We broke up our Hampton home in the cold, dark, December days, and I shall never forget how delightful the change seemed to the warmth and cheer of the cosy Yarmouth parsonage, where we spent so many happy years. A pastorate of twenty-three years followed. The union between pastor and people was remarkable. Nothing occurred to ruffle the harmony during all those years. The best of our life work was done in Yarmouth, and it was amply rewarded by the love and confidence of our people. A new church edifice was built the year after our coming; and though the strain of feeling was very great in consequence of a change of location, and threatened at one time to divide the society entirely, the crisis was safely passed with the loss of only two or three families, and the attachment of all to the pastor who had led them safely through the conflict remained unshaken.
In the summer of 1871 we adopted a boy of nine months. He was a sweet and pleasant child, and for several years was a source of much comfort. But as he grew older seeds of evil all unsuspected began to spring up, and resulted later in bitter disappointment.
On the fourteenth of November, 1875, our dear daughter, Susan Webster, was born. It was a boon we had not dared to hope for. Our home was radiant with joy. The people showered congratulations, and gifts poured in to attest the general joy at the advent of the parsonage baby. Our Thanksgiving Day that year was one to be remembered.
This happy year was followed by one of severe trial. My husband's health, never very strong, broke down entirely, and a long season of complete nervous prostration followed. He kept his bed for months, and at last rallied very slowly, appearing again in his pulpit after an interval of nine months. The love of our people stood the trying test bravely. They continued the salary and supplied the pulpit, and were unwearied in their kindness and sympathy.
In the spring of 1882 we had the long-desired privilege of a journey to Europe. Our people granted us a vacation of six months, and the means were furnished by my father. We left our little Susie with my sister Susan, the other children remaining with friends in Yarmouth. It was a season of great enjoyment and profit. We visited England, Scotland, France, Holland, Belgium, Germany, Switzerland, and Italy. Returning, we spent some pleasant weeks with friends in London and Cornwall, and came home greatly benefited in mind and body.
On the 22d of April, 1884, Mother Dodge passed to the heavenly rest. Her home had been with us for many years. She had been failing perceptibly for some time, and disease of the heart developed, which caused her death, after an illness of a few days. Her funeral was attended in Yarmouth by Rev. Bernard Paine of Sandwich, and afterward she was taken to her old home in Newburyport, and a service was held at the North Church, conducted by Rev. Mr. Mills. She was then laid to rest in Highland Cemetery, by the side of her husband. She was a woman of strong character and large heart, and her life was full of devotion and self-sacrifice for her family, as well as usefulness in the church.
In the spring of 1889 we took a very delightful trip to California, visiting the famed Yosemite valley, and spending some time very pleasantly with my brother James's family in Oakland. Soon after our return I was seized with a very severe nervous illness which centered in my head, causing terrible attacks of vertigo. It resulted in shattering my health completely, and was followed by ten years of invalidism. The next year my husband again suffered a serious break-down, followed by another long season of nervous prostration. It was the result, in part, of over-exertion in revival services, joined with unusual labors in connection with the quarter-millennial celebration of the town of Yarmouth. As his strength slowly returned, he attempted to take up his work again, with the aid of an assistant; but it soon became evident that he was unequal to the task, and he was reluctantly obliged to resign the office of pastor. He was dismissed October 20, 1891. We removed to Newburyport November 7 of the same year, and made a home for ourselves there on land previously purchased, adjoining my husband's old home. We occupied our new house for the first time June 2, 1892. It has proved a comfort and joy to us, and we have both greatly improved in health.
I cannot close this chapter of our history without making special mention of our dear friends, Dr. and Mrs. Eldridge of Yarmouth, who played such an important part in our life there, whose friendship and sympathy were so constant and helpful during all the years, and whose frequent and well-chosen gifts added so much to the brightness of our home life, especially of the great kindness of Dr. Eldridge in providing a night nurse at his own expense all through my husband's first long illness. They have both passed to their reward, but their memory is a treasure to us. Our people also manifested their love and appreciation by numerous and valuable gifts. A full china dinner and tea service were given us at our china wedding, and an elegant set of silver forks and a fine cake-basket at our silver anniversary. A costly and beautiful silver loving-cup was their parting gift to my husband. It was appropriately inscribed with the text of his last sermon, "God is Love," significant of the character of his whole life work. The girls of my mission circle also presented a silver tray and tea service to me. These, and innumerable tokens of love scattered all along the way, form a chain of adamant to bind our hearts to the dear friends of those happy days, many of whom have gone before us to the heavenly home.
In April, 1896, Susie having left Wellesley College, her father took her abroad. They were accompanied by her friend and classmate, Miss Effie A. Work, of Akron, Ohio. My husband's illness on the way obliged them to cut short their trip and return home, and another long illness followed. He has now recovered, and my own health having greatly improved, we now gladly "thank God and take courage."
After an interval of some years, caused by returning ill-health, I take up again the story of our family life. Sadly enough, the first record must be of the great sorrow which came to us in the years 1903 and 1904. On the morning of August 8, 1903, my husband was taken very suddenly ill with an attack of congestion of the brain, while standing by his library table. He passed a day of great suffering and semi-unconsciousness, and at night was carried up to his bed, from which he only arose after months of utter prostration. He rallied at last very slowly, after an alarming relapse, and so far recovered as to be able to come down-stairs and walk about the house and mingle with the family at the table and otherwise socially. He was able to read a little and join in conversation, and greatly enjoyed his daily drives. On the evening of June 14 he was suddenly seized with a hemorrhage of the brain as he was retiring for the night, and became entirely unconscious. Every possible effort was made to arouse him, but all was unavailing. He lingered unconscious until the evening of June 17, when he passed quietly away, and entered into the "rest that remaineth for the people of God." My daughter Susan was absent from home, having gone to Simsbury, to act as bridesmaid at the wedding of her cousin, Susie Alice Ensign. She returned as speedily as possible, only to find that her father was unable to recognize her. She was with him at the last, holding his hand in hers as he passed over the dark river. The funeral services were held in the North Church on Tuesday, June 21. Prayer was offered at the house by Rev. Doctor Cutler of Ipswich, a lifelong friend. The procession entering the church was led by the pastor, Rev. Mr. Newcomb, reading the selections beginning, "I am the resurrection and the life." The music was by the Temple Male Quartet, who sang the hymns, "Rock of Ages" and "Abide with Me." Remarks followed by Rev. Dr. Cutler and Rev. Bartlett Weston, both intimate friends, also a few appropriate remarks by the pastor. The burial was at Oak Hill, the committal service being read by Dr. Hovey, and our dear one was laid to rest in a quiet, beautiful spot overlooking the meadows and hills he had loved so well. A granite monument in the form of a St. Martin's cross, bearing the inscriptions, "Resurgam," and "I am the resurrection and the life," marks his resting-place. Beautiful flowers in profusion were sent by relatives and friends and by different organizations in the city in which he had been prominent in token of the love and esteem in which he was held. The Yarmouth church, where most of his life work was done, sent two representatives, and an elegant wreath of ferns and orchids.