In 1876 Isabella was firmly established in her new role as editor of The Pansy magazine, although the entire enterprise was a family affair. Isabella’s husband, sister, brother-in-law, and friends all contributed articles and stories to each issue of the magazine.
Isabella’s husband, the Rev. G. R. “Ross” Alden, wrote Bible study lessons, stories, and poems for the magazine. His talent was creating lovely rhymes with messages that were meaningful for both children and adults.
Here’s one of Rev. Alden’s poems that expertly blends a message on kindness with a celebration of the first day of spring:
You can read more of Rev. Alden’s poems in these previous posts:
For more than a quarter of a century, Isabella edited newspapers (like The Pansy), wrote innumerable novels and short stories, taught classes on homemaking and child rearing, served congregations as a pastor’s wife, and designed Sunday school lessons for children. In between all that, she somehow managed to travel extensively.
Sometimes she was called upon to deliver an address at a conference. Other times she was the guest of a ladies’ missionary society or Bible study, where she often read chapters from one of the stories or novels she was working on at the time. (You can read more about that here.)
From the Rome, New York “Daily Sentinel,” August 18, 1898.
When she returned home from one of her many trips, her family gathered around her so she could tell them all about the places she went and the people she met. Her niece, Grace Livingston Hill wrote:
“She saw everything, and she knew how to tell, with glowing words, about the days she had been away so that she lived them over again for us. It was almost better than if we had been along, because she knew how to bring out the touch of pathos or beauty or fun, and her characters were all portraits. It listened like a book.”
One time in particular, Isabella returned home with an extraordinary story. Speaking at the same event had been a woman who was active in many of the same efforts that were of interest to Isabella, such as woman’s suffrage, and the temperance movement. Like Isabella, the woman was well known across the country as a writer and as a much-in-demand public speaker. It was this woman who recounted to Isabella an incident that happened to her.
With the woman’s permission (and with a promise to keep the woman’s identity a secret), Isabella wrote a short story based on the woman’s experience.
The premise of the story is this: A woman traveling by train to a speaking engagement notices an older man and younger woman traveling together on the same train. She quickly realizes she had come upon a couple in the middle of an elopement—and that the young would-be bride is having second thoughts!
How Isabella’s friend intervened (and what happened after) were recounted in Isabella’s story. When it was finished, Isabella sent the story off to a Christian newspaper that was pledged to publish a certain number of her stories each year.
To her surprise, the editor wrote back to ask Isabella if she had considered that the story might suggest to young people “evil ways of which they had never read.”
Can you imagine that? The editor actually worried that Isabella’s story about an elopement might have a negative or “evil” influence on the young people who read it!
In the end, Isabella withdrew the story, locked it away, and forgot all about it. Then, in the late 1920s, she came across the old manuscript and decided to expand the story into a novel.
The result was An Interrupted Night, and the story’s lead character of Mrs. Mary Dunlap was based on Isabella’s friend and the unusual events she told Isabella about decades before.
An Associated Press newspaper photo of Isabella in her later years.
By the time she finished writing the book and submitted it to a publisher, Isabella was in frail health. When the publisher asked her to make some edits to her manuscript, Isabella’s niece, Grace Livingston Hill, stepped in to help her “put it into final shape.”
The book was released in the fall of 1929 with a decidedly modern-looking cover:
And it was received by a decidedly modern audience that took the story’s premise of an eloping couple in stride. Isabella later wrote that she “exploded with laughter” when she thought about how much the world had changed in the years since she first wrote the story.
Now An Interrupted Night is available for twenty-first century readers to enjoy with a brand new cover:
Mary Dunlap is on her way to a speaking engagement when the train on which she travels experiences engine trouble and must make an unexpected stop for the night. While frustrated by the delay, Mrs. Dunlap quickly realizes a couple on the train is in the middle of an elopement—and the would-be bride is having second thoughts! Drawing on God’s strength, Mrs. Dunlap intervenes; but can she convince the young woman to abandon her plan and return home to her mother before it’s too late?
An Interrupted Night is now available from The Pansy Shop, along with novels by Rev. Charles M. Sheldon, Mary McCrae Culter, and other Christian authors in Isabella’s circle of family and friends. Click on the tab in the menu above, or click here to check out The Pansy Shop!
BY THE WAY …
Who do you think was the “real” Mrs. Mary Dunlap? Frances Willard or Emily Huntington Miller Perhaps Harriett Lothrop (who wrote as “Margaret Sidney”)? Leave your guess in the comments below!
In her novel Wise and Otherwise, Isabella wrote about a group of people who lived at a boarding house and the influences they had on each other. One of the residents, Mrs. Sayles, invited her dearest friend Dell Bronson to visit and take a room at the same boarding house. Isabella describes their reunion this way:
Mrs. Sayles went about during the rest of that day with very shining eyes, and very happy, expectant face, which was not shaded in the least when on the morrow she had been sitting for half an hour close beside her friend, and was now with her in her dressing-room, waiting while the rich masses of brown hair were being smoothed and braided into shape.
Isabella knew whereof she wrote. Like Dell Bronson, Isabella also had rich masses of brown hair that she wore in a braid, arranged at the back of her head.
A publicity image of Isabella, drawn from a photo of her when she was about age 30.
Her niece, Grace Livingston Hill, admired Isabella’s hair, and described it this way:
Her eyes were dark and had interesting twinkles in them that children loved; her hair was long and dark and very heavy, dressed in two wide braids that were wound round and round her lovely head in smooth coils, fitting close like a cap.
Isabella about age 35
But that wasn’t all Grace admired about her aunt’s hair. She wrote:
When [her hair] was unbraided and brushed out, it fell far below her knees and was like a garment folding her about.
Isabella about age 40
Grace went on to confess:
How I adored that hair and longed to have hair just like it! How I even used in secret to tie an old brown veil about my head and let it fall down my back, and try to see how it would feel to have hair like that. Nobody else in the world looked just as lovely as did she.
Isabella, about age 60.
Isabella kept the same simple yet becoming hairstyle throughout her adult life.
Are you surprised to learn how long Isabella’s hair was? What is the longest length you’ve ever grown your hair?
This month’s free read is a short story by Isabella’s sister, Marcia Livingston.
Grandma’s bedroom is a welcoming place where all the cousins gather to talk; so when two of the cousins plan a shopping trip to the city for new bonnets, of course all the girls—including Grandma—must be consulted! But amid their happy chatter, it only takes a few thoughtless words to wound a spirit and change one life forever.
You can read “Aunt Maria’s Afterwards” for free!
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It’s difficult to describe how incredibly popular The Pansy magazine was. As the editor, Isabella received hundreds of letters every month from parents and children. Sometimes they wrote in response to a question Isabella posed in an article or story. Sometimes children wrote stories of their own and sent them to Isabella for her feedback.
Other times children confided their problems to Isabella and asked for her advice; others simply wrote to tell Isabella about their day.
In 1891 a little girl named Ida White wrote a letter about her family and home life that Isabella found so charming, she published the entire letter in The Pansy magazine for all her readers to see. Here is Ida’s letter.
Dear Pansy:
My hair has grown out in curls about three inches long all about my face and neck.
We have a little baby at our house, which we call Blue-eyed Pansy. His name is George Washington.
Both of my little brothers are tongue-tied, and have two toes on the same foot, grown together. They are as much alike as twins could be, only one is nine years, and the other three months old. Mamma took him to church last Sunday and he squealed; she took him out in the hall, and he squealed there; then she took him out in the yard, and gave him a roll on the grass. He cannot talk, but he has heard the word “look” so much, that he tries to say it, or seems to.
We have a little dog named “Tip.” He is about the size (and my sister thinks he is almost as sweet) as a pound of yellow sugar. We have four little kittens; their names are Adams, Lincoln, Jefferson, and Grant. We live on a farm in a two-story house, a mile and a half west of the village. We have two hundred little chickens.
A little oriole built its nest on a tree in our front yard; then a cuckoo stole the nest, and they brought up their families together. We have pansies blooming on the north side of the house. We have flowers from March till frost; and plenty of beautiful little hummingbirds, and innumerable bumble-bees.
I have an uncle living in California that mamma and I never saw; when he comes to see us, I will tell you about California. I would like to go to New York, and to Niagara Falls, and to see the ocean.
I think it is real good and kind of you to read other people’s children’s scratching, and give them a chance to write; and I love you for it. I hope your Ray will live till he is a man, for I think he will be a good and benevolent gentleman. You may publish my letter if you want to.
Good-by, Ida White.
In the last paragraph of her letter, Ida mentioned Isabella’s son “Ray.” At the time, Raymond Alden was three years old and the apple of Isabella’s eye. She often shared little stories in the magazine about his antics and mentioned him when she replied to children’s letters (“No, we haven’t any dog; but our Ray, whenever we ask him what he would like to have for a birthday present, says, “A big, black dog.”).
By all accounts, Ida’s wish came true, for Raymond Alden grew up to be a well-loved, well-respected and extremely “benevolent gentleman.”
This is the second of two posts about Isabella’s most difficult year. If you missed the first post, you can read it here.
In the spring and summer months of 1924, Isabella and her family carried on without her beloved husband, Ross, who died in March of that year.
The influenza epidemic that precipitated Rev. Alden’s death had waned, but there were still reported cases as late as the summer of 1924. That’s when Isabella’s sister Marcia fell ill.
Marcia Livingston
Again a doctor was called to the house in Swarthmore to treat her, but the virus had weakened her heart. On August 7, Marcia succumbed to myocarditis, a rare but serious condition that causes inflammation of the heart muscle.
It had to have been a devastating blow to Isabella. For their entire lives, she and Marcia had been close. Marcia was the sister who tended Isabella when she was young, who watched over her when she was ill, and prayed that Isabella would choose Christ as her Saviour (you can read more about that here). Marcia helped introduced Isabella to her husband Ross; and after Isabella married, the Livingstons and the Aldens shared a home in Florida, and lived as neighbors at Chautauqua. They were as close as sisters could be.
Isabella Alden (left) and her sister Marcia Livingston (courtesy Daena Creel).
Isabella wrote:
I held the dear hand of my one remaining sister Marcia all that day, and prayed for one more clasp of it, one look of recognition, all in vain. She went, as did my dear husband, without a word or look.
Marcia was laid to rest in Johnstown, New York; that was where Marcia and Isabella grew up, and where Marcia met her husband Charles (you can read more about that here). Her grave is beside Charles’ grave and the grave of their infant son Percy.
Marcia Macdonald Livingston’s grave marker in the Johnstown Cemetery.
Although there’s no known record of it, Isabella, Grace, and other family members may have traveled to New York for the interment. If they did make the journey, it’s probable that Isabella’s son Raymond did not accompany them.
By the time Marcia died, Raymond was receiving medical care in Philadelphia for a chronic condition. All his life Raymond endured a painful form of eczema that caused open sores and blisters, leaving him prone to infection. In May of 1924, Raymond’s condition became worse, and he began to regularly see a doctor in Philadelphia.
Raymond Alden, from the Stanford University 1923 Yearbook.
By July Raymond’s wife Barbara wrote to her cousin about Raymond’s health, saying that although he was still very sick, he had shown “marked improvement.”
From The Peninsula Times Tribune, July 15, 1924.
But his improvement was short-lived. By September Raymond was suffering from an infection and, possibly, from an allergic reaction to medications he was given.
On September 27, less than two months after the death of his aunt, Raymond Alden died. Isabella was with him at the end.
“Mamma, fan me!” was the quick eager word my dear boy said, and the next minute he was gone.
Grace later wrote:
My saintly uncle went first, then my precious mother, and then my brilliant cousin, Dr. Raymond M. Alden. One blow after another that nearly crushed us all.
The family held a private funeral service for Raymond in Philadelphia; then it was time for the Aldens to leave Swarthmore and return to their Palo Alto home. Grace described it this way:
Then my dear aunt, courageous and wonderful through it all, went back to her California home with her brave daughter-in-law, and her five grandchildren.
From The Peninsula Times Tribune, October 18, 1924.
There must have been times when Isabella felt the acute loneliness of losing the three most important people in her life. She once wrote to Grace:
There is no one in all the world who needs me any more. I’m too old to help anybody in any way, and too weak to be anything but a burden to those who have already more than they can bear. Why can’t I go now to my eternal rest? Does it seem to you wrong to pray for this?
There were other times when she spoke of the many family members who had died over the years, and asked impishly, “What do they think of us all by this time? Do they meet together and talk us all over?” She thought often of the loved ones who had “gone ahead” and wrote to Grace:
Sometimes I have to put my hands over my eyes in the darkness and say: “Casting all—All—ALL your care upon Him.” Oh, why doesn’t He take me home?”
But God did not call her home. Isabella lived with Barbara and her grandchildren in the house she and Ross built on Embarcadero Road in Palo Alto for another six years.
Barbara Hitt Alden, about 1910
By all accounts, Barbara was loving and kind and “more than a daughter” to Isabella. And despite Isabella’s belief that she was “too weak to be anything but a burden” to Barbara, she would soon find that her work on Earth was not done, and that she had one last novel to write before she would be called Home to her Saviour.
On the surface, it may seem that Isabella led a charmed life. Her husband was beloved a minister and a leader in the Presbyterian Church.
Gustavus “Ross” Alden in later years (about 1912)
Her son Raymond was a talented writer, a beloved teacher, and an esteemed academic.
Isabella Alden, about 1895.
Isabella, herself, had been a successful author for decades, as well as an influential editor of various Christian magazines for young people and adults.
With so many proud accomplishments in her life, it’s hard to remember that Isabella had her share of heartache and loss.
Some of those losses were made all the more difficult because they occurred almost in a back-to-back fashion during one six-month period in her life. And it happened one-hundred years ago.
The year 1924 began on a positive note for the entire Alden family. Isabella’s son Raymond—who was head of the English Department at Stanford University in California—was on sabbatical so he could teach courses at Columbia University in New York. It was an exciting career opportunity for Raymond.
Undated photo of Raymond Macdonald Alden.
His topics during that Spring Session at Columbia were:
English Literature from 1780 to 1830.
Shakespeare
Versification
Raymond Alden listed as a Visiting Professor in the English and Comparative Literature department, Columbia Course Catalog for 1923-1924.
Raymond, his wife Barbara, and their five children (ages 2 to 14) made the move east together and rented a home within an easy commute to Columbia’s campus.
Barbara Hitt Alden, in her early twenties.
Isabella and her husband Ross went, too. Ross was 92 years old and had been officially retired from the ministry for some time, but he still enjoyed excellent health and a quick wit and intellect. Isabella was still writing novels, but she too had “retired” and had adopted a much slower pace when it came to her work.
Isabella and Ross moved into the Swarthmore, Pennsylvania home of Isabella’s sister Marcia Livingston and niece Grace Livingston Hill. Grace often described Marcia and Isabella as “inseparable” sisters, and for the majority of their lives, the Aldens and the Livingstons spent much of their time together.
It was while the Aldens were staying with Marcia and Grace in Swarthmore in the spring of 1924 that tragedy struck.
Grace Livingston Hill’s Home, Swarthmore, PA.
At that time Philadelphia was dealing with an influenza epidemic. The particular strain that prevailed during the spring of 1924 often caused pneumonia.
From The Philadelphia Inquirer, February 18, 1924.
Unfortunately, antibiotics like penicillin and sulfonamides were not as widely available as they are today; so doctors could offer little in the way of treatment for pneumonia, beyond recommending bed rest, and drinking fluids. Almost every day newspapers reported new outbreaks of the influenza virus, as well as the number of deaths, and it often seemed as if no one was safe.
From The Philadelphia Inquirer, March 1, 1924.
Health officials warned that a common cold or a mild case of the flu could quickly turn into a deadly case of pneumonia. Unfortunately, that is exactly what happened to Rev. Alden. At ninety-two years of age he was particularly susceptible to pneumonia, and although the family brought in a physician in to treat him, he died on March 29, 1924.
From The Peninsula Times Tribune, April 14, 1924.
His death was reported in newspapers across the country and the tributes and remembrances came pouring in. People wrote about their memories of when he was their church minister. They related the anecdotes he used to illustrate his sermons and teachings; and they mentioned the close friendships they formed with him in the Sabbath School classes he taught.
Perhaps Isabella had a chance to read some of those tributes. And she no doubt relied upon her sister Marcia’s support, as well as the tender care that Raymond, Barbara and Grace would have provided.
Isabella made the decision to remain in Swarthmore until summer, so Raymond could fulfill his teaching responsibilities at Columbia. Then, the Alden family planned to travel together back to their home in Palo Alto, California, where Rev. Alden’s remains would be laid to rest.
In her remembrances of her uncle, Grace recalled a poem he wrote and had printed as a New Year greeting card. He sent the cards to the members of his Bible class the last winter he was with them before going to Swarthmore. It reads:
TODAY
We are living today—not tomorrow, For no morrow was ever yet seen; And for joy, or for pain, or for sorrow, Only yesterdays ever have been.
God gives us duties—just for today; And His strength He bestows by the hour, “Grace is sufficient” we still hear Him say, So we trust Him for wisdom and power.
And since today is all that He gives, Let us treasure the day as it stands. It matters, then, much how everyone lives For tomorrow God holds in His hands.
If the surname “Dunmore” sounds familiar to you, you’ve probably read Isabella Alden’s novel, Miss Dee Dunmore Bryant.
In that book about the adventures of the Bryant family, Judge Dunmore was a kind and generous man who befriended the Bryant children and helped improve their fortunes.
Isabella must have liked the surname “Dunmore,” because six years earlier, she used the same name in a short story she published in The Pansy magazine. In the short story, the kindly and wise gentleman named Dunmore was a physician who went above and beyond his Hippocratic Oath to heal the heart of a badly injured patient.
“Doctor Dunmore’s Prayers” is this month’s free read.
When Mr. Greyson is badly injured at work, Dr. Dunmore does all he can to repair the man’s damaged body and orders him to bed. But with no income, the Greyson family is soon in dire straits and desperate for help. What else can the doctor do to help restore the man’s health and faith?
You can read “Doctor Dunmore’s Prayers” for free!
Choose the reading option you like best:
You can read the story on your computer, phone, tablet, Kindle, or other electronic device. Just click here to download your preferred format from BookFunnel.com.
Or you can select BookFunnel’s “email” option to receive an email with a PDF version you can read, print, and share with friends.
It’s the time of year when many people make resolutions—to study their Bible more often, lose weight, or spend more time with family and friends. But how many people resolve to change their life in order to benefit a stranger? That’s the premise of our January free read.
Grace Livingston Hill wrote “The Weak Brother for Whom Christ Died” in 1897, and it was based on true events. At that time, French actress Sarah Bernhardt was a theatrical titan, who enjoyed world-wide fame.
Undated photo of Sarah Bernhardt in character.
She toured the globe in plays she produced and starred in. She was a master of self-promotion and cultivated a larger-than-life persona that the newspapers and magazines of the time eagerly reported to their readers. She was, arguably, the world’s first true international superstar.
Undated photo of Sarah Bernhardt as Cleopatra.
Bernhardt first performed in America in 1880, when Grace was fifteen years old. Bernhardt’s American tour lasted several months. She performed in cities across the country, and each performance was met with thunderous applause and critical acclaim.
Bernhardt performing onstage in Berkeley, California, 1906.
In 1897 Bernhardt toured England, where she was so much in demand that she sometimes appeared in multiple plays at once, performing a matinee in one theater, then playing the lead in an entirely different play in a different theater that same evening!
From The Times, London, June 16, 1897.
But not everyone embraced Sarah Bernhardt with open arms. Despite her talent and riveting performances, conservative members of society and many religious groups viewed the theater as a morally corrupting influence, especially for women.
A promotional poster for Bernhardt’s 1905/1906 American tour.
Female actors were frequently stigmatized as immoral or promiscuous. Sarah Bernhardt—with her unconventional lifestyle, her bold stage performances, and numerous love affairs both within and outside of her marriage—scandalized a good portion of the population.
Bernahrdt as Napoleon. Her costume, with its form-fitting pantaloons, was considered quite scandalous.
Grace Livingston Hill knew about Sarah Bernhardt and probably read many of the newspaper articles about her. She also had strong opinions about Bernhardt and theater entertainments, which she used as the theme of her story, “The Weak Brother for Whom Christ Died.”
“Did you go out to see Bernhardt last evening, Murray?”
When three young men meet to pass a Sunday afternoon together, they never imagine that such a simple question can spark a very complicated discussion! But Frank Murray has read his Bible, and he is willing to forego some of the world’s pleasures if it means he will never be a stumbling-block to fall in another Christian brother’s way. Will Frank be able to explain his position to his new friends so they, too, will strive to help a weak brother in Christ?
You can read “The Weak Brother for Whom Christ Died” for free!
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Isabella Alden 