Sufferings During the War

Chapter I

It was on a beautiful Sunday morning in the month of —, in the year of —, between the hours of 10 and 11 o'clock. The bells were ringing; the people were going to and fro, and the officers were riding the streets with white scarfs on their arms. News had just reached Baltimore that the rebels had encamped five miles from the city. The churches assembled, but were soon dismissed. All was commotion. Everybody who could think of such a thing was on the eve of flying.

"And what are you going to do?" said a young lady to me.

"O," said I; "I shall go with Mr. and Mrs. —."

"But they may not want you to go with them," said the young lady.

"Then I will go with so and so," I replied.

"And perhaps they might not want you to go with them," replied she sarcastically.

I answered indignantly: "O, God will take care of me, if He sends an angel to do it!"

And God did take care of me; for an order was passed that none of the poor people need pay their rent; so the money I had saved to pay my rent I took and paid my way to Washington.

Having lost my position in Williamsburg, Long Island, and hearing the colored people were more religious and God-fearing in the South, I wended my way to Baltimore in 1852. But I found all was not gold that glistened; and when I saw the want of means for the advancement of the common English branches, with no literary resources for the improvement of the mind scarcely, I threw myself at the foot of the Cross, resolving to make the best of a bad bargain; and there I lay; and then arose, in the strength of the Lord and in the power of His might, wrote my programme, printed and issued my circulars, stating I would open school and would teach reading, writing, spelling, mental and practical arithmetic, and whatever other studies called for. Not knowing the prices, I found myself teaching every branch for 50 cents per month, until informed by another teacher that no writing was taught for less than $1 per month. Bought wit is the dearest wit. I have never been very shrewd in money matters; and being classed as a lady among my race all my life, and never exposed to any hardship, I did not know how to manage. I had been teaching in New York and Williamsburg, and had the means of always paying my way. But when I came to teach a pay school I found the difference. But God promised that my bread and water should be sure; and having food and raiment I was content. I would make enough just to supply my wants for the time being, but not a dollar over. I did not make any charge for wood and coal. And always had that refined sentiment of delicacy about me that I could not bear to charge for the worth of my labor. If any loss was to be sustained the loss was always on my side, and not on the side of the parent or the scholar. But toward the commencement of the war the times began to be hard, and I began to be poor, and had to resort to exhibitions and festivals to pay my rent; and, getting sick, became discouraged. I went to a colored gentleman (a man of influence) and to a lady friend and stated my condition, telling the amount of rent I owed; and they expressed their sympathy for me in strong terms, and said if I would be willing to have it put on the programme that I was poor, they would get up an entertainment for my benefit. I consented. They got up the festival with the help of others; made $300; gave me $30 to pay my rent; paid expenses, then divided the remainder among themselves, and then laughed ready to kill themselves to think what a fool they had made of me. I never noticed it, but quietly went on and did the best I could. They flourished like the green bay tree for several years, enjoying the good things of this life. But lo! they passed away and their places were no more to be found. They left no sweet-smelling savor around them, no fragrance, no poor to embalm and bless their memory for their

Little acts of kindness
And little deeds of love.

The children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light, sayeth the Scripture. I never could get along like some people, and was always struggling to keep my head above water; but I could never get money enough to carry me home, and would not go unless I could go looking as well in appearance as I did when I came away. Many were the bitter tears I shed to think I had left all my friends at the North and had come here among strangers. Oh! many were the tears I shed! But it was no use to cry for spilt milk; so I went on serving the Lord, turning neither to the right hand nor to the left; always attending church and Sunday school, trying to be useful in some way. It must be that I was kept by the mighty power of God through faith unto salvation, or I never could have surmounted my difficulties. I had brought letters of introduction to the minister of Saint James' Church, and had attended the services of the church regularly, but becoming dissatisfied, left and worshipped at Mount Calvary, and was never treated better in my life during my short stay among them, and was referred from that church to Trinity at Washington; and one of the motives that induced me to come to this city was to seek a habitation for my God to dwell in, not dreaming that I should ever own a house adapted to that purpose.

Chapter II

During the rebellion, just before the candidacy of General McClellan to the Presidency of the United States, the different denominations of Christians issued an edict among themselves that they would establish their own schools and supply their own teachers. It was the general topic of conversation among all classes. Mrs. Stewart, going into her grocery store, heard the proprietor say to a gentleman, referring to her, "She is an Episcopalian, and will lose her situation." Upon inquiry she found that the denomination of Christians to which she belonged were unpopular with the Government, and were going to have nothing to do with the colored school. Without further inquiry Mrs. Stewart replied: "Well, before I will give up my religious sentiments for dollars and cents I will beg my bread from door to door." And she did almost beg her bread, as the sequel will show.

At the September term the teachers of several denominations assembled in their respective churches and received their appointments, while our heroine was left out in the cold. There were four other distinguished Episcopalians, one gentleman and three ladies. But they hid their light under a bushel and kept on the side of dollars and cents. The weather began to grow cool, and our heroine rented a room and paid two months' rent in advance; and then went to work and set herself about trying to get scholars, but met with poor success, not getting enough to pay expenses. The weather growing colder, the funds low, encountering cross looks, and sometimes unkind words, the distress of our heroine became extreme, so she called upon Judge Day, and he afforded her present relief for the time being.

Under all circumstances our heroine maintained a genteel appearance, and always attended the services of the church regularly every Sunday; but was a stranger in the city. Becoming acquainted with a colored lady belonging to the Church of the Ascension, our heroine related her condition to her. The lady recommended her to go and see her minister, the Rev. Dr. Hall.

"Oh! what can he do?" said the distressed one.

"Nothing beats a trial," was the reply.

So, in despair, after much persuasion, the two went together to see Dr. Hall; were kindly received; the tale of woe was told; Dr. Hall said he had no schools. The decision was the school was to be continued, if the supplicant could get scholars enough to supply her with food, which was almost doubtful. A Sunday school was to be established and a room rented at the expense of the church. The room was rented; a prayer meeting was formed; a Sunday school was established; a night school was opened, and a day school continued. Finally Christmas drew near; a five dollar bill was presented; a tree was purchased and dressed; benches were sent from the Epiphany. Forty persons were present at the celebration of the Saviour's birth. Dr. Hall was there; your heroine was there, and only one colored gentleman there to represent the colored Episcopalians in this city. This Christmas eve came on Saturday night. Notices were read in the different churches and put up on the east side of the house so they could be seen. Yet your heroine was a sufferer, with scarce the necessaries of life. The say was: "She belongs to white folks' church, let them take care of her." The curtain falls thus, and ends the scene.

But to return to my trip to Washington. I had prayed to the Lord that there might be standing by the cars some lad to conduct me where I wanted to go, for I was a perfect stranger. And upon my arrival, there stood a young man looking as if he wished he had something to do; so when I alighted from the cars I went up to him and asked him if he was acquainted in the city. He answered yes. I told him if he would conduct me to where I wanted to go I would pay him for it; so we went on and passed the White House. I was told on my way that Washington had become a perfect Paradise for the colored people since President Lincoln had taken his seat. I went to the city soon after the President had taken his seat. It was very dreary and dull, but I went on, trusting in the Lord, and found the minister's family I was looking for, and was welcomed, and made myself useful in the family until next spring. There was a lady, Mrs. Keckley, I knew, formerly from Baltimore, who proved to be an ardent friend to me in my great emergency which took place afterward. I also had a letter of introduction to another lady, Miss M. F. Kiger, and got along very nicely, having no complaints to make, and was in the Nineteenth Street Baptist Church when the emancipation proclamation was read. Spring came; the sun began to shine and the birds began to sing. I began to think about opening a school in the lower part of the city. And as I had promised to fight under Christ's banner against the world, the flesh, and the devil, and to be his faithful soldier and follower unto my life's end, I began to consider which church I should join. The minister of Trinity Church, Rev. Dr. Syle, was so much in sympathy with the South that an objection was raised by some of my Episcopalian friends from Baltimore. The colored people were not altogether pleased with the rector of Saint John's Church, Rev. Dr. Payne, before Dr. Lewis' time; and although Dr. Hall was in sympathy with the South, he was considered the best man of the three; in sympathy with the South because he had resided there; it was thought natural that he should be. So I called upon Dr. Hall and placed myself under his parochial care. I saw by the papers Dr. Hall was very much spoken against. I said: "Doctor, the papers speak very hard of you." "Oh!" said he, "I do not read the papers." He lost his church; it was used for Government purposes. Having just put myself under his Christian care, I followed his flock to Willard's Hall, and there worshipped until he was again restored to his church. In the mean time I rented rooms, opened a school, and got along splendidly, until solicited by Judge Day and others to throw in my influence with theirs for the common good, and I should be paid by the month. I did so, and did it to my sorrow, as the sequel will show.

Chapter III

But to return to the Christmas tree. The celebration of the Saviour's birth was celebrated in my school-room on Saturday night, which was rented of a man and his wife living in the same house; and the man said I could conduct my Christmas as I liked, and he was going to conduct his Christmas as he liked. On the Monday evening after, he said he was going to have music and dancing. I was horrified at the thought, and made arrangements to leave the house for the night, and locked up my room and went elsewhere. The next morning I met an Irish lady. Said she to me:

"Why don't you rent this nice little dwelling-house. It will cost you but little more than you pay now, and you ought not to live with such folks?"

"Why?" said I; "I did not know that you would rent the house to me."

"Yes I will," said she.

"I shall want prayer meeting, Sunday school, day school, and night school," said I.

"Oh," said she, "you can do just as you like, and have no one to trouble you."

So I moved forthwith. The house contained two fine-sized rooms, one up stairs and one down, and I always kept the house clean and in order. Every morning at nine o'clock it was ready for school, except Saturday; that day was devoted in arranging for the Sabbath. Every Sunday morning the house looked inviting for the scholars — the floor, the benches, the steps, and windows were always as clean as they could be. The scholars and teachers would come and work; would commence and end in time to get to church in season. I recollect the prayer meetings commenced under very adverse circumstances. Before I moved into the other house nothing was inviting. I was poor in the extreme; my stove was very small — not large enough to warm the room. I do not know how I did get along and where I got food to eat and fire to keep me and the children warm, what few I had; yet I was compelled to work after school hours, trying to get scholars to come either day or night, and people to come to prayer meeting at night; and such was my extreme poverty that objection was raised to my having them at my room. No contributions were made to buy wood and coal. But Dr. Hall did his part; he paid the rent, supplied the books. I had only five scholars in the day and as many or more at night. And that whole work was supported from these scholars I had night and day. Punctuality was always the life of business with me. One bitter cold night I prepared for prayer meeting, and made everything appear as cheerful as I could, but it began to grow so late I began to think nobody was coming. I had been after the only colored gentleman who took any interest in the matter, but he could not or would not come, although I told him Dr. Hall would be present; so I returned to my lone room disappointed and sad. The bench was close to the stove, and I believe my floor was covered with an old carpet I had bought when I first went to Baltimore; however, the fire looked dull, so I thought I would go and see the lady of the Ascension. But I had not gone far before I met Dr. Hall. The walking was very slippery, the ground was covered with snow and ice, it was a cold sleet. I thought Dr. Hall surely was a good man, or he would not be willing to come to so poor a person's house as were the people of whom I rented. I told him no one had come to the prayer meeting. He returned home, and called to tell the lady of the Ascension of my sorrow and disappointment.

Chapter IV

But to my new house. I cannot tell when the appointment was made to change the prayer meetings to the different houses of the members. But I do know that when I had my prayer meeting the room would be nearly full, for I would go all around among the people and beg them to come; and when the others had their prayer meetings they would not have any strangers, only their lone selves, and they did not appear to be so much better off than I was, either. There was another dear, Christian brother who fell in with us and invited us to his house to prayer meeting. He belonged to our faith and order, anyhow. And when we met, the lady of the house and the rest of the family retired and left the gentleman of the house, her husbAnd, Dr. Hall, and a few others of us in a great big parlor, nicely fitted up, with a good fire, to carry on the prayer meeting by ourselves. I felt embarrassed for Dr. Hall at that time. He said he had a Colored Church South, with four hundred communicants, and he wanted to get up one here for the colored people. And no matter whom he was in sympathy with he was the principal man in laying the foundation of Saint Mary's Church. In the first place it was chiefly composed of females. But our representative brother was always with us, and by degrees others fell in. The prayer meeting and the Sunday school were under the Church of the Epiphany. Dr. Hall paid $10 toward the rent of the house, supplied the school with books and benches, I was to pay $2. Dr. Hall paid $10 for the one room. After I moved, the sisters contributed small sums toward getting wood and coal for Sunday school, but not much. My house was in the parish of the Trinity Church. Dr. Hall had to ask permission of the then rector of Trinity Church. I was the bearer of the note. So they both co-operated together. The prayer meeting was at my house once a week; and so one minister would come one evening one week and the other minister one evening the next week. Thus the prayer meetings at my house were conducted by the rector of the Epiphany and the rector of Trinity. All went on well for a while, and it thus went so far that a proposition was to be made to the vestry of Trinity to let the people have that small church on the corner of N and Sixth streets. And the rector of Trinity said I could teach school there; but an objection was made, for fear the boys would throw stones. And Dr. Hall said if the colored people would not have a church in that part of the city, he would have one at the west end, and he would dare any boys to throw stones at any work he had anything to do with. It was afterward sold to the Lutherans. It was an elegant little church; it belonged to Trinity. A lady said to me: "When we were getting up our church, we met in the same room for one year, and then we moved in a body; but when you go from house to house, half of the persons do not know where the different places of meeting is."

Lent was about to commence. And the rector of Trinity was telling us how we must keep lent and use a great deal of self denial about our food, &c. We had thirty-two present when the notice was given for the next meeting. I told the audience what the lady had said, and asked them if they did not think it would be best to meet in one place until the body became consolidated. It was now in its embryo state. The lady of the Ascension and one of the ladies of the Epiphany, and I do not know how many more, were highly incensed, and went right straight to Dr. Hall and told him I wanted all the praise and credit of getting up the work; and cast my name out as evil all over the city as far as their circle extended; and broke up the prayer meetings. Dr. Hall said he would never come to my house again, and withdrew his rent money. He never came to my house again. No tongue can portray my agony of mind. I did not know what I should do, or how I should get along. I do not recollect whether my school increased in numbers or not. Still I kept on, turning neither to the right hand nor to the left. Ash Wednesday came. I went to church just as if nothing had happened. Oh! what a day that was. If I had had the wings of a dove I would indeed have flown to the utmost part of the earth. But I prayed God to show Dr. Hall in a vision, that I was a clean woman before the Lord: and I believe he did, as the end will show. Be that as it may, I made up my mind twice. Rather than to ask for any further aid I would starve to death. But God prevented it both times. The say would be: "Don't say you are an Episcopalian." And at last I went to see the Rev. Dr. Garnet of the Presbyterian Church. He blamed me for belonging to a set of unfeeling Christians. But he gave me one dollar and sent me to Dr. Channing, a Unitarian minister. I told Dr. Channing the circumstances in great distress of mind, walking the floor backward and forward. So he told me to come to him when the month was up and he would give me money to pay my rent or to go to my friends in New York. I went home. There were persons that were giving out to the poor. I did not go, for fear it would lessen the dignity of the Episcopal Church for it to be known that one of her members had to beg. It was a bitter cold night. I had to go and get some coal. I met a man and begged him to carry it for me to my house, for the cold almost overpowered me.

There were only two male members of the church that I knew anything about. They were like Peter; they stood afar off to see the end. They seldom attended the church; and there were only a handful of us poor lone colored women followers of the cross. More like the outcasts of the house of Israel than anything else. The proscription of the church at that time was awful. Sometimes she administered her communion to the blacks when they were at the table of the Lord, and sometimes she passed them by when they were at the table. My soul became filled with a holy indignation. I complained. And the result was the organization of Saint Mary's Church. Still I clung to the church. And had I left, no one would have cared. But by grace I overcame; and to-day am one of those that John saw in a vision on the Isle of Patmos having harps in their hands. I have suffered martyrdom for the church in one sense; and rejoice that I now feel that I have a home not only in the Protestant Episcopal Church, but in the Holy Church Catholic throughout the world.

Chapter V

After I went to see the Rev. Dr. Garnet I think I began to get along better. But meeting the young lady (Miss M. F. Kiger) I brought the letter of introduction to, and looking poor in my apparel, I burst into tears and wept in the bitterness of my soul, and told her I did not think I should ever get along in Washington. She looked as if she pitied me from the bottom of her heart. I do not know what she said. But in three weeks' time I began to get along. All this suffering was in lent. Two Presbyterian ladies, Mrs. Slade and Keckley, came to my help; and they did not say "Be ye warmed and be ye fed" without affording the means; and one of them was the lady I was acquainted with in Baltimore. The other was a resident here. A lady from the John Wesley, Mrs. Tidball, was a staunch friend, and sent her child to school to me and paid in advance. The spring opened; my school increased. I went to see Dr. Channing at the time appointed. I told him I was beginning to get along so well I did not wish to leave Washington just then. He gave me $15. And a colored gentleman told me I must learn to manage, and said he wanted to rent my room up stairs. He paid me $6. I paid my rent; bought me a new shawl; went to the Church of the Epiphany every Sunday; kept my Sunday school, my day school, and my night school.

Dr. Hall sent the lady after me that had helped to make the fuss, but I think she had made an apology previously. And as I had committed my cause to Him who judgeth righteously, I said nothing about the past. She said Dr. Hall wished me to notify as many colored people as I could to come to the Church of the Epiphany on a certain evening named. He wanted to organize Saint Mary's Church. So I and thirteen night scholars went, and Dr. Hall said he would have the church organized right away. Two colored gentlemen present volunteered their services to help me teach the Sunday school, in order to forward the work. And when the church was consecrated we carried with us forty scholars and $2.50 the children had saved. Dr. Hall and Dr. Lewis were both waiting for us. And the services began after we entered the house.

Thus endeth my sorrows for the present.