Washington, and employed himself in driving a furniture car, and
jobbing about the city. Feeling himself called to preach, he underwent
the required examination, received a license, and, without quitting
his employment, preached as occasion offered. Not long after this,
he removed to New Bedford, Mass., where he resided two years. There
was in Boston a small congregation, worshipping in a little room, but
without a regular preacher. An invitation was extended to Mr. Grimes
to become their pastor. He accepted, came to Boston, and, under his
ministration, the society increased so rapidly that a larger house was
soon needed. A lot was purchased, the edifice begun, and now they have
a beautiful church, capable of seating six or seven hundred persons.
The cost of the building, including the land, was $13,000; all of
which, except $2,000, has been paid. We need not say that this was
accomplished through the untiring exertions of Mr. Grimes. Besides his
labors in the society, he was often engaged in aiding fugitive slaves
in the redemption of their relations from the servitude of the south.
During his fourteen years' residence in Boston, he has had $6,000 pass
through his hands, for the benefit of that class of persons. In action
he is always--
"Upward, onward, pressing forward
Till each bondman's chains shall fall,
Till the flag that floats above us
Liberty proclaims to all."
In 1854, Mr. Grimes became conspicuously connected with the fugitive
slave Anthony Burns. Mainly through his efforts the latter gained his
freedom. The pastor of the Twelfth Baptist Church is, emphatically, a
practical man. Nearly all public meetings are held either in his church
or vestry, he taking a suitable part in every thing that tends to the
welfare of his race. "Brother" Grimes is above the middle size, good
looking, has a full face, a countenance which has the appearance of one
who has seen no trouble, and rather more Anglo-Saxon than African. He
is polite in his manners, and genteel in his personal appearance. As a
preacher, he is considered sound, and well versed in theology. He is
regarded as one of the ablest men in prayer in Boston. His sermons are
characterized by deep feeling and good sense. No man in the city has
fewer enemies or more friends than Leonard A. Grimes.
PRESIDENT GEFFRARD.
Fabre Geffrard, born at Cayes, in the year 1806, was the son of a
general who had shown himself humane under Dessalines, and had been
with Petion, one of the chief promoters of the constitution of 1806.
Left early an orphan, young Geffrard entered the army at the age
of fifteen, and only after twenty-two years' service obtained his
captain's commission. He took part--unwisely, as events proved--in the
revolution of 1843, which overturned the able but indolent Boyer, and
distinguished himself at the head of a small body of troops against the
government forces, deceiving them as to his numbers by the rapidity
of his movements, and as to his resources by supplying provisions to
his famished enemies at a time when he himself was short of rations.
When the revolution, which had originated with the most impatient of
the mulattoes, led in turn to a rising of that portion of the blacks
who represented absolute barbarism, and whose axiom was that every
mulatto should be exterminated, Geffrard marched against and defeated
the black leader, Arcaau; but, true to that humanity which seems
the very basis of his character, we find him in turn defending the
middle classes from the blacks, and the insurgent blacks, when taken
prisoners, from the National Guard. He became lieutenant-general during
these movements; but General Riche, who was made president in 1846, and
who bore Geffrard a grudge for having on a former occasion made him
a prisoner, sent him before a court martial, which, in Hayti, means
sending one to death. Through the adroitness, however, of Riche's
minister of war, the general was acquitted. The president of the court
martial was Soulouque, who seems to have imbibed, on this occasion,
a strange friendship for the man whose life he had been the means of
preserving, and who thus spared him, in an otherwise unaccountable
manner, during his subsequent rule, and even forced on him the title
of duke, which Geffrard did not care to assume. In two disastrous
wars which he undertook, in 1849 and in 1855-6, against the Dominican
republic, Geffrard alone won credit. In the former he was wounded at
the head of the division; in both, by his courage, his activity, his
cheerfulness, and above all, by his anxious care for the welfare of
his soldiers, he exhibited the most striking contrast to Soulouque's
imbecile generalship and brutal indifference to the safety of others.
In 1858, Soulouque, seeing that Geffrard's popularity was becoming
great, sought an opportunity to have him arrested. Spies were placed
near him. The general, however, was warned of his danger, and he knew
that nothing was to be hoped for from Soulouque's ferocity when once
aroused by jealousy. Just then, the emissaries of a conspiracy, formed
in the valley of the Artibonite, beyond the mountain chain which forms
the backbone of the island, were in Port au Prince in search of a
leader. They addressed themselves to Geffrard. The cup of Soulouque's
tyranny was full. Geffrard listened to their solicitations, but was
barely able, by the aid of a friend, to escape in an open boat, on the
very night when he was to have been arrested. He succeeded in reaching
St. Mark, but found that the people were not ready for a revolution. He
repaired to Gonaives, where the inhabitants were thoroughly ripe for
a change of rulers. Thus six men coming by sea, met by three on land,
were sufficient to carry the place without the shedding of a drop of
blood. On the 22d of December, he issued two proclamations, the one
abolishing the empire, the other establishing a republic. From thence
he proceeded to St. Mark, where he was enthusiastically welcomed by
all classes, the army joining him to a man. With two thousand men he
started for Port au Prince, the capital. Soulouque, in the mean time,
gathered his forces, amounting to six thousand well-drilled troops,
and set out to meet his rival, but soon found that his army could not
be relied on, and he returned amid the hootings of the people. The
emperor was permitted to take refuge in the French consulate, and from
thence took passage in an English steamer for Jamaica. Geffrard entered
Port au Prince in triumph; the constitution of 1846 was adopted, and
an election held which chose Geffrard president for life, with the
privilege of nominating his successor. All agree that he is a good
man. His great aim appears to be the moral, social, and intellectual
improvement of the people.
Most of the army have been disbanded; and those retained are better
fed, better paid, and clothed in a more suitable manner. New firearms
have been introduced, reforms instituted both in the government and the
army, agriculture and commerce encouraged, old roads repaired and new
ones built. His state papers show him to be a man of superior natural
abilities, and we believe that he is destined to do more for Hayti and
her people than any ruler since the days of Toussaint L'Ouverture.
Geffrard is a grief in color (nearly black), of middle height,
slim in figure, a pleasing countenance, sparkling eye, gray hair,
fifty-six years of age, limbs supple by bodily exercise, a splendid
horseman, and liberal to the arts, even to extravagance. Possessing a
polished education, he is gentlemanly in his conversation and manners.
His democratic ideas induce him to dress without ornaments of any
kind. Soon after assuming the presidency, he resolved to encourage
immigration, and issued an address to the colored Americans, filled
with patriotic and sympathetic feeling for his race.
GEORGE B. VASHON.
Passing through the schools of Pittsburg, his native place, and
graduating at Oberlin College with the degree of Master of Arts, George
B. Vashon started in life with the advantage of a good education. He
studied law with Hon. Walter Forward, and was admitted to the bar in
1847. He soon after visited Hayti, where he remained nearly three
years, returning home in 1850. Called to a professorship in New York
Central College, Mr. Vashon discharged the duties of the office with
signal ability. A gentleman--a graduate of that institution, now a
captain in the federal army--told the writer that he and several of his
companions, who had to recite to Professor Vashon, made it a practice
for some length of time to search Greek, Latin, and Hebrew, for phrases
and historical incidents, and would then question the professor, with
the hope of "running him on a snag." "But," said he, "we never caught
him once, and we came to the conclusion that he was the best-read
man in the college." Literature has a history, and few histories can
compare with it in importance, significance, and moral grandeur. There
is, therefore, a great price to pay for literary attainments, which
will have an inspiring and liberalizing influence--a price not in
silver and gold, but in thorough mental training. This training will
give breadth of view, develop strength of character and a comprehensive
spirit, by which the ever-living expressions of truth and principle in
the past may be connected with those of a like character in the present.
Mr. Vashon seems to have taken this view of what constitutes the
thorough scholar, and has put his theory into practice. All of the
productions of his pen show the student and man of literature. But
he is not indebted alone to culture, for he possesses genius of no
mean order--poetic genius, far superior to many who have written and
published volumes. As Dryden said of Shakspeare, "he needed not the
spectacles of books to read Nature; he looked inward, and found her
there." The same excellence appertains to his poetical description of
the beautiful scenery and climate of Hayti, in his "Vincent Ogé." His
allusion to Columbus's first visit to the island is full of solemn
grandeur:--
"The waves dash brightly on thy shore,
Fair island of the southern seas,
As bright in joy as when, of yore,
They gladly hailed the Genoese--
That daring soul who gave to Spain
A world-last trophy of her reign."
Our limited space will not permit our giving more of this, or other
poems of Mr. Vashon. The following extract from his admirable essay in
the _Anglo-African Magazine_, entitled, "The Successive Advances of
Astronomy," is characteristic of his prose:--
"The next important step recorded in the annals of astronomy was the
effort to reform the calendar by means of the bissextile year. This
effort was made at the time when Julius Cæsar was chief pontiff at
Rome. It is noteworthy, as being the only valuable contribution made
to astronomical science by the Romans; and, even in this matter, Cæsar
acted under the guidance of the Grecian astronomer Sosigenes. We are
not to suppose, however, that the Romans were totally indifferent to
the subject of astronomy. We are informed by Cicero, in his elegant
treatise concerning 'Old Age,' that Caius Gallus was accustomed to
spend whole days and nights in making observations upon the heavenly
bodies, and that he took pleasure in predicting to his friends the
eclipses of the sun and moon a long time before they occurred. Besides,
in the 'Scipio's Dream' of the same author, we find, in the course of
an admirable dissertation upon the immortality of the soul, an account
of a terrestrial system, according to which our earth was the central
body, around which the concave sphere of the starry heavens revolved;
while, in the space between, the Moon, Venus, Mercury, the Sun, Mars,
Jupiter, and Saturn moved with retrograde courses, in the order here
mentioned. In fact, this system was the one which was afterwards
adopted, elaborated, and zealously maintained by the famous Ptolemy
of Alexandria, and which has ever since borne his name. To Ptolemy,
then, who flourished about the commencement of the second century,
the world is indebted for the first complete system of astronomy that
secured the approbation of all the learned. This it was enabled to do
by the ingenious, although not perfect, explanation which it gave of
the planetary movements, by supposing these bodies to move in circles
whose centres had an easterly motion along an imaginary circle. Thus
these epicycles, as the circles were called, moving along the imaginary
circle, or deferent, cause the planets to have, at times, an apparent
easterly direction, at other times a westerly one, and at other times,
again, to appear stationary. Thus recommended, the Ptolemaic system
continued to gain adherents, until the irruptions of the Huns under
Alaric and Attila, and the destruction of the celebrated library at
Alexandria by the fanatical and turbulent Christians of that city,
laid waste the fair domains of science. Being thus driven from the
places where Learning had fixed her favorite seats, it took refuge
with the Arabs, who preserved it with watchful care, until happier
times restored it to Europe. It returned with the conquering Moors who
established themselves in Spain, was brought again under the notice of
the Christian states in the thirteenth century, through the patronage
of the emperor Frederic II. of Germany, and Alphonso X. of Castile, and
flourished more than two hundred years longer, without any rival to
dispute its claims to correctness."
Mr. Vashon is of mixed blood, in stature of medium size, rather round
face, with a somewhat solemn countenance,--a man of few words,--needs
to be drawn out to be appreciated. While visiting a distinguished
colored gentleman at Rochester, N. Y., some years ago, the host, who
happened to be a wit as well as an orator, invited in "Professor T."--a
man ignorant of education, but filled with big talk and high-sounding
words without understanding their meaning--to entertain Mr. Vashon,
intending it as a joke. "Professor T." used all the language that
he was master of, but to no purpose: the man of letters sat still,
listened, gazed at the former, but did not dispute any point raised.
The uneducated professor, feeling that he had been imposed upon, called
Mr. D. one side, and in a whisper said, "Are you sure that this is an
educated man? I fear that he is an impostor; for I tried, but could not
call him out."
ROBERT MORRIS.
About the year 1837, Ellis Gray Loring, Esq., took into his office, as
an errand boy, a colored lad of fifteen years of age. The youngster
had a better education than those generally of his age, which showed
that he had been attentive at school. He was not long in his new
situation ere he began to exhibit a liking for the contents of the
sheepskin-covered books that stood around on the shelves, and lay upon
the baize-covered tables. Mr. Loring, seeing the aptitude of the lad,
inquired if he wanted to become a lawyer, and was answered in the
affirmative. From that moment the errand boy became the student, and
studied with an earnestness not often equalled. At scarcely twenty-one
years of age he was admitted to the Boston bar. This was Robert Morris.
With all the prejudice before him, he kept steadily on, resolving that
he would overcome the negro-hate which stood in the way of his efforts
to prosecute his profession. Gradually he grew in practice, until
most of his fellow-members forgot his color in the admiration of his
eloquence and business talent. Mr. Morris is of unmixed blood, but not
black. Small in stature, a neat figure, smiling face, always dressed
with the greatest care, gentlemanly in manner and conversation, his
influence has been felt in behalf of his race. He is an interesting
speaker, quick in his gestures, ardent in his feelings, and
enthusiastic in what he undertakes. He rather inclines to a military
life, and has, on more than one occasion, attempted the organization of
an independent company.
At the presentation of the portrait of John T. Hilton to the Prince
Hall Grand Lodge of Boston, Mr. Morris made a speech, of which the
following is an extract:--
"I wish we could point to well-executed likenesses of those old colored
heroes of revolutionary memory, who so nobly, patriotically, and
willingly, side by side with their white brethren, fought, bled, and
died to secure freedom and independence to America.
"It would be a source of continual pleasure could we have in some
public room pictures true to life of those intrepid heroes, Denmark
Veazie and Nat Turner, whose very names were a terror to oppressors;
who, conceiving the sublime idea of freedom for themselves and their
race, animated by a love of liberty of which they had been ruthlessly
deprived, made an attempt to sever their bonds; and though, in such
attempts to open the prison doors of slavery and let the oppressed go
free, they were unsuccessful, their efforts and determination were
none the less noble and heroic. In the future history of our country,
their names to us will shine as brightly as that of the glorious old
hero, who, with his colored and white followers, so strategically
captured Harper's Ferry, and touched a chord in the life of our country
that will vibrate throughout the land, and will not cease until the
last fetter has been struck from the limbs of the last bondman in the
nation; and though the bodies of these heroes lie mouldering in the
clay, their souls are 'marching on.'
"I never visit our 'Cradle of Liberty,' and look at the portraits
that grace its walls, without thinking that the selection is sadly
incomplete, because the picture of the massacred Crispus Attucks is
not there. He was the first martyr in the Boston massacre of March 5,
1770, when the British soldiers were drawn up in line on King (now
State) Street, to intimidate the Boston populace. On that eventful day,
a band of patriots, led by Attucks, marched from Dock Square to drive
the redcoats from the vicinity of the old State House. Emboldened by
the courageous conduct of this colored hero, the band pressed forward,
and in attempting to wrest a musket from one of the British soldiers,
Attucks was shot. His was the first blood that crimsoned the pavement
of King Street, and by the sacrifice of his life, he awoke that fiery
hatred of British oppression which culminated in the declaration of
American independence. At this late day a portrait of this hero cannot
be had; but our children will live to see the day when the people of
this commonwealth, mindful of their deep and lasting obligation, will,
through their legislature, appropriate a sufficient sum wherewith to
erect a suitable monument to preserve the memory of Attucks, and mark
the spot where he fell."
Mr. Morris deserves great credit for having fought his way up to his
present position. Rumor says that his profession has paid him well,
and that he is now a man of property. If so, we are glad; for the poet
writes, "If thou wouldst have influence, put money in thy purse."
WILLIAM J. WILSON.
In the columns of Frederick Douglass's paper, the _Anglo-African
Magazine_, and the _Weekly Anglo-African_, has appeared at times,
over the signature of "Ethiop," some of the raciest and most amusing
essays to be found in the public journals of this country. As a sketch
writer of historical scenes and historical characters,--choosing his
own subjects, suggested by his own taste or sympathies,--few men are
capable of greater or more successful efforts than William J. Wilson.
In his imaginary visit to the "Afric-American Picture Gallery," he
gives the following sketch of the head of Phillis Wheatley.
"This picture hangs in the north-east corner of the gallery, and in
good light, and is so decidedly one of the finest in the collection,
whether viewed in an artistic light or in point of fact, that it is
both a constant charm and study for me. The features, though indicative
of a delicate organization, are of the most pleasing cast. The facial
angle contains full ninety degrees; the forehead is finely formed, and
the brain large; the nose is long, and the nostrils thin, while the
eyes, though not large, are well set. To this may be added a small
mouth, with lips prettily turned, and a chin--that perfection of beauty
in the female face--delicately tapered from a throat and neck that are
of themselves perfection. The whole make-up of this face is an index of
healthy intellectual powers, combined with an active temperament, over
which has fallen a slight tinge of religious pensiveness. Thus hangs
Phillis Wheatley before you in the Afric-American Picture Gallery; and
if we scrutinize her more closely through her career and her _works_,
we shall find her truly an extraordinary person. Stolen at the tender
age of seven years from the fond embraces of a mother, whose image
never once faded from her memory, and ferried over in the _vile slave
ship_ from Afric's sunny clime to the cold shores of America, and
sold under the hammer to a Boston merchant--a delicate child, a girl,
alone, desolate; a chilly, dreary world before her, a chain on her
feet, and a thorn in her bosom, and an iron mask on her head, what
chance, what opportunity was there for her to make physical, moral,
or mental progress? In these respects, how get up to, or keep pace
with, other and more favored people?--how get in the advance?--how
ascend, at last, without a single competitor, the highest scale of
human eminence? Phillis Wheatley did all, and more than this. A sold
thing, a bought chattel at seven years, she mastered, notwithstanding,
the English language in sixteen months. She carried on with her friends
and acquaintances an extensive and elegant epistolary correspondence
at _twelve_ years of age, composed her first poem at _fourteen_,
became a proficient Latin scholar at _seventeen_, and published in
England her book of poems, dedicated to the Countess of Huntington, at
_nineteen_; and with the mantle of just fame upon her shoulders, sailed
from America to England to receive the meed due to her learning, her
talents, and her virtues, at _twenty-two_. What one of America's paler
daughters, contemporary with her, with all the advantages that home,
fortune, friends, and favor bring,--what one ascended so far up the
hill of just fame at any age? I have searched in vain to find the name
upon the literary page of our country's record.
"O Wheatley!
What degrading hand, what slavish chain,
What earthly power, could link thy nobler soul
To baser things, and check its eagle flight?
Angel of purity, child of beauteous song,
Thy harp still hangs within our sight,
To cheer, though thou art gone."
The succeeding extract from his poem "The Coming Man" is very
suggestive, especially at this time.
"I break the chains that have been clanging
Down through the dim vault of ages;
I gird up my strength,--mind and arm,--
And prepare for the terrible conflict.
I am to war with principalities, powers, wrongs
With oppressions,--with all that curse humanity.
I am resolved. 'Tis more than half my task;
'Twas the great need of all my past existence.
The glooms that have so long shrouded me,
Recede as vapor from the new presence,
And the light-gleam--it must be life--
So brightens and spreads its pure rays before,
That I read my mission as 'twere a book.
It is life; life in which none but _men_--
Not those who only wear the form--can live
To give this life to the _World_; to make men
Out of the thews and sinews of oppressed slaves."
Mr. Wilson is a teacher, and whether the following is drawn from his
own experience, or not, we are left to conjecture.
THE TEACHER AND HIS PUPIL.
SCENE.--School Room. School in session.
_Dramatis Personæ._
TEACHER. A bachelor rising thirty.
PUPIL. A beautiful girl of sixteen.
I see that curling and high-archéd brow.
"Scold thee?" Ay, that I will.
Pouting I see thee still;
Thou jade! I know that thou art laughing now!
Silence! hush! nor dare one word to mutter!
If it were e'er so gentle,
(I speak in tone parental,)
Do not thy very softest whisper utter.
I know that startled trembling all a hoax,
Thou pert and saucy thing!
I'll make thy fine ears ring;
I'll pretermit thy silly, taunting jokes.
"Whip thee?" Ay, that I will, and whip thee well;
Thy chattering tongue now hold!
There, there; I will no further scold.
How down those lovely cheeks the hot tears fell!
How quickly changed! Nay, nay; come hither, child.
'Tis with kindness I would rule;
Severity's the erring fool,
Who harms the tender or excites the wild.
What! trembling yet, and shy? Nay, do not fear;
Sure, sure I'll harm thee not;
My gentlest, thine's a better lot;
So raise those azure eyes with radiant cheer.
Cheer up, then; there, now thou canst go. Retain,
I pray, within thy heart,
Not the unpleasant part
That's past. The other let remain.