She writes
respecting it: "It is more to me than a story; it is my resume of the
whole spirit and body of New England, a country that is now exerting
such an influence on the civilized world that to know it truly becomes
an object." But there were weary lengths of roads to be traveled by a
woman already overladen with responsibilities and in delicate health
before such a book could reach its consummation.
"I must cry you mercy," she begins one of the notes to her publisher,
"and explain my condition to you as well as possible." The "condition"
was frequently to be explained! Proofs were not ready when they were
promised, the press was stopped, and both author and publisher
required all the tender regard they really had for each other and all
the patience they possessed to keep in tune. She says, "I am sorry to
trouble you or derange your affairs, but one can't always tell in
driving such horses as we drive where they are going to bring up."
She started off in this long journey very hopefully, writing that she
would like to begin printing at once, because "to have the first part
of my book in type will greatly assist me in the last." A month later
she writes: "Here goes the first of my nameless story, of which I can
only say it is as unlike everything else as it is like the strange
world of folks I took it from. There is no fear that there will not be
as much matter as 'Uncle Tom's Cabin,'--there will. There could be an
endless quantity if I only said all I can see and think that is
strange and curious.
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