gathered
Weary mother, wondering child;
And she listened to their story
Full of anguish, fierce and wild.
Knowing well she could not save them,
That her love though strong and bright,
Was as chaff before the whirlwind
Of the white man's power and might.
"I would give my poor old heart's blood,
Every drop for yours and you,
If I could but keep you, honey,
From this path you'r walking through.
But, I've seen it all too often;
They will hunt you if you hide,
84
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
They will catch you if you'r fleeing,
They will take you from my side;
And they'll take your baby from you,
Stop! De Lord's own voice I hear;
Will you trust your precious darling
To my care and leave him here?
22. "'I will keep him from all danger;
Hide him where no eye can see;
And 'twill be a comfort deary,
If you always know he's free.
Don't look so; give me the baby;
Yes, I know how hard it is,
But we do the Father's bidding,
Not in our way, but in His.
23. "I will pray for you tomorrow;
Now the moon is going down,
You must take my little donkey,
Child, and hurry back to town.
Ride him just as far's you dare to,
Then tie up the bridle rein,
Turn his head, he's done sartain
To come right straight home again!"
24. When next morning she was summoned
Prom her room, she walked alone;
Though her fierce, brown eyes burned darkly,
They were tearless, dry as stone.
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 85
And the lawyers and the keepers
Looked at her and shrank away,
'Minded by her wondrous beauty
Of a tigress turned at bay.
25. But a query ran among them,—
Of the baby—where was he?
'Till she heard their words and answered"
Very calmly—"He is free!"
"Free! The house was strongly guarded,
Every window, every door;
They had seen both child and mother
Safely caged the night before!
26. "Not a living thing had ventured
O'er the threshold that they knew;
And the hounds with hungry voices
Bayed outside the whole night through."
Instant search sufficed to show them
That the baby was not there;
Not a hint, or trace, or sign
Could they discover anywhere.
27. Then, with threatening look and gesture
To the mother they returned,
But she said in words triumphant,
While her eyes more brightly burned: —
28. "Strike me! Minions! I expect it!
Scourge me! burn me! beat or kill!
86
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
But it will not help you find him.
He is Free! my darling Phil!
Think you, I would fear to hide him
In the darkness of the grave?
Ah, my baby's father's baby
Was not born to be a slave!"
29. So, with furtive eyes they watched her,
Talking low 'mid fear and fright,
Half afraid 'mid their bravado,
She would vanish from their sight.
But she stood as stands the martyr,
When -his last frail hope dies out,
And the murmuring sea of voices
Rises to an angry shout.
80. And she thought not of her beauty
As her heart beat fast and faster,
Gazing on those stranger faces,
Wondering which would be her master.
But, the horrid truth awoke her,—
"Going, going, gone!" It told
That beyond all hope or dreamiiig,
She was sold,—to slavery sold!
31. Then, as if the soul within her
Larger grew with pain and strife,
Or, as if some marble statue
Started forth, a thing of life,
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE. 87
Turned she, with the footsteps silent
As a specter of the dead,
From their midst she swiftly fled.
Ere a hand could lift to stay her.
32. On—to where the lofty margin
Overlooked the river's flood,
There she paused and turned in triumph
As upon its brink she stood:
"Cowards! Do you dare to follow
To your gulf, to find your slave?
Think you that I fear to render
Back to God the life He gave.
S3. Let him in his righteous Judgement
Weigh the guilt 'twixt you and me;
Let him guard my boy and keep him
When his mother, too, is free!
Back! you have no power to stay me!
Stop! I would not hear you lie.
Back! I laugh at you, my masters!
Free I *-.ve! and free I die!"
34. Turning with a look of triumph
And a smile of proud disdain,
Sprang she forth into the river,
Sank, and rose—and sank again.
Onward swept the mighty river
On its journey to the sea;
But the mother's woes were ended—
Child ana mother both were free.
—Selected.
IPauUne tbe IReapcr.
"A beautiful time for the harvest"
Said Pauline, the reaper, one day;
My sheaves shall be many and golden
When the Master cometh this way;
My place is where grain is the ripest,
And my hands are young and strong;
Nor care I for heat or (for) labor
As'I sing the reaper's song.
Gathering, gathering for the King,
Hands may grow weary but glad hearts sing,
"Till he comes."
"Pauline,"—'twas the voice of the Master,
And she paused in her happy haste,
Where for the want of a skilful reaper
Ripe grain was going to waste.
Pauline, "Leave there thy sheaf unbinded,
And now come aside with me"
Was the Master's word of greeting
"I, something would say to thee."
And she heard the happy ringing
Of the reapers in their singing
"Till He comes."
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
"'Wait here and help on the harvest,"
Was the Master's strange command,
As she reached a lonely corner
And folded her eager hands.
She waited in painful silence
Waited with weary heart;
For how could she help the reapers
If she did not do her part.
Afar she cauld hear them calling
"Thy beautiful grain is falling,
Pauline, Pauline, art thou hiding;
Thou wilt have nothing but chiding,
When He comes."
Her heart was heavy with sorrow,
And desolate was the cry,
Oh, why, when I love my Master
Am I like a weed thrown by?
I left the world and its treasures
Nor heeded a moment its cost
To take my place with the reapers,
Now all my talents are lost.
Nevermore will I be singing
Where the ripest grain is springing
When He comes."
"Pauline," 'twas the voice of the Master,
"The harvest is mine, not thine
If waiting gives me best service
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE
Surely thou needst not repine,
Another has taken thy sickle;
It only is left to thee
To see in this lone hidden corner
What work can he done for me.
There can be no place so dreary.
There can he no place so weary,
But that all can help in bringing
Golden sheaves with happy singing,
Till I come."
So she smiled and gave a welcome
To pain which would be her guest;
And patience and sweet submission
Came soon with their helpful rest,
With their help in her shadowed corner,
Like stars through the gathering gloom,
There sprang for Pauline fairest flowers
That filled every spot with bloom.
Then the Master came so often,
It was caled a holy place
And the weary reapers lingered
For more love and lowly grace;
And they went their own way singing
"We shall all be ripe grain bringing
Till He comes."
"Thou canst plan for the busy workers"
Pauline heard the Master say!
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
And she joyfully took the message
And said when one passed her way
"Take flowers to the darkened poisons,
And glooms to the bed of pain
And blossoms to the weary mother
Thy labor will not be vain"
They heeded her gentle bidding
And fragrance went everywhere,
While tired eyes were lifted upward
And sad hearts were saved despair.
In her room came back the echo
Of the reapers in their singing
"Till He comes."
'"Tis time the sheaves were garnered"
Said the Master when eve had come
And the reapers in the gloaming
Were singing their harvest home.
Then Pauline observed in wonder
As they entered the sunset gate
Her name on sheaves rich and golden
That were gathered early and late.
And the Master smiled approval
And said as she meekly came,
"Thine is the crown of the toilers
That were garnered for me in thy name"
And the bells of heaven were ringing
While the angel choir was singing
"He has come." —Selected.
Zbe 1bol£ (Suest.
by Eliza Suggs.
O, the blessed Holy One,
Hath come within my heart to dwell,
And the good that He has done
My tongue can never tell.
He took away my stony heart,
And put a heart of flesh therein.
And now O sin thou hast no part
But Jesus dwells within.
He has bidden sin depart,
And has entered my heart's door
Saying, "Now my child thou art,
Go, and sin no more."
Zbc Brunfcart>'0 Mite.
by Eliza Suggs.
Here sits a dear old lady
In her rustic chair,
Sunbeams gently falling
On her snow-white hair.
There is a sad, sad story,
Written on her face
Sorrow and woe, long, long ago,
Have left the sad lines you trace.
Chorus:
She had a drunken husband!
After all these years,
Golden hair is silver now,
Dim those eyes with tears.
She had a drunken husband
Waiting him to reform.
He went away one bitter cold day
He now fills a drunkard's grave.
Far, far away McDonald
Went in revelry.
"Stay, I pray you husband,
Do not go away.
That is the road to ruin,
That is the road to sin.
Says the word of God, in Heaven above,
No drunkard shall enter in.
SHADOW AND SUNSHINE.
"Just one glass, McDonald,"
Said his comrades dear.
"Just this once to please us
A social glass of beer."
"Just this once to please you
I take my first glass now.
I'll take no more, dear wife, I'm sure,
I make to you this vow."
That was his first step downward;
On and on he went.
Powerful grew the habit
Downward he was bent,—
Drank 'till he raved in madness,
Then came the fatal day
With a curse and stare and clutching
his hair,
His soul then passed away.
When the sad tidings reached her
She fell, they thought her dead,
Then there came a doctor,
"A broken heart," he said.
That's why she's sad and lonely,
Waiting for him in vain;
He went away one bitter cold day,
And never returned again.