Autobiography of Allen Jay...

Front matter

Autobiodraphy of

lien (Jay

COEXRIGHT DEPOSnV

Foreword

Having now entered my seventy-ninth year, and looking back, I am prepared to say, "The hand of my God has been good upon me." My friends and the Church have been pleased to call me to fill some active positions during the past fifty years in the Church of which I was born a member. Having seen many changes and having labored in various positions in the Church in connection with others who were trying to build up the Redeemer's kingdom in the earth, it has seemed to many of my friends that I ought to leave an account of the part I have taken in the work, of the changes that the Church has passed through during these years, and perhaps a little sketch of some of those whom I have met during this time. Therefore, with the hope that it may be of interest to some who are younger and desirous to do the Master's will, I have consented with much reluctance to undertake this service in my declining years. My greatest reason for hesitation is the fact that I have taken an active part in the work in which I have been engaged, and therefore I fear that the pronoun "I" may appear too prominent in what I may have to say. I hope to avoid that as much as possible and to be able in all I have to say to give the glory to my Heavenly Father, who called me from following the plow to enter His vineyard, and later, in a more public way, to build up His kingdom.

The matter in this volume has been written at odd moments, amid many other claims upon my time.

4 FOREWORD

The accoimt lays no claim to literary attainment and if there is any appearance of anything of that kind it is due to my faithful stenographer, Ruthanna Simms, who has done her part so well, and to the kind assistance of Professor Elbert Russell, both of whom have tried to eliminate the mistakes and put the narrative in proper shape for the publishers.

I wish to express my thanks to my dear uncle and avmt, Eli and Mahalah Jay, for their help in furnishing facts and correct dates, and to John and Charles Thomas, of Baltimore, Maryland, for their assistance in obtaining access to the records relating to the Baltimore Association work. In a special manner, also, I owe much to my dear friend Mary Mendenhall Hobbs, who has so greatly helped with her pen and with words of encouragement.

To all of these and to others who by letters and words of encouragement from this country and on the other side of the sea have aided me, my heart goes out in tender love. With this feeling to all and for the Church, I now commit my account to the reader, praying that God may bless it for good.

Allen Jay.

Contents

CHAPTER PAGE.

I. Ancestry and Family 1 1

II. Early Influences : School and Meeting 1 8

Chapter I ANCESTRY AND FAMILY

I was born near the southern line of Miami County, Ohio. My father, Isaac Jay (1811-1880), was bom at the same place, and my mother, Rhoda (Cooper) Jay (18 13-1894), was bom about seven miles farther south and six miles north of Dayton, Ohio. Their parents were pioneers in the settlement of the Miami Valley, in southwestern Ohio, in the opening years of the last century. My father was the son of Walter Denny Jay (1786-1865) and Mary (Macy) Jay (i 787-1868). My Grandfather Jay was bom in Newberry Coimty, South Carolina, the son of John Jay (i 752-1829) and Elizabeth (Pugh) Jay (175 5-182 1). Both of his parents were bom in Frederick Coimty, Virginia, from whence they emigrated to South Carolina about 1770 and were married at Bush River Meeting of Friends, Third month 4, 1773. They had eleven children, seven sons and four daughters, bom in South Carolina in the years 1773 to 1795. The family removed from South Carolina to Ohio in 1803, settling at first at Waynesville, Warren County, Ohio, and five years later in Miami County, Ohio. All their eleven children married and had families, and the average of the ages of nine of them, the dates of whose deaths are known, is over sixty years.

(IX)

My great-grandfather, John Jay, was the son of William and Mary (Vestal) Jay. Mary Vestal was the daughter of William and Elizabeth (Mercer) Vestal. The Vestal family were Friends at Newark Monthly Meeting, Pennsylvania, from whence, about 1730, they removed and settled in the new colony of Friends, formed about that time, near Winchester, Virginia. There William Jay and Mary Vestal were married, about 1743. They were parents of eight children, five sons and three daughters, bom in the years 1744 to 1765. Little is known of this William Jay and nothing with certainty of his ancestry. He was probably born in Maryland, and died in Virginia before the emigration of the family from Virginia to South Carolina, shortly before the Revolutionary War. The mother, Mary (Vestal) Jay, after living more than thirty years in South Carolina, came to Ohio in 1805, where she lived several years.

My great-grandmother, Elizabeth (Pugh) Jay, was the daughter of Thomas Pugh (born 1731) and Ann (Wright) Pugh (bom 1725), both natives of Pennsylvania. They went with their family from Hopewell Monthly Meeting, Virginia, to Bush River, South Carolina, in 1769, but returned to Virginia in 1777. Ann Pugh was an approved minister in the Society of Friends, and, after their return from South Carolina, she made two visits, with a certificate from Hopewell Monthly Meeting, to Friends in North and South Carolina, returning from the last visit in 1798. Her husband, Thomas Pugh, accompanied her on her first visit, in 1784. He was the son of Jesse and Alice (Malin) Pugh, both of whom were bom in Pennsylvania in 1711

ANCESTRY AND FAMILY 13

and removed to Frederick County, Virginia, about 1750. Jesse Pugh was the grandson of Ellis Pugh, who was born in Wales, 1656, and emigrated with his family to Pennsylvania in 1687, where he died in 1 7 18. Ellis Pugh was a minister in the Society of Friends, both in his native land and in Pennsylvania, preaching in the Welsh language.

My grandmother, Mary (Macy) Jay, was born in Guilford County, North Carolina. She was the daughter of Thomas Macy (1765-1833) and Anna (Sweet) Macy (i 768-1 840). They were both bom in Nantucket Island and taken to North Carolina in childhood, about 1 7 7 3 , by their parents. There they married at Deep River Meeting of Friends, in the early part of the year 1787, and in 1797 removed to East Tennessee. In 1807 they came to Miami Cotmty, Ohio. They had twelve children, ten of whom married and had good-sized families, the other two dying in childhood. The average of the ages of nine of these, the dates of whose deaths are known, is over seventy years.

Thomas Macy was the son of Paul Macy (1740- 1832) and Bethiah Macy (i 744-1810), both born in Nantucket, where they married in 1761, Bethiah dying in North Carolina and Paul in Miami County, Ohio. Both were of the fifth generation of the Macy family in America, Paul being the grandson of the second Thomas Macy (1687-1759), who was the grandson of Thomas Macy (i 608-1 682), the immigrant. Bethiah Macy was the granddaughter of the second John Macy (1675-1751), the grandson of Thomas Macy, the immigrant, who was bom in Wiltshire, England. The latter came to America some time between 1635 and 1640, and settled at

Salisbury, now Amesbury, Massachusetts, where he lived till 1659, when he settled in the Island of Nantucket, the first white family to locate there in the midst of 3,000 Indians. He left Amesbury to avoid the persecution that fell upon him because he had permitted William Robinson and Marmaduke Stevenson to lodge in his house. These dear Friends were arrested in Boston a few days later, tried and condemned and hung on what is now Boston Common, because of their faithfulness in preaching the Gospel.

I was bom the year before my great-great-grandfather, Paul Macy, died, and, according to my mother, had the honor of being held in his arms in my first year. It is now three hundred years since the birth of my distinguished ancestor, Thomas Macy, and the following four lives cover these three hundred years, with an overlapping of eighteen- years: Thomas Macy, 1608 to 1682 ; his grandson, John Macy, 1675 to 1751; great-great-grandfather, Paul Macy, 1740 to 1832, and myself, Allen Jay, 1831 to 1908.

My grandmother, Mary (Macy) Jay, embraces in her ancestral lines the most of the family names of the early settlers of Nantucket Island. Of these, the following ten may be given: Austin, Barnard, Bunker, Coffin, Coleman, Folger, Gardner, Macy, Starbuck and Worth, and by intermarriages she was related to almost all the other families foimd in Nantucket history.

My mother, Rhoda (Cooper) Jay, was the daughter of Isaac Cooper (1774-1825) and Elizabeth (Kennedy) Cooper (1782-1859). Isaac and Elizabeth (Kennedy) Cooper came to Ohio from Georgia,

ANCESTRY AND FAMILY 15

where they were probably married. The Cooper family came South from Pennsylvania, but when we do not know. The records of the South Carolina and Georgia Meetings of Friends show that several of the name of Cooper belonged to them at different times. Isaac Cooper was the son of Isaac and Prudence Cooper, and Elizabeth Kennedy was the daughter of John and Esther Kennedy.

I was the oldest of five children. My brother, Milton Jay, became a useful man, practiced medicine for forty years, was rather a noted surgeon, and at his death was the chief surgeon of the Rock Island Railroad system. He died three years ago in Chicago. Brother Walter Denny Jay grew up a usefiil, Christian man, a farmer, and died at Marion, Indiana, about thirty years ago. Brother Abijah died in Marion, Indiana, May 18, 1909. He was at one time County Commissioner of Grant County. For a number of years he was connected with the public school work and helped to secure the Marion Carnegie Library. Sister Mary Jay Baldwin, the youngest of the family, has been a minister in our Society for a number of years, and still lives at Marion, Indiana.

I feel that I owe much to my ancestors and to the Church which has done so much for me. My grandparents were persons of marked character, especially my Grandfather Jay. As an illustration of his character, I will give the following incidents: He settled on a farm in the woods of Miami County, Ohio. It was customary in that new country for the farmers to go into the green woods and kill the green timber by cutting a circle around a tree and then leaving it imtil it was dead. This was called

' ' deadening. ' ' During the winter season they would cut down these dead trees, cut them off or bum them off at a suitable length to roll into log heaps. Then, in the spring of the year, the neighbors would unite and go to one farmer's house, taking their oxen, log chains and axes, and spend one, two or three days, as the nimiber of acres might reqmre, in rolling and piling these logs into heaps to be burned. Then they would go to the next neighbor and spend the time in the same way. Sometimes the women would go, also, and have quiltings at the same time. One spring, when they had gone the rounds, they went to my grandfather's the last one, he being the yoimgest married person in the neighborhood. When they went to work they soon found out that grandfather had not provided the whiskey which was thought to be necessary in those days at bam raisings and log rollings. By night the murmuring had increased, so that his father told him it would be necessary for him to comply with the custom or the neighbors woiild not come back to help him finish. In the evening, when the time came to quit work, he got on top of a large stump, and, calling the men aroimd him, delivered the following speech :

*' Neighbors, I have helped you roll your logs all through the spring, and have not tasted your liquor, and now, if you cannot help roll my logs without liquor to drink, you can go home." There was no liquor brought, but the logs were all rolled. So far as I know, this was the first temperance speech ever made in that part of Ohio.

Soon after my marriage, my wife and I settled on a farm on the Wea Plains, near the High Gap, about

ANCESTRY AND FAMILY 17

eight miles southwest of Lafayette. There being a good orchard on the farm, I took a load of winter apples to the city to sell one day. When I stopped my wagon near a bank in the city, the president of the bank, who was called Judge Barbee, came out and looked at them. He asked me how many there were and the price. Being satisfied, he went in and got his hat, came out and got on the wagon and we drove to his house. We commenced measuring them out and his hired man carried them into the cellar. Pretty soon he asked me where the apples were raised and what my name was. When I told him, he looked at me and said: "Are you any relation to 'old Uncle Denny Jay,' of Miami County, Ohio?" When I told him that I was his eldest grandchild, he lay down the half-bushel and said, "We will not measure another apple. I will take your word as to the number of bushels." When I reminded him that a great many good grandfathers had dishonest grandsons, the reply was, " You cannot afford to lie if you are his grandson. I have done several thousand dollars' worth of business with your grandfather and we never had a scratch of a pen between us. I would trust his word for any sum." This reminds us of the saying of George Fox, "Then the lives of Friends began to preach. " It would be hard to compose a sentence more significant to a thinking Christian of to-day than this expression of George Fox. It reminds us of the saying, "Thy life speaks so loud I cannot hear thy words. "

Chapter II EARLY INFLUENCES: SCHOOL AND MEETING

Having given a rather full genealogy of my ancestors, especially on my grandfather and grandmother Jay's side, I now proceed to give some account of my life and work in connection with the Church in which I was born a member, and in which I have labored more or less for over fifty years.

The educational advantages that surrounded my early childhood were those common to the new country of that day. There were no public schools, but Friends very early had schools started under their control. Here again I was blessed in having a father who took more interest in education than many persons did. He himself, though not much of a scholar, was chosen to teach two or three terms in the log school-house in the neighborhood. It was built of logs on the plan of that day, with openings cut out on one side and paper pasted over them for window lights. Holes were bored in the logs and a broad board fastened on for a writing desk. When the time came for writing, we sat on a high bench with our faces to the wall so that the light from these primitive windows might fall upon our paper.

One incident in my early life showed my father's interest in the education of his children. I had just commenced going to school. When I awoke one morning my mother told me that I could not go to school that day, as it had been snowing during the night and I was too Httle to walk through the snow to the school-house and father could not spare the time to take me. I began to fret and cry, because I wanted to go. Father was busy out in the bam threshing wheat, in the way that many farmers did in those days. The wheat was laid down with the heads together in a circle around the barn floor, and then the horses were turned on to it and made to walk around while the farmer with his fork kept it stirred up until the wheat was all threshed out. While I was pleading with my mother to let me go, my father pulled the string, raised the door-latch and said, ** Where is Allen?" Mother replied, "He is here fussing because he cannot go to school." Father simply said, " It is time for him to go. Where is his dinner? " When mother handed it to him, he got down on the porch and told me to put my arms around his neck. He then put his hands behind him to hold me up, carried me half a mile to the school-house, set me down on the door step and said, "Be a good boy and wait until I come after thee to-night." Many times in life I have been thankful that I had a father who thought enough of his boy to stop his work and carry him to school on his back.

The same example of faithfulness in the attendance of meetings for worship and discipline, on the part of my parents, was a training that I appreciate. It has been a strength to me through life. Some of my earliest recollections are of being taken to meeting with the other children and made to sit quietly through the meetings, many of which were held in silence. Some of these meetings wherein there was not a word spoken are impressed upon my memory to this day. I can remember that while sitting in stillness I was often impressed with the desire to be a good boy. This stillness was sometimes broken by vocal prayer, during which the congregation rose, pulled off their hats and turned their backs to the one who was engaged in vocal prayer. We were also expected to bow our heads, and, when he was through, to sit down with as little noise as possible. I have wondered sometimes whether, if more of this reverence were manifested to-day in time of vocal prayer, we might not find it beneficial. When the minister rose to address the meeting, there was attention given to what he said that is lacking to-day in many places when the sermon is preached. While there was not so much doctrine preached, the message was directed to the hearts of the hearers and they were impressed with the fact that we were called to live pure and honest lives, and, above all, that God sees us at all times. While much of this ministry was directed to the observance of outward things, yet we were forcibly reminded that God expected us to obey the teaching of His Spirit and to live honest and upright lives. Let us not speak lightly of the ministry of our forefathers. Some of us, as we look back to the lives of those who were brought up under their ministry, are ready to believe that they were God-fearing men and women. They were the salt of the commimity where they lived and leaders for good among their fellow-men. Their word was as good as a bond.

When I was about ten years old my parents moved from Mill Creek Meeting, where I was bom, to Randolph Meeting, located some six miles north of Da3rton, Ohio, and settled in the old home where my mother was brought up and lived until she was married. Here the course of my life continued to flow on in the channels common to a farmer's boy in that day. My father was a hard-working man. We children were taught to labor and do all kinds of work incident to a farmer's life. My mother was in poor health and it fell to my lot as the oldest child to assist in the washing each week. It was an imwritten law that this had to be done on Second-day morning. For some two or three years I did the most of it myself, putting the clothes through the washing, and boiling, bluing, starching and hanging them out without any assistance, but I cannot say that I ever enjoyed it, although it was the understanding that when it was done I was to have the remainder of the day to fish, hunt, go swimming, or do whatever I desired. Life went on in this way, divided between working on the farm in the summer and going to school in the winter. Our schoolhouse was near the meeting-house. When the meeting hour came on Fifth-day, we all went in a body to the meeting. Here, again, I believe our fathers were right in mingling religion with education, or, in other words, in educating the heart along with the intellect. Sometimes, after there had been a long silence, some one would rise and speak so long that we were made to fear that the time for our games of base, town-ball, or bull-pen would be cut short. It was a practical lesson in patience. Perhaps we did not always let it do its perfect work. Be that as it may, years afterwards, in another State, when my father sent me away from home to attend an academy, where there was a

Friends Meeting about three-quarters of a mile from the school-house, I had so fixed in my mind the importance of going to meeting in the middle of the week that when the hour came for the Fourth-day meeting, I arranged with the principal that I might rise from my seat and go out and attend the meeting. It made me appear a little like a speckled bird among my schoolmates, yet in walking through the woods, going and coming, the sense of doing right was often a comfort. Years afterwards, one of that ntmiber who had grown to be a man said that my example in this had first led him to consider the subject of religion.

Conversion ♦

About the thirteenth year of my age there occurred a scene in my life which stands out more vividly than any other in the history of my attendance on West Branch Quarterly Meeting, the quarter to which we belonged. It was during the consideration of the "State of Society," as it was called, when they read the "Queries and Answers," and the condition of the Church was brought in review before the meeting. A Friend arose with a concern on his mind for some one who was present. With his face turned towards the far corner of the house, where I sat among the young people, he entreated that we should yield our hearts to the tender visitation of God's love. He went on with his loving message, pointing us to the Spirit of God that would lead us in the way of truth and righteousness. The messenger has long since passed away, but his message is not forgotten. The meeting closed and I rode home on horseback in company with other young people, but did not enjoy the laughing and foolishness of the crowd. After supper I went out into the orchard and sat down to pray. I wanted to kneel down and offer prayer, but my training was such that I felt that none but those called to public prayer should kneel down. After sitting in silence a while, I rose to go to the house, but the burden was so great that I returned and ventured to kneel, thereby hoping to find peace. Now I was impressed that I should open my mouth and speak out the burden of my soul. But here again my education was such that I was afraid to speak words unless called to public ministry.

We had been told we could pray as well by thinking as by speaking. I rose and started to the house again. The burden was so great that I went back and fell on my knees and broke out in vocal expression, confessing my sins and asking God to forgive. Joy came to my soul. Sweet peace filled my heart. After waiting a while to wipe away the tears of joy, I went into the house, trying to hide my feelings. But a mother's loving heart and watchfiil eye perceived that something had come over her boy. When the time came to go to bed, she put her hand on my shoulder and simply remarked that we had had a good meeting that day and she hoped I would rest well. Dear mother wanted to say more, but her training, like that of most Friends of that time, was to repress all religious conversation. I have often wondered what would have been the result had she taken me to her embrace and told me what the change was — that I had been converted and that God had heard my petition. I doubt not she prayed for me, and if she had spoken to me it might have saved me days of darkness and doubt in coming years. In reviewing this blessed experience I am often impressed with the fact of how Httle theology there was mixed with the preaching of those dear Friends compared with the hair-splitting doctrines and controversies we hear in some places in our Church to-day. But after threescore and ten years, having seen the results of the ministry of that day, which directed our thoughts to the Spirit of God and urged us to listen to His voice as He called us to follow Him, and comparing it with the dogmatic and superficial teaching of some of the present day, who point us to their own experience in spiritual things, I am ready to say that our fathers' ministry produced men and women of ability and Christian character which I sometimes fear are not produced by the methods of the modem revivalist. They were men and women who were the salt of the earth, who walked the earth in the fear of the Lord and kept themselves unspotted from the world.

Family Worship

Soon after these occurrences, another took place which strengthened my religious life. My father had a hard spell of sickness which lasted several weeks. I heard the doctor say to my mother one evening when leaving, " I fear yoiu" husband will not get well." When I stood by the bed that night, before retiring, father said to me, "Be a good boy and help mother all thee can." It was not customary in those days, in that community, even among Christians, to have family worship. However, I heard my father say to mother, " If I get well, we will have religious services in the house." Two or three weeks later, one night, mother brought a rocking-chair, placed a bed-quilt over it, and pillows upon it, and then, going to the bed, helped my father out and led him to the chair. She brought the Bible, and while we children sat around father read a few verses from it. Then he asked mother to help him down on his knees. She knelt by his side and held him while he offered vocal prayer. I have seen many beautiful paintings that have cost large sums of money, but no pictiure is more vivid and beautiful in my memory than that of mother holding father while he prayed. I do not remember much of that prayer, but the words, " God bless Allen and make him a good boy, " have followed me over land and sea. I pity the child who has never heard his father pray.

I would not convey the idea that because the Friends of that day did not read the Bible in family worship, that they never read the Bible. Many of them read it much. Many of us can call to mind how grandfather and grandmother read the Bible, with a solemn tone, similar to that in which many of the ministers of that day delivered their messages, and their old Bibles lying upon the shelf to-day are well worn with much use.

It may appear strange that my father was often found fault with for introducing family worship into our house. Some Friends were uneasy, fearing it might result in reading the Bible formally and having formal worship. One dear Friend, whose name I will not mention, traveling on a religious visit, stopped with us over night. When father brought out the Bible and remarked that it was our custom to read before going to bed, he made the remark, "I suppose it will not hurt me to sit and listen to it." The next day, at quarterly meeting, he preached, but it did me no good. I did not want to hear him, for I knew what it had cost my father to introduce this practice in his family.

Visiting Friends

The hospitality of Friends in those days was something to look back to with pleasure. Our home was on the direct line between Miami and West Branch Quarterly Meetings. We always expected a nimiber of Friends the night before quarterly meeting from Center and Miami, as well as Friends traveling in the ministry. Among these I recall the names of Thomas Evans, Joseph Doan, Asher Brown, Samuel Steddom, Abram Taylor, Joseph Taylor (who afterwards founded Bryn Mawr College) and many others. Very often with these would be a company of Friends from other yearly meetings, such as Joseph D. Hoag, John and Elizabeth Meader and Benjamin Seebohn. These were days that we looked forward to with interest. Everywhere was activity, in the house and outside, getting ready to welcome the company. It was a feature in my home life that had much to do with shaping it for the Church. I have known as many as thirty visitors to stay all night at my father's. We boys learned to sleep on the floor, giving up our beds to others. The young people among the visitors shared the floor with us. After supper I enjoyed sitting in the corner and listening to the conversation about the Church and its work, interspersed with anecdotes about noted Friends, especially about the ministers and their work and travels.