to New Orleans. He was entirely unacquainted with its character; he was at-
tracted by its title, supposing it might amuse him while travelling. Through his
family it was shown to me, as something that I would probably like. I looked at
the author's name, and said, `Oh, yes; anything from that lady I will read;' other-
wise I should have disregarded a work of fiction without such a title.
“The remarks from persons present were, that it was a most amusing work, and
the scenes most admirably drawn to life. I accepted the offer of a perusal of it,
and brought it home with me. Although I have not read every sentence, I have
looked over the whole of it, and I now wish to bear my testimony to its just deli-
neation of the position that the slave occupies. Colourings in the work there are,
but no colourings of the actual and real position of the slave worse than really
exist. Whippings to death do occur; I know it to be so. Painful separations of
master and slave, under circumstances creditable to the master's feelings of
humanity, do also occur. I know that, too; many families, after having brought
up their children in entire dependence on slaves to do everything for them, and
after having been indulged in elegances and luxuries, have exhausted all their
means; and the black people only being left, whom they must sell for further sup-
port. Running away, everybody knows, is the worst crime a slave can commit, in
the eyes of his master, except it be a humane master; and from such few slaves
care to run away.
“I am a slaveholder myself. I have long been dissatisfied with the system
particularly since I have made the Bible my criterion for judging of it. I am con-
vinced, from what I read there, slavery is not in accordance with what God delights
to honour in his creatures. I am altogether opposed to the system; and I intend
always to use whatever influence I may have against it. I feel very bold in speak-
ing against it, though living in the midst of it, because I am backed by a powerful
man, that can overturn and overrule the strongest efforts that the determined
friends of slavery are now making for its continuance.
“I sincerely hope that more of Mrs. Stowes may be found, to show up the
reality of slavery. It needs master minds to show it as it is, that it may rest upon
its own merits.
“Like Mrs. Stowe, I feel that, since so many and good people, too, at the North
have quietly consented to leave the slave to his fate, by acquiescing in and
approving the late measures of government, those who do feel differently should
bestir themselves. Christian effort must do the work; and soon it would be done
if Christians would unite, not to destroy the Union States, but honestly to speak
out, and speak freely, against that they know is wrong. They are not aware what
countenance they give to slaveholders to hold on to their prey. Troubled con-
sciences can be easily quieted by the sympathies of pious people, particularly when
interest and inclination come in as aids.
“I am told there is to be a reply made to `Uncle Tom's Cabin,' entitled `Uncle
Tom's Cabin as It is.' I am glad of it. Investigation is what is wanted.
“You will wonder why this communication is made to you by an unknown.
It is simply made to encourage your heart, and strengthen your determination to
persevere, and do all you can to put the emancipation of the slave in progress.
Who I am you will never know; nor do I wish you to know, nor anyone else.
I am a
“Republican.”
The following facts make the fiction of “Uncle Tom's Cabin”
appear tame in the comparison. They are from the New York
Evangelist.
Mr. Editor,--I see in your paper that some persons deny the statements of
Mrs. Stowe. I have read her book, every word of it. I was born in East Tennes-
see, near Knoxville, and, we thought, in an enlightened part of the Union, much
favoured in our social, political, and religious privileges, &c. &c. Well, I think
about the year 1829, or, perhaps '28, a good old German Methodist owned a black
man named Robin, a Methodist preacher, and the manager of farm, distillery, &c.,
salesman and financier. This good old German Methodist had a son named
Willey, a schoolmate of mine, and, as times were, a first-rate fellow. The old
man also owned a keen, bright-eyed mulatto girl; and Willey--the naughty boy--
became enamoured of the poor girl. The result was soon discovered; and our
good German Methodist told his brother Robin to flog the girl for her wickendness.
Brother Robin said he could not and would not perform such an act of cruelty as
to flog the girl for what she could not help; and for that act of disobedience old
Robin was flogged by the good old German brother until he could not stand. He
was carried to bed; and some three weeks thereafter, when my father left the
State, he was still confined to his bed from the effects of that flogging.
Again: in the fall of 1836, I went South for my health, stopped at a
village in Mississippi, and obtained employment in the largest house in the
county, as a book-keeper, with a firm from Louisville, Kentucky. A man
residing near the village--a bachelor, thirty years of age--became embarrassed,
and executed a mortgage to my employer on a fine, likely boy, weighing about
two hundred pounds--quick-witted, active, obedient, and remarkably faithful,
trusty, and honest; so much so, that he was held up as an example. He had
a wife that he loved; his owner cast his eyes upon her, and she became his
paramour. His boy remonstrated with his master; told him that he tried
faithfully to perform his every duty, that he was a good and faithful
“nigger” to him; and it was hard, after he had toiled hard all day, and till
ten o'clock at night, for him to have his domestic relations broken up and inter-
fered with. The white man denied the charge, and the wife also denied it. One
night, about the first of September, the boy came home earlier than usual, say
about nine o'clock. It was a wet, dismal night; he made a fire in his cabin, went
to get his supper, and found ocular demonstration of the guilt of his master. He
became enraged, as I suppose any man would, seized a butcher-knife, and cut his
master's throat, stabbed his wife in twenty-seven places, came to the village, and
knocked at the office door. I told him to come in. He did so, and asked for my
employer. I called him. The boy then told him that he had killed his master
and his wife, and what for. My employer locked him up, and he, a doctor and
myself, went out to the house of the old bachelor, and found him dead, and the
boy's wife nearly so; she, however, lived. We (my employer and myself) returned
to the village, watched the boy until about sunrise, left him locked up, and went
to get our breakfasts, intending to take the boy to jail (as it was my employer'
interest, if possible, to save the boy, having one thousand dollars at stake in him)
but whilst we were eating, some persons who had heard of the murder broke
open the door, took the poor fellow, put a log-chain round his neck, and started
him for the woods at the point of the bayonet, marching by where we were eat-
ing, with a
great deal of noise. My employer hearing it, ran out, and rescued the
boy. The mob again broke in and took the boy, and marched him, as before
stated, out of town.
My employer then begged them not to disgrace their town in such a manner,
but to appoint a jury of twelve sober men to decide what should be done. And
twelve as sober men as could be found (I was not sober) said he must be hanged.
They then tied a rope round his neck, and set him on an old horse. He made a
speech to the mob, which I at the time thought, if it had come from some senator,
would have been received with rounds of applause; and, withal, he was more calm
than I am now in writing this. And after he had told all about the deed and its
causes, he then kicked the horse out from under him, and was launched into eter-
nity. My employer has often remarked that he never saw anything more noble
in his whole life than the conduct of that boy.
Now, Mr. Editor, I have given you facts, and can give you names and dates.
You can do what you think is best for the cause of humanity. I hope I have seen
the evil of my former practices, and will endeavour to reform.
Very respectfully,
James L. Hill.
Springfield, Illinois, Sept. 17th, 1852.
“The opinion of a Southerner,” given below, appeared in the
National Era, published at Washington. This is an anti-slavery
journal, but by its generous tone and eminent ability it com-
mands the respect and patronage of many readers in the slave
States:
The following communication comes inclosed in an envelope from Louisiana.--
Ed. Era.
I have just been reading, in the New York Observer of the 12th of August,
an article from the Southern Free Press, headed by an editorial one from the
Observer, that has for its caption, “Progress in the Right Quarter.”
The editor of the New York Observer says that the Southern Free Press has
been an able and earnest defender of Southern institutions, but that he now advo-
cates the passage of a law to prohibit the separation of families, and recommends
instruction to a portion of slaves that are most honest and faithful. The Observer further adds: “It was such language as this that was becoming common before
Northern fanaticism ruined the prospects of emancipation.” It is not so!
Northern fanaticism, as he calls it, has done everything that has been done for
bettering the condition of the slave. Every one who knows anything of slavery
for the last thirtv vears will recollect that about that time since, the condition of
the slave in Loaisiana--for about Louisiana only do I speak, because about
Louisiana only do I know--was as depressed and miserable as any of the accounts
of the abolitionists that ever I have seen have made it. I say abolitionists; I
mean friends and advocates of freedom in a fair and honourable way. If any
doubt my assertion, let them seek for information; let them get the black laws of
Louisiana, and read them; let them get facts from individuals of veracity, on whose
statements they would rely.
This wretched condition of slaves roused the friends of humanity, who, like men
and Christian men, came fearlessly forward and told truths, indignantly expressing
their abhorrence of their oppressors. Such measures of course brought forth
strife, which caused the cries of humanity to sound louder and louder throughout
the land. The friends of freedom gained the ascendancy in the hearts of the
people, and the slaveholders were brought to a stand. Some, through fear of con-
sequences, lessened their cruelties, while others were made to think that, perhaps,
were not unwilling to do so when it was urged upon them. Cruelties were not only
refrained from, but the slave's comforts were increased. A retrograde treatment now
was not practicable; fears of rebellion kept them to it. The slaves had found
friends, and they were watchful. It was, however, soon discovered, that too
many privileges, too much leniency, and giving knowledge, would destroy the
power to keep down the slave, and tend to weaken, if not destroy the system. Ac-
cordingly, stringent laws had to be passed, and a penalty attached to them. No one
must teach, or cause to be taught, a slave, without incurring the penalty. The
aw is now in force. These necessary laws, as they are called, are all put down
to the account of the friends of freedom; to their interference. I do suppose that
they do justly belong to their interference; for who that studies the history of
the world's transactions does not know that in all contests with power the weak,
until successful, will be dealt with more rigorously? Lose not sight, however,
their former condition. Law after law has since been passed to draw the cord
tighter around the poor slave, and all attributed to the abolitionists. Well, any-
how, progress is being made. Here comes out the Southern Press, and make
some honourable concessions. He says: “The assaults upon slavery, made for
the last twenty years by the North, have increased the evils of it. The treatment
of slaves has undoubtedly become a delicate and difficult question. The South
has a great and moral conflict to wage; and it is for her to put on the most in-
vulnerable moral panoply.” He then thinks the availability of slave property
would not be injured by passing a law to prohibit the separation of slave families;
for he says, “Although cases sometimes occur which we observe are seized by
these Northern fanatics as characteristic of the system,” &c. Nonsense! there
are no “cases sometimes” occurring; no such thing! They are every day's
occurrences, though there are families that form the exception, and many, I would
hope, that would not do it. While I am writing, I can call before me three men
that were brought here by negro traders from Virginia, each having left six or
seven children, with their wives, from whom they have never heard. One other
died here a short time since, who left the same number in Carolina, from whom
he had never heard.
I spent the summer of 1845 in Nashville. During the month of September
six hundred slaves passed through that place, in four different gangs, for New
Orleans; final destination, probably, Texas. A goodly proportion were women;
young women, of course; many mothers must have left not only their children,
but their babies. One gang only had a few children. I made some excursions to
the different watering-places around Nashville; and while at Robinson or Tyree
Springs, twenty miles from Nashville, on the borders of Kentucky and Tennessee,
my hostess said to me one day, “Yonder comes a gang of slaves chained.” I
went to the road-side, and viewed them. For the better answering my purpose of
observation, I stopped the white man in front, who was at his ease in a one-horse
waggon, and asked him if those slaves were for sale. I counted them and observed
their position. They were divided by three one-horse waggons, each containing a
man-merchant, so arranged as to command the whole gang. Some were unchained;
sixty were chained in two companies, thirty in each, the right hand of one to the
left hand of the other opposite one, making fifteen each side of a large ox-chain,
to which
every hand was fastened, and necessarily compelled to hold up--men and
women promiscuously, and about in equal proportions--all young people. No
children here, except a few in a waggon behind, which were the only children in
the four gangs. I said to a respectable mulatto woman in the house, “Is it true
that the negro traders take mothers from their babies?” “Missis, it is true;
for here, last week, such a girl (naming her), who lives about a mile off, was
taken after dinner--knew nothing of it in the morning--sold, put into the gang,
and her baby was given away to a neighbour. She was a stout young woman
and brought a good price.”
The annexation of Texas induced the spirited traffic that summer. Coming
down home in a small boat, water low, a negro trader on board had forty-five men
and women crammed into a little spot, some handcuffed. One respectable-looking
man had left a wife and seven children in Nashville. Near Memphis the boat
stopped at a plantation by previous arrangement, to take in thirty more. An
hour's delay was the stipulated time with the captain of the boat. Thirty young
men and women came down the bank of the Mississippi, looking Wretcheduess
personified, just from the field; in appearance dirty, disconsolate and oppressed
some with an old shawl under their arm; a few had blankets; some had nothing
at all--looked as though they cared for nothing. I calculated, while looking at
them coming down the bank, that I could hold in a bundle all that the whole of
them had. The short notice that was given them, when about to leave, was in
consequence of the fears entertained that they would slip one side. They all
looked distressed, leaving all that was dear to them behind, to be put under the
hammer, for the property of the highest bidder. No children here! The whole
seventy-five were crammed into a little space on the boat, men and women all
together.
I am happy to see that morality is rearing its head with advocates for slavery,
and that a “most invulnerable moral panoply” is thought to be necessary. I hope
it may not prove to be like Mr. Clay's compromises. The Southern Press says:
As, for caricatures of slavery in `Uncle Tom's Cabin' and the `White Slave,' all
founded in imaginary circumstances, &c., we consider them highly incendiary.