The Key to Uncle Tom's Cabin Read online

  kindly welcomed and entertained, during a part of two days, as sumptuously as

  though the owner had been present. We understood that it was no uncommon

  thing in South Carolina for travellers to be thus entertained by the servants in

  the absence of the owners, on receiving letters from the same.

  Instances of confidential and affectionate relationship between servants and

  their masters and mistresses, such as are set forth in the following sketches, are

  still to be found in all the slave-holding States. I mention one, which has come

  under my own observation. The late Judge Upshur, of Virginia, had a faithful

  house-servant (by his will now set free), with whom he used to correspond on

  matters of business when he was absent on his circuit. I was dining at his

  house, some years since, with a number of persons, himself being absent, when

  the conversation turned on the the subject of the presidential election, then going

  on through the United States, and about which there was an intense interest;

  when his servant informed us that he had that day received a letter from his

  master, then on the western shore, in which he stated that the friends of General

  Harrison might be relieved from all uneasiness, as the returns already received

  made his election quite certain.

  Of course it is not to be supposed that we design to convey the impression

  that such instances are numerous, the nature of the relationship forbidding it;

  but we do mean emphatically to affirm that there is far more of kindly and

  Christian intercourse than many at a distance are apt to believe. That there is

  a great and sad want of Christian instruction, notwithstanding the more recent

  efforts put forth to impart it, we most sorrowfully acknowledge.

  Bishop Meade adds that these sketches are published with the

  hope that they might have the effect of turning the attention of

  ministers and heads of families more seriously to the duty of

  caring for the souls of their servants.

  With regard to the servant of Judge Upshur, spoken of in this

  communication of Bishop Meade, his master has left, in his last

  will, the following remarkable tribute to his worth and excellence

  of character:--

  I emancipate and set free my servant, David Rice, and direct my executors

  to give him one hundred dollars. I recommend him in the strongest manner to

  the respect, esteem, and confidence of any community in which he may happen

  to live. He has been my slave for twenty-four years, during all which time

  he has been trusted to every extent, and in every respect; my confidence in

  him has been unbounded; his relation to myself and family has always been

  such as to afford him daily opportunities to deceive and injure us; yet he has

  never been detected in any serious fault, nor even in an unintentional breach of

  decorum of his station. His intelligence is of a high order, his integrity

  above all suspicion, and his sense of right and propriety correct, and even

  refined. I feel that he is justly entitled to carry this certificate from me in

  the new relations which he must now form; it is due to his long and most

  faithful services, and to the sincere and steady friendship which I bear to him.

  In the uninterrupted confidential intercourse of twenty-four years, I have never

  given him, nor had occasion to give him, one unpleasant word. I know no

  man who has fewer faults or more excellences than he.

  In the free States there have been a few instances of such

  extraordinary piety among negroes, that their biography and say-

  ings have been collected in religious tracts, and published for

  the instruction of the community.

  One of these was, before his conversion, a convict in a State-

  prison in New York, and there received what was, perhaps, the

  first religious instruction that had ever been imparted to him.

  He became so eminent an example of humility, faith, and, above

  all, fervent love, that his presence in the neighbourhood was

  esteemed a blessing to the church. A lady has described to the

  writer the manner in which he would stand up and exhort in the

  church-meetings for prayer, when, with streaming eyes and the

  deepest abasement, humbly addressing them as his masters and

  misses, he would nevertheless pour forth religious exhortations

  which were edifying to the most cultivated and refined.

  In the town of Brunswick, Maine, where the writer lived when

  writing “Uncle Tom's Cabin,” may now be seen the grave of an

  aged coloured woman, named Phebe, who was so eminent for her

  piety and loveliness of character, that the writer has never heard

  her name mentioned except with that degree of awe and respect

  which one would imagine due to a saint. The small cottage

  where she resided is still visited and looked upon as a sort of

  shrine, as the spot where old Phebe lived and prayed. Her

  prayers and pious exhortations were supposed to have been the

  cause of the conversion of many young people in the place.

  Notwithstanding that the unchristian feeling of caste prevails as

  strongly in Maine as anywhere else in New England, and the

  negro, commonly speaking, is an object of aversion and contempt,

  yet, so great was the influence of her piety and loveliness of cha-

  racter, that she was uniformly treated with the utmost respect

  and attention by all classes of people. The most cultivated and

  intelligent ladies of the place esteemed it a privilege to visit her

  cottage; and when she was old and helpless, her wants were

  most tenderly provided for. When the news of her death was

  spread abroad in the place, it excited a general and very tender

  sensation of regret. “We have lost Phebe's prayers,” was the

  remark frequently made afterwards by members of the church,

  as they met one another. At her funeral, the ex-governor of the

  State and the professors of the college officiated as pall-bearers,

  and a sermon was preached, in which the many excellences of

  her Christian character were held up as an example to the com-

  munity. A small religious tract, containing an account of her

  life, was published by the American Tract Society, prepared by

  a lady of Brunswick. The writer recollects that on reading the

  tract, when she first went to Brunswick, a doubt arose in her

  mind whether it was not somewhat exaggerated. Some time

  afterwards she overheard some young persons conversing to-

  gether about the tract, and saying that they did not think it

  gave exactly the right idea of Phebe. “Why, is it too highly

  coloured?” was the inquiry of the author. “Oh, no, no,

  indeed!” was the earnest response; “it doesn't begin to give

  an idea of how good she was.”

  Such instances as these serve to illustrate the words of the

  Apostle, “God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to

  confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of

  the world to confound the things which are mighty.”

  John Bunyan says, that although the valley of humiliation be

  unattractive in the eyes of the men of this world, yet the very

  sweetest flowers grow there. So it is with the condition of the


  lowly and poor in this world. God has often, indeed always,

  shown a particular regard for it, in selecting from that class the

  recipients of his grace. It is to be remembered that Jesus

  Christ, when he came to found the Christian dispensation, did

  not choose his apostles from the chief priests and the scribes,

  learned in the law and high in the church; nor did he choose them

  from philosophers and poets, whose educated and comprehensive

  minds might be supposed best able to appreciate his great

  designs; but he chose twelve plain, poor fishermen, who were

  ignorant, and felt that they were ignorant, and who, therefore,

  were willing to give themselves up with all simplicity to his

  guidance. What God asks of the soul more than anything else

  is faith and simplicity, the affection and reliance of the little

  child. Even these twelve fancied too much that they were wise,

  and Jesus was obliged to set a little child in the midst of them,

  as a more perfect teacher.

  The negro race is confessedly more simple, docile, childlike,

  and affectionate, than other races; and hence the divine graces of

  love and faith, when in-breathed by the Holy Spirit, find in their

  natural temperament a more congenial atmosphere.

  A last instance parallel with that of Uncle Tom is to be found

  in the published memoirs of the venerable Josiah Henson, now,

  as we have said, a clergyman in Canada. He was “raised” in

  the State of Maryland. His first recollections were of seeing

  his father mutilated and covered with blood, suffering the penalty

  of the law for the crime of raising his hand against a white man

  --that white man being the overseer, who had attempted a bru-

  tal assault upon his mother. This punishment made his father

  surly and dangerous, and he was subsequently sold South, and

  thus parted for ever from his wife and children. Henson grew

  up in a state of heathenism, without any religious instruction,

  till, in a camp-meeting, he first heard of Jesus Christ, and was

  electrified by the great and thrilling news that He had tasted

  death for every man, the bond as well as the free. This story

  produced an immediate conversion, such as we read of in the

  Acts of the Apostles, where the Ethiopian eunuch, from one

  interview, hearing the story of the cross, at once believes and is

  baptized. Henson forthwith not only became a Christian, but

  began to declare the news to those about him; and, being a man

  of great natural force of mind and strength of character, his

  earnest endeavours to enlighten his fellow-heathen were so suc-

  cessful, that he was gradually led to assume the station of a

  negro preacher; and though he could not read a word of the

  Bible or hymn-book, his labours in this line were much pros-

  pered. He became immediately a very valuable slave to

  his master, and was intrusted by the latter with the over-

  sight of his whole estate, which he managed with great

  judgment and prudence. His master appears to have been a

  very ordinary man in every respect,--to have been entirely in-

  capable of estimating him in any other light than as exceedingly

  valuable property, and to have had no other feeling excited by

  his extraordinary faithfulness than the desire to make the most

  of him. When his affairs became embarrassed, he formed the

  design of removing all his negroes into Kentucky, and intrusted

  the operation entirely to his overseer. Henson was to take them

  alone, without any other attendant, from Maryland to Kentucky,

  a distance of some thousands of miles, giving only his promise

  as a Christian that he would faithfully perform this undertaking.

  On the way thither they passed through a portion of Ohio, and

  there Henson was informed that he could now secure his own

  freedom and that of all his fellows, and he was strongly urged to

  do it. He was exceedingly tempted and tried, but his Christian

  principle was invulnerable. No inducements could lead him to

  feel that it was right for a Christian to violate a pledge solemnly

  given, and his influence over the whole band was so great that

  he took them all with him into Kentucky. Those causists among

  us who lately seem to think and teach that it is right for us to

  violate the plain commands of God, whenever some great national

  good can be secured by it, would do well to contemplate the in-

  flexible principle of this poor slave, who, without being able to

  read a letter of the Bible, was yet enabled to perform this most

  sublime act of self-renunciation in obedience to its commands.

  Subsequently to this, his master, in a relenting moment, was

  induced by a friend to sell him his freedom for four hundred

  dollars; but, when the excitement of the importunity had passed

  off, he regretted that he had suffered so valuable a piece of

  property to leave his hands for so slight a remuneration. By

  an unworthy artifice, therefore, he got possession of his servant's

  free papers, and condemned him still to hopeless slavery. Subse-

  quently, his affairs becoming still more involved, he sent his son

  down the river with a flat boat loaded with cattle and produce

  for the New Orleans market, directing him to take Henson along,

  and sell him after they had sold the cattle and the boat. All

  the depths of the negro's soul were torn up and thrown into

  convulsion by this horrible piece of ingratitude, cruelty and in-

  justice; and, while outwardly calm, he was struggling with most

  bitter temptations from within, which, as he could not read the

  Bible, he could repel only by a recollection of its sacred truths,

  and by earnest prayer. As he neared the New Orleans market,

  he says that these convulsions of soul increased, especially when

  he met some of his old companions from Kentucky, whose des-

  pairing countenances and emaciated forms told of hard work and

  insufficient food, and confirmed all his worst fears of the lower

  country. In the transports of his despair, the temptation was

  more urgently presented to him to murder his young master and

  the other hand on the flat boat in their sleep, to seize upon the

  boat, and make his escape. He thus relates the scene where he

  was almost brought to the perpetration of this deed:--

  One dark, rainy night, within a few days of New Orleans, my hour seemed to

  have come. I was alone on the deck; Mr. Amos and the hands were all asleep

  below, and I crept down noiselessly, got hold of an axe, entered the cabin, and

  looking by the aid of the dim light there for my victims, my eye 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! commit

  murder! and you a Christian?” I had not called it murder before. It was

  self-defence--it was preventing others from murdering me--it was jus-

  tifiable, it was even praiseworthy. But now, 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 obey commands which he could not resist; I was
about

  to lose the fruit of all my efforts at self-improvement, the character I had acquired,

  and the peace of mind which had never deserted me. All this came upon me

  instantly, and with a distinctness which made me almost 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, crept up on deck again, and thanked God, as I have done every day

  since, that I had not committed murder.

  My feelings were still agitated, but they were changed. I was filled with shame

  and remorse for the design I had entertained, and with the fear that my com-

  panions 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 me; and nothing brought composure to my mind, but the solemn reso-

  lution I then made to resign myself to the will of God, and take with thankful-

  ness, if I could, but with submission, 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, and 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.

  Subsequently to this, his young master was taken violently

  down with the river fever, and became as helpless as a child.

  He passionately entreated Henson not to desert him, but to

  attend to the selling of the boat and produce, and put him on

  board the steamboat, and not to leave him, dead or alive, till he

  had carried him back to his father.

  The young master was borne in the arms of his faithful ser-

  vant to the steamboat, and there nursed by him with unremit-

  ting attention during the journey up the river; nor did he leave

  him till he had placed him in his father's arms.

  Our love for human nature would lead us to add, with sorrow,

  that all this disinterestedness and kindness was rewarded only

  by empty praises, such as would be bestowed upon a very fine

  dog; and Henson indignantly resolved no longer to submit to

  the injustice. With a degree of prudence, courage, and address,