Mary Coombs Greenleaf II

But I did not come here to live at my ease, and I rejoice to labor for these red children, and train them up in the way they should go. ~ Mary Coombs Greenleaf

In this post, we continue the story of our cousin Mary Coombs Greenleaf (6C5X). The bulk of the content for this post is taken directly from Mary's journal and her letters to friends.

life at the Academy

The Wapanucka Academy was largely self-supporting with the raising of their own produce, beef and poultry. Dry goods were shipped from New York, New Orleans and Texas. Mary did complain about the lack of vegetable that first year as the garden had been destroyed by grasshoppers.

As the time approached for the Academy to open for the year, Mary was kept busy preparing for her 33 students. First on the agenda would be to "cut and fit at least a hundred dresses for them, and teach them to make them properly." Mary's students would be of all different ages and sizes since the girls at the school were divided into "families." that "more closely approximated the conditions of home life, making for a more meaningful learning experience."

About the curriculum for the girls, Mary wrote:

The girls are not educated specially for teachers, for they marry so young here, we want to fit them for good wives and mothers, and hope they will teach the next generation what they know themselves. Some of the girls have recently been to see us, some bringing peaches as a present. We feel anxious respecting those who were serious (about teaching), but our hope is that God will not suffer them to grieve the Spirit away entirely.

Letter from September 28:

We have all been very busy for several days, preparing for the return of the scholars on Wednesday next. I believe I wrote you that I am to have the care of thirty three girls. . .and try to be what a mother ought to be to them. If sick, I must take care of them by night as well as by day; so you perceive my hands and heart will be full. Yet I look forward to these labors without apprehension, trusting that the Omnipotent and Omnipresent Saviour will be near to succor and sustain, —

Finally, in October, the girls began to arrive. From Mary's journal:

October 3. Our scholars come in very slowly, — it is natural to the Indians to be sluggish in their movements; yet I have been very busy all the week. I have moved into the third story as my girls all sleep there, and I prefer being near them in the night, so that if any are sick, I can step into their rooms at once.

But I did not come here to live at my ease, and I rejoice to labor for these red children, and train them up in the way they should go.

Below is a photograph of the Academy with the girls gathered in front:

notes from Mary's letters

Oct 30, 1856 ~ I give up all my time to them except when they are in meeting or Sabbath school; and even in meeting I must look after them, to keep them in order. They are naturally wild and being accustomed at home to live without any order, it takes time to bring them into subjection. Under my care I have six wlio liave grown to womanhood, most of the others are under twelve years.

I have much reason for gratitude that my health and strength have been continued, while most of the ladies have suffered a good deal from chills and fever, which is the disease of the climate, and from which few are exempted. The children frequently have chills, and then nursing is added to my other duties; still I enjoy my labors, and have been more uniformly contented here, than I have since the death of my dear mother.

Nov 1st ~ One pretty little girl came to us without a name, and I call her Jane Greenleaf for my mother. May her mantle fall upon the dear child. She understands my smile, and a pat on her head, as marks of approbation, and is very obedient, so far as she understands my directions. The children are generally silent in my presence, and seldom speak to me, except in a whisper. . .They are affectionate, and sometimes come and stroke my hair, or manifest affection in other ways, which is very pleasant."

Nov 15 ~ We have had sickness among our girls ever since they came. During the last week, several severe cases of dysentery have occurred; not among the girls under my care however, owing perhaps to the prayers of friends in Newburyport. Their sickness has been slight. Jane Greenleaf has been ill, but soon got better.

Dec 14 ~ Winter has commenced here, though the Indians say it is quite early. The girls seem very sensitive to cold, for although at home, they live in open houses, and go barefooted all winter; yet here with very warm clothing, they hover round the stove, and seem to suffer more than poor children at the north.

Dec 28 ~ One of my girls ran away in company with several others from another department, and has not returned. No reason can he assigned for their going, except the usual love of their homes, and their dislike to restraint. . .Generally the children are wild and thoughtless, but I am deeply interested in them, and labor on cheerfully; and in faith that some seed will spring up, and bear fruit to life eternal, though it may not be until I am laid in the grave.

Jan 1st, 1857 ~ The Chickasaws are a very gay, licentious people, having lived before their removal, among the whites in Mississippi; and many returned soldiers from the Mexican war have settled here and taken Indian women. They have learned a great deal of evil of the whites — they have l)een cheated so by them, and so many money-loving men have come here, to fleece them out of their annuity, that Mr. W. thinks they imagine we all come for money, and it will take time to gain their full confidence.

Jan 30 ~ Tomorrow is my birthday. Fifty-seven years have gone, and but few probably remain in which I can perform active service for Him to whom I owe my all. Though my dear mother lived to be more than thirty years older than I am now, I do not expect to attain her age; nor does it seem desirable, yet this is not my concern, but rather to fill up time with duty, and in all things to serve Christ.

Feb 9 ~ Some of the little ones are extremely .winning in their ways, though all have faults, and show plainly that they belong to a fallen race.

Feb 18 ~ I have been much interested in reading of Dr. Livingstone in the papers, and I think one effect of my coming here will be to make me feel more for missionaries everywhere. They have many things to discourage them, yet on the whole, I think they are happier than the mass of Christians at home. God makes up the loss of their enjoyments by giving them a cheerful and contented spirit.

Apr 21 ~ Not a week passes without some of our girls having chills and fever, but they are not all sick at once, which is a great mercy. There is less running away this session than ever before; and those who do go home, are most of them soon returned by the parents.

May 11 ~ The Choctaws are in advance of this tribe, in regard to both education and religion, having had more Missionary labor bestowed upon them. At the recent meeting of the Presbytery in their country, one of their eldera subscribed twenty dollars for Foreign Missions. He subscribed the same amount last year, and to pay it, took a pony to the Missionary.

May 15 ~ The children had their promised party on the first of May. Many of them had wreaths on their heads, and looked very pretty. They behaved very well indeed. Though slow in their motions about work, they are quick enough at play, and are real romps, I keep a rod as a scare-crow, but it is not often necessary to use it.

Three of my girls had to go to bed with chills, and when sick they cry and moan until you come to them. . . Their cry ' a-la, a-la,' (oh dear), is very mournful. A physician at Boggy Depot, thinks the chills are produced by miasma from the creeks.. .I supposed I should be a subject for chills, but have escaped as yet; whether the second year will be as healthy for me, remains to be seen. I leave it quietly in my Father's hands. Diseases are his servants.

On Saturday afternoon Mr. Wilson accompanied the ladies, and about thirty girls, in a walk to see some of the sublimities of this region. There are three of the caves I mentioned before on the edge of the creek. . .We scrambled down among the rocks as best we could, tearing our dresses sadly, and walked into the cave; Turning to the left, in a kind of closet, we found a bird's nest with four eggs, and looking up over head, we saw brake and violets growing out of small fissures in the rocks. After this we crossed the creek; Mr. W. chopping down limbs of trees to lay across, on which we walked, taking a large stick in our hands to preserve our balance, and keep us from falling into the water, which though shallow, would have given us a good wetting, had we made a mis-step.

No date ~ No Missionary has ever died at this place, — all leave in a few years, many losing their health from over-working. The truth is, we are so scantily provided with laborers, that almost all do too much. . .I shall probably leave in a few years, as I shall be too old to do all the work required here. . .I do not regret coming here. I think I shall at least learn something myself, if I do no good to others; and the experience of the goodness of God to me on the journey, and since I came, is invaluable.

May 22 ~ The school will close the first clay of July. . .We need a third school, for the two are too full, making it too laborious for the teachers.

Jun 11 ~ One of my friends wishes to know if I am studying Chickasaw. I am not. It is a difficult matter to learn that language, and of very little use, as the teaching is all in English.

Mr. Wilson studies it in the hope of being able to preach without an interpreter, but it will probably be several years before he can do this. I was talking with him the other day about this territory, and he thinks in twenty years it will be a part of the United States, the majority of the inhabitants be white, or half breeds, as so many white men are settling here, and intermarrying with Indians, or bringing wives with them; so that it is very important, we now do all we can for their education and Christianization. . .If I were twenty years younger, and expected to remain here as long as I live, perhaps I should try to learn it; but at present have no time, but to add a little to my stock.

Jun 20 ~ Just as we were flattering ourselves with the hope of a little comparative rest from labor, the dysentery made its appearance among us, and the cases hitherto have been very obstinate. It is a week today since it commenced among my girls, and Cornelia only sits up a short time. Poor things. I know they suffer a great deal, and so I try to do all that can be done for them

The weather here now is very delightful, not excessively warm. We have frequent showers, and have vegetables from the garden. School closes in ten days, and then we can rest, and prepare for future labors. . .My health is still good, and I have a multitude of mercies. If I go away from here in vacation, I shall miss letters very much, but hope to find many on my return.

With love to all friends, I remain yours affectionately and gratefully,

Very sadly, stalwart Mary died of dysentery just six days after the June 20th letter was written. Charles Wilson, head of the school, wrote of the death to the Reverend Daniel Dana, minister of the Presbyterian Church in Newburyport. Daniel's first wife was Mary's aunt, Elizabeth Coombs.

To THE Rev. Dr. Dana, of Newburyport.

From Kev. C. H. Wilson, Superintendent of the Wapanucka Mission.

Wapanucka Institute, July 2d, 1857.

My dear Sir,

I begin this letter with sadness in my own heart, and it will carry sadness to yours also. Your relative and my friend has been called away from this earth. I know not with what words to accompany this intelligence. Our first thoughts were certainly about our own loss, and it was not until afterwards it came to our minds that there were others more interested than ourselves.

. . .Quite a number of the Indian girls under her immediate charge, had dysentery, and for more than ten days she had been unremitting in her attentions to them. I thought she did not seem quite well herself; and from time to time cautioned her to intrust the more active attentions to some of the older girls. She did so only in part. On Sabbath, June 21st, she acknowledged she had had the same disease for a few days, but very slightly. I insisted that she would then leave all the nursing of the sick to the older girls under my direction, and lie down quietly herself. She consented, and at once took the medicine which I advised. She did not get better, but rather worse, until Monday evening. Then she began to be better, and continued so until Thursday morning, when she became worse, and continued to grow worse all day. I saw that she seemed to be worse, but when I frequently inquired as to her symptoms, she gave me such statements as to make me think I was mistaken. She was not aware herself of some of the worst features of her disease. Towards evening I felt so sure of her being worse, I immediately resumed the medicines, and during the night thought she was a little better. Soon after daylight the disease returned with more violence than ever; in an hour she was unconscious, in half an hour more, speechless, and sunk rapidly. The last two hours she seemed to be in distress, until only a few minutes, before she died, when her breathing became easy, and she sank quietly to rest. She died about twelve o'clock Friday, June twenty-sixth, and was laid in her grave on Saturday, twenty-seventh, about six o'clock in the afternoon.

To all her girls she had endeared herself very much. . .

She came among us a stranger, but we soon learned to love her. Her humility, and child-like simplicity, made us feel that she was our sister. Her age, Christian experience, and ripe judgment, made us feel that she was almost our mother. So it was often hard to define the nature of our aftection for her. And then her cheerful, joyful energy, diffused itself through our whole household.

. . .To many of our people she had become attached, and them to her. Her sympathy and interest went beyond the school, and took in all the members of our little church, and indeed of this whole people. Quite a number of them attended her funeral. . .Though dead, she still speaks to us, who were her companions in labor, and to those who were under her charge.

It may perliaps occur to some that she was a sacrifice to the climate, or unhealthfulness of the country. I feel sure that such was not the case. Fever and ague is the prevailing climate disease. She had none of that. Many of us escape it entirely. Dysentery was to some extent, epidemic in our school. It was not hard to manage in the case of young persons; and all the girls who were permitted to remain under our care, have recovered. She had done too much for the sick, taking more care than was absolutely needful of those who are accustomed to recover with so little care at home.

With most heartfelt sympathy, and yet a blessed assurance of her unspeakable happiness, I am, dear sir, yours in Christ. C. H. Wilson

Mary's memoir was compiled a year after her death for the Massachusetts Sabbath School Society.

The Wapanucka Academy closed in 1860 after the Presbyterian Board withdrew its financial support. The Confederate forces used the building during the Civil War as a hospital and a prison. After the war the academy reopened, then serving both male and female students. In 1890 it became a boys' school, and in 1911 it was permanently closed and the property sold.