Previous Chapter | |
I have never approved of the very public mannerin which some of our western friends have conductedwhat they call the ~underground railroad,~ but whichI think, by their open declarations, has been mademost emphatically the ~upperground railroad.~ I honorthose good men and women for their noble daring,and applaud them for willingly subjecting themselves to bloody persecution, by openly avowing theirparticipation in the escape of slaves. I, however, cansee very little good resulting from such a course,either to themselves or the slaves escaping; while,upon the other hand, I see and feel assured thatthose open declarations are a positive evil to theslaves remaining, who are seeking to escape. Theydo nothing towards enlightening the slave, whilstthey do much towards enlightening the master.They stimulate him to greater watchfulness, andenhance his power to capture his slave. We owesomething to the slave south of the line as well asto those north of it; and in aiding the latter on theirway to freedom, we should be careful to do nothingwhich would be likely to hinder the former fromescaping from slavery. I would keep the mercilessslaveholder profoundly ignorant of the means offlight adopted by the slave. I would leave him toimagine himself surrounded by myriads of invisibletormentors, ever ready to snatch from his infernalgrasp his trembling prey. Let him be left to feelhis way in the dark; let darkness commensurate withhis crime hover over him; and let him feel that atevery step he takes, in pursuit of the flying bondman,he is running the frightful risk of having his hotbrains dashed out by an invisible agency. Let usrender the tyrant no aid; let us not hold the lightby which he can trace the footprints of our flyingbrother. But enough of this. I will now proceed tothe statement of those facts, connected with myescape, for which I am alone responsible, and forwhich no one can be made to suffer but myself.
In the early part of the year 1838, I became quiterestless. I could see no reason why I should, at theend of each week, pour the reward of my toil intothe purse of my master. When I carried to him myweekly wages, he would, after counting the money,look me in the face with a robber-like fierceness,and ask, "Is this all?" He was satisfied with nothingless than the last cent. He would, however, when Imade him six dollars, sometimes give me six cents,to encourage me. It had the opposite effect. I regarded it as a sort of admission of my right to thewhole. The fact that he gave me any part of mywages was proof, to my mind, that he believed meentitled to the whole of them. I always felt worsefor having received any thing; for I feared that thegiving me a few cents would ease his conscience,and make him feel himself to be a pretty honorablesort of robber. My discontent grew upon me. I wasever on the look-out for means of escape; and, finding no direct means, I determined to try to hire mytime, with a view of getting money with which tomake my escape. In the spring of 1838, when MasterThomas came to Baltimore to purchase his springgoods, I got an opportunity, and applied to him toallow me to hire my time. He unhesitatingly refusedmy request, and told me this was another stratagemby which to escape. He told me I could go nowherebut that he could get me; and that, in the eventof my running away, he should spare no pains in hisefforts to catch me. He exhorted me to contentmyself, and be obedient. He told me, if I wouldbe happy, I must lay out no plans for the future.He said, if I behaved myself properly, he would takecare of me. Indeed, he advised me to completethoughtlessness of the future, and taught me to depend solely upon him for happiness. He seemed tosee fully the pressing necessity of setting aside myintellectual nature, in order to contentment inslavery. But in spite of him, and even in spite ofmyself, I continued to think, and to think aboutthe injustice of my enslavement, and the means ofescape.
About two months after this, I applied to MasterHugh for the privilege of hiring my time. He wasnot acquainted with the fact that I had applied toMaster Thomas, and had been refused. He too, atfirst, seemed disposed to refuse; but, after some reflection, he granted me the privilege, and proposedthe following terms: I was to be allowed all mytime, make all contracts with those for whom Iworked, and find my own employment; and, in return for this liberty, I was to pay him three dollarsat the end of each week; find myself in calking tools,and in board and clothing. My board was two dollars and a half per week. This, with the wear andtear of clothing and calking tools, made my regularexpenses about six dollars per week. This amountI was compelled to make up, or relinquish theprivilege of hiring my time. Rain or shine, work orno work, at the end of each week the money mustbe forthcoming, or I must give up my privilege. Thisarrangement, it will be perceived, was decidedly inmy master's favor. It relieved him of all need oflooking after me. His money was sure. He receivedall the benefits of slaveholding without its evils;while I endured all the evils of a slave, and sufferedall the care and anxiety of a freeman. I found it ahard bargain. But, hard as it was, I thought it betterthan the old mode of getting along. It was a steptowards freedom to be allowed to bear the responsibilities of a freeman, and I was determined to holdon upon it. I bent myself to the work of makingmoney. I was ready to work at night as well as day,and by the most untiring perseverance and industry,I made enough to meet my expenses, and lay upa little money every week. I went on thus from Maytill August. Master Hugh then refused to allow meto hire my time longer. The ground for his refusalwas a failure on my part, one Saturday night, to payhim for my week's time. This failure was occasionedby my attending a camp meeting about ten milesfrom Baltimore. During the week, I had enteredinto an engagement with a number of young friendsto start from Baltimore to the camp ground earlySaturday evening; and being detained by my employer, I was unable to get down to Master Hugh'swithout disappointing the company. I knew thatMaster Hugh was in no special need of the moneythat night. I therefore decided to go to camp meeting, and upon my return pay him the three dollars.I staid at the camp meeting one day longer than Iintended when I left. But as soon as I returned, Icalled upon him to pay him what he considered hisdue. I found him very angry; he could scarce restrainhis wrath. He said he had a great mind to give me asevere whipping. He wished to know how I daredgo out of the city without asking his permission. Itold him I hired my time and while I paid him theprice which he asked for it, I did not know that Iwas bound to ask him when and where I should go.This reply troubled him; and, after reflecting a fewmoments, he turned to me, and said I should hiremy time no longer; that the next thing he shouldknow of, I would be running away. Upon the sameplea, he told me to bring my tools and clothinghome forthwith. I did so; but instead of seekingwork, as I had been accustomed to do previously tohiring my time, I spent the whole week withoutthe performance of a single stroke of work. I did thisin retaliation. Saturday night, he called upon meas usual for my week's wages. I told him I had nowages; I had done no work that week. Here wewere upon the point of coming to blows. He raved,and swore his determination to get hold of me. I didnot allow myself a single word; but was resolved, ifhe laid the weight of his hand upon me, it shouldbe blow for blow. He did not strike me, but told methat he would find me in constant employment infuture. I thought the matter over during the next day,Sunday, and finally resolved upon the third day ofSeptember, as the day upon which I would make asecond attempt to secure my freedom. I now hadthree weeks during which to prepare for my journey.Early on Monday morning, before Master Hugh hadtime to make any engagement for me, I went outand got employment of Mr. Butler, at his ship-yardnear the drawbridge, upon what is called the CityBlock, thus making it unnecessary for him to seekemployment for me. At the end of the week, Ibrought him between eight and nine dollars. Heseemed very well pleased, and asked why I did notdo the same the week before. He little knew whatmy plans were. My object in working steadily wasto remove any suspicion he might entertain of myintent to run away; and in this I succeeded admirably. I suppose he thought I was never bettersatisfied with my condition than at the very timeduring which I was planning my escape. The secondweek passed, and again I carried him my full wages;and so well pleased was he, that he gave me twentyfive cents, (quite a large sum for a slaveholder togive a slave,) and bade me to make a good use of it.I told him I would.
Things went on without very smoothly indeed,but within there was trouble. It is impossible forme to describe my feelings as the time of my contemplated start drew near. I had a number of warmhearted friends in Baltimore,--friends that I lovedalmost as I did my life,--and the thought of beingseparated from them forever was painful beyondexpression. It is my opinion that thousands wouldescape from slavery, who now remain, but for thestrong cords of affection that bind them to theirfriends. The thought of leaving my friends was decidedly the most painful thought with which I hadto contend. The love of them was my tender point,and shook my decision more than all things else.Besides the pain of separation, the dread and apprehension of a failure exceeded what I had experiencedat my first attempt. The appalling defeat I thensustained returned to torment me. I felt assuredthat, if I failed in this attempt, my case would bea hopeless one--it would seal my fate as a slave forever. I could not hope to get off with any thing lessthan the severest punishment, and being placedbeyond the means of escape. It required no veryvivid imagination to depict the most frightfulscenes through which I should have to pass, in caseI failed. The wretchedness of slavery, and theblessedness of freedom, were perpetually before me.It was life and death with me. But I remainedfirm, and, according to my resolution, on the thirdday of September, 1838, I left my chains, and succeeded in reaching New York without the slightestinterruption of any kind. How I did so,--what meansI adopted,--what direction I travelled, and by whatmode of conveyance,--I must leave unexplained,for the reasons before mentioned.
I have been frequently asked how I felt when Ifound myself in a free State. I have never been ableto answer the question with any satisfaction to myself. It was a moment of the highest excitement Iever experienced. I suppose I felt as one may imaginethe unarmed mariner to feel when he is rescuedby a friendly man-of-war from the pursuit of a pirate.In writing to a dear friend, immediately after myarrival at New York, I said I felt like one who hadescaped a den of hungry lions. This state of mind,however, very soon subsided; and I was again seizedwith a feeling of great insecurity and loneliness. Iwas yet liable to be taken back, and subjected toall the tortures of slavery. This in itself was enoughto damp the ardor of my enthusiasm. But the loneliness overcame me. There I was in the midst ofthousands, and yet a perfect stranger; without homeand without friends, in the midst of thousands of myown brethren--children of a common Father, andyet I dared not to unfold to any one of them mysad condition. I was afraid to speak to any one forfear of speaking to the wrong one, and thereby falling into the hands of money-loving kidnappers,whose business it was to lie in wait for the pantingfugitive, as the ferocious beasts of the forest lie inwait for their prey. The motto which I adoptedwhen I started from slavery was this--"Trust noman!" I saw in every white man an enemy, and inalmost every colored man cause for distrust. It wasa most painful situation; and, to understand it, onemust needs experience it, or imagine himself insimilar circumstances. Let him be a fugitive slave ina strange land--a land given up to be the huntingground for slaveholders--whose inhabitants are legalized kidnappers--where he is every moment subjected to the terrible liability of being seized uponby his fellowmen, as the hideous crocodile seizesupon his prey!--I say, let him place himself in mysituation--without home or friends--without moneyor credit--wanting shelter, and no one to give it-wanting bread, and no money to buy it,--and at thesame time let him feel that he is pursued by merciless men-hunters, and in total darkness as to whatto do, where to go, or where to stay,--perfectly helpless both as to the means of defence and means ofescape,--in the midst of plenty, yet suffering the terrible gnawings of hunger,--in the midst of houses,yet having no home,--among fellow-men, yet feelingas if in the midst of wild beasts, whose greedinessto swallow up the trembling and half-famished fugitive is only equalled by that with which the monstersof the deep swallow up the helpless fish upon whichthey subsist,--I say, let him be placed in this mosttrying situation,--the situation in which I was placed,--then, and not till then, will he fully appreciate thehardships of, and know how to sympathize with, thetoil-worn and whip-scarred fugitive slave.
Thank Heaven, I remained but a short time inthis distressed situation. I was relieved from it by thehumane hand of Mr. DAVID RUGGLES, whose vigilance, kindness, and perseverance, I shall never forget. I am glad of an opportunity to express, as far aswords can, the love and gratitude I bear him. Mr.Ruggles is now afflicted with blindness, and is himself in need of the same kind offices which he wasonce so forward in the performance of toward others.I had been in New York but a few days, when Mr.Ruggles sought me out, and very kindly took meto his boarding-house at the corner of Church andLespenard Streets. Mr. Ruggles was then very deeplyengaged in the memorable ~Darg~ case, as well as attending to a number of other fugitive slaves, devising ways and means for their successful escape; and,though watched and hemmed in on almost everyside, he seemed to be more than a match for hisenemies.
Very soon after I went to Mr. Ruggles, he wishedto know of me where I wanted to go; as he deemedit unsafe for me to remain in New York. I told himI was a calker, and should like to go where I couldget work. I thought of going to Canada; but he decided against it, and in favor of my going to NewBedford, thinking I should be able to get work thereat my trade. At this time, Anna,* my intended wife,came on; for I wrote to her immediately after myarrival at New York, (notwithstanding my homeless,houseless, and helpless condition,) informing her ofmy successful flight, and wishing her to come onforthwith. In a few days after her arrival, Mr. Ruggles called in the Rev. J. W. C. Pennington, who, inthe presence of Mr. Ruggles, Mrs. Michaels, andtwo or three others, performed the marriage ceremony, and gave us a certificate, of which the following is an exact copy:--
"This may certify, that I joined together in holymatrimony Frederick Johnson+ and Anna Murray, asman and wife, in the presence of Mr. David Rugglesand Mrs. Michaels.
"JAMES W. C. PENNINGTON
"NEW YORK, SEPT. 15, 1838"
Upon receiving this certificate, and a five-dollarbill from Mr. Ruggles, I shouldered one part of ourbaggage, and Anna took up the other, and we setout forthwith to take passage on board of the steamboat John W. Richmond for Newport, on our wayto New Bedford. Mr. Ruggles gave me a letter to aMr. Shaw in Newport, and told me, in case mymoney did not serve me to New Bedford, to stop inNewport and obtain further assistance; but upon our
*She was free.
+I had changed my name from Frederick BAILEYto that of JOHNSON.
arrival at Newport, we were so anxious to get to aplace of safety, that, notwithstanding we lacked thenecessary money to pay our fare, we decided to takeseats in the stage, and promise to pay when we gotto New Bedford. We were encouraged to do this bytwo excellent gentlemen, residents of New Bedford,whose names I afterward ascertained to be JosephRicketson and William C. Taber. They seemed atonce to understand our circumstances, and gave ussuch assurance of their friendliness as put us fullyat ease in their presence. It was good indeed to meetwith such friends, at such a time. Upon reachingNew Bedford, we were directed to the house of Mr.Nathan Johnson, by whom we were kindly received,and hospitably provided for. Both Mr. and Mrs.Johnson took a deep and lively interest in our welfare. They proved themselves quite worthy of thename of abolitionists. When the stage-driver foundus unable to pay our fare, he held on upon our baggage as security for the debt. I had but to mentionthe fact to Mr. Johnson, and he forthwith advancedthe money.
We now began to feel a degree of safety, and toprepare ourselves for the duties and responsibilitiesof a life of freedom. On the morning after our arrival at New Bedford, while at the breakfast-table,the question arose as to what name I should becalled by. The name given me by my mother was,"Frederick Augustus Washington Bailey." I, however, had dispensed with the two middle names longbefore I left Maryland so that I was generally knownby the name of "Frederick Bailey." I started fromBaltimore bearing the name of "Stanley." When Igot to New York, I again changed my name to "Frederick Johnson," and thought that would be the lastchange. But when I got to New Bedford, I found itnecessary again to change my name. The reason ofthis necessity was, that there were so many Johnsonsin New Bedford, it was already quite difficult todistinguish between them. I gave Mr. Johnson theprivilege of choosing me a name, but told him hemust not take from me the name of "Frederick."I must hold on to that, to preserve a sense of myidentity. Mr. Johnson had just been reading the"Lady of the Lake," and at once suggested that myname be "Douglass." From that time until now Ihave been called "Frederick Douglass;" and as I ammore widely known by that name than by either ofthe others, I shall continue to use it as my own.
I was quite disappointed at the general appearance of things in New Bedford. The impressionwhich I had received respecting the character andcondition of the people of the north, I found to besingularly erroneous. I had very strangely supposed,while in slavery, that few of the comforts, andscarcely any of the luxuries, of life were enjoyed atthe north, compared with what were enjoyed by theslaveholders of the south. I probably came to thisconclusion from the fact that northern people ownedno slaves. I supposed that they were about upon alevel with the non-slaveholding population of thesouth. I knew ~they~ were exceedingly poor, and I hadbeen accustomed to regard their poverty as the necessary consequence of their being non-slaveholders.I had somehow imbibed the opinion that, in theabsence of slaves, there could be no wealth, and verylittle refinement. And upon coming to the north, Iexpected to meet with a rough, hard-handed, anduncultivated population, living in the most Spartanlike simplicity, knowing nothing of the ease, luxury,pomp, and grandeur of southern slaveholders. Suchbeing my conjectures, any one acquainted with theappearance of New Bedford may very readily inferhow palpably I must have seen my mistake.
In the afternoon of the day when I reached NewBedford, I visited the wharves, to take a view of theshipping. Here I found myself surrounded with thestrongest proofs of wealth. Lying at the wharves, andriding in the stream, I saw many ships of the finestmodel, in the best order, and of the largest size.Upon the right and left, I was walled in by granitewarehouses of the widest dimensions, stowed to theirutmost capacity with the necessaries and comfortsof life. Added to this, almost every body seemed tobe at work, but noiselessly so, compared with whatI had been accustomed to in Baltimore. There wereno loud songs heard from those engaged in loadingand unloading ships. I heard no deep oaths or horridcurses on the laborer. I saw no whipping of men;but all seemed to go smoothly on. Every man appeared to understand his work, and went at it witha sober, yet cheerful earnestness, which betokenedthe deep interest which he felt in what he was doing,as well as a sense of his own dignity as a man. To methis looked exceedingly strange. From the wharves Istrolled around and over the town, gazing with wonder and admiration at the splendid churches, beautiful dwellings, and finely-cultivated gardens; evincingan amount of wealth, comfort, taste, and refinement,such as I had never seen in any part of slaveholdingMaryland.
Every thing looked clean, new, and beautiful. Isaw few or no dilapidated houses, with povertystricken inmates; no half-naked children and barefooted women, such as I had been accustomed to seein Hillsborough, Easton, St. Michael's, and Baltimore. The people looked more able, stronger, healthier, and happier, than those of Maryland. I was foronce made glad by a view of extreme wealth, withoutbeing saddened by seeing extreme poverty. But themost astonishing as well as the most interesting thingto me was the condition of the colored people, agreat many of whom, like myself, had escapedthither as a refuge from the hunters of men. I foundmany, who had not been seven years out of theirchains, living in finer houses, and evidently enjoyingmore of the comforts of life, than the average ofslaveholders in Maryland. I will venture to assert,that my friend Mr. Nathan Johnson (of whom Ican say with a grateful heart, "I was hungry, and hegave me meat; I was thirsty, and he gave me drink;I was a stranger, and he took me in") lived in aneater house; dined at a better table; took, paidfor, and read, more newspapers; better understoodthe moral, religious, and political character of thenation,--than nine tenths of the slaveholders in Talbot county Maryland. Yet Mr. Johnson was a working man. His hands were hardened by toil, and nothis alone, but those also of Mrs. Johnson. I found thecolored people much more spirited than I had supposed they would be. I found among them a determination to protect each other from the blood-thirstykidnapper, at all hazards. Soon after my arrival, Iwas told of a circumstance which illustrated theirspirit. A colored man and a fugitive slave were onunfriendly terms. The former was heard to threatenthe latter with informing his master of his whereabouts. Straightway a meeting was called among thecolored people, under the stereotyped notice, "Business of importance!" The betrayer was invited to attend. The people came at the appointed hour, andorganized the meeting by appointing a very religiousold gentleman as president, who, I believe, made aprayer, after which he addressed the meeting as follows: "~Friends, we have got him here, and I wouldrecommend that you young men just take him outside the door, and kill him!~" With this, a numberof them bolted at him; but they were interceptedby some more timid than themselves, and the betrayer escaped their vengeance, and has not beenseen in New Bedford since. I believe there havebeen no more such threats, and should there be hereafter, I doubt not that death would be the consequence.
I found employment, the third day after my arrival, in stowing a sloop with a load of oil. It wasnew, dirty, and hard work for me; but I went at itwith a glad heart and a willing hand. I was now myown master. It was a happy moment, the rapture ofwhich can be understood only by those who havebeen slaves. It was the first work, the reward ofwhich was to be entirely my own. There was no Master Hugh standing ready, the moment I earned themoney, to rob me of it. I worked that day with apleasure I had never before experienced. I was atwork for myself and newly-married wife. It was to methe starting-point of a new existence. When I gotthrough with that job, I went in pursuit of a job ofcalking; but such was the strength of prejudiceagainst color, among the white calkers, that they refused to work with me, and of course I could get noemployment.* Finding my trade of no immediatebenefit, I threw off my calking habiliments, and prepared myself to do any kind of work I could get todo. Mr. Johnson kindly let me have his wood-horseand saw, and I very soon found myself a plenty ofwork. There was no work too hard--none too dirty.I was ready to saw wood, shovel coal, carry wood,sweep the chimney, or roll oil casks,--all of which I
* I am told that colored persons can now get employmentat calking in New Bedford--a result of anti-slavery effort.did for nearly three years in New Bedford, before Ibecame known to the anti-slavery world.
In about four months after I went to New Bedford, there came a young man to me, and inquiredif I did not wish to take the "Liberator." I told himI did; but, just having made my escape from slavery,I remarked that I was unable to pay for it then. I,however, finally became a subscriber to it. The papercame, and I read it from week to week with suchfeelings as it would be quite idle for me to attemptto describe. The paper became my meat and mydrink. My soul was set all on fire. Its sympathy formy brethren in bonds--its scathing denunciations ofslaveholders--its faithful exposures of slavery--and itspowerful attacks upon the upholders of the institution--sent a thrill of joy through my soul, such asI had never felt before!
I had not long been a reader of the "Liberator,"before I got a pretty correct idea of the principles,measures and spirit of the anti-slavery reform. I tookright hold of the cause. I could do but little; butwhat I could, I did with a joyful heart, and never felthappier than when in an anti-slavery meeting. I seldom had much to say at the meetings, because whatI wanted to say was said so much better by others.But, while attending an anti-slavery convention atNantucket, on the 11th of August, 1841, I feltstrongly moved to speak, and was at the same timemuch urged to do so by Mr. William C. Coffin, agentleman who had heard me speak in the coloredpeople's meeting at New Bedford. It was a severecross, and I took it up reluctantly. The truth was,I felt myself a slave, and the idea of speaking towhite people weighed me down. I spoke but a fewmoments, when I felt a degree of freedom, and saidwhat I desired with considerable ease. From thattime until now, I have been engaged in pleading thecause of my brethren--with what success, and withwhat devotion, I leave those acquainted with my labors to decide.
APPENDIX
I find, since reading over the foregoing Narrative,that I have, in several instances, spoken in such atone and manner, respecting religion, as may possibly lead those unacquainted with my religious viewsto suppose me an opponent of all religion. To remove the liability of such misapprehension, I deemit proper to append the following brief explanation.What I have said respecting and against religion, Imean strictly to apply to the ~slaveholding religion~ ofthis land, and with no possible reference to Christianity proper; for, between the Christianity of thisland, and the Christianity of Christ, I recognize thewidest possible difference--so wide, that to receivethe one as good, pure, and holy, is of necessity to reject the other as bad, corrupt, and wicked. To be thefriend of the one, is of necessity to be the enemyof the other. I love the pure, peaceable, and impartial Christianity of Christ: I therefore hate the corrupt, slaveholding, women-whipping, cradle-plundering, partial and hypocritical Christianity of this land.Indeed, I can see no reason, but the most deceitfulone, for calling the religion of this land Christianity.I look upon it as the climax of all misnomers, theboldest of all frauds, and the grossest of all libels.Never was there a clearer case of "stealing the liveryof the court of heaven to serve the devil in." I amfilled with unutterable loathing when I contemplate the religious pomp and show, together with thehorrible inconsistencies, which every where surroundme. We have men-stealers for ministers, womenwhippers for missionaries, and cradle-plunderers forchurch members. The man who wields the bloodclotted cowskin during the week fills the pulpit onSunday, and claims to be a minister of the meek andlowly Jesus. The man who robs me of my earningsat the end of each week meets me as a class-leaderon Sunday morning, to show me the way of life,and the path of salvation. He who sells my sister,for purposes of prostitution, stands forth as the pious advocate of purity. He who proclaims it a religious duty to read the Bible denies me the rightof learning to read the name of the God who mademe. He who is the religious advocate of marriagerobs whole millions of its sacred influence, and leavesthem to the ravages of wholesale pollution. Thewarm defender of the sacredness of the family relation is the same that scatters whole families,--sundering husbands and wives, parents and children,sisters and brothers,--leaving the hut vacant, and thehearth desolate. We see the thief preaching againsttheft, and the adulterer against adultery. We havemen sold to build churches, women sold to supportthe gospel, and babes sold to purchase Bibles forthe POOR HEATHEN! ALL FOR THE GLORY OF GOD AND THEGOOD OF SOULS! The slave auctioneer's bell and thechurch-going bell chime in with each other, and thebitter cries of the heart-broken slave are drownedin the religious shouts of his pious master. Revivalsof religion and revivals in the slave-trade go handin hand together. The slave prison and the churchstand near each other. The clanking of fetters andthe rattling of chains in the prison, and the piouspsalm and solemn prayer in the church, may beheard at the same time. The dealers in the bodiesand souls of men erect their stand in the presenceof the pulpit, and they mutually help each other.The dealer gives his blood-stained gold to supportthe pulpit, and the pulpit, in return, covers his infernal business with the garb of Christianity. Herewe have religion and robbery the allies of each other--devils dressed in angels' robes, and hell presentingthe semblance of paradise.
"Just God! and these are they, Who minister at thine altar, God of right!Men who their hands, with prayer and blessing, lay On Israel's ark of light.
"What! preach, and kidnap men? Give thanks, and rob thy own afflicted poor?Talk of thy glorious liberty, and then Bolt hard the captive's door?
"What! servants of thy own Merciful Son, who came to seek and saveThe homeless and the outcast, fettering down The tasked and plundered slave!
"Pilate and Herod friends! Chief priests and rulers, as of old, combine!Just God and holy! is that church which lends Strength to the spoiler thine?"
The Christianity of America is a Christianity, ofwhose votaries it may be as truly said, as it was ofthe ancient scribes and Pharisees, "They bind heavyburdens, and grievous to be borne, and lay them onmen's shoulders, but they themselves will not movethem with one of their fingers. All their works theydo for to be seen of men.--They love the uppermost rooms at feasts, and the chief seats in the synagogues, . . . . . . and to be called of men, Rabbi,Rabbi.--But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees,hypocrites! for ye shut up the kingdom of heavenagainst men; for ye neither go in yourselves, neithersuffer ye them that are entering to go in. Ye devourwidows' houses, and for a pretence make longprayers; therefore ye shall receive the greater damnation. Ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte, and when he is made, ye make him twofoldmore the child of hell than yourselves.--Woe untoyou, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye paytithe of mint, and anise, and cumin, and have omitted the weightier matters of the law, judgment,mercy, and faith; these ought ye to have done, andnot to leave the other undone. Ye blind guides!which strain at a gnat, and swallow a camel. Woeunto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for yemake clean the outside of the cup and of the platter;but within, they are full of extortion and excess.-Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! forye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of deadmen's bones, and of all uncleanness. Even so ye alsooutwardly appear righteous unto men, but withinye are full of hypocrisy and iniquity."
Dark and terrible as is this picture, I hold it to bestrictly true of the overwhelming mass of professedChristians in America. They strain at a gnat, andswallow a camel. Could any thing be more true ofour churches? They would be shocked at the proposition of fellowshipping a SHEEP-stealer; and at thesame time they hug to their communion a MANstealer, and brand me with being an infidel, if Ifind fault with them for it. They attend with Pharisaical strictness to the outward forms of religion, andat the same time neglect the weightier matters ofthe law, judgment, mercy, and faith. They are always ready to sacrifice, but seldom to show mercy.They are they who are represented as professing tolove God whom they have not seen, whilst they hatetheir brother whom they have seen. They love theheathen on the other side of the globe. They canpray for him, pay money to have the Bible put intohis hand, and missionaries to instruct him; whilethey despise and totally neglect the heathen at theirown doors.
Such is, very briefly, my view of the religion ofthis land; and to avoid any misunderstanding, growing out of the use of general terms, I mean by thereligion of this land, that which is revealed in thewords, deeds, and actions, of those bodies, north andsouth, calling themselves Christian churches, and yetin union with slaveholders. It is against religion, aspresented by these bodies, that I have felt it myduty to testify.
I conclude these remarks by copying the followingportrait of the religion of the south, (which is, bycommunion and fellowship, the religion of thenorth,) which I soberly affirm is "true to the life,"and without caricature or the slightest exaggeration.It is said to have been drawn, several years beforethe present anti-slavery agitation began, by a northern Methodist preacher, who, while residing at thesouth, had an opportunity to see slaveholding morals, manners, and piety, with his own eyes. "ShallI not visit for these things? saith the Lord. Shall notmy soul be avenged on such a nation as this?"
A PARODY
"Come, saints and sinners, hear me tellHow pious priests whip Jack and Nell,And women buy and children sell,And preach all sinners down to hell, And sing of heavenly union."They'll bleat and baa, dona like goats,Gorge down black sheep, and strain at motes,Array their backs in fine black coats,Then seize their negroes by their throats, And choke, for heavenly union.
"They'll church you if you sip a dram,And damn you if you steal a lamb;Yet rob old Tony, Doll, and Sam,Of human rights, and bread and ham; Kidnapper's heavenly union.
"They'll loudly talk of Christ's reward,And bind his image with a cord,And scold, and swing the lash abhorred,And sell their brother in the Lord To handcuffed heavenly union.
"They'll read and sing a sacred song,And make a prayer both loud and long,And teach the right and do the wrong,Hailing the brother, sister throng, With words of heavenly union.
"We wonder how such saints can sing,Or praise the Lord upon the wing,Who roar, and scold, and whip, and sting,And to their slaves and mammon cling, In guilty conscience union.
"They'll raise tobacco, corn, and rye,And drive, and thieve, and cheat, and lie,And lay up treasures in the sky,By making switch and cowskin fly, In hope of heavenly union."They'll crack old Tony on the skull,And preach and roar like Bashan bull,Or braying ass, of mischief full,Then seize old Jacob by the wool, And pull for heavenly union.
"A roaring, ranting, sleek man-thief,Who lived on mutton, veal, and beef,Yet never would afford reliefTo needy, sable sons of grief, Was big with heavenly union.
"'Love not the world,' the preacher said,And winked his eye, and shook his head;He seized on Tom, and Dick, and Ned,Cut short their meat, and clothes, and bread, Yet still loved heavenly union.
"Another preacher whining spokeOf One whose heart for sinners broke:He tied old Nanny to an oak,And drew the blood at every stroke, And prayed for heavenly union.
"Two others oped their iron jaws,And waved their children-stealing paws;There sat their children in gewgaws;By stinting negroes' backs and maws, They kept up heavenly union.
"All good from Jack another takes,And entertains their flirts and rakes,Who dress as sleek as glossy snakes,And cram their mouths with sweetened cakes; And this goes down for union."
Sincerely and earnestly hoping that this little bookmay do something toward throwing light on theAmerican slave system, and hastening the glad dayof deliverance to the millions of my brethren inbonds--faithfully relying upon the power of truth,love, and justice, for success in my humble efforts--and solemnly pledging my self anew to the sacredcause,--I subscribe myself,
FREDERICK DOUGLASSLYNN, ~Mass., April~ 28, 1845.
THE END
Previous Chapter | |