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Charles E. Stowe, Harriet Beecher Stowe compiled from her letters and journals by her son Charles Edward Stowe 8 0 Browse Search
James Parton, Horace Greeley, T. W. Higginson, J. S. C. Abbott, E. M. Hoppin, William Winter, Theodore Tilton, Fanny Fern, Grace Greenwood, Mrs. E. C. Stanton, Women of the age; being natives of the lives and deeds of the most prominent women of the present gentlemen 4 0 Browse Search
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier) 4 0 Browse Search
Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing) 2 0 Browse Search
Frank Preston Stearns, Cambridge Sketches 2 0 Browse Search
Laura E. Richards, Maud Howe, Florence Howe Hall, Julia Ward Howe, 1819-1910, in two volumes, with portraits and other illustrations: volume 1 2 0 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Harvard Memorial Biographies 2 0 Browse Search
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Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing), Stowe, Harriet Elizabeth Beecher 1811-1896 (search)
Stowe, Harriet Elizabeth Beecher 1811-1896 Author; born in Litchfield, Conn., June 14, Harriet Elizabeth Beecher Stowe. 1811; sister of Henry Ward Beecher and wife of Rev. Calvin E. Stowe; was educated at Hartford, Conn., and taught school there and at Cincinnati. She married at the latter place when twenty-two years old, and afterwards lived in Andover, Hartford, and Brunswick, Me., also spending much time in Florida. Her most famous work, Uncle Tom's cabin, was first published in the Washington National era in 1851. This book is credited with having a most powerful bearing on the Emancipation Proclamation of President Lincoln. Among her other successful works were Dred; The minister's Wooing; My wife and I; We and our neighbors; Old town folks; Poganuc people; Agnes of Sorrento; Pink and White tyranny, etc. She died in Hartford, Conn., July 1, 1896.
Frank Preston Stearns, Cambridge Sketches, C. P. Cranch. (search)
und. From Marseilles George W. Curtis proceeded to Egypt, where he wrote his well known book of Nile travels, while Cranch set out for Rome to perfect his art. He studied there at a night-school, painting in water colors from nude models and arrangements of drapery, but not taking lessons from any regular instructor. He never applied himself much to figure-painting, however. He sold his paintings chiefly to American travellers, and when the Revolution broke out in 1848, he returned to Sorrento, where his second child, Mrs. Leonora Scott, was born. His first child was born the year previous, in Rome, but afterwards died. In 1851, he returned to New York and Fishkill, but not meeting with such good appreciation there as he had in Italy, he went to Europe again in the autumn of 1853, and resided in Paris. One cause of this may have been the unfriendliness of his brother-in-law, who was a leading art critic in New York City, and who disliked Cranch on account of his wife, and neve
Charles E. Stowe, Harriet Beecher Stowe compiled from her letters and journals by her son Charles Edward Stowe, Chapter 21: closing scenes, 1870-1889. (search)
warm heart of the man Beneath the creed-bound Puritan, And taught the kinship of the love Of man below and God above; To her whose vigorous pencil-strokes Sketched into life her Oldtown Folks, Whose fireside stories, grave or gay, In quaint Sam Lawson's vagrant way, With Old New England's flavor rife, Waifs from her rude idyllic life, Are racy as the legends old By Chaucer or Boccaccio told; To her who keeps, through change of place And time, her native strength and grace, Alike where warm Sorrento smiles, Or where, by birchen-shaded isles Whose summer winds have shivered o'er The icy drift of Labrador, She lifts to light the priceless Pearl Of Harpswell's angel-beckoned girl. To her at threescore years and ten Be tributes of the tongue and pen, Be honor, praise, and heart thanks given, The loves of earth, the hopes of heaven! Ah, dearer than the praise that stirs The air to-day, our love is hers! She needs no guaranty of fame Whose own is linked with Freedom's name. Long ages after
Charles E. Stowe, Harriet Beecher Stowe compiled from her letters and journals by her son Charles Edward Stowe, Index. (search)
9; holds floor of Congress fourteen days, 510; his religious life and trust, 511; died without seeing dawn of liberty, 511; life and letters of, 510. Agnes of Sorrento, first draft of, 374; date of, 490; Whittier's praise of, 503. Alabama planter, savage attack of, on H. B. S., 187. Albert, Prince, Mrs. Stowe's letter to, 25; influence of these struggles depicted in The minister's Wooing, 25. Florence, Mrs. Stowe's winter in, 349. Florida, winter home in Mandarin, 401; like Sorrento, 463; wonderful growth of nature, 468; how H. B. S.'s house was built, 469; her happy life in, 474; longings for, 482; her enjoyment of happy life of the freedme Mather's, a mine of wealth to H. B. S., 10; Prof. Stowe's interest in, 427. Maine law, curiosity about in England, 229. Mandarin, Mrs. Stowe at, 403; like Sorrento, 463; how her house was built, 469; her happy out-door life in, relieved from domestic care, 474; longings for home at, 492; freedmen's happy life in South, 506
James Parton, Horace Greeley, T. W. Higginson, J. S. C. Abbott, E. M. Hoppin, William Winter, Theodore Tilton, Fanny Fern, Grace Greenwood, Mrs. E. C. Stanton, Women of the age; being natives of the lives and deeds of the most prominent women of the present gentlemen, Grace Greenwood-Mrs. Lippincott. (search)
m Naples on the 18th of April:-- We drove to Naples this morning over a road, which, for its varied scenery and picturesque views, seems to me only comparable with the Cornice leading to Genoa. It was with heartfelt reluctance that we left Sorrento, which must ever seem to me one of the loveliest places on earth. O pride and darling of this delicious shore,--like a young festive queen, rose-crowned, sitting in the shade of oranges and myrtles, watched over with visible tenderness by the olive-clad hills, gently caressed and sung to by the capricious sea,--bright, balmy, bewitching Sorrento, adieu! But the finest piece of writing in the volume is a bravura on the Roman Catholic Religion. It occurs in a long and splendid description of High Mass, at St. Peter's on Christmas morning:-- To my eyes, the beauty and gorgeousness of the scene grew most fitting and holy; with the incense floating to me from the altar, I seemed to breathe in a subtle, subduing spirit; and to th
Laura E. Richards, Maud Howe, Florence Howe Hall, Julia Ward Howe, 1819-1910, in two volumes, with portraits and other illustrations: volume 1, Chapter 15: mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord 1908-1910; aet. 89-91 (search)
especially when they are faithful and incorruptible, apropos of aspersions cast on Roosevelt and Taft. Mrs. Ward read a very violent attack upon some public man of a hundred or more years ago. He was quoted as a monster of tyranny and injustice. His name was George Washington. April 8.... My prayer for this Easter is that I may not waste the inspiration of spring.... In these days came another real sorrow to her. April 10. To-day brings the sad news of Marion Crawford's death at Sorrento. His departure seems to have been a peaceful one. He comforted his family and had his daughter Eleanor read Plato's Dialogues to him. Was unconscious at the last. Poor dear Marion! The end, in his case, comes early. His father was, I think, in the early forties when he died of a cancer behind the eye which caused blindness. He, Thomas Crawford, had a long and very distressing illness. Crawford had been very dear to her, ever since the days when, a radiant schoolboy, he came and wen
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Harvard Memorial Biographies, 1854. (search)
e constantly desired an opportunity of acting on a larger and more glorious field. I have often said, writes General Mosby, that, of all the Federal commanders opposed to me, I had the highest respect for Colonel Lowell, both as an officer and a gentleman. In the spring of 1863 Colonel Lowell became engaged to Josephine, daughter of Francis G. Shaw, Esq., of Staten Island, and sister to Colonel Shaw. To her most of his later letters are addressed. June, 1863. Your Capri and Sorrento have brought back my Campagna and my Jungfrau and my Paestum, and again the season is la gioventu dell anno, and I think of breezy Veii and sunny Pisa and the stone-pines of the Villa Pamfili Doria. Of course it is right to wish that some time we may go there. Of course the remembrance of such places and the hope of revisiting them makes one take the all in the day's work more bravely. It is a homesickness which is healthy for the soul; but we do not own ourselves, and have no right to e
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Personal Poems (search)
simple record I have pondered o'er With deep and quiet joy. And hence this scene, in sunset glory warm,— Its woods around, Its still stream winding on in light and shade, Its soft, green meadows and its upland glade,— To me is holy ground. And dearer far than haunts where Genius keeps His vigils still; Than that where Avon's son of song is laid, Or Vaucluse hallowed by its Petrarch's shade, Or Virgil's laurelled hill. To the gray walls of fallen Paraclete, To Juliet's urn, Fair Arno and Sorrento's orange-grove, Where Tasso sang, let young Romance and Love Like brother pilgrims turn. But here a deeper and serener charm To all is given; And blessed memories of the faithful dead O'er wood and vale and meadow-stream have shed The holy hues of Heaven! 1843. Gone. another hand is beckoning us, Another call is given; And glows once more with Angel-steps The path which reaches Heaven. Our young and gentle friend, whose smile Made brighter summer hours, Amid the frosts of autumn ti
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Occasional Poems (search)
warm heart of the man Beneath the creed-bound Puritan, And taught the kinship of the love Of man below and God above; To her whose vigorous pencil-strokes Sketched into life her Oldtown Folks; Whose fireside stories, grave or gay, In quaint Sam Lawson's vagrant way, With old New England's flavor rife, Waifs from her rude idyllic life, Are racy as the legends old By Chaucer or Boccaccio told; To her who keeps, through change of place And time, her native strength and grace, Alike where warm Sorrento smiles, Or where, by birchen-shaded isles, Whose summer winds have shivered o'er The icy drift of Labrador, She lifts to light the priceless Pearl Of Harpswell's angel-beckoned girl! To her at threescore years and ten Be tributes of the tongue and pen; Be honor, praise, and heart-thanks given, The loves of earth, the hopes of heaven! Ah, dearer than the praise that stirs The air to-day, our love is hers! She needs no guaranty of fame Whose own is linked with Freedom's name. Long ages aft