Part 11 (1/2)
In returning home from these rounds, amidst filth and poverty, I remember that I was frequently so depressed and exhausted as to throw myself flat upon the rug in front of the fire, scarcely able to move.
The discouraging feature in such visits as I was making, and which must always exist in similar efforts, is that one has no point of religious contact with these people.
Among all the hundreds of families I knew and visited I never met but two that were Protestants. To all words of spiritual warning or help there came the chilling formalism of the ignorant Roman Catholic in reply, implying that certain outward acts made the soul right with its Creator. The very inner ideas of our spiritual life of free love towards G.o.d, true repentance and trust in a Divine Redeemer, seemed wanting in their minds. I never had the least ambition to be a proselytizer, and never tried to convert them, and I certainly had no prejudice against the Romanists; on the contrary, it has been my fortune in Europe to enjoy the intercourse of some most spiritual-minded Catholics. But these poor people seemed stamped with the spiritual lifelessness of Romanism.
At how many a lonely death-bed or sick-bed, where even the priest had forgotten to come, have I longed and tried to say some comforting word of religion to the dull ear, closing to all earthly sounds; but even if heard and the sympathy gratefully felt, it made scarcely more religious impression than would the chants of the Buddhists have done. One sprinkle of holy water were worth a volume of such words.
A Protestant has great difficulty in coming into connection with the Romanist poor. I was often curious to know the exact influence of the priests over these people. The lowest poor in New York are not, I think, much cared for by the Romanist priesthood. One reason, without doubt, is that their attention has thus far been mainly (and wisely) directed to building handsome churches, and that they have not means to do much for these persons. Another and more powerful reason is, probably, that the old ”enthusiasm of humanity” which animated a Guy, a Vincent de Paul, or Xavier, has died out among them.
I have known, however; individual cases in our city, where a priest has exercised a marked influence in keeping his charge from intoxication.
There were also occasionally, in this very region, something like ”Revivals of Religion” among the people, stimulated by the priests, in which many young girls joined religious societies, and did lead, to my knowledge, for a time more pure and devout lives.
When one thinks what a n.o.ble-minded and humane Priest might accomplish among the lowest cla.s.ses of New York, how many vices he could check, and what virtues he might cherish, and what public blessings on the whole community he might confer, by elevating this degraded population; and then as one looks at the moral condition of the Roman Catholic poor, one can only sigh, that that once powerful body has lost so much of the inspiration of Christ which once filled it.
The plan which I laid out in working in this quarter was in harmony with all our previous efforts; it was especially to influence and improve the children.
It so happened that near ”Dutch Hill” was another hill covered with handsome houses and inhabited by wealthy people, ”Murray Hill.” The ladies in this prosperous quarter were visited, and finally a.s.sembled in a public meeting; and, with the same preliminaries as in the other Schools, we at length organized in 1854.
THE EAST RIVER INDUSTRIAL SCHOOL.
Early in the history of this School, we secured the services of a lady, Miss Spratt, now Mrs. Hurley, who has been ever since the main-stay of that most useful charity.
For seventeen years this woman of refinement and education has spent her days in this School of poor children, and her hours of leisure in those wretched shanties--an angel of mercy and sympathy to every unfortunate family for miles around. Whatever woman falls into misfortune, loses husband or child, is driven from home by poverty, or forced from work by depression of business, or meets with troubles of mind or body, at once comes to her for sympathy and relief. She has become so used to scenes of misery, that to her, she says, ”the house of mourning” is more natural than ”the house of feasting.”
The present writer, for his own part, confesses that he could not possibly have borne the harrowing and disagreeable scenes with which he has been so long familiar, without making a strict rule never to think or speak of the poor when he was away from his work, and immediately absorbing himself in some entirely different subject. The spring of the mind would have been broken.
But Mrs. Hurley lived in and for the poor; her only relaxation was hearing Mr. Beecher on Sunday; and yet, when she occasionally visited us in the country, she devoured books--her great favorite being a translation I had of Plato.
The children, of course, became pa.s.sionately attached to this missionary of charity. During her labors, she was married to a physician, Dr.
Hurley, who subsequently was killed in the army during the War of the Rebellion. While she was temporarily absent, and a strange teacher employed, six of the wildest girls were expelled, so unmanageable were they. When she came back, they returned and welcomed her eagerly, behaving perfectly well; and it was discovered that so attached were they to her, they had each carried fragments of her dress as mementos in their bosom!
The peculiar value of our common experience in this School was, that we were enabled through so many years to follow carefully the results of the School on a large cla.s.s of very dest.i.tute little girls. We know personally what was here accomplished. A very hopeful feature appeared soon in the work. The children rose above the condition of their parents; sometimes they improved, by their own increasing neatness and good behavior, the habits and appearance of their fathers and mothers.
More often they became ashamed of their paternal piggeries and nasty dens, and were glad to get away to more decent homes or new occupations.
One great means of influence here was, as in the other Schools, through the regular a.s.sistance of volunteer teachers, the ladies of the a.s.sociation.
It happened that there was among them more of a certain tenacity of character, of the old Puritan faithfulness, than was manifested by some of our co-laborers; having put their hands to the plow, they never thought of turning back. They gave time and labor, and money freely, and they continued at their posts year after year.
The children felt their refining and elevating influence. We soon found that the daughters of the drunkards did not follow their mothers'
footsteps, simply because they had acquired higher tastes. We hardly ever knew of one who indulged in drinking; indeed, one old red-faced tippler, Mrs. McK., who was the best ch.o.r.e-woman on the Hill when sober, eventually was entirely reformed by her children. No child seemed to fall back into the degradation of the parents. And recalling now the rank foul soil from which so many sweet flowers seemed to spring, one can only wonder and be grateful that efforts so imperfect bore such harvest.
I remember the F. family--such a cheery, healthy-looking family living in a damp, dark bas.e.m.e.nt, and almost always half-starved, wretchedly poor, but very industrious! The youngest daughter pa.s.sed through our School, and is now becoming a teacher; another married a mechanic (these girls never marry day-laborers). Still another proved herself a heroine.
We sent her as nursery-maid to a family, and as they were all sailing down the Hudson in the _St. John,_ the boiler burst; amid the horrible confusion and panic where so many perished, this girl had the courage to rush through the steam and boiling water, and save the three children entrusted to her charge. Of course, after this, she was no longer a servant, but a ”sister beloved” in the family. A gentleman of fortune, attracted by her appearance and intelligence, ultimately married her. He died, and she was left with a nice fortune. She bore her change of fortune beautifully.
The following is another similar incident from our Journal:
A ROMANTIC INCIDENT IN AN INDUSTRIAL SCHOOL.
”A few years ago I remember an old shanty on 'Dutch Hill,' where a wretched-looking man lived with his pigs and goats, called K----. He was considered a bad man even among his bad neighbors, and the story of him was (I do not know how true), that he had committed murder, and had escaped the law by some legal quibble. He was a swill-gatherer, and had two little bright daughters to a.s.sist him at home. These came to our Fortieth-street School. They improved very fast, and one used to attract much attention from the ladies by her pretty face and intelligent answers. Nellie finally left the school, and was sent by us to the West.