In the spring of 1844 Mrs. White had taken her daughter Maria to Philadelphia to spare her the rigors of the North, and they had found lodgings at 127 Arch Street, with Friend Parker, a kindly Quakeress, who had made them acquainted with Mr. and Mrs. E. M. Davis, influential members of the Society of Friends. An intimacy grew up between them, for they had a strong bond of sympathy in their common zeal for the cause of anti-slavery and other reforms, and a few weeks after the return of the Whites to Watertown, Maria wrote to her new friends: “I have talked so much to James of Philadelphia, that I have inspired him with a desire to try its virtues if he has an opportunity. We shall probably be married in the spring and I wish very much to spend it there, instead of in our bleak New England, and we should do so if we heard of any opening or employment for him during so short a period as three months. I suppose the season for lectures would be over then, and I fear that Destiny has not been so kind as to arrange any exact labors for him then, simply because he wishes to go. But should you hear of any situation for a literary man at that time, however small the recompense, might I not depend on your kindness to let us know of it?”
For some reason the marriage took place as we have seen at the close of 1844, and not in the spring of 1845. Mr. and Mrs. Lowell stayed a day or two in New York at the New York Hotel, whose splendor amazed them, and reached Philadelphia on the first day of the new year. By a happy augury, the weather had been delightful on their journey, and they had almost a breath of summer in midwinter. They went at once to Friend Parker’s, and settled down to happy work. The scheme of lecturing had come to nothing, but Mr. Davis had arranged that Lowell should do some editorial work on the Pennsylvania Freeman. That paper had taken the place of the National Enquirer, when Benjamin Lundy relinquished its management. Whittier went to Philadelphia in the spring of 1838 to edit the Freeman, and remained there two years, when his frail health compelled him to retire. The paper had been temporarily suspended in the interest of the National Anti-Slavery Standard, but had been revived and was now under the editorial control of C. C. Burleigh and J. Miller McKim.
The situation of the young pair is sketched in the following letter to Robert Carter:—
127 Arch Street, Philadelphia,
Jan’y 14, 1845.
My dear Boy,—Here we are situated as pleasantly as can be, and I write to inform you of the fact a great deal sooner than you expected, having been in Philadelphia just a fortnight to-morrow. I shall not attempt to give you any statistical information with regard to anything here, for I know that if I should try to describe the Hall of Independence, or anything else, you would contradict me stoutly till I convicted you out of some Geography or other, and then you would manage to change sides and appear to be confuting me. You see that your obstinacy about Boston Common has cheated you out of a minute detail of all the curiosities of this city, together with an account of the riots, taken from the mouth of one of the leaders of the mob who was shot dead at the first fire of the military. But this is a melancholy subject.
Why did you not (you rascal!) slip even so much as a little note into the package you sent through the Anti-Slavery office? Speaking of letters, I mailed one at Worcester from Maria to Sarah Page, directed to your care, and the Post Office being closed, I ventured to mail it without paying the postage, trusting that the kind providence which has hitherto taken care of you above your deserts may have enabled you to redeem it from the claws of the Brookline postmaster.
Owen writes me that the “Conversations” is selling well, and Peterson[46] says that the notices are all of the most favorable kind. I have seen Graham and shall probably be able to make a good arrangement for him after my new book has been puffed a little more. He has grown fat, an evidence of success. He lives in one of the finest houses in Arch Street, and keeps his carriage. He says he would have given me $150.00 for the “Legend of Brittany” for his Magazine without the copyright. I am sorry I did not think of this at the time.
I shall get along very easily while I am here. I am engaged to write leaders for the Pennsylvania Freeman (which comes out once a fortnight) and am to be paid $5.00 for each. I was unwilling to take anything, but they say I must and I suppose I ought. I wrote one for the next Thursday’s paper entitled “Our Position;” it is not very good, but I shall do better as I get used to it.
I have not seen the first number of the Broadway Journal yet, but the second is quite entertaining and well done. The type is a little too large. Are you going to write a notice of my book for the paper? Briggs has written to me since I got here, but says nothing about it. I unfortunately missed seeing him in New York.
We have a little room in the third story (back) with white muslin curtains trimmed with evergreen, and are as happy as two mortals can be. I think Maria is better, and I know I am—in health I mean, in spirit we both are. She is gaining flesh and so am I, and my cheeks are grown so preposterously red that I look as if I had rubbed them against all the red brick walls in the city.