All that he had accumulated in a lifetime of hard work and careful planning was swept away, and there was scarcely a spot of solid ground upon which he could plant his feet to begin the struggle once more.
In her diary, speaking of an aunt who sympathizes with them and says it will be hard to give up going with the people they have been accustomed to, Susan observes, "I do not think that losing our property will cause us ever to mingle with low company." She is now somewhat uncertain about taking up teaching permanently, fearing she will "lose the habit of using the plain language;" but May 22, 1838, she writes at Union Village, now Greenwich: On last evening, which was First day, I again left my home to mingle with strangers, which seems to be my sad lot.

Separation was rendered more trying on account of the embarrassing condition of our business affairs.

I found my school small and quite disorderly.
O, may my patience hold out to persevere without intermission.
In the summer of 1838 the factory, store, home and much of the furniture had to be given up to the creditors.

Not an article was spared from the inventory.

All the mother's wedding presents, the furniture and the silver spoons given her by her parents, the wearing apparel of the family, even the flour, tea, coffee and sugar, the children's school books, the Bible and the dictionary, were carefully noted.