"The truth is," resumed Mr. Allen, "we entertained the highest opinion
of the young man, and he has visited frequently at our house. I am
willing to admit to you that the feeling I spoke of has been mutual.
With your appreciation of the claims of propriety, the impossibility of
a union will of course be apparent to you."
"Then you regard it as impossible?" I asked.
"Yes," he replied. "Do you not so regard it? Think for a moment what it
involves. Some friends of ours in a Western city, as my wife was saying
yesterday, have had a trouble of this kind a generation or two back, and
the children of the present family are in a condition of chronic worry
upon the subject. They are wealthy, and are regarded and treated in
society as white people; but the two young ladies use some kind of
whitening on their faces habitually. The circumstances of the case are
pretty generally known, and you can understand how unpleasant such a
matter must be to the entire family. It is claimed that a tinge of color
sometimes passes over a generation and appears more markedly in the
next. I do not know how that may be, but the idea of the risk is enough
to give one chills. There is a story that the Western family of which I
spoke has a colored grandson concealed somewhere. Of course I do not
know whether it is true or not; but it serves as an illustration.
"My message to Mr. Brown is, that, under all the circumstances, we think
he should discontinue his visits at our house. I presume he will see
that he should take that course. I shall always be glad to meet him
anywhere except at my home. In regard to a business engagement, if he
will allow me to say a word, I would suggest that he should teach our
colored school. They are looking for a teacher just now, as it happens,
and he would be very popular in that capacity."
I could not but admit that Mr. Allen's suggestions were characterized by
practical wisdom, but I hinted that the course proposed seemed hardly
just to Anthony.
"As to that," said Mr. Allen, "it is true that our laws and customs are
unjust and cruel in their treatment of a subjugated race. But it is not
wrong to avoid marriage with any other race than our own. As to the part
that is unjust, you and I cannot remedy that. So far as we are
individually concerned, we may deal justly with the down-trodden, and I
hope we do so; but the great wrong will still remain."
I left the office of Mr. Allen, feeling that he was in the right. I went
directly to Anthony, and, with a heavy heart, reported to him the
particulars of the interview. It was a painful shock, but he bore it
with greater calmness and fortitude than I had expected. When I had
concluded the recital, he remarked sadly that he found it impossible to
say that Mr. Allen was wrong, hard as the truth seemed. He felt that
marriage was out of the question, and said that he would not have
indulged the thought of it if he had reflected upon the matter
carefully. He was not fully decided what course he would pursue. It was
too painful a subject and involved too great a change to admit of a
hasty decision; and he desired my best thoughts and counsel, which I
gave him.
After two days I returned to Whitesboro, leaving Anthony in
Philadelphia, still pondering the course he would pursue. Three weeks
later I received a letter from him, in which he announced that he had
taken the colored school.
Four months passed away. Then I received from my friend a long
communication, setting forth rather formally his experience in his new
position and unfolding to me new views which he had gained by reflection
and contact with the world. He also presented the plan of life which he
had decided upon, if I approved. I was greatly surprised at the entire
revolution in his ideas which had been effected by his observation and
his courageous mental struggles.
"My own thoughts," he wrote, "have been completely changed by reading
and reflection. There are three aspects of this subject which I wish to
make clear to you. There is first the view that every colored man has
some sort of strange, mysterious curse resting upon him by a law of his
nature. The idea is that, although the black man in any given instance
may be superior, spiritually, intellectually, and physically, to his
white neighbor, yet he cannot equal him because of this mysterious
curse. This view, sad as it is (advocated by the white race), has
settled down upon the minds of millions of colored people. It has
crushed out of them all self-reliance and independence. It fastens
tenaciously upon the quiet, sensitive spirit, destroying its hope and
self-respect and enterprise. I need not tell you how near I have come to
being shipwrecked by its influence. But it is founded upon a lie. It is
a lie backed up by the assertion, practically, of nations and of
millions of intelligent persons acting in their individual capacity. It
is, however, none the less a base, malignant falsehood, robbing the
spirit that is cowed and crushed by it of the sweetest possessions of
life. A similar falsehood has established castes in India, and still
another has subjugated woman in many lands, making her a soulless being
and the slave of man.
"If any black man has greater wisdom, strength, and goodness than the
majority of white men, he is higher in the scale of manhood than they.
The real question involved is a comparison of individuals, and not of
races.
"You will remember how Homer, in the Iliad, praises the blameless
Ethiopians, beloved of the gods and dwelling in a wide land that
stretches from the rising to the setting of the sun. The ancient
historians praise them also. Words of commendation of this great
historic people are found in the ancient classics. So far as I can
discover, the prejudice against color is of modern origin.
"I believe that at no very distant day the slaves will be liberated, and
that the Almighty will be the avenger of their wrongs.
"I turn now to consider the second aspect of this subject. When a
colored man is wise enough and courageous enough to embrace the views
which I have presented, he may still be compelled, as a part of his lot
in life, to submit to the assumption that he is inferior. It is hard to
live in this way in the shadow of a great lie, but it is better than to
have the iron enter more deeply into the soul, so as to compel _belief_
of the lie, as is the case with millions of human beings. When the
spirit is enfranchised I can understand that one may lead a very noble
life in cheerfully submitting to the inevitable misfortune. There are a
few colored men who thus recognize the truth, and yet bow to the great
sorrow, which they cannot escape, with noble and manly fortitude. I
confess that I have entertained thoughts of attempting such a life. I
think I could do so if I could see that any great good would be
accomplished by it. But my experience here has taught me that any such
sacrifice is not required of me. I find that it is not to the advantage
of the colored people to be taught at present. They tell me that as they
grow in knowledge their degradation becomes more apparent to them, and
their sufferings greater. They leave the school with the impression that
for them ignorance rather than knowledge is the road to happiness. I
cannot deny the truth of their reasoning. If they could be raised above
the sense of degradation from which they suffer, it would be different.
But, apparently, this cannot be done. It is at least impossible in the
few years which can be given to their instruction in the schools now
provided for their education. The prevailing sentiment among them is
against education and in favor of a thoughtless and easy life. They do
not wish to face those fires through which the awakened spirit, crushed
by hopeless oppression, must necessarily pass. Only yesterday a young
man described to me, with thrilling pathos, the anguish of spirit with
which he had felt the fetters tightening upon him as his knowledge
increased.
"I do not feel called upon, therefore, to devote my life to teaching. If
there was hope left in the case, perhaps I might do so. I would labor on
willingly if there were light ahead. But, with millions in slavery and
others as tightly bound down by prejudice as if they were slaves, I see
no encouragement. I think it the wiser course to wait, trusting that
Providence will open a way for a change to come. And this brings me to
the third aspect of this matter, and the last phase of it which I desire
to consider. It seems to me to be my duty and privilege to withdraw from
the unequal contest. The stupendous lie which crushes the mass of the
colored race has not imposed itself upon me, although I have had a
terrible struggle with it that nearly cost me my reason. I am not so
situated as to be compelled to live among those whose very presence
would be a constant shadow, a burden to me and a reproach to my
existence. Fortunately, I am not compelled to accept the great
misfortune and bow to the assumptions of a ruling race. I can retire to
the fastnesses of my native hills and forests, where petty distinctions
fade away in the majestic presence of nature. I am already beginning to
anticipate the change, and instinctively asserting that independence
which I feel. Indeed, I have given offence in several instances. I have
no trouble with solid business-men like Mr. Allen. They have the good
sense and fairness to recognize the fact that a man is a man wherever
you find him. But some people of the fanciful sort, with less brains
than I have, do me the honor to be angry because I do not submit to any
assumptions of superiority on their part. I might be so situated that it
would be wisdom to submit, to bend to a lie, to lead the life of a
martyr, as some noble men of my acquaintance do under such
circumstances. But, fortunately, I can afford to be independent, and I
shall do so and take the risk of bodily violence.
"You have now my plan of life and my reasons for it. I shall adhere to
it under all ordinary circumstances. Nevertheless, if Providence calls
me to some work where great good can be done, I will sacrifice my
independence and take up the load of misfortune which prejudice imposes,
if that is required, and try to bear meekly the burden and do my duty in
the battle of life. But I hope this may not be required of me. Around my
home, as you know, are many immigrants, foreign-born, who do not inherit
or feel the prejudice against color. My family is already one of the
wealthiest and most influential in our little community. With such
property as I have and can readily gain, and with such school-teaching
and political teaching as I can do, it is a settled thing that our
standing will be at the head of society and business, so far as we have
any such distinctions among us. To refer to the matter of color in a
business light, I may remind you that its trace is very faint in our
family line. Already it has entirely disappeared in my own person. With
wealth and position it will be to me at home as though it were not; and
when my dear mother passes away it will disappear entirely and be
speedily lost to memory. I do not mean by this to shirk the position of
the colored man, of which I have had a bitter taste. I only mean to show
you the brightness and hope of my situation. I trust that you will
approve of the course which I have marked out, and give me some credit
for courage in meeting and conquering the grisly terror, the base lie,
which sought to blast my life."
It would be difficult to express too strongly my admiration for my
friend as I read the letter from which I have quoted. It seemed to me
wonderful that he had been able to so disentangle himself from
difficulties. The cool intrepidity with which he had fought his way
through those mental troubles which had seemed at one time about to
overwhelm him was to me the most astonishing part of the performance. I
wrote to him in terms of the highest commendation, frankly expressing my
astonishment at the vigor, truth, and force apparent in his actions and
his reasoning. He was satisfied with my letter, and proceeded to close
up his affairs in a deliberate and decorous manner before returning home
and carrying his plan into execution. It was his idea that I should
spend some months each year with him, and he had made other friends who
would be invited to visit him.
But the plan which Anthony had formed was never executed. Matters were
as I have described, when the war of the Rebellion broke out. Here was
that call to public duty which he had alluded to as a possible
interference which might change the course of his life. He felt from the
first that the contest was a fight for the black man, and he was anxious
to engage in it. In a hasty letter to me he recognized the fact that the
spirit of John Brown, whom he greatly admired, was still busy in the
affairs of the nation, although his body was sleeping in the grave at
North Elba.
Anthony Brown enlisted in a white regiment, there being no trace of
color about him and no objection being made. He claimed to have a
presentiment that he would fall in battle at an early day. Whether it
was a presentiment or a mere fancy, it was his fate. He now rests with
the indistinguishable dead
Where the buzzard, flying,
Pauses at Malvern Hill.
When I learned of his death, a duty fell upon me. He had written in one
of his letters that if he did not return from the war he would like to
have me tell his mother the true history of his life. He had concealed
from her his struggles in reference to color. She knew nothing of his
trials at Whitesboro or at Philadelphia. No words had ever passed
between them upon the subject. He thought it better, if he lived, that
she should never know, but if he died he wished that his history should
be fully made known to her.
I made the journey on horseback over the ground I have already
described. It was a delightful autumn day when I passed through the
village of Champion and went on to Mrs. Brown's home. She was expecting
me, as I had written in advance announcing my intended visit. I could
see that she was greatly pleased to receive me. I had been at the house
two days before I ventured to introduce, in a formal manner, the subject
of my mission. Talking of old times, and leading gradually up to the
subject, I frankly stated that Anthony had charged me to tell her the
story of his personal history, and I exhibited his letter to her. It was
after dinner, as we were sitting in the front room reading and talking.
Mrs. Brown immediately became excited and anxious to hear. As I
disclosed the sorrow of Anthony's life and related the particulars of
his career, the effect upon her was not at all what I had expected. She
became more and more excited and distressed. At last she called sharply
to her servant-girl, Melissa, and told her to go and bring Father
Michael, and to bid him come immediately. While Melissa was gone, Mrs.
Brown, with a great deal of agitation in her manner, proceeded to
question me in regard to the incidents of Anthony's career in
Philadelphia, and frequently broke out with the exclamation, "Why could
we not have known?"
Soon Father Michael came, and the woman assailed him at once in a harsh
and accusing manner, speaking in the French language with great
volubility. He replied to her in the same tongue. There was only here
and there a word that I could understand. It was plain, however, that
there was a contest between them, and that it related to my deceased
friend.
By degrees the matter was so far made plain that I understood that
Anthony was not the son of Mrs. Brown, but was of the purest white blood
and connected with people of rank. Beyond this I was not permitted to
know his history. When I asked questions, Father Michael replied that it
was better "not to break through the wall of the past." He said it was
too late now to aid Anthony, but added that the trouble might have been
averted if it had been known at the time.
A day later I took my departure. As I travelled back to Whitesboro I
reflected upon the strange events that had shaped Anthony's career. When
I turned on the Steuben hills and looked once more upon Castorland, it
seemed to me a region of mystery; and the useless tears fell from my
eyes as I remembered how one of its secrets had darkened the life of the
dearest friend of my youth.
I subsequently learned that Miss Allen, of Philadelphia, suffered
indirectly from the effects of Anthony's misfortune. She was not able to
forget the man she had chosen.
I have never learned the facts in regard to the early history and real
parentage of Anthony Calvert Brown.