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Browsing named entities in Laura E. Richards, Maud Howe, Florence Howe Hall, Julia Ward Howe, 1819-1910, in two volumes, with portraits and other illustrations: volume 1.

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Kennebec (Maine, United States) (search for this): chapter 1
1 from Rhode Island College (now Brown University) with distinguished honors. In Trumbull's painting of the Attack on Quebec in 1776, there is a portrait of Lieutenant-Colonel Ward, a young, active figure with sword uplifted. His life was full of stirring incident. In 1775 he received his commission as Captain, and was one of two hundred and fifty of the Rhode Island troops who volunteered to join Benedict Arnold's command of eleven hundred men, ordered to advance by way of the Kennebec River to reinforce General Montgomery at Quebec. In a letter to his family, dated Point-aux-Trembles, November 26, 1775, Captain Ward says: We were thirty days in the wilderness, that none but savages ever attempted to pass. We marched a hundred miles upon shore with only three days provisions, waded over three rapid rivers, marched through snow and ice barefoot, passed over the St. Lawrence where it was guarded by the enemy's frigates, and are now resting about twenty-four miles from the ci
Goose Creek (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 1
perpetual exile. You will, therefore, instantly prepare to quit your country forever, for, if after ten days from the date hereof, you should be found in any part of the kingdom, your miserable body shall be consumed by fire and your impious ashes scattered on the winds of heaven. (Signed) Pare Rochelle. Within the ten days Benjamin Marion had wound up his affairs, married his betrothed, Judith Baluet, and was on his way to America to seek his fortune. He bought a plantation on Goose Creek, near Charleston, South Carolina, and here he and his Judith lived for many peaceful years in content and prosperity, seeing their children grow up around them. We have not found the date of his death, but Horry gives the principal features of his will as he got them from the family. He calls Judith Marion Louisa, but that is his picturesque way. She may have been Judith Louisa ! Women's names were not of much consequence in those days. After having, in the good old way, bequeath
Louisa, Ky. (Kentucky, United States) (search for this): chapter 1
n the ten days Benjamin Marion had wound up his affairs, married his betrothed, Judith Baluet, and was on his way to America to seek his fortune. He bought a plantation on Goose Creek, near Charleston, South Carolina, and here he and his Judith lived for many peaceful years in content and prosperity, seeing their children grow up around them. We have not found the date of his death, but Horry gives the principal features of his will as he got them from the family. He calls Judith Marion Louisa, but that is his picturesque way. She may have been Judith Louisa ! Women's names were not of much consequence in those days. After having, in the good old way, bequeathed his soul to God who gave it, and his body to the earth out of which it was taken, he proceeds:-- In the first place, as to debts, thank God, I owe none, and therefore shall give my executors but little trouble on that score. Secondly,--As to the poor, I have always treated them as my brethren. My dear family
Hingham (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 1
s lady was married at fourteen to Dr. Hyrne, an officer of Washington's army. Julia well remembered her saying that after her engagement, she wept on being told that she must give up her dolls. Dr. Hyrne lived but a short time, and four years after his death the twenty-year-old widow married Benjamin Clarke Cutler, then a widower, Sheriff of Norfolk County, Massachusetts, and third in descent from John Demesmaker, On first coming to this country, Johannes Demesmaker settled in Hingham, Massachusetts. Later he moved to Boston, where he became known as Dr. John Cutler; married Mary Cowell, of Boston, and served as surgeon in King Philip's War. before mentioned, sometime physician and surgeon. Our mother was much attached to Grandma Cutler, and speaks thus of her in a sketch entitled The Elegant literature of sixty years ago : Grandma will read Owen Feltham's Resolves, albeit the print is too small for her eyes. She knows Pope and Crabbe by heart, admires Shenstone, and tells
Huguenot (New York, United States) (search for this): chapter 1
ay visit her friends in comfort. I give her my family Bible — that she may live above the ill-tempers and sorrows of life. I give my son Peter a hornbook — for I am afraid he will always be a dunce. General Horry goes on to say that Peter was so stunned by this squib that he instantly quit his raccoon hunting by night and betook himself to reading, and soon became a very sensible and charming young man. Gabriel Marion, the eldest son of Benjamin, married a young woman, also of Huguenot blood, Charlotte Cordes or Corday, said to have been a relative of the other Charlotte Corday, the heroine of the French Revolution. To this couple were born six children, the eldest being Esther, our mother's great-grandmother, the youngest, Francis, who was to become the Swamp fox of Revolutionary days. Esther Marion has been called the Queen Bee of the Marion hive; she had fifteen children, and her descendants have multiplied and spread in every direction. She was twice married, fir
Block Island (Missouri, United States) (search for this): chapter 1
and wrote the official account of the last-named battle, which may be found in Washington's correspondence. During the terrible winter at Valley Forge, Lieutenant-Colonel Ward obtained a month's furlough, wooed and married his cousin, Phoebe Greene (daughter of Governor William Greene, of Rhode Island, and of the beautiful Catherine Ray, Granddaughter of Simon Ray, one of the original owners of the island. He was pressed in a cheese-press on account of his religious opinions. of Block Island), and returned to the snows and starvation of the winter camp. Our mother was very proud of her great-grandmother Catherine's memory, treasured her rat-tail spoons and her wedding stockings of orange silk, and was fond of telling how Benjamin Franklin admired and corresponded with her. Some of Franklin's letters have been preserved. He speaks of his wife as the old lady, but says he has got so used to her faults that they are like his own — he does not recognize them any more. In one l
g conclusively to the minds of their elders how much better off they were within doors. Julia's nursery recollections were chiefly of No. 16 Bond Street. Here the little Wards lived a happy but somewhat sober life, under the watchful care of their father, and their faithful Aunt Eliza, known in the family as Auntie Francis. The young mother, in dying, had commended her children specially to the care of this, her eldest sister, whose ability had been tried and proved from childhood. In 1810 her father, Benjamin Clarke Cutler, died suddenly under singular and painful circumstances. Her mother, crushed by this event, took to her bed, leaving the care of the family to Eliza, then fifteen years of age. Eliza took up the house-mother's burden without question; nursed her mother, husbanded the narrow resources of the household, brought up the four younger children with a strong hand. There were giants in those days. Nothing could daunt Eliza Cutler's spirits, which were a perpetu
gue could be sharp as well as merry; witness many anecdotes. The housekeeper of a certain millionnaire, calling upon her to ask the character of a servant, took occasion to enlarge upon the splendors of her employer's establishment. Mr. So-and-So keeps this; Mr. Soand-So keeps that:-- Yes! Yes! said Mrs. Francis; it is well known that Mr. So-and-So keeps everything, except the Ten Commandments! Oh! Mrs. Francis, how could you? cried the poor millionnaire when next they met. In 1829 Eliza Cutler married Dr. John Wakefield Francis, the historian of Old New York, the beloved physician of a whole generation. He was already, as has been seen, a member of the Ward household, friend and resident physician. His tremendous vitality, his quick sympathies, his amazing flow of vivid and picturesque language, made him the delight of the children. He called them by singular pet names, Cream cheese from the Dairy of heaven, Pocket edition of lives of the saints, etc., etc. He sang
stance, Lord, be given, That when life's path I've trod, And when the last frail tie is riven, My spirit may ascend to heaven, To dwell with thee, My God. We cannot resist quoting a stanza from the effusion entitled Father's Birthday :--Louisa brings a cushion rare, Anne Eliza a toothpick bright and fair; And O! accept the gift I bring, It is a daughter's offering. Julia's mind was not destined to remain in the evangelical mould which must have so rejoiced the heart of her father. In 1834, at the ripe age of fifteen, she describes her Vain Regrets written on looking over a diary kept while I was under serious impressions :-- Oh! happy days, gone, never to return At which fond memory will ever burn, Oh, Joyous hours, with peace and gladness blest, When hope and joy dwelt in this careworn breast. The next poem, The land of Peace, breaks off abruptly at the third line, and when she again began to write religious verse, it was from a widely different standpoint. It m
onel Ward, who had not thought fit to flee the enemy,--it was not his habit to flee enemies, -was stricken with the pestilence, and died in New York City, August 16. His death was a grievous blow to Mr. Ward. Not only had he lost a loving and beloved father, but he had no assurance of the orthodoxy of that father's religious opinions. The Colonel was thought in the family to be of a philosophizing, if not actually sceptical, turn of mind; it might be that he was not safe ! Years after, Mr. Ward told Julia of the anguish he suffered from this uncertainty. It is with No. 16 Bond Street that we chiefly associate the sprightly figure of Grandma Cutler, who was a frequent visitor there. The affection between Mr. Ward and his mother-in-law was warm and lively. They had a little language of their own, and she was Lady Feltham (from her fondness for Feltham's Resolves, a book little in demand in the twentieth century); and he was her saucy Lark, or Plato. Mrs. Cutler died in 1836.
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