Her father, Mr. Rowland Ellis, was born in Boston, but while yet young removed to Cincinnati, where he still lives in a vigorous and honored old age. Although his mother, in all her later years at least, was a devoted attendant upon Theodore Parker's services, Mr. Ellis in early life was a Baptist. But when the Unitarian Church was founded at Cincinnati, in 1830, his name appears among the organizers, of whom he is almost the sole survivor. Of that church he has always been a devoted supporter and constant attendant. He was a leading banker of the West, and Sallie was born into one of the most elegant and luxurious homes in Cincinnati. The Ellises kept open house, exercised the most generous hospitality, and made, as one says who knew them well then, "such a beautiful use of their money. The Ellises were just the people who ought to have money." Mrs. Ellis is described as a woman of unusual loveliness of character. Out of the eight children, Sallie was thought to be the mother's favorite, because, it was supposed, she was always puny, shy, and delicate. "Sallie shall always have what she wants," said the mother, "because she wants so little." But mothers know, and undoubtedly the mother saw deeper than others into the rare spiritual quality concealed from the world under her delicate child's quiet, reserved exterior. Her older sister remembers of Sallie's childhood: "As a very young child she exhibited strongly marked peculiarities of character. Her affection, conscientiousness, piety, and love of duty made her different from the rest of us as children. I remember well that at home or at school there were never any rebukes for Sallie. Though very social by nature, as young as at five and six years of age she loved to be alone, and would sit in the corner of her mother's room, with face turned to the corner, musing, and talking in a low tone to her doll. When our father and mother would take the children to entertainments of various descriptions, such as children enjoy, Sallie would invariably express her preference to remain at home. If she thought her parents wanted her to go, she went."
For some years Sallie attended the private school of Mrs. Anne Ryland, an English Unitarian (a former parishioner, I think, of Rev. Laut Carpenter, and connected by marriage with Rev. Brooke Herford), a lady of noble character, and a teacher whose culture and methods were in advance of her age. In a volume of poetry presented Sallie by this teacher, is this inscription, whose old-fashioned quaintness of phrase pictures for us the Sallie Ellis of thirteen, then, as always, faithful to duty.
"Mrs. Ryland has been much gratified by the general deportment of Miss Sallie Ellis since she has been under her charge. Miss Ellis has evinced an evident desire to please, by a strict observance of the rules of the school, and by assiduous and persevering attention to all her studies. She has made improvement in them all fully commensurate with her laudable endeavors, in Grammar, Geography, and Orthography particularly. It is with unfeigned regret that Mrs. Ryland has to add, to the foregoing expression of her approval of her dear pupil's conduct, the last word,—Farewell."
Later, she attended the private school of Rev. William Silsbee, who says of her, "She was always studious and well-behaved, one of the most faithful of all my pupils." Mr. M. Hazen White, for so many years superintendent of the Unitarian Sunday school, was also one of her teachers. When seventeen, she was sent to Mrs. Charles Sedgwick's school, in Lenox, Mass. A schoolmate describes her then as a quite pretty, black-eyed girl, of delicate physique, a good and studious but not brilliant scholar, very quiet and retiring, and almost morbidly reserved. The few friends she made here, however, were life-long, and she corresponded with some of the Lenox schoolmates until her death. "She was a perfect dancer," says the schoolmate.
Treasured among Miss Ellis's papers were found some pages of a schoolgirl's album, marked, "At Mrs. Sedgwick's School, Lenox, Mass., March, 1852." It contains verses descriptive of each pupil, written apparently by Mrs. Sedgwick. The little pen-picture of the schoolgirl paints well the woman of later years.
SALLIE ELLIS.
If device for an old Latin motto were asked,
No invention would need to be very much tasked;
For the "multum in parvo" you safely might stand,
With book, needle, or pen, ever found in your hand.
A little, wee body with strong, earnest will,
That steadily works with the force of a mill;
A mind quite untiring, whatever it do,
Its manifold ends with good heed to pursue:
Hands busy and strong play deftly their part,
And these all controlled by a good, honest heart.
Bright indeed looked Sallie's future in those days. A year or two more at school, then a return to the loved mother and the beautiful home, and a "coming out" into the brilliant world with all the advantages attending wealth and position. But the clouds were already gathering which in coming years were to darken for her in quick succession the sunshine of earthly prosperity. She was called home from school by the illness of her mother. The mother died, leaving Sallie the oldest daughter at home, to fill her place as best she might to five little brothers and sisters.
Her sister says: "Our dear mother's death was the turning-point in Sallie's life. She was so shrinking, sensitive, and tender by nature, no one could fully understand her but a mother who had watched the hidden beauties of her character expand from infancy to girlhood."
The mother's memory was fondly cherished, her loss deeply mourned, all Miss Ellis's life. Over the dying bed of the worn and weary woman of fifty smiled down the radiant face of the mother, painted when a young, blooming girl. Among Miss Ellis's papers was found a manuscript volume of eighty-one pages of selections, copied in her clear, firm handwriting, index of the spirit's strength. It is headed, "Crumbs of Comfort for the Afflicted." The selections are from the Bible, sermons, hymns, and poems,—all breathing of religious trust and help in grief,—a beautiful and touching collection. The first page reads,—