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AT TWENTY-FIVE. FANNY CROSBY'S LIFE - STORY BY HERSELF NEW YORK: EVERY WHERE PUBLISHING COMPANY 1903 7531 THE LIBRARY OF j CONGRESS, Tvvo Copies Received JUN in 1903 \ Copyright Entry *LASS it XXc No (o •! y s COPY B. e » e ♦ • « c r « « ' Copyright, 1903, BY EVERY WHERE PUBLISHING COMPANY DEDICATED TO ALL MY FRIENDS IN BOTH WORLDS INTRODUCTION: BY WILL CARLETON. All over this country, and, one might say, the world, Fanny Crosby's hymns are singing themselves into the hearts and souls of the people. They have been doing this for many years, and will do so as long as our civilization lasts. There are to-day used in religious meetings, more of her inspired lines, than of any other poet, living or dead. Not only those hymns with which she is credited in the singing-books, but thousands of others, have come from her heart and mind; for she has written, not only under her own name, but several nom-de- plumes. Her sacred lyrics have been translated into several languages. She is easily the greatest living writer of hymns, and will always occupy a high place among authors. But what of Fanny Crosby the woman? Is her personality as sweet and inspiring as her poems? Has her life been an exemplification and illustration of them? From those of us that know her well, such ques- tions would elicit a smile. Whoever has had oppor- tunity of witnessing her patience, her sweetness of thought and life, her bright winsomeness and her all-around and all-through goodness, would not even take the trouble to answer in the affirmative; he would say, "There she is; there is her life; let them speak for themselves." But compared to the thousands that have sung her inspiring hymns and partaken of her gentle spirit, few, of course, can have the opportunity of knowing her personally; and it is natural that all should wish to learn as much about her as possible. Introduction. In this book is an account of her life, told by her- self, and as she only could tell it. There are several of her newest hymns; a few of the many tributes that she has received; and the latest portrait of her, taken expressly for this book Every copy of the work that is sold, adds substantially and immediately to the comfort of this grand woman, who has been singing in such far-reaching tones, the praise of her God and her Christ, for sixty years. The response will, no doubt, be such as to con- vince our dear Fanny Crosby that she occupies a warm place in the hearts of the people, and that she is sure of their love, their honor, and their practical appreciation. VI CONTENTS. CHAPTER I.— 1820-1825. INFANCY BLINDED AT SIX WEEKS OP AGE AM THANKFUL FOR IT NOW PARENTS AND RELA- TIVES LONELY AMUSEMENTS ASKING GOD FOR A CHANCE IN THE WORLD HIS ANSWER THE BELLIGERENT LAMB DANIEL DREW's ATTEMPTED PRESENT OF " STOCK." . . 13 CHAPTER II.— 1825. A SLOOP JOURNEY DOWN THE HUDSON ACTING AS captain's FIRST MATE A PATRIOTIC SONG DRS. MOTT AND DELAFIELD GIVE ADVERSE DE- CISION BLIND FOR LIFE THE SAD JOURNEY HOME WHA.T THE WAVES SAID. . . . 20 CHAPTER III.— 1830. BIBLE-INSTRUCTION MY FIRST POEM MY FIRST LITERARY ADMIRER HIS INABILITY TO CON- CEAL HIS SENTIMENTS A TERRIBLE THIRST FOR KNOWLEDGE A PLEA FOR MENTAL LIGHT god's GOODNESS IN ANSWERING PRAYER. , 26 CHAPTER IV.— 1835. A THRILLING ANNOUNCEMENT AN EDUCATION AT last! ON THE "tiptoe OF EXPECTATION" STARTING FOR SCHOOL ARRIVAL AT THE INSTI- TUTION FOR THE BLIND A HELPER OF OP- PRESSED GREEKS AN ACQUAINTANCE OF LORD BYRON SCHOOL-LIFE STARTS OFF WELL. . 30 vii Contents. PAGE. CHAPTER v.— 1835-1836. SCHOOL-LIFE THE MONSTER ARITHMETIC AND ITS TERRORS METAL SLATES IN LOVE WITH OTHER STUDIES " DROP INTO POETRY " NOW AND THEN TEMPTATIONS TO VANITY A BENE- FICIAL "call-down" from the SUPERINTEND- ENT ALL FOR MY OWN GOOD. . . ' SZ CHAPTER VI.— 1835-1858. INCITEMENTS TO AMBITION GREAT PEOPLE WHO WERE BLIND THE IMMORTAL HOMER THE KING-POET OSSIAN JOHN MILTON AND HIS GENIUS FRANCIS HUBER, THE NATURALIST OTHERS WHOSE CAREERS GAVE US ENCOUR- AGEMENT. . . ..... 39 CHAPTER VII.— 1835-1858. VACATIONS PUPILS WHO ENJOY AND PUPILS WHO DO NOT ENJOY THEM AWAITED EACH TIME BY MOTHER AND SISTERS CANDY AND FLOWERS SAVED UP EXCURSIONS SWEET INQUISITIVE- NESS AN ENTHUSIASTIC AUDIENCE SISTERS STILL SPARED. . . . . . -42 CHAPTER VIII.— 1836-1837. BLIND STUDENTS, ALSO, HAVE " SPORTIVE " MOODS SOCIALS, MUSICALES, AND SOIREES HAZING TENDER ATTACHMENTS " INNOCENT" THEFTS A WATERMELON ADVENTURE DEAR MR. STEVENS' FIFTEEN-MINUTE NAP A GOOD LAUGH OVER THE AFFAIR. .... CHAPTER IX.— 1836-1842. 45 STRENUOUS WORK HOW A BLIND PERSON CAN TOIL, INTELLECTUALLY BECOME ONE OP THE TEACHERS THE "WITCHING SPRITE" OF POETRY FORBIDDEN TO COMPOSE ANY POETRY FOR THREE MONTHS PHRENOLOGY TO THE RESCUE ! ....... 49 viii Contents. PAGE, CHAPTER X.— 1842-1843- DR. combe's endorsement IS OF BENEFIT THE "poet laureate" of the INSTITUTION taught how to write poetry hamilton Murray's aid — a reunion after sixty-five years' absence. . . . . • 53 CHAPTER XI.— 1842-1845- musical diversions for THE BLIND NEIGH- BORLY CALLS SOIREES WILLIAM CULLEN BRY- ANT VISITS US HIS KINDNESS TO THE GIRL- POET TWO VISITS WITH HORACE GREELEY SHOWING PEOPLE ABOUT THE INSTITUTION HOW THE BLIND " FIND THE WAY TO THEIR MOUTHS." ....... 56 CHAPTER XII.— 1843. A TRIP ON THE ''RAGING CANAWL " ITS WONDERS AND ITS DELIGHTS THROUGH THE MOHAWK VALLEY AND AWAY TOWARD THE LAKES AN EXPECTED FUNERAL PROCESSION TURNS INTO A "CIRCIS" ENTERTAINMENTS ALL ALONG THE WAY MAYORS OF TOWNS PRESIDE BLIND AND SEEING PEOPLE COME FROM ALL DIRECTIONS BUFFALO AND NIAGARA FALLS ARE REACHED. . 60 CHAPTER XIII.— 1843. NIAGARA FALLS VISITED WHAT THE BLIND STU- DENTS "saw" OF IT TABLE ROCK STANDING UPON GOAT ISLAND THE POOR OLD ANIMAL FOR WHICH IT WAS NAMED STORIES OF THE "oldest inhabitants" TELLING ABOUT IT TO THOSE WHO "couldn't GO." . . -65 CHAPTER XIV.— 1 844-1 847- OFF TO THE NATIONAL CAPITAL AND CAPITOL BEFORE THE SENATE AND HOUSE OF REPRE- SENTATIVES MEET AND HEAR JOHN QUINCY ADAMS JAMES BUCHANAN ANDREW JOHNSON ix Contents. PAGE. STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS WILLIAM L. DAYTON JOHN P. HALE RUFUS CHOATE R. H. BAYARD ROBERT J. WALKER OTHER FAMOUS MEN IN THE AUDIENCE. . . . . . -69 CHAPTER XV.— 1844-1897. COLLECT POEMS AND PUBLISH A BOOK " THE BLIND GIRL AND OTHER POEMS " MY "DE- CLINING health" DELIVERING A POEM BE- FORE THE NEW JERSEY LEGISLATURE ANOTHER VOLUME, "MONTEREY AND OTHER POEMS " MY "declining years" FIFTY-TWO YEARS AGO STILL ANOTHER BOOK, "a WREATH OF COLUM- BIA'S flowers" PROSE STORIES " BELLS OF EVENING." ....... 75 CHAPTER XVI.— 1844-1902. A NEW CHARGE A PROMISING STUDENT HIS CAREER IN SCHOOL MARRIAGE SYMPATHY IN PROFESSIONAL WORK CHARACTERISTICS OF MY HUSBAND HIS MANY GOOD QUALITIES HIS DEATH. . . . . . . .80 CHAPTER XVII.— 1845. THE BLIND NOT SO EASILY DECEIVED WAYS TO ASCERTAIN WHAT IS "GOING ON " LOVE- MAKING BEFORE THE BLIND NOT ALWAYS SAFE WIRELESS TELEGRAPHY OF THE MIND, HEART, AND SOUL THE BLIND CHILD FROM NEW JERSEY GRIEVES FOR HIS GRANDMOTHER ACTING THE PART OF THE GOOD OLD LADY THE LITTLE BOY HAPPY. . ...... 83 CHAPTER XVIII.— 1846-1849. A TERRIBLE CLOUD IN THE EAST THE DREAD SPECTRE OF CHOLERA IN THE DISTANCE IT STARTS FROM INDIA MAKES ITS WAY WEST- WARD REACHES NEW YORK AND OTHER AMERICAN CITIES VACATION SPENT AMONG THE X Contents. PAGE PATIENTS "god WILL TAKE CARE OF US, EITHER IN THIS WORLD OR THE NEXT " MAKING MEDICINE HAVE THE PREMONITORY SYMP- TOMS OF THE DISEASE STUMBLING OVER COF- FINS IN THE HALLS END OF THE HORRORS. . 87 CHAPTER XIX.— 1847- ASKED TO WRITE POEMS ON ALL SORTS OF SUBJECTS A DIRGE FOR DANIEL WEBSTER BEFORE HE WAS DEAD DEATH OF HENRY CLAy's SON POEM UPON THE SAME THE GREAT STATESMAN VISITS OUR INSTITUTION HIS PATHETIC AC- TIONS AND WORDS. . .... 94 CHAPTER XX.— 1848. GENERAL SCOTT VISITS US "a PORTION OF THE country's history" HIS POLITENESS AND CHIVALRY "war IS HELL" IN A MANNER ANTE- DATED CAPTURING GENERAL SCOTT WITH HIS OWN SWORD "waiting FOR THE NEXT PRESI- DENT" JAMES K. POLK VISITS US HIS AN- CESTRY DESERTING HIM TO GREET A SERVANT HIS KINDNESS AND CONSIDERATION. . . 99 CHAPTER XXL— 1848-1850. napoleon's faithful MARSHAL, BERTRAND A POEM OF WELCOME HOW HE WATCHED BONA- PARTE's life EBB AWAY LAURA BRIDGMAN, AND HER sweetness OF MAGNETISM JENNY LIND COMES AND SINGS TO THE BLIND STUDENTS HER GENEROSITY THE GREAT AND ONLY BARNUM ALICE GARY A POEM FROM FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL. . . . . 105 CHAPTER XXII.— 1850-1868. SECULAR SONGS CANTATAS MEET MR. BRAD- BURY ENGAGE TO WRITE HYMNS LIFE-WORK DISCOVERED A DREAM-VISION DEATH AND xi Contents. FA0E. FUNERAL OF MR. BRADBURY THE MYSTERIOUS VOICE NOM-DE-PLUMES. . . . -US CHAPTER XXIII.— 1853-1893. GROVER CLEVELAND AS A YOUNG MAN HIS GRIEF AT HIS father's DEATH HIS INDUSTRY AND DEVOTION TO HIS STUDIES DISPOSITION TO HELP OTHERS COPIES POEMS FOR ME UP- BRAIDED BY SUPERINTENDENT GROVER's AD- VICE SOME PLAIN PROSE NO MORE TROUBLE PLEASANT ACQUAINTANCE WITH HIM AFTER HE HAD SERVED AS PRESIDENT. . . . II9 CHAPTER XXIV.— 1893-1903. THE MAKING OF A HYMN THE " HYMN-WORK- SHOP " "moods" IN WRITING " BUILDING " A MOOD BEGINNING WITH PRAYER MEASURE AND TUNE WRITING TO AN AIR THE BOOKS OF THE MIND HYMNS WAITING FOR THEIR MATES. . . . . . . . -123 CHAPTER XXV.— 1900. A POEM BY WILL CARLETON. .... I30 CHAPTER XXVI.— 1843-1903. OLDEST AND NEWEST HYMNS .... 133 CHAPTER XXVIL— 1903. A POEM BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER. . . -152 CHAPTER XXVin.— 1903. LIVING AND LEARNING STILL THINGS "THEN" AND NOW FIRST RAILROADS FIRST TELE- GRAPH-WIRE TELEPHONES NEWSPAPERS THE MANY OTHER IMPROVEMENTS AND INVEN- TIONS — -A LIFE OF JOY AND SUNSHINE CON- TINUALLY MEETING OLD FRIENDS RESIDENCE IN BROOKLYN REMOVAL TO BRIDGEPORT "AS YOUNG AS WE FEEL" NO "INFIRMITIES OF age" HOPE TO BE A CENTENARIAN WILLING TO GO, WHEN THE LORD CALLS. . . . I55 xii CHAPTER I.— 1820-1825. INFANCY — BLINDED AT SIX WEEKS OF AGE — ^AM THANKFUL FOR IT NOW — PARENTS AND RELA- TIVES LONELY AMUSEMENTS — ASKING GOD FOR A CHANCE IN THE WORLD — HIS ANSWER — ^THE BELLIGERENT LAMB — DANIEL DREW'S ATTEMPTED PRESENT OF "STOCK." IT seemed intended by the blessed Provi- dence of God, that I should be blind all my life ; and I thank Him for the dispen- sation. I was born with a pair of as good eyes as any baby ever owned ; but when I was six weeks of age, a slight touch of inflamma- tion came upon them : and they were put under the care of a physician. What he did to them, or what happened in spite of him, I do not know, but it resulted in their permanent destruction, so far as seeing is concerned ; and I was doomed to blindness all the rest of my earthly existence. I have heard that this physician never ceased expressing his regret at the occurrence; and that it was one of the sorrows of his life. But if I could meet him now, I would say, "Thank you, thank you — over and over again — for making me blind, if it was through your agency that it came about !" 13 Fanny Crosby's Life-Story. This sounds strangely to you, reader? But I assure you I mean it — every word of it ; and if perfect earthly sight were offered me to-mor- row, I would not accept it. Did you ever know of a blind person's talking like this before? Why would I not have that doctor's mistake — if mistake it was — remedied? Well, there are many reasons : and I will tell you some of them. One is, that I know, although it may have been a blunder on the physician's part, it was no mistake of God's. I verily believe it was His intention that I should live my days in physical darkness, so as to be better pre- pared to sing His praises and incite others so to do. I could not have written thousands of hymns — many of which, if you will pardon me for repeating it, are sung all over the world — if I had been hindered by the distractions of seeing all the interesting and beautiful objects that would have been presented to my notice. Another reason is, that, while I am deprived of many splendid sights (which, as above men- tioned, might draw me away from the principal work of my life), I have also been spared the seeing of a great many unpleasant things. The merciful God has put His hand over my eyes, and shut out from me the sight of many in- stances of cruelty and bitter unkindness and misfortime, that I would not have been able to relieve, and must simply have suffered in seeing. I am content with what I can know of life through the four senses I possess, prac- tically unimpaired, at eighty-three years of 14 Birth and Parentage. age. Hearing, tasting, smelling, and feeling, are still felt, in their fullest degree. Another reason for my apparently strange assertion is, that I have been able to test and make sure so many kind and loving friends. Almost without exception, the great world has been good to me : all the kinder, perhaps, on account of what it considered my affliction. I may say truly that I never for a moment pre- sumed on my bhndness for any extra courtesy or advantage, yet I have often felt that it was a bond between sympathetic hearts and mine. I was born in Putnam County, N. Y., March 24, 1820. My father's name was John Crosby ; he died when I was very young. My grand- father fought in the War of 1812; my great- grandfather in the Revolution. My mother's given name was the good old-fashioned one of Mercy. I have always been proud at having been related, though not very nearly, to that fa- mous hero of the Revolution, Enoch Crosby. I have often sat when a little child, and Hstened to stories of his courage and heroism. Though he never came to be an officer, yet it was uni- versally admitted that he did the Revolutionary cause more good than many a gallant general. One of Cooper's most famous novels has him for its hero. He lies buried now, in a little country cemetery near Carmel, N. Y., with scores of my race sleeping around him. As a child, although blind, I was by no means helpless, or of a sedentary disposition: T indulged in manv of the sports enjoyed by 15 Fanny Crosby's Life-Story. my little playmates, and romped and clambered wherever they did. I could climb a tree or ride " a horse as well as any of them, and many good people when seeing me at play were surprised at being told of my ''misfortune." I attended school at times, but, of course, could not study : raised letters for the blind were not common then. One of my principal amusements was to sit with hands clasped, or engaged in some piece of work with needles, and listen to the many voices of Nature. The laughing and sighing of the wind — the sobbing of the storm — the rippling of water — the "rain on the roof" — the artillery of the thunder — all impressed me more than I can tell. I lived many lives with my imagination. Sometimes I was a sailor, standing at the mast-head, and looking out into the storm ; sometimes a general, leading armies to battle; then a clergyman, addressing large audiences and pleading with them to come to Christ; then the leader of a gigantic choir of voices, singing praises to God. My ambition w^as boundless ; my desires were intense to live for some great purpose in the world, and to make for myself a name that should endure; but in what manner was it to be done ? A poor little blind girl, without influential friends, could have as many ambitions as any one ; but how was she to achieve them ? What was there for her ? The great world that could see, was rushing past me day by day, and sweeping on toward the goal of its necessities and desires ; while I was left stranded by the i6 Comfort from Hymns, when a Child. wayside. "Oh, you cannot do this — because you are blind, you know; you can never go there, because it would not be worth while: you could not see anything if you did, you know" : — these and other things were often said to me, in reply to my many and eager questionings. Often, when such circumstances as this made me very blue and depressed, I would creep off alone, kneel down, and ask God if, though blind, I was not one of His children ; if in all His great world He had not some little place for me ; and it often seemed that I could hear Him say, "Do not be discouraged, little girl : you shall some day be happy and useful, even in your blindness." And I would go back among my associates, cheered and encouraged; and feeling that it would not be very long before my life would be full of activity and usefulness. And so it was, that gradually I began to lose my regret and sorrow at having been robbed of sight: little by little God's promises and consolations came throbbing into my mind. Not only the Scriptures, but the hymns that I heard sung Sabbath after Sabbath, made deep impressions upon me. With the ultra-acute hearing which gener- ally accompanies blindness, I could distinguish every word of the hymns, however indistinctly they might be sung; and they were in many cases a refreshment to my young souL Even in childhood, I began to wonder who made those hymns ; and if I myself could ever make one that people would sing. 17 Fanny Crosby's Life- Story. As already indicated, a growing, healthy girl, although she may be blind, cannot live entirely in her intellectual nature : and I did not lack means for my share of the regulation juvenile sports. I dare say I was as bother- some to my mother as are most children to theirs ; and was constantly asking for some novel way by which to amuse myself. One day she called me to her side, and said, "Here, Fanny, is a live toy : only be careful of it and not hurt it." It was a sweet, lovely pet lamb ! — and I seri- ously thought, for a day or two, of having my name changed to "Mary", of whom I had heard as once possessing a similar piece of property, and of smuggling the dear little pet away to some school, to see if the teacher would turn it out, and if it would then linger near, etc. I finally gave up the idea, but I played with my little quadrupedal toy morning, noon, and night: until at last the sturdy creature got into the habit of playfully butting me over, as one of its pastimes. Now came the first tragedy of my life : after maltreating me several times, and being promptly forgiven on each occasion by its lov- ing victim, the "lamb", which was now fast as- suming the proportions of sheephood, Became the subject of a star-chamber trial, and was condemned to death, and to punishment after death : to be cooked and eaten. Be sure most of it was done before I knew anything about it : else probably I should have raised the roof. The first T knew about it, I was told we were i8 Daniel Drew as a Drover. to have lamb-chop for dinner: and in the ominous silence that followed, I divined my favorite's fate. Tears and fasting followed, but they were of no avail: the belligerent little friend was no more. Daniel Drew, afterwards a celebrated rail- road magnate, but then a drover, dealing in an entirely different kind of stock, often passed our house with droves of sheep and cattle. We v/ere always great friends : and soon after the above-mentioned sad event, he came into our house and placed a small lamb in my arms, saying, ''Here, Fanny, is a present for you" ; but I had no heart then to accept it, and de- clined the gift, to his great surprise. 19 CHAPTER II.— 1825. A SLOOP-JOURNEY DOWN THE HUDSON — ACTING AS captain's first mate ^A PATRIOTIC SONG DRS. MOTT AND DELAFIELD GIVE AD- VERSE DECISION BLIND FOR LIFE ! THE SAD JOURNEY HOME WHAT THE WAVES SAID. ONE evening, when I was about five years old, my good mother called me to her from the dooryard, where I had been playing, and I ran to her side. As I say, it was evening, but that made no differ- ence with me : I could play in the night as well as daytime, and had no trouble in reach- ing her side, whether the candles were lighted or not. There were no kerosene lamps then, and people in the country had to de- pend for their light upon candles, made by dipping a wick of cotton repeatedly in melted tallow, until enough of it clung to the wick to make a ''body" for the apparatus; and when that was lighted it did not illuminate a house to any great extent. Well, my dear mother called me to her side, and said : "Fanny, I am going to take you on a little journey. We shall travel first in a wagon, till we come to the bank of a beautiful river, with mountains on each side of it ; then 20 In Pursuit of Sight. we shall get into a sail-boat and sail south for many miles ; then we shall come to a great city, larger than anything of which you have ever heard or thought, and stay there for several days ; and then home again." The idea of taking a journey filled me with joy, and I danced about the room with perhaps not enough attention to the furniture that kept getting in the way; but my transports were somewhat modified, when she explained the object of the expedition — to have a surgical operation performed upon my eyes. "There may be some pain with it, Fanny," she ex- plained : "but you are willing to bear it, are you not?" I already knew what pain was : — it is, alas ! one of the first things we learn in life ! and I shrank a little at the idea of any of it being inflicted upon me. "But, Fanny," my mother explained, "perhaps it will result in giving you your sight : so that you can see everything that is around you, and play with the rest of the children exactly as they do, study pretty pic- tures, and read interesting books, and enjoy yourself in a hundred ways that you do not, as your eyes are now." Then I was happy again. This was in 1825 ; and you may readily be- lieve that means of communication were not many and varied, in those days. There was not even a stage from our home or from near there, to any point upon the Hudson River. We started one morning before the early dawn was in the skies, and rode in a market- wagon to Sing Sing, on the Hudson, where 21 Fanny Crosby's Life-Story. we were to take a sloop for New York ; steam- boats were still very few and far between. This musically-named town, in which I thought every one, probably, belonged to the choir, was then a small country hamlet, straggling along the banks of the river — with no idea that it would ever bear such a prominent part in the punishment of the malefactors of a great commonwealth. So at four o'clock in the soft dawn of that summer morning, we unfurled our sails, and went rushing down the river toward the great metropolis. It is perhaps needless to say that the novel experience was a delight to me : I was all over the deck, and soon, I may safely say, in the good graces of everybody aboard. I could not of course view the beautiful scenery through which we were passing; but there were plenty of friends to describe it to me, and 1 enjoyed it upon the whole as much perhaps as if I could have seen, and as if I had had to depend entirely upon my own powers of obser- vation. I have always delighted in passing through beautiful scenery, and, indeed, enjoyed the sensation of traveling — perhaps more than some that can see ; and I find that other blind people are the same in this respect. My poor mother was at times seasick, or, more accurately expressing it, river-sick : but I kept well, and after knowing that she was comfortable in her berth, and being told that nobody ever died of that kind of sickness, and that she would be all the better for it soon, I was the gayest of the gay ; and Captain Green 22 A Popular Child-Vocalist. immediately adopted me as "first mate of the sloop." I was, I believe, called a fairly pretty child; and my black curls and frisky manners did not detract from the five-year-old disposi- tion that developed in me, to be the belle of the company. The dear old Captain pretended to discover that I was a great vocalist; and at times kept me busy singing all the little songs I had gath- ered up since old enough to learn and under- stand them. These were not very many or particularly deep; but they served. One of them I remember inaugurated itself with the following impressive lines, sung to a famous patriotic air: 'T wish I was a Yankee's wife, And then I would have somethin' : Every fall an ear of corn, And now and then a pumkinT I felt, even then, that there was something a little irregular in the rhyming of this stanza : but the Captain pretended to hold my song particularly in very high esteem, and whenever he was a little blue, called me to him and coaxed or hired me to sing it. With the usual thrift of the accomphshed cantatrice, I gradu- ally increased my prices as the article grew more and more in dem' nd ; and was very much disappointed when, a^ er gliding through the beautiful Highlands and past the impressive palisades, we arrived in the Big City. It was early in the morning when we landed, 23 Fanny Crosbys Life-Story. having been twenty-four hours in making the trip from Sing Sing — a journey that I have frequently performed since, by railroad, in fifty-five minutes. We went to the house of a friend who bore the good old name of Jacob Smith, at No. lo Roosevelt Street, a very fine place at that time ; and soon we were in the presence of the fa- mous Dr. Valentine Mott. 1 felt that Dr. Mott had a kind, pleasant face : singularly enough I have always been able to form a pretty accu- rate opinion of a countenance, by the voice that proceeded from it. Being but a Httle child, to whom one of God's creatures was about the same as another, except as they pleased or displeased me, I did not stand so much in awe of the great Dr. Mott ; but my mother did, and listened with bated breath to hear what he should say of my case. It was not the first time that poor mortals had hung upon his words ; for he was even then considered the foremost surgeon of his time. He occupied the chair of sur- gery in Columbia College, and had performed operations that no other practitioner ever dared to undertake. He had, seven years be- fore, placed a ligature around the brachio- cephalic trunk, or arteria innominata, only twG inches from the heart, for aneurism of the right sub-clavian artery; and that for the first time in the history of surgery. To be sure the patient died within a month ; but with the com- forting assurance that he had had something done to him with a knife, that no other patient 24 No Hope for my Eyes. had ever experienced. And as this was before the age of chloroform, or any other very ef- fective anaesthetics, death must certainly have been a relief. Well, Dr. Mott and another celebrated sur- geon at that time, named Dr. Delafield, ex- amined my eyes and told mxy tearfully-listening mother, that there was no hope for them : mal- practice had spoiled them. And so we re- turned to our country home — taking the sanie sloop and the same market-wagon as those in which we had come. The poor doctor who had spoiled my eyes, soon disappeared from the neighborhood ; and we never heard any more about him. He is probably dead, before this time ; but if I could ever meet him, I would tell him that he unwit- tmgly did me the greatest favor in the world. I was more thoughtful and sad on the way back up the river: the great doctor had not been above placing his fatherly hand on my head, and saying, "Poor little girl !"_ and that touch of sympathy went with me as I journeyed homeward. Hour after hour, when I had crept into my little "bunk" on the sloop, I heard the dear waves of the river singing to me, and telling me not to be discouraged. "Fanny, be brave ! Fanny, be brave !" they seemed to say : "brighter days will come yet!" And, indeed, they were coming: although from what direction I did not then know. But I never lost my faith in the great Father above ; I knew that the river-waves were His, and that I had heard His voice. 25 CHAPTER III.— 1830. BIBLE-INSTRUCTION MY FIRST POEM MY FIRST LITERARY ADMIRER HIS INABILITY TO CONCEAL HIS SENTIMENTS — A TERRIBLE THIRST FOR KNOWLEDGE — A PLEA FOR MEN- TAL LIGHT — god's goodness IN ANSWERING PRAYER. THE greatest piece of good fortune that attended me when a httle girl, was that I was taught the Bible — line upon line, and precept upon precept. When nine years old we moved to Ridgefield, Con- necticut, and there lived for a time in one of the numerous and intelligent Hawley families, of which Connecticut has so many, alid from one of which Senator Hawley sprang. Mrs. Hawley taught me the Bible, and the poetry of the day, in about equal portions. She was an old Puritan Presbyterian, and took everything in the sacred writ as literally as the most orthodox Scotchman could do ; but she loved at the same time the green meadows and singing brooks of imagination. Even when ten years old, I could recite the first four books of the Old and the first four books of the New Testament, without a mis- take ; and I knew secular poems almost with- 26 Child-Verses. out number. Of course, as soon as I began to hear poetry, it made me want to write some. 1 believe 1 am not entirely unique in this re- spect : editors tell me that their mail-bags teem with poetical attempts made by all sorts of people in all sorts of places and on all sorts of subjects. My first poem, composed when I was eight years old, was as follows : Oh, what a happy child I am, Although I cannot see ! I am resolved that in this world Contented I will be. How many blessings I enjoy That other people don't! So weep or sigh because I'm blind, I cannot, nor I won't ! I quote this poem, it is needless to say, not on account of its literary style, or as anything very remarkable, except that it gives an indi- cation of the spirit in which I have taken life throughotit all these eighty-three years — of optimism, and of thankfulness because I had as many blessings as I did, rather than of re- pining because one was left out. I composed other verses, and always on the subjects nearest me. The fragrance of a rose — The singing of the wind in the trees — the death of a favorite bird — all these inspired me to juvenile effort; and, anxious to hear what others thought of my work, it was not long be- 27 Fanny Crosby's Life-Story. fore I began to free these little stanzas from the leashes of my memory, and let them loose upon my poor dear mother. She wrote down some of them, and was greatly pleased ; she and the good IVTrs. Haw- ley held a literary consultation concerning them. They decided that they were very good, for a girl of that age ; and copies were sent to my grandfather. I now found my first gallant and unqualified admirer. The dear old gentleman wrote a very enthusiastic letter concerning the poor little ''pieces", and told my mother that we indeed had a poet in the family, and that if I lived and improved as I ought to do, I would be an honor to them all. "But," he added, cautious- ly, 'Vou must not fell her this, or it will make her proud, and spoil her." And it is due my mother's prudence and good sense, to say, that she never imparted to me anything about my grandfather's encomiums : but he soon saw me, and could not refrain from giving them to me at first hand. But there was one terrible hunger that af- flicted me during all these years : and that was for knowledge — knowledge — knowledge ! I felt that there were a million things that I ought to know, and had no means of learning. If I ever lamented that I was blind, it was through these opening days of girlhood — and that for only one cause : the fact that it de- barred me from reading for myself. The amount of literature printed in raised letters for the blind was very limited in those days, 28 Praying, Instead of Complaining. and I had been so accustomed to knitting, that my fingers were not adapted to learning how to read by such means, even if alphabets for the blind had been common. So, night and night again, I have gone to bed drearily, weeping because I could not drink of the waters of knowledge that I knew were surging all around me. I felt at times like a sailor on a great lake of fresh, crystal water, heated and thirsty, but bound hand and foot, so that he could not get to the blessed relief. ''Dear God, please give me light!" was my prayer, day by day. I did not mean physical light — but mental ! I had long been contented to bear the burden of blindness : but my edu- cation — my education — how was I to get it? The ordinary schools could do little for me; I was not able to read and educate myself, as many home-students have done; those around had little time to read to me ; and I felt as if I were in danger of growing more and more ignorant every day. God help those who thirst for knowledge, and find every way for obtain- ing it cut off! Sooner or later, I always rose from my knees feeling that these prayers would be answered. God has always had a way of granting my pe- titions to Him, some wonderful examples of which I shall give, farther along in this book. How much better it is to pray, hopefully and with faith, for those things we need, than to fret and complain because we do not already possess them ! 29 CHAPTER IV.— 1835. A THRILLING ANNOUNCEMENT — AN EDUCATION AT LAST ! — ON THE "tIPTOE OF EXPECTATION*' — STARTING FOR SCHOOL — ARRIVAL AT THE INSTITUTION FOR THE BLIND — A HELPER OF OPPRESSED GREEKS — AN ACQUAINTANCE OF LORD BYRON — SCHOOL-LIFE STARTS OFF WELL. SO matters ran on, until I was fifteen years old : and then, one day, something was told me that brought a thrill of joy and delight never, never to be forgotten. "Fanny, arrangements have been made for you to attend the school for the blind, in New York." Only a few words, but what a flood of joy they admitted to the poor sad little soul that had so long pined and prayed for knowledge ! God had responded to my prayer, at last — through His own means, and by His own faith- ful helpers. Oh, if the founders and sustainers of such institutions could only know a mil- lionth part of the joy they cause, they would feel repaid for their money and their efforts — again and again ! Of course, I was upon the very tiptoe of ex- pectation — my joy only tempered by the fact 30 Starting for School at Last! that I should have to leave behind my dear mother, and the friends whom I had learned to love. But the distance was not great, and, so to speak, was becoming less and less all the time, owing to constantly increasing facilities of travel; and I was told that I could return during every vacation, and oftener if I or they should at any time be ill. The preparations were few and simple : a girl then did not require so many appur- tenances when starting for school, as she does now. I was soon ready : and left home on the 3d of March, 1835 — searching, as upon my voyage of ten years before, for light — ^but this time for the mental, instead of the physical, light that should illuminate my mind, and make me happy ever after. This time, we did not go down the Hudson River, upon a sail-boat : we first journeyed to Norwalk, and there took a steamer for New York. This, although vastly dififerent from the mammoth sound-steamers of today, served the turn, and brought us through very comfort- ably : and I was cordially received by Dr. John Denison Russ, who was then Superintendent of the Institution. He was only thirty-four years old, but had already been through an interesting and varied experience. He had settled in New York as a physician after graduating at Yale College, but one year after- ward, in 1826, he was so moved with pity at the suflFerings of the struggling Greeks, that he went to their aid with a cargo of supplies, 31 Fanny Crosby's Life-Story. from Boston, and remained there three years, during which time he established a hospital at Poros, and conducted it personally for fifteen months. Returning to New York in 1834, he began at his own expense the instruction of six blind boys ; but the same year, w^as appointed Super- intendent of the Institution of which I was happily so soon to become an inmate. While in Greece, he had been intimately as- sociated with Lord Byron. I shall never forget the thrill of delight, upon meeting some one that had actually known the great poet, whose ■verses I had already learned to admire. He was full of reminiscences of the poet-patriot, and his recounting of them at times had a great fascination. Everything started off well: I was a little homesick at first, but frequent letters and new- made friends soon softened that feeling; while fresh facts and ideas were sent thronging every day into my mind. 32 CHAPTER v.— 1835-1836. SCHOOL-LIFE THE MONSTER ARITHMETIC AND ITS TERRORS METAL SLATES IN LOVE WITH OTHER STUDIES — "DROP INTO POETRY" NOW AND THEN — TEMPTATIONS TO VANITY — A BENEFICIAL ''cALL-DOWN" FROM THE SUPER- INTENDENT — ALL FOR MY OWN GOOD. BEHOLD me, now, Miss Fanny Crosby, full-fledged student, in a city school! I assure you, it seemed a great step forward — and upward — to me; one that I had coveted through many years ; one whose first joy I can never forget. Some young ladies creep off to boarding- school unwillingly, and as a solemn duty, and ma3^be I would do so, were I in their place; but under all these circumstances, the occur- rence was a great pleasure in my life, though for a time, as stated in the preceding chapter, I was a little homesick, and longed often to meet again my dear mother and friends. But the world seems built a good deal lilce the track of a hurdle-race : you are apparently skipping along at great speed, and all at once you encounter something that must be im- mediately overcome before you can go a step farther ! 33 Fanny Crosby's Life-Story. The first obstacle that I found standing in my way and looming up like a great monster, was Arithmetic. I have never been a very good hater, even when the best material was provided for the purpose; but I found myself an adept at the art of loathing, when it came to tlie Science of Numbers. The cuhnary poet who in a fit of dyspepsia exuded the statement "I loathe, abhor, detest, despise Those pastry-wrecks, dried apple pies", had a parodist in me. I could not agree with him concerning the article of food in question, for I like almost everything that a good cook can send to the table; but I could say, at that time, 'T loathe, abhor, it makes me sick To hear the word Arithmetic !" However, this great foe to my peace of mind had to be conquered, and at it I went, with a vengeance — wishing that every assault would give the Arithmetic a twinge of pain. But no ! I was well aware of the fact that the sturdy old creature went right on, without minding me at all, through all the affairs of life, and that we could not do much of anything very long, without consulting him. The great variety of resources that this ter- rible study possessed with which to frighten and appal the student, was something terrible to contemplate. Addition and Subtraction went on fairly well, and did not give me so very much trouble ; but when the Multiplication 34 We Study by Listening, Table made its appearance on the scene, that was an entirely different matter. The only alleviation of its miseries was, that it came in a kind of poetical form — a swinging, rhymeless sort of poetry, to be sure — blank verse, I should call it; but that fact, as with many other students, aided me to remember it. Our toil in Arithmetic was materially aided by metal slates, which had holes in them, with which we could count and realize the numbers as we went on. But I never became an ac- complished mathematician, although our school upon the v/hole was said to be much more advanced in mathematics than students of the same age that could see. Grammar, Philosophy, Astronomy, and Po- litical Econom}^ followed, among our studies . and with all of these I was in love. Our les- sons were given us in the form of lectures and readings, and not many words that came to our ears managed to slip away from us. Indeed, we could not afford to let them do so ; for we were closely examined each day by m^ans of questions asked by the teachers, and our pro- gress and standing in the school depended largely upon our ability to remember and re- count these lessons. Noticing the respect and deference paid to our instructors, and realizing how much more personal independence they had, feeling that I wanted to be financially as self-reliant as possible, and most of all wishing to please, comfort, and help my dear mother, I made up my mind to be a teacher, as soon as I could. 35 Fanny Crosby's Life-Story. Nor did I forget the other friends of my babyhood and youthhood — especially the dear, gallant old grandfather who had so en- thusiastically announced that ''we had a poet in the family." I composed several little poems from time to time, which, it is no more than fair to say, were received with great favor, by both teachers and fellow-pupils. In the mind of a girl in her ''teens", this would naturally produce a little feeling of self-gratu- lation, and it is possible that in my appearance or behavior, an "air" or two appeared. Perhaps Mr. Jones, the Superintendent at that time, noticed it : for one morning he came into the school-room, and said, "I would like to have Fanny Crosby come into my room for a few minutes." I went, readily enough ; supposing that a new ode or other kind of lyric was to be or- dered, to the honor of some distinguished per- son or event : and, perhaps, a little proudly, stood before the Superintendent, at his desk, awaiting his wishes, and hoping that I could find time, among my other duties, to accord to them. His very first words were a most emphatic surprise, and fully disposed of my theory that I was to write a new poem by request. "Fanny," he said, "your — your attempts at poetry, have brought you into prominence here in the school, and a great deal of flattery has been the result. Shun a flatterer, Fanny, as you would a snake ! Now, I am going to give you some clean 36 Some First-Class Advice. truth, which may hurt just now, but will be of great use one of these days. ''As yet, you know very little about poetry, or, in fact, anything else — compared to what there is to be known. You have almost all of it yet to learn. "Do not think too much about rhymes, and the praises that come for them. Store your mind with useful knowledge and think more of what you can be, than of how you can appear. "The favor and laudation of the world, Fanny, is a very fragile thing upon which to depend. Try to merit the approval of God, and of yourself, as well as that of your fellow- creatures. "Remember that the very air you breathe— the very food you eat — all the ability or talent that you may develop — come from God. "Remember that you are always in His pres- ence: and who has any right to be vain for a moment, when standing before the great Owner and Creator of all things ?" He talked to me in this way, kindly but firm- ly, for perhaps five minutes ; and at the end of that time he had convinced me that instead of being the great poet Fanny Crosby, I was really the ignorant young school-girl, who as yet knew scarcely anything whatever. His words were bomb-shells in the camp of my self-congratulatory thoughts : but they did me an immense amount of good. Something said to me, "He tells the truth, Fanny, and it is all for your own benefit." Still, the hot tears came to my eyes, as per- 37 Fanny Crosby's Life-Story.- haps they would have done to those of any ambitions girl: and I naturally felt much pain and mortification at his words. But a reaction of feeling soon took place: and going around behind his chair, and putting m}^ arms around his neck, I kissed him on the forehead. "You have talked to me as my father would have talked, were he living," I said, ''and I thank you for it, over and over again. You have given me a lesson that I might have had to learn through bitter experience, and I shall profit by it." And I believe I have done so : at least I have tried, through all these eighty-three years. I have done my best to remember that not my poor insignificant self, but the great God above, was entitled to the credit for whatever I could accomplish ; and to keep the monster Egotism from coming up between my duty and me. If in this autobiography, in which I am try- ing to give a true story of my life, the pro- noun of the first person singular number is too often used, the reader must forgive : it is be- cause it is unavoidable, and not because it is in my hearts CHAPTER VL— 1835-1858. INCITEMENTS TO AMBITION GREAT PEOPLE WHO WERE BLIND — THE IMMORTAL HOMER — THE KING-POET OSSIAN— JOHN MILTON AND HIS GENIUS — FRANCIS HUBER, THE NATURAL- IST — OTHERS WHOSE CAREERS GAVE US EN- COURAGEMENT. AMONG the interesting things that we were taught in our Institution, at the very outset, was the fact that scores and hundreds of individuals had achieved fame and fortune, in spite of bhnd- ness. ,~- We were told about Homer, the greatest poet of antiquity, who, while traveling to get ma- terial for his immortal work, contracted a dis- ease of the eyes, which made him blind for- ever: but who worked away with renewed ardor; and who, although he died poor, achieved an immortal fame — such as many people would be willing to go blind all their lives, if they could attain. We were told of Ossian, the Celtic king — who, it is said, was a warrior while he could see, but became a poet after he was stricken with blindness, and sung songs that made him famous forever. Indeed, we were told that 39 Fanny Crosby's Life-Story, his very existence was disputed by some critics: but, for that matter, the same experi- ence had befallen the names of Homer, Virgil, Julius Caesar, and WiUiam Tell. There seemed fully as much reason to believe that he existed, as that he did not ; and, as he was, in a manner, one of us, we preferred to take the affirmative of the question. We were told of Milton, who lost his eye- sight from a disease caused by incessant study while he was young: but who, as the light of this world became gradually shut out, grew more and more luminous himself, with sacred lore and imagination. As we heard of the daughters who read to him, and wrote down his grand lines, and who, alas! did not seem always to appreciate the great privilege, many of us girls felt that if we could only have had our sight and assisted such a grand man as that, we would have asked not a single addi- tional pleasure in the world ! Of course we were all proud of Francis Huber, who, notwithstanding the cataracts that grew over his eyes, and blinded him at last, became the historian and biographer of those swift-winged messengers between flower and flower, and garden and hive — the bees. Within his mind he seemed to have construct- ed a great hive of learning, wherein he sorted, arranged, and made use of the facts that others brought him. He had patience to analyze and compare the different experiments that were made under his direction and that of others— which qualities he might have lacked or never 40 Anything — With God's Help! have developed, if he had been "favored" with the power of seeing. Added to these illustrious names, were given us many who had not climbed to the very top round of fame, but who, although blind, had accomplished more than the aver- age degree of success, in their various callings. Science, mechanics, the "learned professions", and all the miscellaneous pursuits, we found had been ornamented, to a greater or less ex- tent, by the blind. With this, we were taught that whatever we determined to do, if within the average power of man or woman, we could, with God's help, do — the same as if we had the blessing^s of sight : and at it we went with a wilL 'b)' 41 CHAPTER VII.— 1835-1858. VACATIONS PUPILS WHO ENJOY AND PUPILS WHO DO NOT ENJOY THEM — AWAITED EACH TIME BY MOTHER AND SISTERS— CANDY AND FLOWERS SAVED UP — EXCURSIONS — SWEET INQUISITIVENESS AN ENTHUSIASTIC AUDI- ENCE — SISTERS STILL SPARED. MONG pleasant school-memories, the vacations are likely to bear a promi- nent part. However well a student may love the studies and the discipline of scholastic life, occasional seasons of rest are generally anticipated with keen relish. 1 say "generally", because, alas ! there are always more or less in every school, who have no pleasant homes to which they can go. Few students are so to be pitied, as are these : others' delight, contrasted with their own lone- liness, makes their lot peculiarly hard to bear. It is one of the numerous blessings which our dear Lord has showered upon me, that I have the most beautiful and winsome of vaca- tion-recollections. Not only my dear and precious mother, but two younger sisters al- ways awaited me with many expressions and other manifestations of delight, and made the occasional home-comings trebly pleasant. Vacation-Delights, At the coming of vacation, I always has- tened home as soon as possible : and invariably found that a royal reception had been reserved and kept in readiness for "Sister Fan." It was touching to know that the dear little tots had been exercising their ingenuity to its full- est extent, to make their "big sister" feel the deliciousness of the home that she could not see. Sundry bits of candy that had been reso- lutely saved up for many weeks were slipped into my hand; flowers of every kind were brought me, with their fine velvety blossoms and rich delicate fragrance. Excursions were planned, to the shadiest of nooks and the most deHghtful of forests; and often to the homes of dear friends, who received us with unaffect- ed kindness. And the questions that I had to answer! Each little sister had a set entirely of her own, and all had to be duly considered faithfully answered, before the little cross-examiners were satisfied. Of course it was a pleasure to tell everything to such attentive and apprecia- tive listeners : and 1 fully availed myself of the chance. Every pupil in the school had to be duly described; the teachers, with their various pe- culiarities, all came in for a share of the exami- nation. Then there were the distinguished visitors that had favored our Institution with their calls : these all had to be reviewed in due course. How often do I remember that small family-group : the two little sisters snuggling up to me and clinging to my hands, and my 43 Fanny Crosby's Life-Story. mother sitting close by, and listening to it all with an indulgent smile, which I could feel though I could not see! Of course every poem that I had composed since I saw them before, had to be duly re- cited, and subjected to their criticism. This, however, I am bound to say, was generally favorable, to a degree that bordered on enthu- siasm; and it would not have been exactly comfortable for any one rash enough to have intimated to them that their big sister was not the greatest poet of ancient and modern times ! Of course I knew that they would know better, when they became older; but their sweet childish partiality still lingers in my memory, like the fragrance of sweetest flowers. It has been my blessed privilege to have these sisters spared to me : one of them, Mrs. Carrie W. Rider, is now my daily companion, and loving protector; while the other, Mrs. Julia Athington, is a near neighbor to us. 1 also have several nephews and nieces, at whose homes I am always welcome : and many sweet little vacations are still spent with them. While nearly all humanity, so far as 1 have met it, has treated me as a dear sister, there is yet a peculiar and intense pleasure, in feeling that my own near relatives are so loving and congenial. I am sure the reader will pardon this little digression into family matters : they are a part of me, and necessarily form a portion of mv autobiography. 44 CHAPTER Vril.— 1836-1837. BLIND STUDENTS, ALSO, HAVE "sPORTIVE" MOODS — SOCIALS, MUSICALES, AND SOIREES — HAZING — TENDER ATTACHMENTS — "iNNO- CENT" THEFTS A WATERMELON ADVEN- TURE—DEAR MR. STEVENS' FIFTEEN-MINUTE NAP—A GOOD LAUGH OVER THE AFFAIR. LIND Students, as well as others, have their merry and sportive moods. They can "see" a joke, just as well as if they were not debarred from physical sight; and many are the "games" that they perpetrate upon each other. It may readily be surmised, then, that our amusements in the Institution were many and varied ; and that we indulged in most of the pleasant little plays and other diversions that vary the monotony of "seeing" school-people. Our socials, musicales, and soirees, were largely frequented by friends from outside, as well as by those of our own number. Even the cruel process of "hazing" was not always left out of our school-life, although, of course, it was constantly discouraged by the teachers, and the more orderly of the pupils. I suppose we considered ourselves entitled to all the privileges of other schools ! 45 Fanny Crosby's Life-Story, Of course, the Institution being co-educa- tionaly more or less "tender attachments", of greater or less duration, were formed: and in these cases, love often laughed at oculars, as well as locksmiths. The chapel was a favorite place for short '"spooning" seasons, and several students who could manipulate the piano, had preconcerted chords which they struck, or tunes which they played, to let each other know that they were there, and waiting for an interview. Now and then an innocent theft occurred. One in which I am half ashamed to confess I was interested, took place one evening in the garden. The teachers and students had culti- vated a fine lot of vegetables : and among them we knew that there were some luscious water- melons, and our mouths naturally watered for a share. All at once, a rumor was circulated that these melons were to be sold for the benefit of the school ! Whereat, a quiet consternation- meeting was held, and we decided that, when it came to what we considered as partly our own melons, there were different ways of bene- fiting the Institution. A few of us decided to have at least one of the largest of the juicy oblong globes, that very night. I was only eighteen years old, then, and may be pardoned for relishing an adventure that savored somewhat of the madcap variety. Taking with me into the garden one of the smaller girls, I concealed her as well as I could (for it was a moonlight night), told her 46 Not a Single Boy in Sight. to hang on for dear life to a large watermelon that presented itself, and started out to do a little reconnoitering with the senses of touch and hearing. Ah ! a step ! — I knew it right well : it was that of Mr. Stevens, the gardener, ''Why, Mr. Stevens!" I exclaimed: "yo^ here? — How do you happen to be walking up and down at this hour of the night?" "I'm watching out for some of them miser- able boys that's tryin' to steal the melons", said the kind but reliable old gentleman. "I'll catch 'em, yet." "Don't you want me to watch awhile for you, Mr. Stevens?" I inquired, demurely. "You go in and rest : your voice sounds tired. Go and sit down for fifteen minutes, and I'll stay out here, and watch for you. And de- pend upon it, if a single boy comes, I'll let you know." Saying this, I led the dear old gentleman in- doors, seated him in an easy chair, placed my cool hand on his brow to soothe him a little, and told him to sit there and rest, while I would go on watch for a quarter of an hour. Then I went back to my little stowaway in the garden. "Take the melon, if you're big enough, and run for our room as soon as you can !" I whis- pered. She needed only one set of directions ; and girl and melon were soon quite a distance away. At the end of the fifteen minutes, I went back to Mr. Stevens, and told him that not a boy had been near ; and, having by this time 47 Fanny Crosby's Life-Story. enjoyed a good rest and a quiet little nap, he went back to his vigil, first thanking me for my help. When I returned to the room, the dissected fruit was all ready to be still further dissected : and we enjoyed it all the better for the mild little adventure. A few years afterward, I told the Superin- tendent about it, and we enjoyed a hearty laugh together over the incident. "To think how 3^ou blind children were all the while get- ting the start of us 'seeing' people !" he chuckled. As for good Mr. Stevens, the gardener, he had then gone on where, it is to be hoped, wicked boys and girls do not molest, and where watermelons would not be particu- larly refreshing. 48 LATEST PHOTOGRAPH. CHAPTER IX.— 1836-1842. "strenuous" work — HOW A BLIND PERSON CAN TOIL, INTELLECTUALLY BECOME ONE OF THE TEACHERS — THE 'VlTCHING SPRITE" OF POETRY FORBIDDEN TO COMPOSE ANY POETRY FOR THREE MONTHS — PHRENOLOGY TO THE RESCUE ! I THINK it may be said truly that I toiled night and day. ''How can a blind person work intellectually?" — do you ask? Bet- ter perhaps than one that can see. It is not necessary for us to record in writing as we go along, everything we think and accomplish : we can put it upon the tablets of memory, and copy it down or have it copied as we get op- portunity. Memory, when cultivated, grows a wonderful treasure-house of ripened grain. I do not want to boast of my progress ; but as I look back over the past, it gives me a little feeling of pride to be able to say that at the rather early age of twenty-two, I was consid- ered competent to teach Grammar, Rhetoric, and Ancient and Modern History ; and became one of the regular instructors of the Institu- tion. What a pleasure it then was, to feel that I was imparting to others the same blessings of 49 Fanny Crosby's Life-Story. knowledge for which I had longed, through so many weary days and nights ! While preparing for this position, there was still one restless, witching little sprite that kept creeping up to me by night and day, and in- viting me to take trips with her into the un- known ; and the name of that sprite was Poetry. She was ever tugging away at my hands, or my hair, or my heartstrings, and whispering, "Sister Fanny, come with me." The faithful Superintendent seemed in doubt whether to encourage me in my poetical pur- suits or not. He finally talked to me a long while on the subject, said there were a great many people who wrote rhymes because thev were poetry-lovers rather than poets, and finally gently but firmly forbade my producing any more of the dangerous article, for three months. I did not understand his object in doing this : but suppose now that it was to see if a certain amount of abstinence would not cure me of the habit, or disease, whichever he considered it. I did not Hke it, "a little bit"; but, feeling that the good Superintendent knew what was best for me, I acquiesced, and religiously avoided a rhyme as I would the measles. It w^as one of the trials of my life : for, whether or not I would *'lisp in numbers", they inevitably "came." Singularly enough I soon gained my little tri- umph in the matter ; for about this time we had a visit from Dr. George Combe, a distinguished phrenologist, of Scotland. Dr. Combe had 50 A Boy-Mathematician. found himself a convert to the science, in Edin- burgh, while Spurzheim was there; and had published several works on the subject. When he came to America, he "took in" our school, among the other sights ; and several of us had the honor of feeling the touch of his learned hand upon our throbbing, and, I trust, not distended heads. Just before he came to me, he examined the phrenological organs of one of our boy-pupils, "Why, here is a splendid mathematician I" he exclaimed. "He could do anything in mathe- matics !" And the Doctor was right ; for this little fellow was almost another Zera Colburn. He could already do a great many wonderful things : for instance, he could listen to two per- sons talking to him at the same time, and then, while singing a song, could inform both of them the number of seconds they were old — they of course first giving him the years, weeks, and months. (I used to notice, by the way, that very few ladies availed themselves of the ofifered courtesy.) When I heard the boy praised, and reflected on those wonderful things he could do, I was almost envious, and wondered why the good Lord could not have given me a few of the figures and groups of figures that seemed to line every portion of his brain. I trembled when my turn came to have the head examined, and felt a wild impulse to run. Dr. Combe said, "Why ! here is a poet ! Give her every ad- vantage that she can have; let her hear the 51 Fanny Crosby's Life-Story. best books and converse with the best writers , and she will make her mark in the world." The next morning our Superintendent sent for me to come to his room. ''Fanny," he ex- claimed, 'Vou may write all the poetry you want to." From that time, the advice of Dr. Combe was followed : I was prompted to write poetry, was taught how lines should rhyme, and in every way encouraged. And I am bound to say that for a great part of this favorable de- cision as regarded the wooing of my muse, I was indebted to Phrenology, and the good Dr. Combe. 52 CHAPTER X.— 1842-1843. DR. combe's endorsement IS OF BENEFIT— THE "poet laureate'* OF THE INSTITUTION — taught how to write poetry — hamilton Murray's aid~a reunion after sixty- five years' absence. iROM the time that good Dr. Combe proclaimed me a poet, I was so^ con- sidered by my teachers and associates ; and they "knew then that they had known the fact from the first." But it takes a certain amount of outside endorsement to make even our best and nearest friends appre- ciate us; and this I had heretofore lacked. It was for the famous Scotch Phrenologist to set me, if I can say it without being suspected of a pun, upon my poetical feet. I was now, 1 think it may be said without vanity, considered as the poet laureate of our Institution; and the teachers evidently deter- mined to make a first-class writer of me, if cul- tivation could do it. I was taught all the in- tricacies of verse, until I began to wonder that the subject which I had considered as a very Simple, easy sort of thing, had so many com- plications. I was taught to analyze, to parse, to scan, to write in different measures ; and be- 53 Fanny Crosby's Life-Story. gan to worry lest I should disappoint the high expectations that the phrenologist had raised. Among the most potential aids I received at the time, was that from a gentleman named Hamilton Murray. Mr. Murray claimed that he could not write poetr}^, but could teach others how to do so; and as pupils in that branch of study were not numerous, he seemed to take especial pleasure in giving me prosodi- cal instruction. He had a poetic temperament, and a fine rich voice : and hour after hour he would read me some of the grandest poems he could find in English literature. This, as you may readily imagine, was a lux- urious feast: and a benefit. Mr. Murray also encouraged me to imitate, as nearly as I could, the different poetical masters of that day — as Bryant, Willis, etc. He pointed out, with much delicacy, the different defects in my literary style, and tried his best to remove them. With rare faithfulness, and with much kindness, con- sidering that his pupil was not a rich man's daughter, but a poor blind girl just starting in life, he toiled for my benefit; and though I could not pay him in money, he had my heart- felt gratitude. He has long walked the streets of the great Tuneful City: and I hope some day to meet him there, grasp him by the hand, and thank him once more. Not long ago, I had the pleasure of meeting his nephew, Mr. Bronson Murray, of New York : whom I had also known at that time. He was of about my own age, and from him I had always received the most gentle and manly 54 Old Friendships Draw Compound Interest, courtesies. We now met again for the first time in sixty-five years : and th6 reminiscences that were awakened, may be readily imagined. Seldom have I enjoyed a visit so much. How do these old friendships draw com- pound interest, as the years go on ! And what a grand treat it will be, in the next world, to meet all those whom we have known and loved here, and talk over the events of the past ! 55 CHAPTER XL— 1842-1845. MUSICAL DIVERSIONS FOR THE BLIND—NEIGH- BORLY CALLS SOIREES — WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT VISITS US — HIS KINDNESS TO THE GIRL-POET — TWO VISITS WITH HORACE GREE- LEY — SHOWING PEOPLE ABOUT THE INSTITU- TION — HOW THE BLIND "FIND THE WAY TO THEIR MOUTHS." E had fine music in our school; for as is well known, some of the Best musicians in the world come from among the blind. Indeed, an aug- mented delicacy of hearing generally com- pensates for loss of sight. We often had "musical soirees", and invited our neighbors in the city : and one evening we were electri- fied by the intelligence that the great William Cullen Bryant was commg as one of our guests ! Bryant was at that time the best-known American poet. Longfellow had not then writ- ten the books upon which hang most of his fame; Whittier was yet known rather as an Anti-Slavery agitator than as a v>^riter of verse ; and Willis, though a brilliant author and trav- eler, was obliged to yield to his older and more finished contemporary. 56 William Ciillen Bryant; Horace Greeley. Bryant had composed at twenty-three his "Thanatopsis", the sweetest apology for Death in any language (I wonder if that was the rea- son Death finally spared him so long?). He had with his other poems attracted the attention and commanded the admiration of the world ; had traveled extensively in Europe; and had now (1843) settled down for a time in editorial work. As was the case almost wherever he went, he was obliged to hold a little impromptu recep- tion at our soiree ; and among those that were introduced to him, was poor little timid I, who had very little hope that he would greet me otherwise than conventionally, and as a stranger of whom he had never heard before. To my surprise, however, he gave me a warm grasp of the hand, commented upon my poor little rhythmical efforts, commended them in a tone that I felt to be sincere, and told me to go on bravely and determinedly with my work. He never knew how much good he did, by those few words, to the young girl that had hardly hoped to touch the hem of his proud robe of poetic genius ! At a children's party on New Year's, 1844, I met for the first time Horace Greeley. He was then only thirty-three years old; had come to New York a journeyman printer, and fought his way into recognition. He had already founded the 'Tribune", and, of course, to meet him was an event. But I must say that I at first was disappoint- ed in him : perhaps I expected too much. "Is 57 Fanny Crosby's Life-Story. that the great Horace Greeley?" I pondered, after hearing him talk. I had never been able to read any of his editorials, but concluded, in my inexperience, that if they were no more brilliant than his conversation, the world was making a queer mistake in honoring him. I did not understand, at that time, as I have learned since, that great men have widely vary- ing moods, and that they are at one time si- lently gathering up that which at another they dispense so lavishly. The following summer I happened to meet him at the house of a mutual friend; and a more charming and intelligent conversation- alist, I never heard. History, literature, social ethics, political economy — all subjects — seemed perfectly natural and easy to him; and no one else wished to talk, so long as he could be kept talking. Of course, being human, I did not admire him one whit the less, when he insisted on my reciting to him some of my little poems, praised them, and invited me to write for his paper ! I hardly knew whether I walked or flew to my room that night : I was so proud at having been recognized as a poet by such a great genius as Horace Greeley ! On another occasion, during that same year, I remember feeling equally proud; and that was when I heard that my gallant old grand- father, who had been so enthusiastic in praising my juvenile abilities and so anxious that I should not be spoiled, wrote that he walked four miles to get a paper that had in it a poem 58 Queer Questions by Visitors. written by me, and felt well paid for his trouble ! Our little Institution of one hundred and fifty students was under State control and pat- ronage, and the Government naturally took much interest in it, and sent us as maniy in- terested visitors as it could. Institutions for the benefit of the blind were not so common as they are now, and we were quite objects of curiosity. The visitors, having read my poems in the different papers, where they had been published and republished, sometimes asked to be shown about the place by me. It was, in a manner, the blind leading those that were not blind; but I knew every inch of the estab- lishment, almost as well as if I could see. For a time, this piloting was a pleasant nov- elty; but, of course, it finally grew a little irk- some to answer the same questions again and again, and I became quite willing to depute the pleasure to others. One bright boy, who had been guiding a large party of ladies and gentlemen through the rooms and halls, report- ed that they had asked him as they entered the dining-room, how blind people managed to find the way to their mouths while eating. ''What did you tell them?" we inquired. ''I informed them," said the blind boy, gravely, "that we hitched one end of a string to the leg of our chair, and the other to our tongue; and by that means managed to prevent the victuals losing their way." The teachers gently reproved him ; but I had opportunity to know, that they laughed over the queer little episode, many times, afterward. 59 CHAPTER XII.— 1843. A TRIP ON "the raging CANAWL" — ITS WON- DERS AND ITS DELIGHTS — THROUGH THE MO- HAWK VALLEY AND AWAY TOWARD THE LAKES — AN EXPECTED FUNERAL PROCESSION TURNS INTO A **CIRCIS" — ENTERTAINMENTS ALL ALONG THE WAY — MAYORS OF TOWNS PRESIDE — BLIND AND SEEING PEOPLE COME FROM ALL DIRECTIONS — BUFFALO AND NI- AGARA FALLS ARE REACHED. ONE of the most enjoyable trips I ever took in connection with our Institu- tion for the Blind, was — not in a daintily upholstered palace car- — not in a finely appointed and swiftly gliding ocean- steamship — not in an exquisitely poised and jauntily driven mountain coach — but — strange to say ! — upon a canal-boat. Railroads were not bewilderingly plenty, in those days, as they are now; and it had not occurred to anybody that it would be desirable to build one along the valley of the Mohawk River, and then away off still westward — ^west- ward — to Buffalo — to Chicago — to the very Pacific Ocean itself! If any one had told us that such a thing would happen, "one of these days'', we would have considered him as one 60 Longest Canal in the World. of the blind who was trying to lead the blind. But, largely through the energy and perse- verance of Governor DeWitt Clinton, an arti- ficial river had been stretched from the Hudson to Lake Erie ; and few that are living now, can comprehend what a convenience and help to the country was this great highway of waves. Miniature ships — propelled by horses and mules, carrying great boat-loads of merchan- dise up and down through the country, may still be seen, by passengers on the New York Central Railroad trains, from the windows of its fast-flying coaches ; and they think little of them. But in those days they were among the principal commercial institutions of the coun- try. When the Erie Canal was opened, Gover- nor Clinton, who had dug the first spadeful of earth in the construction of the giant channel, was greeted, on his first trip, all along the line, with the ringing of bells, and the firing of can- non, and more or less eloquent speeches wherever he would stop long enough to hear them. It would be interesting if one could know how many people thronged the banks of the Erie Canal, during those days of triumph, to see Governor Clinton go past ! One who from curiosity or other reason visits the crafts employed nowadays, can form little idea of the elegance with which passenger, or "packet" boats were fitted up, in those days. Many people preferred traveling in them, even when on business, to using stage-coach or car- riage ; and a long boat-ride, through the finest 6i Fanny Crosby's Life-Story. of scenery, among pleasant people, without jolting, and surrounded with the comforts of every-day life — was not half unenjoyable. So we had, as it were, our "private car", all to ourselves ; and were not long in taking pos- session of, and appropriating it. The crew, consisting of captain, driver, and maid, met us rather coldly, when we came on board, and acted as if they were afraid of us; but they soon found out, as they expressed it, that we'd '*do." They explained, after getting acquaint- ed, that they had supposed we would be a quiet, sad, sober,' melancholy lot of people, moping about with grief on our faces, the constant burden of whose song was, "I'm blind, oh, I'm bhnd." Without wishing to recommend too highly the vivacity of my companions and myself, I may say, that they revised their opinions, with- in about five minutes after we got on board. They found that we were inclined to enjoy life in every way that solid instruction and inno- cent amusement could give. It was not long before we knew our temporary aquatic guard- ians "as well as if we'd been through 'em with a lantern", as the captain luminously ex- pressed it. We were all over the boat in a jiffy, and knew every nook and corner of it before the expedition started. "Well, you're a rum lot. Miss Crosby", the Captain confided to me, in one of our first conversations : "an' it's the jolliest crew I ever shipped. To tell the truth, I dreaded you, an' expected to strike a sort of fun'ral percession, the hull length of 62 A "Shozir-Trip. the big ditch; but I guess it's goin^ to be a circis, all the way, an' a good one." It was not a ''circis" all the way, for there came times when we were very sober, staid, and circumspect; but we could not resist the exhilarating air of the hill-regions through which we passed, or the genial sunshine, or the smell of the flowers, or the cheery hail of boat- men and passengers whom we met along the moist way. We soon learned the construction of the locks, and how it was that our boat ran into the large basin and waited till that was filled or emptied, as the case might demand, in order to get us on the level required; and after the novelty of that was over, we often ran ahead on the tow-path, accompanied by one of our "seeing" teachers, and had a nice little bit of exercise before our steady-going craft overtook us. We stopped at all towns of any size on the way, such as Schenectady, Rome, Utica, Syra- cuse, Rochester, as well as many others, and gave entertainments. I may say, without ex- aggeration, that these affairs were the events of the evening, if not of the week and month, in the vicinity where we appeared. The Mayor would generally preside ; and give us as fine a speech of welcome as he had time to prepare. The Common Council, or Board of Aldermen, and other distinguished people, were very likely also to sit upon the platform ; while hundreds if not thousands of the citizen-rank-and-file were down in front. What with our singing, addresses, descrip- 63 Fanny Crosby's Life-Story. tions of our school, recitations, and such ora- torical and musical help as we managed to borrow from local talent, we flattered ourselves that we made a pretty good ''show", as we used playfully to call it; and we were always overwhelmed with praises, and invitations to "come again." Besides this, we generally netted a snug little sum for the Institution: although the main object of the excursion was the rousing of public interest in our educational work. After a day or two of rest in a town, meet- ing kind friends, partaking of splendid hospi- tality, encouraging sightless people who heard of and came to us from all directions — we would set sail again, and start for the next ''stand" — delighted to get back again to our dear old canal-boat — containing, as Dr. Holmes used to say, "many of the pleasures of navigation, with none of its perils." And so we went on and on — till at last Buf- falo was reached, and after arriving there we were not long in making a pilgrimage to the great Niagara Falls. 64 CHAPTER XIIL— 1843. MIAGARA FALLS VISITED WHAT THE BLIND STUDENTS "saw" OF IT TABLE ROCK STANDING UPON GOAT ISLAND — THE POOR OLD ANIMAL FOR WHICH IT WAS NAMED STORIES OF THE "OLDEST INHABITANTS" TELLING ABOUT IT TO THOSE WHO "cOULDN'T GO." WHEN our canal-party had left its boat-home and extended its pil- grimage to the great Niagara Falls, we felt as if one of the great days of our life had come. "But what could you see of the Falls ?" some one asks. Much more than you would sup- pose, dear friend ! Seeing is not all done with the optical organs. Besides, we had in our school learned all about this gigantic plunge of four great lakes one hundred and sixty-four feet, into the rocky gulfs below; we had seen it over and over again with our imaginations ; and knew well what was going on (or, rather, off) before us. As we stood upon Goat Island, and one of our teachers described the Horseshoe Falls and other famous localities in his view, I could almost fancy I heard the morning stars singing together, and the sons of God shouting for joy ! 65 Fanny Crosby's Life-Story. I could imagine those great rocks that had stood for ages, while the river-billows went sweeping over them night and day, summer and winter, through century after century. I could at that time perceive enough of light and color (although as ever unable to distin- guish objects), to appreciate somewhat the opulence of hue that leaped and flowed around us ; though of late years, even that power has departed from me, and if I should stand upon the borders of that great tossing precipice to- day, even in the midst of the most brilHant sunshine, I could not get even a fragment of the wonderful chromatic feast. But I cotild still hear the trumpet-voice of this king of cataracts, proclaiming the power of the Almighty hand; I could feel the fresh breezes that spring from the bosom oi the whirling waters ; I could (sweetest thought of all) enjoy the enjoyment of my friends who could see, and listen to their animated descrip- tions. Indeed, I sometimes think that blind people see more than their friends who have the power of vision : for they get descriptions from vari- ous points of view, that it is not considered necessary to give to those who can look for themselves. We wandered all about the different locali- ties, and had everything described to us, until we felt as if we knew the place by heart. We stood upon the great Table Rock — then one of the principal curiosities of the "Falls", but now fallen from its high estate into the gulf below ; 66 The Goat and His Island. we lingered by the whirlpool, and imagined ourselves drawn into that mighty vortex. We walked up and down through the streets of the little village, and wondered what our sen- sations would be if we lived there with that continual peal of thunder in our ears. Many and interesting incidents were related to us by "the oldest inhabitants" — all of whom, alas ! are now in the grave — with the mam- moth cataract singing their requiem. Among the other things told us, was the way "Goat Island" happened to be named. It was after one poor old animal that belonged to a Mr. John Stedman, as long ago as 1779- He placed the poor old fellow there in the summer of that year, and left him alone for a while when autumn came, intending to row over and get him (there was no bridge then) "before snow flew." But, alas, for the poor goat! — ^winter set in early that year, naviga- tion to and from the main shore was impos- sible, and the animal died of starvation or exposure — taking his pay for the sacrifice in giving his name, or the name of his species, for centuries to come, to the world-renowned island. It has been given other titles tem- porarily, and was very prettily marked on one of the maps, "Iris Island"; but people gener- ally have always been loyal to the poor old quadruped who died there in the winter of 1779-80, and continue to call it Goat Island. They told us so many stories of accidents, rescues, suicides, and other incidents almost as wonderful as the Falls themselves, that we 67 Fanny Crosby's Life-Story. were well-nigh bewildered ; and it took many weeks of our quiet and systematic school-life in New York to straighten everything out in our minds. It required much longer for us to satisfy all the curiosity of those of our school- mates who had not been so fortunate as to go with us. There was no envy expressed — only delight that we were able to enjoy so much, and genuine pleasure that they could partici- pate, even if indirectly, in the pleasures of the trip. 68 CHAPTER XIV.— 1844-1847. OFF TO THE NATIONAL CAPITAL AND CAPITOL BEFORE THE SENATE AND HOUSE OF REPRE- SENTATIVES MEET AND HEAR JOHN QUINCY ADAMS JAMES BUCHANAN ANDREW JOHN- SON STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS WILLIAM L. DAYTON JOHN P. HALE RUFUS CHOATE R. H. BAYARD ROBERT J. WALKER OTHER FAMOUS MEN IN THE AUDIENCE. IN' January, 1844, a party of us went to Washington, in order to awaken public attention in favor of the blind. We were asked to appear before the Senate and House of Representatives gathered in joint session : and here, in a poetical address which I was invited to give them, I had one of the most distinguished audiences of my life. You may well imagine that it was with some trepidation that a young woman still in her twenties, appeared before Congress: I have been told that I was the first and last poet ever invited to speak, or to recite his or her own productions before the great National Assem- bly. But I nerved myself to the task, and did as well as I could ; and had the pleasure of re- ceiving an enthusiastic encore. Greatest of all who were present on that 69 Famty Crosby's Life-Story, day, was John Qtiincy Adams. He was sev- enty-six years old, and had nearly all his life occupied some prominent office in the service of onr cotmtry. He had been President of United States eighteen years before: and wa? now in his old a^e winning new laurels as a most worthy Representative in the Lower House of Congress. Tyiiing onr stay in Washington I had the plea.s^2re of hearing- his speech on the subject of the Smithsonian Institcrte, and had the pleas- ure of a frien