John Greenleaf Whittier
In 1882 John Greenleaf Whittier wrote a
letter containing this autobiography.
Amesbury, 5th Mo.,
1882
Dear Friend :-1 am asked in thy note of this morning to give
some account of my life. There is very little to give.
I can say with Canning's knife-grinder: "Story, God bless you! I
have none to tell you!"
I was born on the 17th of December, 1807, in the easterly part
of Haverhill, MA, in the house built by my first American
ancestor, two hundred years ago. My father was a farmer, in
moderate circumstances,-a man of good natural ability, and sound
judgment. For a great many years he was one of the Selectmen of
the town, and was often called upon to act as arbitrator in
matters at issue between neighbors. My mother was Abigail
Hussey, of Rollinsford, NH. A bachelor uncle and a maiden aunt,
both of whom I remember with much affection, lived in the
family. The farm was not a very profitable one; it was burdened
with debt and we h
ad no spare money; but with strict economy we
lived comfortably and respectably. Both my parents were members
of the Society of Friends. I had a brother and two sisters. Our
home was somewhat lonely, half hidden in oak woods, with no
house in sight, and we had few companions of our age, and few
occasions of recreation. Our school was only for twelve weeks in
a year,- in the depth of winter, and half a mile distant. At an
early age I was set at work on the farm, and doing errands for
my mother, who, in addition to her ordinary house duties, was
busy in spinning and weaving the linen and woolen cloth needed
in the family.
On First-days, father and mother, and sometimes one of the
children, rode down to the Friends' Meeting-house in Amesbury,
eight miles distant. I think I rather enjoyed staying at home
and wandering in the woods, or climbing Job's hill, which rose
abruptly from the brook which rippled down at the foot of our
garden. From the top of the hill I could see the blue outline of
the Deerfield mountains in New Hampshire,
and the solitary
peak of Agamenticus on the coast of Maine. A curving line of
morning mist marked the course of the Merrimac, and Great Pond,
or Kenoza, stretched away from the foot of the hill towards the village of Haverhill hidden
from sight by intervening hills and woods, but which sent to us
the sound of its two church bells. We had only about twenty
volumes of books, most of them the journals of pioneer ministers
in our society. Our only annual was an almanac. I was early fond
of reading, and now and then heard of a book of biography or
travel, and walked miles to borrow it.
When I was fourteen years old my first school-master, Joshua
Coffin, the able, eccentric historian of Newbury, brought with
him to our house a volume of Burns' poems, from which he read,
greatly to my delight. I begged him to leave the book with me;
and set myself at once to the task of mastering the glossary of
the Scottish dialect at its close.
This was about the first poetry I had ever read, (with the
exception of that of the Bible, of which I had been a close
student,) and it had a lasting influence upon me I began to make
rhymes myself, and to imagine stories and adventures. In fact I
lived a sort of dual life, and in a world of fancy, as well as
in the world of plain matter-of-fact about me. My father always
had a weekly newspaper, and when young Garrison started his
"Free Press". at Newburyport, he took it in the place of the
"Haverhill Gazette." My sister, who was two years older than
myself, sent one of my poetical attempts to the editor. Some
weeks afterwards the news-carrier came along on horse-back and
threw the paper out from his saddle-bags. My uncle and I were
mending fences. I took up the sheet, and was surprised and
overjoyed to see my lines in the "Poet's Corner." I stood gazing
at them in wonder, and my uncle had to call me several times to
my work before I could recover myself. Soon after, Garrison came
to our farm-house, and I was called in from hoeing in the
corn-field to see him. He encouraged me, and urged my father to
send me to school. I longed for education, but the means to
procure it were wanting. Luckily, the young man who worked for
us on the farm in summer, eked out his small income by making
ladies' shoes and slippers in the winter; and I learned enough
of him to earn a sum sufficient to carry me through a term of
six months in the Haverhill
Academy. The next
winter I ventured upon another expedient for raising money, and
kept a district school in the adjoining town of Amesbury, thereby enabling me to have another
academy term. The next winter I spent in Boston, writing for a paper. Returning in the
spring, while at work on the farm, I was surprised by an
invitation to take charge of the Hartford
(CT) "Review," in the place
of the famous George D. Prentice, who had removed to Kentucky. I had sent him some of my
school "compositions," which he had received favorably. I was
unwilling to lose the chance of doing something more in
accordance with my taste, and, though I felt my unfitness for
the place, I accepted it, and remained nearly two years, when I
was called home by the illness of my father, who died soon
after. I then took charge of the farm, and worked hard to "make
both ends meet ;" and, aided by my mother's and sister's thrift
and economy, in some measure succeeded.
As a member of the Society of Friends, I had been educated to
regard Slavery as a great and dangerous evil, and my sympathies
were strongly enlisted for the oppressed slaves by my intimate
acquaintance with William Lloyd Garrison. When the latter
started his paper in Vermont, in
1828, I wrote him a letter commending his views upon Slavery,
Intemperance and War, and assuring him that he was destined to
do great things. In 1833, I was a delegate to the first National
Anti-Slavery Convention, at Philadelphia. I was one of
the Secretaries of the Convention and signed its Declaration. In
1833, I was in the Massachusetts Legislature. I was mobbed in Concord, NH, in company with George Thompson,
afterwards member of the British Parliament, and narrowly
escaped from great danger. I kept Thompson, whose life was
hunted for, concealed in our lonely farm-house for two weeks. I
was in Boston during the great mob in Washington Street,
soon after, and was threatened with personal violence. In 1837,
I was in New York, in
conjunction with Henry B. Stanton and Theodore D. Weld, in the
office of the American Anti-Slavery Society. The next year I
took charge of the "Pennsylvania Freeman," an organ of the
Anti-Slavery Society. My office was sacked and burned by a mob
soon after, but I continued my paper until my health failed,
when I returned to
Massachusetts.
The farm in Haverhill had, in the
meantime, been sold, and my mother, aunt and youngest sister,
had moved to Amesbury, near the Friends' Meeting-house, and I
took up my residence with them. All this time I had been
actively engaged in writing for the anti-slavery cause. In 1833,
I printed at my own expense, an edition of my first pamphlet,
"Justice and Expediency." With the exception of a few dollars
from the "Democratic Review" and "Buckingham's Magazine," I
received nothing for my poems and literary articles. Indeed, my
pronounced views on Slavery made my name too unpopular for a
publisher's uses. I edited in
"The Middlesex
Standard," and afterwards became associate editor of the
"National Era," at Washington. I
early saw the necessity of separate political action on the part
of Abolitionists and was one of the founders of the Liberty Party-the germ of the present
Republican Party.
In 1837,1864;
and in
1863, "Snow Bound." In
1860, I was chosen a member of the Electoral College of Massachusetts,
and also in
I have been a
member of the Board of Overseers of Harvard College, and a
Trustee of Brown University. But while feeling, and willing to
meet, all the responsibilities of citizenship, and deeply
interested in questions which concern the welfare and honor of
the country, I have, as a rule, declined overtures for
acceptance of public stations. I have always taken an active
part in elections, but have not been willing to add my own
example to the greed of office.
I have been a member of the Society of Friends by birth-right,
and by a settled conviction of the truth of its principles and
the importance of its testimonies, while, at the same time, I
have a kind feeling towards all who are seeking, in different
ways from mine, to serve God and benefit their fellow-men.
Neither of my
sisters are living. My dear mother, to whom I own much every
way, died in
My brother is
still living, in the city of Boston. My
niece, his daughter, who was with me for some years, is now the
wife of S. T. Pickard, Esq., of Portland, Maine. Since she left me
I have spent much of my time with esteemed relatives at Oak
Knoll, Danvers, MA,
though I still keep my homestead at Amesbury, where I am a
voter.
My health was never robust; I inherited from both my parents a
sensitive, nervous temperament; and one of my earliest
recollections is of pain in the head, from which I have suffered
all my life. For many years I have not been able to read or
write for more than half an hour at a time; often not so long.
Of late, my hearing has been defective. But in many ways I have
been blest far beyond my deserving; and, grateful to the Divine
Providence. I tranquilly await the close of a life which has
been longer, and on the whole happier, than I had reason to
expect, although far different from that which I dreamed of in
youth. My experience confirms the words of old time, that "it is
not in man who walketh to direct his steps." Claiming no
exemption from the sins and follies of our common humanity, I
dare not complain of their inevitable penalties. I have had to
learn renunciation and submission, and "Knowing that kindly Providence its care is
showing in the withdrawal as in the bestowing, Scarcely I dare
for more or less to pray."
Thy friend,
JOHN G. WHITTIER
