The Key to Uncle Tom's Cabin
Page 7
book was completed, a copy of it was sent, through the mail, to
every editor from whose paper such advertisements had been
taken, and to every individual of whom any facts had been nar-
rated, with the passage concerning them marked.
It is quite possible that this may have had some influence in
rendering such advertisements less common. Men of sense often
go on doing a thing which is very absurd, or even inhuman,
simply because it has always been done before them, and they
follow general custom, without much reflection. When their
attention, however, is called to it by a stranger who sees the
thing from another point of view, they become immediately
sensible of the impropriety of the practice, and discontinue it.
The reader will, however, be pained to notice, when he comes to
the legal part of the book, that, even in some of the largest cities
of our slave States, this barbarity had not been entirely discon-
tinued in the year 1850.
The list of advertisements in Mr. Weld's book is here inserted,
not to weary the reader with its painful details, but that, by
running his eye over the dates of the papers quoted, and the
places of their publication, he may form a fair estimate of the
extent to which this atrocity was publicly practised.
The Wilmington (North Carolina) Advertiser, of July 13,
1838, contains the following advertisement:
“100 dollars will be paid to any person who may apprehend, and safely confine
in any jail in this State, a certain negro man, named Alfred. And the same
reward will be paid if satisfactory evidence is given of his having been killed.
He has one or more scars on one of his hands, caused by his having been shot.
“The Citizens of Onslow.
“Richlands, Onslow Co. May 16, 1838.”
In the same column with the above, and directly under it, is
the following.
“Ran away, my negro man Richard. A reward of 25 dollars will be paid
for his apprehension, DEAD or ALIVE. Satisfactory proof will only be required
of his being KILLED. He has with him, in all probability, his wife Eliza, who
ran away from Col. Thompson, now a resident of Alabama, about the time he
commenced his journey to that State.
“Durant H. Rhodes.”
In the Macon (Georgia) Telegraph, May 28, is the following.
“About the first of March last the negro man Ranson left me without the
least provocation whatever; I will give a reward of twenty dollars for said negro
if taken, dead or alive; and if killed in any attempt, an advance of five dollars
will be paid.
“Bryant Johnson.
“Crawford Co., Georgia.”
See the Newbern (North Carolina) Spectator, Jan. 5, 1838, for
the following.
“RAN AWAY from the subscriber, a negro man, named SAMPSON. Fifty
dollars reward will be given for the delivery of him to me, or his confinement in
any jail, so that I get him; and should he resist in being taken, so that violence is
necessary to arrest him, I will not hold any person liable to damages should the
slave be killed.
“Enoch Foy,
“Jones Co., N. C.”
From the Charleston (South Carolina) Courier, Feb. 20, 1836.
“300 DOLLARS REWARD. Ran away from the subscriber, in November
last, his two negro men, named Billy and Pompey.
“Billy is 25 years old, and is known as the patroon of my boat for many years.
In all probability he may resist; in that event, 50 dollars will be paid for his
HEAD.”
CHAPTER V.
ELIZA.
The writer stated in her book that Eliza was a portrait
drawn from life. The incident which brought the original to
her notice may be simply narrated.
While the writer was travelling in Kentucky, many years ago,
she attended church in a small country town. While there, her
attention was called to a beautiful quadroon girl, who sat in one
of the slips of the church, and appeared to have charge of some
young children. The description of Eliza may suffice for a
description of her. When the author returned from the church,
she inquired about the girl, and was told that she was as
good and amiable as she was beautiful; that she was a pious
girl, and a member of the Church; and, finally, that she was
owned by Mr. So-and-so. The idea that this girl was a slave
struck a chill to her heart, and she said earnestly, “Oh, I hope
they treat her kindly.”
“Oh, certainly,” was the reply; “they think as much of her
as of their own children.”
“I hope they will never sell her,” said a person in the com-
pany.
“Certainly they will not; a Southern gentleman, not long
ago, offered her master a thousand dollars for her; but he told
him that she was too good to be his wife, and he certainly should
not have her for a mistress.”
That is all the writer knows of that girl.
With regard to the incident of Eliza's crossing the river on
the ice--as the possibility of the thing has been disputed--the
writer gives the following circumstance in confirmation.
Last spring, while the author was in New York, a Presby-
terian clergyman of Ohio came to her, and said, “I understand
they dispute that fact about the woman's crossing the river.
Now, I know all about that, for I got the story from the very
man that helped her up the bank. I know it is true, for she is
now living in Canada.”
It has been objected that the representation of the scene in
which the plan for kidnapping Eliza is concocted by Haley, Marks,
and Loker, at the tavern, is a gross caricature on the state of
things in Ohio.
What knowledge the author has had of the facilities which
some justices of the peace, under the old fugitive law of Ohio,
were in the habit of giving to kidnapping, may be inferred by
comparing the statement in her book with some in her personal
knowledge.
“Ye see,” said Marks to Haley, stirring his punch as he did so, “ye see, we
has justices convenient at all p'ints along shore, that does up any little jobs in our
line quite reasonable. Tom, he does the knockin' down, and that ar; and I come
in all dressed up--shining boots--everything first chop--when the swearin's to
be done. You oughter see me, now!” said Marks, in a glow of professional pride,
“how I can tone it off. One day I'm Mr. Twickem, from New Orleans; 'nother
day, I'm just come from my plantation on Pearl river, where I works seven hun-
dred niggers; then, again, I come out a distant relation to Henry Clay, or some
old cock in Kentuck. Talents is different, you know. Now, Tom's a roarer when
there's any thumping or fighting to be done; but at lying he an't good, Tom an't;
ye see it don't come natural to him; but, Lord! if thar's a feller in the country
that can swear to anything and everything, and put in all the circumstances and
flourishes with a longer face, and carry't through better'n I can, why, I'd like to
see him, that's all! I b'lieve, my heart, I could get along, and snake through, even
if justices
were more particular than they is. Sometimes I rather wish they was
more particular; 'twould be a heap more relishin' if they was--more fun, yer know.”
In the year 1839, the writer received into her family, as a
servant, a girl from Kentucky. She had been the slave of one
of the lowest and most brutal families, with whom she had been
brought up, in a log-cabin, in a state of half-barbarism. In
proceeding to give her religious instruction, the author heard,
for the first time in her life, an inquiry which she had not sup-
posed possible to be made in America--“Who is Jesus Christ,
now, anyhow?”
When the author told her the history of the love and life and
death of Christ, the girl seemed wholly overcome; tears streamed
down her cheeks, and she exclaimed piteously, “Why didn't
nobody never tell me this before?”
“But,” said the writer to her, “haven't you ever seen the
Bible?”
“Yes, I have seen Missus a-readin' on't sometimes; but, law
sakes! she's just a readin' on't 'cause she could; don't s'pose
it did her no good, no way.”
She said she had been to one or two camp-meetings in her
life, but “didn't notice very particular.”
At all events, the story certainly made great impression on
her, and had such an effect in improving her conduct, that the
writer had great hopes of her.
On inquiring into her history, it was discoverd that, by the
laws of Ohio, she was legally entitled to her freedom, from the
fact of her having been brought into the State, and left there,
temporarily, by the consent of her mistress. These facts being
properly authenticated before the proper authorities, papers at-
testing her freedom were drawn up, and it was now supposed
that all danger of pursuit was over. After she had remained in
the family for some months, word was sent, from various sources,
to Professor Stowe, that the girl's young master was over, looking
for her, and that, if care were not taken, she would be conveyed
back into slavery.
Professor Stowe called on the magistrate who had authenti-
cated her papers, and inquired whether they were not sufficient
to protect her. The reply was, Certainly they are, in law, if she
could have a fair hearing; but they will come to your house in
the night, with an officer and a warrant; they will take her be-
fore Justice D--, and swear to her. He's the man that does
all this kind of business, and he'll deliver her up, and there'll
be an end of it.
Mr. Stowe then inquired what could be done; and was
recommended to carry her to some place of security till the
inquiry for her was over. Accordingly, that night, a brother of
the author, with Professor Stowe, performed for the fugitive that
office which the senator is represented as performing for Eliza.
They drove about ten miles on a solitary road, crossed the creek
at a very dangerous fording, and presented themselves, at mid-
night, at the house of John Van Zandt, a noble-minded Ken-
tuckian, who had performed the good deed which the author, in
her story, ascribes to Van Tromp.
After some rapping at the door, the worthy owner of the
mansion appeared, candle in hand, as has been narrated.
“Are you the man that would save a poor coloured girl from
kidnappers?” was the first question.
“Guess I am,” was the prompt response; “where is she?”
“Why, she's here.”
“But how did you come?”
“I crossed the creek.”
“Why, the Lord helped you!” said he; “I shouldn't dare
cross it myself in the night. A man and his wife, and five
children were drowned there, a little while ago.”
The reader may be interested to know that the poor girl was
never re-taken: that she married well in Cincinnati, is a very re-
spectable woman, and the mother of a large family of children.
CHAPTER VI.
UNCLE TOM.
The character of Uncle Tom has been objected to as impro-
bable; and yet the writer has received more confirmations of that
character, and from a great variety of sources, than of any other
in the book.
Many people have said to her, “I knew an Uncle Tom in
such-and-such a Southern State.” All the histories of this kind
which have thus been related to her would of themselves, if
collected, make a small volume. The author will relate a few
of them.
While visiting in an obscure town in Maine, in the family of
a friend, the conversation happened to turn upon this subject,
and the gentleman with whose family she was staying related
the following. He said, that when on a visit to his brother in
New Orleans, some years before, he found in his possession a
most valuable negro man, of such remarkable probity and honesty
that his brother literally trusted him with all he had. He had
frequently seen him take out a handful of bills, without looking
at them, and hand them to this servant, bidding him go and pro-
vide what was necessary for the family, and bring him the change.
He remonstrated with his brother on this imprudence; but the
latter replied that he had had such proofs of this servant's im-
pregnable conscientiousness that he felt it safe to trust him to
any extent.
The history of the servant was this. He had belonged to a
man in Baltimore, who, having a general prejudice against all
the religious exercises of slaves, did all that he could to prevent
his having any time for devotional duties, and strictly forbade
him to read the Bible and pray, either by himself or with the
other servants; and because, like a certain man of old, named
Daniel, he constantly disobeyed this unchristian edict, his master
inflicted upon him that punishment which a master always has
in his power to inflict--he sold him into perpetual exile from his
wife and children, down to New Orleans.
The gentleman who gave the writer this information says that,
although not a religious man at the time, he was so struck with
the man's piety, that he said to his brother, “I hope you will
never do anything to deprive this man of his religious privileges,
for I think a judgment will come upon you if you do.” To this
his brother replied that he should be very foolish to do it, since
he had made up his mind that the man's religion was the root
of his extraordinary excellences.
Some time since there was sent to the writer from the South,
through the mail, a little book, entitled “Sketches of Old Vir-
ginia Family Servants,” with a preface by Bishop Meade. The
book contains an account of the following servants: African
Bella, Old Milly, Blind Lucy, Aunt Betty, Springsfield Bob,
Mammy Chris, Diana Washington, Aunt Margaret, Rachel
Parker, Nelly Jackson, My Own Mammy, Aunt Beck.
The following extract from Bishop Meade's preface may not
be uninteresting:--
The following sketches were placed in my hands with a request that I would
examine them
with a view to publication.
After reading them, I could not but think that they would be both pleasing
and edifying.
Very many such examples of fidelity and piety might be added from the old
Virginia families. These will suffice as specimens, and will serve to show how
interesting the relation between master and servant often is.
Many will doubtless be surprised to find that there was so much intelligence
as well as piety in some of the old servants of Virginia, and that they had
learned to read the Sacred Scriptures, so as to be useful in this way among their
fellow-servants. It is, and always has been true, in regard to the servants of
the Southern States, that although public schools may have been prohibited, yet
no interference has been attempted, where the owners have chosen to teach their
servants, or permit them to learn in a private way how to read God's word.
Accordingly, there always have been some who were thus taught. In the more
Southern States the number of these has most abounded. Of this fact I became
well assured about thirty years since, when visiting the Atlantic States, with a
view to the formation of auxiliary colonization societies, and the selection of the
first colonists for Africa. In the city of Charleston, South Carolina, I found more
intelligence and character among the free coloured population than anywhere else.
The same was true of some of those in bondage. A respectable number might
be seen in certain parts of the Episcopal churches which I attended, using their
prayer-books, and joining in the responses of the church.
Many purposes of convenience and hospitality were subserved by this encourage-
ment of cultivation in some of the servants, on the part of the owners.
When travelling many years since with a sick wife, and two female relatives,
from Charleston to Virginia, at a period of the year when many of the families
from the country resort to the town for health, we were kindly urged to call at
the seat of one of the first families in South Carolina; and a letter from the
mistress, then in the city, was given us, to her servant, who had charge of the
house in the absence of the family. On reaching there, and delivering the letter
to a most respectable-looking female servant, who immediately read it, we were