4* ' tZOk % *u •< V <* ■y ^ ° x '"Mill*" **° v * :*SB§^ ^ °* v ***** * : * • ••, *« A v . o V *<*0« <•<* 'Cf*V V ft,'"* <^ ^ A v *jf o ^ V .. .' ^\ "bV a,* --• ° • .» ' ^° ■ft Slr/rttJL* *tr C -d • 4. • ^ **.. *^V^' .v^ % * /.■ ***** **0« r + t Z* *P w THE ATWATER FAMILY OR 'Truth Stranger Than Fiction" BY BELINDA A. FOSTER EDITED BY LUCY ATWATER BROWN PREFACE TO "PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, OR TRUTH STRANGER THAN FICTION." This work now presented to the public is a tale of truth. The writer has herself witnessed most of these scenes in the course of a long and eventful life. When the young shall read these serious truths they may, perhaps, be led to ponder deeply and consider well how frequently our actions, even here, are either rewarded or punished. There could have been no earthly inducement for the writer to present these facts and sad realities, concerning some who were as dear to her as- earthly ties could make them, save the hope that they might prove as a beacon from the lighthouse of truth to warn others of the dangerous reefs and quicksands in this brief life of ours. The virtuous examples mentioned here are true. The lives of those whose actions are here delineated mere words are inadequate to picture except in faint outline. That they really lived and walked amid their fellow men, setting an ex- ample for good or evil, may perchance influence some who* are now preparing to enter upon the stage of action. While therefore fully sensible of the imperfections of this little work, she nevertheless intrusts it to your kindly notice, praying always for His blessing who is "the Life, the Truth and the Way." Belinda A. Foster. FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER "I pause and turn my eyes, and looking hack 1 see The silent ocean of the past — There shall he A present in whose reign no grief shall gnaw The heart, and never shall a tender tie he broken." — Bryant. My grandfather, Ebenezer Butler, was born in the State of Connecticut. The family were originally from Ireland, and as a race were marked with that quick perception and energy which characterized their forefathers. When the Revolution of '76 broke out, my grandfather was but eighteen years of age. The call was made, after the method of that time, by sending out runners from the city of Boston. The messenger went in hot haste and found my grandfather in the field, plowing, with a yoke of oxen. He immediately left his plow standing in the furrow, drove his oxen to the house, and told his mother the startling news. She went into the house, brought his gun, and said, "Take this, mount your horse, and, if need be, die for your country. Think not of your father or of me — we can work the little farm without your help — though you are our first-born son and have been our great dependence." Away he sped for Boston, and was among the earliest volunteers to reach Bunker Hill. General Putnam was already there. He ordered the boys to defend the hill until the last cartridge in their boxes was spent, "and then," said he, "re- tire in good order. Remember not to fire until I give the word of command, that you may not waste your powder." My grandfather said his knees trembled so much that he could scarcely stand. He stole a hasty glance about him to observe the appearance of his fellow soldiers. Every man was white as a ghost. General Putnam reverently lifted his sword and implored help from the God of battles. Then came the word of command, "Fire !" and the memorable battle was besfun. 10 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER The man who stood by my grandfather's side was shot dead instantly, his brains falling on his hat. Whe^i the ammuni- tion was spent, their brave commander led them from the hill, amid shouts of victory. Grandfather remained with the army until stricken down \ with camp fever. Washington afterward changed his head- quarters, leaving his sick and wounded, however, well cared for. As soon as able, grandfather went home. In the reck- lessness of army life Ebenezer had learned to swear. His good mother thought this the very climax of wickedness and was greatly troubled. He was their eldest son and so an example for the rest of the family. Well did she know that unless he abandoned this dreadful habit he could never inherit a blessing. What could be done? She talked the matter over with his father and they decided to seek advice from an aged aunt who was known for miles around and most highly respected. I well remember hearing my grandfather tell this circum- stance to my mother when I was a child. He said it was a bright moonlight night and he was lying awake on his pillow, gazing intently at the moon. About twelve o'clock he saw a tall figure dressed in long, flowing white garments gliding slowly into his room. In relating it to my mother he said : "I was not afraid of old Nick himself, and never did believe in ghosts. So suddenly it occurred to me that my mother must have told my aunt to make her appearance in this garb. The form, like hers, was tall and graceful, and very dignified. I watched until satisfied that it must be really her, but con- cluded to feign sound sleep. She then called me in a solemn tone, 'Ebenezer,' but the only answer she received was loud and continued snoring. After repeated calls she said : ' 'Nezer, you are not asleep ; you may as well hear what I have to say, and I shall say it whether you hear or forbear.' Then I burst out laughing and told her, Tf I had been a believer in ghosts I should certainly have thought you were one.' 'Well,' said she, T have come to tell you that you can not know how grieved I have been to hear from your mother that you take God's name in vain. Because you fear not man, will you have no fear of your Maker, who has said, 'Thou shalt not /•./.I///.)' MF.MOIRS .//'//". /■/■/■ A' II take the name o\ the Lord thy God in vain, for he will not hold him guiltless who taketh his name in vain'? His threatenings are indeed fearful, and not to be despised. Now I want you to promise me solemnly, before I leave this bed side, that with God's help yon will forever renounce this terrible sin. Remember, my dear boy, that trusting in your own strength yon can do no good thing. I!e not too proud to humble yourself before the Almighty King of Kings and ask His pardon and grace for the future.' I was fully convinced that she was right and then and there gave her the desired promise, and never from that day have I even wished to break my vow. I feel truly thankful that throughout my life, whenever my judgment has been convinced of error, I have had strength given me from above to turn away from the evil." After the war was over my grandfather married a Miss Rebecca Davis. This family came originally from Wales and made their home near one of the small lakes in western New York. In after years, when speaking of his wife, he always called her his "angel Rebecca." When a child I saw a picture of her profile. This is said to be the most trying view of "the human face divine." Indeed, it indicates the true char- acter far more plainly than any other view. The outlines of her mouth were faultless. The eyelashes were long and you could almost picture the mild blue eye they shaded. My mother said that she never remembered seeing her even ruffled in temper or spirit. She had a large family, six daugh- ters and two sons. Slavery was at that period permitted in the State of New York. And slaves are always the most trying help even when they do their best. Grandfather was never obliged to correct his slaves, for his uniform sternness ot voice, look and manner held them in awe. Mother said she once heard one of the house slaves called Ton}' say to her father, "Strike me, massa, but don't look at me." At one time when my grandfather came home from a journey he found that some special order had been neglected. Galling his wife, he said to her in haste, "My dear, why have you not attended to this as I requested?" She made no answer. Im- mediately he went out and upon further inquiry found that 6 12 FAMILY MEMOIRS— AT WATER she had made every effort toward it, but had failed owing to the faults of others. Quickly he returned, sought his wife and, folding her in his arms, begged her forgiveness. As he turned away my mother said that she noticed the tears falling upon her cheek, but the same sweet smile illumined her coun- tenance as she calmly resumed her accustomed duties. The sick and afflicted were by her never forgotten. Many a delicacy did she prepare for them with her own busy hands. The eldest daughter was shortly after attacked with a disease prevalent at that day, affecting the tonsils and palate, and to many it proved fatal. My aunt finally recovered, but lost the use of her natural speech, owing to the decaj^ of some organs of the throat. Not being able to pronounc words, she made peculiar sounds and talked mostly by signs. ] My grandfather's farm lay just between two tribes of Indians, the Oneidas and the Onondagas. As she was remarkably bright, they at first thought she was trying to imitate their language. Then my grandfather, becoming alarmed, called in the family physician. He examined her and told them the! true state of the case. They then thought perhaps a teacher in the house might be able to instruct her in the language. For two years he labored faithfully, but mostly in vain. He taught her to write her own name, the meaning of a few words in the Bible, and some other little things, of which she was always very proud. The name of "Jesus" she knew' wherever she saw it, and even in her old age would kiss it with the greatest veneration. Both parents naturally re- garded her very tenderly on account of her infirmity. If her sisters ever ventured to complain of her, or treat her with! harshness, they were always reminded that she was their unfortunate sister and so deserving of their forbearance and tenderest care. Grandfather was at one time appointed land agent fo| that portion of the State. This called him often away from home, frequently to the large cities. When he returned h uniformly brought the family handsome presents. Once when in New York city he met a cousin who had just returned from China, bringing with him many choice and costly, silks. Grandfather purchased superb patterns for each of hid FAMILY MEMOIRS- .ITU .ITER 13 daughters. He allowed the deaf sister to make the first choice, and, although deaf, she had an exquisite taste for the beautiful. She chose the loveliest, a pale blue silk, very heavy, elegant and chaste. After her each sister took her turn according to age. He brought up all his children in the strictest sense of what he considered right — insisting upon a thorough knowl- edge of the Catechism and daily reading of the Bible. His house, indeed, was always called "the Clergyman's Home." I loved to hear him tell, in his old age, with great pride how he used to have the minister examine his daughters in order concerning the Catechism, and the one who excelled the rest was always praised most highly. At one time the clergyman was giving them a lecture on pride, greatly condemning it, when my grandfather spoke out in his abrupt way and said, "No, no ; I want my daughters to have pride, but it must be that laudable pride which will lead them to do their best at all times." Grandmother, by her own method of signs and sounds, told my deaf Aunt Martha all the most interesting stories of the Bible, and after we removed to Ohio she would endeavor to repeat them to us children. Above all, she delighted to tell us about the death and resurrection of our blessed Lord and Saviour. Whether she fully understood its exact import I know not. They were also required on going home from church to tell the text of the minister and something of the sermon. Grandfather never tired of descanting upon the matchless beauty of the Bible, and as each one grew old enough she was encouraged to read it daily, and when it was finished some valuable present was given. My grandmother's health was always frail, and to lessen her cares grandfather begged his own mother to take charge of my mother, Belinda Butler. She was too young to send away to school and his mother was rejoiced to take charge of her. She was then about seven, and she remained there until nine years of age. It was of great advantage to her, as her grandmother gave her special care and delighted in teaching her in every way possible. She taught her to repeat 14 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER the one hundred and third Psalm, "Bless the Lord, Oh, My Soul," and even when my mother was nearly seventy she could repeat it perfectly. When seven years of age a very dear uncle made a little chest with his own hands. On the outside he had placed the English coat of arms in gold leaf, "the lion and the unicorn, fighting for the crown." He prom- ised her that when she had completed the reading of both Old and New Testaments this chest should be her's. She accordingly did so and became the proud owner of the chest. She always preserved it as a choice memento, but told me she would give it to me on the same conditions upon which she had received it. I did not rest after this promise, and when about seven years old I claimed it as my own. It has now passed into other hands, but is still a precious memento of those olden times. Mother, in speaking of her grandmother, said that she had always thought her handsome until one day some one remarked to another friend in her hearing, "What a pity Grandma Butler is such an uncommon humbly woman, for she is so good." When she went home she took a good look at her grandmother and found it was indeed the truth. One excellent rule her grandmother always practiced. After her regular morning work was done she always dressed herself neatly and then, before commencing any undertaking for the day, she sat down with the Bible and read a chapter reverently. Sometimes a maiden daughter, Dessie, would say to her, "Now, mother, don't you think we have too much to do today to take the time to read?" "Dessie, my dear," she would say, "there will be work enough for us to do every 'day as long as we live, but I shall never fail to do this work, for it is to me by far the most important." At another time when grandfather returned from the city he brought my mother a beautiful little book bound in red morocco, with gilded leaves. It was "Dr. Gregory's Advice to his Daughters," and had been printed in England, gotten rip in a style then unknown in this country, as art was in those days only in its infancy here. The print was that of those early times, having the old-fashioned "f" for "s" and the last word at the bottom of the page reprinted underneath. FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATU'ATER 15 It was some time before I learned to read it intelligently, the meaning" being in some parts beyond my childish com- prehension. Mother was often puzzled to convey it to my mind. But the modesty he recommends to the young, and especially to the female sex, I shall never forget. Then, too, grandfather gave my mother a large locket set in a gold case, with a ring at the top on purpose for a chain or ribbon to pass through in order to wear around the neck. On one side was a painting most exquisitely finished. It represented a beauti- ful young girl dressed in the fashion of those days, with her hat and plumes resting partly on one side of her head, a short cloak hanging loosely about her delicate form, thus adding to its sylph-like grace. In the background was a farmhouse on a little rise, while at the foot of the hill flowed a silvery brook. Woods and sky alike lent their charms to this inimi- table little picture. As a great treat mother would occasion- ally permit me to wear this locket suspended from my neck by a blue ribbon. "Fond memory brings the light Of other days around me." I would here like to describe one of my mother's loveliest youthful friends as she often pictured her to my imagination in the days of my childhood. Electa Jerome was the daughter of a Presbyterian clergy- man. My mother often said that when she thought of her she was half inclined to believe in the doctrine of perfection. As she was nearly the same age as Electa, she saw much of her in every situation of her busy life. She inherited her grandmother's almost matchless beauty, form and figure com- bined. But the chief beauty, after all, lay in Electa's charac- ter. She possessed an intuitive sense of propriety under all circumstances. As she was the eldest of a large family, and the daughter of a clergyman, she of course had to contend with straitened circumstances. To her the parents looked for constant help and comfort, and also sympathy. When her mother was sick Electa moved about ever lovingly amid the younger children, and her commands seemed alwavs joy- fully obeyed. No matter where she was called, or what was to be done, Electa was ever ready — not in the least affected 16 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER with that sickly timidity, which often in the most trifling emergency says in pretended delicacy, "Oh, I can not." And yet she was the antipodes of that bold and forward spirit which asks no advice from age and experience. Mother said it mattered not what she wore, for the very moment she attired herself therein it became invested with a surpassing charm. Her father, being a clergyman, never of course per- mitted Electa to go to public balls, but to all the little home circles of private dancing he allowed her not only to go, but often attended her himself. It was the fashion of those days to wear the hair combed back from the forehead and turned over a high roll, then powdered to look like snow. In the middle of this roll was placed a black velvet band covered with spangles of silver. At one of the last parties my mother ever met her, Electa wore her hair dressed in this way. She wore in addition three snowy white ostrich plumes set daintily on one side of her beautiful head, the spangles glittering like silver on the black velvet band. Her dress was of faultless white, with short sleeves, displaying an arm and hand which were fit models for a sculptor. Added to this she wore a train in the fashion of that day. She was indeed crowned the peerless queen of the evening. And moving gracefully along in the mazy dance, she seemed like some fairy being sent down from other skies. When the feathery plumes nodded in graceful dignity it was as though Electa was in- deed doing homage to her youthful friends. Yet in the midst of all the admiration she excited, she never appeared in the least elated, or unduly conscious of her charms. She shortly after engaged herself to a gentleman of the neighborhood ; one, however, far from being her equal in mind or person. But after some months had passed she was stricken down with a fatal disease. The physician soon pronounced her case hopeless. All their skill was exerted to save her, but with- out avail. They then informed her of her true condition. She heard the news with wonderful composure, said adieu to those she so fondly loved, sent for the gentleman to whom she had plighted herself, placed their engagement ring on his finger, and bade him when he looked upon that token of her love to remember her, and, placing his trust in Him who FAMILY MEMOIRS— AT WATER 17 said "I am the resurrection and the life," endeavor so to live that he might meet her in the far world of bliss. Some years after this gentleman met a lady whom he thought resembled Electa, and asked my mother if she did not agree with him. She told him she could perhaps trace a faint outline of re- semblance, although as she thought far inferior in point of beauty or grace of manner. Me, however, was so impressed with the fancied resemblance that he married her. The union proved a most unhappy one. Soon after this my grandfather went into the milling busi- ness and also bought a store. He was shortly after elected a member of the Legislature and then made Judge — quite a dis- tinguished honor in those early days. He employed in his business a number of clerks. Among these was a young man who fell in love with my deaf Aunt Martha. She had now reached womanhood and though she conversed in her own peculiar way. mostly by signs, she was quite graceful, pretty, -and apt to learn. She returned the affection of her lover and the)' asked the parents' consent to their marriage. But they for some reason were deeply opposed to the union. My aunt, "however, had been indulged too much all her life to brook •opposition now. It finally preyed upon her health to that ■extent that the family physician told her parents they must either lose their daughter or give their consent. When this was given she rapidly recovered her health and they were married. My grandfather owned a small farm and he placed them on this. My aunt took great delight in the occupations it afforded — making butter and cheese and raising poultry. An active nature found full employment, and being of an affectionate disposition she was now very happy. Upon the advent of a daughter, my mother was called upon to furnish it a name, and being an ardent admirer of Shakespeare, she -chose the name of Juliet. She was a bright and beautiful •child and their cup of happiness seemed full to running over. My grandparents had in the meantime formed an intimate acquaintance with a minister's family living in Connecticut whose name was Gilbert. About this time Mr. Gilbert wrote them, telling them he would be glad to have his daughter pay them a visit. Receiving a cordial invitation, she accord- 18 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER ingly came, full of life and innocent gaiety. After making a lengthy visit she returned to her home, where her parents, almost idolized her. Some months after they wrote the sad news of her melancholy death, with all the particulars. Lydia (for that was her name) had retired to her chamber one night apparently in her accustomed health. About one o'clock they were startled from a sound sleep by hearing some one singing loudly. They listened intently and were convinced that the sound came from their daughter's chamber. The father struck a light and hurried up to the room. It was indeed her voice, but she was a hopeless maniac. Without cessation she continued to dance and sing until entirely exhausted. The physician came and administered his most powerful opiates,, but without avail. Everything that science could suggest, or the most devoted care could supply, was resorted to, but all in vain. She knew neither parents nor friends and continued her maniacal screams until death came to her relief. Being an only child, and reared in luxury, she had been the idol of the household and it was many weeks before the heart-broken parents could even write the sad story. They had the con- solation of believing that for her the exchange had been a happy one, as she had long been a devout Christian and lived a life of purity and goodness. In pursuing her education her brain had doubtless been overtaxed and this was the result. They could only bow submissively to the mysterious Provi- dence who "doeth all things well." There were but few institutions of learning of any special note in those early days. But one had then been opened somewhere near the home, called Clinton Academy, now Hamilton College. This institution was intended for both sexes, and here my grandfather sent his daughters. Young ladies at that day were not taught advanced mathematics or the classics, but I rejoice that now sex is no barrier to woman. She is free to attain the highest instruction of which the mind is capable. At this academy they, however, taught the English language in its purity, ancient and modern history, elocution, oratory and literature, with all the solid branches. My mother always favored the plan of having both sexes attend the same institution and having their recitations heard FAMILY MEMOIRS AT WAT UN 19 together. It imparted, as she thought, a softness to the sterner sex, whilst in young ladies it produced a strength of •character which added greatly to their nobleness and wom- anly graces. The essays they were required to furnish and speak in public called forth whatever of genius or imagination the}' possessed, and of course they strove constantly to excel each other. Grandfather had a strong desire to have his daughters educated thoroughly, both mentally and physically. As the keeping of slaves precluded their doing housework at home, he now insisted that during their unoccupied hours at ■boarding school they should each wash and iron their own 'clothing. Often did he say to them : "Who knows what may be in store for you in the future? You may yet be called upon to go into the far West, where help can not be obtained. How important, then that you should learn those habits which may yet be called into requisition. I want you to be •prepared for whatever in God's providence may be before you." Another regulation he enforced in the family was this : That every child after five years old must make an appearance at the breakfast table unless positive sickness prevented. If too unwell to remain up they might then go back to their room and bed. For all of these excellent habits my mother thanked him long after he had gone to his rest. After a few weeks' vacation they returned again to the acad- emy until their education was fully completed. At the close ■of the term their preceptor singled out the most finished ■compositions of each pupil and required them to learn and •deliver them at the public exhibition. This gave them con- fidence in themselves. After my mother and sisters had been at home for about two years there came into their vil- lage a young gentleman who shortly commenced paying •attention to the sister next in age to my mother. He pro- fessed an ardent love for her. but was unfortunately of a roving disposition. He had left college without the knowl- edge of his parents. Grandfather, however, remembering his former trouble, decided to give his consent to their marriage. The young lover then said it was necessary to return to his "home in order to make preparations for the happy event. Accordingly he did so, leaving my aunt in good spirits and 20 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER full of ambition. They all volunteered to help her in pre- paring for her new and untried life. Even the linen was spun and woven for table use, the blankets and coverlets made,, and the furniture purchased. A set of exquisite china also was ready for the joyful occasion. But day after day passed and yet no tidings from the expected bridegroom. Grand- father finally wrote to his father in Connecticut, inquiring the reason for this long delay. He received an answer, saying that this was the first news he had received concerning his son since leaving college. My aunt still hoped against hope and for two long years she looked for his return. At last, however, she concluded that some accident must have surely befallen him. His parents never after heard anything of him,, and my aunt's life for many years was saddened by his strange desertion. The beautiful china grandfather had pur- chased for her he afterward presented to my mother, and she brought it with her when she came to Ohio. Many a time in my childish days have I looked at this delicate ware. The roses and buds on the tiny cups looked as natural as though they had grown there. The cream pitcher was of an ex- tremely quaint shape, and that, of all the set, is the only piece which now remains. The set was considered as quite a curi- osity in our far Western home. As I have before said, my grandmother's health had been for many years very frail and precarious. About this time grandfather was re-elected to the New York Legislature. While there another daughter was born, and immediately after grandmother failed rapidly. The physician found that she could not rally, and calling my mother aside he communi- cated to her the sad fact and advised her to acquaint her mother with the truth. She accordingly did so, almost heart- broken as she was. But her mother received the message with her usual composure. Meekly folding her hands, those hands which had done so much for others, she lifted her eyes| to heaven and breathed a silent prayer, while the same an- gelic smile lighted her countenance and illumined her fea- tures. This was near midnight. She then told them to call Toney, the faithful old black servant, have him take their swiftest horses and go immediately to Albany for grand- FAMILY MEMOIRS- ATIVATER 21 father, for, said she, "1 must sec him hefore I die." Next she asked them to bring her precious babe to her bedside. Calling" my mother and the sister next younger than herself, she told them to place it in their arms and give her a solemn promise to care for the little sister now committed to their faithful trust. Then requesting mother to unclasp from her neck the two bands of gold beads she always wore, she gave one to my mother and with her own trembling hands she placed the other on the neck of her infant babe as the last token of her dying love. Mother now inquired if she had any directions to leave for grandfather, as she feared she might not live until his arrival. But she still insisted that she would yet see him. In the meantime she prayed fervently, often repeating this petition, "Oh, blessed Savior, care for my beloved ones and lead them, even though through fiery trials, to Thyself; that we may all finally be united in that happier world where sorrow and death can never come." The phy- sician said it was indeed a marvel that she still continued to linger, but she often whispered to the faithful friends sur- rounding her, "I shall yet see my husband." And her words proved true, for he came in time. Passing directly to her. bedside, he bent over her fading form, convulsed with anguish. She knew him perfectly, and drawing him down she whis- pered in his ear. For a few moments she would pause for rest and then whisper as before, while he would nod as if in assent. This she continued to do until nature was exhausted, and she gently breathed her peaceful life away. Not one word did he distinguish of all she had tried to tell him, but she was satisfied, believing that he fully understood her. She was not forty-five years old and still retained much of her surpassing beauty. As she lay in death a blush as of youth seemed to rest upon her cheek. The} - could never ac- count for this strange phenomenon. As friends and neighbors pressed around to look upon her, robed for her last resting place, they exclaimed, "She is indeed too lovely to be hidden in the silent tomb." How often had they heard her sweet voice uniting with that of their old pastor in singing these words of Beattie : 22 FAMILY MEMOIRS— AT WATER "See truth, love and mercy in triumph descending And nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom, 'On the cold cheek of death smiles and roses are blending While beauty immortal awakes from the tomb." At some distance from the house there was a favorite spot to which in the cool of the evening she would often retire, seating herself in the shade of a large elm tree. Here they laid her, amid the gentle whispering of the forest leaves and the song of the wild birds which she loved so well, and there, while sighing winds chant their mournful requiem above her grave, she sweetly sleeps until bidden by her Saviour to arise on the resurrection morn. Peace to her gentle memory ! Shortly after my grandmother's death grandfather became greatly involved and met with a serious reverse of fortune. His partner in business, a man named Phillips, after many acts of dishonesty, finally absconded, leaving grandfather to meet the liabilities of the firm. This absorbed the greater portion of his fortune and with the little that remained he decided to remove to what was then called the far West, the young and promising State of Ohio. About this time my father presented himself to my mother as a suitor for her hand. She had already suffered a disappointment of the heart and parted forever from the lover of her youth. For him she entertained the warmest affection, and his image indeed was never effaced from her memory. But her beloved mother had passed away, her father was threatened with poverty and forced to seek a home and shelter in a strange land. Under all these circumstances and with her father's advice she de- cided to accept the proposal made her and thus married my father. The union was one of hands, but not of hearts so far as she was concerned. But notwithstanding this, she ever faithfully endeavored to perform a wife's entire duty. Grandfather removed soon after with the residue of his family to Ohio, whither she eventually followed him. It may not be amiss here to give some account of my father's history up to the time of his marriage with my mother. Caleb Atwater was born in the town of North Adams, Massachusetts. His mother died when he was but five years of age. He distinctly remembered the taking of MRS. BELINDA BUTLER ATWATER FAMILY MEMOIRS— AT WATER 23 the first census, and was himself one of the first children to be enrolled. His good mother, before her death, taught him< to repeat verses of hymns, and so faithfully were they en-i graven on his memory that they were never forgotten. His, memory was indeed marvelous, as all who ever knew him- will testify. He has often related to me an. event which made a strong impression upon his youthful mind. A: captain in his native village, with the help of his little com-, pany, captured a squad of British soldiers with their chief officer. He stripped the gayly dressed officer of his uniform and donned it himself; then tying a Tory (as the British were- called in derision) to each of their horses' tails, he marched; the company proudly through the village. He never knew- what disposition Washington finally made of them. : Father lost his two uncles in the Revolutionary War. After the death of his mother, his father went to the State of New York, and for some reason never returned. His- mother, however, had left a small sum of money in charge for her children. The overseers of orphans now cared for them and placed each one in some good family, with written articles binding them until they should become of age. My father was placed in the family of a Squire Jones, who was considered wealthy, but extremely hard and close-fisted. In taking care of the stock in the bitter cold of the winter father had his hands badly frozen, so that they were almost useless 1 for life. They had few amusements in that family. The younger ones employed the long winter evenings in paring pumpkins and apples, running them on strings and suspend- ing them from the rafters of the old kitchen ; and sitting around the blazing log fire they worked faithfully, glad to be sheltered from the howling winter storms without. My: father lived here until his eighteenth year. About that time Williams College became quite a flourishing institution; Many young men of the neighborhood attended there, and my father so longed to go that he persuaded Squire Jones to release him from the remaining years of his indenture. He finally did so, though with great reluctance. His mother's • means now assisted him. His only brother went with him,- and by their united exertions, doing odd jobs of many kinds. 24 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER they succeeded in obtaining the wished-for education. In his later years he lived to tell how often he had lain in his bed on bright moonlight nights, repeating his lessons from memory while gazing upon the grand old mountain tops which lay near, eternally capped with snow. He studied faithfully and strove to obey implicitly every regulation. One severe rule he often mentioned. It was this — that every student was required to be present at chapel prayers at 4 a. m. both summer and winter. Often after a heavy snowstorm they were obliged to clear away the path leading to the college in order that the chaplain could get there in time to read prayers. No fire was permitted in the chapel even in the bit- terest weather. Father throughout a long life retained the habit thus formed in youth of early rising, and in after years, when some one asked him the reason, he answered: "Train up a child in the way he should go, and when old he will not depart from it." He made rapid progress in college, always keeping in the front rank. He graduated with high honors as the valedictorian of his class, receiving both de- grees, and was always proud and pleased to tell of this, for so many failed, inasmuch as the examinations were both thor- ough and searching. He now went into the State of New York and opened a seminary for young ladies, in which he was successful ; studying in the meanwhile for the ministry, he was then ordained a Congregational minister. Soon after he married a Miss Diana Lawrence, a beautiful and accomplished woman. But in one year from the day they were married she died, with her infant son. My father seldom mentioned this passage of his life, and never without much emotion. His health declined after her death and he had several hemorrhages of the lungs, so that his physicians advised him to leave the ministry in order to save his life. Upon his recovery he decided to enter the profession of the law, and was admitted to the bar. Shortly after he met and married my mother. Directly after the marriage a large party was given in honor of the bridal pair. Among the in- vited guests was a Miss Gilbert, an intimate friend of my mother's, who had been highly educated in Boston. For some reason she was unable to attend and, as was the univer- FAM ILY M E MO I RS- -ATWATER 1 - sal fashion of that day. penned an excuse. This little note I now hold in my possession, and preserve it as a greal curi- osity. It was most beautifully written, equal to a copperplate engraving. Her story was indeed a sorrowful one, although at that time her future seemed fairly gilded with sunshine. She afterward married a gentleman by the name of Stone, who was one of the first merchants of the village where they lived. Many envied her good fortune, for he was a man both elegant in appearance and polite in manners, but not a Chris- tion. In a short time he went to the city of Xew York to buy goods and after returning was taken with a severe illness. She nursed him most devotedly, until he finally recovered. During his illness she had a habit of walking out every day for a short time for rest and exercise. Often would she direct her steps to a picturesque spot at the edge of the village. There was a steep bluff overhanging the swiftly flowing river beneath, and here she loved to wander, gazing down into its clear waters. Her friends had of late remarked an unusual melancholy, but still thought nothing special of it. She often brought her sewing here, and it must have been here that she made the dress which served as a winding sheet. She had placed a wide hem around neck, sleeves and skirt. One day as usual she took her walk, and as it proved, she care- fully tied the ribbons placed in these hems tightly about her and jumped over the high cliff into the river, leaving her parasol and bonnet lying on the grass. When her husband went home he looked for her in vain. He then sought the girl and inquired for his wife. She said she had gone to her room a short time before to ask her some question, but lis- tening at the door heard her praying most earnestly. She retired and shortly after saw her going out for her accus- tomed walk. Going back to her room, he found a note on her table addressed to himself. In it she spoke of her deter- mination to commit suicide, adding that life had become to her an intolerable burden ; that he alone knew her reasons for taking this step, and she was certain he would never disclose them. She closed by bidding him an affectionate farewell. He found a friend, and together they fairly flew down to the cliff, as they knew that to be her favorite resort. There lay .26 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW ATE R her bonnet and parasol on the grass, but they called her name in vain. Her husband was frantic with grief and took every means to discover her body. Three days after it was found some miles distant from the spot where she had cast herself. She was the only child of devoted parents, who were almost heart-broken by this sorrow. Her husband soon closed up his business, shut himself up from all society, and shortly after went into a decline and died of grief. The whole affair created a great sensation, enshrouded as it ever must be in the deepest mystery. After my grandfather removed to Ohio, bringing with him his family, my mother was very lonely and unhappy and anxious to follow them. Father had invested his all in a glass factory, which unfortunately was burned to the ground and so both he and his partner were beggared. They then decided to join those who had removed to Ohio. Mother was forced to part with most that she held dear, as my father who had borrowed money to invest in his business was owing heavily. One day the daughter of one of these creditors came to the house in father's absence and cruelly taunted my mother. I was lying a babe in the cradle wearing round my neck the very gold beads which had been left my mother as her mother's dying legacy. She saw these and coveted them, and my mother in a moment of anguish and despair gave them to her. She left the house and mother then fully realizing her loss and sick at heart as the precious memories of the past swept over her, sank down beside my cradle, giving way to bitter but unavailing tears. My father soon after left for Ohio. After he had made what preparation he could he sent word to a cousin of his, who had long desired to see the new State, to bring mother and the children, and join him. I was the second child, my brother older than myself, and my little cousin Juliet comprising our family. We came in a large wagon, and they placed therein all that they could conven- iently carry, as there were but few comforts in the new land to which they were going. And thus, parting with much that made life desirable, mother ventured on her untried journey. Often the roads were so rough and terrible that they feared .the wagon would break down and at such times she would FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER 27 walk for many wear}- miles carrying her little ones in her tired arms. Once during- the journey she missed her pocket- book which contained the only money she possessed and her sole dependence with which to finish the remaining portion of her trip. She had already had occasion to suspect the honesty of the family with whom the}- had been lodging. In her despair she gave way to hitter lamentations, not failing also to hint broadly of her suspicions. On returning to the -pot where it had been carefully concealed, she, to her great joy, found the missing pocket-book and was always convinced that it must have been quietly returned. Be that as it may. she certainly went on her way rejoicing and finally reached her journey's end in peace and safety. Grandfather was now living near the Capitol of the State, Columbus, having bought a farm about seven miles north i in what was called Alum creek. Four unmarried daughters came with him. But two of them had already gone farther into the flourishing town of Lancaster and there opened a school for young ladies. Added to the solid branches, they taught embroidery, fancy work, drawing and painting, in which accomplishments one of my aunts particularly excelled. It seemed with her to be almost second nature to make with her fingers what she admired with her eyes. While thus engaged, a gentleman of the place became greatly enamored of her. As she had no watch and he had an office near the school she frequently sent one of her scholars to inquire the time of day. On one such occasion he enclosed his handsome gold watch in a small package and sent it over by the messenger, begging her to accept the same with his compliments. She immediately returned the gift with her thanks, and a message to the effect that it was against her principles to receive presents of even trifling value, from gentlemen who were merely acquaintances. This only seemed to fan the flame of his already ardent admiration, and he speedily made her an offer of himself which was accepted, and the happiness of a life-time attested the wisdom of her choice. After her mar- riage her younger sister continued the school. But shortly after in attending a social party she met a Mr. Douglas, a young and promising lawyer of the town of Chillicothe. and married 28 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER him. The next eldest sister also united herself to a lawyer of Columbus and thus my mother was made happy by having* her three sisters settled in neighboring towns, and conse- quently near enough to exchange frequent visits and enjoy each other's society. I cannot forbear paying just here a tribute of affection to one who has long since passed far beyond earthly praise or censure. I allude to my mother's sister, Aunt Mary Douglas, of whom I have already spoken. I once asked her husband to relate to me something of his early courtship, and what he saw in her to win his admiration. He said, "It was not that she was so beautiful, although her expression of countenance was strikingly intelligent, and her form both stately and graceful." Indeed, he said he never looked at her without being reminded of Milton's description of Eve: "Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye; In every gesture dignity and love." Throughout a long life she was remarkable for her clear un- biased judgment, her charity toward others in thought, word and deed, her wondrous love of order, her intellectual attain- ments, in which indeed she had few equals, and her happy faculty of imparting to others what she knew herself. Her circumstances in life were such that her exquisite tastes of so varied an order, could be lavishly gratified, and an indul- gent husband spared no pains to meet her wishes in every regard. If she desired books, however rare or costly, they- were obtained and the contents speedily made her own. My mother delighted to point to her as an example for her chil- dren to imitate. She said, that even as a child, it gave her more pleasure to hear Mary relate the contents of a book, than to read it herself. With all these marvelous gifts she was naturally retiring and diffident. Often have I heard my uncle say to her in his enthusiastic way : "Why, Mary, I do not know your equal in anything." Ah, how many good wives need, and hunger for just such encouragement to cheer and stimulate them amid their daily cares and struggles. She was truly "a crown unto her husband" and surviving him by some years she ever cherished his memory with loyal affection. To the poor and needy she was always a faithful FAMILY MEMOIRS- .rnr.IT/-k' 29 and generous benefactor. Iler's might indeed have been the language of Job, "When the ear heard me, then it blessed me, and when the eye saw me, it gave witness to me. Because I delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me, and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy." Let me now return to the family history. Upon coming to Ohio, then a new and formative State, they encountered the miasma consequent upon the clearing of all new settlements. Poverty, sickness in different forms, and the birth of a sec- ond son, all served to increase my mother's cares. When this new brother was born he was so feeble that there appeared to be no life in him. The kind neighbors folded him in a blanket, and laid him aside, to give their attention to the mother, supposing that he could not live. When my father came in he asked to see the boy. "There he is on the bed," said they, "but we thought it not worth while to dress him." ""Oh yes," said father, "put him in a warm bath as soon as possible, and do all you can for him. Who knows but he may yet live and make a fine man." These words were a prophecy, for this son did live to brighten and comfort the last days •of their earthly pilgrimage, and do much good in his day and generation. As I have before said, my mother had brought my cousin Juliet with her when she came to Ohio. But my Aunt Mary Douglas had just lost her eldest son, and now, seeing mother's many cares, she begged to take the little Juliet, as she had more time to devote to her. Still my mother parted with her very reluctantly, and they were always tenderly attached to each other. Father, in coming to Ohio, had been attracted toward Pickaway County by hearing of the curious mounds and forti- fications made there by the Indians of former days. The most perfect of these ancient works had been chosen, strange- ly enough, for the county seat — and from the peculiar man- ner in which the town was built it was called Circleville. In the center was a large mound, surrounded by a fort. Father never ceased to regret that it was not left in its original con- dition, as manv would doubtless have been attracted thither 30 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW ATE R to view these singular antiquities. He afterward wrote a book descriptive of them, which was in its day greatly praised and sought after. The title of this book was "Western An- tiquities." The surveyors for the county, finding the center to be in this mound, demolished it and placed there the Court House, building the town around it. About this Court House they intended to place a row of maple trees, and have the streets radiate from the circle. Some years after they at- tempted to "square the circle" and thus the original design of the town has been entirely changed. The town lay lower than the surrounding country and in the rainy season became ex- tremely unhealthy on that account. The fort was in time leveled in order to fill in the town, thus wholly destroying all these ancient relics. Among my earliest remembrances after we settled in Circleville are those concerning the little brother older than myself. He had been sick with measles, but had apparently recovered. He then begged mother to allow him to go back to the little school he had been attending. Supposing him about well, she gave her consent. That day the boys went to wade in a pool near by, taking my brother with them. He accidentally fell into the water and they brought him home. Mother immediately changed his clothing, but, as it proved, too late to prevent the sad consequence. Fever and inflammation set in and after a few days they saw that he must die. Mother was plunged in grief, and the little fellow, seeing her tears, seemed to divine its cause, and looking earnestly at her he said, "Oh, mother, don't let me die." One evening when she supposed him sleeping he called her and asked her to hear him say the Lord's Prayer, which, to- gether with several little hymns, she had taught him. Just as he finished the last words he breathed a long sigh and was in the presence of his Saviour. Mother often afterward told us of the strange phenomenon which occurred. It was in the dusk of the evening when he died, and for some moments before the breath left him there was an unearthly brightness in his eyes and a light or radiance shone about his head, some- thing as we often see in representations of the Saviour, rays diverging until they were lost in the surrounding twilight. FAMILY MEMOIRS ATWATER 3! At first she thought it might be her own indistinctness of vision from her tears, but she found thai all who si 1 around him saw the same. She afterward learned that such things had been seen before, although of very rare occurrence. She always thought him a remarkably precocious child for his years, and never wearied in telling us of li i s rare beauty of mind and person. He died on the third day of Inly. The) afterward placed above him a little stone on which was en graved these words, which I have never forgotten: "This lovely hud, so jroung and fair, Called hence by early dm mi. Just came to show how sweet a flower In Paradise can bloom." I was at that time only four years old. Having been placed in my little bed, 1 knew nothing of his death that night. The next day I saw mother crying bitterly and my lilt It- brother lying as if asleep in a pure white dress. I wondered at my mother's tears, and, child-like, thought, Why d<>e- not she wake brother? I was afraid to ask, for so main strangers were all about her. I was lilled with amazement. What could it all mean? Shortly after a man came carrying a strange-looking box, in which he placed my beautiful brother. While I gazed with intense interest he closed the box, and, taking it, placed it on a little bier and the neighbors took it up. Then came father and mother, and some one took me by the hand and led me along to the churchyard. There in a green grassy spot they had dug a deep hole, [nto this they lowered the box which held my brother. This was too much. When the first shovelful of earth told me that they were hiding him from my sight I shrieked. "You shall not, you must not cover up my brother in the dark, cold ground." The kind neighbors hurried me from the >p<>t. hut never while memory lasts shall that first childish agony he forgotten. And ever since that day eternity has been to un- invested with an awful solemnity. Soon after this mother took a young girl to work for her who was called Nannie. She was one of the best of girls and as they were anxious I should go to school they placed me in her care. Father had alreadv tamrht me my letter^ 32 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW ATE R at home. I was always a timid child and was greatly afraid of the new and strange teacher. He tried to conquer my fear and gave me a silver sixpence if I would come up to him and say my letters. When recess came I went with Nannie into the kitchen. There sat the teacher's wife spin- ning at a little wheel. My first thought was that the wheel must be some strange bird, and putting out my hand to catch it I caught the fliers with my fingers. In an instant they were all bleeding and torn. His wife wrapped them up tenderly, while Nannie exclaimed, "You were a little too quick for me that time." The teacher kept a number of rods, for in those days corporal punishment was the strong feature of school, as well as parental discipline. Very soon a large boy was called up for correction. Taking one of his longest rods, he began the work. But I ran between them, and the stroke came down with some force on my bare neck. This saved the boy for that time. Explaining matters, the teacher strove to pacify me, telling me, however, that I must never after interfere. Finally I dried my tears and concluded it must be all right. A young lawyer had taken an office next door to my father, and having left his home in far New England, he was doubtless very lonely. Seeing me often playing about his door, he endeavored to win my confidence. To induce me to come into his office he paraded maps and picture books before me. Finally he overcame my timid fears, and in sur- veying his treasures I was supremely happy. One day, how- ever, he caught me up and kissed me. The moment he put me down I ran like a deer, saying "My mother told me I must never kiss gentlemen." This was the last time he ever could induce me to enter his office. Many years after we renewed our acquaintance, as we were members of the same church, and he then told me that he had always approved of my mother's advice. In those early days we lived in a part of the town called High North. The little stream flowing be- low this ridge was named Hargus creek, and on its banks I passed 'many happy hours. One of our nearest neighbors was a Mrs. P., who had come to Ohio about the same time FAMILY MEMOIRS— AT WATER 33 with my mother. She was a Quakeress. Her husband fol- l lowed the same honorable calling as that of his Master before ■ him, being a carpenter. Mrs. P. was a model of neatness. • Her husband made her, out of white pine, a table, cupboard, I safe and bread tray. This last stood on legs, and the leaf i could be lifted and thrown back at pleasure. When not in I use it was kept tightly closed, and was an object of special || interest to my young eyes. All these pieces of furniture ■ were scoured every Friday until they were as white as snow, • for she believed that "cleanliness was next to godliness," ; which, as St. Paul has told us. is, with contentment, "great gain." She had been a teacher in her native State, New J Jersey, and now kept all her husband's accounts. Her hus- Iband soon bought some land and built them a comfortable i house thereon. At one time she was taken quite sick and [isent word to my mother that she longed for some of her old-fashioned crackers. So mother made them, sending me to carry them to her. "Give her my love," said mother, "and i say that I will gladly do anything for her that I can." When T gave her the message she said that if her girl was only neat || and clean she believed she would soon get well. She sent ■ this girl into the garden for two of her finest nutmeg melons, {giving them to me to take home, telling me to ask mother ■ to come and see her as soon as possible. On the other side of us lived a Mrs. H., whose parents I were old settlers of Ohio. Her husband was a cabinetmaker. Ill now have an old bureau and small table made by him which Xl value highly because he was one of our earliest neighbors. ■ His wife belonged to that body of Christians called Metho- jjdists. When our Quaker friend thought that she could not i get well she sent for Mrs. H. and begged her to accept her white satin bonnet and wear it for her sake. It was made in the style worn by both Quakers and Methodists of that day. During the first few years of our sojourn in Ohio we had, as I have before mentioned, a great deal of sickness and trouble. Night and day did mother watch and toil for her little family, knowing comparatively little about housework, as her father had owned slaves. Toney, the old colored house 34 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER servant, had taught her some things in the way of cooking, but she had never known anything about the dish so greatly in favor in the West — cornmeal mush, or hasty pudding. However, she asked no questions, but went to work to makej it herself. It proved a perfect failure, tasting raw and un- palatable. What could be the matter? Finally she went to a neighbor with her trouble. "Why," she said, "perhaps you put your meal all in at once when the water boiled. "Ohl yes, said she, of course I did. "Well, now, try it again. When: your water begins to boil, stir in a little of the meal, then wait a little before you put in any more, and keep on slowly in this way until as thick as desired, adding salt to season prop- erly." In such ways as these she gradually learned to be a prime cook. Her beefsteak and chicken pie were beyond all praise, as also her corn bread, with many other dishes. As to obtaining help in that day, it was unthought of — unless in case of sickness or death. Then all the neighbors were ready; and willing to do for each other. Mother had no idle time. Her spare moments were employed in teaching her children the Catechism, Webster's Spelling Book and Murray's Eng- lish Reader, which were the text-books of those days. And evein now, to my mind, I can see no modern schoolbooks that sur- pass them. Washday was my great delight, for then mother would permit me to sit down by her, after I was tired of helping her wash, and read aloud to her. In this way I read most of the standard works — Thompson's Seasons, Milton' Paradise Lost, Young's Night Thoughts, and Pollock's Course of Time were among these. What I could not clearly under- stand she would patiently explain, so that unconsciously I be- came a thinker at an early age. When I read a passage incorrectly she would have me read it over very slowly, some- times repeating it two or three times until I read it aright. Shakespeare's plays were also a great favorite with her. We all knew something of his best plays long before we could read them for ourselves. When we were able to read suf-S ficiently well she would point out or mark for us some of his finest passages. I well remember Milton's invocation in Paradise Lost, beginning "Hail, holy Light, offspring of heaven's firstborn" from hearing it, and then reading it when FAMILY MEMOIRS— AT WATER 35 only a child. That so great a poet as Milton was blind af- fected deeply our young hearts and called forth our warmest sympathies. Father was for years a subscriber to the North American Review, and I used to pore over its pages, although I was obliged to look out the meaning of many words in order to read it intelligently. Parents perhaps have but little idea of the lasting happiness they confer on their children by placing good books within their reach. Those of history I rank first on the list, because the minds of children can draw inferences from the past and thus it influences even uncon- sciously all their later life. It also gives them an insight into human nature, which is of great value as they move among their fellows. We were far from rich in this world's goods, but father would say to us, "Enrich your minds ; then you will be prepared for any station or employment and will possess that which can never be taken from you." In his profession as a lawyer he was obliged to make a circuit of at least fifty miles to attend the different courts held throughout the year. These were widely separated, as Ohio was thinly settled at that day. My two uncles in the neighboring towns being of 'the same profession, they almost always traveled together, so that in case of sickness they could look after each other. At one time father was taken quite ill some forty miles from home. And as mother could neither take nor leave her children, she could only trust in God and wait, hoping for the best. Often when father came home he would bring new books with him. Then with what delight would we devour their contents. I shall never forget the joy with which we hailed the first sight of Audubon's Birds, and what a lively dispute arose amongst us as to which w r as most to Ibe admired. Mother quieted the noisy wrangle by saying that each one had a right to an opinion of his own. I have no doubt, as I look back upon those days, that father enjoyed the pleasure of thus seeing our innocent happiness even more than we who received his gifts. About this time mother went on a little visit to my Aunt Mary Douglas whom I loved so well, taking me with her. After we had been there about a week, my father wrote that he was very unwell, and anxious for her to come home. She received the letter late Saturdav night and as the coach re- 36 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER turned next day she said to my aunt, "Now, although as you know it is against my principles to travel on Sunday, yet as my husband is sick I suppose I must go." Accordingly we started. There were no passengers in the coach except my mother, myself and two little brothers, the youngest only four months old. When we came to the little village of Jef- ferson, some three miles from home, the driver carelessly threw the lines back on the seat and jumped down to carry the mail into the little postoffice. There had been a black cloud just above us and the storm was gathering. Just after the driver entered the office a vivid flash of lightning flashed across the heavens, followed by a terrific peal of thunder. The horses started to run and flew like the wind. Mother, awfully frightened, clasped her children to her arms and screamed "Oh, Lord, have mercy on us !" They ran about a mile when, turning suddenly, they upset the coach against the fence. One horse was instantly killed and we were all thrown out in the mud, which doubtless saved our lives. The baby was thrown violently against the side of the coach and his face badly cut, but fortunately no bones were broken. The villagers came running as quickly as they could, sup- posing we would all be killed before they reached us. But no one was seriously hurt except the poor animal. The coach was literally a mass of rubbish. It was indeed for us a most miraculous escape. The villagers took us kindly to their homes and next day landed us safely at our own door. But I well remember how sore and bruised we were for many days. Mother had ever after a fear of riding in a stage coach, and nothing could induce her to make another journey on Sunday. There was a young lady in our village whose parents had sent her away to a boarding school. While there she learned to draw and paint most beautifully. When she came home she visited our house and begged mother to let me come and see her in return. I did so, and she brought out her drawings. Among them she had painted a beautiful bluejay, with a tuft of feathers on his head. I was enraptured over the bird and told her that I once saw one in our apple tree when it was covered with pink blossoms. She saw how FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER delighted I was, although I did not venture to say too much, as 'mother had always told me not to covet what did nol belong to me. However, in a few days after this sweet young girl came over, bringing with her not only the lovely picture of the bluejay, but also a doll which she had dressed with her own hands. I was about eight years old and she thirteen. I kept these pretty presents for many years. "Jesus sought me when a stranger Wandering from the fold of God; He, to save my soul from danger. Interposed His precious blood." This was the first verse I ever committed to memory. I 'felt very proud when I repeated it to my mother without one mistake, and she praised me highly because I had learned it without her knowledge or assistance. About this time a number of ladies and gentlemen in our village read an ac- count of Robert Raike's Sunday school, and what an aston- shing success it had proved. They soon opened one in our own, all denominations uniting in the good work. I finished dso the reading of the Old and New Testaments. In the midst of all this we were passing through sickness, suffering nd work — yes, hard work, too. I strove to lighten the tasks 3f my poor faithful mother, as I was the eldest daughter by many years. Mother was my first and last thought. For many successive summers she had the prevailing fever of the country and climate. When taken the fifth summer I was Did enough to fully realize her dangerous condition. Father was away at court as usual. I begged mother to allow me o write to Aunt Mary to come up, as the neighbors around jus were also sick and help was almost impossible to obtain. The only way she could come was on horseback. There was no bridge over the Scioto, but as it was summer she could :ross the river at the ford. When she came mother was ineonscious of her presence. But she went to work in good earnest, bathing and nursing her, and finally succeeded in Haying the scorching fever. She secured an old colored woman as nurse, but did not leave her until she was on the way to recovery. This was only one of her manifold acts :>f kindness. She saw how many comforts mother needed, 38 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW ATE R and as soon as she could, came back, and brought them. When I was about ten years old I had a little sister and I was mother's chief nurse. The following summer father was obliged to leave home. He told mother he had found that cream of tartar was very wholesome as a summer drink, and advised her to use it. So accordingly she sent me to the place where they sold drugs of various kinds. "Now if the physician is not there," she said, "ask the young student to give you the cream of tartar. Tell him to be sure and give you the right medicine." I went and obeyed her directions to the letter. When I returned she mixed up a couple of teaspoonfuls in half a tumbler of water and drank it down, leaving a little in the glass for me. As soon as she had swal-1 lowed it she said, "How strangely it tastes, not sour, but sweet." Hardly had she spoken when it began to act as an emetic. I sent my little brother directly for the physician, who came quickly. He found upon inquiry that the student had given tartar emetic instead of cream of tartar. Fori many hours we feared she would die, while I too was sickl from the little I had taken. The neighbors came in and fanned and rubbed her, giving her various things to counter- act the poison. It was a desperate struggle for life. Thej names were so similar that the ignorant student had mistaken one for the other, but providentially her life was saved. Not a great while after, in the following winter, mother had an attack of pleurisy, which was very dangerous and confined her to her bed for many long weeks. Often while waiting on her day and night have I fallen asleep over my work, but I '] strove to keep up a brave heart, knowing how much depended on me, and fearful of losing my dear mother, whose life was so necessary to her little family. As I have before mentioned, one of mother's sisters had married a lawyer living in Columbus. Grandfather's farm lay a few miles distant on Alum creek. When my grand- father came to visit us he said that he had been obliged to work harder in his old age than ever before in his life. Farm hands were scarce, and he had now no slaves to work for him. But my Uncle Roswell, his youngest son, about eighteen years of age, was so industrious that grandfather was obliged FAMILY MEMOIRS- .irir.IT/-h' 39 to check his ambitious spirit. With his help they had already but up a two-story log house with an adjoining kitchen and set out a large orchard of fine fruit trees, besides clearing land to plant their crops. I have omitted to mention that grandfather had before this taken to himself a second wife. But as my mother had long since left the home, she knew very little of her. Having idolized her own mother, she cared not to see another fill her place, and thus, although courteous when they met, she sought no intimate relations with her. Grandfather, however, before he left our house on this visit insisted that mother should come up and see his farm, bring- ing the children with her and we were as happy as birds at the prospect of going. Accordingly we went soon alter, but never again saw our dear Lncle Roswell. Some two years before, he had visited us, and pleased us by showing us his new watch which he had earned with his own money. When we reached there, grandfather met us, but was completely overcome by his feelings. For some time he could not say a word — but finally mastering" his emotion, he told the sad story. Roswell was mild and gentlemanly in deportment, and in looks much resembled my grandmother. He was greatly respected by all who knew him. I lay awake in the little trundle-bed and listened as he told about the son of his old age. He said it was on one of the last days of har- vest. There had been weeks of hard work, because in those days there were no modern improvements to lighten the toil of the farmer. He said the reaping was done, the shocks all bound and standing in the fields, when in the evening Roswell said to his father, "I believe I will go down to the creek with two of the young men of the neighborhood and bathe." Accordingly they all went. "It was a bright, moon- light night," grandfather said, "and I lay here just as I do now. looking down at the creek. They had been gone hut a short time, when the young men came running rapidly toward the house, saying 'Roswell is drowned. He went into the water with us, but must have been taken with the cramps, and we have lost sight of him.' I ran down to the spot they pointed out, and wading into the water stumbled over his bodv. We raised him and carried him to the bank. 40 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW ATE R The young men ran to the house for blankets and brandy, hoping to revive him, but all in vain, for life had already fled." Roswell's death had a wonderful effect on his stepmother. He was uniformly kind and devoted to her. Indeed had she been an own mother he could not have treated her more tenderly. After his death, she acted strangely. All her talk was of Roswell, and of her early New England home. One day after dinner, she made signs to my Aunt Martha (who was now a widow and living with them) that she wished to go and spend the afternoon with a neighbor some two miles distant. Aunt tried to prevail upon her to wait until next day, but she said, "No, no," and soon after started out. As soon as grandfather came in, which was near night, my aunt told him, and he went immediately over to the neigh- bor's house, but she was not there. He then went in other directions but she had not been at any of their houses. At last one neighbor said she had seen her in the early part of the afternoon going by, carrying a bundle and had won- dered where Mrs. Butler could be going in such haste. Grand- father then went back home, got the carriage and following directions, inquired at every farm house he passed. Several had noticed her, and at one place she had rested quite a while. Finally, after going some miles he saw her in the distance walking very swiftly. Her clothing was wet and muddy. Coming near her, he called out, "Why, my dear, where are you going?" "Well," she answered very pleas antly, "I am going home to Connecticut." He then jumped out and said, "All right, but don't you want me to go along' with you?" "Oh, yes," she said, "but I have so often asked you. to go, and your answer would always be, 'After awhile. Now Mr. Butler I am tired of waiting and am going by myself.' " He immediately saw by her wild manner and frantic gestures that reason was dethroned. But he finally succeeded in per- suading her to get in the carriage and go back with him. She was naturally of a mild and amiable disposition. But now her cheeks were flushed with fever and she was quite unmanageable. My aunt after a time induced her to go t bed while grandfather went directly for a physician. H FAMILY M HMOIRS—ATWATER 41 found that it was an attack of brain fever, and slu- never after had a rational moment, dying in about two weeks. Thus was my poor grandfather left a second time compamonless and desolate. My Aunt Mary Douglas still had with her my Cousin Juliet, who came with mother to Ohio. She was near my own age and we loved each other dearly. After a time 1 went down to make her a visit. Before leaving home mother charged me to be obedient to every wish of my aunt's, even as though it was herself. Mother was extremely indulgent to me. as I was an only daughter until ten years of age and she felt toward me more as a companion than she could to her younger children. 1 thought, as a matter of course, 1 could have the same liberty at my aunt's as I had at home, appro- priating all the surroundings to my own use. One day my cousin had shown me a beautiful necklace of beads belonging to herself. They were curiously fastened together, four or live strings being attached a finger's length apart with a square of beadwork. It was over a yard long and fastened with a beautiful gold clasp. One day when she was out of the room, I placed them around my neck winding them about a number of times and then going to the large mirror, sur- veyed myself with great satisfaction. After that I ran down into the garden dancing and singing in great glee. My aunt, seeing: me, called me to her and asked me whose beads I had I on my neck. I said they were Cousin Juliets. "Did she tell you that you might wear them." said she. "Oh no," I said. she does not know anything about it." "Well." said aunt, "now suppose you should be so unfortunate as to break some of those delicate strings?" Then drawing me lovingly to her she added. "My dear niece, I know how grieved both you and she would be if you should happen to spoil them. Then is it right for you to meddle with what is not your own?" This was a lesson for me which I never forgot in after life. Soon after this my Cousin Juliet was married to a gentleman who established himself as a merchant in our village. Mother was greatly rejoiced for she had always felt towards her as a daughter, and I loved her as an elder sister. 42 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW ATE R Shortly after her marriage Aunt Mary came to see us. She made her home with my mother, though spending a part of her time with my cousin. She soon noticed that I did not always help my mother with the work, often going into the sitting room and taking up a book while she was engaged in the kitchen. So one day she said, "My dear, does not your mother need you to help her? "Oh no," I said, "she did not tell me so." "Well," she said, "dear, good girls never wait to be told or called. They say, "Mother, do let me do some- thing more for you, instead of going where she can not see them, and yet perhaps she is in the greatest need." Then patting me on the shoulder, she added, "I want you to cherish your dearest earthly friend. No other mother can you ever have. Remember whatever you do from love to her, she will prize more than a diadem of rubies. Let all you do for her be a labor of love. This will make the task an easy one. You know, I am sure, who to ask for help to aid you." I looked up at her and saw her loving countenance beaming with goodness and said, "Aunt, I mean to try, yes I will." Thus was she ever imparting to me some lesson which influenced me in after life. The husband of my Aunt Douglas was a self-made man. In early life he had, to be sure, the advantages of a good New England school, but not a collegiate one. His brother older than himself was a sea captain. When he went on his voy- ages my uncle accompanied him, first as a cabin boy. Here he learned to cook and was always very proud of his accom- plishments in this line. Very often he would insist on get- ting up a meal at home when they happened to be out of help, and boasted that he could do better than half the cooks in the country. His brother had on board the ship a choice collection of standard English works. When the vessel was becalmed and little could be done he would take a book and go aloft either to study or read. In this way he read Shakes- peare and indeed knew most of his plays by heart. After going on several voyages with his brother he concluded to leave the sea and come out West. Passing through varied experiences he at length settled down as a lawyer, and in his profession was astonishingly successful. He was one of FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER 43 the wittiest of men. Wherever he went he was sure to draw a crowd around him. To young people more especially \\a> he an unfailing source of amusement and delight. Winn he omitted to make his appearance at their social gatherings the question was sure to go round, "Where is Mr. Douglas? We can not gel along without him." And yet I never knew him personally to wound the feelings of any one. Some wit is s,, sarcastic that one can only compare it to poisoned arrows shot from a golden quiver. He was an inimitable mimic and could copj ; so perfectly any peculiarity of voice or motion that you might suppose the identical person to he before you. Mis favorite hour for jollity and fun was at the table. Many a time have 1 laughed until my sides fairly ached at his comical repre- sentations and mirth-provoking sallies. Once when 1 was there he came in and said to my aunt. "Well, Marv, it is getting about warm enough for my summer coat." "Why, Mr. Douglas," said my aunt, "I told you when you laid it off last summer that it would not be even decent to wear another season. How long do you suppose you have worn that bom- bazine coat?" "Well," said he, "let me see — not more than ten years, I am very sure." She went to the clothes press and, taking it down, handed it to him. "Now, Mary." said he, "I mean to wear this coat just as it is. This coat is my delight." Then putting it on, and raising his arms to show the under part of the sleeves, which were one mass of darns. he said, turning to me, "This is my royal coat of arms." Here he stepped out proudly in front of my aunt. "This coat, I say, has helped your husband to maintain his reputation. While I have worn this coat I have never had occasion to face that most miserable word in the English vocabulary, 'duns.' I OAve not one cent for the stitching done to this coat by Lo Smith, the tailor, nor one dollar to Sam Campbell, the merchant, for the bombazine of which it is made. He- sides, and above all other considerations, it has been darned and reclamed by the woman I most sincerly ad ire, which makes it unspeakably precious to my eyes." My aunt lost a daughter whom she greatly mourned, as much because he seemed to feel it so deeply as on her own account. I well remember how. when I was a child, he took me home once 44 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW AT ER in a sleigh. I was so cold that I cried and he sang to me this old ditty: "Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater, had Belinda and could not keep her; he put her in a pumpkin shell and there he kept her warm and well." Thus he beguiled me by the way until I reached home, all unmindful of the cold. Never, during the many years in which I almost made their house a second home, did he once lead me to doubt his love and kindness. At another time he accompanied me home in the coach. There were several other lawyers with us going up to attend court in a neighboring town. Our ride was indeed a joyous one, as his presence always diffused mirthfulness about him. When within a short distance of the little village of Jefferson we added another passenger in the person of a Miss Betty Clark, an antiquated maiden of some sixty years who resided in the little village before mentioned. My unci knew her well, as she had lived there ever since he first cam to Ohio. She possessed one peculiarity, a dislike to all un married gentlemen. Indeed, she professed to even hate them most thoroughly. The moment she entered the coach m uncle took upon himself even more than his accustomed gal lantry, expressing his sincere delight in thus having the unexpected pleasure of introducing to the gentlemen his young and handsome friend, Miss Betty Clark. He then told! her that he esteemed himself especially fortunate in meeting her at this time, as he wished to relate to her a most remark- able dream he had a few nights previous concerning herself, "And now, Miss Betty," said he, "with your permission I will relate this wonderful dream." Miss Betty said she had] no objection, certainly. "Well," said he, "I thought I was standing in the door of my office, looking toward the south; when what should I discover in the distance but a horsema coming at a furious rate. As he drew near who should it b but my honored friend, Colonel Bostwick. 'Whither away so swiftly,' cried I. As he appeared not to hear I called again a| the top of my voice, 'Whoa, Rosinante!' The horse, mors obedient than his master, then halted in front of my office. I saw at a glance that the poor animal was in a lather of foam. The rider looked haggard and worn. 'Dismount, good friend,' said I, 'and come and dine with me. Why this furious n y FAMILY MEMOIRS— AT WATER 45 haste? 1 tell you it will kill both man and beast.' He looked at me, oh, so despairingly. 'Well,' said he, finally, 'I have failed to get one good night's slumber for more than three weeks past for thinking both night and day of my earliest and only sweetheart. Miss Betty Clark. Tell me, oh, tell me, have you seen her lately?' I told him that I had had the exquis- ite pleasure of meeting her some three months since and assured him she was still young, lovely and blooming as ever. With that he caught the bridle from my grasp, raised himself in his stirrups and then, waving his lily-white hand, he said, 'Hinder me not. I press on to win my beauteous prize.' And in an instant he was off, his coat tails fluttering in the breeze. No doubt, Miss Betty, you have had an interview with him long ere this and the nuptials are already arranged." I al- most held my breath as he was telling this story and really caught myself looking toward the south for the furious horse- man. The narrative was accompanied with his own peculiar gestures and the twinkling merriment of his bright black eyes. It was greeted by a continued roar of laughter, in which how- ever. Miss Betty failed to join. "Mr. Douglas," she said, "you dreamed that with your eyes wide open, you know you did, and your imagination must surely be in a very disordered condition." My uncle begged a thousand pardons and said, "Indeed, Miss Betty, the dream seemed so real that if he fails to come I shall set him down as 'a false-hearted lawyer that's worse than a thief,' which is a line of an old-fashioned song I used to sing in my young days." While visiting my aunt she heard me each day recite a lesson from history, giving me her assistance and explana- tions. The truth and beauty of many of her remarks have been to me a source of pleasure that no words can adequately describe. "And," said she, "let me enjoin you, my dear, al- ways to seek a friend older than yourself of whom you may I ask advice. Be sure to guard your words at all times, as in the presence of that Great Being to Whom we must all give I account. This will help you to act and converse 'as seeing him who is invisible,' and will prevent your indulging in many silly conversations that you would remember with morti- fication and sorrow." Dear young girls, you may never know. 46 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW AT ER and eternity alone can tell, what effect your words and ex- amples may have in either injuring others or leading them in paths of virtue and happiness. There were three young friends whom I shall ever love to remember. Years ago my father brought home a paper in which was a piece of poetry written by Chateaubriand. I have now forgotten the verses, but the chorus was this, "The sweet young girl, the sweet young flower." I can truly re- peat this of these my youthful friends. Two of them were sisters. One had hair dark as the raven's wing, with brilliant black eyes and complexion clear and rosy. Her sister Mary was the reverse of this — pale blue eyes, golden hair, and fair as the lily. The beauty of their characters was their constant thoughtfulness for each other's welfare. All of them were near my own age, about thirteen. Betty M. was not as hand- some as the other two, yet she could not be looked upon, or her conversation listened to, without leaving the impression that in truth there dwelt a rare soul therein. We all went to the academy situated at the edge of the village. Once a week we attended dancing school. But they in some way neglected to protect themselves sufficiently against the cold, and one after another declined in health. Spring opened and then the summer. But autumn came only to number these lovely ones with the dead. And indeed it seemed not unmeet that these dear young girls "so gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers." About this time there was great commotion in Ohio con- cerning the granting of money for the support of Common Schools. Father was extremely interested in this object, feel- ing the great importance of educating the masses. Governor DeWitt Clinton was one of the prominent men of that day. He warmly advocated this measure, as also the laying of a canal through the State. He persuaded my father to edit a paper to further the object, called the "Friend of Freedom." It, however, was unsuccessful pecuniarily, and was shortly after abandoned. Father was then elected to the State Legis- lature in order to bring forward the Common School question. He helped to push through the money appropriation. After this came the Canal project. There was great opposition to this measure, but its advocates finally gained the day. My FAMILY MEMOIRS—. I Tll\ 1 TER 47 Father and some of the leading men now invited Governor DeWitt Clinton to come to Ohio and participate in the initial ceremonies. The engineers of the work decided on com- mencing the canal at what was called Licking Summit. He, with many others, went up to meet him. From the wonder- ful emigration of Irish the laborers were already prepared. 'I his Western world has indeed proved a glorious land for foreign laborers. With no inducements for work at home, they have found here the Lldorado of their hopes, gaining by their industry not only the comforts, but also the luxuries ot life. Governor Clinton came and with great pomp and ceremony gave to Ohio, in the name of the State of New York, the right hand of fellowship in tin's great undertaking. After this was over he turned his steps southward, coming home with my father. 1 well remember his appearance, and he was indeed a noble specimen of humanity. Though but a child I distinctly remember hearing him converse on the topics of the day. Railroads were talked of as the hope of coming times. My father, being a great geologist, had col- lected many valuable curiosities, forming a beautiful cabinet. Specimens had been sent to him from ever}' part of the world — quartz from different points, beautiful marbles and a va- riety of minerals. He marked every specimen with care, .giving the name and locality of each. There were Indian relics, idols and flints of various kinds, beautiful petrified fishes with scales and fins perfectly preserved, also some wonderful coal formations. The impressions of fern leaves on these coal deposits were most wonderful, shining like satin. These came from near Zanesville and were among the most perfect ever found. There were specimens of mammoth teeth and also a large piece of Peruvian cloth. This was of a buff color and used by the Peruvian women for clothing. It was found in one of their ancient sepulchres, but there were no hieroglyphics to tell certainly of its origin. There were fine specimens of lava from old volcanoes, and frankin- cense from the Holy Land, which when burned would fill the whole room with fragrance. Many distinguished for- eigners called at our house to examine this cabinet, but father, meeting with some reverses, was finally obliged to dispose of 48 FAMILY MEMOIRS— AT WATER it. It was placed in the Cincinnati Museum, where, however, it was finally destroyed by fire some years after. Father was always an enthusiast when speaking of the wealth of America hidden in her immense coal fields and the endless supply of minerals treasured in the bosom of the earth. He praised God that he had been permitted to live in this age and nation. If the faith taught by the lowly Jesus of Nazareth were but the corner stone of this grand republic, its greatness would ere long "cover the whole earth, as the waters cover the sea." Soon after this General Jackson was elected President of the United States. Being an old friend of father's, he recommended him to Congress as a suitable agent to treat with the Indians of the Northwest. He was accordingly appointed, in addition to two others, to form a treaty with them. They went on to Prairie du Chien and there met the Indian chiefs, buying of them land for three States. Congress also appointed several scientific men to go with them. One of these was an English artist to make sketches for them. Father requested several of these chiefs to get up a war dance that this artist might paint their costumes arrayed for these evolutions. They accordingly exhibited themselves in their grandest manner. He brought home with him, and afterward carried to Washington, one of these costumes. It was made of beautiful white deerskin, soft as silk. The wives of these chiefs had dressed the skins. One could hardly believe that it had been done by Indians. It consisted of a hunting shirt coming half way to the knees, at the bottom of which was a trimming of fawn-colored skin made to resemble fringe, about a quarter of a yard in depth. The leggins were also made of a similar material and trimmed in a like beautiful manner. The wampum belt was adorned with elaborate bead work, as were also the moccasins, and these all together made a splendid costume. The artist copied portraits and pictures of savage life with wonderful fidelity. The portraits of these chiefs were, father said, true to nature. This was many years previous to the discovery of photography. The paintings, as well as costumes, were all sent to the "great father," General Jackson, in Washington. The Indians were very anxious to learn of father the number and ages of his family. FAMILY MEMOIRS— AT WATER 49 Before he left them they presented him with a pair of moc- casins for every one, including himself and wife. And, strange to say. they fitted each as well as though they had taken a measure. They sent, besides, necklaces of beads, exquisitely made, and all different in pattern. Father said the squaws were an example of industry for our own ladies, and might be imitated by them with profit. After father's return mother received a letter from my aunt in Columbus, containing the sad news that grandfather's house on Alum creek had been burned to the ground. Xo one could discover in what way the house took fire. The smoke awoke my grandfather, and he had barely time to awaken the family and save them and himself. Nearly everything in the house was "burned. He went to one of the houses near, belonging to a tenant but the fright and exposure brought on a fever. My aunt lived seven miles south of the farm in the city of Columbus. Mother was unable to go to Columbus herself but sent me, telling me to write her the true state of the case. When I reached Columbus my aunt told me he was seriously ill. She had used •every argument to persuade him to come home with her but he was so feeble that the physician advised them not to remove him. It was the latter part of the month of August, and the intensely hot weather, fatigue and excitement were too much for him at his time of life. He grew gradually worse. My uncle told us that the night he died he called him to his bedside, and asked him to say for him the Lord's Prayer, repeating it after him in a firm, clear voice. After which he turned himself in his bed. dying without one sigh or groan. Next morning my aunt sent lor all his friends and neighbors to come to the funeral. I went with them. There he lay in the little humble cottage of his tenant. All about him was calm and peaceful, and in his last sleep he looked as though no trouble had ever come near him. The day of his burial was one of the loveliest of autumn. The orchard was bending with its luscious fruit, the very trees his hands had helped to plant. There were seats provided in the large barn for all the friends. The folding doors were thrown open and my grandfather was brought in and placed in front of the clergyman. On one side of the barn lay stacked the bundles of vellow grain and oats. On the other hung bridles, saddles 50 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW AT ER and gears. There too were the plows, harrows and other imple- ments of farming. But the master who had so long directed their use had now been called away. The clergyman's text was this "For what is our life, it is even as a vapor, which appeareth for a little time and then vanisheth away." To me the whole scene was unspeakably solemn and affecting, and will ever live in my memory. He who once held a high and honored place among men, with servants and wealth at his command, now lay in this humble place — all unmindful of the change. Let us hope that his many sorrows and trials had made him ready for that blessed home above, where re-united to the loved ones gone be- fore, his tears were forever wiped away. "The path of sorrow and that path alone, Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown." Grandfather was but sixty-eight when he died. His farm is now one of the most valuable in the state. It is situated on rolling ground. The little creek where my poor Uncle Roswell found a watery grave flows directly through it and adds greatly to its beauty. It may be that I am prejudiced in favor of early associations but this farm had to me a -charm which none other can ever possess. Often have I there listened to my grandfather as he recalled the pleasing reminiscences of his early youth. Two of these little stories I will now relate. He said that when a boy his father once gave him a beautiful pig. This was a great pet with him, and he watched and tended it very carefully, learn- ing it many amusing tricks. As it was winter he called it every morning to be fed at the back door of the house. From some cause the pig failed to come up to the barn for shelter one night as usual. The winters are most bitterly cold in New England, and that night proved the coldest of the season. When he arose in the morning and opened the door, what should he see but his poor pig standing in the accustomed place, but frozen stiff and dead. He had remembered the place where his master fed him, and instinct had led him to the spot, but the severity of the weather had frozen him at his post. "Well," said grandfather as he mourned over the loss of his favorite, "you are indeed a brave pig. Stand up and die, if die you must, but never give up. Those are my principles, the real sentiments of your master." And such was indeed, my grandfather, brave and determined FAMILY MEMOIRS ATWATER 51 through life, he shrank from no duty however difficull or un pleasant and with cowards had but little sympathy. Another story my grandfather delighted to tell was this ; < Ine of his New England neighbors was a farmer. Only once in a number of years could he succeed in raising a crop of melons. One season had, however, proved very favorable, and although the land was so hilly and full of rocks and stones he had by dint of great industry succeeded in bringing forward some un usually hue ones. But each morning some were missing. \- he was anxious to reap the fruits of his toil he determined to watch for the thief. So loading his gun with buckshot he sallied out. concealing himself behind a corner of the stone fence, where unseen he could yet discover the depredator. Ik- watched patiently till near midnight and was about concluding that the theft must have been committed by some wandering animal, whin lo, stalking along in the moonlight he beheld one of the deacons of his own church coming steathily forward looking all about him. Then trying a melon with his jack knife to see whether it was fully ripe he thus soliloquized, "Well, green and bitter as a gourd. Good enough for you Deacon Clark, if you will la- guilty of so mean a trick. Stuff it down your miserable throat. Another, and no better. Tho, bitter as Aloes you shall cat it. Perhaps it may prevent you from ever again disgracing the name you bear in the church. Let this experience be a lesson to you." So saying he ate another slice and then left the patch. The story was too good to keep and Deacon Clark did not soon hear the last of that midnight expedition. I was now about fifteen years of age and soon after the death of my grandfather I -went back to my Aunt Mary's to resume my studies. Some days after, aunt and uncle were invited to a large party. My aunt sent the lady a note asking permission to take me with her which was most cordially granted. But when the evening came she was too unwell to venture out, and I accord- ingly went with my uncle. The next morning aunt asked me how I had enjoyed the evening. "Not very well." I said, "for I missed my old friends Betty Mead, Jane and Mary C. whom I loved so well. Very few spoke to me except to ask after you, or regret your absence." "As to those dear friends whom you mourn." she said, "they are. we trust, in a far happier place 52 FAMILY MEMOIRS— AT WATER while doubtless you are left here for some wise purpose, and to render happy those around you." "Well, aunt," I said, "I was afraid to speak, not knowing just what was best to say." "My dear," said she, "you must strive to forget yourself, and think only of how you can interest others. Ask them about their friends, their health and surroundings. Every one loves a good listener, who is said to be far more attractive than a good talker. Do not expect all your words to be like gold coin. If we truly love others, we will not fail to keep plenty of light change, called small talk, to make the hours pass pleasantly on such occasions. The next party you attend look around and see if there is not some one there whom you know to be burdened with care. Perhaps you can speak a word of comfort or cheer to such and in that way lighten their hearts. Thus fulfilling the royal law of love." While engaged in studying history, my aunt permitted me to read sometimes in Scott's novels. When my uncle had time to join us she often read them aloud. I heard in this way Guy Mannering and Ivanhoe, which we all greatly enjoyed. But she soon found that I became remiss in my lessons, and when the hour for recitation came I would fain be excused. However, she did not then reprove me. One bright morning I arose early, swept and dusted my room, and went down to the family apart- ment where uncle was relating a story. It had in it some ex- pressions of profanity. My aunt did not join in the general mer- riment it caused, but finally looking up, said, "Father, that pro- fanity spoils the whole story. Some persons seem to think that strong language gives zest to an anecdote, while I always con- sider it the height of vulgarity. It looks as though the person telling it only wanted some excuse to say these words." "Well, Mary," he said, "You must forgive me. I am sorry I told it." Thus did she never lose an opportunity to live out daily and hourly her religious principles. Oh that every Christian pos- sessed a like courage ! After breakfast aunt asked if I knew my history lesson. I said I did, and followed her into the library. Pointing to the shelf where were Scott's novels, I said, "Aunt, if I promise to learn my lessons well will you let me read the rest of these?" "My dear," she answered, "I have already allowed FAMILY MEMOIRS ATWATER 53 you to read and hear the portions of his works most worthy of remembrance. You know your dear mother deprives her- self of your help that you may improve this precious time." She looked at me and saw that my eyes were filled with tears, for 1 had set my heart on reading these books. Then, ten- derly placing her arm around me, she added, "You are not aware how much the reading of these lias already distracted your mind, rendering - yon incapable of retaining more impor- tant knowledge. Works of fiction do not, like history, aid you in your religions life. And yon have not forgotten those lines you repeated the other day." "Oh, no," I said, "1 can say them now. 'Religion, what treasures untold reside in that heavenly word, more precious than silver or gold or all that the world can afford'." And quickly wiping away my tears I listened while she went on to say, "When you have finished your studies, if you still desire to read these or similar works, I have no objection, but my impression is that you will find you derive more real and lasting enjoyment from the solid truths of history, the enchanting facts contained in chemistry and botany, with the wonders only half revealed in astron- omy, not forgetting geology, and combining all these with the study of rhetoric, which enables you to put into language what you have already learned, than in the mere momentary pleasure experienced in reading works of the imagination." I looked forward with great delight also to the obtaining of a musical education, not merely for the accomplishment itself, but from the innate love I possessed for the harmony of sounds. Painting I had already been taught on a small scale, enough indeed to foster within me a love of the beauti- ful, as seen in the exquisite penciling of our wild flowers, of which the Saviour declared that "even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." There were, however, few musical instruments in our village. The only piano was a little old-fashioned affair, owned by one of our neighbors, brought with them from Germany. I looked even at that as something wonderful, but my ambition to possess a scien- tific knowledge of 'music was unfortunately never attained. For in those days time was precious as gold. There was house work and sewing always to be done. The sewing 54 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW ATE R machine had not then been invented to shorten woman's ceaseless toil. Mother sometimes kindly relieved me and per- mitted me to visit one young girl who was a great favorite with us all. She was nearly a year older than myself and her parents came to Ohio some seven years later than mine. Her father had formerly been a merchant in Philadelphia, and. being an only daughter, her every wish thus far had been gratified. I had been industrious through the week and helped mother in every way, as well as cared for the little ones. I was permitted, as a great treat, to go and visit Eliza on a Saturday afternoon, after dressing myself neatly. Then per- haps Eliza would return the visit on the following Saturday. Thus for several years our pleasant intercourse continued. Those happy days passed swiftly away and we looked for- ward with fond anticipation to the future, forgetting in our joyousness the true words of the poet, "The trail of the ser- pent is over them all." In looking back at those blissful days I can now realize how wise is the Providence that has cast a veil to hide the future from our eyes. For if in youth we could but know the sorrows and trials awaiting us in after life, how tinged with gloom would many an hour be, and how earnestly would we pray for strength and guidance to Him who has promised to hold us "in the hollow of His hand." East of our house there was a forest, and to the north lay the village churchyard. Here were three or four large elms and near these my little brother was buried. I almost fancy I can scent the perfume of the sweetbriar which grew near his grave. I often carried my little brothers and sisters there in the cool of the evening after my work was done. Often, too, have I watched the sunset from this spot, and in the autumnal evenings how glorious were its fading lights, as the stars came peeping out from their hiding places in the sky above, clothing the scene with surpassing beauty. Some- times on such evenings my dear friend Eliza would join me and we would converse together freely of our hopes and plans. Some years later Eliza married, and in the companion- ship of a kind, indulgent husband and precious children re- alized much of earthly happiness, but consumption finally settled upon her naturally frail and delicate form and before FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW AT UK 55 many years had passed I was called to mourn the last of my earliest and dearest earthly friends. She, with s<> main- others I have loved, now waits for me, 1 trust, on the other shore. After her death her mother gave me a beautiful white chrys- anthemum which she had left for me, and whenever I saw its fine white blossoms it served to remind me of the friend whose spotless life it so nearly resembled. It was near this period of my life that I was baptized and confessed faith in the blessed Saviour, becoming a member of the Episcopal Church. I used to dread making a profession before the world but this now no longer troubled me. I asked my dear Cousin Juliet to stand with me, together with another friend, and was then Confirmed by the Bishop. How joyfully did I take the step which bound me to be "Christ's faithful soldier and servant to my life's end." Little did I realize the many conflicts, both within and without, which I should be called upon to endure. How often I must strive in agony of soul to say "Thy will, not mine, be done." I ever dearly prized our precious liturgy which has been a source of comfort not only to the present church militant, but to untold millions, now mem- bers of the church triumphant. I once met a good Presbyterian friend who said to me, "Are you not going the wrong way to church?" "Well," said I, "with all the helps I find, I am only following Jesus afar off, but I must go where I meet with the greatest aid to send me on my way to the land I love." The language I need is here already prepared for my benefit and every year these beautiful prayers become more dear to my heart. While I recognize fellow Christians of every name, and gladly offer them the right hand of fellowship, yet my own church and its liturgy will ever hold the supremest place in my affections. My Aunt Parrish, living in Columbus, now wrote to me to come up and make her a visit, telling me that my uncle had just purchased a new work on chemistry, with a number of other interesting books. Mother accordingly gave her consent. My Uncle Parrish was at this time in good health. He did a pros- perous business in his profession and all seemed to go well with him. He had then been appointed Judge and had built himself a comfortable home just east of the State House. 56 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER The new work on chemistry of which my aunt wrote had just been published and contained many new and valuable discoveries, among which was that of Sir Humphrey Davy's lamp, which has been the means of saving many valuable lives. This work was written in the form of a dialogue. I commenced taking notes of its most interesting points and my good aunt was frequently obliged to tell me to go to rest, reminding me that other days were yet coming. In studying this work I was reminded of Shakespeare's Glen- dower when he says, "I can call spirits from the vasty deep." These grand discoveries in science only prove to us that there are wonders all about us which only infinity can fathom. But we can still continue to learn, to wonder and adore. One morn- ing while in Columbus there came to the house an uncle from a distance, in company with two strangers. I was very shy and diffident and no one thought of giving me a formal introduc- tion to the strangers. But I conversed with my uncle and often found one of the strangers watching me intently. This uncle was unmarried and quite a beau among the ladies. At last the stranger said to my uncle, "Come, Butler, suppose we go and call on Miss C. I promised if I ever came here to call upon her." "All right," said uncle, where is my hat?" So off they started. It was a long walk, but very shortly after they returned. As they came in uncle seemed quite out of patience. "Now, Foster," said he, "I hope you are satisfied. After calling on that lady just to please you, you would not stay long enough to pay for the trouble of going." He made some laughing reply, and they shortly after left for their home. The stranger, however, seemed to linger at the door, whither I went to say good-by, and kept looking back as far as I could see him. I, however, soon forgot this little incident. On that same day my father came, bringing with him a brother of mine. He had just returned from a trip to Ken- tucky, having taken him there for his health. He had been ailing for some time with chronic rheumatism. When about twelve years of age he learned to skate. One bitter cold day he remained too long on the ice and became chilled through. The next morning he complained of a stiffness on one side of his neck and finally grew so much worse that it FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER 57 was difficult for him to rest in any position either da) or night. Father consulted a physician immediately, but he finally expressed the opinion that medical prescriptions were useless. He recommended an entire change of scene. This would lead him to forget himself and thus gradually bring every part of the system into action. Accordingly father decided upon this journey. livery means was resorted to in order to alleviate his suffering. He was allowed to run about and exercise as he pleased, and rest whenever he felt disposed. Father greatly appreciated the kindness of these friends, who did so much for his relief, as they were not rela- tives. After a time he grew better, though still weak. At last he became tired and said he wished to go home to his mother. From that time he began to improve and finally recovered. Of six brothers, he is today the only one living. I had scarcely finished my visit, but returned with my father and brother, as mother was at that time in poor health. We were very shortly after obliged to move into another part of the village. I was now very well and insisted that mother should take the little ones and go to spend the day with Cousin Juliet while I and the young girl living with us would attend to the moving. "Mother," said I, "you need give your- self no uneasiness. I know we can do it all, and have your rocking chair and tea all ready when you come home this evening." The young girl was about my age, but I soon found she cared more about chatting with the young man who was helping to move the furniture than she did about helping me. She busied herse 1 f riding back and forth in the wagon most of the afternoon. I now concluded to take good Dr. Franklin's advice, "Help yourself, and heaven will help you," forgetting that Nature could not be overtaxed without resenting the abuse. I was so ambitious to show mother how industrious I had been, and to have all ready for her when she came, that I moved the furniture about as though I were made of iron. Finally, in lifting a bag of flour, I became suddenly dizzy and came near fainting away. Indeed the result of this over- work was, that during all the rest of that summer, I was pale, thin, and almost helpless. In the meantime, the same young gentleman, the stranger who 58 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER noticed me so intensely at my Aunt Parrish's had returned to the town of Lancaster and was living with my uncle there. As I had never made any lengthy visit to this aunt I had not, of course, ever met him. When at Columbus he said he intended going to Cleveland, having bidden good-bye to my uncle and aunt though he had been living with them some four years. But it appeared that a sight of me had changed all his plans. He went back to Lancaster, and told them he had concluded to remain with them. Soon after he spoke to my aunt about me, and begged her to give him some little present as a commis- sion, in order to have an excuse for paying me a visit. She gave him a beautiful sash of scarlet watered ribbon, shaded with white. And also a silk lace Bertha to wear around my neck. Armed with these presents he came over to our village. He went into the store of my cousin Juliet's husband, Mr. Rogers. There he found my young brother Douglas, who was at that time a clerk in the store, and soon ventured to ask Mr. Rogers if he would be kind enough to allow my brother to go with him to see his sister and do the errand given him by my aunt. "No," said Mr. Rogers, "I can not possibly spare him even for one-half hour. You see the store is full of customers. Leave your message with him, and as you say you will be obliged to return today, he will take it over this evening, that is the best I can do for you." He went home most sadly disappointed. Our physician now advised mother to send me from home, as the change might benefit me. Aunt King hearing of my delicate health had sent an urgent invitation for me to come and stay with her until I should be restored. In the meantime I had in some way received an invitation that the stranger was by no means averse to me, and I rather dreaded accepting the invitation on that account. But finally went. It was dinner time when I arrived, and I found him at the house watching for me, and looking very happy. He remarked that he had heard of my ill health, but was glad to see me looking better than he expected. "Now," thought I to my self, "I will wait after this until the clerks are gone, before going down to my meals, then I shall miss seeing him." So I did, until the din- ner hour of next day when going in I found William seated there. My aunt said to him, "Why, William, what keeps you FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW AT ER 59 here so long?" "Well," said he, "I have been waiting for my dessert," nodding his head toward me. 1 mean to have the pleasure of seeing Miss Belinda before I go back to the store." I soon found it of no use for me to wait. "Face the music" I must. With William it was only a question of time. My aunt having found that I had never made a fine shirt by myself told me that she thought my education quite deficient, and as her son was in need of some, set me to work. Accordingly I was very busy all the week, and glad to rest when Sunday came, more especially as I had found an entertaining book to read. But inasmuch as William made himself at home all over the house I found some difficulty in selecting a spot where I would not be disturbed. At last I opened the large dining room door, and planted myself behind it. Secure as I thought from all intruders. Soon after I heard some one going up stairs and down in all directions over the house. I well knew the springing footstep, and that William was eagerly looking for me. Finally I heard him say to my aunt, "Do you know where Belinda is? I have been looking everywhere for her." "Cer- tainly, she must be in the house," said aunt, "as this is Sun- day. Look about. She is hidden somewhere with a book I expect." All at once he thought of this door, and suddenly threw it back exclaiming "There, I have found you at last." I jumped up saying "Is it possible that even Sunday is not safe from your intrusion?" Looking at me for a moment he said : "Doubtless I was wrong, forgive me and I will offend no more." And quickly turning on his heel he left me. I went to the window, and loking out saw him hastily striding down the street. But his anger was of short duration for love can not long cherish animosity. I went out almost every evening with the young gentle- men and ladies of the village, and received considerable atten- tion. There were two gentlemen, however, who came more especially to see me, William Foster and a Mr. K. One evening as the clock struck ten, Mr. K. turned to William saying, "Well, the hour has come when politeness bids us retire." "Very well," said Wiliiam, "you can go if you wish, but I am not yet ready." AYhen Mr. K. left William said, "Now r , Belinda, do you know I have half a mind to poison him with some of his own drugs. 60 FAMILY MEMOIRS— AT WATER He has no business here, and I intend to come every time he does, and be the last to go home." Next day Mr. K. sought an opportunity to explain to my uncle his intentions with regard to me, intimating that William Foster was endeavoring to supplant him. "I have the means" said he "to make your niece comfortable while he has not." "Well," said my uncle, "I can soon settle that difficulty. I will ask Belinda which she prefers. She shall decide the question for herself. I will ask her this very day, and tell you her answer." That evening my uncle said to me : "I have a question to ask you, and I wish you to answer me truly." I looked at him, wondering why he looked so grave. "Well now," he said, "which gentleman do you prefer, Mr. Foster or Mr. K? "Uncle," I said, "I respect them both." "Now," said he, "that won't do. I must have a de- cided answer. Mr. K. is a druggist in good business, in fact is what the world calls rich, and I believe him to be a Christian. William Foster has nothing. Which do you love the best?" "Well, uncle," I said, "I prefer William Foster." "All right," said my uncle, "I have now done my duty. You have chosen the man poor in this worlds goods, but if you think you can be happier with him I have nothing to say." William came that evening to plead his own cause. I told him I knew there were others he could easily find, who could help him to begin the world better than I. "No," said he, "while I have these hands I ask nothing from anyone. What is money without love?" I reminded him of the old Proverb,, "When want comes in at the door, love flies out of the win- dow," but all in vain. "While I live," said he, "I can take good care of you, and I see that you are not strong enough to work hard." I then said that whoever chose me must be a Chris- tian, for I knew myself to be a poor sinner, standing in daily need of help to do right, and not only that but I wanted one who. should not only walk this short life with me, but continue with me in that life which knows no ending. "I intend to be a Christian," he said. Oh fatal delusions of too many tempted souls, putting off until 'a more convenient season,' what should be done today! "I want to be honest with you Belinda," he said, "and will tell you where I fail. I am naturally quick tempered and hasty. You are different FAMILY MEMOIRS ATWATER 61 from me in this respect. Now promise to tell me whenever I so offend. I have been an orphan for many years with in un- to tell me of my faults or take an interest in my welfare. With your love and guidance 1 shall be blest indeed." Soon after this 1 went home, but spent some months previous to our marriage with my Aunt Mary Douglas getting ready for the happy event, returning home in the fall. My cousin Juliet, whom I so fondly loved, asked me one day if he to whom I had promised my hand and heart was a Christian? "No," I told her, "but he has promised to be one." "My dear cousin," she said, "I can not tell you how greatly 1 fear for your happi- ness." She wrote me a loving" note, which she handed me on the morning" of my marriage, containing her kindest wishes land advice. And inasmuch as my father's house w r as small she now insisted upon giving me the wedding party. She said, ""Your mother has always been a second mother to me, and I am rejoiced if I can save her any trouble." My Uncle Butler of whom I have before spoken, was now engaged to a beautiful young lady who had been visiting in our town for some time. This young lady was my bridesmaid and my uncle the grooms- man. About thirty particular friends were invited and all went off pleasantly. I am now the only one of that bridal party of four who stood together who are still living. Father, mother and two brothers have long since entered the land of the blest. Little did I dream that evening that in the noble form of my beloved husband, there even then lurked that insidious and fatal disease, consumption. Our wedding trip was short, only twenty-five miles distant to the capital of the State, Columbus. Southeast of there was to be our future home, in the town of Lancaster. While at Col- umbus we visited all the places of interest, the State prison and different asylums. Since that dav, Ohio has built one of the finest prisons in the land and the asylum buildings will com- pare favorably wdth those of any other State. After reaching our new home in Lancaster I was very busy preparing for housekeeping. And these were some of the happiest days my life has ever known. In the devoted love of a kind husband, a reasonable measure of worldly prosperity, and both of us willing and anxious to assist my own family to the extent of 62 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW ATE R our ability, life seemed a joyous thing to our experience and anticipations. About four months after my marriage, my husband made me a present of a beautiful saddle, that I might go on horse back into the country. He had bought a small farm which had on it a good substantial log-house. It was about two miles from town near a hill called Mount Pleasant. He had bought this that his step-father and four step-brothers with their sister Nannie, might have a home. He had but one own sister, Sarah, older than himself, who was at this time staying with them. This sister had left Pennsylvania after the death of their mother and come out to Ohio in company with a widowed aunt who was as kind as a mother. Her step-father wrote Sarah that he wished her to come on and live with him, but the aunt insisted on coming too in order to see how she would like the new home, intending, unless she was thor- oughly satisfied, to take her back again with her. The sum mer before I was married, while my husband was East buying goods this aunt was taken very ill and died suddenly. Sarah said it grieved her deeply that her aunt must come here for her sake, and then die amid strangers. Soon after I went to see them and on hearing about this, and other family matters I passed a very pleasant day with my newly found relatives. Nannie, the step-sister, was only about fifteen, not only beautiful in person, but lovely in character. When evening came Sarab said, "Now I will take one of the horses and go with you, as you say you do not expect William can come for you." In put- ting on my new saddle the girls found it difficult to draw it very tightly, and the boys were not about at the time. My husband had placed on my feet a new pair of carpet shoes, and putting on my cloak Sarah fastened my feet in the stirrups and thus we started. It was near Christmas time and the weather very cold. When we had gone a little distance we met my husband coming for me. "Why did you come?" asked Sarah. "Well,"' he said, "I knew the saddle was a new one and I was fearful you could not draw it tight enough. I had better see to that now." Oh, no," said Sarah, "it is all right." Hardly had she said this when the saddle suddenly turned and threw me with great force upon the frozen ground, my feet still remaining fas- FAMILY MEMOIRS— A I'll '. / //. R I i3 tened in the stirrups. My husband quickly picked me up and they carried me home, where 1 was for a long time sick and helpless. Indeed I was not able to get about much before spring. Then I thoughtlessly went out to help the gardener plant seeds, wearing thin shoes, and was quite sick again. During all this time my husband was very kind, waiting on me and nursing me tenderly, often saying to me that these were the happiest days he had ever known. Soon after this he commenced the superintending of a large warehouse for a tobacco factory and was away from home much of the time. While the carpenters were putting it up he often lent a helping hand, so anxious was he to see the work progress. One day he came home and said to me, "Belinda, I do not know but I have strained by self lifting, for my breast pains me so much." We were out in the yard at the time and as he said this he coughed up a little blood and turned away quickly to hide it. But although I said nothing to him, I had seen it. Next morning he went away early, to be gone all day. My heart was full of sorrow and sad forebodings of the future and I wept myself sick. He came home sooner than I expected and saw that my eyes were swollen. \\ hen he insisted on knowing the cause I told him my fears and he made light of them, assuring me that the cough would soon pass away. But I could not be so easily pacified and could only fervently pray for his restoration. Soon after he was obliged to go East for goods and I went home to visit my mother. When I returned I persuaded her to let me [bring with me my youngest sister for company until my husband came home. So with many charges she gave her into my hands. Itelling me that should any misfortune befall her she would feel as did Jacob of old, "If I am bereaved of my children I am bereaved." Some few days after Lucy, my sister, came and ■asked if she might go with Maggie, the girl, to prayer meeting. Being engaged in something, I told her I would see about it. She went on about her play, as I thought, but some time after 1 went to call her for bed and could find nothing of her. I con- cluded she must have gone with Maggie, but about nine o'clock Maggie came in and asked, "Where is Lucy?" She said she lad not seen her. Words can not describe my distress. I sent ;or the neighbors. Some went toward the creek and others in 64 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW AT ER different directions, but without success. A neighbor's daughter said she saw her going up the hill to church. I was almost wild- with grief, and my husband away. Finally Maggie went for the sexton and he went with her to the church. Sure enough, there was Lucy lying on a bench in the back part of the church, fast asleep. When she came home I said, "Oh, Lucy, what made you do so?" She said, "When mother says she will see about it she always means to let me go." I watched her well after this and as soon as William came I took her home and said to mother, "There, take your treasure." One beautiful morning in the latter part of April I went up street to see my Aunt King. When I came to the door to start home I noticed by the appearance of the clouds that a storm was coming on. Aunt tried to prevail on me to wait, but some- thing important was to be done at home and I was sure I could reach there in time. However, I failed to do so and reached home quite wet through. The next day I was taken with a chill and soon after typhoid fever set in. For nearly three weeks I was very ill, most of the time unconscious. My mother came, and as she was one day bathing my hands my wedding ring slipped from my wasted finger. Mother said aloud, not thinking that I would notice it, "I will put this away for Wil- liam when poor Belinda is gone." I started up, saying, "What is that?" opening my eyes wide and looking at mother, whose face was red with weeping. "Yes, my daughter," she said, "we fear unless you are better very soon you must leave us." "Oh, no," said I, "I can never leave William." Little did I know how many weary years I was destined to live without my dear hus- band. Sarah, my husband's sister, came and watched day and night by my bedside. One day I felt as though my time had come, and begged her to pray with me, repeating to her those lines of Blair : "In that dread moment how the frantic soul Raves round the walls of her clay tenement; Runs to each avenue and shrieks for help, But shrieks in vain ; how wistfully she looks On all she's leaving, now no longer hers ; A little longer, yet a little longer, Oh, might she stay to fit her for her passage." FAMIL Y MEMOIRS—. ITU' A 77: R I <5 Sarah tried to quiet me, but in vain. Then mother sent For the good clergyman who married us, to pray with me until I became once more composed. Finally with the blessing of heaven and good nursing I began slowly to recover. When Sarah, who had watched and tended me so faithfully, saw that there was hope, she laughed for joy as she bathed my feet. "Why, Sarah." I said, "you remind me of Mary, who washed the Saviour's Feel with her tears and wiped them with the hairs of her head." Oh, yes," she said, "I am so rejoiced that you are spared, for you see I have none of my own to love but William and yourself. As I grew better my anxiety for my husband increased. By my persuasion he began the reading of the New Testament daily and seemed to think much of those things. The time of year now came around when he must again go East for goods. My heart was torn with doubts and fears, but I strove to busy myself about my house while he was gone. It was in the month of February when he returned. While crossing the Alleghany mountains, the coach being full inside he rode on the top of the coach. A storm of sleet came on and he was exposed to the weather. AYhen he reached home he could only speak in a whis- ker and was sick for two weeks with pneumonia. After this he failed in health and indeed was hardly able to get about all summer. He tried to arrange his business, but I begged him to go with me on the little farm, hoping that rest and freedom from care would eventually restore him. He at last consented, superintending, while there, the building of a steam sawmill. There was a lovely spring of water at the foot of the hill near the house, and here they built a nice log springhouse. There were shelves on each side for pies, and a large stone trough where they placed their butter and milk, with various conven- iences for churning. The spring was deep and cold. The sand at the bottom was white, and you could look down into the blue depths of the spring and see the water as it bubbled up over the snowy sand, renewing itself continually. I never knew the spring to be frozen over, even in the coldest day of winter. We remained there through the fall, and that year the first frost was unusually late in coming. The woods were indeed gorgeous during the Indian summer. I shall never forget the (surpassing beauty of those happy days. But though the season : 66 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW ATE R was so mild, and the fading of the summer days almost imper- ceptible, my husband's health continued gradually but surely to fail. I tried to hope against hope, and believe that he would yet be restored to me, but alas ! death was slowly claiming him for his own. As winter approached I realized the necessity of our going back to town in order to give him the comforts he required. He grew more feeble and anxious every day. We left our pleasant summer home and settled ourselves in town. One day, having been out on some errand, and drawing near the house, I heard; his voice praying earnestly. Coming to his bedside, I said, "JesuS; has promised to help and comfort all who are weary and heavy laden." "But," he said, "do you think he will pardon my in- gratitude and forgetfulness of him all these many years?" I brought the Testament and read to him these words: "God soi loved the world that he gave his only begotten son that who- soever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." Soon after this our little boy was given us. Oh, how grateful were we for this gift. William said, "Now if I could only live to help you rear him how happy might we be." It was a bitter cold winter and my nurse was taken suddenly ill. She was obliged to leave me with only a little girl to care for me. One night the weather became even more intensely cold and my dear little babe was taken with something like croup. I was frightened and, calling Julia, told her to warm some water quickly and get the bathtub. Jumping from the bed, I placed my baby in the water, rubbing him well with flannel cloths. I thought not of the danger to myself, but had barely gotten back into bed before I was taken with a chill, followed by a burning fever. My babe grew worse. We sent for my aunt, who came and stayed with me. I said to her, "How often has mother told me that none but a mother can know the depth of the love so mysteriously given. Now I understand it all." My husband was lying on his couch looking at the little sufferer when sud- denly the baby was taken with a spasm. William was so troubled that he sobbed aloud. After awhile, when the babe seemed better, my aunt came to me and said they thought, on my hus-' band's account, they had better take it home with them ancj there nurse it. I consented, hard as it was for me to part with it FAMILY MEMOIRS- ATWATER That night about one o'clock it died. She came nexl morning parly to tell us our treasure had gone to Him who said, "Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven." ( >h, how I begged to see it once more, but the}' said that both myself and husband were too weak to bear the excitemet and so we must be resigned. "Nom ." William said, "I have but one more tie to bind me to this earth. When I go I leave you in His hands Who has promised never to 'leave or forsake those who trust in Him'." The spring came on with its occasional warm and sultry days, adding to his weakness. It was now about eight weeks since we had buried our baby. One morning he called me to him and said, "Belinda, before many days I shall go home." I burst into tears, sobbing as though my heart would break. He said, "If you love me, try and bear up under it. I can not talk to you when I see your grief." I sat with him that night until late, when he begged me to lie down and rest. He appeared so urgent that I turned to go. But he called me back, saying, "How can I say good-by?" Then, placing his hand on my head, he added, 'We need not say good-by, for at the longest it will be but a little while before we meet there" (pointing upward). "Now go. but come the moment I call for you." The watchers came in for the night and I threw myself on a couch to be ready when he should call. They left at four o'clock, but I was so worn out I did not know when they went. About five he called me : "Come quick, Belinda." I was there in a moment. "Open the Prayer Book," he said, "and read what I asked of you the other day to read in my last hour." I found the place he had already marked, and read, he repeating it after me. It was this: "Oh, Lord, most holy; Oh, God, most mighty; Oh, holy and merciful Savior, thou most worthy Judge Eternal, suffer us not at our last hour, for any pains of death, to fall from Thee." I held up his arms toward heaven, while the great drops of perspiration stood on his brow. The last words that fell from his lips were "Wash me, dear Jesus, wash me in Thy precious blood." Had eifany one told me I could ever have passed through such an hour ■of anguish I should have said, "Never, never." All that day aland the next I suffered more than tongue can tell, yet was un- it able to shed a single tear, and not until we carried my husband to 68 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW ATE R his last resting place and I beheld the spot where lay the form of my darling babe beside the newly prepared grave, could I weep. Then the long-pent grief came in floods to relieve my I burdened heart, a blessed change. My only thought was, "Oh, that there was a place ready for me, too, beside my loved ones." Had I been a heathen how gladly would I have laid myself there. In this hour of crushing grief I could only pray, "Great Healer of Souls, help thou me, for vain is the comfort of earthly i friends." But I had still my parents left to me, and in a few I days, after all was settled, I left the scene where I had been so j:| happy in my wealth of earthly love and went sadly back to make j my future home with them. When I reached there I found a message urgently awaiting me to go down and stay for a time s with my Aunt Douglas. My uncle was absent from home much ... of the time on business, and aunt, being lonely, thought it would be well for me to come and rest with her. Only the summer pre- vious had William visited with me there, and we had looked forward to a long and prosperous future. Now all was changed and I must henceforth walk life's weary way alone. It was indeed agony to my wounded spirit. I went, however, and re- mained for a time. One day I said to her, "Aunt, I must go .1 from here. Every spot recalls my beloved husband. I must go I and seek some occupation to fill my thoughts and busy my j hands." She seemed surprised and said, "Is there anything I can give or do for you?" "No, no," I said, "you can never know my utter desolation and loneliness unless you should one day be called to pass through the same deep waters. From you I have received infinite kindness and love, for which I am truly grateful, but now I must leave you." She saw for herself the true state of the case and said no more. In a few days after I left for home. In the meantime a school for young ladies was about to be opened there by an accomplished teacher from the East. An assistant was needed in the primary department. My application for the position was accepted and thus in the care and instruction of these little ones my mind found the employ- ment it so greatly needed, while the transfer of some portion of my lost affections made me measurably happy and contented. I have before mentioned something of my brother next younger than myself, at this time clerking for my cousin's hus- III! FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER 69 band, Mr. Rogers. When but eleven years old he was obliged to jo to work. Father, being a man of scholary tastes, had little of :he domestic in his composition. Caring greatly for books, he ihought but little of the practical, and thus his family were often leedy, sometimes even pinched for the comforts of life; so thai his brother, being the eldest son, was early forced to do for both lis mother and himself. He was at first placed with a merchanl h the town who had no children of his own and therefore had ittle sympathy for the young. He proved, indeed, a hard nias- er. My brother was a slender boy and growing rapidly, but le required him to be a boy of all work — in the store, in the house, in the stable, indeed everywhere, he pressed him tar be- I'ond either ability or strength. One morning when my mother "ose she saw Douglas sitting on the topmost rail of the back : ence. Going down to speak with him, she found he had left lis place, never, as he declared, to return ; it was too much for lesh and blood to bear. Mother talked long with him, using wery possible argument, telling him how she depended on his exertions, and encouraging him to think that something better vould ere long occur to brighten his path. But he was obdurate dnd unyielding. Finalhy her tears began to fall. Without a word le got down from the fence, turned and ran as swiftly as a leer back to his hated employer and post. What self refused o do, a mother's all-prevailing tears accomplished. My hus- band had ever been strongly attached to Douglas. Just before [le died he left him as a remembrance his handsome gold shirt >in and velvet vest to recompense him for many little acts of pindness. Shortly after this my cousin's husband took him into lis employ, where he remained for many years, and finally was piade partner in the establishment. The cousin Juliet, whom my mother brought to Ohio, and vith whom my brother now lived, had always been in delicate lealth, but was ever ready to befriend our family in every way Possible, although not always able to do what she would, as her msband was a man of the world and devoted to the acquisition if money. He was many years older than she and while uni- formly kind was in some points rather unyielding and peculiar. My sister next younger was now about fourteen and backward |)f her age. My cousin advised sending her away to boarding 70 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER school, and as I found I could secure a situation as teacher of a seminary in the northern part of the State, I decided to go and take her with me. We remained there some time until my sister's health failed and I was advised to bring her home. Shortly after I went to spend the day with my cousin. I found her resting on the lounge, looking pale and sick. Upon inquiry she told me that she thought she had taken a heavy cold from helping the girl bring in some wet clothes. The following day a fever set in, which increased slowly but surely. She woul fall into a stupor, from which she would rouse at times, and her mind appear as clear as when in health. In these lucid interval she would converse very earnestly with her friends about her For every one she seemed to have some special and appropriate message pointing them to that brighter world for which this i but the preparation. Finally her summons came and she was transported from earth to heaven, leaving her husband with two] precious children deprived of her love and tender care. He husband survived for many years, finally marrying a young sis ter of his wife and passing through many and varied sorrows,, among which was the loss of the earthly possessions for which he had toiled so faithfully. Our family afflictions seemed just about this period to be es pecially multiplied. The husband of my Aunt Parrish living in Columbus, was, as I have said, also a lawyer, doing a flourishing business. He was an inveterate tobacco chewer and formed m habit of keeping the weed constantly in one corner of his mouth. Finally a sore made its appearance just outside of his lower lip which became a constant source of irritation. He consulted aj physician, who said it was possible that the tobacco had con tained some slow poison which had produced this trouble. H< abandoned the use of it, but it was now too late to remedy the evil. In about a year it proved to be a malignant form of cancer, spreading rapidly. The best medical advisers of the East were consulted, but without avail. They used the most severe out- ward applications and the most scientific remedies known, but all to no purpose. He had always been extremely careful and proud of his personal appearance, and his mortification was now so great that he refused to see his nearest friends. My aunt nursed him most faithfully, scarcely leaving him for an hour.. FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW .ITER 71 He was unable to eat without the greatest difficulty, and wasted away to a skeleton. Poor man! He had nothing to comfort him except the pleasures of this present world. I lis wife strove to point his restless and agonized spirit to Mini who died for sinners, but his mind was dark and wild, while pain of body was too great to permit any concentration of his mental powers. And thus he finally passed away. He was a man of talent and fine worldly address, a kind husband and father, but, alas, not a Christian. She had a son now grown, and already admitted to the bar, but very shortly after he, too, died very suddenly, leaving her lonely and desolate indeed. Her remaining children, however, strove to render her last days comfortable and she lived for many years solaced by their affectionate ministrations. About this time my Uncle King of the town of Lancaster, the same who held my precious boy when he died, was taken with something resembling dropsy. They went with him to consult some distinguished physician in Cincinnati, stopping for a few days with my Aunt Douglas. They also remained there for a time on their return, taking home with them for a visit her second son, Albert, now verging upon manhood, or, rather, in his teens. In the meantime one of my Aunt Mary's neighbors died, leav- ing her little family to be scattered. Her husband was a brother lawyer and an intimate friend of my uncle's. They sympathized with him deeply and my aunt finally invited the eldest daughter, Annie, now about twelve years of age, to make her home with them until her father could make arrangements to send her East to school. Uncle King seeming to improve as they moved about, they went to take Albert home, remaining again for a few days. Annie was now quite at home with my aunt, who devoted much of her time to her care and amusement. But in my aunt's desire to minister to the comfort of this invalid uncle Annie was for the time almost forgotten. All the loneliness of her motherless condition rushed upon her afresh. There was a shelter between the washhouse and kitchen, to which she quickly fled, and there, hidden, as she imagined, she gave vent to her grief in sobs and tears. Suddenly some one clasped her around the waist and said, "Oh, Annie, what is the matter?" "I am all alone," she said; "no one cares for me, no one loves 72 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER me now." "Yes, Annie," Albert said (for it was he, then a boy about thirteen years of age), "I care for you and love you, too." "No," said she, "you shall not love me; I don't want your love." "Well," he said, "you can not prevent it; I mean to love you always whether you care to have me or not." Shortly after she went away for several years to an Eastern seminary, but they never forgot each other. While I was with my aunt at one time Annie had just returned from school. Albert had also been absent in Kentucky for some time, but came home and that evening was invited with a party of young people to meet the newcomer. The next morning I inquired how he had enjoyed the evening. "Oh, excellent," he answered; "I saw there an angel — yes, cousin, a veritable angel." "But, Albert," said I, "we have now none but fallen angels, remember." "Well now, cousin," he said, "I don't know about that." I then inquired the color of the dress she wore. "White, faultless white," he said, "with short sleeves, hair black as the raven's wing, brilliant eyes to match, and smiling ruby lips." "Well, Albert," said I, "you will win a treasure if she proves as lovely in mind and disposi- tion as you seem to think her in person." "Oh, but," said he,; "she once told me she did not want my love." "Now mind you," said I, "you remember the old adage, 'faint heart never won fair lady'." He persevered and won the angel of his affections, and if I may judge aright, although many years have passed, yet in his eyes she is an angel still. My Uncle King living in the village of Lancaster, had an elder brother who had made considerable money by trading with the Indians at an early day. He was a sharp business man and my uncle was for many years his partner in the mercantile business, accumulating with him quite a fortune. He, however, remained a confirmed old bachelor. Both were portly, fine-looking men. But this brother had an ungovernable temper when fairly roused. One day when something greatly displeased him he became furious, using the most terrible oaths. In the very midst of his blasphemies he was suddenly stricken with paralysis. Although he afterward partially recovered, he never spoke again. His tongue was entirely palsied. Did this happen by chance? My uncle waited upon him for many years, and had he been his own son could not have been more affectionate, watchful or patient. FAMILY MEMOIRS— .ITU. ITER 7$ In this sad way he lived for fourteen years, dying only a short time before my uncle. This was indeed a mercy, as, being \er\ headstrong and peculiar, no one else probably could have man- aged him. After my uncle bad been down to Cincinnati to consult a physician they endeavored bv bis advice to keep him from any fatigue or excitement of body or mind, fearing drops) would attack the heart. And for about two years he appeared nearly the same in health. Finally there was a suit in court in which it was absolutely necessary for him to appear and give his testimony. He seemed in no way excited, but after returning home seated himself to rest. My aunt, being busy, forgot him for a time and on sending the servant to look after him she I found him sitting upright, looking as though asleep, but he bad calmly passed away. He was a man of noble and generous character, humane and charitable to the poor, devoted to bis i family, taking an interest in the welfare of all who came under bis roof. Indeed, he was universally beloved by all who knew him. I was at this period still engaged in teaching in our vil- lage. One day my husband's brother Reuben came over in great I haste, inviting me to return to Lancaster with him, as his twin I brother, Nathaniel, was very ill, having the same disease of which my husband died — consumption. After the death of William the farm had been sold, and the two brothers had rented a small house in town for their father and Nannie to live with them. Reuben was a good scribe and found employment in that way, while Nathaniel drove the coach between there and Zanesville. But the winter was severe and his exposure brought on trouble of the lungs. He had been ailing for some time, but as they : knew I was engaged in teaching they had not sent me an}- word of his sickness. He kept growing weaker even' day and finally asked them to send for me. Reuben said, as we rode over, "Belinda, you don't know how anxiously he has spoken of you. speaking especially of how often you have counseled him to seek an interest in the Saviour while yet in health. This morning I started for you before daylight to satisfy him." We arrived at their little home about four o'clock that afternoon. When I went in I found the kind neighbors about him and he propped up on pillows awaiting me. He looked pale, but his countenance beamed with joy as he saw me. "Oh, Belinda," he said, "how 74 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW ATE R I prayed to be spared to see your dear face once more." The excitement appeared for a time to rouse him. He seemed so bright that I told him he must surely be better. "No," he said, "in body failing, but in spirit happy. I could not rest until I told you of my struggles and prayers. Jesus has heard my. earnest petitions and now I can not describe to you my peace and joy." Nannie was overcome with sorrow and his old father groaned aloud. Reuben bathed his fevered hands and brow while Nathaniel went on to tell me, in his weakness, how kind a brother Reuben had always been. "I am only sorry," said he, "that I took no better care of myself and have made them all so much trouble." "I said "Nannie, had you not better rest and try to fall asleep?" It was now nearly one o'clock and he closed his eyes and soon seemed to rest calmly. I was seated by his bedside and Reuben also. Finally, after some time, Reuben turned and looked at me, then placing his ear close to his face, he said, "He has gone home." I was amazed, but it was indeed so. He had fallen asleep in Jesus. Reuben, who had until now controlled his grief, fearful of disturbing his dearly loved brother, gave full vent to his feelings. The family gathered around him. I could not help exclaiming, "Oh, death, where is thy sting? Oh, grave, where is thy victory? Thanks be to God who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." After the funeral I returned home and went on with my school. Teaching was our Saviour's vocation while on earth and has ever been to me a source of the purest pleasure. It has diverted my mind from my own sorrows, and has, I humbly trust, been of some good to others. During my vacations I sometimes went over to the village of Lancaster to visit my Aunt King and a cousin now married and living there. Soon after Nathaniel's death Nannie died and only a few months after Reuben also, leaving the old stepfather quite alone. While there for a few days some one came with a mes- sage that the old man had been stricken with palsy, and, having no children to care for him, had been taken out to the Infirmary. My cousin, at my urgent request, procured a carriage and we went out to visit him. It was situated some seven miles in the country and was nicely kept. The gentleman and wife who had taken charge of it were well known to me in former days, and FAMILY MEMOIRS .ITU. ITER 75 I was thankful for the assurance I felt thai my old friend would be kindly looked after. When 1 arrived they led me into his sick room. All was neat and comfortable. I went to the bedside and said, "Grandfather, do you know me?" "< )h, yes, Belinda," he said, "how could 1 forget you?" But his next exclamation was "Take me away from here. This is the poorhouse. Don't you knowr that?" He had come from Ireland and had a per fret horror of poorhouses as they were kept in his native land. I told him I had talked with the physician and he said he must not be moved, or it might be the cause of his death, and perhaps if properly nursed and cared for there he might yet live for many years. "Be patient," I said, "and as soon as you are able you shall be moved. This is a good physician here. Mr. and Mrs. M. are excellent people and have promised to give you the best of care." But he continued to talk wildly about the poorhouse. "Grandpa," I said, "do you remember that our Saviour was born in a stable? Are you or I any better than He?" But he only gave vent to a flood of tears, his mind being evidently weakened by disease. I told them I would watch with him that night, but they thought that possibly he was already excited by seeing me and that rest and quiet would calm him dowm. The physician said it was doubtful whether he lived over the night unless he was quieted, so I left the poor old man. Next morn- ing I went out early, but sure enough he had died during the night. And thus the whole family, one after another, had gone to "sleep the sleep that knows no waking." My brother Douglas had now saved sufficient money to pur- chase a small cottage for his parents. From my income as a teacher I managed to help him paint and modernize it, placing a neat lattice work around the little porch in front, thus adding greatly to our comfort and happiness. Mother planted some choice flowers with morning glories and nasturtiums about the lattice, which grew most luxuriantly, helping to shade the porch during the heat of the day and looking very lovely as we sat there at evening. That spring and summer I was quite happy teaching a number of young ladies, often going with them into the woods to search for flowers, which we copied from nature with the pencil. Next door to our little cottage came to live a German family, 76 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW AT ER fresh from their native land. They could talk but little English. One of the brothers invested his few dollars in a grocery and thus they strove to earn their frugal living. The father and mother were aged, but still active and healthy. The old gentle- man was quite spry moving about the shop. All the boys in the neighborhood would watch when the son Fred went down street and then make grandfather a visit, as he never failed to give each one a stick of candy at such times. He loved children and delighted in thus gratifying them. Often in the morning I raised the parlor window, which looked into their yard, and Saw the old grandmother with the little boy Carl on his knees beside her saying his morning prayer to our "Fader in Himmel." She kept beside her a little switch, to which she would sometimes resort if he failed in obedience. The grandfather almost always had a flower in his mouth, or in his buttonhole, occasionally looking at it with his kindly eyes or putting it to his nose to smell. The younger members of the family seemed to be in great fear lest the Americans would impose upon them. At one j time Fred had been preparing their garden for the planting of seeds. My sister, who had been washing, carelessly threw her wash water out in such a way as to run into their garden and] flow over the newly made bed, quite spoiling his labor. After a time I heard some very loud and excited talking, and going to the window saw Fred and Sophy take up a barrel of wash water which had been accumulated in their yard and, leaning the barrel over the fence, pour its contents into our garden, exclaiming with great apparent satisfaction, "Now see how you likes it." This expression afterward became quite a household word with us whenever we felt disposed to make any evil return to each other. This German family being, however, very care- ful and industrious, as well as honest, became finally good and valuable citizens. We lived in this cottage for quite a long period when my brother for some reason sold it, and after a little time bought another and larger home. It was a new brick house, but situated on the farther edge of the village. Several families of colored people lived quite near. Nearly opposite in a com- fortable little log cabin dwelt a colored family by the name of Decker. The old woman went by the familiar title of FAMILY MEMOIRS ATWA1 ER 77 "Aunt Phebe." They had three boys, Elijah, James and Daniel. Often in the long summer evenings, Aunt Phebe would seat herself near the door of the little lmt, and there endeavor to instruct the children, by teaching them t" repeat and sing" her favorite hymns. She provided herself with a long switch, which would reach across the house, consisting of only one room, and with this in hand, she was ready to begin the good work. Often one of the hoys, becoming rest- less, would attempt to slip out the back door, when a timely application of the rod in question, would quickly assist him to resume his seat near her on the floor. She would after- ward sing the hymn the)' had been repeating, coming down upon the chorus with wonderful animation and emphasis. We, who were listeners from our own door, directly oppo- site, enjoyed these exercises immensely. Many a moonlight night would the whole family join in singing that familiar hymn "YYhar now is de Hebrew Children" going through with the name of every Patriarch and prophet mentioned in Holy Writ, and coming down with delighted and soul stirring energy on the ending "Gone to de Promised Land." When anyone inquired of her the names of her sons, she would straighten up and with uncommon pride reply, "Wall now, I call de oldest (you Dan, stop your foolin dar, dis min nit, or I'll take my shoe and war you out). I call de oldest, Elijah, de prophet Decker. Den de next (you Jim, behave yourself dar) de next is James, de postle, Decker, and de youngest, and de smartest of all is Dannel in de lion's den, Decker. Dem are, as you see, de names of all my children, honey." Her husband Uncle William Decker was a highly refined and educated colored gentleman in his own opinion. He de- lighted in high sounding words, managing to insert them in all his conversations with great satisfaction. Being called upon one day to move a stove for us he and his son placed it in the proper position and then standing back to survey it he said, "Dat, Lady, will now suffice, according to my suppo- sition in de actual removing of dat piece of furniture." They had all the superstitious fears common to their race. One dark night on the 4th of July, there was a display of fire- works in the town, which looked quite grand in the darkness. 78 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW ATE R But to Aunt Phebe, they were indeed awful. In great haste she came running over to our house saying, "Oh honey, gist see. They are daring de Almighty to his very face, sending dat fire into de highest hebben. I speck he be so mad he burn us all up for de morning light." I tried to quiet her fears, by telling her there was no danger and she might go home and sleep in peace. "Well," she finally said, "I guess honey, I is a poor black niggah and don't know much." My youngest "brother, now about thirteen, was like all boys of that age — full of mischievous devices. He would go up stairs and from the chamber window opposite her house, shoot small stones from a little pop-gun so that they would rattle like hail upon her roof, quickly concealing himself so that he could not be seen. "Aunt Phebe" would come out and look, then stooping down would collect the stones and carry them into the house. Thus he amused himself for days. They finally collected a meeting of their neighbors and described the terrible phe- nomena. Going over there on an errand she called me to look at the stones saying, "Honey, dey fell from de sky and we ponded some of em up, and they smelled jest like brim- stone — You know de Bible tells us of signs and wonders be- fore dis world shall be burned up. I guess de time is a draw- ing nigh." Finally my mischievous brother, having amused himself to his heart's content, let the poor ignorant creatures rest, and they recovered from their fright. When we re- moved to another house, I engaged old Aunt Phebe to scrub and clean the one we had left. Coming afterwards to look at the result of her labors, I said, "Well, now Aunt Phebe, this is the nicest job of cleaning I have seen for a long time." "Oh yes," she said, "plenty of good work in old Aunt Phebe yet, but everybody don't get it out of her. Now, Honey, don't you never forget dat." Some time after, hearing she was very sick, I went to see her and as I left asked her if she looked to Jesus. "Yes, honey," she said, "I's got no one else to look to — he knows I'se nothing but a poor black child anyway." After lingering some time the poor old soul died and the family was broken up and scattered. This brother of whom I have spoken was a favorite with lis all. His intellect was of the highest order and he had FAMILY MEMOIRS— AT WATER 79 naturally a noble disposition. He learned to read almost without an effort and his powers of memory were, like my father's, most marvelous. A knotty problem was to him simply pastime. And as a linguist Ik- had few superiors. Always first in his class — both in academy and college, he was ever ready to lend a helping hand to those less gifted than himself. When only about fifteen there was a revival in the Presbyterian Church of our place, and George was among the converts. My eldest brother was an Elder in this church, and was of course highly gratified. In the prayer meetings held by the young men, George took an active part and every one loved to hear him pray or speak. My elder brother in- dulged the hope that he might enter the ministry and told him he would do all in his power to help him if such was his desire. To this end he sent him away to college. But there he met with companions who sneered and scoffed at religion and ere long he was led to think lightly of the faith he had so impulsively embraced, and abandon the intention once so earnestly formed. He wrote to my eldest brother ■of his change of desire and opinion, which of course greatly disappointed him. Cool and determined himself, and know- ing from his own experience or temperament so little of the peculiarities which marked an opposite nature, he did not attempt persuasion or that lenience which might have suc- ceeded in winning him back to the right — and the harshness he deemed it a duty to exhibit towards him, only drove him farther in the course he had entered upon. About this time the Mexican War broke out, and in a moment of rashness George enlisted, being persuaded to the step by some young friends wdio had been with him in college. My oldest brother w r as now married and the home broken up, so that mother had no longer a shelter of her own to offer him, and he was too proud spirited to ask aught of the brother who had vir- tually cast him off. Thus he went into the war. My mother mourned bitterly over it, for well she knew the temptations and besetments of army life. Here he fixed upon himself inevitably those habits which finally wrecked one of the noblest minds that God ever made. Naturally witty and at- tractive, brilliant, generous, kindly and free, he met the fate 80 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER of thousands of other young men in every age and clime, and yet in moments of sober thought he mourned bitterly over his own failings. How often have we heard him chant in his peculiar way, those pathetic lines of Robert Burns : "Then gently scan your brother man, Still gentler sister woman. Tho' they may gang a little wrong, To step aside is human. One point must still be greatly dark, The moving why they do it. And just as lamely can ye mark, How far perhaps they rue it. Who made the heart, 'tis He alone, Decidedly can try us. He knows each chord, its various tone, Each spring, its various bias — Then at the balance lets be mute. We never can adjust it. What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted." In the prime of his manhood he perished and with Infinite mercy we can but leave him rejoicing to believe what the Psalmist has told us "For he remembereth that we are dust." During all these years I was busy teaching, either at home or in the country, sometimes called away from my post by sickness in the family, or perhaps resting for a few weeks. During one of these vacations the General Convention of the Episcopal Church was held in the city of Cincinnati, and having received an urgent invitation from friends residing there I con- cluded to attend. It was indeed an occasion of great interest. Bishop Chase was present, now quite aged and venerable look- ing. He wore a black velvet cap on his head, and in deliver- ing his address was obliged to sit, as he was now growing quite feeble. At the close of each day's proceedings, the friends of the clergy and other strangers were courteously invited to the numberless places of interest and entertainment in the city. All the galleries of art were generously thrown open and many parties given by prominent citizens. As my Aunt Douglas was in the city I went to many of these in FAMILY MEMOIRS— AT WATER 81 company with her and enjoyed everything exceedingly. We also attended the State fair, then being held there. And altogether had a most delightful time. Our family were at this time living on Main street, in one of a row of brick houses. These were two stories high and had a basement kitchen. And base it proved in every sense of the word, for there I shall always think my mother laid the foundation for years of sickness, suffering and eventually death. I now went again into the country to teach and found a pleasant home in the family of a Mr. R.. a wealthy farmer living a few miles south of town. But shortly alter mother was taken very ill and I was obliged to return home. This was In one of the great cholera years when all diseases partook of that type. She was dangerously ill and after nursing her night and day and seeing her on the way to recovery, I was taken down suddenly myself. In the meantime my brother George had returned from Mexico. Mother was sick in the little bedroom on the porch and T was lying in one of the rooms in the third story. George came upstairs to see me. ""Belinda," said he, "this is even hotter than Mexico. You will die if you stay here." "Well," I said, "I have no where else to go." "Yes," he said, "we will make a cot for you in the parlor, and I will carry you down." "No," I said, "you could not carry me.". "And why not," said he. "I have helped to carry many a poor fellow off the battle field, and if you will place your arms round my neck I can soon carry you." Ac- cordingly he had the cot prepared and carried me down very carefully. After he had seen me all fixed to his satisfaction, he fairly danced about the room for joy. "Now," he said, ""we will soon have you well." Rut each day I continued to grow worse, until my case was almost hopeless. A council of physicians was called and they told my parents there was little encouragement to give. "Well," said father, "then I must let her know the truth." So coming up and seating him- self by my bedside he communicated to me their opinion, ask- ing if I could be resigned. Weak as I was and scarcely able to speak I could only murmur, "I know that my Redeemer liveth, and I am not afraid to trust myself in his merciful hands." I then closed my eyes and breathed a silent prayer 82 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER that God might spare me to care for my aged parents. Father went out and told mother he believed I would yet recover. And so it proved, although many weary weeks rolled by be- fore I was fairly convalescent. Many long nights did kind friends watch over and nurse me — some of whom I can never forget. My dear cousins were unremitting in their love and attention. Among other friends, was a former pupil, married and full of cares, but she left her home to come and stay with me for days. Her husband went into the woods for game of all kinds to prepare for me, and tempt my capricious appetite. For all these favors I can never cease to thank and bless them — one and all. Mother, however, never recovered from that terrible summer. She became from that time a confirmed invalid. In those times, morphine was greatly used, and to quiet her pains the doctor had recourse to that, until finally the habit became so fixed that she could not live without it. My two younger brothers in the mean- time had removed to Iowa, the one to practice medicine and the other law. Mother kept her room, and much of the time her bed also, requiring constant care. About this time my eldest brother was obliged to go to Cincinnati on business. He took with him his wife and children, inviting my youngest sister also to join the party. While there a young gentleman board- ing at the hotel where they were stopping saw her and was greatly pleased with her. Shortly after their return he came to visit her. He was a young man of great moral worth, and good family. We were all favorably impressed and the re- sult was an engagement which promised a truly happy union. Some time previous to this my dear Aunt Mary had buried her husband, he having been ill but a few days. Many happy years they had walked together and the separation was to her an unspeakable sorrow and irreparable loss. My eldest brother's business now called him again to the city. It was in the depth of an inclement winter. When he went from home, if only for a few days he always came to see his mother and say a parting word. She had been more feeble than usual' and his tenderness and affection seemed to increase with her sufferings. He found her propped up in the bed with pillows that she might find rest. As he bade her goodbye, she said. FAMILY MEMOIRS- ATWATER 83 "Well, my son, you will go some time, and when you return, you will find your poor old mother gone." "Well, mother," he said, "If I were only as well prepared as yon, 1 would he willing" to go tomorrow." Me told her he felt even then most wretchedly, but hoped the journey and the physician he ex- pected to see there would bring him all right again. And -<> with his usual affectionate farewell he left her. That night proved a stormy one and several times she waked me to speak of her anxiety for him and fears for his health. In a few days a telegram came from Cincinnati t<> ln^ wife requesting" her to come down immediately as he was dangerously ill. The news affected my mother deeply and brought on a severe attack of her old complaint so that we feared for her life. She, however, rallied and then came a letter from my brother's wife saying that he appeared easier but the physician gave her no hope. Indeed he said it was impossible for him to live more than a few days at farthest. Next came a letter from him, or rather written by her at his dictation, bidding farewell to every one of his family, and trusting to meet us all in a happier and better world. The gentleman to whom my sister Avas engaged, with the son of my Cousin Juliet, now living in the city, nursed him faithfully, doing all in their power to relieve his sufferings. His disease was a complicated one, terminating, however, on the lungs. It was really consumption. Next came the sad news that they were about to bring his remains home. His work on earth was done and well done. A tender and affec- tionate son, a kind and generous brother, an indulgent hus- band, an earnest and faithful Christian, he had gone to receive his reward. My mother never looked upon his face again. She was so ill that it was thought unwise to excite her in any way. and she said she would rather remember him as she saw him when he bade her a last "goodbye," for soon they would meet in a far serener clime. This was indeed a bitter cup given her to drink. For years he had been her earthly protection and stay — and now in her old age and declining health he had "gone before" to "That unknown and silent shore." God only could comfort my poor bereaved mother — and He alone gave her strength to bear it. 84 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER The winter of his death proved unusually severe so that my Aunt Mary Douglas dared not venture to come up when Douglas was brought home. She wrote mother begging her to allow me to come down there as soon as possible as she was anxious to learn all the particulars concerning him. As mother ap- peared better I went, taking with me a small daguerreotype of my brother to give her. She had always greatly admired him and as he was named for her husband she often told mother she considered that he belonged partly to her. When I met her she spoke of him with trembling voice and tearful eyes. She pressed the picture to her lips while the tears streamed down her face. Soon to hide her grief she began talking over the interesting topics of the day. Woman's Rights was a subject very near her heart, and she looked for- ward hopefully to the day when the weaker sex, so-called, might be permitted to come forward and hold an equal place with those who have so long denied them their true privi- leges. After a short but pleasant visit I returned home to prepare for my sister's approaching marriage. New carpets were to be made and a general renovation and brightening up of the whole house to be gone through with. Aunt Douglas as well as Aunt King were expected to be present. My two brothers were still in Iowa. In our preparations for the wed- ding we strove to banish every appearance of sorrow and render all as joyous as possible. My sister had a class of young girls in the Sunday school, to whom she was greatly attached, and they were also to be present. I had, with my own hands, made father a new suit of clothes with which he was delighted. "Why Belinda," he said, "You made every- thing I have on, except my hat and shoes." The day before the wedding my sister asked father how old he thought she was. "About nineteen," he said. He would scarcely believe her when she told him she was twenty-four. The wedding passed off pleasantly. My aunts expressed themselves highly pleased with the gentleman who had won my sister and never did they have cause to alter their opinion. After the ceremony they went East on their wedding trip, as all his relatives were living there. They returned in a few weeks and my sister told us with great delight of the ^'***~ * '\ LUCY ATWATER BROWN FAMILY MEMOIRS- ATWATER 85 warm welcome she received. She met five brothers and three sisters, together with the aged mother and as her husband had not seen them for three years, the meeting was indeed a joyous one. The evening they arrived, one of the sisters, a fine musician, seated herself at the piano, while they all gathered round her. The first hymn chosen was a favorite one of their father's, now gone, and they had often united in singing it together. It was the old familiar hymn "When I can read my title clear To mansions in the skies." By the time they had finished the first verse, one of them broke down and left the room in tears. Soon, one after another gave way and followed, until none were left but the performer alone at the instrument. They were truly a loving and affectionate family, devoted to each other and read}' to make any and every sacrifice to prove their love. Some months after this I took mother for a short stay at my aunt's, she appearing better and thinking that change of scene and surroundings might still more improve her. While on this visit I attempted to have her give up the mor- phine which had become so fixed a habit, but when these ter- rible neuralgic pains came on it seemed that nothing else would quiet them. The room she occupied at my aunt's was a very large chamber, with lofty ceilings and old fashioned windows. From a child, however, I had been accustomed to pull these windows up and down at pleasure never thinking of danger. One day I saw mother was in a profuse respira- tion and knowing it would never do to allow a draught to blow over her, I stepped up to the window to draw it down when suddenly a cord which moved the pulley gave way. and the window fell upon my wrist, shattering the glass and cutting a terrible gash in my arm. I ran down to find my Cousin Albert who had studied medicine and surgery. He at once bound it up, placing a large sticking plaster over the wound but it was many weeks before it healed, and has left a terrible scar even to this day. I brought mother home soon after and as the railroad through our town had just been completed we carried her down to see the cars, telling her that when she was strong 86 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER enough she should go down upon them to visit my sister in Cincinnati. She was pleased with the thought but said she feared she would never be able to bear the fatigue of such a journey. Not long after we received a telegram from my brother-in-law, informing us that "Douglas A. Brown had arrived and that both mother and child were doing well." When some one jokingly asked my father how he came, he answered, "Well, doubtless he came like his Saviour before hi'm, in a very lowly manner — barefooted." After awhile I went down to stay with my sister for a time as she was far from strong and inexperienced in the care of children. George was at that time in the city, having returned from Iowa — and not long after was taken sick with rheumatism and brought home where he lay helpless for nearly six months, tended by my sister who was still at home, while I waited upon mother. I had a very dear old friend in the town whom, whenever I was able to find time I went to see, as her good will and sympathy, as well as advice was never wanting. Mother spared me to go and see her about once a week. Then Mrs. K. would return the visit quite often as she knew how much my mother loved to hear her cheerful voice and kindly talk. Whenever I called there her first salutation was a hearty kiss and the next was to repeat the verse of the day from her Bible. She had one of those precious little books, a text for every day in the year. One New Year's day she made mother a present of one exactly like her own, and this I read every morning when mother was unable to read it for herself. One morning when I called in on Mrs. K. I found her washing. "Now, I will not stay," I said, "for I will only hinder you." "No, indeed you will not. I was just wishing some one would come in for then I would sit down and rest. You don't suppose that I bow down and make an idol of my washboard do you?" she said, laughingly. "Conversing with those I love cheers me and fits me all the better for work." Directly here came a neighbor for some patches to mend her dress, shortly after another for some salve to dress a wound. Before I went ho'me, she brought me some apples to roast for mother with some fine grapes and a little pitcher of cider. FAMILY MEMOIRS ATWATER 87 Thus she was ever thinking- how to add to the happiness "f others. She was a member of the Church Sewing Societ) and was for many years appointed on every Thanksgiving day to disburse the offerings given to the poor, rlow often the needy blessed her for her kindness and care. Her health was generally excellent up t<> the day before her death. And with all she had her own peculiar trials. The loss of her only daughter and a son who was wanting in sense, with other trials, all gave her her full portion of the sorrow which falls to mortals here below. She often told me --lie was obliged to pray fervently for grace and strength. One day. meeting father on the sidewalk she said, "< >h grandfather, I wish you could have been at our prayer meeting last night. Gladly you would have rejoiced with us in the love of Jesus." When he came home he said, "I love to come in contact with such a spirit. She is a living epistle, known and read of all men." When the following winter came mother grew worse. A running sore made its appearance on one of her feet, doubt- less from the effects of morphine. We were obliged to keep it poulticed day and night, and in order to allay the pain give her even heavier doses of the fatal drug. After suffering in this way for 'more than three months it healed. I now hoped she would get better as she began to walk about the room. She saw how pleased I appeared to be and said nothing to dampen my joy. But she herself knew full well she would never be any better and in a day or so after told me so. The day previous she had insisted on having my sister go down to Cincinnati, telling her to remain a few days and then bring my married sister home with her. She gave me when we were left alone, a number of little commissions to execute. My youngest sister had a short time before sent her a purple chintz dress which I had made for her. This she wore the last day she ever set up. She said. "This. Amelia, may have to make her a quilt." I said, "Oh 'mother don't talk so, you are better than you have been for weeks." The next day Mrs. K. came in to see her, wishing her a merry Christmas and bringing over a supply of delicacies, as she had been taking Christmas dinner with her sister, and together they had prepared them. She said. "I told Harriet I must bring 88 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW ATE R them to you myself." There was turkey, all kinds of vege- tables, cranberries, mince and pumpkin pie, custard and dif- ferent varieties of cake. Mother only tasted them, but prized them for the loving kindness which prompted the gift. Mrs. K. was in perfect health and spirit this Christmas day. I saw her no more until the day before New Year's. That day mother was suffering greatly and in the course of the morn- ing I went over to the physician to get some medicine. As I went by her house she was standing at the front door. She said, "I hear your sister has gone down to Cincinnati ; now don't overwork yourself." I told her mother was worse — could get no rest with all I did to relieve her, and that I was glad for her sake that her health was so perfect. "Yes," she said, "I am in- deed grateful for all my comfort. This," she went on to say, "has been a joyful day to me. Mrs. B. came in and read me such a good sermon. This afternoon I am going to the society, and this evening shall go to the Methodist Church and watch the old year out and the new one in." I saw the physician and he promised to come shortly. Mother still grew worse. We made applications of hot salt, and indeed every remedy which had formerly eased her, but nothing appeared to give relief. I sent one of the neighbors again for the doctor, and when she returned she said that she had just met a number of friends carrying Mrs. K. home on a lounge. She had gone to the sewing society as she had told me she intended to do in the morning and while there was stricken with paralysis. When the physician came he pronounced the stroke a fatal one. One friend came to her bedside, and taking her hand, said, "Nancy, if you trust in Jesus press my hand." Then Mrs. K. grasped her hand closely, mur- muring some unintelligible words. Thus suddenly was one of my dearest earthly friends, who had only that morning spoken to me in words of cheer, stricken down. I was obliged to tell mother the sad news, knowing she must hear of it. "Is it pos- sible," she said, "that she is called before me?" Mrs. K.'s sister had gone directly after Christmas to Columbus and from there into the country to spend the New Year with a brother. She was sent for by telegram, but it did not reach her for two or three days. Aunt L. and Mrs. D., two devoted friends, sat up with her that night, hoping that toward morning she might rally and FAMILY MEMOIRS ATWATER be able to speak to them. But aboul daylight her breath grew shorter and soon without a sigh or groan she fell asleep in [< Aunt L. came in to tell mother, saying, "We can nuK say of her what is said of Enoch, 'lie was nut, for God took him'." She was kept on ice until the Sabbath, that her only sister might reach there. Mother was so ill that I could only leave her long enough to take a farewell look at my beloved friend. She looked as peaceful as though she had hut just fallen asleep. The house was thronged. Rich and poor, black and white, all united in testifying their respect and affection for their common friend. My poor modier continued to grow worse until her sufferings were too severe for me to bear unmoved. For three nights in >uccession I watched with her, as she was unwilling to have me out of her sight. The sister of Mrs. K. then came to stay with me, with other kind friends. Two neighbors, good nurses, of- fered to watch with her. and she finally consented, while I went in to the next neighbor's house to snatch a little rest. But she soon missed me and began calling for me. They told her I was nearly heartbroken to see her suffer so intensely. Then she said, "Tell her to come and stand by me and I will try and not utter a single groan." So Mrs. T. came over for me. I had then rested about an hour. I fell on my knees, praying my Savior to help me to witness my mother's agony. I then washed my face and felt strengthened to go once more to her bedside She was moaning most piteously. "Where, mother, is your pain?" I said. "Oh, my head, my head," she kept saying. The dreadful struggle soon spent itself for the time. Taking my hand in hers, she said, "My daughter, promise me that you will never take morphine, even though assured that it will add forty years to your life. That is the cause of these terrible sufferings." Then she added, "Soon shall I meet my mother and dearly loved son." About an hour before she died my sister and brother-in-law came from Cincinnati. When I said to her, "Mother, Lucy and brother David are here," a smile came over her face and putting her hand to her head she said, "Put on my clean cap." It was the "ruling passion strong in death," for she was always anxious to look neat and clean. With her own hands she helped to put it on. When David and Lucv came in she said. "Thev tell me you are here, but I 90 FAMILY MEMOIRS— AT WATER do not see you." Lucy was so overcome that they led her away, and in a few moments my mother's last sigh proclaimed her earthly sufferings over. She was but the shadow of her former self, only the frame which held the once active spirit remained. We were anxious that Aunt Mary Douglas should come up, but the weather was so intensely cold that she could not come. This dear aunt had for years given her all the nice wearing apparel she had and in these garments we now dressed her. A beautiful little cap, with a large square of the same material as an under handkerchief, a black silk luster dress and cape now shrouded the dear form which had suffered so long and so patiently, almost to martyrdom. She was sixty-seven when she died. A friend looking upon her said, "How wrong to mourn over such a blessed release." And so indeed we felt, for truly we could but rejoice for her, even while we wept for ourselves. A more devoted, self-sacrificing mother children never possessed. With a mind stronger than is often given to mortals, she had an un- daunted energy of purpose, and firmness in whatever she con- ceived to be duty. The deep waters through which she had been called to pass had but developed her noble nature. The fiery trials had indeed consumed the dross and refined the gold until purified by affliction she was ready for the Master's home above. For months after she was gone I seemed to hear her call when half asleep at night, and would start up, saying "What is it, mother?" until fairly conscious of the fact that her suffer- ings were ended and she had gone to dwell forever in Paradise- Father was now nearly eighty years of age — they had lived to- gether more than forty years — and I greatly feared for him. For the past few years he had grown daily more kind and thoughtful of her, never asking anything of her, but always calling upon others. Sometimes she would say, "Well, your father never thinks to ask me any more." "Why, mother," I would say, "he remembers that you are now unable to do for him and thus he shows his kindness to you." When the sad day of her burial came I watched him narrowly. As they carried her into the church I kept fast hold of his arm. The sexton had placed the seats so that he could have a full view of her as she lay in her narrow house. I looked at him and his features were convulsed with anguish, while he shook like an aspen leaf. But I placed FAMILY MEMOIRS- ATWATER 91 him so that he could not gaze so directly upon her, and saw no more agitation, only the tears streaming down his aged face. For days after he was unable to eat or sleep. This finally cul minated in a severe attack of illness, during which we nursed and tended him most carefully. At last he slowly rallied and the danger was over. When he recovered I went down once more to my Aunt Douglas, carrying with me some little mementos of my mother. Among the rest was a simple muslin cap, the gifl of my Cousin Emily on the previous Christmas. It was exquis- itely made and trimmed with the finest lace. My aunt was greatly affected when we met. As soon as she could speak she said, "Belinda, you have lost one of the best of mothers. After my mother's death I always went to her, as my eldest sister for advice, and her judgment rarely erred. I can now look hack and see how purely disinterested she was and how wise were ever her counsels." I now gave her the cap saying, "This she had on her head when she died. I removed it, and had it done up nicely for you." She took it from my hands and pressing it to her lips said, " I will keep it while I live as a precious remem- brance of my beloved sister." She then began telling me about a letter she had been writing to a celebrated Eastern physician with regard to her own health. He answered, that in order to prescribe intelligently he must see her, and she was now making her arrangements to go East with her eldest son. When he saw her he gave her minute directions as to the care she must take of herself, told her she must have her sitting-room and bedroom removed to the lower story ; avoid company and all other excite- ment, if she would prolong her life, all of which she promised to do. After leaving my aunt, I went over to Lancaster to spend a few days with an old friend living there. I had stood some years before as godmother to a son of her's, about the same age as my own, and of course was greatly attached to him. This -on had lately died. The bereaved mother wrote, begging me to come and see her that I might sympathize with her in her loss. Only the Christmas before he had written me a beautiful letter, full of hope and youthful aspirations. Now, alas ! he was gone. My visit to her was indeed one of sad pleasure and mournful satisfaction. While there we went together to weep over the graves of our "loved and lost" — our only comfort the assurance 92 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW ATE R that in a far happier clime we should once more be united. When I returned home I found a letter awaiting me from my sister in Cincinnati, begging me to come down to the city, and place myself under the care of their own Homeopathic physician, as I suffered much from general weakness and debility. My sister had become a convert to this system, and was anxious I should give it at least a trial. After seeing Doctor Peck I told him the long siege I had passed through with my mother's sickness and that now the great stimulus to effort had been removed. I presumed the reaction had followed, which perhaps no physician could relieve. He, however, attended me faithfully for some time and I began slowly to improve. After a while he was called East by urgent business, and came to say farewell, leaving me sufficient medicine to last during his absence. In bidding him good-bye I told him I should pray most fervently for his safe and speedy return. He thanked me, giving me some earnest advice with regard to myself — entire rest of both body and mind he had absolutely insisted upon. I used his prescriptions and found myself daily improving. We were looking for his return, when one morning brother David came home with the sad and startling news that there had been a railroad accident, and this good physician, noble friend and true Christian, had been instantly killed. Though many had been severely wounded he was the only one actually killed. A dear friend with whom he was traveling said they were sitting together when daylight began to dawn. The doctor awoke, and as was his custom, bowed his head in fervent prayer. At that moment the friend was called and went to take his seat in another part of the car. Suddenly there was a crash, and looking back he saw that the doctor had been struck upon the head by a timber from the broken car, and died without time for even a groan. In one instant, while engaged in prayer, his "lamp trimmed and burn- ing," he was translated to the presence of his Saviour. I had often heard him converse with my sister, and every word seemed to breathe of purity of character and an earnest Christian life. For fourteen years he had been, he said, an Allopathic physician when greater light dawned upon him and he changed his faith to Homeopathy. We all went to his funeral. Never have I witnessed such FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER 93 universal sorrow in any congregation. The speaker, as he dwell (upon his spotless example and kindness to the poor, his tender :love for all with whom he came in contact could only mingle his tears with their's, and bid them follow in his footsteps thai they might be permitted to claim his final reward. In a few days I was taken very ill. My brother-in-law brought in a strange physician. Life hung on a slender thread but how : faithfully my brother-in-law watched over me for many days. My sister was unable to nurse me, but Betty, the kind Irish girl, was ever ready to do for me, and finally I began to take up life's burden once more. Father now wrote that he was anxious to see me and as soon as able to endure the fatigue of the journey I went home. For many months I was almost helpless. Finally word came that Aunt Mary Douglas was failing and had express- ed a strong desire for me to come down there. Accordingly my next journey was in that direction. Nine months had made a won- derful change in her. The first sight of her altered countenance nearly ovecome me, and I was obliged to slip away out of her sight to control my feelings. She, on her part, was troubled about me, saying that I must now take a good rest and get strong again. She suffered at times most intensely. I inquired of the physician the cause. He said the disease was now tending toward dropsy, but he did not wish her to know it. I remained a few days only, as I had not come prepared to stay. Aunt was always jkind, but now more so than ever. She sent my father two cans of oysters, with a large and delicious cake, also a handsome iblack silk handkerchief for a cravat. And as we parted, jsaid, "I want you to come back very soon with cousin Emily." I promised her I would. And after remaining at home two weeks jl went back accompanied by cousin Emily, as she had requested. But Oh, how great the change in those two short week-' Her disease had developed rapidly, and as the physician justly feared jhad assumed the form of dropsy. She was now entirely unable to help herself and the faithful colored woman, Hannah, who had lived with her for so many years, fed her with a spoon. She was constantly troubled for fear she was wearying other-. One morning when I went in to see her she said, "Would you believe it, I have been fighting all night." "Why," said I. "it is late for you to begin such work. AYho did you find to fight with ?" 94 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW ATE R "Well," said she, "I had an awful fight with Apollyon. He arrayed all my past misdeeds, my sins of omission and commis- sion, before me. My excuses were proved utterly worthless and worse than vain. Finally I was reduced to one simple plea. It was only this : 'Jesus hath died for me.' And this morning my fears have all vanished. I am no longer troubled, for I feel that I am 'more than conqueror through Him who has loved me and given himself for me.' " The fever attending her disease was so great that they could only allay it by placing pieces of ice around her head and giving : her large bits to quench her thirst. Sometimes in alluding to hew departure she would say, "It almost breaks my heart to say farewell, but you will think of me often as watching over and loving you all, won't you?" She was anxious to partake of the Holy Communion, and insisted that old Aunt Hannah should receive it with her. . She was a Baptist. Once looking at cousin Emily she said, "You are a Presbyterian, Ellen is a Methodist, , Hannah a Baptist, while Belinda and myself are Episcopalians. But when we all meet in the church triumphant above Jesus wil| not ask our earthly names. If we only love Him and each other, and wear the mantle of his righteousness, all will be well." There was a poor old lady about seventy years of age who came in one morning leaning on her cane. Turning to me she said : "What will become of me when Mrs. Douglas is gone? She has done so much for me." Aunt said, "Oh, aunty, you have often told me you would go before me, but you see I am going first." "Well," she said, you are only going to your good reward and if I was as sure of mine I should not mourn." One of her favorite hymns was this : "Hush, my dull soul, arise, cast off thy care, press to thy native skies. Jesus is there." Once she said to her son, "Sing that hymn about the oracle," for some- time no one could think to which hymn she referred. Finally her son Albert remembered it and we all joined him in singing. "Lord, forever at thy side, let my place and portion be; strip me of the robe of pride, clothe me with humility ; meekly may my soul receive all thy spirit hath revealed ; Thou hast spoken, I believe, though the Oracle be sealed." She now called for several other hymns. The last for which she asked was this, "Vital spark of heavenly flame." When we came to the verse FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW ATI SR 95 ■"Sister, spirit, come away," she tried to accompany us. A dear old friend of about her own age was very ill at the [same time, and we often sent to inquire of her condition. Albert's [little son then came in to see her. Taking his tiny hand in her's she said, pleasantly, "Grandma is going to see your little brother | Richard. Are you not glad?" This was an older brother who [had died some years before. We could not restrain our tears [to hear her speak so cheerfully of leaving her friends. I hit amid all this cheerfulness she suffered intensely at times with |occasional spasms of pain. She continued to talk at intervals jh.intil her son begged her not to tire herself. Finally she fell into la slumber. Early in the morning the friend who sat with her heard her praying earnestly for her children. After that she .seemed to be comparatively easy, and leaving the door open they went into the next room to eat their breakfast. Soon she called, land her son sprang to her bedside to raise her up. As he did this Ishe said: "Oh, my dear" and without a struggle she was gone. Shortly after came the word that the friend who lay so ill was :also released from earthly pain. They had entered the eternal mansions together. Both were carried into the church at one [time. It was certainly the most solemn service I ever witnessed. [They carried their remains to the cemetery upon the hill south of the town, overlooking the beautiful valley of Paint creek, and there in the hope of a final resurrection they sweetly rest. As her son looked upon her for the last time he repeated the words of the hymn she loved so well, "Soul for the marriage feast, Robe iand prepare." "Ah, he said, "her soul is indeed robed in a Saviour's righteousness. But the prop upon which I have leaned from my childhood has been taken from under me. All I can now do is to look above for strength." A day or two after, cousin Anna said : "Cousin, do you know what your aunt left you as a parting gift?" I said I certainly had no idea. "Well," she said, "one night as I was sitting up with her she spoke and said: 'Anna, I have something to say to you, a wish to express, and I know you will see that it is I carried out. I want to leave Belinda a certain amount that she may buy a little home for herself and her father.'' This was only one of several bequests. And they were all faithfully s bestowed. 96 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW ATER My health was now so miserable that our house was rented to an excellent family, they taking us as boarders. My only| remaining sister was shortly to be married to a farmer living in the country near us and father and myself were all there, were left. My brother George had gone to Utah with a lawyer of our town, and Clinton was still in the West. The family who; rented the house were New Englanders and tried in every way to make my father happy. One day he expressed a wish to have, some alderberry wine. "All right, grandpa, said Mr. Pedrick, : "you shall have some." Accordingly he went into the country and gathered a large basket of the alderberries, and they made a quantity of this delicious wine. Mrs. Pedrick also made some of the finest preserves I ever ate from the same berries, putting in plenty of lemons to flavor them, and using the finest pulverized sugar. They were certainly most palatable and delicious. They lived with us for some time, but finally found it would be for their interest to remove to another point.; Cousin Albert then came up and he, with my cousin Juliet's son purchased for me a neat little cottage in another part of the town. The arrangements were shortly after completed and I had my old father comfortably settled. "Father," I said, "how is it that you have so soon made yourself contented in your new home?" "Well," he said, "there is gas to light the street and I can go to the bookstore to read the papers even at night if I choose. Then there is the market nearby to get anything we want to eat." "Yes, yes, I see through it all I said, you find that mind and body both stand a chance of being well supplied." I was glad to see him enjoying such a green old age. Just about this time came the sad news of the death of my brother George. He had long been a sufferer with a chronic disease contracted during that fatal war, and now he had died for away from kindred in a strange land. Poor brother ! if he had sinned, he also suffered. May he rest in peace ! Soon after this came the war of the Southern rebellion, which greatly excited my father. They began calling for troops all over our land. As my health was still feeble, I found myself unable I to see to the house and wait on father properly. After looking \ about for some time I found a quiet family who were willing | to come in and take charge of him. I then left home on a visit FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER 97 to Columbus, in order to have rest and change of scene. The next morning after I reached there came news of the taking of Fort Sumter. Then came the call for troops. The drum beat day and night. All was excitement and commotion. From ever) city, town, village and hamlet they came. The railroads were chartered in every direction to bear the soldiers to their destina- tion. After returning from Columbus, I went out to stay with ni}- sister at the farm, going in very often to visit my father. For a time his health seemed to fail, but after procuring him something in the way of a tonic he seemed to revive and be him- self again. In the meantime, my sister's husband in Cincinnati had been appointed by the government as Inspector of Army Clothing. After working steadily for more than a year his health began to fail. Often he never thought of going to rest until the morn- ing dawned. Days and nights were spent in inspecting army goods, and shipping them to different points as they were re- quired. Finally they gave him a few days in which to rest and recruit. My sister wrote me asking if I could come down and stay with the children while she accompanied him on a trip East. Father gave consent and I went down, going directly through Camp Dennison, a few miles from the city. Thousands of soldiers were there in camp. I could only compare it to a vast bee-hive. The evening I arrived Colonel Jos. Sill came to call on my sister. He was then at Marietta in command of the soldiers there. He had been finely educated at \Yest Point and left there with high honors. Afterwards he opened a military school and proved himself an able instructor. When the war broke out he came forward at the call of his country. That evening I was much interested in his conversation. He said, although educated for war, he had a perfect horror of it. Many of his most intimate friends who had been with him at West Point, were Southerners, and he would doubtless be arrayed against them on the battlefield. But he honored and loved them, and felt almost as though forced to fight with brothers. Shortly after my return home I heard of his promotion for gallant serv- ice, and following that came shortly after the sad news of his death in battle. His brother-in-law, the son of my Aunt Mary Douglas, went and brought home his remains to his grief-stricken 98 FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATW ATE R family. The country, too, mourned the death of this brave and gifted soldier, and a noble monument has since been erected in the cemetery on the hill, where my aunt lies buried, to commemorate his gallant deeds. Many others among our acquaintances and friends shared a like sad fate. One of these was the only son of a widowed friend to whom I have ever been most tenderly attached. Captain Samuel McCulloch was the son of a merchant in our place. He was a noble and devoted son, and an affection- ate brother, beloved, indeed, by all who knew him. In the hour of his country's need he would not stand aloof and accordingly enlisted and was made captain. After being in the army some months he came home on furlough. When about returning to his post he called on his friends to say farewell and then said "I never expect to come back alive." His prophecy was indeed true, for at the head of his men he was struck down by a minie ball and lived but a short time. When the news of his death came they feared to tell his mother who so idolized him, but her daughter said: "Mother is prepared to hear it. For many days she has said that she felt sure he was gone." It was some months after before his remains were brought home and buried beside his father in our beautiful cemetery. One day while I was in the country, my farmer brother-in- law came in saying to me : "You had better go home and see grandpa. The telegraph dispatches say we have lost seven gen- erals. A dreadful battle has been raging at Gettysburg." I went in, and found father on the little porch of the cottage. "Just think of it, he called to me, seven generals are killed, whom now have we left?" "The Lord of Hosts," I said. He smiled at my strong faith. The next day, however, came better news, the Union forces had gained the day. Then my father rejoiced indeed. My sister-in-law's nephew, Captain John Groce, was shortly after brought home wounded from Vicksburg. His good mother, the capital nurse who, as I always thought, helped to save my life in that terrible illness years before, watched over and cared for him until he recovered. Then he insisted on re- turning to his post. Shortly after came the storming of Fort McAllister and then he was killed. The same comrade who brought him home wounded before, now brought his embalmed body to his sorrowing parents. Forest Cemetery is his resting FAMILY MEMOIRS— ATWATER 99 place, with a beautiful monument to mark the sacred Spot. And there his friends often resort to weep over his grave, an