Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe, Original Edition | Liberty - Chapter 5

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Dream Audio Books presents Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet beecher Stowe,
chapter five, showing the feelings of living property on changing owners.
Mister and missus Shelby had retired to their apartment for
the night. He was lounging in a large easy chair
looking over some letters that had come in the afternoon mail,

(00:20):
and she was standing before her mirror, brushing out the
complicated braids and curls in which Eliza had arranged her hair.
For noticing her pale cheeks and haggard eyes, she had
excused her attendants that night and ordered her to bed.
The employment naturally enough suggested her conversation with the girl
in the morning, and turning to her husband, she said, carelessly,

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by the bye, Arthur, who was that low bred fellow
that you lugged in to our dinner table to day?
Hailey is his name, said Shelby, turning himself rather uneasily
in his chair and continuing, with his eyes fixed on
a letter. Hailey, Who is he? And what may be
his business? Here? Pray? Well, he's a man that I

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transacted some business with last time I was at Natchez,
said mister Shelby, and he presumed on it to make
himself quite at home and call and dine here. Eh,
Why I invited him? I had some accounts with him,
said Shelby. Is he a negro trader? Said Missus Shelby,
noticing a certain embarrassment in her husband's manner. Why, my dear,

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what put that into your head? Said Shelby, looking up. Nothing.
Only Eliza came in here after dinner in a great worry,
crying and taking on, and said you were talking with
the trader, and that she heard him make an offer
for her boy. The ridiculous little goose she did, eh,
said mister Shelby, returning to his paper, which he seemed

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for a few moments quite intent upon, not perceiving that
he was holding it at bottom upwards. It will have
to come out, said he mentally. As well as ever
I told Eliza, said Missus Shelby, as she continued brushing
her hair, that she was a little fool for her pains,
and that you never had anything to do with that
sort of persons. Of course, I knew you never meant

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to sell any of our people, least of all to
such a fellow. Well, Emily, said her husband. So I
have always felt and said, But the fact is that
my business lies so that I cannot get on without
I shall have to sell some of my hands to
that creature. Impossible, mister Shelby. You cannot be serious. I'm

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sorry to say that I am, said mister Shelby. I've
agreed to sell Tom. What our Tom, that good faithful creature,
been your faithful servant from it boy, Oh, mister Shelby,
And you have promised him his freedom too. You and
I have spoken to him a hundred times of it. Well,

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I can believe anything now. I can believe now that
you could sell little Harro, poor Liza's only child, said
Missus Shelby, in a tone between grief and indignation. Well,
since you must know all, it is so, I have
agreed to sell Tom and Harry both. And I don't
know why I am to be rated as if I
were a monster for doing what every one does every day.

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But why of all others choose these, said missus Shelby.
Why sell them of all on the place, if you
must sell at all, Because they will bring the highest
sum of any That's why I could choose another. If
you say so. The fellow made me a high bid
on Eliza, if that would suit you any better, said
mister Shelby. The wretch, said missus Shelby vehemently. Well, I

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didn't listen to it a moment out of regard to
your feelings, I wouldn't. So give me some credit, my dear,
said missus Shelby, recollecting herself. Forgive me, I have been hasty.
I was surprised and entirely unprepared for this. But surely
you will allow me to intercede for these poor creatures.
Tom is a noble, hearted, faithful fellow. If he is black.

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I do believe, mister Shelby, that if he were put
to it, he would lay down his life for you.
I know it, I dare say, But what's the use
of all this? I can't help myself. Why not make
a pecuniary sacrifice. I am willing to bear my part
of the inconvenience, Oh, mister Shelby. I have tried, tried
most faithfully as a Christian woman should, to do my

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duty to these poor, simple, dependent creatures. I have cared
for them, instructed them, watched over them, and know all
their little cares and joys for years. And how can
I ever hold up my head again among them, if
for the sake of a little paltry gain we sell
such a faithful, excellent, confiding creature as poor Tom and

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tear from him in a moment. All we have taught
him to love and value. I have taught them the
duties of the family of parent and child, and husband
and wife. And how can I bear to have this
open acknowledgment that we care for no tie, no duty,
no relation, however sacred compared with money. I have talked

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with Eliza about her boy, her duty to him as
a Christian mother, to watch over him, pray for him,
and bring him up in a Christian way. And now
what can I say if you tear him away and
sell him soul and body to a profane, unprincipled man,
just to save a little money. I have told her
that one soul is worth more than all the money

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in the world. And how will she believe me when
she sees us turn round and sell her child, sell him,
perhaps to certain ruin of body and soul. I'm sorry
you feel so about it, indeed, I am, said mister Shelby,
and I respect your feelings too, though I don't pretend
to share them to their full extent. But I tell

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you now solemnly it's of no use. I can't help myself.
I didn't mean to tell you this, Emily, but in
plain words, there is no choice between selling these too
and selling everything. Either they must go or all must.
Hailey has come into possession of a mortgage, which, if

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I don't clear off with him directly, will take everything
before it. I've raked and scraped and borrowed and all
but begged, and the price of these two was needed
to make up the balance, and I had to give
them up. Haley fancied the child. He agreed to settle
the matter that way and no other. I was in
his power and had to do it. If you feel

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so to have them sold, would it be any better
to have all sold? Missus Shelby stood like one stricken.
Finally turning to her toilette, she rested her face in
her hands and gave a sort of groan. This is
God's curse on slavery, A bitter, bitter, most a cursed thing,

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a curse to the Master, and a curse to the sleigh.
I've I was a fool to think I could make
anything good out of such a deadly evil it is
a sin to hold a slave under laws like ours.
I always felt it was. I always thought so when
I was a girl. I thought so still more after
I joined the church. But I thought I could gild

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it over. I thought, by kindness and care and instruction,
I could make the condition of mine better than freedom.
Fool that I was. Why, wife, you are getting to
be an abolitionist, quite abolitionist. If they knew all I
know about slavery, they might talk. We don't need them
to tell us. You know, I never thought that slavery

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was right, never felt willing to own slaves. Well, therein
you differ from many wise and pious men, said mister Shelby.
You remember mister B's sermon the other Sunday. I don't
want to hear such sermons. I never wished to hear
mister B in our church. Again, Ministers can't help the evil,
perhaps can't curate any more than we can, but defend it.

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It always went against my common sense. And I think
you didn't think much of that sermon either, well, said Shelby.
I must say, these ministers sometimes carry matters further than
we poor sinners would exactly dare to do. We men
of the world must wink pretty hard at various things
and get used to a deal that isn't the exact thing.
But we don't quite fancy when women and ministers come

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out broad and square and go beyond us in matters
of either modesty or morals. That's a fact. But now,
my dear, I trust you see the necessity of the thing,
and you see that I have done the very best
that circumstances would allow. Oh yes, yes, said missus Shelby,
hurriedly and abstractedly, fingering her gold watch. I haven't any

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jewelry of any amount, she added thoughtfully, But would not
this watch do something? It was an expensive one when
it was bought. If I could only at least save
Eliza's child, I would sacrifice anything I have. I'm sorry,
very sorry, Emily, said mister Shelby. I'm sorry this takes
hold of you so but it will do no good.

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The fact is, Emily, the thing's done. The bills of
sale are already signed and in Haley's hands, and you
must be thankful. It is no worse that man has
had it in his power to ruin us all, and
now he is fairly off. If you knew the man
as I do, you'd think that we had had a
narrow escape. Is he so hard then? Why not? A

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cruel man exactly, but a man of leather, a man
alive to nothing, betrayed and profit, cool and unhesitating and
unrelenting as death and the grave. He'd sell his own
mother at a good percentage, not wishing the old woman
any harm either. And this wretch owns that good faithful
Tom and Eliza's child. Well, my dear, the fact is

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that this goes rather hard with me. It's a thing
I hate to say, think of Hailey wants to drive
matters and take possession tomorrow. I'm going to get out
my horse bright and early and be off. I can't
see Tom. That's a fact. And you had better arrange
a drive somewhere and carry Eliza off. Let the thing
be done when she is out of sight. No, no,

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said missus Shelby. I'll be in no sense accomplice or
help in this cruel business. I'll go and see poor
old Tom. God help him in his distress. They shall
see at any rate that their mistress can feel for
and with them. As to Eliza, I dare not think
about it. The Lord forgive us. What have we done
that this cruel necessity should come on us? There was

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one listener to this conversation, whom mister and Missus Shelby
little suspected communicating with. Their apartment was a large closet
opening by a door into an outer passage. When Missus
Shelby had dismissed Eliza for the night, her feverish and
excited mind had suggested the idea of his closet, and
she had hidden herself there, and, with her ear pressed

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close against the crack of the door, had lost not
a word of the conversation. When the voices died into silence,
she rose and crept stealthily away. Pale, shivering, with rigid
features and compressed lips. She looked an entirely altered being
from the soft and timid creature she had been hitherto.

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She moved cautiously along the entry, paused one moment at
her mistress's door, and raised her hands in mute appeal
to Heaven, and then turned and glided into her own room.
It was a quiet, neat apartment, on the same floor
with her mistress. There was a pleasant sunny window where
she had often sat singing at her sewing. There a
little case of books, and various little fancy articles ranged

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by them, the gifts of Christmas holidays. There was her
simple wardrobe in the closet, and in the drawers. Here was,
in short, her home, and on the whole a happy
one it had been to her. But there on the
bed lay her slumbering boy, his long curls falling negligently
around his unconscious face, his rosy mouth half open, his

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little fat hands thrown out over the bedclothes, and a
smile spread like a sunbeam over his whole face. Poor boy,
poor fellow, said Eliza. They have sold you, but your
mother will save you. Yet no tear dropped over that pillow.
In such straits as these, the heart has no tears
to give. It drops only blood, bleating itself away. In silence,

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she took a piece of paper and a pencil and wrote, hastily,
Oh missus, dear missus, don't think me ungrateful, don't think
hard of me anyway. I heard all you, and Master
said to night, I am going to try to save
my boy. You will not blame me. God bless and
reward you for all your kindness. Hastily, folding and directing this,

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she went to a drawer and made up a little
package of clothing for her boy, which she tied with
handkerchief firmly around her waist. And so fond is a
mother's remembrance that even in the terrors of that hour,
she did not forget to put in the little package
one or two of his favorite toys, reserving a gaily
painted parrot to amuse him. When she should be called

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on to awaken him. It was some trouble to arouse
the little sleeper, but after some effort, he sat up
and was playing with his bird, while his mother was
putting on her bonnet and shawl. Where are you going, mother,
said he, as she drew near the bed with his
little coat and cap. His mother drew near and looked
so earnestly into his eyes that he at once divined

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that something unusual was the matter. Hush, Harry, she said,
must speak loud, or they will hear us. A wicked
man was coming to take little Harry away from his
mother and carry him way off in the dark. But
mother won't let him. She's going to put on her
little boy's cap and coat and run off with him.
So the ugly man can't catch him saying these words,

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she had tied and buttoned on the child's simple outfit,
and taking him in her arms, she whispered to him
to be very still, and opening a door in her
room which led into the outer veranda, she glided noiselessly out.
It was a sparkling, frosty, starlight night, and the mother
wrapped the shawl close around her child. As perfectly quiet

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with vague terror, he clung round her neck. Old Bruno,
a great Newfoundland who slept at the end of the porch,
rose with a low growl as she came near. She
gently spoke his name, and the animal, an old pat
and playmate of hers, instantly wagging his tail, prepared to
follow her. Though apparently revolving much in this simple dog's head,

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what such an indiscreet midnight promenade might mean some dim
ideas of imprudence or impropriety in the measure seemed to
embarrass him considerably, for he often stopped as Eliza glided forward,
and looked wistfully, first at her and then at the house,
and then, as if reassured by reflection, he pattered along
after her again. A few minutes brought them to the

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window of Uncle Tom's cottage, and Eliza, stopping, tapped lightly
on the windowpane. The prayer meeting at Uncle Tom's had,
in the order of hymn singing, been protracted to a
very late hour, and as Uncle Tom had indulged himself
in a few lengthy solos afterwards, the consequence was that,
although it was now between twelve and one o'clock, he

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and his worthy helpmeet were not yet asleep. Good lord,
what's that, said Aunt Chloe, starting up and hastily drawing
the curtain. My sake's alive. If it ain't, Lizzie, get
on your clothes, old man quick, there's old Bruno too,
a pawin around? What on earth? I'm going to open
the door, And, suiting the action to the word, the
door flew open. The lightly tallow candle, which Tom had

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hastily lighted, fell on the haggard face and dark wild
eyes of the fugitive Lord, bless you. I'm scared to
look at you, Lissie. Are ye tuxic? Or what's come
over you? I'm running away Uncle Tom and Aunt Chloe
carrying off my child, Master sold him, sold him, echoed,
both lifting up their hands in dismay. Yes, sold him,

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said Eliza firmly. I crept into the closet by mistress's
door to night, and I heard Master tell missus that
he had sold my Harry and you Uncle Tom both
to a trader, and that he was going off this
morning on his horse, and that the man was to
take possession to day. Tom had stood during this speech
with his hands raised and his eyes dilated, like a

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man in a dream. Slowly and gradually, as its meaning
came over him, he collapsed rather than seated himself on
his old chair and sunk his head down upon his knees.
The good Lord haven't pity on us, said Aunt Chloe. Oh,
it don't seem as if it was true. But what
has he done that Master should sell him? He hasn't
done anything. It isn't for that. Master don't want to

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sell an missus, she's always good. I heard her plead
and beg for us, But he told her twas no use,
that he was in this man's debt, and that this
man had got the power over him, and that if
he didn't pay him off clear, it would end in
his having to sell the place and all the people
and move off. Yes, I heard him say there was

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no choice between selling these two and selling all. The
man was driving him so hard. Master said he was sorry,
But oh, missus, you ought to have heard her talk.
If she ain't a Christian and an angel, there never
was one. I'm a wicked girl to leave her so.
But then I can't help it, she said herself. One

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soul was worth more than the world, and this boy
has a soul, and if I'd let him be carried off,
who knows what'll become of it? It must be right.
But if it ain't right, the Lord forgive before I
can't help doing it. Well, old man said, unc, Chloe,
why don't you go too? Will you wait to be
toted down river where they kill niggers with hard work

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and starving. I'd heap rather die than go there. Any
day there's time for you be off with Lizzie. You've
got a pass to come and go any time. Come
bustle up, an and I'll get your things to other.
Tom slowly raised his head and looked sorrowfully but quietly
around and said, no, No, I ain't going. Let Eliza go.
It's her right. I wouldn't be the one to say no,

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tain't in natter for her to stay. But you heard
what she said. If I must be sold o'er all
the people in the place and everything go to wreck,
why let me be sold. I s'pose I can buy
it as well as any of em, he added, while
something like a sob and a sigh shook his broad,
rough chest convulsively. Masser always found me on the spot,
he always will. I never have broke trust nor used

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my pass. No way's contrary to my word, and I
never will. It's better for me alone to go than
to break up the place and sell all. Massa ain't
to blame Chloe, and he'll take care of you and
the poor here. He turned to the rough trundle bed
full of little wooly heads and broke fairly down. He
leaned over the back of the chair and covered his
face with his large hands. Sobs, heavy, hoarse and loud,

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shook the chair, and great tears fell through his fingers
on the floor. Just such tears, sir, as you dropped
into the coffin where lay your first born son. Such
tears woman as you shed when you heard the cries
of your dying babe. For sir, he was a man,
and you are but another man and woman. Though dressed

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in silken jewels, you are but a woman, And in
life's great straits and mighty griefs, you feel but one sorrow.
And now, said Eliza, as she stood in the door,
I saw my husband only this afternoon, and I little
knew then what was to come. They have pushed him
to the very last standing place, and he told me
to day that he was going to run away. Do try,

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if you can, to get word to him. Tell him
how I went and why I went, and tell him
I'm going to try and find Canada. You must give
my love to him, and tell him if I never
see him again. She turned away and stood with her
back to them for a moment, and then added, in
a husky voice, tell him to be as good as
he can, and try and meet me in the kingdom

(20:05):
of heaven. Call Bruno in there, she added, shut the
door on him, poor beast, he mustn't go with me.
A few last words and tears, a few simple adieus
and blessings, And clasping her wondering and affrighted child in
her arms, she glided noiselessly away. End of Chapter five.
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