RELIGIOUS NATURE AWAKENED.
Abolitionists spoken of--Eagerness to know the meaning of word--
Consults the dictionary--Incendiary information--The enigma
solved--“Nat Turner” insurrection--Cholera--Religion--Methodist
minister--Religious impressions--Father Lawson--His character and
occupation--His influence over me--Our mutual attachment--New
hopes and aspirations--Heavenly light--Two Irishmen on wharf--
Conversation with them--Learning to write--My aims.
In the unhappy state of mind described in the foregoing chapter,
regretting my very existence because doomed to a life of bondage, so
goaded and so wretched as to be even tempted at times to take my own
life, I was most keenly sensitive to know any and everything possible
that had any relation to the subject of slavery. I was all ears, all
eyes, whenever the words slave or slavery dropped from the lips of any
white person, and the occasions became more and more frequent when
these words became leading ones in high, social debate at our house.
Very often I would overhear Master Hugh, or some of his company,
speak with much warmth of the “_abolitionists_.” _Who_ or what the
_abolitionists_ were, I was totally ignorant. I found, however, that
whoever or whatever they might be, they were most cordially hated
and abused by slaveholders of every grade. I very soon discovered
too, that slavery was, in some sort, under consideration whenever the
abolitionists were alluded to. This made the term a very interesting
one to me. If a slave had made good his escape from slavery, it was
generally alleged that he had been persuaded and assisted to do so
by the abolitionists. If a slave killed his master, or struck down
his overseer, or set fire to his master’s dwelling, or committed
any violence or crime, out of the common way, it was certain to be
said that such a crime was the legitimate fruits of the abolition
movement. Hearing such charges often repeated, I, naturally enough,
received the impression that abolition--whatever else it might be--
was not unfriendly to the slave, nor very friendly to the slaveholder.
I therefore set about finding out, if possible, _who_ and _what_
the abolitionists were, and _why_ they were so obnoxious to the
slaveholders. The dictionary offered me very little help. It taught
me that abolition was “the act of abolishing;” but it left me in
ignorance at the very point where I most wanted information, and that
was, as to the thing to be abolished. A city newspaper--the “Baltimore
_American_”--gave me the incendiary information denied me by the
dictionary. In its columns I found that on a certain day a vast number
of petitions and memorials had been presented to Congress, praying
for the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia, and for the
abolition of the slave trade between the States of the Union. This was
enough. The vindictive bitterness, the marked caution, the studied
reserve, and the ambiguity practiced by our white folks when alluding
to this subject, was now fully explained. Ever after that, when I
heard the word abolition, I felt the matter one of a personal concern,
and I drew near to listen whenever I could do so, without seeming too
solicitous and prying. There was HOPE in those words. Ever and anon
too, I could see some terrible denunciation of slavery in our papers,--
copied from abolition papers at the North,--and the injustice of such
denunciation commented on. These I read with avidity. I had a deep
satisfaction in the thought that the rascality of slaveholders was
not concealed from the eyes of the world, and that I was not alone in
abhorring the cruelty and brutality of slavery. A still deeper train of
thought was stirred. I saw that there was fear as well as rage in the
manner of speaking of the abolitionists, and from this I inferred that
they must have some power in the country, and I felt that they might
perhaps succeed in their designs. When I met with a slave to whom I
deemed it safe to talk on the subject, I would impart to him so much
of the mystery as I had been able to penetrate. Thus the light of this
grand movement broke in upon my mind by degrees; and I must say that
ignorant as I was of the philosophy of that movement, I believed in it
from the first, and I believed in it, partly, because I saw that it
alarmed the consciences of the slaveholders. The insurrection of Nat.
Turner had been quelled, but the alarm and terror which it occasioned
had not subsided. The cholera was then on its way to this country, and
I remember thinking that God was angry with the white people because of
their slaveholding wickedness, and therefore his judgments were abroad
in the land. Of course it was impossible for me not to hope much for
the abolition movement when I saw it supported by the Almighty, and
armed with DEATH.
Previously to my contemplation of the anti-slavery movement and its
probable results, my mind had been seriously awakened to the subject of
religion. I was not more than thirteen years old, when in my loneliness
and destitution I longed for some one to whom I could go, as to a
father and protector. The preaching of a white Methodist minister,
named Hanson, was the means of causing me to feel that in God I had
such a friend. He thought that all men, great and small, bond and free,
were sinners in the sight of God: that they were by nature rebels
against his government; and that they must repent of their sins, and
be reconciled to God through Christ. I cannot say that I had a very
distinct notion of what was required of me, but one thing I did know
well: I was wretched and had no means of making myself otherwise. I
consulted a good colored man named Charles Lawson, and in tones of
holy affection he told me to pray, and to “cast all my care upon God.”
This I sought to do; and though for weeks I was a poor, broken-hearted
mourner, traveling through doubts and fears, I finally found my burden
lightened, and my heart relieved. I loved all mankind, slaveholders
not excepted though I abhorred slavery more than ever. I saw the world
in a new light, and my great concern was to have everybody converted.
My desire to learn increased, and especially did I want a thorough
acquaintance with the contents of the Bible. I have gathered scattered
pages of the Bible from the filthy street-gutters, and washed and
dried them, that in moments of leisure I might get a word or two of
wisdom from them. While thus religiously seeking knowledge, I became
acquainted with a good old colored man named Lawson. This man not
only prayed three times a day, but he prayed as he walked through the
streets, at his work, on his dray--everywhere. His life was a life of
prayer, and his words when he spoke to any one, were about a better
world. Uncle Lawson lived near Master Hugh’s house, and becoming deeply
attached to him, I went often with him to prayer-meeting, and spent
much of my leisure time with him on Sunday. The old man could read a
little, and I was a great help to him in making out the hard words,
for I was a better reader than he. I could teach him “the letter,” but
he could teach me “the spirit,” and refreshing times we had together,
in singing and praying. These meetings went on for a long time without
the knowledge of Master Hugh or my mistress. Both knew, however, that
I had become religious, and seemed to respect my conscientious piety.
My mistress was still a professor of religion, and belonged to class.
Her leader was no less a person than Rev. Beverly Waugh, the presiding
elder, and afterwards one of the bishops of the Methodist Episcopal
church.
In view of the cares and anxieties incident to the life she was
leading, and especially in view of the separation from religious
associations to which she was subjected, my mistress had, as I have
before stated, become lukewarm, and needed to be looked up by her
leader. This often brought Mr. Waugh to our house, and gave me an
opportunity to hear him exhort and pray. But my chief instructor in
religious matters was Uncle Lawson. He was my spiritual father and I
loved him intensely, and was at his house every chance I could get.
This pleasure, however, was not long unquestioned. Master Hugh became
averse to our intimacy, and threatened to whip me if I ever went there
again. I now felt myself persecuted by a wicked man, and I _would_ go.
The good old man had told me that the “Lord had a great work for me to
do,” and I must prepare to do it; that he had been shown that I must
preach the gospel. His words made a very deep impression upon me, and
I verily felt that some such work was before me, though I could not
see how I could ever engage in its performance. “The good Lord would
bring it to pass in his own good time,” he said, and that I must go on
reading and studying the scriptures. This advice and these suggestions
were not without their influence on my character and destiny. He fanned
my already intense love of knowledge into a flame by assuring me that I
was to be a useful man in the world. When I would say to him, “How can
these things be? and what can I do?” his simple reply was, “_Trust in
the Lord_.” When I would tell him, “I am a slave, and a slave for life,
how can I do anything?” he would quietly answer, “The _Lord_ can make
you free, my dear; all things are possible with Him; only have _faith_
in God. ‘Ask, and it shall be given you.’ If you want liberty, ask the
Lord for it _in_ FAITH, _and he will give it to you_.”
Thus assured and thus cheered on under the inspiration of hope, I
worked and prayed with a light heart, believing that my life was under
the guidance of a wisdom higher than my own. With all other blessings
sought at the mercy seat, I always prayed that God would, of his great
mercy and in his own good time, deliver me from my bondage.
I went, one day, on the wharf of Mr. Waters, and seeing two Irishmen
unloading a scow of stone or ballast, I went on board unasked, and
helped them. When we had finished the work one of the men came to me,
aside, and asked me a number of questions, and among them if I were
a slave? I told him “I was a slave for life.” The good Irishman gave
a shrug, and seemed deeply affected. He said it was a pity so fine a
little fellow as I was should be a slave for life. They both had much
to say about the matter, and expressed the deepest sympathy with
me, and the most decided hatred of slavery. They went so far as to
tell me that I ought to run away and go to the north; that I should
find friends there, and that I should then be as free as anybody.
I pretended not to be interested in what they said, for I feared
they might be treacherous. White men were not unfrequently known to
encourage slaves to escape, and then, to get the reward, they would
kidnap them and return them to their masters. While I mainly inclined
to the notion that these men were honest and meant me no ill, I feared
it might be otherwise. I nevertheless remembered their words and their
advice, and looked forward to an escape to the north as a possible
means of gaining the liberty for which my heart panted. It was not my
enslavement at the then present time which most affected me; the being
a slave _for life_ was the saddest thought. I was too young to think of
running away immediately; besides, I wished to learn to write before
going, as I might have occasion to write my own pass. I now not only
had the hope of freedom, but a foreshadowing of the means by which I
might some day gain that inestimable boon. Meanwhile I resolved to add
to my educational attainments the art of writing.
After this manner I began to learn to write. I was much in the
ship-yard--Master Hugh’s, and that of Durgan & Bailey, and I observed
that the carpenters, after hewing and getting ready a piece of timber
to use, wrote on it the initials of the name of that part of the ship
for which it was intended. When, for instance, a piece of timber was
ready for the starboard side, it was marked with a capital “S.” A piece
for the larboard side was marked “L.;” larboard forward was marked
“L. F.;” larboard aft was marked “L. A.;” starboard aft, “S. A.” and
starboard forward “S. F.” I soon learned these letters, and for what
they were placed on the timbers.
My work now was to keep fire under the steam-box, and to watch the
ship-yard while the carpenters had gone to dinner. This interval gave
me a fine opportunity for copying the letters named. I soon astonished
myself with the ease with which I made the letters, and the thought
was soon present, “If I can make four letters I can make more.” Having
made these readily and easily, when I met boys about the Bethel church
or on any of our play-grounds, I entered the lists with them in the art
of writing, and would make the letters which I had been so fortunate
as to learn, and ask them to “beat that if they could.” With playmates
for my teachers, fences and pavements for my copy-books, and chalk
for my pen and ink, I learned to write. I however adopted, afterward,
various methods for improving my hand. The most successful was copying
the _italics_ in Webster’s spelling-book until I could make them all
without looking on the book. By this time my little “Master Tommy” had
grown to be a big boy, and had written over a number of copy-books and
brought them home. They had been shown to the neighbors, had elicited
due praise, and had been laid carefully away. Spending parts of my time
both at the ship-yard and the house, I was often the lone keeper of
the latter as of the former. When my mistress left me in charge of the
house I had a grand time. I got Master Tommy’s copy-books and a pen and
ink, and in the ample spaces between the lines I wrote other lines as
nearly like his as possible. The process was a tedious one, and I ran
the risk of getting a flogging for marking the highly-prized copy-books
of the oldest son. In addition to these opportunities, sleeping as I
did in the kitchen loft, a room seldom visited by any of the family,
I contrived to get a flour-barrel up there and a chair, and upon the
head of that barrel I have written, or endeavored to write, copying
from the Bible and the Methodist hymn-book, and other books which I
had accumulated, till late at night, and when all the family were in
bed and asleep. I was supported in my endeavors by renewed advice and
by holy promises from the good father Lawson, with whom I continued to
meet and pray and read the Scriptures. Although Master Hugh was aware
of these meetings, I must say for his credit that he never executed his
threats to whip me for having thus innocently employed my leisure time.