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Horace Gray (search for this): chapter 3
; suddenly the path ends, between great trees, in the loveliest of lakes with no sign of human life. In despair you discharge your rifle, and suddenly a boat comes out from a wooded point, and receives you as guests in fairyland. Stillman is the presiding spirit; he stays there all summer and paints while the other artists and savants who make up the Adirondack Club (or Amperzanders as the boatmen call them) come and go. This summer there have been James Lowell, Estes Howe, Judge Hoar, Horace Gray; and Emerson and Longfellow and others are now coming. John Holmes came, carried in an armchair through the forest by four men; they said it was hard, but he was so funny. They are just buying the pond and its whole surroundings, to keep them sacred from lumbering and injury, and have taken this out-of-the-way place to avoid company and disturbance; besides, it is by far the most beautiful lake we saw, the mountains coming closer and steeper round it than in any other place we saw, and
E. P. Whipple (search for this): chapter 3
y tacked on to mainland and thus brought near a railroad and some woods, with plenty of granite quarries thrown in. ... The rocks are precisely like Appledore and so would be the surf if there were any, but there never is any on our coast, except in storms. I always distrust that part of Thalatta, when I am on the spot. The secret of the ocean is in the horizon line; the actual height of the waves is always absurdly small. Here we have, for lions, artists instead of authors, though Whipple is here whom you saw at dinner and who is thought very brilliant, though he seems to me only dry and keen and critical. At a house below are some H-and C — of Cambridge showy, dressy women who are or have been belles; one of them is just engaged to Darley, the artist, who is here also. Yesterday I went on a long walk in the woods with Darley and Kensett — Kensett it was who illustrated Curtis's Lotus-eating and drew one curl of a wave at the bottom of a page which has haunted me ever sinc
Ingersoll Bowditch (search for this): chapter 3
from Chicago, and our Finance Committee voted them fifteen hundred dollars and voted to add three thousand dollars more, unless I could raise this second party by Wednesday, which I did. Saturday, the day after, I was sent to Boston, with the same letters, to urge the Boston Committee to send money to Chicago. With great difficulty I got five minutes each from Pat Jackson and several other merchants, and at two they came together for ten minutes and voted to send two thousand dollars, Ingersoll Bowditch being happily absent, who had just told me he should come and oppose it entirely. I saw the telegraphic despatch written and came back. That very night we got a telegraphic despatch from Chicago, imploring us to send that precise sum, for the relief of a large party of emigrants, detained at Iowa City for want of means. The two despatches crossed on the way. This two thousand dollars, with our remittance, and our two parties of emigrants (which would not have gone till by this t
Geary (search for this): chapter 3
ough all pronounce it the darkest time Kansas has ever seen. . . Geary is conquering them at last and the leaders are flying from arrest. ed States Government steps in, and arrests their best and bravest. Geary's intention is to give them peace and bread, at the price of obedihe inhabitants and the United States troops, first or last. Governor Geary aimed to take a neutral stand between conflicting elements, hishe Civil War led Mr. Higginson, at least, to change his estimate of Geary's character. This letter was written to one of the Dabney familyto call out the guard (of United States troops, placed there by Governor Geary, for protection) somebody would always exclaim, That sounds gooft to sacrifice; everybody has grown poor. I hope nothing from Governor Geary; he means well and has energy of will, but no energy of characttate than before I came here. Before this last interference of Governor Geary, the Kansas men under General Lane (who is a very remarkable ma
Elizabeth Whittier (search for this): chapter 3
all over the lonely hill-top, and five children with cows and tin kettles and the baby in a wagon — in the waning June sunset; five little sisters there were, with all bleached but their blue eyes. Worcester, June, 1862 Mrs. Howell, of Philadelphia, a most attractive woman whom I met last year, is there [Princeton] already. She wrote Milton's verses on his blindness which were included in a London edition of his works, and there is a mild, chronic, Quakerly flirtation between her and Whittier, who wrote in the April Atlantic a charming poem about a ride with her at Princeton last year. She is a fine-looking woman of forty-five, but the hotel scandal of last year was that she wears what are called plumpers in her cheeks to preserve the roundness of early years, and though I hold this a libel, still the overwhelming majority of last year's Princetonians believe it. Miss Betsey Sturgis, that arbiter of fashion, says plumpers are very common in Philadelphia and she does n't doubt M
Larkin Mead (search for this): chapter 3
and kitchen of logs and bark are perfectly picturesque and show exquisite taste of arrangement. Stillman was hospitable, though not quite satisfactory, and dined us on venison boiled and broiled, cranberries and guava jelly, and by and by we came away and let the wilderness close around the lonely artist. Coming back we stopped to see the finest of all the fine arts, most graceful of all things ever done by man -fly-fishing as practised by a great master, Henry K. Brown, the sculptor, Larkin Mead's teacher, of whom he will like to hear. . . . The next morning we left Martin's, got to Burlington that night, and home the next (Saturday); and now the lakes and mountains are fading into dreams. In 1855 the Higginsons sailed for Fayal for the benefit of Mrs. Higginson's health. Worcester, July . . .For companions on the voyage we may have Mr. and Mrs. Charles Dabney ... very pleasant people. There seem plenty of entertainments there — oranges, music, whaleships, Catholic pr
Virginians (search for this): chapter 3
eneral Lane (who is a very remarkable man) had driven out the Missourians in all directions; but it is their policy not to resist the United States Government, and the Missourians are always ready to take the slightest advantage which that affords them. After the Presidential election the invaders will make a desperate effort; their success is certain if Buchanan is elected, and probably if Fremont is. . . . On board I have thus far met no annoyance, though there is a company of young Virginians and Carolinians returning to their homes; they are of the race of poor white folks, commonly. My copy of Dred occasions some remarks. I trust your father will feel a becoming reverence when I say that I am a General in the Kansas Army, having been immediately presented with a commission to that effect by the redoubtable Jim Lane himself, the Marion of the age. I keep it as a valuable autograph, or to be used on my next visit to Kansas. The Worcester summers were varied by occasional
Marcus (search for this): chapter 3
ite the Bog River Falls, which flow into the head of the lake, lovely as Trenton. The next day we stayed only for another unsuccessful deer hunt and then turned homeward and had two delightful days of boating back to Martin's, reaching there Wednesday night, and they leaving Thursday morning, while Edward Spring and I stayed another day to penetrate to the new Philosophers' Camp at Amperzand Pond and see Stillman, the artist, who had invited us all. You who have not seen Eddy Spring, son of Marcus, do not know how sweet and chivalrous and handsome and charming a young man of twenty-two can be, but I found him the most delightful of companions. Amperzand Pond is a region of romance; you go seven miles by water up a secret brook, then four miles' hard climbing through wild and beautiful woods; suddenly the path ends, between great trees, in the loveliest of lakes with no sign of human life. In despair you discharge your rifle, and suddenly a boat comes out from a wooded point, and rec
John Holmes (search for this): chapter 3
akes with no sign of human life. In despair you discharge your rifle, and suddenly a boat comes out from a wooded point, and receives you as guests in fairyland. Stillman is the presiding spirit; he stays there all summer and paints while the other artists and savants who make up the Adirondack Club (or Amperzanders as the boatmen call them) come and go. This summer there have been James Lowell, Estes Howe, Judge Hoar, Horace Gray; and Emerson and Longfellow and others are now coming. John Holmes came, carried in an armchair through the forest by four men; they said it was hard, but he was so funny. They are just buying the pond and its whole surroundings, to keep them sacred from lumbering and injury, and have taken this out-of-the-way place to avoid company and disturbance; besides, it is by far the most beautiful lake we saw, the mountains coming closer and steeper round it than in any other place we saw, and they are laying out rude paths to all the points of interest in the
Henry D. Thoreau (search for this): chapter 3
e went to the lake, some to fish, some to bathe. Had a delicious swim, while fish flapped rapidly on our lines. This was a work of necessity; so I learned afterwards to dress the fish. The mountain this morning was a new wonder. Instead of the radiant outline of filmy brightness, there was a vast tower of chill cloud, with dark towers of precipice showing here and there between. It was no longer our summer friend, but the dark and awful home of the Indian's Pomola. I remembered what Thoreau said, that perhaps it was an insult to the Gods to climb their mountains, and shuddered to think that our night's camp would be within that skirt of white, soft, impenetrable material. Should we dare it? But moment by moment clouds went and came, and always more went than came, and at last the sunlight came and shone brightly on the wood-fringed lakes; and meanwhile we bathed and fished and dressed our fish and went up to breakfast. An adventure! . . Last night we heard mysterious ste
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