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LITTLE WOMEN LETTERS
FROM THE
HOUSE OF ALCOTT
[Illustration: _Frontispiece._
ORCHARD HOUSE, THE ALCOTT HOMESTEAD.]
LITTLE WOMEN
LETTERS
FROM THE
HOUSE OF ALCOTT
SELECTED BY
JESSIE BONSTELLE
AND
MARIAN DEFOREST
[Illustration]
BOSTON
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
1914
_Copyright, 1914_,
BY JOHN S. P. ALCOTT.
_All rights reserved_
Published, September, 1914
Set up and electrotyped by J. S. Cushing Co., Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.
Presswork by S. J. Parkhill & Co., Boston, Mass., U.S.A.
FOREWORD
NEXT to the joy of giving to the Alcott-loving public "Little Women" as
a play, is the privilege and pleasure of offering this book of letters,
revealing the childhood and home life of the beloved Little Women.
May they bring help and happiness to many mothers and inspiration and
love to many children.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE "REALLY, TRULY" TRUE 1
II. THE ALCOTT BOY; THE ALCOTT MAN 10
III. THE ALCOTT CHILDREN 28
IV. THE ALCOTT BABY BOOK 39
V. LETTERS AND CONVERSATIONS WITH CHILDREN 59
VI. THE MOTHER'S INFLUENCE 98
VII. CHILDREN'S DIARIES 122
VIII. GIRLHOOD AND WOMANHOOD 140
IX. FRIENDSHIPS AND BELIEFS 162
CHRONOLOGY 195
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Orchard House, the Alcott Homestead _Frontispiece_
PAGE
A. Bronson Alcott at the age of 53, from
the portrait by Mrs. Hildreth 54
Facsimile of Mr. Alcott's Letter to
Louisa, Nov. 29, 1839 82
Facsimile of Mr. Alcott's Letter to Louisa, June 21, 1840 86
Facsimile of Mr. Alcott's Letter to Elizabeth, 1840 92
Abigail May, Mrs. A. Bronson Alcott, from a
Daguerreotype 106
Anna Bronson Alcott, from a Daguerreotype 122
Abba May Alcott, from a Photograph 142
Louisa May Alcott, from a Daguerreotype 160
LITTLE WOMEN
LETTERS FROM THE HOUSE
OF ALCOTT
CHAPTER I
THE "REALLY, TRULY" TRUE
WHEN "Little Women," the play, reopened to many readers the pages of
"Little Women," the book, that delightful chronicle of family life,
dramatist and producer learned from many unconscious sources the depth
of Louisa M. Alcott's human appeal. Standing one night at the back of
the theater as the audience was dispersing, they listened to its
comments on the play.
"A wonderful picture of home life, only we don't have such homes," said
a big, prosperous-looking man to his wife, with a touch of regret in his
voice.
"Yes," agreed his young daughter, a tall, slender, graceful girl, as she
snuggled down cosily into her fur coat and tucked a bunch of violets
away from the touch of the frosty night, "it is beautiful; but, daddy,
it isn't real. There never was such a family."
But it is real; there was such a family, and in letters, journals, and
illustration this little book gives the history of the four Little
Women, the Alcott girls, whom Louisa immortalized in her greatest story:
Anna, who is Meg in "Little Women"; Louisa, the irrepressible and
ambitious Jo; Elizabeth, the little Beth of the book; and Abba May, the
graceful and statuesque Amy.
Rare influences were at work in this ideal American home, where the
intellectual and brilliant father was gifted in all ways except those
that led to material success, and the wise and gentle mother combined
with her loyalty and devotion to her husband a stanch, practical common
sense, which more than once served to guide the frail Alcott bark
through troubled seas.
Following her remarkable success as a writer of short stories, Louisa M.
Alcott was asked for a book. She said at first it was impossible, but
repeated requests from her publishers brought from her the announcement
that the only long story she could write would be about her own family.
"Little Women" resulted, and, in erecting this House of Delight for
young and old, Louisa Alcott builded better than she knew. Her Jo has
been the inspiration of countless girls, and the many-sidedness of her
character is indicated by the widely diverging lines of endeavor which
Jo's example has suggested to the girl readers of the story.
In the case of the two editors, both from early childhood found their
inspiration in Jo. One, patterning after her idol, sought success in a
stage career, beginning to "act" before a mirror, with a kitchen apron
for a train and a buttonhook for a dagger. The other, always with a
pencil in hand, first copied Jo by writing "lurid tales" for the weekly
sensation papers, and later emerged into Newspaper Row.
It was more than a year after the success of "Little Women" as a play
had become a part of theatrical history that they visited the scenes
hallowed by the memories of the Little Women. They wished to see Concord
together, so they made a Sentimental Journey to the House of Alcott.
The sun was shining, and the air was crisp--just such a day as Miss
Alcott described in the Plumfield harvest home, the last chapter in
"Little Women." They spent hours in Orchard House, touching reverently
the small personal effects of Louisa M. Alcott, seeing the shelf
between the windows in that little upper room, where she wrote and
dreamed. They even climbed to the garret and wondered which window was
her favorite scribbling seat, with a tin kitchen for her manuscripts, a
pile of apples for her refreshment, and Scrabble, the bewhiskered rat,
for her playfellow.
Through the woods back of Orchard House they followed the winding
pathway to the Hall of Philosophy, half hidden among the trees, where
Bronson Alcott had his Conversations, where Emerson and Thoreau were
often heard, and the most intellectual debates of the century took
place.
At sunset they visited Sleepy Hollow, the resting place of the Alcotts,
with Emerson, Thoreau, and Hawthorne close by--a goodly company,
neighbors still as they were for so many years when they made Concord
America's literary shrine.
Evening came, and the two pilgrims read together the Alcott journals and
letters. The ink was faded, the quaint, old-fashioned writing was hard
to decipher, but, beginning with a letter to Louisa written by Bronson
Alcott when his daughter was seven years old, they read on until the
dawn.
Only one result could be expected from such an experience. They asked
permission to publish the letters and such portions of the journals as
would most completely reveal the rare spiritual companionship existing
between the Alcott parents and children. And, asking, they were refused,
because of a feeling that the letters and journals were intimate family
records, to be read, not by the many, but by the few. This same
sentiment withheld the dramatization of "Little Women" for many years.
"You forget," they argued, holding fast to the dimly written pages,
"that Bronson Alcott and Louisa Alcott are a part of America's literary
heritage. They belong to the nation, to the world, not alone to you."
This course of reasoning finally prevailed, but not without many months
of waiting. And thus, with the consent of the Alcott heirs, the book of
"Little Women Letters from the House of Alcott" came to be.