USA > Ohio > Highland County > Hillsboro > Hillsboro crusade sketches and family records > Part 10
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The "Ohio Crusade" has passed into history; the "Ohio Crusaders" have won an inextinguish- able fame. The "Women of the West " who led the "Whisky War," as it is called throughout the British Empire, gained for themselves, without intending it, the pioneer place in that great Woman's Temperance Movement that now belts the globe. The whirlwind of the Lord began in the little town of Hillsboro, on the 23d of De- cember, 1873. There the Pentecost of God de- scended, and seventy women, without the slight- est preconcerted plan, lifted their hands as silent witnesses, when asked by the good ministers and the famous lecturer if they were willing to go out from their homes and pray in the places where their husbands, sons, and brothers were tempted to
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their ruin. There the Crusade Psalm was read ; a rallying cry, "Give to the winds thy fears," was sung ; and the first silent, prayerful procession of wives and mothers moved along Ohio streets. The gentle-hearted woman whom they chose as their leader by spontaneous acclamation was one whose heart had been mellowed by glorious dis- cipline and sorrow. Away back in 1836, she had accompanied her father, then an Ohio delegate to the National Temperance Convention held in Saratoga, New York, and when, at his request, she went with him to the door of the hotel din- ing-room, which afforded ample accommodation for all the delegates in that rudimentary period of the movement, and he asked her to enter with him, Eliza Thompson, who was a girl of but twenty years, naturally hesitated, saying to ler stout-hearted sire: "Why, father, I am afraid to go in. I looked through the door, and there were no women present, only men." Upon this the governor exclaimed: "Come right along with me; my daughter must never be afraid in a good cause !" And taking her by the arm, he intro- duced the first woman who ever entered a Na- tional Temperance Convention in the United States. Who shall say that in this scene-how much more worthy of a painter than most of the subjects that they choose !- we have not a proph- ecy of what was to transpire nearly forty years
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later in the town of that sweet girl's nativity ? Ancestry counts for much, and it should never be forgotten in our study of heredity, that the leader of the Crusade came of a long line of de- vont Christian ancestors, whose earlier history dated back to Virginia, that famous State which was the home of George Washington, and is known in history as the " Mother of Presidents."
The first time that I ever saw Mrs. Judge Thompson she was seated on the platform on the right of Mrs. Jane Fowler Willing, the president of the Convention in Cleveland, November, 1874, at which the National Woman's Christian Tem- perance Union was organized. I came to the Convention from Evanston, Illinois, where I had resigned a professorship in the Northwestern University, only a few months before. Never having been a temperance worker, I had no know- ledge of the persons of the Crusade save such as an intelligent reader was able to gather from the current press. Of Mrs. Thompson and Mother Stewart I had heard; but I had no prevision as to who was entitled to the high honor of being called the leader of the first Praying Band of the Crusade. But in Cleveland this question was settled for all time. While Mother Stewart was applauded as "a burning and shining light," whose natural gifts of speech and dauntless bravery would forever make her a central figure
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in the Crusade picture, it was taken as a matter of course that the quiet, low-voiced, motherly little woman on the platform was " first in war" even as she has always been "first in peace." It was freely said, that in Washington Court-house, where the Crusade broke out the day following its manifestation in Hillsboro, greater results were reached, and that hence the fire spread with a steady flame; but the women of Hills- boro were "in at the birth," and Hillsboro is the cradle, even as Washington Court-house is the crown, of the Crusade.
So far as I can learn, the women of Hillsboro put forward no claim, nor did their leader. Per- haps this was because there was no need for them to do so ; and to my mind, the strongest confirma- tion of their deserved pre-eminence is the quiet, gentle, peace-making spirit that they have shown from the beginning. For my part, I can testify that it has only been " by the hardest" that her comrades have been able to induce Mrs. Thomp- son to come forward and gently take her place as "leader of the first Praying Band." On some notable occasions this typical woman of the home, the Church, and school has stood forth as a historic figure. Who of us whose lot has been cast as an officer or delegate to the National Con- vention since the beginning, can forget the genial, smiling presence and piquant words of that Cru-
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sade mother whom we all love so much? To hear her tell the story of the way in which the movement broke out in Hillsboro is an experi- ence to be cherished for a lifetime. Her quaint, refined presence ; her mild, motherly face, framed in its little cap; her soft voice; her peculiar manner of utterance, combining remarkable originality with the utmost gentleness and good breeding; her inimitable humor; and, most char- acteristic of all, her deep, abiding faith in God and in humanity,-all these have made an indel- ible impression, and helped, beyond what we can at all estimate, to form the character of the White Ribbon Movement. Naturally of a conservative disposition, Mrs. Thompson has, nevertheless, kept time to the company's music ; she has taken every wave of the onrolling tide of impulse that we believe to be from God, as a strong swimmer breasts the incoming waves of the sea. It was no trifle for a woman with the traditions of "Old Virginia" to accept our woman's suffrage resolu- tion away back in 1877; and the beauty of it was, that her manner of announcing the faith that was within her lent so much of quiet strength to the decision of the Convention. It was the same when we avowed our fealty to the Prohibi- tion party in 1884, and when, at Cleveland re- cently, the proposition was put forward to have a vice-president-at-large, who should represent
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the president in her absence. Although twenty years had passed since the Crusade, her "eye was not dimmed nor her natural force abated ;" and I never have known a Convention more amused, convinced, unified, than by her inimitable little speech upon that question.
At this distance it can do no harm to refer to the incident that accompanied the lamented de- parture of a dozen good women, headed by one who was at that time a well-known leader in our councils. I refer to the non-partisan exodus in Battery D, Chicago, at the Annual Convention of 1889. When these sisters, thirteen in number, out of a Convention of four hundred or there- abouts, retired from the scene, I asked if there were not other women from Iowa, the State that had contributed most of the departing delegates, who would fill up the vacancies ; and from forty to fifty Hawkeye White Ribboners crowded for- ward amid the plaudits of the Convention. Mary T. Lathrap then rose, and, with her usual dignity and grace, offered a resolution of respect and re- gret, which was unanimously adopted; after which Mrs. Thompson came forward, it being now late at night, later indeed than a woman of her age should have been out at a public meeting- and I dare say the like had never happened her before, and never will again-and, with a gesture of mingled drollery and pathos, threw around my
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shoulders the shawl she had worn in the Crusade procession, and standing beside me called on the delegates to rally. It was one of the most in- spired moments that I have ever witnessed. The whole Convention rose, crowding together, and we sang the song that Mother Thompson-for so we love to call her in these later years-had given out when the first Praying Band moved forward:
"Give to the winds thy fears."
Best of all, this dramatic action was wholly un- premeditated. Mother Thompson had brought the shawl to give it to me as a surprise; she had no idea that our sisters contemplated leaving us ; but she is that kind of a woman. She has her forces well in hand; she is imperturbable; as Garfield said of his true-hearted wife, "She is unstam- pedeable." This great quality is not only in- herited and innate, but comes of the culture of a lifetime in "the peace of God that passeth un- derstanding."
It was my good fortune, as far back as 1876, to make a tour among the Crusaders of Ohio, visiting well-nigh forty of their towns and vil- lages. I could write a volume on the history, experience, and inspiration of that memorable pilgrimage. It was one of the few times in my life that I ever went forth alone; and I was mothered in the homes of those devoted women
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with a tenderness that will never be forgotten. My own stipulation in making the trip was that I should go to Hillsboro, the home of Mrs. Thompson, and to Springfield, the home of Mother Stewart, in both of which we took sweet counsel together.
Mrs. Thompson's home is the old family mansion where the governor spent all his days, and which he bequeathed to his beloved only daughter. It stands on a slight ascent and in a wooded grove, at the edge of a well-built town of four thousand inhabitants, and is roomy and hospitable as heart could wish. Here I met Judge Thompson, the genial, witty lawyer, and husband of our leader; Mrs. Marie Thompson Rives, the accomplished elder daughter; and Henry Thompson, the youth who brought the tidings to his mother that she was expected at the church on that memorable morning. I longed to see that lovely younger daughter, who from her pocket Bible brought to her mother the Cru- sade Psalm, that is the Magna Charta of the White Ribbon Movement; but she was gone, having been married to Herbert Tuttle, the dis- tinguished professor in Cornell University, Ithaca, New York.
Those were delightful days in that happy home. We visited the famous Crusade Church, and made the acquaintance of its pastor, the
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Rev. Dr. McSurely, who befriended the women from first to last in all their work. We held meetings in the basement of his church, where the first Crusade Praying Band convened; we read the Crusade Psalm from the old Bible, and sang the Crusade hymn. And I have now in my den at home, given me by dear Mrs. Thomp- son, a relic of the Crusade days from a Hillsboro saloon, one of the first ever visited. There she is living still, our Crusade mother, surrounded by her dear ones. It is fortunate for us that we have the record of the "beginnings of things" in the movement of which we are a part, penned by the faithful hand whose chirography I seem to see, "plainer than print," as I dictate these words to my stenographer here in Eastnor Castle, England, a place which I should never liave be- held, in a country which would probably never have been like home to me, except for her; but . which is now mapped out to the White Ribbon Movement, and led by the choicest flower of the nobility of England. And all this is because there were women who dared, women who be- lieved in God, and went bravely forward when the Divine call had touched their hearts; and of them all, Eliza Trimble Thompson was the leader.
MAY, 20, 1895.
VI. LETTER OF LADY HENRY SOMERSET. 205
LADY SOMERSET.
London, August 15, 1893.
DEAR AND HONORED FRIEND :
Your charming letter has just been read to Miss Willard and to me, and as Miss Willard is going to send a line, I add this word of affectionate remem- brance. You are doing a service to the cause that will be more and more appreciated as time goes on in giving to the great White Ribbon Army an au- thentic record of those Origines, concerning which you can so truly say: "All of which I saw, and part of which I was."
We all think your Sketches should appear in book-form, and marvel that you have so clear and bright a pen, both figuratively and literally, after your lifetime of care and toil.
I have been waiting in the hopes of being able to send you one of my large photographs; but as they are not yet finished, I send you this. The other shall come to you as soon as possible, and will be framed, so that, if you care to hang it up, you will look sometimes on the face of one who has for you the deepest sympathy and admiration.
Please remember me to Judge Thompson and your sons and daughters, of whom Miss Willard has often spoken.
Hoping to see you in Chicago, I am yours ever affectionately, in White Ribbon bonds,
ISABEL SOMERSET.
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PART II.
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CHAPTER I.
MRS. THOMPSON IN LITERATURE-AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A BABY-EPISODES IN 1837-FRAGMEN- TARY WRITINGS.
M RS. THOMPSON "felt the poetry of life." Harmony was her prominent characteristic. Her ideals and conduct were in such tune that it was not necessary for her to exercise herself in literal rhythm and rhyme ; but the following poems from her · pen show that she could so express herself when she chose to.
WRITTEN JANUARY 14, 1873.
Flow softly, sweet Shiloah, and as thy waves roll, We'll sing of thy power to rescue the soul From sin and from darkness, from death and from woe, And hail thee, as onward thro' earth thou dost go.
Flow softly, O Shiloah, among our lost race,
! Murmuring notes of redemption, bid all come and taste ; Thy waters so pure and so cooling they seem,
Sure all who behold thee will drink of thy stream.
Then flow, lovely Shiloah, flow on in thy might, Till the world shall be gladdened by waters so bright; Then sin and pollution, war, carnage, and blood, Shall pass from our earth, made pure by thy flood.
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How placid, O Shiloah, shall thy current then be, When the joy of lost Eden once we shall see, The rose in the wilderness, blooming and sweet, Lov'd voices of praise in the desert we'll greet.
All nations and kindred one language will speak, No need shall there be a lost neighbor to seek; For all, from the least to the greatest, must know The joy of salvation, so free it will flow.
We praise Thee, dear Savior, for love so divine, Sending "peace and good will" into every clime; Blessed Shiloah, flow on, and hasten, we pray, The glory, the bliss, of "Millennial" day !
"These lines were composed one night while watch- ing with my dear mother, a short time before she passed away:" Mrs. Thompson's Memorandum.
Why, O my soul, do fears arise, And gloomy thoughts becloud the skies? "Behold yon bow," -- it seems to say, "My grace is ever as thy day."
"I go before thee," hear Him say; "The darkest night shall turn to day, Gates of brass I'll open wide, And bars of iron turn aside."
"Rough paths I'll henceforth smooth for thee, And crooked ways shall straightened be; All this I'll do, and not forsake Those who in covenant love I take."
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Blest Savior, let me ever be Firm in my faith, and love to Thee; Let naught of earth my heart ensnare, But on my Father cast my care.
Then when the waves of Jordan roll Around my blood-bought, weary soul, Bear me in Thy beloved embrace To heaven, Thy holy dwelling place.
.
Mrs. Thompson had, in her girlhood, womanhood, and early married life, read good literature. Her hus- band spent the long winter evenings reading aloud from classic authors; but later on the thoughts that sustained her were not selections from Shakespeare, Milton, or Burns, nor even her dear "Hannah More," but the daily study of her Bible, Life of the Wesleys, and memorized thoughts from the famous hymn- writers. She was especially fond of these lines from Dr. Isaac Watts :
"Our life contains a thousand springs, And dies if one be gone ; Strange that a harp of thousand strings Should keep in tune so long !"
Yet, if occasion demanded, she would cheerfully read aloud to others modern books. The daily paper, The Western Christian Advocate, The Union Signal, The New Voice, were looked over with a real zest to the very last months of her life.
The Bible, with its vivid pictures and powerful positions, appealed to her histrionic sense. It awoke
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all the poetry and imaginative gift within her. One who knows this is not surprised that she contemplated writing a devotional volume, to be poeticallly entitled, "Stones from the Bed of Jordan: What mean ye by these Stones?" Among her papers is a stray leaf of loose manuscript, which reads as follows:
"The obscure yet thoughtful mother, who pre- pared the five barley-loaves and two small fishes for her boy, that he might not hunger while following the Master into the desert, little dreamed those brown loaves would be honored by Christ Himself in feeding the five thousand; yet it was so; and who shall say that her heart was not inspired to make this provision for God's plan of feeding the multitude? It is a great privilege to be chosen as the medium through which our God works His grand designs."
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A BABY.
Sympathetic appreciation of child-life, ability to in- terpret and communicate with it, has been a character- istic of many noble spirits. That Mrs. Thompson was pre-eminent in this is fully illustrated in the fol- lowing sketch written at the request of the editor of The Young Crusader, 1899:
" "The face of death is toward the Sun of Life ; His shadow darkens earth; his truer name Is "Onward," no discordance in the roll And march of the Eternal Harmony.'
(Tennyson.)
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"The old Family Record says :
" 'ELIZA JANE TRIMBLE, } BORN AUGUST 24, 1816, HILLSBORO, OHIO.'
"There was nothing remarkable in the arrival of this atom of creation, save that a little baby girl was introduced into a family group of grandma, father and mother, five uncles, and four brothers. This novelty- a little baby girl-promised much delight. But, alas for human hope! in a few hours tears and sighs were substituted for the brief rejoicings as the announce- ment went forth from that darkened room, 'The child is dead.' The 'christening robe' took the place of the first simple, soft, tiny wrapper so tenderly prepared by the thoughtful mother, and kisses and tears were showered by a father whose beautiful dream of a daughter had so quickly vanished. Just at this crisis, however, an arrival that had been greatly desired was announced. A lovely old lady, attired in faultless drab, one of the good Samaritans of the 'Wilderness,' quietly entered, and, softly approaching the stricken mother, stopped to kiss her, saying as she did so: 'My dear daughter, I was detained to render service in a very sad, poor family ; but I left thy cause in the Father's hands, and it must be well.' She then, with a grandmother's loving tenderness, lifted the dainty covering from the (supposed) miniature corpse, and, after skillful research, signs of remaining life were discovered, and in her noiseless way preparations were quickly made for the testing. Soon it was with this
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child as with the little daughter of Jairus, 'Her spirit came again, and her parents were astonished.'
"The breakfast 'feast' that followed, at the sug- gestion of the overjoyed father, was from earliest memory one of the stories in that home, so captivating that it could not be too often repeated by the faithful old cook who proudly officiated on the occasion. "The new extension table of olden style,' seating fourteen, was brought into requisition for the first time, and seven aunts, grandmothers two, three faithful neigh- bors, the happy father, and reliable housekeeper com- pleted the group which surrounded this table. Dear Grandma Trimble 'asked the blessing' on that memo- rable morning, and 'Aunt Sarah' usually finished her description of the 'feast of fat things' by exclaiming, 'And I jist tell you, chile, I ain't never heard no sich a blessin' since. Why, dey wus all a-cryin' and a-laffin' bof at that breakfus.'
"Little Eliza Jane-so she was christened-did not begin to walk until she was three years old. It seems that she could not make up her mind to take a step until one day her father, returning from Colum- bus, took out a beautiful blue silk-embossed satchel with silver stars, and said, 'Come! if you will walk toward me I will give you this.' She started and ran. He caught her in his arms, and, from that time on, her walk was characterized by unusual alertness. Nat- urally this little girl was a great pet among so many uncles and brothers, to say nothing of the grand- mothers and the devoted parents. The father and one uncle had just served in the War of 1812, and the
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serious wound received by Colonel William A. Trimble at the battle of Lake Erie was a subject of family conversation which caused the child to ever associate war with miserable consequences ; but nevertheless she admired the swords and regimentals quite as much as she did her little spinning-wheel, or possibly her beau- tiful little piano. But nothing aroused her real ad- miration to such a degree as did the wild, spotted deer, whose variegated horns looked so wonderful to her as he would make a plunge from the roof of the house on a winter morning, or take a leap through the bake- oven, when 'Patsy' left the door open and the chim- ney exposed. , But, like all human joy, there came an end to his life one day, in consequence of having run his antlers through the fine yarn which the lovely Quaker mother had hung out to bleach in the sun. Such mischief could not be tolerated, she said, and so the dear creature was sacrificed; but Eliza would not eat a morsel of his venison. And when Grandmother Trimble, with whom she roomed, wanted her as usual to get up at midnight and say her prayers, she found herself quite rebellious at first.
"The uncle who had been wounded was now not only colonel in the regular army, but had been made United States Senator, and before starting for Wash- ington City he stood his little niece on a table, put his arm around her and said to her father: 'If I live to return, brother, I want you to promise me that I may superintendent the education of Eliza.'
"By the return post there came material for a dress for this child, selected by the stately senator,
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buff with pink rosebuds. When she went to school wearing this dress, her little companions said to each other, 'Don't speak to her; she thinks she is so grand because she's got on a dress from Washington City.' Later this same uncle sent her a miniature Indian canoe, which he purchased when on his trip to Fort Dearborn with General Cass to make the treaty with the Indians. In the museum of Ann Arbor, Mich- igan, there is an exquisite tortoise-shell fan presented to the museum by Mrs. Thompson in honor of her cousin's memory, Ann Allen, whose husband founded Ann Arbor. They visited Hillsboro on their way to Ann Arbor, and Mrs. Allen gave Eliza the charming fan which now the 'Daughters of the American Revo- lution' of Ann Arbor value among their most beau- tiful treasures."
One of the inmates of the family at this time was . an old Frenchman, who taught the four boys and their little sister, and the little French Testament from which Eliza was taught to read is now in the museum of Berne, Switzerland, having been presented by Mrs. Thompson to the president of the National Woman's Christian Temperance Union. Mrs. Lillian M. N. Stevens, to whom she was so truly devoted, took this Testament to the Convention at Berne, Switzerland, in 1902, and the new president of Berne Woman's Christian Temperance Union read from it, and then it was presented to the museum of Berne.
Miss Anna Gordon owns the little piano which be- longed to Mrs. Thompson when she was a young girl, but the spinning-wheels are still in the old home.
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EPISODES
The following characteristic anecdote appeared in "A True Republic," as related by Mrs. Thompson of Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, who had charge at one time of the primary department of Miss Katherine Beecher's school, which was located in Cincinnati, Ohio, and which Mrs. Thompson as a young girl at- tended. It was the habit of Mrs. Stowe to take the children once a week for a walk or a stroll through the woods, botanizing. Her methods for the study of the child life and her ways of imparting knowledge to these little ones were wholly original, so that she fasci- nated her pupils. Object lessons, not text-books, but rather extemporaneous teachings, made even the chil- dren aware of the fact that they had a great woman to teach them. On these afternoons of recreation in the outdoor life she always selected from her sister Katherine's advanced pupils two or three young women to accompany her and the children. It often- times was Eliza Trimble's good fortune to be one of the chosen companions. On the occasion referred to she was walking very leisurely with Mrs. Stowe when she found herself startled by the question : "Eliza, what do the farmers' wives in your county call their husbands when speaking of them? You have a large acquaintance in rural districts; now, then, can't you remember ?"
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