A memorial to Eldress Anna White and Elder Daniel Offord

Front matter

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A MEMORIAL

TO

II

THE fifth child and youngest daughter of Robert land Hannah White was Anna, born January 21st, 183 1. Their residence, a pretty, white cottage, stood in a large green field at the corner of Orange and Willow streets, Brooklyn. Anna nearly lost ihier birthright at the very beginning of her career, her father first discovering faint signs of life in the discarded infant and coming to her rescue. A feeble, wailing creature, she made more trouble than all the other children. Her mother took her to the seashore in New Jersey, where she made acquaintance with old Ocean and, in the arms of the big man who had her in charge, would laugh and crow with delight as the friendly waves dashed over her. The Atlantic became her nurse, entered into her very being and saved the little one for a long and active life. When Anna was two years old, Robert White retired from business and purchased a farm on the New Jersey coast.

In the country home at Shrewsbury, Anna and her brother John, four years younger, spent a happy childhood. John, a handsome, lovable lad, was quite unlike his strong-willed, restless sister, but the two children were devoted to each other. A frequent playmate was Eric Parmley; another, a spruce little chap, was cousin Dick, son of Richard Mansfield White. Better known as Richard Grant White, cousin Dick was often at the New Jersey farm. A donkey, Jack, neighbor Eric's pony, dogs, cats, calves, chickens, figure in the sports of this period, but Ocean was the great playfellow. Whenever a party of guests visited the beach, intent on bathing, they were astonished to see the two children, who loved to dart ahead, already bobbing up and down, far out in the surf. They attended school some distance from home, boarding through the week with a Quaker family where they received motherly care. "Every Friday night, Father

Eldress Anna White.

would come for us and Mother would liave an extra good supper, generally of chicken, for us hungry children." No animals were killed on the farm, creatures destined for food being carried away. One day, walking with her mother in the city, Anna saw a wagonload of young calves and began an inquiry as to their destination. Informed that they were to be converted into veal, a favorite viand, her grief was extreme and she expressed a determination, to which she adhered, never toi taste veal again.

In the home was a dear old grandmother, Elizabeth Gibbs. It was a great delight to the mischievous children to get grandma to spell her name, — "E-l-i-izzard-a-b-e-t-h." Many happy hours were spent by her side and, at any childish mishap, "Now, child, what did thee do that for?" was her first query. In the Shaker home, when Anna White was approaching the years of this aged grandmother, if some impulsive spirit had fallen into difficulty, bow often would she say, with a twinkle in the keen, blue eyes, "Now, child, what did thee do that for?"

The oldest living son, for the first child, Abel, had died in infancy, was Robert Cornell, commonly called by his middle name. Eight years her senior, generous and sympathetic, Brother Cornell was Anna's protector and, like her, was devoted to their mother. Born during their parents' temporary residence in Birmingham, England, he came midway between two sisters. An ideal elder sister to the group of high-spirited, affectionate children, Phebe was a second mother to Anna, helping the little girl over many a hard place. Rachel, good, sensible and kind, was very fond of her little sister, who warmly returned her affection. A frequent member of the family was Aunt Sarah, Robert's only sister, a sweet and noble woman, gratefully remembered.

As with most children, in homes where the Bible is revered and loved, underneath fun and frolic rose the tide of religious thought and feeling. Trained to obey

Inspiration From Lucrbtu Matt. § their parents, it is easy for children to obey God Loving the law of kindness and self-sacrifice, manifested through the life of God-fearing parents, it is natural to recognize the love of the All Father. The blessing at table, the hour of family worship, were remembered with gratitude. The White Children attended Quaker meeting, sitting through the long, quiet service with what patience they might. The restless Anna was often comforted by the broad lap of her mother, which soothed her to slumber when the tired head grew too heavy. But very early, Anna took an active interest in proceedings, not always of the silent order. Lucretia Mott was sometimes present and, if moved to speak, the child listened fascinated. One First Day, Anna heard Lucretia Mott abruptly silenced by the guardians of Quaker orthodoxy. On the way home, she asked, — "Mother, why did they stop Lucretia Mott from speaking?" "Well, child, what she said was not in accordance with the ideas of the leaders in meeting."

"But why, Mother, I love to hear her the best of all?" "Well, child, thee will understand when thee is older."

It is doubtful if Anna White ever understood why a woman should be silenced in meeting, or why any honest truth-seeker should be forbidden to utter the thought that is in him. How much that scene may have influenced the after-life of the little girl cannot be known, but she ever had a deep reverence for Lucretia Mott and an enthusiasm for freedom of thought and speech.

A Methodist society worshipped in a small, plain 8 meeting-house near by, and Sabbath evenings, Anna and John were fond of attending Methodist prayer meetings. The Millerite excitement of the early 4o's ran high at Shrewsbury, many of the neighbors abandoning their property, that they might be prepared to meet their Lord. Robert White, in his calm, benevolent fashion, quietly bought up or gathered in cattle, horses and other movable effects of these excited people, and, when the fateful night

6 Eldbess Anna White.

had passed and the bewildered religionists returned to their dismantled homes, to resume their wonted occupations, their Quaker neighbor was at hand, restoring without charge animals and implements they had thrown away. In after years, Anna often related the story of that) night. She had listened to the arguments and exhortations of devoted Millerites in Methodist meetings, had heard the calm, sensible views of her Quaker parents and friends, but a child's superstitious fear was intensified by a deep, black cloud which overspread the heavens,-— a portent full of dread. Her father was away, she sat with her mother on the veranda. i{ 0 Mother, does thee think the Millerites may be right, after all, and the end of the world is coming ?"

"Nay, child," replied her mother, "it is only a thunderstorm. The end of the world is not at hand, thee need not fear." The tempest that followed was always referred to as the worst she ever experienced.

Among the neighbors was a Baker family, distantly related. In 1844, Phebe White married George C. Baker, and three years later Rachel married the brother, Joseph. while the same day, Cornell was married to their sister, Hannah D. Baker. From the marriage of Phebe came one of the strongest ties that bound Anna to her home. A little girl, named Hanna, was added to the circle, whom Anna loved and petted with adoring devotion.

A great trial of her girlhood was that she never had a new dress. Quaker thrift and the excellent materials of the time produced gowns of such quality that, when Phebe and Rachel were through with them, enough always remained to make a pretty frock for their little sister. One day in her sixteenth year, her mother said, "Anna, if thee will help me take care of the hens and chickens this summer, I will give thee half the profits and thee can have a new dress." Anna took hold of the poultry business and early and late looked after her big family of chickens with such faithful care that the biddies

Off to Boarding-School.

were unusually prosperous, and, in good time, she had the pleasure of buying a handsome silk dress, a piece of which is still cherished in her Shaker home.

The district school had done its best for the White children and Anna was sent with Rachel to a Friends Boarding School at Poughkeepsie, known! as the Mansion Square Seminary and presided over by Mr. William Gibbons. It was her first separation from home. A deathly homesickness took possession of her, she could not study, she could not eat nor sleep. All attempts at diversion^ reasoning or sympathy failed. Rachel was at her wits' end, the child was crying herself sick. At last, she wrote home and Robert started for Poughkeepsie and appeared at Mansion Square. Summoned to meet her father, Anna felt sure of his sympathy and expected to be restored to her lost home. But, nay! "Daughter Anna" was treated to a course of paternal logic, was assured that she was expected to appreciate the advantages offered her and improve her opportunity for education to the best of her ability. The crying stopped and the homesick child became the eager student, her quick, inquiring mind awakening to the delights of study. (Natural science, grammar, literature and history were her delight. Her textbook in astronomy, a thin volume with steel engravings, published in Boston in 1838, is a commentary on her neat and careful habits. Devoid of stain oir wrinkle, covered with brown cambric carefully stitched on, it bears the inscription, "Anna White, 1846." In after-life, she loved to talk of this science and its wonderful revealings, — eager to learn of each new discovery, each wider outlook.

From school routine, custom set her free much earlier than would happen to-day. At an age when the modern girl is entering upon her preparation for college or university, Anna returned to her home in New York City and, in accordance with Quaker custom, was given her choice of a trade. A highly respectable employment for women was tailoring, and in her eighteenth year, under

Eldses* Awhta Wstte.

the guidance of a skilled tailoress, Anna learned that trade. She enjoyed many social advantages. Their home was frequented by thinkers and philanthropists, its doors open to preachers and elders of the Quaker faith. Her quick sympathies were enlisted in relief of the distress found in the city and she was trained in systematic benevolence by her mother, the almoner appointed by the Quaker society to distribute relief to the poor of the church. Not only were the suffering of her own faith cared for by the benevolent Quakeress, but many abodes of poverty were relieved from her own stores. Anna accompanied her mother on these errands of mercy and thus became familiar with the sadder side of city lif*.

Ill

SHAKERJSM early became a factor in the family life. After the break in the Quaker church in 1827, Robert, a Hicksite Quaker, followed his natural bent toward independent thinking. Among the people with whom he dealt in his business of hardware merchant, he met certain grave, serious men, wearing a distinctive dress and noted for their honesty. Robert and Hannah often visited the Shakers, attracted by their neatness, simplicity and integrity. When Anna was six months old, her parents stopped at Hancock, on their way by carriage to Quaker Quarterly Meeting at Hudson, New York. An aged Shakeress, known as Mother Lucy Miller, coming into the room, took the baby in her arms, exclaiming in a prophetic manner, "This child is an Israelite indeed !"

Robert became interested in the Shaker faith, whose peculiar tenets, expounded by clear-thinking leaders, apt*altd to him as sensible spiritual interpretations of rsrt*

Robert White a Context.

lation. Finding therein the logical sequence to the Quaker faith accepted in earlier manhood, he became a Shaker, uniting with the society at Hancock, Massachusetts, and adopting the celibate life, the foundation stone of Shakerism. To Hannah White, this action of her husband was the subversion of every principle of right, — the betrayal of religious faith. While she honored his intellectual ability and trusted his integrity and purity of purpose, she felt that he had been misled and deceived. In accordance with Shaker usage, when his wife could not follow him, Robert did not separate from her further than to adhere to the essential principles of his faith. Hannah was, henceforth, his sister in Christ. This relation was almost as abhorrent to her as if he had divorced her altogether. The grief and opposition aroused was not allowed to cause an open rupture. Robert went to his Shaker home, often visited by Hannah or the children, then, returning, would spend an equal time with his family. He could not countenance marriage and the children were married away from home, while restraint in expressions of natural affection showed the effects of Sftiaker discipline.

He was generous with his Shaker relations, and, while careful to obey every requirement of the communistic home, added many a touch of comfort to its appointments and enlargement to its industrial outlook. He imported the locust, valuable for posts and timber, planting groves and lining highways with this beautiful tree. He did much to aid in publishing and distributing Shaker literature. At one time, he brought to Hancock three little girls whom he knew, orphan children, who, growing up in the faith, became heads of the three families, beloved and honored by all who know them,

Anna and John often visited at Hancock, playing in the old barns and sunny fields as happily as on their New Jersey farm. Anna gathered to the kind Shaker sisters, learned to love their sweet songs and to enjoy io Eldress Anna White.

the spiritual meetings, whose zeal and devotion awakened to new life her religious feelings. ReminiscenceiS of aged Believers were listened to and, little by little, in the heart of the Quaker girl, arose a love for the Shaker sisterhood, a thoughtful weighing of two religious systems, hardly to be looked for in so young a girl, save by those who, underneath the winsomeness of Anna White, could read her capacity for self-denial and devotion to truth.

As Anna neared her eighteenth birthday, Robert realized that the opposition among his older children had begun to affect Anna's feelings. He addressed to her, in a long and touching letter, a statement of his faith, his generous plans of provision for his family and his desire that she might impartially observe the workings of his faith in the home of his adoption, opening his father's heart in a way that could but appeal to her sense of justice and strong filial affection. Its pages are too sacred for publication, but it contains these words, the key to a very marked characteristic of Anna White's after-life: "I covet for thee, my daughter, a glorious freedom from the shackles of other people's opinions, an independence of all save the approbation of thy own conscience; breaking the bands of pride and prejudice and acting as if responsible to thy Maker, conscious of His presence/'

As opposition grew to actual persecution, Anna's deep, soulful eyes became wells of sympathy and determination in which Robert White read the truth that his youngest daughter alone of all his family stood with him. As her leaning toward her father's faith became known, every effort was exerted to win her back. Her great love for her mother, for Phebe and Rachel, for Cornell and John, for the little Hanna, now a sweet, precocious child of four years, were as so many bands of steel binding the affectionate girl to her home. A bachelor uncle on the mother's side, possessed of large wealth, had already

Anna Comes to Lebanon.

ii designated his favorite niece as his intended heir. Now, he proposed, if she would give up her Shaker schemes, to settle a large sum upon her at once, making her independent, the whole property to become hers upon his death. This offer, in her young enthusiasm, she cast beneath her feet.

The sterner side of Anna White's nature, hitherto unknown even to herself, her persistent obedience to conscience, the old Puritan and Quaker in her, enabled Iher to stand firm, to resist the entreaty, over-ride the opposition and govern her own deep feeling. Visits already paid to Hancock and New Lebanon were followed by another in her nineteenth year, when her father took her to four societies, that she might judge for herself. In 1848 and 1849, the battle seems to have raged within and without Anna's soul, growing more intense as the crisis drew near, when her decision should forever seal her destiny.

In the summer of 1849, Anna came to Mount Lebanon as a guest in the North Family, where Robert was a member. To the older sisters, she gathered at once in trustful simplicity, and to a young sister, about her own age, the gentle, affectionate Eliza Rayson, she became warmly attached. A large family, by the name of Greaves, had just come, seven brothers and one little sister, delicate and sweet, the idol of them all. Upon Anna White's arrival, Ann Maria Greaves was sent to entertain the visitor. The Elder Sister, coming to look after her charges, inquired what they had been talking about. To her amusement, they frankly avowed that they had been discussing the fashions in their respective homes. She afterward told them that, because of their honesty, she felt sure she could make Shakers of them both. The friendship thus begun lasted for sixty- two years, unbroken by separation or misunderstanding; the "twin sisters," as they called themselves, devoted to each other, until that December morning, when Anna, on a bridge of early sun-

Eldress Anna White.

beams, slipped away to the other country. This summer of 1849, the solemnity of the step before them did not weigh too heavily on their spirits for them to enjoy the mirth that filled their girl natures and innocent hearts. The beautiful mountain home and the attractive scenes occupied many hours, the three friends often forgetting the dignity of their years to romp together as if children still. Before this visit ended, Anna's choice was made. Her decision is thus expressed in a letter to her father.

"New Lebanon, 8 mo. 19th, 1849.

"To My Kind and Affectionate Father:

"According to thy desire I will now endeavor as far as my pen is able to give thee an accurate account of my feelings during the few days past in which my soul has been bowed down even to the very dust and 'my spirits dipped as in the waters of affliction. I can now feel that thy prayers on my behalf have not been put up for naught, but that they have been answered, and in the sincerity of my heart I can say that I thank my God for giving me such a wise and good parent, who will lend a helping hand and encourage me to press forward towards the mark of my high calling, so that I may live day by day as I would wish to die, and the time has now come for me to renounce the world, to give up all the enjoyments that are in it and live a holy and pure life acceptable to God and to His holy Angels. And O, how fervently have I prayed to Him to give me power to overcome all evil propensities, so that I might devote all my might and strength in serving Him, now while young in life, for I feel as though this was the most acceptable time of offering, and by forsaking the world, what troubles, what afflictions shall I escape!

"And He has at last condescended to hearken to my supplications, and by asking of Him counsel and advice to point out and show me which was the right way where-

Taught In a Dream.

in I should walk, He has granted my request in the similitude of a dream. It was this day week between the hours of one and two o'clock in the morning, I was aroused from a sound sleep (by a rumbling sound, as of distant thunder, the earth seemed to shake and tremble at its approach, all had fled terrified and horror-stricken at the awful appearance. It threatened to sweep all before it, yet still I stood alone and unprotected, trembling, yet dared not stir : but not long did this last, it gradually died away, and in the distance could be heard singing such as never was heard by mortal ear. O how sweet, how melodious it was, as though the whole company of angels had mingled together in one united band and were offering up their sweetest songs in praise and thanksgiving to their holy patron! How inviting was the song, and they appeared to be beckoning for me to come and join with them. Still all was invisible, save a light that broke forth instantaneously as the singing ceased. It was not the dazzling brightness of the sun, but a soft and gentle light diffusing itself around and afootit the place Where I was, and seemed to encircle me on every side. Words cannot express the happy feeling that I experienced ; when I awoke, a deep peace settled on my mind and things wore a cheerful aspect, nothing dark and gloomy was left, all had fled, leaving me in peace and quietness. I distinctly saw the way which had been so clearly manifested unto me to be opened, and I am determined to walk in it, and nothing can hinder or turn me aside. The world is a blank to me, I can leave all without a regret I can never return to it! Nay, never! and although thou didst provide for me a good home and I was blest with kind relations and friends, yet nothing can induce me, for what are they compared to my gospel relations? For these I feel a pure, heavenly, divine love, such as I never experienced before, and I hope that feeling may ever exist in time and in eternity. I have had a fair opportunity of judging for myself the

Elqrbss Anna White.

principles and manners of this 'singular people* and no one has ever influenced me in the least, it is my own free choice and I hope it is a wise one. I can bear all the reproaches that will be cast upon me for they will be but few, and would to God they were more! The burden will be thrown I know on thee more than any one else. And in conclusion I will say, 'Thy people shall be my people and thy God shall be my God.' In bonds of pure love! and affection, I remain as ever thy attacked daughter, Anna White."

Robert promptly replied:

"2nd day morning, 8th mo. 20, 1849.

"Daughter Kind and Greatly Beloved:

"I am glad to own the delight and comfort that thy communication of yesterday has ministered to my spirit. Thankfulness and joy abound yet not without sympathy in thy trials. But lift up thy :heart to God and thy head in hope. He that hath called thee will sustain thee in every proving dispensation. Remember that a sense of dependence leads to seek protection, and that even Jesus was so stripped as to cry out to God, 'Why hast thou forsaken me?' A feeling; of hunger and want is begotten that we may enjoy the fullness of the bread and waters of life. Trials and temptations are permitted that we may exercise our faith and increase therein. In looking forward be not anxious, but cultivate faith and confidence, that according to the requirements of each day, so will strength be administered. Seek not to avoid conflicts, but rather for strength to meet and overcome in them. It still feels to me that I should be willing for thee to look to returning with Hannah and Phebe, with the understanding that thy feelings have become attached to thy father's people and the intention of examining further into the truths of their profession and a willingness to hear and consider every objection that can be brought.

Cake of Spiritual Guides.

That in the strength of Truth thee will be no coward, hut as a simple seeker and follower of it, thou w51t not be turned out of its paths. I would have thee remember the words of Isaiah, 'He that believeth shall not make haste/ Not that thee should lag behind; but evidence a considerate, thoughtful, prayerful course, Gideon-like, turn the fleece again and again. I have confidence in thy discretion and leave thee with my love and blessing. Thy ever affectionate father, Robert White, Jr."

Anna complied with her father's request, returning with her mother and sister. Hannah remarked to the Elder fSSsters, — "If Anna has made up her mind, thee might as well try to move East Mountain as to move her!" The next month brought a letter, breathing the love and care of spiritual guides, closing with the words, "And now, little one, we feel to commend you to the care and keeping of Him who is ever ready to hear the cries of the needy and keepetih a constant watch over the tender lambs of (His fold." A letter written after her return from a visit at Watervliet, reveals the workings of her mind.

"New York, ioth mo. ioth, 1849.

"To Arabella Clark :

"Dear Friend — After I reached home last week thy letter was handed to me by Mother, and after reading it I feel best satisfied to comply with thy request to write to thee, for I desire to feel thankful for every expression of friendly interest in my welfare. I will now inform thee that the resolution which I have taken (hasty and inconsiderate as it may appear to thee and others) has by me been a subject of calm deliberation, and one which has occupied my mind for some length oi time, sufficiently so to satisfy myself as to the course x6

Eldress Anna White.

which I intend pursuing. I know it is an all-important step, but it is one that I have seriously reflected on; and it is from a sense of my responsibility to God as my Creator and my duty to myself and parents that I have made this choice, and come what may, I am determined not to act contrary to my conscientious views of right. Time is swiftly passing along and how necessary is it for every individual to yield strict obedience to the best light that is given them, and is it not right that every one should have a privilege, who have arrived at the years of understanding and are capable of judging for themselves, to make a free and independent use of their reason as regards matters of religion? Many may think that I have been deluded and led away by this singular people who are 'everywhere spoken against.' Well, so be it! Let the world say what it may, I am determined, unmindful of earthly friends or foes, to persevere in the work, that I am called to labor in. All the essential testimonies of early friends I hold to, and will strive to emulate their noble example of patient suffering reproach and derision for the truth's sake.

"During the summer I had an excellent opportunity of knowing and judging for myself whether these really were the people they profess to be, and I have found it to be true, 'By their fruits ye shall know them/ So that judging them by their fruits, I am compelled to acknowledge that if God has a people on the face of the earth these are they, and I long to be gathered to them; but think not that I do it without much tribulation of spirit. As to my Mother, I never before knew that I loved her so much, and my brothers and sisters never seemed more near and dear to me, so thee is mistaken if thee thinks that my love for them has diminished, but it is the reverse. I am sensible of my obligations and duty to my Mother and am sure there is no abatement of my affections for her. With respect to my Father, I would not have thee suppose that he has used any influence to

Opposition From Relatives.

bring me to Ihis views, and my confidence in him is not impaired by thy remarks upon him.

"If thee wishes to be informed of the principles of the Society, thee will find by candidly reading the books I send thee that the Scriptures of Truth are held by it to the fullest extent of thy recommendations, and after reading these books I will be glad to see thy objections as being contrary to the teachings of Christ and the Apostles.

"Affectionately thy friend,

"Anna White."

To the copy of this letter is added in pencil, in her handwriting of later years, "Never received an answer."

Of the final parting, it is doubtful if any recital was ever heard, save by her Elders in the Order of the gospel to which she was called. Cornell was bitter and unkind to his sister in her choice of a religious life, regarding her purpose fanatical, her choice a needless cruelty to their mother and her persistence a reprehensible obstinacy. Two only aside from her father had a good word to say for her. Her brother-in-law, the genial George Baker, gave his sympathy to the persecuted girl, urging his wife and the rest of the family to let her go in peace. The other was her grandfather, Rev. Calvin White, who gave her his blessing and approved her choice, bidding her Godspeed.

Robert accompanied Anna to her Shaker home and, returning, had to meet the accumulated feelings of the family. He writes to Anna that he loves to think of her living in her attic room with her pleasant companions, Rhoda and Phebe. These were two sisters, older than herself, and the attic chamber with sloping sides and a high-studded end facing the north, occupied a space now lost in two large rooms. In one letter, he says: "I have taken thy plaid silk dress and put it in my valise. I looked for thy bonnet, but could not find it." A letter