LIFE IN SALEM
The Hawthornes now moved to Salem, where they remained for several
years.
Washington's Birthday, 1846.
TRUE MOTHER,--Through the howling storm your little box of benefits
came safely. I was especially grateful to hear from you, because I had
read in the paper of Mr. Mann's walking into the dock, and feared he
might be very ill after it. I was exceedingly relieved to hear that
he was none the worse for such an unexpected baptism. I thought that
after getting tired and heated by lecturing, the transition might be
almost mortal for his delicate frame. I, in my old-fashioned
simplicity of faith, would have it that God saved him. My husband has
found "The Christmas Banquet," and he has made up the second volume,
which I send with this, for dear father to transmit to New York. The
second volume must be printed first, because he has not long enough
dreamed over the new tale or essay which is to commence the first
volume. From all question as to what this precious web may be, last
woven in the loom of his genius, I sacredly abstain till the fullness
of time. Oh, I am so glad that these scattered jewels are now to be
set together!
"Zuna" is spreading out her painted tea-set upon a little oval tray
that came from beyond sea, in her father's childhood. She plays
tea-drinking with infinite grace and skill. Last week Louisa Hawthorne
and I spent the day with Mrs. Dike, and Una behaved like a consummate
lady, although she frolicked like a child. Mrs. Dike gave her some
beautiful silver playthings, with which she had a tea-party. Rebecca
Manning [a little cousin] was there, and over their airy tea Una
undertook to be agreeable, and began of her own accord to converse,
and tell Rebecca about her life in Concord. She said, "In Tontord Zuna
went out into the orchard and picked apples in her little basket, for
papa and mamma to eat." And then, with a countenance and tone of
triumph, she exclaimed, "And papa's boat!"
A long letter written by George William Curtis is a bright ray from a
beautiful personality, containing these descriptions:--
ROME, January 14, 1847.
MY DEAR FRIENDS,--How often in the long sunny silence of that summer
voyage, when in the Atlantic all day the sea rippled as gently about
the ship as the waters of Walden pour against their shore, and in the
Mediterranean the moon would have no other mirror, but entranced its
waves to an oily calmness in which she shone unbroken, did I figure
you gliding with us on our fairy way to France, Italy, and in the next
summer, Switzerland! One day in our voyage we passed the Straits of
Gibraltar--seeing land for the first time in twenty-eight days. We
came so near and passed so rapidly, saw so distinctly the dusky gray
olive foliage of Spain and the little round towers whence the old
Spaniards looked for the Moors; and on the other side, so grim and
lonely, the intricate mountain outline of Africa, so distinctly, and
at night again, and for many days after, the same broad water; that it
lies more dreamily in my memory than anything else. . . . On the
forty-fifth day I stepped ashore in France; but not without more
regret than I thought possible, for the ship; and one of the crew, of
my own age, with whom I had seen the stars fade in the morning during
his watch, had become very dear to me. Yet in Marseilles everything
was quaint. . . . The same features I had always known in a
city,--men, houses, streets, squares; but with an expression unknown
before. At night, with my sailor friend, I threaded some of the
narrower streets, which were like corridors in an unshapely Titan
palace. At the doors of the smallest shops on each side sat the
spinsters in the moonlight, gossiping and knitting; while over them
bent old French tradesmen, in long yarn stockings and velvet
knee-breeches. The street was barely wide enough for a carriage, and
they talked across; and all was as gay and happy as Arcadia. Every day
[in Florence], I was in the galleries, which are freely open to every
one, and here saw the grandest works of Raphael in his middle and best
style. Of the wonderful feminine grace and tenderness of these, of
which no copy can give an idea, I cannot properly speak. From him only
have I received the idea of the Immaculate Mother--the union of
celestial superiority with human maternity. The innumerable other
Madonnas are beautiful pictures; but they are either mere mothers or
mere angels. It is the same union in kind with what you may observe in
his portrait, where masculine character is so blended and tempered
with feminine grace and flexibility. Raphael is the clear, deep,
beautiful eye, in which and through which is seen the undoubted
heaven. . . .
How glad I am that I have a right to send you a letter! I have left a
small space into which to squeeze a large love, which I send to Mrs.
H., with my thanks for her kind letter, which could not come too late,
and which I am very sure highly gratified Mr. Crawford. He desires to
make his especial regards to Mrs. H., and said that he should write
her a note, if it were not too great a liberty, which he would send in
a letter to Mrs. Howe. Mention my name to Una; for in some dim
remembrance of Concord meadows I may then figure as a shadowy faun. A
long, pleasant letter from George Bradford, the other day, gave me the
last news from our old home, which is very placid and beautiful in my
memory. I should love to see Ellery Channing's new book. But I am
sure that he will never forgive himself for coming to Rome for sixteen
days. I am sorry to say good-by. G. W. CURTIS.
While on a visit to her mother, Mrs. Hawthorne writes to her
husband:--
BOSTON, July.
. . . I received your most precious letter yesterday. I do not need to
stand apart from daily life to see how fair and blest our lot is.
Every mother is not like me--because not every mother has such a
father for her children; so that my cares are forever light. Am I not
eminently well, round, and rubicund? Even in the very centre of
simultaneous screams from both darling little throats, I am quite as
sensible of my happiness as when the most dulcet sounds are issuing
thence. I have suffered only for you, in my babydom. You ought not to
be obliged to undergo the wear and tear of the nursery; it is contrary
to your nature and your mood. You were born to muse, and through
undisturbed dreams to enlighten the world. Una mourns for you. "Oh, I
must go home to see my papa! Oh, when are we going to Salem?" Her
little heart has enough of mine in it to feel widowed without you.
Julian does not walk yet; but he understands everything, and talks a
great deal.
There was a sharp contrast between Mrs. Hawthorne's earlier life of
intercourse with trooping, charming friends, and devotion to art and
literature, and the toils of motherhood in poverty which now absorbed
her days. She refers to this new order of existence with joyful
patience in the following letters to Mrs. Peabody:--
SALEM, September, 1848.
Dora Golden [Julian's nurse] takes this to you. She deferred her
visit to Boston for my convenience, because Mr. Hawthorne thought of
going to Temple, to visit General Miller; but he did not go. Mr.
Hawthorne will contribute to Elizabeth's book, but not for pay. Mary
Chase took Una and me to Nahant to see Rebecca Kinsman at her cottage.
It was a dear little nest, on the brow of a hill commanding the
boundless sea. Una flew around like a petrel; only that her hair
floated golden in the sunshine, and the petrel's feathers are gray.
You are quite right; I am so happy that I require nothing more. No art
nor beauty can excel my daily life, with such a husband and such
children, the exponents of all art and beauty. I really have not even
the temptation to go out of my house to find anything better. Not
that I enjoy less any specimen of earthly or heavenly grace when I
meet it elsewhere; but I have so much in perpetual presence that I am
not hungry for such things.
November 19, 1848.
I intended almost every day last week to go to Boston, but was
detained by various circumstances. Among other things, Mr. Daniel
Webster was to come to lecture, and I thought I must wait to hear him.
I am glad I did, for it was a very useful lecture, and in some parts
quite grand. It was upon the Constitution--a noble subject. You know
he is particularly designated as the Expounder of the Constitution.
He stood like an Egyptian column, solid and without any Corinthian
grace, but with dignity and composed majesty. He gave a simple
statement of facts concerning the formation of our united government;
and towards the close, he now and then thundered, and his great
cavernous eyes lightened, as he eloquently showed how noble and
wonderful it was, and how astonishing the sagacity and insight of
those young patriots had been in the memorable Congress. The old Lion
walked the stage with a sort of repressed rage, when he referred to
those persons who cried out, "Down with the Constitution!" "Madmen! Or
most wicked if not mad!" said he, with a glare of fire, as he looked
about him. He had risen with his hat in his hand, and held it all the
time, making no gestures excepting once, when he referred to the
American eagle and flag. He then raised his hand and pointed as if the
eagle were cleaving the air; and he said, "Who calls this the
Massachusetts eagle, the Illinois eagle,--or this the Virginia flag,
or the New Hampshire flag? Are they not the American eagle and the
American flag? And wherever the flag waves, let him touch it who
dares!" His voice and glance as he pronounced these words were the
artillery of a storm; and they were followed by tremendous rolls of
applause. Mr. Hawthorne, who is one of the managers of the Lyceum (!)
was deputed to go on Monday to West Newton, to see Mr. Mann about
lecturing here.
Sophia writes to Mrs. Mann, then in Washington:--
"Is Congress behaving any worse than usual? The members are always
giving the lie and seizing each other by the collar, ever since the
grave and majestic days of the first Sessions, it seems to me. But we
have not got to being quite such monkeys as the French are in their
Assemblies. Mrs. George Peabody, a week or two ago, gave a great
ball, to which she invited us. I heard that Mr. Peabody had put his
magnificent Murillo picture in the finest light imaginable, having
built a temporary oratory for it, on the piazza upon which the library
opens. The library was dark as night, and as I entered it, the only
object I could see was this divine Madonna at the end of the
illuminated oratory. It is the Annunciation. There is not the
smallest glory of color in the picture. The power, the wonder of the
picture, is the beauty of the expression and features. Her eyes are
lifted and her hands crossed upon her bosom. The features seem hardly
material, such a fineness and spiritual light transfigure them. It is
the greatest picture I ever saw."
A fragment of a letter suggests a lecture and a great innovation.
"My husband bought a ticket for himself, and went with me!! Mr. Alcott
spent an evening with us a week or more ago, and was very interesting;
telling, at my request, about his youth, and peddling, etc. There were
six ladies and six gentlemen present last Monday evening. They
assembled at Mr. Stone's. Miss Hannah Hodges, Mrs. J. C. Lee, and two
ladies whom I did not know, besides Mrs. Stone and myself; Mr.
Frothingham, Mr. William Silsbee, Mr. Shackford, of Lynn, Mr. Pike,
Mr. Streeter, and my husband, besides Mr. Stone and his son. Mr.
Alcott said he would commence with the Nativity, and first read
Milton's Hymn. Then he retreated to his corner, and for about an hour
and three quarters kept up an even flow of thought, without a word
being uttered by any other person present. Then Mr. Stone questioned
him upon his use of the word 'artistic;' which provoked a fine
analysis from him of the word 'artist' as distinguished from
'artisan.' I thought the whole monologue very beautiful and clear.
This evening Mr. Thoreau is going to lecture, and will stay with us.
His lecture before was so enchanting; such a revelation of nature in
all its exquisite details of wood-thrushes, squirrels, sunshine, mists
and shadows, fresh, vernal odors, pine-tree ocean melodies, that my
ear rang with music, and I seemed to have been wandering through copse
and dingle! Mr. Thoreau has risen above all his arrogance of manner,
and is as gentle, simple, ruddy, and meek as all geniuses should be;
and now his great blue eyes fairly outshine and put into shade a nose
which I once thought must make him uncomely forever."
Several letters from Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne break in upon the usual
quietude with allusions to the real hardship of public misapprehension;
yet no false statements and judgments were ever more coolly received.
Still, Mrs. Hawthorne writes with an excited hand:--
June 8, 1849.
MY DEAR FATHER,--Mr. Hawthorne received news by telegraph to-day that
he is turned out of office headlong. I have written to mother, and
told her, fearing she would hear of it accidentally. We are not cast
down at all, and do not be anxious for us. You will see by my letter
to mother how we are hopeful and cheerful about it, and expect better
things. The cock is crowing the noon of night and I must to bed. I
have written a long letter to mother. We are all well. Your
affectionate daughter,
SOPHIA.
The letter to her mother has not been completely preserved, but
runs:--
. . . The telegraph to-day brought us news that would have made the
cottage [at Lenox] particularly acceptable, because we could have
lived there upon our own responsibility--for the Old General has
turned Mr. Hawthorne out of the Surveyorship. Do not be troubled;
for we are not.
Mr. Hawthorne never liked the office at all, and is rather relieved
than otherwise that it is taken out of his hands, and has an inward
confidence that something much better and more suitable for him will
turn up. As for me, you know I am composed of Hope and Faith, and
while I have my husband and the children I feel as if Montezuma's
diamonds and emeralds were spiritually in my possession. But we look
forward with a kind of rapture to the possibility of now going into
the country somewhere this summer, and setting Una down in a field,
where she so pines to go. Meantime, the newly appointed Surveyor's
commission has not arrived, and so Mr. Hawthorne is not yet out of
office.
I have not seen my husband happier than since this turning out. He has
felt in chains for a long time, and being a MAN, he is not alarmed at
being set upon his own feet again,--or on his head, I might say,--for
that contains the available gold, of a mine scarcely yet worked at
all. As Margaret [Fuller] truly said once, "We have had but a drop or
so from that ocean." We are both perfectly well, too, and brave with
happiness, and "a credence in our hearts, and esperance so absolutely
strong, as doth outvie the attest of eyes and ears." (So Shakespeare
somewhere speaks for us, somewhat so--but not verbatim, for I forget
one or two words.)
Above all, it has come in the way of an inevitable Providence to us
(whatever knavery some people may have to answer for, who have been
the agents in the removal), and I never receive inevitable Providences
with resignation merely; but with joy, as certainly, undoubtedly, the
best possible events that can happen for me--and immediately I begin
to weave the apparent straw into gold, like the maiden in the fairy
tale.
Good-by now, dear mother. Do not be anxious. I should not have told
you this now--fearing you might be troubled--but I was afraid you
might see the removal in the papers, or hear of it; and I thought it
best to let you know just how it is with us, so that you might not
have a shock. Your most affectionate child,
SOPHIA.
MY DEAR FATHER,--Here is a pretty business, discovered in an
unexpected manner to Mr. Hawthorne by a friendly and honorable Whig.
Perhaps you know that the President said before he took the chair that
he should make no removals, except for dishonesty and unfaithfulness.
So that all who voted for him after that declaration pledged
themselves to the same course. You know also doubtless that there has
never been such a succession of removals of honorable and honest men
since we were a nation as since the accession of President
Taylor,--not even under Jackson,--who, however, always removed people
because they were Whigs, without any covert implication of character.
This has been Democratic conduct--to remove for political reasons.
This conduct the Whigs always disapproved, and always said that no one
ought to be removed but from disability or dishonesty. So that now
when any one is removed, it is implied that the person is either a
shiftless or a dishonest man. It is very plain that neither of these
charges could be brought against Mr. Hawthorne. Therefore a most base
and incredible falsehood has been told--written down and signed and
sent to the Cabinet in secret. This infamous paper certifies among
other things (of which we have not heard)--that Mr. Hawthorne has been
in the habit of writing political articles in magazines and
newspapers!
This he has never done, as every one knows, in his life--not one word
of politics was ever written by him. His townsfolk, of course, know it
well. But what will surprise you more than this fact is to hear who
got up this paper, and perjured his soul upon it; who followed his
name with their signatures, and how it was indorsed. It was no less a
person than Mr. C. W. U.!!! who has thus proved himself a liar and a
most consummate hypocrite; for he has always professed himself the
warmest friend. He certifies the facts of the paper; and thirty other
gentlemen of Salem sign their names! Among whom are G. D. and young N.
S., and Mr. R. R.! Can you believe it? Not one of these gentlemen knew
this to be true, because it is not true; and yet, for party ends, they
have all perjured themselves to get away this office, and make the
President believe there were plausible pretexts; they had no idea it
could be found out. But the District Attorney saw the paper. He is a
Whig, but friendly to Mr. Hawthorne, on literary grounds; and the
District Attorney told a Salem gentleman, also a Whig and a personal
friend of Mr. Hawthorne's. Thus, the "murder" is out, through better
members of the same party.
Mr. Hawthorne took the removal with perfect composure and content,
having long expected it on account of his being a Democrat. But
yesterday, when he went to Boston and found out this, the lion was
roused in him. He says it is a cowardly attack upon his character,
done in such secrecy; and that he shall use his pen now in a way he
never has done, and expose the lie, addressing the public. Your child,
SOPHIA.
June 17.
MY BLESSED MOTHER,--Your most welcome and beautiful letter of the 11th
I very gladly received. You take our reverse of fortune in the way I
hoped you would. I feel "beyond the utmost scope and vision of
calamity" (as Pericles said to Aspasia), while my husband satisfies my
highest ideal, and while the graces of heaven fill the hearts of my
children. Everything else is very external. This is the immortal life
which makes flowers of asphodel bloom in my path, and no rude step can
crush them. I exult in my husband. He stands upon a table-land of
high behavior which is far above these mean and false proceedings,
with which a party of intriguers are now concerning themselves, and
covering themselves with the hopeless mud of Dante's Inferno. The
more harm they try to do, deeper down they plunge into the mire; and I
doubt if ever in this world some of them will be able to wash their
faces clean again. My husband supposed he was removed because he was a
Democrat (and you know very well how he has always been a Democrat,
not a Locofoco--if that means a lucifer match). Therefore he took it
as a matter of course in the way of politics; though it surprised me,
because General Taylor had pledged himself not to remove any person
for political opinions, but only for dishonesty and inefficiency. This
was why all Mr. Hawthorne's Whig as well as Democrat friends were sure
he would not be disturbed. He could not even have provoked hostility
by having taken any active part in politics,--never writing, never
speaking, never moving for the cause. But these intriguers secretly
carried out their plan. They wrote in letters false charges which they
sent to Washington, and thirty gentlemen signed their names to a paper
requesting the appointment of Mr. Putnam.
June 21, Thursday.
MY OWN DEAR MOTHER,--I am truly disappointed that you have not had
this letter before, but the tide of events has hurried me away from
it. Now I must write a few words. You never heard of such a time about
any one as there has been about Mr. Hawthorne. The whole country is
up in arms, and will not allow Mr. Hawthorne to be removed. And now I
have the good news to tell you that his removal is suspended at
Washington, and he is either to be reinstated if he will consent, or
to be presented with a better office. At Washington the Government was
deceived, and were not told that the person to be removed was Mr.
Hawthorne--so secret and cunning were these four gentlemen of Salem! I
cannot tell you all the abominable story now; and it is no matter,
since they are caught in their own toils, and defeated. Mr.
Hawthorne's name is ringing through the land. All the latent feeling
about him now comes out, and he finds himself very famous. Mr. Samuel
Hooper has been very active for him. Mr. Howes has done nothing else
for ten days but go back and forth to Boston, and come here to see my
husband, upon the subject. It has wholly roused him out of his deep
affliction for the death of Frederic [his brother], for whom he feels
as if he were acting now, so deep was Frederic's love and admiration
for Mr. Hawthorne. I wrote the above on my lap, following Julian
about, this hottest day. Now I can only say good-by, and implore you
to stay through July among the mountains. It is too hot in West Street
for you. We are all well, here, and there. When I see you, I will
tell you this long story about the removal, which has proved no
removal, as Mr. Hawthorne has not left the Custom House, and the
commission of the new officer has not arrived.
Your loving child,
SOPHIA.
P. S. Just to show to what a detail of meanness and cunning the
reverend person descends, I must tell you that he brought from
Washington a paper which he copied from the original memorial there;
which memorial was a testimony of the merchants of Salem in favor of
Colonel Miller's being Collector. This memorial Mr. Hawthorne, in
official capacity as Surveyor of the Port, and acquainted therefore
with the merchants, indorsed,--saying that, "to the best of his
recollection," these were all the principal merchants, and that they
were responsible persons. In the copy which Mr. U. made he left out
"to the best of his recollection," and made it read that these were
all the merchants of Salem. Stephen C. Phillips's name was not
signed. And so Mr. U. brings this to prove that Mr. Hawthorne is
impeachable for want of veracity! He tried hard to find that my
husband acted politically with regard to Colonel Miller's appointment;
and as this was impossible, he thought he would try to prove him a
false witness. Did you ever know of such pitiful evasions? But there
is no language to describe him. He is, my husband says, the most
satisfactory villain that ever was, for at every point he is
consummate. The Government had decided to reinstate Mr. Hawthorne
before Mr. U.'s arrival at Washington, and his representations changed
the purpose. I trust Mr. Everett will be enlightened about the latter,
so as to see what an unjust act he has committed by retracting his
first letter. "What!" said Charles Sumner of Mr. U., "that smooth,
smiling, oily man of God!"
Hawthorne has occasion to write to the
HON. HORACE MANN, M. C., WEST NEWTON, MASS.
SALEM, June 26, 1849.
MY DEAR SIR,--I have just received your note, in which you kindly
offer me your interest towards reinstating me in the office of
Surveyor.
I was perfectly in earnest in what I told Elizabeth, and should still
be very unwilling to have you enter into treaty with Mr. K., Mr. U.,
or other members of the local party, in my behalf. But, on returning
here, after an absence of two or three days, I found a state of things
rather different from what I expected, the general feeling being
strongly in my favor, and a disposition to make a compromise,
advantageous to me, on the part of some, at least, of those who had
acted against me. "The Essex Register," of yesterday, speaks of an
intention to offer me some better office than that of which I have
been deprived. Now, I do not think that I can, preserving my
self-respect, accept of any compromise. No other office can be offered
me that will not have been made vacant by the removal of a Democrat;
and, even if there were such an office, still, as charges have been
made against me, complete justice can be done only by placing me
exactly where I was before. This also would be the easiest thing for
the Administration to do, as they still hold my successor's commission
suspended. A compromise might indeed be made, not with me, but with
Captain Putnam, by giving him a place in this Custom House--which
would be of greater emolument than my office; and I have reason to
believe that the Collector would accede to such an arrangement.
Perhaps this idea might do something towards inducing Mr. Meredith to
make the reinstatement.
I did not intend to involve you in this business; nor, indeed, have I
desired any friend to take up my cause; but if, in view of the whole
matter, you should see fit to do as Mr. Mills advises, I shall feel
truly obliged. Of course, after consenting that you should use your
influence in my behalf, I should feel myself bound to accept the
reinstatement, if offered. I beg you to believe, also, that I would
not allow you to say a word for me, if I did not know that I have
within my power a complete refutation of any charges of official
misconduct that have been, or may be, brought against me.
Sophia and the children are well. The managers of the Lyceum desire to
know if you will deliver two lectures for them, before the session of
Congress.
Very truly yours,
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.
SALEM, July 2, 1849.
MY DEAR SIR,--I am inclined to think, from various suspicious
indications that I have noticed or heard of, between the Whigs and one
or two of my subordinate officers, that they are concocting, or have
already concocted, a new set of charges against me. Would it not be a
judicious measure for you to write to the Department, requesting a
copy of these charges, that I may have an opportunity of answering
them? There can be nothing (setting aside the most direct false
testimony, if even that) which I shall not have it in my power either
to explain, defend, or disprove. I had some idea of calling for these
charges through the newspapers, but it would bring on a controversy
which might be interminable, and would only, however clearly I should
prove my innocence, make my reinstatement the more difficult; so that
I judge it best to meet the charges in this way--always provided that
there are any.
It grieves me to give you so much trouble; but you must recollect that
it was your own voluntary kindness, and not my importunity, that
involves you in it. Very truly yours,
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.
The following letter is fragmentary, because of the demands of some
autograph-hunter.
. . . It occurred to me, after sending off those documents, yesterday,
that I ought to have given you some particulars as to the political
character and standing of the gentlemen who signed them. B. Barstow,
Esq., is Vice-President of the Hickory Club, and a member of the
Democratic Town Committee. William B. Pike is Chairman of the
Democratic County Committee. T. Burchmore, Jr., Esq., is Chairman of
the Democratic Congressional District Committee. Dr. B. E. Browne
signs in his own official character as a member of the Democratic
State Committee. They have all been active in our local politics, and
thoroughly acquainted with the political . . . [mutilated for
autograph signature].
As respects the letter from T. Burchmore, Jr., to myself, I wish to
say a few words. Mr. Burchmore has, for twenty-five years past,
occupied a situation in the Custom House; and for a long time past,
though nominally only head clerk, has been the actual head of the
establishment, owing to his great business talent and thorough
acquaintance with all matters connected with the revenue. He is an
upright and honorable . . . [mutilated] . . . in my behalf; and I would
wish, therefore, in communicating with the Department, that you would
use him as tenderly as possible. Of course, his letter may be sent
on, but it would be best not to advert to his being connected with the
Custom House; and as he holds his office from the Collector, it is
very probable that the Department may not know him in an official
character.
My successor's commission has not yet arrived.
The enemy is very quiet, and I know little or nothing about their
motions.
Mrs. Mann's letter to Sophia arrived this morning.
P. S. The gentlemen above mentioned have a high social standing, as
well as a political one. Mr. Barstow, for instance, you may recollect
as Vice-President of the Salem Lyceum, where he was introduced to you.
SALEM, August 8, 1849.
MY DEAR SIR,--My case is so simple, and the necessary evidence comes
from so few sources, and is so direct in its application, that I think
I cannot mistake my way through it; nor do I see how it can be
prejudiced by my remaining quiet, for the present. I will sketch it to
you as briefly as possible.
Mr. U. accuses me of suspending one or more inspectors for refusing to
pay party subscriptions, and avers that I sent them a letter of
suspension by a messenger, whom he names, and that--I suppose after
the payment of the subscription--I withdrew the suspension.
I shall prove that a question was referred to me--as chief executive
officer of the Custom House--from the Collector's office, as to what
action should be taken on a letter from the Treasury Department,
requiring the dismissal of our temporary inspectors. We had two
officers in that position. They were Democrats, men with large
families and no resources, and irreproachable as officers; and for
these reasons I was unwilling that they should lose their situations.
In order, therefore, to comply with the spirit of the Treasury order,
without ruining these two men, I projected a plan of suspending them
from office during the inactive season of the year, but without
removing them, and in such a manner that they might return to duty
when the state of business should justify it. I wrote an order (which
I still have in my possession) covering these objects, which, however,
was not intended to be acted on immediately, but for previous
consultation with the Deputy Collector and the head clerk. On
consulting the latter gentleman, he was of opinion, for various
reasons which he cited, that the two inspectors might be allowed to
remain undisturbed until further orders from the Treasury; to which,
as the responsibility was entirely with the Collector's Department, I
made no objection. And here, so far as I had any knowledge or concern,
the matter ended.
But it is said that I notified the inspectors of their suspension by a
certain person, who is named. I have required an explanation of this
person, and he at once avowed that, being aware of this contemplated
movement, and being in friendly relations with these two men, he
thought it his duty to inform them of it; but he most distinctly
states that he did it without my authority or knowledge, and that he
will testify to this effect whenever I call upon him so to do. I did
not inquire what communication he had with the two inspectors, or with
either of them; for I look upon his evidence as clearing me, whatever
may have passed between him and them. But my idea is (I may be
mistaken, but it is founded on some observation of the manoeuvres of
small politicians, and knowing the rigid discipline of custom houses
as to party subscriptions) that there really was an operation, to
squeeze an assessment out of the recusant inspectors, under the terror
of an impending removal or suspension; that one of the inspectors
turned traitor, and was impelled, by the threats and promises of Mr.
U. and his coadjutors, to bring his evidence to a pretty direct point
on me; and that Mr. U., in his memorial to the Treasury Department,
defined and completed the lie, in such shape as I have given it above.
But I do not see how it can stand for a moment against my defense.
The head clerk (the same Mr. Burchmore whose letter I transmitted to
you) was turned out a week ago, and will gladly give his evidence at
any moment, proving the grounds on which I acted. The other person who
is said to have acted as messenger is still in office, a weigher and
gauger, at a salary of $1500 per annum. He is a poor man, having been
in office but two years, and expended all his income in paying debts
for which he was an indorser, and he now wishes to get a few hundred
dollars to carry him to California, or give him some other start in
life. Still, he will come forward if I call upon him, but, of course,
would rather wait for his removal, which will doubtless take place
before the session of Congress. Meantime, I have no object to obtain,
worth purchasing at the sacrifice which he must make. My surveyorship
is lost, and I have no expectation, nor any desire, of regaining it.
My purpose is simply to make such a defense to the Senate as will
insure the rejection of my successor, and thus satisfy the public that
I was removed on false or insufficient grounds. Then, if Mr. U. should
give me occasion,--or perhaps if he should not,--I shall do my best to
kill and scalp him in the public prints; and I think I shall succeed.
I mean soon to comply with your kind invitation to come and see you,
not on the above business, but because I think of writing a
schoolbook,--or, at any rate, a book for the young,--and should highly
prize your advice as to what is wanted, and how it should be achieved.
I mean, as soon as possible,--that is to say, as soon as I can find a
cheap, pleasant, and healthy residence,--to remove into the country,
and bid farewell forever to this abominable city; for, now that my
mother is gone, I have no longer anything to keep me here.
Sophia and the children are pretty well. With my best regards to Mrs.
Mann, I am, Very truly yours,
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.
P. S. Do pardon me for troubling you with this long letter: but I am
glad to put you in possession of the facts, in case of accidents.
I will insert here some letters that relate to this time, though
written in 1884:--
PROVIDENCE, RHODE ISLAND, September 15.
DEAR MRS. LATHROP, . . . That matter of the memorial fountain, or
monument [in honor of "The Town Pump "], which the death of Mrs.
Brooks prevented our going on with, I trust may yet in the fullness of
time be accomplished. I have a plan which may fructify, although some
years may intervene before any decided steps can be taken. Perhaps it
will be just as well to wait, after all, until some of those wretches
who delight in vilifying your father perish from the face of the
earth. Let us have patience. They are fast becoming superannuated, and
the "venom of their spleen" will perish with them. They comprehend him
not, and are willfully blind and deaf. Dr. Wheatland estimates that
less than a score of these strange malignants are now to be met with
on the streets of Salem. But he has not like me
"Unaware,
Ranging the woods to start a hare,
Come to the mouth of the dark lair,
Where growling low, a fierce old bear,
Lies amid bones and blood."
By the bye, I found once that Miss Savage had wholly forgotten
Hawthorne's reference to the Town Pump which closes his Custom House
chapter, and so I put "The Scarlet Letter" into my valise (she having
lost her copy), and two or three weeks ago I called at her house and
read her the passage. Afterwards, I dropped in to see Mullet, and I
left the book with him, as he had not read it for many years. I think
you will like to see a note he has written me, so I inclose it.
Faithfully yours,
GEORGE H. HOLDEN.
February 5.
MY DEAR MRS. LATHROP,--Rummaging among my papers, last evening, I ran
across another letter from our "bright-eyed" and noble-hearted friend
Mullet, which I think you will be glad to read, because Mullet wrote
it. I therefore inclose the letter. Mullet is very hard of hearing,
and on that account goes out but little. During the twelve years that
I lived in Salem I am sure I never once met him on the street. In
fact, I think I never heard of him, even, till after I moved to
Providence. I heard of him one day at the "Gazette" office, and
forthwith dug him out. He is a great reader. The Harpers have sent me
all of Rolfe's Shakespeare, and I found that I have duplicate copies
of three or four of the Plays. These duplicates I shall ask Mullet to
oblige me by accepting. Mullet is not the chap who bored your father
so fearfully by endless talk about Shakespeare and Napoleon, but he is
a prodigious admirer of the great dramatist. He has the Plays in one
huge, unwieldy volume, and for that reason reads them less than he
would if they were in a more handy form. Mullet is a great reader of
the old English poets (I don't mean so far back as Chaucer and
Spenser), and I suppose he can repeat from memory thousands of lines.
I have found no chance to call upon him since I fruitlessly rang his
doorbell, as stated in his letter.
Please remind me to tell you about an African fetich which Mullet gave
me one day, and a reminiscence of your father linked therewith. Ever
faithfully,
GEORGE H. HOLDEN.
SALEM, September 10, 1884.
DEAR MR. HOLDEN,--It was my good fortune during the year 1850 to be
presented with a copy of "The Scarlet Letter," together with "the
compliments of the author." Of course, the gift was highly prized; but
its fate was that of many other volumes, borrowed and never returned.
A volume of the same, from the late edition issued last year, proved a
most welcome visitor to my enforced seclusion. After the lapse of many
years I once more had the real pleasure of reading over that popular
work. The enjoyment derived from a fresh perusal of the introductory
chapter on the Custom House was great indeed. It seemed like living
over that period of my existence again. The scenes described in such a
masterly manner were vividly before me; and while reading I frequently
stopped to laugh at the scrupulously nice delineation. The zest with
which I read was heightened by the reproduction of the characters in
that superlative picture of word-painting, for they together with the
artist were vividly--I had almost said palpably--before me, as though
it were a thing of yesterday. How real the "patriarchal body of
veterans" appeared, "tipped back in chairs," and "at times asleep; but
occasionally might be heard talking together in voices between speech
and a snore. There was no more vivacity than in the drowsy drone of
so many bumblebees." However much others may be entertained by reading
that chapter of exquisite humor, those who were the daily witnesses of
the scenes for several years can best appreciate its nicety and
drollery. The "veteran shipmaster," concerning whom Hawthorne says,
"scarcely a day passed that he did not stir me to laughter and
admiration by his marvelous gift as a story-teller," was Captain
Stephen Burchmore, the public storekeeper. The stories of themselves
were generally extravagant and grotesque. It was "the marvelous gift"
of narration that carried people off their legs. I have known the
company present to roar with laughter, and not one more convulsed than
Mr. Hawthorne. Truly yours,
GEORGE W. MULLET.
SALEM, October 1, 1883.
DEAR MR. HOLDEN,--You request me to "write the particulars about the
good turn I had done Hawthorne in sacrificing my own interests in his
behalf."
Mr. Hawthorne had not been thought of in connection with any office in
the Custom House until after arrangements were made to have them
filled with others. Richard Lindsay was supported for the surveyorship
and myself for the naval office. All necessary documents had been
forwarded to Washington, duly authenticated, and tidings of the
appointments daily looked for.
At this late stage Hawthorne was first suggested for Surveyor. The
matter was urgently pushed. To accomplish it, Lindsay must be
prevailed upon to withdraw. All were agreed that I was the one to
engineer the matter, Lindsay and myself being fast friends, and our
relations uninterruptedly pleasant. That he would willingly consent
was not expected, and indeed it was problematical if he would at all.
I felt exceedingly delicate about suggesting the business, as I had in
person been through the country obtaining signatures from resident
committees favoring his appointment. I therefore voluntarily offered
to withdraw my application for the naval office in favor of Hawthorne,
but that found no favor.
Finally, to secure the desideratum, I proposed that Lindsay and self
both withdraw, and have the offices filled with others. I desired my
friend should understand that I asked for no sacrifice I was not
willing to share. My withdrawal was stoutly opposed as entirely
unnecessary, but it was my ultimatum; on no other condition would I
move in the matter. The business was then broken by me to Lindsay, and
it required all the persuasion I could exercise to reconcile him to
the arrangement. The expedient of my own withdrawal brought it about;
otherwise it would not have been accomplished.
It now only remained for us to write to Washington, withdrawing our
candidatures, and transferring all our support to the applications of
Hawthorne for Surveyor and Howard for Naval Officer. Soon their
commissions came, and Lindsay and myself were subsequently appointed
as inspectors under Hawthorne.
At that time I regarded Hawthorne's appointment as decidedly popular
with the party, with men of letters, and with the increasing multitude
who admired him as one of the brightest stars in the literary
firmament.
Never have I experienced the least regret for waiving my own advantage
to bring the pleasing result about. For nearly four years it brought
me almost daily into proximity with him, either officially or
casually. The recollection well repays the little sacrifice made. His
port, his placidity, his hours of abstraction, his mild, pleasant
voice,--no sweeter ever uttered by mortal lips,--are all readily
recalled. Truly yours,
G. W. MULLET.