Diary of Annie Adams Fields

Wednesday. Dr Holmes & Governor Musgrave were added to the above company, with the exception of Julian in the morning at breakfast. Dr Holmes has seldom been more delightful—so courteous & kind—so full of conversation and deference.

Monday Dec. 9th Left home at 8 a.m. for New York. The day was clear and cold, the journey somewhat long but on the whole extremely agreeable. We only had each other to plague or amuse as the case might be and we had the new Xmas story of Dickens & Wilkie Collins (called No Thoroughfare) to read...

Tuesday. Saw Mrs Botta looking worn and weary, the cares of this world, if not the deceitfulness of riches, have destroyed and demolished forever much fine energy there. I don’t say this could have been prevented. I don’t understand it, for from some points of view she is certainly not a...

Wednesday. Laura Johnson & her two children came in before breakfast was over. Then Cyrus Field & a troop of kind agreeable friends—at last however we found a moment to run out and catch a walk.

Thursday. Snowing hard all day. Who should come in upon us but Ole Bull & his son. This was like a sunny apparition & now he is gone I cannot feel as if it were true. He was very well and looking as when we saw him last. Dr Dewey too came in through all the storm. He stayed a long time and if it...

Friday. James Parton, Ole Bull & his son came to breakfast. I have seldom heard anything more touching than Mr Parton’s confession of love for his little adopted child. He came to speak of it in connection with the story of “little Emily” he had heard the night before. Life contains...

Saturday morning. We were to have returned home today but the trains have been delayed; the weather is very cold, the snow blows—so here we remain.

Sunday. Another week has gone—we are again at home in our dear little nook by the Charles and tonight the lover of Christmas comes to have dinner with us. We had a merry time last Sunday and after we had separated the Hotel must needs take fire—to be sure I had been packing & was in my first...

Saturday. Dec 28 [sic]. Monday another Dickens night. Dear Mr Longfellow & his family came in as usual. The audience was a warm one & pleased him. Only three gentlemen, L., J. & Prof. Holmes, went to see him afterward. I sat with the ladies.

Tuesday. Put up the Xmas tree. When Mr Longfellow dropped in, in the evening I carried him up to see it. How proud I felt at the praise he gave it. We all went to hear “The Carol” Ah! how beautiful it was! How everybody felt it. How the whole house rose and cheered! How grateful we felt...

Wednesday. Grand Christmas Day. Mild and dull outside, jolly and smart inside, 12 at dinner, 35 to the tree & for the Evening. Howells brought his little “Winny” & I never saw anything more weird and amusing. “Did Santa Claus live here always” she asked. Santa Claus outdid himself on the...

Thursday. A little languid after yesterday. Drove half out of town with mother & made a few visits. Still soft and autumn-like both air & sky.

Friday. Passed quietly—met Mr Higginson at J.’s office—talked long. J. at home in the evening. It was really a novelty & we read together & had a delicious time.

Saturday. Warm & clear. People can’t help making calls. Had an hour’s quiet in the morning for a rarity & wrote a note to Mr Dickens.

Beautiful Sunday morning. Went to the church & arranged flowers staying for service. The sexton came up for a talk as I stood putting a few last touches to the branches in the font. “How much time have I,” I said, thinking he might be in a hurry to clear away. “Plenty o’time...

Dec. 31st The year goes out clear and cold. The moon was marvellously bright last night and everytime I woke there she was with her attendant star looking freshly in upon us sleepy mortals in her eternal unwearied way.

January 3d The year has given out before this little book and many incidents are unrecorded. Il suffit. The weather is warm and clear more like Spring than Jan. 3. and the walking less than knee deep with slosh.

Saturday night. Jan. 4th All in readiness. Mr. Dickens arrived punctually with Mr. Osgood at half past nine—hot supper was soon in order and we put ourselves at it. The dear “chief” was in the best of good humor in spite of a cold which hangs about him and stuffs up head and throat only...

Sunday morning—bright and clear—wonderfully dry and refreshing after the dark of yesterday. Breakfasted at 10 A.M. Osgood came too—the chief was punctual and gay except for the cold—seems pleased with his quarters.

Wednesday January 8th 12. A.M.

Saturday. Jan 11th How the month slips away. We think of Dickens a great deal & find ourselves talking of him in a kind of unconscious way to each other, wondering what he is doing now or startling ourselves & each other with some reminiscence from the Reading. I don’t think anybody ever gave...

Jany 13th The days go on bright and cold. We have fallen into our old ways very much, reading & writing o’ mornings, out for a walk, home for an hour or two and a chance guest before dinner. Sometimes “Delay” that treacherous “half sister” of “Raw Haste” interferes with quite so...

Jan. 14th J. not very well—sky overclouded. Nevertheless we wrote to Dickens today wh. put us both in good spirits for the time.

January 16th Fanny Kemble read The Merchant of Venice in Boston last night. The old way of losing her breath when she appeared as if totally overcome by the audience. We could not doubt that she felt her return deeply & sincerely but--however the feeling was undoubtedly real if short-lived and...

January 18th Reading the Life of Col. Wilder Dwight. A most inspiring and pathetic history written by his mother. A story of our times which should be read through all time so long as no need to study bright examples and that is as long as men endure. Mr R.H. Dana said of him that he had “a...