While my father was away my half-sister was married to James Joseph Collins. He was a fancy gardener. They went to live in a cottage at a country seat at a place called Killgreen. The family were wealthy people, and he was the gardener. He cultivated flowers and ornamental shrubbery, etc. They had a girl baby who died when a few months old. Two or three years later Mr. Collins died—a separation which reminds us that everything in this life is fleeting and of short duration. We know not what a day may bring forth. Phillis, of course, came back home, and in a few months a little boy came. They named him James J., after his father.
We called him Jimmy. In a very short time after that my father came home. He had been gone five years. He sent no notice of his coming, but took us by surprise. It was early in the fall. We were very glad to see him. I shall never forget the day of his coming. It was early in the evening when he landed in the City of London. He came to Henley by way of the stage coach, as there were no railroads in that early day. Aunt Ann Halliway lived near the hotel where the stage stopped, so he went to her house first. My Uncle John came in haste for me. I was not at home just then, having gone to spend the night with a friend near by. Here he found me, and when I came to the door, he said: “Ellen, I want you to come with me, there is some one at my house that you will like to see.” I had not the least idea who it could be, but went with him, and when I entered the room I recognized my father at once. Of course I was delighted to see him, but I saw that he was somewhat disappointed in me. I was a little girl when he left, now I had grown tall, and was changed into almost a young lady. He kissed me over and over, and then would stand me off and look at me, and say: “O, you do not look like the little girl I left; you have grown so much.” Then he and my uncle started off to see mother, uncle going on before a little to break the news to her, so as not to excite her too suddenly. The next day we all went to see his dear old mother. I did not see the meeting with her, as I had some errands to do; but she had one of her sick spells and kept her bed for some time. She was an invalid much of the time, but O, what a Christian she was. She loved her Savior, and he seemed to be with her always, and as I would be in and out to see her, I found her much of the time with her hands clasped in prayer.
Father brought with him from America it nice dog which he gave to me. Everybody seemed interested in him because he was an American dog, although he did not look different from our dogs. He also brought some ears of corn, both yellow and red, which were a very great curiosity to everyone, as they had never seen anything like it.
The fall and winter after father came home passed very pleasantly. The evenings were spent listening to the stories he would tell about the wonderful country from which he had just come. I went to school every day. My teacher then was a Mrs. Arnold. Her husband was a baker, and he kept a confectionery shop. They were lovely people. Her school was composed of young girls, all of whom were in their teens. The school was in her own house and adjoined the bakery. I can never forget what a kind lady-like woman Mrs. Arnold was, and how good she was to us all.
My father told us how much he would love to go back to America, if we could make up our minds to leave our native land and go back with him. He said he had made up his mind not to spend his days in a town, but he must and would be a farmer, and if we remained in England he would sell our town property and buy a farm. He had told us so many nice things about the people and the country that my mother consented to go, and I was delighted with the idea of anything new, and could scarcely wait for the time to start. Father made arrangements to set sail the 24th day of March. A ship called the Mediator was to sail from London on that day. Very little is thought of making a trip like this at the present time; but the prospective journey and the preparation for it was a wonderful affair to all our friends as well as to ourselves. We bought and made up plenty of new clothing of all kinds that we thought we would possibly need, and mother exposed me to every contagious disease that children were liable to have—even the smallpox, but I stood proof against every thing. However, she thought it would never do to take me to that strange country without my having had the smallpox, as she supposed there could be no doctors there like we had in England. As the disease was going around amongst the children in the neighborhood, she sent me to visit those who had it, and I was with them in all stages of it, but it had no effect on me. The doctor said my blood was so pure, and my system in such a good healthy condition I would not take it; so one day I went to see a family where there were two good healthy boys who had the smallpox. I took a darning needle and scratched two places on my arm until they bled, then I lifted one of the scabs on the boy’s arm and took the matter and put in on my arm. It took splendidly, just the two places and no more. I supposed I should be all marked up with it, but not a mark appeared. Two weeks before time to sail we bade adieu to all our friends and relatives in Henley, and I went to school to say good-bye to all my school friends and to my governess. That was the hardest of all. I started around the room kissing each one, and at the same time receiving a little present as a token of love, but when I was about half way around I broke down and cried, then they gathered around me and the presents were laid in my lap, and the governess and all of us wept together. I arose and left the room and ran out into the hall and up on the stairs and sat there alone and cried a long time. They all thought I had gone, but I crept softly down and went to bid Mr. Arnold good-bye. He held on to my hand and kissed me and cried like a child.
I was glad when this part was over, for it was very hard for me. I did not know until that day how much my school friends loved me nor how much I loved them, or how dear my teacher and her husband were to me.
I remember the last Sabbath we attended the services at the chapel where my mother had her membership so many years. The pastor, Rev. James Rowland, had special services, and preached a farewell sermon for us. He took for his text Numbers, 6th Chap.: 24th, 25th and 26th verses. It was my last day at Sabbeth school, and was a sad day to all of us.
Then there was my dear old grandmother. O, it was too sad to think about! We knew we should never see her again on earth, but I often think how delightful it will be when we all get to heaven, to meet all those dear ones after so many years of separation.
Shall we know each other there? Yes, we surely will and “never say good-bye in heaven.” As I said of grandmother before, she was an invalid, and the trial of giving us all up was too great for her. I shall never forget her last words to me, how she urged me to be a good girl, saying, “Now Ellen, remember every year you live you are growing either better or worse. At the end of every year you are nearer heaven, or you are nearer the bad place. Do not forget that.” I never have and I never can forget it, and my good old grandmother’s good counsel and the unfeigned faith of my dear mother and grandmother have had a very great influence over my life. The religious training and the prayers of my mother, together with the help of the dear old Methodist Church, and the grace of God, have made me what I am. Thanks be to my Heavenly Father for what he has done for me.
But I must go back to my story. We then took the last look at the pretty little town of Henley and of the River Thames, at the side of which I had walked and played so many times, watching the white swans swimming on it and calling to them in my childish play to show their black legs, which they were sure to do. But I looked at it all for, the last time, and then we all got into the stage coach and started for London. When we were about half way we left the stage and took the railroad from there to London. The cars had begun running only a short time before. The car we rode in was open, something like our summer street cars, only there were two seats facing each other, with 1 little gate at the end, so that we could close the gate and all be shut in. When we arrived in London we went to Auntie Baker’s, my mother’s sister, and remained there two weeks. We had a lovely time seeing the many wonderful things and visiting the places of interest, Of course we could only see a very little compared to what could be seen in that great city. Some of the places that I remember are the British Museum, Westminster Abbey, the Queen’s Palace, Hyde Park, and London Bridge. Sometimes we rode in an omnibus and sometimes we walked. We had some cousins living in Riding House Lane. Their names were Reding. They were coach builders.
They had a large shop and made stage coaches. They had sons and daughters, one girl about my own age. Her name was George Anna Reding. She took me around in their buggy some days, and we had a nice time together. I remember one day we went walking, and I said I wanted to ride in an omnibus, as I thought we could get over the ground faster; so my father called the driver to stop, and he put me in telling the man to let me out at a certain place. He then told me to stay right there until they came along. Of course I was there quite awhile before they were, and the people were walking along the street as if they were in a desperate hurry to get somewhere, and would forfeit their lives if not there at a certain time. They all pushed past me and I felt in the way and could not get any place where I could feel safe. As I looked about I saw a woman standing by a stall selling candy, nuts and fruit; so I walked up to her place and thought I would stand there until I saw my folks coming, but in one minute she said: “Do yon want to buy anything?” I said, “No.” “Well,” she said, “then what are you standing here for? If you don’t want anything, go on about your business.” I moved away, but did not know where to. How I wished I had stayed with the rest, but I never tried that again in London.
My Auntie Baker lived alone, and after we had been with her a few days she began to think she would like to go with us to America, so she sold out her little shop and made preparations for the journey. The day before we were to sail was my sixteenth birthday, March 23rd, so my cousin and I spent most of the day riding about the city and seeing all we could in the short time we had. The next day we left the house and went to the hotel for dinner, after which we went down to the docks and went on board the ship Mediator 2. I remember how we all stood on deck and looked to see our friends who stood watching and waving until we could see them no longer. It is sixty years ago: nearly all have gone to the Spirit Land. I am the only one left of our family who sailed from London on that eventful day. I was very sea-sick for two days, then I got over it and was not at all sick the rest of the way; but my father, mother, and all of the rest were sick all the way over. We had a very pleasant voyage. There were no very hard storms. As it was a sailing vessel and did not go by steam, we sometimes went forward at the rate of ten knots an hour, and perhaps the next day the wind would be contrary, and we would go back as fast as we had gone forward the day before. O, how I did enjoy that voyage! I could go on deck and walk as straight as I could on land when the ship was rocking as if it would turn upside down. I never fell down but once, and that was when the ship was rolling so terribly, and the waves came over and made the deck so wet and slippery that I slipped and fell; and I thought I should never get on my feet again. The sailors all laughed at me—it was such fun for them—and I laughed too, and finally managed to get on my feet. There were many days when no one could go on deck except myself; they were all too sick. However, at last we landed in New York, having had a swift voyage—only four weeks and two days on the sea. I shall never forget the day we reached the harbor. We did not dare to land until the doctor came and examined all the passengers to see that no disease should be carried to land. When all the passengers were called on deck there was a boy about my age whom I did not know, and he was told to stand by me. We two were fat and fair, with rosiest cheeks—the picture of health, and the captain had us stand out in front of everybody, and he seemed so proud of us, as everyone else was thin and pale from seasickness. After the medical examination was over we were allowed to go ashore, and went directly to a hotel where we had some dinner. I remember how hard it was to walk straight on the streets, and how strange it seemed to sit down at a table that stood still. That night we took a steamer and sailed across Lake Erie to Buffalo, and then went on a canal boat to Cleveland, where we remained for nearly two weeks, as there was a break in the canal which let the water all out so the boat could not go; so we slept on the boat and went where we pleased in the day time. At last we started on our journey and came to Dresden, Ohio. There we went to a boarding-house and remained for a time, while my father came on to Newark to see the country and look for a farm. He found one of one hundred acres which he bought. This was at Bowling Green, five miles east of Newark. He paid thirteen hundred dollars in gold for it. He then bought the man’s horses, cows, and all of his stock, some chickens and some household goods also. Father went back to Dresden, and we all got on a boat and came to Bowling Green. Father went to the man and told him we had come, and he came with the wagon and loaded on our goods and took them to the house, and we an walked up the lane. It was only a short distance. The people remained in the house until we were there. They prepared us some dinner, and then left and we began to keep house in America.
Ellen S. O’Bannon 