By Barbara Arrindell
The cornerstone of the Bethesda Methodist Church may lead you to believe that the work of the church began in 1871 but a sign not far away reminds us that there was a structure on the hill as far back as 1813. A short drive around the corner is the more recent site of the relocated, although since abandoned, Bethesda School. This we are told is to become in September 2025 a school of agriculture.
On Sunday we will discuss the use of the site, the benefits and challenges associated with the establishment of such a school at that site and all that is needed to make it a thriving, successful institution.
An old mill nearby, in need of maintenance suggests that this area, as is the case with much of the island, is no stranger to agriculture. The old mill is a reminder of what some saw as king sugar and others saw as the reason for chattel slavery in our region.
The village of Bethesda and the church took their names from a schoolhouse that was built on a peaceful hill for the purpose of educating enslaved people and others who did not have access to education.
Our oral history and titbits written down by travellers of that era, suggests to us that the story of Bethesda is linked to two black enslaved men Henry and Vigo, two “free coloured” women Elizabeth and Ann and their two white husbands, Charles and John.
We meet Henry in the writings of the Hart Sisters when they speak of attending a church service one Sunday morning in the drawing room at the John Lyons’ estate. The story is told that after the officiant had ended the service, they could still hear voices singing hymns. Those assembled went to explore, to find the source of the praise and worship. They found an enslaved man who they referred to as Old Black Henry leading the estate children. He was teaching them the catechism and the hymns of the faithful. Elizabeth Hart-Thwaites and her husband Charles were by that time already deeply involved in offering basic education to children through Sunday school classes. There they did what Henry was doing and where possible taught children their letters moving them towards the ability to read the bible.
This discovery of an enslaved man teaching enslaved children whatever he had picked up, perhaps while transporting estate owners to services and having to wait outside for them, may have surprised the group.
Charles asked Henry to assemble all the children from neighbouring estates who were being taught in this manner. To Charles’ surprise when the requested assembly of teachers and students took place it was not the handful expected but instead it was hundreds of our children who were being taught. They were being taught something/anything by someone/anyone who knew a little bit more than they did. This was taking place prior to May 29, 1813 when Bethesda was opened. We can be confident that this chance encounter with HENRY (the old black man), HENRY THE BRAVE EDUCATOR fuelled their desire to establish a more permanent school.
We don’t know how they met or got to know Vigo the head slave on Blakes estate but we are told that he approached them pointing out that the little hill was not used to grow cane and so he offered to ask the estate owners permission to use it to build a structure that would be used for the sole purpose of educating enslaved and other needy people.
We’re told that it took about 6 weeks / 42 days for Vigo and his associates to build the schoolroom overlooking Willoughby Bay which opened its doors to students on Saturday May 29, 1813. More than 300 men, women and children gathered there most evenings after the 44ft by 16ft building with its earthen floor and roof made of the trash of sugar cane was built.
During the day few enslaved people could attend, but Elizabeth and Charles devised a system of educating the maimed and old enslaved people who were no longer fit for labour. They became assistant teachers in the evenings, each taking smaller groups, teaching what they had been taught earlier.
Initially it was simply called the Schoolhouse. Along the way the name Bethesda was given to it. As can be expected the simple structure would have been replaced many times and we’re told that there were occasions for temporary relocation but Bethesda lived on.
After emancipation, free black people established the village so that they could live near to the Schoolhouse.
The question we ask now is, does this school of agriculture represent a continuation of the work of Henry and Vigo and Elizabeth and Ann and their husbands? Will their names be mentioned as the new institution moves forward? Will the standards set there in the future make it a hallowed place, a place of learning? Will it continue in the spirit of Bethesda?