John Wallace Hutchinson.

Story of the Hutchinsons (tribe of Jesse) (Volume 2) online

. (page 16 of 36)
Online LibraryJohn Wallace HutchinsonStory of the Hutchinsons (tribe of Jesse) (Volume 2) → online text (page 16 of 36)
Font size
QR-code for this ebook

men and Harrison men hurralnng all day. I was kept
supplied with tickets by New York, INIinnesota and
Massachusetts delegates. O. D. Hutchinson, Asa's son,
Avas at the convention, and I s})ent much of the time
with him. At last Harrison was renominated, and after
witnessing this ceremony I took the train for Hutchin-
son. Had a good time with my nepliews and giand-
m^phews, tliough the thermometer stood at 98° some of
the time. After a few days spent here, 1 started on my
return, taking a- look at tlie buildings of the coming
World's Fair in Chicago, as I passed tlu'ough the city.
T arrived home June !2<Ith. ^Vithin a week I had re-
])laced the flagstaff on the rock, which had been injured,
bv another.


On Wednesday, .Vugust od, the statne of Hon. John
Parker Hale, presented to the State of New flanipshire
by his son-in-hiw, Senator William E. Chandler, was
unveiled at ('oiicord. The statue stands in the State-
house yard, and the exercises occurred from a stand at
its right. I was invited to participate, and it was an
unmitigated [ilcasurc to thus do honor to the memory
of our old friend. To my gratiticatioii, Sistei' Althy
and Ludlow surprised me by being present, and Fied-
erick Douglass was also there. At one point in the
exercises I sang the *■• Old Granite State,'' Abby, Lud-
low and Douglass joining me. This was the first time in
our long acquaintance that he had ever sung with me in
public. The words to which we sung the song were from
a draft in the handwriting of Hon. Mason W. Tappan,
dated Bradford, N. H., September 13, 1845, and were as
follows :

"Tune, 'Old Granite State,' as sung by the Hutcliinsons.

" From each mountain top and valley,
And from every street and alley,
Let the friends of freedom rally,

In tlie Old Granite State —
To sustain tlie friend of freedom,
To sustain the friend of freedom,

In his cDurtift for tlie riglit.

"Come and let us swell tlie chorus
While victory hovers o'er us —
Tyrants all shall quail Itefore us.

In the Old Granite State.
It sliall ne'er he said by any
It shall ne'er be sai<l by any,

'J'hat N\\v ilaiiipsliire's sons are slaves!

"John I'arker Hale of Dover,

John Parker Hale of Dover,

In tlie Ohl (iranite State,


On thf ri.ulit of in'titidii,
On the rijilit of i)etitii)n,
Like a triR'-heartfi! freeman,

Gave his vote against the 'Gag!'

" And now wlien otliers falter,
Burn strange fire on Freedom's altar,.
Tamely creep, or meanly falter,

In the Old Granite State ;

Still on justice firmly planted.

Still on justice firmly planted,

lie will face the storm undaunted

In the Old Granite State."

But before this song Avas sung, I luid sung my own
tribute to the nienior}- of Hale, and I also gave reniinis-
cences of the distinguished statesman. The song com-
posed for tlie occasion l)y Walter Kittredge and myself,
was as follows :

sou of Xe\v Ilamjjshire, thy fame cannot fade,
In the hearts of our people thine image inlaid.
This statue in grandeur now points to the sky,
A lesson is teaching to each passer-by : —
A lesson to battle with life day by day,
And courage to comjuer its foes by the way.

■\Ve must stand like our granite, and moving, be strong ;
Let our glory live ever in story and song.

In the hearts of our nation, as indu'dded in gold.

Our Rogers and Hale, and hundreds untold

Of brave hearts who stood for justice and right, —

And in ever\' reform its battle we'll fight.

New Hampshire stands foremost and mighty in fame ;

She has left a fair recoril and glorious name.

Gone are slavery's days; the o])])resse(l tuies are free,
Forever to rest under iil)erly'^ iwv.
Thehravi' men wjio stood fortli in mai'tial array
Are failing; like leaves they are ]ia»ing away.

But llu'y stood like our granite, and in hattle were strong,
Let their glory live ever in story and >ong.


He whose statue to-day in liomir we raise
Bared his breast tn the teini)rst in Freeiloni's dark days,
And while thnnigh tlie wliole worM trutli and justice prevail
Shall be loved and be honored the memory of Hale.

Tlien be true to our banner and lil)erty strong,
That our glory live ever in story and sung.

I also sang several verses composed for the event
l)y that veteran free-soiler, George W. Putnam. The
speaking on this occasion was as fine as is often
heard — -Rev. Dr. Alonzo PI. Quint, Hon. George A.
Ramsdell, Senator Gliandler, Governor Tuttle, Colonel
Daniel Hall, the orator of the day, Hon. Galnsha A.
Grow, Hon. George S. Bout well, Frederick Douglass,
and others. Douglass caused gi'eat merriment hy say-
ing he supposed he was oidy present to lend color to
the occasion, and though entirely unprepared, made
one of the great speeches of the day.

In August I attended the Purgatory picnic at Mont
Vernon, the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary cele-
bration at Gloucester, and visited Portland and vicinity.

On September 7, John G. Whittier died, at the home
of his friend, Sarah Ablw Gove, Hampton Falls, N. H.
At once I Avrote to Al)l)y, and on Saturday, the 10th,
with Ludlow, we attended his funeral at his old home
in Amesbury. The day was pleasant, and in order to
acconnnodate the large number avIio attended, the sim-
ple ceremonies of the Friends' Society were htdd in the
garden of the estate, being conducted by William O.
Newhall, of Lynn, a minister of the society. Of
course the Friends (1(» not usually have singing in
their exercises, but it seemed to l)e the general desire
that the Hutchinsons, old friends as they were of the
Quaker poet, should sing, and we for our })art deemed it
a privilege beyond estimation. We sang " Lay Him

192 THE mTCIIINSON familV.

Low," and '' We are almost ]i(inu\"' song-.s tliat I liatl
snug at the meinorial of l'liiHi[)s, ilie woi'ds of which
were jjartly eomposed ])v Al)l)y and myself. Ludlow
sano- oil the choriLses. It Avas the last appearance of
Al>l)y in public, and if I were to liaA^e chosen, I could
not possil)ly luive selected a more fitting place or song
in which our voices should blend for the last time. We
did not realize the deep significance of those \\(jrds.

" Wo aru almost lionie, to join the angc4 hand."

We thought only of that braA'e, loving, gentle, pure
and gifted singer lying cold in death. But we sang, as
we always tried to sing, with feeling, harmony and
deep meaning. There wei'e many references to the
incident, some of which I quote.

S. T. Pickard, a family connection of Whittier. and
his executor, wrote the story in his paper, the Portldud
Transcript, as follows:

" It was a happy tliought of Mr. F. J. Garrison, son of Mr. Wliittier's
old friend, William Lloyd Garrison, to hold the funeral services of the
poet in the garden at Ameshury which the windows of his study and
chamber overlook. Seats were arranged around a myrtle-carpeted jjlat
under the 'Garden room ' windows, where a luxuriant hydrangea bush,
heavy with richly tinted blossoms held a central place. There were
seats for several hundreds under the fruit trees on tiiree sides of this
square, and standing room for thousands besides. Hoys clambered into
the branches of the trees, and their bare feet hanging over the lieads of
the assembled multitude could not fail to suggest that it was the author
of the ' Barefoot Boy,' to whose memory they were paying tribute.

"The casket was placed in the little parlor, tlie one room in the
house that has remaineil imclianged during tlie entire occupancy of the
Whittii'r family. The portraits of tiie poet's mother and sister Eliza-
beth look down with tender benignancy from the walls. Here also is
a Longfellow portrait, and one jiainted for Whittier in his early man-
hood. The Rogers group, ))resenting Garrison, Beecher and Whittier,"
with a slave girl, are on a stand in the corner. Here the loved and vi'U-
erated face that was soon to be hidden forever from view, wearing tiie
expression of luaveiily peace that deeply impressed all who looked


upon it, wiis upturneil to the tearful naze of iieiglibors and friemls, for
several liours preeeding the servieet*.

" The venerable William (). Ni'wliall, of Lynn, who was for many
years at the head of the Ni'W Enyland Yearly Aleeting- of Friends,
took chariie of the serviees. and made a few brief remarks in the way
of eulogy and exhortation, lie was followed by Asa ('. Tuttle of
Dover and Dr. Allen II. Thomas of Baltimore. The poem SVt Last'
was reeited by the poet's (karly loved cousin, Gertrude W'hittier Cart-
land, of Newbiiryport. Mrs. James II. Chase, of Providence, reeitt'd the
poem, ' The Eternal Goodness.' Judge Des Brisay, of Bridgewater,
Xova Seotia, spoke brietly, and was followed by liw. Dr. D. T. Eiske.of
Newburyport, and Mrs. Caroline II. Dall, of Gloucester. The last
speaker was the banker-poet, ICdmund Clarence Stedman, of New
York, whose triliute was a gem of oratory, uttered with deeji feeling.

" As a fitting conclusion of the impressive ceremony there arose the
sweet voices of the Hutchinsons, which always had a charm for Whit-
tier. The only surviving members of the original quartet were present,
John W. Hutchinson, of Lynn, and ^Vbby Hutchinson Tatton, of New
York. Fifty years ago their voices thrilled the hearts of the Nortli, as
they sang the stirring lyrics of reform They set Whittier's stirring
verse to music and gave it wings. During the war John sang it in the
camps of the Union ai'my, and when military martinets would stop
him, Lincoln overnded them and allowed Whittier's voice to lie heard.
Now they canu' with heads silvered by age, i)Ut with voices still fidl of
the old melody, to sing at the grave of their friend. They were assisted
by Mr. Ludlow Patton, who has the voice and fciding of the family with
which he is allied. They sang 'Close his eyes, his work is done.'

"Mr. Whittier died at the early dawn of a lovely September day; it
was at- the close of a day equally perfect that his casket was lowered
to a bed of roses in a grave lined with ferns and golden-rod."

Aiiotlier paper said :

".\mong the interesting and toiudiing features of Whittier's funeral
was the singing by 'Sir. John W. Hutchinson and his sister, Mrs. Abby
Patton. In that great assemblage of earnest representative men and
women there were many who could recall the days in the old anti-slav-
ery conflict, when the Hutchinson family helped the cause along with
their stirring music ; and when the clear notes of John and Abby, all
now left of sixteen brothers and sisters, sounded on the still air of the
delightful autumnal day, it was easy to see how hearts all about were
stirred with tenderest emotion. That scene M'ill never be forgotten by
those who listened, for the music seemed to come from the ujijjcr air,
and the groat audience was spell-boimd. Those strains will be repro-


ducc'd l)y tlie phonograph of the soul of those who heard it while life
shall last, and rival the sweetest music that sliall sireet the ear in the
world bc^'ond. It was a fittinji and beautiful tribute to the memory of
the noble, departed poet."

A Awek after tlie Whittier funeral I went to Wash-
ington in company with Walter Kittredge, to attend
the national eiK'ani[)nient of the (Irand Army. Kit-
tredo-e had his sono-, '• Tentino- To-night " in a hand-
•somely hound gift-hook edition. We sang it together
on several occasions. ]Many copies of the song were
sold. It was well into Octoher when we returned.
The political campaign was on, and Mrs. Helen M.
Gougar and Rev. Sam. Small were doing valiant work
for the Prohihitionists of the Bay State. I fell into
line, attended rallies in Faneuil ILill and Tremont
Temple in Boston, in Lynn and elsewhere, singing for
temperance reform as op[)ortunity offered. Mrs.
Gougar was my guest at High Bock wlien she came to
Lynn to speak.

During the latter part of Octoher Al)hy and Ludlow
came from New York to Boston, making their head-
quarters at the United States Hotel. On Octoher 30tli
they came to High Rock, AhVw's last visit. '' Ahl)y
will not stay long in tliis world," my diary says. I lit-
tle realized,- however, how slioi't the time was. On
Wednesday, November 2(1, I diiu'd with them at their
liotel, and before I left we sang our (h'ar old English
farewell :

"Come let us part with liizhtsonie lieart.
Nor breath one eluding' sigh,
To think that wing of rainbow ]ilunie
So soon slundd learn to tly.

"Then why not we as merry, merry be
Though tlie song lie the last?
Believing other days will eome
As bright as tliose just passed."


It was our last song, tlioiigli we diil ni»t kiin\\' it. On
the 20th, word came to me that Aljljy had Ijeeu .stricken
with paralysis. On the following day I left for New
York, and as soon as I arrived, was admitted to lier
bedside. The poor tongue could not articulate, hut
she smiled u[)on me in recognition. Two days later, on
Tlianksgiving Day, she died. Asa had died on Th;nd>:s-
giving Day, just six years before. On Saturday, Xo-
vemljer 2<i!th, funeral services were held at the house of
her ]iephe\v, Lucius 1). Hutchinson, on West 57th
Street, New York City. Her nephew b}' marriage,
Rev. Cornelius Patton, conducted the ceremonies.
Abby's friend, Mrs. .Vndei'son, sang two selections, and
at Abby's recjuest a year or two previous, I made a few
remarks and sang three songs, '' The Lord is my Shep-
herd,'" '• No Tear in Heaven," and " AVe are almost
Home.'" When slie wrote me, I res})onded that she
would be more likely to sing at my funeral, but if I
survived her, I would surely sing and speak. On the
29th, the bo<ly liaving been taken to Milford, X. H.,
final services were held there, in the Unitarian church.
Rev. Messrs. Rich and Pendleton were in charge, and
again I spoke and sang. There was a large attendance
of the I'cnniants of tlie once happy family, but of her
father's family I was alone. A sense of loneliness
came over me that I hope few of my readers will ever

Over the grave we sang again

'' For < ), we staiiil dii .rordaii's straml,
• »ur tVii'iiils art' ])as!;in,u- over."

I stayed tliat night with Kate Hutchinson Burney,
Judson's daughter, leturniiig to Lynn on tlie following
day. In two days 1 received another sununons. .\.l)el


Fordyee TTulcliinson, my oM neighbor and frinid of
boyliood da\s, tliud in Wallliiun. He was a brolluT to
Jerusha, Judson's wife Jlis fiiiu'ial occuiTed at ]\Iil-
ford the following- Monday, at tlie house of liis daugh-
ter, Mrs. Wallace. Again 1 sang, '• Xo Tear in Heaven,"'
and s[)oke to the assembly of my hope of a heavenly
meeting. As I rode through the cemetery, I saw the
o-rave of Sister A1)1)V, covered with green hemlock
boughs, and freshly came to me my overwiielming-
sense of loss, a sorrow tliat has returned with every
thought of her in the months that have passed. Tlie
joyous early days, the charming experiences of our con-
cert beginnings, the months spent in Europe, the stir-
ring scenes of anti-slavery days, the liundreds of happy
interview's scattered over the years since her marriage,
when we met at the old homestead, in New York, at
Orange, N. J., on High Rock, in Florida, California or
Washington — all of these come back and are often I'e-
viewed in memory when I think of the dearest, most
gifted, UK^st helpful sister it is often an unworthy man's
o-ood fortune to have. But trulv, niv loss is her gain,
and the gain of her brothers and sisters who have gone
before. And I shall soon meet her " over there."

In the middle of December, within a week of each
other, two memorial services were held for John G.
Whittier. The first was in Amesbury, and I made a few
remarks and sung an original song by -loseph W. Nye,
of Lynn, a native of Salisbury Point, and a life-long
friend of the poet. On the 21st, Haverhill lield her
memorial in the city hall. Elaborate preparations had
been made, and a large number of invitations had been
sent out. Hon. Thomas E. linrnham, mayor of the
city, presided. The extM-cises included a fine original
poem by Will M. Oarleton and an elo(|uent eulogy by


Echviii D. Mead, editor of the yeiv Enfihuul M<i;iazinr.
At the close of tlie eulog-y T was introdttced, and sung
^'Tlie Furnace IMast." Tlie memorial volume ])ul)lislied
b}' the eitv eouneil, speaks of the incident as folhnvs:

"After till' oraliiiii tlic flavor said : 'Before tlie " Auld Lang Sync"
shall be sung- that will elose these exercises, let lis jiatisc that \vc may
ask a qnesticin :

'""Who does not remember tlie tryinti' days wlien slavery had fasteneil
its fanii's iijion this ti-cc eouiitry, and tlie instrumentalities that con-
tributed to the ovcrtlirow (d' the monster evil ' Foremost in this wcirk
with voit'e and ]ien was Whittier. l!ut h^t us not foruot his codaboriM's
and personal friends, some of whom h'lid tlu'ir ])ri'scnce here to-day, and
when we welcome the veiU'rablc John \\ . Hutchinson, the last survivor
of that matchless family whose ])atriotic sonus did so much to hasten
the glorious cause, we wilcome tliem one and all. And for them he
will briefly respond in song.'

"When Mr. Hutchinson rose to respond, the scene was touching in
the extreme. A man he was on wlKtm the hand of time had been laid,
leaving its im]H-int in tiie snow-white locks that hung ab(jut his shoidders
and the jiatriarchal beard that lay upon his breast. More than three-
score and ten years had ])assed over his head; sisters and brothers, old
friends and associates, all had sung tlieir last songs, and he, old and
alone, stood there. His heavy brows still held their dark, strong shade,
as if to add lustre to the ket'ii, sharp eyes that, briglitiMied by the oc-
casion, flashed with the old-time hre ; his voice, weak with age, yet clear
and sweet, fell tijion Ins hearers as an echo from another age, a h'gacv
handed down from a crisis when right was struggling close-matclied
against wrong.

" He had come here to tune once more his lyre in honor of the dear
friend of his youth.

".\fter a few feeling remarks, in clear and melodious tones, he sung
with wonderful effect, ' Kin teste burg ist unser (jott.' "

That evening- 1 was a guest of the Haverhill I>oard of
Trade, and sung "Oue Ihtndred Years Hence," by re-
quest. Thus the sad year ended, and I commenced on
a new and in many respects hap[iier one, 181>->. It was
less marked by losses of loved friends, and was also
notable as the year of the World's Fair, which I enjoyed
to the full.

1U8 thl: iiuTciiixsoN famua'.

On the second day of Jaimaiv. Hattie Do\v, daughter
of Brotlier Zeidianiali, \\lii)se liome "was in ClncaLto,
visited me at High JJock. On the 10th J atleiuk-d the
fniu'ral of General Hutler, at Lowell. On the 2(Jili I
\\( lit lo the t'uueial of Bishop Phillips Brooks, in Boston.
On tlic lull of February there Avas a great camp-fire of
the (iraiid .Vrm}' at Faneuil Hall, in Boston. I made
a live-minute s})eeeh, and sung "The Furnace Blast."
On Febritary 28th I gave a lecture and concert at
Spi'ueer, ]\Iass. 1 gave the entertainment alone, singing
a miscellaneous programme. I was somewhat disap-
])ointed not to have the Bev. Samuel May, of Leicester,
my old anti-slaver}' co-laborer, present to preside. Li
his unavoidable absenee, Rev. E. Stuart Best, pastor of
the church in which the concert Avas given, presided.

Sitting by the open fire on the 5th of March, its
genial Avarmth so filled me Avith satisfaction that I
dropped into Aeise, as follows:

^ly housekeeper lias built a tire,

Just to meet my fond desire ;

Sucli service erowns my waning' life —

Almost equal to a wife.

The warmth of heart and burning wood

Beats hiu-h and flashes for my good.

j\Iy thoughts revert to boyhood days ;

AVe grouped around the cheerful blaze,

And friendship glowed for one another

^tingled with love for father and motlier.

On ]\Lxrch 10th I went to Lancaster, twenty-five miles
north of the White Mountains, in New Ihuiipshire, and
gave a concert in the Congregational Cluui-li. 1 stopped
several days with ]Mrs. Louisa Dow IJeiiton, daughter of
Neal Dow, in that place, and receiA'ed many kind atten-
tions Avhieh T recall A\'ith gratitude. On one day Ave
rotle in a sleigh across the Connecticut RiA'er and OA'er


the neighboring- hills. Tlie ^vinter view of the AVliite
Mountains from .this jjoint ^^"as nuignilieent. ^Irs. Ben-
ton had sent for nie the previous antuinn, l)nt the con-
cert was post[)one(l owing to the accidental death of her
hnshantl, lie having been the victim of a runaway acci-

On the 17th of April George M. Hutchinson was
killed by the cars at Charlemont. He was the son of
my l)rother Caleb. As the report first came to the pa-
pers, I was the victim, but it was soon corrected.

April 26th was a notable day. The Danvers Historical
Society held a commemorative meeting, in the honor of
old anti-slavery days, in the town hall. Of all the re-
unions of the Abolitionists in late years, this was the
most interesting. The toAvn was the birthplace and
liome of my ancestors ; it had its full share of the heroes
of anti-slavery days ; it had as president of its historical
society liev. A. P. Putnam, a man of just the cast of
mind to place the en)phasis on every salient point made
by the notable group of men and women who addressed
the meeting. He had the tact to know just who to in-
vite to speak, and just where to put him in. The pro-
ceedings of the meeting were published in an elal)orate
volume, of great historical value to every friend of the
cause of the slave. Dr. Putnam arranged with a pho-
tographer to take views of the group on the stage and
also of the audience. Among those present were
Winthrop Andrews, Rev. Peter Randolph, Rev. D. S.
AVhitney, George T. Downing. Ab.ier S. Mead, John ]\I.
hennox. Rev. Samuel May, Hon. Parker Pillsbury,
William Alley, Rev. Geo. W. Porter, D.D., Mrs. Abby
^Morton Diaz, Cornelius Wullington, J. M. W. Yerrin-
ton (the former pul)lisher of the Liberator)^ David
Mead, Hon. M. M. Fisher, George W. Putnam, Rev.


William II. Fisli, T^'wis Ford, jNIiss Sarah E. Hunt,
Mrs. Lncy Stone, William Llo^-d Garrison, Jr., Rev.
Aaron Portei', George B. Bartlett, Henr}' I>. BlaekAvell,
Mis.s Sarah II. Souiln\irk. INIr.s. Kate Tannalt Woods
and others. The proceedings lasted from one to half-
past six o'clock, and then speakers who were prepared
had to be omitted from the programme. My daughter
Viola and gi'anddanghter Kate were with me and joined
in singing the old emancipation melodies. In fact, ni}'
daughter, though still a 3'oung woman, was one of tlie
veterans, for this history shows that for several 3'ears
before the war she was singing these songs of freedom
with me.

The proceedings opened with prayer by Rev. William
H. Fish. President Putnam then said he had requested
the Hutchinsons to repeat some of the very words and
music that so tln'illed the old anti-slaver}' meetings for
so many years, and in so many places at home and
abroad, but that first I would sing a song I had es-
pecially prepared for the ot-casion, adapted to a tune of
ni}- own. He hoped I would j^reface it with a few re-
miniscences. To quote the report :

"Mr. Hutchinson then came forward and made the following remarks,
addressed particularly to his former associates, after whicli he sung
' Few, Faithful and True,' accomjtanied in the chorus by his daugliter,
Mrs. Viola Hutchinson Campbell, and his granddaughter, Miss Kate
Campbell. He said :

"' Dear Friends : This is an impressive occasion and a momentous
review. We bid you all a hearty welcome. To the few veterans whose
lives have dw indU'd to so short a s])an, let me say, we congratulate you
that one more ojjporlunity is offered that will yield sat'red remembrance
of joys we have tasted and of true friendshi])s we have experienced
throughout the many years during which we labored in the vineyard of
good-will to all mankind.

"'Your joys are full and our hearts are made glad this day, even
though it should chance to be the last. We nu'ct here upon ground
sacred to the memory of our ancestors, who, two hundred and tifty

KATK ]n' rcilINSdX CA.Ml'lJKLL— II.. 1:00)


years ap), scttU'd and cultivated tliis soil, (k'riving title from tliu
uborigiiu's, who had so recently vacated their corn fields and hunting
grounds. Here seven generations bi'aring the name of Hutchinson,

Online LibraryJohn Wallace HutchinsonStory of the Hutchinsons (tribe of Jesse) (Volume 2) → online text (page 16 of 36)