Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe, Original Edition | Liberty - Chapter 10

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Dream Audio Books presents Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet beecher Stowe,
Chapter ten, The property is carried off. The February morning
looked gray and drizzling through the window of Uncle Tom's cabin.
It looked on downcast faces, the images of mournful hearts.
The little table stood out before the fire, covered with

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an ironing cloth. A coarse but clean shirt or too
fresh from the iron, hung on the back of a
chair by the fire, and Aunt Chloe had another spread
out before her on the table. Carefully, she rubbed and
ironed every fold and every hem with the most scrupulous exactness,
every now and then raising her hand to her face

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to wipe off the tears that were coursing down her cheeks.
Tom sat by with his testament open on his knee
and his head leaning upon his hand, but neither spoke.
It was yet early, and the children lay all asleep
together in their little rude trundle. Bed Tom, who had
to the full the gentle domestic heart which woe for

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them has been a peculiar characteristic of his unhappy race,
got up and walked silently to look at his children.
It's the last time, he said, Aunt Chloe did not answer,
only rubbed away over and over on the coarse shirt,
already as smooth as hands could make it, and finally
setting her iron suddenly down with a despairing plunge. She

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sat down to the table and lifted up her voice
and wept. Suppose we must be resigned. Oh but lo, Lord,
how can I if I'd known anything whar you're goin,
or or how they'd serve you. Missus says She'll try
and deem ye in a year or two. But Lord,
nobody never comes up that goes down. Thar they kills em.

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I've hearn em. Tell how they works em up on
them our plantations, they'll be the same. God there, Cleo,
that there is here, well, said Aunt Cleo spoke, there will.
But Lord lets dreadful things happen. Sometimes I don't seem
to get no comfort that way. I'm in the Lord's hands,
said Tom. Nothin can go no further than he lets it.

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And there's one thing I can thank him for. It's
me that's sold and going down, and not you nour
children here. You're safe. What comes will come only on me.
And Lord he'll help me. I know he will. Ah brave,
manly heart, smothering thine own sorrow to comfort thy beloved ones.
Tom spoke with a thick utterance, and with a bitter

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choking in his throat, that he spoke brave and strong.
Let's sir, think on our marcies, he said, tremulously, as
if he was quite sure he needed to think on
them very hard. Indeed, marcies, said Aunt, Chloe, don't see
no marcant tain't right, tain't right. It should be so.

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Messer never ought to left it so that he could
be took for his debts. Vearn tim all he gets
for you twice over. He owed you your freedom and
ought to get to your years ago. Maybe he can't
help himself now, but I feel it's wrong. Nothing can't
beat that eye out of me. Such a faithful critter
as you've been, and allers sought his business for your

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own every way, and reckoned on him more than your
own wife, And chillin' the mus sells heart's love and
heart's blood to get out our scrapes. The Lord be
up to him, Chloe. Now, if you love me, you
won't talk. So when perhaps just the last time we'll
ever have together, And I'll tell you Chloe. It goes

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again me to hear one word again, MASSA want he
put in my arms a baby. It's nature. I should
think a heap of him. And he couldn't be spected
to think so much of poor Tom. Masses used to
havin all days year things done for him, and natally
they don't think so much, Aunt, They can't be spected
to no way set up alongside of other masses who's

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had the treatment and livin I've had. And he never
would let this year come on me. If he could
have seated aforehand, I know he wouldn't. Well anyway, there's
wrong about somewhere, said Chloe, in whom a stubborn sense
of justice was a predominant trait. I can't just make
out why tis, but there's wrong, Summer. I'm clear on

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that you ought to look up to the Lord above.
He's above all. There don't a sparrow fall without him.
Don't seem to comfort me, But I spected, order, said
Aunt Chloe. But there's no use talk. And I'll just
wet up the corn cake and get you one good breakfast,
cause nobody knows when you'll get another. In order to

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appreciate the sufferings of the negroes sold south. It must
be remembered that all the instinctive affections of that race
are peculiarly strong. Their local attachments are very abiding. They
are not naturally daring and enterprising, but home loving and affection.
Add to this all the terrors with which ignorance invests

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the unknown. And add to this again that selling to
the South is set before the negro from childhood as
the last severity of punishment. The threat that terrifies more
than whipping or torture of any kind is the threat
of being sent down river. We have ourselves heard this
feeling expressed by them, and seen the unaffected horror with

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which they will sit in their gossiping hours and tell
frightful stories of that down river, which to them is
that undiscovered country from whose born no traveler returns. Note
a slightly inaccurate quotation from Hamlet, Act three, seen one,
lines three sixty nine to three seventy. A missionary figure

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among the fugitives in Canada told us that many of
the fugitives confess themselves to have escaped from comparatively kind masters,
and that they were induced to brave the perils of escape,
in almost every case by the desperate horror with which
they regarded being sold south, a doom which was hanging
either over themselves or their husbands, their wives, or children.

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This nerves the African, naturally patient, timid, and unenterprising, with
heroic courage, and leads him to suffer hunger, cold pain,
the perils of the wilderness, and the more dread penalties
of recapture. The simple morning meal, now smoked on the
table for Missus Shelby, had excused Aunt Chloe's attendants at

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the great House that morning. The poor soul had expended
all her little energies on this farewell feast, had killed
and dressed her choicest chicken, and prepared her corn cake
with scrupulous exactness, just to her husband's taste, and brought
out certain mysterious jars on the mantelpiece, some preserves that
were never produced except on extreme occasions. Law Pete said

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Mose triumphantly. Had we got a buster of a breakfast
at the same time, catching at a fragment of the chicken,
and Chloe gave him a sudden box on the ear by,
now crowing over the lasts breakfast, Your poor daddy's goin
to have to home, Oh, Chloe, said Tom gently. Well
I can't help it, said Aunt Chloe, hiding her face

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in her apron. I'm so tossed about it. It makes
me gat ugly. The boys stood quite still, looking first
at their father and then at their mother, while the baby,
climbing up her clothes, began an imperious commanding cry. Thar,
said Aunt Chloe, wiping her eyes and taking up the baby.
Now I's done, I hope. Now do eat somethin. This

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here is my nicest chicken. Thar, boys, you shall have
some poor critters. Your mammy's been cross to you. The
boys needed no second invitation and went in with great
zeal for the eatables. And it was well they did so,
as otherwise there would have been very little performed to
any purpose by the party. Now, said Aunt Chloe, bustling

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about after breakfast, I must put up your clothes just
like as not. He'll take 'em all. I know their
ways means dirt they is well. Now your flannels for
rheumatis is in this corner, so be careful, cause there
won't nobody make you no more. Then here's your old
shirts and these eyes new ones. I towed off these

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your stockings last night and put the ball in em
to mend with. But lor, who'll ever meant for you?
And Aunt Chloe again overcome, laid her head on the
box side and sobbed to think on it, No critter
to do for you, sick or well. I don't rarely
think I ought to be good. Now. The boys, having
eaten everything there was on the breakfast table, began now

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to take some thought of the case, and seeing their
mother crying and their father looking very sad, began to
whimper and put their hand to their eyes. Uncle Tom
had the baby on his knee and was letting her
enjoy herself to the utmost extent, scratching his face and
pulling his hair, and occasionally breaking out into clamorous explosions
of delight, evidently arising out of her own internal reflections.

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A craw away, poor critter, said, Aunt Chloe, you'll have
to come to it too. You'll live to see your
husband sold, or maybe be sold yourself an these yere boys,
they's to be sold. I s'pose too, j just like
as not. When day gets good for somethin, ain't no
use in niggers havin nothin here. One of the boys
called out, that's missus a comin' in. She can't do

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no good. What's she comin for, said Aunt Chloe. Missus
Shelby entered. Aunt Chloe set a chair for her, in
a manner decidedly gruff and crusty. She did not seem
to notice either the action or the manner. She looked
pale and anxious. Tom she said, I come to, and,
stopping suddenly, and regarding the silent group, she sat down

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in the chair, and, covering her face with her handkerchief,
began to sob. Lord Now, missus, don't, don't, said Aunt Chloe,
bursting out in her turn. And for a few moments
they all wept in company. And in those tears they
all shed together, the high and the lowly, melted away
all the heart burnings and anger of the oppressed. Oh

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ye who visit the distressed? Do ye know that everything
your money can buy, given with a cold, averted face,
is not worth one honest tear shed in real sympathy,
My good fellow, said Missus Shelby. I can't give you
anything to do you any good. If I give you money,

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it will only be taken from you. But I tell
you solemnly and before God, that I will keep trace
of you and bring you back as soon as I
can command the money. Until then, trust in God. Here
the boys called out that Massa Haley was coming, and
then an unceremonious kick pushed open the door. Haley stood

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there in very ill humor, having ridden hard the night before,
and being not at all pacified by his ill success
in recapturing his prey. Come, said he ye near, Ye're ready, servant, ma'am,
said he, taking off his hat as he saw Missus
Shah aunt. Chloe shut and corded the box, and getting up,
looked gruffly on the trader. Her tears seeming suddenly turned

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to sparks of fire. Tom rose up meekly to follow
his new master, and raised up his heavy box on
his shoulder. His wife took the baby in her arms
to go with him to the wagon, and the children,
still crying, trailed on behind. Missus Shelby, walking up to
the trader, detained him for a few moments, talking with

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him in an earnest manner, and while she was thus talking,
the whole family party proceeded to a wagon that stood
ready harnessed at the door. A crowd of all the
old and young hands on the place stood gathered around
it to bid farewell to their old associate. Tom had
been looked up to both as a head servant and
a Christian teacher by all the place, and there was

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much honest sympathy and grief about him, particularly among the women.
Why Chloe, you buy it better'n we do, said one
of the women, who had been weeping freely, noticing the
gloomy calmness with which Aunt Chloe stood by the wagon.
I's done my tears, she said, looking grimly at the
trader who was coming up. I does not feel to
cry for that our old limb. Nohow get in, said

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Haley to Tom, as he strode through the crowd of
servants who looked at him with lowering brows. Tom got
in and Haley, drawing out from under the wagon seat,
a heavy pair of shackles made them fast around each ankle.
A smothered groan of indignation ran through the whole circle,
and Missus Shelby spoke from the Verandah, mister Haley, I

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assure you that precaution is entirely unnecessary. Don't know, ma'am.
I've lost one five hundred dollars from this yard place,
and I can't afford run no more risks. What else
could she spect on him, said Aunt Chloe indignantly, while
the two boys, who now seemed to comprehend at once
their father's destiny, clung to her gown, sobbing and growing vehemently.

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I'm sorry, said Tom, did mass George happened to be way.
George had gone to spend two or three days with
a companion on a neighboring estate, and having departed early
in the morning before Tom's misfortune had been made public,
had left without hearing of it. Give my love to
Massa George, he said earnestly. Hailey whipped up the horse,

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and with a steady, mournful look, fixed to the last
on the old place. Tom was whirled away. Mister Shelby
at this time was not at home. He had sold
Tom under the spur of a driving necessity to get
out of the power of a man whom he dreaded,
and his first feeling after the consummation of the bargain
had been that of relief. But his wife's expostulations awoke

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his half slumbering regrets, and Tom's manly disinterestedness increased the
unpleasantness of his feelings. It was in vain that he
said to himself that he had a right to do it,
that everybody did it, and that some did it without
even the excuse of necessity. He could not satisfy his
own feelings, and that he might not witness the unpleasant

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scenes of the consummation. He had gone on a short
business tour up the country, hoping that all would be
over before he returned. Tom and Haley rattled on along
the dusty road, whirling past every old familiar spot, until
the bounds of the estate were fairly passed, and they
found themselves out on the open pike. After they had

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ridden about a mile, Haley suddenly drew up at the
door of a blacksmith's shop. When taking out with him
a pair of handcuffs, he stepped into the shop to
have a little alteration in them. These airs little too
small for his build, said Haley, showing the fetters and
pointing out to Tom. Lord, Now if there ain't Shelby's Tom,

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he hadn't sold him, now, said the smith. Yes he has,
said Haley. Now ye don't. Well really, said the smith,
who'd ha thought it? Why you needn't go to fettin
him up this yar way. He's the faithfulest, best creetur. Yes, yes,
said Haley. But your good fellers are just the critter
to want her run off them stupid ones, says, don't

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cara ward they go and shiftless, drunken ones as don't
car for nothing. They'll stick by and leck as not
be rather pleased to be toted around. But these are
prime fellers. They hates it like sin. No way, but
to feder them got legs, they'll use em, no mistake, well,
said the smith, feeling among his tools. The implantations down
there stranger ain't just the place a Kentuck nigger wants

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to go to. They dies. They are tollible fast, don't
they Well, yes, tullible fast. They're they're dying, is what
with the clematon and one thing another, And they die
so as to keep the market up pretty brisk, said Haley. Wow,
a feller can't help thinking it's a mighty pity to
have a nice quiet Likely feller as good as an

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as tom is go down to be fairly ground up
on one of them their sugar plantations. While he's got
a far chance. I promise to do well by him.
I'll get him in house servant in some good old family,
and then if he stands the fever and Clemayton, he'll
have a berth good as any nigger ought to ask for.
He leaves his wife and chillin up there, s'pose yes, see,

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he'll get another, lyar lord. There's women enough everwhere, said Haley.
Tom was sitting very mournfully on the outside of the
shop while this conversation was going on. Suddenly he heard
the quick, short click of a horse's hoof behind him,
and before he could fairly awake from his surprise, young
Master George sprang into the wagon, threw his arms tumultuously

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round his neck, and was sobbing and scolding with energy.
I declare, it's real mean. I don't care what they say,
any of them. It's a nasty mean shame. If I
was a man, they shouldn't do it. They should not sew,
said George, with a kind of subdued howl. Oh massa, George,
this does me good, said Tom. I couldn't bar to

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go off without seeing you. It does me real good.
Can't tell here. Tom made some movement of his feet
and George's eye fell on the fetters. What a shame,
he exclaimed, lifting his hands. I'll knock that old fellow down.
I will. No, you won't, Master George, and you must
not talk so loud. It won't help me any to
anger him. Well, I won't then, for your sake, but

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only to think of it. Isn't it a shame? They
never sent for me, nor sent me any word. An
if it hadn't been for Tom Lincoln, I shouldn't have
heard it. I tell ye, I'd blew him up, well,
all of em at home. Ah, I wasn't right. I
feared my sair. Tom can't help it. I say, it's
a shame. Look here, Uncle Tom said, he turning his

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back to the shop and speaking in a mysterious tone.
I've brought you my dollar. Oh. I wouldn't think a
taken Aunt, Master George, no ways in the world, said Tom,
quite moved. But you shall take it, said George. Look here.
I told Aunt Chloe I do it, and she advised
me just to make a hole in it and put
a string through it, so you would hang it round

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your neck and keep it out of sight. Else this
mean scamp would take it away. I tell you, Tom,
I want to blow him up. It would do me good. No, don't,
Massa George, for it won't do me any good. Well,
I won't for your sake, said George, busily tying his
dollar round Tom's neck. But there, now, button your coat

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tight over it and keep it, and remember every time
you see it that I'll come down after you and
bring you back. Aunt Chloe and I have been talking
about it. I told her not to fear. I'll see
to it, and I'll tease father's life out if he
don't do it. Oh, Massa George, you mustn't talk so
about your father, Lord Uncle Tom, I don't mean anything bad.

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And now, Massa George, said Tom, ye must be a
good boy. Remember how many hearts has sought on ye.
All's keep close to yer mother. Don't be getting into
any of them foolish ways. Boys eyes are gettin too
big to mind their mothers. Tell you what, Master George,
The Lord gives good many things twice over, but he
won't give you a mother. But once you'll never see

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such another woman, Master George, if you live to be
a hundred years old, so now you hold out o
her and grow up and be a comfort to her.
There's my own good boy. You will now, won't y? Yes,
I will, Uncle Tom, said George seriously. And be careful,
O you're speakin', Massa George. Young boys when it comes
to your age, is wilful. Sometimes it's nature they should be.

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But real gentlemen, such as I hope you'll be. Never
let's fall on words that isn't spectful to their parents.
You ain't fended, Massa George. No, indeed, Uncle Tom, you
always did give me good advice. Ey's older, you know,
said Tom, stroking the boy's fine curly head with his large,
strong hand, but speaking in a voice as tender as
a woman's. And I sees all that's bound up in you, Oh,

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Massa George. You has everything, learnin privileges, readin writing, and
you'll grow up to be a great, learned good man.
And all the people on the place, and your mother
and father be so proud on you. Be a good
Massa like your father, and be a Christian like your mother,
member your creator in the days of your youth, Master George,

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I'll be real good, Uncle Tom, I tell you, said George,
I'm going to be a first rder, and don't you
be discouraged. I'll have you back to the place. Yet,
as I told Aunt Chloe this morning, I'll build our
house all over, and you shall have a room for
a parlor with a carpet on it. When I'm a man, Oh,
you'll have good times. Yet. Haley now came to the
door with the handcuffs in his hands. Look here now, mister,

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said George, with an air of great superiority as he
got out. I shall let father and mother know how
you treat Uncle Tom. You're welcome, said the trader. I
should think you'd be ashamed to spend all your life
buying men and women and chaining them like cattle. I
should think you'd feel mean, said George. So long as
your grand folks wants to buy men and women, I'm

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as good as they is, said Haley. Tain't any meaner
sellin on em an tis buyin. I'll never do either
when I'm a man, said George. I'm ashamed this day
that I'm a Kentuckian. I always was proud of it before.
And George sat very straight on his horse and looked
round with an air as if he expected the state
would be impressed with his opinion. Well, goodbye, Uncle Tom,

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keep a stiff upper lip, said George. Goodbye mass George,
said Tom, looking fondly and admiringly at him. God Almighty,
bless you, Ah, Kentucky hadn't got many like you, he
said in the fullness of his heart. As the frank,
boyish face was lost to his view. Away he went,
and Tom looked till the clatter of his horse's heels

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died away, the last sound or sight of his home.
But over his heart there seemed to be a warm
spot where those young hands had placed that precious dollar.
Tom put up his hand and held it close to
his heart. Now, I tell you what, Tom said Haley,
as he came up to the wagon and threw in
the handcuffs. I mean to start fire with you, as

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I generally do with my niggers. I'll tell you now
to begin with you treat me far, and I'll treat
you far. I ain't never hard on my niggers, calculates
to do the best for him. I can now you see,
you'd better just settle down comfortable and not be trying
no tricks, Because niggers tricks of all sorts I'm up to,
and it's no use. If Niggers is quiet and don't

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try to get off, they has good times with me.
And if they don't, why it's our fault, not mine.
Tom assured Haley that he had no present intentions of
running off. In fact, the exhortation seemed rather a superfluous
one to a man with a great pair of iron
fetters on his feet. But mister Haley had got in
the habit of commencing his relations with his stock with

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little exhortations of this nature, calculated as he deemed, to
inspire cheerfulness and confidence and prevent the necessity of any
unpleasant scenes. And here for the present we take our
leave of Tom to pursue the fortunes of other characters
in our story. End of Chapter ten. Dream Audio Books

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hopes you have enjoyed this program.