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LETTERS 
 
 OF 
 
 JAMES SAVAGE 
 
 TO HIS FAMILY 
 
 {PRIVATELY PRINTED) 
 
 BOSTON 
 1906 
 

 
PREFACE. 
 
 The letters, privately printed, in this little 
 volume, are thought to be of sufficient interest 
 to the family and friends of Mr. Savage, to merit 
 their preservation. 
 
 It may seem inconsistent that the first letter 
 should be one addressed to a stranger; but as 
 its date, two years after his graduation from 
 college, marks an unusual experience for a 
 young man, twenty-two years of age, I venture 
 to insert it. 
 
 In 1805, Mr. Savage's cousin, the late Frederic 
 Tudor, engaged him to accompany his elder 
 brother, William Tudor, to visit the principal 
 islands of the West Indies, for the purpose of 
 establishing the ice-trade there. 
 
 In the month of November they sailed for 
 Martinique, and soon after arriving there, Mr. 
 Savage was attacked with yellow fever. He 
 was, at the time, visiting Monseiur D'Aubifret, 
 a gentleman who had passed his youth in Boston. 
 
IV 
 
 It chanced that the governor of the island, 
 who had come to visit Madame Le Pagerie the 
 mother of the Empress Josephine, was invited, 
 with his physician who accompanied him, to 
 dine at the house of Mr. Savage's friend. 
 
 In the course of the dinner the kind host 
 stated that he had a young friend lying seriously 
 ill in the next room. The physician immediately 
 became interested in the case, and it was to 
 his skill that Mr. Savage owed his life. 
 
 While a guest of Monseiur D'Aubifret, Mr. 
 Savage received many kind attentions from 
 Madame Le Pagerie. 
 
 Emma Rogers. 
 
LETTERS OF JAMES SAVAGE 
 
LETTERS 
 
 OF 
 
 JAMES SAVAGE. 
 
 To Monsieur D'Aubifret, Trois Islets, 
 Island of Martinique. 
 
 Boston, Oct. i6, 1806. 
 To D'Aubifret. 
 
 I rejoice, my dear Sir, in this opportunity 
 for writing to you with a probability of the safe 
 arrival of my letter. To your excellent mother 
 and amiable cousin I send by Nicolas some 
 little keepsakes which a lady procured for me, 
 and so I hope they may be proper. I could 
 never give you and them a perfect testimonial 
 of my gratitude, and am willing to hope, that 
 the inhabitants at Trois Islets will not soon 
 forget me. I shall bless the day on which we 
 went down to your house, as often as I think 
 of it, and its remembrance will rise in my mind 
 with every reflection on my past life, which 
 you preserved. Since my letter in June my 
 Uncle Tudor with Madame and Madamoiselle* 
 
 ♦Afterwards Mrs. Commodore Stuart. 
 
have sailed for France, and we yesterday heard 
 of their arrival. How long they will remain 
 is uncertain. Delia is a fine, accomplished, 
 beautiful girl, and it is not impossible, that 
 some one of your countrymen may be con- 
 quered by her charms. Wm. Tudor who seems 
 destined to wander over the world, like Ulysses, 
 sailed in August for London. Besides the ex- 
 perience and sagacity, which his predecessor 
 acquired, I hope he will obtain property suf- 
 ficient to allow him some nest for the remainder 
 of his life. The youngling Harry Tudor is 
 immersed in science at Cambridge; while Fred., 
 le negotiant universal, is plotting against all 
 your West Indies schemes of freezing you all 
 as well as ourselves in the ensuing season. 
 Cuba and Jamaica as well as Martinique and 
 Barbadoes will certainly be cooled. O quel 
 fraicheur aimable! My sweet cousin Emma 
 Gardiner will stay, I fear, thro' the winter 
 down on their estate in the country one hun- 
 dred and fifty miles from those who most desire 
 to see her. I continue in the lazy study of law, 
 and shall be admitted in a few months to plead 
 in the secondary court. The great number of 
 gentlemen, which is between fifty and sixty, 
 almost discourages me, but I shall not be driven 
 
from my native city. The clergy have most 
 learning, the physicians most money, and the 
 lav^yers most honor in our country. Many of 
 your former friends have inquired respecting 
 you and your family. The number of French 
 people in our country is much less, than v^hen 
 you w^ere with us. But a few days ago I found 
 one in the country, a fugitive from the infernal 
 brigandage of St. Domingo, who, tho' he has 
 been in America fourteen years, is most de- 
 termined to go home and lay his bones in 
 France. I pray you, let me be remembered 
 by your friends D'Audifrede and his lady, 
 Madame Beaupont and others. I kiss the 
 hand of your mother and Madame Faure, 
 and wish to yourself every blessing which you 
 deserve, or which heaven can send. 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Boston, 6 Novr. i8i6. 
 
 To Mrs. Robert Hallowell Gardiner. 
 
 Dear Emma, — Your note did indeed find me 
 at Boston, and not the least remains of my 
 journey fever disturbing my quiet. Indeed I 
 was not so uneasy as you seemed to imagine, 
 
when you suggest that I should not inquire 
 for your key. I hope you received it at the 
 proper time, by return of the stage. I have 
 had a great press of business since my return, 
 which has not permitted me to see all your 
 friends. Lincoln spent Thursday evening with 
 us. His child is perfectly recovered, he says; 
 but his wife is not. I shall probably pass Sun- 
 day next there. Mr. Richard's two boys were 
 worth bringing from England, indeed. They 
 were very well, but the young lady's love 
 towards me has cooled surprisingly. At Mr. 
 Frothingham's I have not had leisure to call, 
 but left your letter the morning of my arrival. 
 That, wretched me! was not till Wednesday 
 ten o'clock. I had flattered myself with the 
 glorious hope of reaching my own bed on 
 Tuesday; but the stage was condemned by 
 the new arrangement to stop at Newburyport. 
 But I had not to ride in an open wagon, nor 
 get wet through. The evening of Thursday 
 after my return, I was employed to play the 
 important part of bridesman in the wedding 
 visit of my friend Alex. H. Everett, Esquire. 
 My compeer was Francis C. Gray. I can say 
 nothing more about fashionable engagements 
 but that this evening I go to a ball at Colo. 
 
Perkinses, though as the invitations run in the 
 name of the young ladies I conclude it is not to be 
 very crowded. 
 
 I saw over the fireplace at Gardiner a plan 
 on a single sheet of paper of the Institution 
 in England (London) for the Savings Banks, 
 officers' names, computations, &c. Though I 
 did not half read, I was much occupied with 
 the subject on my way up, and find it a very 
 desirable project to introduce here. Mr. 
 Vaughan authorized me to desire Mr. Gardi- 
 ner to send up that paper. If he has mislaid 
 it, perhaps Charles Vaughan, Mr. Merrick or 
 William Vaughan may have one. I desire to 
 have it sent by the first private opportunity, 
 and the blessings of the poor, or of those who 
 are prevented from being poor, shall remain 
 on him and 
 
 Your affectionate 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Mrs. Tudor told me last evening, she would 
 go to New Jersey next week. I always believe 
 people will go, after the event has verified a 
 promise. 
 
Boston, 20 August, 1818. 
 
 To Mrs. James Otis Lincoln. 
 
 Dear Madam, — To trace the beginning and 
 growth of the intimate friendship between your 
 late husband and myself will afford me so 
 much gratification, that I shall hope for your 
 indulgence in a few words, though to you, who 
 so perfectly witnessed the continuance of it, 
 such relation may be less interesting than to 
 be told how devoted I must be to cherish the 
 remembrance. My boyish acquaintance, be- 
 fore meeting him, had embraced but one per- 
 son, whose congenial temper would cause our 
 amusements and occupation to flow in the 
 same channel. The long intimacy with that 
 gentleman, the Revd. S. C. Thacher, had been 
 closed by untimely death only a few months 
 since. I have not seen many persons to whom 
 I should feel stronger attractions, on his own ac- 
 count, than Mr. Lincoln; but it was the assid- 
 uous kindness of his mother, the most useful 
 and affectionate friend that ever cared for me^ 
 which bound her children to me as brothers. 
 For many years she was indeed my mother, 
 and permitted me to use even that name in 
 addressing her. Her benevolence was com- 
 
9 
 
 prehensive enough to include many friends, 
 but towards me was always specially shown. 
 Being doubly an orphan, as my own mother 
 died one day after my brother Arthur was born, 
 and a father's protection had been some months 
 before providentially withdrawn from us for- 
 ever; to her I was perhaps more indebted than 
 most children to their natural parents. This 
 debt has ever been regarded as sacred, and 
 now seems much to have accumulated, as so 
 long unpaid. To your husband, in his younger 
 days, my aid and advice was always given, in 
 its humble measure, and at a riper age his 
 study of a profession was in connexion with 
 me. He has had many occasions of proving 
 his regard; and now that a more urgent op- 
 portunity demands it, nothing will be so sweet 
 to me as returning the obligation. 
 
 I may not presume, madam, to comprehend 
 fully the extent of your affliction, but it will not 
 be indelicate for me to urge that your duties 
 cannot be forgotten or postponed. Support 
 and comfort are needed by you, but heaven 
 can afford none, beside your own contempla- 
 tions, equal to the endearments arising from 
 the education of those representatives of your 
 husband. It may be happy that both are fe- 
 
lO 
 
 males, as a widowed mother should feel less 
 anxiety in bringing them up, than she must 
 unavoidably entertain for the more perilous 
 state of boys. They will imitate you more 
 closely, and to them may be more surely com- 
 municated your own softness. This consola- 
 tion may the God of the widow grant you. 
 
 Of business I spoke very little to you at 
 Hingham. But it is now necessary to enlarge. 
 Some person must administer upon the estate 
 of your husband. You are the most favoured 
 by the law, which gives to you or the next of 
 kin that trust as of course. If you undertake 
 it, every assistance in my power may be relied 
 on. Nor should you be deterred by fear that 
 your being unacquainted with business may 
 be an impediment. If however you desire it 
 I would unite with you in receiving the au- 
 thority from the Judge of Probate, or if it be 
 disagreeable for you to act at all, would under- 
 take the duty alone. You must not however 
 be anxious about making an immediate de- 
 termination, but may think ten or twelve days 
 upon it, and with Uncle Martin's* advice, form 
 a deliberate resolution. If you conclude to 
 
 *Son of Gen. Benjamin Lincoln and brother-in-law of Mary (Otis) 
 Lincoln. 
 
II 
 
 act, it becomes necessary for you to go to Scit- 
 uate next Monday fortnight, to enter on the 
 trust and give bonds. I would accompany 
 you. But be assured that no reason exists to 
 give you any uneasiness on your temporal con- 
 cerns for a moment. Begging you again, 
 madam, to communicate freely to me any 
 commands, whether they may to you seem im- 
 portant or trifling, which it will ever be my 
 highest pleasure to attend and fulfill, I remain, 
 with sincere esteem. 
 
 Yours devoted servant 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Mr. Savage made a voyage to Demerara in 
 1 8 19 in the interests of Mrs. Lincoln, in order 
 to establish her claims to a valuable estate there. 
 
 Demerary 2 August, 1819. 
 To Mrs. Lincoln. 
 
 Dear Madam, — To relate to a lady the par- 
 ticulars of our voyage would be little interesting, 
 for no variety could I tell of, more than that one 
 day we caught a boneta, another, a dolphin, a 
 third saw one vessel, a fourth, two. No storm 
 gave an incident, and long heart-sinking calm 
 
12 
 
 was not vexatious to me. We arrived last night, 
 but the vessel cannot yet come in, till the deeper 
 sea on the bar, perhaps two days. The Court 
 will commence a fortnight from to-morrow, 
 and, I hope, our cause will be heard during 
 the term. I am disposed, quite at home, at 
 Mr. Benjamin's, and this morning have called 
 on the Governour, but can hardly say any 
 thing more than that my health was never 
 better, and that its continuance is chiefly de- 
 sired that you and your children may receive 
 the service of your friend 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Demarary, 4 August, 1819. 
 
 Dear King, — I have no long directions now 
 to give you, and it would be rather late, if there 
 were any to be executed. Only tell Lem'l 
 Shaw that having had so long a passage out 
 here, only arrived Sunday evening i Aug. and 
 our ship not yet got into the river, so that I am 
 only half ashore, I may possibly not return to 
 Boston to attend October Court, and that I will 
 write him soon. 
 
 My health is very good. It is hot and wet, 
 to be sure, but hope will help me through alive, 
 
13 
 
 and two days have gone out of the sixty that I 
 was willing to devote here. Were I half dis- 
 sected, I should revive on getting on board a 
 vessel, bound within five hundred miles of 
 Boston. Bless all the house. I dreamt of 
 Alicia, when fifty days from Boston. Tell 
 Lee Calcutta may be worse than Demerary, 
 though for some hundred miles all ways there 
 is no land here a foot above high water mark, 
 and all the country is dammed and ditched 
 and diked and canalled, so that it must be moist 
 enough in a dry season, but now being the rainy, 
 is worse. Motley* ought to pity me, for my 
 last segar was spent on Saturday, and there is 
 no touch of tabaco del reyna known in this re- 
 gion. If I never return, let Mansonif be as- 
 sured, "I will speak some more funs." When 
 Rollins sees Helen Davis, he must not tell her 
 how many hours every evening her songs were 
 ringing in my ears, though my thoughts were 
 diametrically opposite to Lord Byron's, 
 
 And now I'm in the world alone 
 Upon the wide, wide sea. 
 
 * Father of historian. -j- Italian consul in Boston. 
 
14 
 
 Demerara, half past two p.m. 
 
 25 Nov. 1819. 
 To Mrs. Lincoln. 
 
 As the Court was not opened this morning, 
 my dear lady, till half past twelve, you may 
 presume, that I waited with some anxiety. 
 However, when it began, I felt none at all. The 
 counsel against us, stated historically the cir- 
 cumstances which had occasioned this suit, 
 and, after opening his venerable old law, Voet 
 ad Pandectas, referring to the lex tripartita, 
 and all the authorities about testaments, pro- 
 ceeded to read his evidence, and state his points. 
 The President caught at the matter of the cause 
 very quick, and remarked upon all the evi- 
 dence, as the counsel went along. On some 
 of the weak parts all the Court and spectators 
 smiled; and our Counsel was allowed only, 
 on explanation of rejection of a slight piece 
 of testimony, two minutes remarks. The Court 
 will perhaps soon form an opinion; and every 
 body congratulated me on the necessary one 
 that must follow. It was only half past one, 
 when another cause was taken up. I left the 
 Court house to communicate my felicitations 
 to you on the good appearances, but was de- 
 tained by Mr. Albuoy to read Mr. P. Benja- 
 
15 
 
 min's kind expressions for you and the chil- 
 dren. Them you must embrace for me till 
 evening. I go to dine at Mr. A's, and tomor- 
 row shall hope to have better news, and Wednes- 
 day best of all. But we may be deceived in 
 half the battle, and detained here to Christmas. 
 We may, indeed, lose the whole battle, but we 
 shall be able with Francis I. to say, we have 
 lost all but our honor. Ever yours 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Mr. Savage was married to Mrs. Lincoln in 
 April, 1823. 
 
 Summer of 1827. 
 Tuesday Evening. 
 To HIS Wife. 
 
 I left Cambridge after sundown, and found 
 the walk very warm. It was exceedingly pleas- 
 ant walking in the morning soon after eight. I 
 dined with the President in the corporation 
 room as last Saturday, and having finished our 
 duty soon after six, took tea at his house. My 
 walk in the morning was solitary, but on re- 
 turn was accompanied by my colleague, Frank 
 C. Gray, who walked out, as well as myself, 
 but half an hour later. The young men ap- 
 
i6 
 
 peared very well in general, and your nephew 
 George * was excelled only two or three in any 
 thing, and by them only in a very trifle. The 
 President is exceedingly pleased with him, 
 and talked much of his good manners and good 
 principles. 
 
 Since my return I find the packet did not 
 get up before dark, so that is probable Lucinda f 
 must go in the coach. I regret not being able 
 to send you the list of authors of the three Nos. 
 of the N. A. Rev. for which I wrote a note to 
 Mr. Hale this morning, and in my hurry for- 
 got to request the answer to be sent to the 
 house. J. s. 
 
 Monday Evening. 
 Aug. 4, 1828. 
 To HIS Wife. 
 
 There is nothing in the world for me, my 
 dear wife, to tell but that my brother John is 
 better, and his removal is postponed, perhaps 
 will be unnecessary. It would be quite grati- 
 fying to know what you are this moment en- 
 gaged in, because, as the children are now 
 fast asleep, all of them, you may find some time 
 
 * George S. Hillard. f Children's nurse. 
 
17 
 
 to write to me, if you are in the quiet of Dennys- 
 ville, and perhaps even returned by this hour, 
 it wants three minutes of ten, from any gay 
 society in the dissipated city of Eastport. With 
 the heat you can hardly be oppressed so late 
 in the season, for here it has been cool enough 
 the last eight days and in the nights 'twere 
 well to avoid having all the doors and windows 
 open, or else one must employ a coverlid. It 
 is very clear to me, that my health has im- 
 proved by this sleeping with free air so much, 
 for I have taken no cold by day or night, and 
 have slept much sounder. It has been in my 
 power too to work as much as I desired without 
 fatigue, and yet no relaxation has been taken, 
 but what has been faithfully told to you. On 
 Thursday next we propose to make an excur- 
 sion in the harbour, at least to look at Hospital 
 island, where our Committee of Aldermen for 
 the Quarantine may secure one chowder as 
 reward of their summer's work. Good night 
 my sweet Mrs. Governor Winthrop, and to- 
 morrow morning let me exult in having a let- 
 ter from yourself and good stories of the chil- 
 dren. 
 
i8 
 
 Tuesday, 5 Aug. 
 
 You deserve not, I fear, to have this letter 
 forwarded today, because I get nothing from 
 you of date later than three years, weeks I 
 mean, yesterday. But as I can give you some 
 very good news, I will not be so selfish as to 
 keep it back. Mr. Hillard this morning told 
 me, that yesterday afternoon he carried John 
 to a place in the shop of Mr. Felt, stationer 
 and bookseller. State street, which I believe 
 will be a capital chance for him, but he will 
 continue to attend his school a fortnight longer, 
 until the exhibition. Now be so kind as to 
 make me some amends, and if you ever desire 
 to get another letter from me, write, write, 
 write some yourself, least I cease to subscribe, 
 as the chief happiness of my life. 
 
 Your affectionate husband 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Saturday, 16 Augt., 1828. 
 To HIS Wife. 
 
 I have been so happy, my dear wife, all this 
 week, on account of receiving your delightful 
 letter of Sunday before last on the seventh day 
 after its date, that no complaint has yet been 
 
19 
 
 uttered of the non-arrival of the Packet, by 
 which further tidings will come of your wel- 
 fare, even though written only by the children. 
 The mother will put in some words, without 
 doubt, for they can hardly cover a whole sheet 
 by themselves. 
 
 You may see by the newspapers, what an 
 interesting time was passed at Salem on Wednes- 
 day in celebrating the completion of Dr. Hol- 
 yoke's hundredth year. Dr. Hayward was at 
 the dinner and carried his wife in the afternoon 
 to the old man's house. In the evening, she 
 engaged me to come to dinner next day, have 
 Harriet brought early, and go to ride to Mrs. 
 Hayward's at Newton. It was likely on Thurs- 
 day to be very warm, so Hannah * went soon 
 after breakfast, and made a stop at your sister's 
 on her return for the little one f to be shown 
 there and also to get a nap. She was attended 
 all the day by Hannah, and soon after four we 
 took our drive. It would take up more than 
 this sheet of paper to particularize all her ex- 
 pressions of delight on the road out and back, 
 but particularly at the parrot, the snow white 
 foreign doves and the peacock and her young. 
 We kept her to sleep in Emma's crib, and sent 
 
 * Nurse. -j- Harriet, second daughter. 
 
20 
 
 her home on Friday morning. Aunt Bowles 
 says she is the very picture of what you were 
 at her age. 
 
 Sunday. 
 
 George came home on Friday, much im- 
 proved in strength, in fine spirits and nearly 
 prepared for his commencement services. He 
 called twice to see me, once before I got home 
 to tea, and after I had gone out to see sister 
 Bruce. But on Saturday forenoon he sat some 
 time with me, and was with my club in the 
 evening. It is yet uncertain, how he will be 
 disposed of in the world next month. Mr. 
 Green would be very happy to take him to 
 the plains, but perhaps the slavery is too close 
 there for the compensation. It might be 
 much better at Taunton, if they have no suc- 
 cessor to the elegant little gentleman, who 
 married your cousin West. Capt Sargent ar- 
 rived yesterday before daylight, but not very 
 successful, in my apprehension, in his voyage, 
 for he was in such haste to get back, as to 
 leave all his outward cargo unsold. This day 
 fortnight I hope to be on the water proceeding 
 to the Eastward, but how near my happiness 
 at the end of the voyage is on many accounts 
 
21 
 
 uncertain, but by the next letter I shall be able 
 to give you some better approach to certainty. 
 The packet for this week is not yet arrived, 
 but there is now a Northerly wind, and I shall 
 confidently look for my letter tomorrow. The 
 weather has been very good lately, quite dry 
 for almost three weeks, and now quite as cool 
 as we desire. Today noon I have letters from 
 Demarary quite late 17 July. The advice 
 from London is favorable, and Mr. Benjamin 
 expects within three months to have all the 
 preparation made for giving security to the 
 English lender by the purchase of your estate 
 and to receive the first quarterly payment for 
 the great object of anxiety which has given 
 so much color to both our lives. With Ben* 
 I have since church this afternoon shaken 
 hands for good-bye. The Ticknors returned 
 last evening, and I shall go there, after brother 
 William's, this evening. The city begins to 
 fill with residents, and many strangers. You 
 must write to me, if it be very few words on 
 receipt of this, for you may need to remind me 
 of several trifles, and as the mail comes on 
 Thursday evening, I can perhaps get a letter 
 on Friday some hours before sailing. Sailing, 
 
 * Benjamin Lincoln, son of Judge Lincoln of Dennysville. 
 
22 
 
 sailing, what a delight it will be to me, to say 
 it is twelve weeks since my wife parted from 
 me, and we shall in all probability never again 
 be twelve weeks apart. 
 
 Monday. 
 
 To HIS Wife. 
 
 You shall not, my sweet wife, depreciate 
 yourself by saying how much better I was 
 than you should have been. Your letter found 
 this morning in the office, as mv expectation 
 of the Packet was just, is much better than I 
 expected. The dear children wrote (both) 
 very pleasantly. But Molly is rather too 
 speculative, when she doubts if I shall know 
 Emma, because she has grown so rude. Why, 
 that is only going back to her former state, 
 before she went to Miss Lamb,* and if the 
 Lion again lie down with the lamb, no doubt 
 she will be tamed. Our Hannah had quite 
 an adventure last evening. She was at Mrs. 
 Lucinda's,f who was gone with her Peter to 
 lecture, and the bell was then tolling, the baby 
 had been asleep but a minute or two, when an 
 ill-looking fellow, without a coat and having 
 
 * "A dame's school." 
 ■j- A former nurse in Mr. Savage's family. 
 
23 
 
 his shirt sleeves rolled up, Hannah probably 
 thought, in an alarming manner for Sunday 
 evening, expressed by his mode of advance an 
 intention of coming into the house. She ran 
 and fastened the door, screamed murder, and 
 no doubt frightened herself, though the sailor 
 advised her to the contrary. As he attempted 
 to get in at the kitchen v^indov^, she fastened 
 the parlor door, and cried murder louder, 
 and louder, but I am glad to say not quite 
 loud enough to weaken Harriet, but loud 
 enough to bring one of the neighbors to her 
 relief. So she v^ent up stairs, and took up 
 your baby, v^hich I am sorry for, as it w^aked 
 her and might have given her alarm. She 
 was carried in a blanket to the next house, 
 and the fellow, who had wantonly caused the 
 disturbance, having previously in his drunken 
 folly, alarmed somebody in the vicinity, was 
 after hiding, dragged out and committed to 
 confinement. Harriet was full of fun for two 
 hours after it, Hannah says. That I can 
 easily believe, for she looked in the morning, 
 when Ben and I went to pass an hour with her, 
 like the essence of good humor, pretty well 
 condensed, her cheeks and arms being as hard 
 almost as the children's India rubber ball. 
 
24 
 
 1 luivwas an alarm to otlici people than Han- 
 nah yostorday, hut at an earlier hour, while 
 we were at eluireh, in the afterncHMi. It seems 
 the tenants of the state prison, antieipating 
 with strcMig dislike the solitary sleep they must 
 scHMi have in their new apartments almost 
 prepared, instead of the aj^reeahle society of 
 six or sixteen in a room now enjoyed, had made 
 preparations for a fire to hurst out in the work- 
 shops while the whole pious congregation were 
 assemhled in their chapel. The confusion would 
 iiave heen a sweet chance for their escape. Un- 
 luckily the hre was tardv, and they were all, 
 except the cooks, locked in their respective 
 apartments hef'ore an\ evil was discovered. 
 1 he UmtCil States corps oi Marines was called 
 hy the prison alarm hell, and the result is, 
 though some workshc^ps are destroyed, and 
 every religous society in Bostt^n and Charles- 
 town was disturhed in their exercises, no single 
 son o{' perdition got free. 1 have heen this 
 evening on the Connnon with Cicorge to hear 
 the music, which was finer than connnon, 
 though it would have heen far hetter enjoyed, 
 had the temperature been seven or eight degrees 
 hichor. The tides is calculated, if they he 
 the same at Ouodth as here, and if (what an 
 
25 
 
 important if is this) I can leave here next week 
 on Friday or Saturday, and have a better pas- 
 sage than you had, before sunset on I'uesday 
 tomorrow fortnight I shall embrace you all. 
 
 Good night. 
 
 Capt. Rogers, when I called to inquire for 
 your raspberries, told me you had gone up 
 the river on Tuesday. lie is (juite enam- 
 ored of Emma, who was brought to my mind 
 a few minutes ago by turning over a page 
 in one of our Great J^edgers at the Savings 
 Bank, when the name of Robert Barnes, fel- 
 low fine, popped up. But the young scholar 
 has, 1 hope, learned some more valuable stories 
 than that, among her mischievous requisitions. 
 Whether this bracing cold weather will pro- 
 duce much effect on my looks, is uncertain, 
 but it need not be for the better. Out of re- 
 gard to you, I have continued in excellent 
 health, never so good, and people exclaim at 
 me, as having grown fat by being an Alder- 
 man. You will not be ashamed of me, I hope, 
 as looking less intellectual than may be proper; 
 but unless y(m have gained something, it is 
 poor encouragement for going to the country 
 again. Being rather uncomfortably cool, I 
 
26 
 
 took a walk between 12 and i o'clock to see 
 the darling Harriet. She has many indistinct 
 ideas of you all; but, when asked where mother 
 is, she says coming to kiss Hally. When her 
 father goes away, she will so strongly remem- 
 ber him, as to be able to revive her recollection 
 of those he goes to bring home. One week 
 more will enable me to advertise you of my in- 
 tended passage, until which, my dear wife, keep 
 in remembrance 
 
 Your devoted 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 
 About 1828 r 
 August 23RD. 
 [Emma's dictation.] 
 
 Tell mother that I am a good girl, that I 
 send my love to her, and that I like to stay here, 
 and don't want to come home, and that I want 
 her to come and see me, and I want father to 
 come and Mary and Eliza and Harriet, and I 
 want to see Miss Goodenow.* Harriet would 
 be delighted to come and see the flowers, would 
 not she Emma 
 
 Savage. 
 
 The above is as nearly the words of the lively 
 little girl as the rapidity of her prattle will allow 
 
 * The nurse. 
 
27 
 
 me to catch, and they probably describe her 
 state of mind as well as it can be expected. 
 At the close of the first day, she sighed and said 
 as Mr. G. came in "I want to see my father" 
 but when he spread his arms, she sprung into 
 them and enjoyed the frolic as usual. She is 
 very hearty and we have as yet made no prog- 
 ress in spoiling her, so that I begin to hope 
 you will not repent of having trusted her with 
 us. Give my love to your sweet wife and be- 
 lieve me affectionately yrs 
 
 E. G. Gardiner. 
 
 I have more than once regretted that when 
 you were here I did not more earnestly rec- 
 ommend our dear boy to your kindness. He 
 has just arrived at that period of life when the 
 mind awakes to reflection, and appalled at the 
 labour to be performed, is too apt to be diffi- 
 dent of its own powers. I am well aware, 
 that every man must work his own way out of 
 this gloomy shadow but we can most of us 
 recollect the effect of an expression of hope 
 and confidence from some one to whom we 
 looked with respect. 
 
 Again adieu. 
 
28 
 
 Tuesday Evening, 9 August, 1831. 
 
 To HIS Wife. 
 
 My dear Wife, — After you left me on Satur- 
 day, I had my breakfast speedily, and then found 
 such an abundance of time on my hands, and 
 such an agreeable state of the thermometer, 
 that I walked out to Roxbury street, which is 
 a feat not equalled by me this year, except that 
 cool afternoon, when I walked most of the way 
 to and from Cambridge. We had a moder- 
 ate time enough at club at Dr. Hayward's. 
 On Sunday I passed most of my time, the church 
 hours excepted, at home, but from the Post 
 office at sunset walked home with Mr. Hale, 
 who had just then arrived from his eight days 
 excursion to view railroads in New York and 
 New Jersey. At his house I spent an hour. 
 Yesterday, though the brisk Northeast wind 
 in the morning piped all hands for foul weather 
 to come before long, yet as I could not be sure 
 of leisure again this week, I went to Nahant. 
 Before we got more than halfway, it begun to 
 be apparent, that we made slow progress, for 
 the sea had got up with as much wroth as the 
 state of the tide in the narrow bounds would 
 allow, the tide, wind and drift of the sea being 
 so strong against us, and the steam boat rock- 
 
29 
 
 ing about like an egg shell. Some ladies and 
 more than one male creature were overcome 
 by the agitation so that their stomachs would 
 not be quiet. Our voyage lasted an hour and 
 fifty minutes, though the proper time is only 
 five to ten minutes over an hour. Of course 
 there was too great expense of power and too 
 little temptation for passengers. Indeed they 
 had not expected me at the Peninsula on the 
 account of such boisterous weather. But I 
 enjoyed the excursion much before landings 
 and more after. Exercise, pretty violent, in 
 scrambling over rocks, walking uphill and down 
 dale, was useful to keep me warm, and the vio- 
 lent dashing of the waves was compensation 
 for the exertion to get the most forward posi- 
 tions for the sight. The boat returned in a 
 few minutes to Boston, and it was announced 
 that her two other trips each way must be 
 postponed to more favorable weather. So I 
 hired a chaise to bring me to the Lynn Hotel, 
 and there found a Salem stage coach to forward 
 me home. But my object was as well gained, 
 of seeing Harriet, as if I had reached Nahant 
 three quarters of an hour earlier, and had left 
 two hours later. She looks like the very queen 
 of health, if there be such a personage. Her 
 
30 
 
 face is not imbrowned, but filled out, and her 
 cheeks are as round and as hard as a Novem- 
 ber russet. She did not wish to come home 
 with me, but enjoys her society and her occu- 
 pations mightily. Usually she does not get 
 quite so severe exercise as she had to keep up 
 with Mary £.* and myself over the rugged cliffs. 
 But of society there is abundance in the house, 
 and in the next house, distant about as far as 
 from our front door to Dr. Fisher's, say two 
 Barrett girls, granddaughters of Mr. John 
 Dorr, young Froding and his cousin Miss Chan- 
 ning. Miss Marrett, Miss Otis, James' daughter, 
 &c., &c. 
 
 Thursday Morning. 
 I forgot to mention, that, on Monday morn- 
 ing, calling to look at the progress of the house 
 building for you,t it was told me, that on Sat- 
 urday the well gave out, and the pump would 
 deliver no water. On examination it seemed, 
 the quicksand had been sucked in through the 
 stones and up the bottom. So for want of 
 having inserted a wooden curb behind the 
 stones, the brickwork must now be taken up 
 and a curb be driven down to exclude the sand. 
 
 * Daughter of Wm. Savage with whom Harriet was staying. 
 1 1 Temple Place. 
 
31 
 
 Such a thing occurred at one of the front 
 houses. It is some consolation, that if thirty 
 or forty dollars will be now the extra cost of 
 getting the well to perfection, the character 
 of the soil will be always likely to ensure very 
 fine water. 
 
 Yesterday afternoon, while I was absent, a 
 Miss Turner and Mr. Somebody, whose name 
 Goodnow gave me but I have lost, called with 
 a letter from your cousin Mary Burrill. Doubt- 
 ing whether the letter might not contain some 
 request for service to be rendered here in your 
 absence, but which might as well be done by 
 some other person, I have opened it. But 
 there is nothing of urgent interest in it, and,, 
 as the French proverb has it, sentiments of 
 friendship will keep, it is reserved for your return. 
 
 Whether your letter from Quoddy was written 
 after Genl. Cooper with the wife* and daughter 
 reached there, I know not; but their passage 
 was just as long as I indicated, the packet hav- 
 ing got there on Monday morning. 
 
 Before noon the Council was adjourned, 
 and so I am free to go frolicking. I have noth- 
 ing more to say, but that I am, as ever, wholly 
 yours Jas. Savage. 
 
 Evening 7 o'clock. 
 
 ♦Sister of Mr. Savage. 
 
32 
 
 Boston. 
 Monday Evening, 26 August, 1831. 
 
 To HIS Wife at Brooklyn, N.Y. 
 
 My dear Wife, — I wrote you a very few words, 
 incoherent enough, yesterday morning in five 
 minutes that I. R. Chadbourne gave us before 
 going off for Providence. Mary too wrote at 
 same time with a pencil. He is detained by 
 business at Providence until tomorrow, so that 
 you will not hear from us until Wednesday. 
 
 Mary laments our loneliness more even than 
 I do, because mine is relieved by the out of 
 door operations as usual. But tomorrow we 
 may hope for the company of Abby Gay, 
 which will be a great deal to her, though little 
 to me. Next day will be commencement at 
 Cambridge and the following day the interest- 
 ing P. B. K. celebration, both of which I shall 
 enjoy, if we are blessed with rain to lay the 
 dust, and not otherwise. Yesterday and today 
 have been warm enough, the most comfortable 
 since our return from New Hampshire. If 
 tomorrow be equally warm, as tonight prom- 
 ises it will be, we must gain a thunder shower. 
 On Saturday evening the club will be with me. 
 "The Wednesday night" will not require your 
 presence under four weeks, and long before 
 
33 
 
 that, you will be eager to come home, if Eliza 
 is not. 
 
 Now if this be too soon, do not, I charge you, 
 hurry on; because I can come for you well 
 enough, when you say the word, though it 
 would be desirable for me to leave on return 
 in the afternoon of the same day I should 
 reach. Good night. 
 
 You had, I see by the papers, a grand show 
 at Brooklyn on Saturday evening, happily so 
 early, that the fire, which Mary's geography 
 assures us was not uncomfortably near, could 
 not alarm you. 
 
 The clock has struck eleven, and I bid you 
 good night. 
 
 Last evening's club was at Dr. Hayward's, 
 where Dr. Bigelow gave us many particulars 
 of his rapid excursions in England, France, 
 Italy going and returning, and finally visiting 
 Scotland. Such a tour would not suit me. 
 Every thing beyond Great Britain, had I a full 
 year to spend, should gladly be given up, to 
 enjoy the quiet, sober, leisurely visit and ex- 
 amination of objects of profound associated 
 interest, with which our acquaintance seems 
 
34 
 
 to be intimate. He rode by Abbotsford in 
 the stage coach. 
 
 Probably I shall know no other opportunity 
 of writing to New York for some days, and cer- 
 tainly shall expect to get a letter from you before 
 attempting it. I embrace my dear wife heartily 
 as ever and with the blessing of Govr. Winthrop* 
 doubled upon you this night bid farewell from 
 yours Jas. Savage. 
 
 Thursday Night. 
 
 Liverpool, 9 May, 1842. 
 To HIS Wife. 
 
 My dear Wife, — Dearer than ever by the 
 nearly three thousand miles that separate us, 
 we reached this port before noon today, hav- 
 ing, had probably, the pleasantest passage 
 taking its shortness, its accommodations, its 
 general state of sky, its prevalent fair winds, 
 with the main ingredient, that outweighs all 
 others, the company that enjoyed them, into 
 a general reckoning. We therefore passed 
 less than nineteen days in the ship, including 
 the steamer at each harbour for taking up and 
 getting down the passengers and their lug- 
 
 * At this time, Mr. Savage was occupied in editing Winthrop's History 
 of Massachusetts Bay. 
 
35 
 
 gage. Of these passengers it is indispensable, 
 that you should have some account, for among 
 six ladies and twelve gentlemen in the cabin, 
 no greater variety of qualifications and desire 
 to be agreeable in one way or another could 
 ever be found. But above all, taller, more 
 animated and more constantly thinking of the 
 general gratification, than any other, was the 
 noble spirited, hilarious captain. But in this 
 hour of going to bed, with you at this instant 
 seven almost, in our Longitude eleven and a 
 quarter hours past noon, my delightful recol- 
 lections and my sombre thoughts after being 
 left alone, wholly, in my Hotel, are not to be 
 treated of by an unfeeling pen. Good night. 
 
 Tuesday, 10 May. It is too late, my dear, 
 to give you picture gallery, for now, wanting 
 only a quarter of eleven, after dining at Mr. 
 Gair's, who with his wife go to London to- 
 morrow, I called to take a parting with Dr. 
 Robertson and his three daughters, who em- 
 barked this evening soon after nine in an iron 
 steam ship for Glasgow. 
 
 This morning I wrote to London in answer 
 to one of two letters found lying here for me 
 from friends of Ticknor, and tomorrow hope 
 to show equal politeness to the other. This 
 
36 
 
 morning also I called to pay my devoirs to 
 Lady Nesbit, and also deliver to Mr. Rath- 
 bone the parcel with v^hich Dr. W. E. Chan- 
 ning betrusted me, as well as a letter from Mrs. 
 Farrar. I also made a beginning of investi- 
 gation at the Athenaeum in a rare work not 
 to be obtained in our country. 
 
 Wednesday mornings 1 1. Now the images 
 are somewhat indistinct of the companions of 
 the voyage, when brought all into one group, 
 at least the prominency of one or another must 
 throw others into a shade. So without any 
 formality of arrangement, let the names be 
 called, and the parties pass on. First, then, 
 as her name stands alone. Lady Nesbit, but 
 she brings her niece Miss Wilson, who calls 
 the senior sometimes mother, sometimes aunt. 
 Lady N. is a real lady and reminds me of Mrs. 
 Lawrence from her softness of speech, and 
 bodily infirmity. She was able to come to 
 dinner every day, being an excellent sea going 
 woman, yet not rising early enough to make 
 her toilet before breakfast, in very pleasant 
 weather, also, glad to get sunshine and air on 
 deck, but from weakness in the ancles requir- 
 ing assistance. I gained a favorable opinion 
 with her in the harbour of New York by lend- 
 
37 
 
 ing her a hand in passing from the steamboat 
 to our ship. She was an Alston, sister to wife 
 of a Govr. Wilson of South Carolina, who was 
 father of this niece, and is a kind hearted lady, 
 good for fifty five years, not active minded, 
 but intelligent, polished by society, and shrewd 
 in observation. Her estate is near Kirkcud- 
 bright (remember that this horrid looking word 
 is sweetly pronounced, Kircoohree) and there 
 Miss W., who was born in S. C, has with her 
 resided most of their days. 2. Miss W. is an 
 intelligent lady, almost, she told me, twenty 
 eight years old, of course knowing something 
 of the matters that provide dignity and con- 
 tentment for old maids, having no airs of sen- 
 timental growth, quiet in her superiority of 
 manners, and not squeamishly alarmed at 
 sight of man or sound of his voice. In the 
 seating at our table. Lady N. was first on the 
 Captain's right, her niece next, your husband 
 third. Next was Mr. Thos. Wood, an English 
 scholar, bred at Cambridge, had orders in the 
 church and curacy in Worcestershire. However, 
 his dissatisfaction with the manner in which 
 religious arguments were handled, and (I fear) 
 with the results, (for he seems skeptically in- 
 clined,) drove him to forego his profession, 
 
38 
 
 and he lives on his estate a few miles from 
 London, sympathzing, but in no decided 
 measures, with the views of radical reformers. 
 He is probably forty years old, seemed early 
 to confine his attentions to Miss Wilson, and 
 consequently in some degree to her aunt, but 
 took more kindly to me than to any other pas- 
 senger after those two ladies. He read much 
 aloud to Miss W. and it is no ways unlikely, 
 that the reader and hearer will be together 
 much hereafter. He had come to Boston in 
 the steamer late last autumn in a tempestuous 
 passage, passed quickly as possible to the 
 mining region of Georgia or S. C. where his 
 friends near London had an interest to be 
 looked after, thought favorably of few things 
 in the South, and regretted he had enjoyed 
 no opportunity of seeing our parts of the land. 
 The evening before embarking, he told me, he 
 went with an acquaintance at N. Y. to a small 
 party, where Miss Robbins* lighted on him 
 with her learned speech, and congratulated 
 him that he was to be in the same ship with 
 me. We had some literary fellowship, and he 
 would be a pleasant man, had he been married 
 earlier, or felt a better regard for Christianity. 
 
 * Miss Eliza Robbins of Cambridge. 
 
39 
 
 5- is Mr. Catlin of Hartford, a merchant of 
 some pretensions to general intelligence, suf- 
 fering every hour with sickness of the sea, 
 though the stoutest man on board, and not able 
 to come more than six or eight times to break- 
 fast, lunch, dinner, or tea, but leaving a wife 
 and three children at home in the house, which 
 was once that of Mr. Sigourney. You may 
 recollect the nonsense about the loss of the 
 place, where the beautiful poetry was com- 
 posed, which raised so much unnecessary 
 sympathy four or five years since. 6. Mrs. 
 Taylor, a very interesting English widow, with 
 four children, all boys, of whom the three 
 youngest attend her, the smallest very closely, as 
 you must suppose, being two days short of eight 
 weeks old, when we sailed. She lost her husband 
 last autumn or summer, had not sufficient means 
 to employ a servant, but hoped to find at her 
 mother's in London abundance, had evi- 
 dently been always nursed in luxury, and was 
 wonderfully light hearted. Her stateroom being 
 next to mine, and I the only gentleman, who 
 was alone in the enjoyment of that delight, I 
 had a fair share of the play with her boys, 
 whom I liked inversely to their ages. 7. Mr. 
 Lambert, an admirable specimen of Irish good 
 
40 
 
 breeding, not himself highly instructed, but 
 having good associations with learning, ex. gr. 
 a brother is a lawyer in Dublin, a sister was 
 married to a nobleman, and since better mar- 
 ried to a gentleman in the same city. He has 
 lived many years in Georgia, and Charleston, 
 S. C. to which he will soon return. He was 
 always attentive to Mrs. T. and some on board 
 ship were benevolent enough to believe she 
 had designs on him, or he thoughts of her. 8. 
 Mr. Newbery, a gentleman, born at Gibraltar, 
 of course English, but having seen much of 
 Spain, easily became a Mexican, having his 
 establishment at Guadalaxara, in which coun- 
 try he was married, but has been a widower 
 some years, having a son eight years old in 
 this place at school, whom yesterday he was 
 happy to find in excellent condition and to 
 leave so, hurrying off to Italy to see a brother. 
 His Mexican name, added to the English, is 
 Boschette, and with his agreeable conversa- 
 tion and exceedingly mild manners I was more 
 in communion than with any other gentleman 
 on board. Next him, in strong political con- 
 trast, was a Texan, attached to the Commis- 
 sioner, of whom wait for the picture, as it be- 
 longs to the opposite side of the table. This 
 
41 
 
 Secretary is a man of less agreeable manners, 
 but of very abundant information, born in 
 England, but of French extract, named Toulon, 
 or something of that sound, had lived as a 
 shopkeeper in Montreal, and feeling like a 
 citizen of the world, became an Editor of one 
 of the mischief making journals in that turbu- 
 lent country, to which he hopes to return be- 
 fore the next election in Sept. He played a game 
 of whist well, and (except for his cause) was 
 not at all disagreeable, even to his next plate, 
 the Mexican. lo. Mr. Sherriff, from upper 
 Canada, and near forty, an uncouth Scotch- 
 man, son of that gentleman on the other side 
 of the board. He had been twenty years ago 
 apprenticed to a ship builder at Glasgow or 
 Leith, and is a most kind hearted man, willingly 
 assenting to request from Miss Georgiana to 
 exercise his violin, and even in singing, but 
 showing more heartiness than skill in either 
 exercise. Having finished our side of the table, 
 let us postpone the residue for tomorrow. Yet 
 before going to bed, I should say, that the 
 Great Western arrived early today, and at 
 breakfast I had a New York paper of 28 ulto. 
 Went to see the Parnells, who are at the Adelphi, 
 four or five rods off, the most splendid Hotel, 
 
42 
 
 where also are Lady N. and Miss W. dined with 
 the P's who hurry away in a shower to embark 
 at half past six in the Mail Steamer for Dublin. 
 So good night again. 
 
 Thursday 12. First on the Captain's left 
 is Miss Georgiana, to me the most agreeable 
 object of the companions of the voyage. She 
 is youngest daughter of Dr. R. aged 14, going 
 from school in Montreal, where she was born, 
 to some school in Edinboro', yet undetermined. 
 Intelligence beyond most girls of 18, yet simple 
 as one of 10, full of fun, yet often so concealing 
 her wit under sobriety of expression or manner, 
 as to escape careless observation, she made 
 conversation with any one in happy profusion, 
 especially asking all sorts of questions, and re- 
 membering the answers, tormenting her sisters 
 that had more reserve in their carriage or less con- 
 geniality except for one or another companion. 
 She seized right hold on my heart, the third day 
 out, if not the second, by asking me if I would 
 come and see her at Edinboro, where she ex- 
 pects to be left alone. I had been showing 
 her some sympathy, as she was getting up from 
 the short sickness, encouraging her to walk by 
 giving an arm, picking up books for her, 
 repeating poetry, running up and down from 
 
43 
 
 deck to cabin, as I did for every other lady, 
 and when she grew well enough to use her 
 needle, she worked a souvenir for me to put in 
 the Road book for Scotland, that I had lent her 
 for an hour or two. If she lives, and her health 
 may improve, though now delicate from grow- 
 ing too fast, it is not one man in a hundred that 
 will be worthy of her. 2. William Robertson, 
 M.D., Professor of Surgery, &c., &c., an in- 
 valid. Advice of friends and acquaintance led 
 to this experiment for restoration. He is very 
 tender hearted, has kindly visited almost daily 
 the steerage passengers (45 in number) most 
 of whom are Scotch or Irish, and raised our 
 sensibility about the situation of a man, whose 
 arm had some months before been broken and 
 not well healed. He said the man would die, 
 one day, unless the arm were taken off, myself 
 to assist at the operation, if Dr. Smith patron- 
 ized the experiment. Luckily it was found, 
 that the man was in a delirium, and too low 
 to bear amputation without loss of life, so he 
 was allowed to get well, and I did not cut off 
 his arm. 3. Miss Maria, a pretty quiet girl, 
 about 20 or 22, not of great assumption of any 
 sort, whom some thought the Capt. felt a ten- 
 derness for; and so tattle went around for a 
 
44 
 
 season, that she was for blood and could not 
 demean herself so low. I confess she seemed 
 to me above such nonsense, but not sufficiently 
 interested in any thing but her father. Next 
 her was Daniel Seymour, of New York, the 
 most interesting of the male passengers, thought, 
 on coming on shipboard, to be not likely to 
 live a week. He was unable to walk without 
 leaning on his cousin Dr. Smith, and for two 
 days showed the most wretched bag of bones, 
 and sunken jaws and prominent eyes I ever 
 saw. In a week the skin peeled off from his 
 face, from sitting in the sun, and he began to 
 mend, was able to play upon a beefsteak, 
 showed unbounded knowledge of most sciences, 
 especially languages, of which he was master 
 of several living ones, adequate in Greek and 
 Latin, stored with English Literature and po- 
 litical history, played a good hand at whist, 
 and promised, had not our passage been too 
 short, to become cheerful. 5. Dr. Ashbel 
 Smith, born in N. Carolina, studied medi- 
 cine and surgery in Paris, walked the 
 hospital in London, lived in Tennessee, and 
 is now a Commissioner for Texas, clothed with 
 powers, I suppose, to treat for some purpose 
 or other. He is a little ostentatious of his Greek 
 
45 
 
 and Latin, and therefore I imagine has not 
 much, more so of his professional knowledge, 
 but that forbids a similar conclusion, has seen 
 much of the wild sports and the wilder pas- 
 sions of the West, received a very slight wound 
 in the cause of his new built country, and will 
 be a great manager of affairs, if heaven permit 
 the congregation of ragamuffins to prosper. 
 He is admirably suited to advance himself with 
 ladies, as he can pour out the small talk and 
 has acquaintance with all the petty circum- 
 stances of society coming out from morning 
 to night. Of his age I should make the guess 
 at about 40, but he has never married, and has 
 never lived but in a warm climate for the last 
 fifteen years, so that he may be more worn 
 than advanced. No. 7. The Chaplain may 
 be 29 to 34 years old, but green as a boy of 20, 
 yet acknowledges himself a widower. It is 
 a most difficult part to fill, I doubt not, for he 
 was grand enough in his services, the two 
 Sundays that the weather permitted us, with 
 one accord, to make our common supplica- 
 tions; but one moment he seemed afraid to 
 partake in a game of cards, and another time 
 played at all fours. He began in the harmless 
 blindman's bluff, and got out, when the first 
 
46 
 
 body was caught. Of course he had not the 
 degree of regard from the passengers, that it 
 would be agreeable to show, and one and another 
 seemed to take delight in cutting out Miss 
 Sophia Helen from under his guns. His 
 name is Jackson. No. 8 is the senior SherriflF, 
 a solid business man, not apt to play in any 
 thing, very thoroughly Scotch, slightly diluted 
 with more than 20 years residence in Canada, 
 in whose service he goes to London to obtain 
 encouragement for some internal improve- 
 ment. Perhaps his age is 65, yet his feeble 
 health permitted him not to claim so high 
 station as he should have had. His modesty 
 perhaps kept him back from all but two or 
 three rubbers at whist. No. 9 is Mr. Kimm 
 from St. Louis, Missouri, a German trader, 
 w^ho read the whole time, except at meals, 
 and a few occasional snatches of sunshine on 
 deck. He commenced once in his native lan- 
 guage with Mr. Seymour, spoke perhaps two 
 sentences with one or two others, and, during 
 the voyage, twenty with me. Here is the end; 
 but less than a quarter of this day's work was 
 written then, for I had to go to dine at Green 
 Bank, 3 miles off, with Mr. Rathbone, and 
 some ladies and gentlemen, the party having 
 
47 
 
 been prepared for Revd. Mr. Dall from Mobile. 
 The residue was done on Friday, partly be- 
 fore, partly after a ride 6 miles out to Gatacre 
 to visit Revd. Mr. Shepheard, an aged scholar, 
 with a very interesting adopted daughter. Miss 
 Joyce. Country, at a mile distance from 
 Liverpool begins to look beautiful and some- 
 times rich. It is not that I care to write a 
 Journal in my letter which is to be thrown on 
 paper for Emma for another day, nor that you 
 should be unduly impressed with my remem- 
 brance of you and the sweet ones around you; 
 but really to relieve the sad, and numerous 
 hours are the sad ones, when my loneliness 
 comes over me as with a crush of falling tower. 
 What may it be after leaving Liverpool, where 
 I seem almost to have domesticated myself? 
 But the real difference will be, that after get- 
 ting away from this place, where I have waited, 
 chiefly, to get the first letters from you, I may 
 feel, that something is over, now nothing is. 
 I shall go to London in shorter time for stop- 
 ping here, because I can so confidently feel, 
 that little is to be got out of London. This 
 Saturday I had a call of near two hours and a 
 half on Revd. Mr. Johns, minister to the Poor, 
 with a noble wife. 
 
48 
 
 Sunday, I have attended service three times 
 today, making up for failure last Sunday in 
 the Irish Channel. Mr. Dall, who began as 
 a minister to the poor at St. Louis (Missouri) 
 and has a year and a half preached to the be- 
 nighted at Mobile, officiated at Revd. Mr. 
 Thom's this morning, and at Revd. Mr. Mar- 
 tineau's this evening. Intervening service, at 
 Mr. Thom's, v^as by Revd. Mr. Roberts. I 
 am tolerably well pleased with Liverpool, 
 but perhaps this expression arises from my 
 hearing that Britannia was telegraphed this 
 afternoon from 70 miles distance, though she 
 will not be here before I go to bed. My soli- 
 tude is painful, but company of one, two, or 
 three English good people I have been much 
 gratified with. Every thing has gone right 
 with me, since leaving you, except breaking 
 my tooth brush on the second day's voyage. 
 Tomorrow morning I hope to see John Hillard 
 and if not, shall obtain your letters. Good 
 night. The blessing of heaven on you, and 
 our dear children. I shall never be so long 
 separated from you all again. Much do I 
 think, also, of my dear brother William in his 
 affliction; but it has not been in my power to 
 undertake to write him a letter in his loneli- 
 
49 
 
 ness of heart. Gushing and Molly come over 
 me frequently, and I make love to any little 
 child I see, for the young one's sake. I shall 
 expect to leave this place tomorrow afternoon, 
 yet v^ill speak more positively before sealing 
 this budget, of which some part, of no conse- 
 quence, is for Dr. Pierce. You will, of course, 
 be cautious about a general communication 
 of this letter, for I have written, as if I were 
 talking with you, and something fit to tell you 
 might better not be published from the house 
 top. 
 
 Mondayy 1 6 May. You must infer, though 
 I did not say any thing, that my voyage was, as 
 anticipated. I sang and danced the whole 
 way over the ocean, lost no breakfast, lunch, 
 dinner, or tea, except that the parting meal 
 in Liverpool outer harbour was too slight, 
 from the natural sensibility that parting never 
 to meet again with such pleasant companions 
 must perforce have produced. 
 
 I saw Mr. J. R. Bracket, before breakfast. 
 He goes at 9 a.m. to London. After break- 
 fast I call at Barings, get my letter, saw half 
 a minute Mr. Kendall, learn nothing, but 
 that you remained at New York 30 Apr, and 
 that John will probably come in Caledonia. 
 
50 
 
 Please let all remember, that one letter is a 
 letter, however large, and postage is same. 
 So I pay a dollar and a half this morning, 
 for what might be only a quarter or two at 
 most. 
 
 I am off in half an hour after noon for Ches- 
 ter, thence tomorrow to Shrewsbury probably. 
 Everywhere I am 
 
 Yours 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Chester, i6 May, 1842. 
 To Judge Luther Stearns Gushing. 
 
 Dear Gushing, — I was delighted this fore- 
 noon with receipt of your hand writing of 30 
 ulto. No. I and thank you much for all it con- 
 tained. Almost every thing is interesting to 
 one who so thoroughly partakes of all objects 
 of great, or petty interest, at home, as I do. 
 
 Crossing the Mersey, I found, on its South- 
 ern Bank, railroad to bring me here in 40 min- 
 utes, and have quietly seated myself to read 
 the letters. It is too warm (what do you think 
 of that for the west coast of England .?) to be 
 
51 
 
 moving about in the sun to see what may be 
 worth casting a glance at in this ancient, walled 
 city. Liverpool is all new, two hundred years 
 ago was little bigger than our Chelsea now, 
 and aristocratic Chester could swallow its in- 
 habitants without distortion of the waists of the 
 lieges. You must not expect me to succeed 
 in my undertaking to one quarter of our anti- 
 cipations before my departure. Nothing hardly 
 will be gained, but the knowledge of the barren- 
 ness before reaching London. But you must 
 make my tenderest acknowledgments to Judge 
 Davis, who writes almost as if he doubted 
 about ever seeing me again. What a noble 
 hearted, affectionate man! and he shall have 
 some thing from me in September, if it be only 
 to cry, as the old Hebrew, the glory is departed, 
 Ichabod! 
 
 As my wife will show you all my letters, 
 you must reciprocate, for it would be impossible 
 for me to write to all; and on my part I mean 
 not to be complaining of failure on her part 
 or yours, so that a comprehensive parcel comes 
 from either. I care little about business, ex- 
 cept * positively affecting me, as what you re- 
 
 * It positively would be quite interesting to know the result of sale of the 
 house adjoining mine. Who bought, what price ? Of deaths, nearly all 
 
52 
 
 ceive, or pay, or do, for me. But how can the 
 solitary position of my perambulation, distant 
 from any one I ever saw before, or shall see 
 again after an hour, be relieved by a close 
 conversation put on paper by her or you ? Never 
 having seen before, is nothing, if the strangers 
 are to grow up together for a week or two. No 
 face in the hundred and one on board the New 
 York had ever crossed my eyes before 20 April, 
 except the Captain, and he but a half minute 
 on i6th. Yet to him, and to three, or four, 
 or five, or six, or seven, or eight, others I grew 
 so bound by almost adamantine ties, that 
 had our voyage been of nineteen months, in- 
 stead of as many days, on my part it would 
 have seemed delightful. Let us break oir this 
 sentimental turn, and go out of my cham- 
 ber. 
 
 Bristol, 25 May. 
 
 What the Queen of Sheba said of Solomon 
 is nothing. She referred to report, I to imagi- 
 
 of persons I have known must be strongly impressive. Emma mentions 
 young Lothrop Motley; but of Aunt Otis a casual newspaper informed me, 
 and P. Parker mentioned the latest, as that of Wm. Boardman. T. B. 
 Curtis; Esqr. (whom please thank in my name), sent me the Hale's Daily 
 Advertiser of 30 containing the sad story of the Farm School boys, and 
 details of a large fire, that was also referred to by my inestimable friend. 
 Judge Davis. I see the reward $1000. oflFered. In summer time I have 
 little fear of incendiaries. 
 
53 
 
 nation; and ardent as had been my anticipa- 
 tion of heartiness in the welcome and hospitality 
 that some Englishman might show me, when 
 safely introduced, or patronized by an old ac- 
 quaintance; here is my evidence of hope being 
 far out-run by enjoyment. Let me, however, 
 take the usual sequence of time to give you 
 memoranda of my motives, and emotions 
 before coming at a jump from the date on 
 other page to this nine days later. Coming 
 to Chester I saw little, of course, for the rail- 
 way is apt to keep one's attention inside of the 
 car, and the eye gets no profit by shooting be- 
 yond. But on 17th I saw C. to much advan- 
 tage, under the guidance of Revd. James Fol- 
 liott, to whom a letter from Mrs. King, wife 
 of the artist, introduced me. Pray cause this 
 fact to be made known to her by her husband. 
 He required me to breakfast with him, having 
 late the preceding evening returned from the 
 country, showed me the cathedral, the castle 
 (here are live troops), the walls, only one other 
 city in the kingdom retaining such a glorifica- 
 tion, and after this, as the resolution was per- 
 emptory, that I would go to Shrewsbury by 
 2 P.M. coach, made me partake lunch of mut- 
 ton chop, tart, wine, etc., instructed me to take 
 
54 
 
 the best seat on the coach top for an extra six 
 pence, and would not leave me until, mounted 
 in my place at the office of the establishment, 
 not his residence, nor my hotel, the four-in- 
 hand whirled me away. 
 
 Out of Wolverhampton I got early next 
 morning by Railway, first since Chester, to 
 Birmingham, where no stop was made, but 
 hurry skurry on iron road to Gloucester, rain 
 having fallen the night before, and the morn- 
 ing, it was thought, sufficient to justify assump- 
 tion of outside seats by myself and a pleasant 
 young man, who had made talk in the car, on 
 the coach for Bristol. Murder! out of four 
 hours and a half, it rained almost four, and it 
 cost me quite four at the Swan Inn, Commercial 
 Room, to get into a tolerable state of warmth 
 after tea before it would be safe to go to bed. 
 Gratitude however should have been enough 
 to make me comfortable, for the letters from 
 London, written by John Kenyon, and others 
 promised by him, were all that could be de- 
 sired, more than could be expected. Tell 
 Ticknor. One in particular is the cause of 
 my having this satisfaction at this hour and 
 place. 
 
 Exeter 26. Revd. John Eagles had returned 
 
55 
 
 from London, where he had visited Ticknor's 
 friend, John Kenyon and by him was charged to 
 the brim with kindness for me, (more, by token, 
 he saw my note of acknowledgment from Liver- 
 pool, saying I would be at Bristol on i8th 
 though it grew to be late of the 20th when I 
 reached it) and had a note for me at the Post 
 Office, which it would be vain to attempt 
 to characterize, and wretched weakness to 
 transcribe. Suffice it to say, when on 21st I 
 called to make due return for his benevolence, 
 that it seemed impossible to accept in its literal 
 import, he took possession of me, body, soul 
 and goods, and kept me five days, until this 
 26th he unwillingly parted with his authority 
 by transferring me from his carriage to the 
 railway car that brought me to Bridgenorth 
 at noon, thence a coach, (confound the ever 
 during rain) through Taunton and Honiton 
 has brought me to this capital of Devon, where 
 the Dean, and in several other towns the best 
 of the clergy, are soliciting the favor of doing 
 kindness to the President of the Mass. Hist. 
 Soc. as they have found me out. This even- 
 ing, too, I get a letter from Harriet L., John 
 Hillard's wife, in answer to my jirst from Bris- 
 tol last Sunday. But fatigue requires me to 
 
56 
 
 go to bed before eleven. Mrs. Eagles has 
 given me a parcel for Lucy. Good night. 
 
 On 20th I have come to Totness, and sent 
 my card, with compliments, enclosing also 
 powerful (I presume, for it is sealed) letter of 
 introduction "to the venerable Archdeacon 
 Frowde," of whom all mouths are eloquent in 
 praise, at the neighboring parsonage of Dar- 
 lington. The style is important, because orders 
 and degrees in this church have various ad- 
 dresses (as you know that of Bishop, the Dean 
 is "very reverend,") and surely when Milton 
 says they "jar not with liberty," I may use 
 them. My desire is to get up next Saturday 
 to London to be at home, and rest by changing 
 work. Then J. Hillard will give me my letters, 
 some three days before which this must be 
 closed. 
 
 30 May, Totness. More over-flowing kind- 
 ness from this dignitary, who, on receipt of my 
 note, answered in very few words in writing, 
 and sent off his boy with a chair to bring me 
 to his house, without a nay say. So on Satur- 
 day evening, just as he and his daughter had 
 finished their tea, I joined at their table, passed 
 
57 
 
 all Sunday with him, quiet, saw only one other 
 house, that an ancient, baronial of five or six 
 hundred years, partly decayed in very exten- 
 sive, useless, apartments, showing a kitchen 
 chimney as big as one side of our longer par- 
 lor, and much higher, but partly rebuilt, and 
 having beautiful gardens. I prefer the sim- 
 plicity of those at the parsonage with which 
 I was perfectly charmed. Four female, two 
 male domestics, beside the boy, attend on the 
 small family. The distance from this borough 
 is short two miles. The situation of this place 
 is very agreeable on the Dart, one of the pure 
 streams of the country, here meeting tide. 
 
 I June, evening at Honiton, having come a 
 long distance, since ii a.m. at Plymouth. So 
 now I am well on my gladsome way up to Lon- 
 don, though it must not be very rapid for at 
 Axminster, only 9 miles East (because now I 
 change my returning course, that has been 
 identical from Honiton to Plymouth with that 
 travelled reversely last week) and at Dorches- 
 ter on Thursday, and at Salisbury on Friday 
 I must stop, either to acknowledge kindness 
 or to gain information. You have before this 
 had my letters, and yesterday at Plymouth by 
 
58 
 
 London mail paper of Monday I saw news of 
 the Caledonia reaching Lpool on Sunday. 
 Some days ago I wrote to John's wife to desire 
 letters to be stopped, as I should hope to be 
 with her on Saturday evening. Of my wife, 
 of your wife and family, of Eliza, of Emma, 
 of Harriet, of Lucy, of the young soldier my 
 desire is very great to get accounts and as John 
 must have come, these accounts will be not 
 only in Ms. I am charmed with the sight of 
 Eng. as an agricult. country, the beauties of 
 Devon have not been over-colored. I see no 
 more destitution of any sort than in our own 
 country. The extravagant attempt on the 
 Queen's life, heard of this morning at Plymouth 
 early must be insanity. Every thing of the 
 government wears a good face, and such, after 
 Congr. rises will be my expectation for our own. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Dorchester, 2 June, 1842. 
 To HIS Wife. 
 
 My dear Wife, — Before this time of night 
 you must have received the letter I left at Liver- 
 pool for you, if indeed it did not reach you yes- 
 
59 
 
 terday. So you see, how closely I calculate 
 about you and your motions and occupations. 
 
 3rd has brought me to Salisbury, and my 
 passage is paid for the whole route to London 
 tomorrow. But much as my delight is for this, 
 my gratitude for unbounded attention must 
 not slumber. All England, that I have yet 
 visited with introductions to gentlemen, seems 
 to have been laid under contribution in my 
 favor. Yesterday morning I was, for a short 
 time, down stricken, finding, on reaching Ax- 
 minster, and sending my card to Revd. Wm. D. 
 Conybeare, who had, on motion from John 
 Kenyon, Esquire, written several letters for me, 
 and one to me, that he had been three days ab- 
 sent, and would not return before evening. 
 Now at my next designed stopping place (Dor- 
 chester) that I must reach that evening, hav- 
 ing no letter, I had depended on my success 
 in obtaining one at Axminster from my unseen 
 friend. But his lady sent me word to come 
 to breakfast, which I obeyed forthwith, found 
 most hospitable reception, received a letter 
 from her to Arthur H. Dyke Acland, Esqr. 
 (son of Sir Thomas) at D., was made also, 
 together with her husband's curate, to par- 
 
6o 
 
 take early dinner, and in the afternoon pro- 
 ceeded to D. with a gayer heart. Having sent 
 to Mr. A. he called after I was gone to bed near 
 eleven o'clock, called again at seven this morn- 
 ing, before I was dressed, having thought only 
 of necessity of taking coach for this city soon 
 after lo. He made me go to his house to break- 
 fast as soon as I could get ready, had morning 
 prayers with visitors and domestics and chil- 
 dren in a private chapel, took me to the church, 
 the object of my desire, in which two hundred 
 and thirty years before officiated John White, 
 a true friend of New England, when she had 
 hardly any other, gave me card to his father, 
 and sent me forward rejoicing. He is about 
 28 years of age, has 5 children, the only son 
 born a few days ago. So we saw not mother 
 of the three blessed girls that were in chapel, 
 of whom only the oldest was seated at break- 
 fast. Strawberries were on the table, but not 
 quite so ripe as we love them. 
 
 London, 7 June. 
 How can I postpone any longer, my dear 
 wife, telling you of and about this city and my 
 movements. On'reaching J. H.'s house, an hour 
 before dinner, Saturday afternoon, he and Harriet 
 were heartily glad to see me, as you must know I 
 
6i 
 
 was to cease to be wholly among utter strangers, 
 besides the deHght of your letters, Cushing's 
 and bro. Wms. One sad deduction I must 
 make from the pleasure of reading your letter, 
 that was in all other particulars exactly what 
 I desired, mentioning all the details of every- 
 body and thing that could interest me. . . . 
 this evening to his Excellency, Mr. Everett's, 
 tomorrow dine with the Vaughan's, Thursday, 
 breakfast with Ticknor's friend, Kenyon, and 
 calls enough to fill up the time till next 
 week on Thursday, when I must dine 
 with T's other friend Divert. My object, 
 that ought to be always in my mind, can 
 be advanced only casually. But now let 
 me speak of what has been done here. On 
 Sunday, of course, I went to church, in the 
 evening, before dinner, spent an hour with 
 Mrs. Richards * and her daughter Maria, who 
 are very well. She tells me John is at Bath 
 for renewal of his health after the trial of an 
 Indian climate. A boy, with an attendant 
 from Bengal, not a tiger, is with her. Henry 
 has given up his theological plans, and gone a 
 few weeks ago towards Calcutta by the short 
 
 * Grandmother of Professor R. H. Richards of Massachusetts Institute 
 of Technology. 
 
62 
 
 route, has been heard from at Malta, and will 
 be again by this mail, when the letters get on, 
 no doubt, at Alexandria, perhaps Suez. Yes- 
 terday I spent in finding improvement for my 
 outward man, say by hat, gloves, stockings, 
 hope of a tailor's labors, etc., and spent an hour 
 or less with Miss Vaughan. To-day I have 
 been to the British Museum, almost as over- 
 powering in objects of antiquity as London 
 itself in novelty. Capt. Wormeley, another 
 friend of T's today binds me to dine with him 
 on Friday. Yet I had strength enough to 
 visit the mother of Mrs. Farrar, and pass an 
 hour with her. Her sister, Mrs. Longston, 
 from Jersey Isle, was present. 
 
 Wednesday I laboured four hours at British 
 Museum. On Friday from dinner table at 
 Capt. Wormeley's, J. H. called for me in a cab 
 to go to Prof. Faraday's last lecture for the 
 season at Royal Inst. We saw ear of wheat 
 in beautiful growth of this year from seed of 
 last year's ripening from seed taken out of 
 folds of cloth, wrapped round a mummy, from 
 Egypt, uncertain whether two or three thousand 
 years ago. Saturday found me again at 
 breakfast, with larger company than on Thurs- 
 day, at Mr. Kenyon; and as my charming Mr. 
 
63 
 
 Engles (see letter to Gushing by last steamer) 
 is to come into the city for some excursions 
 this week with K. I must breakfast there 
 again next Saturday. Here I meet Geo. Sum- 
 ner, come from the continent early in the week. 
 But at two o'clock, we three, J. H. and his wife 
 and myself, go upon the grandest affair I shall 
 have or see in Eng. The June Horticult. ex- 
 hibition at Chiswick. There are but three in 
 the year, May, June and July, and this is com- 
 monly the most frequented. Crowded were 
 the roads with vehicles of every sort, and many 
 horsemen, of course nobody on foot, because 
 the admission tickets were a crown each to those 
 who had member's vouchers to justify their 
 applying at the Soc. Rooms in the city, and 
 two crowns at the gate. The heat was great, 
 but dust worse, delay for setting down at the 
 entrance worse of all. We alighted, after 
 waiting half an hour to advance in the line, 
 constantly advancing slower, when our cab was 
 more than half a mile from the gate and poking 
 through horses and carriage I said, after getting 
 into the garden, adorned with wonderful flowers 
 on many stations, and rich with various speci- 
 mens of fruits, tempting as they were, I said I 
 would not go through the service again for a 
 
64 
 
 present of the Isle of Gr. Britain in fee. Un- 
 certainty was the worse concomitant of the 
 affair, first, should we ever get to the promised 
 land, next should we be able to get home. 
 
 James Savage. 
 
 London, 25 June, 1842. 
 To Judge Gushing. 
 
 Dear Gushing^ — As a whole week has elapsed, 
 since the last words were written to my wife, 
 I can no longer refrain to hold some communi- 
 cation with dear Boston. My days fly swifter 
 than a weaver's shuttle, was a mode of lamen- 
 tation for David, but not so much with me, as 
 they are pleasurable, whisking too much from 
 one thing to another, indeed, but such is un- 
 avoidable London life. 
 
 Much of my time has been given to the British 
 Museum, where the superfluity of materials is 
 so great that you are in danger of starving be- 
 fore making choice of the requisite viand. 
 Some hours were bestowed on Doctors Com- 
 mons, and you may mention to either Judge 
 Davis, or Revd. Alexr. Young, that I have 
 exact copy, by my own collation, of Isaac 
 
65 
 
 Johnson's (the founder of Boston sometimes 
 called) last will, made about three weeks be- 
 fore embarking with Govr. Winthrop. It costs 
 money to get such things. 
 
 It is almost surprising, how deficient are the 
 materials of such information, as I desire. No- 
 body thinks here of the probability of finding 
 early registry in the parishes. For Snelling 
 alone have I yet obtained any success. At 
 Cambridge University, probably, the deficiency 
 will be lamentable, as Prof. Smyth has pre- 
 advertised me; and the Revd. Jos. Hunter, the 
 most accomplished antiquary in all these parts 
 who being employed in the Record office (mind 
 the quantity) is ready next Monday to show 
 me a list of persons permitted to embark at 
 this port of London in 1635, (the only year 
 known to have such muniment) assures me, 
 that nothing is to be learned by me, except 
 from printed books, as every thing has been so 
 frequently rumpled over, that it is copied for 
 the press or destroyed. My list of 1635 is, 
 however, an exception, and he acknowledges, 
 that by casualty there may turn up something, 
 but none the more likely to be found by look- 
 ing for it. He tells me, after paying my fee 
 for admission, the entry is potential for a week 
 
66 
 
 when you must pay again; but more curious 
 still, he says, you are not permitted at the 
 augmentation office (such is the title of his 
 workshop) to take any transcript in writing. 
 I may use my pencil, but not ink. The public 
 seems not to have acquired its spirit from in- 
 dividuals, every one of whom, that I see, is eager 
 to encourage me, delighted to talk on my en- 
 quiries, and especially prompt to request me 
 to eat and drink. 
 
 28 June. 
 Yesterday I was engaged near five hours 
 copying, with pencil, from the great rarity at 
 the augmentation office, and after getting 
 home from that workshop, which I did not 
 leave until their hours for the day were ended, 
 I sat down to put my work into ink, or a third 
 of it at least before dressing to go to Govr. 
 Everett's dinner party. Today I have finished 
 the transcription of what I pencilled yester- 
 day, stole time enough (two hours and a half) 
 for a drive out to Hampstead to see Miss Aiken, 
 whose conversation is full of spirit. She, like 
 all others that meet me, says I can learn from 
 books all that is to be learned, and refers me 
 to books or repositories utterly barren. 
 
67 
 
 Will Congress falsify my anticipation of 
 making a proper tariff? Will they undo the 
 distribution act? Will the country be forever 
 cursed with the question of who shall be the 
 next president, and all questions of policy and 
 principle be made to whirl round on that pivot ? 
 
 From Emma's letter I observe, that poor 
 Miles has given up his school, and so my two 
 elder daughters are in the wilderness. E. 
 says mother thinks I should be pleased to have 
 them under Folsom's care. Certainly there 
 can be nothing better, and I hope no time will 
 be lost in securing their admission for next 
 quarter. 
 
 4 July. 
 
 You will observe, with pleasure, that the 
 government here have commuted the sentence 
 of death against Francis, the foolish youth, 
 who discharged a pistol, loaded or not is un- 
 certain with any thing but powder. Unhappily 
 for the cause of good order, another prepos- 
 terous attempt was made yesterday, while the 
 royal party were driving to church just before 
 noon. Such ridiculous attacks make people 
 uneasy, and I fear the disposition to make an 
 awful example may increase. Most people 
 
68 
 
 disagreed with me about the execution of sen- 
 tence against F. that could not, in my opinion, 
 have been carried through with good policy. 
 
 To my wife, your wife, Eliza, Emma, Har- 
 riet, Lucy and Jamie make known, that I was 
 never in better health in the first week of July 
 in my life, but have been and shall continue, 
 while in this Babylon, especially busy. I fin- 
 ished on Saturday transcribing my lists of eleven 
 hundred and fifty three names of persons, al- 
 lowed, at the London Custom House, to pass 
 to New England from Christmas 1634 to some 
 day in Septr. of the next year; but you will 
 naturally presume, that these are of parties 
 to whom exception could not be taken, and do 
 not include fiery puritans as the Lincolns and 
 Cushings that embarked down in Norfolk, nor 
 others of similar noses upturned against Archbp. 
 Laud and his coadjutors. Indeed there were 
 persons, I know very well, that got on board 
 the ships that departed from London, by going 
 down channel and at an outpost secured their 
 transportation. 
 
 I continue to receive admirable expressions 
 of kindness from all persons to whom I apply 
 for encouragement. Yet let not any body, on 
 our side of the ocean, presume to expect any 
 
69 
 
 information from this side, without severe in- 
 quisition for it. All is forgotten here. This 
 very volume, fol. . . . Ms. has been found in 
 a different quarter of the city within three or 
 four months, and it is thought that no similar 
 one remains in any place. 
 
 A note for J. A. Lowell I wish to go as soon 
 as possible, and about ten days after I wish 
 you to inquire of Wainwright at Savings Bank, 
 how the Institution gets on, and whether he 
 will send me, by private hand, to care of Coates 
 & Co., No. 13 Bread Street, Cheapside, any 
 copies of Report, unsealed. 
 
 A note for S. G. Drake may go in no hurry. 
 I do not wish him or any body else to set me 
 any new stints. 
 
 I would gladly fill up my paper more, but 
 am obliged to break off to go down into the city. 
 
 Let my brother and wife, and every other 
 body that inquires know how truly I am, as 
 
 ever 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 London, 7 July, 1842. 
 To HIS Wife. 
 
 My dear Wife, — Having sent off on Monday 
 4th Inst, a letter for Boston, it seems time to 
 
70 
 
 begin again to let you know about me. I am 
 almost tired of London, because my labours 
 are attended with so little success. Yet it shall 
 never be said of me, that my time was given 
 to seeing sights, when it should have been oc- 
 cupied with the real business that brought 
 me here. Still, there are some accidental 
 novelties that fall in my way, as I pass one, 
 two or three miles out and home in pursuit 
 of my antiquarian trifles. The most striking, 
 and least agreeable, diversity from our New 
 England habits is in the funerals. Nobody 
 knows anything about an interment, but the 
 relatives, and this may be reasonable enough; 
 but think of the advertisements, or signs, 
 put over shop doors, ^^ Funerals furnished*' 
 or "Funerals performed/' which are very 
 commonly to be read, as you walk the streets. 
 Both phrases mean, I suppose, the same 
 thing. 
 
 You may let Judge Davis, or any of the 
 learned, know, that Mr. Graham, who gained 
 so much in our esteem by his History of Amer- 
 ica, died last Sunday, suddenly, here in Lon- 
 don. It was mentioned in the Times, news- 
 paper yesterday. I was ignorant of his having 
 come from France, or it would have been great 
 
71 
 
 satisfaction to me to have obtained an intro- 
 duction to him. 
 
 I believe that no account has been given by 
 me of the residence of our nephew here, and 
 as I mean next v^eek to go dov^n (every direc- 
 tion, East, West, North or South from London 
 is down) to Cambridge it may as well be 
 done now. The street is pretty quiet no 
 omnibus passing near it, and very few carts, 
 plenty of carriages, especially to stop at 
 the next door, the Queen's hairdresser, where 
 many of the ladies if haut ton must present 
 themselves for the proper service of M. Isadore. 
 But you will care less for all this, than what I 
 can tell of the indwellers; and most of these 
 you know too well for my taking up the task. 
 
 Now for the baby, which must not complain 
 of being postponed. She is of the most com- 
 fortable, healthy and forward thing of the sort, 
 has had one tooth almost four weeks, and un- 
 doubted indications of the neighboring one 
 coming into line very soon. She loves very 
 much to step and jump and will, of course, soon 
 exhibit the accomplishment of walking, or 
 rather running, for she will not be patient enough 
 
72 
 
 to walk. What charms me is, her hilarity, 
 opening her mouth about double what any full 
 grown lady in her wildest laugh would dare. 
 So we are close friends, even father is not equal 
 to me for fun with her; but then Kate* knows 
 her interest unites with duty in reverencing 
 
 him above me. 
 
 Cambridge, 13TH. 
 I have worked gloriously at the Registry of 
 the University yesterday and today, have found 
 some things not before known, and have failed 
 of extending my information so far as would 
 have been desirable. But I have had great 
 satisfaction in my visit in the quiet of the va- 
 cation, deepened by the repose of every body 
 and thing after the great excitement, crowd 
 and ceremony of the Installation of his Grace, 
 the Duke of Northumberland, as Chancellor 
 of this renowned seat of the Muses, last week. 
 Of course I am charmed with the account, in 
 which all voices concur, of the happy exhibi- 
 tion made by Mr. Everett, our Ambassador, 
 on the occasion. The Master of Emanuel, 
 Vice Chancellor of the University, showed me 
 from the Duke a communication from Mr. E. 
 relative to the indebtedness of our country to 
 
 * Eldest child of John Hillard. 
 
73 
 
 this Institution of Cambridge, and particu- 
 larly to Emanuel College, the mother of John 
 Harvard, founder of the blessed University at 
 our Cambridge. It was written with his usual 
 felicity. I was dined yesterday and the day 
 before at the table of Peter House, sitting on 
 the right hand of good old Professor Smyth, 
 with excellent entertainment, physical and in- 
 tellectual. But it has happened to me to see 
 nearly the last of the noble hearted scholar, 
 though my company evidently renovated him 
 from the occasion of bringing up the memory of 
 Ticknor, his wife and especially his daughter. 
 He shook off his ailment, and partially reduced 
 his deafness. 
 
 London, i6th. 
 
 I would have written much of the beauty of 
 the country through which our road, both rail 
 and coach, divided in nearly equal halves, led, 
 part in Essex, part in Middlesex and the residue 
 in the shire of Cambridge, but, excepting in 
 the neighborhood of Waltham and Chester- 
 ford, close to which latter is the splendid seat 
 of Lord Braybrook, which the coach passes 
 within three hundred yards of, it is generally 
 too flat for the beauty to be observable unless 
 well clothed by cultivation. I am to go today 
 
74 
 
 down on the Birmingham Railway a short 
 distance, say i8 miles, to be taken up by Mr. 
 Rotch, brother of Mrs. Farrar, to be trans- 
 ported to St. Albans. So I break off. 
 
 I'jth. My enjoyment was very high yester- 
 day. The air like the best of our early June, 
 and sky perfectly clear, country diversified by 
 hill and dale, like our most exquisite Brook- 
 line and Newton, not crowded with houses, 
 except at the town of St. Albans, about a dozen 
 miles from the station at which I stopped before 
 noon, and sixteen miles from the Harrow sta- 
 tion, six miles nearer London, in a decent dis- 
 tance of less than one mile from which is the 
 residence, a very agreeable cottage, of Mr. 
 Rotch. Here I saw gold fish in a pond, and 
 rare ducks. Barnacle geese, hares, rabbits, and 
 several beautifully spotted deer, some pretty 
 dogs and a handsome (if possible) goat, all 
 matters of divertisement for his wife, while he 
 is occupied at his office in town. They are 
 all very gentle, come to call, and know the kind 
 attention of owners and servants. Mr. Farrar 
 sent over a short time since a Bob-o-link, whose 
 notes were more joyous yesterday than usual. 
 A fawn was born within an half an hour after 
 our arrival in honor of my visit, and the mother 
 
75 
 
 of Mr. R. came down in the afternoon train to 
 dine, and stop a day or two. I entered the 
 cars on return before half past nine, and reached 
 London soon after dusk. Today Mr. Petty 
 Vaughan and his sister, Sally, call to tell me, 
 that she goes on Tuesday to take passage for 
 New York in the Mediator, London packet 
 ship. She will, I hope, reach before Com- 
 mencement day, and has promised to go to you 
 for the very short stop she can make in Boston, 
 for I tell her it is the most distance from her 
 friends on either hand. Dr. Bigelows and either 
 the Guilds, if they are in town, or the Scollays. 
 You know I am her trustee with Capt. Curtis 
 and J. Quincy, Jr., so that if you were not so 
 hospitably inclined as she knows you to be, 
 it would be right to insist on her making her 
 visit at Temple Place. Besides she is, and has 
 long been, a great admirer of Emma, and E. 
 may do her some little service. She has seen 
 more of me than any body else, out of this 
 house. They tell me also of arrival of the 
 steamer yesterday at L.pool from Boston, so 
 that tomorrow I must get my news from you all; 
 glad enough shall I be, though it may be nec- 
 essary to close this letter before my advices can 
 be read. 
 
16 
 
 1 8 July must bring my despatch to a close, 
 whether half be said, or not, that should be. 
 At Mr. Everett's last evening we find, that he 
 obtained his advices early in the morning, be- 
 fore breakfast; and well entitled he is to get 
 such advantage, though he could be only a few 
 hours before other people, except on Sunday. 
 The Post Offices in and around the Metropolis 
 are closed. The friends at Mr. E's were very 
 few, only Dr. Boott, his mother and two daugh- 
 ters, Mr. and Mrs. Patterson, and a young 
 Lee, son of Harry. Mrs. P. you remember as 
 the daughter of Mr. Moorfield using to pass us 
 on Sundays going in or out of church on our 
 side aisle. She is very much improved in health 
 and good looks. Still it is a sad thing to meet 
 ones countrymen here, when the country is 
 hourly disgraced by the stupidity of its govern- 
 ment. I read the accounts with mortification 
 at breakfast, and rejoice, when going abroad, 
 that I shall not be pointed at as an American. 
 Even among the English acquaintance, who 
 have a very strong good will to our whole coun- 
 try, I disclaim being answerable for, or ac- 
 quainted with any part of the Western world, 
 but New England. 
 
 Afternoon: I am delighted with your letters 
 
77 
 
 in all respects, except the melancholy report 
 of sickness, casualty and death. Here is a 
 better season, so far, than has been known for 
 some four or five years. But the variety in 
 human life, and condition, extends every v^^here. 
 What a sad death of the Duke of Orleans! 
 How may you and I suffer from it, in the evils 
 to France, that is to all the civilized world. I 
 was never in better health, and just busy enough. 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Harriet sends her love. Postage is one shill- 
 ing, each letter, unless it weigh over half ounce, 
 then it doubles. So the seven pieces of paper 
 C. sent cost no more than two, if separate. In 
 any part of G. B. a penny, unless double or 
 treble, quadruple, etc. 
 
 London, i8 July, 1842. 
 To Judge Gushing. 
 
 My dear Gushing, — I have within three hours 
 received your letter No. 5 and am unable fully 
 to express my obligation to you, but after twice 
 reading it, as well as Lucy's, Harriet's and wife's, 
 the first point that occurs to me is, to set an ex- 
 ample of beginning in season to reply, that your 
 
78 
 
 excuse, of many interruptions, for not filling 
 all the paper, shall not become mine. 
 
 In London almost everything is to be learned, 
 if you get access to the right teachers; and for 
 the outlying places, if they are large you may 
 find local histories; if small, inquire of the rec- 
 tors or vicars of the churches, who can tell you 
 nothing, except from the Registers, of v^hich 
 probably nine in ten are lost by various acci- 
 dents, chiefly by having never existed, 
 
 I exult greatly in the happy termination of 
 Rhode Island folly. Will the new Constitution 
 have security for any property qualification of 
 suffrage ^. How can they be safe without it } 
 Washington intrigues shame me altogether. 
 None but friends are ever allowed here to know, 
 that I am an American, for the competition at 
 the seat of the Federal Government seems to 
 be for the equality in disgrace that attaches to 
 the delinquent members of the confederacy, 
 say Mississippi, Indiana, Michigan or Pennsyl- 
 vania. What a train of associations does this 
 last name bring up! It was the keystone of 
 our Union. It was so honest a community, 
 that even the governorship of so petty a dema- 
 gogue as MifBin could not sink it more than 
 
79 
 
 his rival in contempt, Hancock, could Massa- 
 chusetts. 
 
 Oxford 27. 
 
 I left the great Babylon on Monday and 
 went about 35 miles to dine at Remenham Hill 
 with Revd. George Gorham, who kept me till 
 Tuesday afternoon in most perfect delight, ex- 
 cept that he could detain me no longer. He 
 was obliged next morning to go from home^ 
 and I was bound to this seat of the Church and 
 State Muses. I breakfasted with Dr. Daubeny^ 
 professor of Botany, ruling the glorious garden 
 here for that purpose, also prof, of Chemistry. 
 From him I went to work hard to find out little 
 at Philip Bliss the Register of the Univ. With 
 him I must dine tomorrow. It is vacation time 
 happily, or I should despair of having any of 
 his time for any enquiries. 
 
 29. I came to London again just before 
 midnight, having dined with the Register, no- 
 body but his wife present. It was delightful. 
 I am charmed with Oxford, and got some in- 
 formation in the eight hours steady work at the 
 Registry, where also I gave some, and caused 
 correction of an error in Bliss's noble edition of 
 Wood's Athenae by reference to original Regis- 
 ter for a different matter, which remains in- 
 
8o 
 
 volved in obscurity they can hardy explain. 
 But I should have been able to give more time 
 there, had not the necessity existed of coming 
 here to meet my noble friend, Kenyon, who goes 
 to Germany, (tell Ticknor, if you see him) on 
 Monday, as also to make arrangement for my 
 peregrination in Essex. I made, however, so 
 agreeable impression at Oxford, I think, by 
 my politics and knowledge of my native land, 
 to which every where I find the most friendly 
 regards, that if time would permit me to make 
 a second visit, it would be well repaid. We 
 hear, by the newspapers, in a wonderfully short 
 passage of the steamer, which came up from 
 Liverpool just after midday; but I must be 
 patient till tomorrow for my letters. Let me 
 however, before tomorrow ask, if "Jardine's 
 Index to State Trials" is in Boston, of course 
 it would be at the Law Library if any where ? 
 
 August 3 must close my letter, if ever so much 
 tediousness remained to be bestowed on you. 
 Remember, whatever is to be addressed to me 
 requiring action must come by steamer of i 
 Sept. though by the next you must, for the last 
 time, write me information. I have abun- 
 dance of money and health, and on Friday 5th 
 
set ofF for the North, travelling slowly to gather 
 the fat of the land until I pass the bounds of 
 Yorkshire. Scotland will, beyond my South 
 West tour, (be) a mere journey for pleasure. 
 If my wife feel no jealousy, I shall hope to find 
 Professor Robertson and his daughters, my 
 fellow passengers across the ocean. Last even- 
 ing I saw a sweet little Lucy, one of Dr. Boott's 
 children, though she brought to mind Eliza 
 Woodward more than my daughter, for whom 
 or any other of my household, including you 
 and your wife I find not any parallel here. I 
 have found, yesterday, at Merchant Taylor's 
 Books my ancestor's binding apprentice, fihus 
 Wilhoni Savidge de Taunton in Com. Somer- 
 set 29 January, 1620-1 which perfectly concurs 
 with his age on the tombstone supposing him 
 to be 14 at age of beginning appr. and also with 
 the age at the custom house, when embarking 
 for New England. But as yet all my search, 
 all my enquiries for glorious John Harvard 
 give me nothing but his two degrees at Cam- 
 bridge, when he signed proper manu. I have 
 sent by the greatest Yorkshire antiquarian to 
 hunt for him in the North, where, you know, 
 the Archp. of York had jurisdiction of wills. 
 Will you ask Presdt. Quincy, what he thinks, 
 
82 
 
 of my advertising, offering a reward in the 
 Times, for information about him ? What do 
 you say yourself to it ? With all good wishes 
 to wife and her big children, yourself, wife and 
 little one, as ever I am 
 
 Truly yours, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 To HIS Wife. 
 
 Norwich, 8 August, 1842. 
 
 My dear Wife, — I should not allow myself 
 the delight of travelling in such beautiful coun- 
 try, without making you a partaker. After 
 leaving London to move North Easterly, the 
 land lies flat until you reach Brentford, above 
 a dozen miles, and from that smart looking, busy, 
 little town, you have constant variety of surface 
 through residue of Essex, the whole of Suffolk, 
 and thus far in Norfolk. I came on Friday to 
 Mr. Richard Almack at Melford, (friend of 
 Nathan Appleton, though they never met,) to din- 
 ner, and remained till 11 p.m. talking antiquities. 
 He required me to come to breakfast, and kept 
 me until after 10 on Saturday evening, called 
 on me an hour before church on Sunday, pre- 
 sented me three old English coins, promised 
 
83 
 
 to send or carry to London for me a copy 
 of Howeirs Letters 1630 with autographs of 
 interest in it. He walked me about on Satur- 
 day, after a shower had laid the dust nicely, 
 through an avenue of elms from the road to 
 a gentleman's seat one mile, and told me of all 
 the proprietors through succeeding ages, and 
 talked of Melford Hall, nearer to the village, 
 being the spot where lived Howell, then a tutor 
 to one of the sons, or all the family, of Savage, 
 Lord D'Arney and Earl Rivers. On Sunday 
 on our way to church he turned into the grounds 
 of Melford Hall, and we saw deer in abundance, 
 undisturbed, close to the house, which is now 
 under repairs, the owner being in Norway fish- 
 ing or shooting. It was necessary to take coach 
 in the afternoon to come to this city, of which 
 I have yet seen no part, having resolved to 
 go not out before breakfast today. 
 
 ()th. Great was my luck yesterday, being 
 called on before I had done breakfast by Page 
 Nicol Scott, Esqr. to whom I had early (as 
 directed by the writer) sent a letter of intro- 
 duction obtained for me by Mr. Almack from 
 one of his neighbors, resident at that house with 
 the glorious avenue above said, Mr. S. was 
 therein desired to gain me access to the great 
 
84 
 
 wonder of this county, Costessy, or usually 
 called Cossey, the seat of Marquis of Stafford, 
 a Catholic Peer, who married one of the grand- 
 daughters of Chas. Carroll of Carrollton, a Miss 
 Caton. First then I was gallivanted about the 
 city, introduced at the Museum, Public Library, 
 Private Reading Room, and made free of all; 
 then, in a vehicle opening from the top, we went 
 off to the most melancholy, most splendid es- 
 tate I have seen in England. Melancholy, 
 beyond common parlance, is the condition, 
 splendid, beyond modern notions, the situation 
 of the edifice. Probably it is of the Eliza- 
 bethan style and very highly ornamented. It 
 is castle and palace, superior to the royal 
 palaces that have met my view, except in- 
 imitable Windsor. The central part, at least 
 at the two fronts, is very high; and it must, 
 if finished in conformity, cost little, if any 
 less than a million of dollars. But much is 
 boarded up, and neither Lord S. who is 70 
 years old, nor his heir can put the finishing 
 hand, for the whole estate is conveyed to Trus- 
 tees to raise money to pay the debts incurred 
 for what is already done. Pigs, sheep and 
 horses belonging to vulgar people, are there 
 feeding. Even over the fine running stream 
 
85 
 
 in the grounds, where once was a beautiful 
 bridge, now only two planks are laid. All this 
 is the mistake of the former wife; and the pres- 
 ent one wanted a title and a coronet! 
 
 This morning I took Post horses and drove 
 before breakfast fourteen miles to Hingham, 
 having found here a letter from Hon. and Revd. 
 Wm. Wodehouse, Rector of that parish. Send- 
 ing my card from the Inn, with compliments, 
 hoping for his kindness to name a time when 
 I should call, and taking care that my card 
 should go early enough, I had a most unpro- 
 pitious answer, that he had not received due 
 notice of my intention, so that he might have 
 made a different arrangement for business, in 
 which he had just been engaged as a magis- 
 trate, and that it was necessary for him to go 
 to Norwich forthwith. However shortly after 
 came a message from the Rectory, before I had 
 done breakfast, that his son, who was lately 
 returned from America, would be pleased to 
 see me in half an hour. I got to the house a 
 minute or two before the Revd. Esquire sat 
 off, and was well pleased with the son, who 
 waited on me to view the graveyard and ex- 
 amine the church, and especially to take in from 
 the top of the tower the exquisitely fine pano- 
 
86 
 
 ramie view for seven or eight miles, on every 
 side. Perhaps Old Hingham has as little re- 
 semblance to its namesake as to any town in 
 America; yet there are some grounds of com- 
 parison, in which our new world town has the 
 superiority. There is no water near Old H. 
 bigger than the little stream by Great Plain; 
 no hill higher than that of Dr. Bela Lincoln's 
 next to Mr. Gay's; the houses, as in all Eng- 
 lish parishes, are very close together, many 
 absolutely, however narrow, cottages, in blocks, 
 like those of our city dwellings. But then the 
 great superiority here is in the cultivation, 
 hardly an acre to be seen, from which great 
 product is not taken, unless it be a rich man's 
 ornamental plantation of trees. This is the 
 common glory of England. Yet I admire my 
 own country the more, every hour I am distant 
 from it. A meadow will here remind me of a 
 similar one at home. 
 
 On loth I took coach, in a bitter hot, dry 
 forenoon for Yarmouth, and before high noon 
 had a short view of the glorious ocean having 
 not seen deep water before for about two months. 
 The sight restored my drooping spirits, and 
 at Mr. Dawson Turner's I was gratified 
 with countless volumes of books and MSS. 
 
87 
 
 filling many rooms in his large house, and even 
 crowding his wardrobe. He is a great collector 
 of curious writing, has the original receipt given 
 to Simmons by John Milton for the second five 
 pounds, price of Paradise Lost, also Elizabeth, 
 the widow's, receipt for the purchase of copy- 
 right on renewal. He has also Cowper's trans- 
 lation of Homer in a waste book of C's father. 
 He gave two hundred and forty dollars for as 
 many letters, probably not one of importance, 
 by Napoleon. To Norwich I returned by 
 steamboat. 
 
 ^th. I am now, Thursday evening, writing 
 in Boston, having come in a coach before dinner 
 from Norwich seventy miles, leaving at seven 
 A.M. Is it not wonderful that on nth August 
 I should walk about Boston streets, and see no 
 mortal I know ? The sense of loneliness seems 
 greater than ever. 
 
 Evening must not draw her curtains around 
 me, before telling how successful I have been 
 in an object of great interest to M. O. Gushing. 
 Last evening I put in the Post Office a letter, at 
 sufficient length, to Revd. Mr. Verburgh of New 
 Sleaford to inquire about descendants of Leon- 
 ard Brown, a captain in his Majesty's army, 
 who was wounded at Bunker Hill fight 17 June 
 
88 
 
 1775 ^^^ afterwards married Elizabeth, daugh- 
 ter of James Otis. But this morning Mr. 
 Staniland, to whom I brought a letter from 
 London, mentioned his acquaintance with Leon- 
 ard Brown of Pinchbeck, near Spalding, Es- 
 quire by Com. (pray make Spalding, the coal 
 merchant, supply our winter's stock without 
 delay), who was, he thought from Sleaford, 
 and over sixty years of age. He of course was 
 adjudged by us the son of the propositus , and 
 particularly because he was domineered over 
 by his mother, after father's death, and had only 
 within a short time married his housekeeper 
 or cook, and had no children. So we went to 
 another lawyer, who had abstract of title of 
 estate, in which Leonard the father, and Eliza- 
 beth his wife join in conveying estate at Slea- 
 ford, which had been ninety years then, April 
 1799, in family. So there can be no doubt, 
 and I write him a full and judicious letter about 
 his grandfather, aunt, cousins and second 
 cousins and ask favor of reply with minuteness. 
 Of course he will be shorter, but we shall know 
 from himself, how the stock of Otis expires here. 
 Good night. 
 
 The only stopping place now between here 
 
89 
 
 and Edinburgh is Harrogate, and that can only 
 be for one twenty-four hours, unless the weather 
 be bad. Next Saturday I hope to reach ^^ auld 
 Reekie.'^ I can tell what has been done, better 
 than anticipate what will be. Yet my progress, 
 if health continues exuberant as it has been, 
 must allow me to get your next and acknowledge 
 it from some spot on the other side of the island, 
 nearer Liverpool, on my way to London. In 
 less than three months (and it is almost four 
 since we parted) I shall give you again the em- 
 brace of the truly affectionate 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 York, 17 August, 1842. 
 To Judge Gushing. 
 
 Dear Cushingy — Yesterday, on reaching this 
 city, where the Assizes are now holding by Ld. 
 C. J. Denman, and of course all is in hurry 
 and crowd, I sitting in my room to keep pos- 
 session until ready to move safely in a coach 
 for a quieter place, your letter of i Aug. was 
 found, having been forwarded on 13th from 
 Liverpool by my exact friend Sam. S. Gair. 
 
 In the great article of public news, about the 
 
90 
 
 negotiations between Lord Ashburton and our 
 Government, I rejoice, with joy almost inex- 
 pressible, at the reports. Can it be that equity 
 and common sense shall triumph in that ad- 
 justment of the boundary question ? My fears 
 will not be banished, until the ratification by 
 our Senate is obtained. You employ the same 
 argument, that I used two months ago and more 
 to many English friends, that the affair, if con- 
 cluded to the satisfaction of Mass. and Maine, 
 claimants of the locus in quo, could not be dis- 
 arranged by any other State, however skilful 
 the intrigues. But I confess my apprehensions, 
 that the desire to spite and thwart Webster may 
 be too strong, if the Treaty involve any other 
 interest. Two, three or more, different, treaties 
 or conventions must, I suppose be needed to 
 include all the matters in controversy, and 
 leave no possibility of rejection of the most im- 
 portant. All who wish to keep open a quarrel 
 with Great Britain must condole at the honor- 
 able settlement of the boundary. In this coun- 
 try the desire for accommodation is great and 
 almost universal. Ashburton must rise two, 
 if not three, pegs in the peerage for its accom- 
 plishment; and Sir Robert, who is a wonderfully 
 judicious statesman, as well as politician, must 
 
91 
 
 strengthen his administration with the two 
 houses, as he has already estabHshed it in the 
 affections of the people. 
 
 Edinburgh, 20th. 
 
 Up to yesterday, when soon after noon I 
 crossed the Tweed, the weather had continued 
 exceedingly hot for G. B. but no matter of com- 
 plaint to me. My journey was rapid from 
 Harrogate for coaches, to this imperial, stone 
 built city. Tell Wm. H. Gardiner, I performed 
 the pious duty of taking a drive over to the vil- 
 lage churchyard, where his father's corpse was 
 reposited, and copied the inscription on the 
 grave stone. 
 
 The abundance of stone in happy proximity 
 to this city will account for the extraordinary 
 number of monuments and statues here. These 
 are for D. Hume, D. Stewart, W. Pitt, Lord 
 Melville, Lord Nelson, Burns, George IV., 
 Duke of York, Sir Walter is now rising, and the 
 Queen is talked of. All the surrounding land, 
 water, still or rapid, mountain, dell, precipice, 
 ravine, meadow, is, you know, made of value 
 by the great enchanter, and well does this cap- 
 ital and this kingdom show its gratitude. Of 
 necessity, on passing a very few miles North 
 of the Tweed, the impression of poverty in the 
 
92 
 
 land is forced on you. No passing of wains 
 over the bleak moors, no hope of harvest from 
 the rugged side of the Pentland hills, must be 
 the observation of every traveller from the bound- 
 less treasures of the English fields; and even 
 well looking young women, from whom you 
 would not expect supplication for charity, and 
 who think no more of making such request than 
 the ^^pock pudding^ who jeers them, are seen 
 without stockings and shoes. 
 
 22nd. For the first time since landing in Eng- 
 land, I have been a few hours unwell, probably 
 from taking cold on Saturday, possibly from 
 some preserved ginger, or other nonsense forced 
 on me by the over-flowing hospitality of him 
 at whose house I dined that day. I went to 
 church yesterday in the forenoon, and had the 
 old fashioned, artificial, theology of the un- 
 shrinking church of Scotland poured into me 
 enough to last for a month. 
 
 2yh. Stirling; under protection of the royal 
 tower of Stirling, did I sleep last night. On 
 Tuesday I was pleased enough to reach the 
 once royal capital of Perth, but more pleased 
 to find at half past twelve a letter at the Post 
 Office, written the day before from my inter- 
 
93 
 
 esting young friend Miss Robertson, the eldest 
 of the three daughters, who, with their father, 
 accompanied my passage from New York. 
 She entreated me to see her before leaving P. 
 and as my sole object in coming thither was 
 the same, she was not disappointed. With 
 her, and her sister, my sweet Mrs. Conynghame 
 (though your wife will not be so well pleased 
 with the spelling of the name, as she would be 
 with the shop keeper's opposite to my present 
 lodgings) I spent some hours in the parts of 
 two days. 
 
 2Jth. Glasgow is too shockingly commer- 
 cial for me, fatigued with the luxury of rural 
 beauty and the more exhausting magnificence 
 of mountain lochs and glens. But it would 
 do in my quiet back room to give some of the 
 details of my living a month in one twenty four 
 hours, from Thursday after reaching the Tros- 
 achs to Friday afternoon, when we took leave 
 of Loch Lomond. Jamie came to my mind, 
 when at Callendar, ten miles below the gates 
 of the Highlands, a pedlar offered a small col- 
 lection of poetry for a penny, and the first thing 
 that caught my eye was the Star of Bethlehem. 
 Had any good consistency of the other contents 
 prevailed, I would have brought home the 
 
94 
 
 pamphlet, but much was naught. I was cas- 
 ually thrown at the Trosach Inn into an op- 
 portunity for most agreeable society upon 
 Loch Katrin, across the rugged pass to the 
 Loch Lomond, upon and down that and the 
 run up the noble Clyde. A young Irish gentle- 
 man, John Chanley, was partaker of my cock- 
 loft, and on Friday morning I found he had 
 charge of three young ladies, one his aunt, 
 two sisters, of whom one was married, but 
 Miss Maiy Cora Chanley would answer for 
 the Lady of the Lake very well. I had 
 charge of the helm, and we had a shower 
 for half of the lake and clouds, not distressing 
 however, for residue; but most agreeable tem- 
 perature for our traversing on ponies the five 
 miles that divide these two sister lakes. Think 
 of me on the top of a horse's back, doing the 
 amiable for Miss Cora, until a more agreeable 
 young Frenchman relieved her and me, and the 
 rest of the land route gave me conversation 
 with her brother and the other two ladies. 
 Our whole party was twenty four, and on the 
 greater lake increased to more than double. 
 What man has ever been so fortunate in his 
 writings as Scott t Five and thirty years ago 
 his fame stood well on the Lay of the Last 
 
95 
 
 Minstrel, but Marmion, with all its animation, 
 which indeed is wonderful, began to draw out 
 the critics against the triviality of the measure, 
 and the author admitted his chance to be small 
 of living long, yet could not escape from the 
 "fatal facility of the octosyllabic verse." But 
 the language that would have ruined him is 
 consecrated by the manner of its employment. 
 It is the scenery that saved and will forever 
 preserve Sir Walter. He has the happiness 
 of fixedness in the affections of his country- 
 men; and the fibres of his popularity are sent 
 through every cleft of the rocks in all the ravines 
 of Ben Ledi, Ben An, Ben Venu, Ben Lomond 
 and Ben Voirlich. His harp will be musical, 
 while the waters of Loch Katrin, Loch Ven- 
 nachar and a hundred other mountain reser- 
 voirs are undrained. It is quite amusing to 
 hear the half savage people telling for old his- 
 toric truths what was invented by this modern; 
 and indeed the larger part of authentic narra- 
 tive for the Northern kingdom had better be 
 forgotten. The nation will gain from the poet's 
 tales ten fold more reputation than from the 
 ferocity of their chivalry in politics or religion. 
 No small remains of the old covenanting spirit 
 exists to this hour; and this very week I was 
 
96 
 
 reading in one of the daily papers vehement 
 exhortations against the Erastian tendency of 
 recent decisions in Courts of Law. The church 
 established is perhaps less certain to be an es- 
 tablished church than John Knox anticipated. 
 The same element that, in our country, occa- 
 sionally makes mischief, here does it perpet- 
 ually, when the patron makes nomination that 
 does not suit the power loving portion of the 
 clergy. Division is fomented in the parishes, 
 and perhaps the day may speedily come, when 
 the voluntary principle will prevail. 
 
 I have reached Ayr, the home of Robert 
 Burns, to whose honor is a monument on the 
 banks of the Doon some three miles from town, 
 that may not be seen until I travel again on 
 Monday. 
 
 You may see or hear much of the strikes, 
 or outbreaks of colliers or other laborers. But 
 be sure of this, it all amounts to nothing. Chart- 
 ism is still lower, or less than nothing. The 
 two follies are antagonisms, and like Kilkenny 
 cats will destroy each other. To pretend to 
 expect the Charter, and to say we will do no 
 work until the charter is obtained, is as wild 
 as to believe we can go, without food, until it 
 rains roasted ducks, with boiled potatoes, and 
 
97 
 
 cranberry sauce to accompany. I found last 
 evening at Glasgow agreeable intelligence, by 
 Great Western, from home, also some more 
 evidence of folly at Washington. Perhaps the 
 evil of the Treasury and the Babel confusion 
 about Tariff are necessary preliminaries to 
 secure the ratification of the Treaty. A short 
 misery for long good is a fair purchase how- 
 ever. But Captain Tyler must have a patent 
 for blunders. 
 
 I Sept. Dumfries. Day before yesterday 
 at Kirkcudbright, whither I went to see two 
 ladies, fellow passengers in crossing the ocean 
 last spring (see first letter to my wife), the 
 pleasure of receiving your No. 8 of i6 Aug. 
 postmarked Liverpool 28th was enjoyed. All is 
 agreeable, except your scolding so about politics, 
 which is a prevention of my doing the same 
 thing. For your blunder in not endorsing the 
 bill of Exchange you will have a rap, no doubt, 
 from Cavan brothers, but as the second part 
 has come safe, I shall be indifferent about call- 
 ing to see if my indorsement would be useful. 
 Perhaps I may look in on them before 
 London. This trifling over-sight you will 
 never forget. I have made up my mind, since 
 my wife is grown so liberal as to hope I may 
 
98 
 
 Stay here over the winter, that, if my work can 
 be possibly crowded through by i Octor. at 
 London, the steamer of 4th shall bring me home. 
 It is a far better chance than that of 19th as it 
 is from new moon to full. So look for my 
 dining in Temple Place on Tuesday i8th. Of 
 course no more letters will be written to me, 
 after receipt of this. 
 
 2nd, Carlisle received me last evening an 
 hour and more after sunset; and this one meagre 
 letter was begun in England and will be fin- 
 ished in the same blessed land. More time I 
 ought to have given to this land of liberty and 
 romance; but I could not spare it, and the 
 preparations for the Queen's visit were crowd- 
 ing every thing out of the way. In the wider 
 realm there is room enough for her Majesty 
 and myself at once. Let not your wife, more 
 than my wife, think themselves forgotten, for 
 this afternoon I have come to Ambleside, on 
 the splendid Lake Winandermere, and must 
 therefore bring to remembrance our Winni- 
 pisioche, which it in some considerable degree 
 resembles. Appropriate diversity entitle each 
 to claim admirers. Here, probably, is less clear 
 sky in a year, than at our lake in a month; but 
 then the poetical horizon, if narrower, is much 
 
99 
 
 more glorious from the contest between sun and 
 cloud forever kept up. Before going to bed, 
 I will tell you of walking a mile and a half up 
 to see Mr. Wordsworth, and back in a very 
 dark road, within hearing of rippling of two, 
 three or more streams, and dashing of one 
 twenty feet perpendicular, perhaps from a mill 
 tail. He has talked about every thing, even 
 refusal of community of copyright, but with 
 great moderation. His wife is a picture of an 
 old lady. At their house was Mrs. Hill, the 
 minister's wife, daughter of Southey, the poet, 
 historian, &c. Her poor father is very nearly 
 gone with paralysis. It will do just as well to 
 seal this letter now, as to put in another date 
 tomorrow morning and have the ambition of 
 giving the last minute. Tell Judge Davis to- 
 morrow evening I hope to see Revd. J. Hut- 
 chinson, and next Thursday be at London. 
 
 Truly yours, 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 
 To HIS Wife. 
 
 London, 8 Sept., 1842. 
 
 My dear Wife, — Last evening brought me 
 safe again to this city of refuge and rest, that 
 
lOO 
 
 is of real employment without distraction. 
 You have the advantage of my first use of ink 
 here, because it is stormy, and I will not go to 
 the State Paper Office, under Lord Aberdeen's 
 jurisdiction, to copy old curious MSS. which 
 is my earliest work to be attended to. Last 
 evening, in an hour after my reaching the house 
 at sunset, came on a thunder storm, and this 
 morning, though bright, the wind blew so 
 high, it was plain that it would not continue 
 pleasant. While it rains I can wait, and had you 
 seen the letters, more than a dozen, waiting my 
 arrival, you would presume my pen must fly fast. 
 
 This day last week you got, I hope, my de- 
 spatch from York as two days earlier I received 
 yours, acknowledged in the letter to Gushing, 
 that can hardly attain to Boston post oflftce 
 before next Sunday week, i8th Inst. 
 
 What a miserable slight memento must my 
 journal afford of the delights that attended me 
 in the few hours of my excursion to Loch Kat- 
 rin, Loch Lomond and much other scenery 
 in Scotland, and the more hurried visit to Wi- 
 nandermere. Since I began writing, the Post 
 brings me a letter from Wordsworth to renew 
 my recollection of the two or three hours con- 
 versation with him. But then you must take 
 
lOI 
 
 the few pages, and whenever you please require 
 me to make any five Hues a text, and preach 
 a whole sermon on it. Your letter of 15th 
 proposes to me to remain here over a win- 
 ter. But then that is a joke. You could 
 not be serious. Why, it would kill me to 
 stay to the end of November, in such weather 
 as I know, by the sample of to-day, they 
 have in abundance here. Either by steamer 
 of 4th or that of 19th next month I come, 
 and by the earliest, if my work can be got 
 through with, and health continue, of which 
 in ten days when my letter must be closed, 
 opportunity of speaking with confidence must 
 be enjoyed. Meanwhile, let me charge you, 
 within one day after getting this, to begin (with 
 asking opinions of Eliza, Emma and Harriet 
 if you think them entitled to give any) to make 
 up a list of readings for us in the library, prose 
 and poetry, to begin in two evenings after my 
 return. This should be put down in writing, 
 for it is doing nothing, not to do this. A trag- 
 edy of Shakspeare, a poem of Milton, or Pope, 
 or Gray, or Scott, a series of Essays, or a tale 
 of Sir Walter, may be recollected, when the 
 time comes; but not the regular sequence for 
 all our long winter evenings, that may as well 
 
I02 
 
 begin 20 Octor. as 20 Novr. or Deer. I feel also 
 very desirous that the youngest hope may be 
 at work upon what must come soon, his Latin; 
 and I would give him some assistance every 
 morning before school, or evening after it, for 
 half an hour. My plan is, to live better next 
 winter than last, that is to spend more time at 
 home, less at Savings Bank, or in the Insurance 
 Office. At least I am resolved to take more 
 exercise than I was generally accustomed to, 
 for here I make nothing of three, four or five 
 miles per day walking, and such was an allow- 
 ance for a week at home. 
 
 12 Sept. 
 
 Whether in my last letter to Gushing any 
 thing was said of my Kirkcudbright friends I 
 do not recollect; but of Perth friends I was 
 copious enough according to my memory. 
 Now it is a great satisfaction to say, that today 
 has come a note from Miss Robertson, in an- 
 swer to one I wrote at Dumfries giving her re- 
 sult of my exploration at K. She announces 
 material improvement in her father's condition, 
 and the return from the Highlands of her two 
 sisters, and the sight of the Queen, who has 
 made a most exhilarating exhibition to her 
 loyal subjects in the North. 
 
I03 
 
 15 Sept. 
 To Judge Gushing. 
 
 Dear Gushing, — Write by first mail to George 
 A. Uland, Esquire, New York, that I had here 
 last week, on returning from Scotland, his 
 letter of 29 July covering one to Lord Lynd- 
 hurst; having some days before got, on the road, 
 his advice of 11 August; — that I gave diligent 
 heed to the matter, and charmed with the hope 
 of truth from his intended publication, and 
 inclosed his address to the Lord Chancellor 
 in a short, and politic one of my own last Mon- 
 day, of which he shall have copy on my reach- 
 ing home; — that yesterday came the letter of 
 Mr. Low of Brooklyn, which was not needed 
 to spur my zeal, — that I hear yet no word 
 from Lord L. and never did expect to, but 
 have no time to write him so fully as I must 
 when that pleasure shall be permitted to me. 
 
 Your letters always satisfy me in every par- 
 ticular, and especially that received today, in 
 its suggestions about drawing foreign capital 
 to our investments. For me it is neither feas- 
 ible, expedient, nor agreeable, the latter failing 
 to such a degree, that probably I should blow 
 my brains out on hearing from a poor sufferer 
 his taunts at the good faith of private and pub- 
 
I04 
 
 lie men heretofore trusted on the Western side 
 of the ocean. Pennsylvania disgrace diffuses 
 through all Europe the stench of our infamy. 
 Rather let us beg them not to trust, to give 
 double the punishment to any person commit- 
 ting any crime who comes from U. S. and to 
 turn up their noses at all promising projects for 
 making towns, opening mines and such things 
 as have for years been offered. General Duff 
 Green has been five months here, willing to 
 sell some portion or the whole of such a coal, 
 or iron, deposit, perhaps both, as the like was 
 never heard of. Economy can easily bring 
 our country up, though it would be good to 
 have some honesty for an ingredient in the re- 
 storative. You are not the earliest proposer 
 of a slight change in the name of immortal John 
 Harvard, but it does no good. How could his 
 neighbors and the contemporaries, of clergy 
 and General Court, mistake the sound? How 
 can I mistake the handwriting, plain as your 
 own, almost, signed twice at the University, 
 on taking the degrees, respectively .? Much I 
 get, however, from your words, "Excon or 
 Admor and successor in the ministry, Revd. 
 T. Allen,'' and your suggestions will rule me, 
 but I can give you no more of my wife's place. 
 
los 
 
 To HIS Wife. 
 
 \"jth. Dear Wife, — Last evening we, three,* 
 dined at Mr. Wm. Vaughan's, the uncle of 
 Miss S. V. He is an old bachelor, but will not 
 be ninety years old before next Thursday, and 
 is much indebted to you for your attentions 
 to his niece. You must not complain of my 
 taking up so much of your letter by business 
 directions to Gushing, as in the last parcel from 
 home there is not a word from you. But I do 
 not complain, knowing that you were too busy, 
 and being so well pleased with what Emma 
 and Lucy, and especially Eliza wrote. Tell 
 Molly I have got another letter from her cousin 
 Leonard Brown, Esquire. 
 
 You can hardly conceive of the wonderful 
 weather (for England) that has been enjoyed 
 this season. It is said to be twenty years since 
 so fine a season was known. Abundance I 
 can judge of by the show of fruit in the streets, 
 and the goodness by eating. Pears, this year, 
 exactly like our Bartlett's, are common, and 
 the cries are, of course for other kinds, twelve 
 a penny, and the next man yelled sixteen for 
 a penny. What bargains our Lucy would 
 
 * John Hillard and wife. 
 
io6 
 
 make, if Emma gives a true account of her 
 trading capacity. 
 
 The letter to Judge Davis, v^hich I send 
 open, that you may see how some of my time 
 passes, and how easily I make friends, must 
 be sealed and sent as soon as you can. Today 
 I go to dine with a gentleman, John Thornton, 
 to whom Wordsworth gave me a letter of in- 
 troduction, for the special purpose of seeing 
 a treasure in possession of one of his neighbors, 
 that, if successful, you shall know about in my 
 addition next Monday, before the post closes. 
 
 19 Sept. Monday. Here is, my dear, the last 
 writing that you can receive from me in England, 
 as I hope, for my passage is directed to be taken 
 in the Britannia. She is the vessel that brought 
 us the blessed news last week and therefore may 
 be considered a fortunate one, though her 
 passages have not been so short, by a few hours, 
 as one or two of the others have made. In 
 thirty days from this I shall hope to embrace 
 you, and that will be, probably, in fifteen from 
 the hour you can read it. If we are happy 
 enough to reach home on Wednesday, 19 Octor., 
 the corps of the Cadets, of Governor's Guards, 
 at least will celebrate my return,'for that is their 
 anniversary; and the younger children may. 
 
I07 
 
 if the day be fair, enjoy the sight and the music, 
 if they can not see or hear father. But on 
 Saturday I promised to tell about my curiosity 
 at the dinner. Well, then, the dinner was 
 very agreeable in more important matter than 
 turbot and venison; but as to the writing of 
 Charles I. saving the reverence due to his 
 "discrowned head," and the sympathy, which 
 the rough managers of his taking off, by the 
 infamous machinery of their High Court of 
 Justice, excites in all readers, who justly ap- 
 preciate the English Constitution, the value is 
 very slight. As relics honorable to the trust- 
 worthiness of the servant who received them 
 from his royal master, they are valuable to 
 descendants direct or collateral. The line of 
 Finebrace, or Finebrasse, is now extinct. That 
 was the name of the true hearted domestic; 
 and now the curiosities belong to one of the house 
 of Argyle, descendant of a Duke that suffered 
 for treason against the son of same Charles. 
 So changes the world. As you give me no 
 commands about buying any thing, but silver 
 forks, and John says, they may as well be got in 
 Boston as here, I shall bring you nothing but 
 the stockings. For little Mary I have bought 
 two whistles for one penny, she being a devotee 
 
io8 
 
 of music. It would be very agreeable to me 
 to buy anything for the children, but really I 
 have no faculty of guessing what would be agree- 
 able; and unless I make Harriet L. Hillard my 
 agent to select, nothing would came. Prob- 
 ably they will be sufficiently rejoiced to see me, 
 without any thing to serve as play things. At 
 least it seems to me, the gratification would be 
 enough for 
 
 Yours ever 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 To HIS Daughter Emma, the wife of Prof. 
 William Barton Rogers. 
 
 Boston, 29 June, 1849, Evening. 
 Well, my dear child, having marked out al- 
 most day by day your course and distance in 
 crossing the wide sea of which now nine days 
 are wholly gone, I presume you are this hour, 
 and if the sky be fairer with you than with us, 
 this moment in sight of the coast of Ireland, or 
 the lighthouse at its Southern extremity. It 
 could not be that you failed to know something 
 of seasickness on the day after you left Boston, 
 though the ocean were as smooth as his face 
 could possibly be made. Yet before sunset my 
 
I09 
 
 calculation carried you into the glorious harbour 
 of Halifax near about the same time that we 
 reached our house on Sunny Hill. 
 
 The roses had begun to show themselves at 
 our reaching the Hill and in four and twenty 
 hours there were as many as five hundred fully 
 blown. The coming forward of everything was 
 wonderfully rapid, though moisture was wanting 
 to all, and your mother seemed to know no end 
 to her service in watering them. I left home on 
 Wednesday morning to run into New Hamp- 
 shire to look after my Nashua property, and 
 came here in the evening. We have had six 
 cool days, ending with copious rain, which may 
 not yet be exhausted; and glad will be the earth 
 for the refreshment. I have not seen Mr. 
 Rogers, who went to New York, as I came here; 
 nor the Binneys, a single one of them, nor in- 
 deed any body else, except the Ticknors, and 
 their Anna has not yet returned from Geneseo, 
 and except Cousin George, nor even his wife. 
 My business engagements will hold me until 
 Monday afternoon, and then we will make a 
 full party, the Judge and his wife, Hillard 
 and his wife, perhaps Lizzy Ticknor, to get 
 get away from the crowd and noise of the popu- 
 lar celebration of fourth of July. We heard 
 
no 
 
 from Harriet, that she had a comfortable and 
 speedy run by steam carriage and steamship 
 to Kennebec; and may not fix her day of re- 
 turn. Dear Lucy after the first day of extreme 
 heat on our hill began to show marks of im- 
 provement on following the Doctor's advice 
 about working in the garden before breakfast, 
 and trying the saddle horse towards sunset. 
 I hope to find, though the hope is less confi- 
 dent, a degree of improvement in your Aunt 
 Hillard, proportionate to the difference between 
 our pure mountain circulation and the con- 
 fined breezes of the city. Here I break off, in 
 the promise of adding a few syllables, before 
 going home. 
 
 Sunday, i July. 
 Having a world of business to attend to to- 
 morrow yet resolute to return to our dear hill 
 top in the afternoon, I must now give you a few 
 moments. Yesterday afternoon's Eastern mail 
 brought your dear pencil scratches at the foot 
 of Mr. Rogers' note, written almost nine days 
 before. So we must make a change in our 
 calculations as to the prosperity of your voyage. 
 But a few hours must not be reckoned of much 
 consequence, especially in the voyage towards 
 the island of the blessed. Instead of being on 
 
Ill 
 
 shore this day, you will be to-morrow, as was 
 my frst calculation, before giving way to the 
 ardour of Mr. Henry Rogers, which burned 
 up all interposing fogs. Twelve days are few 
 enough. 
 
 Make your husband know how perfectly 
 satisfied I am, that my daughter may rely on 
 him, if his health be confirmed, for all the tender- 
 ness of her mother, and the protection of a 
 father that heretofore has always been bestowed 
 on her. What he shall devise for improvement 
 of his lungs or larynx, he may not beneficially 
 carry into act without your concurrence, I well 
 understand, for a new married man is unable 
 to resist the caprice of a wife that might expose 
 him in evening air, or the petty perils of travel- 
 ling. Confidently do I feel, that he will be in 
 no danger from your perversity either in wishing 
 to see that or avoid this object of common 
 curiosity; but I have much less confidence, 
 you may tell him, in his discretion. If he were 
 alone, (I wish not to speak extravagantly) it 
 would be worth double premium to insure his 
 life. The shocking faults, wide dikes, and 
 cruel traps in geology would be fivefold more 
 hazardous to him than to common man. 
 
 Remember, my dear child, you shall not be 
 
112 
 
 required to write more than one letter by every 
 steamer, but no less than one must be sent. 
 Yet we shall not be so selfish as to require that 
 the address be to your mother or myself, pro- 
 vided the receiver (whoever be the receiver) 
 give knowledge promptly of the news to your 
 aflFectionate 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Dr. Gannett preached all day on the relations 
 of the Society and himself for twenty five years, 
 and of course we all felt the deepest interest in 
 his statements, as whenever he refers to personal 
 concerns. Rev. Mr. Clarke is to embark in 
 the ship Plymouth Rock for Liverpool on 
 Thursday. 
 
 To Mrs. Rogers. 
 
 Boston, Tuesday Evening. 
 July 17—49— 
 
 My dear Child, — James came to us on Sat- 
 urday from school, and enters forthwith into 
 the appropriate enjoyment. Kate Hillard and 
 Mary's three children were all, under his direc- 
 tions, raking hay upon the lawn; and I had seen 
 his preparation, at the last moment before my de- 
 parture, for an attempt to take all the fish out 
 of the brook below or beyond Mr. Bayley's. 
 
113 
 
 The drought is so extensive that the brook is 
 wholly reduced to stagnate in spots favorable 
 to its continued existence. At the road below 
 Smailes's, it seems to me not a pint of water 
 ran in an hour. And the fish may as well give 
 up to his hook, as die of inanition. 
 
 It is not yet resolved, whether mother shall 
 go to the Eastward for a few weeks visit to 
 good old judge Lincoln, as I desire, or not. It 
 certainly must seem hardly possible, that we 
 could see him another year. Eighty -five is a 
 slippery year in a man's life; and even sixty jive 
 which I filled up last Friday (the hottest day, it 
 is said, for four and twenty years) makes ap- 
 peal for speedy finishing whatsoever his hands 
 find to do to. 
 
 Your aflFectionate father 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 I am at Ticknor's. His wife sends love to 
 you. 
 
 Lunenburg, 31 July, 1849. 
 To Mrs. Rogers. 
 
 My dear Child, — We were something dis- 
 appointed at receiving no letters from you by 
 the last of the steamer's line, arr. at New York 
 
114 
 
 on Friday last, but consoled ourselves with 
 the confidence of your writing for every Boston 
 one, and shall hope for her budget, if she comes 
 in day after to-morrow. Once only, as yet, 
 have we had advice of you in the blessed island 
 by Lucy's letter of i July, the day of your land- 
 ing at Liverpool and 6th at London. For that 
 letter coming in the Caledonia to Boston I 
 waited at B. until Friday afternoon in vain. 
 My visit was at Mr. Ticknor's and exceeding 
 pleasant, though Wednesday and Thursday 
 were chiefly spent at Cambridge, the early 
 Commencement. Everything appeared well at 
 Cambridge. 
 
 Your first words reached us, by express, on 
 Sunday morning before last, and most exhil- 
 arating they were to me, as reviving afresh the 
 scenery of that paradise. We shall entertain 
 fears, that a hurried visit to the Continent may 
 not by its interesting scenes or investigations 
 repay the discomforts and perils of the tour. 
 How deep seated the fever of rebellion may 
 be among the general population on the banks 
 of the Rhine, is not to be estimated by a curious 
 traveller; and at least his comfort will not be 
 increased, if his security is, by the banded 
 thousands of disciplined operators with scalpels 
 
115 
 
 in their hands to let blood on the slightest 
 alarm. 
 
 To-morrow we have promise of a visit from 
 Govr. Davis's son, Horace, a very nice youth, 
 who had his degree a fortnight ago at Cam- 
 bridge. We have been extremely quiet hitherto, 
 having not had a single visitor over night, ex- 
 cept Mary I. Cooper, who came up the day 
 after I went down, and spent five days. I 
 made exertion, when at Boston, to obtain vis- 
 itors, such as Mrs. Judge Warren and Miss 
 Otis, but Miss O. was gone to Newport, and 
 Mrs. W. afraid to come without her cousin, lest 
 Miss O. might not be willing to come alone after 
 return from Newport, also Mrs. Mills, who was 
 already with trunks packed to go to White 
 Hills with a party of Dr. Hayward and Ign. 
 Sargent and their wives. However each party 
 promises fairly. I have made appointment 
 to be in Boston two days on business, and then, 
 probably, to make up my projected excursion 
 to Passamaquoddy. It begins to be clear to 
 me, that your mother will not go. So, I think, 
 my visit will be without any attendant, and if 
 it be the latest to the good old patriarch at 
 Dennysville in his eighty-sixth year, as by the 
 usual course of nature may be presumed, it 
 
ii6 
 
 may be a gratification to think, after he is gone, 
 that the Summer preceding was gladdened by 
 my visit. My sister Cooper, too, may expect 
 return of her compHment of last year by giving 
 her a few hours; and from the growing years 
 of both of us, the chance is not great of ever 
 beholding each other more than once or twice, 
 again. I write not thus, because any infirmity 
 creeps over me. My health and spirits are 
 fully equal to last year's. With the ther- 
 mometer below 78 I should walk to the Post 
 Office and back, as well this year as in former 
 ones. In my work at the desk, not a minute 
 is given in each day less than last year. I doubt 
 if last year any day saw me so many hours stand- 
 ing, with my pen, as yesterday. It must have 
 been nine. But then it was too warm to go 
 out of doors before sunset, and yet a glorious, 
 elastic, dry air, that might almost teach any 
 sentient being to fly. 
 
 We hope, I had nearly forgotten, to get Dr. 
 Rogers here from Phila. next week. The 
 dread of the cholera is well over. It has been 
 a light visitation on our whole Atlantic shore. 
 New York and Brooklyn count up many deaths; 
 but they are large cities. In Boston the loss 
 has been less a week on an average, and not a 
 
117 
 
 dozen in any one. So it is little feared by the 
 generality, not at all by me. Aunt H. is as well 
 as any days these ten years. Good-bye, 
 
 Yours affectionately as ever, 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 
 Boston, 14 Aug. '49. 
 To Mrs. Rogers. 
 
 My dear Child, — ^Your letter of 26 ulto. from 
 Dunkeld came to us at Lunenburg, last Satur- 
 day morning, being less by some hours than a 
 fortnight from its leaving Liverpool. We are 
 very solicitous for arrival of your despatches, 
 because the second failed of its turn, having 
 official, ominous, words enstamped ^^too late,^ 
 so that it came by the steamer that brought us 
 advice from you a week later. We all pre- 
 sume you are now on the continent, but trust 
 in Providence and prudence to bring you safely 
 off. In the ship that carries this goes my friend 
 Jos. Coolidge to bring his boys from the land 
 of confusion or at least uncertainty, which 
 Germany may show her just claim to be reckoned. 
 
 When I wrote you a fortnight since, we ex- 
 pected a visit from young Davis, Horace, son 
 of the Governor that was. He was true to his 
 
ii8 
 
 engagement, and came to us on Wednesday by 
 the Railway from Worcester, and we kept him 
 until Friday evening, giving him the views about 
 us in a drive through the glen and other retired 
 roads on the first day before sunset; and on 
 Thursday having our party enlarged by Mr. 
 White * and his agreeable wife from Newton we 
 took the full glory of Pearl Hill. We retained 
 the youthful preacher and his lady until Satur- 
 day, as they had only to travel over to West 
 Townsend, and so onward to Peterborough, 
 where he was to preach on Sunday. After long 
 enduring drought, we obtained sufficient falls of 
 rain on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, being 
 the only thorough laying the dust has had since 
 last May. On Friday by middle train came 
 Dr. Rogers from Philadelphia and Eliz. S. Tick- 
 nor from Boston, and close prisoners had they 
 been kept, until I left them yesterday afternoon, 
 though Rogers got a drive with the Judge to 
 the Post Office after breakfast. No doubt, as 
 the clouds broke away kindly, when at half 
 past twelve I took my departure (being afraid 
 to wait for evening train, that is because an 
 hour and half later than last year to accom- 
 modate the up country travel) they got a 
 
 * The Revd. WilHam Orne White. 
 
119 
 
 good drive round about the valleys. Tomorrow 
 I expect to hear by Dr. Rogers, as he v^ill 
 come to attend the Scientific Assoc, at Cam- 
 bridge; and the next day I go to Quoddy to 
 see (probably for the last time) the excellent 
 Judge Lincoln, who, twenty years ago, was 
 so charmed with your teaching him in the 
 mockery of your four year old school keeping. 
 Now we begin to inquire, as to the time of 
 your return, and the manner. If your hus- 
 band feels punctilious by the necessity of being 
 home the middle of Octor. you must embark 
 at Liverpool 29 Sept. and the steamer for that 
 day is (unless we miscount) the Canada, that 
 has just now been reported to have made the 
 shortest of all runs from Boston — ten days. If 
 you exercise discretion in coming away from 
 the island of the blessed, and make about the 
 middle of Octor. to mean the time of depart- 
 ing, not of arrival, then you take the boat for 
 13 Octor. to come to Boston. Your husband 
 rules this matter. Pray let him call at No. 30. 
 Torrtngton Square on my excellent friend. Rev. 
 Joseph Hunter,"^ who may desire so good a 
 chance of sending me a small volume of his 
 writings. 
 
 * Noted antiquary. 
 
I20 
 
 I hope Harriet gave you story of our receiv- 
 ing on Sunday morning from H. Davis at 
 Worcester a box with v^onderful combination 
 of leaves and flowers arranged in the happiest 
 manner. He had much encouraged your 
 mother about planting from the great success 
 of his father on a far less promising soil than any 
 at Sunny Hill; and sent this evidence of his 
 affection for the growth around his dwelling 
 and of his regard for the kindness he had re- 
 ceived, as he said, at our hands. He is only 
 eighteen years of age, left the University last 
 month, in high rank on taking his degree. 
 
 15TH Aug. 
 Pray remember to see good Mrs. Rotch on 
 your return from Europe before leaving Lon- 
 don. Her daughter, Mrs. Farrar sent us 
 charming extract from her mother's letter about 
 you to delight 
 
 Your affectionate 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Sunny Hill, Sunday, 26 Aug. 
 
 To Mrs. Rogers. 
 
 Last night, my dear child, at nine o'clock, I 
 got home, having come from Eastport the after- 
 
121 
 
 noon before, and been only twenty-two hours 
 upon the steamboat, even with stopping to 
 leave passengers at Portland. My passage 
 down was equally favorable. 
 
 They were all delighted with seeing me, and 
 hearing of you, for your last letter, dated at 
 Windermere, 2 May, had been received by me 
 1 6th, four hours before embarking. Judge 
 Lincoln really looks younger than when I 
 passed a week with him two years ago. He 
 talked about you with much kindness, now in 
 his eighty sixth year. 
 
 It had not been in my contemplation, that 
 you would visit Winandermere (you curtailed 
 a syllable, as popularly speaking they always 
 do), or I would have given you a word of in- 
 troduction to good Mr. Wordsworth, who was 
 very kind to me, and to whom, by George Hil- 
 lard, I sent a copy of Emerson's Trees and 
 Shrubs of Mass. to keep up the memory of me. 
 On the continent I can afford you no passport, 
 having failed to make any visit there, and can say 
 I never saw Europe; but only its Queen island. 
 
 Coming from town so soon after landing 
 from my voyage, I heard very little, and it was 
 in the cars that the death of my excellent 
 friend, Rev. Dr. Pierce, was told to me. 
 
122 
 
 To-morrow your brother James goes down 
 to school, and we hope his loss will be made up 
 by letters from you to 
 
 Your affectionate father, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Sunny Hill. 
 2ND. Sept. 1849. 
 
 To Mrs. Rogers. 
 
 Your husband may be glad to learn, that 
 last week I passed the difficult bourne of letter 
 P. that was begun in May; and so turned again 
 to the work of transcription in letter B. which 
 is a more populous letter even than P. but of 
 which my hope is to see the end from this 
 house. Let my health continue in all respects 
 as now, and the two great masses of S. and W, 
 may be wholly swallowed and assimilated before 
 the end of 1850. It may be to several others in 
 England a far more interesting piece of news, 
 that Ticknor's third volume of the History of 
 Spanish Literature may be through the press 
 this month, though my report of his progress 
 is only of middle of July, when he was near the 
 end of second volume. 
 
 I am suddenly called to finish my scrawl, 
 
123 
 
 because the Judge has made up his mind to go 
 to Quoddy tomorrow. So, my dear Emma, I 
 shall not strain my eyesight to another word 
 than 
 
 Yours, 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 Boston, 4 March, 1850. 
 
 To Mrs. Rogers at the University of 
 Virginia. 
 
 My dear Emma, — ^Though it were not the re- 
 turn of the blessed day that gave you birth, twenty 
 six years ago, you would have a right to expect 
 remembrance by me, because my regard is to 
 be shown by telling how well I got home, as 
 projected, on Saturday evening. "Plenty time, 
 massa," was the frequent exclamation of the 
 black coachman, who took me from your house 
 at half past two on Thursday morning; and 
 his word proved true. We passed through 
 Charlottesville before the regular stage vehicle 
 was in motion, and waited half an hour for its 
 arrival after reaching the station, not depot, 
 for you know there was no building within a 
 mile of the spot, where the locomotive and its 
 attending baggage and passenger car, not cars, 
 
124 
 
 were standing, al fresco. When the coach from 
 town arrived, we counted nine passengers for 
 the train; but in our progress of seventy miles, 
 by various little alleys leading to plantations, 
 and by the little settlements of Gordonville 
 (I am not confident of the city's name) and 
 Louisa Court House, we were able to make up 
 twenty four or five. At the junction we got a 
 breakfast, and the Richmond tr-^in gave us 
 importance; though I became for the rest of 
 the day barely a way passenger, and so was 
 called on to pay more on the portion of the Rich- 
 mond to Washington, and thence to Baltimore, 
 line of cars, than if I had entered at Richmond 
 and paid through fare for the whole, instead of 
 paying twice for the less distance. 
 
 Passing Mount Vernon towards W. a smart 
 rain came upon us, and almost every body and 
 thing was wet on the landing, before the vehicles 
 could receive the great crowd going up to the 
 metropolis. The weather grew worse, which 
 was no dissatisfaction to me, for my purpose 
 would have been confirmed, if possible, by it, 
 that Baltimore should be my resting place. 
 If, as seemed probable at sunset, the rain would 
 change to snow, and the following morning be 
 very uncomfortable, I knew the starting from 
 
125 
 
 Washington, without breakfast, before sunrise, 
 would be a whole day's grief to me, and make a 
 late arrival at New York enough to break me 
 down. At the United States Hotel at B. I was 
 perfectly safe and quiet, got a good breakfast,, 
 in a bright sunshine, and genial atmosphere, 
 proceeded onwards in fine spirits to Philadelphia, 
 having most copious conversation with a gentle- 
 manly chaplain in the Navy, whose card bore 
 Rev. J. W. Newton; and there arrived a little 
 before three. I gave up thoughts of any dinner, 
 and found I could pass near half an hour at 
 Dr. James Rogers, saw only Rachel, William, 
 and the little girl. On board the boat before 
 half past four, immediately after starting we had 
 supper, and though our course was slow, I 
 found Mr. Hillard and Frank waiting for me 
 on the pier at a quarter before ten. The luggage 
 we bestowed at the Fulton ferry house, and I 
 got to your Aunt Hillard's before half after ten. 
 John was there, and Oliver who talked of setting 
 off for the West this morning. 
 
 We find the air is very much colder; and on 
 the way to and from church not the slightest 
 appearance of any thaw is perceptible. But it 
 must be taken into account that yesterday was, 
 all the day, covered with thin clouds, portending 
 
126 
 
 snow. However, after long dispute whether 
 today's wind should be N. E. or N. W. the even- 
 ing sun decided for fair weather, and we have 
 the thermometer down to lo, one report is 7. 
 By the vehemence of his action, Bevis* would 
 claim to be more glad to see me, than any other 
 being under my roof. One of his paws was in 
 my side pocket very quick, and when this had 
 been expelled, another claimed the place. 
 Your affectionate father, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Boston, i May, 1850. 
 
 To HIS Daughter at the University of 
 Virginia. 
 
 My dear Emmay — Will you inform your hus- 
 band, that he can do a kind thing by giving a 
 letter of introduction for our Massachusetts 
 Geologist, Edward Hitchcock, President of 
 Amherst College, who goes Wednesday after 
 next to England for his health ? He will attend 
 the scientific Association at the Edinburgh 
 meeting, beyond doubt, as I learn from the 
 gentleman who carries him, John Tappan, 
 Esq. Perhaps Mr. Rogers may think the emi- 
 
 i^^;" •; , . * The Neinrfoundland dog. 
 
127 
 
 nence of Dr. Hitchcock is such, that he must 
 have acquaintance with Murchison, Buckland, 
 Sedgwick and others, no less than Sir Charles 
 Lyell; but his modesty is greater than his 
 celebrity, and though he may have correspond- 
 ence, Mr. Tappan thinks, with Murchison, he 
 doubts if he has with any out of London. 
 Whether your husband has any knowledge 
 (private) of H. is of no manner of concern. He 
 is a diffident recluse, as our country divines too 
 commonly are; and will do no discredit to our 
 nation, if a fair opportunity is afforded. He 
 expects to see in Edinburgh the real figure of 
 one of the gigantic birds, whose footprints he 
 found so abundant at Turner's Falls. The 
 specimen was from New Zealand, and he hopes 
 it will stand near fifteen feet high. His happi- 
 ness would be a subject of envy to me, as it 
 arises from the delight of visiting England and 
 enjoying its intellectual society; but my turn 
 of operations of mind so widely differ from his, 
 that it would give me very slight pleasure to be a 
 partaker at the Edinburgh meeting. 
 
 Great satisfaction we all felt, and Lucy 
 especially, at the coming yesterday of Cousin 
 Mary C. Lincoln from Hingham. She will 
 remain with us for some time. 
 
128 
 
 Pray make my gratefuUest regards known 
 
 to Robert Rogers and his dear wife, and forget 
 
 not 
 
 Your affectionate, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg, 19 June, 1850. 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — Almost a fortnight has run 
 since your letter of 4th Inst, came to my hands, 
 and almost a week since we came up to Sunny 
 Hill. Well you can easily conceive what oc- 
 cupations filled these spaces. Not a half dozen, 
 nor half score, but half a hundred things must 
 be thought on before leaving town, and now we 
 find one or another was forgotten. Here we 
 have almost become domesticated. The same 
 glorious panorama, a more than usual vividness 
 of verdure, the lively breezes and the trans- 
 parent atmosphere are here as before. Who 
 are not here — is the perpetually intruding 
 thought, especially at morning and evening 
 assemblies of the household. Shall the setting 
 out of trees be attended to ? Your dear mother* 
 will not watch their growth, and rejoice in the 
 
 *Mrs. Savage died Jan., 1850. 
 
129 
 
 shade. What care need be given to fruits or 
 flowers ? Lucy * will not find her Hfe in either. 
 But you must not suppose, that my hours are 
 gloomy. Busily I work all the time at my 
 genealogies, and so forget the present in hunting 
 relationships of the long past. My occupation 
 was never so agreeable to me, because never so 
 successful in getting at results. 
 
 Probably Mary f or Harriet Holway has 
 given you everything that could be news of 
 this neighborhood. Improvement is quite per- 
 ceptible. Cunningham has built his barn, 
 longer even than last year projected. It ex- 
 ceeds any in town. Our nearest neighbor on 
 the top of our hill (his name is, I believe, Hut- 
 chinson) has put up a handsome barn too; 
 and Mr. Low (his father-in-law) in a strait line 
 back of us, quarter of a mile distant, has built 
 a smart house. My peach trees promise you 
 some fruit, and the apples talk of having a 
 show. But I can add no more, than hopes of 
 seeing you within three weeks. I mean to send 
 your husband in ten days a check for money 
 enough to bear your expenses in coming; and 
 
 * His youngest daughter Lucy died in May, 1850. 
 ■[• Wife of Judge Gushing. 
 
I30 
 
 pray make your nearest neighbor, Robert and 
 his wife, understand what pleasure they could 
 give at Sunny Hill, perhaps receive a little. 
 The trouble of journey from Philadelphia here 
 is not half equal to that from Charlottesville 
 to Richmond. If health be the object of motion, 
 why here we lavish it all abroad; and one day 
 is equal in repair of lungs and general exhilara- 
 tion to a fortnight's breathing at Philadelphia 
 or any spot within fifty miles of it. 
 
 Bless you, my dear Emma, and remember 
 that he who blesses is 
 
 Your father, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 Boston, Dec. ii, 1850. 
 
 To HIS Son-in-Law, Wm. B. Rogers at the 
 University of Virginia. 
 
 My dear Son, — Now for my dear Emma 
 I must say a few words. Geo. S. Hillard's 
 lecture at opening of the young men's Mer- 
 cantile Library for the season was admirable, 
 and the attention of a crowded assembly in our 
 largest (Tremont Temple) hall, was not for an 
 instant diverted from him. It was on the duties, 
 
131 
 
 honors, rewards, trials, temptations of the youth- 
 ful merchant. It could not have been more suc- 
 cessful. 
 
 Bevis is not sent away to exile, but Mary keeps 
 him at her house, very well contented, much 
 more so than Grip * is with us. But James 
 hopes to sell G. and if he can, B. must come 
 back. Two are rather more than a town house 
 is fit for. In the country, they did perfectly, 
 but they are too noisy in their play for our 
 quiet neighborhood. 
 
 You must not write as if you were anxious 
 about my working too hard. In the library, I 
 spend few hours a day, not above six, for I do 
 not trust myself to write by lamps over an hour 
 a day on the average; and the days are so short, 
 and that room so cold, that I will not begin to 
 work on my register until the fire has been three 
 or four hours alight. So I go abroad in the 
 evenings, good five of the seven; and give some 
 hours to reading; yet every day add a line or 
 two, but not much more. Visitors are very 
 numerous, wishing to see what I have gathered 
 about their forefathers, and letters, you know, 
 come from such men as Mr. Judd, or ladies as 
 Miss Calkins, which will by their voluminous 
 
 * The Scotch terrier. 
 
132 
 
 matter require no short time to read, much 
 longer to condense and confirm, and no Httle 
 time to reply unto. Seldom do I get home from 
 Insurance office and Bank before noon; and 
 then surely it is not but two hours to dinner; 
 after dinner we have sunlight but one and a 
 half hours. As yet I perceive no failure in 
 eyesight of the slightest degree. Still it is not 
 safe to try the organ by writing in lamp light, 
 and much less is so employed than in read- 
 ing. 
 
 We begin to feel secure as to national politics. 
 No doubt there are a few here, who knowing 
 nothing of the degradation from which the U. S. 
 Constitution raised us, might run the risk of 
 dashing that to pieces to gratify their exclusive 
 philanthropy, that is philanthropy, excluding all 
 of mankind but slaves; and very many would 
 be led astray by those few. These are com- 
 pelled to acknowledge, that the doctor's medicine 
 had better be taken than die of the disease. 
 But we have full enough ready to reject the only 
 medicine, though the majority have wisely taken 
 alarm. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
133 
 
 Boston, 3 March '51. 
 To Mrs. Rogers. 
 
 My dear Child, — James' term at College has 
 begun, and so my little variety at home is 
 lessened. But my library is as happy a place 
 as ever, because I am more dependent on its 
 attraction. Re-examination is, indeed, almost 
 the sole employment, for my work has got in 
 advance over blank paper not above one page 
 since last October; but interlineations make 
 many new pages, and many also are deformed 
 by erasures. Lunenburg is the place for ap- 
 parent progress; in Boston, besides my social 
 engagements, and numerous calls of business 
 abroad, very numerous inquiries and commu- 
 nications about matters of local history or 
 genealogy demand attention some times for 
 one hour, not seldom for one day or one week. 
 But progress is really made, though it may not 
 always be apparent. Yet my exact design may 
 not be fulfilled before I die. With five years 
 unbroken health I could finish it; but then a 
 license must be secured for a supervision of 
 Winthrop's History, if it be called for. 
 
 Your Aunt Bruce,* who filled her eighty third 
 year three weeks since, come tomorrow, was 
 
 * A sister of Mr. Savage. 
 
134 
 
 very well, as I heard, last week. But why she 
 should not live to ninety three, nobody can 
 assign a shadow of reason. 
 
 Now let me close with hoping, that four 
 months from today you may be able to come 
 once more to the arms of 
 
 Your affectionate father 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Boston, 3 March '51. 
 
 To Prof. Wm. B. Rogers, at the Univer- 
 sity OF Virginia. 
 
 My dear Son, — We shall outlive the 
 
 trouble of the fugitive slave law. To enforce 
 it in Massachusetts will not be difficult, except 
 in certain inland parts, where the occurrence of 
 a seizure of a case is unlikely to occur, except 
 in a fictitious one, I mean, where the master 
 would rather prefer failure. 
 
 Your Virginia question of representative 
 basis is a very hard one to settle. A contest 
 for power between two sides ought to be 
 closed by a compromise, and such must be the 
 result in this dispute. Let one side predomi- 
 nate in the Senate, and the other in the more 
 popular branch. Such was our adjustment in 
 
135 
 
 old times in Massachusetts. Such was the ter- 
 mination of the relative powers under the Fed- 
 eral Constitution. 
 
 For your stock of Pennsylvania five per cents, 
 95 is too good a price to refuse. They would 
 not run so high, were it not for the desire to 
 send abroad instead of specie, or bills of Ex- 
 change at 10 and ^ advance on nominal par. 
 Massachusetts fives are 5 per cent, advance. 
 So they all go to England, while City of Boston 
 fives are only lyi though for absolute security 
 the city is really better, as every man is held 
 for payment of principal and interest, and his 
 merchandise, or other property may be taken by 
 process of law, if City declines or delays to 
 make payment; while against the Common- 
 wealth nothing but honor can be appealed to. 
 
 For income, certainly, a dozen or twenty 
 investments superior to government stocks occur 
 daily. Money is in such good demand, that 
 the best Railroad shares to give 7 per cent, are 
 attainable below par, and those which must 
 give eight, are sold from six to ten advance, 
 with expectation, of course, of nine or ten per- 
 fect dividends to come off in a year or two or 
 three. 
 
 I rejoice in the prosperity of your University, 
 
136 
 
 whose catalogue, which Emma sent me, counts 
 up 374 students. 
 
 Pray assure your brother and his wife of 
 the kindest remembrance of all their goodness 
 to me and mine; and when I forget the atten- 
 tion so lavishly bestowed, day and night, on 
 the dear object of my anxious cares at this time 
 last year, every thing else will pass from the 
 failing memory of 
 
 Yours affectionately, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Boston, 7 Novr. 1851. 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — ^That you have had no letter 
 from me for three weeks, you must know how 
 to explain without suggestion from me. Yes- 
 terday we had dinner one hour before the settled 
 time, in order to permit the solemnity of Har- 
 riet's marriage after it in season for her husband 
 to take her onward towards New York. His 
 aunt invited them, and so I shall be left nine 
 days nearly without any body to cheer me up, 
 except Jamie for his Sunday's visit. 
 
 Well, the affair went off well, and so did the 
 
137 
 
 parties, Amos* habited in a short frock coat and 
 Harriet in travelHng dress. There were pres- 
 ent only Mrs. Binney with her two sons, Wm. 
 and Henry, if I have his name right, her sister 
 Mrs. Wells with her husband, Aunt Hillard, 
 George and Susan with Oliver, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Bartol, your brother James, Dr. Gannett and 
 myself. It was something of a solemnity to 
 me, but very much less oppressive, than it must 
 have been, had it withdrawn Harriet from the 
 protection of my roof. Many sad recollections 
 were, of course, revived; and the floods of suf- 
 fering that in two years and a half have rolled 
 over me seemed to turn me to your wedding 
 as the last day of my freedom from all the 
 severer sorrows of life. 
 
 James got your letter when he came on 
 Thursday to Harriet's wedding. He is in 
 glorious condition of health. Let Eliza know, 
 how much we are interested in her good estate, 
 and willing that she should continue with you 
 several days or weeks longer, if she engage to 
 grow in flesh and strength with each succeeding 
 day or week. 
 
 * Amos Binney. 
 
138 
 
 Boston, 17 Dec, 1851. 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — I dare say, you will be glad 
 to get a few words from me, even if they tell 
 nothing new. I am in admirable health, and 
 have been so every hour since I came into the 
 city. Ah! this coming, however, sadly inter- 
 feres with my progress in the great work, for in 
 a work it is good working if the result be equal 
 to a day's employment at Lunenburg. Now 
 it is nine weeks since I reached Boston, and I 
 have just finished the fourteenth page, having 
 closed at L. with John ii/<3rvard,the ever blessed. 
 I have barely finished i/^mmenway. 
 
 Next Monday I go on the excursion with 
 some friends of Geo. S. Hillard to attend the 
 celebration of the New England Society in 
 honor of the Landing of the Pilgrims. George 
 is to deliver the Address on this glorious occa- 
 sion; and it will be, for I have heard him read 
 the larger part, a splendid speech. If pub- 
 lished, as it must be, you can judge for yourself. 
 
 We look to see Eliza before this week ends; 
 but she may stay at New York until next week 
 to hear George, and come back with us. Mary * 
 came down from Lunenburg about a fortnight 
 
 *The eldest daughter of Judge Gushing. 
 
139 
 
 since, in Eliza's carriage, driven by Franklin. 
 He told me the two dogs were well. But he 
 did not tell me, nor did I hear of it before see- 
 ing in yesterday's paper, the death of our very 
 aged neighbour at the foot of the hill, Mr. 
 Whiting's mother. It was no event of lamen- 
 tation, we may feel certain, to her son or his wife 
 as ninety two years make any mortal to become 
 a burden to friends, if not even to one's self. 
 It seemed to me, that she was always willing 
 to depart. 
 
 We feel full confidence in the recovery of Judge 
 Gushing to his best condition, if he can perse- 
 vere in his course of prudence. Every day for 
 the two past weeks he has been able to go down 
 into Court street, as I hear. 
 
 You may have a glorious opportunity at 
 Washington to see and hear of old Boston friends. 
 Charge your husband to see our Representa- 
 tive, Mr. Appleton, because that house must 
 be the most likely place for such advantage. 
 If you reach the capital before the close of 
 Christmas holidays, no doubt you may find 
 comfortable lodgings; but a fortnight later, it 
 might be very difficult. Up to fourth of March 
 next, there must be a portion, not small, of all 
 the preposterous and all the corrupt in our 
 
I40 
 
 country. Some only for the trifling purpose of 
 seeing the new Hungarian Lion; and some for 
 the worse object of seeing how the best price 
 may be obtained for their influence in the next 
 election. 
 
 We have today the coldest temperature by 
 many degrees. The glass showed 2^ only above 
 o before sunrise, I am told, and believe it easily, 
 for at our front door, when the clock struck 
 nine, it was only 6, and you know the sun 
 must have good influence in the range of the 
 Court. 
 
 Today is our annual meeting at Savings 
 Bank, being thirty five years since date of our 
 Charter, and the seventieth dividend is now in 
 an advanced state of preparation. I suppose 
 my relation with this most interesting Insti- 
 tution must be continued so long as I am able 
 to over-look its affairs, though at every other I 
 claim the right of withdrawing and requiring 
 the labor of younger men. Why should I fill 
 half the work places in Boston .? might have 
 been a question three years ago. I got out of 
 two, three, or four of such situations, and am 
 hardly engaged at all now, more than to keep 
 me awake to the motions of the world. 
 
 Beg my kind remembrance by your husband, 
 
141 
 
 his brother and lady, and others who less dis- 
 tinctly inquire for 
 
 Your affectionate 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Boston, 17 January, 1852. 
 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — So much pleasure did your 
 letter of Sunday before last give me, that you 
 might reasonably expect early answer. But 
 then my engagements are too numerous to 
 permit so much leisure as would be needed to 
 fill up this sheet, although matter enough is 
 pressing around me for its completion. 
 
 The winter so far has been equal to what used 
 to be boasted of half a century ago. Yesterday 
 morning Wainwright says his thermometer in 
 Louisburg Square was at 6 minus. But it is 
 delightful to me. Never can I remember that 
 I enjoyed better health, though thirteen days 
 out of fourteen last it has snowed more or less. 
 Indeed more than half of the fall in this time 
 has been rain, but still so short a continuance 
 each time as to permit a slight addition to the 
 solid continent of ice in the streets. The 
 
142 
 
 club at my house this week was quite a trial for 
 Harriet's housewifely talents; yet it was, they 
 say, of the most agreeable reunions of the season. 
 It was very wet walking two hours after sunset, 
 but then began the freezing, which was very 
 agreeable. 
 
 You have been six days at Washington, and 
 the appearance of your husband in the Smith- 
 sonian Institute was on Tuesday evening re- 
 ceived with great satisfaction, as the Nat. In- 
 telligencer of Thursday informs me this morn- 
 ing. May he win all the golden opinions I 
 desire for him. Our Boston member of Con- 
 gress is Mr. William Appleton, whom WiUiam 
 must have seen, though he may have less ac- 
 quaintance with him than with Nathan. And 
 so next Saturday you must go from Washington 
 to reach home on Sunday, and enter on duty 
 the following day. Very well, young folks must 
 work. 
 
 Harriet and Amos are systematic in inhaling 
 the pure breezes around the Common; and 
 James, who began his vacation of seven weeks 
 three days since, is the picture of more rude 
 health than is perhaps reputable for a student. 
 He anticipates a fruitful season next summer 
 and autumn from the copious snow banks now 
 
143 
 
 visible; and perhaps he looks forward for the 
 residue of his life to be intimately conversant 
 with the interests and employment of agri- 
 culture or horticulture. But he ought also to 
 think, how he is to earn his living. Probably 
 he is not quite old enough to entertain any 
 suspicions about that. 
 
 Your cousin Geo. Hillard's Address before the 
 New England Society at New York is not yet 
 published; but he is to repeat it, by desire, of 
 some Society here next week. What petty 
 criticism some New York paper made of it, 
 grew out of the application by the audience to 
 the Kossuth fanaticism that had reached its 
 heighth two days before, and had begun to 
 decline on 22 ulto. But this was a very high 
 compliment by both parties, for the sentiment 
 had been written before the arrival of the great 
 Magyar, or Magician. Mr. Kossuth meets 
 more sympathy than he ought, because he is 
 encouraged by some traders in our national 
 politics to raise a commotion, that may turn 
 to their profit in the approaching election of 
 President; and if likely to go too far, would, 
 as they vainly think, be easily controlled. In 
 some part, but happily a very small part, a 
 war would be agreeable, with any nation; but 
 
144 
 
 the enthusiasm on false basis, awakened with 
 no such ultimate object, may be turned to that 
 horrid result. Ah! well! there will not again 
 be an opportunity for a President from New 
 England, and there need be no fear now, I 
 suppose, of Webster's success. He is too im- 
 portant a man for such a station in common 
 times, and too independent for it at any time 
 in the judgment of the few intriguers who seem 
 to decide such matters. Give my love to Robert 
 and his wife, when you get home; and tell your 
 husband, it would be very agreeable to me to 
 receive account of his experiences at the great 
 Tadmor. Our friends here, I believe are all 
 well. I was last evening at the Guilds, where 
 father, mother, and the daughter inquired for 
 you. 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 
 Boston, 4 March '52. 
 To W. B. Rogers. 
 
 It might seem long, my dear son, to neglect 
 answering your letter of i Feb. that was so very 
 minute and agreeable to me; but then you 
 know, how to make allowances, and that any 
 letter from Eliza, Harriet or James to your 
 wife is a reply to you unless the letter had been 
 
145 
 
 about business. There is just now sounding 
 the discharge of Artillery in honor of the day, 
 you may remind Emma, on which she was 
 born, or on which after quadrennial service the 
 organization anew of the National government 
 is held. Well! this serves admirably to remind 
 me how anxiously I carried that dear child 
 about in my arms to obtain change of air for her, 
 when getting over the long protracted feebleness 
 of lungs from the whooping cough. Fire away, 
 ■fire away^ heavy guns on the Common, when the 
 whole earth's surface for many miles is frozen 
 and covered with ice and snow, as it was two 
 months ago. Ten weeks' steady sleighing have 
 we enjoyed, that is those who love to take a 
 drive in that manner. And in the country at a 
 little distance no doubt this is the fourteenth 
 week of unbroken conveyance by runners instead 
 of wheels. Yesterday morning the thermometer 
 stood at 10°, and this morning the same, so 
 you may well suppose we have a fair specimen 
 of best winter weather. I much rejoice in it, 
 for my health was never better, if even so good; 
 and the bracing atmosphere is highly exhilarat- 
 ing. 
 
 James left us last evening after his six weeks 
 vacation, which has been passed, probably, with 
 
146 
 
 less profit than pleasure. But he has given 
 large share of attention to music. 
 
 You have before this day received the news 
 of Amos and Harriet's excursion to France en 
 route for Italy, designed to begin next week. 
 I gave way reluctantly to their desire, but hope 
 it may be the means of rendering such another 
 flight unnecessary. We can be certain of noth- 
 ing in such a detestable condition of affairs 
 as now prevails in France; but as the motive 
 of health is the dominant one with these young 
 folks, they can have little excuse for protracting 
 their absence beyond the last week of June or 
 first of July. But it is some matter of anxiety, 
 what shall be done with me while they are gone. 
 Well enough shall I get on until the preparation 
 for going up to Sunny Hill begins in the latter 
 part of May. And now I want you, if any ways 
 it can be, to let Emma come on to me two or 
 three days before the close of that month. 
 Nothing need detain me in Boston, indeed, 
 later than 26th but if E. were here, she, no 
 doubt, would be looking round for this, that, 
 and the other, commodity in some shop, that 
 must be acquired before departure. 
 
 Genealogy has thriven very moderately since 
 the middle of October. Not three pages a week 
 
147 
 
 has been my average, though yesterday I made 
 
 progress through one and a quarter. This 
 
 letter H which occupied my standing * hours 
 
 in the first week of Oct. will hold me imperiously 
 
 through March and part of April. But the next 
 
 members of the Alphabet, I. J. and K., are small 
 
 folks, and can be disposed of before thinking of 
 
 Sunny Hill as my resting place. 
 
 Love to your bro. Robert and his wife, and 
 
 be sure of 
 
 Yours 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Boston, 8 April '52. 
 To HIS Daughter, Mrs. Rogers. 
 
 My dear Child, — Very glad was I to get your 
 letter of 3rd yesterday; and now this morning 
 we see in the telegraph intelligence from Steamer 
 Africa arriving last evening at New York, that 
 the Franklin from New York 13 ulto. reached 
 the Isle of Wight on 25th so that Harriet was 
 lucky as my anticipation, and was actually on 
 shore, no doubt, at Havre in less than a fort- 
 night after departure from our shores. 
 
 Your reference to the conflagration of the 
 
 ♦ Much of his work was done at a standing desk. 
 
148 
 
 Tremont Temple reminds me, that near as it 
 was to us, nobody in our house had any knowl- 
 edge of it before the morning's Advertiser at our 
 breakfast table. Yet the fall of the larger part 
 of the front wall shook the whole town for half 
 a mile. It had been my good fortune to have 
 the Trustees of the Boston Library at supper in 
 the evening, and all of us were sleeping more 
 soundly than usual, I suppose, between one and 
 two o'clock when the alarm was given, or at 
 four when the wall fell. As to the new con- 
 trivance for communicating information about 
 the quarter in which the fire is, so far it is as yet 
 only offered for inquiry; and after the city 
 authorities have adopted it (if they ever do) we 
 shall suffer little anxiety from ignorance of the 
 scene of disaster. Besides this failure of means 
 of spreading report of the spot, where relief was 
 to be carried, probably the secret creeping of the 
 fire had diffused the mischief through half of 
 the upper part of the edifice before any detection. 
 Now it is hardly lamented much, as it was so 
 insecure a building. People who attended that 
 evening early a lecture, with very great crowd of 
 auditors, seem to exult almost in its destruction, 
 at least hope that whatever may come in its 
 place, shall be more secure. 
 
149 
 
 You may see in the newspapers how we were 
 visited on Monday night, or rather on Tuesday 
 morning with a most severe snow storm. The 
 quantity that fell exceeded that of any one dis- 
 pensation of the whole year. It was a fair two 
 feet deep in our court; but as the weather has 
 been, generally, warmer since with bright sun- 
 shine, the quantity is reduced by three fourths. 
 In most of the wide streets the pavements begin 
 to reappear. Probably we shall see the good 
 of it next week in the growth of the grass, and 
 the coming forward of buds in the shrubs and 
 early trees. 
 
 Yours affectionately 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 
 Boston, 21 April, 1852. 
 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — You may well complain, 
 that so much time has elapsed since date of 
 yours of 3rd Inst, which was answered im- 
 mediately after its coming, when by your very 
 next letter to Boston your lonely state was de- 
 scribed as your husband had been obliged to 
 come to Philadelphia to see poor James in 
 
ISO 
 
 perilous situation.* But from the first day 
 after reception of that news, that is Sunday 
 before last, I have not been able to get up to 
 Judge Cushing's to inquire if Eliza had written 
 to you, nor has she been down town to us. In 
 the whole ten days only two have been fair, 
 and one of them was so wet with the melting of 
 deep snow, that it was as hazardous to walk 
 about in as a perpetual rain. Yesterday I got 
 encouraging letter of last Friday by your hus- 
 band, which makes me feel almost certain of 
 the restoration of his brother. By Geo. S. 
 Hillard, too, I am told that Henry has called 
 for attendance forthwith of his fellow laborers in 
 the field, and must forego the expectation he had 
 formed of going into Nova Scotia on short ex- 
 cursion. 
 
 Dr. Hayward and his wife will next Monday 
 leave here for Richmond to attend the Con- 
 vention of Medical Science for the Union, he 
 being one of the Vice Presidents, and by ap- 
 pointment from a former meeting bound to 
 make two Reports. 
 
 From Harriet I got a short letter of the date of 
 26th ulto. off Cowes, as the ship stopped to land 
 
 * James Bly the Rogers, of University of Pennsylvania; eldest brother of 
 WiUiam Barton Rogers. 
 
the mail and passengers at Isle of Wight, but 
 was forthwith to proceed to Havre. She hoped 
 next night to be as far as Rouen on the way to 
 Paris, there not to stop many hours, yet long 
 enough to write. 
 
 It would be very comfortable to me to know, 
 what address to put on my letters, but it may be 
 that Baring Brothers & Co., London, must be 
 well enough for any thing this side of heaven. 
 
 I was last week called on to furnish for a new 
 work in England some pages of Pedigree, which 
 was obeyed with a will, as the sailors say, it 
 being for the family of my admirable friend, who 
 has been dead to be sure more than two hundred 
 years, Govr. Winthrop. So your husband must 
 not think that my work made any but snail's 
 progress of half a page in the whole week. 
 Next week, if it ever clears away enough to 
 justify an expectation of two days of sunshine 
 in sequence, I hope to get a run up to New 
 Hampshire to visit the widow of your uncle 
 Arthur. Even the two miles out to Cambridge- 
 port I have not yet traversed since last July to 
 see Aunt Bruce. The weather has been beyond 
 the experience of forty years, many say, I feel 
 sure of thirty; and I can hardly be glad enough 
 that Amos and Harriet escaped the trial. This 
 
152 
 
 is James's birthday, the fourth of the Easterly- 
 storm, in which many vessels have been lost; 
 and I am glad to say, that some slight signs ap- 
 pear of the exhaustion of its malignity. We get 
 on in housekeeping very comfortably, and never 
 was better the health of 
 
 Yours affectionately 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Boston, April 30, 1852. 
 
 My dear Child, — Your letter of 21st was very 
 gratifying with its relation of return of your 
 husband to his appropriate duties in the Uni- 
 versity. 
 
 We have very pleasant accounts from Harriet, 
 each better, so far, than its predecessor. Her 
 first letter was of 26th from Cowes, of which I 
 wrote you the substance. 
 
 This day I should have been at Hopkinton, 
 but am detained by sudden death on Wednes- 
 day of our deacon Tarbell, whom you may 
 remember. So I must wait until Monday, and 
 hope no further postponement. Before this 
 week on Monday I had not been this year be- 
 yond the lines of the city. Then I went over 
 
153 
 
 to see your aunt Bruce, who is advanced nearer 
 to close of life than when I saw her last, but 
 that was in July, by no perceptible degree, un- 
 less it be in deafness. She is cheerful enough, and 
 seemed to make a boast of being in her 85th year. 
 
 Last week came here from England my 
 admirable friend, the Honorable Edward 
 Twisleton, who is on a mission to complete 
 the engagement made last October, in marry- 
 ing Miss Dwight of Park Street. He most par- 
 ticularly made me promise to give his kindest 
 regards to you and your husband. Probably 
 they will be half way to England before you 
 reach Boston. 
 
 You remember our stout Irish girl, Mrs. 
 Willey's daughter, named I believe Maria. 
 Well, we hear she was married last week. She 
 had left us some three months ago, for as she 
 had hopes of this promotion in life, Harriet 
 thought she grew saucy. 
 
 Yesterday afternoon I took tea at Judge's, 
 and found Eliza and all the children exceedingly 
 well. A new pair of horses is, at present, the 
 great object of desire, and of course there is no 
 difficulty but in making selection. So long as 
 this is undetermined, Eliza will be well to a 
 certainty, and after the purchase I shall hope, 
 
154 
 
 that some of the satisfaction may consist in the 
 enjoyment of their services, by her friends and 
 herself. 
 
 WiUiam will be pleased, with the sermon of 
 Dr. Gannett that I sent yesterday in a news- 
 paper. He will go on a very long journey to the 
 Mississippi in ten days. 
 
 Your alFct. father 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 Boston, i6 May, 1852. 
 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — Before receipt of your letter 
 this morning, anxious anticipation has been 
 pressing on me for ten days, that you must be 
 unable to comply with your engagement to come 
 on next week. Your duty is plain enough, 
 to stay by your husband, to alleviate his anx- 
 ieties, to soothe his sorrows, perhaps in some 
 petty things, which become great things in sit- 
 uations of distress, to lighten his labors. I 
 have thought much about good Mr. James 
 Rogers, his wife, and children; but nothing is 
 within my power to do or supply, except this 
 foregoing for a few days my pleasure in seeing 
 you. Easily enough shall I get up to Sunny 
 
155 
 
 Hill, either the latter part of next week, on Fri- 
 day would be my earliest leisure, or on Mon- 
 day or Tuesday after, still before i June. 
 
 James got from Harriet by the last Thursday 
 morning steamer here a letter of 15-19 April at 
 Rome, of great length, about all the wonderful 
 things in art, ancient and modern, about the filth 
 and other discomforts of the modern city, and 
 leaving us to infer, that her health continued as 
 by last date preceding. Indeed she complains 
 of the cold, and says they must go farther 
 North to be more comfortable. Perhaps she 
 means only a more agreeable part of Italy, as 
 Florence or Pisa or the lake of Como. 
 
 My work of Genealogy has not wholly 
 stopped, but moves slowly. Now I am on the 
 last name of letter H. into which I had made 
 some advance when you left Lunenburg. G. 
 filled a hundred pages, and H. demands a hun- 
 dred and fifty seven. 
 
 I close this scrawl, that it may go by first mail 
 since yours came to my hands, begging full 
 sympathy to be assured to your husband and 
 undiminished affection to yourself, kind re- 
 membrances to Robert and his wife from 
 
 Yours 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
To HIS Daughter. 
 
 156 
 
 Lunenburg, ii June, 1852. 
 
 My dear Child, — ^You will readily suppose, 
 that I had enough to do at Boston in getting 
 ready to remove for the summer to this hill 
 side, or hill top rather, to justify my postpone- 
 ment of reply to your questions. 
 
 James came into town on Tuesday morning 
 quite unwell, having over-done a good work 
 by seven miles walk and taking cold after it 
 on Monday afternoon; and I called Dr. Hay- 
 ward to control his regimen. 
 
 The air is rather too cold for comfort, with- 
 out fire; but the appearance of the country is 
 delightful, and I want you here to partake the 
 enjoyment. 
 
 Though the sun is shining very bright, our 
 temperature is very low, so that we must have 
 fire as in March. Still the children have run 
 out into the grass, and gathered some two or 
 three small spoonfuls of strawberries; of course 
 I presume you will understand me to mean wild 
 ones. Those in the beds are just come into 
 blow, but we expect favorable produce. 
 
 We had two or three warm days in Boston; 
 but not two in succession. I used a blanket 
 every night but one, and several nights this 
 
157 
 
 month both blanket and quilt. Your Aunt 
 Savage went on Tuesday to New Bedford to 
 visit the Arnolds, James S. Cooper, with his 
 wife and daughter having gone off on Monday 
 afternoon for Niagara. 
 
 Bevis and Grip seem quite gratified with our 
 arrival, perhaps in confident expectation of 
 better supply of food. 
 
 Yours, with tenderest regards for your hus- 
 band, 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg, 21 June, 1852. 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — I wrote you the day after 
 reaching this loved retreat, and no doubt was 
 in so much of a hurry, as to omit half of what 
 should have been said. Next week shall you 
 set out for the North ? The first day of July 
 being Thursday, and Sunday the 4th the ob- 
 streperous and dangerous parades, with burn- 
 ing of gunpowder, and drunkenness, usually 
 accompanying the celebration of our day of 
 national independence, must be postponed to 
 the 5th. Now I am very desirous you should 
 not be in motion on any railroad car or steam- 
 
158 
 
 boat on that day of the Saturnalia. If you 
 were quietly housed at Judge Cushing's in Bos- 
 ton, or up here, there would be no peril. All will, 
 I know, depend on the control of time that may 
 be in the power of the Professor. He will long 
 to be at Philadelphia, if his brother be living; 
 and be more anxious still, if he is not. There, 
 I suppose, he must stop for some time, after 
 •sending you forward. In Philadelphia, if you 
 pass the noisy jifth, I shall feel as easy about 
 you, as if you were in Boston. Harriet and 
 Amos will reach home on the seventh, as the 
 letters received last Friday inform me, from 
 Paris, 2nd Inst, of the passage being engaged 
 for the steamer Canada to sail next Saturday, 
 
 You may have two or three days' occupation 
 after reaching Boston; though more than two 
 of the indispensable calls or visits may be done 
 in a day. But the Guilds expect you at Brook- 
 line, with great confidence. You know how 
 easy it is to get there, the railroad station being 
 only a third of a mile from their house. But 
 Sam. E. Guild's office, where his father attends 
 every morning, is at the same door with Cousin 
 George S. Hillard's. So you may send a note 
 any morning before he goes out to dinner. 
 
 James has quite renewed his health, and goes 
 
159 
 
 down to recommence his studies this afternoon. 
 You must write to him, as well as to us, up here, 
 to inform what day you will expect to reach 
 Boston. Every thing here looks well. On Sat- 
 urday morning I had two of the noble large 
 strawberries, the first, from our vines. This 
 week they will be plenty, and become more so 
 next week; but unless the weather be very dry 
 indeed, or very wet indeed, there will be abun- 
 dance for you three weeks hence. 
 
 On Wednesday of next week I go to Boston 
 to be on the spot for attending to half a dozen 
 pieces of business on i July, and come up here 
 again that evening. On 6th I will, of course, 
 go down again to meet Harriet the next day, 
 and, unless it be intolerably hot, may stay a 
 couple of days. 
 
 Let not your husband fail to spend with us all 
 the vacation he can spare from Philadelphia. 
 May he have the satisfaction of receiving the 
 conscious expressions of brother James's regard, 
 is the best wish, under all the circumstances, 
 that should be uttered by 
 
 Yours, with deepest affection, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
i6o 
 
 Lunenburg, 21 Sept., 1852. 
 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — You have had no more equi- 
 noctial storm, it may be hoped, than we have, 
 and up to this time have enjoyed the mountains, 
 and the alternations of autumnal fogs and clear 
 sunshine that belong to the season. But you 
 would like to be told, I dare say, that we have 
 gone on in the same petty circle of eating peaches 
 that seem to be three quarters of sugar, writing 
 in the genealogical trammels, which surely is 
 as much my pleasure as my occupation, one 
 hour to backgammon, and seven to sleep. 
 
 It is nearly time to think of gathering in the 
 harvest of Sunny Hill, but the weather is so 
 glorious, that we confine ourselves to the trees. 
 Apples we shall know not what to do with, ex- 
 cept in the way of cooking in the season coming 
 at Boston; but the superabundance of peaches 
 the pig can divide with us. To three, four or 
 five neighbors we have sent, but so many people 
 raise them, that it is not easy to know which 
 way to distribute. Some people are complain- 
 ing of deficiency of potatoes, and perhaps in 
 a small patch our own luck was as bad as that 
 of others, who get out of their hills only as 
 much, sometimes less, than they put in. 
 
i6i 
 
 Our disquiet about Mr. Babcock continues, 
 but will not, I hope, lead to a separation.* 
 Last Sunday, the church was very well filled, 
 though Mr. C. was not present. We, who 
 know what is the worth of stated services of 
 religion on Sundays, and the pastoral care on 
 the rest of the week, would much regret to lose 
 so conscientious a minister. 
 
 From Amos who went to town last Thurs- 
 day, we heard of your having wisely waited 
 until that morning before leaving Boston. It 
 might have been easy for you, I suppose, to 
 reach Pottsville on Friday; but if not, the un- 
 certainty of Sound navigation was well avoided. 
 
 As my eyes do not approve of much exercise 
 of their power in the lamp light, I close with 
 injunction to let me hear from you at earliest 
 convenience, unless you have already written, 
 and if so, tomorrow, I shall expect, will bring 
 a letter to your affectionate father 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 
 * The minister of the Unitarian Church. 
 
To HIS Daughter. 
 
 162 
 
 Boston, 12 Octor. 1852. 
 
 My dear Child, — Both of your good de- 
 spatches, of 19 ulto., from Pottsville, and 24 
 from Easton were duly received at Sunny Hill, 
 which we left last Wednesday, and yet we had 
 not got established in proper comfort at Temple 
 Place before sunset on Saturday. On Sunday 
 morning your advice of safe return was received 
 from the University. But I meant to begin my 
 Boston experience by telling you, that on Friday 
 evening I had the great pleasure of meeting 
 Lady Lyall at Mrs. Ticknor's, where she is 
 visiting, and wholly without other person present, 
 than young Dr. Minot. On Sunday evening 
 again I saw her for a few minutes. She was 
 very glad to hear of you; and of course I thought 
 her very agreeable. Her facility of conversation, 
 without pretension, without awkward diffidence, 
 is a charm. Her husband is expected to come 
 to town to-day from the exploration he has been 
 engaged upon, with Hall of New York, of the 
 morains near the Tachonic range on the borders 
 of Berkshire I believe. The demand of seats 
 for his course of lectures at the Lowell Institute, 
 which begins next Tuesday, was so large, that 
 only one in three, of the applicants, are to be 
 
i63 
 
 furnished with tickets. Mr. Lowell has not yet 
 returned home. When Mr. Lawrence * comes, 
 there is to be a grand reception, or at least a 
 dinner of congratulation. 
 
 Harriet says, that your aunt Savage this fore- 
 noon called to see her, and remarked, that Mrs. 
 Baird had been expecting to make you a visit at 
 Lunenburg, when she should receive from you 
 notice of a favorable time. 
 
 The Judge's children are very well, the two 
 elder having interrupted me the last minute of 
 my writing, so that I must bring this scrawl to a 
 close, with assurance of being, as ever. 
 Your affectionate father, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 The Wednesday club begins to-morrow even- 
 ing, and The Boston Library Trustees meet 
 next. 
 
 Boston, 31 October, 1852. 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 It would seem very strange, my dear child, if 
 to your letter of 10 Inst, no reply should be 
 made in three weeks; but every thing did not 
 
 ♦Minister to Court of St. James. 
 
1 64 
 
 concur to make easy the answer, and on Thurs- 
 day last I got the satisfactory evidence in an- 
 other epistle of 24th, that you were not punc- 
 tilious in exacting compensation for one before 
 sending a second. 
 
 The house of Rev. Mr. Clark in Pinckney 
 Street, concerning which you desired me to 
 inquire, is not for sale at present, as your cousin 
 George tells me. Probably next year, or after 
 the return of Mr. C. it may be. George thinks 
 the owner would be willing to sell the house 
 lying between his and Clark's; but it is held by 
 Willard on a lease of some years. A few days 
 since, I attended the sale by auction of a house, 
 No. 6 Avon Place, which would suit you and 
 William, I think, exceedingly well; and had the 
 means of finding half of the purchase money 
 been within my reach, I should, certainly, have 
 bought it, at small advance on nine thousand 
 dollars. Perhaps Avon Place seemed more 
 desirable than Pinckney street, because it is 
 so short a distance from Temple Place, barely 
 crossing Washington Street; and your Aunt 
 Savage lodges at No. 3. To be sure, for a few 
 weeks in summer, the greater elevation of P. 
 street makes the command of pure air more 
 sure; but then the seven eighths of our year the 
 
 
165 
 
 elevation would be undesirable, and besides you 
 would never choose to be in Boston in the season 
 between June and October, while Sunny hill 
 has a house on it. 
 
 Wisely will you resolve to come to Boston 
 before seeing the absolute ownership of a house 
 over your head; because there are always 
 comfortable ones to be hired, and occasionally 
 desirable ones to be purchased. Many, very 
 many, are going out of the city to build in some 
 of the neighboring towns, to which the Railroads 
 give such easy access; many more go to lodge, 
 without the burden of housekeeping, in charming 
 retreats that afford the revival of their rural re- 
 membrances, and promise cheaply the recovery 
 of youthful delights. So it will continue to be, 
 I doubt not. 
 
 Monday Morning, i Nov. 
 You will be rejoiced to hear, that last evening 
 a few minutes before nine, your sister Harriet 
 was favored with birth of a daughter, a black 
 haired child of admirable development, and 
 the mother was able to see me one minute before 
 I went to bed. It seems to me, as if H. had been 
 gaining in health for most of the days since we 
 came down to the city. James was here to pass 
 his Sunday as usual, and did not, as usual, go to 
 
1 66 
 
 the College in the evening, but staid to breakfast 
 this morning. 
 
 It is proper for me to break off, because I 
 have some important matter to attend to before 
 dinner. 
 
 With kindest remembrance to your husband, 
 I am, dear child, 
 
 Your affectionate father 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Boston, 23 Novr. 1852. 
 To HIS Daughter and her Husband. 
 
 My dear Children, — Your agreeable report of 
 10 Inst, did not come Northv^ard v^ith the 
 regular punctuality of the mail, and there is, 
 no doubt, some cause of failure to be counted 
 almost regular, though some opportunity for 
 oscillation is allowed in loss of tv^o or of five 
 days. 
 
 With great diligence I have turned over into 
 various lights the subject you present of leaving 
 the University, and coming to reside at Boston. 
 For the degree of aid that I shall gladly con- 
 tribute to make your residence here comfort- 
 able, no delay is needed to decide. I can for 
 some years to come, v^ithout embarrassment in 
 
16/ 
 
 my pecuniary affairs, such as no man of my years 
 ought to subject himself to, allow you at the 
 rate of one thousand dollars a year, half in July, 
 half in January. Why I can do no more, is 
 partly from my being in debt to about seventeen 
 or eighteen thousand dollars, which, before 
 going to the long and narrow house, I would 
 gladly reduce, if not extinguish. Another part 
 of my excuse is, that, having long been accus- 
 tomed to pay small sums, periodically, in charity, 
 I can hardly stint my nature to nothing; besides, 
 that of four widowed sisters, three are, in some 
 degree, dependent on my ability to do what 
 justice requires in their support. 
 
 Now what influence this may have in govern- 
 ing your decision about coming to Boston for 
 residence, is not for me to guess. What can be 
 your profitable employment of time and what 
 in this part of the world will never be known, 
 until it is tried. Some call there is for science in 
 many directions, but chiefly the practical mathe- 
 maticks, as engineering must continue to direct 
 railroads in every five miles of New England. 
 To give up a certainty for uncertainty, is not 
 the common course of wisdom; but in your 
 case, very likely, it may be sublime discretion. 
 
 Authorship makes part, probably a large part, 
 
i68 
 
 of your views of devotion for your time. It is 
 well; but then profit is to follow such employ- 
 ment, or it is worse than idleness. Yet my 
 practice you may think inconsistent with my 
 doctrine. I have just now undertaken the 
 over-sight of a new edition of my Winthrop's 
 History, with additions and corrections; and 
 am to have no other compensation than a very 
 few copies. But then reputation is a good thing 
 to extend. Emolument came twenty five years 
 ago with the last preceding service; and if the 
 Genealogical Dictionary is published in my 
 life time, some fair return for ten years work is 
 more likely to be got, if the public see, in my new 
 devotion to Winthrop, that my diligence is not 
 relaxed nor my judgment weakened by the long 
 lapse of time. Both of the works may be going 
 forward at the same time; for indeed one would 
 rather advance than disorder the other. 
 
 We have great expectations of the faculties 
 to be developed by the young granddaughter. 
 What energy of voice she can exert, when dis- 
 quieted by any external or internal cause! My 
 ears! if she could not have been heard half 
 through our Court yesterday. However part 
 of the exertion was owing to a surgical experi- 
 ment of Dr. Hayward to give her pure lymph by 
 
169 
 
 vaccination. She seems to have an adequate 
 capacity to sleep, and that is one of the best 
 shows that any child of her age can exhibit. 
 
 Glad am I at the reports you send me of your 
 brother Robert's success, of which no doubt 
 could have been felt; and more at the story of 
 Rachel becoming equal to her hard lot. Its 
 alleviations, in such children, will show what a 
 happy condition widowhood may be made. 
 
 If you take resolution to resign your Pro- 
 fessorship before the middle of your term, I 
 suppose it will be incumbent on you to fill the 
 chair until the end of June. Is it so .? 
 
 Yours in truest affection, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 Boston, i January, 1853. 
 
 My dear Child ^ — Most heartily wishing you 
 a happy new year, and the more eagerly because 
 so long time has elapsed since my last to you. 
 
 I have made some progress in the reprint 
 of Winthrop about one sixth of Vol. i. being 
 finished. It will be a handsome book, on 
 larger type than the former Edition. No more 
 
170 
 
 unoccupied hours for six months can await me, 
 if my health continue good as now. For be- 
 fore sending to press the old pages, all are care- 
 fully examined to see what cause for correction, 
 or room for improvement exists. Of course 
 genealogy lies by to a great degree, for I have 
 in a month past advanced not above a Lunen- 
 burg day's progress. 
 
 Every body almost of whom you would wish 
 to hear is well. That Amos Lawrence died 
 last Friday morning, you are informed by the 
 newspapers. He had made his usual rounds 
 of benevolence the day before, and parted in 
 the evening with intimate friends as usual. 
 So most people call the departure sudden, when 
 it is five or six and twenty years since that epi- 
 thet would have been just. Was ever any of 
 the sons of men more ready for his summons.^ 
 
 Your husband's letter fills me with delight, 
 because we have been separated so long, that 
 I seem almost isolated from the world, while 
 in Boston; though really it is much more true 
 at Lunenburg, yet there my dearest are nearest. 
 Some years may still revolve between me and 
 the grave; but how many or how few is for our 
 good concealed. Let me work, while the day 
 lasts, and the final hour may come sooner or 
 
I/I 
 
 later; though it is feared my example of suffer- 
 ing by long protracted decay would not be edi- 
 fying. To myself I seem to grow younger every 
 month, yet nobody insinuates that it is approach 
 of second childhood to your 
 
 Affectionate 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Boston, 24 January '53. 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — Your words of 7th instant 
 were very acceptable; and though it is a fort- 
 night today since they came to hand, you know 
 well how to excuse the failure of reply. The 
 work of Winthrop should be completed before 
 the last day of May, when we go to Sunny Hill; 
 yet my fears preponderate, and the devil's imps 
 may be permitted by the great adversary to 
 revenge his cause upon me, who have so con- 
 stantly derided his power. But if my printers 
 proceed as diligently as for the last ten days, 
 the last word may be struck off before the mid- 
 dle of that month. 
 
 Your letter of last week to Harriet came on 
 Saturday. So you had learned that the darling 
 child was named, or to be named, Lucy. The 
 
1/2 
 
 solemn service of baptism was held in our par- 
 lor on Wednesday before last, and it was my 
 resolve to have her, in the evening introduced 
 to our club, which met at my house. But she 
 was too much engrossed in her sleep to have 
 that honor. If she have the heavenly temper, 
 even without the exquisite vivacity of her dear 
 departed namesake, she may diffuse abundant 
 joy and light upon her parents. In her wean- 
 ing, that seemed necessary, three weeks since, 
 she pined very little, and last week had scarla- 
 tina as mildly as the kine pox before. 
 
 My thoughts were drawn to you last week 
 by a present from Mr. Coolidge of two of those 
 splendid pippins of Albemarle County. Some 
 part of Virginia, therefore, I can hardly avoid 
 loving. 
 
 25 Jf^'^y- In preparation for the Winthrop I 
 keep ahead of the printer, so that his toe be 
 not too near my heel. Two hundred pages are 
 printed; but that grows out of 175 of the former 
 edition. Great satisfaction is felt from the 
 prospect of having put before the world what 
 I desired long to do. 
 
 Thackeray was wonderfully successful here. 
 Five of his six lectures I heard, and think very 
 well of them, with the qualification, that they 
 
173 
 
 are written for oral delivery, not to be studied 
 in print. Altogether the matter was of a bio- 
 graphical character, strictly, affording no high 
 criticism on the works of the author whose life 
 was under the artist's hand. No works were 
 referred to, except Hogarth's, unless for the 
 purpose of furnishing details of the writer's pri- 
 vate or public career. 
 
 If your uncles, George and Sam,* come to 
 visit you at the University, pray entreat them 
 to give me a visit next summer, between June 
 and October at Sunny hill. They must not 
 often expect to see their sister Rebecca at 
 Brooklyn, yet if they come to visit her so far, 
 the addition of eleven hours more railroad 
 would bring them to meet you and the other 
 children of their departed sister. Let this be 
 enforced on their minds. Life is long enough, 
 if we would only think so; and whenever a dear 
 friend is lost to us, who lived not two days 
 journey from us, and we met not for the last five 
 years, a pang of regret mixes with the reflection, 
 how easy might have been the meeting effected. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 * George and Sam Stillman, brothers of Mrs. James Savage, and living 
 in Virginia. 
 
To HIS Daughter. 
 
 174 
 
 Boston, 27 Febr., 53. 
 
 My dear Child y — It seems a very long time 
 since I last wrote a word to you, and truly it is 
 'quite three weeks since the date of your des- 
 patch from Richmond informing me of your 
 reaching that city that evening. But then you 
 are in the situation of a gatherer from other 
 sources, bound to return to each, though all 
 have communication with each other. Eliza, 
 Harriet, and James always take care to allow 
 me to partake in the letters they get from you; 
 as do I to them. 
 
 James, you know, must leave us in three 
 days, and he has given one hour a day to my 
 genealog. researches by reading to me from a 
 private newspaper, that had copies from the 
 old records of Woburn. Such is part of my 
 preparation for the work that I shall not, prob- 
 ably, live to finish, for it may take as long as 
 already has been given to it, that is seven years. 
 However no anxiety touches me about the 
 affair, such as was felt before reimpression of 
 Winthrop began. So great progress has been 
 attained in that undertaking, that the first sheet 
 of the second volume was by me returned yes- 
 terday to the printer. Quite a good looking 
 
175 
 
 work will be the new edition. The work will 
 be sought for, fifty years hence, in libraries, 
 though it may never be 3. popular book; and my 
 name will be kept up by it, when nobody alive 
 can remember your assiduous father. 
 
 Very pleasant letter by the last steamer I got 
 from my admirable friend Mr. Hunter, enclos- 
 ing copy of a note by Lord Braybrook to his 
 fifth edition of Pepys's Memoirs, in which he 
 acknowledges my service in enabling him to 
 correct an error about Sir George Downing, who 
 was one of the first class ever graduated at our 
 Harvard College and nephew of our first Gov- 
 ernour Winthrop. So I must soften the men- 
 tion of his Lordship's concurrence in the uni- 
 versal error, and may feel bound to send him 
 a copy of my work. But my freedom of re- 
 mark, unpleasant to many sufferers, would 
 turn severe comments, if upon the noble Editor 
 I bestowed any blandishments. If ever any 
 body was less afraid of comments, however, 
 for publishing notes embodying sincere opin- 
 ions, nor scrupulously expressed in hesitating 
 phraseology, he must have been an easy, if 
 not an impudent man. I would give no 
 writer or worker in our country's history der- 
 ogatory epithets, if he did not deserve them; but 
 
1/6 
 
 never would I restrain, if he did deserve, cen- 
 sure. 
 
 Monday, 28 Feb, We have a young flight of 
 snow this forenoon, but how old it is to grow, 
 is wholly uncertain, for nobody can tell, whether 
 the wind will be Northeast or Southeast, when 
 it freshens. Yesterday, however, the snow- 
 drops came into blossom, and the crocus in 
 sunny places threw its strong shoots into the 
 open air. 
 
 I break off, to get this scrawl into the mail, 
 by assurance of 
 
 Your affectionate father 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 
 Boston, id April, *53. 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — All your letters are very 
 interesting to me, but the last of 29 March 
 seemed peculiarly so, because it referred so 
 much to your views of leaving Virginia to come 
 to pass the residue of your days, or at best of 
 my days, in your native place. But one thing 
 you say about going with your husband to assist 
 Henry in the Pennsylvania mountains, that 
 
177 
 
 must be subjected to a qualification. You 
 must not think to have my leave to make much 
 of a stop there. If WiUiam desires to stay by 
 Henry after the 20 July, you must come to 
 Sunny Hill, because I can then send James for 
 your escort. August and September are more 
 pleasant at Lunenburg than in almost any other 
 part of the V7orld. 
 
 We have had nobody visiting with us for some 
 weeks. Miss Cobb gave us a tolerable portion 
 of the winter, and would have come again last 
 week; but her grandfather's sudden death last 
 Sunday, after few hours' paralysis, prevents 
 such gratification for some time yet. She and 
 her mother were here only two days before Mr. 
 Crocker's death. I had promised myself the 
 benefit of a visit from Mr. Judd,* but a letter 
 from him last week denies me this pleasure. 
 However I had written to him before, that he 
 must give me larger benevolence, if he post- 
 poned his aid until summer, and must feel the 
 propriety of my compromise. Winthrop so 
 occupies my time, that I could hardly give two 
 hours a day to the genealogy, if Judd were here 
 with all his apparatus. More than half of the 
 second volume of W. is already printed, and I 
 am quite easy, if my life be spared to finish this; 
 
 * Sylvester Judd of Northampton ; Antiquarian. 
 
178 
 
 and could leave the big Dictionary to be pub- 
 lished by another hand. 
 
 Because I speak thus of uncertainty in ter- 
 minating my labors, you must not think, that 
 I am any wise out of health. Probably I have 
 not been so well these twenty years. But the 
 case of our dear friend Judge Gushing forces 
 me to think about the tendency of overstrained 
 efforts. He is, you know, resolved at last to 
 give up to the advice of friends and his physician; 
 and, if he become not more infirm, will embark 
 on 5 May for Liverpool in charge of one of his 
 brothers. We all hope the remedy of total 
 abandonment of his official duties may restore 
 him. A voyage would be most effectual course; 
 if it be not already too late to adopt it. 
 
 April II. Mr. Binney went up on Friday 
 to see about our Lunenburg grounds. Smailes * 
 can no longer undertake to do what we want, 
 and another hand, one who lives at the point of 
 junction of the road running by my house to 
 the Fitchburg road, is to be at work this week, 
 in seeing for pease, and potatoes, and corn, and 
 cucumbers and whatever else may be agreeable. 
 We have now promise of early season, which is 
 usually unfavorable; but the main value of 
 
 * The old gardener. 
 
179 
 
 produce of the soil in New England consisting 
 in grass, we can never tell before the last week 
 of May what may be the yield. 
 
 Little Lucy wins favor every day, especially 
 of all the neighbors. Good health is the chief 
 virtue a baby can exhibit, and it is very striking 
 in her case. Harriet seems to improve daily. 
 What our horrid East winds may do, when they 
 come, I hardly condescend to fear, so much has 
 she gained over any tendency to cough. James, 
 too, appears to be growing stouter. Whether his 
 horse be used enough at Cambridg<e, I know not. 
 
 Eliza thinks, if she can send off the Judge 
 to comfortable voyage in May, she will give 
 you a visit in June to assist you in breaking up 
 housekeeping. 
 
 Bevis has renewed his youth Amos says at 
 L. and will be very glad to see you, as well as 
 Your affectionate 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Boston, 17 May, 1853. 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — I have wished for two or 
 three days to write to you, and especially be- 
 
i8o 
 
 cause Eliza who went from us yesterday week, 
 and probably reached you on Friday, would 
 give you too favorable impression about Har- 
 riet's health. 
 
 Dr. Jackson was called yesterday to consider 
 her case, and before I close this, I may have a 
 conference with him or Hayward to determine 
 what is the prudent course for her. 
 
 Gushing sailed on Thursday, and my hopes 
 are strong, that he may be wholly restored, for 
 he had evidently gained in the three or four 
 weeks since making up his resolution to attempt 
 saving his life. 
 
 Last Wednesday I followed to his tomb the 
 remains of my early friend. Professor Farrar, 
 a classmate in college, who for thirteen years 
 has been daily tormented by neuralgia, and for 
 more than half the time so far overpowered as 
 to render life a burden too grievous to be borne; 
 yet with such an admirable wife and all favorable 
 circumstances surrounding, that life was too 
 pleasant to be willingly resigned. May I not 
 feel the unwillingness to depart, even without 
 enduring one hundredth part of the suffer- 
 ing! 
 
i8i 
 
 This morning was the time for the solemnity 
 of the marriage of your young friend Lucy 
 Emerson. All good wishes and promises attend 
 her. 
 
 You may see Lady Lyell in New York, pos- 
 sibly, as you come North, for he and she come 
 to the exhibition next month. 
 
 Yours affectionately, as ever, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 Give my love to your husband and Eliza. 
 
 Lunenburg, 27 June, 1853. 
 
 To William Barton Rogers. 
 
 My dear Son, — I rejoice most heartily, that 
 this will, probably, be the last letter you can 
 ever expect from me, while bound to that 
 University of Virginia, and that even the same 
 day that this comes to your hand, you will be 
 free from the long engagement. That you 
 may feel no slight emotions of regret at parting, 
 is easily imagined for you have most honorably 
 been treated by the administration of the In- 
 stitution, I presume; and certainly you must 
 have gained some thing more than mere ex- 
 perience in teaching, while so many years em- 
 ployed in communicating knowledge to others. 
 
l82 
 
 So there will always be pleasant associations 
 with the vicinity of Charlottesville. 
 
 But now what is before you to rejoice in ? 
 Much I hope beside the making me rejoice in 
 my child's restoration to me after so many as 
 four years' absence. Consider, that four years 
 more hardly remain to me to be fulfilled. I 
 may live twice four years; but it would be very 
 unreasonable to expect it. Never have I en- 
 joyed better health, nor spirits, eating and 
 sleeping to admiration; yet the year of three 
 score and ten draws on apace, and why should 
 not my children be near me before my going 
 hence to be seen no more. The terrible in- 
 security of Harriet's health almost every day 
 compels me to think, that I shall probably 
 outlive her; and though my confidence in James 
 leads me to hope fifty or sixty years more are 
 before him, yet he is still green in the experience 
 of life, and untaught in the employment that 
 is to rule his days. 
 
 That happiness of perpetual engagement you 
 will enjoy, when freed from your slavery, as 
 much as when you daily labored for task- 
 masters. 
 
 You have no time, I dare say, on the reception 
 of this letter, to turn to anything but pushing 
 
i83 
 
 for departure; and I will delay you no longer, 
 than to tell, that Judge Gushing reached London 
 on I June, was at Chapman's and had begun 
 to see sights, on the 3d. 
 
 If you propose to leave Emma to finish the 
 latter part of her journey to me alone, you 
 must so advise me. Of course you will, I pre- 
 sume, come as far as New York to see the 
 great exhibition, and the crowds assembled 
 from all places under the sun to witness it; and 
 what shall hinder your passing some week or 
 ten days here either before or after the scien- 
 tific meeting at Cleveland, however desirous, 
 Henry may be of your assistance .? 
 
 Rejoice with me, I charge you, for in the same 
 mail bag that takes this to Boston, goes the last 
 page of proof sheet for the very Index of the 
 History of Winthrop. Naturally you will con- 
 clude, that my attention to this work, for which 
 to complete my life was prolonged without an 
 hour's interruption since it began last No- 
 vember, has delayed the progress of the great 
 Dictionary of N. E. Genealogy. Yes, so it has, 
 but not interrupted it since the preparation of 
 my annotations on W. closed with the month of 
 April. Still, very few days, even here, have seen 
 
1 84 
 
 a whole page of the early settlers transcribed, 
 but last week closed the letter N. that had begun 
 in Temple Place last month. O. is a short 
 letter that can hardly hold me over a fortnight; 
 but P is so populous, that I shall hardly finish 
 the canvassing of it before going down to winter 
 quarters. 
 
 You may not find any great change at Sunny 
 Hill, though two of the nearest neighbors, to 
 wit. Southwest and Northwest, have just finished 
 putting up large new barns; but Bevis wants 
 to see you very much. 
 
 If you chance to hear in Virginia any con- 
 tempt for Massachusetts Convention to amend 
 our Constitution, be submissive, only offering 
 the explanation, that our people became tired 
 of enjoying the best constitution of any land 
 the sun shone upon, and the reformers, or free 
 soilers, or abolitionists, or radicals, or by what- 
 ever name you would prefer to call them, were 
 allowed to have their own way in projecting 
 and offering amendments, and great fears are 
 entertained, that they will not go so far in the 
 architecture of ruin, as to call out the substantial 
 yeomanry of the Commonwealth to reject with 
 scorn one or another piddling amendments so 
 called. No certainty can be felt about any re- 
 
i85 
 
 suit in the body of the destructionists that will 
 affect the core of our institutions; but the men 
 who know, they might sigh in vain for an office 
 of high responsibility and permanence under 
 our present wise system of nomination and 
 confirmation by Governor and Council, can 
 easily see, how much better is their chance, 
 when the place is to be filled by a popular vote 
 under dictation of a caucus of demagogues. 
 Away with all restraints on the rights of the 
 people, is the cry of today; and the dearest 
 rights may be lost by a change of administrative 
 form in filling the places of solemn importance. 
 Well, if we have not the privilege of ruining 
 ourselves, what privilege have we ? 
 
 I have, every day, except last Monday and 
 Tuesday, when the thermometer ran up to 
 98, walked to church or post office, tell Emma, 
 and am now going at twelve, noon, to carry 
 this evidence of my affection for her and you. 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg, 31 Aug. 53. 
 To Prof. R. at Philadelphia. 
 
 My dear Son, — I was gratified yesterday by 
 the coming of your despatch from Philadelphia 
 
1 86 
 
 with post mark of Saturday last, but dated 25th. 
 Probably you mistook by one day, or even two, 
 the day of the month. It is of more importance 
 that you tell me of having daily accounts from 
 Emma at Cape May and that she is so well. 
 
 To answer your question about Greenfield 
 commission for purchase of fossils made by 
 Mr. Marsh, I can only say, that my acquaint- 
 ance in that region is almost confined to the 
 member of Congress from that District at the last 
 session, who is relieved from the slavery by 
 their closing his term, Wendell T. Davis, a 
 gentleman of established character, nephew of 
 my ancient, deceased friend, Judge Davis. 
 I suppose, unless he has an interest to swell 
 the price, you would be little likely to find any- 
 body nearer than Amherst College, whose skill 
 in making the requisite bargain would be more 
 relied on; but from Amherst will come a strong 
 stimulus to raise the price by competition. Or 
 not improbable is it, that somebody will author- 
 ize Hitchcock to give a round sum, and then 
 enjoy the credit of making a splendid benefaction 
 to his college. 
 
 Last Saturday evening Dr. Gannett came to 
 preach for us on Sunday, but he left us to go to 
 town for the purpose of preparing a sermon on 
 
18; 
 
 Govr. Paine of Vermont, to be delivered to- 
 morrow up at his residence, whither his corpse 
 has been brought from Texas. Paine was his 
 classmate. 
 
 I Sept. 
 
 James begins terms at Cambridge to-day, and 
 has, I hope, laid in a stock of health to sustain 
 him. He was last week at Taunton and Dighton 
 on visit with Eliza. 
 
 Peaches are now exceedingly abundant ten, 
 twelve, fourteen dozen a day, and they are 
 generally very fine. 
 
 The work goes on well, and my health justifies 
 a folio page for each day. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 Pray kind regards to your brother and his 
 wife. 
 21 GiRARD St., 
 
 Philadelphia. 
 
 LUNENBERG, 12 SePT. '53. 
 
 To HIS Daughter at Wilkesbarre. 
 
 My dear Child^ — We shall leave Lunenburg 
 much earlier than I desired, out of regard to 
 the comfort of Harriet, whose health fluctuates 
 
i88 
 
 with every change of the atmosphere, and at 
 times alarms me very much. Probably the 
 last day of Septr. may find or carry the last of 
 our circle; but some preparation in town is first 
 necessary. 
 
 Yesterday we had Mr. Stone from Bolton, 
 formerly at Salem, and before that of East 
 Machias, to exchange with Mr. Babcock, and 
 we had him also to lunch and after evening 
 service to dine at Sunny Hill. So a fortnight 
 before we had Dr. Gannett; but he came to 
 spend two nights at our house, which Mr. 
 Stone could not do. 
 
 We had a great deal of very warm weather 
 since you left us, and the peaches have ripened 
 with too great rapidity. It is a fortnight to- 
 day since report was obtained of the -first one, 
 and we had in two days more than we could 
 all eat. Miss Binney from Boston came to us 
 on Friday before last, and we have had a steady 
 competition between her and Miss Holway, with 
 occasional exertion of my own to determine who 
 deserved the highest credit for devouring most 
 peaches. Of course baskets full are sent around 
 or down to Boston; and this afternoon is one 
 
1 89 
 
 to be despatched to James at the University. 
 Even the Isabella grapes on the trellis are glis- 
 ening like the Virginia negroes after a dance. 
 
 Frosts there have been, but of course only 
 in the low grounds; I heard that the South v^est 
 corner of my land, towards Whiting's, showed 
 signs of it in the vines. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 Wilkes Barre, Pa. 
 
 Lunenburg, 22 Sept. 53. 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — Yours of 9th from Scranton 
 came last week to gladden me, and I postponed 
 reply for a day or two, that with greater con- 
 fidence you might receive the arrangement of 
 our affairs here. No doubt this is the last letter 
 from L. this season for your eye, because we 
 resolve next week on Thursday to go down to 
 Boston; and some considerable preparation 
 you are aware belongs to dislodgement from 
 summer quarters. 
 
 Miss Cobb came up with Amos night before 
 last, so we have now a reasonable exhilaration 
 in the household; Miss Holway giving herself 
 
190 
 
 for one hour in lamplight to my game of back- 
 gammon, and Miss Cobb to the piano for va- 
 riety to the baby and her parents. Reasonably 
 has the baby improved in accomplishments, 
 crawling or creeping in all directions, and tak- 
 ing much satisfaction in the use of her teeth, 
 that machinery w^hich cost so much and so 
 long time and suffering. Her cunning ways 
 of expression and gesture are kept up; and I 
 doubt if ever a thing so young had greater at- 
 traction. But then you may think me a partial 
 judge, especially since her nurse two days ago 
 brought her in, to be shown in the library, 
 eating rye hasty pudding.* 
 
 You may see in the papers that Professor 
 Norton died at Newport last Sunday; and, for 
 some qualifications, nobody can supply the 
 loss in the present generation. So my own 
 feeling goes, and much is it stirred by Mr. Nor- 
 ton's death, for nobody except his brother, 
 Mr. Guild, is left of our schoolfellows so near 
 on equality of years. We were together in 
 1797-8 at the academy in his native town, they 
 following me one year at Cambridge. How 
 long I may last, is of very trifling consequence, 
 except as my engagement on the great book is 
 
 ♦ Mr. Savage's favorite dish. 
 
91 
 
 concerned. You need not be afraid, but that 
 I shall cheerfully continue to work in that 
 mine, as long as any new veins or drifts can be 
 explored. Perhaps twenty years unmitigated 
 service would be profitably expended; but then 
 seven eighths of the period may better be left 
 to one or half a dozen other men to complete. 
 Our peaches were too profuse, the pig, in- 
 stead of a peck a day, as last year, being con- 
 demned to a half bushel, and utterly unable to 
 dispose of so great a quantity. But the season 
 closed yesterday, and no more remains of our 
 harvest, except one tree that will be not ripened 
 when we abandon the premises. More valu- 
 able crop, the potatoes, is less encouraging. 
 We fear the disease has seized all of one patch; 
 and perhaps the other may be partially touched, 
 though of a very distinct species. The to- 
 matoes, beets, cabbages, squashes will fill as 
 many barrels, however, as comfortably can 
 be taken from here and bestowed at Temple 
 Place; and the watermelons have been ex- 
 ceedingly fehcitous in catching sun beams. 
 
 I rejoice that your husband is busy, and hope 
 he may ever be so, like your father 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
192 
 
 Boston, 10 October, 1853. 
 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — You can easily guess how 
 much Hkehhood, that you should get a letter 
 from me in the first ten days after my return to 
 Boston, there was, without my specifying all 
 the engagements that were first to be met. 
 One advantage or disadvantage of keeping 
 up a house in town and also in the country 
 must be that on each removal, by change of 
 season, from country to town, and to town from 
 the country, there is something new to be done. 
 
 For my great work nothing can be said. In- 
 stead of a folio page per day, as Lunenburg 
 could show on the average, I have done less than 
 a single line, having only turned to the page 
 three times since coming to town; but I pro- 
 pose very soon to give four hours a day to it, at 
 least to make that average, and when that is 
 fairly begun, I may say the amount must be 
 half a page a day. 
 
 Nothing in literature of our country has had 
 such rapid success as your cousin Geo. S. Hil- 
 lard's Six Months in Italy. Having finished 
 it the day preceding my last at L. I forthwith 
 began the first volume for second perusal. A 
 third edition is preparing, the second having 
 
193 
 
 been less than three weeks in public; and I 
 can feel no doubt that it is by this time printed 
 and soon to be on sale in London. I feel con- 
 fident there is no book on Italy so well written 
 for the great objects that draw travel to that 
 world. But Washington Irving, Prescott, Tick- 
 nor, Everett, Bancroft, make large demands on 
 the capacity of admiration that Englishmen 
 and women bestow on our writers; and the gen- 
 erous exultation they feel in our success will 
 come out anew, or greatly do I mistake. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Boston, i8 October, '53. 
 lo HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — Your few lines of 12th came 
 to hand last Saturday and gladly were they re- 
 ceived, as it was time to hear of the leaving the 
 wilderness. 
 
 We have had no cold yet to boast of. For 
 seven days it has been quite summer weather, 
 eight days ago a frosty morning brought on 
 this exquisite latter geniality. 
 
 Harriet went last Wednesday to Taunton, 
 as was projected, and she is expected to return 
 
194 
 
 tomorrow. Mary I. Cooper came up last Sat- 
 urday evening, and Miss Holway, who rejoices 
 in the sobriquet of "Countess," arrived this 
 morning. In such bright weather, every thing 
 ought to go well. 
 
 Cushing's children seem to be highly satisfied 
 with the presence of Eliza Cooper, and perhaps 
 Mary is delighted with the opportunity of taking 
 Helen Cooper round to see the delights of the 
 city, the chief of which, beyond all competition, 
 is the common with its autumnal glories. 
 
 I was just now called off, as the young folks 
 are gone abroad, to receive my cousin, Mrs. 
 Gardiner, arrived today from New York, 
 though she left her husband there to attend 
 to the concerns of the church in the great trien- 
 nial convention. 
 
 Be careful to present my sincere regards to 
 
 Mr. Robert Rogers and his wife, and do not 
 
 make it too late before you come to Boston. 
 
 Whom do you expect to visit at New York ? 
 
 You will, of course, let us hear from you there, 
 
 and give indication of the day, when you will 
 
 again embrace 
 
 Your affectionate father, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
195 
 
 Boston, 23 January '54. 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child ^ — Your long delay had almost 
 exhausted my patience, because you nearly as 
 good as advised me not to write before receiving 
 your instruction for address, and what you sent 
 me from Philadelphia was not that instruction, 
 though very agreeable relation. This morning 
 your hand writing of 20 Inst, is brought, and I 
 make no delay to bestow my benediction upon 
 you. 
 
 I was never in better health, in spite of the 
 sloppy weather that lasted ten days and closed 
 on Saturday night last with a hearty North- 
 wester. I go abroad almost every evening, 
 because my eyes do not well bear steady ap- 
 plication in writing by the gaslight; but my 
 household attraction is something increased by 
 the coming of your brother from the University. 
 Still he can hardly pass as many hours with me 
 as I desire, and next week he projects an ex- 
 cursion to New York and Philadelphia for 
 visiting a classmate at each city. 
 
 We have had large opportunity for expressing 
 our sympathy with the Gardiners. They came 
 to Boston Friday before last, and the next day 
 was heard of the wreck of the steamer San 
 
196 
 
 Francisco, in which their son, W. H. Tudor 
 Gardiner, Captain of the Light Dragoons, was 
 a passenger on his way to join his regiment in 
 Cahfornia. The ship sailed two days before 
 Christmas, out two days only of her voyage 
 round Cape Horn, she was deprived of the benefit 
 of her engine, at the beginning of a storm, the 
 next day lost the masts, and was wholly at the 
 mercy of the winds and waves. When a sea 
 struck her, before three days out, the upper 
 deck was swept away, and all the persons, in 
 that part lodging, were carried overboard. He 
 was covered by a piece of the wreck, when almost 
 two hundred, officers and men, were floundering 
 in the ocean, of whom only two were saved. 
 Poor fellow he suffered every thing, but death, 
 having no dress but his dressing gown, and for 
 many hours could not even get a blanket, and 
 that wet through. At the end of six days he 
 was taken off by a Boston ship, from New 
 Orleans, and she in distress for want of pro- 
 visions and water. On board this relief vessel 
 they spent a fortnight, eating plain corn and 
 drinking water caught from the rains. How- 
 ever he is doing well, though unable to move 
 freely by reason of violent rheumatism and 
 bruises, and got here last Friday to see his 
 
197 
 
 parents and sisters. He had been transferred 
 two days before reaching New York, to a third 
 ship. 
 
 Sincere love to your husband and self 
 
 from 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Boston, 5 Febr. '54. 
 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — We had wonderfully cold 
 weather last Sunday and Monday, not so 
 low a state of thermometer for sixteen years, 
 it is said; and now today again it is very sharp 
 air, about 2° early in the morning. These 
 extremes are always followed here by wet, and 
 last Wednesday was an universal thaw, in which 
 I caught a vexatious hoarseness. Perhaps this 
 spell today may pass off with snow, as it must 
 begin in that shape, and if it come not very 
 copious, I shall hope we get off with little wet. 
 
 With love to William, 
 
 Yours 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
198 
 
 Boston, 22 Febr. '54. 
 
 To HIS Daughter at Richmond, Va. whither 
 
 Prof. Rogers had gone, in the hope of 
 
 the success of a bill then pending, 
 
 asking for the final revision and 
 
 PUBLICATION OF THE StATE GEOLOGICAL 
 
 Reports. 
 My dear Child, — Your agreeable news of 
 nth Inst, would produce the impression, that 
 uncertain action of the Legislature might detain 
 you at Richmond until the end of Febr. or of 
 March. It is one of my most gratifying con- 
 victions, that never again shall my comfort 
 depend on what may be done or left undone 
 by the legislative body. The greatest nuisance 
 in our country (and that is saying a great deal) 
 is the session of its assembled wisdom, periodi- 
 cally, confound it! that is for a period of three, 
 four or five months every year, beside the tre- 
 mendous bore of the general congress of cor- 
 ruption at Washington, that beats, in time and 
 money wasted, all the thirty one state nonsenses 
 out and out. Yet it is a necessary evil that 
 nobody would more than myself lament the 
 want of. But let us more and more, to our 
 dying day, keep clear of the general court, or 
 general assembly, that we may enjoy good con- 
 
199 
 
 science without suspicion by our neighbors that 
 we have been imposing on the credulity, or 
 tempting the avarice of distinguished members 
 of the illustrious bodies. 
 
 Poor Lucy has been greatly afflicted. 
 
 The severity of teething for four months has 
 constantly prevented any improvement in flesh, 
 and, week before last, the measles appeared for 
 the second time, with a train of coughs and 
 sore throat and eye complaints to destroy all 
 benignity of smile or roughness of hilarity. In 
 two or three weeks, probably, Harriet, Amos, 
 and the baby will go off^ for the South to escape 
 our biting East winds until the last week of 
 May. Such is Hayward's advice, and I ap- 
 prove. 
 
 Of James we have heard only from New York 
 the week after his departure from us. What his 
 happiness has been he has not told us; nor can 
 expect now so late to learn before his return, 
 that must be expected next week. At least the 
 vacation ends, I believe with this month. 
 Winter enough, at least for a few days, he must 
 have had. Yesterday morning we could find 
 in Boston streets three inches of new snow, 
 when New York had three times as much, 
 Philadelphia six times as much, and even Balti- 
 
200 
 
 more was no better conditioned than Phila- 
 delphia. 
 
 Love to William, 
 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 from yours 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Boston, ii March, 1854. 
 
 My dear Child, — Eliza was married last 
 Sunday .? The service was at the church in 
 Freeman place.* 
 
 Sunday evening. 
 I hear that you were alive and well last 
 Wednesday, because Eliz. Gushing, the judge's 
 wife,t got last evening advice from you of that 
 date, and that you and William were packing 
 up for the next day's leaving Richmond, and 
 Mr. H. D. R., whom for the first time since the 
 marriage I visited this afternoon to take tea 
 with them, tells me you must stop a day or two 
 at Washington, and probably reach Phila- 
 delphia next Thursday. So I shall send this 
 thither. It is a great relief both to him and 
 
 * Elizabeth Stillman Lincoln to Henry Darwin Rogers. Sunday, 
 March 5th, 1854. 
 f Second wife. 
 
20I 
 
 me that this news came, for it is a cruel long 
 time since we got any account of you. 
 
 Monday, 13 Mar. 
 As the days improve in length and tempera- 
 ture, I make some improvement in my Dic- 
 tionary work, having actually finished three 
 pages in two weeks, and now there remains but 
 one and a half page of blank in the third folio. 
 Perhaps I may open the fourth at the equinox, 
 and have a day of rejoicing, as I remember the 
 third was opened at Lunenburg in 1852. 
 Your affectionate father 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Boston 31 May 1854 
 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — Gladly was your letter of 
 24th from Fairmount, Va. received last Friday, 
 and so rapid a transmission encourages me to 
 feel as if you were not far off. Next evening 
 came one of the same date from Mr. Binney 
 at Cincinnati that afforded me much relief 
 from apprehension, and on Monday I got one 
 from Harriet remaining at C. last Friday where 
 they had reached the preceding Sunday. She 
 says nothing about her health; and Amos's let- 
 
202 
 
 ter encourages me to expect that she is as well as 
 when she left Boston. Poor, indeed, is such con- 
 solation; but better than my fears from the 
 language of Mr. Gardiner, and the tone of re- 
 marks by his mother. Probably they may 
 reach Boston early next week. 
 
 Of course, I have bestowed not a minute on 
 any of the occurrences of the anniversary week 
 being too feeble to contribute to exhilaration 
 and unwilling to mar it in others, except the 
 blessed Mass. Congrel. Charit. Society, of which 
 so many as seventeen years I was Treasurer. 
 If tomorrow be as pleasant as today, I may 
 indulge myself with a formal meeting of the 
 Soc. for Prop, the Gospel among the Indians, 
 etc. 
 
 Love to your husband from your affectionate 
 father 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Boston, Monday 12 June. 
 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — This morning is announced 
 the engagement between Ellen Cooledge and 
 Edmund Dwight, which is very well thought of 
 by their friends of both sides. 
 
203 
 
 James, of course, was with us yesterday, 
 would not be in town next Sunday, even if we 
 were; because being the last of his college term, 
 a valedictory will be given by Presdt. Walker. 
 Next week the youth closes his residence at 
 Cambridge. Now can he, can you, can I, 
 feel confident, that he has gained by the oppor- 
 tunity enjoyed there! What shall be his course 
 of life hence forward is to be determined; and 
 in a merely vulgar estimate of facility of earning 
 a living, that used to be the first thought of 
 every body, and may now be too little regarded, 
 I fear few young men can be found to whom 
 less pay per month would be offered. It is 
 good to have something always in view, and his 
 notions about horticulture may, possibly, turn 
 up better than I expect. 
 
 Yours affectionately 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg i8 Aug. '55. 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — Your letter of Wednesday 
 was very gratifying to me yesterday. So then 
 you had excellent success in all your plans for 
 motion up to the mountains of Berkshire one 
 
204 
 
 day, down to the vale of Worcester next day, 
 and the following morning to the noble city of 
 Providence. 
 
 Remaining stationary, some changes have 
 occurred. What do you think was the matter 
 that Mr. Babcock would communicate to his 
 people last Sunday afternoon ? Well, the com- 
 munication was, that he had made up his mind 
 to leave his present station on the walls of Zion 
 next October. This was learned by Susan 
 when, last Wednesday, she took a drive round 
 the village and called at Miss Caldwell's. I 
 fear the town will once more have to go through 
 the difficulty of making up a decent attendance 
 at church, which a new minister is sure to render 
 delusive. 
 
 Eliza wished to have the children from Mrs. 
 Cushing's to relieve her of the fatigue of keeping 
 Edith in good humour, while this horrid state 
 of teeth preparation continues; but Mary had 
 gone to Clinton to visit her cousins, so we had 
 to be content with the two younger. Yesterday 
 afternoon, Stephen and Frederic Burrill came 
 to see us, having left Newton in the early after- 
 noon train, and reached Fitchburg at half past 
 two. They go today to Stockbridge, and were 
 very agreeable guests; beside which in the 
 
205 
 
 evening half an hour after sunset came Frank A. 
 Hillard, with his wife, child, and a German 
 girl to attend the baby, who is a perfect model of 
 a servant as far as five minutes observation may 
 justify me in forming opinion. She would do 
 for a soldier, five feet ten inches high, and 
 better looking than one in ten thousand. 
 
 Of James* I may hear by this morning's mail, 
 and will send with this, which I will keep un- 
 sealed, if anything comes for you. 
 
 I am in perfect health, and hope next week, 
 before the middle of it, to show you how strong 
 is your affectionate father 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 
 Boston, 4 Dec. 1855. 
 To HIS Son, James. 
 
 My dear Son, — Our latest advices from you 
 are of 25 Oct. which is, I think, a wider separa- 
 tion than any previous one since you left us 
 almost fourteen months ago. Very pleasant 
 was your tale of the quiet, first enjoyed for five 
 months, on reaching winter quarters at Berlin. 
 Whether in the study or in the laboratory, you 
 will often think, that the advantages you enjoy 
 
 * His son in Europe. 
 
206 
 
 are so to be improved, that, next summer, on 
 reaching your native land, you may feel equal 
 to earning your livelihood in some way. What 
 that course may be, is matter of less con- 
 sequence, if several forms of employment lie 
 open to your choice; and however easy it might 
 be for you in either of them to earn bread and 
 butter, I shall expect you to select, after large 
 survey, that one in which most progress may 
 be acquired. Of use to obtain the -first step 
 here in promotion for life, would be your bring- 
 ing a diploma for some degree in science; it 
 may be very unimportant what the name of the 
 science is, but let it be reputable. Now this 
 must not be sought at too great expense (I 
 speak not of money, for that in Germany must 
 be small, but time) so that you should not wait 
 for such honor more than a fortnight longer 
 than otherwise you would. If your acquisitions 
 in our own country, with the appliances of a 
 semestre at Munich, and now another at Berlin, 
 do not qualify for a degree, why I suppose you 
 
 never would desire one. 
 
 5 Dec. 
 
 Your account of a Mr. S. of Hartford, member 
 of our Historial Society, is rather indistinct. I 
 imagine the relator said Conn. His. Society. 
 
207 
 
 But probably you pay little heed to what an 
 American may tell of his distinctions at home. 
 Not that I mean, you should look with suspicion 
 upon every countryman you meet, though in 
 certain parts of Europe, where the English 
 language may seem a passport, perhaps the 
 majority may better be distrusted; yet to doubt 
 the bragging of any one, countryman or others, 
 will always be prudent. 
 
 I presume you may fall in with Ben. A. Gould 
 at Berlin, who is engaged in looking up astro- 
 nomical instruments for an observatory to be 
 set up at Albany, I believe. He was at Cam- 
 bridge observatory some part of your collegiate 
 curriculum, and is one of the worshippers of 
 Professor Pierce. 
 
 Your friend Willy Binney's wife I saw at his 
 mother's about three weeks ago, and hope to 
 have both of them here some evening this week. 
 
 We are quite engaged, I mean the religious 
 society of Dr. Gannett, in looking round as to 
 the probability of finding a site for the new 
 church edifice we hope to erect. You may live 
 to see it finished, but my desire is far stronger 
 than expectation. Vacant lots are not to be 
 seen in this city convenient in distance from 
 
2o8 
 
 the dwellings of most of the worshippers; and 
 against the only one that presents itself, the 
 corner of Boylston and Tremont Streets, where 
 is Park Hall, a few would go to great expense 
 in pulling down houses on a more elevated spot, 
 and another few would pull down in another 
 spot, and another, and another, — so that it must 
 .appear doubtful until the land is bargained for. 
 My plan was to order sale of our Federal Street 
 estate, as that would lead to a prompt decision, 
 and in every disease, bodily or political, the 
 speediest treatment is the course of conduct al- 
 ways recommended by your impatient father 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Boston, 25 Dec. 1856. 
 To HIS Daughter at Philadelphia. 
 
 My dear Child ^ — A merry Christmas is wished 
 to Girard Street from Temple Place. It was 
 high delight on Monday morning to get your 
 good account of the journey, so punctually 
 performed, and that your husband was im- 
 proving in his apparent health. Eliz. Gushing 
 got yesterday morning advice of the same en- 
 couragement written on Monday, and I hear. 
 
209 
 
 that Henry had received the full despatch at the 
 same time. 
 
 We have done very well since you left us, 
 hardly the slightest change in any particular 
 having occurred, except the obtaining a new 
 cord of wood before the snow came on Monday. 
 
 Last evening at the Club, happening to be 
 seated next to Lowell for ten minutes, I mentioned 
 the absence of Mr. Rogers, and its cause, what 
 degree of hope there was of his return with 
 sufficient energy to carry off the course of 
 lectures without postponement. He was de- 
 sirous of the earliest information, if it v/ere 
 desirable that the next course (Rev. Mr. Alger's) 
 should be first given. Clergymen are wont not 
 to be ready many minutes before the day ap- 
 pointed for the service; but in case of Will- 
 iam's needing the delay, it might even be ex- 
 cusable to postpone, a week, the opening of a 
 course. But first and chiefest is the recovery 
 of William's strength. It is now nineteen days 
 to the first lecture; but the drawing for the seats 
 might well be advertised next week, though the 
 first of the following week would be sufficient. 
 Dr. Cotting is rather punctilious about his 
 annunciations. But we must hope that William 
 may not be compelled to delay his course to an 
 
210 
 
 Opening on 24 Febr'y for that, you see, would 
 make the closing so late as 7 April. 
 
 With my best love to William, Robert, and 
 Fanny, I am, as ever. 
 
 Your affectionate father, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 21 GiRARD St. 
 
 Philadelphia. 
 
 Boston, 14 March, 1859. 
 
 My dear Mr. Winthrop, — I rejoice much, that 
 our friend, Mr. Sears, has cancelled the deed, 
 herewith returned. It seems to me, however the 
 liberality of his mind in this benefaction to our 
 Society is strongly exhibited, that such a pro- 
 posed act as erecting Temple dedicated to the 
 memory of illustrious men, should not be under- 
 taken by any Society that has other objects. — 
 
 For the fulfilment of such a trust would, 
 almost of necessity, be sure to excite invidious 
 remarks on the decision in nearly every in- 
 stance. Remember the violent suspicions and 
 jealousies caused by the establishment of our 
 most innocent brotherhood of the Cincinnati. 
 Nobody but Washington could ever have 
 breasted the surges of calumny, and he was 
 compelled to assent to material variations 
 
211 
 
 from its original design. Before we could erect 
 a half dozen monuments, the obliquity of the 
 judgment of the public would compel men of 
 high sense to abandon the undertaking. 
 With highest regards, dear Sir, 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg, 20 July '59. 
 To HIS Daughter in Canada. 
 
 My dear Child, — Had not the usual bad luck 
 attended the letter from your brother James, 
 that he wrote yesterday week to be sent by a 
 man going down the lake, though postmarked 
 Keeseville, July 13, so that by various circum- 
 bendibuses it was retarded, and you could not 
 hear anything of him before your departure. 
 His letter I got on Friday, yours from Temple 
 Place on Saturday, and this morning has brought 
 me good story from Mount Desert. James 
 hopes to write again, he says, on Friday; but 
 his hope must have been frustrate, or his missive 
 would have got here before this. How to ad- 
 dress him, would be a queer problem. ''Bart- 
 letts, between the Lakes,'' is the most exact ren- 
 dering to be put on his whereabouts, yet except 
 
212 
 
 that the landlord has fine hounds and abundance 
 of material for shooting, and the deer are plenty; 
 and though the brook trout are of little account, 
 those of the lakes are much regarded, it might be 
 that we should feel as ignorant of the place 
 since he got there, as before he sat out for it. 
 
 We get along here admirably, but with little 
 variety of incidents. On Sunday I went with 
 Mrs. Hillard to church at Leominster, and 
 would next Sunday drive to Fitchburg. In- 
 deed I asked Miss Gushing on Saturday if she 
 would go with us last Sunday; but she declined, 
 probably on her mother's account. 
 
 There is no change in appearance, except as 
 the large gathering of hay goes on. 
 
 A few letters are over the fire place, two for 
 William from Williamsburg, Virga. and two 
 for you, one from Boston, of the import of which 
 I can form safely no conjecture, the other from 
 Springfield, having probably some reference to 
 the approaching assembly of savants and savant- 
 esses there. 
 
 The hours do not hang heavy, because in the 
 daylight I have more to do in twelve hours than 
 would occupy twenty; but all the time am 
 sensible of responsibility for good health to be 
 preserved, and that the best economy is not to 
 
213 
 
 lose half my days in the next two years by 
 vainly trying to finish the work in a year and 
 three quarters. But in the evening comes the 
 regular trial of my game of patience, in which 
 it is always easy to make variety. Let me not 
 fail to hear of your motions, emotions, and 
 commotions, that proper promotions may fol- 
 low your return to the embrace of your affec- 
 tionate father 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 
 To Mrs. Rogers from her aunt Mrs. Hil- 
 
 LARD. 
 
 Dear Emma, — Make yourself perfectly easy 
 about your Father and myself, we are doing 
 very well, he seems quite contented and happy, 
 and / am so thankful we have no company, 
 I believe I should run away myself if we had. 
 Quiet and solitude are what I need, and what 
 I could not have had any where else, they will 
 do their work with God's blessing, which I hope 
 will not be withheld from me. I have been 
 sorely tryed dear Emma, but I hope I can say 
 God's will be done. I have had letters from 
 Harriett, Oliver and Frank. I hope you will 
 stay just as long as you wish to and have a good 
 
214 
 
 time, the girls behave exactly right, I read the 
 proof sheets, and all is well. 
 
 R. A. H. 
 
 Lunenburg, 27 July '59. 
 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — I might postpone writing to 
 you until there was some thing to tell, but then 
 you would not get the letter probably in the 
 British Province, if any where in this world. 
 Since writing to you there is come advices from 
 James of 17 current at Saranac, of course telling 
 about trout, and the fly (not only that with 
 which that exquisite fish is taken, but the in- 
 festing legion that half ate up the fisherman.) 
 He lays out to make next halt on Lake George 
 at Bolton, thence to Albany probably, and down 
 the Hudson. How would he have a letter ad- 
 dressed to him, do you suppose } 
 
 This indefiniteness of direction is very natural, 
 when people who do not keep in their travelling 
 suits the longest part of the year. But the failure 
 in geography is also to be lamented, and your 
 despatch, of the same date with James's from 
 Saranac, though it well begins at South West 
 
215 
 
 harbour in Mount Desert, and has a postscript 
 from William is wanting both in when and 
 where, except that some conclusion in logic 
 would follow from the writing on the outsidey 
 "Paid 10," that it was betrusted to the mail 
 within the dominions of her blessed majesty 
 Victoria; yet a later despatch of 19th from Bar 
 harbour comes to hand only with U. S. stamp. 
 
 Your Aunt Hillard is gone to Fitchburg to 
 look for hair, that she may set the servants at 
 work, stuffing cushions. We have had ex- 
 cellent times for getting onward in life easy, no 
 warm day since that you left us with. 
 
 On Sunday last we went with Mrs. Thurston 
 to hear the Fitchburg minister, and the pre- 
 ceding Sunday we were at Leominster; but 
 encouragement is held out that next Sunday 
 our own church of Lunenburg shall have its 
 own teacher. 
 
 But I must stop, or the mail can be brought 
 before getting my regular exercise. 
 
 Yours 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Keeping the letter open until reaching the 
 Post office, I have the great pleasure of finding 
 your copious advice of 24th. Nothing later 
 
2l6 
 
 from Jamie. Another letter from Kate Howard 
 at Springfield, so I shall reply as you desire. 
 But other letters over the fire-place may not 
 need to be opened. Now I go home to dinner. 
 
 Lunenburg, Friday, 29 July, 1859. 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — After receiving your advice 
 of last Sunday, that came to us on Wednesday, 
 I opened the note of Kate L. Howard coming 
 that same post, as also the one that came eight 
 days before, and of course, as the subject of the 
 two was your company solicited to make agree- 
 able the Convention of Science next week, I 
 wrote to decline for you, inasmuch as your 
 explorations in the British Province would 
 probably hold you over next week, or, at least, 
 you could not reach here before the end of next 
 week many hours, you could, at best, have the 
 pleasure of partaking in the Scientifics except 
 by a peep near the close of sessions. 
 
 Yesterday the remaining fish prisoners were 
 discharged from the aquarium. Some had 
 diedy so had the salamanders also, and the leeches 
 had not been seen since your departure. Mon- 
 sieur frog had been elevated to a better school 
 
21/ 
 
 in Smailes*s brook; and this is, I believe, all 
 the household economy that you are much 
 interested in. 
 
 A charming note from Harriet Guild that 
 came three days after you left, was opened 
 yesterday and contents should have been noted, 
 had it been necessary. 
 
 Yesterday came letter by the Europa from 
 England; and I run the risk of detaining it, 
 because of uncertainty of its reaching you 
 before you get to Boston. Probably the same 
 mail brought advices from George S. Hillard. 
 
 My health has been perfect, and the chief 
 anxiety about it is, that I may grow too fat, and 
 so less than at present may be the esteem of the 
 world for 
 
 Your affectionate father 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 
 Temple Place, 21 Nov. '60. 
 To Mrs. Rogers. 
 
 My dear Child, — Your exhilarating despatch 
 of Sunday came yesterday to instruct us as to 
 your experience on the journey. 
 
 Gladly you must hear of our gaining the two 
 
2l8 
 
 Gushing girls to pass Sunday with us, although 
 their visit was too short. Eliz. went back to 
 Mr. Porter's on Monday, and we could not keep 
 Fanny over yesterday on account of her music 
 lesson. But the few hours gave us great delight. 
 Eliza has been able to go abroad every day and 
 her daughter has missed going to school only 
 once. 
 
 My amusement by candle light is good enough 
 without straining my eyes over books. From 
 Mrs. Guild at Brookline we have received a fine 
 supply of ripe pears, and at first my hope was 
 to preserve them for you; but they were too 
 good to keep, as decay had set in. 
 
 Much more you must not expect to be told, 
 for the daily gazettes tell everything of general 
 interest; and as to petty affairs, as I have not 
 gone out of the house to any friends, not even 
 to the opposite door, you can wait for the return 
 home to get what turns up, if there be anything 
 worth hearing that escapes me. So I close with 
 best regards to dear brother Robert and his 
 blessed wife, and renewed affection deepened 
 by the long absence of your husband and your- 
 self from your father 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
219 
 
 Lunenburg, Sunday, 7 July 1861. 
 To HIS Son, James. 
 
 My dear Son, — You must not depart without 
 a few words of blessing from me in the most 
 important event of your life that tomorrow you 
 are to enter upon. I could not part with you 
 by direct contact of hands, — da jungene dex- 
 tras — for it almost overcomes my fortitude to 
 contemplate the occurrence. But you know, 
 without being told, how unreservedly I commit 
 you to the call of duty and honor, my only 
 son, and how readily I assent to your devotion 
 to the cause of your country, the great hope of 
 human rights, and the sacred vindication of the 
 integrity of my country. 
 
 In this undertaking for the defence of the 
 glorious constitution of 1789, to which is due 
 all the splendor of our nation's glory and hap- 
 piness, which may require years of self-sacrifice, 
 and of which, under the over-ruling Providence 
 that governs the affairs of men however way- 
 wardly disposed, there can be no doubt of the 
 final result, it may be that my life will not be 
 prolonged to see the close. Be it even so, I 
 know there can never such darkness over- 
 spread our course, that light enough will not 
 continue for us to see the bright termination. 
 
220 
 
 The hope of all nations for our success will not 
 be disappointed; nor in reaching this happy- 
 end, through two or three years, or even longer, 
 of the deadly strife, shall my country ever be 
 brought so low, as in the days of my youth. 
 
 The elasticity of our republican energy is 
 proved solely by the pressure. Four months 
 ago I hardly knew, that there was any country 
 for me to strive or hope for; and in this third 
 of a year what immense change is produced. 
 Did the civilized world ever witness such a revo- 
 lution in so short a time ^ The agony of de- 
 spondence and the universal distrust are over. 
 We, the people of these United States, the off- 
 spring in the seventh and eighth generation of 
 the blessed emigration from England between 
 1620 and 1641, with the added millions of re- 
 generated men from the purest sources of 
 France, Holland, Switzerland, Germany and 
 other countries that could protest against tyranny 
 only by emigration to this side of the ocean, 
 in latter times, have before us the prospect of 
 unequalled national felicity earned and sanctified 
 by the contest so long prepared for by one 
 misguided faction in this land, and so un- 
 willingly undertaken by the body of our popu- 
 lation. 
 
221 
 
 You may chance, in the progress of a few 
 months to see the brothers of your blessed 
 mother, who probably are now, with their long 
 adopted home in Virginia, wishing all evil to 
 our armed hosts. On the banks of the Flu- 
 vanna, not above thirty miles from the Univer- 
 sity of Virginia at Charlottesville, their farm is 
 situated, and though no considerable town is 
 near, your opportunity may occur to partake 
 their hospitality, as it has to me; but you have 
 never, I think, seen that neighborhood. To 
 bring your mother to mind such a visit will not 
 be at all necessary, for you must not fail to re- 
 flect how she would sympathize in your glorious 
 service; and when you, day by day, remember 
 me, I charge you still more devotedly to think of 
 her. What would she feel in your reputation, 
 and how would she advise in any unexperienced 
 emergency that may befall you! It is not in 
 my power to conceive, that my son will ever act 
 in a manner unworthy even of his father; but 
 that his mother's son should fail to show from 
 whom he derived his first lessons of truth and 
 moral dignity is impossible. Think of her, 
 think of her, as still counselling you, though near 
 twelve years have run, since you heard her voice. 
 
 Of course you can sometimes steal a few min- 
 
222 
 
 utes to tell us here, how affairs go on, about 
 which the newspapers must be unable to afford 
 us any light. The soldier's life is not, of ne- 
 cessity, one of unbroken anxiety, like that of his 
 commanding officer, and though every day, 
 almost every hour, must have its round of duty 
 to be performed, the constancy of the occupation 
 will prevent ennui, and often supply pleasure. 
 It is now many years since I have known a 
 single idle day, and for six months to come I 
 expect that every waking hour has claims to 
 forward the completion of my twenty years' 
 service. 
 
 Last Monday I went to Boston, and attended 
 to your business of paying one thousand and 
 thirty dollars to Geo. Putnam to liquidate that 
 portion of the mortgage on your Roxbury prop- 
 erty that would fall due next day, and I have no 
 day light to write a word, but the brief 
 
 Yours 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Sunny Hill, 31 July, 1861. 
 To Mrs. Gardiner at Gardiner, Maine. 
 
 My dear Cousin, — It is very long since the 
 receipt of your agreeable note dated i Inst. 
 
223 
 
 but, from the first day of the month to the latest 
 it would not be easy for the accusing angel to 
 charge me with many idle hours. All my 
 waking time that goes without lamp light is 
 given to the demands of the printer, and the 
 third volume, bigger than either of the preceding, 
 shall be issued next month, barring extraordinary 
 casualties, for the 6ooth page has just now 
 gone from me to be stricken off. 
 
 Of my son we hear with tolerable regularity; 
 and from his regiment the daily newspapers 
 would speedily communicate every thing whether 
 agreeable or disagreeable. But you must not 
 magnify my patriotism, as if the giving up my 
 only son to be a soldier was any devotion. In 
 my sentiment, deeply rooted, the present con- 
 test is to settle permanently (now and forever! 
 you may exclaim), what shall be the course of 
 these United States. Now I feel the great 
 uncertainty, almost the certainty, as to duration 
 of this civil convulsion. Probably I shall not 
 live to see the end; but my share of the expense 
 of the controversy may be a very large or a 
 moderate one; and whether more or less, it is 
 too presumptuous for me to foresee the result. 
 That result must be consistent with the benefit 
 of the human race, as well as the ultimate good 
 
224 
 
 of my country, but it may be a score of years to 
 pass before it is ascertained. The return of 
 peace from this civil war must be slow; it will 
 not, I think, be any other than a gradual ac- 
 quisition. No man is bold enough, I hope, to 
 prophesy the great details of adjustment, much 
 less the inferior ones. As I would readily go 
 myself to partake the peril, were my age not 
 thirty years beyond the propriety of beginning 
 a military career, what right have I to object 
 to the undertaking of my son. He never asked 
 my consent, because he felt sure of my appro- 
 bation unasked; and I would not accept five 
 million dollars to encourage him to leave his 
 duty in so plain a case. 
 
 It grieves me, that your son must forego all 
 the opportunity of showing his spirit and the 
 knowledge of so many years' experience, by 
 the constitutional infirmity; — especially as this 
 very infirmity is the consequence of his severe 
 training in years of Indian service. 
 
 Herewith is the copy of the photograph that 
 Emma has preserved for you; but the other 
 matter, stereoscope, is not to be found. 
 
 Please make your husband know, how much 
 and how often I think of him, especially since 
 day before yesterday brought me the news of the 
 
225 
 
 departure of his classmate, Henry Newman, last 
 Sunday. I saw him a few days before leaving 
 Boston, and he seemed as well as ever, and that 
 is saying much. 
 
 I was never in better health but mindful of 
 the fragility of life after passing 77 years, as I 
 did near three weeks ago. If you have as good 
 season for the main New England crops, hay 
 and potatoes, as we anticipate here, (indeed for 
 the hay we may speak more positively,) you 
 shall not complain of the failure of the benignity 
 of heaven more than could 
 Your affectionate 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Boston, 29 May, '62. 
 To HIS Son James. 
 
 My dear Son, — Our not unreasonable anxiety 
 to hear of you since the terrible retreat from 
 Strasberg was relieved by Major Copeland 
 yesterday, when he dined with us, telling of his 
 receipt of the telegraphic despatch that morn- 
 ing. Today your own precious handwriting, 
 in pencil, last Monday, 26 Inst, from Williams- 
 port, is at hand, and your long impatience for 
 active service has been abundantly rewarded. 
 
226 
 
 I suppose the experience of three days retiring 
 before a superior force of the enemy, especially 
 so greatly disproportionate, with frequent charges 
 and counter-charges of the retreating and pur- 
 suing forces, must much exceed the common in- 
 struction of six months' campaign. Well, the 
 memory may be pleasant next year, and delight- 
 ful in a score of years; but some vexation there 
 will be felt for one or another cross accident in 
 the history, and perhaps some mortification 
 for the failure of this or that platoon or com- 
 pany of whom better things were expected. 
 Horrid obstacles the impedimenta of our clas- 
 sic narratives, the baggage and stores of modern 
 hostilities, must be accounted. In my active 
 life, during alarms of yellow fever, and ap- 
 proaches of cholera, I was accustomed to feel, 
 that of all diseases a panic was the worst. Few, 
 very few of your division, I trust, could suffer 
 the paralysis that the contagion of a panic 
 spreads instantaneously; and when you next 
 month march up the valley of the Shenandoah, 
 the sight of its rocky boundaries, right and left, 
 will be attended with hourly exultation. The 
 loss of companions will longer moderate your 
 enjoyment in the fierce delight of conflict, (that 
 is probably the shortest translation of Tacitus* 
 
227 
 
 graphic illustration of the Manners of the Ger- 
 mans, gaudia certaminis) but the comparing 
 of notes with survivors in a future day will re- 
 vive more vividly the merits of the departed 
 than if they had fallen in the common processes 
 of Providence instead of by the malignity of 
 man. Dear is the purchase, very dear, but the 
 country seems to be unanimously coming to my 
 opinion fourteen months ago, that the prize 
 is worth it, and ten times more, if the outlay 
 reach to that aggregate. 
 
 Emma desires me to ask, if she can do any 
 service in writing for you to parents or near 
 friends of some of your dead or wounded fol- 
 lowers. She gladly would undertake whatever 
 you wish in this behalf; and since last October 
 has been so constantly engaged in labors for the 
 contrabands to supply clothing or instruction 
 or sanitary materials, would enable her to act 
 with equal discretion and promptitude. She is 
 gone this forenoon with Mary Gushing to Mount 
 Auburn that must be just now in its sweetest 
 week of the year, for we have recovered from 
 the backward condition of all the surface of the 
 land three weeks ago; and the exuberance of 
 vegetation makes it probable that our season 
 shall turn out benignantly, especially in fruitSy 
 
228 
 
 the most valuable of which in New England, 
 you know, is grass. Rogers was so much ex- 
 cited by your letter this morning as almost to 
 take up his line of march before dinner to see 
 after your comforts upon the upper waters of 
 the Potomac. However he was calmed by 
 his own reflections; and sticks very diligently 
 to the duties of his oflice,* in which he feels 
 justly the importance of starting right, as no 
 predecessor had furnished example to be 
 shunned or imitated. A year ago we hoped to 
 be this day well advanced on our way to Eng- 
 land, if not actually landed there. This hor- 
 rible rebellion leaves us uncertain of the glorious 
 restoration of our government to undisputed 
 quiet or beneficent activity, but surely there can 
 be no such thing in this year of our Lord. My 
 book is beyond the power of correction and the 
 capacity of delaying me, for the last word of re- 
 vision of the corrected last page of proof was 
 last week sent to Cambridge. There are no 
 more '' k. by the Ind. f " to be taken account of, 
 and my closing of Vol. IV almost certifies me, 
 that all the faults to be found in it will exhaust 
 the patience of any discoverer before he attains 
 
 *Gas inspection. •{•"Killed by the Indians." 
 
2 29 
 
 the 714 page of such a close packed succession 
 of columns. 
 
 I desire earnestly to go up to Lunenburg next 
 week, for there my exemption from employ- 
 ment, that has severely occupied me nineteen 
 years and more, will be most potentially felt. 
 Nothing to do in town supposes much of every 
 day to be wasted; but in the country the same 
 phase of necessity imports that the mind is at 
 liberty to give itself up without anxiety to any 
 occurrence, Quo me cunque rapit tempestas. 
 
 Your 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 Monday, 23 Nov. '63. 
 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child y — To your letter of Saturday, 
 that came to hand this morning, quick response, 
 as it ought, shall follow. It was not a surprise 
 to me, that you would not leave New York be- 
 fore tomorrow, though the letter from England 
 last Friday received here, was directed by 
 me to 1 121 Girard Street, Phila. rather than 
 the nearer city, as it might have failed to greet 
 your eyes in any city between. 
 
 We have got on very agreeably, and Mary 
 
230 
 
 makes a first rate housekeeper, practising, like 
 a judicious apprentice, what she must so soon 
 be compelled to superintend. She desires me 
 to say, that the whole of your errands have been 
 fulfilled; and the only article of business beside 
 is, a bill brought in this morning, amount only 
 five dollars, for something, bought of somebody, 
 somewhere, but neither the place, person, or 
 material being legible, I can hardly pay the bill; 
 and you will please, on going, after you reach 
 home, to pay for the article purchased i8 Nov. 
 the day before you left home, to express your 
 father's malediction on such bad chirography. 
 
 After business, I presume, you would inquire 
 for report of amusements, and I am glad to 
 assure you that Friday and Saturday the two 
 girls enlivened me for an hour or two in the even- 
 ings, having once aid of Mr. Porter, in the last 
 our young neighbor *, student from Cambridge. 
 We have played the game of all fours with only 
 three to speculate. 
 
 I must leave a margin for one of your nieces, 
 after assuring you of the remembrance every 
 hour of 
 
 Your father 
 
 J. Savage. 
 
 * James Putnam, 
 
231 
 
 Boston, i Deck. 1863. 
 To Prof. Rogers. 
 
 Dear William, — Your very agreeable letter 
 of Saturday reached me next day, and very 
 glad was I to learn that your stay in New York 
 had been subservient to the health for which 
 you were in search, and that must enable you to 
 put cheer into the circle, to which your brother 
 will be so closely confined. Letters you got, 
 I presume, sent back from Philadelphia, especi- 
 ally one from London, though of any other my 
 memory has not preserved knowledge; but 
 here is a parcel on your study table that will 
 cost you six good hours to hurry through after 
 your return. Of them all I suppose the value 
 would not be lessened by delay for a few days, as 
 confidently I judged was the case with the U. S. 
 tax bill that must claim benefit all this month. 
 
 Coming from church over the common, Mr. 
 Ross overtook me, when I gave him your mes- 
 sage about Wm. Preston.* 
 
 On Sunday evening I called for an hour on 
 Mrs. Richards, who, tomorrow, will go down 
 to Kennebeck with her youngest brother to have 
 perhaps the latest instruction from her father. 
 
 My health had continued admirable, and all 
 
 * The Architect of the Mass. Institute of Technology. 
 
232 
 
 my acquaintance take occasion to congratulate 
 me for it. Careful enough of it I am sure Emma 
 would concede, for half the evenings and more 
 since you left us I have not stirred beyond our 
 own door, and I eat as cheerfully and sleep as 
 soundly as if she were at home. Every day I get 
 down stairs before the two younger girls, and we 
 do not wait breakfast, if they are retarded in 
 their appearance at the table 
 
 The Count and Countess Klevzkowski called 
 here this morning before my getting back from 
 half a dozen stops down town on different con- 
 cerns of business natural enough on the first day 
 of winter. Always I look out boldly, as far as 
 my purse is concerned, for the next quarter, and 
 so remain full as ever of comfort and joy as 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Boston 9 December '63. 
 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — I take this small piece of 
 paper on which to write to you this morning, 
 because I have so little to say beyond due ac- 
 knowledgment of your letter of Sunday received 
 yesterday morning. 
 
 Probably you would be as much interested in 
 
233 
 
 the story of the concomitants of our young 
 friend, Harry Higginson's wedding last Satur- 
 day as in anything that could be told. Last 
 Saturday at noon the ceremony was performed 
 in the Appleton chapel, and I did not reach the 
 edifice before the first half dozen of the inter- 
 ested had withdrawn; but I shook hands on the 
 sacred steps with the fathers of both bride and 
 groom, as also Col. Lee and one or two other 
 near friends of the parties. 
 
 You can expect no details of ceremony or 
 dress as I was so much behind time, but the 
 bride and her husband escape much overflow 
 of visitors because they are staying at Mr. 
 Lowell's (as I think) in Waltham. You are 
 old enough to know that the marriage gratula- 
 tions in our world, may be followed in few days 
 by the mourning for some one, especially if the 
 circle of acquaintance and friends be of wide 
 circumference. The very day before our young 
 friend Higginson's completion of felicity, Mrs. 
 Daniel P. Parker's daughter Emily, lately mar- 
 ried to Dr. Pickman, was numbered with the 
 dead. 
 
 I had good opportunity to write to your cousin 
 Thomas Savage, at Havana last week, and had, 
 of course, as so many months had rolled over 
 
234 
 
 us, since the interruption of correspondence by 
 the diabolical rebellion, to recur to the great 
 losses that have fallen upon both of us. If he 
 ever have another wife, she may not, I hope, be 
 Spanish, though nothing could be more improper 
 than to express to him this sentiment; and he 
 may have a degree of affection for that island, 
 as it v^as his birthplace. Let us give thanks 
 that we were born in Boston. 
 
 Your affectionate 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 
 I Temple Place, 6 Febr. 1864. 
 Dear Mr. Winthrop, — Herewith the admi- 
 rable note of our kind friend, Romilly, is 
 returned, with warm thanks for your thought- 
 fulness in sending it to me. Our attraction to 
 England is lessened by the certainty that, after 
 the doleful experience of our civil war ends, 
 we should miss the constant benignity of one of 
 the ornaments at the University of Cambridge, 
 gentis, incunabula nostrae. 
 
 Ever yours, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
235 
 Lunenburg, 19 June 1864. 
 
 To Prof. Rogers. 
 
 My dear William, — Your advice from Halifax 
 written only twenty four hours from port, out 
 of sight of land, and closed when making sig- 
 nals for the pilot, hoping to reach your stopping 
 place in 2 hours, yet out of sight of any thing but 
 fog, came to us on Wednesday. Very pleasant 
 was your account of fellow passengers, who are 
 of so great importance to one's comfort, as to 
 make a sea voyage often the most agreeable 
 time we ever pass beyond our own home. 
 
 Of course we have had joyous days at Sunny 
 hill since Miss Putnam carne to us, and told 
 of your felicitous associations in the morning. 
 Nothing of predominant interest has occurred 
 here in our little circle, which on the evening of 
 Friday 17th current was increased by coming 
 of Miss Whitwell, as on preceding Saturday it 
 had been by Mr. Porter. His affiancee rules 
 our dinner and tea table with much tact; but 
 his visits must be short. 
 
 A letter from J. S. Newbury of 5 current post- 
 marked 6, Cleveland, came up here enclosing 
 photographs you had sent for, one for you, one 
 for Henry, and asking for yours, and his. I 
 begged yours from Mary O. Gushing, and sent 
 
236 
 
 him; but may not be lucky enough to know soon 
 of private hand to carry his letter and enclosure 
 that ought not to take the fortuitous carriage of 
 mail to you. 
 
 For Emma came from A. Miller, first Lieut. 
 Vet. Res. Corps, dated at ClifFburn barracks, 
 Washington, D.C., 3 June in answer to her in- 
 quiries about the last sufferings of my son, 
 his fellow prisoner. He also mentions the 
 kindness of the ladies; but the whole en- 
 closed jive pages he sent had better be trans- 
 mitted to you, for Eliza must desire the 
 particulars as much almost as she. Mr. 
 Miller also desires picture of James and as I 
 shall not write to him, you may answer fully 
 from Europe or after return, unless Emma will 
 insist on her right and duty. Perhaps I ought 
 further to copy from his letter: "My face is 
 nearly well. I wear an artificial eye; but I in- 
 tend to have another operation performed this 
 fall, if I can get to New York." 
 
 The season promises more favorable return 
 of products of the soil than for many years. 
 Never I think was so great a show of blossoms 
 on blackberry bushes by the road side; but a 
 drouth may ruin these, as it will the grass crop on 
 our hill, if it last three days more. But the 
 
237 
 
 general deep soil of the farms in this town and 
 neighborhood will be likely to yield good re- 
 turn for the farmer's diligence. 
 
 Our neighbor Riley's son got home last week 
 in fine spirits from his service in the war, and 
 would enlist again, but that his mother had so 
 watchfully tended him in his prostrate state of 
 fever with ague, that he must hearken to her 
 opposition. 
 
 20 June. 
 
 You would gain from the newspapers later 
 intelligence than could be sent from here in the 
 seclusion of the country; but the gazettes in 
 our Daily Advertiser of this morning with re- 
 ports official to Sunday morning, (yesterday after 
 sunrise,) are wholly satisfactory to me. My 
 patience is exceeded by nothing but my con- 
 fidence in result. So charging you to have no 
 apprehension of evil omens, with kindest re- 
 gards to your brother, his precious wife, and the 
 plaything, I am yours and Emma's as ever 
 
 James Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg, 2 July, 1864. 
 My dear Child, — I read last week a book, 
 brought out by the times, entitled "The Potomac 
 
238 
 
 and the Rapidan." It was the work of the 
 Chaplain of the 2nd Massachusetts Regiment, 
 Rev. Alonzo H. Quint. From the bloody day 
 of Antietam, when he told of the fall of Lieut. 
 Col. Dwight, he goes back to relate the murder- 
 ous service of 9 Aug. at Cedar Mountain, and 
 combines the gaps in the line of "such men as 
 Abbott, Cary, Goodwin, Williams, Perkins, 
 Dwight — dead." Then returning to his date 
 of writing, he enlarges: "And now we are sad 
 at the loss of another. Major Savage, who died 
 in Virginia of wounds received at Cedar Moun- 
 tain: an honorable, brave soldier, refined, 
 gentle, warm hearted, and one of the purest 
 minded men I ever knew; an only son, whose 
 parents may God bless. Nobody knew James 
 Savage but to respect and love him." We ought 
 not to desire more from the Chaplain of his 
 regiment, whose book is a happy medley of 
 scrupulous facts and most intense sensibility. 
 The author's strong right heartedness neutralizes 
 his Calvinism, and he resolutely asserts the 
 religious emotions of many a one whose dog- 
 matic phraseology he might esteem very de- 
 ficient in precision. 
 
 For the most favorable promise of early June 
 in the dominion of vegetation, an extraordinary 
 
239 
 
 drought has supervened, as the doctors say. 
 Yesterday I went to Boston, and got back with- 
 out suffocation. Hay is short. 
 
 Week before last your Aunt Savage went to 
 Portland, and suffered in the three days heat 
 24-26 of the month, of which the highest range 
 here, our postmaster told me was 103 of Faren- 
 heit. In our entry it stood at 86. 
 
 Our neighbor, Mrs. Lee, sister of my dear 
 friend Buckminster, died, as you may have 
 anticipated, not many days after you left Boston. 
 Yet it seemed sudden. 
 
 At Boston I saw the Putnams, the younger 
 lady having returned from fortnight's visit in the 
 country. I dined there, had not time to do 
 every thing, forgot more than one, but on my 
 walk from Temple Place to take the cars for 
 Leominster, called three minutes at George S. 
 Hillard's. 
 
 3 July. 
 
 Every day since you left us I have enjoyed 
 high health. Miss Whitwell came to visit us 
 before Miss Putnam went away; and before 
 Miss Whitwell left us. Miss Dixwell, now with 
 us, came to keep us in animation. Fanny drove 
 her over, with our new Fitchburg horse, to take 
 up Mr. Porter and myself at Leominster; and 
 
240 
 
 coming from there on Friday afternoon, we had 
 the pleasure of seeing my admirable friend, good 
 old Mr. Treasurer Wilder in the road, and had 
 ten minutes chat. 
 
 Here is large accumulation of pamphlets and 
 letters from divers persons for William, but 
 not one of sufficient interest to bear to be for- 
 warded. 
 
 4 July. 
 
 No thunder of artillery is heard on our re- 
 tired hill this morning to acknowledge the In- 
 dependence of our country, which today must 
 be celebrated with almost as great anxiety as 
 exultation. A day of uncertainty it must seem 
 to many; and since the first outburst of the 
 diabolical war, as I have never for a moment 
 felt any doubt of its result, none ought to be 
 tolerated now. But I am of sanguine, and 
 sanguinary, complexion of mind, perhaps too 
 much accustomed to have every thing turn out 
 as foreseen. Well! on this day the stars and 
 stripes are waving on a high staff at Sunny Hill, 
 and, and how near Richmond I am not prepared 
 to express. Let me hope it can be over Peters- 
 burg as the last resting place before the cocka- 
 trice's den. But the complication of politics 
 at Washington seem portentous of evil, and what 
 
241 
 
 means the retirement of our Secretary of the 
 Treasury ? it is capable of no good augury. 
 That Bill for two hundred and twenty five £ I 
 sent William week before last was bought for 
 twenty one hundred and eighty dollars, the next 
 day would have been twenty two hundred and 
 thirty dolls, or more, and last week on Friday 
 might not have been procured for twenty seven 
 hundred. 
 
 At the Post Office this morning your letter 
 from England — that is sweet Ireland, of the date 
 of the second Saturday after leaving Boston 
 reached Lunenburg. Your passage was good 
 enough, and as to the seasickness, it ought not 
 to have been less. For William the comfort of 
 daily meals was much more to be anxious about 
 than for your abundant health before embarca- 
 tion. 
 
 Our excellent old friend, President Quincy 
 died last Friday, when I was in town, but it was 
 not known to me till read in this morning's paper. 
 You may, I think, assure every body you see 
 on the Continent, that of our existing inter- 
 necine war, there can be but one end, and that 
 the people of France, Austria, Spain, or who- 
 ever else wishes to show tenderness to exiles 
 from us, may prepare for extensive calls on their 
 
242 
 
 benevolence, until the refugees gain courage 
 enough to feel that they might be perfectly safe 
 from any evil but contempt. I doubt, if two 
 score in the five hundred thousand will be hon- 
 ored with adequate punishment. 
 
 Yours 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg, 9 July 1864. 
 My dear Child, — Yesterday brought me the 
 letter of 24 ult. from Glasgow, precisely on 
 fourteenth day from date, as on the same mail 
 steamer came the details of the destruction of 
 the plundering Alabama, that we had brief 
 report of two days before. Very agreeable is 
 every word of your despatches, particularly 
 about that dear daughter of Eliza's, whom to 
 dandle would draw me across the Atlantic, if 
 you were here to regulate the household. But 
 how could I be away from this place a single 
 week, much more for five months ? It seems 
 indispensable to have the current of the day 
 constantly under supervision; yet Eliza was 
 shocked, that you did not carry me with you. 
 What would Sunny Hill have been the middle 
 of October next .? How should preparation in 
 
243 
 
 Boston for the ensuing season have been ade- 
 quate ? Explain this matter to her full satis- 
 faction. 
 
 Quite a long visit the chief physician of Fitch- 
 burg, Boutelle, gave me the day before yester- 
 day, having been called to our village by some 
 body not by us known. Happily our town has 
 not a single practitioner of the healing art, at 
 present, for the young one of last year, when the 
 oU one died, took himself elsewhere for richer 
 pasture; and the place is too dry in soil for any 
 prevalence of disease. Too dry, we fear, is it 
 for the kindly fruits of the season. Strawberry 
 vines are exhausted and our green peas parched 
 in their pods. Indian corn may defy, perhaps, 
 the failure of moisture; but potatoes, so much 
 more valuable product, may be mealy, indeed, 
 but not generous in size. The little Naiads 
 mourn their famished urns. 
 
 I rejoice to say, that we have gained a great 
 refreshment from a little rain, and so the dust 
 that nearly stifled us yesterday going to and 
 returning from the church at Leominster is 
 laid for six and thirty hours at least. 
 Yours 
 
 James Savage. 
 
244 
 
 Lunenburg, 31 July 1864. 
 My dear fFilliam, — Your letter of 15 came 
 three days ago, so we feel that you are not so 
 far from us, as you might be in some uncivilized 
 portion of our own country. 
 
 Our Eliz. S. Gushing went last Thursday, or 
 the day before, to visit at Worcester that nice 
 girl, Miss Lincoln, granddaughter of my old 
 friend Governor L. with whom I was coadjutor 
 when Emma was a very small child at school. 
 
 You ought not to feel any distrust as to the 
 final result of our accursed war, however justi- 
 fiable anxiety must continue. Almost any civil 
 war would, in the nature of the case, be of in- 
 definite duration, as its usual close is in entire 
 subjugation; but, in this convulsion of our side 
 of the Atlantic, analogy from our father land 
 can hardly be illustrative. Since it began with- 
 out reason, it may possibly be finished without 
 reason; but I can hardly allow myself to fear, 
 that the terms of peace will contain chiefly new 
 pabulum for restoration of war. As to any 
 favor of slavery for a period of a year to a day, 
 it is almost as likely that the duration of peace 
 should be limited to nine years or nine months 
 or even nine hours. It seems to me, that the 
 
245 
 
 intrigues of such piddling politicians as talk of a 
 renewal of amity between North and South solely 
 on return to the Constitution, as it was, are well 
 enough countervailed by the straightforward 
 common sense of our Yankees. It was anciently 
 a maxim of Castilian pride, that a short war was 
 not consistent with Spanish honor; and surely 
 any civil war, especially over a territory of four 
 million square miles, may hardly be expected to 
 finish itself in four years. We must have the 
 concomitant evils with the benefits of such 
 horrid unbounded empire as heaven has in- 
 flicted on us. 
 
 I August. 
 We have had this morning quite a change in 
 our circle. The two Putnam boys, students at 
 our college in the senior and junior classes, re- 
 spectively, who have passed eleven or twelve days 
 here, and Miss Morse, who came to us with 
 some of the Putnam tribe, have all gone, the 
 boys on foot, since our early breakfast. The 
 pedestrianians go almost due North to enjoy 
 Monadnock and every other elevation on the 
 west of the Merrimac; but we have the promise 
 from their younger sister of coming this week to 
 fmish her visit so delightfully begun week be- 
 fore last. Never w^as brighter morning for 
 
246 
 
 beginning a journey, and I fear it may continue 
 so bright as to deny moisture for our vegetation 
 and even drink for the cattle. However the 
 immediate vicinity of the ocean is refreshed v^ith 
 Easterly breezes, and they have been felt even 
 as far as this, but lasting only two or three hours, 
 and not strong enough to bear us a burden of 
 clouds. 
 
 I feel great interest in the political state of 
 Europe, as it may materially affect our country. 
 If that great gambler at Paris be not engaged 
 in embroiling the Eastern he must seek room to 
 let off his pestilence upon our side of the wide 
 waters. That uneasy throne in Mexico may 
 be made more quiet by convulsions to be patron- 
 ized in Texas, and many thousand soldiers of 
 fortune can be got from the defeat of our re- 
 bellion to keep up the hope of havoc. If not 
 wanted for subjection of the independent on the 
 continent, they make fine buccaneers, and may 
 be engaged to conquer the island of Cuba, 
 turning their arms against the very power in 
 whose cause nominally the third Napoleon en- 
 listed them. 
 
 2 August. 
 
 The news that came yesterday from the Vir- 
 ginia seat of war so closely approaching to 
 
247 
 
 a matter of high interest, that I shall not seal up 
 this little scrawl without finding what this 
 morning's mail can bring. Possibly it may 
 enable me to add nothing but my signature, 
 with tenderest regard to wife and Eliza from 
 their father 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg, 23 July 1864. 
 
 My dear Child, — The steamer of 20th might 
 have carried from Boston the letter of Mrs. 
 Cabot, herewith forwarded, had she been 
 scrupulously careful to send it to George S. 
 Hillard the day she wrote it, instead of putting 
 it under cover of 2ist to me up here in the 
 region of hills, where it was received about the 
 same hour that it would have left Halifax. 
 However it is safety, not promptitude, that a 
 lady most thinks of, and the news she sends is 
 often anticipated by the regular mails. 
 
 Yesterday brought your welcome and copious 
 letter of 8th from Edinburg with postscript of 
 9th from William. But how failed my despatch 
 of 20th June to reach you safely.? It was prob- 
 ably addressed to care of Baring Bros. & Co. 
 Since that, may be, a different address may have 
 
248 
 
 been used, one (I know) was to care of H. D. 
 Rogers, Professor at Glasgow. 
 
 Advice to William. Do not fail to inform 
 me what and when items of income will be 
 likely to accrue to you, as the sum may be used 
 for remittance or expense here. I mean since 
 the Nashua which gave you the latter part of 
 June ^1050. I dare not think of giving you an- 
 other remittance while the rate of exchange is so 
 enormously inflated, so you may be sure, the 
 first minute of getting advice of more funds for 
 your comfort, that the good cause has prospered. 
 
 Aunt Hillard has improved not a little in her 
 week's trial of the air at Sunny Hill. If only dry- 
 ness were needed, there was never more. Every 
 thing is parched up, even the brook, called for 
 poor Smailes, has not a drop of water running, 
 and that I never remember to have occurred 
 before. There has been not five hours rain in 
 seven weeks, and much of our fruit, apples and 
 peaches, drops stunted from the trees. We 
 shall have rain to restore the fall feed, or au- 
 tumnal grass, no doubt, and all the New Eng- 
 land fields shall be green before your return. 
 Ah! that return I long for, being well tired of 
 subjection to three grandchildren. 
 
249 
 
 I am charmed with your Leven, Loch 
 Lomond, Callender, Sterling, to Edinburg, being 
 the reverse of my course. But I saw more going 
 by Perth, on the chief river of Britain. 
 
 Your affectionate father, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg, 8 August '64. 
 
 My dear Child, — It seems an age since we 
 heard from you, because our steamer, that shall 
 have brought letters from you, was belated in 
 reaching Boston via New York. By the coach 
 at half past ten A. M. it will be looked for, and 
 meantime I may proceed to tell you what has 
 interested us since my last advices to your side, 
 under date of 2d Inst, or current perhaps more 
 exact. 
 
 On last writing to William there was little 
 hope expressed as to relief from the tormenting 
 drought, though the promise came just before 
 sunset that very day. Wednesday before day- 
 light the heavenly benignity began, and with 
 most exactly calculated rate of descent followed 
 the rain that penetrated the earth almost as 
 far as human avidity could wish. Our lawn 
 is restored almost to the first week of June*s 
 
250 
 
 verdure, and even the brooks have renewed their 
 vivacity in some sHght degree, and cattle may 
 quench their thirst without traveUing to the 
 shore of Onkechawalom. We had quite an 
 old fashioned leak over the front door and on 
 the east side of my library, six tubs of size 
 greater or smaller were in use in the front entry 
 and some preparation in my room. Luckily 
 our visitors had got away two days before, and 
 no inconvenience was thought of. 
 
 That army, of which you in a distant country 
 receive news from with great anxiety, no doubt, 
 and greater vexation w^ith each latest report, 
 because the disclosure is not of any precise ap- 
 proach to a close of this devastating civil war. 
 But you must learn, and more than that you 
 must teach our friends, that the termination is 
 not so near, to human appearance, as it seemed 
 two months since. The condition of civil war 
 is, of necessity, one that admits no end, we might 
 almost say, for short of extirpation how can it 
 come .? Death or voluntary exile of its chiefs 
 is the sole end that the losing side must meet, 
 at least in its principal projectors; and the 
 sober people of England ought to reperuse the 
 annals of their state from 1642 to 1648. Next 
 they ought to measure the square miles of their 
 
251 
 
 own blessed island, less than seventy thousand, 
 and the survey of our dominion, / fear, could 
 not be so little as four millions. The v^rath of 
 heaven, for that wricked war upon Mexico, 
 inflicted upon us the addition of half a million 
 or more; and strike some average between the 
 two surfaces, with what arithmetical skill you 
 may, the diabolical contention may well be 
 terminated between two, and five and twenty 
 times two years. Yet the wrath of man shall 
 praise him, and the greatness of the change in 
 four millions of men, women and children may 
 compensate the cost of blood and treasure in 
 two hundred or twenty hundred weeks. I shall 
 not live to see the total recovery of peace, but 
 I feel confident that the world will rejoice in 
 its return not doubt and groan for its insecur- 
 ity. 
 
 Afternoon. 
 Your husband's letter of 22 ult. came this 
 morning, and is very encouraging in all but the 
 sad annunciation of 22 Oct. as your day for 
 leaving England to come home. I shall hardly 
 be able to keep up my spirits, for they grow 
 languid now, when it is only two months today 
 since you left us. Probably your letter to Lizzie 
 was as much valued by her as William's by me 
 
252 
 
 for variety is so agreeable coming at the same 
 moment over the same ocean. 
 
 Much do I rejoice at what you tell of Lady 
 Lyell, whom I very kindly remember in Boston. 
 Since 2d June I have neither seen nor heard of 
 anybody in that blessed town, except those who 
 have come here, but hope to add Susan Hillard 
 in few days, and living in hope, am 
 Your affectionate father, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg, 15 August '64. 
 Dear PFilliam, — Your latest report of 29 
 ult. came to us on Friday last, the fourteenth 
 day from its date, and was very gladly examined. 
 We want more exact statements of your health, 
 because you are likely to be later in reaching 
 home than was our calculation, and the differ- 
 ence of a fortnight or three weeks may be found 
 to give a bad passage instead of a good one. 
 A very few hours of malignant tempest in No- 
 vember may cause us on shore as great anxiety 
 as to you on board ship. Our seasons vary, 
 I know, not a little between one year and an- 
 other; but October is late enough, generally 
 speaking, to cross the Atlantic, yet much de- 
 
253 
 
 pends on the moon, for the long nights are 
 materially shorter for her assistance. 
 
 I might make remittance for your benefit of 
 three hundred pounds, but the lapse of time 
 may be more beneficial in reduction of rate of 
 exchange than the interest lost; and probably 
 Baring and Bros, would meet your drafts as 
 readily without as with funds in hand. Mean- 
 while the general prosperity of all interests in 
 New England continues, except that of the ship- 
 ping. A scoundrel privateer may burn in a day 
 what a month can hardly repair. 
 
 We have wonderfully been revivified by gentle 
 rain again, and all our fields are green as in 
 early May. The heat was, however so long 
 continued without moisture as to lessen the 
 growth of fruit upon trees. Our apples and 
 peaches must be small, if they be sweet enough 
 to compensate. 
 
 1 6 Aug. 
 
 To-day the younger Miss Putnam leaves us 
 and will make a great deficiency in our family 
 circle. We ought not so much to lament this 
 as to be grateful for the exhilaration that all 
 the four have afforded. Yet what uncommon 
 diversity between each of the boys and each of 
 the girls. 
 
254 
 
 We have nothing of striking importance by 
 mail reports. The world is made chiefly of small 
 men, and small things suit them. Our Lizzie 
 is going tomorrow to Charleston in N. H. to visit 
 her cousins. 
 
 No doubt the inclosed will be agreeable to 
 Emma, and so I end with assurance as ever 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg, 21 Aug. 1864. 
 My dear Daughter, — In the letter of William 
 received yesterday, the hopes of your return 
 before November are scattered; and so you 
 must expect tedious long nights on board ship, 
 unless indeed the relief of moonlight in pleasant 
 weather shorten the darkness. Well, it is 
 sometimes as genial in November first ten or 
 twelve days as in the month preceding, and 
 almost never does a bitterly perilous storm 
 come on before the passing of full moon. Be- 
 sides my hope is of your making one voyage 
 from Liverpool to New York, instead of two 
 from L. to Halifax, thence to Boston, as I tried 
 this track. 
 
 The destruction of Temple Place will be con- 
 
255 
 
 summated, I suppose, before you get home. 
 What compensation may be had by those 
 earhest occupants who built the best houses 
 in the Court, is to be known only when the 
 sufferers are called on to pay their proportion 
 of the expense of the abominable improvement. 
 It may be. that the money value of the houses 
 will be enhanced, but I had rather have given 
 fifteen hundred dolls, to prevent the cutting 
 down and cutting up than gain twice that sum 
 in sale of my estate. Mr. Lee and myself were 
 the earliest to build on the old Washington 
 Garden, and my hope was to be permitted to 
 die in the house erected by me thirty two years 
 ago. Still I may have that satisfaction, but all 
 manner of carts and trucks will pass the same 
 hour of my funeral through the vulgar high- 
 way before my door. Such, probably, are 
 common evils in all improvements of cities; 
 but here there is no pretense of accommodation 
 by making a street between Winter and West 
 street, unless one, tw^o or three may call it public 
 accommodation, that their estates, respectively, 
 should be sold at a hundred per cent, advance 
 on cost, and mine that I don't want to sell for 
 any price, would not bring twenty per ct. above. 
 I presume the Alderman that was, our neighbor 
 
256 
 
 down the court, is the chief manager of the 
 concern. 
 
 Yours 
 
 James Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg, 18 July, 1864. 
 To HIS Stepdaughter, Mrs. Henry Darwin 
 Rogers. 
 
 My dear Elizay — In your very agreeable 
 letter of 11 of last month, the beginning de- 
 mands serious reply. That you would have 
 been very much pleased with my accompanying 
 William and Emma, is easily believed by me, 
 and that you were disappointed at my failure 
 was matter of course; but you must consider 
 how great was the propriety, almost necessity, 
 of my continuing on this side of the water. 
 Our household at Sunny Hill could not be left 
 to itself, for the grounds require supervision, 
 and the culture requires an encouragement from 
 the owner. Besides, what should not be done 
 for the comfort and gratification of your Aunt 
 Hillard ? And I require aid to sustain life, 
 though my health was never better. Pray 
 make allowance for my entering last Wednes- 
 day on my eighty first year. 
 
257 
 
 Much am I charmed with what you tell me 
 of your Mary, who in her opening faculties is 
 destined soon to fill the place of her who is 
 gone to the better world, at least to be so far 
 her successor as to bring back the dear remem- 
 brance with fresher exactness of lineaments of 
 mind, if not of person. You know what reason 
 binds me to recall frequently the blandishments 
 of her, who planted in the last summer of her 
 life that little elm shoot not a foot high on one 
 side of the drive near the gate, now promising 
 to be one of the finest trees in this town of 
 beautiful trees. More than a hundred oaks 
 and chestnuts are mementos of the spirit and 
 love of beauty that always characterized our 
 dear James; and this side of the North wall 
 their attraction is far stronger than all the peach 
 trees beyond them. How could I, dear Eliza, 
 fail to pass my summer at Lunenburg ? What 
 association with the delights your mother ex- 
 pressed in visiting and watering her flower beds 
 ought not to spring fresh to mind, especially 
 as arises naturally the thought, this may be 
 the last season for partaking such delights. 
 
 On Saturday your Aunt Hillard and cousin 
 George came to us, after twice failing to be able 
 to keep her resolution from feeble health. She 
 
258 
 
 was not able to go at all to James's. She in- 
 forms me, that James's eldest boy has enlisted 
 for the special service of a hundred days^ prob- 
 ably to do garrison duty at Washington, as 
 some thousands are just now engaged, I sup- 
 pose, to allow elder soldiers to be employed in 
 severer or more engaging occupation. 
 
 Yours 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg, 29 Aug. 1864. 
 
 Dear William, — Your note, accompanying 
 the overflowing despatch of 12th current from 
 Emma, coming through New York, was re- 
 ceived here, in twelve days, last Wednesday, and 
 taken from our Post Office as I was on my ride 
 to pass the day at Lancaster with noble Mr. 
 Thayer. Perhaps we ought not to desire, 
 certainly not to expect, more rapid communica- 
 tion between the two sides of the ocean. 
 
 What you write of the visit to Windsor castle 
 and to Eton was peculiarly interesting, as neither 
 of those objects of reverence were included in 
 my English perambulations, and only seen in 
 the rapid railroad transit. Had I the reasonable 
 hope of seeing once more the blessed land of 
 
259 
 
 my fathers' sepulchres, I should take in with 
 those spots of delight the dearer associations of 
 Stratford on Avon; inasmuch as language will 
 outlive all combinations of stone or brick with 
 the mortar of frailty. But, one opportunity was 
 not improved, and time offers no fresh occasion. 
 
 You must not indulge in anxious moments 
 about any report of great or petty disaster to 
 our holy cause. Delay is not defeat, and the 
 wily campaign of Grant shall be remembered this 
 year as that was of last year. The Georgia field is 
 almost as ripe for the harvest as that of Virginia; 
 but what a harvest can either yield ? As to 
 the degree of destruction which the rebels have 
 brought upon their native states, in opposition 
 to their true interest of one state, it is likely to 
 be remembered a term equal to two human 
 generations, if not more. 
 
 The lady, at our last Wednesday's dinner, in- 
 quired after your health and Emma, and prom- 
 ises to drive over with her husband to Sunny 
 Hill to repay our visit. What an event is the 
 coming of a stranger to our house! Mr. Clapp 
 bounced in on us last Saturday forenoon from 
 Fitchburg, to which some business matter had 
 brought him the day before from Boston, and 
 so gladly we detained him till this morning. I 
 
26o 
 
 have invited Dr. Gannett to give us a sight of his 
 reverend face, but his would only be a flying call. 
 
 This week Thayer is directed by me to forward 
 to Barings for you three hundred pounds, and 
 probably I may not be able to send another 
 dollar before your return. The rate of remit- 
 tance may be more easy, we hope, than hereto- 
 fore for several months, at least it was so last 
 week. For your return, do not fail to consider 
 whereabouts the moon must be in twelve or four- 
 teen days after that of your embarcation. 
 Grievous as it would be, to have you detained 
 in England until 15 Nov. it seems to me less 
 grievous to live without you until the first of 
 April. If you make your reckoning to reach 
 New York by the first five days of Nov. it will 
 content me; but later than that by five days 
 may undo all the good of five months. I know 
 by experience the dolefulness of approach to 
 New York from the ocean after middle of Deer. 
 
 Perhaps you may obtain, by the steamer that 
 shall take this, advice of the doings of the great 
 caucus to nominate a candidate for President 
 on the part of the opposition, including all the 
 traitors from every part of the United States, ex- 
 cept those in open rebellion. No curiosity is 
 felt about the actual names; but very much to 
 
26 I 
 
 know, how the grumbletonians will coagulate; 
 and what state, or states, above all, the com- 
 bined force can command. Discord may be 
 prevented by policy in the nomination, but the 
 November election may be a great disappoint- 
 ment to the rowdies. What sort of moral 
 force can be wielded by the several clans that 
 make Amos Kendall, the old huckster of politics 
 fifty years ago, their leader ? My opinion may 
 be good for little; but whoever is set up will be 
 knocked down, unless I read signs wholly 
 wrong. You must, I fear, lose your vote for 
 President, as the election for Electors is on an 
 early day of Nov. but no matter, Mass. will give 
 five and twenty thousand majority, perhaps 
 more. 
 
 30 Aug. 
 M. O. Gushing drove over to Fitchburg with 
 Mr. Porter and Mr. Clapp, and brought back 
 Mrs. Frank Hillard and her two children who 
 had came down from Charlestown, N. H. last 
 evening. So that I may keep alive until your 
 return puts an end to all apprehension of com- 
 ing to my death by inanition. 
 
 With truest affection 
 
 Yours 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
262 
 
 Lunenburg, 3 Septr., 1864. 
 My dear Child, — Of the highest interest must 
 be the operations of the hostile armies in the 
 two fields, Virginia and Georgia, but as yet 
 Httle more than sameness, however bloody the 
 frequent details, is daily told. The earth will 
 continue to revolve without change of a minute 
 this year from her service of last year, and the 
 ultimate result of our war must be equally fore- 
 shown to the observant eye, though between 
 one week and another very slight change be 
 seen. Political small movements are of some 
 importance to some people of very small dignity 
 at present, who hope that little more than two 
 months shall be spent in ripening their expecta- 
 tions of greatness. Yet the sober voice of the 
 people can hardly be over-powered by the 
 traitorous clamours for submission by the na- 
 tional government to the claims of the South 
 in their present humilition. What shall be 
 the result of the ensuing election of President 
 may in no slight degree be influenced by the 
 phases of military success. The capture of 
 Richmond infallibly would over-throw all chance 
 for success of that general who when in com- 
 mand of all our forces got near enough to 
 that rebel metropolis to hear the clock strike, 
 
263 
 
 more than one year ago; and even the success 
 of our troops in Georgia may so darken his 
 prospects, as to justify your confident vatici- 
 nation in Europe. However there v^ill be, I 
 presume, sufficient corruption or wrong-headed- 
 ness in two or three of our twenty seven loyal 
 states to make a show of opposition to Lincoln; 
 and if New York be one of the two or three, let 
 the skill of Governor Seymour have credit for 
 
 the disaster. 
 
 5 Sept. 
 
 But the steamer did happily bring your letter 
 of 19 with William's 20 ulto. and very glad was 
 I to learn that you were to go next day to Paris. 
 That centre of fashion too often is the centre of 
 mischief; but the mischief can hardly affect you 
 except indirectly, so I will not indulge any ap- 
 prehensions for the few weeks of your sojourn 
 there. Though neither William nor you have 
 the facility of speaking French or German, I 
 doubt not the blessed native tongue will carry 
 you comfortably to any civilized place, through 
 it, and back again. 
 
 I enjoy already wearing that pair of socks 
 you have knit for me, as they must be of wool, 
 coarser or finer, which seems very appropriate 
 to our cold Northeast rain. It has come after 
 
264 
 
 long delay to restore the wealth of the springs. 
 This is the first day, since coming up here on 
 2 June, when the weather could keep me from 
 going down town, especially the Post Office; 
 but now this must be despatched before gain- 
 ing the important news of the last two days, of 
 which however the result is not doubtful to 
 me. 
 
 Our country occupations, as usual, are monot- 
 onous, but the fine weather has permitted free 
 motion out and home almost every day. Plenty 
 of inmates we have\\2.A to make the hours move 
 swift; and even in this imprisoning rain Mrs. 
 Josephine Hillard and her girl and boy will pre- 
 vent ennui. Miss Forbes * left us last Satur- 
 day after a fortnight's visit, a very nice, quiet, 
 young lady. 
 
 As I enclose letter from Molly, it can hardly 
 be necessary for me to prolong my scrawl by 
 any news of the vicinity, so here closes the gabble 
 of 
 
 Your aflFectionate father 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 * Daughter of Franklin Forbes of Clinton, Mass. 
 
265 
 
 Lunenburg, 12 Sept., 1864. 
 
 To Mrs. H. D. Rogers. 
 
 My dear Eliza, — Your crowded letter of 
 2 Aug. detained until 5th coming by the Liver- 
 pool steamer of 6th was, by carelessness in the 
 post office into which it first passed, missent, 
 and so was not received until two days later 
 than Emma and William's advice of 12th of 
 same. My hours are indeed less animated 
 here in the country than if your sister and her 
 husband were present to encourage my heart 
 and strengthen my hands; but we have some 
 variety in company and occupation with scenery 
 and objects quite diverse from what Boston 
 would afford, so that time does not hang 
 heavily on my steps, and sleep is as sound as in 
 any other part of the world. 
 
 Your Aunt Hillard is pretty regular in im- 
 provement of health, yet in some degree de- 
 pendent on the atmosphere. Her son Frank's 
 wife and children keep the house alive; and 
 beside the benefit flowing from the four Put- 
 nam neighbors, of which three at a time blessed 
 us, the two college boys and alternately the 
 sisters. 
 
266 
 
 With what you bring up to memory of your 
 brother James the reflections of my soul are not 
 altogether sad. Nearest to my door looking 
 East are three maple trees, 20 feet, 22 feet, and 
 24 feet in height, and on the North, not four 
 yards from the breakfast room window, is a 
 most thriving English elm, all planted, that is 
 transplanted, the year before this Catilinarian 
 war. How then must I exult in having him 
 always before me ? and when I am gone so that 
 the place that now knows me shall know me no 
 more, nor any of my name be evermore heard of, 
 the advancing years will witness the advance 
 towards perfection of the work of his hands. 
 
 Your Mary is an example of the justice of 
 conclusions by unsophisticated judgment, not 
 wire drawn dogmas in theology. Blessed are 
 the innocent in framing the whole scheme of 
 God's government, and so may safely be con- 
 strued that saying: "the wayfaring man shall 
 not err therein." You may well feel confidence 
 in meeting your Aunt Hillard in a better world, 
 possibly once more in this. If the war comes to 
 its just end before next June, why should not 
 your husband bring you and little Mary to en- 
 joy some weeks at Sunny Hill, for you can cross 
 
26/ 
 
 the ocean and back again in half the time that 
 William and Emma require for their purpose. 
 Look at their indispensable engagements to 
 themselves, London and all its improvements 
 for comfort and instruction of the human animal, 
 Paris for its innumerable appliances not less 
 in petty art than in science. You must show 
 your affection to native land by revisiting it, 
 and refreshing your earlier associations with 
 its people. 
 
 Your affectionate father 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg, 13 Sept. 1864. 
 Dear William, — Since you required some 
 proof of the predominance of lawful govern- 
 ment on this side of the ocean, to be shown by 
 the reduction of Richmond, or Atlanta, or 
 Mobile, we got the very day I was reading the 
 letter, the important post of Atlanta, which 
 goes towards control of Georgia, and though 
 Richmond may not yield before December, 
 it seems probable that Mobile will not so long 
 hold out. The intrigues that are at play upon 
 the matter of the election of President in Nov. 
 must be in no slight degree influenced by the 
 
268 
 
 military operations from day to day. Little 
 respect is shown for the intelligence of our voters, 
 when Vallandigham is allowed to take upon 
 himself the management of machinery so justly 
 esteemed worthy of the most pure hands and 
 undisputed skill. What a conclusion to be 
 drawn on the worth of a country that by its 
 popular vote should sink down so low as to re- 
 ceive his dictation ! Will one of the electoral col- 
 leges be so degraded .? We shall see in eight weeks . 
 
 We have had one day only wherein fire was 
 not desirable for the last fortnight, and that 
 was slightly changeable. 
 
 Molly O. Gushing made a run for thirty six 
 hours to town, and reports that the work at our 
 Temple Place house is done, and the paint may 
 be dry next week. The work of opening the 
 Place to become a thoroughfare to make profit 
 for the two or three lower dwelling houses on 
 each side by arranging as warehouses will not 
 probably begin before you get home. I will 
 not abandon the residence, while three houses 
 on the North side, and four beside mine on the 
 South are not turned into Mammon shops. 
 Only two or three of the twenty residences are 
 tenanted by people who own them and join in 
 the plan of letting in the Goths. Owners who 
 
269 
 
 get income by renting their tenements may be 
 excused for aiming at larger income; and it is 
 not unnatural that one or another may think 
 it no bad thing to sell for double what their 
 respective dwellings cost, however difficult it 
 must be to find such desirable homes. Perhaps 
 my affection is a little influenced by having my- 
 self built the house to please my wife; and so 
 I feel too old to move. But my spite against 
 those who resolve to sell extends not very far. 
 It may be that not more than one or two would 
 sell wife or child at ever so exorbitant price, and 
 so my putting the parallel article of merchand- 
 ize looks not like contempt of the majority of 
 the same race and education as 
 
 Yours 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg, 19 Sept. 1864. 
 Dear William, — Your crowded letter of 2d 
 came to us here on Saturday morning 17th and 
 very agreeable was the proof it afforded of your 
 continuing improvement in health, and con- 
 fidence in the triumph of our country. Exactly 
 in proportion to the labor and anxiety with 
 which the common goods of life are gained may 
 
2/0 
 
 well be the degree of enjoyment; and so far the 
 infinitely higher blessings, pertaining to a nation 
 shall the next age exalt in the sufferings that 
 purchased them. If the treasonable designs 
 of the projectors of our accursed rebellion had 
 been nipped in the bud, and nobody punished 
 for the incomplete perfidy, the great mass of our 
 community would have never been instructed 
 in the designs of the trusted members of Con- 
 gress, and the explosion of the volcano would 
 have been postponed for a better opportunity, 
 which might have been many months in coming 
 up. Probably the devastation of some other 
 parts beside Virginia must be sufficient to 
 fasten in the memories of all over seven years old 
 the advantages of the Union not to be thrown 
 aw^ay in a moment of passion at the loss of an 
 election, artificially caused by the few skilful 
 concocters of the hell broth. Experience can 
 intrust all but fools; and the millions will not 
 for half a century be misguided by a few knaves 
 to such a precipice as two fifths of our people 
 have jumped. 
 
 The election of President may not show 
 exactly the confirmation of my augury, because 
 a few votes can perhaps be gathered for the 
 opposition; but nothing like one quarter will be 
 
271 
 
 thrown against Lincoln; and it would not so 
 much surprise as delight me, if not a single 
 elector for McClellan, or other candidate to be 
 drummed up, could be chosen. 
 
 We have here a pleasant season to be spoken of 
 as an aggregate, very short duration of any foul 
 weather, though some three or four days in suc- 
 cession of ungenial sky occur. Some prod- 
 ucts are abundant beyond common results of 
 culture, and peaches seem to be as abundant on 
 a few score of trees as apples from the thousands. 
 
 Our house is pretty liberally furnished with 
 guests. Dr. Gannett came to us on Thursday 
 evening last, from Boston, and Eliz. from up 
 country brought her cousin Rebecca; Susan Hil- 
 lard and her niece. Miss Howe, came on Fri- 
 day, so we have five Hillards at table, and four 
 Cushings. Dr. G. returned to Boston on Satur- 
 day, and of course that afternoon Mr. Porter 
 came from Boston. 
 
 You need not fear the inconvenience of having 
 too much money in your bankers' hands, and I 
 presume no shower of gold would delay your 
 return home. Our house, I hear, is thoroughly 
 in trim, and the new paint is admirable. The 
 abomination of turning our Court into a street 
 may not be so cruel as it is contemptible; 
 
2/2 
 
 though vexatious enough will it be to pay a 
 high tax for my house in consequence of the 
 improvement I so strenuously oppose. Vain 
 is the opposition to a personal interest in one or 
 more representatives of the popular wisdom in 
 municipal affairs. 
 
 In my vaticination nothing but disaster to 
 our armies can prevent re-election of President 
 Lincoln, and those who therefor wish such dis- 
 aster are not very numerous by the reckoning 
 of others beside 
 
 Yours 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg, 26 Sept., 1864. 
 My dear Child, — You see regularly the reports 
 of the various indications of the great civil war; 
 but the people here better understand the prob- 
 abilities of result than any European can. He 
 may, to be sure, judge by the daily fluctuations 
 of the money market, and, in the last week, 
 that has supplied a solid basis for anticipating 
 the history of the next two or three months. 
 But we have, you know, the quadrennial elec- 
 tion to agitate the waters that otherwise would 
 be moved only (by) breezes from the fields of 
 
2/3 
 
 battle. How should you wish the choice of 
 President, six weeks hence, to terminate ? Put 
 your trust in the good Providence that governs 
 all events to bring order out of confusion in this 
 very interesting question. I would not denounce 
 as an enemy every man who refuses to vote as 
 to me seems the indispensable ballot. Some 
 of our old friends promise the country immeasur- 
 able good from election of General McClellan; 
 and to me the success of the unprincipled party 
 that most readily adopts him is the most un- 
 mitigated evil that could come upon us. Blinded 
 by my hopes, I may be extravagant in reckon- 
 ing upon four fifths of the electoral colleges for 
 our present "honest Abe:" and if nine tenths 
 of them concur, it will be no surprise to me. 
 
 27 Sept. 
 Last evening we had at Sunny Hill our annual 
 bonfire. It came in happily to exhibit the com- 
 pleteness of triumph of the good cause, which 
 in the day time had caused the flag-staff on my 
 grounds to be occupied for the second time this 
 season; but if the report of the capture or sur- 
 render of Mobile, brought up from the city 
 several hours later than our mail news, be con- 
 firmed to-day, it shall not turn to my disrepute 
 as too sanguine. 
 
274 
 
 You have, I hope, on the continent been en- 
 joying as fine fruit as we have had here; in Eng- 
 land I know you never can attain to them. 
 This morning the last basket full of our peaches 
 is brought in. Foster was careful two days 
 ago to bring in the melons, and it is a fortnight 
 since his prudence preserved the pears. The 
 yield of potatoes is not very copious but of supe- 
 rior quality. In the other vegetable products 
 my information is less exact, but the benignant 
 winter squash will show her charms to some 
 extent in Temple Place, if potatoes prove de- 
 ficient in next Spring's call. 
 
 Tomorrow will carry away not a small por- 
 tion of our exultation in the visitors, if weather 
 
 be not unpleasant. 
 
 12 o'clock. 
 Nothing is obtained by mail, so we set down 
 Mobile as still enjoyed by the Egyptians. All 
 well up here, and looking for good news before 
 your return to the arms of 
 
 Your affectionate father 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg, 3 Octr. 1864. 
 My dear William, — Whereas this epistle is to 
 be the last that I may ever write you, being that 
 
275 
 
 you have long ago indicated the day of your 
 leaving the other side of the ocean to return 
 home in the good ship Persia, v^hose day of 
 sailing is fixed for three weeks from the first 
 day of this month, you may be glad to learn, that 
 up to this present v^riting all things on our 
 side promise well. Exact statement of affairs 
 you can and must obtain from the newspapers 
 for the great concerns of our nation and the 
 current of the war. The day of close of the 
 accursed rebellion approaches with strides, some- 
 times stumbling indeed; but in the aggregate 
 the country is gaining, whether a few weeks 
 or a few months more of agony are to be en- 
 dured. Our discipline has been severe enough 
 in this school to teach the whole nation for two 
 generations yet to come, that another attempt 
 at revolution for no adequate cause will be folly. 
 From the present the most guilty have suf- 
 fered most, but above all that battle ground of 
 Virginia will be the evidence of honesty and 
 sagacity united in Mason. We may be the hap- 
 pier as an aggregate, before the individual misery 
 can be mitigated; and blessed is the coming age 
 that may hardly understand the computation of 
 expense by which their happiness was pur- 
 chased. 
 
276 
 
 Lunenberg has been, on the whole, perhaps 
 as good a residence as any other spot on this con- 
 tinent could be, but the absence of you and 
 Emma has almost every day furnished me 
 ground of momentary disquiet. Probably the 
 advancing years bring to me, as to every one, 
 after reaching the eightieth, that degree of 
 mental feebleness which produces fretfulness. 
 So at breakfast, dinner, or tea, comes the resolve 
 that never again will I permit you two to leave me. 
 
 Our household is now less crowded than 
 when I wrote last, for since this day week 
 we have parted with eight, and have gained only 
 one, beside Porter, the Saturday comer. Aunt 
 Hillard's infirmity permits occasional enjoy- 
 ment of company, and is not dependent on the 
 weather, except for the benefit of air by means 
 of a ride, which cannot be taken by an invalid, 
 unless in very bright sky. 
 
 Perhaps you may, when this letter reaches 
 London, be already on your way home so far as 
 to have gone to see Eliza, not intending return 
 to the great metropolis. 
 
 Having gone to Boston but once since you 
 left it, and hoping not to be compelled to go 
 
277 
 
 before 20 current, it is not in my power to write 
 any little particulars of private intelligence that 
 would never get into the newspapers, yet be of 
 higher interest than the important concerns of 
 war or faction. In the election of President 
 to come in five weeks the prophetic vision is, 
 of necessity, influenced by the vaticination as 
 to the contests for less important officers at 
 earlier date, as next week in New York, Pennsyl- 
 vania and Illinois. For the first two there will 
 be great struggle, and the battle of blood may be 
 very influential by its report. My foresight 
 is feeble, but results in the right having four 
 fifths of the ballots, and a chance not despi- 
 cable for nine tenths. So ends my chapter, 
 with blessings from 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg, i July 1867. 
 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — I was calculating that the 
 very next day must bring us later advices over 
 the ocean, when my newspaper came to hand 
 with the London news of yesterday. 
 
 Our season is gaining in fertility, so that we 
 ought not to complain of its being a few days 
 
278 
 
 belated. Never was more green visible all over 
 the fields. Much promise is furnished by our 
 garden, and the strawberries reward the task 
 of picking to admiration. The field of winter 
 sown rye is beyond expectation prosperous, 
 over four feet high, running the whole space 
 across from the hedge of the horse and carriage 
 way to the stone wall on the road. You remem- 
 ber rye is my staflF of life, and probably there will 
 be so much, that I can sell half, and have enough 
 to eat till later than to-day next year, beside 
 supply for next May planting. Our pious 
 Plymouth first settlers returned thanks to God 
 "who gave them to suck of the abundance of 
 the sea and of treasures hid in the sand," when 
 their total food was fish and clams. 
 
 We have had less cheerful days since we lost 
 our charming visitors, the Putnams. We hope 
 your own pleasure, not ours, should be consulted, 
 when you are thinking of taking the passage 
 home. What an autumnal passage along the 
 current of the gulf stream is I very well remem- 
 ber; but autumn has many weeks; and it may 
 be your lucky chance to get a fair weather run. 
 
 2 July. 
 
 My genealogical, or perpetual, study is prose- 
 cuted with consistency, and the advantages to 
 
279 
 
 be derived from this occupation may not be 
 realized in this generation; but some obscure 
 inquirer a hundred years hence shall acknowl- 
 edge how much he owes to that Mr. Savage who 
 beat Job in his patience. How unwise would it 
 seem to all the world, if after thirty years prep- 
 aration and actual seven years since putting the 
 first volume into the open world, the author 
 should declare he was too tired ever to complete 
 the task of revision, probably requiring hardly 
 two years more. Well, while I can hold a pen 
 and turn over a page, the service will go on, and a 
 more faithful friend than my volume will cer- 
 tainly not come in to claim thanks for his good 
 company. To leave to posterity a reasonable 
 gathering is not to be charged as base miserly; 
 but as no money is associated with my gathering, 
 the credit must not be envied, for the profit never 
 can be large. 
 
 Such crowds of our people are crossing the 
 sea, that you must know as early as we, and 
 often sooner, what occurs in our private circles. 
 Of and concerning the political world you never 
 need to trouble yourself to write, for you know 
 all that is done is soon told; and what is barely 
 talked about is fluctuating as ocean tides. It 
 would be worth something to know now, what 
 
280 
 
 shall be the state of our affairs twenty years 
 hence; but on any intermediate day it would be 
 foolish to augur what must be the relations of 
 men and things, and hardly is it possible that 
 the coming or going of any acquaintance or 
 friend from or to Europe will intervene before 
 the happy week when my only child's return 
 from Europe shall announce to me, that we shall 
 never again be separated many hours. 
 
 Eliza seems much brighter this morning. 
 Your Aunt Hillard is not yet come down stairs, 
 and will not be expected before noon. Our 
 world goes well, I believe in all matters that you 
 or I are interested in, so trust 
 
 Your affectionate father, 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg, 30 July, 1867. 
 
 My dear child, — That it seems a very long time 
 since we have heard from you, should not be 
 disheartening, because to me it appears a very 
 much longer time since I wrote to you. 
 
 However I must tell you how kindly the world 
 affects me. Since the latter part of June we 
 have generally enjoyed pleasant life here. Now 
 
28l 
 
 we have Mrs. Russell from Plymouth with a 
 little daughter, just the right playmate for Eliza's 
 daughter. 
 
 The date of your latest letter is 30 June, with 
 P. S. of 2 current, so that we look for another 
 to-morrow; or if France disturbs the current of 
 postage as of politics^ we must be patient. 
 Usually I prognosticate good, and so avoid 
 much that troubles many folks. It would be 
 difficult, as well as dangerous, to borrow trouble 
 here. Even the newspapers, so powerful pre^ 
 cursors of mischief, can hardly find in their sky 
 a cloud of portent so big as a man's hand. Yet 
 with as great avidity as ever I seize on the diurnal 
 paper, though after looking through it, it is 
 impossible to tell any thing there was in it. 
 Probably it is affected by the summer sky, and 
 the editors are unable to foresee any threatening 
 storm. Even our national Congress, where 
 usually the members foresee nothing more 
 distinctly than complications foretokening a 
 crisis, has quietly separated, not thinking even 
 the President of so much importance that it was 
 necessary to quarrel with him. 
 
 You will find nothing changed up here in the 
 country that can attract notice, all that occurs to 
 me is, poor old Smailes's house, which has been 
 
282 
 
 shut up most of the time since the death of 
 the poor proprietor. His widow meets large 
 benevolence in the centre of our town, and only 
 two or three other citizens, beside myself, prob- 
 ably recollect that the cottage was once occupied. 
 One or two persons have been drawn from this 
 town to the flourishing capital of North Worces- 
 ter only four miles off. Though no accession to 
 our numbers will be observable on your return, 
 yet at moderate distance from us a growth is 
 easily perceived, in Leominster almost equal 
 to Athol, which is the proud sovereign of all the 
 North, you know. 
 
 As to occupation, there can be no difference. 
 I am deep in revision of my Genealogy of 
 New Eng. having got about two fifths of the 
 work done; and looking forward to finish the 
 whole in two years more, be but health pro- 
 longed. As my reputation a century hence 
 must depend, (if any remains so long) on the 
 Genealog. Dictionary, I conscientiously bestow 
 my time every day on revising the four heavy 
 volumes; and I assure you, that a good portion 
 of every day in that period will be needed. 
 Happy is it that something so imperious shall 
 confine my affections in the study. 
 
 My day of responsibility is past, and I ought 
 
283 
 
 not to feel any solicitude as to judgment of con- 
 temporaries on what has been accompHshed or 
 slovenly neglected. / have made a path easier 
 for others; and whether any shall express grati- 
 tude for the service, or overcast the whole with 
 ridicule, I shall not inquire. One student in 
 ten thousand will understand New England 
 History better in its early days for my researches. 
 How unimportant that he may be ignorant of 
 the humble benefactor that smoothed the way 
 by levelling obstructions or filling gaps. 
 
 If you are so happy as to meet any one 
 (hardly can it be, that you are so lucky as to 
 find more than one) who would speak of re- 
 membering me on the blessed shores of old Eng- 
 land, assure him or her of my unabated regard 
 for that land which educated my ancestors, and 
 has kept up a race of benefactors of the world. 
 Twisleton may be the sole survivor of agreeable 
 instructors of my ignorant hours. If you fall 
 into company with him, I charge you to present, 
 without fail, the most sincere regards and kind 
 remembrance of 
 
 Your devoted father 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 
284 
 
 Lunenburg, 13 Aug. 1867. 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Child, — We have visitors now and 
 then to remind us that other folks are in the 
 world beside those who live on "Sunny hill." 
 Most of my time is earnestly devoted to mak- 
 ing perfect the text, and commentary of my 
 Genealog. Diet, and it seems certain that the 
 preparation for revised Edition to go to press 
 will be complete to the last cover before you 
 leave Europe to return home. 
 
 Your Aunt Savage has not blessed us with a 
 visit this season, and probably she will post- 
 pone to next June her smiles on this part of the 
 country. Of Boston or the dwellers there I 
 learn only by the newspapers, which, of course, 
 much, if not wholly, are claimed for general- 
 ities. Here I go to the post office once a day, 
 and am sure to get a damp newspaper, if not 
 two; and once in a dozen times something 
 worth reading may occur in them. The next 
 election of President draws no general interest, 
 perhaps it is too soon; but as all appear to be 
 satisfied with waiting to be relieved of the pres- 
 en incumbent, we may be confident that he will 
 not be likely to have one quarter of the votes for 
 the next filling the office. 
 
285 
 
 I am obliged to break off this petty gossip, 
 because it is our dinner time; and if nothing 
 more be added before sealing this letter, then 
 you may be sure that your father has nothing to 
 complain of, and so will not inflict more tedious- 
 ness on your innocence. 
 
 We are enjoying in little anxiety the passing 
 hour. I have great hope, that William will have 
 much of interesting matter to tell on reaching us ; 
 in anticipation of which I add my name, being 
 unable to say more than that it is the signature of 
 Your affectionate father 
 
 J AS. Savage. 
 
 Lunenburg, 20 Aug. 1867. 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Emma, — Pretty busy for the last ten 
 days have I been, chiefly occasioned by company 
 from some distance in different directions; and 
 yesterday, most agreeable, from Salem in the 
 mother and daughter (youngest) of my old 
 friends, the Hillards. 
 
 I believe Eliza is engaged in writing to you; 
 and therefore I might take the liberty of being 
 very tedious; yet that may as well be spared, 
 for she will tell what would occupy me. 
 
 You know by the vehicles of daily converse, 
 
286 
 
 how wonderfully our side of the ocean has been 
 blessed with overflow of blessed rains. What 
 do you think of our cellar, on the top of the hill, 
 having nearly four feet of water. How could 
 it be there ? Strange, indeed, it seems, and the 
 only explanation is that the spouts poured 
 down faster than the conveyances, that were 
 not perpendicular^ could transmit their cargo. 
 Much damage is talked, as the consequence of 
 our flood, nobody can recollect within thirty 
 years such quantity of rain. So there is sure 
 to be no lack of material for conversation. All 
 low ground is covered, and water stands a foot 
 deep in some roads, and some houses do not 
 open their doors on the lower story, lest they 
 could not be closed again. However as our 
 hill is six hundred feet above the level of the lake 
 and my house within a few inches of the highest 
 part of the surface of the hill, we may trust in the 
 promise, that the earth shall not again be 
 flooded. 
 
 You must excuse the brevity of this scrawl, 
 for Eliza is hurrying me to end her valuable 
 letter, and mine may be good enough for 
 
 envelope. 
 
 Your most affectionate father 
 
 Jas. Savage. 
 
287 
 
 Lunenburg, 3 Sept. 1867. 
 
 To HIS Daughter. 
 
 My dear Childy — Exhilarated we have all 
 been this day by receipt of your advice of 20 of 
 last month, because partly it is the shortest 
 period that has ever elapsed since the date and 
 delivery of any of your letters. We must feel 
 at the sudden complaint of William, and vexed 
 at the detention of a fortnight in your embarca- 
 tion for home, it gives us some petty relief inas- 
 much as you gain the communication that v^e 
 had yesterday thought had been closed. Of 
 course I had thought of writing to you no more 
 than of sending despatches to the Emperor of 
 China. 
 
 I can tell you of no matter of interest in our 
 domestic relation, except that your Aunt Hil- 
 lard has gained in a very slight degree, and two 
 of her boys will give us a visit from Boston this 
 week which must be a cordial to her spirits. 
 She charges me to give her love to you. 
 
 We have no company to occupy our leisure 
 hours now, except a single young lady who has 
 quite fascinated us by her amiable manners 
 and cultivated conversation. 
 
 I am obliged to close this scrawl, because the 
 mail at our next town must close in one hour, and 
 
288 
 
 we shall take a drive to Leominster to deposit 
 this evidence of the delight v^ith which your 
 letter was received and hope that this may be 
 the last this season from 
 
 Your affectionate father 
 
 Jas. Savage.