Chapter VII: Children's Diaries

THE Alcott children were brought up to think for themselves, to reflect, and to give expression to their thoughts. Never laughed at, they were not afraid to speak or write of what was in their minds. Each kept a diary, and no incident that concerned the little girls was too trivial for mention in the record of the day. These incidents, collected, give a more comprehensive view of the Alcotts as a family than do the father's voluminous journals.

When Anna was ten, she gravely explains under date of April 13, 1841:

Father was too unwell to come down stairs and mother ironed,
Louisa and I helped a little while. I wrote my journal and a
journal for Louisa as she thought she could not write well
enough. I had no other lessons than that. We watched a little
spider and gave it some water to drink. In the afternoon mother
read loud the story of the good aunt or part of it while we
sewed on the clean clothes I mended up the holes and Louisa and
Lizzy sewed on a sheet. In the evening we played mother lets us
play in the evening. We went to bed soon.

This sewing bee recalls the long evenings in the March home, described in "Little Women," when the four girls and the mother sewed dutifully on sheets for Aunt March, dividing seams into countries, discussing Europe, Asia, Africa, and America as they stitched.

When she was twelve, Anna's literary aspirations sought a vent in attempted poetry. Later she collaborated with Louisa in writing the "Comic Tragedies." Anna's confidante and comrade, Louisa, was frequently the victim of these poetic effusions, her reception of which gives quite a line on her ardent temperament. This entry in Anna's journal for April 23, 1843, is eloquent:

This morning I rose pretty early--After breakfast I read and
wrote stories. In the afternoon I wrote some letters and the
following one to Louisa:

Louisa dear
With love sincere
Accept this little gift from me
It is with pleasure
I send this treasure
And with it send much love to thee.

Sister dear
Never fear
God will help you if you try.
Do not despair
But always care
To be good and love to try.

In the evening I read in a book called 'Stories on the
Lord's-prayer.' I talked with Louisa after I went to bed and she
pinched me on my leg.

Two or three years later Anna writes:

Monday.

Mother went to Boston and Louisa and I cleaned house all day. I
love order above all things and I take great pleasure in seeing
all neat about the house.

Tuesday.

I worked hard till 2 o'clock when we all met to sew while mother
read aloud from "Miss Bremers Brothers and Sister's." It is most
beautiful such a happy family. I think Miss Bremer would make a
lovely mother the mothers in her books are so sweet and she has
beautiful idear's about family's. I love to read natural
stories.

Wednesday 30th.

We rose very early and eat breakfast. I think it is a dreadful
thing to grow old and not be able to fly about, but then I
suppose I shall not care about flying when I grow older, still
it is horrid to think about being an old woman all wrinkled and
blind. I wish I could keep young forever. I should love to live
among all those I love and be with them all the time.

Reading was a part of the daily routine in the Alcott household, and Anna's taste for German recalls vividly certain episodes between Meg and John Brooks in "Little Women."

Friday 18th.

I read one of Krummacher's parables in German. I think they are
very beautiful, the language is so elegant. I love to hear
beautiful words and these stories are told so simply and are
full of such sweet thought. I found a great many which have
never been translated and I intend to try myself to translate
them. I think it is the pleasantest thing I do to read German.
It is such a splendid language. I mean Elizabeth shall learn to
read it, she will enjoy it so much.

Saturday 19th.

In the afternoon I sewed and Louisa read me a very silly story
called 'The Golden Cup.' I think there is a great deal of
nonsense written now a days, the papers are full of silly
stories.

Sunday 20th.

I have been reading lately a very beautiful book given me by my
mother. It is "Characteristics of Women" by Mrs. Jameson. I like
it very much. It is a description of Shakespear's Heroines,
Portia is my favorite, she was so noble and I liked the Trial
scene better than any of Shakespears that I ever read. I think
this part is beautiful.

'Let music sound while he doth make his choice;
Then if he love he make a swan like end
Fading in music.'

I think this was a beautiful idea.

I passed a pleasant morning in school, translating one of
Krummacher's beautiful parables. I find great pleasure in this.
I like German better than I do French. I want much to study
Italian. I have tried myself several times but cannot manage it
without help. I think I should be very happy if I could go to
school. I think about it most all the time and when I am in bed
I imagine myself in Boston going to Miss Peabody's school with
other girls and know that I am learning something. And I think
I lead rather too solitary a life. I love to see people. Mother
read in the afternoon from Miss Sedgwick's Letters. It was about
the Germans. She says they are a very cheerful people and though
poor yet they always have a happy smile and cheerful face. That
their manners are beautiful. They are so kind and simple. I know
I should love them, for I like everything German, except their
food, which I think must be horrid, greasy cabbage and sour
bread. That seems bad. I should think they are so fond of
beautiful things; music, poetry and flowers, that they would not
like such stuff.

September, 1845.
Friday 1st.

I walked before breakfast, the sun was bright and there was a
cool wind. The lane was full of beautiful flowers and the grass
was green and fresh. I had a lovely walk and gathered a bunch of
goldenrod, spirian and gerandia. Everything was so beautiful
that all my unhappy thoughts of last night flew away. I
sometimes have strange feelings, a sort of longing after
something I don't know what it is. I have a great many wishes. I
spent the day in the usual manner, sewing and studying. In the
evening Louisa and I walked through the lane and talked about
how we should like to live and dress and imagined all kinds of
beautiful things.

Sunday 3rd.

I sewed all day and mother read from "Miss Sedgwick's Letters."
I will write a piece of poetry, as I have nothing very pleasant
to write about:

"Oh when thy heart is full of fears
And the way is dim to Heaven
When the sorrow and the sin of years
Peace from thy soul has driven
Then through the mist of falling tears
Look up and be forgiven.

"And then rise up and sin no more
And from thy dark ways flee
Let Virtue o'er thy appetites
Have full and perfect mastery
And the kindly ones that hover o'er
Will ever strengthen thee.

"And though thou art helpless and forlorn
Let not thy heart's peace go
And though the riches of this world are gone
And thy lot is care and woe
Faint not, but journey ever on
True wealth is not below.

"Oh, falter not but still look up
Let Patience be thy guide
Bless the rod and take the cup
And trustfully abide
Let not temptation vanquish thee
And the Father will provide."

Louisa composed these lines, which I think are beautiful. She is
a beautiful girl and writes as good poetry as Lucretia Davidson,
about whom so much has been written. I think she will write
_something great one of these days_. As for me I am perfect in
nothing. I have no genius. I know a little of music, a little of
French, German and Drawing, but none of them well. I have a
foolish wish to be something _great_ and I shall probably spend my
life in a kitchen and die in the poor-house. I want to be Jenny
Lind or Mrs. Seguin and I can't and so I cry. Here is another of
Louisa's pieces to mother.

"God comfort thee dear mother,
For sorrow sad and deep
Is lying heavy on thy heart
And this hath made thee weep.

"There is a Father o'er us, mother,
Who orders for the best
And peace shall come ere long, mother,
And dwell within thy breast.

"Then let us journey onward, mother,
And trustfully abide,
The coming forth of good or ill
Whatever may betide."

Helpfulness was encouraged in the Alcott household; habits of industry were carefully fostered. The Alcott children worked when they worked, played when they played, but wasted hours were unknown. They were taught to make the most of every day. When Anna was seventeen she wrote in her diary:

August, 1848.
Thursday 17th.

Lizzy and I are making plans for spending our days usefully.
Here is mine.

Plan.

Rise at half past 4, bathe, dress and walk till half past 5.

Dress and bathe the children.

Breakfast at 7. Work till 9. School till 12. Work till 2.

Sew till 4. Practice till 5.

Hear Lizzy recite German and French till 6. Supper.

This will keep me pretty busy, but I find I accomplish so much
more when I have a plan and certain times for certain things. I
never can do things without order. I like to have something
planned for every moment of the day, so that when I get up in
the morning I may know what to do. I wish I could be learned.

An entry in Louisa's diary during the Fruitlands period gives this insight into one of her average days, when a child of eleven:

I rose at five, and after breakfast washed the dishes and then
helped mother work. I took care of May in the afternoon. In the
evening I made some pretty things for my dolly. Father and Mr.
Lane had a talk and father asked us if we saw any reason for us
to separate. Mother wanted to, she is so tired. I like it, but
not the school part or Mr. L.

Note, too, that when it came to a conference concerning family affairs, the father asked the advice of his eleven-year-old daughter, instead of following the more customary method of withholding from her the family confidence and deferring discussion of plans until the children had gone to bed.

"Know Thyself," was ever the aim of Bronson Alcott in the training of his children, and Mr. Lane at Fruitlands followed this same line of mental development. This is one of his sample lessons which Louisa Alcott has copied into her journal:

Sample of our Lessons

"What virtues do you wish more of," asked Mr. L. I answer:

Patience Love Silence
Obedience Generosity Perseverance
Industry Respect Self-denial

"What vices less of?"

Idleness Wilfulness Vanity
Impatience Impudence Pride
Selfishness Activity Love of cats

In this same lesson comes the twelve-year-old Louisa's explanation of the difference between faith and hope:

Faith can believe without seeing; hope is not sure, but tries
to have faith when it desires.

Louisa's love of nature, her trained habits of thought, her poetic imagination, and her keen appreciation of beauty are indicated in this entry in her journal, written at Fruitlands in 1843 or 1844, when she was a child of ten or eleven:

I wrote in my imagination book, and enjoyed it very much. Life
is pleasanter than it used to be, and I don't care about dying
any more. Had a splendid run, and got a box of cones to burn.
Sat and heard the pines sing a long time. Had good dreams, and
woke now and then to think, and watch the moon. I had a
pleasant time with my mind, for it was happy.