I received a letter from you some time last week. What a complete blunderer you are anyhow. But I had entirely forgotten that there were letters in that bundle except for Emma and you and John. I’d no intention of troubling you with them. They were of no consequence, but I’m obliged to you, all the same.

I have been in Hartford luxuriating on green peas and ripe cherries for some days, and now returned half sick to bread (half-baked rye dough by accident this week) and milk. By the way, I had the gratification of eating some of Emma’s own bread at your house, and it was as good as could be, I assure you. I was at your house twice. Nobody there but your father and Emma, but I could not have had a much more agreeable time than I did.

I went up on the Fourth, and was fortunate enough to hear Mr. Case’s performance, of which you have seen some notice. Oh! It was rich, though, I tell you. Decidedly a stupendous splurge. In the first place, I believe Mr. Case inquired of some friend if he knew any town that was desirous of obtaining the services of an orator for the Fourth. Certain public spirited individuals having learnt this, and it having come to their knowledge also that he had been engaged in the composition of an Independence address two years before, it was resolved that the result of so much distinguished labor should not be lost, but if possible secured for the edification of their own fellow citizens. Accordingly, a self-constituted Committee waited on the notable author and very readily obtained his acceptance of the appointment of “orator of the day.”

So, on the morning, appeared on every lamppost and nuisance wall a handbill headed with a spread eagle with the flying motto of “Keep up the Spirit of ’76” informing the public that the oration would be delivered at the foot of the State House yard by Seymour N. Case, Esq., after the reading of the Declaration of Independence, &c, “per order Com. of Arrangements.” Agreeably to this call at four o’clock I found perhaps a thousand persons, or half of it, waiting there in lively anticipation.

Considerable apprehension of disappointment (is that a bull?) was evident, but it was said Mr. Case had been called on early in the afternoon and found rehearsing before a glass. However as he did not appear a committee went to look him up. He had locked himself into his room, and refused them admittance, telling them indignantly that he was not to be imposed upon. (Some friends had advised him that he was sold. It is supposed to have [222]been Mr. Toucey.) Admission having been obtained however by a match key, his various personal acquaintance (who are they not?) severally assured him that there was no hoax, at least as far as they were aware. And each as friends privately advised him that if such had been the case, it would be much to his credit & renown to get the better of them, by carrying it through in a masterly manner, at the same time offering their countenance and protection.

Colonel Waterman (the Sheriff) came in hoping anxiously that he would delay no longer, as the people were getting excited and he feared it would be impossible to restrain them much longer. There were ten thousand men waiting impatiently and he did not know where it might end, &c. This evidently affected him and he inquired who was to be the reader. Chas. T. Bull was mentioned and several others, to each of which he objected (as guises I suppose). Mr. Skinner he thought would be just the man (quite complimentary to John wasn’t it!) Mr. S. accepted and was agreed upon.

A procession was started immediately—thus: Marshall of the day (Colonel Waterman), Orator of the day carrying his roll, Reader of the Declaration of Independence with a big sheep covered book (arm in arm), Erastus Goodwin, Esq. (solus), assistant grand marshall, Committee of Arrangements, and the escorting committee with faculty and students of Trinity College, as an escort armed with canes; citizens (two deep) and strangers, three young ladies from the country in white dresses (accidentally), young gentlemen of the public schools, &c.

The crowd parted respectfully and permitted the “set” to enter the American Hotel, on the lower balcony of which they presently appeared. The adjoining windows and other balconies were crowded with beauty and white dresses. A table with chairs and a small awning were provided. And the meeting having been called to order by the Marshall, Mr. Skinner read the Declaration, after which the Orator was presented and received with every demonstration of delight. The cheers subsiding, Mr. Case unrolled a scroll of close written foolscap, which frightened some of the country folk who wanted to go home that night.

He commenced reading very loud and continued amidst general cries of “louded” When it was evident he had reached the highest capacity of his voice, the Marshall requested the audience to keep order and silence was partially restored. The most rapturous applause, however, hailed every sentiment—generally in the middle of its delivery—and a running accompaniment of laughter, “good!” “louder!” “great!” “That’s fine!” “Splendid!” “My!” &c., &c. was kept up.

Bouquets were thrown from the windows behind him, which he acknowledged with peculiar grace & benignancy. His modesty however would not allow him to wear a wreath, with which a young gentleman with the best intentions, acting as the representative of the ladies, endeavoured to adorn his brows.

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When he had finished, Mr. Chapman, Major Ely, Lawyer Goodman, the Comptroller (Tyler), and others of our first public men were called upon, but severally excused themselves mostly on the plea that they dare not risk their reputation in extemporaneous speaking after such a well prepared and brilliant production as they had listened to. No lawyer could better the case, &c.

But the best of [it] was to see him try to look calm and composed sitting in the sunshine burning with blushes, his hair wilted, chin & nose dripping with sweat, & holding a bouquet as big as your hat, tied to a broom handle. He was escorted by the enthusiastic crowd to the City Hotel, where he held a levee where many distinguished strangers were presented to him, each retiring with a deep impression of his peculiar affability, &c.

It struck me as a peculiar feature of the affair that the whole crowd in which there must have been many strangers, appeared to understand the thing perfectly. Do you suppose that he did? Not a bit of it. John Skinner said he made a congratulatory call on him the next morning and he remarked “Ah! Mr. Skinner, yesterday was the happiest day of my life! The proudest moment of my existence!” &c. “Ah Sir! There is nothing—there is nothing, Sir, so cheering to the soul, as the murmurs of popular applause!” I hope the address will be published for your benefit.

I will try to recall one sentence : “The proud bird of liberty clap’d his wings, and scouring through the etherial element perched upon the topmost cloud of heaven’s array, proclaimed to the sordid scions of royalty, America is free!”

John started with “liph,” on Monday for New Hampshire, and perhaps Montreal. I rode up with them as far as “Alford’s” where I left them in good spirits. Frank and his step brother were in company in a buggy. I do hope this journey will set John up again.

I should like to know when you expect to be in Litchfield. Our folks are to visit that way sometime in August, and I think I shall, if you do at that time.