Representative women of New England/Grace Le Baron Upham
GRACE LE BARON UPHAM (in the literary world Grace Le Baron) was born in Lowell, Mass., June 22, 1845, the youngest daughter of John Goodwin Locke and Jane Ermina Starkweather Locke. Her father was a son of the Hon. John Locke, of Ashby, Mass., and a lineal descendant of Deacon William1 Locke, of Woburn, founder of the family in New England. Her mother was a daughter of Deacon Charles Starkweather, whose immigrant ancestor, Robert1 Starkweather, was at Roxbury in 1640, and later settled at Ipswich.
The Hon. John Locke (Harv. Coll. 1792) served six years as a member of Congress. He married Hannah" Goodwin, daughter of Nathaniel Goodwin, Jr., of Plymouth, and granddaughter of Nathaniel Goodwin, Sr., and his wife, Lydia3 Le Baron (great-great-grandmother of Mrs. Upham). Lydia was a daughter of Lazarus Le Baron and grand-daughter of Dr. Francis Le Baron, the "Nameless Nobleman" from France, whose romantic story furnished a fruitful theme for the pen of Mrs. Jane G. Austin, and whose grave is to-day hell sacred in historic Plymouth. It is said that in Mrs. Grace Le Baron Upham are evidenced the manners and looks of her distinguished French progenitor.
To the "Mayflower" and Plymouth Rock Mrs. Upham traces back through three Bartlett generations, thus: The wife of Lazarus Le Baron and mother of his daughter Lydia, above named, was Lydia3 Bartlett, daughter of Joseph3 Bartlett (Joseph.2 Robert1). Robert1 Bartlett, who came in the "Ann" in 1623, married Mary Warren, daughter of Richard1 Warren, one of the signers of the Compact in November, 1620.
Mrs. Jane E. Locke, singularly sweet and gracious in character, had a fine mind. She was a writer for the magazines and periodicals of the day, and published several volumes of poems. She was a contemporary and friend of William Cullen Bryant, Nathaniel P. Willis, and Edgar Allan Poe. In the years directly preceding her death, which occurred in 1859, Grace was her constant companion, and was privileged to meet such well-known literary folk as Poe, Lydia Maria Child, Fanny Fern, Mrs. Sigourney, not to mention other authors of lesser note in their day.
Mr. Locke was equally well known in his sphere of intellectual activity. He preserved the family history by compiling and publishing "The Book of the Lockes."
As a girl, and indeed from earliest infancy, Grace had to contend with delicate health. In 1850 her parents moved to Boston, and, since all but the first five years of her life have been passed in this city, she may be called a Bostonian. She was graduated from every grade of the Boston public schools, primary, grammar, high, and normal. In 1870 she became the wife of Henry M. Upham, son of Captain William and Margaret (Folger) Upham, of Nantucket. The Folgers, his maternal ancestors, were of the same family as the mother of Benjamin Franklin. Mr. Upham, late of the firm of Damrell & Upham, has recently retired from business, having been identified for thirty-six years with that ancient landmark of Boston, "The Old Corner Bookstore," which has borne his name. Thus by her marriage was another incentive given Mrs. Upham to use the talent inherited from her parents.
When she first began to write, she did not anticipate making authorship a profession, and so abbreviated her name. But the instantaneous success of her first book, "Little Miss Faith," published in 1894 by Lee & Shepard, Boston, encouraged her to go on. In the same year "The Ban of the Golden Rod" was published by a New York house. Following these came "Little Daughter," 1895; "The Rosebud Club," 1896; "Queer Janet," 1897; "Told under the Cherry-trees," 1890; "Jessica's Triumph," 1901—all published by Lee & Shepard. In 1898 Little, Brown & Co. issued "'Twixt You and Me." She has now in Preparation the last of the "Janet Series" for children and a novel for their elders. The latter has been urged upon Mrs. Upham by readers who have enjoyed her short stories, which have appeared at intervals in the current periodicals and magazines. Mrs. Upham says, however, that she shall always give her best strength to the young, who have been her most sincere friends from the first. Her stories are written with a purpose, the purpose of purifying and ennobling the lives of children. And she has richly earned her title, "The Children's Friend." Many are the letters she has received from her youthful admirers, letters filled with such earnest gratitude and appreciation that she counts herself rich indeed, .to have inspired them. That she might be sure of doing work uncolored and unbiassed by others in a similar line of literature, she has entirely abstained from reading juvenile books. This may, in a measlire, account for the distinctive style which is all her own.
Mrs. Upham's vivacity and warmth of heart make her a favorite, and, while not a club woman, she has a wide acquaintance with such. It is in patriotic societies that she feels her keenest interest, and she is a member of the following: Daughters of the American Revolution, Daughters of 1812, Society of Mayflower Descendants, Huguenot Society of America, belonging also to the Society of American Authors and Boston Authors' Society, and being an honorary Member of the League of American Penwomen and the Ladies' Physiological Institute.
A sketch of Mrs. Upham's work would be incomplete without reference to her poems and carols, many of the latter, written years ago, still being sung annually, notwithstanding the new ones offered every season.
Two short poems are given below, and many will recall the tender beauty of "Questionings," which appeared originally in the Boston Transcriptf but which was widely copied and appreciated.
The Memorial Day poem has appealed to comrades' hearts all over the country:—
ROSES, LILIES, AND FORGET-ME-NOTS.
Roses (Lancaster), red | War |
Lilies | Purity |
Forget-me-nots | Enduring Memories |
Halt I
Comrades, bow with uncovered head,
And deem it not weakness to shed
Tears o'er his grave.
Strew flowers with Memory's hand,
Float o'er him the flag of our land
lie died to save.
The red /or the blood he shed,
The white for his soul so pure,
The blue for the sky overhead,
Where his name shall aye endure.
lie was only a stripling, young,
Hut ne'er hath the poet sung
Of one so brave.
In the carnage of shot and shell,
With the broken staff, he fell.
And found a grave.
Oh, then, scatter ye roses red,
lied, red as the blood he shed,
And lilies white.
Weave in the forget-me-not's hue,
A garland, red, white, and blue, —
Our emblem bright.
The red for the blood he shed,
The white for his soul so pure.
The blue for the sky o'erhead.
Where his name shall aye endure.
Nothing could be more finished or spirited than the few comprehensive lines to John Boyle O'Reilly:—
In Memoriam.
JOHN BOYLE O'REILLY.
August, 1891 — August, 1894.
(Written for The Catholic World.)
Patriot and Poet! Martyr! Exile
From out a land that should have owned thee king I
Disciple of thy Lord in suffering I
Like Him, a ransom paid, that thy green isle
Might burst its bondage chains and live to smile
In Freedom's sunlight. Sadly we do bring
To-day the shamrock's drooping leaf, and sing,—
Not as of yore, when thou wert here the while,
As knight and leader of the Muses' choir:
The harp of Erin plays sad discords now.
And we, too, chant a requiem for thee.
O Jubilate I Nay, we'll tune the lyre
To wild rejoicing, and to Wisdom bowl
No fetters bind thy soul on either seal