A Woman's Life-Work-Labors and Experiences of Laura S. Haviland Part 14

"That is the name by which I am called."

"Is this indeed the lady we've been talking about, and of whose appearance you gave such a brilliant description?" And he laughed heartily. "Well, well, Mrs. Haviland, don't judge our city by this little flurry of excitement; for we have good, substantial people in our town, and I hope you'll visit our city again sometime, and you'll find it's true. I reckon if those excited men had arrested you, there would have rallied to your aid a different cla.s.s of men; for your errand was perfectly proper, and you would have been borne out in it, too, by the more sensible people of our city."

But my Cincinnati friends were not so confident of my safety. Said Levi Coffin, as I met him, "Dr. Brisbane has said it was most likely that we should find thee in prison; and our friend, James G. Birney, is also very much discouraged, and said he was sorry thou went at this time of excitement, of both North and South, over the lynching of Williams near Baltimore, the binding of Conklin and throwing him into the river, and now the illegal capture of Calvin Fairbanks in Indiana, and taking him over into Kentucky and lodging him in jail there. But they have no regard or respect for law. As we knew all this, we have all been exceedingly anxious for thy safety."

It was a season of rejoicing with us all that our suffering brother in prison had received present relief; and no threats were put in execution in regard to myself. I realized an answer to prayer before I left for that prison, and not a moment while in Louisville did I in the least doubt the keeping power to be stronger than the power of darkness. Our friend, James G. Birney, being feeble in health, sent for me to spend a day in his family; and a rich feast I enjoyed in listening to the experience of that n.o.ble Christian man. Worthy was he to have presided over our nation.

Excitement does not cease, though the base is changed. Tidings came to us that fourteen newly-arrived fugitives were housed in the bas.e.m.e.nt of Zion Baptist Church. I repaired at once to see what was needed for their journey, and found a very sick babe, two months old. The mother said it was very sick before they left, and she did not expect it to live, but their arrangements were made to go for freedom, and she would rather bury her child on the way than to stay behind till it left her.

It died that night, and they were provided with a respectable coffin, and the company, with others, formed a funeral procession to the burying-ground. After the burial the thirteen fugitives were taken to the Quaker settlement, twenty-five miles distant, and from thence were forwarded to Canada. The colored members of our vigilance committee informed me that an infant died in that bas.e.m.e.nt once before, and they took up a part of the floor and buried the child in the grave prepared for it, to avoid suspicion; for its parents were the slaves of a wealthy Kentuckian, who was making great efforts to capture the family.

CHAPTER VII.

CHRISTIAN AND EDUCATIONAL WORK.

Very many incidents of interest we must pa.s.s over; but, suffice to say, there was seldom a week pa.s.sed without a slave or slaves leaving a boat or otherwise crossing the river in quest of freedom.

I met on the street a sister White, who was much distressed about her son, who was almost gone with consumption, and yet was unwilling to see any minister or religious person, to say any thing to him about a preparation for the change. "Do, please, go with me now to see my dying son Harvey. May he'll listen to you."

I went to her house, and found him too weak to talk much. The mother introduced me as her friend who had called on her. I took his emaciated hand, and said, "I see you are very low and weak, and I do not wish to worry you with talking, but you have but little hope of being restored to health I should judge from your appearance."

He turned his head on his pillow as he said, "I can never be any better--I can't live."

"Then your mind has been turned toward the future, and may the enlightening influence of the Holy Spirit lead you to the Great Physician of souls, who knows every desire of the heart, and is able to save to the uttermost, even at the eleventh hour." I saw the starting tear as he looked earnestly at me, while I was still holding his feverish hand in mine. "Will it be too much for you, in your weak condition, if I should read to you a few of the words of our Lord and Savior?"

"O no, I'd like to hear you."

I opened to John xiv; and upon reading a few verses I saw that the impression made was deepening, and asked if it would worry him too much if I should spend a few moments in prayer.

"O no, I'd like to hear you pray."

Placing my hand on his forehead, I implored divine aid in leading this precious soul to the cleansing fountain, and that his faith might increase, and in its exercise be enabled to secure the pearl of great price.

As I arose from his bedside, he reached out both hands for mine, and said, "I want you to come to-morrow." He wept freely; and I left with the burden of that precious soul upon my heart.

The mother and sister, who were both professors of religion, stood near the door weeping for joy over the consent of the dear son and brother to listen to the few words of reading and prayer.

The day following I met the sick man again, and as soon as I entered his mother's room she said, "O, how thankful we are to G.o.d for this visit to my poor boy! He seems in almost constant prayer for mercy.

Early this morning he spoke of your coming to-day."

As I entered his room he threw up both hands, saying, "G.o.d will have mercy on poor me, won't he?"

"Most certainly," I responded; "his word is nigh thee, even in thy heart, and in thy mouth."

"Do pray for me," he requested.

I read a few words from the Bible, and followed with prayer, in which he joined with a few e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns. I left him much more hopeful than on the previous day.

The next morning his sister came for me in great haste, saying, "Brother Harvey wants to see you, quick."

It was not yet sunrise; but I hastened to obey the message, as I supposed he was dying. Not a word pa.s.sed between us until we reached her brother's room. Upon opening his door he exclaimed, "Glory, glory to G.o.d, Mrs. Haviland! Come to me quick, I want to kiss you; for G.o.d brought me out of darkness this morning about the break of day. O hallelujah! Glory to Jesus! He shed his blood for poor me; and I shouted louder than I could talk for a good many days. O, how I wish I had strength to tell every body that I am happier in one minute than I ever knew in all my life put together!"

He became quite exhausted in shouting and talking, and I advised him to rest now in the arms of the beloved Savior.

"Yes, I am in his arms. Glory to his name for what he has done for me!

I want you to see my cousin George; he is sick, and not able to come to see me to-day."

I told him I would within a few days, and left him, with his cup of salvation overflowing.

About two hours before he died he looked at his mother, smiling, and said, "There's Mary; don't you see her, standing at the foot of my bed?"

"No, my son, mother don't see her."

"O, how beautiful she looks! It seems as if you _must_ see her," and he looked very earnestly at the object. "There, she's gone now." Fifteen minutes before he breathed his last he said, "Here she is again, and so beautiful! Mother, can't you see her?"

"No, son, I can't see her."

"Beautiful, beautiful she is. There, she's gone again." Just as the soul took its flight, he upraised both hands, with a smile, and said, "Here she is, with two angels with her. They've come for me;" and the hands dropped as the breath left him, with the smile retained, on his countenance.

The sister Mary, that died a number of years previously, was about four years old; and his mother told me she had not heard her name mentioned in the family for months before Harvey's death.

My time was fully occupied in caring for the sick and dying, as cholera had become very prevalent and fatal. Among the many who died with that disease were Levi and Catherine Coffin's daughter Anna, about ten years of age, and a lady, the mother of three children, whose dying request was that I should take charge of her children until the return of their father, who was in California.

A few weeks pa.s.sed, and my promise to Harvey White was forgotten, until one morning it rushed upon me with such force that I trembled. I hastened to see him, and, to my surprise, he too was very near to death with consumption, and without hope. His mother was a widow, also an earnest Christian; but her son George would not allow her or any of the ministers of her acquaintance to talk with him on the subject of religion. But he was glad to hear that his cousin Harvey had died so happy; and she thought if I should tell him about Harvey he would listen to me. He could speak but little above a whisper, I told him of my reading to Harvey, and asked if he would like to hear me read the same to him. He said he would; and I read the same words, and told him how earnestly his cousin Harvey had prayed, and G.o.d, who hears and answers prayer, answered him, and he died a happy Christian. His feelings became tender, and I knelt by his bedside in supplication. As I was about to leave, he said:

"There is a difficulty in my way, and I think you can remove it; but I am more rested early in the morning, and if you can come to-morrow morning I will tell you what it is."

I told him I would be there if life and health were spared.

The following morning I met him more rested. He said:

"I have tried to pray to G.o.d; then it seems as if Jesus Christ stands there, and if I pray to Jesus it don't feel quite clear, because I want to go to head-quarters, and I am confused, and don't know where to go or what to do, and so I've given it all up; for it's all dark before me, and I've concluded to die in the dark."

This sorrowful condition of unbelief brought secret prayer for divine guidance in words to place the divinity of the Lord Jesus as clearly as possible before him. I read a few pa.s.sages where he manifested his power by miracles, "that ye may know that the Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sins." He heard me attentively, and suddenly exclaimed:

"Now I see it; now I see it; now I've got a foothold. Now I can pray. I want you to pray for me."

He followed in earnest prayer. At the close he raised his clasped hands: "I've found him; I've got him. O, how I wish I could have voice and strength to tell you how happy I am! I want to go to my Savior; he is my all. But I can not tell it here; I will tell it in glory. It's all light now; the darkness, is all gone."

He seemed much exhausted, and took leave of his mother and mister, and sank into a stupor, and quietly pa.s.sed away that afternoon.

I felt under renewed obligations to praise Him for his loving kindness in reminding me, so vividly of the promise I made to that dying young man, Harvey White. How careful we should be to attend, to every little errand as we are pa.s.sing through our life-work. I felt to upbraid myself for being so inattentive to that request. Had that precious soul left the sh.o.r.es of time without hope in Christ, I could never have forgiven myself for my neglect. There are neglected duties that dot my life here and there with regrets, that have been lessons to teach the necessity of greater faithfulness in the Master's work.

The daughter of John Hatfield came to me with the word that there was a woman at their house who wished to see me. Her father being a member of the vigilance committee I went without delay, and found the woman in great distress of mind. She said she was a slave, but had the privilege of working in Cincinnati at house-cleaning, washing, or any jobs she could get, by paying her mistress three dollars per week. In this way she had managed to lay aside for herself over twenty dollars during nearly two years. She had a husband and nine children, "An' las' year,"

said she, "missus was gwine to sell my oldes' gal an' her baby to get money to keep her two gals in school Norf somewhars, an' she tuck her baby an' run off for Canada, an' now she says she's got to sell my Mary;" and her tears came as from a fountain.