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On the evening of October 14th we left Dublin for Manchester, going via Liverpool. In crossing the Channel the boat was crowded with hogs, cattle and horses, with which the Irishmen were to "pay their rint"; between the noise of which and the roughness of the water we got very little rest. Arriving in Liverpool in the morning, Judson and Asa went directly on to Manchester

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to engage lodgings, the rest of us stopping in Liverpool to see our friends and get the mail. In the afternoon we followed, and joined in the hunt for lodgings, which they had not yet been able to find.

We were soon settled in comfortable quarters, and began to feel more at home than at any time since we had been in the country. There seemed to be a different atmosphere surrounding us. Though the town was very smoky and dirty, we were in good spirits. Judson had just heard from home that the letters he had sent had been published, and just having come from Ireland, said he was willing to stay in England till he went home.

We soon began to find friends. A Mr. Peacock, to whom we had a letter of introduction, did everything in his power to interest us, introduced us to a great many free-traders and friends of freedom, among them Mr. Robert Moore, husband of Rebecca Moore, who became a life-long friend of the Hutchinsons.

We stopped in the Bazaar, where an exhibition was in progress, to see the sights and get a view of a live duke from India. He came in, accompanied by his grotesque and brilliant suite and interpreter, when every eye was fixed on the lion of the hour. He passed through the room and took a seat in the orchestra with the music. We were invited to sing a song, and coming to the platform, we sang "Come on"; being encored, we sang "Over the Mountain," when we were loudly cheered. Thinking we had already been highly complimented we descended and were introduced to the duke, who expressed himself as much gratified with our singing.

Having concluded to change our boarding-place after being in it three days, we notified our landlady early on

"Judson had just heard from home":   This sentence ends with an interesting Judson-ism.

"A Mr. Peacock, to whom we had a letter of introduction":   It was Rebecca Moore, not her husband Robert Moore, who became a life-long friend of the Hutchinsons. The Moores' marriage fell short of being a storybook match. I imagine we'll get back to it later.

"We were invited to sing a song":   The Hutchinsons' repertoire included a song called "O'er The Mountain." For a specific reference, see Ludlow Patton's Hutchinson Family Scrapbook, Item 43v. While it's tempting to take this sort of song listing to mean "The Slave's Appeal (Over the Mountain and Over the Moor)," early, unambiguous documentation of that composition has been elusive.

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Sunday morning that we wanted our bill, as we were going to leave. She handed the bill to us, and on finding it made out for five pounds, a full week's bill, told her we would not pay it. At the same time we had our trunks all packed ready to leave. She got mad and very much excited, said we ate so much more than Englishmen that our board was worth more, and she would make no reduction. We then told her we would stay the week out, and forthwith ordered breakfast. It was produced in due time, and we so astonished the good woman with our voraciousness that she was glad to let us go at half-price.

Mrs. Rebecca Moore, at whose house Abby had been staying for a day or two, we found to be a highly intellectual, refined, sensible, loving woman, and the more we saw of her the more she grew into our affections; the many happy hours we spent in her society, in her house and at our own boarding-house, can never be forgotten, but will always be cherished by me as the pleasantest of my life. She still lives, and I often now receive tokens of friendship from her.

We found our new boarding-house a very pleasant place, and [we found] that it was where Edwin Forrest, the Disston Family, and other public characters stopped when in the city.

Mr. Bennett, a corn dealer, to whom we had a letter of introduction, was very polite and kind to us. He invited us to dine at his house. We found him living in fine style just out of the city, and we were beautifully entertained, and treated with marked attention and hospitality. After an early dinner he and some other friends whom we met at this house accompanied us back to the city. As we returned in the early evening the factories, of which the town was full, were all lighted

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up. The lights shining out brightly made a very brilliant effect.

We remained in Manchester only about a week at this time, making no engagements to sing, meeting some old American friends and making many new ones; then returned to Dublin, where we had to give some concerts.

The passage over this time was not so disagreeable as our former ones had been, as we were in a first-class boat, and the water was comparatively smooth. Among the many new acquaintances we made was a family of Quakers named Wells; they were very fond of music, and what was remarkable with that sect, they were very demonstrative in their manifestations of approval.

After remaining in Dublin for two weeks, giving concerts in the city and some of the surrounding towns, we began to make arrangements to go back to England. Not expecting to return to Dublin, we began to take final leave of our friends, and we thought they were as sorry to have us go as we were to leave them. They had all treated us handsomely, and on leaving gave us many tokens of their regard.

We spent our last evening at the house of Richard Webb, a party being given in our honor. During the evening Mr. Webb brought in a periodical which he had just procured, containing the "Bridge of Sighs," by Tom Hood, published then for the first time.

After reading it over, we took it into his library, and putting our heads together, we put the poem up in plain sight of each of us, began to adjust our different parts

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to the lines, and in a short time came out and sang it to the company; after making some slight changes in the music, it became one of the selections on our programme, and we sang it on almost every occasion.

We crossed the Channel again, this time from Kingston, on the steamer Iron Duke, and had a very rough voyage. On the morning of November 7th we arrived in Liverpool, and on the following evening gave a concert to sixteen hundred people, who greeted us with long-continued applause.

Mr. Buffum rejoined us here, having come on from Birmingham, and gave us quite a shock when he said he had had a falling out with Douglass, and could not stay with him any longer. He proposed to stay with us for a few days and wait for Dr. Kittredge, who was on the way over from America, when they were going together to France. We were very glad to have him with us, as he was full of fun, always in good spirits and cheered us up while we were in his presence.

On the 18th, Dr. Kittredge, of Lynn, or "Noggs," the nom de plume under which he wrote, arrived, and the next morning left for France with Buffum. It was very hard to part with these true hearts. "Noggs" had a claim of the first class on my affections. My diary says:

God bless every hair of his head, every inch of it is wit and good-humor; and were it to grow twice the length it now is, 'twould still be on the head of Noggs "continually." [The last was his great by-word.]

I shall never forget the time when first we met in England, in this old smoky Liverpool.

We were engaged now nearly every evening, either in Liverpool or some of the suburbs, and were quite happy and contented.

"Mr. Buffum rejoined us here":   This is a curious paragraph. Later parts of Story of the Hutchinsons document a feud between James N. Buffum and members of the Hutchinson family that lasted as long as Buffum lived.

"On the 18th, Dr. Kittredge, of Lynn":   Late in the life of Dr. Edward A. Kittredge, references to him in Hutchinson family records become scarce. Did they drift apart? I'd be interested to know. Either way, though, Kittredge and the Hutchinsons are close now. Dr. Kittredge is buried maybe twenty-five to fifty feet from Jesse and John Hutchinson.

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We went one evening to hear that good, faithful friend of humanity and equal rights, George Thompson, M.P., speak on the India question. I knew him the moment he entered the door, from descriptions I had received of him, and was prepared for the treat he gave us. His lecture was a fine one, full of poetry and feeling; his address was pleasant and impressive, his eloquence grand and powerful, and he had a magnetism that carried his audience with him.

We were introduced to him after the lecture, when he received us very cordially, and invited us to breakfast the next morning, where the conversation turned on the controversy then going on between Garrison and Rogers, which we all deplored.

This was the beginning of an acquaintance which was kept up between us to the day of his death; and we always found him the same kind, genial friend and formidable defender of any cause he espoused. He called upon us the same afternoon in company with Miss E. Pease, to bid us adieu, as we were about starting for Manchester, and said that he would meet us there the next day.

On the way to the station Asa and Abby went on ahead, walking at quite a rapid pace, and as it was quite dark they did not pay much attention to anything except to keep on the sidewalk. All of a sudden he went down, dragging her after him. When I came up I found they had fallen into a coal-hole which had just been opened. As they scrambled out they looked somewhat the worse for wear, not much hurt, but very much astonished. We had only time to caution the careless coal-heaver never to do such a thing again as to leave the hole open without some protection.

The road was very rough, and the cars were so tossed

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about that we found it almost impossible to get any rest; and to add to my discomfort there was a man sitting next to me who seemed quite fatigued and likewise desirous of getting some rest; just as I would get into a doze he would jog his lymphatic corporosity up against me, seeming to say at every lurch or nod, "Keep awake, or you'll take cold," which would have been good advice to follow, as some of the passengers had their windows open, and I did take quite a severe cold. We took a second-class coach, not that we despised the lowest, or abjured with homage the upper, but it was congenial to our ideas. "Give me neither poverty nor riches."

The next morning George Thompson called on us and suggested that we should sing a song or two at his lecture in the evening; and we consented. A short time after Jesse came in and said, "Boys, did you know you were announced to sing to-night?"  To our surprise posters had been put out announcing us to appear in company with George Thompson. When evening came we entered the hall with him; and previous to commencing his lecture, he introduced us to the audience in a very neat, complimentary manner, and we sang a song. Being encored, we sang another. At the close of his lecture, which was on the ancient history of India, we sang "The Old Granite State," and such a round of applause as we received did us good, and made us think of home. He afterwards gave us, together with Mrs. Moore, a very graphic account of his visit to India, the character, habits and customs of the people. It was like reading a novel, only much more interesting.

We heard Willson, the great Scotch singer, and admired him much in his description of the character of Burns, and singing of his songs.

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On the way out to Chester, where we gave a concert, we had a fine view of Easton Castle, a huge mass of rocks, perched up on a steep hill, looking like an iceberg, as viewed against the background of a clear sky.

From my diary:

"November 27th. This is Thanksgiving Day in our far-away New England home. We think of the father and mother and all the brothers gathered around the hearth to celebrate the day in prayers and hymns of praise, and wish ourselves there with them. As I look out and see the new moon just setting behind the hills, my memory reverts to the scenes of my youth. I think of the many happy hours of my earlier life, when I knew not what care or remorse was; of my school days, when I was filled with buoyant hopes of the time when I should be a man in active life. The bright side seems always to present itself in anticipating future events. The present never satisfies me. Little did I think, when trudging through the snow to the old district school-house, with my book in one hand and a piece of Johnny-cake in the other, singing as I went, and hurrahing for Jackson, who was then President of the United States, that I should ever visit Old England. But time and fate have brought it about; and here I am, a lonely, self-exiled, ignorant man, left to deal with the future. What is past I know; what is before I cannot tell; the present I have learned to improve and enjoy. I might say I regret the neglect of my books; that would only be folly. I will make the best of what I have, and improve all I can. I am happy of life, and hope for a future that will satisfy the mind. Many of my old friends and associates have gone home, with the memory of whose spirits I now hold sweet communion. Ere long this spirit will be separated from its tenement, and eternity begin its work of clothing it with celestial robes of immortality. Now, a transient home, but soon an everlasting one; now with anxious fears, soon peace and joy without alloy.

Returning from Preston, where we had been singing, to Manchester, we were enveloped in smoke and fog so

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thick we could hardly see across the street; which reminded us of a man who had told us a few days before, that he had been waiting forty years for a pleasant day to leave the city.

Asa, Judson and Jesse went one day with a friend to see one of the large cotton mills, and came home tired, but delighted with the sight, and covered with evidences of where they had been, in shape of fine particles of cotton all over their clothing.

Being engaged every evening in giving concerts of our own, attending others, or being entertained by our numerous friends, time passed very pleasantly and swiftly with us. We visited all the churches, at some of which we heard fine singing; the colleges and fairs, where we saw many interesting curiosities. So much dissipation was beginning to tell on us, and we were pretty well used up; but kept up our spirits, as we were just beginning to feel repaid, in a financial way, for coming.

In Manchester was located the largest and best equipped machine-shop in the kingdom, which we visited one day on the invitation of the proprietors, Sharp Brothers & Co. We were shown all through it, and were very much interested in watching the nine hundred employees at their work. There was a mammoth clock in the establishment, the pendulum of which weighed 312 lbs., and all the work in the place seemed to be going by that clock, at least it was as regular as the swing of the pendulum; but we were weary before we got through, watching the ponderous engines and the great variety of machines.

The largest and most enthusiastic meeting we attended was at about this time in Free Trade Hall. It was an anti-corn-law meeting. The hall was crowded, not less

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than eight thousand men being present, besides hundreds on the outside who could not gain admittance. It was a splendid sight to see such earnest, attentive, upturned faces. Yes, they were the working classes, who had come together mutually to seek redress for grievances; they were seeking the repeal of the corn-laws, that cursed system of keeping food from the starving poor of the country. Thank God, the laws were about to be repealed. Willson was the chairman of the meeting; Gibson, Cobden, Bright, Fox and Brotherton were the speakers; Fox was the orator of the occasion, his language being true eloquence. The audience was very enthusiastic; it must have been inspiring to have such an intelligent mass of human beings to address.

Bolton was another of the large manufacturing towns which we visited. We were met on our arrival by the committee of working-men which had engaged us. We were conducted to our lodgings, which, though humble, were very neat and comfortable. We gave a concert to one of the largest and most appreciative audiences we ever had. Next morning the sun shone out bright and clear, which was a great relief, as it rarely shines in this country unless obscured by the fog or smoke  -  here we found pumpkins a curiosity and a fair day a novelty. The town was dirty, everything begrimed with soot, but it was a manufacturing town, and we could expect nothing else. We were awakened in the morning by the ringing of bells and blowing of whistles, and kept awake in the early hours by the clatter of the wooden shoes on the pavements as the men, women and children stamped along on their way to the mills. There were some very large, high chimneys at some of these factories, one of them being thirty-six feet in diameter at its base, and three hundred and

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sixty-six feet high, octagon in shape, and built, as we were informed, without visible staging, the material all being carried up and the work done from the inside. There were not many fine houses or buildings in the town, but a fine free-hearted set of people.

As we came into Manchester on our return we saw that we were billed to sing the same evening at the Colonial Institute with Professor Greenbank. We sang four songs; by request I sang "The Maniac." Then we returned early to our rooms, Judson not being at all well, and for three or four evenings our concerts had to be given up or postponed on account of his sickness. On one occasion we engaged the services of Miss Whitnall, but she did not fill the vacancy in our quartet, though she was a fine singer. An apology was made for us by the mayor of the city.

We received letters from home; and among other matters of news, we learned that our brothers, Zephaniah, Caleb and Joshua with our sister Rhoda, were giving concerts in America, styling themselves "The Home Branch," and trying to sustain the reputation of the family.

From this time (about the middle of December) up to leaving Manchester, January 24th, we were engaged almost every evening in giving concerts. We sang in Bolton, where the house was full when we arrived. The crowd standing in the aisles was so dense that we had hard work to squeeze through; and after we were through, the gap closed up like water resuming its place after being disturbed by some body thrown into it.

We sang in Halifax, another manufacturing town of about seventy thousand inhabitants, nestled among the hills which were covered with snow; these reminded us very much of our own native hills. The scenery all

"We received letters from home; and among other matters":   The Home Branch of the Hutchinson Family had a short yet noteworthy history; but since John doesn't go into it in this book, I'll report on the Home Branch in some other publication. Suffice it to say for the moment that, by the time of the Hutchinsons' United Kingdom tour, "family" singers were springing up all over; and the Home Branch, along with having a short, sweet life of its own, did, indeed, sustain the reputation of the Hutchinsons at a time of heavy competition at home. It also launched the decades-long touring career of Joshua Hutchinson. Most of the Home Branch concerts were given in 1846 and featured all or some combination of Caleb, Joshua, and Zephaniah Hutchinson, cousin Ann Marvell, and accordionist Charles Buxton. Speaking of competition on the homefront, vocal groups of this period came and went and some of the best or luckiest were compared favorably to the Hutchinsons; yet few lasted long. The success of the Bakers seemed to rest largely on the popular songwriting of John C. Baker, while the Alleghanians excelled with Hutchinson-style harmonies and the star power of their young soprano, Miriam G. Goodenow.  Hutchinson Family biographer Phil Jordan, in a letter, after referring to the Baker Family, said, "I am of the firm belief that the [ Baker ] family was, indeed, one of the three major ones. In my opinion  -  a subjective one  -  the Alleghanians would come third. [Philip D. Jordan to Alan Lewis, September 24, 1977.]  Nothing in my own research offers much guidance as to the popularity of the Baker Family. But it looks to me as though, for a period of maybe as much as two or three years, the Alleghanians quartet was very competitive with the Hutchinsons.

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the way coming out from Manchester was grand, through a beautiful valley about six miles long, and on either side hills or mountains; in another place through six or eight arches of solid masonry, one of them two and three-quarters miles long.

We sang in Ashton, which had the finest hall we had yet been in, though it not being sufficiently heated we suffered very much with the cold. We gave a concert in Darwin, a town about nine miles off the railroad, to reach which we had to take a coach. The hotel here was a great mass of stone on the side of a hill; it looked like a prison, but we were well treated both in the house and at our concert.

As Christmas approached, we could see preparations being made for its celebration everywhere. The rich and poor alike were providing their gifts, and mistletoe boughs were seen on every hand.

On Christmas Day news was received of the ill-fated steamer President, which was lost three years before. It was now said that she had been taken by pirates; but none of the passengers were ever heard from. We spent the evening at our friend Peacock's, where he entertained us reading portions of the "Cricket on the Hearth," which had only just been published.

We had received a barrel of New Hampshire apples, as well as some chestnuts and hickory-nuts, right from the old farm, in time for Christmas, and they tasted good to us, and to our friends whom we "treated."

[1846]

We gave concerts in St. Helens, Rochdale, Macklesfield, and all towns around Manchester, and were receiving letters for engagements all the time. We received one anonymous letter, advising us not to meddle with English politics; to let free-trade alone!

George Dawson was delivering a course of lectures at

"On Christmas Day news was received of the ill-fated steamer President":   According to an Internet source about Anna Cora Mowatt, the dramatic piece, "The Missing Ship" by Epes Sargent, was based on the mysterious disappearance of the steamboat President. This could be the main reason why an update of such an old news story might interest John Hutchinson enough that he would bring it into his Story of the Hutchinsons. ["Career as a Public Reader," www.comm.unt.edu/histofperf/ACM3htm.htm, accessed March 27, 2005.]

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the Atheneum at this time, and we became quite well acquainted with him.  He was a young man, only twenty-four, and a man of a good deal of ability. We attended some of his lectures, and at the conclusion of one of them he pointed up to one of our bills on the wall, and expressed himself as much gratified that we were singing such songs  -  in a word, gave us a good puff; and when he spoke of poor Tom Hood, the author of some of the songs we sang, the audience sympathetically responded to the eulogy he pronounced upon him. He afterwards invited us to come to Birmingham, saying that he would do all he could to make our stay pleasant and profitable.

As we had several calls from London, Jesse went on there to make arrangements for our appearance in the metropolis of the world.

Our last concert in Manchester was given January 23d, and we prepared to leave for London the next day. Our friends all came to say good-by and God speed; and, telling them we should see them again two or three months hence, we got aboard the cars, singing the refrain:

The following passage, excerpted  from a letter in this book's appendix, from Rebecca Moore to John W. Hutchinson, is inserted here to add another interesting, thoughtfully-expressed point of view to John's narrative of the Hutchinson's visit to the United Kingdom.

My dear John:  -  You ask me for some recollections of your visit to England, with Abby and your brothers, in 1846.   I recall vividly your first appearance in Manchester, at the Atheneum. America and anti-slavery were for me words to conjure with, from the time that Harriet Martineau had proclaimed the abolitionists the martyrs of our age, and I was still more interested in the cause when I became acquainted with Mr. Garrison and other anti-slavery leaders.

Naturally, a Herald of Freedom introduction attracted me to your concert, and soon afterwards I made your personal acquaintance. On the Atheneum platform I first saw the tall, nervous, highly strung Judson, who sung with marvellous skill, "Excelsior," in a voice that seemed to sound from a higher sphere; John, the dramatic personification of the "Maniac"; Asa and Abby, sweet-toned twin singers; and Jesse, the stalwart man of business, who engineered the path to popularity and fame and to progress, if not to immediate fortune.

The simplicity and genuine worth and truth of character of these pioneers of temperance and anti-slavery, - "the nest of brothers with a sister in it," - was as remarkable and as fascinating as their programme and the performance to the more sophisticated English public. The choice of songs was wholly new to the concert-going world. Instead of the usual romantic and sentimental songs, Italian and English, varied with glorifications of battle and slaughter, we had poems by Tennyson and Longfellow and Hood at their best, and, in the minor keys, Charles Mackay, Eliza Cook and Lady Dufferin in words touching and true, all these set to old and new melodies exquisitely adapted, as the Laureate himself says, "Like perfect music unto noble words," when he describes the harmony to be produced by the equal union of the sexes - a part of the "music of the future" of which we have not yet heard much.

Other pieces that you gave, homely and simple in construction, with appropriate music, were relished for their autobiographical and humane interest, which carried the audience along with you.   I refer to such pieces as "The Cot where I was Born," "We're with you once again," "The Old Granite State," and still more emphatically, Hood's "Song of the Shirt," and "The Bridge of Sighs," the truth and pathos of which are not yet things of the past, like the "Slave's Appeal" and the spirited "Get off the Track!"

If you were to ask me which were the favorites with the public, I think I should say Abby's "May Queen," which enchanted every one; "Excelsior" and the "Maniac," which were always applauded; and Lady Dufferin's "Irish Emigrant" so beautifully given by Judson, touched the audience to the quick.

I think you stayed six or eight weeks in Manchester.   I had frequently the pleasure of social intercourse with you at my own house, and at your temperance hotel, as well as at the houses of friends, for many of your admirers became personal friends. The concert-room of the Atheneum had soon to be abandoned for the more spacious Free Trade Hall, where Abby in her pretty white dress and neatly braided hair, was a universal favorite. Your visits extended to Liverpool, Rochdale, Bury and other Lancashire towns, before you went to Birmingham.

Rebecca Moore to John W. Hutchinson, March 3, 1891, in John Hutchinson (1896, 2:341-343, at pp. 341-342).

Riding all day in the cars through a beautiful country  -  hills, valleys, meadows and streams, mansions and castles  -  we reached London at about five o'clock,

"Naturally, a Herald of Freedom introduction attracted me":   "Naturally, a Herald of Freedom introduction attracted me to your concert" has always struck me as an especially interesting thing for Rebecca Moore to say. Here we have an antislavery newspaper which was at least nominally written for a New Hampshire audience being read by a woman in England, and naturally it attracted her to a Hutchinson Family entertainment. Naturally, this came about because of the vividness, enthusiasm, and charming eccentricity of Nathaniel Peabody Rogers' brilliant writing.

"On the Atheneum platform I first saw the tall, nervous, highly strung":   Here we have yet another description from a dependable source of the often otherworldly quality in the singing of Judson J. Hutchinson. He sang "Excelsior"   "in a voice that seemed to sound from a higher sphere."

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where we were met by Jesse, and conducted to the quarters he had selected for us, at 21 Hollis Street.

We awoke bright and early the next morning, which was Sunday, January 25, 1846, to find ourselves in the third story of a boarding-house near Hanover Square. We had sung in Dublin, Liverpool and Manchester most of the time since we arrived in the country, and had had an experience which we prized as highly as we did money. We found ourselves a few hundred dollars ahead of what we had when we left home, and were now in London, the great and mighty city, all well and in good spirits. The surrounding houses impressed us as being very handsome, most of them five and six stories high, no blinds on the windows, and everything orderly and refined. Toward evening, after the rain had subsided, we walked out to St. James Park, where we saw Buckingham Palace, the home of the queen. It was a magnificent building, surrounded by a high iron fence, around which soldiers were stationed. In front was an arch built by George III, of solid marble.

I cannot now describe the impression formed upon my mind on this, my first visit to London; it came up to our fullest anticipations, and reminded us of the pictures we had seen of Babylon.

The next day we spent in looking about the city in company with our old friend "Noggs," who had returned from France. We called on George Thompson at his office, and found him just as pleasant and glad to see us as he was in Manchester, and promising to do everything he could for us. We also saw Mrs. Charles Dickens and her sister, with three other ladies, sang them some songs, with which they seemed much pleased; she invited us to her house on the Wednesday following.

George Thompson having obtained an invitation for

"We also saw Mrs. Charles Dickens and her sister":   The Hutchinsons seem to have become fast friends with Catherine Dickens. George W. Putnam, a close friend of the singers, was Charles Dickens' personal secretary during his 1842 American tour. This may explain why the Hutchinsons  -  then practically unknown in London  -  could have been welcomed so soon, and apparently so often, to the home of one of its most celebrated citizens. The connection with Charles Dickens became a permanent entry on the Hutchinsons' resumé. It was of more than incidental interest to the Hutchinsons that Catherine Dickens' father was the great music journalist and historian, George Hogarth.

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us to attend a Buckingham Soirée, which was held in the hall of the British and Foreign Institute, we repaired to the hall at about half-past eight, and were ushered into a room full of aristocratic people, with white gloves, etc. We took an obscure seat behind the piano, and as soon as quiet was restored we began to sing  -  first "The Cot where we were Born," which we followed with "Excelsior" and "Over the Mountains"; all of which were received with applause. Then George Thompson gave a short history of our family, and of our intentions in coming to England (a most favorable introduction); after which Abby was asked to sing the "May Queen," which was received with pronounced marks of approbation. Having spent a very pleasant hour we returned to our rooms, light-hearted and full of hope for the future, for we had a promise of a command to visit the queen shortly. This was a courtesy expressed by royalty to visitors, a command instead of an invitation.

We were boarding ourselves, as we did in Dublin, and found it the most convenient and pleasant way of living. It was the custom followed by most foreigners at that time. We hired our rooms, furnished our own food, which was cooked for us in the house and put on a private table, for all of which so much a week was paid. George Thompson was a frequent guest at our cheerful board where he wittily related many of his American experiences.

We visited the gallery of fine arts, where we saw some very fine paintings. Then we called on the American minister, found his clerk in, and he gave us a Democratic discourse on politics.

We were invited to spend an evening with Charlotte Cushman, who was just starting in her professional

"Then we called on the American minister":   Jesse Hutchinson, Jr., was a lifelong Democrat. This will bear repeating later.

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career: arriving at the house we found quite a large party, and being asked to sing, we contributed several selections. During the evening she, together with Eliza Cook, the author of the song, and the author of the music, also present, sang the new song, a parting glee, "Come, let us part":

It had just been written, and was still in manuscript. (This was the last song I sang with my sister Abby in Boston, in 1892, but a few weeks before her death.) We often met Miss Cushman afterward, and esteemed her highly for her grand womanly qualities of heart and mind.

On the day appointed we called on Mrs. Dickens and spent a very pleasant, social hour. We did not see Dickens, he not being at home.

Having made arrangements to give our first concert in London on February 10th, we had some time to look about and see the sights, of which we took advantage by visiting a great many people and places of interest. We saw Charlotte Cushman in "Romeo and Juliet," attended the Julian concerts, and went to Westminster Abbey. One day we took a steamer down the river to

"During the evening she, together with Eliza Cook":   Abby Hutchinson Patton wrote that Charlotte Cushman sang "in a most strange, deep voice."

"On the day appointed we called on Mrs. Dickens":   This must have been the occasion during which the Hutchinsons sang for George Hogarth. Sister Abby implied a date  -  Wednesday, February 11, 1846  -  that seems impossibly late.

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the Thames Tunnel, which we found a wonderful structure indeed. I walked through it with a Scotchman; it was lit up with gas, and all along the walk were fancy stations or booths, where men, women and children were offering little trinkets for sale. We saw three little boys, the youngest six years old, playing a harp and violins, and they made very sweet music. Asa tried to get his phiz cut out for a sixpence; when it was done it resembled Sir Walter Scott more than it did him, and because he found fault with it the sculptor was quite wrathy and threatened to black his eye and inflict all manner of corporal punishment upon him.

We passed up the river about two miles, lowering the smoke-stack of our little steamer as we ran under the many bridges with which the river is spanned. The "London" bridge was a splendid structure, but the "Suspension" was far superior. We returned to the city in the early afternoon, having passed a very pleasant day, and seen many places of historical interest, among which was Westminster College.

Abby and Jesse repaired to the house of Charles Dickens, where they had been invited to dine; and in the evening we all joined them, in company with "Noggs." After taking some coffee we were shown into the parlor upstairs, and ushered into the presence of some of the most notable characters of the day. There was Macready, the actor; Douglas Jerrold, the author of the famous "Mrs. Caudle's Curtain Lectures"; Samuel Rogers, the celebrated poet; the Hon. Mrs. Norton [Caroline Sheridan Norton], author of "Bingen on the Rhine"; and a number of others no less noted. By request we sang "The Bridge of Sighs,"  "Good Time Coming," and other selections, which were well received.  "Noggs" got

"Asa tried to get his phiz cut out":   Phiz, from physiognomy, refers to the face. This incident with a London silhouette-maker shows how artistic temperament can turn ugly.

"Abby and Jesse repaired to the house of Charles Dickens":   It's interesting that it was Jesse Jr. and Abby who were invited to dinner with Charles Dickens.

"By request we sang The Bridge of Sighs":   For the next several years, Hutchinson Family papers made puzzling reference to music called "The Good Time Coming," and available evidence suggests that this piece was not the well-known song, "There's a Good Time Coming."  Here we have an early case in point. The Hutchinsons wouldn't introduce "There's a Good Time Coming" to the public for several months  -  until the middle of May. Also around this time, lyrics that would eventually find their way into Jesse's "Right Over Wrong" ("The good time, the good time, the good time coming on") started to appear.

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into conversation with Macready, not understanding who he was, and said to him, "I know I've seen you somewhere."  "Very likely you have," he replied, "I have been in America, all through the States, etc."  After they had finished, Asa said to "Noggs,"  "Did you know you were talking to the celebrated actor, Macready?"  When "Noggs" realized it, every muscle in his face contracted and relaxed alternately; he was much surprised and embarrassed. After spending a very pleasant evening we retired; often calling at the house afterwards, always being welcome, and receiving calls from Mrs. Dickens, who came to hear us sing.

While dining with Mr. and Mrs. Dickens, Charles Dickens sat at Abby's right, and Douglas Jerrold at her left. In accordance with her pledge, she declined the wine when offered. Dickens said, "Well, Jerrold, after dinner we also will give up wine  -  until tomorrow."

We found that we had every kind of talent to contend with in London, from the street musicians to the finest operas; as this seemed to be the Mecca of all who were after fame, popularity and money. We soon made up our minds it was no place for us to succeed, as it would take a longer time than we had at our disposal to create a sentiment in our favor. We found not the best of feeling existing toward the Yankees; and as we were more distinctively American than any other company ever introduced in the country, there was a good deal of prejudice against us, and it was only among a certain class, and that the industrial, that we could hope for much appreciation. We accordingly decided that our stay must be short in London; we could give a few concerts in the city, visit some of the suburban manufacturing towns, where we could always command good

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audiences, see all the points and places of interest in and about the town, and then return to Manchester or Liverpool.

We spent a delightful evening at the house of George Thompson, and found his wife, though an invalid, a most charming lady.

Notes by Alan Lewis