author of Cecil Dreeme — a name which seemed to describe him. And it was heart-breaking to learn that his life ended at Ball's Bluff. I remember the soft summer morning when I looked from my window to see a gun-carriage with a coffin covered with roses, on which lay his little blue cap, his sorrowing friends walking by his side. The last of Theodore Winthrop! The next day five young captains were borne by dead on their shields. It seemed as if not all the principles in the world were worth that agony. Had it not been for the Sanitary Commission, our hearts would have broken.
It is amazing to remember how every one responded to the trumpet-call which Dr. Bellows sent forth, how every woman became a "worker" for the soldiers in the field. It was no holiday enthusiasm; it was the business of life.
I became the secretary of the Metropolitan Fair, and wrote innumerable letters to all our representatives in Europe. Mr. Motley and Mr. Marsh (at Rome) responded nobly. All answered well. I only happen to remember these two men whose letters were uncommonly eloquent. I remember that I sold Mr. Motley's letter for fifteen dollars at our autograph counter — a fact which I told him in 1869, when he was minister to England. I said "that ardent youth would have bought your name over again half a dozen times for that amount, Mr. Motley." "Well," said he, "I will let him have it very cheap now." After a winter's work we sent Dr. Bellows "one million three hundred and sixty-five dollars," in one check, as the result of our winter's work at the Metropolitan Fair.
Richard Grant White was the secretary of the male part of the work, and together we got up a Dramatic Committee which was very successful in its little way.
