THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 
 
 AUTOBIOGKAPHY 
 
 OF 
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 
 
 "While others gaze on Nature's face. 
 The verdant vale, the mountains, woods and streams, 
 Or with delight ineffable survey 
 The Sun, bright image of this parent God ; 
 Whilst others 'view Heaven's all-involving arch, 
 Bright witn nnnumber'd worldg, and lost in joy, 
 Fair order and utility behold. 
 To me those fair vicissitudes are lost. 
 And grace and beauty blotted from my view." 
 
 DB. TUOMAB BLACKLOCK 
 
 REVISED 
 BY 
 
 SARA S. RICE. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 FEINTED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 
 
 1878.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873 X 
 by MAKY A. NIEMEYEU, in the office of the Librarian of 
 Congress, at Washington.
 
 HV 
 
 )(*z 
 
 /V5SA3 
 
 W TO 
 
 GEO. B. COLE, Esq., 
 
 SHIPPEXSBURG, PA. 
 
 "3 
 
 As the fragrance of a flower lingers long in the air, so 
 
 ^ does the remembrance of a generous friendship fill the 
 
 heart with its beauty. Into a lot that is shrouded in 
 darkness, the light of kindness falls as welcome as the 
 early gleams of the morning sun, making all things 
 bright. 
 
 As a tribute of high esteem and grateful appreciation 
 of practical effort to illume her shadowed way, this book 
 J is respectfully dedicated to her friend. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 456728
 
 PKEFACE. 
 
 GENTLE READER : It is not supposed you have opened 
 this book to read, expecting to find rare intellectual 
 pleasure, or the gratification of any sense of thrilling 
 romance. "Were this so, its lids should at once be closed, 
 and its very name forgotten. It is a life-history, not 
 startling in any degree, but its object has been to show, 
 though He afflict, how good God is. Truly there has 
 been light in darkness all the way along. We have hoped 
 to serve His cause in the lessons drawn even from the 
 small events of life, and we trust the modest messenger 
 may bear some note of cheer to hearts that have known 
 earthly sorrow, and enliven, perhaps, for an evening fire- 
 side hour, the gathered family group.
 
 f ijt in 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARY A. NIEMEYER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " There is a land of every land the pride, 
 Beloved by Heaven o'er all the world beside." 
 
 Montgomery. 
 
 " Breathes there a man with soul so dead, 
 Who never to himself hath said, 
 This is my own, my native land ! " 
 
 Scott. 
 
 In the village of Deisel, about twenty-four 
 miles from the city of Cassel, Germany, the 
 subject of this biography was born. Here her 
 eyes first greeted the light of day ; first saw 
 ^Nature robed in her varied mantles, green in 
 the early Springtime, sun-tinged and yellow in 
 the strong Summer season ; brown, red and 
 sere in the sombre Autumn ; and snow-white 
 when Winter had folded the blossoms of flower 
 and fruit away in his bosom, there to sleep till
 
 10 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 awakened to life and vigor again by the return- 
 ing Spring. 
 
 A brief description of this quiet village, 
 nestled as it is beneath the wing of the better 
 known and farther famed city of Cassel, may 
 not be uninteresting. It is inhabited princi- 
 pally by farmers, its population numbering 
 between two and three thousand people. 
 While the pursuits are mostly agricultural, as 
 in all other villages, various occupations afford 
 a livelihood to the residents. 
 
 The streets are regularly laid out, and are 
 kept neat and clean. The dwellings are large 
 and comfortable, with gardens and orchards 
 attached. The Reformed is the prevailing 
 religious belief. There is but one Church in 
 the place; this is very large and built in 
 Gothic style. It is noted for its chime of bells, 
 well known to the villagers, and loved by 
 them for their sweetly falling cadences or 
 swelling notes, pealing fortli on the Sabbath 
 morning air, calling them to worship within 
 the sacred temple. 
 
 The organ, with the characteristic love of 
 good music, peculiar to the Germans as a 
 nation, is of course superior in volume and 
 quality of tone, capable, as a consequence, of
 
 MART A. NIEMEYER. 11 
 
 producing both strength and delicacy of 
 expression. The Germans revel in music, 
 either sacred or otherwise, and Sabbath 
 or week days, it constitutes a part of their 
 enjoyment. 
 
 The services are always well attended. The 
 children of the village day school, both boys 
 and girls, occupy the galleries, near the organ, 
 and their sweet voices blend in rich and com- 
 plete harmony with the fuller and deeper tones 
 of the instrument, making a glad gush of 
 melody, inspiring to both heart and brain of 
 the oldest worshipper, and bringing back may- 
 hap in full tide a rush of happy memories of 
 times, when voices now cracked and shrill, were 
 equally clear and ringing. 
 
 The Church is open for service twice every 
 Sabbath, morning and afternoon. Very neat 
 and trim the villagers look, as in their best 
 attire they wend their way to the House of 
 God. They remember the command, " Six 
 days shalt thou labor and do all thy work: 
 but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord 
 thy God : in it thou shalt not do any work.'' 
 They are devout in their bearing, and hallow 
 this day of days as one of God's greatest bless- 
 ings to man.
 
 12 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 There is also a large and well-arranged 
 school house in the village. The school is 
 divided into two departments: first, the pri- 
 mary, where the children remain three years, 
 and are instructed in the rudiments of educa- 
 tion. Then follows a higher department, 
 where the full course is five years. Here a 
 finished and even elegant education may be 
 obtained, and the student may graduate with 
 justly earned honors. The industrious become 
 highly creditable in their scholastic attain- 
 ments, as they have every facility afforded 
 them. Their graduation, however, renders 
 incumbent upon them early confirmation to 
 the Reformed Church, catechetical instruction 
 having been part of their education. The 
 children are trained in the religious views of 
 their parents, and are not so likely to wander 
 off and become members of other denomina- 
 tions as soon as they arrive at maturitv. 
 Ties are more closely knit if a whole family 
 worship in one way. Divided religious sen- 
 timent is perhaps more potent than any other 
 Influence in separating the interests and affec- 
 tions of a home circle. It is a rock, 'flower 
 crowned it may be, still one that has wrecked 
 many a household bark.
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEE. 13 
 
 The country surrounding the village is ex- 
 ceedingly beautiful. A stretch of landscape 
 most pleasing to the beholder and refreshing 
 to the senses, is spread out, with lavish beauty 
 decked. The public roads leading to this open 
 land are very wide. They are also well shaded 
 by fine trees planted in rows on each side of 
 the road. Thus avenues are formed, in which 
 it is delightful to stroll during the warm Sum- 
 mer weather. 
 
 Travel is mostly on foot. In order to afford 
 comfort and rest to the pedestrian, neat and 
 inviting arbors are stationed all along the way, 
 at the distance of about a mile apart. Thus 
 the fatigue of a long walk is obviated; and 
 what might otherwise be attended with dis- 
 comfort, is made pleasurable and inviting. 
 The healthful exercise of walking is much 
 indulged in, and doubtless has its influence in 
 preventing any dyspeptic tendency among the 
 people. With these arbors in which to rest if 
 weary, one cannot wonder at this habit of the 
 villagers. They are indeed charming spots, 
 where the traveller may be screened from the 
 heat of the noonday sun. Or children in their 
 gambols and heyday play, may find in them 
 refuge from the sudden storm, threatening dis- '
 
 14: AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 may, were it not for these wayside shelterers. 
 But as they know these safe retreats are near 
 at hand, they fearlessly anticipate the storm, 
 ready to escape to their refuge at the first vivid 
 flash of the lightning in zigzag lines athwart 
 the sky ; or at the low muttered roll of the 
 thunder's distant voice. 
 
 The country is beautifully diversified with 
 hills and valleys, green fields and meadows, 
 and one can but admire the panorama of 
 beauty spread out before them. Not least 
 among the natural attractions, are the hedges 
 of various kinds enclosing the fields. These 
 bloom the greater part of the year form- 
 ing bright borders of many hues, and giv- 
 ing the whole country a fresh and lovely 
 appearance. 
 
 The village is a busy, bustling place. Activ- 
 ity and diligence are everywhere apparent. 
 No signs of sloth and indolence are visible. 
 Each morning the farmer may be seen driving 
 his cattle through the streets, and bearing his 
 farming implements and other necessary uten- 
 sils out to the fields, that are to be tilled, or 
 sown, or reaped. "With glad face and hopeful 
 heart he goes forth, for he knows labor will bring 
 its own reward. The fields are spread before
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 15 
 
 him, and wait but his diligent hand " to laugh 
 in harvest." Other workmen, too, may be 
 Been engaged in their various occupations, but 
 all equally evidencing good will and strong 
 purpose, that must overcome every obstacle, 
 and in the end secure solid advantage. 
 
 This is no fancy sketch. This modest little 
 village is all I have pictured it a thriving, 
 prosperous place and the sturdy enterprise of 
 its people, of course, makes it what it is. God 
 gives man his opportunity, he must use it if he 
 would not have his life a failure. He must 
 toil, " must earn his bread by the sweat of his 
 brow," or sink to the level of the brute that 
 browses on the plain ; or lower still, to that of 
 the creature that needs not the soft grass for a 
 couch, but takes a bed whose miry consistence 
 suits best his grovelling nature. Labor is a 
 God-like principle. It lifts man nearer hi? 
 iirst and lost estate. It makes a second Eder 
 of the earth in which we live. It always 
 brings with it sweet recompense, slumber to 
 the weary, hope to the downcast, and every 
 blessing the largest desire could demand. If 
 we have nobly striven in our sphere, whatever 
 it may be, we may surely expect " after life's 
 fitful fever," when death heaves in view,
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 " To approach the grave 
 Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
 About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams." 
 
 With its people occupied in various ways, 
 some off in the fields, others in their homes, 
 Deisel during the day presents a deserted 
 appearance. The streets are quiet, the houses 
 closed, even the children are not heard. But 
 when evening comes on, and the farmers return 
 from the fields, the workmen from their shops, 
 the wives and mothers have finished their daily 
 domestic employments, and the children are 
 out of school, the scene is a most lively one. 
 The streets are cheerful, doors and windows 
 are open, and the merry sound of happy voices 
 falls on the ear, and the village seems as "for 
 a feast arrayed." 
 
 The people are lively and fond of music. 
 They spend their evenings in social gatherings. 
 Singing is one of their chief enjoyments. They, 
 however, have other amusements, for they are 
 a pleasure-loving people, and games of various 
 kinds are participated in by both old and 
 young. This is a delightful way to close the 
 day. All care is forgotten in the evening, and 
 mirth and jollity reign supreme. 
 
 The climate is salubrious and healthful.
 
 MAEY A. NIEMEYER. 17 
 
 This, added to their thrifty, prudent habits, 
 makes the inhabitants sturdy and vigorous. 
 You seldom meet a man, woman or child, 
 whose cheek is not mantled with the rosy blush 
 of health. There is generally no resident 
 physician in the place, for the simple and very 
 satisfactory reason, his services are too seldom 
 required to afford one even a moderate amount 
 of occupation, and, of course, no sufficient 
 compensation could be secured to ensure a 
 livelihood. Hence, Dame Nature is her chil- 
 dren's almoner of healing draughts, and her 
 cures are oftener attained than are those of 
 some more modern modes of treatment. She, 
 at least, is not a quack, and suggests no aston- 
 ishing remedy as panacea for all the woes of 
 humankind. She is a physician, good and 
 true, who, her laws observed, gives in exchange 
 health and long life. But do her laws violence, 
 throw aside her simple teachings for those 
 higher sounding in their unintelligible terms, 
 and naught but woe and sore distress will fol- 
 low ; a life made up of ills, for which there is 
 no redress this side the grave. 
 
 In Deisel the women are famous for their 
 industry. They are not idle even in their
 
 18 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 hours of relaxation; but generally are like 
 good old John Gilpin's wife 
 
 " Who, though on pleasure she was bent, 
 She had a frugal mind." 
 
 You see them constantly with knitting in 
 their hands, diligently plying the swiftly flying 
 needles, till the well-knit hose, the tidy neck 
 comforter, or the warm winter hood, is wrought. 
 In their walks, too, it is no uncommon thing to 
 see them thus employed, destroying perhaps 
 to some extent the teaching of the old and long 
 accepted maxim, " One cannot do well any 
 two things at a time."
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEK. 19 
 
 CHAPTEK II. 
 
 "Why is the hearse with 'scutcheons blazoned round, 
 And with nodding plumes of ostrich crowned ? 
 
 Gay's Trivia. 
 
 "I do love these ancient ruins: 
 We never tread upon them, but we set 
 Our foot upon some rev'rend history. 
 
 Webster's Duches* of Malfy. 
 
 " Heigh ho ! daisies and buttercups, 
 Fair yellow daffodils, stately and tall 
 A sunshiny world full of laughter and leisure, 
 And fresh hearts unconscious of sorrow and thrall." 
 
 Jean Ingdow. 
 
 "The fading many-colored woods, 
 Shade deep'ning over shade, the country round 
 Imbrown." 
 
 Jos. Tlumson. 
 
 The customs of Deisel are, in some respects, 
 peculiar to itself, and in a degree individualize 
 the otherwise not remarkable place. Funerals 
 have here some features not elsewhere observed. 
 The authorities require the corpse to be retained 
 in the house three days before burial. This is 
 to determine beydnd a doubt if life is really
 
 20 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 extinct, and to give the apparently lifeless 
 form every possible chance of revivification. 
 The people have a superstitious horror of bury- 
 ing a friend alive, and take every precaution 
 to prevent so sad a catastrophe. If the pulse 
 be surely still in death, if every means have 
 failed to restore animation, they further pro- 
 ceed to prepare the remains for interment. 
 The body is placed in a coffin ; if the deceased 
 were less than twenty-five years of age, the 
 coffin is decorated with plumes, ribbons and 
 flowers ; if over twenty-five years, it is draped 
 with heavy black cloth, on which are inscribed 
 verses of Scripture, in gilt letters, the sentiment 
 appropriate to the event commemorated. 
 
 Singing funerals are those occasions, where 
 plaintive music depicts the virtues of the dead 
 and the sorrow of the living. These are 
 observed only in memory of grown persons. 
 The teachers and scholars of the village school 
 are well trained in vocal music. They assem- 
 ble at the house where the funeral is to take 
 place, and the singing obsequies are conducted 
 entirely ,by them. Several hymns, dirge-like 
 and sad, are sung at the house; after which 
 the minister offers a prayer. Then the musi- 
 cians, friends and mourners, form a procession,
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 21 
 
 and walk, carrying the remains, to the ceme- 
 tery. The teachers and scholars lead, singing 
 as they ^,0 a low, sweet melody, in memory of 
 the dead. Behind them are six men, the pall- 
 bearers. They bear on their shoulders the 
 coffin. Next, the relatives and friends of the 
 deceased, clad in mourning, and bewailing the 
 loss of their loved one, move slowly forward. 
 
 The burial ground is about a quarter of a 
 mile from the village. When it is reached the 
 body is lowered into the grave. All the while 
 the music has continued. The bells have been 
 tolling, and the scene is altogether a most 
 impressive one. The ceremony of interment 
 over, the company wend their way to the 
 church. There a sermon is delivered. The 
 virtues of the departed are recounted, and a 
 lesson is drawn for the living. 
 
 Once more all meet at the house where the 
 funeral took place. This time they assemble 
 to partake of a repast prepared for the occasion. 
 Thus it is, life with death is blended. We 
 mourn and weep, but ere long forget the pall 
 and shroud and last adieu. We soon recall 
 but dimly amid the bustle of the world's ongo- 
 ing, the friend we have lost. This may be 
 well. It would not be best for us to brood too
 
 22 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 long or deeply over our sorrow. We owe 
 duties to the living and must put our grief 
 aside, that we may be able to fufil them. 
 There is comfort for hearts that are bowed 
 down, in the thought that, although there is a 
 time for sighing, there cometh also a season for 
 rejoicing. To-night may be dark, to-mor- 
 row, radiant with light, so checkered is our 
 way. 
 
 Another custom peculiar to Deisel is the 
 dedication of the dwellings. When a new 
 house is finished, the villagers collect, form a 
 procession, and pass through the streets, headed 
 by two young men carrying a bush. This bush 
 is trimmed with wreaths, boquets and ribbons. 
 Six young girls follow dressed in gay colors, 
 crowned with flowers, and holding boquets in 
 their hands. Following these again are the 
 men, women and children of the village, all 
 singing songs suitable to the occasion. When 
 the house is reached, the bush is placed upon 
 the roof and securely fastened there. This is 
 a fanciful house crowning, it is true, but is 
 symbolic in its usage. Songs and speeches are 
 in order, and a festive time is made of it. A 
 dinner follows, and every delicacy tempts the 
 palate. The idea of thus introducing into a
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEK. 23 
 
 new dwelling mirth and gladness, is surely an 
 excellent one. Were such genii more fre- 
 quently to preside in our homes, clouds would 
 not settle on the domestic horizon, but would 
 drift away, leaving no trace behind them. 
 There is a good and kindly sentiment in the 
 custom, and a dash of poetry beside. 
 
 When passing through the forests in this 
 part of Germany, one can but observe the 
 unusual appearance of the soil. It has every 
 indication of having been, at some remote 
 period, cultivated. The wanderer will also 
 meet with relics of a bygone time in the ruins 
 of ancient castles; their demolished walls and 
 dilapidated towers reminding only of a glory 
 past, and causing the thoughtful to pause and 
 ponder on the mutability of all mere earthly 
 greatness, how surely it must crumble into 
 waste and nothingness. 
 
 There are also scattered ruins of towns, 
 which probably had been destroyed by war 
 hundreds of years ago, and which are now only 
 to be recognized in these vestiges of their former 
 selves. This is the acme of all human history, 
 to rise, flourish for a day, then to pass away, 
 giving place to another busy, bustling scene of 
 action, and leaving to others the parts in life's
 
 24: AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 drama, some may have vainly fancied they 
 could best perform. It is well we are not left 
 to our own discretion as to our ability to do, or 
 our worthiness to be considered ; for were we 
 so left, we should make grave errors. It is 
 therefore wisest that all our changes are chosen 
 for us. 
 
 There comes welling up from my heart a 
 full tide of tender, cherished memories, as I 
 thus recall the characteristics of my childhood's 
 home, and I can but linger among these scenes 
 of my youth. To sketch them in all their 
 varied beauty, would be a task quite beyond 
 my feeble pen ; but if words, warm from a lov- 
 ing heart, can fitly portray these visions of a 
 day that is fled, I shall at least secure kindly 
 sympathy from those who may with me visit 
 the land that gave me birth, and the home 
 where first I learned to lisp a mother's name. 
 Gentle reader, you and I are children again. 
 We will bask in the sunshine together, listen 
 to the carol of the summer birds, see mirrored 
 in the crystal brook our laughing eyes and 
 health crowned cheeks; for not then had my 
 sky been darkened, not even a misty cloud hud 
 shown itself; I looked upon Nature and saw 
 her loveliness, with no thought of a future with-
 
 MAET A. NIEMEYEB. 25 
 
 out a ray from sun or moon or star, to illumine 
 it. I little thought then that ere many years 
 had fled, the sight of all external objects would 
 be lost to me. But we will leave the shadows 
 for the present, and luxuriate in the bright and 
 beautiful. 
 
 In the village of Deisel the season of Spring 
 seemed especially delightful. Children might 
 be seen constantly in merry groups, gathering 
 flowers, the spontaneous product of the soil; 
 for verily the hills, meadows, dales, hedges and 
 banks of streamlets, were covered with every 
 variety of floral growth. Beautiful blossoms 
 of all forms and colors, some appearing so 
 choice and delicate, one would suppose they 
 needed the most careful culture, sprang unbid- 
 den from the earth. They looked with tender 
 eyes, soft and blue, or with blushes deeper than 
 of crimson dye, from verdant beds up into our 
 faces, with a greeting in their own, and breathed 
 on the welcoming air a fragrance entrancing to 
 the senses. 
 
 I often fancy even now, though years hare 
 passed since these scenes were spread before 
 me, that I am again with my little companions, 
 plucking these beautiful flowers, filling our 
 aprons with them, tossing some aloft, to see 
 3
 
 26 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 them scatter their delicate petals and fall to 
 the earth, shorn of their loveliness. Then we 
 are trying to see if butter is loved, by placing 
 the saucy buttercup under the chin, or having 
 a wild hunt for a lady's slipper, seeking the 
 modest daisy, wherewith to make a chain to 
 entrap some wanderer from elf-land ; running 
 about to search for a desolate bachelor's button, 
 or perhaps hiding away a Sweet William, to 
 see if the fairies would send a prince by that 
 name to woo some fair Cinderella, with her 
 pumpkin coach and slipper of glass. 
 
 Thus we revelled among the flowers till 
 Autumn, with its nuts and berries, came. 
 Then we sped to the woods and loaded ourselves 
 with the toothsome things, and brought them 
 home as trophies to our mothers, who carefully 
 stowed them away for "Winter's fireside enjoy- 
 ment. 
 
 During the seasons of Spring, Summer, and 
 ofttimesfar into the Autumn, the public pleasure 
 gardens, situated a short distance from the vil- 
 lage, are favorite resorts for the people. They 
 are laid out in walks, with flower Jbeds and 
 vine-covered arbors scattered here and there. 
 The amusements are music and dancing. These 
 are participated in by persons f all ages, and
 
 MAKY A. NIEMEYER. 27 
 
 for a few hours of each evening everybody is 
 seeking recreation. Refreshment can be had 
 at a small cost, which aids in making these 
 gardens almost social in their character. 
 
 The seasons over admitting outdoor pleas- 
 ures, and the winter, with its frosts and chilling 
 winds, making the fireside attractive, the young 
 men and women gather at each other's houses. 
 They bring their spinning wheels with them, 
 for flax is one of the principal products of this 
 part of Germany. The evening hours are 
 spent in chat and song, intermingled with the 
 steady whirring of the busy wheel. Children 
 at the age of nine and ten years can spin as 
 well as some grown persons. Time flies swiftly 
 and agreeably, mirth and industry filling the 
 hours. Thrift is made attractive, and becomes 
 characteristic of the people. And often too at 
 such times a certain sly little god, with bow 
 and arrow ready to command, forms one of the 
 number in these assemblies, and other threads 
 are spun than those that wind out in lengthen- 
 ing line from the steadily turning wheel. 
 Heart and foot and hand keep time until a 
 web of life is formed, and the sly god, with 
 emptied quiver, laughs at the mischief he has 
 done.
 
 28 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 "Life is from Thee, blessed Father, 
 
 From Thee our breathing spirits; 
 And Thou dost give to all that live 
 The bliss that each inherits." 
 
 R. Ware, Jr. 
 
 "Thou art the victor, Death! 
 Thou comest, and where is that which spoke 
 From the depths of the eye, when the bright soul woke? 
 Gone with the flitting breath ! 
 
 Felicia Hemans. 
 
 My parents and grandparents were born in 
 Deisel. My parents were companions at school. 
 At the age of fourteen they were confirmed at 
 the same altar. When eighteen years old, my 
 father went to the military school. He re- 
 mained there five years as student, and a year 
 and a half as officer. He would have remained 
 longer, but being the eldest son, was needed at 
 home to assist his father, who was engaged in 
 farming, and who was also carrying on exten- 
 sively the boot and shoe business. 
 
 Upon his return, the early friendship, which 
 had existed between my father and mother 
 when children, was renewed. The feeling
 
 MAEY A. NIEMEYER. 29 
 
 ripened into a strong attachment, and they 
 were married in a short time. 
 
 My mother was the youngest child of her 
 parents ; so, according to the usage of the 
 country, my father went to reside at her home. 
 The old homestead was given up to them, my 
 grand parents living with them. Shortly after 
 her marriage, my mother's father died, full of 
 years, and ripe for the tomb. A life well spent 
 brought with its close no unavailing regrets. 
 
 I have frequently heard my mother speak 
 of his death as the calmest she had ever wit- 
 nessed. During the day on which he died, he 
 was more composed than usual. With perfect 
 resignation he told his family he should not 
 see the dawn of another day. "When they 
 tried to persuade him this impression was only 
 a fancy, he insisted that they would find he 
 was correct, and that ere the day had passed 
 he should be no more. 
 
 He besought all his family to be faithful to 
 their God; to serve Him diligently; to lead 
 noble, honorable lives, doing all the good within 
 their power while in the world, that when 
 death should come, they could sink peacefully 
 to rest, with no remorse to make bitter their 
 last hours. He urged those near and dear to
 
 30 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 him on earth to meet him in heaven. He then 
 in failing accents, murmured the touching lines: 
 
 "Earthly home, adieu, adieu, 
 Earthly friends, farewell to you 
 Softly breathe your last good-bye, 
 Jesus calls me, let me die." 
 
 The cold sweat of death had settled on his 
 brow, his voice grew inarticulate, and the 
 spirit fled to the God who gave it. 
 
 A few months later my grandmother died. 
 She missed the strong arm she had leaned 
 up.on, and followed in a little while her hus- 
 band. Death did not sunder them long. God 
 was very good, and took her to Himself. Earth 
 had no charms for her, separated from K : m by 
 whose side she had stood in sunshine and &torm 
 for many years. She rejoiced as she neared 
 the swelling tide of Jordan's waves, and with 
 a bright smile on her face she passed away. It 
 seemed as though she had had a greeting from 
 the heavenly land, ere with folded hands she 
 fell asleep never to waken more. These were 
 cherished memories with my mother, and she 
 often told us of the last days of our, grand- 
 parents. It was her earnest desire so to end 
 her life, calmly, peacefully, yet full of a blissful 
 hope beyond the grave.
 
 MART A. KIEMEYER. 
 
 31 
 
 At the time of these occurrences I was an 
 infant of fifteen months. My grandparents 
 were dotingly fond of me. My grandmother 
 watched over me with unceasing care. I was 
 very delicate, and she feared the frail babe 
 might let go her slender hold on life. Over 
 and over again have these things been told me, 
 till I have almost thought I myself knew them 
 to be facts. 
 
 My father's mother died in middle life, and in 
 a few years my grandfather married again. The 
 lady who became his second wife had been the 
 belle of the village. She was very attractive 
 in personal appearance. She was devoted to 
 fashion and gaiety. Her heart seemed wholly 
 given up to worldly pleasure. Her tastes were 
 extravagant, and she indulged them to the 
 utmost. My grandfather married this lady after 
 an acquaintance of six months. He lost sight 
 of the disparity between their modes of living, 
 and did not appear to be aware of her frivolity 
 of character. His children regretted the step 
 he had taken. They concluded to leave home. 
 My father was the eldest of seven children, 
 and had been some time married. My grand- 
 father's second marriage did not affect his 
 domestic happiness, as he was not living with
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 his father. But the other children felt keenly 
 the change in their home. 
 
 After a few weeks' wedding tour, the newly 
 married couple returned to find themselves the 
 Bole occupants of the house. Grandfather 
 had not expected this ; but his children refused 
 to call his wife mother ; nor would they endure 
 to see her take their mother's place. They 
 requested that some provision by which they 
 could make a livelihood, should be made for 
 them. They had resolved to seek a home else- 
 where. The old homestead had now no charm 
 for them. Its light had fled ; the steady light 
 of maternal love had gone out, not to be rekin- 
 dled. Their father acceded to their wishes. 
 Five of the family settled in the neighboring 
 towns. One sailed for America, to try the 
 experiences of a new country. My father only 
 remained in the village. 
 
 Thus a family was scattered, and those fondly 
 attached were separated, never again to form 
 an unbroken household. The providence was 
 inscrutable. Life's cup may be filled to the 
 brim with sweets, yet contain one bitter drop. 
 Our lots may have much of joy in them, but 
 there will lurk in each some sorrow. It is the 
 world's great lesson, which all humanity must
 
 MART A. NIEMEYER. 33 
 
 learn. To us remains only resignation. "We 
 must unmurmuringly submit to circumstances 
 and dispensations beyond our control. Sooner 
 or later all must accept this truth, for we hold 
 not the issues of a single moment. To us life 
 is mystery, but there is One who knoweth every 
 hidden thing, and in His own good time He 
 will reveal. 
 
 My father and mother were very comfortably 
 situated. Our family group was a happy one* 
 The merry ring of childish laughter dispelled 
 all gloom. My mother was cheerful and con- 
 tented. She strove to instil into our young 
 minds lessons of truth, obedience, and love. 
 She guided our feeble, tottering footsteps, with 
 all a mother's watchfulness. After the toil of 
 the day was over, and father came home, we 
 had a joyous time. Care was forgotten, and 
 he became a child again, and played every sort 
 of game with his little ones. All day we 
 longed for the evening to come, that we might 
 enjoy these sports. 
 
 There probably is not to be found the man 
 or woman who does not look back upon the 
 days of childhood with all the admiration and 
 fond romance one has for pictures drawn from 
 fairy land. The heart must become sere indeed,
 
 34: AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 that does not glow at the remembrance of the 
 sweet voice of some prattling sister, or bound- 
 ing step of a light-hearted, fun-loving brother, 
 whose mischievous pranks may have even 
 annoyed our girlish sense of propriety. 
 
 The house in which I was born was pleas- 
 antly located. Attached to it was a large 
 vegetable and flower garden, also a fine orchard 
 of various fruit trees. My grandfather had 
 owned the property many years. He had 
 inherited it from his father. Upon my mother's 
 marriage, he had removed the old house and 
 erected a new one. This was large and well- 
 arranged, with barn and stable in the rear. It 
 was built of stone and wood. We occupied 
 this homestead until father decided to emigrate 
 to America. Mother then sold it to her nephew, 
 Henry Koester. She was anxious for the pro- 
 perty to remain in the Schildtknecht family, 
 as it had been owned by them for nearly a 
 century. 
 
 My father's family had always resided very 
 near my mother's home. The two families had 
 been on the most intimate terms until the time 
 of my grandfather Niemeyer's second mar- 
 riage. This circumstance had produced an 
 unfortunate estrangement. Still, as it appeared
 
 MAKT A. NIEMETEK. 35 
 
 to have resulted agreeably for grandfather, his 
 children were becoming somewhat reconciled 
 to it. Mrs. Niemeyer had laid aside many of 
 her excesses, was less extravagant, and showed 
 a desire to conform to her husband's wishes 
 and more quiet mode of life. This tended 
 greatly to ameliorate the strong feeling of 
 opposition to the marriage which had at first 
 existed. 
 
 The Easter and Christmas seasons are with 
 the Germans occasions of peculiar significance. 
 They are celebrated, perhaps, with more form 
 than in any other country. Thursday before 
 Good Friday, is a joyful day to the young folks 
 of Deisel. 
 
 An old and wealthy citizen, who was known 
 to be especially fond of children, but w r ho was 
 very eccentric, had, a great number of years 
 before my story begins, at his death left a 
 legacy to the children of the village. This 
 was to be used to give them a treat on the day 
 named. The custom was one in which all took 
 great pleasure. All the little boys and girls 
 between infancy and fourteen years of age, 
 dressed in their best attire, proceeded to the 
 Churchyard. Here a table was spread with 
 everything that was tempting to the eye
 
 36 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 
 
 and palate. The afternoon was appropriated 
 to the enjoyment of this repast. Never will 
 any who partook of the good tilings so gener- 
 ously provided for them, forget the pleasures 
 of these festival days. The memory of the 
 kind donor who had made happy so many 
 childish hearts, was always touchingly referred 
 to, and a thought of gratitude was cherished 
 by even the tiniest little one present. 
 
 At Easter great preparations are made for 
 the students who are to be confirmed. The 
 outfit for the occasion is white. It is presented 
 to the candidates by their god-parents. The 
 Churches at this season are beautifully decked 
 with evergreens and flowers ; and the ceremony 
 of confirmation is very solemn and imposing. 
 My parents had the pleasure of seeing two of 
 their children, confirmed before leaving their 
 native land. 
 
 On Easter Monday the young people hold a 
 pic-nic a short distance from the village. The 
 principal feature of the day is the great variety 
 of Easter-eggs. These are beautifully colored, 
 and the children find great amusement in 
 " picking " them. This is in observance of an 
 old custom handed down from the remote past. 
 Easter-fires, Easter-eggs, and many other cus-
 
 MART A. NIEMETEE. 37 
 
 toms and superstitions, have all their origin 
 from the ancient heathen feast, which, as the 
 celebration of the resurrection of Nature, was 
 very appropriately succeeded by the festival 
 which commemorates the resurrection of Christ. 
 But the children do not moralize upon the 
 meaning of the breaking of the egg to let fly 
 the hidden bird, symbol as it is of the opening 
 grave that the buried Christ might rise. They 
 have yet to learn that even in their pastimes is 
 often deeper significance than they had ever 
 thought. 
 
 With the rites of the joyous Christmas 
 season the village children are more familiar. 
 Their voices chorus jubilantly the glad song 
 of the angels " Glory to God in the highest, 
 on earth peace and good will toward men." 
 The babe in swaddling clothes, type of their 
 own young lives, they feel i& not a figure of 
 speech only, but a blessed reality. The rejoic- 
 ing when the happy time comes, makes the 
 advent of Christmas welcome to all ; and merry 
 groups may be seen going to and fro through 
 the streets, carrying the presents they have 
 received from their god-parents and friends, 
 and proudly showing them as trophies won by 
 good behavior. The frosty morning or even 
 
 456728
 
 38 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 chilling winter blasts do not deter them ; and 
 if you go abroad, you see them everywhere. 
 Most of the children's gifts are received from 
 their god-parents. "With the Germans this 
 relationship is a near one; it has more than 
 ordinary responsibility in it. When an infant 
 is baptized, the parents select two persons, 
 either from their kindred or friends. These 
 persons make a solemn vow at the altar that 
 they will perform the duties of parents to the 
 child in the event of the death of its natural 
 parents. This makes the tie a binding one, 
 and an affectionate interest is often the result. 
 god-parents usually participate in all the 
 pleasures of their little charges, and Christmas 
 is deemed a fitting time for them to show their 
 love and thoughtful consideration.
 
 MAEY A. NIEMEYEB. 39 
 
 CHAPTEK IY. 
 
 ""When time, which steals our years away, 
 
 Shall steal our pleasures too, 
 The memory of the past will stay 
 
 And half our joys renew." 
 
 Moore, 
 
 "Oh! friends regretted, scenes forever dear, 
 Remembrance hails you with her warmest tear; 
 Drooping, she bends o'er pensive Fancy's urn, 
 To trace the hours which never can return." 
 
 Byron. 
 
 "Fond memory, to her duty true, 
 Brings back their faded forms to view; 
 How lifelike, thro' the mist of years, 
 Each well-remembered face appears." 
 
 Charles Sprague. 
 
 Parents in Germany are bound by law to 
 send their children to school when they reach 
 the age of six years. Twice a year days are 
 appointed for their admission. These occur in 
 the Spring and Autumn. The law is compul- 
 sory. No parent is allowed to keep his child 
 at home to the neglect of his education. Sick- 
 ness of the child itself is the only possible 
 excuse admitted. In this way, all have an
 
 40 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 opportunity to learn. The neglect of a care- 
 less, thoughtless, or even wofully indifferent 
 parent is not permitted to interfere with the 
 child's welfare, in this particular at least. 
 
 In thus giving the priceless boon of know- 
 ledge, much is placed within reach of the 
 recipient, that, in a multitude of instances s 
 would never be hoped for, were not such pro- 
 vision made. The law is of incalculable 
 advantage to the youth of Germany, in furn- 
 ishing incentives to all classes. Uprightness 
 of character and a good education in the 
 schools, form their models of excellence. 
 
 There can be no greater blessing for the 
 masses than liberal and enlightened education. 
 It can only elevate a community. Let schools 
 be in any country what they should be, and 
 prisons would be fewer. 
 
 I had often heard my brothers speak of 
 school. I had waited with eager expectation 
 to be old enough to accompany them. When 
 a very little girl I loved to study. The school- 
 room was, in my fancy, a sort of fairy kingdom, 
 where all the pupils were dutiful subjects. I 
 was six years old. At last school day had 
 come for me. My dreams were to be realized 
 or destroyed. I longed for the hour of starting.
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEE. 41 
 
 When it was time to go, my heart seemed to 
 quicken its beating, and my feet wanted to 
 run. 
 
 It was a bright May day, and everything 
 appeared to look glad and hopeful. Entering 
 school with my brothers was the first marked 
 event of my childlile the very happiest expe- 
 rience. It promised to me, in my youthful 
 imagination, only pleasure. The paths of 
 knowledge, I thought, could only be flowery 
 paths. Of the thorns hidden among the flowers 
 I never dreamed. I did not suppose the hours 
 could ever wearily drag their slow length 
 along in a school-room. 
 
 It is well for us the future is unknown. Its 
 hidden disappointments, discovered to us, would 
 make existence only an endurance. The know- 
 ledge of what tests we are to pass through, the 
 trials we are to endure, would paralyze the 
 stoutest heart. God is wise in withholding 
 from us the secrets of the years to come. He 
 leads us on from infancy to old age, lifting our 
 burdens if they are too heavy, or fitting us to 
 bear them. 
 
 My eldest and second brothers, Andrew and 
 Charles, were in the higher department. Brother 
 Freddie and I entered the primary department,
 
 42 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 as we were beginners. He was something older 
 than I, and was farther advanced. No one 
 noticed the little shy stranger as she entered. 
 The children were very noisy. I grew tired 
 of the confusion and wished myself home. So 
 vanished my dream, touched by the wand of 
 reality. My air-castles were fast tumbling into 
 ruin. The fairy kingdom was not what I had 
 fancied it. But soon the teacher made his 
 appearance. In an instant everything was 
 quiet. He bade all a hearty good morning, 
 which the scholars returned with equal enthu- 
 siasm. Then observing me, he came and took 
 my hand caressingly, and said he hoped I would 
 be a good girl. He promised to be kind to me 
 if I would be studious and obedient. I felt 
 some of my castles still stood up, some of my 
 dreams were coming true. 
 
 When I had imagined a character for the 
 teacher,! had decided upon a personage invested 
 with much dignity, and of whom I was to stand 
 in great awe. I had made a character from 
 my brothers' accounts, but I was wrong in all 
 my conclusions. Mr. Uffelman was short in 
 stature and young in years. I had imagined 
 him tall, and old, and very grave. Instead of 
 which he was lively and playful, except during
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEB. 4:3 
 
 school time. He seemed to me almost like 
 myself a little child. 
 
 This is a fortunate impression for a teacher 
 to make. Confidence is at once secured, and 
 the barrier thrown down separating the two 
 relationships from each other. A child is far 
 more easily taught if an affectionate interest 
 can be secured. If the teacher possess inherent 
 dignity, rather than that which the office 
 bestows, there is little fear but what he will 
 win his way to a child's heart, and yet control 
 at the same time his wayward impulses. 
 
 There can be no healthy mental exercise, if 
 dread of power only induce the performance 
 of duty. There should always be perfect free- 
 dom of thought, if full development is the 
 teacher's object. A judicious guide can check 
 without discouraging the opening intellect, 
 and thus prune or wisely direct any undesirable 
 tendencies. 
 
 As I recall my first teacher, he was of pleas- 
 ing appearance, calculated to win a child's 
 admiration. His hair and eyes were dark, the 
 latter with a merry twinkle in them. Yery 
 kindly eyes they were, as he smiled upon our 
 childish efforts. His brow was high, broad and 
 white, with waves of his dark hair falling
 
 44 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 carelessly over it. Though a very little girl, I 
 greatly admired this teacher, and now I think 
 of him as I knew him then, one of the best 
 and kindest friends I had. 
 
 School opened daily with the singing of a 
 morning hymn by the children, and the read- 
 ing by the teacher of a portion of Scripture ; 
 after these exercises, a prayer was repeated in 
 concert by the school. Thus our thoughts 
 were directed to the Giver of all good, and we 
 were doubtless more dutiful and obedient for 
 this early morning sacrifice. 
 
 Our first lesson was in vocal music. A full 
 hour was devoted to this study every day. 
 The teacher accompanied either with violin or 
 some other instrument. Much attention is 
 paid to music in the schools. It is, perhaps, 
 more thoroughly taught than any other of the 
 branches, excepting the elementary studies. 
 By this means a very creditable knowledge of 
 the art is obtained, which is not only a source 
 of pleasure, but becomes a source of profit as 
 well. Many adopt the profession, and make a 
 comfortable living, either as musicians, or teach- 
 ers of the art. There is probably a greater 
 number of Germans who are music teachers 
 than any other people, and this is owing, in a
 
 MAKY A. NIEMEYEB. 45 
 
 great measure to the skill they acquire in the 
 schools provided by the Government. 
 
 After our hour's music lesson, a period for 
 recreation was allowed before another study 
 was taken up. In this way the mind was 
 relieved, and the next task was welcomed with 
 zest and spirit. The day was varied all through, 
 and at the close of school we felt almost as 
 fresh as when it began. We experienced no 
 sense of weariness or disgust from having been 
 overworked. There had been no effort to cram 
 our young brain ; only enough had been done 
 to stimulate and invigorate. It is the aim in 
 these German schools to so regulate study and 
 rest, that the body retain its due strength while 
 the mind is being fed. Healthy minds and 
 bodies with such a system observed, may be 
 secured. There is no gorging permitted, even 
 though the food be intellectual. As a result, 
 the student on leaving school is matured men- 
 tally and physically, and not dwarfed in either 
 respect. 
 
 The opinion is rapidly gaining ground every- 
 where, that, to be well taught, one must not 
 necessarily be much taught. Thoughtful men 
 and women are carefully studying the philan- 
 thropy as well as the philosophy of the school-
 
 46 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 room, and ere long noble examples of success, 
 without the influence of the high pressure 
 system, will appear. A thoroughly healthy 
 and judicious mode of teaching will be estab- 
 lished, and the errors of the past will be 
 atoned for. 
 
 When I had been attending school two 
 years, I was joined by my younger sister, 
 Maria. We accompanied each other with 
 glad hearts, for we were loving sisters. The 
 way seemed shorter and brighter, and the 
 school-room more attractive, now that she was 
 to share with me its privileges. Brother 
 Freddie had been promoted to the higher 
 department. I should have missed him sadly, 
 but my little sister now took his place, and was 
 my companion at school. 
 
 I progressed in my studies under the faithful 
 supervision of our teacher, and I shall ever feel 
 grateful for the knowledge I gained while with 
 him. Could I have lifted the veil behind which 
 my future was hidden, and have known what 
 was in store for me, I should, even as a little 
 child, have applied myself more diligently. 
 Not then had the slightest indication of the 
 affliction I was to bear made appearance. I 
 was a light-hearted, merry girl; but eight
 
 MART A. NIEMEYEK. 47 
 
 years had passed over my head, and no thought 
 of sorrow had come to me. And yet there 
 was a sad deprivation to be realized in a few 
 years. 
 
 As I look back upon this period of my life 
 when I saw the faces of those I loved, when I 
 was permitted to look upon Nature, and take 
 its beauties in through the outward vision, I 
 think of precious opportunities not fully appre- 
 ciated. Still I merited my teacher's approval. 
 He sometimes told me my penmanship almost 
 equalled his. This made me ambitious. I was 
 proud that he thought well of me, and strove 
 hard to continue to merit his good opinion.
 
 4:8 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 CHAPTEE Y. 
 
 "Go forth into the fields; 
 
 Go forth, and know the gladness Nature yields. 
 ****** 
 
 Hark! from each fresh-clad bough, 
 
 Or blissful soaring in the air, 
 Bright birds, with joyous music, bid you now 
 
 To the Spring's loved haunts repair." 
 
 W. J. Pabodie. 
 
 Now May, with life and music, 
 
 The blooming valley fills, 
 And rears her flowery arches 
 
 For all the little rills." 
 
 William CuUen Bryant. 
 
 Just after my sister started to school, a 
 general pic-nic was held. The schools of five 
 different villages participated. All were to 
 assemble at the appointed place, a beautiful 
 grove, about equally distant from each village. 
 The hour of starting was to be selected by each 
 school for itself, only all were to be together 
 for dinner. 
 
 The grove was a lovely spot, beautifully 
 shaded with high, over-arching trees. A lim- 
 pid stream rippled out from a rock jutting
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 49 
 
 suddenly up from the ground, forming a natural 
 fountain. Then the bright water emptied 
 into a rivulet, which went singing its 
 vray along, following in its course the gently 
 sloping ground, and, at a little distance off 
 quietly settled itself into a crystal lake. 
 
 The birds sang in the tree-tops, or flitted 
 ^ut among the boughs and branches. The 
 grass was soft and velvety to the tread. Wild 
 flowers were scattered everywhere, ready to 
 themselves timidly away as the voices of 
 Idren rang out on the air; fearing lest they 
 should be ruthlessly trampled upon, or snatched 
 from the embrace of the long meadow grass 
 to deck the hat of some fair village beauty. 
 
 The morning was clear ; the sky so cloudless, 
 promised a whole day of pleasure. King Sol 
 had stepped forth from his chambers in the 
 East m the best possible humor, and not even 
 a fleecy spot was in all the heavens. The 
 nldren saw this, and their hearts bounded 
 ith joy. Their light footsteps were the 
 echoes of their excessive happiness. 
 ^ According to the plan that had been arranged 
 them, the different schools started on their 
 journey to the woods. Every child was full 
 expectation of promised pleasure. Bright 

 
 50 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 faces shone again, and ringing peals of laughter 
 made the forests jubilant as the merry groups 
 passed through them. 
 
 The scholars were to be in charge of the 
 teachers, who were expected to conduct them 
 safely to the pic-nic grounds. We started at 
 the appointed hour, walked a long time, and 
 yet did not seem to get any nearer our des- 
 tination ; as far as we could see, forests only 
 were visible. We had expected to meet some 
 of the other schools ; but instead of doing so, 
 we found ourselves close by the ruins of a 
 city, without having seen the path leading 
 to the grove we were seeking. We were lost ! 
 We were not alarrried, for we at least knew the 
 way we had come, and could retrace our steps. 
 We were all in excellent spirits, and were 
 much amused at our mistake. Our teacher 
 was a stranger, and had taken the wrong road. 
 We were merry over the idea of probably 
 having our pic-nic to ourselves. 
 
 Mr. Uffelman suggested we should eat our 
 dinners. While doing so, he gave us an inter- 
 esting account of ruins he had visited elsewhere. 
 He pointed out any similarity between those 
 and the ones we had so unexpectedly discovered. 
 He narrated some stories of ancient ruined
 
 MARY A. KIEMEYEB. 51 
 
 castles. Some of these were rather ghostly, 
 but they were told in broad daylight, and we 
 did not fear vexed spirits. We felt like search- 
 ing among the few remaining shattered walls 
 by which we were surrounded, to see if we 
 could find any trace of the supernatural. But 
 we contented ourselves with listening to the 
 stories, and the moral which our teacher drew 
 from each. 
 
 We enjoyed our dinner exceedingly. After 
 it was over, we strolled on till we were beyond 
 the ruins. We had begun to think we should 
 entirely fail to find the other schools, and were 
 wondering what would be thought of our not 
 coming, when lo ! we were in their very midst. 
 
 Our surprise was great, for we did not know 
 we were near them. Everybody was glad to 
 see us. We were asked innumerable questions, 
 why we were so late arriving ; where we had 
 been ; and if we had had our dinners. To all 
 of which we gave satisfactory answers. It 
 amused our friends very much that we should 
 have lost our way. They laughed heartily at 
 our mishap. Our greeting was all the more 
 cordial as it had been so long deferred, and we 
 entered with keen relish into all the sports of 
 the occasion.
 
 52 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Never had I seen such a multitude of child- 
 ren. The number appeared too great to be 
 counted. This impression was, of course, partly 
 attributable to my inexperience. There were 
 probably two thousand, as each school approx- 
 imated four hundred scholars, and sometimes 
 exceeded that number. We spent the remain- 
 der of the day rambling through the woods, 
 swinging, jumping the rope, playing singing 
 plays, dancing, and in every possible way in 
 which children could be arrmsed. 
 
 The time passed rapidly, and the day seem- 
 ed short to us when the hour for our return 
 arrived. We were called together, and a hymn 
 was sung. The grove was filled with music, as 
 the voices of two thousand happy children 
 swelled forth in song. The birds were silent, 
 and even the leaves and the little rivulet seemed 
 to pause, that they might listen. Good-byes 
 were exchanged, and each teacher, with his 
 band of scholars, turned their steps towards 
 home. The whole day was what the morning 
 had promised, replete with pleasure. 
 
 With what delight in after life are recalled 
 such pastimes as these. They often become 
 the only bright tints in a heavily shaded life- 
 picture. When all freshness of feeling has
 
 MAKY A. KIEMEYER. 53 
 
 passed, and the heart is bowed in grief, how 
 often have we seen the aged face relumed with 
 joy at the remembrance of a butterfly chase, 
 or some equally evanescent and swiftly vanish- 
 ing joy- 
 When intervening years have been steeped 
 in oblivion too dense for aught to penetrate it, 
 the sports of childhood often come back, bring- 
 ing with them a thrill of pleasure naught else 
 can give. Why this is so, we may not clearly 
 discern. Perhaps because they were first 
 impressions, they took deeper hold upon the 
 fancy. Or as the world, with its busy cares, 
 had not then divided the heart's affections, 
 these loves of childhood may have been moro 
 precious to gentle memory, and she hid them 
 away for the retrospection of later years. 
 Whatever may be the reason, we are every day 
 reminded how very dear, even when feeble 
 steps are tottering on the brink of the grave, 
 are the reminiscences of earliest years. 
 
 From my infancy I have been passionately 
 fond of music. When I was about seven years 
 of age, a musical entertainment was to be given 
 by the people of u neighboring town, an hour's 
 walk distant. I had heard much talk concern- 
 ing the intended jubilee, and everything I
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 heard interested me greatly. I became very 
 anxious to attend. I could think of nothing 
 else for days before, and when the time arrived, 
 I was in a feverish state of excitement. "Whit 
 Monday had been appointed for the entertain- 
 ment. Many people were going from our 
 village. At the hour for starting, I left the 
 house .without my parents' knowledge, and 
 followed a party bound for the file. Soon 
 after reaching the grounds, I lost sight of the 
 familiar faces of persons from my home, and 
 found myself surrounded by strangers. I did 
 not feel afraid, so intent was I upon the full 
 enjoyment of the music. 
 
 The entertainment took place in a park just 
 beneath a gracefully sloping hill. It was well 
 shaded, and beautifully laid out in flower beds 
 and gravelled walks. It also contained several 
 pavilions, in which were tables filled with a 
 variety of refreshment. I soon found a group 
 of children playing by a pretty brook. They 
 were pulling bulrushes and plaiting them ; then 
 making little fancy wreaths and baskets, and 
 enjoying themselves finely. I, of course, was 
 attracted. Children soon become acquainted. 
 In a little while I was perfectly at home with 
 my new-found friends, and we had a joyous
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 55 
 
 time. Dinner was announced by the sounding 
 of a silver horn. The parents of my playmates 
 invited me to dine with them. I must have 
 seemed very lonely, but I did not feel so. I 
 spent the day delightfully, without a thought 
 of my home, or the distance I was from it. 
 
 About sunset I began to think of my long 
 walk back. I could not find the persons I had 
 come with. I became alarmed. I wondered 
 what my father and mother would say to me ; 
 what I should tell them, and if they would 
 punish me. These were not very agreeable 
 reflections after a day of pleasure. But I had 
 left without the knowledge or consent of my 
 parents, and was now dreading the deserved 
 penalty of disobedience. I had been well 
 trained, and thought of no way of escape but 
 to tell the truth, and ask to be forgiven. I 
 had done wrong I knew, and believed I should 
 receive the merited consequences of my fault. 
 My walk home was very lonely It was grow- 
 ing towards night, and I recalled all the ghost 
 stories I had ever heard. Every sound made 
 me quicken my steps. I fancied strange sights 
 all along the road, and ran as fast as I could, 
 till I had to slacken my pace to rest; then 
 would run again, almost breathless with fright.
 
 5G AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 At last I reached home, without having been 
 devoured by goblins or wicked elves of any 
 hind. Father and mother were much surprised 
 when I told them my day's adventures. They 
 were astonished to learn I had come back 
 alone, and were glad no mischance had over- 
 taken their erring child. They supposed I had 
 gone to spend the day with one of my school- 
 mates, and would be brought home by some 
 older member of the family. They cautioned 
 me against going such a distance again without 
 gaining their permission. They chid me very 
 gently, and did not punish me severely, as I had 
 expected they would. It was my first offence, 
 so they forgave me. I shall never forget how 
 grateful I felt to be allowed to give and receive 
 the usual good-night kiss. 
 
 My stolen pleasures wero sweet while being 
 enjoyed, but brought after regret. Had not 
 my kind parents forgiven me, I should have 
 been a miserable little girl when I laid my head 
 on my pillow. As it was, with an unburdened 
 heart and a weary body, I was soon sound asleep, 
 snugly stowed away in my comfortable bed, 
 to dream, perhaps, of my wanderings, the lonely 
 forest walk, my dread of a reprimand, but to 
 linger last and longest on the sweet seal of 
 pardon the good-night kiss of my parents.
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 57 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " All places that the eye of heaven visits, 
 Are to a wise man ports and happy havens." 
 
 Shttks. Richard II. 
 
 "Mother, how still the baby lies! 
 
 I cannot hear his breath ; 
 I cannot see his laughing eyes 
 They tell me this is death." 
 
 Mr*. Oilman. 
 
 "There is a voice I shall hear no more; 
 There are tones whose music for me is o'er, 
 Sweet as the odors of Spring were they 
 Precious and rich, but they died away; 
 They came like peace to my heart and ear, 
 Ne'er again will they murmur here; 
 They have gone like the blush of a summer moon, 
 Like a crimson cloud through the sunset borne." 
 
 W. G. Clarke. 
 
 At this time my father was constantly receiv- 
 ing letters from his brother, who had settled in 
 America, urging him to dispose of his property 
 and emigrate with his family. My parents 
 could not make up their minds to leave their 
 native land. But my uncle continued to write, 
 earnestly advising them to do BO. Finally,
 
 58 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 after long reflection, my father and mother 
 thought that as they had a large family, the 
 new world might possess advantages for their 
 children which their own country did not. So 
 after much consideration, and with some mis- 
 givings, they concluded at the expiration of 
 four months to leave for America. It was 
 quite a serious undertaking, but it appeared 
 providential for them to go. We began making 
 the necessary preparations for our departure. 
 All was bustle in our home. Mother's face 
 was anxious, but she would not allow herself 
 to regret the step she had decided to take. If 
 her children's good was to be secured, she was 
 willing to make any sacrifice. She believed it 
 was for the best, and all other considerations 
 were nobly set aside. Such is a mother's love. 
 She knows no aim but the welfare of her family. 
 All were busy, getting ready to cross the 
 briny deep. Even the children were doing 
 what they could, when, as though to remind us 
 how vain are all our plans if God should see 
 fit to interpose and stay them, our darling little 
 brother Louis sickened and died. This was a 
 sad blow. Mother feared it might be' ominous 
 that our going to America was not a wise 
 decision. He was but four years old, our
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEK. 59 
 
 household pet, his winning ways our constant 
 pleasure. Yet God took the blossom from us 
 to bloom where no blight could destroy its 
 beauty; and the little one laid in his grave 
 across the ocean, often when we were settled in 
 our new home, made us wander back to the 
 land we had left. A tie was formed that no 
 change of scene or circumstance could break. 
 We love the spot with green turf above it, 
 where sleep those we tenderly cherish. And 
 in waking dreams, or when slumber's soft 
 mantle has enfolded the senses, we often linger 
 there. 
 
 I was greatly delighted at the idea of going 
 to America. It was to me a wonderful place. 
 I had heard so much about it, that I thought it 
 must surely be a better world than I had lived 
 in, its fruits more luscious, its flowers more 
 lovely, and its people more famous. Like 
 stories told me of Aladdin's lamp and its magical 
 power, were the accounts of this new land. 
 Very marvellous were my childish imagina- 
 tions. I could scarcely study my lessons after 
 it had been determined we were to go. My 
 thoughts were almost exclusively upon the 
 prospects before us. My teacher would pat 
 me on the cheek and say laughingly, " Oh,
 
 60 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 you think too much about America ; you will 
 not find it so very wonderful." 
 
 A few days before taking leave of our friends, 
 sister and myself met Mr. Uffelman. He asked 
 us " if we were in a hurry to g3t home." We 
 told him " no." He desired us to return with 
 him to his home. We accompanied him, and 
 found he had prepared a nice little parting 
 treat for us. We were both surprised and 
 pleased at his thoughtfulness. He told us he 
 was on his way to our home when he met us. 
 We had left school a short time before, and so 
 had not seen him daily, as we had been accus- 
 tomed to. Sister and I were delighted with 
 this pleasant surprise, and were not likely ever 
 to forget it. 
 
 It takes only a little thing to gratify children. 
 They magnify all kindnesses, and in their 
 generosity arc sure to make large returns of 
 love and confidence. No matter how desolate 
 or lonely we may be, we may always win the 
 affection of a child; and it is very pure, 
 worthier to have and hold than that of persons 
 older grown, if with the latter self interest add a 
 feather weight in the scale. 
 
 Our teacher talked with us of our intended 
 journey. He told us in the country to which
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 61 
 
 we were going people were not always as strict 
 in their notions of duty as they should be. In 
 their haste to become rich, parents frequently 
 were regardless of their children's interests, 
 and removed them when very young from 
 school to aid in making money. The children 
 were glad to get rid of study, and were very 
 willing to give up school. In this way they 
 began to be men and women in their notions, 
 while they still were children in years. This, 
 he thought, was in a measure owing to the fact 
 that many persons had emigrated to America 
 with the sole object of accumulating wealth. 
 The country was young; its agriculture, mineral 
 and mechanical resources were abundant. It 
 was, indeed, in the opinion of some a land of 
 gold, and their purpose in seeking it was to 
 become possessed of a goodly share of the 
 precious commodity. His theory may not have 
 been a correct one in every respect; it may 
 have been in a degree exaggerated ; yet I have 
 since found it was not wholly without founda- 
 tion. There is an eagerness for mere worldly 
 gain that does interfere with higher and less 
 perishable attainments. But the country is 
 growing older; and with plenty in her right 
 hand, she still may take hold of wisdom's
 
 62 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 sceptre, and while not neglecting opportunities 
 to possess wealth, yet not make it the one aim 
 of a lite. 
 
 Mr. Uffelman counselled us to continue at 
 school as long as our parents could possibly 
 permit us. He hoped we would remain at 
 least till we were confirmed. By that time we 
 should have acquired a fair education, and be 
 ready creditably to do our part in the world. 
 He then bade us good-bye, and we parted from 
 our friend and teacher, never again to meet on 
 earth. 
 
 The day came on which we were to quit the 
 home of our first years. We were to leave 
 forever behind us the land of our birth. We 
 should never tread its soil again. We children 
 were very young, but the subdued grief of our 
 parents impressed us, and we understood it was 
 no ordinary change we were making. It is 
 true our parting was not altogether sorrowful, 
 for we were very hopeful as to what our new 
 home would prove to be. Our anticipations 
 were bright, and our regrets were principally 
 that we were leaving friends and neighbors, to 
 whom we were fondly attached. Our p'laymates 
 were sad at the thought of our going so far 
 away. Many of them with tearful eyes pre-
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER 63 
 
 sen ted mementos of their affection. These 
 little gifts, love-tokens as they surely were, were 
 dearly prized. The last good-byes were spoken. 
 "We looked back upon our pleasant home, then 
 turned from it forever, followed by the " God 
 speed" of the dear ones who had remained 
 longest with us. 
 
 My mother's parting request, as she bade 
 her sister farewell, was in memory of the little 
 one she had so recently put away, asleep in his 
 new-made grave. She begged that flowers 
 might be kept blooming above the cherished 
 form violet, and hyacinth, and sweet-scented 
 rose, and mingling with them the mourning 
 cypress, emblems of his youth and loveliness, 
 and her sorrowing heart. She felt that although 
 his body was in the grave, yet the spirit had 
 winged its flight to realms of endless life. The 
 fleshy tabernacle would become food for worms, 
 but he was where " neither moth nor rust doth 
 corrupt." He was beyond the skies, himself 
 a cherub among the angels and bright-winged 
 seraphs. His voice, never again to be broken 
 into infant wailing, would forever burst forth 
 into song, " Hosanna to the Lord," the burden 
 of the melody. 
 
 Lips that had just learned to lisp " mother,"
 
 64 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 here on earth, would, in heaven, welcome that 
 mother with a glad "All hail," when she, 
 having done with earth's toils, should again 
 fold her darling in her fond embrace. 
 
 "No bitter tears be shed, 
 
 Blossom of being, seen and gone; 
 "With flowers alone we strew thy bed, 
 
 O blest departed one ! 
 Whose all of life a rosy ray, 
 Blush'd into dawn, and passed away. 
 
 Yes, thou art fled, ere guilt had power 
 To stain thy cherub-soul and form, 
 
 Closed is the soft ephemeral flower, 
 That never felt a storm 1 
 
 The sunbeam's smile, the zephyr's breath, 
 
 All that it knew from life to death. 
 
 Thou wert so like a form of light, 
 That heaven benignly called thee hence, 
 
 Ere yet the world could breathe one blight 
 O'er thy sweet innocence. 
 
 And thou, that brighter home to bless, 
 
 Art passed, with all thy loveliness! 
 
 Oh! hadst thou still on earth remained, 
 
 Vision of beauty, fair as brief; 
 How soon thy brightness had been stain'd 
 
 With passion or with grief! 
 Now not a sullying breath can rise, 
 To dim thy glory in the skies. 
 
 We rear no marble o'er thy tomb, 
 No sculptur'd image there shall mourn;
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEK. 65 
 
 All! fitter far the vernal bloom 
 
 Such dwelling to adorn. 
 Fragrance, and flowers, and dews must be 
 The only emblems meet for thee. 
 
 Thy grave shall be a blessed shrine, 
 
 Adorn' d with Nature's brightest wreath, 
 
 Each glowing season shall combine 
 Its incense there to breathe; 
 
 And oft upon the midnight air 
 
 Shall viewless harps be murmuring there. 
 
 And oh ! sometimes in visions blest, 
 
 Sweet spirit visit our repose, 
 And bear from thine own world of rest 
 
 Some balm for human woes. 
 What form more lovely could be given, 
 Than thine, to be messenger of heaven?" 
 
 To us as children, our leaving Germany did 
 not seem to have any special significance. We 
 soon forgot, in the excitement of travel, our 
 sorrow, and were ready to enjoy everything. 
 We had no forebodings, no anxieties. We were 
 going in a few days to take up our abode, for some 
 weeks at least, in a big ship, as big as a house. 
 We thought this very novel, and were full of 
 wonderment as to how everything would be. 
 Our speculations, could they have been set 
 down, would have been most amusing. Our 
 buoyant expectations cheered our parents, and 
 6
 
 66 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 they endeavored to consider without regret the 
 step they had taken. Their trust was in God, 
 who is always strong to deliver, even if erring 
 human judgment prove unwise. 
 
 There is a pow'r our path to guide, 
 
 E'en though a thorny way; 
 Our God is just, whate'er betide, 
 
 He can all evil stay. 
 
 We must trust His pow'r divine, 
 Lean on His strong right arm; 
 
 He'll make His light to shine, 
 And lead us from all harm.
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 67 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 "Let us depart! the universal sun 
 Confines not to one land his blessed beams." 
 
 Southey'g Madoc. 
 
 " Come, fair repentance, daughter of the skies, 
 Soft harbinger of soon returning virtue ; 
 The weeping messenger of grace from heav'n ! " 
 
 Brown's At/ielstan. 
 
 "Fare thee well! the ship is ready, 
 And the breeze is fresh and steady; 
 Hands are fast the anchor weighing, 
 High in air the streamers playing. 
 Spread the sails, the waves are swelling 
 Proudly round thy buoyant dwelling. 
 Fare thee well, and when at sea, 
 Think of those who sigh for thee ! " 
 
 Hannah F. Gould. 
 
 Two days' delightful travel brought us to 
 Bremen. It was late in the evening when we 
 arrived. After partaking of a refreshing supper, 
 we retired. Next morning father took us out 
 for a walk. We were anxious to see the place. 
 We found it a city of considerable commer- 
 cial importance, situated on the river Weser; 
 famous for its wine cellars. These are divided
 
 68 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 into compartments : in one of which are the 
 wine casks called " The Rose," and " The 
 Twelve Apostles." These names are tradi- 
 tional, and are appropriately significant. Much 
 store is set upon their possession. 
 
 The Cathedral is a Gothic building of the 
 twelfth century. It is well preserved, and is 
 unique and suggestive in structure. It bears 
 marks of its great age in the various growth 
 that has clung to its time-honored walls, and 
 which has in places turned to fossil, and become 
 a part of the stone. Quaint devices have in 
 this way been traced on wall, and frieze and 
 cornice. The antiquated pile is eloquent, 
 though voiceless in its grandeur, " speaking of 
 the past unto the present." It has a language 
 of its own unwritten and unspoken, but hold- 
 ing communion with the heart of man. 
 
 The vault of the church has the property of 
 preserving the bodies of the dead from decom- 
 position. This is curious, but it is nevertheless 
 true. The idea may have been taken from the 
 ancient Egyptian method of embalming the 
 dead, and then placing them in an atmosphere 
 where they remain in the same condition for 
 
 "Wt found many other interesting things in
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 69 
 
 Bremen ; none, however, more so than the 
 wine cellars and the cathedral, and none that 
 were remarkable enough for us to spend 
 much time in visiting. We were pleased 
 with all we saw although our stay was 
 brief. 
 
 The greater number of Germans emigrating 
 to America, embark at this point. Vessels of 
 large size stop at Bremen haven, near the 
 rnouth of the river Weser. Two fine bridges 
 connect the banks of this river. These add to 
 the business facilities of the city, and are sources 
 of wealth to the people. 
 
 On our return from our walk and sight- 
 
 O 
 
 seeing, we took dinner. There was a large 
 number of guests at the hotel ; and after dinner 
 they were scattered through the house, appar- 
 ently enjoying themselves very much, all accord- 
 ing to their several fancies. Some were chatting, 
 others reading, and groups were engaged in 
 various parlor games. I was feeling rather 
 lonely, as I had become accidentally separated 
 from my family. While sitting, watching what 
 was going on around me, a strange lady came 
 and took a seat by my side. She asked me 
 some questions : who I was, where I was from, 
 and if I was going to remain long in Bremen.
 
 70 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 To this last inquiry I answered, " I did not 
 know, as I had not heard my parents say." 
 She seemed interested in me, and I was pleased 
 with the attention she paid me. She desired 
 me to ask my mother it' I might accompany 
 her home for a short visit. I left her to find 
 mother. When at her door, I thought she 
 surely would not let me go, as the lady was an 
 entire stranger. I had taken a great liking 
 to my new friend, and wished exceedingly to 
 go with her. I concluded it would not be very 
 wrong to go without my mother's permission, 
 as I should be gone only a little while. I 
 decided to return and say I had my mother's 
 consent to do as she wished me. I was tempted 
 to deceive, and yielded. I thought my parents 
 would not care. I forgot for the moment the 
 oft repeated counsel I had received ; never to 
 tell an untruth, that harm would surely follow. 
 I acted according to the impulses of my 
 sinful, selfish heart. I told the lady I could 
 go, and went with her to her home. She was 
 kind and loving to me ; she petted and caressed 
 me in the fondest manner, and I was com- 
 pletely captivated. I remained all night with 
 my new acquaintance. I was so pleased, I 
 forgot my disobedience, and thought only of
 
 MAEY A. NIEMEYEE. 71 
 
 present happiness. Next day we went visiting, 
 and had a pleasant time ; then we returned to 
 the hotel. What was my surprise, to find my 
 parents, brothers and sisters had gone. I 
 became greatly alarmed. My friend took me 
 to the proprietor of the hotel. My dismay can 
 hardly be imagined, when he told me all my 
 family had left that morning on their voyage 
 to America. The ship was starting in which 
 they were to sail, and they were compelled to 
 go. He thought my father had found me, as 
 he had not seen him for some hours. I burst 
 into tears. I thought my heart would break. 
 I was utterly miserable. Everybody tried to 
 comfort me, but I was inconsolable. I was a 
 hopeless desolate child. I had been very wicked, 
 and this was my punishment. It seemed greater 
 than I could bear. I remembered my folly 
 in deep contrition, and was truly penitent, but 
 this did not restore me to my parents ; and my 
 sorrow was unabated. 
 
 Mrs. Kiester did everything she could to 
 allay my grief, but all her efforts failed, till she 
 happened to say she expected to go to America 
 in a short time, and she would take me with 
 her, and we would try our utmost to find my 
 parents. I returned with her to her home a
 
 72 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 sadder and wiser child. I was not likely ever 
 again to deceive. 
 
 Two days passed ; I heard nothing of my 
 parents. On the evening of the second day, 
 sick and weary, I retired early, to ponder on 
 my forlorn situation a deserted child, among 
 entire strangers. When just as I laid down, I 
 heard a familiar voice in the hall ; it was my 
 father's. I leaped out of bed, ready to dance 
 for joy, and in an instant was folded in his 
 arms. I was at first afraid he would be dis- 
 pleased with me, and would chide me severely 
 for the trouble and anxiety I had caused him ; 
 but Mrs. Kiester interceded for me, explained 
 everything, and shared the blame. She had 
 asked me to go with her, not knowing the 
 family were to leave Bremen so soon. Yery 
 earnest were her eiforts to reconcile my father 
 to my misconduct, in having gone away with- 
 out his or my mother's consent. Her excuse 
 was, I was too young to reflect how wrong it 
 was to do so ; she felt sure I would never repeat 
 the offence. Father listened to her pleading 
 in my behalf, and kindly forgave me. 
 
 He told us how alarmed he was when, just 
 as he was starting, I could nowhere be found. 
 He thought I must have strayed away and lost
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 73 
 
 myself. lie had purchased tickets for the fam- 
 ily on the first ship out. This was to leave the 
 day after I left the hotel with my stranger 
 friend. He took the family to the point from 
 which the ship was to start, then returned to seek 
 his missing child. He could learn nothing of 
 my whereabouts. I had not told any one where 
 I was going ; this rendered search for me fruit- 
 less. I resolved never again to distress my 
 parents by being disobedient and untruthful. 
 The circumstance made a lasting impression 
 upon me. Ever after, if I felt like equivocating 
 in the slightest, I recalled with a shudder, the 
 agony I endured, and the remembrance pre- 
 vented my sinning again in the same way. If 
 a child should read my simple story, I would 
 urge that, under all temptation, the truth be 
 told. Yery few possibly, will pass through the 
 ordeal I did, but falsehood will always bring 
 its own bitter penalty. 
 
 Father and I left for Bremen port next day. 
 My mother met me, as soon as we reached the 
 place where she had been waiting for me. 
 "Words cannot express her delight when she 
 saw her little daughter Mary. She threw her 
 arms around me and wept for joy. She had 
 dreaded having to leave the country without 
 7
 
 74 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 finding me. Father intended to stay and search 
 for me, and have mother and the other children 
 go without him. He and I would follow as 
 soon as he had found me. My mother's anguish 
 had been intense. She felt she would rather 
 have laid me beside my little brother Louis, 
 than perhaps never to know what had become 
 of me. We told mother all about Mrs. Kiester, 
 how she had fascinated me, and how frightened 
 I had been when I could not find my parents. 
 Mother laughed and cried during the narrative, 
 and when it was ended she mildly reproved 
 my thoughtlessness. She told me she was 
 deeply grieved that I had told a falsehood ; but 
 she forgave me, and we were once more a united 
 family ; the one stray lamb had been brought 
 back into the fold. 
 
 The vessel in which we were to sail had 
 already moved out a short distance from the 
 shore, so father had to procure a small boat in 
 which we might be conveyed to it. 
 
 Just as we were seated in the boat, father 
 missed my sister Maria. There was momentary 
 alarm, for mother feared she might have fallen 
 into the water unobserved. Our anxiety was, 
 however, fortunately this time but of short 
 duration ; for looking to a little distance, father
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 75 
 
 saw her busily playing with a group of children. 
 We soon had her with us, and had a hearty 
 laugh beside at our unnecessary alarm. 
 
 When we were all on board, and the vessel 
 struck out for the open sea, she appeared like a 
 thing of life. The people on shore looked on 
 admiringly ; the scene was indeed most enliven- 
 ing. The good ship seemed like a bird on the 
 ocean wave ; gaily she flapped her sails as the 
 wind filled them. Now she rose on the breast 
 of a billow ; then dipped down into the briny 
 tide. We enjoyed the sensation.
 
 76 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 CHAPTEK VIII. 
 
 " Adieu, adieu ! my native shore 
 
 Fades o r er the waters blue; 
 The night winds sigh, the breakers roar, 
 
 And shrieks the wild sea-mew. 
 Yon sun that sets upon the sea, 
 
 We follow in his flight : 
 Farewell awhile to him and thee, 
 My native land, good-night." 
 
 Byron. 
 
 "The uptorn waves rolled hoar and huge; 
 
 The far-thrown undulations 
 Swelled out in the sun's last lingering smile, 
 And fell like battling nations." 
 
 J. 0. EocltweU. 
 
 "A sound comes on the rising breeze, 
 
 A sweet and lovely sound; 
 Piercing the tumult of the seas 
 That wildly dash around. 
 
 From land, from sunny land it comes, 
 From hills with murmuring trees, 
 
 From paths by still and happy homes 
 That sweet sound on the breeze." 
 
 Felicia .Hemans. 
 
 The ship in which we sailed was of the 
 largest kind, and was named after the river
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEK. 77 
 
 "Weser. There were on board between two 
 and three hundred passengers, one-third of 
 whom were Jews. In a few days we lost sight 
 of beautiful Germany, the land of our birth ; 
 our Fatherland. It faded from our vision like 
 a speck on the horizon, as we followed in the 
 sun's path to seek our home in the far off West. 
 Even the youngest of our number waited and 
 watched till land could no longer be seen; 
 and sea and sky alone were visible. 
 
 We saw tears in our mother's eyes. She 
 remembered friends left behind, and felt we 
 were going a long way to make new ones. 
 We, too, were ready to weep, thinking of the 
 companions we were never more to meet. But 
 father kept a brave heart, and spoke cheering 
 words to us, which made smiles come and chase 
 the tears away. 
 
 Childhood's heart, like the violet-eyed helio- 
 trope, turns ever to the sun. Sorrow beyond 
 its years may weigh it down, but let the sun- 
 light look in, and straightway its chambers are 
 full of light. We were soon well pleased with 
 our home on the deep blue sea. We visited 
 every part of the big ship, and were wonder- 
 fully curious concerning everything about it. 
 There were no resources we did not discover.
 
 73 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 "We asked innumerable questions as to what 
 each meant, what its purpose was, and all else 
 a child's busy brain could think of. 
 
 The experiences of the first few weeks were 
 pleasant. There were calm moonlight nights. 
 These were far more weird and fascinating 
 than moonlight nights on land. At least so we 
 children thought, and we loved to stay up late 
 and watch the silvery matron as she dived 
 down into the ocean, or rested in calm serenity 
 on its bosom. Music and dancing gave to the 
 evening hours a rapid flight. Our amusements 
 in the day time were looking for immense fish, 
 watching the sailors as they climbed to the 
 masthead, or attended to the various work on 
 board ship. We made friends with the captain 
 and steward, with the latter rather more par- 
 ticularly, as occasionally he treated us to lumps 
 of sugar and other good things. 
 
 After four weeks of pleasant weather, our 
 enjoyments were broken in upon by a severe 
 storm, which lasted three days and nights. 
 All this time we were enveloped in a heavy 
 mist ; this became so dense that the sky was 
 dark as night; it hid everything frohi view. 
 " There was not a clear speck in heaven," save 
 when the lightning flashed. For an instant,
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 79 
 
 then, there would be zigzag gleams of light, 
 that made the darkness more fearful. The 
 thunder crashed, making the vault of heaven 
 hideous with wild reverberations. The mad 
 waves lashed each other into fury. The 
 children crouched in terror close to their 
 parents. All was consternation and dismay, 
 for danger seemed inevitable. But Provi- 
 dence interposed, as in days of old ; He bade 
 the turbulent sea "peace be still," and the 
 angry storm subsided. Its sobbings died off 
 in the distance. The sky again was clear, and 
 the voice of the winds sank low as a gentle 
 lullaby song. 
 
 A lovely rainbow was stretched across the 
 heavens. "We knew this was a promise of fair 
 weather. "We remembered it was God's cove- 
 nant with man when another and fiercer storm 
 swept over land and sea, and earth was deluged 
 in its wrath. The ark reminded us of our own 
 good ship. It reached Mount Ararat, and 
 rested there in safety, and the bow was in the 
 clouds, a promise of protection. "We thought 
 our bark would reach its destined port, and we 
 should see God's smile in the sky. 
 
 There was a great variety of people on board 
 ship. Young as I was, I noticed many pecu-
 
 80 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 liaritics ; some in disposition, some in manner, 
 and some in outward appearance. A sea voyage 
 furnishes admirable opportunity of observing 
 character. It is an old saying, " to know 
 people well, you should live with them ; " and 
 though I was a child, I would sit for hours 
 making studies of the persons by whom I was 
 surrounded. A child's perceptions, though im- 
 mature, are acute, if not always accurate. Its 
 preference generally indicates the possession of 
 good and noble traits by the individual pre- 
 ferred. Their nervous sensibility is true, if no 
 higher medium be the avenue leading to their 
 friendships. We have often observed a charm- 
 ing exterior repulse a child, while absolute 
 deformity has attracted. This is because the 
 homely exterior was the garb of a true heart, 
 and the child readily discerned it. The expres- 
 sion is often heard it is a good sign to be 
 loved by the children. 
 
 During the weeks that intervened before we 
 again saw land, we found many kind friends 
 among the passengers, and we had many favor- 
 ites. They entertained us with the telling of 
 interesting and amusing stories. These would 
 excite great wonder; but more frequently 
 unbounded mirth, and peals of ringing, musica] 
 laughter, would be heard all over the ship.
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 81 
 
 It afforded infinite pleasure to every one to 
 see us grouped, eager listeners, while these 
 marvellous stories were being told. Some of 
 them were of the new country to which we 
 were going. Astonishing things were narrated, 
 and we were very credulous, but sometimes 
 they were so highly colored, that we knew 
 they were manufactured at the time for our 
 amusement. The cook would paint his face 
 black, and tell us that he looked like all the 
 Americans did. That when we had been there 
 long enough, we would turn black too. This 
 puzzled us greatly, for he told the story with a 
 grave face, and we feared it might be true. 
 
 The captain also would occasionally join in 
 our sports. He would throw handsful of raisins 
 and prunes over the deck, and have us all 
 scampering to pick them up. We would laugh 
 and shout, and he would be equally merry. 
 We considered this rare fun. In this way the 
 tedium of a long voyage was lessened, and our 
 trip made very pleasant to think upon in the 
 future. 
 
 We had some discomfitures, as well as the 
 older travellers. We were nearly all sea-sick. 
 As the vessel would rock and plunge, our 
 sensations were anything but agreeable. Some-
 
 82 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 times we felt that we would rather die than 
 live. But we encountered only one severe 
 storm, and very little blustering weather; so 
 we could not complain. Our few disagreeable 
 experiences made the pleasant ones all the 
 more acceptable. 
 
 During the journey I had one annoyance; 
 my eyes became terribly inflamed. I did not 
 at first mind it ; I thought it would pass off 
 soon. But the trouble increased, and assumed 
 a virulent form. Everything was done to allay 
 it, but without success It was a continued 
 source of pain ; still we thought it temporary, 
 and my parents were not uneasy. The physi- 
 cian on board thought the irritation resulted 
 from having bathed my eyes in salt water. 
 The result, however, proved more serious than 
 had been anticipated. 
 
 The affliction, slight as it appeared, was the 
 forerunner of disease that no skill could remedy. 
 I did not dream of this for a moment. I was 
 gradually prepared for the loss I was to sustain. 
 Had this not been so, I could not have borne 
 the trial. For years this one shadow was slowly 
 but surely stealing across my path. Tet when 
 it had fallen so deeply that no light could 
 penetrate it, I was saaly stricken. But I will 
 not anticipate.
 
 MART A. NIEMEYER. 83 
 
 When we had been eight weeks on the sea, 
 we came in sight of land. The shores at first 
 appeared like a dark thread along the horizon. 
 Then the outline became clearer. We watched 
 intensely, as objects one after another became 
 defined. It seemed to us the land of promise. 
 All were in excellent spirits, for we had come 
 through great peril, and were thankful for the 
 near prospect of being on land again. 
 
 The children were gathered on deck, eagerly 
 looking on, when suddenly they shouted, " See, 
 see, there are the black people the cook told us 
 of!" Sure enough, there they were, a num- 
 ber of them, coining towards the vessel in small 
 schooners. The sight to us was a novel one. 
 We began to think the stories we had heard 
 about the people in America were true. Some 
 of us feared we might turn black too, as we had 
 been told we should, when we had been long 
 enough in the country. The older people were 
 amused at our consternation. They told us 
 they thought the cook must have meant the 
 Indians, when he said the Americans were all 
 black ; or that he was joking with us, trying to 
 see how much he could make us believe. We 
 were much interested in the coal black shiny 
 faces before us, and gazed at them as long as 
 we had the opportunity.
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Four days after our first sight of land, our 
 vessel arrived safe in port. It was early on 
 Sunday morning. As soon as we were on 
 shore, we returned thanks to God, for His 
 merciful preservation, and sang a hymn of 
 praise. 
 
 When we tried to walk, we found ourselves 
 unable to do so without swaying from side to 
 side. We could scarcely stand upright ; when 
 we endeavored to do so, we felt as if we should 
 surely fall down. We had become accustomed 
 to the motion of the ship, and in spite of all 
 our efforts, we would rock as it had done when 
 bearing us o'er the bright blue sea. In a few 
 days, however, we managed to overcome this 
 undulating tendency, and walked very well 
 for people who had not been on terra Jirma for 
 so long a time.
 
 MARY A. NIKMEYER. 85 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " The hearth of home has a constant flame, 
 
 And pure as vestal fire; 
 'Twill burn, 'twill burn, forever the same, 
 For Nature feeds the pyre." 
 
 Mrs. Hale. 
 
 " Affliction is the wholesome soil of virtue ; 
 Where patience, honor, sweet humanity, 
 Calm fortitude, take root and strongly flourish." 
 
 Mallet. 
 
 "Thou bright and star-like spirit, 
 
 That in my visions mild, 
 I see 'mid heaven's seraphic host 
 O, canst thou be my child? 
 
 Thy feeble feet, unsteady, 
 
 That tottered as they trod, 
 With angels walk the heavenly paths, 
 
 Or stand before their God." 
 
 Thomas Ward. 
 
 "We landed in Baltimore, a thriving, prosper- 
 ous city, whose open port promised then to vie 
 with those of older fame. This promise has 
 not failed; it has been proved she has great 
 advantages for commercial purposes. We
 
 86 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 remained here only two days, a too short time 
 to see much of the city or to become acquainted 
 with the people. Everything we saw or heard 
 impressed us favorably. The monument in 
 memory of George Washington we thought 
 imposing and very beautiful. The shaft, in its 
 great height typifying the lofty character of 
 the Father of his Country, appeared to us a 
 most fitting memorial. At least, when it had 
 been explained to us how good and great a 
 man it honored, we realized this as far as child- 
 ren might be expected to ; not with so large an 
 appreciation as older persons, of course. "We 
 have since learned to estimate for ourselves 
 the wonderful combination of virtues found in 
 this man. We are reminded here of many 
 tributes paid his memory, for in every land his 
 praise has been sung. 
 
 We find, perhaps, the greatest force and the 
 truest portraiture from an English lady's gifted 
 pen. She gives the first place among heroes to 
 America's noble son. We will quote a part 
 of her eloquent thought : 
 
 "Rome had its Csesar, jjreat and brave, but stain was 
 
 on his wreath; 
 
 He lived the heartless conqueror, and died the tyrant's 
 death.
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 87 
 
 France had its Eagle; but his wings, though lofty 
 they might soar, 
 
 Were spread in false ambition's flight, and dipped in 
 murder's gore. 
 
 Those hero-gods, whose mighty sway would fain have 
 chained the waves, 
 
 Who fleshed their blades with tiger zeal, to make a 
 world of slaves, 
 
 Who, though their kindred barred the path, still fiercely 
 waded on; 
 
 Oh, where shall be ifteir ' glory ' by the side of Wash- 
 ington ! 
 
 He fought, but not with love of strife ; he struck but 
 to defend; 
 
 And ere he turned a people's foe, he sought to be a 
 friend. 
 
 He strove to keep his country's right by reason's gentle 
 word, 
 
 And sighed when fell injustice threw the challenge- 
 sword to sword. 
 
 He stood the firm, the calm, the wise, the patriot and 
 the sage; 
 
 He showe< no deep, avenging hate, no burst of despot 
 ra fe e. 
 
 He stood for liberty and truth, and dauntlessly led on, 
 
 Till shouts of victory gave forth the name of Wash- 
 ington." 
 
 But all enconium is vain to give the simple 
 grandeur of a character such as his : the heart of 
 the people makes each its estimate, and offers 
 its meed of worship.
 
 88 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 We thought Baltimore must be a pleasant 
 place to live in, not bustling and noisy, nor 
 over-given to business. 
 
 Sociality seemed a predominant element. 
 The people were hospitable and kind. They 
 were moderate in their modes of living, com- 
 
 O * 
 
 pared with residents of other cities of equal 
 pretensions. These views I have heard my 
 parents frequently express as their first impres- 
 sions of Baltimore, and I have since found 
 them correct, from my own observation. We 
 liked the place and people exceedingly. 
 
 Our sight-seeing over, we left for Middle- 
 town, Frederick county, Maryland, sixty miles 
 distant. My father's brother had settled there 
 soon after he reachpd America. We spent a 
 few very pleasant days with my uncle's family, 
 talking of everything connected with our former 
 home, recalling many persons and events almost 
 forgotten by those who were now so removed 
 from them. 
 
 Father rented a house in the village. When 
 We had moved into it, we felt that we were 
 once more in our own home. We had passed 
 through various trials, and it was delight- 
 ful to us to be again quietly settled. There 
 was relief in the very idea, and a feeling of
 
 MAEY A. NIEMEYER. 89 
 
 repose that we had not known for months. 
 The villagers were kind in many ways. They 
 could not understand our language, nor we 
 their's ; still they aided us greatly. They had 
 a disposition to be of service, and words were 
 not necessary. When the heart is kindly dis- 
 posed, all obstacles may be overcome. Generous 
 feelings will always find expression, even though 
 it be but with the ready hand, or friendly 
 smile. " Actions speak louder than words " is 
 a true saying, which has lost none of its force 
 in its time-worn usage. 
 
 As soon after we were settled as my father's 
 pressing business duties would permit, he called 
 in a physician to examine my eyes. They had 
 been growing worse instead of better. They 
 were inflamed and painful. I could use them 
 but little without acute suffering. Dr. Smith 
 examined them carefully, and pronounced the 
 disease a severe form of ophthalmia, which, he 
 feared, could not be arrested. He did not think 
 my sight was in danger, but I should always 
 have weak vision, owing to the inflammation 
 having assumed a chronic form. He pronounced 
 one eye more seriously affected than the other, 
 still thought the sight of one was strong, and 
 not likely to be impaired. This was encourag* 
 8
 
 90 ATTTOBIOGRAPTIY OF 
 
 ing intelligence, for we had now begun to dread 
 my going blind. 
 
 In order to prevent the inflammation spread- 
 ing, Dr. Smith put a seton in the back of my 
 neck. This was to remain there three months. 
 It was very painful, but I strove to bear it 
 patiently, as there was a fearful possibility, if 
 the doctor's advice were not followed strictly. 
 
 Father thought it best at once to place my 
 brothers at trades. He succeeded in accom- 
 plishing his wishes, satisfactorily to himself and 
 to them also. Two went about fifteen miles 
 from home, and one found employment in the 
 village. My two younger sisters and myself 
 remained at home to attend school. Many 
 strange conjectures were indulged in respecting 
 the new school. We wondered if it would be 
 like the one in Deisel ; if the teacher would be 
 as good and kind, and as good looking ; if we 
 should see any faces blackened like the cook's, 
 when he got himself up for our amusement ; 
 these, and many other foolish things were in 
 our thoughts, as the time for going approached. 
 
 As soon as mother had made some necessary 
 arrangements, we started. We found it very 
 like the one we had attended. We saw no 
 black faces, only bright sunny ones rosy and
 
 MARY A. NIEMETER. 91 
 
 laughing just such as we had often seen 
 before. We did not feel that we were in a 
 strange place, but quite at home, more so 
 perhaps, than we had felt since we were last in 
 a similar place. We recalled a band of happy 
 children and a kind teacher in a land beyond 
 the sea, and hoped our present associations 
 would prove just as pleasant. 
 
 We had been taught the English alphabet 
 since our arrival in Middletown, by our Sunday 
 school teacher, Miss Elizabeth Young. This 
 lady had endeared herself to us by her winning 
 ways, and the interest she felt in our advance- 
 ment. It was fortunate for us that we had 
 learned even the alphabet of the language 
 which we were to speak. We felt less embar- 
 rassment, than if we had been utterly ignorant. 
 We remembered with gratitude the assistance 
 we had received. Our friend had not thought 
 of the service her instruction would be to us. 
 
 When I had been in school about eight 
 months, my eyes grew much worse. They were 
 weaker, and sometimes I could scarcely see at 
 all. This interfered greatly with my improve- 
 ment. I made little if any progress. One dav 
 the teacher, Mr. Haupt, said to me, " Mary, 
 you do not read as well now as you did six
 
 92 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 weeks ago." I had not told him with what 
 difficulty I could see at all. My eyes appeared 
 no more inflamed than they had for some time, 
 and he was surprised that I did not improve, 
 as he knew me to be studious. 
 
 My spirits were depressed. I had no heart 
 for work of any sort, as everything cost me so 
 great an effort. I could not bear to talk of my 
 affliction, therefore endured a great deal of 
 pain without speaking of it. The grief is 
 heaviest of which we cannot speak. For our 
 lighter sorrows we may ask sympathy, but if 
 we have irremediable sorrow, the heart will 
 hide it away, and the lips will be silent. 
 
 For months an indefinable dread had been 
 hanging over me. It began now to take form, 
 and I knew a severe calamity was in store for 
 me. No one looked or spoke hopefully, when 
 the condition of my eyes was the subject of 
 conversation. When I turned to those I loved, 
 their faces were sad. This was confirmation 
 for my worst fears. I could not be light-hearted 
 or gay, as other children were. I would often 
 steal away from my companions, and go. off by 
 myself to weep. I strove to overcome these 
 feelings ; struggled hard to reason with myself, 
 how foolish it was; but all to no avail; the
 
 MART A. NIEMEYER. 93 
 
 pall was settling on my life, and I could not 
 help grieving. 
 
 Mother at this time was often more quiet 
 than usual. When asked why this was so, she 
 reminded us that the anniversary of the death 
 of our little brother Louis would soon occur. 
 
 She had not forgotten the little sleeper ; and 
 as the merry Christmas time approached, her 
 thoughts wandered to the land where her babe 
 was buried. Her heart echoed the tender 
 musings of the poet, as she thought of her 
 child one year in heaven. 
 
 "One year among the angels, beloved, thou hast been; 
 One year has heaven's white portal shut back the sound 
 
 of sin : 
 And yet no voice, no whisper, comes floating down 
 
 from thee, 
 To tell us what glad wonder a year of heaven may be. 
 
 Our hearts before it listen, the beautiful closed gate, 
 The silence yearns around us; we listen as we wait. 
 It is thy heavenly birthday, on earth thy lilies bloom; 
 In thine immortal garland canst find for these no 
 room? 
 
 Thou lovedst all things lovely when walking with us 
 
 here ; 
 Now from the height of heaven seems earth no longer 
 
 dear ? 
 "We cannot paint thee moving in white robed state 
 
 afar,
 
 94 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Nor dream our flower of comfort, a cool and distant 
 
 star. 
 
 Heaven is but life made richer ; there can be no loss ; 
 To meet our love and longing thou hast no gulf to 
 
 cross ; 
 
 No adamant between us uproars its rocky screen; 
 A veil before us only, thou in the light serene. 
 
 That veil 'twixt earth and heaven a breath might 
 
 waft aside; 
 
 We breathe one air, beloved, we follow one dear Guide : 
 Passed into open vision, out of our mists and rain, 
 Thou seest how sorrow blossoms; how peace is won 
 
 from pain. 
 
 As half we feel thee leaning from thy deep calm of 
 
 bliss, 
 
 To say of earth, 'Beloved, how beautiful it is! 
 The lilies in this splendor, the green leaves in this 
 
 dew; 
 O earth is also heaven, with God's light clothed anew !' 
 
 So when the sky seems bluer, and when the blossoms 
 wear 
 
 Some tender, mystic shading, we never knew was there, 
 
 We'll say, We see things earthly by light of cherub- 
 eyes; 
 
 He bends where we are gazing to-day, from Paradise.' 
 
 Because we know thee near us, and nearer still to 
 
 Him 
 
 Who fills thy cup of being with glory to the brim; 
 We will not stain with grieving our fair, though fainter 
 
 light, 
 But cling to thee in spirit, as if thou wert in sight.
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 95 
 
 And as in waves of beauty the swift years come and 
 
 go, 
 
 Upon celestial currents our deeper life shall flow; 
 Hearing from that sweet country where blighting never 
 
 came, 
 Love chime the hours immortal, in earth and heaven 
 
 the same." 
 
 "We shared with our mother her loving recol- 
 lection of our little brother, but we felt he was 
 happy, and did not mourn. It was the first 
 Christmas since his heaven-life began. We 
 should miss him from our sports. But our 
 household pet was at home " in a mansion not 
 made with hands," where, if we led holy lives, 
 we should again see him, with no fear of 
 separation. 
 
 "We were pleasantly situated at this time, 
 and should have had no cause for unhappiness, 
 had not the one dark cloud been in my sky ; 
 still all strove not to murmur, but to hope for 
 the best, till the worst had surely come-
 
 96 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 "Seest tbou my home? 'tis where yon woods are waving 
 
 In their dark richness to the sunny air ; 
 Where yon blue stream, a thousand flower banks laving, 
 Leads down the hills a vein of light 'tis there. 
 
 Midst these green haunts how many a spring lies gleam- 
 ing, 
 
 Fring'd with the violet, color'd with the skies; 
 My girlhood's haunt through days of summer dreaming, 
 Under young leaves that shook with melodies." 
 
 Felicia Hemans. 
 
 " The loveliest village of the plain, 
 Where health and plenty cheered the laboring swain; 
 How often have I paused on every charm! 
 The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm, 
 The never-failing brook, the busy mill, 
 The decent church that topped the neighboring hill. 
 
 * * * * * * 
 
 Let the rich deride, the proud disdain 
 These simple blessings of the lowly train ; 
 To me more dear, congenial to my heart, 
 One native charm, than all the gloss of art." 
 
 Oliver Goldsmith. 
 
 "My boy, thou wilt dream the world is fair, 
 
 And thy spirit will sigh to roam; 
 And thou must go; but never when there 
 Forget the light of home." 
 
 Mrs. Hale.
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEB. 97 
 
 The Spring following onr arrival in America 
 father became acquainted with Mr. Routzahn, 
 one of the wealthiest farmers in Frederick 
 county. This gentleman desired that he should 
 assist him on his farm, located three miles from 
 the village; and as it was too far for him to 
 return home at night, it was arranged that we 
 should occupy a house on the place. We 
 thought we never should like country life; 
 still, we preferred having father with us, and 
 were glad, under the circumstances, to make the 
 change. The family were very social, and 
 always cordial in their intercourse with us. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Routzahn, a son and daughter, 
 constituted their household group. My sisters 
 and myself spent much of our time with Miss 
 Routzahn, she being anxious to learn German. 
 She was very industrious in her study of the 
 language ; indeed, in every thing else also. It 
 might have been supposed her daily bread 
 depended upon the accomplishment of whatever 
 she undertook, with such zeal and persistence 
 did she apply herself. 
 
 The modes of farming differed in some 
 
 respects from those employed in Germany. 
 
 The same kinds of machinery were not used. 
 
 It required time to understand fully these pecu- 
 
 9
 
 98 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 liarities ; but father had been a practical farmer, 
 and he soon overcame the difficulties in his 
 way, and succeeded admirably. He assisted 
 Mr. Routzahn on this farm a year ; after which 
 time it was proposed he should remove to 
 another, still larger, five miles distant, and 
 take full charge of it. This offer suited us in 
 every way, and was promptly accepted. We 
 now found ourselves most agreeably situated. 
 It was a lovely place, and we thought there 
 surely could be nothing more for us to desire. 
 This last farm was in that grouping of beauti- 
 ful gardens found in Middletown valley. This 
 valley is not unknown. It is like a diamond, 
 more to be admired for its beauty than its size. 
 Its population is about ten thousand souls. 
 The inhabitants are principally farmers. Scat- 
 tered here and there are many pretty villages. 
 These are not large, but are neat and attractive, 
 just a pleasant distance from each other. The 
 people are industrious, and are also talkative 
 and lively, with perhaps, if we may venture to 
 say it, a spice of gossip, too, among them. We 
 had reason to judge so, for we found that we 
 as strangers, had elicited the usual amount of 
 curiosity. When this was satisfied, we found 
 the people kind and clever. Nor do we think
 
 MAEY A. KIEMEYEB. 99 
 
 them in tlieir interest in their neighbors' affairs 
 very unlike their friends and sisters who live 
 in towns or cities. Any new comer is a subject 
 of surmise, for a day at least. In large cities 
 there is so much to occupy one's attention, that 
 there is not time to be quite as curious as 
 villagers have the reputation of being. 
 
 I never felt like endorsing the customary 
 hits at village gossip, while the small talk of 
 older sisters, larger grown, is allowed to go 
 unimpeached. People will talk, whether it be 
 in city or in village, and the weakness is not 
 generally as unamiable as it is made to appear. 
 A village was my home all the early part of 
 my life; and I heard less mere idle gossip than 
 when I resided in a city. Fashion, parade, 
 show, a neighbor's style of dress, seemed to be 
 reigning topics, just as much as in the village, 
 even in an added degree in proportion to its 
 greater size. In either place 
 
 " It is a custom 
 More honor'd in the breach, than the observance." 
 
 There are themes lofty and ennobling, quite 
 enough to fill each little span of life ; and it 
 does seem pitiable while this is true, that men 
 and women should condescend to the very
 
 100 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 drudgery of speech. The evil is not often 
 negative in its influence, but more apt always 
 to do harm than good. 
 
 So much for our opinion of gossip, wherever 
 found. Now I will take you, patient reader, 
 back to Middletown valley, the beauty of 
 which is really indescribable. It should be 
 seen to be appreciated. Fancy a cluster of 
 jewels : an emerald, a garnet, and an amethyst, 
 forming a Mosaic groundwork ; an atmosphere 
 around, white and soft as a pearl, with an opal 
 sky above; in the distance the mountains, 
 rugged and sublime for a setting, and you see 
 it as it appeared to me when first my eyes 
 looked upon it, and as it has been in my 
 memory ever since. 
 
 Mountains overlook the entire area of the 
 valley ; there they stand, God's sentinels, tow- 
 ering in their height, the embodiment of 
 majesty, and fitting symbols of strength. 
 Their sides and summits are covered with 
 forests. They give birth to blessed streamlets, 
 that ripple and gurgle their way to the valley 
 below, irrigating it, and causing it to yield 
 richly all the products of the soil. Again 
 these streamlets form lovely brooks at the 
 foot of the mountains, where they sparkle and
 
 MAEY A. NIEMEYER. 101 
 
 spread out in silver sheen; or wearying of 
 restraint, make a glad escape, and go laughing 
 over pebbly beds, through fields and meadows, 
 into farm yards, where we see them glittering 
 and sparkling, as if in excess of joyousness. 
 
 The landscape is a network of beautiful 
 views, a very kaleidoscope in its ever-changing 
 scenes. Hills rise here and there, clumps of 
 trees form natural arbors, with now and then 
 a lonely scion of the wood, in solitary pride, 
 lifting itself up from the earth as if scorning 
 companionship. Under the spreading boughs 
 cattle browse and doze the hours away, indolent 
 and blissful, a picture of calm content. 
 
 On a graceful slope may be seen a simple 
 village church, its gilded spire glittering in the 
 sunlight ; near it are rustic hamlets, these are 
 picturesque, though unpretentious; scattered 
 on the hillsides are more stylish dwellings, the 
 homes of the wealthier residents, the whole 
 forming a lovely rural landscape. Truly this 
 valley is a garden spot, abundantly fertile, 
 lavish in its crops, in its fruits, and adorned 
 with a luxurious growth of flowers. Well- 
 filled barns attest how the farmer's toil has 
 been rewarded ; and there is besides a general 
 appearance of prosperity.
 
 102 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Our surroundings were of a most delightful 
 character. We almost forgot there was distress 
 or vicissitude to be encountered. The days flew 
 swiftly by in this Eden-home. Our parents 
 had passed through severe perplexities, but 
 now they looked forward to long-continued 
 happiness. How quickly we accommodate 
 ourselves to such a condition of things. We 
 are ever ready to welcome joy, but are startled 
 if sorrow follow in its wake. We are creatures 
 easily made to laugh or weep, and hours full 
 of happy thought are often the forerunners of 
 those marked only by anxious foreboding. 
 
 Shortly after we were settled so comfortably 
 in our new home, father was surprised by 
 intelligence received in a letter from brother 
 Andrew, that brother Charles had left his situa- 
 tion, and no one knew where he had gone. 
 This distressed us all, for we supposed he was 
 entirely satisfied with the arrangements made 
 for him. Father and mother had not thought 
 for a moment, even if not pleased, that he 
 would leave without consulting them. No 
 pains were spared to learn his whereabouts, 
 but without avail. His plans had been so made 
 and carried out, that all search failed. We were 
 beginning to dread lest some dire calamity had
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 103 
 
 happened to him. We feared, at best, years 
 might elapse before we should hear from him. 
 Mother would sit for hours, wondering what 
 had become of her missing boy. He had started 
 out to bear the buffettings of the world alone. 
 She longed to welcome him again to her mater- 
 nal care. She had tender words and loving 
 smiles ready to greet him when he should 
 return. She believed he would come back, 
 and patiently waited and watched ; 
 
 "For long is the time a son may roam, 
 Ere he tire his mother out." 
 
 Middletown contains six churches. The 
 ' denominations are as following : the Reformed, 
 the Lutheran, the Methodist, the United 
 Brethren, the Roman Catholic ; besides these, 
 the colored people have a church; they are 
 generally Methodists in belief. The people are 
 religiously inclined throughout the valley, and 
 the various places of worship are well attended. 
 
 On Sunday morning the farmers with their 
 families, are seen in their carriages going to 
 town to worship God with the gathered multi- 
 tude. After service many remain to have a 
 chat, while the congregation is slowly dispers- 
 ing. Then they return to their quiet homes.
 
 104 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 There are three day schools in the place; 
 these are well conducted, and the scholars 
 make creditable improvement. I was a pupil 
 while I remained in the village, and was much 
 pleased with both the teachers and the scholars. 
 
 Father's business relations with Mr. Rout- 
 zahn continued to be of the most pleasant 
 character. They seemed to understand each 
 other thoroughly. But we were destined to 
 make another change. Miss Routzahn had 
 married Mr. Doub, a gentleman residing in the 
 valley, and the farm we had was desired for 
 their home. Our friendship was unvarying, 
 notwithstanding our separation. These were 
 halcyon days, and they and the friends asso- 
 ciated with them, will always bring to us 
 welcome remembrances.
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 "My boy, when the world is dark to thee, 
 Then turn to the light of home." 
 
 Mrs. Hale. 
 
 "If hearty sorrow 
 Be a sufficient remedy for offence, 
 I tender it here." 
 
 Shaks. Two Gentlemen of Verona. 
 
 "'Tis easier for the generous to forgive, 
 Than for offence to ask it." 
 
 Tlwmsorfs Edmund and Eleonora. 
 
 "So now is come our joyful'st feast; 
 
 Let every man be jolly; 
 Each room with ivy leaves is drest, 
 
 And every post with holly. 
 Though some churls at our mirth repine, 
 Round your foreheads garlands twine, 
 And let us all be merry." 
 
 George Wither. 
 
 Four months had elapsed since we had heard 
 of the disappearance of brother Charles. Father 
 had been unable to gain any information con- 
 cerning him. We were at an utter loss to 
 know why he should have gone away in the
 
 106 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 manner he had. We would not permit our- 
 selves to cherish for a moment the idea that 
 any harm had overtaken him. Just when 
 father had determined to make no further 
 inquiry or search, he received a letter from my 
 grandfather in Germany ; and strange enough, 
 this letter contained information relating to 
 Charles. He had written from Baltimore to 
 grandfather, and had desired that news of his 
 whereabouts be sent to his parents. He had 
 a good home with Mr. Gaehle, owner of a 
 large piano manufactory, who had no child- 
 ren, and desired to adopt him. He was going 
 to school, and, besides, was learning music. 
 He longed to see father, and expressed an 
 earnest desire that he would come to Baltimore. 
 Father started immediately. On arriving at 
 Mr. Gaehle's establishment, he inquired for 
 Charles. Yery soon father and son met, and 
 great was the rejoicing. The anxiety and 
 suspense that had been endured were forgotten 
 in the happiness of the reunion. 
 
 He told father how he happened to come 
 to Baltimore. He had taken a fancy to the 
 city during the short time we were there, upon 
 our arrival in the country, and had determined, 
 if ever in his power, he would get there again.
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEK. 107 
 
 He thought he would like to make it his home. 
 The situation he had in Urbana did not suit 
 him; and so on one occasion, meeting a farmer 
 going to Baltimore with his team and produce, 
 he seized the opportunity and accompanied 
 the man. 
 
 It was late in the evening when they reached 
 the city, and having neither friends nor acquain- 
 tances, he wandered desolate and lonely through 
 the streets, wondering where he should find 
 lodging for the night. He was sauntering 
 along thoughtfully, and not in a very hopeful 
 mood, when an elderly lady came up to him, 
 and asked him why he looked so sad. He told 
 her he had just arrived ; that he was a stranger, 
 without friends or home. She told him if he 
 was a good boy, she could get him a home with 
 her nephew. This was welcome intelligence, 
 and was most gladly received. She said he 
 must go with her to her home for the night, 
 and the next day she would take him to her 
 nephew's house. 
 
 After a night's rest and a good breakfast, 
 he started with his new friend for the home 
 she had promised him. The gentleman proved 
 to be Mr. Gaehle. He was pleased with 
 Charles; indeed, the favorable impression
 
 108 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 was mutual, and an agreement was at once 
 made that my brother should become one of 
 the family. He found his friends all they 
 appeared to be on a first acquaintance, and he 
 was delighted with his prospects. He thought 
 himself extremely fortunate. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Gaehle urged him to write to 
 his parents, and inform them where he was. 
 He did not tell the whole of his story, 
 fearino- it would make them think less of him. 
 
 O 
 
 They supposed that his parents were still in 
 Germany, and that he had come to America 
 alone. There was an evident mystery; but he 
 conducted himself well, and seemed to value 
 their friendship ; so his kind benefactors con- 
 tinued their confidence in him. 
 
 Charles hesitated writing for some time, 
 fearing his father's displeasure; but finally 
 he determined to write to his grandfather, 
 explaining all the circumstances, and request 
 him to intercede in his behalf. 
 
 During the time he had been with them, Mr. 
 and Mrs. Gaehle had been so generous, and con- 
 siderate, that he felt he could no longer withhold 
 his full confidence. Mrs. Gaehle had been like 
 a mother to him. He concluded to tell her all : 
 how he had been placed at a trade by his father,
 
 MART A. NIEMEYEK. 109 
 
 but not liking his employer, he had left, and 
 found his way to Baltimore. He told her his 
 parents were not in Germany, but were living 
 in Frederick county ; that he had not informed 
 his father where he was, because he believed it 
 would sorely vex him. He said he was too 
 unhappy to remain with the family with whom 
 he had been placed, therefore resolved to try 
 and find a home for himself, and then inform 
 his parents what he had done. 
 
 While Mrs. Gaehle sympathized with him, 
 yet she urged him immediately to fulfil his 
 intention of writing home, which, so far, he 
 had failed to do. She assured him it was the 
 only correct course. He took her advice, and 
 wrote to grandfather, and in due time the 
 intelligence reached father. 
 
 After hearing the flattering account of Mr. 
 and Mrs. Gaehle, which Charles related so 
 minutely, it could only be admitted he had 
 indeed found true friends, and he very properly 
 set a high value upon them. If he remained 
 with them, they promised to educate him, and in 
 every respect do a good part by him. Upon 
 weighing the matter carefully, and conferring 
 with mother, it was decided the whole occur- 
 rence was providential ; and father and mother
 
 110 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 determined not to interfere. They gave their 
 consent, and Baltimore became my brother's 
 home. 
 
 This circumstance resulted advantageously 
 for Charles; yet it should be no precedent. 
 He should not have acted without the advice 
 of his parents. Where such a course might in 
 one instance turn out fortunately, it is sure to 
 be disastrous in a majority of cases. " Honor 
 thy father and mother" is the command to 
 which the promise is attached, " that thy days 
 may be long in the land which the Lord thy 
 God giveth thee." The only safe plan is to 
 obey this command : whosoever faileth to do 
 so, standeth in slippery places. 
 
 Father prolonged his stay in Baltimore for a 
 few days after his adjustment of Charles' 
 affairs, to select for those at home Christinas 
 presents. The season for such remembrances 
 had arrived, and it would not do for him to 
 return without taking some gift to each ex- 
 pectant one. Every face would be darkened 
 if he came home empty-handed, and his wel- 
 come would be anything but cordial. He knew 
 this, and made arrangements accordingly ; for 
 each member of the family, down to the tiniest, 
 he purchased some precious love-token.
 
 MAEY A. NIEMEYEE. Ill 
 
 Oh, these joyous Christmas days! To the 
 heart of a child their advent is the harbinger 
 of joy. For the mature they also have attrac- 
 tions. We love to see others made happy, 
 even though it be by the presentation of only 
 a child's trinket. Our hearts are lighter as we 
 look at the little ones in their Christinas frolics; 
 and we recall the time, long past it may be, 
 when we were children, and greeted the merry 
 Christmas season with bounding hearts. We 
 remember how rapturously we gazed on the 
 heavily-laden tree; how we danced, and hopped, 
 and skipped again in very wantonness of glee. 
 
 The heart must be cold, aye, cold unto death, 
 that does not feel the glow of warmth shed by 
 the brightly burning Christmas log! In the 
 city the pleasant chimney fire is no more, but 
 even if more modern ways be had of keeping out 
 old King Frost, we can still in fancy bring back 
 
 " The days of yore, 
 
 When our fathers kept the Christmas time 
 And burned the Yule that is no more. 
 
 "When walls of hall and hut were hung 
 With ivy and with holly boughs; 
 And minstrels went from house lo house, 
 And all night long their carols sung. 
 
 "When jolly dancers shook the floor 
 With country reels, which fiddlers played;
 
 112 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 And many a little man and maid 
 At blind-man's buff and battle door, 
 
 Peopled the corners with delight; 
 The old folks sat at fox-and-goose, 
 And let their tongues and fancies loose 
 In tales of lords and ladies bright. 
 
 And then the world of solid cheer, 
 In meats and drinks for rich and poor; 
 The meanest kept an open door, 
 For Christmas came but once a year." 
 
 Father returned, bringing his treasures, and 
 we hailed him with glad huzzas. Our gifts 
 were stowed snugly away, we were not even 
 permitted to see the contents of the mysterious 
 packages ; but we feasted our imagination on 
 what they might contain. We listened eagerly 
 to father's account of Charles and his new 
 home. "We thought his adventures had been 
 marvellous, and we wondered if he would have 
 as good a time as we knew we should when 
 Christmas came. 
 
 When the day arrived, and we all were as- 
 sembled to eat the Christmas dinner, we missed 
 our absent brother ; but we knew he had found 
 friends, and our only regret was that he could 
 not be with us to share our mirth and feasting. 
 We wanted him to help us to welcome the ad- 
 vent of old Santa Clans, the patron saint of all 
 good children everywhere.
 
 MARY A. NIkMEYER. 113 
 
 "When evening had closed in, and the lamps 
 were lit, we gathered round our well-filled 
 bush, and to each were given the pretty things 
 that had been placed there for them by loving 
 hands. Again we missed our brother. Thus 
 it is at all times, joy with regret is blended. 
 From our family chain one link was missing, 
 and the thought would come back to us in our 
 gayest hours. Yet we were happy, though a 
 single pleasure was withheld. We had no 
 sympathy with those who in dismal tones would 
 croak, 
 
 "The merry Christmas days are past, 
 The antique plenty is no more." 
 
 Our heart was with "the living present;" 
 and, ever when the rolling seasons should 
 bring round the joyous Christmas time, we 
 hoped to 
 
 "Feast until the tapers shine 
 And day is dead and curfews toll." 
 
 10
 
 114: AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " One sorrow which throws 
 
 Its bleak shade alike o'er our joys and our woes; 
 To which life nothing darker or brighter can bring,^ 
 For which joy has no balm and affliction no sting!" 
 
 Moore. 
 
 "Oh, how this spring of life resembleth 
 
 The uncertain glory of an April day, 
 Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, 
 And, by-and-by, a cloud takes all away!" 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 "What can we not endure, 
 When pains are lessened by the hope of cure?" 
 
 NabVs Microcosmus. 
 
 "How disappointment tracks 
 The steps of hope!" 
 
 Landon. 
 
 "Who finds not Providence all good and wise, 
 Alike in what it gives, and what denies?" 
 
 Pope's Essay on Man. 
 
 The cloud that for a long time had been 
 darkening my sky, was now fast shutting the 
 sunlight out forever. My sight was rapidly 
 failing. I could scarcely see well enough to 
 distinguish objects. Deep shadows were gath-
 
 MART A. NIEMEYER. 115 
 
 ering over everything in Nature. I felt that 
 it was my doom to sit in perpetual darkness. 
 Physicians all agreed in the opinion that my 
 sight could not be restored, and the unwelcome 
 intelligence bore heavily upon my spirits, 
 already much depressed by the overhanging 
 dread I had for months endured. I strove to 
 bear with resignation the fearful affliction now 
 so surely in store for ine. The dispensation 
 seemed severe, yet I tried not to murmur. I 
 felt as if life would be only a period of suffering. 
 The outer world was being hid from me, yet 
 God had sent this great sorrow to me. Tie 
 knew its uses ; I must wait to know. 
 
 Notwithstanding the cause I had for being 
 sad, and my family, in sympathy with me, yet 
 we all were happy in every other respect. 
 Peace and plenty were the presiding angels of 
 our homestead. There was but the one sorrow 
 to mar our felicity. Our hearts would doubt- 
 less be too surely wedded to earth, too closely 
 knit to its fleeting joys, were it not that ever 
 there is something to call our thoughts away 
 from things of time and sense ; something to 
 make us look forward to a home where bliss 
 alone doth reign ; where no sorrow nor pain 
 cometh.
 
 116 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 Oil, weary hearts, rejoice, " earth has no 
 sorrow which heaven cannot cure." Oh, delvers 
 in earth's alloy, be of good cheer, in heaven the 
 very streets are paved with "pure gold like 
 unto clear glass." Oh, ye who sit in darkness 
 with folded hands and pensive brow, lift up 
 your songs of everlasting praise. In yon city 
 of the New Jerusalem, ye have no need of 
 sun, or moon, or golden candlestick, for there 
 is no night there. And ye may look upon the 
 King in all His beauty, throned in majesty, and 
 ye may see Him as He is. There will be no 
 dimmed vision, no orbs obscured ; but clearer 
 sio-ht than was ever vouchsafed on earth shall 
 
 O 
 
 be given, with which to gaze through all 
 eternity upon glory ineffable, and the faces of 
 the loved lost for a time to earthly contem- 
 plation. 
 
 Father us.ed every means to improve the 
 condition of my eyes, A number of physicians 
 had been consulted, but with no encouragement 
 that a healthy restoration cou!4 be hoped for. 
 It was thought by some, perhaps, I might 
 retain imperfect vision for years, provided I 
 did not tax my sight by reading or study. 
 
 I had been under careful medical treatment 
 for two years, but without improvement.
 
 MAEY A. NIEMEYEK. 117 
 
 When a very little girl, a slight humor had 
 appeared on my head, of this I had been 
 relieved, but the disease had settled in my eyes 
 and was the cause of my eventual loss of sight. 
 One day a stranger who had been overtaken 
 by a storm, took shelter in our house. He 
 observed the inflamed appearance of my eyes, 
 and inquired of father the cause. Father 
 explained to him the symptoms that had from 
 time to time been developed, and he also told 
 the visitor he feared a total loss of sight was 
 inevitable. Our guest thought not so ; he said 
 he knew a remedy which could not fail to 
 arrest the inflammation ; then the eyes would 
 be entirely well again. This was, indeed, 
 joyful intelligence; and as every previous 
 remedy had failed, we hoped this might be 
 successful. It was to apply red precipitate, a 
 poisonous preparation of mercury, mixed with 
 unsalted better, to my eyes. It was done as 
 the stranger had said it should be, three times 
 a day. The result was most disastrous; the 
 calamity of my life was hastened. I refer to 
 this circumstance that persons may avoid the 
 use, especially under conditions of so serious a 
 character as those peculiar to my case, of any 
 mere quack prescription. "While the aid of
 
 118 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 skilful physicians can be secured, the foolish 
 advice of ignorant men and women should not 
 be listened to. 
 
 Very soon after the application of the pre- 
 cipitate, I found I could not distinguish objects, 
 con! J only tell day from night. I do not mean 
 to say that my loss of sight was occasioned by 
 following this man's advice, for it had been 
 decided to be inevitable ; but all who knew of 
 its use, believed the evil had been hastened. 
 If the outer world were to become a blank to 
 me, the more precious every moment of sight. 
 This can only be appreciated by those who 
 have suffered. 
 
 When it became a fact that nothing could 
 be done for me, my father and mother, brothers 
 and sisters, strove to make home the more 
 cheerful. They tried to lessen, if they could, 
 not scatter the gloom. "We spent many happy 
 hours even at this period, though they moved 
 hand in hand with sorrow. My sisters and I 
 attended Sunday school near by, located in the 
 woods. It has been truly said, 
 
 "The groves were God's first temples, ere man had 
 
 learned 
 
 To hew tlie shaft and lay the architrave, 
 And spread tlie roof above them ; ere he framed 
 The lofty vault, to gather and roll back
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEK. 119 
 
 The sound of anthems; in darkling wood, 
 Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down, 
 And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks 
 And supplication." 
 
 This quiet little church, hid away in the 
 forest, seemed the very place to worship. " The 
 proud old world beyond " was shut out, and 
 the song of praise or voice of prayer was inter- 
 rupted only by the sweet melody of bird, 
 gently purling rivulet, or rustling leaves, as 
 stirred by some breeze they mingled in the 
 anthem, swelling from hearts attuned by the 
 harmonies of this woodland sanctuary. Surely 
 simplicity finds readiest acceptance in the eyes 
 of Him who was all meekness and humility, 
 and who divested Himself of His kingly glory 
 and became man, that man through Him might 
 regain the image of his Maker so sadly scarred 
 by sin. 
 
 I have often dwelt with tender memory upon 
 my visits to this forest church, with its rural 
 architecture; its hard, uncushioned benches, 
 with their high straight backs ; its plain pulpit, 
 with no gallery for its choir, and no organ to 
 make vocal the woods around ; and though 
 I have heard sweeter music, more majestic 
 symphonies, I have never heard hymns sung in
 
 120 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 more sincere accord with the pious thought 
 expressed. We build our churches great and 
 grand, emblems they may be 
 
 " Of boundless power 
 And inaccessible majesty." 
 
 This may be well in cities full, in an age of 
 progress ; but if these lofty fanes, with sculp- 
 tured domes or sky kissing spires, leader an 
 instant the wayward heart from teachings it 
 should cherish, they are nought. Better kneel 
 by the roadside or on Sahara's sands and offer 
 supplication, than worship with the outward 
 form, while the senses are betrayed by any 
 external loveliness from that inner court where 
 God himself doth reign. 
 
 Thou dear rustic Church of my youth 
 Where were gathered lessons of truth, 
 Long shall be cherished thy form as of yore, 
 Thy ungarnished walls and dark oaken door. 
 
 "When weary of show I turn to thee now, 
 And sincerely renew youth's early vow ; 
 In fancy again there fall on my ear 
 The tones of some loved one in prayer. 
 
 A memory sweet of the vanishing past-, 
 Thou art to me, too lovely to last ; 
 And each leaflet that remindeth of thee, 
 I treasure with my heart's deep sanctity.
 
 MAKT A. NIEMEYEK. 121 
 
 As Miss Routzahn's marriage had indirectly 
 influenced my father's business prospects, he 
 concluded to carry out a plan he had for some 
 time been considering ; he wished to purchase 
 a medium sized property and settle on it per- 
 manently. It was further his intention it 
 should have grounds sufficiently extensive to 
 admit his having a fruit and vegetable garden, 
 as he intended to cultivate these for the Fred- 
 erick market. 
 
 He had not felt that he could honorably close 
 his engagement with Mr. Eoutzahn ; now the 
 turn affairs had taken, enabled him to execute 
 his long-cherished purpose. He succeeded in 
 purchasing a suitable place ; but the enterprize 
 failed. He found the market overstocked, and 
 could not secure sale for his produce. He dis- 
 posed of his property, and removed again to 
 the village of Middletown. He here secured a 
 situation in Mr. Schlosser's tannery. This 
 enabled us to live comfortably, but with strict 
 economy. 
 
 Our home was not, of course, so pleasant as 
 when we were on the farm ; but we had cheer- 
 ful hearts and willing hands, and readily 
 accommodated ourselves to our new mode of 
 living. We had thought, on our first removal 
 11
 
 122 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 to the country, we should never become accus- 
 tomed to it. We had always resided in a 
 village, and supposed we should miss the 
 excitement of such life; but we had been 
 agreeably disappointed, and now felt sorry 
 to leave the woods and fields, with all the 
 accompaniments of rustic living. We should, 
 however, still hear the song of birds, the low 
 of cattle, and even the peculiar intonation of 
 the frogs, at eventide ; noisy, truly, but still a 
 sort of fantastic music of their own, a contralto, 
 it may have been, deepening sometimes into 
 heavy basso. We were glad of this, for we 
 had learned to enjoy every description of rural 
 pleasure. 
 
 In leaving our woodland home, we should 
 have to give up many of its characteristic 
 recreations and employments ; yet we did not 
 intend to repine. We had been taught to 
 make the best of everything, and when a 
 change of circumstances occurred beyond 
 our control, to believe all was for our good ; 
 to take courage from the wholesome teach- 
 ing 
 
 "When thy best is fully done, 
 Welcome what thou canst not shun." 
 
 So we accepted our lot without a murmur,
 
 MAKY A. NIEMEYER. 123 
 
 knowing that, although we would not have 
 planned it thus, had we had it in our power to 
 adjust events, yet a kind Father held us as 
 the waters in the hollow of His hand," and 
 would appoint all things wisely. 
 
 Resignation is a lesson we must learn well, 
 for we shall need the grace in each day's expe- 
 rience. Sacrifice is a part of every life, indeed, 
 enters into every moment. If there be one 
 principle more evident than another in any 
 character, that has attained eminence for its 
 real excellence in the full sense of the term, it 
 is that of subduing selfish aims ; and while 
 enjoying what is felicitous, enduring what may 
 seem unpropitious, meekly. 
 
 With the certain prospect of the constant 
 need of this spirit of self-abnegation, would it 
 not be well for us to strive, by living example, 
 to reconcile those by whom we are surrounded 
 to its willing acceptance? It will save many 
 a heartache, and many a bitter struggle, that 
 otherwise might be made, calmly to abide 
 issues beyond our control.
 
 124 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " Seasons return, but not to me returns 
 Day. or the sweet approach of e'en or morn, 
 Or light of vernal bloom, or Summer's rose, 
 Oi flocks, or herds, or human face divine; 
 But clouds instead, and ever during dark 
 Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men 
 Cut off, and for the Book of knowledge fair 
 Presented with an universal blank." 
 
 John Milton. 
 
 "Perfumes, the more they're chaf'd, the more they render 
 Their pleasant scents ; and so affliction 
 Expresseth virtue fully, whether true 
 
 Or else adulterate." 
 
 John Webster. 
 
 "The path of sorrow, and that path alone, 
 Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown; 
 No traveller ever reach'd that blest abode, 
 Who found not thorns and briars in his road." 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 The remainder of my simple story will be 
 from a "blind girl's pen. I will not harrow the 
 feelings of my kind and sympathetic reader 
 with an attempt to tell how heavily on my 
 heart fell the sad truth that I was blind. God 
 had been very good, and would be still. I
 
 MART A. NIEMEYEK. 
 
 could trust Him, although my way henceforth 
 would be utter darkness, yet He would lead 
 me, and my feet would not slide. I could now 
 plead from my very soul, with the fervid 
 eloquence of one who had known the same 
 struggles with the same mournful result, 
 
 "So much the rather thou, celestial Light, 
 Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers 
 Irradiate, there plant eyes; all mist from thence 
 Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell 
 Of things invisible to mortal sight." 
 
 I had been fortunate above a number, for 
 the priceless boon of sight had been mine 
 during the first twelve years of my life. I had 
 remembrance to aid me. I had seen Nature 
 in her forms of beauty ; had looked upon 
 the human face divine ; and now in the years to 
 come, should at least be able mentally to see 
 these again. 
 
 I have since learned that the blind have 
 modes of communicating with the outer world, 
 through the intensifying of the other senses. 
 In this way they really enjoy life, and, as a 
 class, they may be considered a happy people. 
 They are known to participate in common 
 recreations, such as leap-frog, touch, hoop- 
 bowling, skipping with a rope, shuttlecock,
 
 126 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 marbles, etc., and even the sports of sliding 
 and snowballing. 
 
 "We are told of a certain John Metcalf, who 
 pursued numerous avocations without much 
 hindrance from the loss of sight. As a boy, he 
 went birds'-nesting with his schoolmates ; as a 
 young man, he followed the hounds, he learnt 
 to swim and to dive, had the reputation of 
 being a good boxer, was a good musician, dealt 
 in woollen goods, and also in horses, established 
 public conveyances, became a builder and con- 
 tractor, built bridges, laid down roads, made 
 drains, and accomplished some difficult engi- 
 neering works which people who had their 
 sight declined. This versatility of talent is, 
 of course, rare, combined, as it must have been, 
 with indomitable energy and perseverance. 
 Still, it goes to prove that blindness need not 
 prevent the development of mental or physical 
 activity. 
 
 Then, too, there are interesting accounts of 
 the use of what are termed the unrecognized 
 senses, which greatly facilitate the communica- 
 tion of the blind with external objects. Facial 
 perception is remarkable as one of these. "We 
 are told of a Mr. Levy, who, whether within 
 a house or in the open air, whether walking or
 
 MART A. NIEMEYER. 127 
 
 standing still, could tell, although quite blind, 
 when he was opposite an object, and could 
 perceive whether it were tall or short, slender 
 or bulky. He could detect whether it were a 
 solitary object or a continuous fence-, whether 
 it were a close fence or composed of open rails, 
 and often whether a wooden fence, a brick or 
 stone wall, or a quick-set hedge. It is said 
 these objects were perceived through the skin 
 of the face, and the impressions were immedi- 
 ately transmitted to the brain. Stopping the 
 ears did not interfere with this power, so the 
 currents of air could have nothing to do with 
 it, but covering the face with a thick veil would 
 destroy it altogether. None of the five senses 
 had anything to do with it ; hence it has been 
 termed facial perception. 
 
 There are many curious illustrations of this 
 faculty recorded ; such as being able to distin- 
 guish shops from private houses; even to point 
 out doors and windows, and this whether the 
 doors be shut or open ; to detect when the lower 
 part of a fence is brickwork and the upper 
 part rails, and to perceive the line where the 
 two meet ; to discover irregularities in height 
 and projections, and indentations in walls. 
 There is a curious story related in confirmation
 
 128 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 of this faculty. Mr. Levy, himself blind from 
 earliest infancy, Director of the Association 
 for Promoting the General Welfare of the 
 Blind, and a resident of London, England, 
 narrates the following : " While walking with 
 a friend in Forest Lane, Stratford, I said, 
 pointing to a fence which separated the road 
 from a field, < those rails are not quite as high 
 as my shoulder.' He looked at them and said 
 they were higher. We, however, measured, 
 and found them about three inches lower than 
 my shoulder. At the time of making this 
 observation, I was about four feet from the 
 rails." Certainly in this instance facial percep- 
 tion was more accurate than sight. 
 
 A similar sense belongs to some part of the 
 animal creation, and especially to bats, who 
 have been known to fly about a room without 
 striking against anything after the cruel experi- 
 ment has been made of extracting their eyes. 
 These, and similar interesting facts, are to be 
 found in a well-known work, " Blindness and 
 the Blind, or a treatise on the Science of 
 Typhology." By W. Hanks Levy, F. R. G. S., 
 London. 
 
 Many persons entertain erroneous ideas con- 
 cerning the blind. They seem to regard them
 
 MART A. NIEMEYEK. 129 
 
 as unlike other people, a separate and distinct 
 class in all their susceptibilities and endow- 
 ments. They speak of them as incapacitated 
 for many pursuits. From some they may be 
 debarred, it is true, but their resources and 
 abilities are far more numerous than the 
 unreflective might suppose. Still in their 
 helplessness in many respects, they appeal 
 strongly to those more fortunate than them- 
 selves, and while to be regarded with pity is 
 extremely galling, a tender consideration is 
 always grateful to them. 
 
 What may be done for the blind is a subject 
 of very much more importance than the general 
 public may understand it to be. But the 
 humane everywhere have joined hands to 
 alleviate suffering in this form; while the 
 thoughtful and judgmatic are endeavoring to 
 solve this problem so pregnant with good or 
 ill to those whose misfortune it is to be blind ; 
 and strenuous efforts are being made to miti- 
 gate, in some degree, the dreadful calamity of 
 having " wisdom at one entrance quite shut 
 out," and that the most important entrance. 
 
 In England, France and America, the inter- 
 est is rapidly on the increase, and much careful 
 thought is being devoted to the matter. And
 
 130 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 from the worn artisan, whose sight, too severely 
 taxed, has faded out ; from the victim of pesti- 
 lence ; from the sufferer from' accident ; aye, 
 and from the babe, whose heritage has been a 
 soul shut within the body's portals, is arising 
 one united voice of thankfulness to those who 
 have espoused their cause. God will lend a 
 helping hand. He will bless and crown with 
 full success all such heaven-directed effort.
 
 MAKY A. NIEMEYER. 
 
 CHAPTEK XIV. 
 
 "Great minds, like heaven, are pleased 
 In doing good." 
 
 Rowe's Tamerlane. 
 
 " In faith and hope the world will disagree, 
 But all mankind's concern is charity : 
 All must be false that thwart this one great end ; 
 And all of God, that bless mankind, or mend." 
 Pope's Essay on 
 
 "Thus bravely live heroic men, 
 
 A consecrated band; 
 Life is to them a battle-field, 
 Their hearts a holy land." 
 
 Tuckerman. 
 
 "'Tis not in mortals to command success; 
 But we'll do more, Serapronius, we'll deserve it." 
 
 Addison's Cato. 
 
 Far more interest has been shown of late 
 years in the education of the blind than in the 
 past, and noble men and women have addressed 
 themselves earnestly to labor in their behalf. 
 Institutions are multiplying, and are successful 
 beyond expectation, in the good they are 
 accomplishing. Ways and means to facilitate 
 the communication of knowledge are being 
 carefully studied.
 
 132 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Buildings, spacious in themselves, and sur- 
 rounded by extensive pleasure grounds, are 
 now appropriated. 
 
 The mental and physical development of 
 this class of persons has become one of the 
 benevolences of the day. And no more mag- 
 nanimous enterprise could be offered the 
 humanitarian than such a field of labor. 
 Citizens of large heart and noble sympathies 
 are actively engaged in the good work, and 
 the processes for assisting the blind are now so 
 thorough, that they enjoy facilities for obtain- 
 ing easy access to the resources of literature, 
 music, and to any of the mechanical arts for 
 which they have capacity; indeed, almost 
 every branch of industry is now within their 
 reach. All are afforded opportunities to obtain 
 a thoroughly scholastic education, and, so far, 
 efforts made to instruct them have proved that 
 talent, in creditable ratio, is found among 
 them. This movement is of more recent date 
 in America than Europe, and has not reached 
 the advanced ground here that it has there. 
 Still, the work is progressing. 
 
 There are numerous examples of rare and 
 exceptional talent among the blind ; nor is the 
 larger endowment that of genius without a
 
 MAEY A. NIEMEYER. 133 
 
 goodly number of representatives. With the 
 acknowledged types of these two classes may 
 be identified the distinguished blind philolo- 
 gist, Scapinelli, one of the most accomplished 
 scholars of his day ; Count de Pagan, who, on 
 becoming blind, devoted himself to the study 
 of fortification and geometry; Dr. Nicholas 
 Saunderson, who, although blind almost from 
 his birth, lectured upon optics, and was pro- 
 fessor of mathematics in the University of 
 Cambridge ; Sir John Fielding, half-brother of 
 the great novelist, and Chief Magistrate of 
 Bow Street Police Court, whose " acuteness on 
 the magisterial bench may have been equalled, 
 but has never been surpassed ; " Huber, the 
 eminent naturalist, who invented the glass 
 bee-hives now in common use ; nor have these 
 examples of scholarly excellence and practical 
 adaptability of the same been without a peer 
 in heroism and indomitable will-power, as 
 shown by one James ITolman, who travelled 
 without an attendant through a large portion 
 of Europe, penetrated five thousand miles into 
 the Russian dominions, performed a voyage 
 round the world, and actually, on one occasion, 
 saved the vessel by taking the helm. 
 
 These illustrations are somewhat removed, '
 
 134 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 we admit ; but we are not without promising 
 indications of talent and usefulness of no 
 ordinary type in America. Time will show 
 creditable results compared with any that have 
 been cited. Students in the Institutions in 
 this country have, upon the completion of the 
 required course of preparation, been admitted 
 to the bar, as was instanced in the case of 
 James B. Green, a pupil of the Baltimore 
 Institution, and later a graduate of the Univer- 
 sity of Virginia, a gentleman whose fine literary 
 acumen is unmistakeable, and whose com- 
 mencement thesis, with " Milton " for its 
 subject, was forceful in style, and of positive 
 aesthetic excellence. 
 
 Poetry has been aspired to in no ordinary 
 sense by Morrison Heady, of Kentucky, whose 
 productions have a classic ring in them, and 
 suggest the thought, the lyre has been touched 
 by a hand so skilful, that time may prove the 
 poet to have been in his earlier efforts a master 
 of the art divine, in embryo, whose bolder 
 nights had placed him on Parnassian heights. 
 
 The pulpit has not been without representa- 
 tives from among the blind. We read of an 
 eloquent old man in the far West, Paul Denver, 
 who held enchained unnumbered hosts he
 
 MAET A. NIEMEYEK. 
 
 135 
 
 never looked upon ; his long white hair sway- 
 ing to the breeze, his whole face beaming with 
 emotion, and tears reigning from his sightless 
 eyes, as he plead with perishing men to flee 
 from the wrath to come, and find redemption 
 in His blood who died on the cross for them. 
 Nearer home, and of more recent distinction, 
 is William Henry Milburn, who has, perhaps, 
 no superior in oratorical finish and fervid 
 eloquence. As a lecturer, also, he has attained 
 marked celebrity. His travels abroad have 
 furnished varied and interesting incident for 
 these. 
 
 I had frequently heard of Institutions for 
 the education of the blind, and when the last 
 hope for the recovery of my sight, even par- 
 tially, had faded, I began to feel an earnest 
 desire to secure admission into one of these. 
 My love for knowledge was great, and besides, 
 it was necessary for me to think of some way 
 in which I could earn a livelihood; for my 
 father had met with reverses, and could not do 
 much for me. Then, too, the probability was 
 I should outlive my parents, as my health was 
 good, and I was still very young. I could not 
 bear to think of being dependent upon the 
 bounty of others, therefore I was the more
 
 136 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 desirous to prepare myself in some way to 
 make a livelihood. 
 
 There were serious obstacles before me, my 
 parents' means being limited. I supposed it 
 would be attended with great expense to gain 
 admission into such Institution, and had almost 
 ceased to hope for the consummation of my 
 wishes. My great need, however, made me 
 still cling to the possibility, faint though it 
 appeared. 
 
 About this time the pupils of the Baltimore 
 Institution for the Blind gave a concert in 
 Frederick. I attended, and was delighted with 
 the music. Both the vocal and instrumental 
 performances were excellent. I now determined 
 to make every effort I could to become a pupil. 
 I craved an education, for I knew without it I 
 could never be self-dependent, and this was my 
 chief ambition. Two gentlemen, Mr. Cole 
 and Mr. Stoner, had, from time to time, 
 expressed great interest in me, also willingness 
 to aid me, if in their power. I spoke to these 
 friends and asked them to counsel me as to the 
 plan by which I should proceed to arrive at 
 some understanding of the conditions' under 
 which I could be admitted. Mr. Cole wrote to 
 Mr. Keener, who was at that time Superintend-
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 137 
 
 ent of the Institution. He laid my case before 
 this gentleman, and urged that my wish be 
 considered favorably. Mr. Stoner had been a 
 resident of Middletown but a short time. He 
 had contracted for the building of a church, 
 and while this was being erected, he made the 
 place his home. He paid frequent business 
 visits to Baltimore. On one of these occasions 
 he called at the Institution and had an inter- 
 view with Mr. Keener, who spared no pains in 
 informing him of the manner in which the 
 blind were taught, and showed him all the 
 needed appliances, the various systems of teach- 
 ing employed, the style of printing, and many 
 other interesting features of the Institution. 
 He was very courteous and affable, and the 
 account of this interview increased my desire 
 to accomplish my long-cherished purpose. 
 
 During a second visit to the Institution, Mr. 
 Stoner was introduced to a lady, Miss Mary L. 
 Day, who was being educated there, and who 
 spoke in the warmest terms of everything con- 
 nected with the place. She had at this time with 
 the aid of friends prepared her biography, and 
 w r as finding for it ready sale. The book was 
 entitled " Incidents in the Life of a Blind Girl." 
 She very kindly sent me a copy, and I found 
 12
 
 133 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 it pleasant and entertaining. The story was a 
 simple one, yet full of interest ; and by its sale 
 Miss Day has realized a moderate competency. 
 The charitable and kindly disposed every- 
 where would be likely to encourage such an 
 effort. A life-history may be very plain, perhaps 
 uneventful, in the usual acceptation of the term, 
 but if it has been blighted by a great sorrow, 
 there will always be found those whose hearts 
 will go out towards the stricken one, and prac- 
 tical sympathy will not be withheld. How 
 forcible the teaching of Paul, in his letter to the 
 Corinthians, " Though I speak with the tongues 
 of men and of angels and have not charity, I 
 am become as sounding brass or a tinkling 
 cymbal;" and yet again he dwells upon the 
 theme "Now abideth faith, hope, charity, 
 these three : but the greatest of these is charity." 
 This shows the Apostle's high estimate of 
 this principle of love in its full sense, and what 
 a cardinal virtue he deemed it in a Christ-like 
 character. It is an ornament more to be desired 
 than jewels or costly apparel. Golconda's 
 rarest germ is naught compared with it. Gold 
 of Ophir, studded with liquid diamonds, pales 
 before it. Pearls from the depth of the sea, 
 though gracing a coronet, are less pure thaD
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEK. 139 
 
 its dewy light. No words are eloquent enougn 
 to express its true beauty ; yet we may wear it, 
 a gift from Him who is all charity, as He is 
 love: 
 
 " True charity, a plant divinely nurs'cl, 
 Fed by the love from which it rose at first, 
 Thrives against hope, and in the rudest scene, 
 Storms but enliven its unfading green ; 
 Exuberant is the shadow it supplies, 
 Its fruit on earth, its growth above the skies." 
 
 Beside the book, Miss Day sent me a oead 
 basket she had made. It was ingeniously con- 
 trived was very pretty and tasty. These gifts 
 added to my previous desire to share instruc- 
 tions and opportunities of every kind extended 
 to those similarly situated with myself. I 
 thought if I only knew how to manipulate 
 vari-colored beads as Miss Day had done I 
 should be glad, and could, perhaps, make it a 
 source of revenue. 
 
 To writing a book I did not then aspire ; 
 but Providence opened the way for me, and in 
 good time I enjoyed the privileges I had so 
 longed for.
 
 140 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 CHAPTER XY. 
 
 "Just as a mother, with sweet pious face, 
 
 Yearns tow'rds her children from her seat, 
 Gives one a kiss, another an embrace, 
 
 Takes this upon her knee, that on her feet; 
 And while from actions, looks, complaints, pretences, 
 
 She learns their feelings and their various will: 
 To this a look, to that a word dispenses, 
 
 And whether stern or smiling, loves them still, 
 So Providence helps all our wants, 
 And what is best at all times grants." 
 
 Anon. 
 
 "Now ye stand 
 
 Eager to spring upon the promised land, 
 Fair ye see triumph, pleasure, fame and joy: 
 Friendship unwavering, love without alloy, 
 Brave thoughts of noble deeds and glory won, 
 Like angels, beckon ye to venture on." 
 
 Frances Kemble Sutler. 
 
 My hope was strong, and I could not help 
 anticipating a favorable result to my wishes ; 
 although, as yet, there had been no very prom- 
 ising indications. I believed I should secure 
 admission to the Institution, by what means or 
 through what influence I could not foresee. I 
 knew my friends were zealous, and would 
 leave no resource untried that might terminate 
 fortunately.
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 
 
 14:1 
 
 I had been taught " faith is the substance of 
 things hoped for, the evidence of things not 
 seen," and now I had proof of this lesson of 
 trust. Mr. Cole received an answer to the 
 letter he had written Mr. Keener, stating that 
 application had been made to the Governor of 
 the State, and he had granted the privilege, 
 and had furnished the necessary legal docu- 
 ment upon which I was to become a pupil in 
 the Institution. It was thought I had best 
 enter at once, as all arrangements had been 
 made. 
 
 I was greatly rejoiced at my good fortune, 
 and very thankful to those who had aided 
 me in securing it. It seemed as if a new, 
 bright future had suddenly opened before me. 
 Fancy was at once busily engaged picturing 
 my changed circumstances, the opportunity I 
 should have for improvement; the delightful 
 intercourse with those, like myself, deprived 
 of sight, and how I should gain strength hear- 
 ing of their victories. My affliction had made 
 me thoughtful beyond my years, and I weighed 
 the matter well. Heart and brain were full to 
 overflowing, but I did not forget that my 
 Heavenly Father had bestowed this great 
 blessing upon his sightless child.
 
 142 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Several ladies in our village assisted mother 
 in getting me ready for school. They were 
 busy for a few days refitting my wardrobe, and 
 seemed so glad and happy that I was going. 
 The surly misanthrope may talk of selfishness 
 being dominant in the heart of man, and may 
 strive to make any, who will listen to his miser- 
 able croakings, believe that true, disinterested 
 friendship is only a name; but he will not 
 succeed, save with churls like himself, for there 
 are too many evidences to the contrary, broad 
 cast o'er the earth. All around us are the 
 generous and the true who love to do a kindly 
 turn for friendship's sake alone, with no slight- 
 est tinge of sordid motive lurking in any hidden 
 corner of the heart. Not with a passive kind- 
 liness are they content, but seek active means 
 of proving their good will. It is not enough 
 that we wish well to others. Our feelings 
 should clothe themselves with corresponding 
 actions. The spring which has no outlet 
 becomes a stagnant pool, while that which 
 pours itself off in the running stream is pure 
 and living, and is the cause of life and beauty 
 wherever it flows. 
 
 Thanks to the assistance of our village friends, 
 I was soon ready. The day for leaving home
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEK. 143 
 
 arrived ; the hour of parting brought its strug- 
 gle ; it was different from anything I had 
 known. I had never left my father and mother 
 to remain away any length of time. My 
 mother had been so watchful over me, I did 
 not know what I should do without her care. 
 From my brothers and sisters I felt loth to go, 
 and when the moment came, a sensation of 
 dread stole over me lest we should never meet 
 again. We all experienced a degree of fear 
 that we were separating, never more to be an 
 undivided family. We strove to shake this 
 foreboding oif, to regard the event as one al- 
 together propitious, and to believe that our 
 family group would again be formed, with each 
 of us in the accustomed place. 
 
 Though we had some sad thoughts, yet father, 
 mother, sisters and brothers, were happy that 
 I was going where I should be able to garner 
 stores of knowledge, which would make less 
 solitary my darkened path. Mother would 
 doubtless silently grieve that in my helplessness 
 she could not be near her stricken child. How 
 precious this 
 
 "Mother-love, unchilled by change, 
 Absence wide, and coldness strange, 
 Mother-love that here must yearn 
 In vain for its full return."
 
 144 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 I knew in leaving home my name would still 
 be a household word ; and I, when only 
 strangers were round me, could wander back, 
 and by the spirit's power steal into their midst, 
 lay my hand in theirs, take the vacant chair 
 beside them, could again bask in a sister'a 
 smile, felt if not seen, and fold myself con- 
 fidingly away in 
 
 " Sister-love, so calm and so wise, 
 Starlight risen on darkened skies." 
 
 Memory would bring them to me at eventide, 
 at the matin-hour, at noon's high flush, and 
 when sable night had settled on the earth, and 
 on bended knee I could ask " Our Father " to 
 hold in tender keeping my loved and distant 
 ones. I could pray that He who put on 
 humanity's garb and knew every heart-throb 
 of sorrow would shield them from all harm: 
 
 "O, the precious privilege 
 
 To the absent given, 
 Sending by the dove of prayer 
 
 Loving words to heaven ! 
 Arrows from the burning sun 
 
 Cleave the quivering air, 
 Swifter, softlier, surer on 
 
 Speeds the dove of prayer, 
 Bearing from the parted lips 
 
 Words of tcnd'rest love, 
 Warm, as from the heart they gush'd 
 
 To the throne above!"
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 145 
 
 Yery precious are these home affections; 
 earth would be a dreary waste without them. 
 Our hearts would be desolate, did they not feel 
 other hearts had need of them. 
 
 "None may name a drearier thought, 
 Hearts we lean on need us not. 
 If they ask for us no more, 
 Gathering in heaven's affluent store, 
 Life is lonelier than we knew, 
 Sharper anguish thrills death through: 
 In this rubbish-heap of earth 
 Hides no pearl heaven's saving worth." 
 
 Our souls may wing their flight through 
 illimitable space, and nestle at home. This 
 makes the poignancy of separation less, and we 
 can smile through our tears as the bright sun 
 of an April day looks through raindrops, 
 setting forth the truth that our lives are two- 
 fold in their kind. 
 
 After a few hours' travel, father and I arrived 
 in Baltimore. As it was early in the day, we 
 went immediately to -the Institution. We 
 were cordially received by the Superintendent. 
 He greeted me as a member of his family, 
 this made me feel at home. "We first visited 
 the girl's department. All welcomed me kindly, 
 and expressed great pleasure that I was to be 
 one of their number. I felt that I should be 
 18
 
 146 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 contented and happy with such warm-hearted 
 associates. I was next introduced to Miss Bond, 
 the matron of the Institution. This lady had 
 such a pleasant address, was so winning in 
 manner, that I was attracted to her, and was 
 impressed we should be excellent friends. 
 
 I knew I should love my home ; everything 
 was so bright and cheerful ; and time proved 
 iny conclusion correct in every particular. 
 
 A concert took place in the evening. Father 
 remained, and had an opportunity of hearing 
 some good music, which I also enjoyed greatly. 
 The attendance was large, and everybody 
 appeared well entertained. The laughing 
 chorus gave the most pleasure, judging from 
 the applause with which it was received. You 
 would scarcely have thought blind people could 
 have been as excessively merry as the hearty 
 laughter in this song made them appear. The 
 mirth was contagious, and the guests joined in 
 chorus with the performers. 
 
 For the blind there is, perhaps, no greater 
 enjoyment than that afforded by the harmony 
 of sweet sounds. It is to them a language full 
 of sentiment. They discover great apti'tude in 
 learning music. It becomes, in many instances s 
 a mode of earning a comfortable living. This
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEK. 
 
 147 
 
 being the case, the art receives much attention 
 in all institutions for the education of this 
 class. A generous proportion of time is de- 
 voted to piano instruction, and due regard is 
 also paid to the violin and flute. Concerts are 
 given weekly, and the pupils succeed in making 
 them very interesting to visitors. 
 
 Exhibitions of their skill, before the Legis- 
 lature, have appealed strongly to the sympa- 
 thies of that body, and aid has been secured 
 in the form of liberal appropriations for the 
 general advancement of the pupils. 
 ' Father delayed a few days in the city, in 
 order to cheer and encourage me if I should 
 become home-sick. But I had already found 
 friends, and did not feel that those by whom I 
 was surrounded were, a short time before, 
 strangers. I seemed to have known and loved 
 them a long while. He was delighted to see 
 me so satisfied, and bade me good-bye less re- 
 luctantly than he would have done if I had 
 been unwilling to be left. 
 
 He charged me to be diligent in all my 
 studies, but to pay especial attention to my 
 music. We then parted ; a momentary sad- 
 ness stole over our hearts, but it was only a
 
 148 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 passing cloud, behind which the sun was 
 brightly shining. My home promised well, 
 and it was best I should be separated from 
 those very dear to me for awhile.
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 149 
 
 CHAPTEK XYI. 
 
 "I go to seek my own hearth-stone 
 Bosomed in yon green hills alone; 
 A simple lodge in a pleasant land, 
 Whose groves the frolic fairies planned, 
 Where arches green the livelong day 
 Echo the blackbird's roundelay," 
 
 Ralph Waldo Emerson. 
 
 " There's beauty all around our paths, if but our watch- 
 ful eyes 
 
 Can trace it midst familiar things, and through their 
 lowly guise, 
 
 We may find it where a hedge-row showers its blos- 
 soms o'er our way, 
 
 Or a cottage window sparkles forth in the last red 
 light of day. 
 
 Yes, beauty dwells in all our paths, but sorrow, too, 
 
 is there; 
 How oft some cloud within us dims the bright still 
 
 summer air ! 
 And yet 'tis by the lights and clouds through which 
 
 our pathway lies, 
 By the beauty and the grief alike we are training for 
 
 the skies." 
 
 FeUcia Hemans. 
 
 Almost a century since, prompted by the 
 solicitations of a benevolent lady who employed
 
 150 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 her whole life in efforts to alleviate the wants 
 of the blind, M. Hany made an appeal to his 
 countrymen, which resulted in the establish- 
 ment of one of the largest institutions for the 
 blind in Europe. 
 
 This gentleman invented a method of print- 
 ing books for the use of the blind in embossed 
 characters. The paper, when properly pre- 
 pared, was laid upon the type, which had been 
 previously set upon a frame for the purpose. 
 A pressure was then made upon the paper, 
 which gave the letters in relief on the opposite 
 side. These letters could be distinguished by 
 the touch with almost as much precision as 
 those printed in the ordinary method can be 
 perceived by the eye. Books prepared in this 
 way had but one inconvenience that of their 
 extreme bulk. Subsequent improvements, 
 however, have considerably reduced their size. 
 And though a given amount of matter occupies 
 a much larger surface of paper, and one volume 
 printed in the common way makes two or 
 three when prepared for the blind, still when 
 we consider the benefits that flow from an in- 
 vention displaying so much skill and benevo- 
 lence, such a defect is of trifling importance. 
 
 The more difficult task of teaching the blind
 
 MAKY A. NIEMEYEK. 151 
 
 to write is accomplished by simple contrivances. 
 The writing board is formed by pasting on a 
 piece of paste board of the size of a common 
 sheet of paper, strips of the same material, 
 forming parallel lines about half an inch from 
 each other. This board is placed under the 
 paper, and the finger is then drawn along upon 
 the surface, so as to press it in the grooves or 
 between the lines. The pupil is then taught 
 to form the letters with a common lead pencil. 
 After writing a word, he measures with the 
 forefinger of the left hand the space to be left 
 between the words. Thus by this simple pro- 
 cess is gained for the blind all the advantages 
 that are conferred upon seeing persons by the 
 ruled paper. 
 
 The apparatus employed in the study of 
 arithmetic is simple and effective. It consists 
 of a slab of brass, cast in such a manner as to 
 be divided into some hundreds of holes; into 
 these holes are inserted types representing the 
 same figures that are used by seeing persons. 
 In this way the blind student is enabled to 
 cipher with as much facility as a seeing one. 
 
 The study of geography is pursued by the 
 aid of maps and globes adapted to the touch. 
 The maps are made of wood, with indentations
 
 152 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 representing rivers, lakes, gulfs, bays, channels, 
 &c. The mountains are designated by being 
 rough and slightly raised, and the boundary 
 lines of States, the principal cities and towns, 
 are marked by pin heads, the pins being driven 
 into the map. 
 
 In this age of progress these various plans 
 are being constanly improved upon and many 
 obstacles are being removed from the tho- 
 rough education and development of the blind. 
 
 A joint committee from the General As- 
 sembly of Maryland visited the Institution, 
 located on Saratoga street, the property for- 
 merly owned by Mr. Konig. A thorough 
 examination was made of the various depart- 
 ments, and each received much commenda- 
 tion. In their report they recommended an 
 appropriation to aid in procuring more suit- 
 able buildings for the further prosecution of 
 the philanthropic plan. In order to give the 
 Legislature an opportunity of judging more 
 correctly of the merits of the blind, the pupils 
 soon after visited Annapolis and gave a concert 
 in the Legislative Hall. 
 
 Some ten years previous it had been proposed 
 establishing an Institution for the education 
 of the blind of the State. The plan was to
 
 MAEY A. NIEMETEB. 153 
 
 create a fund for the purpose before referred 
 to, and after strenuous effort the accomplish- 
 ment of the proud design was effected. Through 
 the praiseworthy action of the Legislature at 
 that time, by which that Honorable Body ap- 
 propriated the handsome sum of fifty thousand 
 dollars, and the appropriation of ten thousand 
 dollars by the City Council of the previous 
 year, in addition to the funds already accu- 
 mulated, those interested were enabled to com- 
 mence plans on such an improved and liberal 
 scale as must meet the wants of the State for 
 many years to come. 
 
 The structure erected on Boundary Avenue 
 is the result of this effort, and is at once a 
 credit to the State and an ornament to the 
 city. Its comforts are as ample as its accom- 
 modations. It is healthy and commanding in 
 location, and is, in every respect, a worthy 
 expression of the philanthropy of Baltimoreans. 
 
 This beautiful home was received by the 
 blind with feelings of the deepest gratitude 
 and humble thanks to Almighty God who had 
 put it into the hearts of the people to carry out 
 so good and great a work. 
 
 During the first years of my stay in Balti- 
 more, brother Charles was still there. He was-
 
 154 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 in the cigar business, and was succeeding 
 beyond his expectations. Mr. Gaehle had been 
 unfortunate in business, had failed, and shortly 
 afterwards had died. Mrs. Gaehle had gone 
 West. How many and what unlooked-for 
 changes cross our paths. We lay plans for 
 future fulfilment, and lo ! when the future has 
 become the present, they are nought. It is 
 fitly said, " Man proposes, God disposes." And 
 we have the thought in another form from 
 Shakspeare's pungent pen : 
 
 "There is a divinity that shapes our ends, 
 Rough hew them as we will." 
 
 Whatever our aims may be, they are ever 
 overruled by One, who in His omniscience, 
 knows the end from the beginning. The 
 unthinking call it destiny, and tell us we are 
 but toys in the fickle goddess' hands ; but it is 
 a higher power that governs all. He moulds 
 our lives as He wills. How vain our murmur- 
 ing, even in the little things of life, the sparrow's 
 fell, the bending blade of grass fanned by an 
 infant's breath God is in all and over all. 
 
 Charles had looked forward to a long-con- 
 tinued relationship with his friend and bene- 
 factor; but it was otherwise ordained, and
 
 MARY A. KIEMEYER 155 
 
 doubtless wisely so, though to him inscrutable. 
 "What a lesson may be learned when we see a 
 prosperous man, one upright in his daily walk, 
 suddenly stricken by death ! The warning is 
 being constantly afforded us, but in the hurry 
 of the hour we too often pause not to consider. 
 
 My brother frequently called on me at the 
 Institution, and this made it seem even more 
 homelike. I had been at school about six 
 weeks when the vacation came round. Charles 
 took me home to spend the Summer months 
 with our family. This was very pleasant. The 
 prospect had lessened the pain of separation, 
 and with bounding heart I hastened to my 
 mother's side, that I might narrate my many 
 experiences since last at home. All were glad 
 to greet us,' and our return was celebrated with 
 great rejoicing. 
 
 It is a trite expression, the form of which is 
 almost worn out, " there is no place like home;" 
 but the poet, himself homeless, was " faithful 
 and far-seeing" in so simply expressing the 
 touching sentiment. Hearts have throbbed 
 with renewed life at the eloquent syllables, and 
 eyes have moistened while lips tremblingly 
 repeated them.
 
 156 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 "There blend the ties that strengthen 
 
 Our hearts in hours of ^rief, 
 The silver links that lengthen 
 Joy's visits when most brief." 
 
 Man may wander the whole earth o'er ; may 
 find his way through the swamps and junglee 
 of distant Africa ; may cool his fevered brow 
 in the waters of the open polar sea ; or lave his 
 limbs in limpid waves, 'neath a Southern sky ; 
 he may greet the sun as he looks forth in morn- 
 ing light, or track him to his nightly couch 
 behind the gold-fringed curtains of the West ; 
 yet his wanderings o'er, the spot where his 
 mother first sung a lullaby to soothe him to 
 sleep, even the cradle in which he slept in 
 baby-in uocence, will have a charm that noth- 
 ing else can rival. He may have tried to think 
 the world his home, and live the life of the gay 
 cosmopolitan ; but when he has exhausted every 
 other source of interest or affection, he will 
 turn to the little room where his childish prat- 
 tle first fell on a mother's ear, or he felt a 
 father's proud caress. 
 
 "By the soft green light in the weedy glade, 
 On the banks of moss where thy childhood play'd ; 
 By the household tree through which thine eye 
 First look'd in love to the summer sky,
 
 MAEY A. NIEMEYER. 157 
 
 By the dewy gleam, by the very breath 
 Of the primrose tufts in the grass beneath, 
 Upon thy heart there is laid a spell, 
 Holy and precious; oh, guard it well! 
 
 By the sleepy ripple of the stream, 
 
 Which hath lulled thee into many a dream, 
 
 By the shiver of the ivy-leaves 
 
 To the wind of morn at thy casement eaves, 
 
 By the bees' deep murmur in the limes, 
 
 By the music of the Sabbath chimes, 
 
 By every sound of thy native shade, 
 
 Stronger and dearer the spell is made. 
 
 By the gathering round the winter hearth, 
 
 When twilight call'd unto household mirth; 
 
 By the fairy tale or the legend old 
 
 In that ring of happy faces told ; 
 
 By the quiet hour when hearts unite 
 
 In the parting prayer and the kind "good-night; 
 
 By the smiling eye and the loving tone, 
 
 O'er thy life has the spell been thrown. 
 
 And bless that gift, it hath gentle might, 
 A guardian power and a guiding light; 
 It hath 1.-J the freeman forth to stand 
 In the mountain battles of his land; 
 I; hath brought the wanderer o'er the seas 
 To die on the hills of his own fresh breeze ; 
 And back to the gates of his father's hall, 
 It hath led the weeping prodigal. 
 
 Yes, when thy heart in its pride may stray 
 From the pure first-loves of its youth away;
 
 158 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 When the sullying breath of the world would come 
 O'er the flowers it brought from its childhood's home ; 
 Think of thy sports at thy father's door, 
 And the kindly spell shall have power once more." 
 
 I had much to tell when I reached home, 
 the daily mode of life at the Institution, the 
 studies we had, and our various other occupa- 
 tions for all of which I found ready listeners. 
 They never seemed to weary hearing what I 
 had passed through while absent from them; 
 the process by which we learned to read ; how 
 we were instructed in music; and, besides, 
 many employments useful and ornamental," 
 with which we were made familiar, such as the 
 making of fancy baskets with beads, knitting, 
 crocheting, and ever so many other handicrafts. 
 Then our amusements and our expedients for 
 physical exercise were recounted. All these 
 subjects were extremely interesting to them, 
 and many a long Summer day was beguiled of 
 its tediousness by their narration.
 
 MARY A. NIEMETEK. 159 
 
 CHAPTER XYII. 
 
 "Unto this harvest ground 
 
 Proud reapers came, 
 Some for that strirring sound, 
 A warrior's name: 
 
 Some for the stormy play, 
 
 And joy of strife, 
 And some to fling away 
 
 A weary life." 
 
 Felicia Hemans. 
 
 "No more the drum 
 
 Provokes to arms, or trumpet's clangor shrill 
 Affrights the wives, or chills the maiden's blood; 
 
 But peace and plenty open to the view. 
 
 Philips. 
 
 " Talk not of comfort, 'tis for lighter ills ; 
 1 will indulge my sorrows, and give way 
 To all the pangs and fury of despair." 
 
 Addisoris Cato. 
 
 Father was frequently in receipt of letters 
 from my cousin, Louis F. Koester, who had for 
 some years been residing in Charleston, South 
 Carolina. He had become wealthy, and desired 
 brother Fred should live with him. Cousin 
 Louis was a wholesale grocer, and he thought 
 it would be a good opening for Fred, if he
 
 160 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 would become a clerk in his store. It appeared 
 an advantageous opportunity, and father ac- 
 ceded to the proposition. When vacation was 
 over I returned to school, and Charles and 
 Fred accompanied me to Baltimore. Fred left 
 the day following for Charleston. 
 
 In a short time the war between the South- 
 ern and Northern States broke out. All 
 communication by mail was cut off, and we 
 were sadly distressed. Could we have foreseen 
 this event, we should not have been willing for 
 Fred to go South. "We now feared we should 
 not see him or hear from him for a long time. 
 The suspense would be painful, and we deeply 
 regretted the separation. 
 
 We waited long and anxiously for intelli- 
 gence. Two years after the opening of the 
 war, the Southern troops entered Maryland. 
 We hoped to find Fred among them. We had 
 learned that he had enlisted in the army early 
 in the struggle. After the battles of Antietam 
 and South Mountain, he came home. The 
 meeting was a joyful one ; we had dreaded lest 
 we should hear of his death. But he had been 
 spared, and was restored to his family once 
 more. I was not at home to participate in 
 the welcome and the thanksgiving upon his
 
 MART A. NIEMEYER. 161 
 
 return; but lie wrote to me, and his letter 
 made me feel as if I were with them all. We 
 had prayed that he might be spared, when the 
 bullets rained thick around him, and the air 
 was full of death. "We had thought of him 
 anxiously and tearfully when he could hear 
 only the roar of the loud-mouthed cannon, the 
 sharp clash of steel, or the mixed din and 
 clangor of the battle-field. But he had been 
 preserved ; the God of battles had shielded him. 
 He had several times been in the thickest of 
 the fight. He had seen comrade after comrade 
 fall at his side ; had heard their death-moan, 
 and caught the last faint message of love for 
 the dear ones at home; then he had dashed 
 again into the fight, leaving dying friends to 
 their fate. Such is dreadful war. 
 
 Fred pictured many of the harrowing scenes, 
 which he had witnessed. The recital drew 
 tears from eyes that were not often suffused 
 with emotion's tender moisture. He also de- 
 scribed the fascination a battle had for the 
 combatants. The listeners almost held their 
 breath in terror, while he seemed to see only 
 glory in the terrible encounter. These things 
 were written to me, and very vivid letters they 
 were. Mother and Fred both tried to give me 
 14
 
 162 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 every detail as I could not be with them to 
 hear for myself. I felt surprised that my 
 brother had made so many hairbreadth escapes 
 and yet had come through all uninjured, 
 surely he had been most mercifully preserved. 
 I felt how good God was to take care of him 
 and send him back to us. 
 
 For two summers during the war both armies 
 made raids through Middletown Valley, laying 
 waste its green fields, and scattering havoc 
 everywhere. The people met with great losses ; 
 their various stores of grain for home con- 
 sumption were exhausted. What a fearful 
 thing is war, though it comes with colors flying 
 and with the merry sound of drum and fife. 
 Orphaned children and wailing widows, sad 
 mothers and lonely sisters, mingle their lament 
 with the shout of victory. 
 
 In September of 1862, the Southern Army 
 made the first raid into the Valley. The in- 
 habitants were greatly alarmed, as terrible 
 disasters had everywhere followed, for the 
 people upon whom the incursions were made. 
 Many men fled from their families into other 
 States for fear of being forced into the army. 
 In a few days the village and the country 
 around were filled with soldiers ; the rattle of
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEB. 163 
 
 artillery and the general confusion that ensued 
 changed the usual character of the quiet place 
 and made it a very Bedlam. They demanded 
 rations, which were given as far as the people 
 had it in their power. The men offered to pay 
 for what they received, but they had only 
 Confederate money, which was of no value in 
 the Valley. In less than a week the Union 
 Army made its appearance. The Southerners 
 proceeded westward to South Mountain, three 
 and a half miles from Middletown. They had 
 a skirmish a short distance from the 'village 
 which compelled the people to take refuge in 
 the cellars, while the shells were flying over- 
 head. Some few soldiers were killed, but no 
 serious results followed to the residents 
 
 Early next morning the battle of South 
 Mountain commenced. Both armies fought 
 vigorously all day. The noise and smoke of 
 cannon were overpowering. The people were 
 greatly terrified and the whole scene was 
 appalling. The armies then proceeded to 
 Antietam where the fight was renewed, last- 
 ing two days. The dead and dying were 
 brought back to our village, now marred by 
 war's devastating power. They were placed in 
 the churches, school-houses, in private dwel-
 
 164 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 lings, and in the barns of the residents. Those 
 who had " fought their last fight " were laid 
 away in their nameless graves; while the liv- 
 ing were tenderly cared for by the hospitable 
 villagers. 
 
 The noble kindness of the people left a last- 
 ing impression upon those who lived to return 
 to their homes in the different States, and in 
 many instances their grateful remembrance 
 was shown. In the summer of 1864 a second 
 raid was made, again by the two armies in 
 succession, and resulted in the almost utter 
 impoverishment of the people. The farmers 
 were stripped of their stock, their horses, their 
 grain, indeed the place once so nourishing was 
 left a barren waste. After, however, the 
 armies had crossed the Potomac into Virginia, 
 calm was restored, and every effort was made 
 to repair the damage that had been done. 
 
 Many a soldier with tearful eye will speak 
 of those, who, like the good Samaritan, poured 
 oil into his wounds ; lifted him when fallen 
 by the wayside; then sent him with gentle 
 wishes to his distant home. 
 
 "War is a costly thing, not alone in a coun- 
 try's gold, flung wide by every boom from the 
 cannon's throat; not alone in the embellish-
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 165 
 
 ments that make up its tinselry and show ; not 
 alone in the lives that fall a sacrifice to the 
 bloodthirsty god ; but in the wrecked hopes of 
 those who sit at home in loneliness, and whose 
 wrung hearts have been wholly given up to 
 sorrow and deep despair. This is the cost of 
 war, too often the price paid for peace. "We 
 may here recall the sad plaint of one heart 
 robbed of its treasures ; nor will we overpaint 
 the picture. 
 
 " A woman paced with hurried step, her lone and dreary 
 
 cell; 
 The setting sun, with golden ray, upon her dark hair 
 
 fell, 
 Which lay disheveled on her breast and many a shred 
 
 of gray, 
 Wound midst those tresses sorrow's gift, while on 
 
 her breast they lay. 
 
 She murmured disconnected strains, as to and fro she 
 
 paced, 
 And wildly beamed her piercing eye, and on her wasted 
 
 face 
 A burning flush of fever glowed ; then rolled the lava 
 
 tide 
 Of thought from those thin pallid lips, as passionate 
 
 she cried ; 
 "Peace, peace, they tell me peace has come, they say 
 
 the war is o'er; 
 
 The battle-cry the shriek of death shall fill the land 
 no more
 
 166 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 They bid my heart rejoice, be glad, they bid my tears 
 
 to cease; 
 Yes, yes my heart ! thou shouldst rejoice, for thou hast 
 
 paid for peace. 
 
 Ah! let me count the price once more, for fear my 
 
 lips restrain 
 
 The faintest note that they should give to that rejoic- 
 ing strain. 
 I had a son, a noble boy, just entered manhood's 
 
 bloom, 
 But he forgot his mother's tears when first the cannon's 
 
 boom 
 Was heard upon our nation's shores; ah! 'twas a 
 
 magic spell, 
 
 And gallantly he bore our flag, and gallantly he f 
 I never saw my boy again, (they say my tears must 
 
 cease,) 
 
 But, Herbert, drop for drop with thine, my heart pai 
 blood for peace !" 
 
 "Another son, a stripling boy, who, always by my side, 
 Frail as a lily, was content forever to abide ; not 
 
 eighteen 
 
 Summers had I nursed with all a mother's care, 
 This tender plant, when orders came my only child 
 
 to tear 
 From my embrace ; I knew he'd die, and on my b 
 
 knee 
 I begged his life; besought and wept; but no, it 
 
 not be ; 
 They bore him off. He never met the foe on hill 
 
 plain, 
 But drooped and died, I knew not where; we never 
 
 met again.
 
 MART A. NIEMEYEB. 167 
 
 Willie, with thy soft blue eyes! Hush, hush, my 
 
 heart must cease, 
 
 Yet darling with thy dying groans, I paid in part for 
 peace ! 
 
 "Now both were gone, who was left? None but the 
 
 fond true heart 
 Who'd mingled tear for tear with mine he who had 
 
 borne a part 
 
 In every anguish wild which still my bosom rent, 
 Whose eyes were dim, whose hair was gray, with 
 
 nights of weeping spent 
 For these our sons. I thought that we through all 
 
 this midnight gloom, 
 Would, hand in hand, walk mournfully together to 
 
 the tomb. 
 
 But war, insatiate, claimed him, too; I saw him, too, 
 
 depart, 
 And something made of stone, I think, was given me 
 
 for a hrart ; 
 
 1 could not weep for many a day; I was alone, 
 With that cold weight within my breast that heavy 
 
 heart of stone. 
 
 Tears came and melted it at last; in prison far away, 
 
 Weary and worn, uncared for, too, he languished day 
 by day ; 
 
 But Herbert and our Willie came, and bade the cap- 
 tive go ; 
 
 They broke his chains, I know they did, the angels 
 told me so ; 
 
 And when they bore his soul aloft, and bade his suf- 
 ferings cease, 
 
 I paid in spirit on his grave all that I owed for peace."
 
 168 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 "Must I rejoice? perchance I might; but was that all 
 
 the price ? 
 Ah! did my jewels, did my tears, my broken heart 
 
 suffice ? 
 
 No! count upon the battle-field ten thousand name- 
 less graves ; 
 Call on the winds for sighs and groans; go tell the 
 
 ocean waves 
 To bring their dead; the prison walls to shriek their 
 
 sickening tales. 
 Concentrate, if you've power to-night, widow's and 
 
 orphan's wails; 
 Heap broken hearts on broken hearts, till pity bid 
 
 you cease, 
 ft.nd then you'll have not half the price that we have 
 
 paid for peace." 
 
 This, it is true, is a sketch not based upon 
 t&ct ; but its counterpart was to be found in 
 many a home when the roll of heavy artillery 
 had died off to a whisper, then was silent, for 
 the contest was ended, and peace was won. 
 There are bleeding hearts to-day, and purpose- 
 less intellects, whose unwritten history if told, 
 would be as thrilling as any tale of woe, imagi- 
 nation's wildest frenzy ever penned.
 
 MAKY A. NIEMEYEB. 169 
 
 CHAPTER XYIII. 
 
 " True happiness 
 
 Consists not in the multitude of friends, 
 But in the worth and choice." 
 
 JonsorCs Oynt7iia's Revels. 
 
 " There are moments of life that we never forget, 
 Which brighten and brighten, as time steals away ; 
 They give a new charm to the happiest lot, 
 And they shine on the gloom of the loneliest day." 
 
 /. G. Perdval. 
 
 " Long, long be my heart with such memories fill'd ! 
 Like the vase in which roses have once been distill'd, 
 You may break, you may ruin the vase, if you will, 
 But the scent of the roses will hang round it still." 
 
 Moore. 
 
 "Life's a short summer man a flower, 
 He dies alas ! how soon he dies ! " 
 
 Dr. Johnson. 
 
 The South had suffered greatly by the war, 
 and business prospects were so unpromising 
 that brother Fred determined not to return, 
 but to try and find employment elsewhere. 
 He decided to make an effort to settle in Bal- 
 timore. He had learned watchmaking, and 
 concluded now he would make practical use of 
 his knowledge. With this object in view, he 
 15
 
 170 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 wrote to Charles and myself, and we felt glad 
 to have another of our family near us. It 
 made the place still more homelike. 
 
 About this time, Mr. Keener resigned the 
 position of Superintendent, the office being too 
 confining. He had done much towards ad- 
 vancing the general prosperity of the Institu- 
 tion. Among the many improvements he had 
 suggested and carried into successful operation, 
 was the securing of maps adapted to the use 
 of the blind. The pupils felt indebted to him 
 for the kind personal interest he had in them. 
 He had always been friendly and considerate, 
 and was in every respect a Christian gentleman. 
 In retiring from the Superintendency, he took 
 with him the warm regards of all, and their 
 kindest wishes for success in whatever path in 
 life he might choose. Sincere prayers from 
 grateful hearts were oifered, that his future 
 might be smiled upon by Providence, as his 
 past had been, in the fruition of good works. 
 About five years after he had sundered his 
 relationship to us, Mr. Keener accepted the 
 office of Superintendent of the Navassa Guano 
 Island, in the West Indies. And on his return 
 to Baltimore after a long absence, he called to 
 see me; he had not forgotten me, though lie
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 171 
 
 had passed through such varied scenes since I 
 was under his care ; I appreciated the visit 
 highly. 
 
 It is with deep regret that I note the recent 
 death of this gentleman. On the 9th of No- 
 vember, 1872, far from his native land, among 
 strangers he passed away from earth. 
 
 Many tears fell when the sad intelligence 
 came not only from sightless eyes : He was 
 known and loved at the Boys' Home, the 
 Manual Labor School, and at the House of 
 Refuge. He died at the age of forty-three 
 years ; little more than mid way up life's rug- 
 ged steep but if the works of a life mark its 
 period, lie had attained a green old age. 
 
 Upon Mr. Keener's resignation, Mr. F. D. 
 Morrison was given charge of the Institution. 
 He entered upon his duties with evident earn- 
 estness ; and showed immediately deep interest 
 in our welfare. He addressed himself with 
 great persistency of purpose to the secur- 
 ing of more complete accommodations as well 
 as generally more commodious arrangements 
 for the pupils. A new building had been 
 talked of for some time, but its accomplish- 
 ment seemed a thing of the indefinite future. 
 Our new Superintendent felt not so, and set to
 
 172 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 work to attain the desired object at an early 
 day. He took active measures to secure the 
 result, and in his appeals for aid was untiring. 
 In a few years our new home was completed. 
 This beautiful edifice is located on Boundary 
 avenue, and is the one of which previous men- 
 tion has been made, a monument of benevo- 
 lence in the City of Monuments. 
 
 During my stay in the Institution, I attended 
 the Third Eeformed Church, of which Kev. J. 
 S. Foulk was pastor. I connected myself with 
 the Sunday school. Mrs. L. Byrne was my 
 teacher ; this lady was devoted to her class, and 
 we reaped great benefit from her instruction 
 and advice. Her single purpose was to do 
 good. We all became much attached to her. 
 She tried to impress on our youthful minds the 
 duty we owed Him from whom we received 
 our every blessing. She plead with us to ob- 
 serve how great His loving kindness and tender 
 mercy, though He chastened. I shall never 
 forget how she strove to show us the influence 
 our example would have upon others ; and how 
 she urged us so to live that we might be pat- 
 terns of excellence in every respect. Had we 
 been faithful to her pious teachings, we should 
 have made fewer crooked paths in our life-jour-
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 173 
 
 neying. Her memory will ever be cherished 
 gratefully and fondly. Her precepts and holy 
 example were instruments in inducing many a 
 little one to strive to be a faithful Christian. 
 
 Dr. Foulk and his family were always kind 
 and attentive to me. They visited me fre- 
 quently, and gave many practical evidences of 
 their solicitude. -Remembrances of these friends 
 are among the most precious of my life. 
 
 While a pupil in the Institution, I was con- 
 firmed, and have continued my membership of 
 the Church, so tenderly associated with the 
 first years of my affliction. Dr. Foulk has since 
 accepted a call to Carlisle, Pennsylvania, and 
 is there esteemed and beloved by his people as 
 lie was in Baltimore. I doubt not he will have 
 many stars in his crown of rejoicing, when, 
 earth's labors ended, he shall put on immor- 
 tality's robes. 
 
 Quite a number of pupils from the Institu- 
 tion joined the school, making two large 
 classes. Mrs. Byrne had charge of the girls, 
 and Mr. Alfred George of the boys. Both 
 these teachers were unremitting in their ef- 
 forts to be of service to their scholars; and 
 God crowned each Sabbath day with some 
 mark of His approval. Mrs. Byrne and Mr.
 
 174 AUTOBIOGBAPHY OF 
 
 George regarded it a privilege to be eyes for 
 the blind in their search for the truths of Holy 
 Writ ; and with glad hearts they beheld reli- 
 gion's calm and peaceful light illumine the 
 faces of those whose outer vision obscured, 
 could yet look upon the glory of Him who 
 reigneth on high, revealed in saving grace. 
 
 Mr. George, in the midst of his usefulness, 
 was snatched away by death. At his grave 
 there were no sincerer mourners than those 
 who, when in heaven they met, should, for the 
 first time see the friend who, as an honored in- 
 strument in God's hand, had shed religion's 
 pure light on their way. Their voices were 
 tremulous with emotion as they joined in the 
 exultant strain, 
 
 "I would not live alway, 
 No ! welcome the toinb ; 
 Since Jesus hath lain there, 
 I dread not its gloom. 
 There sweet be my rest, 
 Till He bid me arise 
 To hail Him in triumph, 
 Ascending the skies." 
 
 Many other of our church relationships were 
 of a kind affectionate character. Members of 
 the choir aided us in learning anniversary
 
 MAEY A. NIEMEYER. 175 
 
 hymns. On one of these occasions seventeen 
 of our pupils were presented each with a copy 
 of the Bible, in raised letters. This was a 
 priceless treasure to the recipient, dearer the 
 more closely we studied the sacred pages. 
 Years of possession could only add to its value, 
 for as the cares of the world crowded into our 
 lives, where could be found surer comfort than 
 in the sympathy of one " who was a man of 
 sorrows and acquainted with grief?" Our 
 gratitude was tearfully expressed, for we could 
 but weep, though our hearts were full of glad- 
 ness too. 
 
 The presentation was made by Francis T. 
 King, President of the Maryland Bible Society, 
 the friend who is a friend indeed. His heart 
 is ever ready to respond to humanity's call. 
 This gentleman is ubiquitous in his connection 
 with every good work. He is indeed remark- 
 able for his ready sympathy, and practical aid 
 in all the charities of our city. God's blessing 
 must surely follow him. 
 
 The gift would ever be a treasured reminder 
 of our church associations as well as of the 
 generous donors who found it in their hearts 
 to bestow it. 
 
 I frequently received letters from my friend,
 
 176 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Mr. Cole. He counselled me to be diligent 
 and persevering, warning me against losing 
 one opportunity of acquiring knowledge. 
 Btrove to act upon his advice, and found jt 
 greatly to my advantage to do so. Mr. Cole 
 married, and during his wedding tour visited 
 Baltimore. He and his wife called upon me, 
 at the Institution ; I read and played for them, 
 and they appeared much pleased with my pro- 
 gress. They cordially invited me to spend my 
 next vacation, in Shippensburg, Pa., where they 
 were to reside. Mrs. Cole was very affectionate 
 in manner, this won my heart at once, par- 
 ticularly as her husband had been such a good 
 friend to me. She had a sweet voice, which 
 made me think her gentle and winning; and 
 her pleasant good-bye fell like music on my 
 
 ear. 
 
 With the blind, there is much in the tone of 
 voice to attract or repel. They are so sensitive 
 in this particular, that they often judge char- 
 acter from this special endowment ; and, al- 
 though it may seem strange, and to some even 
 incredible, they are often er accurately im- 
 pressed than the contrary. It is natural, if 
 not always safe to conclude that a voice is 
 influenced by the impulses of the heart. A
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEK. 177 
 
 sweet voice is always a grace. A low voice is 
 eloquent in love, in sorrow, or in despair. A 
 harsh sinister voice, and one like the clicking 
 of a steel trap are unmistakeable in their indica- 
 tions. We all have heard tones, whose depth 
 and richness were the signs of power, either of 
 intellect or passion. "A still small voice " 
 littered " peace be still," and the angry waves 
 of Galilee were calm. So ofttimes have the 
 subdued tones of affection quelled the rising 
 storm of passion in the human breast, and bade 
 it "peace be still." But we will not longer 
 dwell upon the varied power of the human 
 voice. It was God's great gift to man, when 
 he breathed the breath of life into his nostrils, 
 and man became a living soul, endowed with 
 reason, supreme above the brute creation to 
 whom instinct without speech was assigned. 
 
 Various changes had taken place in the 
 Institution. Prof. H. H. Bruning, one of our 
 teachers, a gentleman of excellent scholastic 
 attainments had resigned, intending to open 
 an Academy of his own in Lancaster, Pa. He 
 had been succeeded by Miss Mary Patrick, 
 who was our teacher but a few months, when 
 she was married. We rejoiced in her happiness, 
 as she had endeared herself to us during tho
 
 178 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 short time we had been her pupils. Mrs. Jane 
 Arnold had been connected with the Institu- 
 tion about five years, when death removed her 
 from us. She had been both friend and teacher 
 and her loss was deeply mourned. Thus it is, 
 " friend after friend departs," and we miss them 
 from our midst. There must always be one 
 chord to sorrow strung, else the harmony would 
 be incomplete. The sad minor key is the 
 undertone of all our spirits' lives, and it has a 
 plaintive charm for everyone, even if heard in 
 youth's gay morning hour. 
 
 Prof. Wm. Harman had been our teacher 
 of music for some time, and was beloved by all 
 the pupils. He was a thorough instructor, and 
 those who fulfilled his requirements could not 
 fail to attain proficiency. Upon his resigna- 
 tion, Prof. Barrington was appointed by the 
 Board of Trustees. This gentleman enjoyed 
 an excellent reputation, which he has since 
 admirably sustained. The progress of his 
 pupils has been of the most satisfactory char- 
 acter ; and he is withal very genial in manner, 
 calculated to win the friendly regard of those 
 whom he instructs, as well as their' willing 
 application to duty. 
 
 The positions held by Mrs. Arnold and Miss
 
 MART A. NIEMEYER. 179 
 
 Patrick when left vacant, were filled by Miss 
 Emma and Miss Louise Yarnall These ladies 
 were eminently fitted for the responsibilities 
 they assumed. Lovely in character and well 
 qualified as teachers, they could only be desir- 
 able acquisitions to the Institution We cher- 
 ished fondly the memory of those who had 
 providentially been removed from us, yet, wo 
 could but feel happy in our new relations.
 
 J.80 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 " Human life is chequer'd at the best, 
 And joy and grief alternately preside." 
 
 Tracy. 
 
 " Friendship 1 mysterious cement of the soul ! 
 Sweet'ner of life, and solder of society 1 
 I owe thee much. Thou has deserved of me 
 Far, far beyond what I can ever pay. 
 Oft have I prov'd the labors of thy love; 
 And the warm effort of the gentle heart, 
 Anxious to please." 
 
 " The friends thou hast and their adoption tried, 
 Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel." 
 
 SJiakspere's Hamlet. 
 
 "There is no fount 
 Of deep, strong, deathless love, like that within 
 
 A mother's heart." 
 
 Mrs. Hemaris Siege of Valencia. 
 
 While many changes were taking place in 
 the Institution, in my family also events had 
 occurred in which I was deeply interested. 
 Charles had removed to Charleston and had 
 gone into the grocery business. Fred had 
 married and was living in Richmond, 
 sister Maria had married and settled in Balti-
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 181 
 
 more. Portions of our family were now liv- 
 ing in South Carolina, Virginia and Maryland, 
 not very widely scattered it is true, yet we 
 were far enough apart to make it scarcely prob- 
 able we should be again ail undivided house- 
 hold. We should henceforth miss some who had 
 shared with us the joys of home. Father and 
 mother realized this, but they believed all to have 
 been directed by a kind Providence, for bless- 
 ings had followed their children, more than they 
 had asked. To each it is true " some days had 
 been dark and dreary," still there had been 
 many, many bright days for which to be 
 thankful. 
 
 Brother Charles' health began to fail, and it 
 was thought the climate possibly did not suit 
 him, so he concluded to try what effect a trip 
 North would have. He wrote asking Fred to 
 take charge of his business for him. This 
 arrangement having been satisfactorily made, 
 he started on the proposed trip. He visited a 
 number of places and received great benefit. 
 He remained longest at Cape May, and found 
 the sea bathing very invigorating. He returned 
 home much improved in health, and fearing 
 to lose the good he had gained, decided not to 
 go to Charleston again, but to wind up his
 
 182 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 business there and locate in Middletown. At 
 this time he purchased me a piano, which 
 generous gift was most acceptable, for I had 
 become devotedly fond of music and spent 
 many solitary hours, losing my sense of loneli- 
 ness in the companionship of sweet sounds. 
 
 My father had been fortunate in business, and 
 was now able to purchase property in Middle- 
 town. God had prospered him, and he enjoyed 
 the pleasant prospect of being able in his old 
 age to sit down under his " own vine and fig- 
 tree." It is sad when misfortune and vicissitude 
 fall on any lot, but saddest of all when they 
 come with declining years, as the foot begins 
 to step tremblingly, or the hand be unsteady 
 in its palsied grasp, the head whitened with 
 the frosts of many winters, and the form bowed 
 with the burdens it has borne. It is meet that 
 those, who have been spared such a close to the 
 toil of a lifetime, should be very thankful. 
 Father felt this, and night and morning, at the 
 family altar, he acknowledged God's bountiful 
 goodness to him, in having acknowledged the 
 labor of his hands so abundantly. 
 
 My time at school was rapidly drawing to a 
 close. I had been in the Institution nearly 
 eight years, all of which had been very happy
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 183 
 
 years, and so swiftly had they flown I could 
 hardly believe them more than months. I 
 had made many dear friends, to be cherished 
 while life should last. Nor were these tender 
 ties formed only with the teachers and pupils, 
 but with persons outside. Among the latter 
 are some I shall ever remember. Mr. William 
 Ball's family were kind and thoughtful at all 
 times. I spent many happy hours with them. 
 One sad association drew me near them, Little 
 Ida, a pet with all who knew her, and her 
 grandpa's darling, a fair-haired child, sprightly 
 and interesting in manner, was blind. She was 
 born sightless, and this fact appealed strongly 
 to my sympathy. To her parents it had made 
 her doubly dear. 
 
 Mrs. Maynard and family also were good 
 friends of mine. Indeed these two families 
 were continually studying how they could 
 contribute to my comfort and enjoyment. Nor 
 did they forget my schoolmates, but in many 
 thoughtful acts and attentions added to their 
 pleasures. Yery many others than myself, in 
 all the future, will look back gratefully upon 
 their kindly offices. These allusions are very 
 personal, I am well aware, but they are "green 
 spots," and are refreshing to think upon.
 
 184: AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Yon, gentle reader, will pardon, for you are 
 not following a life, in which there need be the 
 observance of any special conventional form, 
 but that of a blind girl ; whose heart having 
 known sorrow and bereavement, still, as the 
 drooping flower drinks in the dew and sun- 
 light, then rejoices, accepts the bright things 
 of her lot in deep thankfulness. 
 
 I was soon to leave my home in the Institu- 
 tion and the friends I had made, while there. 
 Although I knew my parents were longing for 
 my return , I f el t reluctant to go. A new world 
 had been opened to my inward vision, during 
 my stay in Baltimore. My plans and purposes 
 had materially changed. I now looked forward 
 to usefulness in the world, not in any wide sense 
 of the term, but according to my ability. I 
 experienced a stimulus in living I had not 
 known before, and which bereft of sight as I 
 was I should never have been aware of, had it 
 not been for the opportunities of mental im- 
 provement I had enjoyed. 
 
 My parents anticipated my return very gladly. 
 They longed that I should again be with them. 
 Except the vacation seasons I had been absent 
 from them eight years. My mother's health 
 was much impaired, she was confined to her
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 185 
 
 room a great part of the time. I hoped to be 
 of some service to her, if only to make the 
 hours pass less wearily by telling her what I 
 had learned in many ways since last with her. 
 To an invalid even the minutes drag a slow 
 length along and hours and days seem ages if 
 pain rack the feeble body. I thought by my 
 music to interest my mother and call her at- 
 tention sometimes from her sufferings. 
 
 It is a holy office to be able to give back to 
 a mother part of the love and care she be- 
 stowed upon us in helpless infancy. It is a 
 pious trust and one that, well fulfilled, will 
 bring sweet content in years to come, when the 
 loved one may be sleeping sweetly beneath the 
 swaying cypress or the lilies fair. Mother- 
 love taken from us can never be replaced, once 
 lost, it is forever gone, save as it blooms again 
 in Paradise. Earth is lonelier, home is void 
 when her feet have stepped into the river of 
 death. Our hearts have no nestling place " like 
 the bosom first pressed," if her heart has ceased 
 to beat ; and we pause on life's highway, miss- 
 ing the guardian angel of our young years,. to 
 plead, as the stilly twilight comes softly on, 
 
 "Backward, turn backward, oh Time, in your flight, 
 Make me a child again just for to-night; 
 16
 
 186 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Over my heart in the days that are flown, 
 No love like mother-love ever has shone, 
 No other worship ahides and endures, 
 Faithful, unselfish and patient like yours, 
 None like a mother can charm away pain 
 From the sick soul and world-weary brain." 
 
 Well may we cherish the precious treasure, 
 the sweetest boon God ever gave ; with gentle 
 care enfold the wasting form, with loving hand 
 guide the feeble steps, and in every way strive 
 to make the sunset of a mother's life full of 
 beauty, blending tints of softer light with those 
 of richer loveliness. Her last days, even if 
 passed in bodily anguish, may be the fullness 
 of joy if crowned and blessed with the love of 
 her children. 
 
 Worse than the brute must that man or 
 woman be who can forget the sacred duty, of 
 filial care and tenderness for a mother. If any 
 eye should rest on these pages, which if turned 
 inward, finds one thought of disrespect for a 
 mother's counsel, thrust it out, for it is a dark 
 spot, that when the pall shall have been settled 
 on the dead mother, no tears of regret will 
 ever wash out. 
 
 The hour of parting from my school friends 
 came ; I can never forget it. My heart was 
 deeply stirred for I was sundering relationships
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEK. 187 
 
 not again to be entered into. I was leaving a 
 life behind that had been full of genial inci- 
 dent to take np another that must have sterner 
 experiences in it, than any period of the past, 
 as I should try the world ; and its lessons are 
 ever hard to learn. New duties and responsi- 
 bilities awaited me. The occasion was to me 
 one of unusual significance. 
 
 My associates expressed sorrow that we were 
 to be separated, and the trembling voice indi- 
 cated the sincerity of their words of parting. 
 We who had walked so long together, the light 
 of our faces hid from each other, were now to 
 take a divided way. We had looked for this, 
 but always in the future ; now it had come, 
 and with it brought its trial. Brother Charles 
 was to take me home ; when he came, I bade 
 a last and tearful adieu to the Institution, my 
 teachers, schoolmates, and friends. The years 
 passed there were henceforth to be a memory 
 with a radiant halo round it " a joy forever."
 
 188 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 " The dear beatitudes of home, 
 Within the heavenly boundaries come : 
 The hearts that made life's fragrance here, 
 To Eden haunts bring added cheer ; 
 And all the beauty, all the good, 
 Lost to our lower altitude, 
 Transfigured, yet the same, are given 
 Upon the mountain-heights of heaven." 
 
 Lucy Larcom. 
 
 " Do not forever with thy veile'd lids, 
 Seek for thy noble father in the dust ; 
 Thou know'st 'tis common ; all that live must die, 
 
 Passing through nature to eternity." 
 
 Shakspere. 
 
 ' The hearth, the hearth, is desolate, the fire is quenched 
 
 and gone, 
 That into happy children's eyes once brightly laughing 
 
 shone, 
 The place where mirth and music met is hush'd through 
 
 day and night, 
 O ! for one kind, one sunny face, of all that here made 
 
 light ! 
 
 ******* 
 
 The father's voice the mother's prayer though called 
 
 from earth away 
 With music ringing from the dead, their spirits yet shall 
 
 sway;
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 189 
 
 And by the past, aad by the grave, the parted yet are 
 
 one, 
 Though the loved hearth be desolate, the bright fire 
 
 quench' d and gone." 
 
 Felicia Hemans. 
 
 My parents were rejoiced to have me at home 
 again. My mother wept for joy, I wept also, 
 but mine were tears of mingled joy and sor- 
 row. For weeks after my return, I thought of 
 scarcely anything else than the Institution and 
 its many pleasant associations. My father sym- 
 pathized with me; when he attended the mili- 
 tary school in Germany, he became much 
 attached to it, and upon leaving felt great re- 
 gret. My parents promised me I should visit 
 Baltimore, a few weeks before school closed 
 for the summer vacation, so that I might meet 
 my friends again before they left for their va- 
 rious homes. This delighted me and I felt 
 more reconciled to the change in my surround- 
 ings and mode of living. 
 
 Mother was very ill during the following 
 winter. Sometimes we thought she could 
 hardly rally, she was so prostrated. She had 
 no fear of death, but appeared to look for- 
 ward to it as a happy release from suffering. 
 Her perfect resignation was a great comfort to 
 us and tended to allay the apprehension we
 
 190 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 constantly experienced. When Spring came 
 again, her health improved and she could once 
 more go out of doors and enjoy the invigorating 
 sunlight. This was a great happiness to us, 
 and we grew hopeful of a still further re- 
 covery. 
 
 Brother Charles decided to make another 
 change, this time he concluded to go West. 
 He intended to start in 1he tobacco business. 
 Thus a welcome to a returning member of our 
 family was followed by a fond good bye to one 
 departing. We regretted to have our brother 
 leave us but it seemed for the best, so we strove 
 to utter no word of discouragement, but to bid 
 him " God speed " in his undertaking. 
 
 According to the promise made me I was 
 soon to go to Baltimore, the Summer was rap- 
 idly approaching, and when it had surely come 
 I was to be again for a short time with my 
 school friends. I could not wait patiently. I 
 started two weeks before the close of the schol- 
 astic year. I had a most delightful visit, all 
 my expectations were realized and I had looked 
 forward to a great deal of pleasure. I re- 
 mained in the city, a few weeks with my mar- 
 ried sister. While there I received a letter 
 from father stating mother was very ill and
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEB. 191 
 
 that he feared she would not recover. This 
 was painful as well as startling news, for we 
 had thought she was getting better. 
 
 To add to ray distress I could not at once 
 get to my mother. The memorable flood, which 
 occurred at this time, had destroyed the rail- 
 roads. I was compelled to remain in Balti- 
 more, enduring the most terrible suspense. 
 
 While anxiously waiting for the means of 
 travel again to be available, I was shocked by 
 the receipt of a despatch, announcing my fa- 
 ther's death. This was a most unlocked for 
 event and overwhelmed me with its sudden- 
 ness. We could not believe the sad intelli- 
 gence. We thought there must have been a 
 mistake in forwarding the telegram and that 
 our mother was meant. In his letter received 
 but a short time before, father had said all the 
 family were well, but mother. We felt sure 
 an error had been made in wording the mes- 
 sage. 
 
 The bridges had been repaired the day before 
 we received the despatch ; so we started for 
 home on the first train, in this uncertain state 
 of mind, and weighed down with sorrow at 
 our affliction in either event. On arriving in 
 Frederick, sister hired a conveyance to take us-
 
 192 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 to Middletown. As we entered the house I 
 thought I heard my father's voice saying " the 
 girls have come." But alas ! he was cold in 
 death. He had no welcome for us, his lips 
 were sealed in the hush of everlasting silence. 
 
 Our mother was lying at the point of death. 
 "We found a number of friends endeavoring to 
 comfort her in her heavy bereavement. Father 
 had been stricken suddenly ; when attacked he 
 was apparently in his usual good health. The 
 severe pain he endured, cramped his body vio- 
 lently for thirty hours. Besides his physical 
 sufferings his mental distress was most poig- 
 nant. My uncle was with him and grasping 
 his hand, father said " Oh, dear brother, I am 
 going to die, how can I leave my afflicted 
 family ! " The physician strove faithfully but 
 without success to relieve his agony. When 
 Kev. F. A. Eupley, his pastor, prayed that 
 strength might be given, and submission to the 
 will of God might be granted, father seemed 
 resigned. Three hours before his death, he 
 fell into a deep sleep from which he never 
 awakened. Mr. Rupley had continued pray- 
 ing with him till he breathed his last.' 
 
 Father had been for many years a Christian, 
 full of faith and good works. He had taken
 
 MARY A. NIEMETER. 193 
 
 great pains to teach his children the truths of 
 the Bible, and had by an upright example en- 
 forced the precepts he had laid before them. 
 In disposition he had always been kind and 
 gentle. He was no more to be with us, the 
 light of his smile had gone out. Our hearts 
 were appalled with the magnitude of our loss. 
 So suddenly had the blow fallen that we could 
 not realize we were fatherless. It was as 
 if a painful dream had marred our pleasant 
 slumber. A few hours only had passed and 
 the hand that had penned warm loving words 
 was stiffened in death. What a lesson of life's 
 uncertainty, how brittle the thread by which it 
 is held ! Our mother of whom he had written 
 had outlived him, she so long an invalid, and 
 he strong and well, hurried to the grave. The 
 dispensation was most mysterious, one we could 
 not hope to comprehend, till in Heaven we 
 know God's purposes ; there all that we have 
 not understood shall be made plain. 
 
 We sorrowed not as those without hope, for 
 We knew in yon celestial country we should 
 meet our earthly parent again, a ransomed 
 spirit. He had been called from care and 
 strife and pain to rest with those "who had 
 IT
 
 194: AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 come up through much tribulation, their robes 
 washed white in the blood of the Lamb." 
 
 "We tried to compose our feelings before en- 
 tering mother's room, lest our grief might add 
 to her distress. We found her greatly excited. 
 She had talked more during father's brief ill- 
 ness than she had during month's previous, 
 and as a consequence, was much exhausted. 
 Father's sudden death had severely shocked 
 her nervous system. She had not shed a tear 
 but her deep sorrow was evident. She strove 
 to bear with Christian fortitude the trial. When 
 we entered the room, she said " children your 
 father was dear to you and me, but God has 
 seen fit to take him to Himself. We are sorely 
 stricken, but God will comfort and sustain us, 
 we must trust Him fully." 
 
 The funeral was to take place the following 
 morning. Many friends carne to take a last 
 look at the face of the departed. Those who 
 stood by the remains of our father drew a les- 
 son from the silent form; it taught them, oh 
 how forcibly, that " in the midst of life wo are 
 in death ; " and they turned away with the sol- 
 emn thought borne in upon their souls " be- 
 hold in such an hour as ye think not, the Son 
 of Man cometh."
 
 MAKT A. NIEMEYER. 195 
 
 Mother had not seemed able to comprehend 
 the whole extent of her loss ; at first it stnnned 
 her, being in a very weak condition. She became 
 worse than she had been, and every one felt 
 her end was drawing near. She was too feeble 
 to be taken in to see father ; even the sad pleas- 
 ure of a last kiss was denied her. When the fu- 
 neral was about to leave the house, she desired 
 to be moved near the window. She looked 
 out with tearful eyes, and then a bright smile 
 played upon her features as she murmured in 
 low sweet tones the happy thought " farewell 
 my husband, but a little while and I shall join 
 you in your heavenly land ; we shall not long 
 be severed, this is my great consolation." 
 
 The remains of our father were conveyed to 
 the church, where the Rev. Mr. R. preached a 
 very impressive sermon from Mark, 13th chap., 
 37th verse " What I say unto you, I say unto 
 all, Watch." After the ceremonies were ended 
 at the church, with sad hearts, and yet not 
 mourning as those without hope, we followed 
 our beloved parent to his last resting place. 
 Having reached the cemetery we laid him in 
 the grave, then slowly returned to our desolate 
 home. 
 
 A few days after my father's burial we saw
 
 196 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 that mother was rapidly failing. She asked us 
 not to mourn for her, she was willing to die, 
 for she would then be united again to her hus- 
 band. She said rather than grieve that she 
 was going to leave us, we should pray for her 
 speedy release from pain that she might find 
 rest in Heaven. Her sufferings were great, 
 and there seemed to be no alleviation for them, 
 yet in the selfishness of our love, we could not 
 bear to give her up. Now that we had lost 
 father, she was doubly dear to us. 
 
 After an interval of extreme pain, she fell 
 asleep, and so continued for fourteen hours. 
 Every effort was made to arouse her, for we 
 feared it would prove her long last sleep. 
 "When we succeeded in awaking her, she ap- 
 peared composed, though fully aware that she 
 was passing from us. She recognized all around 
 her, smiled lovingly upon us, and in almost 
 inarticulate words bade us meet her in Heaven. 
 Then she breathed her life away so calmly and 
 sweetly the departing spirit faded off so 
 slowly that only by the changed expression of 
 the face, the loss of pain and the quickly fol- 
 lowing heavenly gleam, could we tell that she 
 had gone from earth to join the loved and lost, 
 in a better land. Her prayer was answered
 
 MAKY A. NIEMEYER. 197 
 
 that she might not long be separated from our 
 father. We laid her beside him, then left the 
 quiet mounds ; bereft of both our parents, the 
 once dear home was now a vacant shrine. 
 
 In my sightless loneliness I should find all 
 joys less, now that my mother could no longer 
 cheer me. From my life had been taken its 
 strong stay, and ever as the years rolled on I 
 should mourn : 
 
 "The May sun sheds an amber light 
 
 On new leaved woods and lawns between; 
 But she who, with a smile more bright, 
 Welcomed and watched the springing green, 
 Is in her grave, 
 Low in her grave. 
 
 The fair white blossoms of the wood 
 
 In groups beside the pathway stand; 
 But one, the gentle and the good, 
 Who cropped them with a fairer hand, 
 Is in her grave,' 
 Low in her grave. 
 
 Upon the woodland's morning airs 
 
 The small birds mingled notes are flung; 
 But she whose voice more sweet than theirs, 
 Once bade me listen while they sung, 
 la in her grave, 
 Low in her grave
 
 198 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 That music of the early year 
 
 Brings tears of anguish to my eyes ; 
 My heart aches when the flowers appear, 
 For then I think of her who lies 
 Within her grave, 
 Low in her grave." 
 
 The loss of a mother is one every heart is 
 likely to experience ; yet this does not make 
 the trial less. We may see her fade daily, but 
 we turn from the painful truth, and watching 
 anxiously, hail with a thrill of joy, hope's 
 faintest message. 
 
 " Oh many lips are saying 
 
 Mid falling tears to-day; 
 And many hearts are aching sore, 
 
 Our mother's passed away ; 
 We watched her fading year by year, 
 
 As they went slowly hy, 
 But cast far from us e'en the fear 
 
 That she could ever die. 
 
 She seemed so good, so pure, so true 
 
 To our admiring eyes, 
 We never dreamed this glorious fruit 
 
 Was ripening for the skies; 
 And when at last the death stroke came, 
 
 So swift, so sure, so true, 
 The hearts that held her here so fast, 
 
 Were almost broken too. 
 
 We robed her in familiar dress, 
 We smoothed her soft hair down,
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEB. 199 
 
 Gave one last kiss, then laid her 'mid 
 
 The autumn leaves so brown; 
 Then each took up the b'roken thread 
 
 Of life and all its cares, 
 How sad the thought 'mid daily tasks, 
 
 We miss our mother's prayers. 
 
 We ne'er shall know from what dark paths 
 
 They may have kept our feet; 
 Yet holy will their influence be 
 
 While each fond heart shall beat: 
 And as we tread the thorny way, 
 
 Which her dear feet have trod, 
 Ever shall feel our mother's prayers 
 
 Leading us up to God."
 
 200 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 " Oh 1 what a change comes over that sad heart, 
 
 Where all was joyous, light, and free from care, 
 Ali thoughts of peace do for a time depart, 
 And yield to grief, and anguish, and despair." 
 
 J. T. Watson. 
 
 "His sweetest dreams were still 
 Of that dear voice that soothed his infancy." 
 
 Robert Southey. 
 
 "Voice after voice hath died away, 
 
 Once in my dwelling heard, 
 Sweet household name by name hath chang'd 
 
 To grief's forbidden word ! 
 From dreams of night on each I call, 
 
 Each of the far remov'd; 
 And waken to my own wild cry, 
 
 Where are ye, my belov'd?" 
 
 Felicia Hemans. 
 
 After our mother's funeral, and the kind 
 friends who had ministered to us in our sor- 
 row, had left us, sister Maria returned to her 
 home in Baltimore. Brother Andrew, sister 
 Minnie and I remained. We were lonely and 
 disconsolate. As we pondered upon the trials 
 we had passed through our hearts sank within 
 us. But we took comfort in the remembrance
 
 MAKT A. NIEMETEK. 201 
 
 of our parents' lives and their calm and holy 
 deaths. We recalled teachings which to us 
 had " priceless been." Though now Providence 
 seemed estranged, yet we trusted that all was 
 for our good. Strength was given by which 
 we were enabled to bear our double loss with 
 meek submission. 
 
 We had written to Charles and Fred the sad 
 news of our parents' death. In a few days we 
 received a letter from Fred stating that he and 
 his family had been ill for some weeks. All 
 were greatly shocked at the unexpected intel- 
 ligence we had sent them, they could with dif- 
 ficulty believe it. Even the youngest child felt 
 the blow. Brother Andrew decided to go to 
 Hagerstown and engage in business; sister 
 Minnie and myself were left the only occu- 
 pants of a home, a short time before so full of 
 cheerfulness, but where now sadness reigned 
 supreme. 
 
 A number of weeks had passed without our 
 hearing from Charles. We were sure he had 
 not heard of the events so recently occurring 
 or he would have written. When some nine 
 weeks had elapsed we received a letter from 
 him directed to father. It read thus Dear 
 Parents: It has been some months since I-
 
 202 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 heard from you. Since then I have travelled 
 through the greater part of the Western States. 
 I am now in Detroit, Michigan. The cause 
 of my delay in writing to you, has been the 
 uncertainty of my business arrangements. I 
 have found no suitable opening. 
 
 Your loving son CHARLES. 
 
 After Charles left home we had frequently 
 received discouraging letters from him. He 
 had been absent some months, and father had 
 written repeatedly, urging him to settle him- 
 self to some business and not wander from 
 place to place. He loved new scenes, and had 
 often said if he had means he would travel 
 over the world. A few days before father's 
 death, he wrote to Charles, strongly advising 
 him at once tostrive tohave definite objects in 
 view r . He told him, he hoped when next he 
 heard from him, the advice he had so often 
 given, would have been acted upon. When 
 Charles' answer came, father and mother had 
 been some months buried. 
 
 Minnie and I were in doubt how to break 
 the news to him. We first thought of asking 
 him to come home, without telling him what 
 changes had taken place. Upon reflection we
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 
 
 abandoned this idea, as we feared he might 
 postpone his return, if an opportunity of fur- 
 ther travel occurred, and we might again 
 lose all knowledge of his whereabouts. We 
 consulted with friends as to what course we 
 had best take, they advised our giving him the 
 full particulars of all that had happened since 
 he last heard from us, and to urge him to come 
 and settle in Middletown in the old homestead. 
 One week later he was with us; he had 
 started immediately after the receipt of our 
 letter, remaining in Baltimore long enough- to 
 see sister Maria and learn from her any details 
 we had omitted. He was overcome with grief. 
 He would wander through the house from room 
 to room, saying " our home is indeed deso- 
 late." He remained with us but a few days. 
 He could not endure seeing the many things 
 that reminded him of our deceased parents. 
 We thought it best he should find employment 
 elsewhere in order that his mind mi^ht be 
 
 CT> 
 
 occupied. He left us promising not to go fur- 
 ther than Baltimore or Washington. In a few 
 days we received a letter from him written 
 from Washington ; a week later we were sur- 
 prised to hear from him in Detroit. This 
 greatly perplexed us, but we could only submit-
 
 204 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Sister Maria wrote to us to dispose of the 
 property to the best advantage we could and 
 come and live with her. She was in delicate 
 health and needed our services. The following 
 Spring we left Middletown and went to Balti- 
 more. "We had heard from Charles some 
 months back. He gave as his reason for hav- 
 ing returned to Detroit without consulting us, 
 that he hoped there to find relief for his sor- 
 row which he had failed to do when near his 
 former home ; he believed we would try to dis- 
 suade him from going, so went without our 
 knowledge. "We wrote offering all the con- 
 solation we could and still requesting him to 
 come back and locate near us. 
 
 We received no answer ; we waited what we 
 considered a sufficiently long time then we 
 wrote to the gentleman with whom he was 
 engaged in business. From him we learned 
 Charles was very melancholy ; often appeared 
 sad and strange. He had done all he could to 
 cheer him but without success. "We wrote 
 ao-ain unrinsr him to come to us. A few weeks 
 
 o o o 
 
 later we received a letter together with a De- 
 troit paper, announcing our brother's death. 
 Dear reader this added sorrow seemed more 
 than I could bear. Charles had not always
 
 MARY A. NIEMETEB. 205 
 
 been a devoted son, but he had been to me a 
 good and faithful brother, always loving, ten- 
 der and generous. His heart was deeply 
 touched by my affliction, and he strove -in 
 every way to add to my comfort and happiness. 
 I was his favorite sister and he lavished gifts 
 upon me. These I value beyond expression 
 and hold as precious tokens of my brother's 
 love. 
 
 The sudden death of our parents had shocked 
 his nervous system so severely that his health 
 was greatly impaired and his mind yielded to 
 the pressure. He had always been of an ex- 
 tremely sensitive temperament, and never quite 
 so strong physically as the rest of us. Eight 
 months after our father's and mother's death, 
 he sank into the grave, far from home, with 
 strangers only near. 
 
 My heart was deeply riven. I felt all ties 
 were sundering, earth seemed losing its every 
 charm, but Heaven was growing dearer as I 
 thought that there again I could be folded to 
 a mother's heart, all sorrow past, all mourning 
 over, all tears dried. My very soul thrilled 
 with the longing for that new life which should 
 restore what was lost and broken here. This
 
 206 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 is a common sympathy, a universal aspiration ; 
 for we feel the truth borne in upon us, 
 
 "Down below, the wild November whistling 
 
 Through the beech's dome of burning red, 
 And the Autumn sprinkling penitential 
 Dust and ashes on the chestnut's head. 
 
 Down below, a pall of airy purple, 
 Darkly hanging from the mountain side, 
 
 And the sunset from his eyebrows staring 
 O'er the long roll of the leaden tide. 
 
 Up above, the tree with leaf unfading, 
 
 By the everlasting river's brink, 
 And the sea of glass beyond whose margin 
 
 Never yet the sun was known to sink. 
 
 Down below, the white wings of the sea-bird 
 Dashed across the furrows dark with mould, 
 
 Flitting like the memories of our childhood, 
 Through the trees now waxen pale and old. 
 
 Down below imaginations quivering 
 Through our human spirits like the wind, 
 
 Thoughts that toss like leaves upon the woodland, 
 Hopes like sea-birds flashed across the mind. 
 
 Up above, the host no man can number, 
 In white robes, a palm in every hand, 
 
 Each some work sublime forever working, 
 In fhe spacious tracts of that great land. 
 
 Up above, Ihe thoughts that know no anguish, 
 Tender care, sweet love for us below, 
 
 Noble pity free from anxious terror, 
 Larger love without a touch of woe.
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 207 
 
 Down below, a sad mysterious music, 
 Wailing through the woods and on the shore, 
 
 Burdened with a grand majestic secret, 
 That keeps sweeping from us evermore. 
 
 Up above, Wnusic that entwineth, 
 With eternal threads of golden sound, 
 
 The great poem of this strange existence, 
 All whose wondrous meaning hath been found. 
 
 Down below, the Church, to whose poor window, 
 Glory by the autumnal trees is lent, 
 
 And a knot of worshippers in mourning, 
 Missing some one at the Sacrament. 
 
 Up above, the burst of hallelujah, 
 
 And (without the sacramental mist 
 Wrapt around us like a sunlit halo) 
 
 One great vision of the face of Christ. 
 
 Down below, cold sunlight on the tombstone, 
 And the green wet turf with faded flowers, 
 
 Winter roses, once like young hopes burning, 
 Now beneath the ivy dripped with showers : 
 
 And the new made grave within the Churchyard, 
 And the white cap on that dear face pale, 
 
 And the watcher ever as it dusketh 
 Rocking to and fro with that long wail. 
 
 Up above, a crowned and happy spirit, 
 
 Like an infant in the eternal years, 
 Who shall grow in love and light forever, 
 
 Ordered in his place among his peers.
 
 208 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 O, the sobbing of the winds of autumn, 
 O, the desolate heart that grave above, 
 
 O, the white cap shaking as it darkens, 
 Round that shrine of memory and love. 
 
 O, the rest forever, and the rapture ! 
 
 O, the hand that wipes the tears away! 
 O, the golden homes beyond the sunset, 
 
 And the hope that watches o'er the clay!" 
 
 How eloquent the teaching, all humanity re- 
 sponds to it with loud voice and deep accord. 
 "We look from earth to heaven, and our hearts 
 are lifted up from sorrow and filled with bliss- 
 ful contemplations of the glorious life await- 
 ing us beyond the tomb.
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYER. 209 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 "Death should come 
 
 Gently to one of gentle mould, like thee, 
 As light winds wandering through groves of bloom, 
 
 Detach the delicate blossoms from the tree, 
 Close thy sweet eyes calmly, and without pain, 
 And we will trust in God to see thee yet again." 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 " Like the sweet melody which faintly lingers 
 
 Upon the wind-harp's strings at close of day, 
 When gently touched by evening's dewy fingers 
 
 It breathes a low and melancholy lay, 
 So the calm voice of sympathy me seemeth; 
 
 And while its magic spell is round me cast, 
 My spirit in its cloister'd silence dreameth, 
 And vaguely blends the future with the past." 
 
 Mrs. Embury. 
 
 " So, at the loom of life, we weave 
 
 Our separate shreds that varying fall, 
 Some stained, some fair; and passing leave 
 To God, the gathering up of all." 
 
 Lucy Larcom. 
 
 We had now another painful duty to per- 
 form, that of announcing to brother Fred, still 
 living in Charleston, the death of our brother. 
 We had seemed latterly only to have sad 
 tidings for him, and we dreaded writing. 
 18
 
 210 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Fred was of course much shocked, but bore 
 the intelligence more resignedly than we had 
 expected. We had known so many trials, that 
 sorrow was losing its keenest edge, and we 
 were able to bear more than we had supposed 
 it possible we could. Our Heavenly Father 
 had chastened us sorely, but He had been with 
 us and we were not utterly cast down. We 
 knew He would give us days of joy again 
 though now sorrow was weighing heavily 
 upon us. 
 
 Brother Fred determined to remove to Bal- 
 timore with his family. He found the southern 
 climate very enervating, and as our number 
 was now so lessened, he felt he would like the 
 few remaining to be near each other. Sister 
 Maria's health was failing fast ; she had for some 
 time shown symptoms of consumption, and 
 her disease was progressing rapidly. We 
 watched her day by day as the hectic flush 
 heightened in her cheek and her hard dry 
 cough increased. We knew she was not long 
 for this world. Our parents' and brother's 
 death had told severely upon her strength and 
 it was but too evident she would soon follow 
 them. Sister Minnie did all she could to com- 
 fort her ; she never wearied nursing the inva-
 
 MABY A. NIEMEYEB. 211 
 
 lid, but watched over her as she had over father 
 and mother. She was indeed a devoted daugh- 
 ter and a faithful sister. Our sister Maria 
 faded daily ; we saw death's signet on her brow ; 
 and as the Reaper "with his sickle keen," 
 drew near, she meekly resigned her breath and 
 fell asleep in the arms of her Saviour. 
 
 She bore her sufferings with great fortitude. 
 We thought our cup of sorrow full to the brim. 
 Her bereaved husband and his two motherless 
 children were deeply sympathized with by all 
 who knew them. As the stricken father held 
 his little ones to his heart he felt they were his 
 only treasures. They did not know their loss, 
 their tears were only shed because others older 
 grown wept. Very different to me was my 
 sorrow ; 1 understood how great the void death 
 made when 1 was left in the world, a bearer 
 of one heavy burden, with no mother's watch- 
 ful care to make it less. Time had assuaged 
 the first bitter sense of desolation, my tears 
 had ceased to fall, but the one star brighter 
 than all others in my sky had found its way 
 to another sphere; and from my soul would 
 come the sad thought ; 
 
 " I miss thec, my Mother ! Thy image is still 
 The deepest impressed on my heart,
 
 212 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 And the tablet so faithful, in death must be chill 
 
 Ere a line of that image depart. 
 Thou wert torn from my side when I treasured thee 
 most. 
 
 "When my reason could measure thy worth; 
 When I knew but too well that the idol I'd lose, 
 
 Could be never replaced upon earth. 
 
 I miss thee, my Mother, in circles of joy, 
 
 Where I've mingled with rapturous zest; 
 For how slight is the touch that will serve to destroy 
 
 All the fairy web spun in my breast. 
 Some melody sweet may be floating around 
 
 'Tis a ballad I learnt at thy knee; 
 Some strain may be played, and I shrink from the 
 sound, 
 
 For my fingers oft woke it for thee. 
 
 I miss thee, my Mother; when health for a season 
 
 has fled, 
 And I sink in the languor of pain, 
 
 Where, where is the arm that once pillowed my head, 
 And the ear that lovingly heard me complain? 
 
 Other hands may support, gentle accents may fall 
 For the fond and the true are yet mine: 
 
 I've a blessing for each; I am grateful to ail- 
 But whose care can be soothing as thine? 
 
 I miss thee, my Mother! Oh, when do I not. 
 
 Though I know 'twas the wisdom of Heaven 
 That the deepest shade fell on my sunniest- spot, 
 
 And such tie of devotion was riven ; 
 For when thou wert with me my soul was below, 
 
 I was chained to the world I then trod;
 
 MAKT A. NIEMEYEK. 
 
 My affections, my thoughts where all earth-bound; 
 
 but now 
 They have followed thy spirit to God ! " 
 
 The death of my sister, and the thought of 
 her children being left as they were, so uncon- 
 scious of what had befallen them, added a 
 keener pang to my heart. I realized afresh 
 the sorrow I had so recently passed through, 
 and I began to think earth was indeed only a 
 vale of tears. Sister Minnie and I took the 
 little motherless ones and endeavored to the 
 utmost of our ability to supply the place of 
 the dear one they had lost. When Mr. I. 
 married again, we transferred our charge to the 
 care of his wife. She very soon succeeded in 
 winning their love as she strove to do her 
 whole duty to those Providence had entrusted 
 to her. 
 
 The threads of my simple, quiet life are 
 gathered together. The recital has not been 
 very startling, I am well aware, yet doubtless 
 there has been outlined the prototype of more 
 lives than any herein wrought out; for not 
 many are great or wise in this world of ours. 
 The humbler walks of life are the crowded 
 ways. The few alone scale Alpine heights, or 
 move in solitary grandeur through the throng,
 
 214 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 A few closing points may not weary our very 
 patient reader, and I will give them 'ere I say 
 adieu. Sister Minnie and I connected our- 
 selves with the Third Reformed Church, the 
 one in which I had been confirmed some years 
 before, and of which I had been a member 
 during my association with the Institution. 
 "We found the congregation as I had known it 
 formerly, composed of generous-hearted, sym- 
 pathetic people, always willing to do good to 
 any among them they found less blessed by 
 Providence than themselves. Rev. Dr. Gans 
 had succeeded the former pastor. He had 
 gained the aifection of his flock ; and like a 
 good shepherd he entreated them tenderly and 
 earnestly to feed in religion's pastures and 
 green fields, that their souls might grow in 
 good works, ripening for the kingdom on high. 
 Dr. G. is a pious and saintly man, and his influ- 
 ence can only advance the cause for which he 
 toils. 
 
 Mr. John Rodenmayer has a large class of 
 young ladies in the Sabbath School; and I 
 have for some time enjoyed his instruction and 
 Christian counsel, and have greatly' profited 
 thereby. The school has an able Superinten- 
 dent in Mr. "Wm. F. Richstein.
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEK. 215 
 
 When we had been awhile settled in Balti- 
 more, we were greatly distressed to learn the 
 death of a dear friend, formerly a resident of 
 Middletown, but who latterly had made the 
 West her home, Miss Clara Williamson. She 
 was young and beautiful and life was full of 
 promise for her, but the Destroyer came and 
 the roses paled before the lilies' breath. She 
 was generally beloved and many eulogies were 
 paid her memory. So pretty, so gentle and 
 sweet, 
 
 "Tia difficult to feel that she is dead, 
 Her presence like the shadow of a wing 
 That is just lessening in the upper sky, 
 Lingers upon us. We can hear her voice 
 And for her step we listen and the eye 
 Looks for her wonted coming with a strange 
 Forgetful earnestness. 
 
 Many others who were our kind sympathi- 
 zers when distresses followed close upon each 
 other, we shall hold in lasting remembrance. A 
 number were unwearying in their attentions, 
 and though we are now separated still we love 
 to linger upon their many acts of friendship. 
 Such as these are often with us in thought 
 when " the hours of day are numbered," and
 
 216 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 we sit down to ponder upon the loved and dis- 
 tant ones. When the chilly Autumn shuts us, 
 at the even time, within doors, memory brings 
 back to us these absent friends, these guests 
 of the heart. Often I sit musing upon them, 
 while 
 
 " Soft falls through the gathering twilight, 
 
 The rain from the dripping eaves, 
 And stirs with a tremulous rustle 
 . The dead and dying leaves; 
 While afar, in the midst of the shadows, 
 
 I hear the sweet voices of bells, 
 Come borne on the wind of the Autumn, 
 
 That fitfully rises and swells. 
 
 They call and they answer each other, 
 
 They answer and mingle again, 
 As the deep and the shrill in an anthem 
 
 Make harmony still in their strain, 
 As the voices of sentinels mingle 
 
 In the mountainous regions of snow, 
 Till from hill-top to hill-top a chorus 
 
 Floats down to the valleys below. 
 
 The shadows, the firelight of even, 
 
 The sound of the rain's distant chime, 
 Come bringing, with rain softly dropping, 
 
 Sweet thoughts of a shadowy time; 
 The slumberous sense of seclusion, 
 
 From storm and intruders aloof, 
 We feel when we hear in the midnight 
 
 The patter of rain on the roof.
 
 MARY A. KIEMEYER. 217 
 
 When the spirit goes forth in its yearnings 
 
 To take all its wanderers home; 
 Or, afar, in the regions of fancy, 
 
 Delights on swift pinions to roam, 
 I quietly sit by the firelight 
 
 The firelight so bright and so warm 
 For I know those only who love me 
 
 Will seek me through shadow and storm. 
 
 But should they be absent this evening, 
 
 Should even the household depart, 
 Deserted, I should not be lonely, 
 
 There still would be guests in my heart. 
 The faces of friends that I cherish, 
 
 The smile, and the grasp and the tone, 
 Will haunt me wherever I wander, 
 
 And thus I am never alone. 
 
 With those who have left far behind them 
 
 The joys and the sorrows of time 
 Who sing the sweet songs of the angels 
 
 In a purer and holier clime. 
 Then darkly, O, evening of Autumn, 
 
 Your rain and your shadows may fall: 
 My loved and my lost ones you bring me 
 
 My heart holds a feast with them all."
 
 218 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 "We live in deeds, not years in thoughts, not breaths 
 In feelings not in figures on a dial; 
 We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives, 
 Who thinks most feels the noblest acts the best." 
 
 Bailey's Festus. 
 
 " Heaven doth with us as we with torches do ; 
 Not light them for themselves ; for if our virtues 
 Did not go forth of us 'twere all alike 
 As if we had them not." 
 
 Shakspere's Measure for Measure. 
 
 " Fare the well, and may th' indulgent gods 
 * * * * grant thee every wish 
 Thy soul can form! Once more farewell!" 
 
 Sophocles. 
 
 "A double blessing is a double grace; 
 Occasion smiles upon a second leave. 
 There, my blessing with you ! " 
 
 tShakspere's Hamlet. 
 
 The narration of the events of our quite life 
 is now complete. We hope it has afforded a 
 degree of pleasure. There remains now but a 
 parting tribute of gratitude to who have for 
 many years been the warm friends 'and elo- 
 quent advocates of the cause of the blind, and 
 who have by their practical benevolence done
 
 MAKY A. KIEMEYEB. 219 
 
 much towards lifting this unfortunate class 
 out of darkness into the marvellous light of 
 knowledge. 
 
 Among these in honored distinction as the 
 earliest friends who undertook the effort to 
 educate the blind should be named the late 
 Judge Glenn, Jacob I. Cohen, and Charles 
 Howard; these gentlemen labored zealously 
 and verily their good works have followed 
 them ; their earnest endeavors are now his- 
 toric, but these philantropists, pioneers in the 
 cause, as they were, will be often spoken ot 
 gratefully by those who never knew them, yet 
 who still have reaped the benefit of their lib- 
 erality. 
 
 Jacob Trust, Benjamin F. Newcomer and 
 Dr. Wm. Fisher have been at all times devoted 
 to this benevolence, and will ever be warmly 
 appreciated by all in whose behalf they have 
 shown so great interest. 
 
 J. Howard McHenry, President of the Board 
 of Directors, and John T. Morris, for a num- 
 ber of years the efficient Secretary, should 
 have high encomium for their labors for the 
 advancement of the blind. They express the 
 humanitarian in their every act, large in sym- 
 pathy, liberal in the practical development of
 
 220 AUTOBIOGKArilY OF 
 
 the same, and with the most enlightened views 
 as to the probable good that may be attained 
 by a careful study of the cause, they justly 
 receive from those they so magnanimously 
 serve, gratitude, that no words may adequately 
 express ; but which pulsates in hearts full to 
 overflowing with appreciation of their many 
 deeds of kindness. 
 
 If a man or woman wishes to realize the 
 full power of living, it must be by cherishing 
 noble hopes and purposes ; by having something 
 to do and something to live for, which is worthy 
 of humanity, and which, by expanding the ca- 
 pacities of the soul, elevates to God-like capa- 
 bilities the whole being, giving expansion and 
 symmetry as well to the body, which contains 
 the spiritual essence of existence, and beautify- 
 ing it with dignified expression. This is no new 
 argument but one old as Creation itself. It is 
 besides sound philosophy, and we may indulge 
 a just pride that among our fellow men are to 
 be found exponents every day and every where 
 of this elevated teaching. There are those all 
 around us whose first aim in life is to aid the 
 needy, to lift the fallen, to cheer the bereaved ; 
 and there are no holier offices, no more pious 
 purposes.
 
 MARY A. NIEMEYEK. 221 
 
 We have alluded gratefully, as we found it 
 in our heart to do, to the Officers and Directors 
 of the Institution for the instruction of the 
 blind, Maryland's greatest benevolence; and 
 we must not in this connection omit reference 
 to the Committee of Female Yisitors. Many 
 of these ladies have been friends of the Insti- 
 tution during its years of trial and vicissitude, 
 have taken active interest in this noble charity, 
 and have at last, as a result of the harmoni- 
 ous working of all who had espoused it, the 
 satisfaction of seeing their labors crowned with 
 success. Among these kind patrons, while all 
 are thankfully remembered, we may be permit- 
 ted to make especial mention of Mrs. Isabella 
 Brown ; this lady has been a large contributor 
 to the material prosperity and general welfare 
 of the blind. We have thus far made no men- 
 tion of the friend and physician of the Institu- 
 tion, Dr. James A. Steuart ; but we are not 
 willing to close the book without testifying to 
 his watchfulness and care. The general health 
 of the pupils was largely attributable to his 
 skillful supervision. We appreciated this, 
 for had our every other blessing been con- 
 tinued, and this one not been ours to enjoy,
 
 222 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 existence in the Institution with all its privi- 
 leges, would have been only a weariness. 
 
 Now Gentle Reader, a tender wish, a loving 
 word, a fond adieu, and we part, myself the hap- 
 pier that we have met ; for your perusal of the 
 pages of the modest life presented you, has en- 
 couraged, though so silently, the endeavor made 
 to draw some teachings from usual experiences, 
 and make them interesting. 
 
 We hope no shadow, that can not be re- 
 moved, has darkened your path ; but that the 
 light of Nature's glorious Sun has shone upon 
 your outward life, as that of the Sun of Righte- 
 ousness has illumed your inner being, making 
 bright with happiness that cannot pale or 
 change, all your soul's fair chambers. 
 
 For ourselves we have learned the blissful 
 truth of Jehovah's promise, " I will bring the 
 blind by a way that they knew not ; I will lead 
 them in paths that they have not known: I 
 will make darkness light before them, and 
 crooked things straight. These things will I 
 do unto them and not forsake them." He has 
 said, and His word cannot fail, He would 
 " open the blind eyes," this to us is a precious 
 thought, which though in its fullest sense we 
 may not realize with our earthly vision, yet in
 
 MART A. NIEMEYER. 223 
 
 the Great Beyond we know that we shall with 
 rapturous exhultation, 
 
 " Hail, holy Light, offspring of Heav'n first-born, 
 Or of th' Eternal co-eternal beam, 
 Bright effluence of bright essence increate." 
 
 Our spirits take fresh courage in the blest assu- 
 rance, and look upon this lower life as but the 
 vestibule of that higher one we hope to attain. 
 The story is told unto its end, and yet we 
 linger to leave a last adieu for the kindly 
 scanner of these pages. We shall never meet 
 again, but we are friends, and shall ever think 
 gently of each other ; a moment, and we are 
 separated : 
 
 " I have no parting glance to give, 
 So take my parting smile."
 
 UMlVJSiCglTX UF 
 
 AT 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 HV 
 
 1624 
 
 N55A2