 Chapter 5. Juliet Ward Howe, the singer of a nation's song. We have told the story of our mother's life, possibly at two great lengths, but she herself told it in eight words. Tell me, Maude asked her once, what is the ideal aim of life? She paused a moment and replied, dwelling thoughtfully on each word. To learn, to teach, to serve, to enjoy. Life of Juliet Ward Howe. The Singer of a Nation's Song. Two little girls were rolling hoops along the street when they suddenly caught them over their little bear arms and drew up close to the railings of a house on the corner. There is the wonderful coach and the little girl I told you about, Eliza, whispered in Marietta, pushing back the straw bonnet that shaded her face from the sun and pointing with her stick. It was truly a magnificent yellow coach pulled by two proud gray horses. Even Cinderella's golden ichpaj could not have been more splendid. Moreover, the little girl who sat perched upon the bright blue cushioned seat wore an elegant blue police that just matched the heavenly color of the lining and a yellow satin bonnet that was clearly inspired by the straw-colored outer shell of the chariot itself. The fair chubby face under the satin halo was turned towards the children and a pair of clear gray eyes regarded them with eager interest. She looked as if she wanted to speak, said Marietta breathlessly. Oh, Eliza, did you ever see anyone so beautiful? Just like a doll or a fairytale princess. Huh! cried Eliza, the scornful. Didn't you see that she has red hair? Who ever heard of a doll or a princess with red hair? Maybe a witch or a bad fairy turned her spun gold locks red for spite, suggested Marietta. Anyway, I wouldn't mind red hair if I was in her place so rich and all. Wouldn't it be grand to ride in a fine coach and have everything you want even before you stop to wish for it? How astonished Marietta would have been if she could have known that the little lady in the chariot was wishing that she were a little girl with a hoop? For even when she was very small, Julia Ward had other trials besides the red hair. Nowadays, people realize that red gold hair is a true crowning glory, but it wasn't the style to like it in 1825 at the time this story begins, so little Julia's mother tried her best to tone down the bright color with sobering washes and leaden combs. One day, however, the child heard a visitor say, your little girl is very beautiful. Her hair is pretty, too, with that lovely complexion. Eagerly, Julia climbed upon a chair and then on the high old-fashioned dressing table so that she could gaze in the mirror to her heart's content. Is that all? she cried after a moment and scrambled down, greatly disappointed. Eliza and Marietta would have been truly amazed if they had known that the little queen of the splendid coach had very little chance for the good times that a child loves. In these days, I really believe that people would pity her and say, poor little rich girl. She was brought up with the greatest strictness. There were many lessons, French, Latin, music, and dancing, for she must have an education that would fit her to shine in her high station. When she went out for an airing, it was always in the big coach, like a little lady. There was never a chance for a hop, skip, and jump play hour. Her delicate cambrick dresses and kid slippers were only suited to sedate in doorways, and even when she was taken to the seashore for a holiday, her face was covered with a thick green veil to keep her fair skin from all spot and blemish. Dignity and duty were the guardian geniuses of Julia Ward's childhood. Her father, Samuel Ward, was a rich New York banker with a fine American sense of noblesse oblige. He believed that a man's wealth and influence spell strict accountability to his country and to God, and he lived according to that belief. He believed that as a banker, his most vital concern was not to make himself richer and richer, but to manage money matters in such a way as to serve his city and the nation as a whole. In those times of financial stress which came to America in the early part of the 19th century, his heroic efforts more than once enabled his bank to weather a financial storm and uphold the credit of the state. On one occasion, his loyalty and unflagging zeal secured a loan of five million dollars from the Bank of England in the nick of time to avert disaster. Julia, cried her brother, who had just come in from Wall Street, men have been going up and down the office stairs all day long carrying little wooden kegs of gold on their backs, marked Prime, Ward, and King, and filled with English gold. Mr. Ward, however, did not see the triumphal procession of the kegs. He was prostrated by a severe illness due, it was said, to his two exacting labors. Years afterward, Mr. Ward's daughter said that her best inheritance from the old firm was the fact that her father had procured this loan which saved the honor of the Empire State. From the time I was a tiny child, said Julia Ward, I had heard stories of my ancestors, colonial governors and officers in the Revolution, among whom were numbered General Nathaniel Green and General Marion, the swamp fox whose fortress was the good green wood, whose tent the Cypress Tree. When I thought of the brave and honorable men and the fair and prudent wives and daughters of the line, they seemed to pass before my unworthy self terrible as an army of banners. But there was, too, the trumpet call of inspiration in the thought that they were truly mine own people. If a sense of duty and the trumpet call of her forebears urged little Julia on to application in her early years, she soon learned to love study for its own sake. When at nine years of age she began to attend a school, she listened to such purpose to the recitations of a class in Italian that she presently handed to the astonished principal a letter correctly written in that language, begging to be admitted to the study of the tongue whose soft musical vowels had charmed her ear. She had not only aptitude, but genuine fondness for languages, and early tried various experiments in the use of her own. When a child of ten she began to write verse, and thereafter the expression of her thoughts and feelings in poetic form was as natural as breathing. If you could have seen some of the solemn verses entitled, All Things Shall Pass, and We Return No More, written by the child not yet in her teens, you might have said, What an extraordinary little girl! Has she always been ill, or has she never had a chance for a good time? It was certainly true that life seemed a very serious thing to the child. Her eyes were continually turned inward, for they had not been taught to discover and enjoy the things of interest and delight in the real world. New York was in that interesting stage of its growth that followed upon the opening of the Erie Canal, not yet a city of foreigners, the melting pot of all nations, the commercial opportunities which better communication with the Great Lakes section gave caused unparalleled prosperity. In 1835 the metropolis had a population of 200,000, but Broadway was still in large part a street of dignified brick residences with bright green blinds and brass knockers along which little girls could roll their hoops. Canal Street was a popular boulevard with a canal bordered by trees running through the centre and a driveway on either side, and the district neighbouring on the Battery and Castle Garden was still a place of wealth and fashion. It is to be doubted, however, if Julia Ward ever saw anything on her drives to call her out of her daydreaming self, nor had she eyes for the marvels of nature. The Larkspurs and Libertoms in the garden had no language that she could understand. I grew up, she said, with the city measure of the universe. My own house, somebody else's, the trees in the park, a strip of blue sky overhead, and a great deal about nature read from the best authors, most of which meant nothing at all. Years later I learned to enjoy the drowsy murmur of green fields in midsummer, the song of birds, and the ways of shy woodflowers when my own children opened the door into that mighty world of eye and ear. When Julia was sixteen the return of her brother from Germany opened a new door of existence to her. She had just left school and had begun to study in real earnest. So serious was she in her devotion to her self-imposed tasks that she sometimes made a maid tie her in a chair for a certain period. Thus in bonds with a mind set free from all temptation to Rome, she wrestled with the difficulties of German grammar and came off victorious. But Brother Sam led her to an appreciation of something besides the poetry of Schiller and Goethe. He had a keen and wholesome enjoyment of the world of people, and in the end succeeded in giving his sister a taste of natural youthful gaiety. But Brother Sam led her to an appreciation of something besides the poetry of Schiller and Goethe. He had a keen and wholesome enjoyment of the world of people, and in the end succeeded in giving his young sister a taste of natural youthful gaiety. Sir, said Samuel, Jr., to his father one evening, you do not keep in view the importance of the social tie. The social what? asked the amazed Puritan. The social tie, sir. I make small account of that, rejoined the father coldly. I will die in defense of it, retorted the son hotly. The young man found, however, that it was more agreeable to live for the social tie than to die for it, and Julia, beginning too long for something besides family evenings with books and music, varied by an occasional lecture or a visit to the house of an uncle, seemed to herself like a young damsel of olden times, shut up within an enchanted castle. When she was nineteen she decided upon a declaration of independence, if she could only muster the courage to meet her affectionate jailer face to face. She thought that the bars of his prejudice against fashionable society must surely fall. I'm going to give a party, a party of my very own, she announced to her brothers, and you must help me with the list of guests. Having obtained her father's permission to invite a few friends to spend the evening, she said about her preparations. This first party of her young life showed she resolved, be correct in every detail. The best caterer in New York was engaged and a popular group of musicians. She even introduced a splendid cut glass chandelier to supplement the conservative lighting of the drawing room. My first party must be a brilliant success, she said, with a smile and a determined tilt of her chin. A brilliant company was gathered to do the debutante honor on the occasion of her audacious entry into society. Mr. Ward showed no surprise, however, when he descended the stairs and appeared upon the festive scene. He greeted the guests courteously and watched the dancing without apparent displeasure. Julia herself betrayed no more excitement than seemed natural to the acknowledged bell of the evening, but her heart was beating in a fashion not quite in tune with the music of the fiddles. When the last guests had departed, she went, according to custom, to bid her father good night, and now came the greatest surprise of all. Mr. Ward took the young girl's hand in his. My daughter, he said with tender gravity, I was surprised to see that your idea of a few friends differed widely from mine. After this you'd need not hesitate to consult me freely and frankly about what you want to do. Then kissing her good night with his usual affection, he dismissed the subject forever. Julia's brief skirmish for independence proved not a rebellion, but a revolution. Her brother's marriage to Miss Emily Astor introduced an era of gayity at this time, and when the young girl had once fairly taken her place in society, there was no such thing as going back to the old life. Jolly Julie, as she was lovingly called in the home circle, became a reigning favorite. Even rumors of her amazing blue stocking tendencies could not spoil her success. It was whispered that she was given to quoting German philosophy and French poetry. I believe she dreams in Italian vowed one greatly odd damsel. However, that might be, Jolly Julie certainly had a place in the dreams of many. Her beauty and charm won all hearts. The bright hair was now an acknowledged glory above the apple blossom fairness of her youthful bloom. But it was not alone the loveliness of the delicately molded features and the tender brightness of the clear gray eyes that made her a success. Notwithstanding the early neglect of the social tie, it was soon plain that she had the unfailing tact, the ready wit, and native good humor that are the chief assets of the social leader who is born to the purple. Besides, Miss Ward's unusual acquirements could be turned so as to masquerade in their rosy linings as accomplishments. Her musical gifts were not reserved for hours of solitary musing, but were freely devoted to the pleasure of her friends. And even the lofty poetic muse could on occasion indulge in a comic gamble to the great delight of her intimates. Miss Ward soon tried her wings in other spheres beyond New York. She found a ready welcome in Boston's select inner circle where she made the acquaintance of Long Fellow, Emerson, Whittier, Holm, and other leading figures in the literary world. Charles Sumner, the brilliant statesman and reformer, was an intimate friend of her brother, and through him she met Dr. Samuel Gridley Howe, who not long after became her husband. From above Long Fellow and Sumner, Miss Ward had heard glowing accounts of their friend Howe, who was, as they declared, the truest hero that America and the nineteenth century had produced, and the best of good comrades. He had earned the name of Chevalier, among his friends, because he was a true bear, without fear and without reproach, and because he had, moreover, been made a knight of St. George, by the king of Greece, for distinguished services during the Greek war for independence. For six years he had fought with the Patriots, both in the field and as surgeon-in-chief. While in hiding with his wounded among the bare rocks of the heights, he had sometimes nothing to eat but roasted wasps and mountain snails. When the people were without food, he had returned to America, related far and wide the story of Greece's troubles and dire need, and brought back a shipload of food and clothing. Having relieved the distress of the people, he had helped them to get in touch with normal existence once more by putting them to work. A hospital was built and a mole to enclose the harbor at Ijina. Then, after seeing the hitherto distracted peasants begin a new life as self-respecting farmers, he had returned to America. At this time he was doing pioneer work in the education of the blind. As director of the Perkins Institution in Boston, he was not only laboring to make more efficient this first school for the blind in America, but he was also going about through the country with his pupils to show something of what might be done in the way of practical training in order to induce the legislatures of the several states to provide similar institutions for those deprived of sight. In particular, Dr. House success in teaching Laura Bridgeman a blind deaf butte was the marvel of the civilized world. One day, when long fellow and Sumner were calling upon Ms. Ward, they suggested driving over to the Perkins Institution. When they arrived, the hero of the hour and the place was absent. Before they left, however, Mr. Sumner, who had been looking out of the window, suddenly exclaimed, There is how now on his black horse! Ms. Ward looked with considerable eagerness in her curiosity and saw, as she afterwards said, a noble rider on a noble steed. In this way, the chevalier rode into the life of the fair lady, as the night of the ballad swung the maiden of his choice to the group of his charger and galloped off with her in the face of her helpless kinsmen, so this serious philanthropist and reformer carried off the lovely society favorite in spite of the fact that he cared not at all for her gay, carefree world and was, moreover, twenty years her senior. The following portion of a letter which Ms. Ward wrote to her brother Sam shows how completely she was one. The chevalier says truly, I am the captive of his bow and spear, his true devotion has won me from the world and from myself. The past is already fading from my sight. Already I begin to live with him in the future which shall be as calmly bright as true love can make it. I am perfectly satisfied to sacrifice to one so noble and earnest the daydreams of my youth. Dr. Howe and his bride went to Europe on their wedding trip on the same steamer with Horace Mann and his newly made wife Mary Peabody, the sister of Mrs. Nathaniel Hawthorne. The teacher of Laura Bridgeman was well known in England through Dickinson's American Notes and people were anxious to do him honor. Dickinson not only invited the interesting Americans to dinner but he offered to pilot Dr. Howe and his brother reformer Horace Mann about darkest London and show them the haunts of misery and crime which no one knew better than the author of Oliver Twist, Little Dorrit and Bleak House. The following note written in Dickinson's characteristic hand shows the zest with which the great novelist undertook these expeditions and his boyish love of fun. My dear Howe, drive tonight to St. Giles Church. Be there at half past eleven and wait. Somebody will put his head into the coach after a Venetian and mysterious fashion and breathe your name. Follow that man, trust him to the death. So no more at present from 9th June 1843, The Mask. It had been the plan to go from England to Berlin but Dr. Howe who had once incurred the displeasure of the king of Prussia by giving aid to certain Polish refugees and had indeed been held for five weeks in a German prison was now excluded from the country as a dangerous person. This greatly amused Horace Mann who remarked, when we consider that his majesty as 200,000 men constantly under arms and can in need increase the number to two million, we begin to appreciate the estimation in which he holds your single self. When some years later the king sent Dr. Howe a medal in recognition of his work for the blind, the chevelier declared laughingly, it is worth just what I was obliged to pay for board and lodging while in the Berlin prison. His majesty is magnanimous. After traveling through Switzerland, Italy and France, the house stopped for a second visit to England where they were entertained for a time by the parents of Florence Nightingale. A warm attachment sprang up between them and the earnest young woman of 24. I want to ask your advice Dr. Howe, said Miss Nightingale one day. Would it be unsuitable for a young English woman to devote herself to works of charity in hospitals and wherever needed, just as the Catholic sisters do? The doctor replied gravely, my dear Miss Florence, it would be unusual and in England whatever is unusual is apt to be thought unsuitable, but I say to you go forward. If you have a vocation for that way of life, act up to your inspiration and you will find that there is never anything unbecoming or unladylike in doing your duty for the good of others. After the house had returned to Boston and settled down to the workday order in the institution, young wife's loyalty to the new life was often sorely tried. She loved the sunshine of the bright gracious world of leisurely happy people and she felt herself chilled in this bleak gray place of sober duties. If only she could warm herself at the fire of friendship oftener. But all the pleasant people lived in pleasant places too far from the South Boston institution for the give and take of easy intercourse. Dr. Howe moreover was much of the time so absorbed in the causes of which she was championed in chief that few hours were saved for quiet fireside enjoyment. I hardly know what I should have done in those days, said Mrs. Howe. Without the companionship of my babies and Miss Catherine Beecher's cookbook. The chivalier loved to invite for a weekly dinner his a special group of intimates, five choice spirits among whom Longfellow and Sumner were numbered who styled themselves the five of clubs. These dinners brought many new problems to the young hostess who now wished that some portion of her girlhood days lavished on Italian and music had been devoted to the more intimate side of menus. However she was before long able to take pride in her puddings without renouncing poetry and to keep an eye on the economy of the kitchen and her sense of humor at the same time as the following extract from a breezy letter to her sister Louisa can testify. Our house has been enlivened of late by two delightful visits. The first was from the soap fat merchant who gave me 34 pounds of good soap for my grease. I was quite beside myself with joy capered about in the most enthusiastic manner and was going to hug in turn the soap, the grease, and the man when I reflected that it would not sound well in history. This morning came the rag man who takes rags and gives nice tin vessels in exchange. Both of these were clever transactions. Oh if you had seen me stand by the soap fat man and scrutinized his weights and measures telling him again and again that it was beautiful grease and that he must allow me a good price for it. Truly I am a mother in Israel. The hours spent with her wee daughters were happy times. Sometimes she improvised jingles to amuse baby Flossie Florence after Florence nightingale and teased the absorbed father reformer at the same time. Raro raro riddley rad this morning my baby cut side of her dad. Quoth she oh daddy where have you been with man in summer of putting down sin. Sometimes she sang little bedtime rhymes about lambs and baby birds sheep and sleep and when the small auditors demanded that their particular pets have a part in the song readily added the little donkey in the stable sleeps as sound as he is able all things now their rest pursue you are sleepy too. As soon as Dr. Howe could find a suitable place near the institution he moved his little family into a home of their own. On the bright summer day when Mrs. Howe drove under the bower formed by the final trees that guarded the house she exclaimed oh this is green peas and green peas their home was called from that day. The children enjoyed here helpful outdoor times and happy indoor frolics plays given at their doll's theater when father and mother worked the puppets to a dialogue of squeaks and grunts and really truly plays such as the three bears when father distinguished himself as the great big huge bear the rose and the ring and blue beard in the midst of the joys and cares of such a rich home life how was it that the busy mother still found time for study and writing for she was always a student keeping her mind in training as an athlete keeps his muscles and the need of finding expression in words for her inner life became more insistent as time went on one of her daughters once said it was a matter of course to us children that papa and mama should play with us sing to us tell us stories bathe our bumps and accompany us to the dentist these were the things that papa's and mama's did looking back now with some realization of all the other things they did we wonder how they managed it for one thing both were rapid workers for another both had the power of leading and inspiring others to work for a third so far as we can see neither wasted a moment for a fourth neither ever reached a point where there was not some other task ahead to be begun as soon as might be life with the beloved reformer was often far from easy but there were never any regrets for the old carefree days I shipped as captain's mate for the voyage she said on one occasion with a merry laugh that was like a heartening cheer and then she added seriously I cannot imagine a more useful motto for married life always she realized that she owed all that was deepest and most steadfast in herself to this union but for the shovel year I should have been merely a woman of the world and a literary dabbler she said a volume of verse passion flowers was praised by long fellow in wittier and won a wide popularity a later collection words for the hour was on the whole better but not so much red still the woman felt that she had not yet really found herself in her work she longed to give something that was vital something that would fill a need and make a difference to people in the real world of action the days of the civil war made every earnest spirit long to be of some service to the nation and to humanity dr howe and his friend were among the leaders of the abolitionists at the time when they were a despised party of cranks and margers it was small wonder that when the struggle came mrs howe's soul was fired with the desire to help there seemed nothing that she could do but scrape lint for the hospitals which any other woman could do equally well if only her poetic gift were not such a slender read if she could but command an instrument of trumpet strength to voice the spirit of the hour in this mood she had gone to washington to see a review of the troops on returning while her carriage was delayed by the marching regiments her companions tried to relieve the intensity and tedium of the weight by singing war songs among others john brown's body lies a moldering in the grave his soul is marching on the passing soldiers caught at this with a good for you and joined in the chorus mrs howe said her minister james freeman clark who was one of the company why do you not write some really worthy words for that stirring tune i have often wished to do so she replied let us tell the story of the writing of the nation's song as her daughters have told it in the biography of their mother waking in the gray of the next morning as she lay waiting for the dawn the word came to her mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the lord she lay perfectly still line by line stanza by stanza the words came sweeping on with the rhythm of marching feet poseless resistless she saw the long lines swinging into place before her eyes heard the voice of the nation speaking through her lips she waited till the voice was silent till the last line was ended then spring from bed and groping for pen and paper scrawled in the gray twilight the battle hymn of the republic and so the nation's song was born how did it come to pass that the people knew it as their own when it appeared in the atlantic monthly it called forth little comment the days gave small chance for the poetry awards but some poets in the real world of deeds had seen it the people who were fighting on the nation's battlefields and again and again it was sung enchanted as a prayer before battle and a trumpet call to action a certain fighting chaplain who had committed it to memory sang it one memorable night in liby prison when the joyful tidings of the victory of gettysburg had penetrated even those gloomy walls like a flame the word flashed through the prison men leaped to their feet shouted embraced one another in a frenzy of joy and triumph and chaplain mccabe standing in the middle of the room lifted up his voice and sang mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the lord every voice took up the chorus and liby prison rang with the shout of later when chaplain mccabe related to a great audience in washington the story of that night and ended by singing the battle hymn of the republic as only one who has lived it can sing it the voice of abraham lincoln was heard above the wild applause calling as the tears rolled down his cheeks sing it again it has been said that what a person does in some great moment of his life in a moment of fiery trial or of high exaltation is the result of all the thoughts and deeds of all the slow changing days so the habits of a lifetime cry out at last is it not true that this nation's song which seemed to write itself in a wonderful moment of inspiration was really the expression of years of brave faithful living all the earnestness of the child all the dreams and warm friendliness of the girl all the tenderness and loyal devotion of the wife and mother speak in those words nor is it the voice of her life alone the trumpet call of her forebears was in those stirring lines only a tried and true american whose people had fought and suffered for freedom's sake could have written that nation's song juliet ward howe's long life of 91 years was throughout one of service and inspiration many people were better and happier because of her life it was a great moment when on the occasion of any public gathering the word went around that mrs howe was present with one accord those assembled would rise to their feet and hall or theater would ring with the inspiring lines of the battle hymn of the republic the man who said i care not who shall make the laws of the nation if i may be permitted to make its songs spoke wisely a true song comes from the heart and goes to the heart a nation's song is the voice of the heart and life of a whole people in it the hearts of many beat together as one end of chapter five recording by linette cockens monument colorado chapter six of heroines of service this is the libra vox recording all libra vox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit libravox.org recording by florans short heroines of service by mary rosetta parkman chapter six a champion of the cause anna howard shaw nothing bigger can come to a human being than to love a great cause more than life itself and to have the privilege throughout life of working for that cause end of quote anna howard shaw a young girl was standing on a stump in the woods waving her arms and talking very earnestly there was no one there to listen except a robin a tilt on a branch where the afternoon sun could turn his rusty brown breast to red and a chattering inquisitive lujay all the other little wood folk were in hiding that strange creature was in the woods but not of them she belonged to the world of people the girl knew that she belonged to a different world she was not trying to play that she was a little american saint francis preaching to the birds in the forests of northern michigan she was looking past the great trees and all the busy life that lurked there to the faraway haunts of men somehow she felt that she would have something to say to them someday she raised her clasped hands high above her head and lifted her face to the patch of sky that green deep blue between the golden green branches of the trees there is much that i can say she declared fervently i am only a girl but i feel in my heart that someday people will listen to me a gray squirrel scampered noisily across the dry brown leaves and frisked up a tree trunk where he clung for a moment regarding the girl on the stump with shining curious eyes saucy nutcracker cried the child tossing an acorn at the alert little creature do you too think it's strange for a girl to want to do things what would you say if i should tell you that a young girl wants to let a great army to victory a poor girl who had to work hard all day just as i do she did not know how to read or write but she knew how to answer all the puzzling questions that the learned and powerful men of the day who tried with all their might to trip her up could think to ask they called her a witch then of truth this girl jone must be possessed of an evil spirit they said who ever heard of a maid speaking as she speaks years afterwards they called her a saint she was the leader of her people even though she was a girl now i don't mean fellow birds and squirrels that i expect to be another jone of arc but i know that i shall be something and a shaw's bright dark eyes glowed with intense feeling like the maid of whom she had been reading she had her vision a vision of a large happy life waiting for her little untaught backwards girl though she was her book led the way down a charmed path into the world of dreams for the time she forgot the drudgery of the days the plowing and planting and howling about the stumps of their little glaring the cutting of wood the carrying of water she walked back to the cabin that was home with her head held high and her lips parted in a smile but all at once she was brought back to real things with a rude bump what have you been doing Anna demanded her father who stood waiting for her in the doorway reading sir the girl faltered so you have been idling away precious hours at a time your mother has needed your help the stern voice went on accusingly what do you suppose the future will bring to one who has not proved faithful in little the girl looked at her father without speaking she knew that her share in the work of the household was not little her young hands hardened from rough toil twitched nervously the injustice cut her to the quick couldn't her father imagine what holding down that claim in the woods had meant for the little family during the 18 months that he and the two older boys had remained behind in the east in his joy securing the grant of land from the government he already pictured the well-conditioned farm that would one day be his and his children's quote the acorn was not an acorn but a forest of young oaks end of quote in a flash she saw as if it were yesterday the afternoon when their pathetic little caravan had at last reached the home that awaited them she saw the frail tired mother give one glance at the rude log hut in the stumped fill clearing and then sink in a despairing heap on the dirt floor it was but the hollow shell of a cabin walls and roof with square holes for door and windows gaping for lonely at the home seekers she heard the wolves and wildcats as she had on that first night when they had huddled together helpless creatures from another world not knowing if their watch fires would keep the hungry beasts at bay she saw parties of indians stalked by in war paint and feathers she saw herself a child of 12 trudging wherely did the distant creek for water until the time when with her brother's help she dug a well there was to the work of laying a floor and putting doors and windows like robin's and cruci she had served a turn at every trade today that of carpenter or builder tomorrow that of farmer fishermen or woodcutter as these pictures flash before the eye of memory she looked at her father quietly without a word of defense or self pity all she said was father someday i am going to college the little smile that curled his lips as he looked his astonishment drove her to another post the dreams of the free calm woods and the heroic maid of orleans had faded away somehow she longed to put forth her claim in a way to impress anyone even a man who felt that a girl ought not to want anything but dredging and before i die i shall be worth ten thousand dollars she prophesied boldly however the months that succeeded gave no sign of any change of fortune a sudden storm turned a day of toil now and then into a red letter day when one had chance to read the books that father had brought with him into the wilderness sometimes one could stretch at ease on the floor and dreamily scan the pages of the weekly that papered the walls there was always abundant opportunity in the busy hours that followed to reflect on what one had read to compare to contrast and to apply and so to index for good and all the ideas that the books had to give it was clear too that there were many interesting things to be seen and enjoyed even in the most humdrum work a day round if one were able to read real life as well as print could anything be more delightful than the way father would drop his hoe and run into the house to work out a problem concerning the yield of a certain number of kernels of corn the days would go by while he calculated and speculated energetically over this problem and that leaving such trivial tasks as planting and plowing to others then there were the weekend visitors often as many as 10 or a dozen of the neighboring settlers big lumbermen and farmers would come on saturday to spend the night in sunday listening to her father read when it was delicately hinted that this was a tax on the family's door of tallow dips each man dutifully brought a candle to light the way to learning it never seemed to occur either to them or to the impractical father who liked nothing better than reading and expounding that the entertainment of so many guests was a severe tax on the strength and patience of the working members of the household but life was not all labor there was now and then a wonderful ball at big rapids then a booming lumber town when it was impossible to get any sort of a team to make the journey they went down the river on a raft taking their party dresses in trunks as balls like other good things in pioneer experience were all too rare it was the custom to make the most of each occasion by changing one's costume at midnight and thus starting off with fresh enthusiasm to dance the monkey musk and the virginia reel in the small ours our costumes in those days had at least the spice of originality said nishaw with a reminiscent smile i well remember a certain gay ballgana by own made of bedroom chints in the home tailored trousers of my gallant swain whose economical mother had employed flower sacks on which the local firm name in the guarantee 96 pounds appeared indelibly imprinted a blue flannel shirt and a festive yellow sash completed his interesting outfit when annishaw was 15 she began to teach in the little log schoolhouse of the settlement for two dollars a week and board round the day's work often meant a walk of from three to six miles a trip to the woods for fuel the making of the wood fire and the partial drawing of rain so close before instruction began then imagine the child of 15 teaching 15 children of assorted ages and dispositions out of 15 different reading books most of which he had herself supplied i remember that one little girl read from a hymn book while another had an albinac she said as there was no money for such luxuries as education until the dog tax had been collected the young teacher received one bright spring day the dazzling sum of 26 for the entire term of 13 weeks in the spending of this wealth spring and youth carried the day Joan of Arc and the preaching in the woods were for the time forgotten she longed about everything else to have some of the pretty things that all girls love making a pilgrimage to a real shop she bought her first real party dress a splendid creation of a rich magenta color elaborately decorated with black braid perhaps she regretted all too soon the rashness of this expenditure for the next year brought hard times war had been declared and Lincoln's call for troops had taken all the able-bodied men of the community when news came that Fort Sumter had been fired on said Michelle are men worth rushing i remember seeing a man ride up on horseback shouting out Lincoln's demand for troops and explaining that a regiment was being formed at big rapids before he had finished speaking the men on the machine had leapt to the ground and rushed off to enlist my brother Jack who had recently joined us among them and I sure was now the chief support of the little home in the wilderness and the pitiful sum earned by teaching had to be eked out by boarding the workers from the lumber camps and taking in sewing in order to pay the taxes and meet the bare necessities of life with calico selling for 50 cents a yard coffee for a dollar a pound and everything else in proportion one cannot but marble how the women and children manage to exist they struggled along with hearts heavy with anxiety for loved ones on the battlefields to do as best they could the work of the men gathering in the crops grinding the corn and caring for the cattle in addition to the home keeping tasks of the daily round it takes perhaps more courage and endurance to be a faithful member of the home army than it does to march into battle with bands playing in colors flying when at the end of the war the return of the father and brothers freed her from the responsibility for the upkeep of the home and a show determined upon a bold step realizing that years must pass before she could save enough from her earnings as country school teacher to go to college she went to live with a married sister in big rabbits and entered as a pupil in the high school there the preceptress miss lucy foot who was a college graduate and a woman of unusual strength of character took a lively interest in the new student and encouraged her ambition to preach by putting her in the classes in public speaking and debating i vividly remember my first recitation in public said mishaw i was so overcome by the impressiveness of the audience and the occasion and so appalled at my own boldness in standing there that i sank in a faint on the platform sympathetic classmates carried me out and revived me after which they naturally assumed that the entertainment i furnished was over for the evening i however felt that if i let that failure stand against me i could never after would speak in public and within 10 minutes notwithstanding the protests of my friends i was back in the hall and beginning my recitation a second time the audience gave me its eager attention possibly it hoped to see me topple off the platform again but nothing of the sort occurred i went through the presentation with self-possession and received some friendly applause at the end after this maiden speech the young girl appeared frequently in public now in school debates now in amateur theatricals it was as if the fates had her case particularly in hand at this time for everything seemed to further the secret longing that had possessed her ever since the days when she had preached to the trees in the forest there was a growing sentiment in favor of licensing women to preach in the Methodist church and dr. peck the presiding elder of the big rapids district who was chief among the advocates of the movement was anxious to present the first woman candidate for the ministry meeting the alert ardent young student at the home of her teacher dr. peck took pains to door her into conversation soon she was talking freely with eager animation and her questioner was listening with interest nodding approval now and then then an amazing thing happened dr. peck looked at her smilingly and asked in an offhand manner would you like to preach the quarterly sermon at ashton the young woman gasped she stared at the good man in astonishment then she realized that he was speaking in entire seriousness oh why she stammered i can't preach a sermon have you ever tried he asked never she began and then as the picture of her childish self standing on the stump in the sunlit woods flashed upon her never to human beings she amended dr. peck was smiling again well he said the door is open enter or not as you wish after much serious console with this foot and with her own soul and a show determined to go in at the open door for six weeks the preparation of the first sermon engaged most of her waking thoughts and even in her dreams the text she had chosen sounded in her ears it was moreover a time of no little anguish of spirit because of the consternation with which her family regarded her unusual call one might as well be guilty of crime it appeared as to be so forward and unwomenly finding it impossible to bring her to reason in any other way they tried a bribe after a solemn gathering of the clans it was agreed that if she would give up this insane ambition to preach they would send her to college to Ann Arbor and defer all her expenses the thought of Ann Arbor was a sore temptation but she realized that she could no more be faithless to the vision that had been with her from childhood than she could cease being herself the momentous first sermon was the forerunner of many others in different places and when at the conference the members were asked to vote whether she should be licensed as a local preacher the majority of the ministers raised both hands she was however still regarded as the black sheep of the family and it was with a heavy spirit that she plotted on day by day with her studies surely nobody was ever more in need of a friendly word than was Anna Shaw at the time that Mary A. Livermore came to lecture in Big Rapids at the close of the meeting she was among those gathered in a circle about the distinguished speaker when someone pointed her out remarking that there was a young person who wanted to preach in spite of the opposition and entreaties of all her friends Mrs. Livermore looked into Anna Shaw's glowing eyes with sudden interest then she put her arm about her and said quietly my dear if you want to preach go on and preach no matter what people say don't let them stop you before Mrs. Shaw could choke back her emotion sufficiently to reply one of her good friends exclaimed oh Mrs. Livermore don't say that to her we're all trying to stop her her people are wretched over the whole thing and don't you see how ill she is she has one foot in the grave and the other almost there yes said Mrs. Livermore looking thoughtfully at the white face that was turned appealingly toward her I see she has but it is better that she should die doing the things she wants to do than that she should die because she can't do it so they think I'm going to die cried Mrs. Shaw well I'm not I'm going to live and preach with renewed zeal and courage she turned again to her books and in the autumn of 1873 entered Albion College with only $18 as my entire capital she said and not the least idea how I might add to it I was approaching the campus when I picked up a copper cent bearing the date of my birth 1848 it seemed to me a good omen and I was sure of it when within the week I found two more pennies exactly like it though I have more than once been tempted to spend those pennies I have them still to my great comfort at college she was distinguished for her independence of thought and for her alert vigorous mind when on being invited to join the literary society that boasted both men and women members instead of the exclusively feminine group she was assured that women need to be associated with men because they don't know how to manage meetings she replied with spirit if they don't it's high time they learn I shall join the women and we'll master the art her gift as a public speaker not only earned her a place of prominence in her class through her able debates and orations but it also helped pay her way through college since she received now and then $5 for a temperance talk in one of the nearby country school houses but search sums came at uncertain intervals and her board bills came due with discouraging regularity a gift of $92 sent at Christmas by her friends in Big Rapids alone made it possible for her to get through the term though the second year at Albion was comparatively smooth sailing because her reputation had brought enough calls to preach and lecture to defray her modest expenses she decided to go to Boston University for her theological course she was able to make her way in the West why was it not possible to do the same in the place where she could get the needed equipment for her life work but she soon found what it means to be alone and penniless in a large city opportunities were few and hungry students were many for the first time in her life she was tempted to give up and own herself beaten when a sudden riff came in the clouds of discouragement she was invited to assist in holding a revival week in one of the Boston churches it was soon evident that one could live on milk and crackers if only hope were added the week's campaign was a great success if she herself had not been able to feel the fervor and enthusiasm that the meetings had aroused she could have no doubt when the minister assured her that her help had proved invaluable that he greatly wished he were able to give her the $50 which at the very lowest estimate she deserved but alas he had nothing to offer but his heart felt thanks when miss Shaw passed out of the church her heart was indeed heavy she had failed I was friendless penniless and starving she said but it was not of these conditions that I thought then the one overwhelming fact was that I had been weighed and found wanting I was not worthy all at once she felt a touch on her arm an old woman who had evidently been waiting for her to come out put a five dollar bill in her hand I am a poor woman miss Shaw she said but I have all I need and I want to make you a little present for I know how hard life must be for you young students I'm the happiest woman in the world tonight and I owe my happiness to you you have converted by grandson who is all I have left and he is going to lead a different life this is the biggest gift I have ever had cried miss Shaw this little bill is big enough to carry my future on his back this was indeed the turning point here was enough for food and shoes but it was much more than that it was a sign that she had her place in the great world there was need of what she could do and there could be no more doubt that her needs would be met even though she could not see the path ahead she would never lose heart again the succeeding months brought not only the means to live but also the spirit to make the most of each day's living I graduated in a new black silk gown she said with five dollars in my pocket which I kept there during the graduation exercises I felt special satisfaction in the possession of that money for notwithstanding the handicap of being a woman I was said to be the only member of my class who had worked during the entire course graduated free from debt and had a new outfit as well as a few dollars in cash miss Shaw's influence as a preacher may be illustrated by a single anecdote in the months following her graduation she went on a trip to Europe a friend having left her a bequest for that express purpose well in January she was asked to preach to the sailors in a gospel ship in the harbor but when she appeared it was evident that the missionary in charge had not understood that the minister he had invited was a woman he was unhappy and apologetic in his introduction and the weather beaten Tars in their turn looked both resentful and mocking it was certainly a trying moment when miss Shaw began to speak she had never in her life felt more forlorn or more homesick when all at once the thought flashed through her that back of those unfriendly faces that confronted her there were lonely souls just as hungry for home as she was impulsively stepping down from the pulpit so that she stood on a level with her hearers she said my friends I hope you will forget everything that Dr. Blank has just said it is true that I am a minister and that I came here to preach but now I do not intend to preach only to have a friendly talk on a text that is not in the bible I am very far from home and I feel as homesick as some of you men look so my text is blessing are the homesick for they shall go home then out of the knowledge of seafaring people which she had gained through summer vacations when she had filled in for the absent pastor of a little church on Cape God she talked in a way that went straight to the hearts of the rough men gathered there when she saw that the unpleasant grin had vanished from the face of the hardest old pirate of them all she said when I came here I intended to preach a sermon on the heavenly vision now I want to give you a glimpse of that in addition to the vision we have had of home after her return to America Michelle was called as pastor to a church at East Dennis Cape God and a few months later she was asked to hold services at another church about three miles distant these two churches she held for seven happy years rich in the opportunity for real service feeling the need of knowing how to minister through the bodily needs of those she labored among miss Shaw took a course at the Boston Medical School going to the city for a part of each week and graduating with a degree of md in 1885 when someone who knew about her untiring work as leader and helper of the people to whom she preached asked her how it had been possible for her to endure so great a strain she replied cheerfully can genial work no matter how much there is of it has never yet killed anyone during the time of her medical studies when Michelle was serving as volunteer doctor and nurse to the poor in the Boston slums she became interested in the cause of woman's suffrage the cause it was to her always in the years that succeeded a new day had come with new needs she saw that everywhere there were change conditions and grave problems brought about by the entrance of women into the world of wage earners and she became convinced that only through an understanding and sharing of the responsibilities of citizenship by both men and women could the best interests of each community be served she therefore gave up her church work on Cape Cod to become a lecturer in a larger field for a while she devoted part of her time to the temperance crusade until that great leader of the woman's movement Susan B Anthony it's Susan as she was affectionately called persuaded her to give all her strength to the cause without an iron constitution and steady nerves as well as an unfailing sense of humor she could never have met the hardships and strange chances that were her portion in the years that succeeded in order to meet the appointments of her lecturers she was constantly traveling often under the most untoward circumstances now finding herself snowbound in a small prairie town now compelled to cross a swollen river on an uncertain trestle now stricken with an attack of toamain poisoning while on the road with no one within call except a switchman in his signal tower perhaps more appalling than any or all of these tests was the occasion when she arrived in a town to find that the lecture committee had advertised her as the lady who whistled before Queen Victoria and announced that she would speak on the missing link when she ventured to protest the manager remarked amiably that they had mixed her up with a shawl lady that whistles but i don't know anything about the missing link continued Michelle well you see we chose that subject because they have been talking about it in the debating society and we knew it would arouse interest she was assured just bring in a reference to it every now and then and it'll be all right open the meeting with a song so that i can think for a minute and then i'll see what can be done said me shawl pluckly as the expected audience led by the chairman saying with patriotic fervor the stars bangled banner and america the ship wrecks lecturer managed to seize a straw of inspiration that turned in her grass magically into a veritable life preserver it is easy she said to herself woman is the missing link in our government i'll give them a suffrage speech along that line miss shaw has labored many years for the cause she worked with courage dignity and unfailing common sense and good humor in the day of small things when the suffrage pioneers were ridiculed by both men and women as a band of unwomanly freaks and fanatics she has lived to see the cause steadily grow in following an influence in state after state particularly those of the growing progressive west call upon women to share equally with men many of the duties of citizenship and social service she has seen that in such states there is no disposition to go back to the old order of things and that open-minded people freely admit that it is only a question of time until the more conservative parts of the country will fall into line and equal suffrage become nationwide her days have been rich in happy work large usefulness and inspiring friendships many honors have been showered upon her both in her own country and abroad but she has always looked upon the work which she has been privileged to do as making the best and the most honorable part of her life once while attending a general conference of women in berlin she won the interest in real friendship of a certain italian princess who invited her to visit at her castle in italy and also to go with her to her mother's castle in austria as miss shaw was firm in declining these distinguished honors the princess begged an explanation because my dear princess miss shaw explained i am a working woman nobody need no that murmured the princess calmly on the contrary it is the first thing i should explain was the reply but why demanded the princess you are proud of your family are you not asked miss shaw you are proud of your great line assuredly replied the princess very well continued miss shaw i am proud too what i have done i have done unaided and to be frank with you i'd rather approve of it my work is my patent of nobility and i am not willing to associate with those from whom it would have to be concealed or with those who would look down upon it enna howard shaw's autobiography which she calls the story of a pioneer is an absorbingly interesting and inspiring narrative it gives with refreshing directness and wholesome appreciation the story of her struggles and her work together with revealing glimpses of some of her comrades in the cause it is at once her own story and the story of the pioneer days of the movement to which she gave her rich gifts of mind and character in conclusion she quotes a speech of a certain small niece who was overheard trying to rouse her still smaller sister to noble indifference in the face of the ridicule of their playmates who had laughed when they had bravely announced that they were suffragettes aren't you ashamed of yourself she demanded to stop just because you are laughed at once look at an anna she has been laughed at for hundreds of years quote i sometimes feel added the champion of the cause that it has indeed been hundreds of years since my work began and then again it seems so brief a time that by listening for a moment i fancy i can hear the echo of my childish voice preaching to the trees in the michigan woods but long or short the one short thing is that taking it all in all the fight has been worthwhile nothing bigger can come to a human being than to love a great cause more than life itself and to have the privilege throughout life of working for that cause end of quote end of chapter six chapter seven of heroines of service this is a libervox recording all libervox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit libervox.org recording by linette caulkins monument colorado herons of service by mary rosetta parkman chapter seven the making of a patriot mary antin where is the true man's fatherland is it where he by chance is born doth not the yearning spirit scorn in such scant borders to be spanned oh yes his fatherland must be as the blue heaven wide and free james russell lowell the making of a patriot you know the story of the man without a country the man who lost his country through his own fault can you imagine what it would mean to be a child without a country to have no flag no heroes no true native land to which you belong as you belong to your family and which in turn belongs to you how would it seem to grow up without the feeling that you have a big country a true fatherland to protect your home and your friends to build schools for you to give you parks and playgrounds and clean beautiful streets to fight disease and many dangers on land and water for you this is the story of a little girl who was born in a land where she had no chance for life liberty and the pursuit of happiness far from being a true fatherland her country was like the cruel stepmother of the old tales it was strange that one could be born in a country and yet have no right to live there little mary ash or maski as she was called because she was too tiny a girl for a big sounding name soon learned that the russia where she was born was not her own country it seemed that the russians did not love her people or want them to live in their big land and yet there they were truly it was a strange world why is father afraid of the police asked little maski he has done nothing wrong my child the trouble is that we can do nothing right cried her mother ringing her hands everything is wrong with us we have no rights nothing that we dare to call our own it seemed that maski's people had to live in a special part of the country called the pale of settlement it was against the law to go outside the pale no matter how hard it was to make a living where many people of the same manner of life were herded together no matter how much you longed to try your fortune in a new place it was not a free land this pollots where she had been born it was a prison with iron laws that shut people away from any chance for happy living it is hard to live in a cage be it large or small like a wild bird the free human spirit beats its wings against any bars why mother why is it that we must not go outside the pale asked maski because the czar and those others who have the power to make the laws do not love our people they hate us and all our ways was the reply but why do they hate us mother persisted the child with big earnest eyes because we are different because we can never think like them and be like them their big russia is not big enough to give people of another sort a chance to live and be happy in their own way even in crowded pollots though with police spying on every side there were happy days there were the beautiful friday afternoons when maski's father and mother came home early from the store to put off every sign of the workadake world and make ready for the Sabbath the children were allowed to wear their holiday clothes and new shoes they stepped about happily while their mother hid the great store keys and the money bag under her feather bed and the grandmother sealed the oven and cleared every trace of work from the kitchen how maski loved the time of candle prayer as she looked at the pure flame of her candle the light shown in her face and in her heart then she looked at the work worn faces of her mother and grandmother all the lines of care and trouble were smoothed away in the soft light they had escaped from the prison of this unfriendly land with its hard laws and its hateful pale they were living in the dim but glorious past when their father's fathers had been a free nation in a land of their own but maski could not escape from the prison in that way she was young and glad to be alive her candle shown for light and life today and tomorrow and tomorrow there were no bars that could shed away her free spirit from the light how glad she was for life and sunlight on the peaceful Sabbath afternoons when holding to her father's hand she walked beyond the city streets along the riverside to the place where in blossoming orchards birds sang of the joyful life of the air and where in newly plowed fields peasants sang the song of planting time and the fruitful earth her heart leaped as she felt herself a part of the life that flowed through all things river air earth trees birds and happy toiling people it seemed to maski that most of her days were passed in wondering wondering about the strange world in which she found herself and its strange ways of course she played as the children about her did with her rag doll and her jacks made of the knuckle bones of sheep and she learned to dance to the most spirited tune that could be coaxed from the teeth of a comb covered with a bit of paper in winter she loved to climb in the bare sludge which when not actively engaged in hauling wood could give a wonderful joy ride to a party of happy youngsters who cared nothing that their sleigh boasted only straw and burlap in place of cushions and fur robes and a knotted rope in place of reins with jingling bells but always winter and summer in season and out of season maski found herself wondering about the meaning of all the things that she saw and heard she wondered about her hens who gave her eggs and broth and feathers for her bed all in exchange for her careless largesse of grain did they ever feel that the barnyard was a prison she wondered about the treadmill horse who went round and round to pump water for the public baths did he know that he was cheated out of the true life of a horse work time in cheerful partnership with man and playtime in the pasture with the fresh turf under his road weary hoofs did the women who toiled over the self-same tasks in such a weary round that they looked forward to the change of wash day at the river where they stood knee deep in the water to rub and scrub their poor rags know that they too were in a treadmill sometimes she could not sleep for wondering and would steal from her bed before daybreak to walk through the dewy grass of the yard and watch the blackness turn to soft dreamy gray then the houses seemed like breathing creatures and all the world was hushed and very sweet was there ever such a wonder as the coming of a new day as she watched it seemed that her spirit flew beyond the town beyond the river and the glowing sky itself touching knowing and loving all things her spirit was free sometimes it seemed that the wings of her spirit could all but carry her little body up and away she was indeed such a we might that they sometimes called her mouse and crumb and poppy seed all of her eager flaming life was in her questioning eyes and her dark wayward curls because she was small and frail she was spared the hard work that early felt the lot of her older stronger sister so it happened that she had time for her wanderings time for her spirit to grow and try its wings maski was still a very little child when she learned a very big truth she discovered that there were many prisons besides those made by russian laws she saw that her people often shut themselves up in prisons of their own making there were hundreds of laws and observances ways to wash to eat to dress to work which seemed to many as sacred as their faith in god doubtless the rules which were now only empty forms had once had meaning such as the law forbidding her people to touch fire on the Sabbath which came down from a time before matches or tender boxes when making a fire was hard work but all good people observed the letter of the law and no matter what the need of mending a fire or a light would wait for a Gentile helper to come to the rescue one memorable evening however maski saw her father when he thought himself unobserved quietly steal over to the table and turn down a troublesome lamp the gleam of a new light came to the mind of the watching wondering child at that moment she began to understand that even her father who was the wisest man in polots did many things because he feared to offend the prejudices of their people just as he did many other things because of fear of the russian police there was more than one kind of a prison when maski was about 10 years old a great change came to her life her father decided to go on a long journey to a place far from polots and its rules of life far from russia and its laws of persecution and death to a true promised land where all people it was said no matter what their nation and belief were free to live and be happy in their own way the name of this promised land was america some friendly people the immigration society her father called them made it possible for him to go try his fortune in the new country soon he would make a home there for them all at last the wonderful letter came a long letter and yet it could not tell the half of his joy in the promised land he had not found riches no he had been obliged to borrow the money for the third class tickets he was sending them but he had found freedom best of all his children might have the chance to go to school and learn the things that make a free life possible and worthwhile maski found that they had suddenly become the most important people in polots all the neighbors gathered about to see the marvelous tickets that could take a family across the sea cousins who had not thought of them for months came with gifts and pleadings for letters from the new world do not forget us when you are so happy and grand they said you will see my boy my mo shell cried a poor mother again and again ask him why he does not write to us these many months if you do not find him in boston maybe he will be in botimora it is all america the day came at last when every stool and feather bed was sold and their clothes and all the poor treasures that they could carry were wrapped in queer looking bundles ready to be taken in their arms to the new home all of polots went to the station to wave gay handkerchiefs and bits of calico and wish them well they soon found however that the way of the emigrant is hard in order to reach the sea they had to go through germany to hamburg and a fearful journey it proved to be it was soon evident that the russians were not the only cruel people in the world the germans were just as cruel in strange and unusual ways and in a strange language they put the travelers in prison for which they had a queer name of course quarantine they called it they drove them like cattle into a most unpleasant place where their clothes were snatched off their bodies rubbed with an evil slippery substance and their breath taken away by an unexpected shower that suddenly descended on their helpless heads their precious bundles too were tossed about rudely and steamed and smoked as the poor victims sat wrapped in clouds of steam waiting for the final agony their clothes were brought back steaming like everything else and somebody cried quick quick or you will lose your train it seemed that they were not to be murdered after all but that this was just the german way of treating people whom they thought capable of carrying diseases about with them then came the 16 days on the big ship when maski was too ill part of the time even to think about america but there were better days when the coming of morning found her near the rail gazing at the path of light that led across the shimmering waves into the heart of the golden sky that way seemed like her own road ahead into the new life that awaited her the golden path really began at a boston public school here maski stood in her new american dress of stiff calico and gave a new american name to the friendly teacher of the primer class mary anton she was called from that day all superfluous foreign letters being dropped off forever as her father tried in his broken english to tell the teacher something of his hopes for his children mary knew by the look in his eyes that he too had a vision of the path of light the teacher also saw that glowing consecrated look and in a flash of insight comprehended something of his starved past and the future for which he longed in his effort to make himself understood he talked with his hands with his shoulders with his eyes beads of perspiration stood out on his earnest brow and now he dropped back helplessly into yiddish now into russian i cannot now learn what the world knows i must work but i bring my children they go to school for me i am american citizen i want my children be american citizens the first thing was of course to make a beginning with the new language afterward when mary anton was asked to describe the way the teacher had worked with her foreign class she replied with a smile i can't vouch for the method but the six children in my own particular group ranging in age from six to fifteen i was then twelve attacked the sea the cat and look at the hen pages of our primers with the keenest zest eager to find how the common world looked smelled and tasted in the strange speech and we learned there was a dreadful time over learning to say the without making a buzzing sound even mastering the v's and w's was not so hard as that it was indeed a proud day for mary anton when she could say we went to the village after water to her teacher's satisfaction how mary anton loved the american speech she had a native gift for language and gathered the phrases eagerly lovingly as one gathers flowers ever reaching for more and still more she said the words over and over to herself with shining eyes as the miser counts his gold soon she found that she was thinking in the beautiful english way when she had been only four months at school she wrote a composition on snow that her teacher had printed in a school journal to show this foreign child's wonderful progress in the use of the new tongue here is a bit of that composition now the trees are bare and no flowers are to see in the fields and gardens we all know why and the whole world seems like a sleep without the happy bird songs which left us till spring but the snow which drove away all these pretty and happy things try as i think not to make us at all unhappy they covered up the branches of the trees the fields the gardens and houses and the whole world looks like dressed in a beautiful white instead of green dress with the sky looking down on it with a pale face at the middle of the year the child who had entered the primer class in september without a word of english was promoted to the fifth grade she was indeed a proud girl when she went home with her big geography book making a broad foundation for all the rest of the pile which she loved to carry back and forth just because it made her happy and proud to be seen in company with books look at that pale hollow-chested girl with that load of books said a kindly passerby one day it is a shame the way children are overworked in school these days the child in question however would have had no basis for understanding the chance sympathy had she overheard the words her books were her dearest joy they were indeed in a very real sense her only tangible possessions all else was as yet the stuff that dreams are made of as she walked through the dingy sordid streets her glorified eyes looked past the glimpses of an unlovely life about her into a beautiful world of her own if she felt any weight from the book she carried it was just a comfortable reminder that this new mary antin and the new life of glorious opportunity were real when she climbed the two flights of stairs to her wretched tenement her soul was not soiled by the dirt and squalor through which she passed as she eagerly read not only her school history but also every book she could find in the public library about the heroes of america she did not see the moldy paper hanging in shreds from the walls or the grimy bricks of the neighboring factory that shut out the sunlight her look was for the things beyond the moment the things that really mattered how could the child feel poor and deprived when she knew that the city of boston was hers as she walked every afternoon past the fine dignified buildings and churches that flanked copely square to the imposing granite structure that held all her hero books she walked as a princess into her palace could she not read for herself the inscription at the entrance public library built by the people free to all now she stood and looked about her and said this is real this all belongs to these wide awake children these fine women these learned men and to me every nook of the library that was open to the public became familiar to her her eyes studied lovingly every painting and bit of mosaic she spent hours pondering the vivid pictures by abby that tell in color the mystic story of sir gala had and the quest of the holy grail and it seemed as if the spirit of all romance was hers she lingered in the gallery before sergeant's pictures of the prophets and it seemed as if the spirit of all the beautiful Sabbaths of her childhood stirred within her as echoes of the Hebrew Psalms awoke in her memory when she went into the vast reading room she always chose a place at the end where looking up from her books she could get the effect of the whole vista of splendid arches and earnest readers it was in the courtyard however that she felt the keenest joy here the child born in the prison of the pale realized to the full the glorious freedom that was hers the courtyard was my skyroofed chamber of dreams she said slowly strolling past the endless pillars of the colonnade the fountain murmured in my ear of all the beautiful things in all the beautiful world here i liked to remind myself of polots the better to bring out the wonder of my life the eye who was brought up to my teens almost without a book should be set down in the midst of all the books that ever were written was a miracle as great as any on record that an outcast should become a privileged citizen that a beggar should dwell in a palace this was a romance more thrilling than poet ever sung surely i was rocked in enchanted cradle as mary antons afternoons were made glorious by these visits to the public library so her nights were lightened by rare half hours on the south boston bridge where it crosses the old colony railroad as she looked down at the maze of tracks and the winking red and green signal lights her soul leaped at the thought of the complex world in which she lived and the wonderful way in which it was ordered and controlled by the mind of man years afterward in telling about her dreams on the bridge she said then the blackness below me was split by the fiery eye of a monster engine his breath enveloped me in blinding clouds his long body shot by rattling a hundred claws of steel and he was gone so would i be swift on my rightful business picking out my proper track from the million that cross it pausing for no obstacles sure of my goal can you imagine how the child from polis loved the land that had taken her to itself as she stood up in school with the other children and saluted the stars and stripes the words she said seemed to come from the depths of her soul i pledge allegiance to my flag and to the republic for which it stands one nation indivisible with liberty and justice for all those were not words they were heart throbs the red of the flag was not just a bright color it was the courage of heroes the white was the symbol of truth clear as the sunlight the blue was the symbol of the wide free heavens her spirit's fatherland the child who had been born in prison who had repeated at every Passover next year may we be in Jerusalem had found all at once her true country her flag and her heroes when the children rose to sing America she sang with all the pent up feeling of starved years of exile i love thy rocks and rills thy woods and temple hills as the teacher looked into the glorified face of this little alien citizen she said to herself there is the truest patriot of them all only once as they were singing land where my father's died the child's voice had faltered and died away her cheek paled when at the close of school she came to her teacher with her trouble oh teacher she mourned our country song can't to mean me my father's didn't die here the friendly teacher whose understanding and sympathy were never failing understood now mary antin she said earnestly looking through the child's great dark eyes into the depths of her troubled soul you have as much bright to those words as i or anybody else in america the pilgrim fathers didn't all come here before the revolution isn't your father just like them think of it dear how he left his home and came to a strange land where he couldn't even speak the language and didn't he come looking for the same things he wanted freedom for himself and his family and a chance for his children to grow up wise and brave it's the same story over again every ship that brings people from russia and other countries where they are ill treated is a mayflower these words took root in mary antin's heart and grew with her growth the consciousness that she was in very truth an american glorified her days it meant freedom from every prison seven years after her first appearance in the boston primer class she entered barnard college after two years there and two more at teachers college she entered the school of life as a homemaker her name is now mary antin grebao besides caring for her home and her little daughter she has devoted her gifts as a writer and a lecturer to the service of her country in her book the promised land she has told the story of her life from the earliest memories of her childhood in russia to the time when she entered college it is an absorbing human story but it is much more than that it is the story of one who looks upon her american citizenship as a great spiritual adventure and who strives to quicken in others a sense of their opportunities and responsibilities as heirs of the new freedom she pleads for a generous treatment of all those whom oppression and privation send to make their homes in our land it is only by being faithful to the ideal of human brotherhood expressed in the declaration of independence that our nation can realize this true destiny she warns us mary antin was recently urged to write a history of the united states for children that would give the inner meaning of the facts as well as a clear account of the really significant events i have long had such a work in mind she wrote and i suppose i shall have to do it someday in the meantime i talk history to my children my little daughter of eight and the russian cousin who goes to school in the kitchen only yesterday at lynching i told them about our system of representative government and our potatoes grew cold on our plates we were also absorbed in all that mary antin writes and in all that she says her faith in her country and her zeal for its honor shine out above all else to the new pilgrims who lived and suffered in other lands before they sought refuge in america as well as to those who can say quite literally land where my father's died she brings this message we must strive to be worthy of our great heritage as american citizens so that we may use wisely and well its wonderful privileges to be alive in america is to ride on the central current of the river of modern life and to have a conscious purpose is to hold the rudder that steers the ship of fate end of chapter seven recording by lanette caulkins monument colorado usa