[Boston—Thursday, 24 January 1867]
Thursday. The papers of last night brought the news of N.P. Willis’ death and that he was to be buried in Boston from St. Paul’s church today. Early this morning a note came from Mrs Willis asking Mr Fields to see Dr Howe and Edmund Quincy & ask them to be pall-bearer with himself & Col. Trimble. Fortunately last night J. had seen the announcement and before going to Longfellow’s made up his mind to ask Longfellow & Lowell to come in to assist at the ceremony of their brother-author; he had also sent to Prof. Holmes before the note came from Mrs Willis. He then sent immediately for the others whom she mentioned and for a quantity of exquisite flowers. All his plans turned out as he had arranged and hoped and the poet’s grave was attended by the noblest America had to offer. The dead face was not exposed but the people pressed forward to take a sprig from the coffin in memory of one who had strewn many a flower of thought on the hard way of their lives. There are some to speak hardly of Willis but usually the awe of death ennobles his memory to the grateful world of his appreciators. Refrain! refrain! we long to say to the others who would carp. “If you have tears, shed them on the poet’s grave.” There had been previously an exquisite and touching service at Idlewild where Octavius Frothingham did all a man could do inspired by the occasion & the loveliness of the day and scene. The service here would have seemed cold as stone except for the gracious poets who surrounded the body & prevented one thought of chill lack of sympathy to penetrate the flowers with which it was covered. I could not restrain my tears when I remembered a few years, only two, and the same company had borne Hawthorne’s body to its burial,—which, which, of that beloved and worshiped few was next to [be] borne by the weeping remnant!!
J. went to the grave and reached home only in season to be warmed and take food when one of his partners came to consult him upon business. This interview lasted somewhat late into the evening but he was engaged to go to the Thursday Club at Tom Appleton’s so he went though he unfortunately lost Mr A.’s account of the passage of his yacht Alice from America to England last summer. Mr Snell spoke on Architecture, especially of the domes of St. Peter and the Duomo of Florence. And Mr Bouvé of Trilobites.
The meeting at Longfellow’s on Wednesday was delightful as usual with much laughter after the work. A Mr Bone of Cleaveland Ohio was the only stranger. Mr Norton was absent. Mr Bone gave most humorous accounts of the misbehavior of some of the self-vaunting militia men during the war. How they ran away and had their obituaries written and by and by turned up safe and sound. He mentioned one case in particular by name at which Mr Howells began to laugh immediately and said he was the author of the touching obituary of the rascal in question.
Miss Elizabeth Peabody sent for me to hear a lecture of hers upon the Gods of Greece, for a very particular reason said the note. So I went though I did not wish to, and discovered the reason to be that she wished it printed in the “Atlantic.” As Mr Felton’s lectures are just being launched which are perfect in that direction, I could give those as a reason why not, otherwise I might have been rather non-plussed for a reply. As it was, the reason softened the denial. But think what corners people drive me to,—as if it were not enough to pester my husband they prick him again through me.
