Life of Harriet Beecher Stowe _

er Brother George.-Sickness and Despair.-A Journey in Search of Health.-Goes to Brattleboro' Watercure.

the necessities of life. For example, salt (coarse) has sold in Cincinnati this winter for three dollars a bushel; rice eighteen cents a pound; coffee fifty cents a pound; white sugar the same; brown sugar twenty cents; molasses a do

expect to visit you next summer, as I shall deliver the Phi Beta Kappa oration at Dar

d children during the following summer, and before

derick William, after the sturdy Prussian king, for

thic shrine; only did we know it rightly, nothing is trivial, since the human soul, with its awful shadow, makes all things sacred." So in writing a biography it is impossible for us to tell what did and what did not powerfully

writing to Miss May

n my eyes, and for two months not only made it impossible for me to use them in writing, but to fix them with attention on anything. I could not even bear the least light of day i

lf as a person greatly blessed. It is true that about six months out of the twelve I have been laid up with sickness, but then I have had every comfort and the kindest of nurses in my faithful

ar-old daughter Hatty with her. In writing from there to her husband she c

nd. Drop the E. out of your name. It only incumbers it and interferes with the flow and euphony. Write yourself fully and always Harriet Beecher Stowe, which is a na

tates. He was pleased to assure me of the great satisfaction my report on Prussian schools had afforded the king and members of his court, with much more to the same effect. Of course having a real live lord to exhibi

woman like you in this wide world. Who else has so much talent with so little self-conceit; so much reputation with so little affectation; so much literature with so little nonsense; so mu

etter Mrs. Stowe wr

very close print. Is he to be depended on? If so, it is the best offer I have received yet. I shall get something from the Harpers some time this winter or spring. Robertson, the publisher here, says the book ('The Mayflower') will sell, and though the terms they offer me are very low, that

ts. They are delicate in health, and nervous and excitable, and need a mothe

pple's room. I can put the stove in it. I have bought a cheap carpet for it, and I have furniture enough at home to furnish it comfortably, and I onl

and dressing and washing of children, and everything else going on, and the constant falling of soot and coal dust on everything in the room was a constant annoyance to me, and

ed and dressed and keep their playthings in the room above, and play there when we don't want them below. You can study by the parlor fire, and I and my plants, etc., will take the other

this letter Prof

several of whom will take agencies for it during the coming vacation. You have it in your power by means of this little magazine to form the mind of the West for the coming generation. It is just as I told you in my la

ding out more and more (what I knew very well before) that you are the mo

f Mrs. Stowe's letters from Hartford in which she says: "I was telling Belle yesterday that I did not know till I came away how much I was dependent upon you for information. There a

etter she writ

ty with me. It is the failing of a mind not calculated to endure a great pressure of care, and so much do I feel the pressure I am und

am not probably destined for long life; at all events, the feeling is strongly impressed upon my mind that a work is put into my hands which I must be earn

traveled for the first time by rail, and of this

August

our passage along this railroad re

roar and t

d dangers fi

ours and a half at the passing place this side of Auburn, waiting for them to come up and go by us. The consequence was that we got into this Rochester depot aforesaid after dark, and the steamboat, the canal-boat, and the Western train of cars had all been kept waiting three hours beyond their usual time, and they all broke loose upon us the moment we put our heads out of the cars, and such a jerking, an

o'clock at night to get to Batavia, and I'

sickness and gloom." Typhoid fever raged among the students of the seminary, and the house of the president was conv

ay, a most terrible and overwhelming sorrow came on Mrs. Stowe, in common wit

the fatal report and saw the smoke, but the trees shut out the rest from sight. . . . In about half an hour after, the family assembled at breakfast, and the servant was sent out to call him. . . . In a few minutes she returned, exclaiming, 'Oh, Mr. Beecher is dead! Mr. Beecher is dead!' . . . In a short time a visitor in the family, assisted by a passing laborer, raised him up and bore him to the house. His face was pale and but slightly marred, his eyes were closed, and over his countenance rested the sweet expression of peaceful slum

and finally rose so as nearly to cover the hemisphere, sending

hing thunder, the fear of being overtaken in an unfrequented place and the lights extinguished by the rain, the sad events of the day, the cries of the infant boy sick wi

all the affection of his people and friends, was just this, no more! After all, the deepest and most powerful argument for the religion of Christ is its power in times like this. Take from us Christ

'Rejoice, inasmuch as ye are made partakers of Christ's sufferings, that

d by a protracted illness and a struggle with great p

k of entirely destitute young men in the seminary, as poor in money as they are rich in mental and spiritual resources. They promise to be as fine a band as those we have just sent off. We have two from Iowa and Wisconsin who wer

terest in the struggling seminary and raise funds for its maintenance.

uld sew every day for a month to come I should not be able to accomplish a h

at year and well into the next, when, during her husband's absence to

16,

to closets, and seeing a great deal of that dark side of domestic life which a housekeeper may who will investigate too curiously into minuti? in warm, damp we

and then the clothes will not dry, and no wet thing does, and everythin

petite, or rather a growing distaste for food; in fact, I am becoming quite ethereal. Upon reflection I perceive that it pleases my Father to keep me in the fire, for my whole situation is excessively harassing and painful. I suffer with sensible distress in the brain, as I have done more or less since

she takes all Anna's strength and time with her; and then the children are, like

and exhaustion is nothing to this distress. Yet do I rejoice in my God and know in whom I believe, and only pray that the fire may consume the d

I need not ask a physician to see that it is needful to me as far as health is concerned, that is to say, all human appearances are that way, but I feel no particular choice abo

. She was not, however, permanently benefited by the change, and in the following spring it was deemed necessary to take more radical measures to arrest the progress of her i

er date of March,

s. Some friend has always stepped in to cheer and help, so that I have wanted for nothing. My husband has developed wonderfully as house-father and nurse. You would laugh to see him in his spectacles gravely marching the little troop in their nightgowns u

eparture Professor Sto

G. W. Bull of New York, inclosing $50 on account of the sickness in my family. There was another inclosing $50 more from a Mrs. Devereaux of Raleigh, N. C., besi

rusoe and man Friday sort of style, greatly t

Catherine and Mary, who were also suffering from troubles

hout seeing her husband or children. During these weary months her

ng this period, are of value, as revealing what it is possible

o', Septem

to restore my health that I may do something for you and my family. I think if I were only at home I could at least sweep and dust, and wash potatoes, and cook a little, and talk some to my children, and should be do

ive me these five years in full possession of mind and body, that I may train my children as they should be trained. I am fully aware of the importance of system and order in a family. I know that nothing can be done without it; it is the keystone, the sine qua non, and in regard to my children I place it next to piety. At the same time it is tr

t result from bodily ill health, and I wish you would make one that your own mind may be more vividly impressed with it. The world is too much in a hurry. Ministers think there is no way

rcely have feeling enough to dress me. After that I have walked till I was warm, and come home to breakfast with such an appetite! Brown bread and milk are luxuries indeed, and the only fear is that I may eat too much. At eleven comes my douche, to which I have walked in

forget and throw it off. I should really rejoice to hear that you and father and mother, with Professor and Mrs. Allen, Mrs. K., and a few others of the same calibre would agree to meet together for dancing cotillons. It would do you all good, and if you took Mr. K.'s wife and poor Miss Much-Afraid, her daughter, into the alliance it would do them good. Bless me! what a profane set everybody would think you

ary,

sorry to find it's just so. I entirely agree and sympathize. Wh

ng! Dead

tlemen, who had pished and pshawed at his wife and us for trying to get up a little fun. This poem was fronted with the above vignette and embellis

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ingdom o

he good

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and on

, being

ne into

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hat's so

iends are a

urn up

n on hi

ave onl

tones an

pe. To see things as through a glass darkly is your infirmity, you know; but the Lord will yet deliver you from this trial. I know how to pity you, for the last three weeks I have suffered fr

Stowe returned to her Cincinnati home, where she was welcomed

by the very precarious state of his health to remain until September, 1849. During this period of more than a year Mrs. Stowe remained in Cincinnati caring for her six children, eking out her slender income by taking boarders and writing when she found time, confront

was in so strange a state that I felt no disposition to write. After the birth of little Charley my health improved, but my husband

cares endless. I wish you could see me with my flock all around me. They sum up my cares, and were they

with anxiety for the safety of his family, was most anxious, in spite of his feeble health, to return and share the danger with them, but t

ses, while furniture carts and common vehicles are often employed for the removal of the dead. The sable trains which pass our windows, the frequent indications of crowding

orted, and that night the air was of that peculiarly oppressive

ble to render us any help. To exchange the salubrious air of Brattleboro' for the pestilent atmosphere of this place with your system rendered sensitive by

ick, and it is very unce

many of us that it is not at all l

ever before. Large piles of coal were burning on the cross walks and in the public squares, while those who had talked confidently of the ch

city, the mayor issued a proclamation for a day of general fa

d Dr. Pulte ought, I suppose, to be there also. The younger physicians have no rest night or day. Mr. Fisher is laid up from his incessant visitations with the sick and dying

will witness a fresh harvest of death from them. How we can become accustomed to anything! Awhile ago ten a day dying of cholera struck terror to all hearts; but now the tide has surged up gradually until the deaths average over a hundred daily, and everybody is getting accustomed to it. Gentlemen

ems like a death sentence, and I will not dissemble that I feel from the outset very little hope. I still think it best that you should not return

aged and frightened me. He mentioned dropsy on the brain as a possible result. I came ho

few minutes relieved. Then I turned my attention to Charley, who was also suffering, put him into a wet sheet, and kept him there until he was in a profuse perspiration. He is evidently getting

walk or play, and so miserably fretful and unhappy. Sunday Anna and I were fairly stricken down, as many others are, with no particul

died yesterday morning, taken sick the day before while washing. Good, honest,

e affectionate thing! If I were half as good for my nature as she for hers I should be much better than I am. While we were all mourning over her the news came

s gradually sinking. After a partial recovery from the attack I described in my last letter he continued for some days very feeble, but

get here, and the epidemic is now said by the physicians to prove fatal to every new case. Bear up. Let

ly

ide and joy. Many a heartache has he cured for me. Many an anxious night have I held him to my bosom and felt the sorrow and loneliness pass out of me with the touch of his little warm hands. Yet I have just seen him in his death agony, looked on his imploring face when I could not help nor soothe nor do one thing, not one,

or in September, 1849, Professor Stowe returned from Brattleboro', and at the same time received a c