And in the secret of Thy presence dwelleth
Fulness of joy, forever and forever.
It was the writing of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” that brought world-wide fame to this unusual mother. The family had moved from Cincinnati to Brunswick, Maine, where Professor Stowe had accepted a position in the faculty of Bowdoin College. There were six children now and the father’s income was meager. In order to help meet the family expenses, Mrs. Stowe began to write articles for a magazine known as the “National Era.” She labored under difficulties. “If I sit by the open fire in the parlor,” she wrote, “my back freezes, if I sit in my bedroom and try to write my head and my feet are cold.... I can earn four hundred dollars a year by writing, but I don’t want to feel that I must, and when weary with teaching the children, and tending the baby, and buying provisions, and mending dresses, and darning stockings, I sit down and write a piece for some paper.”
The passage of the Fugitive Slave Act aroused the deepest feeling among Abolitionists in the North. While living in Cincinnati her family had aided the so-called “underground railway,” by which runaway slaves were helped in their efforts to reach the Canadian boundary. Now Mrs. Stowe’s spirit burned within her. “I wish,” she writes at this period, “some Martin Luther would arise to set this community right.”
It was then she conceived the idea of writing “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.” In the month of February, 1851, while attending communion service in the college church at Brunswick, the scene of the death of Uncle Tom passed before her mind like the unfolding of a vision. When she returned home she immediately wrote down the mental picture she had seen. Then she gathered her children around her and read what she had written. Two of them broke into violent weeping, the first of many thousands who have wept over “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.”
The first chapter was not completed until the following April, and on June 5 it began to appear in serial form in the “National Era.” She had intended to write a short tale of a few chapters, but as her task progressed the conviction grew on her that she had been intrusted with a holy mission. Afterwards she said: “I could not control the story; it wrote itself.” At another time she remarked: “The Lord himself wrote it, and I was but the humblest of instruments in His hand. To Him alone should be given all the praise.”
Mrs. Stowe received $300 for her serial story! However, scarcely had the last instalment appeared when a Boston publisher made arrangements to print it in book form. Within one year it had passed through 120 editions, and four months after the book was off the press the author had received $10,000 in royalties. Almost in a day Mrs. Stowe had become one of the most famous women in the world, and the specter of poverty had been banished forever. “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” exerted a profound influence not only over the American people, but its fame spread to Europe. The year following its publication Jenny Lind came to America. Asked to contribute to a fund Mrs. Stowe was raising for the purpose of purchasing the freedom of a slave family, the “Swedish Nightingale” gladly responded, also writing a letter to Mrs. Stowe in the following prophetic vein: “I have the feeling about ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin’ that great changes will take place by and by, from the impression people receive from it, and that the writer of that book can fall asleep today or tomorrow with the bright, sweet consciousness of having been a strong means in the Creator’s hand of having accomplished essential good.”
Tributes like this came to Mrs. Stowe from the great and lowly in all parts of the world.
Concerning Jenny Lind’s singing, Mrs. Stowe wrote to her husband from New York: “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.”
Mrs. Stowe died in 1896 at the ripe age of eighty-four. Not long before her death she wrote to a friend: “I have sometimes had in my sleep strange perceptions of a vivid spiritual life near to and with Christ, and multitudes of holy ones, and the joy of it is like no other joy—it cannot be told in the language of the world.... The inconceivable loveliness of Christ!... I was saying as I awoke: