In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

74 & first employed; the federal census in the United States recorded her as forty-eight in 1910 and fifty-six in 1920.(Federal Census,New York City,1910,and Greenwich, Conn., 1920; Ellen DuBois, ed., “Spanning Two Centuries: The Autobiography of Nora Stanton Barney,” History Workshop Journal, no. 22 [Autumn 1986]: 136.) 12. Stanton married into the Berry family of Paris. Marguerite Marie Berry Stanton (1857–1951),mentioned below,married Theodore Stanton in 1881.Their three children did not accompany him to the funeral.(Genealogical notes of Robert and Francis Stanton,Mazamet,France; Blatch and Lutz,Challenging Years,55–58.See also Papers 4.) ••••••••• 26 • Harriot Stanton Blatch to ECS Basingstoke, [England] June 24 [1896] Dear Mother: Just two week ago today was Helen’s last day with us here. We knew she was ill, but all thought there were weeks if not months before her, and I felt she would recover. It was not till Thursday moring about 6.30 that we saw a change in her. In an hour the little spirit had slipped away. I had never seen any on die before, and in her case there was nothing but a sweet gliding away. There was not a struggle, she breathed more & more slowly and gently, and had a sweet smile on her face. She said about seven “I feel so comfortable.” The doctor here said the trouble was probably consumption of the bowels, but for Nora’s sake I could not let such a question rest on probabilities .A leading doctor from the Royal College of Physicians came down & made a careful examination. There was no consumption, no suggestion of tubercle anywhere.Every organ was sound.There was slight,very slight chronic inflamation of the bowels,the remnant of the cold she caught in the bowels when I left her with the first trained nurse at Ilkley to come home & get Nora ready for school. On Saturday June 13, we had the last sweet service for Helen. Theodore came. The little white coffin was lined with blue, one of her favourite colours. It stood in her big white perambulator which she gone out in all this winter. The green-house was thrown open to the drawing-room. In the middle of the green-house, which had been bright all the spring with flowers stood the carriage with its precious burden. The wreaths sent were 14 june 1896 ^ 75 tied to the wheels,making it look like a chariot of flowers.Round the coffin were great branches of white labernum,and on the top were lovely coppercoloured roses and quantities of maidenhair fern. Nora & Dolly1 in white sat at the foot of the perambulator, and Theodore & Harry & I, & the rest of the children were in the green-house too.The Unitarian clergyman from London, Mr. Farrington, an American, read some beautiful poems, Esther Bright played on the violin, and a friend, who is a concert singer & who knew & loved Helen, sang exquisitely. After our pretty service, Alice & the nurse took Helen in an open carriage with the beautiful June sun shining down upon her and drove to the Crematory near Woking. Theodore, Harry, Mrs. Savile & I went by train. I am having made a silver vase for the ashes, and when I die I want dear little Helen’s dust mingled with mine & buried. Your letter & Maggie’s have just been given me by Harry. No, there is no comfort except in the sympathy & love given by friends at such a crisis. But I am not broken down by my loss. Life and death are equal mysteries. There seems a sweet calm about all the things connected with her. I love to be in the rooms where she was, & touch and handle the things she liked. She seems to be there. I have much to tell you, and will soon write again. With fond love, U H. Y ALS, Clara B. Colby Papers, Archives Division, WHi. 1. Dolly was the nickname of Katherine Mary Conran (c. 1887–?), the only daughter of Agnes and Edward Conran. (Blatch family tree, copy from Derek Conran, Oxford, England.) ••••••••• 27 • SBA to Harriot Stanton Blatch 1630—Folsom Street San Francisco Cal. July 3, 1896— My Dear Hattie The Card telling of the great sorrow that has come to your dear mother’s heart—reached me here at Mrs Sargent’s yesterday—the same morning papers brought word of the death of the other extreme of life—Harret Beecher Stowe’s death1 —the last a glad welcome to all her friend’s—because her work...

Share