HARRIET BEECHER STOWE:
A Literary Soldier
Uncle Tom’s Cabin
An Adaptation
Harriet: Well, sir, for as long as I can remember, it was my father’s fervent wish that I had been born a boy! He was constantly lamenting the fact that any intelligence or other good qualities I might possess were wasted due to the fact that I had been born female.
Lyman: “Wishdt it had been a boy. If only Hattie were a boy, now she’d do more than any of ‘em …Now don’t get me wrong, Harriet is a great genius, but I would give a hun’erd dollars if she was a boy!”
Young Harriet: Please let me go with you, father. I promise I won’t be bothersome. Well, I won’t be this time. Come on, Billy, Edward! Let’s chop some wood so we can fish with father! I can too, and more than you!
Harriet: And I did, too! And now I find that you, too, wish to patronize me because I
wear petticoats instead of trousers. I have come here to my brother, Henry’s house in Brooklyn to vacation with him and be a part of this overwhelming celebration in response to my novel, Uncle Tom’s Cabin. However, I am quite pleased that you have agreed to meet with me today and I am well aware that you are only one of MANY who think that the characters and incidents depicted in my story were either exaggerated or fabricated entirely. But I can assure you, that is NOT the case. My determination to tell Uncle Tom’s story came from different experiences. One in particular was a letter I received from my sister-in-law, Isabella.
Isabella: “Dearest Hattie, I have been nourishing an anti-slavery spirit since {our dear
friend Reverend} Lovejoy was murdered for publishing in his newspaper, articles against slavery and intemperance, when our home was in Illinois. And now,
Boston, which claims to be the cradle of liberty, has opened her doors to the
slave hunters. The terrible things that are going on in Boston are well calculated to rouse this spirit. What can I do? Not much myself, but I know one who can. Now Hattie, buckle on your armor! If I could use a pen as you can, I would write something that would make this whole nation feel what an accursed thing slavery is!”
Harriet: It was then that I realized “I longed to do something, even the humblest in this cause.” I promised my family, “I will write something, I will if I live!” But what would I write? Something that could rouse an entire country was a daunting task. But then one wintry day, while I was sitting in church on Communion Sunday, a vision appeared so clearly in my mind of an old slave being beaten and flogged to death. Yet, he had only a look of compassion and words of forgiveness for his tormentors. When I returned home, I went immediately to my desk and began to write out the scene that I had envisioned. But by now this righteous old man had a name which was Uncle Tom and his ruthless owner, I named Simon Legree.
UTC: “Well, Tom, do you know I’ve made up my mind to KILL you?”
“It’s very likely, Mas’r,” said Tom calmly.
“Speak!” thundered Legree, striking him furiously. “Do you know anything?”
Tom looked up to his master, and answered, “Mas’r if you was sick or in trouble or diein’ and I could save ye, I’d give ye my heart’s blood. And if takin’ evry drop of blood from this poor ol’ body would save your precious soul, I’d give ‘em freely as the Lord gave his for me. Oh, Mas’r! Don’t bring this great sin on your soul! It will hurt you more than t’will me! Do the worst you can, my troubles’ll be over soon; but if ye don’t repent, yours won’t never end!...” It was but a moment. There was one hesitating pause,--one irresolute, relenting thrill,--and the spirit of evil came back, with seven-fold vehemence; and Legree, foaming with rage smote his victim to the ground!”
Harriet: When my husband arrived in Maine that spring, he read the scene that I had written. As he read his eyes filled with tears and when he was finished he encouraged me to continue with this project that had become so close to my heart. I was relieved that he was not intimidated by his outspoken wife.
Calvin: Hattie, this is the climax of that story of slavery you promised you would write. Start at the beginning and work up to this scene and you’ll have your book. You must be a literary woman. It is so written in the book of fate!
Harriet: Hearing these words from my beloved husband encouraged me so that and doubts or insecurities I had about being a writer vanished like a shooting star through the heavens. I began to review the events in my life that had left indelible pictures in my mind. I hoped to transfer those pictures from my mind to the paper with words from my pen. The first stop on my memory’s journey was back to Cincinnati where I was first exposed to this abhorrent institution. We had come to Cincinnati because of my father’s appointment to Lane Seminary. I remind you of this because the anti-slavery activity going on at the school at that time made a great impression on me. Some of the students favored gradual emancipation. There were others who believed in repatriation or colonization back to Africa, the Negro’s homeland. But by far the majority of students supported the Abolitionist’s position that slavery should be abolished totally and immediately throughout the United States. They were led by a fiery, young orator named Theodore Weld and his arguments were very convincing!
Theodore: With all due respect, Reverend Beecher, although this is a debate, freedom should not be a subject open to debate either here at Lane or in this country. It is the right of all people, regardless of their race! It is not something that should happen gradually. AND repatriation does NOT work. It has been tried my the American Colonization Society and after fourteen years not even 1500 slaves have been returned to Africa. Besides, few of the slaves who are alive today were born in Africa. They are AMERICANS, and being Americans they deserve to be FREE, NOW AND ALWAYS!
UTC: “My country!” said George, “what country have I but the grave,--and I wish to God that I was laid there!”…Mr. Wilson, you have a country; but what country have I, or any one like me, born of slave mothers? What laws are there for us? We don’t make them—we don’t consent to them, -- we have nothing to do with them; all they do for us is to crush us, and keep us down. Haven’t I heard your Fourth-of-July speeches? Don’t you tell us all, once a year that governments derive their just power from the consent of the governed? Can’t a fellow think that hears such things? Can’t he put this and that together, and see what it comes to?”
Harriet: The scenes from my book are still occurring daily everywhere people are enslaved. Just recently, Mr. Stowe unwrapped a small parcel addressed to me, and to my horror a black human ear fell from it. But, perhaps one of the most frightening stories was told to me by my brother Charles about the time he spent living in Louisiana and his boat ride back to Cincinnati.
Charles: The plantation system in the South is an aberration! Slaves are overworked to the point of exhaustion or even death. I have heard slave owners and overseers complain that the slave population is not sustaining itself even with more slaves being brought from Africa. On my way here to Cincinnati, I met one of these owners who made me feel of his hard and calloused fist which he claimed was the result of beating his slaves until dead!
UTC: “Now,” said {Simon Legree}, “D’ye see this fist? Heft it! Look at these yer bones! Well, I tell ye this yer fist has got as hard as iron! Yes, indeed. I’m none o’ yer gentlemen planters, with lily fingers…Just feel of my knuckles, now; look at my fist. Tell ye, the flesh on’t has come jest like a stone, feel on it!
Harriet: “You see Reverend Parker, in telling this story it was always my objective, as much as possible to separate the system from the men.” In order to balance the horror and abuse inflicted by some because of the evils which I believe ARE inherent to this system, I purposely gave consideration to “those excellent and redeeming traits which are often found” in certain individuals connected with it. I created the generous and noble-hearted Augustine St. and for that I drew on many fond remembrances from my childhood.
Harriet: Georgiana, I have you heard about Lord Byron? Have you read him? Have you seen him? Everything about him is exquisite! His face, his poetry his spirit! I want to be just like him. A great writer, a great poet. And then one day when we are both famous and have lots of money, “we can return here by this beautiful Park River and have long talks in the pine woods and knit up the whole history from the place we left it.”
Harriet: There was also my mother, Roxanna, who was as compassionate as she was beautiful. I was only five years old when she died. After her death, I was sent away to live with her family in a little town near New Haven, called Nutplains. I suppose it was to spare me from the overwhelming grief that consumed the Beecher household. But for me, it was a happy time where I became acquainted with an assorted cast of agreeable characters; my grandmother Foote, my aunt Harriet for whom I had been named, my Uncle George, and my favorite, Uncle Samuel, a sea captain, who was full of fascinating stories that sparked my already active imagination.
Samuel: Why child, we were lost at sea in the midst of a storm with the winds blowing so hard and the waves so high, it seemed as if our tiny ship would be broken into matchsticks! No, it’s true! But when the clouds broke and the seas subsided, our port of Constantinople lay on the horizon with wine and women waiting for us! Now, don’t you tell your father young lady! My philosophy is, as they say in Venice, “Horas no numero nisi serenas!” Count only the happy hours.
Harriet: Unfortunately, the happy hours are decreasing daily here in our country and the difference between my uncle’s tall tales and my novel are that his stories were told to entertain an inquisitive child; my story was written to try to wake a sleeping nation from a nightmare that could destroy it! I wrote what I did because as a woman, as a mother, I was oppressed and broken-hearted with the sorrows and injustice I saw, because as a Christian I felt the dishonor to Christianity, because as a lover of my country I trembled at the coming day of wrath. I felt that I must speak for the oppressed who could not speak for themselves. I could not control this story…It seemed to me that the Lord himself wrote it, and that I was but the humblest of instruments in his hand.” Good day to you, sir, thank you for coming. It has been my pleasure to meet you!
THE END
Study Suggestions for Elementary School Students
Harriet Beecher Stowe: A Literary Soldier
1. Students should have a general knowledge about the time period. i.e) President Lincoln, the prevailing attitudes in the North and South, what slavery was and why, etc.
1. They should have a passing knowledge of who Harriet Beecher Stowe is and her novel “Uncle Tom’s Cabin”. Give them a brief synopsis of the story so they will be familiar with the story line and the main characters, Uncle Tom, Augustine St. Claire, Simon Legree, George and Eliza Harris and Little Eva.
1. Go over some if not all of this vocabulary:
fervent intemperance calculate
lamenting accursed daunting
patronize indelible abhorrent
exaggerate exhaustion inherent
Theatre Etiquette Basic Rules of Theatre Etiquette
furnished by Musical-Theatre- Kids.com
· Visit the restroom before the performance begins.
· Turn off your cell phone or, if it must be on, put it on vibrate. Do not speak on the phone during the performance. If you must call the person back, do it outside during intermission or after the show has finished. DO NOT TEXT DURING THE PERFORMANCE!
· Pay attention to announcements that are made prior to many shows about the rules of the theater you are attending and the location of the fire exits.
· Don't speak during the performance...whispering is still speaking, so only in an emergency.
· .Do not take pictures during the performance. It can be very distracting to the actors and can cause a mishap.
· Remain in your seat for the entire performance. If you must leave, exit during intermission. In an emergency, wait for an appropriate break in the show. It is rude to get up in the middle of a quiet moment...rude to the actors and your fellow audience members.
· Do not eat or drink in the theater. If you must have a cough drop, or something of that nature, do not make noise with the wrapper.
· Do not put your feet up on the seats or balcony and do not kick the seat in front of you.
· Don't put or throw anything on the stage.
· Do laugh when the performance is funny.
· Do applaud when it is appropriate during the performance.
· Do applaud when the performance is over...this tells the performers and crew that you appreciate their work.
· Stand and applaud if you really thought the show was great.
· Do not whistle or scream out to the performers except for a Bravo or Brava.
First Parish Church Organ
the vision of Uncle Tom.