A R Ammi Ruhamah Bradbury POEM 1863 Lapham Smithville

The following information and transcription is offered by Mary Katherine May of QualityMusicandBooks.com

On September 7, 1863, Reverend Ammi Ruhamah Bradbury presented a poem for the Lapham Institute in North Scituate, Rhode Island, formerly Smithville Seminary. The school was founded by Hiram Brooks, suffered from financial struggles throughout its years of existence, finally closing its doors in 1876 when the last benefactor, William Winsor, ceased to provide financial support.

Rev. Ammi Ruhamah Bradbury (1810-1899) served as a Freewill Baptist minister in Limerick, Maine and other localities. He is noted as being the Secretary of the York County (anti-slavery) Society. (The History of the Antislavery Cause in State and Nation by Austin Willey, 1886)


Extant documents of Rev. Bradbury’s include this poem, another poetic work: Poems on the Thirty-three Miracles of Our Lord, and a detailed diary kept from 1872-1874—now in possession of the American Antiquarian Society.

For seven years Rev. Bradbury’s wife, Mrs. Caroline Livermore J. (Johnson) Bradbury, acted in the capacity of teacher and principal of the Ladies’ Department at Smithville Seminary, as well as after 1863 when the school was renamed Lapham Institute after its benefactor, the Honorable Benedict Lapham. Mrs. Bradbury was also involved with the publication, The Missionary Helper. Caroline L. Bradbury was the third recording secretary of the Freewill Baptist Female Missionary Society, was noted as “a generous worker for India.” The Free Baptist Woman’s Missionary Society 1873-1921. Providence, R.I., 1922, Loose Leaf Manufacturing Company. © 1922 by the Free Baptist Woman’s Missionary Society. Their motto: Faith and Works Win.

I am assuming that this poem was presented at a program on September 7, 1863 in honor of the re-commencement of the school now named Lapham Institute. The poem tells the story of the school from the initial fundraising and beginning through the efforts of Hiram Brooks, when funds ran out and it was to be sold—only to be purchased by one of the teachers, and its new beginning in 1863 after falling into ruin.

At this point in the poem, the reader might wonder about what Bradbury is describing, since it is not completely clear as to the relationship between the decay of the school’s buildings and the Civil War.

Since, a dark, dark night has brooded o’er all,
From wing to wing, embracing Franklin’s hall.
Destruction and decay had spread around,
From room to room, from the roof to the ground,
One would have though old Vulcan had been here
With his Clyclops all sooty and besmeared,
Forging thunder-bolts for Jove, Almighty,
To kill out-right American slavery.
Yes, we aver, a dark night hung o’er all,
Covering the horizon like a pall;
Till one Lapham arose in his full might,
And said, nigh be banished, let there be light;
And so there is light as you all perceive:
And must, yes, you must, verily believe;
The change is great; its appearance astute;
We call it, therefore, Lapham Institute.

The poem closes with reminiscence over the success of the school for men—

As to send forth lawyers and doctors, too;
Professors, authors, and ministers, true;
Governors, senators, and every sort,
Too numerous to mention or be forgot.

As well as how it had benefited women—

Ladies, also, mother, daughter and wife,
Who have strewed with flowers the path of life;
Whose accomplishments, piety and grace
Have shed a luster o’er the female race;
Have qualified them to shine in circles bright,
And soothe the dying pillow with their light.

Ending with a look to the future, including the use of the term, copperheads, a name coined for the “peace democrats,” a group in the northern states who opposed going to war.

What, shall we not hope, we again inquire?
From so wise a board, from so full a corps?
We answer with conscience all bright and clear,
Wise men, qualified to fill every sphere.
Good men, who would grace the President’s chair,
And make up his cabinet rich and rare;
Men, whose voices in all lands may be heard,
Proclaiming the truths of God’s holy word;
Men, scholarly in the house and senate;
Great in counsel, and in true wisdom, great;
Men just on the bench with their ermine bright,
Able to guide the ship of State aright;
Trustful in all station, no copperheads;
Ever ready to strike the rebels dead;
Ready to fulfill the proclamation,
And sweep all the traitors from the nation.
Such and forever may the teachers show,
Are the men, who from this Institute go.

Surnames used: Hiram Brooks, Quinby (Quimby), Weld, Miss Johnson, Baxter, (?William) Winsor—student at Smithville, banker, and Lapham’s last benefactor, Tappan, Mrs. Tappan, Newhall, Wheeler, Mr. Farrar, Miss Perkins (died at the school), Miss Barlet, Mr. Hayes, Mrs. Hayes, Ricker, Morrell, Bradbury.

Places: Angell (?Old Angell Tavern), Brown.

A POEM
by
Rev. A. R. Bradbury, A. M.
Providence, R. I.,
Read at North Scituate, R. I.
September 7, 1863.
Published by Request.
Providence:
A. Crawford Greene, Steam Book Printer.
1863.

PDF File: POEM

Too late in life to climb Parnassus high;
Very well, we can labor, we can try.
Too late you say, to scale Parnassus Mount;
Well, better late than never, we recount.
For some urchins unfledged have tried their skill
And found themselves at the foot of the hill.
For trying they thought they were near the top;
To their great surprise, they found they were not.
To renew their efforts with years of toil
Showed them, they were mounting Parnassus soil.
So much to introduce what may come next,
As ministers say, when they take their text.

In the days gone past, there was a good Brook;*
It ran all ways, into every nook:
It swept o’er the State, and washed gold together
To build these buildings, one after another—
For the sake of learning we were then told;
These efforts were made to collect this gold.
To train the mind, to crystallize the heart
Men will with their money quite freely part.

As the wheat is stored in the granary;
So they called them, Smithville Seminary.

As teachers at first, came Quinby and Weld;
Miss Johnson and Baxter fresh in the field:
All youthful and ardent, resolved to do
Whate’er their hearts, hands and eyes brought to view;
What were given them as talents and grace
Determined they were to spend in this place.
It was theirs to give food to youthful minds
While Winsor below, food of other kinds.

*Rev. Hiram Brooks

Thus prepared, came the students rushing in
From all quarters, even down to old Maine.
To be sure, it was sometimes a motley mess,
With now and then an Angell just to bless.
When he to grace a higher sphere went on,
Even upward to the college called Brown;
Night came on and was loth to pass away
When Providence favored and sent us Day.
Then crowds gathered in to fill up the hall,
With few such men as Tappan and Newhall.

At length, friend Weld, he wished to be excused,
And then in his stead Bradbury they used,
When things went on in the same quiet way,
As summer and winter, as night and day.
For months at a time nothing else was known
But study and study all the day down;
Unless to make sport, some rouges in their rooms
Would rattle about like so many looms;
To keep up the noise and sound an alarm
Down comes a log without doing much harm;
Except the fright and panic it would bring
Throughout the whole school, even to north wing.
Then sprang up the teachers to learn the cause
Why some students were now breaking their laws.
True, one would creep and steal softly around
Till some of the rouges he surely had found.
He must be present everywhere, they said,
Or else he would not catch Tom, Dick, and Ned.

Or, in the north wing, the ladies would dance,
Till you would suppose them all in a trance.
The moment Miss Johnson opened the door
A pin could be heard to fall on the floor.
For hearing her steps, though softly she tread,
They spring in their rooms and plunge into bed;
Mirabile dictu asleep they fall
Before she leaves and returns to the hall.
For there all is hush and still as the grave,
While she stands like one in a silent cave.

Not a whisper is heard, nor a laugh made
Throughout all these rooms as though all were dead.

Or, on Saturday in the afternoon
A charm was spread over the Reading room;
The news was so rich that may would spring
And rush to the Reading room from each wing.
Ladies and gentlemen would hear good news
Long ere the parson, the pulpit or pews.
As there was no war we used to wonder
Why o’er the papers they loved to ponder.
It was dark, all dark as Egypt or night,
Time, the revealer, has brought all to light;
For when we greet them in their quiet home
We then remember the old Reading room.

As years melted away, we were then told,
The whole concern at auction must be sold.
Debts had accrued and Brooks had ceased to run;
Therefore, no gold nor silver could be won.
Some said no, no, if efforts could be made
The sum could be raised, and the debts all paid.
So, briskly at work they tried every name,
They labored and labored, but all in vain.
Weary at last, they gave the matter o’er,
When the whole concern stood as ‘twas before.

Upon a set day, the multitude came;
For the region round was full of its fame;
When the auctioneer cried, “What will you pay,
These buildings may be yours this very day.”
To open the sport, one Wheeler began,
When Quinby followed, the rich prize to win;
Then quickly succeeded, bid after bid,
Till Quinby prevailed and Wheeler outdid.
The property, then, as you would suppose,
Did change its hands, as everybody knows;
So, changed the concern as had Mr. Weld,
When Bradbury and lady left the field.

Then came Mr. Farrar, Miss Perkins, too,--
Both ripe for the field, both faithful and true.
The school opened well, the prospect bid fair,
When all at once clouds gathered in the air;
The angel of death did visit the school,
And summoned Miss Perkins home from her toil.
Though sudden, ah, sudden, as we all know,
She was ready, yes, all ready to go.
To nobler works in the bright world above;
The Savior called her to swell in his love

Then came Miss Bartlet, with purpose of heart
To labor and toil, fulfilling her part,
The board of instruction being now full,
Nothing was wanting throughout the whole school
Throngs flocked in to drink at Castalia’s fount,
And wend their way up to the steep and rough mount.
All young and aspiring, they sped their way,
As term after term quickly fled away;
It was a fresh fountain, whose healthful streams
Fertilized the earth, as do the sun beams.
As a city on high cannot be hid,
So its light and heat all around were shed.
Many, very many youth did rejoice,
That they ever heard instruction’s clear voice;
That they ever drank, aye, drank a supply
From a fountain which will never run dry.

Thus, years glided by with the same routine
Of teaching and learning with nothing between,
Except what is common in classic halls,
In which youth assemble at wisdom’s calls.
Now and then a teacher would leave, to find
A field of toil more suited to his mind;
When another, fresh from the schools would come,
Determined to work and make this his home;
Determined to impart to the youth around,
Instruction and wisdom both true and sound;
To elevate them and cause them to rise
Above the low objects which meet their eyes.

The owner, himself, had resolved to bear
More burdens than any other one here.
Teacher and steward he had years combined;
Fixed to make the school the best of its kind,
With unswerving fidelity and care
The rising generation to prepare
For the responsibilities of life
In this sin-ruined world of war and strife.

Fatigued with its burdens and needing rest
He resolved to sell it as might be best:
For a score of years he had borne the heat,
Without seeking a single year’s retreat;
A chance soon occurred, which suited him well,
Upon which he made a bargain to sell.

The purchaser opened so fair and bright,
Many said there would now be no more night.
The sun shone; and all prospered very well,
Till one, like Joshua, said, stand thou still.

Since, a dark, dark night has brooded o’er all,
From wing to wing, embracing Franklin’s hall.
Destruction and decay had spread around,
From room to room, from the roof to the ground,
One would have though old Vulcan had been here
With his Clyclops all sooty and besmeared,
Forging thunder-bolts for Jove, Almighty,
To kill out-right American slavery.
Yes, we aver, a dark night hung o’er all,
Covering the horizon like a pall;
Till one Lapham arose in his full might,
And said, nigh be banished, let there be light;
And so there is light as you all perceive:
And must, yes, you must, verily believe;
The change is great; its appearance astute;
We call it, therefore, Lapham Institute.
Henceforth, always, to bear the donor’s name,
And so let all the people shout, Amen.

If, under the dispensation now gone,
So much has been wrought and so much good done,
As to send forth lawyers and doctors, too;
Professors, authors, and ministers, true;
Governors, senators, and every sort,
Too numerous to mention or be forgot.
Ladies, also, mother, daughter and wife,
Who have strewed with flowers the path of life;
Whose accomplishments, piety and grace
Have shed a luster o’er the female race;
Have qualified them to shine in circles bright,
And soothe the dying pillow with their light.
What shall we not expect with this new reign,
As to-day we open this school again;
With teachers, Mr. Hayes, Ricker, Morrell,
Mrs. Hayes, Mrs. Tappan, rich in skill;
Ripe in culture and versed in learned lore,
Which for years has been gathering in store?
What, shall we not hope, we again inquire?
From so wise a board, from so full a corps?
We answer with conscience all bright and clear,
Wise men, qualified to fill every sphere.
Good men, who would grace the President’s chair,
And make up his cabinet rich and rare;
Men, whose voices in all lands may be heard,
Proclaiming the truths of God’s holy word;
Men, scholarly in the house and senate;
Great in counsel, and in true wisdom, great;
Men just on the bench with their ermine bright,
Able to guide the ship of State aright;
Trustful in all station, no copperheads;
Ever ready to strike the rebels dead;
Ready to fulfill the proclamation,
And sweep all the traitors from the nation.
Such and forever may the teachers show,
Are the men, who from this Institute go.

Another Civil War era document blog by Mary Katherine May: Abe Lincoln
Transcribed by Mary Katherine May of www.QualityMusicandBooks.com, Minneapolis MN.