Chapter IV: Part 4

Mary immediately began to coöperate with Dr. Livermore in his work. For thirteen years she assisted him in the affairs of his parish, during which time three children were born to them. She started literary and benevolent societies among the church members and was active in the cause of temperance, organizing a club of fifteen hundred boys and girls which she called the "Cold Water Army."

In 1857 the Livermores removed to Chicago. Mrs. Livermore while there aided in editing the _New Covenant_, a religious paper, at the same time writing stories and sketches for many Eastern publications. In 1860, when Abraham Lincoln was nominated for the Presidency, Mrs. Livermore was the only woman present,—probably the first woman representative of the press who ever reported a political convention.

The breaking out of the Civil War changed her life of domestic quietness to public activity. Being in Boston at the time that the President called for volunteer troops, she witnessed their departure for the seat of war. The sad scenes at the station, where mothers parted from sons, and wives from their husbands, affected her strongly. As the train carrying the soldiers started off, some of the women fainted. Mrs. Livermore helped to revive them, telling them not to grieve, but rather to be thankful that they had sons to fight for their country. For her part, she told them, she grieved to have no son to send.

Then a question arose in her mind: What _could_ women do to help? The general feeling seemed to be that women could do nothing, since they were not allowed to enlist and fight as soldiers. They were told they were not wanted in the hospitals, but notwithstanding this a large number of women banded together and formed "The United States Sanitary Commission," whose object was to provide bedding, clothing, food, and comforts for the soldiers in camp, and supplies for the wounded in the hospitals.

Branch associations were formed in ten large cities. Mrs. Livermore and Mrs. Jane C. Hoge were put in charge of the Northwestern branch. Together with others Mrs. Livermore went to Washington to talk with President Lincoln. They asked him the question, "May women go to the front?"

Lincoln replied, "The _law_ does not _grant_ to any civilian, either man or woman, the privilege of going to the front."

The emphasis he placed upon the words _law_ and _grant_ convinced these women that he would not disapprove of their plans. So Mrs. Livermore entered hand, heart and soul into the work of relief.

The North was entirely unprepared for war. The hospitals were few and poorly equipped; nurses were scarce and not well trained; there were no diet kitchens; nor was there any way of supplying proper medicines to the sick or of caring for the wounded. To all of these matters Mrs. Livermore gave her attention; the confusion came to an end, and soon the machinery of the new department was running smoothly.

She formed soldiers' aid societies; enlisted nurses for the hospitals and took them to their posts; she went to the front with supplies, and saw that they were properly distributed; she nursed and cheered the wounded soldiers, and often brought back invalids with her to their homes. With all this work, she kept cheerful and well, and found time to write letters of comfort and cheer to the families of the sick. In one year she wrote seventeen hundred letters, many being from dying soldiers, and containing their last farewell to loved ones at home.

The Sanitary Commission was permitted in time of battle to keep its wagons in the rear of the army. Hot soup and hot coffee were kept in readiness, cool water and medicines were given when necessary, while the mere fact that brave women were ready to assist the wounded, put confidence into the hearts of the men.

It is impossible to describe the great work done by this untiring woman. Mrs. Livermore tells about it in her book called _My Story of the War_, which is said to be the best account of the hospital and sanitary work of the Civil War that has ever been written.

This work took a great deal of money. Donations must be constantly solicited and Sanitary Fairs arranged. From all parts of the country, people were writing and begging Mrs. Livermore to come to them and tell them about her plans. She frequently did describe them in an informal way to small audiences.

Her first public speech was made in Dubuque, Iowa, where she had consented to address some ladies. Leaving Chicago by the night train she reached the Mississippi River at a point where there was no bridge, travelers being obliged to cross by ferry. It was very cold and the ice in the river had stopped the ferryboats. Mrs. Livermore, after waiting nearly all day, began to think she would not be able to keep her engagement. At last she saw two men starting out in a small boat, whom she asked to row her across.

One man said, "No, we can't think of it! You'll be drowned!"

Mrs. Livermore replied, "I can't see that I shall be drowned any more than you!"

Her offer to pay them well settled the matter. This determination to accomplish whatever she undertook to do was the chief reason for Mrs. Livermore's success in all her undertakings. The fact is, she liked to do hard things.

Upon her arrival at Dubuque she found that the ladies had made great preparations to receive her. They had invited the Governor of the State and many noted men, and the largest church in town was crowded with eager people. This rather alarmed her. At first she refused to speak, saying that she had come to talk to a few ladies only; that she had never made a speech in her life. But when they said that by speaking she might be the means of inducing the great State of Iowa to enter upon the work of Sanitary Relief, her shyness departed and she held her audience spellbound for an hour and a quarter. A new power had suddenly developed in her.

At the close of her address the Governor of the State arose and said,

"Mrs. Livermore has told us of the soldiers' needs and of our duties! It is now our turn to speak, and we must speak in dollars and gifts!"

The enthusiasm was great; eight thousand dollars was soon pledged and other donations were made. It was decided to hold a Sanitary Fair in Dubuque, and Mrs. Livermore was engaged to speak in different towns throughout the State to interest the people in it. When the fair was held, sixty thousand dollars was cleared. After that, Mary Livermore was never again afraid to speak before a large audience. By her lectures she raised hundreds of thousands of dollars for the hospital work.

At the close of the war, people were so anxious to hear Mrs. Livermore that she became a regular public lecturer, traveling from place to place and lecturing always before crowded houses. Her eloquence has been equaled by few modern speakers, and undoubtedly she was the foremost of women orators.

Before the war, Mrs. Livermore had been opposed to woman suffrage, but life in the army caused her to change her views on that question. She saw that, under existing political and social conditions, women could never hope to complete reforms until they possessed the right to vote. She was also devoted to the cause of temperance, serving for ten years as President of the Women's Christian Temperance Union of Massachusetts. All this while she was writing articles for magazines, and at the age of seventy-five Mrs. Livermore produced a book of seven hundred pages, entitled _The Story of My Life_.

A bust of Mrs. Livermore, made by the sculptor, Annie Whitney, was presented to the Shurtleff School in Boston by the Alumnae Association of that institution. It stands opposite that of Lucy Stone, which was the first bust of a woman ever accepted by the city of Boston for its schools.

Mrs. Livermore continued in public work, while living at her beautiful home in Melrose, Massachusetts, until May 23, 1905, when she passed away at the age of eighty-four.

CLARA BARTON

(1821-1912)

"She was on the firing line for humanity all her life."

The Red Cross Society, whose object is to relieve the sufferings caused by war, is well known the world over, and the name of Clara Barton must ever be associated with it.

This Society was founded in Europe in 1864, but did not make its way to America until 1881, when Clara Barton succeeded in establishing it.

Born in the town of North Oxford, Massachusetts, on Christmas Day, 1821, Clara Barton began life under most favorable circumstances.

The family was well-to-do and Clara, being the youngest, received much attention from all. Her father, who had fought under Mad Anthony Wayne against the Indians of the West, used to tell her stories of army life—knowledge which she afterward turned to good account.

Her elder brother was fond of mathematics, and insisted upon teaching Clara the mysteries of number. These she mastered rapidly and soon no toy equaled her little slate in her esteem.

Her younger brother, David, was a fearless and daring rider. On the farm were several fine horses, for Mr. Barton was fond of the animals and raised his own colts. It was David's delight to take little Clara, throw her upon the back of a colt and spring upon another himself. Then, shouting to her to "cling fast to the mane," he would catch hold of her by one foot and together they would gallop away. What mad rides they took, and how well Clara learned to stick on a horse's back! These lessons, too, she had cause to be thankful for later in life, when she was obliged to mount a strange horse on the battle-field and ride fearlessly to a place of safety.

Her two sisters, who were teachers, took care that she should have a knowledge of books. Miss Barton said that she did not remember the time when she could not read; she always did her own story reading.

When old enough she was sent to an academy at Clinton, New York, where she graduated. She then became a teacher and opened the first free school in the State of New Jersey, at Bordentown. Here her work was very successful, her school numbering at the close of the first year six hundred pupils. But, her health failing, she gave up the school work in 1854 and obtained a position as Head Clerk in the Patent Office at Washington.

When the Civil War broke out, she offered her services as a volunteer nurse, and from the beginning of the war until its close she worked in the hospital, in the camp, and on the battle-field.

During the Peninsula campaign in 1862, Miss Barton faced horrible scenes on the field. She also served eight months in the hospitals on Morris Island during the siege of Charleston, and was at the front during the Wilderness campaign. In 1864 she was put in charge of the hospitals at the front of the Army of the James, and continued that work until the close of the war.

All this time Miss Barton persisted in aiding the wounded soldiers of _both_ armies—a practice which shocked many people and caused them to protest. But she paid no attention to the protests, nor are any such heard to-day, for Clara Barton's way of helping the suffering, regardless of the uniform they wore, is now followed over the civilized world; it is the very heart of the plan of the Red Cross Society itself.

War over, and peace assured to our land, President Lincoln requested Miss Barton to search for the eighty thousand men whose names were on the army records, but of whom no trace could be found. In the course of this work, Miss Barton visited the prison at Andersonville and helped the released prisoners to regain their health and their homes. She laid out the ground of the National Cemetery at that place, identified the dead, and caused marked gravestones to be placed over the bodies of twelve thousand nine hundred men. Four hundred tablets, marked "Unknown," were placed over the bodies of other dead soldiers.

This Work took four years to accomplish, and when it was over Miss Barton went to Switzerland for rest. Here she first heard of the Red Cross Society. The idea had originated with a Swiss, M. Henri Dunant. Each European country had signed a treaty permitting the members of this association to help all the wounded on the battle-field without interference, and without regard to religion or race, or whether they were friends or foes.

Miss Barton devoted herself to this work during the Franco-Prussian War. After the siege of Strasburg, when the people of that city were in a terrible condition, she organized a relief fund for the starving, and saw to it that the homeless were given places to sleep. Materials for garments were obtained, and the poor women were set to work at a fair price to make articles of wearing apparel for the needy.

When no longer needed in Strasburg, Miss Barton went to Paris, where the breaking out of the French Revolution after the war with Prussia had caused great distress. She entered the city on foot, for it was impossible to procure a horse, thousands having been slain to use as food for the starving inhabitants. Miss Barton immediately began relief work there, with such success that she came to be looked upon as an angel.

In 1873, on her return to America, she asked Congress to join in a treaty with the European powers to establish the Red Cross Society here. It took a long time to secure this legislation, and it was not until 1881, as stated before, that the Red Cross was established with us. Clara Barton was chosen as the first President and soon afterward she had an amendment passed widening the scope of the Society so as to include cases of suffering from floods, fires, famine, earthquake, and other forms of disaster. The amendment also gave protection to all Red Cross workers. This was agreed to at a conference of the Society held at Berne in 1882, but was not adopted by any of the European nations. At that time there was little possibility of a war in the United States, and Miss Barton thought she would have little to do unless she extended the plan of work. As it was, she found quite enough to do.

The forest fires in Michigan, the Mississippi Valley floods, 1882-1883, the Charleston earthquake, the Johnstown flood—all afforded much work for the Red Cross. During the famine in Russia, 1891-1892, Miss Barton and her Society took an active part in distributing food and clothing. When the frightful massacres in Armenia brought horror to the civilized world, again Miss Barton made an appeal to a European country to be allowed to help the sufferers. The Sultan at first objected, but public opinion was too strong for him, and he finally consented on condition that the workers should place the crescent above the cross on the badges worn by them. Miss Barton and her assistants were then pleasantly received and succeeded in giving valuable aid.

In 1898 President McKinley sent Miss Barton to Cuba to help the poor people of that country, many of whom were starving. During the Cuban War which followed, she went to the battle-fields and did heroic work there.

When the Galveston flood occurred, Miss Barton was eighty years old. Yet to Galveston she hastened. The strain, however, was more than she could endure. From that time she gave up active work and made her home in Glen Echo, a small village in Maryland. Here, enjoying the companionship of a few faithful friends, she spent the remainder of her life, passing away on April 12, 1912.

Miss Barton possessed one of the most remarkable collections of medals and other decorations in existence. They were presented to her by nearly every country on the globe. Many are set with rare jewels and bear inscriptions. Among them is the Iron Cross of Germany, the highest honor Germany can bestow, and one conferred only for deeds of great personal bravery. A rare jewel, which Miss Barton always wore, was a pansy cut from a single amethyst, presented to her by the Grand Duchess of Baden in memory of their lifelong friendship.

Clara Barton ranks as one of the greatest heroines the world has known. Her name is known and loved throughout Europe and America for unselfish devotion to a great cause. Her services in foreign lands were offered as freely as in her own country, for her creed was the brotherhood of man.

HARRIET HOSMER

(1830-1908)

... "A sculptor wields
The chisel, and the stricken marble grows
To beauty." ...

—_Bryan_

Harriet Goodhue Hosmer was born in Watertown, Massachusetts, October 9, 1830. She was the youngest child of Hiram and Sarah Grant Hosmer. From her father came her marked independence of character; from her mother, her imagination and artistic tastes.

The latter died when Harriet was four years of age. Dr. Hosmer determined to save his daughters from the insidious disease which had carried away his two sons as well as his wife, and so instituted for them a system of physical training, insisting upon out-of-door sports and amusements. Notwithstanding all his efforts, however, the elder daughter died, leaving Harriet as the sole surviving child.

Dr. Hosmer, grieved, but undismayed, renewed his endeavors to strengthen Harriet's vigor and increase her powers of endurance. Harriet took to this treatment very kindly, spending many joyous days tramping through the woods with her dogs. All the while, she observed keenly, acquiring a knowledge of plant and animal life, and storing up impressions of the beautiful and harmonious in Nature.

Her home was situated on the Charles River. She had her own boathouse and bathhouse. In summer she rowed and swam; in winter she skated. No nook or corner of the country round was unknown to her; the steepest hills, the wildest and most rugged regions, were her familiar haunts. A madcap was Harriet, and the sober neighbors were often astonished and even scandalized, by the undignified speed she made on her beautiful horse.

This kind of life would always have satisfied her, and Harriet thought it nothing short of an affliction when her father said she must go to school. Was she not getting her education in riding about the country? However, to school she went, in Boston, for several years.

But when she reached the age of fifteen, Dr. Hosmer became convinced that Harriet would never thrive, mentally or physically, unless she were left free to follow her own bent. And perhaps he never in his life made a wiser decision.

So he sent the wild girl to the home school of Mrs. Charles Sedgwick of Lenox. Here she had the benefits of cultured and elevating surroundings, together with motherly care, and also of the out-of-door life so dear to her heart and so necessary to her well-being.

Lenox, in the beautiful Berkshire Hills, was at that time a primitive village, though it has since grown into a fashionable summer resort. There, in Mrs. Sedgwick's refined and peaceful home, Harriet acquired her real education from listening to the conversations of such men and women as Nathaniel Hawthorne, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Frederika Bremer and Fanny Kemble.

This stimulus was all Harriet needed to develop in her the idea of doing some serious work in life. She began to give a great deal of time to drawing, her study of nature and her splendid powers of observation being of great assistance to her here.

Those were happy days for Harriet. She was the life of the household, being always ready to deliver comic lectures, to dress up in odd costumes, to give impromptu theatricals, or to say or do original things. Mrs. Kemble, who occupied a villa near the Sedgwicks, often entertained the school-girls by reading and reciting Shakespeare to them. Harriet became devotedly attached to her, their friendship lasting throughout their lives.

In 1849, Harriet left Lenox and returned to Watertown for the purpose of beginning her life work, which she had decided should be that of a sculptor. To work intelligently, it was necessary for her to know anatomy thoroughly, but there was no college where she could prepare herself in that study, for the subject was at that time reserved strictly for men.

It happened that Harriet went to St. Louis to visit friends, and that while she was there some lectures on anatomy were delivered by Dr. J. N. McDowell, the head of the medical department of the State University. The lectures were not open to women, but so great was Harriet's desire to profit by them that Professor McDowell allowed her to see his notes and examine the specimens by herself—a very radical act on his part, since it was thought indelicate for a woman to study this noble subject, even though the knowledge was to be used to create the beautiful in art and, so, to elevate public thought.

Harriet studied hard, and was rewarded at the close of the term by receiving her diploma with the class. This great concession had been gained through the influence of Mr. Wayman Crow, the father of a classmate of Harriet. Mr. Crow became her intimate friend and close adviser, watching over her and guiding her affairs as long as he lived.

The coveted diploma secured, Miss Hosmer decided to travel before returning home. She visited New Orleans and traversed almost the entire length of the Mississippi River. While on a Mississippi steamboat, some young men began to talk of their chances for reaching the top of a certain bluff which they were then approaching. Miss Hosmer made a wager that she could reach it before any of them. The race was made, Miss Hosmer winning easily. The bluff, about five hundred feet in height, was straightway named Mount Hosmer.

In 1852 appeared her first finished product. This was the bust of a beautiful maiden just falling asleep, and was entitled _Hesper, the Evening Star_.

About this time Miss Hosmer met the renowned actress, Charlotte Cushman. Miss Cushman, seeing promise in the girl's work, urged her to go to Rome and study. Dr. Hosmer approved of this suggestion, and soon father and daughter sailed for Europe.

Upon their arrival in Rome, they called upon John Gibson, the most noted English sculptor of the day, to whom they had letters of introduction. After examining the photographs of _Hesper_, and talking with Harriet, who always impressed strangers with a sense of her ability and earnestness, Gibson consented to take her into his studio as a pupil.

Overjoyed was she to be assigned to a small room formerly occupied by Canova, of whom Gibson had been a pupil. Here she began the study of ancient classical art, making copies of many masterpieces and selling them without any trouble. When her first large order for a statue came from her friend, Mr. Wayman Crow, Harriet felt that she was beginning the world in earnest. When this order was soon afterward followed by another for a statue to be placed in the Library at St. Louis, she knew that her career as a sculptor was assured.

International fame came to her with a figure of _Puck_, copies of which found their way into important public galleries and into private collections on both continents.

When the State of Missouri decided to erect its first public monument, she was requested to design a statue of Thomas H. Benton, to be cast in bronze and placed in St. Louis.

A work attracting unusual attention was _Zenobia_, _Queen of Palmyra, in Chains_. A replica of this now stands in the Metropolitan Museum, of New York City. Miss Hosmer's whole soul was enlisted in her work on this particular piece of sculpture. She spent days searching the libraries for information upon the subject, information that should stimulate her hand to express powerfully her conception of the great queen—dignified, imposing, and courageous, despite her fallen fortunes. This statue was exhibited in Rome, England and America.

Harriet Hosmer possessed a great faculty for inspiring warm and lasting friendships. Among her intimate friends during her long residence in Italy were the Brownings, Mrs. Jameson, Sir Frederick Leighton, and W. W. Story. The charming group of artistic people living at that time in Rome, most of them engaged in earnest work, occasionally took a holiday in the form of a picnic or an excursion to the Campagna. In one of her letters Mrs. Browning speaks of these excursions, which had been instituted by Fanny Kemble and her sister, Adelaide Sartoris:

Certainly they gave us some exquisite hours on the Campagna with certain of their friends. Their talk was almost too brilliant. I should mention, too, Miss Hosmer (but she is better than a talker), the young American sculptress who is a great pet of mine and Robert's. She lives here all alone (at twenty-two), works from six o'clock in the morning till night as a great artist must, and this with an absence of pretension and simplicity of manners, which accord rather with the childish dimples in her rosy cheeks, than with her broad forehead and lofty aims.

Frances Power Cobbe wrote of her:

She was in those days the most bewitching sprite the world ever saw. Never have I laughed so helplessly as at the infinite fun of that bright Yankee girl. Even in later years when we perforce grew a little graver, she needed only to begin one of her descriptive stories to make us all young again.

During five happy years, Charlotte Cushman, Miss Hosmer and another friend made their home together. In a letter to America, Harriet wrote: "Miss Cushman is like a mother to me, and spoils me utterly."

In 1862, Miss Hosmer received the news of her father's death. Though grieving sincerely, she worked but the more assiduously, to keep herself free of selfish sorrow. By means of the moderate fortune left her, she was able to take an apartment of her own, and establish a studio which was considered the most beautiful in Rome.

Here she entertained noted people of the day, who came to visit her. Usually, after a hard day's work, she would mount her horse and gallop over the Campagna, returning refreshed at night and ready to dine with her friends. Her animation and wit in discussion, her musical laughter, her gaiety and lightness of spirits, astonished and charmed all who met her.

Like most thinking women of the time, Harriet Hosmer abhorred slavery, and did her part in the Abolition movement by making an inspiring statue called _The African Sibyl_—the figure of a negro girl prophesying the freedom of her race. Of this work, Tennyson said, "It is the most poetic rendering in art of a great historical truth I have ever seen."

One of her notable orders came from the beautiful Queen of Naples, whose portrait she executed in marble. The Queen became a close friend of Miss Hosmer, and her brother, King Ludwig II of Bavaria, frequently visited the studio.

Miss Hosmer's last years were spent in England and America, with only occasional visits to Rome. Death came to her in 1908, at the age of seventy-eight, but to the end she remained an entertaining talker, recalling with joy the many episodes of her busy, happy life and the great people she had known.

LOUISA MAY ALCOTT

(1832-1888)

"God bless all good women! To their soft hands and pitying hearts we must all come at last."

—_Oliver Wendell Holmes_

The following is said to be a description of Louisa May Alcott at the age of fifteen, written by herself and published in her book called _Little Women_. She is supposed to be _Jo_, and her three sisters were the other _little women_.

Jo was very tall, thin and brown, and reminded one of a colt, for she never seemed to know what to do with her long limbs, which were very much in the way. She had a decided mouth, a comical nose, and sharp grey eyes which appeared to see everything, and were by turns fierce or funny or thoughtful. Her long, thick hair was her one beauty, but it was usually bundled into a net to be out of her way. Round shoulders had Jo, and big hands and feet, a fly-away look to her clothes, and the uncomfortable appearance of a girl who was rapidly shooting up into a woman and didn't like it.

Louisa May Alcott was born November 29th, 1832, in Germantown, Pennsylvania. Her father was Amos Bronson Alcott, a remarkable man, known as a philosopher and educator. His views of education differed from those of most people of his time, though many of his ideas are highly thought of to-day.

He became an important member of that circle of great men of Concord known as Transcendentalists, and he counted Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry D. Thoreau among his closest friends.

Miss Alcott's mother was the daughter of Col. Joseph May of Boston and the sister of the Rev. Samuel J. May, a noted anti-slavery leader. Mrs. Alcott was a quiet, unassuming woman, intellectual in her tastes, and accustomed from her childhood to the companionship of cultured people. Although an excellent writer, both in prose and verse, her home and her children were always her first thought. She herself never became publicly known, but her influence may be traced in the lives and works of her brilliant daughter and gifted husband. It is doubtful whether either could have achieved success without her guidance and sympathy.

Thus Louisa came into the world blessed with a heritage of culture and intellect. Her disposition was sunny and cheerful. Upon one occasion, when scarcely able to speak so as to be understood, she suddenly exclaimed at the breakfast table, "I lub everybody in dis whole world!"—an utterance that gives the keynote to her character and nature.

When she was about two years of age, her parents removed to Boston, where Mr. Alcott opened a school. The journey was made by sea. Louisa liked steam-travel so well that she undertook to investigate it thoroughly. To the alarm of her parents, she disappeared, being found after a search in the engine room, sublimely unconscious of soiled clothes, and deeply interested in the machinery.

Her father believed in play as an important means of education, so Louisa and her sister were encouraged in their games. Her doll was to her a real, live baby, to be dressed and undressed regularly, punished when naughty, praised and rewarded when good. She made hats and gowns for it, pretended it was ill, put it to bed, and sent for the doctor, just as any other normal little girl does.

The family cat also came in for its share of attention at the hands of Louisa. No one was allowed to abuse or torment pussy, but the children might "play baby" with her, and rock her to sleep; or they might play that she was sick and that she died, and then attend her funeral.

All this sort of thing Mr. Alcott called "imitation," and at a time when many good parents looked disapprovingly on children's sports, Mr. Alcott placed them in his system of education. These plays were so real to Louisa that she never forgot her joy in them, and years afterward she gave them out delightfully to other children in her stories.

At seven years of age she began, under her father's direction, a daily journal. She would write down the little happenings of her life, her opinions on current events, on books she read, and the conversations she heard. This was good training for the future writer, developing the power of accurate thought and of clear and charming expression.

In 1840, it became evident to Mr. Alcott that he could not remain in Boston. His views on religion and education were so much in advance of the people about him that his school suffered. Concord had long attracted the Alcott family, not only because it was the home of Emerson and others of high intellectual attainments, but because it offered a simple life and rural surroundings. And so it came that the family removed there, occupying a small house known as the Hosmer Cottage, about a mile from Mr. Emerson's home.

At that time there were three Alcott children: Anna, nine years of age, Louisa, eight, and Elizabeth, five years. A boy, born in Boston, died early. A fourth girl, named Abby May, was born in Hosmer Cottage. These four sisters lived a happy life at Concord, although the family had a hard struggle with poverty; for Mr. Alcott, always a poor business man, had lost the little he had in trying to form a model colony, called Fruitlands.

But all were devoted to one another. The children made merry over misfortune, and wooed good luck by refusing to be discouraged. They were always ready to help others, notwithstanding their own poverty. Once, at their mother's suggestion, they carried their breakfast to a starving family, and at another time they contributed their entire dinner to a neighbor who had been caught unprepared when distinguished guests arrived unexpectedly.

Mr. Alcott first attempted to earn his living by working in the fields for his neighbors, and by cultivating his own acre of ground; but this work being uncongenial, he soon drifted into his true sphere—that of writing and lecturing. He supervised the instruction of all his children, but becoming convinced of Louisa's exceptional ability, he took sole charge of her education, and except for two brief periods she was never permitted to attend school.

He was a peculiar man, this Mr. Alcott. One of his methods of guiding his children was to write letters to them instead of talking. The talks they might forget, he said, but the letters they could keep and read over frequently. Louisa had one letter from him on _Conscience_, which helped to mold her whole life.

Mrs. Alcott, too, would sometimes write to Louisa, giving her some advice or calling her attention to a fault or undesirable habit. On Louisa's tenth birthday her mother wrote her as follows:

DEAR DAUGHTER:

Your tenth birthday has arrived. May it be a happy one, and on each returning birthday may you feel new strength and resolution to be gentle with sisters, obedient to parents, loving to every one, and happy in yourself.

I give you the pencil case I promised, for I have observed that you are fond of writing, and wish to encourage the habit. Go on trying, dear, and each day it will be easier to be and do good. You must help yourself, for the cause of your little troubles is in yourself; and patience and courage only will make you what mother prays to see you, a good and happy girl.

To another letter, received on her eleventh birthday, Louisa replied by writing these verses:

I hope that soon, dear mother.
You and I may be
In the quiet room my fancy
Has so often made for thee—

The pleasant sunny chamber,
The cushioned easy-chair,
The book laid for your reading,
The vase of flowers fair;

The desk beside the window
When the sun shines warm and bright,
And there in ease and quiet
The promised book you write

While I sit close behind you,
Content at last to see
That you can rest, dear mother,
And I can cherish thee.

Louisa very early took upon herself the task of building up the family fortunes. When only fifteen, she began teaching school in a barn. Among her pupils were the children of Mr. Emerson. At this same period we find her writing fairy stories which she sent out to various editors. The editors promptly published these stories, but they sent her no money for them. But money she must have, so, besides her teaching, this enterprising girl took in sewing, which brought her little, but was better than writing stories for nothing! Louisa's intellect and ability did not make her vain; she was not ashamed to do any kind of honorable work.

Since the father proved a failure in supporting the family, Mrs. Alcott tried to earn something by keeping an intelligence office as an agent for the Overseers of the Poor. One day a gentleman called who wanted "an agreeable companion" for his father and sister. The companion would be expected to do light housework, he said, but she would be kindly treated.

Mrs. Alcott could think of no one to fill the position. Then Louisa said, "Mother, why couldn't I go?"

She did go, remained two months, and was treated very unkindly, being obliged to do the drudgery of the entire household. After returning home, she wrote a story that had a large sale, entitled _How I Went out to Service_. Surely Louisa Alcott had the ability to make the best of things, and to turn trials into blessings.

At nineteen she developed great interest in the theatre and straightway decided to become an actress. During her childhood she had written plays which her sister Anna and a few other children acted, to the amusement of the elder members of the family. Now she dramatized her book, _Rival Prima Donnas_, and prevailed upon a theatrical manager to produce it. The man who had her play in charge, however, neglected to fulfil his part of the bargain, and meanwhile, Louisa's ardor for the theatre cooled off.

By the time she was twenty-one, Miss Alcott was fairly launched as an author. Two years later she published a book, entitled _Flower Fables_, receiving from its sale the astonishing sum of thirty-two dollars. Then her work began to be accepted by the _Atlantic Monthly_ and by other magazines of good standing.

It was very difficult for her to write in Concord, where she continually saw so much to be done at home. When a book was in process of writing she would go to Boston, hire a quiet room, and shut herself in until the work was completed. Then she would return to Concord to rest, "tired, hungry and cross," as she expressed it. While in Boston she worked cruelly hard, often writing fourteen hours out of the twenty-four. Worn out in body, she would grow discouraged and lose hope, wondering if she would ever be able to earn enough money to support her parents.

A dear and good friend of hers was the Reverend Theodore Parker. At his home the tired, anxious girl was certain to receive encouragement and cheer. There she met Emerson, Sumner, Garrison, Julia Ward Howe, and other eminent men and women of the time. A few years before her death she wrote to a friend:

Theodore Parker and Ralph Emerson have done much to help me see that one can shape life best by trying to build up a strong and noble character through good books, wise people's society, and by taking an interest in all the reforms that help the world.

While in Boston Miss Alcott found time to go to teach in an evening Charity School. In her diary we find these jottings:

I'll help, as I am helped, if I can.

Mother says no one is so poor that he can't do a little for some one poorer yet.

At twenty-five years of age, Louisa Alcott was receiving not over five, six, or ten dollars for her stories. This would hardly support herself, to say nothing of the family. Writing might be continued, but sewing and teaching could not be dropped.

In 1861, when the Civil War broke out, her natural love of action as well as her patriotism caused her to offer her services as nurse. In December, 1862, she went to Washington where she was given a post in the Union Hospital at Georgetown. The Alcott family had been full of courage until it was time for her to depart. Then all broke down. Louisa herself felt she was taking her life in her hands and that she might never come back.

She said, "Shall I stay, Mother?"

"No, no, go! and the Lord be with you," replied her mother, bravely smiling, and waving good-bye with a wet handkerchief. So Louisa departed, depressed in spirits and with forebodings of trouble.

She found the hospital small, poorly ventilated, and crowded with patients. Her heart was equal to the task, but her strength was not.

In her diary, she tells us the events of a day:

Up at six, dress by gas light, run through my ward and throw up the windows, though the men grumble and shiver; but the air is bad enough to breed a pestilence. Poke up the fire, add blankets, joke, coax, command; but continue to open doors and windows as if life depended upon it.

Till noon I trot, trot, giving out rations, cutting up food for helpless boys, washing faces, teaching my attendants how beds are made, or floors are swept, dressing wounds, dusting tables, sewing bandages, keeping my tray tidy, rushing up and down after pillows, bed-linen, sponges, books, and directions till it seems I would joyfully pay all I possess for fifteen minutes' rest.

When dinner is over, some sleep, many read, and others want letters written. This I like to do, for they put in such odd things. The answering of letters from friends after some one has died is the saddest and hardest duty a nurse has to do.

After six weeks of nursing Miss Alcott fell seriously ill with typhoid-pneumonia.

As she refused to leave her duties, a friend sent word of her condition to her father, who came to the hospital and took her back with him to Concord. It was months before she recovered sufficiently even to continue her literary work, and never again was she robust in health. She writes: "I was never ill before I went to the hospital, and I have never been well since."

Her letters written home while she was nursing in Georgetown contained very graphic and accurate descriptions of hospital life. At the suggestion of her mother and sisters, Miss Alcott revised and added to these letters, making a book which she called _Hospital Sketches_. This book met with instant success, and a part of the success was money.

After that, all was easy. There came requests from magazine editors offering from two to three hundred dollars for serials. Her place in the literary field being now an assured thing, her natural fondness for children led her to writing for them.

The series comprising _Little Women_, _Jo's Boys_, and _Little Men_; together with _An Old Fashioned Girl_, _Eight Cousins_, _Rose in Bloom_, _Under the Lilacs_, _Jack and Jill_, and many others, are books dear to the hearts of all children. Editions of all these books were published in England, and in several other European countries where translations had been made of them,—all of which brought in large royalties for the author.

What happiness it must have given her to make her family independent, and to be able to travel! Twice she visited Europe, the first time as companion to an invalid woman, and a second time, after she had earned enough to pay her own expenses.

Miss Alcott never married. When about twenty-five years of age, an offer of marriage came to her which most young women would have considered very flattering. But she did not love her suitor, and on her mother's advice, refused him, thus being saved from that worst of conditions—a loveless union.

This first offer was not the last Miss Alcott received and declined. Matrimony, she said, had no charms for her! She loved her family, and her literary work. Above all, she loved her freedom. Her health was not benefited by her second trip to Europe; excessive work had been too great a strain upon her, and her father's failing health demanded her constant care.

In 1877 Mrs. Alcott died, and in the autumn of 1882 Mr. Alcott had a stroke of paralysis. From this he never fully recovered. Louisa was his constant nurse, and it gave her great happiness to be able to gratify his every wish. About this time Orchard House, which had been the family home for twenty-five years, was sold, and the family went to live with Mrs. Pratt, the eldest daughter.

Hoping that an entire change of air and scene might help her father, Miss Alcott rented a fine house in Louisburg Square, Boston, to which she had him removed. Here she showed him every attention, until her own health became so impaired that she was obliged to go to the home of Dr. Lawrence, at Roxbury, for medical care.

A few days before her death, she was taken to see her dying father. Shortly after her visit he passed away, and three days later she followed him. Born on her father's birthday, she died on the day he was buried, March 6, 1888.

All her life Louisa Alcott labored to make others happy, and she is still reaping her harvest of love the world over.

FRANCES E. WILLARD

(1839-1898)

"There is a woman at the beginning of all great things."

—_Alphonse de Lamartine_

It was not until 1873 that the vast amount of drunkenness in our country attracted the attention of the women of America.

A crusade was formed against it in the West, and this led in 1874 to the foundation of the Women's Christian Temperance Union. Frances Elizabeth Willard was offered the position of president, an honor she then declined, preferring to work in the ranks; but four years later she yielded to the universal demand, and accepted the chairmanship of this great movement.

This able woman was born at Churchville, very near Rochester, N. Y., on September 28, 1839. Her father, of English descent, was a man of intellectual force, brave, God-fearing; her mother, a woman of strong religious feeling, great courage, and of fine mental equipment. Frances inherited the best qualities of both parents. When she was two years of age, the family removed to Oberlin, Ohio, and about five years later to Janesville, Wisconsin, then almost a wilderness. Here they lived the simple, hard life of pioneers. Frances was at first taught by her mother and a governess; afterward, she and her younger sister entered the Northwestern College at Evanston, from which Frances was graduated.

Mr. Willard removed to Evanston in order to be near his daughters while they were in college, and in 1858 built a house there. Here the younger daughter died, and later Mr. Willard, but Frances and her mother continued to make it their home, even after the death of the only son. Frances named it Rest Cottage, and here she returned each year of her busy life to spend two months with the mother whom she had christened St. Courageous.

Idleness was an impossibility for Frances Willard. After her graduation she taught in a little district school, and from 1858 until 1868 continued the work of teaching in various schools and colleges. In 1868 she went to Europe and spent two years in travel and study. Upon her return she was elected President of the Evanston College for Women, being the first woman in the world to hold such a position. Two years later, when the college became a part of the Northwestern University, Miss Willard became Dean of the Women's College, but as some of her views conflicted with those of the President, she soon resigned the position.

It was about this time that the women of Ohio began fighting the liquor traffic. To use Mrs. Livermore's words, "Frances Willard caught the spirit of the Woman's Crusade and believed herself called of God to take up the temperance cause as her life work."

Every one, even her mother, opposed her, but feeling herself called to the work she gave to it all her energies of heart and soul.

When Miss Willard became President of the Women's Christian Temperance Union in 1879, the yearly income of the Union was only twelve hundred dollars. The movement was too new and too strange to command much understanding or sympathy from the public; the work, so far, had been done without system. Frances Willard at once began to put the machinery in order: she organized bodies of workers and lecturers; she instituted relief work and educative centers; and the numbers of these she constantly increased.

Perhaps Miss Willard's greatest moral asset was the power of winning followers. Many, many women rallied enthusiastically to her support and helped her to carry out her plans. To zeal and intelligence she added charming manners and eloquence. As a leader her ability was marvelous. Love came to her from all sides because love went out from her to everybody.

Her own love of the work was so great that for years she labored without a salary, for the Union had hard struggles to live even after Miss Willard undertook the leadership of it. But with or without salary, never did she spare herself.

It is said that during the first two years of her work she delivered on an average one speech a day on temperance and other reforms. She visited every town in the United States of over ten thousand inhabitants and most of those above five thousand.

The next step in Miss Willard's progress was a very great one; no less a thing than the organization of a World's Women's Christian Temperance Union! Yes, this courageous and enterprising woman actually planned to carry her crusade against strong drink into every corner of the globe. At the Columbian Exposition in Chicago in 1893 she was chosen Chairman of the World's Temperance Convention.

Meanwhile, Lady Henry Somerset, a charming and brilliant Englishwoman who had been working in her own country to secure the same reforms Miss Willard was pushing forward in America, came to this country. It was her first visit—made, she said, less to see America than to see Miss Willard, and learn from her the principle upon which she had founded the marvelous organization.

These two noble women became devoted friends, and when, in the autumn of 1892, Lady Henry again came to America to attend a National Convention at Denver, she persuaded Miss Willard to return with her to England. Our great temperance leader had a fine reception from the English people, and won all hearts by her gentleness and earnestness, as well as by her remarkable gift of oratory.

Four years after this, the World's Women's Christian Temperance Union held a Convention in London. Every country in the civilized world sent delegates to this meeting, over which Miss Willard and Lady Somerset presided. These indefatigable world-workers had secured a petition of seven million names. It encircled the entire hall of the Convention, and besides lay in large rolls on the platform. This petition asked of all governments to have the sale of intoxicating liquors and of opium restricted. But, in spite of the seven million signatures and an enormous enthusiasm, the sale of liquors and drugs went on as before. Yet something was accomplished: a great increase of sympathy in public opinion.

In addition to all these activities Miss Willard was much engaged in literary work. She acted as editor on various papers and magazines; also she wrote several books, _Nineteen Beautiful Years_, _Glimpses of Fifty Years_, _Woman and Temperance_, being the best known.

When the White Cross and White Shield movements for the promotion of social purity were formed, Miss Willard, as leader, did a glorious work. Under the white flag of the Women's Christian Temperance Union with its famous motto, _For God, for Home and Native Land_, she brought together, to work as sisters, the women of the South and the North.

Miss Willard was always dignified, earnest, and inspiring, but when talking on the subject so dear to her heart she grew eloquent. As a presiding officer, justice, tact, grace, and quick repartee made her the ideal platform speaker, though, perhaps, courage may be called her chief characteristic.

In later years, although suffering from ill health, she yet kept cheerfully at work and actually presided over the Convention of 1897. This, however, proved too great a strain, and on February 18, 1898, at the Empire Hotel, New York City, she died. Her body died, but her soul "goes marching on."

WOMEN IN PIONEER LIFE AND ON THE BATTLE-FIELD

"If we wish to know the political and moral condition of a State, we must ask what rank women hold in it. Their influence embraces the whole of life."

—_Aimé Martin_

The first foot that pressed Plymouth Rock was that of Mary Chilton, a fair and delicate maiden, and there followed her eighteen women who had accompanied their husbands on the Mayflower to the bleak, unknown shore of Massachusetts. Truly the "spindle side" of the Puritan stock deserves great admiration and respect.