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