Rejected as we Abolitionists were generally by the religionists of
every denomination, denounced by many of the clergy as dangerous, yes,
impious persons, refused a hearing in almost all the churches, it was
not strange that the statesmen and politicians had no mercy upon us.
The first most serious opposition from any minister I myself directly
encountered was in the pleasant town of Taunton. I went thither on the
15th of April, 1835, and had a very successful meeting in the Town
Hall, which was filled full with respectable persons of both sexes.
So much interest in the subject was awakened that a large number on
the spot signified their readiness to co-operate with those who were
laboring to procure the abolition of American slavery. To my surprise,
the most prominent minister in the town, a learned and liberal
theologian, and a gentleman of unexceptionable private character, took
the utmost pains to prevent the formation of an auxiliary antislavery
society there. He declared that “the slaves were the property of
their masters,” that “we of the North had no more right to disturb
this _domestic arrangement_ of our Southern brethren, and prevent the
prosecution of their industrial operations, than the planters had to
interfere with our manufactures and commerce.” He dealt out to the
Abolitionists no small number of opprobrious epithets; charged us with
being the cause of the New York mobs of October, 1834, and insisted
that, if we “were permitted to prosecute our measures, it would
inevitably dissolve the Union and cause a civil war.”
This was the substance of the _verbal_ opposition that we met with
everywhere throughout the Northern, Middle, and Western States;
strengthened by the arguments of the civilians and statesmen, intended
to show that the enslavement of the colored population of certain
States was settled by the _founders_ of our Republic, who made several
compromises in relation to it, and gave sundry guarantees to the
slaveholders which must be held sacred.
Many timid persons everywhere, by such assertions and appeals, were
deterred from yielding to the convictions which the self-evident
truths, urged by the Abolitionists, awakened. Still the cause of the
oppressed made visible progress in all parts of the non-slaveholding
States. Alarmed by this, the barons of the South, as Mr. Adams
significantly styled them, stirred up their dependants and partisans
to demand something more of their Northern brethren than denunciation
and opprobrium against the Abolitionists. “They must be put down by
law or _without law_, as the necessity of the case might require.”
And the determination to do _just this_ was at length come to by “the
gentlemen of property and standing” throughout the North, as the New
York merchant, mentioned on the foregoing 127th page informed me.
In pursuance of this determination, the great meeting in Faneuil Hall,
called, as I have said already, by fifteen hundred of the respectable
gentlemen of Boston, was held on the 21st of August, 1835. The grave
misrepresentations, the plausible arguments, the inflammatory appeals
made by the very distinguished civilians who addressed that meeting,
invoked those demon spirits throughout New England that did deeds, of
which I hope the instigators themselves became heartily ashamed.
How devilish those spirits were I was made to know a few evenings
after that never-to-be-forgotten meeting. I went to the quiet town
of Haverhill, by special invitation from John G. Whittier and a
number more of the genuine friends of humanity. I had lectured there
twice before without opposition, and went again not apprehending any
disturbance. The meeting was held in the Freewill Baptist Church,--a
large hall over a row of stores. The audience was numerous, occupying
all the seats and evidently eager to hear. I had spoke about fifteen
minutes, when the most hideous outcries, yells, from a crowd of men
who had surrounded the house startled us, and then came heavy missiles
against the doors and blinds of the windows. I persisted in speaking
for a few minutes, hoping the blinds and doors were strong enough to
stand the siege. But presently a heavy stone broke through one of the
blinds, shattered a pane of glass and fell upon the head of a lady
sitting near the centre of the hall. She uttered a shriek and fell
bleeding into the arms of her sister. The panic-stricken audience
rose _en masse_, and began a rush for the doors. Seeing the danger, I
shouted in a voice louder than I ever uttered before or since, “_Sit
down, every one of you, sit down!_ The doors are not wide; the platform
outside is narrow; the stairs down to the street are steep. If you go
in a rush, you will jam one another, or be thrown down and break your
limbs, if not your necks. If there is any one here whom the mob wish to
injure, it is myself. I will stand here and wait until you are safely
out of the house. But you must go in some order as I bid you.” To my
great joy they obeyed. All sat down, and then rose, as I told them to,
from the successive rows of pews, and went out without any accident.
When the house was nearly empty I took on my arm a brave young lady,
who would not leave me to go through the mob alone, and went out.
Fortunately none of the ill-disposed knew me. So we passed through the
lane of madmen unharmed, hearing their imprecations and threats of
violence to the ---- Abolitionist when he should come out.
It was well we had delayed no longer to empty the hall, for at the
corner of the street above we met a posse of men more savage than the
rest, dragging a cannon, which they intended to explode against the
building and at the same time tear away the stairs; so furious and
bloodthirsty had “the baser sort” been made by the instigations of “the
gentlemen of property and standing.”
In October it was thought advisable for me to go and lecture in
several of the principal towns of Vermont. I did so, and everywhere
I met with contumely and insult. I was mobbed five times. In Rutland
and Montpelier my meetings were dispersed with violence. Of the last
only shall I give any account, because I had been specially invited
to Montpelier to address the Vermont State Antislavery Society. The
Legislature was in session there at that time, and many of the members
of that body were Abolitionists. We were, therefore, without much
opposition, granted the use of the Representatives’ Hall for our first
meeting, on the evening of October 20. A large number of persons--as
many as the hall could conveniently hold--were present, including many
members of the Legislature, and ladies not a few. There were some
demonstrations of displeasure in the yard of the Capitol and a couple
of eggs and a stone or two were thrown through the window before
which I was standing. But their force was spent before they reached
me, and therefore they were not suffered to interrupt my discourse.
At the close, I was requested to tarry in Montpelier and address the
public again the next evening from the pulpit of the First Presbyterian
Church, the largest audience-room in the village. This I gladly
consented to do. But the next morning placards were seen all about the
village, admonishing “the people generally, and ladies in particular,
not to attend the antislavery meeting proposed to be held that evening
in the Presbyterian church, as the person who is advertised to speak
will certainly be prevented, _by violence if necessary_.” In the
afternoon I received a letter signed by the President of the bank, the
Postmaster, and five other “gentlemen of property and standing” in
Montpelier, requesting me to leave town “without any further attempt
to hold forth the absurd doctrine of antislavery, and save them the
trouble of using any other measures to that effect.” But as I had
accepted the invitation to deliver a second lecture, I determined to
make the attempt so to do, these threats notwithstanding. Accordingly,
just before the hour appointed, with a venerable Quaker lady on my arm,
I proceeded to the meeting-house and took a seat in the pulpit. After
a prayer had been offered by Rev. Mr. Hurlbut, I rose to speak. But I
had hardly uttered a sentence when the ringleader of the riot, Timothy
Hubbard, Esq., rose with a gang about him and commanded me to desist.
I replied, “Is this the respect paid to the _liberty of speech_ by the
free people of Vermont? Let any one of your number step forward and
give reasons, if he can, why his fellow-citizens, who wish, should not
be permitted to hear the lecture I have been invited here to deliver.
If I cannot show those reasons to be fallacious, false, I will yield
to your demand. But for the sake of one of our essential rights, the
liberty of speech, I shall proceed if I can.” While I was saying these
words the rioters were still. But so soon as I commenced my lecture
again, Mr. Hubbard and his fellows cried out, “Down with him!” “Throw
him over!” “Choke him!” Hon. Chauncy L. Knapp, then, or afterwards,
I believe, Secretary of State, remonstrated earnestly, implored his
fellow-citizens not to continue disgracing themselves, the town, and
the State. But his words were of no avail. The moment I attempted a
third time to speak the rioters commenced a rush for the pulpit, loudly
shouting their violent intentions. At this crisis Colonel Miller, well
known as the companion of Dr. Howe in a generous endeavor to aid Greece
in her struggle for independence in 1824,--Colonel Miller, renowned for
his courage and prowess, sprang forward and planted himself in front of
the leader, crying in a voice of thunder, “Mr. Hubbard, if you do not
stop this outrage now, I will knock you down!” The rush for the pulpit
was stayed; but such an alarm had spread through the house, that there
was a hasty movement from all parts towards the doors, and my audience
dispersed. Colonel Miller, Mr. Knapp, and several other gentlemen
urged me to remain in town another day and attempt a meeting the next
evening, assuring me that it should be protected against the ruffians.
But it was Friday, and I had engaged to be in Burlington the next day,
to preach for Brother Ingersoll the following Sunday, and deliver an
antislavery lecture from his pulpit in the evening. So I was obliged to
leave our good friends in the capital of Vermont mortified and vexed at
what had occurred there.
But on my arrival at Burlington I received tidings from Boston of a
far greater outrage that had been perpetrated at the same time, in
the metropolis of New England. On page 127 I made mention of the
“well-dressed, gentlemanly” mob of October 21st, which broke up a
regular meeting of the Female Antislavery Society. The fury of the
populace had been incited to the utmost by articles in the _Commercial
Gazette_, the _Courier_, the _Sentinel_, and other newspapers, of which
the following is a specimen: “It is in vain that we hold meetings in
Faneuil Hall, and call into action the eloquence and patriotism of
our most talented citizens; it is in vain that speeches are made and
resolutions adopted, assuring our brethren of the South that we cherish
rational and correct notions on the subject of slavery, if Thompson and
Garrison, and their vile associates in this city, are to be permitted
to hold their meetings in the broad face of day, and to continue their
denunciations against the planters of the South. They _must be put
down_ if we would preserve our consistency. The evil is one of the
greatest magnitude; and _the opinion prevails very generally_ that if
there is no law that will reach it, it must be reached in some other
way.”
Though “the patriots” had been especially maddened by the report that
“the infamous foreign scoundrel, Thompson,” “the British emissary,
the paid incendiary, Thompson,” was to address the meeting, yet, when
assured he was not and would not be there, they did not desist. “But
Garrison is!” was the cry; “snake him out and finish him!” They tore
down the sign of the Antislavery office and dashed it to pieces;
compelled the excellent women to leave their hall, seized upon Mr.
Garrison, tore off his clothes, dragged him through the streets, and
would have hanged him, had it not been for the almost superhuman
efforts of several gentlemen, assisted by some of the police and a
vigorous hack-driver, who together succeeded in getting him to Leverett
Street Jail, where he was committed for safe-keeping.
The disgraceful story was too well told at the time ever to be
forgotten, especially by Mr. Garrison himself, and more especially by
Mrs. Maria Weston Chapman, in a little volume entitled “Right and Wrong
in Boston.”
To show my readers still further how general the determination had
become throughout the Northern States to put down the antislavery
agitation by foul means, I will here only allude to the significant
fact that on the same day, October 21, 1835, a mob, led on or
countenanced by gentlemen of respectability, broke up an antislavery
meeting in Utica, N. Y., and drove out of the city such men as Gerrit
Smith, Alvan Stuart, and Beriah Green. Hereafter I will give a full
account of the infamous proceeding, and of some of its consequences.