The OHIO HISTORICAL Quarterly
VOLUME 67 ~ NUMBER 1 ~ JANUARY 1958
Woodrow Wilson's First Romance
By GEORGE C. OSBORN*
MUCH HAS BEEN WRITTEN about Abraham Lincoln's romance
with Ann Rutledge. Although Ann first
aroused Lincoln's romantic
emotions, very few facts are known
about this love affair. Indeed,
nearly all that has been written about
Ann and Abe's romance is
conjecture. Although most Americans
have heard of Lincoln's first
romance, not many realize that Woodrow
Wilson's initial venture
into the world of romance ended
unsuccessfully. Lincoln lost Ann
through death, but in the case of
Wilson, Hattie Woodrow rejected
his suit.
In the fall of 1879, Tommy Wilson, as
Woodrow was called
then, entered the law school of the
University of Virginia. Across
the Blue Ridge Mountains from
Charlottesville was Staunton,
where, more than twenty-two years
earlier, Tommy Wilson was
born. Here, in the fall of 1879,
several of his cousins were attending
the Augusta Female Seminary. The school
"was housed in the old
church where his father had once
occupied the pulpit and [where]
he himself had been baptised."1
Tommy knew a lot of people in
Staunton. As Tommy wrote, "I'm
made much of because I'm my
father's son: and I'm made much of with
all the cordial warmth of
* George C. Osborn is a member of the
department of history of the University
of Florida. Articles of his on Woodrow
Wilson's early life have appeared recently in
other historical journals.
He wishes to acknowledge his
indebtedness to Dean L. E. Grinter, chairman of
the University of Florida Research Fund,
for a grant which made possible the
research for and writing of this
article.
1 Ray Stannard Baker, Woodrow Wilson,
Life and Letters (New York, 1927-39),
I, 129.
2
THE OHIO HISTORICAL QUARTERLY
Virginia hospitality."2 One
of the sources of warm hospitality was
Tommy's uncle James Bones. Mrs. Bones
was a sister of Tommy's
mother. The more than forty mile trip
from Charlottesville to
Staunton was no problem for Tommy,
especially when he knew
that Uncle James and Aunt Marion would
always welcome him.
Among the cousins attending the Augusta
Female Seminary was
the talented Harriet Augusta Woodrow,
with whom Tommy was
soon in love. It was a romance in a
"wonderful family whose mem-
bers lived very close to each
other." Harriet was the eldest child
of Thomas Woodrow, Tommy's mother's
favorite brother for
whom Tommy was named, and Helen Sill
Woodrow, Wilson's
much-loved "Aunt Helen." Born
on August 31, 1860, in Chillicothe,
Ohio, Harriet was a beautiful child,
"with soft brown curls, clear
blue eyes, and a lovely complexion; she
had a sweet personality
and a true Christian spirit."3
From early childhood Harriet made
excellent grades in all of her studies
and showed exceptional talent
in music. As a student in the female
seminary, of which Miss Mary
Baldwin was headmistress, Harriet
excelled in French, piano, organ,
and voice. Indeed, her uncanny
abilities were evidenced in the fact
that she won three gold medals--in
French, in voice, and in music.
She was the only girl during her
student days to win all three
medals.4
During his childhood Tommy saw his
cousin several times on
occasions of family visits. At such
times they took each other for
granted, as cousins might. In fact, it
was not until Tommy's senior
year at Princeton, in 1878-79, that he
began to correspond with
Hattie. Hattie spent Christmas vacation
in 1878 with Tommy's par-
ents in Wilmington, North Carolina.5
Tommy, down from Prince-
ton, warmly welcomed his cousin, who
was now a beautiful young
2 Wilson to Robert Bridges, February 25,
1880. Karl Meyer Collection of the
Correspondence of Woodrow Wilson and
Robert Bridges, Library of Congress.
3 Helen Welles Thackwell, "Woodrow
Wilson and My Mother," Princeton Uni-
versity Library Chronicle, XII (Autumn 1950), 6-18.
4 Ibid.
5 Mother [Helen S. Woodrow] to Harriet
A. Woodrow, December 27, 1878.
Collection of Wilsoniana, Princeton
University Library. Unless otherwise noted, all
letters referred to in this article are
in this collection. In thanking her daughter for
the nice gifts which Harriet had made,
the mother expressed amazement at how her
daughter found time to do so much.
WOODROW WILSON'S FIRST ROMANCE 3
lady of eighteen. Under his father's
roof, Tommy's cousinly regard
was becoming more serious.
Regularly, letters passed between them
from the time Hattie and
Woodrow returned to their respective
schools. Apparently only a
few of the two hundred or more letters
that they wrote to each
other now remain. These have not been
used by the Wilson biog-
raphers and they constitute the basis
of this article.
Soon after Wilson began his law courses
at the University of
Virginia, he began spending week ends
in Staunton. How delighted
he must have been to be near enough to
see Hattie frequently! Not
only did Tommy admire Hattie as a
person but, loving music him-
self, he was happy to sit quietly
beside her while she played and
sang. "His favorite selections
were Mendelssohn's 'Spring Song' and
'The Brook' by Pope."6 Sometimes,
at Tommy's request, Harriet
sang "The Last Rose of
Summer." Often they sang together, Tommy
singing tenor and Harriet soprano. They
sang semiclassical songs,
or popular tunes of the 1880's or
ancient Presbyterian hymns.
Harriet's singing was so exquisite that
Tommy often compared her
voice to that of Adelina Patti. It must
have been soon after Tommy's
first visit to the female seminary that
Harriet's mother wrote her
daughter: "You never have anything
that is disagreeable in your
life."7 Apparently,
Hattie and Woodrow's romance had the ap-
proval of the family.
Christmas vacation, 1879, found Tommy
in the home of his
uncle James Bones. The students at the
university were given only
Christmas Day, but Tommy remained in
Staunton almost a week.
As he wrote Charlie Talcott, a former
Princeton classmate: "I was
absent about a week--taking that
much holiday. We were given
only Christmas Day, but are not
questioned severely if we take
numerous vacations--only persistent neglect
of college duties ex-
poses one to the danger of being
requested to withdraw."8 With
permission from her parents, Hattie
also was a guest in the Bones's
home for the week. On December 28 they
all helped Tommy cele-
6 Thackwell,
"Wilson and My Mother," 8.
7 Helen S. Woodrow to Harriet A. Woodrow, October 16, 1879.
8 Wilson to Charles Talcott, December 31, 1879. Ray Stannard Baker
Papers,
Library of Congress.
4
THE OHIO HISTORICAL QUARTERLY
brate his twenty-third birthday. It was
a day of merriment, with
music, a walk in the mid-winter warmth
at noon, a special dinner
with Tommy's favorite dishes, and gifts
from all the relatives.
A vivid summary of this holiday
vacation for this romantic couple
is found in a letter from James Bones
to Tommy's mother: "We
had a quiet but very pleasant Christmas
and our chief enjoyment
was in having dear Tommie with us for a
week. He captivated all
our hearts most completely, being such
a manly, sensible, affec-
tionate fellow. You certainly have
great reason to be proud of
your big boy. His views of life are so
just, his aims so high and
his heart so full of affectionateness
and kindness that he must
succeed. We hope to see him frequently
as he can easily run over
Saturday afternoon and return by the
early Monday train in time
for his lecture. He has promised to
come often. Hattie spent the
week with us and she and Jessie [Bones]
and Tommy had nice
times together."9
Tommy returned to his law classes and
Hattie continued to spend
hours daily practicing her music. She
had begun to play the organ
in the First Presbyterian Church for
the Sunday evening services.
When she received compliments for her
playing, she forwarded
these to her parents back in Ohio. Her
father, replying for both
parents, expressed delight in her
satisfactory performances.10
Soon after Hattie entered the Augusta
Female Seminary, her
father began the practice of sending
her an occasional barrel of
apples so that she could share them
with all of the students.11 One
may assume that Tommy shared in the
contents of Hattie's apple
barrel. Perhaps he took some of the
fruit back with him to the
University of Virginia to be shared
with his fraternity brothers.
In the spring of 1880, although Tommy
was busy meeting the
demands of his law courses,
participating in debates, giving ora-
tions in the Jefferson Literary
Society, and writing two articles
which appeared in the University of
Virginia Magazine, he confided
to a Princeton chum that he was keeping
his "resolve about visiting
Staunton frequently."12 "Several
times since Christmas," Tommy
9 James Bones to Jessie W. Wilson,
January 13, 1880. Baker Papers.
10 Thomas Woodrow to Harriet Woodrow,
January 18, 1880.
11 Ibid.
12 Wilson to Charles Talcott, May 20,
1880. Baker Papers.
WOODROW WILSON'S FIRST ROMANCE 5
wrote Bobby Bridges, "I have
broken the monotony of constant study
by a trip of a day or two--generally
Saturday and the Sabbath--up
to Staunton. . . . I've enjoyed these
trips immensely, especially as
my cousins are very sweet girls and
their surroundings peculiarly
interesting. I have an aunt who lives
in Staunton at whose home I
stay when there--and the pleasures of
the trip are thus secured
without the ugly objection of an hotel
bill."13
On one of Tommy's week-end visits he
missed the train back to
Charlottesville. For a few hours he
continued to enjoy his "freedom
from Law." He stated in a note to
Hattie: "I was glad to be left
since it was through no fault of mine,
but only through the fault
of Uncle James' watch. An accident
afforded me a few more hours
respite, without compelling me to take
the responsibility of extend-
ing my absence from the
University." He confessed that he would
have given much for even another
glimpse of the object of his
affections before taking a later train.
Indeed, he would have so few
opportunities of seeing Hattie before
she graduated from the semin-
ary that he carefully counted every
chance. During the evening study
hours he went to the seminary, called
on a member of the staff and
her daughter--Mrs. and Miss
Crawford--in the hope of seeing
Hattie again. In spite of the fact that
it was a great temptation to
beg for another sight of his cousin,
Tommy contented himself
with sending her a note "with as
much love as it can carry."14
With the flow of Tommy's ardent letters
and with the increas-
ing frequency of his week-end visits,
Hattie was finding it increas-
ingly difficult to have the long hours
needed for preparation of her
part in the seminary's musical early in
June. She was to appear
on the program several times and was
determined to perform well.
Weeks before the program was scheduled
to be given, Hattie
invited her father and mother to be
present for the occasion. For
some time, apparently, there was no
word from home and then
Hattie received a letter from her
mother saying that her father
planned to visit her at the time of the
concert.15
13 Wilson
to Robert Bridges, February 25, 1880. Meyer Collection.
14 Wilson to Hattie Woodrow, no date,
but obviously in the spring of 1880.
15 Helen S. Woodrow to Harriet Woodrow, May 27, 1880. In this letter
Harriet
is told that her brother Wilson has
recently received a very pleasant letter from
Cousin Tommy Wilson. The invitation letter was not
preserved but the letter cited
speaks of it.
6
THE OHIO HISTORICAL QUARTERLY
Of course, Tommy was invited to
Hattie's senior musical. "I
took that remarkable and delightful
letter of invitation," he wrote
in a joyful mood, "from my
post-office box immediately upon my
return and devoured it with immense
zest." His only regret was that
he could not regard it as a fresh
invitation. If the two "disconsolate
damsels," the writer continued,
enjoyed the recent week-end visit
of their "chosen knight" as
much as he did, they were amply
repaid for the trouble of his
entertainment! "I learn to love my
sweet cousins," he confessed,
"more and more warmly the more I
see of them; and if they return only a
small part of the love I
bear them I may well be content."
For several nights after Tommy returned
to the university campus,
he did not resume his regular habits of
study. In company with other
members of the glee club, he was
"out serenading until after one
o'clock." They sang at several
places, "serenading friends of mem-
bers of the club." As reported by
Tommy, the members of the glee
club had a "very jolly, amusing
time, listening to the tittering at
the windows and collecting in the
darkness the flowers" that were
thrown to them with cards of
appreciation attached. It was rather
amazing, however, continued Tommy, to
be followed by idle
listeners, because it made one feel as
if one were participating in
an itinerant show.
Then, on the following night (Hattie
read in Tommy's long
letter), came the big party at
Professor Venable's. For Charlottes-
ville, it was quite a grand affair. The
university town seldom saw a
full-dressed entertainment such as
Professor Venable's. Tommy
donned a low-cut vest and
swallow-tailed coat for the occasion. He
did not know that a man really has any
better time so dressed but
he feels "as if the occasion were
something out of the ordinary run
and at least tries to persuade himself
that he is having a splendid
time." Tommy declared that he was
careful not to allow himself
to be introduced to any lady that he
was not sure of finding enter-
taining. He visited with quite a number
and managed to talk a great
deal without saying anything. Held on
Thomas Jefferson's birthday
--April 13--the party ended about three
o'clock in the morning
with the cutting of an immense cake,
which had the founder of the
WOODROW WILSON'S FIRST
ROMANCE 7
University of Virginia's name on it,
with the date of his birth in
colored icing. The cake contained a
small gold coin, with the same
inscription on one side of it. After
much distribution of slices of
the cake, one young lady discovered the
gold coin in her slice. For
a second successive night, Tommy found
his way to bed very late
with more neglect to his exacting legal
courses.
As weary as Wilson must have been a day
or so later when he
wrote this long letter to "My
Sweet Rosalind," as he called Hattie
in this letter, he did not close
without pleading with her to have
a picture taken. The one that she had
given him was taken several
years earlier and, he complained, did
not remind him of her as she
really was. He liked the last one she
had made, of which she had
shown him a copy. Would she not secure
a copy of it for him? With
unbounded love he declared himself to
be Hattie's loving cousin.16
The musical in which Hattie had an
important role was a grand
success. Several of Tommy's cousins,
students at the seminary, ap-
peared on the program, but he made a
fool of himself and "scandal-
ized his other cousins," by
cheering loudly and applauding at the
conclusion of Hattie's most significant
number.17 That Hattie im-
pressed her father, as well as Tommy,
was obvious from a letter
written by her mother upon the father's
return home. All that
Hattie's father could talk about,
reported the mother, was his
daughter's character, her talents, her
beauty, her excellency in music
and in French.18
The gods of fate seemed to be
conspiring to promote Tommy's
first love. Tommy's mother decided that
she would accompany her
husband on his travels during the
summer of 1880 and wrote her
beloved brother, Thomas (Hattie's
father), of her dilemma. She
did not know what to do with her two
boys--Tommy and Josie
(Joseph)--as they could not be left
alone in the manse at Wilming-
ton and there was not room for them at
Fort Lewis--a mountain
retreat in Green Valley, western
Virginia. Immediately, Thomas
Woodrow replied, inviting Tommy and
Josie to be their guests for
16 Wilson to Hattie Woodrow, April (no date, but near the end of the
month),
1880.
17 Memorandum in the Baker Papers.
18 Helen
S. Woodrow to Hattie Woodrow, June 11, 1880.
8
THE OHIO HISTORICAL QUARTERLY
the summer. Hattie's father, without
consulting her, suggested
that the Wilson boys join her as she
journeyed homeward. As
Hattie learned from her mother, her
father thought that "Tommie
would be quite an acquisition to the
family for the summer and
Josie will not be too
troublesome."19
Hattie's reactions to these family
plans, which definitely involved
her rapidly developing friendship with
Tommy, are not known. Nor
does the record reveal that Hattie and
Tommy vacationed together
that summer. Apparently, the Wilson
boys did not visit in the
Woodrow home, nor did Hattie accompany
her mother on a visit
to Fort Lewis late in the summer, where
the Wilson boys eventually
spent their vacation. Possibly, Hattie
had begun to realize that
she could never marry her cousin Tommy.
She must have sensed
the sincerity of his love. Realizing
that she did not feel the same
way about him, she chose not to
encourage his affections by vaca-
tioning with him. A further factor,
which Tommy learned from
Jessie Bones, who visited the Wilsons
at Fort Lewis during the
summer, was that his repetitious visits
to Hattie's during the preced-
ing months had created idle gossip.
Wilson wrote inquiringly of
Hattie: "Why didn't you tell me of
the annoyances to which you
were subjected last winter in
consequence of my too frequent visits
to Staunton?" If he had for one
moment so much as dreamed such
a condition existed he would have
forgone himself the great
pleasure which those week-end trips
gave him rather than have her
embarrassed as she must have been,
"by the reports of idle gossip."
If only he had known of it in time to
prevent it by staying away,
but, of course, he added, "you
could not have told me of such a
thing!"20
It was with a pang of sadness that
Tommy Wilson returned to
the law school in September 1880. His
mother and younger brother
Josie went from Fort Lewis to
Charlottesville with him and remained
for several days while Tommy found
lodgings in a new location.
The new quarters, he wrote Hattie,
"are some distance from the
19 Helen S. Woodrow to Hattie Woodrow,
July 8, 1880. Jessie W. Wilson's letter
to Thomas Woodrow and Thomas' reply to his
sister, apparently lost, are mentioned
in Hattie's mother's letter to her.
20 Wilson
to Hattie Woodrow, October 5, 1880.
WOODROW WILSON'S FIRST ROMANCE 9
one I occupied last session and on the
whole, much more pleasantly
situated."21 He spent
his first evening in his new room in writing to
Hattie. He was feeling lonely and
disconsolate at having to
plod through another long session in
the law school and needed
quite badly a long letter from Hattie
to brighten him up. There
was not one bit of news to write about
"from this stupid place," so
Tommy was writing about things in
general which interested him.
Anticipating the future somewhat, Tommy
declared that he knew
of nothing that he dreaded more
intensely than the possibility that
they should drift apart now that they
were separated without any
immediate prospect of seeing each other
soon again.
As for himself, Tommy stated that he
was a great believer in
absolutely free correspondence. He
suspected that one might find
out "almost, if not quite,"
as much about him from his letters as
by associating with him, for he was
very apt to let any thoughts or
feelings "slip more readily from
the end of my pen than from the
end of my tongue." The only
difference, he informed Hattie, was
that by associating with him one might
discover his "unamiable
traits much more clearly than from what
I have deliberately written."
At any rate, since they could not
possibly see each other frequently
that winter, he could ask for no
greater favor than that she would
write him frequent letters full of
herself--"I hope you won't think
that I'm asking too much," he
continued.
Tommy emphasized to Hattie the great
delight that the visit
of her mother--Aunt Helen--and her
brother--Wilson--brought
him and others when they were at Fort
Lewis the previous summer.
He was saddened, however, that she had
not come, too.
Hattie wrote to Tommy about her
family's decision that she
should attend a music conservatory in
Cincinnati that winter.
Naturally, she was elated over the
prospect of developing further
her musical talent. Although he knew
very little about it himself,
Tommy confessed, he easily understood
how music could become
an exceedingly fascinating, as well as
useful, study. He agreed with
Hattie that a thorough mastery of it
was "worth even the sacrifice
of another year away from home. Don't
you think," pleaded Tommy,
21 Ibid.
10
THE OHIO HISTORICAL QUARTERLY
"that some of these days you might
turn teacher and teach me a
little about music?"22
Most of Tommy's colleagues at the
university whom he knew
the preceding year had returned. His
fraternity, the Phi Kappa Psi,
had a much larger membership than
previously. Tommy was trying
desperately to forget his loneliness by
entering into the Phi Psi's
activities with renewed vigor. He did
not plan to take as active
a part in the Jefferson Literary
Society's work as he had the preceding
year. His law studies would, he feared,
compel him to be a silent
member of Old Jeff most of the session,
"but, there's no telling how
soon I'll be tempted into making a
speech."23
Probably Hattie informed Tommy about
the many dates and the
wonderful times that she was having
during the late summer after
she returned to her home in
Chillicothe. Perhaps, Hattie's mother,
during her visit to Fort Lewis, dropped
hints, or told Tommy
frankly, how many friends her talented
daughter was attracting.
In a somewhat retaliatory mood, Tommy
told Hattie that he was
"going to be a systematic visitor
of the young ladies" the ensuing
winter. It would be his last college
year, so he thought, and the
next year he would be obliged to go
into society. "I am afraid," he
admitted, "that I am sadly
deficient in social accomplishments. I
can't talk without anything to say. In
fact, I'm always inclined to
be mum just when I am most
anxious to appear to an advantage
by making myself interesting."
There were, in fact, very few girls
around Charlottesville that he cared to
visit. Indeed, "not a single
one has any special attraction for
me," he concluded.24
Just how much of a "systematic
visitor of the young ladies"
Tommy became in the autumn of 1880 will
probably never be
known. At least once during the fall he
visited Staunton. "Though
very quiet, my visit to Staunton was an
exceedingly pleasant one,"
he confided to Hattie. The principal
feature of the trip, which was
after an early snow, was a fine sleigh
ride. The rest of the visit was
spent indoors. The weather was entirely
too disagreeable to per-
22 Ibid.
23 Ibid.
24 Ibid.
WOODROW WILSON'S FIRST ROMANCE 11
mit a long walk like the ones Tommy and
Hattie took the preceding
winter.25
Whether Tommy succeeded too well in
visiting the young ladies,
or whether he spent too many of his
hours outside the classroom
in work for his fraternity and literary
society, or whether he
strained his physical and mental
faculties with too much study, or
whether he became a victim of what
physicians in the twentieth
century were to call virus infection
cannot now be established.
Whatever the cause, or probably causes,
his health was impaired and
in December he suddenly left the
university. Although ill and back
home with his mother, his father, and
Josie, Tommy refused to be
morose. He revealed a sense of humor in
writing to Bobby Bridges
in speaking of his "tart
side-whiskers." "I began to cultivate a side
crop of some promise before I was
introduced to the Law," he
informed his Princeton chum. Bobby
would be "astonished to see
how vigorous they are. I must have them
'taken' upon the very
earliest opportunity," Tommy
concluded.26 Not for one moment did
the young Wilson, although out of
school because of illness, lose
sight of his exalted ambition: "My
path is a very plain one," he
wrote, "the only question is
whether I will have the strength to
breast the hill and reach the heights
to which it leads. My end
is a commanding influence in the
councils (and counsels) of my
country--and the means to be employed
are writing and speaking.
Hence my desire to perfect myself in
both."27
Near the end of Tommy's third week at
home, he informed
Hattie that his health was slowly
improving. Any rapid improve-
ment was hindered by the miserable
"succession of rains and damp
mists." Indeed, during the almost
three weeks of his stay in Wil-
mington, he had seen only three days of
sunshine. The unpleasant
weather furnished Tommy "with a
capital and a very acceptable
excuse for not visiting" among his
father's parishioners. He had
25 Wilson to Hattie Woodrow, January 15,
1881.
26 Wilson to Robert Bridges, January 1,
1881. Meyer Collection. With a serious
thought of their friendship, Wilson added: "Bobby,
I think that we have every
reason to be thankful for our friendship for each other.
We are bound up in each
other's welfare, and if we only continue
true to ourselves, we need never fear that
we will be untrue to one another."
27 Ibid.
12
THE OHIO HISTORICAL QUARTERLY
made only one social call and that was
"forced" on him. At a
service in his father's church a young
lady rushed up to speak to
him and told him that he must call on
Susie before she returned
to her boarding school. "So on
Susie I was forced to call," he
confided to Hattie.28
With the advent of better weather Tommy
planned to make
more social calls. He had found
Wilmington "full of new-fledged
young ladies," most of whom had
emerged from girlhood since
the winter he spent there five years
earlier, before he entered
Princeton. The older girls, whom he
knew and called on during the
winter of 1874-75, were nearly all
married. Now, a half decade
later, he was practically without
acquaintances of his own age.
His mother, however, urged him to visit
a great deal and, con-
sequently, he anticipated getting
acquainted with the girls whom
he remembered only as children in his
father's church.29
Tommy knew that Hattie would be
interested in a musicale that
his mother intended to have in the
manse. Sister Annie--Mrs.
George Howe--who, in spite of her
houseful of youngsters, had
continued to practice on her piano, was
assisting her mother. Mrs.
Wilson had planned the entertainment
because she felt that she
ought to provide some innocent
amusement for the young people
of her husband's congregation; not
"because of any hope of fine
music." Indeed, according to
Tommy, there was an extraordinary
lack of musical talent in Wilmington;
"but still the best singers
and performers in town belong to our
congregation." Tommy re-
ported later that the entertainment
proved quite a success. A large
number of the young people came and a
goodly sprinkling of their
elders. As for Tommy, the large crowd
were strangers to him, but
he "met some pleasant girls and
was, on the whole, well repaid
for the effort of
entertainment."30
In this long letter Tommy speaks of a
gift he had recently sent
to Hattie. Knowing her fondness for the
writings of Henry W.
Longfellow, he purchased and dispatched
to her a book of poems.
He admitted that he had only a slight
acquaintance with Longfel-
28 Wilson to Hattie Woodrow, January 15, 1881.
29 Ibid.
30 Ibid. The last statements were in a postscript to the letter
proper.
WOODROW WILSON'S FIRST ROMANCE 13
low's writing and confessed that, in
reality, it was the beauty of the
little volume that attracted him rather
than its contents.31 The
*volume was inscribed: "With the
warmest love of Cousin
Tommy."32
A large box of books from the
University of Virginia had just
arrived and Tommy reported to Hattie
that he was arranging a
study on the second floor of the manse.
He expected to be able to
study law quite as well there as at the
university. He had gone far
enough into the study of his law
courses to be able to go it alone
safely. Leaving the university without
completing his law course,
he and Hattie agreed, would not cause
him to suffer very much
inconvenience professionally.
Nevertheless, the leaving had been
difficult. The chief regret, for Tommy,
was that he was compelled
to end his college days abruptly. He
hated to say goodbye to college
life, which, after all, was about the
happiest, "because the freest
from care, that one can lead."
However, he was very anxious to hang
out his professional shingle, and to
earn a good salary before his
thirtieth year came. Consequently, his
hopes for a bright future
prevented his regretting more than was
proper that "the past was
the past."33
Tommy expressed the wish that Hattie,
after having a gay winter
in Cincinnati,
would be contented to stay quietly at home the follow-
ing summer, as she evidently intended
to do the last time the matter
was mentioned. "Are you still of
the same mind?" If she were of
the same opinion, he would promise her
a short visit "as surely as
anything can be promised so long
beforehand. Now that he had
some definite expectation of seeing
Hattie the next summer, the
time would seem all the longer before
it could be realized. Tommy
excused himself for writing at such
great length by declaring that
he simply loved Hattie well enough to
love to write to her "even
when I have to write stupidly."34
Although Tommy was far from feeling
complete confidence in
his stomach's good behavior, time, in
the spring of 1881, treated him
31 Ibid.
32 Thackwell, "Wilson and My
Mother," 11.
33 Wilson to Hattie Woodrow, January 15, 1881.
34 Ibid.
14
THE OHIO HISTORICAL QUARTERLY
kindly. He had nothing harder or more
disagreeable to do than to
read law according to his own devices.35
Tommy began that spring
to teach Latin to his younger brother.
He found that the exercise of
teaching was excellent training for
him. "I had an idea," he wrote,
"that I knew a good deal about
Latin until I came to teach it."36
In Cincinnati, Hattie had found new
quarters and promptly in-
formed Tommy of her new address. He was
delighted with her
good fortune in finding a boarding
place so agreeable. He was also
gratified to learn that she liked her
instructors at the College of
Music and that the teachers were highly
pleased with their new
pupil. That the latter should occur was
to Tommy very much a
matter of course. "They could not
well be otherwise, at least if
they knew her as well as I hope I
do," he declared. Moreover, he
was not afraid of any repetitious
charge of flattery, for an expression
of one's sincere sentiments
could never justly be called flattery--
"and I would rather that you
should doubt anything else about me
than that you should doubt my
sincerity."37
Apparently Hattie wrote Tommy that his
letters were always
interesting. For Tommy, letter writing
was no pleasant chore.
"Although I have written
letters," he confessed, "more or less con-
stantly ever since you and I first
corresponded, and have for a
number of years had numerous regular
correspondents, I still feel
when I sit down to write, even to an
intimate friend, that I have
a hard job before me." Of course
he hastily added that the chore
was not always an unpleasant
task. "Sometimes, as when I write
to you, it is, as you know, altogether
a labor of love."38
Tommy was interested in Hattie's
musical experiences in Cin-
cinnati. The many opportunities of
hearing so much fine music
was an education in itself. And
wouldn't he like to be her escort
to those formal evening entertainments!
The ability to sing, Tommy
wrote, was a much rarer gift than the
ability to play either upon
the organ or the piano--"that is,
the ability to sing well--and it
oftener gives pleasure to a larger
number of persons." Tommy ad-
35 Wilson
to Heath Dabney, March 22, 1881. Robert Heath Dabney Papers in
the Alderman Library of the University
of Virginia.
36 Wilson to Heath Dabney, April 20, 1881. Dabney Papers.
37 Wilson
to Hattie Woodrow, April 22, 1881.
38 Ibid.
WOODROW WILSON'S FIRST ROMANCE 15
mitted that he had never taken any
lessons in singing and of late
he had been taking less pains than
usual in cultivating his voice in
that direction. He had been training
his voice in other directions
quite assiduously, however. "I
practice elocution hard and syste-
matically every day. I intend to spare
no trouble in gaining complete
command of my voice in reading and in
speaking." Hattie must
be prepared to teach him something of
what she was learning in
order that they might sing together
"a little next summer."39
Woodrow was amazed that Hattie was
practicing eight or nine
hours every day. "Are you not
afraid of injuring your health?" he
inquired. He thought that the fatigue
of sitting daily so long on
"so stiff a seat as a piano
stool" would be injurious to her. He
expressed the sincere wish that she
would not hurt herself by too
much zeal. Furthermore, he hoped that
when she tired of practice
she would always write him a
long letter; to rest herself in that way
would result very delightfully for him.
In spite of her prompt
replies, he pleaded, the intervals
between her letters sometimes
seemed to him terribly long. Would she
not write him as soon and
as often as she could?40
Tommy invited Hattie to visit them the
following autumn. "How
delightful it would be if you would
come South next autumn!" he
said. They would talk more about this
in the summer during his
visit to her, to which he "was
looking forward with so much eager-
ness. Do you think that I will or can
be eloquent enough to persuade
you to come?" he wrote.
The day on which Tommy wrote this
letter was May 10, "Decora-
tion Day" in the South. It was the
day on which the members of the
"Ladies Memorial Association"
conducted "the now empty ceremony
of decorating graves of the Confederate
dead." To Tommy this was
a hollow ceremony that he, personally,
regretted. "My regret is that
there should be any such ceremonious decoration
of these graves. I
think," he continued,
"anything that tends to revive or perpetuate
the bitter memories of the war is
wicked folly." As a southerner,
he would, of course, "wish to see
the graves of the Confederate
soldiers kept in order with all loving
care. But all the parade and
39 Ibid.
40 Ibid.
16 THE OHIO HISTORICAL
QUARTERLY
speechmaking, and sentimentality of
'Decoration Day,' are, I think,
exceeding unwise."
In this letter to Hattie, Wilson, in
speaking of Sunday, used the
Biblical term Sabbath. Because of her
conscience, Hattie refused
to attend a concert on Sunday evening
that was given by the music
college faculty. "Isn't it
sad," replied Tommy, "to think how little
respect is had for the Sabbath, not in
Cincinnati only but in most
of the cities of the country!"
Quite naturally, he upheld her in her
decision. "I tell you, Hattie,
Dear," he declared to her, "I am
convinced that a girl who is
conscientious is shut out from a great
many pleasures which seem in themselves
very innocent. But there
would be very little pleasure in going
to a Sabbath concert with an
uneasy conscience as a companion. So
that, after all, one don't miss
much real enjoyment by being
conscientious," he affirmed. Moreover,
if anyone could not "respect and
honor your religion, his good
opinion is scarcely worth having,"
Tommy concluded.
Tommy revealed another trait of his
personality in this interesting
letter to Hattie. It was the occasion,
in his father's church, for the
regular annual Sunday School picnic.
Hitherto he had escaped these
affairs, as he was always away in May,
but this time he felt that
he must go. Then he added that he was
"rather afraid of these
promiscuous picnics. One is never sure of having a nice
time at
them, because one can never be sure of
being able to pick one's
company for the day." Although he
much preferred to choose his
company to go on picnics, he would try
hard "to get with a
pleasant party of girls and manufacture
a nice time for myself."
Certainly, the only way for one to
enjoy a picnic was to "make up
your mind before that you will enjoy it
at all events."41
During the spring there were all sorts
of excursions and entertain-
ments. In such an atmosphere, Tommy
went "pensively among
the darlings" yet unmarried and
wondered how many years of com-
parative starvation would suffice to
bring him enough law practice
to think of risking his "fortunes
in like ventures!"42
Tommy's Aunt Helen invited Tommy to
accompany Jessie Bones,
41 Wilson to Hattie Woodrow, May 10,
1881.
42 Wilson to R. Heath Dabney, May 31, 1881. Dabney Papers.
WOODROW WILSON'S FIRST ROMANCE 17
late in the summer, on a visit to
Chillicothe.43 Once her mother's
invitation had been gladly accepted by
her two cousins--Jessie and
Woodrow--Hattie planned many parties
for the expected guests.
In August Tommy left Wilmington for
Columbia, South Carolina,
to visit with his sister Annie and her
family. Here he was joined by
Jessie Bones, who recently had
graduated from the Augusta Female
Seminary.44 Together they
journeyed to Maysville, Kentucky, where
they visited Woodrow's older sister
Marion--Mrs. A. R. Kennedy--
and her family. Early in September,
Woodrow and Jessie---who was
"a very plump and pleasing person
despite the lean suggestion of
her name"--went to visit the
Woodrows in Ohio. Tommy was
making a "sort of visiting tour
among near relations previous to
settling down to legal practice."45
The Tommy Wilson who visited Hattie
Woodrow in September
1881 was a "tall, slender, deeply
thoughtful young man who was
very much in love." Within a few
days after the arrival of Woodrow
and Jessie, the round of parties began.
Tommy soon tired of the
social whirl. At the third party, in
the middle of a dance with
Hattie, he suddenly asked her in
whispered tones to leave the dance
with him; to go for a walk outside
where he could talk to her
alone. As they strolled arm in arm
along the flower-bordered path
that led to the gate, Woodrow told
Hattie how "dearly he loved
her, that he could not live without her
and pleaded with her to
marry him right away." Although
Hattie admitted that she had a
deep affection for him, she announced
that she did not love him. Not
wishing to hurt him unduly, she
"told him that it would not be right
for them to marry because they were
first cousins." Woodrow, before
leaving home, consulted his parents and
received their approval.
He now told Hattie that his parents and
her father and mother
also wished them to marry. Finally,
Hattie frankly confessed that
she did not love him in the way he
wished, that she could never
love him in that way, and that she
could not possibly marry him.46
Shortly after Hattie and Woodrow
returned to the house, Tommy
43 Thackwell,
"Wilson and My Mother," 13.
44 Wilson to Robert Bridges, August 22,
1881. Meyer Collection.
45 Wilson to Charles Talcott, September
22, 1881. Baker Papers.
46 Thackwell, "Wilson and My Mother," 13.
18
THE OHIO HISTORICAL QUARTERLY
excused himself, went to his room,
packed his bag, and went to a
hotel. He engaged a room and spent the
night in wide-awake
agony.47 There, after many
sleepless hours, he wrote on a torn piece
of yellow paper a last pleading note to
her: "Now, Hattie, for my
sake, and for your own, reconsider
the dismissal you gave me to-
night. I cannot sleep tonight--so give
me the consolation of think-
ing," he plead, while waiting the
near approach of dawn, "that
there is still one faint hope left to
save me from the terror of des-
pair." Tommy signed the note "yours if you
would."48 But she
would not!
At Woodrow's request, Hattie had
another long talk with him
the next morning. She repeated her
opinions given to him the
preceding night, which, she said, were
final. She urged him to return
to her home and continue his visit, but
Woodrow was determined
to leave Chillicothe on the first
train. Both Tommy's Aunt Helen and
his Uncle Thomas expressed regret at
his sudden departure. Hattie's
brother, Wilson, accompanied Woodrow to
the railroad station.
There they met Edward Freeman Welles,
the handsome young man
whom Hattie was later to marry. By
invitation from Hattie, he was
arriving from Marietta to attend one of
the parties given in honor
of Jessie and Woodrow. The meeting of
Edward and Woodrow was
cool and formal. Edward was amazed that
Woodrow was leaving
and urged him to remain. Aside to
Hattie's brother, Woodrow con-
cluded: "If his sentiment is not
merely formal--as it probably is--
it is not genuine. If he has any
feeling at seeing me go away, it is
probably a feeling of relief at getting
me out of the way."49
A few hours later, the same day,
Woodrow, from a hotel lobby
in Ashland, Kentucky, endeavored to
explain his hasty departure.
"My Darling," he began,
"I suppose that to many my abrupt de-
parture ... would seem a little hard to
understand . . . . But I saw
several reasons for doing so. One was
that you seemed to desire it;
another was that I thought . . . I owed
it to you to leave matters . . .
as they stand--to trust all to you; and
yet I felt that, after the
terrible nervous strain I had gone
through, I would not be sure of
47 Ibid., 14.
48 Wilson to Hattie Woodrow
[September 19], 1881.
49 Wilson to Hattie Woodrow,
September 20, 1881.
WOODROW WILSON'S FIRST ROMANCE 19
having control enough over myself to
leave the subject alone. So
to go away was the kindest service I
could do you; and I did it
as such, notwithstanding the tremendous effort it cost
me."
"Will you do me a great favor--and
do it on my own terms?"
asked Woodrow. He wanted her to go to
Simonds' gallery in her
"pink dress, or any other dress
similarly cut about the neck since
the photograph can't reproduce the
color--and have a cabinet
photograph taken in profile. Let
the picture include your figure to
the waist. Let your head be slightly
bent forward and your eyes
slightly downcast." There were two
more conditions: "there must
be only one copy of the photograph . .
. and I must bear the expense
of the work, since it is to be done
especially for me." Fearing per-
haps that she might not comply, he
insisted, "Won't you indulge
this whim of mine please?" Almost
forgetting other details, he
hastily added, "Don't wear any
hat, but let your hair be dressed as
it usually is in the mornings."50
Eventually Woodrow accepted the
situation as inevitable. His
revealing comments to Robert Bridges
closed one of the most fas-
cinating episodes of Wilson's early
life: "I have passed through an
experience," he confided, "which
has had a very deep effect upon me
and which has made me feel all the more
eager for the sympathy
of my old and dearest friends . . . .
[He had gone] to Chillicothe,
Ohio, to visit the family of my
mother's brother, Thomas Woodrow,
after whom I was named . . . . I was
confirmed in my visit there,
in a passion which had for some years
been irresistibly growing
upon me--in love for my cousin, Hattie
Woodrow. She went to
school in Virginia in a place a few
hours ride from Charlottesville,
during my first winter at the
University of Virginia, and it was then
and there that I . . . was first
attracted to her . . . . I never knew
a handsomer, more intelligent, noble or
lovable girl than she! After
that winter in Virginia we corresponded
regularly until my visit
last summer. I then, as in honor bound,
told her of the character
of my love for her--and she, with such
assurances as led me to
believe that she did so only because of
our near blood-relationship,
refused me.
50 Ibid.
20
THE OHIO HISTORICAL QUARTERLY
"Now, Bobby, I've related this
experience to you in a very bungl-
ing, incoherent way, but I know that
you will appreciate the em-
barrassments under which I write. You
are the only person, outside
the circle of my own nearest kin, to
whom a word of this matter has
been breathed; and I need not tell you
that even at this distance of
time I am unable to speak of it without
such a feeling as makes
clear expression next to impossible.
You know me well enough to
believe that, although not quickly
excited, my love is all the more
vehement when once aroused; and you
can, therefore, readily
understand the suffering I have
undergone during the last few
months. My disappointment has been the
keener and the less endur-
able because of the conviction that my
cousin really loved me as
much as I could have desired and
rejected me only because of a
prejudice which made her regard it as
her duty to do so.
"Of course, I am not such a
weakling as to allow myself to be
unmanned even by a disappointment such
as this; I have already in
great part recovered from the shock,
but, naturally, my work has
been considerably broken in upon, and
you will not be surprised
to find out that I am not yet in
Atlanta."51
In Atlanta he was to hang out his
professional shingle in the
early summer of 1882.
51 Wilson to Robert Bridges,
March 15, 1882. Meyer Collection.