LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
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THE 
 
 Young Chaplain. 
 
 " I feel that the cause requires the sacrifice of dearest interests." 
 
 — Page 92. 
 
 BY HIS MOTHER. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 N. TIBBALS & SONS, PUBLISHERS, 
 No. 37 Park Row. 
 
 1876. 
 
The manuscript for this little work was written 
 soon after William's death, but for many reasons was 
 not printed at that time. Although years have passed, 
 his friends still feel that to have the story of his short 
 life before them in print will tend to strengthen and 
 comfort their still sorrowing hearts ; that the words he 
 has spoken, the self-sacrificing spirit he manifested in 
 defense of his country, and, more than all, his earnest- 
 ness, zeal, and fidelity in the cause of his Divine Mas- 
 ter, may stir their hearts — influencing them more and 
 more to live as he lived, so far as he followed Christ, 
 thus becoming more and more ready to die as he died, 
 calmly, believing, trusting, saying as he said, " Now, 
 if it be the will of God." 
 . New Haven, Ct., March ist, 1876. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 The Chaplain's Early Life— His Eastern Home— Trebizond — 
 Cllimpse of the City— Constantinople— Smyrna— Boyhood 
 Correspondence— Editing Newspapers — Kite Flying— The 
 Kosta Affair— Missionary Work and Times in the Orient. 
 
 • 1 Page 5-3S 
 
 Sails for America— Voyage Notes— Arrival at Boston - School 
 and College Days— Teaching Experiences— Decides to En- 
 ter the Ministry— Studies in Kentucky— Begins Preaching- 
 Anxiety over the Threatening Condition of the Country — 
 Devotion to the Union —War Letters— Enlists as a Soldier. 
 
 Page 39 — 96 
 
 Appointed Chaplain of the 13th Kentucky \'olunteers - Buell's 
 Army— First Attempt to Preach to the Troops — Marches 
 and Skirmishes— Among the Enemy's Pickets- Leave of 
 Ab.sence — Ordained as a Minister -Li the Field Again— In- 
 terest in the Soldiers -Views of the Prayer-Meeting -P'aith. 
 Courage, Hope for the Country— No Despairing in his 
 Work — Camp Exposure— The Chaplain's Sudden Illness- 
 Death— Letters on his Life and Character. Page 97 -13S 
 
In December, 1833, Mr. and Mrs. Johnston sailed 
 from Boston in company with Mr. and Mrs. Schnei- 
 der, for Smyrna, Asia Minor, as missionaries of the 
 American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Mis- 
 sions. A voyage of forty-seven days brought them to 
 that city. From thence they proceeded to Constanti- 
 nople in a sailing-vessel ; for at that time there were 
 no steamers on those seas. Mr. Schneider was sta- 
 tioned at Broosa. Mr. Johnston, after some delay, 
 went to Trebizond, occupying the station permanently 
 in the spring of 1835. 
 
 William Curtis Johnston, the subject of this memo- 
 rial, was born at Trebizond, Asia Minor, on the nth 
 
of June, 1839. ^^ ^^^^ t^^ second son of Rev. 
 Thomas P. Johnston and Marianne C. Howe Johns- 
 ton. His paternal ancestors were of Scotch-Irish de- 
 scent, and settled in Iredell County, North Carolina. 
 His paternal grandmother, Mary Hall Johnston, was 
 a grand-niece of the well-known divine, Dr. Rob- 
 ert Hall, of North Carolina, from whose ancestors 
 descended a regular line of ministers of the Gospel, of 
 whom William was the youngest and the last. His 
 maternal ancestors were of English descent, and settled 
 in New England. His maternal grandfather, Curtis 
 Howe, was born in Granville, Massachusetts, May 10, 
 1772, married Sibyl Phelps, of Springfield, Massa- 
 chusetts, and went to Swanton, Vermont, where he re- 
 sided many years ; subsequently he removed to Ohio. 
 He led a long and uniformly Christian life, and died at 
 Grasshopper Falls, Kansas, January 16, 1871, in the 
 ninety-ninth year of his age. 
 
The city of Trebizond lies upon the southern shore 
 of the Black Sea, about 600 miles east of Constanti- 
 nople. The population at this time was estimated at 
 about 30,000, composed principally of Turks, Arme- 
 nians, Greeks, and Jews. William's mother was then 
 the only woman in the place who spoke the English lan- 
 guage. The prospect around the city and in the distance 
 is charming. The sea comes dashing in from the north. 
 The peaks of the Circassian Mountains rise in the east. 
 The trees around the city appear above the red-tiled 
 roofs of the houses ; everything is inviting and cheerful 
 till you reach the interior of the place. Then you come 
 into narrow, filthy streets, walled in, and you are at once 
 reminded that you are in a Turkish city. On the south 
 you will find many by-paths — no roads — leading into the 
 country, the principal one of which goes on to Persia. 
 
 The home of William's childhood was remarkably 
 quiet and secluded. The house in which he was born 
 
was a stone structure inclosed on all sides by a thick 
 stone wall — so high that we could not view the street 
 even from the highest window. Two large, heavy 
 gates opened communication through the yard, from 
 street to street, secured inside by large wooden beams 
 drawn across them from crevices in the wall. Beyond 
 this inclosure the children were not allowed to go, un- 
 less accompanied by some trusty person. In the 
 yard, nearly in front of the house, stood a large, beau- 
 tiful pomegranate tree, under the boughs of which the 
 little boy passed many a playful hour, watching, first, 
 the deep crimson blossom, and then the ripening fruit. 
 When he was nearly two years old he had the small- 
 pox. We consulted our medicine-book (for there was 
 no reliable physician in the place). He grew worse. 
 Providentially, Dr. Bell, of the English Embassy to 
 Persia, was passing through the city, and was called in 
 to see him. He at once pronounced it the small-pox, 
 and ordered the mother and child into strict quaran- 
 tine. The severity of the disease, however, had passed. 
 
. 9 
 
 The eruption appeared, and the pustules on his little 
 hands seemed a perfect wonderment to himself, and 
 furnished him while in that lone place with many an 
 hour of talk, after his own fashion. 
 
 The plague, too, raged fearfully, for weeks and even 
 for months at a time. Our children were as though 
 they were in prison. We dare not come in contact 
 with any one from without. Great is the alarm when 
 this disease appears. The Christians flee in all direc- 
 tions. The Mussulman is a fatalist : if he Is to die, 
 he will die ; he does not flee. We and our children 
 were mercifully preserved amid much suffering and 
 death. The family, during the hot season, often re- 
 sorted to the hills a short distance from the city. Wil- 
 liam's journey thither was performed In a basket tied 
 to the side of a mule, with his brother in a basket on 
 the other side, and a large mass of bedding or other 
 baggage thrown between them upon the top of the 
 animal. When all was ready, the muleteer, with 
 cudgel in hand, drove on till they reached the village. 
 
10 
 
 Here a native hut answered for kitchen, a corn-crib for 
 bed-room, and a hazel-nut grove for dining-room and 
 parlor. The crib stood upon four posts, three feet or 
 more from the ground. The floor was of wicker-work, 
 and the roof so low that none but the " wee " little 
 ones could stand erect under it. There the children 
 slept — and sweetly too, for the crib was clean, and free 
 from vermin — which could not be said of the hut. 
 There, too, with no artificial walls to restrict their way, 
 the little fellows bounded from grove to dense wood, 
 following the herdsmen to the cool brook. It was real 
 sport for young boys who had been confined in a 
 Turkish city for nearly a year. William had with him 
 his American cards of easy reading, and enjoyed his 
 lessons quite as much as his play. His love of study 
 and books showed itself in his first knowledge of 
 them, and the missionary mother, of all others, may be 
 well content if her boy loves study, for where will she 
 find a farm or v/ork-shop for him ? The winter of his 
 fifth year he read the book of Psalms aloud to his 
 
II 
 
 mother. He read in the early evening, and was so 
 eager to read too long, that a certain number of verses 
 was allotted him for each lesson. Placing his Bible 
 upon the table, and seating himself in his high chair 
 he read in a clear, full voice, and so earnest in expres- 
 sion, that he seemed to catch a little of the spirit of 
 the great Psalmist whose words he was repeating. 
 
 At this age he could talk in the Turkish language 
 
 about as well as in the English, but as soon as he 
 
 beean to read and understand his own language for 
 
 himself, the English soon got ahead of the Turkish. 
 
 He used the one for convenience and the other for 
 
 improvement. He was often out-doors on Greek and 
 
 Turkish holidays, where crowds of men, women, and 
 
 children were assembled for recreation on the Medan, 
 
 or public square. The natives wore the fez (close red 
 
 cloth head-dress), and were often curious to know what 
 
 our boys' hats were made of; and when told, straw, 
 
 said : '' We would not wear seman (straw) upon our 
 
 heads." 
 
12 
 
 All were equipped in gay colors, sending forth 
 salaams — greetings — and even the poor beggar joyed 
 over his nearly full cup of paras, or coins, of which it 
 took about eight to make a penny. 
 
 William often met funeral processions upon the 
 street. The corpse, sometimes gayly and richly dressed, 
 was borne through the streets in an open box, the 
 priests and church boys following, bearing lighted 
 tapers. Then came mourning-women with loud lamen- 
 tation. At the church the corpse was put in a winding- 
 sheet — not in a coffin — and laid in a shallow grave. At 
 the church-gate was a man with a large copper platter 
 full of boiled wheat, sprinkled with sugar, a handful of 
 which was given to each one passing, in order to secure 
 a prayer for the rest of the soul of the dead. 
 
 In these uncivilized countries funerals are conducted 
 in a hurried, careless manner; yet it is death, and the 
 thoughtful child, though young, will not forget the 
 solemn scene. 
 
 The arrival of missionary friends from America, on 
 
13 
 
 their way to Persia, was hailed with great joy by the 
 children. No introduction was necessary. They list- 
 ened with eagerness to the things they said about the 
 land of their fathers. The visit was worth more to 
 them, twice over, than the same time spent over books, 
 and the lone, monotonous life to which they were sub- 
 ject was broken in upon for a little. The time, how- 
 ever, seemed too short, for in a few days the boxes 
 were ready, the mules loaded, and the friends were off 
 — quite a little caravan, following on in each other's 
 track. 
 
 William's first Sabbath lessons were reading a chap- 
 ter from the Bible with his elder brother and sister, 
 and asking questions upon it. His questions were 
 generally ready, and showed that he thought on 
 what he read, and wished to understand it. No read- 
 ing interested him more than Bible history. 
 
 In 1844, the family left Trebizond for Smyrna, on the 
 eastern shore of the Mediterranean Sea. William found 
 
14 
 
 here a little company of missionary children, whose 
 society was congenial, profitable, and safe. It was a 
 sort of new life. Many marks of civilization were observ- 
 able. There were many English and French residents; 
 the Franks, or foreigners, showed some energy ; the mer- 
 chants among them had finely-built stores, instead of 
 open sheds like the Turkish bazaars. Willie now and 
 then saw a carriage, something he had never seen at 
 Trebizond. The Franks wore hats, and the ladies wore 
 bonnets, but the streets were, as they are in all Turkish 
 cities, narrow and filthy. The first Christmas we spent 
 at Smyrna was a solemn day to the children and to us all. 
 Samuel Riggs,* one of the missionary boys, about eight 
 years old, was buried on that day ; he had fallen from a 
 terrace, and died in a few hours. A few days after. 
 Miss Shrewsbury died. She was a sister of Mrs. John 
 B. Adger. These were the first funerals the children 
 had witnessed among friends. 
 
 * Son of Dr. Elias Riggs. 
 
15 
 
 The summer of 1845, the house we were In was 
 burned. At sunset we hurried away, having secured 
 nearly all our goods. The flames were rushing on be- 
 hind us, and a dense crowd before us. The little ones 
 were in danger of being crushed as well as burned. We 
 spent the night in an open field, and the next morning 
 went to the village of Bournabat, two hours distant from 
 the city. Willie's stay in the village was pleasant and 
 healthy. He was much in the open air, and not hurried 
 in his lessons, amusing himself watching the flocks 
 of sheep and goats following the shepherd over the hills. 
 He now began to write short notes to his companions, 
 and also to older friends. Mrs. Brown * took much in- 
 terest in the missionary children, writing them little 
 notes, which pleased them, and were a source of im- 
 provement. We have not his own notes, but give ex- 
 tracts from those of his friends. 
 
 * Sister of the late Commodore Porter, and mother of the late John P. 
 Brown, who was for many years connected with the American Legation 
 at Constantinople. 
 
i6 
 
 " Constantinople, Oct. 25, 1845. 
 
 ** My Dear William : — I was surprised to receive such 
 a nice little letter from you — as the only recollection I 
 have of you is as a little infant in your mother's arms ; 
 but, as children do not remain infants, I ought to have 
 remembered that t/iat was five or six years ago. You 
 wish me to write you in a large hand, and I am doing 
 so, and you must let me know if you can read this let- 
 ter. By what you tell me of your studies, you will, I 
 see, one day become a learned man. Write to me by 
 
 the next steamer. 
 
 '' M. P. BroWxN." 
 
 ^'Trebizond, Dec, 1846. 
 
 " I am glad to see you are improving in your writing, 
 and I hope you will try and be a good scholar in every- 
 thing. Little Hattie Charnaud is a very fat little girl, and 
 looks like her sister, Eveline. Little Edward Stevens, 
 too, is large enough to walk on the Medan. Mrs. 
 Stoddard's Hattie in Ooroomiah knows nearly all her 
 letters. Mary Bliss knows A and O, but no more. 
 I send you a purse — how would you like to put money 
 in it for the poor heathen children, and see how much 
 you will get in the New Year, 1847 ? 
 
 ''Mrs. E. E. B." 
 
i; 
 
 "Erzroom, Jan. 29, 1847. 
 
 '♦ My dear little Friend :— Many days have passed 
 since I received your last letter, but you must not sup- 
 pose that it was uninteresting to me because it has 
 remained a long time unanswered. You must remem- 
 ber that you are as yet but a little boy, and that Dr. 
 Smith has a great many friends older than you to 
 whom he must first pay attention. There are his sick 
 friends, for whom he must prepare medicine ; there 
 are his missionary associates, to whom he must write 
 long letters ; and there are his Armenian brethren, with 
 whom he must converse. Every week he spends three 
 or four evenings in visits to their houses ; and in this 
 way he occupies much time which it would be very 
 agreeable to employ in writing to you. But to explain 
 more fully. At one house where I visit, there are 
 three children whom I teach every evening, either 
 about the multiplication table, which we used to play 
 at Trebizond, or about some other useful thing. Now, 
 I want to ask you, William, whether you are to become 
 a learned man, and then commence teaching those who 
 have ignorant parents? If so, you must write me in 
 your next letter all about it, and what you are learning 
 nowadays to help you on. Gregor, whom you used 
 to know, is living with me, and sends you, and all your 
 family, much love. 
 
 "AzARiAH Smith." 
 2 
 
i8 
 
 William was now eight years old, a healthy, active, 
 social, loving little fellow, very pleasant to us all. He 
 was much interested in his correspondence. His 
 own notes cost him some labor. He was not much 
 drilled in spelling; was told to go to the dictionary and 
 learn how to spell a word before he wrote it. This was 
 rather a tedious rule, but very effectual ; for in his first 
 writing we find very few words misspelled. The boys 
 •of the Mission were very fond of boat-making and boat- 
 sailing; of kite-making and kite-flying; you would see 
 .them on a terrace upon the top of a high house, their 
 kites rising higher and higher, with the shout and glee 
 of the player after them. They often, too, had a ride 
 .upon a donkey. This was done up in real Oriental 
 style. They had no bridles, and if the driver perchance 
 lagged behind, as he often did, the headstrong donkey 
 would stand still in the street, or run up a bank, or 
 down into a ditch, remaining stationary until the driver 
 came up ; then by force of the cane the donkey would 
 go off on a gallop, and as like as not, in a moment or 
 
19 
 
 two, be down upon his fore legs, the rider tipping 
 over his head, and landing upon the ground. Another 
 favorite recreation was sea-bathing. A white-turbaned 
 caiquegee (boatman) would row them out where the 
 water was deep and clear near the shore. This was in- 
 deed a refreshing exercise on hot summer mornings, 
 such as we had there. 
 
 The spring of 1847, M^- Johnston left home for 
 Aleppo, Aintab, and other places. His family during 
 his absence spent the summer months at Boujah, a vil- 
 lage east of the city, about one hour distant. This 
 summer William began writing a journal : 
 
 *' June 18, 1847. — Last Friday was my birth-day, and I 
 was eight years old. I received a ball, a little tract, two 
 cherries, and a pair of shoes ; these are the presents I re- 
 ceived." " Yesterday was Sunday ; we went to Sabbath- 
 school ; Mr. Lewis, the English chaplain, preached. His 
 text was in the Epistle to the Hebrews, 9th chapter, 
 27th verse. He preached about death in his sermon." 
 
 ''Last Monday we celebrated the 5th of July because 
 the 4th was Sunday. We got up early and went with 
 
20 
 
 Samuel Benjamin into the open fields and picked 
 flowers, and ornamented the rooms and the yard and 
 everywhere, and then waited for the Riggs and Ben- 
 jamins to come ; but they did not come after all, be- 
 cause they could not get donkeys. We celebrated it 
 by fighting the Revolutionary War, and pulling down 
 the statue of old King George, and then played all 
 sorts of things." 
 
 '' Last week Mr. Riggs received a letter from Mr. 
 Everett ; the news was that Mary Dwight has had a very 
 bad pain in her head. She died on Monday the 5th, 
 the very same day we were playing with all our might 
 and celebrating the 4th." " Mr. Benjamin comes out 
 to hear brother Fronty's Latin lessons, because papa 
 has gone to Aintab to preach the gospel." " Every 
 day we have a fine bath in cold water, and it is very 
 nice, I like it very much. Fronty is going to the city 
 with Mr. B. Yanni"^ has gone for the donkey. I shall 
 feel very lonely without him." 
 
 * Yanni was a Greek domestic who lived with us the greater part of 
 fifteen jears ; the children were much attached to him and he to them. 
 He was truthful and faithful. He could read a little, and improved rap- 
 idly : we read with him in the Armeno-Turkish Bible, and he in the Greco- 
 Turkish. He would ask Mr, Johnston many questions — wanted to know 
 if the Bible taught as his Church taught. At length he renounced many 
 of the ceremonies of the Greek Church ; said of the long fasts, Bosh— 
 empty. After we left he lived with Mr. Parsons, of Nicomedia, who 
 wrote us that Yanni gave evidence of being a true believer in Christ, and 
 
21 
 
 ''To-day is the day for the Austrian steamboat from 
 Constantinople; I expect a letter from Mrs. Brown. 
 We are very careful not to eat many grapes now, and 
 fruit, because the cholera is in Smyrna. I hope to see 
 brother Fronty's face to-morrow. We expect Frances 
 Benjamin here to-day, and I am going to town. I hope 
 God will keep Frances coming up here, and /going 
 down there, in safety. This morning, before prayers 
 or breakfast, Fronty painted his ship black. At noon 
 he made sixteen cannons for his brig of war yuliiis 
 CcEsar, Yanni brought three letters, two for me— one 
 from Mrs. Brown, and one from Charles P. Dwight." 
 " Aug. i8.— We have heard the cholera is in Erzroom ; 
 Dr. Smith will tell us all about it when he comes to 
 attend the annual meeting of the Mission, which is to 
 be at Smyrna." 
 
 Mrs. Brown says, May 2 : " I have just received your 
 letter of the 29th, in which you regret that our corre- 
 spondence is about to end ; I am happy to say that 
 that need not be, as we have given up all idea of going 
 to the United States this summer. I am pleased that 
 you are so fond of drawing; I will continue to send 
 you little sketches of mine. I had heard of the mutiny 
 on board the Ganges, and we were well content that 
 
 he wrote us himself that he felt the love of God in his heart. This was 
 cheering news. 
 
22 
 
 an overruling Providence had prevented our being in 
 her ; it is well it did not happen after they were out in 
 the Atlantic. You want to know what kind of an ani- 
 mal the gazelle is. It is like a very small deer, is of fawn- 
 color, with large, beautiful eyes, and can jump a yard 
 high — straight up. It used to follow Mrs. Brown about 
 the house like a child. Your little sister must be very 
 interesting, now that she is walking and learning to talk. 
 What would you take for her ? We have not one child 
 about our house. Let me know, and if you don't ask 
 too much I will try and buy her." 
 
 '' BOUJAH, July 23, 1847. 
 
 "Dear Papa: — We were all delighted with the 
 beautiful pressed flowers you sent us, and it was so 
 very kind in Baron Nishan to press them for us. Our 
 American cousins, uncles, and grandpa will be de- 
 lighted to see flowers from Gethsemane, and all the 
 places around Jerusalem. On brother F.'s birthday he 
 had given him the ' Memoir of Harlan Page,' five 
 piasters in gold, and eleven sugar-plums. On mamma's 
 birthday, the present she received was, our promise to 
 be good children. Now I will ask you some questions : 
 Who washes your clothes ? Who makes your bed ? 
 
23 
 
 Who cooks your breakfast, dinner, and supper? Do 
 you get grapes, figs, etc., at Aleppo? Tell Baron 
 Nishan we thank him very much for the pressed flow- 
 ers. I hope you will get to Aintab in safety. I am now 
 studying the History of the United States. 
 
 " Your affectionate son, 
 
 " William." 
 
 His father, on his way between Aleppo and Aintab, 
 going on a little before his company, was met by a 
 highway robber, who, pointing his gun at him, de- 
 manded his money. He spoke to him in Turkish, and 
 in some way engaged his attention till the company 
 appeared, when the robber fled. His young sons on 
 hearing this became alarmed, and seemed to think of 
 him only as facing the robber, or meeting some new 
 danger, and finally, after waiting long and anxiously to 
 see him, on going on board to' meet him, they could 
 hardly recognize him, so sunburnt was his face, and his 
 beard was so lone. 
 
24 
 
 '* December 9. — We are in town now. The house 
 has three fountains, and a terrace upon the top. To- 
 day, I am to draw a picture of the bark Niagara. 
 
 ''Mr. RIggs preached yesterday. His text was: 
 ' Arise ! shine, for thy light has come, and the glory of 
 the Lord is risen upon thee.' Isaiah xl. i. Brother 
 Henry Is very sick. I put my flag half-mast because 
 he is sick." " 12th. — H. is better. He expects Meta 
 Benjamin here at twelve o'clock to stay till half-past 
 four or five." 
 
 After the hot season had gone by and the cholera 
 subsided, he commenced study In earnest ; this year he 
 had some companions in his studies. 
 
 " I am now learning Latin with William Whitall. 
 Miss Howard ^^ teaches us. I am also learning French. 
 A French gentleman, Mr. Raziglo, Is our teacher. 
 Last Saturday we went to Narlee Kney. It is a Turk 
 
 * The late Mrs. William Wood, of the Mahratta Mission. 
 
25 
 
 ish name. Translated, it means the Village of Pome- 
 granates. Papa has gone to Tocat. He went first to 
 Constantinople, and then he expected to go to Sam- 
 soon, and then to Zilleh." 
 
 He was now allowed to walk in the street alone, and 
 began to do little jobs of work and thought himself 
 almost a man. 
 
 '* To-day I did not have any Latin to learn, but I had 
 French at noon. This afternoon we made a ship out 
 of boards, and put a mast and bowsprit in her and four 
 sails. F. and S. were the sailors and I was the captain. 
 Yesterday I went to the English Church with Miss 
 Watson. Mr. Walters preached about John the Bap- 
 tist. This morning I cut twenty-three sticks of wood 
 before breakfast, and during the day twenty-nine more. 
 This is a Greek holiday. All the flags are up. Papa, 
 F., S., and I, went to the point ; the large new mill 
 they are building was open. The French steamer came 
 at noon. The Queen Dowager is dead. I spinned my 
 top for half an hour, and then went to my lessons. At 
 sunset we went home with John Delacio ; from there 
 
26 
 
 Ave went to meeting. Very few attended. Mr. and 
 Mrs. Van Lennep were there. Yesterday was Sabbath. 
 Papa preached in the Dutch Chapel. We sang some 
 hymns after supper, and had prayers in Turkish." 
 
 The following note was written to his brother, then 
 in Athens, Greece : 
 
 "Sept. 30, 1850. 
 
 " Dear Brother : — I suppose you are in a Greek quar- 
 antine. Was the sea rough any? Is Athens a better 
 city than Smyrna? The Afton left on Sunday 
 morning. That pious Italian family which was here 
 embarked on her. There is no news by the French 
 steamer, except that Professor Webster is 'executed. 
 We have a letter for you from Mr. Parsons, but the 
 paper is too thick to send to Athens. The ships are 
 covered with signals. If it is King Otho's birthday, let 
 me know what parade they made there. This morning 
 we went to bathe ; I know how to swim now, though I 
 dare not go beyond my depth. Coming in we had up a 
 sail, with fair wind, and came home finely. There is a 
 
27 
 
 very strong Inbat-sea breeze ; I hope It will bring in some 
 American vessels. I study Greek now." 
 
 The boys of the Mission were now engaged getting 
 up small manuscript newspapers and circulating them. 
 William edited a newspaper, of which this is a specimen 
 copy: 
 
 SMYRNA STAR. 
 
 March, 1851. 
 
 "On Monday, the 17th, Messrs. Lawrence, Hosmer, 
 and Forsythe, who travel in company, rode out to 
 Bournabat on donkeys. The Doctor had a fall ; they 
 had hard work to keep from getting their legs jammed 
 against the wall. On Tuesday the nth, Mr. R. and 
 family, Mr. B.'s children, and the Editor, took a walk 
 near the Turkish quarter of the city. A party of Turk- 
 ish boys demanded money ; zve, refusing — at first they 
 took up big stones, and would probably have hurt us 
 had not Mr. R. given them money. We ^publish this 
 to show how uncivilized the Turks are. Our native 
 helper, Haji Aghasi, went inside the quarantine to see 
 
28 
 
 if his bride, whom he was expecting, had come, when 
 he was seized, and kept there five days. It is said he 
 tore his hair and cried like a child. It is not probable 
 he will go inside the quarantine lines again to look for 
 his bride." 
 
 "COMMUNICATION FOR THE SMYRNA STAR. 
 
 '' Mr. Editor : — I thought it might please your read- 
 ers to see the story of the escape of Mrs. Wagner and 
 Mrs. Kossuth from Austria. After the defeat of the 
 Hungarians, a reward of thirty thousand florins was 
 offered to any one who would show them where Mrs. 
 Kossuth was. Mrs. Wagner had been with the army, 
 her son being one of Kossuth's officers, to be near him 
 in case he should be wounded. After the treachery of 
 Gen. G., Mrs. Wagner narrowly escaped with her life, 
 and reached Gov. Kossuth with the other refugees in 
 Turkey. She then formed the resolution to go into 
 the heart of Hungary and try to rescue Mrs. Kossuth, 
 not knowing where she was. This she did at the risk 
 of her life, for a proclamation had been issued, that 
 whoever kept Mrs. Kossuth in their houses twenty-four 
 hours was guilty of a capital offense." 
 
29 
 
 " DOMESTIC NEWS. 
 
 '' On the 28th of last month we felt the shock of an 
 earthquake here. A concert of prayer was held Mon- 
 day the 3d, and the sum of 104 piasters, about five dol- 
 lars, was collected. This will be sent to Aintab. We 
 should be obliged to the editor of the Constantinopoli- 
 tan if he would give us more news concerning the af- 
 fairs going on in that city. Dr. Smith writes from 
 Diarbekir, that he has very often about fifty to attend 
 his meetings. It is a very promising station." 
 
 FOREIGN NEWS. 
 
 ''An exhibition of all the great inventions of all 
 nations is to be had this year in London. 
 
 '' The Austrians have forbidden the Hungarians to 
 go, or to bring anything to the exhibition. 
 
 '* The South Carolinians have decided in favor of 
 secession, and will probably separate from the United 
 States before long." 
 
30 
 
 ^'Thessalonica, July 20, 1852. 
 
 " My dear William : — Will you accept our thanks 
 for your interesting paper, and furnish us with a copy 
 at your convenience. We had an opportunity of com- 
 paring the Star with the Messenger. It bears the com- 
 parison well. We think the Star in the ascendant. 
 This I do not add to flatter you or at all depreciate 
 the excellent Messenger^ but to encourage you in your 
 enterprise. On the opposite leaf of this note is an 
 order for the pay — as I understand the terms — for six 
 
 months. 
 
 '* Yours, etc., 
 
 '' J. W. Parsons. 
 
 '' We like to receive your newspaper very much, and 
 wish you to consider us as subscribers for at least one 
 copy. And if your editions are large ones, we will take 
 two, and send them to some young friends in America." 
 
 Charles P. Dwight, son of the late Dr. H. G. O. 
 Dwight, early became a true follower of Christ, and 
 labored faithfully for the salvation of his young com- 
 panions. He says : 
 
 " Dear William :— It is some time since I wrote you, 
 
31 
 
 but I have had my hands full. The influenza entered 
 our family, and not one escaped. I have had house- 
 hold matters to look] after — besides, there is a demand 
 for my paper, which takes all my spare time to supply. 
 I believe you asked me in your last to write principally 
 upon religious subjects. I can assure you that this is no 
 hardship for me, if I can by the blessing of God be ena- 
 bled to do your soul good, even though it be as a grain 
 of mustard-seed. You speak of your inability of your- 
 self to keep good resolutions. But are you left to your- 
 self? Is there no way, nothing to help you ? Cannot 
 you trust God's promises to answer prayer? Oh, that 
 the arrows of conviction might sink deep into your 
 heart, until you can feel the joy of believing in Jesus." 
 *' Are you still in the same state of mind as you have 
 been for some time? Remember you cannot always re- 
 main in this state. The Holy Spirit will not always 
 parley with you. You know it is now an important 
 time with you. Warm weather is coming on, when all 
 sorts of distractions will strive hard with you — excur- 
 sions, travelers, etc. The warm months are always 
 very tempting, I have found, and you will find that 
 your heart will be much farther from religion than 
 in winter." *' January 19, 1852 — I am glad to hear your 
 paper has begun again ; I like that plan you told me of, 
 very much, of editing extra papers, and I have given 
 notice that such will be issued. Our Frontis-piece was 
 
32 
 
 drawn by an expert artist, with whom I presume you 
 are not unacquainted — Rev. H. J. Van Lennep. Henry 
 Goodell says, he is Fronty's agent ; and if you think it 
 well, and are not incommoded by it, will you please be 
 my agent ? But in these things, William, we must not 
 be too much taken up ; there is one greater and more 
 important theme, we should have all the time in our 
 minds — the salvation of our souls, and the glory of 
 God. If you do truly love the Saviour — what joy, 
 what love and peace, must fill your mind. How pleas- 
 ant to think of the time when we shall see him as he is, 
 and be enabled to adore and glorify him without the 
 clogs of the flesh. May the Lord make you one of his 
 chosen disciples, one of his great instruments in spread- 
 ing the blessed gospel. 
 
 "Charles P. DwiGHT." 
 
 '' From the Island of Scio, June 9, 1851. 
 
 '' Dear Willy : — From the top of our house we see 
 all the sea, the town, and a great deal of the country. 
 Oh ! you could think of nothing more beautiful than 
 Scio. The waves roll upon the beach as they did at 
 Trebizond. Rover, without anything being thrown, goes 
 into the sea, and dives and gets out stones. Do come 
 to Scio — do you hear — William ? Last Saturday, papa, 
 mamma, F., and M. went to a neighboring monastery to 
 
33 
 
 examine it. They saw blood on the walls which could 
 not be washed off, also human bones, and a monk, who 
 is a hundred and eighteen years old. In that monas- 
 tery several thousand people were burned by the Turks. 
 Next week I shall see you — nothing happening. Hope 
 Mr. Pengelly has not slipt us like all the other com- 
 pany. Have you yet seen Alfred Barker and Theodore 
 Walters? Should you see them before I come, please 
 give them my love. Excuse this scrawl, as I have no 
 table in my room. I have to write on my knee. I am 
 sorry to leave the Island, but shall be very glad to see 
 you. 
 
 ''S. G. W. B." 
 
 In May, 1851, his brother, Frontis, left for America. 
 This placed him as head man in the family — when his 
 father was absent. He made himself very useful, not 
 only in the family, but was often called upon to assist 
 friends or travelers in any little shopping or business 
 they wished to do in the city. His lessons, letter-writ- 
 ing, editorship, home work, out-door exercise, etc., 
 kept him very busy. 
 
 a 
 
34 
 
 '* BOURNABAT, July 5, 1852. 
 
 '' Saturday the 26th, at about four o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, some of the boys of the English school went to bathe 
 in the sea with their French teacher — Mr. J. Decours. 
 Mr. Decours was drowned. He probably had a fainting 
 fit, for he fell down under the water, but rose again and 
 called for help to one of the boys, who brought him a 
 life-preserver, but which the teacher was unable to hold. 
 The last words he uttered were, ma mere — my m.other. 
 He was very much attached to his scholars, and beloved 
 by all who knew him. He was from Switzerland, and 
 was between twenty-two and twenty-three years of 
 age. He has a widowed mother, of whom he was the 
 support, and the news of his death will be a great shock 
 to her. He was buried Sunday morning at Smyrna, in 
 the Dutch burying-ground. It was a very solemn funeral. 
 The whole school was there, and a great many young 
 people also. We hope that the sudden death of their 
 (teacher will be the means of doing good to his scholars." 
 
 ^' We have a very efficient pasha here now. The 
 banditti that infested the suburbs of the city are 
 not half so daring as they used to be. Lately, four 
 were beheaded and twenty-eight taken prisoners, and, 
 in token of the pasha's joy, a salute was fired from the 
 city battery." " The locusts have been very numerous 
 this summer, notwithstanding the quantity of okes* 
 
 * A Turkish weight.; nearly three pounds. 
 
35 
 
 which have been caught and buried. Two or three 
 days there were perfect clouds of them ; you could hear 
 the buzzing of their wings very distinctly. A great 
 many have fallen into the sea, and such numbers have 
 drifted ashore in the city, that it is feared some dis- 
 ease will arise." 
 
 The last summer William spent at Smyrna he wit- 
 nessed the great excitement occasioned by the seizure 
 of Martin Kosta, the Hungarian exile, by the Captain 
 of the Austrian brig of war Hussar. The United 
 States sloop of war St. Louis, Captain Ingraham, 
 had just arrived in the harbor of Smyrna. Kosta was 
 in chains on board the Hussar. Captain Ingraham 
 demanded his release, but the Austrian commander re- 
 fused to give him up. The two ships then prepared for 
 battle. The people of the city rushed to the shore to 
 witness the fight. William too was there, waving his lit- 
 tle American flag. He wrote a full account of the scene 
 in his senior year at college, the sequel of which is in 
 these words : 
 
36 
 
 " The Captain of the Hussar thought, at first, 
 he would fight, but he could see the Americans were 
 preparing to give him red-hot shell, and his heart 
 fainted within him. He sent to Captain Ingraham a 
 sulky message, telling him to come and get Kosta. 
 Captain Ingraham replied that, as they had taken Kos- 
 ta from the shore, they should take him back. The 
 Austrians may have thought this was adding insult to 
 injury; nevertheless, they still continued to think that 
 discretion was the better part of valor. At a little be- 
 fore four o'clock, P. M., July 2, 1853, Kosta, loosed from 
 his chains, was let down from the Hussar into a boat, 
 and rowed by six Austrian sailors to the landing-place 
 of the French Consul. Immediately two American 
 boats swept from the St. Louis, and flanked the boat 
 on either side. The band on board the St. Louis 
 struck up " Hail Columbia." Soon the three boats 
 reached the shore, where thousands on thousands were 
 gathered to welcome the rescued captive. As the Amer- 
 ican officers handed Kosta from the boat to the shore, 
 cheer after cheer went up from that great throng, such as 
 never before had fallen upon the city of Homer's birth ; 
 and some voices were English, and some French ; some 
 were Italian, and some Hungarian ; some were Greek, 
 and some American ; but they all joined in sounding 
 the praises of America." 
 
37 
 
 Rumors of the approaching Crimean war were now 
 spreading through the East. 
 
 FROM MRS. AZARIAH SMITH. 
 
 *'Orta Kney, Julys, 1853. 
 
 '' When I was coming through the Dardanelles I 
 passed the English and Turkish fleets just below the 
 mouth. After I arrived here I saw the Messenger, a 
 steamer which runs between the fleet and the palace of 
 the English Ambassador. Mr. Dwight told me it had 
 been up to the palace with dispatches, to inform the 
 Ambassador that the Russians had really entered the 
 Turkish provinces with their army, and to know if the 
 fleet should proceed to the Black Sea. It may be some 
 time before war will commence, even if they do not 
 conclude to make peace without it ; so you need not 
 make your home on the man-of-war at present. The 
 men who went to Smyrna with dispatches from Mr. 
 Brown to Captain Ingraham came back on the same 
 steamer on which I came up. The Americans here are 
 exulting at the success of the demand made on the 
 Austrians by the Americans. I hope, dear William, 
 that while your mind is so much filled with thoughts 
 
38 
 
 about war between men you will not forget to fight 
 with the foe which is found in your heart." 
 
 In the early part of 1853, his friend and correspond- 
 ent, Charles P. Dwight, was suddenly called away by 
 death ; this was a severe blow to William, and to all his 
 companions. One of them writes from Constantinople : 
 
 " O William ! You don't know how much we are 
 afflicted by Charles's death — it was so sudden — we 
 buried him a week ago. Yesterday was his birth-day, 
 and he and I were both anticipating our birth-days with 
 pleasure. I hope we shall all take this to heart." 
 
 " I am gloriously out of sorts," says a correspondent, 
 ** with the rascally Austrians, and very sorry another 
 opportunity has passed without chastising them. We 
 and everybody expect war between Russia, France, 
 England and Turkey. The Czar has ordered all the 
 Russian residents at London to leave immediately on 
 the breaking out of hostilities. The English and 
 French fleets will come up here, when a division of each 
 will go to the Black Sea. The Turks have some 40 
 
39 
 
 vessels at Buyukdere. The French fleet has 10,000 
 troops on board, and the English 8,000. All the Yan- 
 kee Constantinopolitans are invited by Mr. Brown to 
 Greek Siie — or the heavenly waters of Asia — to spend the 
 4th in a becoming manner. Mr. Brown will read the 
 Declaration of Independence, and an American gentle- 
 man, a member of the New York House of Represent- 
 atives, will deliver a speech." 
 
 NOTE FROM HIS GRANDPA JOHNSTON. 
 
 ''Near Newcastle, Tenn., June i, 1853. 
 
 " Altho' grandpa has never seen his grandson Wil- 
 liam, yet he loves him, and often thinks about him, and 
 prays for him that he may be a good boy, and give his 
 heart to God and learn to do his will. Grandpa has 
 become very hard of hearing ; has very little satisfac- 
 tion talking, cannot hear any preaching, and is 
 more than seventy years old Will William let his 
 grandpa have good reason to hope that he will meet 
 his grandson in heaven ? " 
 
 In the spring of 1853 his mother and eldest sister 
 sailed for the United States. William, with his father 
 and the younger children, remained until the autumn of 
 the same year, when they also embarked for America. 
 
40 
 
 "Bebeck, June 29, 1853. 
 
 " Dear Willie : — Many thanks for your letter. We 
 had a very busy time of it during the annual meeting. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Jewett were with us about a week. Our 
 house is very near Mr. Schaufflcr's; as we were just at 
 the window we heard them singing there. It sounded 
 sweetly. We were very pleasantly surprised to-day by 
 a visit from Baron Pedros." *' So you are going to Amer- 
 ica, and we shall not have you for neighbors any more, 
 either at Smyrna or Constantinople. Well, I do not 
 wonder you are glad, for I think I should be glad if we 
 were going. I hope among all your new friends, you 
 will not forget your old ones. I don't know whether I 
 told you about our Sabbath afternoons, which I enjoy 
 very much. We have a Bible-class at three o'clock at 
 Mr. Schauffler's. Then we older children have a meet- 
 ing by ourselves, and at five a Bible-class in Greek. 
 How glad I should be if we could see you once more 
 before you leave your Eastern home. When you get 
 to America, I hope you will tell how things seem to 
 you there, and all about your voyage. 
 
 *'E. R." 
 
 *' You are going to leave us," says a friend, '* and we are 
 all very sorry, but I suppose you are very happy to go 
 to that good land of your fathers, of which you have 
 
heard so much. I trust you will have the blessing of 
 the Lord in all your way, and be brought safely there. 
 I hope you will ever remember and pray earnestly for 
 his presence, for you know every enjoyment of this life 
 is worth very little without the blessing of God. If 
 you consecrate your early and best years to his service, 
 perhaps he will confer on you the privilege of, by and 
 by, forsaking parents, and brothers, and sisters, for his 
 sake, to promote his cause in some of the dark places 
 of the earth — perhaps, in the land of your birth. The 
 Lord bless you, and make you his on earth and in 
 Heaven." 
 
 On having Smyrna, William bade good-by to the 
 pleasant associations and scenes of his childhood. He 
 had already been quite a little voyager, having crossed 
 nearly the whole length of the Black Sea five times, 
 and the Marmora and Archipelago once. 
 
 VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 
 
 ** We came on board the bark Mimosa, Capt. King, 
 bound for Boston, on Monday evening, September 19, 
 1853. Our party consisted of Messrs. Stocking, Crane, 
 and Johnston, with their families ; in all, five adults and 
 
42 
 
 ten children. We beat out of the Gulf under a west- 
 erly breeze in company with a French bark, which we 
 beat all hollow. A breeze sprung up from the north, 
 which carried us along nicely. Soon Mitylene and 
 Psara were in sight. We passed the Dora Passage, and 
 in the morning St. George's Island and Greece were in 
 view. Sabbath, 25th. — Papa preached at ten o'clock — 
 the captain attended. At eleven o'clock, a hundred 
 vessels were in sight. Wednesday we had a severe 
 gale. In the afternoon papa had Sunday-school with 
 the children. 
 
 " October 2. — Sunday night we cleared Cape St. 
 Angelos ; in the morning, Cerigo, Candia, Cerregatta, 
 and other small islands were in sight. Thursday the 
 captain pointed out Malta on our starboard bow. 
 H. and I were confined to our berths pretty much 
 all day. Lizzie tumbled down the cabin stairs. The 
 captain complained of squalls below. He evidently 
 prefers squally weather to squally children. We have 
 very fine clear weather. 6th. — This morning com- 
 pletes two weeks of our passage, and we are not yet 
 half way across the Mediterranean. Cape Bon is in sight. 
 Nineteen days out ; Majorca and Minorca in sight. 
 Thursday we came in sight of Sicily ; we saw a few 
 fishing-boats, and one came quite near us. Wednesday 
 we were not crowded at table. The little ones keep 
 their center of gravity, now leaning to one, and now to 
 
43 
 
 the other side. I have made Willie Stocking a little 
 ship; it sails quite well in the cabin in rough weather. 
 Off Cape Palos: twenty-two days out. This morning 
 we put on a new foretop and maintop gallant sail, they 
 having split in the gale off Majorca. Yesterday after- 
 noon stood at the helm a quarter of an hour. The 
 coast of Spain is very high all around as far as we can 
 see." 
 
 Before leaving Smyrna a note was put into some- 
 one's keeping to be handed to him between Malta and 
 Gibraltar. 
 
 ** September 14. 
 
 *' By the time this reaches you, you will be far, far 
 away on the blue Mediterranean. It will be very hard 
 to think of you anywhere but in Smyrna. Are you 
 much sea-sick ? Do you read much on board ? Do you 
 keep a journal? I wonder whether you will see any 
 whales. I dare say you are very anxious to get to 
 America. Please give my love to M. and V. Good-by, 
 Willie. Don't forget your frlend."i| 
 
 *' De Gat, or Gata, in sight — so named from its re- 
 semblance to a cat. However, we do not perceive it. We 
 saw a good many huge black fish spouting up water." 
 
 '' We have, at last, passed the Cape de Gat, having 
 
44 
 
 been in sight of it for six days. 20th. — We hailed the 
 Dutch bark Antonita, and in the evening we were also 
 close up to the Race-Horse (of Boston). We are now 
 under two royals tacking back and forth along the 
 coast. Malaga in sight, with a light, half-filling breeze. 
 Yesterday we spoke the Race-Horse — Captain Searls. 
 We could talk very easily without a trumpet. We 
 saw Mrs. Searls and her little girl. Captain said 
 it was reported • that there was war. 24th. — Straits 
 of Gibraltar, opposite Tarifa. Sabbath, Mr. Stocking 
 preached, and papa had Sabbath-school with us in the 
 afternoon. We reached the Rock by two o'clock, and 
 lay to there, the captain not wishing to go in at night- 
 time. We had a good view of the. Rock. There are 
 batteries built on rocks all along the level of the water. 
 It seems truly formidable. About seven A. M. we 
 rounded the point, and the white houses of the pretty 
 village of Algerica shone brightly in the sun. Soon we 
 saw St. Roque's, and the City of Gibraltar. I picked 
 out two barks which I said were American. As we 
 entered, they hoisted their flags. They were the 
 Ouba of Beverly, and the Eiitaiv of Boston. Soon 
 after we anchored, the quarantine officers came along- 
 side ; also a man who brought us some fruit. We sent 
 our casks for water, and ordered provisions, which we 
 got at one o'clock. The captain gave the order-man 
 the windlass, and soon we were under weigh." 
 
45 
 
 The ship arrived in Boston the latter part of Novem- 
 ber. Though William was happy in the thought of com- 
 ing to America, on reaching here — like many a mission- 
 ary child — he felt a little "home-sick." Could he have 
 met some of his native friends in their own familiar cos- 
 tumes, or the Greek man, " Yanni," who for years had 
 been one of the household, or the hamal (porter) with 
 a basket of grapes on his back, or the old kappoogi 
 (door-keeper) in the court — could he have stood upon 
 the terrace, or mounted a donkey, or met a drove of 
 camels, or even have heard the babel of language in the 
 street, all this would have been so homelike. 
 
 After visiting with friends a few weeks, he was sent 
 with his brother to Bloomfield, New Jersey, to the school 
 for boys, in charge of Mr. Charles Davis. Although he 
 had not had the advantage of attending schools in the 
 East, he did not find much difficulty in maintaining his 
 stand in the different classes in which he was placed in 
 this school. He was presented by his teacher with a 
 copy of the " Standard Speaker," on taking the first prize 
 
46 
 
 in composition. At the close of the winter session, he 
 left Bloomfield for Salem, Massachusetts, where his 
 parents had sought a temporary home for the family. 
 Here he entered the Latin school for boys in charge of 
 Oliver Carlton, Esq., preparatory to entering college. 
 The two years and a half he spent in Salem were among 
 the happiest of his life. He found kind friends all around. 
 Besides having pleasant companions of his own age, he 
 became acquainted with some young men older than 
 himself, who were companionable and social, and their 
 influence over his young mind was very happy, salutary, 
 and Christian. The Sabbath-school he attended regu- 
 larly. The study of the word of God was a part of his 
 chief study. When he left the school, he received from 
 his teacher, Mr. John Dike, the *' Life of Calvin," as a 
 reward for committing to memory the Shorter Cate- 
 chism. His leisure hours were occupied in various ways. 
 He was newspaper carrier for a while. The cold, to which 
 he was not used, seemed too severe for this sort of work, 
 but he persevered in it for the season. In the spring 
 
47 
 
 of 1855, there being a small garden attached to the 
 house, he began raising vegetables. In this he suc- 
 ceeded so well, that one of his friends congratulated 
 himself on having had a splendid dinner on a dish of 
 fresh corn from Willie Johnston's garden. He found 
 also valuable friends among the ladies of Salem, who 
 were interested in him, and for him, aiding and 
 encouraging him in his work of preparing himself for 
 usefulness. One mother in Israel, was always doing him 
 good. She followed him through his college course 
 with her prayers, her good advice, and many kindnesses. 
 In July, 1856, he went with his brother F., who was 
 then at Salem, to New Haven, Connecticut, to pass the 
 required examination for entering Yale College. On 
 informing Mr. Carlton of his admittance into college, he 
 received the following note : 
 
 ''Salem, September i, 1856. 
 
 ** My dear William : — Your letter of the 19th ult. 
 was duly received, and I was glad to hear that you sue- 
 
48 
 
 ceeded so nicely in your examination. And now your 
 future success in college and in life will depend on your 
 own exertions. Diligence, perseverance, and correct 
 deportment will certainly secure it. I do not recom- 
 mend to you to engage in the strife for college honors, 
 but I do earnestly urge it upon you to form and main- 
 tain an unalterable resolution to be a good scholar — to 
 do your best always. 
 
 *' Yours, 
 
 " O. Carlton." 
 
 A friend writes : 
 
 *' I shall be quite anxious to hear of your prosperity 
 as a student, and my great desire is, that you may take 
 a high stand, and your character remain to the end of 
 college life untarnished by the slightest shade." 
 
 " The last time I heard from you " (says a Salem 
 friend) *' you were round among the lions. Have you 
 seen any yet? You should have been here last Sunday 
 to help your fellow ' basses,' and also to sustain the 
 reputation of the choir. The leader being absent, we 
 started off on our own hook. Nevertheless, the singing 
 was very good. One of the congregation said it was 
 ' tip-top.* You would like to have been with us at 
 
49 
 
 Pine Grove the other afternoon, at the choir's picnic. 
 There were about fifty in all. We had six pieces of 
 Gilmore's band. All marched in procession to supper, 
 headed by the band, in military style, ' left foot first,' 
 etc., etc. Some of the party rode home, while fifteen 
 or twenty of us walked, and had a nice sing on the 
 bridge. 
 
 " Charley W. was glad to hear that you had joined 
 the brothers in what is it ? " 
 
 He was seventeen years old a short time before he 
 entered college. He appeared boyish, and was very 
 original in his manner. 
 
 He was one of the speakers on the freshman prize 
 debate. One of his classmates remarked that one 
 great difficulty, while speaking, seemed to be as to 
 where he should keep his arms. They went every 
 which way, and Professor Silliman, Sen., one of the 
 umpires, shook his sides laughing. His prompter 
 could not keep the place, for in the excitement of 
 delivering his speech he did not follow the manuscript, 
 but launched out extemporaneously, suiting his ges- 
 
50 
 
 tures to the words as they occurred at the moment. 
 For this effort he received the third prize. His whole 
 course through college was marked by an unflinching 
 determination to accomplish what he undertook. In 
 working out his mathematical problems, when he 
 became tired of every other position, he would down 
 upon the floor full length, on his breast, and the 
 question was solved. 
 
 The summer vacations of 1858 and 1859 ^"^^ taught 
 a select school of twelve weeks each year, at North 
 Windham and Mansfield, Connecticut. This rendered 
 college duties very laborious, especially the latter part 
 of the fall term. 
 
 Aside from study, he took a part in almost every- 
 thing going on in college ; interesting himself in class 
 and college societies, writing, debating, etc., etc. It 
 was often a question at home whe7i Willie got his class 
 lessons. 
 
 It was interesting on presentation day to see the 
 
51 
 
 boys of '60, one hundred and eight in number, bid- 
 ding each other good-by. They thought they had 
 stout hearts, and the tear would not start, but with 
 many of them it did. And when in procession they 
 proceeded to the houses of the president and professors 
 to give the farewell cheer, friends were listening, were 
 looking on and querying : What will be the future 
 career of these young men ? Who of them will live 
 to good purpose and honor old Yale? Who of them 
 will live to no good purpose, a dishonor to their 
 class and Alma Mater? And who of them will soon 
 be called to die? Before their triennial meeting, four 
 of them were laid in the grave. 
 
 At the junior exhibition of his class he walked to 
 the stand arm in arm with one who, like himself, Avas 
 born in Turkey. They were near the same age, 
 James - being about three months older than William. 
 Their associations in childhood were similar. They 
 
 * Rev. James H. Schneider, Chaplain of the Second Regiment, U, S 
 Colored Troops. Died at Key West, Florida, April 25, 1864. 
 
52 
 
 were in the same class at college. Their love for each 
 other grew stronger and stronger. Their love for 
 country was one. They both died to save it. In a 
 moment they are not, for God took them. Their 
 immortal life, which they began so nearly together, we 
 cannot doubt will be one — one of unending peace and 
 joy and triumph. 
 
 It was not until his first year in college that he 
 expressed a decided hope in Christ. The winter of 
 1857, many of his fellow students were inquiring after 
 truth. He spoke of the interest some of his classmates 
 expressed in his spiritual welfare, "and remembered 
 them with gratitude. He was always a conscientious, 
 serious-minded, and a Bible-reading boy. Outwardly his 
 life was very much the same before as after his public 
 profession of faith in Christ. Whatever his state of 
 mind might have been before this, the necessity was 
 now laid upon him to come out from the world and 
 devote himself actively to the service of Christ. He 
 joined the college church, with other students, March, 
 
53 
 
 1858. Having finished his college course, he made a 
 trip on foot first to Mansfield, Connecticut, thence to 
 Rockville, Medway, Boston, Salem, Middleton, and 
 Andover, Massachusetts, walking thirty, and nearly 
 forty miles a day, visiting friends between the marches, 
 the distance from New Haven being about one hundred 
 and fifty miles. This was the last visit to these pleas- 
 ant friends. 
 
 On his return he called at Brookfield, Massachusetts, 
 to see the family of Mrs. Benjamin, his old Smyrna 
 friends, spending a day or two with them very pleas- 
 antly; he also bade them a final good-by. 
 
 After graduating, he again taught in Mansfield. On 
 arriving there, he says: '' I am boarding at Mr. William 
 Trumbull's. It is very quiet here. The house is only 
 a few steps from the school. I opened school Monday 
 with twenty-seven scholars, and am expecting more. 
 I was not well Monday and Tuesday. The mornings 
 and evenings are cool, and the noons are very hot." 
 
 In his pupils he interested himself, not only as a teach- 
 
54 
 
 er, but as a friend and companion, while in school hours 
 good discipline was enforced. At recess, he was often 
 with them upon the play-ground, doin^^ his best to out- 
 strip them in the race. He introduced debating, and 
 other societies, which furthered their improvement in 
 both writing and speaking, and on leaving, he still 
 kept up his interest in his friends, corresponding with 
 quite a number of them. The following extracts were 
 addressed to one of his pupils, a young boy toward 
 whom he cherished a warm attachment : 
 
 " In the first place, Fred,* how are you ? It is now 
 ten days since I left ; I have been getting this bundle 
 up at odd moments, and it has taken more length of 
 time than I thought it would. I have enjoyed gather- 
 ing together these books and pictures for my scholars 
 very much indeed. Some may call it a weakness, but I 
 like to take up the little mementoes of the scholars I 
 have, and to think over our studies, and our plays, our 
 meetings, our rides, and all. The picture I send you is 
 a first-rate view of Yale College buildings. There are 
 three buidings with spires or towers, as you see. The 
 
 * Frederic Barrows, of Mansfield, Connecticut. Now deceased. 
 
55 
 
 middle one is where I recite, and make daily exhibi- 
 tions of my ignorance, affording considerable amuse- 
 ment to my classmates. I console myself with the 
 thought that they couldn't calculate latitude through a 
 waterduct. I don't know as this picture will interest 
 you especially— take it, however, as an expression of 
 my wish to thank you for your good recitations, espe- 
 cially in Algebra, and for your last composition, which 
 pleased me very much. I hear from ' William the Critic,' 
 and others, that you voted to hang Brown. We did the 
 same in the ' Brothers,' by a majority of one. The 
 President, however, decided in favor of not hangino-. 
 Did that Coventry team come over to discuss the ques- 
 tion on Napoleon, the night after I left ? How does the 
 new debating society flourish? Doesn't it bring out 
 the older ones much more than before ? Did you take 
 any part in * Gamma Nu ' after I left? Don't you 
 study history now? " 
 
 FROM THE LATE REV. AUGUSTUS WALKER, OF 
 DIARBEKIR. 
 
 "Kharput, September 26, i860. 
 
 ** Now that you have graduated, I hope you ask 
 counsel of the Lord as to your future course, and will 
 be glad to do whatever he shall wish. This is the wise, 
 and this the safe, and this the happy course. Loving 
 
56 
 
 the Lord Jesus, you will delight to keep close to him, 
 so will you be greatly blessed, and what is even better, 
 in a world of probation — a great blessing. I was very 
 glad, dear William, to see your name in the papers as 
 a prize orator in the ' Brothers,' my own society, in my 
 own loved Alma Mater. You have seen Dr. Pratt, and 
 will soon see Mr. Marsh, and they will tell you all about 
 us. Mr. Dunmore was with us in Diarbekir only a few 
 months. Dr. and Mrs. Nutting now expect to return 
 to Diarbekir from Bitlis this fall. We came this spring 
 to Kharput to attend the annual meeting of the North 
 Armenian Mission." *' I could not help writing, to thank 
 you for your good letter, and to tell you how much we 
 love you." 
 
 William had now determined on making the preach- 
 ing of the Gospel of Christ the work of his life ; and soon 
 after the closing of his school at Mansfield, in Novem- 
 ber, i860, he went to Kentucky, and entered the Theo- 
 logical Seminary at Danville, in that State. On his 
 way South, he visited his grandfather Howe, at Gran- 
 ville, Ohio, who was eighty-nine years of age, and whom 
 he had not yet seen. On reaching Danville, he writes 
 to New Haven : 
 
57 
 
 "Jan. 3, 1861 
 
 " Dear Mother :— It seemed to me a long time 
 getting a letter from home; I suppose it is a sign 
 that I love you all. Christmas, I walked out to Paint 
 Lick, a distance of twenty-two miles. I had a splendid 
 time, riding, walking, singing, etc. Danville is quite a 
 pretty place of about five thousand inhabitants, and has 
 besides the seminary, a college, two large girls' board- 
 ing schools, and many minor institutions of learning. 
 I have enjoyed very fine health, and am very glad I 
 came here when I did. I am glad I visited Granville, 
 Ohio ; it was a great treat to talk with grandpa. I 
 will give your exhortation, 'don't smoke,' a calm, un- 
 impassioned, respectful, dignified, and profound con- 
 sideration." 
 
 To his eldest sister, he says: 
 
 " I wish you a merry Christmas this morning. I have 
 been getting along nicely since I last wrote. I am 
 rooming and boarding at Dr. Green's. I have a sopho- 
 more for a room-mate, and am pitching into Hebrew 
 like a good fellow. About seven o'clock every morn- 
 ing a coal-black maiden of fifteen summers rings the 
 bell for us to get up ; Frank, another piece of shining 
 ebony, makes the fire in our stove. About half-past 
 seven we have breakfast, and right after, prayers, at 
 
58 
 
 which some of the servants always attend. I go down 
 to the seminary at half-past eight, and stay right 
 through till twelve o'clock. I generally read and write 
 in the afternoon, and study in the evening. We have 
 four professors and forty students. One of the students 
 was a class-mate of brother F. He is from South 
 Carolina, but is a strong Unionist." 
 
 To a younger sister : 
 
 *' This is your birthday ; I cannot send you a present, 
 as you are so far away, but I will write to let you know 
 that my heart is full of fraternal affection and brotherly 
 love. Be a good girl ; continue to improve in every- 
 thing, and remember that as your years come quickly 
 on, your last will soon be here. Think of good things, 
 find out what it is to repent and believe, and then, V., 
 do it with God's help." 
 
 His letters from this time are largely taken up with 
 the threatening condition of the country. They reveal 
 at once the intense interest he felt for its welfare, and 
 the working of his own mind, as to what was his duty 
 in the crisis. 
 
59 
 
 From his grandfather : 
 
 December, i860. 
 
 ''The famine is very sore in Kansas, and there is 
 much suffering. This county has sent them reUef Is 
 anything done for these poor sufferers in your State? " 
 " What shall be done in this distressing Secession move- 
 ment ? Is Kentucky doing anything to encourage it? 
 We hope not ; we love that heroic, noble people too 
 well to spare them from our beloved Union. Is not 
 the whole of it a sad, unjustifiable movement? Let us 
 all do our duty the best we can, and if possible save our 
 guilty nation from disgrace and ruin. How are you 
 pleased with your situation — your studies, the society, 
 and everything that relates to your happiness. It is no 
 trifling matter to be confined to the study of books for 
 many years, but I hope you will come out in the end 
 as bright as the morning." 
 
 Reply to his grandpa : 
 
 •* I received your kind letter three weeks ago. I am 
 sorry the accounts from Kansas are so distressing. The 
 two Presbyterian churches in this place sent a little 
 over a hundred dollars in cash, besides four boxes of 
 clothing, to Kansas. I thought this was doing pretty 
 well for these hard times. I take the Cincinnati Cojn- 
 
6o 
 
 mercial ; I don't like its anti-coercion talk, though I 
 hope for an amicable adjustment in the Union. I heard 
 from father this morning ; he is well, and thinks Missis- 
 sippi will come back. I am well, and well contented 
 with everybody but the Seceders. I talk so much 
 against them, I am called an Abolitionist. I received 
 the * Principia.' Can you send more?" 
 
 About this time he heard of the death of his well- 
 beloved pupil and correspondent, Frederic Barrows, 
 whom we have mentioned. He died very suddenly on 
 the 9th December, i860, at Suffield, Mass., whither he 
 had gone to pursue his studies. His teacher's sorrow 
 on hearing of his death, is expressed in the following 
 letter to the mother of the deceased : 
 
 "Danville, Ky., January i, 1861. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Barrows : — It is the first morn- 
 ing of the new year, and the sun is shining as kindly 
 and with as much promise as ever it shone on the many 
 bright days of the old year, which, with all its pleasure 
 and all its sadness, has now gone forever. Two weeks 
 
6i 
 
 ago, to-day, I heard, at once, of the sickness, the death, 
 and the burial of your son, Frederic. Can you excuse 
 the Hberty I take of writing to you on this solemn oc- 
 casion? — a liberty, which would at any time be great, 
 but especially so now, when an intrusive letter may 
 cause those wounds to bleed again, which time is gently 
 healing. 
 
 " After I arrived here I made out a list of persons to 
 whom I intended writing when I found time. It com- 
 menced thus: Dwight, Fred, Arthur, etc. I have writ- 
 ten to Dwight but I cannot write to Fred; yet I feel as 
 if I could not pass his name by, and knowing that it 
 will do me good, I trust that you will accept in kind- 
 ness this expression of his teacher's feelings. I write 
 not to console, or to soothe ; for were I able, that sa- 
 cred duty belongs to others nearer you. I write simply 
 to tell you I too loved Fred. Since I heard of his death 
 almost every incident of my pleasant acquaintance with 
 him has passed and repassed in my mind. You know 
 that beside my connection with Frederic as his teacher, 
 I was with him very much as a companion ; I was more 
 intimate with him in both these relations than with 
 most of my scholars. I cannot but mourn for myself 
 that I can no more enjoy my friendly intercourse with 
 him ; the hopes I loved to cherish of once more meet- 
 ing in old Mansfield, our dear school circle unbroken 
 still. Yet I shall always be glad that I knew Fred. I 
 
62 
 
 shall always think of him with mournful pleasure. As 
 a scholar, I admired him. He loved his lessons, and 
 was diligent in them. He was able to master any 
 study, and in one branch was extremely promising. In 
 his deportment, although when with me under circum- 
 stances which were a temptation to his natural playful- 
 ness, he was all that I could ask. Out of school I often 
 noticed in our talks his inquiring mind, and his anxiety 
 to learn everything that was practically useful. As a 
 friend he was always agreeable, kind and obliging; many 
 were the acts of kindness he performed for me. I never 
 had a direct conversation with Fred on the subject of 
 religion; I wish very much that I had; it would have 
 been so pleasant to think of. But Fred was a good, 
 conscientious boy. I always found that the strongest 
 motive that I could bring to bear on him was an appeal 
 to the right. They tell me, Mrs. Barrows, that Fred is 
 dead ; I cannot realize it. I take out his picture and 
 gaze at it ; there are the same features which I have so 
 often seen, but always, whether in puzzling study, in 
 earnest thought, in hard work or sportive play, lighted 
 up with life and animation. How vivid yet are the closing 
 scenes of school ! My last visit at your house — the ex- 
 amination — the composition — my ride with him to 
 Willimantic — our conversations about Sufifield ! It was 
 he whose hand I shook last of all my scholars ; to him 
 I bid the last good-by ; a cheerful good-by — for our 
 
63 
 
 hearts were full of hopes ; but alas ! those hopes were 
 human. I think of all these things and look at his pic- 
 ture, and think and look again, but I cannot, I cannot 
 make him dead ! Yet, I suppose it is a reality ; a soul, 
 a spirit that lived among us, with whom we laughed and 
 talked and prayed—has gone." '' Frederic's death has 
 come nearer to me than any other. God in mercy has 
 not taken away from me either father or mother, or 
 brother or sister. I never yet have stood beside a 
 death-bed. But now death has broken a circle of 
 scholars whom I loved, and of whom I was proud. 
 One has been taken away who, like me, was full of 
 ardent hope ; one who differed from me only in this, 
 that apparently I was a few years nearer to my grave 
 than he to his. But he has gone first ; how soon am I 
 to follow ? I am very glad I can believe that in all our 
 intercourse with him there never passed between us an 
 act, or a word, or a thought, I trust, prompted by anger 
 or impatience. I am glad there is so much that I can 
 think of with subdued yet unalloyed pleasure ; yet, 
 there are things for which, could I see him now, I would 
 ask his forgiveness. I confess them to you. Had I 
 known last fall that in one short month Fred was to die, 
 how differently I would have acted— how much kinder 
 my kindness would have been ! How much more faith- 
 ful I would have been as a Christian brother! He is 
 now beyond the reach, and beyond the need of earthly 
 
64 
 
 counsel ; and though he sung not on earth with us, is 
 now singing songs of praise and glory such as only 
 angel lips can sing. God grant that the solemn lesson 
 may not pass by unlearned by us who are left. Tell 
 each one of Frederic's schoolmates for me, so to live, 
 and so to act towards every other, as if the next short 
 month would see that companion in the grave. I hope 
 and pray that this warning, coming as it does at the 
 commencement of my studies for the ministry, may be 
 blessed to my good. I need strength, wisdom, and 
 grace from on high. May I not ask you, now that 
 another cord connects you with heaven, now that you 
 are drawn still nearer to the throne of grace, to remember 
 me sometimes in your fervent prayers ? It gives me a 
 deep and sacred pleasure to add to those of all who 
 knew him, my tribute of affection to the memory of 
 your son ; and that, though I am far away, still I can- 
 not forget him, but must mourn in your mourning and 
 grieve in your grief." 
 
 His brother F.,* now pastor of the Presbyterian 
 church, Lexington, North Carolina, writes: 
 
 ''January 22, i86i. — I have read within a few days 
 past Dr. Breckinridge's sermon on the ' Crisis.' I agree 
 
 * This brother was chaplain for a season to a regiment in the Southern 
 army before Richmond. 
 
65 
 
 Tvith him on the subject of secession, and I think his 
 argument indisputable. The old North State moves 
 slowly. The secessionists are doing their best to stir 
 her up, but it's no go yet. If, however, the black re- 
 publicans don't come to reasonable terms she will let 
 her voice be heard some way-I can't say what. At 
 all events the State will follow in the wake of Virginia 
 and she can't well do anything else, her interest and' 
 destiny being linked to the Old Dominion. A majority 
 of our people have no idea being coerced into measures 
 by South Carolina, any more than by the general gov- 
 ernment The feeling in some quarters is quite bftter 
 toward South Carolina. It would not be long before 
 she would be again kicking out of her harness 
 and carrying her sovereign head higher still The 
 Secession feeling, though, is gaining strength, and if 
 something is not done toward eiTective conciliation by 
 the party in power before the fourth of March, even 
 North Carolina will probably set up for herself. Yes 
 and you'll see Kentucky cutting loose also. For my- 
 self I am anxious to see the slavery question forever 
 settled now, but I want it done in the proper way We 
 are in a bog, floundering helplessly; we are a sinful 
 nation, and deserve to be chastised sorely. As thin-s 
 stand now, if we are spared a civil war it will be a mfr- 
 acle of mercy." 
 
66 
 
 TO WILLIAM TRUMBULL, Esq., OF MANSFIELD, CONN. 
 
 " My journey hither was a very pleasant one, I spent 
 Thanksgiving week as I intended, with my relations in 
 Granville, Ohio. I had never seen many relatives be- 
 fore, and it is quite a treat to get among so many cousins 
 at once. I was rubbed pretty hard for my political sen- 
 timents, by the older folks ; and you will not wonder at 
 it, when I tell you that their Abolitionism is of such an 
 extra fine extract, that they think the Neza York Tribune 
 is rather pro-slavery, and the Independent very conser- 
 vative." '' As all arrangements had been made I en- 
 tered the seminary and went to studying at once, of 
 which there was great need, as I was considerably be- 
 hindhand, especially in Hebrew. I have now caught 
 up with the class, and I like translating the old testa- 
 ment Hebrew better than any other study. I am be- 
 ginning to be very much interested in my theological 
 studies, and I begin to feel, too, what a responsibility 
 will rest on me, and is resting on me now while engaged 
 in studying God's word. I often think how I would 
 like to talk over many points which come up in the 
 course of my studies with you. I have often asked you 
 to pray for me^ but lately — since Fred's death — I have 
 felt the need of the efficacy of the prayers of earnest 
 Christian friends more than ever." '' Public opinion, 
 in Danville and vicinity, is strongly opposed to seces- 
 sion. But Danville, I think, is ahead of the State in 
 
67 
 
 this patriotic feeling. I agree with you, probably, in 
 supposing that the whole secession movement is a wild, 
 reckless, destructive proceeding. I do not myself think 
 the slave States ought to ask for any guaranties, or 
 make any fuss about the Republicans coming into 
 power. But we have now to deal with facts. A major- 
 ity of the people of several of the slave States, wrongly, 
 but sincerely think that in staying in a nation con- 
 trolled by a party which says to the slave States, ' we will 
 not suffer you to have advantages which we have — of 
 impressing our form of social government in new States ; 
 we will cripple you by every means in our power* — they 
 are submitting to their own degradation, and are invit- 
 ing future aggression. They therefore leave, and are 
 preparing for war. The people of the other slave States, 
 though otherwise extremely anxious to abide in the 
 Union, think that if this party really means to carry out 
 its declarations to the letter, then, it would be dishonor- 
 able for them to remain in the Union, even if a long 
 bloody war follows. Believing this to be the case, I see 
 but two alternatives, unless some compromise is effected, 
 — war, or a peaceful recognition of the independence of 
 the Southern States. The latter, I would consider a 
 more humiliating sacrifice of the fundamental principle 
 of our government, and more dangerous to our safety 
 than any the Republicans are now asked to make. War 
 I do not consider the worst evil that can befall us ; yet 
 
68 
 
 under present circumstances, who can contemplate it 
 without horror? I believe the spirit of compromise is 
 as important as any ; without it our government could 
 never have been formed or preserved till now. The 
 spirit of concession is a Christian and a blessed princi- 
 ple." "The Cotton States have adopted a bullying 
 tone, but the other States have not. They ask it kindly. 
 I will tell you my ideas of the practical workings of 
 slavery, as I see it, some other time. Read Thorn- 
 well's article in the New York Observer^ February 14th, 
 if you want to get at what they think in Cottondom." 
 
 He says to a friend : 
 
 " I don't like to hear you speak of the * Haughty 
 Southerners,' or of not yielding an inch. The mass of 
 the South are honest in feeling that they have been 
 wronged. If you knew just how the South feels, I am 
 sure you would yield many an inch for the sake of 
 peace. Besides, the point is vital to the South, but not 
 to the North." " War — war — war is the cry, and every 
 throb of the telegraphic wire is bringing us terrible 
 news from many parts of our beloved land. The 
 only danger at present in Kentucky is from mob 
 fight. For instance there is in Danville an association 
 of over 200 working men who are pledged to support 
 the Union. They raised the stars and stripes here, and 
 
69 
 
 have sworn that it shall never be taken down by seces- 
 sionists, even if Kentucky secedes. In the college there 
 are many young men from the extreme South, and the 
 feeling of the whole college, especially since Lincoln's 
 proclamation, has been ^;z//-Northern. We came very 
 near having a raid last night between these two classes, 
 but I hope no blood will be shed. I must say that the 
 news of the last few days has excited me almost beyond 
 endurance. I can't bear to hear the students exulting 
 over the downfall of Sumter, and the insults to our 
 country's flag. I tell you, it would not take much to 
 make me enlist as a soldier, although my position and 
 circumstances almost forbid my thinking of it seriously, 
 yet if by my going I could raise a regiment of Ken- 
 tuckians, who otherwise would not go, I would not hesi- 
 tate a moment." 
 
 '*It is wholly impossible for me to get a letter 
 South. Have not heard a word from father or F. I 
 am studying pretty hard. This with teaching for 
 my board confines me pretty closely. The weather 
 is beautiful. No fire, window open, very pleasant. 
 There are about fifty sick soldiers here ; many regiments 
 have passed through. In the family where I am board- 
 ing there are about ten colored brethren and sisters ; 
 when the troops go by, they go out and shout for 
 * Linkum.' " ** While all nature is so joyful and peace- 
 ful, how dreadful and violent are the emotions and com- 
 
70 
 
 motions of our countrymen. The storm is furious, and 
 as yet it has only begun to rage ; yet I see hope, and in all 
 my mourning will not despond. Pray for our country." 
 
 " May 4th. To-day is election-day. It is virtually 
 a vote on Secession or no Secession. A few days ago, 
 the secessionsts withdrew their ticket from the field, on 
 the plea that since Virginia has seceded, no such con- 
 vention would be held ; but undoubtedly their real 
 reason was, because they knew they would be whipped, 
 and the hope that as there is no competition, the vote 
 will be small, and then they will claim that all who 
 didn't vote are Secessionists. But the Union men are 
 on their guard, and cannot be oiit-witted or overawed^ 
 as they have been in every seceded State so far ; espe- 
 cially in poor old Virginia. The Union men are all op- 
 posed to Secession utterly and forever, but I am sorry 
 to say that some of them are not as hearty or loyal in 
 their support of the general government, as they ought 
 to be, and are now talking of an armed neutrality, 
 which means — that they will not fight on either side, 
 and prevent, as far as they can, troops of either side 
 coming on their soil. This policy, I think, is more one 
 of the politicians than of the people ; and I earnest- 
 ly hope it will not prevail. The only excuse for it is, 
 that it is extremely hard for Kentuckians to take up 
 arms against their Southern brethren, although their 
 
71 
 
 judgment pronounces against them. The State offi- 
 cials are bad men ; some of the politicians are not as 
 sound as they ought to be, and both together have put 
 old Kentucky in a false, unloyal position. But a major- 
 ity of the people are sound to the core. Already 
 two thousand Kentucky volunteers are organized into 
 regiments, and soon the full number of troops will be 
 made up for which Lincoln called, despite the refusal 
 of the Governor." 
 
 ** This dreadful war news has knocked my calculations 
 for the vacation sky-high. Got a letter from F. ; he has 
 been, as all of North Carolina, driven into Secession ! 
 Egyptian darkness reigns in Mississippi. I wrote to pa, 
 urging him to come north ; I am afraid we shall not see 
 him." 
 
 His father, at the time the war commenced, was 
 agent of the American Bible Society for Northern Mis- 
 sissippi. He resigned his agency, but remained in that 
 State, supporting the disunion movement. William 
 could not understand why his father should take this 
 course — and writes: *' I cannot believe, pa, that you 
 believe either in the right or expediency of Seces- 
 sion. Have I not heard you commend Jackson's course 
 
72 
 
 in 1832 and 1833 ? Did you not tell us that you con- 
 sidered Calhoun's death in 1850 a providential inter- 
 ference to preserve the Union? Why do you now wish 
 for the downfall of that beautiful flag, under the protec- 
 tion of which we have so long dwelt in safety in foreign 
 lands, and looked up to with such pride".? 
 
 To his brother H. : 
 
 " Governor McGoffin, and through him the State 
 Militia, of which he has control, are thoroughly, 
 though not openly, Secessionists. The Legislature is 
 about half-and-half. It is possible that by foul means 
 the State may yet be declared out of the Union. In 
 view of this, the Union men are organized all over the 
 State, and getting arms, which is a difficult thing just 
 now. The Paint Lick * Catamounts,' to which I be- 
 long, are going to get arms from the United States Gov- 
 ernment. If there is war in Kentucky we will be liable 
 to be called out. I do not think moderation and 
 attempts to compromise have done any harm ; on the 
 contrary, they now justify and strengthen the cause of 
 the Union, wonderfully, when finally the war is forced 
 upon us ; now I say, make it the biggest, most deter- 
 mined war possible, and don't rest till the laws are en- 
 
73 
 
 forced everywhere. In this County-guard, there are 
 one Secessionist, twenty-five wavering Union men, 
 and one thousand two hundred and ninety-eight Union 
 to the last. Love to the Doctor, Joe Daniels, and all 
 classmates. Has Jim Schneider been in New Haven?" 
 
 Nothing except his love for the whole country could 
 exceed the interest he felt in the state of affairs in Ken- 
 tucky. He watched very closely every movement of 
 her civil and political, as well as military leaders. He 
 had no native State to love and glory in, above another 
 — but for some reason he seemed to adopt old Ken- 
 tucky for his State. He said long ago, when he had 
 finished his education, he was going to Kentucky to 
 help free the slaves, and this was the very last work he 
 did. But, at that time, how very far from his thoughts 
 was the way in which this work was to be done ! He 
 fought to save his country — not necessarily to free the 
 slaves. In twenty-eight days after his death, the slave 
 was free. He was born in a land of oppression — where 
 young boys were forced into the army, and fought and 
 
74 
 
 died to uphold oppressive governments. The noble 
 principle of love for country and liberty could not in- 
 fluence them, for they had no country to love, and were 
 strangers to freedom and justice. Even now, they are 
 suffering — fighting and dying, and their mothers are 
 weeping, and hoping for their return ; but many — very 
 many of them will never hear from them again. He 
 heard Yanni tell of the cruelties inflicted upon his 
 countrymen in the time of the Greek Revolution, 
 when for a Greek to meet a Turk was to meet his 
 death. 
 
 *' Yesterday we had quite a turn-out for our small 
 village — Paint Lick — to witness our company drill, 
 and to hear political speeches. There were about 
 one hundred and twenty-five men in the company, 
 of whom I was one. At the close, a vote was taken 
 for the Union, as it is. All stood up but five or 
 six. When the vote was taken for secession, one man 
 rose up, but sat down before he could be counted. All 
 this eastern part of the State is as strong as this meet- 
 ing was. Yet the Governor, with a small but powerful 
 clique, is bent on having Kentucky secede, in which 
 
75 
 
 case there will be civil war in the State, and I shall 
 fight for the stars and stripes, which our company is 
 pledged to do." 
 
 ''June I. — Kentucky's position is rather critical, 
 though not so much so as it has been. If the Governor 
 had been able, by hook or crook, to get the least pretext 
 on which to act, he was prepared to declare the State out 
 of the Union, post his armed men in every town of the 
 State, call in troops from the southern States, and bind 
 the defenseless Union men hand and foot, and if any 
 dared to resist, to convict them of treason to the State, 
 and hang or drive them out, just as is the case to-day 
 in Tennessee. Thanks to our Legislature, the Gov- 
 ernor has been disconcerted for the present, but it has 
 been a close shave, for the change of a few votes would 
 have effected the ruinous schemes of the disunionists. 
 The people have been terribly alarmed. There could 
 be no united action among them, as any proceeding 
 that was not strictly legal would be made a pretext by 
 the Governor ; but now we are receiving arms gratis. 
 I have got a good United States musket, with bayonet 
 and ammunition. I think this decisive movement 
 will be the death of secession in the State, and with 
 sixty thousand troops along the Ohio, I guess the 
 seceders won't touch us. So you needn't fear for me, 
 * specially.' " 
 
1(> 
 
 *' Since I came to Paint Lick 1 have not done 
 much ; I read considerably, but not much theology. I 
 have been cutting up a tree which blew down in uncle's 
 yard. The trunk is six feet around, and pretty hard to 
 split. I also do some garden work, among the flowers 
 or vegetables, or in gathering or capping strawberries. 
 I am at present installed as teacher of Cousin Arthur, 
 and preach occasionally to the blacks. My opinion con- 
 cerning them is not altered in the least by coming 
 here." 
 
 "June II, 1861. — To-day is my birthday, and I am 
 twenty-two years old. I can hardly realize it, but I 
 ought by this time to be a man. I must say I don't 
 feel so. Here I am, romping all over the premises, 
 with my cousins, and galloping all over the country, 
 managing to cast off care, and I scarcely know whence 
 next month's bread is to come. One's birthday is a 
 good time for reflection. I feel that this year will be 
 the turning point of my life — the passing from youth to 
 manhood — for, by my next birthday I hope to be earn- 
 estly engaged in preaching the gospel of the living 
 God. God grant that I may be equal to such a duty 
 and such a privilege." 
 
 '^ July 3. 
 '* My DEAR Joe: — I have preached several times in 
 backwoods school-houses, to small audiences, and two 
 
17 
 
 or three times to the blacks. I received a rather dubi- 
 ous compliment from a regular 'Uncle Tom,' an elder 
 among the blacks : ' Young Massa preach pretty well for 
 de little learnin' he's got/ I have made some stump 
 speeches to admiring audiences, around in the country. 
 It's real fun. The Union sentiment is tremendous. 
 They want all the traitors hung, and the conspiracy 
 crushed without mercy. Kentucky will never secede, 
 though McGofifin and his satellites may cut up a little 
 like Jackson in Missouri. The neutrality talk is all hum- 
 bug. It was first advanced by timorous Union politicians, 
 but has since been taken up by the secessionists as their 
 rallying cry. But the people are, and always will be, 
 distinctly divided into Unionists and Secessionists." 
 
 In July, of 1861, he rather unexpectedly made up his 
 mind to return North and teach again one term in 
 Mansfield, before the coming winter session of the sem- 
 inary should commence: 
 
 '* I am going to teach in Mansfield Center, as usual. 
 I leave uncle's next Wednesday, July loth ; will visit 
 John Beckley (one of his classmates), at Shelbyville. I 
 expect to be in Granville, Ohio, the i6th, and leave 
 there Monday, the 22d. I shall try to be at home 
 
78 , 
 
 Wednesday evening, about nine o'clock, on the 24th, in 
 order to be at commencement." 
 
 He accomplished this trip throughout just as he had 
 so hurriedly planned it at Paint Lick, calling at and 
 leaving each place, and reaching home at the hour 
 appointed. Of his visits on the way, he says : 
 
 ** I had a pleasant time at Mr. Dandy's in Lexington. 
 I rode around the city, and visited Henry Clay's mon- 
 ument. At Shelbyville, ' Beck ' took me around to see 
 several of his lady friends. On Saturday there was a 
 picnic : about fifty ladies and as many gentlemen were 
 there. Union sentiment in Shelbyville is very strong. 
 Monday I left for Louisville, and arrived there at half- 
 past ten. At noon went on board the steamer Major 
 Anderson. The ride up the Ohio was pleasant. Tues- 
 day, at Cincinnati, took the cars for Granville. Grandpa 
 met me with a buggy at Union Station, and soon I had 
 the pleasure of meeting Aunts L. and B., Cousin M., 
 and little Con. The little fellow is just the same as 
 ever. I had scarcely been in the house an hour before 
 he commenced striking me with a little horsewhip. I 
 took hold of it and held it ; he tugged away at it, and 
 finally began to cry. I said, * You can't have that, sir.' 
 
79 
 
 He then changed his tactics, and putting his face up to 
 mine, said, 'Thank 'oo illie kiss.' The little rogue got 
 the whip immediately. Have you heard any news yet ? 
 /have. Isn't it good?" 
 
 He attended commencement, spent a few days at 
 home, and then went to Mansfield. 
 
 '' I have but fifteen scholars ; expect half a dozen 
 more in about two weeks. We play as much as usual 
 at recess. I miss Fred very much ; I have been to his 
 grave, and can hardly realize that he is there under the 
 cold, cold ground." 
 
 His grandfather says of his recent visit there : 
 
 " William will tell you how he raked hay with grand- 
 father; and let me tell you, that I think him as good a 
 scholar in the hay-field as in literary science or in 
 theology." 
 
 Aunt L. says : 
 
 ''We have had a precious visit with William. How 
 I love to hear him talk ! May his life be spared and 
 his usefulness be great in the earth." 
 
8o 
 
 Writes his cousin : 
 
 '* There is quite a large camp collecting on the Lex- 
 ington turnpike, at Hoskins. Cousin S. Fry is there 
 with a number of troops ; and Judge Bramlette has re- 
 signed his judgeship and is making up a regiment of 
 cavalry, and will soon be there. Before the election, 
 there were two or three secession pic-nics, and they 
 seemed to be making great efforts to rally their party, 
 but in spite of all, the Union has gained a great victory. 
 We got a staff for that flag you gave me, and planted 
 it in Grapevine Grove. Everybody we meet asks, 
 When did you hear from Billy Johnston ? " 
 
 He was over-fond of what might be called immoder- 
 ate exercise ; and was often admonished that a more 
 prudent course would be healthier and safer. If swim- 
 ming, he would disappear under water, till all with 
 him were alarmed ; or swim across the Hudson River, 
 as he did near the '' Palisades." At the cave where Put- 
 nam killed the wolf, he pushed in, ploughing his way 
 with his elbows. At Niagara Falls, he would go on 
 and on, over precipices, to the great uneasiness of those 
 who accompanied him. 
 
8i 
 
 To one of his pupils he says : 
 
 ''As to racing with you on the ice, I should not pro- 
 pose it myself, but if you got me into it, I shouldn't 
 want to give in, if — I could help it. Important ' if.' 
 When I was in Elizabeth, I skated considerably — that 
 is, after a fashion. I spread out my capabihties to the 
 utmost, but spread myself on the ice with true hero- 
 ism." " I went to N. Windham last night, and ran 
 back this morning, from Mr. Peck's gate to Mr. Trum- 
 bull's, nearly three miles, in twenty-six minutes. I am 
 practicing for the war ; if matters get much worse in 
 Kentucky, I shall enlist when I get through school." 
 
 '' Sister and myself," writes a little friend to him, "are 
 very much obliged to you for the music. Pa and 
 Aunt Mary went down to Camp Robinson and took 
 us children with them. Yesterday ninety men passed 
 here in a very hard rain, going to camp, and ninety more 
 are coming to Paint Lick to-night, and are going to sleep 
 in the school-house. Mr. S. went round getting the 
 neighbors to send them something to eat. All sent 
 
 very cheerfully, except your friend, Mr. ; he 
 
 would not send a thing." 
 
82 
 
 From his war correspondent in Kentucky : 
 
 ''September 17, 1861. 
 
 "You have, no doubt, seen the recent action of our 
 Legislature touching the Southern troops which have 
 come into the State. I am clear in my convictions 
 that J. C. Breckinridge & Co. had these troops brought 
 into Kentucky to serve a purpose. The secession 
 game could be carried no further, after our late State 
 election, unless some pretext for civil war could be 
 found. This was sought in the step the Southern 
 troops have taken. ' Breck.'s ' calculation was that, if 
 the Southern troops would once come into the State 
 and take possession of certain strong points, the way 
 would be open to raise the wind against the United 
 States' authority in Kentucky; and this, by having 
 Gov. Polk do as he has done, to wit : propose to with- 
 draw all Southern troops from Kentucky soil, on con- 
 dition all United States troops be removed ; and on 
 condition United States authorities would enter into 
 stipulations with Southern rebels to sacredly respect 
 Kentucky's neutrality. By this trick, ' Breck.' hoped 
 to get the so-called Southern Confederacy recognized 
 by United States ; also to have Kentucky recognized 
 as virtually independent of United States. In case 
 United States should refuse to enter into such stipula- 
 
83 
 
 tions, he hoped the peace party would be able to turn 
 the State against United States, and make them res- 
 ponsible for our having war in Kentucky ; and thus in- 
 crease disaffection against the United States among our 
 people. But fortunately our Legislature will not pay 
 any attention to Gen. Polk's proposition, and have, 
 with a very strong and determined vote, ordered our 
 governor to have the Southern troops removed, with- 
 out conditions and without ceremony. This will be 
 done. All that remains to be seen, as yet, is whether 
 the secessionists of Kentucky will have the folly to 
 make common cause with Southern rebels, who have 
 invaded our State. If they do, and attempt to resist 
 by arms the will of Kentucky, they will bring down on 
 their own heads terrible things. Ohio, Indiana, and 
 Illinois are standing ready with 15,000 or 20,000 men 
 each, to hurl them on the Southern rebels, just as soon 
 as Kentucky gets ready to strike. We are all looking 
 for Gen. Anderson to call for volunteers in Kentucky ; 
 and if he does, there will be a grand rush of our boys 
 to his standard." — "■ Oct. 2. Zollicoffer's force is threat- 
 ening us, and if our troops fail to drive him back, we 
 will all be overrun here, and many will leave. Troops 
 are coming in from Ohio and Indiana, and our people 
 are all astir getting ready to go to meet him. I am 
 hopeful, and trust we shall be permitted to dwell at 
 home in peace. The fact that the Southern rebels 
 
84 
 
 have invaded our State, has caused some of our Dis- 
 unionists to change their notions, and things are now 
 working in favor of the Union cause. If we can gain a 
 victory over Buckner or Zollicoffer, we will be in a very 
 good way. We anticipate a fight soon, either at Mun- 
 fordville or Bowling Green." 
 
 In November he left Mansfield for New Haven ; this 
 was his last visit home. He iooked care-worn. The 
 study, teaching, and excitement of the past year had 
 borne hard upon him. He was cheerful, though un- 
 usually tender and thoughtful. 
 
 "Danville, Kentucky, November 12, 1861. 
 
 ** I attended the seminary exercises to-day, so you 
 may consider me fairly reinstated in my theological 
 studies. The number of students is only twelve, but 
 the professors are all here, and provided I can get my 
 mind down to it, I ought to be able to make much 
 head-way this session. During the invasion excitement, 
 the Union men were so aroused, and appeared so de- 
 termined, that many Secessionists have left, and the 
 rest either turned Unionists or cooled down. Be- 
 sides 10,000 Kentuckians in actual service, we have 
 
85 
 
 i7,ooo enlisted and in camp, with a good prospect of 
 raising 10,000 more, before January ; so a United States 
 army officer told me Saturday. Kentucky's quota is 
 25,000 ; we have therefore 2,000 more already, after only 
 three months' enlisting. This is pretty well, consider- 
 ing that one-third of Kentucky people were at the start 
 Secessionists, and that full half that go to the war, are 
 obliged to take up arms against either brother, son, or 
 near relative. I think Kentucky ought to do more 
 proportionately than most States, because she has more 
 at stake ; but I hope you will give her credit for what 
 she has done, and consider the difficulties her Union 
 men have to contend with. The battle of Wild Cat 
 Avas fought thirty miles from Paint Lick. The Home 
 Guard, to which I belong, went to Wild Cat on Satur- 
 day. Sunday night, one of our Home Guard was shot 
 dead, while on picket duty. He left a young 
 wife and two children. He was buried with mar- 
 tial honors, in the cemetery near uncle's house ; the turf 
 is still green on his grave. The excitement at that 
 time was intense ; I would have given anything to have 
 been there. The Secessionists were so scared after the 
 defeat, that many slept all night in the woods. Uncle 
 Jim, colored man, asked me yesterday : * William, 
 whar's Jolly-cuffee ? ' — that's the name the niggers all 
 call him. The niggers are all Union, because the rebels 
 have caught all they could and driven them South. Zol- 
 
86 
 
 licoffer has been driven to the Tennessee line, and the 
 inhabitants are jubilant ; they are confident too that 
 Sherman will whip Buckner. The detached divi- 
 sions have been called in toward the central line in 
 front of Buckner. General Thomas' division passed 
 through here, Wednesday and Thursday, on their way to 
 Columbia, so as to form the left wing of Buell's army. 
 On Friday, however, they suddenly received orders to 
 halt ; they are waiting, probably, to allow General Nel- 
 son's column to come up. When the Seventeenth Ohio 
 regiment was marching through here, I took off my hat 
 to some of the soldiers ; seeing which, one of them 
 said : ' Put on your hat, young man, take a musket and 
 come along with us.' This remark of the Ohio soldier 
 stung me, and all the rest of the day I felt unhappy. I 
 have often felt that others, and among them good 
 friends, have looked the same reproof into me. All the 
 fall, especially since I came to Kentucky, I have been 
 feeling so dissatisfied that I am not actively serving m} 
 country, that, at times, it has been absolutely painful 
 Four of my classmates have gone to fight for my country 
 They are probably shivering with cold to-night, and 
 perhaps suffering with painful disease, and I am in the 
 midst of comfort and comparative luxury." — ''We have 
 been discussing ' immortality,' in the seminary. Oh, that 
 I could get full of the idea ! I believe if we thought 
 more of death, we should increase our enjoyment in 
 
87 
 
 everything." — "I am glad to see you so fully arpused 
 for your country, and I subscribe heartily to what you 
 say. ' Three cheers for the red, white, and blue.' Of 
 course, I exult in the thought of being uncle. Tell 
 auntie to put on her dignity." 
 
 From the fall of Sumter till he joined the army, he 
 did not rest. The struggle was great. There were 
 strong reasons why he should not go to war; still, a 
 voice within said, Go. The passing regiment ; the pa- 
 triotism of classmates already in the field ; the look of 
 a friend, and the call of the Ohio soldier — all spoke re- 
 proof — ^as he said — " stung me." We think our young 
 men brave, and willingly go forth to die, and so it is ; 
 but their very nearest friends know not the magnitude 
 of the struggle which bears them on, slowly perhaps, 
 
 but surely, to war and to death. 
 
 " February i, 1862. 
 
 *' We have all been rejoicing over the defeat and rout 
 of the rebels at Somerset. I have seen many of the 
 horses and wagons captured from the enemy. Zollicof- 
 fer's body passed through here, but it was not allowed 
 to be seen. I have often seen Colonel Fry, who shot 
 
88 
 
 him. He is an elder in the First Presbyterian Church 
 in Danville." 
 
 To a classmate : 
 
 *' I suppose you have been indirectly informed of my 
 arrival in Danville, and of my continuing in the semi- 
 nary instead of encamping on the battle-field, where 
 you might have expected to find me, if you remember 
 my valiant talk, when I saw you last. I told the folks 
 at home I would enlist, if our troops were seriously re- 
 pulsed, either at BowHng Green or anywhere in Ken- 
 tucky. This not having occurred, I have not thought 
 myself called to go. But I have, at times, when I 
 have seen regiment after regiment pass through under 
 the stars and stripes, felt mean and ill at ease that I 
 was staying at home in inglorious safety. I have, not- 
 withstanding the exciting scenes so near us, been ena- 
 bled to do considerable studying this year; more, de- 
 cidedly, than I did last year. I expect to be licensed 
 to preach next May. 
 
 '' I have to prepare for examination in April, besides 
 the regular studies, a Latin essay on justification, a 
 critical exercise on John i. 1-14, a lecture on Psalms 
 xxiii, and a sermon to be preached on Acts ii. 28. 
 
 ** We have all rejoiced exceedingly at the defeat of 
 ZoUicoffer. While we did not fear him much, we knew 
 he threatened the Blue-grass region, of which we are 
 
89 
 
 the center. Generals Thomas and Choefif are in town, 
 to-day. Everything indicates a speedy advance in 
 large and concentrated columns into Western Ten- 
 nessee." 
 
 In speaking of sick soldiers around him, he says: 
 
 *' A poor Kentucky soldier was left sick at our 
 house, a month ago. He lived three weeks, and re- 
 quired constant watching. I sat up ten nights in suc- 
 cession, three or four hours a night, till I thought I 
 was going to be sick myself; after that, every other night 
 till he died. I could write a good deal of him and other 
 soldiers, but will defer it till we can talk. Some of our 
 Tennessee cousins are taken prisoners. 
 
 " Not a word from father, or F., or Uncle William, 
 in Tennessee. People here are all for McClellan. 
 They laugh at Fremont." 
 
 "April 29, 1862. — Presbytery met Thursday, at 
 Lancaster, and I was examined on Friday, and my ex- 
 amination was sustained, as they say. In the evening, 
 I preached my first regular sermon before Presby- 
 tery and an audience of the town's people, after which 
 the Presbytery licensed me to preach the Gospel as 
 a * probationer ' for the ministry. 
 
 " They were not hard on me in the examination, but 
 I shrunk from preaching, when I knew I should be the 
 
go 
 
 mark of everybody's criticism. I lost myself twice, but 
 recovered in a few seconds, so that I got through with- 
 out exactly failing/' 
 
 About this time he received an invitation from the 
 Presbyterian Church at Greensburg, Kentucky, to 
 preach for them a Sabbath or two on trial. He writes : 
 
 ^' An elder in the Presbyterian Church at Greensburg, . 
 about sixty miles southwest of Danville, has written 
 me to come and preach there two or three Sundays. If 
 I am acceptable to the people, they may invite me to 
 preach there during the summer. I go with a good 
 deal of diffidence ; for it is a strange place to me, and I 
 understand there are a good many secesh in the church, 
 that make a heap of trouble." 
 
 He engaged to preach for four months to two churches, 
 and also to teach school in the vicinity of Greensburg. 
 
 "June 28. — The churches to which I preach, one in 
 Greensburg, the other in Ebenezer, are both small and 
 weak, especially so now in these excitements. In the 
 Greensburg church half the members are Secessionists. 
 They will scarcely come to hear me, much less give 
 
91 
 
 anything toward my support ; and this only because I 
 am known to be a Union man, and pray for the Union ; 
 for I have not, as yet, touched upon the subject in my 
 sermons. The same may be said of the other church, 
 though in a less degree, most being Union. The 
 Union members are all that could be wished ; firm, 
 true, and uncompromising." 
 
 '* I teach eight hours a day, as it is the custom in 
 the country schools to make a whole day's work of it. 
 I preach twice each Sunda}^. Every other week once 
 to the colored brethren. I feel that I am getting into 
 my life-work, and hope I shall have strength to pursue 
 it long, and that my heart will not be faint." 
 
 '' I have had a pretty hard time of it this session be- 
 tween studying and teaching, and though I have been 
 blessed with health, I do not feel that I can go to work 
 in my new field with the vigor and the strength that I 
 ought to have. My sermons are a great task. Not 
 perhaps so much in themselves as in their continual 
 anticipation. From Monday morning to Sunday it is 
 continually weighing upon me. There is not a moment 
 which school duties leave me, in which I am not un- 
 comfortable, unless I am doing something toward that 
 sermon; but the churches to which I preach know my 
 position, and I hope make all the allowances due. I 
 have many kind friends here, and everything in my sur- 
 roundings seems to be as pleasant as;:an be made." 
 
92 
 
 To his mother: 
 
 " July 20, 1862. 
 
 ** Upon the whole, I am sorry brother H. is going 
 into the army, though I shall not discourage him now. 
 I think it would be better for me to go. I am more 
 afraid of the terrible temptations to wickedness in camp 
 life than the dreadful liability to disease. I have seen 
 enough in Kentucky to make me fear for H. Still, un- 
 der God's care, and by ceaseless prayer and watching, 
 he may overcome all evil. I feel that the cause re- 
 quires the sacrifice of dearest interests." 
 
 The latter part of summer, 1862, he made up his 
 mind to come North again, before he should enter 
 upon his last session at the seminary. The first of 
 September, having fulfilled his time at Greensburg, he 
 made ready for his anticipated trip to Connecticut. 
 His youngest brother had just enlisted in the Fifteenth 
 Regiment, Connecticut Volunteers, which was then in 
 camp, waiting orders to leave New Haven ; and the fam- 
 ily were very anxious that William should reach home 
 
93 
 
 before his brother should be obliged to leave. When the 
 expected hour of his arrival had come, the question was 
 heard all over the house, in going out and coming in, 
 and at the camp : " Has Willie come? " '' Has ' Bob- 
 bie ' come?" But, alas! though we thought we even 
 heard his foot-step upon the porch, no Willie, no 
 ^' Bobbie " was ever more to enter the portal or greet 
 the inmates of his quiet, much-loved earthly home ! 
 
 From the following letters and journal will be seen 
 how different the way in which God led him from that 
 which he had marked out for himself: 
 
 ** Lebanon, Ky., Sept. 3d, 1862. 
 
 *' I am for the present blockaded in this town. I had 
 arranged to leave Ireland Neighborhood (the place 
 where he taught school), bright and early last Monday 
 morning, to be in Danville Monday night. But last 
 Sunday, Morgan the ' Bandit,' entered Columbia, and 
 seized the stage-horses. Monday evening, Morgan's 
 pickets were within a mile of where I was. I packed up 
 my trunk, and left it at Mr. Buchanan's. I started on 
 foot and reached Campbellsville at 9 o'clock P. M. The 
 
94 
 
 stage between Campbellsville and Lebanon did not run, 
 for fear of being captured, so I had to walk to this place. 
 While on my way, I was arrested by the Federal pickets, 
 and detained several hours, but, after seeing the colonel 
 in command, giving him all the information I had, and 
 explaining my own actions, he gave me a pass, and set 
 me on my way rejoicing. He said if he had had a horse 
 to spare, he would have given me one. I reached Leba- 
 non Tuesday afternoon, and here I have been since. No 
 one can pass out toward Danville, because the enemy 
 are there. I am therefore for the present locked up 
 here and my trunk,"^ for aught I know, captured by 
 rebels. But I guess not. Last Friday our forces were 
 whipped near Richmond. The result is, Frankfort, 
 Lexington, Harrodsburg, and the railroad most up to 
 Cincinnati, are in the hands of the rebels. There is 
 some apprehension of an attack on Lebanon, and we 
 may have a fight. I think likely there will be no 
 seminary this year." 
 
 "Louisville, Ky., Sept. 12th, 1862. 
 " Here I am in this city, thrown by the waves of the 
 
 * His trunk, which was carefully made ready for his journey to Con- 
 necticut, was detained at Lebanon, the village in which he was block- 
 aded, where it was pillaged by Morgan's guerillas. A small testament 
 and portfolio, afterward found, were the only articles recovered from its 
 contents. 
 
95 
 
 war on to the banks of the beautiful Ohio, and right 
 glad am I, in all my perplexity, that, at last, I am where 
 I can write. I wrote last from Lebanon, where I was 
 penned up for a little while, by the Federal forces. 
 After Morgan left Danville for Lexington, I succeeded 
 in getting a pass for Danville, where I arrived last Fri- 
 day. There were no rebel troops there, then, but they 
 had left their mark behind. The seminary was broken 
 up. I met Uncle there ; he had left Paint Lick — after 
 hiding a day or two in the woods — as rebel troops had 
 been to his house to arrest him. He did not think it 
 safe to stay in Danville, and has gone to Louisville. I 
 went on to Paint Lick, and preached there, Sunday, but 
 didn't think it wise to stay long. I did not much fear 
 being arrested, but every day made it more difficult to 
 get out of the Confederate lines. So, early Monday 
 morning I returned to Danville, and arrived there in 
 time to see a brigade of rebels, with the banner of treach- 
 ery floating over them, march into town. I went to 
 Dr. Humphrey, the only professor remaining in Dan- 
 ville, to ask his advice as to my course of action, and 
 what he thought of a minister turning soldier. He said 
 he did not think I was called to go into the army, and 
 that I had better go to Princeton. He advised me, more- 
 over, to try and get a chaplaincy in some regiment. I 
 told him there was no way of my getting one. Where- 
 upon he wrote a letter of introduction and recommenda- 
 
96 
 
 tion for me to General Boyle, and told me to hide it 
 about my person, and make for Louisville. I left my 
 baggage and, by walking half the night, I evaded the 
 Confederate pickets, and got beyond their lines by day- 
 break. With some trouble and expense, I reached Louis- 
 ville, Wednesday evening. As to my getting a chaplaincy, 
 all is very doubtful. The vacancies are all in regiments 
 far away in Buell's army, and I am not acquainted with 
 a single regimental officer in those regiments. However, 
 I shall consider the chance worth waiting for. If I do 
 not succeed in getting a chaplaincy, I shall enlist as a 
 private soldier. I cannot go to Princeton, and if I 
 should go, I couldn't study to any advantage, with the 
 conflicting emotions which these times produce in my 
 breast. Ah ! I have been disappointed in all my plans. 
 Let us follow where our Saviour leads. Keep close to 
 him." 
 
 September 24. " Monday the people got scared, 
 and began moving away. I helped pack up two or three 
 families, and one large store, and, at night, joined the 
 National Guard, Company B. I am a private ; we have 
 been expecting hourly to be assigned to some duty, but 
 as yet, we are only drilling. This is a battalion of State 
 Militia. In case I get a commission as chaplain, I can 
 leave it. But if not, I shall stay with it, at least 
 three months. There are a thousand rumors in the 
 city to-day. Buell is said to be quite near, and will 
 
97 
 
 be here to-morrow. If this be so, our danger is avert- 
 ed." 
 
 September 25. '' Friday most of Buell's army got here. 
 Colonel Hobson, of the Thirteenth Regiment Kentucky 
 Volunteers, with whose family I became acquainted at 
 Greensburg, offered me the position of chaplain in his 
 regiment, as there happened to be a vacancy. I gladly 
 accepted, and yesterday obtained a commission from 
 the Adjutant-General. I am therefore now regularly 
 the Chaplain of the Thirteenth Kentucky Volunteers. 
 It is now encamped about two miles from the city. 
 While a member of the Independent National Guards, 
 I was under drill a good part of the time ; we were de- 
 tailed as guards in the city, while the other soldiers 
 went to the fortifications. Night before last I was out 
 all night, and was marching pretty much all the time. 
 We had to pick up straggling soldiers, and send them to 
 their regiments, or put them in the guard-house, and to 
 arrest all suspicious-looking persons. It made me very 
 tired, but I have felt very well to-day." — ■'' These are 
 busy times ; all the regiments have orders to be ready 
 to march at a moment's notice. I must get me some 
 kind of an outfit. I expect to sleep in camp to-morrow 
 night, and on this account I write to-day, although it is 
 Sabbath. I went out to camp this morning to make 
 some arrangements for preaching. The Colonel ap- 
 pointed 4 o'clock this afternoon ; I went out again at 
 
 7 
 
the appointed time, and found that the regiment mean- 
 time had been sent out on picket duty, so that I could 
 not preach. I shall, no doubt, meet many such obsta- 
 cles in my work. Please remember me in your prayers, 
 that I may not be negligent in the duties of my office, 
 or in using all my opportunities for doing good. You 
 know I am not yet a regularly-ordained minister, and 
 therefore cannot be mustered into service. I shall be 
 ordained as soon as I get to Danville, 30th. The city 
 yesterday was much excited about the death of General 
 Nelson. The funeral takes place to-day." 
 
 The following extracts are taken from his war record 
 on the march from Louisville, Kentucky, to Nashville 
 Tennessee: 
 
 Camp of the 5th Division, "| 
 
 Army of the Ohio, >- 
 
 24 miles south of Louisville, j 
 
 '' I am actually in the midst of war scenes ; not ex- 
 actly the cannon's roar, or the smoke of angry batteries, 
 but the din of camp preparations — the smoke of a thou- 
 sand camp-fires, and, more than all, dreadful oaths and 
 curses, which seem to fly on every passing breath of 
 
99 
 
 air. We are now on what is called a ' forced march, 
 although we are not going very fast. I am now writing 
 right on the ground, cross-legged, with my paper on 
 my knee. The 13th Kentucky is two rods on my left, 
 and the 79th Ohio two rods on my right. On Wed- 
 nesday the ist, our regiment was ordered to move. 
 We camped 12 miles from Louisville, Wednesday night. 
 I am taking it on foot for the present. But, fall in ! 
 fall in ! is the order along the line ; so good-by."— " Thurs- 
 day, it was the turn of our brigade and the I ith to lead 
 the advance; so we marched along behind the cavalry 
 and artillery. We caught a glimpse of the Rebel 
 scouts and pickets."—" From Floyd's Creek there is 
 an ascent of about four miles up to Mt. Washington. 
 We went up the ascent through the woods in line of 
 battle, and took the camp of the Rebel regiments of 
 cavalry, who had evacuated it before we could reach 
 them. The day before, in some skirmishing between 
 the cavalry, two of our men were killed. They were 
 both shot in the head, and presented a sad and dread- 
 ful spectacle to me. I hope I shall see no more such, 
 but I am afraid I shall see many. 
 
 "Saturday, we marched three miles toward Bards- 
 town. The advance of our column had a severe skir- 
 mish with the rear guard of the Rebels just on the edge 
 of Bardstown ; we had seven wounded, that escaped, 
 and lost some prisoners. The Rebels left six killed in 
 
lOO 
 
 Bardstown. They got the advantage of us in the skir- 
 mish, but they retreated very fast after it. 
 
 '' Our division, on Saturday, picked up six Rebel 
 soldiers and one captain ; I conversed with the captain 
 some time ; he was a gentlemanly, clean, polite fellow, 
 but an incorrigible Secessionist."- — '' I woke yesterday 
 to find one of the most beautiful Sabbath mornings 
 breaking upon me that I ever beheld ; but it saddened 
 me, when I saw that it made no change in camp life. 
 The reveille was sounded as usual ; the bugles an- 
 swered one another from camp to camp ; the aides flew 
 round to give the orders of the day ; and by seven 
 o'clock, 'Fall in! fall in! ' fell from the adjutant's lips 
 as sternly as ever, and away we marched, the majority 
 of us, perhaps, without knowing it was God's holy day. 
 It was our turn to lead the whole ' corps d'armee ; ' 
 skirmishers were detailed from our regiment to right 
 and left ; we were evidently on the track of the enemy. 
 The road we were following was beaten smooth by 
 the tramp of the retreating Rebels ; and we saw the 
 smoke of their still-burning camp fires, and picked up 
 some fifteen stragglers ; we captured from them about 
 a dozen muskets and three horses. I pitied the poor 
 fellows, and talked particularly with three of them, all 
 of whom said they did not enter the army voluntarily 
 Two of them expressed a willingness to take the oath 
 of allegiance. 
 
lOI 
 
 '' We halted last night on the Bardstown pike road 
 about sun-down ; there was no chance to preach through 
 the day ; I proposed to preach at night, but the poor, 
 hungry soldiers, as soon as they had eaten their scanty 
 meal, wanted to lie down to sleep, and I felt so, too, I 
 must say. A few of us got together and sang a 
 few hymns, and thus ended my first Sabbath in the 
 army. 
 
 " Our staff-wagon, even, did not get up with the regi- 
 ment ; I had nothing but a thin summer coat on, and 
 the night was decidedly cool ; I was glad to accept 
 from the Colonel the loan of a thin horse-blanket. I 
 caught snatches of sleep, to wake up every half hour, 
 and find myself shivering. I would get up and put some 
 more fence-rails — which for aught I know were stolen — 
 on the fire; then, after warming myself all around, I 
 would lie down and sleep till I got thoroughly chilled ; 
 and so on, throughout the night. I was heartily glad 
 when morning came, although I was not rested, and 
 had nothing to eat. To-day our regiment, instead of 
 being the extreme front, is in the rear even of the bag- 
 gage-train ; so we have to wait in camp to let the whole 
 corps pass by. I improved the opportunity by bathing 
 in * Beech Fork.' When I got back, our wagons were 
 coming into camp ; so the next thing was to get break- 
 fast. I then attended to some things about baggage, 
 etc. It was by that time one o'clock. Still the army 
 
102 
 
 was moving — moving — moving. It is now nine hours 
 since the advance passed. This is what has given me 
 time to write, but we will soon be going." 
 
 '' I am not unhappy in my position ; I feel it is just 
 the place for me ; it will help me to serve my country; 
 to administer to the wants of my suffering fellow-crea- 
 tures without deserting the peculiar work which my 
 Father has called me to do. The future is bright before 
 me. The petty hardships I am occasionally called to 
 undergo are far more than balanced by the conscious- 
 ness that I am engaged in a noble, a righteous cause. 
 
 '' October 8. On the road sixteen miles west of Dan- 
 ville. Monday, we marched till nearly midnight, and 
 camped at Springfield. Yesterday, we had a tedious 
 march; at times it was really distressing. The day was 
 hot and sultry, and we found no water. Thirty thou- 
 sand soldiers drained the last drop, and I gladly drank 
 the filthiest water. We were obliged to go five miles 
 out of our way to get to the stream. Thousands of 
 soldiers fell out by the way perfectly exhausted. I am 
 told we have picked up about three thousand pris- 
 oners in all. Buell has the' perfect confidence of the 
 army. He has at least seventy-five thousand troops in 
 the field, which left Louisville all the same morning. 
 Crittenden's corps, in which I am, has at least twenty- 
 five thousand ; Thomas' and McCook's command, each 
 a corps. I think we shall sweep the State ; all so far is 
 
103 
 
 highly successful. There is also a force advancing 
 down from Cincinnati." — ''On Wednesday, the 8th 
 October, a severe battle was fought at Perryville, twelve 
 miles west of Danville. Crittenden's corps was not 
 seriously engaged, but the left wing suffered severely. 
 The battle-field is a terrible sight." 
 
 " October 22. Between Danville and Perryville, Mor- 
 gan's band attacked and drove in our pickets, but was 
 speedily repulsed. The attack, however, delayed us a 
 day. Our brigade, on Friday, was obliged to march 
 and stand in a cold rain for over six hours, and then it 
 was long after dark before we could get into camp and 
 have any fires made. The result was, that I was verj^ 
 sick. If we had marched far on Saturday, I don't 
 think I could have borne it. 
 
 " The regiment moved on toward Crab-Orchard and 
 Mt. Vernon; I left in order to spend a night at Paint 
 Lick. When I had arrived in sight of uncle's house, 
 I ran right into some Rebel pickets. I was somewhat 
 alarmed, as the day before I had bought a horse and I 
 expected to lose it ' instanter' Fortunately, however, 
 I had no badge of any kind on my person. The first 
 question they asked me, was where I lived ? I pointed 
 to uncle's house, and said, tJierc. Two pickets were 
 detailed to accompany me to the house, and I got 
 home safe. 
 
 " The next day I took to the woods and corn-fields. 
 
104 
 
 and got safely beyond the Rebel lines, and went imme- 
 diately to Crab-Orchard, where I gave the information 
 at head-quarters. Saturday, I caught up with the regi- 
 ment, two miles beyond Rockcastle River. Sunday, I 
 preached. The regiment was seated on the ground all 
 around. I talked as well as I could, from the text, 
 * Prepare to meet thy God.' Soon after, orders came 
 for marching. We went beyond Wild-Cat, over some 
 of the roughest roads and wildest country that ever 
 man beheld. We camped Sunday night in the woods, 
 in Laurel County, a few miles north of Loudon." 
 
 He left the regiment now for a day or two to attend 
 his ordination. 
 
 ''October 25, 1862. — I was ordained last night at 
 Danville, and am now a regular minister of the Gospel." 
 
 He had been a student of theology at Danville two 
 years, and, although he had been interrupted in his 
 studies by teaching, as he had been in college, yet it 
 will appear by the following extracts, that he made 
 such proficiency in his work as to give ample satisfac- 
 tion to the officers and trustees of the seminary. 
 
105 
 
 From Rev. A. A. Hogue, one of the trustees of the 
 
 seminary : 
 
 ^' It was my duty, as well as pleasure, to be at the 
 examination of the students of the seminary, at the 
 close of each session. In these examinations William 
 always stood at the head, among the first of his class, 
 making the contrast evident to every one present of the 
 superiority of his attainments, and the ardor of his 
 studies. He was a young man of jnark, even in the 
 seminary. There was added to this much undissembled 
 humility, such total absence of self, such absorption in 
 his studies, as was charming in the highest degree to 
 the visitors and hearers. I was at the Presbytery 
 meeting at which he was licensed to preach the gospel. 
 His trial pieces were of the very highest order. This I 
 say deliberately, after an experience in this same Pres- 
 bytery of some twenty-three years in licensing young 
 men, and we have during that period licensed some 
 that are now doing a good work, and stand deservedly 
 high in the annals of the Church. His power of analy- 
 sis^ was very great, and his logical power was such, that 
 he would follow a subject out into all its ramifications, 
 setting forth with great power and truthfulness the 
 leading parts of the text. He had fine abilities as a 
 speaker. He was fluent and easy, making a fine im- 
 pression on his audience, and carrying home with great 
 
io6 
 
 power the truth as it is in Jesus. But while he was re- 
 markable in these respects, he was even more remark- 
 able for his simple, unostentatious piety. This was the 
 great charm that gave him power with the people. 
 They believed in his goodness, in his sincerity as a 
 Christian." 
 
 Dr. Breckinridge, President of the Seminary, Profes- 
 sors Humphrey and Yerkes, unitedly speak of him in 
 the following note : — 
 
 " All accounts agree in representing his work as a li- 
 centiate as having given great promise of future useful- 
 ness, and his short service as chaplain in the army as 
 being in full accordance with that promise. Our know- 
 ledge of him was chiefly as a student under our care up 
 to the period of licensure, and we take a melancholy 
 pleasure in declaring our confidence in him, our respect 
 and esteem for him, and our assured hopes concerning 
 him. His conduct was, as it appeared before us, wholly 
 blameless ; his example profitable in all things to his 
 fellow-students ; his success in his studies very marked, 
 and his whole character and his attainments, both in 
 divine and human knowledge, seemed to point him out 
 as one whom the Lord had chosen and fitted to do much 
 for His blessed cause. All that is known to us of his 
 previous life, before he came to the Danville Theologi- 
 
I07 
 
 cal Seminary, adds to the mysterious Providence of his 
 early death, which to weak human judgment would 
 seem to be one of the innumerable blows falling upon 
 the Church in these sad times." 
 
 To his brother H. : 
 
 " November i, 1862. 
 
 " I have found it extremely difficult during our march 
 from Louisville in chase of Bragg, to write at all. We 
 are now in Green county, where I preached during the 
 summer, and I am writing in the house of one of my 
 parishioners. I have been well most of the time, and 
 well enough to march all the time. On this march we 
 have been without the sign of a tent. Often the staff- 
 wagon has not been up with us, and I have slept several 
 nights with nothing but a horse-blanket under me, and 
 the sky as a star-spangled banner over me. The 
 weather has been precisely such as I would wish to 
 gradually harden me to the service. Buell has'nt caught 
 Bragg. I understand he is superseded and that Rose- 
 crans takes his place. I have had very little opportu- 
 nity to preach. We have had several prayer-meetings, 
 and my work looks brighter and easier as I get ac- 
 quainted with the men. Our army, I expect, is now 
 making for Nashville. Tell me all about your chaplain 
 and the meetings in your regiment. By the way, don't 
 
;o8 
 
 neglect the prayer-meeting. Tell me all about your 
 health, and duties and doings ; all about the brigades 
 and their stations, and commanders. Now, do your 
 duty on all occasions, it is ever the path of safety. 
 Write home frequently ; be constant in prayer ; put on 
 the whole armor of God ; pray for your brother." 
 " November 4. I am again at Greensburg. Friday 
 we reached Columbia. As this was very near to Green 
 county where our regiment was mostly raised, permis- 
 sion was given to the men and officers to ' go home ' 
 for three days and report in Glasgow. This opportu- 
 nity of visiting their homes was joyfully accepted by 
 the men, most of whom had not been home for thirteen 
 or fourteen months. Friday night I staid in Ebenezer. 
 Saturday I came down with Colonel Hobson to Greens- 
 burg, and preached here on Sunday morning. I then 
 went back and preached in the afternoon at Ebenezer. 
 Monday morning I went over to Ireland and visited the 
 school-house, where I saw many of my old scholars." 
 
 *' Nov. II, Camp near Silver Springs, ) 
 
 between Nashville and Gallatin, V 
 
 and south of Cumberland River. ) 
 
 ^' When I left Greensburg, by the kindness of Mr. 
 Wilson, I was furnished with a horse to ride to Glas- 
 gow. The regiment I found had left Glasgow the same 
 
109 
 
 morning. I took up the line of march and overtook it 
 just as it entered Scottsville. Friday, we reached the 
 State line, and bid good-bye to old Kentucky. Our men 
 were fresh from their homes, they had clean shirts, and 
 clean faces, and crossed the line with willing steps, yet 
 all seemed to feel as if they were going from home. 
 We camped that night for the first time on the soil of 
 a seceded State. Saturday night, we camped on the 
 Cumberland, a little below Gallatin ; we rested there 
 Sunday, and a delightful day of rest it was. I preached, 
 in the morning, to a large, attentive audience."— '^ We 
 had prayer-meeting last night; a few good humble 
 Christians attend. Although the number is small, I be- 
 lieve that the prayer-meeting is the place where the 
 most good will be effected. The health of the regiment 
 is good. My own health never was better ; I hope for 
 the best. But when the cold damp rains of a Southern 
 winter come, it will be a different thing from the pleas- 
 ant weather of the fall. Morgan's cavalry is prowling 
 about us, and teazing us considerably. This morning 
 some of his men made a dash within two miles of our 
 camp, and picked up some fifty of our men, and were off 
 in a trice. He's hard to catch, and I'm afraid neither 
 Rosecrans, nor any one else, will do much better than 
 Buell, with the old rascal^ 
 
no 
 
 To Dwight Peck,* who, together with several of his 
 scholars had enlisted in the United States army: 
 
 *'Camp Seven Miles East of Nashville, ) 
 '' November 24, 1862. f 
 
 *' I was at the battle of Perryville, but being on the 
 right wing, our regiment was not in the action. I went 
 over a portion of the battlefield, and saw horrible sights. 
 I think General Buell has faults, but by no means de- 
 serves the censure which he has generally received. 
 We all give, however, a hearty support to General 
 Rosecrans, and hope he will be speedily successful in 
 the highest degree. 
 
 *' I think you did well to vote for Buckingham at the 
 time. If all the Democrats had done as you did, we 
 would have had one grand Union party. Would that 
 all good Union-loving men would join and save the 
 nation. 
 
 " On our march we moved every Sunday. I am get- 
 ting acquainted with the men, and hope to do good by 
 
 * This worthy and patriotic young man — Dwight Peck — died of 
 typhoid fever at the regimental hospital, opposite Fredericksburg, Vir- 
 ginia, on the I2th of January, 1863, just one month and nine days after 
 William's death. He was the son of Pearl Peck, Esq., of North Wind- 
 ham, Connecticut. 
 
Ill 
 
 conversation. Pray for me, Divight, and for yourself. 
 Keep your integrity, and don't give way to the least in- 
 fraction of the right. Remember me with much affec- 
 tion and regard to Charlie F., to Alvin, to Osmore, to 
 Henry B., and Madison, and any other scholars who 
 are with you, not forgetting Captain S. 
 
 "' Stand by each other in times of temptation. Be- 
 ware of the first ' tip of zvhisky^ even on a weary 
 march — the first profane expression or vulgarity. God 
 bless and guide you all." 
 
 "■ Silver Springs, Wilson Co., Tenn., ) 
 " November 17, 1862. ) 
 
 " The main body of the army is in Nashville. Crit- 
 tenden's Corps is here, about twenty miles from there. 
 We staid in camp from Monday till Friday. This was 
 the longest rest we have had since leaving Louisville, 
 but as we were expecting to move all the time, and 
 were occasionally ordered into line of battle, we did 
 not profit much by it. Sunday, we marched twenty 
 miles. I got wet through and through, but I went to 
 bed dry and warm, which many of the soldiers couldn't 
 do, as they had no clothes to change. My work has 
 been rather discouraging, though I feel nothing like 
 despairing of seeing brighter and cheerier times. 
 There are some good Christian men in the regiment, 
 
112 
 
 and I hope we will be able to strengthen ourselves. 
 Not many Union people hereabouts." 
 
 The letter from which the above extract was taken 
 was the last he sent home, though he wrote at a later 
 date to some of his friends. The last account he had 
 given of his health, November nth, was: "My own 
 health was never better." 
 
 The members of his family were now separated, no 
 two of them together. The father was in Mississippi, 
 the elder brother in North Carolina, the sisters in Con- 
 necticut, the younger brother in the army, and the 
 mother in Granville, Ohio. 
 
 Thus separated, while each one was anxiously wait- 
 ing to hear from him again, the heartrending telegram 
 announcing his death, reached his mother in Ohio on 
 the afternoon of the 3d of December, 1862. The in- 
 tervening week between the announcement of his death 
 and the receiving of Adjutant Woodruff's letter, was a 
 
113 
 
 week not to be forgotten. The fact— and only the fact 
 — had reached us, that our promising son and brother 
 was dead. His father and brother F. could not even 
 be informed of the sad fact. His brother H., then in 
 the midst of battle before Fredericksburg, Virginia — 
 his sisters — what a sudden blow to them ! His mother, 
 although separated from her own family, was yet in 
 the midst of relatives and sympathizing friends. Her 
 aged father, over four score years and ten, mourning 
 and laboring to soothe his heart-striken daughter by 
 his comforting words and prayers. A loving sister, 
 whose heart was full of kindness and tender sympathy, 
 and many other friends manifesting sorrow in her sor- 
 row. In i860, after William left for Kentucky, his 
 mother had a short dream. Two students were walking- 
 on the opposite side of the street from the house ; one 
 said to the other: ''William C. Johnston is dead." 
 The same words came in the telegram, the word 
 '* Rev. " only being prefixed. 
 
114 
 
 FROM ADJUTANT WOODRUFF, OF THE I3TH KY. REGT. 
 
 " MUNFORDVILLE, Ky., Dec. 4, 1862. 
 
 *' Mrs. Johnston : — It is my painful duty to inform 
 you of the death of your excellent son— the Chaplain 
 of our regiment. We left Nashville on the 25th Nov. 
 On Thursday, the 27th, he complained of having a cold, 
 and feeling unwell. We were on our return from Ten- 
 nessee to this place ; but, owing to various trivial acci- 
 dents to the locomotive, we were detained on the road 
 until Sunday, Nov. 30. Upon arriving at this place, 
 Col. Hobson, Col. Carlile, and Capt. Thompson had him 
 removed to a hotel. He seemed to get a little worse, 
 but no ^nxiety was felt for him. During the night of 
 the 2d (Tuesday), he became alarmingly ill, and Wed- 
 nesday morning, the surgeon pronounced that he would 
 not live through the day. 
 
 " I visited him about half-past 9 o'clock A. M. He 
 seemed to breathe hard, and suffered some. Rev. 
 James C. Rush, who was in attendance, determined to 
 inform him of his real condition. He called him, and 
 Mr. Johnston turned on his back, and Mr. Rush told 
 him his time was short in this world, and if he had any 
 directions to give, he would receive them. He then 
 gave your name and that of two sisters, wishing to be 
 
115 
 
 remembered to you It was with great difficulty he 
 spoke. After a moment's pause, he quoted a passage 
 of Scripture, which I could not understand. I then 
 suggested to him, if he would have me telegraph to 
 you. He replied in the affirmative. I then took leave 
 of him, and he gave me his blessing, which were the 
 last intelligible w^ords he uttered. 
 
 '' I proceeded to the office and telegraphed. He was 
 very low. While waiting there, I received intelligence 
 that he was dead, which I immediately telegraphed to 
 you. He died about lo o'clock A. M., Dec. 3d, of 
 typhoid pneitnwnia^ and was buried this morning at 
 the same hour, in the private burying-ground of Mr. 
 Robert Munford, a Presbyterian gentleman of this 
 place. The regiment accompanied the corpse to the 
 grave. Our acquaintance with your son was short, 
 but, in that time, he proved himself a devoted Christian 
 and an honorable man. He was universally beloved 
 by the regiment, and ever received the highest esteem 
 of officers and men. He was attended in his illness by 
 Assistant Surgeon Edward S. Cooper, assisted by Dr. 
 Gardner, of Woodsonville. Private Thomas J. Carey, 
 Company A, an excellent nurse, attended him day and 
 night. Captain Wallace Victor occupied the same 
 room, and rendered him every attention in his power. 
 Rev. James C. Rush was present, and did all in his 
 power to soothe his last moments. In writing you this 
 
ii6 
 
 painful intelligence, I am desired to give you the sin- 
 cerest sympathy of Col. Hobson, Col. Carlile, Major 
 Hobson, and every officer in the regiment. All unite 
 in sending their kindest regards to your afflicted family. 
 ** I am, very respectfully, 
 
 " W. W. Woodruff, 
 
 *' Adjutant 13th Ky. Vols." 
 
 The Adjutant's letter brought a relief hardly antici- 
 pated in those times of war, when so many among the 
 sick and dying could not be cared for at all. Since our 
 boy must die, that so many kind friends were ready to 
 give him every necessary attention ; that a grave, too, 
 should be kindly made ready in a secure private burial- 
 place— was to us, as a family, a great comfort. We 
 would tender to these friends our heart-felt gratitude. 
 
 The officers and men of the 13th Kentucky Regiment 
 we shall not forget. Their spiritual welfare lay near the 
 heart of their young Chaplain. Often, when writing 
 home, did he speak of them, hoping to be able to do 
 
11/ ' 
 
 them good, to point them to Christ as their only 
 Saviour ; regretting that, so far, so few opportunities 
 had been offered of preaching the Gospel to them, and 
 meeting with them for prayer and praise. 
 
 Subsequently to receiving the Adjutant's letter we 
 learned, through other friends, that after his arrival at 
 Munfordville he did not incline to talk much — was 
 rather drowsy. His physical strength, however, re- 
 mained to the last. The morning he died, he walked 
 from his couch to his bed, and read a letter he had just 
 received. It does not seem that he anticipated death 
 as near, but said, if called to die now, he was ready ; 
 and at last, when told that death was at the door, he 
 accepted the message without alarm ; spoke of his 
 dearest earthly ties ; then calmly resigned his spirit 
 into the hands of Him who gave it. 
 
 The following lines were found among his army 
 papers : 
 
ii8 
 
 " I shine in the light of God : 
 
 His likeness stamps my brow; 
 Through the shadows of Death my feet have 
 trod, 
 
 And I reign in glory now ! 
 
 '^ I have found the joy of heaven, f 
 
 I am one of the angel band ; 
 To my head a crown is given, 
 
 And the harp is in my hand. 
 
 " I have learned the song they sing. 
 
 Whom Jesus hath set free ; 
 And the glorious walls of heaven now ring 
 
 With my new-born melody. 
 
 " Friends of my mortal years, 
 
 The trusted and the true, 
 You're walking still through the valley of tears, 
 
 And I wait to welcome you. 
 
 " And why should your tears flow down. 
 And your hearts be sorely riven, 
 
 For another gem in your Saviour's crown. 
 Another soul in heaven ? " 
 
119 
 
 FROM ROBERT S. MUNFORD, ESQ., TO WM'S UNCLE. 
 
 " MuNFORDViLLE, Dec. 3, 1862. 
 
 ''Rev. Mr. Johnston: 
 
 '' Dear Sir : — It becomes my painful duty to inform 
 you of the very sudden and unexpected death of your 
 nephew, Rev. Wm. C. Johnston, Chaplain of the 13th 
 Ky. Reg't of Infantry — Col. Hobson. It is now about 
 noon. He died about 10 o'clock to-day. He was 
 brought sick to my boarding-house on Monday morn- 
 ing last, and, as there was no suitable room for him 
 here, Capt. Thompson took him to a hotel, where he 
 had a good quiet room above stairs, and every neces- 
 sary care and attention given him. Capt. Victor and a 
 good nurse detached from the regiment attended him 
 night and day. I was not present when he died. The 
 Rev. J. C. Rush, Chaplain of Col. Grider's regiment, 
 informed me last night that he asked him a few minutes 
 before his death if he thought himself dangerously ill. 
 He said he did not. Mr. R. then informed him he was 
 dying. He received the word with a great deal of com- 
 posure and self-possession. * " * I have had the grave 
 dug in our family burying-ground, and he will be buried 
 there to-morrow at 11 o'clock." 
 
120 
 
 FROM WM S UNCLE TO MR. MUNFORD. 
 
 '' Paint Lick, Dec' 12, '6:. 
 
 '' My Very Dear Sir :— Your kind letters of the 3d 
 and 4th inst. reached me by the last mail. I was truly 
 afflicted by the sad intelligence you sent me. We had 
 received a letter from William, written near Gallatin, 
 Tenn., a few weeks ago, full of life and devotion to the 
 duties of his office in the army, and not a word as to 
 his being sick or in feeble health. Up to the time of 
 receiving your letter announcing his sudden death, I 
 had looked upon him as my own son, and of course 
 took the deepest interest in him and in all his pursuits, 
 and had entertained the confident hope that the Spirit 
 of God rested on him, and was rapidly preparing him 
 for very great services in the Lord's vineyard. 
 
 "■ We cannot feel any mistrust as to William's present 
 blessedness in the presence of God his Saviour. He 
 lived as one who expected to die, and I am glad to 
 hear from you that he met death calmly, without a 
 fear." 
 
121 
 
 From a cousin 
 
 " I cannot tell you with what grief I read your letter 
 announcing the death of our dear William. How can 
 his country, his family, or his friends spare him ? But 
 it is not for us to question— Why? 
 
 " The noble, self-sacrificing boy, so young and so 
 gifted, has fallen while serving his country. How com- 
 forting the assurance of his growing devotedness to the 
 cause of his Divine Master ! His life, too, is convmcn.g 
 proof of his preparation for the change. Th.s is every- 
 thin... I think you have the greatest cause for grati- 
 tude! Your family, too, in this hour of bereavement, 
 all know where to go for consolation. If you could be 
 together now, if only for a few hours, your hearts would 
 be cheered and strengthened. But this c^_"^°*^_^p„ 
 
 From his grandfather to his brother and sisters: 
 
 .. Our beloved William, much as we loved him, must 
 CO to swell the number of those who are sacrificed for 
 
 " , Up wai; lovelv in his life, and 
 
 their country's cause. He was lovely m 
 
 his memory will ever be precious to us all. I was ac- 
 quainted with him by short visits, and the more I saw 
 of him the more I loved him, and it appears to be so 
 
122 
 
 everywhere. But he is gone where sickness and sorrow 
 can never enter to disturb the peace and happiness of 
 its inhabitants. " 
 
 FROM THE LATE REV. J. L. OGDEN. 
 
 " New Haven, Ct., Dec. i6, 1862. 
 
 '* Your note, giving us information of William's 
 death, was duly received, and filled us all with grief. 
 His mind was cultivated, and he gave promise of a 
 useful life, a comfort to his parents, and a blessing to 
 the world. But God, in His infinite wisdom and good- 
 ness, too, has taken him away. I know how difficult it 
 is for us poor imperfect creatures to trust that all is 
 well, and that the best thing has taken place which 
 could take place. It is hard to bring these wicked, 
 faithless hearts of ours to the full measure of that con- 
 fidence in God, which leaves all things, without reserve, 
 in His hands. And yet this, we know, is not only our 
 duty, but our happiness. 
 
 '' But, though we know this, and acknowledge that 
 God has done His will and done it right, yet the heart 
 feels on, and cannot rest. This is the natural effect of 
 grief. It must be indulged to a certain extent. We 
 
123 
 
 cannot pen up the overflowings of nature, even by con- 
 siderations of evangelical truth. ''^ - "^ The peaceable 
 fruits of righteousness, which we are told that chastening 
 yields, are not at the time of our greatest suffering, but 
 * afterward. ' When affliction first overtakes us, we 
 are overwhelmed. It is ' afterward, ' when we have 
 the time to think of God and His government, and to 
 call up to view the various grounds of hope and com- 
 fort, that we find our resignation and confidence. 
 
 " I think you have much to assuage your grief in the 
 personal character of Willie. There can be no doubt 
 that he is at rest. The time will come in your exists 
 ence when you will see the rectitude and wisdom of 
 God's proceedings in the present case. We pray for 
 you and sympathize with you, but vain is the help of 
 man. God only can put under you His everlasting 
 arms, and keep you from sinking in these deep waters." 
 
 From his classmate, Rev. J. L. Daniels : 
 
 *' He loved 0/d Yale with a hearty love. He was in- 
 terested in everything pertaining to college. Though 
 absent so much by reason of teaching, he was constantly 
 rising in rank, and stood much above the average rank 
 of his classmates. As a mathematician he was among 
 
124 
 
 the very first. Yet, as a speaker and writer, he was 
 most eminent. His first prizes in composition, declama- 
 tion, and debate, so rarely taken by the same person, 
 testify to his superiority in these respects. These 
 talents, coupled with his warm social nature, explain 
 his love for college societies. He was ardent and en- 
 thusiastic in them, for they called out those very quali- 
 ties which he possessed to such an unusual degree. 
 These qualities, added to the still rarer ones, of an hum- 
 ble estimate of self, and freedom from envy, made him 
 exceedingly popular in his class and college. He devel- 
 oped very rapidly. No man in the class improved more 
 rapidly than he. * * * And what pleased me more 
 than all, was the knowledge of the fact, from my very 
 intimate acquaintance with him, that he never compro- 
 mised conscience, or lowered the standard of duty. He 
 mingled with students of all grades of character, yet 
 did not borrow from them standards of action. " 
 
 Another classmate, David J. Ogden, says : 
 
 ** As a friend he was firm and devoted, possessing the 
 rare virtue of entering into the feelings and troubles of 
 others. * * * His course in college was eminently 
 brilliant, bearing off more honors than any single mem- 
 ber of his large class of one hundred and eight. Such, 
 
125 
 
 however, was his habitual modesty, that his unusual 
 success excited no ill will or envy among his classmates. 
 They all admired his talents, esteemed his virtues, and 
 loved him as a friend and brother. 
 
 *' As a Christian he was distinguished for the strength 
 of his convictions, and his firm adherence to duty. 
 Consistent and irreproachable, none could fail to see the 
 sincerity and unostentatious simplicity of his character 
 and life. " 
 
 " St. Helena, S. Ca., Jan. 6, 1862. 
 
 ** Last Saturday evening," says a classmate, " my 
 wife read to me from the * Independent ' the sad, sad 
 notice of dear Will's death. It brought to my eyes 
 the first tears they have known for a long time. I can- 
 not realize that he is dead. It does not seem that I 
 shall not grasp his hand next Commencement. I can't 
 give up the hope which has given me so much joy, that 
 all along in life I shall now and then meet his dear face, 
 and enjoy communion with him. I loved Will dearly." 
 
 '* How I wish I could comfort you ! Loving classmates 
 and friends in New Haven must have spoken words 
 of sympathy, which make my written ones sound 
 cold and tame. But believe me, dear friends, I fully 
 
126 
 
 sympathize with you, and my prayers for you have been 
 earnest and frequent, that you may be comforted with 
 Divine consolation. You will greatly miss him as a son 
 and brother, and will need much grace to feel resigned 
 to the loss of one so precious. 
 
 " E. S. Williams." 
 
 From his uncle, S. L. Howe : 
 
 '' Oh, how my heart bleeds for you and yours ! I am 
 sure that God doeth all things well. Your dear son 
 was undoubtedly ripe for heaven, and God took him to 
 swell the joy and bliss of that glorious and hallowed 
 place. This was done, we doubt not, for the greatest 
 peace, joy, and happiness of the whole universe of 
 God. In this thought may you be comforted. Life, 
 at best, is short ; a few years, more or less, is but of 
 little consequence, so that we be prepared for the great 
 change. I have never realized this so much as since 
 this war began ; and I pray God, night and day, that 
 it may never end till universal liberty may be per- 
 fectly and fully established wherever the Stars and 
 Stripes wave. 
 
 ''Your son is dead — sacrificed on his country's altar 
 — and mine may be dead, also ; but I have others to 
 offer, and myself, too, if the Lord wills. God alone 
 
127 
 
 can console you ! Go to Him. Be of good cheer. 
 Heaven will fill this void with glories which eye hath 
 not seen, nor ear heard." 
 
 A friend at Salem, Mass., says : 
 
 " It was with deep sorrow that I yesterday heard of 
 Willie's death, and read a copy of a letter from the 
 adjutant of his regiment. 'Twas pleasant to see how 
 they all loved him, as a Christian and as a man. It 
 was the first of my knowing that Willie was in the 
 army, and a chaplain, too. How like him ! In whatever 
 place he occupied, still engaged in his Master's service. 
 All our recollections of him are of the most pleasant 
 character; and all are deeply pained to learn of his 
 early death, though we are constrained to say : What is 
 our loss is his gain. Oh, what a blessed comfort it is, 
 in losing near and dear friends, to feel that all is well 
 with them ; that they were fully prepared to go ! It 
 takes away much of the pain of parting ! " 
 
 From a friend in advanced years : 
 
 *' I feel that you will be sustained and comforted by 
 
128 
 
 our Heavenly Father, who knows what is best for his 
 children. Your dear son was spared to you long enough 
 to accomplish the great business of life. You have seen 
 him take the Saviour as his friend and portion, in prefer- 
 ence to all worldly things. You have witnessed his 
 godly example and his holy influence on those around 
 him, and his desire to go forth in his country's defense, 
 notwithstanding the dangers that awaited him. Then, 
 most of all, to meet the messenger of death with such 
 calmness. God grant that this great trial may be sanc- 
 tified to you all ! * ^ '^ Deep sorrow gathered in our 
 hearts as we heard of the decease of your beloved son. 
 We ever felt, when Willie was with us, that our cup of 
 pleasure was mingled with an unusual fullness. We all 
 loved him — loved his noble principles, his intelligent 
 conversation, his Christian spirit, and many times is he 
 now referred to. Often, as he passed and re-passed 
 through the parlor and hall, did we hear him sing some 
 heavenly song ; and among the number, and perhaps 
 the oftenest : 
 
 " ' Oh, sing to me of heaven, 
 
 When I'm about to die ; 
 Sing songs of holy ecstasy, 
 To waft my soul on high. ' 
 
 "And now his disenthralled and happy spirit is 
 
129 
 
 winging its way on pinions of love toward the great 
 center of heavenly bliss. 
 
 '' W. W. " 
 
 From Mrs. M. G. Benjamin, who knew him from 
 childhood : 
 
 ''Your dear William gone; cut off in all his prom- 
 ise ; with all his bright youthful hopes and energies 
 fresh ; so full as he was of life ! I can hardly realize it ; 
 and you mourning the first breach that death has made 
 in your family ! My heart aches for you, my dear sister, 
 and I would fain speak some words of comfort to your 
 stricken heart. But you have higher consolations — a 
 Friend that can sustain and comfort, when human 
 sympathy and love are felt to be of little avail ; and I 
 trust that Friend is near you, sitting with you, as He 
 did with the mourners, at Bethany. Dear William ! 
 All my recollections of him are so pleasant ; and so all 
 his friends may say ; for a lovelier natural disposition was 
 never combined with finer mental powers, and energy, 
 and determination of purpose than in his character ; 
 and when the grace of God sanctified all these natural 
 9 
 
I30 
 
 traits, and superadded an earnest piety, we had reason 
 to look for the accomplishment of much good in the 
 world through him. But he has not lived in vain ; his 
 short life has left an impression that will not be lost on 
 all who knew him ; and ripened thus early for heaven, 
 his fine powers of mind and soul have entered on the 
 higher and more perfect praise and service of that 
 world. But, oh, your sorrow is heavy. I do, indeed, 
 know the ' aching heart.' You have the sweetest com- 
 fort you could have, under such a trial, in the sure evi- 
 dence his life of devoted piety gave of his full prepara- 
 tion for heaven. 
 
 ^' I think of you with most tender sympathy, and I 
 feel much for the brother and sisters. Frontis will feel it, 
 and it will be a severe blow to his father, if the news 
 reaches him. Our poor country ! How many Rachels 
 are weeping like you ; but not all have your consola- 
 tions in their sorrow. A dark day this is." 
 
 ^' Your note," says a friend, " calls pleasantly to my 
 remembrance your noble departed son William, and it 
 also calls to mind most sadly the vacancy created in 
 your family circle, by his sudden call to heavenly scenes. 
 He was ever a joy and a comfort to his friends, and had 
 gone directly and manfully to work in his Master's 
 cause, even while preparing himself for more extended 
 
131 
 
 usefulness. I well know what a main-stay he was in 
 your household, and how much his natural cheerfulness 
 lightened dark days. Truly, we have here no abiding 
 city, but we seek one to come, and the knowledge of 
 that is a glorious knowledge. 
 
 '* W. B. D." 
 
 From Mr. Wilson, of Greensburg, Ky. : 
 
 '' Our house was Mr. Johnston's home when here. 
 He was as one of the family, dearly beloved by every 
 member. His death cast a gloom over this entire com- 
 munity. We considered him, at the time of his death, 
 as the pastor of our church. No minister of his age 
 could have had more friends than he had. Young, 
 talented, patriotic, and a devoted Christian, it was hard 
 to give him up. When the army was returning to 
 Nashville, Mr. Johnston and a number of the 13th 
 Ky. returned by this place, and remained at their 
 homes about three days. This was the last time we 
 ever saw or heard our beloved brother Johnston preach. 
 The sermon he delivered that Sabbath to a very large 
 and attentive audience, will never be forgotten by his 
 hearers. " 
 
132 
 
 Mrs. Wilson adds : J 
 
 " " The morning he left, I prepared a bundle for him 
 of such eatables as I thought he would relish, knowing 
 that soldiers' fare, even the best, was indifferent. 
 When we told him good-bye, how little did we think it 
 would be for the last time ! " 
 
 " Dec. 14th, 1862. 
 
 " It is but two days, " says a classmate, " since I 
 heard the sad news of the death of William. The 
 particulars, I hope, may soon reach us ; but whether 
 they do or not, I shall rest in the assurance that his 
 death, like his life, was a noble one ; for we die as we 
 live. 
 
 " I write to express my sympathy with you, and my 
 esteem and love for William. Though you knew of the 
 friendship that had grown up between us, yet I doubt 
 if you were at all aware how strong it had become. 
 William was my dearest classmate. Of the one hundred 
 and eight, there were many warm friends whom I shall 
 never cease to love ; but he was dearest of all. He was so 
 simple, frank, generous, amiable, noble-hearted, and 
 manly, that my soul was knit to him as David's was to 
 Jonathan. How sacred are the memories that cling to 
 
133 
 
 him ! The places associated with him are many and dear. 
 His home, which was always enlivened by his presence : 
 my old room, where he so often visited me ; the society 
 halls, which he always adorned ; the prayer meeting, 
 where he spoke and prayed ; the long and well-remem- 
 bered walks, when we were so free and frank with each 
 other. What a comfort it is to me, and what a com- 
 fort it must be to you, to look back upon so lovely and 
 noble a life. The tears moisten my eyes, when I think 
 of him as cut off in the freshness of youth, with the 
 prospects which his talents and character seemed to 
 warrant, all blasted. But, when I think of the life he 
 lived, and the example he has left us, I am thankful to 
 my Heavenly Father that He ever gave me such a 
 friend to love. His very death is an incentive to me to 
 lead a more useful life. I pray that it may be sanctified 
 to us all. 
 
 "J. L. D." 
 
 His class, at their triennial meeting, held at New 
 Haven, July 29th, 1863, offered the following tribute 
 to his memory : 
 
 '' That in the death of WiLLTAM C. JOHNSTON we 
 have lost a sincere and warm-hearted friend, whose 
 
34 
 
 frankness and generosity, coupled with rare talents and 
 a child-like Christian faith, had endeared him to us by 
 the most tender and sacred ties. That we honor his 
 name and cherish his memory for the self-sacrificing 
 spirit which led him to give up his long-cherished 
 hopes, and bid farewell to the most flattering prospects 
 of usefulness and happiness, just as they were within 
 his grasp, in order that he might serve the country and 
 cause he so dearly loved. That we sympathize deeply 
 with the near and dear ones who mourn his early 
 death, and we earnestly pray that the mysterious 
 affliction which has removed him on whom they leaned, 
 and in whom their hopes centered, may be tempered 
 by infinite mercy to their sad and lonely hearts." 
 
 A suitable monument has been erected over his grave 
 by the kindness and efforts of the officers of the 13th 
 Reg't Ky. Vols. 
 
 We are again indebted to Mr. Munford for the valu- 
 able services tendered in superintending the erection of 
 this monument. 
 
 We must now leave that which was mortal of our 
 once animated, buoyant William, lifeless in the cold 
 
135 
 
 grave at Munfordville, and follow his spirit upward, to 
 mansions prepared for those who love God. 
 
 If the great company of weeping mothers in our 
 land — weeping because their sons are not — were asked, 
 '* Is the Country's life worth the price ? " their sorrow- 
 ing hearts might not be able to say " Yes ; " but a voice 
 from the grave might respond for them, '' It is worth the 
 price you have given." Notwithstanding the blood 
 flowed freely, and the Country's life is above price, yet 
 our hearts know in bitterness we give a priceless price. 
 Let bereaved mothers, and fathers, too, and all people 
 who lift their hearts to God, pray and labor that war 
 may cease, that peace and righteousness may reign 
 throughout our world. 
 
 At the request of his grandfather, a funeral sermon 
 was delivered in Granville, O., on the 2ist Dec, 1869. 
 by his nephew, Rev. Timothy W. Howe, of Petaskala, 
 O. We give an extract from the closing remarks of 
 the sermon. The text may be found Psalms, cxvi, 15. 
 
136 
 
 '' With the Christian's last enemy, the great battle 
 was fought on the field of Calvary. The prince of life 
 and glory met him there, and turning his own weapons 
 against him, vanquished him. True, indeed, the victor 
 died, for it was by death alone that death could be 
 overcome. But the victory, the conquest, was thereby 
 none the less complete, none the less glorious. Every 
 victory over death, since that eventful triumph, has 
 been but the fruit of that first glorious victory ! 
 
 *' It is our Lord Jesus Christ who, having first gained, 
 now giveth us the victory. The Apostle John saw in 
 vision * a great multitude which no man can number,' 
 who had through him triumphed over death. Had we 
 been present, when he, whose funeral rites we, this day, 
 celebrate, met the king of terrors, it need not be 
 doubted, from what we know of his manner of life, that 
 we should have witnessed another triumph. We can 
 conceive how it was. There appeared, methinks, no 
 conflict in the case, death made no show of resistance. 
 He seemed to give up at once, he did not even look 
 formidable. The victor remembered Calvary, and we 
 apprehend death remembered it, too. 
 
 '' In fact, he has never recovered his spirit to terrify 
 believers, since that memorable conflict on Calvary, 
 which proved so disastrous to his cause ; and he never 
 will. Our young brother had much to live for; he was 
 of that age to which, of all others, the world presents 
 
137 
 
 the greatest allurements, the strongest attractions. His 
 kindred, the Church of God, and a bleeding country, all 
 were calling loudly for his strongest sympathies, and 
 devoted services. And most manfully and magnani- 
 mously was he responding to these imperious calls. 
 But there was a voice to be heard above them all, say- 
 ing, ' Come up higher,' and who can doubt that the 
 love of life left him, as he heard this summons, and that 
 the fear of death departed ? By nature he loved this 
 life, and by grace he loved life eternal. That death 
 scene was sorrowful and gloomy, but the sorrow and 
 gloom were manifested by those only who surrounded 
 his dying couch. He was calm and composed. In 
 his case, as in all cases of true believers, death suffered 
 a defeat ; indeed, was swallowed up in victory. Can 
 such victories be ascribed to nature ? By no means. 
 Are they the triumphs of philosophy ? Certainly not. 
 They are the achievements of heavenly grace alone. It 
 is the religion of our Lord Jesus Christ which van- 
 quishes, which overcomes, and which triumphs in death. 
 This glorifies the Lord of Glory and renders ' the 
 death of the saints precious in the sight of the Lord.' 
 * The death of his saints ' glorifies the Lord by its in- 
 fluence on surviving relatives and friends. 
 
 " The hand of the Lord is laid upon them heavily, and 
 they realize it ; they call for sympathy. But the Lord 
 himself becomes their refuge in such trials. The name 
 
138 
 
 of the Lord they find to be a strong tower, into which 
 they may enter and be safe from the power of affliction. 
 When Christians feel right, they can adopt the language 
 of Job : * The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken 
 away, and blessed be the name of the Lord.' — ' Though 
 he slay me, yet will I trust in him.' Such declarations 
 of faithj such exhibitions of submission to the will of 
 God, honor and glorify the riches of His grace in the 
 sight of an unbelieving world. 
 
 " We can see what strong ground for comfort is af- 
 forded to the parents and kindred in the early removal 
 by death of one so dear. Though young in years, Wil- 
 liam seemed ripe in experience. We can adopt the 
 language of Dr. Young with all sincerity in regard to 
 him, ' Many fall as sudden, not as safe.' 
 
 '* * Servant of God, well done ! 
 
 Rest from thy loved employ : 
 The battle fought, the victory won, 
 
 Enter thy Master's joy. 
 
 " ' Soldier of Christ, well done ! 
 
 Praise be thy new employ ; 
 And while eternal ages run. 
 Rest in thy Saviour's joy.' " 
 
sfr/ €r^^-L- L C<^/y^ < 
 
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RECOLLECTIONS 
 
 OF 
 
 MY FATHER 
 
 1772-1871. 
 
 **And thou shalt go to thy fathers in peace; thou shalt be buried in a 
 good old age." — Genesis, xv. 15. 
 
 NEW HAVEN. 
 1876. 
 
These recollections of a venerable father, together 
 with extracts from his letters, were penned by one of 
 his daughters, in the hope that his grandchildren may 
 take pleasure in their reading, and receive some benefit 
 also from the valuable lessons to be drawn from the 
 events, precepts, and example of his long life. 
 
 M. C. Howe Johnston. 
 
 New Haven, Conn., May 1st, 1S76. 
 
Extracts taken from a family record written by my 
 father, Curtis Howe : 
 
 " My Grandfather, John Howe, was born in Lon- 
 don, England, in the year 1650. He came to this 
 country some time after he became a man, purchased a 
 farm in New Haven, Connecticut, and acquired a hand- 
 some property. He was married at the age of sixty 
 years to a lady of nineteen. My father, Ephraim Howe, 
 was their youngest child, and was born in April, 1730, 
 his father being at that time eighty years old. My 
 grandfather Howe died in the ninety-fifth year of his 
 age. My maternal grandmother was the daughter of 
 Caleb and Lydia Seward. My mother, Damaris Sew- 
 ard, was born June 8, 1740. 
 
 '' My grandfather Seward died in Chester, Mass., aged 
 ninety-two. He was distinguished for his conscientious, 
 Christian deportment, and was considerably so as 
 
a politician. He was elected once or twice to attend 
 the general Court at Boston, Mass., and was called Dr. 
 Seward. 
 
 '' My father and mother, Ephraim and Damaris, were 
 married December 2, 1756; father in the twenty-ninth, 
 and mother in the seventeenth year of her age. 
 
 " I was born at Granville, Mass., East Parish, May 
 lOth, 1772. My father and mother lived together 
 nearly half a century and belonged to the Congrega- 
 tional Church. Father held the office of deacon. He 
 died at the age of seventy-seven years. Mother ling- 
 ered many years to mourn his loss, and died at the 
 advanced age of ninety-six. 
 
 " Curtis Howe and Sibble Phelps were married May 
 10, 1798. It was fortunate for me to find a companion 
 so well qualified to accompany me along the rugged 
 path of life. I might have looked in vain for a better ; 
 and although separated many years by her death, her 
 many virtues are fresh in my memory, and I trust will 
 not be forgotten to the day of my death." 
 
 My mother was born in Suffield, Ct. Her father — 
 grandfather Phelps — spent most of his life in Springfield, 
 Mass. In the decline of life he removed to Vermont, 
 
my mother then being about twenty-four years old. 
 She and a brother remained there, but her parents 
 soon returned to Springfield. My mother died July, 
 1843, aged seventy-one. She had long been expecting 
 death and would often say, ''How great a thing to die and 
 go into the presence of God." Her faith was strong that 
 God would fulfill His promises to all who come to Him 
 through Christ. In His hands she could leave her chil- 
 dren and children's children to the latest generation. 
 
 Our early home was at Swanton, Vt. My mother's 
 brother, John Phelps, went with his family from Ver- 
 mont to Granville, Ohio, leaving his second son, Gama- 
 liel, in Vermont, who, in time, was to join the family 
 at Granville. As the time drew near for his journey 
 there, his elder brother, Ralph, was sent to take 
 him home. Ralph met Gamaliel at our house in 
 Swanton, and after visiting a few weeks, made pre- 
 parations to leave with his brother for Ohio, when 
 he was stricken down with typhoid fever and died in a 
 few days. His brother Gamaliel, sorely bereaved, could 
 
8 
 
 not be comforted. To him all nature was wrapped in 
 gloom. He said of the bright moon: *' How beautiful 
 it would look if Ralph were alive !" He, too, was taken 
 with the same fever, and very soon was laid in the 
 grave by the side of his brother. The death of these 
 two young men, at the age of twenty-three and 
 twenty, just on the eve of being united in the 
 family circle, was a sudden, heart-rending stroke 
 to their family and friends — a mysterious provi- 
 dence to short-sighted man. I well remember their 
 sickness, death, and funerals. Three score years 
 have gone by, but these events are still strongly 
 pictured in my mind. At Ralph's funeral, Gamaliel 
 was seated near the head of the coffin which contained 
 the lifeless form of his brother. My parents and other 
 mourning friends formed the sad company ; their 
 grief was the greater because of those bleeding hearts 
 in that far-off home in Ohio. Aunt Fuller was there, 
 serene and composed, trying to comfort others. Dr. 
 Strong, of St. Alban's, preached the funeral sermons. 
 
The text at Ralph's funeral was, " And ar, It is 
 appointed unto men once to die," Heb. ix. 2'] ; at 
 Gamaliel's, '* Fear God and keep His commandments," 
 Eccl. xiii. 13. After each funeral, I stood by Aunt 
 Fuller while she folded the pall which covered the coffin. 
 
 My parents had five children, three daughters and 
 two sons. As yet, death has not called for any one of 
 us, and we remain an unbroken circle of brothers and 
 sisters, the youngest being 68 years of age. 
 
 My father was a farmer. He chose a rough coun- 
 try and cold climate for his home — Swanton, Vt,, almost 
 reaching the Canada line. Ledges, rocks, and stones 
 covered nearly half the farm. The little valleys and 
 meadows were thrifty ; in the latter we picked delicious 
 strawberries. The snow drifted so high that we could 
 jump on our hand-sleds from the chamber windows and 
 slide swiftly to the bottom. Our father came in from 
 the storm looking like a snow man. We seem to see 
 him and our mother Jioiv as we saw them tJicyi, sixty 
 years ago, in and around that old Vermont home — out 
 
10 
 
 father plowing, sowing, reaping, threshing, gathering in 
 the hay, the small corn, the little wheat he raised, the 
 vegetables, the fruit. We see him in the garden, at the 
 well, in the house, the barn, everywhere. Our mother, 
 hard at work with her daily duties, carding, spinning, 
 weaving, etc. We see them, too, grieving over their 
 smaller losses, as when " Old Red," the fat cow, died ; 
 when the horse, '^ Old Pomp," fell lame ; when the little 
 lambs b'ecame sick, and father brought them into the 
 house for mother to nurse ; and when, one morning, 
 six fine sheep were found dead in the lot, killed either 
 by bear or wolf. We children followed the narrow 
 road by " the Great Oak," passing Mr. Owen's, Mr. 
 Abie's, Mr. Brooks', to Missisquoi River, crossed it in 
 a little canoe, and climbed the rolling bank, where men 
 were pushing down the great pine logs, of which they 
 made a floating raft. On top of the bank we picked 
 the winter-green plants, with their pretty red berry, and 
 carried them home to mother and Aunt Bathsheba 
 Phelps, who were very fond of them (Aunt Bathsheba 
 
II 
 
 married Mr. Fuller, of St.Alban's). We went to the 
 maple-tree hill, and when father " sugared off," as they 
 called it, we made snow-balls, and poured the thick, 
 boiling syrup upon them, to see it turn into candy. 
 We had lively times in winter ; sleigh-riding, snow- 
 balling, sliding down hill, with plenty of tumbles in the 
 snow, and many, many social visits among the old and 
 the young. Father did not set his heart upon storing 
 earthly goods. He often repeated to my mother the 
 lines — *' Man wants but little here below, nor wants that 
 little long." He fully believed in industry, honesty, and 
 economy, however ; and with the help of our energetic, 
 persevering mother — who did not object to an abund- 
 ance — succeeded, with the blessing of God, in acquiring 
 quite a little property before leaving Vermont^ though 
 he met with many disappointments and reverses. 
 Once, for instance, he came very near losing all he had 
 by becoming security for a friend. The creditors sold 
 his cattle, confined him to the bail limits, and attached 
 his farm. This almost broke my mother's heart ; but 
 
12 
 
 then, in after years, I heard her say that she could not 
 leave her old Vermont home till she had acknowledged 
 to her Heavenly Father that all the ways in which He 
 had led her had worked for her good. 
 
 In the discipline of his family, father was firm and 
 uniform ; was opposed to most public amusements, 
 especially dancing: did not favor our attending the 
 shozvs (menageries) to see caged animals ; said their 
 owners disregarded the commands of God, by being 
 unmerciful to the beast. His children were allowed 
 all recreation and amusement which he considered 
 compatible with moral and religious principle. We 
 might play blind-man's buff, or fox-and-geese, if we 
 took a white kernel of corn for fox, and red ones for 
 geese. He bought us no toys. We hopped up and 
 down at the sight of a new schoolbook. 
 
 In the family was a young woman from Springfield, 
 Mass., named Emily Kent. She lived with us till she 
 married, and remained in Vermont after we left. Father 
 also had an adopted son, who came into our family 
 
13 
 
 when an infant. He had him baptized, and gave him 
 his own name for a middle one, calHng him Hiram 
 Howe Davis. When he had grown to be a young man, 
 Hiram left us, married in Ohio, and is now in Browns- 
 ville, 111. He has six children, and twenty-four grand- 
 children. 
 
 Father encouraged education. He was a good 
 scholar, for his day, in all the common branches. He 
 taught school in Swanton several winters, and in the 
 evenings he would give his children lessons in penman- 
 ship, setting them copies with his own hand, drilling 
 them, also, in the spelling of — Ail : to be troubled ; 
 Table, etc. Under this home training, his children im- 
 proved, much to his satisfaction. Sometimes he would 
 rig up his large sled, drawn by oxen, and drive a com- 
 pany of children several miles after sunset, to attend a 
 spelling school. Among other things, he was well 
 versed in the history of his country. For over eighty 
 years of his life he was personally interested in its 
 movements. He was active and conscientious in the 
 
14 
 
 performance of civil and political duties, always very 
 careful as to what sort of a man he was influential in 
 putting into office. On the slavery question he had 
 but one mind — that every man should be his own 
 master. 
 
 Mother became a church member soon after her 
 marriage. My father, when quite a boy, was desirous 
 of uniting with the church in Granville, Mass., but the 
 officers of the church thought him too young, and ad- 
 vised him to delay it for the present. He began to 
 doubt as to whether he had really met with a change 
 of heart, and did not make a public profession of 
 religion till he was sixty-five years old. All his chil- 
 dren united with the church before he did. Ministers 
 would ask him if he did not deem it his duty to profess 
 Christ before men. His pastor, Dr. Benjamin Wor- 
 cester, used to tell liim he was '^ planting thorns for his 
 dying pillow." On communion seasons he did not 
 leave the church, but would retire to a back seat, 
 apparently one of the most serious-minded men in the 
 
15 
 
 house ; and he told mother often it was hard for him 
 to stay away from the table of the Lord. But his not 
 belonging to the visible Church did not hinder him 
 from living the Christian life. He gathered his house- 
 hold for family prayer, taught his children by precept 
 and example to fear God, who searcheth the heart, and 
 instructed them in the Scriptures, many parts of which 
 they committed to memory. One chapter was the I2th 
 of Romans, which we recited in a class, each repeating 
 a verse in course. He was eminently a peace-maker, 
 and would refer us to the i8th verse of this chapter, 
 saying: '' Impossible as it seems to be to live in peace 
 with all men, we must try hard to do it." The Com- 
 mandments, Christ's Sermon on the Mount, and the 
 Shorter Catechism, were among our prominent Sabbath 
 lessons. 
 
 Father was an excellent singer. He led the choir 
 in Swanton for a long time, and in the absence of the 
 minister, read the sermons to the congregation on the 
 Sabbath. His house was the home of passing clergy- 
 
i6 
 
 men, mother, as well as he, highly prizing their visits 
 socially and religiously. Our parents were great read- 
 ers, especially on religious subjects. On rainy days, or 
 at odd times, father would read to mother. There were 
 not many daily newspapers in those days, but they had 
 books of all kinds — ** Pilgrim's Progress," "Baxter's 
 Saints' Rest," " Watt's World to Come," " Emmon's 
 Sermons," ancient and modern histories, Milton's 
 works, etc. ; and sometimes they indulged in lighter 
 reading. Mother would now and then get hold of 
 what, perhaps, she would call a " religious novel," and 
 read straight along till she reached the end. They 
 were much interested in the first Home and Foreign 
 Missions, and took the Missionary Magazine. Mother 
 would read them over and over, telling us about 
 Brainard and Elliot among the Indians, of Oobookia, 
 at the Sandwich Islands, and of Asaad Shidiak, of 
 Syria, not knowing she had a little future mission- 
 ary by her side all the time. 
 
 As was the custom in those days, father kept 
 
Saturday evenings. Sabbath night our neighbors 
 would step in, and, with our father for leader, sing a 
 number of old-fashioned tunes. Our uncle Amasa, 
 would be there, with his wife, who was a very fine singer. 
 The closing pieces would often be *• David's Lamen- 
 tation," and the '' Farewell Anthem. " Mother could 
 not sing at all ; father would sometimes ask her to 
 lead the "Counter," which she would try to do while 
 knitting; then afterwards he would playfully remark 
 that the Counter didn't quite chord. After apples, 
 and a glass of cider, the company broke up. 
 
 At times father was overseer of the poor ; on his visits 
 to them, he met with mothers, and infant children, who 
 were homeless, and he did not rest until they were com- 
 fortably provided for during the severe part of winter. 
 He was also sometimes guardian for orphan children. 
 One orphan said, after she was grown, that if all guard- 
 ians were like Mr. Howe, that class of children would 
 suffer less than they often do. As far as means would 
 allow, he was full of works of charity and benevolence. 
 
i8 
 
 In 1818, we made preparations to remove to Gran- 
 ville, Ohio. To take us on our journey, we had two 
 large wagons ; to one of which two yoke of oxen were 
 attached, and to the other a span of horses. The 
 morning we left, our friends and neighbors assembled 
 in our front yard, where, after a prayer by old Mr. 
 Owen, whose silvery locks waved in the breeze, we 
 bade them good-by — good-by, also, to the ledges, the 
 meadows, the old oak-tree, the orchard, the sugar- 
 maple-trees, and all round about that was dear to us, 
 and set our faces toward the West. We journeyed 
 seven weeks, and it was often with difficulty, we could 
 prevail upon the scattered farmers to give us a night's 
 lodging. They said they had put their houses off the 
 road on purpose to get rid of travelers, and still they 
 would be troubling them. Part of the way we had the 
 company of another traveling family. Father did not 
 travel on the Sabbath; the others said they could not 
 afford to stop, but the next Saturday night we were up 
 with them. On reaching Granville, my father met his 
 
19 
 
 brother Amasa and family, and many old friends from 
 Massachusetts. He purchased a farm near his brother's, 
 but itneverseemedhalfsoniceasourold Vermont home. 
 The winters were mild, and the mud deep, no sleighs, 
 no sleigh-bells, no glee. Father, however, could " farm 
 it " with more facility than in Vermont. The soil was 
 more pliable ; not so many stones in the way ; not such 
 long icy winters ; everything flourished ; and our father, 
 industrious and frugal, prospered in his worldly goods 
 more than heretofore, so that in his old age he had 
 enough and to spare. He was not dependent on any 
 one, which added much to the quiet and comfort of his 
 last days. His children all married in Ohio, but not one 
 of them is in that State now, nor any two of them' 
 in any State. They are scattered from the Atlantic 
 to the Pacific Coast. 
 
 The youngest daughter in the family, Marianne, 
 married Rev. Thomas P. Johnston, who was a Mis- 
 sionary under the American Board, from 1833 to 1853. 
 They went to Turkey, Asia Minor. 
 
20 
 
 We give extracts from her father's letters, written 
 mostly to her, during her stay in Turkey, and after 
 her return to America : 
 
 Granville, Ohio, Sept. 12, 1845. 
 
 " Your father is still alive, and in good health. He 
 has a strong desire to see those dear grandchildren, 
 who have never set eyes on the native land of their 
 parents. We hear of severe troubles at Trebizond, of 
 late." 
 
 **Mr. Little ^ is still with us, preaching to good 
 acceptance. Our religious meetings are well attended, 
 especially on the Sabbath, the social meetings not so 
 well, the monthly concert, rather better than others. " 
 
 Speaking of mother's death, which occurred while I 
 was in Turkey, my sister says : 
 
 ** The last days of our mother were peaceful. She 
 was uncomplaining, suffered much and suffered pa- 
 tiently, oh, how patiently ! If we ever meet, I shall 
 tell you many things I cannot write. How many 
 times she said, I have everything I need, and you to 
 take care of me !*' 
 
 * Rev. Jacob Little, then Pa.stor of the church at Granville, Ohio. 
 
21 
 
 Writing, in 1846, on the same subject, a friend says : 
 
 •' I well remember your mother on the morning you 
 left for Turkey. You bade her not weep for her 
 daughter, but she heeded you not. The tears stole 
 silently down her wrinkled cheek. She visited us often 
 before her death. Her mind and conversation dwelt 
 upon eternal things, and she never left us without some 
 instructive remarks. 
 
 " A few months before her death, she came in a car- 
 riage alone. After resting on the bed, perhaps an hour, 
 suffering from her numerous debilities, she arose and 
 commenced conversing in her usual heavenly strain ; 
 asked mother if she thought we should know each 
 other in heaven, etc." 
 
 Father adds : 
 
 ** Your sister, B., has spoken of your dear departed 
 mother. She has left a world of sorrow and pain to 
 enter into the employments and enjoyments of the 
 pure in heart, in a world where sin and sorrow are not 
 permitted to enter. 
 
 " Your sister Bancroft and family have returned to 
 Granville, the climate of Missouri having proved detri- 
 mental to their health. Curtis remains in Missouri. 
 Ceha is to be married in a {qw days. 
 
 My health remains good, rather remarkably so. I 
 
 i( 
 
22 
 
 am still able to do business, and perform some labor in 
 the harvest field, and am comfortably situated with 
 your much beloved sister, B." 
 
 To his son-in-law, Mr. Johnston : 
 
 " I rejoice to hear that Marianne's health is somewhat 
 improved, and that she is inclined to remain in the Mis- 
 sion. I hope it has not been in vain that you have 
 labored so long in this self-denying work. We hope 
 that the fruits of your labor may be seen and felt a 
 hundred years to come. Indeed, it seems the fruits are 
 already seen, as we read in the Missionary Herald that 
 a church is organized in Trebizond. May it flourish 
 abundantly, and outlive all opposition and persecution. 
 ' Cast thy bread upon the waters.' Much faith is re- 
 quired in such a field of labor." 
 
 ''Dec, 1846. — Dear Daughter: Once more I sit 
 down to write you a few lines — they may be the last. 
 You speak of returning home ; I believe it is best. The 
 anxiety and care of a missionary life, together with the 
 constant wants and education of your large family, are 
 more than should be required of one whose constitution 
 is so broken down as yours appears to be. 
 
 " We have been afflicted with sickness during the 
 whole summer and fall. It has been chill and fever. 
 
23 
 
 I hope, as winter comes on, the conaplaint will wear off. 
 For a man of my age, this has been tedious to bear. I 
 wish not to murmur at the dispensations of Providence, 
 when I know that His strokes are fewer than my sins, 
 and lighter than my guilt. May we all be sensible that 
 afflictions do not spring from the dust, and may pain 
 and sickness be a lesson of instruction to us, that we 
 may learn where our dependence lies ! 
 
 " We have heard, this morning, of the death of Hiram 
 Howe, Daniel's son. He was at Cleveland, O., attend- 
 ing the medical lectures. His death was very sudden, 
 and very afflicting to his parents and friends. 
 
 "While conversing with Hiram, to-day, he said: 
 ' You must say a few words to Marianne for me, in your 
 letter. Tell her that / say it is best for her to come 
 home and stay a year.' He appears very anxious to 
 see you, and says he would receive your admonitions 
 and advice with far different feelings than when you 
 were at home. He wishes you to write him. It would 
 be gratifying if you would write, and direct to him. 
 
 " I read, again, that persecution rages very severely 
 at Constantinople, and the missions around there. But 
 we know that the arm of the Lord is stronger than the 
 arm of persecution. Therefore, it may be hoped that 
 Christianity may still prevail." 
 
 In the following note, father speaks of a box of cloth- 
 
24 
 
 ing, etc., which the ladies of Granville sent out to the 
 Mission: 
 
 " The box is almost ready, and is estimated to be 
 worth fifty dollars. It goes, I trust, with the prayers 
 and hearty good will of all, that it may reach you in 
 safety, and be the means of rendering you and the 
 suffering poor around you, some little relief. You will 
 receive, by the box, many letters and papers. I some- 
 times cherish the hope that I may yet have the pleasure 
 of seeing you, and your dear family, in your native 
 land." 
 
 Speaking of his grand-children, he says : 
 
 '' Munson and Curtis play well on instruments. One 
 on the bass viol, and the other on the double bass. 
 Edgar is learning to play on the violin ; so that you 
 may expect, when you visit us, to be saluted with mu- 
 sic in both ears. Marianne sings a good many tunes, 
 pretty correctly." 
 
 "June 10, 1852. — The loth of last month was my 
 eightieth birthday. This, in some cases, would be an 
 excuse for not writing. But I shall hardly feel autho- 
 rized to shield myself under this; for, you see, my hand 
 does not tremble so that I cannot write legibly, nor do 
 
25 
 
 I feel that old age, as many are disposed to think, ne- 
 cessarily brings second childhood. I may be mistaken, 
 but I feel mentally pretty sound. 
 
 " I visited your brother Mark's family a few days 
 since at Zanesville. I found them comfortable, but 
 deprived of his company. He thinks of settling at 
 Marysville, Cal. So far he has had poor success in 
 piling up gold, but his health is much improved. 
 
 " Albert Sturges has gone on a mission to the South 
 Sea Islands. He says you asked him when he was a 
 very little boy, just before you started for Turkey, if he 
 would not be a missionary, and he said he would ; and 
 now he says, ' I wish you would tell her I am gone.' He 
 is a promising young man. 
 
 " Your sister Lucy takes care of her two little 
 grandchildren, and their father sends her gold for her 
 reward. Dr. Richards died this spring. His death was 
 occasioned by a fall from his barn-loft. Dr. Bancroft is 
 doing great things in his water-cure establishment." 
 
 In May, 1853, Mrs. Johnston, with her eldest daugh- 
 ter, arrived at Boston, and went on to Granville, Ohio. 
 She writes of her visit there as follows : 
 
 " My father was the first to greet me. He had 
 changed but little, except that the gray locks were 
 
26 
 
 snowy white. My first walk was with my father, to my 
 mother's grave. In spirit, we felt that the wife and 
 mother was with us. My two eldest children saw their 
 grandfather of eighty years for the first time. In stat- 
 ure their heads were above his ; I trust they received 
 his blessing. I met many old friends, but many are 
 gone not to return. Sister Lucy (Mrs. A. A. Bancroft) 
 has grown old faster than her father, but is as active as 
 ever. My rides with sister Bathsheba, Mrs. J. Hillyer, 
 with whom my father resides, were most pleasant, a real 
 luxury, after so long a separation. My brothers, John, 
 Mark, and Samuel Luke, I have not yet seen. My 
 nephews and nieces are nearly all men and women. Mrs. 
 George Derby, and her little Florence, came on with us 
 from Auburn, N. Y. On my return East, I spent a 
 little time with my niece, Mrs. E. M. Palmer, at Buffalo, 
 N. Y. She had recently buried her husband, and her 
 infant daughter, Anna, is fatherless. After a few months 
 the remainder of our family arrived from Turkey, and 
 we found a temporary home at Salem, Mass." 
 
 My father writes again, July 19, 1854: 
 
 '* I have just returned from the funeral of Dr. Eager. 
 I visited him a few days since. He complained of 
 weakness, but was able to be about and converse freely. 
 I little thought it was the last time I should hear him 
 speak. Capt. Canfield likewise died yesterday. They 
 
27 
 
 were both eighty-one years of age — about one year 
 younger than myself. This should remind me that 
 the time of my departure is at hand, and indeed all 
 around me shows that my days are fast being numbered ; 
 and yet, it does not seem to alarm me much, not as 
 much, perhaps, as it ought. The text to-day was, 
 ' I know, O Lord ! that Thy judgments are right.' My 
 health is much improved since last year. I am now 
 able — and find it very necessary — to help in the field 
 considerably. 
 
 *' Mrs. West is here and will take to California the two 
 grandchildren, and probably the two little boys that 
 are with Lucy. Fanny is home safe from Iowa. What 
 does old Salem say of the Kansas-Nebraska bill ? We 
 feel the time must be hastening on when slavery must 
 come to an end. If the salt you speak of is still to be 
 found, let us hope that our country may yet be saved. 
 •* You see that your father's hand is still able to guide 
 the pen, while the hands of my cotemporaries, one after 
 another, are becoming stiff and cold in death. I am 
 still able to attend their funerals, but expect the time 
 will shortly come when my friends will be called to at- 
 tend mine. May this consideration suitably affect my 
 mind. Tell the children their grandfather wishes much 
 to see them before he dies. Mark is still in California 
 hunting for gold. If he is so fortunate as to secure the 
 pearl of great price, it will be far greater riches. 
 
28 
 
 "Your uncle Howe is now over eighty, and is still 
 able to get about pretty well. Hiram Davis lives near 
 him. His family is nearly as numerous as yours. 
 Cousin Timothy is at Etna. Emmons is with Mark. 
 Cousin Daniel's folks live on the old place. Uncle 
 Hiram Rose attends church pretty regularly. Aunt 
 Achsa's faculties are much impaired." 
 
 In 1856, Mr. Johnston's family removed to New 
 Haven, Conn., and their second son, William, entered 
 Yale College. 
 
 His grandfather writes, Sept. ist, 1857: 
 
 " It gives me pleasure to think that your children are 
 being trained up — as I hope — in a good degree, in the 
 way they should go. And, I can but strongly hope and 
 trust they are all doing their best to improve the privi- 
 leges they enjoy. Let me say to them all, ' These are 
 golden hours.* Martha is already teaching, and I can- 
 not but admire her courage. William, I think, is acquit- 
 ing himself well in his college course. I like his plain 
 round-hand writing. I have to thank Henry, likewise, 
 for his short but comprehensive letter. I think he is 
 making good improvement. Let him continue in well- 
 doing. If he could be with me through the rest of 
 vacation it would please me well. Lucy continues her 
 
29 
 
 habits of industry and economy. Ashley's constitution 
 is much broken down. They have probably made their 
 last earthly remove, so that whenever you visit us, you 
 will visit them also." 
 
 ** June 19. — We are glad you are having so good a 
 time with your cousin Emily and her little Anna. This 
 will be a fine treat, and to be valued highly by the chil- 
 dren on both sides. We have been having a good time 
 with Celia and her little flock ; and we now rejoice with 
 her that the goods are so safely, so timely, and with so 
 little damage, arrived. Her furniture is rich and most 
 of it quite useful ; some, indeed, that I should not so 
 much admire. But you know that I am an old-fashioned 
 man — at least half a century behind these railroad times. 
 The furniture is put up in style in the newly and well 
 repaired house, and the new and well-finished rooms, 
 and they are now ready to receive company. I have 
 had the pleasure to take tea with them once, under the 
 new arrangements. I have received letters from 
 Samuel. Elizabeth is some better than common. The 
 friends in California seem to be in good health 
 and spirits. ^ ^ * You see I am not 
 
 sending you money enough to increase your pride 
 greatly, but it may eke out your means a little 
 for the time being. If I knew any rule for polite 
 invitations I would use it to invite Mr. Johnston 
 
30 
 
 to bring you here on a visit ; but, as I have not, I 
 must do it through you in the old way. I am unable 
 to invite him personally, for I know not where to direct 
 a letter so that it would reach him.* Martha should be 
 commended for her untiring devotion to the comfort of 
 her mother and the younger members of the family 
 She will have her reward. I hope your health is im- 
 proving. It is no trifling matter to have charge of a 
 family, to provide for their daily wants, to see that every 
 child is rightly trained, morally, religiously, and scien- 
 tifically ; each must be duly attended to. You speak 
 of William's going to Kentucky to teach. In the pre- 
 sent excitement, is it safe for Free State men to go 
 South to reside ? I could not advise a friend of mine 
 to go there. Your brother Mark's son, Converse, writes 
 occasionally. His daughters appear to be improving 
 well. Mark Hillyer writes often from Kansas. He is 
 much pleased with the country. Let me be remem- 
 bered with the most tender affection to the children. 
 Tell them it is my hearty desire that every one of them 
 be good and obedient." 
 
 To his grand-daughter, Martha Hall, November 23, 
 1858: 
 
 " When I find myself delinquent, and have no very per- 
 
 * Mr. Johnstou was then agent of the American Bible Society in Mississippi. 
 
31 
 
 manent excuse, I have to turn it over to old age and 
 I see no better way to settle the matter with you : so 
 with this, and hearty thanks for your kind letter, I will 
 go on. 
 
 " Now that Thanksgiving is just at hand, I hope we 
 shall all be ready to feel and express our gratitude to 
 our Heavenly Father for all his unnumbered blessings 
 bestowed upon us. Melissa will be with us, and Celia, 
 with her three little girls, and indeed all uncle Ashley's 
 family; and would I could say that Martha, her father 
 and mother, her brothers and sisters, could consistently 
 be with us, to enjoy the luxury of a family visit ; but, 
 as this cannot be done at this time, let me send greet- 
 ing to you all, hoping you may all abound more and 
 more in that lovely grace of gratitude." 
 
 Of a grandson on his way to California, he writes : 
 
 " We hope you will see Albert soon ; he can tell you 
 about the revival. May a watchful Providence be over 
 him, through all his long and perilous journey, and may 
 his mind not be diverted from the great and most im- 
 portant subject to which it has been especially directed 
 for the few weeks past. 
 
 " Did ever a returned missionary have as good cous- 
 ins as yours? What kindness they manifest in their 
 correspondence and the gifts that accompany it! Well, 
 I trust you know how to appreciate all their kindness, 
 
32 
 
 and let me tell you, you have two sisters here, that love 
 you, and have hearts to do you good. The time seems 
 long since you left for the North. Remember me affec- 
 tionately to Mr. Johnston ; tell him I thank him very 
 much for his note — especially, as he has written one that 
 I was able to read." 
 
 Granville, Aug. 26, 1858. 
 
 ''Dear Granddaughter: — I am happy to be able 
 to answer your very kind letter, and perhaps a little 
 more so, as I see the dear name of Sibble in the signa- 
 ture ; it brings afresh to my mind the name of your 
 grandmother, of precious memory. If you knew her 
 virtues as well as your grandfather knew them, you 
 would revere her memory, although you never saw her. 
 It brings tears to my eyes, now, as I write, to think of 
 the great loss I suffered in her death fifteen years ago. 
 You speak of the comfort I may have in living here, 
 where I may often see so many of my descendants. It 
 is pleasant, indeed, and if those dear ones in New Haven 
 were added to the list, and those in Iowa, and California, 
 and Kansas, it would seem to fill up the measure of joy 
 to overflowing. But, being deprived of this, every let- 
 ter I receive from any of them helps to make up the 
 deficiency, and I hopej/^z^ will not fail to do fully your 
 share of it. And now let me congratulate you on the 
 pleasantness of your home, and the superior advantages 
 you enjoy to secure a good education, and I indulge 
 
33 
 
 the assurance that you are improving your time well. 
 And while you are rapidly advancing in the different 
 branches of science, let me advise you not to forget or 
 neglect to secure a competent knowledge of the com- 
 mon branches of domestic life. A lady with all the 
 advantages of a refined education, who knows nothing 
 of the art of house-keeping, will be very apt to make a 
 miserable figure in the world, I trust yoii will not be 
 found one of this stamp. 
 
 " With the hope we may yet have the happiness of a 
 personal acquaintance. 
 
 " I am your grandfather, 
 
 ** Curtis Howe. 
 
 '' Mary Sibble." 
 
 He says to his grandson Henry : 
 
 " So you have fairly entered the students' ranks ! 
 Well, I hope you will be able to act well your part. 
 Your company of one hundred and thirty would almost 
 be sufficient for a military company, and I hope you 
 will climb the hill of science as courageously as ever a 
 company of soldiers went up to the field of battle. 
 Study faithfully, but do the best you can to preserve 
 health. Exercise freely in the open air. If you would 
 saw wood a while every day, it would do you good ; at 
 any rate, do something that will bring every joint and 
 3 
 
34 
 
 muscle into motion. But I suppose your parents and 
 teachers will attend to this. Tell Martha she must 
 excuse me for not answering her kind letteratthis time, 
 and tell Virginia her grandfather will not forget her. I 
 must thank them both for the presents. I have not seen 
 Melissa yet, but it is said she looks very well." 
 
 ^' Last week, and the week before, our time and at- 
 tention has been considerably taken up with the vari- 
 ous preparations, ceremonies, and parties, incidental to 
 a wedding. Mark has chosen his companion and they 
 have joined hands, and we hope hearts also. They bid 
 farewell to their father's home, and to their friends, to 
 seek their fortune in the prairie land of Kansas. How 
 are the boys getting along in college ? I hope you will 
 not encourage them to study so hard as to injure their 
 health. Your sister B. will write when she gets rested 
 from the fatigues of the wedding. 
 
 " Hubert is here now visiting with his parents, his 
 sisters, and all the little cousins. His business is in 
 New York and Boston. What does M. do about going 
 South ? How can you spare her? It seems as though it 
 would break you up. What of the frost in your State ? 
 Over a very great extent of country, herein the West, 
 the loss is immense. One man told me yesterday, their 
 loss in wheat would be at least three hundred dollars. 
 Let your epistles be continued. I am much pleased that 
 the children write to me ; I hope they will continue to 
 
35 
 
 do so. How fast the years roll round ! These many- 
 years since you left for the old world have passed like 
 a dream." 
 
 Aug., 1858. 
 
 Dear Grandson : — So you are fast becoming a 
 man of science ? Well, I hope you may be, or continue to 
 be, a distinguished student, and that you may justly 
 be as highly esteemed for your good name as a Chris- 
 tian, as for your high attainments in learning. You enjoy 
 a precious privilege. Don't you think that if your 
 grandfather could have spent, when a boy, four or six 
 years, in a school like that in New Haven, he would 
 have been able to write you a much better letter than 
 this ? But let me not forget to thank you for your last. 
 It is written in just the manner that an aged grand- 
 father likes to see, in that plain, beautiful style, that I 
 could read as well as print. You will remember that as 
 I am advancing in age, my eyes grow dim, and the 
 most plain, elegant, old-fashioned writing, looks to me 
 the best. As you expect to teach a while, I hope you 
 will feel the responsibility you are under, to do your 
 best, and do your pupils all the good you can. 
 
 " Your affectionate grandfather," 
 
 '' Curtis Howe. 
 
 "William Curtis." 
 
 '' It is now half past nine ; I have fed about seventy- 
 
36 
 
 five chickens, tried to catch one, but failed, sawed a 
 little wood, pared some apples, pumped water, and am 
 now seated to write you a letter ; ain't your father 
 smart ? '* 
 
 As father advanced in years, his children, grandchil- 
 dren, and great-grandchildren (those that were near), 
 gathered together on his birthday, offering their con- 
 gratulations and gifts, and thanks to their Heavenly 
 Father, that grandpa had been spared another year, 
 and praying that his health and life might be prolong- 
 ed, for years to come. They read letters from distant 
 family friends, made speeches, sung old tunes, etc., etc. 
 But the best of all was grandpa's speech to them. These 
 seasons he enjoyed wonderfully. Naturally social and 
 warm-hearted, he craved the society of kindred and 
 good old friends, more and more. 
 
 In the following note he speaks of one of these festi- 
 vals^ as he called them : 
 
 '' June 21, 1859. 
 "■ The picture you sent was exhibited before the 
 Grand Festival. Some of the younger ones wrote 
 
37 
 
 beautifully. I intend to copy what they wrote into a 
 little book, that it may be seen in time to come. * * I 
 believe that I sometimes acknowledge your favors, yet 
 I do not remember of ever expressing my thanks for 
 the handkerchief. It was received, and is a precious 
 gift, and may be seen in my hand every Sabbath-day 
 at Church. Try to conform your feelings to the day ot 
 small things, and rest assured that your father loves 
 you, and will try to do you good. I hope all those 
 dear grandchildren are striving to be shining lights in 
 the world." 
 
 "Granville, Aug., 1859. 
 
 *' Dear Daughter: — A few weeks since, I was ap- 
 pointed by the officers of the Licking County Bible 
 Society to distribute and sell Bibles in our district. I 
 was presented a report of the parent Bible Society. 
 This is quite a large pamphlet, and in looking it over, 
 I found Mr. Johnston's report, away down in the dark 
 regions of the South." 
 
 " I could but think, when he described the destitution 
 and poverty of the people, that his field must be em- 
 phatically a hard one ; nearly, if not quite, as hard as 
 it was when he was a missionary, and stoned by the de- 
 luded inhabitants of Aintab. Let us sympathize with 
 him in his self-denying work, and pray that his labors 
 may not be in vain. 
 
38 
 
 ** Is there anything more delightful to contemplate, or 
 to be engaged in, than in these acts of charity toward 
 our fellow men ? O benevolence ! the richest blessing 
 of earth ; may its influence rest in rich profusion in the 
 heart of every member of our family, from children to 
 grand-children, and to all my descendants, to the latest 
 generation, in all time to come. And oh ! how precious 
 is a spirit of forgiveness. May we all be so happy as 
 to possess this spirit, and to carry it out in our lives. I 
 always look for your answer soon. Tell the children to 
 think of their grandfather. If I could be with you 
 when Frontis and his father are there, I think it would 
 be one of the best visits of my life ; but I cannot an- 
 ticipate this pleasure. 
 
 " Now it is high time for me to close. 
 
 *' Your affectionate father, 
 
 ^' C. Howe. 
 "Marianne." 
 
 ** The goodness of our God is manifested towards us. 
 We have a goodly heritage. In the midst of these dis- 
 tressing and unnatural war times, we are permitted to 
 enjoy comparative peace and quiet. I feel grateful to 
 my Heavenly father that in my old age I have not only 
 spiritual comforts, and the best of friends, but am 
 blessed with a competency of the good things of this 
 life. How many old people, when they are deprived 
 
39 
 
 of property, are cast away by those that ought to be 
 their stay in the decHne of Hfe ! I endeavor to use 
 prudence and strict economy, that I may be able to 
 assist my children, and do good to the suffering poor. 
 
 " Molly is teaching music in Reynoldsburg, but earns 
 money slowly, as many of the people feel poorly able 
 to support their daughters in a music-school. I was 
 not very well yesterday, and am not well to-day. I 
 could easily have excused myself from attending 
 church — still I went. I am doing as you said, fixing 
 my clothes for winter, and find it somewhat expensive. 
 Henry Rose, son of L. Rose, died lately at or near 
 Vicksburg. D wight has left Helena, Ark., on an expe- 
 dition to Little Rock. How, and where, is Henry? 
 The soldiers should not be crowded to hard duty this 
 excessive hot weather." 
 
 In 1862 Mrs. Johnston again visited her father in 
 Ohio. He grew old slowly, appeared just about as 
 young as in '53, stepping about in his ninety-first 
 year, gathering fruit, etc. She was with him in the 
 orchard, filling the baskets with apples, which he 
 shook from the tree. Such a treat she had not had 
 for years and years. His business matters were kept 
 
40 , 
 
 in the best of shape, owing no man anything. At 
 peace with all about him, at peace with God, he evi- 
 dently realized in full measure the spirit of the text 
 he always liked to quote : ^' Godliness with content- 
 ment is great gain." He attended nearly all the weekly 
 and Sabbath meetings. I had not heard him pray and 
 speak in conference meetings before. It was comfort- 
 ing to see him feel at home with the people of God. I 
 know he was happier than when he stood outside, 
 alone. He had a Bible-class of women, most of them 
 over fifty years of age. His mind was active, his inter- 
 est increasing in things at home and abroad, as years 
 rolled on. He read a great deal — would hardly lay 
 down the newspaper till he had read it through — by 
 course. His second sight had come, and he could read 
 without glasses. He was doing little jobs about the 
 premises; part of the time at work in the field ; kept a 
 horse and buggy for his own use ; took care of his horse 
 himself, and in no wise believed in second childhood. 
 Mr. Johnston's sons, William and Henry, entered the 
 
41 
 
 U. S. Army in the fall of 1862. While with her father, 
 Mrs. J. heard of William's death, from pneumonia, at 
 Munfordville, Ky. He was Chaplain of the Thirteenth 
 Regiment, Kentucky Volunteers. Grandpa deeply 
 mourned, and while we were speaking of the early 
 death of his grandson, I saw him brush away a tear. 
 He was not given to weeping. I hardly ever in my life 
 saw him shed a tear. 
 
 Mrs. J. returned to New Haven in July, '63. Before 
 she left Granville, Mr. and Mrs. Hillyer spoke of going 
 to California, perhaps to remain there permanently. 
 The question was, whether our father could stand such 
 a trip. His daughter said if father could not go, she 
 could not. Never were a father's and daughter's hearts 
 more closely united than theirs. Grandpa made up his 
 mind to go. 
 
 On the eve of starting for California, he says : 
 
 " We are closing up our business as fast as we can, 
 and must finish within twenty-four hours. We have 
 been on the stretch for several weeks, so that your 
 
42 
 
 sister has frequently been tired out ; but now her 
 labors of this kind, for a while, are nearly at an end. 
 So, you see, one scene after another, is passing away, 
 and we shall all soon pass away. How infinitely impor- 
 tant to be ready ! 
 
 ^* I have just come in from my last visit to the orchard, 
 that I took so much pains to plant and to prune. It 
 was rather a mournful parting and farewell. Still it 
 seemed cheerfully to greet me with its delicious fruit, 
 which was very thinly scattered on its branches, but 
 amply sufficient to satisfy all that my appetite could 
 desire. 
 
 *' It is a scarce year for fruit about here, yet we have 
 had plenty, and would have had some for you, had you 
 been where you could lay your hand upon it. Please 
 see the inclosed. I hope it will help you along. I 
 had intended it should have been more, but our ex- 
 penses will waste away our funds, so that I do not 
 know that I shall ever be able to add to it. 
 
 **I am on the point of starting on an expedition — in 
 magnitude and shape very different from any, that, in 
 my long life, I have engaged in before. How it will 
 terminate no one can tell. So I have to submit the 
 whole matter to Him who doeth all things well, and 
 overrules all events. 
 
 *' Have the lamented Willie's goods arrived? I must 
 say farewell. It may be for the last time, but I hope 
 to hear from you on the Pacific Coast." 
 
43 
 
 He stood the voyage quite well, and writes : 
 
 ''San Francisco, Cal., May 25, 1865. 
 -You see I am now in this city. We have made a 
 long visit here with our relatives and friends. Hubert's 
 book establishment is very large, and is always full, 
 as they have arrivals very frequently. His books have 
 a very wide circulation. Curtis is practising law in Vir- 
 ginia City, Nevada, and all reports say he stands high 
 as a lawyer. Edgar has lately been promoted to 
 Lieutenant-Colonel." 
 
 '' Auburn, Placer Co. 
 '* Your letter was received on the nth. So you see 
 the birthday had but just passed. On the whole, I 
 believe the company were well pleased with the doings. 
 The repast was not sumptuous, but quite comfortable. 
 It was a little too early for fruit, but we got, at a pretty 
 smart expense, a good dish of strawberries. The pre- 
 sents were numerous and costly. All these things call 
 forth my warmest thanks. The climate here is pleas- 
 ant, and the water where we are is good. If any one 
 wishes to come here to get rich, he had better get rich 
 before he comes. 
 
 '' We are at present on a little ranch belonging to 
 Curtis Hillyer, and have fruit of different kinds. It is 
 rather a sterile place, yet there is something pleasant 
 about it. It is a great comfort to feel that I have 
 
44 
 
 friends, even those whose society I am not permitted 
 to enjoy. May we have a happy meeting in that 
 better world where parting is no more ! I was very 
 glad to hear from Henry. Where is Oscar? Can 
 Henry inform me respecting him? Daniel Rose — 
 Ormand's son — was killed in battle." 
 
 On his return from California he visited many places 
 of interest in New York city. His grandson, A. L. 
 Bancroft, who accompanied him, says : 
 
 " We went to Cooper Institute, Bible House, Astor 
 Library, American Missionary Association, office Prin- 
 cipia, etc., and took dinner with Dr. Barlow." 
 
 His grandsons, Oscar and Henry, were also with him 
 
 part of the time. 
 
 From Kansas he writes : • » 
 
 ''Grasshopper Falls, Kansas, July 4, 1867. 
 
 ^' When we arrived here last March, the season was 
 wet, and continued so a number of weeks. It made 
 me feel gloomy and uncomfortable. But since the 
 spring has fairly opened, the face of things is altered. 
 
 ** Mark is emphatically a business man. We are filling 
 150 sacks of corn for the Topeka market. He has 100 
 
45 
 
 head of cattle and horses, and had got in 60 acres of 
 wheat, when the grasshoppers came and — swept it — so 
 that not a single plant can be found. 
 
 "Last Saturday was the church meeting for prepara- 
 tory lecture. Our letters were presented, and we were 
 all received as members of the Congregational Church 
 in this place. Yesterday was Communion Sabbath. I 
 had the satisfaction to receive the elements from the 
 hand of a beloved grandson. How very grateful I 
 should be for this token of Divine favor. It brought 
 tears from my eyes as we were returning from church. 
 The Testament Albert ordered at New York is a most 
 precious gift. A blessing upon his head for it. Your 
 letters cheer us ; please send us more of them. It is 
 hard for me to write with my dim eyes ; still, I like to 
 receive letters just as well as if I could ansv/er them." 
 
 He had come to the table of the Lord with members 
 of his family to the fourth generation. His heart over- 
 flowed with gratitude that God had so blessed him and 
 his seed after him. 
 
 "May, 1868. — Martha's kind letter was read with a 
 bundle of others on the birthday. Let my thanks be 
 expressed to Mr. Walker for his kind remembrance of 
 an aged grandfather he never saw. We sang the tune, 
 'Old Bristol' — it was sung when I was in the Quire 
 
46 
 
 in old Granville, Mass. — * The lofty pillars of the sky/ 
 etc. It is equal to the best tunes sung at this day. 
 The closing piece was the ' Pilgrim's Farewell.' 
 
 " Oct. I. — Your brother and sister Hillyer have been 
 quite sick. Hannah, too, and her little boy are great 
 sufferers. Sometimes these things are a little hard 
 on me, but I have not a word of complaint, for I 
 am blessed with mercies." 
 
 On the death of an infant great-grandchild, he 
 says : 
 
 *'Aug. II, 1870. — The deep affliction M. speaks of 
 is the sudden death of the youngest of her four boys. 
 How very uncertain are all our dearest treasures ! Our 
 nearest friends, and even the little one that is loved 
 so dearly, as in a moment may be snatched from its 
 parents and leave them to mourn, almost refusing to 
 be comforted. We mourn with them ; we pray for 
 them, but cannot restore their lost one. May this 
 affliction teach them not to set their affections too 
 strongly on any earthly good." 
 
 The following extract was addressed to his nephew. 
 Rev. T. W. Howe, of Petaskala, Ohio. The letter is 
 one of the last he wrote, about two months before his 
 death : 
 
47 
 
 '* Grasshopper Falls, Nov. 12, 1870. 
 
 * ' To my Well-beloved Nephew : 
 
 " Rev. and Dear Sir : — A good while ago I had the 
 pleasure of seeing a letter from your hand, to our 
 friends in California. It carried me back many years 
 in a moment of time, and seemed, as it were, to set my 
 feet on years of sixteen, eighteen, twenty, and so on ; and 
 when my thoughts were there — on the stretch — they 
 were much inclined to travel hastily over many years, 
 away back to 1780, '90, and 1800, bringing to mind 
 some things pleasant, and many heartily to regret. 
 Now I think how I would like to go back and rectify 
 them. But, as this cannot be, I have only to repent 
 and reform. This I am endeavoring to do, and consider 
 it a great privilege. I rejoice to hear that you are still 
 pursuing your labors in the Gospel, and that your work 
 may be done with less fatigue, being concentrated. 
 May your labors be crowned with your highest expec- 
 tations and hopes ! 
 
 " So brol her Daniel * is gone ! He had a very laborious 
 life, and a very useful one. Let us endeavor to imitate 
 his many virtues. With regard to my promise to write 
 you, I will confess my fault at once, and beg pardon, 
 though I do not distinctly remember it. Many diffi- 
 culties and troubles have occupied my mind since 
 
 * His brotlier Amasa's eldest son, who died at the age of eighty- 
 one years. 
 
48 
 
 I left our pleasant home in Ohio. We have now 
 rather a pleasant home in Kansas, a Congrega- 
 tional church, a meeting-house, and minister; but we 
 need, very much, more members, and much more vital 
 piety. We have plenty of worldliness — intemperance, 
 and other kinds of wickedness; still we hope for better 
 times, and must endeavor to do our part in so desirable 
 an object. Much respects to your family. 
 
 *' Very respectfully, 
 
 '' Curtis Howe. 
 - Rev. T. W. Howe." 
 
 On finishing the writing of his Family Record, in 
 
 1857, at the age of 85, he remarks : 
 
 *' Here I close this imperfect sketch. Goodness and 
 mercy have followed me all the days of my life ; and 
 now, may the little time I have to live, testify to the 
 gratitude I feel for these manifold blessings." 
 
 After a short illness, father died at Grasshopper Falls, 
 Kansas, January 16, 187 1, aged 98 years and 8 months. 
 His grandchildren — as we have the record — number 
 twenty-seven ; his ^r^^i'-grandchildren, fifty ; and his 
 great, great, grandchildren, four. 
 
 *' Yea, thou shalt see thy children's children, and 
 peace upon Israel." Ps. cxxviii.