The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1889-04-08
HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.
Her Appearance and Health-As She Is in Her
Hometown She Views Her Past Life.

not a figure which,, if described infinitely,
would afford any pleasure to the thousands
of her friends and admirers. 1t is best that
they remember her as she was rather than
as she is. The failure of her health dates
back several years, but since the death
of her husband, two years ago, her de-
cline has seemed more perceptible to
her family. In September last, when
she was removed to her Hartford
home from her Long island retreat,
whittier she haG gone for rest and quiet
ness, she was on the very threshold CT
death. Whether it was softening or hard
ening of the brain, or neither, but simply
the breaking up of a somewhat delicate
organization from the ravages of age
and a life of nervous excitement,
the doctors never said. That there
was little or no chance Of her
recovery they did affirm. and she was
brought back to her Hartford home, as
everybody supposed, to die. For a time
she lay between life and death, and then
recovered her bodily health, but with a
mind shattered. That she may die at any
moment is to be expected; that she may
live on for months the history of such cases
makes probable; that she VIII ever again
be the Mrs. Stowe Of ever a year ago is
impossible.
1 had not seen the great authoress for
two years, which fact led her son to re-
mark. as we walked to his mothers house:
You will find mother greatly changed; her
physical appearance is better than when
you last saw her; she has gained flesh and
energy, but her mind is SO impaired that it
Still he added. "you nav find her quite
bright and a little like her own old self,
for at times and for short intervals her
mind partially resumes its sway"
1t was a beautiful afternoon that we had
selected for our visit, and as We entered the
gate to Mrs. Stoves front yard the warm
sun was bathing the house and glittering
brightly from the glass roof of Mark
Twain's greenhouse. just behind it. AS
with q perfect fusillade of barks and
a andlne astSS Gnafii ao oid ' psgs, wv" Punch naS
and Missy, anne tumbling down the
stairway. Presently Mrs. Stoves twin
daughters. Harriet and Eliza, who live
with her and keep house, came down and
greeted us pleasantly. They were shortly
followed by Mrs. Stowe herself. Much to
my surprise and satisfaction, after a short
While she reemem bered me perfectly. That
l was shocked at the change in her it is
and talked to her from time to time she
would take my hand, and c~lasping it
tightly in both of hers, look at me in such
~ WOuQeTluR, plClIul SOrb OIL way, as IL Suc
did not know after all exactly who
/ was, that the tears almost came to my
eyes. She stayed in the room some twenty
minutes. at times answering questions adj
dressed to her in her old bright way,
and then again making remarks entirely IT.
| relevant to the subject under discussion.
Finally she said she must bid us all good
bye, which she did warmly and g%raciOusly,
and left the room. No strangers are now
admitted under any circumstances to see
Il NrC Sfnurn md nhn 10 1nnf INDIAN thu
s~trictest espionage so that her declining
days may be free from excitement or an
noyance.
undiminished, and with his education she
is as strongly in sympathy to-day as she
was a quarter of a century ago in the days
of his bondage. Upon my recent visit a
story happened to be told where in a prom
inent Southern cOlOred institute the dis
tinction was made of separate dining ia
bles for white teachers and the colored
students. This story seemed to inspire
Mrs. Stowe with her old fire. II in a mo-
ment her eyes, almost expressionless when
in repose, were full of glitter and sparkle.
For a moment l saw the Harriet Beecher
Stowe of twenty years age, as she ex-
| claiIned:
t~i"Shameful! Can such things be at this
| timef There might have been some reason
for such q distinction twenty-five years
ago; now, it is dastardly and unworthy of
our times"
Would you be willing, mother. to eat at
the same table with cOlOred peoples" in
CURED her son.
"Would l be willing? Charlie. l am sur
prised you should ask me such a question!
OF course l would, and gladly! Why should
mott Are they not the children of God
the same as wef"
When in the bright intervals which come
to her, Mrs. Stowe talks freely and pleas
antly. She is a confirmed optimist. Speak
| ing, only a few days ago, she said:
Look back on the past and see how our
race has been brought up, Just as a nursing
mother will rear a child. L believe that in
our lives what ought to happen will hap
PEN.
There is much true religion and real
kindness in the world after all, and he who
has struck a nerve and hurt us by a harsh
word would be very sorry for it if he knew
be cruel. TIL fact is one man is by nature
a hammer and another a saw, and when we
are all shaken up together in the same bag,
the saw saws US and the hammer pounds
what iAthe use7 We should not take it ill of
them. There are .pious,. we~ll-intending
hammers, saws and all other kinds of in
struments; they are all good, except when
they come in the, way of our fingers. /
have suffered much in my day from things
that have invaded my personality; but
words don't kill or l SHOULD have been dead
long ago."
Mrs. Stowe IS conscious that her mind is
impaired, and, in speaking of this, she said
to me:
Il can't remember what I read nova
days. My mind is a blank. But / am re-
solved unto owe. / love everybody, even
to the dirtiest beggar upon the street"
L ventured to ask her how she regarded
her past life, and she answered.: my life
seems Xix a dream. My work is lone and
/ am enjoying the luxury of perfect rest
and freedom. and often think of the old
woman described in the verses beginning:
''WhO always was tired,
Cause she lived in a house
Where help wasn't hired, ETC.,
and of whom it was related in her dying
moments that she folded her hands with
her latest endeavor saying, Nothing, dear
nothing, sweet nothing forever"
Only a month ago Mrs. Stowe received a
warm letter of friendship and sympathy
from Mr.. Gladstone. 1t Is dated from Italy,
and expresses sympathy for her present
health. closing with a glowing tribute to
her life and works. This letter led me to
ask Mrs. Stoves opinion of the English
statesman, to which she replied, her face
lighting up:
MIR. Gladstone is to me a great man,
and for him l have the most profound adj
miration, but the fact is / feel lost since
my husband died, for no always kept me
up with what was going on in the world.
and i was always in touch with events and
ever interested. / do not know now what
is going on in the political and scientific
world, but l have the deepest admiration
and respect for and confidence in Mr.. Glad
stone aS a mani