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Uncle Tom's Cabin: Legree

But it was not to be. The easy-going nature of St. Clare caused him to delay Tom's emancipation papers, and one night, trying to separate two drunken brawlers intent upon killing each other, St. Clare was himself stabbed to death; and in the settlement of his estate Tom once more found himself at the auction-block, to be knocked down to the highest bidder. Enter now one Simon Legree, a master of far different type from Shelby and St. Claire. A brute and a drunkard. A beast whose glance was an insult to womanhood. A fiend who prided himself upon his inflexible brutality, and with brutish satisfaction showed, to all who would look, his knuckles calloused with the blows he had inflicted upon the helpless. To him by virtue of length of purse fell Tom, who now tasted the tragic dregs of the cup of slavery. The manifest contrast between his own crass brutality and the high-minded character of his chattel aroused the envious wrath of his new owner, who endeavored by every wicked expedient possible to break Tom's spirit and his unalterable faith in divine guidance and protection. Furtively he watched him at work, hoping to find a flaw, but in vain; but one day he found the way. He ordered Tom to flog a woman-slave who was guiltless of the short-coming attributed to her, and for the first time in his career Legree was denied. Tom refused. Legree's answer was a blow upon Tom's cheek. "What?" he roared in his rage. "Ye dare tell me ye won't, ye blasted black beast?" "I'll die first," Tom replied, simply. "Well, here's a pious dog--a saint--a gentleman!" sneered Legree. "Didn't ye never read in your Bible, 'Servants obey your masters'? And ain't I your master? Didn't I pay twelve hundred dollars cash for ye, and ain't ye mine, body and soul?" "No, Marse Legree," replied Tom, through the tears and blood that coursed down his cheeks. "My soul ain't yours! It's been bought and paid for by One that is able to keep it. Ye may kill my body, but ye can't harm my soul." Now, according to the nature of his kind, Legree was superstitious, and while his hatred increased, he began to fear in the presence of his fearless possession. In Tom's presence what passed for a conscience was aroused in him. Some of the unspeakable crimes of which in his lustful gratifications, and through his murderous instincts, he had been guilty began to prey upon him. Dark things had happened in the decayed old mansion in which Legree dwelt, and in common with the ignorant blacks by whom he was surrounded Legree began to have fears, accentuated by the delirium of drink, of impending visitations by ghosts. Taking advantage of these fears, his one-time mistress, Cassie, a woman of subtle powers, herself a slave, conspired with Emmaline, an attractive mulatto whom Legree was endeavoring to install in her place, to destroy his peace of mind, and ultimately himself by means of wraithful appearances and weird sounds in the garret of the old mansion. Pretending to escape through the swamps, eluding their pursuers, they returned to the house and lay hid there for days, working their soul-stirring stratagem upon the worried Legree. Legree at the head of a pursuing party made up of negroes and bloodhounds sought the missing women in the swamps and forests by which his isolated plantation was surrounded, but in vain; and in the rage of failure, believing him to have been party to the escape, he turned upon Tom. "Well, ye black beast," he roared, in a paroxysm of baffled rage, "I've made up my mind to kill ye." "Very likely, Marse Legree," replied Tom, calmly. "Unless ye tell me what ye know about these yer gals," said Legree. "I hain't got nothin' to tell, Marse," said Tom. "Don't ye dare tell me that ye don't know, ye old black Christian," cried Legree in angry contempt, striking him furiously. "Yes--I know, Marse," said Tom, "but I can't tell anything. I can die." "Hark ye, Tom," roared Legree, in a terrible voice, "this time I mean what I say. I'll conquer ye or I'll kill ye! I'll count every drop of blood in your body till ye give up." "Marse," said Tom, "if you was sick, or in trouble, or dyin', and it would save ye, I'd give ye my heart's blood, and if takin' every drop of blood in this poor old body of mine would save your precious soul, I'd give 'em freely as the Lord gave His for me. Do the worst ye can. My troubles will soon be over, but if ye don't repent, yours won't never end!" For a moment Legree stood aghast, awed into silence by Tom's absolutely fearless reliance upon his faith, but only for a moment. There was one hesitating pause, and the spirit of evil within him, defied, rose with sevenfold vehemence. Foaming with rage, he struck his victim to the ground and gave him over to be flogged to ribbons. "Pay away until he gives up!" shouted Legree, as the floggers led him away. Two days later George Shelby, Tom's boy-friend from Kentucky, now grown to manhood, appeared to fulfil his promise of redemption, but he came too late. Tom lay dying of his wounds. "I've come to take you home," said George, tears falling from his eyes as he bent over his old friend. "Bless the Lord--it's Marse George!" cried Tom, as he opened his eyes, bewildered. "They haven't forgot me! They haven't forgot me! Now, I shall die content."

At this moment Legree sauntered in and looked on carelessly. "The old Satan!" cried George, in his indignation. "It's a comfort to think the devil will pay him for this some of these days." "Hush, Marse George!" said Uncle Tom. "Don't feel so. He 'ain't done me no real harm--only opened the gates of heaven for me--that's all." The sudden flush of strength died away. A sense of sinking came over him and he closed his eyes. His broad chest rose and fell heavily. The expression of his face was that of a conqueror. "Who--who shall separate us from the love of Christ?" he whispered in a voice that contended with mortal weakness, and with a smile on his lips he fell asleep. "Witness, Eternal God," said George Shelby, as he knelt beside the body of his departed friend, "oh, witness from this hour, I will do what one man can do to drive out this curse of slavery from my land."