her or son went forth, followed by weeping, to be brought
back for bitterer sorrow. The work of the women in providing comforts
for the soldiers was unremitting. In organizing and conducting the great
bazaars, which were held in furtherance of this object, many of these
women found a new scope for their activities, and developed abilities
hitherto unsuspected by themselves.

Even in gay Newport there were sad reverberations of the strife; and I
shall never forget an afternoon on which I drove into town with my son,
by this time a lad of fourteen, and found the main street lined with
carriages, and the carriages filled with white-faced people, intent on I
knew not what. Meeting a friend, I asked, "Why are these people here?
What are they waiting for, and why do they look as they do?"

"They are waiting for the mail. Don't you know that we have had a
dreadful reverse?" Alas! this was the second battle of Bull Run. I have
made some record of it in a poem entitled "The Flag," which I dare
mention here because Mr. Emerson, on hearing it, said to me, "I like the
architecture of that poem."

Prominent among the helpers called out by the war was our noble war
governor, John Albion Andrew. My first acquaintance with him was formed
in the early days of the Free-Soil Party, of which he and my husband
were leading members. This organization, if I remember rightly, grew out
of an earlier one which marked the very beginning of a new movement. Its
members were spoken of as "young Whigs," and its principles were
friendship for the negro and opposition to war, which at that time was
particularly directed against the Mexican war. It was as a young Whig
that Dr. Howe consented to become a candidate for a seat in the Congress
of the United States. The development of a pro-slavery policy on the
part of our government, and the intention made evident of not only
maintaining but also extending the area of slavery, soon gave to the new
party a very serious _raison d'etre_, and under its influence the young
Whigs became Free Soilers.[3]

[Footnote 3: In the days here spoken of, the Cochituate water was first
brought into Boston. I was asked one day to furnish a toast for a
temperance festival, and felt moved to send the following: "Free
soil,--free water,--free grace," which was well received.]

Some of these gentlemen came often to our house, and among them I soon
learned to distinguish Mr. Andrew. As time went on, he became a familiar
fri