{^tOtOo ^H^ "The best known and best loved woman in Minnesota' ti-ziioi MARIA SANFORD BY HELEN WHITNEY Formerly Assistant Professor of Rhetoric at the University of Minnesota MINNEAPOLIS Published by the University of Minnesota 1922 «3^ s» Ui> APRS 1923 DOCUMENTS L>iVio!ON DEMOCRAT PRINTING COMPANY MADISON, WISCONSIN b?' PREFACE No other Minnesota woman has been so widely knoAvn and so nniversally loved as Ma- ria Sanford. Her life was filled with self sacri- ficing labor for others, and with earnest en- deavor to forward every good cause. She was constantly conminnicating, through her o^vn vigorous personality, a zealous enthusiasm for education, for character-building, and for civic righteousness to all young people with whom she came in contact. A great throng of those whom she has inspired will welcome a biography that will pass on to other young people a portion of her glowing spirit. This story of her life has been written by one who Avas closely associated with Miss Sanford in the State University. The autobiography which was already begun, has been incorporated and much material has been furnished by friends and relatives. The Regents of the University have encour- aged the publication by personal assistance and have permitted the volume to be issued by the University Press. iii iv MARIA SANFORD The Alumni Association has appointed a spe- cial committee to further its wide distribution and sale. All proceeds are to be used for a Me- morial for Miss Sanford. The plan for the autobiography as well as the biography was conceived and has been successfully carried through by Mrs. David F. Simpson. Special thanks for accumulating ma- terial are due to Mrs.. Simpson, and Mrs. Fred- erick Kenaston of Minneapolis, to Mrs. Fred- eric Tryon of "Washington, to Miss Helen Wilder of Philadelphia, to the Minneapolis Jour- nal for permission to reprint the copyrighted autobiography and to Mr. G. A. Hubner for per- mission to use the copyrighted frontispiece. Assistance in revision and correction of manu- script has been rendered by Miss Elizabeth Lynskey and Mrs. Simpson. To all of these as well as to the author it has been a labor of love. Alumni Committee. CONTENTS Chapter Page I. The Unfinished Autobiography . 1 II. A Connecticut Yankee . . .44 III. The Teacher 68 IV. The Minnesota Pioneer . . 110 y. Christian's P>urden . . . 132 VI. The Neighbor . . . .156 VII. The End of the Teacher's Eoad . 184 VIII. *' General Helping" . . .218 IX. Harvest . . . . . . 260 X. The Farewell . . . .301 MARIA SANFORD CHAPTER I THE UNFINISHED AUTOBIOGRAPHY I come of good, strong New England stock. My ancestors were among the first settlers of the town where I was born, Saybrook, Connecti- cut, called later, since the town was divided, Old Saybrook. Saybrook was named for Lord Seal and Lord Brooke of the London Company, who were sending over settlers to the New World. Lord Fenwick came with the first set- tlers to Saybrook, bringing his young bride, who, after about a year, succumbed to the hard- ships of the new country. Her Elizabethan tomb, which her stricken husband brought over and set up over her grave beside the fort, was one of the most marked antiquities of old Con- necticut, but it had to give way to the necessi- ties of commerce. When the Valley road was built it needed a terminal outside the bar at the 2 MARIA SANFORD mouth of the Connecticut River, and Lady Fenwick 's tomb and her remains were removed to the cemetery. My cousin, a physician, super- intended the removal, and he found her skele- ton entire except the flange of one toe. And the inner coil of her chestnut hair was still lustrous after about two hundred years in the grave. As Saybrook was situated at the mouth of the Connecticut River, the settlers thought it would be a city, and laid out the main street sixteen rods wide and two miles long, with a double row of elms shading the walk on each side of the roadway; a magnificent street still. So bravely our Puritan ancestors built for the future. Yale College was first located at Saybrook, under the name of the Connecticut Colleague School. But in 1716 it had been found that the bar at the mouth of the river would hinder commerce; and New Haven, with its unob- structed harbor, was outgrowing Saybrook, and the college was removed to that city and named Yale College for a benevolent donor, Elihu Yale. My father 's mother was Elizabeth Chapman. Her great grandfather, George Chapman, erected, about 1650, the first frame house in Saybrook. This structure, about twenty feet square, was so well built that it formed still the MARIA SANFORD 3 snmmer kitchen of the house in which I lived from my sixth to my eleventh year. George Chapman bonght his wife, Annie Bliss, from off ship when the London Company **sent over chaste young women to be wives of the plant- ers '', who paid the passage of the girls and married them. This Annie Bliss became the mother of a notable race. Those whom I re- member were tall, straight, fine looking, intel- ligent men with more of individuality and initiative than are given to most people. I was told, as a child, that my ancestors in two lands, the Chapmans on my father's side and the Clarks on my mother's for three generations went up to the general court (legislature) to- gether when the people sent their best men. My mother 's father, Ruf us Clark, enlisted in the Revolutionary army at seventeen years of age, and this gives me my membership in the D. A. R. He became a man much trusted and esteemed, was made deacon of the church and justice of the peace, and, I might say,, general counsellor. He Avas a great reader and had quite a library of his own, in those days when the Bible and the almanac were considered suf- ficient for everybody but the minister and the doctor; and he read all the books he could borrow. 4 MAEIA SANFORD I had leaves of an old account book of my grandfather's, and this is the way they read: One gallon of rum, one gallon of molasses, one pound of ginger, one gallon of rum, five pounds of sugar, one pound of saleratus, one gallon of rum. About every third item a gallon of rum, and this a deacon and a justice! Everybody drank in those days, and treated the help in the field and the minister when he came to call. My grandfather read of the temperance movement in England before it was started in this country ; and convinced of its importance, banished liquor from his household and took coffee in- stead to his laborers in the field. When some years after, the temperance movement was started in Connecticut, the workers, who were told of his practice, came to get my grandfather to sign the pledge. He told them he was heartily in sympathy with temperance and practiced it, but did not like to sign a pledge. They were disappointed, of course. The next day he was down street, and the temperance workers were laboring mth a man who was ruining himself and his family by drink. **I think jest ez Deacon Clark does", he said, **I ken leave off, but I don't want to sign.'' * 'Where's your paper?" asked my grand- MARIA SANFORD 5 father, and gave them his name. He didn't want such hangers-on to his skirts. My mother's mother, Lydia Bushnell Clark, was a very handsome woman, with beantifnl soft brown hair, sparkling bright eyes, clear complexion and full red lips. Her husband, my grandfather, was almost as homely as his wife was handsome. My mother told me that when she was a girl of sixteen, the youngest of five children, an old suitor of my grandmother, who had been twenty-five years out West (east- ern Ohio) came to visit his old friends. She said that she was aware, as she was sitting by the fireplace, that he was looking at her very earnestly. Finally he said: ^^You don't look much like your mother." She said she knew how to take the compliment. If she didn't ** handsome much" somebody had bequeathed her a wonderful voice and a sweetness of dis- position far richer than mere beauty. She sang soprano, and her voice Avas full, rich and clear. She would take the high tenor and carry it with perfect ease and accuracy. But it was not so much the range of her voice as its quality, what the elocutionists call its ^Uimbre", that was remarkable. It just took hold of your heart- strings. My uncle, her brother, William Clark, was 6 MARIA SANFORD six years her elder. He was a school teacher, and I used to tell my little companions with pride that I had an nncle who had taught school forty years. I little thought that I myself should teach fifty-four years. In those early days teachers had to be severe to be successful, and my uncle was a very successful teacher. My mother went to school to him, and he was so much afraid of being considered partial to her that he was so strict (nobody could be severe with her), that she called him ^^Mr. Clark '^ at home. He told me, after mother's death, that when they used to go out into com- pany together he was very proud of her, for everybody loved her so. But she always obeyed him as if he had been her father. Once they were invited to a party given to the congress- man of that district, who lived in an adjoining town. There was a popular song at that time which my mother did not like; she thought it silly. She was urged to sing it at the party, but declined. When she Avas still urged. Uncle William said, *SSing it, Mary'', and she did. When she was through, the congressman said, much to her delight, *^I have heard better songs, but never a sweeter singer." My father, Henry E. Sanford, was like the Chapmans, tall and straight, six feet in his MARIA SANFOED 7 stockings. His characteristics were strength, courage, energy and skill, and a good cheer which no misfortune could crush. He had won- derfully intelligent hands. He never wasted a minute. He learned the shoemaker 's trade and worked at it, giving his wages to his father, as was customary, until he was twenty-one. Then he worked for himself, and by the time he was twenty-five he had laid up enough to warrant his marrying. And he won a prize. The mar- riage was an ideal one. My mother and father were so proud of each other, so ambitious, and looked to the future with such confidence and hope ! I love to imagine those early prosperous years, when my father bought and paid for the comfort of a little house, which my mother's neatness and good taste, and their mutual affec- tion, made a beautiful home. But their love was not dependent on good for- tune. In the darken years that followed, when loss and hardship came, there was never a flaw in their trust and devotion. Until the final parting, my mother always looked to my father for courage and wise direction, and he to her for inspiration and that graciousness wliich a strong man gains from a loving woman of refinement and delicacy. There was never any bickering between them. I remember all too 8 MARIA SANFOED well their very humble surroundings, their hard toil, their careful economy, but I do not remember — and I certainly should had it oc- curred, for I remember that when my father put up a stove-pipe we children kept out of his way — I do not remember a single sharp or un- kind word, but always the gentle tone and the glance of love and sympathy. I recall that when I was a very little girl father came home one night from his work. I do not know why this incident should be stamped on my memory except ''Set by some mordant of fancy It insists on its right to be there.'' My father leaned over my mother's shoulders and said tenderly, **Been ironing today, MaryT' (ironing was always hard for her) and kissed her. And the radiant smile that lighted up her face obliterated all signs of care and weariness. My father never felt it a hardship to go out of his way to do the little delicate things that pleased mother. His hours of labor were long and hard, but he never sat down to the table in his shirtsleeves, and when he was running a farm, I think he would have gone without a meal any time rather than sit doAvn to the table MARIA SANFORD 9 without changing to his slippers, because he knew mother noticed and disliked the odors of the barnyard and stable. They each loved to do what the other liked; and the same spirit extended to us children and to neighbors and friends. My father and mother were both deeply reli,gious but never bigoted. Father was superintendent of the Sunday school and leader of the choir and al- ways the minister's right hand man. My parents were poor, but there Avas no sor- didness in their poverty. I never heard my father plead poverty when the contribution box was going round. There was a bright, genial hospitality in their home. My mother was an excellent cook and could make the plainest and simplest food attractive, and kinsfolk and strangers loved to visit them; and distin- guished guests, usually lovers of music, who sometimes came, not only said but showed that they wanted to come again. Is it strange that having come from such a home, I believe with almost the enthusiasm of a zealot in the happiness and beauty of the homes of the poor? Those so-called homes where squalor and vice and disease and degra- dation thrive, mil, I believe, be abolished by social progress; but in the homes of self-re- 10 MARIA SANFORD specting, hard working poverty, there may and should be as much refinement and courtesy and tender love as in a palace. I believe we should bring up our boys and girls to expect to make such homes, and to prepare for them by tender care of their mothers and sisters at home, and to save the time and money they spend at the movies in preparing themselves to enjoy and make others enjoy music and books and pic- tures that give delight to the home. And I want our young couples to feel that a single room, with a bed in the wall, and a kitchen in a closet, and a bathtub under the table, a place from which they are obliged to go out every night for entertainment, is not the nucleus of a true home; that the plainest house in the suburbs, where there can be trees and flowers and children, where there will be burdens and duties and simple hospitality, is far better for the present and infinitely superior for the fu- ture happy home. But I am getting ahead of and away from my story. Some time in the first seven years of his married life, my father went to Georgia and set up a shoe store, and he was successful. But the years of 1836 and 1837 were not only years of financial panic, but also of anti-slav- ery agitation and of great prejudice in the MARIA SANFORD 11 South against Northern people. Somebody sent my father anti-slavery newspapers. He never saw them. They were taken out of his office and distributed among his customers. All at once his business fell flat. He could sell nothing, he could collect nothing, for even in the best days Southerners, at that time, paid their bills only once a year. He came home to do the best he could by his business cred- itors. He sold the place he and my mother loved so well, moved his family into part of his father's house, and when he had thus raised all that he could, there still remained a debt of a thousand dollars, for which he gave his note; and of which, I rejoice to say, he paid every cent. It was a heavy burden for a man mth only his hands and courage, and with a delicate wife and little children to care for, but he bore it with unwavering cheerful- ness. He might have taken advantage of the bankrupt law, but he said proudly : * * No man shall ever look me in the face and say I wronged him out of a penny." My mother was in perfect accord with this course, but it was very hard on her. My grandfather's house was not fitted for two families. My father's mother had died years before; and the stepmother who took her place, though 12 MARIA SANFORD kindly at heart, was a little sharp with her tongue, and mother was always sensitive lest she should infringe on others' rights and privileges. And with little children it was not always easy to be sure. It was just three months before my birth that, when the last things were placed on the load, my mother bade farewell to the home of so much happi- ness, and with her two little girls walked up to my grandfather's house. A prominent man of the town met her on the way. He said to his wife when he ,got home, ^*I hope I may never see another woman look as Mary Clark looked today," calling her by her maiden name, which they all knew and loved. In my young womanhood I was subject to deep depression, and my mother said to me: **It is no wonder to me, when I recall how I suffered in the months before you were born." Fortunately for me my father's spirit triumphed in me. I outlived the days of dark- ness and have been able, until bowed by the weight of years, like my father to square my shoulders to heavy burdens, and not only stand erect but keep a cheerful spirit. But I was doomed in the beginning to add to my parents' trouble. I was born under a cold star; in Connecticut, in December, the eigh- MARIA SANFORD 13 teenth or nineteenth. It was near midnight, and nobody ever knew whether before or after. I have chosen to celebrate the latter day. The old fashioned houses were built with great beams resting for support on the chimney. It was so cold that in the effort to keep my mother's room warm by a fire in the fireplace they set the house on fire, and when I was a week old, mother and child had to be removed. But this was not the worst. When I was six weeks old my mother was taken with fever, and I had to be weaned. I would have no substitute for the mother's breast and opened my mouth and screamed. By all reports, my voice was strong even then. There were no trained nurses in those days, and even if there had been my parents could not have afforded one, and I wore out the strength and patience of aunts and cousins who waited from day to day to see me starve to death. At last an old woman back in the woods consented to take the baby who wouldn't eat and would cry all the time. When they were trying to feed me with a spoon I snatched the cup and drank — a rather novel proceeding for a baby less than two months old — ^but I have always liked to have a way of my own. After a week or two, my grandfather, in going to the woods, went 14 MARIA SANFORD out of his way to see the baby and came home sayin,g, ^^I do believe that child is determined to live." I nsed to tell my father and mother laughingly that they could have spared me then, for their hands were full. * I surely ought to do some good in the world after such a disastrous beginning. As soon as my father could settle up his business affairs, he went to Meriden, Con- necticut, to work for his brother, who had an auger factory there. My father took charge of a room. The men worked ten hours, and father had to open up and get things ready before the men came, and straighten out and close up after they had gone; so that he had nearly eleven hours. And he received a dol- lar and a half a day. I was six months old when father moved his family to Meriden, a dis- tance of about forty miles. He hired a little house. It was dirty and dilapidated, but there was a beautiful big willow tree in front of it. Father fixed up the house, and mother made it neat, and they were very happy in it. There my first memories began. I remember how the doctor took my head between his knees and pulled out a back tooth with turnkeys. The idea of putting that sav- age instrument into the mouth of a little child! MARIA SANFORD 15 And they had no way of dulling the pain ex- cept with sugar plums that the teacher who came in gave me if I would stop crying. My father had gone to choir rehearsal when the pain in my tooth became unendurable ; and my sister, ten years old, walked in the dark the long two miles and a half after the doctor. I am very sure she was neither reluctant nor afraid. Perhaps the experiences of those days gave children stronger nerves. What wonderful changes have taken place in the compass of my memory! I remember our first stove. It was called the ^^ Franklin'' stove after Benjamin Franklin, who invented it. It was really a castiron fireplace, set out in the room and connected to the chimney by a stove - pipe; but it had the great advantage that we could get all around it. I remember our first cookstove. It was a curious affair; just a firebox with a hearth and covers and the flue that was supported by the back leg, and an oven in the stovepipe. But, crude as it was, it was a great improvement; for before that time the cooking had been done in the fireplace by means of a crane and pothooks supporting the kettles over the fire. It was back-breaking work, and it is not strange that so many men buried two wives and sometimes more. The baking was 16 MARIA SANFORD done in the big brick oven, and for this it was necessary to have dry wood. Green wood would sizzle and at last burn on the hearth, but for the oven the wood must be dry ; and it was counted one of the evidences of a man 's provident kind- ness that he kept on hand a good supply of dry wood for the oven. As we used to sing in our childish plays, *'You must prove constant and prove good, And keep your old woman in oven wood." By the way, this form of expression, **my man'' and ^^my woman" and often ^'my old woman" was common in those days when husband and wife spoke of each other. It was remarked by the neighbors that my mother always said ' ' Mr. Sanford" when she spoke of father, and we were a little proud, as children, that we never said or heard at home, in speaking of the neigh- bors, ' ' do^\ai to Spencer 's " or ^ ' Ingham 's ' ', but always down to ' ' Mr. Spencer 's " or '' Mr. Ing- ham 's", and even ^^doAvn to Mr. Sheffield's store." We never, as children, called our cousins who were young men and women simply Azuba, Rufus, and Lydia Ann, but always Cousin Azuba, Cousin Rufus, and Cousin Lydia Ann. I dwelt upon this because some children to- MAKIA SANFORD 17 day seem to think it smart to be careless of the handles of their words. "When they come to be men and women they will be very glad if they have early learned deference for their elders, both in speech and thought. The time spent in learning habits of courtesy yields big interest, not only in the esteem of others, but in the de- light in one's own soul. Going back to the stoves — ^When I was young there was no fire in the churches. Women car- ried little foot stoves : a copper box about ei^ght or ten inches square, cased in wood, in which they carried a pan of hot coals; and at noon they went to the near neighbors' and replen- ished it. The children wriggled and kept them- selves warm, and the men — they were accus- tomed to cold. Wlien some of the neighboring parishes had installed stoves the matter was brought up in the church in Saybrook. A few of the older people were **dead sot" against it; but the young people prevailed, and the stoves were put in. It was in December; but the first Sunday after the stoves had been in- stalled was warm and pleasant, and so they built no fire, a fact that was not known by the congregation generally. In the middle of the sermon one of the bitter opponents of the stove got up and walked out. He Avas followed by a 2- 18 MARIA SANFOED second and then by a third. ^^Conldn't stand the heat of them stoves", they said. *'Knew I couldn't stand the heat of them stoves.'' The ridicule when they came to find out that no fire had been built silenced opposition forever. Our houses were lighted, when I was young, with tallow dips and sometimes by whaleoil lamps ; and how they did smell ! Finally there came the brilliant light of kerosene oil. It was a great improvement, so far as eyesight was concerned; but the cleaning of the lamps, in a careful household, was a tedious and unpleas- ant task. Where the housewife was careless the oil would run down from lamps and be trans- ferred from her fingers to her food. I remem- ber teachers bewailed their experiences in such households. One friend of mine said of one such family, ^'They eat kerosene oil all the time. They don't know it isn't good." If the woman of that day could have seen one turn a button and flood the room with electric light, perfectly clean, she would have thought the mil- lenium was surely coming. The hardest of all the tasks of the household was soapmaking. The big barrel had to be got in, and the grease and the potash and the lye from a barrel of wood ashes all supplied. It required skill, and it was hard work, especially MARIA SANFORD 19 when the soap didn't come, and they had to stir it hour after hour with a big stick. It was con- sidered the woman's privilege to be cross on the day she made soap. I remember one of our neighbors saying that when his wife made soap he always threw his hat in when he came home, and if that came out spitefully, he concluded it was judicious to hang around awhile before he went in himself. But my father always con- trived to find time to make soap for my mother. The means of transportation of those days was very crude. Very few people had carriages or carryalls; but most rode in open wagons, sometimes with and often without springs. The stage coach, as everybody knows, was the means of public travel. My father used to insist, after the railways came into fashion and were consid- ered by most so dangerous, that they were far safer, in proportion to travel, than the old stage coach. He said that when he was coming home from Georgia they would often start on a dan- gerous road with a driver who came out of the tavern ^^half seas over." The man would whip his horses into a gallop at the top of a moun- tain, and the stage would sway over to the edge of a precipice; only a kind Providence and the sure-footed horses keeping them from a sudden death. 20 MARIA SANFOED I remember the building of what I think was the first railway in the United States. It was the switch back at Mauch Chunk, in Pennsyl- vania, for taking coal out of the mines by grav- ity. But I believe the first road for passengers was between Hartford and New Haven. I re- member the hordes of Irish that built it; I remember their little dump carts and their dirty children. I remember how, in the middle of the night, the men and women used to come howl- ing home from a wake, drunk and quarreling. But the grandchildren of these same Irish are the prominent and honored citizens of Meriden today. So let our present foreigners keep good heart. The Scandinavians are already coming into their own; but the Italians and the Poles and the Russians, if they wdll but stand stanchly by our American institutions and keep their children in school, may hope to see their grand- children the wealthy and responsible citizens of Minneapolis in the decades to come. My home was about three miles from the church, and in those days everybody except very little children went to church. My father hired a sitting for my mother in a neighbor's wagon ; but of my earliest recollection, when I was about three years old I walked with my father. My mother was too scrupulous about MARIA SANFORD 21 infringing upon others ' rights, when one sitting was hired, to have taken her little girl upon her lap. And so I walked; and when I was tired my father took me in his arms. I count this experience one of the valuable ones of my life : the close association of my father and the early formed habit of enjoying a long walk. This habit certainly contributed much not only to my happiness but to my health and vigor. All along the years, whenever I didn't have household duties, I would take freely a wall^ of five miles before breakfast, and enjoy it. In regard to the church, there were some curious customs in those days. One was that a mother or some elder woman sat at the end of the pew, and the girls next to her, and after them the boys next to their father. I remem- ber a wealthy man, a deacon of the church, who had a large family of children. His wife was usually at home with the baby, and he would come with eight or nine little fellows. The boys and girls would come crowding into the church, and at the door of the pew he would sort them out, pushing in this girl and pulling out that boy until he had them all ar- ranged with due decorum. The only excep- tion to this rule was that the youngest, even if it was a girl, could sit next to its father so 22 MAEIA SANFORD that it could lay its head on his lap and go to sleep. Another custom was that the choir was seated in a gallery over the door, opposite to the minister and behind the congregation; and when they sang the people stood up and turned their backs upon the minister and faced the choir. This position of the choir explains what some of our young people fail to under- stand in Lowell's description of the girl who was in love: She thought no v'ice hed sech a swing Ez hisn in the choir; My! When he made Ole Hunderd ring, She knowed the Lord was nigher. An' she'd blush scarlit right in prayer, When her new meetin '-bunnit Felt somehow thru' its crown a pair 0' blue eyes sot upun it. ^^Blue Eyes" were in the choir loft heJiind the congregation. And in those days the colored people occu- pied the seats in the rear of the church. I think I must have been about three years old when I first discovered them; and I know my mother had considerable trouble that day in keeping my face to the front. I continually MAEIA SANFORD 23 turned to stare at these black faces ; and finally I whispered to mother, ^ ' Why don 't they wash themselves before they come to church f And I seemed to cling to this idea as to the cause of their being black. When I was six years old, one cold night my mother took me mth her to carry some things to a poor colored family that lived in a windmill. There was a pair of twins about a year old and now a new baby of two or three days. They told me that they would give me the little one. When we came to leave I insisted on taking it. I was usually an obedient child, but I remember that I cried heartily because mother wouldn't allow me to take the baby. As we were going home mother asked me why I was so naughty ; and I said plaintively, '^But, mother, why didn't you take the baby, and then it wouldn't be black 1" She asked me what I thought made it black; and I said, **Why, they handle it mth their dirty hands." It was not so much that I wanted the baby, but I wanted to save it from future misfortune. Religious prejudices in those days were very stron,g, and the different Protestant de- nominations kept themselves a good deal apart. At my earliest recollection almost all the people in our vicinity were Congregation- 24 MARIA SANFORD alists. There were a very few Episcopalians. My father and mother Avere counted very lib- eral, and united cordially with other denom- inations. With the Irish came in the Catho- lics and after them the Methodists and Bap- tists. I think it must have been about 1844 that a Universalist preacher first came to our town for a single service. Among the very few that went to hear him was a rich, retired sea captain, a wicked old sinner. As he was go- ing home he was overheard saying to himself solemnly: *^ Blessed doctrine! Blessed doc- trine! If I could only believe it.'' I remem- ber when I was about seven years old I chanced to pass the Episcopal church, lighted up for Christmas Eve services, and I looked upon it with a feeling of horror, much as a child of today would look upon a gambling hell if the door had been opened. I had not been taught this. It was the reflection of a common prejudice. The fires of religious war and persecution had burned out, but the embers still smoldered. How grateful we should be for the unity with which we can join hands in any good work with all who, under whatever name, are serving the Master ! I was four years old when I began to go to MARIA SANFORD 25 school. There was a low bench around the stove for the little children and a high bench with a slanting board behind it for the older ones. This counter was cut up in various hieroglyphics, initials and pictures of many kinds. I remember that two girls, in an idle hour, dug a grave in the counter and buried a fly with the customary funeral services. There was no singing in the school. There was no mental arithmetic, no literature, and no history. And if w^e chanced to draw a pic- ture on our slates we were severely reproved. We read round in turn from the New Testa- ment; and the few fanatics who now advocate the reading of the Bible in school would be cured of the notion if they could but hear one day's blunders as I remember them. A friend of mine bears testimony to this experience. The children were reading the seventeenth chapter of Matthew, the story of the Trans- figuration; and one boy instead of reading, *^And when the disciples heard it they fell on their faces and were sore afraid, read, **and were sore afterward." I have two vivid recollections of this school term when I was four years old. One is that the teacher, anxious to make us acquainted with useful facts, crowded into our heads long lists 26 MARIA SANFORD of names of the Indian tribes of the United States, which I can reel off today, mispronun- ciation and all, just as I learned them. Use- less lumber to give a child to keep in the brain for fourscore years! The other vivid recollection of my first term at school was a thunderstorm. It was at the end of two weeks of August rain; and on that particular morning 'Hhey didn't sift it at all, just poured it down by the bucketful.'' For an hour the thunder and lightning had been very severe, and the teacher had allowed us to keep our aprons over our faces; but just as she said, ^'I think it's over now, and you can put down your aprons," there came a crash- ing bolt, and the whole schoolhouse seemed to go up in flame. The lightning had really struck a haycock about ten feet from the schoolhouse. Why it didn't strike the build- ing I have never known. There was more than one child who insisted the next morning: *^The schoolhouse has burned down. I saw it afire." We rushed out, teacher and all. The street was flooded with water. There was a shallow ditch, and I waded to my waist in crossing it. We took refuge in the house of the nearest nei,ghbor. One boy, who lived on the hill behind the MARIA SANFORD 27 schoolhonse, started to go home. His father was a drunkard, and my mother had been to their house many a time on errands of mercy, so that the boy knew her. When he was part way home he was too terrified to proceed, but turned around and came down to our back door. The rain had now stopped, but he was wet to the skin. When he said to my mother, **The schoolhouse is struck, and it struck me once,'' of course my mother was alarmed. It was ahnost noon; and father came in soon to his dinner and went up at once to see what had become of his little girls. I think he was very much relieved to find us safe in the house of the neighbor, for I remember that his right arm pressed me close to his breast as he car- ried me home. My next sister was holding his left hand, and the oldest clinging to his coat on the right. To me one of the most beautiful sights is a father caring tenderly for his little daughters; I think perhaps because the scene is tangled up in my mind with such precious memories. The influence of that storm with me was last- ing. None of my family was afraid of thunder and lightning. Even in the next generation, my sister's children were entirely free from this fear. I remember when my little niece and 28 MARIA SANFORD nephew of five and three years of age were alone upstairs in a severe storm, I went up thinking they must be afraid. Jnst before I reached them there was a terrific bolt, and the little girl clapped her hands and said : ' ' That 's a good one! Give ns another." But no such courage for me. All through my childhood the very appearance of thunderheads would make me quake and even cause actual nausea. It was not imtil I was a teacher and responsible for the impression made on children that I was able to conquer this unreasoning fear, and I admit that even now I don't enjoy a thunder- storm at night ; so powerful are the impressions of childhood. In this case, of course, it was accidental ; but many parents are careless of the influence of fear upon their children. Someone told a little cousin of mine a blood curdling ghost story; and he went to school next day and picked out with a pin every place in his Testament where Holy Ghost occurred. He would have no ghosts in his book. Going back to the schools of my childhood. In summer we had Avomen teachers and in win- ter men, because it was thought that women couldn 't control the big boys ; and in the brutal system of school government then prevailing, physical strength was an important matter. MARIA SANFORD 29 There were often twelve or fifteen boys of man's stature; and in some schools it was a favorite amusement to turn out the teacher. I remember, when I was about twelve years of age, in a neighboring town five men in suc- cession had been turned out ; and the committee was in despair, when one man suggested that he knew a woman who could manage that school. The committee in despair concluded to take her. The boys thought it was a lark and had things all planned out. When they went out at recess they were going to assemble on a rock at the rear of the schoolhouse, and when she knocked on the window for them to come in (there were no bells in those days) they would stand up and glare at her, then go in and put her out. One boy by the name of Jim was to give them the signal. The teacher came and knocked; but Jim, instead of standing up, meekly slid down over the rock and went in, and the others followed him and carried out the work of the morning in an orderly manner. At noon the boys said to him: *^Jim, what made you go in f He answered : * ^ Golly ! Did you see her eyes f In man or woman it is the consciousness of mastery which gives success. The prejudice that believed women could not control older boys has passed away; but we 30 MARIA SANFORD still retain the prejudice that a man teacher is necessary for the dignity of a school. I admit that the influence of both men and women is desirable in the formation of the character of the young. But when people put inexperienced, callow youths in positions of importance in schools or colleges simply because they are ** lords of creation", and pay them twice as much as is given to the really valuable women whose power alone keeps the man in his place and the school running, then there is a call for reform. And we do not have to go to the coast of either ocean to find instances of this kind. There are some men in the teaching profession Avhose work is of inestimable value ; but we all know that this profession does not appeal to many men of power. The thing we need to guard against is that we do not in these days let the really priceless women who are in the profession leave it for want of proper pay. By far the most valuable educational influ- ence of my childhood came from my mother. I remember when I was not yet four years old following her about in her work, begging her to tell me more about the war. Her uncle had been a colonel in the Revolutionary War and had died on the prison ship. Behind my grand- father 's house was a beacon hill on which a tar MARIA SANFORD 31 barrel was kept to be set on fire when the enemy landed; a signal, to another beacon hill in the distance, of approaching danger, the telegraph system of those days. Long before I was ten years of age I had in mind a gallery of worthies, embracing not only our Revolutionary heroes and men like Hamil- ton and Marshall and Henry Clay, but old world worthies: Oliver Cromwell, John Hampden, Alfred the Great, Gustavus Adolphus, and Charlemagne. I knew and delighted in the character and deeds of these men. My mother realized the value of the word * ' service ' ' in its modern application ; and she taught us the value of time, and sought to inspire us to worthy lives by keeping before us the achievements of such women as Hannah More, Elizabeth Fry and Mary Somerville, and in this country of Mary Lyon, and later of Susan B. Anthony and Abby Foster and Lucretia Mott. And to my mother' I am indebted for my love of literature. I can remember, when I still slept in the trundle bed, waking before light in the morning and asking if it wasn't almost time to get up. And mother would answer, **Say over your verses." It would take me at least half an hour to go over the list. I began wdth the long cradle hymn of Watts: 32 MAMA SANFOKD Hush, my babe, lie still and slumber, Holy angels guard thy bed. and When'er I take my walks abroad^ How many poor I see. What shall I render to my God For all His gifts to me ? And I remember with great delight I used to say over those glorious lines, still in our hymn books : Brightest and best of the sons of the morning, Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid. Star of the East, the horizon adorning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid. and the remaining stanzas of that noble hymn. I do not suppose a child of five or six years could comprehend the beauty of this grand poetry, but I know that some of its music entered my soul, and its inspiration also. And I know that this training not only made me familiar with poetic diction and poetic imagery, but that this and my familiarity with the Holy Scriptures formed my literary taste. I read and studied the Bible; chapter after chapter I could repeat entire. And I am very sure that when I was twelve years old no one MARY CLARK SANFORD Maria Sanford's Mother MARIA SANFOED 33 could have made a mistake in quoting a pas- sage from the early books of the Bible all through Kings and including Job, the Psalms and Proverbs and most of the New Testament — no one, I say, could have misquoted, and I should not have recognized the error. This ac- quaintance with the exquisite diction and glo- rious imagery of King James ' version has been to me of unspeakable value, not only in the strengthening of character but in the formation of literary taste. This love for the grand old diction makes me impatient with the weaker forms of the Revised Version, which may be sometimes a little plainer, but have so often lost the noble imagery and poetic rhythm of the Hebrew Scriptures. My mother took for her motto in the training of her children the saying of some distinguished man: *^Fill the measure with wheat and there will be no room for the chaif.'' I have often in later years recommended to mothers that they follow her example in teaching their children, instead of senseless jingles, noble poems which will be priceless seed grain in the mind of the child, bearing rich harvest in later years. I once gave this talk in a place where I was well acquainted, and after the lecture a woman whom I knew came to me and said : **But, Miss 3 34 MARIA SANFOED Sanford, I haven't time.'' I knew that her lit- tle daughter had dainty embroidered dresses for summer, and rich, warm, soft ones for win- ter ; and wraps and garments for every season and every need, and I thought : * ' So much time for the body that perishes and no time for the immortal soul which starves in darkness, mak- ing no moan. ' ' I have said that my parents were religious, and I should say something of the religious training of my childhood. While my parents would have been shocked at the idea of a base- ball game or a theatrical performance on Sun- day, the day was never, in our home, kept in that strict, dreadful fashion that too often prevailed in those days, as in the case of the little girl whose playthings were all put away Saturday night, and who was allowed, after sundown on Sunday, to go to walk in the graveyard. She heard someone say that heaven was an eternal Sunday. She came to her mother in distress and said: ^^Mama, don't you think, if I am real good all the week, God will let me go down to hell Saturday afternoon and have a good time 1 ' ' The schools, when I was young, had only a half holiday on Saturday. Sunday was never dreaded by me, except the hours spent in MARIA SANFOED 35 church. I set myself the stint to read ten chapters in the Bible on Sunday, and often exceeded that number, but I didn't keep still. I remember once my father offering me fifty cents, if I would keep still half an hour. It was a great prize. I think up to that time I had never had so large a sum of money, but I didn't get it. So sitting still in church or prayer meeting was a terror to me. After a little while I thought my stomach went round and round. I now know it was a nervous sen- sation caused by enforced quiet upon a very active child. It was a great blessing to me that when I was nine years of age my little brother came. Somebody must stay at home with the baby; and though I admit I was a little timid — for there was nothing but the flies and the chickens, both of which I thought sung a different song on Sundays from other days, and an occasional dog that passed, but I was afraid of dogs — I preferred staying alone with the baby to sitting still in church. Religion was never a sad and doleful thing in our household. We were taught to love our Heavenly Father. Two incidents illus- trating this are especially prominent in my mind. One was when my oldest sister was about sixteen and had a little party. All 36 MAMA SANFORD along our childhood, father and mother en- tered into our plays. Even when we were little things and played ^^I spy the thimble/' father would sit like a graven image, holding up his newspaper to see nothing while we hid the thimble in his coat collar or his ear. And mother was never too tired or too busy to rummage the garret for things that would help us in our play. On this particular evening we had had charades and other '* dress-up games," and father and mother had been in it as much as any of us, and the time had passed in great glee. At ten o'clock, when the neigh- bor young folks had gone, we sat around the stove talking it over and laughin,g as we re- membered hoAv funny this and how bright that was. When father said ^'Let us kneel down and thank our Heavenly Father for these pleasures" — it was not his custom to have evening prayer, he always had morning prayer — we knelt down and he voiced our gratitude to God for the fun and frolic that had made our home bright. If Ave teach our children to thank God for their pleasures, they will not be likely to seek amusements on which they cannot ask His blessing. The other instance was when I was quite a little girl. There were no orphan asylums in MARIA SANFORD 37 those days, and children left without protec- tors were bonnd by the selectmen to some family who gave them support and schooling for which they gave service until they were eighteen. A little bound girl lived some dis- tance below us. It was rumored that she had not been kindly treated ; and one night in early autumn, just before it was time for us to go to bed, a man came by telling the story that the people had accused this girl of stealing a brooch (they afterwards found that she had not stolen it). They had whipped her all they dared, then they had kept her in the cellar on bread and water; but she insisted that she didn't know where it was. And at last they had hun,g her in the well, thinking to frighten her into confession. Her screams brought the neighbors and relief. This story was very exciting to little children; and when, soon after, mother put us to bed after hearing us say our prayers, and kissed us good night and left us, we talked it over and began to cry, and called mother. She told us that we needn't be afraid, that we had father and mother to take care of us; and we were pacified for the moment. But we soon called her back, and a third time. Then I remember she sat down on our bed, and I can hear her voice as if it 38 MARIA SANFORD were but yesterday as she softly said: ^^I can't be with you all the time, and your father can't be with you all the time, but your Heav- enly Father is always near. Now say over after me, ' Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee; because he trusteth in Thee.' " And she had us say it over and over until we could say it alone ; and then she said, */Now keep saying it until you go to sleep." And so we did, and fell sweetly asleep, trusting in the care of the Heavenly Father. It was a little old brown house, and the furniture was very plain; but not to have toddled about in a palace and inherited mil- lions would I sacrifice those precious memo- ries of a Christian home. We were by no means prize model children^ but a somewhat harum-scarum lot. We par- took much more of the energy of our father than of the quiet grace of our mother. I re- member my mother's telling of a reproof her father gave her. She was visiting at home when her three little girls were small. Her father's big house had been remodeled so that her brother with his family of seven children lived in half of it. Grandmother was very fond of children and always had in her pantry MARIA SANFORD 39 something nice, a piece of pie, cookies or candy to give them. Sometimes the children from the other part of the house would slip into the pantry and help themselves. Grandfather said to mother: *^Mary, your children are perfectly honest. Not one of them would take a thing out of grandmother's pantry without permission any more than she would cut off her right hand. But not one of them can go through that door without hitting both sides.'' My earliest connection with the temperance society was when I was four or five years old. An organization called ^'The Cold Water Army" extended throughout New England and probably other states. All the boys and girls were nrged to join this organization. We had meetings and parades. Every mem- ber had a paper diploma about a foot square on which was printed our pledge and several songs. I remember the first verse of one was : We cold water girls and boys Freely renounce the dangerous joys Of brandy, whiskey, rum and gin. The serpent's lure to death and sin. People at that time were very hopeful of speedily crushing intemperance. My mother 40 MARIA SANFORD said she expected that when her children were grown it would be a thin,g of the past. She little thought that her youngest daughter would be over fourscore years old before the sale of intoxicating liquors would be made illegal in our country, and that even then the fight for temperance must still go on. In the fall before I was six years of age my father moved his family back to Saybrook; and for four years he took charge of the farm of his uncle, George Chapman, and we lived in the old Chapman homestead, built by my great-grandfather, to which was attached, as a summer kitchen, the first frame house built in Saybrook. The farm had been in the hands of renters and was much run doAvn ; but father was interested in it as if it were his OAvn, and did much to build it up. My sister and I used to help on the farm. We dropped corn and potatoes in the spring, and picked up potatoes in the fall, and husked corn ; and by this means earned a little money to buy our clothes. It was helpful and not hard work. In those years, too, I rem.ember I used to pick huckleberries. The huckleberry fields were two miles and a half from my home, and sometimes a lot of little girls used to go together. But although I was a little lonesome I preferred to MARIA SANFORD 41 go alone because then I stuck to my job and filled my pail, I sold the berries to my grandmother and aunts ; and bought in this way, more than once, my winter dress. It was while we were here on the farm that my father finished pay- ing off the debt he had carried, and easier times dawned for us. It was here also that my only brother was born. This home was half a mile distant from my grandfather Clark's; and though as farmers my parents rose early, I used frequently to go up to my grandfather's and back before breakfast. Grandfather used to say: **That child will get over that when she is big enough to be good for anything." But I never did get over it; and I am as fond of risin,g early now as I was then. One more trivial incident of that earliest home perhaps I should recall. It is my hav- ing measles. My uncle Elias, my father's younger half-brother, boarded "with us for some months. He was very fond of me and used to hold me in his lap. He thought he was immune because he had had the disease in childhood. But several members of my fam- ily, including myself, seemed to require two doses; and he took the disease a second time 42 MARIA SANFORD from me. One day while I was confined to the house a crazy woman came. Mother had often been kind to her and taken her in. There were no hospitals for the insane in those days, and crazy people wandered the streets unless some member of their family could take care of them. I strayed out of the house and down to the brook; and when mother called me and asked me why I went away, I said I didn't like to hear Becky "Wil- liams talk. It is pitiful to think what those poor creatures suffered in those days. In a house not a mile below ours a man, violently insane, was shut into a room in a part of the barn by big posts, one of which he once sawed in two with a comb and thus escaped. An- other prominent family, where there was an old woman mildly insane but not fit to live with the rest of the family, kept her in a room where she ate and slept. One day they smelled fire and traced it to her room. They went in and found the room full of smoke, and she was in bed. They said, **"Why, aunt Nabby, the house is on fire." **Yes,'' she said, **I know it, but I poured on all the water there was in the teakettle.'' It has seemed to me that Nabby 's philosophy is much the way that many people attack MARIA SANFORD 43 abuses that should be corrected. Instead of taking the trouble to go to the root of the evil and ferret it out they do the easy, handy thing, **pour on all the water there is in the tea- kettle" and then go to bed. CHAPTER II A CONNECTICUT YANKEE Tlie Sanford Association of America trace a great branch of the Sanford family to Thomas Sanford, who came to Milford, Connecticut, about 1639, and died there in 1681. The family has been proud of its lineage, and holds re- unions to keep alive family interest and ac- quaintance. Maria Sanford 's ancestors lived, as far back as 1646, in that part of Connecticut where Rob- ert Chapman was given a grant of land in what later became the town of Saybrook. This land has always remained in the family; a Robert Chapman now living on the historic site. Maria Sanford 's grandmother Lucretia was born on the estate and was married in 1797 to Samuel Sanford. The third of their seven children was Henry Elisha Sanford, born in 1802. Captain Elisha Chapman, great grandfather of Maria Sanford was a soldier in the French and Indian wars, and served as Captain throughout the Revolution. There are many 44 MARIA SANFORD 45 interesting stories told of Mrs. Chapman's ex- perience during the war, while her husband was away and she cared for her large family of children and her aged parents. One is that the daughter Lucretia, Maria Sanford's grand- mother, saw the great Lafayette when her mother served him and his aide a dinner at the homestead. Some of the older daughters assisted, but the little Lucretia was shut with the other younger children in an upper room to be out of the way. So they had to content themselves with looking at the great man from an upper window. Such a family story could not fail to seize the imagination of the small Maria. The parents of Maria Sanford, Henry and Mary Sanford, had four children : Elizabeth, the oldest, born in 1829, married Asa Kirtland and had seven children. She died in 1880. The second, Clarissa, born in 1834, married, and left at her death in 1870 one daughter. The young- est of the family, Rufus, born in 1846, is the only one of the children surviving. The third child of the family, Maria Louise, was born at Saybrook, Connecticut, December 19, 1836. Of her earliest childhood she remem- bered enough of the Christmas when she was five years old to give a vivid picture scores of 46 MARIA SANFORD years later of the loving care with which her mother made the day a happy one for the small family. The day before Christmas she made little mince pies and quince tarts for the chil- dren to give to their young friends. The eager Maria delighted to watch the marvelous process of notching the edges of the pies, and of cutting delicate strips of crust to put across the tarts. Christmas eve the children hung up their stock- ings and coaxed their father to do likewise. But they had to put their mts to work to fill it, for he wore, according to the custom of that time, long woolen stockings that came up over the knee. When the gifts the children had been preparing under their mother's direction had been swallowed up by the stocking, and the cavernous opening was seemingly as great as ever, the mother brought thin delicious dough- nuts, beloved of their father, and then promised to put in plenty of popcorn balls and molasses candy. The stocking w^ould not fill up, and the oldest sister thought of a great red apple. Wlien she returned from the cellar with that she brought also a huge potato, seven inches long, proposing to put it in the toe. Wliile one girl scrubbed the potato and wrapped it in tis- sue paper, another carefully removed all the things from the stocking, and then put the MARIA SANFORD 47 potato in first. As a final tonch, one pnt a carefully wrapped wdshbone on the top^ and the stocking was at last filled. With nothing except what had been prepared at home, an apron, mittens, a rag doll ; with no Christmas tree — they had never heard of such a thing — they enjoyed all the delightful mystery and pleasure of giving that heart could \vish. Seventy-five years afterward Maria remem- bered the preparation for that day. Such hap- piness in poverty, with simple pleasures, had a lifelong effect on her character. For nine years she was the youngest, and was always an alert, eager, interested child. She had an adoration for her mother so great that when she neared home on her way from school she would run as fast as she could, call- ing ** Mother, mother, where are you?" When the youngest child, a boy, was born, Maria adopted him as her special charge, and felt that she had a great new interest. From earliest childhood she was accustomed to the institution of family prayers, not only in her own home but in the homes of relations and friends. She learned to repeat the Psalms, and had regular Bible study on Sunday afternoons. Her life-long love of the Bible proves that this was not made the irksome task which many 48 MARIA SANFORD New England children have fonnd it to be. One of the best lectures she was giving in the last years of her life Avas entitled Beauties of the Bible. When Maria was ten years of age the family moved to Meriden, Connecticut, where the father worked for his brother. Up to that time Maria attended country school. When she reached the age of fourteen she began to attend the academy at Meriden, walking three miles daily to and from school and helping her mother out of school hours with the housework. As the older sisters had married soon after the removal to Meriden, and gone to homes of their own, Maria was her mother's only helper. It soon became apparent that the young girl thirsted for an education. She was always a hard worker at school, and had an ambition that hated to accept defeat. At one time, when the teacher gave extra problems in arithmetic to be worked at home, Maria had to return to school with one unsolved. When she learned that no one had been able to work it, she got excused from school, returned home and worked until she had solved it. She was the only one who mastered the difficulty. There was a family saying that Maria was so good as a child that, according to the old Puri- MARIA SANFORD The Connecticut Yankee MARIA SANFOBD 49 tan belief, she could not live to grow xip. Her singular unselfishness was the cause of an amusing story which is still told in the family. Her small brother had always observed his sis- ter, when helping herself from a dish of apples, reach for one with decayed spots, and supposed she liked them best. One day, therefore, when he went to a neighbor's on an errand, and the woman asked if he thought his family would like some apples she had which had begun to decay, he answered at once, * * 0, yes, I am sure we can use them, for Maria loves rotten apples.'' She seems to have been a healthy child; she had inherited from her father a strong phy- sique, and from her mother high ideaJs- From the very outset she was taught that life was given us to use for something worth while; that it was a precious gift, and that it was sinful to waste it. So lofty was the teaching that it was considered sinful to read novels. And at the mature age of eleven years the young girl resolved, after realizing that she had actually read one, not to read any more fiction. Her older sister had had a year's subscription to the Boston Atheneum given her, and one rainy Saturday Maria took it to a favorite ref- uge in the attic and read through a continued 4 50 MARIA SANFORD story. After she sat back to think of it she said to herself *^Why, that is nothing more nor less than a novel V^ Then she made a secret resolve to refrain from such wickedness; a resolve which she kept until she learned in normal school that some of the world's great literature is cast in the form of narration. A strong natural desire for reading was stimulated by the study of history and church doctrine. Her thirst for knowledge grew so that by the time she was sixteen she knew much of the world's history and had acquired a love for it that remained one of her greatest inter- ests in life. The mother had taught the Psalms and other beautiful poetry to the children so that they had a rich inheritance even without novels. It is worthy of notice that as long as she lived, Maria cared little for this most pop- ular form of literature. When the oldest daughter, on leaving home, received from her father her marriage portion, Maria asked for hers then instead of waiting for it until she was ready to be married. Her explanation that she wanted to use the money to go to the New Britain Normal School found favor with both her parents. With very little money, and a scanty wardrobe in which a red delaine dress was the most elegant item, the strong-hearted MARIA SANFORD 51 young girl set forth upon her first journey away from home. The New Britain Normal School was a co-educational institution with pleasant social relationships, but Maria Sanford was studying too hard all the time she was there to reap the benefits of them. She once let several weeks go by without writing home ; and when her father sent an anxious letter, she got up at four o'clock to answer it. He replied that she needn't mind writing often if she had to get up before daylight to do it. So unremit- tingly did she work that she completed the course with honors, graduating in 1855, at the age of nineteen. At her graduation she wrote an essay enti- tled What of the Future? the opening words and the climax of Avhich she remembered word for word when she was eighty years old. She always regarded them with approval. The essay began, ^^The future lies before us and we can make it what we will ; no deed, no word, no thought of ours but leaves its deathless record there, and blots once made can never be ef- faced. ' ' The climax she liked for its imperative ring. She thought it was a good motto, and said it was always easier for her to folloAv an excla- mation point than a question mark. The climax was **Fear not! faint not! fail not I" 52 MARIA SANFORD Some time after her graduation from nor- mal school, the Honorable John D. Philbrick, who was principal at the time she was a student, and afterward superintendent of the Boston public schools, said of her: ^* Maria Sanford had unconunon energy and vigor, and was con- spicuous for industry, fidelity and earnestness. What her hands found to do she did with all her might. ' ' After finishing her course at Normal School she began teaching in a country school at Gilead, forty miles from home, at a salary of ten dollars a month. So shy and so untried was she in the solemn field of teaching that she took a position as far away as she could in order not to be disgraced at home if she proved a failure. Forty miles was farther in those days than four hundred now. The first year was a bitter experience for her, because she had not learned to love teaching. She said she used to lie awake nights until she could tell the time by the stars as well as a sailor; thinking, wondering, pondering, and praying to be guided aright. She was never satisfied with her own work at Gilead, though others did not seem to think it a failure; and they hired her for a second term. But she said there were many times when, if she could MARIA SANFORD 53 have found lier way to the bottom of the neigh- boring Atlantic Ocean without the sin of suicide on her soul, she should have gone there. It was bitter; but she was learning her trade, with no teacher but experience and her own conscience. Her first triumph came in this school. One day a county superintendent came to visit. He sat all the afternoon saying nothing, and when he left said nothing. Her heart stood still. Later he told her, *'I have been watch- ing your children all the afternoon. You said nothing. Each one seemed ito be doing ex- actly as he wanted to do, and each one wanted to do right ! '^ She said it was the most beauti- ful compliment she had ever received. The first recorded instance of her noted love of humor occurred in this school. The chil- dren had a habit of chewing dried apples in school instead of the spruce gum of a later day; and just as country school teachers of the eighties forbade gum chewing, this teacher of the fifties forbade the chewing of dried apples. One day she saw a great boy sitting near her desk working his jaws suspiciously and said, *^ Samuel, are you eating dried apples?" **No'm, lisped Samuel with difficulty, **I'in 54 MARIA SANFORD thusth puttin' one to tlioak.'^ She treasured that answer all her life. After the second year there she improved her condition and her income by going to Glas- tonbury to teach in the lower room of a two grade school. She was progressing a little. The next year came still further progress, and she got a better place nearer home; for she wasn't afraid of failure any longer. She was getting her feet under her and slowly gather- ing what no human being can aiford to be without if he is to be of any use in the world: that is, self-respect. She taught the upper grades now, and began to realize that she must develop her disciplinary powers. She remem- bered long afterward James McGuire, a strap- ping Irish bo}^ of fifteen. He was bigger than she and thought he could defy her. One day he had refused to pick up some corn he had scattered on the floor. She knew it was now or never, and with a mute prayer for strength started the first lesson in applied physical dis- cipline that she had given. Greatly to James McGuire 's surprise, he presently found him- self on his back in the hall with her hand on his collar and her knee on his chest. *^Will you pick up that corn?'' she said. MARIA SANFORD 55 And he blubbered a chokin,g reply, **Y-Y-es, ma ^am. ' ' That was on Friday, and she went home for Saturday and Sunday. When she returned Monday morning she met one of the school trustees who shook hands with her, laughed heartily and said, ^'I guess you'll do, young lady." And after she got to school she over- heard one of the boys saying to another: ^^ Golly, but teacher's strong." After that she had no more trouble with unruly boys. She taught there for a year and then went to Middlefield, Connecticut, for still better wages. In 1859 her father died and Maria's first terrible grief for a time prostrated her. His death occurred after an illness of four days while the mother was away from home. He was a man of such sterling worth that his loss was deeply felt in the community, and the eulogy pronounced at the funeral was heart- felt and comforting. Printed as a memorial, it rings today with the solemnity of great, simple truths. The delicate mother's forti- tude enabled her to join in the hymn, which according to the custom of that day was sung by the friends gathered around the grave. Her friends said she was uplifted as she sang, and seemed to be looking within the veil. The 56 MAMA SANFORD memory of her calm face came to the storm wrecked Maria that evening when she was startled by the call to supper. The shock of realizing that the world must go on as before brought to her one of the many times of read- justment to the burdens of her life. Her father had taught her never to sink under a blow; her mother, always to be cheerful. A passage from a letter written by a cousin of Miss Sanford's gives a touch of the home life in Meriden. **I am thinking of yon in your room in the home at Meriden writing a dialogue for the pupils, and reciting snatches of prose and poetry, giving me a pleasant Sun- day home while I was teaching in Yalesville. I am afraid I did not thoroughly appreciate then my good fortune to know you and your saintly and sainted father and mother so inti- mately, but I have looked back on those days many times since with thankfulness and ap- preciation. ' ' The home was broken up for a time, while the mother went to live with the oldest mar- ried sister, and the young brother returned with Maria to Middlefield. She had as assist- ant a young woman who had been with her in normal school in New Britain; and she had the distinction of teaching in what was for MARIA SANFORD 57 those days a very fine new school building, a model very much in advance of those around it. Instead of the one room school with the old wood stove in front of the teacher's desk, this school-house had a recitation room provided with a large library. Both the heating and the ventilating were something very modern; the latter was effected by large ventilators in the roof which were connected with flues that took out either warm or cold air from the room. The heating system was so arranged that pure air from the outside was brought in- to the room over coils around a large box stove. Maria Sanford had a lifelong hobby for fresh air. She was liable to feel stifled where others felt comfortable. At this time she was a slender young woman, considerably above medium height and of somewhat florid complexion, and a quiet, grave voice. She was very di^gnified, thoroughly in earnest, and appreciated the responsibilities of her position as a teacher. Teaching did not by any means fill all her time. Even then she was a great walker but her walks invariably had an objective. On one occasion she and her assistant walked nine miles from Middlefield to Yalesville where the mother was living; upon their arrival Maria, 58 MARIA SANFOED without sitting down to rest, set to work iron- ing a large basket of clothes, and kept at it until the ironing was all done. The small daughters of the widowed sister who lived with the mother the three years while Miss Sanford was in Middlefield, used to run away at first when their Aunt Maria returned for week ends and holidays, merely because her energy was so great that her rapid movements frightened them. She was very kind to them, but she was so different from their quiet, gentle mother and their grand- mother that she had to work to gain their con- fidence. Her own confidence and self poise had come with success in her work, and with the responsibility of supporting her frail mother and delicate young brother. Her unusual superiority of mind and per- son were so evident that they attracted a young man teaching at that time in Yalesville. The attraction became mutual; when Miss Sanford went to New Haven to teach and made a home there for her mother and brother the young people became engaged. The following ac- count is in Miss Sanford 's own words, given on her eightieth birthday: ^^Near this time I had the bitterest experience of my life, which I speak of with the utmost reluctance, but MAKIA SANFORD 59 which had so intimate a bearing upon my life and caused me to turn such a square corner that it would not be fair to omit it. You have asked me for the salient matters in my life, and if they are worth anything to you, it would not be right to leave out the most important of them all. '^I became engaged, while at New Haven, to a young theological student who became, eventually, editor of one of the leading Chris- tian ma^gazines of this country. We were both passing through that perilous period when young people, brought up in strictest doctrinal belief, begin to widen their view- point about the essential matters of life — it may interest you to know that I read Darwin's Origin of Species before it was published in this country. This book, among others on the natural sciences and natural philosophy, en- tranced and interested us beyond measure. We felt that they must be true, and yet they disturbed our fundamental faiths. We could not see, as yet, that geology, astronomy and the allied sciences reveal God in his goodness and greatness. We thought they simply con- troverted and tried to disprove God. Poor, blind children that we were. Eeligion was first of all things in my mind. I wrestled through 60 MARIA SANFOUD weeks of doubt and despair. My reason was arrayed against my conviction, and I was the storm center in an awful void between the two. ^^My final peace and light came to me through prayer, and I came to feel that all was one, and that everything was somehow in per- fect tune, thou,gh we could not read the har- monies aright. And so I found the peace which passeth all understanding. But my friend did not; at least, not then, and I was led to break my engagement with him and throw myself more and more deeply into the studies which, I now felt convinced, must fill my life and make up my sum of days upon earth. I passed through this before I was twenty-five, and was given strength and abid- ing peace to take up my studies alone.'' One can only conjecture how different her life would have been if this estrangement had not occurred. But late in life Miss Sanford told a friend that she would have been much happier had she married. To the reader of the biography of the eminent divine whom she men- tioned, it seems that if she had not had this experience her development would have been very different. The young man, at the time of the engagement a professed atheist, came later to be regarded as the most orthodox of evan- MARIA SANFORD 61 gelical preachers, noted for his sincerity, earnestness, and conservatism. Although he never finished his college conrse, he had, later in life, numerous honorary degrees conferred upon him by various colleges. A great travel- ler, a well kno^\'n speaker, he was noted for his mde and accurate knowledge both of facts and of literature, and for his remarkable memory. He once stated that if the entire Bible should be destroyed, he could reproduce two-thirds of it from memory. The promise of power was strong in the young man, and the similarity between the two is very apparent to the reader. Thrice married, he was a strong opponent of woman suffrage. Miss Sanford, though she did not espouse the cause of woman suffrage until after she was seventy years of age, became an ardent exponent of the cause. She died only a few months before suffrage was granted to the women of this country. Miss Sanford, like him, became a great public speaker and preacher; she too was noted for the variety and accuracy of her knowledge. Very few peo- ple could compare with her in her memory of poetry. But it is odd to note that whereas she says that she broke her engagement because she felt that her friend did not hold fast to his religious faith, she herself was loiown for most 62 MARIA SANFORD of her life as unusually broad in her religious views. One of her colleagues at Swarthmore said that Miss Sanford was so far ahead of her time in religious thought that it took him fifty years to catch up with her. Her private happi- ness was sacrificed in this case as it was all her life long for what she believed to be the only right course for a Christian to take. With the removal to New Haven, where she taught for five years, she took another step for- ward. Her work and her salary were both ad- vanced, and she could have her mother and brother at home with her. The nearness to Yale University inspired her to obtain a higher education, but she knew of no college that admitted women. Determined in spite of circumstances to learn as much as possible, she obtained an introduction to the eminent historian John Fiske, and asked his advice about her studies. He very kindly made out a list of reading, mainly in history and sci- ence, which she pursued with the aid of books from the public library in New Haven. It was a stiff course. She read through Grote's His- tory of Greece in twelve big volumes, and was surprised to find the first volume pretty well thumbed, the second less so ; she had to cut the leaves of the remaining ten volumes. She MAKIA SANFORD 63 studied all this history with maps to guide her, took up logic, science, and a number of other subjects, and taught at the same time. In addi- tion she took to board two girls who otherwise could not have gone to school. She did most of the housework because of her mother's frail health, and still had time to help the girls with their lessons. When Miss Sanford was still in the twenties she did something else which for a young woman in those days, one who had to earn her living and keep a home on a salary smaller than any man in the same position would have had, must have required both uncommon cour- age and uncommon generosity. She asked a young woman friend to lend a thousand dollars to three young men in whom she was interested, in order that they might undertake some busi- ness venture in the South. Miss Sanford be- came surety for the payment of the money, in case the young men failed to pay it. The his- tory of that loan, and the payment of the money, principal and interest, is a remarkable instance of high integrity on the part of Miss Sanford and of the friend who made the loan. In 1875, many years after this money had been borrowed, the friend offered to give up the notes she held, if Miss Sanford could raise 64 MARIA SANFORD the principal ; she said she would gladly waive the interest. Miss Sanford thought at that time she could redeem one note in a few weeks. She said she had been delayed in the pa^mient of another debt of nine hundred dollars which she had paid. She assured her creditor that if she was spared life and health she fully intended paying interest for the full time, and should feel just as ready to do so if the notes were redeemed as she should if they were held. Sev- eral times the friend needed the money ; once at the time of her approaching marriage. Miss Sanford felt hurt when she was pressed; and said she could not sleep in her grave if the money was not paid. Her friend never lost faith in Miss Sanford 's integrity, though it was more than fifty years before the entire debt was cancelled. Her friend, some years Miss Sanford 's senior, wrote a letter of hearty congratulation when Carleton College con- ferred a doctor's degree upon Miss Sanford. Even at that time the debt was not paid, and Miss Sanford said the letter meant more to her than the degree. After five years of teaching at New Haven Miss Sanford went again for a year to Middle- field, because she was offered a better salary. But even this, which was thirty-six dollars a MAEIA SANFORD 65 montli and board, did not satisfy her ambition. She wanted to become principal of a graded school, but felt that the people of Connecticut were too conservative to give such a position to a woman. The lasting influence she wielded over her pupils is evident in a letter written by a university professor to her some years after her retirement. The writer had been her pupil that last year in Middlefield; and retained nearly fifty years later vivid memories of the teacher of his childhood. '^It must have been somewhere between 1866 and 1868 when I was from ten to twelve years old, that you kept me after school one after- noon in the Cedar Grove schoolhouse in Middle- field, Connecticut. I had been unusually mis- chievous that day. The other children as well as myself expected that a serious punishment Avas forthcoming. *^You drew me upon your lap, — great, hulk- ing boy that I was, and spoke to me somewhat as follows: *I never expect to become great myself, but hope that some of my pupils will become such. In that way I will hope to be- come great indirectly. You have given me con- siderable trouble by your pranks. You seem to have an active mind, and you can become a 5 66 MARIA SANFORD great man if you will apply yourself diligently and give up your mischief making ways.' *^ Before going home that afternoon, I prom- ised amendment, and from that time on I had and still have great love and admiration for you. In my boyish enthusiasm I used to take you out riding with old Ted, and used to take you out coasting on a great sled that my father had just made for me in his shop. '* After you left Middlefield I did not seem to know how to reach you, and as the years went on I had left only pleasant memories. At this late day I am rejoiced to learn of you and am looking forward with pleasure to seeing you in the early part of January. ' ' The fame of the unusual methods of the young teacher attracted many visitors, among them Mr. W. W. Woodruff, a long time superintend- ent of schools in Chester county, Pennsylvania. In a visit to a school in Connecticut he saw on the blackboard the motto: **We endeavor to do what we undertake.'' He was told it had been placed there by a teacher who had left the school five years before, and that the pupils would not have it erased. This so impressed him that he found out where she was teaching and went to visit her school. She had been called away by the severe illness of some mem- MARIA SANFORD 67 ber of her family. She had made out a sched- ule for the children; and when the visitor ar- rived he found the school running itself. Such an unusual proceeding strengthened the im- pression he had already received, that he had found a remarkable teacher, and he de^t^erguined to try to get her to go to Pennsylvania. The chance occurred the next fall and found Miss Sanford ready to go farther west, where she believed there would not be so much preju- dice against giving women responsible posi- tions as there would be in what she called *Hhe land of steady habits". Superintendent Woodruff told the school board who wanted a teacher that she would not go for the salary they offered — forty dollars a month, but that he believed she would for forty-five dollars. And he offered, if any member of the board was dis- satisfied with the new teacher, or even * cleared his throat over the matter', to pay the extra twenty dollars for the four months' school from his own pocket. CHAPTER III THE TEACHER At the age of thirty-one Miss Sanford left her native state for the first time. She taught first at Parkersville, Pennsylvania, where she made almost a sensation among the Quakers of the community. Though she found herself, on the whole, very much in accord with a sect before unknown to her, yet her sturdy inde- pendence did not easily give way to some of their religious customs, and she had to endure some opposition. She had always been accus- tomed to opening school by reading the Scrip- tures and kneeling in prayer. This custom of course Quakers found obnoxious, but she ad- hered to it in spite of unfavorable criticism. Frhe fame of her unusual methods of teach- in"^ -travelled so fast that in the first four months' term she had two hundred visitors. One novelty which impressed them was the fact that pupils were trained to keep their at- tention fixed on their work when strangers came. Another- was the exercise of turning 68 MARIA SANFORD 69 poetry into prose in order to see whether the children understood the poetry. The superin- tendent visited her school many times. Each visit strengthened his opinion that she was the most remarkable teacher he had known in an educational experience of twenty-five years, during which he had examined three thousand teachers, and made nearly as many visits to schools. He made careful notes of the work of the new teacher for publication in the county School Journal. The phenomenal attendance record of ninety-three per cent, instead of the usual seventy-five per cent of rural schools, testified to the hold she had on the pupils. More than forty years afterward, a year after she had retired from the University of Minne- sota, a doctor in New Jersey, hearing that Miss Sanford was going to be in Chestar County, wrote to Superintendent WoodruffjJ^ **My brother tells me that Miss Maria L. Sanford will be in West Chester soon. As an original pupil of Miss Sanford when she came to Chester County, and one of the bonnie twelve which she prized so highly, I am very anxious to again meet her. ** Forty-two years ago she taught at Parkers- ville and it has always been a recollection of joy when I think of that time, as she did more to 70 MARIA SANFORD create in me the love of knowledge than any teacher that I had the pleasure to go to. If you can give me the time when I can meet her, I shall consider it a great favor. ' ' The ^'bonnie twelve'' were the twelve pupils whose names were beautifully printed on a roll of honor which had been decorated in pen and ink work by Miss Sanford's brother, who was a draughtsman by profession. Each pupil had a copy for his own and another is still carefully preserved by the Sanf ord family. At the conclusion of the first term Miss San- ford's salary was raised one-third for the sum- mer term, and she was offered sixty dollars a month for the next year. But the neighboring town of Unionville offered more, and she went there to teach in Jacob Harvey's Academy. Some of the pupils followed, and so paid a double tax rate in order to be under her instruc- tion. Here as in her earlier schools Miss San- ford's tremendous energy continued to be the marvel of every one. While she was in Union- ville she used often to walk to the home of one of the directors, a distance of ten miles, arriv- ing in time for breakfast, in order to talk over school matters. Here she would pick up the baby, who was ill and fretful, and walk with him on her shoulder while she talked with his father MARIA SANFORD 71 on school matters. It was remarked that she never failed to quiet the baby. One incident of this period is still fondly remembered by the pupils of the school. A fifteen year old girl, one of her pupils, Avas so impressed with Miss Sanford's spirit, that one day when the worst snowstorm known for years came and piled the snow as high as the fences, and every one thought school impos- sible, she insisted that Miss Sanford would not expect any of them to give up school for so small a thing as a snow-storm. So finally her father got a horse, and took his daughter on the saddle in front of him. After a time the drifts were too much for the horse, and the father turned back; but the little girl slipped from the saddle and plunged through on foot. Only a few children who lived near the school were present, but they saw her coming, and with shouts made a path for her. Miss Sanford made a fire in a room upstairs and sent to a near-by house for dry clothing for the child. It was days before she was able to get back home. This incident formed the basis for the school motto, ^^ Nothing is impos- sible to him who wills." The superintendent told that story to every school in the county. In the spring of 1869 twenty-five of the lead- 72 MARIA SANFORD ing citizens in ten toAvns of the county began a campaign to have her elected county superin- tendent. They distributed a pamphlet that set forth her qualifications and signed their names to the leaflet. As to her scholarship they stated that with the exception of the clas- sics she was equal to the graduates of Harvard and Yale. Miss Sanford made a whirlwind campaign, visiting every voter and walking sometimes sixteen miles after school. But she was attempting something too radical; a woman superintendent had never been heard of, and she failed of election, a man gaining over her by a narrow margin. Although she did not become superintendent she was made principal of a school in another town, where she instituted the custom of having the four schools of the town meet together once a month for mutual improvement. Each school took its turn in showing what it had accomplished and demonstrated any new methods that had proved successful. This was carried out so much to the satisfaction of the townspeople that they ,made up an extra purse of money for her. So much antagonism from this arose among some of the teachers that one left the town. Her next innovation was to lecture at a teachers' institute. It came about natur- MARIA SANFORD 73 ally. Teachers' institutes were held once a month and teachers had their choice of con- ducting their regular work or spending the day at the institute. In the absence of one of the regular speakers Miss Sanford was called upon to explain the method of some of her work, and found her real vocation. She be- gan to speak with great timidity, but gained courage as she proceeded, and at the close of the institute had added a new interest to the gatherings. From the first, her force of char- acter, her dignity, her earnestness, and her enthusiasm impressed all who heard her. Added to these she had inherited a voice of remarkable purity, flexibility and power. In a family of beautiful singers she could never carry a tune ; but her speaking voice had such power that it penetrated to the hearts of thou- sands. In order to understand why the young teacher felt timid about speaking before her colleagues, it is necessary to recall that as late as 1856 it was considered almost disgraceful for a woman to speak in public. In the His- tory of Women's Suffrage the statement is made that at the State Teachers' Association in New York, in 1856, the president. Professor Davis, of West Point, in referring to an ad- 74 MAEIA SANFORD dress made by Susan B. Anthony in which she advocated opening schools, colleges and uni- versities to women, said: '*I am opposed to anything that has a tendency to impair the sensitive delicacy and purity of the female character or to remove the restraints of life. These resolutions are the first step in the school which seeks to abolish marriage, and behind this picture I see a monster of social deformity. I would rather have followed my wife or daughter to Greenwood Cemetery than to have had her stand here before this promiscu- ous audience and deliver that address." Public opinion did not change so rapidly in the sixties as it does now; it is safe to say that when Miss Sanford delivered her first address before a teachers' institute in Pennsylvania in 1868 she was braving public opinion almost as much as Susan B. Anthony had done twelve years earlier. The editor of the Pennsyl- vania School Journal, who heard the address, in referring to it afterwards said: **We well remember Miss Sanford 's paper before the State Teachers' Association at Allentown in 1868. It was her first appearance before such a public audience, and she read under an in- tense nervous strain, little dreaming it was the first of thousands of such addresses she MARIA SANFOED 75 was to deliver, warm from her own heart to the hearts of thousands of sympathetic hear- ers. She stood in front of the audience just inside of the rail, a young girl strung to nerv- ous tension, pale but resolute. The paper shook in her hand, but she had something to say, was saying it earnestly as she had done all her life, and her audience gave earnest at- tention. I remember again reading the proof of this paper for the report that was published in the Journal. The summer rain was falling on the maple leaves just outside the open win- dows, and we heard the steady drip of water through the pipes in the darkness. We came upon the suggestive lines quoted in the paper, Reach a hand through time to catch The far-off interest of tears. But it was the personality of the reader by which we were most impressed.'' The same editor on a later occasion asked Miss Sanford to deliver a lecture on astron- omy. He was conducting a Star Study Group in connection with the Young Men's Christian Association, and had been disappointed in a speaker for a certain meeting. When Miss Sanford protested that she knew nothing about astronomy the editor still urged her to 76 MAEIA SANFORD give a talk. She finally consented, and after some preparation she gave an excellent talk, ending with Longfellow's poem. The Occulta- tion of Orion, which she recited with telling effect. From this time on she was sought frequently to give good advice to young teachers. One of her earliest lectures was on Moral Training in School, a subject which was always fore- most in her esteem. Among other thin,gs she held that, although moral training belongs to the home, it also belongs to the school and must begin in the character of the teacher. She emphasized the fact that moral culture never hinders but rather stimulates mental growth. She urged teachers always to bring a school under the dominion of love, to make gentleness and kindness the law of the play- ground, and industry and honesty that of the classroom, *^to fill every heart with love for all that is good and true, and kindle the soul with a longing for a noble life. Then," said she, ^' the intellect will brighten as if kindled by the smile of heaven." Another lecture was entitled How Can We Elevate Our Public Schools? In this forceful lecture she stated that we can work first to gather the children into the schools, then to MARIA SANFOED 77 seek for high scholarship in teachers, then to show how infinitely superior is the spiritual to the physical nature; work to prove that neat- ness and beauty are better than the rod to secure good order; teach thoroughness; per- mit nothin^g in the schoolroom that would be condemned in the drawing-room of a culti- vated family, and teach the dignity of labor. Everyone acquainted with Miss Sanford in her later life will recognize these sentiments as very dear to her heart. Another lecture given many times at teach- ers' institutes was entitled Lessons in Man- ners and Morals. In those days it was a novel idea to advocate the teaching of manners and morals in school, but Miss Sanford was always ahead of her time. Among the things she urged upon the teachers in this lecture were the following: *^ Without in any way enter- ing upon the religious aspect of this question, either by upholding or disclaiming special tenets, I affirm that my experience leads me to believe that love of truth is no more inborn than love of mathematics. There are differ- ent degrees of capacity for each; but each, like the other, must be taught and learned. I maintain that however moral ideas may be ob- tained, moral training is necessary to secure 78 MARIA SANFORD obedience to their requirements . . . But no further than we would trust to the child ^s educa- tion in mathematics to make him a good linguist can we trust his training in either of these to de- velop his moral nature and fit him for the re- sponsibilities of life/' Miss Sanford stated emphatically in this lecture a belief she held throughout her life when she said: *^Our ideas of education are too narrow and exclusive ; we are the devotees of books; we can conceive of no education without them; we are ready to deny the iden- tity of Homer and Shakespeare because they were so independent of such aid. Even those who avoid the cramming process still work too absolutely for scholastic development . . . It is urged by some that this moral training takes time and there is none to spare. Noth- ing was ever more ridiculous than this plea. Is there time enough for grammar, but none for honesty; time for mathematics but not for truth? Shall we devote hours to geography and grudge minutes to temperance? Shall we with scrupulous care insist upon exactness and elegance in speech and neglect that thoughtful kindness which lends a charm to the homeliest phrase? Is there time to pore over battles and learn of kings and none to MARIA SANFORD 79 wake admiration for the faithful performance of daily duties? We can well fore^go some- thing of scholarship for the blessings of patriotism and virtue, but we are called to no such sacrifice. Intellectual progress is ad- vanced instead of being retarded by attention to moral culture. **Many are led to neglect all effort by the feeling of disgust with which they recall the ponderous and prosy lectures by which their young ears were bored. Such teaching should indeed be avoided, and any attempts at stated periods for moral instruction Avill be very likely to degenerate to formality and cant, but if we are filled with a sense of the importance of the subject and of our responsibility, the fitting opportunity will not be wanting." In the course of the lecture Miss Sanford urged that the influence of poetry should never be overlooked in teaching morals and man- ners. She recalled the power that m.usic had over her in her own childhood. ** Music," she said, ^*is a potent charm to drive away evil spirits. I remember in my childhood when we became pettish and quarrelsome our mother would call on us for a song, and by the time it was over the clouds would be dissipated and sunshine return again. Many a rock of 80 MARIA SANFORD offense in the schoolroom may by this simple means be avoided; and not only a weary, rest- less hour be charmed away, but the moral tone of the school raised because the right spirit instead of the wron,g has prevailed. ' ' Because Miss Sanford had taught in all kinds of schools, including a one-room coun- try school, a two-room graded school, a high school, and an academy, she was prepared at teachers' institutes to aid teachers in all kinds of work. She gave them advice on school dis- cipline; she told them how to teach history; she ^ gave instruction in reading. Hei" talks were always very practical. She would urge the teachers to train the voice, and remind them that as a nation we are noted as nasal talkers. She urged them to watch their own faults and try to avoid them. In her advice on reading she urged them not to call on the best readers but to encourage good effort. That last suggestion was characteristic of Miss Sanford; she was known throu,ghout her whole teaching life as a champion of the poor student, the bad boy, the child not interested in school work; and she had remarkable suc- cess with the troublesome child. It was also characteristic of her that she gave talks to the teachers upon neatness and MARIA SANFORD The Teacher MARIA SANFORD 81 order. She had the New England Puritan belief that cleanliness is next to godliness. She taught that neatness of person brings carefulness of morals, and that by raising the standard of neatness in the schoolroom the teachers would raise it in the community. She gave them the Puritan sentiment that goodness of nature is better than beauty of face, and urged them to give more attention to the useful than the useless in dress. With all this advice Miss Sanford urged the teachers not to be sentimental and to avoid the habit of reading either trashy or ** goody'' books, but instead to store the mind with beau- tiful things. So helpful was her instruction to country school teachers that one editor said that Miss Sanford ou,ght to be the president of a normal school, and that she would never find her right place until she became a teacher of teachers. She was as much interested in her fellow teachers, and especially in the younger ones, as she was in her pupils. She used to tell them that there was so much to do in the world that every one in it ought to work with all his might. She constantly warned them to keep their health and to keep on the alert for opportunity. She urged them to keep ever in mind the thought : * * No one but 6 82 MARIA SANFORD myself can do my work/' Another thought she was fond of presenting as long as she lived was that they wonld always have trouble. The world would knock them down sometimes, but they must jump up with clenched fists and go at their work anew. One of her many mot- toes for her own guidance at this time was, **Do something steadily. Forty years study- ing birds." The effect of the mottoes Miss Sanford had for herself and for others all her life might seem to be very small. But there is ample evidence from old students that they had per- manence. One woman writes fifty years after Miss Sanford taught in Chester County, *^I did not have the good fortune to be one of her pupils, but one of the bright spots in my mem- ory is a half day our school spent with hers as visitors. One of the things that impressed me that day was a passage of Scripture she had written along the top of a blackboard in the front of her room: *Buy the truth and sell it not; also wisdom, instruction and un- derstanding.' Before dismissing for the day she had the children rise and read the above in concert. Before I left the schoolroom that motto was mine for a lifetime, and I naturally MAEIA SANFORD 83 always associated the words with Miss San- ford/' In the short time she had been in Pennsyl- vania, she had become so attached to the com- munity that in later years she wrote to a friend in West Chester, ** Those years in Ches- ter County were among the most valuable of my whole life, and endeared me so much to the people that I feel that I have almost the inter- est and claim of a mother in all that concerns that glorious country/' One of the many visitors to Miss Sanford's school was a member of the board of the new Quaker College at Swarthmore, Pennsylvania. He felt that such a teacher would be a great help in the college ; and when the professor of history at Swarthmore broke down in health, Miss Sanford was engaged as an instructor there. She entered the college in 1869, as teacher of English and History and the next year was made professor of history, the first woman professor in the United States. When she went to Swarthmore, the mother and brother removed to Philadelphia, and Miss Sanford maintained the home there, always going in from Swarthmore over week ends. The mother, always frail, died of pneumonia in 1874. Maria adored her lovely mother, but she 84 MARIA SANFORD had learned from the mother's bravery at the death of the father not to give way to over- whelming grief. Her idolized brother then re- mained her chief interest. When he married a year later, Miss Sanford concentrated her at- tention on an orphaned niece who had come under her care when she first went to Swarth- more, and who remained with her at Swarth- more until she was graduated in 1880. The following letter tells how she came to have the little girl with her : * ' My dear Aunt : I write to you in tears and wish to tell you that I have told a lie and would not own it to Aunty. I have the dreadful fault and have told a great many. Aunty sent me away this morn- ing because I would not own it, and came up this noon, but I told another ( !) She told me she should send me away if I did not choose to stay and obey her wishes. **She bid me farewell this noon and said I could see her no more, that she should write to Uncle to come out and take me ; and I write to you to see if you will take me. I will do my best to obey your wishes if you will only let me come. But I don't want you to take me if you think I shall trouble you a great deal. I am MARIA SANFORD 85 going to strive hard to break up this dreadful fault/' It was doubtless when Miss Sanford was helping the little girl to break up this dreadful fault that she sometimes kept her niece shut into her room for a day at a time, and gave the other girls in the school the idea that she was too strict with her relative. The girl students used to throw offerings into the room through the transom above the door, and visit with the little prisoner by the same means. The niece lived with her in the intimate association of mother and daughter. A passage from a letter written by the niece gives a glimpse of their life : *^ At Swarthmore she had her study in the main or central part of the building. The long girls' dormitory, where she and I shared our sleeping room was near, and at the opposite end of the building was the boys' dormitory. One night I was wakened by hearing her jump out of bed hast- ily, and when I asked her what was the matter, she said, * Listen.' I at once heard a dull noise; and she, becoming satisfied that some disorder was astir in the boys' region, quickly slipped on slippers and wrapper and got over to the scene of conflict at once. The boys had tied up the door of the three or four men in charge of 86 MARIA SANFORD their dormitory, and were having a riotous pil- low fight, not expecting the noise would carry to the other end of the building. So she caught them red handed and white-robed, escorted them to the various doors they had tied up, and had them release their prisoners. There were no more pillow fights after that. ' ' A letter reveals her power over her Swarth- more students: *^When, as a Freshman, I sat in a somewhat bare and dreary classroom, its air carrying that faint odor of chalk and black- boards — which I had learned thoroughly to de- spise — the door opened and there swept in a presence, a power, a force which might have been called violent excepting for its control and direction — in the shape and person of Maria Sanford. **I, and every student in the room, became instantly and vividly alert and expectant. The following hour seemed incredibly short. Miss Sanford opened a new and wonderful field to eyes eager to see, but till then blind. **To me, history had been a matter of mne- monics; dates — learned only for examination and as quickly forgotten ; names — dead, dry and lifeless; events having no bearing upon the present — all assembled in book form with the main purpose of robbing youth of its joy. MARIA SANFORD 87 *'Biit the names became living, moving, act- ing men; the dates — points of departure; the incidents as real as thongh I were seeing them — all with a bearing on the life abont me. ^^This was my first impression of Maria San- ford. Her name brings before me her clear eyes, her broad forehead, her quick and force- ful movements, her voice ringing with enthu- siasm, and best of all — her spiritual and intel- lectual force, which has so largely and helpfully influenced the lives of the thousands who were privileged to know her. ' ' Miss Sanford never wasted a moment. She made announcements to her class as she walked to the platform. They never knew when a test Avas coming. When she gave one she called *^ Pencils and paper" as she opened the door, and began her questions at once. The papers were passed from pupil to pupil for correction. In the freshman class she used to have a test like a spelling lesson in which the pupils stood. She gave a date; the pupil told what historical fact occurred on that date. If he failed, the first one who gave it correctly stepped above him. She used to assign epochs in history on which pupils were expected to do outside read- ing and prepare special papers. She also used to assign a certain number of pages of history 88 MAEIA SANFORD to be condensed into a four minute recitation. Besides this each pupil was required to write several formal papers each term. In her zeal she was often in danger of encroaching upon the time due other departments. Pupils would work over time for her. ^*One of the features of the school at Swarth- more was an evening study period of one and a quarter hours of undisturbed quiet study in a large hall where all except Juniors and Sen- iors assembled. President Magill and Miss Sanford were the only ones of the faculty who could maintain the required discipline, and so few of the faculty ever attempted to take charge of study hour. There were large doors from the back of the room opening into the hall ; and Miss Sanford usually staid in the hall or per- haps went into her study. She almost never staid in the room to watch them, but the effect of her presence kept the pupils in perfect order in the study hour. She had especial patience with students who were backward and had not had so many advantages as the average, and would do double work with them to enable them to rank with their more fortunate companions. '* She was greatly beloved not only by the stu- dents and teachers, but even by the domestics of the school. At Christmas time it was her MARIA SANFORD 89 habit to go to the housekeeper who had charge of the many negro servants, and ask her who among them were not well known or popular, and who would be liable to be neglected at Christmas time. She always got for them a gay bandanna turban or some other gift dear to the darkey heart, that there might be none among them forgotten." In appearance at this time she was notice- able. Her hair, cut short, was already turning gray. She always wore plain black gowns, with long sleeves and high necked collar edged with immaculate white. Her costume was always the same, always exquisitely neat, made of the very best materials, loosely fitted, simply but- toned, with full skirts ; it allowed for the fullest possible action, and was noticeably unbecom- ing. Her rapid, long-limbed stride took no ac- count of clothing and always left all her habili- ments floating behind her in the wind of her progress, as one student remarked, *4ike the draperies of the Victory of Samothrace. ' ' Al- though Swarthmore is a Quaker college, and the people were accustomed to plain dress, even Miss Sanford's warmest admirers bemoaned the fact that she would not dress more becom- ingly. Two men fifty years later spoke of the ugly congress gaiters she wore. She never 90 MAEIA SANFORD changed her style of dress as long as she taught. The severity and simplicity saved both time, thought and money, that she believed she could use to better advantage in other ways. But she was heard to say after she was eighty years of age that if she had her life to live over again she should do differently about dress. With- out doubt she might have smoothed some rough paths for herself if when she was younger she had dressed more nearly in the accepted fashion. A student describes her at that time as tall, slender, stately, spiritual, with mobile features which lightened and darkened according to the emotions within, filled with enthusiasm for her subject ; the upturned faces of her students fol- lowing her every gesture as she traced some historic event upon a map or outline upon the board. She never prepared any written lectures in undergraduate work, but depended on sup- plementing the classroom work with brief ex- temporaneous talks in further illustration of the subject. She was accustomed to making fre- quent and apt quotations from her wide ac- quaintance with poetry, and thus made history an introduction to good literature. From rapid fire drill in Eoman History with the freshmen to informal talks and discussions with wide col- MARIA SANFOED 91 lateral reading of the advanced classes, there was never a dull moment anywhere. Student after student testifies to an enduring love of his- tory aroused in her classes at Swarthmore. Henry of Navarre, Louis XI, and others lived again for those boys and girls. Yet they used to think they were very clever when they got Miss Sanford to give the recitation hour to de- scriptive narrative or to poetry connected with the time. They knew later that they did not deceive her, but that she was choosing to give these things when she saw the time and the interest right for them. In addition to her work in history she con- ducted one class in the elements of political economy, based on John Stuart Mill as a text, and she had charge of all the public speaking in the college. In those days every teacher had a heavy program; Miss Sanford in addition to her teaching addressed teachers' institutes in the adjacent counties, gave courses of lectures on history and political economy in summer schools, and eventually was called upon to lec- ture in Ohio, Indiana, and Maryland. Before she left Swarthmore she was giving illustrated lectures on the art of European countries, a nat- ural outgrowth from her work in history. The trait, however, for which she was held in 92 MARIA SANFOED fondest remembrance was the deep, personal interest she took in the moral welfare of some of the young men inclined to be wayward. She placed character rather than scholarship first, and had an especial fondness for boys who were bright and at the same time bad. She used to say ** There are plenty of people to love God^s children, so I look after the devil's. '' One boy who was expelled from college she took to her home and kept for a time. After she went to Minnesota his parents sent him to her when he again got beyond their control. At one time there were a number of trouble- some boys in the school. They broke all the rules (one hundred of them which the presi- dent had posted) and the authorities regarded them as very wild and intemperate. Most of the faculty wished to expel them, but Miss Sanford pleaded for them. She took them under her especial care and gained their confidence, u.ntil they would confess their wrongdoing freely to her. She finally succeeded in getting them to reform their habits and they all kept on at school. Sunday afternoon was a great day for those she chose to take to walk with her. The coun- try was comparatively wild then, and the woods were very enticing. She used to lead MARIA SANFORD 93 her little band through them, and then com- ing to some nice spot to rest she would tell them stories and recite poems. She seemed to have an intuition of what they were going to need in life. Then there were her books at their service. Few could know how much it meant to them. It was not a matter of instruc- tion alone between her and her pupils; every- thing she had was at their disposal. She gave out of her life and her heart, and it was no wonder she had such power over refractory boys. More and more time as the years went on Miss Sanford spent at teachers' institutes. In 1873 she was the only woman speaker at the state association, and in fact for many years was the only woman to lecture. Even as late as 1878 the institute circulars contained the statement that **Lady teachers are expected to prepare essays to be read at the day and evening sessions. '^ But ^^Miss Sanford of Swarthmore will be present the entire ses- sion" was a drawing card; and she was the only woman named. In 1876 she opened at Beaumont a course of six lectures by different speakers. Her subject was Honesty in Pub- lic and Private Life. Single tickets were ten cents; course tickets fifty cents. Her lifelong 94 MARIA SANFORD custom was to charge comparatively little for her lectures. From lecturiu^g on primary teaching, geography, history, neatness and order, reading, composition, school discipline, she added to her subjects Luther and the Reformation, and The Labor Question. The Winter holiday seasons were utilized, insti- tutes being held at those seasons; and Miss Sanford finally sent out notices that she could give three days a week to such work. A course of fifteen public lectures in history was finally arranged, beginining with a general survey; then with several lectures each on Greece, Egypt, Carthage, Rome, Venice, France, Eng- land. The course began in June, one lecture a week at first. Later the lectures occurred oftener for the convenience of her audiences. This course made the transition to the art lec- tures of later years both natural and easy. In fact the lectures with slides, an unsual accompaniment in these days, began at this time. The Pennsylvania School Journal of Sep- tember 1878 had the following significant re- marks about one of the lectures: *'The Labor Question was presented by Miss Maria L. San- ford, Professor of History at Swarthmore College in Delaware County. This was one MARIA SANFORD 95 of the ablest papers of the session, and we heartily commend it to the reader. The sub- ject was discussed from a high standpoint, which affords the advanta^ge of a broad view to the unprejudiced student of history. Miss Sanford's studies have eminently fitted her to treat this subject from such a point of view, as perhaps no other member of the association is equally at home with herself in the wide field of historical literature. ** *The trouble of our times,' she holds, *is not accidental, but part of the long struggle of centuries, a phase of that great strife between the privileged class and the multitude, between manhood and caste, which constitutes three- fourths of the whole history of the civilized nations. ' She preaches the gospel of labor in no hollow-sounding phrase, and, what is bet- ter, practices what she preaches, for in the circle of our acquaintance we know no one who is a more enthusiastic, more tireless, or more effective worker. ' ' The quotation from the lecture has a very modern sound, and the remark about Miss San- ford was one that was very often on the lips of her admirers and friends. It was largely because she did practice what she preached that her words carried conviction. A man 96 MARIA SANFORD from Poughkeepsie, N. Y., wrote to her in a letter in 1880 : * * I feel that yonr lectures are among the best of those on our platform. I believe in soul power and earnestness.'' He is writing to tell her that a New York friend of his wants her name in his lecture bureau, where he has the names of Colonel Homer B. Sprague, Wendell Phillips, and Mrs. Mary A. Livermore. As this was just at the time Miss Sanford went to Minnesota, she probably never gave her name to the bureau. It would be neither right nor best to omit the account of the struggles and hardships which finally resulted in sending Miss Sanford to a larger field of work. If she had been an ordinary person the hardships of her life would have broken her in her youth. In her case the result of the smelting process was pure gold. As has recently been said of a great states- man, there are natures which require austere living always in order to bring out the best in them. The statesman's fall from power was credited to the fact that the austerity of his early life was replaced later by luxurious liv- ing. Maria Sanford not only never lived lux- uriously, but she had many and fiery trials which came at times near to breaking her won- derful spirit. Three different factors entered MAEIA SANFORD 97 into the final determination to resign her posi- tion at Swarthmore. Although Miss Sanford was the first woman professor and for some years the only one, there were other women teaching at Swarth- more. One of these disliked Miss Sanford. A strong woman herself, devoted to the inter- ests of Swarthmore, she became little short of a persecutor, and she made no secret of her enmity. Miss Sanford was never known to speak harshly of her, but it was partly due to the unhappiness she caused her that Miss San- ford wished to leave the college. Another woman among other things felt that Miss San- ford was neglecting her classes by givin,g so much time to lecturing and teaching in insti- tutes. Related to some members of the board of trustees, she imbued them with her ideas; so that the very thing which today is one of the greatest factors in favor of a college pro- fessor, was at that time considered a disad- vantage. In this as in so many other things Maria Sanford was a pioneer. It was years before it was considered a mark of distinction for a college professor to leave his classes in order to deliver public lectures. The trouble caused by Miss Sanford 's lectures induced the president to write in regard to the matter: 7 98 MAEIA SANFORD *'By one of those strange perversities in the affairs of this world, the very person who has done the most for our discipline here, whose moral influence is the greatest and best, has been the victim of a most unprovoked attack, but fortunately at the very point where she is strongest. She only needs time and a full knowledge of the facts and motives from the be- ginning, on the part of all, not only to defend herself, but to make all concerned marvel that any combination of circumstances could have existed which could make it necessary to enter upon a defense/' Maria Sanford was born to lecture as well as to teach, and it never occurred to her to give up lecturing in order to please some of the college authorities. She knew that she was doing much good, and she believed then as most people do now, that a college professor was not necessarily neglecting classes because he was giving public lectures. In 1878 her salary was cut for a year from two thousand dollars to fifteen hundred. Although it was not stated that this was because of dissatis- faction with her lecturing, it was easily in- ferred that such was the case. The President wrote to a number of the col- lege trustees that under the circumstances he MARIA SANFORD 99 could not ask Miss Sanford, as he had expected to do, to take more work. She at once made application for a position elsewhere. The President, in writing to the president of an- other college on her behalf, averred that she was the best teacher he had met in his experi- ence of twenty-five years. But she remained some years more at Swarthmore. The next year in a letter to a friend of his who had charge of a school the President wrote that Maria Sanford wished to give a course of six lectures to her school. He continues, **I want thee to know her better — I consider her indi- rect influence over the students here as even of greater value to Swarthmore than her in- struction in history, highly as I esteem her as an instructor in that department. '^Our chief lack is the loss of the time of Miss Sanford for three days of each week, making it necessary to sacrifice the history in our large classes A and B and the instruction in Political Economy in the junior class. If this were remedied I could not ask to have the college in better condition." The three days a week for institute work and lecturing were doubtless granted because of the five hundred dollar cut in salary. The president makes his attitude^m regard to the 100 MAEIA SANFORD matter clear to her in a letter in which he says : **Thon hast enough extra work, I am sure, to afford to lose a few classes once in a great while, and no one shall censure thee for that." In appreciation of her lectures a friend in Baltimore, Maryland, wrote: **At a meeting of Friends they resolved to adjourn their meetin,g over next week in order to have op- portunity to enjoy thy lecture. They never did that before to hear any lecturer. It really was for thee that all those Friends entered into the above arrangement." A letter written by a member of the firm of Houghton, Mifflin & Company, Publishers, of Boston, in 1905, shows the effect of her teach- ing on one student: *^My dear and beloved Professor : Recently you have been brought to my mind by a rather striking coincidence. I was re- ceiving a call from an intimate friend, and we were comparing notes on teachers who had most influenced our lives and thoughts. I said that one who influenced me strongly was a pro- fessor of Ancient History who was so inter- esting and enthusiastic that even the driest parts of the subject became interesting. Mrs. C. said that reminded her of a professor who MARIA SANFORD 101 taught English Literature at the University of Minnesota, and I asked could it by any pos- sibility be Professor Sanford and wonderful to relate, it was. I have a picture in my mind of you as you used to sweep into the lecture hall brimming over with enthusiasm so that everyone in the class felt lifted up and carried off to the heights of Ol^onpus. The leaven you implanted has caused me to read exten- sively in Mediaeval and Modern History, and Social and Economic History." Another written by a woman in Somerville, Mass., in 1913, has this passage: *^One of my dearest pictures on memory's wall is of you in your alcove room and your smile of welcome when I came to call upon you. If I were asked for the names of those who had most influenced me, yours would lead all the rest, for your teaching gave me a love for history which has never left me." Letters from the president of Swarthmore to Miss Sanford the year after she went to Min- nesota show that he felt the loss of her influ- ence over the students. ^^The place that thou held is not likely to be so filled in this genera- tion. We sadly miss the zeal and enthusiasm which thou never failed to inspire in thy classes, 102 MAEIA SANFORD and in my time I never hope to see it rekindled to the same extent. Need I tell thee how much I miss thy influence upon all the students, and especially upon the children of the preparatory school. Few are gifted with the power to con- trol so effectually and withal so cheerfully as thou art, and thy inspiring influence upon classes I sadly miss. I had a recent conversa- tion with a teacher who had trouble with cer- tain students, and I advised her to go into the classroom always in a kindly frame of mind toward them if possible, and try the effect. She reported to me that she observed a complete change in these students. Besides many other valuable things I learned this principle of gov- ernment especially from thee/^ Another factor which few people knew any- thing about caused Miss Sanf ord heartache and despair. In a letter to an intimate friend writ- ten in 1875 is this significant passage : **With me as the years go by, I feel that I am losing hope. I feel less strong, less confident, less sure of what I am, of what I can do, of the good in what I have done, and even in what I have hoped for. This seems to me the saddest of all the losses which the years have brought. Mrs. Browning has expressed this beautifully in these lines from The Lost Bower : MAEIA SANFORD 103 I have lost the dream of Doing, And the other dream of Done. But in spite of all these things I hold that we may and should be glad and rejoice ; if we have done earnest, faithful work, we have a right to triumph, to rejoice over our success.'' Miss Sanford was at this time thirty-eight years old. She was now to undergo the most tragic of all her experiences at Swarthmore, and the one which must have been finally the deciding factor in her resignation. Soon after the letter just quoted above, she experienced a memorable event which colored all her later life. September 24, 1875, was ever after to her and one other member of the faculty of Swarth- more a day to be referred to again and again as a wonderful day. She loved and was loved by a colleague with whom marriage was impossi- ble. Even to a woman of Miss Sanford 's lofty soul and iron courage the five remaining years at Swarthmore must have been little short of torture. During these years she disciplined herself constantly by writing mottoes and * * thoughts ' ' for her guidance. As they are the chief means by which she revealed the inner working of her nature some of them are quoted. Miss Sanford was not a voluminous letter 104 MARIA SANFORD writer, seldom writing except upon business matters. One motto which she gave to the man she loved he referred to twenty-five years later. *^The cabalistic * After suffering, glory' brought a new peace to my mind. ' ' And at a later time, <