had anticipated did not fail to follow, but in a manner
which neither he nor any of his friends had foreseen.

At the hotel I had remarked a handsome man, evidently a Southerner, with
what appeared to me an evil expression of countenance. This was Brooks
of South Carolina, the man who, not long after this time, attacked
Charles Sumner in his seat in the senate chamber, choosing a moment when
the personal friends of his victim were not present, and inflicting upon
him injuries which destroyed his health and endangered his life. I will
not enlarge here upon the pain and distress which this event caused to
us and to the community at large. For several weeks our senator's life
hung in the balance. For a very much longer time his vacant seat in the
senate chamber told of the severe suffering which incapacitated him for
public work. This time of great trial had some compensation in the
general sympathy which it called forth. Sumner had won the crown of
martyrdom, and his person thenceforth became sacred, even to his
enemies.

It was after a residence of many years in Washington that Mr. Sumner
decided to build and occupy a house of his own. The spot chosen by him
was immediately adjoining the well-known Arlington Hotel. The house was
handsome and well appointed, adorned also with pictures and fine
bronzes, in both of which he took great delight. Dr. Howe and I were
invited to visit him there one evening, with other guests. Among these
was Caleb Cushing, with whom Mr. Sumner soon became engaged in an
animated discussion, probably regarding some question of the day. So
absorbed were the two gentlemen in their argument that each of them
frequently interrupted the other. The one interrupted would expostulate,
saying, "I have not finished what I have to say;" at which the other
would bow and apologize, but would presently offend again, in the same
way.

At my own house in Boston, Mr. Sumner called one evening when we were
expecting other company. The invited guests presently arrived, and he
abruptly left the room without any parting word or gesture. I afterwards
spoke of this to Dr. Howe, who said, "That is Sumner's idea of taking
French leave." Whereupon our dear eldest said, "Why, mamma, Mr. Sumner's
way of taking French leave is as if the elephant should undertake to
walk incognito down Broadway."

The last important act of Mr. Sumner's public life was the elaborate
argument by which he defeated the proposed annexation of