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Andrew (search for this): chapter 21
bject, which was to obtain from some of the U. S. Judges a habeas corpus act for the release of her husband. In part of her mission she had failed; all with one consent having found some excuse for evading her just demand. She is now impatiently waiting for an opportunity to return; and to the inquiry, what were her prospects? modestly but firmly replied, Whether my husband lives or dies, his paper will be carried on; I shall edit it in his absence. She was brought here last evening by Mr. Andrew, a lawyer from Boston, who was to address our Fremont Club, and supposing that it might be attended here as in so many other places by the women, he had invited this lady to accompany him and tell her story, so that we had the benefit of hearing what she had expected to relate to the public. Her narrative was absolutely thrilling; she described one night in which she and her husband were watched by an armed band of ruffians, who not content with thrusting their heads into the room through
George N. Bigelow (search for this): chapter 21
his wife shall be removed from the tomb in which they had been deposited, and placed by his side. On Sunday he saw Rev. Mr. Bigelow for the first time, making a great effort to gratify him and his other friends by an expression of his views and fevery pleasant and extremely gratifying to Gov. Brooks. While we were standing under the leafy arch erected just below Mr. Bigelow's, waiting his approach, I asked Colonel Pickering who was with Gov. Brooks, if the Marquis was much altered. In repl to be again, here, nor hereafter. To return: a small party dined with Gov. Brooks,—among the rest Charles Brooks and Mr. Bigelow. The former I have not seen since, but Mr. Bigelow acknowledged that dissatisfaction so often felt in the presence ofMr. Bigelow acknowledged that dissatisfaction so often felt in the presence of great characters from whose conversation we have anticipated a fund of delight. Indeed, the Marquis speaks English too imperfectly to display any colloquial talents if he possesses them. Inauguration of President Quincy. Letter June 6,
Stetson (search for this): chapter 21
n of the term. For one like Mr. A., abounding in ten thousand kindnesses, but of no very quick perceptions, I can exercise charity, though he fumes and frets at the very name of anti-slavery; but Mr. B. was for years a warm personal friend of Mr. Stetson, admitted to his inmost thoughts and indoctrinated by his views upon the great topics of the day, and when I saw his name appended to the infamous lick-spittle flattery addressed to Daniel Webster, I felt sick at heart. So too with our femalunt, grease, and vermillion? One day week before last I was making a call in Boston, and in walked Rev.——with gold-headed cane, sleek and trim in shining broadcloth, and looking very like a stall-fed bishop. He began immediately to talk of Mr. Stetson, and to do him justice seemed very glad that he was to remain in Medford. But turning to me, I did not know but his abolitionism and his transcendentalism might have brought him into difficulty among you. On the contrary, was my retort, ever
Clarkson (search for this): chapter 21
y, and the inkstand which she received from the ladies of Edinburgh and Bath. Flowers too adorned it, arranged in the most tasteful manner, and my companion informed me that Mrs. S. was a great proficient in drawing. The walls were covered with presentation pictures. Two portraits beautifully framed in white and gold of the Duke and Duchess of Argyll, one of herself in crayons, framed in the same manner, and presented to her by the artist who had painted Grenville Sharpe, Wilberforce and Clarkson; no less than three pictures designed from Uncle Tom, two of them by French artists, besides a multitude more of which I had not time to take the inventory. Four different pieces of sculpture I also noticed. On leaving her we met two fine looking, curly headed boys, her sons; she has in all six children, and diligently mends their clothing while she dictates to her amanuensis. Miss C. told us that in a day which Mrs. Stowe passed in London with her and Mrs. Follen, Mrs. F. said to her, H
Plumtree (search for this): chapter 21
u see for yourself, we knew. A Glimpse of her reading. Letter May 25, 1867. at the age of 76. I have a choice season of solitude for reading and meditation. One of the most curious books has been, The Present State of Religion and Philosophy in Central Asia, in French, by a Count Gobineau, resident French Ambassador in Athens, giving a wonderful account of the Babs, modern reformers of Islamism in Persia. Besides, a new translation of the seven tragedies of Sophocles, by Mr. Plumtree. This sent me to Greek again, and I have really turned off, after my slipshod fashion, two hundred lines this morning of the Philoctetes, which I pronounce, as far as I know, the most human, Christian, and modern of all the dramas of the great tragedian. Young Neoptolemus appears as a thoroughly honorable high-born youth, with an instinctive honesty which loathes and despises the arts and management of the crafty Odysseus. I have read too, again, with attention, Lessing's Miss Sara Sam
Stowe (search for this): chapter 21
xecution. During the fighting in Rome she was a true sister of charity among the wounded. Mrs. Stowe. Letter June 18, 1854. Last Monday was a white bear day for me, to be long rememberealls in the North Parish. After returning to the South Parish I plucked up courage to call on Mrs. Stowe to whom I had been introduced two years since at Mr. Bartol's. She has purchased on the summiterent schools of the place. But as the plan did not prosper and the building remained on hand Mrs. Stowe purchased and fitted it up as a dwelling house. Nothing can be more massive and solid than thends their clothing while she dictates to her amanuensis. Miss C. told us that in a day which Mrs. Stowe passed in London with her and Mrs. Follen, Mrs. F. said to her, How do you feel Mrs. Stowe, whMrs. Stowe, when the earls and dukes are soliciting the honor of touching your hand? As if I were a great humbug! But as I cannot hinder them there is nothing for me but to submit. Mrs. John Brown. Let
Judah (search for this): chapter 21
a short time since he congratulated himself upon the privilege of addressing that small band of believers who faithful found among the faithless, had come out from the ark upon its falling into the hands of the Philistines. We also are not without our comforters. Last Sunday afternoon the minister prayed with an air of strong assurance rather than of dubious supplication, that the ancient church which had stood for centuries.—(a poetic license)—might be defended by the Lion of the tribe of Judah now that she was passing through the deep waters, and the roaring billows threatened to overwhelm her. He proceeded on the assumption that her sea of troubles was fordable, and prayed that her feet might be of iron, shod with brass,—that her pastor also might draw down a blessing on her by treading closely in the steps of the chief Shepherd, neither stepping forward beyond him, nor turning off on either side, or loitering, but following close behind while he went before,—that he might be f
J. Bishop (search for this): chapter 21
rd your attention will be attracted by the new meeting-house which will first open to your view upon the bridge. Steeple or no steeple was a knotty question among the builders; but after examining the new church at Lynn, the classic taste of Mr. J. Bishop decided in favor of a tower of considerable altitude. In raising it one of the main beams fell, but without doing any other damage than breaking itself and shattering my reputation for christian charity. I was stopped some days afterward in the street by a member of our society who entreated me to abstain in the future from any evening rambles, as the carpenters were resolved to mob me, Mr. Bishop having told them that I very devoutly raised my eyes to heaven and thanked God while the timber was falling on their heads. The house is to be dedicated on the first of August, and Mr. Warner is to be installed at the same time. The salary will be six hundred dollars. The ladies of his parish have offered to provide him a gown, but he
Lydia Maria Child (search for this): chapter 21
that you gladly listened to the end. She was a woman of exceptional culture, but culture she valued not as an ornament, but as a means of moral and spiritual growth. Conscience was supreme in her, the Puritanism from which she came showing itself in this in strong characters. All through her letters I am struck with her vital interest in whatever concerns the morals of society. She was a little late in espousing the antislavery cause, and was led to it by the prodding of her friend, Lydia Maria Child, but her acceptance of it was whole-hearted. The letters just previous to the war of the Rebellion, and while it continued, show the warmest interest, are filled with love of country and of the freedom of the slave which the dread ordeal must establish. One other subject only was as dear to her, that of spiritual religion. Much change in her religious convictions took place in the course of her life, as it must to a growing mind, a change from the Calvinism in which she was trained
Bristol (search for this): chapter 21
honesty, truthfulness, and genuine kindness of heart. Among my pile of letters none is more valuable for beauty of thought, and even of diction, than one from a poor colored woman in this town whom sister used to notice. Another poor woman bore her testimony in this way, I It was not what Miss Mary used to give me that I cared for so much, but it was her pleasant talk. She would sit down and tell me so many things that I never heard of before; why ma'am, she made me feel as if I had seen Bristol. Nothing could exceed the mild and gentle decay of her last illness. It was at Bristol that I became absolutely certain that the end was drawing near, and I shall always remember its lovely drives, shady walks and picturesque scenery as forming her verdant mausoleum. She enjoyed the whole exquisitely, and her drives here at home continued until within a week of her death. Mrs. B. who accompanied us will never forget,—she pointed with such animation to the vivid autumnal tints of the for
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