They were scarcely settled amid their new surroundings before the
sisters received a formal notice of their disownment by the Society of
Friends because of Angelina's marriage. The notification, signed by
two prominent women elders of the Society, expressed regret that Sarah
and Angelina had not more highly prized their right of membership, and
added an earnest desire that they might come to a sense of their real
state, and manifest a disposition to condemn their deviations from the
path of duty.
Angelina replied without delay that they wished the discipline of the
Society to have free course with regard to them. "It is our joy," she
wrote, "that we have committed no offence for which Christ Jesus will
disown us as members of the household of faith. If you regret that we
have valued our right of membership so little, we equally regret that
our Society should have adopted a discipline which has no foundation
in the Bible or in reason; and we earnestly hope the time may come
when the simple Gospel rule with regard to marriage, 'Be not unequally
yoked together with unbelievers,' will be as conscientiously enforced
as that sectarian one which prohibits the union of the Lord's own
people if their shibboleth be not exactly the same.
"We are very respectfully, in that love which knows no distinction in
color, clime, or creed, your friends,
"A.E.G. WELD.
"SARAH M. GRIMKÉ."
It will be noticed that in this reply Angelina avoids the Quaker
phraseology, and neither she nor Sarah ever after used it, except
occasionally in correspondence with a Quaker friend.
Thus ended their connection with the Society of Friends. From that
time they never attached themselves to any religious organization, but
rested contentedly in the simple religion of Christ, illustrating by
every act of their daily lives how near they were to the heart of all
true religion.
As I am approaching the limits prescribed for this volume, I can, in
the space remaining to me, only note with any detail the chief
incidents of the years which followed Angelina's marriage. I would
like to describe at length the beautiful family life the trio created,
and which disproved so clearly the current assertion that interest in
public matters disqualifies woman for home duties or make these
distasteful to her. In the case of Sarah and Angelina those duties
were entered upon with joy and gratitude, and with the same
conscientious zeal that had characterized their public labors. The
simplicity and frugality, too, which marked all their domestic
arrangements, and which neither thought it necessary to apologize for
at any time, recall to one's mind the sweet pictures of Arcadian life
over which goodness, purity, and innocence presided, creating an
atmosphere of perfect inward and outward peace.
Sarah's letters detail their every-day occupations, their division of
labor, their culinary experiments, often failures,--for of practical
domestic economy they had little knowledge, though they enjoyed the
new experience like happy children. She tells of rambles and picnics
along the Hudson, climbing rocks to get a fine view, halting under the
trees to read together for a while, taking their simple dinner in some
shady nook, and returning weary but happy to their "dear little No.
3," as she designates their house.
"Oh, Jane," she writes, "words cannot tell the goodness of the Lord to
us since we have sat down under the shadow of our own roof, and
gathered around our humble board. Peace has flowed sweetly through our
souls. The Lord has been in the midst, and blessed us with his
presence, and the daily aspiration of our souls is: Lord, show us thy
will concerning us." And in another letter she says, "We are delighted
with our arrangement to do without a girl. Angelina boils potatoes to
admiration, and says she finds cooking much easier than she expected."
During the summer they were gratified by a visit from their good
friend Jane, who, it appears, gave them some useful and much-needed
lessons in the art of cookery. But about this time Sarah became
converted to the Graham system of diet, which Mr. "Weld had adopted
three, and Mrs. Weld two years before. Sarah thus writes of it:--
"We have heard Graham lectures, and read Alcott's 'Young Housekeeper,'
and are truly thankful that the Lord has converted us to this mode of
living, and that we are all of one heart and one mind. We believe it
is the most conducive to health, and, besides, it is such an
emancipation of woman from the toils of the kitchen, and saves so much
precious time for purposes of more importance than eating and
drinking. We have a great variety of dishes, and, to our taste, very
savory. We can make good bread, and this with milk is an excellent
meal. This week I am cook, and am writing this while my beans are
boiling and pears stewing for dinner. We use no tea or coffee, and
take our food cool."
She then tells of the arrival one day of two friends from the city,
just as they had sat down to their simple meal of rice and molasses.
"But," she says, "we were very glad to see them, and with bread and
milk, and pie without shortening, and hominy, we contrived to give
them enough, and as they were pretty hungry they partook of it with
tolerable appetite." Answering some inquiries from Jane Smith,
Angelina writes:--
"As to how I have made out with cooking, it so happens that labor
(planting a garden) gives Theodore such an appetite that everything is
sweet to him, so that my rice and asparagus, potatoes, mush, and
Indian bread all taste well, though some might think them not fit to
eat."
They had but one cooking day, when enough was generally prepared to
last a week, so that very little time and mind was given to creature
comforts; in fact, no more than was necessary to the preservation of
health. Their motto literally was "to eat to live," and this they felt
to be a part of that non-conformity to the world of which the apostle
speaks, and after which Sarah, at least, felt she must still strive.
Their furniture corresponded with the simplicity of their table.
Angelina writes shortly after her marriage:--
"We ordered our furniture to be made of cherry, and quite enjoy the
cheapness of our outfit as well as our manner of life; for the less we
spend, the less the Anti-Slavery Society will have to pay my Theodore
for his labors as editor of all the extra publications of the
Society."
Thus some high or unselfish motive inspired all their conduct and
influenced every arrangement. Nothing superfluous or merely ornamental
found a place with these true and zealous followers of Him whose
precepts guided their lives. Everything in doors and out served a
special purpose of utility, or suggested some duty or great moral aim.
Angelina was exceedingly fond of flowers, but refrained from
cultivating them, because of the time required, which she thought
could be better employed. She felt she had no right to use one moment
for her own selfish gratification which could be given to some more
necessary work. Therefore, though both sisters were peculiarly gifted
with a love of the beautiful, as their frequent descriptions of
natural scenery show, they contented themselves, from principle, with
the enjoyment of "glorious sunsets," and with the flowers of the field
and wayside. Later they learned a different appreciation of all the
innocent pleasures of life; but at the time I am describing, they had
just emerged from Quaker asceticism, and in the flush of their new
religion, and looking upon their past years as almost wasted, they
were eager only to make amends for them. In one of her letters to her
English friend, Angelina acknowledges the present from her of a large
picture of a _Kneeling Slave_, and adds:--
"We purpose pasting it on binder's boards, binding it with colored
paper, and fixing it over our mantelpiece. It is just such a speaking
monument of suffering as we want in our parlor, and suits my fireboard
most admirably. I first covered this with plain paper, and then
arranged as well as I could about forty anti-slavery pictures upon it.
I never saw one like it, but we hope other abolitionists will make
them when they see what an ornamental and impressive article of
furniture can thus be manufactured. We want those who come into our
house to see at a glance that we are on the side of the oppressed and
the poor."
Sarah Douglass spent a day with them in September, and as I can have
no more fitting place to show how conscientious were these rare
spirits in their practical testimony against the color prejudice, I
will quote a few passages from a letter written to Sarah Douglass
after her departure from the circle where she had been treated as a
most honored guest. Sarah Grimké begins as follows:--
"Thy letter, my beloved Sarah, was truly acceptable as an evidence of
thy love for us, and because it told us one of our Lord's dear
children had been comforted in being with us. It would have been truly
grateful to have had thee a longer time with us, and we hope thy next
visit may be less brief. By the way, dear, as I love frankness, I am
going to tell thee what I have thought in reading thy note. It seemed
to me thy proposal 'to spend a day' with us was made under a little
feeling something like this: 'Well, after all, I am not quite certain
I shall be an acceptable visitor.' I can only say that it is no
surprise to me that thou shouldst be beset with such a temptation, but
set a strong guard against this entrance to thy heart, lest the
adversary poison all the springs of comfort. I want thee to rise above
the suspicions which are so naturally aroused. They are among the
subtle devices of Satan, by which he alienates us from Jesus, and
makes us go mourning on our way with the language in our hearts: 'Is
there not a cause?'"
Angelina adds:--
"MY DEAR SARAH,--I can fully unite with my precious sister in all she
has said relative to thy late visit to us. Theodore and I both felt
surprised and disappointed that thou proposedst spending but one day
with us when we had expected a visit of a week. It was indeed a
comfort to receive such a letter from thee, dear, and yet there was
much of pain mingled in the feeling. Thou thankest us for our
'Christian conduct.' In what did it consist? In receiving and treating
thee as an equal, a sister beloved in the Lord? Oh, how humbling to
receive such thanks! What a crowd of reflections throng the mind as we
inquire, _Why_ does her full heart thus overflow with gratitude? Yes,
how irresistibly are we led to contemplate the woes which iron-hearted
prejudice inflicts on the oppressed of our land, the hidden sorrows
they endure--the full cup of bitterness which is wrung out to them by
the hands of professed followers of Him who is no respecter of
persons. And oh, how these reflections ought to lead us to labor and
to pray that the time may soon come when thou canst no longer write
_such_ a letter! The Lord in his mercy has made our little household
_one_ in sentiment on this subject, and we know we have been blessed
in the exercise of those Christian feelings which He hath taught us to
cherish, not only towards the outraged people of color, but towards
that large class of individuals who serve in families, and are, at the
same time, almost completely separated from human society and sympathy
so far as their employers are concerned.
"Let me tell thee, dear Sarah, how much good it did me to find that
thy visit had made thee love my precious husband as a brother, and
afforded thee an opportunity to _feel_ what manner of spirit is his.
Now I greatly want thy dear mother to know him too, and cannot but
believe she will come and visit us next summer."
The gratitude of Sarah Douglass for the reception given her at Fort
Lee was not surprising, considering how different such kindness was
from the treatment she and her excellent mother had always received
from the Society of Friends, of which they were members. Scarcely
anything more damaging to the Christian spirit of the Society can be
found than the testimony of this mother and daughter, which Sarah
Grimké obtained and wrote out, but, I believe, never published.
Before his marriage, Mr. Weld lodged, on principle, in a colored
family in New York, even submitting to the inconvenience of having no
heat in his room in winter, and bearing with singular charity and
patience what Sarah calls the sanctimonious pride and Pharisaical
aristocracy of his hosts. He, also, and the sisters when they were in
the city, attended a colored church, which, however, became to Sarah,
at least, a place of such "spiritual famine" that she gave up going.
In the winter of 1839-40, when it became necessary to have more help
in the household, a colored woman, Betsy Dawson by name, was sent for.
She had been a slave in Colonel Grimké's family, and, falling to the
share of Mrs. Frost when the estate was settled up, was by her
emancipated. She was received into the family at Fort Lee as a friend,
and so treated in every respect. Sarah expresses the pleasure it was
to have one as a helper who knew and loved them all, and adds:
"Besides I cannot tell thee how thankful we are that our heavenly
Father has put it in our power to have one who was once a slave in our
family to sit at our table and be with us as a sister cherished, to
place her on an entire equality with, us in social intercourse, and do
all we can to show her we feel for her as we, under like
circumstances, would desire her to feel for us. I don't know what M.C.
[a friend from New York] thought of our having her at table and in our
parlor just like one of ourselves."
Some time later, Angelina writes of another of the family slaves,
Stephen, to whom they gave a home, putting him to do the cooking,
lest, being unaccustomed to a Northern climate, he should suffer by
exposure to outdoor work. He proved an eyesore in every way, but they
retained him as long as it was possible to do so, and bore with him
patiently, as no one else would have him. Mrs. Weld frequently allowed
him to hire out for four or five hours a day to husk corn, etc., and
was glad to give him this opportunity to earn something extra while
she did his work at home. In short, wherever and whenever they could
testify to their convictions of duty on this point, it was done
unhesitatingly and zealously, without fear or favor of any man. We
might consider the incidents I have related, and a dozen similar ones
I could give, as evidence only of a desire to perform a religious
duty, to manifest obedience to the command to do as they would be done
by, while beneath still lay the bias of early training sustained by
the almost universal feeling concerning the inferiority of the negro
race. With people of such pure religious dedication, and such exalted
views, it was perhaps not difficult to treat their ex-slaves as human
beings, and the fact that they did so may not excite much wonder. But
there came a time, then far in their future, when the sincerity of
their convictions upon this matter of prejudice was most triumphantly
vindicated.
Such a vindication even they, with all their knowledge of the hidden
evils of slavery, never dreamed could ever be required of _them_, but
the manner in which they met the tremendous test was the crowning
glory of their lives. In all the biographies I have read, such a
manifestation of the spirit of Jesus Christ does not appear. This will
be narrated in its proper place.
Happy as the sisters were in their home, it must not be supposed that
they had settled down to a life of ease and contented privacy,
abandoning altogether the great work of their lives. Far from it. The
time economized from household duties was devoted chiefly to private
labor for the cause, from the public advocacy of which they felt they
had only stepped aside for a time. Neither had any idea that this
public work was over. Angelina writes to her friend in England soon
after her marriage:--
"I cannot tell thee how I love this private life--how I have thanked
my heavenly Father for this respite from public labor, or how
earnestly I have prayed that whilst I am thus dwelling at ease I may
not forget the captives of my land, or be unwilling to go forth again
on the high places of the field, to combat the giant sin of Slavery
with the smooth stones of the river of Truth, if called to do so by
Him who put me forth and went before me in days that are past. My dear
Theodore entertains the noblest views of the rights and
responsibilities of woman, and will never lay a straw in the way of my
lecturing. He has many times strengthened my hands in the work, and
often tenderly admonished me to keep my eye upon my great Leader, and
my heart in a state of readiness to go forth whenever I am called out.
I humbly trust I may, but as earnestly desire to be preserved from
going before I hear a voice saying unto me, 'This is the way, walk in
it, and I will be thy shield and thy buckler.' This was the promise
which was given me before, and how faithfully it was fulfilled, my
soul knoweth right well."
Sarah too, writes to Sarah Douglass--
"I have thought much of my present situation, laid aside from active
service, but I see no pointing of the divine finger to go forth, and I
believe the present dispensation of rest has been granted to us not
only as a reward for past faithfulness, but as a means of personal
advancement in holiness, a time of deep searching of heart, when the
soul may contemplate itself, and seek nearer and fuller and higher
communion with its God."
And again she says:--
"It is true my nature shrinks from public work, but whenever the
mandate goes forth to declare on the housetops that which I have heard
in the ear, I shall not dare to hold back. I conclude that whenever my
Father needs my services, He will prepare me to obey the call by
exercise of mind."
In the meanwhile Sarah finished and published a most important
contribution to the arguments on the woman's rights subject. This was
a small volume of letters on the "Equality of the Sexes," commenced
during her lecturing tour, and addressed to Mary S. Parker, president
of the Boston Female Anti-Slavery Society. Written in a gentle,
reverent spirit, but clothed in Sarah's usual forcible language, they
not only greatly aided the cause which lay so near her heart, but
relieved and strengthened many tender consciences by their strong
arguments.
An extract or two from a letter written to Sarah by Angelina and
Theodore early in the autumn of 1838 will show the tender relations
existing between these three, and which continued undisturbed by all
the changes and trials of succeeding years.
In September, Sarah went to Philadelphia to attend the Annual
Anti-Slavery Convention. Angelina writes to her a few days after her
departure:--
"We have just come up from our evening meal, my beloved sister, and
are sitting in our little study for a while before taking our
moonlight ramble on the river bank. After thou left us, I cleared up
the dishes, and then swept the house; got down to the kitchen just in
time for dinner, which, though eaten alone, was, I must confess, very
much relished, for exercise gives a good appetite, thou knowest. I
then set my beans to boil whilst I dusted, and was upstairs waiting,
ready dressed, for the sound of the 'Echo's' piston. Soon I heard it,
and blew my whistle, which was _not_ responded to, and I began to fear
my Theodore was not on board. But I blew again, and the glad response
came merrily over the water, and I thought I saw him. In a little
while he came, and gave me all your parting messages. On Second Day
the weather was almost cold, and we were glad to take a run at noon up
the Palisades and sun ourselves on the rock at the first opening.
Returning, we gathered some field beans, and some apples for stewing,
as our fruit was nearly out. In the evening it was so cool that we
thought a fire would be more comfortable, so we sat in the kitchen,
paring apples, shelling beans, and talking over the Bible argument;[8]
and, as we had a fire, I thought we had better stew the apples at
once. This was done to save time the next day, but I burnt them sadly.
However, thou knowest they were just as nice to our Theodore, who
_never_ complains of anything. Third Day evening we took a walk up the
Palisades. The moon shone most beautifully, throwing her mantle of
light all abroad over the blue arch of heaven, the gently flowing
river, and the woods and vales around us. I could not help thinking,
if earth was so lovely and bright, what must be the glories of that
upper Temple which needeth not the light of the sun or of the moon. O
sister, shall we ever wash our robes so white in the blood of the Lamb
as to be clean enough to enter that pure and holy Temple of the Most
High? We returned to our dear little home, and went to bed by the lamp
of heaven; for we needed no other, so brightly did she shine through
our windows. We remembered thee, dear sister, in our little seasons of
prayer at the opening and closing of each day. We pray the Lord to
bring thee back to us in the fulness of the blessing of the Gospel of
peace, and to make our house a _home_ to thy weary, tossed, afflicted
spirit. We feel it a great blessing to have thee under our roof. Thy
room looks very desolate; for, though the sun shines brightly in it, I
find, after all, _thou_ art the light of it."
[8] This was the argument which Angelina heard Mr. Weld make before
the A.S. Convention in New York two years before, and which was
afterwards published by the A.A.S. Society. He was now revising it
for a new edition. It made many converts to emancipation. Among them
was the Rev. Dr. Brisbane of South Carolina, a slave-owner, who,
after reading it, sat down to answer and refute it; but, before
proceeding half way, he became convinced that he was wrong, and Weld
right. Acting upon this conviction, he freed his slaves, went to
Cincinnati, joined the abolition ranks, and became one of their most
eloquent advocates.
Theodore adds a postscript, addresses Sarah as "My dearly loved
sister," and says, "As dear Angy remarks, your room does look so chill
and desolate, and your place at table, and your chair in our little
morning and evening circle, that we talk about it a dozen times a day.
But we rejoice that the Master put it into your heart to go and give
your testimony for our poor, suffering brothers and sisters, wailing
under bonds, and we pray without ceasing that He who sent will teach,
strengthen, and help you greatly to do for Him and the bleeding
slave."
Debarred from lecturing by the condition of his throat, Mr. Weld was a
most untiring worker in the Anti-Slavery office in New York, from
which he received a small salary. His time out of office hours was
employed in writing for the different anti-slavery papers, and in
various editorial duties. Soon after his marriage he began the
preparation of a book, which, when issued, produced perhaps a greater
sensation throughout the country than anything that had yet been
written or spoken. This was, "American Slavery as it is: Testimony of
a Thousand Witnesses," a book of two hundred and ten pages, and
consisting of a collection of facts relating to the actual condition
and treatment of slaves; facts drawn from slaveholders themselves, and
from Southern publications. The design was to make the South condemn
herself, and never was success more complete. Of all the lists of
crimes, all the records of abominations, of moral depravity, of
marvellous inhumanity, of utter insensibility to the commonest
instincts of nature, the civilized world has never read anything equal
to it. Placed by the side of Fox's "Book of Martyrs," it outrivals it
in all its revolting characters, and calls up the burning blush of
shame for our country and its boasted Christian civilization.
Notwithstanding all that had been written on the subject, the public
was still comparatively ignorant of the sufferings of the slaves, and
the barbarities inflicted upon them. Mr. Weld thought the state of the
abolition cause demanded a work which would not only prove by argument
that slavery and cruelty were inseparable, but which would contain a
mass of incontrovertible facts, that would exhibit the horrid
brutality of the system. Nearly all the papers, most of them of recent
date, from which the extracts were taken, were deposited at the office
of the American Anti-Slavery Society in New York, and all who thought
the atrocities described in Weld's book were incredible, were invited
to call and examine for themselves.
This book was the most effective answer ever given to the appeal made
against free discussion, based on the Southampton massacre. It was, in
fact, an offset of the horrors of that bloody affair, giving, as it
did, a picture of the deeper horrors of slavery. It was the first
adequate disclosure of this "bloodiest picture in the book of time,"
which had yet been made, and all who read it felt that, fearful as was
the Virginia tragedy, the system which provoked it included many
things far worse, and demanded investigation and discussion. Issued in
pamphlet form, the "Testimony of a Thousand Witnesses," was
extensively circulated over the country, and most advantageously used
by anti-slavery lecturers and advocates; and it is not too much to say
that by awakening the humanity and pride of the people to end this
national disgrace, it made much easier the formation of the
anti-slavery political party.
In the preparation of this work, Mr. Weld received invaluable
assistance from his wife and sister. Not only was the testimony of
their personal observation and experience given over their own names,
but many files of Southern papers were industriously examined for such
facts as were needed, and which Mr. Weld arranged. Early in January,
1839, Sarah writes:--
"I do not think we ever labored more assiduously for the slave than we
have done this fall and winter, and, although our work is of the kind
that may be privately performed, yet we find the same holy peace in
doing it which we found in the public advocacy of the cause."
Referring a little later to this work, she says: "We have been almost
too busy to look out on the beautiful winter landscape, and have been
wrought up by our daily researches almost to a frenzy of justice,
intolerance, and enthusiasm to crush the viper that is eating out the
vitals of the nation. Oh, what a blessed privilege to be engaged in
labor for the oppressed! We often think, if the slaves are never
emancipated, we are richly rewarded by the hallowed influence of
abolition principles on our own hearts."
In a recent letter to me, Mr. Weld makes some interesting statements
respecting this work. I will give them in his own words:--
"The fact is, those dear souls spent six months, averaging more than
six hours a day, in searching through thousands upon thousands of
Southern newspapers, marking and cutting out facts of slave-holding
disclosures for the book. I engaged of the Superintendent of the New
York Commercial Reading-Room all his papers published in our Southern
States and Territories. These, after remaining upon the files one
month, were taken off and sold. Thus was gathered the raw material for
the manufacture of 'Slavery As It Is.' After the work was finished, we
were curious to know how many newspapers had been examined. So we went
up to our attic and took an inventory of bundles, as they were packed
heap upon heap. When our count had reached _twenty thousand_
newspapers, we said: 'There, let that suffice.' Though the book had in
it many thousand facts thus authenticated by the slave-holders
themselves, yet it contained but a tiny fraction of the nameless
atrocities gathered from the papers examined."
Besides this absorbing occupation, the sisters busied themselves that
winter getting up a petition to Congress for the abolition of slavery
in the District of Columbia, and walked many miles, day after day, to
obtain signatures, meeting with patience, humility, and sweetness the
frequent rebuffs of the rude and the ignorant, feeling only pity for
them, and gratitude to God who had touched and softened their own
hearts and enlightened their minds.
They received repeated invitations from the different anti-slavery
organizations to again enter the lecture field, and great
disappointment was felt by all who had once listened to them that they
should have retired from public work.
Sarah speaks of attending "meeting," as, from habit, she called it,
and doubtless they all went regularly, as Mr. Weld was a communicant
of the Presbyterian Church, and Mrs. Weld and Sarah were still sound
on all the fundamental points of Christian doctrine. During some
portion of every Sunday, Mrs. Weld was in the habit of visiting among
the very poor, white and colored, and preaching to them the Gospel of
peace and good will. In her peculiarly tender and persuasive way, she
opened to those unhappy and benighted souls the promises and hopes
which supported her, and lavished upon them the treasures of an
eloquence that thousands had and would still have crowded to listen
to. There were none to applaud in those sorrowful abodes, but her
words of courage and consolation lifted many a despondent heart from
the depths, while her own faith in the love and mercy of her heavenly
Father brought confidence and comfort to many a benumbed and wavering
soul.
In December, 1839, the happiness of the little household was increased
by the birth of a son, who received the name of Charles Stuart, in
loving remembrance of the eminent English philanthropist, with whom
Mr. Weld had been as a brother, and whom he regarded as living as near
the angels as mortal man could live. The advent of this child was not
only an inexpressible blessing to the affectionate hearts of the
father and mother, but to Sarah it seemed truly a mark of divine love
to her, compensating her for the home ties and affections once so
nearly within her grasp, and still often mourned for. She describes
her feelings as she pressed the infant in her arms and folded him to
her breast as a rhapsody of wild delight. "Oh, the ecstacy and the
gratitude!" she exclaimed: "How I opened the little blanket and peeped
in to gaze, with swimming eyes, at my treasure, and looked upon that
face forever so dear!"
For months before the birth of her child, Mrs. Weld had read carefully
different authors on the treatment of children, and felt herself
prepared at every point with the best theories derived from Combes'
"Physiological and Moral Management of Infancy," and kindred works. It
is rather amusing to read how systematically this baby was trained,
and how little he appreciated all the wise theories; how he protested
against going to sleep by rule; how he wouldn't be bathed in cold
water; how he was fed, a tablespoonful at a time, five times during
the twenty-four hours,--at 8, 12, 4, 8, and 3 in the morning; how his
fretting at last induced his Aunt Sarah to take the responsibility of
giving him a little license with his bottle, when, horrified at his
gluttony, she was, at the same time, convinced that the child had been
slowly starving ever since his birth. Allowed more indulgence in food,
he soon stopped fretting, and became a healthy, lively baby.
Angelina, writing to a friend, speaks of the blessed influence the
child was exerting over them all. "The idea," she says, "of a baby
exercising moral influence never came into my mind until I felt its
power on my own heart. I used to think all a parent's reward for early
care and anxiety was reaped in after-life, save the enjoyment of an
infant as a pretty plaything. But the Lord has taught me differently,
and woe be unto me if I do not profit by the instructions of this
little teacher sent from God."
It was about this time that the injury referred to in the last chapter
was received, which frustrated all Angelina's hopes and plans for
continued public service for the slave, and condemned her, with all
her rare intellectual gifts, to a quiet life. The sweet submission
with which she bore this trial proved how great was the peace which
possessed her soul, and kept her ready for whatever it seemed good for
the Father to send her. Henceforth, shut out from the praises and
plaudits of men, in her own home, among her neighbors and among the
poor and afflicted, quietly and unobtrusively she fulfilled every law
of love and duty. And though during the remainder of her life she was
subject to frequent weakness and intense pain, all was borne with such
fortitude and patience that only her husband and sister knew that she
suffered.
In the latter part of February, 1840, Mr. Weld, having purchased a
farm of fifty acres at Belleville, New Jersey, removed his family
there. Angelina, announcing the change to Jane Smith, says:--
"Yes, we have left the sweet little village of Fort Lee, a spot never
to be forgotten by me as the place where my Theodore and I first lived
together, and the birthplace of my darling babe, the scene of my
happiest days. There, too, my precious sister ministered with untiring
faithfulness to my wants when sick, and there, too, I welcomed _thee_
for the first time under my roof."
To their new home they brought the simplicity of living to which they
had adhered in their old one, a simplicity which, with their more
commodious house, enabled them to exercise the broad hospitality which
they had been obliged to deny themselves in a measure at Fort Lee. All
the good deeds done under this sacred name of hospitality during their
fourteen years' residence at Belleville can never be known. Few ever
so diligently sought, or so cheerfully accepted, opportunities for the
exercise of every good word and work. Scarcely a day passed that they
did not feel called upon to make some sacrifice of comfort or
convenience for the comfort or convenience of others; and more than
once the sacrifice involved the risk of health and life. But in true
humility and with an unwavering trust in God, they looked away from
themselves and beyond ordinary considerations.
One of their first acts, after their removal, was to take back to
their service the incompetent Stephen whom they had been forced to
discharge from Fort Lee, and who had lived a precarious life
afterwards. They gave him work on the farm, paid him the usual wages,
and patiently endeavored to correct his faults. A young nephew in
delicate health was also added to their household; and, a few months
later, Angelina having heard that an old friend and her daughter in
Charleston were in pecuniary distress and feeble health, wrote and
offered them a home with her for a year.
"They have no means of support, and are anxious to leave Carolina,"
wrote Angelina to Jane Smith; "we will keep them until their health is
recruited, their minds rested, and some situation found for them where
they can earn their own living. We know not," she adds, "whom else the
Lord may send us, and only pray Him to help us to fulfil His will
towards all whose lot may be cast among us."
The visitors to the Belleville farm--chiefly old and new anti-slavery
friends--were numerous, and were always received with a cordiality
which left no room to doubt its sincerity.
At one time they received into their family a poor young man from
Jamaica, personally a stranger, but of whose labors as a
self-appointed missionary among the recently emancipated slaves of the
West Indies they had heard. He had labored for three years, supporting
himself as he could, until he was utterly broken down in health, when
he came back to die. His friendless situation appealed to the warmest
sympathy of the Welds, and he was brought to their hospitable home.
The pleasantest room in the house was given to him, and every
attention bestowed upon him, until death came to his relief.
The people of their neighborhood soon learned to know where they could
confidently turn for help in any kind of distress. It would be
difficult to tell the number of times that one or the other of the
great-hearted trio responded to the summons from a sick or dying bed,
and gave without stint of their sympathy, their time, and their labor.
Once, following only her own conviction of duty, Angelina left her
home to go and nurse a wretched colored man and his wife, ill with
small-pox and abandoned by everyone. She stayed with them night and
day until they were so far recovered as to be able to help themselves.
What a picture is this! That humble cabin with its miserable
occupants--and they negroes--ill with a loathsome disease, suffering,
praying for help, but deserted by neighbors and friends. Suddenly a
fair, delicate face bends over them; a sweet, low voice bids them be
comforted, and gentle hands lift the cooling draught to their parched
lips, bathe their fevered brows, make comfortable their poor bed, and
then, angel as she appears to them, stations herself beside them, to
minister to them like the true sister of mercy she was.
In this action, we may well suppose, Angelina was not encouraged by
her husband or sister, but it was a sacred principle with them never
to oppose anything which she conscientiously saw it was her duty to
do. When this appeared to her so plain that she felt she could not
hold back from it, they committed her to the Lord, and left their
doubts and anxieties with Him. She never shrank from the meanest
offices to the sick and suffering, though their performance might be
followed, as was often the case, by faintness and nausea. She would
return home exhausted, but cheerful, and grateful that she had been
able to help "one of God's suffering children."
In other ways the members of this united household were diligent in
good works. If a neighbor required a few hundred dollars to save the
foreclosure of a mortgage, the combined resources of the family were
taxed to aid him; if a poor student needed a helping hand in his
preparation for college, or for teaching, it was gladly extended to
him--perhaps his board and lodging given him for six months or a
year--with much valuable instruction thrown in. The instances of
charity of this kind were many, and were performed with such a
cheerful spirit that Sarah only incidentally alludes to the increase
of their cares and work at such times. In fact, their roof was ever a
shelter for the homeless, a home for the friendless; and it is
pleasant to record that the return of ingratitude, so often made for
benevolence of this kind, was never their portion. They always seem to
have had the sweet satisfaction of knowing, sooner or later, that
their kindness was not thrown away or under-estimated.
Besides the work of the farm, Mr. Weld interested himself in all the
local affairs of his neighborhood. His energy, common sense, and
enthusiasm pushed forward many a lagging improvement, while the
influence of his moral and intellectual views was felt in every
household. He taught the young men temperance, and the dignity of
honest labor; to the young women he preached self-reliance, contempt
for the frivolities of fashion, and the duty of making themselves
independent. He became superintendent of the public schools of the
township, and gave to them his warmest and most active services.
Sarah, although always ready to second Angelina in every charity,
found her chief employment at home. She relieved her sister almost
entirely of the care of the children, for in the course of years two
more little ones were given to them, and she lessened the expenses by
attending to household work, which would otherwise have called for
another servant. After a short time, Mr. Weld's father, mother,
sister, and brother, all invalids, came to live near them, claiming
much of their sympathy and their care. Their niece also, the daughter
of Mrs. Frost, now married, and the mother of children, took up her
residence in the neighborhood, and Aunt Sai, as the children called
her, and as almost every one else came, in time, to call her, found
even fuller occupation for heart and hands. Her love for children was
intense, and she had the rare faculty of being able to bring her
intelligence down to theirs. Angelina's children were literally as her
own, on whom she ever bestowed the tenderest care, and with whose
welfare her holiest affections were intertwined. She often speaks of
loving them with "all but a mother's love," of having them "enshrined
in her heart of hearts," of "receiving through them the only cordial
that could have raised a heart bowed by sorrow and crushing memories."
In one of her letters she says: "I live for Theodore and Angelina and
the children, those blessed comforters to my poor, sad heart," and,
during an absence from home, she writes to Angelina:--
"I have enjoyed being with my friends: still there is a longing, a
yearning after my children. I miss the sight of those dear faces, the
sound of those voices that comes like music to my ears."
In a letter to Sarah Douglass, written towards the close of their
residence in Belleville, she says:---
"In our precious children my desolate heart found a sweet response to
its love. They have saved me from I know not what of horrible despair,
or rushing into some new and untried and unsanctified effort to let
off the fire that consumed me. Crushed, mutilated, torn, they
comforted and cheered me, and furnished me with objects of interest
which drew me from myself. I feel that they were the gift of a pitying
Father, and that to love and cherish them is my highest manifestation
of love to the Giver."
As the children grew, the parents began to feel the difficulty of
educating them properly without other companions, and it was at last
decided to take a few children into the family to be instructed with
their own.
This was the beginning of another important chapter in their lives. As
educators Mr. and Mrs. Weld very soon developed such rare ability,
that although they had thought of limiting the number of pupils to two
or three, so many were pressed upon them, with such good reasons for
their acceptance, that the two or three became a dozen, and were with
difficulty kept at that figure. In this new life their trials were
many, their labor great, and the pecuniary compensation exceedingly
moderate; but it is inspiring to read from Sarah the accounts of
Theodore's courage--"always ready to take the heaviest end of every
burden," and of Angelina's cheerfulness; and from Angelina the
frequent testimony to Sarah's patience and fidelity. It took this dear
Aunt Sai many years to learn to like teaching, especially as she never
had any talent for governing, save by love, and this method was not
always appreciated.
With their new and exacting work, the farm, of course, had to be given
up, and was finally sold.
In 1852 the Raritan Bay Association, consisting of thirty or forty
educated and cultured families of congenial tastes, was formed at
Eagleswood, near Perth Amboy, New Jersey; and a year later Mr. and
Mrs. Weld were invited to join the Association, and take charge of its
educational department. They accepted in the hope of finding in the
change greater social advantages for themselves and their children,
with less responsibility and less labor; for of these last the
husband, wife, and sister, in their Belleville school, had had more
than they were physically able to endure longer. Their desire and plan
was to establish, with the children of the residents at Eagleswood, a
school also for others, and to charge such a moderate compensation
only as would enable the middle classes to profit by it. In this
project, as with every other, no selfish ambition found a place.
They removed to Eagleswood in the autumn of 1854.
And now, as I am nearing the end of my narrative, this seems to be the
place to say a few words relative to the religious views into which
the two sisters finally settled. We have followed them through their
various conflicts from early youth to mature age, and have seen in
their several changes of belief that there was no fickleness, no real
inconsistency. They sought the truth, and at different times thought
they had found it. But it was the truth as taught in Christ Jesus, the
simple doctrine of the Cross they wanted, the preaching and practice
of love for God, and for the meanest, the weakest, the lowest of His
children. The spiritual conflicts through which they passed, prepared
them to see the nothingness of all outward forms, and they came at
last to reject the so-called orthodox creed, and to look only to God
for help and comfort.
During the entire period of Sarah's connection with religious
organizations, and even from her very first religious impressions, she
found it difficult to accept the doctrine of the Atonement; and yet
she professed and tried to think she believed it, but only because the
Bible, which she accepted as a revelation from God, taught it. That
her reason rebelled against it is shown in her frequent prayers to be
delivered from this great temptation of the arch enemy, and her deep
repentance whenever she lapsed into a state of doubt. The fear that
she might come to reject this fundamental dogma was--at least up to
the time when she was driven from the Quaker Church--one of her most
terrible trials, causing her at intervals more agony than all else put
together. But the worshipful element was so strong in Sarah that she
could not, even after her reason had satisfied her conscience on this
point, give up this Christ at whose feet she had learned her most
precious lessons of faith and meekness and gentleness and
long-suffering, and whom she had accepted and adored as her
intermediary before an awful Jehovah. In her whole life there appears
to me nothing more beautiful than this full, tender, abiding love of
Jesus, and I believe it to have been the inspiration always of all
that was loveliest and grandest in her character. In one of her
letters, written while at Belleville, she says:--
"I cannot grasp the idea of an Infinite Being; but, without perplexing
myself with questions which I cannot solve, everything around me
proclaims the presence and the government of an intelligent,
law-abiding Law-giver, and I believe implicitly in his power and his
love. But I must have the Friend of sinners to rest in."
And again: "In one sense, as Creator and Benefactor, I feel this
Infinite Being to be my Father, but I want a Jesus whom I can approach
as a fellow creature, yet who is so nearly allied to God that I can
look up to Him with reverence, and love Him and lie in His bosom."
And later, in a letter to Gerrit Smith, she says:--
"God is love, and whoso dwelleth in love dwelleth in God and God in
him. O friends, but for this faith, this anchor to the soul both sure
and steadfast, I know not what would have become of us in the sweep
which there has been of what we called the doctrines of Christianity
from our minds. They have passed away like the shadows of night, but
the glorious truth remains that the Lord of love and mercy reigns, and
great peace have they who do His will."
Their increasingly liberal views, and their growing indifference to
most of the established forms in religion, drew upon them the severe
censure of their Charleston relatives, and finally, when, about 1847,
it came to be known that they no longer considered the Sabbath in a
sacred light, their sister Eliza wrote to them that all personal
intercourse must end between them and her, and that her doors would be
forever closed against them. Angelina's answer, covering four full
pages of foolscap, was most affectionate; but, while she expressed her
sorrow at the feeling excited against them, she could not regret that
they had been brought from error to truth. She argued the point fully,
patiently giving all the best authorities concerning the substitution
of the Christian for the Jewish Sabbath, and against their sister's
assertion that the former was a divine institution.
"When I began to understand," she says, "what the gift of the Holy
Spirit really was, then all outwardisms fell off. I did not throw them
off through force of argument or example of others, but all reverence
for them died in my heart. I could not help it; it was unexpected to
me, and I wondered to find even the Sabbath gone. And now, to give to
God alone the ceaseless worship of my life is all my creed, all my
desire. Oh, for this pure, exalted state, how my soul pants after it!
In my nursery and kitchen and parlor, when ministering to the common
little wants of my family, and encountering the fretfulness and
waywardness of my children, oh, for the pure worship of the soul which
can enable me to meet and bear all the _little_ trials of life in
quietness and love and patience. This is the religion of Christ, and I
feel that no other can satisfy me or meet the wants of human nature. I
cannot sanction any other, and I dare not teach any other to my
precious children."
Thus it came to pass with them and with Theodore also, that to love
Jesus more, and to follow more and more after him, became the sum of
their religion. With increasing years and wider experiences, their
views broadened into the most comprehensive liberality, but the high
worship of an infinite God, and the sweet reverence for his purest
disciple never left them.