Though they were frequently separated for one reason or another, the couple managed to have seven children (some of whom died tragically; their first-born were twins, born almost exactly nine months after their marriage). On one of those occasions when they were apart, Mrs. Stowe wrote to her husband that she was "dependent" on him: "There are a thousand favorite subjects on which I could talk with you better than with any one else. If you were not already my dearly loved husband I should certainly fall in love with you." In 1842, Mr. Stowe wrote to his wife, "I want you to come home as quick as you can. The fact is I cannot live without you... There is no woman like you in this wide world."
Though today known mostly for her 1852 novel Uncle Tom's Cabin, Harriet Beecher Stowe was a prolific writer of novels and short stories. Her book Oldtown Folks hearkened back to an earlier United States, before the Civil War, and was inspired heavily by her husband's New England years; the narrator, Horace Holyoke, was born in Natick, Massachusetts, just like Mr. Stowe. One section in particular seems to hearken to Mrs. Stowe's own personal struggles in becoming a domestic housewife:
My mother's gayety of animal spirits, her sparkle and vivacity, all went with the first year of marriage. The cares of housekeeping, the sicknesses of maternity and nursing, drained her dry of all that was bright and attractive; and my only recollections of her are of a little quiet, faded, mournful woman, who looked on my birth and that of my brother Bill as the greatest of possible misfortunes, and took care of us with a discouraged patience, more as if she pitied us for being born than as if she loved us.
*I can't help but think these words are not entirely true to her thoughts. She meant to comfort her friend, who was recently engaged and apparently nervous about her impending marriage. For the information in this post, I am indebted to Philip McFarland's Loves of Harriet Beecher Stowe (2007).