Mary (Reid) Lusk

In writing a history of the unique life of my pioneer grandmother, I realize that facts are cold and soulless and words are inadequate to portray the charming personality and rare and wonderful character of Mary Reid Lusk.

Endowed by nature with a strong intellect, but living in a period before women had come into their own in the matter of education, she attained a recognition in the medical profession that women were long in reaching after they were grudgingly admitted to medical colleges.

She was a great lover of poetry and her mind was a storehouse for the most beautiful treasures written in verse. She committed easily and her memory was remarkable in its ability to hold anything once committed. Especially fond of the works of Wm. Cowper, she could quote them by the hour. Having a natural Scottish accent, it was especially charming to hear her quote Burns. She had a large fund of interesting stories at her tongue’s end, and to the end of her long life was the most brilliant entertainer for both children and grown-ups I have ever known. She was deeply religious and reverent, but never of the sanctimonious or long-faced type. She was always not only cheerful, but full of fun and jokes.

Strangers were easily captivated by her charm and always departed her friend. In her last years, she was seldom called Mrs. Lusk. There were so many to call her “Aunt Lusk” or “Grandmother” that almost everyone adopted one of those names. Some of her granddaughters passed through a teen age when they wished Grandmother would coldly say, “I’m neither your grandmother nor your aunt. She had a quiet dignity that would not brook familiarity, but she could not have been haughty.

Mary Reid Lusk was the daughter of Isaiah and Mary Clyde Reid, who were natives of Northern Ireland or of Scotland, having come to America and settled in South Carolina in their early married Life. They belonged to that strict religious sect known as Covenanters.

Mary was the youngest of several children and was born Feb. 14, 1806. When she was about eight years of age, here parents removed to Indiana. The reason for this movement is told in her own words written for “The History of Washington County” Published in 1884. She says:

“The Covenanters of South Carolina were very much dissatisfied with Negro slavery and its accompanying evils and being desirous of freeing themselves from the influence and responsibilities growing out of the pernicious institution began in companies and societies to immigrate to the Free states.”

“In 1814 or 1815 my father with his family came to some friends at Charleston, Clarke Co; Ind. We remained at this place for two years. In the latter part of 1817 we came to the Walnut Ridge.”

In a recent letter written by Mrs. Belle Lusk Burcham, the only living child of Mary Reid Lusk, she speaks of the long journey made in wagons from South Carolina to Indiana as follows:

“I know nothing of Mother’s birthplace only as I’ve heard her say “it was thirty miles from Charleston in South Carolina.” Grandfather was doing well financially and only left South Carolina because of slavery. They came by wagon in the fall of the year, starting in September, I think. Mother, as I remember her stories, enjoyed every mile of that long trip. They were a number of families and were in perfect accord as to the object in leaving the south. They had their family worship night and morning and rested on the Sabbath. No rush of work or travel interfered with their observance of the Fourth Commandment. They separated at the Ohio River - - perhaps meant to from the first - - the Reids settling in what was called “The Grant” in southeastern Indiana, the rest of the company finding homes in Ohio.”

“Mother used to tell us little incidents of the trip. Once she and Aunt Isabella Ferguson, her sister – stopped to crack walnuts (Aunt was married in S.C. and her baby was a few months old) and when they got through with the walnuts the wagons were out of sight. Then there was panic; they ran and ran. Aunt would carry the baby until she was exhausted; then put it in Mother’s arms and she would do her little best. ‘We just snatched and ran’ Mother would say, ‘till we saw the wagons.’ Their fear was that the road might fork.

“Another time as they came through Tennessee they camped near a house and a little girl of Mother’s size hung around a while and said, ‘If you’ll give me a biscuit, I’ll give you three warnuts’ (walnuts).’ Mother would always say, ‘I was so mean I wouldn’t trade with her and I feel bad about it yet.’”

“During the Civil War, your Uncle Isaiah wrote home that he was in Tennessee, and ‘camped near the place where Mother wouldn’t give the little girl a biscuit for her three ‘warnuts,’”

If one is acquainted with the ways of Covenanters, it is not hard to visualize this party of travelers rest on the Sabbath, spending the day not in physical rest, sleeping late and rising for a late breakfast. No indeed! The Sabbath – not Sunday – was a day for worship and in my mind’s eye I can see these strict Covenanters rising at the usual time, sitting in the shade along the roadside reading Scripture, singing psalms, reciting the catechism and praying. They surely sang – these several families:

“Behold how good a thing it is,

And how becoming well,

Together such as brethren are

In unity to dwell.”

No doubt they halted longer on Saturday than on other days in order that enough might be cooked to last over Sabbath.

After stating that her father moved to Walnut Ridge in 1817, Grandmother continues: “Soon after one Covenanter family after another followed, until we had a society of several families. Every Sabbath we had prayer meeting and we maintained mostly week-day meetings. Thus we sojourned in the wilderness without the preached gospel (Grandmother would have said preach-ed gospel). Sometimes, perhaps once a year, a minister would come along and minister to the little flock for a single Sabbath.”

The Covenanters believed in education and someone was always teaching school, even before the days of public schools. This, I imagine was fall for the sake of the children more than for the sake of remuneration. So in addition to the labors incident to getting his land ready for cultivation, Isaiah Reid found time to teach and his daughter Mary was one of his pupils. Speaking of this school, Aunt says: “I think those school days were the happiest Mother ever knew. She was almost idolatrous in affection for her father.”

One of Grandmother’s favorite recitations was a poem she learned from the first paper published in Salem. Before reciting it, she used to tell us, with a dreamy, far away expression, that here father came home from Salem one afternoon with a copy of the paper and she began at once to commit the poem. Her mother called her to get some wood to prepare the father some diner. Grandmother said, “I ran and got some chips, repeating the lines I had learned and when I got the paper again, I committed the entire poem by sunset.” She could repeat that poem to the day of her death. Its title was “Two Orphans.”

The beloved father survived the rigors of pioneer life, only two years, dying in 1819. Being the first in the community to die, he was buried in the forest on his own land, it being necessary to fell trees across the grave prevent wild animals getting the body.

Grandmother always had an attentive audience when she talked of her childhood days in the forest. One winter, when they were scarce of meat, her brothers went hunting and brought home a number of wild turkeys. The boards of the floor were lifted and the turkeys stored under the house to keep wild prowlers from getting them. “They kept us in meat quite a while” Grandmother would say.

Another little story illustrates the fact that at an early age, she was alive to the dangers of the frontier. Once, when following the trail through the forest from her own home to the Ellison home, about two miles distant, she saw two men riding in front of her. She saw them look back, exchange a few words, and halt. Without waiting to see whether their intentions were good or evil, she turned and sped home as fast as she could travel. She says, “I knew it was what Mother would expect me to do.”

In order to understand the atmosphere in which Mary Reid grew up, it is necessary to know something of the Covenanters. They were very strict in their religious observance and the “society” meetings and church services were the things around which their lives centered. They studied the Bible until they used its language in conversation. You will note that Grandmother says “society” and “meeting house.”

A “society of several families” was a body of families situated so they could meet for prayer and worship. I think the word does not apply only to an organized church. They adhered strictly to the Ten Commandments with perhaps a little emphasis on the Fourth. They rose as early on Sabbath as any day, and the entire day was spent in “public and private worship.” No cooking was done on the Sabbath. They never said Sunday, and the sermons lasted for hours and the day was hard on children.

The society meetings consisted of prayer, scripture reading, psalm singing and reciting the catechism. In the early days before printed books were plentiful, the psalms were “lined” and sung. Someone would read two lines and they would be sung; then two more lines would be read. This customer continued so long it assumed the sacredness of holy writ, and later there was a good deal of dissension on the evils of “continuous singing.”

Continuing here narrative, Grandmother says: “Thus the time passed until 1823, when Mr. (Robert Adam Holliday) Lusk, who had been sent out as a missionary, came and tarried with us two weeks preaching several times during the stay and dispensing the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper on the Sabbath. The society succeeded in building a meeting house – not a great one by any means. Samuel Brown and Wm. G. Reid (her brother) were the elders who dispensed the elements at the first sacrament. Session meetings for choosing and ordaining elders were held at my mother’s house. In 1824 Mr. Lusk was installed.”

The Mr. Lusk Grandmother mentions was the Rev. Robert Adam Holliday Lusk, D.O. and M.D. From the general catalogue of Washington and Jefferson College, we get the following record: “Robt. Lusk, Class of 1810, Jefferson College, Washington, PA, son of Wm. And Elizabeth (Holliday) Lusk. Born near Londonderry, Ireland, March 8, 1781. Theological Seminary, Philadelphia. Pastor Chambersburg, Pa., 1816-1824, Walnut ridge, Ind., 1824-1840. Married 1816, Mary Thompson, also 1824, Mary Reid. Died Walnut Ridge, December 14, 1845.” No mention is made here of his medical studies, but if I remember Father’s statement correctly, he completed the course at the American Eclectic at Philadelphia.

He returned to Pennsylvania after his visit mentioned by Grandmother and in 1824, returned to take up his residence here. I find that Father related the history of this trip as follows: “As I remember hearing it told, Father chartered, or had built for himself a flat-boat and came down the Ohio River bringing with him, besides his two motherless daughters, John I. Morrison, the McClay family and others. He also brought to the wilderness of Indiana what was for that day, a very large library, in including scientific works, particularly higher mathematical works, and also works in the languages of Greek and Latin, religious and medical work, etc. My recollection is that when the library was appraised after Father’s death, it was found to contain eleven-hundred (1,100) volumes.

John I. Morrison studied under Grandfather after coming to Indiana and his first teaching was in the log church built by Grandfather’s congregation. In the last conversation my Father had with Mr. Morrison, Mr. Morrison spoke of Grandfather Lusk as the beat classical scholar that ever came over the mountains.

The log church had been erected by the little cemetery started with the burial of Isaiah Reid and the residence of the first pastor was built on land he had entered just south of the Reid farm and stood about one quarter of a mile from the church and home. So it came about in a few months that Mary Reid, aged 18, became the bride of the minister, who was then nearing middle life.

It certainly was a responsible position she assumed for one so young. That of minister’s wife no doubt carried its duties even in the wilderness and in addition, there were two children, Hannah Anne and Mary Jane to mother. Of all the beautiful things in Grandmother’s life, none was more beautiful than her relations with the two daughters.

At the age of eighteen, Hannah Anne was married to Grandfather’s brother Isaiah and they established a home on what is still known as the “Reid place.” The most intimate and loving relations always existed between the two homes. Mary Jane assisted her sister in the rearing of a large family, assuming the place of mother to the younger ones who were small when Hannah Anne died. She out-lived Grandmother several years.

Much of Grandmother’s time in her early married life I’ve been told was spent in the study of Grandfather’s library and no doubt it was at that time under the instruction of her husband that she laid the foundation for her successful work as a medical practitioner.

One by one, babies came to Grandmother’s home until there were nine: Margaret, Samuel, Elizabeth, Zella, Wm. Reid, Robert, Isaiah, Isabelle and David.

In addition to his work in the local church and clearing his land, Grandfather continued his missionary work to some extent riding his black horse “Dave” into Illinois, Ohio, back to Philadelphia, and even to New York to Synod. So Grandmother’s responsibilities were doubled with him away so much.

I have heard Father say he never heard his father address Grandmother in any only as “My Dear” and never with any impatience or irritation. Grandmother always spoke of “Mr. Lusk” with high and loving regard, but she did speak of being “vexed” once when a prominent minister of the church was visiting Grandfather.

It was sugar-camp time and Grandmother slipped away to the camp to help with the work there expecting Grandfather and guest to spend the afternoon in the study. She “reckoned without her host” however, for Mr. Lusk and guest presently sauntered into camp. Grandmother said, “I was embarrassed and vexed at Mr. Lusk” but greeted them with the following:

I would not have a slave to till my ground,

To carry me, to fan me while I sleep

And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth

That sinews bought and sold have ever earned.

No, dear, as freedom is an din my heart’s

Just estimation prized above all price

I had much rather be myself the slave

And wear the bonds than fasten them on here.

The visiting divine then complimented Grandfather on having a wife who could run a sugar camp and quote Cowper at the same time.

The Lusk library was not used selfishly. Speaking of his father’s books my father said, “It being the only library in the community, the young men of the neighborhood who found themselves thirsting for educational advantages came to our house to consult Father’s books, and a number of them not only studied but recited to Father.”

Grandfather never conducted a school himself, but Grandmother taught several private terms. Mrs. Nancy Brown used to tell of attending a term Grandmother taught in her home – half day sessions – when Grandmother had an unweaned baby. The baby was cared for by the daughter Margaret in another room. About the middle of the afternoon, Aunt Margaret would bring a bowl of hot coffee and Grandmother would pass it around the room and give each child a spoonful before drinking it herself. Mr. Brown could remember that Mr. Lusk substituted some days for Grandmother.

Later, Mrs. Brown went to school to Grandmother when she taught all day. Mrs. Brown’s daughter thinks the later term was also in the home. Grandmother’s daughter Zella in a paper written some years before her death states that the first school she attended was in the Covenanter Church and her mother was the teacher. In the Steven’s history, it is stated she also taught in the McClaskey Schoolhouse. She taught in an old house on my father’s place for the older grandchildren and in her home later for us younger ones. Mrs. Brown used to say that Grandmother’s teaching covered the widest field of knowledge of any school she ever attended.

In 1840 the relations between Grandfather and his church were dissolved and in the fall of 1845 preparations were underway to remove the family to Ohio, where a call had been accepted, when death intervened and Grandfather was laid to rest in the little cemetery.

Grandmother and the nine children continued on the farm, and the following years were probably her hardest. Most of the children were too young to be of help and the days had not come when there was much remunerative employment for young women. Samuel had not only prepared himself to teach, but had also learned surveying under Mr. Morrison, who often made Uncle his deputy. The older daughters taught when schools were to be obtained, but there was then opposition to women teachers if men could be had. My father, Wm. Reid, who was 12 when his father died, shouldered the responsibility of the farm work and also prepared himself to teach. Later, the younger daughter Belle, also taught.

During the years when here children were growing to manhood and womanhood, even before Grandfather’s death, Grandmother was active in her medical ministrations. In reply to questions addressed to my aunt, she says:

“Mother’s medical practice was in full force as long ago as I can remember. She certainly went at call day and night, far and near, and had no more hesitance in starting home at midnight if her work were done than any other doctor. Her brother, Dr. Reid of Salem, often instructed his patients to call her instead of sending for him again. Dr. Henderson, well known in that day, was a warm friend and admirer.

While Grandfather was a medical graduate, I’ve never heard of his having an active practice in Indiana. His main work was as pastor of the church, but he no doubt used his knowledge in ministering to the needs of his people out on the frontier where it was hard to get a physician and that is probably the way Grandmother’s work started. I asked Cousin Mary Reid Sillum (?) (Grandmother’s beloved granddaughter-niece) as to whether Grandmother’s ministrations began before the death of Rev. Lusk. She thinks Grandmother did not visit or prescribe until after Grandfather was gone, except to accompany him when she could leave home or the case was serious “and assist by such ministrations as only a tender, loving, sympathetic nurse can give.”

It was through Aunt’s and Cousin’s letters, I first learned that Grandmother was a licensed practitioner and a member of the Country Medical Society. It seems that her practice before the Civil War had no legal status and she had no way of getting compensation unless it was freely given. In speaking of the kind treatment of the doctors, Cousin Mary says:

“Dr. Harve Henderson, more almost than any other physician of the county, was especially kind and courteous to Grandmother, not only as a fine worthy woman, but also as a physician. With Grandfather away, of course, his mantle fell upon his helpmate. Taking up his work in addition to her own proved very strenuous to Grandmother, and to make it harder, she received little or no compensation. But this did not deter her from going whenever or wherever called; for she, like her master, ‘went about doing good.’ Dr. Henderson seeing the injustice of conditions and knowing how well-qualified she was to practice medicine set on foot a plan to have her issued a license after which, she could make charges legally.”

She was also made a member of the Washington County Medical Society at the time her license was issued. Grandmother was always on good terms with the doctors. In later years, she and Dr. Thomas Tucker worked together and held each other in the highest regard. She and Dr. Rathun were also excellent friends and co-workers.

One story I used to hear her tell was of being called to my Grandfather Burcham’s when he and Grandmother were both sick. The ground was covered with ice and it was too slick for her to ride. Two Irish boys, Jimmie and Pat Mahan, who were working for Grandfather Burcham, went to her home and led her all the way over the ice, having a steep hill to climb. They, of course, did a good deal of sliding and falling, but all enjoyed it and Grandmother and Jimmie used to talk it over when they would meet.

Years later, when Jimmie Mahan was wealthy and could consult the best medical talent, his wife went into a decline and he came for Grandmother, and she spent several days in his home.

Grandmother, as Aunt mentioned, was perfectly fearless and once when the word came that someone was very ill at the home f her daughter Belle, she had no horse to ride, Mr. James Rice, had some horses in the pasture adjoining the Lusk barnyard. So an unbroken colt was caught and Grandmother rode it the distance of about two miles and back. When she saw Mr. Rice, she told him she had broken his colt for him to ride.

The Covenanter Church did not long continue after Grandfather left it, and after it ceased to exist, Grandmother no longer attended church services on Sabbath. The vow taken when uniting with the Covenanter Church prohibited attendance at another church. So, except for the occasional visit of a minister who preached in her home, Grandmother and family conducted their Sabbath worship themselves. The day, how----------

The end of the story was misplaced.

This story was taken from the Salene Democrat, Wed. 6-27-1923.