herself at night, "Now I will stretch out and make myself as long as I
can, so that the robbers will think I am a grown-up person, and perhaps
then they will not touch me!" "Then," she told us, "I would stretch
myself out at full length, and go to sleep."
She was reading Martineau's "Study of Religion" this summer with close
attention and deep interest. His writings gave her unfailing delight.
His portrait hung in her room; on her desk lay always a slender volume
of his "Prayers," her favorite passages marked in pencil. When Louise
Chandler Moulton lay dying, the best comfort she could devise for her
was the loan of this precious little volume.
The "Study of Religion" is not light reading. We find now and then:
"Head threatening. Will not tackle Martineau to-day"; and again: "My
head is possessed with my study of Martineau. Had a moment's realizing
sense this morning of the universe as created and constantly re-created
by the thought of the will of God. The phrase is common enough: the
thought, vast beyond human conception."
When her head was clear, she studied the great theologian eagerly,
copying many passages for more complete assimilation.
September brought "alarums and excursions."
"Awoke and sprang at once into the worry saddle."
Another Congress was coming, another "A.A.W." paper to be written,
beside an opening address for the Mechanics' Fair, and "1500 words for
Bok," on some aspect of the American woman.
She went to Boston for the opening of the Mechanics' Fair, and sat
beside Phillips Brooks in the great hall. "They will not hear us!" she
said. "No," replied Brooks. "This is the place where little children are
_seen_ and not _heard_."
"Mayor Hart backed up the Tariff while I praised Free Trade. My text was
two words of God: 'Use and Beauty.' My brief address was written
carefully though hastily."
There was no neighborly electric road in Rhode Island in those days, and
the comings and goings were fatiguing.
"A hard day.... The rain was pitiless, and I in my best clothes, and
without rubbers. Embraced a chance of driving to the Perry House, where
... it was cold and dark. I found a disconsolate couple from Schenectady
who had come to Newport for a day's pleasuring. Did my best to entertain
them, walking about the while to keep warm."
She got home finally, and the day ends with her ordering a warm mash for
the horse.
This horse, Ha'pence, a good and faithful beast, ran a great danger
this summer. The coachman, leaving in dudgeon, poisoned the oats with
Paris green, a diabolical act which the Journal chronicles with
indignation. Fortunately the deed was discovered in time.
She was always thoughtful of animals. During the reign at 241 Beacon
Street of the little fox-terrier Patch, it often fell to her lot to take
him out to walk, and she felt this a grave responsibility.
One day Patch ran away on Beacon Street, and would not come back when
she called him. At this instant Dr. Holmes, passing, paused for a
friendly greeting.
"Mrs. Howe," he said, "I trust this fine morning--"
"_Catch the dog!_" cried Mrs. Howe. One author flew one way, one the
other; between the two Patch was caught and brought in triumph home.
One dog story recalls another. She was in the North Station one day,
about to start for Gardiner, as was also the setter Diana, crated and
very unhappy.
"Here, Auntie!" said the baggage-master; "you set here and be company
for the dog, and I'll get your check!"
She complied meekly, and was found somewhat later by her escort, "being
company" for a much-comforted Diana.
CHAPTER VII
A SUMMER ABROAD
1892-1893; _aet._ 73-74
Methinks my friends grow beauteous in my sight,
As the years make their havoc of sweet things;
Like the intenser glory of the light
When the sad bird of Autumn sits and sings.
Ah! woe is me! ah! Memory,
Be cheerful, thanking God for things that be.
J. W. H.
The longing to revisit England and enjoy another "whiff" of a London
season was gratified in the summer of 1892. Accompanied by the Elliotts
and a granddaughter, she sailed for Liverpool on the 4th of June; "a day
of almost inconceivable pressure and labor. I could not waste one
minute, yet could not do some of the simplest things which I intended to
do. Our departure was tolerably decorous and comfortable."
"_June 13._ _At sea._ Have enjoyed some good reading, and have read one
book, 'Bel Ami,' by Guy de Maupassant, which I found so objectionable
that I had to skip whole passages of mere sensual description. My
loathing of the book and its personages will keep me from encountering
again the filth of this author...."
"_June 16._ _Chester._ Attended service in the Cathedral. I first came
to Chester as a bride, forty-nine years ago; then in 1867 with dear
Chev, Julia, and Laura; in 1877 with dear Maud; and now with Maud and
her husband and my dear grandchild, Alice Richards. These three periods
in my woman's life gave me much to think of."
* * * * *
June 18 found the party established in pleasant lodgings in Albion
Street, Hyde Park, where they were soon surrounded by friends old and
new.
"_June 21_.... In the afternoon Lady Aberdeen, Arthur Mills, and Henry
Harland visited me. A. M.'s hair is quite white. It was only iron grey
when we last met, thirteen years ago."
"_June 22._ Mrs. Brooke Herford wrote to ask me to come out this
afternoon to meet Mrs. Humphry Ward. The Albert Hall performance very
interesting. Lord Aberdeen sent his carriage for us. My seat was next to
that of the Countess, who appeared in a very fine dress of peach-blossom
corded silk, with white lace draperies--on my left was Lord Brooke. Lady
Aberdeen introduced me to Lord Kenmare and Dr. Barnardo. The singing of
the children, a band of rescued waifs, moved me to tears. The military
drill of the boys and the Maypole dance of the girls were very finely
done. There are more than 4000 of these children in Barnardo Homes."
"_June 23._ To the first view of the Society of English Portrait
Painters. Portraits on the whole well worth seeing--Herkomers _very_
good, also Mrs. Anna Lea Merritt's and others. A superb portrait of
Cardinal Manning, in full red and ermine. In the evening Lady Aberdeen
sent her carriage for me and I went with her to a meeting of the Liberal
League, at which she spoke with a pleasant playfulness, dwelling
somewhat upon the position that Home Rule, if given to Ireland, would do
away with the ill-feeling of the Irish in America towards England. To
lunch with Lady Aberdeen. Lief Jones came into the meeting while Lady
Aberdeen was speaking, and with him Lady Carlisle. She shook hands with
me very cordially. Presently Lief Jones began his address, which was
quite lengthy, presenting the full platform of the Liberal Party. He is
a brisk, adroit speaker, and made points in favor of Woman Suffrage, of
Home Rule, of the disestablishment of the Anglican Church in Wales and
Scotland, of the eight-hour labor law, of the purchase of the
waterworks, now owned by eight companies in the city."
"_June 24._ The lunch at Lady Aberdeen's was very pleasant. Mrs. Eva
McLaren[112] talked with me, as did Miss Ferguson. The American
Minister, Robert Lincoln,[113] was introduced to me and was very
friendly."
[112] Author of _Civil Rights of Women_.
[113] Son of Abraham Lincoln.
"_June 25._ Went to Toynbee Hall by Whitechapel 'bus. Had received a
note, which I supposed to be from a lady, offering to show me over the
institution. We were shown into a large room, bare of carpet, but with
some pictures and bric-à-brac. After waiting half an hour, a young
gentleman made his appearance, a Mr. Ames--the letter had been from him.
He showed me Mr. Charles [not General] Booth's map of gradations of
wealth and poverty in London. The distinctions are marked by colors and
shades of color--criminal centres designated by black. In the afternoon
to Sarasate's concert, all violin and piano-forte, but very fine."
"_June 26._ To hear Stopford Brooke in the morning, an interesting
sermon.... He called the Agnostics and Nirvanists a type found in many
classes, but not a class...."
"_June 27._ To lunch with Mrs. Harland. _Very_ pleasant. Edmund Gosse
was the guest invited to meet me. He was vivacious, easy, and agreeable.
Also the composer Marzials...."
"_June 28._ To Westminster Abbey. To Alice, its interest seemed
inexhaustible. It is so, indeed, had one time to be 'strewing violets
all the time,' as E. B. B. said. Longfellow's bust has been placed there
since my last visit; the likeness is good. I wandered about as long as
my feet would carry me, thinking sometimes of Gray's question, 'Can
storied urn,' etc. The Harlands came later and brought the composer of
'Twickenham Ferry.' With Alice to dine at Toynbee Hall. A pleasant
dinner. A bright young man, Bruce by name, related to Abyssinian Bruce,
took Alice in to dinner--sitting afterwards in Ames's room, where we met
an alderman, a bricklayer, a trades' unionist; later, we heard a lecture
from Commander Gladstone, on the Norman-Breton churches, with fine
stereoscopic plates. A violent storm came on, but we managed to ''bus
it' home, taking a cab only at Marble Arch."
"_June 29._ To dine with the Greek Minister at eight o'clock, and to the
_soirée_ of the Academy.
"To Chelsea, to call upon Mrs. Oscar Wilde.... He showed me with pride
a fine boy of five years. We had some talk of old times, of his visit to
America; I reminded him of the vermilion balcony at which he laughed."
[Wilde had complained that the usual pronunciation of these words was
prosaic.]
"_June 30...._ Mrs. Oscar Wilde asks us to take tea on Thursday; she has
invited Walter Pater.... Have writ to James Bryce."
"_July 2._ To see Oscar Wilde's play, 'Lady Windermere's Fan,' at St.
James's Theatre. We went by invitation to his box, where were Lady Wilde
and Mrs. Oscar. The play was perfectly acted, and is excellent of its
kind, the _motif_ not new, but the _dénouement_ original in treatment.
After the play to call on Lady Rothschild, then to Constance
Flower,[114] who showed us her superb house full of treasures of art."
[114] Lady Battersea.
"_July 4._ Mrs. [Edmund] Gosse came and took us to Alma-Tadema's
beautiful house and garden. He met us very cordially. Mrs. Smalley came.
She was Wendell Phillips's adopted daughter. I had a pleasant talk with
her and with Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, whom I charged with a friendly message
to Thomas himself. After this to Minister Lincoln's Fourth of July
reception. Harry White, Daisy Rutherford's husband, was introduced."
Elsewhere she says of this visit to Alma-Tadema:--
"His charming wife, once seen, explains some of the features of his
works. She has yellow hair of the richest color; her eyes also have a
primrose tint, while her complexion has a pale bloom of its own, most
resembling that of a white rose. She gave us tea from lozenge-shaped
cups, with saucers to match. In the anteroom below we admired a painting
by her own hand, of yellow jonquils and a yellow fan, on a dark
background. Her husband seemed pleased when we praised this picture. So
these two artists occupy their golden nest peaceably, and do not tear
each other's laurels.
"Let me say here that the passion for the golden color still prevails.
In dress, in furniture, in porcelain, it is the prevailing favorite.
Long banished from the social rainbow, it now avenges itself for years
of neglect, and, as every dog must have his day, we will say that the
yellow dog is now to have his, and that the dog-star of this coming
August will certainly be of his color."
"_July 6._ With Maud to Liberty's, where she beguiled me, alas! into
buying a fine black silk mantle for six guineas. To Nutt's in the Strand
for my Greek books. He had only the 'Nicomathean Ethics,' a fine edition
which I bought for twelve shillings. Then to Poole's in Hallowell
Street, where bought two editions of Aristotle's 'Government,' with
English notes. At Poole's found a copy of Schiller's 'Robbers,' which I
bought for threepence."
"_July 7._ Afternoon tea with Mrs. Oscar, meeting an aunt of Mrs.
Wilde's, and Mrs. Burne-Jones. The aunt had been in Japan--she had known
Fenollosa and Professor Morse. Then to Mrs. Louise Chandler Moulton, who
introduced a number of people, among them William Sharp, a poet."
"_July 8._ I had rashly promised to lunch with the Brooke Herfords at
Hampstead, and to take five-o'clock tea with Mrs. Rebecca Moore at
Bedford Place. The Herfords were delightful, and Hampstead is a charming
suburb. We saw the outside of Mrs. Barbauld's house. Herford said much
good of Cookson, a farmer's son whom he had known in England from his
beginnings, a dignified, able, excellent man in his esteem. From this a
long distance to Mrs. Moore. We reached her in good time, however. Found
her alone, in a pleasant little dwelling. Three ladies came to tea,
which was served quite in state--Stepniak[115] came also."
[115] Sergius Stepniak, a Russian author, then a political exile living
in England.
"_July 9._ To lunch with Lady Henry Somerset. Some talk with Lady H.
about Mrs. Fawcett, et al.: also concerning Mrs. Martin's intended
candidacy for the presidency of the United States, which, however futile
in itself, we deplore as tending to throw ridicule upon the Woman's
Cause. She thought that the Conservatives would give women the
Parliamentary Suffrage in England on account of the great number of
women who have joined the Primrose League."
"_July 10._ To the Temple Church. The organ voluntaries, strangely, I
thought, were first Chopin's 'Funeral March,' second the 'Dead March' in
'Saul.' A notable sermon from Dr. Vaughan. The discourse was really
concerned with the political situation of the moment: the strong
division of feeling throughout the country, and the fears of many lest
the doctrine in which they believe should be overthrown. He said that
the real Ark of God was the Church Universal, which has been defined as
the whole company of believing Christian people throughout the world.
Many changes would occur, but the vital principle of religion would
prove itself steadfast--a truly noble sermon, worthy of Phillips
Brooks."
"_July 12._ To the New Gallery in which were two fine portraits by
Herkomer, a superb one of Paderewski by Tadema, and one of Walter Crane
by Watts, also of distinguished excellence. Later, called upon the
Duchess of Bedford, a handsome woman, sister to Lady Henry Somerset. We
talked of her sister's visit to the United States. I was well able to
praise her eloquence and her general charm. She has known Lowell well.
We talked of the old London, the old Boston, both past their palmiest
literary days. She had heard Phillips Brooks at Westminster Abbey;
admired him much, but thought him optimistic."
"_July 14._ Was engaged to spend the afternoon at Mrs. Moulton's
reception and to dine with Sebastian Schlesinger.... Many people
introduced to me--Jerome, author of 'Three Men in a Boat'; Molloy,
songwriter; Theodore Watts, poetical critic of the Athenæum.'... At the
dinner I met Mrs. O'Connor, who turned out to be a Texan, pretty and
very pleasant, an Abolitionist at the age of six...."
"_July 15._... To the Harlands', where met Theodore Watts again, and had
some good talk with him about Browning and other friends. Also Walter
Besant, whom I greeted very warmly as 'our best friend.'"
"_July 17._ A sermon of surpassing beauty and power from the dear Bishop
of Massachusetts [Phillips Brooks].... The power and spirit of the
discourse carried me quite away. We waited to speak with him. I had a
dear grasp of the hand from him. I shook my finger at him and said, 'Is
this resting?' He laughed and said, 'This is the last time. I shall not
speak again until I reach Massachusetts.' I wrote some lines on coming
home, only half expressing my thought, which was that the mother of so
brave a son could not have had one coward drop of blood in her
veins--another little scrap, too, about the seven devils that
Christianity can cast out. General Walker in the afternoon and the
Harlands to dinner."
* * * * *
They left London to join Mrs. Terry at Schwalbach, lingering for a
little on the way in Holland and Belgium.
"_July 27._ _The Hague._ To see Mesdag and his pictures. Found Mesdag a
hale man of perhaps fifty years--perhaps less; a fine house, and,
besides his own paintings of which we saw a number, a wonderful
collection of pictures, mostly modern French, Troyon, Corot, Rousseau,
Daubigny. Some good things by a Roman artist, Mancini, whom Mesdag
praised highly--he is very poor, but has some excellent qualities. A
picture of a little girl reclining on a pillow with a few flowers in her
hand, pleased me very much--he also praised it. Much fine tapestry,
china, etc., etc. He was gruffly pleasant and hospitable."
"_July 28._ _Antwerp._ Visited Cathedral and _Musée_. Saw my picture,
Rubens's Elevation of the Cross, but felt that my eyesight has dimmed
since I last saw it. Found Félu, the armless artist, in the _Musée_
copying a picture of Godiva. He was very glad to see us. Much talk with
him about Flemish art. A little ramble after dinner and a nibble at a
bric-à-brac shop, which, however, did not become a bite."
"_July 31._ _Cologne._ A great concourse of people awaited the arrival
of a steamer with the Arion Musical Society of New York. Köln choral
societies were represented by fine banners and by members in mediæval
costumes, very picturesque. The steamer came alongside with many flags,
foremost among them our own dear 'Stars and Stripes.' We waved
handkerchiefs vigorously as these last passed by, and were saluted by
their bearers."
"_August 2._ Left Cologne by Rhine steamer. I remember these boats as
crowded, dirty, and very comfortless, but I found this one as well
appointed as need be. Spent the day mostly on deck enjoying the great
beauty and romance of the trip.... I chilled myself pretty badly on
deck, but stayed up until perhaps half-past seven. A very young
Westphalian on board astonished us all by his powers of drinking and of
smoking. He talked with me; said, '_Sie sind deutsch,_' which I denied."
"_August 3._ Reached Schwalbach at three. My dear sister [Mrs. Terry]
came out to greet us. The meeting was a little tearful, but also
cheerful. Much has passed and passed away in these eventful years....
Presently Louisa and I were as though we had not been parted at all.
She is little changed, and retains her old grace and charm of manner."
"_August 4._ Out early with my sister. We have a regular and restful
plan of living. Meet after dinner, coffee with my sister at half-past
four, supper at half-past seven, in the evening reading aloud and
conversation. I am miserable with pain, probably rheumatic, in my left
hip. Think I must have got a chill on the Rhine boat. I say nothing
about this. Daisy and Wintie [Mr. and Mrs. Winthrop Chanler] came this
afternoon."
"_August 7._ To Anglican service with my dear sister. A dull sermon. The
service indifferently read--just the stereotyped Church of England
article. My dreadful hip joint does not ache to-day, and I am ready to
skip about with joy at the relief even if it prove but temporary. The
pain has been pretty severe and I have said nought about it, fearing
treatment."
"_August 9._ Read Aristotle, as I have done all these days. Took up St.
Paul's Epistle to the Romans, with a more distinct view than heretofore
of his attitude relative to them, and theirs to him. Walked out with my
sister, and saw at the bric-à-brac booth near the Stahlbrunnen a ring
composed of a fine garnet, set with fine diamonds, wonderfully cheap,
136 marks--I foolishly wanted it."
"_August 16._ _Heidelberg._ To the Castle--an endless walk and climb. I
was here in 1843, a bride, with dear Chev, my dearest brother Marion,
and my cousin, Henry Hall Ward. We went to the Wolfbrunnen to
breakfast--went on ponies to the Castle, where we wandered at will, and
saw the mighty tun. Some French people were wandering there also, and
one of them, a lady with a sweet soprano voice, sang a song of which the
refrain was: '_Comme une étoile au firmament_.' H. H. Ward long after
found this song somewhere. His voice has now been silent for twenty
years, dear Marion's for forty-six, and here I come to-day, with my
grown-up granddaughter, whom dear Chev only knew as a baby. How long the
time seems, and yet how short! Two generations have grown up since then
in our family. My sister Louisa, then a young beauty, is here with me, a
grandmother with grandchildren nearly grown. 'So teach us to number our
days.'"
* * * * *
It seemed to the second and third generations that the two sisters could
hardly have been lovelier in that far-off springtime than now in the
mellow beauty of their autumn. It was a delight to see them together, a
high privilege to sit by and listen to the interchange of precious
memories:--
"Do you remember--"
"And do you remember again--"
* * * * *
"_August 24._ _Sonnenberg._... At breakfast an elderly lady seemed to
look at me and to smile. I supposed her to be one of my Club ladies, or
some one who had entertained me, so presently I asked her if she were
'one of my acquaintances.' She replied that she was not, but would be
pleased to make my acquaintance. We met soon after in one of the
corridors; having incautiously mentioned my name, I asked for hers, she
replied, 'Sforza--Duchess Sforza Cesarini.' She had been attracted by my
Breton caps, and especially by Daisy's beautiful version of this simple
adornment. She is a reader of Rosmini."[116]
[116] Rosmini-Serbati, a noted philosopher and founder of the order of
the Brothers of Charity.
* * * * *
The Duchess confessed afterward that she had requested her maid to
observe and copy the cap, and had been somewhat troubled in mind lest
she had been guilty of a constructive discourtesy.
* * * * *
"_September 3._ Received and answered a letter from Jenkin Lloyd Jones,
informing me of my election to an Advisory Board to hold a World's
Unitarian Congress at Chicago in September, 1893. I have accepted this."
"_September 4._ My last day at Sonnenberg.... Gave my sister my little
old Greek Lexicon, long a cherished companion. I had thought of reading
the family one of my sermons, but my throat was troublesome and no one
asked me to do anything of the kind. They wished to hear 'Pickwick,' and
a long reading was held in my room, the fire in the grate helping to
cheer us."
"_September 15._ Left Montreux for Paris. Reed brought me a beautiful
yellow rose, half-blown, upon which I needs must exercise my old trick
of versification. Paper I had none--the back of a pasteboard box held
one stanza, the cover of a Tauchnitz the others."
"_September 18._ Heard to-day of the noble poet, Whittier's death. What
a great heart is gone with him!"
"_September 22._ _Liverpool._ Embarked at about ten in the morning.
Edward Atkinson, wife and daughter on board, a valuable addition to our
resources."
"_September 29._ _At sea._ I said in my mind: 'There is nothing in me
which can redeem me from despair over my poor life and wasted
opportunities. That redemption which I seek must be in Thee. There is no
progress in the mere sense of ill-desert. I must pass on from it to
better effort beyond, self-reproach is negative: woe is me that I was
born! Amendment must have positive ground.' I wrote some lines in which
a bit of sea-weed shining in the sun seemed as an illustration of the
light which I hope to gain."
"_September 30._ A performance of Jarley's Wax-works in the evening was
much enjoyed. Edward Atkinson as Mrs. Partington in my witch hat recited
some merry nonsense of Hood's about European travel."
"_October 2._ _Boston._ In the early morning John M. Forbes's yacht, the
Wild Duck, hovered around us, hoping to take off his daughter, Mrs.
Russell.... Quite a number of us embraced this opportunity with
gratitude...."
"_October 3._ All seems like a dream."
"_October 7._ _Newport._ I begin my life here with a prayer that the
prolongation of my days on earth may be for good to myself and others,
that I may not sink into senile folly or grossness, nor yet wander into
æsthetic conceit, but carry the weight of my experience in humility, in
all charity, and in a loving and serviceable spirit."
* * * * *
The last entry in the Journal for 1892 strikes the keynote of what was
to prove the most absorbing interest of the coming year.
"_December 31._ Farewell, dear 1892. You were the real _quattro_
centenary of Columbus's discovery, although we have been so behind time
as not to be ready to celebrate this before 1893. 1492 was indeed a year
momentous to humanity."
* * * * *
To her many cares was added now work for the Columbian Exhibition at
Chicago. The Woman's Department of the World's Fair was ably
administered by Mrs. Potter Palmer, who consulted her frequently, her
experiences in the New Orleans Cotton Centennial proving useful in the
Columbian Exhibition. The "Twelve-o'Clock Talks," so successful in the
Crescent City, were, at her suggestion, repeated at Chicago, and proved
most valuable. The Association for the Advancement of Women and many
other associations were to meet in Chicago this year. She writes to the
Reverend Jenkin Lloyd Jones concerning the Parliament of Religions and
the Unitarian Congress; to Aaron Powell touching the Congress on Social
Purity. There are letters, too, about the Alliance of Unitarian Women,
the Congress of Representative Women, and the Association of Women
Ministers and Preachers.
"_January 7._ [_Boston._] To speak to the Daughters of the American
Revolution at the house of Miss Rebecca W. Brown. I had dreaded the
meeting, feeling that I must speak of suffrage in connection with the
new womanhood, and anticipating a cold or angry reception. What was my
surprise at finding my words, which were not many, warmly welcomed!
Truly, the hour is at hand!"
"_January 8._ To speak for Dr. Clisby at Women's Educational and
Industrial Union. I had dreaded this, too, fearing not to interest my
audience. The occasion was very pleasant to me, and, I think, to them;
Mrs. Waters endorsed my estimate of Phillips Brooks as a perfectly
disinterested worker. Mrs. Catlin of New York agreed in my praise of
Bishop Henry C. Potter on the same grounds; both also spoke well in
relation to my most prominent point--emancipation from the slavery of
self."
"_January 23._ Oh! and alas! dear Phillips Brooks died suddenly this
morning at half-past six. Alas! for Christendom, which he did so much to
unite by redeeming his domain in it from superstition, formalism, and
uncharity. Oh! to have such a reputation, and _deserve it_!"
"_March 4._ To-day have been allowed to visit the study of the late dear
Bishop of Massachusetts. I took this pin from his pincushion, to keep
for a souvenir. Made Rosalind write down the names of a number of the
books. The library is a very generous one, comprising a large sweep of
study and opinion. A charming frieze over the large window had been
painted by Mrs. Whitman. We entered with a reverent feeling, as if in a
sacred place.... The dining-room, and his seat thereat, with portraits
of his parents and grandfather. The mother was of his color, dark of
eyes and hair, strong temperament, otherwise no special resemblance. His
father looked substantial but not remarkable."
* * * * *
In mid-May she went to Chicago, to take part in the World's Congress of
Representative Women, and in many of the other congresses and
conferences of that notable year.
"_May 16._ _Chicago._ Was appointed to preside to-day over a Report
Convention [of the above Congress]; went to Room 6 of the Art Palace and
found no one. Mrs. Kennard came presently, and Mrs. Clara B. Colby, who
stood by me bravely--when about a dozen had gathered I opened the
meeting. Mrs. Colby read reports for two associations, British, I think.
A German delegate had a long report written in German, which it would
have been useless for her to read. She accordingly reported as she was
able, in very funny English, I helping her when she was at a loss for a
word. Her evident earnestness made a good impression. I reported for
A.A.W., partly in writing, partly _extempore_. In the evening read my
paper on the Moral Initiative as regards Women. The hall [of Washington]
was frightfully cold."
"_May 17._ Going to the Art Palace this afternoon I found an audience
waiting in one of the small halls with no speaker. Madame C. had engaged
to speak on musical education. I was requested to fill the breach,
which I did, telling of the Boston Conservatory of Music, early music in
Boston, and down to our time. Had an ovation afterwards of friendly
handshaking."
"_May 19._ Meeting of National Alliance of Unitarian Women."
"_May 27._ My seventy-fourth birthday. Thank God for my continued life,
health, and bodily and mental powers. My prayer to Him is that, whether
I am to have a year, a month, a week, or a day more, it may be for good
to myself and others.
"Went to the Columbian Exhibition. Thomas's Orchestra playing for Mrs.
Potter Palmer's reception given to the women of the Press Association.
Later I went into the model kitchen where tea was served by the
Cingalese. Mrs. Palmer asked me to follow her brief address with a few
words. I did this and told of its being my birthday, at which Mrs.
Palmer gave me her bouquet of carnations, and the ladies present rose
and waved handkerchiefs. Read my sermon for to-morrow twice and feared
it might not strike a keynote here."
"_May 28._ Rather nervous about getting to town in time for my service
at the Unitarian Church,--we were in good time. My mind was much
exercised about my prayer, I having decided to offer the longer one,
which I did, I hope, acceptably. I don't think that the sermon _told_ as
it did in Boston. The church is not easy to speak in. Mr. Fenn said a
few words very tenderly about his pleasure in receiving me into his
pulpit. The pulpit roses were given me."
"_May 29._ Went to the Exposition, where met Mrs. Charlotte Emerson
Brown. Went with her to her space in the Organization Room. She will
receive and care for my exhibits. Saw the very fine collection of club
manuals, histories, etc."[117]
[117] Mrs. Charlotte Emerson Brown was at this time president of the
General Federation of Women's Clubs, and had prepared this exhibit, the
first of its kind in club history.
"_May 30._ Made a little spurt to begin my screed for Aaron Powell's
meeting on Sunday. Went with dear Maud and Helen Gardner to the Fair.
Side-shows as follows: Cairo Street, Cairo Theatre, Soudanese dancers
(very black savages wearing top tufts of black hair or wool, clothed in
strips of dirty white cotton cloth), old Vienna, dinner at Vienna
restaurant....
"The Cairo dancing was simply horrid, no touch of grace in it, only a
most deforming movement of the whole abdominal and lumbar region. We
thought it indecent. The savages were much better, though they only
stamp their bare feet and clap their hands in rhythm without music. One
had a curious smooth lyre, which seemed to give no sound. Their teeth
were beautifully white and regular. One of them came up to me and said,
'Mamma,' as if to indicate my age. Then into a bark hut, to see the
Soudanese baby dance--a dear little child that danced very funnily to a
tum-tum."
Early June found her back in Boston and hard at work.
"_June 8._ Finished my screed for the July 'Forum.' Subject, 'A Proper
Observance of the Fourth of July.' I have prayed over this piece of work
as over all the others which have been strung, one after another, in
this busiest of years for me. I have also despaired of it, and am not
yet sure of its acceptance."
Next day she felt that she "must see the last of dear Edwin Booth." The
Journal describes his funeral at length; "the sun perfectly golden
behind the trees." She brought away a bit of evergreen from the grave,
and at church, two days later, "had the sexton slide it in among the
pulpit flowers; afterward brought it home. Perhaps a silly fancy, but an
affectionate one." She wrote a poem in memory of Mr. Booth, "not
altogether to my satisfaction." She felt his death as a real loss; he
remained always to her a beautiful and heroic figure, connected with a
great time.
"_June 15._ 'Thus far the Lord has led me on.' I have had many pieces of
work to accomplish, and when almost despairing, seemed to have been
uplifted right into my working seat, and so have fulfilled my tasks as
well as I was able. Have still my Fourth of July poem to write, and wish
to write a poem in memory of Edwin Booth. I'm hungry, oh! how hungry,
for rest and reading. Must work very hard for A.A.W. this season...."
She went to Harvard Class Day this summer, her eldest grandson, Samuel
Prescott Hall, being of the graduating class; drove out to Cambridge in
a pouring rain, and enjoyed the occasion. "I saw my Boy march with his
fellows; when they cheered Weld, I waved a napkin."
The summer sped by on wings of study and work; she was lame, but that
gave her the more time for writing. The Journal records many letters;
among other things, "a short screed for the man who asks to be convinced
that there is such a thing as soul." In September she spread other wings
and flew back to Chicago for the Parliament of Religions, and some last
Impressions of the Dream City of the World's Fair.
"_September 23._ Went to the Parliament of Religions where Jenkin Lloyd
Jones put me on the platform. Heard Dr. Momery, who gave a pleasant,
liberal, and spirited address, a little _elementary_, as he closed by
reciting 'Abou Ben Adhem,' which is as familiar to Americans as A B C.
In the evening went to meet, or rather find, the women ministers. Miss
Chapin excused herself from attending and asked me to run the
meeting.... I read my short screed, briefly narrating my own efforts to
found an association of women ministers. Miss Putnam and Mary Graves
were appointed as a committee to consult with me as to a plan of
organization."
"_September 26._ Up early.... Visited the German village, castle and
museum, the mining, agricultural, shoe and leather buildings for a brief
space. Made a turn in the Ferris Wheel.... Mary Graves came for me, and
we started for the Parliament in good time. The first speaker was
intolerably narrow and out of place, insisting upon the hostility of
Christ to all ethnic religions. I could not refrain from taking him up a
little, very mildly. I was received with applause and the Chautauqua
salute, and my brief speech (fourteen minutes without notes) was much
applauded. I was very thankful for this opportunity."
* * * * *
This impromptu speech made a deep impression. In the newspaper reports
great stress was laid on it, with singular result. She was amazed next
day to hear her name roared out in the Midway Plaisance by a touter who
stood at the gateway of one of the sideshows where some Orientals were
at prayer.
"Come in, all ye Christian people," the man cried. "Come in and see
these devout Mohammedans at their devotions. Julia Ward Howe has knocked
the orthodoxy into a cocked hat."
The quiet little figure, passing in the motley throng, paused for a
moment and looked with astonishment into the touter's face, which gave
no sign of recognition.
"This," said a friend, who happened to come up at the moment,--"this is
fame!"
CHAPTER VIII
"DIVERS GOOD CAUSES"
1890-1896; _aet._ 71-77
A DREAM OF THE HEARTHSTONE
A figure by my fireside stayed,
Plain was her garb, and veiled her face;
A presence mystical she made,
Nor changed her attitude, nor place.
Did I neglect my household ways
For pleasure, wrought of pen or book?
She sighed a murmur of dispraise,
At which, methought, the rafters shook.
* * * * *
"Now, who art thou that didst not smile
When I my maddest jest devised?
Who art thou, stark and grim the while
That men my time and measure prized?"
Without her pilgrim staff she rose,
Her weeds of darkness cast aside;
More dazzling than Olympian snows
The beauty that those weeds did hide.
Most like a solemn symphony
That lifts the heart from lowly things,
The voice with which she spake to me
Did loose contrition at its springs.
"Oh, Duty! Visitor Divine,
Take all the wealth my house affords,
But make thy holy methods mine;
Speak to me thy surpassing words!
"Neglected once and undiscerned,
I pour my homage at thy feet.
Till I thy sacred law have learned
Nor joy, nor life can be complete."
J. W. H.
In the closing decade of the nineteenth century a new growth of "causes"
claimed her time and sympathy. The year 1891 saw the birth of the
Society of American Friends of Russian Freedom; modelled on a similar
society which, with "Free Russia" as its organ, was doing good work in
England.
The object of the American society was "to aid by all moral and legal
means the Russian patriots in their efforts to obtain for their country
political freedom and self-government." Its circular was signed by
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Julia Ward Howe, John Greenleaf Whittier,
James Russell Lowell, George Kennan, William Lloyd Garrison, Henry I.
Bowditch, F. W. Bird, Alice Freeman Palmer, Charles G. Ames, Edward L.
Pierce, Frank B. Sanborn, Annie Fields, E. Benjamin Andrews, Lillie B.
Chace Wyman, Samuel L. Clemens, and Joseph H. Twitchell.
James Russell Lowell, writing to Francis J. Garrison in 1891, says:
"Between mote and beam, I think _this_ time Russia has the latter in her
eye, though God knows we have motes enough in ours. So you may take my
name even if it be in vain, as I think it will be."
It was through this society that she made the acquaintance of Mme.
Breschkovskaya,[118] the Russian patriot whose sufferings and sacrifices
have endeared her to all lovers of freedom. The two women felt instant
sympathy with each other. Mme. Breschkovskaya came to 241 Beacon Street
more than once, and they had much talk together. On one of these
occasions our mother was asked to play some of her own compositions. Her
fingers strayed from one thing to another; finally, on a sudden
impulse, she struck the opening chords of the Russian National Hymn.
Mme. Breschkovskaya started forward. "Ah, madame!" she cried, "do not
play that! You cannot know what that air means to us Russians!"
[118] Now (1915) a political prisoner in Siberia: she escaped, but was
recaptured and later removed to a more remote place of imprisonment.
At a great meeting in Faneuil Hall the two spoke, in English and Russian
respectively, while other addresses were in Yiddish and Polish. All were
frantically applauded by the polyglot audience which filled the hall to
overflowing. William Dudley Foulke presided at this meeting. Speaking
with our mother several years later, he reminded her of the occasion,
which he thought might have been of a somewhat anarchistic tendency. He
was not sure, he said, that they had not made fools of themselves. "One
can afford," she replied, "to make a very great fool of one's self in
such a cause as that of Russian liberty!"
* * * * *
The year 1891 saw the birth of another society in which she was deeply
interested, the Women's Rest Tour Association, whose object was "simply
to make it easier for women who need a trip abroad to take one."
It was proved "that the sum of $250 was sufficient to enable a woman of
simple tastes to enjoy a summer's vacation in Europe"; a travelling fund
was established from which women could borrow, or--in certain
cases--receive gifts; a handbook was issued, etc., etc.
In an unobtrusive way, the Women's Rest Tour Association did and
continues to do much good. She was its president to the close of her
life, and in silent and lovely tribute to her memory the office has
since then remained vacant.
In the early nineties all Christendom was aroused by the outrages
committed by the Turks in Armenia. From almost every Christian country
rose a cry of horror: indignation meetings were called; protest,
denunciation, and appeal were the order of the day. In Boston a meeting
was held at Faneuil Hall (November 26, 1894), called together by the
Boston Armenian Relief Committee. She was on the platform, and spoke
from her heart.
"I could not," she says, "stay away from this meeting. My heart was
here, and I came, not so much to speak, as to hear what is to be done
about this dreadful trouble. For something must be done. I have to pray
God night and morning that He would find some way to stay this terrible
tide of slaughter....
"I recall the first action of Florence Nightingale when she went to take
care of the sick and wounded in the Crimean War. She found many things
wanting for the comfort of the soldiers in the hospitals, but she could
not get at them. Some seal or mandate was waited for. 'The men are
suffering,' Florence Nightingale said. 'Break in the doors--open the
boxes--give me the blankets and medicines. I must have them!'--and so
she did. Now, the fleets of the Western nations are waiting for some
diplomatic development which shall open the way for action. I think that
we, the United States of America, are now called upon to play the part
of Florence Nightingale; to take our stand and insist upon it that the
slaughter shall cease. Oh! let us give money, let us give life, but let
us stand by our principles of civil and religious liberty. I am sure
that if we do so, we shall have behind us, and with us, that great
spirit which has been in the world for nineteen centuries past, with
ever-increasing power. Let us set up in these distant lands the shelter
of the blessed Cross, and of all that it stands for, and let us make it
availing once and forever."
Soon after this the Friends of Armenia organized as a society, she being
its president. Among its members were William Lloyd Garrison, Henry
Blackwell and his devoted daughter Alice, and M. H. Gulesian. Singly or
in company they went about, through Massachusetts, holding meetings,
rousing the people to aid in the protest of Christendom against
heathendom, of mercy against cruelty. "Spoke for Armenia," is a frequent
entry in the Journal of these days.
In one of these addresses she said:--
"It may be asked, where is the good of our assembling here? what can a
handful of us effect against this wicked and remorseless power, so far
beyond our reach, so entrenched in the selfishness of European nations
who are the creditors of the bankrupt state, and who keep her alive in
the hope of recovering the debt which she owes them? The walls of this
old hall should answer this question. They saw the dawn of our own
larger liberties. They heard the first indignant plea of Wendell
Phillips when, in the splendor of his youth, he took the field for the
emancipation of a despised race which had no friends. So, on this sacred
arena, I throw down the glove which challenges the Turkish Government
to its dread account. What have we for us in this contest? The spirit of
civilization, the sense of Christendom, the heart of humanity. All of
these plead for justice, all cry out against barbarous warfare of which
the victims are helpless men, tender women and children. We invoke here
the higher powers of humanity against the rude instincts in which the
brute element survives and rules.
"Aid us, paper, aid us, pen,
Aid us, hearts of noble men!
"Aid us, shades of champions who have led the world's progress! Aid us,
thou who hast made royal the scourge and crown of thorns!"
After hearing these words, Frederick Greenhalge, then Governor of
Massachusetts, said to her, "Ah, Mrs. Howe, you have given us a prose
Battle Hymn!"
The Friends of Armenia did active and zealous service through a number
of years, laboring not only for the saving of life, but for the support
and education of the thousands of women and orphans left desolate.
Schools and hospitals were established in Armenia, and many children
were placed in American homes, where they grew up happily, to
citizenship.
Nearly ten years later, a new outbreak of Turkish ferocity roused the
"Friends" to new fervor, and once again her voice was lifted up in
protest and appeal. She wrote to President Roosevelt, imploring him to
send some one from some neighboring American consulate to investigate
conditions. He did so, and his action prevented an impending massacre.
In 1909, fresh persecutions brought the organization once more
together. The Armenians of Boston reminded her of the help she had given
before, and asked her to write to President Taft. This she promptly did.
Briefly, this cause with so many others was to be relinquished only with
life itself.
On the fly-leaf of the Journal for 1894 is written: "I take possession
of the New Year in the name of Faith, Hope, and Charity. J. W. Howe."
"Head bewildered with correspondence, bills, etc. Must get out of this
or die."
"A threatening head, and a week before me full of functions. I feel weak
in mind and dazed with confusions, but will trust in God and keep my
powder dry."
"Hearing on Suffrage, Green Room, 10 A.M. My mind was unusually clear
for this speaking. I determined to speak of the two sorts of people,
those who naturally wish to keep the best things for themselves, and
those whose appreciation of these things is such that they cannot
refrain from spreading them abroad, giving freely as they have received.
I was able to follow and apply this tolerably in my ten-minute
speech...."
"Annual meeting of Rest Tour Association; a delightful meeting, full of
good suggestions. I made one concerning pilgrimages in groups.... I had
a sudden glimpse to-day of the unfailing goodness of God. This and not
our merits brings the pardon of our sins."
"To hear Irving in 'Louis XI'; a strong play and a good part for him.
Left after Act Fourth to attend Mrs. Gardner's musicale, at which Busoni
pounded fearfully. I said, 'He ought to play with his boots on his
hands.' He played two curious compositions of Liszt's: St. Francis's
Sermon to the Birds and to the Fishes--much roaring as of old ocean in
the second."
"_Boston._ Attended Mrs. Mary Hemenway's funeral in the morning.... A
great loss she is, but her life has been a great gain. Would that more
rich men had such daughters! That more rich women had such a heart!..."
"C. G. A. preached a funeral sermon on Mrs. Hemenway. As he opened his
lips, I said to myself, 'What can he teach us that her life has not
taught us?' The sermon, however, was most instructive. Such a life makes
an epoch, and should establish a precedent. If one woman can be so
disinterested and so wise, others can emulate her example. I, for one,
feel that I shall not forget this forcible presentation of the aspect of
such a character, of such a history. God send that her mantle may fall
upon this whole community, stimulating each to do what he or she can for
humanity."
_To Maud_
241 BEACON STREET, April 21, 1894.
MY DEAREST DEAR CHILD,--
... Let me tell you of the abolition of the old Fast Day and of the new
holiday, April 19, ordained in its stead. This, you may remember, is the
anniversary of the Battle of Lexington. The celebration here was quite
on a grand scale. The bells of the old North Church were rung and the
lanterns hung out. A horseman, personating Paul Revere, rode out to
rouse the farmers of Concord and Lexington, and a sham fight, imitating
the real one, actually came off with an immense concourse of spectators.
The Daughters of the American Revolution had made me promise to go to
their celebration at the Old South, where I sat upon the platform with
Mrs. Sam Eliot, Regent, and with the two orators of the day, Professor
Channing and Edward Hale. I wore the changeable silk that Jenny Nelson
made, the Gardner cashmere, and the _bonnet_ which little you made for
me last summer. McAlvin refreshed it a little, and it looked most proud.
Sam Eliot, who presided, said to me, "Why, Julia, you look like the
queen that I said you were, long ago. If I could do so, I would
introduce you as the Queen." I tell you all this in order that you may
know that I was all right as to appearance. I was to read a poem, but
had not managed to compose one, so I copied out "Our Country" from
"Later Lyrics," and read it as I was never able to read it before. For
the first time, it _told_ upon the audience. This was because it was
especially appropriate to the occasion....
* * * * *
"_May 11._ Opposed the dispensing with the reading of State Reports. The
maker of the motion said that we could read these at home. I said, 'Yes,
and we can read the Bible at home, but we like to go to church and hear
it read.' Finished my screed for this evening and licked my Columbus
poem into shape, the dear Lord helping me."
_To Maud_
PLAINFIELD, N.J., May 16, 1894.
MY DEAREST MAUD,--
... First place, I had a visit from Laura. We threw the ball daily, and
had lunches and punches. We went to hear de Koven's "Robin Hood," the
music of which is strongly _reminiscent_, and also saw Mounet-Sully's
"Hamlet," a very wonderful piece of acting. Flossy and I had three days
of conventioning in Philadelphia, last week. Flossy's little speech was
one of the best at the convention, and was much applauded. I was
received on all hands with affectionate goodwill.... There seemed to be,
among the Eastern women, a desire to make _me_ president [of the General
Federation of Women's Clubs]. This I immediately put out of the question
and Mrs. Cheney stood by me, saying that Massachusetts would not see me
killed with work. It would indeed have been out of the question, as the
position is probably one of great labor and responsibility....
YOUR MOTHEREST MOTHER.
* * * * *
The Seventy-fifth Birthday brought the customary festivities. The
newspapers sent reporters; she had a word for each. To the
representative of the "Advertiser," she said, "I think that I enjoy the
coming of old age with its peacefulness, like the going down of the sun.
It is very lovely! I am so glad to be remembered by so many. The
twilight of life is indeed a pleasant season!"
_To Maud_
241 BEACON STREET, May 31, 1894.
MY DEAREST CHILD,--
I send you a budget of tributes to my birthday. The "Springfield
Republican" has a bit about it, with a good and gratifying poem from
Sanborn. _Really_, dear, between you and me what a old humbug it is! But
no matter--if people will take me for much better than I am, I can't
help it, and must only try to live up to my reputation.... I received a
good letter from you, "a little scolding at first," but "soft rebukes
with blessings ended," as Longfellow describes the admonitions of his
first wife.... At the Suffrage Festival, Governor Long presided, and in
introducing me waved a branch of lilies, saying, "In the beauty of the
lilies she is still, at seventy-five." Now that I call handsome, don't
you?...
Flossy had a very successful afternoon tea while I was with her. She had
three ladies of the _Civitas_ Club and invited about one hundred of her
neighbors to hear them read papers. It wasn't suffrage, but it was good
government, which is about the same thing. The parlors looked very
pretty. I should think seventy or eighty came and all were delighted.
Did I write you that at Philadelphia she made the most admired speech of
the occasion? She wore the brocade, finely made over, with big black
velvet top sleeves and rhinestone comb, and they 'plauded and 'plauded,
and I sat, grinning like a chessy cat, oh! so welly pleased.
"_July 1._ [_Oak Glen._] Despite my severe fatigue went in town to
church; desired in my mind to have some good abiding thought given me to
work for and live by. The best thought that came to me was something
like this: we are careful of our fortune and of our reputation. We are
not careful enough of our lives. Society is built of these lives in
which each should fit his or her place, like a stone fitly joined by the
builder. We die, but _the life we have lived remains_, and helps to
build society well or ill. Later on I thought that it sometimes seems as
if a rope or chain of mercy would be let down to pull some of us out of
sin and degradation, out of the Hell of passion. If we have taken hold
of it and have been rescued, shall we not work to have others drawn up
with us? At such moments, I remember my old wish to speak to the
prisoners, never fully realized."
"_August 13._ Finished my poem for the Bryant Centenary, of which I have
despaired; my mind has seemed dull of late, and I have had a hard time
with this poem, writing what appeared to me bald-doggerel, with no
uniting thought. In these last three days, I have hammered upon it, and
bettered it, coming in sight of a better vein and to-day, not without
prayerful effort, I got it about ready, _D.G._"
_To Maud_
OAK GLEN, August 27, 1894.
... An interesting French gentleman has been giving readings at Mrs.
Coleman's. He read us Corneille's "Cid" last evening with much dash and
spirit. It is a famous play, but the sentiment is very stilted, like
going up a ladder to shave one's self. I was at Providence on Friday to
meet a literary club of ladies. I read to them the greater part of my
play, "Hippolytus," written the summer before Sammy was born, for Edwin
Booth. It seemed very ghostly to go back to the ambitions of that time,
but the audience, a parlor one, expressed great satisfaction.... I
'fesses that I did attend the Bryant Centenary Festival at Cummington,
Mass. I read a poem written for the occasion. Charles Dudley Warner and
Charles Eliot Norton were there, and Parke Godwin presided.
* * * * *
"_August 31._ To Newport with Flossy, taking my screed with me, to the
meeting of Colonial Dames, at the rooms of the Historical Society, one
of which is the old Seventh-Day Baptist Church, which my
great-grandfather, Governor Samuel Ward, used to attend.... Bishop
Clarke made the closing address, full of good sense, sentiment and
wit--a wonderful man for eighty-two years of age."
_To Laura_
OAK GLEN, September 6, 1894.
Q. What has been your mother's treatment of you latterly?
Ans. Quite devilish, thank you.
Q. Has her conduct this past season been worse than usual?
Ans. Much as usual. I regret to say, couldn't be worse.
(Family Catechism for 1894.)
Oh! I've got a day to myself, and I've got some chillen, and I'm going
to write to 'em, you bet.
You see, Laura E., of the plural name of Dick, there warn't no summer,
only one of those patent, boiled-down contrivances, all shrivelled up,
which if you puts them in water, they swells out, but there warn't no
water (Encycl. Brit., Article "Drought"); and so the dried-up thing
didn't swell, and there warn't no summer, and that is why you haven't
heard from me.... I'm sorry, anyhow, that I can't allow you the luxury
of one moment's grievance against me, but I can't; I may, _now and
then_, forget to write ("!!!!" says L. E. R.), but I 'dores you all the
same. I carry the sweet cheer of your household through all my life. Am
drefful glad that you have been to camp this season; wish I could go
myself. Only think of Celia Thaxter's death! I can hardly believe it,
she always seemed so full of life....
* * * * *
"_September 28._ Here begins for me a new period. I have fulfilled as
well as I could the tasks of the summer, and must now have a little
rest, a day or so, and then begin in good earnest to prepare for the
autumn and winter work, in which A.A.W. comes first, and endless
correspondence."
_To Maud_
241 BEACON STREET, December 19, 1894.
Last Sunday evening I spoke in Trinity Church, having been invited to do
so by the rector, Dr. Donald. Wonders will never cease. The meeting was
in behalf of the colored school at Tuskegee, which we A.A.W.'s visited
after our Congress. I dressed myself with unusual care. Dr. Donald gave
me the place of honor and took me in and upon the platform in the
chancel where we all sat. Governor Greenhalge was the first speaker. I
came about fourth, and to my surprise was distinctly heard all over the
house. You may easily imagine that I enjoyed this very much, although it
was rather an anxious moment when I stepped forward to speak.... We are
all much shocked at the death of dear Robert Louis Stevenson of which
you will have heard before this reaches you. What a loss to literature!
* * * * *
"_January 1, 1895._ I was awake very early and made the prayer that
during this year I might not say one uncharitable word, or be guilty of
one ungenerous action."
"_January 6_.... My afternoon service at the Women's Educational and
Industrial Union.... The day was very stormy and Mrs. Lee met me at the
carriage, offering to excuse me from speaking to the five persons who
were in attendance. I felt not to disappoint those five, and presently
twenty-three were present, and we had a pleasant talk, after the reading
of the short sermon."
"_January 8_.... Felt much discouraged at waking, the long vista of work
opening out before me, each task calling for some original brain-work, I
mean for some special thought worth presenting to an audience. While I
puzzled, a thought came to me for this day's suffrage speech: 'The
kingdom cometh not with observation.' The silent, gradual, wonderful
growth of public sentiment regarding woman suffrage, the spreading sense
of the great universal harmony which Christ delivered to us in the words
and acts of a few years, and which, it seems to me, is only now
beginning to make itself generally felt and to shape the world's
councils increasingly."
"_January 25._ I awoke this morning overwhelmed by the thought of my
lecture at Salem, which I have not written. Suddenly a line of my own
came to me, 'Had I one of thy words, my Master,' and this brought me the
train of thought, which I shall endeavor to present. The one word which
we all have is 'charity.' I wrote quite a screed and with that and some
speaking shall get through, I hope.... Got a good lead of thought and
felt that I could supply _extempore_ what I had not time to write. Harry
and Fanny had a beautiful dinner for Lady Henry Somerset."
"_January 26._ Lunch and lecture in Salem. A dreadful storm; I felt that
I must go. The hackman and I rolled down the steps of the house, he,
fortunately for me, undermost and quite stout of person; otherwise the
shock would have been severe and even dangerous...."
[N.B. The terrified hackman, picking himself up, found her already on
her feet.
"Oh! Mrs. Howe," he cried, "let me help you into the house!"
"Nonsense!" was the reply. "I have just time to catch my train!"]
_To Maud_
241 BEACON STREET, February 24, 1895.
I lost a good lecture engagement at Poughkeepsie through a blizzard. Did
not start, finding that roads were badly blocked. My engagement at
Brooklyn was a good one--a hundred dollars. I stayed at Chanler house,
which was Chanleresque as usual. Peter Marié gave me a fine dinner.
Margaret went with me, in white satin. I wore my black and white which
you remember well. It still looks well enough. I wore some beautiful
lace which I got, through dear sister Annie, from some distressed lace
woman in England. I went to New York by a _five_-hour train, Godkin of
the "Nation" taking care of me. He remembers your kind attentions to him
when you met him in the Pullman with a broken ankle.
* * * * *
"_March 30...._ I awoke very early this morning, with a head so confused
that I thought my brain had given out, at least from the recent
overstrain.... Twice I knelt and prayed that God would give me the use
of my mind. An hour in sleep did something towards this and a good cup
of tea put me quite on my feet...."
"_April 8._ In the late afternoon Harry, my son, came, and after some
little preparation told me of the death of my dear sister Annie. I have
been toiling and moiling to keep the engagements of this week, but here
comes the great silence, and I must keep it for some days at least...."
"_April 10...._ It suddenly occurred to me that this might be the hour,
as this would surely be the day of dear Annie's funeral. So I found the
90th Psalm and the chapter in Corinthians, and sat and read them before
her picture, remembering also Tennyson's lines:--
"'And _Ave_, _Ave_, _Ave_ said
Adieu, adieu, forever more.'"
_To Laura_
241 BEACON STREET, April 14, 1895.
BUONA PASQUA, DEAR CHILD!--
... I feel thankful that my darling died in her own home, apparently
without suffering, and in the bosom of her beloved family. She has lived
out her sweet life, and while the loss to all who loved her is great, we
must be willing to commit our dear ones to God, as we commit ourselves.
The chill of age, no doubt, prevents my feeling as I should once have
done, and the feeling that she has only passed in a little before me,
lessens the sense of separation.
12.25. I have been to our Easter service, which I found very comforting
and elevating, though it brought some tears, of which I have not shed
many, being now past the age at which they flow freely. I thought a good
deal of the desolate Easter at the ranch. For them, too, let us hope
that the blessed season has brought comforting thoughts.... I went too
to a Good Friday service at the new Old South, at which Dr. Donald of
Trinity, Cuckson of Arlington [Unitarian] and Gordon, orthodox
[Congregational], each took part. It was such an earnest, a reconciled
and unified Christendom as I am thankful to have lived to see.
Love and blessings to you and yours, dear child.
Affect.,
MOTHER.
"_May 20._.Have writ a brief letter to Mary G. Hennessey, Dixon,
Illinois. She intends to speak of me in her graduation address and
wanted me to send her 'a vivid history of my life,' with my 'ideas of
literary work.' I declined the first, but sent a bit under the last
head."
"_May 27._... Suffrage meeting in the evening. I presided and began
with, 'Sixty years ago to-day I was sixteen years old. If I only knew
now what I thought I knew then'!"
"_June 2._... To communion in afternoon. The minister asked whether I
would speak. I told what I had felt as I entered the church that
afternoon, 'a sort of realization of the scene in that upper chamber,
its gloom and its glory. What was in that great heart whose pulsations
have made themselves felt down to our own time, and all over the world?
What are its sorrows? It bore the burthen of the sorrows and distresses
of humanity, and we who pledge him here in this cup are bound to bear
our part of that burthen. Only thus shall we attain to share in that
festival of joy and of revealed power which followed the days of doubt
and despair.'
"All this came to me like a flash. I have written it down from memory
because I value the thought."
"_June 15._ Attended the funeral of my old friend and helper, Dr.
Williams, the oculist.... Six stalwart sons carried the coffin.... I
thought this: 'I am glad that I have at last found out that the battle
of life is an unending fight against the evil tendencies, evil mostly
because exceeding right measure, which we find in ourselves.' Strange
that it should take so long to find this out. This is the victory which
God gives us when we have fought well and faithfully. Might I at least
share it with the saints whom I have known.'"
"_July 14._... When I lay down to my rest before dinner, I had a
momentary sense of the sweetness and relief of the last lying down. This
was a new experience to me, as I have been averse to any thought of
death as opposed to the activity which I love. I now saw it as the
termination of all fight and struggle, and prayed that in the life
beyond I might pay some of the debts of affection and recompense which I
have failed to make good in this life. Feeling a little like my old self
to-day, I realize how far from well I have been for days past."
"_July 27._ Woke with an aching head.... Prayed that even in suffering I
might still have 'work and worship.' Alliteration is, I know, one of my
weaknesses. I thought afterwards of a third W--, work, worship, welcome.
These three words will do for a motto of the life which I now lead, in
which these words stand for my ruling objects, 'welcome' denoting
'hospitality' in which I should be glad to be more forward than I have
been of late...."
"_July 28._ Reading Mr. Hedge's review of Historic Christianity to-day,
I felt puzzled by his showing of the usefulness of human errors and
delusion in the great order of Providence. Lying down for my midday
rest, it became more clear to me that there is truth of sentiment and
also intellectual truth. In Dr. Hedge's view, the inevitable mistakes of
human intellect in its early unfolding were helpful to the development
of true sentiment. Higher than this, however, must be the agreement of
the two, prefigured perhaps in such sentences as 'Mercy and truth have
kissed each other.' This thought also came to me: 'Oh, God, no kingdom
is worth praying for but thine.'"
_To Laura_
OAK GLEN, August 2, 1895.
DEAREST PIDGE, ALSO MIDGE,--
... I will condescend to inform you that I am well, that Flossy is very
faithful in taking care of me, and that we are reading Bulwer's
"Pelham," the stupidest of novels. We are two thirds through with it,
and how the author of "Rienzi" could have offered the public so dull a
dish, even in his unripe youth, passes my understanding.
You must not get too tired. Remember that no one will have mercy upon
you unless you will have mercy upon yourself. We sit out a good deal,
and enjoy our books, all but "Pelham," our trees, birds, and
butterflies.
Affectionate
MA.
"_September 30._ My dearest Maud left me this morning for another long
absence; she is to sail for Europe. She had forbidden me to see her off,
but I could not obey her in this and sat with her at breakfast, and had
a last kiss and greeting. My last words called after her were: 'Do not
forget to say your prayers.' May God keep my dearest child and permit us
to meet again, if it is best that I should live until her return, of
which at present the prospect seems very good...."
The Association for the Advancement of Women met in New Orleans this
year, but first she must go with Florence to the Council of the General
Federation of Women's Clubs at Atlanta, Georgia, where a great
exposition was also being held. The expedition began with disaster.
"_October 31._ Left Boston by Colonial train at 9 A.M. Rolled down my
front steps, striking my forehead and bruising myself generally, in
getting to the carriage...."
After taking her part in the Council and visiting the Exposition, she
proceeded to New Orleans, where a warm welcome awaited her. A few days
after her arrival, she was driving to some function when a trolley car
ran into the carriage, shaking her up badly and bruising her lame knee
severely. It seemed imperative that she should rest for a few days, and
hostess and daughter pleaded with her. Florence begged in particular
that she would cancel her engagement to preach in the Unitarian Church;
begged a little too insistently. "I _wouldn't_, dear mother!" "Flossy,"
was the reply, "you are you, and I am I! I shall preach on Sunday!"
_To Maud_
241 BEACON STREET, November 17, 1895.
MY DARLING CHILD,--
... I had a confused and weary time moving up from Newport, and my
Southern journey followed "hard upon." Mrs. Cheney, Eva Channing, Mrs.
Bethune, and I started on October 31. Flossy joined us in New York. We
reached Atlanta on Friday. Our meetings were held in the Woman's
Building of the Atlanta Exposition, and were very pleasant, the
Exposition being also well worth visiting. I spoke in the Unitarian
Church on the Sunday following, and on November 4 we started for New
Orleans which we reached the next morning. We were all to be
entertained, and Mrs. King, our old friend, had written me a cordial
invitation to stay with her. The whole family turned out to receive us,
and we were made at home at once.... Mrs. King had always been most kind
and loyal to me. Our days in New Orleans, only six in number, were
delightful. I saw most of the old friends.... After the accident to Mrs.
King and myself, I felt much like seeking my own hearth. You will have
seen or heard that a trolley car upset our carriage.... All said that it
was a wonderful escape. My bruises are nearly well now, and I am able to
go about as usual. New Orleans has improved much since we were there.
The old mule cars have disappeared, and much of the mud. People feel
very glad that the Lottery has been got rid of, but they are bitter
against the sugar trust. Mrs. Walmsley received our A.A.W. ladies very
cordially at her fine house and sent me beautiful flowers.... I spoke in
the Unitarian Church on Sunday, so I had my heart's desire fulfilled....
_To Laura_
241 BEACON STREET, BOSTON,
December 18, 1895.
'Pon my word and honor, couldn't come at it before!... Last week I spoke
straight along, every day until Saturday; was dreadfully tired. This
week haven't spoken at all. Oh, I forgot, lecture on "Race Problems in
Europe," before my own Club. Have sent the Armenians the money for a
lecture given at Nahant last week, $10. Oh! the difficult dollars!...
"_December 28...._ Mrs. Barrows dined _tête-à-tête_ with me, and we had
much talk about Armenia. I said: 'If we two should go to England, would
it do any good?' I spoke only half in earnest. She said: 'If you would
only go, I would go with you as your henchman.' This set me thinking of
a voyage to England and a crusade such as I made for Peace in 1872. I
am, however, held forcibly here by engagements, and at my age, my bodily
presence might be, as St. Paul says, 'contemptible.' I must try to work
in some other way."
_To Laura_
241 BEACON STREET, December 29, 1895.
... The mince pie was in the grand style, and has been faithfully
devoured, a profound sense of duty forbidding me to neglect it.... I
went to a fine musical party at Mrs. Montie Sears's on Thursday evening,
26th. Paderewski played, at first with strings a Septet or Septuor of
Brahms', and then many things by himself. Somehow, I could not enjoy him
much; he played miraculously, but did not seem to be _in it_.
I am more than ever stirred up about the Armenians. The horrible
massacres go on, just the same, and Christendom stands still. Oh! a
curse on human selfishness!... We are to have a dramatic entertainment
for the Red Cross on Jan. 7th at Boston Theatre....
"_December 29...._ I determined to-day to try to work more
systematically for the Armenians. Think I will write to Clara Barton and
Senator Hoar, also to Lady Henry Somerset, an arraignment of Christendom
for its supineness towards the Turks, an allusion to Coeur de Lion and
the ancient Crusaders...."
"_December 30...._ Clara Barton held a meeting for the Red Cross.... I
was the last speaker and I think that, as sometimes happens, my few
words brought things to a crisis, for the moment only, indeed, but even
that may help."
"_December 31._ Rising early and with a mind somewhat confused and
clouded, I went to my window. As I looked out, the gray clouds parted,
giving me a moment's sight of a star high up in the heavens. This little
glimpse gave me hope for the day and great comfort. It was like an
answering glance to my many troubled questions...."
"We have stood for that which was known to be right in theory, and for
that which has proved to be right in practice. (From my suffrage address
at State House in 1894)."
In December, 1895, appeared her first volume since "Margaret Fuller," a
collection of essays, published under the title of the opening one, "Is
Polite Society Polite?" In the preface she says:--
"I remember, that quite late in the fifties, I mentioned to Theodore
Parker the desire which I began to feel to give living expression to my
thoughts, and to lend to my written words the interpretation of my
voice.
"Parker, who had taken a friendly interest in the publication of my
first volumes, 'Passion Flowers' and 'Words for the Hour,' gave his
approval also to this new project. 'The great desire of the age,' he
said, 'is for vocal expression. People are scarcely satisfied with the
printed page alone: they crave for their instruction the living voice
and the living presence.'..."
Of the title essay she says:--
"I remember that I was once invited to read this essay to a village
audience in one of the New England States. My theme was probably one
quite remote from the general thought of my hearers. As I went on,
their indifference began to affect me, and my thought was that I might
as well have appealed to a set of wooden tenpins as to those who were
present on that occasion.
"In this, I afterwards learned that I was mistaken. After the conclusion
of the evening's exercise, a young man, well known in the community, was
heard to inquire urgently where he could find the lecturer. Friends
asked, what did he want of her? He replied: 'Well, I did put my brother
in the poorhouse, and now that I have heard Mrs. Howe, I suppose that I
must take him out.'"
Another personal reminiscence goes back to her childhood days:--
"I had a nursery governess when I was a small child. She came from some
country town, and probably regarded her position in my father's family
as a promotion. One evening, while we little folks gathered about her in
our nursery, she wept bitterly. 'What is the matter?' we asked; and she
took me up in her lap, and said: 'My poor old father came here to see me
to-day, and I would not see him. I bade them tell him that he had
mistaken the house, and he went away, and as he went I saw him looking
up at the windows so wistfully!' Poor woman! We wept with her, feeling
that this was indeed a tragical event, and not knowing what she could do
to make it better.
"But could I see that woman now, I would say to her: 'If you were
serving the king at his table, and held his wine-cup in your hand, and
your father stood without, asking for you, you should set down the cup,
and go out from the royal presence to honor your father, so much the
more if he is poor, so much the more if he is old.' And all that is
really polite in polite society would say so too."
On the same page is a memory of later years:--
"I once heard a lady, herself quite new in society, say of a Parisian
dame who had shown her some attention: 'Ah! the trouble with Madame ----
is that she is too good-natured. She entertains everybody.' 'Indeed,'
thought I, 'if she had been less good-natured, is it certain that she
would have entertained you?'"
CHAPTER IX
IN THE HOUSE OF LABOR
1896-1897; _aet._ 77-78
THE HOUSE OF REST
I will build a house of rest,
Square the corners every one:
At each angle on his breast
Shall a cherub take the sun;
Rising, risen, sinking, down,
Weaving day's unequal crown.
* * * * *
With a free, unmeasured tread
Shall we pace the cloisters through:
Rest, enfranchised, like the Dead;
Rest till Love be born anew.
Weary Thought shall take his time,
Free of task-work, loosed from rhyme.
* * * * *
Measured bread shall build us up
At the hospitable board;
In Contentment's golden cup
Is the guileless liquor poured.
May the beggar pledge the king
In that spirit gathering.
Oh! My house is far away;
Yet it sometimes shuts me in.
Imperfection mars each day
While the perfect works begin.
In the house of labor best
Can I build the house of rest.
J. W. H.
On the fly-leaf of the Journal for 1896 is written:--
"That it may please Thee, to have mercy upon all men, we beseech Thee to
hear us, Good Lord."
"_January 1._ I ask for this year, or for so much of it as God may grant
me, that I may do some service in the war of civilization against
barbarism, in my own country and elsewhere."
"_January 18._... Re-wrote and finished my Easter poem, for which
_gratias Deo_! I have had so much small business that I almost despaired
of accomplishing this poem, of which the conception is good, but the
execution very faulty. I took it all to pieces to-day, kept the thoughts
and altered the arrangement."
"_January 23._ Dinner of Sorosis at the Waldorf, at 7 o'clock.
"Reached New York at 3 P.M. Elizabeth [Mrs. John Jay Chapman] had sent
maid and carriage for me, which was most kind. Had a good rest and a
short walk and went to Sorosis dinner, which was very brilliant and
fine. I was asked to speak and took for my topic, 'The Day of Small
Things'; the beginning of Sorosis and the New England Woman's Club,
considered so trifling a matter, yet very important because it had
behind it a very important principle; the fact that the time had come in
which women were bound to study, assist, and stand by each other. I
quoted Christ's saying about the mustard seed. Miss Barton's mission to
Armenia I called a mustard seed, and one which would have very important
results."
"_January 27...._ Wrote a few lines to Mrs. Charles A. Babcock, Oil
City, Pennsylvania, for a woman's issue of a paper called the 'Derrick.'
She wishes me to say what I thought would be the result of the 'women's
edition' fad. I said that one result would be to drive to desperation
those who receive letters, asking contributions to these issues."
"_February 9._ Another inspired sermon from C. G. Ames. Miss Page asked,
'Why is he so earnest? What does it mean?' I replied, 'He is in one of
those waves of inspiration which come sometimes. The angel has certainly
troubled the pool and we can go to it for healing.' Returning home, I
wrote some lines about my sister Annie's picture. I had in church a
momentary glimpse of the meaning of Christ's saying, 'I am the vine and
ye are the branches.' I felt how the source of our spiritual love is in
the heavenly fatherhood, and how departing from our sense of this we
become empty and barren. It was a moment of great comfort...."
"_February 10...._ Gulesian last evening said that the Armenians want me
to go to England, as a leader in advocacy of their cause. The thought
brought me a new feeling of energy and enthusiasm. I think I must first
help the cause in Washington, D.C."
"_February 26._ Hearing at State House on Suffrage. Worked at it [her
address] somewhat in the early morning. Was tolerably successful in
making my points. Was rather disappointed because no one applauded me.
Considered that this was a lesson that we must learn, to do without
praise. It comforted me to take it in this way. Soon the interest of
what the others said put my own matters quite out of my mind. The
hearing was a good one, all except a dreadful woman, calling herself a
Socialist, full of insufferable conceit and affectation of knowledge. An
English labor man spoke well."
"_March 22...._ As I left church, Mrs. James Freeman Clarke stopped me,
took both of my hands in hers and said she was sure that the world was
better for my having been in it. This from so undemonstrative a person
moved me a good deal and consoled me somewhat for my poor deserts and
performances in the past--a burden which often weighs heavily upon
me...."
"_April 2._ Conservatory of Music, 3 P.M. I went in fear and trembling
with a violent bronchial cold and cough, in a miserable storm. I prayed
all the way there that I might be pleasant in my demeanor, and I think
that I was, for my trouble at having to run such a risk soon went out of
my mind, and I enjoyed the occasion very much; especially meeting pupils
from so many distant States, and one or two from Canada."
"_April 8...._ I asked in my prayer this morning, feeling miserably dull
and weak, that some deed of help and love might be given me to
accomplish to-day. At noon came three gentlemen, Hagop Bogigian, Mr.
Blanchard, and Mr. Breed, of Lynn, praying me to make an appeal to the
women of America for their Armenian sisters, who are destroying
themselves in many instances to avoid Turkish outrage. The funds
subscribed for relief are exhausted and some new stimulus to rouse the
public is much needed.... I felt that I had had an answer to my
prayer...."
_To Maud_
241 BEACON STREET, April 18, 1896.
... Let me tell you now, lest you should hear of it in some other way,
that I was urged to go to England this summer to intercede with Queen
Victoria for the Armenians. I thought of it, but the plan seemed to me
chimerical and futile. I still have them and the Cretans greatly at
heart, but I don't think I could do any good in the way just mentioned.
I should have been glad to make a great sacrifice for these persecuted
people, but common sense must be adhered to, in all circumstances....
_To the same_
241 BEACON STREET, April 18, 1896.
... If you go to Russia, be careful to go as Mrs. John Elliott, not as
Maud Howe Elliott. Your name is probably known there as one of the
friends of "Free Russia," and you might be subjected to some annoyance
in consequence. You had better make acquaintance with our minister,
whoever he may be. The Russians seem now to have joined hands with the
Turks. If the American missionaries can only be got rid of, Russia, it
is said, will take Armenia under her so-called protection, and will
compel all Christians to join the Greek Church. There is so much spying
in Russia that you will have to be very careful what you talk about. I
rather hope you will not go, for a dynamite country is especially
dangerous in times of great public excitement, which the time of the
coronation cannot fail to be....
"_April 20._ F. J. Garrison called and made me an offer, on the part of
Houghton, Mifflin & Company, that they should publish my
'Reminiscences.'... I accepted, but named a year as the shortest time
possible for me to get such a book ready...."
As a matter of fact, it took three years for her to complete the
"Reminiscences." During these years, while she made it her principal
literary work, it still had to take its chance with the rest, to be laid
down at the call of the hour and taken up again when the insistence of
"screed" or poem was removed: this while in Boston or Newport. During
the Roman winter, soon to be described, she wrote steadily day by day;
but here she must still work at disadvantage, having no access to
journals or papers, depending on memory alone.
"_May 7._ Question: Cannot we follow up the Parliament of Religions by a
Pan-Christian Association? I will try to write about this."
"_May 19._ Had sought much for light, or a leading thought about what I
ought to do for Armenia.... Wrote fully to Senator Hoar, asking his
opinion about my going abroad and whether I could have any official
support."
"_May 28._ Moral Education Association, 10 A.M., Tremont Temple.
"I wish to record this thought which came to me on my birthday: As for
individuals, no bettering of fortunes compares in importance with the
bettering of character; so among nations, no extension of territory or
aggregation of wealth equals in importance the fact of moral growth. So
no national loss is to be deplored in comparison with loss of moral
earnestness."
"_Oak Glen, June 30...._ Finished this afternoon my perusal of the
'Memoir' of Mr. John Pickering. Felt myself really uplifted by it into
an atmosphere of culture and scholarship, rarely attained even by the
intelligent people whom we all know...."
"_July 12...._ I pray this morning for courage to undertake and fervor
to accomplish something in behalf of Christian civilization against the
tide of barbarism, which threatens to over-sweep it. This may be a
magazine article; something, at any rate, which I shall try to write.
"1 P.M. Have made a pretty good beginning in this task, having writ nine
pages of a screed under the heading: 'Shall the frontier of Christendom
be maintained and its domain extended?'"
_To Maud_
OAK GLEN, July 18, 1896.
MY DARLING WANDERER,--
Here I am comfortably settled for the summer, bathed in greenery and
good air. I had barely unpacked my books and papers when Daisy came out
on horseback to insist upon my paying her a visit. I did this, and went
to her on Wednesday, returning home on the following Monday. On the 4th
of July I attended, by invitation, the meeting of the Cincinnati in the
Old State House here. Cousin Nathanael Greene presided. Charles Howland
Russell read aloud the Declaration of Independence. Governor Lippitt
made an address in which he mentioned Governor Samuel Ward, my
great-grandfather.... I have a good piano this year. We went on Monday
last to see the furniture at Malbone, all of which has just been sold at
auction. A good deal of it was very costly and some of it very
handsome.... Apropos of worldly goods, Cornelius Vanderbilt has had a
stroke.
_To Laura_
OAK GLEN, July 25, 1896.
Oh, yes! you now and then do lend me a daughter, and so you'd ought to.
Which, didn't I profit by Alice's visit? My good woman (as poor, dear
----used to say when she was in wrath), I should think so. Clear comfort
the wretch was to me, wretch because she had such an old miserable to
look after. I sometimes catch myself thinking that, however it may be
with other families, your family, madam, came into this world for my
especial pleasure and comfort. What do you think of this view? No matter
what you think, dear, it won't make any difference as to facts.... I
miss even the youth in Alice's voice. I would like, mum, if you please,
mum, to enjoy about sixty years more of grandmotherhood, with fresh
crops of grandchildren coming up at reasonable intervals. Our life here,
this summer, is even unusually quiet. We have few visitors.... I am, as
usual, well content with my books, and busy with my papers. Flossy reads
aloud Green's "History of the English People" about half an hour daily,
after breakfast. The boys reluctantly submit to listen, fidgeting a
good deal. It is less readable for youth than I supposed it to be. We
play whist in the evening, and had a wood fire last evening, the weather
being suddenly cold. I learned yesterday, from the "'Tiser," the death
of Adolphe Mailliard [her brother-in-law] which has brought me many
sober thoughts, despite the trifling tone of this letter. I had waked
the day before, thinking that some one said to me "Mailliard is dying."
I recorded it in my Diary, but had no idea that I should so soon hear of
it as a reality. What a chapter ends with him!
"_August 15._ To-day is mercifully cool. I have about finished my A.A.W.
screed, _D.G._ The great heats have affected me very much; my brain has
been full of fever fancies and of nonsense. I prayed earnestly this
morning that I might not survive my wits. I have great hope that I shall
not...."
"_August 17._ Have read in Minot J. Savage's 'Four Great Questions,' and
in the long biography of my uncle, Rev. B. C. Cutler. His piety and
faithfulness appear to me most edifying. His theology at the present
time seems impossible. I am sorry that I saw so very little of him after
my marriage, but he was disposed to consider me as one of the lost, and
I could not have met him on any religious ground. I could do this better
now, having learned something of the value which very erroneous opinions
may have, when they serve, as in his case, to stimulate right effort and
true feeling."
_To Laura_
OAK GLEN, August 21, 1896.
Being in a spleeny and uncomfortable mood to-day, what resource so
legitimate as to betake myself to my own family? No particular reason
for growling, growly so much the more. If I only had a good grievance
now, how I would improve it! Well, you see, trouble is some of us have
not any money to speak of, and in consequence we ain't nobody, and so
on. There I hear the voice of my little mother Laura, saying: "Well,
well!" in her soothing way. The truth is, darling, that first I was
roasted out, and then it "friz horrid," and my poor old "conshushion"
couldn't quite stand it.... D' ye see? "Well, no," says Laura: "I don't
exactly see." Well, s'pose you don't--what then? You sweetheart, this is
just the way this old, unthankful sinner was taken, just now. But I've
got bravely over it, and I submit to health, comfort, delightful books,
young company and good friends. Edifying, ain't it? ...
"_September 15._ In the cars, reading the Duke of Argyll's fine
opuscule, 'Our [England's] Responsibilities for Turkey,' my heart was
lifted up in agonized prayer. I said, 'O God! give me a handwriting on
the wall, that I may truly know what I can do for these people.' And I
resolved not to go back from the purpose which prompted this prayer.
"Arrived at St. John [New Brunswick] and was made very welcome.
Reception in the evening by the ladies of the Council. Speeches: Rev.
Mr. De Wars, Anglican minister, spoke of our taking A.A.W. to England. I
wondered if this was my handwriting on the wall."
"_October 10._ Wheaton Seminary Club, Vendôme. Reminiscences of
Longfellow and Emerson.... As I was leaving one lady said to me, 'Mrs.
Howe, you have shocked me very much, and I think that when you go to the
other world, you will be sorry that you did not stay as you were,'
_i.e._, Orthodox instead of Unitarian. Miss Emerson apologized to me for
this rather uncivil greeting. I feel sure that the lady misunderstood
something in my lecture. What, I could not tell."
"_November 1._ The Communion service was very delightful. I prayed quite
earnestly this morning that the dimness of sight, which has lately
troubled me, might disappear. My eyes are really better to-day. I seemed
at one moment during the service to see myself as a little child in the
Heavenly Father's Nursery, having played my naughty pranks (alas!) and
left my tasks unperformed, but coming, as bedtime draws near, to kiss
and be forgiven."
_To Maud_
ROKEBY, BARRYTOWN, N.Y., December 25, 1896.
MY OWN DEAREST,--
I am here according to promise to spend Christmas with Daisy.[119] I
occupy Elizabeth Chanler's room, beautifully adorned with hangings of
poppy-colored silk.
[119] Mrs. Winthrop Chanler.
... All of us helped to dress the tree, which was really beautiful. The
farm people came in at about six o'clock, also the old tutor, Bostwick,
and the Armstrong cousins. After dinner, we had a fiddler in the hall.
Alida danced an Irish jig very prettily, and we had a Virginia reel,
which I danced, if you please, with Mr. Bostwick. Then we snuggled up to
the fire in the library and Wintie read aloud from Mark Twain's
"Huckleberry Finn."...
The year 1897 brought new activities. The Lodge Immigration Bill roused
her to indignation and protest; there were "screeds" and letters to the
powers that were.
In the early spring came another crisis in the East, Greece and Crete
bearing this time the brunt of Turkish violence. Thirty years had passed
since Crete made her first stand for independence; years of dumb
suffering and misery. Now her people rose again in revolt against their
brutal masters, and this time Greece felt strong enough to stand openly
by her Cretan brothers.
Our mother was deeply moved by this new need, which recalled so many
precious memories. The record of the spring of 1897 is much concerned
with it.
Written on the fly-leaf of the Journal: "The good God make me grateful
for this new year, of which I am allowed to see the beginning. Thy
kingdom come! I have many wishes, but this prayer will carry them all.
January 1, 1897.
"Oh, dear!"
"_January 4...._ Went in the evening to see the Smith College girls,
Class of '95, play 'Midsummer Night's Dream.' A most lovely and ideal
performance. Their representation of the Athenian clowns was incredibly
good, especially of Nick Bottom."
"_January 5._... Was grieved and shocked to learn early this morning
that my brilliant neighbor, General Francis A. Walker, had died during
the night. He always greeted me with chivalrous courtesy, and has more
than once given me his arm to help me homeward, when he has found me
battling with the high winds in or near Beacon Street...."
_To Maud_
241 BEACON STREET, BOSTON, January 18, 1897.
About the life "_à deux seulement_," I agree with you in thinking that
it is not good for either party. It is certainly very narrowing both to
the mind and to the affections, and is therefore to be avoided. A
reasonable amount of outside intercourse is a vital condition of good
living, even in the most sympathetic and intimate marriages, and the
knowledge of this is one of the strong points in the character of women
generally, who do nine tenths of what is done to keep up social
intercourse....
"_April 2._ Evening; celebration of twenty-fifth year of Saturday
Morning Club. Have writ draft of an open letter regarding Greek matters;
also finished a very short screed for this evening...."
"_April 18...._ I determined to work more for the Greeks and to try and
write something about the craze prevailing just now for the Eastern
religions, which are rather systems of speculation than of practical
religion."
_To Maud_
April 18, 1897.
... Mrs. Berdan made a visit here, and I gave a reception for her, and
took her to the great occasion of the Saturday Morning Club, celebrating
their twenty-fifth anniversary. The whole thing was very beautiful--the
reception was in the tapestry room of the Art Museum. I was placed in a
sort of throne chair, with the president and ex-presidents in a line at
my left, and the cream of Boston was all brought up and presented to me.
In another of the large rooms a stage had been arranged, and from this I
made my little speech. Then came some beautiful singing by Mrs. Tebbets,
with a small orchestral accompaniment, and then was given one act of
Tennyson's "Princess" and Browning's "In a Balcony." The place, the
performances, and the guests made this a very distinguished occasion. I
had gone just before this to see Louisa Cushing's wonderful acting in a
French play of the Commune. She possesses great tragic power and reminds
one of Duse and of Sarah Bernhardt. I suppose that H. M. H. has written
you of his appointment as Professor of Metallurgy, etc., at Columbia
College, New York. He and Fannie are much pleased with this, and it is
considered a very important step for him. I shall miss him a good deal,
but am glad of it for his sake. Michael[120] and I went yesterday to the
annual breakfast of the Charity Club. Greece had been made the topic of
the day. Michael made a splendid speech, and sang three stanzas of the
Greek National Hymn, albeit he cannot sing at all--he intoned it. I also
made a little speech, and some money was given to aid the Greek cause.
Hezekiah Butterworth was present, and I offered the following conundrum:
"What's butter worth?" Answer, "The cream of everything." Adieu, my
dearest.
[120] Anagnos.
Ever your loving
MOTHER.
"_April 26._ Received permission to use Faneuil Hall for a Woman's
Meeting of Aid and Sympathy for Greece...."
"_May 3._ Working at sending out notices of the Faneuil Hall meeting."
"_May 4._ The day was auspicious for our meeting. Although very tired
with the preparations, I wrote my little screed, dressed, and went
betimes to the Hall, where I was expected to preside. I found it
prettily arranged, though at very small expense. I wore as a badge a
tiny Greek flag made of blue and white ribbon, and brought badges of
these colors for the young ladies who were to take up the collection.
Many whom I had requested to come were present. Sarah Whitman, Lizzie
Agassiz, Mrs. Cornelius Felton, Mrs. Fields, Mrs. Whitney, besides our
Committee and Mrs. Barrows. M. Anagnos gave us the band of the
Institution, which was a great help. They played several times. I
introduced C. G. Ames, who made a prayer. My opening address followed.
Mmes. Livermore and Woolson, and Anagnos made the most important
addresses. As the band played 'America,' a young Greek came in, bearing
the Greek flag, which had quite a dramatic effect. The meeting was
enthusiastic and the contribution unusual for such a meeting, three
hundred and ninety-seven dollars and odd cents. Thank God for this
success."
"_May 13.... Head desperately bad in the morning._ ... Have done no good
work to-day, brain being unserviceable. Did, however, begin a short
screed for my speech at Unitarian Festival.
"The Round Table was most interesting. Rev. S. J. Barrows read a
carefully studied monograph of the Greek struggle for liberty. Mr.
Robinson, of the Art Museum, spoke mostly of the present desperate need.
I think I was called next. I characterized the Turks as almost '_ferae
naturae_.' Spoke of the low level of European diplomacy. Said that we
must fall back upon the ethical people, but hope for a general
world-movement making necessary the adoption of a higher level of
international relation--look to the religious world to uphold the
principle that no religion can henceforth be allowed to propagate itself
by bloodshed."
"_May 18._ A lecture at Westerly, Rhode Island.... My lameness made the
ascent of steps and stairs very painful...."
"_May 22._ Heard a delightful French Conference and reading from M.
Louis. Had a fit of timidity about the stairs, which were high and many;
finally got down. Had a worse one at home, where could not get up the
staircase on my feet, and had to execute some curious gymnastics to get
up at all."
"_May 25._ My knee was very painful in the night, and almost intolerable
in the morning, so sent for Wesselhoeft, who examined it and found the
trouble to proceed from an irritation of a muscle, probably rheumatic in
character. He prescribed entire rest and threatened to use a splint if
it should not soon be better. I must give up some of my many
engagements, and cannot profit by the doings of this week, alas!"
"_May 27._ I am to speak at the Unitarian Festival; dinner at 5 P.M.
"This is my seventy-eighth birthday. If the good God sees fit to grant
me another year, may He help me to fill it with good work. I am still
very lame, but perhaps a little better for yesterday's massage. Gifts of
flowers from many friends began early to arrive, and continued till late
in the evening. The house was resplendent and fragrant with them. I
worried somewhat about the evening's programme and what I should say,
but everything went well. Kind Dr. Baker Flynt helped me, cushion and
all, into Music Hall, and several gentlemen assisted me to the platform,
where I was seated between the Chairman of the Festival Committee and
Robert Collyer.... I desired much to have the word for the occasion, but
I am not sure whether I had."
"_June 2._ My first day of 'solitary confinement.'..."
_To Laura_
241 BEACON STREET, June 2, 1897.
As poor Susan Bigelow once wrote me:--
"The Buffalo lies in his lonely lair,
No friend nor agent visits him there."
She was lame at the time, and I had once called her, by mistake, "Mrs.
Buffalo." Well, perfidious William,[121] rivalling in tyranny the Sultan
of Turkey, has forbidden me to leave this floor. So here I sit, growly
and bad, but obliged to acquiescence in W.'s sentence....
[121] Dr. Wesselhoeft.
Affect.,
MUZ-WUZ.
_To Maud_
241 BEACON STREET, June 4, 1897.
DEAREST DEAR CHILD,--
First place, darling, dismiss from your mind the idea that reasonable
people to-day believe that the souls of men in the pre-Christian world
were condemned and lost. The old religions are generally considered
to-day as necessary steps in the religion of the human race, and
therefore as part of the plan of a beneficent Providence. The Jews were
people of especial religious genius, producing a wonderful religious
literature, and Christianity, which came out of Judaism, is, to my
belief, the culmination of the religious sense of mankind. But Paul
himself says, speaking to the Athenians, that "God hath not left himself
without a witness," at any time. I was brought up, of course, in the
old belief, which I soon dismissed as irreconcilable with any idea of a
beneficent Deity. As for the doctrine of regeneration, I think that by
being born again the dear Lord meant that we cannot apprehend spiritual
truths unless our minds are earnestly set upon understanding them. To
any one who has led a simple, material life, without aspiration or moral
reflection, the change by which his attention becomes fastened upon the
nobler aspect of character and of life is really like a new birth. We
may say the same of the love of high art and great literature. Some
people turn very suddenly from a frivolous or immoral life to a better
and more thoughtful way. They remember this as a sudden conversion. In
most of us, I think the change is more gradual and natural. The better
influences win us from the evil things to which most of us are in some
way disposed. We have to seek the one and to shun the other. I, for
example, am very thankful that my views of many things are unlike what
they were twenty or thirty or forty years ago. I attribute this change
mostly to good influences, reading, hearing sermons and high
conversation. These things often begin in an effort of will to "move up
higher." If I write more about this, I shall muddle myself and you. Only
don't distress yourself about regeneration. I think it mostly comes
insensibly, like a child's growth....
I attended the memorial meeting at the unveiling of the Shaw Monument.
You can't think how beautiful the work is. The ceremonies took place
Monday, beginning with a procession which came through Beacon Street.
Governor Wolcott, in a barouche and four, distinctly bowed to me. The
New York Seventh Regiment came on and marched beautifully; our Cadets
marched about as well. There was also a squad from our battleships, two
of which were in the harbor. At twelve o'clock we all went to Music Hall
where they sang my "Battle Hymn." The Governor and Mayor and Colonel
Harry Lee spoke. Willie James gave the oration and Booker Washington
really made _the_ address of the day, simple, balanced, and very
eloquent. I had a visit yesterday from Larz and Isabel [Anderson]. He
told me much about you. Darling, this is a very poor letter, but much
love goes with it.
Affectionate
MOTHER.
"_June 6._... Have writ a note to little John Jeffries, _aet._ six
years, who sent me a note in his own writing, with a dollar saved out of
five cents per week, for the 'poor Armenians.' He writes: 'I don't like
the Turks one bit. I think they are horrid.' Have sent note and dollar
to A. S. B. for the Armenian orphans."
"_June 27, Oak Glen._ My first writing in this dear place. Carrie Hall
yesterday moved me down into dear Chev's bedroom on the first floor,
Wesselhoeft having forbidden me to go up and down stairs. I rebelled
inwardly against this, but am compelled to acknowledge that it is best
so. Carrie showed great energy in moving down all the small objects to
which she supposed me to be attached. I have now had an exquisite
sitting in my green parlor, reading a sermon of dear James Freeman
Clarke's."
"_June 28._ Wrote my stint of 'Reminiscences' in the morning.... At
bedtime had very sober thoughts of the limitation of life. It seemed to
me that the end might be near. My lameness and the painful condition of
my feet appear like warnings of a decline of physical power, which could
only lead one way. My great anxiety is to see Maud before I depart."
"_July 10._ I dreamed last night, or rather this morning, that I was
walking as of old, lightly and without pain. I cried in my joy: 'Oh,
some one has been mind-curing me. My lameness has disappeared.' Have
writ a pretty good screed about John Brown."
"_July 22._... Dearest Maud and Jack arrived in the evening. So welcome!
I had not seen Jack in two years. I had begun to fear that I was never
to see Maud again."
"_July 26._ Had a little time of quiet thought this morning, in which I
seemed to see how the intensity of individual desire would make chaos in
the world of men and women if there were not a conquering and
reconciling principle of harmony above them all. This to my mind can be
no other than the infinite wisdom and infinite love which we call God."
"_August 18._ I prayed this morning for some direct and definite service
which I might render. At noon a reporter from the 'New York Journal'
arrived, beseeching me to write something to help the young Cuban girl,
who is in danger of being sent to the Spanish Penal Colony [Ceuta] in
Africa. I wrote an appeal in her behalf and suggested a cable to the
Pope. This I have already written. The Hearsts will send it. This was
an answer to my prayer. Our dear H. M. H. arrived at 3 P.M...."
"_August 29._ Had a little service for my own people, Flossy and her
four children. Spoke of the importance of religious culture. Read the
parable of the wise and foolish virgins. Flossy thought the wise ones
unkind not to be willing to share with the foolish. I suggested that the
oil pictured something which could not be given in a minute. Cited
Beecher's saying, which I have so long remembered, that we cannot get
religion as we order a suit of clothes. If we live without it, when some
overwhelming distress or temptation meets us, we shall not find either
the consolation or the strength which true faith gives."
"_September 23._ Have just learned by cable from Rome that my dearest
sister Louisa died yesterday morning. Let me rather hope that she awoke
from painful weakness and infirmity into a new glory of spiritual life.
Her life here has been most blameless, as well as most beautiful.
Transplanted to Rome in her early youth and beauty, she became there a
centre of disinterested hospitality, of love and of charity. She was as
rare a person in her way as my sweet sister Annie. Alas! I, of less
desert than either, am left, the last of my dear father's and mother's
children. God grant that my remaining may be for good! And God help me
to use faithfully my little remnant of life in setting my house in
order, and in giving such completeness as I can to my life-work, or
rather, to its poor efforts."
"_September 25._ Was sad as death at waking, pondering my many
difficulties. The day is most lovely. I have read two of Dr. Hedge's
sermons and feel much better. One is called 'The Comforter,' and was
probably written in view of the loss of friends by death. It speaks of
the spirit of a true life, which does not pass away when the life is
ended, but becomes more and more dear and precious to loving survivors.
The text, from John xvi, 7: 'It is expedient for you that I go away.'
Have writ a good screed about the Rome of 1843-44."
_To Laura_
OAK GLEN, September 27, 1897.
... My dear sister and I have lived so long far apart, that it is
difficult for me to have a _realizing sense_ of her departure. It is
only at moments that I can feel that we shall meet on earth no more. I
grieve most of all that my life has been so far removed from hers. She
has been a joy, a comfort, a delight to so many people, and I have had
so little of all this! The remembrance of what I have had is indeed most
precious, but alas! for the long and wide separation. What an enviable
memory she leaves! No shadows to dim its beauty.
I send you, dear, a statement regarding my relations with Lee and
Shepard. I am much disheartened about my poems and almost feel like
giving up. _But I won't._
Affect.,
MOTHER.
In November, 1897, she sailed for Italy with the Elliotts.
CHAPTER X
THE LAST ROMAN WINTER
1897-1898; _aet._ 78
THE CITY OF MY LOVE
She sits among th' eternal hills,
Their crown, thrice glorious and dear;
Her voice is as a thousand tongues
Of silver fountains, gurgling clear.
Her breath is prayer, her life is love,
And worship of all lovely things;
Her children have a gracious port,
Her beggars show the blood of kings.
By old Tradition guarded close,
None doubt the grandeur she has seen;
Upon her venerable front
Is written: "I was born a Queen!"
She rules the age by Beauty's power,
As once she ruled by armèd might;
The Southern sun doth treasure her
Deep in his golden heart of light.
Awe strikes the traveller when he sees
The vision of her distant dome,
And a strange spasm wrings his heart
As the guide whispers: "There is Rome!"
* * * * *
And, though it seem a childish prayer,
I've breathed it oft, that when I die,
As thy remembrance dear in it,
That heart in thee might buried lie.
J. W. H.
The closing verse of her early poem, "The City of My Love," expresses
the longing that, like Shelley's, her heart "might buried lie" in Rome.
Some memory of this wish, some foreboding that the wish might be
granted, possibly darkened the first days of her last Roman winter. In
late November of the year 1897 she arrived in Rome with the Elliotts to
pass the winter at their apartment in the ancient Palazzo Rusticucci of
the old Leonine City across the Tiber; in the shadow of St. Peter's,
next door to the Vatican. The visit had been planned partly in the hope
that she might once more see her sister Louisa. In this we know she was
disappointed. They reached Rome at the beginning of the rainy season,
which fell late that year. All these causes taken together account for
an unfamiliar depression that creeps into the Journal. She missed, too,
the thousand interests of her Boston life; her church, her club, her
meetings, all the happy business of keeping a grandmother's house where
three generations and their friends were made welcome. At home every
hour of time was planned for, every ounce of power well invested in some
"labor worthy of her metal." In Rome her only work at first was the
writing of her "Reminiscences" for the "Atlantic Monthly." Happily, the
depression was short-lived. Gradually the ancient spell of the Great
Enchantress once more enthralled her, but it was not until she had
founded a club, helped to found a Woman's Council, begun to receive
invitations to lecture and to preach, that the accustomed _joie de
vivre_ pulses through the record. The sower is at work again, the ground
is fertile, the seed quickening.
* * * * *
"_December 1._ The first day of this winter, which God help me to live
through! Dearest Maud is all kindness and devotion to me, and so is
Jack, but I have Rome _en grippe_; nothing in it pleases me."
"_December 6._ Something, perhaps it is the bright weather, moves me to
activity so strongly that I hasten to take up my pen, hoping not to
lapse into the mood of passive depression which has possessed me ever
since my arrival in Rome."
"_December 7._ We visited the [William J.] Stillmans--S. and I had not
met in thirty years, not since '67 in Athens. Went to afternoon tea at
Miss Leigh Smith's. She is a cousin of Florence Nightingale, whom she
resembles in appearance. Mme. Helbig was there, overflowing as ever with
geniality and kindness."
* * * * *
Mr. Stillman was then the Roman correspondent of the London "Times," a
position only second in importance to that of the British Ambassador.
His tall, lean figure, stooping shoulders,--where a pet squirrel often
perched,--his long grey beard and keen eyes were familiar to the Romans
of that day. His house was a meeting-place for artists and _litterati_.
Mrs. Stillman our mother had formerly known as the beautiful Marie
Spartali, the friend of Rossetti and Du Maurier, the idol of literary
and artistic London. A warm friendship grew up between them. Together
they frequented the antiquaries, gleaning small treasures of ancient
lace and peasant jewels.
"I bought this by the Muse Stillman's advice": this explanation
guaranteed the wisdom of purchasing the small rose diamond ring set in
black enamel.
"_December 9._ Dined with Daisy Chanler. We met there one Brewster and
Hendrik Anderson. After dinner came Palmer [son of Courtland] and his
sister. He is a pianist of real power and charm--made me think of
Paderewski, when I first heard him...."
"_December 10._ Drove past the Trevi Fountain and to the Coliseum, where
we walked awhile. Ladies came to hear me talk about Women's Clubs. This
talk, which I had rather dreaded to give, passed off pleasantly.... Most
of the ladies present expressed the desire to have a small and select
club of women in Rome. Maud volunteered to make the first effort, with
Mme. DesGrange and Jessie Cochrane to help her."
"_December 12._ Bessie Crawford brought her children to see me. Very
fine little creatures, the eldest boy[122] handsome, dark like his
mother, the others blond and a good deal like Marion in his early life."
[122] Harold Crawford, who was killed in the present war (1915),
fighting for the Allies.
"_December 14._ In the afternoon drove with Jack to visit Villegas.
Found a splendid house with absolutely no fire--the cold of the studio
was tomb-like. A fire was lighted in a stove and cakes were served, with
some excellent Amontillado wine, which I think saved my life."
"_December 18._ When I lay down to take my nap before dinner, I had a
sudden thought-vision of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. I
seemed to see how the human could in a way reflect the glory of the
divine, giving not a mechanical, but an affectional and spiritual
re-showing of the great unfathomable glory. I need not say that I had no
sleep--I wish the glimpse then given me might remain in my mind."
"_December 21._ Feeling much better in health, I determined to take up
my 'Reminiscences' again. Mme. Rose passed the evening with me. She told
me that Pio Nono had endorsed the Rosminian philosophy, which had had
quite a following in the Church, Cardinal Hohenlohe having been very
prominent in this. When Leo XIII was elected, the Jesuits came to him
and promised that he should have a Jubilee if he would take part against
the Rosminian ideas, and put the books on the Index Expurgatorius, the
which he promptly did. Hohenlohe is supposed to have been the real hero
of the poisoning described in Zola's 'Rome'--his servant died after
having eaten of something which had been sent from the Vatican."
"_December 25._ Blessed Christmas Day! Maud and I went to St. Peter's to
get, as she said, a whiff of the mass. We did not profit much by this,
but met Edward Jackson, of Boston, and Monsignor Stanley, whom I had not
seen in many years. We had a pleasant foregathering with him.
"In St. Peter's my mind became impressed with the immense intellectual
force pledged to the upbuilding and upholding of the Church of Rome. As
this thought almost overpowered me, I remembered our dear Christ
visiting the superb temple at Jerusalem and foretelling its destruction
and the indestructibility of his own doctrine."
On fair days she took her walk on the terrace, feasting her eyes on the
splendid view. In the distance the Alban and the Sabine Hills, Mount
Soracte and the Leonessa; close at hand the Tiber, Rome's towers and
domes, St. Peter's with the colonnade, the Piazza, and the sparkling
fountains. She delighted in the flowers of the terrace, which she called
her "hanging garden"; she had her own little watering-pot, and
faithfully tended the white rose which she claimed as her special
charge. From the terrace she looked across to the windows of the Pope's
private apartment. Opposed as she was to the Pontiff's policy, she still
felt a sympathy with the old man, whose splendid prison she often passed
on her way to St. Peter's, where in bad weather she always took her
walk.
"_December 31._ I am sorry to take leave of this year, which has given
me many good things, some blessings in disguise, as my lameness proved,
compelling me to pass many quiet days, good for study and for my
'Reminiscences,' which I only began in earnest after Wesselhoeft
condemned me to remain on one floor for a month."
"_January 3, 1898._ I feel that my 'Reminiscences' will be disappointing
to the world in general, if it ever troubles itself to read them,--I
feel quite sure that it has neglected some good writing of mine, in
verse and in prose. I cannot help anticipating for this book the same
neglect, and this discourages me somewhat.
"In the afternoon drove to Monte Janiculo and saw the wonderful view of
Rome, and the equestrian statue of Garibaldi crowning the height. We
also drove through the Villa Pamfili Doria, which is very beautiful."
"_January 6._ To visit Countess Catucci at Villino Catucci. She was a
Miss Mary Stearns, of Springfield, Massachusetts. Her husband has been
an officer of the King's bersaglieri. Before the unification of Italy,
he was sent to Perugia to reclaim deserters from among the recruits for
the Italian army. Cardinal Pecci was then living near Perugia. Count
Catucci called to assure him with great politeness that he would take
his word and not search his premises. The Cardinal treated him with
equal politeness, but declined to continue the acquaintance after his
removal to Rome, when he became Pope in 1878."
"_January 12._ The first meeting of our little circle--at Miss Leigh
Smith's, 17 Trinità dei Monti. I presided and introduced Richard Norton,
who gave an interesting account of the American School of Archæology at
Athens, and of the excavations at Athens.... Anderson to dine. He took a
paper outline of my profile, wishing to model a bust of me."
* * * * *
The Winthrop Chanlers were passing the winter in Rome; this added much
to her pleasure. The depression gradually disappeared, and she found
herself once more at home there. She met many people who interested her:
Hall Caine, Björnstjerne Björnson, many artists too. Don José Villegas,
the great Spanish painter (now Director of the Prado Museum at Madrid),
who was living in his famous Moorish villa on the Monte Parioli, made a
brilliant, realistic portrait of her, and Hendrik Anderson, the
Norwegian-American sculptor, modelled an interesting terra-cotta bust.
While the sittings for these portraits were going on, her niece said to
her:--
"My aunt, I can expect almost anything of you, but I had hardly expected
a _succès de beauté_."
Among the diplomats who play so prominent a part in Roman society, the
Jonkheer John Loudon, Secretary of the Netherlands Legation, was one of
her favorite visitors; there are frequent mentions of his singing, which
she took pleasure in accompanying.
"_January 15._ We had a pleasant drive to Villa Madama where we bought
fresh eggs from a peasant. Cola cut much greenery for us with which Maud
had our rooms decorated. Attended Mrs. Heywood's reception, where met
some pleasant people--the Scudder party; an English Catholic named
Christmas, who visits the poor, and reports the misery among them as
very great; a young priest from Boston, Monsignor O'Connell;[123] a Mr.
and Mrs. Mulhorn, Irish,--he strong on statistics, she a writer on
Celtic antiquities,--has published a paper on the Celtic origin of the
'Divina Commedia,' and has written one on the discovery of America by
Irish Danes, five hundred years before Columbus."
[123] Now Cardinal O'Connell.
* * * * *
Mr. and Mrs. J. C. Heywood lived a few doors from the Rusticucci in the
Palazzo Giraud Torlonia, one of the finest Roman palaces. Mr. Heywood
held an office in the Papal Court, and had a papal title which he was
wise enough not to use in general society. He was an American, a Harvard
graduate of the class of 1855. His chief occupation, outside of his
duties at the Vatican, was the collection of a fine library. His house
was a rendezvous of Black[124] society. He lived in much state and
entertained with brilliant formality. Among the great social events of
that winter was his reception given for Cardinal Satolli, who arrived
dressed in splendid vestments, escorted by his suite. The hostess
courtesied to the ground and kissed the ring on his finger. All the
other Catholic ladies followed suit. Sitting very straight in her chair,
our mother bided her time; finally the Cardinal was brought to her. He
was a genial, courteous man and very soon they were deep in friendly
talk. Though she disliked the Roman hierarchy as an institution, she
counted many friends among the priests of Rome.
[124] _I.e._, Clerical.
"_January 18._ To St. Peter's. The Festival of St. Peter's Chair.
Vespers in the usual side chapel. Music on the whole good, some sopranos
rather ragged, but parts beautifully sung. Was impressed as usual by the
heterogeneous attendance--tourists with campstools and without,
ecclesiastics of various grades, students, friars; one splendid
working-man in his corduroys stood like a statue, in an attitude of
fixed attention. Lowly fathers and mothers carrying small children. One
lady, seated high at the base of a column, put her feet on the seat of
my stool behind me. Saw the gorgeous ring on the finger of the statue of
St. Peter."
"_January 19._ Have composed a letter to Professor Lanciani, asking for
a talk on the afternoon of February 9, proposing 'Houses and
Housekeeping in Ancient Rome,' and 'The Sibyls of Italy.' Mr. Baddeley
came in, and we had an interesting talk, mostly about the ancient
Cæsars, Mrs. Hollins asking, 'Why did the Romans put up with the bad
Cæsars?' He thought the increase of wealth under Augustus was the
beginning of a great deterioration of the people and the officials."
"_January 21._ Went in the afternoon to call upon Baroness Giacchetti.
Had a pleasant talk with her husband, an enlightened man. He recognizes
the present status of Rome as greatly superior to the ancient order of
things--but laments the ignorance and superstition of the common people
in general, and the peasantry in particular. A sick woman, restored to
health by much trouble taken at his instance, instead of thanking him
for his benefactions, told him that she intended to make a pilgrimage to
the shrine of a certain Madonna, feeling sure that it was to her that
she owed her cure."
"_January 26._ The day of my reading before the Club, at Jessie
Cochrane's rooms. I read my lecture over very carefully in the forenoon
and got into the spirit of it. The gathering was a large one, very
attentive, and mostly very appreciative. The paper was 'Woman in the
Greek Drama.'"
"_January 31._ Have made a special prayer that my mind may be less
occupied with my own shortcomings, and more with all that keeps our best
hope alive. Felt little able to write, but produced a good page on the
principle '_nulla dies sine linea_.'"
"_February 4._ Hard sledding for words to-day--made out something about
Theodore Parker."
"_February 7._ Wrote some pages of introduction for the
Symposium--played a rubber of whist with L. Terry; then to afternoon tea
with Mrs. Thorndike, where I met the first Monsignor [Dennis] O'Connell,
with whom I had a long talk on the woman question, in which he seems
much interested. He tells me of a friend, Zahm by name, now gone to a
place in Indiana, who has biographies of the historical women of
Bologna."
"_February 9._ Club at Mrs. Broadwood's. I read my 'Plea for Humor,'
which seemed to please the audience very much, especially Princess
Talleyrand and Princess Poggia-Suasa."
"_February 11._ Read over my paper on 'Optimism and Pessimism' and have
got into the spirit of it. Maud's friends came at 3 P.M., among them
Christian Ross, the painter, with Björnstjerne Björnson."
"_February 16._ To Mrs. Hurlburt's reception.--Talked with Countess
Blank, an American married to a Pole. She had much to say of the piety
of her Arab servant, who, she says, swallows fire, cuts himself with
sharp things, etc., as acts of devotion!! Met Mr. Trench, son of the
late Archbishop, Rev. Chevenix Trench. He has been Tennyson's publisher.
Did not like T. personally--said he was often rude--read his own poems
aloud constantly and very badly; said, 'No man is a hero to his
publisher.' Told about his sale of Henry George's book, a cheap edition,
one hundred and fifty thousand copies sold in England."
"_February 18._ Have done a good morning's work and read in the
'Nineteenth Century' an article on Nelson, and one on the new astronomy.
St. Thomas Aquinas's advice regarding the election of an abbot from
three candidates:--
"'What manner of man is the first?'
"'_Doctissimus._'
"'_Doceat_,' says St. Thomas. 'And the second?'
"'_Sanctissimus._'
"'_Oret!_ and the third?'
"'_Prudentissimus!_'
"'_Regat!_ Let him rule!' says the Saint."
"_February 20._ To Methodist Church of Rev. Mr. Burt. A sensible short
discourse--seems a very sincere man: has an earlier service for
Italians, well attended. On my way home, stopped at Gargiulo's and
bought a ragged but very good copy of the 'Divina Commedia,' unbound,
with Doré's illustrations."
"_February 26._ To tea at Mrs. Hazeltine's where met William Allen
Butler, author of 'Nothing to Wear'--a bright-eyed, conversable man.
Have a sitting to Anderson. When I returned from Mrs. Hazeltine's I
found Hall Caine.... He told much about Gabriel Rossetti, with whom he
had much to do. Rossetti was a victim of chloral, and Caine was set to
keep him from it, except in discreet doses."
"_March 4._ Went to see the King and Queen, returning from the review of
troops. They were coldly received. She wore crimson velvet--he was on
horseback and in uniform...."
"_March 9._ Club at Jessie Cochrane's; young Loyson, son of Père
Hyacinthe, gave an interesting lecture on the religion of Ancient Rome,
which he traced back to its rude Latin beginning; the Sabines, he
thought, introduced into it one element of spirituality. Its mythology
was borrowed from Greece and from the Etruscans--later from Egypt and
the East. The Primitive Aryan religion was the worship of ancestors.
This also we see in Rome. A belief in immortality appears in the true
Aryan faith. Man, finding himself human, and related to the divine, felt
that he could not die."
"_March 15_.... Mme. Helbig gave us an account of the Russian pilgrimage
which came here lately. Many of the pilgrims were peasants. They
travelled from Russia on foot, wearing bark shoes, which are very
yielding and soft. These Russian ladies deprecated the action of Peter
the Great in building St. Petersburg, and in forcing European
civilization upon his nation, when still unprepared for it."
"_March 18_.... Drove with Maud, to get white thorn from Villa Madama.
Went afterwards to Mrs. Waldo Story's reception, where met Mrs.
McTavish, youngest daughter of General Winfield Scott. I was at school
with one of her older sisters, Virginia, who became a nun."
* * * * *
As the winter wore away and the early Roman spring broke, the last
vestige of the discomfort of the first weeks vanished. The daily drives
to the country in search of wild flowers were an endless delight, as
well as the trips to the older quarters of the city. She found that,
while during the first weeks she had lost the habit of looking keenly
about at the sights, the old joy soon came back to her, and now she was
quick to see every picturesque figure in the crowd, every classic
fragment in the architecture. "The power of seeing beautiful things,
like all other powers, must be exercised to be preserved," she once
said.
"_March 19._ I have not dared to work to-day, as I am to read this
afternoon. The reading was well attended and was more than well
received. Hall Caine came afterwards, and talked long about the Bible.
He does not appear to be familiar with the most recent criticism of
either Old or New Testament."
"_March 24._ 'There is a third silent party to all our bargains.'
[Emerson.]
"I find this passage in his essay on 'Compensation' to-day for the first
time, having written my essay on 'Moral Triangulation of the Third
Party' some thirty years ago."
"_March 26._ Dined with Mrs. McCreary--the Duke of San Martino took me
in to dinner--Monsignor Dennis O'Connell sat on the other side of me. I
had an interesting talk with him. Mrs. McCreary sang my 'Battle Hymn.'
They begged me to recite 'The Flag,' which I did. Mrs. Pearse, daughter
of Mario and Grisi, sang delightfully."
"_March 30._ A fine luncheon party given by Mrs. Iddings, wife of the
American Secretary of Embassy at the Grand Hotel. Mme. Ristori was
there; I had some glimpses of reminiscence with her. I met her with 'La
terribil' Medea,' which I so well remember hearing from her. I
presently quoted her toast in 'La Locandiera,' of which she repeated the
last two lines. Maud had arranged to have Mrs. Hurlburt help me home.
Contessa Spinola also offered, but I got off alone, came home in time to
hear most of Professor Pansotti's lecture on the Gregorian music, which,
though technical, was interesting."
"_March 31._ I woke up at one, after vividly dreaming of my father and
Dr. Francis. My father came in, and said to me that he wished to speak
to Miss Julia alone. I trembled, as I so often did, lest I was about to
receive some well-merited rebuke. He said that he wished my sister and
me to stay at home more. I saw the two faces very clearly. My father's I
had not seen for fifty-nine years."
"_April 6._ Went in the afternoon with Mrs. Stillman to the Campo dei
Fiori, where bought two pieces of lace for twenty _lire_ each, and a
little cap-pin for five _lire_. Saw a small ruby and diamond ring which
I very much fancied."
"_April 10._ Easter Sunday, passed quietly at home. Had an early walk on
the terrace.... A good talk with Hamilton Aïdé, who told me of the
Spartali family. In the afternoon to Lady Kenmare's reception and later
to dine with the Lindall Winthrops."
"_April 11._ In the afternoon Harriet Monroe, of Chicago, came and read
her play--a parlor drama, ingenious and well written. The audience were
much pleased with it."
"_April 13_.... In the evening dined with Theodore Davis and Mrs.
Andrews. Davis showed us his treasures gathered on the Nile shore and
gave me a scarab."
"_April 18._... Went to hear Canon Farrar on the 'Inferno' of Dante--the
lecture very scholarly and good."
"_April 22._ With Anderson to the Vatican, to see the Pinturicchio
frescoes, which are very interesting. He designed the tiling for the
floors, which is beautiful in color, matching well with the
frescoes--these represent scenes in the life of the Virgin and of St.
Catherine...."
"_April 24._ To Miss Leigh Smith's, where I read my sermon on the 'Still
Small Voice' to a small company of friends, explaining that it was
written in the first instance for the Concord Prison, and that I read it
there to the convicts. I prefaced the sermon by reading one of the
parables in my 'Later Lyrics,' 'Once, where men of high pretension,'
etc...."
This was one of several occasions when she read a sermon at the house of
Miss Leigh Smith, a stanch Unitarian, who lived at the Trinità de' Monti
in the house near the top of the Spanish Steps, held by generations of
English and American residents the most advantageous dwelling in Rome.
On Sunday mornings, when the bells of Rome thrilled the air with the
call to prayer, a group of exiles from many lands gathered in the
pleasant English-looking drawing-room. From the windows they could look
down upon the flower-decked Piazza di Spagna, hear the song of the
nightingales in the Villa Medici, breathe the perfume of violets and
almond blossoms from the Pincio. This morning, or another, Paul
Sabatier was among the listeners, a grave, gracious man, a Savoyard
pastor, whose "Life of Saint Francis of Assisi" had set all Rome
talking.
"_April 25._ To lunch with the Drapers. Had some good talk with Mr. D.
[the American Ambassador]. He was brought up at Hopedale in the
Community, of which his father was a member, his mother not altogether
acquiescing. He went into our Civil War when only twenty years of age,
having the day before married a wife. He was badly wounded in the battle
of the Wilderness. Mosby [guerilla] met the wounded train, and stripped
them of money and watches, taking also the horses of their conveyances.
A young Irish lad of fourteen saved Draper's life by running to Bull
Plain for aid."
"_April 26._ Lunch at Daisy Chanler's, to meet Mrs. Sanford, of
Hamilton, Canada, who is here in the interests of the International
Council of Women. She seems a nice, whole-souled woman.... I have
promised to preside at a meeting, called at Daisy's rooms for Thursday,
to carry forward such measures as we can and to introduce Mrs. Sanford
and interpret for her."
"_April 27._ Devoted the forenoon to a composition in French, setting
forth the objects of the meeting...."
"_April 28._ Went carefully over my French address. In the afternoon
attended the meeting at Daisy's where I presided."
This was the first time the Italian women had taken part in the
International Council.
"_April 30._ To Contessa di Taverna at Palazzo Gabrielli, where I met
the little knot of newly elected officers of the Council of Italian
Women that is to be. Read them my report of our first meeting--they
chattered a great deal. Mrs. Sanford was present. She seemed grateful
for the help I had tried to give to her plan of a National Council of
Italian Women. I induced the ladies present to subscribe a few _lire_
each, for the purchase of a book for the secretary, for postage and for
the printing of their small circular. Hope to help them more further
on...."
"_May 1._... I gave my 'Rest' sermon at Miss Leigh Smith's....
Afterwards to lunch with the dear Stillman Muse. Lady Airlie and the
Thynne sisters were there. Had a pleasant talk with Lady Beatrice....
Wrote a letter to be read at the Suffrage Festival in Boston on May
17...."
Lady Beatrice and Lady Katherine Thynne; the latter was married later to
Lord Cromer, Viceroy of Egypt. The Ladies Thynne were passing the winter
with their cousin, the Countess of Kenmare, at her pleasant apartment in
the Via Gregoriana. Among the guests one met at Lady Kenmare's was a
dark, handsome Monsignore who spoke English like an Oxford Don, and
looked like a Torquemada. Later he became Papal Secretary of State and
Cardinal Merry del Val.
"_May 2._ Have worked as usual. A pleasant late drive. Dined with
Eleutherio,[125] Daisy Chanler, and Dr. Bull; whist afterwards; news of
an engagement and victory for us off Manila."
[125] Her brother-in-law, Luther Terry.
"_May 4_.... We dined with Marchese and Marchesa de Viti de Marco at
Palazzo Orsini. Their rooms are very fine, one hung with beautiful
crimson damask. An author, Pascarello, was present, who has written
comic poems in the Romanesque dialect, the principal one a mock
narrative of the discovery of America by Columbus. Our host is a very
intelligent man, much occupied with questions of political economy, of
which science he is professor at the Collegio Romano. His wife, an
American, is altogether pleasing. He spoke of the present Spanish War,
of which foreigners understand but little."
"_May 5._ A visit from Contessa di Taverna to confer with me about the
new departure [the International Council of Women]. She says that the
ladies will not promise to pay the stipulated contribution, five hundred
_lire_ once in five years, to the parent association...."
"_May 8._ An exquisite hour with dear Maud on the terrace--the roses in
their glory, red, white, and yellow; honeysuckle out, brilliant. We sat
in a sheltered spot, talked of things present and to come. Robert
Collyer to lunch. I asked him to say grace, which he did in his lovely
manner. He enjoyed Maud's terrace with views of St. Peter's and the
mountains. In the afternoon took a little drive.
"Several visitors called, among them Louisa Broadwood, from whom I
learned that the little Committee for a Woman's Council is going on. The
ladies have decided not to join the International at present, but to try
and form an Italian Council first. Some good results are already
beginning to appear in the coöperation of two separate charities in some
part of their work."
"_May 9._ I must now give all diligence to my preparation for departure.
Cannot write more on 'Reminiscences' until I reach home. Maud made a
dead set against my going to Countess Resse's where a number of ladies
had been invited to meet me. I most unwillingly gave up this one
opportunity of helping the Woman's Cause; I mean this one remaining
occasion, as I have already spoken twice to women and have given two
sermons and read lectures five times. It is true that there might have
been some exposure in going to Mme. R.'s, especially in coming out after
speaking."
A few years after this, the Association which she did so much to found,
held the first Woman's Congress ever given in Italy, at the Palace of
Justice in Rome. It was an important and admirably conducted convention.
The work for the uplift of the sex is going on steadily and well in
Italy to-day.
"_May 12._ Sat to Villegas all forenoon. Had a little time on the
terrace. Thought I would christen it the 'Praise God.' The flowers seem
to me to hold their silent high mass, swinging their own censers of
sweet incense. Went to Jack's studio and saw his splendid work.[126] In
the afternoon went with my brother-in-law to the cemetery to visit dear
Louisa's grave. Jack had cut for me many fine roses from the terrace.
We dropped many on this dear resting-place of one much and justly
beloved.... Dear old Majesty of Rome, this is my last writing here. I
thank God most earnestly for so much."
[126] Elliott was at work upon his Triumph of Time, a ceiling decoration
for the Boston Public Library.
CHAPTER XI
EIGHTY YEARS
1899-1900; _aet._ 80-81
HUMANITY
Methought a moment that I stood
Where hung the Christ upon the Cross,
Just when mankind had writ in blood
The record of its dearest loss.