In the summer of 1874 Rev. John P. Williamson made a tour up the Missouri River as far as Fort Peck. His judgment was that there was no opening at that place for the establishment of a new mission, but that something might possibly be done by native Dakotas. In the meantime, we had heard from the regions farther north than Fort Peck, where some of our church-members had gone after the outbreak of 1862. Somewhere up in Manitoba, near Fort Ellice, was Henok Appearing Cloud, with his relatives. His mother, Mazaskawin,—Silver-Woman,—was a member of the Hazelwood church, and his father, Wamde-okeya,—Eagle Help,—had been my old helper in Dakota translations. These were all near relatives of Solomon Toonkanshaecheye, one of our native pastors.
Dr. Williamson, by correspondence with the Presbyterian Board, obtained an appropriation of several hundred dollars to send a native missionary to these Dakotas in Canada. Solomon gladly accepted the undertaking, and in the month of June, 1875, started for Manitoba with Samuel Hopkins for a companion.
They were received with a great deal of joy by their friends, who entreated them to stay, or come back again if they left. But provisions were very scarce, and hard to be obtained; and hence they determined to return to the Sisseton agency before winter. While in Manitoba they had taught and preached the Gospel, and baptizedand received several persons to the fellowship of the church. Solomon wrote, before he returned, “Indeed, there is no food; they have laid up nothing at all; so that, when winter comes, where they will obtain food, and how they will live, no one knows. But I have already found something of what I have been seeking, and very reluctantly I turn away from the work.”
Solomon and Samuel returned to Sisseton, but their visit had created a larger desire for education and the privileges of the Gospel. In the March following, Henok Appearing Cloud wrote that he had taught school during the winter, and conducted religious meetings, as he “wanted the Word of God to grow.” In much simplicity, he adds: “Although I am poor, and often starving, I keep my heart just as though I were rich. When I read again in the Sacred Book what Jesus, the Lord, has promised us, my heart is glad. I am thinking, if a minister will only come this summer and stay with us a little while, our hearts will rejoice. If he comes to stay with us a long time, we will rejoice more. But as we are so often in a starving condition, I know it will be hard for any one to come.”
Rev. John Black of Keldonan Manse, near Winnipeg, heard of this visit of Solomon to Manitoba, and of the desire of those Dakotas to have a missionary. He at once became deeply interested in the movement, and wrote to Dr. Williamson, at St. Peter, proposing that the Presbyterian Missionary Society of Canada should take upon themselves the charge of supporting Solomon as a missionary among the Dakotas of the Dominion. But when the matter was brought before the missionary committee, they decided that the condition of their finances would not allow them to add to their burdens at thattime. It was not, however, given up, and a year later the arrangement was consummated. In theWord Carrierfor December, 1877, appeared this editorial:—
“The most important event occurring in our missionary work during the month of October is the departure of Rev. Solomon Toonkanshaecheye, with his family, for Fort Ellice, in the Dominion of Canada. This has been under advisement by the Presbyterian Foreign Missionary Society of Canada for two years past. Rev. John Black of Keldonan Manse, Manitoba, has been working for it. A year ago the funds of the society would not admit of enlargement in their operations. This year their way has been made clear, and the invitation has come to Solomon to be their missionary among the Dakotas on the Assinaboine River. They pay his expenses of removal, and promise him $600 salary.“He has gone. Agent Hooper of Sisseton agency furnished him with the necessary pass, and essentially aided him in his outfit, and so we sent him off on the tenth day of October, invoking God’s blessing upon him and his by the way, and abundant success for him in his prospective work. From the commencement of negotiations in regard to this matter it has been of special interest to Dr. T. S. Williamson of St. Peter. He has conducted the correspondence with Mr. Black. And now, while the good doctor was lying nigh unto death, as he supposed, the arrangement has gone into effect. If this prove to be his last work on earth (may the good Lord cause otherwise), it will be a matter of joy on his part that thus the Gospel is carried to regions beyond, by so good and trustworthy a man as we have found Solomon to be all through these years.”
“The most important event occurring in our missionary work during the month of October is the departure of Rev. Solomon Toonkanshaecheye, with his family, for Fort Ellice, in the Dominion of Canada. This has been under advisement by the Presbyterian Foreign Missionary Society of Canada for two years past. Rev. John Black of Keldonan Manse, Manitoba, has been working for it. A year ago the funds of the society would not admit of enlargement in their operations. This year their way has been made clear, and the invitation has come to Solomon to be their missionary among the Dakotas on the Assinaboine River. They pay his expenses of removal, and promise him $600 salary.
“He has gone. Agent Hooper of Sisseton agency furnished him with the necessary pass, and essentially aided him in his outfit, and so we sent him off on the tenth day of October, invoking God’s blessing upon him and his by the way, and abundant success for him in his prospective work. From the commencement of negotiations in regard to this matter it has been of special interest to Dr. T. S. Williamson of St. Peter. He has conducted the correspondence with Mr. Black. And now, while the good doctor was lying nigh unto death, as he supposed, the arrangement has gone into effect. If this prove to be his last work on earth (may the good Lord cause otherwise), it will be a matter of joy on his part that thus the Gospel is carried to regions beyond, by so good and trustworthy a man as we have found Solomon to be all through these years.”
Thus was the work commenced. Dr. Williamson did not pass from us then, but lived nearly two years longer, and was cheered by the news of progress in this far-off land. This being among our first efforts to do evangelistic work by sending away our native ministers, our hearts were much bound up in it. The church of Long Hollow was reluctant to give up their pastor, and to me it was giving up one whom I had learned to trust, and,in some measure, to depend upon, among my native pastors. But it was evidently God’s call, and he has already justified himself, even in our eyes. Solomon found a people prepared of the Lord, and, in the summer of 1878, he reports a church organized with thirteen members, which they named Paha-cho-kam-ya—Middle Hill—of which Henok was elected elder.
In the next winter Solomon and Henok made a missionary tour of some weeks, of which we have the following report. The letter is dated “February 22, 1879, at Middle Hill, near Fort Ellice, North-west Territory”:—
“This winter it seemed proper that I should visit the Dakotas living in the extreme settlements, to proclaim to them the Word of God. I first asked counsel of God, and prayed that he would even now have mercy on the people of these end villages, and send his Holy Spirit to cause them to listen to his Word. Then I sent word to the people that I was coming.“Then I started with Mr. Enoch, my elder. The first night we came to three teepees of our own people at Large Lake, and held a meeting with them. The next morning we started, and slept four nights. On the fifth day we came to a large encampment on Elm River. There were a great number of tents, which we visited, and prayed with them, being well received. But as I came to where there were two men, and prayed with them, I told them about him whose name was Jesus—that he was the Helper Man, because he was the Son of God. That he came to earth, made a sacrifice of himself, and died, that he might reconcile all men to God; that he made himself alive again; that, although men have destroyed themselves before God, whosoever knows the meaning of the name of Jesus, and fears for his own soul, and prays, he shall find mercy, and be brought near to God. That is the Name. And he is the Saviour of men, and so will be your Saviour also, I said.“Then one of them in a frightened way answered me: ‘I supposed you were a Dakota, of those who live in cabins. It is not proper that you should say these things. As for me, I do not wantthem. Those who wish may follow in that way; but I will not. You who hold such things should stay at home. What do you come here for?’“Walking-nest then said: ‘You are Cloudman’s son, I suppose, and so you are my cousin. Cousin, when we first came to this country there was a white minister who talked to us and said: “Your hands are full of blood; therefore, when your hands become white, we will teach you.” So he said, and when you brought a book from the south, while they were looking at it, blood dropped from above upon it; and behold, as the white minister said, I conclude we are not yet good. Therefore, my cousin, I am not pleased with your coming,’ he said.“But there were only two men who talked in this way. We left them and visited every house in the camp. Many may have felt as those men did, but did not say it openly. The men said they were glad, and welcomed us into their tents.“The next day I came into a sick man’s tent whose name was Hepan, lying near to death. I talked with him, and prayed to God for him. Then he told me how he longed to hear from his friends down south, and mentioned over half a dozen names of his relatives. A woman also, who was present, said: ‘I want to know if my friends are yet living.’“Then we continued our visiting from house to house. Sometimes we found only children in the tent; sometimes there were men and women, and I prayed with them and told them a word of Jesus. So we came to the teepees in the valley. Then I met Iron Buffalo. There we spent the Sabbath, and held meeting, having twenty-three persons present. A chief man, whose name is War-club-maker, called them together.“Our meetings there being finished, we departed and came to the Wahpaton village. They were making four sacred feasts. We did not go into them. But, visiting other houses, we passed on about five miles, when night came upon us. Still we went on to the end of the settlement, where we held a meeting. The teepee was small, but there I found a sick man who listened to the Word. This was Chaskay, the son of Taoyatedoota. He said he was going to die, and from what source he should hear any word of prayer, or any comforting word of God, was not manifest. But now he had heard these things, and was very glad, he said. This way was the best upon earth, and he believed in it now. So,while we remained there, he wanted us to pray with and for him, he said.“We spent one day there, and the second day we started home, and came to Hunka’s tent, and so proceeded homeward. When we had reached the other end of the settlement, we learned that the white ministers were to hold a meeting of presbytery. They sent word to us to come, and so in the night, with my Hoonkayape, Mr. Enoch, I went back. They asked us to give an account of our missionary journey among the Dakotas. And so we told them where we had been and what we had done. Also, we gave an account of things at Middle Hill, where we live. When we had finished, they all clapped their hands. Then they said they wanted to hear us sing a hymn of praise to God in Dakota. We sang ‘Wakantanka Towaste,’ and at the close they clapped their hands again.“Then two men arose, one after the other. The first said: ‘I have not expected to see such things so soon among the Dakotas. But now I see great things, which I like very much.’ The other man spoke in the same way.“Men and women had come together in their prayer-house, and so there was a large assembly.“Then the minister of that church arose and said: ‘White people, who have grown up hearing of this way of salvation, are expected to believe in it, and I have been accustomed to rejoice in the multiplication of the Christian church; but I rejoice more over this work among the Dakotas.’”
“This winter it seemed proper that I should visit the Dakotas living in the extreme settlements, to proclaim to them the Word of God. I first asked counsel of God, and prayed that he would even now have mercy on the people of these end villages, and send his Holy Spirit to cause them to listen to his Word. Then I sent word to the people that I was coming.
“Then I started with Mr. Enoch, my elder. The first night we came to three teepees of our own people at Large Lake, and held a meeting with them. The next morning we started, and slept four nights. On the fifth day we came to a large encampment on Elm River. There were a great number of tents, which we visited, and prayed with them, being well received. But as I came to where there were two men, and prayed with them, I told them about him whose name was Jesus—that he was the Helper Man, because he was the Son of God. That he came to earth, made a sacrifice of himself, and died, that he might reconcile all men to God; that he made himself alive again; that, although men have destroyed themselves before God, whosoever knows the meaning of the name of Jesus, and fears for his own soul, and prays, he shall find mercy, and be brought near to God. That is the Name. And he is the Saviour of men, and so will be your Saviour also, I said.
“Then one of them in a frightened way answered me: ‘I supposed you were a Dakota, of those who live in cabins. It is not proper that you should say these things. As for me, I do not wantthem. Those who wish may follow in that way; but I will not. You who hold such things should stay at home. What do you come here for?’
“Walking-nest then said: ‘You are Cloudman’s son, I suppose, and so you are my cousin. Cousin, when we first came to this country there was a white minister who talked to us and said: “Your hands are full of blood; therefore, when your hands become white, we will teach you.” So he said, and when you brought a book from the south, while they were looking at it, blood dropped from above upon it; and behold, as the white minister said, I conclude we are not yet good. Therefore, my cousin, I am not pleased with your coming,’ he said.
“But there were only two men who talked in this way. We left them and visited every house in the camp. Many may have felt as those men did, but did not say it openly. The men said they were glad, and welcomed us into their tents.
“The next day I came into a sick man’s tent whose name was Hepan, lying near to death. I talked with him, and prayed to God for him. Then he told me how he longed to hear from his friends down south, and mentioned over half a dozen names of his relatives. A woman also, who was present, said: ‘I want to know if my friends are yet living.’
“Then we continued our visiting from house to house. Sometimes we found only children in the tent; sometimes there were men and women, and I prayed with them and told them a word of Jesus. So we came to the teepees in the valley. Then I met Iron Buffalo. There we spent the Sabbath, and held meeting, having twenty-three persons present. A chief man, whose name is War-club-maker, called them together.
“Our meetings there being finished, we departed and came to the Wahpaton village. They were making four sacred feasts. We did not go into them. But, visiting other houses, we passed on about five miles, when night came upon us. Still we went on to the end of the settlement, where we held a meeting. The teepee was small, but there I found a sick man who listened to the Word. This was Chaskay, the son of Taoyatedoota. He said he was going to die, and from what source he should hear any word of prayer, or any comforting word of God, was not manifest. But now he had heard these things, and was very glad, he said. This way was the best upon earth, and he believed in it now. So,while we remained there, he wanted us to pray with and for him, he said.
“We spent one day there, and the second day we started home, and came to Hunka’s tent, and so proceeded homeward. When we had reached the other end of the settlement, we learned that the white ministers were to hold a meeting of presbytery. They sent word to us to come, and so in the night, with my Hoonkayape, Mr. Enoch, I went back. They asked us to give an account of our missionary journey among the Dakotas. And so we told them where we had been and what we had done. Also, we gave an account of things at Middle Hill, where we live. When we had finished, they all clapped their hands. Then they said they wanted to hear us sing a hymn of praise to God in Dakota. We sang ‘Wakantanka Towaste,’ and at the close they clapped their hands again.
“Then two men arose, one after the other. The first said: ‘I have not expected to see such things so soon among the Dakotas. But now I see great things, which I like very much.’ The other man spoke in the same way.
“Men and women had come together in their prayer-house, and so there was a large assembly.
“Then the minister of that church arose and said: ‘White people, who have grown up hearing of this way of salvation, are expected to believe in it, and I have been accustomed to rejoice in the multiplication of the Christian church; but I rejoice more over this work among the Dakotas.’”
Both of these men came home to watch and wait by the sick-bed of dear children. Nancy Maza-chankoo-win,—Iron Road Woman,—the daughter of Henok, died April 28, 1879. She was thirteen years old, read the Dakota Bible well, and was quite a singer in the prayer assemblies. They say: “We all thought a great deal of her; but now she too has gone up to sing in the House of Jesus, because she was called.”
From Middle Hill, near Fort Ellice in Manitoba, comes a letter written on May 20 by our friend Solomon.He reportssevenmembers added by profession of faith to his church in April, and ten children baptized. There, as here, the season has been a sickly one, and many deaths have occurred. For three months he has had sickness in his own family. His story is pathetic. “Now,” he says, “my son Abraham is dead. Seven years ago, at Long Hollow, in the country of the Coteau des Prairies, he was born on January 12, 1872. And on the 23d of June following, at a communion season at Good Will Church, he was baptized. When Mr. Riggs poured the water on him, he was called Abraham. And then in the country of the north, from Middle Hill, May 9, 1879, on that day, his soul was carried home to the House of Jesus.
“Five months after he was born, I wanted to have him baptized. I always remember the thought I had about it. Soon after a child is born, it is proper to have it baptized. I believed that baptism alone was not to be trusted in, and when one is baptized now it is finished is not thinkable. But in Luke 18:16, our Lord Jesus says: ‘Suffer the little children to come unto me’; and so taking them to Jesus is good, since his heart is set on permitting them to come. Therefore, I wanted this my son to go to Jesus.
“And so from the time he could hear me speak, I have endeavored to train him up in all gentleness and obedience, in truth and in peace. Now, for two years in this country he has been my little helper. When some could not say their letters, he taught them. He also taught them to pray. And when any were told to repeat the commandments, and were ashamed to do so, he repeated them first, for he remembered them all. Hence, I was very much attached to him. But this lastwinter he was taken sick, and from the first it seemed that he would not get well. But while he lived it was possible to help him, and so we did to the extent of our ability. He failed gradually. He was a long time sick. But he was not afraid to die. He often prayed. When he was dying, but quite conscious of everything that took place, then he prayed, and we listened. He repeated the prayer of the Lord Jesus audibly to the end. That was the last voice we heard from him. Perhaps when our time comes, and they come for us to climb up to the hill of the mountain of Jehovah, then we think we shall hear his new voice. Therefore, although we are sad, we do not cry immoderately.”
That was a beautiful child-life, and a beautiful child-death. Who shall say there are not now Dakota children in heaven? To have been the means, under God, of opening in this desert such a well of faith and salvation is quite a sufficient reward for a lifetime of work.
S. R. R.
The father of the Dakota Mission has gone. Thomas Smith Williamson died at his residence in St. Peter, Minn., on Tuesday, the 24th of June, 1879, in theeightiethyear of his life. My own acquaintance with this life-long friend and companion in work commenced when I was yet a boy, just fifty years ago in July. We were new-comers in the town of Ripley, Ohio, where Dr. Williamson was then a practising physician of some five years’ standing. My mother was taken sick and died. In her sick-chamber our acquaintance commenced, which has continued unbroken for half a century.
The silver wedding of the Dakota Mission was celebrated at Hazelwood, in the summer of 1860. Dr. Williamson himself furnished a sketch of his life and ancestry for that occasion which has never been published. From this document, as well as from articles written by his son, Prof. Andrew Woods Williamson, and published in theSt. Peter Tribuneand theHerald and Presbyter, much of this life-sketch will be taken.
Thomas Smith Williamson, M.D., was the son of Rev. William Williamson and Mary Smith, and was born in Union District, South Carolina, in March, 1800.
William Williamson commenced classical studies when quite young; but the school he attended was broken up by the appointment of the teacher as an officer in theRevolutionary army. When about sixteen years of age, while on a visit to an uncle’s on the head-waters of the Kanawha, in Virginia, several families in the neighborhood were taken captive by the Indians, and he joined a company of volunteers which was raised to go in pursuit. After more than a week’s chase, they were entirely successful, and lost only one of their own number.
When not yet eighteen years old, he was drafted into the North Carolina militia, and accompanied Gates in his unfortunate expedition through the Carolinas. After the war was over and the family had removed to South Carolina, William resumed his studies and was graduated at Hampton Sidney College—studied theology, and was ordained pastor of Fair Forest Church, in April, 1793.
The grandfather of Thomas Smith Williamson was Thomas Williamson, and his grandmother’s maiden name was Ann Newton, a distant relative of Sir Isaac and Rev. John Newton. They were both raised in Pennsylvania, but removed first to Virginia and then to the Carolinas, where they became the owners of slaves, the most of whom were purchased at their own request to keep them from falling into the hands of hard masters.
Thus Rev. William Williamson was born into the condition of slaveholder. By both his first and second marriage also, he became the owner of others, which, by the laws of South Carolina, would have been the property of his children. For the purpose of giving them their liberty, he removed, in 1805, from South Carolina to Adams County, Ohio. Before her marriage, Mary Smith had taught a number of the young negroes to read. And of their descendants quite a number arenow in Ohio. It should be remembered that the Smiths and Williamsons of the eighteenth century thought it right, under the circumstances in which they were,to buy and hold slaves, but not right to sell them. They never sold any.
Thomas Smith Williamson inherited from his father a love for the study of God’s Word, and a practical sympathy for the down-trodden and oppressed, which were ever the distinguishing characteristics of his life. He was also blessed with a godly mother and with five earnest-working Christian sisters, four of whom were older than himself. He was converted during his stay at Jefferson College, Cannonsburg, Pa., where he graduated in 1820. Soon after, he began reading medicine with his brother-in-law, Dr. William Wilson of West Union, Ohio, and, after a very full course of reading, considerable practical experience, and one course of lectures at Cincinnati, Ohio, completed his medical education at Yale, where he graduated in medicine in 1824. He settled at Ripley, Ohio, where he soon acquired an extensive practice, and April 10, 1827, was united in marriage with Margaret Poage, daughter of Col. James Poage, proprietor of the town. Perhaps no man was ever more blessed with a helpmeet more adapted to his wants than this lovely, quiet, systematic, cheerful, Christian wife, who for forty-five years of perfect harmony encouraged him in his labors.
They thought themselves happily settled for life in their pleasant home, but God had better things in store for them. His Spirit began whispering in their ears the Macedonian cry. At first, they excused themselves on account of their little ones. They felt they could not take them among the Indians, that they owed a duty tothem. They hesitated. God removed this obstacle in his own way—by taking the little ones home to himself. As this was a great trial, so was it a great blessing to these parents. This was one of God’s means of so strengthening their faith that, having once decided to go, neither of them ever after for one moment regretted the decision, doubted that they were called of God to this work, or feared that their life-work would prove a failure.
In the spring of 1833, Dr. Williamson placed himself under the care of the Chillicothe Presbytery, and commenced the study of theology. In August of that year he removed with his family to Walnut Hills, and connected himself with Lane Seminary. In April, 1834, in the First Presbyterian Church of Red Oak, he was licensed to preach by the Chillicothe Presbytery.
Previous to his licensure, he had received from the American Board an appointment to proceed on an exploring tour among the Indians of the Upper Mississippi, with special reference to the Sacs and Foxes, but to collect what information he could in regard to the Sioux, Winnebagoes, and other Indians. Starting on this tour about the last of April, he went as far as Fort Snelling, and returned to Ohio in August. At Rock Island he met with some of the Sacs and Foxes, and at Prairie du Chien he first saw Dakotas, among others Mr. Joseph Renville of Lac-qui-parle. On the 18th of September he was ordained as a missionary by the Chillicothe Presbytery, in Union Church, Ross County, Ohio.
A few months afterward he received his appointment as a missionary of the A. B. C. F. M. to the Dakotas; and on the first day of April, 1835, Dr. Williamson,with his wife and one child, accompanied by Miss Sarah Poage, Mrs. Williamson’s sister, who afterward became Mrs. Gideon H. Pond, and Alexander G. Huggins and family, left Ripley, Ohio, and on the 16th of May they arrived at Fort Snelling. At this time, the only white people in Minnesota, then a part of the North-west Territory, were those connected with the military post at Fort Snelling, the only post-office within the present limits of the State; those connected with the fur-trade, except Hon. H. H. Sibley, were chiefly Canadian French, ignorant of the English language; and Messrs. Gideon H. and Samuel W. Pond, who came on their own account as lay teachers of Christ to the Indians in 1834.
While stopping there for a few weeks, Dr. Williamson presided at the organization, on the 12th of June, of the First Presbyterian Church—the first Christian church organized within the present limits of Minnesota. This was within the garrison at Fort Snelling, and consisted of twenty-two members, chiefly the result of the labors of Major Loomis among the soldiers.
Having concluded to accompany Mr. Joseph Renville, Dr. Williamson’s party embarked on the fur company’s Mackinaw boat on the 22d of June; reached Traverse des Sioux on the 30th, where they took wagons and arrived at Lac-qui-parle on the 9th of July. There, on the north side of the Minnesota River, and in sight of the “Lake that speaks,” they established themselves as teachers of the religion of Jesus.
Of the “Life and Labors” pressed into the next forty-four years, only the most meager outline can be given in this article. It is now almost two round centuries since Hennepin and Du Luth met in the camps and villages of the Sioux on the Upper Mississippi. Then,as since, they were recognized as the largest and most warlike tribe of Indians on the continent. Until Dr. Williamson and his associates went among them, there does not appear to have been any effort made to civilize and Christianize them. With the exception of a few hundred words gathered by army officers and others, the Dakota language was unwritten. This was to be learned—mastered, which was found to be no small undertaking, especially to one who had attained the age of thirty-five years. While men of less energy and pluck would have knocked off or been content to work as best they could through an interpreter, Dr. Williamson persevered, and in less than two years was preaching Christ to them in the language in which they were born. He never spoke it easily nor just like an Indian, but he was readily understood by those who were accustomed to hear him.
It was by a divine guidance that the station at Lac-qui-parle was commenced. The Indians there were very poor in this world’s good, not more than a half-dozen horses being owned in a village of 400 people. They were far in the interior, and received no annuities from the government. Thus they were in a condition to be helped in many ways by the mission. Under its influence and by its help, their corn-patches were enlarged and their agriculture improved. Dr. Williamson also found abundant opportunities to practise medicine among them. Not that they gave up their pow-wows and conjuring; but many families were found quite willing that the white Pay-zhe-hoo-ta-we-chash-ta (Grass Root Man) should try his skill with the rest. For more than a quarter of a century his medical aid went hand in hand with the preaching of the Gospel. By the helpfulness of the mission in various ways, a certain amount of confidence was secured. Andthrough the influence of Mr. Renville, a few men, but especially the women, gathered to hear the good news of salvation.
Here they were rejoiced to see the Word taking effect early. In less than a year after their arrival, Dr. Williamson organized a native church, which, in the autumn of 1837, when I joined the mission force at Lac-qui-parle, counted seven Dakotas. Five years after the number received from the beginning had been forty-nine. This was a very successful commencement.
But in the meantime the war-prophets and the so-called medicine-men were becoming suspicious of the new religion. They began to understand that the religion of Christ antagonized their own ancestral faith, and so they organized opposition. The children were forbidden to attend the mission school; Dakota soldiers were stationed along the paths, and the women’s blankets were cut up when they attempted to go to church. Year after year the mission cattle were killed and eaten. At one time, Dr. Williamson was under the necessity of hitching up milch-cows to haul his wood—the only animals left him.
These were dark, discouraging years—very trying to the native church members, as well as to the missionaries. As I look back upon them, I can but admire the indomitable courage and perseverance of Dr. Williamson. My own heart would, I think, have sometimes failed me if it had not been for the “hold on and hold out unto the end” of my earthly friend.
As Mr. Renville could only interpret between the Dakotas and French, Dr. Williamson applied himself to learning the latter language. Through this a beginning was made in the translation of the Scriptures into theDakota. Late in the fall of 1839 the Gospel of Mark and some other small portions were ready to be printed, and Dr. Williamson went with his family to Ohio, where he spent the winter. The next printing of portions of the Bible was done in 1842-43, when Dr. Williamson had completed a translation of the book of Genesis. We had now commenced to translate from the Hebrew and Greek. This was continued through all the years of his missionary life. So far as I can remember, there was no arrangement of work between the doctor and myself, but while I commenced the New Testament, and, having completed that, turned to the Psalms, and, having finished to the end of Malachi, made some steps backward through Job, Esther, Nehemiah, and Ezra, he, commencing with Genesis, closed his work, in the last months of his life, with Second Chronicles, having taken in also the book of Proverbs.
Before leaving the subject of Bible translation, let me bear testimony to the uniform kindness and courtesy which Dr. Williamson extended to me, through all this work of more than forty years. It could hardly be said of either of us that we were very yielding. The doctor was a man of positive opinions, and there were abundant opportunities in prosecuting our joint work for differences of judgment. But, while we freely criticised each the other’s work, we freely yielded to each other the right of ultimate decision.
In the autumn of 1846, Dr. Williamson received an invitation, through the agent at Fort Snelling, to establish a mission at Little Crow’s Village, a few miles below where St. Paul has grown up, and he at once accepted it, gathering from it that the Lord had a work for him to do there. And indeed he had. During the five or six yearshe remained there, a small Dakota church was gathered, and an opportunity was afforded him to exert a positive Christian influence on the white people then gathering into the capital of Minnesota. Dr. Williamson preached the first sermon there.
When, after the treaties of 1851, the Indians of the Mississippi were removed, he removed with them—or, rather, went before them, and commenced his last station at Pay-zhe-hoo-ta-zee, Yellow Medicine. There he and his family had further opportunities “to glory in tribulations.” The first winter was one of unusual severity, and they came near starving. But here the Lord blessed them, and permitted them to see a native church grow up, as well as at Hazelwood, the other mission station near by. It was during the next ten years that the seeds of civilization and Christianity took root, and grew into a fruitage, which, in some good manner, bore up under the storm of the outbreak in 1862, and resulted in a great harvest afterward.
Twenty-seven years of labor among the Dakotas were past. The results had been encouraging—gratifying. Dr. Williamson’s eldest son, Rev. John P. Williamson, born into the missionary kingdom, had recently come from Lane Seminary, and joined our missionary forces. But suddenly our work seemed to be dashed in pieces. The whirlwind of the outbreak swept over our mission. Our houses and churches were burned with fire. The members of our native churches—where were they? Would there ever be a gathering again? But nothing could discourage Dr. Williamson, for he trusted not in an arm of flesh, but in the all-powerful arm of God. He found that he at least had the consolation of knowing that all the Christian Indians had continued, at the riskof their own lives, steadfast friends of the whites, that they had succeeded in saving more than their own number of white people, and that those of them who were unjustly imprisoned spent much of the time in laboring for the conversion of the heathen imprisoned with them.
It required just such a political and moral revolution as this to break the bonds of heathenism, in which these Dakotas were held. It seems also to have required the manifest endurance of privations, and the unselfish devotion of Dr. Williamson and others to them in this time of trouble, to fully satisfy their suspicious hearts that we did not seektheirsbutthem. The winter of 1862-63, Dr. Williamson, having located his family at St. Peter, usually walked up every Saturday to Mankato, to preach the Gospel to the 400 men in prison. “That,” said a young man, “satisfied us that you were really our friends.” Sometimes it seems strange that it required so much to convince them! History scarcely furnishes a more remarkable instance of divine power on human hearts than was witnessed in that prison. For a particular account of this the reader is referred to the monograph on Rev. G. H. Pond.
Ever since the outbreak, Dr. Williamson has made a home for his family in the town of St. Peter and its vicinity. For two years of the three in which the condemned Dakotas were imprisoned at Davenport, Iowa, he gave his time and strength chiefly to ministering to their spiritual needs. Education never progressed so rapidly among them as during these years. They almost all learned to read and write their own language; and spent much of their time in singing hymns of praise, in prayer, and in reading the Bible. They were enrolled in classes,and each class placed under the special teaching of an elder. This gave them something like a Methodist organization, but it was found essential to a proper watch and care. This experience in the prison and elsewhere made it more and more manifest that, to carry forward the work of evangelization among this people, we must make large use of our native talent.
The original Dakota presbytery was organized at Lac-qui-parle in the first days of October, 1844. Dr. Williamson and myself brought our letters from the presbytery of Ripley, Ohio, and Samuel W. Pond brought his from an Association in Connecticut. The bounds of this presbytery were not accurately defined, and so for years it absorbed all the ministers of the Gospel of the Presbyterian and Congregational orders who came into the Minnesota country. By and by the presbyteries of St. Paul and Minnesota were organized; but the Dakota presbytery still covered the country of the Minnesota River.
At a meeting of this presbytery at Mankato in the spring of 1865, when our first Dakota preacher, Rev. John B. Renville, was licensed, an incident took place which illustrates the meekness and magnanimity of Dr. Williamson’s character. On its own adjournment the presbytery had convened and was opened with a sermon by Dr. Williamson, in the evening, in the Presbyterian church. He took occasion to present the subject of our duties to the down-trodden races, the African and the Indian. Doubtless some who heard the discourse did not approve of it. But no exceptions would have been taken if the Jewett family, out a few miles from the town, had not been killed that night by a Sioux war-party. Men were so unreasonable as to claim that thepreaching and the preacher had some kind of casual relation with the killing. The next day, Mankato was in a ferment. An indignation meeting was held, and a committee of citizens was sent to the Presbyterian church to require Dr. Williamson to leave their town. Some of the members of the presbytery were indignant at this demand; but the good doctor chose to retire to his home at St. Peter, assuring the excited and unreasonable men of Mankato that he could have had no knowledge of the presence of the war-party, and certainly had no sympathy with their wicked work.
In years after this, I traveled hundreds of miles, often alone with Dr. Williamson, and while we conversed freely of all our experiences, and of the way God had led us, I do not remember that I ever heard him refer to this ill treatment of the people of Mankato. Like his Master, he had learned obedience by the things he suffered.
Never brilliant, he was yet, by his capacity for long-continued, severe exertion, and by systematic, persevering industry, enabled to accomplish an almost incredible amount of labor. His life was a grand one, made so by his indomitable perseverance in the line of lifting up the poor and those who had no helper.
From the beginning he had an unshaken faith in his work. He fully believed in the ability of the Indians to become civilized and Christianized. He had an equally strong and abiding faith in the power of the Gospel to elevate and save even them. Then add to these his personal conviction that God had, by special providences, called him to this work, and we have a threefold cord of faith, that was not easily broken.
No one who knew him ever doubted that Dr. Williamsonwas a true friend of the red man. And he succeeded wonderfully in making this impression upon the Indians themselves. They recognized, and, of late years, often spoke of, his life-long service for them. With a class of white men, this was the head and front of his offending, that, in their judgment, he could see only one side—that he was always the apologist of the Indians—that in the massacres of the border in 1862, when others believed and asserted that a thousand or fifteen hundred whites were killed, Dr. Williamson could only count three or four hundred. He was honest in his beliefs and honest in his apologies. He felt that necessity was laid upon him to “open his mouth for the dumb.” They could not defend themselves, and they have had very few defenders among white people.
In the summer of 1866, after the release of the Dakota prisoners at Davenport, Dr. Williamson and I took with us Rev. John B. Renville, and journeyed up through Minnesota and across Dakota to the Missouri River, and into the eastern corner of Nebraska. On our way, we spent some time at the head of the Coteau, preaching and administering the ordinances of the Gospel to our old church members, and gathering in a multitude of new converts, ordaining elders over them, and licensing two of the best qualified to preach the Gospel. When we reached the Niobrara, we found the Christians of the prison at Davenport and the Christians of the camp at Crow Creek now united; and they desired to be consolidated into one church of more than 400 members. We helped them to select their religious teachers, which they did from the men who had been in prison. So mightily had the Word of God prevailed among them that almost the entire adult community professedto be Christians. Rev. John P. Williamson was there in charge of the work.
For four successive summers, it was our privilege to travel together in this work of visiting and reconstructing these Dakota Christian communities. We also extended our visits to the villages of the wild Teeton Sioux along the Missouri River. Dr. Williamson claimed that Indians must be more honest than white people; for he always took with him an old trunk without lock or key, and in all these journeys he did not lose from a thread to a shoe-string.
For thirty-six years the doctor was a missionary of the American Board. But after the union of the assemblies, and the transfer of the funds contributed by the New School supporters of that board to the Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions, the question of a change of our relations was thoughtfully considered and fully discussed. He was too strong a Presbyterian not to have decided convictions on that subject. But there were, as we considered it, substantial reasons why we could not go over as an entire mission. And so we agreed to divide, Dr. Williamson and his son, Rev. John P. Williamson, transferring themselves to the Presbyterian Board, while my boys and myself remained as we were. The division made no disturbance in our mutual confidence, and no change in the methods of our common work. Rather have the bonds of our union been drawn more closely together, during the past eight years, by an annual conference of all our Dakota pastors and elders and Sabbath-school workers. This has gathered and again distributed the enthusiasm of the churches; and has become the director of the native missionary forces. With one exception, Dr. Williamson was able to attend all theseannual convocations, and added very much to their interest.
While the synod of Minnesota was holding its sessions in St. Paul in October, 1877, the good doctor was lying at the point of death, as was supposed, with pneumonia. Farewell words passed between him and the synod. But his work was not then done, and the Lord raised him up to complete it. At the next meeting of the synod, he presented a discourse on Rev. G. H. Pond; and during the winter following he finished his part of the Dakota Bible. Then his work appeared to be done, and he declined almost from that day onward.
On my way up to the land of the Dakotas, in the middle of May, 1879, I stopped over a day with my old friend. He was very feeble, but still able to walk out, and to sit up a good part of the day. We talked of many things. He then expressed the hope that as the warm weather came on he might rally, as he had done in former years. But the undertone was that, as the great work of giving the Bible to the Dakotas in their own language was completed, there was not much left for him to do here. He remarked that, during the last forty-four years, he had built several houses, all of which had either gone to pieces, or were looking old, and would not remain long after he was gone. But the building up of human souls that he had been permitted to work for, and which, by the grace of God, he had seen coming up into a new life, through the influence of the Word and the power of the Holy Ghost, he confidently believed wouldremain.
When I spoke of the near prospect of his dissolution to his Dakota friends, there arose in all the churches agreat prayer cryfor his recovery. This was reported tohim, and he sent back this message, by the hand of his son Andrew: “Tell the Indians that father thanks them very much for their prayers, and hopes they will be blessed both to his good and theirs. But he does not wish them to pray that his life here may be prolonged, for he longs to depart and be with Christ.” And the testimony of Rev. G. F. McAfee, pastor of the Presbyterian church in St. Peter, who often visited and prayed with him in his last days, is to the same effect: “He absolutely forbade me to pray that he might recover, but that he might depart in peace.”
And so his longing was answered. He died on Tuesday, June 24, 1879, in the morning watch.
He had no ecstasies, but he looked into the future world with a firm and abiding faith in Him whom, not having seen, he loved. Of his last days, John P. Williamson writes thus:—
“He seemed to be tired out in body and mind, with as much disinclination to talk as to move, and apparently as much from the labor of collecting his mind as the difficulty of articulation. I think he talked very little from the time I was here going home from General Assembly (June 1) till his death, and for some time was perhaps unconscious.“You may know that father had a special distaste for what are called death-bed experiences. Still, we thought that perhaps, at the last, when the bodily pains ceased, there might be a little lingering sunshine from the inner man, but such was not the case; and perhaps it was most fitting that he should die as he had lived, with no exalted feelings or bright imagery of the future, but a stern faith, which gives hope and peace in the deepest waters.”
“He seemed to be tired out in body and mind, with as much disinclination to talk as to move, and apparently as much from the labor of collecting his mind as the difficulty of articulation. I think he talked very little from the time I was here going home from General Assembly (June 1) till his death, and for some time was perhaps unconscious.
“You may know that father had a special distaste for what are called death-bed experiences. Still, we thought that perhaps, at the last, when the bodily pains ceased, there might be a little lingering sunshine from the inner man, but such was not the case; and perhaps it was most fitting that he should die as he had lived, with no exalted feelings or bright imagery of the future, but a stern faith, which gives hope and peace in the deepest waters.”
He lived to see among the Dakotas ten native ordained Presbyterian ministers and about 800 church members,besides a large number of Episcopalians, a success probably much beyond his early anticipations.
On the farther shore he has joined the multitude that have gone before. Of his own family there are the three who went up in infancy. Next, Smith Burgess, a manly Christian boy, was taken away very suddenly. Then Lizzie Hunter went in the prime of womanhood. The mother followed, a woman of quiet and beautiful life. And then the sainted Nannie went up to put on white robes. Besides these of his family, a multitude of Dakotas are there, who will call him father. I think they have gathered around him and sung, under the trees by the river, one of his first Dakota hymns:—
“Jehowa Mayooha, nimayakiye,Nitowashta iwadowan.”“Jehovah, my Master, thou hast saved me,I sing of thy goodness.”
“Jehowa Mayooha, nimayakiye,Nitowashta iwadowan.”
“Jehowa Mayooha, nimayakiye,
Nitowashta iwadowan.”
“Jehovah, my Master, thou hast saved me,I sing of thy goodness.”
“Jehovah, my Master, thou hast saved me,
I sing of thy goodness.”
My friend—my long-life friend—my companion in tribulation and in the patience of work, I almost envy thee thyfirsttranslation.
S. R. R.
ELIZA HUGGINS; NANNIE WILLIAMSON; JULIA LA FRAMBOISE.
ELIZA W. HUGGINS.
The Lord came to his garden, and gathered three fair flowers, which now bloom in the city of our God. We, who knew their beauty, come to lay our loving remembrances upon their graves.
Eliza Wilson Huggins was the third child of Alexander G. and Lydia Huggins. She was born March 7, 1837, and died June 22, 1873.
She early gave herself to Jesus, and her lovely life was like a strain of sacred music, albeit its years of suffering brought out chords of minor harmony.
This young girl, in the dawn of womanhood, with gentle step and loving voice, was a revelation to us who were younger than she. Huguenot blood ran swiftly in her veins, and grief and joy were keen realities to her sensitive soul. But she quieted herself as a child before the Lord, and he gave her the ornament which is without price. Though she wist not, her face shone, and we, remembering, know that she had been with Jesus.
Her sister, Mrs. Holtsclaw, writes: “We are of Huguenot descent on our father’s side. Our great-great-grandfather was born at sea in the flight from France to England.Two brothers (in that generation or the one following) came to America, one settling in North Carolina, the other in New England. Our grandfather left North Carolina when father was a small boy, because he thought slavery wrong, and did not wish his children exposed to its influences.
“Grandmother Huggins was a sister of Rev. James Gilliland of Red Oak, Ohio. She was a very earnest Christian, and often prayed that her descendants, to the latest generation, might be honest, humble followers of Jesus.
“Eliza was converted, and united with the church in Felicity, Ohio, under the pastorate of Rev. Smith Poage. She was, I think, about twelve years of age.”
She was a most loving daughter, sister, and friend, because she had given herself unreservedly to Him who yearns to be more than friend, mother, or brother to us all. When heavy bereavements came upon the family, Jesus kept their hearts from breaking. The dear father went the way of all the earth. Then a brother-in-law, who was a brother indeed; then the elder brother, tried and true, in an instant of time, speeds home to heaven; and again a younger brother, in his bright youth; these three were the family’s offering upon the altar of freedom. A costly offering! A heavy price paid! “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.”
For seven years Miss Huggins taught school as continuously as her health permitted. Her methods as a teacher were followed by peculiar success. She loved children, and had a most earnest desire to help them up to all that is best and wisest in life. Children know by instinct whose is the firm yet loving hand stretched out to lead them in the paths of pleasantness and peace.Some of this time she taught in the mission school. Her sister says:—
“I cannot write of her long sickness, her intense suffering, her patient waiting to see what the Lord had in store for her; all this is too painful for me. St. Anthony, where she first came with such bright hopes of finding health, was the place from which she went to her long rest. It was the place where she found cure.
“The Dakota text-book, which she and Nannie prepared, was a labor of much thought and prayer. It was not published until after she had gone home.”
Mignonette and sweet violets may well be emblem flowers for this lovely sister. Would that I might strew them on her grave, in the early summer-time, as a farewell till we meet again.
NANCY JANE WILLIAMSON.
BY M. R. M.
When an army marches on under fire, and one after another falls by the way, the ranks close up that there may ever be an unbroken front before the foe. So in life’s battle, as one by one drops out of the ranks, we who are left must needsmarch on. Yet, if we stop a little to think and talk of the ones gone, it may help us as we press forward. Then, to-day let us bring to mind something of the life of a sister departed.
Nannie J. Williamson was born at Lac-qui-parle, Minn., on the 28th of July, 1840. From her birth she was afflicted with disease of the spine, so that she wasalmost two years old before she walked at all, and then her ankles bent and had to be bound in splints. “Aunt Jane” mentions that Nannie was in her fourth year when she first saw her, and at that time, when the children went out to play, her brother John either carried her or drew her in a little wagon, to save her the fatigue of walking. So she must have truly borne the yoke in her youth. That the burden was not lifted as the years went by, we may judge from the facts that when away at school, both in Galesburg, Ill., and Oxford, Ohio, she was under the care of a physician; and she almost always studied her lessons lying on her back.
Though her days were stretched out to her 38th year, her body never fully ripened into womanhood, and her heart never lost the sweetness and simplicity of the child. It was not so with her mind. Overleaping the body, with a firm and strong grasp, it took up every object of thought, and filled its storehouse of knowledge.
“The date of her conversion is not known. She loved Jesus from a child.”
In the fall of 1854 our family moved to within two miles of Dr. Williamson’s new station of Pay-zhe-hoo-ta-zee, or Yellow Medicine. From that time we were intimately associated, and many delightful memories are connected with those days. In September, 1857, Nannie went to the W. F. Seminary at Oxford, Ohio. She made many friends among her school-mates, and all respected her for her consistent character, her faithfulness in her studies, and her earnestness in seeking to bring others to Christ. One with more thankful humility never lived. She was always so very grateful for the least favor or kindness done her, and seemed ever to bear them in mind. She was exceedingly thoughtful for other people, neverseemed to think evil of any one, and never failed to find kindly excuses for one’s conduct if excuses were possible. After the burning of the seminary building, the senior class, of which Nannie was one, finished their studies in a house secured for that purpose. Then followed the sorrowful days of ’62, that broke up so many homes, ours among others. Some time after, Nannie wrote this: “It is a little more than a year since we left our dear old homes. I wonder if our paths will ever lie so near together again as they have in times past. Who can tell? But though we mayseemto be far apart, we trust we are journeying to the same place, and we shall meetthere.”
During the months that Nannie’s mother waited to be released from earthly suffering, the daughter spared none of her strength to do what she could for the faithful, patient mother. After there was nothing more to do on earth for that mother, then indeed Nannie felt the effects of the long strain on body and mind. Even then her nights were painful and unresting. But, after recruiting a little, she entered upon the work to which her thoughts had often turned, that of uplifting the Dakota women and children. In 1873, “she joined her brother, Rev. J. P. Williamson, in missionary labor, at Yankton agency, Dakota Territory, under the Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions, and continued in it until her death, November 18, 1877.”
“Her knowledge of the Scriptures was such that the minister scarcely needed any other concordance when she was by, and during her last illness every conversation was accompanied with Scripture quotations.
“Notwithstanding her physical weakness, she taught school and did much other work; and, as all was consecratedto the Lord, we are sure she has much fruit in glory. Many in the Sabbath-schools of Traverse and St. Peter received lessons from her, whose impression will last to eternity.”
In the spring of 1876, she went to Ohio on the occasion of a reunion of the first five graduating classes of the W. F. Seminary, Oxford, Ohio. She desired with great desire to meet her class-mates, and the beloved principal, Miss Helen Peabody; and also to visit relatives, among them two aged aunts, one of whom crossed over to the other side a little before her. She took great delight in her visit, and yet her nights were wearisome, and she was probably not entirely comfortable at any time. But she did not complain.
On her last visit home her face bore the impress of great suffering. It was with difficulty she could raise either hand to her head, and could only sleep with her arms supported on pillows. They would fain have kept her at home, but she longed to do what she could as long as she could. So she went back, taught in the school, visited the sick, read from the Bible in the tents, and prayed. In her last illness some of these women came and prayed with her, and so comforted her greatly. She did not forget her brother’s children, in her anxiety for the heathen around them, and they will long remember Aunt Nannie’s prayerful instructions.
With so little strength as she had, it was not strange that, when fever prostrated her, she could not rally again. So she lay for nearly eight weeks, suffering much, but trusting much also. At times she hoped to be able to work again for the women, if the Lord willed. But when she knew that her earthly life was nearly ended, she sent this message to her aunt: “Do not grieve, dear aunt,Though I had desired to do much for these women and girls, the prospect of heaven is very sweet.” For a while she had said now and then: “I wonder how long I shall have to lie here and wait,” but one day she remarked, “I do not feel at all troubled now about how long I may have to wait: Jesus has taken that all away.” When any one came in to see her, she said a few words, and as the school children were gathered around her one day she talked to them a little while for the last time. Two days before her death, she dictated a letter to her father, who had himself been very near death’s door, but was recovering: “I do rejoice that God has restored you to health again. I trust that years of usefulness and happiness may still be yours. I am gaining both in appetite and strength. I feel a good deal better.” But the night that followed was a sleepless one, and the next day she suffered greatly. About dark her brother said to her, “You have suffered a great deal to-day.” She answered, “Yes, but the worst is over now.” He said, “Jesus will send for you,” and she replied, “Yes, I think he will, for he says, ‘I will that they also, whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am.’”
She spoke now and then to different ones, a word or two, asked them to read some Scripture texts from the “Silent Comforter” that hung where she could always see it, wanted it to be turned over, and, with her face to the wall, she seemed to go to sleep. She so continued through the night, her breath growing fainter and fainter. And at day-break on the morning of the Sabbath the other life began. “That is the substance, this the shadow; that the reality, this the dream.”
JULIA LA FRAMBOISE.
Julia A. La Framboise was the daughter of a French trader and of a Dakota mother. When nine years of age, her father placed her in Mr. Huggins’ family. In that Christian home she learned to love her Saviour, and, one year later, covenanted forever to be his. Her father was a Catholic, and would have preferred that his daughter remain in that church, but allowed her to choose for herself. His affection for her and hers for him was very strong.
After her father’s death, Julia determined to use her property in obtaining an education. She spent two years in the mission school at Hazelwood, then going to the W. F. Seminary, Oxford, Ohio, and for a short time to Painesville, Ohio, and afterward to Rockford, Ill. Having taken a full course of study there, she returned to Minnesota as a teacher.
Our mother had a warm affection for Julia, as indeed for each of the others of whom we write. Julia called our house one of her homes, and, whenever with us, she took a daughter’s share in the love and labor of the household.
A story of my mother’s childhood illustrates the spirit of benevolence by which she influenced Miss La Framboise among others. Her surviving sister, Mrs. Lucretia S. Cooley, writes:—
“When the first missionaries from the vicinity of my early home, Mr. and Mrs. Richards of Plainfield, went to the Sandwich Islands, sister Mary was a little girl. She was deeply impressed by the story of the wants of the children, as portrayed by Mr. Richards, and expressed astrong desire to accompany him. She had just learned to sew quite nicely. Looking up to mother, she said, ‘I could teach the little girls to sew.’ Here was the missionary spirit. Those who go to the Indians, to the islands of the sea, to Africa, must needs be ready to teach all things, doing it as to the Lord.”
When the call to teach among her own people came, Miss La Framboise gladly embraced the opportunity, laboring for them in season and out of season for two short years. Her health failing, she was taken to her old home in Minnesota, where she died, September 20, 1871, but twenty-eight years of age.
Mrs. Holtsclaw, one of her girlhood friends, went to her in that last sickness. She wrote: “I was with her when she died. It was beautiful to see the steady care and gentle devotion of her step-mother, of the rest of the family, and of the neighbors.”
Miss La Framboise was thoroughly educated, thoroughly the lady; always loyal to her people, even when they were most hated and despised; always generous in her deeds and words; always to be depended upon.
Oh, could we but have kept her to work many years for the ennobling and Christianizing of the Dakotas!
Bring lilies of the prairie for this grand-daughter of a chieftain—ay, more, this daughter of the King!
I. R. W.
Eighteen years had gone by since the family were all together on mission ground. That was in the summer of 1861. In the summer of 1858, Alfred had graduated at Knox College, Illinois; and Isabella returned with him from the Western Female Seminary, Ohio. They gladly arrived at home, in borrowed clothes, having trod together “the burning deck” of a Mississippi River steamboat. All were together then. That fall, Martha went to the Western Female Seminary, and was there when the school building was burned in 1860. After that she came home, and Isabella went back to graduate. In the meantime, Alfred had become a member of the Theological Seminary of Chicago. And so it happened that all were not at home again together until the summer of 1861. Then came the Sioux outbreak, and the breaking-up of the mission home. Though a new home was made at St. Anthony, and then at Beloit, it never came to pass that all were together at any one time.
Then new home centres grew up. Alfred was married in June, 1863. Isabella was married in February, 1866, and very soon sailed for China. Martha was married in December of the same year, and went to live in Minnesota. The dear mother went to the Upper Home in March, 1869. Alfred moved to the mission field at Santee Agency, Nebraska, in June, 1870. Anna was marriedin October of the same year and moved to Iowa. While Martha, the same autumn, removed to open the Missionary Home at the Sisseton Agency. In May, 1872, a new mother came in, to keep the hearthstone bright at the Beloit home. In February of 1872, Thomas went to Fort Sully to commence a new station, and was married in December of the same year. Meanwhile Henry, Robert, and Cornelia were growing up to manhood and womanhood, and getting their education by books and hard knocks. Henry was married in September, 1878, and Robert was tutor in Beloit College, and Cornelia a teacher in the Beloit city schools.
At these new home centers children had been growing up. At Kalgan, China, there weresix; at Santee, Neb.,five; at Sisseton, D. T.,four; at Vinton, Iowa,three, and at Fort Sully, D. T.,one. Another sister had also come at the Beloit home.
And now the Chinese cousins were coming home to the America they had never seen. So it was determined that on their arrival there should be a family meeting. But where should it be? Every home was open and urged its advantages. But Santee Agency, Nebraska, united more of the requisite conditions of central position and roomy accommodations. And, besides, it was eminently fitting that the meeting should be held on missionary ground. And so from early in July on to September the clan was gathering.
First came Rev. Mark Williams and Isabella, with their six children, fresh from China, finding the Santee Indian reservation the best place to become acclimated to America gradually. Father Riggs and Martha Riggs Morris, with three of her children, from Sisseton Agency, arrived the 18th of August. On the 27th came Anna RiggsWarner, with her three children, from Vinton, Iowa. Mother Riggs with little Edna arrived on the 29th, from Beloit, Wis. Mr. Wyllys K. Morris and Harry, their eldest son, came across the country by wagon, and drove in Saturday evening, the 30th of August. Thomas L. Riggs and little Theodore, with Robert B. Riggs, and Mary Cornelia Octavia Riggs, and their caravan, did not arrive from Fort Sully until Tuesday afternoon of the 2d of September. Alfred L. and Mary B. Riggs, and Henry M. and Lucy D. Riggs were of course already there, as they were at home, and the entertainers of the gathering.
Now the family were gathered, and this is theRoll:—
Stephen Return Riggs, born in Steubenville, Ohio, March 23, 1812; married, February 16, 1837, to Mary Ann Longley, who was born November 10, 1813, in Hawley, Mass., and died March 22, 1869, in Beloit, Wis.
I. Alfred Longley Riggs, born at Lac-qui-parle, Minn., December 6, 1837; married June 9, 1863, to Mary Buel Hatch, who was born May 20, 1840, at Leroy, N. Y.
Children: Frederick Bartlett, born at Lockport, Ill., July 14, 1865; Cora Isabella, born at Centre, Wis., August 19, 1868; Mabel, born at Santee Agency, Nebraska, September 11, 1874; Olive Ward, born at Santee Agency, Nebraska, June 13, 1876; Stephen Williamson, born at Santee Agency, Nebraska, April 28, 1878.
II. Isabella Burgess Riggs, born at Lac-qui-parle, Minn., February 21, 1840; married February 21, 1866, to Rev. W. Mark Williams, who was born October 28, 1834, in New London, Ohio.
Children: Henrietta Blodget, born at Kalgan, China, September 25, 1867; Stephen Riggs, born at Kalgan, China, August 22, 1870; Emily Diament, born at Kalgan,China, May 26, 1873; Mary Eliza, born at Kalgan, China, August 3, 1875; Margaret and Anna, born at Kalgan, China, May 30, 1878.
III. Martha Taylor Riggs, born at Lac-qui-parle, Minn., January 27, 1842; married December 18, 1866, to Wyllys King Morris, who was born in Hartford, Conn., September 11, 1842.
Children: Henry Stephen, born at Sterling, Minn., June 21, 1868; Philip Alfred, born at Good Will, D. T., August 4, 1872, and died at Binghamton, N. Y., August 18, 1873; Mary Theodora, born at Good Will, D. T., July 31, 1874; Charles Riggs, born at Good Will, D. T., June 21, 1877; Nina Margaret Foster, born at Good Will, D. T., May 30, 1879.
IV. Anna Jane Riggs, born at Traverse des Sioux, Minn., April 13, 1845; married October 14, 1870, to Horace Everett Warner, who was born January 10, 1839, near Painesville, Ohio.
Children: Marjorie, born at Belle Plaine, Iowa, September 29, 1872; Arthur Hallam, born in Vinton, Iowa, October 28, 1875; Everett Longley, born in Vinton, Iowa, July 15, 1877.
V. Thomas Lawrence Riggs, born at Lac-qui-parle, Minn., June 3, 1847; married December 26, 1872, to Cornelia Margaret Foster, who was born in Bangor, Me., March 19, 1848, and died August 5, 1878, at Fort Sully, D. T.
Child: Theodore Foster, born near Fort Sully, D. T., July 7, 1874.
VI. Henry Martyn Riggs, born at Lac-qui-parle, Minn., September 25, 1849; married September 24, 1878, to Lucy M. Dodge, who was born at Grafton, Mass., February 29, 1852.
VII. Robert Baird Riggs, born at Hazelwood, Minn., May 22, 1855.
VIII. Mary Cornelia Octavia Riggs, born at Hazelwood, Minn., February 17, 1859.
Stephen R. Riggs married, May 28, 1872, Mrs. Annie Baker Ackley, who was born March 14, 1835, in Granville, Ohio.
IX. Edna Baker Riggs, born at Beloit, Wis., December 2, 1874.
The sons and daughters brought into the original family by marriage contributed much to the success of the reunion. The cousins will not soon forget the inimitable stories of Uncle Mark. Horace E. Warner wrote a charming letter, proving conclusively that he was really present; while Uncle Wyllys must have gained the perpetual remembrance of the boys by taking them swimming. Mary Hatch Riggs was the unflagging main-spring of the whole meeting. Lucy Dodge Riggs presided hospitably at the “Young men’s hall,” where many of the guests were entertained; and the new mother, Annie Baker Riggs, won the love of all.
It would not have been a perfect meeting without seeing the face of John P. Williamson, the elder brother of the mission. Then, too, there was our friend Rev. Joseph Ward, whose home at Yankton has so often been the “House Beautiful” to our missionary pilgrims. We were also favored with the presence of many of our missionary women: Mrs. Hall of Fort Berthold, Misses Collins and Irvine, from Fort Sully, and Misses Shepard, Paddock, Webb, and Skea, of Santee. The children will long remember the party given them by Miss Shepard in the Dakota Home, and the picnic on the hill.
It is impossible to give any adequate report of such areunion. The renewal of acquaintance, taking the bearings of one another’s whereabouts in mental and spiritual advance, is more through chit-chat and incidental revelations than in any of the things that can be told.
And so we gather in as memorials and reminders some of the papers read at the evening sociables, and some paragraphs from reports of the reunion published in theWord CarrierandAdvance. First, we will have Isabella’s paper, the story of that long journey home—By Land and by Sea:—
“Ding lang, ding lang, ding lang! Hear the bells. The litters are packed, the good-bys spoken. Thirteen years of work in sorrow and in joy are over. ‘Good-by. We will pray for you all; do not forget us.’“Down the narrow street, past the closely crowded houses of more crowded inmates, beyond the pale green of the gardens, on the stony plain, and our long journey is begun.“Eight hours and the first inn is reached, we having made a twenty-five-mile stage. Over rocks and river, fertile lake-bed; desert plain, and through mountain-gorge, we creep our way, till, on the fifth day, the massive walls of Peking loom up before us.“Here there are cordial greetings from warm hearts, and willing hands stretched out to help. Best of all is the inspiration of mission meeting, with its glad, good news from Shantung Province.“By cart and by canal boat again away. At Tientsin we ride by starlight, in jinrickshas, to the steamer. How huge the monster! How broad seems the river, covered here and yonder, and again yonder, with fleets of boats!“We ensconce ourselves in the assigned state-rooms, and little Anna’s foster-mother keeps a vigil by the child so soon to be hers no more. ‘Farewell, farewell.’“Gray morning comes, and the ponderous engine begins his work. We move past boats, ships, steamers, past the fort at Taku, out on the open sea. No one sings, ‘A Life on the Ocean Wave,’ or ‘Murmuring Sea,’ for our ‘day of youth went yesterday.’ The enthusiasm of early years is gone. Instead, I read reverently the 107th Psalm, verses 23, 31. Then with the strong,glad, spray-laden breeze on one’s face, it is fitting to read, ‘The Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, than the mighty waves of the sea.’ ‘Let the sea roar, and the fullness thereof. Let the floods clap their hands ... before the Lord.’ ‘The sea is his and he made it.’ ‘The earth is full of thy riches. So is this great and wide sea. There go the ships: there is that leviathan, whom thou hast made to play therein.’“Five days, and we steam up through the low, flat, fertile shores of Woo Sung River to Shanghai.“Ho for the land of the rising sun! Two days we sail over a silver sea; yonder is Nagasaki, and now a heavy rain reminds us that this is Japan. On through the Inland Sea. How surpassingly beautiful are the green hills and mountains on every side.“At Kobe we receive a delightful welcome from Mr. C. H. Gulick’s family, and on the morrow we meet our former co-laborer in the Kalgan work, Rev. J. T. Gulick. Ten days of rest, and our little Anna is herself again. She is round and fair and sweet, and every one laughingly says she is more like our hostess than like me.“Again away, in a floating palace, fitly named City of Tokio. We glide out of sight of Japan, with hearts strangely stirred by God’s work in that land.“One sail after another disappears, until we are alone on the great ocean. Water, water, water everywhere.“Our days are all alike. Constant care of the children and thoughts of home and beloved ones keep hand and heart busy. The events of each day are breakfast, tiffin, and dinner, daintily prepared, and faultlessly served by deft and noiseless waiters. We think it a pleasant variety when a stiff breeze makes the waves run high. The table racks are on, yet once and again a glass of water or a plate of soup goes over. We turn our plates at the proper angle, when the long roll begins, and unconcernedly go on.“One day of waves mountain high, which sweep us on to our desired haven. On the eighteenth day we see the shore of beautiful America. How the heart beats! So soon to see father, brothers, and sisters! Thank God. Aye, thank him too for the manifold mercies of our journey.“How strange and yet familiar are the sights and sounds of San Francisco. The children’s eyes shine as they plan and execute raids on a toy store.“There is yet the land journey of thousands of miles. By night and by day we speed on; across gorge, through tunnel and snow-shed, over the alkali plains, over fertile fields to Omaha.“At last we arrive in Yankton, and a cheery voice makes weary hearts glad. ‘I am Mr. Ward. Your brother Henry is here.’ Ah, is that Henry! How he has changed from boyhood to manhood!“‘Over the hills and far away.’ Here we are! How beautiful the mission houses look! And the dear familiar faces! Rest and home at last for a little while. ‘For here have we no continuing city, but we seek one to come.’”
“Ding lang, ding lang, ding lang! Hear the bells. The litters are packed, the good-bys spoken. Thirteen years of work in sorrow and in joy are over. ‘Good-by. We will pray for you all; do not forget us.’
“Down the narrow street, past the closely crowded houses of more crowded inmates, beyond the pale green of the gardens, on the stony plain, and our long journey is begun.
“Eight hours and the first inn is reached, we having made a twenty-five-mile stage. Over rocks and river, fertile lake-bed; desert plain, and through mountain-gorge, we creep our way, till, on the fifth day, the massive walls of Peking loom up before us.
“Here there are cordial greetings from warm hearts, and willing hands stretched out to help. Best of all is the inspiration of mission meeting, with its glad, good news from Shantung Province.
“By cart and by canal boat again away. At Tientsin we ride by starlight, in jinrickshas, to the steamer. How huge the monster! How broad seems the river, covered here and yonder, and again yonder, with fleets of boats!
“We ensconce ourselves in the assigned state-rooms, and little Anna’s foster-mother keeps a vigil by the child so soon to be hers no more. ‘Farewell, farewell.’
“Gray morning comes, and the ponderous engine begins his work. We move past boats, ships, steamers, past the fort at Taku, out on the open sea. No one sings, ‘A Life on the Ocean Wave,’ or ‘Murmuring Sea,’ for our ‘day of youth went yesterday.’ The enthusiasm of early years is gone. Instead, I read reverently the 107th Psalm, verses 23, 31. Then with the strong,glad, spray-laden breeze on one’s face, it is fitting to read, ‘The Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, than the mighty waves of the sea.’ ‘Let the sea roar, and the fullness thereof. Let the floods clap their hands ... before the Lord.’ ‘The sea is his and he made it.’ ‘The earth is full of thy riches. So is this great and wide sea. There go the ships: there is that leviathan, whom thou hast made to play therein.’
“Five days, and we steam up through the low, flat, fertile shores of Woo Sung River to Shanghai.
“Ho for the land of the rising sun! Two days we sail over a silver sea; yonder is Nagasaki, and now a heavy rain reminds us that this is Japan. On through the Inland Sea. How surpassingly beautiful are the green hills and mountains on every side.
“At Kobe we receive a delightful welcome from Mr. C. H. Gulick’s family, and on the morrow we meet our former co-laborer in the Kalgan work, Rev. J. T. Gulick. Ten days of rest, and our little Anna is herself again. She is round and fair and sweet, and every one laughingly says she is more like our hostess than like me.
“Again away, in a floating palace, fitly named City of Tokio. We glide out of sight of Japan, with hearts strangely stirred by God’s work in that land.
“One sail after another disappears, until we are alone on the great ocean. Water, water, water everywhere.
“Our days are all alike. Constant care of the children and thoughts of home and beloved ones keep hand and heart busy. The events of each day are breakfast, tiffin, and dinner, daintily prepared, and faultlessly served by deft and noiseless waiters. We think it a pleasant variety when a stiff breeze makes the waves run high. The table racks are on, yet once and again a glass of water or a plate of soup goes over. We turn our plates at the proper angle, when the long roll begins, and unconcernedly go on.
“One day of waves mountain high, which sweep us on to our desired haven. On the eighteenth day we see the shore of beautiful America. How the heart beats! So soon to see father, brothers, and sisters! Thank God. Aye, thank him too for the manifold mercies of our journey.
“How strange and yet familiar are the sights and sounds of San Francisco. The children’s eyes shine as they plan and execute raids on a toy store.
“There is yet the land journey of thousands of miles. By night and by day we speed on; across gorge, through tunnel and snow-shed, over the alkali plains, over fertile fields to Omaha.
“At last we arrive in Yankton, and a cheery voice makes weary hearts glad. ‘I am Mr. Ward. Your brother Henry is here.’ Ah, is that Henry! How he has changed from boyhood to manhood!
“‘Over the hills and far away.’ Here we are! How beautiful the mission houses look! And the dear familiar faces! Rest and home at last for a little while. ‘For here have we no continuing city, but we seek one to come.’”
But journeying may be done much more quickly by thought, and spirit may go as quick as thought. So here is the account of Horace E. Warner’s thought journey to the family meeting:—
“If there has seemed to be any lack of interest on my part in the family reunion, it is only in the seeming. For my decision to stay at home was made with deep regret, and after the slaying of much strong desire. But, aside from the gratification which it would have given me to see you all, and which I hope it would have given you to see me, I do not think the idea of the meeting is impaired by my absence. Only this—I feel as though I had, not wilfully nor willingly, but none the less certainly, cut myself off from that sympathy—in the Greek sense—which I stood in much need of, and can ill afford to miss.“I suppose you are now all together with one accord in one place, so far as that is possible. To bealltogether would require the union of two worlds. And this may be, too,—shall we not say it is so? But if the dear ones from the unseen world are present, though you can not hear their speech nor detect their presence by any of the senses, can not you feel that I am really with you in some sense too? Of course, the difference is great, but so also the difference is great between the meeting of friends in the natural body and the spiritual body. If the mind, the soul, constitutes the man rather than the animal substances, or the myriad cells which make up his physical organization, why may not I leap over the insignificant barrier that divides us? As I write,this feeling is very strong with me. It is vague and indefinite, but yet it seems to me that I have been having some kind of communication or communion with you. At all events, my heart goes out strongly toward you all with fervent desire that the meeting will be full of joy and comfort—of sweetest and spiritual growth—the occasion of new inspiration, new courage, new hopes. It is not likely that there can be any repetition of it this side of the ‘city which hath foundations.’“So the memories of this meeting should be the sweetest, and should cluster thick around you in the years of separation. This much I must perforce miss. For though I do truly rejoice in your joys, and partake with you of the gladness of the meeting after so long a time; yet it is only by imagination and sympathy that I make myself one with you, and of this the future can have no recollection.”
“If there has seemed to be any lack of interest on my part in the family reunion, it is only in the seeming. For my decision to stay at home was made with deep regret, and after the slaying of much strong desire. But, aside from the gratification which it would have given me to see you all, and which I hope it would have given you to see me, I do not think the idea of the meeting is impaired by my absence. Only this—I feel as though I had, not wilfully nor willingly, but none the less certainly, cut myself off from that sympathy—in the Greek sense—which I stood in much need of, and can ill afford to miss.
“I suppose you are now all together with one accord in one place, so far as that is possible. To bealltogether would require the union of two worlds. And this may be, too,—shall we not say it is so? But if the dear ones from the unseen world are present, though you can not hear their speech nor detect their presence by any of the senses, can not you feel that I am really with you in some sense too? Of course, the difference is great, but so also the difference is great between the meeting of friends in the natural body and the spiritual body. If the mind, the soul, constitutes the man rather than the animal substances, or the myriad cells which make up his physical organization, why may not I leap over the insignificant barrier that divides us? As I write,this feeling is very strong with me. It is vague and indefinite, but yet it seems to me that I have been having some kind of communication or communion with you. At all events, my heart goes out strongly toward you all with fervent desire that the meeting will be full of joy and comfort—of sweetest and spiritual growth—the occasion of new inspiration, new courage, new hopes. It is not likely that there can be any repetition of it this side of the ‘city which hath foundations.’
“So the memories of this meeting should be the sweetest, and should cluster thick around you in the years of separation. This much I must perforce miss. For though I do truly rejoice in your joys, and partake with you of the gladness of the meeting after so long a time; yet it is only by imagination and sympathy that I make myself one with you, and of this the future can have no recollection.”