Although the Quakers were the first, as a religious society, to
recognize the iniquity of slavery, and to wash their hands of it, so
far as to free all the slaves they owned; few of them saw the further
duty of discouraging it by ceasing all commercial intercourse with
slave-holders. They nearly all continued to trade with the South, and
to use the products of slave-labor. After the appearance in this
country of Elizabeth Heyrick's pamphlet, in which she so strongly urged
upon abolitionists the duty of abstinence from all slave products, the
number was increased of those who declined any and every participation
in the guilt of the slave-holder, and exerted themselves to convert
others to the same views; but the majority of selfish and inconsiderate
people is always large, and it refused to see the good results which
could be reasonably expected from such a system of self-denial. As the
older members, also, of Friends' Society were opposed to all exciting
discussions, and to popular movements generally, while the younger ones
could not smother a natural interest in the great reforms of the day;
it followed that, although all were opposed to slavery in the abstract,
there was no fixed principle of action among them. In their ranks were
all sorts: gradualists and immediatists, advocates of unconditional
emancipation, and colonizationists, thus making it impossible to
discuss the main question without excitement. Therefore all discussion
was discouraged and even forbidden.
The Society never counted among its members many colored persons. There
were, however, a few in Philadelphia, all educated, and belonging to
the best of their class. Among them was a most excellent woman, Sarah
Douglass, to whom Sarah and Angelina Grimké became much attached, and
with whom Sarah kept up a correspondence for nearly thirty years.
The first letter of this correspondence which we have, was written in
March, 1885, and shows that Sarah had known very little about her
colored brethren in Philadelphia, and it also shows her inclination
towards colonization. She mentions having been cheered by an account of
several literary and benevolent societies among the colored residents,
expresses warm sympathy with them, and gives them some good, practical
advice about helping themselves. She then says:--
"I went about three weeks ago to an anti-slavery meeting, and heard
with much interest an address from Robert Gordon. It was feeling,
temperate, and judicious; but _one_ word struck my ear unpleasantly. He
said, 'And yet it is _audaciously_ asked: What has the North to do with
slavery?' The word 'audaciously,' while I am ready to admit its
justice, seemed to me inconsistent with the spirit of the Gospel;
although we may abhor the system of slavery, I want us to remember that
the guilt of the oppressor demands Christian pity and Christian prayer.
"My sister went last evening to hear George Thompson. She is deeply
interested in this subject, and was much pleased with his discourse. Do
not the colored people believe that the Colonization Society may prove
a blessing to Africa, that it may be the means of liberating some
slaves, and that, by sending a portion of them there, they may
introduce civilization and Christianity into this benighted region?
That the Colonization Society can ever be the means of breaking the
yoke in America appears to me utterly impossible, but when I look at
poor heathen Africa, I cannot but believe its efforts will be a
blessing to her."
In the next letter, written in April, she descants on the universal
prejudice against color,--"a prejudice," she says, "which will in days
to come excite as much astonishment as the facts now do that
Christians--some of them I verily believe, sincere lovers of God--put
to death nineteen persons and one dog for the crime of witchcraft."
And yet, singularly enough, she does not, at this time, notice the
inconsistency of a separate seat for colored people in all the
churches. In the Quaker meeting this was especially humiliating, as it
was placed either directly under the stairs, or off in a corner, was
called the "negro seat," and was regularly guarded to prevent either
colored people from passing beyond it, or white people from making a
mistake and occupying it. Two years later, Sarah and Angelina both
denounced it; but before that, though they may have privately deplored
it, they seem to have accepted it as a necessary conformity to the
existing feeling against the blacks.
The decision of Friends' Society concerning discussion Sarah Grimké
seems to have accepted, for, as we have said, there is no expression of
her views on emancipation in letters or diary. But Angelina felt that
her obligations to humanity were greater than her obligations to the
Society of Friends; and as she listened to the eloquent speeches of
George Thompson and others, her life-long interest in the slave was
stimulated, and it aroused in her a desire to work for him in some way,
to do something that would practically help his cause.
On one of several loose leaves of a diary which Angelina kept at this
time, we find the following under date, "5th Mo. 12th, 1835: Five
months have elapsed since I wrote in this diary, since which time I
have become deeply interested in the subject of abolition. I had long
regarded this cause as utterly hopeless, but since I have examined
anti-slavery principles, I find them so full of the power of truth,
that I am confident not many years will roll by before the horrible
traffic in human beings will be destroyed in this land of Gospel
privileges. My soul has measurably stood in the stead of the poor
slave, and my earnest prayers have been poured out that the Lord would
be pleased to permit me to be instrumental of good to these degraded,
oppressed, and suffering fellow-creatures. Truly, I often feel ready to
go to prison or to death in this cause of justice, mercy, and love; and
I do fully believe if I am called to return to Carolina, it will not be
long before I shall suffer persecution of some kind or other."
Her fast-increasing enthusiasm alarmed her cautious sister, and drew
from her frequent and serious remonstrances. But that she also
travelled rapidly towards the final rending of the bonds which had
hitherto held her, we find from a letter to Sarah Douglass, written in
the spring of 1835. Speaking of Jay's book of Colonization, which had
just appeared, she says:--
"The work is written for the most part in a spirit of Christian candor
and benevolence. There is here and there a touch of satire or sarcasm I
would rather should have been spared. The subject is one of solemn
importance to our country, and while I do desire that every righteous
means may be employed to give to America a clear and convincing view of
the fearful load of guilt that rests upon her for trading in the souls
of men, yet I do want the friends of emancipation to take no unhallowed
weapons to sever the manacles of the slave. I rejoice in the hope that
all the prominent friends of abolition are peace men. My sister sends
her love to thee. Her mind is deeply engaged in the cause of immediate,
unconditional emancipation. I believe she does often pray for it."
In July, 1835, Angelina went to visit a friend in Shrewsbury, New
Jersey. In this quiet retreat she had ample time for reflection, and
for the study of abolition. She could, she says, think of nothing else;
and the question continually before her was, "What can I do? What can I
do?" But the more she thought, the more perplexed she became. The
certainty that any independent action, whatever, would not only offend
her Society, but grieve her sister, stood in the way of reaching any
conclusion, and kept her in a state of unrest which plainly showed
itself in her letters to Sarah.
Doubtless she did consider Sarah's advice, for she still looked up to
her with filial regard, but before she could do more than consider it,
an event occurred which made the turning point in her career, and
emancipated her forever from the restrictions to which she had so
unwillingly assented.
The difficulty which abolitionists found in holding meetings in Boston,
to be addressed by George Thompson, of England, brought out in July an
Appeal to the citizens of Boston from Mr. Garrison. This reached
Angelina's hands, and so touched her feelings, so aroused all her
anti-slavery enthusiasm, that she could no longer keep quiet. She must
give expression to her sympathy with the great cause. She wrote to the
author--a brave thing for her to do--but we doubt if she could have
refrained even if she could have fully realized the storm of reproach
which the act brought down upon her. On account of its length, I cannot
copy this letter entire, but a few extracts will give an idea of its
general tone and spirit. It is dated Philadelphia, 8th Month 30th,
1835, and begins thus:--
"Respected Friend: It seems as if I was compelled at this time to
address thee, notwithstanding all my reasonings against intruding on
thy valuable time, and the uselessness of so insignificant a person as
myself offering thee the sentiments of sympathy at this alarming
crisis.
"I can hardly express to thee the deep and solemn interest with which I
have viewed the violent proceedings of the last few weeks. Although I
expected opposition, I was not prepared for it so soon--it took me by
surprise--and I greatly feared abolitionists would be driven back in
the first outset, and thrown into confusion.... Under these feelings I
was urged to read thy Appeal to the citizens of Boston. Judge, then,
what were my feelings on finding that my fears were utterly groundless,
and that thou stoodest firm in the midst of the storm, determined to
suffer and to die, rather than yield one inch ... The ground upon which
you stand is holy ground; never, never surrender it."
She then goes on to encourage him to persevere in his work, reminding
him of the persecutions of reformers in past times, and that religious
persecution always began with mobs.
"If," she says, "persecution is the means which God has ordained for
the accomplishment of this great end, Emancipation; then, in dependence
upon Him for strength to bear it, I feel as if I could say, Let It
Come! for it is my deep, solemn, deliberate conviction that this is a
cause worth dying for. I say so, from what I have seen, heard, and
known in a land of slavery, where rests the darkness of Egypt, and
where is found the sin of Sodom. Yes! Let it come--let us suffer,
rather than insurrections should arise."
This letter Mr. Garrison published in the Liberator, to the surprise of
Angelina, and the great displeasure and grief of her Quaker friends.
But she who had just counselled another to suffer and die rather than
abate an inch of his principles was not likely to quail before the
strongly expressed censure of her Society, which was at once
communicated to her. Only over her sister's tender disapproval did she
shed any tears. Her letter of explanation to Sarah shows the sweetness
and the firmness of her character so conspicuously, that I offer no
apology for copying a portion of it. It is dated Shrewsbury, Sept.
27th, 1335, and enters at once upon the subject:--
"My Beloved Sister: I feel constrained in all the tenderness of a
sister's love to address thee, though I hardly know what to say, seeing
that I stand utterly condemned by the standard which thou hast set up
to judge me by--the opinion of my friends. This thou seemest to feel an
infallible criterion. If it is, I have not so learned Christ, for He
says, 'he that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of
me,' etc. I do most fully believe that had I done what I have done in a
church capacity, I should justly incur their censure, because they
disapprove of any intermeddling with the question, but what I did was
done in a private capacity, on my own responsibility. Now, my precious
sister, I feel willing to be condemned by all but thyself, _without_ a
hearing; but to thee I owe the sacred duty of vindication, though
hardly one ray of hope dawns on my mind that I shall be acquitted even
by _thee_. If I know mine own heart, I desire _not_ to be acquitted; if
I have erred, or if this trial of my faith is needful for me by Him who
knoweth with what food to feed His poor dependent ones, thou hast been
with me in heights and in depths, in joy and in sorrow, therefore to
thee I speak. Thou knowest what I have passed through on the subject of
slavery; thou knowest I am an exile from the home of my birth because
of slavery--therefore, to thee I speak.
"Previous to my writing that letter, I believe four weeks elapsed,
during which time, though I passed through close and constant exercise,
I did not read anything on the subject of abolition, except the pieces
in the Friends' paper and the _Pennsylvanian_ relative to the
insurrections and the bonfires in Charleston. I was afraid to read.
After this, I perused the Appeal. I confess I could not read it without
tears, so much did its spirit harmonize with my own feelings. This
introduced my mind into deep sympathy with Wm. Lloyd Garrison. I found
in that piece the spirit of my Master; my heart was drawn out in prayer
for him, and I felt as if I would like to write to him, but forebore
until this day four weeks ago, when it seemed to me I _must_ write to
him. I put it by and sat down to read, but I could not read. I then
thought that perhaps writing would relieve _my own mind_, without it
being required of me to send what I wrote. I wrote the letter and laid
it aside, desiring to be preserved from sending it if it was wrong to
do so. On Second Day night, on my bended knees, I implored Divine
direction, and next morning, after again praying over it, I felt easy
to send it, and, after committing it to the office, felt anxiety
removed, and as though I had nothing more to do with it. Thou knowest
what has followed. I think on Fifth Day I was brought as low as I ever
was. After that my Heavenly Father was pleased in great mercy to open
the windows of heaven, and pour out upon my grief-bound, sin-sick soul,
the showers of His grace, and in prayer at the footstool of mercy I
found that relief which human hearts denied me. A little light seemed
to arise. I remembered how often, in deep and solemn prayer, I had told
my Heavenly Father I was willing to suffer anything if I could only aid
the great cause of emancipation, and the query arose whether this
suffering was not the peculiar kind required of me. Since then I have
been permitted to enjoy a portion of that peace which human hands
cannot rob me of, though great sadness covers my mind; for I feel as
though my character had sustained a deep injury in the opinion of those
I love and value most--how justly, they will best know at a future day.
Silent submission is my portion, and in the everlasting strength of my
Master, I humbly trust I shall be enabled to bear whatever is put upon
me.
"I have now said all I have to say, and I leave this text with thee:
'Judge not by appearance, but judge righteous judgment;' and again,
'Judge nothing before the time.' Farewell. In the love of the blessed
Gospel of God's Son, I remain, thy afflicted sister.
"A.E.G."
The entry in Sarah's diary respecting this incident is as follows. The
date is two days before that of Angelina's letter to her.
"The suffering which my precious sister has brought upon herself by her
connection with the anti-slavery cause, which has been a sorrow of
heart to me, is another proof how dangerous it is to slight the clear
convictions of truth. But, like myself, she listened to the voice of
the tempter. Oh! that she may learn obedience by the things that she
suffers. Of myself I can say, the Lord brought me up out of the
horrible pit, and my prayer for her is that she may be willing to bear
the present chastisement patiently."
In Angelina's diary, she describes very touchingly some of her trials
in this matter. Writing in September, 1835, after recording in similar
language to that used in her letter to Sarah the state of feelings
under which she wrote and sent the letter to Garrison, she says:--
"I had some idea it might be published, but did not feel at liberty to
say it must not be, for I had no idea that, if it was, my name would be
attached to it. As three weeks passed and I heard nothing of it, I
concluded it had been broken open in the office and destroyed. To my
great surprise, last Fourth Day, Friend B. came to tell me a letter of
mine had been published in the Liberator. He was most exceeding tried
at my having written it, and also at its publication. He wished me to
re-examine the letter, and write to Wm. Lloyd Garrison, expressing
disapproval of its publication, and altering some portions of it. His
visit was, I believe, prompted by the affection he bears me, but he
appeared utterly incapable of understanding the depth of feeling under
which that letter was written. The editor's remarks were deeply trying
to him. Friend B. seemed to think they were the ravings of a fanatic,
and that the bare mention of my precious brother's name was a disgrace
to his character, when coupled with mine in such a cause and such a
paper, or rather in a cause advocated in such a way. I was so
astonished and tried that I hardly knew what to say. I declined,
however, to write to W.L.G., and said I felt willing to bear any
suffering, if it was only made instrumental of good. I felt my great
unworthiness of being used in such a work, but remembered that God hath
chosen the weak things of this world to confound the wise. But I was
truly miserable, believing my character was altogether gone among my
dearest, most valued friends. I was indeed brought to the brink of
despair, as the vilest of sinners. A little light dawned at last, as I
remembered how often I had told the Lord if He would only prepare me to
be, and make me, instrumental in the great work of emancipation, I
would be willing to bear any suffering, and the question arose, whether
this was not the peculiar kind allotted to me. Oh, the extreme pain of
extravagant praise! to be held up as a saint in a public newspaper,
before thousands of people, when I felt I was the chief of sinners.
Blushing, and confusion of face were mine, and I thought the walls of a
prison would have been preferable to such an exposure. Then, again, to
have my name, not so much my name as the name of Grimké, associated
with that of the despised Garrison, seemed like bringing disgrace upon
my family, not myself alone. I felt as though the name had been
tarnished in the eyes of thousands who had before loved and revered it.
I cannot describe the anguish of my soul Nevertheless, I could not
blame the publication of the letter, nor would I have recalled it if I
could.
"My greatest trial is the continued opposition of my precious sister
Sarah. She thinks I have been given over to blindness of mind, and that
I do not know light from darkness, right from wrong. Her grief is that
I cannot see it was wrong in me ever to have written the letter at all,
and she seems to think I deserve all the suffering I have brought upon
myself."
We approach now the most interesting period in the lives of the two
sisters. A new era was about to dawn upon them; their quiet, peaceful
routine was to be disturbed; a path was opening for them, very
different from the one which had hitherto been indicated, and for which
their long and painful probation had eminently prepared them. Angelina
was the first to see it, the first to venture upon it, and for a time
she travelled it alone, unsustained by her beloved sister, and feeling
herself condemned by all her nearest friends.