Echoes of the Greek Revolution.—The Enchanted Garden.—“Green Peace” an International Resort.—Political Exiles Teach Us Foreign Languages and the Love of Freedom.—Louis Kossuth.
WHILE the Institution for the Blind was our pleasant refuge, our permanent and dearly loved home was “Green Peace.”
As you came in the main door of entrance and looked down the long hallway of the house you saw directly opposite to you Byron’s helmet, fitting symbol of the man who dwelt there. My father had hung it up, as a returned pilgrim did his staff and cockle-hat in the olden time, or a warrior his sword and shield.
True, father had never worn that or any other helmet; unless I am much mistaken, neither had Byron. Yet the noble example and stirring verses of the poet had much to do with young Howe’s sailing for Greece, where for seven long years he helped carry out the work which Byron had begun. When, broken in health, he at length left ancient Hellas, she was once more free! Thus the helmet reminded those who knew, not only of the poet’s devotion to the cause for which he died, but also of the work of his admirer and successor, Dr. Samuel Gridley Howe, the “Chevalier,” as he was called by his intimates.
In the prison of the Kaiser,
By the barricades of Seine,[[4]]
in Greece, and later, in slavery-ridden America, had he striven for human freedom.
The helmet not only reminded of past deeds; it was also an incentive to generous efforts in the present. My father was deeply interested in all attempts to throw off the yoke of kings and welcomed to “Green Peace” political exiles and refugees from many countries.
Wherever rise the peoples,
Wherever sinks a throne,