SALISBURY ROAD,
EDINBURGH, Oct. 30, 1846.
Samuel Hanson Cox,
D. D.:
SIR—I have two objects in addressing you at this time. The
first is, to deny certain charges, and to correct certain injurious statements,
recently made by yourself, respecting my conduct at a meeting of the “World’s
Temperance Convention,” held in Covent Garden Theatre, London, in the month of
August last. My second object will be to review so much of your course as
relates to the Anti-Slavery question, during your recent tour through Great
Britain and a part of Ireland. There are times when it would evince a
ridiculous sensibility to the good or evil opinions of men, and when it would be
a wasteful expenditure of thought, time, and strength, for one in my
circumstances to reply to attacks made by those who hate me more bitterly than
the cause of which I am an humble advocate. While all this is quite true, it is
equally true, that there are times when it is quite proper to make such replies;
and especially so, when to defend one’s self is to defend great and vital
principles, the vindication of which is essential to the triumph of
righteousness throughout the world.
Sir, I deem it neither arrogant nor presumptious to assume
to represent three millions of my brethren, who are, while I am penning these
words, in chains and slavery on the American soil, the boasted land of liberty
and light. I have been one with them in their sorrow and suffering — one with
them in their ignorance and degradation — one with them under the burning sun
and the slave-driver’s bloody lash — and am at this moment freed from those horrible
inflictions, only because the laws of England are commensurate with freedom, and
do not permit the American man-stealer, whose Christianity you endorse, to lay
his foul clutch upon me, while upon British soil. Being thus so completely
identified with the slaves, I may assume that an attack upon me is an attack
upon them — and especially so, when the attack is obviously made, as in the
present instance, with a view to injure me in the advocacy of their cause. I am
resolved that their cause shall not suffer through any misrepresentations of my
conduct, which evil-minded men, in high or low places, may resort to, while I
have the ability to set myself right before the public. As much as I hate
American Slavery, and as much as I abominate the infernal spirit which in that
land seems to pervade both Church and State, there are bright spots there which
I love, and a large and greatly increasing population, whose good opinion 1
highly value, and which I am determined never to forfeit, while it can be
maintained consistently with truth and justice.
Sir, in replying to you, and in singling out the conduct of
one of your age, reputation, and learning, I should, in most cases, deem an
apology necessary — I should approach such an one with great delicacy and
guardedness of language. But, in this instance, I feel entirely relieved from all
such necessity. The obligations of courtesy, which I should otherwise be
forward to discharge to persons of your age and standing, I am absolved from by
your obviously bitter and malignant attack. I come, therefore, without any
further hesitancy, to the subject.
In a letter from London to the New York Evangelist, describing
the great meeting at Covent Garden Theatre, you say:
“They all advocated the same cause, showed a glorious unity
of thought and feeling, and the effect was constantly raised — the moral scene
was superb and glorious — when Frederick Douglass, the colored abolition
agitator and ultraist, came to the platform, and so spoke a la mode, as to ruin the influence, almost, of all that preceded!
He lugged in Anti-Slavery, or Abolition, no doubt prompted to it by some of the
politic ones who can use him to do what they would not themselves adventure to
do in person. He is supposed to have been well paid for the abomination.
“What a perversion, an abuse, an iniquity against the law of
reciprocal righteousness, to call thousands together to get them, some certain
ones, to seem conspicuous and devoted for one sole and grand object, and then,
all at once, with obliquity, open an avalanche on them for some imputed evil or
monstrosity, for which, whatever be the wound or injury inflicted, they were
both too fatigued and too hurried with surprise, and too straitened for time to
be properly prepared. I say it is a trick of meanness! It is abominable!
“On this occasion Mr. Douglass allowed himself to denounce America
and all its temperance societies together, as a grinding community, and the
enemies of his people; said evil, with no alloy of good concerning the whole of
us; was perfectly indiscriminate in his severities; talked of the American
delegates, and to them, as it he had been our schoolmaster, and we his docile
and devoted pupils; and launched his revengeful missiles at our country,
without one palliative, as if not a Christian or a true Anti-Slavery man lived
in the whole of the United States. The fact is, the man has been petted, and
flattered, and used, and paid by certain Abolitionists not unknown to us, of the
ne plus ultra stamp, till he forgets
himself; and though he may gratify his own impulses, and those of old Adam in
others, yet sure I am that all this is just the way to ruin his influence, to
defeat his object, and to do mischief, not good, to the very cause he professes
to love. With the single exception of one cold-hearted parricide, whose
character I abhor, and who has, I fear, no true patriotism or piety within him,
all the delegates from our country were together wounded and indignant. No
wonder at it! I write freely. It was not done in a corner. It was inspired, I
believe, from beneath, and not from above. It was adapted to re-kindle, on both
sides of the Atlantic, the flames of national exasperation and war. And this is
the game which Mr. Frederick Douglass and his silly patrons are playing in
England and in Scotland, and wherever they can find ‘some mischief still for
idle hands to do.’ I came here his sympathizing friend — I am so no more, as I
more know him.
“My own opinion is increasingly that this abominable spirit
must he exorcised out of England and America, before any substantial good can
be effected for the cause of the slave. It is adapted only to make bad worse,
and to inflame the passions of indignant millions to an incurable resentment.
None but an ignoramus or a madman could think that this was the way of the
inspired apostles of the Son of God. It may gratify the feelings of a
self-deceived and malignant few, but it will do no good in any direction — least
of all to the poor slave ! It is short-sighted, impulsive, partisan, reckless,
and tending only to sanguinary ends. None of this, with men of sense and
principle.
“We all wanted to reply, but it was too late; the Whole
theatre seemed taken with the spirit of the Ephesian uproar; they were furious
and boisterous in the extreme; and Mr. Kirk could hardly obtain a moment,
though many were desirous in his behalf, to say a few words, as he did, very
calmly and properly, that the cause of temperance was not at all responsible
for Slavery, and had no connection with it. There were some sly agencies behind
the scenes — we know!”
Now the motive for representing, in this connection, “the effect
constantly raised,” the “moral scene sublime and glorious,” is very apparent.
It is obviously not so much to do justice to the scene, as to magnify my
assumed offence You have draw an exceedingly beautiful picture, that you might
represent me as roaming and defacing its beauty, in the hope thereby to kindle
against me the fury of its admirers.
“Frederick Douglass, the colored Abolitionist and ultraist,
came to the platform.” Well, sir, what if I did come to the platform? How did I
come to it? Did I come with or without the consent of the meeting? Had your
love of truth equalled your desire to cover me with odium, you would have said,
that after loud and repeated calls from the audience, and a very pressing
invitation from the chairman “Frederick Douglass came to the platform.” But,
sir, this would not have served your purpose — that being to make me out an
intruder, one without the wedding garment, fit to be cast out among the
unbidden and unprepared. This might do very well in America, where for a negro
to stand upon a temperance platform, on terms of perfect equality with white
persons, it would be regarded as an insolent assumption, not to be borne with;
but, sir, it is scarcely necessary to say, that it will not serve your purpose
in England. It is now pretty well known throughout the world that colour is no
crime in England, and it is becoming almost equally known, that colour is
treated as a crime in America. “ Frederick
Douglass, the coloured abolition agitator and ultraist, came to the platform!”
Shocking! How could democratic Americans sit calmly by, and behold such a
flagrant violation of one of the most cherished American customs — this most
unnatural amalgamation! Was it not an aggravating and intolerable insult, to
allow a negro to stand upon a platform, on terms of perfect equality with pure
white American gentlemen! Monarchical England should be taught better manners;
she should know that democratic America has the sole prerogative of deciding
what shall be the social and civil position of the coloured race. But, sarcasm
aside, sir, you claim to be a Christian, a philanthropist, and an Abolitionist.
Were you truly entitled to any one of these names, you would have been
delighted at seeing one of Afric’s despised children cordially received, and
warmly welcomed, to a world's temperance platform, and in every way treated as
a man and a brother. But the truth probably is, that you felt both yourself and
your county severely rebuked by my presence there; and, besides this, it was
undoubtedly painful to you to be placed on the same platform, on a level with a
negro, a fugitive slave. I do not assert this positively—it may not be quite
true. But if it be true, I sincerely pity your littleness of soul.
You sneeringly call me an “abolition agitator and ultraist.” Sir, I regard this as a
compliment, though you intend it as a condemnation. My only fear is, that I am
unworthy of those epithets. To be an abolition agitator, is simply to be one
who dares to think for himself — who goes beyond the mass of mankind in
promoting the cause of righteousness — who honestly and earnestly speaks out his
soul’s conviction, regardless of the smiles or frowns of men — leaving the pure
flame of truth to burn up whatever hay, womb and stubble, it may find in its
way. To be such an one is the deepest and sincerest wish of my heart. It is a
part of my daily prayer to God, that he will raise up and send forth more to
unmask a pro-slavery church, and to rebuke a man-stealing ministry — to rock
the land with agitation, and give America no peace till she repent, and be
thoroughly purged of this monstrous iniquity. While heaven lends me health and
strength, and intellectual ability, I shall devote myself to this agitation;
and I believe that by so acting, I shall secure the smiles of an approving God,
and the grateful approbation of my down-trodden and long-abused
fellow-countrymen. With these on my side, of course I ought not to be disturbed
by your displeasure; nor am I disturbed. I speak now in vindication of my
cause, caring very little for your good or ill opinion.
You say I spoke so as to ruin the influence of all that had
preceded! My speech, then, must have been very powerful; for I had been
preceded by yourself, and some ten or twelve others, all powerful advocates of
the temperance cause, some of them the most so of any I ever heard. But I half
fear my speech was not so powerful as you seem to imagine. It is barely
possible that you have fallen into a mistake, quite common to persons of your
turn of mind — that of confounding your own pride with the cause you may happen
to plead. I think you will, upon reflection, confess that I have now hit upon a
happy solution of the difficulty. As I look back to that occasion, I remember
certain facts, which seem to confirm me in this view of the case. You had
eulogized in no measured or qualified terms, America and American temperance
societies; and in this your co-delegates were not a whit behind you. Is it not
possible that the applause, following each brilliant climax of I your fulsome
panegyric, made you feel the moral effect raised, and the scene superb and
glorious? I am not unaware of' the effect of such demonstrations; it is very
intoxicating, very inflating. Now, sir, I should be very sorry, and I would
make any amends within my power, if I supposed I had really committed the “abomination” of which you accuse me. The
temperance cause is dear to me. I love it for myself, and for the black man, as
well as for the white man. I have labored both in England and America to
promote the cause, and am ready still to labor; and I should grieve to think of
any act of mine which would inflict the slightest injury upon the cause. But I
am satisfied that no such injury was inflicted. No, sir, it was not the poor
bloated drunkard who was “ruined” by my speech, but your own bloated pride, as
I shall presently show — as 1 mean to take up your letter in the order in which
it is written, and reply to each part of it.
You say I lugged in
Anti-Slavery, or Abolition. Of course you meant by this to produce the
impression, that I introduced the subject illegitimately. If such were your intention,
it is an impression utterly at variance with the truth. 1 said nothing, on the
occasion referred to, which in fairness can be construed into an outrage upon
propriety, or something foreign to the temperance platform — and especially a “world's temperance platform.” The
meeting at Covent Garden was not a white temperance meeting, such as are held
in the United States, but a “World's Temperance meeting,” embracing the black
as well as the white part of the creation — practically carrying out the
scriptural declaration, that “God has made of one blood, all nations of men, to
dwell on all the face of the earth.” It was a meeting for promoting temperance
throughout the world. All nations had a right to be represented there; and each
speaker had a right to make known to that body, the peculiar difficulties which
lay in the way of the temperance reformation, in his own particular locality.
In that Convention, and upon that platform, I was the recognized representative
of the colored population of the United States; and to their cause I was bound
to be faithful. It would have been quite easy for me to have made a speech upon
the general question of temperance, carefully excluding all reference to my
enslaved, neglected, and persecuted brethren in America, and thereby secured
your applause; but to have pursued such a course would have been selling my
birthright for a mess of portage — would have been to play the part of Judas, a
part which even you profess to loathe and detest. Sir, let me explain the
motive which animated me, in speaking as I did at Covent Garden Theatre. As I
stood upon that platform, and surveyed the deep depression of the colored
people of America, and the treatment uniformly adopted by white temperance
societies towards them — the impediments and absolute barriers thrown in the
way of their moral and social improvement, by American Slavery, and by an
inveterate prejudice against them on account of their color — and beheld them
in rags and wretchedness, in fetters and chains, left to lie devoured by
intemperance and kindred vices — and Slavery, like a very demon, standing
directly in the way of their reformation, as with a drawn sword, ready to smite
down any who might approach for their deliverance — and found myself in a
position where I could rebuke this evil spirit, where my words would be borne
to the shores of America, upon the enthusiastic shouts of congregated thousands
— I deemed it my duty to embrace the opportunity. In the language of John Knox,
“I was in the place where I was demanded of conscience to speak the truth — and
the truth I did speak — impugn it who so list.” But, in so doing, I spoke
perfectly in order, and in such a manner as no one, having a sincere interest
in the cause of temperance, could take offence at — as I shall show by
reporting, in another part of this letter, my speech as delivered on that
occasion.
“He was, no doubt, prompted to do it by, some of the politic
ones, who can use him to do what they themselves would not adventure to do in
person.” The right or wrong of obeying the prompting of another, depends upon
the character of the thing to be done. If the thing be right, I should do it, no
matter by whom prompted; if wrong, I should refrain-from it, no matter by whom
commanded. In the present instance, I was prompted by no one I acted entirely
upon my own responsibility. If, therefore, blame is to fall anywhere, it should
fall upon me.
“He is supposed to have been well paid for the abomination.”
This, sir, is a cowardly way of stating your own conjecture. I should be
pleased to have you tell me, what harm there is in being well paid! Is not the
labourer worthy of his hire? Do you preach without pay? Were you not paid by
those who sent you to represent them in the World’s Temperance Convention?
There is not the slightest doubt that you were paid — and well paid. The only
difference between us, in the matter of pay, is simply this — you were paid,
and I was not. I can, with a clear conscience, affirm, that, so far from having
been well paid, as you suppose, I never received a single farthing for my
attendance— or for any word which I uttered on the occasion referred to — while
you were, in all probability, well supported, “well paid,” for all you did
during your attendance. My visit to London was at my own cost. I mention this,
not because I blame you for taking pay, or because I regard as specially
meritorious my attending the meeting without pay; for I should probably have
taken pay as readily as you did, had it been offered; but it was not offered,
and therefore I got none.
You stigmatize my speech as an “abomination;” but you take
good care to suppress every word of the speech itself. There can be but one
motive for this, and that motive obviously is, because there was nothing in the
speech which, standing alone, would inspire others with the bitter malignity
against me, which unhappily rankles in your own bosom.
Now, sir, to show the public how much reliance ought to be
placed on your statements, and what estimate they should form of your love of
truth and Christian candor, I will give the substance of my speech at Covent Garden
Theatre, and the circumstances attending and growing out of its delivery. As “the
thing was not done in a corner,” I can with safety appeal to the FIVE THOUSAND
that heard the speech, for the substantial correctness of my report of it. It
was as follows:—
“Mr. Chairman — Ladies and Gentlemen — I am not a delegate
to this Convention. Those who would have been most likely to elect me as a
delegate, could not, because they are to-nigbt held in the most abject Slavery
in the United States. Sir, I regret that I cannot fully unite with the American
delegates, in their patriotic eulogies of America, and American temperance
societies. I cannot do so, for this good reason — there are, at this moment,
three millions of the American population, by Slavery and prejudice, placed
entirely beyond the pale of American temperance societies. The three million
slaves are completely excluded by Slavery — and four hundred thousand free
coloured people are, almost as completely excluded by an inveterate prejudice
against them, on account of their colour. (Cries of shame! shame!)
“I do not say these things to wound the feelings of the
American delegates. I simply mention them in their presence, and before this
audience, that, seeing how you regard this hatred and neglect of the coloured
people, they maybe inclined, on their return home, to enlarge the field of
their temperance operations, and embrace within the scope of their influence,
my long neglected race — (great cheering and some confusion on the platform.)
Sir, to give you some idea of the difficulties and obstacles in the way of the
temperance reformation of the coloured population in the United States, allow
me to state a few facts. About the year, 1840, a few intelligent, sober, and
benevolent coloured gentlemen in Philadelphia, being acquainted with the
appalling ravages of intemperance among a numerous class of coloured people in
that city, and finding themselves neglected and excluded from white societies,
organized societies among themselves — appointed committees — sent out agents —
built temperance halls, and were earnestly and successfully rescuing many from
the fangs of intemperance.
“The cause went nobly on till the 1st of August, 1842, the
day when England gave liberty to eight hundred thousand souls in the West
Indies. The coloured temperance societies selected this day to march in
procession through the city, in the hope that such a demonstration would have
the effect of bringing others into their ranks. They formed their procession,
unfurled their teetotal banners, and proceeded to the accomplishment of their purpose.
It was a delightful sight. But, sir, they had not proceeded down two streets,
before they were brutally assailed by a ruthless mob — their banner was torn
down and trampled in the dust — their ranks broken up, their persons beaten,
and pelted with stones and brickbats. One of their churches was burned to the
ground, and their best temperance hall utterly demolished.” Shame! shame! shame!
from the audience — great confusion and cries of “sit down,” from the American-
delegates on the platform.
In the midst of this commotion, the chairman tapped me on the
shoulder, and whispering, informed me that the fifteen minutes allotted to each
speaker had expired; whereupon the vast audience simultaneously shouted — “Don’t
interrupt! don’t dictate ! go on! go on! Douglass! Douglass!” This continued
several minutes; after which, I proceeded as follows :—
“Kind friends, I beg to assure you that the chairman has
not, in the slightest degree, sought to alter any sentiment which I am anxious
to express on the present occasion. He was simply reminding me, that the time
allotted for me to speak had expired. I do not wish to occupy one moment more
than is allotted to other speakers Thanking you for your kind indulgence, I
will take my seat.”
Proceeding to do so, again there were loud cries of “go on!
go on!” with which I complied, for a few moments, but without saying anything
more that particularly related to the coloured people of America.
When I sat down, the Rev. Mr. Kirk, of Boston, rose, and
said: “Frederick Douglass has unintentionally misrepresented the temperance
societies of America. I am afraid that his remarks have produced the impression
on the public mind, that the temperance societies support slavery — (“No! no!
no ! no!” shouted the audience.) If that be not the impression produced, I have
nothing more to say.”
Now, Dr. Cox, this is a fair, unvarnished story of what took
place at Covent Garden Theatre, on the 7th of August, 1846. For the truth of
it, I appeal to all the temperance papers in the land, and the “Journal of the
American Union,” published at New — York, Oct. 1, 1846. With this statement, I
might safely submit the Whole question to both the American and British Public;
but I wish not merely to correct your misrepresentations, and expose your falsehoods,
but to show, that you are animated by a fierce, bitter, and untruthful Spirit
towards the whole Anti-Slavery movement.
And for this purpose, I shall now proceed to copy and
comment upon extracts from your letter to the New York Evangelist. In that
letter, you exclaim, respecting the foregoing speech, delivered by me, every
word of which you take pains to omit: “ What a perversion, an abuse, an iniquity
against the reciprocal law of righteousness, to call thousands together, and
get them, some certain ones, to seem conspicuous and devoted for one-sole and
grand object, and then, all at once, with obliquity, open an avalanche on them,
for some imputed evil or monstrosity, for which, whatever he the wound or the
injury inflicted, they were both too fatigued and too hurried with surprise,
and too straitened for time, to' be properly prepared. I say it is a trick of meanness!
It is abominable!”
As to the “perversion,”, “abuse,” “iniquity against the law of
reciprocal righteousness,” “obliquity,” “a trick of meanness,” “abominable,” — not
one word is necessary to show their inappropriateness, as applied to myself,
and the speech in question, or to make more glaringly apparent the green and
poisonous venom with which your mouth, if not your heart, is filled. You
represent me as opening “an avalanche upon you for some imputed evil or
animosity.” And is Slavery only an imputed evil? Now, suppose I had lugged in
Anti-Slavery, (which I deny,) you profess to be an Abolitionist. You,
therefore, ought to have been the last man in the world to have found fault
with me, on that account. Your great love of liberty, and sympathy for the
down-trodden slave, ought to have led you to “pardon something to the spirit of
Liberty,” especially in one who had the scars of the slave-driver’s whip on his
back, and who, at this moment, has four sisters and one brother in slavery.
But, sir, you are not an Abolitionist, and you only assumed to be one during
your recent tour in this country, that you might sham your way through this
land, and the more effectually stab and blast the character of the real friends
of emancipation. Who ever heard of a true Abolitionist speaking of slavery as
an “imputed evil,” or complaining of being “wounded and injured” by an allusion
to it — and that, too, because that allusion was in opposition to the infernal
system? You took no offence when the Rev. Mr. Kirk assumed the Christian name
and character for slaveholders in the World’s Temperance Convention. You were
not “wounded or injured,” it was not a “perversion, an abuse, an iniquity
against the reciprocal law of righteousness.” You have no indignation to pour
out upon him. Oh, no! But when a fugitive slave merely alluded to slavery, as
obstructing the moral and social improvement of his race, you were “wounded and
injured,” and rendered indignant! This, sir, tells the whole story of your
abolitionism, and stamps your pretensions to abolition as brazen hypocrisy or
self-deception.
You were “too fatigued, too hurried by surprise, too straitened
for time.” Why, sir, you were in “an unhappy predicament.” What would you have
done, had you not been “too fatigued, too hurried by surprise, too straitened
for time,” and unprepared? Would you have denied a. single statement in my
address? I am persuaded you would not; and had you dared to do so, I could at
once have given evidence in support of my statements, that would have put you
to silence or to shame. My statements were in perfect accordance with
historical facts — facts of so recent date, that they are fresh in the memory
of every intelligent American. You knew I spoke truly of the strength of
American prejudice against the coloured people. No man knows the truth on this
subject better than yourself. I am, therefore; filled with amazement that you
should seem to deny, instead of confirming; my statements.
Much more might be said on this point; but having already extended
this letter to a much greater length than I had intended, I shall simply
conclude by a reference to your remark respecting your professed sympathy and
friendship for me, previous to the meeting at Covent Garden. If your friendship
and sympathy be of so mutable a character as must be inferred from your sudden abandonment
of them, I may expect that yet another change will return me the lost treasure.
At all events, I do not deem it of sufficient value to purchase it at so high a
price as that of the abandonment of the cause of my coloured brethren, which appears
to be the condition you impose upon its continuance.
Very faithfully,
FREDERICK DOUGLASS.
SOURCE: American Anti-Slavery Society, Correspondence between the Rev. Samuel H. Cox, D. D., of Brooklyn, L.
I. and Frederick Douglass, a Fugitive Slave, p. 7-16
