The March family matriarch walks through memories of her four daughters – Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy – in her own words.
Things really changed for Jo when Laurie, who had always been her closest friend and whom she’d thought of as a brother, proposed to her. She was horrified at the idea of them marrying, although I can’t say it came as a shock to me – it was obvious the boy was head-over-heels in love with her. Jo couldn’t see it and when she turned down his offer, it drove a wedge between them that took a while to heal. Heartbroken, Laurie fled to Europe, while Jo headed off to New York to help run a boarding house.
It was there that she met Professor Friedrich Bhaer, the big, bluff German professor with whom she fell in love and eventually married. They too have a happy union, with two sons of their own, plus the 18 boys who are boarders in their school, and who are like sons to them.
Despite her wild and boyish ways, Jo was always especially tender and caring towards her sister Beth, whom she sheltered from life’s storms as best she could.
It pains me to speak of Beth. She was tragically frail and suffered from such severe social anxiety, that it was hard for her to interact with people outside of her home, which is why she was home schooled. Beth was a sweet, sensitive, and kind soul who loved music above all else, and played the piano with a gusto lacking in other areas of her life.
Knowing how much she loved playing, Laurie invited her to his home where there was a magnificent instrument that only he played. Beth happily took advantage of his kind offer, often disappearing for hours to play to her heart’s content. Old Mr Laurence often heard her playing, which pleased his kindly heart as it reminded him of the daughter he had loved and lost, Laurie’s mother, who had also been a pianist before dying young.
We had no idea how touched he was by Beth’s playing until he arranged for a brand-new piano to be delivered to us, knowing how much it would mean to the gentle musician who had captured his heart. When Beth saw the piano, defying her usual reticence, she ran across to Mr Laurence’s mansion and finding him alone, flung her arms around his neck with girlish affection and gratitude. As an extra thank you, she embroidered him a pair of carpet slippers, which he declared were the best gift he had ever received. Thus, their unlikely friendship was cemented in love.
But it was Beth’s kindly nature that brought about her demise, and it makes me weep even now remembering what happened. Beth had taken to visiting a local dirt-poor immigrant family, and during one such visit caught scarlet fever from one of the children. Despite the doctor’s ministrations, she failed to recover, dying in my arms one afternoon days later. The arms that had held her at birth, also held her as she passed into God’s own embrace. Beth’s passing had a profound effect on all of us. It was hard for me to say goodbye to my sweet little girl, while her sisters cried copious tears.
Our youngest girl Amy only learned of Beth’s death in a letter, as she had accompanied Aunt March on her Grand Tour of Europe so was in Italy when the letter eventually brought her the tragic news.
As the youngest of our daughters, we had always spoiled her. Amy was a pampered miss, with pale blonde curls and bright blue eyes she often used to flirtatious advantage. Her beauty attracted much attention from eligible young men, especially from wealthy Ned Moffat, brother of Meg’s friend Annie Moffat. She had even considered marrying him if he asked her, as he could give her everything she had ever wanted.
While her sisters Jo and Beth were drawn to literature and music, Amy was the artist of the family, endlessly sketching or painting, and hoping she would become a famous artist one day. She was a bright and vivacious girl, who from her earliest days showed an ability to do whatever she set her mind to. She eventually became companion to Aunt March, replacing Jo, as the old woman decided Amy was much better suited to her needs. Thus, it was Amy who Aunt March took to Europe, which disappointed Jo, but delighted Amy.
It was while she was in Italy that she encountered Laurie, still smarting from Jo’s refusal to marry him. As the days and weeks passed, the two young people grew closer, and suddenly the lad’s heartache faded as he became very fond of the prettiest and youngest of the March sisters.
The letter telling them of Beth’s passing affected them profoundly, and it was while Laurie was comforting Amy, that he realised he loved her. Needless- to- say, they married before returning to Concord a year later. Their union is a happy one, giving Amy all the luxury she had yearned for in her younger days. She had long given up on the idea of becoming a famous artist, acknowledging that while she had the desire, she did not have the aptitude, and that loving Laurie was all she wanted. We were all delighted at their marriage, although it came as a huge surprise after the debacle with Jo, who was happy Laurie had fallen in love and wed someone much better suited to him. The new Mrs Laurence has learned to think of other people first, especially after the birth of their one precious daughter, who is the apple of everyone’s eye, especially mine.
So, there we have it, life with my wonderful girls and although I will miss Beth every day until I am able to join her in Heaven, my remaining three daughters fill my heart and life with nothing but golden pleasure.
Louisa May Alcott: 1832 – 1888
“Keep good company, read good books, love good things and cultivate soul and body as faithfully as you can.”
Louisa May Alcott was a prolific American novelist, writer and poet, best known for her novel ‘Little Women’.
An active early feminist and abolitionist, who was the first woman to register to vote in Concord, Massachusetts, she published many short stories in a broad range of periodicals, as well as numerous novels. She wrote lurid, sensational stories before the success of ‘Little Women’, supporting her family with “blood and thunder tales, and gothic thrillers” often published under the androgynous pseudonym of A M Barnard.
She suffered chronic health problems in her later years, which her earliest biographers attributed to mercury poisoning. Her family was poor – they lived on bread and water for weeks, even months at a time, moving some 30 times before she was 25, usually leaving debts in their wake. Her ambition was to lift her family out of poverty.
She wrote ‘Little Women’ in three months in 1868, the novel drawing heavily on her own life. She never married, saying “I’d rather be a free spinster and paddle my own canoe.” Writing was her life-long passion
