The new Geocities ads on the right side of your browser window can be pushed offscreen by clicking on the tab that's marked by a couple "greater than" symbols ( >> ).   We recommend doing it once the page is loaded. If clearing the ads loses your place on the page, scroll up.

Abby was a capable writer, as shown by her letters and by short items in Ludlow's scrapbook.  But she lacked the confidence, patience, or both needed for longer, more formal pieces.   "I wish I could get some work done on the history,"  she told John.  "Have the notes, but want some one to put them together in right form."  So for a book of her own, she gathered together some of her favorite short writings.  She published it at her own expense, and nearly all copies would be distributed by Abby and Ludlow.  Up to this time, her project was a secret.  However, there was a small flaw in her plan.  Harry Campbell had learned bookbinding in Santa Fé, and he was engaged in that trade while studying law.  By coincidence, the job of binding A Handful of Pebbles was placed in his hands.  Harry read Abby's cover letter, which said that none of her family or friends were to find out about her book as it was to be a surprise.  She got a surprise of her own, when she received a letter from Harry, explaining what had happened.

Page 9

On May 27, Abby sent John her book.   "I tell Ludlow I expect this and  'Ring Out Wild Bells'  will be my last will and testament to my relatives."  Late that year, she told John,  "I have had numerous requests to sell my book or to place it where it could be bought; so far have preferred to give it away."

The other item Abby mentioned was a new song.   Like her book, it found its way beyond her family circle.  At a later date, Judson's daughter Kate said,  "For a number of years my boys and I have sung that piece, 'Ring out wild bells,' at midnight of the old year.  We would time our selves so that we would sing 'Ring in the new,' just as the new year came in."  "It was paid the high compliment,"  said the Portland Transcript's Caroline Dana Howe the next year,  "of being played upon the chime bells of Trinity church in New York city last Christmas to a hushed audience of admiring thousands crowding the streets in every direction."

On July 2, the Pattons left New York for New England with their frequent travel companions, Marion and Helen McKeever.  "Providence, and the Providence boat, permitting,"  wrote Abby,  "our little band will leave New York on Thursday for Boston.  We will go to the United States Hotel, where we will stay until we decide whether we go North, East, South or West."  They spent the Fourth of July in Lynn with John and his family, and stayed nearby much of the month, visiting resort towns and seeing points of interest.  Their travels led them to the homestead in Milford in late August.  Abby wrote that the piano was  "going from morn to dewy eve."  In a letter to John,  she said,  "This old house is worthy of being preserved for centuries after we are gone."

In her letters from this period, Abby liked to tell about the concerts and lectures she and Ludlow attended.  Back in April, they heard Annie Besant.  On November 4, they went to Carnegie Music Hall to hear English poet Sir Edwin Arnold give his first reading in the United States.

Abby's letters had long spoken of her illnesses and of battles with chronic fatigue.   By this time, they also mentioned pain.  Still she kept up her reading, social calls, and other activities.  "There is so much to live for yet,"  she wrote,  "when we are out of pain."  On a warm November day, she and Ludlow took a walk in Central Park, followed by a row around the lake.

Early in 1892, Abby was working on the family history, while locating illustrations.  She asked Mary Howitt if she knew what became of a watercolor made in England.  Later, a package came; and to Abby's surprise, the painting was inside.  "There we are, just as we stood in 1846, for our pictures.  Our names are all written in our own handwriting, directly beneath the figures. . . .   This will complete my list of pictures, which I am having prepared for printing.  Cheer up; we will have a book yet."

Page 10

John was planning a trip to Minnesota, and Abby asked him to stop by on his way.   Her letters from these years show instances of bossiness.  Though her writings were full of humor, she may have been quite serious when she said,  "Be sure to come, and do not disappoint me, for life is short, and time is fleeting.  We soon will be beyond the river.  So come.  Answer me at once."

On June 2, John went to Worcester, where he sang  "Ridden by the Rum Power"  at a Prohibition Party convention.  Then he left for Minnesota.  He had business in Hutchinson, and he wanted to attend the Republican National Convention in Minneapolis.  Spending much time with Dennett, John found the convention to be exciting.  Once he arrived in Hutchinson, he got down to work.  Then on his way home, he stopped at Chicago to look over the grounds of the upcoming World's Columbian Exposition.

Abby and Ludlow supported Benjamin Harrison for president; but that fall, John "fell into line," singing and campaigning for the Prohibition Party.

On August 3, by the New Hampshire State House, a statue of John P. Hale was unveiled.   An audience of around 10,000 people crowded the grounds.  John was scheduled to sing a song he wrote with Walter Kittredge.  Frederick Douglass was seated on the platform, and George W. Putnam wrote new verses for the occasion.  "Douglass,"  said John,  "caused great merriment by saying he supposed he was only present to lend color to the occasion, and though entirely unprepared, made one of the great speeches of the day."  Abby and Ludlow had been vague about their summer plans, so they surprised John when they turned up in Concord.

When the principal orator fainted, the presiding officer asked the Hutchinsons if they would sing a few antislavery songs.  The quartet that formed was certainly one of the most interesting Hutchinson Family groups ever  -  John Hutchinson, Abby and Ludlow Patton, and Frederick Douglass.  Of course, John, Abby, and Ludlow had sung together often as a trio; and fortunately their distinguished friend was quite familiar with their material, having shared the platform with the Hutchinsons on countless occasions.  People in the audience were described as spellbound, as this impromptu company entertained for half an hour.

Meanwhile, Lillie's family was busy in the West.   An article in the Stockton Republican called John  "the famous evangelist and singer"  and said the original group  "traveled over America and Europe and through other parts of the world, singing, preaching and praying."

Page 11

Jack and Richard  "appear to be developing the vocal abilities of their immediate ancestors. . . .   Mrs. Morgan is an exceptionally fine singer.  On Hunter square last night she sang 'Mozart's Twelfth Mass,' 'Gloria in Excelsis,' the 'Creed of the Bells,' 'Where is my Wandering Boy Tonight,' and other selections very beautifully.  They occupy a platform wagon and Mrs. Morgan accompanies their voices with a small organ."

The Pattons visited the Milford homestead, sometime after their stay in Concord.   In past letters, Abby wrote about the wide variety of vegetables, fruits, cheeses, and other nutritious and tasty foods in her diet.  Now she was writing,  "I live mostly on oat-meal gruel.  It is good for everybody."

On September 7, John G. Whittier died.   His funeral took place on a fine autumn day, and the simple ceremony was held in his garden.  John and Abby sang  "Lay Him Low"  and  "We Are Almost Home,"  Ludlow joining in on the choruses.  "[T]he song they sang today,"  said the Boston Globe,  "was like an echo from the time long gone by. . . . "   Abby placed a bouquet of wild flowers on the poet's grave, along with a small pine tree from the homestead.

A week later, John and Walter Kittredge went to Washington for the national encampment of the Grand Army of the Republic.  They sang often, and Kittredge sold many copies of a gift-book edition of  "Tenting on the Old Camp Ground."  They lingered in Washington for a while, and it was well into October before they got home.  Soon after this, Kittredge suffered a disabling accident, which  -  along with his age  -  severely limited his ability to travel widely and sing at great public gatherings.

In October, Abby and Ludlow left New York for Boston.   After they arrived, Abby asked John to come for a visit.  "I have a cold,"  she said,  "but hope soon to conquer it."  She was put on bed rest for a few days and then went to see John, reaching Lynn on the 30th.  Her appearance must have been startling, for John wrote in his diary,  "Abby will not stay long in this world."

The following night in a dream, Abby composed a song about the hours passing fast away, which was taken by some to be a prediction of her own death.  It was apparent by this time that she was in no condition to travel at her usual pace.  John went to Boston on November 2 to dine with Abby and Ludlow.  They sang  "Come Let Us Part."  The next day, the Pattons returned to New York.

Page 12

Abby sought treatment, as she had before, at Dr. Taylor's Improved Movement Cure Institute, and she and Ludlow took rooms nearby.   In a letter to John on Sunday, November 13, 1892, she wrote,  "If I get better I promise to do some work, if very little."   "To the more observant of Mrs. Patton's many friends,"  said the Farmers' Cabinet,  "it was evident that she was far from being in perfect health but there were very few of the number who realized how little physical strength or power of endurance she really possessed, or how soon the silver cord might be loosened, and the announcement that she had been stricken down by appoplexy on Nov. 13th, shocked and deeply pained hundreds of friends. . . . "

Abby had lost all power of speech, and her friends and family feared the worst.   A couple days later, she showed improvement; but hope faded when she suffered a second stroke, even though it was followed by another partial recovery.  On Thursday evening, November 24, 1892, Abby Hutchinson Patton died.

Though her health was fragile through her adult years, Abby lived a storybook life in most other respects.  Her musical talent allowed her to do much to make the world a better place.  She and Ludlow enjoyed great happiness, and her marriage lasted as long as she lived.  Abby had the love of a large family and countless friends.  In the last couple years, she had the joy of giving her little book of verses and sayings to her dear ones; and it pleased her greatly that others took up her song,  "Ring Out, Wild Bells."  Abby had long known that her hold on life was but a slender thread.  It is doubtful she expected to live as long as she did.  With the dawn of each day, it must have been a thrill just to be alive.  And when it was time to go, she seemed to be ready.

Newspapers across the country paid tribute to Abby's life and character.   "Historians,"  said the New York Evening Sun,  "may not be able to estimate the exact value of the many influences that led to the final overwhelming opposition to slavery, but any that neglects to include the Hutchinson Family, and the fair-haired girl whose death is announced this morning, will omit one of the most graceful yet potent influences of the seed time of earlier days."  This, of course, speaks to Abby's public career going back half a century.  The Farmers' Cabinet added that

Page 13

Elizabeth Cady Stanton said the first time she saw Abby "was on the platform with her four stalwart brothers in old Faneuil Hall.  It was in a crowded anti-slavery meeting presided over by a howling mob.  Neither the fiery eloquence of Garrison, nor the persuasive silvery tones of Phillips could command a moment's hearing, but the Hutchinson's sweet songs of freedom were listened to in breathless silence. . . .   Abby with her youth and beauty and her sweet, unaffected manners won all hearts."

Joshua called his youngest sister "the innocent, affable, genial, loving, charming Abby, the household pet.  A peculiar charm hung about her existence."   "She was truly the charm of the young Quartette, as from city to city, and from state to state, did they fly to minister to the growing desire of a young nation to patronize home talent, home culture and natural music."

Two funerals were arranged for Abby, to accommodate her many friends around New York and in New England.  John and Abby each expected to be outlived by the other; and they each promised, if wrong, to sing at the other's funeral.  In New York, John sang  "The Lord Is My Shepherd,"  "No Tear in Heaven,"  and  "We Are Almost Home."  Services were held, too, at Milford's Unitarian Church on November 29.

Abby was buried,  as she requested,  at the family cemetery on North River Road in Milford.

Over the next few months, John sang often  -  at funerals, at memorial services for Whittier, at a meeting of the Grand Army of the Republic at Faneuil Hall in Boston, and at Lynn High School.  In February, he gave a concert in Spencer, Massachusetts; in March, he gave another in Lancaster, New Hampshire.

On April 26, 1893, John, Viola, and her daughter Kate sang in a program of the Danvers Historical Society called  "Old Anti-Slavery Days."  "Of all the reunions of the Abolitionists in late years,"  said John,  "this was the most interesting."  That, in fact, was the plan all along.  The invitation said,  "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."

Within a week of the meeting in Danvers, John left for the World's Columbian Exposition at Chicago, in company with his housekeeper.  On May 1, he attended the opening ceremony and listened to the president's speech.  During the fair, John renewed his acquaintance with old friends, including many he had not seen since well before the war.  Dennett and Nellie came down from Hutchinson, and John saw much of them during their stay.

Page 14

John sang on special days honoring Massachusetts, Minnesota, New Hampshire, and several other states.  He sang with Dennett on California Day, and took part in a reunion of Forty-Niners.  On Independence Day, he was one of those on the platform, facing a crowd a half a million strong.

John sang for the Single Tax Club.   Early in August, he attended the Peace Congress; and on the 15th he sang  "The People's Advent"  at the Liberal Congress.

On August 19, Lillie arrived.   John said that Rev. Morgan  "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 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. . . . "

About this same time,  Cleaveland and Kate Campbell arrived.

John held a number of receptions in the California building,  singing with Lillie and her boys,  along with her younger brother Fred Phillips,  a bass singer.

John sang at the fair seemingly on countless occasions, often with Lillie.   On the 29th, he sang at a meeting in Memorial Hall, with Henry George and Father Edward McGlynn as featured speakers.  On September 11, the first World's Parliament of Religions opened at the Art Institute.  He sang  "The Fatherhood of God and the Brotherhood of Man"  several times.

On September 21, John spent the day at Jackson Park with Jack and Richard.   "A shower came up towards night,"  he said,  "and it was a sight to see 200,000 people scurrying for shelter."  On the 29th, he got the thrill of going to the top of the twenty-story Masonic Temple  -  in an elevator!

Chicago Day was held on October 9, and the crowd was easily the biggest yet.  John was on the grounds a little after 6 AM, and he didn't get back to his quarters until two in the morning.  On Manhattan Day, another of the fair's great events, John sang two songs.  Over the next few days attendance was up, for the fair was nearing its close.  On the final day, John was very busy, speaking and singing.

Page 15

John would attend other big fairs, but none would be quite like Chicago.  The list of old friends and family connections he saw is very long.  The Exposition provided new opportunities to entertain audiences, and he loved it.  He lingered in Chicago for another four weeks.  Friends suggested that he return to giving concert tours.  He liked what he heard.  John formed a company, including Lillie's brother Fred, and began rehearsing; but then he became quite sick, and thoughts of pneumonia and consumption came to mind.  So he went home, arriving the day before Thanksgiving.  The Campbells were back in Lynn, and Viola had a feast waiting for her father.  "The rest and regularity of home life,"  said John,  "soon restored me to my wonted good health."

While John was getting well,  he became acquainted with Mary E. McDonald,  an attractive young widow who boarded with one of his tenants.  McDonald said he mentioned to her his wish to get married.