HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
1811-1896
Harriet Beecher Stowe, the first distinguished woman writer of
America, was born at Litchfield, Conn., in those old New England days
when children were taught that good little girls must always speak
gently, never tear their clothes, learn to knit and sew, and make all
the responses properly in church. Such is her own story of her early
education, to which is also added the item that on Sunday afternoons
she was expected to repeat the catechism, and on the occasion of a
visit to her grandmother, her aunt made her learn two catechisms, that
of her own faith, the Episcopal, and that of Harriet's father, who was
a Presbyterian minister. This discipline, however, had no depressing
effect upon the child, whose family consisted of a half-dozen healthy,
clever brothers and sisters, a father who was loved more than revered
even in those days when a minister was regarded with awe, and a
stepmother whose devotion made the home-life a thing of beauty to be
held in all after-years in loving memory.
The old Presbyterian parsonage where Harriet was born had in it one
room that was the child's chief delight. This was her father's study,
in a corner of which she loved to ensconce herself with her favorite
books gathered around her, and read or day-dream, while her father sat
opposite in his great writing-chair composing the sermon for the next
Sunday. Children's books were not plentiful in those days, and Miss
Edgeworth's _Tales_ and Cotton Mather's _Magnalia_ were her principal
resource, until one joyful day, rummaging in a barrel of old sermons,
she came upon a copy of _The Arabian Nights_. These flowers of fairy
lore took healthy root in the imagination of the little Puritan child,
whose mind had hitherto resembled the prim flower-beds of the New
England gardens, where grew only native plants. The old stories opened
a new world of thought, and into this unknown realm she entered,
rambling amid such wonderful scenes that never again could their
mysterious charm cease; when some time later her father came down from
his study one day with a volume of _Ivanhoe_ in his hand, and said: "I
did not intend that my children should ever read novels, but they must
read Scott," another door into the realm of fairy was opened to the
delighted child.
This power to lift and lose herself in a region of thought so
different from her own, became thereafter the peculiar gift by
which she was enabled to undertake the work which made her name
distinguished.
The library corner, however, did not hold all the good things of life,
only part of them. Outside was the happy world of a healthy country
child, who grew as joyously as one of her own New England flowers.
In the spring there were excursions in the woods and fields after
the wild blossoms that once a year turned the country-side into
fairy-land; in the summer was the joy of picnics in the old forests,
and of fishing excursions along the banks of the streams; in the
autumn came nutting parties, when the children ran races with the
squirrels to see who could gather the most nuts; and in the winter,
when the snow and ice covered the earth, life went on as gayly as
ever, with coasting and snow-balling, and the many ways in which the
child's heart tunes itself to the spirit of nature.
By the time she was five years old Harriet was a regular pupil at a
small school near by, whither she also conducted, day after day,
her younger brother, Henry Ward Beecher, afterward the celebrated
preacher. She was a very conscientious little pupil, and besides her
school lessons, was commended for having learned twenty-seven hymns
and two long chapters in the Bible during one summer. School-life
henceforth was the serious business of existence, and in her twelfth
year she appears as one of the honor pupils at the yearly school
exhibition, and was gratified by having her composition read in the
presence of the distinguished visitors, her father, the minister,
being among the number. The subject of the composition was the
immortality of the soul, and into it Harriet had woven, as only a
clever child could, all the serious thoughts that she had gleaned
from theological volumes in the library, or sermons that her father
preached, or from the grave conversations that were common among the
elders of the family. It was listened to with great approval by the
visitors, who saw nothing absurd in the idea of a child of twelve
discoursing upon such a subject, and it was especially pleasing to
Harriet's father, which so delighted the affectionate heart of the
little writer that she felt no higher reward could be hers.
Harriet's first flight from the home nest came in her thirteenth year,
when she left Litchfield to attend her sister Catherine's school in
Hartford. As her father's salary did not permit any extra expense,
Harriet went to live in the family of a friend, who in turn sent his
daughter to the parsonage at Litchfield that she might attend
the seminary there. This exchange of daughters was a very happy
arrangement as far as Harriet was concerned, as she enjoyed the
responsibility of being so much her own guardian, and took care
of herself and her little room with what she herself calls "awful
satisfaction."
Here she began the study of Latin, which fascinated her, the Latin
poetry making such an impression on her mind that it became her dream
to be a poet. Pages and pages of manuscript were now written in the
preparation of a great drama called "Cleon," the scene of which was
laid in the time of the Emperor Nero. Every moment that could be
spared from actual duties was given to this play, which might have
grown to volumes had not the young author been suddenly brought up
sharply by her sister, who advised her to stop writing poetry and
discipline her mind. Whereupon Harriet plunged into a course of
Butler's _Analogy_ and other heavy reading, forgot all about the
drama, and was so wrought upon by Baxter's _Saint's Rest_ that she
longed for nothing but to die and be in heaven.
The next years of Harriet's life were spent almost entirely at the
Hartford school, where she was successively pupil and teacher until
her father removed to Cincinnati, whither she accompanied him with
the intention of helping her sister to found a college for women. And,
although all undreamed of, it was in this place that she was first to
feel the inspiration of the work that made her famous. During a short
visit across the Ohio River into Kentucky, she saw for the first time
a large plantation and something of the life of the negro slaves.
Though apparently noticing little of what was before her eyes, she
was really absorbing everything with all the keenness of a first
impression. The mansion of the planter and the humble cot of the
negro, the funny pranks and songs of the slaves, and the pathos that
touched their lives, all appealed to her so strongly that, years
afterward, she was able to reproduce with utmost faithfulness each
picturesque detail of plantation life.
In her twenty-fifth year Harriet was married to Professor Stowe, of
Lane Seminary. She had for some time been a contributor to various
periodicals, and continued her literary work after her marriage,
producing only short sketches for various papers, an elementary
geography, and a collection of sketches in book form under the title,
_The Mayflower_. These efforts had been well received by publishers,
and friends prophesied a satisfactory career, but it was many years
afterward before the author gave herself to the literary life with the
earnestness and devotion which so characterized her nature.
Some of her experiences in this Western home, where living was so
primitive, were very funny, and some were very trying; but through
them all Mrs. Stowe kept a clear head and brave heart. Sometimes she
would be left without warning with the entire care of her house and
children; often her literary work was done at the sick-bed of a child;
and more than once a promised story was written in the intervals of
baking, cooking, and the superintendence of other household matters;
one of her stories at this time was finished at the kitchen table,
while every other sentence was addressed to the ignorant maid, who
stood stupidly awaiting instructions about the making of brown bread.
After seventeen years' experience in the Western colleges, Professor
Stowe accepted a professorship at Bowdoin, and the family removed
to Brunswick, Me. Here her stories and sketches, some humorous, some
pathetic, still continued to add to the household's income, and many a
comfort that would have been otherwise unknown was purchased with the
money thus obtained.
Mrs. Stowe's first important book took the form of an appeal for the
freedom of the slaves of the South. One day, while attending communion
service in the college chapel, she saw, as in a mental picture, the
death-scene of Uncle Tom, afterward described in her celebrated
book. Returning home, she wrote out the first draft of that immortal
chapter, and calling her children around her read it to them. The two
eldest wept at the sad story, which from this beginning grew into the
book which made its author famous over the civilized world. In _Uncle
Tom's Cabin_ it was Mrs. Stowe's aim to present the every-day life of
the Southern plantation. She chose for her hero one of those typical
negro characters whose faithfulness and loyalty would so well
illustrate the fidelity of his race, while his sad story would make an
appeal for the freedom of his people.
Into this story she wove descriptions of Southern life, delineations
of negro character, and so many incidents, pathetic and humorous, that
it seemed to present when finished a life-like picture of plantation
life. The pathetic figure of Uncle Tom, the sweet grace of Eva,
the delightful Topsy, and the grim Yankee spinster show alike the
sympathetic heart and mind of the author, who linked them so closely
together in the invisible bonds of love. The beautiful tribute that
St. Clair pays to his mother's influence in one of the striking
passages of the book, was but a memory of Mrs. Stowe's own mother,
who died when her daughter was four years old. No one could read this
pathetic tale without being touched by the sorrows beneath which the
negro race had bowed for generations, and through which he still kept
a loyal love for his white master, a pride in the family of which he
counted himself a member, and that pathetic patience which had been
the birthright of his people.
The book _Uncle Tom's Cabin_, or _Life Among the Lowly_, ran first as
a serial, and came out in book form in 1852. Into it the author had
thrown all the seriousness of her nature, and it met with overwhelming
success. It was translated into twenty different languages, and Uncle
Tom and Eva passed, like the shadow and sunlight of their native land,
hand in hand into the homes, great and humble, of widely scattered
nations.
Another plea for the negro called _Dred, a Tale of the Dismal Swamp_,
followed _Uncle Tom's Cabin_ within a few years, after which Mrs.
Stowe turned her attention to the material that lay closer at hand,
and began the publication of a series of New England life. Into these
she put such a wealth of sympathetic reminiscences, with such a fund
of keen observation, that they stand easily as types of the home-life
of her native hills. The first of this series was _The Minister's
Wooing_, a story of a New England minister's love. It is full of the
sights and scenes familiar to the author from childhood, and is a
faithful picture of Puritan village life, wherein are introduced
many characters as yet new in fiction. Unlike Hawthorne, who sought
inspiration in the spiritual questions which so largely made up the
life of the Puritans, Mrs. Stowe found her delight in giving the
home-life, the household ambitions, the village interests, a place in
literature, thus preserving a phase of society which has passed away
even in her own lifetime.
_The Minister's Wooing_ appeared simultaneously with _The Pearl of
Orr's Island_, a tale of the Maine coast, in which are introduced an
aged fisherman and his old brown sea-chest, and other characters and
accessories all imbued with the true sea flavor and forming a story
which Whittier pronounced the most charming New England idyll ever
written.
In _Old Town Folks_, the most delightful perhaps of her New England
stories, Mrs. Stowe has drawn the character of Harry from the memory
of her husband's childhood. Professor Stowe had been one of those
imaginative children, who, when alone, conjure up visions of fairies
and genii to people empty space. He spent many an hour in following
the pranks of these unreal people. He imagined that these creatures of
his brain could pass through the floor and ceiling, float in the air
and flit through meadow or wood, sometimes even rising to the stars.
Sometimes they took the form of friendly brownies who would thresh
straw and beans. Two resembled an old Indian man and woman who fought
for the possession of a base viol. Another group was of all colors and
had no shape at all; while the favorite was in human form and came and
answered to the name of Harry.
Besides her New England tales, Mrs. Stowe wrote a charming novel,
_Agnes of Sorrento_, the scene of which is laid in Italy.
_Little Foxes_, _Queer Little People_, and _Little Pussy Willow_ are
three books for children, written in the intervals of more serious
work which included several other novels and some volumes of sketches.
In all her work appears a warm love of humanity, which she studied
under many conditions.
Soon after the publication of _Uncle Tom's Cabin_ Mrs. Stowe accepted
an invitation from the Anti-Slavery Society of Glasgow to visit
Scotland; her reception was in reality an ovation from the nation. At
every railroad station she had to make her way through the crowds that
had gathered to welcome her. Every city she visited honored her with
a public greeting, and even her sight-seeing excursions to cathedrals
and places of interest were made the occasions of demonstrations of
joy from the crowds which quickly gathered. From the nobility to
the peasants, who stood at their doors to see her pass by, she was
everywhere received as one who had done noble work for the cause of
freedom. In England she met with the same enthusiasm, and, both from
England and Scotland she received large sums of money to be used for
the advancement of the anti-slavery cause in America. Mrs. Stowe has
left a sketch of this pleasant episode in her life in a little work
called _Sunny Memories_.
Some years later she purchased a winter home in Florida, and here she
erected a building to be used as church and school-house by the poorer
inhabitants. In this she conducted Sunday-school, singing and sewing
classes. Her pleasant experiences in her Southern home are embodied in
a series of sketches called _Palmetto Leaves_.
On the seventieth anniversary of her birthday her publishers arranged
a garden party in her honor, to which were invited all the literary
celebrities of America. It calls up a pleasant picture to think of her
thus surrounded by the distinguished men and women who had gathered to
do honor not only to her work for literature, but to that nobility of
soul that had made her long life a service for others.
Whittier, Holmes, and many others contributed poems on this occasion.
In American literature Mrs. Stowe stands as its chief woman
representative before the Civil War, taking high place by right among
the novelists whose sphere is the presentation of national life.