Concluding Remarks
The writer has often been inquired of, by correspondents
from different parts of the country, whether this
narrative is a true one; and to these inquiries she
will give one general answer.
The separate incidents that compose the narrative
are, to a very great extent, authentic, occurring,
many of them, either under her own observation, or
that of her personal friends. She or her friends
have observed characters the counterpart of almost
all that are here introduced; and many of the sayings
are word for word as heard herself, or reported to
her.
The personal appearance of Eliza, the character ascribed
to her, are sketches drawn from life. The incorruptible
fidelity, piety and honesty, of Uncle Tom, had more
than one development, to her personal knowledge.
Some of the most deeply tragic and romantic, some of
the most terrible incidents, have also their parallels
in reality. The incident of the mother’s
crossing the Ohio river on the ice is a well-known
fact. The story of “old Prue,” in
the second volume, was an incident that fell under
the personal observation of a brother of the writer,
then collecting-clerk to a large mercantile house,
in New Orleans. From the same source was derived
the character of the planter Legree. Of him her
brother thus wrote, speaking of visiting his plantation,
on a collecting tour; “He actually made me feel
of his fist, which was like a blacksmith’s hammer,
or a nodule of iron, telling me that it was ‘calloused
with knocking down niggers.’ When I left
the plantation, I drew a long breath, and felt as
if I had escaped from an ogre’s den.”
That the tragical fate of Tom, also, has too many
times had its parallel, there are living witnesses,
all over our land, to testify. Let it be remembered
that in all southern states it is a principle of jurisprudence
that no person of colored lineage can testify in a
suit against a white, and it will be easy to see that
such a case may occur, wherever there is a man whose
passions outweigh his interests, and a slave who has
manhood or principle enough to resist his will.
There is, actually, nothing to protect the slave’s
life, but the character of the master.
Facts too shocking to be contemplated occasionally
force their way to the public ear, and the comment
that one often hears made on them is more shocking
than the thing itself. It is said, “Very
likely such cases may now and then occur, but they
are no sample of general practice.” If
the laws of New England were so arranged that a master
could now and then torture an apprentice to
death, would it be received with equal composure?
Would it be said, “These cases are rare, and
no samples of general practice”? This injustice
is an inherent one in the slave system,—it
cannot exist without it.
