them. Of the sons, Cyrus and Darius first enlisted; and the mother displayed her Spartan spirit from this time throughout the war. She
was present as a leader in the meetings of mothers and sisters and others, held so often in Boston for prayer for the loved volunteers
fighting at the front. Her disinterested patriotism was the more marked inasmuch as the twins were the only sons left her at home, the others being married. She was a welcome visitor to Readville Camp, always responding to the request of the twins' comrades to address them, in which the father joined when he visited the camp with her. On account of her fervor at the prayer meetings it was anticipated that there would be a somewhat dramatic scene
when the Forty-fourth Regiment should be received by their friends on Boston Common on their return, but the anticipated scene was
not enacted. Mother and sons met with marked calmness. The same calmness that had attended the departure for possible death in
battle received the safe return.
Fortitude was a prime virtue* It attended her through life, and appeared with a kind of solemn grandeur on the approach of death. Having had two strokes of paralysis, she awaited the third stroke with tranquillity. She calmly arranged with her twin sons for her funeral, going into all details with them as if it were an ordinary, every-day matter. She requested them to sing at her grave, which they promised to do if they were able. They then knelt at her feet, and she placed her hands upon their heads and blessed them. They feel those hands upon their bowed heads to this day, and listen to the dying mother's blessing uttered in that same firm, fervid tone which had so often been an inspiration and a comfort. Her last hours were spent in a pleasant chamber, that overlooked Mystic River and Bunker Hill Monument. On a beautiful morn- ing, May 2, 1880, while the Sabbath bells were ringing, she realized that the last summons had come. She asked her grandson, Albert Wins- low, who was alone with her, to help her to a large arm-chair awaiting her in the chamber. Her mother and grandmother had died in this chair, and she had always. desired to die in it. When she waa in the chair, she made a sign for her grandson to take her hand. "Help me over, don't hold me back," she said with tran- quil happiness. Her son George Winslow and his wife and daughter appeared, having been warned by Albert. Heaving struggles for breath ensued. "Excuse me for making this noise," she gasped. "I cannot help it." Thus did she show to the last that tender regard for the feelings of others which had ever charac- terized her — an ever-attendant virtue. The funeral services were held in the Univer- salist church at East Boston, and were attended by the Ladies' Physiological Institute in a body. According to her dying request, the funeral sermon was delivered by the Rev. Dr. A. St. John Chambr^, whom she loved as a son.
A very touching, memorable incident now occurred. A lovely little babe, seven months* old, the infant daughter of Darius and Laura, died the same day her grandmother died, so that those who parted with her could but be- hold her, in their faith's vision, received into the grandmother's arms in greeting, she never having seen the child in this life. Her little casket was placed beside the casket of the grandmother, and as the members of the In- stitute passed by, to look for the last time upon the features of their tenderly remembered presi- dent, their eyes were unexpectedly greeted by the sight of this little babe, sweetly sleeping its last sleep by the side of its grandmother. Many were the responsive tears from those who wit- nessed this scene. It seemed as if enacted by Heaven itself, to impress upon our hearts the memory of that blessed mother in- Israel, who so loved the little children and ever made them so happy.
When the little child was drawing her last breath, her eyes were fixed upward with a mar- vellously heaven-inspired gaze, ere their earthly lids were forever closed. What she there saw only Heaven knows. In their souls' vision the parents have always seen that sainted grand- mother, whom the Sabbath morning bells had ushered into heaven, awaiting, while the even- ing bells of the same holy Sabbath were ushering in her dear grandchild.
At the grave the cwin sons, Cyrus and Darius, kept their promise. Sylvanus, Samuel Tucker,
