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[Life in Brunswick, December 1850]
- University of Iowa Press
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M [41] [Life in Brunswick, December 1850] Harriet Beecher Stowe My Dear Sister,—Is it really true that snow is on the ground and Christmas coming, and I have not written unto thee, most dear sister? No, I don’t believe it! I haven’t been so naughty—it’s all a mistake—yes, written I must have—and written I have, too—in the nightwatches as I lay on my bed— such beautiful letters—I wish you had only received them; but by day it has been hurry, hurry, hurry, and drive, drive, drive! or else the calm of a sickroom , ever since last spring. I put off writing when your letter first came, because I meant to write you a long letter,—a full and complete one; and so days slid by,—and became weeks,—and my little Charley came . . . etc. and etc.!!! Sarah, when I look back, I wonder at myself, not that I forget any one thing that I should remember, but that I have remembered anything. From the time that I left Cincinnati with my children to come forth to a country that I knew not In 1849, Calvin Stowe was appointed to the faculty at Bowdoin College in Brunswick, Maine, and the Stowes moved there from Cincinnati in the spring of 1850. The move was a difficult one for Stowe, who gave birth to her final child, Charles Edward, in July. Further, Stowe was recovering from illness and losses, beginning with the suicide of her brother George Beecher in 1843. But the most devastating blow had been the death of her infant son, Samuel Charles. Born in January 1848, “Charley” died of cholera in July 1849 and the Stowes buried him near Walnut Hills, their home in Cincinnati. In Brunswick, Stowe was quite occupied with her children and the new baby, setting up a household, and adjusting to life in a new place, far from her father and stepmother in Cincinnati. Letters from family members helped her, and she, in turn, wrote as frequently as she could. In her biography, Life and Letters of Harriet Beecher Stowe (1898), Annie Fields reprinted a letter that Stowe wrote to Sarah Buckingham Beecher, the widow of her brother George. In this letter , Stowe humorously describes the first summer in Brunswick and provides insight into both her domestic duties and her interest in returning to writing. Stowe house, Brunswick, Maine. Harriet Beecher Stowe Center, Hartford, Connecticut. Harriet Beecher Stowe [43] of almost to the present time, it has seemed as if I could scarcely breathe, I was so pressed with care. My head dizzy with the whirl of railroads and steamboats; then ten days’ sojourn in Boston, and a constant toil and hurry in buying my furniture and equipments; and then landing in Brunswick in the midst of a drizzly, inexorable north-east storm, and beginning the work of getting in order a deserted, dreary, damp old house. All day long running from one thing to another, as, for example, thus:— “Mrs. Stowe, how shall I make this lounge, and what shall I cover the back with first?” Mrs. Stowe. “With the coarse cotton in the closet.” Woman. “Mrs. Stowe, there isn’t any more soap to clean the windows.” Mrs. Stowe. “Where shall I get soap?” “Here, H., run up to the store and get two bars.” “There is a man below wants to see Mrs. Stowe about the cistern. Before you go down, Mrs. Stowe, just show me how to cover this round end of the lounge.” “There’s a man up from the depot, and he says that a box has come for Mrs. Stowe, and it’s coming up to the house; will you come down and see about it?” “Mrs. Stowe, don’t go till you have shown the man how to nail that carpet in the corner. He’s nailed it all crooked; what shall he do? The black thread is all used up, and what shall I do about putting gimp on the back of that sofa? Mrs. Stowe, there is a man come with a lot of pails and tinware from Furbish; will you settle the bill now?” “Mrs. Stowe, here is a letter just come from Boston inclosing that bill of lading ; the man wants to know what he shall do with the goods. If you will tell me what to say, I will answer the letter for you.” “Mrs. Stowe, the meat-man is at the door...