UNCLE TOM'S CABIN

150 KEY TO UNCLE TOM S CABIN.
If we look back to the advertisements, we
shall see that the traders take onlythe
younger ones, between the ages of ten and
thirty Ḅut this is only one port, and only
one mode of exporting ; for multitudesof
them are sent in cofflesover land " vlyet
Mr. J. Thornton Randolphrepresents the
negroes of Virginia as living in increase the greater
pastoral
the master's gains, and especially
since the mixed blood demands a considerably
security, smokingtheir pipes under their higherprice than the pure black.
own vines and fig-trees, the venerable patriarch
of the flock declaring that
The
" he nebber
hab hear such a ting as a niggersold to
This system bears with extreme severity
the slave. It subjects him to a perpetual
being sold to the " soul-driver,"
upon
fear of
which to the
slave is the realizationof all conceivable woes and
horrors,more dreaded than death. An awful apprehension
of this fate haunts the poor suffererby
day and by night, from his cradle to his grave.
Suspense hangslike a thunder-cloud over his head.
He knows that there isnot a passinghour, whether
he wakes or sleeps,which may not be the
last that he shall spendwith his wife and children.
Every day or week some acquaintanceis
snatched from his side,and thus the consciousness
of his own danger is kept continually awake.
'"
Surely my turn will come next," is his harrowing
conviction ; for he knows that he was reared
for this,as the ox for the yoke,or the sheep for
the slaughter Ịn this aspectțhe slave's condition
is trulyindescribable. Suspense, even when
it relates to an event of no
greatmoment, and
" endureth but for a night," is hard to bear. But
ivhen it broods over all,absolutely
all that isdear,
shilling the present with its deepshade,and casting
its awful gloom over the future, it must break
the heart ! Such is the suspense under which
every slave in the breeding states lives.It poisons
all his littlelot of bliss. If a father,he cannot
go forth to his toil without bidding a mental farewell
to his wife and children. He cannot return,
weary and worn, from the field,with any certainty
that he shall not find his home robbed and desolate.
Nor can he seek his bed of straw and rags without
the frightful misgiving that his wife may be
torn from his arms before morning. Should a
white strangerapproachhis master's mansion, he
fears that the soul-driver has come, and awaits in
terror the overseer's mandate, " You are sold ; follow
that man." There is no beingon earth whom
the slaves of the breedingstates regardwith so
much horror as the trader. He is to them what
the prowlingkidnapperis to their less wretched
brethren in the wilds of Africa. The master knows
this,and that there is no punishmentso effectual
to secure labor,or deter from misconduct,as the
threat of beingdelivered to the soul-driver.*
* This horriblyexpressiveappellationis in common
use among the slaves of the breedingstates.
Another consequence of this systemisthe prevalence
of licentiousness. This is indeed one of the
foul features of slavery
everywhere; but it is especially
prevalentand indiscriminate where slavebreedingis
conducted as a business. It grows directly
out of the system, and is inseparable from it.
* * *
The pecuniaryinducement to generalpollution
must be very strongșince the larger the slave
remainder of the extract contains specification
too dreadfulto be quotedẈe can
Georgi all his life, unless dat nigger did only refer the reader to the volume, p. 13.
sometingvery bad."
The poets of America,true to the holy
An affecting picture of the soul of their divine art,
consequences
have shed over some
of this traffic upon both master and slave
of the horrid realitiesof this trade the
is
drawn by the committee of the volume from patheticlight of poetry. Longfellow and
which we have
Whittier have told
quoted.
us, in verses beautiful as
The writer cannot conclude this chapterstrung pearls, yet sorrowful as a mother's
better than by the languagewhich tears,
they
some of the incidentsof thisunnatural
and
have used.
ghastly traffic. For the sake of a common
humanity, let us
describesno common event.
TnE QUADROON GIRL.
The Slaver in the broad Jagoon
Lay moored with idle sail :
He waited for the risingmoon,
And for the eveninggale.
hopethat the firstextract
Under the shore his boat was tied
And all her listlesscrew
Watched the gray alligator slide
Into the stillbayou.
Odors of orange-flowers and spice
Reached them,from time to time,
Like airs that breathe from Paradise
Upon a world of crime.
The Planter,under his roof of thatch,
Smoked thoughtfullyand slow ;
The Slaver's thumb was on the latch,
He seemed in haste to go.
He said, " My shipat anchor rides
In yonder broad lagoon;
I onlywait the eveningtides,
And the risingof the moon."
Before them,with her face upraised,
In timid attitude,
Like one half curious,half amazed,
A Quadroon maiden stood.
Her eyes were large, and full of light,
Her arms and neck were bare ;
No garment she wore, save a kirtle bright.
And her own longraven hair.
And on her lipsthere playeda smile
As holy,meek, and faint,
As lightsin some cathedral aisle
The features of a saint.
"
The soilis barren țhe farm is old,"
The thoughtfulPlanter said ;
Then looked upon the Slaver's gold,
And then upon the maid.
His heart within him was at strife
With such accursed gains;
For he knew whose passionsgave her life,
Whose blood ran in her veins.