12. CHAPTER XII.
RELIGIOUS NATURE AWAKENED.
ABOLITIONISTS SPOKEN OF—MY EAGERNESS TO KNOW WHAT THIS WORD
MEANT—MY CONSULTATION OF THE DICTIONARY—INCENDIARY
INFORMATION—HOW AND WHERE DERIVED—THE ENIGMA SOLVED—NATHANIEL
TURNER'S INSURRECTION—THE CHOLERA—RELIGION—FIRST AWAKENED BY A
METHODIST MINISTER NAMED HANSON—MY DEAR AND GOOD OLD COLORED
FRIEND, LAWSON—HIS CHARACTER AND OCCUPATION—HIS INFLUENCE OVER
ME—OUR MUTUAL ATTACHMENT—THE COMFORT I DERIVED FROM HIS
TEACHING—NEW HOPES AND ASPIRATIONS—HEAVENLY LIGHT AMIDST
EARTHLY DARKNESS—THE TWO IRISHMEN ON THE WHARF—THEIR
CONVERSATION—HOW I LEARNED TO WRITE—WHAT WERE MY AIMS.
Whilst in the painful state of mind described in the
foregoing chapter, almost regretting my very existence, because
doomed to a life of bondage, so goaded and so wretched, at times,
that I was even tempted to destroy my own life, I was keenly
sensitive and eager to know any, and every thing that transpired,
having any relation to the subject of slavery. I was all ears,
all eyes, whenever the words slave, slavery, dropped from
the lips of any white person, and the occasions were not
unfrequent when these words became leading ones, in high, social
debate, at our house. Every little while, I could hear Master
Hugh, or some of his company, speaking with much warmth and
excitement about "abolitionists." Of who or
what these were, I was totally ignorant. I found,
however, that whatever they might be, they were most
cordially
hated and soundly 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, for
instance, had made good his escape from slavery, it was generally
alleged, that he had been persuaded and assisted by the
abolitionists. If, also, a slave killed his master—as was
sometimes the case—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—could not be
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 afforded 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 reverse, and the cumbrous ambiguity, practiced by our white folks, when alluding to
this subject, was now fully explained. Ever, after that, when I
heard the words "abolition," or "abolition movement," mentioned,
I felt the matter one of a personal concern; and I drew near to
listen, when 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.
ABOLITIONISM—THE ENIGMA SOLVED>
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.
The latter, therefore, I was compelled to regard as having some
power in the country; and I felt that they might, possibly,
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 then was of the philosophy of
that movement, I believe in it from the first—and I believed in
it, partly, because I saw that it alarmed the consciences of
slaveholders. The insurrection of Nathaniel Turner had been
quelled, but the alarm and terror had not subsided. The cholera
was on its way,
and the thought was present, that God was angry
with the white people because of their slaveholding wickedness,
and, therefore, his judgments were abroad in the land. It was
impossible for me not to hope much from the abolition movement,
when I saw it supported by the Almighty, and armed with DEATH!
Previous 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 I felt the need of God, as a father and protector. My religious nature was awakened by the preaching of a white Methodist
minister, named Hanson. 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 knew very well—I was
wretched, and had no means of making myself otherwise. Moreover,
I knew that I could pray for light. I consulted a good colored
man, named
Charles Johnson; and, in tones of holy affection,
he told me to pray, and what to pray for. I was, for weeks, a
poor, brokenhearted mourner, traveling through the darkness and
misery of doubts and fears. I finally found that change of heart
which comes by "casting all one's care" upon God, and by having
faith in Jesus Christ, as the Redeemer, Friend, and Savior of
those who diligently seek Him.
After this, I saw the world in a new light. I
seemed to
live in a new world, surrounded by new objects, and to be
animated by new hopes and desires. I loved all mankind—slaveholders not excepted; though I abhorred slavery more than
ever. My great concern was, now, to have the world converted.
The desire for knowledge increased, and especially did I want a
thorough acquaintance with the contents of the bible. I have
gathered scattered pages from this holy book, from the filthy
street gutters of Baltimore, and washed and dried them, that in
the moments of my 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. A more
devout man than he, I never saw. He drove a dray for Mr. James
Ramsey, the owner of a rope-walk on Fell's Point, Baltimore.
This man not only prayed three time 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
his friends,) were about a better world. Uncle Lawson lived near
Master Hugh's house; and, becoming deeply attached to the old
man, 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 high, refreshing times we had together, in singing, praying
and glorifying God. These meetings with Uncle Lawson went on for
a long time, without the knowledge of Master Hugh or
my mistress.
Both knew, however, that I had
become religious, and they 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 the Rev.
Beverly Waugh, the presiding elder, and now one of the bishops of
the Methodist Episcopal church. Mr. Waugh was then stationed
over Wilk street church. I am careful to state these facts, that
the reader may be able to form an idea of the precise influences
which had to do with shaping and directing my mind.
In view of the cares and anxieties incident to the life
she was then 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 brought Mr. Waugh to
our house, and gave me an opportunity to hear him exhort and
pray. But my chief instructor, in matters of religion, was Uncle
Lawson. He was my spiritual father; and I loved him intensely,
and was at his house every chance I got.
This pleasure was not long allowed me. Master Hugh became
averse to my going to Father Lawson's, and threatened to whip me
if I ever went there again. I now felt myself persecuted by a
wicked man; and I would go to Father Lawson's,
notwithstanding the threat. 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; and that he had been shown that I must preach the gospel.
His words made a deep impression on my mind, and I verily felt
that some such
work was before me, though I could not see
how I should ever engage in its performance. "The good
Lord," he said, "would bring it to pass in his own good time,"
and that I must go on reading and studying the scriptures. The
advice and the suggestions of Uncle Lawson, were not without
their influence upon my character and destiny. He threw my
thoughts into a channel from which they have never entirely
diverged. 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 told him that "I was a slave, and a slave FOR LIFE," he
said, "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." "If you want liberty," said the good old man,
"ask the Lord for it,
in faith, AND HE WILL GIVE IT TO
YOU."
Thus assured, and 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 large 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, and a slave for life." The good Irishman gave his
shoulders a shrug, and seemed deeply affected by the statement.
He said, "it was a pity so fine a little fellow as myself 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 would be as free as anybody. I,
however, pretended not to be interested in what they said, for I
feared they might be treacherous. White men have been known to
encourage slaves to escape, and then—to get the reward—they
have kidnapped them, and returned them to their masters. And
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,
that 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 how 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 a piece of
timber ready for 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, "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 was now, 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, I can make more." But having made these easily, when I met
boys about Bethel church, or 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 the art of writing. I, however, afterward adopted
various methods of 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
were now laid carefully away. Spending my time between the ship
yard and house, I was as 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 marring the
highly prized copy books of the oldest son. In addition to those
opportunities, sleeping, as I did, in the kitchen loft—a room
seldom visited by any of the family—I got 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 had accumulated on my
hands, 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 my going there, I must say, for his
credit, that he never executed his threat to whip me, for having
thus, innocently, employed-my leisure time.