l doings
in Newport and in Boston, but more with the great events of the time. To
me the experience was valuable in that I found myself brought nearer in
sympathy to the general public, and helped to a better understanding of
its needs and demands.

It was in the days now spoken of that I first saw Edwin Booth. Dr. Howe
and I betook ourselves to the Boston Theatre one rainy evening,
expecting to see nothing more than an ordinary performance. The play was
"Richelieu," and we had seen but little of Mr. Booth's part in it before
we turned to each other and said, "This is the real thing." In every
word, in every gesture, the touch of genius made itself felt. A little
later I saw him in "Hamlet," and was even more astonished and delighted.
While he was still completing this his first engagement in Boston, I
received a letter from his manager, proposing that I should write a play
for Mr. Booth. My first drama, though not a success, had made me
somewhat known to theatrical people. I had been made painfully aware of
its defects, and desired nothing more than to profit by the lesson of
experience in producing something that should deserve entire
approbation. It was therefore with a good hope of success that I
undertook to write the play. Mr. Booth himself called upon me, in
pursuance of his request. The favorable impression which he had made
upon me was not lessened by a nearer view. I found him modest,
intelligent, and above all genuine,--the man as worthy of admiration as
the artist. Although I had seen Mr. Booth in a variety of characters, I
could only think of representing him as Hippolytus, a beautiful youth,
of heroic type, enamored of a high ideal. This was the part which I
desired to create for him. I undertook the composition without much
delay, and devoted to it the months of one summer's sojourn at Lawton's
Valley.

This lovely little estate had come to us almost fortuitously. George
William Curtis, writing of the Newport of forty years ago, gives a
character sketch of one Alfred Smith, a well-known real estate agent,
who managed to entrap strangers in his gig, and drove about with them,
often succeeding in making them purchasers of some bit of property in
the sale of which he had a personal interest. In the summer of 1852 my
husband became one of his victims. I say this because Dr. Howe made the
purchase without much deliberation. In fact, he could hardly have told
any one why he made it. The farm was a very poor o