Diary of Annie Adams Fields

Sunday April 12th In the afternoon Mr. Dickens came in to our room to tell us as he said a piece of dreadful news!!! Lo! “Mrs Bigg” was to arrive shortly. Could anything be more wretched. Mrs Marrett the housekeeper had just been in to tell him, “And whatever you do, Mr Dickens, said Mrs....

Wednesday Morning April 15th The anniversary of Abraham Lincoln’s death three years ago. How significant our position as a country is today and how dark that period was to us all. I have seen nobody this morning but I believe in many many hearts all over the country the day is quietly...

Friday April 17. Weather excessively warm—sky often overcast.

April 18th Saturday. Mr. Dickens has a badly sprained foot. We like our rooms at this hotel—47—is the number. Last night was Marigold & Gamp for the last time. He threw in a few touches for our amusement and a great deal of vigor into the whole. Afterward we took supper together when he told...

Sunday April 19th Last night the great New York Press Dinner came off. It was a close squeeze with Mr. Dickens to get there at all. He had been taken lame the night before his foot becoming badly swollen and painful. In spite of a skilful physician he grew worse and worse every hour and when the...

Monday April 20th that it was unjust and had been taken off.

Tuesday. I find it very difficult today to write at all. Mr. Dickens is on his bed and has been unable to rise in spite of efforts all day long. Mr Morgan’s dinner when his lady-love was to meet Mr. Dickens comes off tonight. We were all to go together and thus wind up the visit. But alas! we...

Wednesday April 22d Rose at six this morning sleep being out of the question. I must confess to sitting down in my night-dress in a flood of tears. When I remember all Dickens has been, has become to us in these short short months and that I can never see him again under the same conditions,...

Friday April 24th At home! I find in the pain of parting I have written more than I knew at the time, above. But I could do nothing else that sad morning,—that wretched day—but foresee and afterward rehearse our loss and our tears were hardly dried at all until the golden sunset shone out to...

April 25th A snow-storm. Jamie was up at five o’clock, very fresh and so unspeakably grateful and happy for our house which never seemed more quiet or more restful. We have been almost absolutely undisturbed since our return although yesterday providentially being bright I was able to walk to...

Sunday April 26th It seems ages—long years—since the “dear chief” and good Dolby left us, yet when we count, it is only four days—only four since we were so torn and worn by grief—we both feel older. Even now the shell of his presence is upon us, his voice is in our ears. I fear we...

Monday morning. By night as we lie down we pray for him and in the morning I awake dreaming that he has just come to say “good bye”—I see that sharp painful look dart up his brow, like a lightning of grief. I feel his parting kiss on my cheek and see my arms stretched out to hold...

Tuesday. The first day of confirmed sunshine. They will not have much I fear before Saturday when we shall feel they are at least in London. How can we wait for letters till the 2nd of May? Dear J. and I have everything to be grateful for in our home and with Ole Bull, the Musical Festival and...

April 29th Last night Ole Bull played to us. His concert was a grand success. There is no man living who can bring from the violin such deep utterances, though many, many more profound musicians. I did not think any thing could interest us so much and yet I know Divine Love is forever near and...

May 1st On the bed! Yesterday was a summer like day & I suppose the prostration of the sudden change of weather and perhaps the exhaustion consequent on excitement may have united to put me on my back. In no other way can I explain such a sudden submergence. Lucy Larcom stayed until 2 o’clk...

May 2d Again, a cold rain—a lady came in this morning who in the course of her talk told me the “Russia” was telegraphed from Queenstown Thursday night. I can’t quite believe that yet I awoke this morning feeling that today was his day of joy. It rains here!!

Sunday Morning. It is quite true. The Steamer “Russia” reached Queenstown Thursday night and Saturday Morning came to Liverpool. This morning therefore dear C.D. is at Gad’s Hill and the good Dolby with his family at Ross. Yesterday as I felt sure C.D. was in London. What hours for him!!...

May 4th A bright sun at length and fresh West Wind but we are both of us ill with colds and have scarcely sense enough to recognize anything. We still remember in our uprisings and downsittings the happiness of those wanderers who are at length at rest in their own homes.

Tuesday May 5th Musical Festival opens today but I am too ill with a cold to go. I must remain housed although summer smiles outside.

Friday May 8th We have both been at home many days ill with cold. This morning when we hoped to get out into clear sunshine we have a snow-storm and Jamie lies with headache on his bed from punch which seems to have relieved the cold somewhat however. The dear dear boy has snatches of sleep...

Saturday. Yesterday having written the above in the quiet hour of a rainy morning before breakfast I thought the whole day would glide calmly over. But how little we can tell. Laura Johnson appeared from Staten Island to breakfast and pass the day. The Dana’s from Cambridge dropped in. Madme...

Sunday Morning. Fresh and soft and clear. Laura passed part of yesterday here and dined here. Today we have the dear quiet of home once more. “J.” is busy among his books. Finished Roland; rather glad of it too.

May 13th Cold east wind blowing all the morning which ripened into a delicious rainy afternoon. The vessels lay off in the bay and it was quiet enough to hear the Spring rain down among the clover. Read Owen Meredith’s two new volumes of poems and enjoyed the idle quiet for it is that...

May 14th First letter from dear Dickens!!! Written on board the “Russia” which was bowling along magnificently but in a fashion too which made it almost impossible to write legibly. He was better and full of love to us both.

May 15th The rain it raineth every day! But the wind just now swung round privily towards the West and I see hope in the future. I am doing quietly all I can to forward the work for the Freedman but I can truly say I never dreaded nor disliked any work so much as this kind of Fair work. However...