Letter from Louisa Maria Sewall to Elizabeth Whittier, November 13, 1834
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Portland, (Maine,) Nov. 13. 1834.
I am much obliged dear Elizabeth for the lines you sent me. They are admirable; just what is wanted: but do you not think that hideous looking figure above them, almost enough to frighten compassion from the breast of any one. I should think the Abolitionist might represent the negro on a less brute like and revolting aspect.
You do not know how much I was gratified to hear, that you and Harriet sometimes think of me. I was afraid you would prove merely summer friends, and that the approaching winter would find me quite forgotten. How I wish I could be with you; but father thinks it is not possible at present. I shall probably go to Danvers one of these days, and then I will persuade him to carry me to Haverhill. I hope it will not be long before we shall see you here. Our city is not as pleasant in the winter, as in the summer; but you will find warm hearts within doors. I think it is our friends, not scenery, or situation, which attach us to a place, and I shall consider it but a poor compliment, if you remain at home after this. I dare say you have scolded your scholars so by this time, they will be glad of a month’s vacation, and you must at least spend that with us, if you think you can enjoy yourself among such a stupid set. Lucy Ellen quite envies me your acquaintance, and regrets that she was absent when you were here. I saw a poem in Mrs. Child’s Oasis by Elizabeth Whittier. I wonder who she is. She must be a great genius — don’t you think so?
We have had a number of Abolitionists to visit us from the East and West since you left. I attended the Anti Slavery convention at Augusta. It was exceedingly interesting; but I shall not enter into particulars as Mr. Thompson will tell you all about it. He is very communicative, agreeable, brilliant and eloquent, but he has not so large a share of my heart as Mr. May, though probably he will make more converts to our cause. You must ask him to sing for you, you can not but like his singing. Mr. Phelps improves upon acquaintance. He has become quite domesticated among us, and we look for his return as we would for a brother’s. He is one that sifts every thing thouroughly. The older portion of the community are best pleased with him, the younger with Mr. Thompson.
We have had bad news from Boston. Mr. Garrison contemplates giving up his paper. He has written us so twice before, and his friends here have subscribed towards continuing it. I am afraid, he will obtain but little now, as they begin to say he is not a financier. They ought not to expect a man of his mind to think much about money matters. The downfall of this paper would seem to me like the downfall of Abolition. I hope his friends will not let it sing, our opponents would exult so. I never wanted money so much in my life.
Little Mary’s teacher has given up her school, and she is obliged to go with the colored children. She lives at a great distance from us, and I do not see her so often as I used to. I feel very anxious about her, as I am afraid she is learning bad habits. Her mother told me she whipped her the other day for telling a falsehood. How I do dislike corporeal punishment: I dare say it was the dread of it, which made her tell the lie. She begins to fear the lash more than self-condemnation.
Are you troubled with the headache now? Do try the graham bread — it is a sovereign cure-all.
I saw Erastus Brooks when he was in Portland, he said many fine things about you, but I will not make you blush by repeating them.
Do not let Harriett Minott forget me. I hear from her sometimes by Sarah Ann Dow. If she cannot afford me a letter, she might send me some kind words.
Do write me soon, and tell me how the Anti Slavery cause progresses in H—. Any thing, which concerns you, will be interesting to your friend,
Louisa Maria.