THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES r AUTOBIOGRAPHY EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON. Au tobiography OF Edward Austin Sheldon Edited by MARY SHELDON BARNES With an introduction by ANDREW SLOANE DRAPER LL.B., LL.D. Commissioner of Education, State of New York NEW YORK IVES-BUTLER COMPANY 1911 Copyright, 1911, by IVES-BUTLER CO. Education Librar- CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. Earliest Recollections .- I II. The Pioneer Farm Boy's Occupations and Interests. 9 III. Other Farm Industries 15 IV. Our Apple Orchard 20 V. My School Life 23 VI. The Domestic Life of the Boy on the Farm 30 VII. The Religious Life of the Boy on the Farm 36 VIII. Preparing for College 40 IX. Introduction to College Life: College Associations: - 1844 46 X. College Life 55 XL Abandonment of College Course 61 XII. Beginning Life in Oswego : 1847; A Business Venture 66 XIII. The Ragged School : 1848-1849 74 XIV. Marriage : 1849 85 XV. The "Oswego Seminary": 1849-1851; and a Digres- sion to Syracuse : 1851-1853 89 XVI. "A Traitor to His Country" 95 XVII. Organization of Free Schools in Oswego: 1853 99 XVIII. The Work and Results of the First Year 104 XIX. Special Features Success of the "Machine" 109 XX. The Machine Found Wanting: Advent of the "Objective System" : 1859 116 XXL Life Outside the School 124 XXII. Our Home 129 XXIII. The Oswego Training School for Primary Teach- ers : 1861 133 v 550367 VI CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE XXIV. Extracts from Eighth Annual Report of Board of Education, Oswego, N. Y., 1861 140 XXV. An Educational Symposium 148 XXVI. Recognition as a State Institution (1863) and Ac- quirement of New Building (1866) 157 XXVII. Struggle and Victory 161 XXVIII. Reputation and Influence of the School 167 XXIX. Special Features in Organization 175 XXX. Activities of Dr. Sheldon's Last Years: 1887-1897. . 181 XXXI. In Memoriam . 190 XXXII. Family Life 192 XXXIII. Devotion to the Oswego Work 196 XXXIV. Relations with Colleagues 200 XXXV. Dr. Sheldon's Personality as Teacher and Friend.. 205 XXXVI. The Political Side of Dr. Sheldon's Career 209 XXXVII. Review and Reminiscence 214 Appendix 229 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE Edward Austin Sheldon Frontispiece The Old Home at Perry 10 The New Home at Perry 31 First Normal School Building 105 "Shady Shore" 130 Oswego State Normal and Training School (Old Building)... 141 The Family Group 193 Oswego State Normal and Training School (New Building) . . . 197 INTRODUCTION THIS book sets forth in somewhat graphic and very inter- esting ways several important phases of human progress in the State of New York, and so in the country. It pencils, with a master's hand, life in western New York when the Genesee country was upon the national frontier and sparsely peopled by the very salt of the earth. It throws light upon the early life at Hamilton College, one of the best of the many denominational colleges which started the beacon fires of education in New York. It portrays an educational missionary movement which was among the first, if it was not the very first, of its kind, and which initiated methods that have been adopted since in every considerable settlement in this country. It traces, with less detail than is desired, the evolution of one of the earliest, and certainly one of the very best, of the State schools for the training of teachers a school that was distinguished and became widely influential by reason of the sane and original educa- tional philosophy of its first great principal. And it takes some very natural excursions through the valleys and up to the mountain peaks of the far reaching and broken field of American education. Through all this there is the modest but virile personality of one of the great men of the nineteenth century. Con- structiveness is better than destructiveness ; intellectual and moral progress is of greater account than commercial and x INTRODUCTION industrial prosperity ; the real accomplishments o'f peace go deeper and reach farther than the victories of war. If Edward Austin Sheldon had done in business or in warfare what he did in education, he would have been thought a great man, and why should he not be characterized accu- rately because of the new outlook, the new methods, and the new spirit which he gave to all American schools? There never was a gentler spirit, and there never was a more exact master of organization and of detail. But he might have been all that, and so have gained our regard or admiration, without making any lasting impression upon the educational work of a country that is preeminent for its work in education, if he had not been moved by a philoso- phy of education which was then new and must always be fundamental and vital. And he might even have been imbued with that philosophy of education and not have made it a living force in the schools of his country, if he had not been as persistent and unyielding as he was gentle and sincere. Many strong, noble lives have entered into the making of the Oswego State Normal School. A considerable num- ber of exceptional teachers have given form and direc- tion and energy to its activities. But Dr. Sheldon was at the bottom of it all. He brought great teachers there; he tolerated none who were without decided merit; thus he made the average of efficiency remarkably high. With one accord these teachers would testify that Dr. Sheldon's mind dominated the life of the institution. An educational philosophy which came from his nature, his experiences, and his study, was enforced by his steadiness and his firmness, by his manner of preaching, and by his practicing what he INTRODUCTION xi preached, until it gave the Oswego Normal School a dis- tinctive character in the country; until it came to be dis- cussed in all the educational conventions for a generation ; and until it was clearly felt in all the schoolrooms in the land Dr. Sheldon was a gentle, vital, active force in all the educational activities of the State of New York. He was at the maximum of his influence during the six years when I was State Superintendent of Public Instruction. We became close friends at once. I could not understand at first all that he was trying to do, but it quickly grew upon me, for he was not long in bringing me under the spell of his mesmeric influence. I am gratified to see in this book a letter which went to him from my heart as I was leaving the office of State Superintendent. So far as the State was concerned, he had his way in all regards save one. That was the unifying of the two State departments of educa- tional administration. The book alludes to it. His pur- pose was correct, but the time had not come. We were both right; he in urging the movement, and I in refusing to join in the agitation of the proposition at that time. Our situations, relations, and responsibilities were different. Uni- fication had to come through more tribulation than we had endured or were prepared to endure at that time. Indeed, it would have failed then, no matter who supported it. It came in its own time and in its own way; and it came in better form and upon a surer footing than would have been possible either thirty, or twenty, or ten years earlier. But the editors have ample warrant for attributing to Dr. Shel- don a good share in the credit of it. Another great man of the schools, Dr. William T. Harris, once in conversation about our early New England homes xii INTRODUCTION said, "Don't give a cent to maintain an old hearthstone, but contribute all you can to publish a book about it." The Oswego Normal School will soon leave the old building which Dr. Sheldon and the associates whom he called about him made great. It will go to a new and more imposing structure upon the acres that he loved. It will not be neces- sary to worship the old building, but it is well to have pre- pared this book, for through the long future it will help keep green the memory of a good man and a great teacher. ANDREW S. DRAPER. Albany, N. Y., 1911. CHAPTER I EARLIEST RECOLLECTIONS THEY say I was born October 4, 1823, and from this date I reckon my years. It seemed to me a long time from one to twenty-one. As a boy I felt that I could never live to be twenty-one. Even now as I look back over my existence, it sometimes seems to me that I have lived forever. The things that I remember as a child are very trivial, and I suppose they could not be otherwise. So far as I can re- call, the first thing that left an ineffaceable trace on my memory was the act of the servant, one Alzada Simons, who, taking me in her arms, held me over the well that I might look down and see the water below. The well was in 'front of the door, only a few steps away ; the water being drawn by an old-fashioned well-sweep. Another act of this serv- ant also stays in my memory. She had been baking pumpkin pies and by some accident had upset one of them, to the serious disarrangement of it. This she gave to the boy Ed- ward, who, taking it out of doors and sitting down under the pantry window, eagerly devoured it, leaving no part of either crust or filling. I remember the little frame house in which we lived at that time, and many years subsequently. It had one com- mon living-room which served as kitchen, dining-room, parlor, and, in time of sickness as hospital. Off from this i 2 AUTOBIOGRAPHY was a small room occupied by father and mother as a sleep- ing-room, with a trundle-bed for the children, which was rolled under the parents' bed during the day and drawn out at night. The pantry was next to the bedroom and opened into the living-room. These three rooms occupied the first floor. The "chamber," as the upper floor was called, was a low half story all in one room, and was reached by a ladder. There stood the family loom with a bed at each end. By means o'f a blanket a partition was sometimes improvised in case of strict necessity. After a few years partitions were made and a staircase was built. Such was the house that my father erected for the reception of my mother in 1819. In 1815 my father took a farm one mile east of Perry Center. By the fall of 1818, he had succeeded in clearing ten acres of the solid forest of beech, oak, and maple, with a sprinkling of ash, white wood, and elm. He then returned on 'foot to New Marlboro (Mass.), taught school during the winter, and April 15, 1819, was married and started on his wedding tour toward the vast wilderness that had al- ready begun to yield to the woodman's axe. This trip was made by the bridal pair in a canvas-covered lumber wagon, which contained all their personal and housekeeping goods. The journey, which led in part through forests and over corduroy roads, was accomplished in about ten days, includ- ing the Sabbath, during which they halted. The new couple were taken into the log cabin with an uncle until the new frame house, already described, was ready for occupancy. In a few weeks they were installed in the home that was the birth-place of their children. The house was by no means completed at this time. It had no windows or doors, and no clap-boards. As for lath EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 3 and plaster, they were quite out of the question. They never had a place in the new house. In the event of a driving storm, which actually did occur, continuing for three days, what little the house contained was piled up in the center of the living-room to protect it from the rain. Uncle Oren, coming in at the time, and finding them in this sad plight, took my mother home with him until the storm was over. Before the closing in of winter, the doors and windows were in and the house was clapboarded. They were now fairly settled and ready for further pioneer work. My father had desired to be a doctor ; this his mother op- posed, wishing him to be a shoemaker. To gratify her, he spent some time in learning the trade, but it being against his taste, he abandoned it. He learned enough, however, to be of service to him in repairing the shoes of the 'family. The harnesses, he always repaired. I well remember the old shoemaker's bench with its meager kit of tools which al- ways stood in the upper chamber. He also tried his hand at school teaching, as almost everybody did in those days ; but he was, by inheritance from a long line of ancestors, fitted to be a pioneer and a farmer. The new farm contained at the outset a little over one hundred acres of solid wood. By slow degrees the forest melted before his axe, until the broad and fertile fields of waving grain gave evidence of a wonderful conquest. The method of clearing the land was to fell the timber into piles and windrows, as far as possible, and, when a little dry, set fire to the fallen timber and burn all that would burn. What was left was drawn and piled up in large heaps called log heaps. The process was called logging. When in right condition for it, these log heaps were burned, and 4 AUTOBIOGRAPHY then the land was cleared and ready for a crop, which was sowed or planted among the stumps. The only product of the timber, aside from a certain quantity of charcoal manu- factured, was the ashes left on the ground. These were carefully gathered up and sold to the "asheries," where they were converted into potash. In the early history of the country, these asheries were scattered all over the country. These were hard times for the early settlers, as is the case in every new country. My Uncle Horace used to tell the story of going five miles to exchange wheat for nails, a bushel of wheat for every pound of nails. Money was very scarce. Barter was the usual mode of exchange. As for clothing, this was largely manufactured and made up by the industrious housewife. Nearly every house had its wheels for spinning and looms for weaving both linen and wool. Our mothers did wonderful things with these primitive aids o'f industry. With the linen wheel, which now stands in our parlor, honorably resting from its labors, linen thread was spun. With the hand loom, which always stood in the chamber, this thread was woven into cloth for towels, bed furnishing, and summer clothes for the children. Some of the garments thus made were a part of my outfit for college. We children were always interested in seeing these occu- pations go on. The preparation of the flax for the wheel was quite as interesting as the spinning and weaving. The flax for this purpose was pulled up by the roots by hand, and laid in thin layers in swaths to dry. When thoroughly dry it was bound in bundles and packed away under the ridgepole of the barn on a scaffolding of rails, where it EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 5 would keep perfectly dry. It was the business of the boy to do the stowing away. The time of highest delight was in the early spring, when the "brake" and hetchel were brought out, the bundles of flax thrown down, unbound, and in small handfuls put under the heavy "brake." This was a wooden instrument about four to six feet long, consisting of two parts attached at the end by a pin which allowed the upper part to move freely on the lower. The lower part stood on legs that raised it three or 'four feet from the ground, and consisted of five or six narrow strips of hard wood, probably maple, tapering to a narrow edge on their upper side. The upper part was similarly constructed and, when brought down, the long knife-like strips just fitted into the openings be- tween the strips on the lower part. The upper jaw of the machine being raised, the handful of flax was placed in the lower jaw, and then the upper was made to fall heavily on the flax, to break the woody fibre, called "shives." This operation was repeated until all the wood in the flax was thoroughly broken up. The fibres were then placed over the top of a board about four feet high and ten to twelve inches wide, finished up to a somewhat sharp edge; this instrument was the "swingle board." The "swingle knife," made of wood in the shape of a two-edged sword or blade, was three or four inches wide and as many feet in length. With the broken flax placed over the top o'f the swingle board, the workman proceeded to work out the woody fibre by striking it with the swingle knife. The flax being thus freed of its shives, was subjected to the hatchel (commonly called "hetchel"). This instrument consisted of a large number of sharp spikes fastened 6 AUTOBIOGRAPHY through an end of a board two or three feet long and five to six inches wide. The flax being drawn through these teeth was freed of its coarser parts, called tow. Being sub- jected to two or three of these hatchels, of different grades, it became fit for the spinning wheel. The finer products of the hatchel were worked into a coarse tow cloth, and the dressed flax into cloth of a fine texture. From the spindle of the wheel the yarn was reeled off onto spools ready for the loom. Little use was made of the coarsest tow that came from the first hatcheling, except for packing and chinking. The finer portions were converted into a 'coarse cloth for bags, towels, and children's clothing. Such were the processes by which the flax was made to serve the needs of the household. The manufacture of woolen garments was a larger and more important element of household economy. There, too, was much that interested the boys and gave occupation to the girls. First came the sheep washing, which was to the boys one of the most important days in the whole year. Usually two or three farmers would join flocks as a mat- ter of greater economy in operating. Each person was fitted out with a bundle of old clothes to be worn while handling the sheep in the water. The presence of the boy was most essential on this occasion to drive and hurdle the sheep. The place selected for the washing must be well provided with water, preferably where there was a flume, so that the water could be allowed to flow freely, and so facilitate the cleansing of the wool. The flock was first driven into an enclosure adjoining the water. The boy was allowed to join in the catching of the sheep and bringing them to the water's edge for the men, who were in the water to their EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 7 waists, engaged in washing them. When the last sheep had thus been washed and set free, all started for home. Sheep shearing was next in order. This, too, was one of the great days for the boy on the farm. He was always present to help catch the sheep for the shearers. And then the lambs must have their tails cut off and their ears marked; and the handling of the lambs was the peculiar prerogative of the boy, who never failed to be on hand and to be very active on such occasions. The fleeces taken 'from the sheep were rolled up and packed away for a favorable market, or sent to the mills to be carded into rolls ready for the spinster. This carding was sometimes done at home with small hand cards. The spinning was done on a wheel with a large rim, which the spinster turned with the right hand, as with the left, she held the rolls, and stepping back drew out the yarn, which she returned to the spindle by retracing her steps in a for- ward direction. Thus back and forth, backward and for- ward, she would tread day after day, filling spindle after spindle, being repeatedly relieved by drawing off the thread onto the reel. From the reel it was wound on spools ready for the loom. The weaving of the thread into cloth was a slow process, and was done at odd moments snatched from the household duties. So it would be a long time before a piece of cloth would be completed, and then taking it 'from the loom was an act of no small importance. It was the end of a long and tedious piece of work. The spinning was often done by young women brought into the house and paid by the day. The weaving, however, was usually done by the mother, and it was not common for the daughter or young 8 AUTOBIOGRAPHY people to learn to do this work, so that it will soon be a lost art if it is not already so. The sponging and cutting into garments was usually left with the tailor, although the garments for the younger children were cut, sometimes, by the mother. That such mothers were very capable women, goes with- out saying. Such a woman was my mother. Although never a well woman, she was diligent, patient, and persever- ing, and accomplished a great deal in the course of the year. She lived not for herself alone, but did many deeds of mercy and charity. She looked after the sick and needy of the neighborhood. She might o'ften be seen with her bundle of medicinal herbs, of which she always kept an abundant supply, going to prescribe for some sick child or neighbor. She was an admirable nurse, and knew how to employ many simple remedies for common diseases, and particularly those of children. To the church and many of the religious benevolences of the day she gave much time and aid. Her Bible class of adults she held until she was ninety years old. Her mental faculties remained unim- paired until the day of her death at about ninety-six years of age. CHAPTER II THE PIONEER FARM BOY'S OCCUPATIONS AND INTERESTS AMONG other occupations of the house in which my mother engaged, and which always interested us children, was candle-making. Very little was bought that could be made in the house, and her candles were the principal de- pendence for light in the house and barn. They were made of different sizes and lengths for the various uses to which they were to be put. The wicks for the house were mostly made of cotton wicking, which was bought by the pound and arranged in suitable lengths and bulk for the kinds of candles to be made. The wicks for the barn lantern were, however, made from tow spun into thread and prepared for the purpose. The tow wicking did not give so good a light as the cotton, but lasted longer, and was thus more economical. We got along with less light in those days than would satisfy the households of to-day. No candle was allowed to burn when not in use and several people together were ac- comodated with a single light. The wicks, arranged nine on a rod, the rods with each end on a pole arranged for the purpose were placed side by side at sufficient distance so that the candles would not touch each other as they grew under the hand of the manipulator. A vessel of hot tallow was placed conveniently near for the purpose, and the wicks 9 io AUTOBIOGRAPHY on the rod were dipped in the tallow successively until all were dipped. By the time the last rod of wicks was dipped, the first row would be sufficiently cool to allow of another dipping, and so the process was repeated until the candles were of the desired size. It was interesting to the boy to see these long rows of white candles hanging by their loops, and growing larger at each successive dipping. To avoid soiling the floor by any drops of tallow, boards were placed under the candles as they were being dipped. The proper consistency of the candles was a matter of no small importance. This was regulated by more or less beeswax being added to the tallow. The form of the candles was also thought of, and to be sure that they would remain straight and smooth the wicks were first dipped in pure melted tallow and then run through the hand and stretched out to their full length. This was a preparation for the regular dipping. When the dipping was completed, they were allowed to stand until perfectly cool, when they were sorted and packed away in boxes ready for use. The tallow used was the savings from the beef and mutton used during the year. "Butchering" was another intensely interesting occasion. An occasional beef or sheep was killed, and as the neighbors did the same thing, exchanges were made, thus arranging a sufficient supply of fresh meat for all. In those days, in the country, there were no meat markets or meat peddlers. Much salt meat was used, particularly beef and pork, which was packed away in barrels and salted as the cattle or hogs were killed. The kindling of the fire around the great potash kettle, the arranging of the temporary scaffolding with its in- THE OLD HOME AT PERRY. EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON n clined plane, up which the carcasses were to be drawn into position for being dipped into the boiling water to scald the skin so that the hair could be easily pulled or scraped off; the suspending them by the heels on the great cross-bar, the taking out of the entrails; the selecting of such portions as were considered suitable for use, notably the heart and those parts of the entrails adapted to making sausages ; the removing of the dressed carcasses to the cellar; the cutting up of the meat for packing; these were all operations that would naturally interest a boy, and especially if he were made to feel that his help was important, an inference he was very likely to make even if not stated to him in so many words. The pork was usually "cut up" and packed at night. There were some other things that naturally grew out of "butchering day," that also appealed to the boy notably the "stuffing of sausages." This was indeed a red-letter occasion for the whole household. So important was the occasion that it became the date from which we reckoned the time for arranging various important matters; notably the coming of the schoolmaster to board for these were the days when the schoolmaster "boarded around." He was supposed to board with each patron of the school ac- cording to the number of the family represented in the school. We sometimes thought, however, that other condi- tions had something to do with the length of his stay in some families, and it would not be strange if they did; indeed, quite human that they should. But it was the gen- erally expressed wish that he should not come until after the "stuffing of sausages." With the children, sausage stuffing was an event looked 12 AUTOBIOGRAPHY forward to and remembered with the greatest delight. When the delectable day came, all the chores and other af- fairs that required attention were disposed of at an early hour, and the whole family of little ones gathered around the central figures, father and mother, who had the work to perform. The sausage skins had been thoroughly cleansed by turning them inside out, scraping them, and rinsing in many waters, and were piled in a vessel by the side of the operators. The sausage meat, consisting of lean pork chopped fine, had been previously prepared with cer- tain spices to suit the taste of the family, and placed in a vessel hard by. The sausage filler was constructed some- thing like a squirt gun. It would hold perhaps two or three quarts, and when filled, the meat was forced out with the piston through the narrow stem which was inserted into one end of the delicate skin, the other end being securely 'fastened ; and with marvelous quickness, a thing in the eyes of the children wonderous to behold, a full-grown sausage, three to four feet long and an inch in diameter, lay curled up, serpent-like, before us. The sausages were hung up on poles for a few days to season, and then were packed away in jars and melted lard poured over them, filling all the interstices. Thus they were preserved for use as wanted. The annual festivity that went on throughout the entire farming community at the "butchering" season deserves recognition. It must be remembered that fresh meat was not the ordinary diet of the farmers, and especially the fresh pork. The fresh beef and lamb, the veal, and the chicken came in occasionally, at different seasons of the year, but there was no meat so palatable to most of us as EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 13 some of the choice bits of the freshly killed pig. Such at least, appeared to be the general judgment of the people who indulged in this feast. Luckily the neighbors did not all butcher on the same day, but the time extended through several weeks including the latter part of November, and the early days of December, so that, by a system of ex- change, the fresh pork feast went on continuously well nigh to the end of the year. The joyful anticipations and glad remembrances of this prolonged feast still linger vividly in the memory after three score years and ten; and although it is long since I ceased to eat pork in any form, yet there is no kind of meat that I even now consider more toothsome than the tenderloin and the sausage as they came to my mother's table. Salt meat was the staple meat of the farm then and I suppose it may be even to this day. The men who work hard in the open air each day seem to thrive on it, but it could hardly be recommended to persons of less active employment. The making of soap was, in a way, the outcome of the butchering season, although not immediately resulting. All the rinds from the pork, the bones, and every bit of grease and fat not consumed were scrupulously saved for the making of soft soap. The wood ashes from the stove were saved and put into the "leach," to which water was added and the resultant lye caught in a vessel at the bottom. This leach consisted of a hollow log cut from the forest and set on end. The lye was essential in the manufacture of the soap. The making of the soap gave a hard day to the housekeeper, and, although it was mostly out-of-door work, but few others on the farm had much to do with it. A 14 AUTOBIOGRAPHY barrel of soft soap was always placed in the cellar as the product. It was used for laundry work, and a dish of it always stood in the wash-room for use by the men in wash- ing their hands as they came from their work. CHAPTER III OTHER FARM INDUSTRIES To THE royal occasions on the farm that helped greatly to give this kind of life a charm and left behind most pleasant memories, I must add a few others of no less importance to the boy. Among these, was the "taking up of the bees." In those days the bees were allowed to swarm naturally and were shaken from their temporary resting-place into rude hives, made fresh and clean and scented with "bee-balm" with the hope of making a welcome new home for them. Sometimes, however, they preferred a venture to the forests, and the din and noise of horns and tin pans was not suffi- cient to deter them from their purpose. I shall never forget the sweet lullabies of my mother as she sat by the newly- hived swarm, with the bees flying thick about her. Her voice seemed to have a charm for them that usually con- tented them to remain where they were. They seemed to have no thought of harming her. When the old hives became quite full of honey the bees were destroyed, and the honey was taken from the hive. A shallow hole eight or ten inches deep was dug in the ground, of proper size to allow the hive just to cover it. Small sticks three or four inches long were prepared, sharpened at one end and split at the other, with a small swab of cloth saturated with melted brimstone inserted into the split ; and 16 AUTOBIOGRAPHY four or five of them were stuck into the ground at the bottom of the hole. These being lighted,, the doomed bees were set over the burning brimstone torches, and earth was packed tight around the bottom of the hive to prevent any ingress of fresh air or egress of live bees. All holes and cracks in the hive had been previously closed up. That the bees were soon all smothered is apparent. For a short time they were left to their fate, and then, if on striking the hive no answer came back, the decision followed that all were dead and the hives were taken to the house, turned bottom side up, and the process of extracting the honey went on as comb after comb was piled away in tin pans and on platters. In this way hundreds of pounds o'f honey were stored away for winter use. My mother never hid anything from her boys, and the piles of honey were no exception. The children went to them when they wished and helped themselves with perfect freedom. At times they would take with them a friend to enjoy the sweet repast. I am glad my father kept bees and did it in the old-fashioned way, otherwise many a joyful occasion and sweet remembrance would have been taken out of my life. After more modern hives were substituted for the old hollow log, or the square box with stationary supports for the combs, and we began to draw honey out in boxes, our bee-keeping very soon came to an end. The beginning o'f haying, too, had its season of anticipa- tion. There was the repairing of the hand-rakes, the put- ting in of missing teeth, the replacing of broken or worn- out forms, snaths and scythes, repairs to hay-racks, the putting of bays and hay-sheds in order, ready to receive the new hay ; and lastly the grinding of the scythes as the final EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 17 act of preparation. In those days we had no mowing ma- chines, no hay-tedders, no horse-rakes, and no patent horse- forks everything was done by hand. In haying-time the boy had to turn the grindstone for the sharpening of the scythes. He was expected to follow the mowers and spread the grass that they left in the swaths, to facilitate the curing of the hay. If water was wanted it was his task to bring it. He also brought the luncheons in the middle of the forenoon. When required, he assisted in turning the hay to hasten the curing and in raking it into wind-rows for the pitchers; if it was to be cocked up, he raked up the scattered hay; he raked after the pitchers as the hay was loaded on the wagons ; and he was indispensable in mowing it away, especially under the low roof and in narrow places not easily accessible to the men. If nothing more important was required of him, he was set to treading down the hay, to make it as compact as possible. The wheat harvest hardly waited for the completion of the haying. A man who in those days could, with his hand- cradle, cut two acres a day, was considered a smart man ; and the one who could follow him with the rake and bind what he cut, was regarded as a man of rare capability. In this way, two men would possibly cut and bind two acres a day. It was more common for the boy to rake the grain after the cradle, while a man 'followed to bind the sheaves. At the end of the day the sheaves were put in shocks of about twelve bundles. In this part of the work the boy was usually called upon to help. At their leisure hours the children were allowed to glean the scattering heads of grain, and after the threshing, were paid for the product in money. 1 8 AUTOBIOGRAPHY After the haying and harvesting came the threshing of the grain. This was, indeed, a gfand occasion. The threshers came with two teams and two men one man to drive the horses that ran the machine, and one to tend the machine, feeding it with grain. The work of the boy was to get the sheaves from the mow, and to hand them unbound to the man who fed the machine. This required one boy to unbind and two or three, depending on the distance the sheaves were from the machine, to get the sheaves to the boy that unbound. The unbinding meant the loosening of the knots at both ends, lest they should clog or injure the machine. This was lively work and allowed of no rest so long as the machine was running. At the tail of the ma- chine stood a man who removed the straw. A second man took the straw from the first and landed it outside the threshing floor. A third man pitched it upon the stack, where were usually a man and boy to stack it. As the stack grew in height an additional pitcher was required. Not all the grain was threshed in this way. Odd bits were beaten with the ancient flail. This was a slow process, but gave employment in the winter when there was not so much to do. Another equally primitive mode was sometimes em- ployed. The threshing floor was filled with sheaves of grain, and a span of horses or a yoke of cattle was turned in and made to tread out the kernels by passing round and round on the sheaves ; care being taken to allow them to change directions before they should become dizzy. The straw was occasionally turned until the grain was fully ex- tracted. The threshing, by whatever process, did not, by any means, end all of the hard work. The grain had yet to be EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 19 winnowed and sent to the market or the mill. For this part of the work the boy was always called into requisition. He must, at least, turn the fanning-mill that freed the kernels from the chaff and foul seed. Ordinarily it had to pass through the mill twice before being properly cleaned for the market. This work was usually done on rainy days and at night when out-of-door work could not be attempted. Many a weary day and dark night have I devoted to the turning of a fanning-mill crank. I would turn with one hand until it was tired, then change to the other hand, and for variety would employ both hands. For a few turns this might be enjoyed by the boy, but long continued the aspect of the work changed. To swim in the wheat when stored in the ample bins suited his idea of fun much better. Nothing afforded a more acceptable play-ground than a bin of winnowed wheat. When the wheat was put in bags and loaded into the wagon for the miller or the market, it was the boy's privilege to go along as companion. This often meant a ride of from fifteen or twenty miles in the round trip. The lunch was taken along, as also the bait for the horses, and partaken of at the place of marketing the wheat. This was usually York or Geneseo, places seven to ten miles away. All this was adapted to the capacity of the boy's enjoyment, and he relished it. CHAPTER IV OUR APPLE ORCHARD WHEN my father planted his apple orchard, his neighbors asked him if he ever expected to get any apples from it. He acknowledged that he had slight hopes of ever realizing very much fruit from it, but he thought his children might. In a short time, within two or three years, he had the pleasure of picking two apples. The next year he had a peck, and then stopped measuring. For fifty years or more he gathered abundant crops, and then they became at times a source of no mean revenue. The family was always abundantly supplied, and he had usually a handsome surplus for the market. That orchard was one of the most delightful resorts of our childhood. Even in advanced life, after the old farm had gone into other hands, the remembrances were so vivid that it was not a little sad to my sister and me to see the old orchard cut down as no longer profitable to the farmer. In imagination our memories still cling to this favored spot. But our cup of joy was complete, filled to overflowing, when the final apple harvest came. This was the time when the help of the boy was fully appreciated a fact which added genuine dignity to his presence. He was everywhere ready to pick up, to sort, to carry, to pile, anything and everything that was in his capacity to do. He liked to 20 EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 21 handle apples, he liked to see the red and silver piles, he liked to see wagons loaded to their brims with the apples destined for the cider mill everything connected with this business was a source of great delight to him. There was the unloading of the choice apples for winter use, and placing them by their sorts in the bins; the taking of the cider apples to the mill; the sips of sweet cider through straws, as it exuded from the press on its way to the vat below ; or the more hearty draughts from the cup provided for the purpose at the vat itself; the bringing home of the cider barrels and placing them in the cellar, destined for vinegar all these were added phases of the prolonged joy. And then we are never tired of going to the cellar to view the apples in the bins, to take a sip of the sweet cider, and fill our pockets with the most luscious fruit the ample stores afforded; a supply that rarely failed us until a new crop appeared. No restraint was ever put on the children. They always had all they cared for, and the r boy was sure to take a generous treat for his schoolmates, which his numerous pockets furnished him the opportunity for doing. Then there was the drying of the apples for use when the stock of green apples in the early summer should run low, or for exchange at the grocery for such articles as were needed in the 'family. My father was an expert in paring apples with the knife, the only process known in the early childhood of the boy. Notwithstanding the expertness of my father at this business, it was a slow process at best, and it was hardly possible to prepare large quantities in this way. Later, when the paring machine and corer came into use, the case was different. Then it was that the dried ap- ples were sent to the market by the bushel. 22 AUTOBIOGRAPHY It was the work of the boy to quarter the apples and string the quarters for drying. These strings were hung on poles in front of the great fireplace or in the open sun, according to the weather and the season. Sometimes the quarters were placed on boards in the sun without stringing, or were dried in the oven. This preparation of dried fruit gave occasion for the "apple-paring bee," which brought together boys and girls of the neighborhood for a jolly time. The boys usually pared the apples and cored them on machines, while the girls quartered, removing any re- maining bits of skin or cores, and attended to the stringing. Some work was accomplished at the "bees," but never to the exclusion of much 'fun and frolic. These "apple-paring bees" will remain in the memories of all the participants until memory fails to do its work. I am grateful for the old orchard and all that it brought to me as a boy joy, health, and good living; and above all, for the thoughtful father who planted it. It remained during his life-time a monument to his wisdom and fore- thought. I am glad he lived so long to enjoy it. MY SCHOOL LIFE SCHOOL life to me was one continuous holiday. To study was out of the question. I did not know what it was to study. I have no remembrance of having studied a mo- ment in two years, unless it might be called studying to memorize lists of (to me) utterly meaningless words. If 'this doubt'ful process may be called studying, I did study my spelling lessons one winter when a prize of one dollar was offered to the one who should be at the head of the spelling class the most times. This prize was a temptation that I could not resist to engage in a most unpleasant occu- pation. To the mind of the boy, one dollar was a mine of wealth. He never possessed so much in all his life and he resolved to win it, cost what effort it might. He went in to win and was partially successful. It was equally divided between him and a girl in the school. There began and ended all his efforts at studying in the public school. The boy literally hated study. With tears in his eyes, over and over again, he pleaded with his father to allow him to stay at home and work. The father's answer always was, "Edward, when you are older, you will always be sorry that you neglected your school." The answer of the heart, though not expressed in words, was, "I know bet- ter." I am not prepared to say that I have much feeling 23 24 AUTOBIOGRAPHY of regret for the loss of anything that possibly could be gotten out of those schools. I regard them as practically worthless. I really think it would have been better if my 'father had granted my request and kept me at home. I am inclined to the opinion that I got out of them all that was possible, and all that other boys did realize. The chief benefit one received came from contact. I often think that children get more of intellectual and spiritual growth from their plays and consequent contact than from their books and instruction. This part of my early training was abund- ant and efficient. My schoolmates and associates were not, as a rule, bad or vicious. Like all boys and girls, they were fond of play, and in this we all indulged as freely as opportunity offered both in and out of school. For both, we had rare faculties. Not that these were purposely provided by the district or school officers but the environment was such that we were able to appropriate them to ourselves. We had no school grounds provided for play. I suppose that land at that time and in that locality might have been five or ten dollars an acre, and the trustees felt that they could not afford sufficient land 'for such a useless purpose as a play-ground. To avoid any expense of this kind, they placed the school- house on the refuse of one of the asheries to which I have already referred. The boundaries of this old ash-heap de- termined the boundaries of the school lot provided by the district. In the schoolroom itself we entertained ourselves in dis- cussing such rude pictures as we found in our spellers and readers and geographies. Thus we thumbed out the books, but never really studied them. If a picture interested us, EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 25 we would read to find what was said about it. In this way I read over and over again what the old man said to the saucy boy in the apple tree and the boy's treatment of the matter. In the geography, the polar bear interested me very much, and I literally carved him up with my jack- knife. Every child, old or young, had for his stock reading the old English reader. There was little in it that I under- stood, but I had gone over it so many times, having the words pronounced for me and hearing others pronounce them, that I had learned everything by heart; and being of the opinion that the one that read the fastest was the best reader, I used to rattle it off as fast as I could make my tongue go. Not understanding the meaning of anything I read, and having caught wrong pronunciation from hear- ing others read, I discovered, later in life, that I had made some very ridiculous mistakes. One I remember, in a quo- tation from the Bible which reads, "Is thy servant a dog that he should do this thing?" but which I always read at school, "Is thy servant bedaubed that he should do this thing?" This I suppose I must have read, or more properly recited, so rapidly, that the teacher never discovered the mistake. I do not remember to have been directly taught anything or to have received criticism on anything. I was always interested in what was going on in the schoolroom. When any punishment was to be inflicted I was all eyes and ears to know all about it, and there were some very unique things done in this line. Whipping with the rod and ferule were of so common occurrence that they became rather stale and commonplace, unless some new feature came in. This sometimes occurred. I remember 26 AUTOBIOGRAPHY the case of my cousin Jabez Ward, who was sent by the master to get a beech whip with which to take a chastise- ment. He came in with a fine efficient-looking whip, but he had taken the precaution to cut it almost through, in a number of places, so that as the master should strike with it, it would readily fall apart. The master discovered this trick, and sent him for another and gave him a double dose. Another boy who got frequent whippings, managed to put on several waistcoats, one over the other, in this way thinking to pad himself 'for the blows. He was obliged to remove one after another until the whip could be made to feel on the skin. A few teachers with more fertility of device, introduced some quite ingenious penalties. A troublesome boy was placed between two girls, and a troublesome girl between two boys. The punishment consisted in the ridicule brought down on the culprit's head by the school. But for this de- risive laugh, one might have thought that this would be a very agreeable chastisement. Another penalty was to stand and hold some heavy object, as a book, in the hand, with the arm stretched out at full length. When the arm faltered some reminder from the master would bring it up to place. In time, this pose be- came very painful. Another method, similar in its effect, was to require the recreant to stand with legs erect and bend the body over at the hips, stretch out the arm to its fullest extent, and place one finger on a nail in the floor, with the pretense of holding it in place so that it should not come out; if he began to lop down in any way, a sharp blow 'from the ruler would bring him into position. In time, too, this became exceedingly painful. EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 27 One master would place the boy on the toe of his shoe with the leg crossed over the knee and toss him up and down a few times, and then with a vigorous toss of the foot, throw him into the air and leave him to descend by the force of gravity, to the floor, with a heavy thud. An- other device, by the same master, was a gallows, consisting of a strong rope suspended from the ceiling and coming down about to the heads of ordinary boys. When a serious case had to be dealt with the culprit was placed under the rope and the master would then take from his pocket a large, strong, red silk handkerchief and begin to twist it into the form of a rope, talking in the meantime to the boy as though his end was near, to prepare his mind for the final event so near at hand. The handkerchief would be adjusted to the boy's neck and when he began to feel the pull on his throat, the effect the master desired to make on the boy was considered satisfactory and a reprieve was granted. Of course, this scheme soon wore out and some other device had to be substituted. Another master was reported as kicking his pupils in punishment, but I was never an eye-witness to this proceeding. Personally, I never suffered very seriously from the school punishments. The worst thing that happened to me in this line was to be caught by the collar and thrown through the air backward into the middle of the floor, land- ing on the back of my head in a way that stunned me. The arrangement of the seats was on this wise: we had no desks proper, but around the outside of the room against the wall ran a pine board, sixteen or eighteen inches wide, with front edge an inch or two lower than the rear edge. This served as writing-desk or support for the books when 28 AUTOBIOGRAPHY "studying." In front of this shelf were arranged pine benches without backs on which to sit. All the pupils had to do when they wished to face the wall was to throw their feet over this bench or get them over as best they could. When sitting at the writing desk in this way, our backs were toward the master. Lower benches were arranged around the room 'for the younger children. One of the rules of the school was that there should be no eating of fruit in the schoolroom. At recess I had been eating an apple, and when the rap on the window called us in, I came promptly, with some of the apple I had been eating still in my mouth. I took my seat, facing the wall. The next thing that happened to me I have already stated. I went 'home, not to return for some days, not until the teacher had apologized to my father for his rude, hasty treatment of a boy innocent of any serious offense. The only other punishment at school to which I remem- ber having taken any particular exception, was the require- ment of the teacher that I should kiss my great toe. The fact that the teacher was a cousin made the demand none the less offensive. It is true I had just performed the act of my own accord as a bit o'f fun, which led the teacher to require a repetition of the performance as a punishment. The conditions were very different. In the one case it was a voluntary act entered into to amuse my seatmates, and in the other case it was forced upon myself for the amuse- ment of the teacher and the ridicule of companions. As a rule, instruments of punishment were kept on hand ready for use. In the teacher's desk securely locked were whips, ferules, fool's caps and dunce-blocks, so that no time need be lost for the application while the temper was EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 29 still hot. This particular teacher who was so ingenious in his method of punishment, was also ingenious in other directions. He believed in keeping his school wide awake, a feature in which he succeeded very well. Among other tricks he resorted to when things got a little dull, was to have the school drop everything and spell the 'following words in concert: Ho, no, hono-; ri, honori; fi, honorifi-; ca, honorifica-; bi, honorificabi-; li, honorificabili; to, honori- ficabilito-; ti, honorificabilitoti- ; bus, honorificabilitotibus- ; que, honorificabilitotibusque. Every syllable spelled was pronounced by itself and then added to the preceding syll- ables, and the word so far as completed was pronounced and the last syllable was long drawn out with a tremendous squeal. This was always entered into with great gusto, and was sure to wake up all drowsy souls. The "spelling school" was a characteristic feature of these old-time country schools, and one that especially interested me. Not the spelling, at all. I didn't care a fig about learning to spell. I utterly despised learning of all kinds. I regarded grammatical forms of speech as stilted, bom- bastic, "set up." The dialect of the neighborhood was good enough for me. I was interested in the evening spelling schools on account of their social element, their jolly fellowship, and particularly because they afforded an opportunity of "going home with the girls." CHAPTER VI THE DOMESTIC LIFE OF THE BOY ON THE FARM I HAVE no remembrance of a cross or unkind word that ever passed between my father and mother. They were uniformly respect' ful, kind, and loving toward each other. We children had a genuine affection for our parents and never thought of disobeying them. Our father said little, but when he spoke, his words were like orders to us. My mother was more social in her nature and talked more freely. She was intelligent, she was well educated for a woman in her time, and she talked good sense. We had a feeling of reverence for both parents. All our domestic habits were very simple, our diet was plain, but everything was wholesome and well-cooked. Our meats were largely salt pork and beef, with an occasional cod or salmon. Fresh meat came in occasionally. The meats were mostly fried for breakfast and boiled for dinner. For supper, we often had dried beef cooked in a delicious milk gravy. Of this we never tired. Milk was abundant and we used it freely. In the season of currants and raspberries, I enjoyed nothing better than a bowl of bread and milk with currants or other berries. We were also fond of jellies and honey, of which we always had an abundant supply. Pies, doughnuts, and cookies were al- 30 EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 31 ways on hand. We never thought of closing any meal without a piece of pie. Cold water was our only beverage, except that my mother had an occasional cup of tea, or of homemade barley coffee. This was made by scorching barley and grinding it, and using it the same as coffee. It was a palatable and nourish- ing drink. My 'father used no tobacco or spirituous beverages of any kind. As a family it might have been said of us very truly and in a literal sense that we were every one of us tee-totalers. Our clothing was always of the plainest and most sub- stantial kind, largely homemade. Our best suits were worn only on Sundays or rare social occasions. We put them on Sunday morning after the chores were done and the horses harnessed and doffed them immediately on reaching home after the church services. They were carefully put away in a dark closet, where they were safe from dust and moths. In this way they lasted a long time, sometimes until we quite outgrew them and the fashion was left far behind. This careful economy brought thrift and the old house, in due time, gave place to a new and better one. We were many years accumulating the materials for the new house. Logs were cut in the woods and drawn to the saw-mill in the neighborhood, already alluded to, and out of these were sawn boards and the smaller pieces o'f timber for various uses in the construction of the new house. The heavy timbers were cut and hewn in the woods. The pine lumber we went to Portage Falls to get, nine miles away. At last, after some years of gathering materials and other preparations, we were ready to raise the 'frame of the new house. The thing now in order was a "raising bee." All 32 AUTOBIOGRAPHY able-bodied men within the compass of a mile or two were invited to the bee. Great preparations were made for this grand occasion one of the most important in the life of a farmer. All the good things the housewife could devise were prepared in its honor. Cakes in great variety, the richest and the best that could be made, lemonade and other "soft drinks" were provided. The bee over, the finishing of the house went on, slowly very slowly. It was a long time before it was completed. My 'father was very particular to have everything well done, and the carpenter, a slow mortal at best, took his own time for it. The one thing about the house for which my father had the most care, was the chimney with the accompanying fireplace. In the old house was a liberal fireplace with its cranes and hooks and chains, and the new one must be built on a still more liberal and better plan. At the end what was his disappointment to find that the chimney smoked! This was a sore trial to my father. It had to be reconstructed and made to "draw." This new fireplace would hold, at a low estimate, an eighth of a cord of wood prepared for 'the purpose. This wood was piled up at the side of the fireplace ready for the morning fire. There was a "back log," and the "little back log" designed to go on the top of the big one. Then there was a fore stick, a log of no mean dimensions, and between this and the back logs was ample space for filling in with the small wood. When once fully afire, this pile made an astonishing blaze, with intense heat. The crane was strong and ample for holding the kettles, large and small, that were required 'for cooking and other EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 33 housekeeping pufposes. Generous provision was made for a brick oven in which to do the baking of the household. A smaller fireplace was arranged in the bedroom intended for my father and mother. I remember well when all these gave way to the modern stove. With this change came much of increased comfort and reduction of labor, but at the same time there was a loss that we all felt, and none more than my father and the chil- dren, who always enjoyed the bright, cheerful blazing fire. It is true that in cold weather we found it difficult to warm more than one side at a time: but what of that? we could readily change sides, and there was a pleasant glow of warmth from the open fire that the stove never gives. How- ever, considerations of economy and labor-saving prevailed, and the old-'fashioned fireplace and brick oven had to be sacrificed for the introduction of more modern methods in heating and baking. Before the advent of the stove and range, we used as a partial substitute for the old brick oven, a tin oven, a sort of reflector that was placed before the open fireplace, in which were set the loaves of bread or pies to be baked. It was so constructed with flaring sides and top, as to catch the rays of heat and concentrate them on the contents of the oven. This was a sort of connecting link between the brick oven and the stove, and as such served a very good purpose. Then came in, too, the open Franklin stove, which was placed in the parlor, a room only used on state occa- sions. It was, indeed, a very meager substitute for the fireplace as its capacity for wood was scarcely one-tenth that o'f the latter. It gave, however, an open fire, and in this way reminded one of by-gones. 34 AUTOBIOGRAPHY Under the whole house was a superb cellar. That was the place where the vegetables, fruits, meats, and other necessary supplies for the household were stored. This was always well filled, and it was a sight well calculated to make a farmer quite contented, to go into the cellar after the apples, potatoes, and other vegetables were stored away for winter use. There was the cider barrel, the vinegar barrel, the pork barrel, the beef barrel, the barrel of apple sauce, the great bins filled to overflowing with such apples as are seldom seen now-a-days, in every variety, and the great potato bin with its ample store. I have rarely seen such a sight as my father's cellar presented in those halcyon days. All this greatly added to our comfort and convenience, and my father and mother lived many years to enjoy these hard-earned enlargements. My mother was an excellent cook, made all our butter and cheese, with some to spare for the market, to be ex- changed 'for groceries or other household necessities. She also made soap, spun and wove the linen cloth for the bags, towels, and much of the summer wear o'f the household, besides many of the woolen garments worn by the children and other members of the household. Some of these gar- ments, both in linen and in wool, constituted an important item of the outfit of the boy when he went to college. She looked after the wardrobe of the family, washing, ironing, mending the clothing, and darning the stockings. All this our mother did with occasional outside help, added to what assistance was rendered by my sister, who was never well or strong. Mother was always the last in the house to retire, and much of her needle-work was done EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 35 while we were in bed. To us, she seemed a remarkable woman one in a thousand. I have yet to see a better ordered, better kept, better fed, and, as a whole, more de- sirable domestic household than that over which my mother and father presided. CHAPTER VII THE RELIGIOUS LIFE OF THE BOY ON THE FARM MY FATHER and mother were Calvinists of the New Eng- land type. Next to the Bible, my father placed Dr. Em- mons' sermons, a complete set of whose works he presented to each of his children. He usually read one of these ser- mons aloud to the assembled family every Sabbath after- noon. Dr. Spring of New York, and Dr. Weeks were also among his favorite teachers. He firmly believed and stoutly advocated their doctrines, and rejected everything that did not agree with them. Naturally enough, the children, with their confidence and respect for their parents, never ques- tioned the points held by them. The sovereignity of God, His immutable decrees, His foreknowledge, foreordination and election, the necessity of faith in Christ, repentance, and sanctification, to salvation, formed the meat on which we were fed. Rightly inter- preted and understood, I doubt whether there is any escape from the conclusions to which these doctrines led. At any rate, such was our faith, and having been so trained, it never ceases to influence our minds and our lives. Believing as I did the necessity for regeneration, or change o'f heart, for salvation, I longed for the experience indicative of such a change. We always went to church regularly, never omitting any church service, fair weather 36 37 or stormy. I gave such respectful attention to the sermon and other services as a boy could give. I honestly desired to be rightly affected by them, and although I realized little impression made upon my mind or heart by all that minister said, out of respect to him I kept my eyes fixed on him, so far as I was able to keep awake ; and I distinctly remember at least one occasion when I thought I ought to be deeply affected, even to tears, but was not. I did what I could to give the minister the impression that I was so affected, by wetting my fingers in my mouth, and with them my eyes, thinking in this way to give the appearance of tears. It was not until many years later, when quite a well- grown youth, that I thought any real change of heart came to me. It was then that new emotions came into my soul. I felt as I had not felt before. A spiritual element entered into my life which I had not previously realized. Even the external world, itself, put on a coloring that I had not seen before. I saw myself in a new light. My heart was filled with joy and rejoicing. What I had so long desired had come to me. I now realized myself a Christian. It was not, however, considered safe to admit a new convert into the church until sufficient time had been given in which to test the genuineness of the conversion. In due time, after a year or so, in 1840, when I was seventeen years of age, I was received into the Congregational Church at Ferry Center. From this time on, I read many religious books of a highly spiritual order books that were well calculated to search the heart and test the genuineness of the spiritual life. Measured by these tests, I felt that I had not the proper evidence of a change of heart, and that I had no right 38 AUTOBIOGRAPHY to a membership in the church of Christ, and asked to have my name stricken from the church roll. I was informed by the pastor that this could not be done so long as there was no outward act that made me liable to discipline. As I had no inclination to commit such acts, no alternative was left me but to let the whole matter rest as it was, and I con- tinued a member in good fellowship. At home we always had family prayers in the morning immediately a'fter breakfast, and on Sabbath afternoons before sunset. With us, in accordance with New England custom, the Sabbath began with the going down of the sun on Saturday night and ended with its setting on Sunday night. Before sunset on Saturday night, all the farm work was la-id aside; the milking of the cows, the care of the stock, and all chores were "done up," and when the sun was down we were all supposed to be quiet in the house, and religious reading of some sort was in order. No whistling or secular songs, or light or trifling conversation were al- lowed between the two setting suns. I well remember as a small boy, how I used to go out and watch the last ray of the setting sun as it disappeared below the horizon on Sabbath night. I was then set free to play as much as I pleased. This was the night of the week for social gath- erings and the frolics of the children. This custom held sway for many years after I le'ft home and had a family of my own. Brought up in such a home, it is not a matter of wonder that the old man thus trained as a boy, is not given to Sun- day parties, Sunday dinners, Sunday riding, or secular oc- cupations of any kind. The old proverb, "Train up a child EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 39 in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it," has proven true in my case at least. At three score years and ten and three more, I find myself in- clined to the beliefs and practices in which I was trained. CHAPTER VIII PREPARING FOR COLLEGE THUS far I have endeavored to give an account of what came to me as a boy on the farm. At the turning point between youth and young manhood, a circumstance occurred that changed the plans of my whole life, and turned all my ambitions into an entirely new channel. When I was seventeen, Mr. Charles Huntington, just out of college, came to Perry Center and opened a private school. Into this school were gathered most o'f the young men and women of the town in the immediate vicinity. Here for the first time I became interested in books, and began to study. Mr. Huntington had the power to arouse enthusiasm in his pupils, and he it was who first waked me up and aroused in me new aspirations. I found new acquaintances, and among them was John D. Higgins, whose mother resided at Perry Village, two miles away. The inspiration of the teach- ers had given to him also, as well as to many another boy in this school, new life and ambition. He became a fre- quent visitor at our house, and one day, as we were coming down the street talking over our life plans, we mutually agreed that an education was the thing 'for which we ought to strive; and we then and there resolved that we would bend our efforts in this direction, and get such an education as a college would give us. Stopping in the middle of the 40 EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 41 road, we shook hands over this resolution ,and from this purpose we never swerved. Up to this time I had detested both books and the school, and as a consequence I had no intellectual equipment. My father had always urged me to go to school, and I had as persistently urged to be allowed to stay at home and work on the farm. All at once my father's and my ideas were reversed. I had now come to an age when I could make myself very useful on the 'farm, and my father desired my services, and wanted to make a farmer of me. My younger brother, I was told by the farm hands, was destined to be a scholar and a doctor, and I a farmer; an arrangement, as I now look back upon it, very natural for my parents to make, for my brother had shown much more taste and aptitude for books than I, while I had shown more skill and interest in farming. So now my father wanted me to stay at home on the farm just when I wanted to go to school. I had become so thoroughly in earnest in my desire for an education that, being naturally headstrong and persist- ent, I set about it with a full determination to accomplish it. 'A man living two or three miles 'from our house, who some- times did work for my father, had a Latin grammar and dictionary, which he offered to lend me. This offer I eagerly accepted, lost no time in going for them, and began the study of Latin in earnest. Seeing that my purpose was fully set in this direction, and accepting the advice of my teacher, my father no longer objected or put obstacles in my way, but, on the contrary, gave me every possible aid in his power. My elementary education had been wholly neglected, and I had much to do in repairing the loss that 42 AUTOBIOGRAPHY had just come to my comprehension; what my father had said so often, came true I was reaping the fruits of my early neglect, to my sorrow. "Brother John," as I now called my new friend, and I took a room together in the upper gable end of a shoeshop, where he had been learning his trade, and we settled down to earnest work in preparation for entering college. We were pretty well matched in taste and natural ability, and we worked together most harmoniously. So our academic life passed on in a very agreeable way. I slept at home, and he in the shop, except on the nights when he went home to stay with me. On going to school, I would fill my pockets with apples, and divide with "Brother John," and when he went home with me at night, we always paid a visit to the cellar, where we feasted on honey and apples. Our progress as students was not rapid, but we applied ourselves earnestly and patiently, and so got on fairly well. "Brother John's" talent was rather for writing, and mine for speaking. He occasionally wrote articles for country papers, and I attended all the debating societies, took an active part in the public exercises of the school, and espe- cially in all the exhibitions and dialogues, of which there were not a few. In this way, I got a little local reputation as an actor and speaker, which greatly flattered my pride and ambition, and I formed the resolution to prepare myself for the bar and public positions. My chum resolved to pur- chase a Webster's dictionary and give himself the task of learning the orthography and meaning of every word, from beginning to end, the better to serve his purpose as a writer. We have both lived long enough to be amused at our reso- lutions and realize their 'folly. Like many another youth- EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 43 ful ambition, they were soon left behind. Of the two, my chum's undertaking was the more herculean, and sooner found its end. My tenacity led me to hold on to my ambi- tion until circumstances quite beyond my control cut off all my plans. These were not the only resolutions that were formed by one or the other, or both, that met with an untimely end. One time "Brother John" resolved that he would not be bothered with a razor all his life, and providing himself with a pair of tweezers, began to pull out every hair by the roots as fast as it appeared on his face. I cannot say how long he persevered in his undertaking, but I imagine about as long as in his resolution to devour Webster's Unabridged Dictionary. Early one summer we resolved to introduce a new style in the cut of coats. We were both to buy the same material and have full summer suits just alike in every respect. The coats were cutaways, just such as are now worn. I have never thought we introduced this fashion, but with us it was certainly original, for we had never seen such a gar- ment, and no one had suggested the idea to us. I had my suit made according to agreement, and came sailing up the aisle of the academy one Monday morning, greatly amusing both pupils and teachers. I shall never forget how com- pletely I demoralized the dignity of Mr. Huntington, when his eye first caught sight of me. But I was not to be laughed out of what seemed to me a sensible idea, and went on wearing the cutaway until it was worn out. When John saw how our idea took, his heart failed him, and he never appeared in his suit. In other words, he broke 44 AUTOBIOGRAPHY the contract, and I had to live down the ridicule single- handed. It was not, however, characteristic of my chum to break his agreements, and especially in more important matters. It is a rare individual who can breast public sentiment in matters of fashion and dress. This was more than my chum was competent to undertake, and very likely had he been the one first to appear in this new costume, I should have hesitated to follow, but once having committed myself, I was the last one to retreat. I had too much pride and spunk for this. Stubborness was characteristic of me as a boy, a trait that never entirely left me. It was about this time that we formed our resolution to go through college together, a pledge from which, as I have said, we never wavered, although circumstances quite beyond my control prevented the full completion of my course. From this time on, everything was made to bend to the accomplishment of our purpose. John helped to carry himself through his preparatory course by work at the shoemaker's bench. The only assistance I was able to render him was to furnish him with all the apples he could eat, with which I always filled my pockets to overflowing every morning, and o'f which he always had a liberal share. I suppose that his family friends must have done for him more than I knew, for I can hardly conceive that his expenses were fully provided for by the work he did at his trade, or by the proceeds of a singing school he occa- sionally taught. As for myself, I lived at home and was there provided with necessary clothing and books. During a short period of this preparatory course, I occu- pied the office of our town physician, Dr. Ward, as a place EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 45 of study during the day, with my cousin, Stewart Sheldon, who had also decided to prepare for college. This physi- cian was a man of no ordinary character. He was the only doctor in our part of the town and was known 'far and near. He had the confidence and respect of everybody, and left the impress of his strong character upon the church and people generally. I shall never forget the shock that was felt in the assembled congregation one Sabbath morn- ing, when his death was announced. Everybody in that congregation was a personal friend and a mourner. Although in some ways odd and peculiar, both in manner and ideas, he had a warm heart and tender affections. I came very near this man, and he had an important influ- ence on my life and character. The man, however, who had the most to do with my life, was my teacher, C. A. Huntington. I may truthfully say that he made me what I proved to be and to him I owe a debt of gratitude I shall never be able fully to express. But for him I should have died on the farm, unlettered, and my influence would have been greatly circumscribed. What was true in my case was also true of many another Perry boy, who, through his influence, went out into the broad world to make himself felt in a large way. CHAPTER IX INTRODUCTION TO COLLEGE LIFE! COLLEGE ASSOCIATIONS: 1844 IT WAS in the autumn of 1844 that four of these boys left- together for Hamilton College, with such meager prepara- tion as we had been able to make in four short years.- I can say for myself that my elementary English education was pretty much left out, and judging from the answers given by some of my comrades at our entrance examina- tion, in President North's house, I would infer that the same thing was true of them. I recall one of these questions and answers. The President asked one of my associates to locate the river Nile. This he readily did, but in a very different quarter 'from that in which the Creator placed it, for he put it somewhere in South America. Whether all our answers were as wide of the mark or not, I will not at this distance of time undertake to say, but my presump- tion is that it was not altogether an exceptional case. I am of the opinion that the decision to admit us was made before the examination, and that our failure or suc- cess in answering questions had very little to do with our acceptance. At any rate, we four Perry boys, John D. Hig- gins, Stewart Sheldon, Henry Butler, and myself, were admitted in spite of our poor preparation. Three of us were cousins, and John, as I have said, I called brother. This going to college was a great event in ou^ lives. It 46 EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 47 was much more so to boys in that day than it is now, and more to us and our immediate families than to many others. I started out with the ambitious intention of spending four years in college and three years in a law school. This to my boyish mind seemed a long, long time, and I so expressed myself to my good minister whose reply I well remember. He said, "Take your knapsack and go ahead ; and when, at the end o'f your course, you look back, it will seem shorter to you than it does now." Although I never reached the end of the course I had laid out for myself, I went far enough to make it evident to me that the minister was right. I have always found the prospective end farther away than the retrospective beginning. That day of departure from the dear old home and its loved ones brought to me a strange mixture of emotions. My father had asked the minister to be present at the time of my leaving, and had selected the thirty-third chapter of Exodus to be read, probably having in mind the sentiment contained in the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth verses. After the final meal had been taken, all were gathered round the 'family altar ; the minister read the chosen chapter, and led in prayer. It was an impressive occasion, never to be forgotten. I have always regarded this as an epoch in my life. No other event of my life so thoroughly stirred all that was in me. The scenes and activities that I was leaving behind, and those that lay before me, into which I was about to enter, were well calculated to awaken emotion of no ordinary character. The large, square trunk, that had been made for this purpose, was filled to its utmost capacity with such wear- 48 AUTOBIOGRAPHY ing apparel as had been prepared largely by my mother, some of these garments being spun and woven by her own hands; together with such other articles of convenience and comfort as loving hearts could devise and anticipate. As the last loving kisses were being given and good-byes said, my father moved off to the wagon that stood waiting for me, followed the team along to the gate, that he might be the last, as it would seem, to press the hand and say good- bye. That last warm pressure of the hand and the tears that trickled down the furrowed cheeks are as 'fresh in my memory as though it were but yesterday. The wagon moved on, and a few last, lingering glances left the old home out of sight. I was not on my way to a railroad station, but to Cuyler- ville, six miles away, where the boats on the Genesee Valley canal stopped to take on freight and passengers. At Roches- ter this canal intersected the Erie canal. At Cuylerville I was met by Brother John and my cousins. This was our first ride on any public conveyance. To have gone by rail would have been possible, but for the expense. The packet boat was much cheaper, and our lim- ited means made it necessary to economize at every point. We had good company, for the packet boats were patronized by very many people who had more money than we, and who were well conditioned in life. Everything was new and interesting to us boys ; the canal with its locks, the boat with its crew, the villages and cities through which we passed. We were probably about twenty- four hours in reaching Oneida, a small village near Syracuse, where we landed, and took stage across the country to College Hill. At Oneida we were met by a very nice, polite, and oblig- EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 49 ing student named Willoughby. So obliging was he that he came on purpose to meet us, show us the way to the college, help us to select a room and a boarding-place, and to intro- duce us to the president and other members of the faculty, and to various students we happened to meet, especially to those who belonged to a particular literary society, which he very kindly advised us to join, for very good reasons, which he made plain to us. Not until we had been in college some time, were we able to divine the possible motive that led this young man to give us such marked attention, valuable assistance, and good advice. We joined his society, of course, and to him this was doubtless full compensation for all his trouble. Both parties were very well satisfied; he had a motive that was gratified, and we were benefited by the result. We were located in "North College, South Hall, first floor back middle." Off the main room was a bedroom with a double bed; our rooms were taken care of by the college janitor, a jolly Irishman by the name of "Terry." His official title was "Professor of Dust and Ashes." His duty was to make the beds, sweep the rooms, and remove the ashes. He was inclined to be funny, was always good- natured, and, as a rule, the boys were a match for him. Brother John was strongly inclined to stick to the bed until quite late in the morning, so one bed sometimes went unmade for many days in succession. He was usually able to persuade Terry to let him alone, and have his sleep out. On one occasion, however, the bed had got into so bad a condition that it could be neglected no longer, and the "Professor" gave Brother John warning that the next morning, if he found him in bed when he came around, he 50 AUTOBIOGRAPHY would pull him out. The next morning he found, as he supposed, Brother John in bed. He grabbed for him, when behold, he found in his hand an image, instead of the real person he had thought to lay hold of. At the same moment Brother John sprang out from behind the bedroom door, where he lay secreted, caught Terry by the heels and threw him into the bed. Terry took it in good part as a smart joke, but gave the perpetrator notice that he must not play the "likes" on him again. The next morning, as he came around, he looked cautiously into the room, and having scanned the bed and 'found it empty, looked suspiciously behind the door, where to his great delight he discovered what he supposed to be Brother John secreted in the dark corner behind the door. The bedrooms had no windows, but were lighted only by the door from the study-room. Here again he mistook the image for the reality, and tri- umphantly grabbed it, greatly to his chagrin. Having been outwitted by Brother John on these two occasions, he gave up all thought of playing any more tricks on him, and Brother John thereafter had his morning naps to his heart's content. When the bed got into such bad condition that one-half of it oozed but at the foot, he would give Terry a chance to make it up. In one way, and one only, as I remember, John and I did not make very well-mated chums. He retired late and rose late in the morning, while I retired regularly at nine o'clock and rose invariably at four. My first exercise in tke morning was to take a shower bath. This was done with no regard to the weather. Many a time have I broken the ice in the pail that held the water for the bath, with my heel, poured the contents into the box over my head, and EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 51 pulled the string that discharged them over my head and body. It may seem like heroic treatment, but I survived it. During the winter months, I often spent an hour sawing wood out of doors, for which the college paid me fi'fty cents a cord. The pay was small, but it was something to a poor boy, and gave me healthful exercise, which paid better. We lived in a very economical way, as our limited means required. We boarded at Mrs. Quinn's, a short distance from the college, where we paid a dollar a week for board. The food was plain, but wholesome, and we did not suffer. For the rent of the room, I gave my notes or my father's, I really forget which. These notes were paid long after leaving college. As a rule, we purchased second-hand books, and with my clothing and bedding furnished from home, I managed to get on in a very inexpensive way. I had not been in college long, before I was invited to become a member of the Alpha Delta Phi Society. This I felt to be a great compliment. This society was composed o'f the most scholarly and best elements in the college, and I did not hesitate to accept the honor proffered me. The plan adopted at the time of the organization of the society was, not to select members during the first two years in col- lege, or until they had been proven and known by the society. As there were rival societies, however, they sometimes took men earlier, to avoid the risk of losing them to other fra- ternities. Such selections were sub rosa, and the persons so selected were not allowed to wear the pin or "swing out," as it was called, until the Sophomore year. Not being known as an "Alpha Delta Phi," another soci- ety courted my membership. In this way, being often seen in the society of some of the leading members, a doubt was 52 AUTOBIOGRAPHY pretty effectively thrown over the minds of my comrades, as to my true society relations. This effort to cover my true relation to the Greek letter societies I have never ceased to regret. Little things were done, more or less deceptive in their character, which were not consistent with my ideals of manhood. The act that has caused me more regret than any other, was the separation from my chum, my dearest 'friend on earth. It was not consistent with the idea of secrecy that I should room with one who was not a mem- ber of the same fraternity. It was therefore arranged that I should leave Brother John and room with a brother of Professor North, who was an Alpha Delta Phi. To this I consented, an act for which I can never forgive myself. Not that my new chum was in any way disagreeable or in any way unworthy of my companionship, for, on the con- trary, he was a most delightful companion, a highly respect- able and worthy young man, the soul of integrity and uprightness, an exemplary Christian, and the leader of his class in scholarship; but to leave an old friend and tried friend for a new one, has always seemed to me one of the most dishonorable acts of my life, one which never ceases to awaken a feeling of shame and reproach every time it comes into my mind. Other acts growing out of this effort to keep up the idea in college that the Alpha Delta Phi Society did not choose its members before Sophomore year, were not so serious in their character, but at the same time were questionable as to their influence on me. It was regarded as a matter of the highest importance that my attendance on the meet- ings of the society should not be known ; otherwise the repu- tation of the society for carefulness in the selection of its EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 53 members might receive harm. To avoid any suspicion, in- stead of going straight to the place of meeting, I would start in a different direction, and by wandering round through the woods and cornfields, come to the place of meet- ing. This was a sort of deception, perhaps harmless, because no one other than myself was affected by it, but such methods were not up to my ideas of manhood. Nevertheless, my association with the members of this 'fraternity was of great value to me. I would not have lost the good that came to me through the close contact with the young men who composed this society, for any consid- eration. I value it above all other good I got out of my college life. They were strong men, possessed of high ideals and noble aspirations, and they brought into my life that which I never could get from the study of books. Among them were men who have taken high positions in the civil, religious, and literary world. I have always been proud of and thankful for their companionship. Early in my college course I discovered something about myself that, curiously enough, I had never known before. I noticed that I could not see work on the board that other members of my class seemed to see readily. This led me to the suspicion that I was near-sighted. When convinced that this was true, I lost no time in bringing to my aid a pair of glasses. It was in the early spring that I went to Utica, nine miles away, and provided myself with these helps to see. On returning to College Hill, I went to the fourth story of one of the college buildings, to look out upon the world which I had never really seen before. It was on a bright spring morning, just after a refreshing shower. The trees and the hills were delicately green with the new life 54 AUTOBIOGRAPHY of the season. From my point of observation I commanded a wide stretch of landscape. In the beautiful valley a mile below, lay the pretty village of Clinton, and beyond, stretch- ing away to the distant horizon, lay a range of high hills covered with the fresh verdure of spring. As I looked out on this grand sweep of landscape, I felt more like flying than anything else. As I beheld the world for the first time in the beauty of springtime, I was filled with an ecstasy of delight. I now realized as never before what a glorious world I lived in. From that time to this I have never been without my glasses, except that at first when returning to my Perry home, I would doff them and put them in my pocket to avoid possible remarks from my good country friends. I kept them in their hiding place at all times when likely to be observed, until I left the bounds of Perry neighbor- hood. This was doubtless a foolish pride, but one that a timid boy is very likely to feel. CHAPTER X COLLEGE LIFE THE scholastic work in college was almost exclusively of a bookish character and confined very largely to the lan- guages and mathematics. Very little was done in science, and that little was in Chemistry. It was pretty generally thought by the students that if we had our pictures taken by the professor of this department, paying for the same the sum of three dollars, we should be safe from rejection in this subject. For me this seemed the easiest and surest way out, and I had my picture taken. It was a daguerreo- type, the only mode of taking pictures at that day, and it was then quite new. This picture is well preserved to this day. How much this transaction had to do with my pass- ing out of Chemistry, no one will ever know, but of one thing I am certain, I got "out" of the subject without know- ing anything about it; and my case was not different from that of most students. Occasionally, one especially interested in the subject would offer his services to the professor and work in the laboratory with him, and so get something out of it. With all others it was of no service whatever to them. In the languages and mathematics we had good teachers, and thorough work was done. Work in the languages was confined mostly to the Latin and Greek. Very little was 55 56 AUTOBIOGRAPHY done in German and French. Under Processor Mandeville we had very good instruction in reading and elocution, although taught in a somewhat perfunctory manner. The professor dictated, and the class wrote out his dictations. His plan of work was original and philosophical. His anal- ysis of the English sentence and his method of punctuation was founded in nature, and for this reason has never been surpassed, in my judgment. It is unfortunate that it has not met with more general recognition and adoption. It may be regarded as somewhat stilted and complicated, but if the spirit of freedom were thrown into it, I think these objections would vanish. This was at the time when Professor Mandeville was bringing out his series of school readers. He was just negotiating with the Appletons to publish the series. He was invited by the publishers to go to New York with two or three of his students to meet a 'few distinguished gentle- men divines, lawyers, and other educated men to explain and illustrate his method of teaching reading as contained in his books. Another student and I were chosen to go with him on this mission. This was a grand opportunity for an unsophisticated, green boy to travel and see the greatest city on our continent. To us boys it was indeed a great occasion. It was in the month of June, and on a warm day, when we landed in New York. I had never before been in a great city, and very naturally was extremely interested in everything, all being so new to me. To my sorrow, I was tempted into tasting the great varieties of fruits and other goodies so abundantly displayed in the shops and at the street stands. As a natural consequence, I was con- EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 57 fined for a day at my hotel, to recover from the effects of my indulgence. After the first day I was domiciled at the home of Mr. Appleton. I was given a large, elegantly furnished room, such as I had never seen before. This was a new il'fe to me, and withal somewhat bewildering. I did not know how to act in my new conditions. So long as I was left alone in my room I could get along very well, but when I came to the beautifully appointed table with its various courses, its (to me) many new dishes and methods of serv- ing, I was put to my wit's end to know how to behave myself. I kept my eye out to see what others did, and then imitated them as well as I could. I well remember my first experience with the egg-cup. I observed that all put their eggs into the cup, broke the upper end and seasoned and ate the egg from its broken end. To me this seemed a somewhat difficult and delicate performance ; but as all did it with so much ease and grace, I resolved to risk the undertaking. Greatly to my delight and satisfaction, I made a success of it and came off, some- what to my surprise, without any mishap. This was my first appearance in elite society, and it afforded an admirable opportunity to learn many things. I do not remember about the finger-bowls. I think it must be that they did not appear on this occasion, otherwise I should have been saved a mortifying experience on a sub- sequent occasion, when at a crowded dinner table in a fine hotel in Philadelphia, curious to know what the appar- ently high-colored liquid was that was placed at our plates, and supposing it must be some delicious beverage, I put it to my lips to drink. I never after used a finger-bowl with- 58 AUTOBIOGRAPHY out being reminded of the embarrassment which taught me their use. The most trying hour, however, for a poor, timid country boy was yet to come the appearance before the committee of gentlemen selected by the publishers to test our ability to read and to explain the principles of good reading accord- ing to Professor Mandeville. This meeting was in the grand parlor of Mr. Appleton's home. I remember more distinctly than anything else how very small and utterly insignificant I seemed to myself in the presence of those august gentlemen. I think I must have nearly lost my head. I only remember that we read and were questioned, and I infer that we did our part to their entire satisfaction, inas- much as the Appletons bought the copyright of the Mande- ville readers, paying for the same, as I was told, five thou- sand dollars; more money, I am inclined to believe, than they ever realized out of their sale. They met with very sharp competition in books that were less philosophical, and so more easily used by teachers who did not care to spend their time studying up new theories and plans of work. Having accomplished the object of our mission, we started 'for home, embarking on one of the elegant Hudson River steamers. It was a bright, starry night, with a mild, soft air, most grateful to one who had been spending the day in a hot city. All the conditions were strongly inviting to sit on deck and enjoy the charming scenery of the Hud- son as it passed before us in panoramic view. The full moon shone out in its glory, lighting up the whole land- scape, giving it that soft, bewitching charm that the moon- light only can bestow. In the very midst of all this there came up a slight shower, and for the first and last time in EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 59 my life I saw a beautiful lunar rainbow. This was the crowning display of all the new and interesting sights I had seen on this trip. There is something about the atmosphere of college life that tends to put the spirit of mischief into the ordinary boy. One is likely to 'feel that he has not done his whole duty in college until he has played some trick. I was not wholly free from inspirations to this kind of fun, but my jokes were very few, simple, and harmless. Nobody was any the worse for them. Brother John was much more ingenious and successful than I. My associates were not, as a rule, given to college pranks. The only exception, so far as our fraternity was concerned, as I remember, was little Joe Avery, the son of Professor Avery. There had been a time-honored custom of "ringing off the rust" at the end of the freshman year that is, ring- ing the bell until the rope was worn out. To this custom, the faculty decided to put a stop with our class. This was regarded as bringing on our class everlasting shame and disgrace, a thing that must not be allowed. On the night when this finishing work of the class was to be performed, the faculty, having taken the precaution to bar all the ave- nues to the chapel, arranged themselves in full force about the door, to prevent any possibility of breaking in. In this crisis of affairs, the class gathered about the lightning rod. while Joe scaled it, entered the belfry, and rang the bell in the face of the faculty, and so saved the honor of the class. On the whole, however, during my stay in college, the discipline was wholesome, and no serious disturbances occurred. There was, as a matter of course, some hilarity, but very little of a scandalous nature. 60 AUTOBIOGRAPHY While I did not lead my class, an ambition that never took possession of me, I succeeded in attaining a fairly hon- orable position, and did not fail to secure some o'f the minor honors. I was appointed prize speaker and was placed on the Junior Exhibition list honors that proved my greatest misfortune. CHAPTER XI ABANDONMENT OF COLLEGE COURSE Nor long before the time of the prize contest, during my Sophomore year, while on a visit to Uncle Asa Austin's af McGrawville, I had an attack of pleurisy, brought on by inordinate laughing. Instead of returning to college, as was my expectation, I was obliged to hasten home, where I was confined some months by this somewhat serious attack. When I had so far recovered as to be able to return to college, being still weak from the effects of the attack, I went to the woods to practice in preparation for the exhibi- tion. This was too much for me in my enfeebled condi- tion, and it brought on a mild form of bronchitis. How- ever, I went through with the contest, so frightened by the vast audience before me that I could not tell when I left the stage whether I had said my piece or not. I disap- pointed both myself and my friends in that I failed to receive a prize. This failure of my voice was doomed to disap- point and discourage me in a way more serious than the loss of the prize. It eventuated in changing the plans I had laid out for myself. Although I went on with my work in col- lege, I did not fully recover from my sickness and difficulty with my throat. It was at this time that I became acquainted with Dr. Noyes, ex-professor of Chemistry. He had a fine garden 61 62 AUTOBIOGRAPHY and a small farm, and was much interested in horticulture. He had also a small private laboratory in which he spent much of his time. These interested me, and particularly the horticultural pursuits. Accordingly, I went to board with him 'for a short time. He gave me a plot of ground on which to plant various seeds and fruits, and I practically started a little nursery. This gave me out-of-door occupa- tion at my leisure hours, in the hope that it might prove beneficial to my health. It was doubtless helpful in keeping rne up, but my health was far from being permanently established. As the end of my Junior year approached, and before the time of the Junior contest, to which I had the honor" of an appointment, I decided, at the advice of my dear friend and teacher, Dr. Edward North, to accept the invitation extended me through the intercession of Dr. North, to spend the sum- mer of 1847 with the Downings, the far-famed horticultur- ists of Newburgh, N. Y. Dr. North was himself highly interested in horticulture, and had an acquaintance with the Downings. I had previously read their "Landscape Garden- ing," which had set me on fire with its artistic and poetic inspiration. I also knew something of their "Fruit and Fruit Trees of America." I was glad of this opportunity to gratify my taste in this direction, hoping that at the same time my health might be permanently benefited by it. The opportunity for getting a practical knowledge of horti- culture and of forming acquaintance with these men proved a very happy one. I became familiar with all lines of the nursery business by going out and working with the man. Mr. Charles Downing took me in as a member of his family, and treated me with the greatest kindness and con- EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 63 sideration. We became, in fact, intimate, lifelong friends. I always remember him with the greatest respect and deep- est affection. A. J. Downing was the writer, while Charles was the practical man. '/The Fruits and Fruit Trees of America" was the product of the practical knowledge of A. J., and after the sad death of his brother, he made all the revisions of the book. Charles was a very plain man, but full of good heart and good sense. With Mr. and Mrs. Downing I stayed on through the entire summer. I could not have had a more delightful home. The house was large and roomy, and located on the banks of the Hudson, in full sight of the Highlands. Early in the fall, Mr. J. W. P. Allen, a nurseryman 'from Oswego, came to Newburgh to purchase nursery stock, and he besought me to go to Oswego and take an interest with him in the nursery business which he had already estab- lished. To this proposition I felt inclined to give some attention, and my friend, Mr. Downing, seemed to encour- age me in it. The business was in the line of my tastes, my throat difficulty was still upon me and seemed effectually to discourage me from the execution of the plans with which I set out on entering college. The outdoor life and pleas- ant occupation that this business offered seemed favorable to the recovery of my health. Mr. Allen went to Perry to consult with my father and mother, and the decision was made to enter into partnership with Mr. Allen in his busi- ness, my father lending me five hundred dollars towards the venture. Abandoning my college and law-school plans, I went to Oswego in the fall of 1847 to enter upon my new enterprise. 64 AUTOBIOGRAPHY Edward A. Sheldon, to a Friend. Perry Centre, Aug. n, 1847. It is my nature to "hurry." I regret that it is so, but what is, can't be helped. I have always been told that I would "hurry myself through life and into the grave" ; and when I stop to reflect, I tremble at the danger. I don't know when I ... have seen the moment I was not in a hurry; or felt a restless desire to be doing, or do faster. I think, however, I shall be able to overcome this in some measure. ... I have written to Allen, giving him some encouragement, but not a decided answer. Our folks all seem to favor my going, though, as they say, they don't know much about it. ... I think I have weighed the matter well ; as well as I could had I years to decide in ; and I have about come to the conclusion that, taking all things into consideration, I had better accept. My greatest query has been whether I should sacrifice my education for money; and it is now with a great deal of reluctance that I can consent to give it up ; but if I go on, I 'fear I shall be able to do but little better than I have done for two or three terms past. I am convinced that close application to study is very injurious to me, and the physicians and my friends tell me I must not persist in it. I have thought, too, that I might devote as much time to study as will be good for me, and at the same time do the business of the nursery ; and I think perhaps I shall be able to make arrangement with George to take my place during the winter months, so that I can be with my class. I have written to Prof. North, making a full statement of the case and asking his advice altogether with some questions upon points of law and partnership. In a previ- ous letter to me, speaking of Oswego, Mr. Allen's nursery, etc., he says, "A connection with him (Mr. A.) would be very desirable. The location is undoubtedly one of the best EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 65 in the State." Cowles, an old graduate near there, has writ- ten to me to the same effect. This was the fore part of the season, when I first thought of making some arrangement with Mr. Allen. Professor then wrote to Allen, and I expect said something for me, but what I know not ; but one thing is certain; he has a great idea of a certain youngster of our acquaintance; I fear far greater than he will realize. Since I wrote you last I have received a letter from Mr. Fanning, President of Nashville College, Tenn., in answer to a letter I wrote him a short time since making some inquiries about the course of study, system of education, country, etc. He is desirous I should join them, and render him some assistance in their Horticultural department. They have connected with the college, a farm, garden, and nurs- ery, workshops, etc., and each student devotes three or four hours a day to some employment, to the avails of which they are entitled. They devote a good deal of attention to Chemis- try, Mineralogy, Geology, and Botany. All this appears very well, but there is room enough for improvement in our Northern system o'f education ; and I long to see it brought about. . . . CHAPTER XII BEGINNING LIFE IN OSWEGO I 1847: A BUSINESS VENTURE ON REACHING Oswego, I became a boarder in Mr. Allen's family, who then resided in the stone house on the corner of East Seventh and Mohawk Streets. We erected the first public greenhouse in Oswego on the corner of East Tenth and Utica Streets, where the nursery was located. In this family I had a fairly comfortable home, although Mr. Allen was not a good provider. He was emphatically a visionary man. He did not live in an everyday, practical world. He did not see things as ordinary men saw them. This characteristic manifested itself in all his business relations. During my first winter in Oswego, I made a few acquain- tances. Mrs. Allen had a niece living with her, a Miss Treadway, the daughter of an Episcopal clergyman, a bright, lively young woman. She had a match in her friend, Miss Elizabeth Ludlow, a daughter of Judge Ludlow. They were full of fun and frolic, and indulged this propensity very freely. My acquaintance with the Ludlow family became quite intimate, and a good deal of freedom of inter- course existed between us, as the following incident will illustrate : One winter evening, Miss Treadway and Elizabeth Lud- low took it into their heads to play a trick on me. I doubt- 66 EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 67 less gave them the impression of being a green country boy, not accustomed to city ways, who might be easily frightened. They dressed themselves up in very grotesque garbs, with masks on their faces, and thus attired, called me. They found me very cool, collected, and not at all disturbed, and I entered freely into conversation with them. Finding that I was not in the least disconcerted, they soon retired, and I proposed to Mrs. Allen that I would at once return the call, if she would loan me an old suit of clothes, an old hat, some flour, and a jug. She entered into my plans heartily, and I was soon on my way to the Ludlows in the garb of an old, drunken miller. I entered the side gate, ascended the back steps, uttering sounds appropriate to the character I had assumed. As good luck would have it, the old folks were all away 'from home, and the occupants at that time consisted of Judge Ludlow's children, Anna, Helen, Baldwin, and Elizabeth, and Miss Treadway. They were all young people, none of them children, and not likely to be harmed by a little fright. Elizabeth was doubtless the youngest of the company, and she was a young lady. Tak- ing me for a drunken tramp, as I had trusted they might, the entire crowd fled precipitately upstairs, leaving me in full possession of the parlors. Soon after, the windows upstairs flew open, and there was a wild cry for help. Bald- win, the only boy in the company, proposed to announce that they had a gun, and would shoot. But Anna, the oldest, with her characteristic conscientiousness, suggested that he should not say that he had a gun, as this would be telling a lie, but that he should talk about a gun. Having accomplished my object, I thought it best to retire before succor came. Returning to my boarding place, 68 AUTOBIOGRAPHY I doffed the old suit, and putting on my usual attire, I went over to the Ludlows, to see how matters were ending. Some passing friend had come in at their call for help, and finding no tramp, pacified their fears and got them all back to the parlors, where I found them still in a very agitated state of mind, discussing the intrusion of the tramp and their fortunate rescue from harm. They narrated to me the whole transaction with the greatest interest, and when they were all through, and I realized that I had gotten out of it all that I cared for, I gave them the true interpretation of the affair. The girl team took it as a good joke, and rather enjoyed the way they had been paid off for their call on me, but Anna was inclined to take it more seriously, and I thought she never quite forgave me for the fake. She had a horror of deception of any kind, and I have thought that she never quite trusted me after that as she did before. For me this was about the only fun of the season. My time was spent quietly at home and in attention to such business as my new occupation demanded. In the spring, some change o'f household plans made it necessary for me to find a new boarding-place, and I went to the Oswego Hotel to board and to room with my new friend, Cheney Ames. He had recently lost his wife, and he took me to his own room; and we became warm, lifelong friends. He rose to a position of wealth and influence, and proved himself of essential service to me in my future work. It very soon became evident to me that I had embarked in a sinking ship, that the firm was practically insolvent, and that the best thing for me was to get out of it as soon as practicable. The little money I had invested was quickly absorbed, and I could not hope to get it back again. Mr. EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 69 Allen, however, offered to give me a small block of city lots located in this part of the town, in lieu of my interest in the company. I decided to accept this as being the best thing I could do in the present exigency. It was a fortu- nate escape at any price, and I came out in the end without much i'f any loss, for I soon sold my lots, and thus by slow installments got my money back. I was once more free, and without any plans for life. I had no liking for idleness, and began to look around eagerly for some occupation. I sought for this in several different directions. Extracts from Diary of E. A. Sheldon, East Oswego, 1847. Sept. 8th. This day is an important period of my life. It is, as it were, the first starting-point of my life; at least, the birthday of my manhood. I have heretofore never known what it was to look after or provide for myself, and hence, I have been, as it were, care-free. To-day I have commenced business for myself. This day I assume the name of a partner in a firm, and its consequent cares and responsibilities. I am frank to confess that my ambition now is to gain an honorable reputation. I am resolved that in six years from this time, if my life and health are spared, no nursery in the State of New York shall surpass this of otws. . . . Sept. Qth. ist, Went to the greenhouse and worked at making out a list of ornamental trees, shrubs, and plants until noon. After dinner, went and saw Mr. McCarter, a mason, about completing the mason work of the green- house. 2nd, Worked at the catalogue. 3rd, Went over the river to see about purchasing a horse. After supper went again to see McCarter and Kline. Thus ends the second day of my new life. There is so much to be done, it really 70 AUTOBIOGRAPHY makes me feel wild. But Industry and Perseverance, they say, do wonders. Sept. loth. Went two or three miles to see a horse; returned and wrote a preface for a catalogue. After din- ner went down to the greenhouse and laid out a plan 'for an office. Gave a note of $30.00 for a horse ; harnessed him and went with Kline to cut some buds ; and then went to town and bought a harness. After supper went to see about purchasing a wagon and hiring masons. Sept. nth. Went to the greenhouse and back and pre- pared an advertisement for the "Horticulturist and Culti- vator." Went with a man from Jefferson Co. and showed him over the nursery. After dinner went with Allen about five miles out of town to a Mr. Worden's, a cultivator of fruit. Such a load of fruit I never saw. One little Bart- lett three inches and a half in diameter bore three bushels of the finest pears. Many of his apples too are very fine. I begin to think more of Oswego than ever. If as a general thing the fruit trees of Oswego can be made to bear such abundance of fine fruit as those of Worden, every rood of land ought to be covered with them. Sept. 1 3th. In the forenoon budded apricots on peach. This afternoon wrote an advertisement and two or three letters; helped Allen pack fruit for taking to the fair; and lastly chased the packet* some four miles. I do firmly believe that man was born an hour too late, for he seems always trying to catch up, but has never succeeded as yet. Sept. I4th. Went to market for Mrs. Allen, then to greenhouse, repaired stoneboat, went over the nursery in search of the best opportunity of getting stone. Came back and went down town to the harness shop ; and returned to Allen's and chopped wood till noon. After dinner' went down to greenhouse, and with Kline made out a list of fruits for catalogue. Returned and chopped wood till sup- per. This evening chatted and played backgammon. "The fast canal-boat. ED. EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 71 Sept. i6th. Before breakfast went to market and sawed some wood for Mrs. Allen. After breakfast went to the nursery and set the hands at work; and after that budded trees all day. Sept. 21 st. . . . Met at the table with some young- sters, collegians. Spent the evening with them. They enter- tained me by playing whist while I sat moping in the cor- ner. They expressed much surprise that I was a student and could not play whist. Nov. 1 2th. This forenoon stole somewhat of the Paddy's trade by way o'f ditching. . . . This evening went to con- sult with a lawyer about the nature of my security against Allen. . . . He thinks as I do, that things look rather dark. . . . Whether wilfully or not, I cannot tell, but the man has certainly deceived me in regard to the real value of the nursery stock and the income of the establishment. On the strength of what he said, I have involved myself in debt, from which I fear I shall not be able to extricate myself. All things combine to give me the blues. Dec. 3rd. ... A long interval has elapsed since I last opened my day-book. (Entries had been continued pretty regularly until Nov. ipth. Ed.) Most of this time I have been absent on business at my father's. ... A large portion of the time when here, I have the "blues" roundly. I find a heavy debt accumulated on my shoulders. "What shall I do?" is a question I cannot solve. ... I see my folly in attempting to do so heavy a business without some capital to start upon. ... I begin to think I must work or starve. Dec. 4th. ... I have the "blues" so that I can accom- plish but little or nothing. I am almost constantly brooding, over my condition, which unfits me for every duty. I must make an effort to shake it off, and content myself with doing the best circumstances will allow : angels could do no more. . 72 AUTOBIOGRAPHY Letter to His Sister. New York, Apr. 18, 1848. Dearest Sister, It is late at night, and the watchmen's clubs are sounding on the flagged pavements over which I have been treading all day, yes 'for the whole week past, until foot-sore and disheartened, I turn in to breathe out my heart feelings into the ear of those whom I know are ever ready to sympa- thize. I have just closed a letter to Frances, and my own loved sister and family must come next. . . . But you are anxious to know what brought me here, and what I am doing. I believe you have my history to Clin- ton. Since then it is short, but big with events. While at Clinton I received a letter from Prince, an extensive nurseryman at Flushing, L. I., eight or nine miles from the city, promising, or at least giving me the strongest kind of encouragement, that he would give me a situation as clerk in his nursery. I accordingly came, putting implicit confidence in what he told me. ... I reached Flushing a week ago last Friday. Prince was away from home, nor did he return until Saturday afternoon, when he gave me to understand that he had nothing for me to do. ... Oh! how can I describe, or how can you understand my feelings at this time ! Nothing but despondency and black despair seemed to hang over me. On Sabbath morning I lay tossing to and fro with fevered head and brain, with not a single ray of light or hope to cheer the present or the future. . . . Oh! wretched man that I was! and I cried "Who shall deliver me from the body o'f this death !" Then a thought flashed across my mind, that I was, and had been leaning too much upon an arm of flesh. I arose, fell upon my knees, determined to leave my case with God. I wrestled long and hard ; and blessed be God, he enabled me to prevail. I was now as happy as I was before wretched. I look upon that day as one of the most propitious periods of my life. My joy indeed unspeakable. It was like another regeneration. I believe, indeed, I was then enabled for EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 73 the first time fully to conquer my wicked, headstrong ambi- tion, and completely to overcome my attachment to the things of time and sense ; and make my duty to God second to noth- ing. I knew now no better than before how I was going to extricate myself from my present embarrassed situation ; but I put my trust in God, and I was happy. I knew he would provide a way for me. The particulars o'f how I got away, etc., I will tell you when I have more time. Suffice it to say I got back to New York. And here for a full week I have been chas- ing over these hard pavements in search of employment, until foot-sore and weary I am almost discouraged. . . . If I do not find a situation, I don't know but I had better find my way home if my labor can be turned to a good account there. How would it be ? Could enough more work be laid out, by way of planting corn, or sowing grain so as to make it an object or worth while for me to join hands with you this summer? ... I have ordered my lots at Oswego to be sold and have left the business with Mr. Talcott. I presume I can stay with Mr. Downing this sum- mer, and unless my aid can be turned to a good account at home, perhaps I had better do so. I tell you what it is, sister dear, I have learned some inval- uable lessons, though at rather a dear price. I know you have been very anxious to hear from me, but I have been in so unsettled a state, that I feared it would give you but little satisfaction ; and I hoped each morning that the night might give things a more decided character ; but each night has left me where the morning found me, and I felt that I must delay no longer. A 'few days ago I sat down and filled half a sheet for you, but everything was so indefinite I committed it to the flames. Remember me in most ten- der affection to the family and take a great deal of love to yourself from Your constant and devoted brother, EDWARD. CHAPTER XIII THE RAGGED SCHOOL: 1848-1849 DURING this period of suspense, it came into my mind to investigate the condition of the poorer classes in the city of Oswego. I accordingly invested five cents in a small blank book that I could carry in my pocket, decided upon the statistics I could gather, and began my rounds among the poorer tenements in the outskirts of the city. Among the items that interested me particularly was the educational status of the poor. Greatly to my surprise, I found fifteen hundred persons who could neither read nor write. As a country boy I had hardly known of such a person, and my astonishment may be well understood on finding such a degree of gross ignorance. To me it seemed like being in the midst o'f heathendom. Being deeply impressed by this state of things, I com- municated the facts I had ascertained to my friend, Mr. Ames and to another good friend, Douglass Smith, a fellow- boarder, and suggested that something be done for the edu- cation and care of these poor classes. They were in full sympathy with me, and we resolved at once to communicate the information I had gained to others and enlist their co-operation. This resulted in the call for a meeting of a few prominent, benevolent, active citizens to consider plans of operation. The first meeting was held Tuesday, Octo- 74 EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 75 her 31, 1848. The result was the organization, on Novem- ber 28, of the "Orphan and Free School Association." Extracts from a Letter to His Sister. Oswego, Nov. 23, 1848. A few Sabbaths after I came here, I visited a mission Sabbath school recently started here. I was surprised to find a large number of them, children eight and ten years old, who could not read their A, B, Cl As I passed through the streets that day and saw great numbers of ragged, pro- fane children romping the streets, having no idea of the sacredness of the day. my heart was pained within me, and I went to my room reflecting what might be done for these poor children. I told my chum, if I had the means, I should not hesitate what to do. I would open a school into which I would gather these children and teach them free. He said he thought the means might be raised. We then formed a resolution to make an effort ; laid a little plan ; made some estimates, got upon our knees and implored the blessing of God to give it success. We first introduced the subject in a public manner at a prayer meeting; there appointed committees to make fur- ther investigation. Since then we have had two or three meetings of the citizens generally. Christians are praying for it in private and public ; our ministers are all urging it from the pulpit ; several discourses have been based entirely on this subject. For the week past we have been circulating subscription lists ; have got six hundred dollars subscribed, and shall probably get three hundred or four hundred more. Next Tuesday night we meet to organize. We hope to be able to accommodate one hundred or one hun- dred and fifty scholars. Clothing will have to be furnished these children more or less, as well as books. An effort will be made to get as many as possible into good families. They are to be taught moral as well as mental precepts. Benevolence must search 76 AUTOBIOGRAPHY them out, visit the families from time to time, extend to them the hand of sympathy and affection, and teach them that they may become worthy citizens as well as others. There are hundreds of children in this city as ignorant and depraved as the children of India or China. Two or three missionaries might be constantly employed with profit here. I have really been led into this unpremeditatedly and unintentionally. I felt that something ought to be done here; and I knew it would not be done until some one should offer himself a sacrifice to the work and lead it on. Thus far I have succeeded better than I anticipated. Next Tuesday night we meet to organize. Something may come up to frustrate the whole plan, but at present it promises very well. The greatest difficulty I find is to get gentle- men or ladies to help me do the labor. That is all new busi- ness to them ; they want a good deal of training ; and they will get it if I have to do with them long. It is no dishonor to beg in a good cause. When this plan first suggested itself to me, I thought it was a new thing under the sun; but I have since learned that nearly the same thing was introduced into London a few years since; and that now some of their schools number over a thousand ; and it has gained popularity all over the continent ; so that government has recently made an appro- priation to them. Boston has also adopted something the same plan. They find it to be the only way to reach this class. At the same time these children are sought out for school, all orphan children of a tender age are to be picked up and provided for, thus paving the way as we trust for an Orphan Asylum. I sometimes tremble at the responsibility I am taking upon myself, for it is all new, entirely new business 'for me. I put my trust in God, who alone can give me wisdom to direct and strength to perform. It has opened a pretty effec- tual way for me to become acquainted with the people of Oswego, for old and young, high and taw, rich and poor, EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 77 have pretty well learned by this time who is the poor boy's friend. I wish I could take you with me a little while in my visitations among the poor, I could show you what you have only dreamed of before. The first article of the constitution indicates the objects of the association. Article i. "The object of this associa- tion shall be the intellectual and moral education and improvement of such poor and orphan children in this city as are not otherwise provided for in these respects." The movement enlisted the interest of all the churches, the clergymen, and the leading philanthropic gentlemen of the city, who gave the movement their hearty support. Funds were collected, sewing societies organized 'for the prepara- tion of clothing, second-hand garments of all kinds were solicited, rooms were rented for the school, schoolbooks pur- chased, and all necessary provisions made. The next thing in order was the employment of a teacher. I urged upon the committee the importance of taking this step at once. "Why," said Mrs. Fisher, one of the most influential, active persons on the committee, "I thought you were to be the teacher." "Oh, no," I said, "I cannot teach the school ; I never had any such idea. I never taught school in my life and do not know how to teach and, more than all, I have already made other arrangements." During the time that these movements were going on, I had arranged with the President of Auburn Theological Seminary to enter that institution as a student. My out- door life and activities, together with such medical aid as I had been able to secure, had so restored my health that I felt justified in taking this step. Mrs. Fisher replied, "If you are not going to teach this school, I will have nothing more to do with it." "Very well," I replied, "in that case I must teach the school." Judge Churchill, the secretary of the association, said, "What salary shall we pay you?" I answered after a moment's reflection, "It will cost me about $275.00 to live 78 AUTOBIOGRAPHY and that is all I ask." Judge Churchill answered, "We will make it an even amount and call it $300.00." Thus it was settled that I was to take charge of the new "ragged school," as it was dubbed. Nothing could ever have been 'farther from my thoughts than the idea of teach- ing school ; nothing for which I considered myself so poorly adapted. But the duty seemed to lie before me, and however much I might shrink from it, there seemed to me no alterna- tive. The enterprise must not fall through at this stage for want of a teacher, and as that duty now seemed to fall to my lot if we had a school at all, I would do the best I could. This seemed to me the strangest of all the fortunes of mine. This was not a plan of my own making, but something given me to do. I resolved to make the best of it and go ahead. Extracts from a Letter to His Sister. We shall probably have some thirty or 'forty orphans to take care of and I think we shall open an Orphan Asylum at once, though on a small, economical scale at first, of course. . . . This is the hardest community to work upon I ever saw or heard of. I have had to tug and toil through thick and thin, and almost drive them on to the work in order to get anything done ; and yet everyone seems to be surprised at the success which has attended that effort. If this does ulti- mately succeed, it is the first benevolent effort of any kind, I understand, that ever has succeeded here. The great game here is to make money. . . . Thus I found myself in the autumn of 1848 with one hundred twenty to one hundred thirty wild Irish and French boys and girls, in the basement of what was called the "Tabernacle," a building that stood on West Second Street, near Bridge Street, on the site of the present engine house. EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 79 Many of these children had never been inside a schoolroom, and knew no better how to behave as pupils than I did as teacher. This was a strange school, with a no less strange teacher. None such had ever been assembled in Oswego. It was a curiosity, and as such was visited by teachers and others. Mr. I. B'. Poucher, a graduate of the Normal School at Albany, who at the time had charge of a public school in the old Academy building, located on the site of the present High School, and who later became associated with me in my educational work, and so continues up to this date (December, 1896), relates some amusing stories of my methods as he saw them. One thing is surely true : if any principles of pedagogy were applied in this school, they were either intuitive or accidental. I had never read any theories of school teaching, and certainly had none of my own at the outset; at least, all my work was haphazard. About all I knew was that these children were poor, neg- lected, and ignorant, and needed sympathy and help; and these I certainly could give them. Of this I am also sure, I got their confidence and love. It was a usual sight on my way to school to have a large number of these poor children hanging on to the ends of my fingers and coat-tails, greatly to the amusement o'f the lookers-on. The order of the school was doubtless not up to the pro- fessional standard. It was not unusual to see two boys stand up for a fight in the presence of the school. But allowances are to be made for the character of the pupils, the inexpe- rience of the teacher, and the larger number children in attendance. There were children enough present to require the services of three or four teachers. I spent Saturdays in visiting parents at their homes, look- 8o AUTOBIOGRAPHY ing after their necessities, and supplying them as far as pos- sible. These Saturday visits were often the most tiresome work of the week. I used to return home from them com- pletely exhausted, such was the draft upon my sympathies in view o'f the squalid poverty and wretchedness I found in the homes of the helpless poor. Some things I could do for them, but there was much that I could not do. Some temporary relief could be given, but to lift them out of the low lives to which they had fallen seemed hopeless. The hardest experience that ever comes to us is to see wretched- ness that cannot be alleviated. The school and its attendant work went on prosperously. The Sunday School, the outside charitable work, the visita- tion from house to house, went on hand in hand with the day-school. Meanwhile, the winter of 1848-9 came and went. Extracts from the Diary of E. A. S. Oswego, Jan., 1849. Jan. 30. Opened the Orphan and Free School the I4th day of January, 1849, with 70 scholars. Have now on my list over 140. Had in regular daily attendance 120. Have this week in regular attendance but 90, and five or six of those are new ones. Jan. 31. Had ninety scholars. Two have returned, who had left. One little girl froze her cheeks. Two of the boys came today two miles, come to get warm; they cried piti- ously with the cold. They have for pants but poor, ragged, and very light and thin cloth. For a coat one has but tick- ing; and neither of them have vests. . . . Have not had to punish a child today. They begin to show signs of improvement. Feb. i. A windy uncomfortable morning. But few chil- EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 81 dren out to school. Dr. Baird called on me this morning, together with Dr. Condit. . . . Tonight in his lecture on England, while speaking of the "Ragged Schools" of Lon- don, referred to this school in the highest terms. . . . Found tonight by the wayside, a very ragged-looking boy ; stopped and called him to me ; inquired into his history, and he took me to his home; found in a small room of an old dilapidated building some seven or eight grown persons huddled around a stove, two beds, or rather frames on which the merest apology for straw beds were thrown ; the room was literally stowed full. . . . The father had just come over, expended all he had in coining over, and had not been able to find work since he arrived in America. Was anxious to have his boy go to school; would like to work to pay for some clothes. Feb. 2. Had between eighty and ninety scholars. They seem to grow more and more eager to learn. . . . Supplied a little boy by the name of Patrick Burke with shoes. Has been to school nearly a fortnight, next thing to barefoot; his clothes are also very poor. His mother has run away. His father is a poor miserable drunken stick, without money or a home. They go from one poor shanty to another, living on the charities of these poor people. He is a smart active boy, and needs a home very much. I hope to be able to procure one for him. . . . Feb. 3. . . . Joseph Perkins left school for want of pants and coat. He has two sisters . . . want dresses, petti- coats, shawls, and shoes. . . . Called at Mr. Blayes where I found three girls . . . who had left school for want of shoes. The girls are very interesting children. The mother said the children were so eager to attend school, that she made for them some cloth shoes which they wore to school until they were entirely worn out and they 'froze their feet ; and then they were obliged to stay at home ; and then the children cried to go even barefooted. Feb. 7. Today have commenced a little on the Lancas- 82 AUTOBIOGRAPHY trian plan ; made my scholars assistants. I put them the question whether they would become my assistants or whether I should hire an assistant ; they decided to assist me. I proposed to them to have several grades of scholarship, and the one who should make the best recitations should hear the most advanced class ; and the next the second, etc., etc., I have my fears about the working of the thing ; but it is impossible for me to do all the work. Tonight I was so tired I could hardly stand up or speak a loud word. . . . Feb. 8. Had ninety scholars ; seemed more unmanageable than ever; find it is wearing upon my health. . . . Feb. 9. A very tedious stormy day ; had notwithstanding seventy or eighty scholars; presume they 'found it more comfortable than at home. Two market baskets full of frag- ments left of a donation visit were sent in, which I distribu- ted among the children ; they seemed elated with it. Feb. 10. . . . Called on a poor widow by the name of McGuire. Here I found poverty in its most lank forms. The widow was but poorly clad hovering over a cold stove, industriously plying her needle. There were other families in the same tenement, but how many I know not. Their shanty was but little protection to them from the inclement season. There was not fire enough to make the least impres- sion on the snow which had drifted in the night before ; some of which they had used to bank up around the inside of the room. This widow has a boy and girl who have been at my school ; bright intelligent children. The boy had on one boot and one shoe; but the shoe was but little better than none at all. The girl came to my school a day or two, until she took cold for want of protection from the cold and was obliged to stop. She had now nearly recov- ered, and was about the room with nothing in the world on her feet and hardly enough clothing to cover her naked- ness. The boy has been for a day or two to the Catholic school. I asked her whether they would not clothe her children at the Catholic school ; and if so, I advised her to EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 83 send them to it. She said she would, and if they did not clothe them, she should send them to my school. . . . Afternoon. Saw a little boy running along the street without coat and barefoot with a jug under his arm. I immediately followed him; he entered a grog-shop into which I followed him. The keeper filled his jug with whiskey : remarking at the same time something about the little fellow's being barefooted. I uttered an expression of surprise as though I had not seen the boy before. The grog-keeper all at once expressed a great deal of sympathy for the boy, and says, "How great a charity it would be for some one to put some clothes on his back and shoes on his feet!" I thought, "How much better it would be for you not to sell this boy liquor, and thus save the money for him to buy shoes!" . . . Feb. 23. A very beautiful day. Had a large school. . . . The school has been unusually noisy today, seemed hard to keep them still. Tonight called at Mr. Hensey's ; seemed very much elated to see me. The little children saw me coming, and cried, "There comes the school master!" Mrs. H. came out to meet me and heartily seized and shook my hand. They urged me hard to take some tea and Johnny- cake; but I begged as hard to be excused. They are very poor and destitute. The father is partially deranged and the mother has the whole family of five or six to provide for. She is a very kind-hearted woman. . . . Feb. 28. One hundred scholars. Am completely exhausted. . . . Mar. 19. School continues small during these pleasant days. Find it much more difficult to keep them still in such weather than when less inviting. . . . Mar. 20. This morning had some trouble in school. A great lawless boy, nearly as large as myself, who has always caused me a great deal of trouble, after disobeying me and laughing me in the face, I struck him over the head with the rattan. Upon this he rose and showed fight ; I plied the rod 84 AUTOBIOGRAPHY the closer, and soon subdued him, and he cried like a baby. At noon, however, in the street, he was very saucy. Tonight went and saw his mother; found her a widow with a large family; and a poor man with his boy living upon her 'for which she received no compensation. Went to see the poor-master to see if something could not be done to pay her for keeping the poor man, but without success. For the boy I hope to be able to get a place. The poor widow, to show her gratitude to me for the interest I took in her, fitted me out with an umbrella, and asked me to take some punch or wine ; upon which I gave her a short temperance lecture. Mar. 27. Had no help today. Found a good deal to try my patience in school. Did not get through until six o'clock. Has been a cold raw day. March 28. Had a very pleasant school. This afternoon some general exercises and the girls sewed. Mrs. and Miss Fisher were in to assist in sewing. One unpleasant transaction was the only thing to mar the day. A surly boy had to be severely whipped ; never whipped so hard in my life. I finally succeeded in subduing him. CHAPTER XIV MARRIAGE: 1849 IN THE spring of 1849, on tne I 6th of May, occurred the most important event of my life that which had more to do with my success, my usefulness and happiness, than all other events combined. It was on this day that I added to my life that of Frances A. B. Stiles. Those who knew my circumstances, and who estimated my action from a material standpoint, doubtless considered that I was tempting Provi- dence, and condemned it as foolish and unwise. It was, however, the wisest and most provident act of my whole life. This partner of my life did more to mold my character and make me what I have been and am, than all the other circumstances of my life. She proved to be a helpmeet in the highest and best sense of that term, as well as in its common meaning. She brought into my life that which I so much needed the warm sympathy of a loving heart. She made for me all work light, every hardship a joy. It was for her I lived, moved, and had my being. The moral support she gave me, the intellectual stimulus, the help in all the everyday details of life, no one can ever know. I was indeed poor ; I had an income of only three hundred dollars a year, was already in debt 'for seven hundred dol- lars, for which my personal notes had been given, and it was natural that some should consider me strangely inconsider- 85 86 AUTOBIOGRAPHY ate. But they did not know of the boundless wealth she would bring into my life, without making me any the poorer in the things of this world. I have done many things in my lifetime that I have had occasion to regret, but this act I have always looked upon as one of the wisest and best. She did not bring to me earthly treasures, but that which was far better, a spiritual wealth that had no bounds. This was no sudden, rash, or childish act. We had known each other for many years. I formed her acquaintance in the days of my college life. She was for a time a teacher in Perry Center Academy, my Alma Mater, and through my sisters and others I had heard much of her admirable traits of character. Mrs. Skinner of Perry Center and Mrs. Pot- wine o'f La Grange were her aunts. On one of my visits home from college, I formed her acquaintance at Mr. Pot- wine's. From the first I felt irresistibly drawn to her. I immediately courted her companionship. She did not reject my approaches. She consented to further acquaintance and correspondence. An opportunity for . better acquaintance occurred very soon. At the same time of my return to college, on recov- ering from my attack of pleurisy in the spring of 1846, Mrs. Stiles and her daughter returned to their home in Syracuse. Fortunately, we both embarked on the same boat from Cuy- lerville. Another fortunate circumstance was the fact that it was one of the slow line-boats that moved sluggishly along and stopped at every town. Thus a short journey was made long, and an excellent oportunity was afforded for a good social time. At Clyde, we stopped to see the glass works, and, at other places, other objects of interest. We reached Syracuse early one morning, and I accompanied EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 87 her to her home on East Genesee Street, where I 'frequently saw her on subsequent occasions, and where our final engagement was consummated. It is a good instance of the dramatic juxtapositions of real life, that this, one of the chief joys, came to me at about the same time with one of the greatest disappointments in my experience my failure in the prize speech at the College "Exhibition." Both had a strong determining influence over my career, and both in the same direction. Our courtship was not conducted without some drawbacks. Our case proved that the "course of true love never did run smooth." It met with strong opposition on the part of Mrs. Stiles and her immediate friends, so that our opportunities for interview were few and brief. It was, in fact, mostly carried on by correspondence and in secret. My aunt lived at this time in Syracuse. This gave me a good excuse for spending my vacations here, and they were very generally improved. A little drawer in the hall in Mrs. Stiles' house was the depository o'f our secret epistles. She taught me to superscribe these missives, "Meine Herzen-Geliebte," a superscription that the mother was sure not to understand, should the letters be discovered. To this drawer I made daily pilgrimages to leave and receive our love missives. This opposition rather gave edge to our love and courtship, while it never caused her to swerve from her purpose. The day of our wedding was hastened by the change of my plans, and by the wise Providence that ordered my life better than I knew. Our wedding was a very simple one. We were united in marriage by the Rev. Dr. Adams in a small room at the Globe Hotel, in the presence of a few intimate friends and 88 AUTOBIOGRAPHY such relatives as resided in Syracuse. Our wedding trip was from Syracuse to Oswego. At this time I was boarding with the Rev. Mr. Judson, the pastor of what was then the Second Presbyterian Church, which subsequently organized into the present Congregational Church. His residence was in what was termed the "Stone Cottage." With its grounds, it occupied an entire block. The rooms were all large and airy, all on the first floor, and the outlook upon the town and the lake was not to be surpassed. The location was directly opposite and toward the lake from Mr. J. W. P. Allen's, my first Oswego home. It was bounded by Seventh and Eighth and Oneida and Mohawk Streets. The house was afterward destroyed by fire, and the block was sold out in city lots, and is now fully occupied by residences. I can never forget the anticipations of this wedding day. All the preparations 'for it were accompanied by an ecstasy of joy. But the realization far exceeded all that I could anticipate. Our new home was a delightful one. We had as fellow boarders Mr. and Mrs. B. Randall, a newly mar- ried couple, former friends of mine, and among our fast friends in ensuing years. A new and most joyous life was now opened to me. Being in full sympathy with me in my work, Mrs. Sheldon aided me in many ways. CHAPTER XV THE "OSWEGO SEMINARY": 1849-1851 and a DIGRESSION TO SYRACUSE: 1851-1853 MY MISSIONARY work, for such it was, was not altogether confined to the ragged school. During the summer months I occupied my Sundays in distributing religious papers and tracts to sailors and boatmen. I also visited the jail for a similar purpose and for religious conversation and instruction. Like many other philanthropic enterprises, an enthusiastic beginning finds, after a time, a waning. To this experi- ence our enterprise was not an exception. The effort to raise money to meet the various expenses of the school and the necessities of the poor, began to abate, and the general interest to cease. As I saw these tendencies, I urged upon the members of our committee the importance of making all the public schools of the city free. This met with a hearty response. Persons outside of the Orphan and Free School Board were consulted, and such was the evident sentiment in favor of such a movement, that we decided to call a pub- lic meeting to discuss this question. I took it upon myself to circulate the call for such a meeting, and to explain to individual citizens upon whom I called, the advantages of a free school system. All this occupied much time, covering many months. 89 90 AUTOBIOGRAPHY The public meeting was held in the old Supreme Court room, which then occupied the south end of what is now the City Hall, or D. L. & W. Hall, on the second floor. We had a good attendance of influential men of the city. A plan 'for the consolidation of the schools under a free school system was presented and discussed. For the most part the plan was well received. But one man, Thomas Bond, a politician, conceived some objections to the plan, and in a glowing speech appealed to the prejudices of the Catholics, by representing it as a Protestant movement to build up Protestant institutions, to be paid for by the Catholics. He was a very flowery, smooth-tongued speaker, and his speech acomplished his purpose. It aroused the united and strenuous opposition of the Catholics. Others fought it on the ground of expense. In the city were twelve school districts. Each district had its officers. The people saw that the proposed plan would dissolve these districts, and so take away from them the direct control of their schools. This became another source of opposition. However, at this meeting a decision was reached to appoint a committee to draw up a definite plan, draft a school law, and submit the same to a public meeting to be called at some time in the future, when the committee might be able to report. It has taken but a few words and a few moments to give a brief account of a movement that covered a year or two of time. Meanwhile, an opportunity came to me to take charge o'f a private school that was organized by a Miss Bloomfield, in what was the United States Hotel building, on the site of the present Normal School building. She was going to leave the school, and desired me to take it. The EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 91 prospect of making all the schools of the city free seemed a fair one, the interest in the ragged school had so far abated as to make it difficult to support it, and I decided to take the private school and enlarge its scope. It had been exclu- sively a girls' school. I resolved to add a boys' depart- ment, and wrote to Brother John to come and take this department. The arrangement was consummated, and the new school was opened. In this work, Mrs. Sheldon ren- dered valuable assistance, taking some of the classes. The school was fairly well patronized. We had a pleasant class of pupils, coming from the best families in Oswego. This movement, with other circumstances, seemed to make a change of boarding-place desirable. Mrs. Sheldon had been employed to sing in the Episcopal Church, located at that time on the southeast corner of the West Park. We had also united with the First Presbyterian Church, on the West Side, Dr. Condit being the pastor. The main part of the United States Hotel was at that time occupied as a boarding-house by a Mrs. Grant. The school occupied the west wing. We now took rooms in the west wing, and boarded with Mrs. Grant. It is said that this building was erected for a private residence, and that wings being added later, it was converted into a hotel. It was 'found to be too far removed from the center of business to succeed as a hotel, and so was occupied for schools, boarding-house, etc., as time went on. It was in this build- ing that our first child was born. With an increasing family came increasing expenses of living. Our school, like other institutions, proved itself liable to the law of periodicity. It began to diminish in num- bers, and consequently in income. It was hardly sufficient 92 AUTOBIOGRAPHY for the support of two families. At this time a vacancy occurred in the Superintendency of the public schools of Syracuse. The position was offered me, and I accepted. The salary was six hundred dollars, which was better than the income of the private school. The second year it was raised to seven hundred dollars, with fifty dollars travel- ing expenses additional, for visiting schools in other cities, with a view to improving those of Syracuse. Meantime, in Oswego, the agitation in regard to free schools was not abandoned. The movement had taken a strong hold o'f the interest of our leading citizens, and the effort to secure free schools was bound to go on. The night I left Oswego to take up my new position in Syracuse, a large meeting of the citizens was held in the old City Hall (now D. L. & W. Hall). The president of the board of education of Utica had been invited to address the meeting. It broke up, however, in a kind of row, and this terminated all public meetings on this subject. The spirit aroused by the speech of Mr. Bond at that first meeting, in which he arrayed the Catholics against the Protestants, had gone on fomenting until the entire Catholic population was opposed to the measure, regarding it as a Protestant movement. It was evident, as a result of this last public meeting, that if Oswego was to have a system of free schools, it must be secured in some other way than by popular gatherings. It must be accomplished in a more quiet way. This was in the spring of 1851. The 'following winter an effort was made to pass a bill through the legislature to organize a free school system in Oswego. For some reason it failed to become a law, but the following winter (1852-3), with Hon. D. C. Littlejohn in the Assembly and Hon. Robert C. Platt EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 93 in the Senate, both strong, able men, and friends of this new educational movement, the proposed bill became a law. It was, in truth, sprung on the people, as one might say, contrary to their will. Under this act the first board of education was organized May n, 1853, and quite unsolicited by me and greatly to my surprise, I was elected clerk or secretary as the office was termed, the salary to be eight hundred dollars, with prospect of an advance. A new and important question was now before me for settlement : Would I remain and carry on the work already begun in Syracuse, or would I drop this, and return to Oswego to organize the work I had set in motion before leaving that city? I had been in Syracuse two years, had succeeded in recon- ciling some antagonisms that had existed among the educa- tional forces of that cty, had accomplished something in the way of improving the classification and gradation of the schools, had put in operation a library system for the pub- lic and the schools, with a central library as a nucleus; I had published, in pamphlet form, the first annual report that had been issued, in which I set forth very fully the util- ity of a High School as a keystone to the existing system of public schools, by which means I had succeeded in awaken- ing a deep interest in this subject. I had done much to improve the buildings and grounds, had put into operation a system of evening schools. I had evidently gained the confidence and co-operation of the teachers, the Board, and the people, and every prospect seemed flattering for the carrying out of the improvements already planned. Syracuse was a more central, a more thriving, and a larger 94 AUTOBIOGRAPHY city than Oswego, and in these ways seemed a more promis- ing field of labor. In Syracuse I had formed some warm friendships both in the board and among the teachers. Such was more particularly the case with Mrs. Sheldon, who, though not born in Syracuse, was reared there 'from a child. We were then keeping house in her old homestead, and were fairly settled down in a pleasant home, with plenty of good friends about us. It was not, therefore, without many regrets that we thought of breaking away from these old associations and from the inviting prospects that lay before us there. On the other hand, I had formed a strong affection for Oswego, and some of its citizens in particular, a number of whom were in the Board. In Oswego I would have the advantage of organizing a system from the start, in accord- ance with my own views. This would be better than to try to patch up and reorganize one already established. I would have the pleasure o'f carrying out and perfecting plans I had already laid out for Oswego. To my mind, the latter considerations outweighed the former, and I accordingly decided to return to my first love. I resigned my position in Syracuse, and entered at once upon what proved to be my life-work in Oswego. CHAPTER XVI "A TRAITOR TO HIS COUNTRY" AT THE time of Mr. Sheldon's residence in Syracuse, anti-slavery / agitation was passing through one of its hottest phases, owing to the passage, in 1850, of the Fugitive Slave Law, and the attempts of the Government to execute it. Syracuse was one of the main strongholds of abolitionism. It was one of the chief stations of the "underground railway," by which escaping slaves were spirited away to Canada. In Syracuse, the eminent Unitarian divine, Samuel J. May, was preaching abolition of slavery, and actively aiding in the escape of slaves, as notably in the "rescue of Jerry." Mrs. Sheldon's father, Ezra Stiles, had taken a leading part in these enterprises, but was not now living. Of course the daughter and her husband were keenly interested in the cause. Two of their letters, dated 1851, show where they stood, and restore those times vividly to mind. ED. E, A. Sheldon to his brother George. Syracuse never saw such a time as last week afforded. And I could wish and pray that Sun, Moon, or Stars might never look upon another such scene. Our at- tention was first arrested by the tolling of 'four or five church bells. On inquiry we learned that one of our citi- zens, a colored man who had been residing here some two years, was arrested and claimed as a slave, by a man who boasted in open court that he was "of proud and noble blood" ! ! ! A great crowd gathered around the court room. This was about two o'clock in the afternoon; he was arrested about twelve M. They now began to talk about adjourning to a larger room, when the prisoner, bound hand and foot in irons!!! (this is a free country 95 96 AUTOBIOGRAPHY you know, though he was not yet proved guilty of having escaped from slavery), was seized and conveyed through the streets by the agitated crowd. They were followed by a body of police and other officers, and after a long and severe struggle he was retaken. It was on this occasion that I witnessed what I never expected to behold. As the throng rushed by my office I went into the streets to see what was going on. Soon a well-dressed, fine-looking man came running through the streets at full speed, crying at the highest pitch of his voice: "Stop that slave-catcher! stop that slave-catcher! " followed closely by an officer of JUSTICE (Gracious Heaven! is this American Justice?} who pounced upon his prey, as he fell over a pile of stones, like a ferocious beast of the forest. It proved to be a Mr. Gibbs, a highly respectable lawyer of Massachusetts, who was, or was sup- posed to be aiding the prisoner, for whom he was council. He was carried before Justice House, who released him without bail. This was but one part of the tragedy. Soon came a scene that made my blood curdle in my veins ; and made me ashamed of the land of my nativity; a country of which I have been taught to be proud. I saw this fugitive from, not justice, but injustice, dragged through the streets like a dog, every rag of clothes stripped from his back, hauled upon a cart like a dead carcase and driven away to a police office, for a mock trial. The bells that had begun to peal their merry rounds in joy for his escape, now again resumed their mournful notes. The crowd that now gathered around the police office was immense. Two or three speakers harangued them from the steps of the office, while deeds of brutal, heathenish dark- ness were being enacted within. It was a favorable time for this tragedy. A time, too, no doubt, that was agreed upon, and understood by Fill- more and his whole cabinet. For Webster, in his famous EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 97 speech here a short time since, said, in my hearing, and the hearing of thousands of our citizens, that we, that is, those who denounce and resist the Fugitive-Slave Law were "traitors! traitors! traitors!" That our action was nothing less than high treason! treason ! treason ! treason ! " That in spite of us "this Fugitive-Slave Law zvould be executed; and would be executed, too, at the next antislavery conven- tion held in Syracuse" ; and if we were not careful "a cer- tain other law would be executed also" ; referring to the law for high-treason. Well the time of the Prophet had come and his words must needs be fulfilled. A slave hound had been waiting at one of our principal hotels 'for this convention to sit. On the same day the County Fair was in town ; so that, we had here not only eminent strangers from abroad, but the best and most substantial citizens of the County. All were here to see the practical working of this abominable laiv. The crowd increased as the trial went on, until about half-past eight o'clock the excitement became so warm that an occasional brick-bat was hurled through the windows of the office, and by the heads of the officers, reminding them that it might be safe to adjourn till morning. Not much after this action, everything having been well organized and arranged, the outsiders, with a twelve-foot plank for a battering-ram, and axes, crowbars and pistols, instan- taneously broke through doors and windows, bars and bolts, exchanged two or three shots, broke one officer's arm twice (one who in his zeal had come down from Rochester to help defend and execute the laws of his country), who then broke a window out at full length and jumped at least sixteen feet on to the hard pavement, with a narrow escape of his life, and frightened the rest almost to death; who huddled into the corner of the room like so many sheep. The rescuers went through a second partition, took the prisoner and conveyed him away in triumph, while the welkin rang with the shouts of the delighted multitude. 98 AUTOBIOGRAPHY This tragedy has put to flight a large number of our colored brethren and among them one or two of our most talented and respectable citizens, one a clergyman. That southern gentleman of noble blood! has been arrested as a kidnapper, and has given bonds of one thousand dollars. It is rumored that fifty of our best and most re- spectable citizens will be arrested this week and tried 'for treason, the penalty of which is death. We expect that the worst part of the tragedy is yet to be enacted. Mrs. Sheldon to Sister Dorliska. We begin to find that we at the North have something to do with slavery, and this is shaking us some also. Considerable anxiety is felt here relative to the examinations going on to-day at Buffalo of our citizens who are charged with violating the laws of their land. Oh my country! where is thy shame? About three hundred witnesses have been summoned to appear. You can have no idea of the differences between reading of an arrest of a fugitive and actually witnessing it. Last week one day it was ascertained just before evening that kidnappers were in town and in quest of a female slave, a woman whom many of us knew as a really exemplary mother of a family of five children. Before twelve o'clock that night she and her children were placed beyond the reach of Southern chivalry, and every colored family in the city warned that hounds were in town. Notices that "kid- nappers are in town" were found posted at every turn by the next morning. It was a matter of great mystery to us how the Vigilance Committee obtained news so soon, but we were soon satisfied that the southern men had some traitors among those who are so zealous in aiding them. Syracuse will escape the odium of allowing a fugitive to be taken from her midst. It never can be done. Is this not a treasonable letter? CHAPTER XVII ORGANIZATION OF FREE SCHOOLS IN OSWEGO : 1853 Up to this time the schools of Oswego had been under the old district school rate-bill system, the same as the country schools. Each district had its own local officers, elected annually by the people of the district. In this way each district was a separate establishment by itself. There were twelve such districts in the city. The new law contemplated the consolidation of all these districts into one with a single governing board. I saw before me many inevitable breakers. The spring- ing of this new order of things upon the citizens without their knowledge or consent was extremely distasteful to them. The officers of the various districts did not relish giving up their books and accounts and their authority, how- ever brief. Mr. Fisher, an old friend, said to me as he met me on the walk the first day I returned to Oswego: "You have come to a hard place to build up schools. I have tried all my life to awaken some interest in school matters, but all to no purpose. It is of no use. You can do nothing." But this was the very thing I had come to do, and if I failed in this I had better not have come. I asked the board for time until September to mature my plans and make all necessary arrangements for open- ing the schools under the new act. To this, ready assent was gained, and I began in earnest to study the existing 99 ioo AUTOBIOGRAPHY conditions and the best methods of bringing the schools under the new order with as little friction as possible. In several districts I found a single teacher instructing all grades. In a few others, the work of instruction was divided 'between two teachers. With a single exception no school had more than two teachers. In two schools algebra was taught, but with these exceptions no branches above the common English were taught. In a few cases the teaching was good, in others poor, very poor. My plan was soon perfected. I decided to wipe out all present district boundaries and establish new ones on an entirely new plan, as follows : I arranged the city into twelve primary school districts, as nearly equal in num- ber of children as I could estimate. These schools should embrace the first three years of the child's school life, 'from five to seven, or practically that. I then divided the city again into four Junior School districts, which were to in- clude children in the fourth, fifth and sixth years of their school life, or from eight to ten years of age. I en- deavored to distribute the children of these ages around four schools as nearly equally as possible. I then ar- ranged for two Senior schools, one on each side o'f the river, providing a three years' course after the Junior schools, and including ages from eleven to thirteen. Where buildings were located conveniently for the ac- commodation of one or more of these groups, they were accordingly utilized. In the outskirts or sparsely popu- lated portions of the city, the small buildings, if con- venitently located, were occupied by primary groups alone. If any building was suitably located for a primary and a Junior group to be together, it was so utilized. Some- EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 101 times the plan arranged for a Junior group in a separate building, sometimes for a Senior group in the same way. In but one instance were all the groups found in a single building. The High school course was arranged 'for four years, embracing all the branches at present taught in the high schools of this State. This completed a continuous course of thirteen years. A definite course of study was marked out for each year, comprising an entire continuous course from the Primary school through the High school. The general plan is essentially the same as that now existing in the public schools of Oswego. The most difficult task that lay before me was the weeding out of poor teachers and getting good ones in their places. I knew very well that, however good my plans might be, without good teachers I could accomplish nothing. My board appreciated this as well as I, and expressed a willingness to allow me to select my own teachers. I knew, however, that there were members of the board who had personal friends among the teachers. They regarded these friends as the best of teachers and would stoutly resist any proposition to drop them out. I therefore said to the board : "We ought to require an examination of these teachers before they receive their appointments." To this they readily assented. I further proposed the plan, that at the time of the examination, each candidate for examination should draw a number from a hat, by which he should be recognized. This num- ber should be placed on a card with the name, put into an envelope and sealed. This number should be on all the papers containing answers. After the papers had all 102 AUTOBIOGRAPHY been examined, all parties whose standing should be above a certain fixed percentage would be eligible to appoint- ment, while none of the others would be. Not until the appointment by numbers had been reached should the en- velopes containing the numbers and names be opened. This all agreed was perfectly fair and equitable, and a resolution was passed by the board adopting the plan. When the examination came, I was sick and not able to be present, but when the announcement of the result was made in open board, there were many expressions of surprise and disappointment. Fortunately the board was composed of reasonable men. They had committed them- selves to the plan and could hardly go back on the action they had taken. A little patching up of two or three cases had to be done to quiet the disturbed waters. The result was that a few of the best teachers were retained and the incapables were set adrift. I took great care to select for each position the most capable teacher that the salary paid would command. I found already in the schools, two graduates of the Albany Normal School, Mr. I. B. Poucher and Miss L. E. An- drews. They were both superior teachers. So far as I could, I obtained other graduates from the same institu- tion. Some of my best teachers I brought with me from Syracuse. On the whole, my selections proved 'fortunate. I had a corps of good, tried teachers to start with. Of course the cry was raised against the importing of foreign teach- ers, rather than encouraging home talent. The same cry was raised against my own appointment. It is the same old story everywhere; I had heard it in Syracuse and have EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 103 heard it from that day to this. I sometimes think this kind of prejudice grows stronger as the years go on. I very much doubt whether a foreign teacher could be em- ployed in the Oswego schools of to-day. But I had a board that always stood by me and allowed me to select my own teachers without interference; and I always selected the best I could find, regardless of locality, or minor, or per- sonal considerations. If one thing more than another has contributed to my success, it has been my ability to select good teachers. Without them success is impossible. With them a superintendent may succeed against all odds. My plans were now all laid, a course of study decided upon, and the teachers employed. The old-fashioned and rickety school furniture had been replaced by the newest and most approved to be obtained, the buildings were re- novated and everything abqut them was made not only respectable, but inviting. I had the entire plan, including the course of study, the boundaries o'f the different districts, the character of the grouping, all published in detail in the daily papers, ex- plaining everything as clearly as possible. I called my teachers together and gave them careful instructions how to proceed, I charged them not to be too tenacious about qualification, saying, "So far as practicable, accept the children as they come, and leave the adjustment of minor matters to the future. Let us avoid friction as far as possible." CHAPTER XVIII THE WORK AND RESULTS OF THE FIRST YEAR THE first day of school under the "new system" was the strangest one ever experienced by either parents or children connected with the public schools of Oswego. Families were separated, some members going one way to a Primary school, others a different way to a Junior school ; and others still to a Senior or the High school. As might well be imagined, the confusion was complete. I went as rapidly as possible from one point to another, helping to bring order out of confusion. The day went quite as well as could have been expected. At least the beginning had been made. The very complexity of the arrangement in one way seemed to have a good effect. The curiosity of the people was aroused to know what would come of it. It was something that attracted their attention and aroused their interest. The machine was now running in all its parts, and I venture the assertion that a more perfect piece of educational machinery was never constructed. All that was necessary now was to make some adjustments, re- move some causes of friction, and provide the necessary adjuncts. The several local district libraries were ordered sent to my office, then on Water Street, on the first floor of the City Hall building (now D. L. & W.), and out of 104 FIRST NORMAL SCHOOL BUILDING. [The Old United States Hotel.] EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON . 105 this miscellaneous mass one central library had to be or- ganized. With such assistance as Mrs. Sheldon could give me, this work was done with my own hands, and to my duties as secretary of the board were added those of city librarian. I opened a set of double entry books. I examined and certified to all bills, kept all the accounts of the board, and annually made a detailed report of all the doings of the board and the schools. This report was always published in pamphlet form, files of which have been kept and bound together for the city and Normal school libraries, and a few for private use. These various duties kept me fully occupied. At this stage of progress in the organization of the schools, I felt it incumbent on me to be everywhere and to keep things moving as smoothly and harmoniously as possible. If I heard of any disaffected parties, I went to their homes and talked matters over, and rarely failed to bring about a re- conciliation. If it became necessary to make any important change in the location of children at school, I would visit the parents and so pave the way for the change. By dint of the greatest care and diligence we succeeded in getting through the year without going to pieces, and came out with an improved organization and on a good footing, as the children were now in their proper places. However, we did not have altogether smooth sailing. Much opposition manifested itself, and it was said that a petition signed by eight tmndred citizens was sent to Albany asking for the repeal of the law; but this was the last serious effort made agaiast the "new system." Yet at each annual election of new commissioners something 106 AUTOBIOGRAPHY of discontent and the spirit of disorganization manifested itself. It was always at this season that I felt the deepest anxiety. Next in importance to good teachers were good commissioners. It was for this reason that I felt it incum- bent upon me, as far as possible, to run these elections. I had the credit of doing it, and in an important sense it was true. Four new men were elected each year, or old ones returned. Some time before election I was on the alert, would have a good, man picked out, would get my friends interested in the nomination. As the day approached I was active, going from one to another, urging the import- ance of attending to this matter. On the day of election I was not idle. I went the rounds among my friends again to see that they did not neglect their duty, and espe- cially if there was any danger point, I guarded that in every possible way. It rarely occurred that a man hostile to the schools was elected. It was by this eternal vigilance that we succeeded in keeping a good board. Occasionally, the opposition was too strong for us and a "kicker" would be elected. In such a case I was careful to give him every possible atten- tion. I took pains to take him to the schools and show him their practical working, and in this way I never failed to make of him an everlasting friend to the schools. I well recall one marked case of a man who was elected on the issue of economy in the administration of the schools. He was made chairman of the executive committee. I took him the next morning after his appointment to this commit- tee and went from building to building and showed him conditions and appurtenances. As a result, when the time came for making the budget, he was the most liberal man EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 107 on the board, and moved to advance the budget beyond what the board were willing to sanction. It was in such ways that I gained the reputation of win- ning over to the interest of the schools every man how- ever serious his opposition when elected. I doubtless de- served all the reputation I got in this way, for I made it as much my duty to train every new member o'f the board as to train in my new teachers. Without the backing of my board I could do nothing. I must have their hearty co-operation and support in order to accomplish anything. I am happy to be able to say that I had in this respect all I desired. They gave me carte blanche to get what was necessary for the schools. I never abused their confidence, and they trusted me implicitly. They invariably gave me the teachers I wanted and any necessary facilities for run- ning the schools. In fact I had things my own way so completely that I got the title of "Pope Sheldon." If one is to be responsible for the success of a system of schools, he must be allowed freedom in their organiza- tion and management. The Board of Education under- stood this, and, holding me responsible, gave me the lib- erty. In this way the public schools of Oswego became what I made them. I could have done little without the moral backing of a board composed of some of our most highly respected citizens. The people had confidence in them and they in me, and by the combination of these moral forces we were able to accomplish much. At the end of the first year we were able to make a good financial showing. We demonstrated that notwith- standing the many extraordinary expenditures incident to the opening of the schools and while the number of chil- io8 AUTOBIOGRAPHY dren in the public schools had nearly doubled, the expenses over the previous year were only $266.83, while the range and quality of instruction given had been greatly improved. With this showing there was little danger of going back to the old system. The experience of one year had won 'the people to the new order, and we entered upon the new year with the feeling of confidence and permanency. CHAPTER XIX SPECIAL FEATURES SUCCESS OF THE "MACHINE" DURING the second year of my administration the most important new feature engrafted was the opening of what we termed "arithmetic schools." These were a new fea- ture, not only of Oswego, but, so far as I know, of any 'system of grade schools. They were designed to accomo- date a class of pupils who had occupation during the sum- mer, but were idle in the winter. The attendance was always large, often crowded. In many ways it could have been disastrous to the graded schools to have thrown this crowd of uncouth, untutored, hard, rough overgrown boys into them, provided they could have been prevailed upon to go, which is very doubtful. Had they gone, they would not have found what they wanted, and would have been brought into association with pupils much younger than themselves which would of itself have been a source of mortification to them, to say nothing of the dangerous in- fluence on their younger associates. What they all wanted was arithmetic, and as much of it as possible hence the name. They usually took with this subject, reading, writing, spelling, and sometimes geo- graphy or bookkeeping. They were earnest, attentive students, and most of them accomplished a good deal of work in the winter months. It was practically a boys' 109 no AUTOBIOGRAPHY school, because no girls applied. Two of these schools were opened, one on each side of the river.* Evening schools were included as a part of the system from the very first. One hundred and thirty-nine pupils registered the first winter, requiring the services of Mr. I. B. Poucher and Mr. V. C. Douglass. These schools had a marked success from the very beginning. One important measure was the establishment of an Un- classified School. This put the finishing touch to the "new system." It was an innovation on the "graded System of Public Schools." Nothing of the kind had ever been known before, but it became an essential feature of the Oswego schools, and I understand that such schools have since been opened in other cities. They ought to consti- tute a part of every system of closely classified public schools. They meet difficulties that constitute serious ob- jections to such a system. It often happens that pupils come from the country, or from some other town, where there is no system of classified schools, and they are be- hind in some subjects required for admission to classes they would be prepared to enter in other subjects. Such pupils can enter the unclassified school and bring up the neglected subject, and thus qualify themselves to enter at the point suited to their age and other qualifications. Again there are some pupils whose term of attendance at the public schools is necessarily short, owing to pecuni- ary or social conditions, and who wish to pursue special subjects important to employment in some branch of in- dustry, perhaps bookkeeping or arithmetic, or both. Such *For full reports of these and of the evening schools, see Second Annual Report of Board of Education of Oswego, pp. 18-29, from which it will be seen how essential a part of our educational system they formed. EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON in pupils cannot give the time necessary to reach the point in the regular prescribed course, where these subjects are completed. In the classified schools they can take them up and go forward in them as rapidly as they are capable of doing, without being kept back by others. It often happens that pupils, for one reason or another, have fallen behind the classes to which their age might otherwise entitle them. On account of their age and size "they are not comfortable in the classes where their ad- vancement in the prescribed branches of study would place them, but they can go into the unclassified school, where they will find their equals and can take up here such branches as are adapted to their advancement and press forward in them as rapidly as they are able to progress. In this way such a school meets conditions that cannot well be provided for in the regularly graded schools.* During the second year of the schools, much time and attention were given to a more careful classification and grading of the pupils, to the enlargement of the accommo- dations arid in every way to the perfecting of the work begun. The most serious embarrassment experienced was the need of greater school accommodations. The law allowed too limited an amount for building purposes to meet the demand of a growing school population. This had already doubled in a wonderful way. The private schools, of which there were a large number, had vanished in the presence of the new system, until not a single one was left. More or less of the furniture of these schools was purchased This feature was added first in 1859, much later than the two pre- ceding. ED. ii2 AUTOBIOGRAPHY by the board for use in the public schools. Among these schools was the one presided over by "Brother John," which we had started. The public schools were now too popular to allow the existence of a single private school, however excellent. It was said that there were five hundred chil- dren away from home in private schools. The new system brought them home. In this way all the children of school age were brought into the public schools, and it 'was very difficult to provide room for them. But during the course of the year new buildings were erected, and other facilities added. Teachers' meetings were an essential feature of the administration of the schools from the very beginning. These were held weekly, at which time I had an oppor- tunity of giving the necessary instruction in regard to organization, classification, instruction and discipline. Without these frequent meetings with my teachers, I do not see how it would have been possible for me to carry out my plans and methods of administration and instruc- tion. In fact I relied upon the meetings very largely for this purpose these instructions being followed up by per- sonal visits. The discussions dealt with principles of edu- cation and methods of teaching in detail. I have never seen the time from that day to this when I felt that I could dispense with these meetings. It is essential in every system o'f schools, or even in a single school, that there be unity of thought and work in order to realize the high- est success, and such a state of things can only be realized by a frequent conference of the principal or superintendent with his teachers. They must understand each other per- fectly and work in harmony. EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 113 Discipline was one of the subjects frequently discussed. From my present standpoint, I now seem to myself to have been what might be termed a straight, rigid discipli- narian, although not so considered at the time. Theore- tically I was not, but practically I was. I realize that I have grown away from many things that I now condemn. In no one direction is this so evident to me as in the matter of discipline. My tendency was to restrain the activities and impulses of children, while now I would encourage and cultivate them by giving them proper direction. My influence was then toward repres- sion, but now I would give the greatest liberty possible. Repression tends to stultify and deaden the activities of the soul; freedom tends to give growth and vigor. That work is of most value to the pupil which is voluntary, which is done without restraint or compulsion. That teacher who has to resort to forceful methods to secure order or study is of very little value. The best work is done where there is a warm, sympathetic relation between teacher and pupils. The children are drawn into right doing, not driven. There is a vast difference in the value of the two processes. I question very seriously the wisdom of our compulsory education laws. As a place of confinement, the school may be good, in that it keeps the children off the street and away from worse places, but a very large discount is deducted from the value of the education gained under such conditions. As a rule, we attribute too high im- portance to our compulsory laws as a means of educating the people. Freedom here, as everywhere, is essential to the best results. In our schools, direct interest must lie H4 AUTOBIOGRAPHY at the foundation, of all true educational success. If you cannot draw a pupil to school by the interest he feels in the work, it is very questionable whether you will benefit him very much by driving him. The whole tendency of such a process is to disgust him by the driving. For ten years I was sent to school against my wishes. I am not conscious that I derived any good from it, and I am sure that I got very much that was evil. I believe it would have been better for me if my father had listened to my wishes and allowed me to stay at home and work on the farm. I would surely have gotten some good out of the work, for in this there is genuine education. From the very first I emphasized moral training, and had a course of formal lessons arranged in this, the same as in other subjects. The teacher was not to depend on these formal lessons alone, but to seize every occurrence on the school grounds and in the school, and treat it as an object lesson. Much must also be done in an indirect way in the life, manner and work of the teacher. For the 'formal work we used pictures, books and every-day inci- dents. As time went on, the formal work dropped out, and the indirect influences were more and more emphasized. In those early days I attached great importance to writ- ten examinations. The last month of each year was de- voted to them exclusively. They were designed as a re- view covering all the work done for the year as a test of its thoroughness. I personally prepared the questions for every grade. I marked the answer to every question, keep- ing a personal account with each pupil and teacher. The results were all tabulated and printed in the annual re- ports of the board and sometimes in the daily papers. In EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 115 this way I kept up a high pressure on the schools. The rivalry and competition were something tremendous. It took me a long time to learn that there was a better way, but at last the lesson was learned. I carried a straight- jacket system of close classification to its highest point of perfection, accompanied by a course of study as pre- cise, definite and exacting as it is possible to make, tested by complete and exhaustive examinations which left no room for doubt as to the thoroughness of the work done. I have good reason for believing that I had organized and perfected the most complete educational machine that was ever constructed. By looking at my watch, I could tell exactly what every teacher in the city was doing. At the end of the year the classes were passed up from grade to grade as result of the examinations. All that were passed from one group to another, as from Primary to Junior, from Junior to Senior, or from Senior to the High School, received certificates signed by the president and secretary of the board. They were, to all intents and purposes, diplomas, to which the children attached great importance. In August, 1854, the State Teachers' Association had one .of its annual sessions in Oswego. This was a new experi- ence for the town. Every hotel and private house was crowded to its capacity. This was an introduction of the educational fraternity to Oswego, and an introduction of Oswego to the educational men of the State. We were better known after this meeting and the schools had grown into the confidence of the people. CHAPTER XX THE MACHINE FOUND WANTING ADVENT OF THE "OBJECTIVE SYSTEM" : 1859 NOTWITHSTANDING all perfection of organization, and I think it would be very difficult to find anything more complete, there was something wanting to give life, spirit I may say, soul to the school system. As a machine it was perfect, but it lacked vitality. It was not a living organism. This I felt strongly. But exactly how to go to work to remedy the defect I did not know. I realized that our work was too formal, too much of a memorizing process. We wanted something that would wake up the pupils, set them to thinking, observing, reasoning. About this time (1859) the superintendent of schools in Elmira, Rev. Mr. Scofield, came to see me and spend a day or two in one of our schools. I freely expressed to him my dissatisfaction, and something of the way in which it seemed to me the work of the schools might be im- proved. It must be more objective. But there were no facilities for carrying on such work. For this purpose we wanted collections of objects of all sorts, illustrations of every kind. We wanted more reading matter, and that which was better adapted to the ages of the children; we wanted charts of color and form, natural history, pictures, objects for teaching number, etc. I found him fully in sympathy with my ideas, and we 116 EDWARD AUSTIN SHELDON 117 then and there resolved to make a beginning in the prepa- ration of the facilities so much needed. He agreed to prepare a set of color charts and cards accompanied by a manual of directions to teachers, and I was to prepare a set of reading charts and cards with a book to accompany the same. This was in September, 1859. A month later, in pur- suance of the plan I had adopted at the time o'f my first 'entering upon my duties as superintendent of schools to visit one or more towns having a reputation for good schools I went on a tour of inspection to the schools of Toronto, Ontario. To my astonishment I found here very