Uncle Tom's story of his lifeJosiah Henson, Harriet Beecher Stowe, John Lobb


Uncle Tom's Cabin
“March 20 is a great day in ſi
annals, for it marks the birth in
of Uncle Tom's Cabin."
“Originally the story came ou
newspaper serial, and there was
difficulty in finding a publisher fo
volume form, but when it did ap
went like a prairie fire. The bog
come at a ripe moment when t
in “black ivory" was verging 6
demnation by the moral sense
American nation. Within
months 300,000 copies had been
America, and in four months
Stowe had received to,000 doll
royalty.”
-
RVIE35.
q., JERRIRs P
--er-
“NIL pes PERAN pu".
- MANY parsons have e
truly a good epitaph. Som
times it was the fashion to wri
punning ones, examples of whi
may be found in the book, “T
Old Time Parson’’ (Methue
taken. The following epita
missionary is humorous, thou
it was not intended to
such :-
To the memory of >
Murdered by his Black Servan
“Well done, good and fait
servant.”—Matt. xxv. 23.


Deliverance Wrought By God.-All
the great “Exoduses" from slavery to free-
dom have been wrought by God. One can
hardly read this chapter without thinking
of the emancipation of the slaves in the
19th century. The horrible slave trade was
abolished in 1807 as far as Fngland was
concerned; by the Act of 1838 all slaves
within the British Empire were set free,
the Mother Country paying £20,000,000 as
compensation to the slave-owners in the
West Indies and South Africa. On August 1
800,000 slaves were freed Imagine it!
In Jamaica, on the set day, thousands of
them gathered as slaves in their chapels for
prayer. As midnight approached they knelt
in silence and listened for the striking of
the hour. It strack Amid shouting and
laughing and weeping all the congregation.
sang, “Praise God, from whom all blessings
flow.” The midnight departure from Egypt,
with Moses in the van, was practically a
similar event to that midnight scene in the
nineteenth century when the work of Wil-
berforce and others was crowned with
success. -
What the Coon Would Have Dome.
“The night before a negro battalion was to go
over the top an officer, addressing a coon who was
almost scared white, said:—
“: Sam, what would you do if you saw the
whole blamed German cavalry coming right at
you this very minute 3’ -
“‘Boss,” replied the black man, between knee-
quakes, ‘I’d sure spread the news through
France : * * .
The Admiral tells of another “coon,” who took
a batch of Huns prisoner in a trench. One of the
Germans, in pitiable accents, begged the negro to
let him off with his life. “Blease, blease spare
me !” he moaned. “I haf a wife and five children
got.”
“You'se mistaken, Mistah Fritz.” said Rastus.
“You ain’t got no wife and five children. What
you'se got is a widow and five orphans l’’



BLACKMANPROBLEMS,
newly Rich Negroes.
Nº. By F. A. McKENZIE.
*|| NEw York City.
It was a gathering of the Dandies of Darkey-
dom, an Afro-American concert, at Carnegie
Hall—the Queen's Hall of New York City.
There was a large Afro-American (do not hurt
their feelings by saying “nigger”) crowd, the
men in evening dress and the women in white.
Scores of ladies in the audience were wearing
the most elegant and costly garments the Rue
de la Pazz could supply. The splendidness of
the dress of the men, the glory of their silk
shirts, the cut of their clothes, and the gloss of
their silk handkerchiefs made me feel shabby.
These were the new coloured rich of America.
There was something pathetic in the gathering.
The white dresses served only to accentuate the
signs of the disastrous effects Northern city
life has on Negro women. A note of melancholy
pervaded much of the music. “We may be
rich, but we are still exiles,” it seemed to say.
The rich blacks in New York are so numerous
that they form a community of their own.
They hold no social intercourse with the whites.
| Every club is closed to them, and they are
denied admission to the big hotels. I do not
know a single black man in Wall-street or in
the big business offices “down town,” save as
porter or janitor One of the new rich has
made money out of real estate; another is re-
puted to have cleared a fortune out of a bleach-
|ing compound for complexions.
Sadly enough, their own people look down on
- * ~- *… t. i.e.-----------17 ---4---------------4-
Up to the Average
Dr. Henry Howard, of New York, tells
the following story. He was travelling
by rail in the Southern States of America
and asked the Negro porter what was the
average tip. “One dollar, sah,” replied
the darkie. Dr. Howard thought it rather a
stiff tip, but he handed over the dollar bill.
The darkie's eyes sparkled. “Thank you,
sah, You are the very first gentleman who
has ever come up to the average.”


… / *
*
• & %-42%º 2.4% . . / ºn tº
/*
2. a .
4 &
/82 )
college STAFF GOEST
DISPUTE About UNCLE TOM's
Fº * CABIN.” - -
from our own correspondent.
NEw York, Wednesday.
The old issue between north and south ºn
slavery has been revived in a heated dis-
ute between the P}. and faculty of
hatham Episcopa
Institute, a girls' finish-
ing school at Chatham, Virginia. The dis-
pute has culminated in the resignation of
the entire teaching staff. -
The trouble began a few days ago when
it was announced that, a lecturer would
deliver a eulogistic address on Harriet
Beecher Stowe, author of “Uncle Tom's
Cabin.” The Rev. Dr. Pruden, Episcopal
rector and president of the institute, being
a man of Southern traditions, promptly
vetoed the suggestion on the ground common
among many Southern families that Harriet
Stowe's work is, mischievous by reason of
its flºº ºf the Negro character...
|, Miss Eliza Willis, principal of the insti-
tute, opposed Dr. Pruden, describing his
action as the purest provincialism. In this
she was, supported by the entire faculty,
composed of graduates of Northern colleges.
The Rev. Beyerley Tucker, Bishop of the
diocese of Southern Virginia, vainly sought
to effect a settlement. Tºr. Pruden yielded
to the extent of apologising for the charac-
ter of some of his words reflecting on the
faculty, but declined to allow the lecture
to be held, and now he is organising a new
staff.


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“Wintle Com's Story of jis fift."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
UTOBIOGRAPHY
§
REV JOSIAH HENSON
(MRS. HARRIET BEECHER STOWE'S “UNCLE TOM").
A rom 1789 to 1876.
WITH A PREFACE º
By M RS. HARRIET B E E C H E R STOVVE,
and AN
§ntrobuttory {\ott
By GEORGE STURGE, AND S. MORLEY, Esq., M.P.
EDITED BY JOHN LOBB,
Managing Editor of the “Christian Age,” Editor of D. L. Moody’s “Arrows
and Anecdotes" and “ The Story of the Great Reznival.”
SIXTEENTH THOUSAND.
LONDON :
“CHRISTIAN AGE” OFFICE, 89, FARRINGDON STREET.
1876.
(Only Authorised Edition, and Copyright.)



spoon up brack sº
º, 'd away,
ºCOR lil brack sheep dat stray
º O ºne los in dewin' and rain.…,
£3A...". Shepherd. He say, “O hirelin'
Go fin' My sheep again.
An' de hirelin' ... -- º
am brack an' bad. -
º ... He smile de lil' brack sheep
is de onliest lamb he had.
- ---
An' He say, “ O hirelin', hº
* de …in an' de rain am colº
And datiº braskāśiº"
nº de hirelin' frown, “O Shepherd,
Dat sheep am ol' an' grey.”
But de Shepherd He smile like de lil' brack sheep
Wuz fair as de break ob day. -
An' He say, “O hirelin', hasten!
Lo, here is de ninety an’ nine,
But dere way off from de sheep-fol'
Is dat lil' brack sheep ob Mine.”
An' de hirelin' frown, “O Shepherd,
De rest ob de sheep am here.”
But de Shepherd He smile like de lil' brack sheep
He hol’ it de mostes' dear.
_
An' de Shepherd go out in de darkness,
Where de night was col' an’ bleak,
An' de lil' brack sheep He fin' it,
And lay it agains' His cheek.
An' de hirelin' frown, “O Shepherd,
Don’ bring dat sheep to me.”
But de Shepherd He smile, an’ He hol' it close,
An' de lil' brack sheep—is me ! -


. . . * * FRIENDs witH U.S.
- - ãº
- By AN OLD JOURNALIST.
In the “Daily News” of Sept. 20 Mr.
Warre B. Wells wrote: “I asked one of
the best informed Americans in London
the other day, “Do you believe in this
theory of an inevitable Anglo-American
war?’’. ‘I will give you an Irish answer,”
said he, with a smile, "America and Eng-
| land never will be friends.’”
Unless the cynie who said gratitude was
only a lively anticipation of favours to
come was right, Americans, should be our
very good friends, as they must ever be
our debtors.º.º. -
+ ºx
| As I have reached an age, which is at-
tained by not more than seven in every
hundred thousand born, I have a lively
recollection of the American Civil War,
and of this I am sure—that the United
states, as they existºto-day, owe their
entity to the self-sacrifice and right feel-
ing of the people of this country of sixty
- -- years ago. ººº-º-º: -
| I hope those who know all about the
American Civil War will forgive me for
very briefly explaining the cause for the
|benefit of those who know little of it.
ºvery existeºpºnny...in the sº -
| States, where quo a Aq 10) #.
were cultivated, anºe Northern States,
feeling asha: si. -
tº: 8 ºshamed that slavery shoul
}}. the States at all; had i. º:
tº ºppression. When Abrah. Lineoln
. Abolitionist, was elected President the
“Yassa. #.” ºf ºeſºpted it as a chaiien.
Washingto **. of the slave States at once secedei.
** g #. *reparate, Repúblic, and Tejº
Perhaps; º Davis as President tº remain.
of Rome?’ º tates sat on the fence
“Nossa, ſº fore taking ºn"º. ºt jumped be:
*** *
Most of the slave owners clai
- xial
#ººl, º
- * as Superior persons, -
the Northerners”. Yankº * º:
º º º!, *...an argument—the old º
ºf ºººººººº.
- e South. wº
*. arguments more pº
by . ..º. ºr. Federal, States at once
mocka ed New Orleans and other South.
* -
THE
“So you
Revolution,
º -
- *.


MRS. HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.
See page 212.


£
444
H52.
187%
PREFACE.
---
HE numerous friends of the author of this work
will need no greater recommendation than
his name to make it welcome. Among all the
singular and interesting records to which the insti-
tution of American slavery has given rise, we know
of none more striking, more characteristic and in-
structive, than that of Josia H HENson.
Born a slave—a slave in effect in a heathen
land—and under a heathen master, he grew up
without Christian light or knowledge, and like the
Gentiles spoken of by St. Paul, “without the law
did by nature the things that are written in the
law.” One sermon, one offer of salvation by Christ,
was sufficient for him, as for the Ethiopian eunuch,
to make him at once a believer from the heart and
a preacher of Jesus.
To the great Christian doctrine of forgiveness of
enemies and the returning of good for evil, he was
by God's grace made a faithful witness, under cir-
cumstances that try men's souls and make us all who
read it say, “Lead us not into such temptation.”
We earnestly commend this portion of his narrative
to those who, under much smaller temptations, think
themselves entitled to render evil for evil.


8 PREFACE.
The African race appear as yet to have been com-
panions only of the sufferings of Christ. In the
melancholy scene of His death—while Europe in the
person of the Roman delivered Him unto death, and
Asia in the person of the Jew clamoured for His
execution—Africa was represented in the person of
Simon the Cyrenean, who came patiently bearing
after Him the load of the cross; and ever since then
poor Africa has been toiling on, bearing the weary
cross of contempt and oppression after Jesus. But
they who suffer with Him shall also reign; and when
the unwritten annals of slavery shall appear in the
judgment, many Simons who have gone meekly
bearing their cross after Jesus to unknown graves,
shall rise to thrones and crowns ! Verily a day
shall come when He shall appear for these His
hidden ones, and then “many that are last shall be
first, and the first shall be last.”
HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.
Andover, Mass.
INTRODUCTORY NOTE.
By GEoRGE STURGE, AND S. MoRLEY, Esq., M.P.
–0-
N Rev. J. Henson's visit to England, Samuel
Morley, Esq., M.P., and George Sturge,
kindly undertook to be the treasurers of the
fund to liquidate the claims of his mortgagees.


PREFACE. 9
In response to our request for a few words intro-
ductory to “Uncle Tom's Life,” we have the follow-
ing from GEORGE STURGE. “My knowledge of
Josiah Henson dates from his visit to this country
twenty-five years ago, when my late brother Thomas
Sturge, with other friends of the negro race, helped
to establish “The Dawn Institute for the Education
of Coloured People in Canada.’ I regard Josiah
Henson in many respects as a remarkable man.
When I contemplate his unselfish efforts (at great
risk to himself) to rescue his brethren in slavery,
after he had obtained his own liberty, and his
labours as a free man to educate and enlighten them,
I consider that there are few men now living who
have done so much for the negro race. When
it is remembered, too, that he was a slave for
forty-two years, his life affords an encouraging
crample of what may be done, even by one who has
laboured under the greatest disadvantages, who
is earnestly desirous to benefit his race. His
Christian simplicity, and the absence of all bitter
feeling towards those who have oppressed him, will
have commended him to all who have made his
acquaintance. The life of “Uncle Tom,' now ex-
tended in its records to the present date, will be
found by its readers to possess deep interest, and
will doubtless be favourably received. On submitting
these observations to SAMUEL MoRLEY, his remark
was, ‘I THoRough LY AGREE witH THEM.’”
Sydenham, Oct. 1876.


CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
MY BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD.
Earliest memories.—Born in Maryland.—My father's fight
with an overseer.—One hundred stripes and his ear cut off.
-CHAPTER II.
MY FIRST GREAT TRIAL.
Origin of my name.—A kind master.—He is drowned.—My
mother's prayers.-A slave-auction.—Torn from my mother.
—Severe sickness.-A cruel master - -
CHAPTER III.
MY BOYHOOD AND YOUTH.
Early employment.—Slave-life.-Food, lodging, clothing.—
Amusements.-Gleams of sunshine.—My knight-errantry
CHAPTER IV.
MY CON V E R SION.
My praying mother.—A good man.—Hear a sermon for the
first time.—Its effect upon me
CHAPTER W.
MAIMED FOR LIFE.
Taking care of my drunken master.—His fight with an over-
seer.—Rescue him.—Am terribly beaten by the overseer
CHAPTER WI.
A RESPONSIBLE JOURNEY.
My marriage.—Marriage of my master.—His ruin.—Comes to
me for aid.—A great enterprise undertaken.—Long and suc-
cessful journey.—Incidents by the way -
C H A PTE R W II.
A NEW HOME.
Become a Methodist preacher.—My poor companions sold.—
My agony.—Sent for again. -
CHAPTER VIII.
RETURN TO MARYLAND.
Reception from my old master.—A slave again.—Appeal
CHAPTER IX.
TAKEN south, Away FROM wife AND CHILDREN.
Start for New Orleans.—Study navigation on the Mississippi .
CHAPTER X.
A TERRIBLE TEMPTATION.
Sigh for death.-A murder in my heart.—The axe raised
13
17
41
49
56


CONTENTS.
11
CHAPTER XI.
PROVIDENTIAL IDELIVERANCE.
Offered for sale.—Examined by purchasers.-Plead with my
young master in vain.-Man's extremity, God's opportunity 72
CHAPTER XII.
ESCAPE FROM BONDAGE.
Solitary musings.-Preparations for flight. —A long good-night
to master.—A dark night on the river.—Night-journeys 78
CHAPTER XIII.
JOURNEY TO CANADA.
Good Samaritans.—Alone in the wilderness.—Meet some
Indians.—Reach Sandusky.—Another friend.—All aboard . 86
- CHAPTER XIV.
NEW SCENES AND A NEW HOME.
A poor man in a strange land.—Begin to acquire property.—
Resume preaching.—Boys go to school.--What gave me a
desire to learn to read.—A day of prayer in the woods 96
* C. H. A. PTE R X W.
LIFE IN CANADA.
Condition of the blacks in Canada.-A tour of exploration . 103
CHAPTER XVI.
CONDUCTING SLAVES TO CANADA.
ympathy for the slaves. –James Lightfoot.— My first mission
to the South.-A Kentucky company of fugitives.—Safe at
home. - - •' . - - - - - . 107
CHAPTER XVII.
sEcoRD JOURNEY ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD.
A shower of stars.--Kentuckians.—A stratagem.—A provi-
dence.—Conducted across the Miami River by a cow.—
Arrival at Cincinnati.-One of the party taken ill.—We
leave him to die.—Meet a “Friend.”—A poor white man . 111
C H A PTER X W III.
HOME AT DAWN.
Condition in Canada.-Efforts in behalf of my people.—Rev.
Mr. Wilson. — A convention of blacks.-Manual-labour
school - - - - - • . . 121
CHAPTER XIX.
LUMBERING OPERATIONS.
Industrial project.—Find some able friends in Boston.—Pro-
cure funds and construct a sawmill.—Sales of lumber in
Boston.—Incident in the Custom House - - . 127
CHAPTER XX.
VISIT TO ENGLAND.
Debt on the institution.—A new pecuniary enterprise.—Letters
of recommendation to England.—Personal difficulties . . 131


12 CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XXI.
THE world's FAIR IN LONDON.
My contribution to the great exhibition.—Difficulty with the
American superintendent. — Happy release. — The great
crowd.—A call from the Queen.—Medal awarded to me . 133
CHAPTER XXII.
Visits TO THE RAGGED SCHOOLS.
Speech at Sunday-school anniversary.—Interview with Lord
Grey.—Interview with the Archbishop of Canterbury, and .
dinner with Lord John Russell, the great events of my life . 141
CHAPTER XXIII.
CLOSING UP MY LONDON AGENCY.
My narrative published.—Letter from home apprising me of
the sickness of my wife.—Departure from London.—Arrival
at home.—Meeting with my family . - - - . 147
CHAPTER XXIV.
MY BROTHER's FREEDOM.
Am I my brother's keeper?—Efforts to secure his freedom . 151
CHAPTER XXV.
MRs. STOWE's CHARACTERs.
My visit to Mrs. Stowe. —Why I am called “Uncle Tom.”—
Her interest in my life-story.—Her famous book.-Is it an
exaggeration ?—Mrs. Stowe's Key . - - - . 156
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE MANUAL LABOUR SCHOOL AT DAWN.
Troubles.—Misplaced confidence.—Eyes opened.—Lawsuit.— .
Wilberforce University - - 164
CHAPTER XXVII.
IDOLS SHATTERED.
The fate of the sawmill.—How the grist-mill vanished in the
night - - . 173
CHAPTER XXVIII.
FUGITIVE SLAVES EN ListING IN the states.
Taking up arms for my country.-Civil war in America.-Risk
of imprisonment for seven years.-Special providence saves
Iale . - - - - - . 176
CHAPTER XXIX.
EARLY ASPIRATIONS CHECKED.
Desire to learn to spell nipped in the bud.—Superstition . 187
CHAPTER XXX.
MY FAMILY.
A new light in my desolate home.—My children. —My third
visit to England.—Mr. Hughes . - - - - . 197
CHAPTER XXXI.
MY THIRD AND LAST VISIT TO LONDON.
Meeting old friends and making new ones.—Christian Age.—
Prof. Fowler's description . - - - . . . . 204


3.
MRS. H. BEECHER STOWE's
“UNCLE TOM.”
-º-
CHAPTER I.
MY BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD.
EARLIEST MEMORIES.—BORN IN MARYLAND.—MY FATHER's FIGHT
WITH AN OVERSEER.—ONE HUNDRED STRIPES AND HIS EAR CUT
OFF.—THROWS AWAY HIS BANJO AND BECOMES MOROSE.-SOLD
SOUTH,
HE story of my life, which I am about to record,
is one full of striking incident. Keener pangs,
deeper joys, more singular vicissitudes, few have
been led in God’s providence to experience. As I
look back on it through the vista of more than
eighty years, and scene after scene rises before me,
an ever fresh wonder fills my mind. I delight to
recall it. I dwell on it as did the Jews on the mar-
vellous history of their rescue from the bondage of
Egypt. Time has touched with its mellowing fin-
gers its sterner features. The sufferings of the past
are now like a dream, and the enduring lessons left
behind, make me to praise God that my soul has been
B


14 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
tempered by Him in so fiery a furnace and under
such heavy blows.
I was born June 15th, 1789, in Charles county,
Maryland, on a farm belonging to Mr. Francis
Newman, about a mile from Port Tobacco. My
mother was a slave of Dr. Josiah McPherson, but
hired to Mr. Newman, to whom my father be-
longed. The only incident I can remember which
occurred while my mother continued on Mr. New-
man's farm, was the appearance one day of my
father with his head bloody and his back lacerated.
He was beside himself with mingled rage and suffer-
ing. The overseer had brutally assaulted my mother,
when my father sprang upon him like a tiger. In
a moment the overseer was down, and, mastered by
rage, my father would have killed him but for the
entreaties of my mother, and the overseer's own
promise that nothing should ever be said of the
matter. The promise was kept—like most promises
of the cowardly and debased—as long as the danger
lasted.
The laws of slave states proviſie means and oppor-
tunities for revenge so ample, that miscreants like
him never fail to improve them. “A nigger has
struck a white man;” that is enough to set a whole
county on fire; no question is asked about the pro-
vocation. The authorities were soon in pursuit of
my father. The penalty was one hundred lashes on
the bare back, and to have the right ear nailed to
the whipping-post, and then severed from the body.
For a time my father kept out of the way, hiding in
the woods, and at night venturing into some cabin


, MY BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD. 15
in search of food. But at length the strict watch
set baffled all his efforts. His supplies cut off, he
was fairly starved out, and compelled by hunger to
come back and give himself up.
The day for the execution of the penalty was
appointed. The negroes from the neighbouring
plantations were summoned to witness the scene.
A powerful blacksmith named Hewes laid on the
stripes. Fifty were given, during which the cries
of my father might be heard a mile, and then a
pause ensued. True, he had struck a white man,
but as valuable property he must not be damaged.
Judicious men felt his pulse. Oh! he could stand
the whole. Again and again the thong fell on his
lacerated back. His cries grew fainter and fainter,
till a feeble groan was the only response to the final
blows. His head was then thrust against the post,
and his right ear fastened to it with a tack; a swift
pass of a knife, and the bleeding member was left
sticking to the place. Then came a hurra from the
degraded crowd, and the exclamation, “That's what
he's got for striking a white man.”
In the estimation of the illiterate, besotted poor
whites who constituted the witnesses of such scenes
in Charles county, Maryland, the man who did not
feel rage enough at hearing of “a nigger” striking
a white, to be ready to burn him alive, was only fit
to be lynched out of the neighbourhood.
Previous to this affair, my father, from all I can
learn, had been a good-humoured and light-hearted
man, the ringleader in all fun at corn-huskings and
Christmas buffoonery. His banjo was the life of the


16 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
farm, and all night long at a merry-making would
he play on it while the other negroes danced. But
from this hour he became utterly changed. Sullen,
morose, and dogged, nothing could be done with
him. The milk of human kindness in his heart was
turned to gall. He brooded over his wrongs. No
fear or threats of being sold to the far south—the
greatest of all terrors to the Maryland slave—would
render him tractable. So off he was sent to Ala-
bama. What was his after-fate neither my mother
nor I have ever learned; the great day will reveal
all. This was the first chapter in my history.


CHAPTER II.
MY FIRST GREAT TRIAL.
ORIGIN OF MY NAME. –A KIND MASTER.—HE IS DROWNED.—
MY MOTHER’s PRAYERS.—A SDAVE AUCTION.—ToRN FROM MY
MOTHER. -SEVERE SICKNESS. —A CRUEL MASTER.—SOLD AGAIN
AND RFSTORED TO MY MOTHER.
A". the sale of my father by Newman, Dr.
McPherson would no longer hire out my
mother to him. She returned, accordingly, to his
estate. He was far kinder to his slaves than the .
planters generally were, never suffering them to be
struck by any one. He was a man of good, kind
impulses, liberal, jovial, hearty. No degree of arbi-
trary power could ever lead him to cruelty. As
the first negro child ever born to him, I was his
especial pet. He gave me his own Christian name,
Josiah, and with that he also gave me my last name,
Henson, after an uncle of his, who was an officer in
the revolutionary war. A bright spot in my child-
hood was my residence with him—bright, but, alas !
fleeting. Events were rapidly maturing which were
to change the whole aspect of my life. The kind
doctor was not exempt from that failing which too
often besets easy, social natures in a dissipated
community. He could not restrain his convivial
propensities. Although he maintained a high repu-


18 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
tation for goodness of heart and cn almost saint-
like benevolence, the habit of intemperance steadily
gained ground, and finally occasioned his death.
Two negroes on the plantation found him one morn-
ing lying dead in the middle of a narrow stream,
not a foot in depth. He had been away the night
previous at a social party, and when returning home
had fallen from his horse, probably, and being too
intoxicated to stagger through the stream, fell and
was drowned. “There's the place where massa
got drownded at; ” how well I remember having
it pointed out to me in those very words.
For two or three years my mother and her young
family of six children had resided on the doctor's
estate, and we had been in the main very happy.
She was a good mother to us, a woman of deep piety,
anxious above all things to touch our hearts with a
sense of religion. How or where she acquired her
knowledge of God, or her acquaintance with the
Lord's Prayer, which she so frequently taught us to
repeat, I am unable to say. I remember seeing her
often on her knees, and hearing her pray by repeat-
ing constant ejaculations, and short phrases which
were within my infant comprehension, and have re-
mained in my memory to this hour.
Our term of happy union as one family was now,
alas! at an end. The doctor's death was a great
calamity to us, for the estate and the slaves were to
be sold and the proceeds divided among the heirs.
The first sad announcement that the sale was to be;
the knowledge that all ties of the past were to be
sundered; the frantic terror at the idea of being sent


MY FIRST GREAT TRIAL. 19
“down south;” the almost certainty that one mem-
ber of a family will be torn from another; the anxious
scanning of purchasers’ faces; the agony at parting,
often for ever, with husband, wife, child—these must
be seen and felt to be fully understood. Young as I
was then, the iron entered into my soul. The re-
membrance of the breaking up of McPherson's estate
is photographed in its minutest features in my mind.
The crowd collected round the stand, the huddling
group of negroes, the examination of muscle, teeth,
the exhibition of agility, the look of the auctioneer,
the agony of my mother—I can shut my eyes and
see them all.
My brothers and sisters were bid off first, and one
by one, while my mother, paralysed by grief, held
me by the hand. Her turn came, and she was
bought by Isaac Riley, of Montgomery county.
Then I was offered to the assembled purchasers.
My mother, half-distracted with the thought of
parting for ever from all her children, pushed
through the crowd, while the bidding for me was
going on, to the spot where Riley was standing.
She fell at his feet, and clung to his knees, entreat-
ing him in tones that a mother only could command,
to buy her baby as well as herself, and spare to her
one, at least, of her little ones. Will it, can it be
believed that this man, thus appealed to, was capable
not merely of turning a deaf ear to her supplication,
but of disengaging himself from her with such
violent blows and kicks, as to reduce her to the
necessity of creeping out of his reach, and mingling
the groan of bodily suffering with the sob of a break-


20 MRs. H. BEECHER Stowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
ing heart? As she crawled away from the brutal
man, I heard her sob out, “Oh, Lord Jesus, how
long, how long shall I suffer this way?” I must
have been then between five and six years old.
I was bought by a stranger named Robb, and
truly a robber he was to me. He took me to his
home, about forty miles distant, and put me into his
negro quarters with about forty others, of all ages,
colours, and conditions, all strangers to me. Of
course nobody cared for me. The slaves were
brutalised by this degradation, and had no sympathy
for mé. I soon fell sick, and lay for some days
almost dead on the ground. Sometimes a slave
would give me a piece of corn-bread, or a bit of
herring. Finally I became so feeble that I could
not move. This, however, was fortunate for me; for
in the course of a few weeks, Robb met Riley, who
had bought my mother, and offered to sell me to him
cheap. Riley said he was afraid, “the little nigger
would die;” but he agreed, finally, to pay a small
sum for me in horse-shoeing if I lived, and nothing
if I died. Robb was a tavern-keeper, and owned a
line of stages with the horses, and lived near Mont-
gomery Court House; Riley carried on blacksmithing
about five miles from that place. This clenched the
bargain, and I was soon sent to my mother. A
blessed change it was. I had been lying on a lot of
rags, thrown on a dirt floor. All day long I had
been left alone, crying for water, crying for mother;
the slaves, who left at daylight, when they returned
cared nothing for me. Now, I was once more with
my best friend on earth, and under her care; desti-


MY FIRST, GREAT TRIAL. 21
tute as she was of the proper means of nursing me, I
recovered my health, and grew to be an uncommonly
vigorous boy. and man.
I faithfully served Riley for many years. He was
coarse and vulgar in his habits, and unprincipled
and cruel in his general deportment. His slaves had
little opportunity for relaxation from wearying
labour, were supplied with the scantiest means of
sustaining their toil by necessary food, and had no
security for personal rights. When such a master
is a tyrant, the slaves often become cringing,
treacherous, false, and thieving. Riley and his
slaves were no exception to the general rule, but
might be cited as apt illustrations of the nature of
the relation.


CHAPTER III.
MY BOYHOOD AND YOUTH,
EARLY EMPLOYMENT.-SLAVE-LIFE.-FOOD, LODGING, CLOTHING...—
AMUSEMENTS.-GLEAMS OF SUNSHINE.-MY KNIGHT-ERRANTRY.
–BECOME AN OVERSEER AND GENERAL SUPERINTENDENT.
Yearliest employments were, to carry buckets of
water to the men at work, and to hold a horse-
plough, used for weeding between the rows of corn.
As I grew older and taller, I was entrusted with the
care of master's saddle-horse. Then a hoe was put
into my hands, and I was soon required to do the
day's work of a man; and it was not long before I
could do it, at least as well as my associates in
misery.
A description of the everyday life of a slave on
a southern plantation illustrates the character and
habits of the slave and the slaveholder, created and
perpetuated by their relative position. The prin-
cipal food of those upon my master's plantation con-
sisted of corn-meal, and salt herrings; to which was
added in summer a little buttermilk, and the few
vegetables which each might raise for himself and
his family, on the little piece of ground which was
assigned to him for the purpose, called a truck-
patch.
In ordinary times we had two regular meals in a


MY BOYHOOD AND YOUTH, 23
day: breakfast at twelve o'clock, after labouring
from daylight, and supper when the work of the
remainder of the day was over. In harvest season
we had three. Our dress was of tow-cloth ; for the
children, nothing but a shirt; for the older ones a
pair of pantaloons or a gown in addition, according
to the sex. Besides these, in the winter a round
jacket or overcoat, a wool-hat once in two or three
years, for the males, and a pair of coarse shoes once
a year.
We lodged in log huts, and on the bare ground.
Wooden floors were an unknown luxury. In a
single room were huddled, like cattle, ten or a dozen
persons, men, women, and children. All ideas of
refinement and decency were, of course, out of the
question. We had neither bedsteads, nor furniture
of any description. Our beds were collections of
straw and old rags, thrown down in the corners and
boxed in with boards; a single blanket the only
covering. Our favourite way of sleeping, however,
was on a plank, our heads raised on an old jacket
and our feet toasting before the Smouldering fire.
The wind whistled and the rain and snow blew in
through the cracks, and the damp earth soaked in
the moisture till the floor was miry as a pig-sty.
Such were our houses. In these wretched hovels
were we penned at night, and fed by day; here were
the children born and the sick—neglected.
Notwithstanding this system of management I
grew to be a robust and vigorous lad. At fifteen
years of age there were few who could compete
with me in work or sport. I was as lively as a


24 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
young buck, and running over with animal spirits.
I could run faster, wrestle better, and jump higher
than anybody about me, and at an evening shake-
down in our own or a neighbour's kitchen, my feet
became absolutely invisible from the rate at which
they moved. All this caused my master and my
fellow-slaves to look upon me as a wonderfully smart
fellow, and prophecy the great things I should do
when I became a man. My vanity became vastly
inflamed, and 1 fully coincided in their opinion.
Julius Caesar never aspired and plotted for the im-
perial crown more ambitiously than did I to out-hoe,
out-reap, out-husk, out-dance, out-strip every com-
petitor; and from all I can learn he never enjoyed
his triumph half as much. One word of commen-
dation from the petty despot who ruled over us
would set me up for a month. -
God be praised, that, however hedged in by cir-
cumstances, the joyful exuberance of youth will -
bound at times over them all. Ours is a light-
hearted race. The sternest and most covetous
master cannot frighten or whip the fun out of us;
certainly old Riley never did out of me. In those
days I had many a merry time, and would have had,
had I lived with nothing but moccasins and rattle-
snakes in Okafenoke swamp. Slavery did its best to
make me wretched, but, along with memories of miry
cabins, frosted feet, weary toil under the blazing
sun, curses and blows, there flock in others, of
jolly Christmas times, dances before old massa's door
for the first drink of egg-nog, extra meat at holiday
times, midnight-visits to apple-orchards, broiling


MY BOYHOOD AND YOUTH, 25
stray chickens, and first-rate tricks to dodge work.
The God who makes the lambs gambol, the kittens
play, the birds sing, and the fish leap, gave me a
light, merry, and joyous heart. True it was, that
the fun and freedom of Christmas, at which time my
master relaxed his front, was generally followed up
by a portentous back-action, under which he drove
and cursed worse than ever; still the fun and free-
dom were fixed facts; we had had them and he could
not help it.
Besides these pleasant memories I have others of
a deeper and richer kind. I early learned to employ
my spirit of adventure for the benefit of my fellow-
sufferers. The condition of the male slave is bad
enough ; but that of the female, often compelled to
perform severe labour, sick or well, unpitied and
unaided, is one that arouses the spirit of sympathy
in every heart not dead to all feeling. The miseries
- which I saw many of the women suffer, often
oppressed me with a load of sorrow. No white
knight, rescuing a white fair lady from cruel oppres-
sion, ever felt the throbbing of a chivalrous heart more
intensely than I, a black knight, did, when running
down a chicken to hide it in an out-of-the-way place
till dark, that I might be able then to carry it to
some poor overworked black fair one, to whom it was
at once food, luxury, and medicine. No Scotch
borderer, levying black mail or sweeping off a drove
of cattle, ever felt more assured of the justice of
his act than I of mine, when I was driving a pig or
a sheep a mile or two into the woods, to slaughter


26 MRs. H. BEECHER stowe’s “UNCLE ToM.”
for the good of those whom Riley was starving. I
felt good, moral, heroic.
Was this wrong? I can only say in reply, that,
at this distance of time, my conscience does not
reproach me for it. Then I esteemed it among the
best of my deeds. It was my training in the luxury
of doing good, in the divinity of a sympathetic heart,
in the righteousness of indignation against the cruel,
and oppressive. There and then was my soul made
conscious of all the chivalry of which my circum-
stances and condition in life admitted. I love the
sentiment in its splendid environment of castles,
and tilts, and gallantry; but having fallen on other
times, I loved it also in the homely guise of Sambo
as Paladin, Dinah as an oppressed maiden, and old
Riley as grim oppressor.
By means of the influence thus acquired, the great
amount of work I performed upon the farm, and by
the detection of the knavery of the overseer, who
plundered his employer for more selfish ends, was
caught in the act and dismissed, I was promoted to
be superintendent of the farm-work, and managed
to raise more than double the crops, with more
cheerful and willing labour, than was ever seen on
the estate before. -
I was now, practically, overseer. My pride and
ambition had made me master of every kind of farm-
work. But, like all ambition, its reward was in-
crease of burdens. The crops of wheat, oats, barley,
potatoes, corn, tobacco, all had to be cared for by
me. I was often compelled to start at midnight
with the waggon for the distant market, to drive on


MY BOYHOOD AND YOUTH. 27
through mud and rain till morning, sell the produce,
reach home hungry and tired, and nine times out of
ten, reap my sole reward in curses for not getting
higher prices. My master was a fearful blasphemer.
Clearly as he saw my profitableness to him, he was
too much of a brute to reward me with kindness or
even decent treatment. Previous to my attaining
this important station, however, an incident occurred
which produced so powerful an influence on my in-
tellectual development, my character, condition,
my religious culture, and in short, on my whole
nature, body and soul, that it deserves especial
notice and commemoration. This, however, requires
another chapter. -


CHAPTER IV.
MY CONWIERSION.
MY PRAYING. MOTHER.—A GOOD MAN.—HEAR A SERMON FOR THE
FIRST TIME. –ITS EFFECT UPON ME.-PRAYER AND COMMUNION.
—ITS FiRST FRUITS.
REMEMBER being torn from a dear and affec-
- tionate mother; I saw her tears and heard her
groans; I remember all the particulars. From a
little boy up I have remembered my mother; I re-
member what the prayers of my dear mother were;
I have heard her pray for me; for she was a good
Christian woman before I was born ; and I thank
God that I was born of a good Christian mother, a
mother whose prayers fell on my ear. Of all earthly
blessings there is none can approach to a good
mother. I remember her entreaties; I remember
her prayers to God for me. Blessed is the child,
the son or daughter, that has the prayers of a
mother. I. remember well the feeling that those
prayers wrought upon my heart, though I was but
a boy.
My heart exults with gratitude when I mention the
name of a good man who first taught me the blessed-
ness of religion. His name was John McKenny.
He lived at Georgetown, a few miles only from
Riley's plantation; his business was that of a baker,


MY CONVERSION. - 29
and his character was that of an upright, benevolent
Christian. He was noted especially for his detesta-
tion of slavery, and his resolute avoidance of the em-
ployment of slave-labour in his business. He would
not even hire a slave, the price of whose toil must be
paid to his master, but contented himself with the
work of his own hands, and with such free labour as
he could procure. His reputation was high, not only
for this almost singular abstinence from what no one
about him thought wrong, but for his general probity
and excellence. This man occasionally served as a
minister of the Gospel, and preached in a neighbour-
hood where preachers were somewhat rare at that
period. One Sunday when he was to officiate in this
way, at a place three or four miles distant, my mother
urged me to ask master's permission to go and hear
him. I had so often been beaten for making such a
request that I refused to make it. My mother came
to me and said: “Now, my son, I want you to go
and ask master to let you go down and hear Mr.
McKenny preach.” I said to my mother: “I do
not want to go; I am afraid he will beat me.” She
said: “Go and ask him.” I turned round, like
many other boys, and said I would not go. She
was standing against a rail; she dropped her head
down and shed a tear. I stood and looked at her
and was touched at her sorrow. I said: “I will
go, mother.” She said: “That is right.” I went
up to the house, and just before I got to the door,
master saw my shadow. He turned round and asked
what I wanted. I said: “I want to ask you if I
C


30 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
can go to the meeting.” “Where?” “Down at New.
port Mill.” “Who is going to preach P” “Mr.
McKenny.” “What do you want to hear him
preach for P” Here I was in a difficulty; I did
not know what I wanted to go for, and I told him
so. “What good will it do for you?” Here I
was at another point. “Who put that into your
head P” There was another thing; I did not want
to get my poor old mother into trouble. But she
had always told me to tell the truth. So I answered:
“My mother.” “Ah,” said he, “I thought it was
your mother. I suppose she wants to have you
spoilt. When will you come back P” “As soon
as meeting is over.” Well, I went to the meet-
ing, I heard the preacher, but I could not see him.
They would not let niggers go into the meeting. I
went all round the house; I could hear him, and at
last I got in front of the door. I saw him with his
hands raised, looking up to heaven, and he said, with
emphasis: “Jesus Christ, the Son of God, tasted
death for every man; for the high, for the low, for
the rich, for the poor, the bond, the free, the negro
in his chains, the man in gold and diamonds.” His
heart was filled with the love of Christ, and by the
power of the Spirit of God he preached a universal
salvation through Jesus Christ. I stood and heard it.
It touched my heart, and I cried out: “I wonder if
Jesus Christ died for me.” And then I wondered
what could have induced Him to die for me. I was
then eighteen years old, I had never heard a sermon,
nor any conversation whatever, upon religious topics,


MY conversion. 31
except what I had heard from my mother, on the
responsibility of all to a Supreme Being. This was
Heb. ii. 9, the first text of the Bible to which I had
ever listened, knowing it to be such. I have never
forgotten it, and scarcely a day has passed since, in
which I have not recalled it, and the sermon that
was preached from it. -
The divine character of Jesus Christ, His tender
love for mankind, His forgiving spirit, His compas-
sion for the outcast and despised, His cruel cruci-
fixion and glorious ascension, were all depicted, and
some of the points were dwelt on with great power;
great, at least, to me, who then heard of these things
for the first time in my life. Again and again did
the preacher reiterate the words “for every man.”
These glad tidings, this salvation, were not for the
benefit of a select few only. They were for the slave
as well as the master, the poor as well as the rich,
for the persecuted, the distressed, the heavy-laden,
the captive; even for me among the rest, a poor,
despised, abused creature, deemed by others fit for
nothing but unrequited toil—but mental and bodily
degradation. Oh, the blessedness and sweetness of
feeling that I was LovED ! I would have died that
moment with joy, and I kept repeating to myself,
“The compassionate Saviour about whom I have heard
“loves me,’ ‘He looks down in compassion from
heaven on me,’ ‘He died to save my soul,” and
‘He'll welcome me to the skies.” I was transported
with delicious joy. I seemed to see a glorious being,
in a cloud of splendour, smiling down from on high


32 MRs. H. BEECHER Stowe’s “UNCLE ToM.”
In sharp contrast with the experience I had felt of
the contempt and brutality of my earthly master,
I basked, as it were, in the benign smiles of this
Heavenly Being. I thought, “He’ll be my dear refuge
—He'll wipe away all tears from my eyes.” “Now
I can bear all things; nothing will seem hard after
this.” I felt sure that if “Massa Riley’’ only knew
Him, he would not live such a coarse, wicked, cruel
life. Swallowed up in the beauty of the divine love,
I “loved my enemies, and prayed for them that did
despitefully use and entreat me.”
Revolving the things which I had heard in my
mind as I went home. I became so excited that I
turned aside from the road into the woods, and
prayed to God for light and for aid with an earnest-
ness, which, however unenlightened, was at least
sincere and heartfelt; and which the subsequent
course of my life has led me to imagine was accept-
able to Him who heareth prayer. At all events, I
date my conversion, and my awakening to a new
life—a consciousness of power and a destiny superior
to anything I had before conceived of—from this
day, so memorable to me. I used every means and
opportunity of inquiry into religious matters; and
so deep was my conviction of their superior import-
ance to everything else, so clear my perception of
my own faults, and so undoubting my observation
of the darkness and sin that surrounded me, that I
could not help talking much on these subjects with
those about me; and it was not long before I began
to pray with them, exhort them, and impart to the


MY CONVERSION. 33
poor slaves those little glimmerings of light from
another world, which had reached my own eye. In
a few years I became quite an esteemed preacher
among them, and I believe that, through the grace
of God, I was useful to many. -
I must return, however, for the present, to the
course of my life in secular affairs, the facts of which
it is my principal object to relate.


CHAPTER W.
MAIMED FOR LIFE.
TAKING CARE OF MY DRUNKEN MASTER.—HIS FIGHT WITH AN
OVERSEER.—RESCUE HIM.–AM TERRIBLY BEATEN BY THE OVER-
SEER.—MY MASTER SEEKs REDRESS AT LAW, BUT FAILs. –
SUFFERINGS THEN AND SINCE.-RETAIN MY POST AS SUPERIN-
TENDENT.
HE difference between the manner in which it
was designed that all men should regard one
another as children of the same Father, and the
manner in which men of different colour actually
treated each other, is well exemplified by an incident
that happened to me within a year or two from this
period; that is, when I was nineteen or twenty years
old. My master's habits were such as were common
enough among the dissipated planters of the neigh-
bourhood; and one of their frequent practices was
to assemble on Saturday or Sunday, which were
their holidays, and gamble, run horses, or fight
game-cocks, discuss politics, and drink whisky and
brandy-and-water all day long. Perfectly aware
that they would not be able to find their own way
home at night, each one ordered his body-servant
to come after him and help him home. I was chosen
for this confidential duty by my master; and many
were the times I have held him on his horse, when he


'MAIMED FOR LIFE. 35
could not hold himself in the saddle, and walked
by his side in darkness and mud from the tavern
to his house. Quarrels and brawls of the most
violent description were frequent consequences of
these meetings; and whenever they became espe-
cially dangerous, and glasses were thrown, dirks
drawn, and pistols fired, it was the duty of the
slaves to rush in, and each one drag his master
from the fight, and carry him home. To tell the
truth, this was a part of my business for which I
felt no reluctance. I was young, remarkably athletic
and self-relying, and in such affrays I carried it
with a high hand, and would elbow my way among
the whites, whom it would have been almost death
for me to strike, seize my master and drag him
out, mount him on his horse, or crowd him into his
buggy, with the ease with which I would handle a
bag of corn. I knew that I was doing for him what
he could not do for himself, showing my superiority
to others, and acquiring their respect in some degree,
at the same time.
On one of these occasions my master got into a
quarrel with his brother's overseer, Bryce Litton.
All present sided with Litton against him, and soon
there was a general row. I was sitting, at the time,
out on the front steps of the tavern, and, hearing
the scuffle, rushed in to look after my charge. My
master, a stout man and a terrible bruiser, could
generally hold his own in an ordinary general fight,
and clear a handsome space around him ; but now he
was cornered, and a dozen were striking at him with
fists, crockery, chairs, and anything that came handy.


36 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE ToM.”
The moment he saw me, he hallooed, “That's it,
Sie! pitch in show me fair play.” It was a rough
business, and I went in roughly, showing, tripping,
and doing my best for the rescue. With infinite
trouble, and many a bruise on my own head and
shoulders, I at length got him out of the room. He
was crazy with drink and rage, and struggled hard
with me to get back and renew the fight. But I
managed to force him into his waggon, jump in,
and drive off.
By ill-luck, in the height of the scuffle, Bryce
Litton got a severe fall. Whether the whisky he
had drunk, or a chance-shove from me, was the
cause, I am unable to say. He, however, attributed
it to me, and treasured up his vengeance for the
first favourable opportunity. The opportunity soon
Carne.
About a week afterwards, I was sent by my master
to a place a few miles distant, on horseback, with some
letters. I took a short cut through a lane, separated
by gates from the high road, and bounded by a fence
on each side. This lane passed through a part of the
farm owned by my master's brother, and his over-
seer was in the adjoining field, with three negroes,
when I went by. On my return, half an hour after-
wards, the overseer was sitting on the fence, but I
could see nothing of the black fellows. I rode
on, utterly unsuspicious of any trouble; but as I
approached, he jumped off the fence, and at the same
moment two of the negroes sprang up from under
the bushes where they had been concealed, and
stood with him in mediately in front of me, while


MAIMED FOR LIFE. 37
the third sprang over the fence just behind me. I
was thus enclosed between what I could no longer
doubt were hostile forces. The overseer seized my
horse's bridle and ordered me to alight, in the usual
elegant phraseology addressed by such men to slaves.
I asked what I was to alight for. “To take the
worst flogging you ever had in your life, you black
scoundrel.” He added many oaths that I will not
repeat. “But what am I to be flogged for, Mr.
L. P” I asked. “Not a word,” said he, “but 'light
at once, and take off your jacket.” I saw there was
nothing else to be done, and slipped off the horse on
the opposite side from him. “Now take off your
shirt,” cried he ; and as I demurred at this he lifted
a stick he had in his hand to strike me, but so sud-
denly and violently that he frightened the horse,
which broke away from him and ran home. I was
thus left without means of escape to sustain the
attacks of four men as well as I might. In avoiding
Mr. L.'s blow, I had accidentally got into a corner
of the fence where I could not be approached except
in front. The overseer called upon the negroes to
seize me; but they, knowing something of my
physical power, were slow to obey. At length they
did their best, and as they brought themselves
within my reach I knocked them down successively;
and I gave one of them, who tried to trip up my
feet, when he was down, a kick with my heavy shoe,
which knocked out several teeth, and sent him howl-
ing away.
Meanwhile Bryce Litton beat my head with a
stick, not heavy enough to knock me down, but


38 MRS. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
it drew blood freely. IIe shouted all the while,
“Won't you give up ! won’t you give up !” adding
oath after oath. Exasperated at my defence, he sud-
denly seized a heavy fence-rail and rushed at me
with rage. The ponderous blow fell; I lifted my
arm to ward it off, the bone cracked like a pipe-stem,
and I fell headlong to the ground. . Repeated blows
then rained on my back till both shoulder-blades
were broken, and the blood gushed copiously from
my mouth. In vain the negroes interposed. “Didn't
you see the nigger strike me?” Of course they must
say “Yes,” although the lying coward had avoided
close quarters, and fought with his stick alone. At
length, his vengeance satisfied, he desisted, telling me
“to remember what it was to strike a white man.”
Meanwhile an alarm had been raised at the house
by the return of the horse without his rider, and my
master started off with a small party to learn what
the trouble was. When he first saw me he swore
with rage. “You’ve been fighting, you mean
nigger l’’ I told him Bryce Litton had been beating
me, because he said I shoved him the other night at
the tavern, when they had a fuss. Seeing how muc
I was injured, he became still more fearfully mad;
and after having me carried home, mounted his horse
and rode over to Montgomery Court House to enter
a complaint. Little good came of it. Litton swore
that when he spoke to me in the lane I “sassed”
him, jumped off my horse, attacked him, and would
have killed him but for the help of his negroes. Of
course no negro's testimony was admitted against a
white man, and he was acquitted. My master was
obliged to pay all the costs of court; and although


MAIMED FOR LIFE. 39
he had the satisfaction of calling Litton a liar and
scoundrel, and giving him a tremendous bruising,
still even this partial compensation was rendered less
gratifying by what followed, which was a suit for
damages and a heavy fine.
My sufferings after this cruel treatment were
intense. Besides my broken arm and the wounds
on my head, I could feel and hear the pieces of my
shoulder-blades grate against each other with every
breath. No physician or surgeon was called to dress
my wounds, and I never knew one to be called on
Riley's estate on any occasion whatever. “A nigger
will get well anyway,” was a fixed principle of faith,
and facts seemed to justify it. The robust, physical
health produced by a life of outdoor labour, made
our wounds heal with as little inflammation as they
do in the case of cattle. I was attended by my
master's sister, Miss Patty, as we called her, the
Esculapius of the plantation. She was a powerful,
big-boned woman, who flinched at no responsibility,
from wrenching out teeth to setting bones. I have
seen her go into the house and get a rifle to shoot a
furious ox that the negroes were in vain trying to
butcher. She splintered my arm and bound up my
back as well as she knew how. Alas! it was but
cobbler's work. From that day to this I have been
unable to raise my hands as high as my head. It
was five months before I could work at all, and the
first time I tried to plough, a hard knock of the
coulter against a stone shattered my shoulder-blades
again, and gave me even greater agony than at
first. And so I have gone through life maimed and
mutilated. Practice in time enabled me to perform


£0 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
many of the farm labours with considerable effi-
ciency; but the free, vigorous play of the muscles of
my arm was gone for ever.
I retained my situation as overseer, together with
the especial favour of my master, who was pleased
with saving the expense of a large salary for a white
superintendent, and with the superior crops I was
able to raise for him. I will not deny that I used
his property more freely than he would have done
himself, in supplying his people with better food;
but if I cheated him in this way, in small matters,
it was unequivocally for his own benefit in more
important ones; and I accounted, with the strictest
honesty, for every dollar I received in the sale of the
property entrusted to me. Gradually the disposal of
everything raised on the farm, the wheat, oats,
hay, fruit, butter, and whatever else there might be,
—was confided to me, as it was quite evident that I
could and did sell for better prices than any one else
he could employ, and he was quite incompetent to
attend to the business himself. For many years I
was his factotum, and supplied him with all his
means for all his purposes, whether they were good
or bad. I had no reason to think highly of his
moral character; but it was my duty to be faithful
to him in the position in which he placed me; and I
can boldly declare, before God and man, that I was
so. I forgave him the causeless blows and injuries
he had inflicted on me in childhood and youth, and
was proud of the favour he now showed me, and of
the character and reputation I had earned by strenu-
ous and persevering efforts.


CHAPTER WI
A RESPONSIBLE JOURNEY.
MY MARRIAGE.-MARRIAGE OF MY MASTER.—HIS RUIN.-COMES TO
ME FOR AID.—A GREAT ENTERPRISE UNDERTAKEN.—LONG AND
SUCCESSFUL JOURNEY.-INCIDENTS BY THE WAY. —STRUGGLE
BETWEEN INCLINATION AND DUTY.—DUTY TRIUMPHANT.
HEN I was about twenty-two years of age, I
married a very efficient, and, for a slave, a
very well-taught girl, belonging to a neighbouring
family reputed to be pious and kind. I first met her
at the religious meetings which I attended. She has
borne me twelve children, seven of whom still survive
and promise to be the comfort of my declining
years.
For a considerable period, my occupations were to
superintend the farming operations, and to sell the
produce in the neighbouring markets of Washington
and Georgetown. Many respectable people, yet
living there, may possibly have some recollection of
“Siah,” or “Sie,” (as they used to call me,) as their
market-man; but if they have forgotten me, I re-
member them with an honest satisfaction.
At length my master, at the age of forty-five,
married a young woman of eighteen, who had some
little property, and more thrift. Her economy was
, remarkable, and she added no comfort to the estab-


42 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE ToM.”
lishment. She had a younger brother, Francis, to
whom Riley was appointed guardian, and who used
to complain of the meanness of the provision made
for the household; he would often come to me, with
tears in his eyes, to tell me he could not get enough
to eat. I made him my friend for life, by sympa-
thising with him and satisfying his appetite, by
sharing with him the food I took care to provide for
my own family. He is still living, and, I under-
stand, one of the wealthiest men in Washington
city.
After a time, however, continual dissipation was
more than a match for domestic saving. My master
fell into difficulty, and from difficulty into a lawsuit
with a brother-in-law, who charged him with dis-
honesty in the management of property confided to
him in trust. The lawsuit was protracted enough
to cause his ruin of itself.
Harsh and tyrannical as my master had been, I
really pitied him in his present distress. At times
he was dreadfully dejected, at others, crazy with
drink and rage. Day after day would he ride over
to Montgomery Court House about his business, and
every day his affairs grew more desperate. He
would come into my cabin to tell me how things
were going, but spent the time chiefly in lamenting
his misfortunes and cursing his brother-in-law. I
tried to comfort him as best I could. He had con-
fidence in my fidelity and judgment, and partly
through pride, partly through that divine spirit of
love I had learned to worship in Jesus, I entered
with interest into all his perplexities. The poor,


' A RESPONSIBLE JOURNEY. 43
drinking, furious, shiftless, moaning creature was
utterly incapable of managing his affairs.
One night in the month of January, long after I
had fallen asleep, he came into my cabin and waked
me up. I thought it strange, but for a time he said
nothing, and sat moodily warming himself at the
fire. Then he began to groan and wring his hands.
“Sick, massa P” said I. He made no reply, but
kept on moaning. “Can’t I help you any way,
massa P” I spoke tenderly, for my heart was full
of compassion at his wretched appearance. At last,
collecting himself, he cried, “Oh, Sie! I’m ruined,
ruined, ruined l’” “How so, massa?” “They’ve
got judgment against me, and in less than two weeks
every nigger I’ve got will be put up and sold.”
Then he burst into a storm of curses at his brother-
in-law. I sat silent, powerless to utter a word. Pity
for him and terror at the anticipation of my own
family's future fate filled my heart. “And now,
Sie,” he continued, “there's only one way I can
save anything. You can do it; won’t you, won’t
you?” In his distress he rose and actually threw
his arms around me. Misery had levelled all dis-
tinctions. “If I can do it, massa, I will. What is
it?” Without replying he went on, “Won't you,
won’t you? I raised you, Sie; I made you over-
seer; I know I have abused you, Sie, but I didn’t
mean it.” Still he avoided telling me what he wanted,
“Promise me you'll do it, boy.” He seemed reso.
lutely bent on having my promise first, well know-
ing from past experience, that what I agreed to do I
spared no pains to accomplish. Solicited in this way,


44 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
with urgency and tears, by the man whom I had so
zealously served for over thirty years, and who now
seemed absolutely dependent upon his slave; im-
pelled, too, by the fear which he skilfully awakened,
that the sheriff would seize every one who belonged
to him, and that all would be separated, or perhaps
sold to go to Georgia, or Louisiana—an object of
perpetual dread to the slave of the more northern
States—I consented, and promised faithfully to do
all I could to save him from the fate impending over
him.
At last the proposition came. “I want you to
run away, Sie, to my brother Amos in Kentucky,
and take all the servants along with you.” I could
not have been more startled had he asked me to go
to the moon. “Kentucky, massa? Kentucky? I
don’t know the way.” “Oh, it’s easy enough for a
smart fellow like you to find it; I’ll give you a pass
and tell you just what to do.” Perceiving that I
hesitated, he endeavoured to frighten me by again
referring to the terrors of being sold and taken to
Georgia.
Eor two or three hours he continued to urge the
undertaking, appealing to my pride, my sympathies,
and my fears, and at last, appalling as it seemed, I
told him I would do my best. There were eighteen
negroes, besides my wife, two children, and myself
to transport nearly a thousand miles, through a
country about which I knew nothing, and in mid-
winter, for it was the month of February, 1825.
My master proposed to follow me in a few months,
and establish himself in Kentucky.


A RESPONSIBLE JOURNEY. 45
My mind once made up, I set earnestly about the
needful preparations. They were few and easily
made. A one-horse waggon, well-stocked with oats,
meal, and bacon, for our own and the horse's sup-
port, was soon made ready. My pride was aroused
in view of the importance of my responsibility, and
heart and soul I became identified with my master’s
project of running off his negroes. The second
night after the scheme was formed, we were under
way. Fortunately for the success of the undertak-
ing, these people had long been under my direction,
and were devotedly attached to me in return for the
many alleviations I had afforded to their miserable
condition, the comforts I had procured them, and
the consideration I had always manifested for them. .
Under these circumstances, no difficulty arose from
want of submission to my authority. The dread of
being separated, and sold away down south, should
they remain on the old estate, united them as one
man, and kept them patient and alert.
We started from home about eleven o'clock at
night, and till the following noon made no permanent
halt. The men trudged on foot, the children were
put into the waggon, and now and then my wife
rode for a while. On we went through Alexandria,
Culpepper, Fauquier, Harper's Ferry, Cumberland,
over the mountains on the National Turnpike to
Wheeling. In all the taverns along the road there
were regular places for the droves of negroes who
were continually passing through the country
under the care of overseers. In these we lodged,
and our lodging constituted our only expense, for our
D


- 46 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
food we carried with us. To all who asked questions
I showed my master's pass, authorising me to con-
duct his negroes to Kentucky, and often was the
encomium of “smart nigger” bestowed on me, to
my immense gratification.
At the places where we stopped for the night, we
often met negro-drivers with their droves, who were
almost uniformly kept chained to prevent them from
running away. The inquiry was often propounded
to me by the drivers, “Whose niggers are those?”
On being informed, the next inquiry usually was,
“Where are they going?” “To Kentucky.” “Who
drives them?” “Well, I have charge of them,”
was my reply. “What a smart nigger!” was the
usual exclamation, with an oath. “Will your master
sell you? Come in and stop with us.” In this way
I was often invited to pass the evening with them in
the bar-room; their negroes, in the meantime, lying
chained in the pen, while mine were scattered around
at liberty. -
Arriving at Wheeling, in pursuance of the plan
laid down by my master, I sold the horse and
waggon, and purchased a large boat, called in that
region, a yawl. Our mode of locomotion was now
decidedly more agreeable than tramping along day
after day at the rate we had kept up ever since
leaving home. Very little labour at the oars was
necessary. The tide floated us steadily along, and we
had ample leisure to sleep and recruit our strength.
A new and unexpected trouble now assailed me.
On passing along the Ohio shore, we were repeatedly
told by persons conversing with us that we were no
longer slaves but free men, if we chose to be so. At


A RESPONSIBLE JOURNEY. 47
Cincinnati, especially, crowds of coloured people
gathered round us, and insisted on our remaining
with them. They told us we were fools to think of
going on and surrendering ourselves up to a new
º, owner; that now we could be our own masters, and
put ourselves out of all reach of pursuit. I saw that
, the people under me were getting much excited.
Divided counsels and signs of insubordination began
to manifest themselves. I began, too, to feel my
own resolution giving way. Freedom had ever been
an obi ition, though no other means of
obtaining it had occurred to me but purchasing
myself. I had never dreamed of running away. I
had a sentiment of honour-on—the subject. The
duties of the slave to his master as appointed over
him in the Lord, I had ever heard urged by ministers
and religious men. Entrancing as the ideas were,
that the coast was clear for a run for freedom, that
I might liberate my companions, might carry off my
wife and children, and some day own a house and
land, and be no longer despised and abused, still my-
notions of right were against it. I had promised my
master to take his property to Kentucky, and deposit
it with his brother #. Pride, too, came in to
confirm me. I had un - at *Jºy
Vanity na or ear-
ing myself praised; I thought it would be a feather
#. it through thoroughly, and had
often painted the scene in my imagination of the
final surrender of my charge to Master Amos, and
the immense admiration and respect with which he
would regard me.
Under the influence of these impressions, and


-48 Mits. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
seeing that the allurements of the crowd were pro-
ducing a manifest effect, I sternly assumed the
captain, and ordered the boat to be pushed off into the
stream. A shower of curses followed me from the
shore; but the negroes under me, accustomed to
obey, and, alas! too degraded and ignorant of the
advantages of liberty to know what they were for-
feiting, offered no resistance to my command.
Often since that day has my soul been pierced
with bitter anguish, at the thought of having been
thus instrumental in consigning to the infernal
bondage of slavery, so many of my fellow-beings. I
have wrestled in prayer with God for forgiveness.
Having experienced myself the sweetness of liberty,
and knowing too well the after-misery of a number
of these slaves, my infatuation has often seemed to
me to have been the unpardonable sin. But Leon-
+...º.º.º-
to my bestlight, though the light that was i
darkness. Those were my days of ignorance. I
knew not then the glory of free manhood, or that the
title-deed of the slave-owner is robbery and outrage.
What advantages I may have personally lost by
thus throwing away an opportunity of obtaining
freedom! But the perception of my own strength of
character, the feeling of integrity, the sentiment of
high honour, I thus gained by obedience to what I
believed right, are advantages which I prize. He
that is faithful over a little, will be faithful over
much. Before God I tried to do my best, and the
error of judgment lies at the door of the degrading
system under which I had been nurtured.


CHAPTER VII.
A NEW HOME.
BeCOME A METHODIST PREACHER.—MY POOR COMPANIONS SOLD. –
MY AGON.Y. —SENT FOR AGAIN.—INTERVIEW WITH A KIND
METHODIST PREACHER.— VISIT FREE SOIL AND BEGIN My
STRUGGLE FOR FREEDOM.
ARRIVED at Davis county, Kentucky, about the
middle of April, 1825, and delivered myself and
my companions to my owner's brother, Mr. Amos
Riley, who had a large plantation with from eighty
to one hundred negroes. His house was situated about
five miles south of the Ohio River, and fifteen miles
above the Yellow Banks, on Big Blackfords Creek.
There I remained three years, and was employed
meantime on the farm, of which I had the general
management, in consequence of the recommendation
for ability and honesty which I brought with me
from Maryland. The situation was, in many re-
spects, more comfortable than the one I had left.
The farm was larger and more fertile, and there was
a greater abundance of food, which is, of course,
one of the principal sources of the comfort of a slave,
debarred as he is from so many enjoyments which
other men can obtain. Sufficiency of food is an im-
portant item in any man’s account of life; it is
tenfold more so in that of the slave, whose appetite


50 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
is always stimulated by his arduous labour, and whose
mind is little occupied by thought on subjects of
deeper interest. My post of superintendent gave me
some advantages, of which I did not fail to avail
myself, particularly with regard to those religious
privileges, which, since I first heard of Christ and
Christianity, had greatly occupied my mind. In
Rentucky the opportunities of attending the preach-
ing of whites, as well as of blacks, were more
numerous; and partly by attending them, and the
camp-meetings which occurred from time to time,
and partly from studying carefully my own heart,
and observing the developments of character around
me, in all the stations of life which I could watch, I
became better acquainted with those religious feel-
ings which are deeply implanted in the breast of
every human being, and learned by practice how
best to arouse them, and keep them excited, how to
stir up the callous and indifferent, and, in general,
to produce some good religious impressions on the
ignorant and thoughtless community by which I was
surrounded.
No great amount of theological knowledge is re-
quisite for the purpose. If it had been, it is manifest
enough that preaching never could have been my
vocation ; but I am persuaded that, speaking from
the fulness of a heart deeply impressed with its own
sinfulness and imperfection, and with the mercy of
God, in Christ Jesus, my humble ministrations have
not been entirely useless to those who have had less
opportunity than myself to reflect upon these all-
important subjects. It is certain that I could not


A NEW HOME. " 51
º
generated by the hateful “institution,
exhibited in its most odious and naked deformity. I
refrain from the endeavour to do what I saw others
doing in this field; and I laboured at once to improve
myself and those about me in the cultivation of the
harvests which ripen only in eternity. I cannot but
derive some satisfaction, too, from the proofs I have
had that my services have been acceptable to those
to whom they have been rendered. In the course of
three years, from 1825 to 1828, I availed myself of .
all the opportunities of improvement which occurred,
and was admitted as a preacher by a Quarterly Con-
ference of the Methodist Episcopal Church.
In the spring of the year 1828, news arrived from
my master that he was unable to induce his wife to
accompany him to Kentucky, and that he must there-
fore remain where he was. He sent out an agent to
sell all his slaves, except me and my family, and to
carry back the proceeds to him. And now another
of those heartrending scenes was to be witnessed,
which had impressed itself so deeply on my childish
soul. Husbands and wives, parents and children,
were to be separated for ever. Affections, which are
as strong in the African as in the European, were to
be cruelly disregarded; and the iron selfishness
” was to be
was exempted from a personal share in the dreadful
calamity; but I could not see without the deepest
grief, the agony of my associates. It was like that
my own mother had once manifested, when I was
separated from her for a time. I could not refrain
from feeling the bitterest hatred of the system, and
of those who sustained it. What else, indeed, could be


52 MRs. II. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
the feeling of a slave, liable at every moment of his
life to these frightful and unnecessary calamities,
which might be caused by the caprice, or the supposed
necessities of the slaveholders, and inflicted upon
him without sympathy or redress, under the sanction
of the laws which upheld the institution?
As I surveyed this scene, and listened to the
groans and outcries of my afflicted companions, my
eyes were opened, and I lamented that I had pre-
vented them from availing themselves of the oppor-
tunity for acquiring freedom which offered itself at
Cincinnati. I had only thought of being faith
; master’s interests, i nothing of º: #. :
the slaves. Oh! what would I not have given to
have had the chance offered once more! But now,
through me, were they doomed to wear out life
miserably in the hot and pestilential climate of the
far south. Death would have been welcome to me
in my agony. From that hour I saw through,
hated, and cursed the whole system of slavery. One
absorbing purpose occupied my soul—to gai -
dom, self- ion deliverance from the eruel.
caprices and fortunes of dissolute tyrants. Once to
get away, with my wife and children, to some spot
where I could feel that they were indeed mine—
where no grasping master could stand between me
and them, as arbiter of their destiny—was a heaven
yearned after with insatiable longing. For it I stood
ready to pray, toil, dissemble, plot like a fox, and
fight like a tiger. All the noble instincts of my
soul, and all the ferocious passions of my animal
nature, were aroused and quickened into vigorous
action.


A NEW HOME. - 53.
The object of my old master Riley in directing
that I and my family should be exempted from the
sale, was a desire on his part to get me back to
Maryland, and employ me in his own service. His
best farms had been taken away from him, and but a
few tracts of poor land remained, which he cultivated
with hired labour after I took his slaves, and month
by month he grew poorer and more desperate. He
had written to his brother Amos to give me a pass.
and let me travel back; but this his brother was re-
luctant to do, as I saved him the expense of an over-
seer, and he moreover was aware that no legal steps
could be taken to force him to comply. I knew of
all this, but dared not seem anxious to return, for
fear of exciting suspicion.
In the course of the summer of 1828, a Methodist
preacher, a most excellent white man, visited our
neighbourhood, and I became acquainted with him.
He was soon interested in me, and visited me fre-
quently, and one day talked to me in a confidential
manner about my position. He said, “You ought to
be free. You have too much capacity to be confined
to the limited and comparatively useless sphere of
a slave, and though it must not be known that I have
spoken to you on this subject, yet, if you will obtain
Mr. Amos's consent to go to see your old master in
Maryland, I will try and put you in a way by which
I think you may succeed in buying yourself.” He
said this to me more than once; and as it was in
harmony with all my aspirations and wishes, was
flattering to my self-esteem, and gratified my im-
patience to bring matters to a direct issue, I now
resolved to make the attempt to get the necessary


54 MRs. H. BEECHER stowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
º
leave. The autumn work was over, I was no longer
needed in the fields, and a better chance would never
offer itself. Still I dreaded to make the proposal.
So much hung on it, such fond hopes were bound up
with it, that I trembled for the result.
I opened the subject one Sunday morning while
shaving Mr. Amos, and adroitly managed, by bring-
ing the shaving brush close into his mouth whenever
he was disposed to interrupt me, to “get a good say”.
first. Of course, I made no allusion to my plan of
buying myself, but urged my request on the sole
ground of a desire to see my old master. To my
surprise, he made little objection. I had been faith-
ful to him, and gained, in his rude way of showing
it, his regard. Long before spring I would be back
again. He even told me I had earned such a privi-
lege.
The certificate he gave me, allowed me to pass and
repass between Kentucky and Maryland as servant
of Amos Riley. Furnished with this, and with a
letter of recommendation from my Methodist friend
to a brother preacher in Cincinnati, I started about
the middle of September, 1828, for the east.
A new era in my history now opened upon me.
A letter I carried with me to a kind-hearted man in
Cincinnati, procured me a number of invaluable
friends, who entered heart and soul into my plans.
They procured me an opportunity to preach in two
or three of the pulpits of the city, and I made my
appeal with that eloquence which spontaneously
breaks forth from a breast all alive and fanned into
a glow by an inspiring project. Contact with those
who were free themselves, and a proud sense of


A NEW HOME. 55
exultation in taking my destiny into my own hands,
gave me the sacred “gift of tongues.” I was plead-
ing an issue of life and death, of heaven and hell, and
such as heard me felt this in their hearts. In three or
four days I left the city with no less a sum than one
hundred and sixty dollars in my pockets, and with a
soul jubilant with thanksgiving, and high in hope,
directed my steps towards Chillicothe, to attend the
session of the Ohio Conference of the Methodist Epis-
copal Church. My kind friend accompanied me,
and, by his influence and exertions, still further suc-
cess attended me.
By his advice, I then purchased a decent suit of
clothes and an excellent horse, and travelled from
town to town, preaching as I went. Everywhere I
met with kindness. The contrast between the respect
with which I was treated and the ordinary abuse of
plantation life, gratified me in the extreme, as it
must any one who has within him one spark of per-
sonal dignity as a man. The sweet enjoyment of
sympathy, moreover, and the hearty “God speed
you, brother l’’ which accompanied every dollar I
received, were to my long-starved heart a celestial
repast, and angels' food. Liberty was a glorious
hope in my mind; not as an escape from toil, for I
rejoiced in toil when my heart was in it, but as the
avenue to a sense of self-respect, to ennobling occu-
pation, and to association with superior minds. Still,
dear as was the thought of liberty, I still clung to
my determination to gain it in one way only—by.
purchase. The cup of my affliction was not yet full
enough to lead me to disregard all terms with my
master.


CHAPTER VIII.
RETURN TO MARYLAND.
recept ION FROM MY OLD MASTER.—A SLAVE AGAIN.—APPEAI, to
AN OLD FRIEND.—BUY MY FREEDOM.–CHEATED AND BETRAYED.
—BACK TO KENTUCKY, AND A SLAVE AGAIN.
EFoRE I left Ohio and set my face towards Mont-
gomery county, I was master of two hundred
and seventy-five dollars, besides my horse and clothes.
Proud of my success, I enjoyed the thought of show-
ing myself once more in the place where I had been
known simply as “Riley's head-nigger; ” and it was
with no little satisfaction that about Christmas I
rode up to the old house. - -
My master gave me a boisterous reception, and
expressed great delight at seeing me. “What have
you been doing, Sie? you’ve turned into a regular
black gentleman.” My horse and dress sorely
puzzled him, and I soon saw they irritated him.
The clothes I wore were certainly better than his.
Very soon the workings of that tyrannical hate with
which the coarse and brutal, who have no inherent
superiority, ever regard the least sign of equality in
their dependents, were visible in his manner. His
face seemed to say, “I’ll take the gentleman out of
you pretty soon.” I gave him an account of my
preaching which was consistent with the truth, and


IRETURN TO MARYLAND. 57
explained my appearance, but did not betray to him
my principal purpose. He soon asked to see my
pass, and when he found it authorised me to return
to Kentucky, handed it to his wife, and desired her
to put it into his desk. The manoeuvre was cool and
startling. I heard the old prison-gate clang, and
the bolt shoot into the socket once more. But I said
nothing, and resolved to manoeuvre also.
After putting my horse in the stable I retired to
the kitchen, where my master told me I was to sleep
for the night. Oh, how different from my accommo-
dations in the free States, for the last three months,
was that crowded room, with its earth-floor, its filth
and stench ! I looked around me with a sensation of
disgust. The negroes present were strangers to me.
I found my mother had died during my absence, and
every tie which had ever connected me with the place
was broken. Full of gloomy reflections at my loneli-
ness, and the poverty-stricken aspect of the whole
farm, Isat down, and while my companions were snor-
ing in unconsciousness, I kept awake, thinking how I
could escape from the accursed spot. I knew of but
one friend to whom I could appeal—“Master Frank,”
the brother of Riley's wife, before mentioned, who
was now of age, and had established himself in busi-
ness in Washington. I thought he would take an
interest in me, for I had done much to lighten his
sorrows when he was an abused and harshly-treated
boy in the house. To him I resolved to go, and as
soon as I thought it time to start, I saddled my
horse and rode up to the house. It was early in the
morning, and my master had already gone to the


58 MRS. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
tavern on his usual business, when Mrs. Riley came
out to look at my horse and equipments. “Where
are you going, 'Siah P” was the natural question. I
replied, “I am going to Washington, mistress,
to see Mr. Frank, and I must take my pass with
me, if you please.” “Oh, everybody knows you
here; you won’t need your pass.” “But I can’t
go to Washington without it. I may be met by
some surly stranger, who will stop me and plague
me, if he can’t do anything worse.” “Well, I'll
get it for you,” she answered; and glad I was to see
her return with it in her hand, and to have her give
it to me, while she little imagined its importance to
my plan.
My reception by Master Frank was all I expected,
as kind and hearty as possible. He was delighted at
my appearance, and I immediately told him all my
plans and hopes. He entered cordially into them,
and expressed a strong sympathy for me. I found
that he thoroughly detested Riley, whom he charged
with having defrauded him of a large proportion of
his property which he had held as guardian, though,
as he was not at warfare with him, he readily agreed
to negotiate for my freedom, and bring him to the
most favourable terms. Accordingly, in a few days
he rode over to the house, and had a long conversa-
tion with him on the subject of my emancipation.
He disclosed to him the facts that I had got some
money and my pass, and urged that I was a smart
fellow, who was bent upon getting his freedom, and
nad served the family faithfully for many years;
that I had really paid for myself a hundred times


RETURN TO MARYLAND. 59.
over, in the increased amount of produce I had raised
by my skill and influence; and that if he did not
take care, and accept a fair offer when I made it to
him, he would find some day that I had the means
to do without his help, and that he would see neither
me nor my money; that with my horse and my
pass I was pretty independent of him already, and
he had better make up his mind to do what was
really inevitable, and do it with a good grace. By
such arguments as these, Mr. Frank not only induced
him to think of the thing, but before long brought
him to an actual bargain, by which he agreed to
give me my manumission-papers for four hundred
and fifty dollars, of which three hundred and fifty
dollars were to be in cash, and the remainder in my
note. My money and my horse enabled me to pay
the cash at once, and thus my great hope seemed in
a fair way of being realised.
Some time was spent in the negotiation of this
affair, and it was not until the 9th of March, 1829,
that I received my manumission-papers in due form .
of law. I prepared to start at once on my return to
Rentucky; and on the 10th, as I was getting ready,
in the morning, for my journey, my master accosted
me in the most friendly manner, and entered into
conversation with me about my plans. He asked me
what I was going to do with my certificate of free-
dom; whether I was going to show it, if questioned
on the road. I told him, “Yes.” “You’ll be a fool
if you do,” he rejoined. “Some slave-trader will
get hold of it, and tear it up, and you'll be thrown
into prison, sold for your jail-fees, and be in his


60 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
possession before any of your friends can help you. .
Don't show it at all. Your pass is enough. Let
me enclose your papers for you under cover to my
brother. Nobody will dare to break a seal, for that
is a state-prison matter; and when you arrive in
Rentucky you will have it with you all safe and
sound.”
For this friendly advice, as I thought it, I felt
extremely grateful. Secure in my happiness, I
cherished no suspicion of others. I accordingly
permitted him to enclose my precious papers in an
envelope composed of several wrappers, and after he
had sealed it with three seals, and directed it to his
brother in Davies county, Kentucky, he gave it to
me, and I carefully stowed it in my carpet-bag.
Leaving immediately for Wheeling, to which place
I was obliged to travel on foot, I there took boat,
and in due time reached my destination. I was
arrested repeatedly on the way; but by insisting
always on being carried before a magistrate, I suc-
ceeded in escaping all serious impediments by means
of my pass, which was quite regular, and could not
be set aside by any responsible authority.
The boat which took me down from Louisville,
landed me about dark, and my walk of five miles
brought me to the plantation at bedtime. I went
directly to my own cabin, and found my wife and
little ones well. Of course we had enough to com-
municate to each other. I soon found that I had
something to learn as well as to tell. Letters had
reached the “great house,”—as the master's was
always called,—long before I arrived, telling them


RETURN TO MARYLAND. 61
what I had been doing. The children of the family
had eagerly communicated the good news to my wife
—how I had been preaching, and raising money,
and making a bargain for my freedom. It was not
long before Charlotte began to question me, with
much excitement, how I had raised the money. She
evidently thought I had stolen it. Her opinion of
my powers as a preacher was not exalted enough to
permit her to believe I had gained it as I really
did. I contrived, however, to quiet her fears on
this score. “But how are you going to raise enough
to pay the remainder of the thousand dollars?”
“What thousand dollars?” “The thousand dollars
you are to give for your freedom.” Oh, how those
words smote me! At once I suspected treachery.
Again and again I questioned her as to what she
had heard. She persisted in repeating the same
story as the substance of my master's letters. Master
Amos said I had paid three hundred and fifty dollars
down, and when I had made up six hundred and
fifty more I was to have my free papers. I now
began to perceive the trick that had been played
upon me, and to see the management by which Riley
had contrived that the only evidence of my freedom
should be kept from every eye but that of his brother
Amos, who was requested to retain it until I had
made up the balance I was reported to have agreed
to pay. Indignation is a faint word to express my
deep sense of such villainy. I was alternately beside
myself with rage, and paralysed with despair. My
dream of bliss was over. What could I do to set
myself right P. The only witness to the truth,
- E


62 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
Master Frank, was a thousand miles away. I could
neither write to him, nor get any one else to write.
Every man about me who could write was a slave-
holder. I dared not go before a magistrate with my
papers, for fear I should be seized and sold down the
river before anything could be done. I felt that
every white man’s hand was against me. “My God!
my God! why hast Thou forsaken me?” was my
bitter cry. One thing only seemed clear. My
papers must never be surrendered to Master Amos.
I told my wife I had not seen them since I left
Louisville. They might be in my bag, or they
might be lost. At all events I did not wish to look
myself. If she found them there, and hid them
away, out of my knowledge, it would be the best
disposition to make of them.
The next morning, at the blowing of the horn, I
went out to find Master Amos. I found him sitting
on a stile, and as I drew near enough for him to
recognise me, he shouted out a hearty welcome in
his usual style. “Why, halloa, Sie! is that you?
Got back, eh? I’m glad to see you ! why, you’re a
regular black gentleman ” And he surveyed my
dress with an appreciative grin. “Well, boy, how’s
your master P Isaac says you want to be free.
Want to be free, eh? I think your master treats
you pretty hard, though. Six hundred and fifty
dollars don’t come so easy in old Kentuck. How
does he ever expect you to raise all that ? It's too
much, boy, it's too much.” In the conversation that
followed I found my wife was right. Riley had no
idea of letting me off, and supposed I could never


RETURN TO MARYLAND, 63
raise the six hundred and fifty dollars if his brother
obtained possession of me.
Master Amos soon asked me if I had not a paper
for him. I told him I had had one, but the last Isaw
of it was at Louisville, and now it was not in my
bag, and I did not know what had become of it. He
sent me back to the landing to see if it had been
dropped on the way. Of course I did not find it.
He made, however, little stir about it, for he had
intentions of his own to keep me working for him,
and regarded the whole as a trick of his brother's
to get money out of me. All he said about the loss
was, “Well, boy, bad luck happens to everybody,
sometimes.” -
All this was very smooth and pleasant to a man
who was in a frenzy of grief at the base and ap-
parently irremediable trick that had been played
upon him. I had supposed that I should soon be
free to start out and gain the hundred dollars which
would discharge my obligation to my master. But
I perceived that I was to begin again with my old
labours. It was useless to give expression to my
feelings, and I went about my work with as quiet
a mind as I could, resolved to trust in God, and
never despair.


CHAPTER IX.
TAKEN SOUTH, AWAY FROM WIFE AND
CHILDREN.
START FOR NEW ORLEANS.–STUDY NAVIGATION ON THE MISSISSIPPI,
—THE CAPTAIN STRUCK BLIND.—FIND SOME OF MY OLD COM-
PANIONS.—THE LOWER DEPTHS. -
HINGs went on in this way about a year. From
time to time Master Amos joked me about the
six hundred and fifty dollars, and said his brother
kept writing to know why I did not send something.
It was “diamond cut diamond” with the two
brothers. Mr. Amos had no desire to play into the
hands of Mr. Isaac. He was glad enough to secure
my services to take care of his stock and his people.
One day my master suddenly informed me that
his son Amos, a young man about twenty-one years
of age, was going down the river to New Orleans,
with a flat-boat loaded with produce from the farm,
and that I was to go with him. He was to start the
next day, and I was to accompany him and help him
dispose of his cargo to the best advantage.
This intimation was enough. Though it was not
distinctly stated, yet I well knew what was in-
tended, and my heart sunk within me at the pros-
pect of this fatal blight to all my long-cherished
hopes. There was no alternative but death itself;


TAKEN SOUTH, Away FROM wife AND CHILDREN. 65
still I thought that there was hope as long as there
was life, and I would not despair even yet. The ex-
pectation of my fate, however, produced the degree
of misery nearest to that of despair, and it is in vain
for me to attempt to describe the wretchedness I ex-
perienced as I made ready to go on board the flat-
boat. I had little preparation to make, to be sure;
but there was one thing that seemed to me im-
portant. I asked my wife to sew my manumission-
paper securely in a piece of cloth, and to sew that
again round my person. I thought that its posses-
sion might be the means of saving me yet, and I
would not neglect anything that offered the smallest
chance of escape from the frightful servitude with
which I was threatened.
The immediate cause of this movement on the
part of Master Amos I never fully understood. It
grew out of a frequent exchange of letters, which
had been kept up between him and his brother in
Maryland. Whether as a compromise between their
rival claims it was agreed to sell me and divide the
proceeds, or that Master Amos, in fear of my run-
ning away, had resolved to turn me into riches
without wings, for his own profit, I never knew.
The fact of his intention, however, was clear enough;
and God knows it was a fearful blow.
My wife and children accompanied me to the
landing, where I bade them an adieu which might
be for life, and then stepped into the boat, manned
by three white men, who had been hired for the trip.
Mr. Amos and myself were the only other persons
on board. The load consisted of beef-cattle, pigs,
****


66 MRS. H. BEECHER STowe's “ UNCLE TOM.”
**
poultry, corn, whisky, and other articles which were to
be sold as we dropped down the river, wherever they
could be disposed of to the greatest advantage. It
was a common trading-voyage to New Orleans, the
interest of which consisted not in the incidents that
occurred, not in storms, shipwreck, or external
disaster of any sort; but in the storm of passions
contending within me, and the imminent risk of the
shipwreck of my soul, which was impending over
me nearly the whole period of the voyage. One
circumstance, only, I will mention, illustrating, as
other events in my life have often done, the counsel
of the Saviour, “He that will be chief among you,
let him be your servant.”
We were all bound to take our turn at the helm,
sometimes under direction of the captain, and some-
times on our own responsibility, as he could not be
always awake. In the daytime there was less diffi-
culty than at night, when it required some one who
knew how to avoid sandbars and snags in the river;
the captain was the only person on board who had
this knowledge. But whether by day or by night,
as I was the only negro in the boat, I was compelled
to stand at least three turns at the helm to any other
person’s one; so that, from being much with the
captain, and frequently thrown upon my own exer-
tions, I learned the art of steering and managing
the boat far better than the rest. I watched the
manoeuvres necessary to shoot by a “sawyer,” to
land on a bank, avoid a snag, or a steamboat, in the
rapid current of the Mississippi, till I could do it as
well as the captain. After a while, he was attacked


TAKEN SOUTH, Away FROM wife AND CHILDREN. 67
by a disease of the eyes; they became very much
inflamed and swollen. He was soon rendered totally
blind, and unable to perform his share of duty. I
was the person who could best take his place, and I
was in fact master of the boat from that time till
our arrival at New Orleans.
After the captain º, blind, we were obliged
to lie by at night, as none of the rest of us had
been down the river before; and it was necessary to
keep watch all night, to prevent depredations by the
negroes on shore, who used frequently to attack such
boats as ours, for the sake of the provisions on board.
On our way down the river we stopped at Vicks-
burg, and I got permission to visit a plantation a
few miles from the town, where some of my old
companions whom I had brought from Kentucky
were living. It was the saddest visit I ever made.
Four years in an unhealthy climate and under a hard
master had done the ordinary work of twenty. Their
cheeks were literally caved in with starvation and
disease. They described their daily life, which was to
toil half-naked in malarious marshes, under a burning,
maddening sun, exposed to poison of mosquitoes and
black gnats, and they said they looked forward to
death as their only deliverance. Some of them
fairly cried at seeing me there, and at the thought
of the fate which they felt awaited me. Their worst
fears of being sold down South had been more than
realised. I went away sick at heart, and to this day
the remembrance of that wretched group haunts me


CHAPTER X.
A TERRIBLE TEMPTATION.
SIGH FOR DEATH.-A MURDER IN MY HEART.--THE AXE RAISED.-
CONSCIENCE SPEAKs AND I AM SAVED.—GOD BE PRAISED !
LL outward nature seemed to feed my gloomy
thoughts. I know not what most men see in
voyaging down the Mississippi. If gay and hopeful,
probably much of beauty and interest. If eager
merchants, probably a golden river, freighted with
the wealth of nations. I saw nothing but portents
of woe and despair. Wretched slave-pens; a smell
of stagnant waters; half-putrid carcases of horses
or oxen floating along, covered with turkey-buzzards
and swarms of green flies, these are the images
with which memory crowds my mind. My faith in
God utterly gave way. I could no longer pray or
trust. I thought He had abandoned me and cast me
off for ever. I looked not to Him for help. I saw
only the foul miasmas, the emaciated frames of my
negro companions; and in them saw the sure, swift,
loving intervention of the one unfailing friend of the
wretched,—death ! Yes; death and the gravel
“There the wicked cease from troubling, and the
weary are at rest. There the prisoners rest together;
they hear not the voice of the oppressor.” Two
years of this would kill me. I dwelt on the thought


A TERRIBLE TEMPTATION. 69
with melancholy yet sweet satisfaction. Two years 1
and then I should be free. Free! ever my cherished
hope, though not as I had thought it would come.
As I paced backwards and forwards on the deck,
during my watch, I revolved in my mind many a
painful and passionate thought. After all that I had
done for Isaac and Amos Riley, after all the regard
they had professed for me, such a return as this for
my services, such an evidence of their utter disregard
of my claims upon them, and the intense selfishness
with which they were ready to sacrifice me, at any
moment, to their supposed interest, turned my blood
to gall, and changed me from a lively, and, I will
say, a pleasant-tempered fellow, into a savage,
morose, dangerous slave. I was going not at all as
a lamb to the slaughter; but I felt myself becoming
more ferocious every day; and as we approached the
place where this iniquity was to be consummated, I
became more and more agitated with an almost un-
controllable fury. I said to myself, “If this is to be
my lot, I cannot survive it long. I am not so young
as those whose wretched condition I have but just
seen, and if it has brought them to such a condition,
it will soon kill me. I am to be taken to a place and
a condition where my life is to be shortened, as well
as made more wretched. Why should I not prevent
this wrong if I can, by shortening the lives of those
who intend to accomplish such injustice P I can do
the last easily enough. They have no suspicion of
me, and they are at this moment under my control,
and in my power. There are many ways in which I
can dispatch them and escape; and I feel that I


70 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
* -
should be justified in availing myself of the first
good opportunity.” These, thoughts did not flit
across my mind's eye and then disappear, but they
fashioned themselves into shapes which grew larger
and seemed firmer every time they presented them-
selves; at length my mind was made up to convert
the phantom-shadows into a positive reality.
I resolved to kill my four companions, take what
money there was in the boat, scuttle the craft, and
escape to the north. It was a poor plan, maybe, and
would very likely have failed; but it was as well
contrived, under the circumstances, as the plans of
murderers usually are. Blinded by passion, and stung
to madness as I was, I could not see any difficulty
about it. One dark, rainy night, within a few days’
sail of New Orleans, my hour seemed to have come.
I was alone on the deck, Master Amos and the
hands were all asleep below, and I crept down noise-
lessly, got hold of an axe, entered the cabin, and
looking by the aid of the dim light there for my
victims, my eyes fell upon Master Amos, who was
nearest to me, my hand slid along the axe-handle,
I raised it to strike the fatal blow, when suddenly
the thought came to me, “What I commit murder *
and you a Christian P” I had not called it murder
before, but self-defence, to prevent others from
murdering me. I thought it was justifiable, and
even praiseworthy. All at once the truth burst
upon me that it was a crime. I was going to kill a
young man who had done nothing to injure me, but
was only obeying the commands of his father. I
was about to lose the fruit of all my efforts at self-


-
-
A TERRIBLE TEMPTATION. 71 .
improvement, the character I had acquired, and the
peace of mind that had never deserted me. All this
came upon me with a distinctness which almost
made me think I heard it whispered in my ear; and
I believe I even turned my head to listen. I shrunk
back, laid down the axe, and thanked God, as I have
done every day since, that I did not commit that
murder. º
My feelings were still agitated, but they were
changed. I was filled with shame and remorse for
the design I had entertained, and fearing that my
companions would detect it in my face, or that a
careless word would betray my guilty thoughts, I
remained on deck all night, instead of rousing one
of the men to relieve the watch, and nothing brought
composure to my mind but the solemn resolution I
then made, to resign myself to the will of God, and
take with thankfulness, if I could, but with sub-
mission, at all events, whatever He might decide
should be my lot. I reflected that if my life were
reduced to a brief term, I should have less to suffer;
that it was better to die with a Christian's hope, and
a quiet conscience, than to live with the incessant
recollection of a crime that would destroy the value
of life, and under the weight of a secret that would
crush out the satisfaction that might be expected
from freedom and every other blessing.
It was long before I recovered my self-control and
serenity. Yet I believe that no one but those to
whom I have told the story myself, ever suspected
me of having entertained such thoughts for a
moment.


CHAPTER XI,
PROVIDENTIAL IDELIVERANCE.
of FERED FOR SALE.-EXAMINED BY PURCHASERS.-PLEAD WITH
My YouNG MASTER IN VAIN.—MAN's ExTREMITY, GoD's opport-
TUNITY..—GOOD FOR EVIL.-RETURN NORTH...-MY INCREASED
VALUE.-RESOLVE TO BE A SLAVE NO LONGER.
Is a few days after this trying crisis in my life, we
arrived at New Orleans. The little that re-
mained of our cargo was soon sold, the men were
discharged, and nothing was left but to dispose of
me, and break up the boat, and then Master Amos
intended to take passage on a steamboat, and go
home. There was no longer any disguise about the
disposition which was to be made of me. Master
Amos acknowledged that such were his instructions,
and he set about fulfilling them. Several planters
came to the boat to look at me; I was sent on some
hasty errand that they might see how I could run;
my points were canvassed as those of a horse would
have been ; and, doubtless, some account of my
various faculties entered into the discussion of the
bargain, that my value as a domestic animal might
be enhanced. Master Amos had talked, with ap-
parent kindness, about getting me a good master who
would employ me as a coachman, or as a house-


PROVIDENTIAL DELIVERANCE. 73
servant; but as time passed on I could discern no
particular effort of the kind.
In our intervals of leisure I tried every possible
means to move his heart. With tears and groans I
besought him not to sell me away from my wife and
children. I dwelt on my past services to his father,
and called to his remembrance a thousand things I
had done for him personally. I told him about the
wretched condition of the slaves I had seen near
Vicksburg. Sometimes he would shed tears himself,
and say he was sorry for me. But still I saw his
purpose was unchanged. He now kept out of my
way as much as possible, and forestalled every effort
I made to talk with him. His conscience evidently
troubled him. He knew he was doing a cruel and
wicked thing, and wanted to escape from thinking
about it. I followed him up hard, for I was suppli-
cating for my life. I fell down and clung to his
knees in entreaties. Sometimes when too closely
pressed, he would curse and strike me. May God
forgive him lº And yet it was not all his fault; he
was made so by the accursed relation of slave-master
and slave. I was property,+not a man, not a father,
not a husband. And the laws of property and self-
interest, not of humanity and love, bore sway.
At length everything was wound up but this
single affair. I was to be sold the next day, and
Master Amos was to set off on his return in a steam-
boat at six o'clock in the afternoon. I could not
sleep that night; its hours seemed interminably
long, though it was one of the shortest of the year.
The slow way in which we had come down had


74 MRS. H. BEECHER STOWE’s “UNCLE TOM.”
brought us to the long days and heats of June; and
everybody knows what the climate of New Orleans
is at that period of the year. **
And now occurred one of those sudden, marked
interpositions of Providence, by which in a moment,
the whole current of a human being's life is changed;
one of those slight and, at first, unappreciated con-
tingencies, by which the faith that man's extremity
is God’s opportunity is kept alive. Little did I
think, when just before daylight Master Amos called
me and told me he felt sick, how much my future
was bound up in those few words. His stomach was
disordered, and I advised him to lie down again,
thinking it would soon pass off. Before long he felt
worse, and it was soon evident that the river-fever
was upon him. He became rapidly ill, and by eight
o'clock in the morning was utterly prostrate. The
tables were now turned. I was no longer property,
no longer a brute-beast to be bought and sold, but
his only friend in the midst of strangers. Oh, how
different was his tone from what it had been the day
before 1 . He was now the supplicant, a poor, terrified
object, afraid of death, and writhing with pain; there
lay the late arbiter of my destiny. How he besought
me to forgive him! “Stick to me, Sie! Stick to me,
Sie! Don’t leave me, don’t leaveme. I’m sorry I was
going to sell you.” Sometimes he would say he had
only been joking, and never intended to part with me.
Yes, the tables were utterly turned. He entreated
me to dispatch matters, sell the flat-boat in which
we had been living, and get him and his trunk, con-
taining the proceeds of the trip, on board the steamer


PROVIDENTIAL DELIVERANCE. 75
as quickly as possible. I attended to all his requests,
and by twelve o’clock that day, he was in one of
the cabins of the steamer appropriated to sick
passengers.
O my God! how my heart sang jubilees of praise
to Thee, as the steamboat swung loose from the levee
and breasted the mighty tide of the Mississippi 1
Away from this land of bondage and death! Away
from misery and despairl Once more exulting hope
possessed me, and I thought, if I do not now find my
way to freedom, may God never give me a chance
again!
Before we had proceeded many hours on our
voyage, my young master appeared to be better.
The change of air in a measure revived him; and
well it was for him that such was the case. Short
as his illness had been, the fever had raged like a
fire, and he was already near death. I watched and
nursed him like a mother; for all remembrance of
personal wrong was obliterated at the sight of his
peril. His eyes followed me in entreaty wherever I
went. His strength was so entirely gone, that he
could neither speak nor move a limb, and could only
indicate his wish for a teaspoonful of gruel, or some-
thing to moisten his throat, by a feeble motion of
his lips. I nursed him carefully and constantly.
Nothing else could have saved his life. It hung by
a thread for a long time. We were twelve days in
reaching home, for the water was low at that season,
particularly in the Ohio River; and when we arrived
at our landing, he was still unable to speak, and
could only be moved on a litter. Something of this


76 MRS. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
sort was fixed up at the landing, on which he could
be carried to the house, which was five miles off;
and I got a party of the slaves belonging to the
estate to form relays for the purpose. As we ap-
proached the house, the surprise at seeing me back
again, and the perplexity to imagine what I was
bringing along, with such a party, were extreme;
but the discovery was soon made which explained
the strange appearance; and the grief of father and
mother, brothers and sisters, made itself seen and
heard. Loud and long were the lamentations over
poor Amos; and when the family came a little to
themselves, great were the commendations bestowed
upon me for my care of him and of the property.
Although we reached home by the 10th of July,
it was not until the middle of August that Master
Amos was well enough to leave his chamber. To do
him justice, he manifested strong gratitude towards
me. Almost his first words after recovering his
strength sufficiently to talk, were in commendation
of my conduct. “If I had sold him I should have
died.” On the rest of the family no permanent im-
pression seemed to have been made. The first few
words of praise were all I ever received. I was set
at my old work. My merits, whatever they were,
instead of exciting sympathy or any feeling of at-
tachment to me, seemed only to enhance my market-
value in their eyes. I saw that my master's only
thought was to render me profitable to himself.
From him I had nothing to hope, and I turned my
thoughts to myself and my own energies.
Before long I felt assured another attempt would


PROVIDENTIAL DELIVERANCE. 77
be made to dispose of me. Providence seemed to
have interfered once to defeat the scheme, but I
could not expect such extraordinary circumstances to
be repeated; and I was bound to do everything in
my power to secure myself and my family from the
wicked conspiracy of Isaac and Amos Riley against
my life, as well as against my natural rights, and
those which I had acquired, even under the bar-
barous laws of slavery, by the money I had paid for
myself. If Isaac had only been honest enough to
adhere to his bargain, I would have adhered to mine,
and paid him all I had promised. But his attempt
to kidnap me again, after having pocketed three-
fourths of my market value, in my opinion, absolved
me from all obligation to pay him any more, or to
continue in a position which exposed me to his
machinations.


CHAPTER XII.
ESCAPE FROM BONDAGE.
SOLITARY MUSINGS.-PREPARATIONS FOR FLIGHT.-A LONG GOOD
NIGHT TO MASTER.-A. DARE NIGHT ON THE RIWER.—NIGHT
JOURNEYS IN INDIAN.A.—ON THE BRINK OF STARVATION.—A
KIND WOMAN.—A NEW STYLE OF DRINKING CUP.-REACH
CINCINNATI.
URING the bright and hopeful days I spent in
Ohio, while away on my preaching tour, I had
heard much of the course pursued by fugitives from
slavery, and became acquainted with a number of
benevolent men engaged in helping them on their
way. Canada was often spoken of as the only sure
refuge from pursuit, and that blessed land was now
the desire of my longing heart. Infinite toils and
perils lay between me and that haven of promise,
enough to daunt the stoutest heart; but the fire
behind me was too hot and fierce to let me pause to
consider them. I knew the North Star—blessed be
God for setting it in the heavens ! Like the Star of
Bethlehem, it announced where my salvation, lay.
Could I follow it through forest, and stream, and
field, it would guide my feet in the way of hope. I
thought of it as my God-given guide to the land of
promise far away beneath its light. I knew that it
had led thousands of my poor, hunted brethren to


ESCAPE FROM BONDAGE. 79
freedom and blessedness. I felt energy enough in
my own breast to contend with privation and
danger; and had I been a free, untrammelled man,
knowing no tie of father or husband, and concerned
for my own safety only, I would have felt all difficul-
ties light in view of the hope that was set before me.
But, alas! I had a wife and four dear children; how
should I provide for them P Abandon them I could
not; no l not even for the blessed boon of freedom.
They, too, must go. They, too, must share with me
the life of liberty. - -
It was not without long thought upon the subject
that I devised a plan of escape. But at last I
matured it. My mind fully made up, I communi-
cated the intention to my wife. She was over-
whelmed with terror. With a woman's instinct she
clung to hearth and home. She knew nothing of
the wide world beyond, and her imagination peopled
it with unseen horrors. She said, “We shall die in
the wilderness, we shall be hunted down with blood-
hounds; we shall be brought back and whipped to
death.” With tears and supplications she besought
me to remain at home, contented. In vain I ex-
plained to her our liability to be torn asunder at any
moment; the horrors of the slavery I had lately
seen; the happiness we should enjoy together in a
land of freedom, safe from all pursuing harm. She
had not suffered the bitterness of my lot, nor felt the
same longing for deliverance. She was a poor,
timid, unreasoning slave-woman.
I argued the matter with her at various times, till
I was satisfied that argument alone would not pre-


80 MRs. H. BEECHER stowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
vail. I then told her deliberately, that though it
would be a cruel trial for me to part with her, I
would nevertheless do it, and take all the children
with me except the youngest, rather than remain at
home, only to be forcibly torn from her, and sent
down to linger out a wretched existence in the dens I
had lately visited. Again she wept and entreated,
but I was sternly resolute. The whole night long
she fruitlessly urged me to relent; exhausted and
maddened, I left her, in the morning, to go to my
work for the day. Before I had gone far, I heard
her voice calling me, and waiting till I came up, she
said, at last, she would go with me. Blessed relief! .
my tears of joy flowed faster than had hers of grief.
Our cabin, at this time, was near the landing.
The plantation itself extended the whole five miles
from the house to the river. There were several
distinct farms, all of which I was overseeing, and
therefore I was riding about from one to another
every day. Our oldest boy was at the house with
Master Amos; the rest of the children were with my
wife.
The chief practical difficulty that had weighed
upon my mind, was connected with the youngest two
of the children. They were of three and two years
respectively, and of course would have to be carried.
Both stout and healthy, they were a heavy burden,
and my wife had declared that I should break down
under it before I had got five miles from home.
Sometime previously I had directed her to make me
a large knapsack of tow-cloth, large enough to hold
them both, and arranged with strong straps to go


ESCAPE FROM BONDAGE. 81
round my shoulders. This done, I had practised
carrying them night after night, both to test my
own strength and accustom them to submit to it.
To them it was fine fun, and to my great joy I
found I could manage them successfully. My wife's
consent was given on Thursday morning, and I
resolved to start on the night of the following
Saturday. Sunday was a holiday; on Monday and
Tuesday I was to be away on farms distant from the
house; thus several days would elapse before Ishould
be missed, and by that time I should have got a
good start. *
At length the eventful night arrived. All things
were ready, with the single exception that I had not
yet obtained my master's permission for little Tom
to visit his mother. About sundown I went up to
the great house to report my work, and after talking
for a time, started off, as usual, for home; when,
suddenly appearing to recollect something I had
forgotten, I turned carelessly back, and said, “Oh,
Master Amos, I most forgot. Tom's mother wants
to know if you won't let him come down a few days;
she wants to mend his clothes and fix him up a
little.” “Yes, boy, yes; he can go.” “Thankee,
Master Amos; good night, good night. The Lord
bless you!” In spite of myself I threw a good
deal of emphasis into my farewell. I could not refrain
from an inward chuckle at the thought—how long a
good night that will be 1 The coast was all clear
now, and, as I trudged along home, I took an affec-
tionate look at the well-known objects on my way.
Strange to say, sorrow mingled with my joy; but


82 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
no man can live long anywhere without feeling some
attachment to the soil on which he labours.
It was about the middle of September, and by nine
o'clock all was ready. It was a dark, moonless night,
when we got into the little skiff, in which I had
induced a fellow-slave to set us across the river. It
was an anxious moment. We sat still as death. In
the middle of the stream the good fellow said to me,
“It will be the end of me if this is ever found out;
but you won’t be brought back alive, Sie, will you?”
“Not if I can help it,” I replied; and I thought of
the pistols and knife I had bought some time before
of a poor white. “And if they’re too many for you,
and you get seized, you’ll never tell my part in this
business?” “Not if I’m shot through like a sieve.”
“That's all,” said he, “and God help you.” Heaven
reward him. He, too, has since followed in my steps;
and many a time in a land of freedom have we talked
over that dark night on the river.
In due time we landed on the Indiana shore. A
hearty, grateful farewell was spoken, such as none
but companions in danger can utter, and I heard the
oars of the skiff propelling him home. There I
stood in the darkness, my dear ones with me, and
the dim unknown future before us. But there was
little time for reflection. Before daylight should
come on, we must put as many miles behind us as
possible, and be safely hidden in the woods. We
had no friends to look to for assistance, for the
population in that section of the country was then
bitterly hostile to the fugitive. If discovered, we
should be seized and lodged in jail. In God was our


ESCAPE FROM BONDAGE. 83
only hope. Fervently did I pray to Him as we
trudged on cautiously and stealthily, as fast as the
darkness and the feebleness of my wife and boys
would allow. To her, indeed, I was compelled to
talk sternly; she trembled like a leaf, and even then
implored me to return.
For a fortnight we pressed steadily on, keeping to
the road during the night, hiding whenever a chance
vehicle or horseman was heard, and during the day
burying ourselves in the woods. Our provisions
were rapidly giving out. Two days before reaching
Cincinnati they were utterly exhausted. All night
long the children cried with hunger, and my poor
wife loaded me with reproaches for bringing them
into such misery. It was a bitter thing to hear
them cry, and God knows I needed encouragement
myself. My limbs were weary, and my back and
shoulders raw with the burden I carried. A fearful
dread of detection ever pursued me, and I would
start out of my sleep in terror, my heart beating
against my ribs, expecting to find the dogs and
slave-hunters after me. Had I been alone, I would
have borne starvation, even to exhaustion, before I
would have ventured in sight of a house in quest of
food. But now something must be done; it was
necessary to run the risk of exposure by daylight
upon the road.
The only way to proceed was to adopt a bold
course. Accordingly, I left our hiding-place, took
to the road, and turned towards the south, to lull
any suspicion that might be aroused were I to be
seen going the other way. Before long I came to a


84 MRS. H. BEECHER STowe’s “ UNCLE TOM.”
house. A furious dog rushed out at me, and his
master following to quiet him, I asked if he would
sell me a little bread and meat. He was a surly
fellow. “No, I have nothing for niggers!” At
the next, I succeeded no better, at first. The man
of the house met me in the same style; but his wife,
hearing our conversation, said to her husband,
“How can you treat any human being so P. If a dog
was hungry I would give him something to eat.”
She then added, “We have children, and who knows
but they may some day need the help of a friend.”
The man laughed and told her that if she took care
of niggers, he wouldn't. She asked me to come in,
loaded a plate with venison and bread, and, when I
laid it into my handkerchief, and put a quarter of a
dollar on the table, she quietly took it up and put it
in my handkerchief, with an additional quantity of
venison. I felt the hot tears roll down my cheeks as
she said, “God bless you; ” and I hurried away to
bless my starving wife and little ones.
A little while after eating the venison, which was
quite salt, the children became very thirsty, and
groaned and sighed so that I went off stealthily,
breaking the bushes to keep my path, to find water.
I found a little rill, and drank a large draught.
Then I tried to carry some in my hat; but, alas ! it
leaked. Finally, I took off both shoes, which luckily
had no holes in them, rinsed them out, filled them
with water, and carried it to my family. They drank
it with great delight. I have since then sat at
splendidly-furnished tables in Canada, the United


ESCAPE FROM BONDAGE. 85
States, and England; but never did I see any human
beings relish anything more than my poor famishing
little ones did that refreshing draught out of their
father's shoes. That night we made a long run, and
two days afterwards we reached Cincinnati.


CHAPTER XIII.
JOURNEY TO CANADA.
GOOD SAMARITANS.-ALONE In THE WILDErxless.-Meet SoMr.
INDIANS.—REACHI SANDUSKY. —ANOTHER FRIEND.—ALL ABOARD.
—BUFFALO.—A “FREE NIGGER.”—FRENZY OF JOY ON REACHING
CANADA.
Now felt comparatively at home. Before entering
the town I hid my wife and children in the
woods, and then walked on alone in search of my
friends. They welcomed me warmly, and just after
dusk my wife and children were brought in, and we
found ourselves hospitably cheered and refreshed.
Two weeks of exposure to incessant fatigue, anxiety,
rain, and chill, made it indescribably sweet to enjoy
once more the comfort of rest and shelter.
I have sometimes heard harsh and bitter words
spoken of those devoted men who were banded
together to succour and bid God speed to the hunted
fugitive; men who, through pity for the suffering,
voluntarily exposed themselves to hatred, fines, and
imprisonment. If there be a God who will have
mercy on the merciful, great will be their reward.
In the great day when men shall stand in judgment
before the Divine Master, crowds of the outcast and
forsaken of earth, will gather around them, and in
joyful tones bear witness, “We were hungry and ye


JOURNEY TO CANADA. 87
gave us meat, thirsty and ye gave us drink, naked
and ye clothed us, sick and ye visited us.” And He
Who has declared that, “inasmuch as ye have done
it unto the least of these My brethren, ye have done
it unto Me,” will accept the attestation, and hail
them with His welcome, “Come ye blessed of My
Father.” Their glory shall yet be proclaimed from
the house-tops, and may that “peace of God which
the world can neither give nor take away” dwell
richly in their hearts -
Among such as those—good Samaritans, of whom
the Lord would say, “Go ye and do likewise,”—our
lot was now cast. Carefully they provided for our
welfare until our strength was recruited, and then
they set us thirty miles on our way by waggon.
We followed the same course as before—travelling
by night and resting by day—till we arrived at the
Scioto, where we had been told we should strike the
military road of General Hull, made in the last war
with Great Britain, and might then safely travel by
day. We found the road, accordingly, by the large
sycamore and elms which marked its beginning, and
entered upon it with fresh spirits early in the day.
Nobody had told us that it was cut through the
wilderness, and I had neglected to provide any food,
thinking we should soon come to some habitation,
where we could be supplied. But we travelled on
all day without seeing one, and lay down at night,
hungry and weary enough. The wolves were howling
around us, and though too cowardly to approach,
their noise terrified my poor wife and children.
Nothing remained to us in the morning but a little


88 MRS. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
piece of dried beef, too little, indeed, to satisfy our
cravings, but enough to afflict us with intolerable
thirst. I divided most of this amongst us, and then
we started for a second day's tramp in the wilder-
ness. A painful day it was to us. The road was
rough, the underbrush tore our clothes and exhausted
our strength; trees that had been blown down,
blocked the way; we were faint with hunger, and no
prospect of relief opened up before us. We spoke
little, but steadily struggled along; I with my babes
on my back, my wife aiding the two other children
to climb over the fallen trunks and force themselves
through the briers. Suddenly, as I was plodding
along a little ahead of my wife and the boys, I heard
them call me, and turning round saw my wife pros-
trate on the ground. “Mother’s dying,” cried Tom;
and when I reached her, it seemed really so. From
sheer exhaustion she had fallen in surmounting a
log. Distracted with anxiety, I feared she was gone.
For some minutes no sign of life was manifest; but
after a time she opened her eyes, and finally recover-
ing enough to take a few mouthfuls of the beef, her
strength returned, and we once more went bravely
on our way. I cheered the sad group with hopes I
was far from sharing myself. For the first time I
was nearly ready to abandon myself to despair.
Starvation in the wilderness was the doom that stared
me and mine in the face. But again, “man’s
extremity was God's opportunity.”
We had not gone far, and I suppose it was about
three o'clock in the afternoon, when we discerned
some persons approaching us at no great distance.


JOURNEY TO CANADA. 89
We were instantly on the alert, as we could hardly
expect them to be friends. The advance of a few
paces showed me they were Indians, with packs on
their shoulders; and they were so near that if they
were hostile it would be useless to try to escape. So
I walked along boldly, till we came close upon them.
They were bent down with their burdens, and had
not raised their eyes till now; and when they did so,
and saw me coming towards them, they looked at me
in a frightened sort of a way for a moment, and then,
setting up a peculiar howl, turned round, and ran as
fast as they could. There were three or four of
them, and what they were afraid of I could not
imagine. There was no doubt they were frightened,
and we heard their wild and prolonged howl, as they
ran, for a mile or more. My wife was alarmed, too,
and thought they were merely running back to
collect more of a party, and then would come and
murder us; and she wanted to turn back. I told
her they were numerous enough to do that, if they
wanted to, without help; and that as for turning
back, I had had quite too much of the road behind
us, and that it would be a ridiculous thing that both
parties should run away. If they were disposed to
run, I would follow. We did follow, and the noise
soon ceased. As we advanced, we could discover
Indians peeping at us from behind the trees, and
dodging out of sight if they thought we were looking
at them. Presently we came upon their wigwams,
and saw a fine-looking, stately Indian, with his arms
folded, waiting for us to approach. He was, ap-
parently, the chief; and, saluting us civilly, he soon


90 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
w
discovered we were human beings, and spoke to his
young men, who were scattered about, and made
them come in and give up their foolish fears. And
now curiosity seemed to prevail. Each one wanted
to touch the children, who were as shy as partridges
with their long life in the woods; and as they shrunk
away, and uttered a little cry of alarm, the Indian
would jump back too, as if he thought they would
bite him. However, a little while sufficed to make
them understand whither we were going, and what
we needed; and then they supplied our wants, fed
us bountifully, and gave us a comfortable wigwam
for our night's rest. The next day we resumed our
march, having ascertained from the Indians that we
were only about twenty-five miles from the lake.
They sent some of their young men to point out the
place where we were to turn off, and parted from us
with as much kindness as possible.
In passing over the part of Ohio near the lake,
where such an extensive plain is found, we came to
a spot overflowed by a stream, across which the road
passed. I forded it first, with the help of a sounding-
pole, and then taking the children on my back, first
the two little ones, and then the others, one at a
time, and, lastly, my wife, I succeeded in getting
them safely across. At this time the skin was worn
from my back to an extent almost equal to the size
of the knapsack.
One night more was passed in the woods, and in
the course of the next forenoon, we came out upon
the wide, treeless plain which lies south and west of
Sandusky city. The houses of the village were in


JOURNEY TO CANADA. 91
plain sight. About a mile from the lake I hid my
wife and children in the bushes, and pushed forward.
I was attracted by a house on the left, between
which and a small coasting vessel, a number of men
were passing and repassing with great activity.
Promptly deciding to approach them, I drew near,
and scarcely had I come within hailing distance,
when the captain of the schooner cried out, “Hollo
there, man! you want to work?” “Yes, sir!”
shouted I. “Come along, come along; I'll give
you a shilling an hour. Must get off with this
wind.” As I came near, he said, “Oh, you can’t
work; you're crippled.” “Can't I?” said I; and
in a minute I had hold of a bag of corn, and fol-
lowed the gang in emptying it into the hold. I
took my place in the line of labourers next to a
coloured man, and soon got into conversation with
him. “How far is it to Canada P” He gave me a
peculiar look, and in a minute I saw he knew all.
“Want to go to Canada? Come along with us,
them. Our captain's a fine fellow. We’re going to
Buffalo.” “Buffalo; how far is that from Canada?”
“Don’t you know, man P Just across the river.”
I now opened my mind frankly to him, and told
him about my wife and children. “I’ll speak to the
captain,” said he. He did so, and in a moment the
captain took me aside, and said, “The Doctor says
you want to go to Buffalo with your family.” “Yes,
sir.” “Well, why not go with me!” was his frank
reply. “Doctor says you’ve got a family.” “Yes,
sir.” “Where do you stop?” “About a mile
back.” “How long have you been here P” “No


92 MRS. H. BEECHER Stowe’s “ UNCLE TOM.”
time,” I answered, after a moment's hesitation.
“Come, my good fellow, tell us all about it. You're
running away, ain’t you?” I saw he was a friend,
and opened my heart to him. “How long will it
take you to get ready ?” “Be here in half an hour,
sir.” “Well, go along and get them.” Off I
started; but, before I had run fifty feet, he called
me back. “Stop,” said he ; “you go on getting
the grain in. When we get off, I'll lay to over
opposite that island, and send a boat back. There’s a
lot of regular nigger-catchers in the town below, and
they might suspect if you brought your party out of
the bush by daylight.” I worked away with a will.
Soon the two or three hundred bushels of corn were
aboard, the hatches fastened down, the anchor raised,
and the sails hoisted.
I watched the vessel with intense interest as she
left her moorings. Away she went before the free
breeze. Already she seemed beyond the spot at
which the captain agreed to lay to, and still she
flew along. My heart sank within me; so near de-
liverance, and again to have my hopes blasted, again
to be cast on my own resources ! I felt that they
had been making sport of my misery. The sun
had sunk to rest, and the purple and gold of the
west were fading away into grey. Suddenly, how-
ever, as I gazed with a weary heart, the vessel swung
round into the wind, the sails flapped, and she stood
motionless. A moment more, and a boat was lowered
from her stern, and with a steady stroke made for
the point at which I stood. I felt that my hour of


JOURNEY TO CANADA. 93
release had come. On she came, and in ten minutes
she rode up handsomely on to the beach.
My black friend and two sailors jumped out, and
we started off at once for my wife and children. To
my horror, they were gone from the place where I
left them. Overpowered with fear, I supposed they
had been found and carried off. There was no time to
lose, and the men told me I would have to go alone.
Just at the point of despair, however, I stumbled
on one of the children. My wife, it seemed, alarmed
at my long absence, had given up all for lost, and
supposed I had fallen into the hands of the enemy.
When she heard my voice, mingled with those of
the others, she thought my captors were leading me
back to make me discover my family, and in the
extremity of her terror she had tried to hide herself.
I had hard work to satisfy her. Our long habits of
concealment and anxiety had rendered her suspicious
of every one; and her agitation was so great that
for a time she was incapable of understanding what
I said, and went on in a sort of paroxysm of distress
and fear. This, however, was soon over, and the
kindness of my companions did much to facilitate
the matter.
And now we were off for the boat. It required
little time to embark our baggage—one convenience,
at least, of having nothing. The men bent their
backs with a will, and headed steadily for a light
hung from the vessel's mast. I was praising God in
my soul. Three hearty cheers welcomed us as we
reached the schooner, and never till my dying day
shall I forget the shout of the captain—he was a
G


94 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
Scotchman—“Coom up on deck, and clop your
wings and craw like a rooster; you're a free nigger
as sure as you're a live mon.” Round went the vessel,
the wind plunged into her sails as though innocu-
lated with the common feeling—the water seethed
and hissed past her sides. Man and nature, and,
more than all, I felt the God of man and nature,
who breathes love into the heart and maketh the
winds His ministers, were with us. My happiness
that night rose at times to positive pain. Unnerved
by so sudden a change from destitution and danger
to such kindness and blessed security, I wept like a
child.
The next evening we reached Buffalo, but it was
too late to cross the river that night. “You see
those trees,” said the noble-hearted captain, next
morning, pointing to a group in the distance; “they
grow on free soil, and as soon as your feet touch
that, you’re a mon. I want to see you go and be a
freeman. I’m poor myself, and have nothing to
give you; I only sail the boat for wages; but I’ll
see you across. Here, Green,” said he to a ferryman,
“what will you take this man and his family over
for—he's got no money?” “Three shillings.” He
then took a dollar out of his pocket and gave it to
‘me. Never shall I forget the spirit in which he
spoke. He put his hand on my head and said, “Be
a good fellow, won’t you?” I felt streams of emo-
tion running down in electric courses from head to
foot. “Yes,” said I; “I’ll use my freedom well;
I’ll give my soul to God.” He stood waving his


JOURNEY TO CANADA. 95
hat as we pushed off for the opposite shore. God
bless him God bless him eternally 14 men
It was the 28th of October, 1830, in the morning,
when my feet first touched the Canada shore. I
threw myself on the ground, rolled in the sand,
seized handfuls of it and kissed them, and danced
around, till, in the eyes of several who were present,
I passed for a madman. “He’s some crazy fellow,”
said a Colonel Warren, who happened to be there.
“Oh no, master | don't you know P I’m free l’”
He burst into a shout of laughter. “Well, I never
knew freedom make a man roll in the sand in such
a fashion.” Still I could not control myself. I
hugged and kissed my wife and children, and, until
the first exuberant burst of feeling was over, went
on as before.


CHAPTER XIV.
NEW SCENES AND A NEW HOME.
A POOR MAN IN A STRANGE LAND.—BEGIN TO ACQUIRE PROPERTY.
—RESUME PREACHING...—BOYS GO TO SCHOOL.-WHAT GAVE ME A
DES1EE TO LEARN TO READ.—A DAY OF PRAYER IN THE WOODS.
HERE was not much time to be lost, though, in
frolic even, at this extraordinary moment. I
was a stranger in a strange land, and had to look
about me at once for refuge and resource. I found
a lodging for the night, and the next morning set
about exploring the interior for the means of sup-
port. I knew nothing about the country or the
people, but kept my eyes and ears open, and made
such inquiries as opportunity afforded. I heard, in the
course of the day, of a Mr. Hibbard, who lived some
six or seven miles off. He was a rich man, as riches
were counted there, had a large farm, and several
small tenements on it, which he was in the habit of
letting to his labourers. To him I went immediately,
though the character given him by his neighbours
was not, by any means, unexceptionably good. But
I thought he was not, probably, any worse than those
I had been accustomed to serve, and that I could get
along with him, if honest and faithful work would
satisfy him. In the afternoon I found him, and soon
struck a bargain with him for employment. I asked


NEW SCENES AND A NEW HOME. 97
him if there was any house where he would let me
live. He said, “Yes,” and led the way to an old
two-story sort of shanty, into the lower story of
which the pigs had broken, and had apparently
made it their resting-place for some time. Still, it
was a house, and I forthwith expelled the pigs, and
set about cleaning it for the occupancy of a better
sort of tenants. With the aid of hoe and shovel,
hot water and a mop, I got the floor into a tolerable
condition by midnight, and only then did I rest from
my labour. The next day I brought the rest of the
Hensons, the only furniture I had, to my house, and
though there was nothing there but bare walls and
floors, we were all in a state of great delight, and
my wife laughed and acknowledged that it was
better than a log cabin with an earth-floor. I begged
some straw of Mr. Hibbard, and confining it by logs
in the corners of the room, I made beds of it three
feet thick, upon which we reposed luxuriously after
our long fatigues.
Another trial awaited me which I had not anti-
cipated. In consequence of the great exposures
we had been through, my wife and all the children
fell sick; and it was not without extreme peril that
they escaped with their lives.
My employer soon found that my labour was of
more value to him than that of those he was accus-
tomed to hire; and as I consequently gained his
favour, and his wife took quite a fancy to mine, we
soon procured some of the comforts of life, while the
necessaries of life, food and fuel, were abundant. I
remained with Mr. Hibbard three years, sometimes


98 MRS. H. BEECHER STowe's “UNCLE TOM.”
working on shares, and sometimes for wages; and I
managed in that time to procure some pigs, a cow,
and a horse. Thus my condition gradually improved,
and I felt that my toils and sacrifices for freedom
had not been in vain. Nor were my labours for the
improvement of myself and others, in more important
things than food and clothing, without effect. It so
happened that one of my Maryland friends arrived
in this neighbourhood, and hearing of my being here,
inquired if I ever preached now, and spread the
reputation I had acquired elsewhere for my gifts in
the pulpit. I had said nothing myself, and had not
intended to say anything of my having ever officiated
in that way. I went to meeting with others, when I
had an opportunity, and enjoyed the quiet of the
Sabbath when there was no assembly. I could not
refuse to labour in this field, however, when after-
wards desired to do so; and I was from this time
frequently called upon, not by blacks alone, but by
all classes in my vicinity—the comparatively edu-
cated, as well as the lamentably ignorant—to speak
to them on their duty, responsibility, and immor-
tality, on their obligations to themselves, their
Saviour, and their Maker.
I am aware it must seem strange to many that a
man so ignorant, unable to read, and having heard
so little as I had of religion, natural or revealed,
should be able to preach acceptably to persons who
had enjoyed greater advantages than myself. I can
explain it only by reference to our Saviour's com-
parison of the kingdom of heaven to a plant which
may spring from a seed no bigger than a mustard-


NEW SCENES AND A NEW HOME. 99
seed, and may yet reach such a size, that the birds
of the air may take shelter therein. Religion is not
so much knowledge as wisdom; and observation
upon what passes without, and reflection upon what
passes within a man’s heart, will give him a larger
growth in grace than is imagined by the devoted
adherents of creeds, or the confident followers of
Christ, who call Him “Lord, Lord,” but do not the
things which He says.
Mr. Hibbard was good enough to give my eldest
boy, Tom, two quarters’ schooling, to which the
schoolmaster added more, of his own kindness, so
that my boy learned to read fluently and well. It
was a great advantage, not only to him, but to me;
for I used to get him to read much to me in the
Bible, especially on Sunday mornings, when I was
going to preach ; and I could easily commit to
memory a few verses, or a chapter, from hearing
him read it over.
One beautiful summer Sabbath I rose early, and
called him to come and read to me. “Where shall
I read, father?” “Anywhere, my son,” I answered,
for I knew not how to direct him. He opened upon
Psalm ciii., “Bless the Lord, O my soul: and all
that is within me, bless His holy name;” and as he
read this beautiful outpouring of gratitude, which I
now first heard, my heart melted within me. I
recalled, with all the rapidity of which thought is
capable, the whole current of my life; and, as I
remembered the dangers and afflictions from which
the Lord had delivered me, and compared my pre-
sent condition with what it had been, not only my


100 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
heart but my eyes overflowed, and I could neither
check nor conceal the emotion which overpowered
me. The words, “Bless the Lord, O my soul,” with
which the Psalm begins and ends, were all I needed,
or could use, to express the fulness of my thankful
heart. When he had finished, Tom turned to me
and asked, “Father, who was David P” He had
observed my excitement, and added, “He writes
pretty, don’t he P” and then repeated his question.
It was a question I was utterly unable to answer. I
had never heard of David, but could not bear to
acknowledge my ignorance to my own child. So I
answered, evasively, “He was a man of God, my
son.” “I suppose so,” said he, “but I want to
know something more about him. Where did he
live? What did he do?” As he went on question-
ing me, I saw it was in vain to attempt to escape,
and so I told him frankly I did not know. “Why,
father,” said he, “can’t you read?” This was a
worse question than the other, and, if I had any
pride in me at the moment, it took it all out of me
pretty quick. It was a direct question, and must
have a direct answer; so I told him at once I could
not. “Why not?” said he. “Because I never had
an opportunity to learn, nor anybody to teach me.”
“Well, you can learn now, father.” “No, my son,
I am too old, and have not time enough. I must
work all day, or you would not have enough to eat.”
“Then you might do it at night.” “But still there
is nobody to teach me. I can't afford to pay anybody
for it, and, of course, no one can do it for nothing.”
“Why, father, I’ll teach you. I can do it, I know.


NEW SCENES AND A NEW HOME. 101
And then you’ll know so much more that you will
be able to talk better, and preach better.” The
little fellow was so earnest, there was no resisting
him; but it is hard to describe the conflicting feel-
ings within me at such a proposition from such a
quarter. I was delighted with the conviction that
my children would have advantages I had never
enjoyed; but it was no slight mortification to think
of being instructed by my young son. Yet am-
bition, and a true desire to learn, for the good it
would do my own mind, conquered the shame, and
I agreed to try. But I did not reach this state of
mind instantly.
I was greatly moved by the conversation I had
with Tom, so much so, that I could not undertake
to preach that day. The congregation were disap-
pointed, and I passed the Sunday in solitary reflec-
tion in the woods. I was too much engrossed with
the multitude of my thoughts to return home to
dinner, and spent the whole day in secret meditation
and prayer, trying to compose myself, and ascertain
my true position. It was not difficult to see that
my predicament was one of profound ignorance, and
that I ought to use every opportunity of enlighten-
ing it. I began to take lessons of Tom, therefore,
immediately, and followed it up every evening, by
the light of a pine knot, or some hickory bark,
which was the only light I could afford. Weeks
passed, and my progress was so slow that poor Tom
was almost discouraged, and used to drop asleep
sometimes, and whine a little over my dulness, and
talk to me very much as a schoolmaster talks to a


102 MRs. H. BEECHER STOwe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
stupid boy, till I began to be afraid that my age,
nearly fifty, my want of practice in looking at such
little scratches, the daily fatigue, and the dim light,
would be effectual preventives of my ever acquiring
the art of reading. But Tom's perseverance and
mine conquered at last, and in the course of the
winter I did really learn to read a little.
It was, and has been ever since, a great comfort
to me to have made this acquisition; though it has
made me comprehend better the terrible abyss of
ignorance into which I had been plunged all my
previous life. It made me also feel more deeply
and bitterly the oppression under which I had toiled
and groaned, the crushing and cruel nature of which
I had not appreciated, till I found out, in some
slight degree, from what I had been debarred. At
the same time it made me more anxious than before,
to do something for the rescue and the elevation of
those who were suffering the same evils I had
endured, and who did not know how degraded and
ignorant they really were.


CHAPTER XV.
IIFE IN CANADA.
CONDITION OF THE BLACKS IN CANADA.—A TOUR OF EXPLORATION.
—APPEAL TO THE LEGISLATURE. –IMPROVEMENTS.
A". about three years had passed, I improved
my condition again by taking service with a
gentleman by the name of Riseley, whose residence
was only a few miles distant. He was a man of
more elevation of mind than Mr. Hibbard, and of
superior abilities. At his place I began to reflect,
more and more, upon the circumstances of the
blacks, who were already somewhat numerous in
this region. I was not the only one who had
escaped from the States, and had settled on the first
spot in Canada which they had reached. Several
hundreds of coloured persons were in the neighbour-
hood, and, in the first joy of their deliverance, they
were living in a way, which, I could see, led to little
or no progress in improvement. They were content
to have the proceeds of their labour at their own
command, and had not the ambition for, or the per-
ception of what was within their easy reach, if they
did but know it. They were generally working for
hire upon the lands of others, and had not yet
dreamed of becoming independent proprietors them-
selves. It soon became my great object to awaken


104 MRs. H. BEECHER stowe’s “ UNCLE TOM.”
them to a sense of the advantages which were
within their grasp ; and Mr. Riseley, seeing clearly
the justness of my views, and willing to co-operate
with me in the attempt to make them generally
known among the blacks, permitted me to call
meetings at his house of those who were known to
be amongst the most intelligent and successful of our
class. At these meetings we considered and dis-
cussed the subject, till we were all of one mind; and
it was agreed, among the ten or twelve of us who
assembled at them, that we would invest our earnings
in land, and undertake the task—which, though no
light one certainly, would yet soon reward us for our
effort—of settling upon wild lands, which we could
call our own, and where every tree which we felled,
and every bushel of corn we raised, would be for
ourselves; in other words, where we could secure all
the profits of our own labour.
The advantages of such a course of procedure
have been exemplified for two hundred years and
more, by the people who have thereby acquired an
indestructible character for energy, enterprise, and
self-reliance. It was precisely this energetic spirit
which I wished to instil into my fellow-slaves, if
possible; and I was not deterred from the task by
the perception of the immense contrast in all their
habits and character generated by long ages of free-
dom and servitude, activity and sloth, independence
and subjection. My associates agreed with me, and
we resolved to select some spot among the many
offered to our choice, where we could colonize, and
raise our own crops, eat our own bread, and be, in


IIFE IN CANADA. 105
short, our own masters. I was deputed to explore
the country, and find a place to which I would be
willing to migrate myself; and they all said they
would go with me, whenever such a one should be
found. I set out accordingly in the autumn of 1834,
and travelled on foot all over the extensive region
between lakes Ontario, Erie, and Huron. When I
came to the territory east of Lake St. Clair and
Detroit River, I was strongly impressed with its
fertility and its superiority, for all our purposes, to
any other spot I had seen. I determined this should
be the place; and so reported, on my return, to my
future companions. They were wisely cautious,
however, and sent me off again in the summer, that
I might see it at the opposite seasons of the year,
and be better able to judge of its advantages. I
found no reason to change my opinion, but upon
going farther towards the head of Lake Erie, I
discovered an extensive tract of government-land,
which, for some years, had been granted to a Mr.
McCormick upon certain conditions, and which he
had rented out to settlers upon such terms as he
could obtain. This land being already cleared,
offered some advantages for the immediate raising
of crops, which were not to be overlooked by per-
sons whose resources were so limited as ours. We
determined to go there first, for a time, and with
the proceeds of what we could earn there, to make
our purchases in Dawn afterwards. This plan was
followed, and some dozen or more of us settled upon
those lands the following spring, and accumulated
something by the crops of wheat and tobacco we
were able to raise.


106 MRs. H. BEECHER Stowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
I discovered, before long, that McCormick had
not complied with the conditions of his grant, and
was not, therefore, entitled to the rent he exacted
from the settlers. I was advised by Sir John Cock-
burn, to whom I applied on the subject, to appeal to
the legislature for relief. We did so; and though
McCormick was able, by the aid of his friends, to
defeat us for one year, yet we succeeded the next,
upon a second appeal, and were freed from all rent
thereafter, so long as we remained. Still, this was
not our own land. The government, though it de-
manded no rent, might set up the land for sale at
any time, and then we should, probably, be driven
off by wealthier purchasers, with the entire loss of
all our improvements, and with no retreat provided.
It was manifest that it was altogether better for us
to purchase before competition was invited; and we
kept this fully in mind during the time we stayed
there. We remained in this position six or seven
years; and all this while the coloured population
was increasing rapidly around us, and spreading
very fast into the interior settlements and the large
towns. The immigration from the United States
was incessant, and some, I am willing to admit,
were brought hither with my knowledge and con-
nivance; and I will now proceed to give a short
account of the plans and operations I had arranged
for the liberation of some of my brethren, which I
hope may prove interesting to the reader.


CHAPTER XVI.
CONDUCTING SLAVES TO CANADA.
syMPATHY FOR THE SLAVES. —-JAMES LIGHTFOOT. —MY FIRST
MISSION TO THE SOUTH.—A KENTUCKY COMPANY OF FUGITIYES.
—SAFE AT HOME.
can never be properly felt by him while he
remains in such a position. After I had tasted the
blessings of freedom, my mind reverted to those
whom I knew were groaning in captivity, and I at
once proceeded to take measures to free as many as
I could. I thought that, by using exertion, num-
bers might make their escape as I did, if they had
some practical advice how to proceed.
I was once attending a very large meeting at Fort
Erie, at which a great many coloured people were
present. In the course of my preaching, I tried to
impress upon them the importance of the obliga-
tions they were under; first, to God, for their de-
liverance; and then, secondly, to their fellow-men,
to do all that was in their power to bring others out
of bondage. In the congregation was a man named
James Lightfoot, who was of a very active tempera-
ment, and had obtained his freedom by fleeing to
Canada, but had never thought of his family and
friends whom he had left behind, until the time he
Tº degraded and hopeless condition of a slave


108 MRS. H. BEECHER Stowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
heard me speaking, although he himself had been
free for some five years. However, that day the
cause was brought home to his heart. When the
service was concluded, he begged to have an inter-
view with me, to which I gladly acceded, and an
arrangement was made for further conversation on
the same subject one week from that time. He then
informed me where he came from, also to whom he
belonged, and that he had left behind a dear father
and mother, three sisters and four brothers; and
that they lived on the Ohio River, not far from the
city of Maysville. He said that he never saw his
duty towards them to be so clear and unmistakable
as he did at that time, and professed himself ready
to co-operate in any measures that might be devised
for their release. During the short period of his
freedom he had accumulated some little property,
the whole of which, he stated, he would cheerfully
devote to carrying out those measures; for he had
no rest, night nor day, since the meeting above
mentioned.
I was not able at that time to propose what was
best to be done, and thus we parted; but in a few
days he came to see me again on the same errand.
Seeing the agony of his heart in behalf of his
kindred, I consented to commence the painful and
dangerous task of endeavouring to free those whom
he so much loved. I left my own family in the
hands of no other save God, and commenced the
journey alone, on foot, and travelled thus about four
hundred miles. But the Lord furnished me with
strength sufficient for the undertaking. I passed


CONDUCTING SLAVES TO CANADA. 109
through the States of New York, Pennsylvania, and
Ohio–free States, so called—crossed the Ohio River
into Kentucky, and ultimately found his friends in
the place he had described.
I was an entire stranger to them, but I took with
me a small token of their brother who was gone,
which they at once recognised; and this was to let
them know that he had gone to Canada, the land of
freedom, and had now sent a friend to assist them in
making their escape. This created no little excite-
ment. But his parents had become so far advanced
in years that they could not undertake the fatigue;
his sisters had a number of children, and they could
not travel; his four brothers and a nephew were
young men, and sufficiently able for the journey,
but the thought of leaving their father, and mother,
and sisters, was too painful; and they also considered
it unsafe to make the attempt then, for fear that the
excitement and grief of their friends might betray
them; so they declined going at that time, but prom-
ised that they would go in a year if I would return
for them.
To this I assented, and then went between forty
and fifty miles into the interior of Kentucky, having
heard that there was a large party ready to attempt
their escape if they had a leader to direct their
movements. I travelled by night, resting by day,
and at length reached Bourbon county, the place
where I expected to find these people. After a delay
of about a week, spent in discussing plans, making
arrangements, and other matters, I found that there
were about thirty collected from different States, who
H


110 MRs. H. BEECHER Stowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
were disposed to make the attempt. At length, on a
Saturday night, we started. The agony of parting
can be better conceived than described; as, in their
case, husbands were leaving their wives, mothers
their children, and children their parents. This, at
first sight, will appear strange, and even incredible;
but, when we take into consideration the fact, that
at any time they were liable to be separated, by
being sold to what are termed “nigger traders,”
and the probability that such an event would take
place, it will, I think, cease to excite any surprise.
We succeeded in crossing the Ohio River in safety,
and arrived in Cincinnati the third night after our
departure. Here we procured assistance; and, after
stopping a short time to rest, we started for Rich-
mond, Indiana. This is a town which had been
settled by Quakers, and there we found friends in-
deed, who at once helped us on our way, without
loss of time; and after a difficult journey of two
weeks, through the wilderness, we reached Toledo,
Ohio, a town on the south-western shore of Lake
Erie, and there we took passage for Canada, which
we reached in safety. I then went home to my
family, taking with me a part of this large party,
the rest finding their friends scattered in other
towns, perfectly satisfied with my conduct in the
matter, in being permitted to be the instrument of
freeing such a number of my fellow-creatures.
º


CHAPTER XVII.
“SECOND JOURNEY ON THE UNDERGROUND
RAILROAD.
44 SHOWER OF STARS.–KENTUCKIANS.--A STRATAGEM.–A PROVI-
DENCF.-CONDUCTED ACROSS THE MIAMI RIVER BY A Cow.—
ARRIVAL AT CINCINNATI.-ONE OF THE PARTY TAKEN ILL.-wn
LEAVE IIIM TO DIE.-MEET A “FRIEND."—A Poor white MAN.
-A STRANGE IMPRESSION.-ONCE MORE IN CANADA.
REMAINED at home, working on my farm, until
the next autumn, about the time I had pro-
mised to assist in the restoring to liberty the friends
of James Lightfoot, the individual who had excited
my sympathy at the meeting at Fort Erie. In pur-
suance of this promise, I again started on my long
journey into Kentucky.
On my way, that strange occurrence happened,
called the great meteoric shower. The heavens
seemed broken up into streaks of light and falling
stars. I reached Lancaster, Ohio, at three o'clock
in the morning, found the village aroused, the bells
ringing, and the people exclaiming, “The day of
judgment is come !” I thought it was probably so;
but felt that I was in the right business, and walked
on through the village, leaving the terrified people
behind. The stars continued to fall till the light of
the sun appeared.
On arriving at Portsmouth, in the State of Ohio,


112 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
I had a very narrow escape from being detected.
The place was frequented by a number of Kentuckians,
who were quite ready to suspect a coloured man, if
they saw anything unusual about him. I reached
Portsmouth in the morning, and waited until two
in the afternoon for the steamboat, so that I might
not arrive in Maysville till after dark. While in
the town I was obliged to resort to a stratagem, in
order to avoid being questioned by the Kentuckians
I saw in the place. To this end I procured some
dried leaves, put them into a cloth and bound it all
round my face, reaching nearly to my eyes, and
pretended to be so seriously affected in my head and
teeth as not to be able to speak. I then hung
around the village till the time for the evening boat,
so as to arrive at Maysville in the night. I was
accosted by several during my short stay in Ports-
mouth, who appeared very anxious to get some
particulars from me as to who I was, where I was
going, and to whom I belonged. To all their
numerous inquiries I merely shook my head,
mumbled out indistinct answers, and acted so that
they could not get anything out of me; and, by this
artifice, I cceeded in avoiding any unpleasant
consequences. I got on board the boat and reached.
Maysville, Kentucky, in the evening, about a fort-
night from the time I had left Canada.
On landing, a wonderful providence happened to
me. The second person I met in the street was
Jefferson Lightfoot, brother of the James Lightfoot
previously mentioned, and one of the party who had
promised to escape if I would assist them. He stated


JOURNEY ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD. 113
that they were still determined to make the attempt,
decided to put it into execution the following Satur-
day night, and preparations for the journey were at
once commenced. The reason why Saturday night
was chosen on this and the previous occasion was,
that from not having to labour the next day, and
being allowed to visit their families, they would not
be missed until the time came for their usual appear-
ance in the field, at which period they would be
some eighty or a hundred miles away. During the
interval I had to keep myself concealed by day, and
used to meet them by night to make the necessary
arrangements. -
From fear of being detected, they started of with-
out bidding their father or mother farewell, and
then, in order to prevent the bloodhounds from fol-
lowing on our trail, we seized a skiff, a little below
the city, and made our way down the river. It was
not the shortest way, but it was the surest.
It was sixty-five miles from Maysville to Cin-
cinnati, and we thought we could reach that city
before daylight, and then take the stage for Sandusky.
Our boat sprung a leak before we had got half way,
and we narrowly escaped being drowned; provi-
dentially, however, we got to the shore before the
boat sunk. We then took another boat, but this
detention prevented us from arriving at Cincinnati
in time for the stage. Day broke upon us when we
were about ten miles above the city, and we were
compelled to leave our boat from fear of being
apprehended. This was an anxious time. However,
we had got so far away that we knew there was no
* ve.


114 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
danger of being discovered by the hounds, and we
thought we would go on foot. When we got within
seven miles of Cincinnati, we came to the Miami
River, and we could not reach the city without
crossing it. -
This was a great barrier to us, for the water ap-
peared to be deep, and we were afraid to ask the
loan of a boat, being apprehensive it might lead to
our detection. We went first up and then down the
river, trying to find a convenient crossing-place, but
failed. I then said to my company, “Boys, let us.
go up the river and try again.” We started, and
after going about a mile we saw a cow coming out of
a wood, and going to the river as though she in-
tended to drink. Then said I, “Boys, let us go.
and see what the cow is about, it may be that she
will tell us some news.” I said this in order to:
cheer them up. One of them replied, in rather a.
peevish way, “Oh, that cow can't talk; ” but I
again urged them to come on. The cow remained
until we approached her within a rod or two; she
then walked into the river, and went straight across
without swimming, which caused me to remark,
“The Lord sent that cow to show us where to cross
the river!” This has always seemed to me to be a
very wonderful event. -
Having urged our way with considerable haste, we
were literally saturated with perspiration, though it
was snowing at the time, and my companions thought
that it would be highly dangerous for us to proceed
through the water, especially as there was a large-
quantity of ice in the river. But as it was a ques-


JOURNEY ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD. 115
tion of life or death with us, there was no time left
for reasoning; I therefore advanced—they reluctantly
following. The youngest of the Lightfoots, ere we
reached halfway over the river, was seized with
violent contraction of the limbs, which prevented
further self-exertion on his part; he was, therefore,
carried the remainder of the distance. After resort-
ing to continued friction, he partially recovered, and
we proceeded on our journey.
We reached Cincinnati about eleven on Sunday
morning, too late for the stage that day; but having
found some friends, we hid ourselves until Monday
evening, when we recommenced our long and toil-
some journey, through mud, rain, and snow, towards
Canada. We had increased our distance about one
hundred miles, by going out of our road to get
among the Quakers. During our passage through
the woods, the boy before referred to was taken
alarmingly ill, and we were compelled to proceed
with him on our backs; but finding this mode of
conveying him exceedingly irksome, we constructed
a kind of litter with our shirts and handkerchiefs
laid across poles. By this time we got into the State
of Indiana, so that we could travel by day as long as
we kept to the woods. Our patient continued to get
worse, and it appeared, both to himself and to us,
that death would soon release him from his suffer-
ings. He therefore begged to be left in some
secluded spot, to die alone, as he feared that the
delay occasioned by his having to be carried through
the bush, might lead to the capture of the whole
company. With very considerable reluctance we


116 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
º
acceded to his request, and laid him in a sheltered
place, with a full expectation that death would soon
put an end to his sufferings. The poor fellow ex-
pressed his readiness to meet the last struggle in
hope of eternal life. Sad, indeed, was the parting;
and it was with difficulty we tore ourselves away.
We had not, however, proceeded more than two
miles on our journey, when one of the brothers of the
dying man made a sudden stop, and expressed his in-
ability to proceed whilst he had the consciousness
that he had left his brother to perish, in all pro-
bability, a prey to the devouring wolves. His grief
was so great that we determined to return, and at
length reached the spot, where we found the poor
fellow apparently dying, moaning out with every
breath a prayer to heaven. Words cannot describe
the joyousness experienced by the Lightfoots when
they saw their poor afflicted brother once more; they
literally danced for joy. We at once prepared to
resume our journey as we best could, and once more
penetrated the bush. After making some progress,
we saw, at a little distance on the road, a waggon
approaching, and I immediately determined to ascer-
tain whether some assistance could not be obtained.
I at length circumvented the road, so as to make
it appear that I had been journeying in an opposite
direction to that which the waggon was taking.
When I came up with the driver, I bade him good
day. He said, “Where is thee going?” “To
Canada.” I saw his coat, heard his thee and thou,
and set him down for a Quaker. I therefore plainly
told him our circumstances. He at once stopped his


JOURNEY ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD. 117
s
Jhorses, and expressed his willingness to assist us. I
returned to the place where my companions were in
waiting for me, and soon had them in the presence
of the Quaker. Immediately on viewing the sufferer
he was moved to tears, and without delay turned his
horses' heads, to proceed in the direction of his home,
although he had intended to go to a distant market
with a load of produce for sale. The reception we
met with from the Quaker's family overjoyed our
hearts, and the transports with which the poor men
looked upon their brother, now so favourably circum-
stanced, cannot be described.
We remained with this happy family for the night,
and received from them every kindness. It was
arranged that the boy should remain behind, until,
-through the blessing of God, he should recover. We
were kindly provided by them with a sack of biscuit
and a joint of meat, and once more set our faces in
the direction of Lake Erie.
After proceeding some distance on our road, we
perceived a white man approaching, but as he was
travelling alone, and on foot, we were not alarmed at
his presence. It turned out that he had been re-
siding for some time in the South, and although a
free white man, his employers had attempted to
castigate him; in return for which he had used
violence, which made it necessary that he should at
once escape. We travelled in company, and found
that his presence was of signal service to us in de-
livering us out of the hands of the slave-hunters who
were now on our track, and eagerly grasping after
their prey. We had resolved on reaching the lake,


I18 MRS. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
a distance of forty miles, by the following morning;
we, therefore, walked all night. -
Just as the day was breaking, we reached a way-
side tavern, immediately contiguous to the lake, and
our white companion having knocked up the land-
land, ordered breakfast for six. Whilst our breakfast.
was in course of preparation, we dosed off into slum-
ber, wearied with our long-continued exertion.
Just as our breakfast was ready, whilst half-asleep.
and half-awake, an impression came forcibly upon.
me that danger was nigh, and that I must at once
leave the house. I immediately urged my com-
panions to follow me out, which they were exceed-
ingly unwilling to do; but as they had promised me.
submission, they at length yielded to my request.
We retired to the yard at the side of the house, and
commenced washing ourselves with the snow, which
was now up to our knees. Presently we heard the
tramping of horses, and were at once warned of the
necessity of secreting ourselves. We crept beneath
a pile of bushes, close at hand, which permitted a
full view of the road. The horsemen came to a dead
stop at the door of the house, and commenced their
inquiries; my companions at once recognised the
parties on horseback, and whispered their names to
me. This was a critical moment, and the loud beat-
ings of their hearts testified the dreadful alarm with
which they viewed the seene. Had we been within
doors, we should have been inevitably sacrificed.
Our white friend proceeded to the door in advance of
the landlord, and maintained his position. He was at
once interrogated by the slave-hunters whether he


JOURNEY ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD. I.19.
had seen any negroes pass that way. He said, yes,.
he thought he had. Their number was demanded,
and they were told about six, and that they were:
proceeding in the direction of Detroit; and that they
might be some few miles on the road. They at once
reigned their horses, which were greatly fatigued,
through having been ridden all night, and were soon
out of sight. We at length ventured into the house,
and devoured breakfast in an incredibly short space
of time. After what had transpired, the landlord
became acquainted with our circumstances, and at
once offered to sail us in his boat across to Canada.
We were happy enough to have such an offer, and
soon the white sail of our little bark was laying to .
the wind, and we were gliding along on our way,
with the land of liberty in full view. Words can-
not describe the feelings experienced by my com-
panions as they neared the shore—their bosoms were:
swelling with inexpressible joy as they mounted the
seats of the boat, ready, eagerly, to spring forward,
that they might touch the soil of the freeman. And
when they reached the shore, they danced and wept
for joy, and kissed the earth on which they first.
stepped, no longer the SLAVE–but the FREE.
After the lapse of a few months, on one joyous.
Sabbath morning, I had the happiness of clasping
the poor boy we had left in the kind care of the
Quaker, no longer attenuated in frame, but robust
and healthy, and surrounded by his family. Thus
my joy was consummated, and superadded were the
blessings of those who were ready to perish, which
came upon me. It is one of the greatest sources of


120 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
my happiness to know, that by similar means to
those above narrated, I have been instrumental in
delivering one hundred and eighteen human beings
out of the cruel and merciless grasp of the slave-
holder.
Mr. Frank Taylor, the owner of the Lightfoots,
whose escape I have just narrated, soon after he
missed his slaves, fell ill, and became quite deranged;
on recovering, he was persuaded by his friends to
free the remainder of the family of the Lightfoots,
which he at length did, and after a short lapse of
time, they all met each other in Canada, where they
are now living.


CHAPTER XVIII.
FIOME AT DAWN.
CONDITION IN CANADA.—EFFORTS IN BEHALF OF MY PEOPLE.-
REV. M.R. WILSON.—A CONVENTION OF BLACKS.–MANUAL-LABOUR.
SCHOOL.
DID not find that our prosperity increased with
I our numbers. The mere delight the slaves. .
took in their freedom, rendered them, at first, con-
tented with a lot far inferior to that to which they
might have attained. Their ignorance often led
them to make unprofitable bargains, and they would
often hire wild land on short terms, and bind them-
selves to clear a certain number of acres. But by
the time they were cleared and fitted for cultivation,
and the lease was out, the landlords would take posses-
sion of the cleared land and raise a splendid crop on
it. The tenants would, very likely, start again on
just such another bargain, and be no better off at
the end of ten years than at the beginning. Another
way in which they lost the profits of their labour
was by raising nothing but tobacco, the high price
of which was very tempting, and the cultivation of
which was a monopoly in their hands, as no white
man understood it, or could compete with them at
all. The consequence was, however, that the had


122 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
nothing but tobacco to sell, and soon there was
rather too much of it in the market, and the price of
wheat rose, while their commodity was depressed;
hence they lost all they should have saved, in the
profit they gave the trader for his corn and stores.
I saw the effect of these things so clearly, that I
could not help trying to make my friends and neigh-
bours see it too; and I set seriously about the
business of lecturing upon the subject of crops,
wages, and profit, just as if I had been brought up
to it. I insisted on the necessity of their raising
their own crops, saving their own wages, and
securing the profits of their own labour, using such
plain arguments as occurred to me, and were as
clear to their comprehension as to mine. I did this
very openly ; and, frequently, my audience con-
sisted in part of the very traders whose inordinate
profits upon individuals I was trying to diminish,
but whose balance of profit would not be ultimately
lessened, because they would have so many more
persons to trade with, who would be able to pay
them a reasonable advance in cash, or its equivalent,
on all their purchases. The purse is a tender part of
the system; but I handled it so gently, that the
sensible portion of my natural opponents were not, I
believe, offended; while those whom I wished to
benefit, saw, for the most part, the propriety of my
advice, and took it. At least, there are now great
numbers of coloured fugitives, in this region of
Canada, who own their farms, are training up their
children in true independence, and giving them a
good elementary education, who had not taken a


HOME AT DAWN. 123
singlé step towards such a result before I began to
talk to them.
While I remained at Colchester, I became ac-
quainted with a Congregational missionary from
Massachusetts, by the name of Hiram Wilson, who
took an interest in our people, and was disposed to
do what he could to promote the cause of improve-
ment which I had so much at heart. He co-
operated with me in many efforts, and I have been
associated with him for over thirty years. He has
been a faithful friend, and still continues his im-
portant labours of love in our behalf. Among other
things, he wrote to a Quaker friend of his, an
Englishman, by the name of James C. Fuller,
residing at Skeneateles, New York, and endeavoured
to interest him in the welfare of our struggling
population.
He succeeded so far, that Mr. Fuller, who was
going on a visit to England, promised to interest his
friends there, to induce them to aid us. He came
back with fifteen hundred dollars which had been
subscribed for our benefit. It was a great ques-
tion how this sum, which sounded vast to many
of my brethren, should be appropriated. I had my
own decided opinion as to what it was best for us all
to do with it. But, in order to come to a satisfac-
tory conclusion, it was thought expedient to call a
convention of delegates from every settlement of
blacks that was within reach; that all might see
that the ultimate decision was sanctioned by the
disinterested votes of those who were thought by
their companions best able to judge what would meet
* *


124 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
the wants of our community. Mr. Wilson and
myself, therefore, called such a convention, to meet.
in London, Upper Canada, and it was held in June,
1838.
I urged the appropriation of the money to the
establishment of a manual-labour school, at which
our children could gain those elements of knowledge
which are usually taught in a grammar-school. I
urged that the boys should be taught, in addition,
the practice of some mechanical art, and the girls,
should be instructed in those domestic arts which
are the proper occupation and ornament of their sex;
and that such an establishment would not only train
up those who would afterwards instruct others, but
that it would gradually enable us to become inde-
pendent of the white man for our intellectual
progress, as we could be for our physical prosperity.
It was the more necessary, as in many districts,
owing to the insurmountable prejudices of the in-
habitants, the children of the blacks were not allowed.
to share the advantages of the common school.
There was some opposition to this plan in the con-
vention; but in the course of the discussion, which
continued for three days, it appeared so obviously
for the advantage of all to husband this donation, so-
as to preserve it for a purpose of permanent utility,
that the proposal was, at last, unanimously adopted;
and a committee of three was appointed to select
and purchase a site for the establishment. Mr.
Wilson and myself were the active members of this
committee, and after traversing the country for
several months, we could find no place more suitable


HOME AT DAWN. 125
than that upon which I had had my eye for three or
four years, for a permanent settlement, in the town
of Dawn. , -
We therefore bought two hundred acres of fine
rich land, on the River Sydenham, covered with a
heavy growth of black walnut and white wood, at
, four dollars the acre. I had made a bargain for two
hundred acres adjoining this lot, on my own account;
and circumstances favoured me so, that the man of
whom I purchased, was glad to let me have them at
a large discount from the price I had agreed to pay,
if I would give him cash for the balance I owed him.
I transferred a portion of the advantage of this
bargain to the institution, by selling to it one
hundred acres more, at the low price at which I
obtained them.
In 1842 I removed with my family to Dawn, and
as a considerable number of my friends were soon
there about me, and the school was permanently
fixed there, as we thought, the future importance of
this settlement seemed to be decided. There are
many other settlements which are prosperous; in-
deed, the coloured population is scattered over a
territory which does not fall far short of three
hundred miles in extent, in each direction, and pro-
bably numbers not less than twenty thousand
persons in all. We looked to the school, and the
possession of landed property by individuals, as two
great means by which our oppressed and degraded
race could be elevated to enjoy a participation in
the blessings of civilisation, whereas they had hitherto
been permitted to share only its miseries and vices.
I


126 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
My efforts to aid them, in every way in my power,
and to procure the aid of others for them, have been.
constant. I have made many journeys into New
York, Connecticut, Massachusetts, and Maine, in all:
of which States I have found or made many friends
to the cause, as well as personal friends. I have
received many liberal gifts for my people, and ex-
perienced much kindness of treatment; but I must
be allowed to allude particularly to the donations.
received from Boston—by which we were enabled to:
erect a sawmill, and thus to begin in good earnest
the clearing of our lands, and to secure a profitable
return for the support of our school—as among those
which have been most welcome and valuable to us.
Some of the trips I have made, have led to some
incidents and observations which must be the theme.
of a future chapter.


CHAPTER XIX:
LUMBERING OFFRATIONS.
INDUSTRIAL PROJECT.-FIND SOME ABLE FRIENDS IN BOSTON.—
PROCURE FUNDS AND CONSTRUCT A SAWMILL.-SALES OF LUMBER
In BOSTON.-INCIDENT IN THE CUSTOM HOUSE.
HE land on which we settled in Canada was
T covered with a beautiful forest of noble trees
of various kinds. Our people were accustomed to
cut them down and burn them on the ground, simply
to get rid of them. Often as I roamed through the
forest, I was afflicted at seeing such waste, and
longed to devise some means of converting this
abundant natural wealth into money, so as to im-
prove the condition of the people.
Full of this subject, I left my home on a journey
of observation through the State of New York, and
New England. I kept my purposes to myself, not
breathing a word of my intentions to any mortal. I
found in New York, mills where precisely such logs
as those in Canada were sawed into lumber, which I
learned commanded large prices. In New England
I found a ready market for the black walnut, white
wood, and other lumber, such as abounded and was
wasted in Canada.
On reaching Boston, Mass., I made known these


128 MRS. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
facts and my feelings to some philanthropic gentle-
men with whom I had become acquainted. It can-
not be improper for me to mention the names of these
gentlemen, who lent so ready an ear to my repre-
sentations, and placed so much confidence in my
judgment, that they furnished me with the means
of starting what has since proved a very profitable
enterprise.
Rev. Ephraim Peabody introduced me to Samuel
Elliot, Esq., who was kind enough to examine care-
fully into all my representations, and to draw up a
sketch of them, which was afterwards presented to
Amos Lawrence, Esq., and others. By means of
this, many of the leading gentlemen of Boston con-
tributed about fourteen hundred dollars, to aid me in
this enterprise. -
With this money I returned to Canada, and im-
mediately set myself about building a sawmill in
Camden (then Dawn). The improvement in the sur-
rounding section was astonishing. The people began
to labour in earnest, and the progress in clearing and
cultivating the land was cheering. -
But after the framework of my mill was com-
pleted and covered, my scanty funds were exhausted.
This was a trying time. I had begun the work in
faith, I had expended the money honestly, and to
the best of my judgment, and now should the whole
enterprise fail? I immediately returned to my
Boston friends. Amos Lawrence, H. Ingersoll Bow-
ditch, and Samuel A. Elliot, Esqs., listened to me
again, and gave me to understand that they deemed
me an honest man. They encouraged me in my


LUMBERING OPERATIONS. 129
business-enterprise, and the approval of such men
was like balm to my soul. They endorsed a note for
me and put it into the bank, by which I was enabled
to borrow, on my own responsibility, about eighteen
hundred dollars more. With this I soon completed
the mill, stocked it with machinery, and had the
pleasure of seeing it in successful operation. I ought
here to add, that the mill was not to be my own
private property, but to belong to the association,
which established an excellent manual-labour school,
where many children and youth of both sexes have
been educated. The school was well-attended by
coloured children, whites, and some Indians.
This enterprise having been completed to a great
extent by my own labour and the labour of my own
sons, who took charge of the mill, I immediately
began to consider how I could discharge my pecu-
niary obligations. I chartered a vessel, and loaded
it with eighty thousand feet of good prime black
walnut-lumber, sawed in our mill, and contracted
with the captain to deliver it for me at Oswego,
N. Y. I entered into a contract there with a party
to have it delivered at Boston, but the party having
forwarded it to New York, failed to.carry it any
farther. There great efforts were made to cheat me
out of the lumber, but, by the good friendship of
Mr. Lawrence, of Boston, who furnished me the
means of having it reshipped, I succeeded in
bringing the whole eighty thousand feet safely to
Boston, where I sold it to Mr. Jonas Chickering for
forty-five dollars per thousand feet. The proceeds
paid all expenses, and would have cancelled all the


130 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
debts I had incurred; but my friends insisted that
I should retain a part of the funds for future use.
After that I brought another large load of lumber by
the same route.
The next season I brought a large cargo oy the
River St. Lawrence, which came direct to Boston,
where, without the aid of any agent or third party
whatever, I paid my own duties, got the lumber
through the Custom House, and sold it at a hand-
some profit. A little incident occurred when paying
the duties, which has often since afforded me a great
deal of amusement. The Fugitive Slave Law had
just been passed in the United States, which made
it quite an offence to harbour or render aid to a
fugitive slave. When the Custom House officer pre-
sented his bill to me for the duties on my lumber, I
jokingly remarked to him that perhaps he would
render himself liable to trouble if he should have
dealings with a fugitive slave, and if so, I would
relieve him of the trouble of taking my money.
“Are you a fugitive slave, sir?” “Yes, sir,” said
I; “and perhaps you had better not have any
dealings with me.” “I have nothing to do with
that,” said the official; “there is your bill. You
have acted like a man, and I deal with you as a
man.” I enjoyed the scene, and the bystanders
seemed to relish it, and I paid him the money.
I look back upon the enterprise related in this
chapter with a great deal of pleasure, for the mill
which was then built, introduced an entire change
in the appearance of that section of the country, and
in the habits of the people.


*** -, --~~
CHAPTER XX.
VISIT TO ENGLAND.
ºpDBT ON THE INSTITUTION.—A NEW PECUNIARY ENTERPRISE.-
LETTERS OF RECOMMENDATION TO ENGLAND.—PERSONAL DIFFI-
CULTIES.–CALLED AN IMPOSTOR.-TriUMPHANT WICTORY OVER
THESE TROUBLES.
Y interest in the Manual Labour School in
Dawn, was the means of my visiting Eng-
ſland. Those who have never engaged in such
business, can have no idea of the many difficulties
connected with so great an enterprise. In spite of
all the efforts of the association, a debt of about
seven thousand five hundred dollars rested upon it.
A meeting of its trustees and friends, in the year
1849, was called to consider its condition, and to
devise, if possible, some means for its relief. After
a long discussion of the matter, it was finally deter-
mined to separate the concern into two departments,
and put it under the charge of two parties, the ong
to take the mill and a certain portion of the land for
four years, and to pay all the debts of the institution
in that time; and the other party to take the other
£buildings and land, and to conduct the school.
A certain party was found willing to assume the
school. But it was more difficult to find one who


132 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
would be enterprising enough to take the mill for
four years encumbered with a debt of seven thousand
five hundred dollars.
At length I concluded to do it, provided that Mr.
Peter B. Smith would assume an equal share of the
responsibility, and attend to the business of the mill.
He readily consented.
I decided to go to England, carry with me some
of the best specimens of black walnut-boards our
farm would produce and exhibit them in the world's
great Industrial Exhibition, then in session at Lon-
don, and perhaps negotiate there for the sale of
lumber. I accordingly left for England, being readily
furnished with very complimentary letters of intro-
duction to such men as Thomas Binney, Samuel
Gurney, Lord Brougham, Hon. Abbot Lawrence,
then American Minister to England, from Rev. John
Rolfe, of Toronto, Chief Justice Robinson, Sir Allen
McNab, Col. John Prince, Rev. Dr. Duffield, of
Detroit, Michigan; Judge Conant, of the same city;
Hon. Ross Wilkinson, U. S. Judge, residing also
in Detroit ; Hon. Charles Sumner and Amos Law-
rence, Esq., of Massachusetts. From the gentlemen
above mentioned, I had in England a most cordial
reception, and was immediately introduced to the
very best society in the kingdom.
I regret exceedingly to make any allusions to per-
sonal difficulties, or to individuals who have pursued
an unjust and unchristian course towards me or
others, but I cannot give anything like a correct
view of this part of my history, without, at least, a
brief allusion to these difficulties.


VISIT TO ENGLAND. 133.
It was undoubtedly the plan of certain individuals
of the party who assumed the care of the school,
probably from unworthy sectarian feelings, to obtain
entire possession of the property of the association,
or certainly, completely to destroy my influence over
it and connection with it.
Much to my astonishment, therefore, when I had
arrived in England, and had been cordially received
by the men above mentioned, and had preached in
the pulpits of Rev. Thomas Binney, Baptist Noel,
William Brock, James Sherman, George Smith, and
Dr. Burns, in London, and had already introduced my
enterprise before a portion of the British public, I
was confronted by a printed circular, to the following
effect: “That one styling himself Rev. Josiah Hen-
son was an impostor, obtaining money under false
pretences; that he could exhibit no good credentials;
that whatever money he might obtain would not be
appropriated according to the wish of the donors,
and that the said Josiah Henson was an artful, skil-
ful, and eloquent man, and would probably deceive
the public.” This was a severe blow, but fortunately
I had already requested my friends to appoint a
committee of twelve persons to examine carefully into
the merits of my enterprise, and particularly desired
that this committee should appoint a sub-committee
of three, and a treasurer, to receive every farthing
contributed to me by the public, and to appropriate
it only as they should deem proper. This committee
had been appointed, and consisted of Samuel Gurney,
Samuel Gurney, Junior, Samuel Morley, Esq., George
Hitchcock, Esq., Rev. James Sherman, Rev. Thomas


134 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “ UNCLE TOM.”
Binney, Rev. John Branch, Eusebius Smith, Esq.,
John Scobell, Secretary of the British and Foreign
Anti-Slavery Society, Lord Ashley (now Earl of
Shaftesbury), George Sturge, and Thomas Sturge.
The sub-committee of three were, John Scobell, Rev.
..John Branch, and Eusebius Smith, who appointed
Samuel Gurney, Junior, treasurer. Many of the
above names are known throughout the world.
When the above attack was made upon me, a
meeting of those interested in my cause was called,
and my accuser, who was in the country, was re-
quested to meet me face to face.
I believe all the difficulty arose from little petty
jealousies, fostered, perhaps, by the unworthy influ-
ences of slavery, over the misguided people who
were for a time misled by false representations.
We met before a company of English gentlemen,
who heard all that my accuser had to say. They
asked me for a reply. I simply restated to them
the facts I had previously made known. I reminded
them that a man who devotes himself to doing good,
must and will be misunderstood and have enemies.
I called their attention to the misinterpretation of
their own motives made by their enemies. I related
to them the parable of Christ about the wheat and
the tares. My recommendatory letters were re-read
—a sufficient reply to the allegation that I was an
impostor. º
They assured me of their entire confidence and
satisfaction; but to be able to clear every aspersion
•on my character they determined, at their own
-expense, to send an agent to Canada, to make a full


VISIT TO ENGLAND. - 135
inquiry into the matter, and advised me to accom-
pany him. Accordingly, their agent and myself
started for Canada immediately. I had already
collected nearly seventeen hundred dollars, which, of
course, remained in the hands of the treasurer.
A mass meeting, of all interested in the matter,
was called in the institution on the premises. A
large assemblage met, and Rev. John Rolfe, of
Toronto, presided. A thorough examination into
the records of the institution was made. The origi-
nator of the slander against me, denied having made
it; it was proved upon him, and the whole conven-
tion unanimously repudiated the false charges. The
agent remained in Canada about three months, and
before leaving, sent me a letter, informing me that
whenever I should see fit to return to England, I
should find in the hands of Amos Lawrence, Esq., of
Boston, a draft to defray the expenses of the journey.
Accordingly, in the latter part of 1851, I returned.
The ground was now prepared for me, and I
reaped an abundant harvest. The whole debt of the
institution was cancelled in a few months, when I
was recalled to Canada by the fatal illness of my
wife. Several very interesting occurrences happened
during my stay in England, which I must relate in
another chapter.


CHAPTER XXI.
THE WORLD'S FAIR IN LONDON.
MY CONTRIBUTION TO THE GREAT EXHIBITION.—DIFFICULTY WITH.
THE AMERICAN SUPERINTENDENT.-HAPPY RELEASE. —THE GREAT
CROWD.—A CALL FROM THE QUEEN.—MEDAL AWARDED TO ME.
HAVE already mentioned that the first idea which
suggested to me the plan of going to England,
was to exhibit, at the World's Great Fair, in Lon-
don, some of the best specimens of our black walnut-
lumber, in the hope that it might lead to sales in
England. For this purpose, I selected some of the
best boards out of the cargo which I had brought to
Boston, which Mr. Chickering was kind enough to
have properly packed in boxes, and sent to England
in the American ship which carried the American
products for exhibition. The boards which I selected
were four in number, excellent specimens, about
seven feet in length and four feet in width, of
beautiful grain and texture. On their arrival in
England, I had them planed and perfectly polished,
in French style, so that they actually shone like a
Inlrror.
The history of my connection with the World's
Fair is a little amusing. Because my boards hap-
pened to be carried over in the American ship, the


THE worlD's FAIR IN LONDON. 137
superintendent of the American Department, who
was from Boston, insisted that my lumber should be
exhibited in the American department. To this I
objected. I was a citizen of Canada, my boards
were from Canada, and there was an apartment of
the building appropriated to Canadian products. I
therefore insisted that my boards should be removed
from the American department to the Canadian.
But, said the American, “You cannot do it. All
these things are under my control. You can exhibit
what belongs to you if you please, but not a single
thing here must be moved an inch without my
consent.” -
This was quite a damper to me. I thought his
position was rather absurd, and for the time it seemed
impossible to move him or my boards.
A happy suggestion, however, occurred to me.
Thought I, if this Yankee wants to retain my furni-
ture, the world shall know who owns it. I accord-
ingly hired a painter to paint in large white letters
on the tops of my boards: “THIs Is THE PRODUCT
oF THE INDUSTRY of A FUGITIVE SLAVE FROM THE
UNITED STATES, whosF RESIDENCE is DAWN,
CANADA.” This was done early in the morning.
In due time, the American superintendent came
around, and found me at my post. The gaze of
astonishment with which he read my inscription,
was laughable to witness. His face was as black as
a thunder-cloud. “Look here, sir,” said he. “What,
under heaven, have you got up there P”—“Oh, that is
only a little information to let the people know who
I am.”—“But don’t you know better than that ?


138 MRS. H. BEECHER stowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
Do you suppose I am going to have that insult up
there?” The English gentlemen began to gather
around, chuckling with half-suppressed delight, to
see the wrath of the Yankee. This only added fuel
to the fire. “Well, sir,” said he, “do you suppose I
brought that stuff across the Atlantic for nothing P”
—“I never asked you to bring it for nothing. I
am ready to pay you, and have been from the
beginning.”—“Well, sir, you may take it away,
and carry it where you please.”—“Oh,” said I, “I
think, as you wanted it very much, I will not dis-
turb it. You can have it now.”—“No, sir; take it
away!”—“I beg your pardon, sir,” said I, “when
I wanted to remove it, you would not allow it, and
now, for all me, it shall remain.” In the meantime.
the crowd enjoyed it and so did I. The result was,
that by the next day, the boards were removed to.
their proper place at no expense to me, and no bill
was ever presented to me for carrying the lumber
across the Atlantic. -
In that immense exhibition, my humble contribu-
tion received its due share of attention. I had
many interesting conversations with individuals,
among that almost innumerable multitude from every
nation under heaven. Perhaps my complexion at-
tracted attention, but nearly all who passed, paused
to look at me, and at themselves, as reflected in my
large black walnut mirrors.
Among others, the Queen of England, Victoria,
preceded by her guide, and attended by her cortége,
paused to view me and my property. I uncovered
my head and saluted her as respectfully as I could,.


THE world's FAIR IN LONDON. 139,
and she was pleased with perfect grace to return my
salutation. “Is he indeed a fugitive slave?” I
heard her inquire; and the answer was, “He is.
indeed, and that is his work.”
But notwithstanding such pleasant occurrences,
the time wore heavily away. The immense crowd,
kept in as perfect order as a single family, became
wearisome to me, and I was not sorry, as related in
a preceding chapter, to go back to Canada, leaving
my boards on exhibition.
On returning to England the exhibition was still
in progress. There seemed no diminution of the
crowd. Like the waters of the great Mississippi,
the channel was still full, though the individuals
were changed. -
But among all the exhibitors from every nation in
Europe, and from Asia, America, and the Isles of the .
Sea, there was not a single black man but myself.
There were negroes there from Africa, brought to
be exhibited, but no negro-exhibitors but myself.
Though my condition was wonderfully changed from
what it was in my childhood and youth, yet it was a
little saddening to reflect that my people were not
more largely represented there. The time will yet
come, I trust, when such a state of things will no
longer exist.
At the close of the exhibition, on my return to
Canada, I received from England a large quarto
bound volume containing a full description of all the
objects presented at the exhibition, the names of
the officers of all the committees, juries, exhibitors,
prizes, &c., &c. Among others, I found my own


140 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
name recorded; and in addition a bronze medal was
awarded to me. I also received a beautiful picture
of the Queen and royal family, of the size of life, and
several other objects of interest.
These testimonials of honour I greatly prize. I
fully succeeded in my mission to England, and re-
leased myself from the voluntarily-assumed debt in
behalf of the manual-labour school. While in Eng-
land, I was permitted to enjoy some excellent oppor-
tunities to witness its best society, which I propose
to relate in the following chapter.
-
#y


CHAPTER XXII.
VISITS TO THE RAGGED SCHOOLS.
sPEECH AT SUNDAY-SCHOOL ANNIVERSARY. —INTERVIEW WITH LORB
GREY. —INTERVIEW WITH THE ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, ANB
DINNER WITH LORD JoHN RUSSELL, THE GREAT EVENTS OF My
LIFE.
HILE in England I was frequently called upon
to speak at public meetings of various kinds.
I was deeply interested in the Ragged School enter-
prise, and frequently addressed the schools, and also
public meetings held in their behalf. I attended most
of the great anniversaries held in May, and was called
upon to speak at many of them. On several occasions
I did what I could, to make known the true condition
of slaves, in Exeter Hall and other places. On one
occasion, I recollect, an eminent man from Pennsyl-
vania was addressing the anniversary of a Sabbath
School Union. He boasted of the great benefits of
Sunday schools in the United States, and asserted
that all classes indiscriminately enjoyed their bless-
ings. I felt bound to contradict him, and after
putting to the speaker a few questions, which he
stammeringly answered, I told the immense meeting
that in the Southern States, the great body of the
coloured people were almost entirely neglected, and
in many places they were excluded altogether; and
, R.


142 Mrs. H. BEECHER stowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
that in the majority of the Northern States, the
great mass of the coloured children were not sought
out and gathered into Sunday schools. This created
some little storm, but my own personal observation
and experience carried conviction to the people.
Being thus introduced to the public, I became well
acquainted with many of the leading men of Eng-
land. Ilord Grey made a proposition to me, which,
if circumstances had permitted, I should have been
glad to have accepted. It was to go to India, and
there superintend some great efforts made by the
government to introduce the culture of cotton on the
American plan. He promised to appoint me to an
office, with a good salary. Had it not been for my
warm interest in my Canadian enterprise, I should
have accepted his proposal.
One of the most pleasing incidents for me now to
look back upon, was a long interview which I was
permitted to enjoy with the Archbishop of Canter-
bury. The elevated social position of this man, the
highest beneath the crown, is well known to all those
acquainted with English society. Samuel Gurney,
the noted philanthropist, introduced me, by a note
and his family-card, to his grace the archbishop.
The latter received me kindly in his palace. I
immediately entered into a conversation with him
upon the condition of my people, and the plans I
had in view. He expressed the strongest interest in
me, and after about a half-hour's conversation, he
inquired, “At what university, sir, did you gradu-
ate?” “I graduated, your grace,” said I, in reply,
“at the university of adversity.” “The university


VISITS TO THE IRAGGED SCHOOLS. 143
•of adversity,” said he, looking up with astonish-
ment; “where is that ?” I saw his surprise, and
explained. “It was my lot, your grace,” said I,
“to be born a slave, and to pass my boyhood and all
the former part of my life as a slave. I never
entered a school, never read the Bible in my youth,
and received all of my training under the most
adverse circumstances. This is what I mean by
graduating in the university of adversity.” “I
understand you, sir,” said he. “But is it possible
that you are not a scholar?” “I am not,” said I.
“But I should never have suspected that you were
not a liberally educated man. I have heard many
negroes talk, but have never seen one that could use
such language as you. Will you tell me, sir, how
you learned our language P” I then explained to
him, as well as I could, my early life; that it had
always been my custom to observe good speakers,
and to imitate only those who seemed to speak most
correctly. “It is astonishing,” said the archbishop.
“And is it possible that you were brought up ignorant
of religion ? How did you attain to the knowledge
of Christ?” I explained to him, in reply, “that a
poor ignorant slave mother had taught me to say the
Lord's Prayer, though I did not then know how,
truly, to pray.” “And how were you led to a better
knowledge of the Saviour P” I answered that it was
by the hearing of the Gospel preached. He then
asked me to repeat the text, and to explain all the cir-
cumstances. I told him the text of the first sermon
I had heard, was, “He, by the grace of God, tasted
death for every man.” “A beautiful text was that,”


144 Mrs. H. BeECHER stowe’s “UNCLE Toyſ.”
said the archbishop, and so affected was he by my
simple story, that he shed tears freely.
I had been told by Samuel Gurney that perhaps
the archbishop would give me an interview of a
quarter of an hour; I glanced at the clock and found
that I had already been there an hour and a half,
and arose to depart. He followed me to the door,
and begged of me if ever I came to England to call
and see him again; and shaking hands affectionately
with me, while the tears trembled in his eyes, he
graciously put into my hands a bank-note for £50,
and bade me adieu. I have always esteemed him as
a walm-hearted Christian. -
Thus ended the interview with the venerable Arch-
bishop Sumner, of England. On my second visit to
England, I had an invitation, in company with a
large number of Sabbath School teachers, to spend
a day in the beautiful grounds of Lord John Russell,
then Prime Minister of England. His magnificent
park, filled with deer, of varied colours, from all
climes, and sleek hares, which the poet Cowper
would have envied, with numberless birds, whose
plumage rivalled the rainbow in gorgeous colours,
together with the choicest specimens of the finny
tribe, sporting in their native element, drew from
me the involuntary exclamation: “Oh, how diſ-
ferent the condition of these happy, sportive, joy-
ful creatures, from what was once my own condition,
and what is now the lot of millions of my coloured
brethren in Americal * This occupancy of the
elegant grounds of England's Prime Minister, for
the day, by a party of Sabbath School teachers,


VISITS TO THE RAGGED SCHOOLS. 145
was a picnic, with this difference, that, instead of
each teacher providing his own cakes, and pies, and
fruit, they were furnished by men and women, who
were allowed to come on to the grounds, with every
variety of choice eatables for sale. After strolling
over these charming grounds, enjoying the beautiful
scenery, the happy gambols of the brute creation,
and the conversation of the many intelligent men
and women with whom we came in contact, we
were most unexpectedly, at five o'clock, sent for to
visit the elegant mansion of the proprietor. There
we found what I will call a surprise-party, or at
any rate, we were taken by surprise, for three
hundred of us were ushered into a spacious dining
hall, whose dimensions could not have been less
than one hundred feet by sixty, and here were
tables, groaning under every article of luxury for
the palate, which England could supply, and to
this bountiful repast we were all made welcome.
I was invited to take the head of the table; I
never felt so highly honoured. The blessing was
invoked by singing the following verse:
“Be present at our table, Lord,
Be here and everywhere adored :
These creatures bless,
And grant that we may feast
In Paradise with Thee l’”
After dinner, various toasts were proposed, on
several subjects, and il, my humble way I offered
the following:
“First to England. Honour to the brave, freedom to the Slave,
success to British emancipation. God bless the Queen l''


146 MRs. II. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
Cheers and laughter followed the reading of this:
toast, succeeded by the usual English exclamations,
“Up, up, up again /* I again arose and gave, To,
our most Sovereign Lady, the Queen:
“May she have a long life, and a happy death. May she reign
in righteousness, and rule in love 1" -
And to her illustrious consort, Prince Albert :
“May he have peace at home, pleasure abroad, love his Queen,
and serve the Lord!” -
Among the distinguished persons who made
speeches on this joyous occasion, were Rev. William,
Drock, Hon. Samuel M. Peto, and the brother-in-
law of Mr. Peto, with his accomplished and beautiful
lady. Thus ended one of the pleasantest days of
my life.


CHAPTER XXIII.
CLOSING UP MY LONDON AGENCY,
MY NARRATIVE PUBLISHED.—LETTER FROM IIOME APPIRISING ME
OF THE SICKNESS OF MY WIFE.-DEPARTURE FROM LONDON.—
AIRRIVAL AT HOME.-MEETING WITII MY FAMILY.—THE GREAT
sortſtow of My LIFE, THE DEATH OF MY wiFE.
THE dinner at Lord John Russell's, as detailed in
T the previous chapter, was in the month of June,
1852; from that time to the 1st of August, I was
busily employed in finishing up all matters connected
with my agency, in which I was very successful,
having accomplished the objects of my mission.
During the month of August, I was engaged in
publishing a narrative of incidents in my slave-life,
which I had been urgently requested to do by some
of the noblest men and women in England. Just as
I had completed the work, I received, on the 3rd
of September, a letter from my family in Canada,
stating that my beloved wife, the companion of my
life, the sharer of my joys and sorrows, was at the
point of death, and that she earnestly desired me to
return immediately, that she might see me once
more before she bade adieu to earth. This was a
trying hour for me. I was in England, four thou-
sand miles from my home. J was not long in de-
ciding to go home. On the morning of the 4th


148 MRS. II. BEECHER STowe's “UNCLE TOM.”
of September, having received the letter from home
at four o'clock on the afternoon of the 3rd, I was
on my way from London to Liverpool, and embarked
from Liverpool on the 5th, in the steamer Canada,
bound for Boston. On the 20th of the same
month I arrived at my own Canadian home. Those
who have been placed in similar situations, can
realise what must have been my feelings as I drew
near my humble dwelling. I had heard nothing
since the information contained in the letter which
reached me at Liverpool. I knew not whether my
dear wife, the mother of my children, she who had
travelled with me, sad, solitary, and footsore, from
the land of bondage, who had been to me a kind,
affectionate, and dutiful wife for forty years, was
still alive, or whether she had entered into her rest.
A merciful Father had, however, kindly prolonged
her life, and we were permitted once more to meet.
And oh! such a meeting ! I was met in the yard
by four of my daughters, who rushed to my arms,
delighted at my unexpected return. They begged
me not to go in to see mother, until they should
first go and prepare her for it, thinking very wisely
that the shock would be too great for her poor
shattered nerves to bear. I consented that they
should precede me. They gradually prepared her
mind for our meeting. When I went to her bed-
side, she received and embraced me with the calm-
ness and fortitude of a Christian, and even chided
me for the strong emotions of sorrow which I found
it utterly impossible to suppress. I found her per-
fectly calm and resigned to the will of God, awaiting


CLOSING UP MY LONDON AGENCY. 149
with Christian firmness the hour for her summons.
She was rejoiced to see me once more, while at the
same time she said that perhaps she had done wrong
in allowing me to leave England when my business-
prospects were so flattering. I told her that I was
more than satisfied, that I was truly thankful to
my IIeavenly Father for granting us this interview,
ino matter what the pecuniary sacrifice might be.
We talked over our whole past life as far as her
strength would permit, reviewing the many scenes
of sorrow and trouble, as well as the many bright
and happy days of our pilgrimage, until exhausted
nature sought repose, and she sunk into a quiet
sleep. -
The day following she revived; my return seemed
to inspire her with the hope that possibly she might
again be restored to health. It was not, however,
so to be ; but God in His mercy granted her a
reprieve, and her life was prolonged a few weeks.
I thus had the melancholy satisfaction of watching
day and night by her bed of languishing and pain,
and was permitted to close her eyes when the final
summons came. She blessed me, and blessed her
children, commending us to the ever-watchful care
of that Saviour who had sustained her in so many
hours of trial; and finally, after kissing me and
each one of the children, she passed from earth to
heaven without a pang or a groan, as gently as the
falling to sleep of an infant on its mother's breast.
“Who would not wish to die like those
Whom God's own Spirit deigns to bless
To sink into that soft repose,
Then wake to perfect happiness 2"


150 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE ToM.”
I can truly and from an overflowing heart say,
that she was a sincere and devoted Christian, a
faithful and kind wife to me, even to the day of
her death arranging all our domestic matters, in
such a manner as to contribute as largely as possible.
to my comfort and happiness.


CHAPTER XXIV.
MY BROTHER'S FREEDOM.
AM 1 MY BROTHER's KEEPER 2–1. FFol:Ts to secul:E HIs FitEE--
DOM.–ATTEMPTS TO RAISE THE MONEY. —UNION OF IIIS FAMILY.
T RECEIVED numerous tokens of regard from many.
I philanthropic gentlemen while I was in Lon-
don, which I shall never forget; but I was particu-
larly touched by the special kindness of Samuel
Morley, Esq., and George Hitchcock, Esq., of St.
Paul’s Churchyard. These two gentlemen invited.
me to dine with them every day at half-past one.
I gratefully accepted their invitation, and dined
alternately with these gentlemen, always receiving
a very warm welcome from them. The spirit of
manhood, one of the strongest elements of my mind,
was in no instance wounded, for I was invariably
received and entertained as a respected guest. One
day I was sitting at Mr. Morley's table, and was
about to partake of his bountiful supply of nourish-
ing food, when suddenly my mind reverted to the
past. I remembered the trying scenes of my event-
ful life, and that my only brother was still bound in
the iron chains of slavery, deprived of all the com-
forts of life, dragging out an abject, miserable ex-
istence, while I was surrounded with luxuries, and,


152 MRs. H. BEECHER Stowe’s “UNCLE Toyſ.”
sitting at the sumptuous table of one of the first men
in the kingdom. I could almost hear the clanking
of his chains, and, in my mind's eye, see him with
scarcely a crust of bread to satisfy his hunger, or a
glass of water to quench his thirst. I was so forcibly
impressed with my vision, that I rose from the table
without eating a mouthful of food.
Struck with my unusual appearance, for I had
always been cheerful and happy, Mr. Morley said,
“What is the matter, Josiah P. Has anything
occurred to disturb your peace of mind?”
At first I could not control my emotions suffi-
ciently, to reply. He added, “Come, come, Josiah,
do help yourself and make yourself at home.”
Soon I summoned the courage to tell him the
cause of my agitation, and asked him “to excuse
me from eating my dinner on that day, for I had
no appetite.” -
I then and there resolved in my own mind, that
as soon as I returned to America, I would make
every possible effort to secure to my brother the
blessed freedom I enjoyed.
Slavery had no power to eradicate the social ties
that bound the different members of a family to-
gether, and though families were often torn asunder,
yet memory generally kept the affections warm
and abiding.
I had made several efforts to induce my brother to
run away previous to my going to England. Mr.
William L. Chaplain, of New York, saw him in his
southern home, and tried to induce him to take the
underground railroad—that is, to run away. But he


154 MRs. II. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
‘marvellously attained. All my previous plans to
rescue my brother had failed, but I was not at all
disposed to relinquish the project. By the aid of
friends, I learned that the mistress to whom my
brother belonged would give him his freedom-papers
, for 400 dollars, and I concluded that I must raise
550 dollars, or about £110, so that I should be able
to take him to my home in Canada. I consulted
some of the Anti-Slavery friends in Boston, particu-
larly Amos Lawrence, Esq., and they agreed to pub-
lish the story of my life, as I had suggested to them,
that I might be able, from its sale, to raise a suffi-
cient sum of money to buy my brother's freedom. I
took a package of the books on my back and travelled
in the New England States, and succeeded in interest-
ing the people, so that I was enabled to raise the
money I required. Then, through the negotiation
of Mr. Charles C. Berry, cashier of the City Bank
in Boston, Massachusetts, who had friends at the
South, I joyfully sent the ransom. Soon my brother
came from Maryland to Baltimore ; thence by sea to
Boston, where I met him and took him to my home
in Canada, and kept him there for fifteen years.
When President Lincoln's Proclamation of Eman-
cipation gave freedom to all the slaves in America,
my brother's eldest son came to Canada to see his
father, and the meeting would have done President
Lincoln's heart good if he had witnessed it.
The son went back and remained with his mother
and brothers for three years. Then he came to
Canada to take my brother to rejoin his wife and
family in New Jersey; for after the Emancipation


CHAPTER XXV.
MRS. STOWE'S CHARACTERS.
MY visit To Mrs. Stow E.-wiiy I AM CALLED “UNCLE TOM.”
—IIER INTEREST IN MY LIFE-STORY..—HER FAMOUS ISOOK.—I:
IT AN ExAGGERATION ?—MRS. STOWE's KEY.
FTER my successful visit to England, I travelled
A. in Canada, and in Maine, New Hampshire,
Vermont, Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode
Island. In all these states I was cordially welcomed
as a speaker in the pulpits of the Congregationalists,
Presbyterians, Methodists, Baptists, and Universal-
ists. I held many meetings, and discussed the
subject of slavery in all its bearings on society. At
that time, slavery was considered to be a permanent
institution of the South, and it was supposed that
nothing but an earthquake would have the power to:
break up the foundations of the system. It is a
mistaken idea that the majority of the slaveholders.
would have sold their slaves if the government had
offered to buy them. They liked the system, had
grown up with it, and were not disposed to part
with it without a struggle. Anti-slavery ideas were
not popular at the South, nor generally at the North.
On this account, those who had sufficient moral
courage to discuss the merits and demerits of the


MRS. STOWE's CIIARACTERs. 157
system, were accustomed to hold meetings and con-
ventions for this purpose. I was constantly travel-
ling and doing all I could to help to change the
public sentiment at the North. I was in the vicinity
of Andover, Mass., where Mrs. Harriet Beecher
Stowe resided. She sent for me and my travelling
companion, Mr. George Clark, a white gentleman,
who had a fine voice for singing, and usually sang
at my meetings to add to their interest. We went
to Mrs. Stowe's house, and she was deeply interested
in the story of my life and misfortunes, and had me
narrate its details to her. She said she was glad it
had been published, and hoped it would be of great
service, and would open the eyes of the people to the
enormity of the crime of holding men in bondage.
She manifested so much interest in me, that I told
her about the peculiarities of many slaveholders, and
the slaves in the region where I had lived for forty-
two years. My experiences had been more varied
than those of the majority of slaves, for I was not
only my master's overseer, but a market-man for
twenty-five years in the market at Washington,
going there to sell the produce from my master's
plantation.
Soon after, Mrs. Stowe's remarkable book, “Uncle
Tom’s Cabin,” was published, and circulated in all
parts of America, and read openly at the North,
stealthily at the South. Many thought that her state-
ments were exaggerations. She then published the
key to the book to prove that it was impossible to
exaggerate the enormities of slavery, and she therein
gave many parallel cases, and referred to my pub-
7,


158 MRS. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
lished life-story, as an exemplification of the truth
of the character of her Uncle Tom. From that time
to the present, I have been called “Uncle Tom,” and
I feel proud of the title. If my humble words in any
way inspired that gifted lady to write such a plain-
tive story that the whole community has been
touched with pity for the sufferings of the poor
slave, I have not lived in vain; for I believe that
her book was the beginning of the glorious end. It
was a wedge that finally rent asunder that gigantic
fabric with a fearful crash.
Though she made her hero die, it was fit that she
did this to complete her story; and if God had not
given to me a giant's constitution, I should have
died over and over again long before I reached
Canada. I regard it as one of the most remarkable
features of my life that I have rallied after so many
exposures to all kinds of hardships. I am grateful
to God for His abundant mercies to me in bringing
me out of Egypt into the promised land, and I hope
to be His faithful servant to my dying hour.
The white slaves, George Harris, and his wife
12liza, were my particular friends. George Harris,
whose real name is Lewis Clark, is about three parts
white. He has travelled and lectured with me in
the New England States. He is a very ingenious
and intelligent man, as Mrs. Stowe represented him.
He and his wife lived in Canada for a long time
after their escape from slavery, and finally moved to
Oberlin, Ohio, to educate their children, for there
is still a great prejudice, in certain localities of
Canada, with regard to admitting children who


MRs. STowe's CHARACTERs. 159
‘have one drop of black blood in their veins, into
the schools where white children are taught; yet
the coloured people of those districts pay their pro-
portion of taxes and school-rates.
Many people thought that Mrs. Stowe's interest-
ing description of Eliza was a great exaggeration,
and that it was impossible for a slave woman to
escape in such a manner. That Mrs. Stowe had a
real incident for her character will be evident from
the following quotation from the published “Ike-
miniscences of Levi Coffin,” in which he gives the
truthful version of this thrilling incident, as told
him by the woman herself:
“She said she was a slave from Kentucky, the
property of a man who lived a few miles back
from the Ohio River, below Ripley, Ohio. Her
master and mistress were kind to her, and she had
a comfortable home, but her master got into some
pecuniary difficulty, and she found that she and her
only child were to be separated. She had buried
two children, and was doubly attached to the one
‘she had left, a bright, promising child, over two
years old. When she found that it was to be taken
from her, she was filled with grief and dismay, and
resolved to make her escape that night, if possible.
She watched her opportunity, and when darkness
had settled down, and all the family had retired
to sleep, she started with her child in her arms and
walked straight toward the Ohio River. She knew
that it was frozen over at that season of the year,
and hoped to cross without difficulty on the ico;
but when she reached its banks at daylight she found


160 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
that the ice had broken up and was slowly drifting
in large cakes. She ventured to go to a house near
by, where she was kindly received and permitted to
remain through the day. She hoped to find some
way to cross the river the next night, but there
seemed little prospect of any one being able to cross
in safety, for during the day the ice became more
broken and dangerous to cross. In the evening she
discovered that pursuers were near the house, and with
desperate courage she determined to cross the river
or perish in the attempt. Clasping her child in
her arms, she darted out of the back door and ran
toward the river, followed by her pursuers, who had
just dismounted from their horses when they caught
sight of her. No fear or thought of personal danger
entered Eliza's mind, for she felt that she would
rather be drowned than be captured and separated
from her child. Clasping her babe to her bosom
with her left arm, she sprang on to the first cake
of ice, then from that to another and another.
Sometimes the cake she was on would sink beneath
her weight, then she would slide her child on to
the next cake, pull herself on with her hands, and
so continue her hazardous journey. She became
wet to the waist with ice-water, and her hands
were benumbed with cold, but as she made her
way from one cake of ice to another, she felt that
surely the Lord was preserving and upholding her, P
and that nothing could harm her.
“When she reached the Ohio side near Itipley,
she was completely exhausted and almost breath-
less. A man who had been standing on the bank


MRS. STowe’s CHARACTERS. 161
watching her progress with amazement, and expect-
ing every moment to see her go down, assisted her
up the bank. After she had recovered her strength
a little, he directed her to a house on the hill in
the outskirts of the town. She made her way to
the place, and was kindly received and cared for.
It was not considered safe for her to remain there
during the night, so, after resting awhile, and being
provided with food and dry clothing, she was con-
ducted to a station on the underground railroad,
a few miles farther from the river. The next
night she was forwarded on from station to station
to our house in Newport, where she arrived safely
and remained several days.
“Other fugitives arrived in the meantime, and
Eliza and her child were sent with them by the
Greenville branch of the underground railroad to
Sandusky, Ohio. They reached that place in safety,
and crossed the lake to Canada, locating finally at
Chatham, Canada West.”
Eliza died in Oberlin this year, but her husband
is still an active, cnterprising man. IIis brother's
complexion is so nearly white, that it is almost im-
possible for any one, who is not acquainted with his
history, to perceive that he has any coloured blood.
He is in the Custom House in Doston, Mass.
There was on our plantation a negro girl, Dinah,
who was as near like Mrs. Stowe's Topsy as two peas
in a pod. Dinah was clear-witted, as sharp and
cunning as a fox, but she purposely acted like a
fool, or idiot, in order to take advantage of her mis-
tress. When the latter said, “Dinah, go and do


162 MRS. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
your work,” she would reply with a laugh, “Yes,
yes; when I get ready ;” or, “Go, do it yourself.”
Sometimes she would scream out, “I won’t ; that’s.
a lie—catch me if you can; ” and then she would
take to her heels and run away. She was so queer
and funny in her ways, that she was constantly
doing all kinds of odd things, but escaped the
whipping that other slaves, who did not behave half
so badly, had received daily, because her mistress.
thought she was an idiot.
There was a gentleman, Mr. St. Clair Young, who
lived in the neighbourhood of my old home. Ho-
was as kind-hearted as Mrs. Stowe's St. Clair. Soon
after I left the district, I learned that he became a.
converted man, gave his slaves their freedom, sold
his land, moved into Indiana, and preached as a.
Methodist minister.
It is a fact, that as soon as the conscience of a
slaveholder was aroused, he was obliged to give up,
his slaves or his religious convictions; for these
were so antagonistic they could not agree. Mr. St.
Clair Young had a sweet little girl who could easily
have been the original of precious little Eva. The
children of slaveholders were often kind-hearted,
good-tempered, and were genial companions during
their childhood, before they were old enough to ex-
•ercise authority. Then, under the influence of their
circumstances, slavery would often turn the mildest.
disposition into a cross one, the same as thunder will
turn sweet milk.
Bryce Litton, who broke my arms and maimed mc.
for life, would stand very well for Mrs. Stowe's,


MRS. STOWE'S CHARACTERS. 163
cruel Legree. Litton was the most tyrannical, bar-
barous man I ever saw, and I have good reason to
know that his revengeful and malicious spirit would
have led him to perform the most cruel acts. He
lived a miserable life, like a hog, and died like a dog
a few years after I left that part of the country. He
was universally detested even among slaveholders,
for when an overseer far exceeded the bounds of
what they termed humanity, he was a marked man,
his society was avoided, and his career was by no
means a pleasant one. Even slaveholders, like thieves,
had a certain creed of honour.
Mrs. Stowe's book is not an exaggerated account
of the evils of society. The truth has never been
half-told; the story would be too horrible to hear.
I could fill this book with cases that have come
under my own experience and observation, by which
I could prove that the slaveholder could and did
break every one of the ten commandments with im.
punity. A slave was not allowed to testify against
a white man in a court of justice, hence he had to bear
all the cruelties his master was pleased to inflict. I
could give statements of facts that would appal a
generous and kind-hearted soul.


CHAPTER XXVI.
THE MANUAL LABOUR SCHOOL AT DAWN.
rtºº BLES.–MISPLACED CONFIDENCE.-EYES OPENED.—LAWSUIT.-
Wilbertfolice UNIVERSITY.
IFFICULTIEs had arisen in the management of
D the Manual Labour Institution at Dawn,
before I visited England in 1851. Debts had ac-
cumulated, and I had pledged myself to take the saw-
mill and part of the land, and clear off the debts as
I have before explained. The school was established
with the express idea that it was not to promulgate
sectarianism. But those who had obtained control
over it, were inclined to drift it into a particular sect.
I opposed this, and hence incurred their disapproba-
tion. Soon after I visited England, and began to
raise a fund for the benefit of the school; but, as I
before stated, the dominant party attempted to
tounteract my efforts by slandering me. My com-
mittee in London proposed that a gentleman should
visit Canada, and ascertain the facts respecting my
personal character. Mr. Samuel Morley suggested
that I should go to Canada with the gentleman.
He said, “If things are as you say, Josiah, we will
provide a way for you to return, and you can then
inish your work here. Dut if you are an impostor,


166 MRs. H. BEECHER stowe’s “UNCLE Toyſ.”
moral lighthouse, a beacon whose illumination should
be perpetual.”
This looked reasonable, and I agreed with the
trustees when they conferred upon him the assign-
ment, for I knew that he was respected in London,
had been sent to the West Indies to inquire into the
condition of slavery there, and that his reports had
helped to secure the emancipation of the slaves in
the West Indies.
He presented the case to the committee in London,
and when he told them he expected they would
endorse him, Samuel Morley said, “We did not
authorise you to represent that we would shoulder
the responsibility of the school, and we cannot do
it.” It was decided that the committee would be
interested in the welfare of the school, but that they
would not incur any pecuniary risks for it.
In about two years the gentleman returned to
Canada, and took with him the funds I had raised
for the school debts. He bought up the debts, giving
to some 62 cents in the dollar, to others the full
amount. Then, his family being with him, he took
possession of the premises, and the charge of the
institution in earnest. IIe said, “I am going to
renovate this place, “de novo.’” I shall never
forget those words, they sounded so grandly to my
earS.
I soon found he intended to commence at the
beginning. I had great faith in his integrity, and
believed overy word he uttered, and at that time
would have pledged myself to carry out his ideas to
the uttermost. As the land was in splendid con-


TIIE MANUAL LADour SCIIooL AT DAWN. 167
dition, he probably anticipated having by-and-by a.
model farm, which would bring a large annuity.
It is my candid opinion that, in the beginning.
he intended to benefit the coloured race, and to have
a splendid school which should be the pride of tho.
neighbourhood. If he had been a practical instead
of a theoretical farmer, he doubtless would have
accomplished those blessed results. He soon began
to buy the most expensive cattle in the market, at
fancy prices, and without any reference to the fact
that he had not sufficient fodder to feed them after
he had them in his stables. IIe also bought ex-
pensive farming utensils to work the farm scientific-
ally, and then pulled down the school-buildings, as.
they were too primitive to suit his magnificent ideas,
and he promised to erect more substantial and com—
modious buildings. I upheld him in all these sugges-
tions, for I had a kind of respect for the man that,
almost amounted to veneration.
At his request, I often went to market with him,
and he generally asked my judgment about the finc-
cattle that he was constantly adding to his stock.
I sometimes ventured to suggest that they would
require a great amount of grain during the long
Canadian winter. Iłut he invariably declined to.
take my advice in this respect, and I concluded he
knew what he was doing, and must have had ex-
perience, or he would not have pursued such a reck-
less course.
One year passed away, and there were no school
buildings and no school. Our people said, “Surely
he will commence building next year.” The second


168 MRs. H. BEECHER STowk’s “UNCLE TOM.”
year passed away, and again Isilenced the question-
ings and murmurings; for I still had confidence in
his integrity of purpose. The third year passed, and
then the coloured people began to tell me “I was in
league with him, and that in some way he and I
were gaining pecuniary advantages from the cultiva-
tion of that splendid tract of three hundred acres of
land on the Sydenham River.”
Dy-and-by his finances became involved, and he
borrowed of me several hundred dollars to meet his
bills, and the fourth year passed; still there was no
school. He supported his family and his brother-in-
law's family from the farm that belonged to our
coloured people. True, the family of his brother-in-
law, from their straitened circumstances, frequently
came to my house for food, and my wife gave them
the best we had. The fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth,
and ninth year passed, and we had no school, and not
an individual could make any change. He had no
title to the land, so he had no power to sell this, and
it was a most fortunate thing. I had repeatedly said
to him, “The people are growling.” He replied,
“Let them growl.” He invariably refused to dis-
cuss the question. At length, when nine years had
passed, I began to doubt the man's intentions, and I
thought I would have a serious conversation with
him on the subject, and ascertain what he proposed
doing. I said to him as politely as I could, “The
people about here are beginning to talk very hard
about you and myself, and I do not want to let them
have any cause to think ill of us. If you will be so
kind as to give me some intimation when you propose


THE MANUAL LABOUR SCHOOL AT DAWN. 169
to commence the school-buildings I can satisfy them.”
He curtly replied, “When I get ready; when I
please.” I said, meekly, “It is quite unfortunate for
me, for my honour is impeached, as I have always
defended you.”
“What's your honour to me? I don't care what
they say.” IIe added, in a very dignified manner,
“I did not come here for the coloured people to
dictate to me.”
I replied, “If you really do not intend to build us
a school, you ought to leave the farm, and let us
manage for ourselves.”
With some excitement he said, “Pay me what I
have expended during the many years I have tried
to make this place meet its expenses, and I will go
at once.”
The scales fell from my eyes; I saw through the
man's motives. I went to the coloured people and
told them, sadly, “that I had been greatly deceived,
that we should never have a school until we gained
possession of the property, and that if I had a power
of attorney to act for them I would consult an able
lawyer, and ascertain what could be done.” A con-
vention of the coloured people of the region was
called. I was given by them the power of attorney
to examine the subject and act for them. I went
immediately to London, Canada, and laid the case
before Lawyer Wilson, since made a judge, and
Lawyer McKenzie, two eminent lawyers. They
promised to weigh the matter very carefully, and to
let me know the result. In about three months they
sent me word “that if I could find two substantial


170 Mrs. H. BEECIIER STowe’s “UxcLE Toxi.”
men, one coloured and one white, who owned free-
hold property unencumbered, and were willing to
pledge themselves to pay the costs, that they would
undertake the case.” They said “I must keep in the
background, while the two men should be the osten-
sible “relators.’” I found the men that same night,
and pledged myself to them “that I would pay the
costs if they would allow their names to be used.”
The attorney-general brought the suit for non-fulfil-
ment of trusts and formaladministration of the affairs
of the school. A clever lawyer of Toronto defended
the gentleman, and the war commenced in earnest.
In the beginning I paid two hundred dollars, and
borrowed money from time to time by mortgaging,
first one house and lot, then three houses and
lots, then re-mortgaged them, then sold several lots
to pay the mortgages, then re-mortgaged, and was
constantly called upon to pay disbursements to the
lawyers. It was an anxious, perplexing period, for
the case was taken from court to court, till seven
years had elapsed, when at last, wearied and ex-
hausted, the lawyer offered to give it up as a non-
suit if his expenses during these seven years could be
paid. To this we all agreed, and the important case
was decided in our favour. Then the Court of
Chancery appointed a new board of trustees, granted
a bill to incorporate the institution as the Wilber-
force University, also the power to sell the land,
which brought about 30,000 dollars, £6,000, in cash,
with a stipulation that the University should be
erected on a plot of ground in the same county. The
town of Chatham, Canada, was selected, and for four


THE MANUAL LABour school AT DAWN. 171
years the school has been self-sustaining, and has
been attended by many pupils. -
Thus ended seven years of perplexity and excite-
ment. During them I learned many practical lessons.
In the beginning of the contest the gentleman
left the premises, but installed his son as master
over them. I had leased a plot of ground on the
school-farm, and had ploughed it for several years.
When this young gentleman heard that my men
were ploughing the ground, he sent word to them
“to be off his premises.” I said to my men, “Go to
your ploughing to-morrow morning, and I will be
there to sustain you.”
The next morning my men began their work.
Soon the young gentleman appeared on the spot
with several of his men. He commanded mine “to
leave at once.” I was at hand, and said, “I leased
this land from your father, and as long as he retains
the possession of the whole farm I have a legal right
to work this plot, and I shall defend that right.”
He mildly said, “Why, Mr. Henson, is that you?
I thought you were a praying man, not a fighting
man?”
I replied, “When it is necessary I can fight, as I
have done for Canada when she was in trouble. I
intend to respect the rights of others, and they
must respect mine.” IIe soon became angry; first
came words, then blows. I could not prevent him
from bruising his head several times against my
heavy walking-stick, which I held before me to ward
off the blows he attempted to level at me. When
he was tired of that kind of play, he went off


172. MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE ToM.”
muttering a threat, “that he would have a writ
served upon me immediately.” I at once had my
fastest horse harnessed to my waggon, and rode off
to the nearest magistrate accompanied by a constable.
The magistrate readily gave me a writ for the young
gentleman. When we were returning we met him
within a mile from the railroad-station. He had
intended to go and see his father, and then have a
summons out for me. The constable alighted,
touched him on the shoulder, and said, “You are
my prisoner, in the name of the Queen, for assault
and battery on Josiah Henson on his own premises.”
He was crestfallen and very angry, especially
when he was obliged to walk between ten and
fifteen miles to Dresden to the court to have his
trial. His lawyer removed the trial from one court
to another, till at London, Canada, he was compelled
to pay costs and a bonus to end the suit. He gave
me no further trouble, for he perceived that I had a
practical knowledge of the common laws of the
country. This incident shows how important it was
for the coloured people to be able to defend their
natural and inalienable rights after they became
freemen and citizens of Canada.


CHAPTER XXVII.
IDOLS SHATTERED.
THE FATE OF THE SAWMILL.-HOW THE GRIST-MILL VANISHED
IN THE NIGHT.
s so many of my friends have been interested in
the history of the sawmill that was erected on
our school-premises, a few words about its fate may
be appreciated. It was a great undertaking to
secure the money necessary to purchase the materials
for the mill, and the building of it, and a great
responsibility to work it successfully. It would
have continued to have been a very profitable in-
vestment, as it was at first, had it been properly
managed; for the River Sydenham is navigable for
vessels, and we could send the lumber by water to
Detroit, or to almost any part of the United States.
Though there was no school on the premises, the
mill was leased to a man who employed forty or
fifty men, and they worked faithfully, sawed many
thousand feet of lumber, and the lumber was shipped
from time to time to different ports. After several
prosperous years there came a period of depression,
simply because the man who leased the mill did not
attend to his business carefully. At length he had
a lot of timber sawed, filled three vessels with it,
and these sailed for some unknown port. The man
M


174 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
-
disappeared and left his workmen in a starving con-
dition, with their wages in arrears. He gave out
the word that he was going off to lay in supplies for
the future. The men had no money and could not
procure the necessaries of life. They waited till
they were convinced their master did not intend
to return; then they vented their angry and re-
vengeful feelings on the mill itself, and tore up
even its foundations. Thus they ruthlessly destroyed
this valuable building, the establishment of which
had cost me so many anxious hours, and had proved
to be such a valuable piece of property in my hands.
When it was gone, I felt as if I had parted with an
old idolised friend.
Though Canada was the land of freedom to the
fugitive slaves, yet they met with so much prejudice
at first, on account of their colour, that it was
with difficulty they could procure the common com-
forts of life. When they endeavoured to have their
corn ground they found it no easy matter. A man
would often walk three and four miles with two or
three bushels on his shoulders, through paths in
which the mud was knee-deep, leave his corn at the
mill, and then go repeatedly after it in vain; he
would be put off with a variety of excuses till he was
quite discouraged, and would conclude that it was
almost useless for him to raise any grain; and yet
there was no other way for him to have a bit of
bread or corn-cake. I was tired of hearing these
complaints, which became real grievances, and with-
out having a spare dollar in my pocket, I determined
that, as the only remedy was to have a grist-mill,
independently of any already established, I would


IDOLS SHATTERED. 175
erect one and help the coloured people out of their
difficulties. º
Accordingly I went to Boston, Mass., among my
devoted friends, and told them of the necessities of
the case, and by their generous help, which, thank
God, has never failed me in an hour of need, I soon
collected 5,000 dollars, or £1,000, obtained a plan,
arranged for its building, introduced steam-power to
work it, and in a short time we ground the corn for
the entire neighbourhood, and this venture was a
decided success.
When the lawsuit commenced, I did not wish to
have any trouble with the young gentleman who
was placed on the school-premises, about the grist-
mill, which I had rented to a man. A short time
previously I, therefore, proposed to sell the mill, as it
belonged to me personally; but I agreed to move it
from the grounds of the institution, as I had no
lease of the land on which it was built, so I was
obliged to resort to stratagem to accomplish my
purpose. My son-in-law was the miller, and acceded
to my proposition, which was that twenty men
should be secreted in the mill one Sunday night,
and as soon as the hour of midnight had struck,
these men should carefully take down the mill and
remove every vestige, foundation, engine, and timber,
a short distance on to the road, which was the
common highway. By ten o'clock on Monday morn-
ing the mill had vanished, as if by magic, from its
old resting-place, and by noon it was carried off, in
ten or twelve teams that were in readiness, to Dres-
den. It was erected speedily, and it remains there
to this day, in splendid working order.


FUGITIVE SLAVES ENLISTING IN THE STATES. 177
could have carried a gun, I would have gone per-
sonally, but I thought it was my duty to talk to the
people. I told them “that the young and able-
bodied ought to go into the field like men, that they
should stand up to the rack, and help the govern-
ment.” My oldest son, Tom, who was in California,
enlisted on a man-of-war in San Francisco, and I
suppose he must have been killed, as I have not
heard from him since that time.
My son-in-law, Wheeler, enlisted in Detroit. I
advised the people, in general terms, to do the same,
and said that if any of them wished to go to enlist
early, so as to secure the bounty offered, I would
provide for their families till they could send the
bounty-money to them. A number went, and some
lost their bounty-money through “sharpers” lying
in wait for them. So I proposed to go with a
second lot, that they need not be annoyed in this
way. There was one man, named John Alexander,
who had decided to be of this second company. I
therefore sent some pork and clothing from the
stores to his wife and family, as they were poor. At
the last he gave me the slip, and during my absence
he traitorously and untruthfully declared “that I
had tried to induce him and others to enlist.” He
even testified to this statement before a magistrate,
and my wife telegraphed to me “to remain in Boston
and not return, for a writ was ready to take me as
soon as I appeared in Dresden, and if the charge
was proved, the penalty, by the Foreign Enlistment
Act, would be seven years' imprisonment.” At first I
thought I would remain away till the excitement


178 MRS. H. BEECHER Stowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
had subsided. Then I reflected that what I had
done was for the cause of Christ, and with good
motives; that the war was a righteous war; that
the coloured people ought to take some part in it.
I said to one of my companions, “God helping me,
I will not run away when I have done no wrong.”
I soon returned to Dresden, and rode in a waggon
to my own door in the most public manner; for I
was not ashamed to be seen. This was on a Thurs-
day afternoon about four o'clock. My family were
highly excited, and, with tears in their eyes, begged
me to go away; but I said, “I must remain and
have this slander cleared up publicly, as the whole
community had been discussing it.” The next
morning, Friday, before seven o’clock, the con-
stable, an old friend, came to my home. I was
sitting on the fence talking to my son-in-law. The
constable said, pleasantly, “Good morning, Mr.
Henson; have you any potatoes to sell?” “Good
morning,” I answered. “Yes, sir, I have some.”
“I should like to buy a few if you can spare any.”
“How many do you want?” “Ten or fifteen
bushels.” “I can spare one hundred bushels.”
“Oh, I do not want so many.” “Very well; I
suppose it is only one good black potato about my
size that you want, and you can have it if you
will come and get it.”
He at once came forward, put his hand on my
shoulder, and said, “Mr. Henson, you are my
prisoner in the name of the Queen. Here is a writ
for you.”
“All right, Bill.” His name was William Nellis.


Fue; FHVE SLAVES ENLISTING IN THE STATES. 179
“Let me have a bit of breakfast, and then you can
have me.” We went into the house, where my wife
and children were crying. I invited the constable
to eat, but he declined, saying he had eaten his
breakfast. We talked for half an hour. Then I
took my hat and said to him, “I am ready; how
are we going P. The writ says you must take me.”
The constable said, “If you will have your horse
and waggon prepared, I’ll pay for it.” “I will do
no such a thing; you must take me, and if you have
no other way, go get a wheelbarrow, for I will not
walk with you.” He argued with me for an hour
or two, till it was nearly noon. Then I said, “You
can go your way when you like, and you may tell
the squire I will soon be there.”
I found that two clever magistrates had arranged
everything before I came home. I was not allowed to
make a defence or to have a lawyer to plead my case.
One of the magistrates was prejudiced against me on
account of the interest I had taken in the suit against
the school-trustees; the other, Squire Terrace, was
my friend. But both were obliged to decide legally,
and if they had agreed as to the interpretation of the
law, there would have been no opportunity for me to
appeal from the magistrate's court. They did not
agree, and the case was referred to the next magis-
trate. When he had heard the statements, he could
not decide, and it was proposed to consult the county
attorney, Mr. McLean, of Chatham, who was a friend
of mine. I had worked faithfully for his grandfather,
and was esteemed by the family as a man who con-
scientiously kept his word, and tried to discharge


180 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
every known duty. Mr. McLean said, “I am sur-
prised to find these charges against Mr. Henson.
He is a common-sense man, and knows the laws
better than the majority of the people. There must
be a screw loose somewhere in this affair. If what
John Alexander has declared on oath be true, nothing
will prevent Mr. Henson from seven years' imprison-
ment in Kingston under the Foreign Enlistment Act,
which does not allow a man to entice or persuade
another to enlist in the army. Mr. Henson, give me
your version of the case.”
I then told the whole truth, word for word, and
did not dodge a single hair. I admitted that I had
given John Alexander's wife provisions, and said
“I would give them to any one, white or black, if
I had them to give, and the individual needed them;
but I did not suppose the man would turn my gene-
rosity against me in this base manner.” I perceived
that this was the only proof they had, and the man
called it bribery on my part to get him to enlist.
Squire McLean said, “We all know Mr. Henson’s
character, that he is an honest, upright, Christian
man. Now what is the character of his accuser? To-
day is Saturday; I will defer my decision till Mon-
day morning, and in the meantime inquiries can be
made respecting the veracity of John Alexander.”
How I should get released from the legal net that
was spread over me I did not know, but I trusted in
God; I knew He had delivered me many, many
times before from the lions’ den, and, like Daniel of
olden times, I now put my faith in Him. In my
heart I cried out, “O Lord, deliver me, but in


FUGITIVE SLAVES ENLISTING IN THE STATES. 181
prison, or under the free air of heaven, I will praise
Thy great and holy name.”
Still in the custody of the constable, I was allowed
to go home on Saturday afternoon. A man called
that night at my house and said to me, “There is a
man loading his boat up the river, a bit; he comes
from the same district where John Alexander lived
before he prowled about Dresden. This Smith says
Alexander is a thief, that he stole a lot of clothes
from a line in a yard there, and other things, and a
writ was taken out to apprehend him, but he ran
away, and is now trying to send an innocent man
to prison by telling a lot of lies, and he ought to be
stopped.”
As soon as this man left my house the constable
gave me permission to call on Squire Terrace. This
was Saturday evening. I gave him the drift of what
the man had told me of Smith's knowledge of John
Alexander. The squire said, “Go home and be
quiet over Sunday, for Monday morning before the
sun rises I will be at the river, and if I can find
that Smith, and he testify as you have represented,
I will have him in court on Monday morning by
nine o'clock.”
I remained quiet during Sunday, and my soul
was full of joy and rejoicing, for this unlooked-for
providence of God which I was sure would deliver me.
“Suppose he should not be found P” said one of
my family. I answered, “But he will, I am cer-
tain.” Though my fate hung upon a thread that
might easily be cut, I anticipated no evil results.
Early on Monday morning Squire Terrace was at


182 MRS. H. BEECHER STowes “ UNCLE Tom.”
--
the river's bank; he saw the boat half a mile off; he
hailed it, and said, “Is there a man named Smith on
that boat P” “I’m the man, sir.” “Come ashore,
I want to speak to you.” This Smith then told the
magistrate that he had worked with Alexander, and
that “he was a mean, lying thief, and he could
prove it.” “Enough ; I subpoena you to appear at
the court this morning by nine o'clock to testify in
this case,” Squire Terrace answered.
The time came. It was understood at court that
a witness would testify to the character of John
Alexander, who was present in an exultant frame of
mind. The witness was called. The attorney said,
“You have worked with John Alexander; is he
a trustworthy man P. Has he a good, reliable cha-
racter ?” Smith said, “He is one of the greatest
rogues out of prison.” Alexander was about to
interrupt him; but Smith looked him square in the
face, and said, “You know if you stepped your
foot where you used to work with me, you’d be
hustled off to prison, where you ought to go if you
got your deserts.” Squire McDonald exclaimed,
“What do you say? Is the man a rogue—has he
no character P”
“He has none, sir; but was obliged to “cut
sticks,’ as we say up in the country—that is, he gave
‘leg bail’ and ran away.” -
“Well,” said Squire McDonald, “if John Alex-
ander has no character, Mr. Henson has his
acquittal.” He was as much astounded at the
appearance of the witness as my accuser was. It
is needless to say that my friends and family re-


FUGITIVE SLAVES ENLISTING IN THE STATES. 183
joiced with me at this signal deliverance. I sent
John Alexander word “that the world, or that part
of it where I lived, was too small for him and me;
that if he crossed my path I was afraid I should be
tempted to shoot him.” He was in terror, for he
knew he deserved shooting, or a severe castigation.
At last he sent by a couple of friends a humble
request for me to forgive him ; I told them he must
come to me personally and acknowledge his con-
temptible meanness in the presence of three of my
friends, whom I named. He came at an appointed
time, and on his knees he confessed his sin and
ingratitude to me for my kindness to his family, and
in the name of the Lord begged my forgiveness.
I said, “It was about the meanest thing you could
do to defame me in my absence, when my character
was one of the most precious things I had to cherish.
You ought to be hung, and I have been tempted to
dispatch you; but I leave you in the hands of the
Lord; vengeance belongeth to Him, and not to me.
I forgive you. Go and sin no more.”
Not very long after, there was another peculiar
incident, connected with the civil war, which
threatened to give me some trouble. Many
in the States, both white and coloured, enlisted
merely to receive the bounty, and then they “jumped
the bounty,” as it was termed—that is, they took
the money and did not go into the army. A friend
of mine, Alexander Pool, a coloured man of my
neighbourhood, told me “that his son and wife's
brother were talking about running away to join the
army, but he thought he ought to get a bounty for


184 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
them, and he wished I would take them to Detroit
and advise them what to do.” I replied, “I do not
intend to subject myself to another trial on that
score. I don't care whether they enlist or not; still,
if they are going to the war, you ought to get some
of their bounty, and it would enable you to pay for
your land, but I can’t enlist them.”
He repeatedly asked my advice about the way to
get to Detroit, and at length solicited me to accom-
pany them there, and he offered to pay my expenses
and for the time I lost. I said to the lads, “It is
not my wish that you should enlist, but for your
father's sake I will go to Detroit with you to pro-
tect you from the sharpers.” We went, and they
entered their names as Martin Pool and Basil Pool,
and represented themselves as two brothers. I
thought by this that probably their idea had been
to run away, but the officer took possession of them
and handed me a packet of money in an envelope
directed to their father. I took from this package
one hundred dollars and sent to the two lads. I
took the remainder, eleven hundred dollars, to their
father. He gave me four hundred for my expenses
and trouble. The father had never seen so much
money as he now had in his possession, but instead
of using it for a good purpose he squandered it in
dissipation. These lads went to the war, were in
several battles, came back, and got their discharge.
They demanded some of their bounty-money from
their father. He pretended he had not received any.
They said, “I must have kept it,” and were very
angry. They demanded it of me; but I indignantly


FUGITIVE SLAVES ENLISTING IN THE STATES. 185
told them “that they might go back to their father
and ask him for it.” They consulted a lawyer, who
sent them to Squire McDonald, the same magistrate
who conducted my case with John Alexander. He
said, “I am surprised that Mr. Henson should have
had anything to do with enlisting men, for he knows
the law in such a case. I would advise you to make
no stir in the matter, but to go with me to see him.
Perhaps I can induce him to pay you something
down, and then by instalments in the future to make
up the difference.” He called upon me with these
lads, and said, “I am amazed to find that you have
enlisted these young men and appropriated their
bounty. I have called to suggest to you, Mr.
Henson, to pay them something to-day, and then
you can arrange to make up the balance at a more
convenient time.”
I replied, “Squire McDonald, I know nothing
of what you refer to. I have not done what these
men say.” I turned to them and said, “I suppose
you have your discharge-papers with you?” “Oh,
yes,” Basil Davis answered, eagerly, not suspecting
in the least my purpose in wishing to see them. He
pulled his out of his pocket. I turned to Squire
McDonald and said, “You had better look after
this man, he enlisted and was discharged under a
false pretence; why didn’t he use his right name,
unless it was to enable him to run off and ‘jump
the bounty?” and now, because he could not succeed
in escaping, but had to serve in the war, he must
come back and vilify my name; you had better
look after him.”


186 MRs. H. BEECHER stowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
The squire and his clients soon left me in peace.
As their shadows were retreating I could not help
laughing out loud and exclaiming, “Though there
are more ways to kill a dog than feeding him on
sweet cake, it will take cleverer lads to get the
better of Father Henson than those who have just
paid me a visit.” I, however, learned another lesson,
and thought that in the future I had better let
coloured volunteers gain wisdom and experience for
themselves, without giving them either advice or
personal assistance.


CHAPTER XXIX.
EARLY ASPIRATIONS CHECKED.
I) ESIRE TO LEARN TO SPELL. NIPPED IN THE BUD.—SUPERSTITION.
– INSURRECTION.-PREACHING AND ITS PENALTY. -NEGRO
SONGS.
HARP flashes of lightning come from black clouds,
S sprightly words of wit come from those who
live in dark hovels, and bright gleams of intelligence
come from children brought up in the most abject
ignorance of books. It has often been a mystery to
me how I gained a practical knowledge of figures,
enough to sell all the produce of four farms during
twenty-five years in the market at Washington, for
I had to compute fractions and make great estimates,
and yet I never studied arithmetic. I came in con-
tact with many of the most intelligent gentlemen in
Washington, for I used to take great pride in
selecting the best butter for some of the best families,
and was delighted to take it to their houses. They
manifested a great interest in me, and when they
conversed I listened attentively and remembered
their phrases and sentences, and in this way Ilearned
to speak more correctly than the majority of the
slaves, or even the poor whites of the district. I
never said “go dar,” or “gib me,” and other negro
phrases, for I was anxious to imitate those whom I


188 MRS. H. BEECHER stowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
respected as gentlemen. I also gained a very good
practical knowledge of law from hearing clever
lawyers talk and explain their cases. If I had been
a white boy and been blessed with the opportunities
to study law in my youth, I think I should have been
delighted with its study and practice. The know-
ledge I “picked up" has enabled me in several in-
stances to protect my own rights and those of my
people.
I shall never forget my first attempts to learn to
spell. I was about thirteen years of age, when I
nearly lost my life because I made an effort to gain
this kind of knowledge. The schools for the white
children were generally four or five miles apart, and
a negro boy was accustomed to drive his master's
children in a waggon to school in the morning, and
to go for them in the afternoon. A negro boy,
William, belonging to Lewis Bell, was a bright,
clever lad. He learned to read and to spell by
hearing his master's boys talk about their lessons
while they were riding to and from school. I was
so pleased to hear William read, that he told me if I
would buy a Webster's spelling-book in the store at
Washington he would soon teach me. I had already
made some ink out of charcoal, and had cut a goose
quill so that it looked like my master's pen, and I
had begun to make scratches on odd bits of paper I
had picked up in the market. I had noticed that
all the butter I sold was stamped with two letters,
“I. R.,” and after awhile I learned that those
letters stood for my master, Isaac Riley, and I tried
and tried to imitate those marks, and they were
really the first letters I ever wrote.


EARLY ASPIRATIONS CHECKED. 189
It seemed to me if I took some of the apples that
fell from the trees in the orchard and sold them I
should be able to get the money for the spelling-
book. I did this. Early the next morning I was
about to harness the horse for my master; the horse
was frisky and ran, and I ran to catch him, when
my hat fell off and the book in it dropped on to the
ground. After I had harnessed the horse my master
exclaimed, “What's that ?” “A spelling-book.”
“Whose is it?” “Mine.” “Where did you get
it?” “Bought it, sir, when I went to market.”
“BIow much was it P” “Eleven cents.” “Where
did you get the money?” “I sold some apples out
of our orchard.” “Our orchard l’’ he exclaimed, in
a passion. “I’ll teach you to get apples from our
orchard for such a vile purpose, so you’ll remember
it. Give me that book.” I stooped to pick it up,
and as I saw his big cane coming down I dodged.
“Pick up that book,” he cried, using an awful oath.
At last I was obliged to do it, when he beat nie
across the head and back till my eyes were swollen
and I became unconscious. My poor mother found
me in this state, and it was some time before I was
able to be about my work again. When my master
saw me after I recovered, he said, sneeringly, “So
you want to be a fine gentleman P Remember if
you meddle with a book again. I’ll knock yºur
brains out.” The wonder to me is, why I have any
brains left. I shall carry to my grave a scar my
master made that day on my head. I did not open
a book again till after I was forty-two years of age
and out of the land of slavery. There was so much
- M


EARLY ASPIRATIONS CHECKED. 191
incessant toil, and they were scantily supplied with
the poorest fare, which could not possibly give them
strength. When removed from the debasing influ-
ences of slavery, the fugitives, as a general thing,
had as keen perceptions of the sense of property as
the white population. It has been an exceptional
thing for a coloured man to steal after he reached
Canada; and stealing is regarded by him as a dis-
graceful sin. He knows he can enjoy the proceeds
of his own labour in the land of freedom, and all the
fugitives in Canada can earn their own livelihood if
they will exert themselves. At first they had to live
on roots and herbs; but after a few years they began
to own their own farms, to raise all kinds of grain
and vegetables, and to cultivate a great variety of
fruit-trees. All may now sit under their own vine
and fig-tree. Some have asked me “if those who
have been accustomed to a hot climate at the south,
do not find the cold Canadian winters long and un-
pleasant P” I have only one reply to make to that
query, “that cool freedom is far better than hot oppres-
sion.” It is easy to protect ourselves against the
inclemency of the weather, but we could not ward
off the blows of a cruel master, who was well aware
that it was necessary to crush the manhood of the
slave, to make him subservient to his master's selfish
interests.
Superstition and ignorance are generally found in
company together. Sixty years ago the whites in
Maryland and Virginia were very ignorant. With
the exception of the few who were educated at the
north and the professional gentlemen, not one man


EARLY ASPIRATIONS CHECKED. . 193
and the spell had to be broken by some doctor who
understood how to take advantage of this peculiar
feature of the negro's mind. Education soon clears
away all this belief in witchcraft.
In many districts the blacks far outnumbered the
whites. Sometimes one planter had 400 negroes on
an extensive plantation. The year before Nat Tur-
ner's insurrection, for which he lost his life, there
was an extensive organisation among the blacks who
represented a district of fifty miles in extent, in the
neighbourhood where I lived. The plans were well-
laid, every detail had been well-considered, even the
time when the blow was to be struck had been
appointed.
It was to be at eleven o’clock at night, when the
moon was full at that time. Certain slaves were to
fire the barns and stables in all the different planta-
tions comprised within the area, at the same hour.
Then others were to be stationed at the houses, and
as the masters rushed out to ascertain what the
matter was, the slaves were to kill them and then
kill the entire families, and burn up their houses.
“Not one white shall be left to tell the tale !” ex-
claimed an excited slave. I could not agree with the
leaders, and yet I felt that the evils of slavery could
not be exaggerated, and that we had a right to our
freedom. Little by little the light came to my
soul, till I was convinced that it was not a feasible
or Christian plan of procedure; so I began to raise
doubts and queries, to discuss the subject, and finally,
I had the moral courage to speak my mind plainly.
I said, “Suppose we should kill one thousand of the


194 MRs. H. BEECHER STowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
white population, we should surely lose our own
lives, and make the chains of those in bondage
heavier and more securely riveted. No, let us
suffer in God’s name, and wait His time for Ethiopia
to stretch forth her hands and be free.” At last I
prevailed on them to abandon the project. It is
certain that the slaves had provocation enough to
rise and take the places of their masters. I saw at
one time, a faithful fellow-workman receive 500
lashes on his bare back, simply because, when he
was a little tardy, he resisted being beaten by a came
over the head. He was nearly dead when he was
given into my care for me to look after his condition.
After I began to preach, I just escaped receiving
thirty-nine lashes at the public whipping-post in
Alexandria, near Washington, simply for asking the
Mayor to give me permission to comply with a re-
quest to preach there. He indignantly ordered me
to be taken to prison on the Saturday, and to receive
the whipping on the Monday or to pay a fine of 25
dollars. I had no money, and I prayed to God to
show me what to do. At last I found some one to
send to my master's young brother. He came to see
me in jail, and by giving him my watch, worth 45
dollars, he paid the fine and I was released. Before
we left the city, however, the blacks collected around
me, and the Lord opened my mouth, and I had the
moral courage to give them such a sermon as they
had not heard for a long time. As soon as I had
‘inished my sermon, my young master, who was ready
with his waggon, hurried me into it, and we rode
out of the city in great haste, for, as he told me, the


EARLY ASPIRATIONS CHECKED. 195
law would not allow me to preach openly to a number
of slaves in that district.
Under very different influences, I was talking or
preaching to a very large audience of intelligent
white ladies and gentlemen in Tremont Temple,
Boston, Mass., after I had escaped from slavery. I
had nearly finished my discourse, when, wrought up
to the highest pitch of excitement, I exclaimed, “I
wish I had the entire control of the southern slave-
holders for twenty-four hours!” A man at the
extreme end of that large hall jumped up, and said,
excitedly, “Mr. Chairman, may I ask the speaker
one question?” The gentleman who presided, fear-
ing that the man intended to raise a row, said,
mildly, “Mr. Henson has the platform, and no one
must interrupt him without his permission.” I said,
“The gentleman at the back of the house may ask
me the question.” He rose, and, in an excited
manner, rather sneeringly asked, “And pray, what
would you do with them P’’
There was a breathless silence, and all my friends
were anxious, not knowing how much I might be
agitated by my past memories of the cruelty of slave-
holders, and that I had cause for revengeful feelings,
if I did not manifest them. I said, in as loud and
deep a voice as I could command, “First, I would
have them all thoroughly converted to God; and
secondly, I would send them immediately to heaven,
before they had one minute's time to backslide.” I
then sat down, and there was such an uproar of cheers
and hurrahs as I had never heard at any meeting.
I may as well close this chapter by giving a


196 MRs. H. BEECHER Stowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
sample of the songs the slaves sing when the
family is about to separate because some of the
members have been sold to new masters. Some-
times they sing these plaintive melodies, clanking
their chains to keep time with their voices.
When I was down in Egypt's land,
Close by the river,
I heard one tell of the promised land,
Down by the river side.
Chorus. We'll end this strife,
Down by the river,
We'll end this strife,
Down by the river side.
I never shall forget this day,
Down by the river,
When Jesus washed my sins away,
Down by the river side.
Chorus.
'Twas just before the break of day,
Down by the river,
When Jesus washed my sins away,
Down by the river side.
Chorus.
Cheer up, cheer up, we're gaining ground
Down by the river. º
Old Satan's kingdom we'll pull down,
Down by the river side.
Chorus.
Shout, dear children, for you are free,
Down by the river,
Christ has brought to you, liberty,
Down by the river side.
Chorus.


CHAPTER XXX. .
MY FAMILY.
A NEW LIGHT IN MY DESOLATE HOME.-MY CHILDREN.—MY THIRD
VISIT TO ENGLAND.—MR. HUGHFS.
Y heart and home were desolate after I lost the
wife who had been my faithful companion in
slavery, and had escaped with me to Canada. For
four years it seemed to me her place could not be
filled. I kept company with no one; I never
walked out with any woman, and I thought it would
be so to the end; but I was so lonely, so utterly
miserable, that at last I decided that I would try to
find another companion. I had travelled exten-
sively, and had made many acquaintances, but I
knew of but one woman whom I cared to have for a
wife. She was a widow, an estimable woman, one
who had been a faithful teacher in the Sunday
school, and quite a mother in the church to which
she belonged. She had been brought up by a
Quaker lady in Baltimore, and had received a good
education in the ordinary branches. Her mother
had been a slave, but was such a superior laundress,
that she earned enough to buy her freedom of her
mistress, and then she earned enough to buy her


198 MRS. H. BEECHER Stowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
husband's freedom. One of her daughters has lived
for many years with a family, and she has travelled
with them around the world.
I went to Boston and called upon the pleasant
widow several times before I could summon the
courage to ask her if she would be my wife. It was
about two years before we were married in Boston
by our bishop, who was holding a series of meetings
at the time in the city. She has made me an excel-
lent wife, and my cup has indeed run over with
God’s mercies. She had one son and two daughters.
I have now seven living children. My eldest son,
Tom, went to California, and I think was killed in
the civil war, for I have not heard from him since
he enlisted. Isaac, my second son, was a clever and
godly lad. He was educated in a school in London
for many years through the kindness of my London
friends. He married, was ordained as a Wesleyan
minister, and preached for about fifteen years. He
died when only thirty-seven, and was universally be-
loved. My third son, Josiah, was very anxious to
learn the shoemaker's trade, but I persuaded him to
help me on my farm. At twenty-two he married
a very capable young woman, and then he said, “I
am determined now to have my own way, father;
I’ve tried to stick to the farm, but I can't do so any
longer; I know I can make my way.” He left
Canada, and went to Jackson, Michigan, where there
was a great prejudice against employing coloured
young men in the shoe-business. He found an
English boot and shoe-maker there who agreed to
teach him. He was bound to him for two years. ,


MY FAMILY. 199
His young wife was a good washer and ironer, and
she went out to work by the day, and obtained ex-
cellent wages, and the young people were very
happy. At the end of the two years his master
said to me, “Young Josiah Henson is a clever fellow.
He can make as good a boot as his master.” My
son then went to Adrian, where there was an anti-
slavery college. He bought a couple of lots of
ground in time. He worked at his trade during the
winter, and in the spring went out to do lathing,
plastering, and hanging paper in the houses of some
of the best people. He was very fond of horticul-
ture, and has cultivated a great variety of fruit
trees. He has continued to do well, and now has
property worth several thousand dollars. My fourth
son, Peter, is a farmer, looks after my farm, and
stays with me. -
My four daughters are married; all of them can
read and write very well, and one of them has been
educated for two years in Oberlin. There has been
a great change in the condition of the coloured
people since I first went to Canada. Then, there
was not a Bible or a hymn-book for a coloured indi-
vidual to use for several hundred miles; and none of
us could have read the Bible if we had possessed
one; but now there are in every cabin the elements
of education. When it was known I had preached
at the South, I had urgent requests to labour in this
way in Canada, and as a Methodist episcopal elder I
have had a district of three hundred miles, over
which I have travelled, held meetings, attended
conferences, have established churches, and been


200 MRS. H. BEECHER Stowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
interested in every movement that has been started
for the improvement of our people.
We have had great assistance from the late Rev.
Mr. Hughes, the Secretary of the Colonial and Con-
tinental Missionary Church Society in Canada (who
died April 11th, 1876). For sixteen or seventeen
years he worked most zealously as a missionary
in Canada; he was always my devoted friend; he
knew all my troubles with regard to the school, that
my finances had been crippled by my mortgaging
my property to pay the expenses of that lawsuit
during seven years, and he proposed that I should
again visit London in my old age, and he assured
me that my old friends would rally to my assistance.
It was a sad day to me when, only three months
before I left Canada, I was summoned to his dying
bedside. His last moments were peaceful, and his
faith to the last was triumphant. He died as he
had lived, a genuine Christian. In the last annual
report of the Colonial and Continental Church
Society, which has reached me since I came to
London, he has kindly referred to my mission in
London as follows: “Josiah Henson (Mrs. Stowe's
“Uncle Tom'), who, I think you are aware, resides
near Dresden, proposes starting in a week or two for
England. His principal object will be to try to raise
money to clear off a heavy mortgage he had to give
on his farm in order to meet the costs of the long
lawsuit over the Dawn Institute property, and
which but for him would have been entirely lost.
Mr. Henson bore the whole expense of that suit,
and when the case was settled it was found that the


1MY FAMILY. 201
trustees, appointed by the Court of Chancery, had
no power to refund him out of the estate. The
proceeds of the sale of the Dawn property, nearly
30,000 dollars, constitute the greater part of the
endowment of the Wilberforce Educational Insti-
tute. You will be pleased to learn that this insti-
tute is now in active operation, and if only wisely
managed in the future will be a great blessing, in
an educational point of view, to the coloured people
of Canada. A voyage to England is no light under-
taking for a man of Henson's extreme age, he being
now eighty-seven. Though he is not by any means
the man he was when in England twenty-five years
ago, yet he still possesses extraordinary energy both
of body and mind, and knowing, as I do, his circum-
stances, and the hardship of his case, I sincerely hope
he may be successful.” -
It may be well to add a few of many testimonials
I received, when it was known I intended to visit
England:—
“We, the undersigned, beg to certify that we
have known the Reverend Josiah Henson for a
number of years; that he has resided, as we be-
lieve, in the County of Kent, Ontario, for the last
forty-five years; that he has ever borne the highest
character in this community, and is worthy of the
confidence of the public.—Wm. Bryant Wells, Judge
C. C. Co. Kent, Ontario; John Mercer, Sheriff,
Kent; Wm. Douglas, Clerk of the Peace, Kent;
H. Smythe, Mayor, Town of Chatham; Francis W.
Sandys, A.M., Archdeacon of Kent, Ontario.—Chat-
ham, 25th April, 1876.”


202 MRs. H. BEECHER stowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
“Memorial Church Rectory, London, Ontario,
May 16, 1876.--To the Secretaries of the Colonial
and Continental Church Society.—Dear Sirs, In
the last report to the Society, our lamented friend
Mr. Hughes speaks of a proposed visit to England
of the Rev. Josiah Henson (Mrs. Stowe’s “Uncle
Tom’) for the purpose of raising funds to clear
off a mortgage which Mr. Henson had to give on
his farm in order to meet the costs of a lawsuit
over the Dawn Institute. The object of this note is
to introduce him to you, hoping that you may be
able to further his cause in England. He was well
known to the friends of the coloured race twenty
years ago, but the changes make it essential that he
should have some who can recommend him in his
present effort. You are already acquainted with the
work of the Wilberforce Institute, which has been
sustained at great personal expense by Mr. Henson.
His experience as a slave, and as a preacher among
the fugitives in Canada, makes his story extremely
interesting. Mrs. Stowe, in her ‘Key to Uncle
Tom’s Cabin,” gives a sketch of his life to confirm
the character she has painted. On the authority of
Mr. Hughes, who knew Mr. Henson for many years,
and thought most highly of his work and character,
I beg to introduce to you one who has been a great
blessing to his coloured brethren in Canada. If you
can give him any letters, or further his cause in any
way, it will assist the movement with which the
Colonial and Continental Church Society has been
connected for many years.-Yours very sincerely,
W. Harrison Tilley, Clerical Secretary to Corre-


MY THIRD AND LAST visit To LoNDON. 205
always received the most generous treatment, both
in America and England, from the members of
the Friends’ Society, and specially from George
Sturge, Esq., who has interested himself to the
extent of assuring me he would send me back to
my Canadian home with a light heart. I am cer-
tain my heart will be heavy with gratitude, for it
will be full of that emotion, and I shall pray to my
dying day for blessings to rest upon one who has
afforded me so much relief.
Among the new friends I have made are Pro-
fessor and Mrs. Fowler, formerly of New York, now
residing in London, and I have always felt at home
in their pleasant office. -
Professor Fowler, with his remarkable skill, gave
me an analysis of my character from my head. I
told him “I should have supposed my old master
had beaten out all my brains,” but he humorously
remarked “that perhaps my skull was so thick, the
blows did not penetrate.”
The description he gave of me was published, with
my portrait, in the Christian Age, a weekly paper,
and notwithstanding there were 80,000 copies of
this number circulated, a third edition had to be
printed to meet the demand. I am sure Professor
Fowler's description will be of interest, and there-
fore give it insertion here.
“The organisation of “Uncle Tom’ is as remarkable
as his life and labours have been. His father was
six feet in height, and was a very powerful, muscu-
lar man. He had a strong sense of justice and
virtue, and an unflinching will. His son, Uncle
Tom, is five feet seven inches in height.
O


206 MRs. H. BEEchER stowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
“From his father he inherited a very strong osseous,
muscular system, and a powerful constitution, as his
physiology indicates and his most laborious life has
proved. He has a large brain, twenty-three inches
in circumference, with a predominance of brain in
the superior coronal region, indicating great mental
vigour, compass of mind, and availability of talent.
His head is narrow, long, and high. The strength
of his social nature centres in love to his wife and
children, especially the latter, which he has proved
to be intense, by his carrying two of his children on
his back 600 miles, travelling on foot during the
night, while fleeing from slavery and seeking his
freedom on British soil in Canada. His head is very
high in the crown and above the ears. No white
man has a greater sense of liberty, love of freedom,
manliness of feeling, and independence of mind,
joined to a degree of firmness, perseverance, and
determination of mind, not exceeded by a Cromwell
or a Wellington, than Uncle Tom. His sense of
moral obligations and love of truth are very strong.
“He is scrupulously honest, and his mind is as
transparent as daylight. He is not inclined to
double dealing, deception, and hypocrisy, undue
selfishness or greed in his disposition, but he is
cautious, looks ahead, and prepares for the future.
“He has by organisation, as well as by grace, a
strong feeling of devotion, worship, and sense of
dependence. As a Christian, some of his strongest
religious feelings are his love of prayer and thank-
fulness, and his disposition to seek aid and consola-
tion from a higher source than man in the hour of
trouble. The exercise of his veneration was his com-


MY THIRD AND LAST visiT To LoNDoN. 207
fort when a slave, and it has been a comfort to him
through all the vicissitudes of life. Benevolence is
also very large; he is full of the missionary
element, delights to do good, and many years
of his life have been spent in labours of love. He
is liable to forget his own interests when he can
make himself useful to others. In his mind, “faith
without works is dead.’ He does not expect an
answer to his prayers without he makes an effort in
the right direction. He is active, industrious, and
delights to be occupied; is always busy in one way
or another ; and is not afraid of hard work if neces-
sary. His mind works slowly but quite safely.
When he has an object he holds on to it till his end
is accomplished. He is one of the real plodding
kind. He has not the qualities to render him shöwy.
and imaginative, but he has good powers of imitation,
and can easily adapt himself to a change of situation
and circumstances. He has a vast amount of dry
humour, and is very direct, practical, natural, and
truthful in his style of talking. His intellectual
faculties are of the most practical and common-sense
kind.
“He has superior powers to draw correct conclusions
and inferences, as he understands them. He deals
mostly in facts, conditions, qualities, and bearings
of things, and turns all his knowledge into useful
channels. He has a remarkable gift for observing
everything that is transpiring around him; has a
superior memory of persons he sees, facts he hears,
of places, events, and anecdotes; and his mind is
like a great storehouse, in which he has collected a
vast amount of interesting incidents. He has a good


208 MRs. H. BEECHER stowe’s “UNCLE TOM.”
capacity to arrange, systematise, organise, and plan,
with reference to definite results.
“He is a great lover of simple truths; acts and
speaks just as he feels, and thinks instinctively;
cannot assume a character and appear differently
from what he really feels, and has a thorough abhor-
rence of hypocrisy or falsehood. He has great
courage in times of danger, also great presence of
mind and great self-control in the midst of excite-
ment and opposition.
“He is not revengeful, but has any amount of con-
temptuous feeling towards those who act meanly.
He is more direct in his style of talking than copious
or wordy; yet, having but little restraint from
secretiveness, and so much varied knowledge and ex-
perience, he finds it easy to talk when he has atten-
tive listeners.
“Though in his eighty-eighth year, he appears to
be at least fifteen years younger, for he is firm in
step, erect in form, disposed to wait on himself, and
prefers to walk rather than ride; is positive in his
manner of speaking, social in his disposition,
emotional in his feelings, tender in his sympathies,
distinct in his intellectual operations, humorous in
his conversation, and apt in his illustrations. While
many at fifty years of age consider that there is no
opportunity left for them to improve their condition,
Uncle Tom, at eighty-eight, is buoyant, elastic, and
still anxious to make improvements.
“I have been much gratified in making the ac-
quaintance of “Uncle Tom,’ and hope the friends of
the coloured race in England will send him back to


MY THIRD AND LAST visit To LoNDON. 209
Canada with sufficient means to enable him to live
in comfort the remainder of his days.”
Another of my new friends is Mr. John Lobb (the
managing editor of the Christian Age). He has an
extensive acquaintance with most of the evangelical
ministers in London. He has arranged all my
engagements, assisted me in addressing, at their
request, very large audiences in public buildings,
chapels, and places of worship. Indeed, he has on
every public occasion rendered me material assist-
ance as my Chairman. Under such obligations, I
felt it to be a pleasant duty to make some acceptable
acknowledgment, which I trust it will prove to be.
I have therefore assigned the sole copyright of this
work to Mr. John LoBB.
On my visit to London in 1851, I had made
acquaintance with the family of Mr. Thomas Church,
author of “Gospel Victories,” and was glad to renew
our friendship and love in 1876. I thank him for
so ably assisting in my correspondence while in
London.
I cannot omit to acknowledge my obligations to
Dr. Macaulay, of the Religious Tract Society, and
the able editor of a widely prized monthly, called
the Sunday at Home. To other remembrances of
kindness, I feel thankful for his excellent article in
the October part for 1876, headed “Uncle Tom,”
and his confirmatory observations in favour of my
history, and the object of my present visit to London.
Invitations have come from all parts of England,
Ireland, and Scotland, for me to speak to the people,
but my strength was not sufficient to undertake all.
I copy from the Christian Age, the following


210 MY THIRD AND LAST VISIT TO LONDON.
“SUMMARY OF • UNCLE TOM'S' PUBLIC
SERVICES.
IN August, 1876, on Sunday, at Victoria Park Tabernacle, to a
congregation exceeding 2,000 persons.
At Wood Green, on Thursday, in the “Tent” erected for evan-
gelistic services by T. B. Smithies, Esq., editor of the “British
Workman.” In the unavoidable absence of Baroness Coutts, she
kindly deputed Rev. Mr. Sinclair to take her carriage and place it
at “Uncle Tom’s” service at the close of the proceedings.
In September, 1876, again at Wood Green, in the Wesleyan
chapel, which accommodated over 1,000 persons.
Little Wild Street Baptist Chapel, Drury Lane.—Crowded beyond
the capacity of the place.
Epsom.—This neighbourhood has been rarely moved with an
excitement like that which followed “Uncle Tom’s” visit here.
Brixton.—On Friday, at the Congregational Church, to a large
and appreciative audience.
Mildmay Park.-On Sunday, in this large and beautiful Con-
ference Hall; although it seats 2,500 persons, the building was
crowded in every part, and hundreds failed to gain admission.
Stoke Newington.—On Sunday evening, in the Congregational
Church, Walford Road.
Wallington.—On Wednesday the place of meeting was thronged.
Rev. Dr. Whittemore, and Rev. J. Williams, of the vicarage, taking
part in the proceedings.
New North Road Congregational Church, though capacious,
was overcrowded on Thursday; and a second meeting in the large
schoolroom was conducted at the same time, “Uncle Tom,” after
the chapel address, adjourning to supplement the other meeting,
to the intense delight of all. -
Milton Road Congregational Church, in Stoke Newington, was
also crowded in every part by a large company.
Mayfield Terrace Wesleyan Chapel on Sunday was, though large
and commodious, filled to overflowing.
Mile End.—On Sunday, the great tent belonging to F. N.
Charrington, Esq., was filled, “Uncle Tom " also delivering a
lecture on the Monday evening.
The South Coast.—During the week “Uncle Tom " addressed
large audiences in Portsmouth, Southampton, and in the Town
; at Ryde, Isle of Wight.
Her Majesty's Ship “Victory.”—“Uncle Tom’ visited this
famous vessel, which bore Nelson's flag, and on the deck of which
he received his death-wound in the moment of triumph over the
combined fleets of France and Spain, off Cape Trafalgar. By com-
mand, the whole of the ship's officers and crew were collected to
receive an address from “Uncle Tom.” To each of the company
a copy, was presented of the Christian Age, containing “Uncle
Tom’s” portrait.


212 APPENI) IX.
Messrs. Hitchcock and Williams', St. Paul's Churchyard-
“ Uncle Tom " gave an address here to the employees, George
Williams, Esq., founder of “The Young Men's Christian Associa-
tion,” presiding. Mr. John Lobb, on introducing “Uncle Tom,”
said, “Here is the hero of Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe's “Uncle
Tom's Cabin;” the “Uncle Tom’’ who rescued Eva from a
watery grave; the “Uncle Tom " who accompanied George Harris
to Mrs. H. B. Stowe's residence, whose united history furnished
her with such interesting records as appear in “Uncle Tom's
Cabin,” of world-wide fame; the “Uncle Tom,” too, so maimed
for life by Legree, but whose real name is Bryce Litton, as re-
corded in Mr. Henson’s “Life,” and confirmed in pages 34 to 57 of
Mrs. Stowe's Key to “Uncle Tom's Cabin.”
Pictoria Park Tabernacle.—Over 2,000 persons were present,
when a handsomely composed testimonial, duly framed, was pre-
sented to ‘UNCLE TOM.’”
FINIS.
APPENDIX A.
A SKETCH OF MIRS. H. BEECHER STOWE.
LTHough this esteemed lady, of a noble family, enjoys a
- world-wide fame, there may probably be many to whom
the succeeding lines, descriptive º her character and history,
will be of interest. Her father was Lyman Beecher, D.D., born in
1771, and, until of mature age, he was brought up to the trade of
his father, a blacksmith. After leaving it for a course of study at
Yale College, New Haven, he entered upon the work of the ministry.
For some time Dr. Lyman Beecher was pastor of a church at Lich-
field, and here Harriet Beecher was born, A.D. 1812. Ultimately
he removed to Boston; and in 1832 quitted it for Lane, in Cincin-
nati. Here Lyman Beecher took charge of the seminary, and sought
to establish collegiate studies in connection with self-supporting
labour. In this enterprise Professor Calvin Stowe took part, and
for a time their work prospered. The slavery then existing in the
United States led to its overthrow. The year 1830 had witnessed
the French revolution. An agitation had sprung up in England
- º


APPENDIX. 213
against Colonial Slavery. American judicial courts had imprisoned
and fined many who had spoken against slavery. All these historic
facts called the attention of philanthropists in the United States to
the evils and crime of slavery ; Dr. Beecher's seminary could not
resist the rising discussion of that crowned iniquity . The mob
threatened, and Kentucky slaveholders went over to urge it on to
violence. To save the property, the trustees interfered, and calmed
the mob by the assurance that slavery should not further be dis-
cussed in the seminary. Another rebellion came from within, for
the students refused to obey the order of the trustees, and left the
seminary in a body. For years Beecher and Stowe sought in vain
to restore the prosperity of that seminary. In 1850 they returned
to the Eastern States—Stowe to the Professor's chair of Biblical
literature in Andover Theological Seminary, and Lyman Beecher
to the work of the ministry in Cincinnati.
Harriet Beecher spent eighteen years in this Lane Seminary;
having previously assisted her sister Catharine, in the conduct of a
training school for female teachers. Cincinnati is a city situated
on the northern bank of the Ohio; and upon the high hill, whose
point, crowned with an observatory, overhanging the city on the
west, was Lane Seminary. The village nearest to it was called
the Walnut Hills and one of the prettiest in the environs. It was
here, therefore, that Harriet Beecher lived, and helped her sister
in teaching, until her marriage, at the age of twenty-five, with
Professor Calvin E. Stowe, of the Seminary, over which her father
then was president. But few of Mrs. H. Beecher-Stowe's numerous
offspring have survived. Mrs. Stowe says:–
“Charlie, the most beautiful of my children, and the most be-
loved, lies buried near my Cincinnati residence. It was at his
dying bed and at his grave that I learnt what a poor slave-mother
may feel when her child is torn from her. In the depths of my
sorrow, which seemed to me immeasurable, it was my only prayer to
God that such anguish might not be suffered in vain.
“There were circumstances connected with this child's death of
such peculiar bitterness—of what might seem almost cruel suffering
—that I felt I could never be consoled for it, unless it should appear
that the crushing of my own heart might enable me to work out
some great good to others. -
“His death took place during the cholera-summer, when in a
circle of five miles around me, 9,000 were buried—a mortality
which I have never heard exceeded anywhere.
“My husband, in feeble health, was obliged to be absent the
whole time, and I had sole charge of a family of fifteen persons.
He did not return to me, because I would not permit it ; for in
many instances where parents had returned from a distance to their
families, and to the infected atmosphere, the result had been sudden
death, and the physicians warned me that if he returned, it would
only be to die. My poor Charlie died for want of timely medical
aid; for in the universal confusion and despair that prevailed, it
was often impossible to obtain assistance till it was too late.”


214 APPENDIX.
Between 1835 and 1847, Cincinnati became the prominent battle-
ground of freedom and slavery. It will now be clear to the reader
how painfully familiar Mrs. H. B. Stowe became with the horrors
of slavery. The road which ran through Walnut Hills, only a few
feet from Mrs. Stowe's door, was ultimately a favourite route of
“The Underground Railway,” so called, and so familiar in the
pages of “Uncle Tom's Cabin.” The “railway” consisted of a
noble line of Quakers and other anti-slavery friends, who lived at
intervals, say, of fifteen or twenty miles, between the Ohio River
and the Northern Lakes. These friends had combined to help
fugitive slaves forward in their escape to Canada. A fugitive would
be taken at night, on horseback or in a covered waggon, from
station to station, as described, until he stood on a free soil, and
found the British banner floating o'er his head. Or,
“Thus when herform flits wildly by,
With bloodless cheek and fearless eye,
Resolved to free her child or die,
We still our very breath—
Till, safely on the farther shore
She stands, the desperate journey o'er
So fraught with life and death.”
Referring once more to the “Underground Railway,” we may
remind our readers that the first station north of Cincinnati was a
few miles up Mill Creek, at the house of the pious and lion-hearted
Wanzant, otherwise called Van Trompe in “Uncle Tom's Cabin.”
Such being the roadway, Mrs. Stowe would inevitably be roused,
and frequently, by the rapid rattle of the covered waggons, and
the noisy galloping of the horses ridden by the constables and slave-
catchers, who would be in hot pursuit as they madly passed her
door. Wanzant (the “Honest }...; as he was called) was always
ready to turn out with his team, and the hunters were rarely clever
enough to come up with him. He has long since filled a martyr's
grave. Mrs. Stowe, therefore, during her long residence on the
frontier of the slave states, by several visits to them, would natu-
rally become familiar in observations of them, and furnish herself
with ample material her masterpiece on slavery. We cannot
refuse one of Mrs. Stowe's sketches in 1840. “The slave-catchers,
backed by the riff-raff of the population, and urged on by certain
politicians and merchants, attacked the quarters in which the
negroes reside. Some of the houses were battered down by cannon.
For several days the city was abandoned to violence and crime.
The negro-quarters were pillaged and sacked. Negroes attempting
to defend their property were killed, and their bodies thrown into
the streets. Women cruelly injured by ruffians, some afterwards
dying of their injuries. Houses were burnt, and men, women, and
children were betrayed in the confusion, and hurried into slavery.
From the brow of the hill on which I lived, I could hear the cries
of the victims, the shouts of the mob, the reports of guns and
cannon, and could see the flames of the conflagration. To more
than one of the trembling fugitives I have given shelter, and wept
bitter tears with them. - After the fury of the mob was spent,
* x


APPENDIX. 215
many of the coloured people gathered together the little left them
of worldly goods and started for Canada. Hundreds passed in front
of my house. Some of them were in little waggons. Some trudging
along on foot after their household stuff. Some leading their
children by the hand. And there were even mothers who walked
on suckling their infants, and weeping for the dead, or kidnapped
husbands they had left behind.” Before concluding this sketch we
would observe that, by the verdict of England's people, “‘Uncle
Tom's Cabin’ takes its place as a standard work amongst the beauties
of English literature.” As Earl Carlisle said: “Its genius, pathos,
and humour, commend themselves.” As the Rev. James Sherman
said: “It is as irresistibly attractive to the learned and unlearned
as Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress.” It has been translated in France,
Holland, Germany, Italy, Sweden, Russia, and Spain. The
supreme joy, however, to Mrs. Stowe"must have been that Provi-
dence has prolonged her valuable life to witness the consummation
of her prayers and toils—the abolition of slavery A more recent
pleasure is, that the hero of her “Cabin,” “Uncle Tom,” has paid
his third visit to England, even in his eighty-eighth year ! Rev.
J. Henson (who supplied the principal facts of his life to Mrs.
Stowe, and upon which she built her inimitable work of “Uncle
Tom ") has been received in town and country with great interest,
and by many thousands of people. Among other objects of
interest in his travels, he has addressed the officers and crew of
Lord Nelson's line-of-battle ship—the old “Trafalgar.”
May the closing years of Mrs. Stowe and Josiah Henson be happy
and triumphant May the fruits of their spiritual life-work swell
the “multitude of the redeemed !” The night is short, and the
morning will soon dawn
APPENDIX B.
“A LOST continist."
sIAvery AND THE slave-TRADE IN AFRICA. As IT Now is.
[By the kind permission of the author, Joseph Cooper, Esq., We
earnestly enlist the attention and sympathy of our readers to the
following extracts which we have taken from his mournfully in-
teresting work, entitled, “A Lost Continent," published by
Messrs. Longmans, Green, and Co.] -
“When the events of the present age pass into history, probably
no greater anomaly will be observed than the state of the vast con-
tinent of Africa during this part of the present century. The
slave-trade at the present time extends over the greater part of the
northern, southern, and central regions, and covers an area nearly
equal to that of the whole of Europe.”


216 APPENDIX.
“Notwithstanding all that has been done, the African slave-
trade as a whole, is, at this moment, probably as great as it has
been at any previous time.”
“The slave-trade has now existed more than three centuries,
and within that period, according to a careful French writer,
more than fifty millions of slaves have been taken from Africa.”
“The traffic mostly now carried on by the overland routes east-
ward has enormously increased. The principal countries on behalf
of which the present Afriean slave-trade is carried on are Turkey,
Egypt, Persia, Tunis, Morocco, and Madagascar. On them the
responsibility for the present state of Africa now mainly rests.”
“Sir Bartle Frere, in the Blue Book presented to the Houses of
Parliament in 1873, states that, ‘The correspondence of the Central
African Vicariate Apostolic extends over countries roughly esti-
mated at having a population of 80,000,000 of negroes, between
the Red and Arabian Seas on the east, and the Atlantic on the
west ; and the annual drain consequent on slavery is estimated
by the Superior of the Mission at 1,000,000.’ Dr. Livingstone
calculated that not more than one slave in five arrived at his desti-
nation, and on some routes not one in nine. This does not include
the loss of life caused by the torture of boys for the markets of
Egypt and Turkey, under which two out of every three perish.”
“In all the expeditions it should be borne in mind that the
cause of the natives is never heard. We only hear the statements
of the Europeans who enter into these engagements, and they go so.
equipped and armed that, it has been forcibly remarked, their lives
are insured. When any great amount of slaughter has been com-
mitted the aggressors congratulate one another on their bravery and
gallant bearing, and the world applauds.”
“At the present moment England, France, and America may,
in a certain sense, be said to patronise slavery in the East. Their.
Consuls in those countries appoint agents in the principal towns
and centres who are supporters of slavery and owners of slaves.
Over the roofs of their houses wave the flags of Christian nations,
and under them are the slaves of these Consular Agents.”
“The following remarks are taken from a very important paper
written in Egypt, by Sir Bartle Frere, on his route to Zanzibar -—
“It can hardly escape so enlightened a ruler as His Highness that
slavery is in itself a canker which must eat into the vitals of a
country like Egypt, whose prosperity depends in so large a degree
on the industry of the agricultural class. . . . His Highness
expressed a hope that the stoppage of the supply of slaves from the
interior would ultimately tend towards a gradual diminution and
final extinction of slavery in Egypt. 1 feel that all experience is
against this capectation. Whilst the demand continues I believe it
to be practically impossible to cut off the supply. This is especially
the case where the sources of supply are so many and spread over
so large an area that ages would hardly suffice to reach them all by
separate measures of repression. But if the demand is extinguished
the object is at once effected and the trade must cease.”


INDEX.
A.
- PAGE
A coasting vessel.................. 91
Acquits me, Squire McDonald 182
Across the river by night ...... 82
“Adversity university " ...... 142
A fortnight's journey............ 83
Alarm at Lancaster, Ohio ...... 111
Alexander gave me the slip ... 177
—'s guilt discovered ........ 181
Alone in the wilderness......... 87
American department, super-
intendent of................. 137
Amos Riley and his estate...... 49
—— when I shaved 54
— gives me a pass 54
reception by ........ 62
—— an appeal to 73
falls sick..................... 74
— pitiable appeals of . 74
reaches home ............... 74
Andover, Massachusetts, visit
to ............... .............. 157
A new home for three years. ... 49
Anniversary of Sunday School
Union .......... - ... 141
A painful day ..................... 88
Appeal to the Legislature, an 106
—— success on a second ...... 106
Archbishop of Canterbury,
visit to ........................ 142
A retrospect of past life........ 13
Arguments with wife failed ... 79
Arrival in Kentucky, our ...... 49
in New Orleans, our ..... 72
—— on the Indiana shore...... 82
—— of a Maryland friend...... 98
A smart young fellow, con-
sidered ....................... 24
Attorney-General conducted
iny suit........................ 170
- - PAGE
Auction, the slave ............... 19
B.
“Bad luck happens to every-
body” ........................ 63
Bail, the names of my ......... I53
Baptist Noel, I preach for Hon. 132
Berry, Esq., my negotiator ... 154
Bill of daily fare, a slave's...... 23
Binney, I call on Rev. Thomas 132
Birthday, my 14
Black-knight, “Uncle Tom” a 25
Blacks in Canada, condition of 103
—— a convention of ............ 123
Blind, our captain becomes ... 67
Boyhood and youth 23
Bondage, escape from 78
Boy left behind, recovery of
the................-- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 119
Book, in New England with
Thy ... . . . . . ------- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 154
Bourbon county, journey to ... 109
Boston, my visit to............... 127
— contributes 1,400 dollars 128
—— custom-house officer at ... 130
— more cargoes to ............ 133
—- collected £1,000 in ...... 175
Brock, Rev. Wm., preached
for........................ 132, 146
Brother's freedom, my ... 151, 154
— eldest son, my ............ 155
Brother is now ninety-one, my 155
Brougham, I cali on Lord...... 132
Bryce Litton and my master 35
— has an accident ............
— maims me for life .. --
— — is well thrashed ............
wins a lawsuit
Buffalo captain, the --
arrival at.....................


218 INDEX.
PAGE PAGE
Burns, preached for Rev. Jabez 132 Closing up my London agency 147
Buxton, Sir T. F., and R. C. Clothing of slaves ............... 23
Bevan ........................
Buy my freedom
C.
Camden (Dawn), a sawmill
built in........................ 128
Canada and the North Star ... 78
— journey to .................. 86
— how far is it to ?...... 90
— when we landed in... 95
— how I behaved on land-
— our new home in .........
— commenced preaching in
— condition of blacks in ...
— life in ...... ...............
— my company on reaching
— travelled in..................
Canadian testimonial to my
character
Capital and labour, I lecture on 122
Captain, become a temporary. 66
my converse with the ... 91
— offers work, a ... ........... 91
201
— parting gift by the......... 94
I}. .# Second Esse
Company, I was ......... 176
Cargo, character of our ........ 65
Chaplain, of New York, Mr.
W. L. ........................ 152
Characters, Mrs. H. B. Stowe's 156
Cheated and betrayed............ 60
Chickering packs my boxes, Mr. 136
Children, preparation for carry- 80
in .............................. 55
Chivalric sentiment, Iloved the 26
Chivalrous heart of Tom, the... 25
Church, my acquaintance with
Mr. Thomas.................. 209
Cincinnati, strong temptation
at .................... ......
— preaching in 55
we reach......... 85, 110, 115
Clark, Mrs. Stowe sends for me
and Mr. G. .................. 157
Cockburn, Sir John, advice of. 106
Colchester, met Rev. Hiram
Wilson in ..................... I23
Committee of inquiry ap-
pointed, a..................... 133
Complimentary letters of intro-
duction ........................ I32
Condition of freed slaves ...... 121
Conducting slaves to Canada... 109
Confronted with a slander...... 133
Congregation disappointed, a . 101
Connecticut, travelled in ...... 156
Conscience, stopped by ......... 70
Conspiracy of Isaac and Amos
Riley......... ................. 77
Constable arrests me, a .. . 178
Convention of blacks, a 123
Conversion, my, and effects ... 32
Cool freedom and hot oppres-
Sion … …................. 191
Copyright to Mr. John Lobb,
I present my ............... 209
Cow leads us across the river, a 114
Cow will tell us some news, the 114
Cruel nature of slavery ... ..... 102
Culpepper, through............... 45
Cumberland, through............ 45
Cup for water, a strange ...... 84
Customs officer, scene with the 130
Dawn, home at '.................. 121
— I remove with my family
to ........................... 125
on the River Sydenham . 125
— selected for the settle-
ment.............. ......... 125
— settlement, extent of the 125
— trustees, meeting of 130
— a mass meeting in the
institution
Day of secret meditation, a ...
— of judgment come, the ...
Debt on the sawmill, heavy ...
Description of escape, the ......
Desire to learn to spell, my ...
Diamond cut diamond


INDEX. 219
PAGE PAGE
Difficulties in learning, my ... 101 Family, public sale of our...... 19
Dinah and Topsy described ... 161 — disposal of my brother's 154
Disappointed congregation, a . 101 || Family's reception of Amos, the 76
Dollar, the captain's last ...... 94 | Farewell to Amos, my last 81
Fate of the sawmill.............. 174
E. Father, character of my......... 15
Early aspirations checked...... I87 fate of my .................. 16
Early breakfast for six, an...... 118 Fauquier, through ... 45
Early memories .................. 13 | Ferry, Harper's .................. 45
Earthquake to breakupslavery, Fifteen hundred dollars sub-
Oilly all .................... ... 156 scribed ........................ 123
Education and property, value Fifty, I learn to read at about 102
Of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 125 | First great trial .................. 17
— my felt need of . 98 || Foot, 400 miles travelled on ... 108
— of my son Tom ............ 99 || Fording a stream, our ...... .. 90
Efforts in Boston, a sawmill Forgave my master's cruelty... 40
raised by .................. 126 || Fourteen hundred dollars from
— made in many of the Boston ........................ 28
States ... .................. 126 || Fowler, L. N., a sketch of me
by Professor.................. 205
Frank, interview with 58
Eliza, about Freedom, buy my ............... 59
— died at Oberlin in 1876 161 | – my brother's ............... 151
Eliza's husband still active ... 161 |Freight a vessel with walnut, I 129
Elliot, Samuel, Esq., a friend 128
Emancipation, proclamation of 154
End, our happy union at an ... 18
England, visit to.................. 131
Enterprise undertaken, a great 45
Erie, the lake ..................... 105
a large meeting at Fort... 107
Escape from bondage ............ 78
Escaping slaves, a scene of ... 110
a free white man ......... 117
Esculapius, Miss Patty the ... 39
Establishment of a manual la-
bour school .................. 124
Eulogium on my wife............ 150
Eva, Mr. St. Clair Young's
daughter like 162
Eventful night arrived, the ... 81
Exhibits in 1851 London Ex-
hibition ..................... 132
Exploration, a tour of ......... 104
Extent of coloured people set-
tlements ..................... 125
F.
Factotum, I was master's ...... 40
Friend, appeal to an old ...... 58
Frightened horse, the, runs ... 37
Fugitive slave act, the ......... I 30
a scene in Boston ......... 130
Fugitive slaves, Canadian pre-
judice to .................. 174
— grievances of ............... 174
— enlisting in the States ... 176
Fuller, James C., of Skenea-
teles, New York........ •
— visits England and ob-
tains help
Funds exhausted
Gallant action, account of a ... 176
George Harris, about
God, if there be a
Good Samaritans..................
“Got for striking a white
man" ........................ 15
Grey, proposition from Lord... 142
Gurney, I call on Samuel ...... 132
H.
Harper's ferry, through......... 45


220
INDEX.
PAGE
Hathaways, benevolent Quakers 153
Helm, I take my turn at the... 66
Henson and Wilson, travelling
secretaries .................. 124
Hewes, the blacksmith ......... 15
Hibbard, character of Mr....... 96.
— I offer to work for ... ..... 96
— three years' service with
Mr. ........................ 97
Hiding from the horsemen ... 118
Hiram Wilson, I co-operated
with him thirty years...... 123
Home, wife's laugh at our new 97
— safe at ........................ 110
— at Dawn ..................... 121
Hughes, great assistance from
Rev. Mr. .................. 200
— gives me a reference ...... 200
I.
Idols shattered..................... 173
Indians, a startling meeting of 89
— a chief of the ............ .. 90
— kindness from the ... 90
Industrial projects ............... 127
Insurrection, Nat Turner's 193
Interview with Frank ......... 58
Introductory letters to England 132
Impression, a providential...... 118
Improved circumstances 56,98, 102
Jolly times for the slaves, some 24
Journey, a responsible ......... 41
—— of a thousand miles ...... 44
—— to Kentucky ............... 44
—— the route of my ... 45
—— to Canada ... .............. 86
K.
Kentucky, I conduct eighteen
#3 negroes to.................. 44
—— journey to .... .... 44
— our arrival in ... 49
— back to ............... 60
second journey to ......... 111
Kentuckians, narrow escape
from
PAGE
L. -
Lad, my character when a...... 192
Lakes of Ontario, Erie, and
Huron ........................ 105
Lake St. Clair, and DetroitRiver 105
Erie ........................... 105
Lancaster, Ohio ........ . ... 111
Land in Canada, our ............ 127
Large party of slaves waiting
to escape ..................... 109
Lawrence, Amos, Esq., a friend 128
Lawrence, I call on Hon. A.... 132
Laws of slave states
Leak, our boat sprung a......... 113
Lecture on capital and labour, I 122
Legree and Bryce Litton com-
pared.................... ...... 162
Lessons from Tom, I take ... 101
Levi Coffin's reminiscences ... 159
story of Eliza ............ 159
Lewis Clark, the George Harris 158
—— residence of his family ... 15S
Liberty, value of.................. 55
Life in Canada.............. ...... 102
Lightfoot, family of left behind 107
James, about ............... 107
— Jefferson, unexpected
meeting of ............... 112
— the family of, all meet
in Canada.................. 120
Lightfoot's relations, in search of 108
—— discovery of ............... 109
— token for his family ...... 109
Lincoln's proclamation ......... 154
Litton and my master 35
— has an accident .. 36
—— is well thrashed .. ... 39
-— maims me for life ......... 37
— wins the lawsuit ......... 39
Lobb, "my acquaintance with
Mr. John .................. 209
Lodgings of slaves
London, Upper Canada, a con-
vention in................. ...
124
Lord J. Russell's estate, visit to 144


INDEX. 221
PAGE PAGE
“Lost Continent”............... 215 Mill removed to Dresden ...... 175
Louisville................. - Misplaced confidence ........ ... 166
Lumbering operations Mississippi, voyaging down the 68
Montgomery county, bound for 56
M More ways to kill a dog than
Macaulay, Dr., my thanks to... 209
Mackenzie, lawyer, quoted ... 169
Maimed for life .................. 34
Maine, travelled in............... 156
Man-of-war, my son enlists on a 177
Manual labour school, a 124
Manual labour school at Dawn 164
Manumission papers, I secured
InV . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
— when I received............ 65
Markets, Washington
Georgetown ...... ........... 41
Maryland............... ... ... 14
returning to ...... ... 56
Maryland and Virginia sixty
years ago ...................... 197
Massachusetts, travelled in ... 156
Matured plan of escape
Maysville, city of .......
— arrival at ....................
—— to Cincinnati, distance ... 112
McCormick, Mr. .................. 105
— not entitled to rent ...... 105
—— defeated by.................. 106
McKenny, John ..... ... 28
character of....... ... 29
—— hear him preach............ 29
— text by, the first I heard 31
's sermon, doctrine of...... 31
McLean, of Chatham, attorney 179
—'s testimony of me ......... 180
McPherson, Dr. J. ............... 14
character of.......... 17
—— the end of Dr.... ... 18
——'s estate, sale of ............ 18
Meditation, a day of secret ... 101
Mercy, 400 miles, a journey of 108
Methodist Episcopal Church
preacher, am a............... 51
Methodist Episcopal Conference 55
Methodist preacher's sugges-
tion of freedom ............
Miami river, the .................. 114
Mill removed by stratagent ... 175
feeding ..... .................. 186
Morley's table, when sitting at
Samuel ........................ 151
Mother, who was my ...... 14
— character of my ...... 18
Mother's family sold off... 19
Murder in my heart, a ... 69
Musings, solitary ......... ... 78
My companions, sale of ......... 51
- reflections on sale of... 51
My conversion..... ............... 28
— difficulties at Dawn ......... 165
— family, a full account of ... 199
— father and his overseer ...... 14
– marriage ........................ 41
— master comes to me for aid... 43
— name, how I got........ ...... 17
— praying mother ............... 28
My master's guard, I was ...... 34
— — — habits..................... 34
— —— quarrels and character 35
— —— marriage 41
— — ruin ....... 43
Narrow escape from Ken-
tuckians ..................... 112
National turnpike to Wheeling,
on the ........................
Nature of slavery, the cruel ... 102
Nellis the constable, William. 178
New England a market for
our lumber 127
New Hampshire, travelled in . 156
New Orleans, arrival at ......... 72
— trading voyage to ......... 66
New scenes and a new home... 96
New home in Canada, our...... 97
Newman's farm, Francis ...... 14
Night across the river, the...... 82
Nursing Amos Riley ............ 75
O.
Objects of the manual labour
school ..... .................. 124


222
Offer of a boat to Canada ......
Okafenoke swamp ...............
One hundred and eighteen
slaves rescued ...............
One of our party left to die ...
On reaching Canada, my com-
115
Panions........................
Operations, lumbering .........
Oswego, I charter a vessel to... 129
Our return to the perishing
brother........................
Papers might have been lost, my 62
Parting scene with her family,
wife's........................... 149
Pass, Mrs. Riley returns me my 58
Patty, Miss, the Esculapius ... 39
— character of Miss ......... 39
Peabody, Rev. Ephraim, a
friend ....................... 128
Pennsylvania, a speaker from... 141
Peto, Hon. Samuel, referred to 146
Plans for liberating slaves...... 106
Pool, story of Alexander ...... 183
— Martin and Basil defeated 185
Portsmouth, Ohio ............... 111
Practically I was an overseer... 26
Preacher, Tom becomes a ...... 33
Preacher, when admitted as a . 51
Preaching, requisites of ......... 50
Present condition of coloured
fugitives ......... ........... 122
President Lincoln's proclama-
tion .........….......... 154
Prison, and whipping, ordered
to .............................. 194
Promotion to be a superin-
- tendent..................... ... 26
Property inspected by Queen
Victoria, my............ ..... T39
Proposition from Lord Grey, a 142
Providence, a wonderful......... 112
Providential deliverance ...... 72
— impression, a ............... 118
Purchase, my liberty shall only
be by........................ 55
— of a decent suit and a
horse........................ 55
PAGE
Q.
Quaker, meeting a friendly ... 116
sign “thee” and “thou" 116
's family, reception by the 117
Qualifications for preaching, on 98
Quarrels, slave-masters’......... 35
Quarrel with the English agent 169
Queen Victoria visits me, 1851 138
Questions, my son Tom's ...... 99
Railroad, second - journey on
the underground............ 111
Read, my son teaches me to ... 99
Reception by Master Frank ... 58
Reception by my master Riley 56
Recovering of the boy left
behind ........................ 119
Reflections on the Rileys'
treatment.....................
Regular taverns for droves of .
negroes ... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45
Rescues his master, Tom ...... 36
Resignation to the will of God 71
Resolve to kill four com-
panions........................
Resort to a stratagem ........
Richmond, Indiana...............
Riley, Isaac, of Montgomery co.
a blacksmith
— character of...... ..........
— reception by my master
my nursing of Amos ...... 75
Riseley, took service under Mr. 103
meetings in the house
of Mr. ..................... 104
River, the night across the ... 82
Robb, I was bought by ......... 20
a tavern-keeper ............ 20
Ruined, two of my bail nearly 153
Sad visit in Wicksburg, a
Safe at home...... ............. ...
Sails hoisted for Canada.........
Sale of the flat-boat, the.. --
Sample song the slaves sing ...
Samuel Morley and G. Sturge
start a fund
204


INDEX. 223
PAGE PAGE
Sandusky, city of ............... 90 | Son Tom reads to me, my ...... 99
—— Ohio, Eliza and child to 161 two quarters' schooling
Saw-mill raised by Bosto of my........................ 99
donations .................. ... 126 — offers to teach me ......... 99
School, a site for the new ...... 124 | South, I was taken ............... 64
Scioto, arrival at.................. 87 | Southern Italy, coloured people
Scotch borderer, comparison in .....................….. 141
with a ........................ 25 | Southern slaveholders for
Search for wife and children, twenty-four hours!......... 195
Our. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93 || Spell, my first attempts to ... 188
Second journey on the under- Stars, a shower of ... ........... 1f1
ground railroad ............ 111 | Startling meeting of Indians... 89
Second wife, my .................. 197 | Starvation, near .................. 84
September 20, 1852, reached Starvation, threatened ......... 88
Canada ........................ 148 || Stealing, the law on ........... 190
Service under Riseley, a new... log
Settlers for seven years, be-
Calne ... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 106
Seventeen hundred dollars
raised........................... 135
Seven years' perplexity, after... 171
Shaving Amos Riley ........... . 54
Sherman, preached for Rev.
James ........................ 132
Shouting as we reached the
deck ........................... 93
Shower of stars .................. 111
Sickness of Amos Riley, the ... 74
Sick, wife and children all fall 97
Skeneateles, New York . ....... 123
Skin worn from my back ...... 90
Slander, triumphant reply to a 135
Slavery, cruel nature of......... 102
does not eradicate memory 152
Slave states, laws of ............ 14
— auction, the .... 19
again, a ..................... 53
condition of freed ......... 121
Slaves, lodgings of ............... 23
to Canada, conducting... 109
a scene of escaping......... 110
— rescued one hundred and
eighteen..................... 120
Smith, Mr. Peter B., referred to 132
preached for Dr. George... 132
Sold the next day, I was to be 73
Solitary musings.................. 78
Son-in-law enlisted in Detroit,
Steaming off on the Mississippi 74
Stopped by conscience ......... 70
Story of my life, when com-
pleted ........................ 147
Stowe, a sketch of Mrs. H. B. 212
— I visit Mrs. H. B. ......... 157
Stowe's characters, Mrs. H.B.156,212
— book, how and where read 157
book, the wedge that rent
slavery ..................... 158
—— “Uncle Tom's Cabin " ... 157
Stream, our fording a............ 90
Striking a white man, on ...... 15
Sufferings from Litton's bru-
tality........................... 39
Suit ended, how my ............ 172
Summary of “Uncle Tom’s”
meetings ..................... 210
“Sunday at Home” Magazine 209
T.
Table, sitting at
Morley's ......‘…. 151
Taken south, I was...............
Taylor, Frank,
owner
— becomes deranged ...... ... 120
frees the rest of the
Lightfoots.................. 120
—- misses his slaves ......... 120
Terrace was my friend, Squire 179
Third and last visit to London 204
Thoughts on the Mississippi... 68
Thousand dollars, the price of 61


DEBT slaveRY.
Abominable Custom Under the
British Flag, tw tº
The prospeetive abolition of what is
known as “debt slavery,” which still
exists in Trengganu, one of the Un-
federated Malay States under British Pro-
tection, is referred to in a Blue Book issued
; Mr. J. L. Humphreys, the
British Agent at Trengganu, in his report
states that an enactment has been passed
for the abolition of this evil custom,
“Trengganu,” he says, “is the ºnly State
under British protection in which this
abominable practice still continues. Debt
is treated as hereditary, children are
taken in pledge for parents, and no reduº-
tion is made in the debt on account of the
iahour of the debtor.” , .
What is now proposed is that all exist-
ing debts, are tº be registered within six
months, the making of any new agreement
for debt , slavery is prohibited, all
registered debts are reduced automatically
by fixed monthly reduction on account of
the debtor's labour. -
It is ealeulated that existing debts will
be wiped out within three years, and it is
stated that, any quicker process would not
educate, eithér master or debtor class
sufficiently to secure a permanent
abolition.”
English as She is Writ.
A Kaffir Boy's Notice. Af. * YO
SOUTH African correspondent sends us the followińg piquant
missive which he received from one of his Kaffir “boys.”
who desired to give notice. The “boy” in question was reputed to
be an “educated” nativeſ
DEAR SIR, I have the ammusement of Dropping you these few
espistle to let you know that I am Thanking you for being So kind
to me I am out of Working I want to Conclude working the end of
this week I am Returning back to School I am concluding with Piece
Yours Servant
Johan NES.


--------- J z I UO UUU
here the cardiff Negroes
** **
By A. E. MOYSER,
Editor of the “Marine Magazine."
Bute-street—that broad, busy highway which
leads from the town of Cardiff to the docks—is in
all probability more cosmopolitan in its charac-
ter, and in respect of its wandering deep-sea
frequenters, than any other place in this country.
On its left-hand side, going from the town, is
the tall, grimy wall bounding the docks. On the
right-hand side, where sailormen mostly parade,
are shops, practically all of which are in some
way or other devoted to supplying the wants of
the seafarer. -
Like other South Wales ports, Cardiff is essen-
tially a “tramp” port. Passenger liners do not
make frequent calls, and whoever wanders
through the dock area will find that it is the ugly
but useful steam cargo-carrier that is most in
evidence. A few “wind-jammers,” mostly
foreign-owned, are occasionally to be seen lying
at the buoys or alongside the quays.
All are there for practically one purpose, and
that is to load coal for near or distant over-sea
ports. Day by day there leaves the port a stream
of coal-laden ſpackets, And it is from the board-
ing-houses of Bute-street, or “Tiger Bay,” as the
network of mean streets running from and behind
this thoroughfare is called, that crews for these
deep-sea colliers are procured. These cargo boats
have to take what they can get in the way of a
“crowd"—and often this means a pretty fine
mixture of nationalities in the forecastle.
THE NEGRoes: “Native town.”
Negrºes and Arabs are common in this dis-
trict. The mate of a collier, when speaking to
me on this point, very aptly described the i-
tion when he said: “I have been outside the 5.
ping office looking for a crew, and I’d have
needed *... looking-glass to see a white face, and


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