We are very glad to have placed at our disposal so much of the private journal of the late Rev. G. H. Pond as relates to the wonderful work of God among the Dakotas in prison at Mankato, Minn., in the winter of 1862-63. The facts, in the main, have been published before; but the story, as told so simply and graphically by Mr. Pond, may well bear repeating. Mr. Pond arrived at Mankato Saturday, January 31, 1863, and remained until the afternoon of Tuesday, February 3:—
“There are over three hundred Indians in prison, the most of whom are in chains. There is a degree of religious interest manifested by them, which is incredible. They huddle themselves together every morning and evening in the prison, and read the Scriptures, sing hymns, confess one to another, exhort one another, and pray together. They say that their whole lives have been wicked—that they have adhered to the superstitions of their ancestors until they have reduced themselves to their present state of wretchedness and ruin. They declare that they have left it all, and will leave all forever; that they do and will embrace the religion of Jesus Christ, and adhere to it as long as they live; and that this is their only hope, both in this world and in the next. They say that before they came to this state of mind—this determination—their hearts failed them with fear, but now they have much mental ease and comfort.
“About fifty men of the Lake Calhoun band expressed a wish to be baptized by me, rather than by any one else, on the ground that my brother and myself had been their first and chief instructors in religion. After consultation with Rev. Marcus Hicks of Mankato, Dr. Williamson and I decided to grant their request, and administer to them the Christian ordinance of baptism. We made the conditions as plain as we could, and we proclaimed there in the prison that we would baptize such as felt ready heartily to comply with the conditions—commanding that none should come forward to receive the rite who did not do it heartily to the God of heaven, whose eye penetrated each of their hearts. All, by a hearty—apparently hearty—response, signified their desire to receive the rite on the conditions offered.
“As soon as preparations could be completed, and we had provided ourselves with a basin of water, they came forward, one by one, as their names were called, and were baptized into the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, while each subject stood with his right hand raised and head bowed, and many of them with the eyes closed, with an appearance of profound reverence. As each one passed from the place where he stood to be baptized, one or the other of us stopped him and addressed to him, in a low voice, a few words, such as our knowledge of his previous character and the solemnities of the occasion suggested. The effect of this, in most cases, seemed to very much deepen the solemnity of the ceremony. I varied my words, in this part of the exercises, to suit the case of the person; and when gray-haired medicine-men stood literally trembling before me, as I laid one hand on their heads, the effect on my mind was such that at times my tongue faltered. The words which I used in this part of the service were the following, or something nearly like them in substance: ‘My brother, this is the mark of God which is placed upon you. You will carry it while you live. It introduces you into the great family of God, who looked down from heaven, not upon your head, but into your heart. This ends your superstition, and from this time you are to call God your Father. Remember to honor him. Be resolved to do his will.’ It made me glad to hear them respond, ‘Yes, I will.’
“When we were through, and all were again seated, we sung a hymn appropriate to the occasion, in which many of them joined, and then prayed. I then said to them, ‘Hitherto I have addressed you as friends; now I call you brothers. For years we have contended together on this subject of religion; now our contentions cease. We have one Father—we are one family. I must now leave you, and probably shall see you no more in this world. While you remain in this prison, you have time to attend to religion. You can do nothing else. Your adherence to the Medicine Sack and the Wotawe has brought you to ruin. Our Lord Jesus Christ can save you. Seek him with all your heart. He looks not on your heads nor on your lips, but into your bosoms. Brothers, I will make use of a term of brotherly salutation, to which you have been accustomed in your medicine dance, and say to you, Brothers, I spread my hands over you and bless you.’ The hearty answer of three hundred voices made me feel glad.
“The outbreak and events which followed it have, under God, broken into shivers the power of the priests of devils, which has hitherto ruled these wretched tribes. They were before bound in the chains and confined in the prison of Paganism, as the prisoners in the prison at Philippi were bound with chains. The outbreak and its attendant consequences have been like the earthquake to shake the foundation of their prison, and every one’s bonds have been loosed. Like the jailer, in anxious fear they have cried, ‘Sirs, what must we do to be saved?’ They have been told to believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, who will still save unto the uttermost all that come unto God by him. They say they repent and forsake their sins—that they believe on him, that they trust in him, and will obey him. Therefore they have been baptized into the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, three hundred in a day.”
In the spring of 1853, Mrs. Sarah Poage Pond departed, after a lingering illness of eighteen months, and left a “blessed memory.” There were seven children by this marriage, all of whom are living, and have families of their own, but George, who died while in the Lane Theological Seminary. In the summer of 1854, Mr. Pond was married to his second wife, Mrs. Agnes C. J. Hopkins, widow of Rev. Robert Hopkins. The second Mrs. Pond brought her three children, making the united family of children at that time ten. Six have been added since. And there are twenty-two grandchildren, six of whom are members of the Church of Christ, together with all the children and their companions. Is not that a successful life? Counting the widowed mother and those who have come into the family by marriage, there are, I understand, just fifty who mourn the departure of the patriarch father. A little more than two-score years ago, he was one; and now behold a multitude!
Mary Frances Hopkins, who came into the family when a girl, and afterward married Edward R. Pond, the son, writes thus: “To me he was as near an own father as it is possible for one to be who is so by adoption, and I shall always be glad I was allowed to call him father.”
The members of the synod of Minnesota will remember with great pleasure Mr. Pond’s presence with them at their last meeting at St. Paul, in the middle of October. For some years past, he has frequently been unable to be present. This time he seemed to be more vigorous than usual, and greatly entertained the synod and people of St. Paul with his terse and graphic presentation of some of the Lord’s workings in behalf of the Dakotas.
During the meeting I was quartered with Mrs. Governor Ramsay. On Saturday I was charged with a message to Mr. Pond, inviting him to come and spend the night at the governor’s. We passed a profitable evening together, and he and I talked long of the way in which the Lord had led us; of the great prosperity he had given us in our families and in our work. Neither of us thought, probably, that that would be our last talk this side the golden city. The next day, Sabbath, he preached in the morning, for Rev. D. R. Breed, in the House of Hope, which, probably, was his last sermon. In the evening he was with us in the Opera House, at a meeting in the interest of home and foreign missions.
“His health gradually failed,” Mrs. Pond writes, “from the time of his return from synod, though he did not call himself sick until the 11th of January, 1878, and he died on Sabbath, the 20th, about noon.” She adds: “His interest in the Indians, for whom he labored so long, was very deep, and he always spoke of them with loving tenderness, and often with tears. One of the last things he did was to look over his old Dakota hymns, revised by J. P. W. and A. L. R., and sent to him for his consent to the proposed alterations.”
“His simple faith in the Lord Jesus caused him all the time to live a life of self-denial, that he might do more to spread the knowledge of Jesus’ love to those who knew it not.” The love of Christ constrained him, and was his ruling passion.
Of his last days the daughter says:—
“He really died of consumption. The nine days he was confined to bed he suffered much; but his mind was mostly clear, and he was very glad to go. I think the summons was no more sudden to him than to Elijah. He was to the last loving and trustful, brave and patient. To his brother Samuel, as he came to his sick bed, he said: ‘So we go to see each other die.’ Some time before he had visited Samuel when he did not expect to recover. ‘My struggles are over. The Lord has taken care of me, and he will take care of the rest of you. My hope is in the Lord,’ he said.