There had never been a sewing society connected
with our church, and many doubts and misgivings
AND RECOLLECTIONS. 99
were expressed, on the part of the older members,
with regard to the feasibility of starting one. True,
the more cautious ones remarked that, other
churches in the village were prospering, and adding
much to their permanent fund, by the little weekly
income of the sewing society ; " but then," they
would always add, " they are more wealthy and
popular, and have an older organization than we
have." In the face of all these discouraging cir
cumstances I resolved to " try " what could be done,
by way of raising funds to start with. A young
lady of the choir, one with whom I had enjoyed an
intimate and pleasant acquaintance, offered to spend
one day with me, calling on various individuals,
soliciting aid to further our laudable enterprise. It
was one of those lovely sunny winter days, of which
there are but few in the year, the last day of 1839.
From early morn till dusky eve we labored assidu
ously with almost every family in the then small
parish. Our humble efforts were crowned with a
success far beyond our most flattering expectations.
With what a satisfaction we wended our way home,
with quick steps and light hearts, but heavy purses,
to report the trial of our experiment to anxious and
doubting friends. Thirteen dollars, all in silver,
was the amount of our precious treasure. As we
neared our homes, walking arm in arm up Factory
street, the last one we canvassed, talking over the
100 PERSONAL SKETCHES
wonderful adventures of the day, and our reception
by different individuals to whom we made known
our errand ; we both spoke of our happy lot in com
parison with some we had seen that day, as regards
health, friends and home, and all the nameless etcet
eras that go to make up the sum of human existence.
Humble and unpretending as our sphere in life was,
we concluded that but a few of our age, had enjoyed
a larger share of happiness than we had. "But
does the thought ever intrude itself, dear Jane," I
queried, " that the future may be dark and dreary,
and the friends who smile lovingly on us now, may
forsake and forget us ? " " Yes," said she, " the
future none can foretell. Ten years will, undoubt
edly bring to us many changes. If we live let us
write each other the last day of 1849." This pro
position I readily assented to, and as readily fulfilled
when the time arrived ; so did my friend. In her
letter she proposed that we both write again in ten
more years, the last day of 1859. That we also
did. For your espcial gratification, dear F., and the
want of more interesting matter, I enclose the
whole four letters. Mine will give you a hurried
outline of my future fortune, which I will fill up
more in detail, in subsequent epistles. The flattery
to myself, in my friend's letters you may skip.
AND RECOLLECTIONS. 101
Watertown, Monday, Dec. 31 st, 1849.
MY DEAR JANE : Ten years have rolled away
since two young and inexperienced girls, who were
no less personages than you and I, were walking
the streets of Watertown, calling on friends, old and
young, soliciting funds to commence a " sewing
society." We raised far more than the most san
guine of our friends had reason to expect. The
sequel has shown to us, that in our feeble efforts on
that memorable day, our time was well spent, for
that same society, then in its infancy, has, with the
well-plied needle alone, achieved wonders. They
have sent joy and gladness- t6 many a sad heart, in
their errands of mercy and benevolence, to the poor
and unfortunate, literally obeying the command of
their divine Teacher, in clothing the naked, feeding
the hungry, and visiting the sick. With the clear
eye of a beautiful Christian faith, they have searched
out the wretched and desolate, and, good Samaritan-
like, sent them on their way rejoicing. They have
also supplied their church with many necessary ap
pendages, paid off old debts, and, withal, contributed
very liberally to literary and benevolent institutions
abroad. Industry and perseverance has been their
motto from the commencement, and their reward
has been ten-fold, securing to themselves the well-
deserved appellation of " sisters of charity."
You, doubtless, remember, the promise we mutu
ally made on that day, to write each other in ten
years, and as the time, rapidly passing, has expired,
I seat myself to fulfil the engagement. In our
journey through life, we are constantly reminded of
fleetness of time, and in the alternate sunshine and
shadow that flit across our path, we may draw a les
son that is but a page in the history of the whole
human race. In this general historv what an end-
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102 PERSONAL SKETCHES
less variety of subjects! Poetry, tragedy, hopes,
fears, aspirations never realized, joys and tears,
riches and poverty, one vast medley,, which a few
more years will sweep into the ocean of the buried
past. As might be expected we have both met with
a great change, of circumstances in this short time
especially myself. Then, in the inexperience of
girlhood, we were strangers to care or want, but
various circumstances have combined to change the
scene. I have now the care of a family, which I
believe you are free from. I suppose you are one of
the many, who believe that the pleasures of domes
tic life can never compensate its attendant cares,
and who chooses to remain single. This, in many
instances, is really true, but in far the most, it is
otherwise. The past, neither of us can review with
out mingled feelings of joy and sorrow. With me,
however, the scenes around which " memory de
lights to linger," are much the most numerous, and
I trust this is also true of yourself. We have both
followed to the grave, the remains of a much loved
parent, who, we believe, has exchanged this life of
pain and trouble, for another, which has restored to
them infinitely more than they have lost. Were it
not for this faith in a blessed immortality, the loss
of friends would be truly insupportable ; but for one
who confidently believes in a risen Saviour, death
loses all its terrors and becomes a messenger of
peace. We, too, must soon be ready to obey his
call, for, at the longest time allotted to man on earth,
we shall see but three or four more tens of years
before we shall be with our parents who have gone
before us. Many others with whom we have person
ally mingled in the social circle, have gone the way
of all the earth, since we last met ; and still more
have absented themselves by marriage, and removals,
AND RECOLLECTIONS. 103
from our old places of resort and evening " gather
ings." Another set, however, have taken our places,
and so the world has ever moved, and ever will.
I believe I have heard you were living with your
sisters at C - . I suppose you enjoy life there
as well as formerly, and, perhaps, better. I expect
to receive a letter from you in a few days, according
to agreement, informing me of your whereabouts,
and many other things relative to yourself, which
will not fail of being interesting to me, for it is a
long time since we had the pleasure of meeting each
other. You have, probably, been informed of my
new location, but lest you may not have heard of
our removal, I will say, that we live on the old
homestead in W - . My husband's health is
so poor that he has been obliged to abandon the min
istry for the present, and try farming. My health
is excellent as it always has been. To-morrow we
have a little family party, it being the seventh anni
versary of our marriage, and the first of our little
daughter's birth. " Our child," of course, we
think, is the smartest and best one in the world.
Do not laugh at our folly, for all parents are just
like us in that respect. I will close by inviting you
to visit us in our new home at your earliest con
venience.
Yours, in much love.
E. M. A.
Carthage, Jan. 13A, 1850.
MY DEAR ELOISE : Think not, because I failed
to write you on the day appointed, that I had for
gotten you, or the promise we made to each other
long years ago, let us be where we would, or under
what circumstances we should hear from each other
in some way yes, I remembered it distinctly, and
104
PERSONAL SKETCHES
should have kept my faith, had I known where
you were, so I am sure of your forgiveness for my
negligence, and a hearty " better late than never,"
when you see from whom this comes, even if it docs
not arrive the first day of January, 1850. Well
can I bring to mind those two girls wending their
way from house to house, soliciting aid to raise
funds for a sewing society ; I am sure you will
agree with me in saying 'twas a very happy day to
both of us, for were we not young, gay and light-
hearted, free from care, and last, not least, we knew
we were doing our duty, and that always brings
happiness. How many changes these passing years
have brought to those two girls ; you are a wife and
a happy mother, and have a husband who loves you,
and likely appreciates your goodness of heart ;
although I have but a slight acquaintance with him,
please present my regards to him, and tell him I
trust it will not be long, ere he will regain his former
health, and once more be able " to do his Master's
will." It has in truth been many years since last
we met, and often, very often, have I thought of
Eloise and girlhood days. How little we then knew
of trouble, only in name ! and the joyous circle that
each evening brought together, we can never forget,
and can only remember them, as days fled never to
return. All who used to meet so cheerfully then,
in walks and visits, are filling different spheres, as
happy, I hope, as we mortals can well be, some to
preside over homes of their own, happy I dare say,
among loved ones.
Many of those, too, who once wended .their way to
the old church, have sought homes far from these
old haunts. I scarcely know twenty faces who now
worship there, for time's changes have passed over
AND RECOLLECTIONS. 105
all things there, as well as with us, and seats that
once held dear friends, are now occupied by stran
gers. I could not, if I tried, express the feelings I
experience when I enter our church. I never feel
at home, now, for I do not sing or join in any of the
exercises that used to afford me so much pleasure ;
they sing all new tunes there now, and those who
used to be our Sunday school scholars are the first
in the choir. I never go to church without shed
ding tears, for the loved faces are gone I used to
welcome, and the past seems like a sad dream.
I do live with my sister atC , and since S. was
married, almost five years. 'Tis a pleasant place and
a good home. Mother is here, too, but this Spring,
S. goes to keeping house, and then she will live with
her. I think she will like the change, for Water-
town to her, as well as myself, will always be home.
I am not married, and presume never shall be, not
for the want of chances, but other reasons ; I will
neither say I never loved, for that would be an un
truth. I have, E., " worshipped an idol and found
it clay," but to explain and tell you all the changes
with me, in the past ten years, would fill more than
this sheet of paper six times. I would much like to
visit you, and who knows but fate may yet bring us
once more together, to enjoy a right old-fashioned
visit. ***** A n d now good bye. May
angels guard you and yours. Ever thine until the
last day of 1859, when we shall hear from each
other again. J. "W.
Hopkinton, St. Law. Cy., N. Y.
December, 31s.
MY DEAR JANE : Yours of January 18th,
1850, was received in good time, and has been pre
served in remembrance of one who still holds a
106 PERSONAL SKETCHES
prominent place in my deeply-rooted friendships of
former days. The last sentence in your letter of ten
years ago, which is now before me, reads thus :
"Ever thine, until the last day of 1859, when we
shall hear from each other again." In accordance
with your suggestion, I now write you again. The
time has rapidly fled, and yet to me has come such
a multiplicity of changes, disappointments, labor
and care, I scarcely know how to choose words suffi
ciently brief to convey to you an idea of the varied
experience, through which I have passed during the
ten years that have gone the way of all past time,
since I last wrote you. I shall not attempt, in dhe
short letter, to enter into the details of my life, but
only give you an outline of some passing events.
It is hard to realize with what rapidity time flies,
and yet I know that ten springs have come upon the
wings of ten thousand warblers, and brought with
them the mild atmosphere, and buds, and tender
herbage, and that ten Summers have burst the buds
into blossoms, and freighted the air with their per
fumery, and that ten Autumns have matured their
fruits and grain, and delivered them into the hands
of the God of the harvest, and as many winters have
made their stormy way from Northland, and with
their killing frosts, have seared the green leaf, and
left the beautiful flowers all withered on the cold
ground. How fitly have the seasons been compared
to the different stages of human life. In that time
who has not wept over the grave of some buried
treasure, notwithstanding the beautiful and comfort
ing faith that we shall see them again, to perish no
more forever, where the affections bud and blossom
in the green pastures, and by the still waters of life
eternal. One dear and amiable sister has gone
from our large family circle, since I wrote you last,
AND EECOLLECTIONS. 107
Mrs. Lawson. She died, October 27th, 1854. Her
disease was cancer, and her illness lengthy and
painful. She died happy in her cherished faith, as
she had lived in the spirit of kindness to all, which
it teaches. I know we are apt to think our friends
are the best people in the world, especially those
called home by death. They are so to us, dear
Jane. We are no longer the unbroken band of
brothers and sisters. Blessed as she was in the
love of friends, we feel that she is infinitely more so
now.
My own family has all been spared, thus far, and
numbers only one more than it did ten years ago.
We have a son, nine years of age, who, with his
sister, sits at the table with me, eating raisins and
candy, that Santa Glaus left in their stockings last
night. The good old St. Nicholas visits our fireside
Christmas and New Year's. He will live long years
yet in the affections of Children, and his existence
is no more fabled than many other deities in Chris
tendom. To-morrow evening, they have a party in
honor of Marion's eleventh birth-day ; she was the
baby of a year old when I wrote you ten years
ago. We keep them both in school nearly all flie
time, and if they do not get an education it will
be their own fault.
We remained on the old home farm but two years,
and one year at Pillar Point near the shore of Black
River Bay. My lot has always been cast in pleasant
places, and this last one I have mentioned, was par
ticularly so ; a level surface of ground in sight of
Lake Ontario, where all water craft from an Indian
canoe up to the magnificent Steamer "Niagara,"
play like things of life, upon the bosom of the deep.
Seven years ago we left this beautiful place, and
came to Hopkinton, much against my inclination,
108 PERSONAL SKETCHES.
but with a better prospect, seemingly, of a home of
our own, so I reluctantly gave up all old associations,
and tried to make everything appear for the best,
and settled once more in a land of strangers. *' By
the rivers of Babylon we sat down, and wept when
we remembered Zion ! " I have lived here long
enough to learn that all the good people in the world
do not live in Watertown. Still, " my harp hangs
upon the willows," and I sigh for the companions of
my early youth.
After many losses and wrongs, struggles with
poverty and ill-health, with a little help from friends,
we have got a very comfortable home of our own,
and we have as many of the comforts of life as we
deserve, perhaps more ; though we feel as though it
had been hard earned.
Three years ago we were houseless and homeless,
except a lot of forty acres, without buildings or
water ; from that time till the present, I have
travelled and sold books. My success has been
much better than I expected, and I have begun to
reap the reward of my labors, awaiting the changes
of t the future. Write on the reception of this, if
you have not before, and give me a history of your
doings and changes in life.
Ever yours in love and good wishes,
E. M. A.
Milwaukee, Wis., Jan. 13^, 1860.
MY DEAR ELOISE : Your letter of Dec. 31st
I received last evening, forwarded from Carthage,
and I never was more pleased to hear from any one
I ever knew ; for can it be possible, ten years have
past since last we wrote each other ? and what is
more singular still, your letter came, so that I can
date mine the very day of the month I did ten years
AND RECOLLECTIONS. 109
ago ; I need not tell you how much your letter
interested me, for though I have always known by
the papers where your husband was located, still of
your fortune in worldly matters I knew nothing ;
and here let me say, none but you, Eloise, could
have done, and passed through the furnace hope
fully and cheerfully, and gamed what you have ;
but you possess the same indomitable perseverance
that belong to the whole family of Miles's. Now
I think the rest of your days you can enjoy, under
your "own vine and fig tree."
Until 1855, I lived at Carthage, as I had for
years before, going and coming when I pleased, and
where ; two winters I spent in New York with
Bell. Abbey Bucklin, you know her ; she is the
daughter of Dorus Abbey, who lost his life in the
patriot war in Canada, and your predecessor as
governess in the Woodruff family. And then Miss
B. of New York would spend a summer with me,
and so went time. S.'s husband, the Doctor, be
came a confirmed dyspeptic, and obliged to give up
his business, took it into his head, if he could only
go back to his native place, W ville, he should
soon be well again. After shedding bottles of tears,
S. consented to part with her beautiful home in
Watertown, and go among strangers ; had she
thought 'twould be of any benefit to the Doctor,
she would have gone without a murmur. He
bought a pleasant place in "W ville and we all
moved there the 5th of May, '55. Ma had a shock
of paralysis and I went to take care of her, which
I was glad to do. I like to think back to those
days, for I never took so much comfort with my
mother before, for you know she was always such a
worker. She lived till the 25th of August, 1857,
and then went home, and was so glad to go. She
10
110 PERSONAL SKETCHES-
had been worse, seemingly, a thousand times, than
at her last sickness ; she died of consumption.
Until the day before her death, I never dreamed she
was going to die then. S. and her husband were
on an excursion to the White Mountains, and did
not return until the day before her death. She
wished always to be taken back to Watertown and
placed by the side of father, and we did so. * *
Dr. "W. is dead ; going back to his old home did
not prolong his life. You recollect W. F. S., don't
you ? I was married to him in October, 1858, and
live in Milwaukee. The west does not agree with me.
I have the ague and fever, and am as thin as a
shad. I'll get used to the climate after a while.
This is a beautiful day, just snow enough and not
cold in this lovely city. M. sent the envelope to
your letter, so I could see my old name ; there, I
believe I have told you all of my whereabouts up
to 1860. So good-by, dear Eloise, till ten more years
of changes come. Shall we live till then ? If we
do we shall be old women, but not in heart.
Yours ever, JENNIE S.
LETTER XV.
How our Sewing Society prospered, and what it has accomplished
Church burned and a new one erected on its site Family School
at Mr. Woodruff's Extract from a letter from my brother
The Woodruff Family The Woodruff House Riches and
Poverty Happy Families Reminescence of a poor widow
Faith in the promises of God, the most enduring riches.
MY DEAR F :
The weekly meetings of our sewing society
brought large circles of happy friends together,
both old and young, and our first investment of
cash, which was for cloth to make into shirts, bed-
quilts, &c., was soon, by our handiwork, converted
into garments. A little stocking yarn was pur
chased, for " knitting work " for old ladies, and
everything went off charmingly. Two or three of
the more " knowing ones " were appointed a com
mittee by the society, to frame a constitution and
by-laws, which were stricfly adhered to ; and the
proceedings of each meeting were put on record by
the Secretary, also the receipt and expenditures,
and a report made of the whole to every meeting.
The first sales of garments, together with the week-
112 PERSONAL SKETCHES
ly tax of members, and voluntary contributions from
various quarters more than doubled the stock, be
sides leaving a number of quilts made of old cloth,
that were given to poor families in the village, out
side the parish. Our efforts to succeed were untir
ing, and we were especially anxious on the subject,
as many were faltering and doubtful in the outset.
With constant accessions to our numbers, came an
increase of business. Young men employed us to
do their sewing, and before winter was gone, one
wholesale clothing establishment furnished us with
all we could do. Thus they advanced from one step
to another, until the avails of their labor purchased
carpets, curtains and lamps, and all necessary church
furniture ; but to give you a correct idea of all
their doings, would take more time and space than
I have, and exhaust your patience to read it. Suf
fice it to say, that after a lapse of more than twenty
years, the sewing society is still in successful opera
tion, and they have had many fairs and festivals,
and I believe it no exaggeration to state that the
avails of their labor have amounted to several
thousand dollars. During this time, their church
edifice has been destroyed by fire, in a conflagration
that swept away more than half the business part
of the village ; and on the site, a new church has
been erected at a cost of more than twelve thousand
dollars, of which, three hundred was contributed
from their treasury.
AND RECOLLECTIONS. 113
For two years from this time, I was in a family
school in Watertown Village, with the exception of
one term of absence, teaching in Champion Village ;
during the second summer, I was about to accept a
proposal to teach a district school in a neighboring
county, which, in a pecuniary point of view, would
have been decidedly to my advantage ; but the fol
lowing extract from a letter from my brother, who
was keeping a book-store in the village, received
while on a visit to my parents, will show you what
inducements I had to change my plans. " You have
doubtless been informed ere this, that Mrs. N. M.
Woodruff wishes to engage you in her house as a
governess for her five youngest children, and offers
you one dollar per week for teaching her five
youngest children for four hours a day only. Now,
all that I am afraid of is, that you have engaged to
go to Pinkney. You will not, will you, let the
larger wages offered there induce you to go, with
out your engagement is absolutely positive with
them ? The bearer of this has gone up on purpose
to induce you to accept Mrs. "VV's offer. You will,
of course, act your own pleasure, but I hope you
will come. You will have all the advantages of the
superior society here, and certainly have an easy
task. Besides, think of the many leisure hours,
in which you can read and study, and almost every
week a scientific lecture, and church every Sab-
10*
114 PERSONAL SKETCHES
bath." In a few days, I found myself located in
my new home under as advantageous circum
stances as had been represented to me, and as
pleasant a situation as heart could wish. Their
residence was on Arsenal Street, a few doors from
the American Hotel. Here, I did not have an idle
hour, for I knew how to do almost any kind of
fancy work, as well as useful sewing. As steady as
my labor was, but so frequently spiced with re
creation, and opportunities of acquiring useful
knowledge, and such an endless variety of exciting
subjects were crowded in my way, that time flew
with an astonishing rapidity. The family of which
I was a member, was a pleasant and good one, and
all seemed to enjoy life well, generally, with the