1. After the publication of Uncle Tom's Cabin, or Life Among the Lowly.
In addition to being an abolitionist tract, Uncle Tom's Cabin was also
a reflection of life as it was in the mid-nineteenth century. A kinder
version of Shelby appears as the Southerner in the journal entries below.
I haven't the time to read, as my good wife has. But what she told
me this evening, about a book that has been circulating among her friends,
makes me hopeful that before too long this horror of slavery will be over.
I can scarce bear to cross the border into Maryland, what with the owning
of slaves so close to home. I can't look into their eyes, the slaves I
meet when I go down into that place. I have heard rumblings about
Baltimore, how it provides passage for those poor folks escaping cruelty
and being owned by another. I hope my children might be spared dealing
with this, but perhaps not as they're almost grown. I'm afraid that if it
takes war to change things, that war will be right here. Gettysburg isn't
far from Maryland, and from those people I meet down there at market, I
suspect they'd do just about anything to keep their slaves. Except maybe
in Baltimore, but that's a Sodom of a different sort.
I near flung that book into the fire, except it isn't cold enough for
a fire. I shouldn't have ever taught my overseer to read. I thought it
might be convenient for me, and it is. But I'm afraid he'll get his hands
on that thing and take it into his head to lead a revolt. And he has
nothing to revolt for. I keep him well. I let him marry. I even let him
teach his two children to read. I can't see what the fuss is about anyway.
I don't know anyone like that Mr. Legree. All those I know keep their
slaves clothed, fed, sheltered and happy, which is more than I can say for
my life sometimes. When all the bills come due and the tobacco hasn't sold
well, and I have to go ...