Mr. Deming had a Letter from your Papa yesterday; he mention'd your Mama & you as indispos'd & Flavia as sick in bed. I'm at too great a distance to render you the least service, and were I near, too much out of health to--some part of the time--even speak
to you. I am seiz'd with exceeding weakness at the very seat of life, and to a greater degree than I ever before knew. Could I ride, it might help me, but that is an exercise my income will not permit. I walk out whenever I can. The day will surely come, when I must quit this frail tabernacle, and it may be soon--I certainly know, I am not of importance eno' in this world, for any one to wish my stay--rather am I, and so I consider myself as a cumberground. However xviii I shall abide my appointed time & I desire to be found waiting for my change.
Our family are well--had I time and spirits I could acquaint you of an expedition two sisters made to Dorchester, a walk begun at sunrise last thursday morning--dress'd in their dammasks, padusoy, gauze, ribbins, flapets, flowers, new white hats, white shades, and black leather shoes, (Pudingtons make) and finished journey, & garments, orniments, and all quite finish'd on Saturday, before noon, (mud over shoes) never did I behold such destruction in so short a space--bottom of padusoy coat fring'd quite round, besides places worn entire to floss, & besides frays, dammask, from shoulders to bottom, not lightly soil'd, but as if every part had rub'd tables and chairs that had long been us'd to wax mingl'd with grease. I could have cry'd, for I really pitied 'em--nothing left fit to be seen--They had leave to go, but it never entered any ones tho'ts but their own to be dressd in all (even to loading) of their best-- their all, as you know. What signifies it to worry ones selves about beings that are, and will be, just so? I can, and do pity and advise, but I shall git no credit by such like. The eldest talks much of learning dancing, musick (the spinet & guitar), embroidry, dresden, the xix French tongue &c &c. The younger with an air of her own, advis'd the elder when she first mention'd French, to learn first to read English, and was answered "law, so I can well eno' a'ready." You've heard her do what she calls reading, I believe. Poor creature! Well! we have a time of it!
If any one at Marshfield speaks of me remember me to them. Nobody knows I'm writing, each being gone their different ways, & all from home except the little one who is above stairs. Farewell my dear, I've wrote eno' I find for this siting.
Yr affect
Sarah Deming.
It does not need great acuteness to read between the lines of this letter an affectionate desire to amuse a delicate girl whom the
writer loved. The tradition in the Winslow family is that Anna Green Winslow died of consumption at Marshfield in the fall of 1779. There is no town or church record of her death, no known grave or headstone to mark her last resting-place. And to us she is not dead, but lives and speaks--always a loving, endearing little child; not so passionate and gifted and rare a creature as that star among children--Marjorie Fleming--but a natural xx and homely little flower of New England life; fated never to grow old or feeble or
dull or sad, but to live forever and laugh in the glamour of eternal happy youth through the few pages of her time-stained diary. Alice Morse Earle.
Brooklyn Heights, September, 1894. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
4
PAGE
Anna Green Winslow. From miniature now owned by Miss Elizabeth C. Trott, Niagara Falls, N.Y.Frontispiece. Facsimile of Writing of Anna Green Winslow. From original diary
1
Wedding Party in Boston in 1756. From tapestry now owned by American Antiquarian Society
20
General Joshua Winslow. From miniature painted by Copley, 1755, and now owned by Mrs. John F. Lindsey, Yorkville, S.C.
34
Ebenezer Storer. From portrait painted by Copley, now owned by Mrs. Lewis C. Popham, Scarsdale, N.Y.
45
Hannah Green Storer. From portrait painted by Copley, now owned by Mrs. Lewis C. Popham, Scarsdale, N.Y.
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Cut-Paper Picture. Cut by Mrs. Sarah Winslow Deming, now owned by James F. Trott, Esq., Niagara Falls, N.Y.
74
Transcription
1
DIARY OF ANNA GREEN WINSLOW.
1771-1773.
........
Lady, by which means I had a bit of the wedding cake. I guess I shall have but little time for journalising till after thanksgiving. My aunt Deming1 says I shall make one pye myself at least. I hope somebody beside myself will like to eat a bit of my Boston pye thou' my papa and you did not (I remember) chuse to partake of my Cumberland2 performance. I think I have been writing my own Praises this morning. Poor Job was forced to praise himself when no man would do him that justice. I am not as he was. I have made two shirts for unkle since I finish'd mamma's shifts.
Novr 18th, 1771.--Mr. Beacons3 text yesterday was Psalm cxlix. 4. For the 2 Lord taketh pleasure in his people; he will beautify the meek with salvation. His Doctrine was something like this, viz: That the Salvation of Gods people mainly consists in Holiness. The name Jesus signifies a Savior. Jesus saves his people from their Sins. He renews them in the spirit of their minds--writes his Law in their hearts. Mr. Beacon ask'd a question. What is beauty--or, wherein does true beauty consist? He answer'd, in holiness--and said a great deal about it that I can't remember, & as aunt says she hant leisure now to help me any further--so I may just tell you a little that I remember without her assistance, and that I repeated to her yesterday at Tea--He said he would lastly address himself to the young people: My dear young friends, you are pleased with beauty, & like to be tho't beautifull--but let me tell ye, you'l never be truly beautifull till you are like the King's daughter, all glorious within, all the orniments you can put on while your souls are unholy make you the more like white sepulchres garnish'd without, but full of deformyty within. You think me very unpolite 3 no doubt to
address you in this manner, but I must go a little further and tell you, how cource soever it may sound to your delicacy, that while you
are without holiness, your beauty is deformity--you are all over black & defil'd, ugly and loathsome to all holy beings, the wrath of
th' great God lie's upon you, & if you die in this condition, you will be turn'd into hell, with ugly devils, to eternity.
Nov. 27th.--We are very glad to see Mr. Gannett, because of him "we hear of your affairs & how you do"--as the apostle Paul once wrote. My unkle & aunt however, say they are sorry he is to be absent, so long as this whole winter, I think. I long now to have you come up--I want to see papa, mama, & brother, all most, for I cannot make any distinction which most--I should like to see Harry too. Mr. Gannett tells me he keeps a journal--I do want to see that--especially as Mr. Gannett has given me some specimens, as I may say of his "I and Aunt &c." I am glad Miss Jane is with you, I will write to her soon--Last monday I went with my aunt to visit Mrs. Beacon. I was 4 exceedingly pleased with the visit, & so I ought to be, my aunt says, for there was much notice taken of me, particylarly by Mr. Beacon. I think I like him better every time I see him. I suppose he takes the kinder notice of me, because last thursday evening he was here, & when I was out of the room, aunt told him that I minded his preaching & could repeat what he said--I might have told you that notwithstanding the stir about the Proclamatien, we had an agreable Thanksgiven. Mr. Hunt's4 text was Psa. xcvii. 1. The Lord reigneth,--let the earth rejoice. Mr. Beacon's text P M Psa. xxiv. 1. The earth is the Lord's & the fulness thereof. My unkle & aunt Winslow5 of Boston, their son & daughter, Master Daniel Mason (Aunt Winslows nephew from Newport, Rhode Island) & Miss Soley6 spent the evening with us. We