As I was returning from town yesterday evening—cold, damp & windy—coming to the foot of Vanderbilt’s Avenue, I was tucking in the blankets & buffalos—making myself into a mummy. Mr. Seaman drove up from behind to pass me, startled Bell, who jumping, probably loosened the breeching in some way so the “avalanche” shot in to him, terrified him—runaway.

I kept him in the middle of the road a few moments, going at a jumping gallop—was trying to get myself loose of my wrapping when he kicked in the dash board and jerked the reins out of my hands. They are short reins, but I am much ashamed of it.

He immediately afterwards ran off the bank. It is a kind of causeway you remember with trees planted near the road and a space of 10 feet between them and a stone wall. The carriage did not upset though I supposed it would [332] any moment, or catch & be pulled to pieces either on the trees, or the wall. It jumped from one side to the other but did not catch or throw me out. The curtains were buckled down fore and aft. Just east of the hay scales, you remember, the trees run out & the space between them & the wall narrows; also there is here a large old apple tree with branches low crossing the space. I saw this before me and was sure that we should fetch up. I threw up the front seat and lay myself down in the bottom as the safest position. As we came to the apple tree, away went the top and every thing higher than the dash board. One of the seats was thrown out and several of the miscellaneous articles. But the waggon righted & came out onto the fair road, swinging round the corner at the hay scales. I knew the toll gate was close before us & that we should probably fetch up against it. I kicked out the hind seat, threw myself over the back, my feet tripped & I could not recover, but I held on with [one] hand & let my self down as near the ground as I could & let go and immediately got up, uninjured. Waggon was going through the gate & a woman was fainting with fright.

I went back & picked up the things. Mr. Seaman drove up and took me in. At Wandell’s, the waggon makers opposite Judge Emerson’s, we found the waggon & Bell quietly feeding in the stable. He had been turned round at Osgood’s hill by someone trying to stop him & finally caught by Wandell.

Running gear of the waggon uninjured, box frame somewhat broken, top left under & in the apple tree all broken & torn to smash—no value; shafts broken; horse, a little cut in the shoulder, not lame this morning.

I borrowed a saddle & rode home immediately. This morning I find myself stiff & sore down the back and right side & right knee slightly sprained, pantaloons spoiled. Glad it’s no worse.

The ground has been so hard—no rain yet to penetrate—that I have not thought it best to take up the trees. It is so hard to get them out without breaking the rootlets when the soil is baked, & have been waiting in hopes of a storm. Today, we have begun on trees to be delivered on the island, to be sent up this p.m. that the wagon &c. may be brought back from Wandell’s. We have been principally engaged on fences & in painting the last week.

Saturday morning I went up to N.Y. Collected $105 for Douai & with $15 before collected, & borrowing some from myself, paid $140 on account of Douai. Last night we heard from Seward who invites me to call on him next week in New York.

In p.m. Saturday called on Mr. Bateman at the St. Nicholas. He gave me an order for two to the play in the evening & invited Brace. I went with Brace & his wife. The play was Young America—with Ellen as newsboy. It is very touching and good. Charley was much interested & we all had a good crying spell. Without regard to age, Ellen Bateman is one of the best actresses I ever saw—no stage manner, but a perfect natural child. She is now ten years old, her sister twelve.

Bateman said if I thought best he would, after fulfilling his engagement, give a benefit to the Children’s Aid Society. He says he has picked up a [333]

Ellen Bateman as the Newsboy in Young America

Sunday morning he came down here with me bringing Kate. Ellen was a little unwell & they did not think it prudent for her to go out & her mother stayed to keep her company. We liked Kate very much & she & her father both seemed very much to enjoy being in the country. It is really very wonderful how little injured she has been by this life. 5 years now in which she has been on the stage 5 nights out of six probably when not travelling. Yet she is so simple & child like as you could wish—very sensible & well bred, too, & with less bad habits than usual. Her mother seems to be an uncommonly fine & sensible woman. They have never been in a theater except their mother was with them.

You probably saw the paragraph I wrote for the “Times” about them last week. I wrote it almost entirely on conjecture, but Bateman says it is quite true in all points, only they have scarcely given any instruction to the children at all in acting & only tried to give them a clear understanding of the [334] meaning & spirit of their parts & left the posturing & delivery & gesture &c. to their instinct.

Bateman gave me all the particulars of his fight in California. He was informed that the editor was armed & expecting to meet him in the street. When he went out, therefore, he took a revolver with him to defend himself—having previously made his will &c. The editor saw him coming, crossed the street with a friend & came up to him. When he stopped before him, Bateman raised his arm & with one blow knocked him down. His friend fired at Bateman, who then drew his own revolver & all three fired several shots.

He says the newspaper accounts here were all furnished by the editor & his friends & were very false. The court held him justified & the citizens as an expression of their approbation presented the children with $1,000 on their benefit night. The law-suit, loss of time &c. altogether cost him a very great sum.

Yesterday I drove them up. We found Ellen sick abed with Panama fever, Dr. Marcy attending her. As the bills were posted with a large lithograph of “Ellen Bateman as the Newsboy” it was a predicament. After a capital lunch in their parlor I went with Mr. Bateman to the theater to make arrangements for a change of pieces & to cast the new ones.

While waiting for some actors who had to be sent for, he took me all over “behind the scenes”—explained all the machinery &c. from the ventilator to the basement. There is an immense & most complicated amount of it. The guards against fire are most excellent. A company was rehearsing on the stage & I was introduced to several of them, very clever, simple, light & kind hearted people they seemed to be. Wonderfully affected and demonstrative of pity &c. at Ellen’s illness.

I am at a little loss about voting this p.m., but believe I shall go the clean Whig ticket, except the member of Congress—for which I shall support the Soft candidate, the regular Whig being a Hunker & the Independent having I suppose no chance. Dr. will vote against Raymond.