Mabel excited by lecture

Article content

In our world of electronic and digital communications, one wonders what evidence of our day-to-day lives will exist for our descendants in the next century. Modern technology has given us the ability to be in almost constant touch with one another. But, will our emails and texts still exist a hundred years from now? For decades, letter writing was often an everyday occurrence for most people. Keeping in touch meant sitting down with pen and paper. Receiving a letter was often an exciting event, especially from someone miles away. And, for many, including Alexander Graham Bell and his family, these letters were something to be kept, not simply discarded once read. The Bells were profuse writers and as a result, their story can be told today through thousands of letters.

We apologize, but this video has failed to load.

Try refreshing your browser, or
tap here to see other videos from our team.

Mabel excited by lecture Back to video

Born in Scotland in 1847, Alexander Graham Bell lived a unique life. Influenced by his father, Melville, a professor of elocution, and his deaf mother, Eliza; the loss of his brothers, Melville and Edward, to Consumption; and marriage to his deaf pupil, Mabel Hubbard, Bell left a legacy to the world that few could imagine living without. How this came to pass is best revealed through the letters between these individuals. Here, we present those letters to you.

Mrs. Bell received this lengthy letter from Mabel in Brantford not long after Alec undertook his demonstration of the telephone for Queen Victoria. Interestingly, Mabel gave almost no particulars of that occasion, feeling that such would bore Eliza. Instead she mentioned an evening with the English philanthropist, Baroness Burdett Coutts, and gave a lengthy description of a lecture by the famed explorer Henry Morton Stanley. This week’s Bell Letter will begin this week and conclude next.

57 West Cromwell Road
Saturday, February 9th

My dear Mrs. Bell

I beg your pardon for letting so many weeks pass without writing to you. I had no idea how long a time it was, and I had so much to say to Mamma which I thought you would not care so much to hear about. My details about the ceremonies at the Baroness Burdett Coutts, the bowing and standing in presence of Royalty would not have the charm of novelty to you they would to my American friends, and my head was full of them.

We have received two or three letters from you, which we, and especially of course Alec, have much enjoyed reading. I am so sorry you have had such unsatisfactory weather this winter. I believe ours has been good for this climate, but for America it would be called warm wet chilly all at once but I like it better than real cold, and ice and snow. It is pleasant to see the grass in our little garden so fresh and green, instead of being covered with dreary white snow.

We have been quite gay lately, callers have been here almost every day for the past week or two, we have been out to a dinner party, and to two lectures in full dress. The reception at the Baroness Burdett Coutts made quite an excitement in anticipation and afterwards. I presume Mamma has sent you my letters about it.

The latest excitement is Stanley’s lecture at St. James Hall. We were particularly fortunate in securing three admissions, though 900 applications were refused the first day the tickets were issued. Alec went with a friend of his and Mr. Home escorted me in Alec’s name. We reached the hall at quarter past seven, and found the immense hall already as full as it would hold, except the reserved seats on the platform, and the two ends of the galleries touching the platform on either side, and some cushioned seats right in front of the platform.

My ticket admitted me to these seats, which were reserved for the ladies of distinguished men on the platform, and for the Prince of Wales and suite, but through some mistake I was shown to a seat in one of the gallery ends, while Mr. Home was put on the platform just a step beneath me and separated by a railing. Early as it was Mr. Home pointed out to me a little old man with long grey beard and wide make hat, seated in one of the front seats of the platform, and told me it was Moffat the 90 year old father of Livingstone.

Gradually the benches filled and I saw Grant, a fine looking tall old man. Cameron a small slender young man with brown beard and hair loudly cheered whenever he rose and pointed out some particular spot of interest on the big charts at the back of the platform. The Chinese Ambassador came in and took his place beside Cameron, a little man he, in costume much sobered down, but very much a chinaman.

By this time the green seats in front were filled with lightly dressed ladies, and the platform too was full, several gentlemen wearing orders the Star of India being the most common. Then all of a sudden the vast audience rose to their feet, and we saw the Prince of Wales come in and take his seat in front of the ladies. When the people sat down we saw, on his right a Turk, on his left the pale delicate face of the Prince Imperial of France, on his left two more Turks, then the Duke of Sutherland (I think) then, the frank boyish face and light wavy hair of the young Prince of Austria…

The Bell Letters are annotated by Brian Wood, Curator, Bell Homestead National Historic Site.