56 READE STREET, N. Y.
PRESIDENT.
Hon. E. S. TOBEY, Boston.
VICE-PRESIDENTS.
Hon. F. D. Parish, Ohio.
Hon. E. D. Holton, Wis.
Hon. William Claflin, Mass.
Rev. Stephen Thurston, D. D., Me.
Rev. Samuel Harris, D. D., Ct.
Wm. C. Chapin, Esq., R. I.
Rev. W. T. Eustis, D. D., Mass.
Hon. A. C. Barstow, R. I.
Rev. Thatcher Thayer, D. D., R. I.
Rev. Ray Palmer, D. D., N. Y.
Rev. J. M. Sturtevant, D. D., Ill.
Rev. W. W. Patton, D. D., D. C.
Hon. Seymour Straight, La.
Horace Hallock, Esq., Mich.
Rev. Cyrus W. Wallace, D. D., N. H.
Rev. Edward Hawes, Ct.
Douglas Putnam, Esq., Ohio.
Hon. Thaddeus Fairbanks, Vt.
Samuel D. Porter, Esq., N. Y.
Rev. M. M. G. Dana, D. D., Minn.
Rev. H. W. Beecher, N. Y.
Gen. O. O. Howard, Oregon.
Rev. G. F. Magoun, D. D., Iowa.
Col. C. G. Hammond, Ill.
Edward Spaulding, M. D., N. H.
David Ripley, Esq., N. J.
Rev. Wm. M. Barbour, D. D., Ct.
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Rev. W. L. Gage, Ct.
A. S. Hatch, Esq., N.
Rev. J. H. Fairchild, D. D., Ohio.
Rev. H. A. Stimson, Minn.
Rev. J. W. Strong, D. D., Minn.
Rev. George Thacher, LL. D., Iowa.
Rev. A. L. Stone, D. D., California.
Rev. G. H. Atkinson, D. D., Oregon.
Rev. J. E. Rankin, D. D., D. C.
Rev. A. L. Chapin, D. D., Wis.
S. D. Smith, Esq., Mass.
Peter Smith, Esq., Mass.
Dea. John C. Whitin, Mass.
Rev. Wm. Patton, D. D., Ct.
Hon. J. B. Grinnell, Iowa.
Rev. Wm. T. Carr, Ct.
Rev. Horace Winslow, Ct.
Sir Peter Coats, Scotland.
Rev. Henry Allon, D. D., London, Eng.
Wm. E. Whiting, Esq., N. Y.
J. M. Pinkerton, Esq., Mass.
Rev. F. A. Noble, D. D., Ct.
Daniel Hand, Esq., Ct.
A. L. Williston, Esq., Mass.
Rev. A. F. Beard, D. D., N. Y.
Frederick Billings, Esq., Vt.
Joseph Carpenter, Esq., R. I.
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CORRESPONDING SECRETARY.
Rev. M. E. STRIEBY, D. D., 56 Reade Street, N. Y.
DISTRICT SECRETARIES.
Rev. C. L. WOODWORTH, Boston.
Rev. G. D. PIKE, New York.
Rev. JAS. POWELL, Chicago.
EDGAR KETCHUM, Esq., Treasurer, N. Y.
H. W. HUBBARD, Esq., Assistant Treasurer, N. Y.
Rev. M. E. STRIEBY, Recording Secretary.
EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE.
Alonzo S. Ball,
A. S. Barnes,
Edward Beecher,
Geo. M. Boynton,
Wm. B. Brown,
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Clinton B. Fisk,
Addison P. Foster,
E. A. Graves,
S. B. Halliday,
Sam’l Holmes,
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S. S. Jocelyn,
Andrew Lester,
Chas. L. Mead,
John H. Washburn,
G. B. Willcox.
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COMMUNICATIONS
relating to the business of the Association may be addressed to
either of the Secretaries as above; letters for the Editor of the
“American Missionary” to Rev. Geo. M. Boynton, at the New York
Office.
DONATIONS AND SUBSCRIPTIONS
should be sent to H. W. Hubbard, Ass’t Treasurer, No. 56 Reade
Street, New York, or when more convenient, to either of the Branch
Offices, 21 Congregational House, Boston. Mass., or 112 West
Washington Street, Chicago, Ill.
A payment of thirty dollars at one time constitutes a Life Member.
Correspondents are specially requested to place at the head of each
letter the name of their Post Office, and the County and State in
which it is located.
[257]
THE
AMERICAN MISSIONARY.
Vol. XXXIII.
SEPTEMBER, 1879.
No. 9.
American Missionary Association.
FORWARD!
Dedicated to the American Missionary Association, by the Author,
REV. ELI CORWIN, D.D., JACKSONVILLE, ILLS.
Strike, valiant warrior, strike!
Be foremost in the fight,
And wield the battle-axe of truth
With all a giant’s might;
He ventures in no doubtful cause
Who champions the right.
Build for the ages, build!
Lay the foundations strong,
Through all the circling centuries
Of wretchedness and wrong;
The tribute of the after times
May to this age belong.
Work, then, with courage, work!
He labors not in vain,
Who, leaning on the Mighty Arm,
Counts every loss a gain;
Since we may reach the glory goal
Through pilgrimage of pain.
Pray, weary watcher, pray!
Upon the promise rest;
Faith seems to see a rising sun
Sink in the darkening west;
And, in the morrow’s prophecy,
Is comforted and blest.
[258]
We take from the columns of the Christian Intelligencer, the
organ of the Reformed (Dutch) Church, the ingenious and suggestive
article by Dr. Chamberlain, entitled “Winding up a Horse.” We are
sure it will be read.
There is good sound sense in the very practical contribution on
Children’s Influence in Missions, or rather on interesting children
in the work of Missions, on the Children’s page. The heart which is
interested intelligently in such work in its youth will never be
likely to grow too busy or too old to follow the progress of the
years, and the hand which has learned early to drop its pennies
into the Lord’s treasury will hardly be found clenched upon its
dollars in riper years.
Next month brings us around to another Annual Meeting. Our
financial year ends with the last day of this month (September).
Our books will be closed then for the year, and our balance
will be struck. This is our reminder to all, either churches or
individuals, who have intended to contribute to our work during the
current year. Let your gifts be sent in speedily and as liberally
as the Lord may have prospered you. Every cent received during
the next thirty days helps this year’s showing. Do not let us go
back of the standard maintained during the last three years! Our
ambition is to report expenses all met and debt all gone.
The report that the yellow fever has returned to Memphis has long
before this reached the ears of our friends. We hope that the evil
will not be so great as it was last year, and yet its immediate
effect upon our work has been more suddenly felt than then. The
people flee more eagerly from a scourge the severity of which they
hold in horror enhanced by the recent memory of its infliction.
The church at Memphis is scattered; pastor and people have left
it; a faithful janitor is caring for its and the school property.
The church at Chattanooga, too, has been largely deserted, and
its attendants have fled to the mountains. Of course this is
but a temporary interruption. The three or four hundred dollars
which was sent to us last year for the relief of the colored
sufferers accomplished an amount of physical relief, and indirectly
of spiritual good, almost beyond belief. We shall be glad to
superintend the disbursement of any like moneys which may be sent
to relieve the poorest of the poor in this their special distress.
“Oh, how great is Thy goodness, which Thou hast laid up for
them that fear Thee; which Thou hast wrought for them that trust
in Thee, before the sons of men!”
As a father lays up for his children against a future need, so the
psalmist felt that the Heavenly Parent had done for those that fear
Him; so, in sight of the sons of men had He wrought such goodness
for them. It is a great thing to realize the daily dispensing
of such divine favor, but a greater to learn that Infinite Love
has gone before to treasure up the riches of goodness. It was
a marvel of blessing that God wrought before the sons of men
in all the world for the American children of bondage in their
emancipation. But more than this: He had laid up beforehand
treasures of Christian anti-slavery sentiment and charity, to be
disbursed among them in the lines of educational and Christianizing
processes, and, with divine forethought. He had prepared a system
for the administration of this relief. Distinguished among other
provisions of this kind[259] were the rise and the preparatory training
in principle and method of the American Missionary Association. We
know not which the more to admire, the wisdom or the goodness of
such fore-ordaining. It is the privilege of its constituency to be
the almoners of such bounty.
It makes no pretension. It has been a growth from nothing. And
yet it is worthy of mention. The Southern Workman, the organ
of Hampton Institute, is a monthly, well filled with matter
historical, scientific and newsy, and well adapted to interest
the Freedmen and their friends, as also the civilized Indians and
their friends. The Hampton Health Tracts, in a series of a half
dozen, treat of the great essentials of health and of physiology.
It was a happy hit to give the late children of bondage these
first lessons in civilization. This list of tractates has also
not a little of instruction for many people who pass among the
enlightened class. The Fisk Expositor is an occasional issue that
gathers up the history and progress of that University, which the
Jubilee Singers have done so much to endow and to make famous. The
Southern Sentinel is a monthly, published at Talladega College,
and designed, as is the Southern Workman, to interest the colored
people in all matters pertaining to education, agriculture and
mechanic arts. On both, the work of type-setting and printing is
all done by the colored students, who have learned the process
while in school, and who make this their means of support, besides
the acquiring of a trade that will secure them a respectable
livelihood. The young women make capital compositors. In both of
these offices not a little of job work is also done. The mechanical
work upon the American Missionary was for a time done by the
office at Hampton. The Straight University at New Orleans has also
its occasional medium of communication with its constituency.
Eight chartered institutions issue their annual catalogues, which
compare favorably with the current literature of the kind. It seems
not a little strange, in these annual reports of schools among
our fellow-citizens, the late slaves, to come across not only the
lists of the Faculties and the long roll of students, but also
the several departments, normal, scientific, classical, medical,
legal and theological. Then of the six General Associations for our
Southern churches, four have issued their annual “Minutes.” Those
of the original one, the Central South, furnish quite a compendium
of our church work. Those of Alabama are rich in records of
discussions upon vital themes and of missionary activities. Those
of Louisiana glow with revival reminiscences. The first of Georgia
makes a dignified document that gives promise of not a little of
church activity. Texas and North Carolina will soon come on to the
dignity of printing the Minutes of their Associations.
During the last few days, how to avoid breaking the tenth
commandment has been a practical question for me.
It has been my privilege to visit the College and Agricultural
School at Amherst, and their sister institutions at Northampton and
South Hadley, if they can be called institutions when the students
are absent.
As I strolled about the Amherst College grounds and buildings, and
noticed its concrete walls and shaven lawns, with their trimmed
edges that said to the[260] grass, “Thus far and no farther;” and
looked upon the Gymnasium, Walker Hall, and College Chapel, of
solid granite and beautiful sandstone, with their numerous gables,
towers and turrets; and walked about the Museum building, crowded
with many rare and costly specimens, representing thousands upon
thousands of dollars and years upon years of skilled and patient
labor; and then strolled about the pleasant village, and saw the
beauty and elegance and comfort of the professors’ residences:
then, as I went into the field, and saw in the centre of a farm
of 500 acres of level, fertile land, the Agricultural College
buildings of brick and stone, erected for service, but not lacking
in adornment; the extensive and beautiful conservatory, the fine
barn and cattle, and various “new and improved” agricultural
implements; then, as, after a ride of seven miles through the
valley of the Connecticut, justly famed for its beauty, where
deacons formerly raised profitable crops of tobacco while they
were trying to solve the questions of ethics involved in this
industry, I saw upon the “hill” in Northampton, Smith College, with
its lovely grounds, its Gothic buildings of somewhat elaborate
architecture, including a house for the president and cottages
for the young ladies, its varnished floors, its fine furniture,
and its art galleries, containing already a goodly collection
from the pencil of the painter and the chisel of the sculptor,
upon all of whose equipments seemed to be written, “Nothing mean
or cheap can enter here;” then, as, after having flanked Mount
Holyoke and got in his rear, I came upon the school of Mary Lyon,
where formerly were educated all the sisters and “cousins” of
the Amherst students, and, beginning at the kitchen, where are
two stoves expressly devoted to the cooking of griddle-cakes, a
broiler for beefsteaks, a marble slab for a “bread board,” and
a stone slab for warming plates, and then passed on through the
capacious dining-room and the carpeted chapel to the fire-proof
library building filled with books, and then to the new Williston
cabinet and art gallery, where our guide, an old pupil of Mary
Lyon, pointed out a picture which she said, apparently with “bated
breath,” cost $1,000.
As I saw all these evidences of growth and prosperity and tokens of
the liberality of good men and women, there kept ringing in my ears
a sentence from the catalogue of our poor Atlanta University: “It
is hoped that the time is not far distant when funds will flow into
the treasury of the Institution as freely as they do into those of
colleges in other parts of the country.”
When one sees how New England is packed with seminaries, colleges,
academies and high schools, he can hardly help believing that the
Lord is willing that the colored people of the State of Georgia
shall have one institution for thoroughly fitting teachers for the
common schools of their race, and at least giving those who can
and wish to obtain a college education the opportunity of doing
this. And may we not have faith to believe that the example of
Mrs. Stone, in giving one-sixth of the money to be distributed by
her among the schools of the country to those in the South for the
education of the colored race, will be followed by others, and that
this provision for the more needy will but increase the devising of
liberal things for these institutions of the North?
T. N. C.
Nineteen years ago I bought in Madras a peculiar kind of horse.
He had to be wound up to make him go. It was not a machine, but a
veritable live horse.
When breaking him to go in the carriage he had been injured. An
accident[261] occurred in starting him the first time and he was thrown
and hurt and frightened. It made him timid; afraid to start. After
he had once started he would never balk, until taken out of the
carriage. He would start and stop and go on as many times as you
pleased, but it was very difficult to get him started at first each
time he was harnessed to the carriage.
He was all right under the saddle, an excellent riding horse,
and would carry me long distances in my district work, so that I
did not wish to dispose of him; but I could not afford to keep
two, whatever I had must go in carriage as well as ride, and I
determined that I would conquer.
How I have worked over that horse! At first it sometimes took me
an hour to get him started from my door. At last, after trying
everything I had ever heard of, I hit upon an expedient that worked.
I took a strong bamboo stick two feet long and over an inch thick.
A stout cord loop was passed through a hole two inches from its
end. This loop we would slip over his left ear down to the roots
and turn the stick round and round and twist it up.
It is said that a horse can retain but one idea at a time in its
small brain. Soon the twisting would begin to hurt. His attention
would be abstracted to the pain in his ear. He would forget all
about a carriage being hitched to him, bend down his head and walk
off as quiet as a lamb. When he had gone a rod the horse boy would
begin to untwist, soon off would come the cord, and the horse would
be all right for the day. The remedy never failed.
After having it on two or three times he objected to the operation,
and would spring about and rear and twitch and back; anything but
start ahead, to keep it from being applied. We would have, two of
us, to begin to pat and rub about his neck and head. He would not
know which had the key. All at once it would be on his ear and
winding up. The moment it began to tighten he would be quiet, stand
and bear it as long as he could, and then off he would go. It never
took thirty seconds to get him off with the key. It would take an
hour without. After a little he ceased objecting to have it put
on. He seemed to say to himself, “I have got to give in and may as
well do it at once,” but he would not start without the key. In a
few months he got so that, as soon as we got into the carriage, he
would bend down his head to have the key put on, and one or two
turns of the key would be enough.
Then the key became unnecessary. He would bend down his head,
tipping his left ear to the horse boy, who would take it in his
hand and twist it, and off he would go.
My native neighbors said, “That horse must be wound up or he cannot
run.” And it did seem to be so.
When he got so that the “winding up” was nothing but a form, I
tried to break him of that, but could not succeed. I would pat him
and talk to him and give him a little salt or sugar or bread, and
then step quietly into the carriage and tell him to go. “No.” Coax
him. “No.” Whip him. “No.” Legs braced, every muscle tense for
resistance. A genuine balk. Stop and keep quiet for an instant and
he would hold down his head, bend over his ear and look around for
the horse boy appealingly, saying very earnestly by his actions,
“Do please wind me up. I can’t go without, but I’ll go gladly if
you will.” The moment his ear was touched and one twist given, off
he would go as happy and contented as ever horse could be.
Many hearty laughs have we and our friends had over the winding up
of that[262] horse. If I were out on a tour for a month or two and he
were not hitched to the carriage, or if he stood in the stable with
no work for a week or two during the monsoon, a real winding up had
to take place the first time he was put in. We kept him six years.
The last week I owned him I had to wind him up. I sold the patent
to the man that bought the horse, and learned from him that he had
to use it as long as the horse lived.
I was thinking about that horse the other night when it was too hot
to sleep, and I suddenly burst into a laugh as I said to myself,
“I have again and again, in the membership of our churches at
home, seen that horse that had to be wound up, in all matters of
benevolence.”
I had often thought of that horse as I went through our churches at
home, and imagined that I recognized him, but the whole thing came
upon me with such peculiar force the other night that I must write
out my thoughts.
There are some Christians (yes, I believe they are Christians)
who have to be wound up by some external pressure before they
will start off in any work of benevolence. Others will engage in
some kinds of benevolence spontaneously, but will not touch other
benevolent efforts unless specially wound up. Free under the
saddle, but balky in carriage.
I knew of one good member of our church who would never give a cent
to our Domestic Missionary Board unless he happened to hear of some
missionary in the West who was actually without the necessaries of
life, and then he would send in liberally. It took that to wind him
up.
Another would never give to the Board for educating young men for
the ministry unless he happened to become acquainted with some
candidate who was being aided. Then his gifts would come in for
helping that man.
Another would never give to the Bible Society unless he chanced to
hear of some particular town out West where but two Bibles could be
found in a population of five hundred, although he knew perfectly
well that there were hundreds of such communities among whom the
American Bible Society was daily endeavoring to introduce the
Divine Word. He must be wound up by a special case.
But it was especially of my visits through the churches in
connection with our foreign missionary work that I was thinking
when I said that I had so often recognized my horse that had to be
wound up, in all the different stages of his training.
Thank God, I found hosts of noble-hearted men and women all
through the Church that needed no winding up; whose conversion and
consecration had extended down to their pockets; who were always
at the forefront in every good work; who required no spasmodic
appeals. They gave from a deep set principle and an intelligent
love for Christ and His cause; some even pinching themselves in the
necessaries of life, as I know, to be able to give. It is on such
that the security and continuance of our missions depend. We know
that we can rely on them. They never fail us.
But there are others that have to be “wound up,” willing or
unwillingly, before they will do anything in the missionary work.
Some are very willing to be wound up.
“Dominie,” said a good elder who had just introduced himself to me
one day, “I have come in on behalf of our church at —— to see if
you would not come out and give us a missionary talk. We ought to
have sent in a collection to the Foreign Board months ago, but we
neglected it, and now we have been[263] talking it over and have made
up our minds to do something handsome if you will come out there
and give us a talk.”
“Well,” said I, “I shall be very glad to come and tell you
something of our work just as soon as I can edge a day in between
other engagements. But if you have made up your minds to do
something handsome for the Board, why not do it at once and relieve
their present pressing need, and I will come as soon as I can and
give you the talk all the same.”
“O, no,” said he. “We can’t do that. We have made up our minds that
we must give liberally, but we can start it easier if you come
there and give us the talk first. You need not fear. We will give a
good sum. That is settled, and it is mostly pledged. But you must
come and talk to us first.”
I smiled and said to myself, “There is my horse in its third stage
of training. That church is bending down its ear and entreating me
to twist it, for it has made up its mind to go, only it requires to
be wound up first.”
“Dominie,” said one of our earnest ministers to me one Wednesday,
“we raised $1,000 for the Board last Sunday morning. It is more
than usual, and we are all happy over it. Now we want you to come
over the first Sunday of next month and give us a missionary
address.”
“Good,” said I, “that church has got one stage further than my
horse ever did in his training, for they start and do the work
first and bend down the ear to be twisted afterwards.” Did it not
give me an earnest joy to go and tell that church what the Lord’s
war in India was, and how much they had helped it?
A Sunday-school superintendent came to me one day with smiling
countenance, saying, “Our Sunday-school has raised $175 during the
past year for missions, and we have determined to give it to the
work in India. The year closed three months ago, and it is all in
the hands of the treasurer, but we want you to come and give us a
speech, and then it will be formally voted and sent at once to the
Board. We have been waiting all this time because they told us at
the rooms that you were engaged up till now. When can you come? The
money is lying idle and we are waiting, and we know the Board needs
the funds. So come as soon as you can.”
“Ah,” said I, “everything is ready, and the family are in the
carriage, but they have to sit there half an hour because the horse
boy is busy elsewhere, and the horse is holding down his ear all
this time waiting for that particular horse boy to come and twist
it.”
I was both pained and irresistibly amused by an incident that
occurred not two hundred miles from New York, when the horse was in
the first stage of training, and stoutly resisted allowing its ear
to be touched.
The missionary was announced to speak in the church on a given
Sunday, when the annual collection would be taken up. A good member
of the church—the pastor says a sincere Christian—was very much
put out about it; had heard enough of these old missionaries,
and was not going to hear any more; did not believe in foreign
missions—we had heathen enough at home.
The appointed Sunday came. Mr. A. and his family stayed away from
church because they would not countenance the missionary address.
They, therefore, missed the announcement which the pastor made,
viz., that a telegram had been received that it was impossible for
the missionary to be there. He would come next Sunday, and the
annual collection would be deferred until then.
The following Sunday Mr. A. and family all filed into their pew,
serene and happy in the thought that they had avoided the old
missionary. As the organ[264] was playing the voluntary, the pastor
entered the pulpit from the vestry and a stranger with him. The
pastor took the opening exercises and the second hymn was sung,
when the pastor rose and said that Mr.——, the missionary, as
announced last Sunday, would now address them.
Mr. A. was thunderstruck. He did not like to go out in the middle
of a service, and so determined to sit it through. The missionary
told his simple tale. The plates came in. The collection was
unprecedentedly large. Mr. A.’s plethoric pocket-book had disgorged
itself upon the plates, and no heartier worker for foreign missions
is now found in that church. Mr. A. had tried his best to keep his
ear from being twisted. Now it needs no twisting. He has learned to
go and loves to go.
There was a church in our fold at home whose pastor was determined
that it should not be wound up for foreign missions. He had
succeeded, as he himself told me, in keeping all missionaries and
secretaries and agents out of his pulpit during all the years of
his pastorate. When the day came for collections for any of our
Boards the fact was stated, the plates were passed, and those gave
who wished. The collection, as a matter of course, under such a
chill, was a minimum.
It required some of the very best and most wary and skillful
manœuvring to get hold of the ear of that church; but it was
obtained and twisted, and off it started on the trot in the
missionary work, and since then it has annually held down its ear
and begged to have it twisted, as it wanted to go more.
Scores of incidents which occurred in my own experiences among the
churches in America, and which recalled my “horse winding,” come
crowding into my mind, but I forbear.
For I remember the phalanx of noble churches that needed no such
winding up, who were all alive and always on the alert; who gave
regularly, generously, nobly; who, from the pastor, the head, to
the humblest member, prayed from the lips, from the heart, from
the pocket, “Thy Kingdom come.” They are always glad to get hold
of the recruiting watchman, and ask him, “Watchman, what of the
night?” but they never have to be wound up to start them giving.
God give us more and more of such churches and more such Christians
and church members, so that no missionary or secretary need come to
beg, but can come with radiant countenance and say, “Brethren,
with the funds you are continually sending us for the work, we
have done for the Master thus and thus.” Then in looking over our
churches and our benevolent work we shall no longer have occasion
to remember “the horse that had to be wound up.”
Rev. Jacob Chamberlain, D.D.
Mudnapilly, India, April 30, 1879.
Athens, Ala.—The Rev. Horace J. Taylor writes to us:
“Work has commenced for the new building. We have the yard
prepared, and are now engaged in making brick. I am treasurer
and chairman of the building committee, and the building will be
finished without at any time being in debt one cent, if it takes
three years to finish it.”
Anniston, Ala.—The pastor of this church had written us
asking for an organ[265] to help in its services. Before the request
was made public, one of our old and faithful friends wrote us that
his resources had been so much curtailed that he could send us no
gift in money, but that he had a cabinet organ which he would be
glad to send us, if we could make it of service in our work. The
organ went to Anniston. Rev. Mr. McEntosh, the pastor, writes: “I
wish you could have seen the bright eyes of the children in the
Sunday-school, and the admiration and surprise of the adults, as
they listened with solemn and pleasing quietness to the sweet tones
of the new organ, as it gave the heart-cheering notes of ‘One there
is above all others.’ I cannot arrange words to express our thanks
to you and to the many friends of the descendants of Ham.”
Childersburg, Ala.—Rev. Alfred Jones writes: “I have had
my series of meetings; eight came to Christ, and five joined my
church—four young men and one girl,—and I think they bid fair
for the future. They all belong to my Sunday-school. I am holding
my fort, and expect to have a good church. I am doing all that I
can, and feel that the Lord is with me.”
—At a meeting held by the influential Friends in Philadelphia
this week, to consider the condition of the negro refugees in
Kansas, some new facts were brought to light. It appears from the
statements made to them that the negroes are not all so needy as is
supposed; some of them have money to buy land, and have bought it.
The Freedmen’s Relief Association has bought 5,000 acres at $2.65
per acre, has made the first payment, and put some of the refugees
to work on it. The second payment is not due for four years, and
before that time they hope the blacks will have got Northern legs
under them, so to speak, enough to be able to pay it themselves.
Many of the older men and women, however, are not self-supporting,
and never will be. The facts stated of their immediate need were
so well authenticated, and the methods suggested for their help so
practicable, that the Friends have taken up the matter in earnest.
—The Exodus is attracting increased attention among colored people
in Virginia and North Carolina, though they are acting with more
deliberation than is shown in Louisiana and Mississippi. A colony
has been formed in Lynchburg to proceed West as soon as requisite
funds can be collected. A colony in North Carolina has sent one of
its members West to prospect.
—The Ponca Indians.—The Ponca Indians have always been
peaceful and friendly. It is not known that any of their number
ever killed a white man. In 1858 they released to the United States
all their land, except about twenty square miles. In response to
a clamor from the whites to get this from them a new treaty was
made in 1866, by which the Poncas ceded 30,000 acres to the United
States, and the latter ceded to the Poncas certain townships. On
this land they built houses, raised crops, and lived happily and
prosperously, but the white man would not let them alone. In 1877
Indian Agent James Lawrence, Indian Inspector E. C. Kemble, and
Rev. S. D. Hinman, an Episcopal Missionary among the Indians, came
and insisted that the United States wanted them to leave and go to
the Indian Territory. This they refused to do. A paper purporting
to be a contract was drawn up by these men; the signature of a half
breed by the name of[266] Lone Chief, who does not belong to the tribe,
was attached to it. This paper was forwarded to Washington, placed
on file without examination, I suppose, and the United States
Army was ordered to see that the tribe was removed. I have seen
and examined a copy of that so-called contract, and it is simply
infamous to call it a contract. It is nothing more than a record
of what was said at a council, and has internal marks that the
speeches from which it quotes were never made. Yet on the strength
of that paper, with all the chiefs of the tribe protesting against
the outrage, these people, 715 in number, were taken and carried to
the Indian Territory, and left in a malarial country, without money
and without shelter, to get along as best they might.
Since that time, about 300 of them have died. But that is not all
of this unspeakable villainy. The household and farm effects,
horses and ponies and cattle, the whole not worth less than
$200,000, were taken and sold, and the proceeds put into the
pockets of nobody knows whom. The Indians got none of it. One of
the chiefs, Standing Bear, escaped from the Indian Territory and
travelled back into Northern Nebraska, that he might find exemption
from death. Here he was arrested for being off his reservation,
and started as a prisoner for the Indian Territory. On his way
through Omaha, Mr. T. H. Tibbles, of one of the Omaha papers,
interviewed him, and so thoroughly were that gentleman’s sympathies
stirred by the recital of the old man’s wrongs, that he made an
effort to secure his release by a writ of habeas corpus. In this he
succeeded, and Standing Bear was released.
There were two points in law, either one of which would release
him. First, the Indian is a person, and the Constitution
prohibits any distinction being made against any person born in
this country, on account of race, color or previous condition;
and, second, if we regard the Indian as a foreigner, still the
right of expatriation is a principle recognized by our Government,
and under the operation of that principle the prisoner could not
be restrained from his liberty. The judge, therefore, ordered
his discharge. This is the first instance in the history of the
country where an Indian has secured standing in a United States
court. It is proposed now to bring suit for the recovery of the
Ponca reservation. In the opinion of lawyers who have carefully
examined into the case, the suit can be successfully carried; and
if this is done, the heaviest blow ever yet dealt against the
unholy treatment the Indians have received from wicked men will
be given, and the way opened by which justice may at length be
done these terribly abused people. There is need that the friends
of justice and humanity throughout the country take hold of this
matter vigorously. The Indian ring, with millions of dollars to
back them, will fight to the bitter end. It will cost money to put
this thing through. Not less than four thousand dollars should be
in the treasury at the start. Col. C. G. Hammond was appointed
treasurer at a recent meeting in Chicago, and is already receiving
remittances. A committee was appointed to raise funds in the city.
Let Boston take hold of this matter, and all New England follow.
Able lawyers are ready to give their services free. Let money be
forthcoming to raise the issue at once and carry it forward from
step to step till victory crown the effort.—Scrooby, in
the Congregationalist.
—The Interior Department has official information that white men
have stolen about seven hundred horses from the Indians at the
Red Cloud Agency, and run them across the Nebraska line, during
the past few weeks. The State authorities are doing nothing to
prevent similar raids upon the property of the Indians, and the
military authorities, on account of the posse comitatus law
of last year,[267] stand by without intercepting or pursuing the
marauders, although the stolen horses are driven right past Camp
Sheridan and Camp Robinson, on the way to market, or to the horse
thieves’ corrals. The Indian Agent, having no armed force at his
command, is powerless to stop the depredations. The Indians,
notwithstanding their keen sense of injury, manifest no symptoms of
insubordination, but remain entirely peaceable, and are beginning
to devote themselves to farming. The Spotted Tail Indians, within
the past two years, have lost several thousand horses in the same
way. These facts reinforce our plea for extending the jurisdiction
of the United States courts over the reservations. But, as it is,
the Department must be impotent indeed to rest supinely without
bringing this matter before the Cabinet, and ascertaining whether
there be not power somewhere in this Government to secure justice
to peaceable Indians when robbed and plundered.—Advance.
—A report from Fort Ellis says that there are 400 Indians there
starving, and their number is being daily added to. A band of 300
are reported within a few days’ march of Port Ellis, unable to
proceed farther on account of weakness.
Catalogues sent free to parties needing bells.
