CHAPTER XVI.
"STATE PUBLIC SCHOOL."
After my return my health gave way, as did also that of our worthy agent, Catherine Taylor. She endured great suffering from inflammation of the sciatic nerve, and was entirely disabled from labor for months. Late in the Autumn our supplies ran very low, and our self-sacrificing president was also in poor health. She, with a few other members of the board, visited the asylum, and found nothing on hand but corn-meal and turnips, which, with a little milk that was made into a gravy, was all there was to keep the children from starving. Our president ran in debt twenty-six dollars at the mill and grocery; but on Thanksgiving-day a collection of sixty-six dollars was taken for the asylum. This liquidated the debt, and furnished the necessary food for the time being. But Winter was approaching, and the failing health of the workers seemed to forebode the necessity of closing our asylum work.
Mrs. Catherine Rice corresponded with friends of the work in Grand Rapids, asking them to unite with us in a petition to the State Legislature to establish a State manual labor school in Grand Rapids, as the friends in that city were arranging for a local orphan asylum. The subject was discussed in the board, but a small majority voted against uniting their local interests with the State work. During this time, all new material sent in for clothing was exchanged for food, and Jane A. Smith and our faithful teacher applied to a few friends and received temporary aid. On December 15, 1870, we found the provisions too short to last for two weeks. The question came up, What shall be done for the twenty children for whom no homes are provided? Under the circumstances, there seemed no alternative but to return the children to their respective county infirmaries. When this decision was reached by the board of managers, and made known to the matron and teacher, on the evening of their week-day prayer-meeting, the matron informed the children of it. Eleven of them had made a profession of religion, and had given evidence of having found Him who said, "Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not" Each of these offered earnest prayer for God to help them live so faithfully that he would make friends for them, to bring them something to eat, "so we won't have to go back to the county poor-house."
All this time my children and friends had not allowed me to know the condition of the asylum. Our firm friend, Rebecca Bennett, and our president called on my physician to ask permission to see me for advice as to whom they could write for aid. He replied, "With your calm and judicious manner, I can risk you." But they came far short of making a full revelation of the true state of things. I advised them to write the superintendent of the Congregationalist Sabbath-school at, Franklin Center, and to the pastor of the Methodist Episcopal Church in Tecumseh. They proposed that I should dictate to my daughter what to write. This was done, and my appeal was read in their respective congregations. Within a week two sleigh-loads, containing grain, flour, meal, and beef, and a whole dressed sheep, came from those places. The drivers rolled in barrel after barrel from each of the sleighs, and said they would bring more before this was gone. One little boy of eleven years said:
"Mrs. Smith, don't you think God sent all this 'cause we prayed so hard the other night?"
"My child," she answered, "the Lord has heard our prayers, and has answered; and, although it is snowing hard, yet you must hurry, and hitch Jack to the buggy as quick as possible, so that we can let Mrs. Haviland know this; for I have been afraid she has been worse since she learned we were so nearly out."
Soon she came into my room with the glad tidings: "Do not take another anxious thought over our asylum. We had more supplies come to us to-day than we have had for two months—two heavy sleigh-loads." We clasped each others' hands and wept for joy, and praised God, from whom all blessings flow.
This news revived the spirits of those whose hands were hanging down, and gave them courage to reappoint officers. Rev. Dr. Asa Mahan's wife served as president, with other officers, duly elected. A petition to the Legislature was drafted and industriously circulated, and printed copies were sent to a number of the superintendents of counties who had favored our project. Though the Legislature was in session, and there was not time to circulate it as extensively as desirable, yet Dr. Mahan and others thought it might succeed, although there were heavy drafts upon our Legislature of 1870-71. The State Prison was to be enlarged, the Insane Asylum to be improved, and additions to Ann Arbor University made, while there were still other calls for appropriations. All these made the success of our scheme look doubtful to many. All I could do was to continue in prayer that senators and representatives might feel the importance of looking after the pressing wants of our future men and women, soon to fill our vacated places. I found many children in the county poor-house through the debauchery of their fathers, and occasionally mothers.
The improvement, both in conduct and in morals, of the neglected little waifs whom we had gathered into our asylum, urged us on in our work; for we realized that our experiment was a success. Our friends were thus encouraged to press forward with the petition.
Dr. Mahan and his wife, our president, went before the Legislature with the view of pressing our claims. Members of the Senate and House proposed to grant Dr. Mahan one evening in representing the project, and left it in the hands of the Committee on Petitions. Senator Randall, of Coldwater, put it in the form of a bill that covered the spirit and requests of the petition. Being chairman of the Committee on Bills, he presented it in the Senate. It was passed in that body, to our great joy, and soon after was passed in the House, and received the governor's signature, making it a law.
Though only thirty thousand dollars were appropriated by the Legislature with which to commence operations, yet I knew the State would carry on the work hereafter. The site for the new asylum was to be selected at whatever desirable locality offered the most liberal donations. As Coldwater offered thirty thousand dollars toward the new enterprise, it was located in that city. While the buildings for the State school were being erected, our asylum was moved into the city of Adrian, as at that point it was more convenient for the sisters composing the board of managers to care for it. When the "State Public School" should be opened, all in our asylum not provided with homes were to be transferred to it.
My health improved sufficiently to enable me to make a few appeals to bring up arrears in our work. The matron and myself had received but very little, as all went to the support of the children. I cared but little for myself; but for sister Smith, who had been such a faithful, mother to these poor children, I was more anxious. At length I secured permission of my tender care-takers—my two daughters—to go among my friends in Detroit. To most of them I appealed by letter, and made but one personal call. That was more particularly in the interest of a prisoner for whom I solicited a pardon. This was at length granted. Governor Baldwin had known of my asylum work, and inquired after its interests. He gave me twenty dollars towards it. Mr. Crapo's son gave me twenty-five dollars, and Captain E. B. Ward fifty dollars. Others responded to my letters, and I obtained over two hundred dollars.
The great fires in Chicago and Northern Michigan stopped farther work of this character; but we did what we could toward canceling arrearages, being confident that were it not for the continued and faithful toiling of Jane A. Smith the asylum would have died during my long and serious illness. It must have died, even after its removal to Adrian, had it not been for a faithful few.
A few months after the State Public School was opened at Coldwater, in charge of Professor Truesdell, superintendent, and Miss Emma A. Hall, matron. I went into the school as seamstress and nurse, and remained there nearly two years. Instead of overhauling, cutting, and making over second-hand clothes for the three hundred little homeless waifs we had cared for in our orphans' home, we were now well supplied with bolts of substantial new material, out of which we made comfortable bedding and clothing. Here we had no care about furnishing, and no anxious fear for their support. With pleasure we saw the vast contrast in conveniences and supplies compared with our little rill in which we so long paddled our own canoe, and in which faithful laborers were still at work. It matters not by whom this great work was accomplished; it matters not by what agencies our prayer of more than four years long, previous to the adopting of this work by the State, was answered. Through an overruling power clouds and icebergs vanished, and in lieu thereof the massive brick buildings of the State Public School in Coldwater were raised, instead of the old Raisin Institute, where it drew its first breath.