RANDOM SHOTS.
The division of the anti-slavery organization into two distinct
societies did not immediately terminate the war between them. From New
York and the American society the contest over the woman's question was
almost directly shifted after the triumph of the Garrisonians in the
convention, to London and the World's Convention, which was held in the
month of June of the year 1840. To this anti-slavery congress both of
the rival anti-slavery organizations in America elected delegates. These
delegates, chosen by the older society and by its auxiliaries of the
States of Massachusetts and Pennsylvania, were composed of women and
men. Lucretia Mott was not only chosen by the National Society, but by
the Pennsylvania Society as well. The Massachusetts Society selected
Lydia Maria Child, Maria Weston Chapman, and Ann Green Phillips together
with their husbands among its list of delegates. England at this time
was much more conservative on the woman's question than America. The
managers of the World's Convention did not take kindly to the notion of
women members, and signified to the American societies who had placed
women among their delegates that the company of the women was not
expected. Those societies, however, made no alteration in deference to
this notice, in the character of their delegations, but stood stoutly by
their principle of "the EQUAL BROTHERHOOD of the entire HUMAN FAMILY
without distinction of color, sex, or clime."
A contest over the admission of women to membership in the World's
Convention was therefore a foregone conclusion. The convention,
notwithstanding a brilliant fight under the lead of Wendell Phillips in
behalf of their admission, refused to admit the women delegates. The
women delegates instead of having seats on the floor were forced in
consequence of this decision to look on from the galleries. Garrison,
who with Charles Lenox Remond, Nathaniel P. Rogers, and William Adams,
was late in arriving in England, finding, on reaching London the women
excluded from the convention and sitting as spectators in the galleries,
determined to take his place among them, deeming that the act of the
convention which discredited the credentials of Lucretia Mott and her
sister delegates, had discredited his own also. Remond, Rogers, and
Adams followed his example and took their places with the rejected women
delegates likewise. The convention was scandalized at such proceedings,
and did its best to draw Garrison and his associates from the ladies in
the galleries to the men on the floor, but without avail. There they
remained an eloquent protest against the masculine narrowness of the
convention. Defeated in New York, the delegates of the new American and
Foreign Anti-Slavery Society triumphed over their victors in London. But
their achievements in the World's Convention, in this regard, was not of
a sort to entitle them to point with any special pride in after years;
and, as a matter of fact, not one of them would have probably cared to
have their success alluded to in any sketch of their lives for the
perusal of posterity.
Garrison and his associates were the recipients of the most cordial and
flattering attention from the English Abolitionists. He was quite
lionized, in fact, at breakfasts, fêtes, and soirées. The Duchess of
Sunderland paid him marked attention and desired his portrait, which was
done for Her Grace by the celebrated artist, Benjamin Robert Haydon, who
executed besides a large painting of the convention, in which he grouped
the most distinguished members with reference to the seats actually
occupied by them during its sessions. Of course to leave Garrison out of
such a picture would almost seem like the play of "Hamlet" with _Hamlet_
omitted, a blunder which the artist was by no means disposed to make.
Garrison was accordingly invited to sit to him for his portrait. Haydon,
who it seems was a student of human nature as well as of the human form,
made the discovery of a fact which at first surprised and angered him.
In making his groupings of heads he decided to place together the Rev.
John Scoble, George Thompson and Charles Lenox Remond. When Scoble sat
to him, Haydon told him of his design in this regard. But, remarked
Haydon, Scoble "sophisticated immediately on the propriety of placing
the negro in the distance, as it would have much greater effect." The
painter now applied his test to Thompson who "saw no objection."
Thompson did not bear the test to Haydon's satisfaction, who observed
that "A man who wishes to place the negro on a level must no longer
regard him as having been a slave, and feel annoyed at sitting by his
side." But when the artist approached Garrison on the subject it was
wholly different. "I asked him," Haydon records with obvious pleasure,
"and he met me at once directly."
Thompson was not altogether satisfactory to Garrison either during this
visit as the following extract from one of his letters to his wife
evinces: "Dear Thompson has not been strengthened to do battle for us,
as I had confidently hoped he would be. He is placed in a difficult
position, and seems disposed to take the ground of non-committal,
publicly, respecting the controversy which is going on in the United
States."
Garrison, Rogers, and Remond in the company of Thompson made a
delightful trip into Scotland at this time. Everywhere the American
Abolitionists were met with distinguished attentions. "Though I like
England much, on many accounts," Garrison writes home in high spirits,
"I can truly say that I like Scotland better." An instance, which may be
coupled with that one furnished by Haydon, occurred during this Scottish
tour, and illustrates strongly the kind of stuff of which he was made.
On his way to the great public reception tendered the American delegates
by the Glasgow Emancipation Society, a placard with the caption, _"Have
we no white slaves?"_ was put into his hands. Upon acquainting himself
with its contents he determined to read it to the meeting, and to make
it the text of remarks when he was called upon to address the meeting.
He was presently announced and the immense audience greeted him with
every manifestation of pleasure and enthusiasm, with loud cheering and
waving of handkerchiefs. Nevertheless he held to his purpose to speak
upon the subject of the placard, unwelcome though it should prove to his
hearers. "After reading the interrogation, I said in reply: 'No--broad
as is the empire, and extensive as are the possessions of Great Britain,
not a single _white_ SLAVE can be found in them all;' and I then went on
to show the wide difference that exists between the condition of human
beings who are held and treated as chattels personal, and that of those
who are only suffering from certain forms of political injustice or
governmental oppression.... 'But,' I said, 'although it is not true that
England has any _white_ slaves, either at home or abroad, is it not true
that there are thousands of her population, both at home and abroad, who
are deprived of their just rights, who are grievously oppressed, who are
dying even in the midst of abundance, of actual starvation? YES!' and I
expressly called upon British Abolitionists to prove themselves the true
friends of suffering humanity abroad, by showing that they were the best
friend of suffering humanity at home." Truth, justice, duty, always
overrode with him the proprieties, however sacredly esteemed by others.
Of a piece with this fact of the placard of the _white slave_ was his
custom in refusing the wine proffered by some of his British friends to
their guests. He was not content with a simple refusal and the implied
rebuke which it involved, he must needs couple his declaration with an
express rebuke to host and hostess for tempting men into the downward
way to drunkenness.
While in attendance upon the sessions of the World's Convention Garrison
received tidings, of the birth of his third child. The second, whom he
named for himself, was born in 1838. The third, who was also a son, the
fond father named after Wendell Phillips. Three children and a wife did
not tend to a solution of the always difficult problem of family
maintenance. The pressure of their needs upon the husband sometimes,
simple as indeed they were owing to the good sense and prudence of Mrs.
Garrison, seemed to exceed the weight of the atmospheric column to the
square inch. The fight for bread was one of the bitterest battles of the
reformer's life. The arrangement made in 1837, whereby the Massachusetts
Anti-Slavery Society assumed the responsibility of the publication of
the _Liberator_, Garrison rescinded at the beginning of 1838, for the
sake of giving himself greater freedom in the advocacy in its columns of
the several other reforms in which he had enlisted, besides
Abolitionism. But Garrison and the paper were now widely recognized as
anti-slavery essentials and indispensables. Many of the leaders of the
movement perceived, as Gerritt Smith expressed it in a letter enclosing
fifty dollars for the editor, that "Among the many things in which the
Abolitionists of our country should be agreed, are the two following:
(1) The _Liberator_ must be sustained; (2) its editor must be kept above
want; not only, nor mainly, for his own or his family's happiness; but
that, having his own mind unembarrassed by the cares of griping poverty,
he may be a more effective advocate of the cause of the Saviour's
enslaved poor." A new arrangement, in accordance with this suggestion
for the support of the paper and the preservation of the editor from
want, was made in 1839, and its performance taken in charge by a
committee of gentlemen, who undertook to raise the necessary funds for
those objects. Thus it was that Garrison, through the wise and generous
provision of friends, was enabled to augment the happiness of an
increasing family, and at the same time add to his own effectiveness as
an anti-slavery instrument.
Garrison found occasion soon after his return from the World's
Convention for the employment of all his added effectiveness for
continuing the moral movement against slavery. For what with the strife
and schism in the anti-slavery ranks, followed by the excitements of the
long Presidential canvass of 1840, wherein the great body of the
Abolitionists developed an uncontrollable impulse to political action,
some through the medium of the new Liberty party which had nominated
James G. Birney for the Presidency, while others reverted to the two old
parties with which they had formerly acted--what with all these causes
the pure moral movement started by Garrison was in grave danger of
getting abolished or at least of being reduced to a nullity in its
influence upon public opinion. John A. Collins, the able and resourceful
general agent of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society, wrote in the
deepest anxiety to Garrison from New Bedford, September 1, 1840, on this
head. Says he: "I really wish you understood perfectly the exact
position the friends of the old organization hold to the two great
political parties, and how generally they have been caught up in the
whirlwind of political enthusiasm. Could you but go where I have been,
and have seen and heard what I have seen and heard; could you see
men--aye, and women, too--who have been and still are your warmest
advocates, who have eschewed sectarianism, and lost their caste in the
circle in which they moved, for their strong adherence to your views and
measures, declare that they would sooner forego their Abolitionism than
their party.... Now, these are not the views of here and there a
straggling Abolitionist, but of seven-tenths of all the voting
Abolitionists of the State.... They are entirely unconscious of the
demoralizing influence of their course. They need light, warning,
entreaty, and rebuke." Besides this demoralization of the Abolitionists,
as described by Collins, the parent society at New York fell into bad
financial straits. It was absolutely without funds, and without any
means of supplying the lack. What should it do in its extremity but
appeal to the Massachusetts Society which was already heavily burdened
by its own load, the _Liberator_. The new organ of the national
organization, _The Anti-Slavery Standard_, surely must not be allowed to
fail for want of funds in this emergency. The Boston management rose to
the occasion. Collins was sent to England in quest of contributions from
the Abolitionists of Great Britain. But, great as was the need of money,
the relief which it might afford would only prove temporary unless there
could be effected a thorough anti-slavery revival. This was vital. And
therefore to this end Garrison now bent his remarkable energies.
Agents, during this period when money was scarce, were necessarily few.
But the pioneer proved a host in himself. Resigning the editorial charge
of the _Liberator_ into the capable hands of Edmund Quincy, Garrison
itinerated in the rôle of an anti-slavery lecturer in Massachusetts,
Connecticut, and New Hampshire, reviving everywhere the languishing
interest of his disciples. On the return of Collins in the summer of
1841, revival meetings and conventions started up with increased
activity, the fruits of which were of a most cheering character. At
Nantucket, Garrison made a big catch in his anti-slavery net. It was
Frederick Douglass, young, callow, and awkward, but with his splendid
and inimitable gifts flashing through all as he, for the first time in
his life, addressed an audience of white people. Garrison, with the
instinct of leadership, saw at once the value of the runaway slave's
oratorical possibilities in their relations to the anti-slavery
movement. It was at his instance that Collins added Douglass to the band
of anti-slavery agents. The new agent has preserved his recollections of
the pioneer's speech on that eventful evening in Nantucket. Says he:
"Mr. Garrison followed me, taking me as his text; and now, whether I had
made an eloquent plea in behalf of freedom or not, his was one never to
be forgotten. Those who had heard him oftenest, and had known him
longest, were astonished at his masterly effort. For the time he
possessed that almost fabulous inspiration, often referred to but seldom
attained, in which a public meeting is transformed, as it were, into a
single individuality, the orator swaying a thousand heads and hearts at
once, and by the simple majesty of his all-controlling thought,
converting his hearers into the express image of his own soul. That
night there were, at least, a thousand Garrisonians in Nantucket!"
Here is another picture of Garrison in the lecture-field. It is from the
pen of N.P. Rogers, with whom he was making a week's tour among the
White Mountains, interspersing the same with anti-slavery meetings. At
Plymouth, failing to procure the use of a church for their purpose, they
fell back upon the temple not made with hands.
"Semi-circular seats, backed against a line of magnificent trees to
accommodate, we should judge, from two to three hundred," Rogers
narrates, "were filled, principally with women, and the men who could
not find seats stood on the green sward on either hand; and, at length,
when wearied with standing, seated themselves on the ground. Garrison,
mounted on a rude platform in front, lifted up his voice and spoke to
them in prophet tones and surpassing eloquence, from half-past three
till I saw the rays of the setting sun playing through the trees on his
head.... They (the auditory) heeded it not any more than he, but
remained till he ended, apparently indisposed to move, though some came
from six, eight, and even twelve miles distance." So bravely prospered
the revival agitation, under the vigorous preaching of the indomitable
pioneer.
In the midst of the growing activities of the revival season of the
anti-slavery movement, Garrison had some personal experiences of a
distressing nature. One of these was the case of his quondam friend and
partner in the publication of the _Liberator_, Isaac Knapp. He, poor
fellow, was no longer the publisher of the paper. His wretched business
management of his department tended to keep the _Liberator_ in a state
of chronic financial embarrassment. When the committee, who assumed
charge of the finances of the paper, took hold of the problem, they
determined to let Knapp go. He was paid $150 or $175 as a _quid pro quo_
for his interest in the _Liberator_. Unfortunate in the business of a
publisher, he was yet more unfortunate in another respect. He had become
a victim of intemperance. His inebriety increased upon him, accelerated,
no doubt, by his business failure. Notwithstanding Garrison's strong and
tender friendship for Knapp, the broken man came to regard him as an
enemy, and showed in many ways his jealousy and hatred of his old friend
and partner. Very painful was this experience to the pioneer.
An experience which touched Garrison more nearly arose out of the sad
case of his brother James, who, the reader will recall, ran away from
his mother in Baltimore and went to sea. He ultimately enlisted in the
United States Navy, and what with the brutalities which he suffered at
the hands of his superiors, by way of discipline, and with those of his
own uncontrolled passions and appetites, he was, when recovered by his
brother William, a total moral and physical wreck. But the prodigal was
gathered to the reformer's heart, and taken to his home where in memory
of a mother long dead, whose darling was James, he was nursed and
watched over with deep and pious love. There were sad lapses of the
profligate man even in the sanctuary of his brother's home. The craving
for liquor was omnipotent in the wretched creature, and he was attacked
by uncontrollable desire for drink. But William's patience was infinite,
and his yearning and pity at such times were as sweet and strong as a
mother's. Death rung the curtain down in the fall of 1842, on this
miserable life with its sorry and pathetic scenes.
About this time a trial of a different sort fell to the lot of Garrison
to endure. The tongue of detraction was never more busy with his alleged
infidel doctrines or to more damaging effect. Collins, in England,
seeking to obtain contributions for the support of the agitation in
America found Garrison's infidelity the _great lion_ in the way of
success. Even the good dispositions of the venerable Clarkson were
affected by the injurious reports in this regard, circulated in England
mainly by Nathaniel Colver, a narrow and violent sectary of the Baptist
denomination of the United States. It was, of course, painful to
Garrison to feel that he had become a rock of offence in the path of the
great movement, which he had started and to which he was devoting
himself so energetically. To Elizabeth Pease, one of the noblest of the
English Abolitionists, and one of his stanchest transatlantic friends,
he defended himself against the false and cruel statements touching his
religious beliefs. "I esteem the Holy Scriptures," he wrote her, "above
all other books in the universe, and always appeal to 'the law and the
testimony' to prove all my peculiar doctrines." His religious sentiments
and Sabbatical views are almost if not quite identical with those held
by the Quakers. "I believe in an indwelling Christ," he goes on to
furnish a summary of his confession of faith, "and in His righteousness
alone; I glory in nothing here below, save in Christ and in Him
crucified; I believe all the works of the devil are to be destroyed, and
Our Lord is to reign from sea to sea, even to the ends of the earth; and
I profess to have passed from death unto life, and know by happy
experience, that there is no condemnation to them who are in Christ
Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the spirit." These were
the pioneer's articles of faith. Their extreme simplicity and
theological conservatism it would seem ought to have satisfied the
evangelicals of all denominations. They were in essentials thoroughly
orthodox. But in the composition of the shibboleths of beliefs
non-essentials as well as essentials enter, the former to the latter in
the proportion of two to one. It is not surprising, therefore, that
Garrison's essentials proved unequal to the test set up by sectarianism,
inasmuch as his spiritual life dropped the aspirate of the
non-essentials of religious forms and observances.
But the good man had his compensation as well as his trials. Such of a
very noble kind was the great Irish address brought over from Ireland by
Remond in December 1841. It was signed by Daniel O'Connell, Father
Mathew, and sixty thousand Roman Catholics of Ireland, who called upon
the Irish Roman Catholics of America to make the cause of the slaves of
the United States their cause. Large expectations of Irish assistance in
the anti-slavery agitation were excited in the bosoms of Abolitionists
by this imposing appeal. Garrison shared the high hopes of its
beneficent influence upon the Ireland of America, with many others.
Alas! for the "best laid schemes of mice and men," for the new Ireland
was not populated with saints, but a fiercely human race who had come to
their new home to better their own condition, not that of the negro.
Hardly had they touched these shores before they were Americanized in
the colorphobia sense, out-Heroded Herod in hatred of the colored people
and their anti-slavery friends. Indeed, it was quite one thing to preach
Abolitionism with three thousand miles of sea-wall between one and his
audience, and quite another to rise and do the preaching with no
sea-wall to guard the preacher from the popular consequences of his
preaching, as Father Mathew quickly perceived and reduced to practice
eight years later, when he made his memorable visit to this country. In
vain was the monster document unrolled in Faneuil Hall, and many
Abolitionists with Irish blood were put forward to sweep the chords of
Erin's heart, and to conjure by their eloquence the disciples of St.
Patrick to rally under the banner of freedom. There was no response,
except the response of bitter foes. Erin's harp vibrated to no breeze
which did not come out of the South. The slave-power had been erected
into patron saint by the new Ireland in America, and the new Ireland in
America was very well content with his saintship's patronage and
service. Thus it happened that the great expectations, which were
excited by the Irish address, were never realized. But the pioneer had
other fish in his net, had, in fact, meanwhile, got himself in readiness
for a launch into a new and startling agitation. As to just what this
new and startling agitation was we must refer the reader to the next
chapter.