Blackwell Family Antoinette Blackwell 1846 - 1847 Blackwell, Lucy S.Antoinette Brown to Lucy Stone. Oberlin, 1847 ? Dearest Lucy ......You think I have come back to Oberlin upon dishonorable terms? Then you don't know me. I never did a dishonorable public set that could make me blush to look anybody in the face, never! I came back here just upon no terms at all. They refused to receive me in the Institution. I came back to study Theology and get knowledge. I do get it; they don't interfere. I am not responsible for their [this] conduct or decisions. I have nothing to do with them, but I am bound to put myself into the most favorable position for improvement possible while the day for improvement lasts; and when I go out to work I shall work in the fields where I think I can do most good. And what if they or anybody else think I act unwisely, or dishonorably, or foolishly, what can that be to me? I respect their advice but I do not abide by their decisions. Why should I? I never spite myself for their errors, and I would scorn myself for resenting injustice done me, for there is no time to spare for such things. If I had money and health doubtless. I should have applied to other institutions, but I had neither, and no time to spare in regaining them. So I believe I acted wisely, and if they respect me any the less it is because they don't understand me, else it were the more shame for them. .... Please, dear Lucy, don't lecture me about the folly or danger of my course, or rather do lecture me, for it can do no harm and may do much good. I like to have you speak what you think. If you did not do it, with our great difference [in] of views, I should think we had ceased to be true friends. .... NettieAntoinette Brown to Lucy Stone: Oberlin. Dear Lucy: If you were here now in this pleasant little room in the old boarding hall, I believe I should sit down and cry for joy. I am in the same room that I occupied at the time I came from home with the artificials in my bonnet, and you came in and cried over me for sorrow. Dear, dear L., I love you better for those tears than I should have done without them, & I have no artificials in my bonnet now; but am just as much determined as ever to think them pretty, & may perhaps wear them again sometime - but not to tease you, though.Oct 5th 46 "My own dear sister" Here I am in Rochester, fairly settled for the writer in a land of strangers. And where are you to night dear Lucy. Let me see. Yes! there you are, sitting in the old armed chair, happy & alone, no not alone either, for here I am, peeping over your shoulder into the Presidents Philosophy which lies open before you on the table. But you are not studying ma cherie amie, what are you thinking about. If you would only look up I could read it in your face. How natural it does look here. If you would only look up shut the window Lucy, it would be much better, for you will certainly get cold, now it is October Now come with me to my home. There are three young ladies all studying by the table, two boys with books in their hands, & your friend Net, with pen in hand, but stopping to explain a problem in algebra to one of her studious pupils. Mr & Mrs. Harris are sitting near conversing on the various topics of the day, & all together it is an excellent place to practice practice doing three things at once. We have a pleasant sitting room, you see. Now come into my own room. There is a stand bowl & pitcher, one chair, & a strip of carpet spread down in front of the bed. This room is occupied by myself & an interesting girl about 16. It will seem like a very small room to you, at first, but you will soon get accustomed to it, Look out of the window, & see what a fine prospect. The Clinton river winds gently & slowly along in the valley, just below the window. This beautiful stream with its green banks, & picturesk islands, is enough to compensate one for the want of many other conveniences. When I am sad or lonely, I sit here & gaze out upon the beautiful scene, till myheart grows better and happyer. They are sometimes cheering moments and how I do wish my dear sister Lucy was here, to share every thought and feeling, I think of you then Lucy, and I think of home - while a thousand strange thoughts, plans, anticipations, and emotions crowd around till my heart aches and my brain becomes almost giddy. But the low murmuring of that river, has power to sooth again till every thought is tranquil as its own pure water. Now dear sis, would you like a description of Mr and Mrs Harris "mine host and hostess". Mr Harris is a lawyer, a graduate from Dartsmouth, and a right dour Presbyterian Whig, who believes there is nothing new under the sun, except the new folly of man in chasing the [?] futures of strange doctrines. Mrs. Harris has been for several years a teacher in Virginia. She says she is opposed to slavery, but if she were at Oberlin she should feel like telling the colored people to stand behind her back, while she sat at table. You may think I have little sympathy for them & little opportunity for thinking myself, & yet thoughts will come, and bitter thoughts sometimes, & sometimes full of hope, but all buried up to gether in my own soul. My boarding place is so far from the school, I am going to leave here soon, and if possible get a room to myself. We have now about 80 scholars, have no boarding house, almost every family has several boarders, & we are expecting many more. Mr. Moyers is an excellent teacher. He has a fine mind, vastly superior to what that letter would indicate. He is deservedly popular, is exactly adapted to the place, "off hand & little pollished." I have all the small children in my room, but have some very large classes, & frequently exchange with Mr. Moyers. My children are all good, & pleasant, they are about 12 years old, & about 20 in number. It is an interesting class but it is rather hard work to keep them still, & sometimes I wish they were all mesmerized. Mr. Moyers improves upon acquaintance, likewise in womans rights, & tells me to act indipendently to give as many lectures as I please to the young ladies & to the whole school, upon any Saturday, & next time I am going to make them a regular speech. Have a bible class on the sabbath, & talk to the young ladies once every week, or lecture as Miss Adams call it on all sorts of things. So you see it is a good place for improvement. It is something new & the girls like it. So do I, but after all so far as the school is concerned, I have not the least ambition. God never made me for a school teacher. Mr. Moyers is very much unwell, is tired of teaching also, & I verily believe we shall both give it up & go home, before the winter term commences. Don't tell of that Lucy, it is not at all probable, & I only think so when I am homesick. One of the young men, a student, assists also in teaching. We have no French class yet, & one of the young ladies in the village had a drawing class before I came. The location of the village is perfectly delightful. In every direction it is hemmed in by green hills, Paint break & Clinton rivers, both pass through the village, & unite a little distance below. The buildings are all small, there is a distillery, two taverns, two church one Congregation, one Christian, or rather a partnership church for all denominations. Our minister moved into the place last week, preached very passably last sabbath, seems a good man. His name is Parks, & he has been an Evangelist. We have a number of stores, mills, shops, & [?] Mr. Harris is just managing a lawsuit. His office is near the house & the men are all around considerably excited, & talking loud. One of them has just come out with the news, the juryhave given a verdict "no cause for action". So here are the charges & all for nothing. There is a great contrast between this place & Oberlin. Very few of the people seen to be reformers, or to believe in improvements of any sort. Now Lucy you have every thing just as it is, & just as I feel. Write me in return as long a letter, & do please comence it the very day after you get this. I meant to have written you before but have scarcely a leisure moment, at least when I was not so tired, for teaching is new business & was very fatiguing at first. I am reading Scots Poetry, The Reformation, Paleys Theology, & the Presidents works, either as the mood suits. You know I did not anticipate much pleasure here, & considdering everything fair prospects are more than realised. Has H. Cook gone home. Has - but I will not ask questions, you must tell me everything. Now about the journey. At Cleavland went on board one boat, but not finding Mr Fairchild finally left & took the Boston, & went in company with Mr Safford to Detroyt, arived there early Thursday morning, had a delightful time, but no storm, left the city at nine - met Mr Fairchild in the cars, & went home with him. They told me there was no stage going out from the [Duk?], as I expected (a mistake by the way) & Mr F. invited me to Birmingham with them, promising to send me to Rochester the next day. I had a pleasant visit at his house tell Elisa she has got a good brother & sister at any rate. I have every reason to feel grateful to them. We arived at B. about 10och; took dinner at Mr Ingersols, [Lumans?] uncles, the next day went as far as Troy, & spent the night at a Mr Stones. Their daughter had been teaching at Birmingham & boarding at Mr F's. They were good Abolitionists, & had two children married after Angeline, & Sarah Grimka. I like all Stones pretty well & they were certainly very good ones. Arrived at Rochester Saturday morning & so here I am. The people all around are talking very happily but it is misery to talk of one thing, + think of something else. You cannot tell how bitter [*Aunt Nettie Oct. 5 1845 +*] Dear Lucy, Helen called last evening & left the little note you sent in her letter. Do not fear my getting married. I have neither opportunity nor inclination at present to take such an irredeemable step & have so little confidence in such a plan for either of us that I am glad to respond most hastily to your emphatic dont dont dont & send it back like an echo to your self. At the same time I am not prepared to regret as you do the enjoyment of Mercy Loyd. From what I know of her it seems to me she will do so much good in that relation as in any other & probably more. Certainly if she has a husband worthy of herself there is no reason why this should not be so. She would not lecture as you will or do any thing else which cannot be much better accomplished by the aid & sympathy of a husband. How glad I am that you are going to lecture for the Womans Rights Convention or Soc. rather. Helen forgot to bring her letter last evening so I have not seen it & don't know exactly what you are intending to do, when, how, &c. but I am so happy to think you will leave the antislavery field to the hundreds of others & labor for the elevation of women but do be careful & remember there are two extremes & one glorious [mine?]. Put your sandals from off your feet & walk highly for you will be treading on holy ground & yet walk fearlessly for the God of Moses will be there to instruct you in regard to that you must do. Lucy if we will only hear his voice he will surely teach us how to lead the people out from their eternal bondage but without his assistance, we can never effectually strike off the chains of prejudice ingorance & sin.The time is now nearly closed here & tho I shall commence examining various practice, questions, reading, studying, &c. I feel as though I had never improved as much in a whole year as during the last 3 months. We are learning to take in comprehensive views of things, to see their bearing & relations & to turn them over in all possible ways & look at them in various lights. Then such grand thoughts as we are having developed & the discipline of talking, discussing &c. I am in extacy half of the time, but after all this is a world of trials & I have plenty of them. Don't you. I do wish you had time & inclination to write me everything. Tell every thing about your neo society when you do commence lecturing with them Would they employ me & let me believe as I do. I expect to have to stand above - all alone in the world On what conditions, terms, &c. do you lecture & in what field Do do come to Ohio. If we could have a visit of only 2 hours it would make my heart a year younger than it is, & my head much better no doubt. Sarah has been doing to much this summer but begins to see her fault so she will probably improve Miss Blackly is married to Dr. Bradly Cox is engaged to Helen Cochran & he has gone home to spend the winter Write very soon wont you Your own sister Nette [* 111 Miss Lucy Stone*] [*At Oberlin 18-18*]Antoinette Brown to Lucy Stone, while Antoinette was at Oberlin: "Oh dear Lucy, I do wish we believed alike. I wish somebody believed as I do. And some people are beginning to believe so." Same to same, begun at Oberlin in 1848 & finished at Henrietta, N.Y. My heart has just been called back to the time when we used to sit with our arms around each other at the sunset hour and talk & talk of our friends & our homes & of ten thousand subjects of mutual interest, until both our hearts felt warmer & lighter for the pure communion of spirit. It will do my heart good to speak its feelings to you, & you will love me no less to feel that my love towards you is still unchanged. xx So, L., you are going to lecturing, are you. Well, you had better have told us so & not said 'Perhaps'. Success to the truth & to you, dearest Lucy, so far as you preach it, & in the right spirit. xx Be good, Lucy, be good, & don't be afraid of anybody, but speak as though you had a right to. Same to same, written from Oberlin near close of theological course: Dear Lucy: You think I have come back to Oberlin upon dishonorable terms. xx I believe I acted wisely, & if they respect my any the less it is because they don't understand me. else it were the more shame to them. xx "Actual contact with the world" will have its benefits, but I was not fitted to profit by it 3 years ago.Same to same, Aug. 4, 1852 So you are at home this summer, but preaching Sundays on Anti Slavery. Come out here, do, a little change will do you good. Of course I have no particular with that you should make our good Smithsonian Abolitionists over into Garrisonians, but if you can do this, why you may, & welcome. Before Florence was born, Lucy wrote to Antoinette: (this would be 1856?) Nettie dear: how much I wish I had you here, where, though it is very hot, yet a cool breeze blows through the room, & I am afraid you do not get it there, & you never needed it more. How do you do? With your new experiences & new hopes & fears? Don't feel obliged to answer one of these questions, only be sure, dear Nettie, that I sympathize with you & respect the moods, silent or otherwise, which these months will give. I am glad that you are so well. Don't blame yourself, Nettie, if you find that all the original sin seems to try & manifest itself in you for even Margaret Fuller, with all her strength & philosophy, says she was "never so unreasonable & desponding." Blame the circumstances, though maybe the Furies will not haunt you, as they often do the very best. I hope that everything will to pleasantly, & that another new year will find your heart made glad & warm & large by a mother'slove. For myself I almost despair (of having any children, this probably means A.S.B.) Will you give me one of your seven? I expect some new phases of life this summer, & shall try to get the honey from each moment. Yours with loving trust, Lucy. Susan B. Anthony to Antoinette, April 22, 1858: I am provoked at Lucy, just to think that she will attempt to speak in a course with such intellects as Brady, Curtis & Chafin, & then as her special preparation, take upon herself, in addition the baby cares, quite too absorbing for careful, close & continued intellectual effort, the entire work of her house. A woman who is, & must of necessity continue for the present at least, the representative woman, has no right to disqualify herself for such a representative occasion. I do feel that it is so foolish for her to put herself in the position of maid of all work & baby tender. What man would dream of going before the public on such an occasion as the one of two, night tired & worn from such a multitude of engrossing cares? It is not best to have too many irons in the fire at one time. Nettie, I don't really want to be a downright scolder, but I can't help looking after the marred sheep of the flock a wee bit.Same to same, May 2, 1858. Don't try to reduce great principles to details of every day life, as the sewing machine's turning - it isn't your forte - it's Mrs. Gage's & Lucy's. [Mrs. P] Antoinette to Miss Anthony: I wish we had the [cou] contemplated paper (newspaper) for her (Mrs. Hanton's) especial benefit these days. I am afraid it will be too late to accommodate her when we get it fairly established, which doesn't promise to be very soon. Lucy believes her talents lie in other directions & gives no approval to the plan for herself: but some day when the right time & people present themselves, we'll have the paper, won't we?Antoinette Brown to L S. Henrietta. March 18, 1848 Dearest Lucy: you do know that I love you a great deal, for I remember your telling me that I couldn't help it if I tried. This was partly true, in spite of my theory, yet it supports the theory after all. We believed no more things in common than any other of my classmates, perhaps not as many, yet I loved you more than all the rest together. ( she describes a revival meeting, and continues) I don't know whether you have any sympathy with these things or not, but, dear Lucy, if you had been lure sometimes you would have felt that it was good for true ? to meet together you would have felt too that the [chur?lus] were not all corrupt. Well, Lucy, we will not quarrel now after talking the matter over so often, will we? I wish we could see alike, but if we cannot, let us both believe, examine our beliefs candidly, then look forward to the time when we shall see "eye to eye".(Antoinette Brown to Lucy Stone) Oberlin, 1847(?) Dearest Lucy: - - - - You think I have come back to Oberlin upon dishonorable terms? Then you dont know me. I never did a dishonorable public act that could make me blush to look any body in the face, never! I came back here just upon no terms at all. They refused to receive me in the Institution. I came back to study Theology and get knowledge. I do get it; they don't interfere. I am not responsible for this conduct or decisions. I have nothing to do with them, but I am bound to put myself into the most favorable position for improvement possible while the day for improvement lasts; and where I go out to work I shall work in the field where I think I can do the most good. And what if they or anybody else think I act unwisely, or dishonorably, or foolishly, what can that be to me? I respect their advice, but I do not abide by their decisions. Why should I? I never spite myself for their errors, and I would scorn myself for resenting injustice done me, for there is no time to spare for such things. If I had money and health doubtless, I should have applied to other institutions, but I had neither, and no time to spare in regaining them. So I believe I acted wisely, and if they respect me any the less it is because they don't understand me, else it were the more shame for them. Please dear Lucy, don't lecture me about the folly or danger of my course, or rather do lecture me, for it can do no harm and may do much good. I like to have you speak what you think. If you did not do it, with our great difference of views, I should think we had ceased to be true friends. Nettie.(copy) Antoinette Brown to Lucy Stone, Rochester, Mich. 1847 Dear Lucy: You tell me you do not wish to become acquainted with a very good & amiable young lady because you are afraid you will learn to love her & then she will go away & leave you. Pardon me, dear Lucy, but you do need a severe rebuke. Why are you becoming so misanthropic? Do you think I feel more unhappy because I know that there are warm hearts somewhere in this bright & beautiful world, that would throb still more kindly to learn of my welfare? Have I cause you more sad than happy hours, & do you regret having known me? Far different has it been in my case, & heaven send me a score of friends! x x It is now vacation, & you have nothing to do but think I know you will forgive my frankness, but, dear Lucy, I do tremble for you. You feel almost alone at Oberlin, & your feelings are all pent up in your own soul. But your spirits are too buoyant to be always sad, & you cannot long cherish that feeling without a bittersweet mingled with it, a bitterness & a censoriousness arising from that very cause whichwe have so often lamented. Do pray the Lord to keep you from the snares of the adversary, who is ever eager to ensnare the aspiring soul. You may think my caution unnecessary, but there lies fearful danger for you & me too.