Diane Bender, POB 178, Washington Grove, MD 20880 (301)948-0133 exeline@alumni.gwu.edu http://www.genealogy.com/users/b/e/n/Diane-Bender/ 30 Mar 2011 transcription of original booklet at McDaniel College archives, Westminster, MD A BRIEF NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE AND DEATH OF THE LATE ULYSSES B. WARD. BY HIS BROTHER, REV. J. T. WARD, Pastor of the Ninth Street M. P. Church, Washington, D. C. WASHINGTON: GIDEON & PEARSON, PRINTERS. 1864. OBITUARY. It becomes my painful duty to record the death of one of my own dear brothers according to the flesh; and to his precious memory I would fain pay a worthy tribute of respect. The grief I feel for the loss of his presence is so intense as almost to unfit me for writing, and yet I cannot refrain from attempting the performance of a duty so becoming, and which, even though it be but poorly executed, may, with God's blessing, accomplish some good. The facts of the narrative I am about to give, will reveal to the reader, as well my apology for the frequent references to myself, as the reasons for my special attachment to, and peculiar interest in, the beloved subject of this notice; and I trust the lessons afford by his life and death, lessons both of instruction and warning, will not fail to make the salutary impression they are certainly calculated to impart. Ulysses Beall Ward, the youngest son of the Rev. Ulysses and Susan V. Ward, of the City of Washington, departed this life, at his residence in that city, after a few days illness, on Tuesday afternoon, June 28th, 1864. He was born in the same city July 29th, 1833, and was therefore at the time of his death, aged 31 years, less one month and one day. When he was about seven years of age, our parents saw fit to commit this dear brother mainly to my care, as regards his education; and he pursued his elementary studies under my humble training until the spring of 1841, when I left the good old home to go forth into the itinerant ministry. This separated us for four years, during which I had no settled place of abode; but we kept up a regular correspondence, and in 1845, when I was stationed in the city of Cumberland, Md., he was again placed under my charge and resumed his studies. During 1846 and 1847 he was with me in Washington, partly employed in the further prosecution of his studies, and partly in assisting in the business connected with the publication of the "Fountain" newspaper, which was devoted to the Temperance cause, and for the columns of which he wrote his first published compositions [footnote 2] Shortly after my removal to the city of Philadelphia, in the spring of 1848, he again entered upon his studies with me there, and pursued them until he finished the course. He was then for some time engaged in learning the printing business in that city; but his health requiring a more active life, he at length returned to his native place, and became connected with our brother, John Beverly Ward, merchandising in lumber, and keeping the books of the establishment. While he was thus employed, I called his attention, in one of my letters to him, to the valuable and beautiful art of Phonography. He at once desired me to procure him the necessary books, and in an almost incredibly short time made himself master of the art, so that he could report almost any speaker verbatim, and took great delight especially in reporting the sermons which he heard, many specimens of which labor he afterwards sent me from time to time, and which I have carefully preserved. His remarkable talent for and accomplishments in reporting becoming known to gentlemen of that profession, he was gradually led to form acquaintance with them, and at length became himself a regular reporter, resigning his former business for that purpose. At the time of his death he was one of the Senate reporters for the Associated Press. [footnote 2] The following lines, written in his twelfth year, were the first he gave to the press: -- THE GLORIOUS CAUSE BY U. B. WARD Speed on, speed on thou glorious Temperance Cause, That saves the drunkard from a dreadful death; Received on every hand with loud applause, And gladly hailed at every fireside hearth. Fling forth thy banner to the passing breeze, And let it wave on every grateful shore; It gives a nation happiness and peace-- O may it wave now and forevermore! It keeps the people from a thousand snares And saves from drunkenness and deep distress; 'Twill greatly lengthen out our peaceful years, And make each home a place of happiness. It is a melancholy reflection that the sentiments of this piece were not duly remembered and retained by the beloved author during a portion of his after life; but, by the grace of God, he was at last brought to see the grievous since of yielding to the tempter, and to seek for pardon and renewed acceptance, which I fully believe he found, through the merits of the dear Redeemer: my reasons for which belief will be found in the sequel--J. T. W. -- Ulysses was a sincere lover of his country, and diligently employed his ready pen in the advocacy of principles in regard thereto, which I am sure must have had the hearty sanction of every true patriot; and to maintain which principles he manifested his desire by deeds of sacrifice as well as words of power. [see footnote 1] His letters for the press were eagerly read and much admired by the lovers of loyalty, truth, and right, although they knew not the author of those letters. But it would be out of place for me to dwell at length upon this point at present. Those who read this article will be most concerned to have some of the facts in regard to the moral and religious history of the dear departed. [footnote 1: *The Washington correspondent of the Baltimore Sun, who signs himself "Potomac," in his letter of June 20th, pays the following just and friendly tribute to the memory of the deceased: "The death of Mr. Ulysses B. Ward, who, during the present session, has been one of the Associated Press reporters in the United States Senate, was a melancholy surprise to his professional associates and many friends. He died most unexpectedly on Tuesday evening. He had labored at his post up to the middle of last week, when, becoming indisposed from the recurrence of symptoms of an old disease contracted in Gen. McClellan's peninsular campaign as an army correspondent, he was compelled to retire, with the expectation on the part of all that he would return in a few days to his duties; but the decree is sadly otherwise. Mr. Ward possessed fine accomplishments in his profession, and was actuated by just purposes and a generous spirit. He was a son of the Rev. Ulysses Ward, of this city, one of the oldest of Washington's resident."] From early boyhood he was fond of religious associations. Indeed it would have been strange had he not been so. Our dear parents had trained him, as they did all of us, their children, in all godly discipline and admonition; and we scarcely had knowledge of any other than godly associations and exercises in the old homestead, where, morning and evening, every day, our beloved parents led us in holy songs and fervent prayers, and read to us from the pages of inspiration. My dear departed brother was early awakened by the Spirit of God to a sense of his sinfulness and need of salvation. His conscience was tender, and he quickly perceived the guilt of my departure from the ways of virtue. When reproofs were administered to him kindly, he was candid in acknowledging his faults and seeking pardon, whether the wrong was committed against God directly or against his relatives or others. On one occasion when our dear father had reason to fear that he had practiced deception, and wrote to him on the subject, his young heart at once relented under the faithful and affectionate warning and counsel given, and he wrote as follows: "PHILADELPHIA, May 27th, 1848. "MY DEAR FATHER: I have just received your letter, and hasten to answer it. I did feel gloomy at your not coming to see us, as I intended to tell you what you ask in your letter. I assure you that it is the burden and guilt of sin on my own conscience that makes me feel gloomy. My dear father, no wonder that you feel gloomy, when you have such an unworthy son as I. If I should receive a punishment, it would be nothing more than I deserve. I am not worthy to be called your son. You feel a great anxiety for my welfare I know, and also for the welfare of all the rest of your children, all of whom are far more deserving than I am. "If I could call back my past actions, I would do so, that I might mend them or blot them out, but this I know is impossible. The most I can do is to pray to my heavenly Father, that He would forgive me my past sins and give me grace to prevent me from sinning again. Oh, father! I have deceived you often." He then proceeds to detail minutely every instance in which he had been guilty of deception, and adds: "I do hope that this humble confession which I make of my own accord will have some tendency to dispel the darkness and gloom from your heart. And oh! what a load of guilt it will take from me! It is not merely in confession to you; but I must confess my guilt before God and ask His forgiveness. "What shall I do, my dear father, to wash away this stain in your sight? If a course of good conduct and honest principles can wash it away, I will (God helping me) try to practice this course. These words come from the bottom of my heart. I feel as if I had sinned against God, and I must ask Him to forgive my sins, and if I ask Him aright I know He will, for the sake of Christ who died for me. I feel a great deal better than I did. Your letter did me good, though the review of these things is painful. I hope the like many never occur again. "I feel a great concern for your welfare, and I will endeavor for the future to conduct myself as a son ought to do. Please forgive me for the past. "I hope you will write to me often, and I will try to keep your good advice. Tell mother I will fulfill the promise I made, to 'read a chapter in the Bible every day.' Pray for me, my dear parents. Give my love to all. "Your affectionate son, ULYSSES B. WARD. [to] "REV. U. WARD." In September, 1852, being then in business with our brother, John Beverly Ward, in Washington, he made a public consecration of himself to God, during a series of meetings held in the Foundry M. E. Church, under the ministry of the Rev. Dr. Peck, then pastor, and united with said church, disclaiming, however, any approval of that feature of the M. E. Church policy which excludes laymen from the legislative councils of the Church. Several other members of our family having joined the church at the same time, he thus wrote to me of the scene: "WASHINGTON, Sept. 28, 1852. "MY DEAR BROTHER: I write at this time because I have good news to communicate; news that will make your heart leap for joy! I know it will gratify you to learn that all our family have professed the Saviour. Such is the gratifying fact. My youngest sister, Anna, and sister-in-law, Louisa, found their sins all pardoned on Monday night; and, blessed be God, they say that my example led them to seek him. Oh! I am thankful that I have been the feeble instrument of some good. I found the Saviour last Sunday, and I feel thankful to Go for His mercy to me. Oh! what a joyful time we had last night, after our return from the Foundry! Mother wept for joy when I told her the news. Brother, I hope you will pray for us, that w may never fall from our high estate. "Your brother, ULYSSES B. WARD." While in the same happy frame of devotion to God and His cause, my dear brother visited us in Philadelphia, and there was great joy among the people of my charge to witness the evidences of the glorious change God had wrought in him. Not long after his conversion he was honored by his brethren at the Foundry with official position; and, both as steward and class leader, he enjoyed the confidence and love of all, and was as useful as he was acceptable. This I have from those who knew him well during that most precious portion of his life. He was also connected with the Foundry choir, being a good singer, and exceedingly fond of music, both vocal and instrumental, to the study of which he had given considerable attention. There are few enjoyments more refining and refreshing than those which music, rightly employed, affords; and among the many pleasant hours spent with the dear departed, by his relatives and friends, none were more so than those during which his melodious voice helped to swell the chorus of praise to God. I should like to quote largely from his letters to myself and other members of the family during that period of his earnest devotion to Christ, but it would make this article too long. Suffice it to say those letters would do credit to his memory, and be read with thrilling interest by any intelligent Christian. On the 1st of November, 1855, I was honored with a call to perform the marriage ceremony for my brother and Miss Anne Waters, daughter of the late Elkana Waters, long a worthy official member of the M. E. Church. The ceremony was performed in the presence of a numerous assembly of relatives and friends of the parties in the Foundry Church. This my brother justly spoke of in his letter to me as "a most important epoch" in his life, and one upon which he did not enter without serious consideration of the increased responsibilities it would bring upon him, as well as pleasant anticipations of the joys it would impart. Three lovely children graced this union--two fine boys and a precious daughter, all of whom survive their noble father, and are left to the care of their now widowed young mother. May God enable her to train them up in His service, that they may prove a blessing to her in after life, and that they are she may be prepared, through grace, for the glorious home above, into which, I believe, the dear departed one has entered. It is proper, however painful, for me to record the fact that subsequent to the period of holy living and Christian enjoyment in my brother's history, to which I have referred, he unfortunately wandered into the paths of dissipation; not, indeed, so far as, at any time, wholly to give up his attachment to the Saviour, but yet so far as to mar greatly the otherwise charming picture of his religious life. Even amid his wanderings, however, there was a nobleness of character manifested which it is very relieving to consider. I think the very yielding disposition of his nature was, in part at least, the occasion--I do not say the cause--of his declension. He was, alas! too easy to be led and not being able wholly to avoid mingling with worldly persons, who either never possessed or else had lost the fear of God, some of them seem to have determined to lead him, so far as their influence would go, to the same destruction, which, unless they repeat and turn to Go, as he did at last, certainly awaits them. Had not God, in wonderful mercy, interposed, and "bade him, at the point to die, behold His face and live," he would have been forever ruined. But God did rescue his soul, and "he escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowler." When I first became fully aware of his departure from the virtuous way he had in former years pursued, which was not until sometime after the commencement of his declension, I ventured to write him a letter, so plain and pointed that I hardly knew how to guard it with such expressions of affection as to prevent its offending him. But his prompt response was in terms that overcame me with admiration of his nobleness of soul: "WASHINGTON, Dec. 31st., 1863. "MY DEAR BROTHER THOMAS: Your letter came yesterday, and I thank you sincerely for the kind and brotherly advice and counsel contained in its pages. This advice, at the time of rash and reckless habits, fell upon my heart like the dew of Hermon, and the holy oil which ran down Aaron's beard. I am glad, my dear brother, to perceive by the general spirit and tone of your letter that you appreciate enough the strong love I bear you, to say to me what is uppermost in your mind of benefit to me temporally and eternally. You would be less than my brother, and in my opinion wanting in your fidelity as a minister of Christ, if you had failed to write what you have written." The letter from which I make this extract was the last, but one, that I received from my dear brother. I was then living in Libertytown, Maryland. In March, 1864, I came to live and labor in the ministry in Washington, anticipating, among other pleasures, that of having frequent interviews with, and doing some good to, my dear brother. But he was so constantly occupied with his labors at the Capitol that I had seldom an opportunity of enjoying his fellowship, always so dear to me; and ere the period when I had hoped he would be more at leisure, he was, in the order of an all-wise, though to us inscrutable Providence, suddenly called to his last account. Notwithstanding he had sadly declined from the virtuous path in which he long walked with so much honor and usefulness, his brethren at the Foundry seem never wholly to have given up their kind and charitable hope of his ultimate return to the Saviour, and therefore retained his name on the church record. All his relatives thank them for this, while he, no doubt, realizes in the spirit world the bearing that kind course had upon his destiny there; and we who survive him do most devotedly adore and bless God for the evidence we have that the hope of his brethren was not a vain hope; for, during his last illness, notwithstanding the nature of his disease caused great destruction of mind, there were lucid intervals, and in one of these intervals I had the unspeakable gratification of an interview with him which satisfied me that God, in the richness of His grace, had imparted to him a renewed preparation for that better country--the heavenly-- The land upon whose blissful shore There rests no shadow, falls no stain; Where those who meet shall part no more, And those long parted meet again. "My dear brother," said he to me, in that last interview, which was only a few hours before his death, "I know that I have been a great sinner; but I have repented, and do repent, looking to God for pardon and full salvation, through the alone merits and righteousness of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; and I do believe that God has accepted me, and I feel that I have the witness of His spirit, and that when I die I shall be admitted, through grace, into the heavenly home. I want you and our dear parents to pray for me, and tell our dear brother Beverly to seek a high state of grace that he may join you in your prayers." He shortly afterwards tenderly embraced his little daughter Edith, (who had then, as had also his wife and his mother-in-law, entered the room,) and bade her farewell, saying: "Pa is going away to a far country; be a good girl and love God and serve him better than your pa has done." These and other fondly-remembered words did I hear fall from the lips of my brother in his dying hours; and I cannot doubt that, through grace, he is now enjoying the bliss of a better life. I do not think we ought to mourn as if we had no hope in his case. Upon his countenance, as he lay shrouded in the coffin, we all observed the placid smile, and I believe the spirit of my dear brother rests "where the wicked cease from troubling," and that the body, which we followed to Greenwood Cemetery and deposited with decent solemnity in the family lot there, will "be raised up at the last day," made "incorruptible," "clothed upon with immortality," and "fashioned like unto the glorious body of our Lord and Saviour." The funeral rites for the deceased were most tenderly and appropriately conducted by the Rev. Dr. Ryan, the present pastor of the Foundry Church, and the Rev. Dr. Nadall, at this time pastor at the Wesley Chapel, but formerly at the Foundry, both of whom were acquainted, the latter very intimately, with my dear brother, of whom they justly spoke as "one of the most noble of men, although not without fault." They earnestly exhorted as to emulate his virtues and avoid his errors, and I pray that God may enable us so to do, and bring us at last in peace to meet and dwell together forever, in the home above, for Christ's sake. Amen. "Our hearts are fastened to this world By strong and endless ties, And every sorrow cuts a string, And urges us to rise. "When God would kindly set us free, And earth's enchantment end, He takes the most effectual means, And robs us of a friend. "Since vain all here, all future vast, Embrace the lot assigned; Heaven wounds to heal, its frowns are friends, Its strokes severe, most kind. "To final good the worse events Through secret channels run, Finish for saints their destined course, As 'twas for saints begun. "O for that summit of my wish Whilst here I draw my breath,-- That promise of eternal life, A glorious smile in death." =end=