Prisons and Prayer; Or, a Labor of Love

How thankful I was for shelter in that poor hut that night, though sleeping by my side was that poor unfortunate colored girl with a babe in her arms that cried all the night. There were cracks in the hut through which you could see the stars. What a change the Lord had wrought in the once proud woman that I had been! I remembered that Jesus said, "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head." And "The disciple is not above his master." I spent the night in prayer and God heard my cries for the poor convicts who were cruelly starved and beaten by the drunken guards and captain who seemed to bitterly hate all who were so helplessly bound under them. This is a strong statement but I will meet it at the Judgment.

In the morning one woman who had turned me from her door sent to find out what had become of me. She said she would give the young woman who had sheltered me a present for not leaving me out on the mountain alone. I had prayed earnestly that God would convict her for her lack of hospitality. Upon going to the officer to learn when I could have a meeting with the prisoners, he unkindly turned me away saying that I should never have a meeting there, and that I might as well go.

Well, I did go; traveling eighty miles back to the capital, Montgomery, Alabama, to see the Governor. I knew the Lord had sent me, and how could I meet Him at the Judgment and tell Him I had failed? I knew, too, that Satan had hindered. I asked for the Governor but was told that the President of the Board of Prison Inspectors was the proper person for me to see about the matter. He was sent for and soon came. He was a very kind old gentleman and sat down and asked me what I wished. When I had related the facts he said, "Who dare refuse you holding meetings in that prison camp? You go back there and hold your meeting. I'll write him a letter and let him hear from me." I said, "But he will say he did not receive your letter." He then said he would write a letter for me to present to him. But, how should I get back to the camp? After selling my trunk and such articles of clothing as I could spare, I yet did not have enough money to pay railway fare.

MY FIRST FREE PASS

Trusting the Lord to in some way provide means for me to get back to the camp, I went to the janitress of the depot, an intelligent mulatto, and told her of my need, as she had previously assisted me in securing half-fare rates on the railroad, she having known the officials since their childhood. She insisted that I should go to the office of the general manager of the L. & N. R. R. and ask for a half-fare rate to the prison camp at New Castle, Ala. Oh, how I dreaded to go to that office! But tremblingly and prayerfully I went, and presenting to him the letter which I was to carry with me to the camp, I told him my desires. Upon reading this letter he handed me what I supposed was a half-fare permit. I humbly thanked him and returned to my lodging. After making preparation to start early in the morning on my journey, before retiring for the night I knelt by my bedside to thank God for the permit. Thinking I would see just how it read before I prayed, I took it up and began reading, "Pass Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton From Montgomery to Birmingham, Ala., Prison, Missionary." What! Did my eyes deceive me, or was it a mistake. No. It was a free pass, and the following note was enclosed to the Superintendent at the other end of the route regarding a return pass if I should ask for it:

Louisville & Nashville Railroad Co.,Montgomery, Ala., Jan. 15, 1885.

L. Hage, Esq., Supt., Birmingham, Ala.

Dear Sir: This lady, Mrs. Elizabeth Wheaton, bears credentials showing her to be a prison missionary. Any courtesy you may extend to her, in the way of pass, will be properly applied.

Yours truly,M. S. Belknap, Supt.

Oh, how I did thank God for this manifestation of His goodness to me—doing above that which I could ask or think! Mr. Belknap, that kind R. R. officer, has been dead many years, and perhaps is forgotten by some who knew him better than I, but I shall never forget his unexpected kindness to me. Since then, through the goodness of God and the favor and confidence of the railroad officials, I have received transportation throughout the country, to carry the Gospel of Jesus to men and women of every class.

Upon my return to the prison camp I asked for the officer and told him I had come to hold meeting for the prisoners. I suppose he had received word from the Governor's office, as he so readily consented, asking at what hour I would like to have the service. I thought best to wait till the following day (Sunday) for the services, that I might have sufficient time for my work. The Lord came in mighty power that Sabbath day as I sang the old time hymns, and asked God to forgive and help those precious souls. The Spirit gave me utterance and carried the truth to the hearts of the hearers. Sobs and groans were heard from men in tears who sought forgiveness and gave God their hearts. At the close I took each one by the hand and exhorted them to be faithful to God. I afterwards visited the sick and talked and prayed with them, exhorting them to seek a home in heaven where sin can never come, and where God wipes away all tears. How true the words,

"Down in the human heart, crushed by the tempter,Feelings lie buried that grace can restore;Touched by a loving heart, wakened by kindness,Chords that were broken will vibrate once more."

One Sunday morning I was going to a prison camp to hold meeting. There was no way to get there excepting to walk through the deep mud. There were a couple of boys going towards the stockade leading an old mule. I said, "O, boys, CAN'T I RIDE THAT MULE?" "Certainly," they said. It was with difficulty that I mounted the novel conveyance, and that I remained on the mule's back. For some reason, I was filled with apprehension. I had an impression that there was danger. I asked the boys if they would not lead the animal, but they kept a good distance from it, saying that they wanted to keep out of the mud.

When we reached the camp and the officers came out and helped me to dismount, they looked at me in great astonishment, and one of them said, "What a narrow escape you have made! I only wonder that you got here alive. It is a wonder that old mule didn't kill you. I wonder that the boys let you take it!" I learned that the animal was so utterly uncontrollable and vicious that they could only use him on a dump cart to carry the prisoners' dinner or something of the sort and then he would sometimes kick the cart all to pieces.

I raised my heart in thanksgiving to God, knowing that He who stopped the lion's mouth and held the flames of the fiery furnace had in some way kept this ugly creature from doing me any harm and saved my life.

CHAPTER XII.

Work in Stockades and Prison Camps—Continued

I once had a novel experience in a prison lumber camp. I was being entertained at the home of the superintendent of the camp and was to hold service with the prisoners at twilight. The superintendent came to the parlor and asked if I was ready for the service. We had not far to go, but I was unable to walk the distance; so a carriage, drawn by some of the prisoners, had been brought to the gate for me. I answered that I was ready, but as I was waiting he again asked if I was ready and why I was waiting. I replied that I was waiting for the horses. He answered, "You come on, the horses will be all right." I had learned to obey the officers, so followed on down through the beautiful yard of flowers and reluctantly stepped into the carriage. Instantly four prisoners took hold of the carriage and we were off. The men seemed glad to assist me and I was so thankful to them. God bless them! I do not think a queen with all her body-guard could have felt more secure or have been more appreciated, than I, there surrounded by my dear prison boys. After the service I was conveyed in the same manner back to the home of the superintendent.

At another time, desiring to visit a certain prison camp, I found there was no way to reach it but to ride on a flat car with the men going from their work. I was glad to go with them and have a chance to speak a word of kindness and sing some hymns that might cheer them on the way.

In the pineries of Florida the stockade prisoners are engaged in taking the sap from the pine trees. The camps are located some miles apart, and in going from one to another the forests are so dense that we were compelled to go in a two-wheeled donkey-cart. We encountered great dangers, there being many poisonous reptiles and alligators in the lakes and rivers which we had to pass.

ASSISTING A COLORED MINISTER

I arrived one Sunday morning at a stockade where hundreds of men and some women were kept. I went to the keeper, or captain, as he was called, and asked for the privilege of holding a gospel service with the prisoners under his charge. He not only refused me, but was abusive, cursing me and ordering me away. Of course I was much grieved, as I felt the Lord had sent me there to preach the gospel. I was greatly surprised that an official should use such language to a lady, and without provocation. Weeping, I asked if I might sing for the women prisoners. Again, with oaths, he refused me. But Brother Frank Joseph, a colored preacher who knew me, was there to hold religious services by permission of the governor, and he came and invited me to assist him. Of course the captain could say nothing against it and I went with him. But when he asked me to conduct the service I could not at the first sing, preach or pray for weeping, but I told him I would pray God to give them a kinder officer for I knew the one they had was a cruel man. God used even my weakness and my tears to touch their hearts and we had a blessed meeting.

After service I had a chance to talk to the women prisoners. We wept together and oh how thankful they were that there was one woman who would try to help them and make their burdens lighter. They told me how terribly they were treated and said they would be beaten if the captain knew of their telling me of it. How glad I was to carry the message of Jesus' love to them in their distress. Before I left they said they wished they had something to give me, and some gave small tokens of their regards. It was all they had to give and when they urged me I accepted them as from the Lord, feeling that He would in some way reward them and bless their offering as He did the widow's mite.

THROUGH DANGER ALONE

Desiring to reach another stockade some miles distant I asked the captain if he could not supply me with conveyance and a guide, but he refused. I determined, however, to find the other prison and started on foot alone. The prison women told me that it was very dangerous because of fierce dogs and cross cattle in the mountains; but feeling that God wanted me to go I knew no such thing as fail. After walking some distance I sank down with exhaustion under a big tree and wept out my heart to God for guidance, protection and success. I arose feeling strengthened and comforted and soon came to a farm house and asked a young man who stood in the garden if he could direct me to the prison camp. "Yes, come in, lady, you look so tired and faint and my mother will give you something to eat and we will show you the way," was the kind reply I received. I stopped and rested a while but would neither eat nor drink as I had given myself to fasting and prayer that my way might be opened for services in the camp to which I was going. After a long walk we found the stockade and knowing the young man who was with me, the officers gave their consent for me to hold a service. After I had been singing and talking to the prisoners a while suddenly my strength failed me. I had only time to say, "Will you sing?" Then I saw and heard nothing more. I HAD FALLEN PROSTRATE among those chained prisoners. When I came to myself I heard singing from inside the walls, such singing as could only come from truly broken-hearted, repentant souls. I had been carried outside and the poor prison women were caring for me. A good old colored sister was holding me close to her and pleading with God to restore me. I heard her say, "She's a woman like we is—and she's given her life for us." They were doing all they knew and were crying around me. I said, "Please carry me back into the prison." When they had done so I asked, "How many of you prisoners will kneel with me in prayer and give your hearts to God, take Him as your Savior and start today for heaven? God loves you, Jesus died for you! And if you will come to Him and confess your sins He will save you." Every one knelt before God, and many with prayers and broken sobs cried out their hearts to Him who is not willing that any should perish, but that all should have eternal life. I expect to meet many of them in heaven; for He is able to save to the uttermost all that will come unto God by Him—and able also to keep them from falling.

The following day, traveling from this prison to another stockade, sitting near me in the car was an aged gentleman who on seeing my Bible asked me where I was going. When I had told him, he asked me the nature of my work and how the prisoners were treated in these places; also how I was received by the officials of the prisons generally. Thinking to only entertain a kind old country gentleman, I told him many things which I probably should not have been so free to mention had I known who he was. He asked me many questions about the stockades. I told him that I had never been so cruelly treated as at a camp on the previous day. "Where," he inquired, "Who did such a thing?" In answer to his inquiry I told him who it was. Little did I know that this was God's way of revealing sin.

A MEETING AT DAY DAWN

Reaching the small station at the foot of the mountain; we had to take a box car only large enough for six persons. The old gentleman was one of the passengers also. Going to the house of the captain at the top of the mountain (such a lonely place), he thought it impossible to have a meeting with the men, as he said they were so wicked and unruly, etc., but finally said I might do so at day-break the next morning. He was very careful, saying, "These men are so wicked and cruel that never could a woman stand before them." I wept and prayed most of the night and cried, "Oh God, can you let me fail now?" In those early years of my labor I traveled much alone but later I usually had a sister accompany me, or sometimes a sister and her husband.

Out in the prison yard at break of day I found hundreds of men all ready to go down into the coal mines. I wondered how to gain their attention and make them all hear my voice. I asked to have the men drawn closer together, as they stood in the prison yard. This being done, I sang a hymn. Oh how I do praise God for the gift of song! I forgot my weird surroundings and the rough appearance of the men and their dangerous looks. I saw them as little boys in the old home far away and then as human souls, hurrying into the presence of God and I felt that I stood between them and the Judgment. Conceive, if you can, how this company must have looked to me, bound in companies of perhaps fifty in a "gang," to a long strong chain to which was fastened a number of shorter chains; these short chains being fastened to the men's ankles.

God enabled me to deliver His message and eternity alone will reveal the results of the seed scattered there that morning. After shaking hands with the men I was introduced to the old gentleman whom I had met on the train the day before. To my surprise he proved to be the President of the Board of Prison Inspectors of the state. I saw him no more after that time, but a year later I visited the prison of which I had told him. I saw at the depot a young colored man nicely dressed, but I knew by his clothes that he was one of the prison boys. He had come to get the morning paper for the warden. I walked with him to the prison, and on the way asked him how they all were at the camp. "All so nicely, thank you," he replied. "Who is your captain now?" I asked. "Has there been any change since I was here last year?" "O yes, ma'am, soon after you was here ma'am, just as soon as Massa (meaning the President of the Board) could find a good man to take de place ob de ole captun what treated de men so bad and 'bused you so, he sent him away." "Oh, is that so?" I said. "Yes, an' we's got a good time now to what we had befo' God sent you heah ma'am. He certainly did send you heah ma'am dat time." So I had only suffered these indignities that these abused ones might have better officers and treatment. The new captain received me very kindly and giving me a seat said my breakfast would be ready as soon as the prison women could prepare it for me. Well, surely the Lord had been at work. Such a change all around! We had a grand meeting and much good was accomplished, the captain furnished a buggy to take me to the next camp and bring me back to the depot.

HELPING TO BURY A PRISONER

After visiting the hospital department of a stockade where I had never been before, I saw the guards nailing up a long, apparently heavy, box. I said to them, "What have you in that box?" One replied, "A man—a dead man." Soon after I heard an officer say to a guard, "Send five prisoners to go with me to bury that box." I arose from where I had been praying, and hurried out and asked permission to accompany the men with the box, but was refused—the officer saying they had no guard to spare to assist me up the mountain side. "Oh, just please let me go," I said. "I do not need any one to help me to climb the mountain. Please, won't you let me go?" He then consented, and I did not wait for either bonnet or help; but with my shawl over my head I hurried out after the men bearing the corpse. On we went up the mountain side, until we came to a very steep place, and the poor weak prisoners began to tremble under the heavy burden, along in front of the guard who had his gun in hand. I knew if one should fall, the guard might suppose he was trying to escape from him, and fire at him and kill him.

I took up a stick in my left hand to steady myself and placing my right arm under the end of the box added my strength to that of the tired men. When we reached the summit of the mountain we found the grave already dug, but it was much too short for the box. I was almost exhausted and came near falling. The grave being too short, they were going to leave the corpse until morning and then return and bury it. But I said, "Boys, you dig the grave longer and I will sing for you while you work." I sang an old time hymn, and they lowered the box, by pounding and jumping upon it and then hurriedly shoveled in the dirt. Then I said, "Let us pray." And there in that dreary place I prayed for the poor men who had performed this sad rite and for the guard. I forgot my surroundings. I thought only of "SOME MOTHER'S BOY," who perhaps died with a broken heart without a mother's care, now lying in an unknown grave far away from home. Perhaps she had prayed for him and God had sent me to pray over the lonely grave. There we left him where all his mistakes should be forgotten. He may have sought and found pardon in God. Who can tell? The stars were now shining and the stillness filled me with awe. The men hurried down the mountain side to the prison, leaving me behind in the dim starlight. I found my way to the stockade, but found the door locked and with great difficulty I made them hear me and was admitted. At about nine o'clock the prisoners were brought together to have a meeting. The guard ridiculed. The prisoners wondered at seeing a woman preaching. How I trembled! Oh, for some one to share my burden! I asked, "Is there one Christian here among you prisoners?" as I shook hands with them and some of them pointing out an old colored woman, said, "She's a Christian." I clasped her hand, hardened by work, and said, "Will you pray for me, sister?" "Yes," she said, "Yes, I will, honey."

God was there to touch and tender those hearts. They were unused to meetings of this character, and perhaps had never heard of a woman preaching. I well knew that unless God undertook for me the meeting would be a failure. There seemed to be no way to reach these hard hearts. The men and women stared at me. Suddenly I thought of the great danger I was in, and the risk I had to run in getting back to the village that night. I saw the head of a young prison boy droop over on a man's shoulder, too sleepy to listen longer. Then I heard and saw no more, but fell unconscious to the floor. The weariness from the day's labor proved too much for my strength. But God used my weakness to reach these hearts and when I regained consciousness, men and women with tears, sobs and prayers, were crying to God for mercy and forgiveness—pleading for help to be better men and women. I hope I shall meet many of them in heaven "when the roll is called up yonder" for they truly seemed to bring forth fruit meet for repentance.

The following day was spent among the sick and dying in the village. I had asked the privilege in the morning to go with the train men to the prison pest house where the sick prisoners were, but was refused by the train crew, some of them ridiculing me and my work. I had only kindly asked them the privilege, and then exhorted them to come to Christ. I then told them I feared the next message would be judgment from God. God bless the railroad men if some of them do make mistakes! My heart goes out for them as they are always in much danger. I make it a rule of my life to always pray for every train on which I travel with its crew and passengers. And hitherto God has been my help. Bless His holy name!

WRECK OF A COAL TRAIN

When I had returned to the boarding house in the evening I lay down to rest. Many striking things occurred in this place. As I lay resting, dishes were rattling and children were crying in adjoining rooms, my room door leading into the open hall was standing open, and in came a drove of little pigs. I looked up to see what it was, and one had walked up to the fireplace where was burning a low fire, and stood warming its nose. But they soon grew tired of indoor life and all quickly scampered out as they had come in. They had seemed as much at home there as myself. Amid this confusion I fell asleep. How long I slept I do not know. I was awakened by heart-rending cries from men and women. I sprang up and throwing a shawl over my head, I ran out in the rain to see what I could do to help, for I knew some one was in great agony. What I saw I shall never forget. The coal train and its crew that had gone out in the morning had come in. The engine was ditched in a terrible manner and men were crushed in the wreck. Women were screaming as they ran to see if their loved ones were among the victims. I met the same men I had warned in the morning carrying on a board the fireman badly cut and bruised. I said, "Men, I gave you the warning this morning. You rejected my counsel and I thought judgment would come, but I little thought it would come so soon." They carried the wounded man to an old baggage car. People were so excited they did not know what to do. Here I was to learn a lesson in surgery. I found an old pail and brought some water. Some bystanders gave me their handkerchiefs and I proceeded to wash the blood from the poor wounded head and limb, which was much crushed, and helped the doctor to bind up the wounds. Soon there came a call for help from the scene of the disaster. A messenger came running, saying, "Come quick! there is a man dying whom we found under the engine." It was very dark, but I hurried along through the mud and rain after the doctor to the scene of suffering. They had carried him into the nearest hut, and he was lying upon the floor unconscious. Kneeling beside him I raised his head upon my hand. Consciousness returned. I cried, "Jesus can save you even now; He loves you. He will forgive you now, only believe on Him." He replied, "I do believe He does save me just now." Glory to God! He is a present help in time of need; a friend that sticketh closer than a brother. Dear reader, it is better to be saved before the crash comes. The man was suffering terribly. The women, thinking they must do something, had poured turpentine into the wounds thinking it was camphor. We washed the wounds and I assisted the physician in setting the broken limbs. God wonderfully helped me there to practice what I preached, and I found what it means to love my neighbor as myself. These railroad men were my neighbors, and they were suffering and in a dying condition. One of the poor men cried piteously for his mother. I traveled on the train on which one of the wounded men was taken to the city where his mother lived and helped to care for him on the way. We were delayed at that camp for two days. I will never forget those days of service and suffering.