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Mrs. John A. Logan, Reminiscences of a Soldier's Wife: An Autobiography, Chapter 16: (search)
country homes of which so much has been written. My son's mission was to buy hackney horses. Consequently, we visited the most notable estates upon which they were raised, or places where they were on exhibition. After spending much time in going from one place to another, we went to Scotland and made a tour of the lakes. Much has been written of the delights of a trip through the Trossachs, made famous by the pen of Sir Walter Scott. We concluded our tour at Edinburgh, and visited Melrose Abbey, near Abbotsford. There is a little inn at the entrance of the abbey, where we went to arrange for our dinner at five o'clock. My son called out: Look on the wall over the door opening to the dining-room. I looked, and imagine my surprise to see a framed copy of Brady's celebrated photograph of Sherman and his Generals, General Logan being in the centre of the group. We were curious to know how the photograph had found its way to the place where it hung, and the proprietor told us hi
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, John Greenleaf Whittier, Chapter 13: closing years (search)
d never faded away. Fields's Whittier, p. 90. It was to ill health, I think, that his renunciation of all far-off travel was due. He once told me, however, that perhaps the reason why he had never travelled, was that he had always been a great reader of books of travel, and after reading each one, had in his mind so vivid a picture of it that he wished to go somewhere else. What just ground have we to complain of this, when we know by Scott's own confession that his description of Melrose Abbey by moonlight, --one of the most widely quoted descriptions ever written,--was not written in presence of that beautiful spectacle, but quite the contrary? He wrote to Bernard Barton:-- I was surprised into confessing what I might have as well kept to myself, that I had been guilty of sending persons a bat-hunting to see the ruins of Melrose by moonlight, which I never saw myself. The fact is rather curious, for as I have often slept nights at Melrose (when I did not reside so near
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, John Greenleaf Whittier, Index. (search)
50, 83, 85, 94, 110. Massachusetts Colony, 84. Massachusetts Historical Society, 83, 86, 176. Mather, Cotton, his Magnalia, mentioned, 35. May, Rev. Samuel J., 52, 59-62; reads Declaration, 53; mobbed, 56,57. Mead, Edwin D., 163. Melrose Abbey, 174. memories, 147-149. Merrill, John, 42. Merrimac River, 4; valley of, 53, 155. Milton, John, 139, 152; G. W. Childs gives window as memorial of, 181; Whittier writes inscription for memorial window, 182; Dr. Farrar's letter aboutator. See Rosa. Sargent, Mrs. John T., her Sketches and Reminiscences of the Radical Club, quoted, 100, 101. Sargent, Rev. John T., 100. Scotland, 6. Scott, Sir, Walter, 107, 109; his Fair Maid of Perth, mentioned, 7; quoted about Melrose Abbey, 174. Sedgwick, Catherine M., 16. Sewall, Samuel E., 50, 51, 68. Sewall family, 52. Shakespeare, William, 19, 150, 152, 154. Shaw, Col. Robert Gould, 112. Shipley, Thomas, 52. Sigourney, Mrs. L. H., 35; Whittier's letter to, 37,
Francis Jackson Garrison, William Lloyd Garrison, 1805-1879; the story of his life told by his children: volume 4, Chapter 8: to England and the Continent.—1867. (search)
day cherished equally by Britain and America, so in the future, we believe, shall your name, and the names of your noble coadjutors, be held in honor by both branches of the Anglo-Saxon race. With these demonstrations Mr. Garrison's public labors ended for a season, greatly to his relief, for he was much worn by the excitement and fatigue of so much talking, both in public and in private. On his way North he had had little recreation—a glimpse of York Minster and a visit July 6. to Melrose Abbey and Abbotsford being his chief July 10. diversions–and he had hoped now to make a trip through the Highlands with his companions; but the weather was rainy and unpropitious, and that had to be abandoned. A visit to the English Lake District was also relinquished for the same reason, and because it would have been an aggravation to go there and not see Harriet Martineau, whose ill-health rendered it doubtful whether she could receive them. Naturally, she was one of the first persons to
Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and letters of Charles Sumner: volume 1, Chapter 15: the Circuits.—Visits in England and Scotland.—August to October, 1838.—age, 27. (search)
losopher, biographer of Sir Isaac Newton, and Principal of St. Leonard's College at St. Andrew's. and am writing in my bed-room, which looks upon the Tweed and Melrose Abbey and the Eildon Hills. Abbotsford is a short distance above, on the opposite side; while the cottages of Lockhart, and that fast friend of Scott, Sir Adam Ferg Gentilhomme, if you have not read it before now; it is easy French, and is full of pleasant turns. This sheet is enriched by a picture of Abbotsford and of Melrose Abbey. I hope that you know all about these already. The life of Scott must have made you acquainted with Abbotsford; and Melrose Abbey is the scene of his earliesMelrose Abbey is the scene of his earliest—I am inclined to think his best—poem. When you have a moment's leisure, catch up the Lay of the Last Minstrel; read its sounding lines, which enter the ear like the reverberating hoofs of the fast-going horse. There is much that is stirring in Scott. His poetry is martial music: and I always feel when reading it (though for
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 1. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Narrative and legendary poems (search)
ness of ancient Lynn, The Pythoness of ancient Lynn was the redoubtable Moll Pitcher, who lived under the shadow of High Rock in that town, and was sought far and wide for her supposed powers of divination. She died about 1810. Mr. Upham, in his Salem Witchcraft, has given an account of her. Sleeps calmly where the living laid her; And the wide realm of sorcery, Left by its latest mistress free, Hath found no gray and skilled invader. So perished Albion's ‘glammarye,’ With him in Melrose Abbey sleeping, His charmed torch beside his knee, That even the dead himself might see The magic scroll within his keeping. And now our modern Yankee sees Nor omens, spells, nor mysteries; And naught above, below, around, Of life or death, of sight or sound, Whate'er its nature, form, or look, Excites his terror or surprise,— All seeming to his knowing eyes Familiar as his ‘catechise,’ Or ‘Webster's Spelling-Book.’ 1833. The demon of the study. the Brownie sits in the Scotchma
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 5. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Tales and Sketches (search)
s to us through a broken hat or a rent in the elbow, are manifestly baffled by the complete mail of a clean and decent dress. I recollect on one occasion hearing my mother tell our family physician that a woman in the neighborhood, not remarkable for her tidiness, had become a church-member. Humph! said the doctor, in his quick, sarcastic way, What of that? Don't you know that no unclean thing can enter the kingdom of heaven? If you would see Lowell aright, as Walter Scott says of Melrose Abbey, one must be here of a pleasant First day at the close of what is called the afternoon service. The streets are then blossoming like a peripatetic flower-garden; as if the tulips and lilies and roses of my friend W.'s nursery, in the vale of Nonantum, should take it into their heads to promenade for exercise. Thousands swarm forth who during week-days are confined to the mills. Gay colors alternate with snowy whiteness; extremest fashion elbows the plain demureness of old-fashioned Me
The Daily Dispatch: January 14, 1862., [Electronic resource], Contributions for the Alexandria Volunteers. (search)
ling with which he spoke of parties who, knowing his distaste for notoriety, had taken to themselves the credit of some of his best works. He complained bitterly of one Albert Smith, who had robbed him of the just credit due him for his celebrated "Address to a Mummy," and said that the baseness of Junius in affixing his name to certain letters which he was paid to make public was only exceeded by the treachery of a Scotch barrister, with a halting gait, whom he met with in the ruins of Melrose Abbey, and who so won upon him by his pleasing address that he confided to him for publication his original manuscripts of the Waverly Novels. Much as I was pleased with the modesty and apparent worth of my entertainer, and with all my self-gratulation on the soundness of my early views as to his personal identity, I did not forget that it was my bounden duty to satisfy myself as to the correctness of his political views before suffering him to depart. In answer to my interrogatories