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My little chargeIndianapolis
[Indiana] Dearest [Augusta], Your letter and program reached me this noon through the fidelity of Uncle Sam and as he is waiting and will transfer one to you again starting on the morrow, I hasten to prepare for him. As he is always so faithful to me, I certainly must not disappoint him. I could not but feel impressed with one fact whilst perusing your letter and glancing over the names upon the scheme -- that very great changes are yearly going on in and about Owego [New York]. Many of my acquaintance have already and are fast being borne to their "narrow house." Others are fast treading in their footsteps. Many that are left behind seem inclined to be migrating to the West. And as a new generation is coming into the sphere of active life, I was thinking that I should know but few. I notice that many of the names -- I.E., the surnames, are familiar, but the first not so. I concluded, however, that they are representatives of those fast passing away. The death of Rev. [George] Wilcox came upon me quite unexpected. I had not heard that he was on the decline. I can almost imagine precisely the state of his mind whilst passing along the dark waters. I am sure that clinging upon the promises of Jehovah, his exulting spirit could rejoice in the brightest hopes beyond the dark valley. I am sure that that good Being who had been his staff and solace all along would not forsake him then. Ah! among that host which no man can number, how many there will be of our friends and acquaintances. I was sorry to hear of the affliction and unpleasantness in the family of Mrs. Norton. I always thought very much of her, but he was always offish and unsociable whenever I called at the house, and I think the blame must have been on his part. As for their bright dark eyed little delicate girl, I shall long remember her fidelity to the Sabbath school and the sweet smile she used to wear. But she has gone. Perhaps 'tis for the best. I had read a notice of Mr. Headly's death on the Island of St. Thomas. You ask which Conference I meant. It was the North East Indiana Conference [of the Methodist Episcopal Church] which I may probably join, in which is the bounds of my little charge. I have hardly had experience enough to tell you just how I like it as I have not been able to separate myself entirely from the map trade. By the time I write again, I can tell you much better. Tonight, in company with the presiding elder [John Hull] and Brother [Samuel] Cooper, we hold meeting in a little family schoolhouse out in the [northern] outskirts [of Indianapolis] and are looking and hoping for a profitable meeting. You ask if it will be much of a disappointment or disarrangement of my plans if you are not ready to come west when I come out this summer? Oh no. I have no plans in particular, only so far as your convenience and arrangements are concerned. I choose entirely to abide your choice as to time. I had thought that probably the best time for me to visit Owego would be in the month of September, but can come just as well at almost any other time. As you suggested, perhaps I had not better come more than once without we should conclude to postpone until another year before we are married. Then I would hardly consent to stay away so long. A thought has suggested itself to my mind that perhaps the first year of my ministerial service might throw me out in some country place where I should be obliged to travel a circuit and be absent much of the time, which would make it somewhat unpleasant for yourself. Or [I might] be placed in some country village where there would not be just such society as you would like. Yet, after all, to me it would certainly be pleasant under such circumstances to enjoy your society, but I most certainly would forgo the choicest privileges rather than enter into any arrangement that would for one moment tend to mar your enjoyment or give you an unfavorable impression of the pathway the Good Being seems to have marked out in which I am to labor for others good. I think I can but like [the ministry] on one account if no other. There has never been any occupation upon which I have placed my mind in which I seemed called upon to act, and which I can contemplate acting, with more pleasant emotions. Not that there is anything about it that will tend to secure worldly honor, worldly riches, or anything else after which the great masses are grasping. Neither that it is anything that I seem particularly constituted to engage in for I never attempt to say anything in public without such feelings as you supposed you would have when called upon to read your essay. But I find that repeated attempts speaking in public enables me to overcome this timidity in a measure. I am sorry that I did not embrace former opportunities to speak in public. It would have been so much better for me. For the future, I am resolved to let no future opportunity pass wherein duty seems to call upon me to act. I wish you could have been in this city last Sabbath afternoon to have attended the 31st anniversary of Sabbath schools of this city. In telling you about it, it will give you some idea of the unanimity of feeling upon the subject of moral advancement in every department of action throughout the city. The gathering was at Masonic Hall, the largest public room to be found here and consisted of the meeting of twenty one Sabbath schools in the city with their Superintendents, Librarians, Teachers, and Scholars, accompanied with their several pastors. And notwithstanding the weather was quite unfavorable as a heavy shower came up just about the time to form the procession and march to the church. Yet the room was just about as full as it would hold. The large rostrum in the forepart of the building was occupied by the ministers, superintendents, with a few of the dignitaries of the place. And it truly seemed pleasant to see denominations of several names, all meeting on one common platform, giving each other a friendly shake of the hand, and all combined to celebrate one of the greatest moral enterprises of the day. This anniversary takes place every year in commemoration of the time that the first Sabbath school was organized in the city, and all the children look forward to it with emotions of great pleasure. I am sure you would have thought they enjoyed it could you have seen their sweet smiles and happy faces. A very appropriate address was delivered by a Mr. Wallace [1] -- son of Ex-Governor [David] Wallace. And then the reminiscences occurring in the history of the city and especially in the lives of several distinguished citizens was given by an old resident which added very much to the interest. [2] Reports were given by the president of the organization of the number of scholars in the city, the number attending the schools and the number out. The number in attendance was reported as 2248, the number out 320, and when you take into consideration the number of Catholics, I think it is almost unprecedented in the history of any city. I don't believe any city in the centre of the land of steady habits can boast of anything like it. They have such an organized committee of visitations that no family is allowed to go unvisited. The more I become acquainted with the citizens and the place, the more I am pleased with the city. As to building, I shall defer that for awhile at least. Upon making inquiries of the price of building material and labor, I find that putting up anything of a decent building must subject a person to considerable expense and trouble. I received a letter from cousin George Griffing of Woodstock [Illinois] making me an offer of six hundred and fifty [dollars] for my lot there, which is an advance of two hundred and fifty above what it cost. But I guess I will abide by your advice and not sell it at any rate at present. It will make a good home for [my brother] Henry should he go west. If he does not, a person ought to be satisfied with fifty percent interest on money advanced. And after all is said, filthy lucre is not of much account after one's debts are paid and wants met. Spring is upon us in good earnest. The peach trees are in blossom and vegetation is exhibiting itself in every direction. Yet we had a very heavy frost night before last and the prospect for peaches is dubious. I suppose [my] Mother and [sister] Mary will visit there sometime this month. How I would like to be at home. Get acquainted with [my] brother John if you can. I am sure you will like him. Your two papers came safe and I was glad to peruse them. The proceedings of the Teachers Association were interesting. As they came safe, I will venture [to enclose] a map with this letter. Please send other papers when convenient. I was so glad to hear of your mothers improved health. Will [your brother] Ralph attend the [Owego] Academy this summer? And what occupation does he have in his eye? My kind regards to any enquiring. May Heaven bless you, my dear Augusta, and smile in every step of your pathway is the prayer of your, -- James
Indianapolis [Indiana] My own Augusta, Your good long letter was most gladly welcomed in my visit to the [Post] Office about an hour ago. I only wanted a glance at the chirography and [I] quickly recognized the letters’ source. And as I glanced over the pages, how very easy [it was] to commune with the thoughts and enter into the spirit and sentiments of the writer. And above all, how very pleasant to enjoy a privilege which I cannot prize too highly. I was almost confident that it would be along today. I was sure that sufficient time had intervened and I knew that you were very faithful in your answers. [Besides your letter, I received] a published sermon from [my Brother-in-Law] Giddings. It seems that spiritual mediums have been quite numerous in that section. [In it, he tells of] one talented, useful minister [that] has been deluded and [that] has embraced the doctrines of the spiritualists. And as he was a man of extensive influence, [he] has lead as many [followers] into this whirl pool of absurdity as possible. He immediately threw all his energies in securing converts to his belief and went lecturing about upon spiritual manifestations. He came to Honesdale [Pennsylvania] where he had been a former pastor and was greatly beloved, commenced his lectures, and the result was that crowds turned out to hear him and some of the leading members of the church embraced the doctrine [which] proved a source of great mischief and opposition to prosperity. This fact led [my Brother-in-Law Giddings,] as pastor over that flock to meet and, if possible, arrest this influence which called from him this discourse. It is upon spiritual manifestations as tested by the scripture. It was preached in his church and published for more extensive circulation at the request of his Presiding Elder and official members of his charge. I think it tolerable good and will send it for your reading at some time.
Whilst reading your letter, I was impressed with the fact that Henry’s chance for selling up there on the hill — either his own place or the old homestead — would be rather poor. I.E., If there are 400 about there that talk of migrating West, most of them, in all probability, will have property to sell. And unless there is an equivalent rush there, I can’t for the life of me see where the buyers are to come from. As land is rated there and here, I would much rather trust money West. I hope, however, that brother [Henry] can, and will sell, as I believe it will be much better for himself and family. Should any of my friends come west and pass this far south, please tell them there is one at No. 79 Washington Street in this city that would be truly glad to see them and would take pleasure in endeavoring to entertain them so long as they might choose to remain. This [city] is so far out of the regular route [to the] West that I suppose but few will be seen. Do you know the address of either Mr. Noble or S. Tappan? If so, please state in your next [letter]. I wish you could have seen my good mother before you wrote. I suppose that ‘ere this, you have had a good visit. Please ask her a great many questions about her health and ascertain, if possible, just how her life’s hours are passing. Ever since my fathers’ death, she has seemed to be much more dejected in spirits than previous to that time. And [she seems] rather disposed to look upon the dark side of things without stopping to think whether there was another side. Her happiest hours seemed to be just when she could collect the most of her family about her and then it would seem like weights pressing down her spirits to have them leave her. And after all, she seemed willing that they should leave if duty urged and it was for their interest to do so. I do wish that whilst it was my happy privilege to share her society and counsels, I had estimated more highly her worth and learned sufficiently to appreciate the inestimable blessings I then shared. But they are nearly all if not quite passed over. I do wish I could visit with her this evening. I was glad to hear from your friends [back] East—especially Hancie [Abbey]—and I was wondering when it would be my good privilege to share her society. I can hardly make it seem true that I shall never live over any portion of the past again. Yet, I suppose such is the case. True, I may go East and may greet old familiar countenances and be made welcome, but will it be the same home occupied by the same tenants, holding the same relations in life, and all receiving me with the same frank warm-heartedness? Methinks not. Changes will be written on every side. Some will have left to join the company no man can number; others left to find a home with the being of their choice far away. [Eventually,] an alienation, quick and insensible, will steal upon you ‘ere you are aware. This was in a great measure the case with me after my stay [in the] East when I returned to my childhood home. So great were the changes that I could not make it at all seem like the same place. And were it not the home of my mother, my childhood, and my dearest of earthly friends, I could mention a thousand places where I would sooner prefer to pass my few short days. Have you seen Gleason’s [Pictorial] for last week, Saturday [April] 22nd? If not, I wish you would see it. You can obtain such a correct view of four of the principal public buildings about this city. The Institution of the Blind is included in my mission. Several of its inmates are members.
In performing the duties that the church seems to have imposed on me, I find it a great cross [to bear]. More especially, to attempt speaking in public. Last Sabbath [April 23, 1854] was my first effort in trying upon my mission to use a text. I was in hopes but few would be out and none that I knew. But instead of that, it became known through some source other than myself [that I was to preach], and the little schoolhouse was filled to overflowing. Even here, at my boarding house, about forty [attended]. A friend told me that over thirty stood about the door and a great many left for want of room [inside]. The evening [I preached] was very warm and it caused the perspiration to flow most profusely. I [had] prepared a sort of skeleton of what I might say and fastened it in my bible which I was obliged to hold in my hand. And it was so difficult to refer to it that it embarrassed me much. I resolved to try without it and found much more freedom in speaking afterward, but perhaps less to the point. The good Lord assisted me. I have visited and prayed in a great many families and left with them religious tracts. And although I may not see the immediate fruits yet, in the great future day I hope to see that my labors have not been in vain. We have a meeting tomorrow evening to make a regular organization, select a building committee, and elect the stewards, trustees, etc. We are in hopes to have a good house of worship ‘ere long. The brethren, although many of them poor, seem unanimous in the idea of a suitable house of worship. We numbered fifty in our Sabbath School last Sabbath and much interest was manifested. Another session of school will furnish us a great many more, as many on the mission ground had commenced sending their [children] to other [Sabbath] schools and the scholars have become so much attached there that they do not like to leave and come to our schoolhouse. But when we have a more suitable place for the [Sabbath] school, I am sure we shall get them. You ask what time in September I shall come East. I cannot say positively when I may come. I want to come after you return from Hartford whenever that may be. And then if we should not conclude to get married, we can talk over all our matters and make all our arrangements. I can say nothing with positiveness as we can read but so imperfectly the dealings of an over ruling Providence. I place all in His hands, hoping and knowing that His kind hand will so overrule matters as to work for the good of us both. I find a good warm-hearted friend and excellent counselor in the person of my beloved pastor, Brother Cooper. Not a day [goes by] but I must see him once or twice. But he does not seem to tire of my many questions [and] always welcomes me most heartily. I like the society here quite well as I become more extensively acquainted and I am confident you could not help but like it [also]. It is decidedly Western in almost every respect—mixed in, however, with many Eastern people. But they are very tenacious of early habits and customs and do not fall in with the spirit of progress as I would wish. There are great mammoth hearts here. -- James
Indianapolis
[Indiana] Beloved Augusta, I have just taken your letter from the [Post] Office. I had been patiently waiting and wondering why one did not come, certainly thinking there must be a fault in Uncle Sam or of his boys. And sure enough, I found it to be precisely so. For in looking over the list of advertized letters [in this morning’s newspaper] I found one for J. S. Griffing from Owego. I could hardly account for it as I seldom allow a day to pass without visiting the Post Office. But by way of explanation, they said that so soon as the time came for advertizing, they always took all in the box [even] if they had not been in five minutes. So this will account for the delay of this letter in reaching you. Three hours later — I had just commenced writing when I was interrupted by Brother Cooper who wished me to go on a walk. We went out to our lots in the suburbs of the city. He purchased one joining mine and a few days ago we procured some locust trees and set them out in front. And he was anxious to know whether they were living. There were twelve in all and we were sorry to find five of them of rather a doubtful character. He thinks of building on his lot for the purpose of renting as there is such a great demand for houserooms. In our walk, we passed fruit trees of different kinds and I was surprised to see the prospect for fruit so very flattering. I was afraid that the very cold nights a few weeks ago would not allow us to entertain the most distant idea of any fruit. But Oh! How very different the prospect unless something yet should happen. I suppose we are just about two weeks ahead of you [in our growing season]. Young apples are now about the size of a half-grown plum. Cherries have attained over half their size. Spring opens most delightfully here. The naked forests and muddy streets, the cold raw winds and vacant gardens, are all obliged to give way to such a delightful, ever welcome visitant. You would hardly think this the same place that it was a month ago. I can hardly look in any direction from my window but what I can see great giant elms which, but a few weeks ago were stretching out their long naked arms and swaying them about as if angry at the fierce winds that visited them, now clothed in a most elegant vesture and bowing most gracefully to welcome the delightfully refreshing breezes among them. The streets have all become hard [in Indianapolis] so that a carriage moves along with scarce any noise. And the birds of every name and hue would sometimes try to make you think them more numerous than they really are. And then the yard plants, tulips, and violets are just at this time making such a rich display, and the few trees we have within the city limits are decorated so finely with foliage that I am sure you would not fail to pronounce it another place. [But you would have had to be here] in the Spring in order to make the contrast. Yesterday was our Quarterly Meeting at Roberts Chapel. The exercises were very interesting. The sacrament was administered at three o’clock after the Sabbath School, which always meets at two. I should think over 600 persons were present and a large share of them communicants. There were six ministers present. After the sacrament, some few minutes were occupied in shaking hands about which is something of a Quaker habit introduced among the Methodists out here in the West. By the way, I do not think [it to be] a very injurious or harmful innovation, as it tends to bring heart nearer heart. It enables members of the same church to greet personally those whom they may not see again the whole week long. It [certainly] enables strangers to become acquainted [with members of the church]. The lovefeast will be held this evening. The Sabbath School in my part of the town continues increasing. We have just as many now as our little schoolroom will possibly accommodate. Tomorrow, we were invited to join the Roberts Chapel School to go on a picnic excursion in a grove about a mile out of the city and the scholars all seemed greatly pleased at the idea. I hope we shall have a fine day. The plan is to have all meet at the church at an early hour and to bring along suitable refreshments which will be sent along with all the smaller scholars in omnibuses. Those better able will march out [to the grove] in a procession. It is something rather new to me and I think will greatly please the scholars. It is proposed that several short, pertinent speeches be made, a dinner prepared, swings erected or fixed, so that in different ways the scholars may entertain themselves for several hours. I noticed in some of the papers that they have been having quite a destructive flood at Hartford [Connecticut] so that a great many of the streets were navigable. The damage was estimated at a great many thousand dollars. I supposed that Hartford was above stooping to such deprivations.
I am glad that at least they have succeeded in getting a good Maine Law governor there [in Connecticut]. I understand that a good share of the Legislature are strongly prohibitory [in sentiment]. I do hope that all will do their duty and liberate the people. A good efficient Maine Law in Connecticut will do more for her than any other one thing possibly can. I wish persons could only have seen as much as I of the effects of rum—especially those inclined to apologize for it. I can never even think of it but what my indignation is aroused against it in every shape. I believe it but a synonym of all that is vile and mischievous, cruel, ghostly, and infernal; thrusting itself deeper into the depths of human suffering than all the other influences combined. I never can forgive Governor [Horatio] Seymour in our State for the course he pursued in reference to this measure. I was so sure that the law would go in effect this fall. But the work of degradation, bewidowing mothers, and multiplying orphans must go bravely on for a while yet. A brighter hour is dawning. Hearts burning to do good must only labor and wait. [3] Have you had any very violent storms there this spring? I think I never knew the electricity so profuse, the lightning so vivid, the rain so torrent-like, and peal answering to peal so rapidly as in some of the showers passing over here this Spring. Scarcely a moments cessation. [4] If you could travel with irregular light at one moment in a blaze far brighter than sunlight the next, enveloped in a darkness that you could almost feel, you then would have had a fine time to view our city. The lightning performed some curious freaks, darting around the old chimneys and splintering the telegraph poles, and in one case told an infidel that Jehovah lived. He had been out fishing during the day and, whilst on his return, more than ever his unsatisfied mind wished [to know if] there was a God. And he said that he offered a prayer like the following, “Oh God, if there is any, in some way will thou bring convincing evidence that thou dost exist?” He went home, ate his supper, seated himself by his fireplace in the corner of a little back room and during this violent shower the lightning left its place in the clouds, passed down his chimney and completely paralyzed him in his chair. His frightened wife alarmed the neighbors and, by rubbing him nearly an hour, life returned and with it—reason. In speaking of it confidentially to his neighbor—who related the incident to me—he said that it was not only strange that it should not only happen on the day that he made the above prayer, but that the lightning should...come to his low house when there were so many other houses in the city and many of them much taller than his. To an infidel, it might appear strange. But to one who believes the Lord Jehovah reigns, not at all so. I am happy to add that the man has since become a teacher in the Sabbath School, a place he never loved before, and also attends meetings. You speak of an invitation to go to Hartford — also to Hatfield to spend a few months and it may be [for the entire] winter. I know you cannot but enjoy such a visit if you thought you could leave home so long. I know you would dislike to leave your mother, especially if [your sister] Sarah went with you. Yet I can hardly think of a more favorable time for you to go and make a good Eastern visit—should you conclude soon to adopt the West as your home. You know we should be much farther away from all those old acquaintances and, should it be our pleasure ever to go and see them, we should be obliged to make a sort of “Flying visit” which would not be near as satisfying as to go and make a good long visit with each one. Besides, time is short and is hurrying on and I should not wonder if already you found an occasional vacancy among your beloved ones. I wish I knew just how you would like this western society. It is so different from what you have always been accustomed to that I am sure you will find it strange at first. If you do not find Eastern refinement and a strict observance of all the rules of etiquette and a stiff, cold formalism, you will find frank, generous, well-meaning hearts, actuated by a soul of no small dimensions and a hospitality that defies all comparison. And in this city there is a strong moral influence exhorted probably much more so than in the country around—and many other things that combine to happily make life’s passing hours most pleasant. Please mention when you think of going and how long you shall probably stay. And believe me forever yours, -- James. Illustration Credits
[1] We learn from Calvin Fletcher's diary that the speaker was 29 year-old attorney William Wallace, the son of ex-Governor David Wallace, and the son-in-law of Ovid Butler -- Calvin's law partner. See The Diary of Calvin Fletcher, Vol. V, page 205. [2] The "old resident" that spoke following William Wallace was Calvin Fletcher, who only grudgingly accepted the assignment to speak on the occasion. In his diary, Calvin Fletcher wrote that when he started for the Masonic Hall where all the Sabbath schools were to meet, a "terrable indication of a storm now arose but I put on hoping it would rain & storm so as to relieve me from the task before me from what I so dreaded desired to escape the delivery of my address. But on my arrival found the house nearly crouded & soon it was to the overflowing." Calvin recorded that William Wallace "took the stand & spoke some half hour when I was called up & got about 1/3 thro' & a sudden indication of rain gave me the excuse to cease speaking. So I have now been relieved some what from the dread effort by the storm but as the light[ning] was nearly over I might have gone thro'. I was among the last that got out so got a part of a sever[e] shower. I regret that so many pretty bonnets & dresses were spoiled." Source -- The Diary of Calvin Fletcher, Vol V., page 204-205. [3] According to J.C. Furnas' book, The Americans, "the Temperance forces of Maine put through in 1841 a law banning the sale of alcohol categorically. After a stiffening revision in 1846, this Maine Law became the glittering ideal for Temperance workers everywhere." [p. 511] "By 1855 thirteen states, including all New England, New York, New Jersey and several over the mountains, had adopted versions of [Maine's Law]...In 1854, Governor Horatio Seymour had vetoed New York's first attempt as unconstitutional. It cost him the next election..." [pp. 512-513] [4] The May 20, 1854 edition of The Locomotive -- an Indianapolis newspaper -- reported that, "On Saturday last [May 13, 1854] we had a storm of wind and rain that did considerable damage, blowing down trees and awnings. The evening train on the Central road ran against a tree that was blown across the track, smashing the Locomotive, but doing no personal damage, as the train was going very slow. There was a number of trees on the track of the Bellfontaine road, but no accident happened in consequence. On the Lafayette road a bridge and embankment was washed away, that caused delay in the train, but they have now resumed. The storm was general, and heavy damages done to property, particularly along the line of the Wabash and Erie Canal." |
