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Updated: April 30, 2025
Prudence was never a cardinal virtue of the Kentucky boy. George turned, and, with one indignant blow, knocked Legree flat upon his face; and, as he stood over him, blazing with wrath and defiance, he would have formed no bad personification of his great namesake triumphing over the dragon. Some men, however, are decidedly bettered by being knocked down.
Tom by this time had gained his feet, and was confronting his master with a steady, unmoved front. "The devil, you can!" said Legree, looking him over. "I believe you haven't got enough yet. Now, Tom, get right down on yer knees and beg my pardon, for yer shines last night." Tom did not move. "Down, you dog!" said Legree, striking him with his riding-whip.
Slavery made a brute still more brutal made the sensual man more sensual, and finally debased Legree to the level of the demon. It is a book full of pathos and tears. Remembering that the book was written for the miscellaneous millions, to rouse the nation at large to moral indignation, it is doubtful whether any book was ever more perfectly adapted to the end aimed at.
I know what real slavery is. I know as much about slavery as the man that made it. He's the guy that taught me. I worked under Simon Legree in Louisiana. On the way to New Orleans we paused at a siding, and a native asked me, "Who are all them men, and which way are they goin'?" I told him "which way" we were going, and that we were needing jobs.
Just then the door opened, and Sambo entered. He came forward, bowing, and holding out something in a paper. "What's that, you dog?" said Legree. "It's a witch thing, Mas'r!" "A what?" "Something that niggers gets from witches. Keeps 'em from feelin' when they 's flogged. He had it tied round his neck, with a black string." Legree, like most godless and cruel men, was superstitious.
None is genuine without Simon Legree and the Louisiana bloodhounds. The silk-socked wage slave, toiling eight hours for six dollars, is not the genuine old New Orleans molasses slave. He may carry a band and give a daily street parade, but if he's not accompanied by Simon Legree and the bloodhounds, he is not a genuine Uncle Tom, his slavery is less than skin deep. You can't fool me.
Nobody can live entirely without social intercourse; and Legree encouraged his two black satellites to a kind of coarse familiarity with him, a familiarity, however, at any moment liable to get one or the other of them into trouble; for, on the slightest provocation, one of them always stood ready, at a nod, to be a minister of his vengeance on the other.
You ought to read 'Uncle Tom's Cabin, and all about that poor religious Uncle Tom, and Legree, and Eliza crossing the river on the blocks of ice." "I have read it twice, your ladyship," was Jane's earnestly regretful response, "and most awful it is, and made me and mother cry beyond words.
"Ye see what ye'd get!" said Legree, caressing the dogs with grim satisfaction, and turning to Tom and his companions. "Ye see what ye'd get, if ye try to run off. These yer dogs has been raised to track niggers; and they'd jest as soon chaw one on ye up as eat their supper. So, mind yerself!
Legree looked stupefied and confounded; but at last burst forth, "What! ye blasted black beast! tell me ye don't think it right to do what I tell ye! What have any of you cussed cattle to do with thinking what's right? I'll put a stop to it! Why, what do ye think ye are? May be ye think ye'r a gentleman master, Tom, to be a telling your master what's right, and what ain't!
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