Blackwell Family Alice Stone Blackwell Kitty Barry June-Nov. 1881[*Private*] [*Rock House, {H?????] [*June 29 1881] I was expecting your long letter of June 14 - for I had read between the lines of your various post cards certain indications which made me anxious to receive fuller accounts from you. I hope that you will be able to get Alice away into the midst of the ocean, away from all her cares and disappointments and "Love" scrapes - and then you will be really able to enter into communion with her, for you have not yet really seen her - but have courage and the time will come I trust when she will emerge from what I have no doubt is a most bitter rooting up of her life. - a life in which a dangerous influence has mingled. I hasten to answer the two important queries in your letter. 1st I should be delighted to receive and do everything in our power for Gracie. If they will entrust her to us for a couple of years, I will gladly undertake to pay all her expenses in England and fit her for whatever career talents and [*Remember about poor Alice, that she is unfortunate in Love where it is mostly undesirable she should be. This is her misfortune and you must have great patience and not be disappointed for I can see all the signs of this misfortune and absence in the*] [*Let Ellen have any manuscript to consider as soon as you can.*] [* Only thing which will gradually restore the true of her mind so injured by unfortunate surroundings. You cannot force her confidence, nor*] inclinations would lead her to pursue, either art decorator, florist, or superintendent of a hospital refuge for animals - We would study her talents and enable her to find out for herself. So you have my fullest sanction to make any offer your own excellent judgement may sanction. I entirely endorse whatever plan you think best I heartily sanction it, and commission you to bring Grace over. It would be a determining point in keeping us at Roster House, which would be a much suitable home for her. I am delighted too with the suggestion of the school books on italian history - you would write it con amore - you should have all the books necessary & for ? a trip into Italy. I should have some nice little maps - engravings, plenty of anecdotes [bring a quicker return of the old out flowing confidence by any way you can do. I give ones worth and meanwhile make long stay with others, and leave a time to recharge herself gradually. ] and I believe you could make a most popular school book. So tell Harry I am charmed with the plan, and will do all in my power to promote it if he will do all that he can too. I am very glad you are going to Maria. There you will be sure of a deep hearty welcome and a restful friendly companionship. I shall watch for each account with deep interest By the bye I fear you have suffered from toothache. If so would it not be well to see Dr Kidder at once. You know expense is nothing to me com pared with your comfort. And now I must tell you dear about my busy fortnight in London particularly the last week which was intensely interesting. Of course I heard the foreign delegates speaking in the Conferences, but it was only at the evening soirees that I got a chance of talking with them. Mme Venturi gave a soiree last Friday which I went with Mrs. Browne. It was a pleasant old fashioned house at Chelsea. I had some talk with Ernest Nathan - he is older & much larger than his brother Giuseppe, but not nearly so interesting nor I should think so good - he is rather a heavy man. Even [??] I had I owe conversation with, bright, determined clear headed but rather to political I think. I [bring a quicker return of the old out flowing confidence by any way you can do. I give ones worth and meanwhile make long stay with others, and leave a time to recharge herself gradually. ] [*bring a quick return of the old outflowing confidence by anything you can do. [?] must work and meanwhile make long stay with others, and leave A time to repose herself gradually*]liked Desmoulien better. He is a little like Mr Lhoen in appearance - very gentle and appreciates the moral side of the question fully. A Rev; Mr Appia spoke extremely well in English as did Mrs Pierson of Holland - Appia is french protestant, I liked him so much a thin little elderly gray haired man but full of fire and high feeling. The rev Mr Pierson is stirring Holland. He is a large strong man with a comic vein in him, and very eloquent. I talked a good deal with Mrs Lina Morgenstern who works diligently in Berlin, for she dined at Frances Flaggaus when I was there - small active an incessant talker, getting through an immense amount of work - but occupied with all sorts of benevolent works german wise rather than battling for principles. I liked the Countess Saillanne Schack very much, she seemed ladylike gentle & intelligent. Both our evening entertainments were very pleasant and well attended and I quite enjoyed being amongst friends again The public meeting at St. James' Hall was really a fine success - for the great hall was crowded with a thoroughly enthusiastic audience, and when an amendment approving the CDA was moved and seconded, only one other person voted for it - Virgi a boy of 14 who held up both his hands / - But I wont fill my paper with outside matters - or rather I have only little room to end [*much love, Dear child - hold your own - stay in America [with &?] the little boys return [strange?] if that is necessary and make every [effort?] with it who love of have you with thee*] July 20, 1881. My dear Kitty:- I got here safely Monday afternoon. Jenny Larned, an old friend & class-mate of Phebe's arrived by the same train, & Mr. Beerman met us at the station & took us both home. I think Woodstock is the prettiest village I ever saw. It is surrounded by beautiful hills, & a river runs through it. The streets are lined with trees, mostly maples & great elms; but I know at least one row of pines. The houses are remarkably pretty & clean looking, & the number of small brick houses is unusual. A brick house with green shutters & with vines trained over it is [*have the ocean & me. I suppose I must go to Aunicsquam for the first two weeks of August at any rate. If I like it, I may stay a week longer. After that I can go either to Yardner or M. V. After that "Whither thou*] a pleasant sight. The parsonage is a small white house with a good sized garden. Mr. B. says the garden is bigger than he wishes it was. He found it full of weeds, but has cleared most of them out. They form quite a little mountain out behind the barn. The baby, young Leonard Bowman, is a comely youngster, with fair hair, blue eyes, and an honest rosy countenance. Phebe and Mr. Beeman seem as happy as ever. He is a good fellow, and if all Methodist ministers treated their wives as he does, Mother would not have much reason to pity said wives. The alacrity with which he raises his ponderous weight from the sofa when he hears her bustling about in the next room, & goes out to ask if he can be of any assistance, is edifying. He fried the steak for her the night of our arrival, helped stir the beans for breakfast the next morning, & this A.M. I found him superintending the cooking stove while she dressed the baby. Their parishioners are very friendly, the church a neat white one, & they like the place very well. Their handmaid, little Josie Sampson, has been unfortunately taken sick with something which is supposed to be either measles or mock-measles.; and this is a little inconvenient. But Miss Larned & I help with the work, & we get on [*goest, etc. I hope you are having a good time, but should think you would find Ware rather slow. What a [Silo?] it is! I believe if she were put on a rock in the midst of the Arctic Ocean, she would raise up seals & walruses & such like to be sentimental to her. I must run out and pick some currants before it begins to rain. Had an exasperating letter from Mr. Black before*][**] I left Cambridge. It was chiefly about Herbert Spencer, and I produced something the same effect as Mr. Savage's article. I am going to give it to that youth. [**] [**] Shall probably go home Wednesday or Thursday next. Affy, A. S. Blackwell[**] pretty well. Aunt Elizabeth's letter is enraging. I should like to break the heads of the doctors. It would be better, I suppose, if one could break their hearts. Mrs. Livermore has a long and strong article about the Federation on the first page of last week's Journal, I see; and I'm glad of it. Get her fully charged, and she is a big gun. Now, as to Annisquam. I want you to do just precisely what you will enjoy most, and I am not sure but you would find it pleasanter at Gardner, in comfortable quarters and with friends, than in a crowded cottage where the accommodations are probably primitive, and where you would be with comparative strangers. On the other hand, at Annisquam you would Locust Lodge, Annisquam, Mass. Aug. 15, 1881. Dear Kitty: - I meant to have a good long letter ready for you, and there is plenty to tell. But the time before going to the P.O. is short - 25 minutes - and I must send a scrap, with a promise of more to follow soon. Ah! we have had adventures by flood and field! The bill of fare for the next letter will be an account of the candypull, and of a disastrous picnic excursion which we took the day after, and which resulted in the temporary disabling of some of our most active members. It is too long a tale for a half-sheet of paper. Yesterday morning, Eliza Putnam and I betook ourselves to some pine woods, spread cloaks over the pine-needles, and reclined [**] the scattered arms and legs flying through the air to rejoin their proper owners. That made her laugh, but this man talked about total depravity and the authority of the church over the individual [**] against a rock. There I read her two of Dr. Clarke's sermons, and she read me some poetry. Then we came home and ate some lunch, mine consisting chiefly of the yolks of three raw eggs mixed with a lot of sugar and eaten on bread. Said eggs had been broken for an omelet that morning, and the omelette (now I've spelt it both ways and you can take your choice) had been brought to a sudden stoppage by the discovery that there was no milk in the house. Then Eliza and I walked over to Bay View to church. It is a Methodist Church, and a minister from N.H. preached for the regular minister, and riled Eliza's righteous soul unspeakably. She will get a very bad idea of the Methodists, for this is the second Methodist sermon she ever heard. The first was about the Day of Judgment, and gave a graphic description of all [**] in a way very irritating to the unorthodox mind. Her wrath boiled over on the way home, to my great delight. Goodbye in haste, A.S.B. [**]**about it to you, if she favored it. More soon. Affy, A.S.B.** Lydia Dame was here that day, & the plan was that we should all go over to Coffin's Beach & eat our supper there. Cadge, & Lill Price, & little Eliza, went out in one boat in the afternoon, & didn't reap- pear when it was time to start; so the rest of us set out without them. We left Emma Durfee putting up the supper, & went down to the shore, where we met our truants just landing. We told them to go up to the house & get Emma Durfee & the supper, & re-embark for Coffin's beach, to which we at once betook ourselves. We went up on the sandhills, & looked hungrily toward the other shore. Their boat was still lying at the pier, & to our dismay, it continued to lie there till darkness began to gather over the landscape & our inner man became clamorous. Eliza Putnam & Miss Dame started out across the sandflats, now left bare by the retreating tide, in order to get as near as possible to the other shore & see what the matter was. Emma Atkinson & I started for our own boat, fearing it might be afloat; for we hadn't tied it, & the tide had reached its lowest ebb & was beginning to rise again. Sure enough, the boat was all afloat; & we couldn't wade in after it, as we were neither of us in a state in which we ought to wet our feet. *Drawing with words flats, Coffin's B., Rocks, bar, water, pier, lighthouse, Annisgram*So we started to scramble out over the rocks by which it lay. I went first, & soon got my feet so wet that a little more or less didn't matter; so I sent Emma back (for there was no need of two getting wet) & suc- ceeded in getting hold of the rope & towing our craft to shore. I walked on the rocks, & towed it along by the rope. The other girls had come down to the shore meanwhile, & reported no signs of the other boat; & poor Eliza had tumbled into a pool, & was wet above her knees. It was growing dark, & the wind blew, & we were empty & wet & exasperated. Luckily, I had brought along a couple of sand- wiches; but they were not much among five voracious girls. As we were pushing off from shore, preparing to go home & give a proper scolding to our re- creant comrades, a boat appear- ed from the gloom & hailed us. We shot a volley of objurgations at it, clamorously demanding our supper, &c &c. Sudden silence fell upon us when we disco- vered that it was rowed by a man! However, Emma Dur- fee sat in it also, & handed the lunch basket across to us. It was clutched so eagerly that the contents came near being spilled in the devouring deep. She informed us that Cadge's hands were blistered & Lill was sick, so that they couldn't come. Then both boats started for Squam. The wind was a- gainst us, the water so rough we were in danger of upsetting, & Eliza had to row with all her might to keep us off the bar. She couldn't stop to eatthough the rest partook and were strengthened. We got aground twice, once on the sand and once on a rock; and the rowing was very hard, for the tide had only risen a little, and the water was so shallow the oars touched bottom at each stroke. We had to keep near shore because it was so rough farther out. Finally Eliza landed us, all but Emma Atkinson, at a pier, and they (the two E's) took the boat around to its own landing, while we walked home. There we learned that Cadge and Lill that afternoon had got aground on a sand bank and had walked round and round their boat in the water for ten minutes, trying to get her off, and had finally had to be helped off by a man. Lill was not in a condition to wet her feet, and reached home sick enough, and as weak as a rat, while Cadge's hands were a sight to see with blisters. So of course they couldn't row over to Coffin's Beach. But I think they ought to have confided their disabled condition to us when they saw us starting off supperless. Well, Lill's feet were put into mustard and water, and Cadge and Emma Durfee set out to find a man to row one of them over with our supper. One went one way and one another. Cadge secured a man and was bringing him along, when she came face to face with Emma leading another man. How they settled it I don't know, but one of them rowed Emma over; and he had a bad time rowing back, too, and came nearer to getting on the bar than we did. By and by the two E's arrived, with a tale of fresh disaster. Eliza had reached the landing and thrown her hat on the pier; and while she was securing the boat, a gust of wind took the hat into the water. Emma, who was still in the boat, couldn't reach it with an oar, and it went sailing up the river. Emma gave chase, but the hat could float in shallower water than the boat, and so had an advantage over her; and she got among the eel-grass, and there was a great time. Finally she secured the hat, but it was a perfect scarecrow. The welting didn't seem to hurt me any, and Lill is recovered; but Eliza still feels the effects. I must close in great haste for Office of The Woman's Journal, Alice Dorchester, Aug. 24 1881 Dear Aunt Sarah: Not knowing where my mother will be tomorrow, and thinking she may possibly be in Gardner, I sent a hasty scrawl thither. If she is with you, please tell her that my health seems to go on improving, and there is no return of summer complaint. Miss Wilde comes out at night, and all goes smoothly. I have got the story and poetry ready for next week, and have been picking out stories and poetry ahead, and calculating the number of "sticks", and feel quiteeditorial. There has come a note from Maria Mitchell about some observatory, but it does not seem to require any haste. Tell Mamma not to hurry home, as we are getting on well, & want her to get well rested. She is too valuable to be allowed to wear herself out. We were almost out of sugar, & have bought ten pounds, also a bit of soup meat & some steak. I have put the bookcases in order, & hope she will approve of the affect. There is no particular news. Please remember me to all the family, especially Emma. You see this is really a note to my mother, undercover to you. Tell Mamma I'm try to acquit myself as a good & faithful stewardess. Yours in haste, Alice S. Blackwellto Alice "Pic" Somerville, N.J. Oct 10th 1881 My Dear Pic: I hope this will reach you in time for the dress. Arrived her today-found Aunt N. just going off to N.Y. on her way to Louisville, Ky. Edith and all greeted me most warmly. I like Ethel greatly. My first impression is that Edith will make a better M.D. than 9 out of 10 who study. Her manner is pleasant, and a certain reserve is desirable in an M.D. I remained in N.Y. to help Aunt Ey about those children who, as the house had only the care-taker Mrs. Edwards to do work and the two Aunts were house-hunting at Orange really needed an eye to look after them. Aunt Ey saidit as such a "relief" to think of me as in the house. You see Aunt Ey has hospital, practice, & College, besides the settling the family on her hands. Poor Aunt Ey! She has a handful. It is such a helpless handful too! The contrast between Ethel & those there is remarkable. They are always looked after are very babyish in most things, whilst Ethel is a determined, independent little woman--and really helpful about the house. How dear, could you have anyone else with you while Mamma is away? Mind I hold myself bound to come to you, since if I return here again but I only saw Aunt N. for an hour (half that dinner), and she wants me to be here on her return from Louisville. Of course, after planning to carry off G. for two years I must learn from Aunt N. and Uncle S. their ideas as to G.'s studies, health, &c &c. Let me know if you can arrange. Edith goes Wednesday to Swarthmore. So I shall have but a peep at her--I am gladof even that. Aunts E & E complain of Edith being uncommunicative--I always find her friendly, very affection, & disposed to answer one's questions fully. I think their way of approaching her must be alarming to her. In great haste. With lost of love to you all, affy, K.B. N&N.&S. call me now K.B. or C.K.---Aunt Ey thinks she has secured a house at Orange, near Mrs. Hassey's. She had qualms last night at 9:30 as to whether Aunt El wd be able to manage servants, & children out there. Keep them in decent order I mean5 Park St. Boston, Mass. Oct. 14, 1881. My dear Kitty: We are very glad to hear such a good report of Ethel; Mamma seemed especially pleased. Now, as to your coming up here when Mamma & Papa are gone. There will be no difficulty about getting someone to come and stay with me, though of course I would rather have you than anyone I can get. Also, we wrote to Emma yesterday, inviting her to come with the chil- dren & stay, & visit with you & me both at once. But that can be easily **right hand" to an imaginary metaphysics class. It was very funny. Miss Putnam is a little better, & her mother has joined her, & her lover is coming to visit her on Sunday. The ride into town with me yesterday did mother some good****as it is, I must rely on entreaty & persuasion. Miss Wilde & I shall have one, & possibly two, numbers of the paper to get out; & we are very anxious to make them good. We think if mother is once con- vinced that we can get out the paper all right while she is away, she will feel able to take a short vaca- tion now & then. At any rate, it** distress. She isn't cross, but gentle--looks at everything with a sort of "farewell" in- terest - at least, so it seems to me- & talks of the next world. I'd a deal rather she would blow us all up. Don't say anything about this where it could by any possibility come back to her. I hope she will be better when the meeting is over. My liver has returned to its allegiance, but I don't dare to eat sugar, which is a deprivation as regards peaches. Saw Prof. Bowne coming across the Common the other day, laying down the law with his "red will be a weight off her mind. Now, we shall be able to get plenty of cuttings to from other papers, but original articles will be scarce. You can write well, as we know from your letters; & you know all sorts of interesting things about the condition of women in Eng- land & in the countries where you have travelled. The story of Mrs. Tubbs' election would be very interesting. Also, I want a good article on the C.D.A.--a sketch of the rise, growth & success of the opposition to it. There are constant attempts to introduce it over here, & I'm told they have lately succeeded in doing so in New Orleans. All the newspapers ought to howl; & Mamma is quite willing that the **P.S. Thanks for writing out about the dress. It came just too late, so I'm sorry you had the trouble of doing it.**Journal should give a howl on the subject every now & then. You are posted, & can give a good howl. I am very desirous indeed that you should do it, & you can't find a single reasonable ob- jection. Please do, Kitty! You don't know how anxious I am to have you, or how worried I feel to have those two numbers of the Journal good ones. Besides the C.D.A., I want another article about something appropriate--anything in connection with women which you have observed on the Continent or in England. The articles needn't be long, you know; I'd rather they shouldn't. Though you are **welcome to expand, especially on the C.D.A. Remem- ber us to everybody. In much haste, affy, A.S. Blackwell.**OFFICE OF The Woman's Journal No. 5 Park Street. Boston, Oct. 20 1881 My dear Kitty:-- What particular item of your "fate" is it that you are so anxious to know? About coming here? Miss Wilde & [Lucy Wheel] Hattie Turner are going to stay with me, so you can accept Mrs. Underhill's invitation if you think best. I want you to do just what you prefer--just what will give you the best time. Of course, the more time you can spend at Harri- son Square the better for me. I am only sorry that we are such a worried and preoccu- pied household here as to [be] **Tell how you cut across thro' that wretched street in Paris; & how you bought "La Misere" of a walking scarecrow. Those circulars have temporarily used up my eyes, & I must stop. Remember me to Flo & all the rest. With much love, Alice.have been unable to give you so pleasant a time as we should have wished. Papa & Mamma go tomorrow night, & we are up to our ears in business. I have been di- recting circulars like a steam engine today, & must do so like two steam engines tomorrow. I have seven-- no, nine books & two pamphlets to notice, & Miss W. & I have to edit the Journal the next two weeks. So I suppose we could not have visited together much while the folks were gone, even if you had been able to come-- which softens my disappoint- ment a good deal. As for the Journal, you really must write me something. Write what you know about Louise Michel. I'm going to reprint what Littell said about her, & should like to add something. OFFICE OF The Woman's Journal No. 5 Park Street. Boston, Nov. 3, 1881 My dear Kitty: What a mixed up and generally horrid piece of busi- ness! Poor Flo! Of course I won't write to her; I should want to punch the head of anyone who wrote friendly commonplaces to me under such circumstances. I feel just as you do about the com- parative merits of Washburne & Elliott. Elliott seems infinitely likelier to make a woman happy. Then he is a strong man, & Washburne, unless I greatly mistake, is a weak one: And Florence, with her poor health, [ought to have a] **last letter contained. Remember that I'm aching to know how it turns out. Goodbye. Affy, A.S. Blackwell. P.S. Oh! one piece of news-- I have interviewed Mr. Savage, & came.****away laden with spoils i.e. with his new book on The Religion of Evolution, which he had presented to me!** needs a husband who can carry her--not one whom she will have to carry. It would be very hard on Elliott if Flo were to throw him over; poor fellow, he seems to be the only one who knows his own mind tho- roughly in the matter. He is worth two of W. I firmly be- lieve. My one fear is that poor Flo loves W. And if so, of course she ought not to marry one man when she loves another. That would not be fair either to her- self or to Elliott. But I do hope it won't turn out so. When the news of W's engagement reached her she was excited & angry, but declared she had not en- gaged herself to Elliott till she had come to "see though" W. Her anger seemed to be merely pique, & very natural pique OFFICE OF THE WOMAN'S JOURNAL, No. 5 PARK STREET. Boston, 188 too, considering how short a time before he had been saying & writing sweet things to her. I suppose the matter is decid- ed before this, & I hope decid- ed in Elliott's favor. I am very glad indeed you were there when W's letter came. It was very hard for Flo, and a sympathizing friend & sensible adviser must have been invaluable. Keep me informed, I beg of you. No need to notify me to stand by Floy--I've stood by her through all her scrapes, & she will tell you so herself. My folks haven't come home yet--are expected tomorrow or next day. Theywill be amazed, but shall be warned not to write. Poor Flo! It is tough. I wish Mr. W. were married to some bouncing girl with temper enough to make him stand a little in awe of her & gumption enough to "put him through" for the rest of his life. The distinguished French visitors were here yesterday, & the air rang with the Marseillaise. I like a brass band, & horses, & uniform. makes one feel martial without endangering one's life & limbs- gives one "the blessed heroism without the cursed danger," as poor Gustavus says in a play I once read. There seems to be nothing much to tell, especially after such exciting news as your