The Key to Uncle Tom's Cabin

by Harriet Beecher Stowe

  glad to hear from her (his wife), but I should be more glad to

  hear of her death than for her to come here.”

  In his distress, Tom wrote a letter to Mr. Bigelow, of Wash-

  ington. People who are not in the habit of getting such

  documents have no idea of them. We give a fac simile of Tom's

  letter, with all its poor spelling, all its ignorance, helplessness,

  and misery.

  February 18, 1852.

  Mr. Bigelow.--Dear Sir,--I write to let you know how I am getting

  along. Hard times here. I have not had one hour to go outside the place since

  I have been on it. I put my trust in the Lord to help me. I long to hear from

  you all. I written to hear from you all. Mr. Bigelow, I hope you will not forget

  me. You know it was not my fault that I am here. I hope you will name me to

  Mr. Geden, Mr. Chaplin, Mr. Bailey, to help me out of it. I believe that if

  they would make the least move to it that it could be done. I long to hear

  from my family how they are getting along. You will please to write to me just

  to let me know how they are getting along. You can write to me.

  I remain your humble servant,

  Thomas Ducket.

  You can direct your letters to Thomas Ducket, in care of Mr. Samuel T. Har-

  rison, Louisiana, near Bayou Goula. For God's sake, let me hear from you all

  My wife and children are not out of my mind, day nor night.

  * The words of the Georgia Annual Conference: “Resolved, That slavery, a

  it exists in the United States, is not a moral evil.”

  CHAPTER VIII.

  KIDNAPPING.

  The principle which declares that one human being may

  lawfully hold another as property leads directly to the trade

  in human beings; and that trade has, among its other horrible

  results, the temptation to the crime of kidnapping.

  The trader is generally a man of coarse nature and low

  associations, hard-hearted, and reckless of right or honour.

  He who is not so is an exception, rather than a specimen. If

  he has anything good about him when he begins the business,

  it may well be seen that he is in a fair way to lose it.

  Around the trader are continually passing and repassing men

  and women who would be worth to him thousands of dollars in

  the way of trade--who belong to a class whose rights nobody

  respects, and who, if reduced to slavery, could not easily make

  their word good against him. The probability is that hundreds

  of free men and women and children are all the time being

  precipitated into slavery in this way.

  The recent case of Northrop, tried in Washington, D. C.,

  throws light on this fearful subject. The following account is

  abridged from the New York Times:--

  Solomon Northrop is a free coloured citizen of the United States; he was born

  in Essex County, New York, about the year 1808; became early a resident of

  Washington County, and married there in 1829. His father and mother resided

  in the county of Washington about fifty years, till their decease, and were both

  free. With his wife and children he resided at Saratoga Springs in the winter of

  1841, and while there was employed by two gentlemen to drive a team South, at

  the rate of a dollar a day. In fulfilment of his employment, he proceeded to New

  York, and, having taken out free papers, to show that he was a citizen, he went

  on to Washington city, where he arrived the second day of April, the same year,

  and put up at Gadsby's Hotel. Soon after he arrived he felt unwell, and went

  to bed.

  While suffering with severe pain, some persons came in, and seeing the condi-

  tion he was in, proposed to give him some medicine, and did so. This is the last

  thing of which he had any recollection, until he found himself chained to the

  floor of Williams' slave-pen in this city, and handcuffed. In the course of a few

  hours, James H. Burch, a slave-dealer, came in, and the coloured man asked him

  to take the irons off from him, and wanted to know why they were put on. Burch

  told him it was none of his business. The coloured man said he was free, and

  told where he was born. Burch called in a man by the name of Ebenezer Rodbury,

  and they two stripped the man and laid him across a bench, Rodbury holding him

  down by his wrists. Burch whipped him with a paddle until he broke that, and

  then with a cat-o'-nine-tails, giving him a hundred lashes; and he swore he would

  kill him if he ever stated to any one that he was a free man. From that time

  forward the man says he did not communicate the fact, from fear, either that he

  was a free man, or what his name was, until the last summer. He was kept in

  the slave-pen about ten days, when he, with others, was taken out of the pen in

  the night by Burch, handcuffed and shackled, and taken down the river by a

  steam-boat, and then to Richmond, where he, with forty-eight others, was put on

  board the brig “Orleans.” There Burch left them. The brig sailed for New

  Orleans, and on arriving there, before she was fastened to the wharf, Theophilus

  Freeman, another slave-dealer, belonging to the city of New Orleans, and who in

  1833 had been a partner with Burch in the slave-trade, came to the wharf, and

  received the slaves as they were landed, under his direction. This man was im-

  mediately taken by Freeman, and shut up in his pen in that city. He was taken

  sick with the small-pox immediately after getting there, and was sent to a hospital

  where he lay two or three weeks. When he had sufficiently recovered to leave the

  hospital, Freeman declined to sell him to any person in that vicinity, and sold him

  to a Mr. Ford, who resided in Rapides Parish, Louisiana, where he was taken, and

  lived more than a year, and worked with a carpenter, working with Ford at that

  business.

  Ford became involved, and had to sell him. A Mr. Tibaut became the pur-

  chaser. He, in a short time, sold him to Edwin Eppes, in Bayou Beouf, about

  one hundred and thirty miles from the mouth of Red River, where Eppes has

  retained him on a cotton plantation since the year 1843.

  To go back a step in the narrative, the man wrote a letter, in June, 1841, to

  Henry B. Northrop, of the State of New York, dated and post-marked at New

  Orleans, stating that he had been kidnapped and was on board a vessel, but was

  unable to state what his destination was; but requesting Mr. N. to aid him in

  recovering his freedom, if possible. Mr. N. was unable to do anything in his be-

  half, in consequence of not knowing where he had gone, and not being able

  to find any trace of him. His place of residence remained unknown, until

  the month of September last, when the following letter was received by his

  friends:

  Bayou Beouf, August 1852.

  Gentlemen,--It having been a long time since I have seen or heard from you,

  and not knowing that you are living, it is with uncertainty that I write to you;

  but the necessity of the case must be my excuse. Having been born free just

  across the river from you, I am certain you know me; and I am here now a slave.

  I wish you to obtain free papers for me, and forward them to me at Marksville,

  Louisiana, Parish of Avovelles, and oblige

  Yours,

  Solomon Nor
throp.

  Mr. William Peny, or Mr. Lewis Parker.

  On receiving the above letter, Mr. N. applied to Governor Hunt, of New

  York, for such authority as was necessary for him to proceed to Louisiana as

  an agent to procure the liberation of Solomon. Proof of his freedom was

  furnished to Governor Hunt by affidavits of several gentlemen, General Clarke

  among others. Accordingly, in pursuance of the laws of New York, Henry

  B. Northrop was constituted an agent, to take such steps, by procuring evidence,

  retaining council, &c., as were necessary to secure the freedom of Solomon, and to

  execute all the duties of his agency.

  The result of Mr. Northrop's agency was the establishing of

  the claim of Solomon Northrop to freedom, and the restoring

  him to his native land.

  It is a singular coincidence that this man was carried to a

  plantation in the Red River country, that same region where the

  scene of Tom's captivity was laid; and his account of this plan-

  tation, his mode of life there, and some incidents which he

  describes, form a striking parallel to that history. We extract

  them from the article of the Times.

  The condition of this coloured man during the nine years that he was in the

  hands of Eppes was of a character nearly approaching that described by Mrs.

  Stowe as the condition of “Uncle Tom” while in that region. During that

  whole period his hut contained neither a floor, nor a chair, nor a bed, nor a

  mattress, nor anything for him to lie upon, except a board about twelve inches

  wide, with a block of wood for his pillow, and with a single blanket to cover

  him, while the walls of his hut did not by any means protect him from the

  inclemency of the weather. He was sometimes compelled to perform acts

  revolting to humanity, and outrageous in the highest degree. On one occasion,

  a coloured girl belonging to Eppes, about seventeen years of age, went one

  Sunday, without the permission of her master, to the nearest plantation, about

  half a mile distant, to visit another coloured girl of her acquaintance. She

  returned in the course of two or three hours, and for that offence she was called

  up for punishment, which Solomon was required to inflict. Eppes compelled

  him to drive four stakes into the ground at such distances that the hands and

  ankles of the girl might be tied to them, as she lay with her face upon the

  ground; and, having thus fastened her down, he compelled him, while standing

  by himself, to inflict one hundred lashes upon her bare flesh, she being stripped

  naked. Having inflicted the hundred blows, Solomon refused to proceed any

  further. Eppes tried to compel him to go on, but he absolutely set him at defiance,

  and refused to murder the girl. Eppes then seized the whip, and applied it until

  he was too weary to continue it. Blood flowed from her neck to her feet, and in

  this condition she was compelled the next day to go into the field to work as a

  field-hand. She bears the marks still upon her body, although the punishment

  was inflicted four years ago.

  When Solomon was about to leave, under the care of Mr. Northrop, this girl

  came from behind her hut, unseen by her master, and, throwing her arms around

  the neck of Solomon, congratulated him on his escape from slavery, and his

  return to his family; at the same time, in language of despair, exclaiming, “But,

  O God! what will become of me?”

  These statements regarding the condition of Solomon while with Eppes, and

  the punishment and brutal treatment of the coloured girls, are taken from

  Solomon himself. It has been stated that the nearest plantation was distant from

  that of Eppes a half-mile, and of course there could be no interference on the part

  of neighbours in any punishment, however cruel, or however well disposed to

  interfere they might be.

  Had not Northrop been able to write, as few of the free

  blacks in the slave States are, his doom might have been sealed

  for life in this den of misery.

  Two cases recently tried in Baltimore also unfold facts of a

  similar nature.

  The following is from

  It will be remembered that more than a year since a young coloured woman,

  named Mary Elizabeth Parker, was abducted from Chester County and conveyed

  to Baltimore, where she was sold as a slave, and transported to New Orleans. A

  few days after her sister, Rachel Parker, was also abducted in like manner, taken

  to Baltimore, and detained there in consequence of the interference of her Chester

  County friends. In the first case, Mary Elizabeth was, by an arrangement with the

  individual who had her in charge, brought back to Baltimore, to await her trial

  on a petition for freedom. So also with regard to Rachel. Both, after trial--

  the proof in their favour being so overwhelming--were discharged, and are now

  among their friends in Chester County. In this connexion we give the narratives

  of both females, obtained since their release.

  rachel parker's narrative.

  “I was taken from Joseph C. Miller's about twelve o'clock on Tuesday (Dec.

  30th, 1851), by two men who came up to the house by the back door. One came in

  and asked Mrs. Miller where Jesse McCreary lived, and then seized me by the arm,

  and pulled me out of the house. Mrs. Miller called to her husband, who was in

  the front porch, and he ran out and seized the man by the collar, and tried to

  stop him. The other, with an oath, then told him to take his hands off, and if he

  touched me he would kill him. He then told Miller that I belonged to Mr.

  Schoolfield, in Baltimore. They then hurried me to a waggon, where there was

  another large man, put me in, and drove off.

  “Mr. Miller ran across the field to head the waggon, and picked up a stake

  to run through the wheel, when one of the men pulled out a sword (I think it

  was a sword, I never saw one), and threatened to cut Miller's arm off. Pollock's

  waggon being in the way, and he refusing to get out of the road, we turned off to

  the left. After we rode away, one of the men tore a hole in the back of the car-

  riage, to look out to see if they were coming after us, and they said they wished

  they had given Miller and Pollock a blow.

  “We stopped at a tavern near the railroad, and I told the landlord (I think it

  was) that I was free. I also told several persons at the car-office; and a very nice

  looking man at the car-office was talking at the door, and he said he thought they

  had better take me back again. One of the men did not come further than the

  tavern. I was taken to Baltimore, where we arrived about seven o'clock the same

  evening, and I was taken to jail.

  “The next morning a man with large light-coloured whiskers took me away by

  myself, and asked me if I was no Mr. Schoolfield's slave. I told him I was not;

  he said that I was, and that if I did not say I was he would `cow-hide me and

  salt me, and put me in a dungeon.' I told him I was free, and that I would say

  nothing but the truth.”

  mary e. parker's narrative.

  “I was taken from Matthew Donelly's on Saturday night (Dec. 6th or 13th,

  1851); was caught whilst out of doors, soon after I had cleared the supper-table,

  about sev
en o'clock, by two men, and put into a waggon. One of them got into

  the waggon with me, and rode to Elkton, Md., where I was kept until Sunday

  night at twelve o'clock, when I left there in the cars for Baltimore, and arrived

  there early on Monday morning.

  “At Elkton a man was brought in to see me by one of the men, who said that I

  was not his father's slave. Afterwards, when on the way to Baltimore in the cars,

  a man told me that I must say that I was Mr. Schoolfield's slave, or he would shoot

  me, and pulled a `rifle' out of his pocket and showed it to me, and also threatened

  to whip me.

  “On Monday morning Mr. Schoolfield called at the jail in Baltimore, to see me,

  and on Tuesday morning he brought his wife and several other ladies to see me.

  I told them I did not know them, and then Mr. C. took me out of the room, and

  told me who they were, and took me back again, so that I might appear to know

  them. On the next Monday I was shipped to New Orleans.

  “It took about a month to get to New Orleans. After I had been there about a

  week, Mr. C. sold me to Madame C., who keeps a large flower-garden. She sends

  flowers to sell to the theatres, sells milk in market, &c. I went out to sell candy

  and flowers for her when I lived with her. One evening, when I was coming

  home from the theatre, a watchman took me up, and I told him I was not a slave.

  He put me in the calaboose, and next morning took me before a magistrate, who

  sent for Madame C., who told him she bought me. He then sent for Mr. C., and

  told him he must account for how he got me. Mr. C. said that my mother and all

  the family were free, except me. The magistrate told me to go back to Madame

  C., and he told Madame C. that she must not let me go out at night, and he told

  Mr. C. that he must prove how he came by me. The magistrate afterwards called

  on Mrs. C. at her house, and had a long talk with her in the parlour. I do not

  know what he said, as they were by themselves. About a month afterwards I was

  sent back to Baltimore. I lived with Madame C. about six months.

  “There were six slaves came in the vessel with me to Baltimore, who belonged

  to Mr. D., and were returned because they were sickly.

  “A man called to see me at the jail after I came back to Baltimore, and told me