Julia Ward Howe Part 52

"_March 5._ In bed all day."

"_March 6._ On the lounge; able to work."

"_March 8._ Day of mid-year conference of A.A.W. Business meeting at the N.E.W.C., where I, of course, could not be present. Afternoon meeting was in my room. On the whole satisfactory."

_To Laura_

241 BEACON STREET,

March 18, 1882.

Whereupon, my dearest, let there be no further pribbles and prabbles, which I conjugate thus: I pribble, thou prabblest, he, she, or it pribble prabbles. Maud leaveth on a Tuesday, come thou on that same Tuesday, taking care to keep thy nose in front of thy countenance, and not otherwisely, which were neither wisely nor too well. I hope thou wilt not fail to come on Tuesday. And pray don't forget the baby, as the nurse might find it lonesome to be here without her. During the period of thy visit, I will change my name to _Jinkins_, we will have such high Jinks!... Beacon Street looks as though it wanted something. I think thou beest it....

Am ever thy lame game MOTHER.

"_March 24._ Longfellow died at about 3.30 P.M. to-day. He will be much and deservedly lamented. The last of dear Chev's old set, the Five of Clubs, nicknamed by Mary Dwight the 'Mutual Admiration Society.' On hearing of this event, I put off my reception for the Zuni chiefs, which should have been on Monday, when the funeral will probably take place."

"_March 26._ Dear Brother Sam came on very unexpectedly to attend the funeral service held at the Longfellow [house] for relatives and intimates. I also was bidden to this, but thought it impossible for me to go, lame as I am. Sent word out to Julia Anagnos, who came in, and went in my place with Uncle Sam. The dear old fellow dined with us. I got downstairs with great difficulty and fatigue. We had a delightful evening with him, but he would go back to New York by the night train."

"_March 30._ To-day the Zuni chiefs and Mr. Cushing, their interpreter and adopted son, came to luncheon at 1.45. There were twelve Indian chiefs in full Indian dress. Reception afterwards."

The Zuni Indians live in Arizona. Once in the year they make a pilgrimage to the seash.o.r.e, and wading into the ocean at sunrise, offer prayer to the Great Spirit, and fill their vessels of woven gra.s.s with water to be used through the year in their religious exercises. This pilgrimage had always been made to the Pacific; but in the hearts of the tribe lingered a tradition that once in a hundred years the "Water of Sunrise" should be visited, and they dreamed of the Eastern ocean. The tradition was now confirmed, the dream fulfilled, through the friendly offices of Mr. Cushing.

The ceremony was one of touching interest; hundreds of people gathered at City Point to watch it. Most of the spectators felt the beauty and solemnity of the service (for such it was), but a few were inclined to jeer, till they were sternly rebuked by Phillips Brooks.

As our mother could not go to see the Zunis, they must come to see her, and Mr. Cushing gladly brought them. They were grave, stalwart men, with a beautiful dignity of carriage and demeanor. A picture not to be forgotten is that of her in her white dress, bending eagerly forward to listen while the chiefs, sitting in a circle on the floor, told stories, Mr. Cushing interpreting for her benefit. At parting, each man took her hand, and raised it to his forehead with a gesture of perfect grace. The eldest chief, before this salute, held her hand a moment, and blew across the palm, east and west. "Daughter," he said, "our paths have crossed here. May yours be bright hereafter!"

"_April 1._ To-day Edward [Everett] Hale brought me a parting memento of the Zunis--the basket with which they had dipped up the water from the 'ocean of sunrise.' Mr. Cushing sent this. E. E. H. also spoke about five hymns which should be written corresponding to the five great hymns of the Catholic ma.s.s. He asked me to write one of these and I promised to try."

"_April 16._ Splint off to-day. Waited for Dr. Beach, so could not go to church. Had an interesting talk with the Doctor on the Immortality of the Soul, in which he is a believer."

"_April 27._ Made to-day a good start in writing about Margaret Fuller.

This night at 8.50 P.M. died Ralph Waldo Emerson, _i.e._, all of him that could die. I think of him as a father gone--father of so much beauty, of so much modern thought."

"_May 7._ To church, going out for the first time without a crutch, using only my cane.

"J. F. C.'s sermon was about Emerson, and was very interesting and delicately appreciative. I think that he exaggerated Emerson's solid and practical effect in the promotion of modern liberalism. The change was in the air and was to come. It was in many minds quite independently of Mr. Emerson. He was the foremost literary man of his day in America, philosopher, poet, reformer, all in one. But he did not make his age, which was an age of great men and of great things."

"_May 14._ Had a sudden thought in church of a minister preaching in a pulpit and a fiend waiting to carry him off to h.e.l.l. Made some verses out of this.

"This is Whitsunday.... I do hope and pray for a fresh outpouring this year. While I listened to Dr. Furness, two points grew clear to me: one was, that I would hold my Peace Meeting, if I should hold it alone, as a priest sometimes serves his ma.s.s. The second was, that I could preach from the text: 'As ye have borne the image of the earthy, so shall ye bear the image of the heavenly,' and this sermon I think I could preach to the prisoners, as I once tried to do years ago when dear Chev found the idea so intolerable that I had to give it up. I am twenty years older now, and the Woman Ministry is a recognized fact.

"Still Sunday afternoon. I am now full of courage for this week's heavy work."

"_May 30._ Alas! alas! dear Professor Rogers dropped dead to-day after some exercise at the Inst.i.tute of Technology. How he had helped me in the Town and Country Club! Without his aid and that of his wife, I doubt whether I could have started it at all: he was always vice-president as I was president. I cannot think how I can do without him."

"_July 22._ Commemoration of Mr. Emerson at Concord Town Hall. Several portraits of him and very effective floral decorations; no music. Prayer by Rev. Dr. Holland; introductory remarks by F. B. Sanborn in which he quoted a good part of a poem by W. E. Channing, R. W. E. its theme. Then came an unmercifully long paper by Dr. X., much of which was interesting and some of which was irrelevant. He insisted upon Mr. Emerson's having been an evolutionist, and unfolded a good deal of his own tablecloth along with the mortuary napkin."

"_July 29._ Had a studious and quiet day. Was in good time for the performance [at the Casino]...."

In a letter to "Uncle Sam" she speaks of "the labor and fatigue of preparing for the theatricals, which are happily over. We had rehearsals every day last week. My part was a short one, but I took great pains to make it as good as I could. Some points which I thought of on the spur of the moment added greatly to the fun of the impersonation. We had a fine house, and an enthusiastic reception. I had a floral tribute--only think of it!--a basket of beautiful roses...."

"_September 18._ Left Newport to attend Saratoga Convention, being appointed a delegate from the Channing Memorial Church, with its pastor, Reverend C. W. Wendte."

"_November 8._ Cousin Nancy Greene, my father's cousin, enters to-day upon her ninety-ninth year. I called to see her, going first to town to buy her some little gift.... Had a very interesting talk with her. She was nicely dressed in black, with a fresh cap and lilac ribbon, and a little silk handkerchief. For her this was quite an unusual toilette. I wished her a good year to come, but she said: 'Why should I want to live another year? I can do nothing.' I suggested that she should dictate her reminiscences to the girl who waits upon her and who writes, she says, a good hand."

"_November 11._ I went to see the old Seventh Day Baptist Church, now occupied by the Newport Historical Society, in which my great-grandfather, Governor Samuel Ward, used to attend service...."

"_December 24, Boston._ Spoke at the Home for Intemperate Women at 6 P.M. I did my best. Text: 'Of whom the whole family in heaven and earth are named.' Subject: The Christian family; G.o.d, its father, all mankind brothers and sisters.... Afterwards went to the Christmas 'Messiah.'

Felt more sure than ever that no music so beautiful as this has ever been written."

CHAPTER IV

241 BEACON STREET: THE NEW ORLEANS EXPOSITION

1883-1885; _aet._ 64-66

The full outpouring of power that stops at no frontier, But follows _I would_ with _I can_, and _I can_ with _I do it_!

J. W. H.

The winter of 1882-83 found her once more with a family of some size, her son and his wife joining forces with her at 241 Beacon Street. In Harry's college days, mother and son had made much music together; now the old music books were unearthed, and the house resounded with the melodies of Rossini and Handel. It was a gay household, with Crawford living in the reception room on the ground floor; play was the order of the evening, as work was of the day.

The new inmates brought new friends to the circle, men of science, the colleagues of her beloved "Bunko," now Professor Howe of the Inst.i.tute of Technology, Italians, and other Europeans introduced by Crawford.

There was need of these new friends, for old ones were growing fewer.

Side by side in the Journal with the mention of this one or that comes more and more frequently the record of the pa.s.sing of some dear companion on life's journey. Those who were left of the great band that made New England glorious in the nineteenth century held closely to each other, and the bond between them had a touching significance. Across the street lived Oliver Wendell Holmes; in Cambridge was Thomas Wentworth Higginson; in Dorchester, Edward Everett Hale.

In a letter to her brother she speaks of "the constant 'tear and trot'

of my Boston life, in which I try to make all ends meet, domestic, social, artistic, and reformatory, and go about, I sometimes think, like a poor spider who spins no web.... Marion has been very industrious, and is full of good work and of cheer. His book ["Mr. Isaacs"] has been such a success as to give him at once a recognized position, of which the best feature, economically, is that it enables him to command adequate and congenial employment at fairly remunerative prices...."

_To Laura_

MY DARLING CHILD,--

Your letter makes me say that I don't know anything, whether I have written or not, or ought to write, or not. Mammy's poor old head is very much worse than ever, and I don't get time even to read letters, some days. I can't tell why, except that there are many points and people to be reached, in one way and another, and I rush hither and thither, accomplishing, I fear, very little, but stirring many stews with my own spoon. It seems to me that I could not bear another winter of this stress and strain, which is difficult to a.n.a.lyze or account for, as "she needn't have done it, you know." Why she must do it, notwithstanding, is hard to tell, or what it is in doing it which so exhausts all nervous energy and muscular strength. Now, darling, after this prelude in a minor key, let me thank heaven that, after all, I am well in health, and comfortable.

_Wednesday, 10th, 2.20_ P.M. I wrote the above at noon, yesterday, expecting Salvini to lunch.... Mrs. Appleton came in, and kept me, until 2 minus 20 minutes, at which time, nearly beside myself with anxiety, I tumbled upstairs, out of one garment and into another. Such was my dressing. Salvini came and was charming. After luncheon came a reception. Your little girls were there, looking delightfully. Porter was pleased to say that the little ones, hanging around the (old) grandmother made a pleasing picture.... No more from 'fection

MAR.