Key to Uncle Tom's Cabin

by Harriet Beecher Stowe

  to New Orleans. He was entirely unacquainted with its character; he was at-

  tracted by its title, supposing it might amuse him while travelling. Through his

  family it was shown to me, as something that I would probably like. I looked at

  the author's name, and said, `Oh, yes; anything from that lady I will read;' other-

  wise I should have disregarded a work of fiction without such a title.

  “The remarks from persons present were, that it was a most amusing work, and

  the scenes most admirably drawn to life. I accepted the offer of a perusal of it,

  and brought it home with me. Although I have not read every sentence, I have

  looked over the whole of it, and I now wish to bear my testimony to its just deli-

  neation of the position that the slave occupies. Colourings in the work there are,

  but no colourings of the actual and real position of the slave worse than really

  exist. Whippings to death do occur; I know it to be so. Painful separations of

  master and slave, under circumstances creditable to the master's feelings of

  humanity, do also occur. I know that, too; many families, after having brought

  up their children in entire dependence on slaves to do everything for them, and

  after having been indulged in elegances and luxuries, have exhausted all their

  means; and the black people only being left, whom they must sell for further sup-

  port. Running away, everybody knows, is the worst crime a slave can commit, in

  the eyes of his master, except it be a humane master; and from such few slaves

  care to run away.

  “I am a slaveholder myself. I have long been dissatisfied with the system

  particularly since I have made the Bible my criterion for judging of it. I am con-

  vinced, from what I read there, slavery is not in accordance with what God delights

  to honour in his creatures. I am altogether opposed to the system; and I intend

  always to use whatever influence I may have against it. I feel very bold in speak-

  ing against it, though living in the midst of it, because I am backed by a powerful

  man, that can overturn and overrule the strongest efforts that the determined

  friends of slavery are now making for its continuance.

  “I sincerely hope that more of Mrs. Stowes may be found, to show up the

  reality of slavery. It needs master minds to show it as it is, that it may rest upon

  its own merits.

  “Like Mrs. Stowe, I feel that, since so many and good people, too, at the North

  have quietly consented to leave the slave to his fate, by acquiescing in and

  approving the late measures of government, those who do feel differently should

  bestir themselves. Christian effort must do the work; and soon it would be done

  if Christians would unite, not to destroy the Union States, but honestly to speak

  out, and speak freely, against that they know is wrong. They are not aware what

  countenance they give to slaveholders to hold on to their prey. Troubled con-

  sciences can be easily quieted by the sympathies of pious people, particularly when

  interest and inclination come in as aids.

  “I am told there is to be a reply made to `Uncle Tom's Cabin,' entitled `Uncle

  Tom's Cabin as It is.' I am glad of it. Investigation is what is wanted.

  “You will wonder why this communication is made to you by an unknown.

  It is simply made to encourage your heart, and strengthen your determination to

  persevere, and do all you can to put the emancipation of the slave in progress.

  Who I am you will never know; nor do I wish you to know, nor anyone else.

  I am a

  “Republican.”

  The following facts make the fiction of “Uncle Tom's Cabin”

  appear tame in the comparison. They are from the New York

  Evangelist.

  Mr. Editor,--I see in your paper that some persons deny the statements of

  Mrs. Stowe. I have read her book, every word of it. I was born in East Tennes-

  see, near Knoxville, and, we thought, in an enlightened part of the Union, much

  favoured in our social, political, and religious privileges, &c. &c. Well, I think

  about the year 1829, or, perhaps '28, a good old German Methodist owned a black

  man named Robin, a Methodist preacher, and the manager of farm, distillery, &c.,

  salesman and financier. This good old German Methodist had a son named

  Willey, a schoolmate of mine, and, as times were, a first-rate fellow. The old

  man also owned a keen, bright-eyed mulatto girl; and Willey--the naughty boy--

  became enamoured of the poor girl. The result was soon discovered; and our

  good German Methodist told his brother Robin to flog the girl for her wickendness.

  Brother Robin said he could not and would not perform such an act of cruelty as

  to flog the girl for what she could not help; and for that act of disobedience old

  Robin was flogged by the good old German brother until he could not stand. He

  was carried to bed; and some three weeks thereafter, when my father left the

  State, he was still confined to his bed from the effects of that flogging.

  Again: in the fall of 1836, I went South for my health, stopped at a

  village in Mississippi, and obtained employment in the largest house in the

  county, as a book-keeper, with a firm from Louisville, Kentucky. A man

  residing near the village--a bachelor, thirty years of age--became embarrassed,

  and executed a mortgage to my employer on a fine, likely boy, weighing about

  two hundred pounds--quick-witted, active, obedient, and remarkably faithful,

  trusty, and honest; so much so, that he was held up as an example. He had

  a wife that he loved; his owner cast his eyes upon her, and she became his

  paramour. His boy remonstrated with his master; told him that he tried

  faithfully to perform his every duty, that he was a good and faithful

  “nigger” to him; and it was hard, after he had toiled hard all day, and till

  ten o'clock at night, for him to have his domestic relations broken up and inter-

  fered with. The white man denied the charge, and the wife also denied it. One

  night, about the first of September, the boy came home earlier than usual, say

  about nine o'clock. It was a wet, dismal night; he made a fire in his cabin, went

  to get his supper, and found ocular demonstration of the guilt of his master. He

  became enraged, as I suppose any man would, seized a butcher-knife, and cut his

  master's throat, stabbed his wife in twenty-seven places, came to the village, and

  knocked at the office door. I told him to come in. He did so, and asked for my

  employer. I called him. The boy then told him that he had killed his master

  and his wife, and what for. My employer locked him up, and he, a doctor and

  myself, went out to the house of the old bachelor, and found him dead, and the

  boy's wife nearly so; she, however, lived. We (my employer and myself) returned

  to the village, watched the boy until about sunrise, left him locked up, and went

  to get our breakfasts, intending to take the boy to jail (as it was my employer'

  interest, if possible, to save the boy, having one thousand dollars at stake in him)

  but whilst we were eating, some persons who had heard of the murder broke

  open the door, took the poor fellow, put a log-chain round his neck, and started

  him for the woods at the point of the bayonet, marching by where we were eat-

  ing, with a
great deal of noise. My employer hearing it, ran out, and rescued the

  boy. The mob again broke in and took the boy, and marched him, as before

  stated, out of town.

  My employer then begged them not to disgrace their town in such a manner,

  but to appoint a jury of twelve sober men to decide what should be done. And

  twelve as sober men as could be found (I was not sober) said he must be hanged.

  They then tied a rope round his neck, and set him on an old horse. He made a

  speech to the mob, which I at the time thought, if it had come from some senator,

  would have been received with rounds of applause; and, withal, he was more calm

  than I am now in writing this. And after he had told all about the deed and its

  causes, he then kicked the horse out from under him, and was launched into eter-

  nity. My employer has often remarked that he never saw anything more noble

  in his whole life than the conduct of that boy.

  Now, Mr. Editor, I have given you facts, and can give you names and dates.

  You can do what you think is best for the cause of humanity. I hope I have seen

  the evil of my former practices, and will endeavour to reform.

  Very respectfully,

  James L. Hill.

  Springfield, Illinois, Sept. 17th, 1852.

  “The opinion of a Southerner,” given below, appeared in the

  National Era, published at Washington. This is an anti-slavery

  journal, but by its generous tone and eminent ability it com-

  mands the respect and patronage of many readers in the slave

  States:

  The following communication comes inclosed in an envelope from Louisiana.--

  Ed. Era.

  I have just been reading, in the New York Observer of the 12th of August,

  an article from the Southern Free Press, headed by an editorial one from the

  Observer, that has for its caption, “Progress in the Right Quarter.”

  The editor of the New York Observer says that the Southern Free Press has

  been an able and earnest defender of Southern institutions, but that he now advo-

  cates the passage of a law to prohibit the separation of families, and recommends

  instruction to a portion of slaves that are most honest and faithful. The Observer further adds: “It was such language as this that was becoming common before

  Northern fanaticism ruined the prospects of emancipation.” It is not so!

  Northern fanaticism, as he calls it, has done everything that has been done for

  bettering the condition of the slave. Every one who knows anything of slavery

  for the last thirtv vears will recollect that about that time since, the condition of

  the slave in Loaisiana--for about Louisiana only do I speak, because about

  Louisiana only do I know--was as depressed and miserable as any of the accounts

  of the abolitionists that ever I have seen have made it. I say abolitionists; I

  mean friends and advocates of freedom in a fair and honourable way. If any

  doubt my assertion, let them seek for information; let them get the black laws of

  Louisiana, and read them; let them get facts from individuals of veracity, on whose

  statements they would rely.

  This wretched condition of slaves roused the friends of humanity, who, like men

  and Christian men, came fearlessly forward and told truths, indignantly expressing

  their abhorrence of their oppressors. Such measures of course brought forth

  strife, which caused the cries of humanity to sound louder and louder throughout

  the land. The friends of freedom gained the ascendancy in the hearts of the

  people, and the slaveholders were brought to a stand. Some, through fear of con-

  sequences, lessened their cruelties, while others were made to think that, perhaps,

  were not unwilling to do so when it was urged upon them. Cruelties were not only

  refrained from, but the slave's comforts were increased. A retrograde treatment now

  was not practicable; fears of rebellion kept them to it. The slaves had found

  friends, and they were watchful. It was, however, soon discovered, that too

  many privileges, too much leniency, and giving knowledge, would destroy the

  power to keep down the slave, and tend to weaken, if not destroy the system. Ac-

  cordingly, stringent laws had to be passed, and a penalty attached to them. No one

  must teach, or cause to be taught, a slave, without incurring the penalty. The

  aw is now in force. These necessary laws, as they are called, are all put down

  to the account of the friends of freedom; to their interference. I do suppose that

  they do justly belong to their interference; for who that studies the history of

  the world's transactions does not know that in all contests with power the weak,

  until successful, will be dealt with more rigorously? Lose not sight, however,

  their former condition. Law after law has since been passed to draw the cord

  tighter around the poor slave, and all attributed to the abolitionists. Well, any-

  how, progress is being made. Here comes out the Southern Press, and make

  some honourable concessions. He says: “The assaults upon slavery, made for

  the last twenty years by the North, have increased the evils of it. The treatment

  of slaves has undoubtedly become a delicate and difficult question. The South

  has a great and moral conflict to wage; and it is for her to put on the most in-

  vulnerable moral panoply.” He then thinks the availability of slave property

  would not be injured by passing a law to prohibit the separation of slave families;

  for he says, “Although cases sometimes occur which we observe are seized by

  these Northern fanatics as characteristic of the system,” &c. Nonsense! there

  are no “cases sometimes” occurring; no such thing! They are every day's

  occurrences, though there are families that form the exception, and many, I would

  hope, that would not do it. While I am writing, I can call before me three men

  that were brought here by negro traders from Virginia, each having left six or

  seven children, with their wives, from whom they have never heard. One other

  died here a short time since, who left the same number in Carolina, from whom

  he had never heard.

  I spent the summer of 1845 in Nashville. During the month of September

  six hundred slaves passed through that place, in four different gangs, for New

  Orleans; final destination, probably, Texas. A goodly proportion were women;

  young women, of course; many mothers must have left not only their children,

  but their babies. One gang only had a few children. I made some excursions to

  the different watering-places around Nashville; and while at Robinson or Tyree

  Springs, twenty miles from Nashville, on the borders of Kentucky and Tennessee,

  my hostess said to me one day, “Yonder comes a gang of slaves chained.” I

  went to the road-side, and viewed them. For the better answering my purpose of

  observation, I stopped the white man in front, who was at his ease in a one-horse

  waggon, and asked him if those slaves were for sale. I counted them and observed

  their position. They were divided by three one-horse waggons, each containing a

  man-merchant, so arranged as to command the whole gang. Some were unchained;

  sixty were chained in two companies, thirty in each, the right hand of one to the

  left hand of the other opposite one, making fifteen each side of a large ox-chain,

  to which
every hand was fastened, and necessarily compelled to hold up--men and

  women promiscuously, and about in equal proportions--all young people. No

  children here, except a few in a waggon behind, which were the only children in

  the four gangs. I said to a respectable mulatto woman in the house, “Is it true

  that the negro traders take mothers from their babies?” “Missis, it is true;

  for here, last week, such a girl (naming her), who lives about a mile off, was

  taken after dinner--knew nothing of it in the morning--sold, put into the gang,

  and her baby was given away to a neighbour. She was a stout young woman

  and brought a good price.”

  The annexation of Texas induced the spirited traffic that summer. Coming

  down home in a small boat, water low, a negro trader on board had forty-five men

  and women crammed into a little spot, some handcuffed. One respectable-looking

  man had left a wife and seven children in Nashville. Near Memphis the boat

  stopped at a plantation by previous arrangement, to take in thirty more. An

  hour's delay was the stipulated time with the captain of the boat. Thirty young

  men and women came down the bank of the Mississippi, looking Wretcheduess

  personified, just from the field; in appearance dirty, disconsolate and oppressed

  some with an old shawl under their arm; a few had blankets; some had nothing

  at all--looked as though they cared for nothing. I calculated, while looking at

  them coming down the bank, that I could hold in a bundle all that the whole of

  them had. The short notice that was given them, when about to leave, was in

  consequence of the fears entertained that they would slip one side. They all

  looked distressed, leaving all that was dear to them behind, to be put under the

  hammer, for the property of the highest bidder. No children here! The whole

  seventy-five were crammed into a little space on the boat, men and women all

  together.

  I am happy to see that morality is rearing its head with advocates for slavery,

  and that a “most invulnerable moral panoply” is thought to be necessary. I hope

  it may not prove to be like Mr. Clay's compromises. The Southern Press says:

  As, for caricatures of slavery in `Uncle Tom's Cabin' and the `White Slave,' all

  founded in imaginary circumstances, &c., we consider them highly incendiary.