It was after this illness that Julia Ward
first went to Newport
A change of air was prescribed for the children, and they were packed off to the farmhouse of Jacob Bailey
, two or three miles from the town of Newport
Here they spent a happy summer, to be followed by many others.
They slept on mattresses stuffed with ground corncobs; the table was primitive; but there was plenty of cream and curds, eggs and butter, and there was the wonderful air. The children grew fat and hearty, and scampered all over the island with great delight.
(But when they went down to the beach, Julia
must wear a thick green worsted veil to preserve her ivoryand-rose complexion.
“Little Julia has another freckle to-day!”
a visitor was told.
“It was not her fault, the nurse forgot her veil!” )
in 1832 as “a forsaken, mildewed place, a sort of intensified Salem
, with houses of rich design, no longer richly inhabited.”
She was to watch through many years the growth of what was always one of the cities of her heart.
But we must return to Bond Street, and take one more look at No. 16.
The Wards were soon to leave it for a statelier dwelling, but many associations would always cling about the old house.
Here it was that the good old grandfather, Lieutenant-Colonel Samuel Ward
, used to come from No. 7 to talk business with his son or to play with the children.
Our mother had a vivid recollection of once, when still a little child, sitting down at the piano, placing an open music-book on