... I have never done anything that was not helpful to woman so far as
it lay in my power. (April 2, 1886.)
Letters to Miss Anna Warren Story (Chairman of Executive Committee of
the Woman's Press Club of New York)
HILL FARM COTTAGE, HERSHAM,
WALTON-ON-THAMES, ENGLAND,
Oct. 29, 1900.
My dear Executive:
Your letter giving me all the news to date was most kind and welcome.
It seems very strange to be away from you all in this secluded corner
of Surrey, with nothing in sight but woods, a meadow in which cows are
grazing, and one neighboring cottage. My morning walk, when the
weather will admit of walking, is along the old post road lined with
woods and at the foot of our little lane or entrance to farm. The
other morning one solemn old cow put her head through the fence, and
stared with amazement at my crutches. Four others walked over to see
what she was looking at; and they all stood in a row, looking and
making no sound as long as I could see them. It was very funny.
It seems so odd after so many years of continuous and often hurried
work, to be using days for walking, and little things that since I was
a grown woman have been crowded into odds and ends of time, or omitted
for want of enough of it. I am gaining strength, however, and realize
how complete the prostration was, and how radical the reconstructive
processes had to be. The seclusion in which I live, surrounded by pine
woods, a mile and a half from the nearest post office (tho' a postman
brings our letters) and an equal distance from such supplies as a
village can afford, is a little trying in some ways, but a real boon
to me in my present condition.
It would have been very easy to plunge into the activities of women in
London. Many invitations have reached me, but I have been nowhere but
to one little dinner given by our only neighbor, the wife of a London
editor, and herself a popular story writer.
I can walk now with one crutch and a stick, and begin to hope for
complete restoration, which at one time seemed to me impossible. But,
oh, how tedious and wearing it is! We have an unusually fine October
for England, but gray skies and almost daily rains now. But the Surrey
country is beautiful, full of quaint old villages and objects of
picturesque interest. I am longing for the time and the weather to
explore it. I could write all day about my gradually growing desire to
be "up and doing." But time and space do not admit. Let me say in one
word how deeply I was touched by the action of the Executive
Committee, the Governing Board, and club. But I am also disappointed.
I wanted to leave the field clear, and have new energy put into the
club by bringing into active and central circulation the young, best
blood we possess. Thank you for your assurance that as far as possible
that will be done; and thank every officer and every member in my
behalf for the long and affectionate confidence they have reposed in
me, and for the many acts of personal kindness I have received from
them.
I am sorry you have lost the Countess by removal, and other valuable
members by death...
Yours faithfully and affectionately,
J.C. CROLY
NORFOLK VILLA, WEYBRIDGE, SURREY,
August 20, 1901.
My dear Anna:
Your letter came most opportunely. I had been thinking about you, the
Press Club, and my dear friends at home; for somehow I have not felt
the old pleasure in being in England, and if I had a home to come back
to, and my goods and chattels were not so far off, I should have come
back, I think, this autumn.
For one thing, the weather has not been favorable. We had such warm
weather in July; but every month has had a week or more of very cold
and wet weather. In Ober-Ammergau on the 8th of July we perished with
the cold, and the rain almost caked in ice upon us. Still, even such
weather could not spoil Ober-Ammergau. It is the one thing of its kind
on earth, and the nearest to an absolutely perfect thing I ever saw. A
great charm is the unconsciousness of the performers. They do not play
to an audience. There are no footlights, nothing theatrical; only the
Great Tragedy wrought out as a living reality. I think of all the
scenes; the one that made the deepest impression upon me was the one
in which there were the fewest actors and least acting. That was the
Garden of Gethsemane. So intense was the agony of spirit, that it
seemed as if I myself should cry out if the disciples had not gone
away and left the Saviour alone to his mortal struggle.
It is a great thing, Anna, that these people have done. They have
lived the Passion of Christ for nearly three hundred years. They are
born in it; they are fed upon it. They have made a cult of religion;
and they are absolutely religious, but not in the least sectarian. The
Christ they have lifted up draws all men unto him.
I have been in a quiet country place for four weeks, and shall stay
two weeks longer... If I remain this winter we shall probably go back
to Paris by November and to Italy in the spring. Now that I am here I
might as well give myself this one more chance... I was very tired
when I came back from our hurried trip, and was very glad of rest and
quiet...
Do not let my dear friends in the Press Club build upon me, or weaken
their force by re-electing me. Elect a young, strong, press woman.
Anna, do this without any reference to personal feeling or likes or
dislikes. You are capable of acting impersonally. Beg the club to do
this in my name, and to pick out their best for the chairmen of their
representative committees.
My own dear friends and fellow members; how I wish I could make them
feel the strength of my desire for their growth in wisdom and honor.
God bless them all!
Yours affectionately and faithfully,
J.C. CROLY.
ASHOVER, DERBYSHIRE,
May 30, 1901.
My dear Anna:
Your kind letter arrived this morning, forwarded by Mrs. Sidney to
this remote village in Derbyshire. I left London ten days ago because
I had to get fresh air and quiet. Ashover is a quiet little village; a
paradise of meadows starred with flowers, and wooded and cultivated;
hills in which all the treasures of one of the richest counties in
England (in floral wealth) are to be found. When I came here there
were still primroses, cowslips, violets, forget-me-nots, and fields
white with small daisies and yellow with buttercups. Now there are
masses of yarrow, marguerites, rhododendrons, bluebells, and great
trees of white and purple lilacs. Roses, I am told, will cover
everything by and by, but development is a little late this year. I
wish you could spend a month here this summer: what a revelation of
English beauty it would be to you!
Thank you for your sympathy with my personal troubles. I am not
unhappy... The goodness of women to me is always and everywhere
miraculous. This alone makes life worth living...
I am rejoiced to hear of the Press Club's prosperity. Nothing could
give me greater pleasure than to know of its constant growth and
advancement.
With love, ever yours,
J. C. CROLY.