CHAPTER XV.

The anti-slavery cause, and intimate association with so many of its

enthusiastic advocates, had indeed done much for Sarah Grimké. Her

mind was rapidly becoming purified from the dross that had clogged it

so long; religious doubts and difficulties were fading away one by

one, and the wide, warm sympathies of her nature now freed, expanded

gladly to a new world of light and love and labor. As she expressed

it, she was like one coming into a clear brisk atmosphere, after

having been long shut up in a close room. Her drowsy faculties were

all stirred and invigorated, and though her disappointments had left

wounds whose pain must always remind her of them, she had no longer

time to sit down and bemoan them. There was so much to do in the

broad, fresh fields which stretched around her, and she had been idle

so long! Is it any wonder that she tried to grasp too much at first?

The affection between her and Angelina was growing daily more

tender--perhaps a little more maternal on her part. Drawn closer

together by the now complete separation from every member of their own

family, and by the disapproval and coldness of their Philadelphia

friends, they were an inexpressible solace and help to each other.

Identified in all their trials, as now in their labors, they worked

together in a sweet unity of spirit, which lessened every difficulty

and lightened every burden.

They continued to lecture almost uninterruptedly for five months, and

though the prejudice against them as women appeared but slightly

diminished, people were becoming familiarized to the idea of women

speaking in public, and the way was gradually being cleared for the

advance-guard of that noble army which has brought about so many

changes favorable to the weak and downtrodden of its own sex.

Invitations to speak came to the sisters from all parts of the State,

and not even by dividing their labors among the smaller towns could

they begin to respond to all who wished to hear them. Sometimes the

crowds around the place of meeting were so great that a second hall or

church would have to be provided, and Sarah speak in one, while

Angelina spoke in the other. At one place, where over a thousand

people crowded into a church, one of the joists gave way; it was

propped up, but soon others began to crack, and, although the people

were warned to leave that part of the building, only a few obeyed, and

it was found impossible to persuade them to go, or to consent to have

the speaking stopped.

At another place ladders were put up at all the windows, and men

crowded upon them, and tenaciously held their uncomfortable positions

through the whole meeting. In one or two places they were refused a

meeting-house, on account of strong sectarian feeling against them as

Quakers. At Worcester they had to adjourn from a large Congregational

church to a small Methodist one, because the clergyman of the former

suddenly returned from an absence, and declared that if they spoke in

his church he would never enter it again. At Bolton, notices of their

meetings were torn down, but the town hall was packed notwithstanding,

many going away, unable to get in. The church here had also been

refused them. Angelina, in the course of her lecture, seized an

opportunity to refer to their treatment, saying that if the people of

her native city could see her lecturing in that hall because every

church had been closed against the cause of God's down-trodden

creatures, they would clap their hands for joy, and say, "See what

slavery is doing for us in the town of Bolton!"

She describes very graphically going two miles to a meeting on a dark

and rainy night, when Sarah was obliged to remain at home on account

of a cold, and Abby Kelly drove her in a chaise, and how nearly they

came to being upset, and how they met men in flocks along the road,

all going to the meeting. She says:--

"It seemed as if I could not realize they were going to hear me," and

adds:--

"This was the first large meeting I ever attended without dear sister,

and I wonder I did not feel desolate, for I knew not a creature there.

Nevertheless, the Lord strengthened me, and I spoke with ease for an

hour and a quarter."

But the incessant strain upon her nervous system, together with the

fatigue and exposure of almost constant travelling, began to tell

seriously on her health. In October she frequently speaks of being "so

tired," of being "so glad to rest a day," etc., until, all these

warnings being unheeded, nature peremptorily called a halt. In the

beginning of November, after a week of unusual fatigue, having

lectured six times in as many different places, they reached Hingham

quite worn out. Sarah, though still suffering with a cold, begged to

lecture in her sister's place, but Angelina had been announced, and

she knew the people would be disappointed if she failed to appear.

When they entered the crowded hall, a lady seeing how unwell Angelina

looked, seized both her hands and exclaimed:--

"Oh, if you will only hold out to-night, I will nurse you for a week!"

She did hold out for an hour and a half, and then sank back exhausted,

and was obliged to leave the lecture unfinished. This was the

beginning of an illness which lasted, with its subsequent

convalescence, through the remainder of the year. Their good friends,

Samuel and Eliza Philbrick, brought the sisters to their beautiful

home in Brookline, and surrounded them with every care and comfort

kind hearts could suggest. Sarah then found how very weary she was

also, and how opportune was this enforced rest.

"Thus," wrote Angelina some weeks afterwards to Jane Smith, "thus

ended our summer campaign. Oh, how delightful it was to stretch my

weary limbs on a bed of ease, and roll off from my mind all the heavy

responsibilities which had so long pressed upon it, and, above all, to

feel in my soul the language, 'Well done.' It was luxury indeed, well

worth the toil of months."

Sarah, too, speaks of looking back upon the labors of the summer with

feelings of unmixed satisfaction.

That the leaven prepared in Sarah Grimké's letters on the "Province of

Woman" was beginning to work was evidenced by a public discussion on

woman's rights which took place at the Boston Lyceum on the evening of

Dec. 4, 1837. The amount of interest this first public debate on the

subject excited was shown by the fact that an audience of fifteen

hundred of the most intelligent and respectable people of Boston

crowded the hall and listened attentively to the end. Sarah and

Angelina, the latter now almost entirely recovered, were present,

accompanied by Mr. Philbrick.

"A very noble view throughout," says Angelina, and adds: "The

discussion has raised my hopes of the woman question. It was conducted

with respect, delicacy, and dignity, and many minds no doubt were

roused to reflection, though I must not forget to say it was decided

against us by acclamation, our enemies themselves being judges. It was

like a meeting of slave-holders deciding that the slaves are happier

in their present condition than they would be freed."

Soon after this, Angelina writes that some Boston women, including

Maria Chapman and Lydia M. Child, were about to start a woman's rights

paper, and she adds: "We greatly hope dear Maria Chapman will soon

commence lecturing, and that the spark we have been permitted to kindle

on the woman question will never die out."

The annual meeting of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society was held

the latter part of January, 1838, and was notable in several respects.

On the second day, the "great Texas meeting," as it was called, was

held in Faneuil Hall, and the fact that this Cradle of Liberty was

loaned to the abolitionists was bitterly commented upon by their

opponents, while abolitionists themselves regarded it as strong

evidence of the progress their cause had made. Angelina writes Jane

Smith a graphic account of the speakers and speeches at this meeting,

but especially mentions Henry B. Stanton, who made the most powerful

speech of the whole session, and was so severe on Congress, that a

representative who was present arose to object to the "hot thunderbolts

and burning lava" that had been let loose on the heads of "the powers

that be, of those whom we were commanded to honor and obey." These

remarks were so ridiculous as to excite laughter, and the manner in

which Stanton demolished the speaker by his own arguments called forth

such repeated rounds of applause that the great orator was obliged to

_insist_ upon silence.

At this meeting, said to have been the largest ever held in Boston,

several hundred women were present, a most encouraging sign to Sarah

Grimké of the progress of _her_ ideas.

After some parleying, the hall of the House of Representatives was

granted the Society for their remaining meetings, and here Quincy,

Colver, Phelps, and Wendell Phillips spoke and made a deep impression,

so deep that a committee was appointed to take into consideration the

petitions on the subject of slavery.

Stanton, half in jest, asked Angelina if she would not like to speak

before that committee, as the names of some thousands of women were

before it as signers of petitions. She had never thought of such a

thing, but, after reflecting upon it a day, sent Stanton word that if

the friends of the cause thought well of it, she _would_ speak as he

had proposed. He was surprised and troubled, for, though he was all

right in the abstract on the woman question, he feared the

consequences of such a manifest assertion of equality.

"It seems," Angelina writes, "even the stout-hearted tremble when the

woman question is to be acted out in full. Jackson, Fuller, Phelps,

and Quincy were consulted. The first is sound to the core, and went

right up to the State House to inquire of the chairman of the

committee whether I could be heard. Wonderful to tell, he said Yes,

without the least hesitation, and actually helped to remove the

scruples of some of the timid-hearted abolitionists. Perhaps it is

best I should bear the responsibility _wholly_ myself. I feel willing

to do it, and think I shall say nothing more about it, but just let

Birney and Stanton make the speeches they expect to before the

committee this week, and when they have done, make an independent

application to the chairman as a woman, as a Southerner, as a moral

being.... I feel that this is the most important step I have ever been

called to take: important to woman, to the slave, to my country, and

to the world."

This plan was carried out, thanks to James C. Alvord, the chairman of

the committee; and the halls of the Massachusetts Legislature were

opened for the first time to a woman. Wendell Phillips says of that

meeting:--"It gave Miss Grimké the opportunity to speak to the best

culture and character of Massachusetts; and the profound impression

then made on a class not often found in our meetings was never wholly

lost. It was not only the testimony of one most competent to speak,

but it was the profound religious experience of one who had broken out

of the charmed circle, and whose intense earnestness melted all

opposition. The converts she made needed no after-training. It was

when you saw she was opening some secret record of her own experience

that the painful silence and breathless interest told the deep effect

and lasting impression her words were making."

We have not Angelina's account of this meeting, but referring to it in

a letter to Sarah Douglass, she says: "My heart never quailed before,

but it almost died within me at that tremendous hour."

But one hearing did not satisfy her, and the committee needed no

urging to grant her another. At the second meeting, the hall was

literally packed, and hundreds went away unable to obtain seats. When

she arose to speak, there was some hissing from the doorways, but the

most profound silence reigned through the crowd within. Angelina first

stood in front of the Speaker's desk, then she was requested to occupy

the Secretary's desk on one side, and soon after, that she might be

seen as well as heard, she was invited to stand in the Speaker's

place. And from that conspicuous position she spoke over two hours

without the least interruption. She says to Sarah Douglass:--

"What the effect of these meetings is to be, I know not, nor do I feel

that _I_ have anything to do with it. This I know, that the chairman

was in tears almost the whole time I was speaking," and she adds: "We

abolition women are turning the world upside down, for during the

whole meeting there was sister seated up in the Speaker's chair of

state."

These meetings were followed by the six evening lectures at the Odeon,

to which reference has already been made. Sarah delivered the first

lecture, taking for her subject the history of the country in

reference to slavery. She spoke for two hours, fearlessly, as she

always did, and though she says Garrison told her he trembled with

apprehension, the audience of fifteen hundred people listened

respectfully and attentively, frequently applauding the utterance of

some strongly expressed truth, and showing no excitement even under

the rebukes she administered to Edward Everett, then Governor of

Massachusetts, for his speech in Congress in 1826, and to ex-Governor

Lincoln for his in 1831. Both these worthies had declared their

willingness to go down South to suppress servile insurrection.

This was the last time Sarah spoke in public. Her throat, which had

long troubled her, was now seriously affected, and entire rest was

prescribed. She did not murmur, for she had increasingly felt that

Angelina's speaking was more effective than hers, and now she believed

the Lord was showing her that this part of the work must be left to

her more gifted sister, and she gladly yielded to her the task of

delivering the five succeeding lectures. In relation to these

lectures, the son of Samuel Philbrick has kindly sent me the following

extract from a diary kept by his father. Under date of April 23, 1838,

he says:--

"In February Angelina addressed the committee of our legislature on

the subject of slavery and the slave trade in the District of Columbia

and Florida, and the inter-state slave trade, during three sittings of

two hours each, in the Representatives' Hall in Boston, before a

crowded audience, stowed as close as they could stand in every aisle

and corner. Her addresses were listened to with profound attention and

respect, without interruption to the last. More than five hundred

people could not get seats, but stood quietly during two full hours,

in profound silence.

"During the last few weeks she has delivered five lectures, and Sarah

one at the Odeon, before an assembly of men and women from all parts

of the city. Every part of the building was crowded, every aisle

filled. Estimated number, two thousand to three thousand at each

meeting. There was great attention and silence, and the addresses were

intensely interesting."

These over, the sisters bade farewell to their most excellent

Brookline friends, in whose family they had so peacefully rested for

six months, and returned to Philadelphia, Sarah accepting a temporary

home with Jane Smith, while Angelina went to stay with Mrs. Frost, at

whose house two weeks later, that is on the 14th of May, she was

united in marriage to Theodore D. Weld.

No marriage could have been more true, more fitting in every respect.

The solemn relation was never entered upon in more holiness of purpose

or in higher resolve to hold themselves strictly to the best they were

capable of. It was a rededication of lives long consecrated to God and

humanity; of souls knowing no selfish ambition, seeking before all

things the glory of their Creator in the elevation of His creatures

everywhere. The entire unity of spirit in which they afterwards lived

and labored, the tender affection which, through a companionship of

more than forty years, knew no diminution, made a family life so

perfect and beautiful that it brightened and inspired all who were

favored to witness it. No one could be with them under the most

ordinary circumstances without feeling the force and influence of

their characters.

Invitations were sent to about eighty persons, mostly abolitionists,

of all colors, some jet black. Nearly all came; representing

Pennsylvania, New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, Rhode Island, and

Massachusetts. Among them were H.B. Stanton, C.C. Burleigh, William

Lloyd Garrison, Amos Dresser, H.C. Wright, Maria and Mary Chapman,

Abby Kelly, Samuel Philbrick, Jane Smith, and Sarah Douglass of

course, and Mr. Weld's older brother, the president of the asylum for

deaf mutes. Sarah Grimké's account of the wedding, written to a friend

in England, is most interesting; and one cannot but wonder if another

like it ever took place. The letter was written while the then and

ever after inseparable trio was at Manlius, New York, visiting Mr.

Weld's family. After a slight mention of other matters, she says:--

"I must now give thee some account of my dear sister's marriage, which

probably thou hast already heard of. Her precious husband is

emphatically a man of God, a member of the Presbyterian Church. Of

course Angelina will be disowned for forming this connection, and I

shall be for attending the marriage. We feel no regret at this

circumstance, believing that the discipline which cuts us off from

membership for an act so strictly in conformity with the will of God,

and so sanctioned by His word as is the marriage of the righteous,

must be anti-Christian, and I am thankful for an opportunity to

testify against it. The marriage was solemnized at the house of our

sister, Anna R. Frost, in Philadelphia, on the 14th instant. By the

law of Pennsylvania, a marriage is legal if witnessed by twelve

persons. Neither clergyman nor magistrate is required to be present.

Angelina could not conscientiously consent to be married by a

clergyman, and Theodore D. Weld cheerfully consented to have the

marriage solemnized in such manner as comported with her views. We all

felt that the presence of a magistrate, a stranger, would be

unpleasant to us at such a time, and we therefore concluded to invite

such of our friends as we desired, and have the marriage solemnized as

a religious act, in a religious and social meeting. Neither Theodore

nor Angelina felt as if they could bind themselves to any preconceived

form of words, and accordingly uttered such as the Lord gave them at

the moment. Theodore addressed Angelina in a solemn and tender manner.

He alluded to the unrighteous power vested in a husband by the laws of

the United States over the person and property of his wife, and he

abjured all authority, all government, save the influence which love

would give to them over each other as moral and immortal beings. I

would give much could I recall his words, but I cannot. Angelina's

address to him was brief but comprehensive, containing a promise to

honor him, to prefer him above herself, to love him with a pure heart

fervently. Immediately after this we knelt, and dear Theodore poured

out his soul in solemn supplication for the blessing of God on their

union, that it might be productive of enlarged usefulness, and

increased sympathy for the slave. Angelina followed in a melting

appeal to our Heavenly Father, for a blessing on them, and that their

union might glorify Him, and then asked His guidance and

over-shadowing love through the rest of their pilgrimage. A colored

Presbyterian minister then prayed, and was followed by a white one,

and then I felt as if I could not restrain the language of praise and

thanksgiving to Him who had condescended to be in the midst of this

marriage feast, and to pour forth abundantly the oil and wine of

consolation and rejoicing. The Lord Jesus was the first guest invited

to be present, and He condescended to bless us with His presence, and

to sanction and sanctify the union which was thus consummated. The

certificate was then read by William Lloyd Garrison, and was signed by

the company. The evening was spent in pleasant social intercourse.

Several colored persons were present, among them two liberated slaves,

who formerly belonged to our father, had come by inheritance to sister

Anna, and had been freed by her. They were our invited guests, and we

thus had an opportunity to bear our testimony against the horrible

prejudice which prevails against colored persons, and the equally

awful prejudice against the poor."

This unconventional but truly religious marriage ceremony was in

perfect harmony with the loyal, noble natures of Theodore Weld and

Angelina Grimké, exemplifying the simplicity of their lives and the

strength of their principles. No grand preparations preceded the

event; no wedding bells were rung on the occasion; no rare gifts were

displayed: but the blessing of the lowly and the despised, and the

heart-felt wishes of co-workers and co-sufferers were the offerings

which lent to the occasion its purest joy and brightest light.

But though so quietly and peacefully solemnized, this marriage was to

have its celebration,--one little anticipated, but according well with

the experiences which had preceded it, and serving to make it all the

more impressive and its promises more sacred.

Refused the use of churches and lecture-rooms, and denied the

privilege of hiring halls for their meetings, the abolitionists of

Philadelphia, with other friends of free discussion, formed an

association, and built, at an expense of forty thousand dollars, a

beautiful hall, to be used for free speech on any and every subject

not of an immoral character. Daniel Neall was the president of this

association, and William Dorsey the secretary. The hall, one of the

finest buildings in the city, was situated at the southwest corner of

Delaware, Sixth, and Harris streets, between Cherry and Sassafras

streets.

It was opened for the first time on Angelina Grimké's wedding-day, and

was filled with one of the largest audiences ever assembled in

Philadelphia.

As soon as the president of the association had taken his seat, the

secretary arose and explained the uses and purposes the hall was

expected to serve. He said:--

"A number of individuals of all sects, and those of no sect, of all

parties, and those of no party, being desirous that the citizens of

Philadelphia should possess a room wherein the principles of _liberty_

and _equality of civil rights_ could be freely discussed, and the

evils of slavery fearlessly portrayed, have erected this building,

which we are now about to dedicate to liberty and the rights of

man.... A majority of the stockholders are mechanics or working-men,

and (as is the case in almost every other good work) a number are

women."

The secretary then proceeded to read letters from John Quincy Adams,

Thaddeus Stevens, Gerrit Smith, Theodore Weld, and others, who had

been invited to deliver addresses, but who, from various causes, were

obliged to decline. That from Weld was characteristic of the

earnestness of the man. After stating that for a year and a half he

had been prevented from speaking in public on account of an affection

of the throat, and must therefore decline the invitation of the

committee, he adds:--

"I exult in the erection of your 'temple of freedom,' and the more, as

it is the first and only one, in a republic of fifteen millions,

consecrated to free discussion and equal rights."

"For years they have been banished from our halls of legislation and

of justice, from our churches and our pulpits. It is befitting that

the city of Benezet and of Franklin should be the first to open an

asylum where the hunted exiles may find a home. God grant that your

Pennsylvania Hall may be _free, indeed!_"

"The empty name is everywhere,--_free_ government, _free_ men, _free_

speech, _free_ people, _free_ schools, and _free_ churches. Hollow

counterfeits all! _Free!_ It is the climax of irony, and its million

echoes are hisses and jeers, even from the earth's ends. _Free! Blot

it out_. Words are the signs of _things_. The substance has gone! Let

fools and madmen clutch at shadows. The husk must rustle the more when

the kernel and the ear are gone. Rome's loudest shout for liberty was

when she murdered it, and drowned its death shrieks in her hoarse

huzzas. She never raised her hands so high to swear allegiance to

freedom as when she gave the death-stab, and madly leaped upon its

corpse; and her most delirious dance was among the clods her hands had

cast upon its coffin. _Free!_ The word and sound are omnipresent masks

and mockers. An impious lie, unless they stand for free _lynch law_

and free _murder_, for they _are_ free.

"But I'll hold. The times demand brief speech, but mighty deeds. On,

my brethren! uprear your temple. "Your brother in the sacred strife

for all,

"THEODORE D. WELD."

David Paul Brown, of Philadelphia, was invited to deliver the

dedicatory address, which, with other exercises, occupied the mornings

and evening of three days, and included addresses by Garrison, Thomas

P. Hunt, Arnold Buffum, Alanson St. Clair, and others, on slavery,

temperance, the Indians, right of free discussion, and kindred topics.

On the second day, an appropriate and soul-stirring poem by John G.

Whittier was read by C.C. Burleigh. The first lines will give an idea

of the spirit of the whole poem, one of the finest efforts Whittier

ever made:--

"Not with the splendors of the days of old,

The spoil of nations and barbaric gold,

No weapons wrested from the fields of blood,

Where dark and stern the unyielding Roman stood,

And the proud eagles of his cohorts saw

A world war-wasted, crouching to his law;

Nor blazoned car, nor banners floating gay,

Like those which swept along the Appian Way,

When, to the welcome of imperial Rome,

The victor warrior came in triumph home,

And trumpet peal, and shoutings wild and high,

Stirred the blue quiet of th' Italian sky,

But calm and grateful, prayerful, and sincere,

As Christian freemen only, gathering here,

We dedicate our fair and lofty hall,

Pillar and arch, entablature and wall,

As Virtue's shrine, as Liberty's abode,

Sacred to Freedom, and to Freedom's God."

The Anti-Slavery Convention of American Women was then holding a

session in the city, and among the members present were some of the

brightest and noblest women of the day, women with courage as calm and

high to dare, as with hearts tender to feel for human woe. The

Convention occupied the lecture-room of Pennsylvania Hall, under the

main saloon. A strong desire having been expressed by many citizens to

hear some of these able pleaders for the slave, notice was given that

there would be a meeting in the main saloon on the evening of the

16th, at which Angelina, E.G. Weld, Maria Chapman, and others would

speak.

Up to the time of this announcement, no apprehension of any

disturbance had been felt by the managers of the hall. So far all the

meetings had been conducted without interruption; nor could anyone

have supposed it possible that in a city renowned for its order and

law, and possessing a large and efficient police force, a public

outrage upon an assemblage of respectable citizens, many of them

women, could be perpetrated. But it was soon to be shown how deeply

the spirit of slavery had infused itself into the minds of the people

of the free States, leading them to disregard the rights of

individuals and to wantonly violate the sacred principles guaranteed

by the Constitution of the country.

During the day some threats of violence were thrown out, and _written_

placards were posted about the city inviting interference with the

proposed meeting, _forcibly if necessary_. But this was regarded only

as the expression of malice on the part of a few, or perhaps of an

individual, and occasioned no alarm. Still, the precaution was taken

to request the mayor to hold his police force in readiness to protect

the meeting in case of need. The day passed quietly. Long before the

time announced for the meeting, the hall, capable of containing three

thousand people, was thronged, and, by the time the speakers arrived,

every seat was filled, every inch of standing room was occupied, and

thousands went away from the doors unable to obtain admittance. The

audience was for the most part a highly respectable and intelligent

one, and, notwithstanding the great crowd, was exceedingly quiet.

William Lloyd Garrison opened the meeting with a short but

characteristic speech, during which he was frequently interrupted by

hisses and groans; and when he ended, some efforts were made to break

up the meeting. In the midst of the confusion, Maria W. Chapman arose,

calm, dignified, and, with a wave of her hand, as though to still the

noise, began to speak, but, before she had gone far, yells from the

outside proclaimed the arrival there of a disorderly rabble, and at

once the confusion inside became so great, that, although the brave

woman continued her speech, she was not heard except by those

immediately around her.

Sarah Grimké thus wrote of Mrs. Chapman's appearance on that occasion:

"She is the most beautiful woman I ever saw; the perfection of

sweetness and intelligence being blended in her speaking countenance.

She arose amid the yells and shouts of the infuriated mob, the crash

of windows and the hurling of stones. She looked to me like an angelic

being descended amid that tempest of passion in all the dignity of

conscious superiority."

Then Angelina Weld, the bride of three days, came forward, and so

great was the effect of her pure, beautiful presence and quiet,

graceful manner, that in a few moments the confusion within the hall

had subsided. With deep solemnity, and in words of burning eloquence,

she gave her testimony against the awful wickedness of an institution

which had no secrets from her. She was frequently interrupted by the

mob, but their yells and shouts only furnished her with metaphors

which she used with unshrinking power. More stones were thrown at the

windows, more glass crashed, but she only paused to ask:--

"What is a mob? What would the breaking of every window be? Any

evidence that we are wrong, or that slavery is a good and wholesome

institution? What if that mob should now burst in upon us, break up

our meeting, and commit violence upon our persons--would this be

anything compared with what the slaves endure? No, no: and we do not

remember them 'as bound with them,' if we shrink in the time of peril,

or feel unwilling to sacrifice ourselves, if need be, for their sake.

I thank the Lord that there is yet life enough left to feel the truth,

even though it rages at it--that conscience is not so completely

seared as to be unmoved by the truth of the living God."

Here a shower of stones was thrown through the windows, and there was

some disturbance in the audience, but quiet was again restored, and

Angelina proceeded, and spoke for over an hour, making no further

reference to the noise without, and only showing that she noticed it

by raising her own voice so that it could be heard throughout the

hall.

Not once was a tremor or a change of color perceptible, and though the

missiles continued to fly through the broken sashes, and the hootings

and yellings increased outside, so powerfully did her words and tones

hold that vast audience, that, imminent as seemed their peril,

scarcely a man or woman moved to depart. She sat down amid applause

that drowned all the noise outside.

Abby Kelly, then quite a young woman, next arose and said a few words,

her first public utterances. She was followed by gentle Lucretia Mott

in a short but most earnest speech, and then this memorable meeting,

the first of the kind where men and women acted together as moral

beings, closed.

There was a dense crowd in the streets around the hall as the immense

audience streamed out, but though screams and all sorts of appalling

noises were made, no violence was offered, and all reached their homes

in safety.

But the mob remained, many of its wretched members staying all night,

assaulting every belated colored man who came along. The next morning

the dregs of the populace, and some respectable _looking_ men again

assembled around the doomed hall, but the usual meetings were held,

and even the convention of women assembled in the lecture room to

finish up their business. The evening was to have been occupied by a

public meeting of the Wesleyan Anti-Slavery Society of Philadelphia,

but as the day waned to its close, the indications of approaching

disturbance became more and more alarming. The crowd around the

building increased, and the secret agents of slavery were busy

inflaming the passions of the rabble against the abolitionists, and

inciting it to outrage. Seeing this, and realizing the danger which

threatened, the managers of the hall gave the building over to the

protection of the mayor of the city, _at his request_. Of course the

proposed meeting was postponed. All the mayor did was to appear in

front of the hall, and, in a friendly tone, express to the mob the

hope that it would not do anything disorderly, saying that he relied

upon the men he saw before him, as his _policemen_, and he wished them

"good evening!" The mob gave "three cheers for the mayor," and, as

soon as he was out of sight, extinguished the gas lights in front of

the building. The rest is soon told. Doors and windows were broken

through, and with wild yells the reckless horde dashed in, plundered

the Repository, scattering the books in every direction, and, mounting

the stairways and entering the beautiful hall, piled combustibles on

the Speaker's forum, and applied the torch to them, shrieking like

demons,--as they were, for the time. A moment more, and the flames

roared and crackled through the building, and though it was estimated

that fifteen thousand persons were present, and though the fire

companies were early on the scene, not one effort was made to save the

structure so recently erected, at such great cost, and consecrated to

such Christian uses. In a few hours the smouldering walls alone were

left.

Angelina Weld never again appeared in public. An accident soon after

her marriage caused an injury of such a nature that her nervous system

was permanently impaired, and she was ever after obliged to avoid all

excitement or over-exertion. The period of her public labors was

short, but how fruitful, how full of blessings to the cause of the

slave and to the many who espoused it through her powerful appeals!

Great was her grief; for, knowing now her capabilities, she had looked

forward to renewed and still more successful work; but she accepted

with sweet submission the cross laid upon her. Not a murmur arose to

her lips. She was content to leave all to the Lord. He could find some

new work for her to do. She would trust Him, and patiently wait.

The loss of the services of one so richly endowed, so devoted, and so

successful, was deeply felt by the friends of emancipation, and

especially as at this important epoch efficient speakers were sorely

needed, and two of the most efficient, Weld and Burleigh, were

already, from overwork, taken from the platform.

But though denied the privilege of again raising her voice in behalf

of the oppressed, Angelina continued to plead for them through her

pen. She could never forget the cause that could never forget her, and

to her writings was transferred much of the force and eloquence of her

speaking.

Immediately after the destruction of Pennsylvania Hall, Mr. and Mrs.

Weld, accompanied by Sarah Grimké, paid a visit to Mr. Weld's parents

in Manlius, from which place, Sarah, writing to Jane Smith, says:--

"O Jane, it looks like almost too great a blessing for us three to be

together in some quiet, humble habitation, living to the glory of God,

and promoting the happiness of those around us; to be spiritually

united, and to be pursuing with increasing zeal the great work of the

abolition of slavery."

The "quiet, humble habitation" was found at Fort Lee, on the Hudson,

and there the happy trio settled down for their first housekeeping.

The Grimké sisters · 第 15 / 18 章