Books: The Life of Harriet Beecher Stowe

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Now there is nothing that Southern political leaders and capitalists
so dread as anti-slavery feeling among themselves. All the force of
lynch law is employed to smother discussion and blind conscience on
this question. The question is not allowed to be discussed, and he who
sells a book or publishes a tract makes himself liable to fine and
imprisonment.

My book is, therefore, as much under an interdict in some parts of the
South as the Bible is in Italy. It is not allowed in the bookstores,
and the greater part of the people hear of it and me only through
grossly caricatured representations in the papers, with garbled
extracts from the book.

A cousin residing in Georgia this winter says that the prejudice
against my name is so strong that she dares not have it appear on the
outside of her letters, and that very amiable and excellent people
have asked her if such as I could be received into reputable society
at the North.

Under these circumstances, it is a matter of particular regret that
the "New York Observer," an old and long-established religious paper
in the United States, extensively read at the South, should have come
out in such a bitter and unscrupulous style of attack as even to
induce some Southern papers, with a generosity one often finds at the
South, to protest against it.

That they should use their Christian character and the sacred name of
Christ still further to blind the minds and strengthen the prejudices
of their Southern brethren is to me a matter of deepest sorrow. All
those things, of course, cannot touch me in my private capacity,
sheltered as I am by a happy home and very warm friends. I only grieve
for it as a dishonor to Christ and a real injustice to many noble-
minded people at the South, who, if they were allowed quietly and
dispassionately to hear and judge, might be led to the best results.

But, my lord, all this only shows us how strong is the interest we
touch. _All the wealth of America_ may be said to be interested
in it. And, if I may judge from the furious and bitter tone of some
English papers, they also have some sensitive connection with the
evil.

I trust that those noble and gentle ladies of England who have in so
good a spirit expressed their views of the question will not be
discouraged by the strong abuse that will follow. England is doing us
good. We need the vitality of a disinterested country to warm our
torpid and benumbed public sentiment.

Nay, the storm of feeling which the book raises in Italy, Germany, and
France is all good, though truly 'tis painful for us Americans to
bear. The fact is, we have become used to this frightful evil, and we
need the public sentiment of the world to help us.

I am now writing a work to be called "Key to Uncle Tom's Cabin." It
contains, in an undeniable form, the facts which corroborate all that
I have said. One third of it is taken up with judicial records of
trials and decisions, and with statute law. It is a most fearful
story, my lord,---I can truly say that I write with life-blood, but as
called of God. I give in my evidence, and I hope that England may so
fix the attention of the world on the facts of which I am the
unwilling publisher, that the Southern States may be compelled to
notice what hitherto they have denied and ignored. If they call the
fiction dreadful, what will they say of the fact, where I cannot deny,
suppress, or color? But it is God's will that it must be told, and I
am the unwilling agent.

This coming month of April, my husband and myself expect to sail for
England on the invitation of the Anti-Slavery Society of the Ladies
and Gentlemen of Glasgow, to confer with friends there.

There are points where English people can do much good; there are also
points where what they seek to do may be made more efficient by a
little communion with those who know the feelings and habits of our
countrymen: but I am persuaded that England can do much for us.

My lord, they greatly mistake who see, in this movement of English
Christians for the abolition of slavery, signs of disunion between the
nations. It is the purest and best proof of friendship England has
ever shown us, and will, I am confident, be so received. I earnestly
trust that all who have begun to take in hand the cause will be in
nothing daunted, but persevere to the end; for though everything else
be against us, _Christ_ is certainly on our side and He _must
at last prevail_, and it will be done, "not by might, nor by power,
but by His Spirit." Yours in Christian sincerity, H. B. STOWE.

Mrs. Stowe also received a letter from Arthur Helps [Footnote: Author
of _Spanish Conquest in America_.--ED.] Accompanying a review of
her work written by himself and published in "Fraser's Magazine." In
his letter Mr. Helps took exception to the comparison instituted in
"Uncle Tom's Cabin" between the working-classes of England and the
slaves of America. In her answer to this criticism and complaint Mrs.
Stowe says:--

MR. ARTHUR HELPS: _My dear Sir_,--I cannot but say I am greatly
obliged to you for the kind opinions expressed in your letter. On one
point, however, it appears that my book has not faithfully represented
to you the feelings of my heart. I mean in relation to the English
nation as a nation. You will notice that the remarks on that subject
occur in the _dramatic_ part of the book, in the mouth of an
intelligent Southerner. As a fair-minded person, bound to state for
both sides all that could be said in the person of St. Clare, the best
that could be said on that point, and what I know _is_ in fact
constantly reiterated, namely, that the laboring class of the South
are in many respects, as to physical comfort, in a better condition
than the poor of England.

This is the slaveholder's stereotyped apology,--a defense it cannot
be, unless two wrongs make one right.

It is generally supposed among us that this estimate of the relative
condition of the slaves and the poor of England is correct, and we
base our ideas on reports made in Parliament and various documentary
evidence; also such sketches as "London Labor and London Poor," which
have been widely circulated among us. The inference, however,
which _we_ of the freedom party draw from it, is _not_ that
the slave is, on the whole, in the best condition because of this
striking difference; that in America the slave has not a recognized
_human_ character _in law, has not even an existence_,
whereas in England the law recognizes and protects the meanest
subject, in theory _always_, and in _fact_ to a certain
extent. A prince of the blood could not strike the meanest laborer
without a liability to prosecution, in _theory_ at least, and
that is something. In America any man may strike any slave he meets,
and if the master does not choose to notice it, he has no redress.

I do not suppose _human nature_ to be widely different in England
and America. In both countries, when any class holds power and wealth
by institutions which in the long run bring misery on lower classes,
they are very unwilling still to part with that wealth and power. They
are unwilling to be convinced that it is their duty, and unwilling to
do it if they are. It is always so everywhere; it is not English
nature or American nature, but human nature. We have seen in England
the battle for popular rights fought step by step with as determined a
resistance from parties in possession as the slaveholder offers in
America.

There was the same kind of resistance in certain quarters there to the
laws restricting the employing of young children eighteen hours a day
in factories, as there is here to the anti-slavery effort.

Again, in England as in America, there are, in those very classes
whose interests are most invaded by what are called popular rights,
some of the most determined supporters of them, and here I think that
the balance preponderates in favor of England. I think there are more
of the high nobility of England who are friends of the common people
and willing to help the cause of human progress, irrespective of its
influence on their own interests, than there are those of a similar
class among slaveholding aristocracy, though even that class is not
without such men. But I am far from having any of that senseless
prejudice against the English nation as a nation which, greatly to my
regret, I observe sometimes in America. It is a relic of barbarism for
two such nations as England and America to cherish any such unworthy
prejudice.

For my own part, I am proud to be of English blood; and though I do
not think England's national course faultless, and though I think many
of her institutions and arrangements capable of much revision and
improvement, yet my heart warms to her as, on the whole, the
strongest, greatest, and best nation on earth. Have not England and
America one blood, one language, one literature, and a glorious
literature it is! Are not Milton and Shakespeare, and all the wise and
brave and good of old, common to us both, and should there be anything
but cordiality between countries that have so glorious an inheritance
in common? If there is, it will be elsewhere than in hearts like mine.

Sincerely yours, H. B. STOWE.

CHAPTER VIII.

FIRST TRIP TO EUROPE, 1853.

THE EDMONDSONS.--BUYING SLAVES TO SET THEM FREE.--JENNY LIND.--
PROFESSOR STOWE is CALLED TO ANDOVER.--FITTING UP THE NEW HOME.--THE
"KEY TO UNCLE TOM'S CABIN."--"UNCLE TOM" ABROAD.--HOW IT WAS PUBLISHED
IN ENGLAND.--PREFACE TO THE EUROPEAN EDITION.--THE BOOK IN FRANCE.--IN
GERMANY.--A GREETING FROM CHARLES KINGSLEY.--PREPARING TO VISIT
SCOTLAND.--LETTER TO MRS. FOLLEN.

Very soon after the publication of "Uncle Tom's Cabin" Mrs. Stowe
visited her brother Henry in Brooklyn, and while there became
intensely interested in the case of the Edmondsons, a slave family of
Washington, D.C. Emily and Mary two of the daughters of Paul (a free
colored man) and Milly (a slave) Edmondson, had, for trying to escape
from bondage, been sold to a trader for the New Orleans market. While
they were lying in jail in Alexandria awaiting the making up of a gang
for the South, their heartbroken father determined to visit the North
and try to beg from a freedom-loving people the money with which to
purchase his daughters' liberty. The sum asked by the trader was
$2,250, but its magnitude did not appall the brave old man, and he set
forth upon his quest full of faith that in some way he would secure
it.

Reaching New York, he went to the anti-slavery bureau and related his
pitiful story. The sum demanded was such a large one and seemed so
exorbitant that even those who took the greatest interest in the case
were disheartened over the prospect of raising it. The old man was
finally advised to go to Henry Ward Beecher and ask his aid. He made
his way to the door of the great Brooklyn preacher's house, but,
overcome by many disappointments and fearing to meet with another
rebuff, hesitated to ring the bell, and sat down on the steps with
tears streaming from his eyes.

There Mr. Beecher found him, learned his story, and promised to do
what he could. There was a great meeting in Plymouth Church that
evening, and, taking the old colored man with him to it, Mrs. Stowe's
brother made such an eloquent and touching appeal on behalf of the
slave girls as to rouse his audience to profound indignation and pity.
The entire sum of $2,250 was raised then and there, and the old man,
hardly able to realize his great joy, was sent back to his despairing
children with their freedom money in his hand.

All this had happened in the latter part of 1848, and Mrs. Stowe had
first known of the liberated girls in 1851, when she had been appealed
to for aid in educating them. From that time forward she became
personally responsible for all their expenses while they remained in
school, and until the death of one of them in 1853.

Now during her visit to New York in the spring of 1852 she met their
old mother, Milly Edmondson, who had come North in the hope of saving
her two remaining slave children, a girl and a young man, from falling
into the trader's clutches. Twelve hundred dollars was the sum to be
raised, and by hard work the father had laid by one hundred of it when
a severe illness put an end to his efforts. After many prayers and
much consideration of the matter, his feeble old wife said to him one
day, "Paul, I'm a gwine up to New York myself to see if I can't get
that money."

Her husband objected that she was too feeble, that she would be unable
to find her way, and that Northern people had got tired of buying
slaves to set them free, but the resolute old woman clung to her
purpose and finally set forth. Beaching New York she made her way to
Mr. Beecher's house, where she was so fortunate as to find Mrs. Stowe.
Now her troubles were at an end, for this champion of the oppressed at
once made the slave woman's cause her own and promised that her
children should be redeemed. She at once set herself to the task of
raising the purchase-money, not only for Milly's children, but for
giving freedom to the old slave woman herself. On May 29, she writes
to her husband in Brunswick:--

"The mother of the Edmondson girls, now aged and feeble, is in the
city. I did not actually know when I wrote 'Uncle Tom' of a living
example in which Christianity had reached its fullest development
under the crushing wrongs of slavery, but in this woman I see it. I
never knew before what I could feel till, with her sorrowful, patient
eyes upon me, she told me her history and begged my aid. The
expression of her face as she spoke, and the depth of patient sorrow
in her eyes, was beyond anything I ever saw.

"'Well,' said I, when she had finished, 'set your heart at rest; you
and your children shall be redeemed. If I can't raise the money
otherwise, I will pay it myself.' You should have seen the wonderfully
sweet, solemn look she gave me as she said, 'The Lord bless you, my
child!'

"Well, I have received a sweet note from Jenny Lind, with her name
and her husband's with which to head my subscription list. They give a
hundred dollars. Another hundred is subscribed by Mr. Bowen in his
wife's name, and I have put my own name down for an equal amount. A
lady has given me twenty-five dollars, and Mr. Storrs has pledged me
fifty dollars. Milly and I are to meet the ladies of Henry's and Dr.
Cox's churches tomorrow, and she is to tell them her story. I have
written to Drs. Bacon and Button in New Haven to secure a similar
meeting of ladies there. I mean to have one in Boston, and another in
Portland. It will do good to the givers as well as to the receivers.

"But all this time I have been so longing to get your letter from New
Haven, for I heard it was there. It is not fame nor praise that
contents me. I seem never to have needed love so much as now. I long
to hear you say how much you love me. Dear one, if this effort impedes
my journey home, and wastes some of my strength, you will not murmur.
When I see this Christlike soul standing so patiently bleeding, yet
forgiving, I feel a sacred call to be the helper of the helpless, and
it is better that my own family do without me for a while longer than
that this mother lose all. _I must redeem her._

_"New Haven, June_ 2. My old woman's case progresses gloriously.
I am to see the ladies of this place tomorrow. Four hundred dollars
were contributed by individuals in Brooklyn, and the ladies who took
subscription papers at the meeting will undoubtedly raise two hundred
dollars more."

Before leaving New York, Mrs. Stowe gave Milly Edmondson her check for
the entire sum necessary to purchase her own freedom and that of her
children, and sent her home rejoicing. That this sum was made up to
her by the generous contributions of those to whom she appealed is
shown by a note written to her husband and dated July, 1852, in which
she says:--

"Had a very kind note from A. Lawrence inclosing a twenty-dollar gold-
piece for the Edmondsons. Isabella's ladies gave me twenty-five
dollars, so you see our check is more than paid already."

Although during her visit in New York Mrs. Stowe made many new
friends, and was overwhelmed with congratulations and praise of her
book, the most pleasing incident of this time seems to have been an
epistolatory interview with Jenny Lind (Goldschmidt). In writing of it
to her husband she says:--

"Well, we have heard Jenny Lind, and the affair was a bewildering
dream of sweetness and beauty. Her face and movements are full of
poetry and feeling. She has the artless grace of a little child, the
poetic effect of a wood-nymph, is airy, light, and graceful.

"We had first-rate seats, and how do you think we got them? When Mr.
Howard went early in the morning for tickets, Mr. Goldschmidt told him
it was impossible to get any good ones, as they were all sold. Mr.
Howard said he regretted that, on Mrs. Stowe's account, as she was
very desirous of hearing Jenny Lind. 'Mrs. Stowe!' exclaimed Mr.
Goldschmidt, 'the author of "Uncle Tom's Cabin"? Indeed, she shall
have a seat whatever happens!'

"Thereupon he took his hat and went out, returning shortly with
tickets for two of the best seats in the house, inclosed in an
envelope directed to me in his wife's handwriting. Mr. Howard said he
could have sold those tickets at any time during the day for ten
dollars each.

"Today I sent a note of acknowledgment with a copy of my book. I am
most happy to have seen her, for she is a noble creature."

To this note the great singer wrote in answer:--

MY DEAR MADAM,--Allow me to express my sincere thanks for your very
kind letter, which I was very happy to receive.

You must feel and know what a deep impression "Uncle Tom's Cabin" has
made upon every heart that can feel for the dignity of human
existence: so I with my miserable English would not even try to say a
word about the great excellency of that most beautiful book, but I
must thank you for the great joy I have felt over that book.

Forgive me, my dear madam: it is a great liberty I take in thus
addressing you, I know, but I have so wished to find an opportunity to
pour out my thankfulness in a few words to you that I cannot help this
intruding. I have the feeling about "Uncle Tom's Cabin" that great
changes will take place by and by, from the impression people receive
out of it, and that the writer of that book can fall asleep today or
tomorrow with the bright, sweet conscience of having been a strong
means in the Creator's hand of operating essential good in one of the
most important questions for the welfare of our black brethren. God
bless and protect you and yours, dear madam, and certainly God's hand
will remain with a blessing over your head.

Once more forgive my bad English and the liberty I have taken, and
believe me to be, dear madam,

Yours most truly, JENNY GOLDSCHMIDT, _née_ LIND.

In answer to Mrs. Stowe's appeal on behalf of the Edmonsons, Jenny
Lind wrote:--

MY DEAR MRS. STOWE,--I have with great interest read your statement of
the black family at Washington. It is with pleasure also that I and my
husband are placing our humble names on the list you sent.

The time is short. I am very, very sorry that I shall not be able to
_see_ you. I must say farewell to you in this way. Hoping that in
the length of time you may live to witness the progression of the good
sake for which you so nobly have fought, my best wishes go with you.
Yours in friendship,

JENNY GOLDSCHMIDT.

While Mrs. Stowe was thus absent from home, her husband received and
accepted a most urgent call to the Professorship of Sacred Literature
in the Theological Seminary at Andover, Mass.

In regard to leaving Brunswick and her many friends there, Mrs. Stowe
wrote: "For my part, if I _must_ leave Brunswick, I would rather
leave at once. I can tear away with a sudden pull more easily than to
linger there knowing that I am to leave at last. I shall never find
people whom I shall like better than those of Brunswick."

As Professor Stowe's engagements necessitated his spending much of the
summer in Brunswick, and also making a journey to Cincinnati, it
devolved upon his wife to remain in Andover, and superintend the
preparation of the house they were to occupy. This was known as the
old stone workshop, on the west side of the Common, and it had a year
or two before been fitted up by Charles Munroe and Jonathan Edwards
[Footnote: Students in the Seminary.] as the Seminary gymnasium.
Beneath Mrs. Stowe's watchful care and by the judicious expenditure of
money, it was transformed by the first of November into the charming
abode which under the name of "The Cabin" became noted as one of the
pleasantest literary centres of the country. Here for many years were
received, and entertained in a modest way, many of the most
distinguished people of this and other lands, and here were planned
innumerable philanthropic undertakings in which Mrs. Stowe and her
scholarly husband were the prime movers.

The summer spent in preparing this home was one of great pleasure as
well as literary activity. In July Mrs. Stowe writes to her husband:
"I had no idea this place was so beautiful. Our family circle is
charming. All the young men are so gentlemanly and so agreeable, as
well as Christian in spirit. Mr. Dexter, his wife, and sister are
delightful. Last evening a party of us went to ride on horseback down
to Pomp's Pond. What a beautiful place it is! There is everything here
that there is at Brunswick except the sea,--a great exception.
Yesterday I was out all the forenoon sketching elms. There is no end
to the beauty of these trees. I shall fill my book with them before I
get through. We had a levee at Professor Park's last week,--quite a
brilliant affair. Today there is to be a fishing party to go to Salem
beach and have a chowder.

"It seems almost too good to be true that we are going to have such a
house in such a beautiful place, and to live here among all these
agreeable people, where everybody seems to love you so much and to
think so much of you. I am almost afraid to accept it, and should not,
did I not see the Hand that gives it all and know that it is both firm
and true. He knows if it is best for us, and His blessing addeth no
sorrow therewith. I cannot describe to you the constant undercurrent
of love and joy and peace ever flowing through my soul. I am so happy
--so blessed!"

The literary work of this summer was directed toward preparing
articles on many subjects for the "New York Independent" and the
"National Era," as well as collecting material for future books. That
the "Pearl of Orr's Island," which afterward appeared as a serial in
the "Independent," was already contemplated, is shown by a letter
written July 29th, in which Mrs. Stowe says: "What a lovely place
Andover is! So many beautiful walks! Last evening a number of us
climbed Prospect Hill, and had a most charming walk. Since I came here
we have taken up hymn-singing to quite an extent, and while we were
all up on the hill we sang 'When I can read my title clear.' It went
finely.

[Illustration: THE ANDOVER HOME]

"I seem to have so much to fill my time, and yet there is my Maine
story waiting. However, I am composing it every day, only I greatly
need living studies for the filling in of my sketches. There is 'old
Jonas,' my 'fish father,' a sturdy, independent fisherman farmer, who
in his youth sailed all over the world and made up his mind about
everything. In his old age he attends prayer-meetings and reads the
'Missionary Herald.' He also has plenty of money in an old brown sea-
chest. He is a great heart with an inflexible will and iron muscles. I
must go to Orr's Island and see him again. I am now writing an article
for the 'Era' on Maine and its scenery, which I think is even better
than the 'Independent' letter. In it I took up Longfellow. Next I
shall write one on Hawthorne and his surroundings.

"To-day Mrs. Jewett sent out a most solemnly savage attack upon me
from the 'Alabama Planter.' Among other things it says: 'The plan for
assaulting the best institutions in the world may be made just as
rational as it is by the wicked (perhaps unconsciously so) authoress
of this book. The woman who wrote it must be either a very bad or a
very fanatical person. For her own domestic peace we trust no enemy
will ever penetrate into her household to pervert the scenes he may
find there with as little logic or kindness as she has used in her
"Uncle Tom's Cabin." There's for you! Can you wonder now that such a
wicked woman should be gone from you a full month instead of the week
I intended? Ah, welladay!"

At last the house was finished, the removal from Brunswick effected,
and the reunited family was comfortably settled in its Andover home.
The plans for the winter's literary work were, however, altered by
force of circumstances. Instead of proceeding quietly and happily with
her charming Maine story, Mrs. Stowe found it necessary to take notice
in some manner of the cruel and incessant attacks made upon her as the
author of "Uncle Tom's Cabin," and to fortify herself against them by
a published statement of incontrovertible facts. It was claimed on all
sides that she had in her famous book made such ignorant or malicious
misrepresentations that it was nothing short of a tissue of
falsehoods, and to refute this she was compelled to write a "Key to
Uncle Tom's Cabin," in which should appear the sources from which she
had obtained her knowledge. Late in the winter Mrs. Stowe wrote:--

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