Lowell's mother was in poor mental health, and his wife was physically frail. These troubles combined with a lack of money conspired to make Lowell almost a recluse, but he continued to produce writings which show the interest he took in affairs. He contributed poems to the daily press, prompted by the
slavery question; early in
1846, he was a correspondent of the
London Daily News, and in the spring of
1848 he formed a connection with the
National Anti-Slavery Standard of New York, agreeing to contribute weekly either a poem or a prose article. The prose articles form a series of incisive, witty and sometimes prophetic diatribes.
It was a period of great mental activity, and four books which stand as witnesses to the Lowell of 1848, namely, the second series of
Poems, containing among others
Columbus,
An Indian Summer Reverie,
To the Dandelion,
The Changeling,
A Fable for Critics, in which, after the manner of Leigh Hunt's
The Feast of the Poets, he characterizes in witty verse and with good-natured satire American contemporary writers, and in which, the publication being anonymous, he included himself;
The Vision of Sir Launfal, a romantic story suggested by the
Arthurian legends — one of his most popular poems; and finally
The Biglow Papers.
Lowell had already acquired a reputation, but this satire brought him wider fame. The book was not premeditated; a single poem, inspired by the recruiting for the abhorred
Mexican-American War, couched in rustic phrase and sent to the
Boston Courier, made him a leader of the little army of Anti-Slavery reformers. Lowell discovered what he had done at the same time that the public did, and he followed the poem with eight others, either in the
Courier or the
Anti-Slavery Standard.
He developed four well-defined characters in the process: a country farmer, Ezekiel Biglow, and his son Hosea; the Rev. Homer Wilbur, a shrewd old-fashioned country minister; and Birdofredum Sawin, a Northern renegade who enters the army, together with one or two subordinate characters; and his stinging
satire and sly humor are so set forth in the vernacular of
New England as to give at once a historic dignity to this form of speech (Later he wrote an elaborate paper to show the survival in New England of the English of the early
17th century). He embroidered his verse with an entertaining apparatus of notes and mock criticism; even his index was spiced with wit. The book was a caustic arraignment of the course taken in connexion with the annexation of
Texas and the Mexican-American War.
The death of Lowell's mother, and the fragility of his wife's health, led Lowell, his wife, their daughter Mabel and their infant son Walter, to go to
Europe in
1851, and they went direct to
Italy. Walter died suddenly in
Rome, and they received news of the illness of Lowell's father. They returned in November
1852, and Lowell published some recollections of his journey in the magazines, collecting the sketches later in a prose volume,
Fireside Travels. He took part in the editing of an American edition of the British Poets, but the state of his wife's health preoccupied him, and only her death (
27 October 1853) released him from the strain of anxiety, the grief accompanied by a readjustment of his nature and a new intellectual activity.
At the invitation of his cousin, he delivered a course of lectures on English poets at the Lowell Institute in
Boston in the winter of
1855. This first formal appearance as a critic and historian of literature at once gave him a new standing in the community, and he was elected to the Smith Professorship of Modern Languages in
Harvard College, made vacant by the retirement of
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Lowell accepted the appointment, with the proviso that he should have a year of study abroad. He spent it mainly in
Germany, visiting
Italy, and increasing his acquaintance with the French, German, Italian and Spanish languages.
He returned to America in the summer of
1856, and began his college duties, retaining his position for twenty years. As a teacher he proved a quickener of thought amongst students, rather than a close instructor. His power lay in the interpretation of literature rather than in linguistic study, and his influence over his pupils was exercised by his own fireside as well as in the relation, always friendly and familiar, which he held to them in the classroom. In
1856 he married Frances Dunlap, who was in charge of his daughter Mabel.