"I have just been reading again your speech. It is the greatest
voice on the greatest subject that has been uttered since we became
a nation. No matter for insults--we feel them with you; no matter
for wounds--we also bleed in them."
But in the days of which we are writing, all these stormy troublous
times were yet far in the future, and the world looked bright and
pleasant to these afterward saddened friends. The acquaintance with Miss
Appleton had been renewed after her return to Boston, and the poet was
by this time deeply devoted to her, and hopeful of one day winning her
for his own. He became something of a dandy in those days, and showed a
fondness for color in coats, waistcoats, and neckties; and the ladies
looked at him a little doubtfully, thinking perhaps, as they had done of
Paul Fleming, that "his gloves were a shade too light for a strictly
virtuous man." Six years passed after the first meeting with Miss
Appleton in Europe before Mr. Longfellow finally claimed her for his
bride. He had been a patient as well as an ardent lover, and was
rewarded in 1843 by the hand of her he sought. She was now a woman of
twenty-five, of stately presence, cultivated mind, and calm but gracious
manners. Her face was not "faultily faultless" nor "icily regular," but
both beautiful and expressive. Mr. Longfellow was now thirty-six years
old, and a man of rapidly widening fame. Mr. Appleton purchased for the
newly married couple the old Craigie House in Cambridge, which had been
Mr. Longfellow's home ever since his arrival there. Most visitors to
Cambridge are familiar with this old Colonial mansion which had once
been the headquarters of General Washington. It stands far back in the
ample grounds which surround it, and is painted in yellow and white. It
is on Brattle Street as one goes from Harvard College to Mount Auburn.
The front is about eighty feet in length, including the verandas, and a
wooden railing extends around the roof. There is an Italian balustrade
along the first terrace, and a hedge of lilacs leads up to the door. Old
historic elms throw their broad arms all about the place. The interior
of the house is very handsome, and is considered a fine specimen of the
old Colonial style. Altogether it made a most delightful home for the
poet and his bride, and there they spent the remainder of their lives.
About the time of his marriage Mr. Longfellow's eyes failed him on
account of overstraining them, and one of Mrs. Longfellow's first wifely
duties was to furnish eyes for her husband. She read to him and wrote
for him a great deal for several years, and the close companionship
which this required was very pleasant to both. He was a very busy man in
those days; for, contrary to the popular impression, Mr. Longfellow did
a great deal of hard work at the college for a good many years. His was
no honorary position, but a genuine working professorship, involving the
preparation of a great number of lectures during each year and close
class-work besides. He enjoyed this work very much for the first few
years, but long before he resigned his position it became exceedingly
burdensome to him. The college should have relieved him of the drudgery
of his professorship, and allowed him time for the preparation of
special lectures upon really scholarly themes; but it had not the wisdom
to do so, and exacted the labors of a dray-horse from this chained
Pegasus. In the journal are many entries like the following:--
"I seriously think of resigning my professorship. My time is so
fully taken up by its lectures and other duties that I have none
left for writing. Then my eyes are suffering, and the years are
precious; and if I wish to do anything in literature it must be
done now. Few men have written good poetry after fifty."