The Hospital of the Good Shepherd, a Mission of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the district of Arizona, which thirty years later was to become "the Good Shepherd Mission to the Navajo", had its actual inception on the great Navajo reservation in 1894. Several events, however, led up to this 'inception', and we may also go back even further and find its roots in two great humane and spiritually-directed institutions, and in the inspired personalities of those who were their life. One of these institutions, although semi-political in its framework, was none the less completely benevolent in its purpose; the other, manifestly religious in purpose, was none the less practical in its methods and most efficient in what it sought to accomplish.

These institutions were: "the Indian Rights Association" and "the Westchester, N. Y. Branch of the Woman's Auxiliary to the Board of Missions of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the U. S. A." The 'personality' behind the first was Mr. Herbert Welsh, and the 'personalities' behind and in and through the second were the Misses Jay, Miss Fanny Schuyler, and their associates and successors.

Herbert Welsh and the Indian Rights Association

Herbert Welsh, publicist, humanitarian, artist, was born in Philadelphia December 4, 1851. He was one of the early pioneers to espouse the cause of the Indian, at a time when that 'cause' was most unpopular. The Indian was not supposed to have any 'rights'. But in spite of this, Herbert Welsh kept on and his interest was more deeply aroused by a visit to Bishop William Hobart Hare of the Sioux country of South Dakota in 1882. With Mr. Welsh went his friend Henry S. Pancoast, a lawyer. At just this time word had come from Washington that a scheme was on foot to confiscate about eleven million acres of land in the 'great Sioux reserve', without the consent of the Indians. Naturally the Sioux were greatly aroused, but fortunately, and we may truly say 'providentially', under intelligent and sympathetic Missionary influence and guidance, many of these people had already become Christians, having "made progress on the 'Jesus road'". Bishop Hare was indeed their friend and spiritual advisor and he suggested that the Indians consult two young men, friends of his, one of whom was a lawyer. This they did, and when these young lawyers returned to Philadelphia, they began to spread information about the situation, and to seek the best methods of producing such public feeling and congressional action as would secure to our Indian population in general civil rights and education . . . . And in time would bring about the complete civilization of the Indians and their admission to citizenship. This was a long look ahead, but in the meantime, as a result of their efforts . . . . These two young lawyers, Herbert Welsh and Henry Pancoast, undertook the organization of "the Indian Rights Association", a non-sectarian, non-partisan organization, to be supported by voluntary contributions of friends. (Adapted from publications of the "I. R. A.")

As our story of the Good Shepherd Mission unfolds, we shall be able to realize the value and far-reaching importance of Mr. Welsh's activities, not only for the association as a whole, but especially for the beginnings and early development of our Mission. His entire career runs in a contemporaneous line with the first thirty years of our work at Fort Defiance.

[2] The Westchester Branch of the "Woman's Auxiliary"

This organization is one of the outstanding Missionary societies of modern times, at least in this country. Created by act of the General Convention in Baltimore in 1871, and under the manifest guidance of god, it has been increasingly one of the mightiest channels of spiritual dynamic in the church today. The influence of this society, and its power, have been especially expressed in the personality of many of its leaders. From the three sisters Emery onward, the light of individual Christian lives has shone forth in the work of the national society, and the same thing has been true in the experience of many diocesan, county and parochial branches of this living organism of Christian service. Among these witnessing leaders the churchwomen in and about New York City have been most active in their Missionary interest. So it happened that on a memorable day in the year 1888, a meeting was held at the residence of Mrs. John C. Jay in New York. Miss Cornelia Jay presided, assisted by Miss Fanny Schuyler. It was then resolved to inaugurate the work of the "Woman's Auxiliary" in the parishes of Westchester County, the association to be known as the "Westchester Branch of the Woman's Auxiliary to the Board of Missions". Delegates were present from the parishes of Rye, Rochelle, Port Chester, Westchester, White Plains, St. John's and St. Paul's Yonkers, Irvington, Pelham, St. Paul's Sing Sing, Mount Cisco, Scarsdale, St. Mark's Tarrytown, Pelhamville, Wilmot and Montrose. A board of managers was elected, among the members being Miss Schuyler. Miss Cornelia Jay was continued as president, or "chairman". The first "county" meeting was held at Rye, a large number of delegates attending. Archdeacon Van Kleeck was asked to preside, and many clergy were present to represent "home missions". It was evident from the start that this group was to be especially interested in Indian Missions. The fact that Miss Schuyler was a personal friend of Mr. Herbert Welsh may have had something to do with this.

The contribution of "personality" to the efforts of this great organization of "the Woman's Auxiliary" was to be continuously manifested in the almost "apostolic succession" of the chairmen of the Westchester branch; here is the line--(not quite up to date):

Miss Cornelia Jay
Miss Fanny Schuyler
Mrs. Samuel Thorne
Miss Janet Waring
Mrs. Wright B. Haff
Miss Laura Boyer
Mrs. C. Helme Strater

(The above account of the "W. A." is adapted from a letter or report by Miss Fanny Schuyler, as chairman of the Westchester Archdeaconry Committee, October, 1908)

_________

CHAPTER I

THE BEGINNINGS--"GRASS ROOTS"

The Rt. Rev. George Kelly Dunlop was practically the pioneer Bishop of the great jurisdiction of the Episcopal Church which included Arizona and New Mexico. He served from 1880 to 1888, and was succeeded by the rugged and devout saint of God, the Rt. Rev. John Mills Kendrick. Born in Ohio in 1836, he was educated in New York and intended to become a lawyer. But at the outbreak of the civil war, responding to his country's call, he did not hesitate to enlist, and joined General Nelson's division, soon becoming a first lieutenant and afterwards serving on Nelson's staff. His army career was brief but filled with activity and excitement until he was made a prisoner of war just before the conflict ended. The war being over he decided to study for the ministry of his church and, returning to Ohio, he entered Bexley Hall, the divinity school of Kenyon College in Gambier. After graduation and ordination he served for a number of active years in Ohio, and at one time was the General Missionary of the diocese. It was while he was in temporary charge of Trinity Church in Columbus, which expected to call him regularly as rector that he was elected Bishop of New Mexico and Arizona by the General Convention of 1888, and was consecrated in January of 1889 in the church he had just been serving. He said at the time that he would have to look up his new field on the map to see exactly where it was! He was not long in becoming decidedly familiar with the whole region, and built for himself a wonderful career as a pioneering Missionary and a veritable "father in God".

Seven months after his consecration the new Bishop presided over his first district Convocation, which met at Santa Fe on September 3 and 4, 1889. In the course of his address he said, "the Indian problem has presented itself most distinctly, and has been most carefully considered. There seems to be an opportunity to do something in this direction, but the matter is not yet right for exploitation. For the present I must sit with closed doors on this subject". This was a somewhat mysterious statement and it is not quite evident what he meant by it. The most probable solution would seem to be that he wished to wait until he had personally visited the Indian country and could secure firsthand information to impart. The opportunity to do this came very soon when he did make a visit to Fort Defiance, the agency of the Navajo reservation, taking with him the Rev. Henry Forrester, who had recently come to Albuquerque, N. M. from Colorado. It was their first visit, in fact the first of several that these two ardent Missionaries made together in the Indian field. They were most cordially received by the agent, a Mr. Vandever, and his staff, and on that very evening they held a service in the government school, attended by the teachers and other white employees. It is more than likely that at least a few Indians were present, for he reports having a conversation with some of them, by the help of an interpreter. On leaving, the Bishop was earnestly urged to come again, and he promised to do so.

And now two familiar characters make their entrance on the stage of the drama that is unfolding before us. Mr. Herbert Welsh of the Indian Rights Association, who had recently made several excursions into the far-flung Indian country of the "great west", writes to his friend, Miss Fanny Schuyler and says that he is soon to start for the Navajo reservation about the 20th of April, 1890. Again on May 31st he writes to her and tells her about this most interesting and successful visit among the Navajos, which had included a three hundred mile trek on horseback. Moreover, he is preparing to make several addresses about his trip, and adds, "I have many things to talk to you about when we meet. I can only say now that I am more than ever impressed with the great needs of these people." The needs he refers to are evidently those of a moral and religious nature, for Mr. Welsh was a "churchman" and a real Missionary at heart. So it was that during the next twelve months things began to happen, and in cooperation with Bishop Kendrick plans were made to inaugurate definite Indian Mission work.

These plans were a bit slow in developing, as we shall see. The Bishop in his second address before Convocation, which was held October 1, 1890, referred to his visit to Fort Defiance the year before and added that he expected to make another visit immediately after this Convocation. However, the pressure of his duties in his vast field prevented his making the intended trip, for at Convocation a year later, [3/4] in September, 1891, he made no report of such a visit but did say, "I am in hopes that some Indian work will soon come to us in a practical shape". Meantime Mr. Welsh had written to Miss Schuyler under date of June 19, 1891, and had said, "I will go to work shortly to find a man for the Navajo Mission work." It seems that plans were being perfected by the Indian Service for re-organizing the government school at Fort Defiance, and the Bishop and Mr. Welsh had planned together to conduct Mission work in connection with the school. There was some delay in the plan as a whole because of a counter proposition of opening up work at Keem's Canyon among both the Navajo and the "Moqui" people, there being already at that place a well established government school and the possibility of securing land and putting up a house for a Missionary, if one could be found. This project, however, was not carried out, or we might never have had a "Hospital of the Good Shepherd", at least not at Fort Defiance, and the original plan was continued, to begin as soon as the right man could be secured. It was Bishop Kendrick who found this man. He was a Mr. George H. Wadleigh, a former real estate man of Los Angeles, who was at the time employed by the Presbyterian Church at their Indian school near Tucson, although he himself was an Episcopalian. The Superintendent of this school, the Rev. Mr. Billman, recommended Mr. Wadleigh as faithful, reliable, of good business habits and interested in the Indians; a man of character and decision and fitted to be the head of a school, and who "would not lose his grip." Excellent recommendations were also received from other sources. The selection was put up by the Bishop to both Mr. Welsh and Miss Schuyler, and although another man was also being considered, it was decided to invite Mr. Wadleigh to come, more or less on trial, as it seems.

In this appointment there was an apparently happy co-ordination between the Bishop and Mr. Welsh and Miss Schuyler on the one hand, and the government on the other, as represented by the Commissioner of Indian Affairs. By this it was agreed that Mr. Wadleigh was to have a dual position and responsibility, that is as Superintendent of the government school and as Missionary of the Episcopal Church, and to this position he was appointed. He arrived at Fort Defiance in the early spring of 1892, and began at once his work at the school before he attempted Missionary activity. Bishop Kendrick in a letter to Mr. Welsh written on May 11th explained Mr. Wadleigh's position, which appeared to be a bit uncertain. He said, "the situation as to Mr. Wadleigh would seem to be this then: the (Indian) department needed a teacher at Fort Defiance, and as they were not ready for us, they sent Mr. Wadleigh to the school at the agency. While it is true that Mr. Wadleigh has no connection with us at present, he is gaining knowledge and experience that will be useful to us after a while." There appear to have been, however, some difficulties and complications about government work among the Indians, which only the Indian Commissioner fully understood, and furthermore, there was a lingering apprehension that a combination of the government and the church in such matters had not proven any too successful in other places. In fact, in the letter of the Bishop to Mr. Welsh just quoted, he continues: "Dr. Dorchester (the Superintendent of Indian education) says that Bishop Hare in South Dakota is drawing out of relations with the government as fast as possible, and the Methodists are doing the same. But perhaps we better work with the government till a change of administration upsets our plans."

Meantime Mr. Wadleigh, who seemed to know how to make effective approaches to the Indians in his teaching, which might later be applied to Missionary work, wrote to Bishop Kendrick asking for a stereoptican, which would cost about fifty dollars. After considerable discussion with others on the subject, the Bishop was able to comply with Mr. Wadleigh's request and secured the money for the lantern. Soon after, in June (1892), he made a memorable visit to the government school and held a service, preached, baptized a child and celebrated the Holy Communion. In his congregation he had most of the white people of the agency beside boys and girls of the school and some of the older Indians. Among the ten who received the Holy Communion were six communicants of the Episcopal Church. In the afternoon he spoke to the children, whom Mr. Wadleigh had organized into a Sunday school. Speaking about this visit later, the Bishop said: "it was pleasant to find so many church people here: Mr. Wadleigh, the Superintendent, Mrs. Wadleigh, Miss Egan (a nurse), and Miss Des Brisay." Inspired by this occasion, he wrote to some of the Westchester ladies, who had been hoping to do something definite in a Missionary way among the Navajos, and urged them to take up this school, adding, "there is much that is needed for the efficiency of this school that the government does not supply." How true these words of the Bishop were, and how prophetic, was to be revealed many times in the experience of "the Hospital of the Good Shepherd" soon to be [4/5] born. With all due respect for our Indian department and its educational progress today, and with all due appreciation of the present excellence of our government schools, it is still evident that "there is much that is needed that the government does not (and can not) supply." And this is just what the church has supplied in its various branches to a great degree, although by no means perfectly. In the various Mission schools and similar organizations the home touch, and even more the spiritual touch, do make a difference in the lives of Indian children who come under their influence; and this is notably true in our work on the Navajo reservation. Comparing groups of government school children with similar goups of Mission children; this difference is evident in their faces and in their general manner and appearance.

Now to continue our story: Mr. Wadleigh entered into his new activities with enthusiasm and apparent understanding, although, he was well aware of the difficulties to be encountered. Writing to Bishop Kendrick under date of Sept. 25, 1892, he says: "I see that here is the place for the church work to be done, supplemental to the government work, but aiding and forwarding that work; while the government authority supporting the school gives position and authority that is very essential; the evident desire of the Indian office to help the school, the interest it exhibits in the Navajos, and its willingness to further all my plans, provided they don't call for too much money--these things encourage me. The (our) work is all extra and independent of the government, and for the purchase of necessary material we will rely on outside aid." He then speaks with characteristic enthusiasm of Miss Egan, (a communicant of the church mentioned above), whom the government had secured as a teacher, and who had come from Pine Ridge, S. D. Then he goes on to express the need of a male employee as a 'disciplinarian', especially to control the boys when outside the class room. He says that the government cannot at present supply such an official, great as is the need of one, but "it is possible the ladies of Westchester Co. may want to send this man to us." Continuing, he mentions a somewhat different suggestion as to these ladies, which is that they send a medical Missionary for which he says the work is not ready. Still he realizes that it would be a good thing to have such a Missionary, if the Westchester people would pay his salary. This suggestion was not carried out, but it was prophetic of the greater work of a regular hospital which was to come in the near future.

Mr. Wadleigh shows his constructive, forward-looking ideas when he says in this same letter that he is planning to introduce at the school improved methods of carding and spinning the wool for the rug making "as calculating to interest and help these Indians and as a most promising way of aiding us in acquiring an influence over them." He adds that Dr. Dorchester thinks favorably of the plan. It is safe to say that however admirable it might have appeared, the plan could never have been carried out in that day and generation. To separate a Navajo woman from her hand-methods of preparing her wool would soon have been found most undesirable, if not quite inconceivable. Another plan he was hoping to carry out, and did carry out to a certain extent, was to find time and opportunity for visiting the natives in their own hogans, an excellent idea in itself; but if he hoped by this method to "cultivate them, encourage them to better ways of living, and to lessen by familiar contact their prejudice against the school." He would soon find that it would be a slow process. In fact he had much to learn about these people, and he did learn a good deal, for in a letter to Miss Schuyler of July 27th, He says: "the parents are adverse to sending their children to the school, and the constant record of change and failure (at the agency) has furnished them the best reasons and arguments for their prejudice. But Indians intuitively seem to measure our sincerity, and so long as we are true to God and our duty as it is made plain, they'll know it and will trust us; and they finally make the truest friends. The Navajos are very bright, but are harder than some to reach because they are very self-reliant and not given to new things." All this is still quite true and, as has often been said: "you can't hurry an Indian." This is especially true of the Navajo; that is in matters that require the use of intelligence, for he likes to think for himself. Missionaries have found this to be true time and time again, and if they try to hurry the Navajo's conversion to Christianity, or take too much for granted as to his accepting the "Jesus way" of life, they are doomed to disappointment. But as Mr. Wadleigh says, "they do measure our sincerity as well as the consistency of our lives as Christians, and when they find that they can trust us we shall have made progress in our endeavors." We shall find ample evidence of this as our story unfolds. Going back again to this letter to Miss Schuyler, we read that he mentions a line of approach already briefly suggested: "a great defect of the government schools, to go back to my hobby, lies in their failure to do anything for the grown up Indians. Their work doesn't reach out [5/6] far enough to include the parents. As a method of reaching the adults, we shall start in the fall a sewing society among the Indian women."

And now there appears on the scene a new character, "Zona", an unusual child discovered among the pupils of the school whose personality wins the interest and affection of various leaders of the Mission-which-is-to-be, and in our story will appear 'on stage' and then 'off stage', exciting our hopes as to her future. So let us continue:

As it happened, Zona's grandmother, "Old Charity", herself quite 'a character' did not wholly approve of the school or of the purpose of the authorities to give the child the advantages of higher education. Moreover, the old lady must have had considerable to do with a certain slight uprising of the parents of the school children, who were not a bit cooperative with the 'powers that be', for in this same oft-quoted letter of Mr. Wadleigh he goes on to say: "Mrs. Wadleigh has written you about Zona . . . Finally we detained Zona at the school some days when her grandmother wanted her, and at last when they had quieted somewhat, I talked earnestly to them all, Old Charity had to give up and allow Z. to remain here during her vacation. Now we are trying to get together a small class, including Z., to go away, most likely to Haskell Institute, in the fall. Zona has an unusually good mind, and being a full-blooded Navajo, if we can save her from her friends, and from herself, for a few years, she may become a Missionary of great good among her own people."

At this time there had been troubles also in the official family. Agent Vandever, who had been appointed in 1888, and had been such a good friend of the Bishop and had cooperated so happily in the new project, was retired and was succeeded by Mr. Dana Shipley. He was distincly not a success and soon got into trouble over an unwise and untactful attempt to enforce the compulsory school act. A brawl ensued with "Black Horse", a new headman, in which the agent was seriously injured. This occurred near Round Rock store and involved such well-known characters as Chee Dodge, and the traders Charley Hubbell and Arthur Hardy. Following this incident came a second attack and a warning from the Navajos. Shipley wisely resigned and left the reservation. This happened in the fall of 1892, but was followed by much happier days for all in the appointment of Lieut. Edwin H. Plummer of the 10th U. S. Infantry, as acting agent, and soon after as actual agent. He was a man of fine education and fortunately of independent means. From the start he took an intelligent and humane interest in the Navajos, whom he governed with a firm but persuasive discipline.

Following Mr. Wadleigh's career rather closely for the present and his apparently good ideas, he certainly seems to have had plenty of enthusiasm for his work. This was of course commendable and doubtless indicated a natural characteristic trait of the man himself. However, the writer of this story, having had a fairly wide acquaintance with Missionaries among the Navajo for a number of years, will have to record that he has seen that this trait of enthusiasm has characterized most Missionaries when they come to live in the great altitude of the Navajo reservation. However, after awhile, the effects of the altitude are liable to produce a nervous condition which reacts into instability or even serious depression. We may have occasion to observe this as we proceed with our story.

Mr. Wadleigh must have had no little musical ability, and perhaps some experience in training choirs, for he had remarkable things to report along this line in connection with the church services he had instituted at the school. Within the first six months he was able to report (Sept. 19, 1892): "Sunday mornings we have our full church service with a short sermon. In a short time the children will be able to join in singing the chants and anthems. This I am very anxious for, as then they will feel themselves a part of the service, and it will become so much more to them." He certainly was right in this idea; the marvel is that he could accomplish so much in the singing, and shows what great pains he took with the little Navajos, and how great must have been his patience. It was at about this time that he asked for more prayer books, saying that "nearly every boy will sing in a short time." A boy choir was certainly a novelty in an Indian Mission field, but one wonders why he did not have girls too in his choir as is done so generally now.

In the meantime, in spite of all these encouraging reports of progress, the question very naturally arose among the supporters of this work, who lived in the far east, [6/7] as to whether in his dual role of government official and Missionary the work might not be considered as secular rather than religious. Even his good friend and stand-by, Miss Schuyler, in a letter received at this time, in reference to the Missionary work for which the "W.A." was organized by the church, had spoken of this particular work as "secular". This disturbed Mr. Wadleigh keenly and in his reply, he said: "not so, but as thoroughly a Missionary work and labor for the master as ever can be done. It is perfectly practical, however, with no poetry about it. If I had a dozen pairs of hands and strength to use them, they could all be employed in doing the master's work, in helping these people to live a few steps higher up than their fathers have lived." But it becomes evident that he had yet much to learn about these interesting and quite independently-minded people, as the following experience shows! In the letter referred to above, he asks Miss Schuyler for a Christmas box, and among the things expecially asked for as greatly needed was "neck-wear, something like a windsor scarf . . . made of either old silk or any neat wash fabric, athough like all Indians, bright colors are favorites. Now they have only an occasional red bandanna handkerchief which they tie around their necks, and the effect is villanous, nor is it good for their health." But later on, in acknowledging the Christmas box, which had evidently been prepared according to his specifications, he has to admit that the windsor ties, (also some napkins which he had asked for), were not well received by the children, and that the boys still preferred to wear their (villanous looking) bandannas around their necks. However the girls were "wild over their dolls." Yes, he was learning! And admitted that he would have to go "step by step". It may be that he had found the Navajo to be somewhat different from the Papago and Pima Indians with whom he had been in contact at Tucson, as he has indicated before. At any rate, he was now learning by experience that you cannot uproot former in-bred notions or tastes by a mere wave of the hand, or word of the mouth, even if these tastes be only a preference for 'red bandannas'. And this we can see more distinctly in his complete failure to substitute mechanical devices for the traditional methods of preparing and spinning the wool by hand, which certainly required skill and deftness. Perhaps it was fortunate that he did not succeed in this at that time, for even today, after more than half a century, it is becoming difficult to introduce a radical change of this kind.

Let us for a moment in our imagination suppose that such a change were possible. The individual woman would hardly be able or willing to assume the necessary cost of the mechanical device, and it would become necessary for several of them, representing different homes, to club together to pay for and use the outfit. This, at least at the start, would be difficult because of the isolation of the family groups and thus the difficulty of the women getting together. Of course, if this could be done, it might be considered a good thing and quite in the line of progress, as an example of cooperation and 'community spirit'. But it might well do exactly the opposite and produce misunderstandings and serious quarrels. But let us suppose that these difficulties were overcome and the project were instituted, expecially now that the government has at last begun to help the whole tribe financially and in other ways, would it not in time (taking a long look ahead) result in further efforts on the part of their superior white advisors to introduce machine looms, and these doubtless on a cooperative basis, and all such 'progressive' plans? And then what would become of the artist soul of the individual woman who--as for long ages past--has beheld in her brain the design which she now works out on her primitive loom with marvelous inspiration and skill, weaving her very soul into her work before her, as she creates a masterpiece of native art! Thus would not the development of mechanical production be the death of art on the reservation, and the stifling of the soul of every Navajo woman who gave herself up to it!

There are now, however, opportunities of progressive cooperation along other lines which are being developed, and the cooperation and practical assistance which the government is now putting into effect will open up new phases of life--interest which will be of great benefit to the tribe as a whole as well as to the wider community of the state. And these things will not interfere with the native art-inspiration which is the life and soul of the rug-maker sitting at her primitive loom.

Wadleigh's very laudable desire to have more time to go about among the Indians in their own homes and neighborhoods was to be fulfilled. It involved the appointment of a special assistant, a "disciplinarian", to look after the boys of the school; he had asked for such an appointment and his request was finally granted. This official appointee was one of "Bishop Hare's boys", a Dakota Indian, an Episcopalian, and a [7/8] graduate of Haskell Institute; his name was Jeffrey Goulette, and he would receive a salary of fifty dollars a month. Now Mr. Wadleigh could visit the Indians and try to overcome their unwillingness to send their children to the school, a tendency that caused much trouble to the authorities, although today nearly overcome. The Navajos of the western part of the reservation had been disturbed by a conflict on the part of some of their tribesmen, together with the Hopis, against certain Mormon settlers who had pre-empted the land at Tuba, definitely encroaching on lawful Indian property. The difficulty was soon settled but it had given quite a 'story' to the newspapers of the west, which did not minimize the difficulty. It really did not amount to much, but the consequent restlessness among the natives may have made more difficult Wadleigh's efforts of visiting them to overcome their prejudices against the school, and it very likely caused the government officials to hold Wadleigh back somewhat, and to be less cooperative with him in his projects. This in turn would naturally be reflected in his sensitive feelings and perhaps made him a bit difficult to get along with. In addition to all this a neighboring Methodist Missionary was trying his best to 'horn in' and to take away the Sunday morning service, which was so well supported by the government people and satisfied the school children, who were learning more and more of the prayer book service. Whatever all the facts may have been, Mr. Wadleigh's feelings were poured out to Miss Schuyler in the letter mentioned above, as he goes on to say, "I get so discouraged at times. So much is to be done, and the time is so short. At best we can only start them in a better way, leaving the future in his hands. The very hardest thing seems to be to get along with my civilized neighbors. This tries me . . . I am afraid my sympathy all goes out towards the Indians! Perhaps this may become a bonded school, which would give me greater authority, and possibly I may leave. When I am sure I am not to be allowed to control the character of my employees or the work done, then self-respect would not let me remain."

This was in January, 1893, and his letter to Miss Schuyler is the last word that the writer of this history has been able to find from or about Mr. Wadleigh. All we know is that he did resign, as did, of course, his wife, who had held some official position under him. Further details we do not know.

And now begins a more happy chapter, as there appears on the scene for the first time, (in 1893), a character who might be called the life and soul of the "Hospital of the Good Shepherd" which was to be; a matron and teacher of the Fort Defiance government school who was appointed acting Superintendent. This was Miss Eliza W. Thackara, who had come to the school from Florida, a genuine "southerner", in the best sense of the word, and a devout Episcopalian, her father being a clergyman of the church. As to her immediate activities, there is not much to record here, but it seems certain that she did her part in carrying on the services and teachings inaugurated by Mr. Wadleigh, whose earnest efforts to break down the opposition of the Indians to the school and his endeavors to bring in more children from near and far, were to bear fruit in a project of the agent, Lieut. Plummer. He was keen to see that the opposition of the Navajos was not entirely their fault. A letter of his, written later, reveals this attitude, for he said: "the Indians feel themselves superior to 'Americans' in every way, because the only whites they have seen are a few settlers scattered along the frontier . . . And those of the very worst type." The project he had in mind which he hoped would tend to dispel the unfortunate ideas of the Indians about the school and about the white man in general, was expressed in a letter to Mr. Herbert Welsh dated May 23, 1893, just as the great Chicago World's Fair was opening. In this letter he unfolded his plan, which was to select a large group of the most conservative Navajos, a car-load of them, in fact, and to take them on a pilgrimage to the east where they might visit a few large government boarding and day schools to see how they were conducted; and especially to note the spirit of cooperation that prevailed within them, and how well these schools were being supported and encouraged by the Indian people. And then he would take them to visit Chicago and the great exposition and perhaps other places where they might see the white man at his best, and form a better opinion of him than they had had of the worthless specimens on the edges of the reservation. All this Lieut. Plummer believed would change the point of view of the Navajo and overcome his opposition to the white man's ways, and thus forestall and prevent the serious trouble and possible uprising on the part of many of the tribe, which otherwise seemed inevitable. The expense of such a trip would doubtless be considerable, and Lieut. Plummer was wondering if the Indian Rights Association would not help to meet this expense. Mr. Welsh, as we might expect, was at once deeply interested in the project, but first laid the matter before the Indian department of the government, which approved of the plan but stated that there [8/9] were no funds available to carry it out! Accordingly, at the suggestion of Lieut. Plummer, Mr. Welsh wrote to Miss Schuyler and told her the whole story, appealing to the Westchester branch for their help. He expressed his conviction that the project would open the eyes of the Indians and perhaps pave the way for further Missionary work, adding that he thought that from five to six hundred dollars would be sufficient. Miss Schuyler quickly responded, expressing her personal approval. Her letter brought an immediate reply from Mr. Welsh with added arguments in favor of the plan, although admitting that it might cost as much as seven hundred dollars of which he had already a hundred dollars promised. He further stated that the government had put the whole project into the hands of the Indian Rights Association.

The Westchester branch did not hesitate long in giving its approval, and Miss Cornelia Jay sent a check; whether this was an official offering of the branch or her own personal gift is not clear. Thus the project developed rapidly under the leadership of Mr. Welsh, who continued to solicit subscriptions from personal friends, including the Rev. Dr. Tomkins, rector of St. James' Church, Chicago, who expressed his hope of arranging things "so the Navajos can see the Christian and humane side of our civilization." It was a part of the plan to have Lieut. Plummer take personal charge of the expedition, and he had hoped to do so, but finding that he could not well leave his post at Fort Defiance, he decided to send his clerk, Mr. La Tourette, whose father was a chaplain in the U. S. Army. This was a happy choice and indicated the agent's desire to keep in touch with the church authorities, and to make sure of their cooperation. So it was that he wrote to Bishop Kendrick and laid before him the whole project, telling him of his own suggestion to Mr. Welsh to solicit the help of the Westchester ladies, and reporting that Welsh had secured seven hundred dollars, but admitting that he feared that this would be only half enough to carry out the project! The Bishop, with true Missionary spirit, based upon definite practical experience and deep spiritual faith, at once approved of the scheme and promised one hundred dollars towards its execution. The lieutenant quickly and gratefully responding, produced new and most convincing evidence of his confidence by quoting a Navajo woman who had already been to the fair and had just written to her daughter at the school urging her to study hard, because she herself had seen at the fair the benefit of being able to understand english, which she still understood imperfectly. Meantime the Bishop's check had been received and in acknowledging it, the lieutenant added that the Navajo party would leave Gallup on October 13th, in charge of Mr. La Tourette.

The expedition proved to be a great success and confirmed the wisdom of the plan, unusual and unprecedented although it had been. It had indeed been a remarkable experience and well justified, for when it was all over and everyone had returned safe and happy, Lieut. Plummer was able to write to Bishop Kendrick (Nov. 17, 1895), that "the trip was already bearing fruit, for children were being brought to the school and the Indians had been heard to say that they were going to fill the school!" And this success was further attested when the lieutenant wrote to Mr. Welsh the following February, 1894, saying: "We have now 140 children in the Navajo boarding school at this agency, being a very much larger attendance than ever before . . . I believe that the Chicago trip had a great deal to do with the number of children. When I returned from Chicago there were only sixty odd in the school. Since then they have been coming right along and are still coming . . . All have been brought in voluntarily, and not by a policeman or by force of any kind. Four of the Chicago group have gathered up a party of children and brought them in." He then went on to express his wish to make the school useful and attractive "now that the people are in this frame of mind." All of this goes to show the actual benefit the plan was to the school and to the general attitude of the Indians towards the white men, as well as towards the government, in its treatment of the Navajo. But how much it set forward the Missionary work of the church was not made so clear, although it surely had, at least indirectly, a beneficial effect. And it indicates the opportunity and responsibility of the church in going along with the government in its efforts, especially at that time, not only to restore to the Navajo his lawful rights, but to lift him up to higher levels of opportunity and development.

All this may seem to be a rather long digression from our "story", but the events above recorded really led up to, and prepared for the timely establishing of "the Hospital of the Good Shepherd" as we shall now see. So let us return in our narrative to the autumn of 1892 when Mr. Wadleigh was at the peak of his brief but effective career, and agent Vandever had just retired, soon to be followed by Lieut. Plummer, [9/10] (after a short regime of Mr. Shipley). At this very time interesting events were transpiring in the church at large. The general convention meeting in Baltimore early in October, officially separated Arizona from New Mexico, as a matter of Missionary expediency as well as for the greater efficiency of administration. Bishop Kendrick, however, was to keep both jurisdictions under his care. We have already noted the principal events that took place on the Navajo reservation, and particularly at and near Fort Defiance, during the fall of 1892 and the greater part of 1893. In June of this year Bishop Kendrick visited the fort, but it could hardly have been a very significant visit, or one that impressed him any too favorably as to our church's Missionary efforts, coming as it did a few months after Mr. Wadleigh's departure, but it set the Bishop to thinking over the whole situation and weighing the results, or the lack of results, over against the opportunities. It did not, however, prevent his taking a great interest in agent Plummer's Chicago plan, as was shown by his ready and generous gifts for the project. In fact the apparent failure of the church's efforts may have made him all the more willing to assist any endeavor that would tend to smooth over the difficulties between the Indians and the whites. All this is suggested in his address before the Convocation of Arizona which met in Phoenix in October. (Oct. 23-25, 1893). This was the "primary Convocation" of the newly separated and independent District of Arizona. In his address, he said:

"Nothing of permanent nature has been accomplished among the Navajo Indians in Arizona and New Mexico. Some assistance has been given to the government school at Fort Defiance. But the plans in which we have been working have proved impracticable. It has been necessary to learn by experience. I think I know more than I did. No Mission work has ever been done among these Indians, and it is difficult to make a beginning. They are jealous of the intrusion of the white man, and refuse their consent to any settlement for Missionary purposes that will enclose the land or use the water. The ladies of the Westchester branch of the Woman's Auxiliary of New York have in mind to send out two women Missionaries, or else a Missionary and his wife, both of whom shall be Missionaries. It is fortunate for these Indians, and for those who are interested in them, and for the government, that Lieut. Plummer has been sent to Fort Defiance, and is to be retained there. I hope that those who have been interested in the government school will continue their interest and assistance. It will be something worth doing to help make that school effective. But we ought to do more than that."

What the Bishop said as to the plans having proved impracticable was only too true, and indicated plainly that our friend Wadleigh, with all his enthusiasm and consecration of effort, did not make a success of the two-fold project, and of his double responsibility as Superintendent of the Navajo school and Missionary of the Episcopal Church. And yet Mr. Wadleigh's efforts were not entirely in vain, for the experiment was valuable and well worth trying, because it revealed what not to do, and why. It was in fact a prelude to a better understanding of the needs and of the problems involved in the sincere wish of the church and of the government to serve the Navajo people, and it opened the way for an entirely different and far better objective. Yes, and it also fulfilled the prophetic words of the wise Bishop when, after urging the Westchester ladies and other friends to help make the school effective, he said, "but we ought to do more than that."

[11] CHAPTER II
"BUT WE OUGHT TO DO MORE THAN THAT"

Let us see what this "more" was to be; what new objective. The following letters from the Bishop to Miss Schuyler, which we quote almost in full, open up a new and brighter chapter in our story:

Ft. Defiance, Ariz.
May 9, 1894

"My Dear Miss Schuyler:

I address this letter to you . . . Will you see that it gets into proper hands.

I have been here for nearly a week, and after consulting with Lieut. Plummer, the agent, with Miss Merritt, the Superintendent of the government school, and with Mr. Samuel E. Day, who has lived here for several years, and has been a clerk at the agency, and has now a ranch in the neighborhood and belongs to our church, I am prepared to make the following recommendations.

It seems to us all that the most useful thing we can do is to establish a hospital here at Fort Defiance.

We could establish a Mission to consist of a field matron and assistant, who could go about among the Indians and do them a great deal of good. Hospital work would give us the opportunity here, that it gives everywhere, of getting at the soul through attention to the body. Next to schools it would afford, perhaps, the best opportunity of making good impressions on these people, and conveying religious instruction to them.

Hospital work would be permanent work. At first we should have our hands full with the care of sick children from the school. In time the government will provide hospital accommodation for its school. Then we should have the field of the Indians in the neighborhood of the agency, for a hundred miles. The government will never provide a hospital for these people!

The hospital could be made the center of field work over this portion of the reservation. In time we could connect with this hospital a Chapel for religious services.

And another reason for locating the work of the ladies here is that it will be but a short distance from a transcontinental railroad line, and it can be visited by some of those who are especially interested in it.

And we can find in the government school a Superintendent for this Hospital-Mission. This is Miss Eliza Thackara. Her father, the Rev. Dr. Thackara, was a well-known clergyman of the Diocese of Florida. Miss Thackara is a communicant of the church, of course. She has made a good record in the school here. She has good sense and good health. By Lieut. Plummer, Miss Merritt and Mr. Day she is strongly commended for the position, and I think that she would accept the appointment. It would be very much in her favor that she is on the ground, that she has the confidence of the authorities here, and that she already knows something of the field and of the work. She was at one time the matron and is now one of the teachers of the government school. I met her here a year ago, and have become more acquainted with her at this visit, and it seems to me that the good opinion expressed of her is well deserved."

[12] Bishop Kendrick then went on to speak of the necessary expenses of the project, which would include a salary of nine hundred dollars for Miss Thackara, and he also said that a regular trained nurse would have to be sent out, since Miss Thackara was not a nurse. He little realized how much of a nurse she would have to be in the days to come! He then mentioned a letter recently received from Lieut. Plummer, heartily re-enforcing his plea for a hospital. The Bishop sent another follow-up letter to Miss Schuyler the very next day, in which he suggested that Miss Thackara's appointment be dated from August 1st, and that the money for the building, (which would be a simple frame structure, costing about twelve hundred dollars), be sent by August 1st.

The Westchester branch promptly took up the idea as a special project, following the suggestion of Bishop Kendrick, and endorsed the appointment of Miss Eliza Thackara as Superintendent, or matron. The secretary of the branch, Miss Cornelia Bolton, immediately informed Miss Thackara of their action, and evidently wrote also to Bishop Kendrick, for he replied (June 7, 1894), thanking the branch for their action and announcing his 'official' appointment of Miss Thackara. He added, however, that she had informed him that she would not be able to begin work until the first of September. Meantime Miss Thackara had replied to Miss Bolton's letter and had said, "in accepting the position, while I feel, having had a very close acquaintance among these Indians for the past two years, that the work, any work, will be of slow growth and arduous, yet it will be such a blessed work I cannot well refuse to aid in its advancement to the extent of my power."

Shortly after, (July 7, 1894), the Bishop wrote to Miss Schuyler and in his letter said, "it will be necessary not only to provide the hospital, but also to bring in the patients. The influence of the "medicine men" is strong among the Navajos, and that influence will oppose and be opposed. Miss Thackara must go about among the Indians and make their acquaintance and acquire their confidence. Patients will not come as soon as the hospital doors are open. Miss Thackara realizes very deeply the importance of the spiritual side of the work. A beginning is now in sight. From this beginning I hope and pray that the work may grow into something substantial and permanent. Application has been made through Lieut. Plummer for permission to establish a Hospital-Mission at Fort Defiance, and for a site for the buildings. Mr. Plummer and Miss Thackara have decided where the location shall be made, when permission to locate is received."

This application was acted upon by the Navajo Council, and after due consideration was granted. This was on October 20, 1894. On July 24, 1894, the day following Bishop Kendrick's letter to Miss Schuyler, Miss Thackara had also written to her, after a conference with the Bishop in Albuquerque, in which many things were discussed. She mentioned her intention of taking August for a vacation in her old home in Florida, and expressed the hope that en route she might stop for a visit in Philadelphia, and that being so near the Westchester people she might have a chance to talk with some of the ladies personally, with the Bishop's approval. Then she went on to say:

"It is almost impossible to understand the nature of this work. You must live among these Indians and see them in their own country. They do not love Americans (white); these Navajos have had so much to make them distrust us. In entering upon this Missionary work, this Mission hospital, we will find that we have got to overcome the influence of the medicine men, and here lies the great work we may have to do. The sick and suffering do need our help, but we have more to do than this."

We are at once reminded by these last words of what Bishop Kendrick had said in his address to Convocation a year before, as quoted above, when, speaking of the need of interest in the government school, he had declared, "but we ought to do more than that." This "more" is just what the efforts and understanding devotion of Miss Thackara were to accomplish later in a remarkable degree.

Miss Thackara made her intended trip to the east, although we have no report of it further than a mere reference in a letter written a few months later to Miss Schuyler. This was followed by two to Miss Bolton, and these two letters were so illuminating, as they unfold the story of her experiences and purposes, that we must give them nearly in full. (October 15, 1894)

[13] "The two years I had spent here had made me very familiar with all the surroundings. It gave me sincere pleasure to see again all the Indian children as well as the older Indians and to find that they had been watching for me. I never found the Navajos other than kindly and affectionate. I acknowledge that it takes some time to gain their confidence, but once friends they are loyal ones.

I must tell you of an experience I had one Sunday morning. I thought I would make a visit to a family I knew. I had not gone more than half a mile when I observed that there was an Indian not far behind me, so I waited until he had overtaken me. After a few words with him--my Navajo language is limited and he did not understand any english--I gave him, in token of good will, my little leather bag to carry.

He was a man past middle age, and I soon disocvered that he was a visitor from a distance. We went on together until we reached Hasteen Tsosie's house; I was quite disappointed to find no one of the family at home. It was quite deserted and there was not an Indian to be seen. I imagine the woman must have been off with her sheep and goats. I sat down on a rock to rest and my Indian stretched himself out on the ground near me, covered his head with his blanket and took a rest also. I had no idea that he intended to stay with me, but supposed that he would go on.

When I felt rested I took out of my bag my little bible and prayer book and went through the morning service. The Indian roused up after awhile and I gave him my books to look at. Without an interpreter, I could not teach him the things I would have been glad to tell him. But to entertain him, I took out a lead pencil and some writing paper and gave him an english lesson and at the same time it was a written lesson. He had never had in his hand, if he had ever seen, a pencil. I first wrote 'cat', (Navajo mousae). He wrote it and learned the word. Then we took 'pig' (be-so-te); next 'dog' (cla-chin); and the last word 'man' (has-teen). I had him repeat the words over many times and he learned to say them without hesitating. Think how quick he was! And he was perfectly delighted with it all. I think he would have spent the afternoon over it, but it was time for me to start home. I gave him the pencil and a fresh piece of paper with the four words written on it. He took me all the way home. I have not seen him since, but some day I may, and I will hope that I have made a friend for your hospital.

Now there is plenty of work for me to do. The hospital will not fill unless the older Indians know who is in charge; they must feel that there is a friend to come to. I have a room at the agent's house. Lieut. Plummer is very kind; had he not taken me in, I should have been obliged to have stayed in Gallup until I had either gotten a tent or put up a house of one room; there is no room in the government buildings. I board at the 'mess'. In a few weeks Lieut. Plummer will be leaving and a new agent will take his place, and I cannot expect to keep this room. I am very anxious to get a little house put up. I do not care how rough it is, only that it may be warm.

When I met the ladies in New York, I urged upon them the very important matter of providing a team of horses. . . I have discussed this question with Lieut. Plummer; I could not have a better adviser. The hope of using Indian ponies must be given up, as it would not be practicable for us. In having our own team we could save hauling the stone, lumber, shingles, etc., almost more than enough for buying a team. I will put the cost of the two horses at $150.00. We can get just the wagon we want at Albuquerque. Of course there must be provision made for keeping it; $12.00 a month for each horse. Hay and oats cost a good deal. A stable should come in as a part of the hospital buildings.

[14] I cannot now tell you what the cost of digging a well would be. I am expecting to see a man who understand well-digging. This man can take charge of the work; I will give him Indians to assist. As far as I can in carrying out this work, I intend to employ Indians. The Indian men are good workers and I shall be with them on the grounds to see that they do not waste the time. I have heard from the Bishop that the $l200.00 is at my service. In five days the Indians whom I have engaged to get out the stone for the hospital building will be ready to go to work. The getting out of the stone will take some little time; when we are ready to haul the stone, if the team were on hand, we would save at once. If not, I must hire a team; the winter will have set in before we get the walls up, if we delay.

The application which Bishop Kendrick made to the Department of the Interior for permission to locate a hospital Mission at this agency, for the benefit of the Navajo Indians was granted. But before we commence building at all, or doing anything at all on the land, it is necessary to have the approval of the Indians. Lt. Plummer, as soon as I returned, sent out messengers to call them in to a Council, to let them hear what was to be done for them, and to have their full consent to make use of the piece of land we have selected. Two of the chief men, Old White Head and Juanica, have not yet returned from a hunting trip far in Utah. We must wait for them for the Council."

Five days later, October 20, 1894, the Indian Council met at the agency and acted favorably on the request for land for the proposed hospital. It was indeed a most interesting meeting in every respect, and in fact quite unusual. After Lieut. Plummer had made a brief talk explaining the purpose of the hospital and the benefit it would be to the people, several of the chief men made talks, as representing the tribe. One of these was Old "Many Horses", who said that the Navajos were very glad that their white brothers and sisters were going to build a house for them to go to when they were sick and needed good medicine and a 'good doctor'. This was most gratifying and showed the changing sentiment on the part of the Indians, and a consequent lessening of opposition. The medicine men did not say much, but they must have been troubled, and their own opposition was not entirely overcome for some time to come.

The next important matter was the definite selection of a site for the building. Miss Thackara had previously gone out with Lieut. Plummer to select what seemed to them to be the most convenient and desirable place, but after the council meeting they took some Indians with them to see the site they had in mind and found to their great surprise that they had made a most unfortunate selection, which, if it had been used, would have wrecked their whole project; for as soon as the location was pointed out the Indians exclaimed: "shin-de, shin-de:" some of them walked off as fast as they could go and others drew their blankets over their heads and would not look. This "shin-de" is one of the sad superstitions of the Navajos, even to this day. We will let Miss Thackara tell us about it:

"When a Navajo is about to die, he is carried out of his house, for he must not die in his house; should any man, woman or child die in a house, it must be immediately destroyed. Should it be left standing, it would be death to anyone who would ever enter it, and so great is the dread of the place where it stood that no Navajo wants to pass near it; it is "shin-de!"

When Lieut. Plummer looked about at this place, he noticed that it had not been planted for a long time, and it was evident to him that no Indian had claimed it. Someone had died there; it might have been years before. Accordingly the lieutenant said to the interpreter, "tell the Indians that they must select a place to build the hospital." They were greatly pleased to have the opportunity and responsibility given to them and gladly led the 'white brother and sister' to other places, and in about a couple of hours, as Miss Thackara tells us, "a new location has been decided on. And a most admirable selection it was; an Indian knows good camping ground. We have a charming location for this country. There is good ground for the buildings on a sunny slope of the mesa, while below the land will be excellent for pasture and garden."

[15] Miss Thackara's letter to the Westchester branch in which she told of the Navajo superstition of the "shin-de", especially in relation to death, unfortunately caused no little alarm among her good friends in the east, who quite naturally feared that such a superstition would interfere with the work of the hospital, where deaths would occur from time to time. So in another letter Miss Thackara took pains to reassure the Westchester ladies as follows:

"I am so sorry that I so alarmed the ladies by my account of the "shin-de". I can see now that it was calculated to make them anxious. This subject has been carefully looked into. I do not think it will interfere with our work--we will use caution. A dying Indian, if an old Indian, I would rather not take into one of the wards, yet if a death should occur, it would not have the effect you fear. I am told that six childred died here (at the agency); it was in one of the small houses used by the agency physician for his offices; there were a front room and two small back. Outside Indians--visiting Indians--were often allowed to sleep in this house; the sick children were taken there to nurse them. . . . The death in the house did not seem to affect the Indians, for they afterwards came in and out as usual. . . . for they said, 'shin-de does not come to the white man's house; the Navajos are not afraid there!'".

This last sentence seems to have explained matters satisfactorily to all concerned. However, Miss Thackara realized that a small morgue would have to be built when the hospital was finally finished.

It was a memorable day when the work of getting out the stone from near-by quarries was begun. Six Indians were employed and they worked well and with considerable interest. Most of the tools had to be purchased in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where for some time all sorts of supplies had to be obtained, although some things could be bought in Gallup, which was much nearer. Miss Thackara hoped to get out enough stone to make a beginning on the walls and to accomplish something definite before the heavy snows and the cold weather would make it too difficult for the masons to do good work. Meantime, as she visited the land where the hospital was to be located, it seemed at first to be a rather lonely place in a barren sort of country with so little water available that only a few stunted trees, mostly pine and juniper, could grow; and it was so far from the agency, almost a mile by road, although by a foot-path it was not much over half that distance. There were times when even the enthusiastic Miss Thackara had some misgivings as to whether she had undertaken a work and a responsibility that she might not be equal to. However her splendid Christian spirit and unfailing faith carried her steadily on.

It was during this fall of 1894 that a cloud of regret and disappointment cast a shadow over the scene; Lieut. Plummer, the genial and most efficient agent of the reservation, felt obliged to resign. For two years his pleasing personality and his undoubted fitness for his task had made him stand out as an unusually excellent government official and leader. His wise administration of his office and his sympathetic understanding of the Indian made especially effective his ready cooperation in the Missionary projects of our church, of which he was a devout member. But unfortunately the weight and strain of his duties, with the many trying experiences they entailed, began to be too great for him. It is also quite possible that the great altitude of the region was affecting him, as it did so many. A year before he had remarked to Bishop Kendrick in one of his letters that he was "asking to be relieved of his duties, because of feeling incompetent." He was certainly most conscientious and perhaps quite too modest. Anyway, in this fall of 1894 he announced his expected transfer to another field of labor, which was that of active service once more in the U.S. Army. He was therefore succeeded by Captain, (or was it Major?), Constant Williams of the famous Seventh Cavalry, which had distinguished itself in Indian warfare. Although ready to welcome the new official and to hope for his cooperation, both the Bishop and Miss Thackara felt that the departure of Lieut. Plummer was the "removing of a pillar of strength."

[16] CHAPTER III
FOUNDATION STONES

However, the good work went on apace, in spite of the removal of that "pillar", Lt. Plummer, and Miss Thackara said in November 1894:

"I do not know much of hospital work, but I know what can be done for the Navajos. This will not be like any eastern hospital, nor can it be managed in the same way. It must be to suit the Navajos."

Then she spoke of the work of building the hospital as having been started, and that the Indians themselves were quarrying and hauling the stone. It was her very excellent idea to use as much native help as possible, not only to make them feel that they had a part in the work, which of course was most important, but also for the practical purpose of giving them an opportunity of earning a livlihood for themselves and their families, and also of learning habits of industry. She herself was becoming a part of the work, for she was out by 7:30 each morning to meet her workers and to see that they all were well; and three times a day she visited them.

Let us pause a moment and form in our minds the picture of Miss Thackara in the midst of her workers. To the student of Latin classics does it not at once suggest Queen Dido among the builders of the walls of Carthage? Or does the devout student of the scriptures prefer to think of Solomon with his craftsmen, and his workers in the quarries, as the temple walls arise in all their stateliness? Both thoughts are quite in order as we consider Miss Thackara. Small, erect, was this "southern lady", born to command yet always with a gracious manner, she possessed indeed a marked personality. As our story unfolds, we shall be aware of a certain queenliness about her, together with a pleasing simplicity and ingenousness. And we shall also realize that while she would be far from claiming any Solomonic qualities, yet she did possess a wholesome common sense and sound good judgment in many things. She also had a discriminating idea of fitness and proportion which served her well in carrying out her many and diverse duties and responsibilities. This was evident from the beginning, for while she was overseeing the quarry-men, she was not neglecting her larger flock whose plysical and spiritual needs were always appealing to her. Already she was carrying on her clinical work, visiting all the Indians within walking distance, for she had no way of getting about except on foot.

For greater efficiency, as well as for her own convenience, she much desired to have a little house of her own. She had been occupying a room in the agent's house, and was afraid she would have to give it up when Captain Williams came to take Lieut. Plummer's place. However, the new agent was very considerate and gladly allowed her to keep her room as long as she might need it. All this she reported to her friend Miss Schuyler and asked for help in the building of her 'little house', a request which was soon to be granted. Next to this need of a house was that of a more convenient and efficient means of transportation. In other words, she very much wanted a wagon and a team of horses, as she had mentioned to Miss Schuyler in her letter; hardly a moderate request, yet a most practical one, for she needed not only a way to get about herself, but also a means of hauling all sorts of material for the new hospital. It was to Mrs. Bolton that she wrote to make this want known, and the good ladies of Westchester were prompt in responding to all these needs. In regard to the digging of a well on the hospital site, as mentioned above, and the difficulites and possibly the dangers attendant upon this project, she quite frankly asked for some ready cash from the appropriation, so as to be able to pay the workers promptly and regularly, adding "for no one trusts an Indian for a cent." This referred to the traders, who knew how childish the Indians were, especially in the use of money, which they did not well understand, being accustomed to trading and pawning, in which they were well versed. A suspicion might creep in here that the traders, or some of them at least, were not too honest in their dealings with the Indians, and sometimes took advantage of their ignorance and trustfulness, holding them up in many ways. There may have been some ground for such suspicion in the early days, and yet, speaking of traders in general, they were often the best friends of the natives, wholly honorable in their transactions and interested in helping their ignorant customers. We think of "Don Lorenzo" Hubbell and his sons, and of the Wetherills, and many others whose names have come down to us as of outstanding [16/17] "characters" and picturesque personalities. This lack of trust of Indians, as to money, brings up another, and not very happy side of the picture, for using the word 'trust' in a general sense the Indians had great reason for their lack of trust in the whites, as history too well reveals, not only by Indians as a whole throughout the country, but in a particular way by the Navajos because of their tragic experiences not many years before. This we shall discuss further on in our story.

The journals of the Convocations of the District of Arizona held in 1894 and 1895 were imperfect and were bound together in a single volume, and had almost no record of Bishop Kendrick's addresses or of any reports of his visits to Fort Defiance. However, from other records we know that he did make such visits, although we have no information of their details, and we are assured that his deep and personal interest in all that Miss Thackara was doing was unfailing and approving. Miss Thackara herself wrote to Mrs. Bolton one of her characteristic letters in which she described in detail her plans for the hospital-to-be and the financial needs that would be involved. She made it clear that the amount of money promised by her Westchester friends would have to be stretched and re-adjusted to meet the needs. With her womanly insight as well as her practical knowledge of the situation she mentioned the things she must have and those which she very much wanted. For instance there should be a storage room for supplies and provisions and certainly a kitchen and not just a diet kitchen but something for a much wider use. She said that she hoped to have a separate dining room, so as not to have to use the kitchen for this purpose, but she was willing to do without this luxury, although she admitted that "to do so would not be agreeable, but, this I regard as less than the loss of influence a pleasant dining room would have". She was always considering not only the coldly practical needs but also the humanly desirable things. Three bedrooms, for her assistant, her serving woman and herself were highly desirable, and she wanted a guest chamber, for "where will the ladies (visitors from Westchester) lodge when they come to visit the hospital?" She was quite right in this, for just such visitors were to come after awhile, and many others as well. She had already arranged for a room to be her office and reception room, and it would also have to be the dispensary. One wonders how she managed to combine all these uses in one room, but she did, for she was a great manager; a laundry she had to forego, having hope that later the temporary frame house that she was occupying during the erection of the main building could be used as a laundry. Then she mentioned the absolute necessity of having a place for visiting Indians who would come to see their children. In summer they could camp outside, but not during the long, cold winter, especially those Indians who would come from a long distance. "Yes, and they would also need a wash-room with plenty of water and soap!"

The work of getting out and cutting the stone--a very white lime-stone that would eventually turn pinkish as it weathered continued with more or less interruption, chiefly on account of the weather which in the long winter months was most precarious. The Indians who did the work showed a great interest, not only because of the good wages they were getting, but also because many of them felt a personal connection with the whole project. Agent Plummer in his appealing talk at the council meeting which had granted the request for a building site, had especially stressed the advantages that would come to the Navajos from the hospital, and this gave them a feeling of having a part in the work, and a personal interest in it. Several of these active workers later became noted leaders of their people. There was "Pete Price", a man of character and influence and in fact quite an orator, although he never learned to speak English; he afterwards became a native judge of his tribe. During the years in which the hospital was developing into a school, he sent three of his grandsons to the Mission, although he never cared much for the religious influences and teachings the children were receiving.

The next important event was the arrival of the long-expected team of horses. The agency farmer had made a trip into the San Juan region, a hundred and fifty miles to the north-east, where the best horses were to be found, and at the most reasonable prices. It had taken him a month to make the trip across mountain ranges and generally rough country, and the winter had set in by the time of his return--a most severe winter at that--so that all the work on the hospital had to be suspended for many weeks. Even so, the team now arrived, would not have to be idle, but could take Miss Thackara about in the new farm wagon to visit among the Indians in their hogans. So, in spite of wind and weather, the faithful and devoted Missionary "went about doing good" as her master had done in his way so long ago, finding out her people's needs and helping and [17/18] teaching them in many ways. Thus she laid for her future work a foundation of Christian personality and influence as important as the great stones of the walls about to rise. She must have made an impressive appearance, this winter angel of mercy and kindliness, clad from head to foot in garments suited to the severe weather, including long rubber boots to protect her from the deep snow and dampness. It proved to be one of the worst winters known in that region for many years. Not discouraged by the great needs all about her, or by the long delay in putting up the building, she wrote, "I am not even disheartened in the work, and pray that means will come to carry it on."

Another important plan as part of the preparation for the hospital was in regard to the water supply. Midway between Bonito and Black Creeks, which at times were flooding streams, it would seem as if the supply of water would not present a very great problem. But these same water-ways were often practically dry for weeks at a time, nor would the water in them have been suited for domestic purposes at best. So there was but one thing to do and that was to dig a well. With her usual foresight, Miss Thackara had acted promptly, as we have seen, and had sought the advice of Lieut. Plummer and other experts in such matters. The land was very rocky and she was advised to find a spot where the digging would not be too hard; at the same time she was warned not to go too near Black Creek because of the quicksands it had in certain places. After several weeks of careful investigation, an apparently suitable spot was selected. Although she had wisely employed native workers in the stone-cutting and hauling, she decided to seek an expert well-digger, a white man, for this operation. She had an appropriation of $100.00 for the work, and on January 28, 1895, in a letter to Mrs. Bolton, she made a characteristically glowing report of the success of the venture, for it had been a fine piece of well-digging, thirty feet deep with stone-work from bottom to top to protect it from quicksands and cave-ins. It had already nine feet of water which came supposedly from the mountains and not from the creeks. But now came a near-tragic chapter in the story of the well. Wherever the water came from, after it had settled and was tried with great expectations, it proved to be so impregnated with alkali that it could not be used by man or beast: horses and cattle utterly refused to touch it; it couldn't be used at all for cooking purposes, for, as Miss Thackara afterwards exclaimed, "you couldn't even cook beans in it!"

The severe winter dragged along, but although the stone workers were unable to do much of anything, yet Miss Thackara was never idle and always hopeful. Bishop Kendrick himself ever active, turned his thoughts and prayers constantly toward this corner of his great district and wanted to come up to help in any way he could. But Miss Thackara discouraged his trying to make the trip, although fully appreciating his desires. This was not only on his account but also for the very practical reason that there was positively no place for him to stay, she herself having to occupy the only spare room at the agency, a little room back of the agent's office where, she said, "I hear Navajo all day." But the time arrived when she might well have exclaimed with the poet Shelley, "if winter comes, can spring be far behind?" For this is what she wrote to Miss Schuyler on March 25, 1896:

"Three weeks of bright sunshine and milder weather have made quite a change in the appearance of the country around Fort Defiance. We now see the great rocks and the mountains, the rocky mesas, and the barren sandy stretches of land, without the covering of snow which was over all for nearly three months. I cannot say that the landscape has any feature of spring; there is not a green spot visible, but the change to see once again the bare rocks and the sand and the distant mountains without snow is very grateful. I am sure everyone is thankful. I am most sincerely so, that the winter has passed. It has been very severe."

But speaking of the sand which she was so gald to see, she admits a bit later that "sand-on-the-move is not so pleasant. The hospital place is a very exposed position, the sand storms having full sweep. Only they who have experienced these sand storms know how severe they are." During this time her thoughts and plans were being directed towards the planting of various trees, chiefly cottonwood, for their protection in the days to come, and the planting of alfalfa. Corn would have to wait another year. Since the government plans for irrigation and the necessary ditches had had to be delayed and would be too late for that year. But they could fence in a tract [18/19] of low-land where there was natural grass for a pasture for the horses, and thus protect them from the Indian ponies and the great herds of sheep.

But it was not the farming alone that drew her attention and active care; her Navajo people were ever on her mind, and now that the deep mud was drying up she could drive her fine team again and visit the hogans all around. In the letter just quoted, she continued: "on last Saturday I made a visit to a little settlement of Indians nine miles distant. I found the poor creatures in a most destitute condition; I had heard they were so. I had nothing to take them, but I hope I will have something soon. The agency, Captain Williams, has heard from Mr. Welsh that some clothing is to be sent for distribution. I am to have a portion of it." Then in regard to the hospital for these same people: "I hope indeed that interest will be aroused for the carrying out of this Mission. The Navajos are a large tribe, and increasing in number. They are a bright people and I feel that there will be a marked improvement in their condition in the next ten or fifteen years, if the proper work is done by us, their 'white brothers and sisters'." And yet these otherwise 'bright' Indians were still reluctant to send their children to the government school, which according to Miss Thackara was larger and better organized than ever before. "There are, I am told, hundreds of children not sent to school; the Navajos are very reluctant to send in their children; they fight against sending them, but there will be a change in time. One of the efforts I will make in going out among the older Indians will be to influence them to allow their children to go to school." Incidentally, she added, "I have gotten an Indian mother to wash her little children; how much cleaner the little faces are, and the mother so much pleased since she sees the improvement."

After the trying delay during the long, severe winter, it was good to see the work going on once more, and everyone was hoping to see steady and more rapid progress all along the line. But in spite of all hopes and expectations the progress was very slow and discouraging for the next six months. This was largely due to the great distances all the building material had to be hauled, and the almost impassable roads during much of the year. The lumber had to come from the government saw mill sixteen miles away over a rough and dangerous road, so that only small loads could be hauled with safety by the new team and the fine new wagon. All hardware and other things to be purchased had to be brought thirty miles from Gallup over a road that was at best very uncertain and difficult. Some things might have come by freight to Gallup from Albuquerque and other places quite distant and at high rates; this would be true of most of the furniture. So it was that Miss Thackara, always resourceful, decided to employ certain native carpenters to make some of these articles. The Mission style of furniture was the easiest and simplest to construct, which was why the California padres in days long gone had invented it. And this is what the Navajo wood-workers put together. With all respect to those heroic and long-suffering padres, our nineteenth century Missionaries and their many visitors during the years just ahead were destined to suffer much discomfort from that simply constructed furniture! Happily, in recent years these things have been humanely replaced by modern styles, far more conducive to bodily and even spiritual comfort. To keep the cost of the whole building within the $1200.00 of the appropriation proved to be a nightmare to poor Miss Thackara, who frequently had to write to her eastern friends and benefactors, urging them to be as liberal as possible in their gifts. As it was, the much-needed stable would have to wait, although the stone and lumber was on hand, all these matters she reported to Miss Emery in a letter dated September 10, 1895, in which she remarked: "I am so in hopes that means will come in to finish the buildings, that we may push the work and get in before winter. If the winter sets in, we may have to suspend work until spring!" And the winter did set in early in November when a snow storm occurred, but not until considerable progress had been made on the walls so that by building bon-fires outside the four corners the mortar was kept from freezing and the walls completed and covered up. This was all that it was possible to do, for there followed another long, cold winter with its many trials, discomforts and discouragements, during which Miss Thackara became again the "Snow Angel" of Mercy to her Navajo people.

Sometime during this trying year, 1895-1896, Bishop Kendrick had made a visit to Fort Defiance, only briefly mentioned in his Convocation address in the spring of 1896, and he gave no details of his visit nor made any comments about the things that had been going on there. This seems strange, but may have been due to oversight on the part of those who attended to the printing of the journal; surely it was not for any [19/20] lack of interest in the building of the hospital or lack of approval of the great project in its unfolding, for all this was certainly very near to his heart. There were, however, at this time two other ventures in Indian Mission work, both very limited in dimensions, it is true, and quite short-lived, but they may have in a measure diverted his attention from the Navajo field. One of these was at Fort Apache in the extreme eastern part of Arizona, and the other in the extreme western part, at Fort Mojave. Neither of these ever amounted to much or lasted very long, so their story forms no real part of this narrative and are mentioned parenthetically, as it were.

The year 1896 is somewhat surrounded in mystery as far as any definite or detailed knowledge of the progress of the building is concerned. No mention of a visit to Fort Defiance during the year was made by the Bishop in his address at the 1897 Convocation, although he did indicate his approval of the project, saying "I feel very confident that we are on the right track." But 1896 must have been an eventful year as to the building and furnishing of the hospital, and also in the continued shepherding of her people by Miss Thackara, even before the hospital was completed, for during all these months she kept up her spirit of cheerfulness and unbounded faith.

[21] CHAPTER IV
OPENING DOORS

At last her dreams were fulfilled and her faith rewarded, for on March 1, 1897 the doors of the hospital were thrown open. It was considered to be the finest building on the Navajo reservation, and since the Indians had been employed as far as possible in its construction, and their leaders had been the ones to select the site, it created a keen personal interest among the people, as they came to understand that it was to be devoted to their own particular use. Miss Thackara might well say, as she did in a later report: "they have now learned how much they need this building--this little hospital--it is their own and has been dear to them!" The very next day after its opening, the first patient was admitted. It was an Indian with a terrible cancer on his arm. He had been waiting and suffering until the hospital should be ready. A report made by Bishop Kendrick quoted a letter from the agency physician which gives us a vivid description of the case. He said:

"Without the furniture or the utensils that were absolutely necessary, without a nurse or a housekeeper to attend to the wants of a patient, with nothing in fact but a well arranged building in a state of perfect cleanliness, this Indian was laid on the floor and the operation was performed by the doctor, aided by a trained nurse, at that time a matron of the government school. Neither doctor nor nurse could remain and upon Miss Thackara devolved the whole care of the patient. It was a critical case, for had he died the superstitious fears of the Navajos would have rendered the hospital a failure. His recovery was rapid and complete, and the success of the hospital was assured."

It certainly was fortunate, in fact quite providential, that this, the first case turned out so well, as the Bishop indicated in his reference to the superstitious fears of the Navajos. For while it was true, as Miss Thackara had reported to her Westchester friends two years before, that "shin-de does not come to white man's house", as one of her Indian friends had remarked, nevertheless she was most careful to avoid unnecessary complications of this kind, and at the beginning of the hospital work to have a death occur would have been unfortunate, to say the least. This would have been especially true because the Navajos had been encouraged to feel that the hospital belonged to them in a peculiar way, and was not entirely "a white man's house".

With this auspicious beginning, the daily ministrations of the new hospital continued with ever increasing opportunities of usefulness. Little by little the furnishings and equipment were secured, which had been lacking in that first operation, and conditions became more favorable. Nor was the religious work neglected; that was always of first importance. In August of that year, (1897), Bishop Kendrick made his first "visitation". He was accompanied by the Rev. Mr. Manuel of our recently organized Mission at Gallup, for it was the Bishop's idea to have as close a connection as possible between these two neighbor Missions, and that the minister at Gallup should be as far as possible, the pastor, or chaplain of the hospital. On the occasion of this visit they held a service in the dining room of the government school; but more significant still was a baptism held at the hospital. Two children were baptized, who had practically been given to the Mission by their relatives, one was a small boy named Edward Plummer, in delicate health; who did not live long. The other child was "Glympba", who belonged to the household of "One-eyed Billy", a well-known medicine man. Her mother had recently died and, as nobody seemed to want to take care of the child, she was handed over to the Mission. Glympba was the first of many orphaned or neglected children who from time to time were brought up at the Mission. Some of these were legally adopted and others practically so. Miss Thackara was especially attracted to this girl and it was her hope that she might be educated along Christian lines, while keeping in touch with her own people, and thus be of service to them and to the tribe and extending more widely the influence of the Mission. This recalls to us "Zona", in whom Mr. Wadleigh a few years before had taken a great interest in the same general way, and in our story we shall hear of others who were taken up by the Mission in like manner.

[22] All this suggests to us an interesting fact, which seems to be true in nearly all church Missions; that certain children or young people are often selected to be especially prepared and trained to become Missionaries among their own people. For the most part those who are trained locally, and perhaps not too thoroughly, for certain definite tasks such as belong to interpreters, catechists and local lay evangelists, do make good in their limited spheres and are of definite advantage to the work. At the same time others who have been selected because of their special intelligence or devotion and have been sent away to state colleges or universities, or even to nationally known institutions like Haskell and Sherman, have seemed to lose their former interest in their own people and have not retained the Missionary vision they once possessed. Now surely this is not strange, nor is it entirely deplorable, although it does bring disappointment to their friends at home and to their former teachers. After breaking away from their isolation and privations on a reservation, and from the fostering care of a Mission, they come in contact with a larger and far more interesting world with all its advantages and opportunities. No wonder, if after their usual nostalgic days, they begin to lose the urge to go back and settle down among their own people. It would take a pretty strong Missionary motive to overcome the pull of wider freedom. It is true that most of these young people, after their school days, are soon lost sight of and become very ordinary individuals, settling down to married life in most cases, in greater or less degrees of happiness and usefulness, while among their own people they might well have become effective servants of humanity. It is indeed a question to be considered seriously and sympathetically and from a broad point of view, nor can it be settled right away. Possibly in the days to come when our Indian people will be fully recognized, as they are beginning to be today, as a vital part of the nation, with an important and long needed contribution to make to national and world-wide welfare and culture, those who have strayed away may directly, or indirectly through their children, find the parts they are destined to play. Meantime, all honor to those who having gone away to acquire a thorough education in the outside world, do come back to serve their own people, and the church of their childhood which first awakened them to the new life!

Early in 1898 Miss Thackara made a trip to New York to interest our church people in her new project. Wherever she told her story she made new friends, so that she secured enough funds to provide the salary for a certin "lady physician" for one year. This was Dr. Mary E. Pradt Harper, who was at once appointed for the position at the hospital, but who could not arrive until August. Immediately after her arrival she went to work in earnest, not only in the hospital but among the Indians all about. She certainly was a success, and in writing to the Bishop not long after, Miss Thackara said, "she is wonderfully fitted for this work. She is a very small woman, but can endure long journeys (on horseback) over the mountains, camping out at night. Her acquaintance is already quite extensive, and the Indians are delighted with her. I wish I could tell you half the interesting experiences she has had, and what she brings to the hospital." As for that, all the members of the hospital staff were continually showing a fine hospitality to the families of the patients, although it severly taxed the resources of the Mission to do so. This had the great advantage of establishing friendships with the Indians and in opening the way for Missionary work among this nomadic people, whom it was hard to reach in other ways. Then in this same letter followed a sentence which three years later would prove to have been prophetic and quite significant: "They are a pastoral people. Their attachment to their flocks is a feature of their character. They would understand and appreciate in each home a picture of "the Good Shepherd", as their daily life makes it familiar."

In this connection, in a letter to the Bishop, Miss Thackara mentioned the need of funds to provide an Indian boy with a horse, to be a companion and interpreter for Dr. Harper on her trips to visit the out-patients, which sometimes took several days. A house for such a boy to occupy was soon put up, and was called the "Boy's House". The first boy to use it was Clarence Gatewood, who had come with his family from the immediate neighborhood. The family was from that time to become very closely associated with the Mission for many years. The house was built in three sections connected by temporary wooden chambers, so as to permit changes to be made to provide for different and wider uses in the days to come; possibly for a laundry. As they were, one room was to be used by the Gatewoods, another for an additional worker, and the third for a reception room for visiting Indians.

[23] At about this time another 'helper' arrived. It was a Miss Garrett from Virginia. She was to be a teacher for the children connected with the Mission. She soon built up an interesting and much needed work among these little ones, some of whom were brought in from their near-by homes. No further mention is made of Miss Garrett in letters or reports, and it is not known how long she stayed. But the idea of such a school was excellent and was adopted some years later.

For a closer spiritual supervision than he alone could give, Bishop Kendrick planned to appoint officially our Missionary in Gallup as "Chaplain", and this plan worked out satisfactorily for several years. At this particular time the Chaplain was the Rev. Mr. Garrison, and he made frequent trips over the thirty miles of terrible roads to reach the hospital, and his successor at Gallup, the Rev. Robert Reminson, accompanied the Bishop to Fort Defiance in February of 1899. They also held a service at the government school, and at the Mission the Bishop baptized three children and celebrated the Holy Communion. This was the first Communion service to be held at the Mission.

At the annual Convocation of the district, held in Phoenix on June 1 and 2, 1899, our hospital at Fort Defiance was for the first time regularly recorded in the official list of Missions. Bishop Kendrick, in his address, said:

"The buildings make an impressive group and are sightly and substantial. The hospital has now fairly commenced its work. Much is still needed in the way of service and equipment, but patients can now be received and cared for. The Indians are becoming interested, and hostility and prejudice are disappearing. Even a medicine man comes in now and then to be treated. Miss Thackara has her hands full. The general work requires her most active superintendence. With her other duties she has a large correspondence. One of the last letters I had from her was written at two in the morning."

Miss Thackara was indeed a remarkable woman, as has been indicated before, and she was certainly a happy choice as Superintendent of our new Missionary hospital. She always had great respect for the Navajo character and personality. Recognizing his natural faults, she could yet understand the man beneath and the fine qualities he possessed. She went about among the people and worked with them and for them as a real friend, and they soon recognized her as such. Their superstitions troubled them, of course, especially their shin-de complex, which was most apparent in the presence of death, with their dread of contamination by contact with a dead person. Their barbarous custom for generations had been to carry a hopelessly sick person, even a little child, out on the hillside as far as possible from their hogan, and leave him there to die rather than to risk the influence of evil spirits by allowing him to die peacefully at home! Although at this particular time some of them, at least, claimed that the "shin-de did not come to the white man's house", yet Miss Thackara was very careful in the whole matter and more than once had to carry a little dead child in her own arms to the grave, the father perhaps showing his 'great courage' by following at a safe distance! She also showed her tactfulness in not too directly opposing the native superstitions or interfering with certain ancient customs in a way that would shock the imbedded beliefs of the people. She even won the confidence of some of the medicine men, so that occasionally they allowed her to be present during their wild incantations over the sick, a "singing" as they called it. On some of these occasions, when they had finished, she would say, "my brothers, you have done your part, now I will do mine". Then she would bathe the sick one, use some simple remedies and say a short prayer. And, as Bishop Kendrick used to say, "God and his pure mountain air did the rest". If the patient recovered, as was frequently the case, very likely the medicine men would get the credit, but that didn't trouble Miss Thackara overly much.

On May 21st of this year, (1899), Miss Thackara wrote to the Bishop that a party of Indians had left for the government Indian School in Phoenix, taking with them a young Navajo who had been working at the Mission several months. He had come there ignorant and uncivilized, but had so changed his ideas that he wanted the advantage of an education such as he could not get at Fort Defiance, although Miss Thackara herself had taught him to read, and had aroused his ambition to go further. This most laudable desire of the young man suggested to her the idea of sending her young protegee, Glympba, to Phoenix also, for she had expressed her desire to go. And she did go, [23/24] taking with her a younger half-sister. Glympba had worked hard at the Mission, helping in many ways, and Miss Thackara had found her quite invaluable, and was glad to give her the opportunity of obtaining the education she had longed for. As it happened, there were already at the Phoenix school a number of Navajos, some of whom were friends of Glympba, which would be to her advantage. The only regret that Miss Thackara had was that the girl would not be under church influences, unless some special plan could be worked out for her attendance at Trinity Church, but this proved not to be feasible and the plan could not be carried out. However, in later years just such a plan was adopted and proved to be very useful.

In October the Bishop visited the Mission, accompanied by his daughter, Elizabeth, who had become his secretary and was to make other visits with her father in many parts of his district. On this visit the Bishop baptized a little girl named "Eva Alice" who was in the government school. She had been quite ill and did not survive many weeks. Writing to Miss Jay on December 7, 1899, Miss Thackara expressed great discouragement on account of the continued lack of sufficient funds to carry on the work satisfactorily, but in the same letter she was able to tell with joy the great things that were going-on, many interesting and serious cases had been successfully treated. One patient was an old "witch doctor" who had been badly injured and was brought to the hospital to die, his friends feeling sure that the shin-des would not trouble him there. They were quite right and the old fellow got well and seemed very grateful, although it is not recorded that he gave up his profitable practices. Continuing her letter, Miss Thackara spoke of the new dining room where eight patients could come, she herself always taking her meals with them, presiding at the head of the table, with her interpreter at the foot. "It is very pleasant", she said; "How different from the entertainment in the Indian huts! I do believe in the future of this work; there never has been any Mission among these Indians that has brought forth results in a shorter time!" And then she expressed her joy at receiving an organ. It was placed in the interpreter's house where the patients and staff had been accustomed to gather frequently for singing and informal services. Also a new and permanent stable had been completed, "the greatest improvement and comfort on the place." One wonders if she ranked the stable above the organ; anyway we know that her human kindness was not confined to Indians, and her attitude towards god's dumb creatures was a fine example to her people, for it is well known that Indians in general are far from being considerate of their domestic animals. Then continuing she spoke of Glympba, far away in the Phoenix school, whom she greatly missed, but who was improving in every way.

As for herself, she was so busy all the time that she had no time to read the church papers which she received from her friends, or anything else, much less could she sit down and write any but the most important letters--not even to her own family. This constant pressure for time, equally with her perpetual anxiety about the lack of sufficient funds to 'carry on', was to become her almost daily experience, such as would have completely exhausted many another Missionary in the great field. Another annoyance was, and continued to be, the constant change in the personnel of her staff and of all her helpers. During this month of December (1899), her efficient doctor, Miss Harper, resigned and went to Gallup where she was to open an office for herself. To Miss Jay she wrote in January, "Miss Harper was tired of this hard work." This was natural enough. However, Miss Thackara went on in her letter to praise the doctor most highly for her great ability and popularity, as well as for her fitness for her work, as she daily had won the confidence of the Indians. All the more for this very reason was it hard to give her up. And she added, "But, her zeal gave out!" Very true indeed, and the same thing might be said of more than one Missionary. Mighty few have shown the consecrated zeal of this one devoted servant of the Lord! Dr. Smith of the agency was then engaged to help at the hospital, and not long afterward Dr. Zadok P. Henry arrived from Maryland to become the regular Mission doctor. For all her discouragement at the turn of events, and the pressing need of more adequate support, our indomitable missionary was brave and undaunted and could express her keen joy over the Christmas doings as almost the happiest Christmas and new year she had spent in Arizona. They had had a joyful Christmas service in which the new organ had taken its part, as they sang the old hymns and carols, and the Indians had enjoyed it, although they could not understand a word. "Watchman, tell us of the night" seemed to be a favorite; and in each hymn it was doubtless the music with its melody and rhythm that appealed to them--quite different from their own 'singings'.

[25] Writing again to Miss Jay in January, 1900, Miss Thackara mentioned two persons who today are alive and active and who remember her with affection. One of these is Hosteen Nez ("tall man") who had been seriously injured and had been for some time at the hospital. He afterwards became her "right-hand man", helping directly at the Mission for a long time, and then responding to special emergency calls in the line of building and repairing as well as farming and many other duties. He had been baptized as "Robert E. Lee", (we wonder if that was not Miss Thackara's suggestion, as a veritable southerner), and later his son was baptized with the same name, and much later a grand-daughter "Bessie" was active at the Mission in various ways. A very useful and devoted family they proved to be. The other child mentioned in the letter was "Nellie". She was a sister of Jim Damon who for years lived about a mile away and was also closely associated with the work and had all his children baptized. Looking ahead in our narrative, his four splendid boys were all in World War II, and he himself had become Warden of the Mission. He had a fine command of the english language and was always delighted to be called upon to read the lessons at the services. As for Nellie, she had come as a patient at the hospital, and although only nine years old, was most intelligent and also a very good interpreter, and remained awhile to help Miss Thackara, who became very fond of her as she more or less took the place of Glympba in her interest and affection. In later years Nellie married a neighbor of their family, a Mr. Alexander Black. He had come to the agency as a Presbyterian Missionary but soon decided that he would do better as a trader, since the Navajo language proved to be rather too much for him! So he opened a little store near the Damon ranch and appropriately situated on the bank of "Black Creek", where for many years he has been a good friend of the Navajo and a cordial backer of our Mission, although remaining a staunch Presbyterian.

This winter, (1899-1900), so far had been remarkable for its mildness, but it had been a hard time for the Mission on account of the serious lack of funds which soon reached a climax, so that Miss Thackara had to write again in February that, although there was not a cent of debt on any of the buildings, yet "if we break down now, it is only because we lack bread!" Fortunately relief must have come soon, for we can find no record of further appeals at this time. Meantime Jim Damon had become the official interpreter, following Clarence Gatewood who himself had been a patient since the preceding fall, but had recovered completely and had gone home with a young bride. The interpreter before him had been Nelson Gorman.

For several months after Dr. Harper's departure the Mission had been without a regular doctor, although Dr. Smith, the agency physician, had attended to the actual needs of the hospital, and his services had been greatly appreciated. However on the 28th of April, 1900, a new doctor arrived from the east, the Board of Missions having voted to continue the appropriation which had been made for Dr. Harper. This new doctor was a Miss Robinson, who at Bishop Kendrick's request, had been met at Gallup by the Rev. W. R. Seaborne, vicar of our church in that town, and who was also ex-officio Chaplain of our Mission. He piloted Dr. Robinson over the long, rough trail to Fort Defiance, where she was welcomed by the Mission staff and began work without delay. The spring and summer of 1900 passed with no outstanding events, but in September, from the 6th to the 9th, the Bishop and the "Chaplain" made a visitation during which the Holy Communion was celebrated and one Navajo infant was baptized at the Mission, and a preaching service was held at the agency.

Now the curtain of our unfolding drama is dropped until January 10 and 11, 1901, when two letters were hurried off to Miss Bolton in which Miss Thackara gave account of her financial stewardship and made a vigorous appeal for more funds for maintenance. She made clear that at the very least $200.00 a month would be needed to carry on the work. Then she made emphatic the absolute necessity of having new "assistants" in addition to her regular staff. These would be a cook, an interpreter, who would also take charge of the laundry, and an "outside man" to look after the stable and the team, and do the hauling that was constantly necessary. For the three she would need $75.00 a month in all. Then in a more encouraging vein, she gave an account of her clinical work, saying that since September 1st, twenty-seven patients had been cared for. As to any outside work, she declared that she had not been able to make any calls because she could not leave the hospital. On this same day she wrote out a typed report in which she mentioned a recent trip she had made with the Bishop to Santa Fe where they had called on two Navajo girls at the government school whom she had known as children. She did not mention their names but said she hoped to secure them in the [25/26] following summer to train them for hospital service, since it was very hard to get girls because they marry so early; often they are sold by their fathers to their prospective husbands, who might be most undesirable, and some of them old men. Once married, these girls would almost always revert to the life of the savage. "It is time we began in earnest the work among women," she said, and then she told of the difficulties she had found in obtaining girls. One difficulty was that the government schools were unwilling to let capable girls go. Another was that "the Roman Missions recently organized are pressing on. They are about to establish a large school at a Mission nine miles from us at St. Michael's. They always have money. The Sisters and the Priests are watching us. They came to see me; they want to know what is going on at the hospital, and how we do our work. Now one of the girls I want, they are making the greatest effort to secure for themselves; they must not get her!"

What she said about the Romish Missionaries as always being able to get money for their endeavors brings out in clear contrast the constant need of more adequate support which Miss Thackara struggled against most of the time. "No one can know as well as I do", she said, "how much we need money. It is not just to keep the work alive--simply to exist and not break down; we are building for the future, and a great work is before us, and money we must have." She was, in fact, very nearly breaking down herself, and the Bishop had for some time been trying to get her to take another trip to the east, to rest as well as to solicit funds, leaving a new assistant who had recently come, to take charge. This was a Miss Virginia Azpell whom Miss Thackara valued most highly, as not only a real Missionary but as a person of refinement and culture, in whose companionship she took delight. But she did not feel that this assistant was equal to the trying experience of managing the Mission in her absence, with no one to help her but a little lad named "Yah Kee", especially in the existing financial crisis. It was soon after this that Miss Fannie Schuyler, to whom Miss Thackara had again appealed for help, wrote an interesting letter to Bishop Kendrick suggesting that some "rich Arizonians be asked to endow the hospital". To which the good Bishop, in a characteristic manner, replied: "what I have to say is that rich Arizonians don't live in Arizona. The men who make the money out of this country are your eastern people. The men who make the money out of our great mines, the men who own our railroads, the men who own our cattle, don't live here; or the women either, these people make their money out of us and spend it somewhere else. These are the men and women who ought to endow our hospital, as they are indebted to this country for their wealth. We have no wealthy 'laity' out here. We are poor, poor, poor! This makes the financial difficulty with all our church work."

[27] CHAPTER V
CHIEFLY CHILDREN

From time to time Miss Thackara would write with great interest about various children who, having been actually orphans, or practically abandoned by their families, had been cared for at the hospital as their only home. In a special letter to the Bishop's new quarterly, "The New Mexico and Arizona Mission", she had this to say about them:

"Several we may consider as really belonging to us. The rest are with us for a longer or shorter time. One very pretty little boy is here with his old grand-parents. The old grandfather is a patient; he is probably seventy-five years old, and is one of the oldest medicine men on the reservation. It was necessary to amputate his foot. We were very anxious about the case at first, the old man was so feeble; but he is doing well and will soon be quite recovered. The old wife is the dearest old Indian woman I know. She is so bright, so sweet-tempered, never the least impatient with the old man, whom she watches over with the greatest solicitude. We have not been able to induce her to sleep in a bed; she lies on her sheep-skins before the open fire. Her little grandson shares her bed, for he will not be separated from her, and she bestows upon him the most tender care and love. . . . The affection of these Indians for their parents and the loving care of the old ones for the little ones is very attractive and touching."

Another child was the little "Yah Kee", already mentioned; his first name was Henry, but he wasn't called by it. He had come to the hospital in 1899, a lad of twelve years. He was accompanied by an old grandmother, another younger woman, and a little girl, all on Indian ponies; the boy himself was on a stretcher of sheep-skins on poles, carried by two men. They had come over a hundred miles to bring him, suffering cruelly with hip disease. He was admitted at once to the hospital where he was to remain for four years under the tender care and treatment of his new friends. He was intelligent and lovable, and naturally became very dear to all hearts. He learned english rapidly; both to read and to write, and soon gave up the old superstitions in which he had been raised by his own people, and asked of his own accord to be baptized. Miss Thackara, returning from one of her eastern trips, brought him a cornet which he learned to play; after three years he was able to go about, and it was then that his wish to be baptized was fulfilled. Always eager for an education, he wanted to go with a party of Navajo youth to the Phoenix Indian School. But his father would not consent, saying that the boy was needed to tend the sheep. Very sadly he brought his books and cornet and other treasures to Miss Thackara, saying, "there is no place to take them to, no house; I must go with my sheep." He made no complaint, but sadly went his way. Somewhat later Miss Thackara wrote to Miss Schuyler that 'little Yah Kee had returned and was very sick and that his disease was causing him great suffering.' She dreaded anything serious happening to him. However, she could before long, write again, "this evening's mail brought a letter for our dear little Yah Kee, all the way from New York. The joy of the little fellow was touching." Whoever sent this letter would have been highly gratified, for Miss Thackara gave it to him right from the mail bag, and another boy, Kee Iso, tried to enlighten him as to the method of opening it, and Miss Thackara continued to say in her letter:

"It was a great feature of the evening; all the Indians present being much interested; when Yah Kee opened it he found two beautiful easter cards, and was overwhelmed with joy to think that some kind friend so far away had sent him a 'nalsos' (letter) all for himself."

A year or two later the lad disappeared. Many efforts were made to find him, but without success until five or six years. Later when he came to the hospital to find Miss Thackara who happened to be away on one of her trips. Not finding her he went on; he did, however, leave a letter for her saying that he had grown tall and had found a position as interpreter, and assuring her that "he was a Christian and was trying to be a good boy."

[28] At a meeting of Convocation on April 25 and 26, 1901, in Phoenix, Bishop Kendrick spoke of Miss Thackara as "one of the heroines of our domestic Mission field", and well he might say so, as all who knew her could testify. In this same address he mentioned with satisfaction the now regularly established custom for the children in all the Sunday schools in the district to devote their advent offerings to the work of the Hospital of the Good Shepherd, "an opportune help to Miss Thackara."

With all her regular duties and the weight of her great responsibilities, plus her attempts to write letters to her eastern friends, who were exacting in their demands for information, it was no wonder that Miss Thackara became thoroughly worn out. So it was that in July of 1901 she left on a much needed vacation trip to Baltimore and other eastern points, to visit her relatives, especially her sister in the mountains of North Carolina. She felt secure in leaving the hospital at this time because of her complete confidence in Miss Azpell, and also because of the arrival of the three girls from Santa Fe. But her well earned vacation was all too soon to be cut short by sudden emergencies at the Mission which caused Miss Azpell to send for her. It seems that one of the babies, the one-year-old child of Clarence Nelson, had died, and shortly afterward, the colored cook, Betty, died suddenly. These two deaths had excited the Indians and upset Miss Azpell, who had to bear all the responsibility. To make matters worse, the government doctor was away on a trip. So back to the hospital Miss Thackara went as fast as possible. Before leaving however, she had seen Glympba, her adopted child in Philadelphia, and had planned for her to return to Fort Defiance with Miss Thackara's sister, Mrs. A. W. Palmer, who was expecting to visit the Mission in the fall. Miss Thackara's plan had been to train Glympba along various lines for ultimate service at the hospital.

In the fall of this year, (1901), Miss Thackara made another trip to the east, but this time it was chiefly to speak at various meetings in and near New York. In the meantime the new government doctor had been appointed, but evidently he was not the right kind, at least as far as our hospital work was concerned, for Bishop Kendrick, writing to Miss Schuyler in December had said, "I wish that we could put the hospital into permanent working order. Things cannot go on forever with such a doctor at the agency. A new physician there would probably relieve the situation. I have thought sometimes that it might be well to represent the case to the Indian department. But I do not like to take any action without Miss Thackara's approval. I shall talk over everything with her when I see her." The Bishop did not care to take upon himself too great a load of responsibility for the financial situation and expressed himself strongly to Miss Schuyler a month later in these words:

"This hospital at Fort Defiance grew out of Mr. Herbert Welsh's interest in the Navajo Indians. It was he who interested the Westchester branch. I have done what I could to give the Indians the benefit of this interest. But I cannot undertake to manage this hospital or to be financially responsible for it, or to raise money for it . . . nor can I give to the hospital funds that come to me that are needed for other purposes . . . I will help the hospital, but I dare not assume it. I am very grateful to the Westchester branch for what it has done and I shall be very grateful for what it can do. This hospital is indeed a blessed work. What you have done has been worth doing. And only a beginning has been made."

Evidently this emphatic statement of the Bishop made considerable impression, so that Miss Schuyler mentioned the matter to Miss Thackara, who in a letter to her on January 27, 1902 spoke most appreciatingly of the Bishop's devotion to the hospital and of his efforts to do all he could for it, in addition to all the needs of his large field.