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During the latter part of October Abby and Ludlow came from New York to Boston, making their headquarters at the United States Hotel. On October 30th they came to High Rock, Abby's last visit. "Abby will not stay long in this world," my diary says. I little realized, however, how short the time was. On Wednesday, November 2d, I dined with them at their hotel, and before I left we sang our dear old English farewell:

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It was our last song, though we did not know it. On the 20th, word came to me that Abby had been stricken with paralysis. On the following day I left for New York, and as soon as I arrived, was admitted to her bedside. The poor tongue would not articulate, but she smiled upon me in recognition. Two days later, on Thanksgiving Day, she died. Asa had died on Thanksgiving Day, just six years before. On Saturday, November 26th, funeral services were held at the house of her nephew, Lucius B. Hutchinson, on West 57th Street, New York City. Her nephew by marriage, Rev. Cornelius Patton, conducted the ceremonies. Abby's friend, Mrs. Anderson, sang two selections, and at Abby's request a year or two previous, I made a few remarks and sang three songs, "The Lord is my Shepherd,"  "No Tear in Heaven," and "We are almost Home."  When she wrote me, I responded that she would be more likely to sing at my funeral, but if I survived her, I would surely sing and speak. On the 29th, the body having been taken to Milford, N.H., final services were held there, in the Unitarian church. Rev. Messrs. Rich and Pendleton were in charge, and again I spoke and sang. There was a large attendance of the remnants of the once happy family, but of her father's family I was alone. A sense of loneliness came over me that I hope few of my readers will ever experience.

Over the grave we sang again

I stayed that night with Kate Hutchinson Burney, Judson's daughter, returning to Lynn on the following day. In two days I received another summons. Abel

"On the 20th, word came to me that Abby":   Evidently John is referring here to the second stroke of his sister, Abby Hutchinson Patton. Her first stoke occurred on Sunday, November 13. The timing described in the main text is tough to follow in that it is hard to believe, to say the least, that John would not have been notified of Abby's situation until a full week after her first stoke.

"Abby's friend, Mrs. Anderson, sang two selections":   Notice John's reference here to a letter from Abby sometime around 1891 in which she asked him to speak and sing at her funeral. This is an example of the fatalistic talk referred to in the 1891 year-end footnote above.

"For O, we stand on Jordan's strand":   From "The Shining Shore" by the Rev. David Nelson and George Frederick Root.  John W. Hutchinson often called this piece, "Our Days Are Gliding Swiftly By."

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Fordyce Hutchinson, my old neighbor and friend of boyhood days, died in Waltham. He was a brother to Jerusha, Judson's wife. His funeral occurred at Milford the following Monday, at the house of his daughter, Mrs. Wallace. Again I sang, "No Tear in Heaven," and spoke to the assembly of my hope of a heavenly meeting. As I rode through the cemetery, I saw the grave of Sister Abby, covered with green hemlock boughs, and freshly came to me my overwhelming sense of loss, a sorrow that has returned with every thought of her in the months that have passed. The joyous early days, the charming experiences of our concert beginnings, the months spent in Europe, the stirring scenes of anti-slavery days, the hundreds of happy interviews scattered over the years since her marriage, when we met at the old homestead, in New York, at Orange, N.J., on High Rock, in Florida, California or Washington all of these come back and are often reviewed in memory when I think of the dearest, most gifted, most helpful sister it is often an unworthy man's good fortune to have. But truly, my loss is her gain, and the gain of her brothers and sisters who have gone before. And I shall soon meet her "over there."

In the middle of December, within a week of each other, two memorial services were held for John G. Whittier. The first was in Amesbury, and I made a few remarks and sung an original song by Joseph W. Nye, of Lynn, a native of Salisbury Point, and a life-long friend of the poet. On the 21st, Haverhill held her memorial in the city hall. Elaborate preparations had been made, and a large number of invitations had been sent out. Hon. Thomas E. Burnham, mayor of the city, presided. The exercises included a fine original poem by Will M. Carleton and an eloquent eulogy by

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Edwin D. Mead, editor of the New England Magazine. At the close of the eulogy I was introduced, and sung "The Furnace Blast."  The memorial volume published by the city council, speaks of the incident as follows:

After the oration the Mayor said: "Before the 'Auld Lang Syne' shall be sung that will close these exercises, let us pause that we may ask a question:

Who does not remember the trying days when slavery had fastened its fangs upon this free country, and the instrumentalities that contributed to the overthrow of the monster evil?  Foremost in this work with voice and pen was Whittier.  But let us not forget his co-laborers and personal friends, some of whom lend their presence here to-day, and when we welcome the venerable John W. Hutchinson, the last survivor of that matchless family whose patriotic songs did so much to hasten the glorious cause, we welcome them one and all. And for them he will briefly respond in song.

When Mr. Hutchinson rose to respond, the scene was touching in the extreme. A man he was on whom the hand of time had been laid, leaving its imprint in the snow-white locks that hung about his shoulders and the patriarchal beard that lay upon his breast. More than three-score and ten years had passed over his head; sisters and brothers, old friends and associates, all had sung their last songs, and he, old and alone, stood there. His heavy brows still held their dark, strong shade, as if to add lustre to the keen, sharp eyes that, brightened by the occasion, flashed with the old-time fire; his voice, weak with age, yet clear and sweet, fell upon his hearers as an echo from another age, a legacy handed down from a crisis when right was struggling close-matched against wrong.

He had come here to tune once more his lyre in honor of the dear friend of his youth.

After a few feeling remarks, in clear and melodious tones, he sung with wonderful effect, "Ein feste burg ist unser Gott."

That evening I was a guest of the Haverhill Board of Trade, and sung "One Hundred Years Hence," by request. Thus the sad year ended, and I commenced on a new and in many respects happier one, 1893.  It was less marked by losses of loved friends, and was also notable as the year of the World's Fair, which I enjoyed to the full.

"His heavy brows still held their dark, strong shade":   Other sources report that John W. Hutchinson's voice remained strong for many years after this. So it is hard to know what to make of the reference here to "his voice, weak with age."

[1893]

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On the second day of January, Hattie Dow, daughter of Brother Zephaniah, whose home was in Chicago, visited me at High Rock. On the 16th I attended the funeral of General Butler, at Lowell. On the 26th I went to the funeral of Bishop Phillips Brooks, in Boston. On the 9th of February there was a great camp-fire of the Grand Army at Faneuil Hall, in Boston.   I made a five-minute speech, and sung "The Furnace Blast."  On February 28th I gave a lecture and concert at Spencer, Mass.   I gave the entertainment alone, singing a miscellaneous programme.   I was somewhat disappointed not to have the Rev. Samuel May, of Leicester, my old anti-slavery co-laborer, present to preside. In his unavoidable absence, Rev. E. Stuart Best, pastor of the church in which the concert was given, presided.

Sitting by the open fire on the 5th of March, its genial warmth so filled me with satisfaction that I dropped into verse, as follows:

On March 10th I went to Lancaster, twenty-five miles north of the White Mountains, in New Hampshire, and gave a concert in the Congregational Church.   I stopped several days with Mrs. Louisa Dow Benton, daughter of Neal Dow, in that place, and received many kind attentions which I recall with gratitude. On one day we rode in a sleigh across the Connecticut River and over

"I was somewhat disappointed not to have":   I don't know the particulars behind Rev. Samuel May's absence from the program at Spencer, Massachusetts, but his wife died in this year, 1893.

"My housekeeper has built a fire":   John W. Hutchinson attended the 1893 World's Columbian Exposition in the company of his housekeeper. We are not told her name. Sometime around the turn of the 20th century, John was romantically involved with his housekeeper. Whether she would be the same person as the 1893 housekeeper is unknown, though I think not.

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the neighboring hills. The winter view of the White Mountains from this point was magnificent. Mrs. Benton had sent for me the previous autumn, but the concert was postponed owing to the accidental death of her husband, he having been the victim of a runaway accident.

On the 17th of April George M. Hutchinson was killed by the cars at Charlemont. He was the son of my brother Caleb. As the report first came to the papers, I was the victim, but it was soon corrected.

April 26th was a notable day. The Danvers Historical Society held a commemorative meeting, in the honor of old anti-slavery days, in the town hall. Of all the reunions of the Abolitionists in late years, this was the most interesting. The town was the birthplace and home of my ancestors; it had its full share of the heroes of anti-slavery days; it had as president of its historical society Rev. A. P. Putnam, a man of just the cast of mind to place the emphasis on every salient point made by the notable group of men and women who addressed the meeting. He had the tact to know just who to invite to speak, and just where to put him in. The proceedings of the meeting were published in an elaborate volume, of great historical value to every friend of the cause of the slave. Dr. Putnam arranged with a photographer to take views of the group on the stage and also of the audience. Among those present were Winthrop Andrews, Rev. Peter Randolph, Rev. D. S. Whitney, George T. Downing, Abner S. Mead, John M. Lennox, Rev. Samuel May, Hon. Parker Pillsbury, William Alley, Rev. Geo. W. Porter, D.D., Mrs. Abby Morton Diaz, Cornelius Wellington, J. M. W. Yerrinton (the former publisher of the Liberator), David Mead, Hon. M. M. Fisher, George W. Putnam, Rev.

"Of all the reunions of the Abolitionists in late years":   "We intend to make the occasion one of remarkable interest, and possibly no other like it will ever be held hereafter, so many of the old veterans have gone, and the survivors are now so old and feeble. I have written to Pillsbury and Weld and May and T. T. Stone and Julia Ward Howe and George W. Putnam, of your city, and shall soon write to Lucy Stone and her husband and Douglass and others. Please suggest names to me, as we want to secure the presence of as many of the old famous heroes and heroines as may be, especially those who were tried and true from the first to last, as champions of the cause of the poor and oppressed." [A. P. Putnam to J. W. Hutchinson, March 9, 1893, in "Old Anti-Slavery Days," (Lynn, Mass.) Item, s.l.: s.n., n.d., in Ludlow Patton's Hutchinson Family Scrapbook, Item 111v.]   This quotation is from John W. Hutchinson's invitation to the 1893 Danvers Historical Society antislavery reunion.

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William H. Fish, Lewis Ford, Miss Sarah E. Hunt, Mrs. Lucy Stone, William Lloyd Garrison, Jr., Rev. Aaron Porter, George B. Bartlett, Henry B. Blackwell, Miss Sarah H. Southwick, Mrs. Kate Tannatt Woods and others. The proceedings lasted from one to half-past six o'clock, and then speakers who were prepared had to be omitted from the programme. My daughter Viola and granddaughter Kate were with me and joined in singing the old emancipation melodies. In fact, my daughter, though still a young woman, was one of the veterans, for this history shows that for several years before the war she was singing these songs of freedom with me.

The proceedings opened with prayer by Rev. William H. Fish. President Putnam then said he had requested the Hutchinsons to repeat some of the very words and music that so thrilled the old anti-slavery meetings for so many years, and in so many places at home and abroad, but that first I would sing a song I had especially prepared for the occasion, adapted to a tune of my own. He hoped I would preface it with a few reminiscences. To quote the report:

Mr. Hutchinson then came forward and made the following remarks, addressed particularly to his former associates, after which he sung "Few, Faithful and True," accompanied in the chorus by his daughter, Mrs. Viola Hutchinson Campbell, and his granddaughter, Miss Kate Campbell. He said:

"Dear Friends:   This is an impressive occasion and a momentous review. We bid you all a hearty welcome. To the few veterans whose lives have dwindled to so short a span, let me say, we congratulate you that one more opportunity is offered that will yield sacred remembrance throughout the many years during which we labored in the vineyard of good-will to all mankind.

"Your joys are full and our hearts are made glad this day, even though it should chance to be the last. We meet here upon ground sacred to the memory of our ancestors, who, two hundred and fifty

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years ago, settled and cultivated this soil, deriving title from the aborigines, who had so recently vacated their corn fields and hunting grounds. Here seven generations bearing the name of Hutchinson, have followed in due succession. From this place heroes of that and many another family went forth to the defence of liberty and were among the bravest at the battles of Lexington and Bunker Hill and in the struggles of the Revolution. We, who have lived since that day of sharp conflicts with the foes of freedom, have rejoiced to hear again the sound of emancipation. And now, in our old age, we assemble with our countrymen here and commemorate the events that established the fact that the nation could live with chattel slavery entirely eliminated, and right made triumphant.

"Familiar as household words shall be the names of Garrison, Rogers, Thompson, Phillips, Douglass, Weld, Quincy, Jackson, Burleigh, Sumner, Chase, Wilson, Birney, Brown, Foster, Kelley, May, Pillsbury, Putnam, Mott, Purvis, Chapman, McKim, Whittier, Abraham Lincoln and Lucy Stone with the Tribe of Jesse and full many others.

"The scenes and occurrences of anti-slavery days shall, in our social gatherings, be ever remembered. I cannot express, as I would, the sentiments I feel at such a gathering as this. The associations of half a century of experience mingle with these passing hours and fill me with delight, which I can only try to voice in song."

Mr. Hutchinson's spirited verses were sung with wonderful effect, and those who were present and who had heard him forty or fifty years before were kindled by him with the same enthusiasm as then and discovered no loss of his musical genius and electrifying power.

The original song was as follows:

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President Putnam then made an address of welcome, after which there were remarks by William Lloyd Garrison, son of the great agitator, who argued that the

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direct language of the Abolitionists was their tower of strength; that they were reformers, not politicians; Rev. Samuel May, the old organized Society's agent, full of interesting reminiscences of the anti-slavery epoch, Hon. M. M. Fisher, one of the leaders of the Liberty Party; George B. Bartlett, who read an original poem. Then we sang "Get off the Track," prefacing it with a history of its composition by Brother Jesse. Then speaking followed by Hon. Parker Pillsbury, who said this was the proudest and happiest day of his life, and gave an interesting view of his life-work. We followed this with "There's no such word as fail," a song written by George W. Putnam, and set to music by Brother Asa, after which another song was called for. George T. Downing, of Newport, who represented the colored people in the meeting, arose and said:

In conversation with Mr. Hutchinson in the early stages of this meeting, we carried ourselves back to a building in the city of New York where the members and friends of the anti-slavery association used to assemble annually. At one of these gatherings a notorious man, by the name of Rynders, came there with his associates to break up the meeting. I was one of the number present. Mr. Hutchinson and his noble band sat in the gallery. The meeting became a complete scene of disorder, owing to the interruption of Rynders and his gang. Without any announcement, the Hutchinsons arose in the audience, or rather in the gallery, and with their sweet voices completely tamed the wild beast, as I recall him on that occasion. They are about to give us the song which they sang then.

Following Mr. Downing's remarks, I said:

It was not always convenient for us to be announced from the stage. We would manage to get among the audience, and when opportunity came to do our duty, we would do it. We did it on that occasion. It makes me feel like shedding tears of joy that we were privileged to serve and even to suffer for the great cause of emancipation. We were once with William Lloyd Garrison at Portland, and when the mob was so noisy that nothing could be heard, he remained silent, as they would not allow him to speak, and turned and asked us to sing. We arose

"We followed this with There's no such word as fail":   I have this song as "Ridden by the Slave Power," lyrics: George W. Putnam, tune: "Benny Havens," first line: "Ridden by the slave power, Crushed beneath the chain."

"In conversation with Mr. Hutchinson in the early stages":   The building alluded to by George T. Downing was the Broadway Tabernacle. Many of the Hutchinsons greatest trials and triumphs happened at the old Broadway Tabernacle.

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and sung this very song. I would state that, of the two members of my family who are with me to-day, my daughter takes the place of my dear sister who was with me singing recently at the burial of our beloved John G. Whittier, who has gone to his glorious home above; and her husband wrote me a letter which I received just before I came, in which he says, "Abby and myself cannot be with you, yet we will be with you in spirit," and I believe it is so. We will sing, friends, "Over the Mountain and over the Moor," or "The Slave's Appeal."

Rev. George W. Porter, D.D., of Lexington, then told the story of the mobbing of Garrison by the kid-gloved pro-slavery men of Boston. Mrs. Lucy Stone then paid a glowing tribute to Abby Kelley Foster, and her efforts to talk for abolition in the face of the opposition to women on the platform and detailed some of her own experiences in the same direction; Abby Morton Diaz followed, giving her recollections of the devotion to the cause that made it such a delightful thing to be an anti-slavery girl.   Rev. Aaron Porter, son of Hathorne Porter, one of the "Seven Stars" of the anti-slavery days in Danvers, told the story of their meetings. George W. Putnam, of Lynn, a cousin of Edwin Percy Whipple, the essayist, and a family connection of Joshua R. Giddings, for a while private secretary to Charles Dickens, a constant contributor of anti-slavery poems, articles and reports to the Liberator, and who once acted as business agent for the trio of brothers in the West, writing "pioneer" letters from Hutchinson, Minn., made a fine speech in eulogy of the leaders in the agitation, all of whom he knew intimately. George T. Downing spoke of the political phase of the reform and made a declaration of his own principles, which evoked loud applause.   Rev. Peter Randolph, born a slave, made the closing address, remarking that the settlement of the race problem lay in applying the principle of the father of God and the brotherhood

"I would state that, of the two members of my family":   This passage, which refers to a moment in an 1893 event, strangely reads as though it pertains, instead, to 1892.  John quoted Ludlow Patton as saying, "Abby and myself cannot be with you. . . . "   Abby Hutchinson Patton died the previous year, 1892.  Did this allusion to her, as though she was living still in 1893, result from an error of memory of some sort on John's part?   It is sufficiently documented in Ludlow Patton's Hutchinson Family Scrapbook and in other sources that Ludlow and members of his family were converted to spiritualism in 1893.  Is this, perhaps, an early reference to that conversion?   It would be my guess.

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of man. We sang once or twice more and closed our part of the exercises with the "Old Granite State."

Within a week of the Danvers meeting, I had started for the West and the World's Fair. I went to Wheaton, Ill., where I had before spent many happy days with my old friends Rufus Blanchard and wife, and took quarters with them. May 1st I joined with the hundreds of thousands in the chorus of the opening of the great exposition in Chicago, heard the President in his speech and realized the beginning of important events so well inaugurated. After a few days there, and a few visits to friends and relatives, I took a trip to Minnesota to take care of business interests that demanded immediate attention. While there I appeared in concert in Hutchinson, and sold several lots, some of them on the main street, the papers speaking of them as the most important sale in a long time.

Early in June I returned to Wheaton and Chicago, and then commenced a pleasant experience, lasting for months. When the round of sight-seeing became wearisome, there was the temporary home to retire to, and the rest of a few days would refresh me for new experiences. It would be impossible to chronicle all the pleasant surprises caused by meeting the friends of bygone days. There were to be found on any day, and at almost every turn, men and women often whom I had not seen since the days of the family quartet, or of the trio of brothers which succeeded it. Some were from foreign lands, and renewed friendships formed in the '40's. Then many new friends were made, which will never be forgotten while memory lasts. Asa's son, Oliver Dennett Hutchinson, with his wife, were in the company on the trip from Hutchinson, and I met them often during their stay in Chicago. My first call after

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my arrival at the grounds was on Frederick Douglass, commissioner for Hayti. The 17th of June was Massachusetts Day. The handsome old Colonial State Building was dedicated, the Sons and Daughters of the Revolution assisting in the affair. The opening exercises were held in the music hall, Governor Russell of Massachusetts, Dr. Chauncey M. Depew, Judge H. M. Shepard, General Horace Porter and other notables being prominent in the assembly. At 10.30 the exercises opened, I being introduced to sing "The Sword of Bunker Hill," the well-known composition of my friend Covert. I prefaced the song by reciting a few appropriate lines:

"Hail to the land on which we tread":   These verses are from "New England" by James Gates Percival.

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Rev. Dr. Parsons then offered prayer, and Dr. Depew, president of the New York Society of the Sons of the Revolution, was introduced as the orator. There was a great uproar as he stepped to the front. He said:

I want to excuse myself for being late, but the fact is, I got lost in the crowd and hearing of your rapid transit decided to try some, and so took a wheeled chair. Well, that boy told me all about himself, his family and the War of the Revolution, till I thought I would have to use a phonograph and send my speech to the hall that way.

It is peculiarly appropriate that to-day we listen to "The Sword of Bunker Hill," from the man whose father was in the Revolution. Most of us are either grandchildren, or great-grandchildren, or some other distant relative of those heroes. But here is a man who is distinctly connected with that period. One of my earliest recollections was going with my mother to a concert by the Hutchinson Family, and hearing that gentleman sing who has sung to-day, and I must say that he looks now as he did then.

It is mighty appropriate that we meet to-day on the anniversary of the battle of Bunker Hill. This battle was one of the smallest of the war, in so far as the number of men engaged were concerned and the number slain, but it was fraught with more importance than any other battle of the Revolution.

It was the most useless battle, yet most useful conflict ever fought. The little band of farmers knew they could not conquer Boston. There was a great issue at stake on both sides. The Continentals were determined to prove that the colonists would not dare fight. When the British were routed three times and Washington heard the news, he said: "The liberty of America is assured."

The battle of Bunker Hill created the Republic. Patriotism is not a sentiment that is not to be used in everyday life except in an emergency. In the hurry of everyday life we are apt to forget sentiment and patriotism. We, the descendants of the revolutionary soldiers, have been building States for a hundred years. The issues that existed when the battle of Bunker Hill was fought do not exist to-day, but there are issues, and there will be new ones to-morrow.

There are no dudes among the Revolutionary stock; they are all workingmen, knowing that the gospel of work is the gospel of Christ.  They built States with the corner-stone - the Bible.  The "sword of Bunker Hill" has been turned into plow-shares; it has been turned into rails, cables and electric wires; into plates that protect our ships, and it has made the ribs of the structures that comprise this "White City."

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"The Sword of Bunker Hill" speaks by every rail that girds this country, by every wire across the prairies and under the waters, by every improvement in this great continent; let it be our cloud by day and our pillar of fire by night, leading us in that pathway marked out for us by the heroes of the Revolution.

I have quoted the Chicago News' report of the speech, which evoked tremendous enthusiasm.   I need not say how much it pleased me to have been able to sing the song which proved the key-note for such an outburst of impromptu oratory. Later in the day, Commissioner Hovey, Gov. Russell and other notables held a reception in the John Hancock Building. The Daughters of the Revolution also gave a banquet to the invited guests.   I was treated with the utmost courtesy.

The 19th of June was California Day, and I was invited to participate in the dedication of the State Building.   "O.D.," as Asa's son is affectionately termed in the family, sang with me, and we gave the song the trio of brothers used to sing in the days of the forty-niners, "Ho for California."   I had a very pleasant conversation with General Miles, I remember. Two days later I saw the big Ferris wheel start. On the 24th the Hayti Building was opened.   I quote a short description of the ceremonies from a Chicago paper:

Hayti is for the first time represented as a nation in a World's Fair. Its building was formally opened on the 24th. The exercises were very appropriately opened with a song, "The Millennium," by dear old John Hutchinson, who has so often sung in the cause of the freedom of the black people as he now sung their triumph. Frederick Douglass and his fellow-commissioner, Mr. Preston, were assisted in receiving the guests by Mrs. Douglass.   Mr. Douglass's address was received with frequent applause, and he was eloquent when he said of this Exposition, "It stands at the topmost height to which science and Christianity have upborne the world. No such demonstration could have taken place in the presence of slavery and war. Its white walls speak of liberty and human brotherhood to all nations, kindreds, tongues and peoples."

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I had only the intervening Sabbath in which to rest before New Hampshire day came, the 26th. The State Building was dedicated by a speech from Governor Smith, after which I was called upon to sing. Of course there was but one song with which I could respond  -  that one which so many of the Tribe of Jesse sang together at the dedication of the New Hampshire Building during the Philadelphia Centennial, "The Old Granite State."   The applause was as warm as that given us all on that other notable day. There was a great hand-shaking after it was over. It was a very hot day, and singing was wearisome indeed.

I found Wheaton a little too far away from the Fair, and so early in July moved into the city, taking rooms on Michigan Avenue. On the 3d of July I sang in the buildings of four different States. The Fourth was a great day. I sat on the platform facing five hundred thousand people. Commissioner Davis presided, and Mayor Carter Harrison spoke. Rain interfered with the programme, and I did not sing "Yankee Doodle," as I had expected. I sought refuge in the New York Building, and there found such old friends as Mrs. Isabella Beecher Hooker, Mrs. Carpenter, Mrs. Ives, and others, and sang to them. July 10th was Pennsylvania Day. Governor Pattison gave a reception in the State Building, and there was speaking.   I sang "Uncle Sam's Farm." Several days of alternate rest and activity followed.

At about this time the Chicago Opinion kindly referred to me as follows:

John Hutchinson, the only surviving member of the celebrated Hutchinson Family, is a guest at the Millard Avenue Hotel. Mr. Hutchinson is an aged man, and most patriarchal in appearance, but is one of the youngest men to be found in manners and conversation. His reminiscences

"Rain interfered with the programme, and I did not sing Yankee Doodle":   While it is entirely possible that "Yankee Doodle," as used here, refers to the song we all know by that name, it was very common that, when the Hutchinsons mentioned "Yankee Doodle," they had in mind a song from their early concert repertoire, "The Origin of Yankee Doodle."

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of the old anti-slavery days, when the quartet, consisting of himself, his brothers Asa and Judson, and sister Abby, electrified the North with their songs of freedom, are most interesting and are well remembered by those who were living away back in the '40's and '50's. Mr. Hutchinson still finds himself in active demand upon public occasions, he having sung at World's Fair, New Hampshire and also Bunker Hill Day, and more recently before the Single Tax Club. The son of Mr. Hutchinson was the first husband of Mrs. Rev. Henry Morgan, daughter of the late Isaac S. Phillips.

I had just made my headquarters at the Millard Avenue Hotel at the time this notice was written. I made this my stopping-place practically all the time after that, until I came East again. Early in August the Peace Congress was held, this, of course, attracting my sympathy and presence. On the 15th of August I sung the "People's Advent" for the Liberal Congress at the Art Memorial Palace. On the 18th I sung and spoke for the peace people in the same place. On the 19th Lillie, with her husband, Rev. Mr. Morgan, and my grandsons Jack and Richard, arrived. Cleveland Campbell, another grandson, came on from Lynn about this time, and Kate also came. I contracted the habit of spending a good deal of time in the California Building. The matron, Mrs. Smith, was a sister of my dear friend E. R. Brown, of Elmwood, Ill., and through her kindness I held many receptions in the building, Lillie, Jack and Rich singing with me. Lillie's brother, Fred Phillips, who has a fine bass voice, also sung with us sometimes. I think I have mentioned that Mr. Morgan was a travelling evangelist. He secured a large gospel wagon, with sufficient sleeping accommodations for the whole family, when occasion required, and so arranged that the organ could be set up at the rear end to serve both as a musical instrument and pulpit. His method in Chicago was to locate the wagon at some point of vantage, after which

"Mr. Hutchinson still finds himself in active demand":   This is the earliest item I recall seeing that connects John W. Hutchinson with the cause of Henry George, the Single Tax Clubs being made up of Henry George devotees.

"The son of Mr. Hutchinson was the first husband":   Isaac Phillips had only recently died, and this sad event called Lillie Morgan home from her West Coast campaigning with her husband, the Rev. Henry Morgan, and her sons, Jack and Richard D. Hutchinson.

"Cleveland Campbell, another grandson, came on from Lynn":   This is a remarkable Hutchinson family gathering. After 1893, things did not exactly go uniformly well for John W. Hutchinson. But grandchildren Cleaveland and Kate Campbell and Jack and Richard Hutchinson were among the most consistently positive forces in John's life.

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Jack would blow a fan-fare on his cornet, which would soon attract a congregation. Lillie and the boys would then sing, after which Mr. Morgan would preach. This method of work they have carried out in various sections of the country, spending much of their time in the South for some years.

August 25th was Colored People's Day. The following report, clipped from the News, will show what the exercises were:

There was a big meeting of both white and colored people in Columbus Hall in the evening. A feature of the session was an essay by Rev. Joseph Cook on "African Civilization," read by Rev. Dr. F. A. Noble, of Chicago. Mr. Cook vigorously denounced the liquor traffic, which is thrust upon the native Africans by England, America, and other civilized nations. He ventured to prophesy that when the centennial anniversary of Abraham Lincoln's proclamation is being celebrated in 1963 the colored population in America will number 40,000,000, while the whites will number 100,000,000, and before that time comes, the negro's full rights as a citizen will have been conceded. John W. Hutchinson, the only surviving member of the famous Hutchinson Family, whose songs of liberty thrilled the land thirty years ago, was introduced, and sung one of his inimitable songs. Miss Hallie J. Brown recited "The Black Regiment," and Mr. Talley, one of the Jubilee singers, sung "The Huntsman's Horn."   A paper on "The Congo State and the Redemption of Africa," by Dr. J. A. Casson, was read.

On August 29th, I sung at the Memorial Hall, at a meeting in which Henry George and Dr. McGlynn were speakers.

Early in September, I went to Lafayette, Ind., to visit my friend, Helen M. Gougar, the temperance orator. My arrival was announced by the Journal of that place, under the flattering heading, "A Noted Visitor," as follows:

Lafayette is honored by the presence of a noted man whose name was familiar to the American public when our parents were young. John W. Hutchinson, the last of the well-known Hutchinson family of singers, is the guest of Mr. and Mrs. John D. Gougar. The Hutchinsons,

"This method of work they have carried out in various sections":   The Morgans did, indeed, take their evangelical work into the South sometime after this.

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whose voices were first uplifted for liberty and universal freedom fully fifty years ago, need no introduction to the people who have honored them so long.

Garrison, Phillips, May, Sumner and Hutchinson blend naturally together.  "There are four quartets of that family, each with three brothers and a sister in it," wrote Mary Howitt.  But to-day there sings but one. His voice is as mellow and strong as though no seventy-third milestone of life lay before him. In his home in Boston he is known as "Father Hutchinson" and "Uncle John," and whenever his beautiful patriarchal face is seen it is met with reverence and love.

The history of anti-slavery times is indelibly blent with the Hutchinson family, and how much their stirring songs did to educate anti-slavery sentiment cannot be estimated. It is a liberal education to listen to the conversation of the grand old patriarch, and time passes unnoticed when one is hearing his eloquently told memories of olden times. Lafayette bids welcome to the last remaining member of the famous Hutchinson family.

The days spent with Mr. and Mrs. Gougar were happy indeed. Receptions were arranged, and on one night there was a lawn party in my honor. To my great regret, I had taken a slight cold, which made me hoarse, so that I was unable to sing as well as I wished.   I had an idea that in going to Indiana I should secure a few days of absolute rest, after the excitement of the preceding weeks. In this I was disappointed, but could not complain, after such a pleasant reception and the friendly attentions I received.

I returned to Chicago on the 8th of September, and on the following day participated in the reunion of the Forty-niners in the California Building. The great religious congress opened at the Art Institute two days later.   I need not say how gratified I was with these meetings. There was but one common ground upon which all these diverse religions could have met, and that was that of my song, which we had sung for so many years, the "Fatherhood of God and the Brotherhood of Man."   Rev. Dr. Lorimer, returning to Boston

"The great religious congress opened at the Art Institute":   Yogi Berra's great saying, "It ain't over 'til it's over," must be adapted here because it ain't necessarily over even then. For Americans at least, the World's Parliament of Religions was one of the great events of the century. But it was carried on in a sense, in later years, in the Green Acre Conferences and, really, in the entire Green Acre experience at Eliot, Maine, led by John W. Hutchinson's friends of the Farmer family. John was personal friends with Sarah Jane Farmer. I have seen a couple of pictures of them together, one with a dog. John must have known Sarah Jane's father, Moses Gerrish Farmer. It would be hard to imagine otherwise, though, of course, anything's possible.

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from the parliament of religions commented upon it by saying, "The parliament of religions is entitled to commendation for the prominence given in its sessions to the fatherhood of God, and the brotherhood of man. This doctrine seemed to be the key-note of its meetings. Humanity itself spoke in address, article and wild enthusiasm, and has thus for the first time openly and publicly avowed its belief in its own brotherhood.   Two articles of the ultimate faith  -  the fatherhood of God, and the brotherhood of man  -  have been considered and passed on by humanity, and shall never be annulled."   I sang my song several times at these meetings.

During this week I sang at a Universalist assembly "Which way is your musket a-pintin' to-day?" by request of my genial friend, Rev. Dr. Miner of Boston. On Sunday, the 17th, I sang at the Sixth Presbyterian church, two selections, Rev. George Washburn, D.D., president of Roberts College, Constantinople, being the speaker. On the 21st I spent the day in Jackson Park with Jack and Rich, securing a wheeled chair, in which my grandsons pushed me all over the park. A shower came up towards night, and it was a sight to see 200,000 people scurrying for shelter. We got wet, and I was pretty stiff the next day. On the Sunday following, in company with Rev. Mr. Morgan, I went to hear my old friend Moody preach. On the 29th Mr. Morgan held evangelistic meetings in a hall, and I joined him and sang a solo, and also "Mary at the Cross" with Lillie.   On the same day I mounted  -  in an elevator  -  to the roof of the sightly Masonic Temple, twenty stories high.   On Sunday, October 1st, I sang for the W.C.T.U. in their beautiful temple. On the 3d I sang in Evanston. The 5th was Rhode Island Day, and I sang "One Hundred Years Hence"

"On the Sunday following, in company with Rev. Mr. Morgan":   In Story of the Hutchinsons, John addressed hundreds and probably thousands of topics or - more.   So except for grand themes from his life's work - vocal harmony, temperance, antislavery - it is unrealistic to expect him to hit on any one subject a lot of times. He was simply all over the place. Taking this into account and considering that John had limited opportunities - John and the Morgans were most often based in different parts of the country from one another, including being on opposite coasts for years - it is illuminating how often he spoke of going someplace or to some event in the company of the Rev. Henry Morgan both with and evidently sometimes without Lillie. We may safely surmise that John and Rev. Morgan became good friends.

"On the 29th Mr. Morgan held evangelistic meetings in a hall":   The way John and his editor emphasized riding in an elevator, by setting it off with em-dashes, as it was done in the hardcopy book, is but one concrete example of the much broader point that the World's Columbian Exposition, commonly called the 1893 Chicago World's Fair, was one vast display of wonders, not all of which were necessarily on the exposition grounds.   People of John's generation saw massive change, from Jacksonian democracy to the rise of sectionalism, the growing antislavery movement, the Civil War, Reconstruction, the most protracted economic depression in American history (then known as "The Great Depression," which is not to be confused with a like and similarly-named event of the 1930s), the Industrial Revolution, and much, much more.   The World's Columbian Exposition is thought to have marked the closing of the American frontier, and its sheer triumph placed one giant exclamation mark toward the end of a period of astonishing change. John must have been beside himself the whole time.

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in the State Building. On the same day I was happy to meet the widow of my nephew Hayward Hutchinson, with her daughter, from Washington. Such meetings were sorrowfully suggestive of loved ones gone, but nevertheless pleasant.   "Chicago Day" came on the 9th. The gathering was immense, and the enthusiasm as great as the numbers.   I was on the ground at 6.13 a.m., and did not reach home until 2 o'clock the next morning. Perhaps an old boy like myself may be excused for being rather weary the next day. The 13th was Minnesota Day. Of course I had to be there. Attended the governor's reception and other exercises, and sang four songs. On the following Sunday, the 15th, I sang to a Sunday-school of waifs at Washington Hall. On the 19th there was a memorial service at the Art Institute for Lucy Stone.   I sang and addressed the meeting. On the same day I sang "Vote it right along" for another gathering of suffragists. Susan B. Anthony was among the speakers of the day. On the next day I had a number of joyful meetings with old friends. First, I met Mrs. T. C. Severance, now of Los Angeles, Cal., and had an hour of precious conversation, concerning old times and old friends. Then I ran across Lucius B. Hutchinson with his wife and daughter. On the way home in the car, a lad of twelve politely arose, the conveyance being crowded, and gave me his seat. At once I entered into conversation with his father, sitting by my side, and soon discovered him to be the son of Rev. Mr. Stearns, pastor of the Baptist church in Milford during my young manhood. His mother died, and the heart-broken husband was compelled to give up house-keeping, holding an auction of his household effects. I told the son that I was the possessor of the cradle in which he was

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rocked, which I bought at that sale, and also of a handsome cherry table, which stood in the parsonage parlor, and on which, by the way, I am now writing.

Notes by Alan Lewis