Showing posts with label Quakers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Quakers. Show all posts

Sunday, February 25, 2024

Henry David Thoreau: A Plea for Captain John Brown,* October 30, 1859

I TRUST that you will pardon me for being here. I do not wish to force my thoughts upon you, but I feel forced myself. Little as I know of Captain Brown, I would fain do my part to correct the tone and the statements of the newspapers, and of my countrymen generally, respecting his character and actions. It costs us nothing to be just. We can at least express our sympathy with, and admiration of, him and his companions, and that is what I now propose to do.

First, as to his history. I will endeavor to omit, as much as possible, what you have already read. I need not describe his person to you, for probably most of you have seen and will not soon forget him. I am told that his grandfather, John Brown, was an officer in the Revolution; that he himself was born in Connecticut about the beginning of this century, but early went with his father to Ohio. I heard him say that his father was a contractor who furnished beef to the army there, in the war of 1812; that he accompanied him to the camp, and assisted him in that employment, seeing a good deal of military life, more, perhaps, than if he had been a soldier, for he was often present at the councils of the officers. Especially, he learned by experience how armies are supplied and maintained in the field—a work which, he observed, requires at least as much experience and skill as to lead them in battle. He said that few persons had any conception of the cost, even the pecuniary cost, of firing a single bullet in war. He saw enough, at any rate, to disgust him with a military life; indeed, to excite in him a great abhorrence of it; so much so, that though he was tempted by the offer of some petty office in the army, when he was about eighteen, he not only declined that, but he also refused to train when warned, and was fined for it. He then resolved that he would never have any thing to do with any war, unless it were a war for liberty.

When the troubles in Kansas began, he sent several of his sons thither to strengthen the party of the Free State men, fitting them out with such weapons as he had; telling them that if the troubles should increase, and there should be need of him, he would follow to assist them with his hand and counsel. This, as you all know, he soon after did; and it was through his agency, far more than any other's, that Kansas was made free.

For a part of his life he was a surveyor, and at one time he was engaged in wool-growing, and he went to Europe as an agent about that business. There, as every where, he had his eyes about him, and made many original observations. He said, for instance, that he saw why the soil of England was so rich, and that of Germany (I think it was) so poor, and he thought of writing to some of the crowned heads about it. It was because in England the peasantry live on the soil which they cultivate, but in Germany they are gathered into villages, at night. It is a pity that he did not make a book of his observations.

I should say that he was an old-fashioned man in his respect for the Constitution, and his faith in the permanence of this Union. Slavery he deemed to be wholly opposed to these, and he was its determined foe.

He was by descent and birth a New England farmer, a man of great common sense, deliberate and practical as that class is, and tenfold more so. He was like the best of those who stood at Concord Bridge once, on Lexington Common, and on Bunker Hill, only he was firmer and higher principled than any that I have chanced to hear of as there. It was no abolition lecturer that converted him. Ethan Allen and Stark, with whom he may in some respects be compared, were rangers in a lower and less important field. They could bravely face their country's foes, but he had the courage to face his country herself, when she was in the wrong. A Western writer says, to account for his escape from so many perils, that he was concealed under a "rural exterior;" as if, in that prairie land, a hero should, by good rights, wear a citizen's dress only.

He did not go to the college called Harvard, good old Alma Mater as she is. He was not fed on the pap that is there furnished. As he phrased it, "I know no more of grammar than one of your calves." But he went to the great university of the West, where he sedulously pursued the study of Liberty, for which he had early betrayed a fondness, and having taken many degrees, he finally commenced the public practice of Humanity in Kansas, as you all know. Such were his humanities, and not any study of grammar. He would have left a Greek accent slanting the wrong way, and righted up a falling man.

He was one of that class of whom we hear a great deal, but, for the most part, see nothing at all—the Puritans. It would be in vain to kill him. He died lately in the time of Cromwell, but he reappeared here. Why should he not? Some of the Puritan stock are said to have come over and settled in New England. They were a class that did something else than celebrate their forefathers' day, and eat parched corn in remembrance of that time. They were neither Democrats nor Republicans, but men of simple habits, straightforward, prayerful; not thinking much of rulers who did not fear God, not making many compromises, nor seeking after available candidates.

"In his camp," as one has recently written, and as I have myself heard him state, "he permitted no profanity; no man of loose morals was suffered to remain there, unless, indeed, as a prisoner of war. 'I would rather,' said he, ‘have the small-pox, yellow fever, and cholera, all together in my camp, than a man without principle. * * * It is a mistake, sir, that our people make, when they think that bullies are the best fighters, or that they are the fit men to oppose these Southerners. Give me men of good principles,—God-fearing men,—men who respect themselves, and with a dozen of them I will oppose any hundred such men as these Buford ruffians.'" He said that if one offered himself to be a soldier under him, who was forward to tell what he could or would do, if he could only get sight of the enemy, he had but little confidence in him.

He was never able to find more than a score or so of recruits whom he would accept, and only about a dozen, among them his sons, in whom he had perfect faith. When he was here, some years ago, he showed to a few a little manuscript book, his "orderly book " I think he called it, containing the names of his company in Kansas, and the rules by which they bound themselves; and he stated that several of them had already sealed the contract with their blood. When some one remarked that, with the addition of a chaplain, it would have been a perfect Cromwellian troop, he observed that he would have been glad to add a chaplain to the list, if he could have found one who could fill that office worthily. It is easy enough to find one for the United States army. I believe that he had prayers in his camp morning and evening, nevertheless.

He was a man of Spartan habits, and at sixty was scrupulous about his diet at your table, excusing himself by saying that he must eat sparingly and fare hard, as became a soldier or one who was fitting himself for difficult enterprises, a life of exposure.

A man of rare common sense and directness of speech, as of action; a transcendentalist above all, a man of ideas and principles, that was what distinguished him. Not yielding to a whim or transient impulse, but carrying out the purpose of a life. I noticed that he did not overstate any thing, but spoke within bounds. I remember, particularly, how, in his speech here, he referred to what his family had suffered in Kansas, without ever giving the least vent to his pent-up fire. It was a volcano with an ordinary chimney-flue. Also referring to the deeds of certain Border Ruffians, he said, rapidly paring away his speech, like an experienced soldier, keeping a reserve of force and meaning, "They had a perfect right to be hung." He was not in the least a rhetorician, was not talking to Buncombe or his constituents any where, had no need to invent any thing, but to tell the simple truth, and communicate his own resolution; therefore he appeared incomparably strong, and eloquence in Congress and elsewhere seemed to me at a discount. It was like the speeches of Cromwell compared with those of an ordinary king.

As for his tact and prudence, I will merely say, that at a time when scarcely a man from the Free States was able to reach Kansas by any direct route, at least without having his arms taken from him, he, carrying what imperfect guns and other weapons he could collect, openly and slowly drove an ox-cart through Missouri, apparently in the capacity of a surveyor, with his surveying compass exposed in it, and so passed unsuspected, and had ample opportunity to learn the designs of the enemy. For some time after his arrival he still followed the same profession. When, for instance, he saw a knot of the ruffians on the prairie, discussing, of course, the single topic which then occupied their minds, he would, perhaps, take his compass and one of his sons, and proceed to run an imaginary line right through the very spot on which that conclave had assembled, and when he came up to them, he would naturally pause and have some talk with them, learning their news, and, at last, all their plans perfectly; and having thus completed his real survey, he would resume his imaginary one, and run on his line till he was out of sight.

When I expressed surprise that he could live in Kansas at all, with a price set upon his head, and so large a number, including the authorities, exasperated against him, he accounted for it by saying, "It is perfectly well understood that I will not be taken." Much of the time for some years he has had to skulk in swamps, suffering from poverty and from sickness, which was the consequence of exposure, befriended only by Indians and a few whites. But though it might be known that he was lurking in a particular swamp, his foes commonly did not care to go in after him. He could even come out into a town where there were more Border Ruffians than Free State men, and transact some business, without delaying long, and yet not be molested; for said he, "No little handful of men were willing to undertake it, and a large body could not be got together in season."

As for his recent failure, we do not know the facts about it. It was evidently far from being a wild and desperate attempt. His enemy, Mr. Vallandingham, is compelled to say, that “it was among the best planned and executed conspiracies that ever failed."

Not to mention his other successes, was it a failure, or did it show a want of good management, to deliver from bondage a dozen human beings, and walk off with them by broad daylight, for weeks if not months, at a leisurely pace, through one State after another, for half the length of the North, conspicuous to all parties, with a price set upon his head, going into a court room on his way and telling what he had done, thus convincing Missouri that it was not profitable to try to hold slaves in his neighborhood?—and this, not because the government menials were lenient, but because they were afraid of him.

Yet he did not attribute his success, foolishly, to "his star," or to any magic. He said, truly, that the reason why such greatly superior numbers quailed before him, was, as one of his prisoners confessed, because they lacked a cause a kind of armor which he and his party never lacked. When the time came, few men were found willing to lay down their lives in defence of what they knew to be wrong; they did not like that this should be their last act in this world.

But to make haste to his last act, and its effects.

The newspapers seem to ignore, or perhaps are really ignorant of the fact, that there are at least as many as two or three individuals to a town throughout the North, who think much as the present speaker does about him and his enterprise. I do not hesitate to say that they are an important and growing party. We aspire to be something more than stupid and timid chattels, pretending to read history and our Bibles, but desecrating every house and every day we breathe in. Perhaps anxious politicians may prove that only seventeen white men and five negroes were concerned in the late enterprise; but their very anxiety to prove this might suggest to themselves that all is not told. Why do they still dodge the truth? They are so anxious because of a dim consciousness of the fact, which they do not distinctly face, that at least a million of the free inhabitants of the United States would have rejoiced if it had succeeded. They at most only criticise the tactics. Though we wear no crape, the thought of that man's position and probable fate is spoiling many a man's day here at the North for other thinking. If any one who has seen him here can pursue successfully any other train of thought, I do not know what he is made of. If there is any such who gets his usual allowance of sleep, I will warrant him to fatten easily under any circumstances which do not touch his body or purse. I put a piece of paper and a pencil under my pillow, and when I could not sleep, I wrote in the dark.

On the whole, my respect for my fellow-men, except as one may outweigh a million, is not being increased these days. I have noticed the cold-blooded way in which newspaper writers and men generally speak of this event, as if an ordinary malefactor, though one of unusual "pluck,” as the Governor of Virginia is reported to have said, using the language of the cock-pit, "the gamest man he ever saw," — had been caught, and were about to be hung. He was not dreaming of his foes when the governor thought he looked so brave. It turns what sweetness I have to gall, to hear, or hear of, the remarks of some of my neighbors. When we heard at first that he was dead, one of my townsmen observed that “he died as the fool dieth;" which, pardon me, for an instant suggested a likeness in him dying to my neighbor living. Others, craven-hearted, said disparagingly, that "he threw his life away," because he resisted the government. Which way have they thrown their lives, pray?—Such as would praise a man for attacking singly an ordinary band of thieves or murderers. I hear another ask, Yankee-like, "What will he gain by it?" as if he expected to fill his pockets by this enterprise. Such a one has no idea of gain but in this worldly sense. If it does not lead to a "surprise" party, if he does not get a new pair of boots, or a vote of thanks, it must be a failure. "But he won't gain any thing by it." Well, no, I don't suppose he could get four-and-sixpence a day for being hung, take the year round; but then he stands a chance to save a considerable part of his soul and such a soul!—when you do not. No doubt you can get more in your market for a quart of milk than for a quart of blood, but that is not the market that heroes carry their blood to.

Such do not know that like the seed is the fruit, and that, in the moral world, when good seed is planted, good fruit is inevitable, and does not depend on our watering and cultivating; that when you plant, or bury, a hero in his field, a crop of heroes is sure to spring up. This is a seed of such force and vitality, that it does not ask our leave to germinate.

The momentary charge at Balaclava, in obedience to a blundering command, proving what a perfect machine the soldier is, has, properly enough, been celebrated by a poet laureate; but the steady, and for the most part successful charge of this man, for some years, against the legions of Slavery, in obedience to an infinitely higher command, is as much more memorable than that, as an intelligent and conscientious man is superior to a machine. Do you think that that will go unsung?

"Served him right" — "A dangerous man" — "He is undoubtedly insane." So they proceed to live their sane, and wise, and altogether admirable lives, reading their Plutarch a little, but chiefly pausing at that feat of Putnam, who was let down into a wolf's den; and in this wise they nourish themselves for brave and patriotic deeds some time or other. The Tract Society could afford to print that story of Putnam. You might open the district schools with the reading of it, for there is nothing about Slavery or the Church in it; unless it occurs to the reader that some pastors are wolves in sheep's clothing. "The American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions" even, might dare to protest against that wolf. I have heard of boards, and of American boards, but it chances that I never heard of this particular lumber till lately. And yet I hear of Northern men, women, and children, by families, buying a "life membership" in such societies as these; a life-membership in the grave! You can get buried cheaper than that.

Our foes are in our midst and all about us. There is hardly a house but is divided against itself, for our foe is the all but universal woodenness of both head and heart, the want of vitality in man, which is the effect of our vice; and hence are begotten fear, superstition, bigotry, persecution, and slavery of all kinds. We are mere figure-heads upon a hulk, with livers in the place of hearts. The curse is the worship of idols, which at length changes the worshipper into a stone image himself; and the New Englander is just as much an idolater as the Hindoo. This man was an exception, for he did not set up even a political graven image between him and his God.

A church that can never have done with excommunicating Christ while it exists! Away with your broad and flat churches, and your narrow and tall churches! Take a step forward, and invent a new style of out-houses. Invent a salt that will save you, and defend our nostrils.

Christian is a man who has consented to say all the prayers in the liturgy, provided you will let him go straight to bed and sleep quietly afterward. All his prayers begin with "Now I lay me down to sleep," and he is forever looking forward to the time when he shall go to his "long rest." He has consented to perform certain old established charities, too, after a fashion, but he does not wish to hear of any new-fangled ones; he doesn't wish to have any supplementary articles added to the contract, to fit it to the present time. He shows the whites of his eyes on the Sabbath, and the blacks all the rest of the week. The evil is not merely a stagnation of blood, but a stagnation of spirit. Many, no doubt, are well disposed, but sluggish by constitution and by habit, and they cannot conceive of a man who is actuated by higher motives than they are. Accordingly they pronounce this man insane, for they know that they could never act as he does, as long as they were themselves.

We dream of foreign countries, of other times and races of men, placing them at a distance in history or space; but let some significant event like the present occur in our midst, and we discover, often, this distance and this strangeness between us and our nearest neighbors. They are our Austrias, and Chinas, and South Sea Islands. Our crowded society becomes well spaced all at once, clean and handsome to the eye, a city of magnificent distances. We discover why it was that we never got beyond compliments and surfaces with them before; we become aware of as many versts between us and them as there are between a wandering Tartar and a Chinese town. The thoughtful man becomes a hermit in the thoroughfares of the market-place. Impassable seas suddenly find their level between us, or dumb steppes stretch themselves out there. It is the difference of constitution, of intelligence, and faith, and not streams and mountains, that make the true and impassable boundaries between individuals and between states. None but the like-minded can come plenipotentiary to our court.

I read all the newspapers I could get within a week after this event, and I do not remember in them a single expression of sympathy for these men. I have since seen one noble statement, in a Boston paper, not editorial. Some voluminous sheets decided not to print the full report of Brown's words to the exclusion of other matter. It was as if a publisher should reject the manuscript of the New Testament, and print Wilson's last speech. The same journal which contained this pregnant news, was chiefly filled, in parallel columns, with the reports of the political conventions that were being held. But the descent to them was too steep. They should have been spared this contrast, been printed in an extra at least. To turn from the voices and deeds of earnest men to the cackling of political conventions! Office-seekers and speech-makers, who do not so much as lay an honest egg, but wear their breasts bare upon an egg of chalk! Their great game is the game of straws, or rather that universal aboriginal game of the platter, at which the Indians cried hub, bub! Exclude the reports of religious and political conventions, and publish the words of a living man.

But I object not so much to what they have omitted, as to what they have inserted. Even the Liberator called it "a misguided, wild, and apparently insane-effort." As for the herd of newspapers and magazines, I do not chance to know an editor in the country who will deliberately print any thing which he knows will ultimately and permanently reduce the number of his subscribers. They do not believe that it would be expedient. How then can they print truth? If we do not say pleasant things, they argue, nobody will attend to us. And so they do like some travelling auctioneers, who sing an obscene song in order to draw a crowd around them. Republican editors, obliged to get their sentences ready for the morning edition, and accustomed to look at every thing by the twilight of politics, express no admiration, nor true sorrow even, but call these men "deluded fanatics" — "mistaken men" "insane," or "crazed." It suggests what a sane set of editors we are blessed with, not "mistaken men"; who know very well on which side their bread is buttered, at least.

A man does a brave and humane deed, and at once, on all sides, we hear people and parties declaring, "I didn't do it, nor countenance him to do it, in any conceivable way. It can't be fairly inferred from my past career." I, for one, am not interested to hear you define your position. I don't know that I ever was, or ever shall be. I think it is mere egotism, or impertinent at this time. Ye needn't take so much pains to wash your skirts of him. No intelligent man will ever be convinced that he was any creature of yours. He went and came, as he himself informs us, "under the auspices of John Brown and nobody else." The Republican party does not perceive how many his failure will make to vote more correctly than they would have them. They have counted the votes of Pennsylvania & Co., but they have not correctly counted Captain Brown's vote. He has taken the wind out of their sails, the little wind they had, and they may as well lie to and repair.

What though he did not belong to your clique! Though you may not approve of his method or his principles, recognize his magnanimity. Would you not like to claim kindredship with him in that, though in no other thing he is like, or likely, to you? Do you think that you would lose your reputation so? What you lost at the spile, you would gain at the bung.

If they do not mean all this, then they do not speak the truth, and say what they mean. They are simply at their old tricks still.

"It was always conceded to him," says one who calls him crazy, "that he was a conscientious man, very modest in his demeanor, apparently inoffensive, until the subject of Slavery was introduced, when he would exhibit a feeling of indignation unparalleled."

The slave-ship is on her way, crowded with its dying victims; new cargoes are being added in mid ocean; a small crew of slaveholders, countenanced by a large body of passengers, is smothering four millions under the hatches, and yet the politician asserts that the only proper way by which deliverance is to be obtained, is by "the quiet diffusion of the sentiments of humanity," without any "outbreak." As if the sentiments of humanity were ever found unaccompanied by its deeds, and you could disperse them, all finished to order, the pure article, as easily as water with a watering-pot, and so lay the dust. What is that that I hear cast overboard?

The bodies of the dead that have found deliverance. That is the way we are "diffusing" humanity, and its sentiments with it.

Prominent and influential editors, accustomed to deal with politicians, men of an infinitely lower grade, say, in their ignorance, that he acted "on the principle of revenge." They do not know the man. They must enlarge themselves to conceive of him. I have no doubt that the time will come when they will begin to see him as he was. They have got to conceive of a man of faith and of religious principle, and not a politician nor an Indian; of a man who did not wait till he was personally interfered with or thwarted in some harmless business before he gave his life to the cause of the oppressed.

If Walker may be considered the representative of the South, I wish I could say that Brown was the representative of the North. He was a superior man. He did not value his bodily life in comparison with ideal things. He did not recognize unjust human laws, but resisted them as he was bid. For once we are lifted out of the trivialness and dust of politics into the region of truth and manhood. No man in America has ever stood up so persistently and effectively for the dignity of human nature, knowing himself for a man, and the equal of any and all governments. In that sense he was the most American of us all. He needed no babbling lawyer, making false issues, to defend him. He was more than a match for all the judges that American voters, or office-holders of whatever grade, can create. He could not have been tried by a jury of his peers, because his peers did not exist. When a man stands up serenely against the condemnation and vengeance of mankind, rising above them literally by a whole body, — even though he were of late the vilest murderer, who has settled that matter with himself, the spectacle is a sublime one, — didn't ye know it, ye Liberators, ye Tribunes, ye Republicans? — and we become criminal in comparison. Do yourselves the honor to recognize him. He needs none of your respect.

As for the Democratic journals, they are not human enough to affect me at all. I do not feel indignation at any thing they may say.

I am aware that I anticipate a little, that he was still, at the last accounts, alive in the hands of his foes; but that being the case, I have all along found myself thinking and speaking of him as physically dead.

I do not believe in erecting statues to those who still live in our hearts, whose bones have not yet crumbled in the earth around us, but I would rather see the statue of Captain Brown in the Massachusetts State-House yard, than that of any other man whom I know. I rejoice that I live in this age— that I am his contemporary.

What a contrast, when we turn to that political party which is so anxiously shuffling him and his plot out of its way, and looking around for some available slaveholder, perhaps, to be its candidate, at least for one who will execute the Fugitive Slave Law, and all those other unjust laws which he took up arms to annul!

Insane! A father and six sons, and one son-in-law, and several more men besides, as many at least as twelve disciples, — all struck with insanity at once; while the sane tyrant holds with a firmer gripe than ever his four millions of slaves, and a thousand sane editors, his abettors, are saving their country and their bacon! Just as insane were his efforts in Kansas. Ask the tyrant who is his most dangerous foe, the sane man or the insane. Do the thousands who know him best, who have rejoiced at his deeds in Kansas, and have afforded him material aid there, think him insane? Such a use of this word is a mere trope with most who persist in using it, and I have no doubt that many of the rest have already in silence retracted their words.

Read his admirable answers to Mason and others. How they are dwarfed and defeated by the contrast! On the one side, half brutish, half timid questioning; on the other, truth, clear as lightning, crashing into their obscene temples. They are made to stand with Pilate, and Gesler, and the Inquisition. How ineffectual their speech and action! and what a void their silence! They are but helpless tools in this great work. It was no human power that gathered them about this preacher.

What have Massachusetts and the North sent a few sane representatives to Congress for, of late years? —to declare with effect what kind of sentiments? All their speeches put together and boiled down, — and probably they themselves will confess it, — do not match for manly directness and force, and for simple truth, the few casual remarks of crazy John Brown, on the floor of the Harper's Ferry engine house; — that man whom you are about to hang, to send to the other world, though not to represent you there. No, he was not our representative in any sense. He was too fair a specimen of a man to represent the like of us. Who, then, were his constituents? If you read his words understandingly you will find out. In his case there is no idle eloquence, no made, nor maiden speech, no compliments to the oppressor. Truth is his inspirer, and earnestness the polisher of his sentences. He could afford to lose his Sharpe's rifles, while he retained his faculty of speech, a Sharpe's rifle of infinitely surer and longer range.

And the New York Herald reports the conversation "verbatim"! It does not know of what undying words it is made the vehicle.

I have no respect for the penetration of any man who can read the report of that conversation, and still call the principal in it insane. It has the ring of a saner sanity than an ordinary discipline and habits of life, than an ordinary organization, secure. Take any sentence of it—"Any questions that I can honorably answer, I will; not otherwise. So far as I am myself concerned, I have told every thing truthfully. I value my word, sir." The few who talk about his vindictive spirit, while they really admire his heroism, have no test by which to detect a noble man, no amalgam to combine with his pure gold. They mix their own dross with it.

It is a relief to turn from these slanders to the testimony of his more truthful, but frightened, jailers and hangmen. Governor Wise speaks far more justly and appreciatingly of him than any Northern editor, or politician, or public personage, that I chance to have heard from. I know that you can afford to hear him again on this subject. He says: "They are themselves mistaken who take him to be a madman. . . He is cool, collected, and indomitable, and it is but just to him to say, that he was humane to his prisoners. And he inspired me with great trust in his integrity as a man of truth. He is a fanatic, vain and garrulous," (I leave that part to Mr. Wise,) "but firm, truthful, and intelligent. His men, too, who survive, are like him. Colonel Washington says that he was the coolest and firmest man he ever saw in defying danger and death. With one son dead by his side, and another shot through, he felt the pulse of his dying son with one hand, and held his rifle with the other, and commanded his men with the utmost composure, encouraging them to be firm, and to sell their lives as dear as they could. Of the three white prisoners, Brown, Stephens, and Coppic, it was hard to say which was most firm."

Almost the first Northern men whom the slaveholder has learned to respect!

The testimony of Mr. Vallandingham, though less valuable, is of the same purport, that "it is vain to underrate either the man or his conspiracy. . . He is the farthest possible remove from the ordinary ruffian, fanatic, or madman."

"All is quiet at Harper's Ferry," say the journals. What is the character of that calm which follows when the law and the slaveholder prevail? I regard this event as a touchstone designed to bring out, with glaring distinctness, the character of this government. We needed to be thus assisted to see it by the light of history. It needed to see itself. When a government puts forth its strength on the side of injustice, as ours to maintain Slavery and kill the liberators of the slave, it reveals itself a merely brute force, or worse, a demoniacal force. It is the head of the Plug Uglies. It is more manifest than ever that tyranny rules. I see this government to be effectually allied with France and Austria in oppressing mankind. There sits a tyrant holding fettered four millions of slaves; here comes their heroic liberator. This most hypocritical and diabolical government looks up from its seat on the gasping four millions, and inquires with an assumption of innocence, "What do you assault me for? Am I not an honest man? Cease agitation on this subject, or I will make a slave of you, too, or else hang you."

We talk about a representative government but what a monster of a government is that where the noblest faculties of the mind, and the whole heart, are not represented. A semi-human tiger or ox, stalking over the earth, with its heart taken out and the top of its brain shot away. Heroes have fought well on their stumps when their legs were shot off, but I never heard of any good done by such a government as that.

The only government that I recognize,—and it matters not how few are at the head of it, or how small its army, is that power that establishes justice in the land, never that which establishes injustice. What shall we think of a government to which all the truly brave and just men in the land are enemies, standing between it and those whom it oppresses? A government that pretends to be Christian and crucifies a million Christs every day!

Treason! Where does such treason take its rise? I cannot help thinking of you as you deserve, ye governments. Can you dry up the fountains of thought? High treason, when it is resistance to tyranny here below, has its origin in, and is first committed by the power that makes and forever recreates man. When you have caught and hung all these human rebels, you have accomplished nothing but your own guilt, for you have not struck at the fountain head. You presume to contend with a foe against whom West Point cadets and rifled cannon point not. Can all the art of the cannon-founder tempt matter to turn against its maker? Is the form in which the founder thinks he casts it more essential than the constitution of it and of himself?

The United States have a coffle of four millions of slaves. They are determined to keep them in this condition; and Massachusetts is one of the confederated overseers to prevent their escape. Such are not all the inhabitants of Massachusetts, but such are they who rule and are obeyed here. It was Massachusetts, as well as Virginia, that put down this insurrection at Harper's Ferry. She sent the marines there, and she will have to pay the penalty of her sin.

Suppose that there is a society in this State that out of its own purse and magnanimity saves all the fugitive slaves that run to us, and protects our colored fellow-citizen?, and leaves the other work to the Government, so-called. Is not that government fast losing its occupation, and becoming contemptible to mankind? If private men are obliged to perform the offices of government, to protect the weak and dispense justice, then the government becomes only a hired man, or clerk, to perform menial or indifferent services. Of course, that is but the shadow of a government whose existence necessitates a Vigilant Committee. What should we think of the oriental Cadi even, behind whom worked in secret a vigilant committee? But such is the character of our Northern States generally; each has its Vigilant Committee. And, to a certain extent, these crazy governments recognize and accept this relation. They say, virtually, "We'll be glad to work for you on these terms, only don't make a noise about it." And thus the government, its salary being insured, withdraws into the back shop, taking the constitution with it, and bestows most of its labor on repairing that. When I hear it at work sometimes, as I go by, it reminds me, at best, of those farmers who in winter contrive to turn a penny by following the coopering business. And what kind of spirit is their barrel made to hold? They speculate in stocks, and bore holes in mountains, but they are not competent to lay out even a decent highway. The only free road, the Underground Railroad, is owned and managed by the Vigilant Committee.

They have tunnelled under the whole breadth of the land. Such a government is losing its power and respectability as surely as water runs out of a leaky vessel, and is held by one that can contain it.

I hear many condemn these men because they were so few. When were the good and the brave ever in a majority? Would you have had him wait till that time came? — till you and I came over to him? The very fact that he had no rabble or troop of hirelings about him, would alone distinguish him from ordinary heroes. His company was small indeed, because few could be found worthy to pass muster. Each one who there laid down his life for the poor and oppressed was a picked man, culled out of many thousands, if not millions; apparently a man of principle, of rare courage and devoted humanity; ready to sacrifice his life at any moment for the benefit of his fellow-man. It may be doubted if there were as many more their equals in these respects in all the country-I speak of his followers only for their leader, no doubt, scoured the land far and wide, seeking to swell his troop. These alone were ready to step between the oppressor and the oppressed. Surely they were the very best men you could select to be hung. That was the greatest compliment which this country could pay them. They were ripe for her gallows. She has tried a long time, she has hung a good many, but never found the right one before.

When I think of him, and his six sons, and his son-in-law, — not to enumerate the others, enlisted for this fight, proceeding coolly, reverently, humanely to work, for months, if not years, sleeping and waking upon it, summering and wintering the thought, without expecting any reward but a good conscience, while almost all America stood ranked on the other side, I say again, that it affects me as a sublime spectacle. If he had had any journal advocating "his cause," any organ, as the phrase is, monotonously and wearisomely playing the same old tune, and then passing round the hat, it would have been fatal to his efficiency. If he had acted in any way so as to be let alone by the government, he might have been suspected. It was the fact that the tyrant must give place to him, or he to the tyrant, that distinguished him from all the reformers of the day that I know.

It was his peculiar doctrine that a man has a perfect right to interfere by force with the slaveholder, in order to rescue the slave. I agree with him. They who are continually shocked by slavery have some right to be shocked by the violent death of the slaveholder, but no others. Such will be more shocked by his life than by his death. I shall not be forward to think him mistaken in his method who quickest succeeds to liberate the slave. I speak for the slave when I say, that I prefer the philanthropy of Captain Brown philanthropy which neither shoots me nor liberates me. At any rate, I do not think it is quite sane for one to spend his whole life in talking or writing about this matter, unless he is continuously inspired, and I have not done so. A man may have other affairs to attend to. I do not wish to kill nor to be killed, but I can foresee circumstances in which both these things would be by me unavoidable. We preserve the so-called peace of our community by deeds of petty violence every day. Look at the policeman's billy and handcuffs! Look at the jail! Look at the gallows! Look at the chaplain of the regiment! We are hoping only to live safely on the outskirts of this provisional army. So we defend ourselves and our hen-roosts, and maintain slavery. I know that the mass of my countrymen think that the only righteous use that can be made of Sharpe's rifles and revolvers is to fight duels with them, when we are insulted by other nations, or to hunt Indians, or shoot fugitive slaves with them, or the like. I think that for once the Sharpe's rifles and the revolvers were employed in a righteous cause. The tools were in the hands of one who could use them.

The same indignation that is said to have cleared the temple once will clear it again. The question is not about the weapon, but the spirit in which you use it. No man has appeared in America, as yet, who loved his fellow-man so well, and treated him so tenderly. He lived for him. He took up his life and he laid it down for him. What sort of violence is that which is encouraged, not by soldiers but by peaceable citizens, not so much by laymen as by ministers of the gospel, not so much by the fighting sects as by the Quakers, and not so much by Quaker men as by Quaker women?

This event advertises me that there is such a fact as death the possibility of a man's dying. It seems as if no man had ever died in America before, for in order to die you must first have lived. I don't believe in the hearses, and palls, and funerals that they have had. There was no death in the case, because there had been no life; they merely rotted or sloughed off, pretty much as they had rotted or sloughed along. No temple's vail was rent, only a hole dug somewhere. Let the dead bury their dead. The best of them fairly ran down like a clock. Franklin — Washington — they were let off without dying; they were merely missing one day. I hear a good many pretend that they are going to die; or that they have died, for aught that I know. Nonsense! I'll defy them to do it. They haven't got life enough in them. They'll deliquesce like fungi, and keep a hundred eulogists mopping the spot where they left off. Only half a dozen or so have died since the world began. Do you think that you are going to die, sir? No! there's no hope of you. You haven't got your lesson yet. You've got to stay after school. We make a needless ado about capital punishment — taking lives, when there is no life to take. Memento mori! We don't understand that sublime sentence which some worthy got sculptured on his gravestone once. We've interpreted it in a grovelling and snivelling sense; we've wholly forgotten how to die.

But be sure you do die, nevertheless. Do your work, and finish it. If you know how to begin, you will know when to end.

These men, in teaching us how to die, have at the same time taught us how to live. If this man's acts and words do not create a revival, it will be the severest possible satire on the acts and words that do. It is the best news that America has ever heard. It has already quickened the feeble pulse of the North, and infused more and more generous blood into her veins and heart, than any number of years of what is called commercial and political prosperity could. How many a man who was lately contemplating suicide has now something to live for!

One writer says that Brown's peculiar monomania made him to be "dreaded by the Missourians as a supernatural being." Sure enough, a hero in the midst of us cowards is always so dreaded. He is just that thing. He shows himself superior to nature. He has a spark of divinity in him.

"Unless above himself he doth erect himself,

How poor a thing is man!"

Newspaper editors argue also that it is a proof of his insanity that he thought he was appointed to do this work which he did that he did not suspect himself for a moment! They talk as if it were impossible that a man could be "divinely appointed" in these days to do any work whatever; as if vows and religion were out of date as connected with any man's daily work, as if the agent to abolish Slavery could only be somebody appointed by the President, or by some political party. They talk as if a man's death were a failure, and his continued life, be it of whatever character, were a success.

When I reflect to what a cause this man devoted himself, and how religiously, and then reflect to what cause his judges and all who condemn him so angrily and fluently devote themselves, I see that they are as far apart as the heavens and earth are asunder.

The amount of it is, our "leading men" are a harmless kind of folk, and they know well enough that they were not divinely appointed, but elected by the votes of their party.

Who is it whose safety requires that Captain Brown be hung? Is it indispensable to any Northern man? Is there no resource but to cast these men also to the Minotaur? If you do not wish it, say so distinctly. While these things are being done, beauty stands veiled and music is a screeching lie. Think of him — of his rare qualities! such a man as it takes ages to make, and ages to understand; no mock hero, nor the representative of any party. A man such as the sun may not rise upon again in this benighted land. To whose making went the costliest material, the finest adamant; sent to be the redeemer of those in captivity; and the only use to which you can put him is to hang him at the end of a rope! You who pretend to care for Christ crucified, consider what you are about to do to him who offered himself to be the saviour of four millions of men.

Any man knows when he is justified, and all the wits in the world cannot enlighten him on that point. The murderer always knows that he is justly punished; but when a government takes the life of a man without the consent of his conscience, it is an audacious government, and is taking a step towards its own dissolution. Is it not possible that an individual may be right and a government wrong? Are laws to be enforced simply because they were made? or declared by any number of men to be good, if they are not good? Is there any necessity for a man's being a tool to perform a deed of which his better nature disapproves? Is it the intention of law-makers that good men shall be hung ever? Are judges to interpret the law according to the letter, and not the spirit? What right have you to enter into a compact with yourself that you will do thus or so, against the light within you? Is it for you to make up your mind to form any resolution whatever — and not accept the convictions that are forced upon you, and which ever pass your understanding? I do not believe in lawyers, in that mode of attacking or defending a man, because you descend to meet the judge on his own ground, and, in cases of the highest importance, it is of no consequence whether a man breaks a human law or not. Let lawyers decide trivial cases. Business men may arrange that among themselves. If they were the interpreters of the everlasting laws which rightfully bind man, that would be another thing. A counterfeiting law-factory, standing half in a slave land and half in a free! What kind of laws for free men can you expect from that?

I am here to plead his cause with you. I plead not for his life, but for his character- his immortal life; and so it becomes your cause wholly, and is not his in the least. Some eighteen hundred years ago Christ was crucified; this morning, perchance, Captain Brown was hung. These are the two ends of a chain which is not without its links.

He is not Old Brown any longer; he is an angel of light.

I see now that it was necessary that the bravest and humanest man in all the country should be hung. Perhaps he saw it himself. I almost fear that I may yet hear of his deliverance, doubting if a prolonged life, if any life, can do as much good as his death.

"Misguided"! "Garrulous"! "Insane"! Vindictive"! So ye write in your easy chairs, and thus he wounded responds from the floor of the Armory, clear as a cloudless sky, true as the voice of nature is: "No man sent me here; it was my own prompting and that of my Maker. I acknowledge no master in human form."

And in what a sweet and noble strain he proceeds, addressing his captors, who stand over him: "I think, my friends, you are guilty of a great wrong against God and humanity, and it would be perfectly right for any one to interfere with you so far as to free those you wilfully and wickedly hold in bondage."

And referring to his movement: "It is, in my opinion, the greatest service a man can render to God."

"I pity the poor in bondage that have none to help them; that is why I am here; not to gratify any personal animosity, revenge, or vindictive spirit. It is my sympathy with the oppressed and the wronged, that are as good as you, and as precious in the sight of God."

You don't know your testament when you see it.

"I want you to understand that I respect the rights of the poorest and weakest of colored people, oppressed by the slave power, just as much as I do those of the most wealthy and powerful."

"I wish to say, furthermore, that you had better, all you people at the South, prepare yourselves for a settlement of that question, that must come up for settlement sooner than you are prepared for it. The sooner you are prepared the better. You may dispose of me very easily. I am nearly disposed of now; but this question is still to be settled—this negro question, I mean; the end of that is not yet."

I foresee the time when the painter will paint that scene, no longer going to Rome for a subject; the poet will sing it; the historian record it; and, with the Landing of the Pilgrims and the Declaration of Independence, it will be the ornament of some future national gallery, when at least the present form of Slavery shall be no more here. We shall then be at liberty to weep for Captain Brown. Then, and not till then, we will take our revenge.

_______________

*A Plea for Captain John Brown; read to the citizens of Concord, Mass., Sunday evening, October 30, 1859; also as the Fifth Lecture of the Fraternity Course, in Boston, November 1.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 17-42

Friday, August 11, 2023

A Quakeress to John Brown, Undated

Dear Friend: A few humble believers, some of whom have been fasting and praying for thee and thy fellow-prisoners, desire that ye should know that ye are thus remembered. He who searches the heart can make known the fulness of what we feel but forbear to express. Dear friend, if thou knowest the way of life, thou hast help the world knows not of; but if thou hast never known Him whom to know aright is life eternal, we entreat thee in tender love to look to Him in this hour of need. Read the 46th Psalm and the 14th Chapter of St. John. Pour out thy supplications to thy Redeemer: He hath His loving eyes upon you there; His ear will be specially open to thy cry in the name of Jesus. It is Christ alone on whom we can rest. Be instant in prayer, remembering that the true Church is wrestling with thee. We have fear lest, from the bravery and magnanimity of thy spirit, thou shouldst not be sensible where thy strength lieth, as we poor weaker ones are, and have therefore affectionately entreated thee to keep very near in dependence on thy Divine Redeemer. We hope the rest of thy prisoners may see this letter, for we would point them all to the only refuge. O friends, look to your Redeemer in supplication, and thus draw down by prayer His loving kindness unto your wounded hearts, We pray for you, but you must pray for yourselves. We will also do what we can for your family if they need.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 415

Sunday, April 23, 2023

From a Slaveholder’s Son to John Brown, undated, about November 1859

Dear Brother: My father was a slaveholder, and when at school I commenced searching the Bible for sanction of the divine institution, but have not found it. I am Old School Presbyterian, and believe with our friends, the Quakers, Christ's kingdom will be peace; but now Christ told his disciples, He that hath a sword, let him take it. Therefore, I cannot say I think you exceeded your commission, and I rejoice that a man has been found worthy to suffer for Christ. Yes, dear brother, God Himself will send His angel, December 2, '59, to release you from your prison of clay, and conduct you to your Redeemer and mine, where you will join the souls under the altar, crying. How long before your blood be avenged on the earth? Truly, your ignominious death has a glory equal to that of the Apostles, in the eye of thousands who are praying for you that all your sins may be blotted out, and Christ's Cause, for which you suffer, may be speedily supplied with other witnesses for Right. Enclosed [is] one dollar for your use, because I want to do something to aid you, hoping others will do much. Kind regards to your family. One of the Seven Thousand the Lord knows; to every one known by man, who hate slavery because the Lord does.

[No signature nor date.]

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 391

Friday, September 2, 2022

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: September 19, 1864

Clear and pleasant.

We have nothing yet explanatory of the shelling yesterday.

To-day we have news of an expedition of the enemy crossing Rapidan Bridge on the way toward Gordonsville, Charlottesville, etc. Gen. Anderson's division, from Early's army, is said to be marching after them. We shall learn more of this business very soon.

Mrs. D. E. Mendenhall, Quaker, Jamestown, N. C., has written a "strictly confidential” letter to Mr. J. B. Crenshaw, of this city (which has gone on the files of the department), begging him to use his influence with Mr. Secretary Seddon (which is great) to get permission for her to send fourteen negroes, emancipated by her late husband's will, to Ohio. She says there is but one able to bear arms, and he is crazy; that since the enemy uses negro soldiers, she will withhold the able-bodied ones; that she has fed our soldiers, absolutely starving some of her stock to death, that she might have food for our poor men and their families, etc. etc.

No news from our flour.

I saw Nat Tyler to-day, and told him to call upon the farmers, in the Enquirer, to send their provisions to the city immediately, or they may lose their crops, and their horses too. He said he would.

The only news of interest is contained in the following official dispatch from Gen. Lee:

HEADQUARTERS ARMY NORTHERN VIRGINIA,    

September 17th, 1864.

Hon. J. A. SEDDON, SECRETARY OF WAR.

 

At daylight yesterday the enemy's skirmish line west of the Jerusalem Plank Road was driven back upon his intrenchments along their whole extent. Ninety prisoners were taken by us in the operation.

 

At the same hour Gen. Hampton attacked the enemy's position north of the Norfolk Railroad, near Sycamore Church, and captured about three hundred prisoners, some arms and wagons, a large number of horses, and twenty-five hundred cattle.

 

Gen. Gregg attacked Gen. Hampton, on his return in the afternoon, at Belchess' mill, on the Jerusalem Plank Road, but was repulsed and driven back. Everything was brought off safely.

 

Our entire loss does not exceed fifty men.

R. E. LEE.

Gen. Preston, Superintendent Bureau of Conscription, has made a labored defense (written by Colonels Lay and August) of the bureau against the allegations of Gen. Bragg. This was sent to the President by the Secretary of War, "for his information." The President sent it back, to-day, indorsed, "the subject is under general consideration."

The “Bureau,” by advertisement, to-day, calls upon everybody between the ages of sixteen and fifty to report at certain places named, and be registered, and state the reasons why they are not now in the army and in the field. What nonsense! How many do they expect to come forward, voluntarily, candidates for gunpowder and exposure in the trenches?

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 286-7

Tuesday, November 19, 2019

George Thompson To the Editor of the Boston Daily Atlas, September 30, 1835

Boston, SEPTEMBER 30, 1835.
To the Editor of the Daily Atlas —

SIR,—Through the kindness of a friend, I have just received a copy of your paper of this day, in which the following paragraph appears, extracted from the New York Commercial Advertiser.

“Mr. Thompson, in conversation with some of the students, repeatedly averred that every slaveholder in the United States, ouGHT To HAVE HIs THROAT CUT, or deserved to have his throat cut; although he afterward publicly denied that he had said so. But the proof is direct and positive. In conversation with some of the theological students, in regard to the moral instruction which ought to be enjoyed by the slaves, he distinctly declared, THAT EVERY SLAVE SHOULD BE TAUGHT TO CUT HIS MASTER'S THROAT. I state the fact—knowing the responsibility I am assuming, and challenge a legal investigation.”

In justice to myself, and the cause in which I am engaged, I feel it my duty, in the most solemn and emphatic manner, to deny the above allegations. They are at total variance with all the sentiments I have ever either publicly or privately expressed. I refer with the utmost confidence, to all who know me, and to the many thousands who have listened to my public addresses, as witnesses to the perfectly pacific character of my views and principles, on the subject of slavery. I hold in utter abhorrence the shedding of blood, and would, if I had the power, inculcate upon the mind of every slave in the world, the apostolical precept, “Resist not evil.” These doctrines I hold in common with the advocates of immediate emancipation universally. Their views, on the subject under discussion, are, I believe, in strict coincidence with the views of the Society of Friends.

I shall endure, without wrath, the epithets, censures, and accusations heaped upon me; nor can I wonder at the treatment I am daily receiving, when I remember that it was said of Him, whose benevolent doctrines I am humbly endeavoring to set forth, “Behold he hath a devil.”

It may be as well to add, that I heard a rumor of the first charge, when some time ago in Andover, and there most publicly repelled it. The latter charge is entire new.

Yours, respectfully,
GEORGE THOMPSON.

SOURCES: Isaac Knapp, Publisher, Letters and Addresses by G. Thompson [on American Negro Slavery] During His Mission in the United States, From Oct. 1st, 1834, to Nov. 27, 1835, p. 93-4

Thursday, October 10, 2019

Mr. Thompson at Lynn, published June 13, 1835

[From the Lynn Record,]

This distinguished young friend and disciple of Wilberforce, and justly celebrated orator, who has been repeatedly invited by the Anti-Slavery Society of this town, arrived on Saturday afternoon last, and was received with great satisfaction and delight. The society had a meeting on business, at the Town Hall, at the close of which, Mr. Thompson addressed a large crowded assembly of people, ladies and gentlemen, nearly two hours, in a strain of eloquence and power, quite beyond any thing we ever heard, and equally beyond our power to describe. All were held, as if by enchantment, to the close. It would be difficult to decide in which he most excelled, matter or manner. He took a comprehensive and varied view of the enormous injustice and evil of slavery, and brought up and considered the most prominent and popular objections to the plan of immediate abolition, and exposed their hypocrisy and absurdity in his own peculiar and effectual manner of cutting sarcasm. The effect was evidently great.

After Mr. Thompson had closed, a stern Pharisaical looking man, who had been sitting near the speaker, announcing himself as a preacher of the Gospel, from the South, desired the privilege of putting a few questions to Mr. Thompson, which was readily granted, and the questions as readily answered, to the satisfaction of the audience generally. The object of the stranger was to cavil and carp at what had been said. But the tables were adroitly turned upon the poor man, in a manner least expected, and most mortifying to him. One of the questions, in substance at least, was—‘Do you consider every slaveholder a thief?’ ‘I consider every person who holds and claims the right of holding his fellow being, as property, A MAN STEALER.’

After several questions, captious in their nature, had been asked and answered, Mr. Thompson turned upon his assailant, ‘If you have now done, sir, I, in turn, should like to ask you a few questions.’

‘Do you consider slavery a sin?’
‘I consider slavery a moral evil.’
Do you consider slavery a sin?’
‘I do consider slavery a sin.’
‘Is the marriage of slaves legal in the Southern States?’
‘It is legalized in Maryland.’
‘Can the Slaveholder, by the laws of Maryland, separate husband and wife?’
‘He can,’ &c. &c.

The gentleman stranger, (who is said to belong to Springfield in this state, formerly from the South) appealed to the people, but finally withdrew his appeal, and declared himself ‘satisfied.’ Whether satisfied or not, we believe he had as much as he could digest, and as much as he could swallow, including the question and answer system.

On Sunday evening, Mr. Thompson delivered a lecture on Slavery, in a religious view, as opposed to the doctrines of the Bible. The meeting-house (Rev. Mr. Peabody's) was much crowded, and many went away unable to gain admittance.

On Monday evening, Mr. Thompson lectured on the sin of slavery, before a newly formed ‘Anti-Slavery Society, of the New England Conference of Methodist Episcopal Ministers, consisting of about 60 or 70 Ministers—(a glorious phalanx!) at the South street Methodist meetinghouse. The house was well filled; but owing to a misunderstanding by many, that the lecture was to be delivered at the Woodend Meeting-house, (which was otherwise engaged) all who went were enabled to get in. The lecture was a powerful and splendid production both in argument and in manner of delivery.

On Tuesday evening, Mr. Thompson lectured at the Friend’s meeting-house, which is very large, and was thoroughly filled. He was assisted by Rev. A. A. Phelps, one of the public Agents of the Society, whose address was able, and well received. Mr. Garrison and several other friends of the cause, from Boston and Salem, were present. Mr. T. took occasion to glance at the past history and conduct of the Friends in regard to slavery, the lively interest they had taken in the cause of the oppressed, and the liberal contributions they had made; and exhorted to a continuance in the ways of well doing.

There may be men in our own country of more learning and more depth of mind, and strength of reasoning, than Mr. Thompson, though, we think, rarely to be found; but for readiness and skill in debate, and splendor of eloquence, as an orator, we believe he stands unrivalled. His amiableness, mildness of temper, urbanity, and blandness of manners and deportment, are adapted to win the love and affection of all, who are honored with his acquaintance. That the haughty, and the envious, should whisper their malignant hints that something evil is lurking about his character, is no more than may be naturally expected; though they are most fully and satisfactorily refuted by his numerous and honorable testimonials of respect which we have seen, from benevolent societies and individuals in England, where he is well known. These all breathe the warm friendship and esteem which goodness and greatness of soul alone can inspire.

The independence of mind which Mr. Thompson possesses, is one of the most striking and important traits in his excellent character. He shrinks from nothing. He is ready to attack sin and wickedness in every shape—in high or low places: and his thrusts never miss—never fail of effect.

The name of ‘Mr. George Thompson’ was often associated in the public journals, with distinguished orators and philanthropists, at the various public meetings of benevolent societies in England, long before he embarked for this country. He was there ranked among the most able and popular orators. But here, in this country, there are certain would-be great men, who dare not meet Mr. Thompson in the open field, who vent their pitiful malice, and strive to induce others to treat him with that neglect, to which themselves are so well entitled; because he brings out and exposes to the light of day their works of darkness.

‘He is a foreigner—he has no right to come here interfering with our laws, our customs, and our private rights.’


Very fine, indeed! Capital! Who has a right to interfere, or say a word, if a man murders his wife and children, or sells them into bondage? It was all his own family concern. Who has a right to express an opinion of the Turks, when oppressing, starving, and murdering the Greeks, not only men, but helpless women and children : Who has a right to express an opinion against the Russians for similar conduct toward the Poles, under similar circumstances, as the latter were the vassals of the former, in both cases? Who has a right to send Gospel missionaries abroad among the benighted heathen, groping in darkness, in order to instruct and enlighten them in the way of truth? WE—we, the American people, the ‘sons of liberty,’ claim the right, and exercise it too; without once being asked, why do ye so We, the American people, claim and exercise the right, when the laws of God— the eternal laws of truth and justice, and humanity, are broken, to expose the sin, and to ‘reprove, rebuke and exhort the transgressor.

‘But slavery was brought to our shores and entailed on us by England, against our consent, when we were under her government; and now shall England send men here to complain of the injustice and cruelty of the act, when we should be glad to get rid of the evil, but cannot?’

Reason answers, Yes. If England did wrong, and afterward saw the evil, repented, and brought forth fruits meet for repentance, by liberating all their own slaves, was it not right—was it not a christian duty, to extend their acts of kindness to us also, whom they had led into error; to tell us what they had done, and how they did it ; and to aid and assist us to get out of the difficulty ? The law of God is universal. The law of Christians—the law of love, is universal; and requires the subjects of that law to oppose and expose sin and oppression wherever they are found. We send Ministers, political, religious, and masonic, to England and other places—to co-operate—to ask and give assistance, and mutually to benefit each other. But what can we, in the Northern States do? We can say, slavery is ‘a sin. We can enlighten public sentiment on the subject, and cause the sin of slavery—the greatest sin in the world, to become odious: and public sentiment in this country has the force of law, to correct any evil.

To assist us in these labors of love, Mr. Thompson has been sent among us, by the friends of humanity in England; and a most efficient and powerful co-worker he is, sweeping away the refuges of lies, and carrying his principles as a mighty sweeping torrent, wherever he goes. The advocates of slavery fear and hate him, the humane and philanthropic love him, and all respect and admire his talents, whatever they may pretend.

Mr. Thompson possesses all the requisites of an impressive and powerful orator—a fund of acquired knowledge, a brilliant imagination, natural pathos, a powerful voice, an elegant form, graceful gesticulation, a countenance capable of expressing any passion or emotion, and lastly, the most important of all, a benevolent heart—an expansive soul.

SOURCES: Isaac Knapp, Publisher, Letters and Addresses by G. Thompson [on American Negro Slavery] During His Mission in the United States, From Oct. 1st, 1834, to Nov. 27, 1835, p. 88-92; “Mr. Thompson at Lynn,” The Liberator, Boston, Massachusetts, Saturday, June 13, 1835, p. 3.

Thursday, July 26, 2018

Amos A. Lawrence to a Quaker of Lynn, Massachusetts: September 24, 1856

Boston, September 24, 1856.

My Dear Sir, — In reply to yours I will say that all money sent to the treasurer of the New England Emigrant Aid Company (myself) will be appropriated as you request. This company has never sent arms nor ammunition. Any supplies of this sort were sent by private individuals. . . . This company is now forwarding clothing, which is very much wanted to enable the settlers, who have been harassed all summer, and have lost their crops partially or wholly, to remain during the winter. Few have money to spare to lay in a stock of new clothes, and they must buy them at a high price, if at all. We have a depository for all this in Iowa, and it will be used only as it is wanted. Shoes. What can Lynn people do so useful as collect all the unsalable shoes, if there are such things, and send them out. They must have them packed in barrels, or you may pack them and mark them Lynn. A dozen or two such boxes would revive their weary soles. Send to T. H. Webb, Emigrant Aid Rooms, 3 Winter Street, Boston. Now is the time. All merchandise must go out at once. In many towns the ladies are having “Bees” to sew for Kansas. In some houses (my own for one) they have packed up everything not in use, and will buy a new stock for themselves. Remember that there are thirty thousand Free State men, women, and children there. Take off your coat, my dear friend, and put on your best one: and take your overcoat and pantaloons; save only one suit for Sunday and week days, and pack up the rest. That will stir up your neighbors to do the same. They will be warmer without them because their hearts will keep them warm all winter, and inside heat is the best and lasts the longest.

Yours very truly,
A. A. L.

SOURCE: William Lawrence, Life of Amos A. Lawrence: With Extracts from His Diary and Correspondence, p. 108

Monday, July 9, 2018

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: September 28, 1863

All is reported quiet on the Rappahannock, the enemy seeming to be staggered, if not stupefied, by the stunning blows dealt Rosecrans in the West.

Burnside's detachment is evacuating East Tennessee; we have Jonesborough, and are pursuing the enemy, at last accounts, toward Knoxville. Between that and Chattanooga he may be intercepted by the right wing of Bragg.

The President had his cabinet with him nearly all day. It is not yet ascertained, precisely, whether Mr. Seward was really on the flag of truce steamer yesterday, but it is pretty certain that Mr. Benjamin went down the river. Of course the public is not likely to know what transpired there — if anything.

The trans-Mississippi army is getting large amounts of stores, etc., on the Rio Grande River. Major Hart, Quartermaster, writes from San Antonio, Texas, on the 13th of July, that three large English steamers, "Sea Queen," "Sir Wm. Peel," and the "Gladiator," had arrived, were discharging, etc. Also that two large schooners were hourly expected with 20,000 Enfield rifles on board. He says Gen. Magruder is impressing cotton to freight these vessels.

So far, 260 Quakers, non-combatants, have been reported, mostly in North Carolina. A few cannot pay the $500—conscientiously.

The papers begin to give the details of the great battle of Chickamauga—the "river of death."

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2p. 54-5

Thursday, June 28, 2018

John Brown to E. B., a Quaker Woman, November 1, 1859

Charlestown, Jefferson County, Va., Nov. 1, 1859.

My Dear Friend E. B. Of R. I., — Your most cheering letter of the 27th of October is received; and may the Lord reward you a thousandfold for the kind feeling you express toward me; but more especially for your fidelity to the “poor that cry, and those that have no help.” For this I am a prisoner in bonds. It is solely my own fault, in a military point of view, that we met with our disaster. I mean that I mingled with our prisoners and so far sympathized with them and their families that I neglected my duty in other respects. But God's will, not mine, be done.

You know that Christ once armed Peter. So also in my case I think he put a sword into my hand, and there continued it so long as he saw best, and then kindly took it from me. I mean when I first went to Kansas. I wish you could know with what cheerfulness I am now wielding the “sword of the Spirit” on the right hand and on the left. I bless God that it proves “mighty to the pulling down of strongholds.” I always loved my Quaker friends, and I commend to their kind regard my poor bereaved widowed wife and my daughters and daughters-in-law, whose husbands fell at my side. One is a mother and the other likely to become so soon. They, as well as my own sorrow-stricken daughters, are left very poor, and have much greater need of sympathy than I, who, through Infinite Grace and the kindness of strangers, am “joyful in all my tribulations.”

Dear sister, write them at North Elba, Essex County, N. Y., to comfort their sad hearts. Direct to Mary A. Brown, wife of John Brown. There is also another — a widow, wife of Thompson, who fell with my poor boys in the affair at Harper's Ferry — at the same place.

I do not feel conscious of guilt in taking up arms; and had it been in behalf of the rich and powerful, the intelligent, the great (as men count greatness), or those who form enactments to suit themselves and corrupt others, or some of their friends, that I interfered, suffered, sacrificed, and fell, it would have been doing very well. But enough of this. These light afflictions, which endure for a moment, shall but work for me “a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.” I would be very grateful for another letter from you. My wounds are healing. Farewell. God will surely attend to his own cause in the best possible way and time, and he will not forget the work of his own hands.

Your friend,
John Brown.

SOURCES: Franklin B. Sanborn, The Life and Letters of John Brown, p. 582-3

Monday, June 11, 2018

E. B., a Quaker Woman, to John Brown, October 27, 1859

Newport, R. I., Tenth Month, 27th, ’59.
Captain John Brown.

Dear Friend, — Since thy arrest I have often thought of thee, and have wished that, like Elizabeth Fry toward her prison friends, so I might console thee in thy confinement. But that can never be; and so I can only write thee a few lines which, if they contain any comfort, may come to thee like some little ray of light.

You can never know how very many dear Friends love thee with all their hearts for thy brave efforts in behalf of the poor oppressed; and though we, who are non-resistants, and religiously believe it better to reform by moral and not by carnal weapons, could not approve of bloodshed, yet we know thee was animated by the most generous and philanthropic motives. Very many thousands openly approve thy intentions, though most Friends would not think it right to take up arms. Thousands pray for thee every day; and oh, I do pray that God will be with thy soul. Posterity will do thee justice. If Moses led out the thousands of Jewish slaves from their bondage, and God destroyed the Egyptians in the sea because they went after the Israelites to bring them back to slavery, then surely, by the same reasoning, we may judge thee a deliverer who wished to release millions from a more cruel oppression. If the American people honor Washington for resisting with bloodshed for seven years an unjust tax, how much more ought thou to be honored for seeking to free the poor slaves.

Oh, I wish I could plead for thee as some of the other sex can plead, how I would seek to defend thee! If I had now the eloquence of Portia, how I would turn the scale in thy favor! But I can only pray "God bless thee!" God pardon thee, and through our Redeemer give thee safety and happiness now and always!

From thy friend,
E. B.

SOURCES: Franklin B. Sanborn, The Life and Letters of John Brown, p. 581-2

Sunday, June 3, 2018

Thomas Wentworth Higginson, June 1859

Worcester, June, 1859

I got home from Pennsylvania on Friday morning. Whittier was in the same region a month before me and he said, “God might have made a more beautiful region than Chester County — but he never did. A beautiful rolling country, luxuriant as Kansas and highly cultivated as Brookline; horses and cattle pasturing in rich clover fields; hedges of hawthorn; groves of oak, walnut, pine, and vast columnar tulip trees towering up to heaven and holding out their innumerable cups of nectar to the gods above the clouds; picturesque great houses of brick and stone, gabled and irregular, overgrown with honeysuckle and wistaria, and such a race of men and women as the “Quaker settlement” in “Uncle Tom” portrays. All farming country; no towns nearer the meeting-house than Westchester, nine miles off, and Wilmington (Delaware) twelve. Only little old taverns here and there, known through all the country as “The Red Lion,” “The Anvil,” and “The Hammer and Trowel.” Only three houses in sight from the meeting-house and twenty-five hundred vehicles collected round it on Sunday, with probably seven thousand people on the ground.

Almost all the people in the region were Quakers, and being dissatisfied with the conservative position held by that body on slavery and other matters, they have gradually come out from among them and formed a Yearly Meeting of Progressive Friends which retains little of the externals of Quakerism and all its spirit and life. The young people have abandoned the Quaker dress, as indeed they have done everywhere, but retain all the simplicity, kindness, and uprightness. So noble a people in body and mind, I never saw before. I never was in the presence of so many healthy-looking women, or so many good faces of either sex. Their mode of living is Virginian in its open-house hospitality; they say incidentally, “we happened to have thirty-five people in the house last night.” . . . I stayed at three different houses during my four days’ visit and might have stayed at thirty. I passed from house to house as through a series of triumphal arches and yet not from any merit supposed in myself, but simply because, as Conway wrote to them in a letter, “the earnest man is a king at Longwood; he finds friends and sumptuous entertainment wherever he turns. To say that they make one at home is nothing; one fears forgetfulness of all other homes.”

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

Do not imagine that these people are ignorant or recluse; they have much intercourse with people, especially with Philadelphia; the young people are well educated, and all take the “Atlantic.” One feels in cultivated society. Aunt Nancy will like to hear that Bayard Taylor originated there and is now building a house there; I saw his father's house; also that of John Agnew, where his beautiful bride lived and died. I saw John Agnew himself, a noble-looking old man, erect as an arrow. I saw the lovely Mary's daguerreotype, and her grave. They all speak well of B. T. and praise his simplicity, modesty, and love of home; I never had so pleasant an impression of him, and if you will read his spirited poem of the tulip tree you can imagine a Chester County for a background.

The little meeting-house was crowded — seven hundred or so; the rest of the Sunday crowd was collected outside and there was speaking in several places. I spoke on the steps. Other days the church held them all. There were morning and afternoon sessions, and at noon we picnicked under the trees every day. They discussed everything — Superstition, Slavery, Spiritualism, War, Marriage, Prisons, Property, etc. — each in turn, and uniting in little “testimonies” on them all, which will be printed. There were some other speakers from abroad beside myself, but none of much note. No long speeches and great latitude of remark, among the audience, commenting or rebuking in the friendliest way. “Friend, will thee speak a little louder? What thee says may be of no great importance, but we would like to judge for ourselves.” Or sometimes to the audience: “Have patience, friends, this old man (the speaker) is very conscientious.” Sometimes stray people, considerably demented, would stray in and speak; one erect old man, oddly dressed, who began and said, “My mother was a woman”: and then a long pause. It seemed a safe basis for argument. Of course, they all knew each other and called by their first names. One old oddity seemed to devote himself to keeping down the other people's excesses, and after two persons (strangers) had yielded to too much pathos in their own remarks, he mildly suggested that if the friends generally would get a good chest and each speaker henceforth lock up his emotions in it and lose the key, it would be a decided gain! There was one scene, quite pathetic, where one of the leading men announced that after great struggles he had given up tobacco — they rejoiced over him as a brand from the burning; it was most touching, the heartfelt gratitude which his wife expressed.

There was one park not far from the meeting-house which I have never seen equalled; the most English-looking place I ever saw — two avenues of superb pines and larches, leading down to a lake with other colonnades of deciduous trees at right angles. The house to which it belonged was buried in shrubs and bushes and surrounded by quaint outbuildings. At Hannah Cox's house, the most picturesque at which I stayed, there was a large wax plant in a pot, trained over much of the side of the house: this is seven years old and is taken in every fall and trained over the side of the room; and the thick leaves serve as registers of visitors' names, which have been scratched on them with a pin; some were dated 1851; I marked mine on two, lest one should fall. . . . Every time it is changed it takes five persons three hours to train it.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

I took tea one evening at the house of some singular Quaker saints . . . with a capacity for sudden outpourings of the Spirit in public meetings. ... In the old square house General Washington had been quartered and the neat old Quaker mother well remembered when the Hessian prisoners were marched through the city. The two sisters always talked together, as is usual in such cases, and when I walked them to the evening meeting, one on each arm, the eldest was telling a long story of her persecutions among the Orthodox Friends, and whenever the sister interrupted, the eldest would unhook her own arm from mine, for the purpose (as I at last discovered) of poking her sister's elbow and thus admonishing to silence. It was done so promptly and invariably that I was satisfied that it was the established habit of the family.

SOURCE: Mary Potter Thacher Higginson, Editor, Letters and Journals of Thomas Wentworth Higginson, 1846-1906, p. 72-77