{"id":257,"date":"2025-09-26T20:38:16","date_gmt":"2025-09-26T20:38:16","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/hartfordlit.org\/?p=257"},"modified":"2026-01-28T15:37:08","modified_gmt":"2026-01-28T15:37:08","slug":"uncle-toms-cabin-chapters-5-7-9-12-15-16","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/hartfordlit.org\/?p=257","title":{"rendered":"Uncle Tom’s Cabin – Chapters 5, 7, 9, 12"},"content":{"rendered":"

Prior to Chapter 5, we are introduced to Mr. and Mrs. Shelby, farmers in Kentucky who own a fairly large estate and are presented as slaveholders who are kind to their enslaved workers. Eliza is the enslaved handmaid to Mrs. Shelby; she is light-skinned and is the mother of a young boy named Harry (her husband George Harris is enslaved on a neighboring farm). Chapter 4 introduces life in Uncle Tom’s cabin, where Tom, his wife Aunt Chloe, and their children live in the warmth of family and Christian devotion. We have also been introduced to Haley, a slave trader who has secured ownership of Shelby’s debt and is squeezing him to settle the account by selling some of his human property. The events in Chapter 5 illustrate how precarious the lives of “human property” can be even for those who live under “kind” masters.<\/em><\/p>\n

from Uncle Tom’s Cabin<\/em><\/h5>\n

by Harriet Beecher Stowe<\/p>\n

CHAPTER V<\/h6>\n

Showing the Feelings of Living Property on Changing Owners<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Mr. and Mrs. Shelby had retired to their apartment for the night. He was lounging in a large easy-chair, looking over some letters that had come in the afternoon mail, and she was standing before her mirror, brushing out the complicated braids and curls in which Eliza had arranged her hair; for, noticing her pale cheeks and haggard eyes, she had excused her attendance that night, and ordered her to bed. The employment, naturally enough, suggested her conversation with the girl in the morning; and turning to her husband, she said, carelessly,<\/p>\n

\u201cBy the by, Arthur, who was that low-bred fellow that you lugged in to our dinner-table today?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHaley is his name,\u201d said Shelby, turning himself rather uneasily in his chair, and continuing with his eyes fixed on a letter.<\/p>\n

\u201cHaley! Who is he, and what may be his business here, pray?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, he\u2019s a man that I transacted some business with, last time I was at Natchez,\u201d said Mr. Shelby.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd he presumed on it to make himself quite at home, and call and dine here, ay?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, I invited him; I had some accounts with him,\u201d said Shelby.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs he a negro-trader?\u201d said Mrs. Shelby, noticing a certain embarrassment in her husband\u2019s manner.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, my dear, what put that into your head?\u201d said Shelby, looking up.<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing,\u2014only Eliza came in here, after dinner, in a great worry, crying and taking on, and said you were talking with a trader, and that she heard him make an offer for her boy\u2014the ridiculous little goose!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe did, hey?\u201d said Mr. Shelby, returning to his paper, which he seemed for a few moments quite intent upon, not perceiving that he was holding it bottom upwards.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt will have to come out,\u201d said he, mentally; \u201cas well now as ever.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI told Eliza,\u201d said Mrs. Shelby, as she continued brushing her hair, \u201cthat she was a little fool for her pains, and that you never had anything to do with that sort of persons. Of course, I knew you never meant to sell any of our people,\u2014least of all, to such a fellow.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, Emily,\u201d said her husband, \u201cso I have always felt and said; but the fact is that my business lies so that I cannot get on without. I shall have to sell some of my hands.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTo that creature? Impossible! Mr. Shelby, you cannot be serious.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry to say that I am,\u201d said Mr. Shelby. \u201cI\u2019ve agreed to sell Tom.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat! our Tom?\u2014that good, faithful creature!\u2014been your faithful servant from a boy! O, Mr. Shelby!\u2014and you have promised him his freedom, too,\u2014you and I have spoken to him a hundred times of it. Well, I can believe anything now,\u2014I can believe\u00a0now\u00a0that you could sell little Harry, poor Eliza\u2019s only child!\u201d said Mrs. Shelby, in a tone between grief and indignation.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, since you must know all, it is so. I have agreed to sell Tom and Harry both; and I don\u2019t know why I am to be rated, as if I were a monster, for doing what every one does every day.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut why, of all others, choose these?\u201d said Mrs. Shelby. \u201cWhy sell them, of all on the place, if you must sell at all?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause they will bring the highest sum of any,\u2014that\u2019s why. I could choose another, if you say so. The fellow made me a high bid on Eliza, if that would suit you any better,\u201d said Mr. Shelby.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe wretch!\u201d said Mrs. Shelby, vehemently.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I didn\u2019t listen to it, a moment,\u2014out of regard to your feelings, I wouldn\u2019t;\u2014so give me some credit.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy dear,\u201d said Mrs. Shelby, recollecting herself, \u201cforgive me. I have been hasty. I was surprised, and entirely unprepared for this;\u2014but surely you will allow me to intercede for these poor creatures. Tom is a noble-hearted, faithful fellow, if he is black. I do believe, Mr. Shelby, that if he were put to it, he would lay down his life for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know it,\u2014I dare say;\u2014but what\u2019s the use of all this?\u2014I can\u2019t help myself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy not make a pecuniary sacrifice? I\u2019m willing to bear my part of the inconvenience. O, Mr. Shelby, I have tried\u2014tried most faithfully, as a Christian woman should\u2014to do my duty to these poor, simple, dependent creatures. I have cared for them, instructed them, watched over them, and known all their little cares and joys, for years; and how can I ever hold up my head again among them, if, for the sake of a little paltry gain, we sell such a faithful, excellent, confiding creature as poor Tom, and tear from him in a moment all we have taught him to love and value? I have taught them the duties of the family, of parent and child, and husband and wife; and how can I bear to have this open acknowledgment that we care for no tie, no duty, no relation, however sacred, compared with money? I have talked with Eliza about her boy\u2014her duty to him as a Christian mother, to watch over him, pray for him, and bring him up in a Christian way; and now what can I say, if you tear him away, and sell him, soul and body, to a profane, unprincipled man, just to save a little money? I have told her that one soul is worth more than all the money in the world; and how will she believe me when she sees us turn round and sell her child?\u2014sell him, perhaps, to certain ruin of body and soul!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry you feel so about it, Emily,\u2014indeed I am,\u201d said Mr. Shelby; \u201cand I respect your feelings, too, though I don\u2019t pretend to share them to their full extent; but I tell you now, solemnly, it\u2019s of no use\u2014I can\u2019t help myself. I didn\u2019t mean to tell you this Emily; but, in plain words, there is no choice between selling these two and selling everything. Either they must go, or\u00a0all\u00a0must. Haley has come into possession of a mortgage, which, if I don\u2019t clear off with him directly, will take everything before it. I\u2019ve raked, and scraped, and borrowed, and all but begged,\u2014and the price of these two was needed to make up the balance, and I had to give them up. Haley fancied the child; he agreed to settle the matter that way, and no other. I was in his power, and\u00a0had\u00a0to do it. If you feel so to have them sold, would it be any better to have\u00a0all\u00a0sold?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Shelby stood like one stricken. Finally, turning to her toilet, she rested her face in her hands, and gave a sort of groan.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is God\u2019s curse on slavery!\u2014a bitter, bitter, most accursed thing!\u2014a curse to the master and a curse to the slave! I was a fool to think I could make anything good out of such a deadly evil. It is a sin to hold a slave under laws like ours,\u2014I always felt it was,\u2014I always thought so when I was a girl,\u2014I thought so still more after I joined the church; but I thought I could gild it over,\u2014I thought, by kindness, and care, and instruction, I could make the condition of mine better than freedom\u2014fool that I was!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, wife, you are getting to be an abolitionist, quite.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAbolitionist! if they knew all I know about slavery, they\u00a0might\u00a0talk! We don\u2019t need them to tell us; you know I never thought that slavery was right\u2014never felt willing to own slaves.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, therein you differ from many wise and pious men,\u201d said Mr. Shelby. \u201cYou remember Mr. B.\u2019s sermon, the other Sunday?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want to hear such sermons; I never wish to hear Mr. B. in our church again. Ministers can\u2019t help the evil, perhaps,\u2014can\u2019t cure it, any more than we can,\u2014but defend it!\u2014it always went against my common sense. And I think you didn\u2019t think much of that sermon, either.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell,\u201d said Shelby, \u201cI must say these ministers sometimes carry matters further than we poor sinners would exactly dare to do. We men of the world must wink pretty hard at various things, and get used to a deal that isn\u2019t the exact thing. But we don\u2019t quite fancy, when women and ministers come out broad and square, and go beyond us in matters of either modesty or morals, that\u2019s a fact. But now, my dear, I trust you see the necessity of the thing, and you see that I have done the very best that circumstances would allow.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cO yes, yes!\u201d said Mrs. Shelby, hurriedly and abstractedly fingering her gold watch,\u2014\u201cI haven\u2019t any jewelry of any amount,\u201d she added, thoughtfully; \u201cbut would not this watch do something?\u2014it was an expensive one, when it was bought. If I could only at least save Eliza\u2019s child, I would sacrifice anything I have.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, very sorry, Emily,\u201d said Mr. Shelby, \u201cI\u2019m sorry this takes hold of you so; but it will do no good. The fact is, Emily, the thing\u2019s done; the bills of sale are already signed, and in Haley\u2019s hands; and you must be thankful it is no worse. That man has had it in his power to ruin us all,\u2014and now he is fairly off. If you knew the man as I do, you\u2019d think that we had had a narrow escape.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs he so hard, then?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, not a cruel man, exactly, but a man of leather,\u2014a man alive to nothing but trade and profit,\u2014cool, and unhesitating, and unrelenting, as death and the grave. He\u2019d sell his own mother at a good percentage\u2014not wishing the old woman any harm, either.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd this wretch owns that good, faithful Tom, and Eliza\u2019s child!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, my dear, the fact is that this goes rather hard with me; it\u2019s a thing I hate to think of. Haley wants to drive matters, and take possession tomorrow. I\u2019m going to get out my horse bright and early, and be off. I can\u2019t see Tom, that\u2019s a fact; and you had better arrange a drive somewhere, and carry Eliza off. Let the thing be done when she is out of sight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, no,\u201d said Mrs. Shelby; \u201cI\u2019ll be in no sense accomplice or help in this cruel business. I\u2019ll go and see poor old Tom, God help him, in his distress! They shall see, at any rate, that their mistress can feel for and with them. As to Eliza, I dare not think about it. The Lord forgive us! What have we done, that this cruel necessity should come on us?\u201d<\/p>\n

There was one listener to this conversation whom Mr. and Mrs. Shelby little suspected.<\/p>\n

Communicating with their apartment was a large closet, opening by a door into the outer passage. When Mrs. Shelby had dismissed Eliza for the night, her feverish and excited mind had suggested the idea of this closet; and she had hidden herself there, and, with her ear pressed close against the crack of the door, had lost not a word of the conversation.<\/p>\n

When the voices died into silence, she rose and crept stealthily away. Pale, shivering, with rigid features and compressed lips, she looked an entirely altered being from the soft and timid creature she had been hitherto. She moved cautiously along the entry, paused one moment at her mistress\u2019 door, and raised her hands in mute appeal to Heaven, and then turned and glided into her own room. It was a quiet, neat apartment, on the same floor with her mistress. There was the pleasant sunny window, where she had often sat singing at her sewing; there a little case of books, and various little fancy articles, ranged by them, the gifts of Christmas holidays; there was her simple wardrobe in the closet and in the drawers:\u2014here was, in short, her home; and, on the whole, a happy one it had been to her. But there, on the bed, lay her slumbering boy, his long curls falling negligently around his unconscious face, his rosy mouth half open, his little fat hands thrown out over the bedclothes, and a smile spread like a sunbeam over his whole face.<\/p>\n

\u201cPoor boy! poor fellow!\u201d said Eliza; \u201cthey have sold you! but your mother will save you yet!\u201d<\/p>\n

No tear dropped over that pillow; in such straits as these, the heart has no tears to give,\u2014it drops only blood, bleeding itself away in silence. She took a piece of paper and a pencil, and wrote, hastily,<\/p>\n

\u201cO, Missis! dear Missis! don\u2019t think me ungrateful,\u2014don\u2019t think hard of me, any way,\u2014I heard all you and master said tonight. I am going to try to save my boy\u2014you will not blame me! God bless and reward you for all your kindness!\u201d<\/p>\n

Hastily folding and directing this, she went to a drawer and made up a little package of clothing for her boy, which she tied with a handkerchief firmly round her waist; and, so fond is a mother\u2019s remembrance, that, even in the terrors of that hour, she did not forget to put in the little package one or two of his favorite toys, reserving a gayly painted parrot to amuse him, when she should be called on to awaken him. It was some trouble to arouse the little sleeper; but, after some effort, he sat up, and was playing with his bird, while his mother was putting on her bonnet and shawl.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are you going, mother?\u201d said he, as she drew near the bed, with his little coat and cap.<\/p>\n

His mother drew near, and looked so earnestly into his eyes, that he at once divined that something unusual was the matter.<\/p>\n

\u201cHush, Harry,\u201d she said; \u201cmustn\u2019t speak loud, or they will hear us. A wicked man was coming to take little Harry away from his mother, and carry him \u2019way off in the dark; but mother won\u2019t let him\u2014she\u2019s going to put on her little boy\u2019s cap and coat, and run off with him, so the ugly man can\u2019t catch him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Saying these words, she had tied and buttoned on the child\u2019s simple outfit, and, taking him in her arms, she whispered to him to be very still; and, opening a door in her room which led into the outer verandah, she glided noiselessly out.<\/p>\n

It was a sparkling, frosty, starlight night, and the mother wrapped the shawl close round her child, as, perfectly quiet with vague terror, he clung round her neck.<\/p>\n

Old Bruno, a great Newfoundland, who slept at the end of the porch, rose, with a low growl, as she came near. She gently spoke his name, and the animal, an old pet and playmate of hers, instantly, wagging his tail, prepared to follow her, though apparently revolving much, in his simple dog\u2019s head, what such an indiscreet midnight promenade might mean. Some dim ideas of imprudence or impropriety in the measure seemed to embarrass him considerably; for he often stopped, as Eliza glided forward, and looked wistfully, first at her and then at the house, and then, as if reassured by reflection, he pattered along after her again. A few minutes brought them to the window of Uncle Tom\u2019s cottage, and Eliza, stopping, tapped lightly on the window-pane.<\/p>\n

The prayer-meeting at Uncle Tom\u2019s had, in the order of hymn-singing, been protracted to a very late hour; and, as Uncle Tom had indulged himself in a few lengthy solos afterwards, the consequence was, that, although it was now between twelve and one o\u2019clock, he and his worthy helpmeet were not yet asleep.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood Lord! what\u2019s that?\u201d said Aunt Chloe, starting up and hastily drawing the curtain. \u201cMy sakes alive, if it an\u2019t Lizy! Get on your clothes, old man, quick!\u2014there\u2019s old Bruno, too, a pawin\u2019 round; what on airth! I\u2019m gwine to open the door.\u201d<\/p>\n

And suiting the action to the word, the door flew open, and the light of the tallow candle, which Tom had hastily lighted, fell on the haggard face and dark, wild eyes of the fugitive.<\/p>\n

\u201cLord bless you!\u2014I\u2019m skeered to look at ye, Lizy! Are ye tuck sick, or what\u2019s come over ye?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m running away\u2014Uncle Tom and Aunt Chloe\u2014carrying off my child\u2014Master sold him!\u201d<\/p>\n

Eliza comes to tell Uncle Tom that he is sold, and that she is running away to save her child.
\n\u201cSold him?\u201d echoed both, lifting up their hands in dismay.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sold him!\u201d said Eliza, firmly; \u201cI crept into the closet by Mistress\u2019 door tonight, and I heard Master tell Missis that he had sold my Harry, and you, Uncle Tom, both, to a trader; and that he was going off this morning on his horse, and that the man was to take possession today.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tom had stood, during this speech, with his hands raised, and his eyes dilated, like a man in a dream. Slowly and gradually, as its meaning came over him, he collapsed, rather than seated himself, on his old chair, and sunk his head down upon his knees.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe good Lord have pity on us!\u201d said Aunt Chloe. \u201cO! it don\u2019t seem as if it was true! What has he done, that Mas\u2019r should sell\u00a0him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe hasn\u2019t done anything,\u2014it isn\u2019t for that. Master don\u2019t want to sell, and Missis she\u2019s always good. I heard her plead and beg for us; but he told her \u2019t was no use; that he was in this man\u2019s debt, and that this man had got the power over him; and that if he didn\u2019t pay him off clear, it would end in his having to sell the place and all the people, and move off. Yes, I heard him say there was no choice between selling these two and selling all, the man was driving him so hard. Master said he was sorry; but oh, Missis\u2014you ought to have heard her talk! If she an\u2019t a Christian and an angel, there never was one. I\u2019m a wicked girl to leave her so; but, then, I can\u2019t help it. She said, herself, one soul was worth more than the world; and this boy has a soul, and if I let him be carried off, who knows what\u2019ll become of it? It must be right: but, if it an\u2019t right, the Lord forgive me, for I can\u2019t help doing it!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, old man!\u201d said Aunt Chloe, \u201cwhy don\u2019t you go, too? Will you wait to be toted down river, where they kill niggers with hard work and starving? I\u2019d a heap rather die than go there, any day! There\u2019s time for ye,\u2014be off with Lizy,\u2014you\u2019ve got a pass to come and go any time. Come, bustle up, and I\u2019ll get your things together.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tom slowly raised his head, and looked sorrowfully but quietly around, and said,<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, no\u2014I an\u2019t going. Let Eliza go\u2014it\u2019s her right! I wouldn\u2019t be the one to say no\u2014\u2018tan\u2019t in\u00a0natur\u00a0for her to stay; but you heard what she said! If I must be sold, or all the people on the place, and everything go to rack, why, let me be sold. I s\u2019pose I can b\u2019ar it as well as any on \u2019em,\u201d he added, while something like a sob and a sigh shook his broad, rough chest convulsively. \u201cMas\u2019r always found me on the spot\u2014he always will. I never have broke trust, nor used my pass no ways contrary to my word, and I never will. It\u2019s better for me alone to go, than to break up the place and sell all. Mas\u2019r an\u2019t to blame, Chloe, and he\u2019ll take care of you and the poor\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Here he turned to the rough trundle bed full of little woolly heads, and broke fairly down. He leaned over the back of the chair, and covered his face with his large hands. Sobs, heavy, hoarse and loud, shook the chair, and great tears fell through his fingers on the floor; just such tears, sir, as you dropped into the coffin where lay your first-born son; such tears, woman, as you shed when you heard the cries of your dying babe. For, sir, he was a man,\u2014and you are but another man. And, woman, though dressed in silk and jewels, you are but a woman, and, in life\u2019s great straits and mighty griefs, ye feel but one sorrow!<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd now,\u201d said Eliza, as she stood in the door, \u201cI saw my husband only this afternoon, and I little knew then what was to come. They have pushed him to the very last standing place, and he told me, today, that he was going to run away. Do try, if you can, to get word to him. Tell him how I went, and why I went; and tell him I\u2019m going to try and find Canada. You must give my love to him, and tell him, if I never see him again,\u201d she turned away, and stood with her back to them for a moment, and then added, in a husky voice, \u201ctell him to be as good as he can, and try and meet me in the kingdom of heaven.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCall Bruno in there,\u201d she added. \u201cShut the door on him, poor beast! He mustn\u2019t go with me!\u201d<\/p>\n

A few last words and tears, a few simple adieus and blessings, and clasping her wondering and affrighted child in her arms, she glided noiselessly away.<\/p>\n

[click 2 to go to next chapter]<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

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<\/p>\n

In Chapter 6, the Shelby’s discover Eliza has escaped with her son Harry and Haley the slave trader is furious. Two enslaved hands on the farm, Sam and Andy, are enlisted to help Haley pursue Eliza but they create all kinds of diversions to slow Haley down and allow Eliza more time to get away. Chapter 7 below follows Eliza’s escape and Haley’s pursuit.<\/em><\/p>\n

CHAPTER VII<\/h6>\n

The Mother\u2019s Struggle<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

It is impossible to conceive of a human creature more wholly desolate and forlorn than Eliza, when she turned her footsteps from Uncle Tom\u2019s cabin.<\/p>\n

Her husband\u2019s suffering and dangers, and the danger of her child, all blended in her mind, with a confused and stunning sense of the risk she was running, in leaving the only home she had ever known, and cutting loose from the protection of a friend whom she loved and revered. Then there was the parting from every familiar object,\u2014the place where she had grown up, the trees under which she had played, the groves where she had walked many an evening in happier days, by the side of her young husband,\u2014everything, as it lay in the clear, frosty starlight, seemed to speak reproachfully to her, and ask her whither could she go from a home like that?<\/p>\n

But stronger than all was maternal love, wrought into a paroxysm of frenzy by the near approach of a fearful danger. Her boy was old enough to have walked by her side, and, in an indifferent case, she would only have led him by the hand; but now the bare thought of putting him out of her arms made her shudder, and she strained him to her bosom with a convulsive grasp, as she went rapidly forward.<\/p>\n

The frosty ground creaked beneath her feet, and she trembled at the sound; every quaking leaf and fluttering shadow sent the blood backward to her heart, and quickened her footsteps. She wondered within herself at the strength that seemed to be come upon her; for she felt the weight of her boy as if it had been a feather, and every flutter of fear seemed to increase the supernatural power that bore her on, while from her pale lips burst forth, in frequent ejaculations, the prayer to a Friend above\u2014\u201cLord, help! Lord, save me!\u201d<\/p>\n

If it were\u00a0your\u00a0Harry, mother, or your Willie, that were going to be torn from you by a brutal trader, tomorrow morning,\u2014if you had seen the man, and heard that the papers were signed and delivered, and you had only from twelve o\u2019clock till morning to make good your escape,\u2014how fast could\u00a0you\u00a0walk? How many miles could you make in those few brief hours, with the darling at your bosom,\u2014the little sleepy head on your shoulder,\u2014the small, soft arms trustingly holding on to your neck?<\/p>\n

For the child slept. At first, the novelty and alarm kept him waking; but his mother so hurriedly repressed every breath or sound, and so assured him that if he were only still she would certainly save him, that he clung quietly round her neck, only asking, as he found himself sinking to sleep,<\/p>\n

\u201cMother, I don\u2019t need to keep awake, do I?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, my darling; sleep, if you want to.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut, mother, if I do get asleep, you won\u2019t let him get me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo! so may God help me!\u201d said his mother, with a paler cheek, and a brighter light in her large dark eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re\u00a0sure, an\u2019t you, mother?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u00a0sure!\u201d said the mother, in a voice that startled herself; for it seemed to her to come from a spirit within, that was no part of her; and the boy dropped his little weary head on her shoulder, and was soon asleep. How the touch of those warm arms, the gentle breathings that came in her neck, seemed to add fire and spirit to her movements! It seemed to her as if strength poured into her in electric streams, from every gentle touch and movement of the sleeping, confiding child. Sublime is the dominion of the mind over the body, that, for a time, can make flesh and nerve impregnable, and string the sinews like steel, so that the weak become so mighty.<\/p>\n

The boundaries of the farm, the grove, the wood-lot, passed by her dizzily, as she walked on; and still she went, leaving one familiar object after another, slacking not, pausing not, till reddening daylight found her many a long mile from all traces of any familiar objects upon the open highway.<\/p>\n

She had often been, with her mistress, to visit some connections, in the little village of T\u2014\u2014, not far from the Ohio river, and knew the road well. To go thither, to escape across the Ohio river, were the first hurried outlines of her plan of escape; beyond that, she could only hope in God.<\/p>\n

When horses and vehicles began to move along the highway, with that alert perception peculiar to a state of excitement, and which seems to be a sort of inspiration, she became aware that her headlong pace and distracted air might bring on her remark and suspicion. She therefore put the boy on the ground, and, adjusting her dress and bonnet, she walked on at as rapid a pace as she thought consistent with the preservation of appearances. In her little bundle she had provided a store of cakes and apples, which she used as expedients for quickening the speed of the child, rolling the apple some yards before them, when the boy would run with all his might after it; and this ruse, often repeated, carried them over many a half-mile.<\/p>\n

After a while, they came to a thick patch of woodland, through which murmured a clear brook. As the child complained of hunger and thirst, she climbed over the fence with him; and, sitting down behind a large rock which concealed them from the road, she gave him a breakfast out of her little package. The boy wondered and grieved that she could not eat; and when, putting his arms round her neck, he tried to wedge some of his cake into her mouth, it seemed to her that the rising in her throat would choke her.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, no, Harry darling! mother can\u2019t eat till you are safe! We must go on\u2014on\u2014till we come to the river!\u201d And she hurried again into the road, and again constrained herself to walk regularly and composedly forward.<\/p>\n

She was many miles past any neighborhood where she was personally known. If she should chance to meet any who knew her, she reflected that the well-known kindness of the family would be of itself a blind to suspicion, as making it an unlikely supposition that she could be a fugitive. As she was also so white as not to be known as of colored lineage, without a critical survey, and her child was white also, it was much easier for her to pass on unsuspected.<\/p>\n

On this presumption, she stopped at noon at a neat farmhouse, to rest herself, and buy some dinner for her child and self; for, as the danger decreased with the distance, the supernatural tension of the nervous system lessened, and she found herself both weary and hungry.<\/p>\n

The good woman, kindly and gossipping, seemed rather pleased than otherwise with having somebody come in to talk with; and accepted, without examination, Eliza\u2019s statement, that she \u201cwas going on a little piece, to spend a week with her friends,\u201d\u2014all which she hoped in her heart might prove strictly true.<\/p>\n

An hour before sunset, she entered the village of T\u2014\u2014, by the Ohio river, weary and foot-sore, but still strong in heart. Her first glance was at the river, which lay, like Jordan, between her and the Canaan of liberty on the other side.<\/p>\n

It was now early spring, and the river was swollen and turbulent; great cakes of floating ice were swinging heavily to and fro in the turbid waters. Owing to the peculiar form of the shore on the Kentucky side, the land bending far out into the water, the ice had been lodged and detained in great quantities, and the narrow channel which swept round the bend was full of ice, piled one cake over another, thus forming a temporary barrier to the descending ice, which lodged, and formed a great, undulating raft, filling up the whole river, and extending almost to the Kentucky shore.<\/p>\n

Eliza stood, for a moment, contemplating this unfavorable aspect of things, which she saw at once must prevent the usual ferry-boat from running, and then turned into a small public house on the bank, to make a few inquiries.<\/p>\n

The hostess, who was busy in various fizzing and stewing operations over the fire, preparatory to the evening meal, stopped, with a fork in her hand, as Eliza\u2019s sweet and plaintive voice arrested her.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it?\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cIsn\u2019t there any ferry or boat, that takes people over to B\u2014\u2014, now?\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, indeed!\u201d said the woman; \u201cthe boats has stopped running.\u201d<\/p>\n

Eliza\u2019s look of dismay and disappointment struck the woman, and she said, inquiringly,<\/p>\n

\u201cMay be you\u2019re wanting to get over?\u2014anybody sick? Ye seem mighty anxious?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve got a child that\u2019s very dangerous,\u201d said Eliza. \u201cI never heard of it till last night, and I\u2019ve walked quite a piece today, in hopes to get to the ferry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, now, that\u2019s onlucky,\u201d said the woman, whose motherly sympathies were much aroused; \u201cI\u2019m re\u2019lly consarned for ye. Solomon!\u201d she called, from the window, towards a small back building. A man, in leather apron and very dirty hands, appeared at the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cI say, Sol,\u201d said the woman, \u201cis that ar man going to tote them bar\u2019ls over tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said he should try, if \u2019t was any way prudent,\u201d said the man.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s a man a piece down here, that\u2019s going over with some truck this evening, if he durs\u2019 to; he\u2019ll be in here to supper tonight, so you\u2019d better set down and wait. That\u2019s a sweet little fellow,\u201d added the woman, offering him a cake.<\/p>\n

But the child, wholly exhausted, cried with weariness.<\/p>\n

\u201cPoor fellow! he isn\u2019t used to walking, and I\u2019ve hurried him on so,\u201d said Eliza.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, take him into this room,\u201d said the woman, opening into a small bed-room, where stood a comfortable bed. Eliza laid the weary boy upon it, and held his hands in hers till he was fast asleep. For her there was no rest. As a fire in her bones, the thought of the pursuer urged her on; and she gazed with longing eyes on the sullen, surging waters that lay between her and liberty.<\/p>\n

Here we must take our leave of her for the present, to follow the course of her pursuers.<\/p>\n

Though Mrs. Shelby had promised that the dinner should be hurried on table, yet it was soon seen, as the thing has often been seen before, that it required more than one to make a bargain. So, although the order was fairly given out in Haley\u2019s hearing, and carried to Aunt Chloe by at least half a dozen juvenile messengers, that dignitary only gave certain very gruff snorts, and tosses of her head, and went on with every operation in an unusually leisurely and circumstantial manner.<\/p>\n

For some singular reason, an impression seemed to reign among the servants generally that Missis would not be particularly disobliged by delay; and it was wonderful what a number of counter accidents occurred constantly, to retard the course of things. One luckless wight contrived to upset the gravy; and then gravy had to be got up\u00a0de novo, with due care and formality, Aunt Chloe watching and stirring with dogged precision, answering shortly, to all suggestions of haste, that she \u201cwarn\u2019t a going to have raw gravy on the table, to help nobody\u2019s catchings.\u201d One tumbled down with the water, and had to go to the spring for more; and another precipitated the butter into the path of events; and there was from time to time giggling news brought into the kitchen that \u201cMas\u2019r Haley was mighty oneasy, and that he couldn\u2019t sit in his cheer no ways, but was a walkin\u2019 and stalkin\u2019 to the winders and through the porch.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSarves him right!\u201d said Aunt Chloe, indignantly. \u201cHe\u2019ll get wus nor oneasy, one of these days, if he don\u2019t mend his ways.\u00a0His\u00a0master\u2019ll be sending for him, and then see how he\u2019ll look!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019ll go to torment, and no mistake,\u201d said little Jake.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe desarves it!\u201d said Aunt Chloe, grimly; \u201che\u2019s broke a many, many, many hearts,\u2014I tell ye all!\u201d she said, stopping, with a fork uplifted in her hands; \u201cit\u2019s like what Mas\u2019r George reads in Ravelations,\u2014souls a callin\u2019 under the altar! and a callin\u2019 on the Lord for vengeance on sich!\u2014and by and by the Lord he\u2019ll hear \u2019em\u2014so he will!\u201d<\/p>\n

Aunt Chloe, who was much revered in the kitchen, was listened to with open mouth; and, the dinner being now fairly sent in, the whole kitchen was at leisure to gossip with her, and to listen to her remarks.<\/p>\n

\u201cSich\u2019ll be burnt up forever, and no mistake; won\u2019t ther?\u201d said Andy.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d be glad to see it, I\u2019ll be boun\u2019,\u201d said little Jake.<\/p>\n

\u201cChil\u2019en!\u201d said a voice, that made them all start. It was Uncle Tom, who had come in, and stood listening to the conversation at the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cChil\u2019en!\u201d he said, \u201cI\u2019m afeard you don\u2019t know what ye\u2019re sayin\u2019. Forever is a\u00a0dre\u2019ful\u00a0word, chil\u2019en; it\u2019s awful to think on \u2019t. You oughtenter wish that ar to any human crittur.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe wouldn\u2019t to anybody but the soul-drivers,\u201d said Andy; \u201cnobody can help wishing it to them, they \u2019s so awful wicked.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t natur herself kinder cry out on \u2019em?\u201d said Aunt Chloe. \u201cDon\u2019t dey tear der suckin\u2019 baby right off his mother\u2019s breast, and sell him, and der little children as is crying and holding on by her clothes,\u2014don\u2019t dey pull \u2019em off and sells \u2019em? Don\u2019t dey tear wife and husband apart?\u201d said Aunt Chloe, beginning to cry, \u201cwhen it\u2019s jest takin\u2019 the very life on \u2019em?\u2014and all the while does they feel one bit, don\u2019t dey drink and smoke, and take it oncommon easy? Lor, if the devil don\u2019t get them, what\u2019s he good for?\u201d And Aunt Chloe covered her face with her checked apron, and began to sob in good earnest.<\/p>\n

\u201cPray for them that \u2019spitefully use you, the good book says,\u201d says Tom.<\/p>\n

\u201cPray for \u2019em!\u201d said Aunt Chloe; \u201cLor, it\u2019s too tough! I can\u2019t pray for \u2019em.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s natur, Chloe, and natur \u2019s strong,\u201d said Tom, \u201cbut the Lord\u2019s grace is stronger; besides, you oughter think what an awful state a poor crittur\u2019s soul \u2019s in that\u2019ll do them ar things,\u2014you oughter thank God that you an\u2019t\u00a0like\u00a0him, Chloe. I\u2019m sure I\u2019d rather be sold, ten thousand times over, than to have all that ar poor crittur\u2019s got to answer for.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo \u2019d I, a heap,\u201d said Jake. \u201cLor,\u00a0shouldn\u2019t\u00a0we cotch it, Andy?\u201d<\/p>\n

Andy shrugged his shoulders, and gave an acquiescent whistle.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m glad Mas\u2019r didn\u2019t go off this morning, as he looked to,\u201d said Tom; \u201cthat ar hurt me more than sellin\u2019, it did. Mebbe it might have been natural for him, but \u2019t would have come desp\u2019t hard on me, as has known him from a baby; but I\u2019ve seen Mas\u2019r, and I begin ter feel sort o\u2019 reconciled to the Lord\u2019s will now. Mas\u2019r couldn\u2019t help hisself; he did right, but I\u2019m feared things will be kinder goin\u2019 to rack, when I\u2019m gone Mas\u2019r can\u2019t be spected to be a pryin\u2019 round everywhar, as I\u2019ve done, a keepin\u2019 up all the ends. The boys all means well, but they \u2019s powerful car\u2019less. That ar troubles me.\u201d<\/p>\n

The bell here rang, and Tom was summoned to the parlor.<\/p>\n

\u201cTom,\u201d said his master, kindly, \u201cI want you to notice that I give this gentleman bonds to forfeit a thousand dollars if you are not on the spot when he wants you; he\u2019s going today to look after his other business, and you can have the day to yourself. Go anywhere you like, boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, Mas\u2019r,\u201d said Tom.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd mind yourself,\u201d said the trader, \u201cand don\u2019t come it over your master with any o\u2019 yer nigger tricks; for I\u2019ll take every cent out of him, if you an\u2019t thar. If he\u2019d hear to me, he wouldn\u2019t trust any on ye\u2014slippery as eels!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMas\u2019r,\u201d said Tom,\u2014and he stood very straight,\u2014\u201cI was jist eight years old when ole Missis put you into my arms, and you wasn\u2019t a year old. \u2018Thar,\u2019 says she, \u2018Tom, that\u2019s to be\u00a0your\u00a0young Mas\u2019r; take good care on him,\u2019 says she. And now I jist ask you, Mas\u2019r, have I ever broke word to you, or gone contrary to you, \u2019specially since I was a Christian?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Shelby was fairly overcome, and the tears rose to his eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy good boy,\u201d said he, \u201cthe Lord knows you say but the truth; and if I was able to help it, all the world shouldn\u2019t buy you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd sure as I am a Christian woman,\u201d said Mrs. Shelby, \u201cyou shall be redeemed as soon as I can any way bring together means. Sir,\u201d she said to Haley, \u201ctake good account of who you sell him to, and let me know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLor, yes, for that matter,\u201d said the trader, \u201cI may bring him up in a year, not much the wuss for wear, and trade him back.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll trade with you then, and make it for your advantage,\u201d said Mrs. Shelby.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course,\u201d said the trader, \u201call \u2019s equal with me; li\u2019ves trade \u2019em up as down, so I does a good business. All I want is a livin\u2019, you know, ma\u2019am; that\u2019s all any on us wants, I, s\u2019pose.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. and Mrs. Shelby both felt annoyed and degraded by the familiar impudence of the trader, and yet both saw the absolute necessity of putting a constraint on their feelings. The more hopelessly sordid and insensible he appeared, the greater became Mrs. Shelby\u2019s dread of his succeeding in recapturing Eliza and her child, and of course the greater her motive for detaining him by every female artifice. She therefore graciously smiled, assented, chatted familiarly, and did all she could to make time pass imperceptibly.<\/p>\n

At two o\u2019clock Sam and Andy brought the horses up to the posts, apparently greatly refreshed and invigorated by the scamper of the morning.<\/p>\n

Sam was there new oiled from dinner, with an abundance of zealous and ready officiousness. As Haley approached, he was boasting, in flourishing style, to Andy, of the evident and eminent success of the operation, now that he had \u201cfarly come to it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour master, I s\u2019pose, don\u2019t keep no dogs,\u201d said Haley, thoughtfully, as he prepared to mount.<\/p>\n

\u201cHeaps on \u2019em,\u201d said Sam, triumphantly; \u201cthar\u2019s Bruno\u2014he\u2019s a roarer! and, besides that, \u2019bout every nigger of us keeps a pup of some natur or uther.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPoh!\u201d said Haley,\u2014and he said something else, too, with regard to the said dogs, at which Sam muttered,<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t see no use cussin\u2019 on \u2019em, no way.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut your master don\u2019t keep no dogs (I pretty much know he don\u2019t) for trackin\u2019 out niggers.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sam knew exactly what he meant, but he kept on a look of earnest and desperate simplicity.<\/p>\n

\u201cOur dogs all smells round considable sharp. I spect they\u2019s the kind, though they han\u2019t never had no practice. They \u2019s\u00a0far\u00a0dogs, though, at most anything, if you\u2019d get \u2019em started. Here, Bruno,\u201d he called, whistling to the lumbering Newfoundland, who came pitching tumultuously toward them.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou go hang!\u201d said Haley, getting up. \u201cCome, tumble up now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sam tumbled up accordingly, dexterously contriving to tickle Andy as he did so, which occasioned Andy to split out into a laugh, greatly to Haley\u2019s indignation, who made a cut at him with his riding-whip.<\/p>\n

\u201cI \u2019s \u2019stonished at yer, Andy,\u201d said Sam, with awful gravity. \u201cThis yer\u2019s a seris bisness, Andy. Yer mustn\u2019t be a makin\u2019 game. This yer an\u2019t no way to help Mas\u2019r.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI shall take the straight road to the river,\u201d said Haley, decidedly, after they had come to the boundaries of the estate. \u201cI know the way of all of \u2019em,\u2014they makes tracks for the underground.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSartin,\u201d said Sam, \u201cdat\u2019s de idee. Mas\u2019r Haley hits de thing right in de middle. Now, der\u2019s two roads to de river,\u2014de dirt road and der pike,\u2014which Mas\u2019r mean to take?\u201d<\/p>\n

Andy looked up innocently at Sam, surprised at hearing this new geographical fact, but instantly confirmed what he said, by a vehement reiteration.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2019Cause,\u201d said Sam, \u201cI\u2019d rather be \u2019clined to \u2019magine that Lizy \u2019d take de dirt road, bein\u2019 it\u2019s the least travelled.\u201d<\/p>\n

Haley, notwithstanding that he was a very old bird, and naturally inclined to be suspicious of chaff, was rather brought up by this view of the case.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf yer warn\u2019t both on yer such cussed liars, now!\u201d he said, contemplatively as he pondered a moment.<\/p>\n

The pensive, reflective tone in which this was spoken appeared to amuse Andy prodigiously, and he drew a little behind, and shook so as apparently to run a great risk of failing off his horse, while Sam\u2019s face was immovably composed into the most doleful gravity.<\/p>\n

\u201cCourse,\u201d said Sam, \u201cMas\u2019r can do as he\u2019d ruther, go de straight road, if Mas\u2019r thinks best,\u2014it\u2019s all one to us. Now, when I study \u2019pon it, I think de straight road de best,\u00a0deridedly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe would naturally go a lonesome way,\u201d said Haley, thinking aloud, and not minding Sam\u2019s remark.<\/p>\n

\u201cDar an\u2019t no sayin\u2019,\u201d said Sam; \u201cgals is pecular; they never does nothin\u2019 ye thinks they will; mose gen\u2019lly the contrary. Gals is nat\u2019lly made contrary; and so, if you thinks they\u2019ve gone one road, it is sartin you\u2019d better go t\u2019 other, and then you\u2019ll be sure to find \u2019em. Now, my private \u2019pinion is, Lizy took der road; so I think we\u2019d better take de straight one.\u201d<\/p>\n

This profound generic view of the female sex did not seem to dispose Haley particularly to the straight road, and he announced decidedly that he should go the other, and asked Sam when they should come to it.<\/p>\n

\u201cA little piece ahead,\u201d said Sam, giving a wink to Andy with the eye which was on Andy\u2019s side of the head; and he added, gravely, \u201cbut I\u2019ve studded on de matter, and I\u2019m quite clar we ought not to go dat ar way. I nebber been over it no way. It\u2019s despit lonesome, and we might lose our way,\u2014whar we\u2019d come to, de Lord only knows.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNevertheless,\u201d said Haley, \u201cI shall go that way.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNow I think on \u2019t, I think I hearn \u2019em tell that dat ar road was all fenced up and down by der creek, and thar, an\u2019t it, Andy?\u201d<\/p>\n

Andy wasn\u2019t certain; he\u2019d only \u201chearn tell\u201d about that road, but never been over it. In short, he was strictly noncommittal.<\/p>\n

Haley, accustomed to strike the balance of probabilities between lies of greater or lesser magnitude, thought that it lay in favor of the dirt road aforesaid. The mention of the thing he thought he perceived was involuntary on Sam\u2019s part at first, and his confused attempts to dissuade him he set down to a desperate lying on second thoughts, as being unwilling to implicate Liza.<\/p>\n

When, therefore, Sam indicated the road, Haley plunged briskly into it, followed by Sam and Andy.<\/p>\n

Now, the road, in fact, was an old one, that had formerly been a thoroughfare to the river, but abandoned for many years after the laying of the new pike. It was open for about an hour\u2019s ride, and after that it was cut across by various farms and fences. Sam knew this fact perfectly well,\u2014indeed, the road had been so long closed up, that Andy had never heard of it. He therefore rode along with an air of dutiful submission, only groaning and vociferating occasionally that \u2019t was \u201cdesp\u2019t rough, and bad for Jerry\u2019s foot.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNow, I jest give yer warning,\u201d said Haley, \u201cI know yer; yer won\u2019t get me to turn off this road, with all yer fussin\u2019\u2014so you shet up!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMas\u2019r will go his own way!\u201d said Sam, with rueful submission, at the same time winking most portentously to Andy, whose delight was now very near the explosive point.<\/p>\n

Sam was in wonderful spirits,\u2014professed to keep a very brisk lookout,\u2014at one time exclaiming that he saw \u201ca gal\u2019s bonnet\u201d on the top of some distant eminence, or calling to Andy \u201cif that thar wasn\u2019t \u2018Lizy\u2019 down in the hollow;\u201d always making these exclamations in some rough or craggy part of the road, where the sudden quickening of speed was a special inconvenience to all parties concerned, and thus keeping Haley in a state of constant commotion.<\/p>\n

After riding about an hour in this way, the whole party made a precipitate and tumultuous descent into a barn-yard belonging to a large farming establishment. Not a soul was in sight, all the hands being employed in the fields; but, as the barn stood conspicuously and plainly square across the road, it was evident that their journey in that direction had reached a decided finale.<\/p>\n

\u201cWan\u2019t dat ar what I telled Mas\u2019r?\u201d said Sam, with an air of injured innocence. \u201cHow does strange gentleman spect to know more about a country dan de natives born and raised?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou rascal!\u201d said Haley, \u201cyou knew all about this.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDidn\u2019t I tell yer I\u00a0knowd, and yer wouldn\u2019t believe me? I telled Mas\u2019r \u2019t was all shet up, and fenced up, and I didn\u2019t spect we could get through,\u2014Andy heard me.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was all too true to be disputed, and the unlucky man had to pocket his wrath with the best grace he was able, and all three faced to the right about, and took up their line of march for the highway.<\/p>\n

In consequence of all the various delays, it was about three-quarters of an hour after Eliza had laid her child to sleep in the village tavern that the party came riding into the same place. Eliza was standing by the window, looking out in another direction, when Sam\u2019s quick eye caught a glimpse of her. Haley and Andy were two yards behind. At this crisis, Sam contrived to have his hat blown off, and uttered a loud and characteristic ejaculation, which startled her at once; she drew suddenly back; the whole train swept by the window, round to the front door.<\/p>\n

A thousand lives seemed to be concentrated in that one moment to Eliza. Her room opened by a side door to the river. She caught her child, and sprang down the steps towards it. The trader caught a full glimpse of her just as she was disappearing down the bank; and throwing himself from his horse, and calling loudly on Sam and Andy, he was after her like a hound after a deer. In that dizzy moment her feet to her scarce seemed to touch the ground, and a moment brought her to the water\u2019s edge. Right on behind they came; and, nerved with strength such as God gives only to the desperate, with one wild cry and flying leap, she vaulted sheer over the turbid current by the shore, on to the raft of ice beyond. It was a desperate leap\u2014impossible to anything but madness and despair; and Haley, Sam, and Andy, instinctively cried out, and lifted up their hands, as she did it.<\/p>\n

The huge green fragment of ice on which she alighted pitched and creaked as her weight came on it, but she staid there not a moment. With wild cries and desperate energy she leaped to another and still another cake; stumbling\u2014leaping\u2014slipping\u2014springing upwards again! Her shoes are gone\u2014her stockings cut from her feet\u2014while blood marked every step; but she saw nothing, felt nothing, till dimly, as in a dream, she saw the Ohio side, and a man helping her up the bank.<\/p>\n

\u201cYer a brave gal, now, whoever ye ar!\u201d said the man, with an oath.<\/p>\n

Eliza recognized the voice and face for a man who owned a farm not far from her old home.<\/p>\n

\u201cO, Mr. Symmes!\u2014save me\u2014do save me\u2014do hide me!\u201d said Eliza.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, what\u2019s this?\u201d said the man. \u201cWhy, if \u2019tan\u2019t Shelby\u2019s gal!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy child!\u2014this boy!\u2014he\u2019d sold him! There is his Mas\u2019r,\u201d said she, pointing to the Kentucky shore. \u201cO, Mr. Symmes, you\u2019ve got a little boy!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo I have,\u201d said the man, as he roughly, but kindly, drew her up the steep bank. \u201cBesides, you\u2019re a right brave gal. I like grit, wherever I see it.\u201d<\/p>\n

When they had gained the top of the bank, the man paused.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d be glad to do something for ye,\u201d said he; \u201cbut then there\u2019s nowhar I could take ye. The best I can do is to tell ye to go\u00a0thar,\u201d said he, pointing to a large white house which stood by itself, off the main street of the village. \u201cGo thar; they\u2019re kind folks. Thar\u2019s no kind o\u2019 danger but they\u2019ll help you,\u2014they\u2019re up to all that sort o\u2019 thing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Lord bless you!\u201d said Eliza, earnestly.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo \u2019casion, no \u2019casion in the world,\u201d said the man. \u201cWhat I\u2019ve done\u2019s of no \u2019count.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd, oh, surely, sir, you won\u2019t tell any one!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGo to thunder, gal! What do you take a feller for? In course not,\u201d said the man. \u201cCome, now, go along like a likely, sensible gal, as you are. You\u2019ve arnt your liberty, and you shall have it, for all me.\u201d<\/p>\n

The woman folded her child to her bosom, and walked firmly and swiftly away. The man stood and looked after her.<\/p>\n

\u201cShelby, now, mebbe won\u2019t think this yer the most neighborly thing in the world; but what\u2019s a feller to do? If he catches one of my gals in the same fix, he\u2019s welcome to pay back. Somehow I never could see no kind o\u2019 critter a strivin\u2019 and pantin\u2019, and trying to clar theirselves, with the dogs arter \u2019em and go agin \u2019em. Besides, I don\u2019t see no kind of \u2019casion for me to be hunter and catcher for other folks, neither.\u201d<\/p>\n

So spoke this poor, heathenish Kentuckian, who had not been instructed in his constitutional relations, and consequently was betrayed into acting in a sort of Christianized manner, which, if he had been better situated and more enlightened, he would not have been left to do.<\/p>\n

Haley had stood a perfectly amazed spectator of the scene, till Eliza had disappeared up the bank, when he turned a blank, inquiring look on Sam and Andy.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat ar was a tolable fair stroke of business,\u201d said Sam.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe gal \u2019s got seven devils in her, I believe!\u201d said Haley. \u201cHow like a wildcat she jumped!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWal, now,\u201d said Sam, scratching his head, \u201cI hope Mas\u2019r\u2019ll \u2019scuse us trying dat ar road. Don\u2019t think I feel spry enough for dat ar, no way!\u201d and Sam gave a hoarse chuckle.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u00a0laugh!\u201d said the trader, with a growl.<\/p>\n

\u201cLord bless you, Mas\u2019r, I couldn\u2019t help it now,\u201d said Sam, giving way to the long pent-up delight of his soul. \u201cShe looked so curi\u2019s, a leapin\u2019 and springin\u2019\u2014ice a crackin\u2019\u2014and only to hear her,\u2014plump! ker chunk! ker splash! Spring! Lord! how she goes it!\u201d and Sam and Andy laughed till the tears rolled down their cheeks.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll make ye laugh t\u2019 other side yer mouths!\u201d said the trader, laying about their heads with his riding-whip.<\/p>\n

Both ducked, and ran shouting up the bank, and were on their horses before he was up.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood-evening, Mas\u2019r!\u201d said Sam, with much gravity. \u201cI berry much spect Missis be anxious \u2019bout Jerry. Mas\u2019r Haley won\u2019t want us no longer. Missis wouldn\u2019t hear of our ridin\u2019 the critters over Lizy\u2019s bridge tonight;\u201d and, with a facetious poke into Andy\u2019s ribs, he started off, followed by the latter, at full speed,\u2014their shouts of laughter coming faintly on the wind.<\/p>\n

[Click 3 to go to next chapter]<\/em><\/p>\n

\n

Chapter 9 opens on the Bird household. Senator Bird serves in the Ohio legislature, where a fugitive slave law has been recently adopted to keep peace with the slave state of Kentucky just over the Ohio River. It’s worth noting that Stowe and her family lived for a number of years in Cincinnati, where Stowe witnessed the horrors of a slave auction in Kentucky and encountered freedom-seeking people escaping slavery in Ohio. The passing of the federal version of this law, the 1850 Fugitive Slave Act, the loss of her first-born son to cholera in 1849, and the experience of seeing mothers separated from their children on the auction block were factors that inspired her to write this novel. Mrs. Bird is often cited as the character most aligned with the author.<\/em><\/p>\n

CHAPTER IX<\/h6>\n

In Which It Appears That a Senator Is But a Man<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n

The light of the cheerful fire shone on the rug and carpet of a cosey parlor, and glittered on the sides of the tea-cups and well-brightened tea-pot, as Senator Bird was drawing off his boots, preparatory to inserting his feet in a pair of new handsome slippers, which his wife had been working for him while away on his senatorial tour. Mrs. Bird, looking the very picture of delight, was superintending the arrangements of the table, ever and anon mingling admonitory remarks to a number of frolicsome juveniles, who were effervescing in all those modes of untold gambol and mischief that have astonished mothers ever since the flood.<\/p>\n

\u201cTom, let the door-knob alone,\u2014there\u2019s a man! Mary! Mary! don\u2019t pull the cat\u2019s tail,\u2014poor pussy! Jim, you mustn\u2019t climb on that table,\u2014no, no!\u2014You don\u2019t know, my dear, what a surprise it is to us all, to see you here tonight!\u201d said she, at last, when she found a space to say something to her husband.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, yes, I thought I\u2019d just make a run down, spend the night, and have a little comfort at home. I\u2019m tired to death, and my head aches!\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Bird cast a glance at a camphor-bottle, which stood in the half-open closet, and appeared to meditate an approach to it, but her husband interposed.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, no, Mary, no doctoring! a cup of your good hot tea, and some of our good home living, is what I want. It\u2019s a tiresome business, this legislating!\u201d<\/p>\n

And the senator smiled, as if he rather liked the idea of considering himself a sacrifice to his country.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell,\u201d said his wife, after the business of the tea-table was getting rather slack, \u201cand what have they been doing in the Senate?\u201d<\/p>\n

Now, it was a very unusual thing for gentle little Mrs. Bird ever to trouble her head with what was going on in the house of the state, very wisely considering that she had enough to do to mind her own. Mr. Bird, therefore, opened his eyes in surprise, and said,<\/p>\n

\u201cNot very much of importance.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell; but is it true that they have been passing a law forbidding people to give meat and drink to those poor colored folks that come along? I heard they were talking of some such law, but I didn\u2019t think any Christian legislature would pass it!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, Mary, you are getting to be a politician, all at once.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, nonsense! I wouldn\u2019t give a fig for all your politics, generally, but I think this is something downright cruel and unchristian. I hope, my dear, no such law has been passed.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere has been a law passed forbidding people to help off the slaves that come over from Kentucky, my dear; so much of that thing has been done by these reckless Abolitionists, that our brethren in Kentucky are very strongly excited, and it seems necessary, and no more than Christian and kind, that something should be done by our state to quiet the excitement.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd what is the law? It don\u2019t forbid us to shelter those poor creatures a night, does it, and to give \u2019em something comfortable to eat, and a few old clothes, and send them quietly about their business?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, yes, my dear; that would be aiding and abetting, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Bird was a timid, blushing little woman, of about four feet in height, and with mild blue eyes, and a peach-blow complexion, and the gentlest, sweetest voice in the world;\u2014as for courage, a moderate-sized cock-turkey had been known to put her to rout at the very first gobble, and a stout house-dog, of moderate capacity, would bring her into subjection merely by a show of his teeth. Her husband and children were her entire world, and in these she ruled more by entreaty and persuasion than by command or argument. There was only one thing that was capable of arousing her, and that provocation came in on the side of her unusually gentle and sympathetic nature;\u2014anything in the shape of cruelty would throw her into a passion, which was the more alarming and inexplicable in proportion to the general softness of her nature. Generally the most indulgent and easy to be entreated of all mothers, still her boys had a very reverent remembrance of a most vehement chastisement she once bestowed on them, because she found them leagued with several graceless boys of the neighborhood, stoning a defenceless kitten.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll tell you what,\u201d Master Bill used to say, \u201cI was scared that time. Mother came at me so that I thought she was crazy, and I was whipped and tumbled off to bed, without any supper, before I could get over wondering what had come about; and, after that, I heard mother crying outside the door, which made me feel worse than all the rest. I\u2019ll tell you what,\u201d he\u2019d say, \u201cwe boys never stoned another kitten!\u201d<\/p>\n

On the present occasion, Mrs. Bird rose quickly, with very red cheeks, which quite improved her general appearance, and walked up to her husband, with quite a resolute air, and said, in a determined tone,<\/p>\n

\u201cNow, John, I want to know if you think such a law as that is right and Christian?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou won\u2019t shoot me, now, Mary, if I say I do!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI never could have thought it of you, John; you didn\u2019t vote for it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEven so, my fair politician.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou ought to be ashamed, John! Poor, homeless, houseless creatures! It\u2019s a shameful, wicked, abominable law, and I\u2019ll break it, for one, the first time I get a chance; and I hope I\u00a0shall\u00a0have a chance, I do! Things have got to a pretty pass, if a woman can\u2019t give a warm supper and a bed to poor, starving creatures, just because they are slaves, and have been abused and oppressed all their lives, poor things!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut, Mary, just listen to me. Your feelings are all quite right, dear, and interesting, and I love you for them; but, then, dear, we mustn\u2019t suffer our feelings to run away with our judgment; you must consider it\u2019s a matter of private feeling,\u2014there are great public interests involved,\u2014there is such a state of public agitation rising, that we must put aside our private feelings.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNow, John, I don\u2019t know anything about politics, but I can read my Bible; and there I see that I must feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and comfort the desolate; and that Bible I mean to follow.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut in cases where your doing so would involve a great public evil\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cObeying God never brings on public evils. I know it can\u2019t. It\u2019s always safest, all round, to\u00a0do as He\u00a0bids us.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow, listen to me, Mary, and I can state to you a very clear argument, to show\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cO, nonsense, John! you can talk all night, but you wouldn\u2019t do it. I put it to you, John,\u2014would\u00a0you\u00a0now turn away a poor, shivering, hungry creature from your door, because he was a runaway?\u00a0Would\u00a0you, now?\u201d<\/p>\n

Now, if the truth must be told, our senator had the misfortune to be a man who had a particularly humane and accessible nature, and turning away anybody that was in trouble never had been his forte; and what was worse for him in this particular pinch of the argument was, that his wife knew it, and, of course was making an assault on rather an indefensible point. So he had recourse to the usual means of gaining time for such cases made and provided; he said \u201cahem,\u201d and coughed several times, took out his pocket-handkerchief, and began to wipe his glasses. Mrs. Bird, seeing the defenceless condition of the enemy\u2019s territory, had no more conscience than to push her advantage.<\/p>\n

\u201cI should like to see you doing that, John\u2014I really should! Turning a woman out of doors in a snowstorm, for instance; or may be you\u2019d take her up and put her in jail, wouldn\u2019t you? You would make a great hand at that!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course, it would be a very painful duty,\u201d began Mr. Bird, in a moderate tone.<\/p>\n

\u201cDuty, John! don\u2019t use that word! You know it isn\u2019t a duty\u2014it can\u2019t be a duty! If folks want to keep their slaves from running away, let \u2019em treat \u2019em well,\u2014that\u2019s my doctrine. If I had slaves (as I hope I never shall have), I\u2019d risk their wanting to run away from me, or you either, John. I tell you folks don\u2019t run away when they are happy; and when they do run, poor creatures! they suffer enough with cold and hunger and fear, without everybody\u2019s turning against them; and, law or no law, I never will, so help me God!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMary! Mary! My dear, let me reason with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI hate reasoning, John,\u2014especially reasoning on such subjects. There\u2019s a way you political folks have of coming round and round a plain right thing; and you don\u2019t believe in it yourselves, when it comes to practice. I know\u00a0you\u00a0well enough, John. You don\u2019t believe it\u2019s right any more than I do; and you wouldn\u2019t do it any sooner than I.\u201d<\/p>\n

At this critical juncture, old Cudjoe, the black man-of-all-work, put his head in at the door, and wished \u201cMissis would come into the kitchen;\u201d and our senator, tolerably relieved, looked after his little wife with a whimsical mixture of amusement and vexation, and, seating himself in the arm-chair, began to read the papers.<\/p>\n

After a moment, his wife\u2019s voice was heard at the door, in a quick, earnest tone,\u2014\u201cJohn! John! I do wish you\u2019d come here, a moment.\u201d<\/p>\n

He laid down his paper, and went into the kitchen, and started, quite amazed at the sight that presented itself:\u2014A young and slender woman, with garments torn and frozen, with one shoe gone, and the stocking torn away from the cut and bleeding foot, was laid back in a deadly swoon upon two chairs. There was the impress of the despised race on her face, yet none could help feeling its mournful and pathetic beauty, while its stony sharpness, its cold, fixed, deathly aspect, struck a solemn chill over him. He drew his breath short, and stood in silence. His wife, and their only colored domestic, old Aunt Dinah, were busily engaged in restorative measures; while old Cudjoe had got the boy on his knee, and was busy pulling off his shoes and stockings, and chafing his little cold feet.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure, now, if she an\u2019t a sight to behold!\u201d said old Dinah, compassionately; \u201c\u2018pears like \u2019t was the heat that made her faint. She was tol\u2019able peart when she cum in, and asked if she couldn\u2019t warm herself here a spell; and I was just a-askin\u2019 her where she cum from, and she fainted right down. Never done much hard work, guess, by the looks of her hands.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPoor creature!\u201d said Mrs. Bird, compassionately, as the woman slowly unclosed her large, dark eyes, and looked vacantly at her. Suddenly an expression of agony crossed her face, and she sprang up, saying, \u201cO, my Harry! Have they got him?\u201d<\/p>\n

The boy, at this, jumped from Cudjoe\u2019s knee, and running to her side put up his arms. \u201cO, he\u2019s here! he\u2019s here!\u201d she exclaimed.<\/p>\n

\u201cO, ma\u2019am!\u201d said she, wildly, to Mrs. Bird, \u201cdo protect us! don\u2019t let them get him!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNobody shall hurt you here, poor woman,\u201d said Mrs. Bird, encouragingly. \u201cYou are safe; don\u2019t be afraid.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGod bless you!\u201d said the woman, covering her face and sobbing; while the little boy, seeing her crying, tried to get into her lap.<\/p>\n

With many gentle and womanly offices, which none knew better how to render than Mrs. Bird, the poor woman was, in time, rendered more calm. A temporary bed was provided for her on the settle, near the fire; and, after a short time, she fell into a heavy slumber, with the child, who seemed no less weary, soundly sleeping on her arm; for the mother resisted, with nervous anxiety, the kindest attempts to take him from her; and, even in sleep, her arm encircled him with an unrelaxing clasp, as if she could not even then be beguiled of her vigilant hold.<\/p>\n

Mr. and Mrs. Bird had gone back to the parlor, where, strange as it may appear, no reference was made, on either side, to the preceding conversation; but Mrs. Bird busied herself with her knitting-work, and Mr. Bird pretended to be reading the paper.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wonder who and what she is!\u201d said Mr. Bird, at last, as he laid it down.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen she wakes up and feels a little rested, we will see,\u201d said Mrs. Bird.<\/p>\n

\u201cI say, wife!\u201d said Mr. Bird after musing in silence over his newspaper.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, dear!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe couldn\u2019t wear one of your gowns, could she, by any letting down, or such matter? She seems to be rather larger than you are.\u201d<\/p>\n

A quite perceptible smile glimmered on Mrs. Bird\u2019s face, as she answered, \u201cWe\u2019ll see.\u201d<\/p>\n

Another pause, and Mr. Bird again broke out,<\/p>\n

\u201cI say, wife!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell! What now?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, there\u2019s that old bombazin cloak, that you keep on purpose to put over me when I take my afternoon\u2019s nap; you might as well give her that,\u2014she needs clothes.\u201d<\/p>\n

At this instant, Dinah looked in to say that the woman was awake, and wanted to see Missis.<\/p>\n

Mr. and Mrs. Bird went into the kitchen, followed by the two eldest boys, the smaller fry having, by this time, been safely disposed of in bed.<\/p>\n

The woman was now sitting up on the settle, by the fire. She was looking steadily into the blaze, with a calm, heart-broken expression, very different from her former agitated wildness.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you want me?\u201d said Mrs. Bird, in gentle tones. \u201cI hope you feel better now, poor woman!\u201d<\/p>\n

A long-drawn, shivering sigh was the only answer; but she lifted her dark eyes, and fixed them on her with such a forlorn and imploring expression, that the tears came into the little woman\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou needn\u2019t be afraid of anything; we are friends here, poor woman! Tell me where you came from, and what you want,\u201d said she.<\/p>\n

\u201cI came from Kentucky,\u201d said the woman.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen?\u201d said Mr. Bird, taking up the interogatory.<\/p>\n

\u201cTonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow did you come?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI crossed on the ice.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCrossed on the ice!\u201d said every one present.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d said the woman, slowly, \u201cI did. God helping me, I crossed on the ice; for they were behind me\u2014right behind\u2014and there was no other way!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLaw, Missis,\u201d said Cudjoe, \u201cthe ice is all in broken-up blocks, a swinging and a tetering up and down in the water!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know it was\u2014I know it!\u201d said she, wildly; \u201cbut I did it! I wouldn\u2019t have thought I could,\u2014I didn\u2019t think I should get over, but I didn\u2019t care! I could but die, if I didn\u2019t. The Lord helped me; nobody knows how much the Lord can help \u2019em, till they try,\u201d said the woman, with a flashing eye.<\/p>\n

\u201cWere you a slave?\u201d said Mr. Bird.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir; I belonged to a man in Kentucky.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWas he unkind to you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, sir; he was a good master.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd was your mistress unkind to you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, sir\u2014no! my mistress was always good to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat could induce you to leave a good home, then, and run away, and go through such dangers?\u201d<\/p>\n

The woman looked up at Mrs. Bird, with a keen, scrutinizing glance, and it did not escape her that she was dressed in deep mourning.<\/p>\n

\u201cMa\u2019am,\u201d she said, suddenly, \u201chave you ever lost a child?\u201d<\/p>\n

The question was unexpected, and it was thrust on a new wound; for it was only a month since a darling child of the family had been laid in the grave.<\/p>\n

Mr. Bird turned around and walked to the window, and Mrs. Bird burst into tears; but, recovering her voice, she said,<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy do you ask that? I have lost a little one.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen you will feel for me. I have lost two, one after another,\u2014left \u2019em buried there when I came away; and I had only this one left. I never slept a night without him; he was all I had. He was my comfort and pride, day and night; and, ma\u2019am, they were going to take him away from me,\u2014to\u00a0sell\u00a0him,\u2014sell him down south, ma\u2019am, to go all alone,\u2014a baby that had never been away from his mother in his life! I couldn\u2019t stand it, ma\u2019am. I knew I never should be good for anything, if they did; and when I knew the papers were signed, and he was sold, I took him and came off in the night; and they chased me,\u2014the man that bought him, and some of Mas\u2019r\u2019s folks,\u2014and they were coming down right behind me, and I heard \u2019em. I jumped right on to the ice; and how I got across, I don\u2019t know,\u2014but, first I knew, a man was helping me up the bank.\u201d<\/p>\n

The woman did not sob nor weep. She had gone to a place where tears are dry; but every one around her was, in some way characteristic of themselves, showing signs of hearty sympathy.<\/p>\n

The two little boys, after a desperate rummaging in their pockets, in search of those pocket-handkerchiefs which mothers know are never to be found there, had thrown themselves disconsolately into the skirts of their mother\u2019s gown, where they were sobbing, and wiping their eyes and noses, to their hearts\u2019 content;\u2014Mrs. Bird had her face fairly hidden in her pocket-handkerchief; and old Dinah, with tears streaming down her black, honest face, was ejaculating, \u201cLord have mercy on us!\u201d with all the fervor of a camp-meeting;\u2014while old Cudjoe, rubbing his eyes very hard with his cuffs, and making a most uncommon variety of wry faces, occasionally responded in the same key, with great fervor. Our senator was a statesman, and of course could not be expected to cry, like other mortals; and so he turned his back to the company, and looked out of the window, and seemed particularly busy in clearing his throat and wiping his spectacle-glasses, occasionally blowing his nose in a manner that was calculated to excite suspicion, had any one been in a state to observe critically.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow came you to tell me you had a kind master?\u201d he suddenly exclaimed, gulping down very resolutely some kind of rising in his throat, and turning suddenly round upon the woman.<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause he\u00a0was\u00a0a kind master; I\u2019ll say that of him, any way;\u2014and my mistress was kind; but they couldn\u2019t help themselves. They were owing money; and there was some way, I can\u2019t tell how, that a man had a hold on them, and they were obliged to give him his will. I listened, and heard him telling mistress that, and she begging and pleading for me,\u2014and he told her he couldn\u2019t help himself, and that the papers were all drawn;\u2014and then it was I took him and left my home, and came away. I knew \u2019t was no use of my trying to live, if they did it; for \u2019t \u2019pears like this child is all I have.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHave you no husband?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, but he belongs to another man. His master is real hard to him, and won\u2019t let him come to see me, hardly ever; and he\u2019s grown harder and harder upon us, and he threatens to sell him down south;\u2014it\u2019s like I\u2019ll never see\u00a0him\u00a0again!\u201d<\/p>\n

The quiet tone in which the woman pronounced these words might have led a superficial observer to think that she was entirely apathetic; but there was a calm, settled depth of anguish in her large, dark eye, that spoke of something far otherwise.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd where do you mean to go, my poor woman?\u201d said Mrs. Bird.<\/p>\n

\u201cTo Canada, if I only knew where that was. Is it very far off, is Canada?\u201d said she, looking up, with a simple, confiding air, to Mrs. Bird\u2019s face.<\/p>\n

\u201cPoor thing!\u201d said Mrs. Bird, involuntarily.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs \u2019t a very great way off, think?\u201d said the woman, earnestly.<\/p>\n

\u201cMuch further than you think, poor child!\u201d said Mrs. Bird; \u201cbut we will try to think what can be done for you. Here, Dinah, make her up a bed in your own room, close by the kitchen, and I\u2019ll think what to do for her in the morning. Meanwhile, never fear, poor woman; put your trust in God; he will protect you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Bird and her husband reentered the parlor. She sat down in her little rocking-chair before the fire, swaying thoughtfully to and fro. Mr. Bird strode up and down the room, grumbling to himself, \u201cPish! pshaw! confounded awkward business!\u201d At length, striding up to his wife, he said,<\/p>\n

\u201cI say, wife, she\u2019ll have to get away from here, this very night. That fellow will be down on the scent bright and early tomorrow morning: if \u2019t was only the woman, she could lie quiet till it was over; but that little chap can\u2019t be kept still by a troop of horse and foot, I\u2019ll warrant me; he\u2019ll bring it all out, popping his head out of some window or door. A pretty kettle of fish it would be for me, too, to be caught with them both here, just now! No; they\u2019ll have to be got off tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTonight! How is it possible?\u2014where to?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I know pretty well where to,\u201d said the senator, beginning to put on his boots, with a reflective air; and, stopping when his leg was half in, he embraced his knee with both hands, and seemed to go off in deep meditation.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a confounded awkward, ugly business,\u201d said he, at last, beginning to tug at his boot-straps again, \u201cand that\u2019s a fact!\u201d After one boot was fairly on, the senator sat with the other in his hand, profoundly studying the figure of the carpet. \u201cIt will have to be done, though, for aught I see,\u2014hang it all!\u201d and he drew the other boot anxiously on, and looked out of the window.<\/p>\n

Now, little Mrs. Bird was a discreet woman,\u2014a woman who never in her life said, \u201cI told you so!\u201d and, on the present occasion, though pretty well aware of the shape her husband\u2019s meditations were taking, she very prudently forbore to meddle with them, only sat very quietly in her chair, and looked quite ready to hear her liege lord\u2019s intentions, when he should think proper to utter them.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou see,\u201d he said, \u201cthere\u2019s my old client, Van Trompe, has come over from Kentucky, and set all his slaves free; and he has bought a place seven miles up the creek, here, back in the woods, where nobody goes, unless they go on purpose; and it\u2019s a place that isn\u2019t found in a hurry. There she\u2019d be safe enough; but the plague of the thing is, nobody could drive a carriage there tonight, but\u00a0me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy not? Cudjoe is an excellent driver.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAy, ay, but here it is. The creek has to be crossed twice; and the second crossing is quite dangerous, unless one knows it as I do. I have crossed it a hundred times on horseback, and know exactly the turns to take. And so, you see, there\u2019s no help for it. Cudjoe must put in the horses, as quietly as may be, about twelve o\u2019clock, and I\u2019ll take her over; and then, to give color to the matter, he must carry me on to the next tavern to take the stage for Columbus, that comes by about three or four, and so it will look as if I had had the carriage only for that. I shall get into business bright and early in the morning. But I\u2019m thinking I shall feel rather cheap there, after all that\u2019s been said and done; but, hang it, I can\u2019t help it!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour heart is better than your head, in this case, John,\u201d said the wife, laying her little white hand on his. \u201cCould I ever have loved you, had I not known you better than you know yourself?\u201d And the little woman looked so handsome, with the tears sparkling in her eyes, that the senator thought he must be a decidedly clever fellow, to get such a pretty creature into such a passionate admiration of him; and so, what could he do but walk off soberly, to see about the carriage. At the door, however, he stopped a moment, and then coming back, he said, with some hesitation.<\/p>\n

\u201cMary, I don\u2019t know how you\u2019d feel about it, but there\u2019s that drawer full of things\u2014of\u2014of\u2014poor little Henry\u2019s.\u201d So saying, he turned quickly on his heel, and shut the door after him.<\/p>\n

His wife opened the little bed-room door adjoining her room and, taking the candle, set it down on the top of a bureau there; then from a small recess she took a key, and put it thoughtfully in the lock of a drawer, and made a sudden pause, while two boys, who, boy like, had followed close on her heels, stood looking, with silent, significant glances, at their mother. And oh! mother that reads this, has there never been in your house a drawer, or a closet, the opening of which has been to you like the opening again of a little grave? Ah! happy mother that you are, if it has not been so.<\/p>\n

Mrs. Bird slowly opened the drawer. There were little coats of many a form and pattern, piles of aprons, and rows of small stockings; and even a pair of little shoes, worn and rubbed at the toes, were peeping from the folds of a paper. There was a toy horse and wagon, a top, a ball,\u2014memorials gathered with many a tear and many a heart-break! She sat down by the drawer, and, leaning her head on her hands over it, wept till the tears fell through her fingers into the drawer; then suddenly raising her head, she began, with nervous haste, selecting the plainest and most substantial articles, and gathering them into a bundle.<\/p>\n

\u201cMamma,\u201d said one of the boys, gently touching her arm, \u201cyou going to give away\u00a0those\u00a0things?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy dear boys,\u201d she said, softly and earnestly, \u201cif our dear, loving little Henry looks down from heaven, he would be glad to have us do this. I could not find it in my heart to give them away to any common person\u2014to anybody that was happy; but I give them to a mother more heart-broken and sorrowful than I am; and I hope God will send his blessings with them!\u201d<\/p>\n

There are in this world blessed souls, whose sorrows all spring up into joys for others; whose earthly hopes, laid in the grave with many tears, are the seed from which spring healing flowers and balm for the desolate and the distressed. Among such was the delicate woman who sits there by the lamp, dropping slow tears, while she prepares the memorials of her own lost one for the outcast wanderer.<\/p>\n

After a while, Mrs. Bird opened a wardrobe, and, taking from thence a plain, serviceable dress or two, she sat down busily to her work-table, and, with needle, scissors, and thimble, at hand, quietly commenced the \u201cletting down\u201d process which her husband had recommended, and continued busily at it till the old clock in the corner struck twelve, and she heard the low rattling of wheels at the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cMary,\u201d said her husband, coming in, with his overcoat in his hand, \u201cyou must wake her up now; we must be off.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Bird hastily deposited the various articles she had collected in a small plain trunk, and locking it, desired her husband to see it in the carriage, and then proceeded to call the woman. Soon, arrayed in a cloak, bonnet, and shawl, that had belonged to her benefactress, she appeared at the door with her child in her arms. Mr. Bird hurried her into the carriage, and Mrs. Bird pressed on after her to the carriage steps. Eliza leaned out of the carriage, and put out her hand,\u2014a hand as soft and beautiful as was given in return. She fixed her large, dark eyes, full of earnest meaning, on Mrs. Bird\u2019s face, and seemed going to speak. Her lips moved,\u2014she tried once or twice, but there was no sound,\u2014and pointing upward, with a look never to be forgotten, she fell back in the seat, and covered her face. The door was shut, and the carriage drove on.<\/p>\n

What a situation, now, for a patriotic senator, that had been all the week before spurring up the legislature of his native state to pass more stringent resolutions against escaping fugitives, their harborers and abettors!<\/p>\n

Our good senator in his native state had not been exceeded by any of his brethren at Washington, in the sort of eloquence which has won for them immortal renown! How sublimely he had sat with his hands in his pockets, and scouted all sentimental weakness of those who would put the welfare of a few miserable fugitives before great state interests!<\/p>\n

He was as bold as a lion about it, and \u201cmightily convinced\u201d not only himself, but everybody that heard him;\u2014but then his idea of a fugitive was only an idea of the letters that spell the word,\u2014or at the most, the image of a little newspaper picture of a man with a stick and bundle with \u201cRan away from the subscriber\u201d under it. The magic of the real presence of distress,\u2014the imploring human eye, the frail, trembling human hand, the despairing appeal of helpless agony,\u2014these he had never tried. He had never thought that a fugitive might be a hapless mother, a defenceless child,\u2014like that one which was now wearing his lost boy\u2019s little well-known cap; and so, as our poor senator was not stone or steel,\u2014as he was a man, and a downright noble-hearted one, too,\u2014he was, as everybody must see, in a sad case for his patriotism. And you need not exult over him, good brother of the Southern States; for we have some inklings that many of you, under similar circumstances, would not do much better. We have reason to know, in Kentucky, as in Mississippi, are noble and generous hearts, to whom never was tale of suffering told in vain. Ah, good brother! is it fair for you to expect of us services which your own brave, honorable heart would not allow you to render, were you in our place?<\/p>\n

Be that as it may, if our good senator was a political sinner, he was in a fair way to expiate it by his night\u2019s penance. There had been a long continuous period of rainy weather, and the soft, rich earth of Ohio, as every one knows, is admirably suited to the manufacture of mud\u2014and the road was an Ohio railroad of the good old times.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd pray, what sort of a road may that be?\u201d says some eastern traveller, who has been accustomed to connect no ideas with a railroad, but those of smoothness or speed.<\/p>\n

Know, then, innocent eastern friend, that in benighted regions of the west, where the mud is of unfathomable and sublime depth, roads are made of round rough logs, arranged transversely side by side, and coated over in their pristine freshness with earth, turf, and whatsoever may come to hand, and then the rejoicing native calleth it a road, and straightway essayeth to ride thereupon. In process of time, the rains wash off all the turf and grass aforesaid, move the logs hither and thither, in picturesque positions, up, down and crosswise, with divers chasms and ruts of black mud intervening.<\/p>\n

Over such a road as this our senator went stumbling along, making moral reflections as continuously as under the circumstances could be expected,\u2014the carriage proceeding along much as follows,\u2014bump! bump! bump! slush! down in the mud!\u2014the senator, woman and child, reversing their positions so suddenly as to come, without any very accurate adjustment, against the windows of the down-hill side. Carriage sticks fast, while Cudjoe on the outside is heard making a great muster among the horses. After various ineffectual pullings and twitchings, just as the senator is losing all patience, the carriage suddenly rights itself with a bounce,\u2014two front wheels go down into another abyss, and senator, woman, and child, all tumble promiscuously on to the front seat,\u2014senator\u2019s hat is jammed over his eyes and nose quite unceremoniously, and he considers himself fairly extinguished;\u2014child cries, and Cudjoe on the outside delivers animated addresses to the horses, who are kicking, and floundering, and straining under repeated cracks of the whip. Carriage springs up, with another bounce,\u2014down go the hind wheels,\u2014senator, woman, and child, fly over on to the back seat, his elbows encountering her bonnet, and both her feet being jammed into his hat, which flies off in the concussion. After a few moments the \u201cslough\u201d is passed, and the horses stop, panting;\u2014the senator finds his hat, the woman straightens her bonnet and hushes her child, and they brace themselves for what is yet to come.<\/p>\n

For a while only the continuous bump! bump! intermingled, just by way of variety, with divers side plunges and compound shakes; and they begin to flatter themselves that they are not so badly off, after all. At last, with a square plunge, which puts all on to their feet and then down into their seats with incredible quickness, the carriage stops,\u2014and, after much outside commotion, Cudjoe appears at the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease, sir, it\u2019s powerful bad spot, this\u2019 yer. I don\u2019t know how we\u2019s to get clar out. I\u2019m a thinkin\u2019 we\u2019ll have to be a gettin\u2019 rails.\u201d<\/p>\n

The senator despairingly steps out, picking gingerly for some firm foothold; down goes one foot an immeasurable depth,\u2014he tries to pull it up, loses his balance, and tumbles over into the mud, and is fished out, in a very despairing condition, by Cudjoe.<\/p>\n

But we forbear, out of sympathy to our readers\u2019 bones. Western travellers, who have beguiled the midnight hour in the interesting process of pulling down rail fences, to pry their carriages out of mud holes, will have a respectful and mournful sympathy with our unfortunate hero. We beg them to drop a silent tear, and pass on.<\/p>\n

It was full late in the night when the carriage emerged, dripping and bespattered, out of the creek, and stood at the door of a large farmhouse.<\/p>\n

It took no inconsiderable perseverance to arouse the inmates; but at last the respectable proprietor appeared, and undid the door. He was a great, tall, bristling Orson of a fellow, full six feet and some inches in his stockings, and arrayed in a red flannel hunting-shirt. A very heavy mat of sandy hair, in a decidedly tousled condition, and a beard of some days\u2019 growth, gave the worthy man an appearance, to say the least, not particularly prepossessing. He stood for a few minutes holding the candle aloft, and blinking on our travellers with a dismal and mystified expression that was truly ludicrous. It cost some effort of our senator to induce him to comprehend the case fully; and while he is doing his best at that, we shall give him a little introduction to our readers.<\/p>\n

Honest old John Van Trompe was once quite a considerable land-owner and slave-owner in the State of Kentucky. Having \u201cnothing of the bear about him but the skin,\u201d and being gifted by nature with a great, honest, just heart, quite equal to his gigantic frame, he had been for some years witnessing with repressed uneasiness the workings of a system equally bad for oppressor and oppressed. At last, one day, John\u2019s great heart had swelled altogether too big to wear his bonds any longer; so he just took his pocket-book out of his desk, and went over into Ohio, and bought a quarter of a township of good, rich land, made out free papers for all his people,\u2014men, women, and children,\u2014packed them up in wagons, and sent them off to settle down; and then honest John turned his face up the creek, and sat quietly down on a snug, retired farm, to enjoy his conscience and his reflections.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you the man that will shelter a poor woman and child from slave-catchers?\u201d said the senator, explicitly.<\/p>\n

\u201cI rather think I am,\u201d said honest John, with some considerable emphasis.<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought so,\u201d said the senator.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf there\u2019s anybody comes,\u201d said the good man, stretching his tall, muscular form upward, \u201cwhy here I\u2019m ready for him: and I\u2019ve got seven sons, each six foot high, and they\u2019ll be ready for \u2019em. Give our respects to \u2019em,\u201d said John; \u201ctell \u2019em it\u2019s no matter how soon they call,\u2014make no kinder difference to us,\u201d said John, running his fingers through the shock of hair that thatched his head, and bursting out into a great laugh.<\/p>\n

Weary, jaded, and spiritless, Eliza dragged herself up to the door, with her child lying in a heavy sleep on her arm. The rough man held the candle to her face, and uttering a kind of compassionate grunt, opened the door of a small bed-room adjoining to the large kitchen where they were standing, and motioned her to go in. He took down a candle, and lighting it, set it upon the table, and then addressed himself to Eliza.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow, I say, gal, you needn\u2019t be a bit afeard, let who will come here. I\u2019m up to all that sort o\u2019 thing,\u201d said he, pointing to two or three goodly rifles over the mantel-piece; \u201cand most people that know me know that \u2019t wouldn\u2019t be healthy to try to get anybody out o\u2019 my house when I\u2019m agin it. So\u00a0now\u00a0you jist go to sleep now, as quiet as if yer mother was a rockin\u2019 ye,\u201d said he, as he shut the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, this is an uncommon handsome un,\u201d he said to the senator. \u201cAh, well; handsome uns has the greatest cause to run, sometimes, if they has any kind o\u2019 feelin, such as decent women should. I know all about that.\u201d<\/p>\n

The senator, in a few words, briefly explained Eliza\u2019s history.<\/p>\n

\u201cO! ou! aw! now, I want to know?\u201d said the good man, pitifully; \u201csho! now sho! That\u2019s natur now, poor crittur! hunted down now like a deer,\u2014hunted down, jest for havin\u2019 natural feelin\u2019s, and doin\u2019 what no kind o\u2019 mother could help a doin\u2019! I tell ye what, these yer things make me come the nighest to swearin\u2019, now, o\u2019 most anything,\u201d said honest John, as he wiped his eyes with the back of a great, freckled, yellow hand. \u201cI tell yer what, stranger, it was years and years before I\u2019d jine the church, \u2019cause the ministers round in our parts used to preach that the Bible went in for these ere cuttings up,\u2014and I couldn\u2019t be up to \u2019em with their Greek and Hebrew, and so I took up agin \u2019em, Bible and all. I never jined the church till I found a minister that was up to \u2019em all in Greek and all that, and he said right the contrary; and then I took right hold, and jined the church,\u2014I did now, fact,\u201d said John, who had been all this time uncorking some very frisky bottled cider, which at this juncture he presented.<\/p>\n

\u201cYe\u2019d better jest put up here, now, till daylight,\u201d said he, heartily, \u201cand I\u2019ll call up the old woman, and have a bed got ready for you in no time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, my good friend,\u201d said the senator, \u201cI must be along, to take the night stage for Columbus.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAh! well, then, if you must, I\u2019ll go a piece with you, and show you a cross road that will take you there better than the road you came on. That road\u2019s mighty bad.\u201d<\/p>\n

John equipped himself, and, with a lantern in hand, was soon seen guiding the senator\u2019s carriage towards a road that ran down in a hollow, back of his dwelling. When they parted, the senator put into his hand a ten-dollar bill.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s for her,\u201d he said, briefly.<\/p>\n

\u201cAy, ay,\u201d said John, with equal conciseness.<\/p>\n

They shook hands, and parted.<\/p>\n

[Click 4 to go to next chapter]<\/em><\/p>\n

\n

Chapter 10 relates the sad departing of Uncle Tom, as he is separated from his wife and children to be sold “down river” by Haley. After Chapter 11 develops the character of George Harris, Eliza’s husband, we pick up Tom and Haley’s journey down river in Chapter 12, “select incident of lawful trade. The chapter draws upon Stowe’s experience witnessing a slave auction in Kentucky and highlights the cruel separation of mothers from their children that lies at the heart of the novel.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

CHAPTER XII<\/h6>\n

Select Incident of Lawful Trade<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cIn Ramah there was a voice heard,\u2014weeping, and lamentation, and great mourning; Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be comforted.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jeremiah 31:15.<\/p>\n

Mr. Haley and Tom jogged onward in their wagon, each, for a time, absorbed in his own reflections. Now, the reflections of two men sitting side by side are a curious thing,\u2014seated on the same seat, having the same eyes, ears, hands and organs of all sorts, and having pass before their eyes the same objects,\u2014it is wonderful what a variety we shall find in these same reflections!<\/p>\n

As, for example, Mr. Haley: he thought first of Tom\u2019s length, and breadth, and height, and what he would sell for, if he was kept fat and in good case till he got him into market. He thought of how he should make out his gang; he thought of the respective market value of certain supposititious men and women and children who were to compose it, and other kindred topics of the business; then he thought of himself, and how humane he was, that whereas other men chained their \u201cniggers\u201d hand and foot both, he only put fetters on the feet, and left Tom the use of his hands, as long as he behaved well; and he sighed to think how ungrateful human nature was, so that there was even room to doubt whether Tom appreciated his mercies. He had been taken in so by \u201cniggers\u201d whom he had favored; but still he was astonished to consider how good-natured he yet remained!<\/p>\n

As to Tom, he was thinking over some words of an unfashionable old book, which kept running through his head, again and again, as follows: \u201cWe have here no continuing city, but we seek one to come; wherefore God himself is not ashamed to be called our God; for he hath prepared for us a city.\u201d These words of an ancient volume, got up principally by \u201cignorant and unlearned men,\u201d have, through all time, kept up, somehow, a strange sort of power over the minds of poor, simple fellows, like Tom. They stir up the soul from its depths, and rouse, as with trumpet call, courage, energy, and enthusiasm, where before was only the blackness of despair.<\/p>\n

Mr. Haley pulled out of his pocket sundry newspapers, and began looking over their advertisements, with absorbed interest. He was not a remarkably fluent reader, and was in the habit of reading in a sort of recitative half-aloud, by way of calling in his ears to verify the deductions of his eyes. In this tone he slowly recited the following paragraph:<\/p>\n

\u201cEXECUTOR\u2019S\u00a0SALE,\u2014NEGROES!\u2014Agreeably to order of court, will be sold, on Tuesday, February 20, before the Court-house door, in the town of Washington, Kentucky, the following negroes: Hagar, aged 60; John, aged 30; Ben, aged 21; Saul, aged 25; Albert, aged 14. Sold for the benefit of the creditors and heirs of the estate of Jesse Blutchford, Esq.<\/p>\n

\u201cSAMUEL\u00a0MORRIS,
\nTHOMAS\u00a0FLINT,
\nExecutors.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis yer I must look at,\u201d said he to Tom, for want of somebody else to talk to.<\/p>\n

\u201cYe see, I\u2019m going to get up a prime gang to take down with ye, Tom; it\u2019ll make it sociable and pleasant like,\u2014good company will, ye know. We must drive right to Washington first and foremost, and then I\u2019ll clap you into jail, while I does the business.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tom received this agreeable intelligence quite meekly; simply wondering, in his own heart, how many of these doomed men had wives and children, and whether they would feel as he did about leaving them. It is to be confessed, too, that the naive, off-hand information that he was to be thrown into jail by no means produced an agreeable impression on a poor fellow who had always prided himself on a strictly honest and upright course of life. Yes, Tom, we must confess it, was rather proud of his honesty, poor fellow,\u2014not having very much else to be proud of;\u2014if he had belonged to some of the higher walks of society, he, perhaps, would never have been reduced to such straits. However, the day wore on, and the evening saw Haley and Tom comfortably accommodated in Washington,\u2014the one in a tavern, and the other in a jail.<\/p>\n

About eleven o\u2019clock the next day, a mixed throng was gathered around the court-house steps,\u2014smoking, chewing, spitting, swearing, and conversing, according to their respective tastes and turns,\u2014waiting for the auction to commence. The men and women to be sold sat in a group apart, talking in a low tone to each other. The woman who had been advertised by the name of Hagar was a regular African in feature and figure. She might have been sixty, but was older than that by hard work and disease, was partially blind, and somewhat crippled with rheumatism. By her side stood her only remaining son, Albert, a bright-looking little fellow of fourteen years. The boy was the only survivor of a large family, who had been successively sold away from her to a southern market. The mother held on to him with both her shaking hands, and eyed with intense trepidation every one who walked up to examine him.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t be feard, Aunt Hagar,\u201d said the oldest of the men, \u201cI spoke to Mas\u2019r Thomas \u2019bout it, and he thought he might manage to sell you in a lot both together.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDey needn\u2019t call me worn out yet,\u201d said she, lifting her shaking hands. \u201cI can cook yet, and scrub, and scour,\u2014I\u2019m wuth a buying, if I do come cheap;\u2014tell \u2019em dat ar,\u2014you\u00a0tell\u00a0\u2019em,\u201d she added, earnestly.<\/p>\n

Haley here forced his way into the group, walked up to the old man, pulled his mouth open and looked in, felt of his teeth, made him stand and straighten himself, bend his back, and perform various evolutions to show his muscles; and then passed on to the next, and put him through the same trial. Walking up last to the boy, he felt of his arms, straightened his hands, and looked at his fingers, and made him jump, to show his agility.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe an\u2019t gwine to be sold widout me!\u201d said the old woman, with passionate eagerness; \u201che and I goes in a lot together; I \u2019s rail strong yet, Mas\u2019r and can do heaps o\u2019 work,\u2014heaps on it, Mas\u2019r.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOn plantation?\u201d said Haley, with a contemptuous glance. \u201cLikely story!\u201d and, as if satisfied with his examination, he walked out and looked, and stood with his hands in his pocket, his cigar in his mouth, and his hat cocked on one side, ready for action.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat think of \u2019em?\u201d said a man who had been following Haley\u2019s examination, as if to make up his own mind from it.<\/p>\n

\u201cWal,\u201d said Haley, spitting, \u201cI shall put in, I think, for the youngerly ones and the boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey want to sell the boy and the old woman together,\u201d said the man.<\/p>\n

\u201cFind it a tight pull;\u2014why, she\u2019s an old rack o\u2019 bones,\u2014not worth her salt.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou wouldn\u2019t then?\u201d said the man.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnybody \u2019d be a fool \u2019t would. She\u2019s half blind, crooked with rheumatis, and foolish to boot.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSome buys up these yer old critturs, and ses there\u2019s a sight more wear in \u2019em than a body \u2019d think,\u201d said the man, reflectively.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo go, \u2019t all,\u201d said Haley; \u201cwouldn\u2019t take her for a present,\u2014fact,\u2014I\u2019ve\u00a0seen, now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWal, \u2019t is kinder pity, now, not to buy her with her son,\u2014her heart seems so sot on him,\u2014s\u2019pose they fling her in cheap.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThem that\u2019s got money to spend that ar way, it\u2019s all well enough. I shall bid off on that ar boy for a plantation-hand;\u2014wouldn\u2019t be bothered with her, no way, not if they\u2019d give her to me,\u201d said Haley.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019ll take on desp\u2019t,\u201d said the man.<\/p>\n

\u201cNat\u2019lly, she will,\u201d said the trader, coolly.<\/p>\n

The conversation was here interrupted by a busy hum in the audience; and the auctioneer, a short, bustling, important fellow, elbowed his way into the crowd. The old woman drew in her breath, and caught instinctively at her son.<\/p>\n

\u201cKeep close to yer mammy, Albert,\u2014close,\u2014dey\u2019ll put us up togedder,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cO, mammy, I\u2019m feard they won\u2019t,\u201d said the boy.<\/p>\n

\u201cDey must, child; I can\u2019t live, no ways, if they don\u2019t\u201d said the old creature, vehemently.<\/p>\n

The stentorian tones of the auctioneer, calling out to clear the way, now announced that the sale was about to commence. A place was cleared, and the bidding began. The different men on the list were soon knocked off at prices which showed a pretty brisk demand in the market; two of them fell to Haley.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome, now, young un,\u201d said the auctioneer, giving the boy a touch with his hammer, \u201cbe up and show your springs, now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPut us two up togedder, togedder,\u2014do please, Mas\u2019r,\u201d said the old woman, holding fast to her boy.<\/p>\n

\u201cBe off,\u201d said the man, gruffly, pushing her hands away; \u201cyou come last. Now, darkey, spring;\u201d and, with the word, he pushed the boy toward the block, while a deep, heavy groan rose behind him. The boy paused, and looked back; but there was no time to stay, and, dashing the tears from his large, bright eyes, he was up in a moment.<\/p>\n

His fine figure, alert limbs, and bright face, raised an instant competition, and half a dozen bids simultaneously met the ear of the auctioneer. Anxious, half-frightened, he looked from side to side, as he heard the clatter of contending bids,\u2014now here, now there,\u2014till the hammer fell. Haley had got him. He was pushed from the block toward his new master, but stopped one moment, and looked back, when his poor old mother, trembling in every limb, held out her shaking hands toward him.<\/p>\n

\u201cBuy me too, Mas\u2019r, for de dear Lord\u2019s sake!\u2014buy me,\u2014I shall die if you don\u2019t!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll die if I do, that\u2019s the kink of it,\u201d said Haley,\u2014\u201cno!\u201d And he turned on his heel.<\/p>\n

The bidding for the poor old creature was summary. The man who had addressed Haley, and who seemed not destitute of compassion, bought her for a trifle, and the spectators began to disperse.<\/p>\n

The poor victims of the sale, who had been brought up in one place together for years, gathered round the despairing old mother, whose agony was pitiful to see.<\/p>\n

\u201cCouldn\u2019t dey leave me one? Mas\u2019r allers said I should have one,\u2014he did,\u201d she repeated over and over, in heart-broken tones.<\/p>\n

\u201cTrust in the Lord, Aunt Hagar,\u201d said the oldest of the men, sorrowfully.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat good will it do?\u201d said she, sobbing passionately.<\/p>\n

\u201cMother, mother,\u2014don\u2019t! don\u2019t!\u201d said the boy. \u201cThey say you \u2019s got a good master.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t care,\u2014I don\u2019t care. O, Albert! oh, my boy! you \u2019s my last baby. Lord, how ken I?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome, take her off, can\u2019t some of ye?\u201d said Haley, dryly; \u201cdon\u2019t do no good for her to go on that ar way.\u201d<\/p>\n

The old men of the company, partly by persuasion and partly by force, loosed the poor creature\u2019s last despairing hold, and, as they led her off to her new master\u2019s wagon, strove to comfort her.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow!\u201d said Haley, pushing his three purchases together, and producing a bundle of handcuffs, which he proceeded to put on their wrists; and fastening each handcuff to a long chain, he drove them before him to the jail.<\/p>\n

A few days saw Haley, with his possessions, safely deposited on one of the Ohio boats. It was the commencement of his gang, to be augmented, as the boat moved on, by various other merchandise of the same kind, which he, or his agent, had stored for him in various points along shore.<\/p>\n

The La Belle Riviere, as brave and beautiful a boat as ever walked the waters of her namesake river, was floating gayly down the stream, under a brilliant sky, the stripes and stars of free America waving and fluttering over head; the guards crowded with well-dressed ladies and gentlemen walking and enjoying the delightful day. All was full of life, buoyant and rejoicing;\u2014all but Haley\u2019s gang, who were stored, with other freight, on the lower deck, and who, somehow, did not seem to appreciate their various privileges, as they sat in a knot, talking to each other in low tones.<\/p>\n

\u201cBoys,\u201d said Haley, coming up, briskly, \u201cI hope you keep up good heart, and are cheerful. Now, no sulks, ye see; keep stiff upper lip, boys; do well by me, and I\u2019ll do well by you.\u201d<\/p>\n

The boys addressed responded the invariable \u201cYes, Mas\u2019r,\u201d for ages the watchword of poor Africa; but it\u2019s to be owned they did not look particularly cheerful; they had their various little prejudices in favor of wives, mothers, sisters, and children, seen for the last time,\u2014and though \u201cthey that wasted them required of them mirth,\u201d it was not instantly forthcoming.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve got a wife,\u201d spoke out the article enumerated as \u201cJohn, aged thirty,\u201d and he laid his chained hand on Tom\u2019s knee,\u2014\u201cand she don\u2019t know a word about this, poor girl!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere does she live?\u201d said Tom.<\/p>\n

\u201cIn a tavern a piece down here,\u201d said John; \u201cI wish, now, I\u00a0could\u00a0see her once more in this world,\u201d he added.<\/p>\n

Poor John! It\u00a0was\u00a0rather natural; and the tears that fell, as he spoke, came as naturally as if he had been a white man. Tom drew a long breath from a sore heart, and tried, in his poor way, to comfort him.<\/p>\n

And over head, in the cabin, sat fathers and mothers, husbands and wives; and merry, dancing children moved round among them, like so many little butterflies, and everything was going on quite easy and comfortable.<\/p>\n

\u201cO, mamma,\u201d said a boy, who had just come up from below, \u201cthere\u2019s a negro trader on board, and he\u2019s brought four or five slaves down there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPoor creatures!\u201d said the mother, in a tone between grief and indignation.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d said another lady.<\/p>\n

\u201cSome poor slaves below,\u201d said the mother.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd they\u2019ve got chains on,\u201d said the boy.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat a shame to our country that such sights are to be seen!\u201d said another lady.<\/p>\n

\u201cO, there\u2019s a great deal to be said on both sides of the subject,\u201d said a genteel woman, who sat at her state-room door sewing, while her little girl and boy were playing round her. \u201cI\u2019ve been south, and I must say I think the negroes are better off than they would be to be free.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn some respects, some of them are well off, I grant,\u201d said the lady to whose remark she had answered. \u201cThe most dreadful part of slavery, to my mind, is its outrages on the feelings and affections,\u2014the separating of families, for example.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u00a0is\u00a0a bad thing, certainly,\u201d said the other lady, holding up a baby\u2019s dress she had just completed, and looking intently on its trimmings; \u201cbut then, I fancy, it don\u2019t occur often.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cO, it does,\u201d said the first lady, eagerly; \u201cI\u2019ve lived many years in Kentucky and Virginia both, and I\u2019ve seen enough to make any one\u2019s heart sick. Suppose, ma\u2019am, your two children, there, should be taken from you, and sold?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe can\u2019t reason from our feelings to those of this class of persons,\u201d said the other lady, sorting out some worsteds on her lap.<\/p>\n

\u201cIndeed, ma\u2019am, you can know nothing of them, if you say so,\u201d answered the first lady, warmly. \u201cI was born and brought up among them. I know they\u00a0do\u00a0feel, just as keenly,\u2014even more so, perhaps,\u2014as we do.\u201d<\/p>\n

The lady said \u201cIndeed!\u201d yawned, and looked out the cabin window, and finally repeated, for a finale, the remark with which she had begun,\u2014\u201cAfter all, I think they are better off than they would be to be free.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s undoubtedly the intention of Providence that the African race should be servants,\u2014kept in a low condition,\u201d said a grave-looking gentleman in black, a clergyman, seated by the cabin door. \u201c\u2018Cursed be Canaan; a servant of servants shall he be,\u2019 the scripture says.\u201d[1]<\/p>\n

[1]\u00a0Gen. 9:25. his is what Noah says when he wakes out of drunkenness and realizes that his youngest son, Ham, father of Canaan, has seen him naked.<\/pre>\n
\u201cI say, stranger, is that ar what that text means?\u201d said a tall man, standing by.<\/p>\n
\u201cUndoubtedly. It pleased Providence, for some inscrutable reason, to doom the race to bondage, ages ago; and we must not set up our opinion against that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, then, we\u2019ll all go ahead and buy up niggers,\u201d said the man, \u201cif that\u2019s the way of Providence,\u2014won\u2019t we, Squire?\u201d said he, turning to Haley, who had been standing, with his hands in his pockets, by the stove and intently listening to the conversation.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d continued the tall man, \u201cwe must all be resigned to the decrees of Providence. Niggers must be sold, and trucked round, and kept under; it\u2019s what they\u2019s made for. \u2019Pears like this yer view \u2019s quite refreshing, an\u2019t it, stranger?\u201d said he to Haley.<\/p>\n
\u201cI never thought on \u2019t,\u201d said Haley, \u201cI couldn\u2019t have said as much, myself; I ha\u2019nt no larning. I took up the trade just to make a living; if \u2019tan\u2019t right, I calculated to \u2019pent on \u2019t in time, ye know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd now you\u2019ll save yerself the trouble, won\u2019t ye?\u201d said the tall man. \u201cSee what \u2019t is, now, to know scripture. If ye\u2019d only studied yer Bible, like this yer good man, ye might have know\u2019d it before, and saved ye a heap o\u2019 trouble. Ye could jist have said, \u2018Cussed be\u2019\u2014what\u2019s his name?\u2014\u2018and \u2019t would all have come right.\u2019\u201d And the stranger, who was no other than the honest drover whom we introduced to our readers in the Kentucky tavern, sat down, and began smoking, with a curious smile on his long, dry face.<\/p>\n
A tall, slender young man, with a face expressive of great feeling and intelligence, here broke in, and repeated the words, \u201c\u2018All things whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them.\u2019 I suppose,\u201d he added, \u201cthat\u00a0is scripture, as much as \u2018Cursed be Canaan.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWal, it seems quite\u00a0as\u00a0plain a text, stranger,\u201d said John the drover, \u201cto poor fellows like us, now;\u201d and John smoked on like a volcano.<\/p>\n
The young man paused, looked as if he was going to say more, when suddenly the boat stopped, and the company made the usual steamboat rush, to see where they were landing.<\/p>\n
\u201cBoth them ar chaps parsons?\u201d said John to one of the men, as they were going out.<\/p>\n
The man nodded.<\/p>\n
As the boat stopped, a black woman came running wildly up the plank, darted into the crowd, flew up to where the slave gang sat, and threw her arms round that unfortunate piece of merchandise before enumerate\u2014\u201cJohn, aged thirty,\u201d and with sobs and tears bemoaned him as her husband.<\/p>\n
But what needs tell the story, told too oft,\u2014every day told,\u2014of heart-strings rent and broken,\u2014the weak broken and torn for the profit and convenience of the strong! It needs not to be told;\u2014every day is telling it,\u2014telling it, too, in the ear of One who is not deaf, though he be long silent.<\/p>\n
The young man who had spoken for the cause of humanity and God before stood with folded arms, looking on this scene. He turned, and Haley was standing at his side. \u201cMy friend,\u201d he said, speaking with thick utterance, \u201chow can you, how dare you, carry on a trade like this? Look at those poor creatures! Here I am, rejoicing in my heart that I am going home to my wife and child; and the same bell which is a signal to carry me onward towards them will part this poor man and his wife forever. Depend upon it, God will bring you into judgment for this.\u201d<\/p>\n
The trader turned away in silence.<\/p>\n
\u201cI say, now,\u201d said the drover, touching his elbow, \u201cthere\u2019s differences in parsons, an\u2019t there? \u2018Cussed be Canaan\u2019 don\u2019t seem to go down with this \u2019un, does it?\u201d<\/p>\n
Haley gave an uneasy growl.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd that ar an\u2019t the worst on \u2019t,\u201d said John; \u201cmabbee it won\u2019t go down with the Lord, neither, when ye come to settle with Him, one o\u2019 these days, as all on us must, I reckon.\u201d<\/p>\n
Haley walked reflectively to the other end of the boat.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf I make pretty handsomely on one or two next gangs,\u201d he thought, \u201cI reckon I\u2019ll stop off this yer; it\u2019s really getting dangerous.\u201d And he took out his pocket-book, and began adding over his accounts,\u2014a process which many gentlemen besides Mr. Haley have found a specific for an uneasy conscience.<\/p>\n
The boat swept proudly away from the shore, and all went on merrily, as before. Men talked, and loafed, and read, and smoked. Women sewed, and children played, and the boat passed on her way.<\/p>\n
One day, when she lay to for a while at a small town in Kentucky, Haley went up into the place on a little matter of business.<\/p>\n
Tom, whose fetters did not prevent his taking a moderate circuit, had drawn near the side of the boat, and stood listlessly gazing over the railing. After a time, he saw the trader returning, with an alert step, in company with a colored woman, bearing in her arms a young child. She was dressed quite respectably, and a colored man followed her, bringing along a small trunk. The woman came cheerfully onward, talking, as she came, with the man who bore her trunk, and so passed up the plank into the boat. The bell rung, the steamer whizzed, the engine groaned and coughed, and away swept the boat down the river.<\/p>\n
The woman walked forward among the boxes and bales of the lower deck, and, sitting down, busied herself with chirruping to her baby.<\/p>\n
Haley made a turn or two about the boat, and then, coming up, seated himself near her, and began saying something to her in an indifferent undertone.<\/p>\n
Tom soon noticed a heavy cloud passing over the woman\u2019s brow; and that she answered rapidly, and with great vehemence.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t believe it,\u2014I won\u2019t believe it!\u201d he heard her say. \u201cYou\u2019re jist a foolin\u2019 with me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you won\u2019t believe it, look here!\u201d said the man, drawing out a paper; \u201cthis yer\u2019s the bill of sale, and there\u2019s your master\u2019s name to it; and I paid down good solid cash for it, too, I can tell you,\u2014so, now!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t believe Mas\u2019r would cheat me so; it can\u2019t be true!\u201d said the woman, with increasing agitation.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can ask any of these men here, that can read writing. Here!\u201d he said, to a man that was passing by, \u201cjist read this yer, won\u2019t you! This yer gal won\u2019t believe me, when I tell her what \u2019t is.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy, it\u2019s a bill of sale, signed by John Fosdick,\u201d said the man, \u201cmaking over to you the girl Lucy and her child. It\u2019s all straight enough, for aught I see.\u201d<\/p>\n
The woman\u2019s passionate exclamations collected a crowd around her, and the trader briefly explained to them the cause of the agitation.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe told me that I was going down to Louisville, to hire out as cook to the same tavern where my husband works,\u2014that\u2019s what Mas\u2019r told me, his own self; and I can\u2019t believe he\u2019d lie to me,\u201d said the woman.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut he has sold you, my poor woman, there\u2019s no doubt about it,\u201d said a good-natured looking man, who had been examining the papers; \u201che has done it, and no mistake.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen it\u2019s no account talking,\u201d said the woman, suddenly growing quite calm; and, clasping her child tighter in her arms, she sat down on her box, turned her back round, and gazed listlessly into the river.<\/p>\n
\u201cGoing to take it easy, after all!\u201d said the trader. \u201cGal\u2019s got grit, I see.\u201d<\/p>\n
The woman looked calm, as the boat went on; and a beautiful soft summer breeze passed like a compassionate spirit over her head,\u2014the gentle breeze, that never inquires whether the brow is dusky or fair that it fans. And she saw sunshine sparkling on the water, in golden ripples, and heard gay voices, full of ease and pleasure, talking around her everywhere; but her heart lay as if a great stone had fallen on it. Her baby raised himself up against her, and stroked her cheeks with his little hands; and, springing up and down, crowing and chatting, seemed determined to arouse her. She strained him suddenly and tightly in her arms, and slowly one tear after another fell on his wondering, unconscious face; and gradually she seemed, and little by little, to grow calmer, and busied herself with tending and nursing him.<\/p>\n
The child, a boy of ten months, was uncommonly large and strong of his age, and very vigorous in his limbs. Never, for a moment, still, he kept his mother constantly busy in holding him, and guarding his springing activity.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s a fine chap!\u201d said a man, suddenly stopping opposite to him, with his hands in his pockets. \u201cHow old is he?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTen months and a half,\u201d said the mother.<\/p>\n
The man whistled to the boy, and offered him part of a stick of candy, which he eagerly grabbed at, and very soon had it in a baby\u2019s general depository, to wit, his mouth.<\/p>\n
\u201cRum fellow!\u201d said the man \u201cKnows what\u2019s what!\u201d and he whistled, and walked on. When he had got to the other side of the boat, he came across Haley, who was smoking on top of a pile of boxes.<\/p>\n
The stranger produced a match, and lighted a cigar, saying, as he did so,<\/p>\n
\u201cDecentish kind o\u2019 wench you\u2019ve got round there, stranger.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy, I reckon she\u00a0is\u00a0tol\u2019able fair,\u201d said Haley, blowing the smoke out of his mouth.<\/p>\n
\u201cTaking her down south?\u201d said the man.<\/p>\n
Haley nodded, and smoked on.<\/p>\n
\u201cPlantation hand?\u201d said the man.<\/p>\n
\u201cWal,\u201d said Haley, \u201cI\u2019m fillin\u2019 out an order for a plantation, and I think I shall put her in. They telled me she was a good cook; and they can use her for that, or set her at the cotton-picking. She\u2019s got the right fingers for that; I looked at \u2019em. Sell well, either way;\u201d and Haley resumed his cigar.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey won\u2019t want the young \u2019un on the plantation,\u201d said the man.<\/p>\n
\u201cI shall sell him, first chance I find,\u201d said Haley, lighting another cigar.<\/p>\n
\u201cS\u2019pose you\u2019d be selling him tol\u2019able cheap,\u201d said the stranger, mounting the pile of boxes, and sitting down comfortably.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t know \u2019bout that,\u201d said Haley; \u201che\u2019s a pretty smart young \u2019un, straight, fat, strong; flesh as hard as a brick!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cVery true, but then there\u2019s the bother and expense of raisin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNonsense!\u201d said Haley; \u201cthey is raised as easy as any kind of critter there is going; they an\u2019t a bit more trouble than pups. This yer chap will be running all around, in a month.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve got a good place for raisin\u2019, and I thought of takin\u2019 in a little more stock,\u201d said the man. \u201cOne cook lost a young \u2019un last week,\u2014got drownded in a washtub, while she was a hangin\u2019 out the clothes,\u2014and I reckon it would be well enough to set her to raisin\u2019 this yer.\u201d<\/p>\n
Haley and the stranger smoked a while in silence, neither seeming willing to broach the test question of the interview. At last the man resumed:<\/p>\n
\u201cYou wouldn\u2019t think of wantin\u2019 more than ten dollars for that ar chap, seeing you\u00a0must\u00a0get him off yer hand, any how?\u201d<\/p>\n
Haley shook his head, and spit impressively.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat won\u2019t do, no ways,\u201d he said, and began his smoking again.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, stranger, what will you take?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, now,\u201d said Haley, \u201cI\u00a0could\u00a0raise that ar chap myself, or get him raised; he\u2019s oncommon likely and healthy, and he\u2019d fetch a hundred dollars, six months hence; and, in a year or two, he\u2019d bring two hundred, if I had him in the right spot; I shan\u2019t take a cent less nor fifty for him now.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cO, stranger! that\u2019s ridiculous, altogether,\u201d said the man.<\/p>\n
\u201cFact!\u201d said Haley, with a decisive nod of his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll give thirty for him,\u201d said the stranger, \u201cbut not a cent more.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNow, I\u2019ll tell ye what I will do,\u201d said Haley, spitting again, with renewed decision. \u201cI\u2019ll split the difference, and say forty-five; and that\u2019s the most I will do.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, agreed!\u201d said the man, after an interval.<\/p>\n
\u201cDone!\u201d said Haley. \u201cWhere do you land?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAt Louisville,\u201d said the man.<\/p>\n
\u201cLouisville,\u201d said Haley. \u201cVery fair, we get there about dusk. Chap will be asleep,\u2014all fair,\u2014get him off quietly, and no screaming,\u2014happens beautiful,\u2014I like to do everything quietly,\u2014I hates all kind of agitation and fluster.\u201d And so, after a transfer of certain bills had passed from the man\u2019s pocket-book to the trader\u2019s, he resumed his cigar.<\/p>\n
It was a bright, tranquil evening when the boat stopped at the wharf at Louisville. The woman had been sitting with her baby in her arms, now wrapped in a heavy sleep. When she heard the name of the place called out, she hastily laid the child down in a little cradle formed by the hollow among the boxes, first carefully spreading under it her cloak; and then she sprung to the side of the boat, in hopes that, among the various hotel-waiters who thronged the wharf, she might see her husband. In this hope, she pressed forward to the front rails, and, stretching far over them, strained her eyes intently on the moving heads on the shore, and the crowd pressed in between her and the child.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow\u2019s your time,\u201d said Haley, taking the sleeping child up, and handing him to the stranger. \u201cDon\u2019t wake him up, and set him to crying, now; it would make a devil of a fuss with the gal.\u201d The man took the bundle carefully, and was soon lost in the crowd that went up the wharf.<\/p>\n
When the boat, creaking, and groaning, and puffing, had loosed from the wharf, and was beginning slowly to strain herself along, the woman returned to her old seat. The trader was sitting there,\u2014the child was gone!<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy, why,\u2014where?\u201d she began, in bewildered surprise.<\/p>\n
\u201cLucy,\u201d said the trader, \u201cyour child\u2019s gone; you may as well know it first as last. You see, I know\u2019d you couldn\u2019t take him down south; and I got a chance to sell him to a first-rate family, that\u2019ll raise him better than you can.\u201d<\/p>\n
The trader had arrived at that stage of Christian and political perfection which has been recommended by some preachers and politicians of the north, lately, in which he had completely overcome every humane weakness and prejudice. His heart was exactly where yours, sir, and mine could be brought, with proper effort and cultivation. The wild look of anguish and utter despair that the woman cast on him might have disturbed one less practised; but he was used to it. He had seen that same look hundreds of times. You can get used to such things, too, my friend; and it is the great object of recent efforts to make our whole northern community used to them, for the glory of the Union. So the trader only regarded the mortal anguish which he saw working in those dark features, those clenched hands, and suffocating breathings, as necessary incidents of the trade, and merely calculated whether she was going to scream, and get up a commotion on the boat; for, like other supporters of our peculiar institution, he decidedly disliked agitation.<\/p>\n
But the woman did not scream. The shot had passed too straight and direct through the heart, for cry or tear.<\/p>\n
Dizzily she sat down. Her slack hands fell lifeless by her side. Her eyes looked straight forward, but she saw nothing. All the noise and hum of the boat, the groaning of the machinery, mingled dreamily to her bewildered ear; and the poor, dumb-stricken heart had neither cry not tear to show for its utter misery. She was quite calm.<\/p>\n
The trader, who, considering his advantages, was almost as humane as some of our politicians, seemed to feel called on to administer such consolation as the case admitted of.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know this yer comes kinder hard, at first, Lucy,\u201d said he; \u201cbut such a smart, sensible gal as you are, won\u2019t give way to it. You see it\u2019s\u00a0necessary, and can\u2019t be helped!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cO! don\u2019t, Mas\u2019r, don\u2019t!\u201d said the woman, with a voice like one that is smothering.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re a smart wench, Lucy,\u201d he persisted; \u201cI mean to do well by ye, and get ye a nice place down river; and you\u2019ll soon get another husband,\u2014such a likely gal as you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cO! Mas\u2019r, if you\u00a0only\u00a0won\u2019t talk to me now,\u201d said the woman, in a voice of such quick and living anguish that the trader felt that there was something at present in the case beyond his style of operation. He got up, and the woman turned away, and buried her head in her cloak.<\/p>\n
The trader walked up and down for a time, and occasionally stopped and looked at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cTakes it hard, rather,\u201d he soliloquized, \u201cbut quiet, tho\u2019;\u2014let her sweat a while; she\u2019ll come right, by and by!\u201d<\/p>\n
Tom had watched the whole transaction from first to last, and had a perfect understanding of its results. To him, it looked like something unutterably horrible and cruel, because, poor, ignorant black soul! he had not learned to generalize, and to take enlarged views. If he had only been instructed by certain ministers of Christianity, he might have thought better of it, and seen in it an every-day incident of a lawful trade; a trade which is the vital support of an institution which an American divine[2]\u00a0tells us has\u00a0\u201cno evils but such as are inseparable from any other relations in social and domestic life.\u201d But Tom, as we see, being a poor, ignorant fellow, whose reading had been confined entirely to the New Testament, could not comfort and solace himself with views like these. His very soul bled within him for what seemed to him the\u00a0wrongs\u00a0of the poor suffering thing that lay like a crushed reed on the boxes; the feeling, living, bleeding, yet immortal\u00a0thing, which American state law coolly classes with the bundles, and bales, and boxes, among which she is lying.<\/p>\n
[2]\u00a0Dr. Joel Parker of Philadelphia. [Mrs. Stowe\u2019s note.] Presbyterian clergyman (1798-1873), a friend of the Beecher family. Mrs. Stowe attempted unsuccessfully to have this identifying note removed from the stereotype-plate of the first edition.<\/pre>\n
Tom drew near, and tried to say something; but she only groaned. Honestly, and with tears running down his own cheeks, he spoke of a heart of love in the skies, of a pitying Jesus, and an eternal home; but the ear was deaf with anguish, and the palsied heart could not feel.<\/p>\n
Night came on,\u2014night calm, unmoved, and glorious, shining down with her innumerable and solemn angel eyes, twinkling, beautiful, but silent. There was no speech nor language, no pitying voice or helping hand, from that distant sky. One after another, the voices of business or pleasure died away; all on the boat were sleeping, and the ripples at the prow were plainly heard. Tom stretched himself out on a box, and there, as he lay, he heard, ever and anon, a smothered sob or cry from the prostrate creature,\u2014\u201cO! what shall I do? O Lord! O good Lord, do help me!\u201d and so, ever and anon, until the murmur died away in silence.<\/p>\n
At midnight, Tom waked, with a sudden start. Something black passed quickly by him to the side of the boat, and he heard a splash in the water. No one else saw or heard anything. He raised his head,\u2014the woman\u2019s place was vacant! He got up, and sought about him in vain. The poor bleeding heart was still, at last, and the river rippled and dimpled just as brightly as if it had not closed above it.<\/p>\n
Patience! patience! ye whose hearts swell indignant at wrongs like these. Not one throb of anguish, not one tear of the oppressed, is forgotten by the Man of Sorrows, the Lord of Glory. In his patient, generous bosom he bears the anguish of a world. Bear thou, like him, in patience, and labor in love; for sure as he is God, \u201cthe year of his redeemed\u00a0shall\u00a0come.\u201d<\/p>\n
The trader waked up bright and early, and came out to see to his live stock. It was now his turn to look about in perplexity.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere alive is that gal?\u201d he said to Tom.<\/p>\n
Tom, who had learned the wisdom of keeping counsel, did not feel called upon to state his observations and suspicions, but said he did not know.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe surely couldn\u2019t have got off in the night at any of the landings, for I was awake, and on the lookout, whenever the boat stopped. I never trust these yer things to other folks.\u201d<\/p>\n
This speech was addressed to Tom quite confidentially, as if it was something that would be specially interesting to him. Tom made no answer.<\/p>\n
The trader searched the boat from stem to stern, among boxes, bales and barrels, around the machinery, by the chimneys, in vain.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow, I say, Tom, be fair about this yer,\u201d he said, when, after a fruitless search, he came where Tom was standing. \u201cYou know something about it, now. Don\u2019t tell me,\u2014I know you do. I saw the gal stretched out here about ten o\u2019clock, and ag\u2019in at twelve, and ag\u2019in between one and two; and then at four she was gone, and you was a sleeping right there all the time. Now, you know something,\u2014you can\u2019t help it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, Mas\u2019r,\u201d said Tom, \u201ctowards morning something brushed by me, and I kinder half woke; and then I hearn a great splash, and then I clare woke up, and the gal was gone. That\u2019s all I know on \u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
The trader was not shocked nor amazed; because, as we said before, he was used to a great many things that you are not used to. Even the awful presence of Death struck no solemn chill upon him. He had seen Death many times,\u2014met him in the way of trade, and got acquainted with him,\u2014and he only thought of him as a hard customer, that embarrassed his property operations very unfairly; and so he only swore that the gal was a baggage, and that he was devilish unlucky, and that, if things went on in this way, he should not make a cent on the trip. In short, he seemed to consider himself an ill-used man, decidedly; but there was no help for it, as the woman had escaped into a state which\u00a0never will\u00a0give up a fugitive,\u2014not even at the demand of the whole glorious Union. The trader, therefore, sat discontentedly down, with his little account-book, and put down the missing body and soul under the head of\u00a0losses!<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s a shocking creature, isn\u2019t he,\u2014this trader? so unfeeling! It\u2019s dreadful, really!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cO, but nobody thinks anything of these traders! They are universally despised,\u2014never received into any decent society.\u201d<\/p>\n
But who, sir, makes the trader? Who is most to blame? The enlightened, cultivated, intelligent man, who supports the system of which the trader is the inevitable result, or the poor trader himself? You make the public statement that calls for his trade, that debauches and depraves him, till he feels no shame in it; and in what are you better than he?<\/p>\n
Are you educated and he ignorant, you high and he low, you refined and he coarse, you talented and he simple?<\/p>\n
In the day of a future judgment, these very considerations may make it more tolerable for him than for you.<\/p>\n
In concluding these little incidents of lawful trade, we must beg the world not to think that American legislators are entirely destitute of humanity, as might, perhaps, be unfairly inferred from the great efforts made in our national body to protect and perpetuate this species of traffic.<\/p>\n
Who does not know how our great men are outdoing themselves, in declaiming against the\u00a0foreign\u00a0slave-trade. There are a perfect host of Clarksons and Wilberforces[3]\u00a0risen up among us on that subject, most edifying to hear and behold. Trading negroes from Africa, dear reader, is so horrid! It is not to be thought of! But trading them from Kentucky,\u2014that\u2019s quite another thing!<\/p>\n
[3]\u00a0Thomas Clarkson (1760-1846) and William Wilberforce (1759- 1833), English philanthropists and anti-slavery agitators who helped to secure passage of the Emancipation Bill by Parliament in 1833.<\/pre>\n
Source: Uncle Tom's Cabin, Project Gutenberg<\/a>\r\n\r\nThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at\u00a0www.gutenberg.org<\/a>. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.<\/pre>\n
 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Prior to Chapter 5, we are introduced to Mr. and Mrs. Shelby, farmers in Kentucky who own a fairly large estate and are presented as slaveholders who are kind to their enslaved workers. Eliza is the enslaved handmaid to Mrs. Shelby; she is light-skinned and is the mother of a young boy named Harry (her … Continue reading Uncle Tom’s Cabin – Chapters 5, 7, 9, 12<\/span> →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[76],"tags":[56,61,46,40,48,60,58],"class_list":["post-257","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-harriet-beecher-stowe","tag-democracy","tag-emancipation","tag-family","tag-fiction","tag-religious-belief","tag-slavery","tag-social-commentary"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/hartfordlit.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/257","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/hartfordlit.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/hartfordlit.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hartfordlit.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hartfordlit.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=257"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/hartfordlit.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/257\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/hartfordlit.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=257"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hartfordlit.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=257"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hartfordlit.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=257"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}