In 1871, Horatio Spafford’s only son died of scarlet fever. In 1872, the great Chicago Fire destroyed all ofthe real estate Horatio had invested in. Horatio’s family was friends with the prominent evanglelist, D. L. Moody, who was in England at the time. In light of the multiple hardships faced by his family, Horatio decided for his familiy to holiday in England, where also they would join with Moody and offer him help.
Before the family was to set sail, urgent business arose and Horatio had to delay his departure, but instead sent his family on and he would meet them when he could. So Anna, his wife, and his four daughters set out on their voyage across the Atlantic.
Nine days later, Horatio received a telegram from Anna who had arrived in Wales. It read, “Saved alone.” On November second, their ship had colided with another, sinking in a mere 12 minutes. Anna stood on the deck with her daughters at her side, where one by one they were ripped from her side by the rushing water. She alone was saved as a floating plank propped up her unconscious body.
On hearing the news, Horatio boarded the next ship bound for England. While sailing, the captain alerted Horatio, noting to him as they passed the place where his four daughters were drowned. He returned to his cabin and wrote the following hymn,1
It Is Well With my Soul When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, When sorrows like sea billows roll; Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say, It is well, it is well, with my soul. It is well, with my soul, It is well, with my soul, It is well, it is well, with my soul. Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, Let this blest assurance control, That Christ has regarded my helpless estate, And hath shed His own blood for my soul. It is well, with my soul, It is well, with my soul, It is well, it is well, with my soul. My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought! My sin, not in part but the whole, Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more, Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul! It is well, with my soul, It is well, with my soul, It is well, it is well, with my soul. And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight, The clouds be rolled back as a scroll; The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend, Even so, it is well with my soul. It is well, with my soul, It is well, with my soul, It is well, it is well, with my soul.
