This, like all previous fields of army mission work, was a laborious one. Our Sundays were spent in teaching a large cla.s.s in three Sabbath-schools, besides attending the public services and generally taking part in them. At the close of one of the meetings a deacon and his wife rushed through the crowd to me, and gave such an exhibition of joy that it drew the attention of the congregation. He gave a glowing account of my visit to Little Rock, Arkansas, and of my life-long work for their down-trodden people. The hand-shaking for half an hour made my hands lame for three days. The deacon bought himself when a young man, and acquired a property worth four thousand dollars. Slave-holders often said that he knew too much, and thought he was a damage to their slaves. If they lost any, they charged him with aiding them away. He was often lodged in jail and fines imposed upon him. At length he sold his property at half its value to come to Kansas, where he could breathe freely.

On New Year's day I found a poor woman in the last stages of consumption. She could not speak a loud word. I hired another poor woman to care for her, by giving bed and wearing clothes for herself and children. I left them in tears, saying, "We thank you, honey, and praise G.o.d. When my poor mother died in that old out-cellar, neither father nor one of us was permitted to give her a cup of cold water, but the last words she was heard to say was, 'I'm going home to die no more.'"

I visited ten families and sent four boxes more of supplies to Fort Scott. The next day I took a barrel of hospital supplies to Fort Leavenworth.

My supplies were now low, and the money nearly spent. I received a letter from the chairman of the committee having charge of preparations for the Ladies' State Freedmen's Fair, to be held in Detroit, soliciting relics of the war. J. R. Brown proposed that I should attend the fair and take his brother's sharp-shooter, that the captain carried through the border-ruffian conflict in Kansas, and during his movement at Harper's Ferry. After a few days' reflection I reached the conclusion to go. General Curtis gave me a pa.s.s to Detroit and return.

The John Brown gun created much interest. Besides this relic, the fifty pounds of slave-irons, which we picked up on deserted plantations in the far South, were exhibited in this fair. A pet.i.tion from Lenawee County was sent to the committee having charge of the fair, to place the avails of our county, one thousand dollars, in my hands for distribution. This money relieved much suffering, and no doubt saved many lives.

During my visit home I sold Raisin Inst.i.tute and ten acres of land, with an excellent orchard, to the State Freedmen's Aid Commission for an orphans' home. I donated three hundred dollars of the purchase money to this enterprise, stipulating that the premises were to be used for no other purpose. In my absence the friends gave the asylum the name of "Haviland Home for Homeless and Dest.i.tute Children." This home I intended as a nucleus for a State Orphan Asylum, as the war had increased the necessity for such an inst.i.tution.

After two weeks' absence I returned with supplies. Spring was lessening the suffering, yet sickness from long exposures still prevailed. Miss Fidelia Phillips, a teacher, came with a letter from the Michigan Freedmen's Aid Commission, for us to locate and secure board, which duty fell upon me. I hired a conveyance and took her to Oskaloosa, Jefferson County, and found board for her in the kind family of Dr. J.

Nelson, who proposed to a.s.sist the colored people in securing a house for the school at once.

I found here a poor sick woman with her five children, who was ordered out of her cabin, as she could no longer pay the rent. Dr. Nelson promised to see that she was not disturbed until she was able to be moved, when he would take the family to Leavenworth to go with me to our Home for Homeless Children in Michigan. Her husband was in the army, and she had not heard from him since he enlisted. On my return to Leavenworth I received an order from our Freedmen's Aid Commission, to send twenty-five children with five mothers to a.s.sist in caring for them. I accompanied them as far as Quincy, Illinois, with Mrs. Lee and a teacher who had been in the work a few months. They pursued their journey, and I went back.

On April 15th the sad news reached us of the a.s.sa.s.sination of President Lincoln! A nation in mourning! Every house of any note or size was draped with black.

We were now preparing to close the two refugee buildings before leaving for Michigan. I offered the women the best dresses for finding their own places for work, and by this means many found places, if only to work for their board till they could do better. A good old woman we called Aunt Phoebe came to us with her four grandchildren, and begged to go to Michigan with me. She said the father of the children ran away to enlist in the army, and his master followed him. After an absence of three days, he returned with the report that he had got sight at him, and ordered him to come to him, but he refused, and he shot him dead.

At this report his wife (the daughter of Aunt Phoebe), gave a scream and fainted. Both master and mistress were very severe, and whipped her severely for making so much fuss, as they called her grief. She sank under their severity, and died, leaving her infant, a week old, with her mother. Within a few days the oldest boy was taken with small-pox, but as he was not very near the other sick children, Dr. Carpenter thought the others would escape. I rolled him in a couple of quilts and sent him to the pest-house. Aunt Phoebe wept bitterly, as she said she should probably never see Jerry again, and he was such a good boy to help her take care of the other children. A few days later she was taken with a low type of lung fever. I had one of the colored women in the place nurse her.

The white refugee women took but little notice of my offer of best dresses, in finding homes for themselves. I found these women of the lowest cla.s.s of humanity. I called on General Curtis, and told him I had expended my fund of lecturing material upon these white women in the refugee building, and now I had come to report to him as I had of late threatened them, that, while I was willing to do to the extent of my ability in relieving and improving the most degraded, I could not consent to keep under my charge a house of ill-fame. "I will give you a good honest guard day and night over that building," said the n.o.ble general. This did more than all things else to scatter them. They swore they would not be tyrannized over by that Yankee woman any longer, and left, very much to my relief.

Within four weeks our little small-pox boy was returned, but not as safe as the surgeon reported I took him into the wash-room and gave him a thorough cleansing, before taking him to see his grandmother, who wept for joy.

I spent a few days in revisiting Quindaro, Lawrence, Wyandotte, and Kansas City. I found seven homeless children, and a mother of three of them who wished to go with me to Michigan. During the day and night I was in Kansas City I was taken with a severe attack of pneumonia. I called on an army surgeon for mustard, of which, I placed a plaster over the seat of the pain, that had become so severe as to cut every breath. I could neither lie down nor sit still, but walked the room.

Placing the children in charge of the mother, I telegraphed my sergeant to meet me at the boat with a hack. I took the boat for Leavenworth, where the carriage met me, and I was taken to our home, with a high fever, but the pain not quite so severe, as the mustard was serving its purpose. Dr. Carpenter said I could not go to Michigan under a month.

Although my side remained very sore, yet I managed to sell the furniture. I took a hack to General Curtis's office, and managed to secure transportation for seventy-five, myself and Mrs. Lee included.

There were three sick children, and I very much doubted the propriety of removing them. Dr. Carpenter said they would be more likely to live than if taken to the hospital, as I proposed.

We left the city May 28th, with a cloud resting over the nation. My health was still poor, and we had three sick children, whose mother was with them; three other children began to complain of chills and fever soon after leaving. These cases soon developed in measles, but my haste to reach home urged me to proceed against my better judgment. While it looked like presumption in others, I felt safe, as prayer for guidance was my daily bread. While waiting at St. Joseph, Missouri, for the train, I obtained rations for the company. Susan B. Anthony had provided a lunch-basket, well filled, for Mrs. Lee and myself, to serve for the entire journey.

While we were handing around rations, various remarks were made as to what I was going to do with all this company. Said one, "I reckon, she's got a big plantation to stock with a picked set of young n.i.g.g.e.rs, she's going to train to her own liking." Said another, "I am going to ask where she is going with them." At length one ventured, "Will you please excuse me, madam, if I ask you where you are taking all this company?"

"Certainly," was my answer; "I am glad to inform you. I am taking these orphan children, who have been picked up on the streets, and out of freedmen's homes, to an orphan school in Michigan. By order of the State Freedmen's Aid Commission, they will be sent to school until good homes can be secured for them, where they will be taught habits of industry, as well as to improve their intellects. We of the North think they can learn, if an opportunity is provided."

At this he was much pleased, and, as it was communicated to other bystanders, a number came to congratulate me in my good work. One, who had a large number of slaves, said he wished they were with me, "as it would be a right smart of a while before it'll be settled here to have schools for 'em."

All stood ready to put the sick ones on the train. Mrs. Lee took care of the sick during the night, and I had them in charge during the day.

After our arrival at Quincy, Illinois, and our transportation papers were filled out for Chicago, with a little difficulty I secured the largest coach for the seventy-five pa.s.sengers. By 9 P. M. all were in their beds. A few men were disposed to trouble us, because we did not allow them to enter. I called for the night policeman, and told him of four drunken men who were disposed to give us trouble, and as the train was not going out until eleven o'clock I appealed to him for aid. He a.s.sured me we should not receive further annoyance from them. We arrived in Chicago thirty minutes before the Michigan train left for Adrian. I bought tickets for four omnibus loads, but the drivers were determined to crowd them all into two. As they were putting little folks from four to eight years old on the tops I ordered them down. "We are capable of taking care of these children, madam," said they; "you take that one."

"So am I capable of taking care of them," I replied, "and of you too; I paid for four omnibuses and must have them." They had their own sport over their countermanded orders.

We arrived at Adrian June 1st, and met the superintendent of the "Haviland Home" with teams for the women and children. Here my heavy burden fell off, and I dropped into the home of my children to get the rest which I so much needed.

A few week's rest restored my health. Meanwhile I visited our State Prison, and one of the convicts, Thomas Lean, requested an interview with me, which was granted by the officer. He appealed to me to aid him in securing his pardon, as he had served seven years of his term of fifteen. He pleaded as earnestly in behalf of his wife and two little children as for himself. I told him I would do what I could, but as efforts had been made twice before, I thought success quite doubtful. I drafted a pet.i.tion, and secured a letter of recommendation from Governor Blair, and a strong letter from Judge Ross Wilkins, who gave the sentence, and from the prosecuting attorney who acted in behalf of the United States in his case, and also secured fifty other names to the pet.i.tion. With six hundred dollars placed in my hands by Mrs.

Campbell and Mrs. Pappineau, committee who had charge of the funds of the Freedmen's Fair, I left for Washington, D. C., August 3d. At Pittsburg I spent one night, and on the following day visited the State Prison at Allegheny City.

The next morning I took the early train for Baltimore, and from thence to Annapolis, to learn the result of Elizabeth L. Comstock's pet.i.tion in behalf of fifteen convicts in the Maryland Penitentiary for aiding slaves to escape from bondage. I found ten of those men had been pardoned, but as four of them had used weapons in defending themselves, and one had taken a span of horses which the friends engaged in their behalf deemed theft, they were retained in prison. I found another on the governor's record for the same offense. I took the names of the six on my list, as the governor thought they were as worthy of release as the others, since the weapons were designed for self-defense, and the horses were only used to take them to the river, and were left to return to their owners. I saw the names of the friends who co-operated with E. L. Comstock on the pet.i.tion, and called on James Bains, who introduced me to Judge Bond. The judge said he thought I was correct in my views as to the worthiness of the six men presented for his recommendation to the governor for clemency, and that he would attend to it soon. Said the Friend: "If thou feel'st easy to pet.i.tion for their pardon I think thou hadst better remain with us until it is accomplished, as they have such an amount of business on hand at this time."

The judge seemed to think himself distrusted, and said: "Mrs. Haviland, I will attend to this within a week." With this a.s.surance I told the judge and the Friend that I should feel easy to pursue my journey the first of the week.

From this office I was accompanied to the penitentiary and introduced to the warden, who sent a guide to conduct me through the shops and granted me the privilege of addressing the sixty-eight female convicts.

A large majority of them were colored, placed there by their former owners for trivial offenses, the real cause being that of leaving them, but ostensibly for stealing a dress, a pair of shoes, or a dollar or two, etc. One smart-looking octoroon girl of eighteen years was about to be whipped by her mistress, but she had heard of the proclamation of emanc.i.p.ation and concluded that she had been whipped long enough, and s.n.a.t.c.hed the cowhide from the mistress and whipped her. For this she was arrested, had a sham trial, and a sentence of nine years'

imprisonment in the penitentiary. One man told me that the mistress reported that the girl half killed her, but he saw her riding out within four days after the whipping, and she looked as well as usual. I visited a very sick white woman in her cell, to whom I read a portion of Scripture, and at her request led in prayer. She said she was going to meet her Judge, in whom she trusted. Jesus hears the cry of a repentant sinner, and she was confident.

The following day was the Sabbath, and I accompanied my friend to the penitentiary, where he opened the Sabbath-school and invited me to teach a cla.s.s of thirty men. There were nearly five hundred inmates in prison. As we were leaving the yard a request from the warden reached me to conduct the funeral service of the woman I had visited. She died within a few hours after I left. Three o'clock P.M. was the hour appointed. I met them in their chapel, that was well filled, some ladies of the city being present. Many of the convicts were much affected. They also manifested great interest at the meeting on the previous day.

On the following day I arrived at Washington. I found the White House perfectly besieged with pardon-seekers from ex-slave States. I called on a number of the officials, who said that the severity of Thomas Lean's sentence made the case look dark. I told them of one who had robbed the mail of five thousand dollars and was pardoned in three years, whose term was ten years. But he had wealthy and influential friends to intercede for him, while this man robbed the mail of forty-two dollars and had served over seven years of the fifteen, and was poor. Besides, his wife was in poor health, and was supporting herself and two small children. I was advised to take the letters, with pet.i.tion, to Postmaster-general Dennison, from whom I secured a recommendation for his pardon. From thence I went to the capitol and secured the names of Hon. F. C. Beaman, Member of Congress, Senator Z.

Chandler, and all other Michigan members of both Houses to my pet.i.tion; and through Mr. Wade, the President's house-keeper, I secured an audience with the President, who took my letters with the pet.i.tion and said he would refer them to the Attorney-general, and do what seemed best in the case. I then left him with his room crowded with Southern pardon-seekers.

While in the Postmaster-general's office the chief clerk said, "Come into this, office at nine A.M., next Wednesday, as I think that will be his pardoning day, and you will learn the result." I waited until eleven A.M., fearing for the worst. As I opened the office-door the clerk threw up both hands, crying, "Your man is pardoned! your man is pardoned! Come and see the notice in this morning's paper." A hearty hand-shaking followed the good news.

I told him I did not know that he had taken such an interest in my cause. He replied, "I have had an interest in this case from the first time you came into this office." A few days after I received a note from the pardoned man conveying his tearful thanks. Here was another burden laid aside, for which grateful thanks were tendered to the Healer of broken hearts.

I received a permit from Secretary Stanton to trade at the government store, where new goods were being sold at auction rates. For five hundred dollars I purchased two thousand dollars' worth of supplies to disburse among the sick, crippled, and aged, both colored and white.

There were many in Washington and Georgetown relieved from great suffering. I learned of much suffering at Harper's Ferry, and took four hundred dollars' worth to that point.

On my way I called at the Baltimore penitentiary. As I entered the warden's office he informed me that our men had been released ten days before, except one, who was going out within a week. Another burden left me. These men were making efforts to free their families by flight, and were caught and received long sentences, according to the number in their families. Three men of the six had bought themselves, and in their efforts to free their families received from ten to thirty years' sentence, although two of these families were recovered by their owners. They all looked like intelligent men. I took an early train for Harper's Ferry. In the seat opposite sat a Presbyterian D. D., with his body-servant, who was very attentive in bringing him his coffee, books, or roll of ma.n.u.script "How far are you going on this road, madam?"

inquired our dignitary.

On informing him he inquired, "Have you friends there?"

"I have," I said, "but I never saw them. They are the poorest of the poor, the sick, lame, and blind, of all cla.s.ses, black, white, red, or yellow. I draw no lines of demarcation."

"Well, madam, that is a n.o.ble work, and G.o.d will bless you in it. I am now on my way to Vicksburg. I preached in that city a number of years.

I own a plantation near that city, and had forty slaves. A little before Vicksburg fell I moved with them to Richmond, Virginia, and when that city fell I set them free, and they are now as free as myself.

Madam, I will tell you what your duty is. It is to go to New York, Philadelphia, and Boston, and gather up fifty thousand dollars, and follow Sherman's track through to the Gulf. You will find plenty of suffering to relieve among both white and black; and you can do it.

Those cities I have named are wealthy, I have been there myself. I spent a few months in New York, and I know you can gather up that amount easy, and it's your duty, madam; and G.o.d will bless you in it."

The consequential air be a.s.sumed would give one an impression that he, at least, considered himself, inspired with power from on high. He did not feel quite satisfied without repeating his command on our arrival at Harper's Ferry: "Do as I have told you, madam, and G.o.d will bless you; good by."

I found my goods had just arrived, and the commander of the post kindly offered to store the bales of supplies and furnish an ambulance and driver whenever I desired. My first inquiry was for a boarding place, as the house where the colonel was boarding was full. Mrs. Johnson was about opening a boarding-house, and I called on her for a few days'

board.

"Where are you from?"

"From Washington," was my reply, "with supplies for the poor freedmen and whites who are in a suffering condition."

"Oh, you are a Bureau woman then. We don't have nothin' to do with Bureau folks. I can't board you."

After being directed to two others, who made like inquiries, and received like replies, I found I was going to have an all-day job on hand in feeling the public pulse at Harper's Ferry. After making eight calls, chatting a while at each place pleasantly, for I would talk in no other way, although I was told in nearly every place that no one in that town would disgrace himself by walking on the streets with a n.i.g.g.e.r teacher, or speaking to one, on my way to report my unsuccessful day's work to the colonel, it being after sunset, I found an army surgeon sitting on his front porch.

"Have you found no place for dinner?" he asked.

"O no," I said, "I have been amusing myself over Confederate fever that I find runs too high for health in your town."