The Development of Civilization: Bronze Age Mesopotamia

Model Questions
1) Examine the process of urbanization and state formation in Mesopotamia with special reference to the role that metal played in it.
2) Explain the process involved in the transformation of simple cultures to complex civilizations, paying special attention to Bronze Age Mesopotamia
3) Describe the elements of social and economic complexity in Ancient Mesopotamia
4) Describe the stages of urban development in the Sumerian Civilization
5) Account for the emergence of complex civilization in Mesopotamia in the Bronze Age

Essential Readings:
Brian Fagan, People of the Earth: An Introduction to World Prehistory, Illinois. Delhi: Pearson, 2004 (first pub:1989).
Chapters: 14 and 15.
V. Gorden Childe, What Happened in History. Harmondsworth; Penguin, 1942. Chapter 5
UNESCO, History of Humanity, Vol. II: From Third Millennium to Seventh Century BC, London: 1996.
George Roax, Ancient Iraq, Harmondsworth, 1992.
Susan Pollock, Ancient Mesopotamia, the Eden that never was. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1999.
J N Postgate, Early Mesopotamia, London: 1992.
V. Gordon Childe, 'The Bronze Age', Past and Present , No. 12 (Nov. 1957), pp. 2-15

Additional References for project work:
James Scott, The Art of Not Being Governed: An Anarchist History of Upland Southeast Asia, New Delhi, Orient Blackswan, pp. ix-xiv, pp.1-39
Karen Rhea Nemat-Nejat, Daily Life in Ancient Mesopotamia, Peabody, Massachusetts, Hendricks Publishers, 2008
Patricia Wattenmaker, The Household and the State in Upper Mesopotamia, Washington, Smithsonian Institute, 1998.
Henry T. Wright, The Administration of Rural Production in an Early Mesopotamian Town, Ann Arbor, University of Michigan, 1969.
Mario Liverani (ed), Akkad: The First World Empire: Structure, Ideology, Traditions. Padova, Sargon Srl, 1993.
Mc Guire Gibson and Robert D. Biggs, The Organization of Power: Aspects of Bureaucracy in the Ancient Near East, Chicago, Oriental Institute, 1991.
Jean Bottero, Mesopotamia: Writing, Reasoning and the Gods. (tr by Zainab Bahrani and Marc Van de Mieroop), Chicago, University of Chicago Press, 1992.
Robert Mc C Adams, The Heartland of Cities, Chicago, University of Chicago Press, 1981.
Greda Lerner, The Creation of Patriarchy. New York, 1986.

Ancient Mesopotamia

(courtesy: Bible history.com)

Reconstruction-Readings

Reconstruction 1
JM
Reconstruction: Conservative and Radical Phases 1863-1877

Reconstruction has been subjected to varying interpretations has historiographical debates. Under this rubric we will outline, briefly, the broader interpretative framework of the Reconstruction Era.

Model questions
1) Discuss the various interpretations of the aims, programmes and results of the Presidential and Radical Reconstruction
2) Critically analyse the Radical Reconstruction Programme of the south after the Civil War.
3) “The Period of reconstruction was an age of Hate”. Comment.
4) Examine the historiographical debate on the Presidential and Radical Reconstruction Programmes.
5) Is it correct to describe the Radical Reconstruction period as a “Tragic Era”?
6) Evaluate Congressional reconstruction and its impact on the South.
7) What were the reasons for the conflict between Presidential and Congressional reconstruction programmes?

Recommended Readings

Grob, B N and Billias. Interpretations in American History: Patters and Perspectives. Chapter: 11: The Reconstruction Era: Constructive or Destructive?. 431-482
Tindall, George Brown and David Shi. 1992. America: A Narrative History, vol. 2. London: W.W. Norton and Company. Chapter 18: Reconstruction: North and South. 693-731.
Randall, James and Donald David. 1961. The Civil War and Reconstruction (second edition). Boston: D C Heath and Company. Chapter 31-39.

Kaushik, R P. 1983. Significant Themes in American History. Delhi: Ajanta Books International. Chapter 7, 122-141.

Du Bois, W. E. B., and David L. Lewis. 1992. Black Reconstruction in America. New York: Atheneum.
Foner, Eric. 1988. Reconstruction: America's Unfinished Revolution, 1863-1877. 1st ed. New York: Harper & Row.
Stampp, Kenneth M. 1965. The Era of Reconstruction, 1865-1877. 1st ed. New York: Knopf.
Woodward, C. Vann. 1991. Reunion and Reaction: The Compromise of 1877 and the End of Reconstruction. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Wright, Gavin. 1996. Old South, New South: Revolutions in the Southern Economy since the Civil War. Louisiana pbk. ed. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press.
Du Bois, W. E. B. 1910. “Reconstruction and its Benefits”, Amercian Historical Review, XV, 781-799.
William B Hesseltine. 1935. 'Economic Factors in the Abandonment of Reconstruction'. The Mississippi Valley Historical Review, XXII, 191-210.



With Malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.

--President Lincoln

Emancipation Proclamation by Abraham Lincoln

By the President of the United States of America:
A PROCLAMATION
Whereas on the 22nd day of September, A.D. 1862, a proclamation was issued by the President of the United States, containing, among other things, the following, to wit:
"That on the 1st day of January, A.D. 1863, all persons held as slaves within any State or designated part of a State the people whereof shall then be in rebellion against the United States shall be then, thenceforward, and forever free; and the executive government of the United States, including the military and naval authority thereof, will recognize and maintain the freedom of such persons and will do no act or acts to repress such persons, or any of them, in any efforts they may make for their actual freedom.
"That the executive will on the 1st day of January aforesaid, by proclamation, designate the States and parts of States, if any, in which the people thereof, respectively, shall then be in rebellion against the United States; and the fact that any State or the people thereof shall on that day be in good faith represented in the Congress of the United States by members chosen thereto at elections wherein a majority of the qualified voters of such States shall have participated shall, in the absence of strong countervailing testimony, be deemed conclusive evidence that such State and the people thereof are not then in rebellion against the United States."
Now, therefore, I, Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States, by virtue of the power in me vested as Commander-In-Chief of the Army and Navy of the United States in time of actual armed rebellion against the authority and government of the United States, and as a fit and necessary war measure for supressing said rebellion, do, on this 1st day of January, A.D. 1863, and in accordance with my purpose so to do, publicly proclaimed for the full period of one hundred days from the first day above mentioned, order and designate as the States and parts of States wherein the people thereof, respectively, are this day in rebellion against the United States the following, to wit:
Arkansas, Texas, Louisiana (except the parishes of St. Bernard, Palquemines, Jefferson, St. John, St. Charles, St. James, Ascension, Assumption, Terrebone, Lafourche, St. Mary, St. Martin, and Orleans, including the city of New Orleans), Mississippi, Alabama, Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, and Virginia (except the forty-eight counties designated as West Virginia, and also the counties of Berkeley, Accomac, Morthhampton, Elizabeth City, York, Princess Anne, and Norfolk, including the cities of Norfolk and Portsmouth), and which excepted parts are for the present left precisely as if this proclamation were not issued.
And by virtue of the power and for the purpose aforesaid, I do order and declare that all persons held as slaves within said designated States and parts of States are, and henceforward shall be, free; and that the Executive Government of the United States, including the military and naval authorities thereof, will recognize and maintain the freedom of said persons.
And I hereby enjoin upon the people so declared to be free to abstain from all violence, unless in necessary self-defence; and I recommend to them that, in all case when allowed, they labor faithfully for reasonable wages.
And I further declare and make known that such persons of suitable condition will be received into the armed service of the United States to garrison forts, positions, stations, and other places, and to man vessels of all sorts in said service.
And upon this act, sincerely believed to be an act of justice, warranted by the Constitution upon military necessity, I invoke the considerate judgment of mankind and the gracious favor of Almighty God.

Early farming sites in Southwest Asia

(courtesy: archAtlas)

Prehistoric Times

I Tenen, The Ancient World. Chapter One - Prehistoric Times

A. The Old Stone Age

History really begins when men were civilised enough to set down a record of their actions by cutting marks in clay and stone, or by writing on paper and parchment. They first began to do this about six thousand years ago, and we find them in these records already living in great cities, masters of arts and crafts, and divided into humbly- and nobly-born, poor and rich, all subjects of powerful kings. But perhaps you will be curious enough to ask whether we know anything about men's lives before written History begins. Yes, we know something about that too, and our knowledge is the result of much clever and patient study of the remains left by those very, very distant ancestors of ours, such as their own bones, the bones of the animals they hunted or tended, bits of their pottery or clothing, and, perhaps the most interesting of all, the wonderful drawings which they scratched on bones or painted on cave walls. The study of pre-historic man is by no means complete yet, but we can at least take a few glimpses at the long, long ago.

The first glimpse shows us the earth as it was from thirty to twenty thousand years ago, and you will hardly want to go further back than that! The oceans and continents had not yet taken the shapes that we know to-day. The land masses were less broken up by seas. The climate of Europe in those far-off days varied in a mysterious way.


For centuries it would be much hotter than it is to-day, then a long period of cold weather would set in, there would be endless snow-storms, till a thick sheet of ice covered the "top" half of our hemisphere, and even seas froze. Men would slowly retreat south before the advancing, pale-blue ice-wall, till a milder age returned. Under such conditions Man made little progress for thousands of years. You can think of the people of the early Old Stone Age, as it is called, as squat and hairy, with long, powerful arms and short, thick legs. They have low foreheads with a ridge over the eyes, chins that slope backwards, flat, broad noses and long, thick lips that barely cover their enormous teeth.

If they wear anything at all, it will be some animal's hide. While the women perhaps look for roots and berries, eggs or shell-fish worth eating, the men spend a good deal of their time hunting—for that is the main source of their food—various types of hairy elephant and rhinoceros, hippopotamus, the huge saber-toothed tiger, the boar, reindeer, bison and elk. At first their weapons were stone or wooden clubs and stakes.

Then they learned how to knock sharp-edged flakes off flints and fasten them with sinews and vegetable fibers into the split top of a branch so as to form a spear. The core of the flint lashed to a stout stick would form a rough hammer or axe. You may not think such weapons would be of much help, say, against a monster tiger or a fifteen-foot-high elephant, but often the quarry was first lured into some trap or pit. The meat was roasted, for there were no pots of any kind for boiling or even storing water. But men had already made the tremendous, all-important discovery of Fire. Thanks to that, they could survive the bitterly cold weather that often prevailed for long periods, they could lighten the darkness with torches, make their food more enjoyable, harden the points of stakes and wooden spears, and scare away the tiger that prowled round the camp at night.

How the Old Stone Age people produced fire we can guess from the methods used to-day by primitive tribes, who in many respects have not risen above the level of the earliest men. By studying the habits of such tribes, we get much clearer ideas of how the first men lived. The usual method of making fire among such people is to twirl a stick very quickly, either between the hands or by means of a thong, in a hole in a block of wood. The friction heats the tiny splinters that break off, till they burst into flame. It is also possible that quite early on some genius discovered that a shower of sparks could be produced by striking a flint against certain metallic stones, and that dried moss could be set alight in this way. This method, much later improved into the flint, steel and tinder outfit, became the usual way of producing fire right down to modern times.

There seems to have been little difference of race at this period; men looked pretty much the same everywhere. And we do not see signs of fighting on any large scale. Settlements were usually made on the banks of rivers (for remember that there was nothing to carry water in), particularly if there was a good supply of flints near by.




Man, in this age, lived an entirely open-air life. In wet, stormy weather a rough sort of shelter might have been built by sticking a few boughs into the ground at an angle, and weaving twigs between them, but this would be more of a windscreen to protect the fire than a hut to live in. People at this period were sometimes buried underneath their hearths, and so we find their bones along with those of the animals they had eaten.

After this glimpse of the earliest men, we must leap in Time over something like ten thousand years. Even after this jump, we are still in the Old Stone Age, but great progress has been made, perhaps because of the more temperate climate which Europe now enjoyed, though occasionally there were still short spells of bitterly cold weather.


The people of this period are less hairy and ape-like than the early folk, and their bodies are more upright, smooth and slender. Their chins and foreheads are fairly straight and they have longer noses. They still wear skins, but there is some attempt to shape them to the figure with rough sewing, done with bone needles and thongs. For though flint tools are now well-shaped, this is chiefly an age of bone-tipped weapons and tools, of a high standard. The reindeer is the most important animal of this period, and there is a good deal of fishing with harpoons. Men and women were now vain enough about their appearance to decorate themselves with necklaces and bangles of shells or animals' teeth, and with tufts of feathers. Sometimes they lived in tent-shaped huts, sometimes, when it was cold, in caves from which, often, they would first have to dislodge monster bears or lions.

What makes us realise most vividly that already Man had made wonderful progress in some ways, are the marvellous wall-paintings, chiefly of animals, that have been found in such cave-dwellings. The finest of these are in southern France and northern Spain.

In the Altamira caves, near Santander on the north coast of Spain, the roof of a cave is closely covered with drawings of many bison, together with a few wild horses, boar and deer. The figures are about five feet long, coloured mainly in black and red, varied here and there with browns and yellows. The main lines of the drawings are actually carved out of the rock. The animals are shown strong, alert, vigorous, in all the poses which the hunter knew so well. And this gives us the clue to their meaning. They are not there for decoration. In many cases they are in a part of the cave which is hard to get at and which could never have been used to live in. Now in some cases the position of the animal's heart or a weak spot in its spine is specially marked. As we have reason to think that there were witch-doctors in those days, it seems very likely that these drawings were used in some magic rites before a great hunt. Near some of the paintings have been found tools for carving the outlines, animals' shoulder-blades which had been used as palettes, materials for making paint, and hollowed stones to contain the grease which must have been the fuel of the earliest lamps. For without a clear, steady light these drawings could never have been made.


Apart from such paintings as these, figures of animals have been found so deeply carved on cave walls that they are almost statues. There are also quite a number of small but excellently cut statuettes of animals, especially of boar. Late in this period we find quaint paintings of hunters who seem to be using bows and arrows, and there are also little carved figures of women.

It is rather early yet to start the history of Britain, which, for most of the Old Stone Age, was not yet even an island. But you may like to know that the skull of one of the very earliest men in the world was found at Piltdown by the river Ouse, in Sussex; while relics of the later Old Stone Age were dug up in Kent's Cavern at Torquay, south Devon, at Cresswell Caves, near Derby, and at Paviland Cave, in south Wales, near Swansea.

Exercises

1. With the help of your Geography books, etc., compare early Old Stone Age men with Australian "blackfellows" and late Old Stone Age men with Eskimos and Red Indians.

2. What use would the reindeer be to early Man apart from food?

3. Draw the bison on p. 1 and colour it in red and black.

4. Find out about the cave-paintings in Rhodesia.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

B. The New Stone Age

Again we must make a Time-jump, and when we look at mankind once more, again, what great changes we see! We have reached a period some eight thousand years ago. By this time the land and sea masses of the globe have, roughly, their present outlines, and the British Isles are separating from the Continent. The climate of Europe is now temperate, there is a good deal of rain, and this produces long belts of forest, and many lakes and marshes. Men begin to show the main divisions of race. One type, the Mongolian, with straight black hair, yellow skin and slanting eyes, occupies most of Asia and America. The Negro type, with black skin, flat nose and thick lips, inhabits Africa south of the Equator, and similar people are in south India and Australia; while Europe, the Near East and north Africa are inhabited by races whom we may call "white" for convenience. These latter can be further divided up into fair northern people and dark southerners, as long as we remember not to separate them too sharply, as they frequently overlap.

As for the great change in people's lives, we can sum that up by saying that Man has become a Farmer! He keeps cows, sheep, pigs and goats, and he uses their milk. He has given up hunting horses for food, yet he has not begun to use them as he did later. But the dog has obviously been his friend for a long time, and goes with him into the gloomy depths of the forest when he hunts the red deer, the bison, the giant ox, the wild boar and the fox. We can only guess how animals were first tamed. Perhaps young ones were caught and kept as pets.

People usually lived on bare hills like the Downs of south England. There was too much forest and swamp on the flat ground for people who had to graze cattle. Up there they made settlements in huts which consisted of circular pits or low stone walls covered by a thatched roof shaped like a bell-tent. These settlements were surrounded by stockades into which the cattle were driven at night to prevent them from straying, and to protect them against bears and wolves. (Much later, when the ugly habit of organised warfare was developed, there were elaborate trenches and high banks as well as ramparts of wood. You will find as good examples of these huge earth-works in Dorset and Wiltshire as anywhere in Europe.) You will not see much water on the Downs, and where it was not easy to get it from lower levels, they made artificial dew-ponds, lining a shallow pit with clay to form a moisture condenser.



A New Stone Age Settlement

(Near these earthworks terraces are sometimes found, down the hill-side. These, like the earthworks, belong to the Iron Age (p. 22).) But we know definitely that men already grew corn in the New Stone Age, another great advance on the Old Stone Age, and one which led directly to improved civilisation, as we shall see later. Now there are in various parts of the world wild plants corresponding to all our grain crops. People must have discovered that the seeds of these were a satisfying food. It must also have been observed that a seed planted in the ground produced a plant next year which yielded many seeds. Some thrifty soul thought it worth while to save a few seeds and bury them in a cleared patch of ground, and after carefully tending the green shoots next spring, he (or was it she?) was rewarded in autumn with a little crop of corn.



New Stone Age Implements, Including Forms Also In Use - In The Following Early Bronze Age

a, stone celt or hatchet;
b, flint spear-head;
c, scraper;
d, arrow-heads;
e, flint flake-knives;
f, core from which flint flakes are taken off;
g, flint awl;
h, flint saw;
i, stone hammer head.
For all this digging, shovels made from the shoulder-blades of deer, and picks made from their antlers, were used. Apart from polished, ground, and sharp-edged spear - and arrow-heads, very serviceable axes and hammers of this period have been found, the stone heads carefully shaped and finished, and drilled with smooth holes (a great advance, this) for the handles. The latter too have the right sort of curve, and are made of "elastic" woods. Strips of wood have been found with small triangles of flint fixed in a line, and this suggests saws. With tools like these, very profitable days could be spent down in the forest. You will find good specimens of these in the London museums.

You have probably asked already, "How did they carry and keep their water and their milk?" And the answer is, in earthenware bowls, for the use of pottery (and with it the practice of cooking) is another improvement on the Old Stone Age. Earlier on, leather bottles were used, and these were sometimes lined with clay, if they were leaky.


We can imagine the clay lining one day going quite hard, because of some form of heat, and this is perhaps how the first jars were made. The study of primitive pottery, of the shapes and decorations, and traces of the contents, has constantly provided important clues for those who seek to solve the mysteries of early civilisation.

Late in this period spinning and weaving were practised, both with wool, and linen made from the flax plant. It is not easy to guess how these arts were invented. But we know that baskets were made, and plaiting is a simple form of weaving. However, it is a long step from that to the loom.

It is also late on in the New Stone Age that we first come across Lake-Dwellings. Instead of settlements on low hills, we find large groups of people living on lakes and big rivers. Stakes were driven into the lake or river bed and large wooden platforms built on these, connected with the shore by a gangway. On the platforms they built their huts. The lake-dwellers are hardly likely to have been merely farmers. They must have lived more by hunting and fishing, gathering nuts, fruits and herbs in the great forests of that age.

We can trace a long chain of lake-dwellings through the Swiss and Italian lakes, south-eastwards down the Danube and north-westwards along the Rhine, through northern France and Belgium, to England, Scotland and Ireland. There was a lake-village at Glastonbury, east Somerset, as remains clearly show, and the English soldiers who hunted the rebels in Ireland in 1603 found many such settlements. They are common to-day in the East Indies.

These features of the New Stone Age, improved tools, crops and cattle, cooking, weaving and pottery, bring it nearer to life as we know it. And there is no big, mysterious gap between the end of the New Stone Age and the present day. We know from drawings of circles and crescents that people were already observing the sun and the moon, as we should expect farmers to do. And we have reason to think that they were already beginning to study numbers and to consider some lucky, like twelve, because it split up so conveniently, and others unlucky, like thirteen, because it was so very awkward.




But we still have to deal with the most impressive relics of this age, namely, circles of large stones, surrounded by earthworks and approached by stone-edged avenues. It so happens that by far the largest and most magnificent of all these monuments known to us was set up at Avebury, a few miles west of Marlborough, in east Wiltshire. But it was almost entirely destroyed not so very long ago by two farmers, who wanted the stone! There are other famous circles at Carnac, in Brittany. But the one you are most likely to see for yourselves is Stonehenge, on Salisbury Plain, in Wiltshire. It is partly in ruins now, so it will be simpler to describe it as it was over three thousand years ago. Inside an earthen rampart a hundred yards across, which was approached by a perfectly straight avenue five hundred yards long, stood thirty tall blocks of stone arranged in a circle. The tops of these were linked by a circle of flat blocks, and these lintel stones were joined to each other and to the uprights by tongues and slots carved on the stones.

Within this massive outer ring was arranged a second circle of small, separate blocks. Further in still stood, in horse-shoe formation, five pairs of tall blocks, each with its lintel stone, the central trio being taller and larger than all the rest. Within this horse-shoe lay another, composed of small separate blocks again. And finally, within this small horse-shoe lay a large flat slab of sandstone.

The large blocks are made of local stone, but the smaller blocks and the flat stone came from Pembroke in south Wales. There are three other stones which must be mentioned. One is some little distance down the avenue, the other two are inside the earthwork, but away from the big stone circle. A person who stood and looked down the avenue over the first stone at dawn on June 21st (or the longest day) would see the sun rise. Facing the other two stones, he would, in one case, see the sun set on June 21st, in the other he would see it rise on Dec. 21st (or the shortest day). We can assume that Stonehenge was a temple, and that it was connected with Sun-worship. Those who built it must have taken their religion very seriously.

Clustered thickly round Stonehenge are the burial mounds which are a special feature of the New Stone Age and of the first metal-using age (the Bronze Age), which immediately followed it. The New Stone Age mounds are in the form of a long oval, sometimes as much as a hundred yards long, surrounded by a low stone parapet, and some have a stone corridor leading to a stone cell inside the mound, where the actual burial took place. The round barrows, which belong to the Bronze Age, are much smaller and are shaped like a bowl turned over.


They often contain the ashes of a cremated body. Only important people, of course, were buried with so much trouble.

You will no doubt wonder how the people of the New Stone Age, with their simple civilisation, could have cut, transported and set up the huge blocks of which Stonehenge is composed. For the uprights of the outer ring are twelve and a half feet high, and the cross-section of the lintel stones is, roughly, a three-foot square, while the uprights at the centre of the "horseshoe" are no less than twenty-two feet high.



Late New Stone Age And Bronze Age Hut - The remains of a number of such huts may be seen in south-west Cornwall

Marks on the blocks show that stone and not metal tools were used. By means of poles, used as rollers and as levers, the blocks could slowly have been hauled along by teams of men pulling their hardest at long ropes. Embankments would be built up to the hole in which the stone was to rest. The end of the stone would be levered and rolled till it dropped over the side of the embankment into the hole. Then, by ropes fastened to the top of the stone, it would be pulled upright. A similar method could be used to place the lintel stones.

All the same, it was a tremendous engineering and building feat, which would present difficulties even to modern builders. When we remember that even larger and more numerous blocks were used at Avebury, we need not wonder that many learned men believe that these earliest temples of ours were built under the direction of settlers who brought with them the higher civilisation of the Bronze Age, passed on from Egypt, perhaps, or Crete, about which we are next to read. Lately marks have been noticed on the Avebury stones which may be carvings. At any rate, it is a curious thing that near Stonehenge there are three hundred round burial mounds, and only two long ones. As Pepys, the famous diarist, wrote in the report which he drew up for Charles II after they had visited Avebury and Stonehenge, "Hard to tell, but may yet be told."

Exercises

1. Look up in your dictionary:—palaeo-lithic, neo-lithic, mega-lithic, dolmen, menhir, barrow.

2. Find out from maps and guide-books about the pre-historic remains nearest to where you live or where you are going for your next holiday. Make your own drawings of them.

C. The Bronze Age And The Early Iron Age

We still have to move one stage further towards civilisation before we can begin real History with the stories of separate countries, based on written records. A special feature of this period is the invention of implements with metal heads or blades. The first metal used for practical purposes was copper, which is often found in a state sufficiently pure to enable it to be used at once. It is also soft enough to be hammered or bent into shape when cold. We can imagine that one day some pieces of copper ore were accidentally put into a fire and so melted. The flat and shiny piece of metal which resulted would be curiously examined and perhaps twisted into a shape. And so Man discovered a new and very important art. Now a form of tin is often found near copper ore. Some of this tin must have been combined once with copper by some coppersmith, who noticed that the alloy made a much stronger metal. And so the Bronze Age began. Gold had been discovered earlier, but it was long used only for ornament. Iron came into general use later, and being a much more serviceable metal for hard use, it gradually ousted bronze.

By this time the ass, the horse and the camel had been tamed to bear man and his burdens, and cattle were used for ploughing. The use of rollers, for moving heavy weights, gave some clever mechanic the idea of the Wheel, one of the most important of human inventions. So carts came into use, and chariots too, for this was a great age for warfare; and one of the first uses to which metal was put was the manufacture of swords and daggers, apart from spear- and arrow-heads and shields. Trading too grew more extensive owing to the development of the sailing-ship. As in the case of all the early inventions, we can only guess what happened.



One day, when there was a strong breeze, a man, in the hollowed tree trunk which was the earliest type of boat, may have thrown a skin over some spear or harpoon which was sticking up out of the boat. And he found, to his surprise, that he was moving without any effort.

He might have noticed that the skin was flapping merrily in the breeze, and being an intelligent fellow, he put two and two together. He fixed his spear more carefully and stretched the skin out. And so, perhaps, began the art of sailing, which reached its height in the "tea-clippers" of seventy years ago, with their acre of spread sail.



While most of Europe was still in an early stage of civilisation, covered with dense forests, with no good roads, seas and rivers were the most important highways. There was a brisk traffic along the Mediterranean and up the coasts of France and Spain to Britain and the North Sea, while good use was made of the larger French and German rivers. As we shall read in the next chapter, civilisation first began to make rapid progress in the countries adjoining the east end of the Mediterranean.


Slowly, in the course of centuries, the greatest centres of civilisation moved further and further to the west. During the period we have now reached, after 1000 B.C., the wares of the Near East, particularly vessels, weapons and tools of bronze were exported to western Europe in return for metal ores. And with these oriental cargoes came new arts and new ideas.

What did people in Western Europe look like in the early metal ages? In the Bronze Age men wrapped a square piece of cloth round their bodies from under their arms down to the knees, and kept it in place with a belt tied round the waist. In cold weather they wore cloaks, pinning the top ends round the neck. The women wore a short-sleeved bodice and a long skirt, tied round the waist. All wore moccasins, and the men had leather stockings too. Both sexes used long pins to keep their hair up. In the Iron Age, men wore a short-sleeved vest and a kilt or trousers with bright tartan designs, and sometimes a cloak. Women wore a long frock with short sleeves. Both sexes wore their hair in long plaits, and were fond of metal bracelets and collars decorated with bright enamel. In both the Bronze and Iron Ages men wore long moustaches, but shaved the rest of the face.

And now, for a time, we must leave western Europe, still half-hidden in the mists before the dawn of History, and travel to lands in the East where great cities and temples already stood, shining clearly in the morning sun.

Exercises

1. Look up in your dictionary:—celt, torque, domesticate, starboard.

2. Describe the prehistoric implements in your local museum and how they are arranged. Why are there so many of stone, so few of copper and practically none of iron?

3. Compare Robinson Crusoe's life on the island with that of a Bronze Age man. What advantages had Crusoe?



Time Diagram For Prehistoric Ages In Europe. - Each step represents 1,000 years. The dates given above are to be taken only as rough guides.



TOC

History of the USA c.1776-1945): General Readings

B.A. History (Hons): Course 5 (A): History of The United States of America (C. 1776-1945) for Second Year

S. No. Author Book Title Publication Priority Level Remarks
5.1. Harold Faulkner American Economic History 1976, Harper & Row A
5.2. G.N Grob Interpretation of American History: Patterns and Perspectives, vol. I 1967, Free Press
A
5.3. Woodward, Vann C. (ed.), A Comparative Approach to American History 1968, Basic books B
5.4. Allen Davis & Harold Woodman (ed.) Conflict and Consensus in American History 1972 D.C Heath A
5.5. Richard Hofstadter The American Republic, vols. I &II 1959, Prentice-Hall A
5.6. Paul Boyer, Harvard Sitkoff The Enduring Vision: A History of the American People, vols. I & II 1996, Houghton Mifflin Company
B
5.7. Hicks, John The Federal Union A History of USA to 1865 1964, Houghton Mifflin, B
5.8. David Kennedy, Thomas Bailey & Mel Piehl The Brief American Pageant 1993, D.C. Heath
B
5.9. Peter Carroll &
David Noble, Free and Unfree: A New History of United States 1988, Penguin Books A
5.10. Sheehan, Donald, The Making of American History: The Emergence of a Nation, vol. I, 1963, Holt, Rinehart and Winston
A
5.11. Charles Beard ‘The Constitution As An Economic Document’ from An Economic Interpretation of the Constitution of U.S 1972, Macmillan
B
5.12. Schlesinger, Arthur, The Age of Jackson 1953, Little, Brown A
5.13. Remini, Robert, Andrew Jackson 1969, Harper & Row B
5.14. Randall & Donald, The Civil War and Reconstruction 1969, Little, Brown
A
5.15. R. P. Kaushik, Significant Themes in American History 1983, Ajanta Publications A
5.16. Franklin, John Hope, From Slavery to Freedom 1968, Knopf A
5.17. Stampp, Kenneth, The Imperilled Union (Reference) 1981, Oxford University Press, B
5.18. Hacker United States since 1865 1962, Appleton-Century-Crofts A
5.19. Hicks, John, The Populist Revolt 1961, University of Nebraska Press B
5.20. Hofstadter, Richard, The Age of Reform: From Bryan to FDR 1989, Knof A

Ancient and Medieval : Reading List

B.A. History (Hons): Course 2: ‘Social Formations and Cultural Patterns of the Ancient and Medieval World’ for First Year

S. No. Author Book Title Publication Priority Level Remarks
2.1. Perry Anderson
Passages from Antiquity to Feudalism. Verso, 1996 A
2.2. J. D.Bernal. Science in History, Vol I. Penguin, 1969 B
2.3. Marc Bloch Feudal Society, 2 Vols. Taylor & Francis, 2004 A
2.4. Burns and Ralph. World Civilisations. W.W Norton, 1984 B
2.5. V Gordon Childe. What Happened in History. Harmondsworth, 1942; Penguin, 1964 A Also available in Hindi
2.6. V. Gordon Childe. Social Evolution. Meridian Books, 1963 B
2.7. Georges Duby. The Early Growth of the European Economy. Cornell University Press, 1978 B
2.8. Glyn Daniel. First Civilizations Penguin, 1978 B
2.9. B. Fagan. People of the Earth: An Introduction World Pre-History Little Brown, Boston, 1986 A
2.10. Amar Farouqi Early Social Formations Manak Publications Pvt. Ltd, 2001 A Also Available in Hindi as Prachin aur Madhyakalin Samajik Sanrachnaen aur Sanskritiyan, Granthashilpi, New Delhi, 2003

2.11. M. I. Finley, The Ancient Economy. Penguin, 1992 A
2.12. Carlo M. Cipolla Fontana Economic History of Europe. Vol. I: The Middle Ages Barnes & Noble 1977 B
2.13. A. Hauser.
A Social History of Art. Vol. I Routledge & kegan Paul, 1968 B
2.14. Jacquetta Hawkes. First Great Civilisations. Hutchinson, 1973 B
2.15. P. K. Hitti History of the Arabs Macmillian, 1970 B
2.16. George Roux,.
Ancient Iraq Penguin, 1980 B
2.17. Bai Shouyi. An Outline History of China. Foreign Languages Press, 1993 B
2.18. B.Trigger. D. O’Corner, AB loyd (Ed.)
Ancient Egypt: A Social History Cambridge University Press, 1983 B
2.19. UNESCO UNESCO Series: History of Mankind. J P Mohen et al (eds.) Vols. 1 - III. / New ed. History of Humanity, UNESCO Publication, London Routledge1994-1996 Routledge A
2.20. R. J. Wenke. Patterns in Prehistory: Mankind First Three Million Years Oxford University Press, 1984 A
2.21. Ameer Ali,
The Spirit of Islam. Taj Publishers, 1999 B
2.22. G. Barraclough
The Medieval Papacy. Thames and Hudson Ltd. 1968 B
2.23. K. C. Chang,. The Archaeology of Ancient China Yale University Press, 1977 B
2.24. V. Gordon Childe Man Makes Himself Moonraker Press, 1981 B Also available in Hindi
2.25. M. I. Finley. The Ancient Greeks Penguin, 1971 B
2.26. M. I. Finley Ancient Slavery and Modern Ideology Penguin, 1983 A
2.27. J. Huizinga, The Waning of the Middle Ages. / Revised ed. The Autumn of
The Middle Ages. Penguin, 1965 B
2.28. M. G. S. Hodgson. The Venture of Islam. University of Chicago Press, 1977 B
2.29. Rodney Hilton, Bond Men Made Free. Routledge, 1990 B
2.30. Rodney Hilton, Transition from Feudalism to Capitalism Verso, 1976 and Aakar Books for South Asia, 2006 A
2.31. A. H. M. Jones Decline of the Ancient World Longmens, 1966 B
2.32. Joseph Needham. Science and Civilisation in China. Vol. 1 Cambridge University Press, 1962 A
2.33. A. L. Oppenheim. Ancient Mesopotamia University of Chicago Press, 1977 B
2.34. J. N. Postgate Early Mesopotamia. Routledge, 1992 A
2.35. John Boardman et al. (eds) Oxford History of the Classical World OUP, 1986 A
2.36. Antony Andrews Greek Society Harmondsworth, 1992 A
2.37. E M Wood Peasant-Citizens and Slave: The Foundation of Athenian Democracy London: Verso, 1988 B
2.38. P. A. Brunt Social Conflicts in the Roman Republic London: Chatto and Windus, 1971 A
2.39. Richard Leaky The Making of Mankind Penguin, 1981 B
2.40. J. N. Postgate Early Mesopotamia. Routledge, 1992 A
2.41. George Duby The Three Orders: Feudal Society Imagined Chicago: The University Press, 1980 A
2.42. M I Finley Economy and Society in Ancient Grece Penguin, 1980 B
2.43. T H Aston and CHE Philipin (eds.) Brenner Debate: Agrarian Class Structure and Economic Development in Pre Industrial Europe Cambridge, 1987 B
2.44. J N Postgate Early Mesopotamia: Society and Economy at the Dawn of History London: Routledge, 1992 A
2.45. Graham Clark World Prehistory in New Perspective Cambridge: CUP, 1977 B
2.46. P. M. Holt et al (eds) The Cambridge History of Islam, Vol. I: The Central Islamic Lands Cambridge, 1970. A
2.47. Patricia Crone The Meccan Trade and the Rise of Islam Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1988 A

Chronology of the 1850's Sectional Struggle

CHRONOLOGY
1846 Wilmot Proviso fuses question of slavery's expansion with consequences of Mexican War. Walker tariff, adopted for revenue only, eliminates principle of protection.
1848 Gold discovered on American River in California. Van Buren, running for president on Free-Soil ticket, receives 10 percent of popular vote. Zachary Taylor elected president.
1850 In Congress, violent sectional debate culminates in Compromise of 1850. Fugitive Slave Law requires federal agents to recover escaped slaves from sanctuaries in the North. Taylor's death makes Millard Fillmore president.
1851 Herman Melville's Moby Dick.
1852 Franklin Pierce elected president. Harriet Beecher Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin.
1853 Upsurge of political nativism, the Know-Nothings.
1854 Spectacular Know-Nothing election victories. Collapse of Whigs.
1854 New Republican party emerges. Commodore Perry opens Japan to American trade. Kansas-Nebraska Act rekindles sectional controversy over slavery.
1856 John Brown's murderous raid at Pottawatomie Creek. James Buchanan elected president.
1857 Dred Scott decision. In Kansas, proslavery Lecompton constitution ratified as free-state men refuse to vote.
1858 Lincoln-Douglas debates.
1859 John Brown's raid on Harpers Ferry.
1860 Democratic party deadlocked at Charleston convention finally divides along sectional lines at Baltimore. Abraham Lincoln elected president. South Carolina secedes from the Union.
1861 Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, and Texas secede.
(Bernard Bailyn, The Great Republic Page 461)

Ancient and Medieval Societies: Course Outline

Delhi University
BA (Hon) History Course No II

SOCIAL FORMATIONS AND CULTURAL PATTERNS OF THE ANCIENT AND MEDIEVAL WORLD
NOTE : Students shall be expected to answer four questions, selecting AT LEAST ONE FROM EACH UNIT

UNIT : I
I. Evolution of humankind; Palaeolithic and Mesolithic cultures. E Food production : beginnings of agriculture and animal husbandry, in. Bronze Age Civilizations:
[a] Economy. [b] social stratification. [c] religion and [d] state structure.
{Either (i) EGYPT (Old Kingdom) OR MESOPOTAMIA (up to the Akkadian Empire)
AND (ii) either CHINA (Shang) OR EASTERN MEDITERRANEAN (Minoan)}
IV Nomadic groups in Central and West Asia
UNIT: II
V The advent of iron and its implications
VI. Slave societies in ancient Greece and Rome: agrarian economy,
urbanisation and trade.
VII. Political apparatus: Athenian democracy and Roman Republic; Roman
Empire; Greek and Roman cultures.
VEL Crises of Roman Empire.
UNIT: III
IX. Subsistence economy to feudal dynamism in Europe from (the 7th to
the 15th centuries : organisation of production, towns and trade,
technological developments. Crisis of feudalism.
X. Religion and culture in medieval Europe :
[a] Rise of Papacy, [b] monastic revival and [c] arts and patronage.
XI. Societies in Central Islamic Lands:
[a] The tribal background, ummah. Caliphal state; rise of Sultanates
[b] Religious developments: the origins of Shariah, Milma, Sufism,
[cj Urbanisation and trade [d] architecture.
XII. Scientific and technological developments either in Islamic societies
or Medieval China.

History of the USA c.1776-1945) Course Outline

Delhi University
BA (Hon) History Course No V(a)
HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA (c.1776-1945)
NOTE : Students shall be expected to answer four questions, Selecting
AT LEAST ONE QUESTION FROM EACH UNIT.
UNIT: I
L The Background:
The land and indigenous people; settlement and colonisation by Europeans; early colonial society and politics: indentured labour — White and Black.
II. Making of the Republic:
[a] Revolution Sources of conflict: Revolutionary groups. Ideology: The War of
Independence and its historical interpretations. [b\ Processes, and Features of Constitution making : Debates : Historical
interpretations.
III. Evolution of American Democracy:
[a] Federalists : Jeffersonianisin : Jaeksonianism. Rise of political parties 1840 to 1860 ; Judiciary — role of the Supreme Court.
17

|b| Expansion of Frontier; Turner's Thesis: Marginalization.Displacement and decimation of native Americans: Case histories of: Tecumseh : Shawnee Prophet.
Id Limits of democracy . Blacks and women .
IV. Early Capitalism:
|a| Beginnings of industrialisation .
|b] Immigrants and changing composition of Labour: Early Labour Movements.
UNIT : II
V. The Agrarian South:
[a] Plantation economy, [b] Slave Society and Culture: Slave resistance.
VL Ante Bellum Foreign Policy:
War of 1812: Monroe Doctrine: Manifest Destiny.
VII. Civil War:
[a] Abolitionism and Sectionalism, [b] Issues and interpretations, and [c] Rise of Republicanism. Emancipation and Lincoln.
VIII. Reconstructions: Political changes and agrarian transformation :
[a] Conservative and Radical phases.
[b] The New South: Participants and Reactions - Carpet Baggers:
Scalawags. Blacks. Ku KIux Klan.
UNIT : III
IX. Industrial America:
[a] Growth of Capitalism and Big Business, [bj Business cycles; Depression.
X. Resistance and Reform:
|aj Labour movements and Unionization.
[b| Agrarian crises and populism. Urban corruption and progressivism.
[c] New Deal.
XI. U. S. Imperialism:
(a) Spanish-American War; (b) Expansion in the Far East and Latin America; (c) World War I and Fourteen Points: (d) Isolationism; (e) Americans in World War II. Bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
18

XII. Afro-American Movements: Black Movements: Booker T. Washington,W.E.B. Dubois; NAACP and Marcus Gnrvey.
XIII. Women's Movements:
[a| Rise of [he Lowell Factor) System |b| Abolitionists and Women' s rights movement [c| Suffrage |d| Afro-American women.
XIV. Religious, Cultural and Intellectual Trends.
la] Religious movements; Early Revivalism; Puritans; Quakers; Mormons; Temperance.
[b] Mass culture (circa 1900 - 1945).
[c] Major literary trends (circa 1900-1945).

Political Map of the US Free Vs. Slave States 1850s

Uncle Tom's Cabin Chapter XXX

Uncle Tom's Cabin
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Boston: John P. Jewett, 1852

CHAPTER XXX.

THE SLAVE WAREHOUSE.

A SLAVE warehouse! Perhaps some of my readers conjure up horrible visions of such a place. They fancy some foul, obscure den, some horrible Tartarus "informis, ingens, cui lumen ademptum." But no, innocent friend; in these days men have learned the art of sinning expertly and genteelly, so as not to shock the eyes and senses of respectable society. Human property is high in the market; and is, therefore, well fed, well cleaned, tended, and looked after, that it may come to sale sleek, and strong, and shining. A slave-warehouse in New Orleans is a house externally not much unlike many others, kept with neatness; and where every day you may see arranged, under a sort of shed along the outside, rows of men and women, who stand there as a sign of the property sold within.

Then you shall be courteously entreated to call and examine, and shall find an abundance of husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, and young children, to be "sold separately, or in lots to suit the convenience of the purchaser;" and that soul immortal, once bought with blood and anguish by the Son of God, when the earth shook, and the rocks rent, and the graves were opened, can be sold, leased, mortgaged, exchanged for groceries or dry goods, to suit the phases of trade, or the fancy of the purchaser.

It was a day or two after the conversation between Marie and Miss Ophelia, that Tom, Adolph, and about half a dozen others of the St. Clare estate, were turned over to the loving


155

kindness of Mr. Skeggs, the keeper of a depot on —— street, to await the auction, next day.
Tom had with him quite a sizable trunk full of clothing, as had most others of them. They were ushered, for the night, into a long room, where many other men, of all ages, sizes, and shades of complexion, were assembled, and from which roars of laughter and unthinking merriment were proceeding.

"Ah, ha! that's right. Go it, boys,—go it!" said Mr. Skeggs, the keeper. "My people are always so merry! Sambo, I see!" he said, speaking approvingly to a burly negro who was performing tricks of low buffoonery, which occasioned the shouts which Tom had heard.

As might be imagined, Tom was in no humor to join these proceedings; and, therefore, setting his trunk as far as possible from the noisy group, he sat down on it, and leaned his face against the wall.

The dealers in the human article make scrupulous and systematic efforts to promote noisy mirth among them, as a means of drowning reflection, and rendering them insensible to their condition. The whole object of the training to which the negro is put, from the time he is sold in the northern market till he arrives south, is systematically directed towards making him callous, unthinking, and brutal. The slave-dealer collects his gang in Virginia or Kentucky, and drives them to some convenient, healthy place,—often a watering place,—to be fattened. Here they are fed full daily; and, because some incline to pine, a fiddle is kept commonly going among them, and they are made to dance daily; and he who refuses to be merry—in whose soul thoughts of wife, or child, or home, are too strong for him to be gay—is marked as sullen and dangerous, and subjected to all the evils which the ill will of an utterly irresponsible and hardened man can


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inflict upon him. Briskness, alertness, and cheerfulness of appearance, especially before observers, are constantly enforced upon them, both by the hope of thereby getting a good master, and the fear of all that the driver may bring upon them if they prove unsalable.
"What dat ar nigger doin here?" said Sambo, coming up to Tom, after Mr. Skeggs had left the room. Sambo was a full black, of great size, very lively, voluble, and full of trick and grimace.

"What you doin here?" said Sambo, coming up to Tom, and poking him facetiously in the side. "Meditatin', eh?"

"I am to be sold at the auction, to-morrow!" said Tom, quietly.

"Sold at auction,—haw! haw! boys, an't this yer fun? I wish't I was gwine that ar way!—tell ye, wouldn't I make em laugh? But how is it,—dis yer whole lot gwine to-morrow?" said Sambo, laying his hand freely on Adolph's shoulder.

"Please to let me alone!" said Adolph, fiercely, straightening himself up, with extreme disgust.

"Law, now, boys! dis yer's one o' yer white niggers,—kind o' cream color, ye know, scented!" said he, coming up to Adolph and snuffing. "O Lor! he'd do for a tobaccer-shop; they could keep him to scent snuff! Lor, he'd keep a whole shop agwine,—he would!"

"I say, keep off, can't you?" said Adolph, enraged.

"Lor, now, how touchy we is,—we white niggers! Look at us now!" and Sambo gave a ludicrous imitation of Adolph's manner; "here's de airs and graces. We's been in a good family, I specs."

"Yes," said Adolph; "I had a master that could have bought you all for old truck!"

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"Laws, now, only think," said Sambo, "the gentlemens that we is!"

"I belonged to the St. Clare family," said Adolph, proudly.

"Lor, you did! Be hanged if they ar'n't lucky to get shet of ye. Spects they's gwine to trade ye off with a lot o' cracked tea-pots and sich like!" said Sambo, with a provoking grin.

Adolph, enraged at this taunt, flew furiously at his adversary, swearing and striking on every side of him. The rest laughed and shouted, and the uproar brought the keeper to the door.

"What now, boys? Order,—order!" he said, coming in and flourishing a large whip.

All fled in different directions, except Sambo, who, presuming on the favor which the keeper had to him as a licensed wag, stood his ground, ducking his head with a facetious grin, whenever the master made a dive at him.

"Lor, Mas'r, 'tan't us,—we 's reglar stiddy,—it's these yer new hands; they 's real aggravatin',—kinder pickin' at us, all time!"

The keeper, at this, turned upon Tom and Adolph, and distributing a few kicks and cuffs without much inquiry, and leaving general orders for all to be good boys and go to sleep, left the apartment.

While this scene was going on in the men's sleeping-room, the reader may be curious to take a peep at the corresponding apartment allotted to the women. Stretched out in various attitudes over the floor, he may see numberless sleeping forms of every shade of complexion, from the purest ebony to white, and of all years, from childhood to old age, lying now asleep. Here is a fine bright girl, of ten years, whose mother was sold


158

out yesterday, and who to-night cried herself to sleep when nobody was looking at her. Here, a worn old negress, whose thin arms and callous fingers tell of hard toil, waiting to be sold to-morrow, as a cast-off article, for what can be got for her; and some forty or fifty others, with heads variously enveloped in blankets or articles of clothing, lie stretched around them. But, in a corner, sitting apart from the rest, are two females of a more interesting appearance than common. One of these is a respectably-dressed mulatto woman between forty and fifty, with soft eyes and a gentle and pleasing physiognomy. She has on her head a high-raised turban, made of a gay red Madras handkerchief, of the first quality, and her dress is neatly fitted, and of good material, showing that she has been provided for with a careful hand. By her side, and nestling closely to her, is a young girl of fifteen,—her daughter. She is a quadroon, as may be seen from her fairer complexion, though her likeness to her mother is quite discernible. She has the same soft, dark eye, with longer lashes, and her curling hair is of a luxuriant brown. She also is dressed with great neatness, and her white, delicate hands betray very little acquaintance with servile toil. These two are to be sold to-morrow, in the same lot with the St. Clare servants; and the gentleman to whom they belong, and to whom the money for their sale is to be transmitted, is a member of a Christian church in New York, who will receive the money, and go thereafter to the sacrament of his Lord and theirs, and think no more of it.
These two, whom we shall call Susan and Emmeline, had been the personal attendants of an amiable and pious lady of New Orleans, by whom they had been carefully and piously instructed and trained. They had been taught to read and write, diligently instructed in the truths of religion, and their


159

lot had been as happy an one as in their condition it was possible to be. But the only son of their protectress had the management of her property; and, by carelessness and extravagance involved it to a large amount, and at last failed. One of the largest creditors was the respectable firm of B. & Co., in New York. B. & Co. wrote to their lawyer in New Orleans, who attached the real estate (these two articles and a lot of plantation hands formed the most valuable part of it), and wrote word to that effect to New York. Brother B., being, as we have said, a Christian man, and a resident in a free State, felt some uneasiness on the subject. He didn't like trading in slaves and souls of men,—of course, he didn't; but, then, there were thirty thousand dollars in the case, and that was rather too much money to be lost for a principle; and so, after much considering, and asking advice from those that he knew would advise to suit him, Brother B. wrote to his lawyer to dispose of the business in the way that seemed to him the most suitable, and remit the proceeds.
The day after the letter arrived in New Orleans, Susan and Emmeline were attached, and sent to the depot to await a general auction on the following morning; and as they glimmer faintly upon us in the moonlight which steals through the grated window, we may listen to their conversation. Both are weeping, but each quietly, that the other may not hear.

"Mother, just lay your head on my lap, and see if you can't sleep a little," says the girl, trying to appear calm.

"I haven't any heart to sleep, Em; I can't; it's the last night we may be together!"

"O, mother, don't say so! perhaps we shall get sold together,—who knows?"

"If 't was anybody's else case, I should say so, too, Em,"


160

said the woman; "but I'm so feard of losin' you that I don't see anything but the danger."
"Why, mother, the man said we were both likely, and would sell well."

Susan remembered the man's looks and words. With a deadly sickness at her heart, she remembered how he had looked at Emmeline's hands, and lifted up her curly hair, and pronounced her a first-rate article. Susan had been trained as a Christian, brought up in the daily reading of the Bible, and had the same horror of her child's being sold to a life of shame that any other Christian mother might have; but she had no hope,—no protection.

"Mother, I think we might do first rate, if you could get a place as cook, and I as chamber-maid or seamstress, in some family. I dare say we shall. Let's both look as bright and lively as we can, and tell all we can do, and perhaps we shall," said Emmeline.

"I want you to brush your hair all back straight, to-morrow," said Susan.

"What for, mother? I don't look near so well, that way."

"Yes, but you'll sell better so."

"I don't see why!" said the child.

"Respectable families would be more apt to buy you, if they saw you looked plain and decent, as if you wasn't trying to look handsome. I know their ways better 'n you do," said Susan.

"Well, mother, then I will."

"And, Emmeline, if we shouldn't ever see each other again, after to-morrow,—if I'm sold way up on a plantation somewhere, and you somewhere else,—always remember how you've been brought up, and all Missis has told you; take


161

your Bible with you, and your hymn-book; and if you're faithful to the Lord, he'll be faithful to you."
So speaks the poor soul, in sore discouragement; for she knows that to-morrow any man, however vile and brutal, however godless and merciless, if he only has money to pay for her, may become owner of her daughter, body and soul; and then, how is the child to be faithful? She thinks of all this, as she holds her daughter in her arms, and wishes that she were not handsome and attractive. It seems almost an aggravation to her to remember how purely and piously, how much above the ordinary lot, she has been brought up. But she has no resort but to pray; and many such prayers to God have gone up from those same trim, neatly-arranged, respectable slave-prisons,—prayers which God has not forgotten, as a coming day shall show; for it is written, "Who causeth one of these little ones to offend, it were better for him that a mill-stone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depths of the sea."

The soft, earnest, quiet moonbeam looks in fixedly, marking the bars of the grated windows on the prostrate, sleeping forms. The mother and daughter are singing together a wild and melancholy dirge, common as a funeral hymn among the slaves:

"O, where is weeping Mary?
O, where is weeping Mary?
'Rived in the goodly land.
She is dead and gone to Heaven;
She is dead and gone to Heaven;
'Rived in the goodly land."
These words, sung by voices of a peculiar and melancholy sweetness, in an air which seemed like the sighing of earthly despair after heavenly hope, floated through the dark prison


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rooms with a pathetic cadence, as verse after verse was breathed out:
"O, where are Paul and Silas?
O, where are Paul and Silas?
Gone to the goodly land.
They are dead and gone to Heaven;
They are dead and gone to Heaven;
'Rived in the goodly land."
Sing on, poor souls! The night is short, and the morning will part you forever!

But now it is morning, and everybody is astir; and the worthy Mr. Skeggs is busy and bright, for a lot of goods is to be fitted out for auction. There is a brisk look-out on the toilet; injunctions passed around to every one to put on their best face and be spry; and now all are arranged in a circle for a last review, before they are marched up to the Bourse.

Mr. Skeggs, with his palmetto on and his cigar in his mouth, walks around to put farewell touches on his wares.

"How's this?" he said, stepping in front of Susan and Emmeline. "Where's your curls, gal?"

The girl looked timidly at her mother, who, with the smooth adroitness common among her class, answers,

"I was telling her, last night, to put up her hair smooth and neat, and not havin' it flying about in curls; looks more respectable so."

"Bother!" said the man, peremptorily, turning to the girl; "you go right along, and curl yourself real smart!" He added, giving a crack to a rattan he held in his hand, "And be back in quick time, too!"

"You go and help her," he added, to the mother. "Them curls may make a hundred dollars difference in the sale of her."

* * * * * * *

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Beneath a splendid dome were men of all nations, moving to and fro, over the marble pave. On every side of the circular area were little tribunes, or stations, for the use of speakers and auctioneers. Two of these, on opposite sides of the area, were now occupied by brilliant and talented gentlemen, enthusiastically forcing up, in English and French commingled, the bids of connoisseurs in their various wares. A third one, on the other side, still unoccupied, was surrounded by a group, waiting the moment of sale to begin. And here we may recognize the St. Clare servants,—Tom, Adolph, and others; and there, too, Susan and Emmeline, awaiting their turn with anxious and dejected faces. Various spectators, intending to purchase, or not intending, as the case might be, gathered around the group, handling, examining, and commenting on their various points and faces with the same freedom that a set of jockeys discuss the merits of a horse.

"Hulloa, Alf! what brings you here?" said a young exquisite, slapping the shoulder of a sprucely-dressed young man, who was examining Adolph through an eye-glass.

"Well! I was wanting a valet, and I heard that St. Clare's lot was going. I thought I'd just look at his—"

"Catch me ever buying any of St. Clare's people! Spoilt niggers, every one. Impudent as the devil!" said the other.

"Never fear that!" said the first. "If I get 'em, I'll soon have their airs out of them; they'll soon find that they've another kind of master to deal with than Monsieur St. Clare. 'Pon my word, I'll buy that fellow. I like the shape of him."

"You'll find it'll take all you've got to keep him. He's deucedly extravagant!"

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"Yes, but my lord will find that he can't be extravagant with me. Just let him be sent to the calaboose a few times, and thoroughly dressed down! I'll tell you if it don't bring him to a sense of his ways! O, I'll reform him, up hill and down,—you'll see. I buy him, that's flat!"

Tom had been standing wistfully examining the multitude of faces thronging around him, for one whom he would wish to call master. And if you should ever be under the necessity, sir, of selecting, out of two hundred men, one who was to become your absolute owner and disposer, you would, perhaps, realize, just as Tom did, how few there were that you would feel at all comfortable in being made over to. Tom saw abundance of men,—great, burly, gruff men; little, chirping, dried men; long-favored, lank, hard men; and every variety of stubbed-looking, commonplace men, who pick up their fellow-men as one picks up chips, putting them into the fire or a basket with equal unconcern, according to their convenience; but he saw no St. Clare.

A little before the sale commenced, a short, broad, muscular man, in a checked shirt considerably open at the bosom, and pantaloons much the worse for dirt and wear, elbowed his way through the crowd, like one who is going actively into a business; and, coming up to the group, began to examine them systematically. From the moment that Tom saw him approaching, he felt an immediate and revolting horror at him, that increased as he came near. He was evidently, though short, of gigantic strength. His round, bullet head, large, light-gray eyes, with their shaggy, sandy eye-brows, and stiff, wiry, sun-burned hair, were rather unprepossessing items, it is to be confessed; his large, coarse mouth was distended with tobacco, the juice of which, from time to time, he ejected from him with great decision and


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explosive force; his hands were immensely large, hairy, sun-burned, freckled, and very dirty, and garnished with long nails, in a very foul condition. This man proceeded to a very free personal examination of the lot. He seized Tom by the jaw, and pulled open his mouth to inspect his teeth; made him strip up his sleeve, to show his muscle; turned him round, made him jump and spring, to show his paces.
"Where was you raised?" he added, briefly, to these investigations.

"In Kintuck, Mas'r," said Tom, looking about, as if for deliverance.

"What have you done?"

"Had care of Mas'r's farm," said Tom.

"Likely story!" said the other, shortly, as he passed on. He paused a moment before Dolph; then spitting a discharge of tobacco-juice on his well-blacked boots, and giving a contemptuous umph, he walked on. Again he stopped before Susan and Emmeline. He put out his heavy, dirty hand, and drew the girl towards him; passed it over her neck and bust, felt her arms, looked at her teeth, and then pushed her back against her mother, whose patient face showed the suffering she had been going through at every motion of the hideous stranger.

The girl was frightened, and began to cry.

"Stop that, you minx!" said the salesman; "no whimpering here,—the sale is going to begin." And accordingly the sale begun.

Adolph was knocked off, at a good sum, to the young gentlemen who had previously stated his intention of buying him; and the other servants of the St. Clare lot went to various bidders.

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"Now, up with you, boy! d'ye hear?" said the auctioneer to Tom.

Tom stepped upon the block, gave a few anxious looks round; all seemed mingled in a common, indistinct noise,—the clatter of the salesman crying off his qualifications in French and English, the quick fire of French and English bids; and almost in a moment came the final thump of the hammer, and the clear ring on the last syllable of the word "dollars," as the auctioneer announced his price, and Tom was made over.—He had a master!

He was pushed from the block;—the short, bullet-headed man seizing him roughly by the shoulder, pushed him to one side, saying, in a harsh voice, "Stand there, you!"

Tom hardly realized anything; but still the bidding went on,—rattling, clattering, now French, now English. Down goes the hammer again,—Susan is sold! She goes down from the block, stops, looks wistfully back,—her daughter stretches her hands towards her. She looks with agony in the face of the man who has bought her,—a respectable middle-aged man, of benevolent countenance.

"O, Mas'r, please do buy my daughter!"

"I'd like to, but I'm afraid I can't afford it!" said the gentleman, looking, with painful interest, as the young girl mounted the block, and looked around her with a frightened and timid glance.

The blood flushes painfully in her otherwise colorless cheek, her eye has a feverish fire, and her mother groans to see that she looks more beautiful than she ever saw her before. The auctioneer sees his advantage, and expatiates volubly in mingled French and English, and bids rise in rapid succession.

"I'll do anything in reason," said the benevolent-looking


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gentleman, pressing in and joining with the bids. In a few moments they have run beyond his purse. He is silent; the auctioneer grows warmer; but bids gradually drop off. It lies now between an aristocratic old citizen and our bullet-headed acquaintance. The citizen bids for a few turns, contemptuously measuring his opponent; but the bullet-head has the advantage over him, both in obstinacy and concealed length of purse, and the controversy lasts but a moment; the hammer falls,—he has got the girl, body and soul, unless God help her!
Her master is Mr. Legree, who owns a cotton plantation on the Red river. She is pushed along into the same lot with Tom and two other men, and goes off, weeping as she goes.

The benevolent gentleman is sorry; but, then, the thing happens every day! One sees girls and mothers crying, at these sales, always! it can't be helped, &c.; and he walks off, with his acquisition, in another direction.

Two days after, the lawyer of the Christian firm of B. & Co., New York, sent on their money to them. On the reverse of that draft, so obtained, let them write these words of the great Paymaster, to whom they shall make up their account in a future day: "When he maketh inquisition for blood, he forgetteth not the cry of the humble!"

Uncle Tom's Cabin Chapter X

Uncle Tom's Cabin
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Boston: John P. Jewett, 1852

CHAPTER X.

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 an ironing-cloth; a coarse but clean shirt or two, 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 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 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


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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 sat down to the table, and "lifted up her voice and wept."
"S'pose we must be resigned; but oh Lord! how ken I? If I know'd anything whar you 's goin', or how they'd sarve you! Missis says she'll try and 'deem ye, in a year or two; but Lor! nobody never comes up that goes down thar! They kills 'em! I've hearn 'em tell how dey works 'em up on dem ar plantations."

"There'll be the same God there, Chloe, that there is here."

"Well," said Aunt Chloe, "s'pose dere will; but de Lord lets drefful things happen, sometimes. I don't seem to get no comfort dat way."

"I'm in the Lord's hands," said Tom; "nothin' can go no furder than he lets it;—and thar's one thing I can thank him for. It's me that's sold and going down, and not you nur the chil'en. Here you're safe;—what comes will come only on me; and the 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 choking in his throat,—but he spoke brave and strong.

"Let's think on our marcies!" he added, tremulously, as if he was quite sure he needed to think on them very hard indeed.

"Marcies!" said Aunt Chloe; "don't see no marcy in 't! 'tan't right! tan't right it should be so! Mas'r never ought ter left it so that ye could be took for his debts. Ye've arnt him all he gets for ye, twice over. He owed ye yer freedom,


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and ought ter gin 't to yer years ago. Mebbe he can't help himself now, but I feel it's wrong. Nothing can't beat that ar out o' me. Sich a faithful crittur as ye've been,—and allers sot his business 'fore yer own every way,—and reckoned on him more than yer own wife and chil'en! Them as sells heart's love and heart's blood, to get out thar scrapes, de Lord'll be up to 'em!"
"Chloe! now, if ye love me, ye won't talk so, when perhaps jest the last time we'll ever have together! And I'll tell ye, Chloe, it goes agin me to hear one word agin Mas'r. Wan't he put in my arms a baby?—it's natur I should think a heap of him. And he couldn't be spected to think so much of poor Tom. Mas'rs is used to havin' all these yer things done for 'em, and nat'lly they don't think so much on 't. They can't be spected to, no way. Set him 'longside of other Mas'rs—who's had the treatment and livin' I've had? And he never would have let this yer come on me, if he could have seed it aforehand. I know he wouldn't."

"Wal, any way, thar's wrong about it somewhar," said Aunt Chloe, in whom a stubborn sense of justice was a predominant trait; "I can't jest make out whar 't is, but thar's wrong somewhar, I'm clar o' that."

"Yer ought ter look up to the Lord above—he's above all—thar don't a sparrow fall without him."

"It don't seem to comfort me, but I spect it orter," said Aunt Chloe. "But dar's no use talkin'; I'll jes wet up de corn-cake, and get ye one good breakfast, 'cause nobody knows when you'll get another."

In order to 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 attach-


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ments are very abiding. They are not naturally daring and enterprising, but home-loving and affectionate. Add to this all the terrors with which ignorance invests 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 which they will sit in their gossipping hours, and tell frightful stories of that "down river," which to them is
“That undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns.”
A missionary among the fugitives in Canada told us that many of the fugitives confessed 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. 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 Mrs. Shelby had excused Aunt Chloe's attendance at 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 mantel-piece,


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some preserves that were never produced except on extreme occasions.
"Lor, Pete," said Mose, triumphantly, "han't we got a buster of a breakfast!" at the same time catching at a fragment of the chicken.

Aunt Chloe gave him a sudden box on the ear. "Thar now! crowing over the last breakfast yer poor daddy's gwine to have to home!"

"O, Chloe!" said Tom, gently.

"Wal, I can't help it," said Aunt Chloe, hiding her face in her apron; "I 's so tossed about, it makes me act 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 something. This yer's my nicest chicken. Thar, boys, ye shall have some, poor critturs! Yer mammy's been cross to yer."

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 about after breakfast, "I must put up yer clothes. Jest like as not, he'll take 'em all away. I know thar ways—mean as dirt, they is! Wal, now, yer flannels for rhumatis is in this corner; so be careful, 'cause there won't nobody make ye no more. Then here's yer old shirts, and these yer is new ones. I toed off these yer stockings last night, and put de ball in 'em to mend with. But Lor! who'll ever mend for ye?" and Aunt Chloe, again overcome, laid her head on the box side, and


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sobbed. "To think on 't! no crittur to do for ye, sick or well! I don't railly think I ought ter be good now!"
The boys, having eaten everything there was on the breakfast-table, began now to take some thought of the case; and, seeing their mother crying, and their father looking very sad, began to whimper and put their hands 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.

"Ay, crow away, poor crittur!" said Aunt Chloe; "ye'll have to come to it, too! ye'll live to see yer husband sold, or mebbe be sold yerself; and these yer boys, they's to be sold, I s'pose, too, jest like as not, when dey gets good for somethin'; an't no use in niggers havin' nothin'!"

Here one of the boys called out, "Thar's Missis acomin' in!"

"She can't do no good; what's she coming for?" said Aunt Chloe.

Mrs. 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 in the chair, and, covering her face with her handkerchief, began to sob.

"Lor, now, Missis, 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. O, ye who visit the distressed,


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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 Mrs. Shelby, "I can't give you anything to do you any good. If I give you money, 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;—and, till then, trust in God!"

Here the boys called out that Mas'r Haley was coming, and then an unceremonious kick pushed open the door. Haley stood 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 nigger, ye'r ready? Servant, ma'am!" said he, taking off his hat, as he saw Mrs. Shelby.

Aunt Chloe shut and corded the box, and, getting up, looked gruffly on the trader, her tears seeming suddenly turned 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.

Mrs. Shelby, walking up to the trader, detained him for a few moments, talking with 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 much honest sympathy and grief about him, particularly among the women.

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"Why, Chloe, you bar 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 'fore dat ar old limb, no how!"

"Get in!" said 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 Mrs. Shelby spoke from the verandah,—

"Mr. Haley, I assure you that precaution is entirely unnecessary."

"Don' know, ma'am; I've lost one five hundred dollars from this yer place, and I can't afford to 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 groaning vehemently.

"I'm sorry," said Tom, "that Mas'r George happened to be away."

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 Mas'r George," he said, earnestly.

Haley whipped up the horse, and, with a steady, mournful look, fixed to the last on the old place, Tom was whirled away.

Mr. Shelby at this time was not at home. He had sold


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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 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 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 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 yer 's a little too small for his build," said Haley, showing the fetters, and pointing out to Tom.

"Lor! now, if thar an't Shelby's Tom. He han't sold him, now?" said the smith.

"Yes, he has," said Haley.

"Now, ye don't! well, reely," said the smith, "who'd a thought it! Why, ye needn't go to fetterin' him up this yer way. He's the faithfullest, best crittur—"

"Yes, yes," said Haley; "but your good fellers are just the critturs to want ter run off. Them stupid ones, as doesn't care whar they go, and shifless, drunken ones, as don't care for nothin', they'll stick by, and like as not be rather pleased to be toted round; but these yer prime fellers, they hates it


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like sin. No way but to fetter 'em; got legs,—they'll use 'em,—no mistake."
"Well," said the smith, feeling among his tools, "them plantations down thar, stranger, an't jest the place a Kentuck nigger wants to go to; they dies thar tol'able fast, don't they?"

"Wal, yes, tol'able fast, ther dying is; what with the 'climating and one thing and another, they dies so as to keep the market up pretty brisk," said Haley.

"Wal, now, a feller can't help thinkin' it's a mighty pity to have a nice, quiet, likely feller, as good un as Tom is, go down to be fairly ground up on one of them ar sugar plantations."

"Wal, he's got a fa'r chance. I promised 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 'climating, he'll have a berth good as any nigger ought ter ask for."

"He leaves his wife and chil'en up here, s'pose?"

"Yes; but he'll get another thar. Lord, thar's women enough everywhar," 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 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 'em! It's a nasty, mean shame! If I was a man, they shouldn't do it,—they should not, so!" said George, with a kind of subdued howl.

"O! Mas'r George! this does me good!" said Tom. "I


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couldn't bar to go off without seein' ye! It does me real good, ye 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, Mas'r 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 only to think of it—isn't it a shame? They never sent for me, nor sent me any word, and, if it hadn't been for Tom Lincon, I shouldn't have heard it. I tell you, I blew 'em up well, all of 'em, at home!"

"That ar wasn't right, I'm 'feard, Mas'r George."

"Can't help it! I say it's a shame! Look here, Uncle Tom," said he, turning his back to the shop, and speaking in a mysterious tone, "I've brought you my dollar!"

"O! I couldn't think o' takin' on 't, Mas'r George, no ways in the world!" said Tom, quite moved.

"But you shall take it!" said George; "look here—I told Aunt Chloe I'd do it, and she advised me just to make a hole in it, and put a string through, so you could hang it round your neck, and keep it out of sight; else this mean scamp would take it away. I tell ye, Tom, I want to blow him up! it would do me good!"

"No, don't Mas'r 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 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."

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"O! Mas'r George, ye mustn't talk so 'bout yer father!"

"Lor, Uncle Tom, I don't mean anything bad."

"And now, Mas'r George," said Tom, "ye must be a good boy; 'member how many hearts is sot on ye. Al'ays keep close to yer mother. Don't be gettin' into any of them foolish ways boys has of gettin' too big to mind their mothers. Tell ye what, Mas'r George, the Lord gives good many things twice over; but he don't give ye a mother but once. Ye'll never see sich another woman, Mas'r George, if ye live to be a hundred years old. So, now, you hold on to her, and grow up, and be a comfort to her, thar's my own good boy,—you will now, won't ye?"

"Yes, I will, Uncle Tom," said George, seriously.

"And be careful of yer speaking, Mas'r George. Young boys, when they comes to your age, is wilful, sometimes—it's natur they should be. But real gentlemen, such as I hopes you'll be, never lets fall no words that isn't 'spectful to thar parents. Ye an't 'fended, Mas'r George?"

"No, indeed, Uncle Tom; you always did give me good advice."

"I's older, ye 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. O, Mas'r George, you has everything,—l'arnin', privileges, readin', writin',—and you'll grow up to be a great, learned, good man and all the people on the place and your mother and father'll be so proud on ye! Be a good Mas'r, like yer father; and be a Christian, like yer mother. 'Member yer Creator in the days o' yer youth, Mas'r George."

"I'll be real good, Uncle Tom, I tell you," said George. "I'm going to be a first-rater; and don't you be discouraged. I'll have you back to the place, yet. As I told Aunt


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Chloe this morning, I'll build your house all over, and you shall have a room for a parlor with a carpet on it, when I'm a man. O, you'll have good times yet!"
Haley now came to the door, with the handcuffs in his hands.

"Look here, now, Mister," 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 as good as they is," said Haley; "'tan't any meaner sellin' on 'em, than 't is 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, good-by, Uncle Tom; keep a stiff upper lip," said George.

"Good-by, Mas'r George," said Tom, looking fondly and admiringly at him. "God Almighty bless you! Ah! Kentucky han't got many like you!" he said, in the fulness 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 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 ye what, Tom," said Haley, as he came up


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to the wagon, and threw in the hand-cuffs, "I mean to start fa'r with ye, as I gen'ally do with my niggers; and I'll tell ye now, to begin with, you treat me fa'r, and I'll treat you fa'r; I an't never hard on my niggers. Calculates to do the best for 'em I can. Now, ye see, you'd better jest settle down comfortable, and not be tryin' no tricks; because nigger's tricks of all sorts I'm up to, and it's no use. If niggers is quiet, and don't try to get off, they has good times with me; and if they don't, why, it's thar fault, and 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 Mr. Haley had got in the habit of commencing his relations with his stock with 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.

Uncle Tom's Cabin Chapter V

Uncle Tom's Cabin
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Boston: John P. Jewett, 1852

CHAPTER V.

SHOWING THE FEELINGS OF LIVING PROPERTY ON CHANGING OWNERS.

MR. and Mrs. 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, 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 attendance 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,

"By the by, Arthur, who was that low-bred fellow that you lugged in to our dinner-table to-day?"

"Haley is his name," said Shelby, turning himself rather uneasily in his chair, and continuing with his eyes fixed on a letter.

"Haley! Who is he, and what may be his business here, pray?"

"Well, he's a man that I transacted some business with, last time I was at Natchez," said Mr. Shelby.

"And he presumed on it to make himself quite at home, and call and dine here, ay?"

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"Why, I invited him; I had some accounts with him," said Shelby.

"Is he a negro-trader?" said Mrs. Shelby, noticing a certain embarrassment in her husband's manner.

"Why, my dear, 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 a trader, and that she heard him make an offer for her boy—the ridiculous little goose!"

"She did, hey?" said Mr. Shelby, returning to his paper, which he seemed for a few moments quite intent upon, not perceiving that he was holding it bottom upwards.

"It will have to come out," said he, mentally; "as well now as ever."

"I told Eliza," said Mrs. 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 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! Mr. Shelby, you cannot be serious."

"I'm sorry to say that I am," said Mr. Shelby. "I've agreed to sell Tom."

"What! our Tom?—that good, faithful creature!—been your faithful servant from a boy! O, Mr. Shelby!—and you have promised him his freedom, too,—you and I have spoken to him a hundred times of it. Well, I can believe anything now,—I can believe now that you could


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sell little Harry, poor Eliza's only child!" said Mrs. 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."

"But why, of all others, choose these?" said Mrs. 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 Mr. Shelby.

"The wretch!" said Mrs. Shelby, vehemently.

"Well, I didn't listen to it, a moment,—out of regard to your feelings, I wouldn't;—so give me some credit."

"My dear," said Mrs. 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. I do believe, Mr. 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'm willing to bear my part of the inconvenience. O, Mr. Shelby, I have tried—tried most faithfully, as a Christian woman should—to do my duty to these poor, simple, dependent creatures. I have cared for them, instructed them, watched over them, and known 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 tear from him in a moment


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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 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 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, Emily,—indeed I am," said Mr. Shelby; "and I respect your feelings, too, though I don't pretend to share them to their full extent; but I tell 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 two and selling everything. Either they must go, or all must. Haley has come into possession of a mortgage, which, if 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 so to have them sold, would it be any better to have all sold?"

Mrs. Shelby stood like one stricken. Finally, turning to her toilet, she rested her face in her hands, and gave a sort of groan.

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"This is God's curse on slavery!—a bitter, bitter, most accursed thing!—a curse to the master and a curse to the slave! 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 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 was right—never felt willing to own slaves."

"Well, therein you differ from many wise and pious men," said Mr. Shelby. "You remember Mr. B.'s sermon, the other Sunday?"

"I don't want to hear such sermons; I never wish to hear Mr. B. in our church again. Ministers can't help the evil, perhaps,—can't cure it, any more than we can,—but defend it!—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 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."

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"O yes, yes!" said Mrs. Shelby, hurriedly and abstractedly fingering her gold watch,—"I haven't any 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 Mr. Shelby, "I'm sorry this takes hold of you so; but it will do no good. 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 cruel man, exactly, but a man of leather,—a man alive to nothing but trade and profit,—cool, and unhesitating, and unrelenting, as death and the grave. He'd sell his own mother at a good per centage—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 that this goes rather hard with me; it's a thing I hate to think of. Haley wants to drive matters, and take possession to-morrow. 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," said Mrs. 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


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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 one listener to this conversation whom Mr. and Mrs. Shelby little suspected.

Communicating with their apartment was a large closet, opening by a door into the outer passage. When Mrs. Shelby had dismissed Eliza for the night, her feverish and excited mind had suggested the idea of this closet; and she had hidden herself there, and, with her ear pressed 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. She moved cautiously along the entry, paused one moment at her mistress' 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 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 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!"

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No tear dropped over that pillow; in such straits as these, the heart has no tears to give,—it drops only blood, bleeding itself away in silence. She took a piece of paper and a pencil, and wrote, hastily,

"O, Missis! dear Missis! don't think me ungrateful,—don't think hard of me, any way,—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, she went to a drawer and made up a little package of clothing for her boy, which she tied with a handkerchief firmly round 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 gayly painted parrot to amuse him, when she should be called 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 that something unusual was the matter.

"Hush, Harry," she said; "mustn't 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, she had tied and buttoned on the child's simple outfit, and, taking him in her arms, she whispered to


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him to be very still; and, opening a door in her room which led into the outer verandah, she glided noiselessly out.
It was a sparkling, frosty, star-light night, and the mother wrapped the shawl close round her child, as, perfectly quiet 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 pet and playmate of hers, instantly, wagging his tail, prepared to follow her, though apparently revolving much, in his simple dog's head, 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 window of Uncle Tom's cottage, and Eliza, stopping, tapped lightly on the window-pane.

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 and his worthy helpmeet were not yet asleep.

"Good Lord! what's that?" said Aunt Chloe, starting up and hastily drawing the curtain. "My sakes alive, if it an't Lizy! Get on your clothes, old man, quick!—there's old Bruno, too, a pawin' round; what on airth! I'm gwine to open the door."

And suiting the action to the word, the door flew open, and the light of the tallow candle, which Tom had hastily


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lighted, fell on the haggard face and dark, wild eyes of the fugitive.
"Lord bless you!—I'm skeered to look at ye, Lizy! Are ye tuck sick, or what's come over ye?"

"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!" said Eliza, firmly; "I crept into the closet by Mistress' door to-night, and I heard Master tell Missis 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 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 have pity on us!" said Aunt Chloe. "O! it don't seem as if it was true! What has he done, that Mas'r should sell him?"

"He hasn't done anything,—it isn't for that. Master don't want to sell, and Missis she's always good. I heard her plead and beg for us; but he told her 't was 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 no choice between selling these two and selling all, the man was driving him so hard. Master said he was sorry; but oh, Missis—you ought to have heard her talk! If she an'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,


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one soul was worth more than the world; and this boy has a soul, and if I let him be carried off, who knows what'll become of it? It must be right: but, if it an't right, the Lord forgive me, for I can't help doing it!"
"Well, old man!" said Aunt Chloe, "why don't you go, too? Will you wait to be toted down river, where they kill niggers with hard work and starving? I'd a heap rather die than go there, any day! There's time for ye,—be off with Lizy,—you've got a pass to come and go any time. Come, bustle up, and I'll get your things together."

Tom slowly raised his head, and looked sorrowfully but quietly around, and said,

"No, no—I an't going. Let Eliza go—it's her right! I wouldn't be the one to say no—'tan't in natur for her to stay; but you heard what she said! If I must be sold, or all the people on the place, and everything go to rack, why, let me be sold. I s'pose I can b'ar it as well as any on 'em," he added, while something like a sob and a sigh shook his broad, rough chest convulsively. "Mas'r always found me on the spot—he always will. I never have broke trust, nor used my pass no ways 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. Mas'r an'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 woolly 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, 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


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man. And, woman, though dressed in silk and jewels, you are but a woman, and, in life's great straits and mighty griefs, ye 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, 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 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.