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Browsing named entities in a specific section of Laura E. Richards, Maud Howe, Florence Howe Hall, Julia Ward Howe, 1819-1910, in two volumes, with portraits and other illustrations: volume 1. Search the whole document.

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April 23rd, 1843 AD (search for this): chapter 4
is very presumptuous — says that he will not lose sight of me for one day, that I must stay here till he can return with me to New York. The Chevalier is very impertinent, speaks of two or three months, when I speak of two or three years, and seems determined to have his own way: but, dear Bunny, the Chevalier's way will be a very charming way, and is, henceforth, to be mine. It was not to be supposed that the Chevalier would wait longer for his bride than was absolutely necessary. The wedding preparations were hurried on, most of them being made by Sisters Annie and Louisa, as Julia could not be brought down from the clouds sufficiently to give them much attention. It was hard even to make her choose her wedding dress; but this was finally decided upon, a white embroidered muslin, exquisitely fine, to be worn over a satin slip. The wedding, a quiet one, took place at Samuel Ward's house, on April 23, 1843, and four days later, Chevalier and Diva sailed together for Europe
1866 AD (search for this): chapter 4
. Her love for her father was to cease only with her life. She never failed to record his birthday in her diary, with some word of tender remembrance. Shortly before Mr. Ward's death, Sam and his wife had moved to a house of their own. The five unmarried children would have been desolate, indeed, if left to themselves in the great house: but to the joy and comfort of all, their bachelor uncle, John Ward, left his own house and came to live with them. From this time until his death in 1866, he was a second father to them. Uncle John! The words call up memories of our own childhood. We see a tall, stalwart figure, clad in loosefitting garments; a noble head crowned by a small brown scratch wig; a countenance beaming with kindliness and humor. A Manila cheroot is between his lips -the fragrance of one never fails to call up his image -and he caresses an unamiable little dog which he fondly loves. He offers a grand-niece a silk dress if she will make it up herself. This wa
November 27th, 1839 AD (search for this): chapter 4
ews he hurried back and threw himself into the conflict, exhorting, sustaining, encouraging. A friend protested, warning him of the peril to his enfeebled health of such exertions. I should esteem life itself not unworthily sacrificed, said Mr. Ward, if by word or deed, I could aid the banks in adhering faithfully to their duty. For nearly two weeks he labored, till the work was done, his city's honor and fair fame secure; then he went home literally to die, departing this life, November 27, 1839. Julia was with him when he died, his hand in hers. The beauty of his countenance in death was such that Anne Hall, the well-known miniature painter, begged permission to paint it, and his descendants may still gaze on the majestic features in their serene repose. Our mother writes of this time: I cannot, even now, bear to dwell upon the desolate hush which fell upon our house when its stately head lay, silent and cold, in the midst of weeping friends and children. Reminiscence
1824 AD (search for this): chapter 4
d from Father Taylor! I was almost disposed to say, surely never man spake like this man. And now good-bye. I must shut up the budget, and keep some for a rainy day. God bless my darling sisters. Love to dear Sam and Uncle. Your Dudie. In these days also she first met her future husband. Samuel Gridley Howe was at this time (1842) forty-one years of age; his life had been a stirring and adventurous one. After passing through Brown University, and the Harvard Medical School, in 1824 he threw in his lot with the people of Greece, then engaged in their War of Independence, and for six years shared their labor and hardships in the field, and on shipboard, being surgeon-in-chief first to the Greek army, then to the fleet. It was noted by a companion in arms, that the only fault found with him was that he always would be in the fight, and was only a surgeon when the battle was over. He eventually found, however, that his work was to be constructive, not destructive. The
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