Lucy Larcom: Life, Letters, and Diary

by Daniel Dulany Addison

Norton. Mass., February 13, 1858.

To the Editor of the New York Tribune:

Sir,—Will you please say to “Old Nick” that he does not tell the truth. His statements regarding me, in your paper, February 10, are not correct. Lucy Larcom is not a “literary thiefess;” “Hannah Binding Shoes” was not written “five or six years,” but about four years since. I have only to blush that I wrote it, and that I sent it to the editor of the “Knickerbocker.”

The latter was done at a time when it seemed desirable for me to attempt writing for pecuniary profit,—a very ridiculous idea, of course,—and I enclosed the poem in a letter, intimating such a desire to that gentleman, and supposing that courtesy would suggest that the letter should be answered, or the poem returned. As neither of these things was done, I innocently considered it my own property, and sent it to “The Crayon,” as an original composition.

I hereby reclaim from “Old Nick,” my “stolen goods,” which he has inadvertently advertised.

Yours truly,Lucy Larcom.

She wrote rather a severe letter to the “most honorable Old Nick” himself, in which she says, “In my ignorance, I supposed that editors were as polite as other people, in such matters as answering letters, and acknowledging even small favors. I am sure I never would have sent you a poem, if I had supposed you would one day have accused me of stealing it, and I hereby promise with sincere penitence, never to do so again. I suppose I can hardly look for the courtesy of an explanation as public as your accusation has been.”

She also wrote an explanation to Mr. John Durand, the editor of “The Crayon.”

TO JOHN DURAND.

Norton, February 12, 1858.

Dear Mr. Durand,—“Hannah Binding Shoes” I may truly say is “a poor thing, sir, but mine own.” I should hardly have supposed that the identity of so humble an individual would be thought worth calling in question. The poem was written four years since, and was sent to the editor of the “Knickerbocker” in my own name, but as I received no acknowledgment from him, and have never seen a copy of the paper since, I supposed it either failed to reach him, or was not accepted. Was I not justifiable in sending it to you? I had no idea that it had been published before.

Yours truly,Lucy Larcom.

“Hannah Binding Shoes” was set to music, and became very popular. Rev. Samuel Longfellow wrote her, “I wish you could have heard, as I did the other evening, ‘Hannah’ sung by Adelaide Phillips.” Together with its sequel, “Skipper Ben,” it recalled an incident very common in a New England sea-town, where ships were lost and lovers never returned, where every home had in it hearts that beat for those out at sea, and where women stood on the shore and strained their eyes looking for a sail. In these verses, as in all her poetry of the sea, she has caught the dirge in the wind, and the lonesome sound of beating waves when the skipper “faced his fate in a furious night.”

In 1859 Miss Larcom tried, at the suggestion of many friends, to find a publisher for a volume of verses, but she was unsuccessful. A letter from Mr. Whittier accompanying the manuscript did not win Ticknor and Fields to her side. She took a very sensible view of her discomfiture.

TO JOHN DURAND.

Norton, October 29, 1860.

... I should have regarded the thought of publishing as premature; but most of my friends are not artistic, and do not look upon my unripe fruits as I do. What I have written is at least genuine, sincere. I believe it is in me to do better things than I have done, and I shall work on in the faith of leaving something that will find its true place in the right time, because of the life there is in it. To live out, to express in some way the best there is in us, seems to me to be about all of life....

After Miss Larcom’s return from the West, the friendship with the Whittiers ripened and became a factor in her life. The gentle sweetness of the poet’s sister Elizabeth soon won its way to her heart, and the strength of the man greatly impressed her. They grew very fond of her, and took an interest in her literary work. The attachment that Elizabeth formed for her was based on a most genuine love. In one of her letters she wrote, “Dear, dear Lucy,—Let me thank thee for all thy love. I can never tell thee how sweet it has been to me. I could have cried to think of thy loving care for me.” Again:—“I wish I could see thee oftener. I need thee. I feel a little more rest with thee than with most. Thou hast done me good since I first knew thee.” The two lives mingled and blended in the contact of companionship, for refinement of feeling, delicacy of thought, and strength of moral purpose, were characteristic of both. Mr. Whittier found her companionable, and admired her sincerity and poetical ability, which he recognized very early. It was one of Miss Larcom’s greatest pleasures, while at Norton, to run off and spend a few days at Amesbury in the household that she loved. What Mr. Whittier said, she knew to be true,—“Thee will always find the latchstring out;” and when away, she knew she was remembered, for Elizabeth sent her word that “Greenleaf has just filled thy blue and gold vase with the yellowest of flowers.”

Here is a letter to her, from Mr. Whittier, as early as 1853.