The Church Historian's Press

January 1886


2 January

EBW stayed a few days with her sister Cordelia Woodward Holden on the Holden farm near Phillipston, Massachusetts.

13 January

EBW made connections in Boston with Henry B. Blackwell and visited his wife, Lucy Stone—editor of the Woman’s Journal—and their daughter, Alice.

19 January

Traveling to outlying towns around Boston, EBW sought out the poet John Greenleaf Whittier and the religious novelist Elizabeth Stuart Phelps.

28 January

When EBW arrived in Washington, DC, for National Woman Suffrage Association meetings, she reported to Utah delegate John T. Caine. They planned for her to meet with Rose Cleveland, the influential sister of the U.S. president.

1 January 1886 • Friday

Jan. 1, 1886 This seemed a very remarkable opening of the new year to me, far from my home and little ones, my heart distracted with the troubles of my people, it seemed sad as well as happy, but there was so much to think of that I tried to dispel all gloominess and enter into the spirit of those with whom for the time being I was thrown. I went with Carrie [Wood Clark] Arthur’s wife to call on cousin Eleanor [Rand Orcutt] <at West Orange>1 again, had a nice drive and pleasant call. Came home from there past the Woodland Cottage where my sister Delia [Cordelia Woodward Holden] once lived. After we had lunch we Pallas [Woodward Clark] and I went out calling. Went first to Darwin Merriam’s then to my old friends house Elzina [Emery] Haskins once Emory, then to the house of Col. Thos. L. Pierce and to Mr. Stephen Goddards. Mr. Goddard spoke more amicably of Utah that [than] any of the others and to me this was very gratifying. He has been quite a sufferer from paralysis. I bought Mrs. [Elizabeth Barrett] Brownings poems [p. 74] {p. 68} for Lilian [Lillian Clark Ramsey]. After we went home and had tea I went up stairs and packed up as we were going to Delia’s the next afternoon.

2 January 1886 • Saturday

<Jan. 2. 1886>

In the morning we called on Nancy Crowl now Washburne [Washburn], she had been a pupil of mine although older than I was. She was quite pleased explained that she was an invalid and showed us her work in manufacturing flowers. Then we went to Lilian’s, and as it was not time to leave or come to take dinner. I went away ever so far up the hill to call on a school mate of mine Laura Cummings now Richards and a widow. She was not at home for which I was exceedingly sorry, but I saw her daughter now Mrs. Edwin [W.] Holden [Evelina Richards Holden] nephew to Josiah [B. Holden], she expressed her own pleasure and said she knew how sorry her mother would be that she was not at home. I came through the graveyard back to Lilians and read and copied the inscription on the tomb of one of my girl friend’s. Kate Putnam [p. 75] {p. 69}

Wm. Pallas and I had dinner at Lillian’s and bade her good bye, Pallas and I went on to Delia’s by way of Athol and South Royalston. Mr. [Josiah B.] Holden met us at the depot and took us to his comfortable home. The meeting with my sister was quite affecting, Delia did seem more demonstrative than any one had since I came, and I think she was really very much affected, she was the last one who saw me when I left and was as much interested in me as she could be to have me excel in everything. We found her on a lovely old farm with every comfort possible and her husband a most willing subject it seemed to me, his great pleasure consisted as far as I could see in making her happy Outside and in there was an air of neatness and abundance. The horses and cattle were well housed and even the pigs and chickens. We had a very nice supper and was introduced to Miss Ida [Janette] Holden her step daughter [p. 76] {p. 70} Jennie [Holden Page] a younger one had been married the day but one before and had gone away. The house still showed some signs of the wedding festivities wreath and garlands of evergreen and baskets and plates of flowers, were here and there and the wedding cake was much of it still not eaten. During the evening we went over many old scenes and occurrences and tired at out at last we retired, I slept with my sister Pallas, this was the first time I had slept with any of my folks since coming.

3 January 1886 • Sunday

The next day Jan. 3d was Sunday and it rained all day long of course the only alternative was to stay in doors and talk and eat, and our tongues were not long <or still nor our voices> silent for there was much to speak of with those so long separated now met after more than forty years, but all this had to come to a close at bedtime and the rain still poured down in torrents. I wrote a letter home that night and did a little other writing [p. 77] {p. 71}

4 January 1886 • Monday

<Phillipston near South Royalston>

Mon. Jan. 4. It still rained, I thought a great deal about home as it was George Q [Cannon]’s2 birthday and I know the folks at home would be celebrating it in some way or other. We enjoyed the day very much together and as usual talked and ate & talked again. Pallas is very interesting because she knows so much about all the places and people, that interest me and Delia lived so long in Hartford that she lost sight of many we once knew.

5 January 1886 • Tuesday

Tuesday Jan. 5. This morning I determined to go out rain or shine, so I watched for a lull in the storm which came about ten and we ventured forth. Pallas Delia & I, we climbed the hill south of us and went through the old fashioned bars, we saw the stone wall where 2 yoke of cattle could very easily be driven and we found cheekaberries and evergreens and mosses in abundance we jumped from rock to rock visited the sugar orchard and went through the barn etc. etc. [p. 78] {p. 72}

After dinner we all set out in the light spring wagon, Pallas was going home and we went as far as <Royalston there took the train for> Athol with her. We called on Jennie who had just married [blank space]3 and found her well and happy apparently, then called on Calista Phillips now Mrs. Warren Pierce, They keep a hotel, and after that we went with Pallas to the depot and there I bade her good bye. Then we found Eddie [James Edward Fuller] Delia’s son and went with him to eat supper at his boarding place. He gave me a picture of his Brother. Will [Willis M. Fuller] who works in North Adams, then Delia & I took the train and on arriving in Royalston found her husband waiting for us with his buggy. We drove home late and had a little visit and Mr. & Mrs. Holden retired leaving me an open field. I wrote very late.

6 January 1886 • Wednesday

Jan 6. Delia took me out for a ride, we passed a sugar farm where the troughs were out and the trees had been tapped and the sap was running; this was strange for the first [p. 79] {p. 73} part of January. We drove to the top of a very long hill where we could see Phillipston, Templeton, Royalston, Athol, and Winchendon and then we turned our faces homeward. The day was colder with a sort of strong wind. This was my last day at Delia’s and I felt we must make the most of it. She sat down and twined me a wreath of what we used to call valentine, it is a sort of evergreen with fanciful leaves. We had a pleasant afternoon and evening and made every preparation to start next morning. Mr. Holden asked me to come back & go with him to the Masonic Ball on Feb. 5th, and quite insisted upon it.

7 January 1886 • Thursday

Early next morning Jan. 7. I was up & dressed ate a little breakfast and set out, I felt very keenly this good bye, for I had not been very long with her and it seemed almost cruel. But it must be & so we went to the depot with Mr. Holden in the very cold winter morning. At the station he introduced me to Mrs. Patney [p. 80] {p. 74} a very intimate friend of my sister’s and also a spiritualist in practise of mediecine. We went on the train together to Baldwinville where I had to change cars and she went on with that train. I passed the Old Furnace and got a pretty good look, especially of the school house, but there was no one of whom I could ask any question. When I reached Thorndike my brother and his wife4 were just getting on the train for Springfield. I urged them to go and I went to the house to read my letters & to look over the papers from home When they came back about 2 o’clock we talked over our plans and especially about going to Boston, spent a rather pleasant afternoon and evening and Hiram decided to go with me to Boston the next morning or afternoon, and I was very much pleased, went to bed light hearted and rose in good spirits as one usually does when anything very [p. 81] {p. 75} important is about to transpire. My letters from home contained good news and so I felt at rest and at peace.

8 January 1886 • Friday

Friday Jan. 8. I visited with my brother’s wife all I could in the forenoon and after dinner we set out for Boston. On the way my brother spoke more freely to me than he had at any time since my arrival. He is very quiet and has very little to say at any time, we passed a pleasant afternoon and reached Boston in good time, drove to the Parker House where we registered and took rooms my brother went out to look after some business and I ordered a cup of tea in my room and warmed myself by the lovely open <fire of coal in the> grate.

Afterwards we went down to the great dining hall and had dinner, there was a Club <dinner> in the largest dining hall and the gentlemen were making speeches, [p. 82] {p. 76}

Then we went to the Boston Theatre and saw the Opera of “Il Traviata” the prima donna Miss Lilian Norton made her debut in opera that night, and being a Boston girl she received a perfect ovation, the stage was nearly covered with flowers <arranged> in every conceiveable design. Gov. Robinsin [George D. Robinson] wife and daughter were in a box at the right hand of the stage.

9 January 1886 • Saturday

Jan. 9. when we rose the next morning to our great surprise the ground was covered with snow and it was still falling. My brother went out but soon came back, however I thought I might venture, so wrapping up well we set out to see if possible, “The Battle of Gettysburg.” <(Cyclorama)> We were both charmed and entranced with it, and I may say quite affected so were all the people who came in, it seemed as if it must be real, the illusion in consequence of the happy adaptation of atmospheric effects was so complete [p. 83] {p. 77} Then we went to the State House but as the Legislature was not in session, it being Saturday, some parts of it were closed. It is a very imposing structure with a bronzed dome that makes it very conspicuous in the distance. Shortly after our return my brother took train for home and I was left alone, I sat down and wrote. I had been out for a short time looking around Boston by gas light, went to the Old Corner Book Store on the corner of School and Washington Streets. It is one of the best known places in Boston.

10 January 1886 • Sunday

Sunday Jan. 10. Went to Old King’s Chapel just across the street from the Parker House, the preacher an Episcopal clergyman took his text from the Savior’s words. Matthew 22d. Chapter and 11th. verse. “And when the king came in to see the guests, he saw there a man, who had not on a wedding garment, &c &c 12th & 13th [p. 84] {p. 78} verses. He was a fine orator, pleasing in manner a good voice and in all respects well adapted to the position he occupied, but he understood not the Scriptures, I felt that I would like to tell him the meaning of the wedding garment. The singing was not very good, and there were very few people in the Church and those few were most of them evidently people of wealth. The Church had been decorated evidently for Christmas and it looked very handsome and made quite a picture. The place was very old fashioned which suited my idea exactly for the high comfortable pews reminded me of my childhood days. The pulpit was more than ordinarily elaborate, trimmed in red silk and velvet and with a staircase and door of ivory, and I thought O, how different is this man’s calling and appointments to that of the Savior and the poor fisherman’s of Galilee and that of our poor Elders who go out to [p. 85] {p. 79} preach without money and without price. his name was Peabody (Rev.) In the afternoon I took a carriage and drove to the “First Spiritual Temple,” a very handsome and large new place of worship in the corner of Newberry and Exeter Streets. The Spiritualists claim that it was built mostly under the direction of the spirit of Confucius; it however had nothing Chinese in its architecture. It would seat probably 3000 people and about a hundred and ten or twenty were all that had assembled. The organ was quite large and handsome it stood at the back of the platform. One lady did the singing and it was excellent, her fine powerful and melodious voice filled that large hall and the rendering of her hymns was exquisite. A lady occupied the stand though on each side of her sat a man, who each seemed intent upon their own thoughts for they neither stirred or [p. 86] {p. 80} spoke. The lady announced herself as Dr. Edding. She was very good looking and modestly attired. She opened by saying that Confucius was to speak, and then went on with what Confucius had to say, and if it was such a difficult thing to come here why did he come for he told the people nothing that any one need be anxious to hear. The feeling it produced upon me was one of agony and when she finished and came out of the trance, I felt the sort of sigh of relief that one does when after witnessing the tortures and pain of a woman in child birth it is all over. and At the close she acted very ridiculous and even silly but this passed off and was I hope forgotten. The singer clamored long <continued the service,> and pealed forth in sounds of ever welcome joy the strains of “I know that my Redeemer liveth.” I walked back to the Hotel and found dinner still being served. it was a long distance however, and I was quite weary [p. 87] {p. 81} I walked back to the Hotel a long distance and had a good opportunity to see Boston on my way. In the evening I went to Tremont Temple where they were holding Baptist Revival meetings, and I had a good opportunity of seeing & hearing how they were conducted. After some of the exercises the contribution boxes with long handles were put under every one’s nose, and remarks were made by some, there is no place for any one unless they have money, not even in the Churches. The speaker was Rev. Mr. Haynes and he took for his text a part of that Chapter in Acts which treats of Cornelius the centurion, and he interpreted it after his own fashion, and I felt as I had done in the morning service at Kings Chapel how glad I should be to tell the people the truth. [p. 88] {p. 82}

11 January 1886 • Monday

Monday January 11th 1886. As soon as I could after breakfast I set off to find Lettie [Thorndike Granger] and her mother. She had moved and I had some difficulty in ascertaining where they were gone, but at last found Mrs. [Sarah Lemon] Thorndike the mother. I staid a short time and conversed with her and then went out sight seeing and hunted up M. [Marquis] F. Dickinson a young lawyer and called at his place of business in the Equitable Building but he was not in. In the evening I went to the Boston Museum to see Edwin Booth in the play of Rechilieu [Richelieu]. Lettie learned that I was in town and came to call upon me.

Late at night a man went crazy in the Hotel and created quite a furore among the guests and the help. I was terribly alarmed having understood the cry to be fire. [p. 89] {p. 83}

12 January 1886 • Tuesday

Tuesday Jan. 12. 1886. The first thing in the morning I went to the Office of the Watchman5 and saw the Editor in chief also Miss Johnson a young business woman, who told me my name was very well known there, and told me how she enjoyed my paper and that she had many pieces of poetry clipped from it in her scrap book, from there I went to the Office of the Woman’s Journal,6 met one or two Office women, and Mr. H. [Henry] B. Blackwell who was very cordial in his manner and invited me to take tea with his wife the celebrated Lucy Stone. we arranged for the following day, and I was to meet him at the Old Colony Depot to go with him to Neponset. After that I went back to the Hotel and took dinner and set off for Milton on the Old Colony Railroad. On my way I called on Mr. T. L. Rogers at the Post Office Block No. 9. went over to Milton found the Office of [p. 90] {p. 84} my cousin but he was not there. Got a copy of the paper, “Milton News.” Lettie came for me and we went to the Park Theatre and saw Nat Goodwin in the Skating Rink a sort of low comedy and quite disgusting to me, but she seemed to enjoy it. There was a very full house

13 January 1886 • Wednesday

Wednes. Jan. 13. 1886. Lettie came to help me in getting to places well known to her, we took a herdic and drove to the New England Hospital for women and children, at first we had a little delay in getting in as it was not the regular day, but finding I was an editor and had come from afar, they consented to show me through, the matron was very kind and did all she could to have me comprehend the practical workings of the institution, and its labors. There is a lying in hospital a few rods away in the yard, also [p. 91] {p. 85} a laundry. It is well regulated and very complete in all its appointments; everything is marked each cup saucer, plate, knife, fork and spoon, and everything.

From there we went to the New England Conservatory of Music and found Evan Stephens a musician & student from Utah. He was delighted as I was the first person he had seen from home, and I asked him to come and spend the evening with me as I should be going out in the afternoon to Neponset. He invited me to go to the opera with him on the next evening and I consented to stay over to attend. That afternoon was one of some importance to me, and I had my hair dressed and wore my silk velvet, and was on time to meet Mr. Blackwell at the station On arriving at the depot called Pope’s Hill, a sleigh was in waiting [p. 92] {p. 86} and we drove up a very steep hill to the dwelling, a very handsome house indeed, Lucy Stone in a most gracious mood came out upon the piazza to meet and welcome me, Mr. Blackwell said “Mrs. Wells this is my wife,” and she immediately said, “Lucy Stone.” She is evidently very tenacious of her rights. Coming in to the room through the Hall I was introduced to Miss Alice Stone Blackwell, a young lady of very uncertain age tho’ decidedly intellectual in appearance. I was favorably impressed with all I saw, a bright fire burned in the elegant grate and all the furnishings of the room were in such good taste that one would find it difficult to say more than that all harmonized well. The conversation naturally turned upon Utah and the present crisis in its affairs especially the new law7 [p. 93] {p. 87} which had but just passed the United States Senate with only seven nays. Mr. Blackwell disapproved the bill though not declaring against all its provisions. Miss Alice said if that bill passed the people would be indignant for it was unjust and unconstitutional in the important sections, one was the confiscation of Church property & the other the taking away of suffrage from women.

We dined about six and had some very pleasant conversation at table and also afterwards. Lucy Stone showed me her desk where she sits and writes most of her articles. At eight o’clock Miss Blackwell fixed me up carefully and bundled me into the sleigh and her father drove with me to the station. I arrived at the Hotel shortly after & immediately my cousin W. [William] A. Woodward called upon me and also Br. Evan Stephens and we passed a pleasant evening [p. 94] {p. 88} together.

14 January 1886 • Thursday

The next morning Thurs. Jan. 14. I was quite ill. Lettie came to go out with me but I did not feel well enough to sit up. However after taking a sedletz [Seidlitz] powder I plucked up courage enough to get out into the air and we caught a car and went to Bunker Hill Monument, and although I felt very faint and weak I went up to the very top of it. Bought a view and also two little keepsakes for the girls & then we went through Trinity Church and the Art Museum. The same evening Mr. Stephens called for me and we went to the New England conservatory and heard five of the first pieces and then to the theatre to see Rigoletta [Rigoletto]. So ended another busy day.

15 January 1886 • Friday

Friday Jan. 15. In the morning I took a car and went to Cambridgeport and from there to the depot and to Haverhill to see one of my schoolmates the wife8 of Dr. [Oliver S.] Lovejoy of that city [p. 95] {p. 89} The ride was a charming one thro’ a delightful part of the State & I saw much beauty in the scenery even though it was wintry. My meeting with her was one of the happy features of my visit East for she was so perfectly delighted to see me. and she so reminded me of myself and of our young life together that I could not help feeling for a long time afterwards just as though I had seen a vision. I hurried back to the Hotel and dined and my cousin9 called to take me to Somerville to see his family. His mother10 was glad to see me and her daughter Mrs. Eva [Lillian Eva Woodward] Twycross was very entertaining, she paints well & had a beautiful little girl,11 her husband12 looks very like a Frenchman. About 1/2 past nine my cousin George [G. Woodward] came in from Boston where he goes every day to attend to business; he was so entirely different to what I had [p. 96] {p. 90} anticipated that I could not get over the shock or sort of revulsion of feeling. All my illusions faded, he had been my little boy Boston cousin and I remembered his father13 bringing him to the village once when I was a little child and how we played in the garden, and my remembrance of him was of the most pleasing kind, but now all my fancy faded away before the reality. So died out one of my childish remembrances of beauty and delight. Will sung, played and whistled for me & my cousin George talked on until it was very late, and I found it would be impossible to get home or to the Hotel. So I was compelled to sleep there. I had a nice large room with a register in it and a gas jet burning all night. The next morning my cousin’s wife had a delicious breakfast served early and Will and I set off directly after eating towards Boston–

16 January 1886 • Saturday

Sat. Jan. 16. [p. 97] {p. 91} I went to Athens Street to see my cousin Mrs. Georgina V. Robinson. Will had felt sure that I should like her because she was interested in some of the progressive movements for women and so far I did, but there is another side to this as well as many other stories. I found her one of those blue stockings who in the midst of dirt and confusion could ply her pen or her tongue to good advantage and while discussing in a very able manner George Eliot’s books or the daily papers, could be perfectly at ease in a parlor that seemed not to have been swept or dusted for weeks. Her excuse could not have been family cares because she had no children living (all were dead) and her husband went every day to his business in the centre of town. She had plenty of money and if she did not keep a servant that was her own fault. I am sure I do not know if she did or not but I scarcely think so– [p. 98] {p. 92} Will had told me that she had the “Woodward Coat of Arms,” but she denied it at least so far that she had no confidence in its being anything more than a humbug. And did not offer to let me see it. I think her the truest specimen or illustration of Dickins [Dickens] Mrs. [blank] [Jellby] in Bleak House that one could possibly wish or expect to see.

I went back to the Parker House & took dinner, Lettie came and we went out to buy some presents for the children and then I took the train for Palmer, arrived safe and changed cars for Thorndike and came into the depot there and met my brother about 1/2 past six p.m. Spent the evening very pleasantly telling them my visit with Whittier and so on, and retired for the night to the room I had slept in there before very comfortable and warm. Wrote one letter home and filled in the day in my diary– [p. 99] {p. 93}

17 January 1886 • Sunday

Sunday Jan. 18.14 Mary Jane [Groo]’s birthday, how long ago that does seem many events of interest to me transpired in that year.15 I went to Nauvoo Jos. Smith & Hyram [Hyrum Smith] were martyred, my little Eugene [H. Harris], my only son, was born and died his father left me alone in a strange city and wandered away and never returned, I never saw him again, broken-hearted young and desolate without home, money or any friends I was left to my fate, and although I felt no special guidance yet the hand of Providence was over me and must have guided me to the safe haven I found. We had family exercises after breakfast reading in the Bible <in rotation> and repeating the Lord’s prayer in concert with closed eyes and bowed heads sitting in one’s chair. It was not like prayer or supplication, it really was not asking the Lord for any thing but it was simply going through a [p. 100] {p. 94} form a ceremony and my brother seems so earnest and sincere even in the little things pertaining to his faith that one cannot help feeling he is truly a saint so far as he has knowledge of the truth but he is not willing to receive new light. Prejudice is so strong in the human soul that it is like piercing the gloom of midnight darkness with a rush light which is constantly being extinguished by the overpowering darkness.

I went with my brother and his family to their Church. The Congregation was small but seemed to be made up of the best people the village afforded, and the Rev. Mr. Hurd read and prayed and the Choir sung and then he the minister took for his text “Prove all things and hold fast that which is good,” and from that he preached quite a powerful sermon for a Sectarian minister, but the world neither [p. 101] {p. 95} the ministers nor their followers practise what they preach. His wife was too good in her own estimation to speak to a Mormon woman, and insulted me by coming up to my sisterin law and taking her right away from me, and keeping me standing in the cold vestibule waiting until she had finished all she wished to say. This is piety, humility and charity with them. But it is not and never can be the religion of Christ. It is neither what He taught or practised. But be that as it may it is the way of the world, and it is the love of gain for which most men preach. After meeting we had a very excellent dinner & then we went in a two seated carriage for a ride. Hiram, Granger [Farley Granger Clark], Geneva [F. Clark], Carrie and myself. We went round to the farm they own and through several long lines of woods, dry now to be sure and leafless the oak, maple walnut, birch etc. but the pine [p. 102] {p. 96} spruce and hemlock still green, some red berries berries called winter berries or bitter sweet and mountain ash with red berries also and sumach still glowing red notwithstanding the snow and frost. This ride was the only long one I had with my brother and it was very enjoyable for although the landscape was wintry it was still beautiful and he showed me many magnificent <country> places, that in summer time would have presented the most complete natural loveliness. The house where Belle [Isabel Whitney Sears] Louie [Louisa M. Wells] Carrie and himself had taken refuge in a thunderstorm16 was pointed out to me. In the evening he absented himself from Church a most unusual thing solely on my account. and we visited until the hour was late around the fire of pine knots in the handsome grate in the back parlor. Bedtime came at last and with it a sort of relief that I might be alone with my thoughts of dear ones at [p. 103] {p. 97} home and of associations and interests with which he had no sympathy & of which though my heart was so full I had not the privilege to speak.

18 January 1886 • Monday

Monday Jan. 18. Spent the morning writing letters and talking to my brother’s wife, we had a few hours together. About three in the afternoon I went with him through the great cotton mills of Thorndike and witnessed all the different processes of the raw cotton up to the cloth finishing and packing for the market. Received letters from Louie & Sister [Elizabeth Harrison] Goddard and wrote to Dot, Sep, Lucile[,] Percival and Emmie.17 I felt that I had done a good day’s work.

19 January 1886 • Tuesday

Tuesday Jan. 19. I arose early found it snowing but nothing daunted persevered took the train went to Boston then took the Old Colony Road to Dan<v>ers. Arrived there about 12 took dinner at a hotel and hired a conveyance and drove to Oak Knoll [p. 104] {p. 98} O such a lovely place, and in summer time or Autumn must indeed be glorious; the magnificent old trees, situation of the handsome house the hill or knoll on which it stands all tend to make a picture of beauty & an impression of its grandeur. As we drove up to the door a woman of handsome and stately figure stood upon the Piazza facing the drive playing with a dog, she came forward immediately and I told her I had come to see Mr. [John Greenleaf] Whittier. She said I am very sorry but he is not here, but “come in” so hospitably, and when I stood upon the portico she recognized me. She was Mrs. [Abby] Woodman, cousin of the poet who had once called on me. I was ushered in my wraps taken off for it was snowing, the conveyance was sent away and I was brought into the handsome large and elegant parlor, where Whittier’s picture when he was a young man adorned [p. 105] {p. 99} the space above the Mantel. It was a large and very interesting portrait by whom executed I did not ask, but he had evidently done his work well. There were many beautiful ornaments and some statuary in the room, and it presented altogether the most artistically furnished drawing room I have been in anywhere. One of the Miss Johnson’s18 came in almost as soon as I reached the parlor, but the other the eldest19 was reclining on a sofa in the adjoining parlor where a bright wood fire was burning on the hearth. That room too seemed the perfection of elegance. She rose however and came in took an easy chair and joined in the conversation which as a natural consequence turned upon Utah. I found all these accomplished and intelligent women much more free from prejudice than most of the people one meets here and there. and they conversed on the subject [p. 106] {p. 100} of the Edmund’s bill and the measures taken to enforce the objectionable law with much feeling and interest in our affairs. They invited me to have dinner but I had already dined; they talked to me of the grounds, the fruits and nuts around Oak Knoll and what pleasure there was in the Fall gathering the nuts for Winter; said that the poet enjoyed it very much indeed and so on. O it is a grand and poetic place and deserves to be written up in verse the most tender and sentimental. I inquired for the Author Elizabeth Stuart Phelps <to> whom when they were in Salt Lake they had promised to introduce me; they had also told me then of some of her eccentricities and of her having written, “Beyond The Gates,” while their neighbor, and how she had contrived to have some birds that were noisy killed off because they disturbed her. which did not increase my admiration for her, though my [p. 107] {p. 101} my desire to see her was very great. Miss Johnson informed me that her brother cousin Mr. Whittier was at Amesbury but that she expected him home very soon and also that I could not get a train for Amesbury that night but would have to go back to Boston; however she thought as I had come on purpose I might see E. S. Phelps on my way back <by stopping> at Lynne, whither she had gone & taken a cottage out at Ocean View to write another book. They offered to show me up stairs and I asked to see Mr. Whittier’s study where he wrote most of his poems; in the room where he spends most of his time, there was the richest carpet rugs and hangings; an elegant desk which was unlocked, so that his cousin opened it displaying the usual litter of literary people, and shelves of books in sort of library style, hundreds of volumes I should say in short the room [p. 108] {p. 102} was most attractively furnished and finished. She then showed me his bedroom. A large square chamber it seemed to be over the parlor, the bed was large and comfortable looking & stood in the centre of the room with the head to the north. Everything for convenience luxury and comfort was there and one could easily imagine it a fitting place for rest from toil and brain work, and a place suitable for the slumber of the American poet. After being shown the house etc. the ladies ordered their own horse and sleigh to take me to the depot, and I bade them an affectionate good bye, kissing each one of those sweet women and they returned it as affectionately and accompanied me to the front piazza. The rain was pouring and freezing as it fell but my heart was warm and my mind full of pleasant fancies from [p. 109] {p. 103} the association of place and people, and I did not feel the piercing wind nor the cold freezing rain. I went on to the depot and took train back to Lynn arriving there hired a carriage and drove over to Ocean View found the cottage to which I had been directed but Miss E. S. P. was gone. Doomed to another disappointment but nothing daunted I set out again and went on to Andover stopping to change cars at South Lawrence when the rain was literally pouring down. But I was comforted with the hope and ardent desire of seeing her and I cared little for the storm. I arrived at Andover about six o’clock and drove to the first hotel where I had supper and found there was a concert to be given and all the carriages were engaged, so that it was impossible to obtain one at all. But at last I learned the way to the residence of the Prof. whose daughter I was so anxious to see and though the rain and sleet were [p. 110] {p. 104} falling so much as almost <to> blind one, yet my desire to see Miss Phelps was so great that I did not feel the hardship though even my waterproof did not protect me altogether, and after walking over a very slippery sidewalk up a hill which seemed to me to be a mile or more in ascent I reached at last the house in which dwelt the lady whom I so much desired to see. I saw through the window for the curtains were not drawn down a lady with a white breakfast shawl thrown over her shoulders, and guessed not from the casual glance that it was the woman I was so anxious to meet. However it was, and when the bell was answered she appeared in the hall behind the maid who came and thinking I wanted her father, as I had asked if it were Judge [Austin] Phelp’s residence she spoke & said her father was ill but she would receive any message him. I said no my only object in coming was to see the author his daughter Miss Elizabeth [p. 111] {p. 105} Stuart Phelps, she said then I am the person Elizabeth Stuart Phelps and will attend to whatever you have to say, in a sort of arrogant manner that quite jarred upon my feelings after the great pains trouble and expense I had put myself to to see her. Evidently she was cold and austere if not always at least then, I could have cried. All the love I had felt for her as an author a writer a woman who desired to help humanity died within me a cruel agonizing death and I thought how different to Helen Jackson and those beautiful cousins of Whittier, and I felt she was as hard as alabaster, even if she had not known I was wet and cold, when I had walked that weary distance after traveling as I had on the train, common humanity would or ought to have inspired her with some sense of sympathy if not of tenderness, but no, she was ill she said and could not talk, I said you need not I would like to warm myself a [p. 112] {p. 106} little here by the radiator, and then I will go I managed to tell her notwithstanding how hurt I felt how much her books had been read and admired in Utah, but as soon as she knew I was a Mormon, she was like a woman bereft of sense and exclaimed in haste and excitement “God pity you” “God help you.” She said very harsh very disagreeable things, all in such a way as to convey the idea that Mormons were as far beneath all other people as slaves or serfs or even more so. I did not retaliate I was too much hurt. I had almost periled my life to see her and this was my requital. It was a very hard and bitter lesson to me, I had almost worshipped her fine intellect, her wonderful genius, but it was all crushed out of me the glory that dazzled me from the distance fled when I beheld her and I saw a cold, proud, haughty, tyrannical woman, who held herself above her sister woman, who looked with scorn on [p. 113] {p. 107} those of another faith she held to be false. I felt sick at heart, when she saw I was really weary and chilled through she said should she have some hot tea made for me; the very thought of taking anything from her made the hot blood rush to my face. I said no, I will go, <at the door she bade me seek the Lord for greater light & get rid of my delusion> she made some apology about having no one to send with me, and advised me to go to the Hotel near there instead of walking back down the long slippery hill, this I was glad to do, though I did not tell her so, for I felt it would be impossible to go back on foot, and I went as she directed and was soon in a chamber alone with a comfortable wood-fire and my own thoughts & then the tears kept back by pride flowed freely. O, why do we build up such phantasies, and delusions, and worship that which is afar off, that we know not. It was a hard and cruel lesson to me but I hope it may be at least a useful one to me, and that I may never be [p. 114] {p. 108} so carried away with any one before I have seen them as I was with her. It so happened that the house was a curious old mansion and the very room in which I was to sleep was as old-fashioned as I could possibly wish for. there had been a most immense fire-place and mantel but it was plastered up now, and a queer oval stove as old looking as forty years ago or more was put in, and in the right hand corner was a little closet and cupboard all in one. Here I found a stock of wood, for the fire burned down and there was no bell to ring and I went through the long halls up stairs and down but could not find any one to wait upon me. I could hear men’s voices but I did not dare to open the door into the room where they were and so crept back to the chamber like one frightened, but I found the wood and kept up a good fire, later on the rain <& hail> ceased to beat against the windows and I raised one of the [p. 115] {p. 109} blinds and looked out upon one of the most magnificent winter night-scenes it has been my good luck ever to see. The moon and stars were shining out clear and lovely and the rain and sleet had frozen itself to the trees and hung in great clusters and shining pendants from the leafless branches of the great elms and lindens, and the sight was one fit for a poet or an artist, I gazed long and reluctantly shut out the beautiful vision. I never saw a larger number of old and magnificent trees than there are in that old theological town. It has been a seat of learning and of wisdom as well as of theolocry [theology] and from it has grown up many orthodox towns around. There were many oldfashioned places and much antique furniture in this Hotel and this perhaps though pleasing me in one way, yet made me feel strange and nervous, and I sat up late into the night shuddering with premonitions [p. 116] {p. 110} of evil. But at last after many hours of waking praying and tears in abundance I went to bed cold and wakeful trembling at the sound of the wind among the great trees that stood so near the room, it was a large corner room and had two windows opening into the yard at the South and one towards the West, and such tall majestic trees creaking and moaning in this wild wintry night for the wind had risen about midnight, and the noises in the old place were weird enough to call up the most superstitious fancies and recollections of the olden times. Weariness and sadness at last closed my eyes and though my sleep was fitful and unrefreshing yet I managed to doze so that I was not sick after the cold and unpleasant fancies of the night. I had told the servant to waken me <early> when I went to my room as I wished to take an early train and as soon as daylight peeped he [p. 117] {p. 111} knocked outside my door, and as I was already awakened I rose and dressed myself.

20 January 1886 • Wednesday

O, what a lovely morning <January 20. Wednesday> it was I looked out over the old fanciful town so stiff and staid in the days gone by with its colleges and seminaries of learning, all was calm and still scarcely a creature stirring & only here and there the smoke issuing from a chimney, it was almost like the picture of a dead city so cold and placid and serene, the long jewels of ice hung from a thousand boughs and the snow like a mantle wrapped the whole city in the embrace of its white bosom, the sun seemed to smile like some angel sent to lend glory to the presence of death, O, how cold the world looked, beauti[ful]– but icy cold in its magnificence. In one of the waiting rooms I saw an old settle such as I had often tried to describe to my children, and the boxes or drawers underneath the seat were just as my Sister [p. 118] {p. 112} Pallas had explained to me indeed the past I had forgotten, but the back was not so high, it may have been modernized but it was even longer than I had remembered those that I had seen in my childhood. I said to the land lord is not this a settle and he looked at me very curiously and replied like a yankee with the question “How did you know?” Whereupon I said because I have seen them when I was a child in very old houses. The negro servant20 waited upon me to my coffee and corn cake etc. and then the carriage was at the door and I went out into the bracing air of the cold winter morning. I took a good look at the Mansion it was indeed a fine old place, but it was not the only one, the houses were nearly all old, the Churches too and great elms and trees of different varieties with their load of icy foliage resplendent in the sunshine bowed themselves to the [p. 119] {p. 113} wind and tossed their icy boughs about. To the depot and took train for Amesbury <Boston and then for Amesbury> waiting over after all at Newberryport [Newburyport], and such a lovely ride, the scenery so grand that even the most unimpressionable of all the passengers seemed to be inspired with some enthusiasm. Arriving at Amesbury after all, I inquired for the home of Mr. John G. Whittier, and was driven thither. A very plain looking house white and surrounded with snow, but inside were warm hearts & true to generous impulses and the housemaid even was genial. She took in my card to the poet and came back with a smile on her kindly face saying “come in lady” and I was quite willing, he came into the parlor to meet me, but there was no fire there and he took me into his study and welcomed me with the hospitality of an old courtier of the days of chivalry. His bearing, his [p. 120] {p. 114} face his smooth white hair, his black broadcloth all helped to give him a venerable appearance, and I was fascinated by his genuine and & courtly manner. He talked freely to me of our people, he made various inquiries about the Edmunds Law, he wanted to know why Senator Edmunds was so persistent in his measures to uproot Mormonism. I answered his queries on our subject, I gave him our reasons for the practise of plural marriage and showed him how we viewed the practises of the men of the world, also the abhorence with which we looked upon the destruction of unborn children and remarked as I have been led to many times during my visit in the East, it looks as if we would soon have more New England stock in Utah than they have here in New England. We had one of the most charming interviews and when he found I was going to return by the afternoon train to [p. 121] {p. 115} Boston he insisted on my remaining & dining with him. He introduced me to the lady of the house who rents the place I think and with whom he boards when there, and we had a little conversation, then he asked her to hurry the dinner so we might have plenty of time and I might catch the train, and she left the room and we resumed our conversation on Mormonism. Mr. Whittier made many admissions to me in reference to our faith and practices, and among other things said he had no doubt we had many better men among us who practised polygamy than Abraham Isaac and Jacob were. But to record all we said would be to much labor even if I remembered it correctly enough but we fully enjoyed it I believe for he manifested his pleasure in words and in manner. Judge [George W.] Cate and his wife21 sat at dinner and we made a pleasant party of four. [p. 122] {p. 116} I sat opposite Mr. Whittier and we talked on and on. We had huckleberry pie for desert and it was the first time I had tasted one since a child. After dinner he gave me a photograph of the room in which we had been sitting his study and where most of his poems have been written, and at last I bade him a reluctant good-bye and started for the station, where I took the train, had to wait over at Newburyport an hour and a half and arrived in Boston about six went to the Termont [Tremont] House had dinner and went alone to the Globe Theatre to see Lawrence Barrett in “Hernani.” After going home I wrote a letter to Louie and then retired after asking the bell-boy to waken me early for I was going to Plymouth.

21 January 1886 • Thursday

<Wednes. January 21st. Thursday>

I rose had a bite to eat paid my bill and was off directly to the depot and in a few minutes we were steaming along rapidly towards the City of the Pilgrims. We arrived about half past ten and I took a carriage and [p. 123] {p. 117} drove out to the Monument. I walked all around it and read as much of the inscription as I could <with> in the light that shone upon it, ’twas a miserable day and the wind was fierce, but I went on purpose to see and therefore I had to put up with all the disagreeable things, from the monument I went to Pilgrim Hall, the town itself is old and quaint and antique, and the great gnarled that have stood there for more than a century <like monarchial sentinels> were about as interesting as anything I could have seen they shrieked and moaned in the wind and seemed telling the tales of the Pilgrim fathers and mothers. The Curator at the museum gave me a piece of Plymouth Rock and took great pains to explain to me many of the relics and curiosities. I went at noon and took dinner at the Plymouth Rock House, it faces the sea just where the rock originally stood and where it now lies enclosed and covered with a rock arch & iron railing to preserve it from tourists [p. 124] {p. 118} who were in the habit of taking away specimens. After dinner I walked round, tho’ the day was fearfully cold and the wind very raw. I went down on the beach and out upon a kind of landing that stretched away into the ocean, the narrow strip of land that runs up into that sea lies all along in front of there some distance out and is a very fashionable drive in summer I was told, and it must be very beautiful I should judge. I went to the old houses and graveyard where the oldest settlers are buried and saw the old slate grave stones that it is said were all imported from England, just like my great grandfathers and grandmothers etc now all broken slivered and defaced. more interesting things if seen in any kind of reasonable weather, but so damp and wet and cold now, how very melancholy. One thing my coachman and guide knew all the places well, but he was very troublesome in giving his information, and one could not have a moment for reflection and [p. 125] {p. 119} at a time like that, the heart is so much called out that you want to ponder on the things you see more than to talk about them. I left in time to catch a train for Palmer from Boston where my brother met me with his buggy and we drove home together it was raining by that time, but I was soon safe in doors and the room so cosy and supper ready and all so glad to see me. Two letters were waiting for me one from Pallas and one from home, Dessie [Martha Deseret Wells Read]22 is dangerously ill. I suppose it is her confinement, and such gloomy apprehensions and fore bodings came with it. One cannot help anxiety however full of faith one may be when sickness comes and we are from home.

22 January 1886 • Friday

Friday Jan. 22. This morning had a sweet letter from Louie enclosing one from my husband23 and both contained good news, except about Dessie’s illness. I went to Westfield in the afternoon train to see Sarah Stacy, Jacob Stacy’s [p. 126] {p. 120} daughter who married a Warner. She was not the girl I thought and I found afterwards that the name of the one we knew was Julia instead of Sarah. She could give me no information about James [Harris]. I knew much more even than she did. I recalled so many touching incidents and referred though briefly to so many sad things that it quite unnerved me and almost made me ill. When one remembers how innocent and trusting and confiding one has been at fifteen, and that ere two years have passed away there has come a total wreck of all those fondly cherished hopes, those bright prospects, and only broken promises and heart aches with ruined health and confidence lost remains, <&> one has survived all this to revive the recollections and meet those cognizant of the circumstances is indeed bitter and painful. Such was my case on that day, but I endured it and tried to be brave, I left Westfield by the special train, came on to Springfield where I found I had some considerable time to wait. Therefore I took [p. 127] {p. 121} a carriage and drove out to West Springfield grave-yard to try and find the grave of my brother James [Woodward]. My intention was to see the Sexton as I knew his wife24 was in Brooklyn and the house rented to strangers indeed the two houses, one had formerly been his paint Shop but since his death his wife had made improvements inside and now rents it, both are nice places I am told and bring her a good rent and as she has no children one boy and one girl dying in infancy she is comfortable from the rents of the houses. I could not find the Sexton, so gave up searching as the snow was coming down so fast it almost blinded me, & I ordered the coachman to take me back and try to find Mr. Dickinson, <a sexton & an undertaker the one who published the book> in Springfield proper. He was in Boston but we succeeded in catching another one of the same name at a Merchant. Took the train for Palmer and my brother not meeting me I engaged a sleigh from the <livery> stable there, where they knew my brother [p. 128] {p. 122} well to take me over to Thorndike, telling him where I wanted to go and to whose house. Instead of doing so he drove to what is called Three Rivers and afterwards to a place called Bondsville, I thinking he had only taken a sort of circuitous route did not say anything as I know well boys do not like to be dictated to or directed when driving. I became very nervous as he passed through one long piece of woods after another, and I saw he was anxious to hurry as he whipped his poor horse and we only seemed to be going round and round. I said to him “you mustn’t abuse the poor horse,” he said “its such a long way,” I said when my brother drove over to Thorndike with me it seemed only a short distance. By this time his stupidity began to wear off I presume and he said “To Thorndike why did n’t you tell me you wanted to go to Thorndike,” I informed him that I had told him that but he insisted that I had not and as I was totally at his mercy, and in an out of [p. 129] {p. 123} country place remote from help of any kind I was very careful not to arouse his anger. I began to be seriously alarmed and to feel as though I must jump from the sleigh, but where should I go I knew no one there were no houses save now and then a farm house away from the road side and the snow was deep. My heart beat hard and my breath quickened. I wondered if he had brought me out of the way to rob me, and a thousand stories of robberies and even murders came rushing into my mind and I felt such a terrible presentiment of some evil, that I could scarcely keep from crying out, he whipped his horse unmercifully & I said O don’t do that, he is doing all he can he said we are many miles out of the way and I must get back, and then I ventured to ask him if we were now upon the road to Thorndike, He was very disagreeable but replied, yes if we could ever reach there, we did at last, and when I saw my brother’s house I jumped out almost without [p. 130] {p. 124} the horse stopping and told the driver to wait. I had suppressed my feelings until I was almost in hysterics. I began to cry the minute I opened the door, and my brother went out to the driver and expostulated with him, while I sat crying and sobbing hysterically in the hall. He insisted to my brother that I had not told him where I wanted to go, and that he did not know, but in that case he should have asked. It was all put on, he had been drunk there is no doubt in my mind and the horse had pretty nearly taken its own direction at first. My not knowing the route, he could easily deceive me and so we had wandered about until his senses came back and he found himself out of his latitude and began to think his master would call him to an account. I was glad enough to escape unhurt & unmolested and determined not to be caught in such a way again. I did not regain my usual equanimity that night but trembled like a frightened bird [p. 131] {p. 125} all night long.

23 January 1886 • Saturday

Saturday Jan. 23. Took an early morning train and went to a village called Gilbertsville <in South Hardwick> where I hired a conveyance and went to the old Town of Hardwick, it was a terrible cold day and I could see little that looked familiar though I knew the place so well forty years ago. We drove to the store, kept still by the same owner who had continued there all those years. It was the same store where I had once or twice gone on small errands for my sister.25 He knew both her and her husband26 very well indeed I inquired for the Town House and the Old Unitarian Church the Town House was there but changed, and there was now no High School as in former days. <where I had attended,> He gave me <I bought> a purse to take to my sister and he put his card inside it for her to see. He told me I had better go and see Mrs. Ridelle27 I did so and she was quite pleased as [p. 132] {p. 126} also her husband. She still corresponds with my sister, she is a very thin and tall person with a sort of shyness about her and a husband of whom she seemed to be ashamed. She spoke quite lovingly of my sister Pallas & said they used to be together in the same place of business at Oakham, how all those old names came back to me, each as it was first mentioned again after so many years never hearing the name, calling up a certain train of thoughts and ideas.

The old Unitarian Church had been rebuilt and was now Universalist scarce a new house was on the hill. The great common where the children used to play was still the same. I went to the House my sister left when she started out West and where she had lived many years where Louis and Frankie & <Carrie> Katie and Leslie were born,28 it was an old house when they took it, but they remodeled it and fitted it up with many new improvements, painting papering etc. I went through the whole of it, [p. 133] {p. 127} the one used in Lucy’s time as a parlor, the sitting room the spacious dining rooms and bedrooms down stairs pantries kitchen & closets, shed and out houses etc. the chambers and halls above and below all still in use an aged couple residing there with a son who was more or less insane. They too had once known my sister in her palmy days, she had been considered a great beauty in her young married life, and yet her husband had wavered in his constancy for her and made a great wide gulf between them because of his inconstancy and manifesting an unlawful affection for her cousin, but he sleeps the last sleep in the old graveyard in Hardwick with a stately monument telling his heroic death in maintaining his position in the time of danger at the head of his Battery and Mass. is proud to acknowledge his able services in the hour of [p. 134] {p. 128} danger, his wife still lives bereft of husband and children all save one,29 and long ago bereft of his loving attention, but the one to whom he was ever more cruel died of a broken heart because of his mistaken passion when she found that even his separation from his wife did nothing about a marriage between them. What tragedies <are enacted> in every day that are never put into books, or into any tangible form only engraven on the tablets of the hearts of those who have felt the keen anguish of the real acts. Next we drove to the village of the Old Furnace where my sister had spent her first wedded months her honey moon and where Katie [Lucy Catherine Granger] her eldest daughter was born and where I had gone first to live with her and had passed a delightful summer going to school and playing with or without companions indeed it seemed to me it was a dream of happiness. I knew no care and did not realize in the least the troubles that [p. 135] {p. 129} going on in the great busy world all around me. The people in that simple country village seemed to me to be perfectly contented with their lot in life and the children were free as the summer air, the weather itself never seemed in the least gloomy and as I look back upon it now after many long years I can but wonder how innocent I must have been. I knew no sin, no evil, my only longing was to see my mother, and I used to play in the garret alone, day after day when school hours were over and amuse myself, and often my sister would come and listen to my conversation with my scholars as I termed the beams in the wooden building. Once my mother came to visit us and brought the new baby,30 such a beauty he was in short <long> clothes and sunny curls he was born in April and this was September. she came in a carriage & all the younger children with her and brought a great fruitcake [p. 136] {p. 130} she had made and baked in a milk pan. It was just like a wedding cake and I think now it was the very best cake that ever was made. She stayed such a short time only one night and we had a nice time but felt very sorrowful when she went away again, but I was soon to go home and so I did not mourn so very much, but my sister cried a great deal, for she knew what must happen before she would see her mother again, but I in blissful ignorance knew nothing of all this and therefore my heart was light and gay. The summer waned into Autumn and I went home to my mother and little Katie was born meanwhile on the 18th of December and after all was over and my sister had moved into a new house prepared for her at New Braintree and the baby was about six weeks old I was sent for to come back and I went in a great lumbering old-fashioned stage coach alone with my little hair trunk. All these things [p. 137] {p. 131} “came between me and the light” on that wintry day when I revisited the Old Furnace and so much more full of pathos and sentiment but time will not permit me to “tell it all.” Suffice it to say I went to the same old house it was rather new then however and went into the garret where I had so often played in the long ago, and my eyes filled with tears in spite of all my efforts to keep them back One end of it had been finished off into a comfortable bedroom, but the remainder was in tact, the stairs had been moved and when I said to the lady who kindly showed me through, I thought the stairs were here, she said yes they were once and showed me the place where the floor had been filled in over what was the old stairway. I was pleased to think my memory had been correct but of all the people that had lived in the village then not one remained [p. 138] {p. 132} <there still> not even one, that this good woman could tell me of. It was indeed strange but new people had come in and it was railroad station now instead of a quiet country village.

From there we drove on to New Braintree, to the house where my sister had left me when she moved back to Hardwick for although she came to New Braintree to a new home and expecting to remain, some unforeseen circumstances had caused her husband to change his views and she had moved back with him to Hardwick Centre. I was attending a high school there and she felt it would be doing me a great wrong to take me away, so she left me with a friend of hers and in the care of a most wise and prudent woman. The house in which she left me was just one <of the kind> calculated to inspire in a romantic and poetical nature like mine, a sentiment of the most enthusiastic character and indeed it did for naturally queer, eccentric and emotional here I flourished31 [p. 139] {p. 133} like a plant in its native soil without cultivation or attention. Mrs. Reed Barr32 kept boarders and her husband was a cripple and therefore she had no time to control or manage a wayward little girl, she looked upon me as a sort of notional or whimsical child who always wanted to do out of the way things, and thought I needed wholesome discipline such as getting up early and taking cold baths and going up to bed in the dark all of which I most emphatically objected to which quite astonished her. I used to creep into the long attics under the caves and pick out old newspapers and letters and manuscripts and feed my imagination on all this outlandish sort of thing until I became so wild <in my creative imaginations> that I dwelt as ’twere <as if> in another sphere. After going through every part of this old fashioned house that was really one of the prominent features in memory to me, and sitting on the wide window seats in the parlor [p. 140] {p. 134} where on many a summer day who we had sat and drank in the perfume of the flowers, we drove farther up town, but O how dead a quiet stillness brooded over all the place the hotel and town-house were burnt and that made the place look bare and forsaken in that hotel a part of the second story that high school had been taught, but it was all gone, we went back almost as we came and dined at the gambrel roofed brick house not with Mrs. Reed Barr but the present tenants. I sat on the low window seats in the same parlor where I had sat when a little girl dreaming those wild and fanciful dreams of future promise held out to me by the good angels of my destiny. After we had dined and the horse had been fed we went on our way going through the center of the town of New Braintree and passing the old orthodox Church where we had often sat in the high backed strait laced pews with ideas as narrow <concerning religion> as, the people who worship there now still hold. We went round to the Granger farm [p. 141] {p. 135} in Hardwick to see one of the Granger girls now married to [blank] and the proud and happy mother of a family of six children a wonderful family for that State in the present period of time. Then my coachman took me next to the Railway Station and then after impatiently waiting for one hour and a half the train came along. The depot was swarming with factory girls going home for Sunday, and I noticed how tired many of them looked and how large a proportion were Irish. Arriving at Thorndike I think Charlie came to the station to meet me and we passed quite a pleasant evening at my brother’s explaining to the children the old fashions and customs that are now done away and telling them of the queer old places I had visited, the deserted farms and neglected places <noticed> on my way among the hills, and how changed everything was from the long ago. [p. 142] {p. 136}

24 January 1886 • Sunday

Sunday Jan. 24. This day marks two anniversaries in our family. One is Will [William Wood]’s birthday which will of course be kept, the other Sidney [W. Sear]’s which the mother33 will never forget. My brother who is indeed a most exemplary man and Christian went to Church, his wife stayed at home and so did I not caring to encounter again the arrogance and insult of the minister’s wife. Wrote some on my editorial and some letters home. New England subject. It snowed some my brother had a pine knot fire made in the grate and we all sat round to enjoy the warmth and beauty of the flickering flames. Hiram staid at home from evening meeting as he expected me to go away so soon.

25 January 1886 • Monday

Monday Jan. 25. Set off early for North hampton. Granger went with me to Palmer. It was snowing and very disagreeable indeed. I visited the Insane Asylum however which is a very grand place with five hundred crazy people in it & saw my cousin Miss Jessie [A.] Rand [p. 143] {p. 137} She is an old maid just this side of 40. likes her position and thinks everything most charming around the building bought a picture of the House. It was the place my brother34 was taken for treatment but the Doctor in charge then has now resigned and there is a new Superintendent. After being there and seeing & hearing I returned by train to Springfield and took a carriage in order to try and find my brother’s grave, but we could not find the Sexton and the storm was so severe I could not think of searching through the grave-yard and therefore very reluctantly turned back and tried to find Mr. Dickinson he had gone to Boston but found another cousin of the Dickinson’s a merchant. I then went on to Thorndike, tired half to death with a lame back so I could scarcely move and arrived to find my brother and his family as quietly seated in the back parlor as though there was not an iota of trouble in the world [p. 144] {p. 138} This was to be my last evening and I was not feeling at all well, but did my best to be sociable and agreeable. Went to bed rather late but feeling I should go in the morning

26 January 1886 • Tuesday

Tuesday Jan. 26. It is little Sep [Septimus Whitney Sears]’s birthday and at home there is sure to be something going on. Left by the early train my brother with me who accompanied me to Springfield, where I had to take my leave of him perhaps forever. Thus we say good-bye not knowing when or where we shall meet again.

It was sadder to part with him than the others, but it was the inevitable. After he left me and the train moved out of Springfield, I felt my very sober and indeed solemn. The day was growing fine and we crowded on and on the busy road until at last we reached Hartford [Connecticut] where I stopped to look up Ruth [Woolley] Haskell. I took a carriage and drove to her residence and had lunch and chatted and then visited the [p. 145] {p. 139} State House walked through the great galleries and saw its paintings and curiosities and librarry. Then drove down to the Train and started for New York. Arrived about six and in a rain went to the Hotel.

27 January 1886 • Wednesday

The next day <Jan. 27. Wednesday> went out in the rain storm to do some business and called upon Mr. [William C.] Hendrie at his office. Left in a pouring rain at nine o’clock and came towards Washington [DC] arrived early in the morning of Thursday Jan. 28.

28 January 1886 • Thursday

the weather was a little unpleasant went over to see Mr. [John T.] Caine and report myself to him, the first thing he said to me in regard to doing anything here was to see Miss [Rose E.] Cleveland35 the very thing I came for.36 I saw Mr. Holden yesterday in New York and also J. [James] K. Hamilton Wilcox who gave me very much advice & a letter to the Presidents private Secretary <Col. Daniel Lamont.> The first thing after I came [p. 146] {p. 140} to the Riggs house I saw Miss [Susan B.] Anthony she greeted me warmly and invited me to her room. I called on Mrs. [Lura McNall] Orms at [Belva Bennett] Lockwoods also at the residence of Marilla [Young] Ricker found she was not at home. Spent the evening at <Delegate> Caine’s. Charles Nibley & John Irvine were both there, and I there first learned of Dessie’s death. It quite shocked me, and made me very gloomy indeed. So sad it brought forcibly to my mind the remarks made by Dessie when she came to see me after Emmie death,37 when she so regretted that she had not made herself more intimately acquainted with her, but they were in earlier life so wide apart in feeling and interests, now they can have the opportunity of more intimate association and no doubt will enjoy each other’s society as they never did while on earth though sisters and members of one family. Br. Caine immediately expressed a desire that I should see the Presidents sister Miss Rose Elizabeth Cleveland. [p. 147] {p. 141} which was really the very pith of the errand upon which I had come to the Capital. I also learned for the first time of the death of Ex Mayor Wm. Jennings which will certainly be a great loss to the community on account of his business transactions & his heavy interests in many of the institutions which are a source of profit and industrial enterprise.

29 January 1886 • Friday

Friday Jan. 29. 1886. Early in the morning Mrs. [Margaret Nightingale] Caine came and invited me to go and have a Turkish Bath and as I had always thought I would like to go and had never had sufficient courage to go alone I was very willing to accept. [p. 148] {p. 142}

Lines on the death of a dear Mother

My Mother; Oh! My mother: not

two short years ago

We pressed our lips together, and

breathed a sad adieu;

Oh! long shall I remember the

sorrow that I felt

When you pressed me to your bosom

and like a child you wept.

My sisters too and brothers you <I>

kissed, and bade farewell,

Then turned to thee my mother

but my lips refused to tell

The words I would have spoken,–

They trembled on my tongue,

I bowed my head and murmured

“Thy will not mine be done.”

Our parting it was painful, and

many were our tears

as we thought of separation

for long and future years, [p. 201] {p. 143}

But hope, sweet hope was with us

and kept us from despair,

It pointed to a world above and

said “you’ll all meet there.”

And mother so we parted, to the far

West you did go,

But little did I think so soon to

read this tale of woe;

It says that thou hast suffered

with fever on they [thy] brain

That chills and dreadful burnings

did to rack thy form with pain

And that death came like an angel,

to relieve thy soul from pain

And thy spirit born away, back

to its God again.

All this I’ve read with anguish, Oh!

but let me not rebel

But help me O my mother to say

thy will be done ’tis well,

The earth is covered o’er thee, I shall

see thee here no more, [p. 202] {p. 144}

But I trust and hope to meet thee

upon that blissful shore

We cannot long be parted, though

drear life’s night may be

Beyond the grave dear mother, Ah, there

I’ll meet with thee.

Thou art living still my mother

methinks I see thee now,

Looking down from heaven

upon me with high and shining <brow,>

With many dear ones round thee

and holy angels too,–

Why do I weep dear mother, I

soon shall be with you.

Hardwick, Mass. L. M. [Lucy M. Woodward] Granger

184738 [p. 203] {p. 145}

To my dear Niece Neva Thorndike Mass

January 23, 1886

For thee the fates propitious seem to smile

Thy life has open’d with a tender grace

O, keep thy heart from vanity & guile

And let no evil passion leave a trace

However slight upon thy fair young brow

But cherish well the blessings of thy youth

Adorn thy soul so pure and stainless now

With wisdom knowledge charity & truth [p. 205] {p. 146}

Sometimes as published in the “Chamber Of Peace” is said to have been written by Mrs. May [Mary] Riley Smith [p. 210] {p. 147}

Wm. S.<mith> Clark born in 3d of July 1812, in New Salem, Mass.

married in New Salem 5th of March 1839.

Pallas Eliza Clark born in Petersham Mass. June 21st 1819. daughter of–

Isadore Pallas [Clark] 2d of April 1840 died 2d. of April 1847. born in Hardwick

William Servetus [Servetus William Clark] in Athol

born 26th of April 1844.

lives now in Duluth Minn,

near <on> Lake Superior Lottie Moore

Ar[blank] married 4th January 1874

Judson Smith [Clark] born 19th April 1884–

James Arthur [Clark] born 14, May 1854 born in Wendell

married in June 13, 1880 Carrie Louisa Wood

Hattie Pallas [Clark] born 4th July 1881

Frank Arthur Woodward [Clark] born 6th of Feb. 1883. [p. 212] {p. 148}

Lillian Dora [Clark] born in Wendell 30 of September 59.

Horace Hartwell Ramsey 25th of June 1859 Orange

married in Orange 29th of Feb. 1880

Camilla Ruth [Ramsey] born 20th of January 1884 [p. 213] {p. 149}

Cordelia Marian [Woodward] born in Dec. 8, 1824 in Petersham Mass.

married in June 3rd 4th of June, 1839. in Burnk Vernon Vt.39

Samuel Oscar Hinckley born in New Salem Dec. 24, 1840

Rossetta Adeline [Hinckley] born in May 24. 1843, Hardwick Mass.

died in New Salem Sept. 3. 1844

Ellen Maria [Hinckley] born in Hartford Conn. 2d. February 1847.

William <James> Edward [Fuller] born in 2d. August. 1853. Hartford

Charles Francis [Fuller] Dec. 27. 18524 died Jan. 5. 1855–

Williams Marsh [Fuller] Jan. 14 4. 1858– born in Hartford Conn– [p. 215] {p. 150}

Robert – [blank] [Fuller] born the <6> 7th of Jan. 1866–40

Leaving Phillipston take the train at S. Royalston change at Baldwinville go to Templeton

Williamsville Colebrook

Barre Pharis

Old Furnace– Hardwick

Gilbertville Ware41 [p. 216] {p. 151}

Cite this page

January 1886, The Diaries of Emmeline B. Wells, accessed July 12, 2024