Mary S. Peake
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Lewis C. Lockwood >> Mary S. Peake
MARY S. PEAKE,
The Colored Teacher at Fortress Monroe.
BY REV. LEWIS C. LOCKWOOD,
FIRST MISSIONARY TO THE FREEDMEN AT FORTRESS MONROE, 1862.
WITH AN APPENDIX.
PUBLISHED BY THE
AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY,
28 CORNHILL, BOSTON.
[Illustration: Mary S. Peake]
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I. PAGE
Birth and Parentage.--Education.--Religious
Convictions.--Prayers in the Tomb.--Union with
the Church.--Labors for the Poor.--Marriage. 5
CHAPTER II.
Commencement of the Mission at Fortress Monroe.--Flight
of the Rebels from Hampton.--Burning of the
Town.--The Place reoccupied by Freedmen. 16
CHAPTER III.
Opening of Religious Services and Schools.--Mrs. Peake
a Teacher.--Singing in the Schools.--Christmas Festival. 30
CHAPTER IV.
Failure of Health.--Religious Joy.--Farewell
Messages.--Death.--Funeral.--Conclusion. 39
APPENDIX. 53
MARY S. PEAKE.
CHAPTER I.
Birth and Parentage.--Education.--Religious
Convictions.--Prayers in the Tomb.--Union with the
Church.--Labors for the Poor.--Marriage.
The subject of this narrative was born in Norfolk, Virginia, in 1823.
Her maiden name was Mary Smith Kelsey. Her mother was a free colored
woman, very light, and her father a white man--an Englishman of rank
and culture. She was a very lovely child in person and manners, and as
she grew up, developed traits of character which made her a universal
favorite.
When she was six years old, her mother sent her to Alexandria, for
the purpose of attending school. She remained there in school about
ten years, residing with her aunt, Mary Paine. Mrs. Paine occupied a
house belonging to Mr. Rollins Fowle, and near his residence. This
gentleman and his family were distinguished for their kindness to
colored people. He frequently bought slaves who were in danger of
being sold into bad hands, gave them their freedom, and set them up in
business. John Paine, Mary's uncle, was one whom he freed in this way.
Mary was a great pet in Mr. Fowle's family, and was treated almost
like a daughter.
A schoolmate of hers, now residing in Providence, Rhode Island, says
Mary was a very amiable girl, and a good student. They for a time
attended a select colored school taught by a colored woman. Afterward
they attended a colored school taught by white teachers. The last
teacher was Mr. Nuthall, an Englishman. He taught till a law of
Congress enacted that the law of Virginia in relation to free colored
people should prevail in the District of Columbia. This was several
years before Alexandria was retroceded to Virginia. This law closed
all colored schools in the city. Mary was compelled to leave the
school in consequence of being informed of as having come from
Virginia.
While at school, Mary acquired a good English education, and, in
addition to this, a knowledge of various kinds of needlework, and also
dress-making. Her aunt was a devoted Christian, and no doubt had a
very happy influence on Mary. Her mother also was converted when Mary
was two or three years old. Under these influences she was early the
subject of serious impressions. Though fond of general reading and
study, there was no book she loved so well as the Bible. This was her
companion and text book, and she committed large portions of it to
memory.
When sixteen years old, having finished her education, she returned to
her mother, at Norfolk. Soon afterward, those religious elements which
had existed from early childhood--grown with her growth and
strengthened with her strength--became dominant by the grace of God,
and asserted their power over her.
Near her residence was a garden, connected with a large old mansion,
between Fenchurch and Church Streets. In this garden was a dilapidated
family tomb. It was impressed on her mind that she must go into this
tomb to pray. At the dead hour of night she sought this gloomy abode
of moldering coffins and scattered bones. As she entered and knelt in
the death cell, she trembled with a fear which her prayers could not
dissipate. Quickly and stealthily she retraced her steps, and hurried
back to her home. Yet the next night, this girl of sixteen had the
courage to seek the dismal place again, and the next night yet again,
with similar results. But at length light broke upon the darkness of
the tomb, and it became a place of delightful communion with her Lord;
whence it was afterward called "Mary's parlor." At the midnight hour,
she left the tomb, and broke the silence of the night with a jubilant
song, fearless of the patrol. The song was this strain of Watts, in
which many a saint has poured forth his soul:--
"Stand up, my soul, shake off thy fears,
And gird the gospel armor on;
March to the gates of endless joy,
Where Jesus, thy great Captain, 's gone.
"Hell and thy sins resist thy course,
But hell and sin are vanquished foes;
Thy Jesus nailed them to the cross,
And sung the triumph when he rose.
"Then let my soul march boldly on,
Press forward to the heavenly gate;
There peace and joy eternal reign,
And glittering robes for conquerors wait.
"There shall I wear a starry crown,
And triumph in almighty grace;
While all the armies of the skies
Join in my glorious Leader's praise."
This strain fell on the waking ears of ladies in the house adjacent to
the tomb, and they inquired, "What sweet music is that? Who is
serenading at this hour?" Little did they know the spirit-promptings
of that song.
Soon after this, Mary went to visit some friends in Hampton. As she
entered the yard, and approached the house, she sang another
expressive hymn of Watts:--
"Firm as the earth thy gospel stands,
My Lord, my Hope, my Trust;
If I am found in Jesus' hands,
My soul can ne'er be lost.
"His honor is engaged to save
The meanest of his sheep;
All whom his heavenly Father gave
His hands securely keep.
"Nor death nor hell shall e'er remove
His favorites from his breast;
Safe on the bosom of his love
Shall they for ever rest."
Her friends opened the door at the sound of the tender music, and as
they looked on her face, and listened to her song, they were overcome,
and could not restrain their emotions.
Soon afterward, she united with the First Baptist Church in Norfolk,
on Bute Street. The pastor was Rev. James A. Mitchell, who served the
church from the time of Nat Turner's insurrection till his death,
about 1852. He was emphatically a good man, and a father to the
colored people--a very Barnabas, "son of consolation" indeed. A
considerable portion of his church were colored people, and he would
visit them at their houses, take meals with them, and enter into their
affairs, temporal and spiritual, with a true and zealous heart. He
never loved slavery; his private opinion was against it, but he was
obliged to be cautious in the expression of his sentiments. He endured
great trials for this proscribed class, and was almost a martyr in
their behalf, his pastorate having begun just after Nat Turner's
insurrection, which caused great persecution and restriction of
privileges. But the Lord was with him, and made him to triumph.
Mary's mother says that she delighted to visit the poor in Norfolk,
and especially the aged. A very old man, in the suburbs, often came to
her door, and never went empty away; and frequently at evening she
would go and carry him warm tea, and in the winter she brought him
wood in small armfuls. When he died, he said he wanted Mary to have
all that belonged to him. Though he was scarcely worth three cents, it
was a rich heart gift.
Her Christian course was marked with usefulness. Self-denying devotion
to the glory of God and the good of others characterized her earlier,
as her later career. A deacon of the church on whom the writer called
when recently in Norfolk, says she had a strong desire for the
conversion of souls, and was often found exhorting them to repentance.
Other members of the church bore the highest testimony to her uniform
Christian deportment.
In 1847, Mary's mother was married to Thompson Walker, and bought a
house in Hampton, where they resided until the town was burned by the
rebels in 1861. Though sustaining herself by her needle, Mary found
time for many labors of love. Among other things, she originated a
benevolent society, called the "Daughters of Zion," designed for
ministration to the poor and the sick. It is still in existence.
Her house, like that of Mary and Martha of old, was a place of
spiritual resort. There the pastor, deacons, and other leading members
of the church found congenial society. She early began the exercise of
her gifts as a teacher. At that time, fifteen years ago, she had among
her pupils Thompson Walker, her stepfather, William Thornton, and
William Davis, all now able and eloquent exhorters. She was afterward
of great service to others, who are now efficient exhorters and
members of the church. Up to the time of the burning of Hampton, she
was engaged in instructing children and adults, through her shrewdness
and the divine protection eluding the vigilance of conservators of the
slave law, or, if temporarily interfered with, again commencing and
prosecuting her labors of love with cautious fearlessness, and this
in the midst of the infirmities attending a feeble constitution.
In 1851, Mary was married to Thomas Peake, formerly a slave, but
afterward a free man, light colored, intelligent, pious, and in every
respect a congenial companion, with whom she lived happily till her
decease.
The bereaved husband bears affectionate testimony to the strong mind
and sound judgment which dwelt in that feeble frame. He loves to speak
of his indebtedness to her richly stored mind for much of his
knowledge of the Bible. At his request, she would sit for hours and
relate Bible history. Others of our leading brethren also gratefully
acknowledge that they have drawn largely from the same storehouse of
biblical and varied knowledge.
CHAPTER II.
Commencement of the Mission at Fortress
Monroe.--Flight of the Rebels from Hampton.--Burning
of the Town.--The Place reoccupied by Freedmen.
About the first of September, 1861, the writer commenced the mission
at Fortress Monroe, under the auspices of the American Missionary
Association, and was quartered in a building called the _Seminary_.
Three months before this, the Union troops entered Hampton from Old
Point. The exciting scenes connected with this event have been
narrated to me by eye-witnesses. Among these troops were Duryea's
Zouaves, called by the people "red men," from the color of their
dress.
The utmost consternation seized the inhabitants of Hampton, when they
found the Union troops were approaching. Many of the colored people
even were in a state of suspense. All kinds of stories had been told
in regard to what the Yankees would do with them. Yet hope
predominated over fear. They could hardly believe that the Yankees
meant them any harm. But unmitigated fear filled the breasts of the
secessionists. There had been loud boasts of what they would do; but
when the red trowsers approached, their bravery all ran down into
their nimble feet. The battery of several large guns which they had
planted, and which might have done great mischief to the Union troops,
had they been bravely manned, was drawn off. In their confusion, the
bridge was first fired, and then the fire extinguished. Men, women,
and children ran screaming in every direction, crying, "They come!
they come! What shall we do?"
Here is a man within doors, gun in hand, pacing the floor in
consternation, ever and anon rushing to the window, and casting a
frightened glance in the direction of the road from the fort, till he
espies the Turk-like looking forms, moving "double quick," when he
darts from the house, screaming, "They are coming! they are coming!"
Off he flies, with the fleetness of fear, and in a few moments is seen
no more.
But in one house there are _two_ individuals, fearless and calm: Mrs.
Peake and her little daughter Daisy sit alike unalarmed; the one in
child-like faith, the other in child-like simplicity. Mrs. Walker,
Mrs. Peake's mother, is in a neighbor's house. Some time previous, the
lady of the house, an intimate friend, having great confidence in
sister Walker's prayers, said to her, "Sally, you must pray harder."
"Oh," said she, "I do pray as hard as I can."
"How do you pray, Sally?"
"I pray that the Lord's will may be done."
"You don't pray right, Sally," said one of them; "you must pray for
Jeff. Davis."
"Oh," said she, "I pray as well as I can, and as hard as I can. I am
praying all the time."
"That's right," said the other; "pray on, Sally--your prayer will
surely be heard. You can't pray any better prayer than you do. Pray
that the Lord's will may be done: I am sure it is the Lord's will that
the Yankees should not come here to disturb us; and I have faith to
believe they will not. Pray on, Sally; pray as hard as you can."
"I will, ma'am."
Time passed on; and now, on that fearful morning, just after the sun
has peeped above the horizon, lo, the Yankees! The strong faith above
expressed fails the possessor; and she, who would scarcely have set
foot on the ground for very delicacy, and who would not have been seen
riding out, unless in a fine carriage, drawn by fine horses, elegantly
harnessed, is now heard calling for any old horse or mule, and any
rickety wagon or cart, with rope harness--any thing--any thing to take
her out of the reach of the Yankees! Masters and mistresses are now
turned fugitives.
Here is one of many interviews between masters and slaves.
"What's the matter, master?"
"Oh, the Yankees are coming!"
"Are they? are they? What shall I do, master?" with affected tokens of
fear.
"Get out of the town as soon as you can."
"Oh, master, I'm afraid to leave the house. Oh, those Yankees! Do you
think they will hurt me?"
"Yes, they'll take you and sell you off to Cuba. Perhaps they'll kill
you."
"Will they, master?"
"Yes, I tell you; why don't you leave the town, you rascal?"
"Oh, master, I don't know what to do. You an't a-going to leave us for
the Yankees to catch; are you?"
"Yes, I'm off, and you better be off with yourself--if you don't I'll
shoot you."
"Oh, master, don't shoot me--don't leave me!"
"There they come!"
"Where, master, where? where?"
"I can't stop--good by--you better be off!"
But Tony laughs in his sleeve, and says, with upturned eyes, "I'm not
afraid of the Yankees! Bless God, old master's gone--hope he'll never
come back any more!"
The Zouaves, on "double quick," approach nearer, and up rides one of
the secessionists, in hot haste.
"What's the matter, master? What's the matter?" inquires an
intelligent negro.
"Oh, matter enough, you villain. You brought all this trouble on us. I
am disappointed in you; I thought you would stick by us; but you
desert your best friends in extremity. You won't find those Yankees
what you expect."
"Oh, master, won't you stay and protect us?"
"No; good by, you villain. I'm out of town, and so you had better be,
very quick." And on he flies.
The Zouaves are now crossing the bridge,--now they enter the
town,--and as they pass through street after street, with hats off,
they bow politely to the colored people, who cheer them from doors and
windows. Now every fear is dissipated. Colored knees are bent, and
colored lips praise the Lord. The hope that had all along predominated
over fear is more than met, and the town is full of gladness. The
tidings spread, and the place is soon thronged with colored people
from the country around.
But how different with the white inhabitants! Go with me to the
Sinclair estate--a mile or two north of the town. One of the officers
rides up to the house, and says,--
"Do you own this place?"
"Yes."
"Well, deliver up all your horses."
Sam Simpson, the colored foreman, says, "Boys, bring up the horses."
"Oh, sir, spare an old man!"
"Hurry out those horses!"
"Oh, Sam, stand by me! Oh, dear, I shall die! Don't leave me! Don't
leave me!"
Poor old man! His ill-gotten riches are taking wings; the day of
retribution has come upon him, and, in spite of a sense of its
justice, we can not withhold our pity.
The colored people were soon set to work in constructing the battery
in Hampton, under the superintendence of Mr. Pierce, of the
Massachusetts regiment, since then superintendent of the Port Royal
cotton culture. They worked with a will, so that he was obliged to
suspend labor during the heat of the day, lest they should over-exert
themselves. After a month had elapsed, the battle of Big Bethel was
fought, and _not_ won; and soon after, the disastrous defeat and
flight of Bull Run occurred.
To reenforce the army of the Potomac a large part of the troops at
Fortress Monroe were ordered away. General Butler, concluding that he
had not sufficient force to hold Hampton, ordered it to be evacuated.
He gave a week's notice to the colored people to leave, and find
refuge on the other side of the bridge. But many of them delayed too
long, and were able to move but a part of their goods; in consequence
of which they suffered serious loss.
Among these was Mr. Peake. He lost a large part of his furniture, as
well as his two houses. The order of the rebel General Magruder to
fire the place was a gross exhibition of vandalism, without the
justifiable plea of military necessity. The incendiary work began on
the west side of the village, and spread toward the wharves. Hemmed in
by the conflagration on one side, and our firing on the opposite
shore, many of the executers of the order fell dead or wounded, and
were consumed by the voracious flames. Those who witnessed it said it
was an appalling sight.
The evacuation took place on the 7th and the conflagration on the 8th
of August. I arrived about a month afterward, and on visiting Hampton,
in company with the provost marshal, Captain Burleigh, I found only
about half a dozen houses that had escaped. One large house had had
its floor fired, but the fire had mysteriously gone out, without doing
much damage. A large new building, a little out of town, was also
standing uninjured. But the most of the village was a charred ruin;
the unsightly chimneys, and a few more or less dilapidated walls,
surviving to tell the story of what had been.
Thus the place remained in abandoned isolation during the winter. But
with the beginning of spring, the progress of our arms opened Hampton
to reoccupation. It was thought proper that those who, during the
winter, had been confined in large houses, overcrowded, should at
once build up the ruins, and provide themselves homes. To this end,
application was made for an appropriation of government lumber for
past services. Some lumber was received in this way, and the
evacuation of the camps by the soldiers, who had winter quarters here,
furnished still more.
Quite a large number of neat cottages have already been built. I
encouraged the people to build these small tenements on lots belonging
to the most decided rebels, hoping that, if not claimed by former
owners, these homesteads would be given to the occupants by
government. Thus Hampton is becoming quite a thriving, free
settlement, supported by fishing, oystering, huckstering, artisanship,
gardening, and farming. Colored people have settled on farms vacated
by owners, and will do well in keeping dairies, and cultivating the
land, and gathering its fruit, if not molested.
The old court-house walls, that survived the fire, have been inclosed
for a church and school house. The work was done by colored mechanics.
It seems fit that this place, where injustice has been sanctioned by
law, should be converted into a sanctuary of justice, righteousness,
and free education.
We consider that we are here trying the very highest experiment with
ex-slaves. They are here emphatically "turned loose," and are shifting
for themselves,--doing their own head-work and hand-work. It is not to
be expected that on the "sacred soil of Virginia" this experiment
should be carried out without encountering difficulties; but we feel
it to be a thing of blessed interest to follow as Providence leads,
and do the work of faith and love, leaving the result with him. There
is inspiration in the reflection that we are doing a representative
work, and whatever the issue, the work will not be burned up, nor the
workers permitted to suffer essential loss. We know that our labor is
not in vain in the Lord.
CHAPTER III.
Opening of Religious Services and Schools.--Mrs.
Peake a Teacher.--Singing in the Schools.--Christmas
Festival.
The religious and educational part of the mission has been one of
blessedness and promise. And in this, as in everything else, I have
aimed to teach self-development. In connection with the gathering of
the people in religious meetings, I proposed to commence Sabbath and
week-day schools, with such teachers as I had at hand. Meanwhile, some
of the children of the vicinity, getting perhaps some hint of my
intention, or prompted by an impulse from on high, called on Mrs.
Peake, and requested her to teach them, as she had taught the children
in Hampton.
It was with much gratification that I learned this request. I soon
found from observation, as well as information, that we had in her a
teacher of the choicest spirit, and of peculiar qualifications. She
was happy in having pupils as ready to learn as to request
instruction. Her school numbered at first only about half a dozen, but
in a few days she had between fifty and sixty. These scholars were
found to have generally very fair intellectual capabilities, and a few
evinced quite rare talents. Among these was her own little daughter,
five years old, named Hattie, but familiarly called by the pet name of
Daisy. She learned to read simple lessons fluently in a very short
time. Others also exhibited a precocity which from day to day rewarded
and stimulated the ardor of this devoted teacher.
Mrs. Peake was not satisfied with the ordinary routine of the week-day
school room, but felt that the teacher of a mission school should aim
to educate the children for eternity as well as for time. She found
great assistance in the primer, catechism, and other elementary
religious books, with which she had been furnished. She felt that the
teachings of the week-day school ought to be largely preparatory to
the rehearsals of the Sabbath school. What an impression for good
would be made upon the rising generation, were this course universally
pursued!
Mrs. Peake deeply realized that every undertaking, and especially that
of training the young, should be begun and continued with prayer. She
not only prayed with her pupils, but taught them to pray. Having a
rich store of scriptural knowledge, and feeling its worth, and the
importance of simplifying it to the young, in order to awaken their
interest, she bestowed special attention on catechetical instruction.
Not satisfied with having Scripture truths committed to memory, she
explained and inculcated them, with line upon line and precept upon
precept, drawn from her own knowledge and experience. I can not think
that this spiritual instruction interfered in the least with the
other, but rather was a handmaid to it, furnishing a pleasant as well
as profitable variety, awakening and developing heart and mind at
once.
Mrs. Peake also considered singing an important part of a right
education. Among the favorite hymns first learned and sung in her
school were, "I want to be an angel," "There is a happy land," "Around
the throne of God in heaven," "Here we meet to part again," "In heaven
we part no more," and others of kindred spirit, so familiar in the
Sabbath schools at the North. How ardent was her desire to win the
young intellect and affections for Jesus and heaven! With strict
appropriateness may we apply to her the poet's language,--
"And as a bird each fond endearment tries,
To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies,
She tried each art, reproved each dull delay,
Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way."
While Mrs. Peake attached prime importance to the training of the
rising generation, she felt that great improvement might be made among
the adults. This view inspired her action from the first in Hampton,
and with a blessed result, that is now apparent to all. She was
accordingly very ready to gratify the desire of a number of adults for
an evening school, notwithstanding her increasing infirmities. The
result is, that several, who scarcely knew the alphabet before, now
begin to read with considerable readiness.