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LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE OP
HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH

BY HIS SON
VmCENT y. BOWDITCH
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. II

BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
^ie Stiberj^itie png0, Cambcibse
1902

copyright 1902 BY VINCENT Y. BOWDITCH
ALL EIGHTS RESERVED
Published December, zqos X.

CONTENTS
Chac. Page
XVII. Opening of the CrvxL War — Efforts in behalf
OF AN Armt Ambulance System^ — Deatr of
HIS Eldest Son  1
X'VTII. Reminiscences of Katharine Day Putnam —
The "Memorial Cabinet" .... 24
XIX. Appointment as Medical Examiner of the Board
OF Enrollment — Trial — Life in the Bead-
viLLE Camp — Death of Lincoln . . .31
XX. Trips to the Adirondacks — Visits to John
Brown's Grave  58
XXI. Reminiscences of John Brown .- . . . 84
XXII. Trip abroad in 1867 — Reminiscences of Madame
La Place and G-aribaldi  103
XXni. Tour in Europe, 1870 — Night Walk with the
Police IN East London — Visit to Stbassburg
AFTER THE BOMBARDMENT .... 149
XXIV. Medical Work  200
XXV. Letters, Extracts from his Journal, etc. . 264
XX'VE. Letters and Extracts from Journal . . . 315
XXVII. Closing Tears  355
Appendix ... ........ 371
Index  381

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAOB
Henry Ingersoll Bowditch. (^t. 73.) From a charcoal drawing
by John W. Alexander about 1883 . . . Frontispiece
Views of house at 113 (later 324) Boylston St,, opposite Arlington
St., Boston, the home of Henry I. Bowditch from 1859 to 189S . 24
Library at 113 Boylston St., showing the "Memorial Cabinet " and
the busts of La Place and Nathaniel Bowditch . . . .28
Henry I. Bowditch. (JEt. 58.) From a photograph by Whipple
about 1865  104
Henry I. Bowditch. (Mt. 65.) From a charcoal portrait hy
Miss S. J. F. Johnston  200
Olivia Bowditch. (JEt. 70.) From an amateur photograph . . 364
Facsimile ofa letter from H. I. Bowditch to Charles Sumner. From
the Sumner Letters in the Library of Harvard University . . 372

LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE OF HENRY
INGERSOLL BOWDITCH

CHAPTER XVII
OPENING OF THE CIVIL WAR  EFFORTS IN BEHALF
OP AN ARMY AMBULANCE SYSTEM  DEATH OF
HIS ELDEST SON 1861-1863
Close upon what has been recorded in the last chapter
came the stirring events which shook the American nation
to its foundations. They were years of intense meaning
to my father. Although by nature utterly opposed to the
horrors of war, and for years unwilling to believe that such
a struggle was in store for the nation, he was finally ap
parently convinced that nothing but bloodshed would ever
exterminate the awful curse of slavery from our land.
The execution of John Brown in 1859, and the sentiments
which that act aroused, he always believed precipitated the
inevitable result. However rash and unwise he may have
deemed John Brown's act at Harper's Ferry, he looked
deeper and recognized the mighty heroism that pervaded
the man's whole character, and reverenced his memory ever
after as one who had given up home, family, and friends
and finally met a martyr's death in the cause of freedom.
The comparative quiet of the months following this act
my father felt with others to be but the " lull before the
VOL. n.

2 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
storm," and that the nation was breathing deep and strong,
as it were, on the eve of a terrific contest.
The signal was sounded with the first gun at Fort
Sumter. The excitement of the people is pictured in the
following extracts from my father's Journal : —
April 21, 1861.
A week since, three days before Nat [his brother]
died, Governor Pickens of South Carolina took pos
session of Fort Sumter, and the American flag was
trailed in the dust. Ye gods, what a change has
come over the spirit of our people since that occur
rence ! We had been lying as in a state of apparent
listlessness ; there seemed no head, no man for the
hour. Now, under the stirring proclamation of Lin
coln and call to arms, the whole North is a unit.
We allow no treason. Newspapers that have been
preaching Southern sentiments are gagged and com
pelled by an insulted people to stop their vile trea
sonable talk, and the whole people is ahve for the
battle. We have no room for our volunteers to the
sacred cause of our country and for freedom. The
recruiting drum and fife are piping in our streets
from early dawn, even on the day so sacred to Puri
tanic eyes (Sunday). A mass meeting in front of
the Exchange will be held at twelve o'clock. Young
and old, men and women, boys and girls, have caught
the sacred enthusiasm. For myself, I feel chained
down by a physical infirmity which prevents easy
walking. Otherwise it seems to me as if I would
Hke to be a " Peter the Hermit " for a Holy Crusade.

OPENING OP THE CIVIL WAR 3
The times are ripening for the march of a liberating
army into the Confederate States. If slavery is to
be the corner-stone of treason, slavery wiU, must be,
undermined. God speed the right ! Sunday, April 28, 1861.
The times march on in magnificent enthusiasm.
During the past week our people at times have been
nearly desperate with the thought that Washington
would be taken possession of by Jefferson Davis and
his comrades. AU communication between the Capi
tal and the seething North was shut off by a Balti
more mob, which had, on the 19th of April (anniver
sary of Lexington battle), shot down men of the
Massachusetts 6th. During the time of want of
intercourse, the newspapers, feeling that nothing was
being done by the Federal Government, called loudly
upon it to be more in earnest and to wake up to the
idea of our being absolutely in the midst of revolu
tion. The New York " Times " hinted at " supersed
ing " Lincoln, and George Law told the President
by a letter that was published that if he did not rise
to the leadership of the people in its present hopes
and wishes, the people would assuredly see to the
work themselves. Meanwhile all classes of citizens —
old men and women, young men and maidens, boys
and girls — vie with one another in efforts to aid in
the common cause. The dear and beautiful banners
with their stars and stripes float gayly through Wash
ington Street from every house. Numerous new

4 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
flagstaffs have been raised, and now at midday (Sun
day) flags float as usual. WendeU PhUlips, the high
priest and Patrick Henry of Disunion-AboUtionism,
grasps the hand of Nehemiah Adams, the Pro-slavery
priest. AU the editors are of accord. There is no
opposition. Meanwhile a lofty spirit of patriotism
seems to thoroughly pervade the whole masses of the
people. All desire to give. Rev. Mr. Stebbins of
Woburn gives up a quarter of his salary annuaUy
during the war. School-teachers of this city resign
one quarter of their salaries. The old farmer's wife
seUs her only cow to give money to her son going to
the war. The cowards are marked. Captain S 
of H  and the officers of Chelsea showed the white
feather. Their men rode over them, chose new com
manders, and have gone to the war. In a word, the
great North seems sublimely grand in its entire una
nimity of sentiment to sustain the idea of human
government emblemed in our stars and stripes. Each
man seems to feel that Revolutionary days were as
nothing to these. We feel that we are fighting to
see whether in aU future [time] the American nation
shall be a stumbling block to humanity in its strug
gle over the right of self-government.
Meanwhile the Confederate States seem resting,
whether for a final spring at the [throat] of the
nation or because unable to get forward.
Here the Journal breaks abruptly off. In a letter to a
friend he again alludes to the outbreak of the war.

OPENING OP THE CIVIL WAR 5
TO MISS MARY HUDSON. April 19, 1861.
I thank you for your kind note in reference to my
good brother's death. It was truly beautiful, and I
shaU cherish the memory of it to my dying hour. . . .
I cannot think of him as dead ; although dead, he
yet speaketh to my heart of hearts. . . .
What tremendous yet glorious times we are living
in ! I glory in them, yet I believe we shaU have a
deluge of blood to wash out our two heinous sins, —
slavery and national pride. God reigns and he
never lets sins of man or of states go unpunished.
Through the four years that ensued, fraught with intense
meaning for every man, woman, and child, my father
devoted every leisure moment with unflagging zeal to
patriotic service, although stiU keeping his duty to his
profession uppermost.
In October, 1861, came the news of the terrible dis
aster at Ball's Bluff. William Lowell Putnam, a warm
school friend of my eldest brother, Nathaniel, fell mortally
wounded. My brother, then studying under Professor
Jeffries Wyman at Cambridge, preparatory to a medical
career, decided to enter the army, and in November, 1861,
he received his commission from Governor Andrew as
second lieutenant in the First Massachusetts Cavalry, and
soon after began his career as a soldier in the camp at
Eeadville, Massachusetts. In warmly seconding my
brother's decision, neither my father nor my mother
flinched in facing what the ever-increasing list of brave
young fellows who sacrificed their lives for their country
must have brought to their minds. From the outset they
sought only to sustain and cheer their son in the path of
duty.

6 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
A touching instance of the deep affection and intimate
relationship between father and son is shown by an ex
tract from a memorial sketch of my brother, written in
after years by my father, relative to an incident of camp
life while at Eeadville, when my brother was disheartened
and fearful that he was unfit for his position. It runs as
foUows : —
He had gone out in the morning earnest and fully
aUve to the importance of what he was about to un
dertake. He came back and I saw at a glance he
was thoroughly depressed. I asked him what was
the matter. " Father," said he, " I am totally unfit
for the work ; I can never govern men if it be neces
sary to do what is now done at the camp. I must
resign my commission."
I repUed to him very nearly in the foUowing
language : " My boy, be of good cheer. You are
new in this business. All things will be well, I
have no doubt. You know, however, that it is not
the custom for any of us to give up an important
object until we have either gained it or have become
convinced that we are unable to gain it. Then, and
not tiU then, do we resign. Now let me say to you,
you cannot at present resign with honor, and all
you have to do is to learn thoroughly every duty per
taining to the office of second Ueutenant. Having
learned these duties, do them efficiently and go
ahead, trusting in the Lord."
Instantly his whole deportment changed. He be
came cheerful and calm, and I believe he never,
during his whole service, fell into such despondency
again.

OPENING OF THE CIVIL WAR 7
On Christmas Day, 1861, the regiment was ordered
South, and on the 28th of December my brother left
Eeadville for New York on his way to the seat of war.
Subsequently, however much his heart may have been
racked with anxiety, my father gave no evidence of any
feeling other than the desire to help his son in the per
formance of his duty as a soldier. No word of disappoint
ment at the interruption of my brother's medical studies
appeared. Whatever fears he may have had as to the fate
of his boy, his attitude was always one of hope and cheer
to all.
In the autumn of 1862 my father, at the call of
Governor Andrew for medical men to go to the seat of
war, volunteered his services to assist in treating the
wounded. His experiences while in Virginia were in
some instances thrilling, and it was on this occasion that
he discovered the shameful lack of a proper ambulance
system for the care of the wounded.
Soon after his return North, therefore, he took active
steps towards exposing the condition of affairs, and spared
neither time nor money in placing the facts before mem
bers of Congress and the public. The result of his efforts
will be spoken of later.
He alludes to his proposed trip to Virginia in the fol
lowing letter to Miss Hudson : — August 30, 1862.
Many thanks, my good friend Mary, for your
remembrance of me on my birthday. I was away
in the beautiful hUls of Berkshire when your bou
quet arrived ; otherwise I should have answered you
before this. I had one of the sweetest journeys I
ever had, from SaUsbury to Pittsfield in an open
carriage. I know of no country more beautiful. I
am now on the verge of starting for the seat of war

8 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
as medical assistant to the poor fellows wounded in
the late battles. Mr. Stanton has just sent for
twenty. I go as physician and medical aid to dress
wounds and comfort, so far as I can, the poor feUows.
I know I have your good vdshes that I may be able
to do something to mitigate the terrible amount of
human suffering now undergone in Virginia. Nat
is at Acquia Creek with two days' rations, and only
what baggage he can carry behind his saddle. Livy
is better. My " Le," thank God, is weU, H. L B.
In an extract from the " Thirty Years' War of Anti-
Slavery " he thus describes his experiences : —
I had never volunteered in any capacity save
when our great war governor, John A. Andrew,
summoned any number of physicians to go down
" to the front " after some terrible disaster and our
men had been wounded, and there was not sufficient
medical or surgical aid at hand. On one of these
occasions I was sent out in a long ambulance train
as far as CentreviUe, and had my pity excited at the
sufferings of our soldiers, and my hearty indignation
aroused at finding the total want of discipline ob
servable among the men, and sometimes among the
officers, of the ambulances. For example : At one
time, in the middle of the afternoon, when we had
a flag of truce borne at our head, and we were on
Virginia soil and Confederates were in some of the
houses, one half of the train was stopped in order
that the drivers of the ambulances might fiU their

AN ARMY AMBULANCE SYSTEM 9
pockets and their beUies with the rich, ripe apples
that hung from the trees in an orchard by which we
were passing ! In vain I protested that if we acted
thus we were liable to be shot as marauders. I can
bring up to my mind's eye one of the burly officers
of the train who came gaUoping down to urge us
onward (the last part of the train being far behind
the first part of it), but who was laughing and
munching his stolen apple whUe pretending to lead
us to duty ! On arrival at CentrevUle we found all
had been left apparently to luck, for the poor sol
diers were stiU lying wounded on the field. I did
aU I could to help gather in the poor boys to our
carriages in order to transport them back to Wash
ington. It was late in the afternoon when we started
to return. I had taken under my special charge
in the ambulance in which I came down, a poor
wounded German who could hardly speak intelUgi-
bly, and who had been severely struck in the breast.
His breath was short, and he had the aspect of one
in agony, yet he made no complaint but mutely ex
pressed his thanks for any service rendered. A cup
of cold water was delicious to him. He and another
less severely wounded were on the bottom of the
vehicle with their heads towards the seat on which
the driver and I were seated. I put the German di
rectly behind the driver so that I could more readily
serve him than I could if he had been laid directly
at my back. Very soon after we started on that
sad and terrible journey I perceived, by his volubility
of speech and his constant profanity, that the driver

10 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
was drunk ! It was bad enough to Usten to such
language, and I was glad when he became drowsy ;
but then another and a worse trial came upon us.
He could not easUy keep himself erect on the seat,
and every now and then would faU upon my pa
tient German. When I puUed the rascal off from
the sufferer's head and chest and expressed indig
nation at his treatment of a wounded soldier, he
answered only with a volley of oaths upon the poor
sufferer. It was weU that ours was not the sole
carriage in the long line of the train ; otherwise I
fear we should have suffered more.
The horses kept in the right track, but I finaUy
took the reins in my left hand and, passing my right
arm around the drunkard's waist, and seizing firmly
the front post of the covering of the ambulance,
during the remainder of the night, I prevented the
scoundrel from falling backwards, and I cared Uttle
for his tumbling occasionaUy on me. I should not
have cared if he had faUen forward and been crushed
by the wheels. I doubt whether I should have
stretched out a hand to prevent death coming sum
marily to such a traitor to his country and to hu
manity. No such trouble, however, happened ; nor
was the lone German again disturbed.
At early dawn we arrived at Washington, and I
reported all I had seen to Surgeon General Hammond.
He told me that he knew the ambulance drivers
were a miserable set of men, but that no organized
corps could be had. He had vainly endeavored to
lessen the trouble. I returned to Boston determined,

AN ARMY AMBULANCE SYSTEM 11
as I was in the Latimer case, to arouse the people and
compel the Government to do something, and to have
a regularly enlisted corps of ambulance attendants.
To bring about this result, I determined to circulate
pamphlets freely throughout the North. I deter
mined to spare no one who I knew had been faith
less to this idea. I appealed to the Society for Medi
cal Improvement in Boston, and the editors of the
"Boston Medical and Surgical Journal" sustained
me. I began in September, and during the re
mainder of that year I labored for this object, but
apparently without success on Congress, although the
people seemed to appreciate the efforts of myself and
of others who ably urged the matter upon the atten
tion of Congress. Henry WUson, however. United
States senator from Massachusetts, publicly opposed
it. He seemed to deem it a preposterous notion of
an unpractical enthusiast, and on February 24, 1863
(after a bUl had passed the House of Representatives
and had come up for the consideration of the Senate),
he reported on behalf of the military committee, of
which he was chairman, in the following words : —
" There is great interest in regard to it, but we
think it is an impracticable measure to organize such
a corps at this time."
Upon his suggestion the matter was " laid on the
table." Charles Sumner, too, kept sUence, and al
lowed the measure to be defeated.
It so happened that, a few days after this rebuff,
I was caUed, as Professor of CUnical Medicine at
Harvard Medical School, to deUver the valedictory

12 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
address to the graduating class. As the war was then
raging, and I knew that a majority of the youths ^
before me would volunteer for service in the army,
I was naturaUy led to speak earnestly to them of
their duties as surgeons or surgical assistants to the
diseased or wounded that would fall to their care.
I urged them not to look upon the sufferers as pre
senting "interesting cases," but to consider how they
could best relieve, by the most tender care possible,
every pain and anxiety of those maimed and perhaps
dying for Uberty and country. . . .
The following letters to Charles Sumner and Henry
Wilson are specimens of how my father was endeavoring
to persuade members of the Senate to take some action in
the matter. December 10, 1862.
Friend Sumner, — It was not until last evening
that I was able to get these documents. We intend
to ask the Board of Trade " to petition Congress
to pass a law estabUshing a hospital and ambulance
corps for the United States Army similar to that
proposed by Hon. Henry Wilson, in the Senate of
the United States, July 14, 1862."
Also, we shaU ask the board to bring the subject
to the early notice of the various boards of trade
and chambers of commerce in the cities of the loyal
states for concurrent action.
Let it be remembered that General  is the
sinner on this occasion. That is the point. On him
1 One summer we had not a single student. All had volunteered,
usually as " medical cadets."

AN ARMY AMBULANCE SYSTEM 13
must and shall rest the odium of defeating every
measure for alleviating the misery of the soldier. I
am glad that some action is being taken on that
infamous place, the Convalescent Camp (! !) ; at least
it was such three months since, and I judge from
what I hear directly from there it is now equaUy
bad. It is a positive disgrace to aU concerned ; that
is, aU who have authority in the premises.
Yours truly,
Henry I. Bowditch.
February 12, 1863.
Hon. Henry Wilson, U. S. Senate : —
Allow me to urge you with aU earnestness to
bring up the Ambulance BiU, and pass it. The
pubUc have seen that it has been referred to your
committee. They wiU deem that the chairman may,
if he choose, bring it up again. They may be wrong,
but nevertheless they will think so. Therefore I pray
you to have some bill presented. Take care of the
wounded soldier until he can be removed to the hos
pitals. At present there is no system, for every
thing is left to chance, save, perhaps, in the late
Army of the Potomac. Do something, and have the
blessings of the people upon you.
Faithfully yours,
H. L B.
In the pleading for the soldiers my father little realized
how soon the blow was to fall upon his own heart.
Within a week following his address to the students, and
just as he was returning from the wedding of one of my

14 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
brother's intimate friends, came the terrible telegram from
his nephew, Henry P. Bowditch, who was in the same
regiment with my brother. Potomac Creek, March 18, 1863.
Nat shot in jaw. Wound in abdomen. Dangerous.
Come at once.
My father left Washington immediately, buoyant with
hope, however, that all would yet be weU, and pictured the
delight of ministering to his boy during his convalescence,
to be met by a friend in the street who broke the news to
him then and there that his brave son, the pride and hope
of his future, had died in camp, twenty-four hours after
receiving his fatal wound in a brilliant cavalry charge at
Kelly's Ford, Virginia. Later, my father had to endure
the agony of learning that, having been left for hours
upon the field, my brother was at last painfully and slowly
removed to the camp upon a horse's back by a fellow
soldier, who found him suffering and alone, no ambulance
having been provided for the wounded.
On the eve of March 15, my brother had written,
brightly and hopefully, that by the early part of the next
week he might be at home on a furlough. He spoke the
truth, but it was not to be as he had hoped. Within the
week he was brought home to his grief -stricken family and
friends. In the breast-pocket of his coat, in addition to a tiny
cross, which my brother had carved from a piece of wood,
were found a letter, filled with affectionate advice, and a
copy of Korner's " Battle Prayer," both sent him by my
father. Eain-soaked and worn, they had been his con
stant companions for many months ; sweet but heart-break
ing evidences of the mutual love between father and son.
Nothing could have been more characteristic of my

AN ARMY AMBULANCE SYSTEM 15
father, however, than that, although crushed and stricken
at heart by his son's death, he would not repine, but
instantly devoted himself, more actively than ever, to the
cause he had espoused, using the incident of my brother's
suffering upon the field as an additional proof of the
shameful lack of care of the wounded in battle. In later
years he alludes as follows, in the manuscript of the
" Thirty Years' War," to his action in the matter : —
Only twenty-two days after Mr. Wilson crushed
the Ambulance BiU in the Senate, and scarcely a
week after the deUvery of the address [to the stu
dents], the terrible tale came to me that my eldest
son, a most dear youth, beloved by all, had also
fallen, and had been left in torture on the battle
field by the side of his dead steed. I learned, more
over, subsequently, that a stranger horseman passing
by, and perceiving his lamentable condition, had dis
mounted and persuaded the unknown officer to allow
himself to be put on the stranger's horse. He had
done so with difficulty, and leaning forward over the
pummel of the saddle, had been painfully taken from
the field, and even now it is a shock to me to think
of the extra suffering thus entaUed upon a brave
young officer ; and he was only one of the thousands
thus deserted in the hours of agony by the country
they were fighting to preserve ! And bitter the
thought that Henry WUson and Charles Sumner
and all the Senators of the free States, so far as I
know, had been lacking in duty to their defenders.
Nat was fortunate in having a "good Samaritan pass
that way," whUe others, who should have long before

16 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
made arrangements for the care of the wounded,
had either neglected that duty or openly opposed
all action. This death of my son summoned me Uke
the notes of the bugle to the charging soldier. It
stirred me to the depths of woe, but at the same
time seemed to me to be the harbinger of victory
over aU. I determined, a stricken father as I was,
to lay aside all thought of self, save as a means of
stirring the whole people in such a way that the
Government would be forced to do something to
prevent thereafter such vUe treachery, as I deemed
it, to every soldier of the Northern armies.
Accordingly, by the time the address was ready
to be circulated, I had prepared, as an appendix to
it, " A Brief Plea for an Ambulance System for the
Army of the United States, as drawn from the extra
sufferings of the late Nathaniel Bowditch and a
wounded comrade." ^ My preface to the plea, which
I sent out broadly and regardless of expense, was as
foUows : —
To THE Loyal and Humane Hearts of Northern
Men and Women : —
Some extra copies of this plea for an ambulance
system in the United States armies are printed from
an appendix to a valedictory address, deUvered before
a class of medical students.
I know of no other way in which any man can
fuUy act up to the duties of the hour than by a
faithful expression in thought and action of what-
1 Boston : Ticknor & Fields, 1863.

AN ARMY AMBULANCE SYSTEM 17
ever his mind or his hand may find to do towards
assisting the country and our brave army in their
present trials. Providentially, as I deem it, I have
been twice brought to know the wretched want of
system now existing in the arrangements for taking
care of the wounded on the field of battle ; viz.,
during my visit to CentreviUe in September last, and
from the dying statements of my son.
I am fully sensible of the imperfections of this
appeal to the men and women of the North. I make
it, however, under a solemn sense of responsibUity.
I should be faithless to what I deem a high trust
were I to allow any fear of making an imperfect
statement to deter me, and on that account should
keep silent.
Let me earnestly appeal to aU loyal and humane
hearts to look into this matter for themselves, and
then I am sure something wiU be done.
The responsibiUty of allowing these evils to con
tinue rests with you. I pray you not to fail of
using your most active exertions to overcome them.
Henry I. Bowditch.
To my utter astonishment and delight, within a
very short time Mr. WUson volunteered to intro
duce a bill for an ambulance department of men
driUed for the purpose of taking care of the wounded.
And my end was accomplished, for I cared not what
special arrangement was made, so long as a corps of
driUed men was thereafter to be with every army
of these United States.
VOL. n.

18 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
I have thought it weU to give two or three letters,
written to warm friends at this period, for they show my
father's attitude of mind even in the midst of his great
sorrow. TO miss HUDSON. March 26, 1863.
I thank you for your kind letter. I knew I woiJd
have aU your warmest sympathy. I never knew the
golden treasure committed to my charge. Thank
the Lord for aU his goodness, for having vouchsafed
to give to me so noble a son. With a simple reUgious
trust in God, and with the fullest conviction that he
was in the path of duty, he devoted himself to this
sacred war. Entirely opposed by his gentle nature
to aught aUied to bloodshed or tumult, he neverthe
less, under the steady inspiration of patriot devotion
to his country in the hour of her trial, hurled him
self, whoUy without fear, apparently, upon the ad
vancing foe, and I cannot but think, my dear friend,
that at that hour he remembered a remark that I
made in one of my late letters to him ; viz., " If ever
in the fight, strike hard and home in behalf of the
noble cause of Liberty and Free Government." God,
however, nerved the arm, and gave almost super^
human strength to his work, untU overborne by the
foe. I have most perfect letters from General Aver-
iU, Colonel Duffie, Colonel Curtis, etc., which I hope
you vdU sometime see. I intend to prepare for his
brothers and cousins a few memorials of him. I
want to get aU the facts I can regarding his young
Ufe. As you fortunately have preserved some of

DEATH OF HIS ELDEST SON 19
my letters, I pray you to let me see them. I promise
to return them, if you wish, immediately, after I
have taken what extracts I wish.
to MRS. WILLIAM HENRY THAYER.
Undek the Blue Hill, Milton, May 3, 1863.
I thank you most truly for your beautiful bunch
of Mayflowers that have been perfuming my office
ever since with their sweet fragrance, and charming
my eyes with their deUcate hues peeping from out
their green bed ; but better than aU, they told me
of your kind-hearted sympathy with us in our loss,
— shaU I call it so ? — in our bereavement, and yet
in our heavenly triumph in the unspotted life and
beautiful self-sacrificing death of our sweet boy. I
love to caU him stUl my "boy," and you remem
ber him more as such than as the fully-developed,
thoughtful, religious, manly youth. We have a per
fect Ukeness of him as he was ere he went to this
our Crusaders' War. It seems almost like himself,
and at times it sends a pang through me as I look
at it, for by it I am reminded that I shall never
again on this fair earth of ours see his bright smUe,
or hear his gentle, obedient voice, or touch his affec
tionate Ups with mine. . . . Pardon, my dear EUen ;
you and your good husband will imderstand me. I
do not repine. God has been very kind to me aU
my life long, and I have an abiding faith that this
blow is only a disguised blessing. Nevertheless, at
times, when writing to a dear friend, as now I write
to you, I feel crushed. WeU, it is all right ; I shaU

20 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
find it out by and by, I doubt not. I hope you hear
good news from Henry. I often think of you both
as two of my best friends, and I am sure from your
various acts and expressions I am not mistaken.
P. S. [By my mother.] When last I saw your dear
Nellie, I promised to write a line to you, but I have never
done it. How much I should like to see you once again,
and live for a while in the happy past. I do not doubt
the future will be happy, too, if we only do right, but the
older I grow the more I cling to old friends and old times.
Henry misunderstood me : I told him the flowers were
from Nellie B. Thayer, and he -thought it was you. Your
dear husband sent us one of his whole-souled letters soon
after our precious Nat's death. I am afraid sometimes
if his comrades saw my silent tears they would not think
me a worthy mother of such a hero ; but I do not repine
or murmur. I only feel an aching void, more sometimes
than at others. I trust I may be with him when my time
comes. How little do we realize the blessings these dear
children are when they are with us. We are to spend the
summer at Blue Hill, Milton. I am constantly reminded
of our dear Nat by seeing the sabres of the second cavalry,
whose camp is about a mile off. . . .
Affectionately yours,
Olivia Bowditch.
to miss hudson.
December 31, 1863.
I think I have never answered your kind remem
brance of December 6. Thanks for it now, if I
have not already sent them. That day is now one
of the holy days in our calendar. A sweet circle of
memories cluster around it, and it is ever brightest,
for it is our first evidence that we have a home else-

DEATH OF HIS ELDEST SON 21
where. Every day that passes causes me to look
back upon the hour of his birth as one of the most
sacred of my life.
His vanishing has caused a blank never to be fiUed
in aU my relations in this life. It has taken from
me much of the zest of my professional success ;
because I have been for years always moulding my
life with reference to his future. Now that future
has gone, and I seem indeed to look heavenwards
and to the far future beyond the grave, rather than
to the present. But do not think me a croaker or
a despiser of the present hour. On the contrary, I
never felt the importance of acting up exactly to the
duty of the hour so strongly as at present, and the
spiritual presence of the dear youth aids me might
ily. He cheers me, and beckons me onward in paths
I should shrink from were not his dear shade with
me assuring me that he did rightly and met a mar
tyr's fate, and that surely no small or low motive
ought to deter me. In fact, I have now three guides
in heaven, and I should be mean indeed if their
sacred influence did me no good. You understand
me, because you have had the fullest experience in
this respect. Sorrow, all pervading sorrow, brings
in its train holy ministers of peace, who lift us,
almost in spite of ourselves, into the region of a
divine peace. I have never loved God, or felt so
keenly for man, it seems to me, as since that heroic
young soul breathed his last. Every moment of the
remainder of my Ufe here I would fain make worthy
of the sacrifice. My whole nature warms, as I think

22 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
of him, with thanksgiving to God for his great
goodness in vouchsafing to allow the boy to remain
so long nestUng near me. God bless and keep you.
Ever Truly yours, H. I. B.
In spite of the brave spirit evinced by my father after
my brother's death, the foUowing short extract from his
Journal of a year later gives proof of the sorrow he endured
in his great loss. March 17, 1864.
Nearly two years have swept onward, and how
much has happened ! Just one year ago the dread
ful telegram reached me of another Nat Bowditch
having faUen. My darUng boy was a year since this
p. M. wounded fataUy when leading a cavalry charge,
and died in twenty-four hours. Elsewhere may be
found the testimony to his noble courage in the
fight, and perfect serenity in death, making him
worthy of being associated with his grandfather and
uncle. But how much has aU the beauty of Ufe
gone from me. I seem to have nobody to look for
ward to as my successor, and the sweet hopes I had
formed of him are all vanished. His death seems to
have added ten years to my age. God grant that I
may derive from it all the good intended.
There is to me a beautiful yet tragic pathos resting upon
this part of what may be justly called the stirring drama
of my father's life, in its connection with the great anti-
slavery movement and the death of my brother, when we
caU to mind the incident of the little boy of eleven taken
from his bed in the early morning by his father to witness

DEATH OF HIS ELDEST SON 23
the return of the slave to a life of bondage, and when we
ponder upon the significance of that act to both father and
son. The deep and stern impression made on the young pure
soul of the boy, and the desire of the father as he him
self has said, like HamUcar of old, to implant in his son
a hatred of slavery, were but the foreshadowings of the
events which were soon to follow. Twelve years later the
stricken father was called upon to yield up his beloved
son, cut down in the strength and beauty of his early
manhood, as a sacrifice to what they both held as above
price, — the sacred cause of human freedom.
As we think of this, and other innumerable examples of
lofty devotion to an ideal within our own time, can we say
that we Uve in a prosaic and unchivalric age ?

CHAPTER XVm
reminiscences oe katharine day putnam — the
"memorial cabinet"
No memoir of my father would be complete when speak
ing of this period without special mention of one who,
from the time of my brother's death, was destined to be
drawn to my father by the closest ties of affection and
tender association.
My brother was engaged to be married to Miss Katharine
Day Putnam, the eldest daughter of Judge John Phelps
Putnam of Boston, a young lady who possessed not only
beauty, wonderful charm and grace of manner, but great
strength and sweetness of character.
Her love and devotion to my brother's memory seemed
to hallow her in my father's eyes, and she became indeed
a " veritable daughter in the household," beloved by every
one. No one who knew them could have failed to be im
pressed with the beautiful relation existing between my
father and his " second daughter," as he always loved to
call her, and their devotion to each other previous to her
death, twelve years after my brother f eU in the war, make
one of the most touching and beautiful features of his life.
I append here part of a letter written to my sister, in
which he aUudes to his " second daughter," and his feel
ing for her. Paeis, September 23, 1867.
I cannot teU you how I appreciated your remark
in regard to our happy home. WeU, Darling, I

'-.M4
1 ¦¦¦¦¦- . : ¦ ms

1

i

1

r ,fe

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113 BOYLSTON STREET, BOSTON
(The house is seen directly in the centre of both pictures)

REMINISCENCES 25
have a right to say it, that from the moment of your
and Nat's and Ned's and Vin's birth, I have felt
that whatever else might happen, you all should be
surrounded by a loving atmosphere. Hence always
the good-night kiss became with me a sacred duty,
as weU as a deUght. Then, too, I now remember
when you, a Uttle toddle, woiUd come and ask to sit
on my knee when I was writing. Whatever I was
doing I always granted it. And you even then
seemed to understand me. You would sit as quiet
as a Uttle mouse, and occasionaUy play with some
Uttle thing on the table ; but stiU oftener would pass
your tiny fingers through my beard, and look up
with your sweet eyes into my face so inquiringly,
but not utter a word. They went right to my heart,
as the thought of you goes now to my heart. Surely,
no father and daughter ever loved better than we
do. And now we have added a deUght and treasure,
Kate, my sweet second daughter, child by adoption,
and the sacred love of betrothment to the dear dead
young soldier. How much of a real wealth of love
has she brought into the famUy ! Poor dear thing,
how sorry I am to hear of her sickness ! Between
you and me, Katy is a sort of household saint. I
look to her in her fond, devoted love for Nat, as one
different from others. She stands in a niche, — I
put imaginary flowers at her feet, — and yet I am so
glad, after all, she is a real, honest, loving girl, and
that I can kiss her as I do you, as my devoted,
affectionate second daughter.
Her whole life was one of devotion to others, and

26 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
especially to those most intimately connected with him to
whose memory she seemed to have consecrated her life.
It was not to be for many years, however; for in the
spring of 1873, after a severe attack of scarlet fever. Miss
Putnam began to show symptoms of pulmonary disease,
which rapidly developed, and after nearly two years of pa
tient suffering, in which my father was her devoted medi
cal attendant, she died February 2, 1875. In this loss, so
close to his heart, my father seemed sustained by the same
lofty faith he had always shown. His sense of personal
loss, moreover, was evidently softened by his keen sense of
the beauty and poetic character of her early death, foUow
ing twelve years of devotion to his son's memory, and her
unwearying care for the welfare of those most dear to him.
In this thought my father seemed to be lifted above the
ordinary plane of personal grief. It was to him a glimpse
of the ideal in life, and it was not for him to repine.
Not long after her death he prepared a short memoir
of her, the manuscript of which, made by my mother, and
iUustrated beautifully by her and various artist friends,
now rests as a fitting accompaniment to the mementos
of his son collected in a " memorial cabinet " now in the
possession of his children.
Soon after my brother's death my father conceived the
idea of the " memorial cabinet," which should contain not
only articles belonging to my brother, both before and
during his active service in the war, but whatever objects
should from time to time be added to the coUection sug
gestive of patriotism and devotion to the cause of liberty.
For the anniversary of their wedding day he had had
prepared for my mother, in the summer of 1865, a large
book containing a short memoir of my brother, the text
beautifuUy written and iUustrated with appropriate pen
and ink sketches, made by Mr. Frank Shapleigh, the artist.

THE "MEMORIAL CABINET" 27
With this book as a nucleus, as it were, graduaUy the
" memorial cabinet " came into existence ; and over this
work of love my father toUed with unceasing industry,
unconsciously building a monument to himself in his de
votion to the memory of the " dear young soldier," a term
he frequently used in after years when writing of my
brother. In the cabinet, carefuUy preserved and bound, are letters
to and from my brother while in the army, collections of
photographs of " fallen heroes," the albums appropriately
illustrated by Miss Putnam and my mother. A large
number of books and manuscripts representing the life
work of the three Nathaniel Bowditches, — his father,
brother, and son, -^ also rest on the shelves of the cabinet.
The first edition of my grandfather's translation of La
Place's » M^canique Celeste," « SuffoUt Surnames," the
work of my uncle, and the numerous letters of my
brother, with many pamphlets and papers relative to the
great rebellion, all give interest to this product of my
father's labors. Among many other articles of historic
interest is a daguerreotype of Jonathan Walker's hand,
taken at the suggestion of my father, when Walker came
to his house in Otis Place in the early forties, not long after
his hand had been branded with the letters " S. S." by a
United States marshal in Florida, because of Walker's
attempt to carry away several slaves to the North to free
them. On the back of the daguerreotype is written in my
father's hand : —
" This daguerreotype was taken by Southworth, August,
1845. It is a copy of Captain Jonathan Walker's hand
as branded by the United States marshal of the district,
in Florida, for having helped seven men to obtain life,
liberty, and happiness.
" S. S. — ' Slave Savior,' Northern dialect.
' Slave Stealer,' Southern dialect."

28 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
On the wall of the cabinet hangs also the famous pistol
which WiUiam Craft put into my father's hand while
making him promise to shoot any man who should try to
stop them as they started to drive out to Brookline to
gether over the " MiU-Dam " in that eventful time when
the slave hunters were in Boston.
Near by lies one of the " billies " made for the " Anti-
Man-Hunting League," a significant emblem of the spirit
of the times, although never used ; and in another com
partment is a piece of rope cut from the top of the main
mast of the Cumberland as she lay sunken at Hampton
Roads, after the famous fight with the Confederate gun
boat Merrimac.
These reUcs, with a pair of pikes, belonging to John
Brown when at Harper's Ferry, and two more " boarding
pikes " from the old frigate Constitution, and other ob
jects of personal and public interest, make a coUection the
value of which only increases as time adds the glamour
of romance to deeds which were the stern realities of those
stirring days.
The following Latin inscription, composed by my uncle,
Mr. Epes S. DixweU, is inscribed upon the cabinet:
" Monumenta filii carissimi ejusque commilitonum qui
mortem beUo pro libertate et patria oppetiverunt." (In
memory of a beloved son and his feUow soldiers who
sought death in the war for liberty and country.)
The preparation of this beautiful memorial to his son
took several years, and would in itself seem to be the work
of a lifetime when, upon looking through it, one sees the
mass of detail necessary for its preparation, and the minute
care bestowed upon each portion. It was the work of
leisure hours only, however, and is but another proof of
my father's power of resting by change of work, as well
as of his indefatigable industry and system.
In a preface made for the two albums containing photo-

library at 113 BOYLSTON STREET

THE "MEMORIAL CABINET" 29
graphs of those who fell in the war, under the title " Our
Martyr Soldiers of the Great RebeUion," he says : —
I trust that these memorials, combined with the
photographs, even of the few here gathered, wiU
show in some degree most fair likenesses of the sons
of our State who devoted their young lives to save
the nation. I think that they form a most remark
able collection of faces, indicative of high-toned
character. It has been impossible for me to arrange
the memorials until this apparently late day (Feb
ruary, 1875). But during the past few weeks, en
forced time of leisure, owing to illness, has led
me to undertake the task. It has been a pleasant
labor. It has taken me from common cares and
anxieties, and has carried my thoughts back to days
that seemed far, far removed at the present hour.
Under the date of " Seventh of twelfth month,
1864," John G. Whittier wrote as follows, when
returning the two volumes of photographs and
" Memoranda of our Martyr Soldiers," which I had
lent to him, in order that he might carefully examine
them : —
My dear Bowditch, — I have looked over with
the deepest interest this noble portrait gallery, this
Valhalla of the patriot martyrs of our great day of
trial, the young, the beautiful, the brave ! I have
read the touching, tender, but brave testimony of
bereaved wives, mothers, and fathers. It seems to
me that this coUection is a most fitting memorial of
thy own beloved one who so cheerfully laid down his

30 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
young life on the altar of country and freedom.
Let me hope that thou wilt continue this coUection.
It wiU be of great and increasing value. With much
sympathy, thy affectionate friend, John G. Whittier.
Marlborough Hotel, Seventh, Twelfth Month, 1864.
Since the above was written I have added a few
photographs, and made many additions to the " Me
moranda" ^ in this volume, which I trust wUl always
accompany and serve to iUustrate them. That they
may serve at least in some smaU degree to keep green
in the sight of my posterity the memory of those
patriot youths, is the fervent wish of my heart.
May the young men of my race emulate the exam
ples of those dead in a most noble cause.
I have finished this most pleasant, though at times,
sad task. May the blessing of God rest upon it.
Henry I. Bowditch.
1 The collection of " Memoranda " is in a large quarto volume of
297 pages, containing data of 146 soldiers, mostly from Massachu
setts.

CHAPTER XIX
APPOINTMENT AS MEDICAL EXAMINER OF THE BOARD
OE ENROLLMENT  TRIAL  LIFE IN THE READ-
VILLB CAMP  DEATH OF LINCOLN
1863-1865
In the spring of 1863 my father was asked by the
Government to act as medical examiner of the Board of
EnroUment in Boston, for the purpose of examining re
cruits for the army.
The foUowing extracts from his manuscripts,^ in which
he gives his reasons for accepting the position and his
description of what occurred in consequence of a certain
impulsive act of his during his service to prevent " bounty
jumping," furnish as varied and vivid studies of human
nature as are often given us to read.
On or about May 1, 1863, I was alike surprised
and gratified at the reception of the appointment,
under the sign-manual of the noble and efficient
Secretary of War, Edwin M. Stanton, to the highly
responsible office of " Surgeon of the Board of En
roUment for the Fourth Congressional District of
Massachusetts." Having never sought that or any
other office under Government, I felt the honor to
be the greatest because it proved that those in power
1 The Thirty Years' War of Anti-Slavery, chapter li.

32 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
trusted that I would be willing and able to serve the
countiy. I supposed that the contest for the rights of the
soldier,^ during which I had some interviews with
Mr. Stanton, led to my appointment as one loyal,
and one who could be trusted to work efficiently for
the Government. John A. Andrew was also my
friend. Whatever were the influences leading to
the appointment (Surgeon of the Board of EnroU
ment), it caused a buzz among my friends ; and one
younger aspirant, speaking the thought of many,
said to me that, with my professional duties and my
private practice, he supposed that I would not accept
the office. I immediately repUed that the offer had
come unsoUcited, and the Government apparently
wanted my services, and that I was thankful I could
serve it in any way. Had I been a surgeon I should
have volimteered at first. Now something had come
to me, the duties of which I could perform as weU
as any one ; and I begged my young interlocutor
(who intimated that I might help him to the situa
tion) to understand that I was prepared to spend any
amount of time necessary, and lose practice if need
be, if I could serve the country. And so I did serve
her, from AprU 29, 1863, untU I was honorably dis
charged at the close of the war-drafting of soldiers,
or rather of citizens and others as soldiers, June 3,
1865. After giving somewhat at length his experiences at the
1 His efforts to obtain a proper ambulance system.

APPOINTMENT AS MEDICAL EXAMINER 33
Board of EnroUment, he concludes his manuscript with
these words : —
But aU did not go smoothly, although I tried
simply to do my duty faithfuUy. As a significant
anecdote of my " Thirty Years' War," and to prove
that it was not " aU plain saUing," as father used to
say, I would relate the foUowing.
He then gives the story of his attempt to prevent a
confessed " bounty jumper " from continuing his work of
cheating the Government. A more satisfactory account is
given of this episode in the records of his trial foUowing a
charge of " assault and battery," found in a manuscript ^
dated May 26, 1866.
To-day was decided a case that has been hanging
over me for over a year, resulting from an act which,
I now look back upon it, was in my view one of my
praiseworthy deeds during the rebelUon. Yet for
that act I have been this day mulcted to the sum of
f 1000 with expenses of court and counsel added
thereupon, about $1600 in aU.
On the 21st of January, 1865, a man appeared
before me whUe serving at the Board of EnroUment
for the Fourth Congressional District of Massachu
setts, and offered himself, with the story that he had
within three months left the English service " from
over the border " and without any discharge papers.
In other words, he virtually admitted to me and my
colleague, Mr.  , that he was an English deserter.
As " bounty jumpers " were then making a good
1 Volume xiv., paper 4.

34 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
business (we had arrested one who had " jumped "
twelve times), and as I believed that, having deserted
from one service " to mend his fortunes," he would
desert from ours, after getting his bounty, I deter
mined, after consulting with  , an able lawyer,
(who stood by me whUe I marked the man and ad
vised me to do so), to mark him with a black mark
of nitrate of sUver, thinking it would last perhaps a
week or two, and by its moral effect, Ukewise, a Uttle
longer prevent his enlisting at any other office. I
marked him under the arm with the letter " D," by
passing the moistened nitrate of sUver four or five
times over the spot. Considerable irritation ensued,
and he put on various applications, some of which
apparently increased the trouble. On consultation
with a furious copperhead lawyer of this city, who,
from all I can hear has been one of the violent
opponents of the Government, a suit of $10,000 was
entered. I heard of it and had various offers to
compromise. I was advised by some friends to do
so, on the ground that a jury would compromise and
average, and thus carry up the verdict to a pretty
high figure. FeeUng that I had done a proper
thing, although iUegal perhaps, knowing that I could
not have injured the man, I declined to do anything.
Action was commenced, and in the October term,
1865, the case was tried. My counsel, Mr. Sohier,
made no argument, considering the whole affair too
trivial to be argued, and the jury disagreed. This
month it was brought up again and had to be ar
gued upon its merits, so-called. Mr. Sohier being ill.

TRIAL 35
I caUed on Governor Andrew, but he had no time and
advised me to employ F. H. Sweetser, Esq., a lawyer
of considerable eminence, and I think justly so, for
he did his work for me most thoroughly. Mean
whUe, Mr.  , lately of the Union Army, one of
Nat's comrades, joined himself to  and opened
the case. He began vdth a sneer at the small posi
tion I held as a second-rate " recruiting officer,"
which was false, and characterized my assault as of
the most brutal character ; also false. Dr. Bucking
ham gave evidence that the wound was being irri
tated by an ointment, of which the man refused to
let him take even a small portion. He rubbed his
own arm thirty or forty times with nitrate of sUver
in the presence of the jury. Drs. White, Minot, and
Jeffries testified also to the perfect freedom with
which the nitrate was used in practice. Mr. 
and Mr.  and I testified to Mulcahey having
given the false name of Fogerty, while claiming on
the stand that he entered our office as Mulcahey.
This was proved conclusively by the original records
of the office, and my own private records, thus giving
further proof of his miserable character and lying
propensities. Mr. Sweetser said in defense that he
was sorry he could not, as a lawyer, strictly defend
me, although as a man he believed me guiltless.
TechqicaUy I had acted UlegaUy, but the jury would
consider the motive I must have had, — to serve the
country, to prevent " bounty jumping," which was
then so rife ; that I had accepted the position not
from motives of gain ; that I must have lost, in giv-

36 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
ing up my time, more than the salary paid (which
was the exact truth ; for the office has nearly anni
hilated aU my practice in Boston, except my office
practice) ; that the injury to the man's feeUngs who
could blazon out his shame would not be much, and
[the injury] to his person, by the evidence of med
ical witnesses could not have been for any great
length of time. He showed how he had lied on
several occasions, and brought up the facts of ini-
tating ointments having been applied. Mr. 
arose, apparently in a violent passion and grew red
in the face, said the defense was, next to the assault,
the most infamous he had ever heard of, and tried
to talk down our record ; declared that I had made
them since the first trial, and that the clerk had
done the same ; that Buckingham and I were in
league to entrap the man and to burn him still more.
In regard to myself, he said that if I had done the
same to him, he would have kUled me. " Why did
you not kUl him ? " he said, was common talk. " It
would have rankled and rankled in me until one
or the other should have died." In other words he
virtuaUy counseled Fogerty, alias Mulcahey, to attack
and murder me. I was astonished that Judge  did
not check him, for its effect (unless Pickwickian in
intention) was infernal ; yet the judge, neither at the
time nor at the charge, aUuded to his violent talk.
The judge said I had committed assault and battery ;
that my position and intentions could not be con
sidered by the jury ; but they must give reasonable,
not punitive damages. The jury, after being out from

TRIAL 37
12 to 1.30, returned a sealed verdict of flOOO.
And so ends my case, and I think that justice legal
may have been done, but justice moral has been
woefuUy wronged. If I shoiUd not do the same
thing under similar circumstances, the law ought to
give the right to do so to some one, and thus prevent
the wholesale swindling practiced by the bounty
jumpers. I received the verdict as another of my
offerings to the war. God be thanked that slavery
and spurious democracy were killed by it.
I should have mentioned the fact that there is
not now and never has been any scar, technically
speaking, and only a discoloration now remaining. I
forgot that the scoundrel swore that I said I was
going to take off a mark that was on the side. Dr.
Carney, their own witness, tried the experiment on
his own arm by rubbing twenty times, and they were
afraid to put him on the stand because it produced
no effect. The fact is, the clients were base men,
and any lawyer who would argue as  did, was
their equal and no more. One learns human nature
as one goes on in Ufe. One of the saddest and one
of the most disgusting features of the whole affair
connected with my trial was the behavior of my
supposed friend and my actual aid at the burning.
Him I consulted at the time, and but for his aid and
legal support would not have dared to touch the
man. But Mr.  , from his standpoint of law,
advised the act. He went with me into the private
room. He actually held up the man's shirt whUe I

38 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
was marking him. When threats were made of trial,
he advised no compromise. Said no jury would
bring in a verdict, and that his firm would carry
along the case and he would testify. AU these lat
ter things I did and he did ; that is, I followed his
advice and intrusted his firm with the case. I soon
found, however, that he was going to let me bear
the whole weight, which betrayed a certain meanness
which I could not understand ; but my astonishment
knew no bounds when, among the items of contin
gent expenses, was a bill of $100 for his firm.
'T is true that when the act of meanness was pre
sented baldly to him, he had the decency to deduct
his share, $50 ; but his whole course was one remind
ing me of some of Dickens's lawyers.
A keen sense of the injustice of the verdict, and grati
tude for the many expressions of sympathy which he re
ceived, led my father to send the foUowing reply to a let
ter received from the Governor, Hon. A. H. BuUock.
Boston, June 2, 1866.
His Excellency, Hon. A. H. Bullock, Governor of
Massachusetts :
Sir, — I thank you very much for your sympa
thy, expressed through our mutual friend. Dr. H.
G. Clark, in regard to the late trial before the Supe
rior Court. Next to the consciousness of rectitude
not only of motive but of action in the premises, I
value the cordial sympathy I have received from many
in this community. Coming from the chief magis
trate of the Commonwealth, it is peculiarly gratify-

TRIAL 39
ing. I shaU do nothing further in the case, and
even if I could, by any legal quibble, appeal, I should
refuse to do so, on the ground that while a judge
can sit silent, and aUow a counsel to stimulate the
plaintiff to a murderous assault upon the defendant,
I, for one, wiU never appeal to the courts of Mas
sachusetts. Allow me to state briefly the facts in the case pre
viously to mentioning the ground on which I support
the above opinion.
After giving the facts of the trial he proceeds : —
. . . But I do not write this letter chiefly for
the purpose of detaiUng to you my affairs. I have
a higher object in view, viz., the maintaining, so far
as Ues in my power, the purity of the trial by jury,
and the keeping unspotted the ermine of Massachu
setts justice, both of which I think have been totally
lost sight of in my recent trial by the opposing coun
sel, Mr.  , and by the presiding judge, during the
progress of the case.
I pass over briefly all the browbeating of myself
and of my witnesses by Mr.  . Such Ucense
seems to be taken by all low-lived attorneys in all
our courts, however much such conduct may be
despised by high-minded counselors in the same
courts. Such browbeating and such hypotheses are
considered right and fair in the courts of justice of
Massachusetts. . . .
The whole harangue was a violent incentive to
the plaintiff to make a murderous assault upon me.

40 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
... I looked to the Bench for my support, and
as it appears I looked in vain. So far as any action
on that occasion will justify a general inference, a
judge of the Superior Court of Massachusetts has
no authority, or, if he possesses authority, he may not
have the will either to defend a party in a suit from
unjustifiable and atrocious attacks by counsel, or even
to prevent in open court a counselor from inciting
his cUent to commit murder.
Judge  sat, during the violent and disgust
ing tirade of Mr.  , sUent, with unmoved coun
tenance, apparently in stolid indifference as to the
effect it might produce.
I stiU hoped, however, that at least in his charge
to the jury he would protest against such language
on the part of an advocate, and warn the jury not
to allow their minds to be influenced by such invec
tives. But he said nothing in the way of protest,
made no aUusion to the fact. By this neglect I feel
that he did a great wrong to me, and brought dis
grace, so far as one man can, upon the pure fame of
Massachusetts justice.
I have the honor to be.
Very respectfully,
Henry I. Bowditch.
July 15, 1866.
Sir, — The foregoing is a copy of a letter I wrote
to you more than a month ago. It is now sent to
you after consulting with several friends. It is

TRIAL 41
right that the executive of the Commonwealth should
know how the state courts are conducted, even if he
have no authority to interfere. I reserve to myself
the right to do whatever I may in the future deem best
in regard to the communication thus made, and you
have equal liberty to use it as you think appropriate.
With sentiments of most respectfid consideration,
I remain, H. I. B.
The following letters are inserted as typical expressions
of the opinion of eminent men upon my father's action : —
FROM JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE.  , 1866.
My dear Doctor, — I have read with much satisfaction
your letter to Governor Bullock. In my opinion it ought
to be published. I do not think you can reach these ir
responsible characters in any other way than by dragging
them to the light. The press is the court of final appeal,
to which every case is to be transferred which ought to
have the stamp and sentence of public opinion affixed to it.
Truly yours,
James Freeman Clarke.
Dr. H. I. Bowditch. FROM, JOHN T. SARGENT, ESQ.
13 Chestnut Street, June 25, 1866.
My dear Doctor, — My first impression, I confess,
after reading your able document of address to Governor
BuUock, was, that however " the end " you so wisely pro
posed in this case might " justify tbe means " you took in
fixing the mark on " Fogerty," it had rendered you liable,
as the event proved, to just that stringent course of legal
proceeding and prosecution which he and his legal advisers
might like to make money out of.

42 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
Nevertheless, you 've done nobly and well in this cour
ageous protest, as your instincts and temperament always
lead you to do.
There are few men who have the moral bravery in such
cases to take the risk of narrow verdicts in any earthly
court for the sake of aUegiance to that " higher court " of
moral obligations.
In the hope that this manifesto of yours to the governor
may take other form through the press for the fitting and
timely rebuke of wrong-doers,
I am very truly yours,
John T. Sargent.
In thus recalling the facts of this extraordinary episode,
it is without the least desire to excite bitter feeling or
comment. It was an important event in my father's life,
and as such must be recorded, although not throwing a
pleasant light upon some with whom he was thrown in
contact. To some, the decision of the judge and the jury
was one of the necessities of the proper enforcement of
law for the protection of person ; to others, of whom there
are many, as evinced by the numerous letters received by
my father, and written in total disapproval and strong
condemnation of the result, the decision was an outrageous
perversion of moral justice.
Whatever the opinion, the fact remains that in accept
ing the decision, my father made no outward complaint ;
his dignified behavior under such trying circumstances
being such as to excite the comment of aU. Hurt and
wounded to the heart's core as he was, not only by the
conduct of those whom he had believed to be his friends,
more especially by the one who had been his dead son's
" companion in arms," but also by the fact that his own
State, which he had faithfully served, could allow what he
deemed, in the abstract, a great perversion of justice, he

LIFE IN THE RE AD VILLE CAMP 43
said little or nothing, gently but firmly declining offers
of pecuniary assistance from one or two generous-hearted
citizens of Boston, who not only openly expressed their
personal indignation that such treatment of a faithful
servant of the Government could take place under the
laws of Massachusetts, but begged him to allow them to
assist in defraying the expenses of what they knew was a
great drain upon his slender purse. Inasmuch as the
laws of the State had permitted this, he preferred to bear
the burden alone, at whatever cost.
In the summer of 1863, foUowing his acceptance of the
position in the Board of Enrollment, my father took a
small cottage under the shadow of Blue Hill in Milton,
the EeadviUe camp being not far distant below.
The 55th regiment of Massachusetts Volunteers, the
second regiment of colored troops, under Colonel Norwood
P. HalloweU, was encamped at Readville, and many leisure
moments were spent by my father and his family at that
spot previous to the regiment's departure for the South.
It was his delight to listen to the bugle call of the
" reveiUe " in the early morning, as the notes were car
ried up to his home on the hillside, bringing with them
sad yet sweet memories of his soldier son, who had for
merly been encamped in the same spot, and who, a year
and a half before, had bade fareweU to home and friends
to go to the seat of war.
My father took the greatest pleasure in watching the
development of the negroes as soldiers, and frequently
witnessed the " dress parade," held every afternoon ; an
impressive sight, with the long line of black faces outlined
against the high embankment of the then unused New
York & New England Railroad, the colored band marching
solemnly up and down the parade ground, showing steady
and daily improvement in its one martial tune, which the

44 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
poor feUows had slowly and laboriously learned ; the taU
erect form of Colonel HaUowell standing opposite uttering
occasionally his quick commands.
At one time my father received permission to make an
address to the men, at the same time presenting them
with copies of a translation of Korner's " Battle Prayer,"
" Vater, ich rufe Dich."
With the soldiers assembled before him, one summer
afternoon, he thus addressed them : —
Friends ! Freemen ! Soldiers of the Union !
With the permission of your colonel I now ap
pear before you and ask your attention for a few
moments. Some of us have watched with the deepest inter
est the progress of this regiment from its birth, and
it has been a real delight to note its rapid growth
in numbers and mUitary discipline. We have been
pleased to hear of your temperance, your wiUing
obedience to your officers. I have learned from ex
perience the keen desire some of you have had for
learning to read. You have overcome difficulties
against which many that I know in Boston would
not have succeeded at aU.
We have visited your barracks at evening, and
have joined with you in your regidar religious wor
ship. We have felt that such men, who close each
day with such expressions of trust in the Father
Ahnighty, must be just the men to go forward
boldly to fight out the grand battle for human lib
erty now going on. Doubtless you have, most of
you, heard that everywhere that the regiments of

LIFE IN THE READVILLE CAMP 45
your people have been brought face to face with the
enemy, the unrepentant slaveholders, they have cov
ered themselves vrith glory for their dauntless brav
ery in the fight, and their strict obedience to orders,
even when heated with success. We know that the
55th Massachusetts vrill in like manner be proud to
thus sustain the honor of the North. We feel sure
that the 55th wUl be equal to any regiment, white or
black, sent forth by old Massachusetts to fight the
battle of the Union.
... It is fifty years ago this very year since a
noble youth feU bravely fighting, and whUe leading
a cavalry charge against a tyrant that threatened his
country. For some time before this last fatal charge
he had been accustomed to write stirring songs of
patriotism, which stimulated his countrymen to do
their utmost to drive off the invader. This young
soldier-poet, Korner by name, and German by coun
try, wrote the piece I wiU present to you. He lived
thousands of mUes off, and in Germany, but his
songs and his fame have gone the world over, and
wUl live forever. He was fiUed to overflowing with
this religious fervor, and it made him what he was.
I have associations also with it of a dearer nature,
for a copy of this very prayer I now shall give you
was found lying close by a small wooden cross, that
dear emblem of a Christian faith ! Both lay near the
heart of another young soldier, who, under the in
fluence of a perfect trust in God the Father, bravely
did his work, and now sleeps in peace by the side of
others who have faUen in our noble cause.

46 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
Hundreds of human hearts of men, and young
men always, have been stimulated to brave and noble
actions by this glorious "Battle Prayer." I hope
and trust that all of you vdU sometime be able to
read it, but let those who can read teach it to those
who cannot. In order that some of those soldiers
whom slavery has kept ignorant and unable to read
may hear it at least once, I will read it aloud. I
would hope that all, even those who do not know
how to read it, wiU preserve it. Keep it, if possible,
somewhere about your person. Use it for no pur
pose save to do you good unless, perchance, you at
any time need it as a wadding for your rifle ; then
in God's name use it, and may it reach the heart of
any man who would impiously try to enslave another.
He then read the prayer.
And now, friends, I have done. May God, in his
infinite mercy, rule this regiment as one man. Re
member, each one of you, how much depends upon
your own good behavior. AU the North will be look
ing to see how you behave. Upon you, perhaps, wiU
depend the future good or ill fortune of your whole
people. Let us, your friends, always hear of the good
and the brave 55th. Let it be fierce as a lion in
battle, gentle as a mother to a fallen, wounded, sup
plicating foe. Let its watchword be God, Humanity,
and Liberty. No regiment can faU with these three
words as a guide for its conduct.
Soldiers of the Union and of Uberty, fareweU.
In the succeeding summer, of 1864, we were Uving stUl

DEATH OF LINCOLN 47
nearer the camp at EeadviUe. Although the barracks
were only used as hospitals for sick soldiers, and no longer
as headquarters for new regiments, it was still the family
custom to visit the spot around which clustered so many
associations. Even if unable to grasp the great and seri
ous import of the war, these experiences at least gave me
as a child a deep and lasting impression, which under
other circumstances I should have failed to receive ; and it
was, I believe, largely for the purpose of inspiring in all
his chUdren a keen appreciation of the deep meaning of
those scenes that my father selected the vicinity of the
camp as a summer home during the war.
In the spring of 1865 occurred the deed which shocked
the whole civilized world, and Lincoln feU.
My father's face and behavior when the morning paper
brought the awful news are indelibly impressed upon my
memory. I was standing in one of the rooms of the lower
floor in the house in Boylston Street, when suddenly I saw
him rush past the door, and go rapidly upstairs towards
my mother's room. Knowing that something unusual
must have taken place, I followed, to find my mother in
tears exclaiming," Oh, what wiU become of the country? "
My father's stern, set face, but flashing eyes, and deep
tone of voice, as he told me what had happened, filled me
with awe-stricken wonder, and impressed me deeply with
the awful nature of the deed.
In the stunning effect of the news upon every one, my
father naturaUy shared ; and his deep seriousness for some
time was evident to all, until his naturaUy buoyant and
hopeful nature reasserted itself, and he was able to see
light through the deep gloom which enshrouded every one.
From his manuscript ^ I have taken the following ex
tract, entitled " Thoughts on the Occasion of the Assassi-
1 Thirty Years' War of Anti- Slavery, chapter xii.

48 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
nation of President Lincoln, AprU 19, 1865," evidently
written a few days after the event had occurred.
The fatal assassin's blow was struck at Ford's
Theatre, and our President feU. The nation was
stunned. On Saturday morning when the news came,
no one seemed to know what to think or do, and aU
felt but a word was needed for tears or blows. I
early finished business, and went out on that morn
ing feeUng desperately savage, prepared to do or say
anything to any dastardly copperhead who did not
agree with me. I met one whom I knew to be true,
Doctor Morland, a perfect gentleman. "How do
you feel ? " I asked. " I feel that if any one should
not stroke my fur the right way I should throttle
him ! " Even brave men and boys at school shed
tears bitterly, as they thought of the kind old man
" murdered ! " His last words breathed the peace of
reconcUiation, and yet the assassin, quoting the das
tardly assumed motto of Virginia, " Sic semper tyran-
nis," slays him in cold blood. I felt Uke the rest
of the community. We met at the Board of EnroU
ment, and immediately adjourned. I then wandered
out, and everybody else seemed to be wandering in
the streets to inquire the news as it flashed every
half hour over the wires. FinaUy, I heard of a
spontaneous gathering of the people at Tremont
Temple. I went with the throng. Never was a peo
ple so stirred, and never did I see a man lay such
hold upon the very hearts of the audience as Eev.
Mr. Kirk did then and there. Eloquently, he
brought up before us the bleeding dead body of our

DEATH OF LINCOLN 49
leader, aU sanctified as he then was by his bloody
death, and three thoughts were impressed upon us.
First, Death to the slave power. Second, SwiEt
and sure punishment and death, if need be, upon
the prominent traitors. And third, A strong, hearty,
Luther-Uke beUef in Almighty God : " Ein feste
Burg ist unser Gott." Others spoke, but none met
the wants, and no one received such wrapt attention
or a heartier applause than he. He metaphorically
described God as "tuning up" the .heart of the
nation, as the harpist tunes his strings, by succes*
sive twists of the keys. He had wrenched our hearts
by "Ball's Bluff," and the successive reverses of the
war, and the horrible tortures of our soldiers, until
at length He had felt it necessary to send this last
agonizing pressure in the sudden horrible assassina
tion of the father of the land. As he thus described
God's successive trials as reaUy blessings, each grad
uaUy tuning us up to the great work before us, he
led us as he pleased, from weepings to thoughts of
justice to traitors, stern unbending legal justice, and
from this point he led us, as with the gentlest of
influences and sweetest of language, up to a perfect
trust in God, the Father Almighty, Ruler in Heaven
and Earth, and one who out of evil produceth good.
Thus from entering all perturbed and irritated, ready
to dash at any one, we came out sobered, and more
trustful in the future, proud of being allowed to Uve
and to minister to those noble events that were tran
spiring around us.
The people were all, apparently, in the streets that

60 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
afternoon. Spontaneous gatherings at the corners
occurred, and men who never spoke before spoke
to the crowd. Mourning drapery began to appear.
The shops began to close. The streets looked like
the Sabbath. Any man who dared to express any
sympathy with the rebelUon was put dovm. One
was pitched overboard from a ferryboat in Brook
lyn. Another was tarred and feathered and carried
through the streets of Swampscott and compeUed to
carry the Stars and Stripes and cheer for them, and
finaUy was allowed to go on condition of keeping
the flag at haLE-mast for thirty days. At FaU River
the people compeUed a liquor dealer to do the same,
because he expressed satisfaction at the death of
the President.
In the evening I went to the " Courier " office,
ready for a fight with any copperhead ; that is, I
was prepared to do or say anything severe if any
chance should come. I asked for a paper, saying
that I wanted to know where the " Courier " stood
now, as I had not bought the paper for three years.
My astonishment knew no bounds when I found
that the leader of that evening was aU that could be
asked for in abhorrence of the vUe deed. That edi
torial saved the paper, for I surely beUeve that if it
had not put out signs of mourning, and written just
such an editorial, the office would have been sacked.
I think so from what was done elsewhere, and from
what I myself, with others, was prepared to do. In
CaUfornia several Democratic presses were destroyed,
the people having borne with their atrociously dis-

DEATH OF LINCOLN 51
loyal sentiments untU they could bear them no
longer. Next day being Sunday, I decided to hear Mr.
Kirk. I knew he would speak the right word. The
crowd was immense. The prayer uttered by him
was very touching, and more exactly what was
wanted than any extemporaneous prayer I ever heard,
except, perhaps, by Rev. Daniel Foster, at the end of
Long Wharf, on the rendition of Burns. Very few
were there whose eyes were not dimmed by tears ;
tears, too, of submission, of peace, and of rest.
. . . During the two succeeding days we watched
the papers to learn the first tidings of the arrest of
the murderer. The people were invited to assemble
in their churches throughout the country, during the
time at which the funeral services were to be per
formed at Washington. I had heard enough eulogy,
and I longed for the influence of the splendid old
English service, modified, as I knew it would be, by
Dr. Huntington. The services were very beautiful.
Special selections were made, and the beautiful song
"Oh, Rest in the Lord" was finely given. Dirges,
and all music of solemn kind, were played. It seemed
as if the nation were putting up one vast funeral
mass. The darUng's image (as his memorial win
dow) was ever before me ; and tender thoughts were
constantly filUng my heart. Dr. Huntington told
me that he had the same thoughts, and that he
often remembered me whUe engaged in the labors
of the day. The church was crowded, as indeed
were aU the churches of the city.

52 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
Can it be that our nation wUl ever forget the les
son of this hour ? The sweet " peace of God that
passeth aU understanding " seems to rest upon me
as the day closes in. What wiU be the resiUts of
Mr. Lincoln's death ? Some things are plain. Again
our people are united as they were when Sumter
feU. We are united upon the thought, first, that
hereafter no compromise with slavery shaU be al
lowed. Second, we feel stronger than we did a
week since about justice being meted out to traitors.
Justice of some kind wiU be meted to them. Third,
no reconstruction with traitors leading in the rebel
states. No coming back without freedom universal,
and for my part I say without suffrage being fuUy
given to those negroes who can read and write.
" Nous verrons." I bide my time, and watch and
wait, thankful that God lets me Uve in these glo
rious times.

Lincoln's burial day. May 4, 1865.
The day, which has been lovely, is closing in with
a solemn booming of the minute guns from Charles-
town Navy Yard. They give notice that the last
burial services for our dear President are being per
formed, and he is finaUy placed in his Mother Earth,
at the spot where four years ago he went out, asking
his neighbors and friends to pray for him on his
pUgrimage into untried scenes. How beautiful have
been the many public utterances of that great man !

DEATH OF LINCOLN 53
How reverently he bent before the Ruler of all, and
" waited patiently " amidst the obloquy of enemies
and Ul-suppressed disgust of friends, for the fuU
performance of every act that the times brought be
fore him for decision and action. His three public
speeches which show the peculiar traits of his ex-
ceUent character, and which, as it seems to me, wiU
ever be remembered as models of duty, comprehen
sive brevity, and of most touching pathos, are, first,
his remarks on leaving lUinois ; second, his Gettys
burg address, in which he called upon his country
men all over the land, although seemingly only
addressing the assembled multitude, to devote them
selves and to dedicate then their hearts anew to the
noble cause in which these noble martyrs had suf
fered. His few words were the gem of aU speech on
that sad but glorious day ; and, third, came his sec
ond inaugural. Even England is touched with that
outbreaking of the heart of this overburthened pa
triot and reUgious man. Yet with aU our reverence
and love for Mr. Lincoln, there is not a man among
his supporters who has not long before this come to
the conclusion that his death was most appropriate.
His assassination has broken the last link that bound
political partisans to the Slave Power. Men have
set their teeth firmly, and no one has aught to say
now about " misguided brethren." And so we now
aU say " Amen." God be thanked for the noble
Lincoln, that he was aUowed to live and guide us
for four years and then went to his reward, his mar
tyrdom for the cause.

54 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
P. S. Since writing the above, I have seen a
funeral procession spontaneously got up with two
bands playing dirges. They passed our house. How
every one seemed moved as by one impulse ! It is
one of the loveUest of evenings, and I wUl now walk
and see the multitude. The evening of the day of
Abraham Lincoln's funeral is worthy of his life, —
serene and of surpassing beauty.
The foUowing series of footnotes, written in the fore
going account of Lincoln's death and burial at much
later dates, although carrying us far beyond this period of
my father's life, are here quoted because of their direct
sequence, and moreover because they show the gradual
change of opinion upon certain points which he, with
others, underwent, and because they in a measure serve to
illustrate a very marked feature in his attitude towards
those who had formerly been ranked as enemies. The
curse of slavery once removed from the land, his whole de
sire seemed to be that of peace and good-will towards the
South. In this attitude he found himself not infrequently
at variance with many of those with whom he had stood
side by side during the anti-slavery contest, and he was
at times accused of inconsistency, and even of infidelity to
his cause. Far from that, it seems to me but the strongest
evidence of his Christian desire that the sin once effaced
forever, the sinner, as he deemed him, should be most
generously and kindly dealt with. In the years foUowing
the war, he fearlessly approached those who had been on
the opposing side ; gave them the right hand of feUowship,
and asked for their cooperation in healing old wounds and
in reimiting the country.

DEATH OF LINCOLN 55
Nov. 13, 1869.
I have given up prophecy, which was not my opin
ion only, but I spoke the common sentiment of all.
Now I only watch and wait in faith, that as a God
of Justice rules, so we shaU be sure, either by doing
rightly to be saved, or by doing wrongly to be
damned. Fiat justitia even on my country, because
justice and truth and righteousness are higher than
the country. Dec. 8, 1872.
The world has gone on, God, I beUeve, govern
ing us by laws which are immutable and inscrutable
in their nature. Charles Sumner now stands beside
Andy Johnson, and caUs for what ? — for the North
to give up its animosity and blot from all our battle
flags the names of victorious fields, because " they
promote discord." Nonsense ! He with his com
rades promote discord by talking about what does
not exist. The battle was fought on principle, and
the nation was born anew on principle, namely, that
we are to be one and not many. In future years
the Southerners wiU rejoice that Gettysburg was
fought and won by the North. What nonsense,
then, to ask us to give up all of our glorious memo
ries of battles fought for freedom, as they really
were. I say this whUe feeUng not the least animos
ity for the South.^
' His criticism of Charles Sumner in this case he felt afterwards
to be wrong, as he acknowledges in a beautiful tribute to his friend,
given several years later.

56 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH Nov. 10, 1876.
One of the most curious phenomena I notice, not
only in my own mind, but in that of many others in
the community, is the entire blotting out of animos
ity towards the South, and an utter loathing for those
rabid poUticians who would stir up iU-wiU between
the sections. At this moment we are passing
through one of the most animated poUtical contests
for the presidency, and the Democratic party, which
was so low during the war, is again on the eve of
victory. Whichever party succeeds, it is evident
that the people are tired of holding up the evU that
has been done, and now seek for reconciUation and
peace. I hope and believe that the Democratic
party has been, in many of its elements, purified.
Nearly half a generation has passed since the war,
and a new idea sweeps over the land of Union and
of peace. I bid it God speed. April 7, 1877.
Thank God for President Hayes. He wiU reUeve
the South of Federal bayonets. The negroes wiU
have their rights before the law, but wiU now have
to defend themselves. We cannot, and ought not,
by United States troops, to support Southern
governors. My father's utter disapproval of James G. Blaine shows
itself only slightly in the following note : — January, 1889.
But why disturb one's self about Blaine, when
we think of the change that has come over aU our

DEATH OF LINCOLN 57
hearts as regards the " Rebeldom " ? Thank God
that under the direction of General Grant, and his
terms of peace on the fall of Richmond, we virtuaUy
gave up aU the usual " spoils of war," and told the
soldiers to take their horses to help raise their crops.
We at home could not, at the time, see the noble
magnanimity to which he was then leading the
nation, and to which I think we have at last arrived,
notwithstanding that bitter partisanship may at times
seek to divide us. We were never before such a
united people as at this present moment. God be
forever blessed for the fact !
Not long ago, Mr. Edward Atkinson, a former co
worker with my father in anti-slavery days, recalled to
my mind an impressive scene, of which my father had
more than once spoken to me. Soon after the war, the
grandson of the high priest of slavery, John C. Calhoun
of South CaroHna, Robert C. Winthrop, who had for
merly incurred the displeasure of the Abolitionists, my
father and Mr. Atkinson, both strong Abolitionists, aU
met in or near Boston, and, in token of good-will, grasped
each other's hands. I recaU vividly my father's delight
over this incident. It only illustrated what, in after years,
he always strove to do with those formerly opposed to him.

CHAPTER XX
trips to the adirondacks  visits to JOHN
brown's grave
1863-1878
For his summer vacation my father always preferred
a Ufe free from aU conventionality, and for many years
he selected the Adirondack region, which had not then
become a fashionable resort. It offered him usuaUy an
entire rest from medical work ; and aUowed him to satisfy
his love of nature to the full. In several of these trips
my brother Edward and I, as boys, were his companions.
Many are the charming recollections of those expeditions :
whether floating down the beautiful silent Racquette River,
or camping on the shores of Racquette, Tupper's, or Long
Lake, aU then in the heart of the primeval forest, miles
from human habitation. It is pleasant also to recall now
many scenes which at the time were less agreeable, al
though oftentimes ludicrous. My father's desire to know
the region well led him, one summer, to travel vigorously
from place to place, never resting more than one night in
any camp. Fishing and hunting proved dismal failures
in that ill-fated August. The guides became demoralized,
the party fatigued, and tempers uncertain. Food had
been reduced to salt pork, and bread so green with sale-
ratus it rivaled the hemlock branch with which a mem
ber of the party one day compared it. Rough, hard
" carries," during rather muggy weather, made this vir
gin forest seem a veritable wilderness, and we longed for

TRIPS TO THE ADIRONDACKS 59
home and food. Beefsteak and boiled potatoes, at the
hospitable log house of Virgil Bartlett, a few days later,
changed our views of life, however ; and having learned
wisdom through that experience, my father, in after years,
stayed quietly in one spot, making expeditions occasionally
only. My father's hatred of black flies, midges, and mosqui
toes was something never to be forgotten, and his prepara
tions against their occasional onsets were often droU. I
recaU a picture of him at Chateaugay Lake, one warm
afternoon in July. Clad in a long, limp, linen duster,
which came to his ankles, a huge broad-brimmed, black-
and-white speckled straw hat on the back of his head, a
handkerchief arranged as a " havelock " falling beneath
upon his shoulders, a shawl about his ankles, staff in hand,
he had faUen sound asleep sitting near the old " smudge-
kettle," over which he was always the presiding genius, as
a preventive against the attacks of his insect enemies. He
would often shout with laughter at my description of it in
after years. He never minded being made fun of, when
he knew it was done without any spirit of ridicule.
During three of his visits to the Adirondacks he made
pilgrimages to the grave of John Brown. In the last
thirty years of his life frequent allusions are made in his
letters and journals to his reverence for John Brown's
character, and he always endeavored to glean all the in
formation possible from those who knew John Brown
personally, and many interesting anecdotes of this remark
able man are the result of his interest.
TO HIS wife.
Baktlett's, Upper Saranac, N. Y., Sept. 22, 1863.
Steve Martin's house is at the end of the " carry."
. . . Our sail was pleasant enough, but the sky had

60 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
been lowering aU day. It was bitterly cold, but I
kept myself warm with paddUng in the stern of my
little boat, doing doubtless as much harm as good
towards helping forward the voyage ; but my guide,
" Hovey," was good-humored, and aUowed me to
bother him, if by so doing I made myself more com
fortable. Occasionally, during our voyage, we had
seen a gUmpse of a mountain peak, but I must say
that very little of grandeur has been perceptible at
any time, save once at sunset whUe staying at Bart-
lett's [?] when I looked off at old " Whiteface,"
lighted up by those rays of evening. My thoughts
went tenderly back to the darling who is dead, and he
seemed as usual to smUe upon me and to bless me.
Then my thoughts wandered off among the brave
and true of other times and places, and as I knew
I was near some of the peaks of North Elba, under
whose shadows sleep the remains of John Brown, I
could not but think of him. I learned from aU his
neighbors he was a sincere and pious man, of the
noble old Puritan type. FamUy worship each day
ascended from his hearth, and he Uved in these
wUds a patriarch of a numerous famUy, all of whom
he educated in simple piety, and a noble love of
liberty, such as these mountains always tend to give
to a race. I reviewed in brief his history. I hoped
on my return to pass along the stupendous places,
which in themselves were worthy of a visit, but now
so hallowed by being a martyr's grave. I was weU
aware that many would smile at, or perhaps curse any
enthusiasm for him. I thank Heaven that I glory in

TRIPS TO THE ADIRONDACKS 61
reverencing sublime self-sacrifice, even in a cause I
cannot approve of. In this case, however, the cause
was the noblest on earth, save that which carried
the early Christians to their death. The means he
used were totaUy inadequate, and as we look at the
doings of the colored people in this rebeUion, these
vague and almost absurd attempts of John Brown
to excite a servUe insurrection seem absolutely futile.
StUl further, I would never have raised a finger to
excite a servUe insurrection, even if I knew it would
be successful. I might have commended it, if it had
arisen from the spontaneous uprising of an oppressed
people, because then there would have been hopes
of success, and the people so rising would have de
served success.
WeU, weU, upon aU these subjects I mused as I
silently traveled on. . . .
VISIT to the adirondacks, 1865.
RACQtnETTB Lake, July, 1865.
The first evening spent there was deUcious. A
gentle breeze was passing over the lake, and vsdth
Vin as my paddler I Ustlessly enjoyed the scene ; the
beautiful sunset, the entire rest, the expressive love-
Uness of all nature, with nothing but the occasional
cry of the loon or the sound of our own voices to
break in upon the stillness. The sunset was golden,
and it was not until the evening shadows began to
faU that we came back to camp, Ughted to it by the
clear half moon that shimmered over the water, and
flooded the interior of our tent with its gentle, peace-

62 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
bearing beams. I was reminded of Chesuncook, on
the Penobscot, and soft memories came floating up
of two dear ones now no more, who then with me
enjoyed a simUar heavenly evening moonlight scene ;
John W. Browne, one of the purest, noblest, most
conscientious of men, one of the cleverest heads
and warmest of hearts, one whose whole nature
seemed like crystal in its transparency, was with me
as my comrade. My sweet Nat was there as my boy
in whom I took deUght. Both now lie in the quiet
grave, dead by violence. The spirits of both seemed
near me, and the richest of memories seemed to
gather and to harmonize in their influence with all
the sweet power that nature was exerting over me.
How much I thanked God that he had given me
such a friend, and so dear and noble a son ! With
these tender and deUghtf ul associations, I laid myself
down by the side of Ned and Vin, blessing God, also,
for them, and for all the dear ones stUl remaining
to me. In the night I was awake and up as " stoker "
of the party, namely, to keep the fire blazing. I
enjoyed this rising two or three times during the
night for two reasons, — I wanted to have WiUiam
and the boys warm, and, second, the scene was mag
nificent when I threw the Ught, dry, moss-covered
branches upon the smouldering fire, and in almost,
at times total darkness, to have the sudden glare
light up the lofty woods within a circle of two hun
dred feet. There was a certain weird look over all
in that magic circle ; and while all around outside
was impenetrable darkness, I could look up and see

TRIPS TO THE ADIRONDACKS 63
God's stars shining down in their quiet, ever serene
beauty. I wish I could give you an idea of my real
enjoyment. To some the pitchy darkness all around,
and the thought that perhaps a catamount (eleven
feet long from tip of nose to tail) was creeping not
far off, would have suggested emotions of terror. I
had none, for I knew the beast would be more afraid
of me than I should be of him, and Nature to me
is always Uke the kindest of mothers, even in her
sublimest moods. But food was becoming rather
pinched ; one can't live upon pork and poor potatoes,
and poorer newly made bread, or " flap-jacks." We
had the best hunter in the woods. We had seen
deer tracks, but " de'U of a deer " did our hunter
catch. We hoped, however, for better luck.
In alluding to one of several mishaps, he says, —
John had left us, to hunt another morning and
evening, and we hoped something from him, and
Dan and Johnnie returned up the river to fish.
No one was at the camp in the afternoon, and,
alas ! that at such a time we should have to learn that
cows are omnivorous, for upon our return to supper
we learned that sundry animals who had been very
bold in coming near our camp had actuaUy broken
open our boxes, devoured aU our pork and potatoes,
and made a clean sweep of our rising bread, and of
two blueberry pies, besides breaking two china plates.
VerUy, the gods and animals seemed combined
against us. What a fight one has in this world !
It reminds me of my fights with "borers," "cut-

64 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
worms," skunks, and squirrels at Weston. Every
thing seems made to prey on every other thing,
exciting warm internal discussions and questionings
in our minds in regard to the evidences of humanity
in the arrangement of things in this world. How
ever, we made up our loss by making another incur
sion upon Mrs. Graves's larder. July 30, 1865.
TeU C  that the night before visiting John
Brown's grave we passed at Mrs. Nash's. Mrs.
Nash having but one small bedroom, with two win
dows (one boarded up), and two beds for the five of
our party, we determined to camp in the barn on
the hay instead of in the house. She gave us a vile
breakfast and tea, of poor bread and potatoes. Nev
ertheless, Mrs. Nash was weU acquainted with John
Brown, and spoke highly of him as a very inteUigent
pubUc and private man, always desirous of improving
himselE and others ; a practical man about roads
and bridges of the country, a civU engineer, and a
business man, given rather to wandering, and at
times to wool speculations ; a traveler at home and
abroad, having spent two of the nine years which
his famUy had been in North Elba in Europe on
business. He had surveyed some of Mrs. Nash's
own land. Above all, he was an excellent and sure
friend of God and of man, having been a " con
sistent Christian," and a " member in regular stand
ing of the Presbyterian church, and a high member
of it." He seemed sensible, she said, in speech and
action in all particulars, save the one he finaUy en-

TRIPS TO THE ADIRONDACKS 65
gaged in, namely, the taking of Harper's Ferry, in
the vain hope of rousing slaves to active opposition
to tyranny. Upon his plans he had talked with her
husband, and they knew something was to happen,
and were not surprised when news came of Har
per's Ferry attack. About this point, she said, that
from the age of ten, when, as a Uttle boy, he was
in a slave State, and met with the following adven
ture, he had felt that he was caUed upon directly
by God as the deUverer of the negro. His exer
tions in Kansas, and afterward, were founded on
the idea thus early formed. It was always upper
most in his mindj and on whatever subject he talked
he almost invariably finished with an appeal for
money, and justice to the negro. The anecdote is
as foUows : —
He met a negro boy about his own age at the
house he was visiting. The boy was a slave of the
family. He talked with the Uttle feUow, and learned
a part of his painful history of suffering. He asked
to be allowed to sleep with him, in order that the
talk might be continued. The master refused to
aUow it, and blamed John for asking the favor.
This refusal opened the eyes of John, and he felt
" inspired by the Lord " to be " the deUverer of the
negro race " from its bondage. Possessed with that
idea he had gone through Ufe. Mrs. Nash fuUy
beUeved he had this impression, he had told her such
was the fact. She, however, did not accept the
proposition, and only remarked that he seemed per
fectly " rational " in aU other respects.

66 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
In August, 1869, he made his first visit to Chateaugay
Lake, where later he bought, with his brother WiUiam, a
tract of land, and erected a smaU cottage.
Dr. Shattuck's Cottage, August 10, 1869.
Breakfasted on trout, fried eggs, bread and but
ter. Trout is not so nice a thing when you have so
much of it. So we always quarrel with our good
fortune. The day is lovely, with a gentle breeze, and we sit
in the shade and read or write, or steoU out and pick
blueberries and a few raspberries, as we wUl ; and I,
in order to leave some memento of my mechanical
skiU, have spent about half an hour in arranging
what may be caUed a step and support for old
codgers like myself in getting up from the shore to
the green bank on which the cottage is situated.
Though simple, it is strong, and wUl last, I hope, to
be blessed by ladies and gentlemen who may here
after take up their temporary abode here. I Uke to
leave these relics. They serve to fasten the placid
hours spent in making them deeply into my memory.
I have been reading with great pleasure, this
afternoon, a review (Edinburgh) in Littell of " Vie
de Madame de Lafayette," wife of the famous Mar
quis so well known in French and American history.
The beauty of her character, her faithfiU love for
her husband, her religious Ufe, her influence over
her chUdren, and her great suffering, borne with
such serenity of soul, all interested me very much.
I mean to get the " Life " from the pubUc Ubrary,
and read it entire. At one part it aUuded to the

LETTERS FROM CHATEAUGAY LAKE 67
repose which the family enjoyed at " La Grange."
Immediately arose to my mind a beautiful scene
that I witnessed when, as a youth, I visited that spot
and spent one night at the old chateaij. The old
Marquis was at that time aUve. His sweet and noble
wife had been long dead, but her influence of love,
and bright, sunny thought, stiU presided evidently
over the fanuly. We aU gathered in the evening in
the large salon, and the girls, who spoke EngUsh
and French equaUy weU, danced and talked vdth us,
whUe the old General, very infirm, sat near the high
chimney-corner in his accustomed seat, and looked
on, apparently enjoying the scene. The girls were
pretty and piquante to a young American, because
of their own inherent loveliness, and of the respect
which we involuntarUy bore to the descendants of
one to whom aU Americans bent in reverence for
what he had done for us and for mankind. At ten
p. M., when he arose with some difficulty to leave
for the night, each one of the granddaughters ran
up and kissed him, and he returned their embraces,
evidently proud of them. He then retired, leaving
us young folks to frolic a little longer. It was near
midnight when I was conducted to my Uttle dormi
tory in the upper story of the old buUding. It was
a glorious moonUght night, and I stood long at the
open window, revolving aU I had enjoyed. Mingling
with these festive thoughts came trooping up historic
memories of the French Revolution, of its horrors,
and of the noble stand our host had taken ; of his
sufferings and imprisonment, his recent partial resto-

68 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
ration to power under Louis PhUippe, and present
shadowed future with the descendant of " Egalite,"
whom Lafayette's influence, more than that of any
other, had placed on the French throne. All these
and a thousand (it now seems to me) more memories
and fancies and doubts came up as I leaned on the
sUl of the Uttle dormer window, and looked out
upon the courtyard, and up into the bright night
sky. The chateau was large, and was built along
the three sides of a rectangle. At the end of one
of the sides was the clock tower, and it sounded
strangely to me, whoUy unaccustomed to such scenes,
save as I had read of them in novels, to hear the
deep-toned bell of the castle striking out with its
rich, full notes the hour of midnight. I soon after
went to bed to dream of aU the varied events of the
previous day.
On the foUowing morning, I was aUowed to visit
the old hero in his sanctum sanctorum, and in
another place to see the various American reUcs,
which he seemed to value more than all else. I
have but little memory about them or of their na
ture, but I well remember one large but light staff,
presented to him during his second visit to America.
I have been said to resemble father, and in nothing
do I think I resemble him more certainly than in
my love and respect for women, and my enthusiasm
for noble, selE-sacrificing men. Father, during that
second visit of Lafayette to America, foUowed and
cheered at the corners of the main streets, especially
at the corner of Washington and State streets, oppo-

LETTERS FROM CHATEAUGAY LAKE 69
site the Post Office in State Street, as I felt impelled
to do when young Colonel Shaw rode down in front
of his black regiment, during the late rebellion.
But aU must come to an end, and so my remi
niscences aroused by the " Edinburgh Review " must
cease ; after simply stating that, of course, " heart
broken " I took leave of the sweet girls and fine
old patriot, all too soon for my peace of mind, early
the next morning, and fled back to the " Quartier
Latin," where a year afterwards I was destined to
meet her who has been the sweet "arbiter of my
loving fate " in this Ufe.
So good-by, H.
In speaking of meeting at Chateaugay a lady who had
been a playmate in his youth, he says, —
No boy ever reverenced the idea of pure girlhood
higher than I did. I never did, said, or thought of
harm to any of them. A beautiful girl to me was
the type of heaven, and her good-will, provided it
could be gained by honest boyish ways, I always
wanted to gain. Bartlett's, August 25, 1866.
I feel like a new creature, thankful for the com
ing work of autumn, instead of being perpetuaUy
harassed by hurrying to and fro, as I have been
for a year previous. The woods ! the woods ! They
are the elixir of life for me, and I was thankful to
meet Dr. Jeffries Wyman here, among the wilds, for
the same object as myself, namely, not for " sport "
but for communion with nature. He is now at a

70 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
pretty camp, where, as he told me, he passed three
years since one of the happiest weeks of his Ufe with
his wife, who recently died. He finds nature in aU
its varied beauty the same as it was then. The
pleasant beach, which they had admired together,
the moonUghted lake or evening sunsets over the
primeval and extensive forest, — all remind him of
past joys, but afford him real pleasure. He is alone
with one guide, and comes, as I have said, not for
sport but for the woods. . . .
We discoursed on many things. I like him. He
is learned, and loves truth. He is free, and is no
bigot, though a deeply religious man. I never meet
him but I think it a Godsend ; the moral and in-
teUectual quaUties are both so highly trained, and he
is such a fund of information. He has counted no
less than forty species of birds around his camp.
He is quietly studying the sand waves as they roU
upon his little beach, and argues back from them
to the ripple marks of ancient sandstone. He has
measured the largest, or among the largest of boul
ders in the known world, now resting on the shores
of the lake, and brought there ages ago by flood or
glacier, and showing what tremendous forces and
means of transporting must have been widely dif
fused, which are now confined to more soUtary spots
on the earth's surface. Finally and naturaUy, we
turned from nature to the God of nature, and we
discoursed on the tendency of modern materialistic
philosophy to refer aU force to the sun, and thus,
perhaps, some minds are led to ignore the greater

LETTERS FROM CHATEAUGAY LAKE 71
than the sun, namely, God, the unknown and un
recognizable, save by his works, and even by them
how faintly.
I was glad he agreed with me as to the utter f oUy
of stopping short at any bound, save the Invisible
Living God. Thus we roUed away two hours, sit
ting under our tent, with the front open, letting in
the fuU influence of the blazing logs.
Chateaugay Lake, July 23, 1875.
Dear Ones at " the White Cat's Palace," ^ —
I rejoice, most noble Queen of Heaven (I have been
reading Lady Duff Gordon's letters, and fancy my
self an Arab, and indulge myself in the usual speech
of the East), at your contentment. I can hear you
even now purring around and inwardly singing.
Long may such peace continue to thee, my most
sovereign lady ! I am sorry to say, my liege, that I
did forget, and perhaps forswear, doing anything
about coal in the bins. Now, I will settle about
both by writing a postal card to Marshall about the
bins. They need never have been injured iE it had
not been for that wise young page of thine, that
learned Ethiopian. Allah, send him mercy, for I
fear I shall not. However, I shaU write to the said
Marshall, so that is done I shaU order him forthwith
to put them in order. After that, drive as sharp
a bargain as thou canst with Mr. B., only do not
promise to pay forthwith aU that wUl become due.
* A name given by my mother to a relative's house in which we
were living for the summer, near Boston.

72 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
And how fare the two pussies who occupy the palace
with you ? (Or perhaps you consider them mice to
be eaten up.) How are their furs and taUs ? Do
they frisk around with the " old 'un " ? Do they
sometimes indulge in a fight together ? Mischiev
ous young creatures! I should Uke to see them
now. Or better than that, I would have them see
me with overaUs and sUppers at three p. m. ! Oh,
glorious Freedom, how I love thee, even with mos
quitoes in plenty, if one dares approach the woods.
I took a stroU^ down " Rotten Row " this morning.
(Between you and me, I dreaded to be attacked by
the vermin, as I knew I should.) I worked about
an hour, and got nearly to " Katy's Glen," and was
finally stopped by the precipitate retreat of Henry
(who was in the advance) from a nest of wasps,
which I had stirred up just in his rear. We both
fled incontinently, he leaving his axe behind him,
and unwUUng to return until the Uttle miscreants
had settled in the old hole, whence I must have dis
lodged them, or they had sought a new abode. I re
turned, " a sight to behold," my face as rubicund as
any beet, my eyeUds swoUen and hot, closing both
eyes. V. graphically described me as looking " about
ninety, and as i£ I were going to cry." I stripped,
and took a cold bath, put on dry underdress, and
doffed my overaUs. Oh, how lovely and loose and
quiet looking, comfortable beyond expression ! Our
eyes were deUghted vsdth a long stiing of thirty
trout. We Uve Uke fighting cocks. Give me oxtaU
soup every day in the year, and I wUl be content.

LETTERS FROM THE ADIRONDACKS 73
Having finished dinner, I have been looking over
my consumption cases with my old zest. The hea
venly rest and the superb champagne atmosphere set
me up. Lovingly, H.
By the bye, the other day, just towards evening,
several of us were on the piazza lolling or read
ing or talking. V. and S. were rowing on the lake
in front of us at some distance off. Suddenly the
sound of their voices came upon us singing " Ave
Sanctissima ! " It was reaUy beautiful. We all
stopped and Ustened, and I caUed for an " encore,"
and they passed slowly and repassed, singing several
songs, such as " There 's Music in the Air," " Sweet
Genevieve," " Canadian Boat Song," etc., etc. The
opposite mountains were just getting their rich
evening brown ; the atmosphere was simply deli
cious ; and everybody felt extremely comfortable.
I said : " Well, girls, if we were to read of this
scene, we should caU it romantic ; " and then we had
a short talk on " romance " or " natural religion,"
and " sentiment " or " sentimentaUty." We passed
our half hour deUghtfuUy. H.
After the lapse of several years, he again visited the
Adirondacks, and on his way stayed at the home of Colo
nel Francis L. Lee, on Lake Champlain.
Colonel Lee's " Eagles' Nest "
Westport, N. Y., August 26, 1878.
Here I am again (in this liEe) at this most lovely
spot, and in this charming dot of a homestead, with

74 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
the most hospitable of famiUes. I awoke yesterday
at Verg:ennes in a furious rainstorm. Fate seemed
against me, but I read geology until after eight,
while lying comfortably in bed ! After breakfast
I wrote to you, and of course while doing so was
full of pleasant thoughts ; and occasionaUy, as I
looked up to the sky, I saw that it was graduaUy
becoming less clouded and the rain fell more gently.
By ten the beautiful blue began to speck the
heavens ; so with umbrella to meet contingencies, I
started to leave my card at the doctors who were so
gracious to me last year. I met but one, and it
was fortunate, because I had ordered a vehicle to be
ready to start for Winans' in twenty minutes. Our
drive to Winans' was lovely, for soon we came, as
you wiU remember, within view of the glorious Adi
rondack range, stretching in beauty across the whole
western horizon.
Musing and talking with my inteUigent gmde, I
arrived at WUtze's about one p. m. Immediately
after, I started in a boat across the lake to Dr. Dick
inson's. The weather was beautiful, the air mUd,
the water smooth. We had consequently a plea
sant transit. On the shore appeared Frank and his
father to greet me. They had driven the judge and
Matthew Hale down to see the doctor and his wife.
After resting awhile on the Dickinson's piazza, we
started for this place. We sat up till 10.30, talking
on all sorts of subjects. The judge told his stories ;
among others about John Brown. He says that he
was known as one absolutely honest, a deeply reli-

LETTERS FROM THE ADIRONDACKS 76
gious man, and one capable of governing men under
circumstances apparently the most adverse. He, of
course, had deep reverence for his memory. The
judge asked for a Bible, " if (he jestingly said) one
is to be found here ! " and read what he said had
been quoted by a witty and learned Irish priest as a
prophecy of the doings of General Butler in these
later days. It is the nineteenth verse of the last
chapter of Jeremiah. I advise you to look it up. It
will, I am sure, please you for its aptness. Of course
I was not sUent. I read, among other things, " It
is not I." Sam Bowles requested that it might be
read at his funeral. I wish it might be read at mine
and only silent prayer (in Quaker style) indulged in,
imless perhaps some one would be willing to repeat
that sweet invocation I learned at my mother's knee,
as she learned it from her father and my dear old
grandfather, beginning " Ahnighty God, unto whom
all hearts are open." WeU, what a letter writer I
am ! From grave to gay, from life to death, we
slide along together in our correspondence ; as it has
been, so must it ever be, only every year am I daily
more and more conscious of the end not being afar
off. This morning is superb. As I look up from this
sheet I see the grand slope below me resting on the
broad lake, and beyond, afar off, lie the various lines
of the Green Mountains. The wiadows are open ;
the sun is pouring in in its warmth. All nature
seems teeming with the soft sound of waving trees.
The old house-dogs wander restlessly about me, seek-

76 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
ing my sympathy by wag of tail and occasionaUy a
sound as iE they would speak good-morning to me.
All things are beautiEul, and I feel well and I love
you, and as it seems to me, everybody.
Lovingly, H.
Elizabethtown, N. Y., August 27, 1878.
At ten A. M. yesterday I started, or rather at
tempted to start, vdth Frank Lee for this charm
ing sequestered viUage ia the mountains. I say
" attempted," for neither horse seemed disposed to
move, and one (Via's unfortunate beast, who ran
away, and ran also a great risk of breaking the dear
boy's neck) was in the traces, joined with a mulish
kind of beast who, when Vin's animal pranced and
whisked his taU and snorted, dragged doggedly in
the opposite direction. I meditated how I could
most easily jump if necessary, and Frank " cosseted "
the Uvely one and gently urged the other. It was
a combination of acid and alkaU, and an explosion
seemed inevitable. However, I possessed my soul
in perfect peace, feeUng, Uke the devoted Arab, that
I should not have my neck broken unless, indeed,
the proper time had come, and if so, why, I was
bound to receive the fact with reverent humility as
perhaps one of the divinest of God's giEts. After
about five minutes of such meditation, we contrived
by gentle argumentation to the tail of one and the
ears of the other animal to start down the narrow
road, and soon were at the spanking trot on an open
road toward the mountains. About twelve we ar-

LETTERS FROM THE ADIRONDACKS 77
rived at Judge Hale's. The judge is a grand, gen
ial, inteUigent, and most able man. In the late
afternoon we took a deUghtful stroll by a wood path
almost overgrown at times beside the stream. Oh,
how lovely it was, and what high themes I broached
with the judge — of man, of his future, on faith,
on prayer, on doubt and belief. I found that he
had gone through very much the same ordeal as I
had, and had come out in the same way, in peace
and joy. He said, however, that he thought many
clergymen are now suffering the same pangs and yet
dare not speak and preach what they believe. Time
seemed to me to flow quickly as I conversed with
him. After tea I listened to characteristics of John
Brown, saw a very significant letter from him to
Mr. Hale's firm, etc. TaUced of Whittier, read " It
is not I," etc., until 10.30 p. m.
At eight or niae I start with Harry Hale as
driver, on the doctor's buckboard and with the
judge's horses, for " Martin's," via John Brown's
grave. . • . Lovingly, H.
Bartlett's, Saranac Lake, August, 1878.
Here I am at this spot, so full of beautiful mem
ories, grand natural scenery, and of eventful liEe in
the woods, — all mingled with the sweet thoughts of
my two dear boys who have at times shared their
sylvan delights with me. How vividly comes up now,
at the moment whUe I write, one starUght night
when in our wanderings I had stolen out from the

78 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
side of my sleeping companions in the tent, and of
whom I now remember only our dear Ned. I was
lying on my blankets, stretched upon a shelving
rock near the stream on which our camp-fire was
blazing. It was one of those golden nights in
which there seemed nothing of impurity in the at
mosphere to interfere with our sight of the heavens,
and everything seemed covered with a heavenly in
fluence. I lay and looked up and was perfectly con
tent. WhUe in this placid frame I heard a footstep,
and the sweet Ned, having found out that I had left
the tent and knowing the place he had in his father's
heart, quietly opened my blanket and cuddled his
dear head down upon my breast and then wrapped
us both into one compact mass. WeU, you may
imagine how I greeted him, and what a sweet talk
we had together — of God, of life, of death, and
the " Great Hereafter." And perhaps I knew not
exactly what, but I remember well that I took the oc
casion to try to impress upon his mind the thoughts
that reign supreme in me. I wonder if Ned remem
bers the time ? Perhaps, and probably not, for his
heart was hardly tuned up, as my own had been, by
previous experience.
Harry Hale, I found, had decided, iE I were wUl-
ing, to make part of the route with me. Dr. Hale
lent his buckboard and the judge his fine span of
horses. Were they not kind ? And at nine a. m.
we started. Our visit to John Brown's and arrival
here wUl be in our next. H.

VISIT TO JOHN BROWN'S GRAVE 79
Chateaugay Lake, August 31, 1878.
I now come to John Brown's house and its sur
roundings. It was a fit place for such a man to Uve
in, and yet any place would have been fitting for
such a reUgious, fervent soul, devoted to the truth
and right and to Uberty, and moreover, with a feel
ing akin to that of an ancient prophet ; viz., that it
was his duty and mission to redress the wrongs he
saw perpetrated upon the slaves in America, and to
do so even to human sacrifice if that were needed,
either of himself, of his famUy, or of his opponents.
That noble but singular man, Gerrit Smith, was,
however, the cause of Brown's being at North Elba.
" He (John Brown) came here," said Judge Hale to
me, " as phUosopher and guide and friend of Gerrit
Smith's emancipated negroes, whom he, in his mu
nificent, and in this case singularly misguided, benefi
cence, had transferred from their genial warm South
into this northern mountain region of bitterly cold
cUmate, North Elba." (I wUl state en passant that
only one negro famUy, with name of Epps, now re
mains. All the rest have left, and their lands have
been bought or taken by " squatters " and others,
or have reverted to the State for taxes.)
... I could not help being impressed with the
thought that I was approaching a spot that, whUe
America lasts, or even a love of Uberty exists any
where in the human heart, will be honored by the
most distant, and visited by pUgrims year after year,
as the burial-place of a hero and a saviour. It is true
that some miserable skeptic about human testimony

80 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
and worth wUl try to persuade his readers that John
Brown, like WiUiam TeU, is a myth of the imagina
tion, and moreover a common every-day sort of per
son, " not much of a man." Because human testi
mony repeats itself, therefore one or another great
action must have been a Ue, and two heroes or saints
of similar tastes cannot have existed, unless one of
them was a cheat. In spite of such skeptical
thoughts I enjoyed mightUy my own musings on
this grand soul, as we drove towards the house
which he last Uved in (before going to Harper's
Ferry), and near where his body, slain in behalf of
Uberty, is now resting.
. . . Just back of the grave rise the fine outlines
of an immense boulder, which would weigh several
hundred tons, and which you would have to ascend
by means of three wooden steps. On the shelving
top of this grand stone Colonel Frank Lee and
George S. Hale had inscribed a few years ago, in
large letters and an inch deep, the simple words : —
" JOHN BROWN
1859 "
We went into the house, a simple two-story
wooden one, but nothing remained of John Brown.
His bedroom was pointed out, but not a single relic
known to have been used by him exists there. Not
a scrap of his handwriting could I get anywhere.
Judge Hale, who had a fine letter, assured me that
he did not believe that another piece of his chiro-
graphy could be found in the county round about.

VISIT TO JOHN BROWN'S GRAVE 81
Hearing this from the judge, I did not hope for
success, because I knew that the judge and his
brother were two of the prominent citizens of Eliza-
bethtovra who received the body of the martyr dur
ing its triumphal march through those Northern
regions and had it laid in state at the court-room
of Elizabethtown for twenty-four hours. There
it was visited by thousands. Judge and Dr. Hale
joined the mourners on their way to North Elba and
were present and heard the noble, eloquent words
of Wendell PhiUips at the homestead at the time of
the burial.^ Such a man's testimony as to the pos
sibUity of getting some autograph was sufficient.
The judge, when I described the " Memorial Cabi
net " and told him that I had on it, or near it, two
of the pikes of John Brown and various other me
mentos of the war, thought almost of giving to me
this valuable letter which John Brown had addressed
to his firm on business matters. In fact, he left it
to me to say whether I should have it or not, and I
was compeUed to say that under the circumstances
I should feel conscience stricken were I to receive it.
The letter shows many of the saUent points of his
character, — his love of justice and his strict integ-
1 Wendell Phillips doses his eloquent tribute at John Brown's
funeral with the following words : —
" God make us all worthier of him whose dust we lay among these
hills he loved. Here he girded himself and went forth to battle.
Fuller success than his heart ever dreamed, God granted to him. He
sleeps in the blessings of the crushed and the poor, and men believe
more firmly in virtue now that such a man has lived. Standing here,
let ns thank God for a firmer faith and fuller hope."

82 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
rity, his dogged determination to get what he aimed
for ; it was clearly and correctly speUed and quite
coherent even in minute detaUs. The judge smU-
ingly remarked when showing me the letter that he
was never more quietly but effectuaUy snubbed than
by John Brown on the subject-matter of that let
ter and its consequences from a legal point of view.
Only three doUars were in dispute, but Brown
thought he had been unjustly " fleeced " out of them
by the assessor. Moreover, it had been done
meanly, inasmuch as, according to his own (the
assessor's) rule, the assessor ought to have mulcted
himself of a like sum. Mr. Hale said : " I some
times am benevolent enough to give advice gratis to
my clients, and I accordingly suggested to my cUent
that three doUars was a small sum ; that for every
dollar gained he would have to pay ten dollars in
legal expenses ; and that, upon the whole, it would be
cheaper for him to smother his indignation and let
the affair drop." I thought I was making a reason
able proposition ; but John Brown straightened him
selE, and with the most deliberate look at me said,
without in the least replying to my argument : " I
am not aware, sir, that any opinion was asked of you
upon that point, but upon a very different matter."
" I never had a more complete snub," added the
judge to me.
We stayed about half an hour, entered our names
in the record book, and drove away. If I go by there
at any future time, I shaU make my pious pilgrim
age to the spot. I caU it " pious " because it is with

VISIT TO JOHN BROWN'S GRAVE 83
reverent feeUngs of respect and love that I always
visit a spot associated with valor, self-sacrifice, and a
noble Ufe. AUied to the thoughts I should neces
sarily have when standing on Calvary were those
which came over me whUe at North Elba. The cru
cified Christ and the martyred John Brown alike
teach us aU to rise above the mean things constantly
tending to depress us to nobler thoughts of God and
of duty to man. Chateaugay Lake, September 9, 1878.
In three days we shaU start from this lovely place.
Last night the full moon rose superbly over the
eastern hUls. Carrie, Louisa, and I were off in a
boat, they rowing and I paddUng and steering in
" Kate." We rowed toward and around the island
which always stands, as we intended it should stand
when we selected the spot, as a gem upon the waters
from our eastern window. It lost none of its beauty
as we approached.
... I have fastened our sign of " Katy's Glen "
upon one of the young stalwart looking trees, where
it could stand undisturbed for a quarter of a century.
From all that I tell you, you wiU imagine that though
I have not given daUy details, I have been busy and
truly happy. How happUy Ufe seems sUpping away !
I have read " Les Miserables." What a book it is,
and what a man Hugo must be ! But I have not
done an iota of inteUectual work. I have thought of
consumption, but have always put it aside as incon
gruous with the scene around me.
FareweU, lovingly, H.

CHAPTER XXI
BEMINISOENCES of JOHN BKOWN
In the foregoing journals of his visits to the Adiron
dack region so much has been said of John Brown, and of
his influence upon my father, that it seems best to supple
ment his records of that period with other extracts from
his Journal, and letters written at different times and
under other circumstances upon the same subject.
Among the most interesting accounts of John Brown
are the personal recoUections of Mrs. George L. Stearns
of Medford, who became a warm personal friend of my
father in the later years of his life. His first acquaintance
with her opened with a correspondence about a plaster
cast of John Brown made by Brackett the sculptor, who
was enabled, through the generosity of Mr. and Mrs.
Stearns, to visit Brown in his ceU just before his execution.
This cast of the bust was given to WendeU PhiUips
by Mrs. Stearns, and bequeathed to my father by Mrs.
PhiUips, with the desk upon which Theodore Parker wrote
his sermons.
In what is caUed the " Anti-slavery Corner " now stand
the bust and desk, with portraits of WiUiam Lloyd Gar
rison, WiUiam Ellery Channing, Theodore Parker, Wen
deU PhiUips, John G. Whittier, Charles Sumner, Charles
FoUen, and other champions of the anti-slavery cause,
hanging upon the walls, while, as suitable accompaniments
to these relics, a rifle and musket from the Fifty-fourth
and Fifty-fifth Massachusetts (colored) Volunteers are
placed near by.

REMINISCENCES OF JOHN BROWN 85

TO MES. GEOEGE L. STEAENS.
113 Boylston Street, May 20, 1886.
Madam, — Can you give me any information as
to when and how WendeU PhiUips obtained the bust
of John Brown ? Mrs. PhilUps wUled it to me, and
I deem it so great a treasure that I want to know
aU I can about it. Can you also teU when the
bust was made, and whether it is a true likeness,
and, finaUy, who made it ? I have a stand formerly
belonging to Theodore Parker. Upon this John
Brown's bust has stood for years in WendeU's study,
and upon it the bust wUl stand in my office until I
die. You wUl pardon the trouble I give you, but when
marking such historic reUcs one wants to be entirely
true. Respectfully yours,
Henry I. Bowditch.
FROM MES. GEOEGE L. STEAENS.
College Hill P. O., Mass.,
Residekce, Medford, May 22, 1886.
Heney I. Bowditch, M. D. :
Deae Sik, — Yours of the 20th inst. reached me night
before last, and but for incessant pressure of affairs
would have received earlier attention. You have been
led to headquarters for the information you desire, and
it is an animated satisfaction to furnish you a bit of history
that is absolutely true, and it is quite probable that I am
the only person just now on the planet who could furnish

86 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
you all the facts concerning the bust of John Brown be
queathed to you by Mrs. Phillips.
On New Year's Day, 1863, I sent the plaster cast of
John Brown to my friend, WendeU PhiUips, in commem
oration of the " Emancipation Edict " of President Lin
coln, which made that date an ipimortal epoch in the
history of the republic and in the annals of civihzation,
most fitting for the eloquent advocate of the black man's
freedom to receive, and, as you wiU presently see, for me
to give. A few days after the event at Harper's Ferry I
sent Mr. Brackett (the sculptor) to the Virginian prison
to take, if possible, a bust of the hero who had by his
undaunted moral courage and exceptional devotion to the
" Golden Rule " once and forever settled the question of
American slavery. The circumstances attending the mis
sion of Mr. Brackett are most interesting history, which I
hope to recaU in the memoir of Mr. Stearns, and which
I should be most glad to relate to you if your interest and
leisure would serve to bring you to our beautiful old home
one of these fine days. Wendell, as you caU him, was
our frequent guest, and delighted in what he caUed the
historic house, for here came John Brown, Emerson, and
PhiUips to talk of weighty matters burning at the heart's
core of each. This work of Brackett was an inspiration,
and has been pronounced by J. J. Jarvis the finest bust
of modern times ; Greek, he said, in everything but the
handling. It was so unexpectedly satisfactory that I gave
the happy sculptor an order for one in marble, at present
the only one in the world. Of course it is finer in that
material than it could be in plaster, and you should see it.
Seldom, if ever, did Mr. Phillips enter the haU without
standing before it, always newly impressed with the moral
sublimity, it is so superbly represented, and sometimes
adding in my ear, with characteristic pleasantry, " I wish
mine were as good as this."

REMINISCENCES OF JOHN BROWN 87
I regret that his grateful acceptance of the "New
Year's present " was made in person that same evening,
when he came with the old hero's friends to uncover the
marble bust, which he did in his own rare way, else I
could forward you a note concerning my statement.
A reporter present, however, has preserved his faultless
bits of speech on the inspiring occasion, enhanced as it
was by Emerson reading his "Boston Hymn."
Be pleased to excuse this unsteady writing, as my right
arm was very badly injured by an ugly runaway accident,
and has never recovered its steadiness and flexibility of
handUng. Hoping that you may aUow me the pleasure of a longer
story about your previous legacy, I am
Very truly yours, Maey E. Steaens.
EXTEACT FEOM HIS JOUENAL, 1886.
Of course I gladly accepted her most kindly invi
tation, and about a week afterwards I found myself
in the luxurious and hospitable home at College HUl.
I met there the saddened widow of George L. Stearns.
She greeted me most cordiaUy, and during my visit
of about two hours seemed pleased to unbosom her
self freely to me as an old anti-slavery fighter. She
was one who regarded aU Abolitionists as brethren.
Her husband was one of the sterling type of manli
ness, who preferred to do rather than to be praised
or known among men as a doer of just things. His
magnificent house, large and airy, often hid the fly
ing fugitive slave. The man-hunter foimd no quar
ters there, but his panting victim was fed and clothed
and concealed until a fit time came for him to
run to Canada. John Brown went there as one

88 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
always welcome, always honored and helped with
funds, without stint, and without special inquiries
as to the object he had in view. Mr. S. knew
him as one who was devoting his means and his Ufe
to freedom, then cruelly crushed by the Southern
slaveholder and his Northern abetters. He was,
however, his confidant when he started with his
brave boys to save (as he really did) Kansas from the
incursions of Southern desperadoes, though caUed
gentlemen. Brown had been long before that time
known to Gerrit Smith ; that phUanthropist had
employed him, a God-fearing, energetic, organizing
man, to direct his colony of free slaves, coUected in
the mountains of North Elba ; but when Kansas was
likely to become a slave State under Virginia's
bloody violence. Brown, with the zeal of a Hebrew
prophet, and in fuU confidence that he had as a
mission to slay, if need be, the enemies of the Lord,
came down from Elba to stand with his five boys,
calm and alone, in that Thermopylae of Uberty. Of
course he needed warm sympathy and money for
arms and men, if he could get them. Money and
the warmest sympathy he obtained from Mr. and
Mrs. Stearns in their hospitable home. Mrs. S. spoke
to me of Brown as a man of the noblest figure and
highest religious type ; a knightly warrior against
aU the enemies of liberty ; of immaculate honor and
sincere piety ; a knight-errant, in truth, in those
modern days. She showed me the bowie kniEe given
by Virginians to Clay Pate (I think that was the
name), which that ruffian " gentleman " vowed

REMINISCENCES OF JOHN BROWN 89
" should taste of John Brown's blood ! " The hero
and saint was already well known among slave
holders for his courage and his tenacity of purpose
as the warUke apostle of Uberty. Brown had six
or seven men with him, but when he heard of these
threats he took an advanced and strategetic position
to meet the thirty or forty all armed for that detest
able object of crushing out Uberty by overawing the
people and destioying their baUots. Brown had evi
dently an unusual degree of miUtary genius ; and
weU knowing that an open fight with his smaU party
would certainly be disastrous, he made a temporary
defense with wagons upturned and brushwood, and
quietly waited in his " coigne of vantage," as it
reaUy proved to be. He told his men to speak not
a word, and not to fire untU he gave the order, but
to be aU ready then to pour in repeated voUeys from
their rifles. This plan was fully carried out. The
bravo's men feU every moment, cut down by an
invisible and seemingly nmnerous foe. Those who
were sure of victory were either kiUed or thrown
into retieat by the gaUant few. Pate, seeing disaster
impending, raised a white handkerchief, in token of
capitulation. He and another came in front of his
party. John Brown, accompanied by one of his own
men, went out to meet a flag of truce. Pate had a
rough, dirty belt, holding the bowie knife intended
for his opponent's Ufe. The terms were given,
" Stack your arms, gentlemen, here ; " and turning
to Pate he said, " Give me that belt and bowie knife
and leave the territory of Kansas." Pate wished to

90 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
know the number of men behind the stockade, which
request was, of course, denied. AU the arms were
stacked, but Pate did not want to give up his kniEe.
" I cannot give it up." " If not," repUed his con
queror, " then we wUl renew the battle, as my terms
are not compUed with." Thus driven to necessity.
Pate unwiUingly yielded up his murderous weapon.
As Mrs. Stearns related to me these and other facts
told her by John Brown during a visit to her home
after Kansas had become a free State, she was much
moved, and certainly no one could have heard her
without being deeply interested.
The story was told to her just before John Brown's
descent upon Harper's Ferry. I confess that I was
horror-struck when Mrs. S. handed to me the bowie
knife for inspection. It was, indeed, a terrific look
ing weapon, intended for " close quarters " by fiends,
rather than the weapon of civUized warfare (if such
an expression can be used for any weapon for the
destruction of one man by another). It was bright
and gUttering when I saw it. When John Brown
gave it to her husband it was stained, apparently
with blood. It was about twelve inches long and
double edged, sharp as a needle at the tip, one and
a half inches broad at its handle, where it rested on
a strong cross-piece of steel. An awful feeUng came
over me as I thought this was a specimen of South
ern bloody civilization. I almost shuddered as I
grasped the handle, ornamented with pearl, and
thought of its object, — the drinking of the heart's
blood of the heroic defender of human Uberty.

REMINISCENCES OF JOHN BROWN 91
The time and method of its being given into
Mr. Stearns's possession were characteristic of John
Brown. He had held it for a long time. Kansas,
through his agency chiefly, had become a free State,
while Brown had been meditating upon a descent
upon Harper's Ferry, in the hope of arousing the
slaves to defend themselves. Mr. Stearns had given
money to him in aid of some new plan he had in
view for the destruction of slavery, but Mr. S. knew
not exactly the precise aim. He had entire confi
dence in Brown's sincerity of purpose and general
humanity. They had been for years co-working in
the sacred cause of freedom. It was more than love
which Mr. Stearns and his wife bore to him. He
was in their eyes a unique soul, dedicated to free
dom, and armed with the zeal of a warrior prophet of
the Old Testament type, grand in his human form
and in his soul. He was about taking leave of
them, preparatory to this new and to them unknown
expedition. Handing to Mr. Stearns the bowie knife,
which had been whetted for his own blood, he said
solemnly, as he placed it in his friend's hand, " Mr.
Stearns, I am about to leave this part of the countiy.
I may never return. I give this kniEe to you, with
thanks for your past kindnesses to me. It may, at
a future time, become of some historic interest to
some persons." He soon left the house, and he was
never seen by either of his auditors again untU his
dead body was borne in triumph through the towns
of New York up to its present resting-place at North
Elba.

92 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
Mrs. Stearns saw that I was intensely interested
in her story, during which she had, at times, touch-
ingly and affectionately related anecdotes Ulustrative
of her excellent husband's character, of his selE-
sacrificing spirit, and generosity to the slave and his
defender, and of his earnest devoted work for the
Government in raising black troops during the civil
war. He was one of the right men who bore up
Lincoln and Andrew by his sympathetic labors. In-
vaUd as Mrs. Stearns was at that time, she, like Anne
PhilUps in her relations to Wendell, was always the
devoted aid and support of her husband. " Leave
me if your duty to your coimtry calls you to this
separation." For a time Mr. S. was constantly in
consultation with, or an active worker for, Stanton,
the Secretary of War, and Lincoln, and for weeks at
a time was compelled to be absent on distant mis
sions. How, during the war, were people graduaUy
" tuned up " to deeds of bravery or of self-sacrifice,
utterly uncalled for in less stirring times !
Mr. and Mrs. Stearns were not laggards iu the
great work. But in aU that I have related, I have
not given the details of that for which I sought the
interview ; viz., the history of the John Brown bust
I had received from Anne PhUUps.
" Doctor," said Mrs. Stearns, " that bust is a per
fect likeness of John Brown as he appeared in
Charlestown jaU after his condemnation. Learning
his sentence, I immediately commissioned the sculp
tor Brackett to go and get permission, if possible, to
make a bust, and he has succeeded perfectly in giv-

REMINISCENCES OF JOHN BROWN 93
ing Brown's aspect. I ordered a copy made in
marble." (I had seen this when I first entered the
house ; it stands in the front entiy, and no visitor
can fail to see it.) " The cast you have I gave to
WendeU PhUlips."
Since the war I do not remember that my heart
has ever been so deeply touched as it was by the
simple narrative which I have attempted to write
out. As the widowed woman spoke of the noble
husband she had lost, and of his warm sympathy
vrith the downtrodden, and of the generous aid he
gave to the dead martyrs, her eyes at times were
fiUed with tears ; and in spite of aU my best efforts
to command myselE, I found that mine were not dry
as our interview closed and I took my leave.
In the pages of his numerous manuscripts (volume xii.,
Book I.) I found a newspaper article, taken from the
"Topeka Daily Capital" of November 14, 1889; and
although it was quoted verbatim in the " Boston Tran
script " just after the death of Mrs. Stearns, in the win
ter of 1901-1902, I have thought it weU to place it in the
Appendix, inasmuch as it gives such an interesting account
of the sculptor's visit to John Brown in his ceU just before
his execution.^
The foUowing extract is from a letter written to the
secretary of the Massachusetts Historical Society, the Eev.
George E. Ellis, in consequence of what my father con
sidered a great distortion of facts and libel upon the
character of John Brown, made by one of the members.
It was not in his nature to aUow such assertions, coming
^ Vide Appendix (c).

94 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
from such a source, to pass unnoticed, and he accordingly,
with characteristic ardor, proceeded to bring forth the
proofs of John Brown's real nobility of character. His
allusion to " Stonewall Jackson " is one of many similar
instances of my father's great admiratjon of the man who
won the respect of both friend and foe by his mAny noble
qualities. Accompanying his letter were photographs of the John
Brown pikes and the bowie knife previously mentioned.
In speaking of the proof of the nobility of John Brown's
character, he says, —
An autograph letter^ sent by Brown to his wife
twenty-four days before his execution — wondrously
beautiEul as it is — is a manifestation of the serenity
at the prospect of his execution, of his cahn judg
ment as to the movements of his wife, of his beUef
that his death would do more for the slave than he
had been able to accomplish " in all his life," and
of his deep and simple piety and submission to the
wiU of God. His affecting appeal to his friends to
be of good cheer, and to his famUy not to feel de
graded at his dying the death of a felon, — all these
characteristics of the missive make it a most fitting
culmination of the latter days of his active work,
and stiU more of the hours of his prison liEe, during
which he compeUed the jailor and his attendants,
and Governor Wise of Virginia, who signed his
death warrant, to respect his great soul. This letter
proved to my mind, at least, that John Brown could
never have been a common " midnight assassin,"
^ John Brown's last letter to his wife. Vide Appendix (d).

REMINISCENCES OF JOHN BROWN 95
although to the slavery-ridden mind of the North he
was readUy deemed a fanatic, grossly deceiving him-
seK (but not others) with a hope that the negro
slaves would flock in overwhelming numbers to his
standard, and armed with pikes would defend them
selves in the fastnesses of the mountains to which he
intended to lead them. Grant, if you please, that it
was " fanaticism " that guided his every-day life for
many years and which carried him onward through
his rash attack of Harper's Ferry, nevertheless that
fanaticism made him a hero in defense of the poor
downtrodden slave during Ufe and a martyr in the
world's eyes at his death. Mazzini, Victor Hugo,
and other patriots of Europe bear witness to his
mighty influence over aU struggles for liberty in
the Old World. Fanaticism Uke John Brown's
breathes in the stirring and immortal words of Pat
rick Henry, " Give me Uberty or give me death."
Doubtless the dear Christ appeared to aU save a few
faithful foUowers a fanatic of the highest type when
dying under the exquisite tortures of the cross, but
praying at the same moment for divine forgiveness
of his enemies. Would to God that we had more
of such fanaticism, for with it the world would be
better than we now sometimes think it !
The letter was given by John Brown's widow to
Mrs. George L. Stearns.^
I have thus, dear Dr. Ellis, laid before you these
reUcs, and have expressed my views relative thereto
1 Mrs. Steams gave it afterwards to Miss Clara T. Endicott of
Boston.

96 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
and relative to John Brown's character and acts. I
beg you to understand that I have brought them
to your notice and written my letter for the sole pur
pose of vindicating, as far as I can, before the Mas
sachusetts Historical Society, the fair fame of one of
the noblest of the men this country has brought
forth ; and as he was the first martyr of our civU
war, so had he Uved I believe he would have been
the " Stonewall Jackson " of our Northern Army,
fighting, and perhaps dying bravely, for Uberty.
Yours very truly, Henby I. Bowditch.
notes made upon the foeegoing lettee.
Note 2. Two of John Brown's pikes have been
in my possession for several years. They were given
to me by a friend to stand guard, as it were, on the
sides of a " Memorial Cabinet " erected to the mem
ory of the sons of Massachusetts, old and young,
from aU parts of the State, who sought death in
battle for Uberty and country during our civU war.
By the side of the John Brown pikes stand two
"boarding pikes" formerly belonging to Old Iron
sides, that invincible frigate (the Constitution of
1812). I deem the four most fitting decorations for
a monument dedicated to the valor and patriotism
of the old Bay State.
Note 4. Hearing that Mr. George T. Downing,
of Newport, R. I., had had an interview with Gov
ernor Wise some years after John Brown's execu
tion, and that the purport of that interview fuUy

REMINISCENCES OF JOHN BROWN 97
sustained what I have stated, I wrote to him and he
kindly answered as follows : — « May 27, 1887.
" Dbab and much respected Feiend, — In your
note you make reference to an interview I had with
the late Henry A. Wise of Virginia. My father
knew him ; they were young men together. He fre
quently caUed at my grandparents' homestead in
old ' Accomac' I called at his office when I visited
Richmond ; he greeted me warmly. Our conversa
tion turned on the hero of Harper's Ferry, John
Brown. He expressed deep regret at having been
compeUed to do as he did in that sad tragedy that
took from the world one of the noblest men who
ever trod the earth. The ex-governor extolled the
character, the tiuthfulness, and honesty in intent of
the martyr. He said it depressed him to think of the
part he had to take in depriving so good a man of
his liEe. I do not pretend to quote his words Uter-
ally, but this is the substance of what he said and
said freely. They had great effect upon me.
Yours truly, Geoege T. Downing."
Note 5. Von Hoist's estimate of John Brown's
character, his acts, etc. : " He (Brown) did not per
ceive that his undertaking could not have succeeded
at any time, but he did see that the failure of his
undertaking and the consequences of that faUure
achieved much greater results than its success could
have done."

98 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
Again (" Constitutional and Political History of
the United States," page 134) : " He gave the high
est proof a man can give of the genuineness of his
convictions ; for their sake he stakes his Ufe and
that of his chUdren vnthout the possibUity of any
selfish advantage." TO MES. STEAENS. Boston, January 12, 1888.
Deae Mes. Steaens, — When the " Transcript "
arrived, I was thinking of writing to you to teU of
the reception which my paper on John Brown has
met with from two or three persons, — lawyers and
literary and coUege friends. I knew I could speak
to you of the gratification I have felt that they
thought I had weU and " strongly " defended our old
hero. Of course I do not talk much about it, with
most persons, for it seems as if we had of late become
such devotees of pure science that many fools think
that liEe consists in delving with the microscope or
with chemistry into the elements of bodies, and aU
enthusiasm for nobUity of soul and self-sacrificing
action is crushed out of them or voted a " great bore."
And what wonder that it is so when men cannot be
Ueve in anything save ultimate " cells " infinitesimaUy
small, almost ethereal !
. . . While at Cambridge the other day I made a
caU upon the occupant of the room in Hollis which
I had during my Senior year, sixty years ago. It
seemed Uke old times. The old rafters and beams
were just as I saw them in my youth, but smoothed

REMINISCENCES OF JOHN BROWN 99
down by repeated coats of paint. The careless cuts
of a penknife used a halE a century since were to my
eyes covenants, reminding me of the so-caUed " hal
cyon days of youth," not one whit more delightful,
however, than has been my subsequent life at this
glorious epoch of the century, and during which,
" through the dear God's love," I have Uved and have
worked and at times have been " a part of " great
events. I do not think we generaUy appreciate what a
blessing this anti-slavery fight, culminating in the civU
war, has been to us. We have for half a century had
always at hand a "foeman worthy," in prowess at
least, " of our steel." How quickly boys grew up
into noble manhood in '61, '2, and '3 ! And how
sweet have been the memories of some of them, and
wUl remain so tUl the latest generation ! Though
dead they yet speak to us, trumpet-tongued messen
gers from their graves as they really are.
I received and read with great pleasure the John
Brown article. Very weU and aptly done I think.
When will the translation be ready? I sent a vol
ume a few days ago, of " Monographs " printed or
typed, which I have written at various times. Among
them is my John Brown paper. I am glad I " lis
tened to the spirit " which told me to defend him
from the conservatism of the Historical Association.
I rather think it wUl be my last work in life. I feel
myself getting old (seventy-nine and a half), and it
is time to think of resting. " WhUst I live I wiU
crow " if fate permits me.
Very sincerely yours, Heney I. Bowditch.

100 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
The foUowing letter was written to a friend with refer
ence to the possible publication of his paper sent to the
Massachusetts Historical Society : —

TO L. VBENON BEIGGS.
Jamaica Plain, July 12, 1887.
My Deae Veenon, — Before we go a step far
ther about the " Transcript " or any other printing,. I
must stop and consider. In fact, I have already con
sidered deeply ever since I let you have the manu
script, and I have decided that there is no vaUd
reason for printing my paper. It has already been
presented in a fair " type-printed " copy to the Massa
chusetts Historical Society. It is in their archives
I presume, although it is true that no one has ever
told me that it was received. It is true, however,
that I read the queer remarks made by  upon the
matter, as recorded in the " doings of the Society, on
a communication received from Dr. Henry I. Bow
ditch on John Brown."
I wrote the paper not for the purpose of praising
John Brown. He stands now before the world above
aU praise, as a martyr to Uberty ; and wherever or
whenever men may be hereafter fighting for liberty,
there his name wiU stand as their watchword. I
wrote the paper simply for the purpose of getting,
by the exhibition of the three great reUcs, an idea
into the minds of the Society somewhat different
from that left by Mr. Lawrence's remarks. The let
ter and the bowie knife, as they came before me
from Mrs. Stearns, and under the sparkUng influence

REMINISCENCES OF JOHN BROWN 101
of her enthusiasm for the " old hero," made me feel
that I must write it or be ashamed of myself for not
doing what I thought common justice to his mem
ory required of me then and there. But I have no
such feeling now, so therefore I must, after these
further thoughts, ask you to return the paper.
Perhaps, when I am dead, some dear friend like
you may Uke to see it ; or perchance some, feeling
Uke my brother Ingersoll, may cry out, " Oh ! burn
it all up. Don't keep any family papers to be
sneered at or condemned." Be it either way, at
present I want the manuscript returned.
Affectionately yours, Heney I. Bowditch.
The correspondence upon John Brown concludes with
the foUowing letter from Mrs. George L. Stearns : —
Evening of the 28th of October, 1889.
Your letter to-night, dear friend, " comforted my heart
within me." How I wish I could take you back to the
eventful year of 1856, and make you see the old frontiers
man as he sat in our parlor on Sunday, talking of the bor
der ruffians and the agonies of those Kansas pioneers, — of
the monster Slavery, which was fastening its demoniacal
teeth upon that infant colony. The hour for compromise
had gone by. Then and there the terrible scourge must be
met, and " thus far and no farther " proclaimed with no
uncertain sound. " Mr. Stearns " (I can hear him now,
and wish your ears heard the tone and your clear eyes
could behold the man as he said), "Mr. Stearns, it is
better that a whole generation of men, women, and chil
dren should be swept away than this prodigious injustice
of slavery should continue one day longer. I consider

102 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
the Declaration of Independence and the Golden Rule one
and inseparable." There was a magnetism in his person
ality that made you feel heroic, and as I came to know
him more I could easily have died with him on the scaffold.
How mean and sordid aU ordinary life seemed in his sub
lime presence ! No boaster — modest, self-contained, and of
rare dignity of mien. Something of the old " Ironsides " in
his compact, weU-knit figure ; and he might have stepped
out of the frame of some pictured CromweUian hero. Our
beautiful boy, Carl, not three years old, never forgot the
impression made upon him that day. The little feUow
stood as if transfixed in the middle of the room, never
taking his deep blue eyes from the man until his fixedness
of gaze and position arrested the attention of John Brown,
who, in the sweetest, most winning way, beckoned and in
vited him to sit on his knee and " he would tell him about
a little girl he had at home." Brackett has caught the
expression which was stamped into my memory on that
first interview and renewed and strengthened by every
subsequent one ; a moral grandeur which culminated in
that miserable prison at Charlestown. On his return
Brackett said to me, "Mrs. Stearns, you have never
seen John Brown. You can have no idea how he dwarfed
everybody in Virginia ; with what subUmity he sat in a
dingy room, chained with ox chains to the floor ! ! ! " That
look must make the informing life of the statue. I did
not mean to write all this, but the theme stirs me deeply.
It takes me back to the heroic past of a deep and intense
life. Yes, you are at liberty to make what use of my
hurried letter you please.
M. E. S.

CHAPTER XXII
TEIP ABEOAD in 1867 — EEMINISCENCBS OF MADAME
LA PLACE AND GAEIBALDI
DuEiNG the years from 1866 to 1870 my father decided,
from motives of economy and other reasons, to live for
the greater part of the time at Milton HiU. This was
the beginning of a series of delightful associations and
friendships for the whole famUy.
During the first summer he selected the old house which
was built by the treasurer of George III., a picturesque
specimen of colonial architecture, which has unfortunately
gone the way of too many simUar buildings, and is now
replaced by a modem structure.
There was a legend about the old house that the former
lady of the manor was so beloved by the poor people of
the district that the wayfarer preferred to sleep on her
doorstep than in the almshouse. Whether true or not,
the legend threw a glamour of romance about the place
and added to its charm.
It was during this summer that my father and mother
made a visit to Naushon, the beautiful island in Buzzard's
Bay belonging to Mr. John M. Forbes, aUuded to in a
previous chapter. Unfortunately, very little of the cor
respondence between the friends exists, only one or two
letters written to Mr, Forbes by my father having come
to light.
In consequence of Ul health, largely due to overwork,
my father was obliged to go abroad in the early summer
of 1867, while we were at Milton HiU.

104 HENBY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
The entire rest and change produced the desired result,
and in a few months he returned refreshed and invig
orated. His journal letters to my mother and sister during these
periods are replete with interest. Even when taking his
vacation he was not idle, bat always seeking whatever
would prove to be of service to him or his work in after
years. He was a voluminous letter writer, recording aU
his sensations in his various experiences, so that the perusal
of his letters was often a matter of hours and not of min
utes. It was his custom always in traveling to take short
notes of his experiences, and elaborate them later in his
Journal. Among the most interesting of his numerous letters are
those containing recoUections of his visits when a student
in Paris to Madame La Place, the account of which he
often used to read to his friends in after years, and of his
first glimpse of Garibaldi, for whom he had always felt
the most intense admiration. TO HIS WIPE. At Sea, July 22, 1867.
... I forgot to mention a very interesting man
who left us at Halifax ; viz., Cyrus W. Field, of
Atlantic telegraph fame. He is a very gentlemanly,
quiet person, though evidently of an active, bright
inteUect. I said to him when introduced: "You
must feel, sir, a great satisfaction in the entire suc
cess that you have met with, and this, too, after the
many rebuffs and misfortunes that have occurred,
and, above all, that you have forced all skeptics
to beUeve in the feasibUity of your plans." He
smiled quietly, and, without the least apparent

. -// y-y

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 105
'' pluming" of himself on his vast success, simply
said : " I suppose every one feels gratified in suc
ceeding in whatever he undertakes." I have in my
mind's eye a certain gentleman in Boston who, if
the same remark had been made to him, would have
given me a dissertation upon the exalted fame to
which by his efforts he had risen, and, altogether,
would have made a self-complacent ass of himself.
Field had nothing of that, but was of a cordial,
friendly nature, determined on success, and, satisfied
with that success, claimed no praise. He told me
that Mr. Seward paid in advance f 19,000 in gold
for his dispatch to Mr. Bigelow at Paris relative to
the French leaving Mexico, and that the Austrian
minister paid $7000 for a dispatch relating to
MaximUian ! ! He described to Epes and me the
exact situation of " Heart's Content." He said he
was in an EngUsh ship cruising along the coast of
Newfoundland in search of a place proper for the
terminus of the cable, and in the centre of the large
Trinity Bay he found embosomed in hills, and with
a beautiful sandy bottom, a deep harbor capable of
easUy receiving seven or eight men-of-war at safe
anchorage. Not a rock was to be found in it. It
was a pretty place, and caUed, by the few inhabitants
of that region, " Heart's Content," and situated
about midway between two other places caUed
"Heart's Ease" and "Heart's DeUght." Here he
determined to drop his cable. The attaches of the
cable made a smaU colony and were under a strict
military discipUne. The cable is constantly watched.

106 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
day and night, with relays of men, but they have
not one third of their time occupied. He hopes to
reduce the tariff so that more business and more
money may flow in, but is not, of course, certain of
gaining his end. He told us they were a month
dragging for the end of last year's rope, and this
to a depth of two miles ! ! How wonderful it seems
that they should ever have found it ! Yet he seemed
to make but Ught of it, "because," said he, "we
knew the direction in whieh it lay, and we had only
to drag, when the weather was smooth enough, at
right angles to that direction."
To show the entire certainty, a sort of inspiration
that he had of success when he started from Valen
cia, in Ireland, when about to lay down the second
cable, I wUl teU the following fact, which I learned
from another than himselE. He engaged an artist to
go, with the understanding that he was to paint four
or five separate scenes ; viz., first, " The Start from
Valencia ; " second, " The Arrival of the Cable at
' Heart's Content ' ; " third, " The Picking up of
Last Year's Broken Cable ; " fourth, " The Splicing
of it," and, I thmk, fifth, " The Fmal Arrival of
the Whole Party at 'Heart's Content.' " The artist
smiled incredulously at the proposed paintings, and
said he doubted whether anything more than the
first would be accompUshed. Mr. Field merely re
pUed : " Never mind that. I ask you what you wiU
charge to go and paint those transactions, which
wiU take place." Accordingly the artist went, and
Field has the originals at his house in New York.

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 107
I like that persistent faith. It was Uke George
Stephenson with the locomotive ; Ericsson in his
works ; in fact, it is the inspiration of any noble
mind in any department of science or art.

London, August 10, 1867.
I am sadly behindhand in my Journal. We called,
after losing ourselves two or three times, upon
Mr. Adams, our minister to St. James's Court. He
received us very kindly, and afterwards returned our
caU. We asked him for a permit, if he could get
it, to the House of Lords. He could do nothing,
and as Epes said that the chief thing he wanted to
see and hear in London was the leaders of the Par
Uament, we determined by advice of Mr. Adams's
son to try the " golden key." It was omnipotent,
and Epes, ia his joy, after I had given halE a crown,
threw away another in his enthusiasm, whereat I
doubt not the police thought " How jolly green the
Yankees are ! " We were admitted to a gaUery with
a raUing so high that it was difficult to see over it
without bending forward ; then the seats were rather
hard, with no backs. We heard Lord Derby, Lord
Kimberley, Duke of Cleveland, Lord Grenville, and
Fortescue, and Lord Gray. The subject of discus
sion was the new Reform BUl. It was amusing to
us to see these English lords evidently frightened at
the idea of trusting the people with any more power,
and using language which would never be thought
of by any American. We have learned the lesson

108 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
of democracy thoroughly, and aU these fears ex
pressed by the lords we know to be mere shadows
of their imagination. But you know my belief is
that nine tenths of this world's evils arise from
imagining occurrences are about to happen which,
after all, do not happen. So these EngUsh lords are
worrying themselves, — Marthas in pantaloons and
wigs. . . .
In criticism of some cynical statement which he had
come across, to the effect that no one can honestly feel
emotion when in the dweUing-place or at the grave of
some distinguished character, he writes as foUows : —
Surely I never was more interested in anything
than I was in first visiting the library in which Scott
wrote " Ivanhoe." Never was I more in love with
my work than when, on foot, I sought out every
nook and corner made famous by Burns. The grave
of Highland Mary, made sacred solely by Burns's
holy love for the young highland lassie, was to me
as interesting as Switzerland. But I labored as hard
to see and enjoy as much in one as in the other
spot. One spot brought out aU the finer emotions
of the heart, and I loved it because the forms lying
under that sod at Greenock had really given to me
through the Scotch bard nobler ideas of what a pure
manly love ought to be than aU the classics or any
of the moderns I had studied. I beUeve a young
man who has any soul would feel as I did by High
land Mary's grave ; whUe I trust the same soul
would bow in reverence with Coleridge at the foot
of Mont Blanc. . . .

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 109
In the church (at Berne) is the gorgeous tomb of
Bartholdi, the founder of the city, and in an adja
cent recess were several tablets containing, in let
ters of gold, on black marble, the names of eighteen
officers and six hundred men who fell fighting " fiir
das Vaterland im Ungliicksjahr 1798." I stood be
side them, and my eyes filled, for I thought of the
dead young soldier who, too, feU for the dear father
land, who now sleeps at Mount Auburn. Darling
chUd, how thy image seems ever near me ! The
smaUest incident reveals it to me once again, as
brave and beautiEul and young you left us to go
to ReadvUle, and as you came back to us from
KeUy's Ford. What a blank, yet what a treasure
of sweet memories have you left in your fond father's
heart ! I turned away in sadness from the sight, for
I thought that possibly each one of these youths had
left in each home Uke tieasured memories. ... As
Berne was the place where Fabricius Hildanus went
about the first part of the seventeenth century, and
held a high rank there as the chosen physician of
the place ; as all the sovereigns of Europe showered
favors upon him ; and as he Uved to advanced age
and died in Berne fuU of honors, and undoubtedly
the first surgeon in Continental Europe, the real
Uneal (by right of mind and of works done) descend
ant of the great Pare, I thought I woiUd Uke to see
whether any memory of him stiU remained anywhere
among the streets and Ubraries that he once honored
by his presence. I asked my landlord and a per
son at the hospital adjacent to the hotel, and finaUy

110 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
I went to the Ubrary to see iE I could get any token
of his former existence. Nowhere, save at the
Ubrary, did I find anything, and even that showed
how Uttle reverence remained for him after about
two and a half centuries. In this latter place, after
a good deal of searching, I saw some smaU, hand
somely bound, gUt-edge editions of particular works ;
but the great foUo volume, his " Opera Chirurgica
Omnia," though on the catalogue, was gone — lost,
apparently, for the custodian could tell nothing about
it. " Sic tiansit gloria mundi." Here was a man
that aU the world delighted to honor for his great
work as a man and writer, the " Father of German
Surgery," who doubtless thought and dreamed of
an immortal thing ; and yet he is, in two hundred
and fifty years, whoUy forgotten in his home by
adoption, and which became such by the votes of
the authorities of Berne ! George Von Olnhausen,
the young student in 1626, traveled out of his way
to visit Berne, apparently solely to get his autograph.
Now nobody in Berne seems to remember or to care
a fig that he ever lived. How absurd, th§n, seems
aU striving after fame when we see such things !
This Ubrary, whose alcoves appear to have come
from a past century, so low and crowded are they
with old, old looking, dusty volumes, contain some
fine things. A most noble bust of HaUer greets
the eye on first entering ; a grand, massive, inteUec
tual looking head, — a head that demands instant
respect as a noble representative of my profession.
It is grateful to see him standing thus in the foremost

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 111
place in the Ubrary, and especiaUy grateful after find
ing the utter neglect into which Fabricius had fallen.

Sunday Evening, September 6, 1867.
... I stopped short my narration because I found
that the time has sUpped by at which I had deter
mined to caU on the Lawrences previous to join
ing the Genevese crowd that was about to receive
Garibaldi. I knew yesterday that he was expected
to-day as a delegate to the International Peace Con
gress. As an American, and as a man, I wanted to do
honor to him whom I have long deemed the manliest
man of the world at the present hour ; one who,
though now Uving, I feel, when dead, wiU be placed
among the noblest of the brave and honest souls
who, by their actions, have elevated the standard of
human exceUence; one worthy to stand the peer
of aU the brave knights of olden and of the men of
modern times, Godefroy de BouUlon, Bayard " sans
peur et sans reproche," John Hampden, the noble
Sidney, Marceau, the fearless, " falling for France
whose rights he battled to resume, " or, last though
not least, the " beautiEul young martyr," Shaw. All
these and such as these who have made their mark
in history, aU wUl greet the noble Italian as a brother
beloved when he, Uke them, shaU be gathered to his
fathers. How could I give up the opportunity of
showing respect to such a noble Uving representative
of the human race ! Therefore if in anything I tell
you I did or left undone this afternoon, which seems

112 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
to you to border on the " romantesque " or the ridic
ulous, pray put it down to the " rash spirit that my
father gave me," who in former days was seen, as I
was this day, with hat off, and his scanty white locks
blowing in the breeze, shouting louder than aU be
side him when Lafayette passed through Boston some
forty or fifty years ago.
The train was to arrive at 5.30 p. m. The crowd
began to coUect long before that time in front of
the hotel where the Peace Committee held their meet
ings, and where Garibaldi was to be during his stay
at Geneva. Banners had been floating aU day from
the beautiful buUdings near the quays on both sides
of the Rhone and on the bridges. I could overlook
the whole from my window. About a quarter before
five I saUied out to mingle with the gathering crowd.
WhUe near Garibaldi's headquarters the procession
of citizens passed. It was Uke an American one.
Many young and different trades appeared. The
jewelers were out in great numbers. A musical
society was there. Its two leaders, fine looking,
manly youths, had slung over their backs, like huge
hunting horns, great drinking horns, from whieh, on
festive occasions, the whole club in turn drink. It
is to them the " loving cup." AU the societies
bore banners, and the national flag of the confed
eration was among them. Many of the crowd wore
red and white and green ribbons. The crowd was
peculiar, more mixed and more good-natured and
more reasonable than any crowd I was ever in be
fore, and yet I never was more hotly pressed than

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 113
at times after Garibaldi came in sight. In it I saw
perfect pictures of the inteUigent, well-dressed gen
tlemen, some very sweet looking and simply dressed
girls, evidently not of the basse classe. With them
I saw all others of both men, women, and children
of the smaUest sizes, from the gentleman and lady
down to the simple blouses of the common work
man. They stood there united as one people. There
seemed, what was strange to me, to be no police,
and the last moment before Garibaldi arrived I saw
Uttle chUdren mingUng with the " big bugs " at the
head of the procession. Everywhere there was gen
tleness and gentlemanUness, very different from the
brusque, rough manners of an American crowd. AU
this I observed, when waiting near the station, but it
was especiaUy observable as the crowd rushed along.
AU that I saw seemed good-natured and forbearing.
The natural poUteness of the people saved them
from roughness, even when roughness seemed almost
impossible to be avoided. I had curious adventures
enough. My blood tingled, and my heart thumped
when the first shouts broke upon my ear. " What 's
the difference between youth and age ? " I thought.
" Does n't your blood thrUl in your veins as much
as when you were a youth ? " I said to myself, as
I pressed forward to get as near as I could to the
wheels of the carriage, and caught the first glimpse
of that grand soul. I instantly bowed before it.
I could see then how Garibaldi was able to govern
men. He is the handsomest man I almost ever saw.
The women, I should think, would go frantic at

114 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
seeing him. If I were a young man I would foUow
him to the death. Why so ? Look at him standing
up in the carriage ; and remembering his grand brav
ery, his selE-sacrificing heart, his simplicity in life,
his devotion to his country and to universal Uberty ;
remembering, too, how his name is a watchword in
Italy, and that to the whole world even it is an
emblem of aU that is noble and brave in human na
ture ; with these thoughts I say, look at him him
self in person as he stands before you. The first
thought is, how magnificent his head in its round,
full development ! How lofty his brow ! Erect, and
Uke the Apollo's, full of inteUect ; yet how benig
nant and kindly his smUing, modest blue eye ! How
Uttle of the warrior, and how great the real good
ness and openness of his face ! Would not you feel
sure of the friendship of such a man ? Could you
not single him out among a host of other common
men as one to whom you would open your heart, feel
ing sure of sympathy and honest counsels, and good
wise advice also, for such a brow always carries with
it the idea of calm wisdom ? Do not think me ovei^
enthusiastic. Everybody said, "How handsome, how
good he looks, how benignant his smile ! " The
moment he appeared was the signal for me to off
with the old " felt," and, swinging it high in the
air, I sung out a loud and long hurrah, or rather
roar, for I did not exactly know how the Genevese
indicated their enthusiasm. I could not have helped
doing so any more than I could have helped breath
ing. It was human nature in me, and human nature

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 115
responded, and my next neighbor shouted, and the
procession started. I continued shouting, and doubt
less caused some merriment to some of the young
rogues about me ; nevertheless, they joined, not ir
reverently, but I coiUd see by the twinkle of their
eyes that they were immensely tickled, and glad to
have an old fellow Uke myself to set them an exam
ple they were glad to follow, as the roar ran along
the Une. We aU roared, and threw up our hats and
laughed together, and pushed along. We met wo
men and girls and boys and men, the whole crowd
kept shouting, and there was a waving of handker
chiefs from every window ; and amid this chaos of
human voices Garibaldi continued the same gentle,
pleased, yet quiet look. At times bouquets and
flowers were showered upon him from the windows
on each side. (Nine and a half P. m. A beautiful
band is now serenading him. I hear them from the
other side of the Rhone.) At times I had curious
adventures. I saw a mother vainly endeavoring to
hold up a Uttle girl about eight or ten years old, but
the crowd pressed, and she had not strength enough.
"As-tu VU Garibaldi, ma chere?" I said to the
Uttle girl. " Non, Monsieur," she repUed wdth a
disconsolate look. " Gedacht, gethan." I seized
her Uttle legs immediately in my arms, as if she had
been my sweet " Uttle Le " at her age, and raised
her Uttle head far above the surging crowd, so that
she got a fair sight of, and I believe waved her wel
come to, the great warrior and man. " Merci, merci.
Monsieur," smUingly said the mother, as I put the

116 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
chUd down, and again taking off my hat roared
and rushed along with the crowd. Another time
I helped a poor little boy, who was getting rather
frightened in the squeeze, to get fairly astride his
elder brother's manly shoulders, much to the con
tentment of both. I kept as near the carriage as
I could, aU the whUe doing my best by example
to keep up the cheers, which were continuous until
we arrived at the hotel; and there the crush was
fearful. My man, who began to shout with me at
the station, was by my side there, stiU heartUy sym
pathizing. Once during the course I caught, I am
sure. Garibaldi's eye, as I called out lustily, " Viva,
Garibaldi ! " He smUed such a smUe as I have not
seen since I got those friendly looks from the " dear
young soldier," Shaw, during his ovation in Boston
at the head of his black regiment. I shall put the
two in the recesses of my heart as two of my trea
sured memories. But everything must have an end.
Garibaldi was at length fairly in the hotel. But
the crowd would not disperse. On the contrary, it
squeezed harder than ever. He appeared on a
balcony. For five or ten minutes shouts rent the
air, and nothing could be heard. One man with
him vainly endeavored by dumb show to impose
silence over the dense crowd below. At length he
began, and before long I was able to hear something,
but vaguely and in broken sentences. He said one
thing, i. e., that he was for peace among aU the free
people of the world ; but I think he indicated that
until people were free he hoped that there would

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 117
be some able and wiUing to march with the carbine
with him. But perhaps to-morrow I wiU send printed
his few remarks. I forgot one or two things that
I must teU you : his form is grandly massive ; he looks
as if he combined the strength of a Hercules with
the grace of an Apollo ; his pecuUar dress is beau
tifully appropriate and graceful, — a red flannel
undershirt, seen about the collar and on the arms,
weU made and rather flowing in its fullness, while a
"poncho" of white striped with black falls down over
his back and front and partly covers the shoulders
and arms. The dress is exceedingly handsome, and
would be so for any manly looking person, as far
more beautiEul than any modern dress as the Roman
toga is more graceful than a Shaker's coat. Then,
too, with aU its grace, you see its evident utUity.
He can throw himself into that with the rapidity of
Ughtning, and be able to shoot down a half a dozen
opponents while one of our modern chevaUers is
tying on his paper coUar ; so here a truly useful thing
becomes synonymous, as it should oftener be in the
management of this world's affairs, with the tiuly
beautiEul. If men would but always unite utility
with grace, how much more deUghtful, and really
useful, would be our Uves. And so ends the first
scene of Garibaldi's sojourn at Geneva. He wUl be
here a week. Perhaps I may see him and touch his
hand. That wUl be, indeed, a real pleasure, would
it not? . . . (The Genevese seem beside them
selves. They are roaring now at Garibaldi's hotel,
at eleven and a half p. m.) Good-night.

118 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH Zermatt, August, 1867.
. . . On my return to the hotel, after arranging
my Alpine stock and writing a few notes, I stroUed
out behind the house. Epes and Fisher were trying
to sketch the Matterhorn. They were at a stone
table intended for travelers at times to take their
lunches at. It was a splendid sight, where one could
feast his eyes constantly with a view of the Matter-
horn. I was just preparing to sit down with them,
when the letters " N. B.," strongly cut into the seat,
made me almost start ; and they brought out such a
flood of sweet and bitter thought that I could say no
thing, but could almost have wept. I kept my counte
nance, however, and as my two companions were busUy
occupied with their work and did not notice me or
the initials, neither they nor I said anything, but I
soon after wrote as foUows : " The memorial left
by an unknown sti'anger youth has unlocked all the
sweet and sad thoughts I have garnered in my heart
about the ' dear young soldier.' Epes and the doc
tor are writing ; the roar of the distant subglacial cat
aracts, and an occasional voice from the hotel, alone
break in upon my thoughts, whUe the glorious scene
around, above, and below me all seem alike to halo
his haUowed memory, and harmonize with the plea
sant thoughts, both of him and of aU the dear ones
at home, that come up unbidden from my heart."
The sunset was magnificent, and the evening
grand and solemn, as the darkness covered over aU
and shut out peak after peak from our view. It was
with a degree of solemn feeluig that we watched the

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 119
various tops of Monte Rosa, etc., gradually losing
the rays of the setting sun and subsiding into utter
nightfaU, when snowy tips and black-ribbed sides
were aU submerged in one common impenetrable
shadow. About six we dined, and such a clatter of
tongues of women and men, all telling of passes and
glaciers and ascents and snowstorms, I never heard !
Nothing else was the staple of conversation. We
were above aU humanity in its daUy labors and
trials. Garibaldi and the Pope, and Prussia and
France, — who cared for them at the Riffel ? We
were aU drunk with what Byron caUs the "feel
ing " of mountains. Men and women stood equal,
provided only they could equally tramp over snow-
fields and glaciers. Whether it was this conversa
tion or the perfect mountain air which seemed to
stimulate every fibre in us, and which we drank in
long draughts as we would Bavarian ale, I know not ;
but after aU was over we stroUed out again, and in
the darkness saw only vaguely the Matterhorn rising
in the western sky, mightUy lessened in apparent
size, and aU the rest of the peaks one uniEorm black
mass. The very spirit of fun and froUc entered into
us, and I proposed that as they probably thought
that as Americans we were simply Indians civUized,
we should give the visitors at the hotel an idea of
the Indian war dance and whoop. With that I
began to caper and to twist myself into fantastic
shapes, as I saw the Western Indians in Buffalo thus
dance on our Common, and occasionally I screamed
aloud an unearthly whoop. Epes and Fisher caught

120 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
the contagion, and we three danced " like mad "
about the table, and Fisher at one time was on it
pirouetting on one leg. We roared and laughed
and danced tUl I was fairly " blown," and untU I
reaUy thought we should bring some of the boarders
or attaches of the inn to see what, indeed, was the
matter. I do not know when I have laughed more
heartily, and I rather think that Epes and F. wUl
never forget the scene. Monetier, September 7, 1867.
Our company at the hotel has become interesting
in some particulars. A very pleasant lavyyer and
wife and family of some four or five chUdren were
next to me at table. I discussed America, etc., with
them. Just before I left [I talked with] a very
opinionated EngUshwoman, one who asked about
what dinners one could get at one hotel and another,
and who asked also iE Garibaldi was the " only one "
who was to be present at the Peace Congress, and
whether some of the nobUity, Prince Napoleon for
example, were not going to be there. I felt as iE her
words ought to choke her. Just as iE there could
be any nobler man than Garibaldi. However, this
worthy woman did appreciate art; hence I showed
her some of my Albert Diirer and HaUer photo
graphs. She appreciated them much better than an
American family in the South, who had a pretty but
weak-looking daughter, evidently dying of consump
tion. These worthies pawed over my sheep to see
if they felt as woolly as they looked, and stuck their

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 121
fingers on Albert Durer's grand human faces in a
way that made my blood run cold. The weak Uttle
daughter said, " Let me see, I am going to Rome
this winter. Do they speak ItaUan there ? " And
to my quiet responsive " Yes," " WeU, then, I must
study the Italian." Heavens, what representatives of
the culture of an American famUy ! Another Ameri
can, a Bostonian, traveling with his wiEe and daughter,
remarked to Epes in a Ustless manner, about travel
ing in Switzerland, that for his part he " did not
think much of going up these hills in a vigilance."
Whew ! put this party beside an Oxford graduate
from BaUol or Trinity, the English scholar or simple
gentleman, and what a figure such people cut ! I
took leave of aU, much to the chagrin of my land
lord, who evidently thought we were booked for two
or three weeks.
On Monday, September 9, Epes and I, by a piece
of good luck, were enabled to meet and shake hands
with Garibaldi. Early in the morning we had caUed
on our consul, in order to hear if it would be pos
sible for us, with other Americans, to see him, to
express the sympathy we felt in his cause of Ital
ian unity. By means of the energetic influence
of our consul at Nice, Judge Aldis, we were intro
duced to his room whUe he was speaking with a
deputation of Freemasons. He spoke very freely
and fluently in French to them, and told them he
hoped for their moral support ; and bidding them
good-by, he shook hands with and kissed each dele-

122 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
gate on both cheeks. Immediately afterwards we
were introduced. I shook hands and told him that
I was glad, as an American, to be able to do so, and
to express my sympathy with his noble cause, and I
hoped that God would bless it. He answered very
cordiaUy, and with the sweetest of smUes thanked
me for my good wishes. I do not know when I ever
enjoyed such a pleasure, mingled with pain, for I
felt that very possibly he would, ere long, become a
victim. In the afternoon we went to the Peace Congress.
It was a queer place to see Garibaldi, and yet, ac
cording to his own principles, he might readUy be
there ; for he went for peace between nations, but for
war to the hUt against tyrants. The meeting was
held in the Electoral HaU. An immense democratic
looking buUding, with uncushioned boards as seats.
Over the tribune were arranged flags of various na
tions, surmounting the word " Pax." The Hymn of
Peace was brought out by a large choir and or
chestra, but I could not get interested in it. The
entrance of Garibaldi was the signal for another
ovation for the great ItaUan. The General was
made President (honorary) of the Convention, and
sat conspicuously on the platform. We saw and
heard enough to convince us that the so-caUed Peace
Convention was far from peaceful within its own
borders. Every man who spoke seemed fiery, and
often the arms of his audience were thrown toward
him in the most threatening way. I was reminded
of the engraving of the celebrated " Jeu de Paume "

TRIP ABROAD m 1867 123
of the first French Revolution, when Royalty and
Democracy first clashed and closed for the deadly
contest that subsequently shook France and Europe
to its centre.
As we were uncomfortably seated, and could un
derstand but Uttle, we wedged ourselves to the out
side ring of the crowd, after Garibaldi had made a
few remarks and presented a programme of his own.
One little fact, Ulustrative of French fears about the
convention, I wUl mention. Several days later I
subscribed for the ^roces verbal of the whole week's
work. Unfortunately, two numbers were not pub
Ushed when I left, but I paid beforehand for them
and for the stamps requisite to send them to Paris.
They never came, and on inquiry I learned that all
such were stopped on the frontier of France. A
second copy met the same fate.

Lake Geneva.
. . . My young guide interested me very much.
He had a beautiful, nut-brown face, with open, hon
est eyes, and evidently a merry heart. He told me
some things worthy of remembrance. He had been
weU educated in one of the public schools of the
canton. He said that every boy was obliged to
attend school untU he was sixteen, unless a good
excuse was given, or pay a fine for the neglect. He
himselE was allowed, as the son of a widow, to leave
at an earlier period, because he was needed for the
support of the famUy. Here is a repubUc which,

124 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
knowing weU that no republic can exist with igno
rance, compels every chUd to be educated, as an act,
on its own part, of pure self-defense. Let America
learn from her sister and smaUer repubUcs a good
lesson. I do not know when I have seen a youth
who proved, by his whole deportment, the value of
such a rule. . . . On our return to the shore we saw
several boats had started since our departure. One,
at a distance of about a mUe from off our course,
was a smaU skiff, rowed by a gentleman in front, and
bearing a lady at the stern. Behind her was waving
the dear flag of America. How my heart leaped up
at the sight ; for is not the flag doubly dear to aU
Americans since our young men went out to battle
under its ample folds ? I think I never loved it half
so much as since it was the paU that covered the
coffin of the " dear young soldier." I gave orders
to my guide to turn directly at right angles to our
true course, and we steered so as to run directly
across the bow of the stranger's skiff, but toward
which I was drawn by a feeUng that I knew would
be reciprocated by its occupants. Under the stars
and stripes, surely, no treason or rebelUon lurked.
Swiftly we approached, but instead of running across
the bow, I turned our path so as to run about four
or five rods off but alongside of the other that was
approaching. When within haU, and my bows were
just abreast of the flag, I arose, and taking off my
hat said aloud, " I salute the flag of my country."
The lady bowed gracefully, and smiled in recogni
tion of the compliment, and the gentleman replied.

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 125
" Thanks, sir, it has gone with us aU over Europe ; "
and we shot past each other, unknowing and un
known, and yet bound to each other by the mystic
sympathy of love for a common country that has
suffered, and has, by suffering, become nobler.
Our route to Paris, much to my disgust, as I
found afterwards, ran through parts of the country
teeming, as aU these places do, with memories of
great men and great deeds. We whisked through
the Jura not far from the black castle of Joux,
where Toussaint Louverture slowly died from dis
ease after confinement in the damp dungeons in
which the infamous Napoleon Bonaparte confined
him, and by turning from our route only sixty mUes
(a mere bagateUe when traveUng by thousands) we
could have come upon the sacred spot, the last rest
ing place of ChevaUer Bayard sans peur et sans re
proche. To be inspired by seeing any spot aUied
to such a man was weU worth a day at least, and yet
we raced by with American speed and lost the golden
opportunity of drinking perhaps sweet draughts of
honor, bravery, simpUcity, frankness, and humanity
by the side of Bayard's monument at Grenoble. I
only hope some one of my descendants wiU redeem
the error, and by meditation not only by the tomb,
but ever after upon the varied virtues of that noble
soul, engraft more and more of the sweet, religious,
and brave character on our own race.

126 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
Paris, September 17, 1867.
Laid up with a swelled face. Miserable enough,
and doubtless blue enough. Relieved by abscess
forming, but not before I was pulled down a peg too
low for my own or for Epes's (dear soul !) comfort.
On Thursday crawled out and visited the wards of
La Pitie, the scenes of my youth. Went partially
through the Jardin des Plantes. Left Epes there
and slowly retraced my steps over the haUowed
ground of the Rue d'Orleans (now Rue d'Auben-
ton). Touched the old gate handle of " No. 1 bis,"
and then kissed my hand that had so touched what
formerly had been moved by my sweet " Le " when
a "virgin fair and fancy free." Passing up, I
turned into the old street leading to Ste. Pelagic,
and was reminded of a scene, ludicrous enough, that
happened when I Uved as a student at Hotel de
rOdeon. I had seized a lung that I wanted to examine
more carefully, and had placed it in my hat to carry
it home more successfully than I could otherwise.
Bolt upright I approached the sentinel in front of the
Prison, balancing my sugar loaf as well as I could
on top of my head, when suddenly I felt Uquid trick-
Ung down my cheeks. Putting my hand up, I found
it was blood. Fortunately, I was able to hurry by
the place, and then uncovering, placed my burden
in a safer position than before. AU this came up
vividly before me, and involuntarily, as I approached
the door of the Prison, I walked more erect and
passed the guard with looks of suspicion similar to
those I had had more than thirty years before.

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 127
After revisiting " Pere la Chaise " and the tomb of
Madame La Place, he thus recaUs his former life in
Paris : —
... I stood again by the side of La Place's tomb.
The workmen were repairing it, and had evidently
only a short time before inserted a slab containing
the names and ages of the two vpives of the great
man. The first wife Uved only twenty-one years,
having been born in 1792 and died in 1813.
The name of the second was Marie Anne Char
lotte de Conchy, Marquise de La Place, nee a Be-
sangon, 8 Oct., 1769. Decedee a Paris 20me Jul.,
1862. She was twenty years the junior of her husband,
and from all that I saw of her at my various visits
she was worthy of him. The desire I have to recaU
the exceUent quaUties of this lady induces me to
weave into the pages of this Journal all that I can
remember of my intercourse with her, which, now
that she is dead, I regret was in reality so small
in comparison with what I might have had if I had
not been oppressed so much with a mauvaise honte
while in Paris during my earUer days of student
life ; and if, moreover, I had been wiUing to aUow
a Uttle time to be given from medicine to the culti
vation of Madame La Place's amiable society, and to
mingle in the brilliant coteries in which she moved
at the time of my first visit to Europe. The story
runs as foUows : —
In 1832, three weeks after leaving Boston, and
in fact quitting the guardian care of my dear mother.

128 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
a perfect ignoramus in the polite liEe of the world
into which I was entering, I stood in Paris alone. I
had no letters and knew scarcely any one but James
Jackson, that most admirable son of our weU-known
and beloved Dr. Jackson of that day. But I had
one book that I was ordered to leave forthwith with
Madame La Place. It was the second volume of the
" Translation of the Mecanique Celeste." Seeking
within two weeks after arrival the Boulevard des
Capucines, Madame La Place's residence, I gave the
book into the hand of the porter, with my address,
and retired to the Quartier Latin, Hotel de I'Odeon.
I immediately received a very cordial response and
an invitation to dine at Madame's country seat at
Arcueil. Knowing only American French, having
been able to communicate with the patients in the
hospital only by " dumb show " or by previously
studying up my questions, I was thunderstruck at
the thought of dining out in French society. So I
repUed that I begged to be excused and that a " pre
vious engagement " — which was only that I had gone
to Paris to study medicine and not to dine out —
would prevent my acceptance of the poUte invitation.
Madame was too admirable a tactician to aUow of
any such excuse, but she read my heart when she
invited the American consul to go with me, and I
was assured that I should meet some, at least, who
spoke my mother tongue. Accordingly, less than
three weeks after my arrival at the gay capital, I
accepted the invitation and consulted with the con
sul as to how I ought to go to ArcueU. He advised

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 129
wisely that I should take a cabriolet, but that was
to cost much more than to go en voiture. Alas !
here was my first evidence of " greenness." This
voiture and this drive I shall never forget. The
carriage was a rickety, lumbering, old covered cart
resting on a hard axle and rolling without springs on
two wheels. My heart sank when I ensconced myself
on the front seat with the driver, while a jolly fat hus
band and wiEe were squeezed in upon the back bench.
The harness was half made up of rope, and the
horses looked uncurried. Altogether it was an equi
page far from fit for a young man on his way to dine
at the country seat of one of the nobility ! I com
forted myselE, however, with the thought that I could
get down at the vUlage and walk to the place. We
had a ludicrous scene at one little vUlage through
which we passed, which I well remember. The wor
thy couple behind me were of the most jovial, chatty
kind ; evidently well-to-do peasants, and happy and
easy in every-day liEe. Though I understood not a
word of their talk, I became quite amused at what was
to me a jolly French pantomime. In front of a hotel
of a vUlage the conductor got off his seat, and I, in
order to stretch my legs, did the same, when presto !
up went the shafts and back went our heavy couple,
with their legs stretched in the air, sprawling on
their backs inside of the vehicle. The screams of
distress that arose inside were mingled with bois
terous laughter outside and sudden threatenings of
choking the poor beast confined in the shafts, and
who was dragged up by the collar around his neck.

130 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
This ludicrous condition of things lasted, of course,
but a very few moments, ere the crowd came to
the rescue of man and beast. The merry old
couple were philosophers enough to aUow others to
laugh, even at themselves, provided only that real
laughter should be in the order of their day.
After lumbering slowly along, and making me fear
that I, " the chief object of interest," would be late
to dinner, the carriage at length arrived at ArcueU.
I walked to the chateau. I remember but Uttle
about the place, save that it was a large, weU-buUt,
gentleman's house, surrounded by the usual high,
whitened brick wall. I remember being introduced
to the salon alone. It was large and beautiEul, with
windows opening upon the shrubbery. An elegant
table was in the centre of the apartment, which had
but one article on it, and that was the identical vol
ume I had a few days before brought for Madame.
I was, of course, touched with this compliment to
father in its delicacy, so characteristic of French po
Uteness. It moreover assured me of the friendship
of the lady. I waited a few moments, and very
shortly a bright, rather petite, charming elderly lady,
graceful in every motion and feature, entered and
saluted me as an old friend. It is true I understood
not a word, and was in fact dumb ; but in a panto
mimic way expressed my deUght at meeting her.
Taking my arm, she gayly led me to a colossal bust,
which I inferred was that of La Place, about which
she chattered as fast as she could speak, but about
the purport of the talk I stUl continued obstinately

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 131
unable to comprehend a single word until at length,
after various phrases, aU given with the greatest good
humor and without a trace of apparent consciousness
on her part that I was so stupid, I suddenly caught
a Ught. Yes, it was so. I was sure she meant to
send the noble bust to father as a token of her re
spect and kind appreciation of his present to her.
Of course, in broken accents of bad French, I bowed
and spoke my thanks, which she apparently under
stood better than I did myself. In five minutes I
was perfectly at my ease, and thought myself quite
a Frenchman. " How did you come ? " she asked.
" En voiture," I repUed. " Eh bien," was her sole
response. Evidently she saw the predicament, but,
good soul, instantly in her mind, I have no doubt,
placed me in Magendie's chaise for my return to
Paris. Soon the party began to collect : savants
from the observatory ; Bouvard, a quiet sort of plod
ding man ; Magendie, the physiologist, and eight or
ten more, all full of animated talk, with Madame as
presiding genius over aU. With Magendie I coiUd
speak English, for he spoke it. It may seem strange,
nevertheless it was true, that I did not, after a very
short experience of the marvelous tact of Madame
La Place, want to speak EngUsh, but actuaUy, pre
ferred to talk French ! Phoebus ! what French it
must have been ! Of how the dinner was served or
what we ate and drank, I have no recoUections. Two
circumstances remain indeUbly impressed ; viz., first,
that I sat by Madame's order between the consul
and Magendie, and second, that she understood every

132 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
word I said to her, although I was at a loss at times
to recognize what I really said in French. The fact
is, Madame was charming ; a widow between sixty
and seventy years of age, but stUl fiUl of vivacity
and amiabiUty, she fascinated every one who came
within the sphere of her influence. I saw her once
surrounded by four or five of the most noted savants
of France, whUe she talked badinage of the bright
est kind with aU. The centre of aU, she Ulumiaated
all and brought Ught out from aU around her. She
was never wanting, and always kindly and full of
piquant vivacity. I thus spent nearly two hours,
and I never spent happier ones ; thought myself one
of the party ; laughed and made merry with them ;
and aU the whUe forgot that I knew next to nothing
of the language of most of the speakers, hardly re
cognizing one word in ten of aU that was spoken.
But for all that, I arose to depart vdth the fuU be
lief that I had had a " downright good time." AU
this was owing to Madame's skiU. I never saw any
Anglo-Saxon woman to be compared with this old
lady of sixty-three. I drove home to Paris with
Magendie, who promised to let me see certain cases
of fatal disease just then having a recrudescence,
most of the hospitals being fiUed up by them.
Of Madame La Place I am sorry to say I saw like
wise but little, she living in the fashionable quarter,
I in the Quartier Latin. She probably had had
enough of me for a season. Meanwhile I had occa
sionaUy called and had always been received with that

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 133
bright, wUling courtesy which was her distinguish
ing characteristic. I had one other dinner with her
during my student days. It was a short time before
I left Paris. I was then able to think in French.
It flew from my tongue more freely even than did
my native language. This time it was on the Bou
levard des Capucines. There were sixteen in the
party. Madame, I think, was the only lady ; at any
rate, she was the only one I remember ; and again
I saw her in fuU fun, with a party of learned acade
micians around her, evidently putting all perfectly
at their ease, but at the same time stimulating their
wit to the highest pitch. We sat at a round table,
at which each had his " bouteiUe " before him and a
plate containing a different article from all else on the
table. We had these replaced three, if not four,
times. It was the most perfect private dinner I ever
sat at, when I consider the cuisine recherchee and
the character of my associate guests. Over all Ma
dame La Place reigned supremely, with a vivacious
good-humored ease of manner that was enchanting.
I went away regretting that so soon I was to leave
forever the society of this admirable woman. My
final call was entirely a la frangaise. I had long
felt myself a learned doctor and was about to leave
for home and called to pay my respects. It was
about mid-day when I left the gay boulevard and
knocked at the 2me itage of the building where she
lived. Much to my surprise, I was ushered into the
boudoir of Madame and found her reclining in bed,
with jaunty cap and morning gown of exquisite

134 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
character, evidently prepared for company. "Green
to the last," inwardly ejaculated I, when, to my sym
pathizing remark, " Madame, je suis bien fache de
vous trouver malade," she, with one of her bewitch
ing smiles and gentle laugh, repUed, " Ah, Monsieur
Bowditch, je ne sms pas malade, seulement un peu
paresseuse ! " We laughed heartUy and chatted for
some time, and it was with real regret that I quitted
finally, and with the thought that I probably should
never see her again. I had seen her but Uttle, but
that Uttle had impressed me with the idea that,
though thoroughly French and poUshed and of the
haut ton, she was in her heart of hearts a cheerful,
excellent, and bright woman, fuU to overflowing with
kindness. She was, as I find by calculation made
from the dates on the La Place monument, no less
than sixty-five years of age. Accordingly in 1859,
that is, more than a quarter of a century afterwards,
when I went to Europe again, and when Madame
was ninety, I caUed at the same place on the Boule
vard des Capucines. When introduced into her pre
sence I found her stUl more petite, but with the same
charming brightness of manner, though evidently
much broken in power. I am sorry to say her mem
ory at first was treacherous ; she could not make out
the comparatively gray-haired man of fifty-one as the
young student of the former time. Suddenly the
vision of past years seemed to come up, and aU her
graciousness and kindness of manner returned — she
had been a Uttle stately until that time : " Eh bien,
maintenant je me rappeUe et je suis bien contente de

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 135
VOUS voir. Vous dinerez avec moi demain." I as
sured her that it would afford me but too much plea
sure and, indeed, that I should be enchanted to do so.
Poor thing, she was now truly old, yet how charm
ing to see the grace of former days stUl lighting up
in the wee face, much as it did years before when
joking with many of the celebrities of Paris.
I remember but little of her conversation, but I
was compelled to teU the history of my life after
leaving Paris — of my English wiEe met in Paris, of
my chUdren, and of my sweet " Uttle Le," whom I
had left among her kinsfolk in London. To the dear
daughter she sent a shawl as a souvenir, and wanted
to see her. Altogether, I found my visit left as
amiable a result upon my heart as any of my pre
ceding ones. She had evidently formed a high esti
mate of father, and wanted to see and know all his
descendants. I remained in Paris eight days, and she wanted
me to caU daily and dine with her whenever I chose.
One day only did I dine with her and her son, the
present Marquis, General de Division de I'Armee
frangaise. Madame La Place was simply charming
to me, as she was to others, at sixty-five and ninety
years of age, with the same traits visible.
All these memories floated before me as I stood
by her grave at Pere la Chaise. It was a tissue of
sweet experiences which now, as I look back upon
them, seem like a mental mosaic, so to speak, most
fair to look upon.
Between my second and third visits to Paris

136 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
Madame had died. I was in doubt about the time
or method of calling upon her son, the marquis, but
I determined to call the day before leaving Paris.
I prepared a letter telling of my visit to her grave,
of my respect for the memory of his mother, and
determined to leave it in case I could not find him.
I caUed at the old place, BoiUevard des Capucines.
I found the now old marquis, and he received me
with gracious courtesy, and was interested in my
remarks about his mother. I told him of my pleasant
reminiscences of her, and begged him to teU me of
the years subsequent to the last time I saw her. I
especiaUy asked him to say whether that charming
graciousness and kindliness of manner which she
formerly possessed continued untU the last, and I
hoped that she had not suffered. " Monsieur," he
replied, " it continued even to the last hour. EUe
n'a pas souffert. EUe etait seulement eteinte." He
then related how she continued well, but of course
had the weakness of increasing age. She was able
to rise, and could be dressed daUy. On the morning
of her death she slept longer than usual, and her
maid awakened her. She was calm, seemed weak
but not suffering, and with mind perfectly clear
and serene, without the least trace of approaching
death, feU asleep again a " few moments more," as
she said to her attendant. She never awoke, but
passed away without a struggle.
To me there is something inexpressibly beautiful
in such a death. After a life of gentleness and
kindliness to all, always cheerfuUy opening her eyes

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 137
to God's bounties, and to all the pleasantness of this
world, she quietly faUs asleep in death, untroubled
alike by ceremonials or by long, torturing pain of
body or anxiety of mind. May my last hours be
like hers.
I forgot to mention that before leaving I asked if
he had any photograph of his mother. He told me
that he had only one painting, taken in the dress of
the first consulate. That portrait I saw. It was a
full length, in ball dress, tiimmed with flowers, etc.,
evidently taken long before I first saw her. I should
not have recognized the likeness. This was in the
parlor. In the opposite corner of the room, on a
pedestal, stood the bust of father which, years be
fore, we had sent to her. On each side of it were
two candelabra with half-burned candles, evidently
so arranged as to set off the head. I was reminded,
as I looked at it, of my first entrance to Arcueil
and of the sole book upon the table of the salon.
Truly my memories of the La Place family wUl be
ever pleasant, and I am glad to have this fitting
opportunity to recaU these few facts iUustrative of
my connection with it.

September 24.
We went out to breakfast, down into the Rue de
I'Ecole de Medecine, the scenes of my student Ufe.
How Maunoir and Bizot of Geneva came up, as I
passed the house where I dined with them and the
bevy of law and medical students thirty years be-

138 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
fore ! On the doorposts formerly appeared, half
worn out, the words " Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite."
It had been the residence of Marat, that most odious
of the French revolutionists. Every day, at that
time, I passed up and down the very stairs that
Charlotte Corday ascended when she went on her
bloody work, and near our dining-room was the
small bath-room in which he was murdered.
He had been much interested in the use of horseflesh
as an article of food by the Parisians, and during this
visit determined to seek out some restaurant and satisfy
himself as to the merits of this form of diet.
I continued my tramp and stioUed towards St.
Sulpice market, where I heard there was a marche
au cheval. I found one small shop with the above
sign. The keeper of it was an ignoramus, and I
could get but Uttle from him that was of value, and
where to get a horse steak in those parts was diffi
cult to say. He told me that he used ten horses per
week all the year around, or five hundred and twenty
as a sum total, and there were from twelve to fifteen
similar shops in Paris (reaUy seventeen, as I heard
afterwards). He advised me to call on Monsieur
Pierre, Medecin Veterinaire a Bercy. He could
be found near the deUghtful Barriere de I'Enfer,
Boulevard St. Germain. Accordingly, I started for
a long tramp. It was a weary walk, through many
new streets beyond the Luxembourg. On the way
I dropped into one of those beautifully built iron
markets recently erected for the convenience of the

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 139
Parisians in various parts of the city, — Ught, airy,
and graceful, and redolent with the sweet aroma of
rich, ripe fruit and vegetables. Stalls, very compact
and very clean, are found throughout, each having its
own salesman or saleswoman, who receive one vrith
a smUe, and sell fruit mighty cheap. With all my
efforts I could not find Monsieur Pierre, but I found
something perhaps quite as good, viz., a communi
cative vendor of horses. Seeing the sign formerly
spoken of, I went in and was admitted, after a time,
into the private room of the proprietor, who said as
foUows : —
" There are two chief seasons ; viz., winter and
summer, when the trade is most brisk. During
winter " (I think he said) " there are four times as
many horses kUled as in summer. There are four
abattoirs and seventeen shops in Paris." He him
self uses about forty horses a month in one season ;
twelve to eighteen in the other. The number of
hippophagists is increasing. The people and the
restaurants in the immediate vicinity of the shop use
the meat less frequently than elsewhere. All horses
are inspected, and if the slightest injury or sore ap
pears on them, they are refused admission to the
abattoirs. Mules and asses, being the same kind of
meat, are also used. I wanted a lunch, and proposed
to enter an adjacent restaurant and get a steak. My
informant told me that woiUd never do ; that every
body about there was especially punctilious about
the matter, and would deny their abUity to give me
one. He said the only way was for me to buy a

140 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
piece and get it cooked. Finally I agreed to take a
piece, provided he would send his man with me in
order " to put the thing through." With a certain
mystery I followed him, and was ushered upstairs,
after various whisperings with madame on the part
of my guide, and mysterious glances at me. I took
my demi-bouteille and bread and butter and Uttle
radishes, and seated myselE at one of the neat tables,
and read the news whUe Ustening to the conversa
tion of a party of paysans and their bonnes amies.
Their subject was horse meat and the horrors of
eating it, although they said some had eaten it
without knowing it ; stiU, the majority evidently
would have looked at me as a monster if they had
known my intention. But doubtless they envied
my delicious looking, smelling, and simmering
steak when they saw it placed on the table before
me. I boldly, yet with a certain shrinking, attacked
it, but the taste was very Uttle different from com
mon beef — somewhat " gamey." It was deUciously
juicy, and the gravy was exceUent. I ate an excel
lent lunch. I congratulated madame, as I left, on
her delicious cooking. Madame smUed and said it
needed a connoisseur to cook horse meat well : it
should be done over a quick fire and with plenty of
sweet butter ; then it was juicy, but over a slow fire
and with less butter it became tough. Every article
that is made with common beef can be made with
horseflesh. During this visit he had the pleasure of meeting his old
master and friend, Louis, and in two letters gives an

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 141
amusing account of his controversy with a relative and
opponent of Victor Hugo.

September 25.
Dined with Louis out by the Bois de Bologne
Fauvel, the reporter of the International Commission
of Cholera, and Woillez were there, physicians. A
nephew and niece of Victor Hugo (Madame Louis's
brother) were the only persons besides myselE. I
enjoyed the dinner, and yet I came almost to blows
upon poUtics with the nephew, and had less talk
than I could have wished with Fauvel. I learned
from him, however, that although he considered
cholera contagious, it needed a nidus of filth for
its great development. The nephew and his charm
ing wife were as the antipodes in their influence
upon me. He was not only a Reactionnaire, and
opposed entirely to repubUcanism, but careless in
his expression of America and of the "people." I
have rarely met so Uttle real courtesy on the part of
a Frenchman. Usually, if they disagree with you,
they do not flaunt out opposing opinions, at any
rate to Americans, but the utmost suavity of speech
and manner is preserved, however much opposed they
may feel — at least, this is my experience with the
French gentlemen. But in the case of the young
man above aUuded to, he made several severe indirect
aUusions of contempt for our acts and institutions.
I bore them calmly for a time, but felt my heart
beating in a way that portended a spurt of vivacious
talk. When that comes I must speak before its

142 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
throbbing wiU cease. After the word is uttered the
disquieted heart becomes immediately calm.
• ••....•• September 26.
I dined yesterday at Louis's, and, as usual, he
overwhelmed me with kindness. I never met with
such. He attended me during the long Ulness in
youth, and in my age he does what no one else does.
About five days ago I called at his house in Paris,
but learned that he was at NeuUly during the sum
mer. I left my card with the word that he must
not disturb himself, but that I would caU some
other day. On the following morning, however, he
caUed and left his card, asking me to dine. The
next day, apparently fearing I would miss the way,
he again called, and by accident I had returned
after breakfast. At the corner of the street Louis
and I met. His manner was very cordial. He put
his hand on my shoulder and talked and laughed,
and said some compUmentary things, which the
French do so graciously, and then gave explicit di
rections as to how I must proceed to get to his
house. Yesterday, the day appointed, I received
a telegram stating that he would himself call for
me. Of course I was ready at the house. He had
driven in, and I drove out with him. He lives at a
house directly opposite the Bois de Bologne, a lovely
place. I found the drives very pleasant around the
Place de la Concorde, the Champs Elysees, the dear
though desecrated Rue Marbceuf by the Barriere de
I'Etoile. 1 met at the house Madame Louis (sister

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 143
of Victor Hugo) and her niece by marriage and the
lady's husband. Doctors Woillez and Fauvel, both
eminent in our profession, both names well known
in America. The dinner was simple and friendly in
its methods, but sufficiently elaborate to suit a gor-
mand even. We had claret and champagne. The
conversation was, of course, chiefly theirs, because I
could not always keep up with them. There were,
however, some Uttle contrarieties between Victor
Hugo's nephew and myself. He is evidently a
strong CathoUc, hates Garibaldi, abhors revolution
and democracy. However, I ventured to suggest that
I saw no good logical reason why the Bishop of Rome
("le Pape," they immediately said) should retain
temporal sovereignty in order to have perfect inde
pendence in his actions as spiritual guide any more
than any other bishop. It was a torpedo, and the
man who was ashamed of his uncle, the noble exile
(Victor Hugo), pitched into me. I made matters
worse, I suppose, when, horrified at Dr. WoiUez's
saying that a priest suggested that Garibaldi woiUd
be simply " garroted," I replied, " It is impossible ;
they wUl never dare to strangle him," and I made
the sign of bowstring about my neck. It appears
that " garroting " does not mean in ItaUan what it
does in Spanish, but simply tied or confined. How
ever, I finished my remarks about the bishop by say
ing, " Ca ira," the very words of a revolutionary
song of no good sound to aristocratic ears.
Louis, sweet old man as he is, came to the rescue
and mUdly suggested, " Eh bien, Monsieur Bowditch,

144 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
parle seulement sur des principes," and so the matter
dropped. But the youth " riled " me again by his
constant sneers against the American Constitution.
This was whUe we were at dinner and in a general
conversation. I thought it rather insulting, and was
surprised that he should have made it, but my blood
boiled over into something Uke this : " I am not in
favor of a republic for aU nations. Some cannot
have it. For example, France cannot bear one. She
is totally unfit for it. But let me say now that, not
withstanding all our late troubles and the immense
amount of blood and treasure we have spent, not
withstanding we have lost our sons in this late war,
the North generally was never more truly democratic
or had more faith in the people than now." And
again I subsided, and the conversation flowed on in
the accustomed channel of nothings. The remark
acted Uke a bombshell, and silenced the enemy.
Notwithstanding all this semi-fracas, I had a de
lightful time. Louis was benign, and as beautiful
in his old age as you can imagine a man to be. He
still presides at table and is bright and smUing, and
kisses the forehead of his pretty niece with a kindli
ness that is quite as charming as the manners of the
ladies. So pray do not imagine I did not enjoy
myselE, for I did, and these talks and explosions
were the sauce piquante requisite to give a real
savor to the whole.
About eight we left in an omnibus for the railway
to Paris. About nine I was in Epes's room detaU-
ing the story. During the ride back, Madame, the

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 145
niece, told me that the family did not like the course
Victor Hugo had pursued; that she thought his
niece by marriage had never seen him ; that whUe
giving him credit for not being criminal, they did
not regard him as a " bon Chretien." " A prophet
is not without honor," etc. This lady seemed to
be sorry, but not vindictive. She is intelligent, and
speaks English tolerably well. She reminded me of
that sweet Madame L. whom we used to see at times
at our pension bourgeoise in former days.
In writing of his visit to the Conciergerie, and of
his thoughts of Marie Antoinette and Robespierre, he
says, —
Of course whUe standing on the spot, only dimly
could I bring up any of the prominent facts of
Robespierre's Ufe. I only remembered him as the
leader during the " Reign of Terror," when blood
flowed from every door, and the heart of France
bowed before a tyranny as much worse than that
which preceded it as heU is worse than heaven —
and aU in the name of Uberty. . . .
Retraciag my steps, I foUowed my companions
and came up again before the crucifix,^ to whieh I
have already aUuded. I again passed my hand rap
idly and carefully over the body and limbs of the
representation of the Saviour, and seemed to feel in
some measure ennobled by so doing. A portion of
the pure spirit of bleeding humanity as it streamed
down through the ages from the dear Christ, and
1 In the cell of Marie Antoinette.
VOL. n.

146 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
through his Ul-fated disciple, the unfortunate lady
who formerly had looked in agony towards it, seemed
to descend on me, and without uttering a word, I
passed out with the thought that never in my life
had I had a more interesting visit to any shrine.
LoiroON, Monday, October 14.
According to engagement, I caUed on Mr. Paget,^
and consulted him, and he gave me relief from anx
iety about the future of a trouble that had com
menced. Mr. Paget I was glad to meet personally.
He stands now at the head of the surgical profession
of England. He is a gentleman in every respect, cor
dial and wUling to aid ; not perhaps quite so cordial
as Sir Astley Cooper was in the days of my youth
when I once breakfasted with him. Sir Astley was
tall and handsome, as Dr. Reynolds of Boston ; at
least six feet high, with well-proportioned head, chest,
and abdomen. He sought applause, and craved it.
The applause of foreigners seemed apparently Uke
the applause [Ulegible] ; hence he greeted us with
an abandon of politeness, letting his patients wait
for us, and in spite of our protests. Paget saw me,
greeted me with cordiaUty, and having told my tale,
and he having said his say, I was aUowed to de
part, to make room immediately for another in
turn. Mr. Paget has written one of the best books
this century has produced, " Surgical Pathology ; "
but modern science does not let any book remain
long useful or binding on its readers. He is the
* Afterwards Sir James Paget.

TRIP ABROAD IN 1867 147
most eloquent man I ever heard on matters of sci
ence. He speaks without notes, chooses the best
and choicest language, carries aU with him, and
keeps them always entertained and interested, for
he always teaches something new. I heard him nine
years before in a lecture deliyered before the Royal
Institution on the " Chronometry of LiEe."
Sir John Forbes or Sir James Clark, I forget
which, gave me a ticket, saying, " You must hear
Paget; everybody goes to hear him; " and after Us
tening an hour to him, I did not wonder at the suc
cess he had gained. He wished to prove that there
is a law of development in time throughout all na
ture as imperious in its demands as the law of gravity
or any of the great laws of nature. And he drew
his proofs from the operations of the vegetable and
animal world and from, in fact, inanimate and ani
mate nature, in a perfectly beautiful and striking
manner. I wish he would lecture at the LoweU In
stitute. His surgical practice in London, immense
as it must be, would prevent. I gave him my Uttle
pamphlet on the " Contagiousness of Consumption,"
which he thanked me for, and said, with my permis
sion, he should send it to Dr. Budd, who only a few
days before had written to him a letter stating his
beUef that that was one of the chief ways of its
transmission. I spent about fifteen minutes with
him, and then, his room being occupied with waiting
patients, I withdrew.
His journal of this trip closes with the foUowing : —

148 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
One day I was delighted, when passing one of
the rookeries of London, at seeing two or three chU
dren, dirty and ragged it is tine, but dancing to the
tune played by a hand-organ. Beautiful to see joy
bursting out, even in abject poverty, and sorrow
ful to think that possibly, as life wears on, aU such
sweet hopes wUl be cut off, and no merriment or joy
be the daUy course of the little ones of the hour.

CHAPTER XXni
TOUE IN EUEOPE, 1870 — NIGHT WALK WITH THE
POLICE IN EAST LONDON — VISIT TO STEASSBUEG
AFTEE THE BOMBARDMENT
My father's fourth and last trip to Europe, in 1870,
was made an especiaUy happy one by the presence of my
mother, who, although far from weU when she left home,
rapidly regained her former health, and was able to enjoy
to the utmost this visit to her native land. Circumstances
had hitherto prevented their taking such an extended trip
together, and this holiday made an epoch in their singu
larly united lives. It was during this visit that he made
a tour of lower London with the police at night, and later
went to Strassburg, just after the bombardment. Inter
esting accounts of these events are given in journal letters
to my sister. London, May 26, 1870.
Here we are fairly settled in "dear old diagy
London," inappropriately so named at present, how
ever, for we have had a continuation of the lovely
weather that has followed us from our start. I was
early upon deck upon the morning of the 23d, at
three a. m., in fact. It was raining, and although, as
the captain said, we were probably within sight of
the Irish coast, we could see nothing of it. I re
turned to bed, and at six, after a nap, I went again
on deck, and was greeted with the beautiEul sunUght,

150 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
and found myself fairly skirting the rugged shores
of the Emerald Isle. . . .
At four A. M. of the 24th I was up, in hopes of
seeing the mountains of Wales, but alas, it was hazy,
and I was too late. The far-off peaks were only dimly
visible at the south, and we were fast steaming on
toward Liverpool. We passed the iron "bell buoy,"
famed in song and story. It was sUent and motion
less as the sea around. The day was lovely.
At 5.30 we dropped anchor, with the conviction
that never had I had so deUghtful a voyage. It
seemed so short a time, when calculating by days,
since we left New York, but years long when calcu
lating the friendships gained and events crowded
into the same time. Above aU, my sweet " English
Le " has thoroughly enjoyed every moment, and the
voyage has brought her back to her old self. . . .
With the 730,190th revolution of our screw, the
ship anchored at Liverpool. . . . We then drove
to the station, booked our trunks for London, and
started for Chester. . . . We were received at the
clean hotel, where Epes and I stopped formerly, and
had a nice, neat dinner, excellently served. Your
mother and A  admired the perfect neatness of
the chamber to which they were introduced. We
went in an open carriage to see the old town. I
enjoyed the zest with which the newcomers ad
mired the cathedral, and was especiaUy deUghted to
find how much of the antiquary lay locked up in
the dear mother's heart. Her enthusiasm at the
carving of the old choir, at the serene beauty and

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 151
quiet of the time-worn cloisters was great. Her
youth was renewed like the eagle's. . . . Returning,
we entered the train about five o'clock, and started
through England's garden toward London. The
dear mother kept her eyes and heart open to the
sweet influences of the dear little English viUages,
with the old stone churches overrun with ivy, and
sweet parsonages, and neat gravel walks leading
through venerable graveyards to the church porch.
I am sorry to say that my own eyes were not always
open to these divine influences, and consequently she
had no companion always to enjoy with her all the
charms of this journey. May 30, 1870.
. . . May Boston shine as brightly, and the air be
as bahny with you there as it is with us in London.
We shaU decorate the dear young soldier's photo
graph with a few flowers from Covent Garden.
May 31, 1870, 9 A. m.
I left off for breakfast, and immediately afterwards
went to Covent Garden ; and now in front of the
photographs, where they have been placed since
yesterday, stand four flower pots containing, respec
tively, a fine rosebush, a geranium, a heath, and a
mignonette, aU in blossom. We intend to keep them
or others there during the time we stay here. I
hope the Memorial Day passed pleasantly, and that
it had its proper and benign effects upon the people,
even those who took no part ia it. The memory of
self-sacrifice never can do harm, and when for that

152 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
sacrifice a great good for humanity is gained, the
effect is never lost. I should have Uked to make an
annual pUgrimage to Mt. Auburn and stiew flowers
over the grave of our dear one, but in spirit I join
with the soldiers, and I know that some friends laid
flowers for me upon Nat's grave. My day was spent
with your mother and Mr. and Mrs. Washburn at
Kew.
June 2, 1870.
" Hurrah for the Darby ! " I wish I could give
you even a gUmpse at this " English institution : " as
much so as the carnival at Rome or at Paris, or the
" Praterfahrt " at Vienna iUustrate the respective
people whose chief cities I have mentioned. I might
have added without blame the buU fight at Madrid,
to attend which, on some festival day, the poor Span
iard will, it is said, sell his last shirt. To return to
our special talk, the " Darby " at Epsom revealed to
me more of the pecuUarities of the EngUsh than any
place or performance I have seen ; whUe, at the same
time, I saw that human nature itselE is the same
everywhere, that the love of pure fun and froUc
exists in every people, and that a sufficient motive
alone wUl serve to bring it out. I have never
laughed more than I did yesterday, and I think the
shaking up of " my Uver " by the process wUl serve
to keep off iU feeUng for many a day to come. If
ever I feel disconsolate, and perhaps begin to mor
alize on the sadness of human nature, I hope I
shaU think of Epsom. If ever I get cross and think
aU folks are cross with me, I shaU need only to

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 153
remember the good humor everywhere displayed by
the English people, whUe going, while there, and
during our return ; and I know I shall " snicker "
outright, even in the presence of facts the most
sobering in their influences. Jollity is the only
word that conveys the least idea of the state of mind
I was in from the moment of leaving Thorney Street
tUl we arrived home again about eight p. m., after
about ten hours of real labor ; viz., a thirty mUe drive
and a stand or walk (chiefly) of several hours when
away from our hansom. July 25, 1870.
. . . You have, I know, attributed my long neg
lect of writing to the proper causes ; viz., first, my
having such an admirable amanuensis in your sweet
mother, and second, my multipUcity of engagements,
which prevent me from writing much more than the
heads of my future journal. At present, having
plenty of time unoccupied, I purpose spending an
hour or more with you, and to give you " a night's
stroU with the London police."
Three or four weeks ago I received a cordial let
ter from that dear old gentleman. Uncle Charles
Yardley (formerly, as you doubtless remember. Chief
of the MetropoUtan PoUce under Sir Robert Peel,
but now a retired officer Uving at Marlborough Hill,
St. John's Wood, in dignified ease), inclosing an
other letter from the present Chief Commissioner,
Colonel Henderson. In that I was informed that I
had only to mention the day and an exceUent poUce
inspector would be detaUed to accompany me so that

154 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
I could see the worst places and persons in the metro
polis and in their dens at night. I wished to see
them from no idle curiosity, but simply for the pur
pose of studying into this vast metropoUs — this
microcosm, so to speak, the very dregs of human
nature. I wished to see how they lived, how they
worked, and how they played, and their habits in
every particular. I weU knew it would be a new
world to me, and I thought, as it reaUy proved, that
it would be one of the greatest interest to study.
I knew, too, that human nature is about the same
everywhere, and I did hope that I might gain some
thing that might possibly be of service to dear
New England, who, though younger and perhaps
less steeped in misery and vice, I knew must have
the same woes as London has on her more magnifi
cent scale.
At nine P. m., July 20, your Uncle Vin and I,
after an omnibus drive of about half an hour, were
at Lehman Street Police Station at Whitechapel. I
had taken the precaution to leave my watch with its
gold chain and the greater part of my money at
home. I had also dressed myself in full black, and
instead of frock overcoat I put on a thin sack with
pockets inside and falling below my hips. By these
means I felt sure that even the smaU sum of money
I had about me would be pretty weU defended from
the disciples of Eagin, who I knew would be nu
merous. Arrived fairly at the station, and my card
presented, we were met most cordiaUy. A glance
at the countenance of one man dressed in a simple

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 155
citizen's dress showed me that he was there for the
purpose of being our guide. He received us with
great poUteness, showed us aU the arrangements of
the station house for the comforts of the poUce and
for the safe keeping of the prisoners. Under his
directions three of the locked ceUs were opened.
They were everywhere of bare wood. Five men
were lying on the benches drunk and asleep. A
woman with a babe was in the third. She was
awake, her babe lying asleep on the board beside
her. She was committed for an [illegible] assault.
How apparently easy for any one even not a prophet
to cast the horoscope of that sleeping child ! What
hope to save it from misery and crime ! Yet there
is at times a divine instinct inspired by the good
Lord which even from the very depths of wretchedness
leads up to heaven. Let us hope, therefore, that
such vrill be the happy lot of the Uttle sleeper who
looked, as he lay totaUy unconscious of the degraded
condition of his mother and as quietly at rest as if
upon a loving, honest mother's bosom, as if some
heavenly spirit was shielding and soothing him to
his sweet slumber. We went into the rooms — sleep
ing, eating, working, reading, and amusement — of
the poUce. Two hundred and fifty single men re
port to that station, and means for their improve
ment and pleasure must be provided. The house
was an aristocratic looking place. The lofty ceUing
and the twisted rounds of the staircase fully indicated
that. Formerly, the guide said, they had a band and
music helped, but the leader said it had been given

156 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
up, owing to the many discordant notes uttered by
the members. " Let us try the highway," said our
guide, as we stepped into the street. The broad street
was lighted with blazing lamps, under which flaunted
or quietly strolled along the poor degraded creatures
that at that hour began their nightly promenades.
We soon struck off into darker and more narrow
passages, and finally came into Glasshouse Street
Lane. It was UteraUy lined and swarming with
human beings of both sexes and aU ages. The
chUdren seemed legion. Most of these persons were
lying in various attitudes on the pavement, either
talking or sleeping. The passageway was so nar
row that we could not pass between the rows save
by single file. To make the walk stUl more pecu
Uar, a gasUght had been extiaguished about mid
way down, so that only dusky human figures were
visible, some looking Uke reptiles as they lay pros
trate and generaUy sUent. Our guide was evidently
recognized, and an occasional kindly greeting from
a man or woman who was standing proved to me
that his relations with them were friendly, and at
the same time firm. I could not help thinking of
Dante following Virgil to the depths of Hades ;
and although the thought at first sight may seem
very presumptuous, stUl in one aspect it is entirely
appropriate, viz., the implicit confidence we put in
our guide.
We slowly proceeded down the aUey, followed by
a bevy of children. One girl about ten years old,
as I judged from her height, was during the whole

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 157
time fumbling where she supposed my pockets to be ;
but fortunately my sack prevented all injury, and
I quietly submitted, knowing myselE to be secure. I
only thought, " You are an inexperienced little crea
ture, though not quite a novice in the business. Fa-
gin can teach you something more." Nevertheless,
I must confess to a sort of creepy feeling thrUUng
through me when thinking in what close proximity I
was to the young thief's fingers. However, I showed
no perturbation, and slowly foUowed. " Ah well, Mrs.
McGinnis," cheerily said our guide, as we stumbled
into an entry with floor uneven from broken boards
and heaps of filth, "how do you get along?" "Oh,
indeed, sir, poorly enough," repUed the person ad
dressed. She was a middle-aged, haggard looking
woman, with a husband half the time out of work,
and four chUdren, Uving in a room about six feet
square, without a chair or bed or the sUghtest com
fort in it. She was assisted by the Union with four
loaves a week and a Uttle money — two shiUings.
Not far from her was another room where the hus
band was more thrifty. There was a bed, a few
Catholic pictures and emblems ; and the woman
thanked God she had never been assisted. When
ever we stopped I was charmed with our guide's
method of dealing with those he met. He always
spoke cheerily, and the eyes that saw him evidently
blessed him. OccasionaUy one referred to previous
acts of kindness, so that I grew more and more con
fident in his power to lead us, and at the same time
to defend us by his presence. " What would have

158 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
happened iE we had by chance got into that alley
alone ? " I asked as we came out into the gasUght of
the street once again. " Should I have risked my
Ufe ? " " These are some of the most miserable, but
not really criminal. You would probably have been
hustled and in the darkness robbed, but not mur
dered," he replied. " A comfortable experience, and
a new one," thought I, " to have been so near and
to have escaped unharmed."
Suddenly our guide turned into a broadly open
court, a sort of small square, surrounded by dingy
looking houses, most of them having windows open,
and at several were persons peering out upon the
work that was going on below. A sad work it was !
A mother, tall, bright, and intelUgent looking, and
her daughter about fourteen years old, were work
ing on duck under the light of the single gas post
that stood in the centre of the place. They were
sewing stiips of it together. It required real muscle
to do the work, and the girl seemed to bend under
it, but the weU-knit muscle of the mother stood up
weU. " How are you ? " asked our guide. " Oh,
sir, getting along," smilingly answered the mother.
The poor child spoke not a word, but quietly kept
at her work, upon which mind and body seemed
wholly absorbed. She took no notice of us, and I
thought I could read in her face how the iron was
entering her young soul. Here were these two ;
they had worked most of the day and were prepar
ing to work until half past two a. m., and all for a
miserable pittance ; yet they must do that or starve

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 159
or steal in this Christian land. There was no joy,
none of the buoyancy of youth, shown on that rather
fair girl's face.
How could I wonder at drinking or saloon dan
cing or anything, in fact, to reheve the terrible life
long labor ? Yet even in this court I was told that
some of the chUdren went to school. In another
court of the same kind I saw another girl about
fourteen years old. She was an orphan and had
five young brothers and sisters all dependent upon
her. She was very qmet and modest. She answered
quietly, but with a sort of hopelessness, to our ques
tions, and seemed annoyed by the congregation of
boys and girls that immediately clustered around us
as we stopped and began to talk with her. " Run
away, run away," sternly said our guide. "Have
you never seen anybody talking vtith a body, that
you must need to crowd about us now ? " and they
immediately scattered like dew before the sun.
We went into one set of tenements about which
there has been a Utigation and no rent had been
paid to any one since Christmas. Miserable enough
was the aspect, but in one of the rooms was an old
Greenwich pensioner, rather talkative with his liquor,
and he told of the amenities of the place. Views of
Greenwich, I should think, must often come before
him, and yet he seemed quite fascinated with his
present home. If he had been more sober, perhaps
he would have viewed it with rather different eyes.
With his beer, however, he was happy as the queen ;
nay, probably happier than Victoria at Balmoral.

160 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
The night wore on as we walked, and suddenly I
almost feU as I stumbled up the narrow, dark, wind
ing staircase leading to one of the scenes recently de
scribed by Dickens. In the story of Edwin Drood is
the story of an opium smoker, as I am told (" Lascar
Sal") ; but I have never read the novel, and there
fore was only influenced by the fact that Dickens
had been there before me to have my interest in the
spot greatly enhanced. The sight I met there would
have been attractive to any one who cares to see hu
man nature in aU its phases. The room was smaU,
dark, and iU ventilated. It was filthy everywhere.
A foul looking bed was on one side, and on it, with
her feet towards the edge and vrith her body at times
raised upon her left elbow, or at times fairly recum
bent on the side, lay an old woman. Her counte
nance was grim with dirt and smoke. Her Ups and
features were of dingy hue ; her nostrUs were large
and animal-Uke, and bronzed like the rest. There
was about her none of the rosy hue either of health
or that from indulgence in Uquor. Her eyes were
duU and sluggish ; her speech was slow and shame
less, and yet it had a plaintive air, attractive to the
Ustener, as she readUy told her tale. She, too, had
received kindness from our guide, for she gently
aUuded to previous mercies bestowed. " You look
better and cleaner than usual," said he, as we all
three stood with her alone in that wretched room.
She was smoking a pipe made with a thick reed-
Uke stem, fastened to an old-fashioned Wedgwood
inkstand used as a bowl, into which she put her

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 161
opium. After years of as complete drunkenness
as, from her own story, one ever saw, she had
learned to smoke opium, which had mostly reUeved
her of her desire for Uquor. " But as it is," she added,
" I sometimes even now take a drop of gin or whis
key." For seventeen years she has used, on an aver
age, one drachm of opium, purely extracted by the
foUowing process, a long and wearisome one. She
buys with a few pennies some crude opium and boUs
it, in order to extiact from it various evU articles
mixed vrith it, and which she says are very " bad
for the stomach." Having thus obtained all the
virtues of the drug, she carefuUy boUs down the in
fusion tiU it becomes of the consistency of tieacle.
Arrived at this point it is put in thimblefuls for her
own personal use or for sale to Lascars and East
Indian saUors, Uke those from whom she formerly
learned the art. She was engaged in her deUcious
occupation of smoking as we entered. Reclining, as
I have said, she Ughted a small and dirty oU lamp
and put around it a low but filthy glass. The wick
was thrust in very low to prevent any smoking from
it. Over this the hag held the mouth of the pipe,
while at the same moment, with a piece of wire, she
held at its point a smaU drop of the Uquid. This
was graduaUy dried over the lamp untU ready for
smoking, and then occasionally pressed on the open
ing of the pipe whUe it was held near the flame.
While doing this she from time to time drew in
deep breaths. FinaUy, with a blast as from the nos
trUs of an unearthly and almost deviUsh looking hag,
vol. n.

162 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
she blew out volumes of dense black smoke, to the
distance of three or four feet. During this process
her nostrUs were widely distended, and the sense of
evidently ecstatic enjoyment was manifest in every
feature of her brown and beastly physiognomy. A
quiet imperturbabUity of countenance graduaUy set
tled over her, but she continued to talk and ramble
on with her horrid confessions. " Indeed, sir, if I
lose my opium, I am distressed all over my body.
It feels Uke electric shocks. Sometimes, when I have
no money to buy opium, I scrape up even the dirt
from my boxes in which opium has been kept, and I
boU that and it comforts me. Many persons chew
opium; that is worse than smoking, because the
stomach is eaten by it. But few in England smoke
it." This, then, was Dickens's subject : the very person
whom he had spoken to and had described. The
last time he was in the room was last February.
Her companions, the Lascar saUors who seek her
abode as they come from the opium smoking crea
tures of the East, were not present.
With much difficulty we came down the narrow
and broken staircase leading to the miserable abode
thus made famous by Dickens, and turned up stiU
farther into darkness. Keeping closely to the guide
we ascended another staircase. Soon we entered
another room already apparently crowded with seven
or eight persons, men and women. The air was suf
focating to us with animal effluvia and the smoke
of lamps and fumes of opium. My breath grew

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 163
shorter and I felt oppressed. From physical suffer
ing I longed to escape. Nevertheless, I was deter
mined to see aU that was to be seen. The room was
very smaU and low, but a Uttle neater than that last
seen. It was the boarding-house of Lascar seamen.
Two beds were in the room. Two men were on one
of them, and they were lying in the same senu-re-
cumbent posture in which the woman was previously
seen. The dirty lamp, with its smaU wick just barely
burning, was between them, resting on the coverUd.
The two were enjoying together a " quiet smoke."
The same processes, same dipping up of the Uttle
drops of Uquid opium, the same burning, and the same
deep draughts were carried on ; only in the present
case a real opium pipe was used, and it was every
moment passed from the lips of the one to those
of the other of the two miserable looking wretches
before me. The night was hot, the window was
but partially open ; they lay there with their legs
thrown toward the side of the bed and carelessly
covered vdth their thin cot' -n of a dingy white
color. They took but little notice of our presence
and entered into conversation with us as if it were
all a matter of course. The disgust and horror I
felt when learning that one of these claimed to be
a doctor was unbounded. A native doctor who had
come, as he said, as surgeon in the ship ! Over
coming my repugnance, I talked with them both,
and examined their pipe, which they seemed wiUing
to allow us to see.
" WeU, how is the practice of medicine with you ?

164 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
Could you amputate an arm ? " I asked of the doctor.
" I do all as the EngUsh books tell," he repUed. " I
hab cut off one arm that was shot with bullet." His
language and whole deportment led your uncle and
me to think he was a shallow pretender, and as I saw
him lying there sucking iu his infernal draught, I
thought what misery his reputation must carry to the
wretched victims that faU under his care. " Is it
possible," thought I, " that you ever felt the divine
zeal for study, and for the acquirement of all know
ledge necessary for any true lover of our ' noble
art ' ? " I did not, however, express to him my
doubts, but let him run on and tell of his exploits as
iE I beUeved every word he said was the exact truth.
It was now about quarter past midnight, and these
two we left stiU smoking and still constantly pre
paring in their sluggish way their (apparently) sole
means of enjoyment. Could anything be more de
grading to mind and body than their condition ?
Almost breathless from the close atmosphere to
which I had been confined for ten minutes, and infi
nitely disgusted with the scene, I was glad to get out
into the dark and dirty court.
I breathed more freely, and I had a sense of men
tal freedom Ukewise that was delightful ; yet I would
not have faUed to see that couple. It was another
new experience, and taught me much of the horrible
result of ungovernable appetite whoUy unrestrained.
Again we wandered forth into the night. The gin
palaces of all grades were glittering with light. In
the rear of some of them were dancing halls and

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 165
music haUs, and in one case a very respectably sized
theatre with pit and gallery. Everywhere we fol
lowed our guide, who seemed to have the " open
sesame " to aU. The theatre was fiUed with not dis
reputable looking men and women. I learned from
Sergeant GUUes, our guide, that those in the pit were
reaUy respectable, but poor mechanics and their
wives, able to visit this simple and cheap place. In
the large gallery above, which we did not enter, were
the " Cyprians." All was as orderly as at " Sel-
wyn's." It was rather odd, as it seemed to me, for
us three to be aUowed to walk in, and amid the blaze
of chandeUers to stand gazing upon the scene around
us. It was indeed odd enough. A young man was
just finishing a song as we entered. The audience
seemed to pay no attention to us, so that I soon re
covered my self-possession and calmly looked around
as much as I desired to without offending anybody.
As soon as the actor finished, some one of the au
dience gave out a subject, namely, " The present
war," and called on him to improvise upon it. This
he did with infinite gUbness in doggerel lines. No
regard whatever was paid to measure, but a series of
true Alexandrian versification was volubly spit out
by the youth. He only took care to produce a kind
of jingUng rhyme throughout the whole, no matter
how long or short each Une might be. As he talked
of John Bull's glory and of Wellington and of Wa
terloo, he gained supreme applause.
Having stayed about ten minutes, we left and went
into several other places of amusement. In one was

166 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
the " Fire King," so caUed, and we were asked
(probably owing to our being considered distin
guished strangers and allowed to enter everywhere
without pay and received vrith most intense respect)
if we would like to have him exhibit his powers in
" eating fire." Undoubtedly we wanted to see aU.
Accordingly the little dancing nymph ceased pirou
etting, and the music struck off from the fandango
style of composition into the terrible and demoniacal
character of perhaps " Der Freischutz " in the buUet
scene, or the thump, thump, and ponderous beats of
the tread of the commander in " Don Giovanni."
We were not, however, afraid, being shielded by the
aegis of our worthy sergeant. Suddenly a fantas-
ticaUy dressed, black-eyed man burst upon the stage,
and after making various pantomime evolutions and
ugly grimaces indicating that he was going to put
tow into his mouth and that the gaslight had some
thing to do with the operation, he began to puU bits
of tow from a bundle of it that he held in his hand.
He thrust rapidly piece after piece into his mouth tUl
I thought surely he would either suffocate himself
or prepare himself for some terrible indigestion at
night, when presto ! out came a puff of black smoke.
He blew it furiously out, as the old hag blew her
blast from her nostrUs. Again his mouth opened
and it seemed full of fire, whUe he blew sparks at
a distance of eight or ten feet. " The devU ! " in
wardly ejaculated I. " What have we here ? The
arch-fiend, or whom ? " I said nothing, however,
but thought the more. Having blown fire to his

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 167
heart's content without apparently crisping in the
least his black mustache and beard, he retired.
Very Uttle applause was given, and I suppose spec
tators had become blase in regard to his majesty's
efforts. I watched the panting girl who had just
finished her dance, and who sat patiently in front,
with face partially turned toward me. She might
have been fourteen years old ; not beautiful certainly,
yet by no means ugly. She seemed tired and weary.
I tried to read in the features the thoughts that were
stirring her. I like to go along the stieets and to
watch the faces of those I meet. I gain much in
struction and serious warning or hope therefrom. I
see many wrinkles made that might be avoided ; I
see care knitting the brow ; I see thick sensual lips
marking beastly propensity ; I see serene faith and
the beauty of a quiet hope marked in a few ; above
aU, I often meet the perfectly happy faces of chUd-
hood. In the present instance I said, " You poor
thing, you have nothing radicaUy evil about your
face. If you could get out of this vortex into which
necessity must lead you, you would not be here.
Who knows but the nourishment of some poor
mother or desolate orphan sisters depends on what
you gain here ? Your eyes are modest and shrink
from the look of the bystanders. Every motion is
simple. What is your history ? For my own com
fort I wUl read it as I have written, and if I have
read it aright, may God's blessing rest upon the
sweet, self-sacrificing efforts ! " WeU, why not
think of her as I could, and beUeve, as Dickens

168 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
often reveals to us, that diviner strains of heavenly
music are sometimes heard in the hearts of those poor
outcasts than we can hear in the palaces of the
mighty and in the so-called refined of the earth.
But, lo, the Fire King comes forth again. . . . Alto
gether, it was a strange sight, and one wonders
that this man night after night should waste his tal
ents in this low place, when, as I told the sergeant,
iE he would only go to America he would make his
fortune and perhaps have a breakfast with X  ,
and all the aristocratic young ladies would be dying
to shake hands with him.
We soon left and went down the street (far-famed
" Ratcliffe Highway ") and elbowed our way in sin
gle file between a row of men and women and the
bar of another dancing hall, from which evidently
the " Uquor damnation " was being dealt out with
out stint. Going up a few steps, we entered a long
room, and around tables were some men and women
drinking. . . .
During all this time we had been running the
rounds of the simply poor and vicious, not the really
criminal. Of these I wUl tell by and by, but now I
want to take you to one of the spots forever to be
remembered in connection with Dickens. Many
years ago this friend of man was making one of his
night promenades with the poUce, as we are now
doing, and he saw, even on a bitter cold night, men
and women lying out on the pavement before the
Union Workhouse. Refused admission even into
this place ! His heart bled, and he wrote and talked,

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 169
and finaUy persuaded the Government to estabUsh
" casual " wards everywhere. Now no homeless one
is without food and shelter, at least for one night,
in this vast metropoUs, containing four million hu
man souls.
On leaving the last place we walked towards the
casual wards of Whitechapel Union, and at quarter
past twelve we rang the bell. A Ught was in the
entry, but the porter was evidently asleep. One or
two smart raps on the door, however, soon aroused
Cerberus. I felt somewhat conscience smitten thus
to disturb the poor f eUow. However, I was not un
wUUng to see all that could be seen and what was
deemed worthy of being seen by our guide. After
various rattUng of chains, the door was opened about
a foot, much as a warder in olden times must have
first opened the trap beside the door when called by
the bugle horn of some new arrival at a castle gate.
" WeU, weU, come along," said our guide, in rather
rapid, stiU kindly words. "Let us in. How are
you all ? " Immediately the door closed again, the
chain was slipped, and we entered an entry exqui
sitely neat though narrow. The chief soon appeared
and bowed to the officer and his friends. " We want
to see your place," said the guide. We were led
first to the bath-room. There were two splendid and
perfectly clean white marble bath tubs, into which
could be made to gush in fiUl stieam an abundant
supply of hot and cold water. Into them every vis
itor, however dirty, was immediately put and thor
oughly scrubbed. The women alone protest ; they

170 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
hate to have their heads washed. Once cleaned, each
has a clean night shirt and is put into a cot bed.
Occasionally two boys sleep together. The cots are
of wood and can be turned up by means of a hinge
near the head, and aU about them they have the same
perfect cleanliness seen elsewhere. Every one has
four ounces of bread given night and morning, and
four of gruel in the morning. Men and women fre
quently return for the night's lodging. The police
send permits to all whom they find wandering in the
street. They had between sixty and seventy that
evening. And they had more comfort in appear
ance than in the lodging-houses of which I propose
to tell farther on. We went into the office in order
to inscribe our names in the visitors' books. There
was seen Dickens's simple signature, followed by that
of Cyrus W. Field, who evidently accompanied him
that evening. It was fitting that Dickens's name
should be there among the first in precedence, and
undoubtedly destined to be first honored — very
naturaUy as it seemed to me. The officer turned
back the leaves in order to show the unpretending
signature. As he pointed it out to us his forefinger
rested on the name of Cyrus W. Field. I was in
stantly reminded of the Roll of the Members of the
Royal Society, and that the name of the successor
of Sir Isaac Newton is wholly obUterated under the
repeated finger smutchings of a long line of visitors.
So Field's name, though worthy of kindred immor-
taUty, is destined to be annihilated at this casual
ward by the superior fame of the great novelist.

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 171
Is not this casual ward business a step in a worthy
direction ? The authorities here undertake to pro
vide shelter, and they make vi et armis men and
women clean. In thus doing, the health and morals
of the community are elevated. Why may not, by
an extension of the principle, and on the ground of
selE-defense too, the public authorities eventually
build houses, to be let at moderate prices and to be
kept, forcibly if necessary, clean ? We build school-
houses and give schooling, and are talking of giv
ing books free to the scholars. Surely the houses
in which the poor " live and move and have their
being " ought in Uke manner be cared for by the
pubUc ; if not for humanity's sake, then for the sake
of the pubUc health. Every vile and dirty house is
a plague spot, a centie of the abominable miasma of
contagion. When shall we fairly grapple with this
idea? Leaving the casual ward and the memories of
Charles Dickens, we retraced our steps a little, and
our guide said that he would carry us into the streets
and houses occupied by the thieves and burglars and
aU the most infamous in crime in the metropoUs.
It seemed rather a hazardous adventure, but we knew
we had EngUsh law tempered by kindness as our
support, and so, nothing daunted, we entered again
the low streets and alleys. We passed many long
and not very weU-Ughted ones. All, however, had
some gas. Almost everybody seemed out of doors,
as in the previous streets and lanes we had seen. I
observed that many were asleep. Two young per-

172 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
sons, apparently brother and sister, were there. Both
appeared to be in a midnight slumber, that is, it was
so deep that they did not stir at our approach, nor
did they notice the constant conversation going on
among the others standing or lying around them.
As I looked down upon this sleeping pair in White
chapel, not a trace of evU seemed marked upon them.
Simple wretched penury was there evident, and what
ever of vice may have stained them both during past
days, the thought suggested was only that of pity
for the necessity which compels any one so young to
live in such squalid poverty that the flagging-stone
of a sidewalk, even in a crowd, is more pleasant
than their own abode. These last, as I heard, were
filthy and fiUed with vermin ; but even here it
seemed to me that the beautiful traits of brotherly
and sisterly confidence and love were manifest.
The youth was lying on the stones, while the girl's
head rested on his breast, his arm thrown somewhat
aroimd her, as if in attitude of defense. Thus,
strange as it may seem to you, I could not help weav
ing a kind of Dickens's tale of heavenly hue around
the young sleepers as they thus lay in the purlieus
of crime under the starUght night. AU this seems
almost fooUsh to myself now, as I write it out ; and
yet, did I not have such hopes that even into the
very depths of poverty and crime God sends heavenly
rays of his purest Ught, I should be miserable at the
thought of the scene I saw there around me. I do
not remember whether I may not have mentioned
an old woman that our guide stopped in the middle

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 173
of the street not far from a gaslight. She was the
picture of poverty, age, and woes of all kinds. Her
voice was weak and her frame tottering ; she was
" going home " at about half past one a. m. ! She
knew our guide. He addressed her gently and asked
how she got along. I wondered why he kept her
there under our eyes. " Well, weU, good-night,"
he said in a cheerful tone ; and as we left her he
whispered, " That old woman is wholly alone in this
world : no relatives left, nor children, of whom she
has had no less than fourteen. AU, without a sin
gle exception, have been transported ! " Horrible, is
it not ? And what a tale of crime could that now
widowed, chUdless thing reveal if she wished so to
do ! Doubtless no mother could be so bereft and be
herselE innocent ; and alas, what an end ! In poverty
and crime, looking forward to death, stUl ever sur
rounded by crime and the same deviUsh influences ;
yet even here, I doubt not, God's bounty shines, and
in some way unknown to us Uluminates at times her
heart. Her face was by no means worse than many
I meet daily in Washington Street, and then too, how
wrong for us to give her nothing but blame ! Who
knows what were the early surroundings of the lit
tle girl sixty or seventy years ago ? Who knows
but that she grew up under the evU influences of a
Fagin or of a Dick Turpin ? Perhaps a father thief
or murderer greeted her every day and night with
curses. Did any one ever speak to her of the dear
Lord and the beauty of a noble Ufe ? What knew
she save of crime ? What knew she of the mercy of

174 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
men or of God ? So I have mused as I have thought
of the old trembling creature. Pity for her has arisen
in fuU streams at the remembrance that Christianity
has so Uttle real influence in our every-day dealings
with the poor and the criminal. I know this wiU
seem to the poUtician aU mere sentimentaUty and
nonsense. Nevertheless, I thank God I can feel so,
for I have f uU faith that some time my dreams wUl
be realized by others, even i£ I die, as doubtless I
shall, without reaUzing one iota of the hopes for the
future of humanity that press upon me when speak
ing of such life.
During our progress we had gone into several of
the public lodging-houses of the poor. They are
all imder the surveUlance of the police. They must
be kept clean and at least 300 cubic feet of air be
aUowed to each sleeper. GeneraUy they were neat
and very simple. The beds looked dingy, possibly
from London smoke. Cots were arranged in various
directions over the floor, and in them were lying
often HerciUean looking men, with bodies bare to
the waist, sleeping heavUy or quickly covering them
selves as we went among them. Queer, was it not,
that even with a police agent, I was able thus to in
trude myself at midnight into the sleeping-room of
any EngUshman, every one of whom claims even a
temporary home as his castle ? The reason why it is
borne is that, by this surveUlance of poUce, much
misery is really prevented. Each had his bed, and
we could not disturb that. That was his castle, and
defended by the whole power of EngUsh law, he

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 175
rested for threepence or sixpence per night, or one
shilling sixpence per week, in peace.
A large fire in the basement enables each man to
cook his own food. He uses his fingers or his own
jackknife whUe eating. The landlord cannot pro
vide knives and forks, for they are inevitably stolen.
Everything the sleepers can steal disappears, even
the brass stoppers to the wash basins go. Even
here, and at dead of night also, we saw a little
child rimning about. It was her home, and what a
home it must be ! We had seen nearly enough, and
as we came out of the last place we told our guide
so. We turned again toward home. The first per
son we met was a unique character, I must think.
A youth, thin and wiry, met us. Nothing very
marked appeared in his face. " Oh, are you here ?
When did you get out ? " said our leader. He then
entered into conversation with him, which we could
not hear. " WeU, remember the gentleman is stUl
ready to help you if you wUl behave yourselE."
" Thank you, sir," quietly repUed the young man
thus spoken to. " That young f eUow has been con
victed and sentenced nineteen times for thieving.
He seems to find it impossible to avoid stealing ; "
and we passed along our way towards the station.
" Oh, dear, dear ! let me die, let me die where I
am," were the words that rang piercingly down the
narrow street, at the end of which we were pass
ing. It was a female voice, and one conveying to.
our sharpened senses a certain degree of horror.
It seemed as if our walk was destined appropriately

176 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
to terminate in a murder. We instantly turned and
went towards the spot, a little distance off, where
we saw a small group, whence the sound had come.
We soon reached it, and found two men endeav
oring to raise from the sidewalk the drooping form
of a girl about twenty years of age. No consta
ble was there. The young men evidently knew
her, and they roughly spoke to her, teUing her to
"get up." At the same time they were almost
vainly trying to raise her. An old woman was
loudly swearing that it was too bad that " Crankie
Jim Shaw " had murdered her daughter ; that he
had struck her when she had said nothing to him,
etc. She immediately, and apparently with confi
dence, appealed to our guide. " Won't you have
him arrested ? " "I know aU about him," was the
reply ; and we tried to see the exact condition of the
young woman. Soon a constable, young and inex
perienced, appeared. He had no authority in his
manner and seemed scarcely to know what to do.
" Turn a light upon her, constable," said our guide,
" and let us see how much she is hurt." The Ught
of the dark lantern was suddenly thrown upon the
halE-raised figure. Her hair was disheveled and it
was thick with blood which had oozed from the right
temple. She was not wholly unconscious, though
she spoke not a word. The sight was horrible
enough. " Why do you not see to her," said our
guide. " Get assistance. Do you know me ? " rap
idly continued he. "No, sir." "WeU, I am Inspec
tor of the Police. See to her." The constable in-

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 177
stantly went his way to get the necessary attendance.
Meanwhile the old woman pleaded for the arrest of
" Crankie Jim," and the young men raised up the
poor creature and prepared to carry her into an ad
jacent house. We went our way, and soon I feU
to musing. The parable of the Good Samaritan
would force itself upon me, and I could not help
feeUng a hearty self-reproach. I ought as a true
physician to have followed and to have at least
washed the bleeding forehead. Would the dear
Lord have thus left even the Magdalen in sorrow and
pain without even an attempt to help her ? Even a
word of pity would have been something, but we
did nothing. I did simply as I always do — I shrink
from surgery. I knew that medical aid would prob
ably soon be at hand. I saw that no great artery
was rapidly bleeding. I should compel others, and
the guide, to wait longer. I knew we were aU very
tired and the hour was late. These and other sug
gestions flitted through my mind and I forebore to
do what I now regret, and shaU always regret that
I did not ; namely, listen to the promptings of the
spirit which indicated instantly what the duty of a
physician is under such circumstances. Alas ! alas !
how hard it is to be a real Christian at any time,
and yet how easy for us to get ourselves into plea
sant and, as we caU it, reUgious thought by fine
singing or preaching, whUe resting on cushioned
or wooden seats, whether in lofty cathedral or in
Quaker meeting-house.
So ends my walk with the police. I trust I have
VOL. n.

178 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
not tired you out. I write for myself in the future,
so skip all you vrish and preserve this letter for
myselE alone, to ponder over at times when I re
turn. At two and a half A. m., as the dawn was break
ing in the east, we reached Thorney Street. Fare
well, darlings I How thankful I am I was born un
der different uifluences from those I have attempted
to describe. How thankful I am that I have been
able to shield you from such horrors. But let us
aU learn a lesson of pity rather than anger at the
wrong doings even of those whose early lives are
subjected to such terrible scenes. Let each one of
us endeavor so to act that the world wiU be a Uttle
better, perhaps, when we die because we have Uved.
We are aU well and happy. God bless you.
Later he went to Newcastle, to attend a meeting of the
National Association for the Promotion of Social Science.
TO HIS WIFE.
Newcastle-tjpon-Ttne, September 24, 1870.
It has always been my theory, and I trust in
some measure at least my practice, that we should
always be stiiving to bring down into common,
every-day life these higher enjoyments. The more
we do so, the more we make home a heaven on earth.
The more of the mountain or of the seashore fresh
ness and Ufe we shed over our children, the more
will they love home. The more we put before them,
by our reading and by our talk, noble examples of
greatness and of goodness, the more wiU their dear

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 179
souls " given in trust to us " in their tender years,
become themselves noble and true and good and
reaUy pious. If I can get a holy thought from St.
Osric's shrine, shaU I not throw it before them
whom I love, while at the same time I also strive,
and do at times strive, to press that thought into
my own heart also ? I am only humbly acknowledg
ing my gratitude to that great, mysterious Father of
us aU, who has implanted in me this love of beauty
and of goodness for my best interests. " And so
endeth this discourse. Amen. Amen. "
Now for the doings of yesterday. At ten we
went to the general hall of meeting, in order to
hear Lord N  , Justice of the Supreme Court of
Scotland, deliver a general discourse on " Jurispru
dence and Amendment of the Law." You would
hardly suppose such a subject would iaterest me,
and yet I assure you that from beginning to end I
was charmed. It was fuU of genmne wit and wis
dom. He was evidently full to the brim of fun.
Would not Judge Putnam or Judge Gray and he
enjoy a bit of converse together? By a number of
queer anecdotes he iUustrated his various positions.
For example, in the NeapoUtan court, where the
jury always gave a verdict directly in opposition to
the ruUng of the judge, there was a question of
horse stealing. It was proved conclusively that the
defendant was seen in the barn where the horse was
tied at one hour, and at another place with the same
horse three or four hours afterwards. The learned
judge, in summing up the evidence, said : "It is

180 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
plain that the facts were exactly stated, and now the
question arises. Did the defendant steal the horse,
or did the horse steal the defendant ? " His honor
was incUned to hold the latter opinion, namely, that
the horse ran away with the man. The jury, vrith-
out leaving their seats, immediately rendered a ver
dict of " Guilty of horse steaUng." Again, in an
other case, a clansman had sworn that his laird, who
was accused of fighting against the king, had never
stirred a foot from his castle, when it was weU
known he had led his followers into the disastrous
fight. On his laird afterwards asking him how he
could reconcUe it to his conscience to swear to such
an abominable lie, he said : " Aye noo, laird, I wad
sooner trust my soul to the maircy o' God than
your neck to the ropes o' these troopers." Occasion
aUy, when he spoke of the eternal grand principles
of the law, and of the great merit of those noble
judges that have from century to century laid down
one by one these principles for the guidance of our
race, my heart swelled and I felt the real dignity to
which a human being, obedient to law, can rise.
Comprends-tu, ma chere ? I was glad to hear this
excellent discourse, for it proved an offset to the
weakness and insolence of some at the meeting of
the Section on Health. Sewage was again under
discussion. Rev. Mr. M  read, by means of an
other, a paper on his system. I was thunderstruck
when I found it had UteraUy stirred up a nest of
hornets. Among the most conspicuous was X  ,
a great, gross looking, brandy faced buUy. He caUed

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 181
Mr. M  a " quack," — a term he repeated sev
eral times. His manners were overbearing in the
extreme. I understand this is his usual deportment
to all that differ from him. He, the demigod, has
only to shake " his ambrosial curls and give the word,"
and aU must obey. I felt vehemently inclined to
" rush into the ring ; " but aU things are managed
so strictly here that a man has to send up his card
and wait his turn and speak but once, so that I re
strained myself, and Dr. F  and an Edinburgh
man floored (if such a mass of insufferable insolence
as Mr. X  could be floored) the scoundrel. Now
I have " let out ! " Heretofore, from his writings and
his sayings, I have taken for "law and gospel" every
thing that that man (gentleman is not the word to
apply) writes. Hereafter, after such violence and
ignoring of facts as he displayed, I shall decide by
the " doctrine of chances " whether what he says is
true or not. I have attended many meetings, but I
never have been so disgusted with any man as with
him. But he was only one. Don't imagine I get
nothing good here. On the contrary, I am learn
ing daUy. The English sanitarians have evidently
come to this, namely, that the " excreta " must aU
be carried off ; and some of the partisans pitch into
each other as the schoolmen did in their theological
discussions, as if their antagonists, though really
agreeing with them on the fundamental points, are
nevertheless fools and " quacks " because one pet
theory or another is apparently opposed. But let
them pass.

182 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
In the P. M. I went to a ladies' meeting. We
men had been specially invited because the subject-
matter for debate was about married women having
their own property under their own control, instead
of being, as now, under that of the husband. It ap
pears that the poor working-woman has already for
a small sum gained that by act of Parliament last
session ; but the ladies don't ask favors or gener
ous behavior, but simple justice, and the "agitation"
is to be continued at the next session of ParUament.
One person was very striking, viz., a Miss Todd, of
Ireland, a very inteUigent and quiet talking woman.
Her remarks on seconding one of the resolutions
were far superior to those of any man that spoke,
and that is saying a good deal, for there were two
male speakers ; but one was a perfect " f al-de-lal-de-
Uddle-0." I was quite ashamed of my sex, he was
so sophomorical. Lady B  , a thin, intellectual
looking person, very dignified, presided with great
skUl. Altogether, I came away quite impressed with
the idea that such women will do no harm to soci
ety or to themselves by mingUng in its public affairs.
On this occasion I was a decided Woman's Rights
man, although at Liverpool I " went in " for Hu
man Rights, in opposition to the Woman's Rights
platform. In the evening we went to meet the antiquary.
Rev. Mr. Bruce, at the old Norman castle. Strong
and solid it still rises, as it has for centuries. It
has borne the brunt of many battles, but has fought
its last fight. It is now under the care of the Soci-

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 183
ety of Antiquarians of Newcastle to make a mu
seum and library of it. He showed us the various
rooms and aU sorts of curiosities. The doctor
leaned on a delicate staff of poUshed oak that un
doubtedly was growing, or had already grown and
been overthrown, the year the dear Christ was born.
The old black oak chair in which the president of
the Antiquarians sits has the same date. They
were both found under the bog on which rested
the foundation of the earUest Roman bridge, which
was commenced in the early part of the second cen
tury ; and those trees from which the relics were
taken were large, evidently over a century and a half
older. Certainly it was a curious feeUng to place
one's hand upon anything that was so old, and
brought by the doctor's suggestion into such sweet
though, perhaps it may be said, distant relations to
us. And aU this was only an introduction to the peer
less walk of eight or ten mUes over the hUls just
below the Cheviot Range, and within sight of them,
which we took yesterday with Dr. B  , and dur
ing which we examined thoroughly the magnificent
remains of the so-caUed Roman waU. But these
more properly should be styled the grand series of
fortiesses united by the road and defended by a
waU which ran in former times from WaU's End
near Newcastle fairly across the country to CarUsle.
Of these splendid remains I wUl talk in my next. H.

184 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
TO HIS WIFE.
Newcastle, September 29, 1870.
This letter I have written to the bairns. As soon
as you have read it, send it to them. I hope it wUl
prove to one and aU that I have not forgotten them
in my long silence. To-day we finish with a visit to
Alnwick and a lunch in the castle of the Percys.
How can I help being stirred with the thought that
I am about to visit the home of a renowned race?
a race, too, that has been able to count in its line
many brave, honest, Uberal souls. Can I forget
whUe there that perhaps the chivalrous and high-
mettled Harry Hotspur often strode the very baro
nial haU in which we shaU be walking ? Can I not
draw from the old walls a new scorn for meanness
of soul ? Cannot Shakespeare stir me when he puts
into Harry's mouth the brave words : —
" And I will teU him so, for I will ease my heart,
Albeit I make a hazard of my head " ?
And so again : —
" I can teach thee, coz, to shame the DeU,
By telling truth : TeU truth and shame the Deil
If thou have power to raise him, bring Tn\-m hither,
And I 'U be sworn I have power to shame him hence.
Oh, while you live, tell truth and shame the Deil."
As I drew inspiration from Wilton House and
Bemerton Church, and aU those lovely places we
visited so lovingly together, so I anticipate " drink
ing deeply " at this seat of the Percys. But I must
not anticipate, but wUl merely teU you that I at-

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 185
tended last evening a pubUc meeting on the recent
act passed by ParUament, which is now beginning
to stir up the women of England, led by Miss Marti-
neau and Florence Nightingale. I went to see the
result, much doubting the expediency of the whole
movement, and greatly doubting, moreover, whether
any meeting could be conducted with propriety on
such a subject, with men and women taking part in
it. I was surprised, and I must say that I have
greater respect than ever for the innate modesty
and respect for real virtue observable in the common
people of England ; for in that vast, thickly packed
assembly there was not a single word spoken or cry
uttered that indicated any disrespect for women or
for the highest moraUty ; and I wiU say still further
that the deathUhe silence and wrapt attention of
that crowd of laborers to the gentle but noble words
of virtue and of a lofty reUgious faith, uttered by
Mrs. Butler, were beyond aU praise. As she stood
there, the perfect lady in dress, in graceful language
and gesture, and appealed for the fallen of her sex
to her former feUow-townsmen, I could only think
of the sonnet of Dante in which he describes the
almost divine influence of Beatrice.
Ever lovingly, H.
In consequence of the iUness of a dear friend, Mrs.
Abel Adams, then in Switzerland, and of a letter from
her requesting his presence as a physician, if possible, my
father made a hurried trip to the Continent in order to
escort Mrs. Adams back to England. It was during this
trip that he was fortunately enabled to visit Strassburg.

186 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCHBasle, October 13, 1870.
Here we are, perhaps embargoed for twenty-four
hours by the war difficulties. I thought it would be
so because of my own difficulty in getting along,
riding untU ten or eleven p. m. instead of four or five,
and with endless stoppages and detours. Louis, how
ever (the courier), being very sensitive, and moreover
very careful and thoughtful of every comfort of the
ladies, I suggest no changes, but leave aU to him.
He telegraphs, and always gets excellent rooms and
provides exceUent dinners and fine extra old claret,
real Burgundy, I should thiuk. I have risen in his
estimation wonderfully because I declared I had
never tasted such deUcious claret as he provided at
Fribourg night before last. It appears that it was
the real old genuine article and that I ought to have
been just so enthusiastic. It is true, I think, I feU
a little in his eyes when I did not recognize, and try
immediately on raising my glass, the " bouquet,"
I think they call the aroma coming from the real
thing. However, I raise his estimation each day
by not treading on his sensitive corns and by not
preventing him from making a " mutton pie " of
me. I now care nothing for luggage or tickets,
and generally I say, " Demit yah ! Some one wiU
take care of me and mine." And thus you see,
under Louis's discipUne, I have become more sub
missive in not working for myself than I have be
come under your dear labors for about thirty years
past.

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 187
Carlsruhe, October 14, 1870.
Nothing but the inspiration I always feel when
writing to you would indupe me to give the foUow
ing account of my visit to Strassburg a few days
only after its bombardment by the Germans. (Sur
rendered September 29.) The Adamses were kindly
disposed to my leaving them even for one or two
days in order to see the place. If I could not have
done it in one, I should not have visited it at aU.
Accordingly, yesterday morning, Louis, at the early
hour of 6.30 A. m., was ready to go with me to the
station and to buy a first-class ticket (on Mrs. A.'s
account, by her express commands) for Kehl. From
that place I should " easUy find my way to Strass
burg." I had been led to beUeve that the city was
only " just over the river," whereas it was distant at
least three miles. A crowd of visitors were on hand
at Kehl. Lines of vehicles of all kinds were also at
hand, and they were likewise of all kinds, — some
extemporized from wagons, etc. I declined all offers
and trudged on, having left my impedhnenta, as
Csesar has it, to be carried to this place by Louis.
The weather was fair ; the wind blew furiously.
Fortunately my soft hat, wedged in a determined
manner upon my crown, enabled me to avoid losing
my top gear, which I should inevitably have done,
had it not been for that blessedly comfortable felt
affair. As I walked through the streets even at
Kehl, I saw the dire effects of war. Numerous

188 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
houses bore the marks of baUs, and as for the main
station (a long and beautiEul buUding of stone and
brick), it was utterly ruined, and the waUs alone
stood partially. The clock's hands pointed to 3.30
as the hour when it finaUy ceased its work. All this
had been done by the fire from the citadel, in order
to pay back dearly the mischief caused by a battery
that had been planted on the German side. I was
among the first of a frantic crowd of Germans, aU
anxious to pay their one or two kreutzers and get
over the floating bridge which now alone conducts
travelers across the really rushing Rhine. I had
a silver piece that I thought sufficient and good.
" Nicht gut," was the reply by a fat, stoUd fellow.
I was thunderstruck. " Ich verstehe nicht," I knew
from experience would be the reply to any appeal I
might make to him either in French or German.
MeanwhUe a half dozen hands were thrust forward.
My neck was fairly embraced in quite a loving man
ner by those earnest seekers after admission to the
seat of the recent war. " It was Babel let loose."
I retired a Uttle to make another jump with another
sUver coin. That passed muster, and I again joined
the crowd of walkers and drivers across the floating
bridge of boats. The stream is magnificent ; awful,
in fact, for I thought that if I were once in, it
would be aU over with me. A splendid iron bridge
was just below, with the Imperial Eagle in iron
perched in the act of preparing to fly, with his beak
directed towards Paris. On the German side there
was " clink of hammers closing rivets up " whUe re-

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 189
pairing one large part of the structure, which had
been blown up in the early part of the war when the
Germans feared that the French would pass the
bridge into " Fatherland." It appears from this that
they had less hope of an offensive war than they
have since this terrible fight. The huge iron mass
which had been thrown up by the explosion was
lying half in and half out of the river, a shapeless
twisted ruin. Wholly new arrangements were being
made. I, of course, looked at all these things whUe
continuing steadUy on my course. I saw the cathe
dral spire, and although it seemed near, it reaUy was
a good way off, owing to the circuitous route the
road took. However, I did not regret my walk, ex
cept that the vrind being in my face made it rather
a difficulty to hold up against it. As I came up the
road, everywhere were seen marks of war's devastat
ing influences. Trees had been felled ; others were
cut with shot and sheU ; houses utterly demoUshed ;
nothing UteraUy but a heap of bricks and charred
wood. On the remnants of one I saw two or three
women. They were possibly seeking to find their
lost treasures. They were evidently acquainted with
the spot. Moreover, a temporary railing prevented
intruders from entering the premises. Along the
raUway I saw the evidences of its having been used
as an intrenchment. Baskets filled with earth and
pointed stakes stUl remained. It reminded me of my
horseback ride over the battlefield of Antietam. Not
far off from the road where this destiuction had
been going on, I saw a colored sandstone monument.

190 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
apparently uninjured. It had had, however, only a
lucky escape, for the top of one of the huge pillars
sustaining two soUd iron chains that surrounded the
monument had been fairly knocked to pieces by
shot, so that three feet to the one side or the other
would have hit the monument itselE. It had on it
these words : " Au General Dessaux. L' Armee du
Rhin. 1800."
It was erected by Napoleon I. at the faU of Des
saux at Marengo in 1800. Gardens were torn up ;
grapevines were laid low; cemeteries had their fences
wholly taken down and their crosses thrown in every
direction. As the walk became rather fatiguing, I
jumped on the top of one of the omnibuses and after
about half or three quarters of an hour approached
" Pont d'Austerlitz." This is entered over a draw
bridge, and by a second gate the city is fairly reached.
A moat surrounds the whole. It was evidently made
for soUd defense. Nasty odors arose from the par
tially dried-up grasses and dirty stuff that always
collects in such places. The hospital with its white
flag seemed uninjured. It was a large and weU-
buUt place just inside of the waU. Crowds were
everywhere in the streets. The shops were most of
them open, but nothing brUliant was seen in them.
Even the bakers had only one or two loaves in their
windows, placebos, so to speak, for hungry stom
achs. In the Place d' Armes was a large heap of
filth, bricks, and dirt of all kinds, and the carts were
still addiag to it. During the siege the inhabitants
were obliged to put various debris there, and now

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 191
they were only adding to it from various parts of
the city, in order at one fell swoop to carry all off at
once. I doubted the expediency of tipping up stink
ing manure in any part of the city, even for a mo
ment, now the Germans have possession ; but as I
was not commander, or on the Board of Health of
Stiassburg, I gave no advice. But this, and other
methods now followed by this people, proves that
however scientific and exceUent they may be, they
don't dislike smells, nor do they have any idea of
what cleanly comfort means. As the omnibus drove
along towards Place Kleber, where that famous
fighter stands iu pompous French style, I observed
that almost every house had been pricked more or
less. Some had lost a window ; others a blind ; on
others the roof was repaired recently; others had
huge holes, evidently from an immense ball having
stiuck and fairly passed through the thick wall,
bringing destruction to the innocent wife or sleep
ing, unconscious child. Others, finally, were utterly
gutted with marks of fire upon what remained of
the waUs. Some of the noblest of the private man
sions apparently had suffered in this way, and I
doubt if any pubUc building escaped. Certainly the
theatre, a beautiful museum, and priceless Ubrary,
with aU their treasures, are gone. The walls alone
stand. Arrived on the Place Kleber, I dropped down
from my omnibus, and found that large square filled
with Prussian troops. They are certainly a fine
looking set. I did not see a sinister face among
them, but generaUy they had a ruddy, wholesome.

192 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
homeUke expression about them ; very different
from the " devil-may-care," or worse, which the
French soldiers usually have. The city is, of course,
ruled with a rod of iron ; but I observed no swagger,
no airs of superiority, on the part of the conquer
ors. Policy as weU as prudence dictate this behav
ior. Still, did not these motives lead to quietness, I
believe the spirits behind those faces which I saw
would keep the holders of them full of selE-respect.
I was constantly reminded of Nat whUe looking at
those young warriors for the so-called " holy war "
[Heiliger Krieg fur Vaterland). I walked along,
but not alone, for the streets were crowded, and I
found, as I said above, I believe, most of the shops
open. At first the inhabitants refused to work, ex
cept, perhaps, at extravagant prices. The governor
soon put an end to that nonsense by ordering", under
pain of expulsion from the city for disobedience, aU
mechanics and laborers of every description to caU
at the mayor's office and be registered for work on
the public works for proper pay. He did that, he
said, to prevent idlers from giving public annoyance.
Another notice I saw, requiring all citizens to be in
their houses at eleven p. m., instead of nine p. m.,
ordered previously. Again, at one time every citizen
was obUged in the evening to carry a lantern. It was
curious to see the different proclamations aU on the
same board ; from Ulrich consenting to the French
mayor's continuing his functions immediately be
side one of these " state-of-siege " proclamations of
the German commander-in-chief. These things I

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 193
noticed as I stroUed along towards the Hotel de la
Paix. This, not far from Place Kleber, is a splen
did buUding with a front of extreme beauty. Fortu
nately this front escaped, while the back of the build
ing suffered. Two sentinels stood at its entrance, sp
that I doubted my right of entrance. However, I
presume they stood there because it was evidently the
headquarters of some notable person. I caUed for
potage and chops and was admirably served. I had
bespoken a " commissionnaire " to accompany me, but
he was not ready on my going out of the hotel, and
as I did not know whether he woiUd return, I stroUed
on towards the cathedral. I had studied the map
of the city and supposed that I should find it easy
to get to the citadel first, and accordingly went my
way. Immense and beautiful buUdings wholly ruined
met my eyes in many places. Apparently with re
finement of cruelty — and yet such is war — wher
ever a fire broke out the besiegers immediately made
that point their objective and threw " shrapnel,"
which brought death to all who attempted to put it
out. In theory at least, it was the object of Prussia
to demand surrender, or, in case that order was not
obeyed, to burn aU the inhabitants in their own
houses. Horrible, is it not ? Yet such is war, legiti
mate war ! It was considered 9. great feat for the
first Napoleon to elevate aU his guns, not upon his
enemies who were retreating across a frozen river,
but over their heads, so that the heavy balls, faUing
on the ice might break it, and thus ten or twenty
would be drowned where one would be hit. Yet

194 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
such is war ! I am wandering from my walk, and
also losing my way ; so I caU a nice looking laborer
who is picking up the broken limbs of trees cut by
the balls, and ask him to show me my way to the
citadel. As I go along I read the proclamation that
a man having been insolent to a soldier has been
shot, and the mayor warns the citizens to be careful.
Another had been kUled by the explosion of a sheU
which he had carelessly picked up, and people were
told to give information of aU such things to the
proper authority. Again, notice is given that the
Savings Bank had closed its doors, but hopes that
aU wiU come out right in a few days. On the the-
atie (walls only standing) I saw that the heads had
been knocked off from one or two of the statues
upon its front. Goethe and Moliere stand a poor
chance in times of war. My guide pointed after a
time at the citadel and then left me. I threaded
my way across the desolate space intervening be
tween it and the city, and passed boldly one sen
tinel who doubted my rights ; but as he seemed to
doubt his rights to stop me, I continued on through
one gate across the moat, and went calmly up to the
second gate ; but there the " crossed bayonets " met
me. I offered to pay, as I had heard that admission
was granted on payment of a certain sum that was
to be given to the poor of the city ; but no, I must
return through unknown parts to the " commandan-
ture " and get a " bUlet." Unfortunate H. I. B. !
Disconsolately he turned his back upon such people
and almost thought of giving up the matter. He

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 195
had seen inside. What was the use of doing more ?
He could see that aU the barracks were knocked into
one general " muddle." What was the use of par
ticularizing ? AU these arguments passed rapidly
through H. I. B.'s mind as he slowly retraced his
steps towards the first round-faced Teuton who had
meekly permitted him to enter. That worthy said
something in unintelUgible language, but it was
doubtless, " I told you so, my old fellow." I passed
by him in silence, but vowed that instant I would
return " armed and equipped as the law directs."
Accordingly, I hired a cab just outside the gate
and drove to the city, and "here my story be
gins." " VoUa tout ; " not a word could the driver
understand, and he evidently did not know where
the " commandanture " or even the " Hotel de la
Paix" was. FinaUy, he caught up a young lad
who understood French, and by his aid I got to
the hotel. I determined there to start afresh vrith a
" commissionnaire." The rascaUy driver undertook
to charge five francs for a fifteen minutes' drive,
possibly one and a half mUes, and the sentinel
did not dispute the idea. At the risk of being ar
rested, I gave two francs and rushed into the hotel
and sought my gargon who had brought my lunch.
He took my part, and soon I was on my way again,
with a voluble speaking " commissionnaire," to the
place to get " bUlets." Arrived, after rather a long
walk, at the entrance again, I met my Teuton with
a smUing face, and he smUed in return, and reaUy
seemed quite contented at my success. I soon

196 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
passed the second gate. I was in an immense en
closure of several acres, capable of holding several
thousand soldiers. Around and through it had been
erected fine stone buildings several stories high for
barracks and various offices, estaminet, etc. Streets
were laid out, large gardens fiUed with grapevines
and fruit-trees, vegetables, and flower beds were
there, and yet there was most perfect desolation.
The houses were a mass of shapeless ruin ; not a room
was left ; only in the casements was there a place to
stay ; but even these " bomb-proof " spots had to be
defended by large heaps of sand bags fuUy stuffed
and piled closely one upon another. The gardens
were ripped up ; grapevines were torn down. Every
where was " litter ; " soldiers' cast-off clothing, bits
of broken shell, dirt and filth of every kind. A
perfect hell must have reigned there when the Prus
sians from three or four different positions poured
shot and sheU at night into the place. It must have
been awful ! I walked on the ramparts, or rather
ran around them. These were everywhere torn up,
but I did not see anywhere so great a breach as I
had expected. Perhaps for want of time I could
not see all, for as I looked from their top the other
means of defense outside of this main citadel seemed
immense. This gives one an idea of the genius of
Vauban, who built it two centuries ago. The Prus
sians wUl restore it and keep it, and they ought to
do so, unless they have confidence enough in their
free institutions and universal instruction to be wiU
ing to give up such forts. But whUe we do not dis-

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 197
mantle the forts of our harbor, we cannot ask Prus
sia either to dismantle this fortress or to give it up,
especiaUy as Strassburg was stolen in the time of
perfect peace by that great monarch, Louis XIV.
As I stood on the ramparts I could not help think
ing that even A  would say that for Prussia to
have done so much and suffered so much, and then
to give up a citadel to be used as an eternal menace
to the opposite shore of the Rhine, would be utter
f oUy. When I came out my " commissionnaire "
had gone. I suppose he was gossiping with some of
the laborers not far off, and, not wishing again to
come in contact with my old enemy of five-franc
memory, I made a " bee line " alone for the cathedral
spire. Again in the narrow streets I could not see
it, but going up to an old and fine looking officer
I asked my way. " Tout droit, monsieur," and I
gladly went in and soon arrived at the side door of
the cathedral. I was shocked to see how near this
noble buUding had come to utter destruction. The
finest two of the windows are intact ; almost all the
rest are more or less broken. The roof is pierced
with numerous smaU baUs, or holes at least, through
which the sky shows itself. In one place a rosette
forming the keystone is exactly thrown out, leaving a
round space, only smaUer, like that of the Pantheon
at Rome. The beautiful organ at its upper part is
wholly destroyed. The clock is stopped, but they
say it is not much injured. The moment I entered I
stood looking around to get the first general effect,
when " thud " came a piece of the fretted carving

198 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
of a vrindow high above me. It had been broken
by a ball, and the high wind loosened it. It feU
within a foot or two of a lady, and the way she flew
to the other side of the church was very natural,
yet at the same time excited my laughter " in my
inside." The hoarse-voiced priests were chanting
vespers, whUe crowds of curious visitors were stroll
ing about the church. It seemed like mockery of
reUgion. I soon left it with the feeUng that the
church richly deserves the reputation it has long
enjoyed, and I could not be thankful enough that
such a gem as that had not been more injured. 1
went outside. I saw where one huge baU must have
pitched upon it. I saw the spire and it seemed un
injured, but one who knew better said that the cross
that surmounted it hangs now by the lightning rod.
Fearing to get late I soon left, went to my hotel, and
prepared to walk back to Kehl.
Issuing from the city gates, I met a gentleman,
who proved to be a physician from Lausanne. Un
der his kind care, he understanding German, I went
along finely. We got into a cart extemporized to a
carriage and drove to the river. That crossed, we
were politely, and without any pay being demanded,
invited to pass through a roughly made passage
way three or four hundred feet long. We did not
know why we were thus honored, especiaUy as a broad
street was open to us. I had smelt the wretched
place in the morning, and had passed as far from it
as possible. I grieve to say that neither nose nor
sight were agreeably impressed, for in addition to a

TOUR IN EUROPE, 1870 199
terrible smeU of chloride of lime, we were greeted
with a terrible sight of eight or ten vessels aU fiUed
vrith a disinfectant fluid, and suggesting anything
but agreeable associations. Seriously, was there ever
anything so extremely absurd as this fumigation, for
perhaps two minutes, of each person who leaves the
lately beleaguered city, and may be supposed to have
brought away with him some infection ? And all
this while they are stiU pUing up inside the waUs
the nastiness that has gathered there, when they
should be carrying it out of the city. After de
lays of an hour and a half, I arrived about eleven
at Carlsruhe. My fame had preceded me. I was
received with honor as Count " Demidoff." I caUed
for tea and toast. Was asked whether they should
awaken my " domestique," to which I tranquUly re
pUed it was unnecessary. I retired to a warm bed,
and so ends my history. . . .
Upon their return to America in November, my father
and mother came again to the home in Boylston Street,
where, with the exception of a few weeks in every sum
mer, they continued to reside for the remainder of their
Uves.

CHAPTER XXIV
MEDICAL WOEK
When we recaU the fact that my father held his pro
fessional duties paramount to aU other caUs upon his
time and strength, it seems fitting that we should now
turn to his most important labors in the field of medicine,
foUowing that of paracentesis, aUusion to which has been
made in a previous chapter.
In June, 1854, the Massachusetts Medical Society re
quested him to make a report at a subsequent meeting
upon the question of the distribution of consumption in
Massachusetts. In his reminiscences of my father, Dr.
WiUiam Henry Thayer writes : —
" The report on ' Soil Moisture ' as a prominent element
in the production of tubercular disease, which he presented
to the Massachusetts Medical Society in 1862, was the
result of years of patient investigation. His own obser
vation of the relation of one to the other led him to un
dertake to obtain the general experience. He addressed
a circular of inquiry to some physician in every town in
Massachusetts. Failing to get repUes from aU at first, he
wrote again to those towns from which he had obtained
no answer, and continued to write again and again until
he had received reliable returns from every one. This
may be considered the greatest scientific work of his life,
and certainly iUustrates well his thoroughness and perse
verance in what he undfertook. Some of his cases made
him suspect that tubercular disease was contagious, and he

/ r /95

MEDICAL WORK 201
published a paper on the subject with cases ; ^ but it was
some years later that the fact was established and the in
fectious agent was discovered by the microscope."
In accordance with these views upon soil moisture, which
he held for the rest of his life, he never failed to make
rigid inquiries of his patients as to the character of the
soil upon which they lived, in many cases insisting upon
a removal to some dry locality if he found evidences of
excessive moisture and a lack of sunlight in the houses.
That such methods were foUowed by success in families
showing a predisposition to consumption, he was able to
prove in many cases.
In a preface to his published pamphlet entitled " Con
sumption in New England," he states that in consequence
of his investigations he believes not only that residence
upon a damp soil is a very potent factor in the production
of consumption, but that the converse is equally true, that
residence upon a dry soil is not only unfavorable to the
production, but aids in the cure of consumption. He
then adds : —
How such effects are produced I do not and can
not pretend to explain. I am incUned to beUeve
that the explanation wUl remain long, if not forever,
among the arcana, of which so many exist in our
apparent knowledge of the causes of disease.
Again, in conclusion, he says : —
I ask practicing physicians in New England and
elsewhere to examine thoroughly these doctrines and
facts by the Ught of weU-recorded statistical data in
1 " Is Consumption ever Contagious ? " A paper prepared for
the Boston Society of Medical Observation. David Clapp, 1864.

202 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
their own townships, and iE they will prove me to be
in error I wiU be the first to acknowledge it.
Curiously enough, as it not infrequently happens when
special investigations are being made, Dr. Buchanan of
England was working in simUar directions in his own
country, and subsequently published his views, which co
incided precisely with those of my father, neither writer
being aware previously of the other's intention. In con
sequence of this work, a most cordial and lasting friend
ship was established between the two men, and their con
clusions have been practicaUy accepted by the medical
world, the discovery of a specific germ of this disease, the
bacillus tuberculosis by Koch several years later, having
in no way weakened, but rather strengthened the original
hypothesis. A letter from Dr. Buchanan in 1890 aUudes
to this fact.
L. G. B.
December 16, 1890.
My DEAE De. Bowditch, — I have been waiting to
acknowledge your affectionate greeting in the hope of
being able either to send you my own new report or to
tell of the receipt of your pamphlet ; but I must not fur
ther delay to write, as I want you to have a New Year's
congratulation from your old friend on this side of the
Atlantic. Accept, I pray, my very warmest good wishes
for you in the coming year, and for every year that you
remain with this " minority " and give it the happiness of
numbering you among them. John Simon bids me add
his own best wishes for your " having the happy old age
he so weU deserves." He reminds me of his having asso
ciated our two selves, in connection with our studies of
phthisis etiology, in his book on " EngUsh Sanitary Insti
tutions ; " and I found it on page 305 of that volume. To
think that those studies are some quarter century ago I

MEDICAL WORK 203
Simon " need not say " — and says it accordingly —
that he agrees with your friend that bacillus makes no
deduction from the truth of our joint discovery. Our
workers in continental Europe about phthisis seem to
have fairly lost their heads, and England and even
America seem foUowing this hysterical lead.^ I have a
strong notion that Koch has reaUy got hold of important
pathological facts that have applications far beyond tu
bercle ; and it is a thousand pities that he should be put
by his admirers into a false position, and be made to look
(like themselves) deficient in common sobriety. I have
laughed at English newspapers for ignoring elementary
logic in their articles upon Koch ; but I am told by people
who have visited Berlin that these newspapers truly repre
sent the attitude of the German medical profession at the
present moment ; that they reaUy seem off their heads.
Once more a cordial handshake and loving message
from your friends in England, most of aU from your very
sincere friend,
George Buchanan.
27 Woburn Square.
In regard to the contagiousness of consumption, he
takes, in the pamphlet aUuded to in Dr. Thayer's reminis
cences, rather the middle ground. Basing his own views
upon his large clinical experiences long before the dis
covery of Koch, which establishes undoubtedly the commu-
nicabUity of tubercular disease under certain conditions,
he at that time advocated the necessity of strict hygienic
care for all those who were in constant attendance upon
consumptives, believing that there is evidence of the disease
having been at times given by one person to another when
in constant and close communication with each other. At
1 This refers to the extraordinary excitement produced by Koch's
first announcement of Tuberculin as a curative agent in consump
tion. — Ed.

204 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
the same time, he was unable to agree with the extreme
views of a certain number who were inclined to believe
that consumption should be classed as one of the most
infectious of diseases.
In this pamphlet he gives an exhaustive review of the
opinions of noted medical men from the time of Galen.
The study of the paper is interesting if for nothing more
than to show that in the history of medicine the pendulum
of medical opinion seems to swing from one extreme to the
other before definite conclusions are reached.
In 1863, when Professor of Clinical Medicine at the
Harvard Medical School, he gave the valedictory address
to the graduating medical students. It was entitled " An
Apology for the Medical Profession as developing the
Whole Nature of Man."
Were it not that by a vote of the class he was requested
to present them with a copy of his address, I should hesi
tate to express my own opinion of it ; but their evident
approbation wiU perhaps relieve me of the charge of filial
prejudice when I say that I know of no address to any
class of students that is upon a loftier plane than this.
Filled with the spirit of those stirring times in the his
tory of the civU war, he infuses his own intense feeling
into his utterances in a way that could not have failed to
move the most unimpressionable of his auditors ; and the
perusal of the address now leaves the conviction that the
words came from the heart of one who, having the highest
ideals for his own professional life, wished to hold those
same ideals up to his younger associates just crossing the
threshold of their medical career.
It would be out of place to quote at great length from
this address, and yet I cannot refrain from making a few
extracts. The following letter is in reply to the request from the
class for a copy of his address : —

MEDICAL WORK 205
March 13, 1863.
Gentlemen, — It has seemed to me a matter of
doubt whether it would be proper to publish an ad
dress which was written and spoken to you much
as I should have talked to you at my own office
upon the experiences of my own liEe. Such a com
munication seems rather Uke a confession and is
scarcely fit for the public eye. Nevertheless, as you
ask for it, I give it into your control exactly as
written. I remain, very sincerely your friend,
Heney I. Bowditch.
extracts from the address.
Gentlemen op the Geaduating Class, —
Were I to foUow my own impulses, I would adopt
the laconic but admirable speech once made by a
learned Greek professor of Harvard to a class of
students about to leave Alma Mater, as you are
about to leave us : " You have done weU ; I wish you
weU." But such brevity is not aUowed me. In truth,
it woiUd indeed be strange iE we, who have been so
long intimately connected in the study of our art,
which in old Greek phrase is " of aU arts the most
noble," could not spend a few moments in plea
sant converse together. Nor does it seem inappro
priate that one who by long experience knows the
fate that betides most of the periods of professional
life should at a time Uke this utter some words of
cheery hope, or perchance of warning, to his juniors
starting on their various pilgrimages. . . .

206 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
I propose, therefore, The Medical Profession ;
its noblest aspirations ; the fair opportunities it
offers for the development of the whole nature of
man ; its highest duties as connected with such op
portunities. . . .
What should each one of you hold up before
himself as the highest ideal of professional liEe ?
After urging them to feel that neither riches, honor,
" as the world uses the term," power, nor professional
success is the chief thing to be desired in a physician's
life, he says : —
If you question the deepest recesses of man's na
ture, you wUl find that every human being desires —
First. The enjoyment of the outward world expe
rience and a perfectly healthful physical existence.
Second. He tends to friendship and love, and to
that exercise of aU those kindly emotions that cluster
around the human heart. Third. He longs for the
culture, growth, and free employment of his intellect.
Fourth. Man tends, whether he vriU or not, as truly
as the needle to the magnetic pole, at some periods
of his earthly career — it may be during only the
last few moments of it — toward faith or a religious
Ufe. In speaking of the realm of the emotions in their ten
dencies to improve, repress, or modify man's development,
he says : —
I would that I could give you even the faintest
idea of what I feel that I have gained by my pro
fession, in that it has given me numerous oppor-

medical work 207
tunities of studying closely the kindly influence of
suffering and disease upon the sick, and upon all
who minister to them.
He then relates at length a most touching incident of
which he was the witness during the civil war, of the
beautiful devotion of a young Zouave to his mortaUy
wounded comrade.
A sort of Nisus and Euryalus friendship it really
was, and as richly worthy of immortaUty from poet's
heart and pen as that which the Mantuan bard has
so sweetly sung. The young nurse was forever near
the bed of his dying companion and springing to
his aid at the sUghtest intimation. On one occasion
we were dressing the wound and necessarUy causing
much pain, so that groans were wrung from the
patient. His comrade seemed almost frantic with
his eager sympathy. He flitted constantly around
and in aid of the surgeon, ever and anon leaning
over and murmuring into the ear of the sufferer soft
words of consolation and hope; I certainly never
shaU forget it. . . .
Why detail to you these things ? What have
they to do with a valedictory address to medical stu
dents ? Two reasons have I for bringing them be
fore you. Similar events, modified by circumstances
of time and place, you wiU constantly meet with in
your future professional career; and by relating
even imperfectly these unique scenes, I would lead
you to open, not only your eyes, but your whole
natures, to all similar purifying influences. We are
made better men by being allowed to see them. . . .

208 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
Later he says : —
I now turn to the influences of our profession upon
the intellect of man. . . .
Of course every man, if he read at all, wUl en
deavor to keep up with the medical science of the
day. I would earnestly advise you, however, not to
limit yourselves to this phase of Uterature. A wise
and liberal culture enjoins upon you a wider circle.
Shakespeare will teach you human nature in a man
ner that no other writer can. Dickens, and others
of similar stamp, wUl warm your hearts toward the
miserable and poor, with whom you will be thrown in
contact, especially during your earlier years of prac
tice. Let broad farce, too, and keen humor have
their places. I think a fine comedy helps diges
tion, and it wiU enable you to laugh off some of the
whims of nervous patients. What grander appeals
to independence and manliness of character, — what
more touching warnings than can be found in
Burns ! Who does not walk more erect after read
ing Tennyson's grand dirge of the nation at the death
of Wellington, the warrior, the statesman, the man of
power ? The mild genial phUosophy of the " Ex
cursion," showing, as it does, how much there is of
real beauty in some of the commonest acts of daUy
life, has been of infinite service to me ; and it is my
firm belief that I am now a better practicing physi
cian because Wordsworth has Uved and has sung
out his rich human notes from his poet's nook in
Cumberland.

MEDICAL WORK 209
Read, then, not only medical, but as far as possi
ble, good works in all departments of literature and
science ; and permit me to add, that now is the ap
pointed hour, the golden season of your Uves. Ac
cept, then, vrith joy this God-given privUege of lei
sure, and sow broadly the seeds of your future growth.
Ere many years you wiU find cases accumulating,
and the much-coveted business encroaching upon
time. Then the scanty moment for reading wUl have
to be snatched from toUing, almost drudging life,
only at the dead of night. Lose not, I beg of you,
these few precious years, now opening before you,
during which, perhaps, you vriU have few patients
and many weary hours, unless, with strength of wiU,
and inteUigently, you wring from them the means
for your own nobler development for all future time.
I pass now to the last and most difficult, but the
most important part of our subject.
What influence ought the profession you have
chosen to have upon your reUgious character, and
what are your most important duties connected there
with ? Of course, I can merely glance at a few of the
considerations naturally connected with these top
ics. As I have already hinted, when commencing
this address, I beUeve as firmly as I believe anything,
that every human being, whether wise or simple,
good, bad, or indifferent, tends as certainly toward
faith, or some religious belief, as he does toward
death. No man, unless he be demented, can ap
proach that final point of mortal life without being
VOL. n.

210 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
compelled to think of that Divine and Supreme
Ruler under whose laws he first drew breath of life,
and in submission or opposition to whose laws he has,
like a wise man or a fool, Uved. At that hour, i£ at
no other, aU the shams of his previous career show
their utter nothingness, and he bows in reUgious
faith or fear to meet the impending fate. But thrice
blessed is our profession, because the practice of it,
if pursued in a truly loyal manner, tends to raise
the physician, early in his career, to the broad and
reaUy cathoUc beUef that there is a wise and hu
mane Father who governs aU things rightly, though
often darkly to our most Umited powers of percep
tion. This view, I know, is very different from that oft-
repeated Ubel, made usuaUy by bigots, that medicine
tends to materialism, infideUty, and atheism. What
monstious absurdity ! Can any man dissect the hu
man neck, or examine minutely the marvelous work
ings of the human hand ; can he watch the mysteri
ous wandering of the microscopic germs, seeing and
yet reaUy not seeing their real processes of growth ;
can he watch, hour after hour, the wonderful revolu
tions of those apparently mere masses of granules,
and observe how life and muscular action are mys
teriously and inexplicably evolved during this simple
motion ; can he do and see all these things and be
at the same time an atheist ? Out upon such arrant
nonsense ! . . .
After a brief and stirring appeal to the patriotism of
his hearers, he then concludes his address as foUows : —

MEDICAL WORK 211
Gentlemen, I would not only have you esteem
highly the profession you have chosen, but likewise,
Uke true patiiots, ever raise aloft the sacred banner
of our country, made more sacred now that it has
inscribed upon its ample folds, in letters of Uving
light, " Freedom to every slave." Honor aU who
fight to sustain it ; and deal gently, as with a bro
ther's hand and heart, with the brave and dear ones
who faU wounded in its defense. Do not, I beg of
you, regard them merely as interesting cases for your
professional skUl ; but bring the fact home to your
hearts that they have, in reality, been fighting for
you, and for the nation's Ufe, and, whether they have
thought so or not, fighting for human freedom.
Therefore, you owe them an immense debt of grati
tude. WhUe commanding their respect, let them be
compeUed to give you their love for your kindness
as weU as skill . I know of no nobler field than that
now offered to a young and enthusiastic surgeon in
the volunteer army of the United States, provided
he duly appreciates the grandeur of the contest
now going on, and honors, as he should be honored,
every wounded son of the Union. Oh, friends,
young brothers, think of these things when, afar off,
whether on the Western prairies, or in the sunny
South, you have dealings with the suffering soldier.
Bear ever with your steady, manly, surgeon's hand
a tenderness worthy to be remembered with that
shown by the youthful Zouave for his dying com
rade. Thus acting you will do honor to yourselves,
to us, and Alma Mater. Above aU, whUe doing your

212 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
duty to God and to man, you wiU raise in the eyes
of all beholders our " most noble art of medicine."
Gentlemen, fareweU.^
My father was much interested in the growth of the
American Medical Association from the time of its birth.
He believed in the broadening effect of these meetings
upon those who took part, and frequently spoke of the in
fluence for good which the friendships thus formed had
had upon his own Hfe.
The unfortunate bickerings which arose in later years
upon the " code of ethics " were a source of sorrow to him,
but fortunately he lived to see the breach between the
warring factions healed and harmony restored.
From earliest times in the history of the medical edu
cation of women, my father advocated the cause. In con
sequence, he frequently found himself in a minority, but
opposition seemed only to fire him to more strenuous
efforts. In a letter to his famUy from Cincinnati, at one of the
meetings of the American Medical Association in 1867, he
graphically describes his experience when the subject was
broached as foUows : — CiNcmNATi, May 9, 1867.
I have mentioned S  and must not forget my
self, for I disgusted the Association by my views on
" women doctors." You see I am always " lugged
in " and have to bear the brunt of battle for an un
popular idea. I can't help it ; I cannot sit by and
see an honest cause abused and spit upon without at
least protesting.
1 This address was given to the students just one week before the
death of his son Nathaniel.

MEDICAL WORK 213
On the second day of the meeting. Dr. Washing
ton L. Atlee of Pennsylvania introduced a resolu
tion, the burden of which was that in the case of
educated women our code of medical ethics should
be interpreted in the case of female practitioners as
we interpret it for male physicians. I saw a bomb
shell had come. Instantly there was a commotion,
and as we were about to have a very interesting pa
per from Dr. Ray, previously agreed Upon for that
hour and for which we were all assembled, I sprang
up and moved to lay the subject on the table. At
the same time, I said nothing except to tell Dr. A.
that, though I should not have brought up the sub
ject, I was not opposed to it. On the last day of the
session Dr. A. brought this question up again and
moved the " previous question," but some of the
opponents evidently wanted to pitch into it and de
precated this stopping of debate, and so he withdrew
it and the battle began. That extraordinary man
who, to say the least, had to Uve in Canada during
the RebeUion, but whom we have brought into no
toriety by expeUing him at the meeting in Boston
and afterwards eating our words and soaping him
with flattery ever since — this man arose to address
the meeting. I would remark that he is a lady's
man. He waltzes divinely on his Uttle feet, which
are infinitely smaU and fairly proportioned. He
took the floor. With winning grace, he proclaimed
somewhat in this wise : —
" Where I come from no man accuses me of not
being a lady's man, but, Mr. President, this proposi-

214 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
tion I cannot consent to. Why, Mr. President, only
think of a young lady sitting down to study and
bending over a microscope ! It is an absurdity, Mr.
President. A young lady that studies anatomy un-
sexes herselE, Mr. President."
And so he went on vrith about as much twaddle
and self-complacency as a cock-a-doodle-doo lord of
the creation ever exhibited. He having fiuished.
Dr. Davis of Chicago, with his killing coldness but
pure logic, " hoped that we would not waste time in
talking on subjects of this kind ; that physiological
laws would take care of themselves ; " and moved,
apparently in order to stop and cover in eternal si
lence the whole subject, that it be referred to the
Committee on Medical Ethics. My heart (as vice-
president I was sitting on the platform in the pre
sence of all) had been thumping hard, and I knew
that forbode an " explosion " from the mouth of the
" explosive individual ; " and amid loud cries of
" Question," " Question," I sprang to my feet. The
din increased. 1 felt then " as calm as a clock."
" Mr. President," I thundered out, " what is the
question ? " That produced silence, as I felt it
would. The president named it. " Very weU," I
repUed, " I wUl speak to it." I then said somewhat
in this wise, and aU the while felt " as cool as a cu
cumber," for I knew I was right, and that my oppo
nents were wrong. I felt Uke a prophet and sure
that what I was then and there about to proclaim
would eventually be the action of the profession,
although now the proposition was despised.

MEDICAL WORK 215
" Mr. President, / should not have introduced
this subject into this meeting. I feel that this
assembly is not in a fit state of mind to discuss it.
Nevertheless, as it is introduced, and as I moved to
lay it on the table yesterday because out of order
then, I now feel caUed upon to say that I approve of
the principle contained in the resolution, and I want
the committee to know that some, at least, approve
of it. Born as I was under the atmosphere of
Northern liberty, I have always claimed the right
to foUow any profession or trade I saw fit to pursue.
Guided by that principle, I dare not restrain any
man or any woman in the pursuance of that form
of study or trade he or she may see fit to pursue.
The question has nothing to do with ' physiological
laws.' The sole question is whether we wUl recog
nize honorable, weU-instructed women as we do our
own sex. For my part, I know there are such women.
Two at least are now Uving in Boston who, for
honorable deportment, original powers of mind, and
sound culture in and knowledge of our profession,
can stand by the side of any on this floor. Nay
more, gentlemen ; I say that in some branches of the
profession they can fiU a place better than men."
I then stated two instances of young and delicate
females, one of whom had been for three years a hope
less bed-ridden child, under our sex. Both of these
I saw ; and finding these facts, and recognizing that
some local trouble must exist, I transferred them
and actually advised them to consult with these two
female practitioners.

216 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
I might in the estimation of the meeting have vio
lated our code of medical ethics, although I did
not think so. I felt that I had done rightly. Both
patients have been whoUy cured. The distant mut
tering of thunder I had observed, but I had kept
the assembly quite quiet until this, when an out
burst of " Question ! " " Question ! " and some
hisses greeted my ear ; but I had " said my say,"
my heart had become quiet and " merry as a mar
riage bell," and I was satisfied. I was not a sneak,
at any rate, as I should have been had I, for fear of
rebuke, kept sUence. On the contiary, between you
and me, I knew, and heard afterwards from many,
that I had " uttered one good word for truth and
justice," and I retired, not, it must be admitted,
"amid a storm of tumultuous applause," as the
happy orator likes to go, but with the entire approba
tion of the " stiU smaU voice " that always standeth
by me in the hour of hard work, provided I do what
I think is my duty. Now I know you do not love me
less for this escapade of the " impulsive individual."
In another letter he writes : —
But I am sure that the gathering has been, like
its predecessors, useful. It has set men to thinking.
It has rubbed down angularities. It has promoted
friendships. For myselE it has been a real boon to
rest in the deUghtful home of the Larz Andersons.
On Saturday I met Longworth and had a nice talk
with bun and saw some of his Auerbach pictures. In
the afternoon I drove with Mr. and Mrs. Anderson
to Walnut HUls, a most perfect drive. Saw Mrs.

MEDICAL WORK 217
Perkins in her sweet abode. Saturday evening had
a talk vrith Captain Anderson. He was with Sherman
in his progress to Atlanta.
The captain told me also about Dr. Mary A.
Walker, now making some stir in England. She
visited the front, at first, to lead like Joan of Arc.
Finding no one to accept her as such, she tried to
be a nurse, but that did not go, and finaUy she be
came a spy and was carried to Richmond. How
much good she did I never learned. The captain
evidently had no faith in her.
On Sunday I attended church with Mr. and Mrs.
A. Mrs. A. charms me more every day. In the
evening I was in a sleeping car bound for Cleveland
and Buffalo. I parted with the two with great re
gret, but home called for me, and I was on my way.
Splendid car ! . . . H.
On September 16, 1869, the gentlemen commissioned
by the Governor and Council to constitute the " Massa
chusetts State Board of Health " met for organization at
the State House.
It consisted of seven members : Messrs. Richard Froth-
ingham of Charlestown, P. Emery Aldrich of Worcester,
Wm. C. Chapin of Lawrence, Warren Sawyer of Boston,
Dr. Eobert S. Davis of Fall River, Dr. George Derby and
Dr. Henry I. Bowditch of Boston. It devolved upon my
father to caU the meeting to order and to suggest a plan
of action for the board.
At a subsequent meeting (September 22) he was made
chairman and Dr. Derby, secretary.
This action on the part of the state legislature was
peculiarly gratifying to my father. With his strong be-

218 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
lief in the wisdom of " preventive medicine," he foresaw
in the appointment of this board the consummation of his
wishes, and with characteristic ardor he threw himself into
the work heart and soul.
He retained the position untU the foolish policy of com
bining the three Boards of Health, Lunacy, and Charity
under one head compeUed him to resign in 1879, after
vain efforts to induce Governor Butler to restore the
board to its former position.
In a sketch made by my father in October, 1887, of the
birth and growth of the Board of Health, he says : —
Its origin was somewhat in this wise : In 1866 a
committee of the House of Representatives reported,
April 2, that it was "inexpedient to estabUsh a
state board of health," which report the House ac;
cepted. Private individuals ^ had urged the necessity
for such a board before the above date, and doubt
less afterwards, but nothing efficient was done untU
1869. Hon. Thomas H. Plunket of Pittsfield was
then leader of the Democratic party, and his influ
ence carried the measure through the House. But
we owe it to the excellent influence of his intelUgent
wife that the Democratic orator acted in the matter.
She had read in my address before the Massachusetts
Medical Society the foUowing appeal to the society :
" What ought the profession which should be the
guardian of the public health — what ought we in
our respective locaUties to do ? We are bound not
to let the legislature have peace from our annual
petitions untU investigations similar to, but more
thorough than that which I have presented to you
1 Samuel Shattuck, Dr. Jarvis, etc.

MEDICAL WORK 219
in this address shaU be made, on the topographical
distribution of aU diseases, by an able and appro
priately elected state board of health. I may seem
unduly earnest, but it appears to me that our society
could not do a better act — one that eventually will
be of more service not only to the inhabitants of
this State, but, by its example, to other states — than
by united and persistent efforts to induce the state
authorities to establish such a board of health, by
whose agencies aU these great questions, now so
utterly ignored, may be investigated."
These words were delivered in 1862. We had to
wait seven years, for it was not tUl 1869 that Mr.
Plunket led all his party to the establishment of the
board, on the wise argument that " it is cheaper to
try to prevent rather than to fail to cure diseases."
May 24, of the same year. Dr. Estes Howe,
from the joint committee on Mr. Plunket's resolu
tion, reported in favor of the measure giving the
board power to investigate and advise on sanitary
matters throughout the State, but with no power to
direct or actively to interfere. June 21 a bUl was
passed. The Governor selected three physicians,
one lawyer, one civil engineer, an historian, and one
business man as members of the board. Their first
meeting was September 15, 1869, and from that
time till 1879, when that most unvrise merging of
it in the Board of Health, Lunacy, and Charity took
place, our board was a unit. Differences of opinion
on various subjects existed, but we always gave a
unanimous report to the legislature.

220 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
As chairman I addressed my colleagues at our
first meeting as foUows : —
" By orders from the Governor, it devolves on
me to call you together. As the subject-matter for
our discussion may be somewhat indefinite in aU our
minds, I take the Uberty of addressing a few words
to you, in order that you may know not only what
I consider the general nature of our duties, but may
also understand how high I place these duties when
I consider them in their relations to the present
and future health of the citizens of the State. I
may be mistaken in my estimate of the importance of
the movement, the commencement of which to-day
devolves upon us. I confess to you I know of no
higher offices in the State than those we now hold,
viz., that of inaugurating the idea of ' state medi
cine ' in Massachusetts.
" Upon our high or low appreciation of the posi
tion, and of the duties resulting from that position,
and upon our wise or foolish performance of those du
ties, depends the success of the object aimed at in the
establishment of a board of health. The last legis
lature, unconsciously, perhaps, on the part of many
members thereof, has proposed a system that may
be made by us capable of good to the citizens in aU
future time, or it may prove a perfect abortion. Our
work is for the far future as weU as for the present,
and at this very opening of our labors we should
try to place ourselves above the region of merely lo
cal or temporary excitement, or of partisan warfare,
in order that we act wisely and for the ultimate good

MEDICAL WORK 221
of the whole people. ... I have used one expres
sion about which I wish to enter into some detail,
namely, ' state medicine in Massachusetts.' What
is the precise meaning of the expression ? It is of
very recent growth in our language. It has in fact
arisen, I beUeve, within the last few years in England,
where already it has become a great power for good.
Its subjects rank among the most important matters
now discharged by the highest intellects and hu-
manest hearts in Great Britain. It is, as I under
stand it, a special function of a state authority
which, untU these latter days of scientific investiga
tion, has been left almost wholly unperformed or
exercised only under the greatest incitements to its
operation, such as the coming of the plague, cholera,
smaU-pox or other equally maUgnant disease. By
this function the authorities of a State are bound
to take care of the public health, to investigate the
cause of epidemics and other diseases, in order that
each citizen may not only have as long a Ufe as
nature vriU give him, but Ukewise as healthy a liEe
as possible. As the chief object of the physician is
to cure, if possible, any aUment which is submitted
to his care, so the far higher aim of ' state medicine '
is, by its thorough and scientific investigation of the
hidden causes of diseases, which are constantly at
work in an ignorant or debased community, to pre
vent the very organization of such diseases. Much
has already been suggested in England toward the
crushing out of fevers, etc. StiU more recently,
one of the grandest results of state medicine is its

222 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
virtual recognition under international law by the
appointment of government commissioners for the
investigation and spread of Asiatic cholera."
• •••••"••
When our first report to the legislature was pub
Ushed, it was received with favor, not only in Mas
sachusetts but elsewhere.^ We had gained in the
estimation of our feUow citizens.
My colleagues were thorough gentlemen, and all
seemed imbued with one spirit, viz., to serve the
State in the duty which she had at length taken hold
of with energy. AU were men of honor, and some
were of superior abUity. I have served on many
boards and committees, but never on any one so
satisfactorUy. During the ten years of its existence
we presented essays by various individuals on many
sanitary subjects, and we carried out plans for sanitary
reform. I can point with pleasure and pride to the
work thus done, as embodied in the annual volumes
pubUshed by the command of the legislature. These
volumes commanded respect in the various states of
the Union, which have been stimulated to create state
boards of health for their own territories. . . .
During these years of Ufe and energy on the part
of our Massachusetts board, we had jokes as well as
1 The editor of the Gazette Medicale de Paris used the following
language : —
" Le mois dernier on a fond^ k Boston un comity de sant^ publique
sous la pr^sidence du docteur Henry Bowditch. Celui-ci, dans son
disoours inaugural, a trac^ tout le programme que le propose le
nouveau comity. Ce programme est tr^s remarquable, par son
^tendue et par sa haute port^e."

MEDICAL WORK 223
work. I cannot forbear naming the following as
they come up in my memory. One of the most in
telligent members of the board had, at the beginning
of our experiences, very exalted ideas of our rela
tions to the community. We were a "high court
of judicature " on sanitation in the old Bay State.
We were, as he thought, bound to sit and " sift evi
dence " of nuisances as described by others. It was
beneath our dignity to use any sense but that of
hearing complaints, aided by our sight of the peti
tioners, and after that using our " pure reason " in
coming to our judgments. This argument was
strongly urged against our making any official visit
and examination into the abominable and disgust
ing neglect of all sanitary laws, and, in fact, of aU de
cent regard for the comfort of visitors in Brighton.
In truth, before the board brought about a radi
cal change, it seemed as iE the inhabitants of the
place were not aggrieved at their filthy condition,
but really beUeved that their offensive odors were
health-giving ! Strange as is this idea, I think it is
true, and that the following incident sustains me.
A few years before the board was created, I was
caUed one lovely springtime morning to consult one
of the oldest and most respected physicians in
Brighton. I had smeUed Brighton before, but never
so fuUy as I did that day while driving over a great
length of territory. I was surprised at the prevalence
of most filthy odors everywhere. Every house seemed
to have its butchery behind it, from which steamed
to heaven the smeU of pigs waUowing in their own

224 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
ordure, mingled with the remains and excrements
of slaughtered cattle ! As I quietly jogged around
with my companion in his " one-hoss shay," I gently
remarked (for I knew he was a " rough diamond," a
plain, often abrupt, outspoken man) that such a uni
versally bad-smeUing atmosphere must be disagree
able and perhaps unhealthy. But he instantly re
plied, " Oh, no, doctor ! you are whoUy mistaken ;
these are healthy animal odors only. Sniff them up,
doctor." And he, doubtless, beUeved that he had
squelched my foolish talk ; for I talked not a word
more upon the subject. As weU, thought I, argue
with a hog to keep himselE clean as to talk longer
on sanitary work with such a physician, whose in
fluence, unfortunately, reaches more or less closely
every house in the town.
Now the question arising in our board was this :
" ShaU we simply sit and gravely hear complaints of
vile sights and fetid odors, and, after 'siEting evi
dence,' decide, or shaU we officiaUy, as the organ of
state power, visit the ' infected distiicts ' ? " I am
glad to say that none except the member above re
ferred to objected to making the visit. To some of
us the proposition to voluntarUy give up the use of
all of its senses by any board of health seemed quite
grotesque, and finally we aU went to Brighton. The
first slaughter-house we entered was an " argumen-
tum ad hominem " of the strongest kind upon our
friend. He resisted the nauseating influence of the
air as long as he could, when suddenly he left the
premises, after making sundry contortions of body.

MEDICAL WORK 225
and very palpable signs of distress in his face, and
left aU further examination of the premises to the
remainder of the party, apparently then and there
convinced of the error of judgment shown by him
in his previous argument. We never heard of it
again, and he became a vigorous associate. The
board, immediately after that visit, took up the ques
tion of establishing one great " abattoir " that was
to sweep away aU separate slaughter, and so arrange
for the destruction of the offensive odors which the
slaughter-house itself would create, that the town of
Brighton could become, with its beautifuUy undulat
ing territories, an attractive spot for human dweU
ings. That great object was attained by the labor
and tact of our most worthy secretary. Dr. George
Derby. All honor to his dear memory. If the
board had never done anything but this cleansing
of Brighton by his care, the State would have been
weU repaid. But every year we have made advances
in sanitary work by means of essays and investi
gations by experts, etc.
• ••••••••
Years thus passed on, aU cooperating cordially in
the noble object we had in view, of indoctrinating
our people with ideas of sanitary laws, and proclaim
ing the gospel of perfect cleanliness as the only way
to health, whUe practicaUy, as at Brighton, aiding in
the removal of local nuisances.
I recall another ludicrous incident to which my father
often laughingly alluded, for it appealed to his keen sense
of humor.
VOL. n.

226 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
One day the members of the board had made a visit
out of town to some fertUizer manufactory which had been
complained of as a nuisance by the surrounding country
people. Upon their return, with their sense of smell
evidently somewhat blunted by the unsavory odors which
they had encountered, they entered a car, apparently quite
unconscious that they carried about them suggestions of
a most unpleasant atmosphere. They noticed on the faces
of their feUow passengers the peculiar expression charac
teristic of people whose olfactory organs are offended, and
yet who are too polite to express their feelings openly.
Concluding that they were the cause of the discontent,
they finally left the car, and as they did so my father heard
one of the passengers question the conductor. " Who are
those men?" The conductor, eridently appreciating the
situation, repHed with considerable emphasis, " That 's the
State Board of Health, sir ! "
Later he writes : —
In 1878 came mutteriags of poUtical disaster to
the ruUng powers, and forebodings of what the re
nowned General Butler would do with the numerous
"commissions" (that of health among them) that
were "spending wastefuUy the people's money."
Accordingly, to attack this redoubtable general upon
his political "flank," the legislature, under sugges
tions from Governor Talbot, merged the three de
partments of health, lunacy, and charity, a Cerberus,
in fact, in its grotesqueness of head. Three commis
sions, aU different in ideas and modes of action, jum
bled into one heterogeneous mass, simply because
the ruUng party feared the advent to power of a
political adventurer ! The prospects were chUling

MEDICAL WORK 227
in the extreme to me, and I soon found two sad re
sults ; viz., heartburnings and jealousies among the
increased number of members, and an almost total
neglect of sanitary work. At one time, for three or
four successive meetings, nothing was done about
sanitation, the time being occupied in discussions on
lunacy and charity, on both of which subjects, so far
as they had relation to the State, neither I nor my
comrades on the old board knew anything. Such
neglect of that which we had been for years laboring
for was distressing. I appealed in vain for a return
to the single board. Political demagogism was ram
pant, and our efforts were fruitless ; and finaUy, as a
solemn protest against the absurd and fatal combi
nation, I resigned, after months of fruitless effort to
persuade a change.
EXTRACT FROM A LETTER TO HIS DAUGHTER.
. . . Business on business has been heaped upon
me by the Board of Health during the past weeks,
so that I have had scarcely any thought except on
subjects connected vrith our very important official
duties. During these I have come in contact with
lawyers, and have had some sharp encounters with
one or two, young  and another pettifogging
lawyer, Mr.  . In these encounters, armed with
the panoply of state power and common sense and
simple notions about the relations of lawyer to wit
nesses, I have come out victorious. These men
wanted to break down witnesses, not by simple cross-
questions but by brutal insolence. I quietly but

228 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
decidedly told them that, whUe I presided, no such
treatment of a witness would be allowed. Mr. 
sank down, after a sneer, into the most melUfluous
speech. Mr.  glared at me like a lion and pre
tended that as I had said once that lawyers were
not wanted in the case, and now that they were not
gentlemen, he should decline fm-ther cross-examina
tion. I simply denied in toto his allegations, and
knowing that I was sustained by the whole board,
preserved a " dignified sUence." Mr. Aldrich of
Worcester, our legal associate, also said, " The board
wishes it to . be expressly understood that it has no
wish to curtail the powers of the counsel for the de
fendant," and he then asked Mr.  whether he
wished to further cross-question. He utterly de
clined. " Call another witness, if you please," I said to
the lawyer of the petitioners against the nuisance.
This amusing by-play was continued through at
least four witnesses, Mr.  , looking fierce and
" vicious," declining, and I, in the blandest manner
possible, asking him after each vritness had been ex
amined whether he wanted to cross-question. I was
determined that the young puppy should not beat me
or put the board in the false position of seeming to
check a legitimate mode of examination. It was the
richest scene I ever passed through. I knew I was
right and felt " sustained by aU the powers of earth
and air." The consequence was that my heart beat
tranquUly and the moments ran on as merrily as
possible. FinaUy, the absurd youth found that he

MEDICAL WORK 229
was wrong, and neglecting the case which he was
bound to defend, and in the mildest, most gentle
manly manner cross-examined the last two witnesses.
I hope he has learned one thing, that the Board of
Health, while I am presiding officer, wUl not allow a
simple, honest witness to be infamously badgered by
any lawyer.
We were in session seven or eight hours each
day for four days, and have, so far as the board is
concerned, let the Brighton butchers, and other nm-
sance makers in other parts of the State, feel the
power of the legislature granted us last winter,
which obliges us, whenever petitions are sent to us
relative to nuisances in any part of the State, to ex
amine into such and abate them. Some of the law
yers threatened " unconstitutional questions," and all
wanted delay. To both of these points we turned a
deaf ear. We were there for work, not delay. They
might go on with the cases of their clients, on which
they had " due notice " in words dictated by the
attorney-general of the State, or they might not go
on, as they pleased ; but the board was ready to take
evidence about a nuisance. If the complainants were
not ready, the complaint would be considered as with
drawn. If the opponents were not ready, it was not
because they had not had sufficient time, but for
reasons not deemed vaUd by the board. All the
whUe I said that the board, while ready to admit the
service that lawyers would render to the board, felt,
nevertheless, that to examine into the testimony of
a nuisance they did not need the services of a mem-

230 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
ber of the Bar. We sat as a board of health, not
as a court of justice to punish anybody, and there
fore should not be bound by any strictly legal rules,
although we should always endeavor to keep strictly
to the laws of the statute under which we acted.
This always brought the legal profession to its pro
per relations with us, and generally they admitted
that we were right in the position thus taken. . . .
One of the most important contributions to the reports
of the State Board of Health was his article entitled " In
temperance in New England, and How shaU we Prevent
It ? " published in 1871. This article was the result of a
large correspondence with physicians and laymen in va
rious parts of the civilized world upon the subject of in
temperance. FoUowing the course he had pursued in his
investigations upon " soil moisture as a cause of consump
tion," he prepared a series of questions relative to the
use of light wines, beer, and liquors, and the comparative
frequency of drunkenness in the different countries. The
replies to his questions justified him in the belief that in
those countries where light wines and beer were used there
was comparatively little drunkenness, and he became a
strong advocate of similar methods being adopted here.
Although not a total abstainer, my father was always one
of the most temperate of men in his use of wine ; and while
he loathed intemperance and the erils which follow in its
track, he believed the love of alcohol in some form to be
too deeply rooted in the human race for total eradication ;
so he espoused the cause of temperance in its true sense,
believing that to be the surest method of lessening the fre
quent and horrible effects of the abuse of liquor.
Taking the experience of other countries as an example,
therefore, he advocated the substitution of light wines and

MEDICAL WORK 231
beer for these stronger liquors, especially the wretched
stuff offered to the poor in the open grog shops.
For holding this position he encountered the strong op
position, naturaUy, of the Prohibitionists, and a torrent of
abuse from certain quarters was poured upon his head, one
popular preacher going so far as to advertise a lecture en
titled " Dr. Bowditch and Free Rum," an incident infi
nitely amusing to every one who knew my father.
Although he may have modified his views upon certain
detaUs of the Uquor question, he never sympathized with
the extreme views of the prohibition movement, believing
that, after all, the cure for intemperance lies more in the
moral education of the community than in legislative re
strictions. In this connection the foUowing letters, written a few
years later, are of interest. November 13, 1887.
Mes. W. H. Hunt:
Madam, — I do not like to be " thanked " for
doing a duty, as you thank me in your postal circular
of November 11, and especiaUy as I do not agree
to the false statements sent out under the sanction
of the Women's Temperance Association ; viz., the
programme of Dr.  of Chicago. He has made
grave and stupid blunders in his physiological doc
trines, and when he advises physicians to wholly give
up the use of alcohol in disease, he wiU find few
practicing physicians to f oUow him. May I ask you
what the Prohibitionist party aims at ? I agree to
the prohibition of aU open grog shops, and under
that term I include (now, though I did not formerly)
lager beer saloons, for under this latter term we find
by bitter experience that the strongest Uquors are

232 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
always sold, and now I have no doubt that they are
Uke common grog shops and promote intemperance.
But iE you ask me to accept Dr.  's false state
ment, and propose to prohibit the manufacture of
alcohol in Massachusetts by an amendment of the
Constitution, I reply that I cannot do so, because I
beUeve that in many cases of disease alcohol is a
necessary food.
I send by this maU to you, as I shaU send to aU
of your friends on the circular, a pamphlet by an
experienced and learned physiologist, which, if you
carefully read it, you wUl find whoUy refutes Dr.
 's chief positions and really proves him to be
" a blind leader of the bUnd."
Yours very truly,
Heney I. Bowditch.
REPLY TO A LETTEE FROM THE BOSTON WOMEN'S TEM
PERANCE ASSOCIATION.
January 27, 1888.
Mes. H. B. Cone :
Deae Madam, — Although simply a member of
the Library Association (having recently resigned
the office of the vice-president on the ground of age
and long service), I return to you the thanks of the
Association for Dr.  's book, which you have so
kindly given to the Library through my agency. I
wUl see that it is deposited where it can be easily
seen and read. I shaU take the liberty, however, of
fastening at the end of it Dr. Warren's pamphlet,
which you deem such very indecisive and imdecided

medical work 233
talk. I may make some remarks on the book, for,
since reading your presentation copy, I have exam
ined with some care all of it. . . .
To say that there are no good points in it would
not be true, but they are so few compared with the
amount of doubtful assertions and pure verbiage with
out knowledge about the processes and treatment of
diseases, that I should never think of advising any
young physician to buy it in preference to others.
His ridiculous proposition to give up the use of aU
alcohol, even in moderate doses, and vrith due care
by physicians, I think he will never persuade the
profession to follow. I wUl protest as much as he
or the strictest teetotaler against the common every
day use of alcohol by anybody, young or old, even in
small quantities ; but if he tells me to give up all our
tinctures when Dr. Warren's paper proves that al
cohol is more or less a food, and as we know a very
important one at times, as Lieutenant Greely found
it to be during their night at the North Pole, I con
sider Dr.  's proposition not only absurd but
wrong. In conclusion, let me say that I vriU join with him
or you or anybody for the plan of " no license," and
for forcibly, if need be, shutting up all open grog
shops, but without the least hope of being able to
prevent whoUy any one of the three vices suggested
by these remarks.
Yours very truly,
Heney I. Bowditch.

234 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
In March, 1874, he published an article for the Fifth
Annual Report of the State Board of Health, entitled
" Preventive Medicine and the Physician of the Future."
After speaking in general of the importance of the im
provement of the public health, and the prevention of dis
ease among the people, and after giving numerous recom
mendations as to the care of the health by the use of proper
clothing, judicious forms of exercise, etc., he summarizes
his remarks as follows : —
I have thus given you my views of the grand scope
of preventive medicine, and as a most imperfect Ulus-
tration of its future usefulness, I have run through
a series of recommendations that I think any expe
rienced physician might even now g^ve according to
the principles and rides of action that wiU weigh vrith
the physician of the future. I beUeve that if these
recommendations, with others that might be added
by any family physician, should be thoroughly car
ried out by the parent during chUdhood, and by the
man or woman when arrived at adult life, many that
would otherwise possibly have died of consumption
will escape that calamity. In saying this I do not
mean to intimate that during the whole period no
other remedies, strictly so caUed, might not be neces
sary. Doubtless they would be, and of the exact
mode of appUcation of those remedies, physiological
experiment and cUnical experience of physicians are
teaching us more and more every day. I contend
therefore that the physician of the future wUl stand
higher than ever as preventive medicine advances.
In this statement I take a position exactly the re-

MEDICAL WORK 235
verse of that assumed by President Barnard in his
late address before the Health Association at its re
cent meeting in New York. That gentleman quietly
informed his medical hearers that their doom was
sealed under the steady advance of modern science.
Their services would become less and less necessary
and woiUd finaUy be no longer needed by the laity. I
think he is wrong and that my views are correct, be
cause, whUe human free agency and human imperfec
tion exist, while accidents moral and physical occur,
there wiU always be some occurrences tending to
injure health which no skiU or prophecy can foresee.
The wise physician wiU therefore be summoned to
act immediately on important cases of disease or
threatened death. These he wiU meet not only by
wise preventive regulations for the future health of
his patient, but likewise by a careful administiation of
medicine, properly so called, during the actual attack.
In concluding his reminiscences of his work in the
State Board of Health, he says : —
That the reports from Massachusetts were valued
in England is seen by the foUowing extracts from
journals weU known as the severest critics found
in Great Britain. For example, the " Saturday Re
view," under date of August 29, 1874, says, " The
reports of the State Board of Health of Massachu
setts have acquired in America a deserved reputa
tion for earnestness of effort to make them what
such documents ought always to be, and the present
report wiU increase this weU-earned distinction."

236 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
Conclusion. Some may ask why I give in this vol
ume this brief history of events relative to state pre
ventive medicine in Massachusetts. I do so for the
two foUowing reasons : —
First, because I want to show the degradation into
which sanitary science wiU be drawn iE it once faUs
into the vortex of poUtical partisanship, and I thus
present Massachusetts as a warning to other states
to avoid such a danger. Harvard alumni are in
every State, and each man may do something to pre
vent such a catastrophe as has been here narrated.
Second, I confess that I have wanted to show the
Nemesis that has seized on aU these pretenders to
the sacred calling of " state preventive medicine "
in our State, inasmuch as, for their misdoings, they
have been at length hurled from power. This sen
timent may be unchristian, but it is human ; and aU
" pertaining to humanity " ought to have the right
to claim some response from a Harvard alumnus.
In 1876 my father was invited to give the Centennial
Address upon State Medicine and Public Hygiene in
America at the International Congress in Philadelphia.
The address was received with such favor that, upon
the motion of Dr. John L. Atlee of Lancaster, Pa., Dr.
Trenholme of Montreal, and Dr. J. P. White of Buffalo,
N. Y., it was voted that copies of the address should be
sent to the governors of the different states and territo
ries of the United States and provinces of Canada, also to
the presidents of state and territorial medical societies
and sanitary boards of the United States and Dominion
of Canada.

MEDICAL WORK 237
In a note written several years later upon the fly-leaf of
a copy of this address, I find the foUowing : —
August 17, 1883.
As I look at the above votes (on the resolution to
send copies of the address to the governors of the
several states and territories and to the several
provinces of Canada), I regard them as a proof that
(as Carlyle says) men Uke sincerity. I told no
couleur de rose tale. When the chairman of the
Centennial Committee (the venerable Dr. Samuel
D. Gross) asked me to deliver the Centennial Ad
dress on Public Hygiene, I declined on the ground
that, properly speaking, nothing had been done by
any of the states or by the national government in
aid of the great cause of pubUc hygiene, that we
were aU apparently enjoying our filth. The com
mittee decided to have no address upon that sub
ject. " Nay," I said, " that wiU never do. I can,
if you wUl, tell a true story of the present condition
of things, but it wiU not be a theme for glorifica
tion." The immediate reply was given : " Go for
ward." I commenced with great misgivings as to
my abiUty to fulfiU even my own plan, but the uni
versal courtesy of my professional associates through
out the country, in replying to questions, enabled
me to prepare the address. To them I wish to re
turn my hearty thanks ; and it is a beautiful thought
to me now that during my half century of medical
professional life, I have always perceived the same
courtesy shown to any one asking aid honestly and
earnestly in behalE of any investigation upon the

238 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
public health, or the proper practice of our noble
profession. After working many months, I felt that I had
gained one point ; viz., of showing our utter neglect
of everything Uke state preventive medicine. I felt
that I had a truth, which, unpalatable as I supposed
it would be to most of my hearers, must be told.
" You have got to hear this, my friends," thought I,
" so help me God ! " Judge of my surprise when
the above resolutions were offered — the first by Dr.
Atlee on the day the address was deUvered, and the
last two on the succeeding day. I indeed felt grati
fied, but my innermost thought was of thankfulness
that I had been called thus to strike a blow in behalf
of the sacred cause of preventive medicine.
In the foUowing letters to his wife, he aUudes to his ex
perience with the address. Cambridge, August 30, 1876.
. . . WUliam^ has made a beautiEul copy of the
address (" Hygiene in America "), which I shaU read
from and leave with the secretary if he wants it;
but I shall have a much more detailed affair to be
printed by John WUson. I must, " by hook or by
crook," get that done. It is due to my last year's
work and to the occasion, as a book of reference for
the future. I am quite surprised at my equanimity
at the prospect. I never felt more calm about any
thing. I think it is because I have endeavored
throughout the whole of it to state the exact truth,
^ A young colored boy in whom he was interested.

MEDICAL WORK 239
thinking that I should be led to see it. Now hav
ing done so, I should fear nothing, though all my
hearers should scoff ; but I think they wUl not. . . .
Philadelphia, September 6, 1876.
International Medical Congress. Just finished;
cool as a cucumber. A bad haU to be heard in.
Whether Uked or not I know not ; but of two things
I am sure ; viz., first, that I felt not the least trepi
dation, and second, that whether Uked or not I gave
out some significant truths which I hope will do
good : but, after aU, what availeth all work ? The
world whirls on and man hath only to perform his
work and let God " give the increase," in case any
increase is to come. I think one thing is certain,
viz., that my report contained sufficient data to
make it worthy of consultation by the future writ
ers on the subject. The whole work of the year
has been valuable to me, even if no one else is im
proved thereby. The fact that I labored and spoke
so conspicuously before a congress from aU quarters
of the globe is of itself agreeable to me to think of,
because I know that my " Le " and my " Uttle Le "
and my two boys feel proud that their father was
found worthy to take such a high position before
such a body.
... In a subsequent letter (September 6) he draws
a picture of three ginger beer bottles. Under the first,
with date September 4, the bottle appears tightly corked,
and the words below " Bottled-up ginger beer." Under
the second (date September 5), with the cork and contents

240 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
of the bottle bursting upwards, the words " Exploding of
ginger beer." Under the third (September 6, 8 A. M.}, the
empty bottle lying on its side, the words " Fade remains
of old ginger beer." September 6, 5 P. m.
Above you have graphic representations of my
self upon the " three days." ... I have met with
many nice fellows. Old Ashael Smith of Texas, f uU
of former Parisian memories, introduced himself
after hearing my address, and we have hobnobbed
together quite easily. Dr. Turnipseed of Columbia,
S. C, whom I had never met, but who has been
very kind to me about my address, I have seen in
timately, and I have talked with him very frankly
about the war. He was Confederate surgeon during
four years. To-day, I understand, a very handsome
compUment was offered in relation to my address ;
viz., that copies of that single address should be
printed and distributed widely in the states, and some
of the Canadians added their countiy. Whether it
was passed or not I do not know, for I heard of the
fact only incidentally ; but the single fact that any
one should offer such a proposition, and that one
of the most prominent physicians of PhUadelphia at
the meeting should second the proposition, at such
a congress, is, of course, a pleasant compliment to
me ; and I lay it at your feet in the hope that it will
afford you joy. I must say that the contents of
the " beer bottle " have been suddenly transformed
into a true Falernian wine of comfortable self-
complacency. H.

MEDICAL WORK 241
September 8, 1876.
Yesterday morning, as I was preparing to Usten
to the Centennial Address on Obstetrics, Dr. White,
of Buffalo, arose, and after a few complimentary
remarks moved that, in addition to the vote of the
day before, whereby the address was to be sent to
the governors of aU the states, and to those of the
Dominion of Canada, it should also be forwarded
to the presidents of aU state medical societies in
the country, urging them to see that the measures
suggested by me should be carried out. I thought
of you and my family and rejoiced that I had suc
ceeded. Above aU (I tell this to you, my alter
ego), I bowed in thankfulness to God who, through
the whole work, has seemed to lead me and to sup
port me. H.
September 11, 1876.
I learned a curious anecdote from Dr. StiUe's
brother last evening about the Swedish representa
tive. Dr. StiU6 asked him to go with him to at
tend the Swedish church. It was established be
fore Penn came. From Lutheran it has graduaUy
become EpiscopaUan. After the services were fin
ished. Dr. StiUe asked him how he liked the form
and aspect generaUy. With some unwiUingness,
" he thought that there was a Uttle too much irrev
erence." " How so ? " asked the doctor. Again,
unvrillingly, he repUed, " WeU, I observed that all
used fans. We never use fans in church in Sweden."

242 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
The doctor afterwards asked the Spanish represen
tative, and he replied laughingly, " Why, we use
them everywhere." So does climate influence our
views upon the most important subjects. H.
It was my pririlege to accompany my father to PhUa
delphia at this risit, where, as a young medical student,
I got my first glimpse of some of the medical lights of
America. As guests of Dr. Alfred StiUe, we had the
additional pleasure of firing with a delightful host, and
our time was divided between the International Congress
and the Centennial Exposition. I recall with delight my
father's enthusiasm for both attractions, as well as his
desire to have me enjoy them with him.
Largely in consequence, doubtless, of the success of his
paper at Philadelphia, my father was chosen president of
the American Medical Association for the meeting in
Chicago in June, 1877.
In a letter to my mother he thus aUudes to his closing
remarks in his address to the Association : —
Chicago, June, 1877.
I have just finished, as we say, "in a blaze of
glory." I gave some reminiscences of my earUer
connection with the Association. I think they Uked
my hits. At the termination I said as foUows : —
" Let me now turn to the present hour. Soon we
shall separate, some of us never to meet again. Let
us part friends in deed and in truth, brothers of a
most noble art. Last year South CaroUna gave her
right hand of fellowship to Massachusetts.^ This
^ This alludes to the fact that a South Carolina regiment marched

MEDICAL WORK 243
year Massachusetts extends her hand in most cor
dial friendship to Louisiana.^ Where is the man in
this nation who objects to this ? Massachusetts sup
ported on either hand by South Carolina and Lou
isiana ! God bless the Union, and let all the people
say Amen." Repeatedly during my address I was
applauded, and at the end I had tumultuous expres
sions of the same feeUng.
Under the prorisions of the Act of March 3, 1879, my
father was appointed by the President as one of the first
members of the National Board of Health.
He was placed upon a special committee on epidemics
and contagious diseases, and on state, municipal, local, and
sanitary legislation.
He naturaUy took the deepest interest in the workings
of this board, but his state of health at that time com
pelled him to resign his position not long after, and he
was succeeded by Dr. Charles F. Folsom of Boston.
But few manuscripts or letters of special interest touch
ing upon this work can be found.
Several years later, in alluding to the origin of the
National Board of Health, he wrote : —
A National Board of Health was established in
1879 by an act of Congress. National sanitary
power, guided by its efficient agent. Dr. John S.
Billings, and with large aid from the national ex
chequer, was able to put an absolute cordon sani-
taire around Memphis, and at the same time crush
in the celebration of tbe Battle of Bunker Hill in Boston, June 17,
1876. 1 This refers to the election of a New Orleans physician as presi
dent of the Association for the ensuing year.

244 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
out a terrible epidemic of yellow fever prevaiUng
there, which, without this external aid from the
board, would have invaded towns above and below
Memphis on the Mississippi River, thus causing
great destruction of human Ufe, as weU as much in
terruption of commerce. This very season we hear
from Louisiana how the state board, led by the
energetic and wise Dr. Holt, has been able to crush
out and limit the germs of this terrible disease at
Biloxi, and has done so with an almost imperceptible
interference with the usual course of trade at the
mouth of the same mighty river. Indirectly I con
sider that Massachusetts has powerfully contributed
to these two benign results by her earlier establish
ment of the Massachusetts State Board of Health
and her inauguration of state preventive medicine.
TO HIS SON, THEN IN EUEOPE.
Boston, October 28, 1879.
... I spent four days at the National Board
meeting in Washington, busy in the matters of the
country. The Southern and Western people would
suck out of us every dollar of the five miUion put at
our disposal by Congress. But we decided, nemine
contradicente, that, first, we would spend as freely
as possible to prevent the spread of yeUow fever ;
but second, we would not let every twopenny town
ship have its quota, as it is caUed, of the money put
in our hands. Some of these Southern men de
manded that we should build them systems of sew
ers, etc., and because we would do no such thing.

MEDICAL WORK 245
they have berated us. We have accompUshed a mag
nificent sanitary work in keeping the yeUow fever
almost completely confined to Memphis, although
about 300,000 people fled from the city and all
business inside and from without was stopped. Only
to-day, after a frost has come, have people been
aUowed to return. Before this, by means of our
mounted patrol, no one was aUowed to enter and
no one to go out until after thorough disinfection.
Last year, you know, the fatal disease swept the
Mississippi VaUey. This year it probably, judging
from its violence at Memphis, would have done like
wise. The national board, by aiding freely the lo
cal board and spending freely the nation's money,
has prevented the disaster, and we shall probably
be able to return to Congress more than half the
money granted to us.
Our state board is in the state it was in when you
left ; viz., united to the Board of Charities. Our
meetings are interminable upon questions relating
to everything but sanitation. I get mad every time
I go to a meeting, and have about made up my mind
to resign after the governor is elected.
The following letter, written to Dr. A. N. BeU for pub
lication, appeared in the " Sanitarian," and is interesting
now, for it shows how little had been done throughout the
country at that time for state sanitary laws.
Boston, Mass., December 6, 1882.
Deae Doctoe Bbll, — In reply to your wish for
a statement of my views upon what should be done

246 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
in America in regard to national and state sanita
tion, I wUl endeavor briefly to give them.
The genius of our institutions necessarUy requires
that power should reach from the highest federal
official down, if need be, to the humblest personage
or homestead in the land. When there is a perfect
health organization of the nation, we should have:
1st, a national board of health ; 2d, a state board
of health in every State ; 3d, county boards in
every State ; 4th, city or town boards in every
State. A national board should consist of seven or nine
members, the majority of whom should be physi
cians ; and of the minority one should be a lawyer,
a second should be an able financier, and the re
mainder persons interested in the subject of pubUc
health. This body should have a general super
vision of the country. The present board, for ex
ample, was able to grapple with yeUow fever on the
Mississippi during the earliest months of the exist
ence of that epidemic. The board kept the scourge
within comparatively narrow Umits.
Since that time it has done good by various spe
cial investigations in different parts of the countiy.
It has also stimulated to greater care in sanitary
matters the proprietors in large watering-places, by
inspections of localities to which people resort dur
ing certain seasons of the year ; for example, New
port, R. I., White Sulphur Springs, Va., etc. I
have reason to think that these inspections, having
been made in a kindly manner, have graciously been

MEDICAL WORK 247
accepted by the inhabitants of the districts examined,
and made the basis of future sanitary action.
The present board has met with injustice from the
President. The refusal to allow the board to decide
what should be done with the money granted by the
last Congress to meet sanitary exigencies that might
arise was one of the grossest of insults. Never
theless, by that action on the part of the President,
I think an idea is suggested which may be of infi
nite value to the future sanitary organization of the
nation. I refer to his calUng upon the Surgeon-
General of the United States Marine Hospital Ser
vice to take charge of the hundred thousand doUars
granted by Congress. By this action, one who by age
and by his profession must be considered a weU-driUed
expert in regard to sanitary matters should be called
upon to provide against a threatened epidemic or
any contagious disease being allowed to gain a foot
hold upon any part, even the most remote, of these
states. He shoiUd have under his direction a very
large number of junior officers equally well prepared
to meet any emergency.
Now the thought I want to suggest is this. Of
any future national board let the Surgeon-General
of the United States Army be ex officio one of its
members, with a seat in the United States Cabinet.
The subject of the public health has been too long
neglected by the official authorities of the nation.
The time will eventually come (if it be not already at
least partiaUy arrived, as I beUeve is the fact) when
the whole people wiU deem the health of the citizen

248 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
is of the highest importance, and as such claim the
care of the Government as much as the administra
tion of the various departments already provided for.
When the proper time arrives for a department of
the pubUc health, let the surgeon-general act as secre
tary of it. It seems to me that, by this plan, a most
thorough national organization could be effected.
I now turn to the second part of the subject; viz..
State Boaeds of Health. — These are of infi
nite importance, and should be established in every
State. Public hygiene is but commencing its career
of usefulness. It should not be shackled by having
any other departments united with it. The State
should have a board consisting of at least five or
seven members. The majority should be physicians.
The chairman and secretary should generaUy be from
the medical profession. This seems to me a most
proper arrangement, and yet I would not have it so
absolute that a man like Edwin Chadwick, for ex
ample, in England, should not hold the highest sani
tary office in a State. Massachusetts has made in
my opinion a fatal mistake for the pubUc hygiene
within her borders by joining aU the immense works
of charity and lunacy to those of pubUc hygiene.
To one department — viz., that of pubUc hygiene —
I am sure that nothing but injury has resulted. I
think that Massachusetts wiU be a warning to her
sister states to avoid all such grotesque combina
tions as she now presents.
The duties of a state board should be varied,
among which would be named : —

medical work 249
First. The general support of the State's health.
It should be ready to abate any nuisance tending to
injure the pubUc health. This it should do from
its own powers, and still better with the cooperation
of the local county or town boards of health. It
should endeavor to cultivate friendly relations with
the national board, other state boards, and with the
county and town boards in its own State. In other
words, it should, while attending to its own State's
health, cultivate the most friendly relations with
simUar organizations in other states.
Second. It should invite the State to grant moneys
to enable the board to employ experts to report
upon any and aU subjects bearing on pubUc health.
Among these works might be named public lectures
and special essays on matters pertaining to public
health. The third and fourth subjects may be very
briefly spoken of.
Third, county boards wiU be speciaUy needed
where there are large districts vrith few towns in
them, and yet the elements of Ul health may be
widely spread. Moreover, no town board would
feel at Uberty, perhaps, to act upon some nuisance
which, though fatally influencing its territory, is not
so situated within the town borders that it can cope
with the evU. In such a case it ought to have the
right of appeal to a county board and obtain re
dress. Fourth, city and town boards of health should
be immediately connected with the governments of
cities and towns. Each board should have a paid

250 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
health officer, and one or more physicians or lay
men should be members without pay. The board
should have ample powers to abate any pubUc or
private nuisance bearing upon the public health.
Such a board would graduaUy have aU requisite
powers granted to it by a willing pubUc sentiment.
Its relations with the county, state, and national
boards should be studiously kept of a most friendly
nature. There ought to be no clashing of inter
ests, because the aim of each and of aU should be
the same ; viz., the progress of the people in sanitary
education and in the enforcement of sanitary law as
it is being graduaUy, year after year, developed.
I have thus summarily laid out before you my
general thought of this matter of pubUc health san
itary organization. We are aU ignoramuses and
learners. From the very recent growth of know
ledge, both theoretical and practical, we have few
learned experts.
Heney I. Bowditch.
Not long after my father's resignation from the National
Board of Health, the foUowing editorial appeared in the
" Boston Daily Advertiser," of date January 8, 1883.
" The National Board of Health has a chance to do
valuable serrice to the country by investigating the Mex
ican cholera epidemic. The infected districts are near
enough to ports in Central America to expose the United
States to some danger. Chiapa, where the cholera first
appeared, is in about the same latitude as the districts in
India which first suffered from its ravages. The inquiry
whether the disease is also a native of the tropics in this
hemisphere is worth considering, and experts sent to the

medical work 251
Mexican states which are afflicted might throw light upon
the subject. The board is accused of doing less than was
naturaUy expected of it, and possibly one opportunity has
come in the study of the cholera risitation."
In reply to this criticism my father wrote as follows : —
Boston, January, 1883.
To THE EdITOE of THE "BoSTON DaILY AdVEE-
TisEE," — I cannot allow the foUowing passage in
your editorial of to-day upon the National Board
of Health to pass unchaUenged. You say, " The
board is accused of doing less than was naturally ex
pected of it, and possibly one opportunity has come
in the study of the cholera visitation."
I would respectfully ask of you how the board
can do anything in the premises ? The money voted
by Congress for the use of the board in meeting
just such emergencies was deUberately taken from it
by the President and given to the hospital marine
service, whose chief declares that he will not move
to prevent an epidemic, but wiU wait untU caUed
upon by the governor of a State, who is to officiaUy
inform him that an epidemic has already broken out
within his territory. The National Board has been
crueUy and contemptuously treated by the President,
and has, as I have reason to think, no means at its
disposal for any such " study " as you propose.
RespectfuUy yours,
Heney I. Bowditch,
Lately member of the National Board of Health.
Although obliged, on account of his health, to resign
active work in all national or state sanitary matters, my

252 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
father's interest in the subject continued unabated to the
last. The growth of the idea of state and municipal sanita
tion he fostered by every means he could command, and he
gave a wiUing ear to aU those who, following in his foot
steps, turned to him for encouragement and counsel.
In 1881, at the request of the Secretary of the Suffolk
District Medical Society, my father wrote an address which
was published in the " Boston Medical and Surgical Jour
nal " of August 4, 1881, entitled " The Medical Education
of Women : the Present Hostile Position of Harvard Uni
versity and of the Massachusetts Medical Society. What
Remedies can be Suggested ? " This paper was the re
sult of years of endeavor on his part to make the Massa
chusetts Medical Society admit women to its ranks. It
would be impossible here to quote at length from this
paper, written in the fervid style he commonly used when
deeply impressed by what he deemed injustice done by any
one individual or collection of individuals to others. He
bases aU his statements upon the argument that no one
person or collection of persons shall deny the right of oth
ers, whether male or female, to adopt the medical profes
sion as a means of livelihood, prorided legitimate methods
are employed to obtain that end. He believed that the
Massachusetts Medical Society, in declining to receive
women into its ranks, not only virtually placed itself in
the category of those who deny to others the pririleges
which they themselves enjoy, but that it hindered by its
action the cause of higher medical education, and did harm
to the community, by compeUing capable women practi
tioners to go elsewhere for a livelihood, sometimes even
forcing them into the ranks of quackery. This was his
position from the first moment that he espoused the cause.
It was not until the year 1884, however, that the efforts of
my father and others were crowned with success.

MEDICAL WORK 253
In advocating the equal rights of men and women to
enter the medical profession, my father was guided by no
sentimental reasons. He hated injustice in any form or
shape ; but although by nature and training always defer
ential to the opposite sex, he never allowed this feeling
to interfere with his outspoken criticism where he felt he
should utter a word of protest.
An illustration of this was given me by a fellow practi
tioner who was present at one of the meetings of a medical
society soon after the admission of women. A lady phy
sician read a paper which was open to criticism. Many
who were present had supposed that my father, considering
the circumstances, possibly would not follow the methods
taught him many years before in the Society for Medical
Observation in Paris. They were mistaken, however ; for
when the reader had finished, he arose and forthwith pro
ceeded to sharply criticise the paper in a manner that re
lieved any possible doubts in the minds of his hearers as to
his future attitude on such occasions. It was but another
way of expressing, not only his sense of justice, but his
respect. Women had obtained the right to appear in that
society. He had espoused their cause and fought for it,
but henceforth their efforts would be placed upon an equal
footing with those of their male competitors. Their com
munications would always be received with respect, but
no sentimental considerations would shield them from
meeting whatever true justice should demand in the way
of frank, free, even merciless criticism.
His position upon co-education in medical work can be
briefly stated. It was his earnest desire that Harvard
University should offer medical instruction to women upon
an equal basis with men, but he believed that in many
departments separate instruction was desirable. In the
paper alluded to, he pleads for the establishment of a
medical school for women by the University, and gives

254 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
conrincing arguments in favor of the plan. He did not
live, however, to see his wishes upon this subject ful-
fiUed. In 1888 he wrote an address, at the request of the Amer
ican Academy of Medicine, entitled " Tolerance and Intol
erance in Medical Societies." This address was the re
sult of the unfortunate and bitter discussions which had
arisen not long before in the American Medical Associa
tion on the subject of its " Code of Medical Ethics," the
attitude taken at that time by the Association having been
one to cause him much distress.
After a few introductory remarks, he says : —
I propose that we should consider : —
Intolerance and tolerance in medicine.
Codes of ethics.
What code, if any, should this academy uphold ?
Before looking at these questions in their relation
to the medical profession, let us study intolerance
and tolerance as they affect mankind in general.
Having briefly done this, we can better decide how
and with what limitations these mental quaUties in
fluence our Ufe.
Tolerance, or its opposite, intolerance, are two
great moral forces, both of which, when properly
used, are most beneficial, and perhaps we may say
necessary, to man's progress.
In a line which is the resultant of these two forces,
the world of thought and of action has been hitherto
carried onward, and they wiU never cease to act.
Without both of them, society would either stagnate
as among slaves, or be liable to be subjected to the

MEDICAL WORK 255
wUdest Ucense and fury of an ungovernable mob
spirit. AU persons tolerate virtue, each, however, accord
ing to his own Ught, or iu apcordance with pubUc
opinion of the country or age in which he lives.
Per contra, they are intolerant of vice and evil-doers,
save that in deciding on some actions usually deemed
vUe, there may be extenuating circumstances in par
ticular cases leading us to toleration of the actor
even while condemning the act. Nay, we may ap
plaud or at least tolerate the act itselE under the
circumstances in which it may be done. Thus it ap
pears that tolerance and iutolerance, though usually
so diametiicaUy opposed to each other, may under
diverse circumstances not only be not opposed, but
each may assume the other's place ! Intolerance be
comes tolerance. Wrong apparently becomes right
under the varied circumstances.
He then aUudes to the experience of those who have
endeavored to force new opinions upon the medical world,
and speaks of Ambroise Pare, Jenner, and Harvey as ex
amples of noted men maligned and almost persecuted for
their views, which were destined to be accepted in later
times by the medical world.
In the conclusion of the address he says : —
. . . Let us now try to answer the questions on
the three topics laid down at the introduction of this
paper. First. Intolerance or tolerance; which of
the two ought the academy to sustain ? From man's
nature, as we have seen, we shaU always have them as
factors in human progress. But we must endeavor

256 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
to guide them, and never aUow either to tyrannize
over us. We may — nay, we ought — to be intolerant
of any vicious act, or proposition tending to a vicious
act, and consequent tending of the degradation of
the profession, which we all love and respect ; but
let us tolerate any foolish (as we think) or extrava
gant opinion untU at least we have fairly considered
it in aU of its bearings. As we have already seen,
what may seem at first sight vicious must be at
times interpreted liberaUy, or we may do wrong.
Let, therefore, tolerance be the rule; intolerance
(among honorable men) the very rare exception ;
persecution for opinion's sake, never.
Second. What shaU we think of codes of ethics ?
I am sure that few of this assembly would wish to
adopt any " code " of ethics, if we may draw any in
ferences as to their harmful results from the doings
of other medical bodies. The border Unes of toler
ance and of intolerance run so closely upon each
other that no general rules can, I think, safely be
laid down that wUl not, under the influence of pas
sion and of bigotry, be Uable to do much more harm
than good to the body which adopts them.
Third. What code, iE any, should this academy
uphold? It would be a gross presumption on my part to
attempt to answer that question for such a body
of educated gentlemen as I see before me. Nevei^
theless, standing as I now do before you, after sixty
years' experience of our sacred profession, I feel
called upon to state what I deem the only true code

MEDICAL WORK 257
that we ought to recognize either as men or as
physicians. Neither you nor I can go far astray if
we appeal to the instincts of any honest, manly
heart ; and I now refer to that noble rule of action
which should govern aUke the prince and the peasant,
the college-bred and the clown; that rule which,
coming down from the earUest dawn of history, the
offspring of man's moral development even before
Christianity appeared on the earth, was at least sanc
tified in the simple yet forcible language of Christ
when he spoke as follows : " Whatsoever ye would
that men should do to you, do ye even so to them."
H any written code be needed for the academy
(which I doubt), these words might weU serve as aU
that is reaUy required.
Brothers of the academy ! If each one of us
would from this time make this divine rule the
guide, not only in his professional, but in aU of his
human relations. Tolerance and Intolerance would
join hands in peace, and this academy, if it could
induce aU physicians to act upon it, would have ac
compUshed one of its highest missions.
BeUeving, as we have seen, that tolerance and in
tolerance are two most important instruments in
man's progress, this academy, if it adopt right max
ims, may have immense power toward their being
used more discreetly and more humanely than they
have hitherto been. Let us aU look forward to the
better and fairer times of the future, when medical
men shall have become more far-seeing and generous
in their reception of all new ideas, and more able to
VOL. n.

258 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
look carefully on all sides of a question before either
accepting or condemning it, not deciding until after
candid and careful, searching deUberation.
Brethren, in conclusion I can only hope that our
academy wiU, with each year of its growth, by the
work pf individual members and its joint labors, tend
to raise the whole profession in America to higher
grades of sentiment of thought and of action, so that
at length the caUing of the physician may reaUy be
come, what it has hitherto only erroneously claimed
to be, a Uberal profession.
The works which I have thus far referred to represent
reaUy but a fraction of the numerous articles which my
father wrote upon widely varying medical subjects. His
papers upon " Diaphragmatic Hernia," upon " Trichinae
Spiralis," and upon the development of the "Lymnea,"
were well known to the profession on both sides of the
Atlantic. In 1879 I happened to be at the International
Congress in Amsterdam, on my way to Germany as a
student. It was my good fortune to be introduced to
Professor Virchow, and I weU remember the gratification
I felt when, upon hearing my name, his face lighted up as
he said, " Ah ! are you a son of the Bowditch who wrote
about trichinae spiralis and about the lymnea?" His
evident pleasure at my affirmative answer proved most
eloquently his respect for my father's work.
His enthusiasm even extended to matters in medicine
not strictly scientific in character, as the foUowing incident
wiU show : —
In October, 1848, through the agency of Dr. Henry J.
Bigelow, a friend gave to the Boston Medical Library a
portrait, which Dr. Bigelow believed, with others, to be
one of Ambroise Pare. The painting was an interesting

MEDICAL WORK 259
one as a work of art, and at first there seemed to be good
eridence that it was. a portrait of the eminent French sur
geon. The head, however, was that of a very insignificant
looking man. My father's reverence for Fare's genius
led him, for many years, to doubt the authenticity of the
portrait, and after considerable work upon the subject, he
proceeded, years afterward, in 1885, to show Dr. Bigelow
his reasons for doubting his conclusions.
A good-natured but energetic discussion arose. For
several months my father worked with characteristic ardor
to prove Dr. Bigelow in error. It was evidently a matter
of conscience on his part to prove that Ambroise Pare, the
noble man and great surgeon, could never have resembled
the curious, almost apeUke subject of this portrait.
He wrote to England and France wherever he could
hear of an authentic portrait of Pare. He collected nu
merous woodcuts and medaUions, and finally a photo
graph of a portrait said to be of Pare by Pourbus, in the
Ecole de Medecine, in Paris. He invited artists to see the
portrait, and to give their views ; in fact, he left no stone
unturned to prove the truth of his assertions. Finally,
a meeting of the " Medical Improvement Society " was
called to decide the matter, January 10, 1887. It was
most entertaining to the younger men, for they knew that
two of the most prominent members of the profession
were probably to take opposite sides upon the question,
and for this reason the greatest interest had been shown.
The meeting was held ; my father read his paper and gave
his proofs, apparently to the satisfaction of aU ; for, at that
time, the society voted, first, to reject the report of a com
mittee which had proposed simply to place a point of in
terrogation after the name of Pare, and second, to adopt
the suggestion of my father, that the inscription should
state merely that the portrait was of an unknown surgeon.
Having accomplished his purpose, without the least ex-

260 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
ultation my father quietly expressed his satisfaction that
what he considered a blot upon the memory of a great
man had been removed. The name Ambroise Pare was
subsequently taken off, and for nearly two years the pic
ture hung on the walls as the portrait of one unknown.
During this time, however. Dr. Bigelow had made dUi
gent inquiries as to the origin of the picture, and finally,
in a brilliant paper before the Improvement Society, April
27, 1889, gave his proofs, obtained through Dr. Le Paul-
mier of Paris, that the picture was an original portrait of
an eminent surgeon of Paris, Francois H^rard, painted by
F. Le Sicre late in the seventeenth century.
Photographs of an old engraving found in Paris were
shown, proving beyond doubt the correctness of Dr. Le
Paulmier's statement.
Upon the motion of my father, the society then voted
that the portrait have inscribed upon its frame the name
of FranQois Herard.
So ended the history of a controversy which had ex
tended over years at intervals. It weU illustrates the
perseverance and determined will of the two most con
cerned in the discussion.
In 1889, at a meeting of the American Climatological
Association in Boston, he gave a paper entitled " Open
Air Travel as a Means of Cure of Consumption." In it
he gave the practical experience of his own father who,
when about thirty-five years of age, having had a hem
orrhage with erident signs of beginning trouble in the
lungs, adopted a unique method of regaining his health.
With a friend he took a long journey with a horse and
buggy for several weeks, and succeeded finaUy in arrest
ing the disease, which never again gave him trouble.
The following quotation from the introduction to his
article ^ shows weU his attitude of mind in such matters.
1 "Prevention of Consumption.'' Volume ii., paper 4, of his man
uscripts.

MEDICAL WORK 261
I have a record of this journey as kept by my
father in 1808, when he was thirty-five years of age.
It is eminently suggestive to me of the proper treat
ment of certain cases of phthisis, and, in the hope
that it wiU be suggestive to others also, I now lay
it before this society. To some sensitive minds it
may seem to be of too private and personal a char
acter to be placed thus freely before any pubUc as
sembly. I have no such feeling when questions of
human health and happiaess are involved.
My father's description of this journey, his prepara
tion of a map with different colored dots indicative of
the stopping places and various stages of his father's con
valescence, made a combination of charming narrative
and scientific truth quite unique, and very entertaining
to his auditors. It was the last paper he ever read iu
public. In his practice my father was not what might be called
a " therapeutist " in the common acceptation of the word,
and he was always rather a skeptic in the use of drugs.
Haring begun to study medicine in the days of the heroic
method of blood-letting, purging, blistering, and tremen
dous dosing, he early felt a distaste for such methods,
and his association with Louis when in Paris only served
to strengthen this feeling. The ineritable reaction from
the teachings of the old school began to show itself in one
form by the birth of homeopathy as taught by Hahnemann.
My father never was tempted, however, to enter the ranks
of homeopathists, because he believed their theories to be
as extravagant and absurd in one direction as the methods
of the old school were so in the other. He always main
tained, however, that the mere introduction of homeopathy
had a salutary effect upon the old methods of practice, by

262 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
showing that people could get weU without the heroic
methods hitherto employed.
In speaking of his professional life, one trait of my
father's character deserves special mention ; viz., his re
markable thoughtfulness of the feelings of his patients
and their friends, and his dislike of inappropriate adjec
tives used possibly in the enthusiasm of the moment by
feUow practitioners in their descriptions of cases.
Frequently I have heard him rebuke, always in a kindly
way, however, some enthusiastic medical student who hap
pened to speak of some " beautiful " pathological condi
tion. " My friend," I have heard him say, " don't use
such an adjective in such a connection. " Interesting, it
doubtless is, but it is not ' beautiful.' " The not infre
quent thoughtless discussion of disease in the presence of
patients he never tolerated for a moment ; and any lapse
in this respect was sure to meet with a gesture or remark
of disapproval which checked further conversation in that
direction. In short, with aU his great enthusiasm for his
profession, he never allowed his interest in his patient's
case to hide the fact that he was dealing with a feUow
human being.
He firmly believed that a physician should be as far as
possible a man of general culture, and should not confine
his knowledge to his profession alone, lest he become " a
man of one idea " and of narrow vision.
I well recaU his words to me when leaving for Europe
as a student : —
" The chief advantage of your going abroad is to
see the methods of medical men on the other side
of the water ; to find wherein they excel or are in
ferior to us. While medicine is your chief aim, re
member that I want you to see aU that you can of
art and music. I often think I have done more

MEDICAL WORK 263
good to some poor weary patients by sitting down
and teUing them of a deUghtful European experi
ence than by aU the drugs I have ever poured down
their throats."
The philosophy contained in these words was, I think,
the underlying cause of the enthusiasm and freshness of
spirit which my father showed up to the last years of his
life. The younger members of the profession especiaUy
felt his breadth of rision, his keen interest in the growth
of medical thought, tempered by the conservatism which
comes from long years of experience. His younger as
sociates came to him always confident of his sympathy,
certain of kindly affectionate counsel, given never in any
Pharisaical spirit, but simply as the expression of his
earnest desire to give a helping hand to those just enter
ing the profession he loved so weU.

CHAPTER XXV
letters, extracts FEOM HIS JOUENAL, ETC.
1871-1886
From my father's voluminous correspondence during
the ten years foUowing his return from abroad in 1870, 1
have selected certain letters, and extracts from his jour
nal, which seem to bear directly upon important episodes
in his life or emphasize marked traits in his character.
TO his DAUGHTER, THEN IN EUROPE.
Boston, Sunday evening,
November 26, 1871.
I am beginning to prepare my report to the
Board of Health (on Intemperance). The " Crystal
Palace " is going on swimmingly — more encourag
ingly than we any of us dared to hope. Drunken
ness, profanity, fighting, are disappearing. Clean
liness and peace are beginning to shed their sweet
influence over the foiJ spot, and all the influence
and all the good has come simply from treating
human beings kindly and decidedly.
Ned is much better, and is now pouring forth
some of the sweetest of his notes to his mother's
accompaniment. Louisa Brown, Vin, and I are his
audience. I do think I am a lucky man, I have so
many blessings given to me. Pray give my kindest

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 265
regards to Dr. Rothe. Find out iE you can if he
ever has received our State Board of Health Report.
li not, I wiU send him a copy. Tell him I want
him to let me know what he thinks of my idea of
drunkenness according to isothermal Unes that wUl
appear in our next volume.
A few days ago I saw by the London papers that
the famous mathematician and inventor, Charles
Babbage of London, was dead, and a pang went
through my heart that I should never see him more.
And now if you wiU keep this, my letter, as a sort of
journal of my Ufelong interest in him, I wiU detail
perhaps more or less clearly the history of my con
nection with him and some others in Europe during
my visits there.
My father was a most modest man, and although
he had corresponded with many of the savants of
Europe, he gave me no letter to them, although I
carried some volumes of his translation of the " Me
canique Celeste " to various individuals in France ;
not one of them, however, did I carry to England.
After remaining a year in Paris, during which I be
came acquainted with Legendre, Poisson, etc., of
the French scientific men, aU of whom treated me
with marked courtesy as the son of their compeer in
America, I went over to England, and spent sIk weeks
or two months there and in Scotland. I visited the
residence of the great Sir WiUiam Herschel, at
Slough, near Windsor, and saw his great reflector
which had made him famous. I wrote my name in
the Ust of visitors, and started on a walk towards

266 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
Windsor Castle. I soon heard footsteps, as of a man
running after me. I turned, and an unknown gentle
man wanted to know iE my name was " Bowditch,"
and iE I was a relative of the translator of La Place.
To my reply that he was my father. Sir John Her
schel (for it was he) regretted that any one of my
father's famUy should have been in his house with
out having notice taken of him. He asked me to
return, but I declined the honor, and saw him only a
few times more at that time, and never reaUy knew
him. Similar kindness was shown to me by the present
Astronomer Royal, then Professor of Mathematics at
Cambridge. I was being led through the large library at
Trinity College, Cambridge (I think), and asked my
cicerone iE I could, without any trouble to him, see
a translation of the " Mecanique Celeste " made by
my father, and which I knew he sent to the Ubrary.
I then mentioned the name. " What," he said,
" are you the son of Bowditch ? Then I must teU
Professor Airy. He would not vrish me to let you
come and go without his knowledge." Accordingly I
was brought to the professor, or rather the professor
was summoned. He and his wife were very kind ; I
took tea with them, and had a most pleasant evening
chat. I had been then more than a year in Paris, and
my rustic manners had been poUshed down. I could
talk a Uttle, and I enjoyed the company of two such
persons. I took tea at the house, and Mrs. A. sang
very sweetly several songs, — among others was Mrs.

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 267
Hemans's " PUgrim Fathers " for my special bene
fit. Altogether I remember them both with pleasure,
but I have never met them since, and they have
probably both forgotten that I ever saw them. Mrs.
Somerville, too, I had also met a short time pre
viously at Paris, and she kindly gave me a letter to
Sir James Mackintosh. Unfortunately he was absent
when I caUed on him at Edinburgh. I name these
things to indicate the relations in which I was able to
stand towards these famous men and women simply
because I was the son of my father.
But with Mr. Babbage I stood in very different
relations. They were those (on my part at least) of
the sincerest affection and respect, although I never
could understand a word he said on mathematics, or
any explanations he attempted about the powers of
his calculating engine ; for he immediately fell into
cosines and angles and functions and square roots,
etc., so numerous that my head utterly refused to
comprehend them. Yet at every visit I ever made
to London, even to my last, I always called upon
him; and he always received me with a winning
kindness and courtesy which, from the reputation he
enjoyed in the world around him, I had Uttle reason
to expect. He always promptly replied to my call.
Why this was so I knew not, save that in my desire to
be able to explain to father all about the " machine "
or " calculating engine," I spent nearly a whole day
and the greater part of the night at his house. I
went about 10 a. m., and he left me to turn and twist
and to examine his machine tiU 5 p. M., when, as

268 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
previously agreed upon, I dined with him. His son
Herschel and I were the only persons at the dinner.
After dinner he and I sat down in the long remem
bered study at Dorset Stieet, Manchester Square,
and we let out our hearts toward each other. He
wanted to know about my life, and about father. I
had met Jouffroy (as told in a former letter) only a
few months before. My most earnest thoughts were
given to the highest themes of liEe and of death. I
talked with everybody about them, and caUed out Mr.
Babbage's views on some of them ; I spoke also of
the dear mother at home. My heart I saw touched
his, and he spoke to me of his dead wife. He aUuded
to the struggles he had had with his father, who
wanted him to give himself up to business instead
of science, — of the contempt or at least neglect of
those who he thought ought to have appreciated his
scientific labors, and of the delight he felt when the
sweet wife expressed her joy at his labors. " She
alone of all I knew sustained me, and in the midst of
my happiness with her she was cut down in her youth,
and I was whoUy alone. I shut up," he continued,
" the parlors and confined myself to my Ubrary and
workshop. I kept aloof from aU society. My Ught
seemed gone out. So it continued for two years.
At the end of that time, at the earnest request of
my sister, I determined to have again a gathering of
friends. And so all arrangements were made. The
rooms were Ughted up and aU looked gay, but I was
not gay. The memory of aU that I had lost came
up before me. I went into the parlors. They looked

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 269
bright and beautiEul. It wanted but a few minutes
before the guests were to arrive. I stood stiU and
thought. Everything looked weU ; but she who
would have shed a Ught on all was no more, and I
shaU not see her here. I burst into tears."
AU this was told so naturaUy and so tenderly that
I was drawn toward him in a way that was whoUy
different to my usual feeUng toward a man. Suffice
it to say, that interview joined our hearts, and I
never faUed to see him, as I tell you, when I went
to London. But we talked of higher things at that
time, and afterwards ; and although thirty-eight years
have passed since, that, to me consecrated night, has
never been forgotten. We talked of God, of Ufe, of
death, of the future, of the divine laws ; I led him
to speak of these higher themes because I was burn
ing with desire to unravel to myself these great
mysteries. It took me many years to gain the sweet
peace I have now ; and whUst in distress it was my
deUght to ask all the great minds I happened to
meet what they thought. I do not remember aU the
purport of these remarks upon aU of these subjects,
but one I shall never forget. About the time I
am speaking of, the 8th "Bridgewater Treatise"
was pubUshed, and Mr. B. unfolded to me some of
the views he subsequently brought out in the 9th
"Bridgewater Treatise." He chose that time in
consequence of his desire to show (as I thought) a
little contempt for aU of that which he considered
twaddle, as given out by his predecessors.
Ever lovingly, Fathee,

270 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
EXTRACT EROM HIS JOURNAL.
September 15, 1872, Sunday evening.
Another real pang of sorrow shot through my
heart this afternoon whUe reading in the " Medical
Times and Gazette" of August 31, 1872, the fact
that my dear friend and most honored master in
medicine, Louis, died at Paris, after a very short ill
ness, at the age of eighty-six. It reminded me of
many most precious hours spent in his society when
I was young and just entering professional Ufe. Is
it possible that I shaU never see him again ? Can it
be that the good God ("le bon Dieu," as Louis
called him at our last meeting) wUl not gratiEy these
longings after a future, when the pure friendships
we have made here shaU be sanctified? At this
hour my faith in the future is strong, as it always
is when a loved one leaves me. I fear I cannot re
view with any skUl the sweet and aU-powerful influ
ences exerted by Louis as a leader in medicine and
as a dear friend upon my whole life, but I must
try. In 1832, late in the autumn, exactly, in fact, forty
years ago this month, I was intioduced to him by
James Jackson, who had studied with him about two
years. They had become most devoted friends ; and
Louis had trained Jackson's mind to strict observa
tion, and had given him at the same time a little of
his own contempt (shaU I say ?) or disrespect for aU
the crude theories of the past. Jackson left for
America soon after, and I continued to foUow Louis

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 271
at La Pitie for two years and three months after
wards, save during the journey that I took to Eng
land and Scotland in 1833. Louis and I became
very intimate. He aUowed me to visit and record
the cases in his ward at any hour of the day. I at
tended, also, his autopsies ; saw his careful methods
of examination; foUowed at his visits, and caught
some of his keen, rapid, but very truthful methods of
observing. Louis was at that time at the height of
his fame, and must have been about forty-six years
of age. He was tall ; and at times I thought a little
severe in his interrogatories to some stupid patients,
but generally he was genial, and his smile was most
sweet. I felt at one of his analyses of a new case
as if new scenes in medical diagnosis were suddenly
opened before me. He always seemed to have such
a reverent regard for tiuth that whatever he said, or
drew out of his patient, seemed full of interest and
worthy of remembrance ; yet, ovring perhaps to this
very quaUty, which prevented him from " soaring "
as Piorry or Trousseau did, he was always followed
by a limited number of pupils. Rarely did more
than a very few, perhaps eight or ten, follow at his
visit, but those of us who did so valued our privi
leges the more. At his " conferences," that is what
most folks woiUd have pompously styled lectures, he
had only a very few more than at the morning visit.
Hi.c! style of lecturing was rather cramped; his man
ner hesitating, and his hand trembled as he told us
his " numerical " way about various diseases. But
what he told us, and what we regarded as the very

272 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
gems of professional learnuig, he had gained by
long, previous years of quiet study in the wards of
his more eloquent friend, Chomel. No two friends
could be more opposite in manner than these two.
A gravity of manner, somewhat severe, and a quick
mode of utterance, a brusque way, in fact, marked
Louis. Chomel, on the contrary, spoke always as
the genial gentleman and scholar, and his words
came from his Ups Uke the natural and easy notes
of a bird. Chomel warbled out his eloquent, truth
ful lectures, winning all students' hearts as much
by his grace and kindly manner as by the medical
learning he displayed, and his frequent aUusions to
Louis's deductions won praise from all of us ad
mirers of Louis. Louis, on the contrary, had not a
very pleasing voice, except later in Ufe, when mel
lowed by time and by sorrow, and then it had a
tenderness all its own when greeting me as his old
pupil. His words were jerked out hesitatingly, and
he never allowed his imagination to run riot. More
over, he never indulged in the abuse of any one,
which was but too common at that time. Andral was
another friend, eloquent, phUosophical, and truthful,
but as we thought, less strict than Louis in his de
ductions ; but he, too, looked, we could observe, to
Louis as his teacher in many things where facts and
not theories were demanded. I had been foUowing
Louis for some months, never missing a day, and
always studying diagnosis and treatment, chiefly of
thoracic disease. I remember being compUmented
and encouraged by the late Dr. Peirson, of Salem,

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 273
who came with me on one occasion and saw what I
did, and heard me talk of cases. " You probably
know more about the diagnosis of disease than any
one in Boston." I, of course, was pleased, but I
turned all the credit to my master beloved.
Towards the spring I was taken with acute rheu
matism, and had my first and only attack of acute
rheumatic fever. For three months I was good, prac
tically, for nothing. On the third day of my absence
Louis sought my room to see what was the matter.
He had inquired about me before. I had stepped
out for a few minutes, and had been to visit a cafe
for breakfast. He subsequently attended me as if
he had been my father, with the greatest tenderness.
How genial and merry his voice at his morning
visits ! " Well, my dear, are you taking notes of
your own case ? You can't do better. It will teach
you immensely about the disease." He reaUy meant
this as truth whUe apparently addressing badinage
to me. A few days afterwards when I told him of
my study of special muscles being affected, but that
now, both hands having been seized, I could not
write : " But, my dear, you should dictate." This
was more than my human nature would permit when,
at a subsequent period of the disease, the pain was
horridly acute. But where is the American professor
who would feel caUed upon to hunt up a French
medical student when Ul, as Louis strove to find
me ? I fear very few would do it. In the foUowing
winter I presented a paper and claimed admission to
the Societe Medicale d'Observation at Paris. Louis
vol. n.

274 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
was president. Barthe, D'Espime, Maunoir, Bizot,
aU eminent men subsequently, were with others then
members. Bizot, I remember, corrected my " obser
vation," which I had sat up all night to finish, fool
ishly drinking demi-tasses of caf^ noir to keep my
self awake, — Biziot, the quiet worker and measurer
of all arteries ; who having achieved that, and written
a memoir that always wUl be quoted, and according
to his master's numerical method, retired to Geneva
to practice medicine. What pleasant friendly times
we had, my friend B. and I, in the old wards and
autopsy room of La Pitie ! Well, by thy aid, dear
friend, I was able to run the critical race of introduc
tion to the Observation Society. Oh, how hard and
yet how good that criticism was to me ! Scarcely
any one let me escape, and every cut I got seemed
to do me good. I grew more strong with each blow.
Louis, in summing up, I remember, was as severe as
the coldest truth. " In omitting to mention one
thing," said M. Louis, " in one part of the paper,
he lost it aU, for vrithout that the whole remark is
worth nothing." I thought it hard, but neverthe
less enjoyed it, for I knew I was learning much and
would learn more under such treatment. At the
next meeting, Louis said, extending his hand and
smUing as he could, "Well, my dear, we cut you
severely last time, did we not ? " I said, " Yes, but
I was grateful for it." And he replied, " A paper
well criticised always is a good one. A poor paper
is beneath criticism."
In 1834 I left him with regret. I then had

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 275
Champmartin's picture copied by Daubigny. It
gives the severe look, but not the friendly face of
the man. I saw him, as I saw Madame La Place,
twice more. In 1859 I showed him my map of
Massachusetts about consumption, and he was very
glad to see me, and we talked long together. But
the pleasantest time was when I again visited Paris
in September, 1867, twenty-five years after my in
troduction to him.
And now he has gone and left me. Another
friend and guide of my youth, helper of my mind,
dear to my heart, gone away, where ? Farewell to
thee, noble, truth-loving soul. God wUl never aUow
thy rich natm-e to perish. But alas, that I shall
never see thee again face to face on this earth ! Shall
we ever meet again? Who can answer that great
question ? Let us all hope, and have entire faith in
God's graciousness. I feel that Louis's death has
seemed to carry me nearer to the grave. May my
old age be genial and placid as his was ! When I
left him he gave me a lithograph (excellent) Ukeness
of himself. His autograph, which he pointed out to
me, is entirely characteristic of the ruling passion
(if I may use that term when applied to science)
that governed Louis in every investigation he made.
"Hya quelque chose de plus rare que 1' esprit de
discernement ; c'est le besoin de la verite, cet etat de
I'ame qui ne nous permet pas de nous arreter dans les
travaux scientifiques a ce qui n'est que vraisemblable
mais nous oblige a continuer nos recherches jusqu'a
ce que nous soyons arrives a I'evidence."

276 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
The following beautiful tribute was written while wait
ing at King's Chapel for the funeral serrices of Charles
Sumner, March 17, 1874. The notes are made in pencil,
upon small pieces of paper, and were found in my father's
Journal.^ I am here to attend the funeral of Charles Sumner,
who died a few days ago at the very summit of his
fame as Senator of the United States. I will try,
while we wait for half or three quarters of an hour,
to give some memories of the great and good man.
I have known him since he left college. I am not
sure that I did not know him as an awkward youth
at the Latin School, but certainly after leaving col
lege I heard of him first as highly commended by
the late Chief Justice Story, who spoke of him as
the first of the young lawyers of the age. I knew
him early as the most eloquent defender of the rights
of the colored race, and as associated with that ear^
nest soul Dr. Howe, Horace Mann, and Longfellow.
By and by his fame led aU of us to wish to see hun
in the councUs of the nation, but his tendencies
were so different from common poUticians' that it
seemed impossible. In the breaking of the Whig
party, and the coalition being formed which finally
placed him where he died, I was intimate with him.
I knew all, or rather some of the temptations that
beset him. He sat in his office and did nothing to
promote his own election, saying always, " I do no
thing. I am asked to pledge myself to one thing
or another ; to one poUtical sentiment or another.
1 Monographs, volume xiv.

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 277
I teU them," said he to me when I dropped in one
morning to chat a moment, and to see how the fight
went on, " I tell them one and all, if you choose
me you must do so on my character as shown here
tofore. I make no promises save to act as I deem
right." He was elected ; and has since been inde
fatigable in his efforts for human rights. I have
at times wondered at his pertinacity in pushing for
ward his measures, but I see now that he saw deeper
than I, and had the greatest good of the country
at heart. He gloried in his country. " What a
glorious thing for you," I said to him after the war,
" to have been a leader and worker of this great
Revolution." " Yes," he repUed, " but stUl I wish
I had been born fifty years hence, for then I should
know of the surpassing glories of my countiy as it
wUl then be." His influence over the countiy was
greater than that of any other one man. Witness the
influence of his speech after the capture of Mason
and SlideU. Our country was (the dead march is now
sounding, and the great bell is toUing. How solemn
and yet how beautiEul and appropriate the sound !)
in tremendous excitement. (Pleyel's Hymn now
sounds from the band outside.) The country was in
intense excitement, and declared they should never
be given up. " Nay," he said, " the country wUl
never set aside its own decided words uttered since
Independence. The right of such search we have
fought against ; and by that we stand. We must
apologize to England and return the men." (I have
returned to my office, the funeral finished, and now

278 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
will try to conclude these brief sketches.) " Mason
and SUdeU are smaU matters compared with the fact
of the country doing rightly." It was quite aston
ishing to see the influence of that speech. In less
than forty-eight hours the whole nation changed its
tone, and the ambassadors from the South went
their way. I think he has done more toward shap
ing the countiy's course to good than any other one
man. He was a prophet. I was opposed to him
when he proposed to vote for Greeley. I thought
him hard on President Grant. His resolution about
national battle-flags, from a misunderstanding, was
opposed ; and the legislature a few years since voted
resolutions which two days before his death were
received by him as rescinded by the free action of
the present legislature. AU he said about the flags
was right. He was the wise prophet. His Ufe and
his death at his post wiU have immense influence for
good upon the young men now rising. I see Vin
f uU of desire to know all about him. His pure life,
his exalted patriotism, wUl be remembered when the
Uttle smaUnesses of his character are forgotten. He
is said to have had inordinate self-esteem. I never
saw it. Perhaps, after all, what was caUed selE-esteem
was merely an accurate estimate of his own powers
and learning compared with those of others.
Well, peace to his remains ! I will only add as
one pleasant incident which came to my knowledge
many years since, and which gratified me at the
time ; viz., that he felt gratified when I commended
his course, because he knew I " would not flatter him

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 279
for effect. The doctor is one of the ' Old Guard '
(of anti-slavery, he meant), and his praise I value."
Our friendship was never disturbed, even when I
assaUed him and WUson as recreant to the cause of
the soldiers in not being active for some ambulance
law. May 15, 1874.
I was asked by the Executive Committee of the
Boston Society of Medical Observation to preside
last evening at a special meeting held for the pur
pose of hearing from Dr. Brown-Sequard a history
of the case of Charles Sumner.^ . . . Ever since the
brutal attack made upon him in the Senate of the
United States, Mr. Sumner has been a martyr to se
vere neuralgic difficulty ; torture, in fact, in certain
respects, which must have made his Ufe a burden to
him, and which, now that they are told to me by
the great physiologist and personal friend, make me
reverence his memory with the combination of deep
sorrow for suffering, and of intense love and respect
which I feel when perusing the liEe of any of the great
martyrs of our race, from Socrates downward to the
present. Sumner, moreover, suffered in secret ; for
some symptoms, though intolerable, could not receive
any aid from sympathy. ... In other words, he was,
by this singular state of things, induced to labor all
day in the Senate whUe almost deprived of comfort
able sleep, save during the first hours of the night.
After four a. m. he was usually wide awake, and
doubtless in full thought upon his life's work, if not
1 Monographs, volume xiv., paper 3.

280 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
suffering the tortures incident to his state. How
little do we know of human suffering ! How little
do we appreciate the essential nobleness of sUent
submission to grief that, it would seem, would cause
anguish beyond possible concealment !
In my Ufe I have at times thought that Sumner
fell short of duty as I understood it. Not infre
quently I have disagreed with him. . . . How this
history of suffering, nobly borne in entire sUence,
suffering for humanity's sake, makes aU my previous
opposition and low appreciation of him seem small
and petty compared with his grand magnanimity !
And he has gone ! I wonder if he now knows what
I think of him and of his many virtues, and how I
love to think of him as a grand exemplar for this
people ; and for myself in an especial manner an in
citement never to faU of hope of doing something to
leave the world no worse for my existence in it and
perchance, to a few loving sovds, a Uttle better.
The foUowing letters to a dear, personal friend are in
serted, because they show how wide my father's interests
were, and how cordial his sympathy to all who were con
scientiously working for the truth in whatever direction.
Boston, July 19, 1873.
My Deae Miss  : I am afraid that you wiU
have to assume alone all the heavy duties of being
a " discoverer," for I find our friend. Dr. Adams,
shrinks from the task of becoming a musical inter
preter, when he knows not a note of music. How-

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 281
ever, you have progressed so far that I think you
ought not to turn back. I wish I were not sixty-five
years old, and could think that my ungoverned dia
phragm would teach me anything in the premises ;
but I want to put the matter before you as an item
of duty. When one has found out anything that
wUl benefit the race, it is no longer a question of
pleasure, but becomes one in which a perhaps pain
ful duty is to be performed. Now nothing would
give me more sincere pleasure than to help you all I
can by introducing your paper to Brown-Sequard
and to his physiological friends. I should rejoice
to hear aU the opposition that might be raised, and
would simply point to your facts and ask your oppo
nents, " How do you explain these ? " and until they
were able to explain them I should like to tell them
they must hold their peace. All you have to do is
to get good records of your facts. I would sincerely
advise you, therefore, to get aU weU recorded in the
language which your pupUs may prefer to use, and
let them teU your story. I fear, if you wait tUl you
fijid some one old enough and learned enough both
in music and physiology to give weight to your
views, the " discovery " may die with you.
On your return I shaU be happy to talk with you.
Meanwhile, throw away aU music save the music of
the birds and of the trees and of all nature. Rest
awhile and be content.
Faithfully yours,
Heney I. Bowditch.

282 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
TO THE SAME. Boston, February 26, 1874.
You have done in aU this matter exactly right.
Do not aUow yourself to swerve from the idea of
presenting aU the facts to Dr. Brown-Sequard, and
at the same time to Mr. B. I pray you think no
thing at aU of others, but simply and quietly, but
under a certain sense of responsibUity to mankind
and womankind in general, give to all of us your
physiological experience. I wiU certainly try to get
the trio to dine with us some day, and then you can
sound the depths of Brown-Sequard's learning to
your heart's content ; but do not worry yourselE if
possible about anything. The dear God rules over
all, and doubtless all wiU be weU, whatever happens,
and no truth, I think, ever dies. Excuse sermon
izing in the wrong place, perhaps, but when I get
disturbed it is so sweet to me to feel that there is
really and truly One on whom one can rest in per
fect peace, and so I suggest the thought.
Very sincerely yours, Heney I. Bowditch.
TO THE SAME. December 15, 1886.
I owe an apology for not sooner answering your
two notes. The fact is that I have seemed to have
every moment of time unworthUy occupied, and yet
I have left undone many things which I shoiUd have
done. Therefore you wUl pardon me.

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 283
Your first seemed to imagine that there must be
many fools in the world. I am convinced of that
daily, and that doubtless I am myself often and upon
some subjects as great a fool as anybody. When,
therefore, I find myselE evidently a fool among fools,
I quiet myself with the thought to which you al
luded in your last. It is (and every day I am more
confirmed in the thought) the only fact of which I
seem perfectly sure. All foUies and sectarianisms,
on any subject, vanish before that great beautiful
thought that God reigns and in the long run wUl
bring things out steaight. Meanwhile, I shall not
bother myselE nowadays (as I used often to do for
merly) about people being asses, and things appar
ently going vrrong. The only thing we have to do is
to strive, each in his or her Uttle circle, and be happy
if we have some Uttle influence for good ; looking
sharply meanwhUe that as Uttle evU comes from us
as possible. Possess now your soul in perfect peace.
Yours ever most sincerely,
H. L B.
In a letter to my sister my father describes a visit to
Dr. Jacob Bigelow, then in his ninetieth year. His account
brings us so viridly in touch with a generation long since
gone, and is so suggestive in the study of the history of
medicine, that I give it almost entire.
Sunday morning, February 20, 1876.
... I had a deUghtful visit upon Dr. Jacob Bige
low day before yesterday, and instead of writing in
my Journal I wiU give you aU the items of our con
versation.

284 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
Dr. B. was born February 27, 1786, so that he
wUl finish his ninetieth year next Sunday. I have
always acknowledged that he was facile princeps
in the medical profession of New England. With
the exception of Dr. James Jackson, Dr. TwitcheU,
and Dr. John Ware, he has been considered of vastly
more powerful intellect than any of our contempo
raries. He is naturally kindly. At times he could
become indignant at wrong, but he always kept per
fect control of his passion ; and though " angry he
sinned not." He had always remarkably clear per
ceptions of things, and his opinion usuaUy carried
great weight because his prudence prevented him
from imprudent speech or action. I appreciate such
a character in these particulars from my very want
of the same quaUties. I have always considered him
one to whom I could appeal and feel sure of an
honest reply. Those who were his intimate friends
have always loved him. All may love him now, so
beautiEul does he seem as he Ues helpless, but bright
as ever in mind, graduaUy approaching death. He
graduated in 1806 and, having been born only ten
years after the Revolution of 1776, his Ufe nearly
spans the centennial period. I knew he must have
seen some of the principal actors of those early days,
and I wanted therefore to get from his lips reminis
cences of physicians whose works I had read. As
the Philadelphia school of medicine has always been
the most powerful of any in America, and as one of
the professors. Rush, was a signer of the Declara
tion of Independence, I asked Dr. B. first about

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 285
that school. Dr. Bigelow' s manner of delivery was
always very slow, at times tedious, in fact, during his
lectures. That slowness of speech has augmented
at least fourfold. In talking he sometimes seems to
have ceased wholly, so long are the intervals between
his terse and clear utterances.
" Yes, I knew the professors of the Philadelphia
school. They have always claimed to have the best
doctors there. I and two others were the sole New
England students. Rush and Wistar I knew. They
were kindly, and the latter especiaUy was warm
hearted. They received the students. Physic was
a savage, and woidd have no intercourse with us ;
we never were aUowed to enter his house. Barton,
B. S., was egotistical, a bad reader and speaker.
Rush was enthusiastic and eloquent ; a great be-
Uever in medicine and drugs. He was an ultra prac
titioner. He often said, ' We can have no reUance
on nature, gentlemen. We must turn her out of
doors in our practice, and substitute for her efficient
art. The vis medicatrix naturce which CuUen taught
is a delusion.' When I was in Philadelphia there was
constant battUng going on between the professors
belonging to the faculty ; Rush and Physic on one
side, Wistar and Barton on the other. The PhUa
delphia school had students from aU quarters of the
country except from New England ; very few went
from here."
I asked about Nathan Smith of Dartmouth, and
afterwards of Yale, a man whom I had always
thought to be, and stiU think, one of our greatest

286 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
New England men ; a man of real native powers,
which it is true were but imperfectly cultivated com
pared with those of Bigelow, Jackson, etc.
"Smith," said Dr. B., "weU, I always thought
him a quackish sort of man, inclined to claim Dart
mouth as a great centre of medical learning."
" What is your opinion of Dr. Holyoke, the first
president of the Massachusetts Medical Society ? "
" Indeed, the only remarkable circumstance about
him was that he lived tUl he was one hundred years
old and was bright then."
I do not think that Dr. Bigelow had a sufficiently
high estimate of the worth of either of these men,
who were really great men in our profession. If they
were not leaders, I know not who may be deemed
leaders. Certainly they both stood, and stand now,
preeminent among their associates in the medical
society of that day.
I then turned his attention to Louis, and to the
effect, iE any, produced by him and by his works, and
he spoke somewhat as follows : —
" Before Louis came, a great many beUeved impli
citly in the power of medicine to cure diseases, and
it would have been deemed a heinous dereliction of
duty not to prescribe a certain round of medicine in
every disease. For example, when I began practice,
I felt myself always obliged to give an emetic in
every case of supposed commencement of fever, or I
should have been held responsible for the death of
the patient, in case he should unhappUy have died
under my charge. Louis's works checked aU this ;

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 287
taught us the importance and necessity of a closer
study of nature and of each fact in medicine."
Although Dr. Bigelow said Uttle if anything more,
I inferred that he considered Louis's influence as
good in overcoming the tendency to believe in the
common rules previously laid down for medical prac
tice, and to which he himselE had unwillingly sub
mitted for a season.
I alluded to the times when Asiatic cholera steuck
our shores. He immediately commenced the follow
ing account, and went on uninterruptedly, save by
the long intermissions between his terse nervous
sentences as above aUuded to : —
" Yes, I remember those times. There was in
tense excitement in Boston when the news came of
the cholera breaking out in New York. The town
councU immediately chose a medical commission to
visit New York in order to learn all that could be
learned for the benefit of Boston as to the treatment
of the disease. Dr. John Ware and I and Flint
[Hunt ?] (at that time the doers of the drudgery of
the city work, caUed the city physicians) were the sole
members of it. I hardly remember how we went,
but I think by the way of the Sound boat, and ar
rived at the usual hour at New York. On landing
we were immediately steuck with the stiUness that
pervaded the city ; it was stUl as death ; there were
no carriages, no pedestrians in the streets. Every-
thiog seemed stricken down. We went out into
Broadway. I said to Ware : ' Ware, this is Broad
way.' * Yes,' he replied, ' it is the city of the plague.'

288 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
We could not choose a boarding place. ' No,' he
immediately said, ' I should say we found it hard to
select a boarding house.' AU were vacant ; and to
select among the vacancies was difficult. Every
body was flying from the city to avoid the malaria.
Indeed, people were dying at a rapid rate. We went
to the hospital. A few patients came in, and I said
to Ware, ' Let us mark these patients, aU freshly
attacked, and let us take notes of the progress of
their cases.' Accordingly, we marked down names
and beds of those most sick. Before night one half
of them were dead. I saw several beds with two
women in them, one dead and the other stUl alive.
I saw several dead but unremoved bodies lying in
the ward. The medical men were all at their posts
trying to do what they could, but many of the nurses
fled and it was hard to procure others. The cur
rent remark of every one was, ' The disease is death ;
if a man be taken, he is gone ! ' They did, indeed,
die in an incredibly short space of time. I said to
Ware, ' Look at these young and apparently strong
men and women, persons who have a right to get
weU, if drugs will cure them ; ' and yet, at our even
ing visit the attendants were laying them out.
" We could learn nothing that cured, and thought
it useless to remain. Accordingly, at the end of
three days we decided to return to Boston to make
our report to the authorities. All was panic in New
York, and we drove a wave of panic before us, so
that on our arrival in the boat before Providence,

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 289
a smaU boat came off teUing us we could not and
should not land. They would have no intercourse
with New York. We protested, but in vain. Va
rious messages passed between us and the town au
thorities. WhUe the latter were deUberating, a mob
of excited citizens surrounded the building and de
clared that no one should land. Finally it was told
to us that the coaches would be allowed to take us
up at Seekonk, on the other side of the river ; [that]
Seekonk was in Massachusetts, and that State might
take care of itself, but that no one coming from New
York should traverse Rhode Island. We retreated
to Seekonk, and got back to Boston about midnight.
The next day we reported to the town council. Our
report was so unfavorable that its worst parts were
not aUowed to appear in print for fear of exciting a
panic in Boston."
I referred again to the honorable fact that while
aU else were flying from the pestilence, the physi
cians stood bravely at their post. He added this
noble tiibute to our profession.
" During my life I never knew a medical man to
refuse to attend upon any case, however dangerous,
where he alone was concerned. Where he would
be Uable to carry contagion to any other patient, he
would of course decUne, and thereby resign virtuaUy
his practice."
Then, as if thinking as a general rule no physi
cian ever thinks of personal danger when caUed to
one sick, he added : —

290 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
" I can truly say that whUe in New York the
thought of danger to myselE never once occurred to
me." I then spoke of the modern ideas involved in the
expression " State or Preventive Medicine."
" Epidemics, usually," he said, " have been short,
though at times severe; and when finished the peo
ple have felt relieved, but have taken no measures
of prevention for the future."
Into the thought of State Preventive Medicine,
as at present understood, his mind had evidently not
been led. Probably this was natural, because his
thought had been simply to destroy our sovereign
faith in drugging, and to foster the belief that dis
eases once produced would in many, perhaps most
instances, run their course, and that the most that
physic (using the term in its widest sense) could do,
woidd be to reUeve and palUate the more prominent
symptoms. In other words, his labors, after resign
ing his professorship in Materia Medica were, first,
to utterly break down what Uttle confidence he had
given us in the Materia Medica ; and second, to in
culcate in us a love of Nature as the curer of disease
by self-Umitation. Thus, about twenty-five years after
Ustening to Rush, did he propound opinions precisely
the reverse of those of his great master upon the
relative merits of nature and of art as handmaids to
the physician. Neither Rush nor Bigelow seized the
modern idea of State Preventive Medicine. In my
conversation I thought I recognized that fact, and I
tried to unravel before him my views of the matter.

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 291
I spoke earnestly, because I beUeved warmly in the
future success of that idea, now just beginning to
germinate in this country and in Europe. He lis
tened attentively, and when I described how much I
hoped for the study, under the power of the State, of
the causes of disease, and their prevention, he chuc
kled as he lay in bed, and looked like his old self
when enjoying a quiet joke. I said nothing, but
expected something racy from his dear old head.
His assertions had been at times so pungent, so pre
cise, and generaUy so true, that I thought from his
manner whUe Ustening to my remarks that I should
get some reply a Uttle grotesque perhaps, but I did
not expect so much of genuine good sense as is con
tained in the following sentences, which were poured
forth vrith the greatest deliberation, but without the
least change or hesitancy of speech : —
" Preventive Medicine ! Well, Doctor, you lay
out a wide field ! — you wiU have to prevent intem
perance. How can you prevent the improvident
experience of men and women ? You wUl have to
teach them what common sense caUs prudence. For
example, suppose a public baU or pubUc dinner —
how prevent men and women from running into that
fire ? You wiU need absolute despotic power to do
that. Then if you should attempt to use your power,
you would have fifty thousand opponents to rise up
against you to prevent your orders from being car
ried out."
Here he remained sUent, and then quietly brought
out the foUowing most wise culmination of aU our
taUi: —

292 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
" AU that can be done wUl be to try to open the
eyes of the people to the dangers which surround
them by a candid exposition of the facts, and of their
consequences." And perhaps that is really aU that can be done ;
but even that is a vastly nobler, iE a heavier task than
to carry on contests Uke those of preceding ages for
the support of various theories set up by one great
leader after another, each and all to be knocked down
by their successors.
I left Dr. B. after a two hours' conversation with
him, deeply impressed with his really very able mind,
which at the age of ninety was so clear, so sagacious,
so witty, so precise in thought and in the choice of
words to express that thought. I had spent a most
delightful morning away from the turmoU of the
hour, in the presence of a representative of the past ;
of one capable of comparing from his own experience
the thoughts of almost the beginning and the end
of om" centennial period.
After bidding him good-by, I talked a Uttle
whUe with his wife and daughter. As I had been
led to respect him by what I had previously known
of him as a physician and man, and as I saw him on
his bed of helplessness, so I was induced to hold him
in stiU higher honor when I learned the following
facts. He began to be bUnd in 1870, and had been
totaUy blind for more than two years. In 1873 he
had a slight paralysis of one leg, and he is becoming
still more helpless every year. He makes no com
plaint, and although as he said jokingly to Storer a

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 293
few months since, "that to live till one is ninety
is not what it 's cracked up to be," he never gives
any expression of unhappiness in the presence of
others. In fact, as one of his family expressed her
selE, very graphically and charmingly, " His deport
ment is so sweet and gentle on all occasions that his
friends almost forget that he is so helpless and so
permanent an invaUd." I asked, "What says he of
his thoughts of the hereafter ? "
" He rarely speaks upon the subject, and dislikes
to talk of theological doctrines, even of Christianity ;
but his faith in God is unbounded. He says, ' I be
lieve ; help thou my unbeUef .' He believes in and
hopes for immortal Ufe."
WeU, Dearie, what a long letter ! I have written
it at various times, and what I commenced this morn
ing I close with a beautiful evening. God bless and
keep you. Lovingly, Father.
In the early spring of 1879 my father was crippled by
the rupture of a muscle of the leg ; the result of a fall in"
the street.
In a letter to his friend. Dr. Thayer, he thus alludes to
his accident : —
I have been summoned twice to Washington by
Dr.  to very important meetings of the National
Board of Health and have not gone, and have pleaded
that I sat aU day, except one hour, when I was carried
downstairs and rolled into the beautiEul PubUc
Garden for an hour, during which for half or three
quarters of an hour I puU along very grotesquely

294 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
upon crutches — so the little girls and big Irishmen
seem to think, for they stand and admire. Speak
ing of little girls, I saw the sweetest expression of
the tenderest compassion for me spread over the
face of one as she observed the difficulty with which
I rose upon my crutches, and then wearily wended
my way ; I was really repaid for my teouble by seeing
that sweet face sadly watching me. I tried to make
her laugh ; but it was no laughing matter to her.
So you see, my dear Doctor, I continue to find some
pleasant things connected with my lameness. I con
stantly think, when I see men and boys and women
and girls skipping along, " Oh, ungrateful creatures !
Do you daUy give thanks for having two legs ? I
don't believe you ever think of them." And yet
what a loss when one leg is lamed or gone ! But I
have had, notwithstanding all annoyances and petty
pains, a great number of blessings. My friends have
fiUed my room with beautiEul flowers ; and each one
seems to have vied with the other to show his or her
kindness. I have traced, since my sickness, the noble
life of WiUiam of Orange ; that great soul so far in
advance of aU around him, and exemplar to all sub
sequent to him ! I have re-read Wordsworth, etc.
I have worked, so far as I could, for the National
Board of Health, and so, by one thing and another
my days have been filled with pleasant thoughts ;
and to crown it all, my brother, noble soiU ! has de
posited in the bank every month a large sum, to tide
me over the breakage of my practice. . . .
Affectionately, H. I. B.

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 295
LETTER TO EDWARD T. FISHER, ESQ., OF BROOKLYN, N. Y.,
SON-IN-LAW OP HIS FRIEND, DR. THAYER.
Boston, February, 1882.
My deae Me. Fishee : . . . I have nothing to
say about your general prospectus, because it is
upon a subject which has not been in my line of
thought. I have always been a practicing physician ;
not an educator of youth. There are two points,
however, which I would commend most heartUy, and
as you desire my written opinion upon them I can
hardly refuse to give it. During my entire school
and college Ufe I never met but one man who, as
m,y teacher, presented any high ideal before me of
my opportunities and my duties as a pupil, or, in
other words, teied to make me a better youth or
man. Charles FoUen, when he gently and almost
imperceptibly led me to study German for my own
sake, and without the least reference to my position
in the class, became one of the greatest benefactors
of my life ; and so far as his influence went, amended
my character. To get above others was the sole aim
presented to me by every other teacher I had met.
Now, although this object was essentiaUy a con
temptible one, it nevertheless rested Uke an incubus
upon all of us during the school and coUege Ufe. I
saw it produce favoritism on the part of the teach
ers towards the high-marked boys ; it caused deceit
and teickery on the part of the pupUs. I saw teach
ers hoodwinked by that knavery ; and they gave
honors to classmates undeserving of them because

296 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
stained with that deceit and trickery. I shaU never
forget how this accursed love of gaining honors
caused one of the most beloved and respected of
our class, the peer of any for his inteUect and moral
qualities, a perfect gentleman, usuaUy, in his manner,
to tear up with scorn a paper just received from a
venerable professor who doled out to each one of us
his high or his low part. The youth angrily scat
tered the fragments of the paper upon the floor, as
he returned to take his seat among the " elect " of
that occasion. As I watched his fine and usuaUy
tranquU face, flushed with passion while doing this
ungentlemanly act, I coiUd not help thinking then,
as I do now, that aU such stimuli to study were
essentially bad in their effects upon human charac
ter. In orthodox phrase, I was suddenly regener
ated within a week after I left coUege. I then saw
the utter foUy of my previous Ufe, inasmuch as I
had been ever straining, not for true learning and
the gradual development of my own Ufe, but for the
ranking of myselE with others higher or lower than
I was in the class.
It woidd have been much better for me if I had
followed my father's counsel, who put before me
the foUowing maxims : " Do the best you can — no
one can do more than that. I trust you. I do not
care for your school or coUege marks."
But how could a poor youth resist the public
opinion of his feUow students, stimulated as that
was by their teachers' powerful influence, and this
last supported by the great public outside of the

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 297
school and coUege waUs? I bid "Godspeed" to
your plan of instruction, that wUl seek to develop
purely each pupU's own character, and rejoice that to
aid you in this most desirable object you have decided
to give up wholly the false system of " marking."
In regard to co-education of the sexes, I settle
that question very easily in my own mind. As wo
man at every age tends, when pure, to elevate man
above his lower propensities, so I never could con
ceive of any good reason for separating the sexes in
our courses of instruction, from the lowest kinder
garten up to the highest professional school. Of
course a wise system of instruction should guide,
guard, and warn pupUs of the dangers which they
may meet in their progress forward. With a care
for human character which you propose, I believe
that co-education wUl tend to the elevation of both
sexes. I remain, respectfuUy yours,
Heney I. Bowditch.
TO DR. AND MRS. THAYER.
Boston, September 25, 1883.
I have read Dr. Beard's lecture ^ and have thought
much upon it. Nay, I have studied the Encyclo
paedia Britannica, etc., in order to decide what he
means, or exactly ought to mean, by the " moral "
quaUties. I am not prepared to answer Dr. Beard
at length, because I cannot. " It is not in my line."
1 Dr. Beard's " Moral Decline in Old Age," volume v., paper 7,
manuscripts.

298 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
Still I have something to say, and shaU frankly say
it. You, Ellen, say that " you know I shall like it."
I regret to differ from you, but I do not Uke it. It
seems to me that Dr. Beard, while telling some home
truths about some great men, makes us aU feel some
what as if a brute of a feUow should say to man in
general: " Of what use is it for you to hold up before
the people a noble ideal ? li you Uve long enough,
you yourself wUl become inevitably, I now teU you,
either a coward, a sneak, or an absolute scoundrel."
Now I do not believe in such a doctrine, yet I get
that from Dr. Beard. Let us look at the matter a
little more closely. Beard was, I beUeve, an honest
beUever in his doctrine, and also an able man, but I
always thought he was somewhat wanting in balance
of character as a scientific personage. Perhaps I
am mistaken, but this is my judgment of him as a
scientific man. I think that this lecture, whUe con
taining some truths, is fraught with evU to mankind
if carried too far. I take the ground that the moral
quaUties, if properly trained through Ufe, that is,
from earUest years, may and do tend rather to im
prove than to deteriorate, even whUe the physical
powers are diminishing. Enthusiasm cannot be said,
I think, to be exactly a moral attribute. It is rather
a temperament, varying more or less in different
persons. What the phUosophers may style it I know
not. I regard it as that natural instinct implanted
in man which spurs him to good or to bad deeds
aUke, — which leads a ranchman to enjoy hard

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 299
work with poor fare and freedom. It inspires the
licentious, drinking young feUow to his vrild dissipa
tion and carelessness of all morals. It urges on
his drinking " loving cup " potations which lay him
and his comrades imder the table. Enthusiasm for
learning, for piety, for reform, etc., is invaluable to
mankind, but it may stir men up to extravagance,
perhaps, in youth, which may become in age more
quiet and more broad, though less demonstrative.
Now this quaUty may or may not lessen as the physi
cal powers decay. So far as the bodUy abUity of the
human being is concerned in carrying out aU his or
her plans for good or damnable or disgusting objects,
it will faU in old age of its usual stimulus to the ex
hibition of physical or moral power. But I deny
that a large set of qualities of a moral kind in man
kind are thus lessened. I claim that there may be,
in a majority of instances, a gradual elevation untU
the end, of high moral qualities in men and women.
You and I have often seen some of them become
more striking and more beautiEul in old age. The
fact is that some inherit infamous qualities, so that
it seems almost impossible for them to resist even
the smaUest amount of temptation to evU ; and, their
surroundings being always bad, they become " dev-
Us incarnate," grovring worse and worse tiU death.
Others, on the contrary, are saints almost from their
birth ; and their temptations are very sUght. Their
good moral quaUties, such as a keen conscience, good
will, and respect for others, their truthfulness and

300 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
fidelity in aU the relations of life, and their pious
confidence in the Father of us all, — these quaUties
and others that might be named do not fail in men,
but, on the contiary, bloom out after the " golden
period " of active liEe has passed. The majority
of mankind are born of the juste milieu type.
Education as it is commonly carried on has no ten
dency, in cases of hereditary evU, to check that evU
propensity ; and very probably surrounding circum
stances would defeat all the aims of education, even
iE we were to try to stem that evil propensity. Edu
cation, however, usuaUy stimulates the inteUect, and
lets the morals take care of themselves. It often
encourages low ambition, emulation for false hon
ors, cupidity, selfishness, and other evU propensities.
The intellect is inordinately stimulated whUe no en
thusiasm for a real nobleness and real independence
of character and religiousness of soul is excited in
the minds of the youth. No wonder, then, that in
many the moral seems to deteriorate in old age. The
great inteUect sustains the man for a time before
the world, and in his own selE-esteem. Perhaps, at
times, he talks for effect's sake, reUgiously and mor-
aUy, when he may have neither quaUty, save in min
imum amount, and it fades even faster than the
physical powers after the golden age for work has
passed. Then the low qualities, cultivated from
earUest years, become rampant ; and the victim may
become more selfish, more crabbed, more fault-finding
with his lot, and more contemptible in the eyes of

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 301
all, while perchance he may become a stUl greater
sufferer from the fact of having at last gained his
own selE-content. Thrice happy is it for all, includ
ing himself, when he dies !
Dr. Beard cites several persons who in their Uves
iUustrate his idea of man's Ufe in this world. I can
speak of but one, viz., Daniel Webster. His intel
lect was gigantic from the first ; his morale almost
nothing from the same hour. My father saw him
once in a great case of some lawsuit about a cotton
machine. Father was studying the machine for
months. He and Patrick Jackson were in despair
at finding that Webster, who was engaged as coun
sel, could not be induced to examine the model, or
learn anything, apparently, of the case. Finally the
day arrived for the trial, when, about an hour be
fore they were to go into court, Webster ran into
Mr. Jackson's office, where father was, and sat him
self on the floor before the machine and said, "Make
it move, and explain it as it goes ! " For an hour he
seemed totaUy absorbed. He went into court and, as
father said, made one of the grandest and most lucid
arguments he had ever heard. He gained the case,
but my father in after Ufe, while agreeing that his in
tellect was " godlike," had always a contempt for him,
for his want of the many sterliag moral qualities that,
iE he had had them, would have sustained him to the
last. In fact, he never had a really keen conscience on
any subject ; and a " defender of the Constitution,"
he " denied that there was any higher law." If he

302 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
had possessed a conscience, even of the commonest
kind, he would not have been perpetuaUy in debt to
the great Whig rulers of Massachusetts. Even the
day before his seventh of March speech he deceived
one of his truest and most devoted friends and par
tisans by leading him to beUeve that he was going
to take a noble stand in behalE of Uberty, but the
cotton spinners of Massachusetts had so long held
him as their paid agent that at the last moment he
bowed very naturaUy to their power, and swaUowed
his own words spoken the day before to his friend.
Webster did, indeed, seem to show at that occasion
a sudden fall of moral power ; but it seems that he
never had any real moral power for selE-government,
and he could not faU lower moraUy in old age than
he was in that respect in youth.
WeU, I must stop. I felt impeUed to protest
against what I deemed, in regard to human nature,
the degrading tenor of Dr. Beard's paper. Whether
or not I have conveyed to you a single new idea on
the subject, or whether you think my argument of
any or of no weight against his position, it matters
little to you. To me it has been a great deal. I
honor and love human nature as I love and honor
God, and my feelings, and I think my experience
with men and women as I have met them in this
world, assure me that I am right in my high esti
mate of what human nature may eventuaUy become.
Dr. Beard gives us not a particle of such hope.
Affectionately yours,
Heney I. Bowditch.

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 303
ANSWER TO A PHYSICIAN'S LETTER REGARDING THE AD
MISSION OF WOMEN INTO THE MASSACHUSETTS MEDICAL
SOCIETY. Boston, June 29, 1884.
Deae Sie, — You could not have been more sur
prised than I was at the result of the voting in the
M. M. S. It only proves the truth of Emerson's (I
think) remark : " Even one is a majority with God
on his side." You quote C  as an opponent.
He has been for months one of the most efficient
defenders of the propriety of admitting women to
the M. M. S.
Suffolk County, whUe better than it was, has
governed the Massachusetts Medical Society, and
has had to succumb to the honest thought and love
of fair play evinced by the countiy. The argu
ments used by  and  and  were to my
mind puerile and absurd; and so they seemed to a
majority of the Council. Your argument about
women going out of their sphere of motherhood,
etc., is perhaps good for women bearing children,
but there are many single women. Have they no
right to study as they please? Have they not a
right to support themselves ? What right have you,
a man, to prescribe what a woman should do in
medicine ? What argument against women can be
drawn from the fact that quacks are abundant ? I
see no argument in the suggestion. What we want
are educated and honest physicians, male and female.
But, tey as we wiU, while human nature exists as
now, we shall always have a goodly number of

304 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
quacks, knaves, and idiots ; with a smaller number
of the nobler type. The Bible you quote against
woman. My dear Doctor, having Uved and having
felt the damnable influence of proclaiming that Bible
" inspiration " supported slavery, I care not a straw
for any such argument against women's study of
medicine. It seems to me not only whoUy wrong,
but it brings contempt upon the Bible to quote it
for such a purpose. The fact that quackery is ram
pant, and that we educated ones (!) are neglected,
seems to me irrelevant as an argument.
RespectfuUy yours,
Heney I. Bowditch.
In 1885, although seventy-seven years old, my father,
whose interest in every new medical suggestion was as keen
as ever, made a visit to his friends, the Thayers, in Brook
lyn, in order to study the " Pneumatic Differentiator," a
machine introduced to the profession by Dr. Herbert F.
WiUiams, of Brooklyn. Boston, March 29, 1885.
My deae Feiends, De. and Mes. Thaybe, — If
you wiU be such " good fellows " as you always have
been to me, you must expect such impertinence as I
propose to show you in this letter.
For years I have been sighing for some means
to dilate old and condensed lung, or parts of lung.
Certain exercises (gymnastic, so to speak) I have di
rected some persons to take — but never have I
thought of such an apparatus as that devised by
your brother doctor in Brooklyn. Vin's return and
explanation does not quite satisfy me, and I want

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 305
again to begin to study the new thing. I propose
therefore {Deo et meis amicis Thayer volentibus) to
be in Brooklyn on Thursday, p. m., with the inten
tion of " digging into " not only the mysteries of
the " Differentiator," but of the cases submitted to
it. Can you let me be with you and yours till the
foUowing Thursday? If that be impossible, can
you get me a quiet and good boarding place, near to
Dr. WUliams's insteument ? I want to say that I am
no longer a young fellow — I cannot dine out, or
go to gatherings of any kind ; and I shall not call
on new physicians, excepting, perhaps, to learn from
them something connected with the use of the " Dif
ferentiator." I feel as iE I were carried back fifty-
three years ; and I see and hear Louis urging me to
study carefuUy aU the facts of this case, in order
to record, weigh, and count them (perpendendae et
numerandae observationes).
Ever affectionately yours,
Heney I. Bowditch.
extract from his journal — THE BURIAL OF GRANT.
August 8, 1885, 1.10 P. M.
The guns that have been booming all day every
ten minutes now sound from the Common every
minute. I have just returned from a walk to Charles
Street across the Public Garden. Everything is Uke
a Sunday ; nay, less busy than on Sunday. A few
persons are on the Common. The Public Garden is
gay with rich green from recent showers, and beds
of flowers here and there. Butterflies flit over them,
vol. II.

306 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
but I meet only two or three pedestrians. I find
no shop open. The toUing of the beUs, — and now
minute guns more frequent, I suppose correspond to
some important part of the funeral pageant now
going on in New York.
Well, it is right for the people to set the day
apart as a notable one, as that of the entombment
of the greatest general of any age. I write with
thought of the exact meaning of the word. Others
may have commanded as vast armies over as large a
field ; others may be known wider than he for deeds
of personal valor ; others may have held on to the foe
with the same persistent energy. Every species of
mUitary renown may have been equaUed by others.
But who among them has had his real Christian mag
nanimity towards the vanquished foe ? Who ever be
fore stood before an infuriated, victorious people and
boldly declared : " The terms are in my hands as com
mander-in-chief of the army, and I declare to those
whom we have finally conquered that we wiU take
no spoUs of war. They are our brothers ; let them
go uninjured, and let the vanquished soldiers take
their horses and all they have and go back to their
homes, and raise their crops ! " This magnanimity
of soul in Grant is what wiU make him, and the vic
tory of Appomattox, for aU coming time noted as the
first time a conqueror ever did so glorious an act.
Compare this act with what the EngUsh did in India,
or stUl more recently what Germany did to France ;
and in both instances, leaving rankUng in the bosom
of the conquered a feeUng for revenge and future

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 307
slaughter ! Look at the facts here ; Confederate sol
dier and Southern men and women are now joining
with us under the old flags as brethren ! Among the
last words of Grant were those of thankfulness that
by his sufferings the people of the South have been
led to pour in upon him words of sympathy because of
his noble treatment of them. The fact of General
Buckner offering to General Grant in his later days
^10,000, to help him in his poverty, and that two
of the chief Confederate generals are now acting as
paUbearers of their great and victorious opponent,
teUs me, more than words can express, what a power
Grant, in the first instance, with the spirit of Lin
coln to animate him in some degree, was towards
making this country again one and indivisible by
the bond of pubUc love and sympathy. In all this
praise bestowed upon our lost leader, none whom I
have heard speak has brought out distinctly the
most magnificent part of his story.
In a later manuscript he says : —
History records no nobler act done by a victori
ous army leader. It turns a new page in the history
of war. It is the blossoming out of Christian civil
ization where least expected, and ought to give im
mortal honor to our great leader.
EXTRACT FROM HIS JOUENAL. July 6, 1886.
As one of the interesting events of my life, I cite
the foUowing. After the late ^ B K dinner, when
we had, as usual, badinage and easy merriment from

308 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
aU the speakers, our presiding officer. Professor
James B. Thayer, caUed up Major Christie, of New
Orleans, a Confederate officer, in the foUowing terms,
as " one who unfortunately was opposed to us dur
ing the late war, but who was a son of Harvard,
though not a member of our fraternity." We were
all on the tiptoe of expectation as the result of these
words. A taU, thin American man, with flowing
brownish-colored whiskers, arose slowly and hesitat
ingly. He seemed embarrassed ; and the haU was in
perfect silence, with aU eyes upon him. As I re
member, after warm applause from aU, which fol
lowed the intense sUence of the moment before, he
spoke as foUows : —
" Gentlemen, I thank you sincerely. I came here
simply as a Ustener, and not prepared to speak, and
I know not what I can say in reply to your kind
teeatment ; but I am a son of Harvard and I have
deUghtful memories of days spent here. I met
many friends. Among the dearest and most hon
ored was an elderly lady named LoweU (' Miss SaUy
Lowell ' ). She seemed to take especial notice of
us New Orleans boys, and received us as a mother
would into her home, because we had left our own
mothers and our homes in the South. We aU loved
and respected her, and felt grateful. I have seen
Uttle of Harvard since graduation, but I have never
forgotten that home and its exceUent misteess. I
entered the late war for what we deemed right {' not
for slavery. Doctor,' as he subsequently told me,
' but for state rights.') I was made a staff officer

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 309
under General Early. On one occasion our corps
was strongly, impregnably, as we thought, in
trenched at the rear of a long, level plain ; but we
saw a large force coming bravely and steadUy to at
tack us. We knew that their defeat was inevitable,
as they could not reach us when our batteries were
open. A gaUant young officer was leading them ;
we could see him plainly. When we opened fire,
the ranks fell in ' winrows,' but stUl they came up
to the attack ; but in vain ! Finally they retreated,
and I was ordered by General Early to go out upon
the field to see to the wounded and to gather up the
arms that had been left. Among those apparently
dead was the brave youth who led them. ' Who were
these brave men, and where did they come from?'
' They were from Massachusetts, many of them from
Harvard, and their leader's name was Lowell.' ^ In
stantly all the sweet memories of Harvard, and of the
dear lady named LoweU, came rushing back upon me,
and I thought perhaps that dead youth was a relative
of hers.
" I assure you, gentlemen, that then for the first
time since entering the service I bitterly regretted
my position. I was completely overcome. Pardon
me, gentlemen, for speaking thus ; but they were sol
dier's tears. I could not check them as I looked
upon the brave youth and thought of Harvard. I
placed a white handkerchief over his face to prevent
injury to it, and directed my orderly to have him
buried in a spot where his friends could easily find
1 James Lowell.

310 HENRY ENGERSOLL BOWDITCH
him. I was glad to learn subsequently that he was
not dead, but recovered sufficiently to be taken to
a hospital, where he died. Gentlemen, I again sin
cerely thank you."
By the time the speaker had spoken thus much
aU ears were attentive, and the eyes of most of us
were filled with tears. The sUence for a moment
after he ceased was intense, and then burst from all
equally-marked applause. People crowded around
him to shake hands with him, some actually weeping.
H., when teUing the incident to his father, said,
" If he had talked any longer, we should aU have
been crying." This remark from H., who is not
usuaUy given to the " melting " mood, teUs the tale
better than my words. It was evident that nothing
further from any one would be agreeable, and with
one accord, at the suggestion of our president, we
closed the meeting in our usual way, by joining
hands all through the company and singing " Auld
Lang Syne."
I put my left hand into that of my next neigh
bor, and threw my right across the dais table to
keep the circle entire by the extended arm of an
unknown professor from PhUadelphia, who was one
of the invited guests. That over, I pushed my way
towards the Confederate brother, and said to him,
" I lost my son in the war, but I want to thank you
for the generous words of peace and reconcUiation
you have spoken." I then asked for his address
and gave him my card. He seemed gratified by the
cordial reception we had given him. Of the result

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 311
of that exchange of cards, and of the subsequent
visit to Jamaica Plain, where he charmed aU, both
young and old, I wiU teU to-morrow. July 7, 1886.
At four p. M. I escorted the Major in the cars to
Jamaica Plain. He was to take tea enfamille with
OUvia and me. " We did not fight for slavery, but
for state rights, which we hold to as steongly as ever.
Slavery has been abolished, and we beUeve that is
weU. We want now Northern capital and cotton
manufacturing to come to the South, where money
could be made. Slavery could not have been abol
ished save by the war. By that the South and North
are now welded into one country." I replied that
state rights were dear to Massachusetts, subordinate
to the idea of a national compact. " I was on Gen
eral Early's staff ; and I often saw and conversed
rarely, and on matters of duty only, with General
Lee. I had a reverent awe of him, as he seemed
far above others. He was tall and dignified, always
perfectly dressed, and of quiet, gentlemanly man
ners. I felt unable to approach him save as an
officer of the highest character. I never met him
without feeling so, and to converse with him on com
mon topics was impossible to me. StonewaU Jack
son I knew weU. He was a noble man ; of rough
exterior, and he wore a slouched hat. His dress
was usually that of a common man careless of his
personal appearance. All, even the lowest soldier,
knew him. Some often cursed him when he marched
us at double quick for twelve or perhaps twenty-four

312 HENRY ENGERSOLL BOWDITCH
hours without food, day or night, on one of his rapid
flights to cut off his enemy, li a halt had been fi
naUy ordered, and the soldiers stUl grumbUng had
thrown themselves down by their bivouac fires and
with nothing to eat, iE even then the news came
along, 'Jackson is coming,' instantly every man
was upon his feet rushing to the roadside with his
share of the cheer, which was continuously given
along the Une. He, indeed, was a great commander
and did thoroughly his duty, though utterly care
less of personal appearances. He was a profound
thinker and truly reUgious man. On one occasion
I had been ordered to meet him at a certain time and
place, — his headquarters. I went there at the time
and was told that he was in the adjacent wood. I
went as directed, and saw him sitting on an old
stump apparently wrapped in thought, with his eyes
uplifted, and a vacant look upon things around him,
as if the spirit had left his body. (The Major was a
thorough Swedenborgian in belief.) I said nothing
and stood perfectly still, awaiting the result. In a
few moments a sudden change occurred. His eyes
looked natural. Seeing me then, apparently for the
first time, he abruptly asked : ' Who are you ? What
do you want ? ' 'I came here. General, in obedi
ence to your orders, and I await your commands.'
' Oh, very weU,' he repUed promptly, and then
gave orders and I left. I felt that he had been
deeply engaged in prayer, and that whUe so his spirit
had temporarUy left the body and that he did not
really see me at first with his bodUy eye."

LETTERS, EXTRACTS FROM HIS JOURNAL, ETC. 313
(I subsequently found that whUe beUeving impli
citly in all the risions and doctrines of Swedenborg,
Major C. also thinks that they are manifestations of
the doctiines of Darwinism and Evolution, and all
spiritual manifestations are merely preliminary opera
tions foretelling of the grander results that are sure
to come.)
In the evening we went to H  's to see his
f amUy and the fireworks (the ith was Sunday) . The
Major attracted everybody, and the Uttle ones sat
upon his knee and clustered laughingly around him.
Later in the evening H  and he discussed the
various campaigns good-humoredly together, and
spoke of victories and fights of either party as neces
sities, — men upon the chessboard of battle. I was
deUghted to see them " hobnob " together on old
Unes. The Major did not wince when H  told
of his being among the first to enter Richmond at
the head of his black cavalry, and how the streets
were crowded by black men and women who wiped
the feet of the Union officers, whUe every bUnd was
closed in every house and not a white person was
to be seen ! All these remarks the Major accepted
as faits accomplis and as the natural language of
an enslaved people when greeting their deliverers.
Now I was deUghted to see this harmony existing
between the two, but I thought then and now that
the grand magnanimity of Grant to General Lee and
his soldiers, and the subsequent action of Congress
in giving all rights to every enemy, save the leaders,
had brought about the feeUng that enabled these

314 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
two officers to discuss harmoniously together the in
cidents of this mightiest war of the centuries for hu
man liberty. The two were the Ulustration of what
seems to me to be the real imion we now have be
tween the North and South ; instead of the heart
burning and preparations for future war existing
between France and Germany, India and her EngUsh
conquerors, etc.
How much of real Christian charity and forgive
ness have flowed from the one <I> B K address of a
Confederate officer, is the general feeUng of aU who
were fortunate enough to Usten to it, and of those
who have heard of it since.

CHAPTER XXVI
LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FEOM JOURNAL
1887-1889
TO MES. GEOEGE L. STEARNS.
May 9, 1887.
Deae Mes. Steaens, — I forgot to leave with you
the riddle^ found in a book of autographs made
chiefly between the years 1610 and 1630. The riddle
has the date of 1742, and is signed by one Fulda, at
that time the possessor of the precious heirlooms of
the famUy Von Olnhausen ; and which had been care
fuUy kept and transmitted to sons of that name for
132 years. The Von Olnhausens dated their origin
from a gaUant Crusader, Heinrich Olnhausen, who in
1388 had been made " Knight of the Golden Spur "
at Jerusalem. The autographs coUected by one of his descend
ants (an earnest student, between 1610 and 1630)
of aU the great personages (nobUity with their
Uluminated coats of arms, professors of many uni
versities, pastors of churches, great physicians, and
lettered young companions) were in two volumes,
1 A M O R E S.
6. Sex fuge,
5. Quinque tene,
4. Quatuor f ac,
Reliqua (R E S) tibi sequentur.

316 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
and by marriage had come into Fulda's hands. He,
with a true instinct, felt that they ought to be in the
hands of his young relative, the male descendant of
the Von Olnhausens. Therefore in 1742 he trans
ferred them to John Frederick Olnhausen, telling
him that he hoped that these precious relics of the
good youth of 1610 woidd stimulate his loving de
scendants to behave as heroically as his predecessors
had done, and he gave the inclosed riddle, which as
I have before stated I forgot to leave.
To finish my story, I ought to tell you how they
came into my possession. Some few years before
the war of the rebellion, a tall, middle-aged German
came into my study, evidently very Ul, I saw at a
glance. There was inteUect and great suffering seen
in his face, but there was a serenity of manner and
quietness of speech which charmed me. I soon
found that he was hopelessly ill ; his wife, an Ameri
can woman, flitted around him, watching tenderly
every word that f eU from him. It was evident that
they were poor. I advised him to enter a hospital,
and I visited him as a friend several times before he
died. I found that he was a patriot obliged to leave
Germany, and had sought this country, devoted as
he thought to freedom, and shocked he had been to
find how rampant slavery was here. Just before
death he wUled to me his SchUler cup, from which
he had drunk Rhenish wine from the time of student
life on the anniversary of the poet's birth. He had
brought the autograph books here, he being the last
male descendant of his race. His wiEe soon after

LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL 317
his death left the books with me for safe-keeping,
when she entered as a nurse the Northern hospital.^
After serving till the end of the war, she went to
Germany and offered herself, and was accepted, as a
niu-se in the Franco-Prussian war. By a stiange
coincidence, among her first patients was one named
Olnhausen. He was of the famUy of her husband.
She subsequently lived there some weeks, and then
returned to America.
Excuse me for this lengthy story. When I fall
upon the history of a really excellent German patient
or friend I find much to interest me, and my pen
flows on freely.
I remain very sincerely yours,
Heney I. Bowditch.
TO THE SAME. Boston, August 7, 1887.
Deae Mes. Steaens, — I neglected to answer your
last letter because I did not forget your kind invita
tion to taste your steawberries at College HUl, and
then I thought I could answer in person. But the
Fates have been against me, and the weather has
nearly melted me, and finaUy after attending the meet
ing of the " black Veterans " I had one of the sharp
est attacks of real illness that I have had for years, and
have been laid up from professional work and motion
for nearly a week. I am now again, I hope, as well as
I can be on the verge of seventy-nine. I used to con-
1 The cup and books were returned after my father's death to the
relatives of the Baroness von Olnhausen. — Ed.

318 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
sider that a man who had arrived there upon his jour
ney might well be prepared to "stack arms" and lie
down to rest. But somehow I do not feel that, spiritu
ally, I can enjoy less than I did, a moonUght night or
a peerless day, a fine poetic thought, or a new advance
on any scientific road that lays itself open to my
view. I think I am more hopeful and move faithful
than I was years ago. I seem to know that aU things
wUl go well vrith me and mine, whatever may hap
pen. I do not look forward much, and as to the
past — I let that go, with the satisfaction that I have
tried never to be a sneak ; but to do the duty of the
moment has been, as Grant says, " my superstition."
Therefore, as I feel comfortable, and hope to be per
fectly well, I wUl say that with your permission I wiU
call on you at College HUl next Saturday at the usual
hour in the forenoon. I mention that day because I
shall go on a vacation for two or three weeks subse
quently. I remain yours very sincerely,
Heney I. Bowditch.
letter to L. VERNON BRIGGS.
March 14, 1887.
20 minutes to 10 P. M.
My Deae Veenon, — Do not thiak me forget
ful, for I cannot forget you. But the tenth is, hav
ing nothing, I seem to have everything to do. You
know I keep always busy. It is the only way I have
to keep the devil at bay. I remember weU the old
bit of poetry I learned when a " Uttle shaver."
" For Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do.'' . . .

LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL 319
I have been reading with the deepest interest the
first report of the state board of arbitration and
concUiation, a most admirable document ! finely pre
pared by men who seemed to appreciate their high
object. I am steuck with the fairness and simple
renderings of the board. I am also impressed with
the quiet, nay admirable bearing evinced by the em
ployees, whUe some of the employers were anything
but gracious. They acted, in fact, in a manner to
bring contempt upon themselves, and in some in
stances seemed willing to resist the reaUy Christian
efforts of the board. The fact is that power once
possessed by any man, tends to brutaUze him. He
acts Uke a czar over his smaU dominions, and con
siders aU under him as mere serfs to his money.
There are glorious exceptions to this rule, stiU I
think it holds good generally ; and according to my
old grammar rules, I say, " The exception proves the
rule;" I have this day launched my address on " Home
opathy," ^ etc. before the Rhode Island Medical So
ciety in the form of a small edition by Cupples,
Upham & Co.
I think I wUl send you a copy, and iE you meet
any doctor, I wish you would let him see it and teU
me frankly his opinion. The young physicians, un
tainted with conservatism, vriU greet it vrith approval.
It wUl be either derided or cursed by many of the
" Past, Present, and Future Treatment of Homeopathy, Eclecticism,
and Kindred Delusions." Address before the Rhode Island Medical
Society, June 10, 1886. Cupplea, Upham & Co., 1887.

320 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
" Old Hunkers," nevertheless it contains, I beUeve,
soUd truth, or I would never have deUvered it.
The ladies stop from " Halma " to send love.
Affec'y, H. I. B.
TO JOHN 6. WHITTIER ON HIS EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY.
Boylston Street, December 16, 1887.
My DEAE Old-time Anti-slaveey and Poet-
Feiend, Whittiee, — " The Spirit moveth me " to
write a few words on the eve of the day on which,
happily for all men, you were born. How many
thousands of silent sympathizers there wUl be with
me to-morrow to rejoice that you are stiU aUve. Dur
ing fifty of these eighty years I have known you, and
what a delight and support you have been to me and
mine ! For you have been a teue man, and a bard
who has known how to touch aU the finest strings
of the human heart. Two events come up vividly
before me to-day as I glance back over om- long ac
quaintance. One of them I am sure you wUl re
member, because we have had a letter or two upon it
lately. I refer to your inscription for my sun-dial.
How much it has been and is still admired I had evi
dence last evening at our Thursday Club. Robert
Treat Paine told me that your lines and those under
the old dial in St. Mark's in Venice he had had in
scribed on the pedestal of a dial he has had recently
put up at his country-seat at Waltham. Many years
ago 1 told him the story of my old dial, and of my
bold appeal to you for a motto for it and of your
generous and most perfect response to my wishes.

LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL 321
The other event you may not remember as well
as I do ; viz., that at my urgent appeal to you to
give us something that would stir up our souls at
the " Latimer Convention " to be held at Ipswich,
you wrote and sent as your message " Massachusetts
to Virginia." I read the lines at that meeting, and
foolishly gave the manuscript to some editor who
never returned it. At that time, however, my whole
soul was bound up with the idea of freeing Latimer
and of persuading the people of Massachusetts sol
emnly to declare by legislative acts that neither their
jaUs nor their offices should ever again be used to
catch and to hold the fleeing slave. I knew well
that any Unes from Whittier would give backbone to
the wavering or the cowards, and stir up the hearts
of all liberty-loving men and women ; and such was
the fact. Whittier's poetry was like the morning
bugle note which often stirred us who Uved near the
ReadviUe camp, in the earUer days of the civil war ;
and my heart now cries out : " Thank God for the
boy that was about to be born eighty years ago !
What a blessing he has been, not only to me, but to
our whole people in the world ! " As a smaU token
of my respect for your birthday, I send a " Greek
Calendar " for 1888, which is just pubUshed, and is
much admired. I think you will fuUy appreciate it
as you read the selections. I have pulled apart my
copy, and have seen how many thoughts, and in some
instances whole phrases, which I had supposed to be
modern, have been borrowed, and at times without
giving them any credit, from these grand old hea-
voL. n.

322 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
thens, as we f ooUshly call them. To only two of these
selections do I object, and they come from some
physician hater, and they were not among the old
Greeks, but at the opening of the second century
after Christ. Instead of one, I quote Homer (lUad),
nine hundred years before Christ. ApoUo goes as the
great physician to cure the sorely wounded Hector,
and when he came,
" He spake and into the great man's breast
Breathed strength and courage." . . .
" So moved the swift feet of Hector, and he flew
To cheer his horsemen on." . . .
And for the second I quote two modern writers.
Sir James Paget, September 2, 1887, says (" British
Medical Journal ") of the physicians : " And so in
toU but not in weariness they pursue their way, sow
ing seed of which they reckon not whether they reap
any fruit ; content because they are in the path of
duty; blessed iE they only see or think that they
minister to the welfare of their feUow-men."
Again : ** There are men and classes of men that
stand above the common herd; the soldier, the
saUor, the shepherd not infrequently, the artist rarely,
rarer stUl the clergyman, the physician almost as a
rule. . . . He brings air and cheer into the sick-room,
and often enough brings heaUng." (See Robert
Louis Stevenson's Preface to " Underwoods.")
And in citing these I think I have the best of the
arguments. The poet, if he be pure and brave, and
perfectly true to the highest ideals, is in my opinion

LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL 323
above aU other men ; — a noble preacher, above all
sects, of a perfect manliness and womanUness to the
erring world.
My dear old friend, I mean no compliment, sim
ply state what I beUeve to be true, when I say that
I deem Whittier one of the selected few among the
bards whose words wUl be forever held in high honor
by aU the EngUsh-speaking races of the entire
world. Good-by, my dear friend. May the peace of God
ever abide with you and both of us untU the end,
which cannot be far off.
Affectionately yours,
Heney I. Bowditch.
On the 17th of July, 1888, my father and mother cele
brated their " Golden Wedding " at Sunnyside, once the
lovely home of his sister, Mrs. J. J. DixweU, on the hiU
above Jamaica Plain overlooking the beautiful vaUey and
the chain of the Blue HiUs of MUton beyond.
I think no one who was present can ever forget it. The
day was most beautiful, befitting the occasion which
marked the consummation of fifty years of a perfectly
happy wedded Hfe.
In a letter to his friend of many years. Miss Mary Hud
son, he thus aUudes to it. Jamaica Plain, Angust 14, 1888.
Deae Maey, — Your letter of the seventh reached
me only yesterday here, where I have been Ul for a
week, but I feel much better to-day and shall go into
town to " do duty " forty-eight hours, and hope to
be quite weU again then. Our memories run back

324 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
almost to prehistoric times, — that is, it seems to
me that when I, as a young man, was careering
around with a bevy of boys and girls at my heels on
the greensward, at the time of one of our Warren
Street Chapel excursions, it was ages ago. I can
not seem to connect the present and the past as one
course. So much has happened and so many have
grown up and are now old men, and so many have
gone ; and I am just toddling onward so irresistibly
towards the tomb ! It aU seems so strange !
Our " Golden Wedding Day," July 17th, was a
perfect delight from morn tiU " dewy eve." We
had no idea what our young folks were preparing
for us. We had many beautiful letters and giEts.
Holmes, Whittier, Winthrop, aU sent cordial greet
ings. These, with all others, I have put in a volume
bound in red morocco ; with a preface by H. I. B.
as a memorial for those who foUow us of the sweet
influences of every hour. This book wUl be put in
Nat's " Memorial Cabinet." Towards evening, when
only friends immediate and dear were with us, we
joined hands and sang " Auld Lang Syne " — and
the finale was from my sweet famUy trio, my " Le "
and her two sons — she at the piano, they singing.
Nothing ever is superior to that in my estimation.
They sang fine German airs (Slumber Songs), and
closed with the beautiful hymn to the dear Mother of
Jesus, "Ave Sanctissima ! we lift our souls to thee."
We both felt that the day, after having been filled
with jollity (Ned as you know always gets me into
hysterics of laughter, and on this occasion was the

LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL 325
source of mirth in others), closed most fitly with
prayer and praise. I said to " Le " as we retired,
" This, I think, has been the happiest day of my life."
WeU, Mary, I have " run on " and have not thanked
you for your friend's pretty book-mark, which we
shall use.
God bless you. Affectionately, H. L B.
TO MES. FEEDEEICK KNIGHT OP MILWAUKEE.
Boston, December 17, 1888.
Deae (Bishop's Lady that is to be) Lizzie, —
I am a bit of a Quaker, and the " Spirit moveth me "
to write a word of congratulation on the new dignity
from MUwaukee. What a prophet I was ! Do not
you remember that I told you I felt sure that your
husband was destined for that high honor and privi
lege ; also, inasmuch as a true manly bishop has it
in his power to do vast good in his diocese, so the
bishop's lady, also, has honor and corresponding du
ties devolving on her ; and her influence for good or
for evU, by example rather than by precepts, upon
not only her own people, but also on those outside
of her own church, wUl be great. The time has
come when aU religionists should look fairly at the
state [?] of the times. Science is showing itself
everywhere, and some fools among the scientists are
claiming that reUgion is a smaU affair made up of
mere ceremonials, grounded on imperfect data. At
the same time, some over-anxious and devoted persons

326 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
seem pervaded with a panic about science and its
work. This is most unfortunate for both. Honest
science can never do harm to teue reUgion. Intol
erance on either side is mischievous. It never has
done and never wiU do good, and I teust that my
young old friends wiU be models in the community
in which they are now called. May God's permanent
blessing rest on both.
Ever faithfuUy yours, H. L B.
FROM HIS MANUSCRIPT.^
In 1870, whUe residing for some time in London,
I visited, under the charge of the poUce, the dweU
ings of the wretchedly poor and vicious denizens of
Whitechapel and Ratcliffe Highway. Our walk was
from 9 p. M. untU 2.30 a. m. I shall never forget that
night tour through, probably, the vUest purUeus of
London. I soon after met and conversed with Miss
Octavia HiU and Sir Sidney Waterlow, both of whom
were then famous for apparent powers of redeeming
the lowest of the low from their degradation and
inducing them at least to keep their houses clean,
and to become more decent in many other ways, by
providing for them good and neat homes. Miss
HUl at the time was in the height of her brave
experiment and real success, and was looked upon
by aU as a sort of Florence Nightingale in civil life.
She explained to me aU her plans; the detaUs of
1 (Vol. ii., paper 2), "Memorials of the 'Lincoln Building,' or
' Crystal Palace.' "

LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL 327
coUecting rents herself, as landlady, and therefore as
one " having authority." All seemed very simple,
but experience subsequently proved to me that to
undertake that work with the hope of pecuniary
success, even of the most trivial character, needed
some of the highest and steongest of human quaU
ties ; with an amount of decision, vrith benevolence
added thereto, which few men or women possess.
It is an inspiration rather than education which is
needed, and, like poetic genius, is rare in this world
and God-given. Sir Sidney Waterlow was a broad-
minded, generous, but most able capitalist. He had
amassed riches, of which he was not miserly. It so
happened that he had had for some time in his ser
vice, as chief mechanic, a Mr. AUen, whose heart was
touched by the miserable abodes he saw that many
of the worthy poor were obUged to occupy, much to
their own discomfort and to the injury of the chU
dren that grew up around them ; and this tender
heartedness induced him to suggest and plead with
the capitaUst to aUow him to design and to erect
homes for the poor, which would be humble, but
reaUy homes to each fanuly. And so the two, as it
were, clubbed together for this worthy object ; both
using their hearts and their brains, one to bring the
funds and the other the mechanical and artistic skUl.
Forthwith the " Waterlow BuUdings " arose, and had
immense and perfect success. PhUanthropy and a
good interest on the money given were for a time
united ; but here, as in the HiU case, there was a
combination rarely to be found. I visited, of course.

328 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
the buUdings, and conversed with the tenants. Many
of them were very poor, but there was a simple
dignity, and at times an aesthetic taste, exhibited by
some which was charming. Flowers were growing
in the windows of the humblest, which fact of itself
proved, as Henry Ward Beecher used to say, " that
the inhabitants who cared for the flowers would cor
diaUy receive a stranger ; and become thereby raised
themselves as human beings." " How beautifully
fragrant your flowers are," I said to one poor woman
as I was passing from her apartment ; and she im
mediately repUed : " And what blessings, too, the
flowers are."
Coming back to Massachusetts, I reported these
facts to the State Board of Health.^
Under the inspiration of these London workers
and works, the "Boston Cooperative Building Com
pany" was incorporated in May of the same year,
1871, and is now in a thriving condition, and paying
of late three per cent, on its capital of over 1 250,000.
It has done, and wUl, undoubtedly, do much good
hereafter, if rightly managed. In early enthusiasm
for attacking the lowest and most vicious cases, the
corporation met with serious pecuniary loss, much
to the discomfort of those who hoped for the reward
gained by the HiU, Waterlow, and AUen buUdings.
I regret to say I must confess to a fact (which the
directors wUl not deny, I think) that it was a good
1 " Homes for the People, Convalescent Homes," etc. Second Re
port of the Massachusetts State Board of Health. 1871.

LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL 329
deal owing to my influence that the company leased
the " Crystal Palace." This was an immense build
ing three stories high, with outside corridors in front
and at the rear and on each story. It was in deri
sion named, from its very contrast to all that was
lovely and grand in the fairy-Uke " Crystal Palace "
erected under the guardian care of the prince con
sort. It was a huge mass of filth and vice ; a brood
ing nest for all sorts of crime and vice. If ever
an abode could be called a " hell upon earth," the
" Crystal Palace " was one. Drunken men and wo
men were often found upon the corridors ; ragged
and dirty children swarmed, and drank in profanity
and wickedness every moment of their young Uves.
It was the kindergarten of future crime ; a nuisance
to the neighborhood and to aU Uving in it. . . .
At our first official visit we found one drunken
woman upon the upper corridor, lying exposed to
all the passers-by upon the opposite side of the
steeet, and so that two of us who led the party had
to guide her stupefied body into the nearest open
door to let the rest of the committee go its round
of inspection. It was a bad omen, I feared, and
augured iU for our success in phUanthropic effort or
pecuniary profit. We took hold of the work eagerly,
however; we shut up the grog-shop; we declared
that no drunkenness or filth should be allowed in
the buUding, and gave due notice that failure on
the part of any one to foUow this rule would lead
to the expulsion of the offenders. In like manner

330 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
we determined that there should be no more night
brawls. We succeeded after a time in preventing
the " Lincoln BuUding " (as we christened it on leas
ing it) from being a nuisance to the neighborhood ;
but the whole construction of the house was such that
neatness and the real comfort of home could not be
gained as in modern model lodging-houses for the
poor. We endeavored to influence the chUdren mor
aUy by establishing an industrial school for jobbing
and repairing furniture. We opened also a system
of five cents savings, which were deposited in the
School Steeet Five Cents Savings Bank. The indus
trial school was a success.' It was one of the first
industrial schools in the city. It was, I think, one
of the rootlets, so to speak, of the present magnificent
estabhshment inaugurated (by Mrs. Quincy Shaw)
in North Bennet Street, and of the industeial teach
ing recently supported by the city. . . .
In regard to the Five Cents Savings Bank, I hope
some good may have come from giving to the chU
dren the idea of " saving their pennies." AU of the
eighty-nine chUdren have been for many years in
the maelstrom of Ufe. Where are they, or stUl better,
how are they ? I trust not the worse for the influ
ence of the " Lincoln Building."
The pecuniary result of the corporation was a
serious loss, crippling it for years, from which it is
slowly recovering vrith less enthusiasm for " fanci
ful " philanthropic enterprises than it had originaUy,
but doing exceUent service in its maturely selected
sphere of beneficent work.

LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL 331
TO DR. BAYARD HOLMES, CHICAGO.
Boston, July 30, 1889.
Bayard Holmes, M. D. :
Deae Sie, — I have to thank you for your very
interesting and instructive pamphlet on " Secondary
Mixed Infections," which you kindly sent to me.
The vast fields that are opening before us in the
bacteriological studies of these later days (although
at my age I cannot foUow them) excite my warmest
enthusiasm ; and I congratulate the younger mem
bers of my profession on what they are to glean
in the future from these studies. How much wUl
the already grand scope of preventive medicine be
widened ! I shaU not be one to help, but whilst I
Uve I trust that I shall always be ready to give a
cordial " Godspeed " to workers Uke yourself.
RespectfuUy yours,
Heney I. Bowditch.
In answer to an inritation from Dr. Charles A. Powers,
secretary of the " New York Hospital Graduate Club," to
unite with the club at the fourth annual meeting, he
writes : — Boston, May 9, 1889.
My Deae Sie, — It would give me the sincerest
pleasure to meet the members of the Hospital Gradu
ate Club, but it is, I think, physically impossible for me
to do so at present; and then suppose I did appear
among you, what could you do with me save to examine
me as a f ossU hospital graduate who had been buried
more than a quarter of a century before any of you were

332 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
born into the sacred art of medicine from your vari
ous hospitals ? Nevertheless, I cannot tell you what
delightful associations your letter brought before me
of some of the fine souls to whom that hospital appren
ticeship introduced me ! Who of you, residents of
New York, for example, do not remember with affec
tion and respect, my senior by one year in the Mas
sachusetts General Hospital, that grand, generous,
noble-spirited man and able surgeon, WiUard Parker
of your city ? He met me as junior (he, however,
being in the surgical department and I in the
medical), and with that condescension so natural to
his kindly nature made me feel at once at home in
my new duties. He was one of those characters
who doubtless do always more for other men than
they have any thought of doing ; and although I
afterwards met him as an equal, I could never help
looking upon him as a superior being, and these, my
earliest impressions of him, I carried with me to his
grave. I perhaps might speak to you of my father
in medicine, James Jackson ; the wise, careful, kindly
and skUlful hospital physician and warm friend, who
first showed me where and how to feel the pulse fifty-
nine years ago. Then, too, who could ever forget the
great surgeon, John C. Warren, of that day, who was
always cool and coUected under all, even the most
appalling circumstances ; who never made more than
one bold incision of the proper depth when he knew
that would be enough, instead of torturing a patient
and the crowd of students, as one of his coUeagues

LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL 333
did, by half a dozen cuts, each one of which caused as
exquisite suffering as the one bold one of the real
surgeon, as Warren was. I never saw his superior
in America or Europe. Remember we had no ether
then. I forbear to mention the name of one of those
bunglers. We had our quiet hours of admiration
for the surgical abUity of the one, and savage con
tempt for the presumption and overweening vanity
of the other. You know as weU as I that hospital
" internes " always feel able to criticise severely their
superiors behind their backs ! It is our time-honored
privUege, never to be resigned ! But a truce to these
thoughts. Let us foUow a kindlier strain. How de
lightfully refreshing come up to me under your in
vitation the halcyon days of my hospital residence,
with aU their pleasures and their profits. I sin
cerely hope that each one of you can gather from
the memories of that year of residence as much
pleasure as I do now : with just enough and not
too much responsibiUty — fine introduction to the
weightier duties of active professional Ufe. Then
and there began a career that has always been to
me one of the deepest interest, and which lessens not
at aU, but rather augments as each year rolls on. I
haU with the liveliest joy each new glory of modern,
clean, antiseptic surgery. These triumphs, with the
fine developments of bacteriology, wiU mark the
century towards its close as anaesthesia marked its
earUer times as one of the greatest in the history of
our art.

334 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
It ought to be a source of infinite joy that we are
aUowed to Uve in such a grand epoch, each prepared
to do his share of the work coming before mankind.
I thank God that now, on the verge of eighty-one
years, if some fairy were to give me the power of
selecting again my career in liEe, I would select our
dear and noble profession before aU others the world
coiJd offer ; feeling assured that by so selecting I
should be more certain of a true development, in-
teUectually, moraUy, and physicaUy, than by any other
course I might follow. Let me terminate my letter
as I began it, with thanks to one and aU of the club.
Let us all ever honor our profession, and by our own
conduct in connection with one another and with the
outside world, make our art in the eyes of aU behold
ers more and more beautiful as a means of aUeviat-
ing human suffering, and of developing in ourselves
aU the finer traits of human character.
I bid Godspeed to your club.
FraternaUy yours,
Heney I. Bowditch.
TO FEANCIS J. GARRISON. June 15, 1889.
My Deae Gaeeison, — I cannot consent to receive
compliments at the expense of two men whom I hold
in such high esteem as I do Bradburn and Wright.
Both were of a " sui generis " type ; men of power
of speech and of writing ; at times extravagant in both
particulars, but true, however, I think, to their ideas
of anti-slavery right. I found Wendell PhUlips and

LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL 335
Edmund Quincy often quite as distasteful to me and
as unjust to others as either Bradburn or Wright
were. All four of them at times, were, I thought,
offensively sharp on anti-slavery men who did not
agree with them. I could bear with equanimity any
thing from your father. His glorious maxim : "My
country is the world and my counteymen aU man
kind," and his first utterances in the " Liberator "
that he " would not equivocate, and would be heard "
on the great subject of human freedom, in my eyes,
covered much that at times distiessed me. I could
bear everything from him, although I not infre
quently differed from him in thought and actions,
so much did I honor, love, and respect him, as the
great leader of anti-slavery in this country ; but I
kicked against others, even when they used, perhaps,
his language. I aUowed his denunciation of the
course pursued by the " Liberty party " and " Free
SoU party " to pass quickly from my mind. Spirit-
uaUy, I considered that he put on colored glasses
when vievring those wretched or fooUsh persons, as
he deemed them, who believed in voting rather than
in the disunion cry. Smaller men screeched his
word, and were so far imitators, and almost intoler
able to not a few of us in the vituperative denuncia
tions of men as honest as themselves.
Affectionately yours,
Heney I. Bowditch.

336 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
TO FREDERICK DOUGLASS, UPON HIS APPOINTMENT AS
MINISTER TO HAYTI. July 1, 1889.
Hon. Feedeeick Douglass,
United States Minister to Hayti :
Feiend Douglass, — I thank God and take cour
age on the future prospects of the two races in this
country when I learn that you, after aU that you have
gone through of abuse, riots, and trials of many kinds,
have been chosen by the President of the United
States to represent our whole nation at Hayti. I
rejoice for your sake, for our own sake, and for the
people of Hayti that such a wise selection has been
made. How much good is involved in this nomina
tion ! May you show the wisdom and prudence you
have shown in the past. I hope that your success
may be perfect. God bless you and yours.
Ever sincerely your old anti-slavery friend,
Heney I. Bowditch.
FROM FREDERICK DOUGLASS.
Cedar Hill, Anacostia, D. C.
4th July, 1889.
My Dear Dr. Bowditch, — Please do not expect me
to give you the fuU measure of my thanks for your
kind words and wishes in view of the new duties soon to
devolve upon me, for I cannot do this in words. I can
only say I thank you most sincerely. I am very glad
you thought weU to write me. I shall treasure your
letter. With many misgivings I accepted the mission to Hayti.
I distrusted my qualifications for the office, but, coming

LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL 337
to me as it did, unasked, unsought, and unexpected, and
with the earnest wish of the President that I would accept
it in the interests of the peace, welfare, and prosperity of
Hayti, I did not feel I could decHne it. I shall leave a
comfortable home and a healthy climate, and shaU proba
bly have to occupy a trying position ; but I go forth hope-
f uUy, and aU the more so because you and many other
kind friends share my confidence and hope. The enemies
of freedom are wont to point to Hayti as an argument
against a happy future for the colored race in America.
They say, " Look at Hayti ! " And it is true, she is at
this moment in a most unhappy condition ; but so have
been the South American states ; so were we a few years
ago ; so is France now ; and so has France been for many
years. She has had twelve revolutions in a single cen
tury, and may have another in less than twelve months.
Hayti is but a child in national life, and though she may
often stumble and fall, I predict that she wiU yet grow
strong and bright.
Again, my dear friend (the friend who first gave me
shelter and a place at your board when I began my anti-
slavery career here in Boston eight and forty years ago),
I thank you for your letter.
Ever truly and gratefuUy yours,
Frederick Douglass.
to francis j. garrison.
ISLB AU Haut, Me., August 7, 1889.
My deae Feancis Jackson Gaeeison, — I have
just finished the perusal of the sheets of your dear
and honored father's liEe, and I cannot resist the
incUnation to write to you of a real deUght I have
had in so doing. I thank you heartUy for letting
VOL. n.

338 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
me see it. It gives a most just (as it seems to me)
and f uU account of his Christian heroism from first
to last. While evidently written by loving hands,
you have not allowed yourself the privUege (which
many would under such circumstances have taken)
of expressing that love, save indirectly. The won
drous story from the first establishment of the
" Liberator," with Knapp only to help print, and not
one subscriber, until the last visit to England where
everywhere he was honored by the best and noblest
EngUsh men and women, reads in every Une like a
true tale, impartiaUy and judicially given, I think.
It is a perfect success. I congratulate all of you
who have helped to raise this splendid monument
to a man who, " take him for all in all," stands, I
think, superior to aU others of this country as a de
voted lover of liberty, never dismayed, always self-
reliant and hopeful, because he was a beUever in the
God of justice. Like an old prophet, he summoned
this slavery-ridden nation before the bar of retri
butive justice, and made his accusations heard by
aU peoples. His memory wUl be revered by thou
sands who never saw him, and to untold genera
tions he wUl be an exemplar of the embodiment of
the loftiest virtue, undaunted bravery, and beautiEul
reUgious trust.
How blessed his chUdren to have such a memory
before them !
I remain, my dear Garrison, sincerely and affec
tionately yours,
Heney I. Bowditch.

LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL 339
The following note is written in his Journal preceding
an article from the " Boston Evening Transcript," of Mon
day, August 12, 1889, entitled " A Visit to the Home of
J. G. Whittier by a Former Abolitionist, John N. Bar
bour." In the interriew Whittier aUuded to my father as
one of his companions in the anti-slavery conflict.
I preserve this extract from the " Transcript "
because of its reminiscences of anti-slavery scenes,
which I deem some of the most important of my
anti-slavery career. What a blessing the " Garrison
Mob " has been to me aU my Ufe long, because by
it I was led to take an open stand for Uberty and
justice, and at a time, too, when friends advised to
the contrary, and my professional success was, in
their minds, bound up in my foUowing the crowd
and damning or sneering at Abolitionists and their
"isms." I have found aU through life that the
vigor given me by the earlier anti-slavery work has
been of immense service in the various struggles
for woman and for UberaUty of thought in the pro
fession, etc. Garrison's sense of right and wrong,
and his deep religious convictions, his clean, scimitar-
Uke (at times) conscience, although I could and
would not f oUow his lead in anti-slavery or other
work, have been a perpetual stimulus to do rightly
as I understand the right. The anti-slavery conflict,
therefore, has always been a source of joy to look back
upon, and to use iE need be in actual life. Hence
the idea that the dear and noble poet, Whittier,
takes me as one of the remaining " brothers beloved "
in that contest, is very grateful to me now [1889]

340 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
when tottering, as I weU see daily, with increasing
loss of power, to the grave. Thank God that I was
true to my deepest, holiest instincts when I assumed,
in spite of obloquy, the sacred name of " AboUtion-
ist;" and now, if my voice or pen can touch the
hearts of any of my descendants, I would beg of
them always to be teue to theu* owu highest instincts,
and then to leave the result with the dear Lord of all
men of any and aU sects, and of aU reUgious and
races. He has been my support aU my Ufe. With
out it I would not wish for Ufe. It seems to me
that I coiUd not Uve easUy a single moment without
it.
H. I. B.
The following extract from an address to the Harvard
Musical Association at its semi-centennial anniversary re
caUs my father's sense of fun when he used, in the pre
sence of his family, suddenly to carol forth in most
extraordinary fashion a refrain from an old song, " Morn
ing its sweets is flinging over each flower and spray,"
accompanied by various ridiculous pirouettes and gestures.
After some unusual vocal contortions he would declare
solemnly that when in Paris he had been offered one
thousand francs a night if he could be induced to sing
this song to the Emperor. My childish mind was always
greatly impressed by this statement, which I for a long
time supposed to be true ; and I never shaU forget my
father's laughter when, in after years, I told him that I
had always believed what he had told me, but thought
that his voice must be greatly worn when I listened to
him. After alluding to my grandfather's love of music, and
his decision to give up playing the flute because at one

LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL 341
time it brought him in contact with companions whom he
thought undesirable in their morals, and in consequence
of which he denied the study of music to his children, my
father thus alludes to his own experience.
. . . But he could not stamp out the intense love
of music which at my birth was implanted in me. I
whistled as a child early, and at aU times. My earU
est impressions were of the notes I produced ; they
came as freely as they came from the bobolink who,
dancing on the dry mullein stalk, warbles forth his
rich notes in our spring days. I rejoiced in my
tones as much as the lark does in his, as he " ascends
towards heaven's gate." My loving mother, being
a pious woman, would sometimes say, as I think
now, in despair, " Do for the land's sake (she did
not Uke to say Lord), Henry, stop whistling." My
father would launch poetey at me, and cry : " He
whistled as he went, for want of thought." Ah,
no ! How much was he mistaken, for some of the
sweetest, divinest thoughts have come to me aU my
life long through music, although incapable of play
ing at any time or upon any instrument. How shall
I ever forget the scornful look which father gave
me on one occasion when, fascinated by the music
of the Salem Infantry Company (I presume it was
the Light Infantry, for surely even I, a little feUow,
could never have foUowed the Republican [Demo
cratic] Cadets of that day), I foUowed closely, march
ing with the soldiers up the main street in Salem,
and expecting of course that they would turn down
Federal or Chestnut streets, and bring me home in

342 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
time for dinner. I followed them a Uttle way up
along the turnpike, still hoping for their return.
FinaUy, as I subsequently found, they were going to
Lynnfield Hotel to have a "good time." I returned
disconsolate, and was met with shocked looks from
aU. My father seemed to look upon me as con
temptible. Alackaday ! What teoubles music had
brought upon me! Nevertheless, I loved it; and
though it became a part of my conscience even not
to learn on any instrument, I stUl whistled. I en
tered college and soon was thrown in contact with
my lifelong dear friend. Rev. Mr. Babbidge, of Pep-
pereU, Mass. He played divinely, I thought, on the
flute ; and we had frequent " duets " at the open
vrindow-seat in old HolUs during my junior year,
I whistling the " first " and he playing " second "
to it. Such dulcet tones attracted the attention of
Robert C. Winthrop, a classmate, president of the
Pierian Sodality ; and being in want of some bass
instrument to play on in that body, proposed to me
to try the bassoon. What should I do ? Conscience
said " Nay." Love of music said, more strongly,
" Take up the offer." And so, braving my father's
chiding and instructions, I plunged in medias res.
Imagine me then, not knowing a single musical note,
seated in my low-studded room in the upper story
of Hollis ; but Phoebus ! what notes I brought out !
" Whoop ! " " whoop ! " and " whoop ! " again, without
variation, was aU that I could accomplish. I must
say that I was thoroughly disgusted with myselE and
with all mankind about me ; and the next day I po-

LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL 343
Utely returned the bassoon to Winthrop, declined the
honor of membership to the classic Pierian Sodality,
and decided that I was too old to begin then to try
to learn new tricks. But music has been aU my life
long my delight and my inspiration. I have listened
(whUe standing three and a quarter hours in the
Sistine Chapel) to the " Miserere," and was almost
persuaded thereby to become a CathoUc. Under the
magnificent and grand arches of Westminster I
have been thrUled by the magnificent anthem " His
Body is Buried in Peace; His Name Liveth For-
evermore," as it was sung before thousands of the
great men and women of England, gathered there
at the reinterment of the bones of John Hunter,
one of the noblest of men, and whose name will
float down the centuries as one of the grandest
and ever-to-be-remembered disciples of our medical
profession. Thus, gentlemen, I have sketched the teials of my
youth ; and I compare them with what occurs now.
Music is not now necessarUy or commonly connected
with drunkenness. Music can be the delight of
every family, for every chUd now learns music as a
part of the primary education.
Before closing, let me aUude to two persons whose
influence has been for the last quarter of a century
leading up to this blessed result. I aUude to John
S. Dwight, who, by his " Journal of Music," and his
very able and always generous criticism, has upheld
the divine effect of music on the human mind and
heart; and to Henry L. Higginson, who, by his noble

344 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
generosity, has sustained for so many years the
Symphony Concerts, which have in reality educated
the present generation to a high appreciation of all
that is beautiEul and noble in orchesteal music.
TO MES. M. C. WHEELER.
Moss Hill, Jamaica Plain, September 8, 1889.
Deae Maey, — I return the fine patriotic extract
from " Metastasio," because I think you may wish
to keep it sanctified as it has been by being cher
ished by the patriot mother of two noble youths
who were, in obedience to that thought or sentiment
brought out by the poet, risking their Uves for the
country's weal. What a time that was ! How young
and old arose, determined to meet the emergency,
even with their Uves, and every kind of suffering if
need be 1 I never think of those days without a thriU
and joy unspeakable that I was aUve and able to
labor and suffer for the dear country's cause. A
divine halo seems surrounding me and mine when
ever I bring up to " my mind's eye " " the dear
young soldier." He Uves now in the young of our
famUy. Alfred's Mary told me only two days ago
that her Uttle girl, having seen my Uttle memoir of
Nat, wanted " to know her ' uncle ' who f eU bravely
in the war." The anecdote is very sweet to me, for
it seems to prove two things ; viz., first, that Nat's
story stirs up the young of our race to thoughts
of self-sacrifice for noble ends ; and second, that I
acted not fooUshly when I printed the simple out
line of his life and of his brave death, not for the

LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL 345
purpose of praising the dear, beloved youth, but for
just the end attained, apparently, in this instance.
Affectionately yours, H. L B.
TO MISS MARY W. OWENS, OF SAVANNAH, GA.
Boston, September 17, 1889.
Miss Owens, Deae Madam, — I was very sorry
when I called yesterday morning at the Thorndike,
to find you had only a few minutes previously left
for the South. After the very short interview I had
with you on Friday, I had not been in Boston tUl
Monday morning. Then, as the weather gave some
evidence of becoming pleasant, I was proposing to
ask you and your friends to drive into the park and
thence to Brookline. This would have given you
an opportunity of judging of the pretty environs of
our city.
I thank you for your kind note received on Mon
day. It comforted me, as I had felt that possibly you
would think me very ungracious in my brief reception
on Friday. Be assured, dear Miss Owens, it is not
only my pleasure, but I deem it also a sacred duty
due from every Northern man or woman to greet
most cordially any persons from the South. North
and South have both grievously suffered in conse
quence of the late struggle between us. Even in
the midst of that contest, however, I always felt
that the battle had arisen necessarily in the provi
dence of God. I firmly beUeved that liberty and
slavery coidd never in these days coexist under the

346 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
same banner ; but I said often that had I been a
Southern-born man, I should have been as ardent
for the Southern cause as I was for that of the North.
I gave aU credit to the bravery and thorough re
Ugious honesty of such a man as StonewaU Jackson
as I could give to any of our Northern heroes. And
since the war I have been very desirous in every way
in my power to restore the kindly feeUng between
the sections as formerly bound old Virginia (mother
of presidents) to Massachusetts, of Bunker HUl and
Lexington fame.
Excuse this long letter ; but you must " take the
wiU for the deed," and I hope that if you or any
of your friends visit our city, you wUl let us know
early of yom* presence, so that we may do more than
at our late interview I have been able to accomplish.
With kind regards to the famUy of my friend. Dr.
Thomas, I remain. Yours respectfuUy,
Heney I. Bowditch.
This letter was written in answer to a formal inritation
from the Loyal Women of American Liberty to attend a
mass meeting to protest against Southern outrages against
the American negro, on November 20, 1889.
113 Boylston Street, November 17, 1889.
To THE Committee of Loyal Women of Amee-
ICAN LiBEETY :
Ladies, — I am obUged to you for your poUte
invitation to me and my famUy to attend a mass

LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL 347
meeting on November 20, in the interests of the
American negro, but a previous engagement will pre
vent me from being present. If I could, however,
attend, I fear that the meeting would not exactly
please me ; or if I should speak my own mind I doubt
iE I should meet with anything but a faint response
to my remarks, and I think I should have opposition
from many. I do not beUeve in hypocrisy ever re
buking sin, as would be the case iE the North were
to utter its anathemas against recent " Southern
outrages." When we of the North treat the negro
as he ought to be treated, viz., as an equal, without
the least thought of his color, so far as his rights
and our duties are concerned, then, and not until
then, should we have " mass meetings" against other
people who view the matter differently. I hope you
wUl not beUeve from this frank avowal of my
thought that I would apologize in the slightest de
gree for " Southern outrages ; " not a particle more
than I defended formerly the " outrages " perpe
trated here under the influence of slavery. Lovejoy,
Torrey, and CrandaU, with a host of others whose
names might be mentioned, — martyrs during our
education to our present partial freedom and equality
at the North, — would cry out against me as a recre
ant to human rights if I palliated "outrages" on any
one, black or white. The South is going through
the teemendous ordeal of self-education in the com
monest principles of Uberty and equality about which
we Northern people prate, God knows, enough. But

348 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
where can you find a colored man who is received
by universal pubUc opinion in Massachusetts as an
equal to the white man ? My dearly beloved and
most honored, ever-to-be-remembered friend, Lewis
Hayden, came nearer than any one else I knew of
to gaining that equality before the masses which is
granted to a white man, however vulgar and low he
may be. Great progress is daily making toward the
more righteous judgment. Harvard and Cornell
have both shown that the youths of the nation are
preparing to deal justly in this matter ; but they are
sparse examples to be quoted against my statements
in regard to general public opinion here. It is stiU
grossly unjust and unchristian towards the negro. I
do not, therefore, Uke, as I said at first, the idea of
hypocrisy (in the North) rebuking " open devUtry,"
as it may at times be (in the South), in the teeat
ment of the negro. The whole nation is slowly but
surely being regenerated from the vUe influences of
slavery for centuries, and it is not fitting for one
portion of it to claim a right to blame another, but
we should help all, and be sure we ourselves are just.
Let the " unco guid " first cast the beam from their
own eyes before acting as reformers, save by their
own brave examples to their neighbors.
I remain, ladies, RespectfuUy yours,
Heney I. Bowditch.
The reminiscences of Lewis Hayden, to whom my father
alludes in the foregoing letter, make a fitting close to this
chapter.

LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL 349
PROM HIS manuscript.* April 8, 1889.
This really noble specimen of humanity died AprU
1, after months of almost constant and at times severe
suffering. Having known and loved him as a valiant
comrade in the thirty years' war against slavery, I
want to jot down while I can, some of my memories
of him, and facts relating to him learned from others,
and finally my own estimate of him as a man.
He was born a slave in Kentucky, and was married
to his devoted and loving wife when she was scarcely
fourteen years of age. She lives, his widow, and
their golden wedding would have occurred in a few
days had he Uved. Their joint lives have been a
complete tissue of loving and mutuaUy-respecting
work. She told me a few weeks ago, when speaking
affectionately of him and of their long union : " In
deed, he had a chance given him to escape into Ohio,
but he refused to start for the ' North Star ' untU he
could bring me along with him. He had one master,
and I another, and we had to be careful. Finally, all
being arranged, we rowed across the river to Ohio and
thence fled to Canada." There they Uved four years.
Afterwards they were at Deteoit, and finally came to
Boston, where he kept a clothing store in Cambridge
Street. When precisely I became personally acquainted
with him, I cannot say ; but it was almost immediately
after the Garrison Mob. His house at No. 66 PhUUps
I Thirty Years' War of Anti-Slavery, chapter xiv. " Reminiscences
of Lewis Hayden."

350 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
Street was already weU known to me as the temple
of refuge for any hunted refugee from Southern
slavery. He was no non-resistant, but was prepared
to fight for them if necessary. William and EUen
Craft had shelter there. From there I carried WU
liam to Brookline (in 1850, when eluding the slave
hunters). During aU this time of dreary and dread
ful waiting he was their inspiration. During the
Shadrach rescue, Lewis Hayden was one of the
leaders. I am well aware that members of the His
torical Society wUl protest against all such acts. I
thank God, on the contrary, that Lewis Hayden Uved
and led his foUowers to the deed. The act stirred
the nation, and was one of the greater influences
which led indirectly to the final extinction of the
accursed slave system in the country, which was de
bauching some of the noblest of our citizens, and
riding roughshod over aU the commonest and plain
est ideas of the Uberty won by our fathers. AU
these years of anti-slavery zeal and honest labor had
led those who knew Hayden to respect him as a man
of uncommon bravery, having much of common
sense and energy in any department to which he
might be called. He was admitted by aU, both
whites and blacks, to be a born leader of men. He was
just the man, therefore, to be caUed to aid our great
"war governor" Andrew, when the government,
after months of hesitation, decided to raise black
regiments. Lewis was of infinite service in going
West to gain recruits among the fugitive slaves in
the Western states and Canada. In this work he be-

LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL 351
came associated with that singularly noble man,
George L. Stearns, who, after having been for years
one of the great and munificent aiders of the " Under
ground RaUroad," was connected with Governor An
drew in gathering recruits, using his time and money
without stint in whatever he deemed the most holy
of causes. In 1858, Hayden was appointed messen
ger at the State House, and he held this office until
his death.
Born a slave, and with the physical characteristic
so far as color was concerned of the African race as
we see it in this country, he raised himself to a lofty
manUness by his practical good sense, his honorable
behavior wherever placed, his undaunted bravery,
and fortitude under difificulties, his modesty, his re
spectful treatment of others, jouiing with a proper
self-respect unswerving integrity under aU circum
stances ; and by these qualities he endeared himself
to all who came in contact with him. Let us thank
God that such a man has grown up amongst us to
prove to all people that, with the aid of our free in
stitutions, every human being can, if he wiU foUow
in simplicity and truthfulness the path which each
day opens for him, finaUy reach that goal which all
ought to aspire to, viz., the approval of conscience,
or the voice of God within us, and the approval of
mankind, and thus become perchance an exemplar
for others who are to foUow. Lewis Hayden's career
from first to last ought to prove a beacon light to
every one of us. God grant that we may not shut
our eyes to the way it points out to us.

352 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH AprU 11, 1889.
An immense crowd was gathered at the African
church this morning to attend the funeral of Lewis.
The time passed by in various discourses, and the
presiding officers asked for short speeches before I
was called on. I " let out" briefly, unsatisfactorUy,
too, to myself. I never felt so oppressed before an
audience, and I feel it now ; as iE I had lost in his
death a great hold on life. Lewis has been for fifty
years, without my knowing it almost, so great a part
of my Ufe's best thoughts that, without the idea that
I shall meet him again, I feel intensely saddened. I
seem to care to do nothing. I trust this paralysis
of energy wiU not last long.
FROM manuscript.^ January 7, 1890.
The Secretary of State said he considered him
" one of the best men he ever knew," and as repre
sentative of the State he consented to act as one of
the paUbearers at the funeral.
It was my privUege to see Lewis often during his
liEe of active anti-slavery work, and my melancholy
pleasure to minister to him in the great suffering
during his fatal illness. His deportment was that
of a man disposed not to complain of any suffering
however great. It was a blessing to see him. His
wife, whom he had loved for nearly fifty years, was
devoted to him, although suffering herself from
1 Volume xii.. No. 15.

LETTERS AND EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL 363
effects of chronic rheumatism. He always greeted
me with the sweetest of smUes, and extended hand.
One day I said to Mrs. Hayden, " Lewis seems
somewhat distressed. Is he comfortable about his
money affairs?" "Ah, doctor! were he relieved
of those he would be at comparative peace," she
said. I then learned that the interest on a mort
gage on the house was hanging over him. " It is a
shame that a man who has been so excellent in every
relation of life should be distressed about money in
his last hours," I said. A committee, consisting
of WiUiam Endicott, Jr., Colonel HaUowell, John
Ritchie, and H. I. B., was soon inaugurated, and the
resiUt was the mortgage was paid off, and aU debts
Uquidated, and a smaU sum, nearly $1500, was in
vested. AU were placed in Colonel Hallowell's
hands. Lewis's last hours were blessed with the feeling
that he would die out of debt, and that his faithful
vrife (most worthy of him) would not be left vrithout
sufficient means of support.
About three weeks before his death he asked me
to accept (as payment) a gold watch, which he said
he had used from soon after he became connected
vrith the State House, and when punctuality would be
required of him. I saw it was a valuable one, and I
laughingly said, "Ah, Lewis, you may want it again ;
I won't take it now." But he was determined, and
a few hours before death his wife put it in my hands
and said, " Lewis says you must take it," and Lewis
smUed assent. After his death I thought of selling
VOL. n.

354 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
it and adding the sum to her Uttle property; but
when I spoke to her about it she would not consent.
She was glad I had it, and Lewis wished it, and she
could not consent to its sale for the purpose I
spoke of.
I shaU wear it tiU I die. H. L B.

CHAPTER XXVn
CLOSING YEAES
1890-1892
In 1890 my father and mother moved early from the
city and went to Peterboro', N. H., where they passed the
summer and early autumn upon the farm of Mr. J. B.
Shedd. The house is situated upon the slope of one of the high
hUls above the little viUage, commanding a beautiful view
of Monadnock and the intervening valley ; a constant de
light to my father, as he used to sit at his bedroom win
dow when writing or reading or arranging old letters and
manuscripts, the collections of many years.
In spite of increasing bodily infirmities, he indulged in
his old love for making rustic seats in different parts of
the farm. Upon one high, sandy knoU, part, eridently,
of an old glacial moraine, in fuU view of the grand moun
tain, he erected a massive wooden seat, and dedicated it
to the memory of some of his anti-slavery friends.
When the various structures were completed, he organ
ized a procession among the inmates of the farmhouse, and
rites, both of serious and comic nature, were performed,
in which every one took part.
Frequent aUusions to his work are made in his letters
to friends during that summer.

356 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH

TO MRS. GEOEGE L. STEAENS.
Peterboro', N. H. At Mr. J. B. Shedd's.
June 30, 1890.
Deae Mes. Steaens, — If any persons ought to
rejoice, aU anti-slavery people ought to do so, at the
thought that Harvard has, at last, given a blow to
colorphobia such as has never been given before.
How much would Mr. Stearns rejoice at this mar
velous change ! What great events we have seen
during the past halE century ! ^
I am here away and under the shadow o£ Monad
nock, amid superb scenery, Uving with my vrife and
daughter at an excellent farmhouse. The rest it
gives me from the perpetual noise of Boylston Street
is charming, but I do not gain strength since my
fall in February. However, I walk a little, and with
others' help have built up a solid rustic seat with
" W " on its back, to mark our Whittier's initial. It
stands under a wide-spreading maple, giving a dense
shade all day. From it one has a splendid view of
Monadnock. I call it Whittier's seat. Have you
read his beautiEul lines entitled, " Wachusett to
Monadnock " ? Read it if you do not remember it,
and enjoy as we all enjoy anything that our friend
writes. Sincerely yours,
Heney I. Bowditch.
^ This refers to the fact that the graduating class at Harvard had
chosen a colored student for the class orator.

CLOSING YEARS 357
His allusion to BerUn in the foUowing letter refers to
the statements of Koch about tuberculin, which created
such excitement among the medical profession at that
time. TO DE. henry B. baker OF LANSING, MICHIGAN.
(Within sight of the beautiful Monadnock.)
July 16, 1890.
My deae Doctoe Bakbe, — I am here (just on
the verge of eighty-two years of age) for a long rest
from city work, and at a most delightfvd spot imag
inable, at a farmhouse upon a hUl, and surrounded
by an amphitheatee of hUls and semi-mountains six
or eight mUes distant, and vrith Monadnock as the
" Kohinoor " of the whole. I am reveUng in fresh
breezes, and have plenty of good mUk and eggs, bread
and butter, and fish regularly. I brought up your
report and a large number of medical papers, and
to-day have thoroughly examined yours on the " Re
striction and Prevention of Communicable Diseases."
If ever I envied any one I envy you the joy you
must feel in making your final summary (p. 73).
The idea that any State which has been under your
guidance as a sanitarian for years has reached the
point of saving human life that Michigan has gained,
must be beyond measure delightful. I long to be
young again, in order to be able to meet you and
others in the same field, and to earnestly work with
you in this most glorious and humane career. I do
not fear to write to you thus enthusiastically, because
I am sure that you sympathize with me. Every
thing you have done for your commonwealth has

358 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
far surpassed my most sanguine hopes as expressed
at the closing sentence of my centennial address in
1876. You have youth and energy on your side,
and I have no fear that you wUl cease your efforts,
and you wiU gain stiU more rewards for your labors.
Good-by, my dear doctor. God bless and keep
you ever. Sincerely yours, Heney I. Bowditch.
P. S. I hope you are going to Berlin. You
ought to be there.
P. S. 2d. I wrote the above letter immediately
after finishing the smaUer pamphlet, and had passed
over the larger on " The Climatic Causes of Con
sumption." This also you have done admirably, and
given ample proof of the deleterious influence of
exposure to cold air.^
I open my letter to ask you to send to W. D.
Chase, M. D. of this place both of your papers.
The State Board of Health of New Hampshire is
sending out questions relative to phthisis, and Dr.
C. has asked me to assist them, and I want him and
the board to see what you offer for their consid
eration. to ABBOTT H. THAYER.
Angust 2, 1889.
My deae Abbott, — Thanks for your kind note on
my birthday, and for your affectionate remembrance
* This statement should not mislead the reader as to my father's
views upon the importance of fresh air, of which he waa a most ear
nest advocate. He only refers to undue exposure of the body to cold.

CLOSING YEARS 359
of me. The friendship existing between our family
and yours has always been precious to me. Your
father and NeUie sent to me most pleasant notes — aU
of which have tended to make my beginning of my
eighty-third year day most sweet.
Ned and Vin came last evening, and I have heard
their singing, accompanied by their dear mother on
the piano.
The world increases in beauty as I pass onward.
All events seem ordered in mercy, even when appar
ently most sad. I am an optimist, as I always was
even in my dreariest hours ; and I thank God I can
always see Him even in the clouds that at times have
surrounded me.
God bless you and keep you ever in His sweet
peace. Affectionately your friend of fuU " 82,"
Heney I. Bowditch.
to de. WILLIAM HENRY THAYER.
Peterboro', N. H., August 13, 1890.
My deae Doctoe, — I ought to have answered
long ago the fresh and loving messages from you
and Mrs. Fisher on my birthday. The only excuse I
can make is that I have been daUy devoted to physi
cal work of putting up my two seats in front of
Monadnock, and at evening I have been so " dog-
tired" that writing has been impossible. To-day
housed as I have been, save in the forenoon, by a
magnificent shower, I feel able to respond to your
friendly messages.

360 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
I said to Olivia, "Pray say nothing about my
birthday — as I am quite happy and wish to avoid
a ' fuss. ' " But such messages as yours and NeUie's
go right to my heart, and I thank you both most
cordially for them.
Give my love to NeUie, and tell her I wish for
her all joy and peace, and ask her to take this mes
sage as answer to her affectionate letter. I heard
from Abbott. He had a " sitter from Boston " or
perhaps he might have called here, as you suggested
he might.
Good-by, my dear, long-tried, beloved friend ; my
love to your wife, whose bright face I now have
vividly before me, as I knew it long ago.
Affectionately, Henhy I. Bowditch.
TO DE. T. W. PARSONS.
Peterboro', N. H., August 8, 1890.
Dear Dr. Parsons, — Again I have to thank
you for the "CoUects " received. And what prayer
can be more aU-embracing than that for the " eighth
Sunday after Trinity ? "
This Monadnock, under whose benignant influ
ence I have been living for two months, helps me
like a perpetual aspiration to keep erect and teue.
Its phases are infinite ; and all suggest God's power,
glory, and beneficence. The sunset in its gorgeous-
ness at times almost overwhelms me with awe. At
other times it suggests supreme beauty and infinite
graciousness in its light clouds, fringed at their edges

CLOSING YEARS 361
by long, deUcate, and often wavy lines of a more
than golden light. A few nights since, a curious,
almost magic and stupendous, effect was produced.
The top of the mountain was covered with heavy
clouds of rough aspect, making it resemble the head
of a huge animal ; while the larger part of the moun
tain unobscured stretched far away along the hori
zon until it was lost to view. The whole was like a
behemoth couchant. The effect was grand in the
exteeme, and by it I was led into a teain of sUent
worship of "Him first. Him last, Him midst and
without end."
For nearly half an hour this scene continued,
and then the evening shades and heavier clouds
carried all into the darkness of a starless night.
I never but once saw an equally grand effect from
mountain and cloud and sunlight, and that was
nearly sixty years since, when driving in " vettu-
rino " in the northern part of Italy, and Mont Blanc's
peak appeared far above the clouds gilded by the
setting sun, which had been long lost to us travelers.
I wish you could have been with me on both occa
sions. May the sweet peace of heaven ever rest over you.
Ever sincerely yours,
Heney I. Bowditch.
TO ABBOTT H. THAYER: WRITTEN JUST AFTER HIS RE
TURN FROM peterboro'.
113 Boylston Street, October 20, 1890.
You veey deae Fellow, — I know you loved us
just as weU as if you had left your summer work to

362 HENBY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
come over and see us, and see and feel Monadnock
from a point of view which we daUy had for f our
months and a half. Only think of that ! Then you
could have enjoyed yourself in teying our various
seats, so arranged as to show off the glories of that
mountain with its coronet of hiUs, and all the while
you would have been steeped in poetic and free
thought such as I had while making the initials of
Whittier, LoweU, Emerson, of PhilUps, Garrison,
Chapman, Stowe, ChUd, and FoUen.
" The home circle " celebration you would have
entered into, I am sure, with a zest aU your own.
But then you could not do these things and pro
perly attend to your own work, which God has given
you to do in this world. So let us sing with the
French, —
" Je suis content, je suis heureuz,
Chacun doit I'etre dans ces lieux ; "
wherever that " Ueux " might be. And yet, you dear
fellow, I know you must have cause for deep sor
row. Nevertheless, you are one, I feel certain, who
vriU bring out of your very woes a divine joy, after a
time at least. AU beautiful to me have been all the
afflictions that, during my eighty-two years of this
life, have from time to time faUen upon me ; for out
of the very depths of my woes He has always sent
His divine messenger bringing comfort and heavenly
peace to my soul. One does not know what life is
untU he has suffered.
WeU, good-by. God bless and keep you and
yours. We are aU well, and send love to aU the

CLOSING YEARS 363
Thayer family — at Dublin, Brooklyn, and wherever
else the various members of it may be.
Affectionately yours, H. L B.
The beautiful summer at Peterboro' seemed a fitting
climax to the united lives of my father and mother. Never
had the latter seemed more radiantly happy than in
those memorable days.
In spite of the fact that, not long after their return to
the city, my father showed symptoms of the return of a
malady which it was hoped had been checked, my mother's
beautiful serenity and sweetness of disposition in the
affliction were never more apparent.
On Thanksgiring evening, she had the happiness of
having aU her children and grandchUdren about her ; and
it was a picture never to be forgotten, as she sat with
beaming face watching her little granddaughter, seated
upon the library table, blowing soap-bubbles with all her
might. That night she showed the first symptoms of iUness ; the
beginning of a heavy bronchial cold, as it appeared to be
at first, but which, a few days later, developed into pneu
monia; and on the morning of the tenth of December,
surrounded by her nearest and dearest, she peacefuUy feU
asleep. My father's Ufe virtuaUy ended with hers ; and although
bearing his loss with wonderful patience and sweetness,
he never rallied from the shock, and from that time on
he grew visibly weaker. The following letter, written one
month after my mother's death, to friends in Scotland,
reveals his attitude of mind.

364 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
113 Boylston Street, Boston, January 10, 1891.
Mes. and Miss McDonald, — Dear friends and
friends whom I shaU probably never meet in this
world. I thank you for remembering me and my saintly
wife at Christmas. We have always highly valued
your friendship, gained through our dear Vin.
You see I begin my letter as if I were alone ; and
in the foUowing sentence I use the pronoun " we,"
because the beloved "Le," though gone from us,
seems ever near to me, blessing me as she did when
aUve. She died December 10, of acute pneumonia super
vening on bronchitis. She retained her thoughtful,
loving kindness to the last to all around her. She
seemed to have no pain or special distress, for which
I am so thankful.
I wish you two ladies could have known her, for
I am sure you would have loved her as all others,
young or old, did. A perfect wife and mother she
was during her American life.
BeUeving, as I do, most firmly in a loving Father
above, superintending aU the events of my Ufe —
my own experience of suffering proving that just in
proportion to the suffering is a corresponding bless
ing to eventually flow, if we suffer without complaint,
so I await a supreme spiritual blessing from this last
most terrible affliction.
In truth, I think I perceive already a kind of " re
generation " going on within me as each day roUs

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CLOSING YEARS 365
by, and whUe Uving in the world I seem raised above
its common trials, and hope for a Heaven-sustained
peace which I would fain hope wiU give pleasure to
the beloved one in her new sphere.
Excuse me if I seem to write unintelUgible phrases
for your perusal, to whom I must write my inmost
thoughts or nothing.
May God bless you both, and keep you in his
sweet peace.
Remember me kindly to the soldier and his wife !
I should like to let all of you see Boston and the
great places in the West.
Ever sincerely yours, Heney I. Bowditch.
Of his condition in the foUowing months, it would seem
almost too sad to write ; and yet, were I not to do so, I
should fail to emphasize that which gave to aU who knew
him best such lasting proof of his brave, sweet patience in
bearing affliction.
For years he had recognized the symptoms of the malady
which he knew would probably shatter him, both mentally
and physicaUy. It was a staggering blow to him when
this was first, recognized, about twelve years before his
death, and great mental depression foUowed for a time.
He rallied, however, and, without a murmur, accepted
what seemed to be inevitable, never for a moment, appar
ently, losing the implicit faith he had always shown that,
in his suffering, there was some purpose intended. For
several years there was a cessation of abnormal symptoms,
and it was hoped that the disease had been conquered ; but
just previous to my mother's death they again recurred,
and from that time he had to endure the torture of mind

366 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
known only to those who, while failing rapidly in mental
vigor, are, at the same time, perfectly conscious of their
condition. In the following summer of 1891, in accordance with
his own wishes, he went again to Peterboro', to revisit the
spot that had been haUowed by the memories of the pre
vious year.
Although almost incapacitated for work, either mental
or physical, the greater part of the time, he nevertheless,
while in Peterboro', occasionaUy wrote a letter to an
old friend, or walked about the farm, rerisiting the seats
which he had made in the preceding summer. His
thoughts and words were constantly of my mother, of her
beautiful influence upon his life ; while his chief desire
seemed to be that he should not be left long after her.
He wrote to his friend. Dr. Thayer : —
Peterboro', July 7, 1891.
My deae Doctoe, — I cannot teU you what de
light your Abbott gave me by making a caU upon
me at " our farmhouse " in front of Monadnock. He
" dropped in " suddenly upon us yesterday, and I
hugged him as I should a dear chUd, and for a half
hour we had a sweet and bright talk, which seemed
to put new life into me ; for I must teU you, my dear
Doctor, that since my sweet EngUsh wiEe left me I
seem to be a whoUy changed man — a prostrated
man, soul and body, and Abbott's call was heavenly
in its influence upon me.
What a man he is! What a talker he is! Free,
sincere, fuU of honorable feeling and a true revei^
ence. If he Uves he has a high destiny before him,
I think.

CLOSING YEARS 367
For myself, I feel daUy more and more that my
day for efficient work is past ; and since Olivia died,
my sole desire is to go where she is, although I have
chUdren and grandchUdren of priceless worth.
Love to EUen and to aU your "folks" who are
near you. God bless you, and give you peace.
Affectionately yours,
Heney I. Bowditch.
His greatest pleasure was in watching the ever-changing
riew of Monadnock, a constant source of deUght. To
him each sunset was more beautiful than the last ; and as
I recaU him, seated upon the piazza of the little farm
house, gazing at the beautiful riew before him, the picture
which Victor Hugo draws in " Les Miserables," of Mon-
seigneur Bienvenu's visit to the old reformer, and of his
finding the gentle, sweet, old man, when dying, seated
before his little house, gazing at the setting sun, rises
before me.
In September he became rapidly worse, and we were
obUged to bring him back in a special car to the city, be-
liering that the end was not far off. Upon his return to
the home on Boylston Street, however, he rallied again,
and, at times, the mind so sadly clouded became clear,
and there were flashes of his old-time interest in outside
affairs. One day, when receiring a caU from a medical friend,
he slapped him with vigor upon the back and said:
" Doctor, are n't we going to do something with this Koch
business?" Even a short time before his death, he wrote the follow
ing birthday letter to Whittier, probably the last one he
ever sent.

368 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
Boston, December 16, 1891.
My deae Whittiee, — How beautiEul is the up
rising of a people to do the poet honor for Ufelong
defense of Uberty and righteousness ! I pray let
me, too, join in the chorus of happy voices that are
blessing Whittier's natal day. I am too Ul to leave
my chamber, or I should personally love to caU on
one who has been such a lifelong deUght to me.
I do so wish to see you at least once more in this
world, but I quiet that desire at times by repeating
some of your poetry, which has been such a blessing
to aU of us for so long a time.
May God bless you and long preserve you to us.
Lovingly your old anti-slavery friend,
Heney I. Bowditch.
During the last weeks of his life, we had a small piano
placed in the haUway, just outside his bedroom, and in
the evenings he usually asked for some of the songs
which had become dear to him through association.
Weber's " Agnus Dei," and Mrs. Hemans's " Ave Sanc
tissima ! we Uf t our souls to thee," were always the ones
he specially selected. They were the last songs he ever
heard, a few nights before his death.
One evening he said to my sister, " Good-night, my
blessing, — blessing, — blessing. Feel every time you
wake my heart's blessing on you. Vin has been up to
sing me to sleep." My sister said, " I wish I could sing
you to sleep, dear ; " and he said, " You sing in your own
way." Later, my sister read him the verses for the day,
and he said, " How lovely our family life has been, don't
you think it has? I have always tried to make home
lovely, — oh 1 and your dear mother, — was ever any one

closing years 369
more lovely ? If any one asks me my belief, I tell them
I am sure the future is under the same loving care as the
present, and I know all wiU be as beautiful in the future ;
so I have no care, but I can't give them details."
Days and weeks of sore mental and bodily weariness
came, but finaUy, an acute onset of iUness occurred and
he rapidly faUed. Two nights before his death, I leaned
over him to ask him if he suffered, and the feebly-whis
pered words, " No, dear, — wish that the end would come,"
were the last he ever uttered. On the morning of
Wednesday, January 14, 1892, he died.
Those of us who stood beside him then could have no
thought other than deepest thanksgiving.
On the morning of Saturday, the 17th of January, pre-
rious to the funeral services at church, the cof&n was
placed in the library, and while there a touching incident
occurred. The widow of his friend, Lewis Hayden, came to the
house, although old, and a cripple from rheumatism. She
ascended the stairs with difficulty, and asked to be aUowed
to look at my father's face. As she stood by the coffin,
she said, with deep feeUng, but as if to herself, " You
dear old saint I If it had not been for you I should have
been in the streets," eridently recaUing the fact of my
father's efforts to redeem their home from the mortgage.
She seemed inclined to Unger, and finaUy, a dear family
friend, fearing the effect of the cold room upon her, sug
gested that she should come into another part of the
house and rest. Turning her head a Uttle, she said, very
gently, " Don't think me queer ; you know the disciples
stayed and watched ; let me stay here alone ; " and her
wish was granted.
For many years my father had been not only her own
staunch friend, but had devoted, she knew weU, the best
VOL. II.

370 HENRY INGERSOLL BOWDITCH
energies of his life to the welfare of her down-trodden
race. Thus, the old negro-woman, born herself in slavery,
gave, at the last, her beautiful tribute of respect and love
to his memory.
Later, services were held at the Arlington Street
Church, by the Rev. Brooke Herford, and then my father
was taken to Mt. Auburn and placed beside my mother.
In accordance with his wishes, a double stone now
marks their united graves.

APPENDIX

letter PROM whittier.
In answer to a letter from my sister announcing my
father's death, his friend Whittier sent the foUowing
reply : — Newbcryport, 2 Mo., 1, 1892.
My dear Friend Olivia Y. Bowditch, — Thy letter,
announcing the caU from earth of thy honored father, was
received with profound emotion. He was a dear personal
friend, and my companion in the cause of Emancipation,
of which he was one of the truest advocates. His great
enthusiasm for freedom and humanity cheered and stimu
lated us throughout the long struggle.
He has passed on before me, and I, who must soon
f oUow him, am with sincere sympathy,
Thy friend,
John G. Whittier,
B
WILLIAM CRAFT.^
On Sunday evening, October 7, 1894, we had the
pleasure of welcoming William Craft at our house, forty-
four years after his famous drive with my father over the
MiU-Dam to BrookUne. 1 See chapter x., page 209.

372 APPENDIK
It was a most interesting evening. Craft was a taU,
fine-looking negro, with rather an inteUectual face. His
deep, manly voice had a decided English intonation due,
doubtless, to his residence in England for several years
after his flight from Boston, in 1850. At our request he
told us very simply, yet graphically, the story of his life,
and recounted his escape with his wife from Macon, Geor
gia, in 1848. They came North as far as Philadelphia,
where an old Quaker took them to his home outside of the
city, and they remained in secrecy for about three weeks,
in order to put possible pursuers off the track. GraduaUy
they made their way to Boston, where they remained until
1850, when, as has been already told, they went to England.
He spoke without ostentation of his drive with my
father, and of his reasons for the action at that time.
One day, while at his work in his shop, he looked up as
a man entered, and recognized him as a slave-driver whom
he had formerly known in Georgia. " What are you here
for?" said Craft, putting his hand on the pistol which
always lay on his bench. " Oh, I only came in to see if you
had any messages to send to your old friends in Georgia.
Won't you and Ellen come down to the United States
Hotel some day where  (a famous slave-driver) and 1
are staying ? We shaU be glad to see you." Craft knew
well that any such action on his part would only end in his
being kidnapped and taken back to the South, and de
clined. The man then left his shop, and soon afterwards
Craft learned that there was much excitement in the city
over the presence of the slave-drivers. Boys and men fol
lowed them through the streets caUing them " thieves,"
" slave-hunters," etc., sometimes stoning them.
The Southerners were adrised by their lawyers to go to
New York until the excitement should subside, and then
to return to accomplish what they had intended to do, —
arrest Craft and his wife, and take them back to slavery.

[Facsimile of letter to Charles Sumner. 1

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APPENDIX 373
Craft's friends then persuaded him to flee with his wife.
This had to be done with much caution, however ; hence
the secrecy of the drive to Mr. EUis Gray Lorlng's house
in Brookline. Soon afterwards they made their way to
St. John, New Brunswick, whence, after a few weeks' de
lay, they set saU for England. There they lived happily
for nearly twenty years. At the end of this time they re
turned to their old home in Georgia, three years after the
war, and were cordially received by their former masters.
They then endeavored to establish a school, and, in spite
of a good deal^of opposition, partiaUy succeeded; but upon
the death of his wife, three years before his risit to Bos
ton, Craft devoted himself solely to farming. His return
to Boston was sad, for most of those who had befriended
him in earlier days had died ; Wendell PhUlips, Garri
son, my father, Lewis Hayden, and others.
During his conversation Craft aUuded quietly and smil
ingly to his determination, before leaving Boston, never
to return to the South alive and a slave. " One night,"
said he, " Lewis Hayden and I had a keg of gunpowder
under his house in Phillips Street, with a fuse attached
ready to light it should any attempt be made to capture
us." Craft's risit alone would have been a convincing proof,
had we needed any, of the barbarism of slavery, which
sought to deprive such men as he of their birthright.
He died a few years ago. [Ed.]
C
A BUST OF JOHN BROWN.^
Extract from the " Topeka Daily Capital " of Nov. 14, 1889.
During the time that John Brown was in the prison at
Charlestown, Va., from the day of his arrest, October 18,
' See chapter xxi., page 93.

374 APPENDIX
until his execution, December 2, 1859, a lady, Mrs. Mary
E. Stearns, of Massachusetts, who had long been his de
voted friend, sent the artist Brackett, and had him make
studies for a model bust of Brown. The bust has received
the highest encomiums as a faithful likeness and a very
superior work of art. Mrs. Stearns is still living. She has
long been a most interesting correspondent of the State
Historical Society, and a valuable contributor to its collec
tions. She is greatly in hopes that the State of Kansas
will sometime give a statue of John Brown to the Na
tional GaUery at Washington. To promote the idea, she
has now sent as a gift to the State Historical Society a
plaster cast of the bust she had made for that object.
Although not especially a friend of John Brown before
then, the Boston sculptor, Edward A. Brackett, was one
of those profoundly impressed by his heroism at Harper's
Ferry. He had seen Brown once in a Boston street in 1857,
and had been attracted by the dignity of his mien. The
impression then and afterwards made kindled a glowing
desire to perpetuate in marble this remarkable man. The
story of his bust of Brown as he told it at the time runs
thus : " I could hardly sleep or eat, so absorbing was the
desire that took possession of my mind. I had no money
to make the journey to Virginia, and I finally went in
turn to Dr. Howe and Wendell Phillips, requesting a loan
for the purpose. Neither of them considered a marble
bust of Brown really important, with so many other things
to be thought of ; but I said there is one man who, if he
cannot help me, will listen, and perhaps give me further
ance ; so I went to Mr. Stearns. When I entered his
counting-room he was just leaving it for Medford. In a
few moments, while walking along with him, I explained
in brief why I had come. He replied : ' You are right ; it
ought to be done ; but just now I am fully occupied in

APPENDIX 375
efforts to obtain funds for Brown's defense. I will men
tion the matter to Mrs. Stearns. Come to me to-morrow
morning and you shaU have her reply.'
" I did so, when, putting the money needful in my hand,
he said : ' Mrs. Stearns says, " Take that and start imme
diately ; " and these are her instructions : " John Brown
will refuse to have his bust taken ; he wiU say, ' All non
sense ! better give the money to the poor ; ' and if Mr.
Brackett replies that posterity will want to know how he
looked, he may also say, ' No consequence to posterity
how I look; better give the money to the poor.' Then if
every argument fails to convince him, let Mr. Brackett
say that he has come at the express wish and expense of
Mrs. Stearns, and that she will be deeply disappointed if
he returns without the measurements." '
" The next morning I was on my way to Virginia, and
found on arriving at Charlestown that I had come an
hour too soon. The excitement over the arrival of a stran
ger from the North was intense and ridiculous. I was
seized, and only escaped imprisonment by appealing to Mr.
Griswold, whose services had been secured for defense.
Through his efforts and influence, the officials were reas
sured, and I was aUowed to accompany him to the prison,
but not to cross the threshold. Through the open door
I saw the object of my pilgrimage quietly reading, but
heavily loaded with chains. He was sitting in a chair with
both hands chained, and his feet chained to the floor.
Only those who saw him in that miserable prison can
have any adequate conception of the moral grandeur of
his presence I Everybody and everything was dwarfed in
comparison. He looked up from his book when ad
dressed by his counsel, and listened attentively to the re
quest conveyed for me. Impressive as the scene was, I
could not restrain a smile, when his reply repeated the

376 APPENDIX
very words of Mrs. Stearns. ' Nonsense, all nonsense I
better give the money to the poor.' When Mr. Griswold
said that he must remember that he was becoming famous
and that posterity would like to see how he looked, the
prophecy was again fulfilled and the response came, even
more emphatic : ' No consequence to posterity how I look ;
give the money to the poor.' For some time Mr. Gris
wold labored to change his purpose ; but finaUy turned to
me, still standing outside the door, and said, ' It is no use ;
he wiU not yield one jot. I am sorry for your disappoint
ment, but it is useless arguing further.' The moment
then had come for the last resort. ' Please say to him
that I have come at the express wish of and pecuniary ex
pense of Mrs. Stearns, and that she wUl be deeply disap
pointed if I return without the measurements for a bust.'
I watched his face eagerly while Mr. Griswold repeated
to him these words, and to which clung aU my hopes. As
he listened, I could see signs of interest mingled with sur
prise in his face ; then a grave thoughtfulness. Presently
his hands dropped at his side, and he seemed lost in
thought. Then, lifting his head and straightening himself
up, he said with emotion, ' Anything Mr. or Mrs. Stearns
desires : take the measurements.' "
The measurements were thus secured, and the bust
made. It shows to what extent the artist was inspired by
his subject, and faithfully represents the moral sublimity
of the martyr. Charles Sumner exclaimed on seeing it,
" There is nothing the sun shines upon so like Michael
Angelo's ' Moses ; ' " and the critic Jarves said, " If in
some future age it should be dug up, men would ask,
' What old dirinity is this ? ' " It is an ideaUzed portrait
of Brown, yet recalling the features of the man as weU as
his grand air.

APPENDIX 377
D
JOHN brown's LAST LETTER TO HIS WIFE AND CHILDREN.^
Charlestown, Jefferson County, Va.
8th November, 1869.
Dear Wife and Children, every one, — I will
begin by saying that I have in some degree recovered
from my wounds, but that I am yet quite weak in my
back and sore about my left kidney. My appetite has
been quite good for most of the time since 1 was hurt. I
am suppUed with all I could desire to make me comfort
able, and the little I lack (some few articles of clothing
which I have lost) I may soon get again. I am besides
quite cheerful, having (as I trust) the " peace of God,
which passeth aU understanding," to rule in my heart, and
the testimony (in some degree) of a good conscience, that
I have not lived altogether in vain. I can trust God with
the time and manner of my death, believing, as I now do,
that for me at this time to seal my testimony (for God
and humanity) with my blood wiU do vastly more to ad
vance the cause I have earnestly endeavored to promote
than aU I have done in my life. I beg of you all meekly
and quietly to submit to this ; not feeling yourselves to be
in the least degraded on that account.
Kemember, dear wife and children all, that Jesus of
Nazareth suffered death on the cross as a felon, under the
most aggravating circumstances. Think of the prophets,
apostles, and Christians of former days who went through
greater tribulation than you or I, and were reconciled I
May God Almighty comfort all your hearts, and soon
wipe away aU tears from your eyes. To Him be endless
praise. Think, too, of the crushed millions who " have no
1 See chapter xxi., page 94. The letter is now in the possession
of Miss Clara T. Endicott of Boston.

378 APPENDIX
comforter." I charge you aU never in your trials to for
get " the poor that cry and those that have none to help
them." I write most earnestly to my dear, deeply afflicted wife
not to come here, at present at any rate. I wiU give you
some of my reasons for doing so : First, it wiU use up
much of the scanty means she has now or is likely to have
to make herself and her children comfortable hereafter ;
for, let me tell you that the sympathy that is aroused in
your behalf may not always foUow you. There is but
little more of the " romantic " about helping poor widows
and children than there is about trying to relieve " poor
niggers." Again, the little of comfort it would give us
to meet again in this world would be dearly bought by
the pain of final separation. We must part, and I feel
assured that for us to meet under such dreadful circum
stances wUl only add to our distress. If she comes here
she must be only the gazing-stock throughout the whole
journey, both coming and going, and to be remarked upon
in every word, look, and action by aU sorts of creatures,
and by aU sorts of people throughout the whole country.
Again, it is my decided opinion that in quietly and sub
missively staying at home with her children vastly more
of genuine sympathy will reach her without such dreadful
sacrifice of feeling as she must put up with if she comes
on. The visits of one or two female friends who have
come here have produced great excitement, which is very
annoying ; and they cannot possibly do me any good. Oh,
Mary, do not come I but patiently wait for that meeting
of those who love God and their fellow-men, where no
separation must follow. " They shaU go out no more
forever." I greatly long to hear from some one of you to learn
of anything that may affect your welfare. I sent f 15
the other day ; did you get it ? I have also endeavored

APPENDIX 379
to stir up Christian friends to risit and to write you in
your deep afflictions. Write me care of Captain John
Aris, Charlestown, Jefferson County, Va.
FinaUy, my beloved, be of good comfort. May aU your
names be found written in the Lamb's Book of Life. May
you all have the purifying and sustaining influence of
the Christian religion, is the earnest prayer of your affec
tionate Husband and Father, John Bro^^'N.
P. S. I cannot remember a night so dark as to hinder
or prevent the coming day, nor a storm so furious and
dreadful as to prevent the return of warm sunshine and
a cloudless sky; but, beloved ones, do remember that
" this is not your rest," " that in this world you have no
abiding place or continuing city."
To God and his infinite grace I always commend you.
Ever yours, J. B.

INDEX.

Unless otherwise stated all "letters to" were written by H. I. Bowditch, and all
' letters from " were addressed to him.

Abolition. See Anti-slavery.
Adams, Dr., ii. 280.
Adams, Mrs. Abel, ii. 185.
Adams, C. P., and the Latimer peti
tion, i. 134 ; at Hannum episode
meeting, ISO ,* presides at a meet
ing on the Fugitive Slave Law,
204 ; H. I. B. calls on, in London,
U. 107.
Adams, J. Q., presents the Latimer
petition to Congress, i. 135 ; pre
sides at the Hannum episode meet
ing, 180.
Adams, Nehemiah, at outbreak of
the civil war, ii. 4.
Adelaide, Princess, sister of Louis
Philippe, appearance, i. 29.
Adirondack Mountains, H. I. B.'s
trips to, ii. 58-83.
Agassiz, Louis, scientific excursion
along Massachusetts coast, i. 192-
201 ; on Humboldt's Kosmos, 199 ;
on specialization, 199 ; on scien
tific rank, 201.
Airy, Sir G. B., H. I. B. meets, i.
52, ii. 266.
Aldis, A. A., consul at Nice, ii. 121.
Aldrich, P. E., member of the Mas
sachusetts State Board of Health,
u. 217.
Allen, Mr., connection with Water-
low's tenement improvements, ii.
327.
Alps, H. L B. in, ii. 118.
Ambulance corps, H. I. B.'s efforts
to promote, ii. 7-13, 15-17.
America, privateer, i. 6.
American Academy of Medicine, H.
I. B. addresses ou the code of
ethics, ii. 254-258.

American Climatological Associa
tion, H. I. B. addresses on the in
fluence of open-air travel ou con
sumption, ii. 260, 261.
American Medical Association, con
troversy over the code of ethics,
ii. 212 ; and over medical educa
tion of women, 212-216; H. L
B.'s address as president, 242.
American Revolution, reminiscences,
i. 249.
American society in Paris in 1833,
i. 64.
Anderson, Larz, H. I. B. visits, ii.
216.
Andral, G. A., French physician,
H. I. B.'s instructor, i. 18, 28, ii.
272.
Andrew, J. A., connection with the
Hannum episode, i. 181, 183 ; calls
for volvmteer physicians to go to
the front, ii. 7, 8 ; appoints H. I.
B. surgeon of the Board of En
rollment, 32.
Anti-Man-Hunting Leagne, organi
zation and plans, i. 271-282 ;
bUlies, 280, ii. 28.
Anti-slavery, Garrison mob, i. 98-
101 ; H. I. B. becomes an Aboli
tionist, 100 ; relation of the War
ren Street Chapel to, 119-129;
Latimer case, 133-141, ii. 321 ;
meeting at Hingham in 1844, i.
156-161 ; imprisonment, death,
and funeral of Torrey, 172-178;
H. I. B. on the slave power, 170,
175-177; Hannum episode, 179-
183, 190; Senator Hale on the
poUtical conditions in 1846, 184-
187 ; H. I. B. opposes disunion

382

INDEX

views, 191 ; denunciation of Web
ster and the Fugitive Slave Law,
202-204, 209; Craft case, 205-
212, ii. 371-373; Shadrach case,
i. 212-215 ; rendition of Sims, 215-
225 ; rendition of Bums, 263-271 ;
Anti-Man-Hunting League, 271-
282 ; excitement of the move
ment, 281-283 ; blessings, ii. 99,
339 ; H. I. B. on his relation to
the leaders, 334; his tribute to
Garrison, 338 ; Louis Hayden's
connection, 349. See also Brown
(John).
Appendix cseci, cases of rupture of,
in Dresden, i. 313.
Appledore, H. I. B. at, i. 301-308;
beUeved to be rising, 301.
Arago, D. P., and Lafayette, i.
71.
Arbitration, H. I. B. on industrial,
ii. 319.
Aspiration. See Paracentesis tho
racis.
Assance, Louis, educated Indian, i.
288 ; on Indian traditional songs,
289 ; on character of Indians and
white men, 289.
Assault and battery, H. I. B. con
victed of, ii. 33-43.
Associationists, H. I. B. attends their
meetings, i. 192.
Atherton, Misses, of Philadelphia, in
Paris in 1833, i. 65.
Atkinson, Edward, post-bellum inci
dent, ii. 57.
Atkinson, George, i. 280.
Atlantic Telegraph, celebration at
Isles of Shoals on its completion,
i. 305-308 ; Field talks on the lay
ing of, ii. 104-107.
Atlee, Dr. J. L., of Lancaster, Pa.,
ii. 236, 238.
Atlee, Dr. W. L., resolution, on wo
men physicians, ii. 213.
Auscultation, H. I. B.'s proficiency,
i. 143 ; his work on, 152.
AvereU, Gen. W. W., ii. 18.
Babbage, Charles, H. I. B. meets, i.
52, ii. 267-270; calculating ma
chine, i. 52, 68, 111 ; on Nathaniel
Bowditch, no ; death, ii. 265.
Babbage, Herschel, i. 68.
Babbidge, Rev. Charles, ii. 342.

Baily, Francis, H. I. B. dines with,
i. 52; letters of Flamsteed on
Newton, 53.
Baker, Dr. H. B., letter to, 1890,
on preventive medicine, ii. 357,
358.
BaU's BlufE, ii. 5.
Bangor, Me., H. L B. at, i. 284r-286.
Baibauld, Mrs. A. L. A., H. I. B.'s
fondness for her poems, i. 238.
Barnard, C. P., founds Warren Street
Chapel, i. 112 ; opposes anti-slav
ery lectures, 122.
Barnard, P. A. P., on the future of
the medical profession, ii. 235.
Barnard Memorial. See Warren
Street Chapel.
Barrows, Mr., i. 286.
Barthe, Dr. J. B. P., ii. 274.
Bartholdi, tomb of, in Berne, ii.
109.
Bartlett, Virgil, ii. 59.
Barton, Dr. B. S., Dr. Jacob Bige
low on, ii. 285.
Battle flags, H. I. B. on Sumner's
resolution, ii. 55, 278.
Bayard, Chevalier de, tomb, ii. 125.
Beard, Dr. G. M., H. I. B. criticizes
his lecture on old age, ii. 297-
302.
Bell, Dr. A. N., open letter to, 1882,
on pubhc sanitation, ii. 245-250.
Berkshire, Mass., H. I. B. on, ii. 7.
Berne, tablets to the memory of pa
triots, ii. 109 ; forgetful of Pabri-
cius Hildanus, 109 ; library, 110.
Bible, H. I. B.'s pocket, i. 3, 57,
291 ; Burns's gift to Highland
Mary, 60.
Bigelow, Dr. H. J., controversy with
H. I. B. over a supposed portrait
of Par«, ii. 258-260.
Bigelow, Dr. Jacob, H. I. B. visits in
1876, ii. 283 ; abihty, 284 ; physi
cal and mental condition at ninety,
284, 292, 293 ; on the Philadelplua
school of medicine, 285 ; on Louis,
286, 287 ; on experiences in the
cholera epidemic of 1832, 287-
289 ; on character of physicians,
289, 290 ; on preventive medicine,
290-292.
BUlings, Dr. J. S., ii. 243.
Birch canoe, H. I. B. on, i. 295-
297.

INDEX

383

Bizot, Swiss physician, fellow stu
dent of H. L B. in Paris, i. 18,
ii. 274; H. L B. visits in 1859, i.
317.
Blaine, J. G., H. I. B. disapproves
of, ii. 56.
Boards of Health. See Massachu
setts Board of Health, National
Board of Health, Preventive Med
icine.
Boott, Dr. Francis, of England, i.
87.
Boston Cooperative Building So
ciety, interest in tenement im
provement, i. 189, ii. 328-330.
Boston Courier, comment on H. I.
B.'s conduct at the rendition of
Sims, i. 225.
Bouvart, Alexis, H. I. B. meets, ii.
131.
Bowditch, Edward, son of H. I. B.,
with his father at the Isles of
Shoals, i. 300 ; and in the Adi
rondacks, ii. 58; and his father,
78.
Bowditch, Elizabeth B. I., sister of
H. L B., i. 11.
Bowditch, Dr. H. I., birth, i. 1; early
life in Salem, 1-10 ; and his mo
ther, 3, 72-74, 80-82, 105, 334 ;
town fights, 5 ; Guy Fawkes cele
bration, 6 ; home life, 7, 8, 144-
147, 151-154, 156, 164, 169, 255,
256, ii. 25, 71, 78, 178, 264, 368 ;
schooling, i. 8-10 ; Boston homes,
10, 132, 308, 309, 335, ii. 199;
pocket Bible, i. 3, 57, 291 ; at Har
vard, 11-13; goes abroad to study,
14; voyage, 15-17; introduction
to Humboldt, 17 ; Paris compan
ions, 18, 28, 32, 39, 73, 80, 81,
817 ; and Madaine La Place, 18-
20, 320, 321, ii. 127-137; meets
Magendie, i. 20 ; on the " three
days " fgte, 23-30 ; calls on Mrs.
Somerville, 30-32 ; on La Croix,
33; social life in Paris, 35, 47,
64 ; on the theatre in Paris, 35 ;
on Versailles, 39-41 ; on French
poUtical conditions in 1833-34, 41,
69-72; on Lafayette, 41, 71, u.
66-69 ; on Jouffroy's lectures, i.
43-47; trip to Italy, 48, 65, 67,
74-80; iUness in Paris, 52, ii.
273 ; in London, i. 52-56 ; on his

father, 53, 86, 148, 150, 193 ; on
Wilberforce's funeral, 54; ex.
pauses in Europe, 56 ; walking
tour in Scotland, 56-61 ; admira-
tiou for Bums, 57-60 ; visits
grave of Highland Mary, 58 ; sees
her Bible, 60 ; treasures a lock of
her hair, 61, 62 ; and Babbage's
calculating machine, 68 ; motto,
73 ; on Mezzof anti, 76-79 ; engage
ment and marriage, 83-92, 96, 97 ;
returns to America, 86-88 ; Dr.
Thayer's reminiscences, 142-147 ;
as a volunteer fireman, 144;
friendship with Daniel Powers,
147, 153, 166-169, 171 ; on Car
lyle, 149 ; physical condition, 164 ;
home at Weston, 236-243 ; Whit
tier sun-dial, 239, 240, 245-247 ;
trip to Holmes' Hole in 1852, 248-
251 ; on Kossuth, 251 ; renewal of
a childhood friendship, 257-259 ;
friendship for Dr. Thayer, 260-
262, 309, 335 ; trip in the wilds of
Maine in 1856, 284^300 ; on the
birch canoe, 295-297 ; at the Isles
of Shoals m 1858, 300-308 ; on the
sea serpent, 302 ; celebration of
the Atlantic Telegraph, 303-308;
in Europe in 1859, 310-335; on
German feather beds, 311-313 ;
revisits the scene of his courtship,
318-320 ; on Miss Maitineau in
1859, 321-323; pilgrimage to
Wordsworth's home, 324-329 ;
repeats anecdotes on De Quincey,
331-334 ; and his son's enlistment,
ii. 5—7 ; and the death and mem
ory of his son, 15-22, 62, 109, 118,
151, 344; and his son's fiancee,
24-26 ; memorial cabinet to his
son and others, ii. 26-30 ; resi
dence in MUton, 43, 46, 103 ; in
the Adirondacks, 58-83 ; in Eu
rope in 1867, 103-148 ; on Cyms
W. Field, 104^107 ; on the House
of Lords, 107 ; on Garibaldi, 111-
117, 121 ; at Zermatt, 118-120 ;
executes a war dance, 119 ; on
table companions and Americans
abroad, 120 ; at the Peace Con
gress of 1867, 122, 123'; reminis
cences of life in Paris, 126, 137 ;
controversy with a, relative of
Victor Hugo, 141, 143-145; on

384

INDEX

the Pope's temporal power, 143 ;
in Europe in 1870, 149-199; on
the voyage, 149, 150; on the
Derby, 152; night trip through
the London slums, 153-178 ; and
his courier, 186 ; at Strassburg
after the capture, 187-199 ; thinks
Germany should retain Strass
burg, 196 ; at the Centennial, 242 ;
reminiscences of Babbage, 265-
270 ; on the Olnhausen famUy,
315-317; golden wedding, 323-
325 ; life at Peterboro', 355-362,
366, 367 ; on the death of his wife,
364, 365, 367 ; decUne, 365-369 ;
death, 369, 370
Professional life : reasons for
adopting the medical profession,
i. 14 ; in Harvard Medical School,
14 ; enters .^cole de Medecine in
Paris, 18 ; instructors, 18, ii. 271,
272; on Louis, i. 37-39, 62-64,75,
U. 141-147, 270-275 ; admitted to
the Sooi^t^ Medicale d'Observa
tion, i. 47, ii. 273 ; on the advan
tages of medical study in Paris in
1833, i. 49, 62 ; unfavorably im
pressed by medical conditions in
England and Scotland, 55, 63, 64 ;
on the Genoa hospital, 75 ; begins
practice in Boston, 88, 98 ; profes
sional profits, 94, 95, 225, 262;
translates works by Louis, 130 ;
connection with the Massachusetts
General Hospital, 130-132 ; as an
instructor and practitioner, 142,
143, 336, 337, ii. 262 ; authority
on diseases of the chest, i. 143 ; in
terest in microscopic investiga
tions, 143, 190, 193 ; interest in the
Society for Medical Observation,
145 ; work on auscultation, 152 ;
scientific excursion with Agassiz,
192-201 ; introduces operation of
paracentesis thoracis, 231-234,
336; iUness from blood poison,
238 ; speciaUzes on lung and heart
diseases, 239 ; Life of Dr. Twitch-
ell, 252 ; European reception of
thoracentesis, 310, 313, 314, 3.30 ;
professional reception at Dresden
in 1859, 313 ; and at Vienna, 314-
317 ; researches on consumption,
330, 335, 337, ii. 200-204, 260,
261 ; as a medical volunteer, 7-10 ;

agitation for an ambulance corps,
7-13, 15-17 ; address to a gradu
ating class on professional ideals,
11, 204-212 ; medical examiner of
recruits, 31-33 ; convicted of as
sault for marking a bounty
jumper, 33-43 ; investigation of
horseflesh as food, 138-140 ;
shrinks from surgery, 177 ; on the
English Social Science Association,
179-182 ; method of research,
200, 230, 237; Consumption in
New England, 201 ; Is Consump
tion ever Contagious ? 201, 203 ; on
medical education for women,
212-216, 252-254, 297, 303; on
the code of medical ethics, 212,
254-258 ; and the organization of
the Massachusetts State Board of
Health, 217-219; on the work
and methods of the board, 220-
230, 236, 245, 248 ; ou the scope
and future of preventive medicine,
221, 234, 245-250, 331, 357 ; on
poUtics and sanitation, 226, 236,
244 ; resigns from the Board of
Health, 227 ; on intemperance and
prohibition, 230-233 ; Centeuuial
Address on hygiene at the Inter
national Congress in 1876, 236-
241 ; address as president of the
American Medical Association,
242 ; member of the National
Board of Health, 243 ; on the
work of the board, 243-245, 250,
251, 257 ; Diaphragmatic Hernia,
258 ; Trichince Spiralis, 258 ; Lym
nea, 258 ; controversy over a sup
posed portrait of Par^, 258-260 ;
as a therapeutist, 261 ; on homeo
pathy, 261, 319 ; professional en
thusiasm, 263, 304, 333, 334 ; on
Dr. Jacob Bigelow and his opin
ions, 283-293 ; recoUections of his
period as interne, 331-333.
Anti-slavery and other public
affairs: witnesses the Garrison
mob, i. 99 ; becomes an AboUtion-
ist, 100 ; resulting social ostracism,
101, 102; on his anti-slavery
views and agitation, 100, 114, 125,
136, 163, 164, 170, 191, 225, 228,
ii. 339 ; becomes interested in the
Warren Street Chapel, i. 112, 113,
115; commemorates the West

INDEX

385

Indiau emancipation, 119 ; resigns
from the Chapel because of diver
gence of anti-slavery views, 120-
129 ; anti-slavery views sind con
nection with the Massachusetts
G«neral Hospital, Ii0-lo2 ; inter
est iu the Latimer case, 133, 134,
136, 138 ; escorts Frederick Doug
lass through the streets, 137 ; de
scribes an anti-slavery excursion,
156-161 ; on Torrey's imprison
ment, death, aud funeral, 156,
172-178 ; does not beUeve in dis
union, 163, 170, 191 ; on the slave
power, 170, 176-177 ; connection
with the Hannum episode and
vigUance committee, 179-181,
190; on poUtical conditions in
1S46, 1S7-1S0 ; interest iu tene
ment improvement, 189, 190, u.
326-330; on the Fugitive Slave
Law and Webster, i. 202-204, 209,
281, ii. 301 ; conuectiou with the
CraJEt case, i. 205-212 ; on the
Shadrach rescue, 213-215 ; and
the rendition of Sims, 215-225;
warned by the marshal, 221 n. ;
newspaper comment ou his con
duct at the rendition, 225 ; spirit
ual efEect of the rendition on, 225-
229 ; anticipates the civil war,
228, 20P. ii. 1 ; aud Sumner, i. 252-
25o, ii. 55, 27l>-280 ; on the Senate
iu 18.12. i. 253 ; on the rendition
of Burns, 263-209. 271 ; on the
Anti-Man-Hunting Les^ne, 271-
2S2 ; invokes cheers for Fremont,
285; on John Brown, u. 1, 59-
61, 79, S2, 93-101 ; on the outbreak
of the civil war, 1-0, 344 ; ad
dress and presentation to negro
troops, 44-46 ; on Lincoln's death
aud character, 48-54; ou post^
beUum change of opinion aud
reconciUation, 54-57, 242, 306-
314. 345; anti-slavery comer of
the Memorial Cabinet, S4 ; tribute
to Grant, 305-307; on industrial
arbitration, 319 ; tribute to Whit
tier, 320-323, 368 ; relation to
anti-slavery leaders, 334 ; on Gar
rison, 335, 337-339; correspond
ence with Douglass on the Haytian
mission, 336, .337 ; on treatment of
the negro, 346-348, 356 ; reminis-
VOL. n.

cenoes of Lewis Hayden, 349-354 ;
Whittier's tribute, 371.
Traits and opinions: views on
rehgion, i. 2-4, 72-74, 79, 103-
105, 114-119, 14S-150, 154, 162,
165, 191, 227-229, 238, 298, 323,
U. 71, 209, 210, 270, 325, 360,364,
369; love for nature, i. 4, 153,
164, 195, 249, 259, 300, ii. 61-63,
69, 360, 361, 367 ; love for fun, i.
4, 308 ; patriotism, 6, ii. 124, 144,
211 ; early affections, i. 7 ; sym
pathy, 36 ; gratitude, 36 ; love for
music, 7, 79, 80, 256, ii. 341-344;
pubUo spirit, i. 49-51 ; conscience,
145 ; enthusiasm, 146, ii. ()8, 111 ;
on his tii,«ils, i. 165 ; optimism, 165,
336, U. 2So, 359, 362 ; power of
concentration, i. 230; on self-re
straint, 261 ; antipathy to secret
societies, 27i, 274 ; ou hfe, 309 ;
hati'ed of insects, u. 59, 72 ; rev-
ereuce for pure girlhood, 69 ;
wishes for liis funeral, 75 ; as a
letter-writer, 3 04 ; perseverance,
107, 259 ; on reverence for great
characters, 108, 109, 125, 184 ; m-
terest in human welfare, 148, 167,
171, 173, 177 ; on human desires,
206 ; sympathy with conscientious
effort, 280-283 ; experiences as a
cripple, 293; on education, 295—
297, 300; on old age, 297-302,
317 ; on enthusiasm, 298 ; activity,
318.
Bowditch, H. P., nephew of H. I.
B., ii. 14.
Bowditch, J. I., brother of H. I. B.,
i. 11.
Bowditch, Mary I., sister of H. I. B.,
i. 11 ; letters to, from Europe,
1832-34, 15-17. 23-30, 32-36, 39-
41, 47, 51, 64-67. 69-72. 75-80.
Bowditch, Mary IngersoU, mother
of H. I. B., i. 1 ; I'eUgious atti
tude, 2, 334 ; letters to, &om Paris,
1833-34, 36-39, 72-74; death, 80-
82.
Bowditch, Nathaniel, father of H.
I. B., i. 1 ; objects to music, 7, u.
340 ; and his chUdren, i. 7; first
knowledge of the stars, 8 ; moves
to Boston, 10 ; fanuly, 11 ; trans
lation of La Place's Mtcanique
C&este, 17, 21, 22, 32 ; appreciated

386

INDEX

in Europe, 19, 53, 69, 110, ii. 265,
266; presented with bust of La
Place, i. 21 ; Navigator, 22 ; traits
of character, 53, ii. 68 ; aud his
son's fiancee, i. 85-96 ; decUne,
95 ; death, 96 ; French Institute
intended to elect, to membership,
110 ; Ubrary presented to the Bos
ton PubUc Library, 335 ; method
of warding off consumption, u.
260. Letters to, from Europe, 1832-
34, i. 19-21, 30-32, 41, 48-56, 62-
64, 67-69, 86-88 ; 1835, respectmg
Miss Yardley, 89-92; from Miss
Yaidley, 93, 94 ; letters from,
1832, ou the La Place bust, 21-
23 ; 1838, to Miss Yardley, 95.
Bowditch, Nathaniel I., brother of
H. I. B., i. 11 ; letter to, 1834, on
the death of his mother, 81, 82 ;
death, u. 2; Suffolk Surnames,
27.
Bowditch, Nathaniel, son of H. I.
B., birth, i. 132 ; taken to the fu
neral of Torrey 78 ; taken to see
the rendition of Sims. 219 ; accom
panies his father to the wilds of
Maine, 284 ; enlists, ii. 5 ; feels in
competent, 6 ; ordered South, 7 ;
wounded, 14; death, 14, 22, 23;
H. I. B. on the death and memory
of, 15-22, 62, 109, 118, 151, 344;
training and sacrifice, 22, 23 ; fi
ancee, 24-26 ; memorials, 26-30.
Bowditch, OUvia, wife ot H. I. B.,
nie Yardley, meets H. I. B., i. 84 ;
engaged, 85 ; engagement broken
through his father's objections,
85 ; remains constant, 90 ; opposi
tion withdrawn, 92-96 ; character,
92, 146 ; assists in translating the
Micanique Cileste, 94; crosses
to America, 96, 97 ; married, 97 ;
musical talent, 147 ; goes to En-
rope in 1860, 336 ; ou the death of
her son, U. 20 ; accompanies H. I.
B. abroad in 1870, 149; death,
363 ; H. L B. ou her death, 364^
367. Letters from, to Nathaniel Bow
ditch, i. 93, 94 ; letter to, from
Nathaniel Bowditch, 95 ; letters
to, 1844, 161-154, 156-161 ; 1858,
from Appledore, 301-308 ; 1859,

from Europe, 311-835 ; 1863-78,
from the Adirondacks, ii. 59-83 ;
1867, from Europe, 104^107;
1870, on the Social Science Asso
ciation meeting, 178-185 ; 1867,
1877, on the Medical Association
meetings, 212-217, 242 ; 1876, on
the Centennial Address, 238-242.
Bowditch, OUvia Y., daughter of H.
I. B., letters to, 1867, on Miss Put
nam, ii. 24 ; 1871, on Babbage,
264-269; 1876, on Dr. Bigelow,
283-293.
Bowditch, Dr. V. Y., son of H. L
B., with his father in the Adi
rondacks, U. 58 ; letter to, 1879,
on the National Board of Health,
244.
Bowditch, W. I., brother of H. I. B.,
i. 11 ; aids Craft, 207.
Bowles, Samuel, U. 75.
Bowring, Lady, at the meeting of
the English Social Science Asso
ciation, u. 182.
Brackett, E. A., bust of John Brown,
ii. 84, 86, 102, 373-376.
Bradburn, Rev. George, as an anti-
slavery man, u. 334, 335.
Brazer, Rev. John, letter to, 1835,
on rehgion, i. 103-105.
Brewster, Sir David, on Babbage, i.
111.
Bridgman, Laura, Agassiz on, i.
200.
Briggs, Dr. L. v., L 98 ; letters to,
1887, on the John Brown paper,
U. 100, 101 ; on arbitration and
homeopathy, 318-320.
Brighton, Mass., Board of Health
investigation, ii. 223-225.
Brooks, PhilUps, H. I. B. on, i. 119 n.
Brookside, H. I. B.'s home at Wes
ton, i. 238.
Brown, John, H. I. B.'s estimation,
ii. 1, 59-61, 79, 82, 93-101 ; pikes,
28, 96 ; recoUections of a neighbor,
64 ; beginning of his anti-slavery
devotion, 65 ; Judge Hale on his
character, 74, 82 ; and Gerrit
Smith, 79, 88 ; grave and house,
80 ; scarcity of reUcs, 80 ; Mrs.
Stearns's bust and reminiscences,
84r-93, 101, 373-376 ; last letter to
his family, 377-379.
Browne, J. W., on slavery, i. 228 ;

INDEX

387

trip to Maine with H. I. B., 284 ;
H. L B. on, u. 62.
Brovm, Lonisa, u. 264.
Brown-Sequard, Dr. C. E., on Sum
ner's suffering, U. 279.
Bruce, Rev. Mr., antiquary, ii. 182.
Buchanan, Dr. George, of England,
researches on consumption, ii. 202 ;
letter from, 1890, on consumption,
202, 203.
Buckingham, Dr. C. E., U. 35.
Budd, Dr. G«orge, of London, ap
proves of the operation of thora
centesis, i. 234, 310 ; on contagious
ness of consumption, ii. 147.
BuUock, Gov. A. H., letter to, 1866,
on the trial for assault, ii. 38-41.
Bums, Anthony, fugitive slave, ren
dition, i. 263-271 ; attempted res
cue, 265-267 ; pnbUc condemna
tion of the rendition, 268, 269 ;
Whittier on, 269-271.
Bums, Robert, H. I. B.'s admiration,
i. 57, ii. 108, 208 ; esteem in Scot
land, i. 58 ; anecdote, 59. See also
CampbeU.
Butler, B. F., bibUcal prophecy of
his actions, u. 75 ; and tlie State
Board of Health, 218, 226.
Butler, Mrs. J. E., address on behalf
of faUen women, ii. 185.
Byron, Lord, on Mezzofanti, i. 79.
Cabot, F. S., interest in the Latimer
case, i. 134, 141.
Cabot, Frank, i. 161.
Cabot, Mary, i. 157.
CaUioun, J. C, H. I. B. on, i. 254.
Calhoun, Patrick, post-bellum inci
dent, u. 57.
CampbeU, Mary, Burns's Highland
Mary, grave, i. 58 ; Bible, 60 ; H.
I. B. treasures a lock of her hair,
61, 62.
Casual wards in London, ii. 168-170.
Chadwick, Edwin, u. 248.
Champlam, Lake, H. I. B. at, ii. 73.
Chandler, Abiel, Salem teacher, i. 9.
Channing, W. E., advice ou religion
and its observances, i. 116-118.
Channing, W. P., interest in the
Latimer case, i. 133, 141 ; views
the rendition of Sims, 217, 221.
Channing, W. H., Associationists
meeti^B, 191.

Channing, Dr. Walter, at the meet
ing to commemorate Torrey, i. 176,
178.
Chapman, Maria Weston, i. 157.
Chase, Dr. W. D., u. 358.
Chateaugay Lake, N. Y., H. L B. at,
ii. 66, 83.
Chaumel (Chomel), Dr. A. P., H. I.
B.'s instructor, i. 18, U. 272.
Chester, England, H. L B. at, ii. 150.
ChUd, Lydia Maria, i. 116.
Cholera, in Boston, i. 22 ; Panvel
on, u. 141 ; in New York, 287-289.
Christie, Major G. W., Confederate
officer, reminiscences on the civU
war, u. 308-313.
Christmas festivities, i. 146, 255.
CivU War, H. I. B. anticipates, L
175, 176, 228, 269, u. 1, 345 ; out
break, 1-5, 344 ; care of the
wounded, 7-13, 15-17; effect of
Lincoln's death, 52 ; post-beUum
reconcUiation, 54-^7, 306-314.
Clapp, Mrs., at Appledore, i. 308.
Clark, Dr. H. G., ii. 38.
Clarke, Sen. Daniel, i. 306, 307.
Clarke, Dr. E. H., i. 302.
Clarke, J. P., H. I. B. advised to join
his congregation, i. 117, 119 ; at
the Hingham meeting, 160; let
ter from, 1866, on the conviction
for assault, U. 41.
Classics, ancient, H. I. B.'s appre
ciation, i. 66.
Clay, Henry, H. L B. on, i. 119, 254.
Cleveland, Duke of, u. 107.
Cluer, J. C, views the rendition of
Suns, i. 217.
Coleridge, Hartiey, i. 329.
Colver, Rev. Nathaniel, buys Lati
mer's freedom, i. 133.
Cone, Mrs. H. B., letter to, 1888, on
temperance, iL 232.
Consumption, H. I. B.'s researches
concerning the influence of soU
moisture, u. 200-203 ; his opin
ion as to its contagiousness, 200,
203, 204 ; his opinion as to the
effect of open-air travel, 260, 261.
Cooper, Sir Astley, H. I. B. meets,
i. 54, u. 146.
Craft, William and EUen, escape
from slavery, i. 205, ii. 372; at
tempt to arrest, in Boston, i. 205-
208, u. 350, 372, 373 ; escape to

388

INDEX

England, i. 208, u. 373 ; H. L B.'s
appeal on behalf of, i. 210-212 ;
pistol, u. 28; his visit to Boston
in 1894, 371-373.
CrandaU, Prudence, mobbed, i. 99.
" Crystal Palace, " Boston tenement
house, attempt to improve, i. 189,
n. 264, 329, 330.
Curtis, Col. G. S., ii. 18.
Curtis, G. T., commissioner in the
Shadrach case, i. 212.
Dana, J. W., Agassiz on his Zoophytes,
i. 201.
Davis, Capt. Charles, i. 192.
Davis, Dr. N. S., of Chicago, on
women doctors, ii. 214.
Davis, Dr. R. S., member of Massa
chusetts State Board of Health,
ii. 217.
De Quincey, Thomas, residence, i.
329 ; anecdotes of his appearance
and opium habit, 331-334.
Derby, EngUsh, H. I. B. on, u. 152.
Derby, Lord, ii. 107.
Derby, Dr. George, member of the
Massachusetts State Board of
Health, u. 217, 225.
Devens, Charles, marshal in the ren
dition of Sims, i. 219 n., 220 ; offers
to buy Sims's freedom, 221 n.
Dickens, Charles, his Lascar Sal, ii.
160-162 ; interest in the London
casual wards, 168 ; signature, 170.
Dickinson, Dr., ii. 74.
Dieulafoy, Dr. Georges, claim to the
invention of thoracentesis, i. 233,
234.
Disunion, H. I. B. opposes aboUtion-
ist idea, i. 163, 170, 191.
DixweU, E. S., inscription for the
Memorial Cabinet, ii. 28.
DixweU, Mrs. J. J., ii. 323.
Donaldson, Dr. Frank, on the intro
duction of thoracentesis, i. 233.
Douglass, Prederiok, H. I. B. escorts
through the streets, i. 137 ; at the
Hingham meeting, 156, 160, 161 ;
at the meeting on the Fugitive
Slave Law, 204 ; letters to and
from, 1889, on the Haytian mis
sion, ii. 336, 337.
Downing, 6. T., letter from, 1887,
on Governor Wise's opinion of
John Brown, ii. 97.

Drasche, Dr. Anton, of Vienna, i.
315.
Dresden, H. I. B. on his professional
experiences iu, i. 313.
Dufae, Col. A. N., ii. 18.
Duleny (Dulong), P. C, funeral, i.
69-72.
Duponceau, P. S., Indian grammar,
i. 79.
Dwight, J. S., as a musical critic, u.
343.
Early, Gen. J. A., ii. 309.
Education, H. I. B.'s schooling, i. 8-
10; H. I. B. at Harvard, 11-13;
H. I. B. desires to promote scien
tific, 50 ; iu Switzerland, u. 123 ;
medical, for womeu, 212-216, 252-
254, 297, 303 ; H. I. B. on wrong
methods, 295-297 ; H. I. B. on co
education, 297 ; H. I. B. on its
moral quality, 300 ; early indus
trial schools in Boston, 330.
Edwards (Edmands), Gen. B. P., i.
268.
Eliot, S. A., on the Garrison mob, i.
lOO ; votes for the Fugitive Slave
Law, 204, 209.
Elizabethtown, N. Y., H. I. B. at, u.
76.
Ellis, Dr. Calvin, i. 316.
EUis, Rev. G. E., letter to, 1887, on
John Brown, u. 93-98.
Ellis, John, Maine guide, i. 286 ; on
Indians, 287 ; effect of Hiawatha
on, 290.
Emerson, C. C, letter from, 1835, on
human character aud Christianity,
i. 105-107.
Emerson, R. W., letter from, 1846,
on the Hannum episode, i. 182.
Emmons, J. L., connection with
Warren Street Chapel, i. 120, 121,
143 ; and the Shadrach rescue,
213.
Endicott, Clara T., u. 95.
Endicott, WilUam, Jr.,ii. 353.
England, H. I. B. on the condition of
medical science in, i. 52, 55, 63, 64.
Enthusiasm, H. I. B. on its quality,
ii. 298.
Epizootic influenza in Boston, i. 142.
Espime (Espine), Dr. J. C. d', U.
274.
Eveleth, Joseph, i. 219.

INDEX

389

F  , Dr., at the English Social
Soieuoo Association, ii, 181.
Fabricius Hildanus. WiUiam, foi^ot-
teu at Berne, ii. 109.
Fallen womeu, meeting- in England
on behalf of, ii. 185.
Farrar, Mra, E, W. R,, i. 31.
Fau-s-el, Dr. A. S., H. I. B. meets.
ii. 141, 143.
Feather beds in (Germany, i, .'i 1 1-313.
Fessendeu, Samuel, ou the Hannum
episoiie, i. 182.
Field, C W.. aud the laying- of the
Atlantic cable, u. 104-107.
Fislier. Miss, of Philadelphia, m
Paris in IS!3, i. 3,"i,
Fislier, E. T., letter to, 1882, on
education, ii. 2','."i-297.
Five Cents Siiviug-s Bank of Boston,
u. 3-JO.
Flamsteed, John, letters on Xewton.
i. 53. -
FoUen, Mrs. E. L., i. 157.
Pollen, Karl, on Spurzheim, i, 33, 41.
Folsom, Pr. C. F., member of the
National Board of Health, ii. 243.
Forbes, J. M.. letter to. 1866, on
the sun-dial, i. 24l>-2-47.
Fortescue. Lord, ii. 107.
Foster, Rev, Daniel, prayer at the
rendition of 8ims, i. 22o.
Frjuice. political conditions in 18.i3-
34, i. 41, 6".>-7-' ; and tiie Peace
Congress of 18(i7, u. I'J.'i.
Free Soil partv, H. I. B.'s interest, i.
191.
Freeman. Watsou. guards Burns, i.
267.
Fremont. J. C. H. I. B. provokes
cheers for. i. -8.>.
French, B. B.. i. 306.
French courtesy, ii. 141.
French Kevolntion. influence on
H. I. B. of places associated with,
i. 51.
Frotiiingh.'mi, Richard, member of
tlie >iassaclinsetts State Board of
He.'dth, ii. 217.
Fugitive Slave Law, denounced, i.
¦J0-2--2(M. 209.
Fugitive slaves. &t' Anti-slavery.
Furness. W. H., Jr.. views the rendi
tion of Sims, i 217.
Gairdner, Sh W. T., on thoracen

tesis, i, 233, 234, 330 ; and H, I.
B., ;ilO, 330.
Gai'ibaldi, i. 822 ; reception at Geneva
iu 18li7. u. 111-117; appeaxanoe,
114, 117; 11. I B. meets, 121 ;
at the Peace Congress, 122, 123.
Garrison, F. J., letters to, 1889, ou
W. L. Garrison, ii. 334, Tiiu.
Garrison, W. L., mobbed iu Boston,
i. 98-100 ; at tiie Hingham meet
ing, 158 ; disunion \ne'ws, 170 ;
H. I, B,'s tribute, 191, ii, 335,
338. 339 : does not see the rendi
tion of Sims, i. 219 ; beUtties Kos
suth, 251.
Gazette M4dicale de Paris on the
Massachusetts State Board of
Health, u. 222 n.
Geneva, reception of Garibaldi, ii.
111-117.
Genoa, hospital, i. 75.
Germany, appearance of troops in
Strassburg- iu 1870, ii. 191 ; should
hold Strassburg, 1 '.Hi.
(Jeroux, Madame, i. 320.
Gilbert. Mr., of Boston, i. 307.
Grant, U. S., H. I. B.'s tribute, u.
57, 30.")— 307. 313.
Gray, Mrs. Horace, i. 8li,
Greene, Anne, i. 64.
Greene, Copley, H. I. B,"s friendship
in Paris, i. o2, 30. 73, 80, 81 ;
death of his father, 36.
GrenviUe, Lord, u, 107.
Grev. Lord, ii. 107.
Gr<MS, Dr. S. D., U. 237.
Guy Fawkes Day, H. I. B.'s cele-
bratiou, i. 6.
Hale, Dr. Enoch, of Boston, i. 143.
Hale, Harry, ii. 78.
Hale, Sen. j. P.. letters from and to,
1846, on the political couditious, i.
184-189 ; in the Senate, 253.
Hale, Matthew, ii. 74.
Hale. Judge K. S.. ou John Brown.
ii. 74. 82 ; H. L B. on. 77.
Hale, Dr. S. E.. u. 78.
HaUer, Albrecht von. bust at Berne,
u. 110.
HaUowell. X. P.. colonel of a negro
regiment, ii. 43 : assists Lewis
Harden, .'".io.
Haiumoud. Sui-g. Gen. W. -i^., and
the tmibulance ser^•ice, u. 10.

390

INDEX

Hannum episode, i. 179-183, 190.
Harris, Hannah, i. 4.
Hayden, Lewis, participation in the
Shadrach rescne, i. 215 ; H. I. B.'s
reminiscences, U. 349-354 ; his
widow at H. I. B.'s funeral, 869.
Hayes, Pres. E. B., H. I. B. on his
removal of troops from the South,
ii. 56.
Hayti, Douglass's appointment as
mmister to, U. 336, 337.
Henderson, Sir E. Y. W., chief of
Loudon poUce, U. 163.
Herard, Dr. Frangois, portrait, ii.
260.
Herford, Rev. Brooke, u. 370.
Herschel, Sir John, Agassiz on, i.
199 ; reception of H. I. B., ii.
266.
Herschel, Sir WUliam, H. I. B.
meets, i. 52 ; H. I. B. calls on, U.
265.
Hiawatha, effect on a Maine guide,
i. 290.
Higginson, H. L., as a patron of
music, U. 343.
Higginson, T. W., and the rendition
of Bums, i. 265.
Highland Mary. See CampbeU.
HiU, Octavia, interest in London
tenement improvement, ii. 326.
Hingham, Mass., anti-slavery meet
ing in 1844, i. 156-161.
Holmes, Dr. Bayard, letter to,
1889, on the future of preventive
medicine, ii. 331.
Holmes, Dr. 0. W., with H. I. B. m
Paris, i. 18 ; discussion on Louis,
49.
Hoist, H. E. von, on John Brown,
ii. 97, 98.
Holt, Dr. Joseph, of the Louisiana
State Board of Health, ii. 244.
Holyoke, Dr. E. A., H. L B. on,
ii. 286.
Homeopathy, H. I. B. on, u. 261,
319.
Horseflesh, H. I. B.'s investigation
in Paris, u. 138-140.
House of Lords, H. I. B. visits, ii.
107.
Howe, Dr. Estes, favorable report on
board of health bUl, u. 219.
Howe, Dr. S. 6., connection with the
Hannum episode, i. 181.

Hudson, Mary, letters to, 1843, on
reUgion, i. 148-151; 1842, on
Daniel Powers, 166-169 ; 1852, on
the Christmas festival, 255 ; 1861,
on the war, u. 5 ; 1862, on going
South, 7; 1863, on the death of
Nathaniel Bowditch, 20-22 ; 1888,
on the golden wedding, 323-325.
Hugo, Victor, H. I. B.'s experience
with a relative and opponent of,
ii. 141, 143-145.
Hunt, Mrs. W. H., letter to, 1877,
on temperance, u. 231.
Hunter, Dr. John, reinterment, u.
343.
Hunter, Dr. WiUiam, mnsenm, i.
334.
Huntington, Key. F. D., services on
Lincoln, ii. 51.
Hygiene. See Preventive medicine.
Indians, a Maine guide's opinion, i.
287 ; thoughts of an educated In
dian, 288-290 ; traUs,295 ; H. I. B.
on their birch canoe, 295-297.
Industrial school, early, in Boston,
u. 330.
International Medical Congress at
PhUadelphia, H. I. B.'s address
on hygiene, u. 236-241.
International Peace Congress in
1867, u. Ill, 122, 123.
Isles of Shoals, H. I. B. visits, i.
300.
Italy, H. I. B. desires to visit, i. 65,
67 ; H. I. B. visits in 1854, 74-80 ;
dialects, 78.
Jackson, Dr. Charles, i. 290.
Jackson, Dr. J. B. S., on a Vienna
physician, i. 314.
Jackson, Dr. James, H. I. B.'s in
structor, i. 14 ; opposes thoracen
tesis, 231 ; specializes, 239 ; and
Gabdner, 330 ; H. I. B.'s appre
ciation, n. 284, 332.
Jackson, James, jr., H. I. B.'s friend
ship in Paris, i. 18, 28, 32, 39, 73 ;
illness and death, 66, 67 n.
Jackson, Patrick, and Webster, U.
301.
Jackson, Gen. T. J. (StonewaU), H.
I. B.'s allusion, u. 94, 96 ; a Con
federate officer's recollections,
311.

INDEX

391

Jarvis, J. J., on the bust of John
Brown, ii. 86.
Jeffrey, Louisa, i. 108.
Jeffries, Dr., ii. 35.
Johnson, Oliver, i. 158.
Johnston, A. K., Edinburgh map-
maker, i. 330.
Join-viUe, Due de, appearance, i.
29.
Jouffroy, T. S., lectures in Paris, i.
43-47.
Kansas-Nebraska BiU. See Ne
braska BiU.
Kansas war, John Brown's connec
tion, U. 88-90.
Katahdin, Mount, H. I. B. attempts
to ascend, i. 294.
KeUy's Ford, Va., battie, ii. 14.
Kemp, Henry, views the rendition of
Sims, i. 217, 221; and the at
tempted rescue of Bums, 266.
Kimberley, Lord, u. 107.
Kirk, Kev. E. N., on Lincoln's death,
iL 48, 51.
Klob, Dr. JnUns, of Vienna, i. 316.
Knight, Mrs. f^ederick, letter to,
1888, on reUgious duty, ii. 325.
"Knocker's Holers," probable
meaning, i. 5 n.
Koch, Dr. Bobert, excitement over
his discovery, ii. 203.
Korner's Battle Hymn, found on
Nathaniel Bowditch's body, u. 14 ;
H. I. B. presents copies to negro
soldiers, 44 46.
Kossnth, Louis, H. I. B. on, i. 251.
La Croix, S. F., H. I. B. meets, i.
33 ; appearance, 34.
Lafayette, Madame de, U. 66.
Lafayette, Marquis de, neglected by
Louis PhiUppe, i. 4l ; impression
on H. I. B., 42 ; popular demon
stration in 1834, 71 ; H. I. B.'s
reminiscences, u. 67-69.
Lafitte, Jacques, i. 41.
La Place, Madame de, receives H.
L B., i. 19-21 ; H. I. B. visits in
1859, 820, 821 ; H. I. B.'s renunis-
cences, ii. 127-137.
La Place, Marquis P. S. de., Nathan
iel Bowditch translates his Me
canique C&este, i. 17; bust of,
presented to N. B., 21.

Lascar Sal, Dickens's, H. I. B. sees,
u. 160-162.
Latimer, George, fugitive slave, ar
rest and purchase, i. 133 ; ex
citement, 133 ; Latimer Journal
and North Star, 133 ; petition to
the Legislature and to Congress,
134^136; effect on H. I. B., 136;
effect m New England, 139, 141,
164 ; 'Whittier on, 139, 140, U. 321.
Law, George, warns Lincoln, ii. 3.
Lee, Coh P. L., H. L B. visits, u. 73.
Lee, Gen. E. E., Confederate officer's
recoUections, u. 311.
Legendre, A. M., H. I. B. expects a
caU from, i. 19 ; sends books to
Nathaniel Bowditch, 21 ; H. I. B.
meets, 33.
Leighton, Mr., believes that Apple
dore Island is rising, i. 301.
Liberty party, Senator Hale on, i.
185 ; H. I. B. on, 188.
Libraries, H. I. B.'s desire for free,
i. 50.
Lincoln, Abraham, popular dissatis
faction in 1861, u. 3 ; effect of his
death, 47-54 ; best speeches, 53 ;
death appropriate, 53.
Lincoln Building. ;See " Crystal Pal
ace."
Literature, H. I. B. on the scope of
a doctor's reading, U. 208, 209.
London, H. I. B. visits, in 1833, i.
52-56; H. I. B.'s night visit to
the slums, ii. 153-178 ; theatres
for the poor, 165-168 ; casual
wards, 168-170 ; pubUc lodging
houses, 174; tenement improve
ment, 326-328.
Longworth, Nicholas, u. 216.
Loring, E. G., commissioner in the
Burns case, i. 267-269.
Loring, E. G., harbors EUen Craft,
i. 206.
Louis, H. I. B.'s courier, ii. 186.
Louis, Dr. P. C. A., H. I. B.'s instruc-
tor,i. 18, 28; H.I. B.'s appreciation,
37-39, 49, 62-64, 75, u. 270-275;
H. I. B. visits m 1867, 141-144 ;
Dr. Jacob Bigelow on his influence,
286, 287.
Louise, daughter of Louis PhiUppe,
appearance, i. 29.
Lovejoy, Eev. J. C, at the funeral of
Torrey, i. 177.

392

INDEX

LoweU, J. J., Confederate officer's
account of his death, u. 309.
LoweU, J. R., letters to, 1846, on
Torrey, i. 173-177 ; poem on Tor
rey, 174, 176, 178.
LoweU, Miss Sally, reminiscence of,
ii. 308.
Loyal Women of American Liberty,
letter to, 1889, on treatment of
the negro, ii. 346-348.
Lunt, George, and the rendition of
Sims, i. 219 n.
McDonald, Mrs., of Scotiand, letter
to, 1891, on the death of Mrs.
Bowditch, ii. 364.
McGuinness, Mr., of St. Louis, i. 307.
Magendie, Frangois, H. I. B. meets
afad studies under, i. 20, 28, U.
131.
Maine, H. I. B.'s trip to the wilds of,
i. 284-300.
Marat, J. P., house where he was
murdered, i. 51, ii. 138.
Maria H. of Portugal in Paris in
' 1832, i. 29.
Marie Antoinette, H. I. B. on, ii.
145.
Marine zoology, excursion of Agassiz
and H. I. B., i. 193-199.
Married women, agitation in Eng
land on property of, ii. 182.
Mars, MUe., H. I. B. hears, i. 36.
Marstone cottage, i. 329.
Martin, Elizabeth, cousin of H. I. B.,
i. 11.
Martin, Steve, ii. 59.
Martiueau, Harriet, letter from,
1838, on Nathaniel Bowditch,
Sumner, and her health, i. 108,
109 ; H. I. B. visits m 1859, 310,
321-323 ; interest in public affairs,
322 ; atheism, 323.
Massachusetts General Hospital, H.
I. B.'s connection, i. 130-132, 142.
Massachusetts Historical Society,
letter to, 1887, on John Brown, ii.
93-101.
Massachusetts StateBoardof Health,
organization, i. 217-222 ; work and
methods, 222-235 ; combined with
other boards, 226, 236, 245, 248.
Maunoir, Dr. T. D. E., H. I. B.'s
friendship in Paris, i. 18, ii. 274 ;
H. I. B. visits in 1859, i. 317.

Medicine, cholera epidemics, i. 22,
U. 141, 287-289 ; principles of the
Philadelphia school, 285 ; Bigelow
on character of physicians, 289,
290 See also Bowditch, H. I.
(Professional life).
Memorial Cabinet, u. 26-30, 84, 96,
208.
Mezzofanti, Giuseppe, H. I. B. meets,
i. 76-79.
Microscopic investigation, H. I. B.'s
interest, i. 143, 190, 193.
MUls, Charles, i. 192.
MUton, Mass., H. I. B.'s residence
at, u. 43, 103.
Minot, Dr. Francis, u. 35.
Miserere, effect on H. I. B., i. 79.
MitcheU, WiUiam, i. 193.
MitcheU, Z. D., Mame guide, i. 286.
Morland, Dr. W. W., on Lincoln's
death, u. 48.
Moule, Eev. Henry, paper on sewage
before the English Social Science
Association, u. 180.
Music, H. I. B.'s love for, i. 7, 79,
80, 256, U. 341-344 ; Mrs. Bow-
ditch's talent, i. 84.
Naples, post office in 1834, i. 76.
Napoleon III., Miss Martineau on,
i. 322.
Nash, Mrs., recoUections of John
Brown, ii. 64, 65.
National Board of Health, organiza
tion and early work, u. 243-247,
250, 251 ; suggestions on, 247.
Nature, H. I. B.'s love for, i. 4, 153,
164, 195, 249, 259, 300, u. 61-63,
69, 360, 361.
" Naugus Holers," i. 5.
Neaves, Lord, address before the So
cial Science Association, ii. 179.
Nebraska Bill, effect on anti-slavery
sentiment, i. 264.
Negroes, troops at Eeadville, Mass.,
ii. 43 ; H. I. B.'s address to troops,
44-46 ; H. I. B. advocates suffrage
for, 52 ; H. I. B. on treatment
of, 346-348, 356. See also Anti-
slavery.
Nemours, Due de, appearance, i. 29.
New York, cholera epidemic, ii.
287-289.
Newcastle-upon-Tyne, meeting of
the Social Science Association, ii.

INDEX

393

178-182; castle, 182 ; Roman waU,
183.
Newton, Sir Isaac, temper, i. 53.
Nichol, J. P., anecdotes on De Quin
cey, L 331-334.
Old age, H. L B. on, ii. 297-302,
317.
Olnhausen fanuly, H. L B.'s account
and connection, ii. 315-317.
Olnhausen, Geoi^ von, ii 110.
Opium smoking, H. I. B. on London
dens, U. 160-164.
Oppolzer, Dr. Jean, of Vienna, L
314.
Orleans, Due de, appearance, i. 29.
Otis, Madam (Mjs. H. G.), in Paris,
i. 65.
Owen, Sir Richard, Agassiz on, L
201.
Owens, Mary W., letter to, 1889, on
the eivU war, U, 34-5.
Oxnard, Henry, opposes AboUtion-
ists, i. 101.
P., E., H. L B. on, i. 170.
Paget, Sir James, H. L B.'s impres
sion, iL 146 ; as a lecturer, 147 ;
on the medical profession, 322.
Paine, R. T., iL 320.
Paracentesis thoracis, H. I. B.'s ef
fort to introduce the operation, L
231 ; first operation, 2S2 ; priority
of suggestion, 232-2:>4 ; reception
in Europe, 233, 2.34, 310, 313, 314,
330 ; apparatus, 336.
Par^, Ambroise, eontro-versy over
supposed portrait of, iL 2.58—260.
Paris, H. L B. studies in, L IS, 62 ;
" three days " fete in 18:32, 2:5-30 ;
American society in 1833-34, 35,
47, 64; Odeon Theatre m 1833,
85 ; political conditions in 1833-34,
41, 69-72 ; H. L B. visits in 1*59,
318 ; H. L B.'s reminiscences, n.
126, 137.
Park Street Church, Boston, refuses
to hold the funeral of Torrey, i.
175, 177.
Parker, Theodore, his church and
tenement improvement, i. 190 ; at
Boston meeting on the Fugitive
Slave Law, 204 ; -views the ren
dition of Sims, 217 ; harbors the
Crafts, 208. I

Parker, Dr. WUlard, H. L B. on, iL
332.
Parkman, Dr. Samuel, H. I. B.'s
friendship, i. 261.
Parsons, Rev. T. W., letter to, 1890,
on a sunset, vl. 360.
Pate, Clay, border-ruffian, and John
Brown, u. 8&-90.
Patriotism, H. L B.'s, L 6, u. 124,
144, 21 L
Peabody, Mrs., iu Paris in 1833,
L47.
Pearson, J. H., returns a fugitive to
slavery, i. 179, 180 ; changed views
on slavery, 264.
Peirce, Benjamin, early mathema
tical tendencies, L 9.
Peirson, Dr. A. L., of Salem, ii. 272.
Penobscot Eiver, H. I. B.'s trip
down, L 284, 292-300.
Percys, castie of the, H. I. B. on, n.
184.
Perkins, Mrs. T. H., L 47.
Perry, Com. O. H., H. L B. sees,
L6.
Peterboro', N. H., H. I. B. at, ii
355-362, 366, 367.
Phi Beta Kappa dinner, incident
during, U. 307-311.
Philadelphia school of medicine, Dr.
Jacob Bigelow on, iL 284, 285.
PhiUips, S. C, L 178.
PhilUps, WendeU, at Boston meet
ing on the Fugitive Slave Law, L
204 ; does not see the rendition of
Sims, 218 ; at the outbreak of the
ci-vU war, iL 4 ; on John Brown,
81 ; and the bust of John Brown,
84-87 ; as an anti-slavery man,
3.34.
Phosphorescence, aTiiTngl, Agassiz
on, i 196.
Physic, Dr. P. S., of Philadelphia,
Dr. Jacob Bigelow on, ii. 285.
Pickering, H. W., schoolmate of
H. L B., i. 8.
Pickering, John, L 33.
Pierpont, John, anti-slavery poem,
L 133 ; Whittier on, 140.
Plunket, T. H.. and the State Board
of Health Bill, U. 218, 219.
Poisson, S. D., calls on H. I. B., i
19; sends books to Nathaniel
Bowditch, 21.
PoUtical conditions, in France in

394

INDEX

1833-34, i 41, 69-72 ; in United
States in 1845, 170 ; m 1846, 184-
189; the Senate m 1852, 253.
See also Anti-slavery, CivU War.
Politics and sanitation, U. 226, 236,
244.
Pope, H. I. B. on his temporal power,
U. 148.
Powers, Dr. C. A., letter to, 1889, on
medical affairs, U. 331-334.
Powers, Daniel, H. I. B.'s friend
ship, i. 147, 153, 166-169, 171.
Preventive medicine, H. I. B. on, ii.
221, 234, 245-250, 331, 357; Dr.
Jacob Bigelow on, 290-292. See
also Massachusetts State Board of
Health, National Board of Health.
Propaganda, Eome, languages spo
ken at, i. 77.
Psalms, H. I. B.'s appreciation, i 8,
238, 243.
PnbUc lodging houses for the poor
in London, u. 174.
Putnam, Katharine D., fiancee of
Nathaniel Bowditch, ii. 24; rela
tion with H. L B., 24-26 ; death,
26 ; memoir, 26.
Putnam, W. L., kiUed at BaU's
Bluff, U. 5.
Quincy, Edmund, as an anti-slavery
man, U. 335.
Quincy, Josiah, i. 33.
Eacquette Lake, N. Y., H. I. B. at,
n. 68.
Bay, Dr. J. E., ii. 213.
EeadviUe, Mass., H. I. B. addresses
negro troops at, ii. 43-46.
Religion, H. I. B.'s views, L 2-4, 72-
74, 79, 103-105, 114-119, 148-150,
154, 162, 165, 191, 227-229, 238,
298, 323, n. 71, 209, 210, 270, 325,
860, 364, 369 ; H. I. B. and Jouf
froy on the question of develop
ment in Christianity, i. 45-47 ;
C. C. Emerson on, 107 ; Channing
on religious observances, 116-118;
faith of Daniel Powers, 167 ; Miss
Martineau's views, 323 ; views
of Jeffries Wyman, u. 70, 71 ;
views of Judge Hale, 77 ; and
science, 98, 325 ; and medicine, 209,
210 ; views of Jacob Bigelow, 293.
Richardson, Mr., i. 302.

Eignall, Mary C, (Mrs. 'Wheeler),
letters to, 1844, on domestic af
fairs, L 154r-156 ; 1851, on slavery,
227-229. See also 'Wheeler, Mrs.
M. C.
RUey, J. H., marshal in the Shad
rach case, L 213.
Ritchie, John, U. 353.
Robespierre, H. I. B. on, U. 145.
Rogers, Mr., views the rendition of
Sims, i. 217.
Rokitanski, Dr. Charles, of Vienna,
i 315.
Eoman wall at Newcastle-npon-
Tyne, U. 183.
Eome, H. L B. visits in 1834, i. 79.
Eothe, Dr. C. G., ii. 265.
Rush, Dr. Benjamin, Dr. Jacob
Bigelow on, ii. 285.
Eydal Mount, England, H. I. B. at,
i. 324.
S  , H. I. B. on his domestic ten
dencies, i. 155.
S  , Captain, shows the white
feather, ii. 4.
Salem, Mass., former prosperity and
Sunday observances, i 2.
Sanitation. See Preventive medi
cine.
Saranac Lake, N. Y., H. I. B. at, ii.
77.
Sargent, J. T., letter from, on H. I.
B.'s conviction for assault, u. 41.
Saturday Review ou the Massachu
setts State Board of Health, ii.
235.
Sawyer, Warren, member of the
Massachusetts State Board of
Health, U. 217.
Schwann, Theodor, Agassiz on, i
201.
Science and relirion, U. 98, 325.
Scotland, H. I. B. visits in 1833, i.
56-62.
Sea serpent, encounter with, i. 302.
Secret societies, H. I. B.'s antipathy,
i 271, 274.
Self-restraint, H. I. B. on, i. 261.
Senate, character in 1852, i. 253.
Sever, Anne, i. 170.
Sewage, discussion by English So
cial Science Association, ii. 180.
Seward, W. H., denounces the Han
num episode, i. 182.

INDEX

395

Shadrach rescne, i. 212-214 ; result
ing excitement, 214 ; Le-vris Hay
den's share, u. 350.
Shapleigh, Prank, ii. 26.
Sharp, Abraham, i. 53.
Shaw, Judge Lemuel, and the Sims
case, i. 219.
Shaw, Col. E. G., H. I. B. on, u. 69,
116.
Shedd, J. B., U. 355.
Shepherd of Salisbury Plains, tract,
i 334.
Simon, John, greeting to H. I. B., u.
202.
Sims, Thomas, fugitive slave, rendi
tion, i. 215-224 ; newspaper criti
cism of H. I. B.'s conduct at, 224,
225 ; effect on H. I. B., 225-229.
Slade, WiUiam, denounces the Han
num episode, i. 182.
Slavery and the churches, i. 114.
See also Anti-slavery.
Smith, J. V. C, mayor ot Boston,
and the Bums case, i. 267, 268.
Smith, Mrs., of Holmes' Hole, i.
249.
Smith, Dr. Ashael, of Texas, u. 240.
Smith, Gerrit, denounces Hannum
episode, i. 182 ; negro colony at
North Elba, u. 79; and John
Brown, 88.
Smith, Dr. Nathan, H. I. B. and
Jacob Bigelow on, U. 285, 286.
Social Science, H. I. B. on the Eng
lish Association for Promotion of,
u. 179-182.
Socialism, H. I. B.'s attitude, i 192.
Soci^t^ Medicale d'Observation,
Paris, H. I. B.'s experience in join
ing, i 30, u. 273.
Society for Medical Observation,
Boston, i. 145.
Sohier, E. D., n. 84.
SoU moisture, influence on consump
tion, u. 200-203.
SomerviUe, Mrs. Mary P., H. I. B.
calls on, i. 30 ; appearance, 31 ;
kindness to H. I. B. in England,
52, n. 267.
SomerviUe, Dr. William, H. I. B.
meets, i. 81, S3.
South,' H. I.'B.'s attitude toward, in
1889, U. 845 ; outrages on negroes,
340-348. See also CivU War.
Southwiok, Ahbie, i. 157.

Specialization, Agassiz on, i. 199.
Spurzheim, Kaspar, funeral, i. 33,
41.
Stanton, E. M., u. 31, 32.
Stanton, H. B., at the commemora
tion of Torrey, i. 178.
State medicine, H. I. B. ou the
meaning of the expression, ii.
221. See also Preventive medicine.
Steams, F. P., on historical perspec
tive, i. 283.
Steams, G. L., as an anti-slavery
man, ii. 87-92, 374; during the
civU war, 351.
Steams, Mrs. G. L., letters to, 1886,
1888, on John Brown and anti-
slavery, ii. 85, 98 ; letters from,
1886, 1889, on John Brown, 85-87,
101 ; reminiscences and bust of
John Brown, 87-93, 374-376 ; let
ters to, 1887, on tiie Olnhausens
and on old age, 315-318 ; 1890, on
his life at Peterboro', 356.
Stebbms, Rev. R. P., u. 4.
Stevenson, J. T., and Webster's 7th
of March speech, i. 203.
Stills, Dr. Alfred, anecdote, u. 241 ;
H. L B. visits, 242.
Stimson, Johnny, i 237.
Strassburg after the capture in 1870,
u. 187-199.
Sumner, Charles, treatment by
Ticknor, i. 101 ; reception in Eng
land, 108 ; letters from, 1838, on
Babbage and Nathaniel Bowditch,
109-111; 1851, 1854, on poUtics,
262, 255 ; letters to, 1852, on poU
tics, 253 ; 1863, on the ambulance
corps, u. 12; and the ambulance
corps, 11-13 ; battie-flag episode,
55, 278 ; H. I. B:'s tribute, 276-
280 ; and the Trent affak, 277 ;
neuralgic suffering, 279, 280.
Sun-dial, the 'Whittier, i 239-247.
Swampscott, Mass., copperhead
tarred and feathered, u. 50.
Sweetser, P. H., ii. 35.
Switzerland, education, ii. 123.
Talbot, Gov. Thomas, u. 226.
Tappan, Benjamin, teacher in Salem,
L 8.
Temperance, H. I. B. on, i. 114, u.
230-233.
Tenement improvement, in Boston, i.

396

INDEX

189, 190, U. 328-330 ; m London,
326-328.
Thaxter, Levi, i 301.
Thayer, A. H., letters to, 1890, u.
358, 361-363 ; H. I. B. on, 366.
Thayer, J. B., U. 308.
Thayer, Dr. W. H., reminiscences
of H. I. B., i. 142-147, 335, ii 200 ;
letters to, 1853, on meeting a
friend of childhood, i. 256-260 ;
1857, 1858, on their friendship,
260-262, 309 ; I860; on teaching
and medical affairs, 335-337 ;
1879, on being a cripple, ii. 293 ;
1885, announcing a visit, 304 ;
1891, on birthday congratulations,
359; 1891, on the death of Mrs.
Bowditch, 366.
Thayer, Mrs. W. H., letter to, 1863,
on the death of his son, ii. 19.
Theatres, in Paris in 1833, i. 35 ; for
the poor in London, U. 165-168.
Thompson, George, attempt to mob
in Boston, i. 100.
Thoracentesis. See Paracentesis
thoracis.
" Three days " fete in Paris in 1833,
i. 23-30.
Ticknor, George, letter, 1832, intro
ducing H. I. B. to Humboldt, i.
17 ; accompanies Miss Yardley to
America, 97 ; attitude toward anti-
slavery, ioi.
Todd, IsabeUa, of Ireland, at meet
ing of the English Social Science
Association, ii. 182.
Topeha Daily Capital, account of the
bust of John Brown, iL 373-376.
Torrey, C. T., imprisonment, death,
and funeral, i. 156, 172-178.
Torrey, H. W., intended letter to,
1850, on the Craft case, i. 209-
212.
Toussaint Louverture, U. 125.
Traube, Dr. L. T., of Dresden, i.
313.
Trenholme, Dr. E. H., of Montreal,
U. 236.
Trent affair, Sumner's attitude, u.
277.
Tucker, Mrs., of New York, i. 47.
Tukey, Francis, city marshal, aids in
the Sims rendition, i. 220, 221 n.
Turnipseed, Dr. E. B., of Columbia,
S. C, ii. 240.

TwitcheU, Dr. Amos, H. I. B.'s Life
of, i. 252 ; abUity, ii. 284.
Upper Saranac Lake, H. I. B. at, ii.
59.
Vermiform appendix. See Appen
dix csBci.
VersaiUes, H. I. B. describes, i. 39-
41.
Vienna, H. I. B.'s professional expe
rience in 1859, i. 314-317.
VigUance Committee, Boston, forma
tion after the Hannum episode, i.
179, 181 ; and the Burns case, 266.
Virchow, Rudolf, on H. I. B., ii.
258.
Vose, J. T., i. 120.
Wakefield, Simon, i 288.
Walker, Jonathan, branded for steal
ing slaves, i. 144 n., ii. 27.
Walker, Dr. Mary A., in the CivU
War, ii. 217.
Warden, D. B., sends books to Na
thaniel Bowditch, i. 21.
Ware, Dr. John, first professional
profits, i. 95 ; abihty, ii. 284 ; expe
riences in the cholera epidemic,
287-289.
Warren, Dr. J. C, approves of tho
racentesis, i 231 ; as a surgeon,
ii. 332.
Warren, Mason, with H. I. B. in
Paris, i. 18, 32, 39.
Warren Sti'eet Chapel, Boston, pur
pose, i. 112; El. I. B. becomes
interested in, 112, 113 ; and anti-
slavery, 119-129 ; H. I. B. retires
from, 124 ; floral procession, 126,
143.
Washburn, Mr., u. 152.
Washburn, Gov. Emory, and the
Burns case, L 267.
Waterhouse, Prof. Benjamin, sun
dial, i. 239, 244; H. I. B. on, 244.
Waterlow, Sir Sidney, interest in
tenement improvement, ii. 327.
Webster, Daniel, H. I. B. on, i. 202-
204, 210, 281, iL 301.
Weltch, Samuel, interested in War
ren Street Chapel, i 120 ; opposes
anti-slavery lectures, 124.
West Indian emancipation, H. I. B.
commemorates, i 119.

INDEX

397

Weston, Ezra, Jr., interested in War
ren Street Chapel, i. 143.
Weston, Mass., H. I. B.'s home at, i.
236-243.
Wheatland, Henry, schoolmate of
H. L B., i. 8.
¦Wheeler, Mrs. M. C, letter to, 1889,
on the outbreak of the civil war,
ii. 344. See also RignaU.
White, Dr. J. C, of Boston, u. 35.
White, Dr. J. P., of Buffalo, u. 236,
241.
¦White, WiUiam, i. 161.
" 'White Cat's Palace," u. 71.
Whiting, James, opposes anti-slavery
lectures in Warren Street Chapel,
il24.
Whittier, J. G., and the Latimer
case, i. 139, 140, u. 321 ; verses
for H. L B.'s sun-dial, L 239, 244,
245 ; letters from, 1842, on the
Latimer case, 140; 1854, on the
Bums case, 269-271 ; 1864, on H.
I. B.'s memorials of the war, ii.
29 ; 1892, to Miss Bowditch, on
her father, 371 ; letters to, 1887,
1891, on his birthdays, 320-323,
368 ; H. I. B. dedicates a, rustic
seat to, 356.
WUberforce, WUUam, funeral, i 54.
¦WiUiams, Dr. H. P., his pneumatic
differentiator, ii. 304.
Willis, HamUton, change in views
on slavery, i 264.
Wilmot Proviso, Senator Hale on,
i 185;H.LB. on, 187.

Wilson, Henry, and the ambulance
service, U. 11, 13, 17 ; letter to,
1863, 13.
Winthrop, R. C, ignores the slavery
issue, i. 170 ; post-bellum incident,
u. 57 ; as president of the Pierian
SodaUty, 342.
Wise, Gov. H. A., on John Brown, u.
97.
Wistar, Dr. Caspar, Dr. Jacob Bige
low on, U. 285.
WoUlez, Dr. Engine, of Paris, H. I.
B., meets, u. 141, 143.
Women physicians, H. I. B. on, ii.
212-216, 252-254, 297, 303.
Wordsworth, William, H. I. B. visits
his home, i. 310, 324^-329.
Wright, EUzur, as an anti-slavery
man, u. 334, 335.
Wyman, Dr. Jeffries, ii. 5 ; in the
Adirondacks, 69 ; H. I. B. on his
character and beliefs, 70, 71.
Wyman, Dr. MorriU, first to operate
by thoracentesis, i. 232, 234 n.
X  , behavior at the English
Social Science Association, ii. 180.
Yardley, Charles, U. 153.
Yardley, OUvia. See Bowditch (OU
via).
YeUow fever, efforts against, of the
National Board of Health, u. 243-
245.
Zermatt, H. L B. at, ii. 118-120.

END OP VOLUME II.

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