My Bondage and My Freedom
before the world as a nation of liars and hypocrites; and behold his
cherished flag pointed at with the utmost scorn and derision. Even now
an American _abroad_ is pointed out in the crowd, as coming from a land
where men gain their fortunes by “the blood of souls,” from a land of
slave markets, of blood-hounds, and slave-hunters; and, in some
circles, such a man is shunned altogether, as a moral pest. Is it not
time, then, for every American to awake, and inquire into his duty with
respect to this subject?
Wendell Phillips—the eloquent New England orator—on his return from
Europe, in 1842, said, “As I stood upon the shores of Genoa, and saw
floating on the placid waters of the Mediterranean, the beautiful
American war ship Ohio, with her masts tapering proportionately aloft,
and an eastern sun reflecting her noble form upon the sparkling waters,
attracting the gaze of the multitude, my first impulse was of pride, to
think myself an American; but when I thought that the first time that
gallant ship would gird on her gorgeous apparel, and wake from beneath
her sides her dormant thunders, it would be in defense of the African
slave trade, I blushed in utter _shame_ for my country.”
Let me say again, _slavery is alike the sin and the shame of the
American people;_ it is a blot upon the American name, and the only
national reproach which need make an American hang his head in shame,
in the presence of monarchical governments.
With this gigantic evil in the land, we are constantly told to look _at
home;_ if we say ought against crowned heads, we are pointed to our
enslaved millions; if we talk of sending missionaries and bibles
abroad, we are pointed to three millions now lying in worse than
heathen darkness; if we express a word of sympathy for Kossuth and his
Hungarian fugitive brethren, we are pointed to that horrible and
hell-black enactment, “the fugitive slave bill.”
Slavery blunts the edge of all our rebukes of tyranny abroad—the
criticisms that we make upon other nations, only call forth ridicule,
contempt, and scorn. In a word, we are made a reproach and a by-word to
a mocking earth, and we must continue to be so made, so long as slavery
continues to pollute our soil.
We have heard much of late of the virtue of patriotism, the love of
country, &c., and this sentiment, so natural and so strong, has been
impiously appealed to, by all the powers of human selfishness, to
cherish the viper which is stinging our national life away. In its
name, we have been called upon to deepen our infamy before the world,
to rivet the fetter more firmly on the limbs of the enslaved, and to
become utterly insensible to the voice of human woe that is wafted to
us on every southern gale. We have been called upon, in its name, to
desecrate our whole land by the footprints of slave-hunters, and even
to engage ourselves in the horrible business of kidnapping.
I, too, would invoke the spirit of patriotism; not in a narrow and
restricted sense, but, I trust, with a broad and manly signification;
not to cover up our national sins, but to inspire us with sincere
repentance; not to hide our shame from the the(sic) world’s gaze, but
utterly to abolish the cause of that shame; not to explain away our
gross inconsistencies as a nation, but to remove the hateful, jarring,
and incongruous elements from the land; not to sustain an egregious
wrong, but to unite all our energies in the grand effort to remedy that
wrong.
I would invoke the spirit of patriotism, in the name of the law of the
living God, natural and revealed, and in the full belief that
“righteousness exalteth a nation, while sin is a reproach to any
people.” “He that walketh righteously, and speaketh uprightly; he that
despiseth the gain of oppressions, that shaketh his hands from the
holding of bribes, he shall dwell on high, his place of defense shall
be the munitions of rocks, bread shall be given him, his water shall be
sure.”
We have not only heard much lately of patriotism, and of its aid being
invoked on the side of slavery and injustice, but the very prosperity
of this people has been called in to deafen them to the voice of duty,
and to lead them onward in the pathway of sin. Thus has the blessing of
God been converted into a curse. In the spirit of genuine patriotism, I
warn the American people, by all that is just and honorable, to BEWARE!
I warn them that, strong, proud, and prosperous though we be, there is
a power above us that can “bring down high looks; at the breath of
whose mouth our wealth may take wings; and before whom every knee shall
bow;” and who can tell how soon the avenging angel may pass over our
land, and the sable bondmen now in chains, may become the instruments
of our nation’s chastisement! Without appealing to any higher feeling,
I would warn the American people, and the American government, to be
wise in their day and generation. I exhort them to remember the history
of other nations; and I remind them that America cannot always sit “as
a queen,” in peace and repose; that prouder and stronger governments
than this have been shattered by the bolts of a just God; that the time
may come when those they now despise and hate, may be needed; when
those whom they now compel by oppression to be enemies, may be wanted
as friends. What has been, may be again. There is a point beyond which
human endurance cannot go. The crushed worm may yet turn under the heel
of the oppressor. I warn them, then, with all solemnity, and in the
name of retributive justice, _to look to their ways;_ for in an evil
hour, those sable arms that have, for the last two centuries, been
engaged in cultivating and adorning the fair fields of our country, may
yet become the instruments of terror, desolation, and death, throughout
our borders.
It was the sage of the Old Dominion that said—while speaking of the
possibility of a conflict between the slaves and the slaveholders—“God
has no attribute that could take sides with the oppressor in such a
contest. I tremble for my country when I reflect that God _is just_,
and that his justice cannot sleep forever.” Such is the warning voice
of Thomas Jefferson; and every day’s experience since its utterance
until now, confirms its wisdom, and commends its truth.
WHAT TO THE SLAVE IS THE FOURTH OF JULY?. Extract from an Oration, at
Rochester, July 5, 1852
Fellow-Citizens—Pardon me, and allow me to ask, why am I called upon to
speak here to-day? What have I, or those I represent, to do with your
national independence? Are the great principles of political freedom
and of natural justice, embodied in that Declaration of Independence,
extended to us? and am I, therefore, called upon to bring our humble
offering to the national altar, and to confess the benefits, and
express devout gratitude for the blessings, resulting from your
independence to us?
Would to God, both for your sakes and ours, that an affirmative answer
could be truthfully returned to these questions! Then would my task be
light, and my burden easy and delightful. For who is there so cold that
a nation’s sympathy could not warm him? Who so obdurate and dead to the
claims of gratitude, that would not thankfully acknowledge such
priceless benefits? Who so stolid and selfish, that would not give his
voice to swell the hallelujahs of a nation’s jubilee, when the chains
of servitude had been torn from his limbs? I am not that man. In a case
like that, the dumb might eloquently speak, and the “lame man leap as
an hart.”
But, such is not the state of the case. I say it with a sad sense of
the disparity between us. I am not included within the pale of this
glorious anniversary! Your high independence only reveals the
immeasurable distance between us. The blessings in which you this day
rejoice, are not enjoyed in common. The rich inheritance of justice,
liberty, prosperity, and independence, bequeathed by your fathers, is
shared by you, not by me. The sunlight that brought life and healing to
you, has brought stripes and death to me. This Fourth of July is
_yours_, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn. To drag a man in
fetters into the grand illuminated temple of liberty, and call upon him
to join you in joyous anthems, were inhuman mockery and sacrilegious
irony. Do you mean, citizens, to mock me, by asking me to speak to-day?
If so, there is a parallel to your conduct. And let me warn you that it
is dangerous to copy the example of a nation whose crimes, towering up
to heaven, were thrown down by the breath of the Almighty, burying that
nation in irrecoverable ruin! I can to-day take up the plaintive lament
of a peeled and woe-smitten people.
“By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down. Yea! we wept when we
remembered Zion. We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst
thereof. For there, they that carried us away captive, required of us a
song; and they who wasted us required of us mirth, saying, Sing us one
of the songs of Zion. How can we sing the Lord’s song in a strange
land? If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her
cunning. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of
my mouth.”
Fellow-citizens, above your national, tumultous joy, I hear the
mournful wail of millions, whose chains, heavy and grievous yesterday,
are to-day rendered more intolerable by the jubilant shouts that reach
them. If I do forget, if I do not faithfully remember those bleeding
children of sorrow this day, “may my right hand forget her cunning, and
may my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth!” To forget them, to pass
lightly over their wrongs, and to chime in with the popular theme,
would be treason most scandalous and shocking, and would make me a
reproach before God and the world. My subject, then, fellow-citizens,
is AMERICAN SLAVERY. I shall see this day and its popular
characteristics from the slave’s point of view. Standing there,
identified with the American bondman, making his wrongs mine, I do not
hesitate to declare, with all my soul, that the character and conduct
of this nation never looked blacker to me than on this Fourth of July.
Whether we turn to the declarations of the past, or to the professions
of the present, the conduct of the nation seems equally hideous and
revolting. America is false to the past, false to the present, and
solemnly binds herself to be false to the future. Standing with God and
the crushed and bleeding slave on this occasion, I will, in the name of
humanity which is outraged, in the name of liberty which is fettered,
in the name of the constitution and the bible, which are disregarded
and trampled upon, dare to call in question and to denounce, with all
the emphasis I can command, everything that serves to perpetuate
slavery—the great sin and shame of America! “I will not equivocate; I
will not excuse;” I will use the severest language I can command; and
yet not one word shall escape me that any man, whose judgment is not
blinded by prejudice, or who is not at heart a slaveholder, shall not
confess to be right and just.
But I fancy I hear some one of my audience say, it is just in this
circumstance that you and your brother abolitionists fail to make a
favorable impression on the public mind. Would you argue more, and
denounce less, would you persuade more and rebuke less, your cause
would be much more likely to succeed. But, I submit, where all is plain
there is nothing to be argued. What point in the anti-slavery creed
would you have me argue? On what branch of the subject do the people of
this country need light? Must I undertake to prove that the slave is a
man? That point is conceded already. Nobody doubts it. The slaveholders
themselves acknowledge it in the enactment of laws for their
government. They acknowledge it when they punish disobedience on the