Introduction
Introduction
When in any State, the oppression of the laboring portion of the community amounts to an entire deprivation of their civil and personal rights; when it assumes to control their wills, to assign them tasks, to reap the rewards of their labor, and to punish with bodily tortures the least infraction of its mandates, it is obvious that the class so overwhelmed with injustice, are necessarily, unless prevented by ignorance from knowing their rights and their wrongs, the enemies of the government. To them, insurrection and rebellion are primary, original duties. If successfully thwarted in the performance of these, emigration suggests itself as the next means of escaping the evils under which they groan. From the exercise of this right, they can only be restrained by fear and force. These, however, will sometimes be found inadequate to hold in check the natural desire of liberty. Many, in spite of all opposition, in the face of torture and death, will seek an asylum in foreign lands, and reveal to the ears of pitying indignation, the secrets of the prisonhouse.
The escape of slaves forms the most irritating subject of discussion between the North and the South.
If on this, as on all other evils connected with or growing out of slavery, a common man of plain common sense, were asked his opinion, he would probably say—”remove the cause and the effects will cease; remove the oppression which induces to emigration, and a fugitive slave will be an impossibility.” But this “would only excite a smile at the South.” How mistaken is common sense!
The South are taking measures, (when was it otherwise?) to preserve, extend, and perpetuate slavery. The problem must be solved, if solved at all, without the oppression being removed.
By the combined influence of ignorance and fear, the amount of emigration has been reduced to a minimum. We could wish the South would adopt a mode of reasoning sometimes presented to us,—something of this sort;—in all kinds of business, losses are inevitable. Men at the North lose by fall of stocks, by consignments, by fires, and in a great variety of ways. If a Yankee loses a ship worth twenty thousand dollars, he does not expend one hundred thousand in endeavoring to fish it up. He simply enters it in his account of profit and loss. And if a slave runs away, we might as well make the same entry quietly, as to wound the feelings and sensibilities of our northern friends; magnifying and increasing “the deep sectional difference of inborn feeling;” and filling whole cities with grief, shame, andan indignation irrepressible, except by marines and detachments of artillery.
Meanwhile the fugitive slave law continues to be enforced.
Gloss the matter over as much as we may, and take “south-side views” through a multiplying glass,—yet we must admit, that the slave’s is a cruel lot.
We may compare King James’s or the Douay Bible with the Hebrew and the Septuagint; we may find there, and in all recensions, polyglotts, and translations extant, the history of Abraham and Hagar,—yet we must allow, that an American slave, in his best estate, is a man badly educated, and systematically ill used.
We may study the New Testament and become conversant with the proceedings of Paul in regard to Onesimus; we may wade through the commentaries of pro-slavery and anti-slavery writers thereupon,—yet the truth will remain, that an American slave is deemed “a chattel personal,”—”the property of a master to whom he belongs,”—that he is liable to be flogged, sold, and divorced, as the interest, caprice, or spite of his master may dictate.
It may possibly be the case that the denunciatory language which the South has used in speaking of abolitionists, may have “irritated” them, and that, under this irritation, they have manifested more zeal in the cause of emancipation, than they would otherwise have done. Still we deem it undeniable, that if there is any situation on earth in which a man can be placed, which should stir up from its depths, the most active sympathies of the human heart, it is the deplorable situation of an American slave.
If these things are so, how can it be wrong to assist a slave who is making his escape? Surely, to aid the unfortunate is a duty, which no power on earth can legislate into a crime.
But at this late day, the question is forced upon us, whether it is an unfortunate thing for a man to be a slave? This “excites a smile” at the North,—but as this book is destined to be read at the South as well as at the North, we will examine the question a little.
Slavery, we are told, has its bright as well as its dark parts. In southern cities, there is good order, the streets are quiet in the night, and there is an absence of mobs. In that portion of southern society which is under the highest cultivation, the slaves smile, laugh, are happy,—one must see that they are happy. Religion has gained a wonderful ascendency among the colored people. The number of communicants among them is very large. “The only difference between them and us, as to religious instruction is, they cannot generally read.” “As responsibility, anxiety about the present and future, are the chief enemies to cheerfulness, and, among mental causes, to health, it is obvious that if one can have all his present wants supplied, with no care about short crops, the markets, notes payable, bills due, be relieved from the necessity of planning and contriving, all the hard thinking being done for him by another, while useful and honorable employment fills his thoughts and hands, he is so far in a situation favorable to great comfort, which will show itself in his whole outer man. Some will say, ‘This is the lowest kind of happiness.’ Yet it is all that a large portion of the race seek for; and few, except slaves, obtain it.” “If the colored people of Savannah, Columbia, and Richmond, are not, as a whole, a happy people, I,” says the reverend author from whom we quote, “have never seen any.” We are told, indeed, that “Cases illustrating the opposite of almost every agreeable statement now made could also be multiplied; still the things just described are as represented, and he is not in a healthful state of mind, who cannot appreciate them. Our error has been in mixing the dark and bright parts of slavery together. This is wrong. We should never lose sight of distinct moral qualities in character, as we do of different colors in mixing paint. Let us judge slavery in this manner; let us keep her different qualities distinct—abhor that in her which is evil, rejoice in that which is good.”
Damocles sits at the royal banquet, surrounded with gold and silver plate; the table is loaded with delicacies of every kind. “Happy fellow that Damocles,” says Mr. South, “he is in a broad laugh!”
“Yes;” answers Mr. North, “but look—do you not see that glittering sword hanging over his head by a single hair?”
“Never mind the sword,—you are mixing together the bright and the dark. This is wrong. Let us, at present, consider only the dinner. What splendid fare! Judging from the gold and silver plate, from the chaplets of roses, from the handsome pages about him, from the mingled flavors of the roast and the boiled, and from the appetite of Damocles himself, one must see that he is a happy man.”
“If he is happy it is either because he is ignorant of his condition,—or knowing ‘the day of trouble and of treading down,’ he has adopted the philosophy spoken of by the prophet, ‘let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we shall die.’ As happy as Damocles appears, there is the sword,—who would want a good dinner with such an accompaniment?”
“You are wrong. The dinner is good—let us rejoice over that. Damocles fares well. It is a pity that the hungry, dirty, rascally, riotous Celts cannot have just such a dinner every day at the table of Dionysius. Now we will examine the sword a little—but let us handle it gingerly.”
If slavery causes an “absence of mobs,” let slavery have all due credit on that score. Give it joy that it prevented the destruction of Cassius M. Clay’s press, the murder of Lovejoy, the expulsion of Judge Hoar, the lynching of Amos Dresser, and the thousand and one acts of violence and outrage which have caused some unreflecting men to deny that the South is tenanted by a civilized people: more recently that it prevented a mob of armed Missourians from interfering in the Kansas election, and spared the office of the Parkville Luminary. We presume that the absence of mobs of colored persons must have been intended.
A strong police must watch the motions of the oppressed—prevent them from meeting together unless some of the oppressors are present—keep them in their quarters at night, etc. This system of police usually answers its atrocious purpose very well. It wields the lash against offenders, and instils into the oppressed the fear requisite to suppress any overt act toward gaining their rights as human beings. Incidentally, it hinders the commission of crimes, prevents mobs [of colored persons], and keeps the streets quiet, and is so far beneficent in its action. Yet it cannot be denied that the cause of liberty in the world has been much indebted to mobs.
“Oppression driveth a wise man mad.” The oppressed, then, must not be made wise. If they do not know that a laborer can be a free man, the thought of freedom for themselves will not, perhaps, enter their heads. If they can be raised, so ignorant as to believe that slavery is the proper and natural condition of their being,—that they cannot take care of themselves, they will probably, be contented with their lot. The more infantile their minds are suffered to remain, the less will they comprehend the absolute wretchedness of their estate; the less opportunity will they have to learn of lands where all are free,—the less capable will they be of putting forth exertion to resist oppression or to escape from it. The intention of the slave-holders in this respect, seems to be approximately realized. Unaware of the delights of mental cultivation, of the proper growth and expansion of the human soul, many of the oppressed class will appear in good humor and often in a “broad laugh.” The manhood of this portion of the sufferers has not, indeed, been “crushed out of them:”—it has never been developed. They are little children in every thing but bodily maturity. “The slaves in Savannah,” says Patrick Snead, a fugitive slave from that city, “are poor, ignorant creatures,—they do n’t know their condition.”
A class of men retained in the lowest form of bondage, hopeless of any thing higher and better on earth,—at the best dividing their earnings with masters, but more often urged to hard and prolonged labor, through the influence of fear,—incapable of obtaining any degree of cultivation or dignity here below,—will be peculiarly interested in representations of a better life hereafter. A religion which insists on obedience to masters and mistresses, and which inculcates forgiveness of injuries, will find many teachers among those whose domestic cares lessen, and whose profits rise in proportion to the number of proselytes, and whose codes legalize the grossest wrongs: a faith which promises heavenly rewards to humility, obedience, and patience,—which admonishes him that is smitten on one cheek to turn the other also, will find many converts among those who are glad to escape a sense of their indignities and incessant humiliations, by believing that servility itself is a Christian grace. “Suppose a family [of slaves] bound to their master by affection and respect. Whatever he can make appear to their understandings and consciences to be right, he has as much power to enforce upon them as ever falls to the power of moral suasion.” “If the numbers of pious slaves are an indication, it must be confessed that slave-owners, as a body, have performed their Christian duties to their slaves to a degree which the masters of free apprentices and the employers of free laborers have as yet hardly equalled.” What knowledge the slaves have of the Scriptures is obtained by the ear, for “they are generally unable to read.” While we would hope that many among the class of oppressors are faithful in proclaiming the whole counsel of God, it must be admitted that there is a strong temptation on the part of the masters to use the Scriptures mainly as an auxiliary to the overseer.
The South-side View of Slavery says, “The gospel which is preached to them [the slaves], so far as I heard it, is the same gospel which is preached to us.” But the prayers of the slaves [p. 54 and 55] and the hymns they selected, [p. 55] Watts’ Ps. 51, Hymns 139, B. I. and 90, B. II., seem to confirm the view we have presented; while the address of the superintendent of the colored Sabbath school, [p. 85] by no means contradicts it: nor does the hymn sung by slaves [p. 212].
To magnify the benefits which incidentally and casually grow out of the system of slavery, and to represent them as vast enough to sink its direct enormities into comparative insignificance, is, as if a man were to point to an abundant harvest of corn, on the blood-enriched field of Waterloo, as a sufficient reason for involving the world in the horrors of war.
If, as we have said, the slave’s lot is a cruel one,—if, in his best estate, the enslaved American is a man badly educated, and systematically ill-used,—if, by law he is “the property of a master to whom he belongs”—liable to be flogged, sold, and robbed of his wife and children, as the interest, or caprice, or spite of the master may dictate—it appears to us that to assist him if he endeavors to escape from bondage, is a binding duty which not all the constitutions, laws, and sophistries in Christendom can erect into a crime.
But before you render assistance, you should know “whom you are helping and for what reason he has fled.” Perhaps he is running away to get rid of a scolding wife,—or he may be an ungrateful man,—nay, he may be a thief or a murderer.
And where am I to go for information on these points? To his pursuers? They will not tell me the truth. Patrick Snead, a fugitive from Savannah, as white as nine tenths of the men of the north, and not therefore “a fugitive black man,” was arrested on a false charge of murder. Sims and Burns, both “black men,” were kidnapped in Boston on charges of theft. By taking the word of a pursuer, I may “plunge a shipmate into the jaws of a shark.” Proceedings are “summary,”—and by the time I could obtain reliable intelligence, the fugitive might become the victim of an incensed tyrant, whose malice is protected by written atrocities denominated laws. In any particular case, the probabilities are, that the fugitive slave is an innocent man,—a wronged and suffering brother, to hear whose prayer it would be perilous for a Christian to refuse. But if, in one case out of a thousand, it should subsequently appear, that he had committed larceny, or had even “killed an Egyptian,”—it might quiet our consciences to reflect that in judging of a slave’s guilt, allowances ought to be made for the peculiar privations and wrongs, incident to a slave’s life, and on the score of the abject ignorance, to which he has been condemned by an unjust law,—that if the same crime had been perpetrated by a white man, in order to effect his escape from wrongful captivity among Patagonians or Arabs, he would be acquitted both in conscience and law,—and that it were better to aid ten, nay, ten thousand poor, unenlightened, uninstructed creatures to escape hanging, than to incur the tremendous responsibility of consigning an innocent man to a doom worse than death itself.
But even in cases where the fugitives bring proof that they are fleeing from brutal treatment, “no rule was ever made that could determine a man’s duty.” We must “return to the Constitution!” Return to the gospel, rather. “Lord when saw we thee, a stranger, and did not minister unto thee? Then shall he answer them, saying, Verily, I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these ye did it not to me.” Could not an ingenious clergyman manage to construct from this passage a rule to determine a man’s duty in case of a fugitive stranger? To suppose that one on the left hand might urge in reply, “Lord, the least of thy brethren came to my door, hungered, and athirst, a stranger, and naked; it offended my moral sense to have him taken back to involuntary servitude: but there were other interests for moral sense to be concerned about besides those of a fugitive black man. I lived in a Union, under a Constitution, which contained a ‘simple provision’ that he must be delivered up,—and there was a law of the land, which made it penal to minister to thy brother,—and I chose to obey man, rather than to obey God, therefore place me among the sheep.” To suppose that this might be urged in reply, were taking a south-side view of the day of judgment.
A certain man on his way from Jerusalem to Jericho “fell among thieves which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead.” Leaving him! They were quite merciful compared with slave-hunters,—these take man and all. The priest and the Levite saw him but had no compassion on him,—perhaps they wanted to know whom they were helping, before they lent their aid,—or perhaps they had constitutional scruples. But a certain Samaritan put him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn. “Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbor unto him that fell among the thieves? And he said, he that showed mercy on him. Then said JESUS unto him, Go, and do thou likewise.” This is in illustration of the LAW, “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself, “—a LAW rather “HIGHER” than the Blue Ridge, or the Black Code: and considering the source from which it emanated, possibly somewhat higher than any form of Constitution in any human government whatever: nay, than that embodiment of American civilization, that flower of human wisdom, that rarest union of exact justice and gentle mercy, the unconstitutional fugitive slave law. But until the “law of the land” is repealed, all appeals to a “higher law” are “fanaticism!” Let us strive to amend the Constitution, and to repeal the obnoxious statute,—for Constitution, and laws, and the Republic itself must come to nought, if the people subscribe to the doctrine, that the enactments of man, however unjust and abominable, are paramount to the merciful laws of the Most High God.
But with whatever tint of words oppression may be decked: with what zeal soever it may strive to bring a clean thing out of an unclean, and to prove that ignorance and degradation and man-chattelism are productive of happiness to their victims, and pregnant with some immense good in some unknown way to Africa, and to those persons in this country having less or more African blood, and who are of all shades and colors, “from snowy white to sooty;” it is a positive fact, that many thousands have fled from the “happiness” of southern servitude, and found freedom in Canada. From the ties of a common humanity and a common nationality, we feel a deep interest in those exiled men. Why have they left a government which acknowledges that “all men are born free and equal,” and given their allegiance to another which does not recognize so democratic a doctrine? What circumstances have led them to prefer a monarchy to a republic? Why have they exchanged the genial clime of the south for a realm where winter holds half the year? Why have they abandoned friends and kindred, kind masters and mistresses who were willing to take care of them, [wives, children, and home, we would add, were it not that the idea would “excite a smile at the South”] to live a life of exile among strangers? What are their views of the patriarchal institution? Which condition do they find best suited to the African race, or rather to a race partly African, partly Saxon,—slavery or freedom? Should a contest with England arise, would they enlist under the cross of St. George, or under our stars—and stripes? What is their present condition? What are their prospects for the future?
These and similar questions can be most satisfactorily answered by the refugees themselves.
The history of their sufferings and their wrongs, of their bondage and their escape, may excite in some heart hitherto unmoved a glow of sympathy for our colored brother, yet fraudulently deprived of his birthright,—it may furnish the true friends of our country,—the friends of liberty and equal rights,—additional means toward overthrowing the slave power; that scandalous aristocracy which has hitherto been allowed to a great extent to sway the destinies of our nation
The opinions and views of those who have been held in bondage in the United States may enable us to obtain a clearer insight into the nature of American slavery,—may prompt us to perform more energetically than hitherto, our duties to the oppressor and the oppressed,—to the North and to the South,—to the national government, and to the State in which we dwell.
The writer of these pages intends to visit those Americans who have fled from the North and the South into Upper Canada to escape the oppression exercised upon them by their native countrymen. He will assure them that they have the sympathies of many friends in the United States, and advise them that their good conduct and success in life may have an important bearing on the destinies of millions of their brethren, colored and white, in this country, who have the misfortune to be descended from slave mothers. He will endeavor to collect, with a view to placing their testimony on record, their experiences of the actual workings of slavery—what experience they have had of the condition of liberty—and such statements generally as they may be inclined to make, bearing upon the weighty subjects of oppression and freedom.
Objections may be urged to the testimony of the refugees on the score of their ignorance. We may naturally expect errors and mistakes in regard to dates, ages, proceedings at law, and other matters to know which would require an amount of information not vouchsafed to American slaves. But errors of this sort are of secondary consequence, and should rather be imputed to those who have from interest or necessity (the tyrant’s plea) placed their candle under a bushel, that it might not give light to all who were in their house. With this qualification there appears to be no reason why the statements of the colored Canadians should not be received as readily as any human testimony whatever.
If verbal alterations are required care will be taken to preserve the meaning: and if any portion of a narrative is found to trench upon affairs having no connection with slavery, or is likely to involve any good Samaritan in trouble, it will receive no other attention from the writer than to be studiously omitted.
And now we will make the best of our way to Canada. From that point let us survey the institution which entails many “domestic evils deplored by the whites,”—which “impoverishes a State,”—”stays the development of its natural resources,”—is “a great curse”—”a blot on our holy religion,”—”a curse in all its relations of master and servant,” exerting a “bad influence,” says a slaveholder, “upon our passions, upon our children, destroying that sense of moral responsibility which ought to bear upon us:” and let us indulge a hope that the cause of emancipation may receive a new impulse from a NORTH-SIDE VIEW OF SLAVERY.