Autographs for Freedom, by Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, and Thirty-five Other Eminent Writers
History
Autographs for Freedom, by Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, and Thirty-five Other Eminent Writers
Antislavery movements -- United States; Slavery -- United States
But the slave-owner! who weeps, who prays, who lives, who dies for him!
True, he is of the boasted Saxon race, or descended from the brilliant
Gaul, or gifted Celt. He is enriched by the transmitted civilisation of
all ages. He has been nurtured by Christian institutions. To him have
been opened the fountains of Divine truth. But from this elevation he is
to be dragged down by the mill-stone of slavery.
If he be a rural landlord, he looks around upon his ancestral
possessions, and sees the curse of slave-ownership upon them,—he knows
the time must come when “the field shall yield no meat, the flock shall
be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stall.” To
him the onward tendencies of the age are reversed. His movement is
steadily backward.
To the slave are held out the rewards of fortitude, of long suffering,
of meekness, of patience in tribulation. What and where are the promises
to the slave-owner?
Thousands among them are in a false position. They are the involuntary
maintainers of wrong, and transmitters of evil. Hundreds among them have
scrupulous consciences and tender feelings. They use power gently. They
feed their servants bountifully. They nurse the sick kindly,—and devote
weary days to their instruction. But alas! they live under the laws of
slave-owners. They are forbidden to teach the slave to read, write, or
cipher, to give them the means of independent progress and increasing
light. Their teaching is as bootless as the labour of Sisyphus! most
wearisome and disheartening.
The great eras of domestic life, bright to the thoughtless slave, are
dark with forecasting shadows to the slave-owner. The mother cannot
forget her sorrows, because a man-child is born. If she dare contemplate
his future, she sees that the activities of his nature must be
repressed, his faculties but half developed, his passions stimulated by
irresponsible power, inflamed by temptation, and solicited by convenient
opportunity. She knows that his path in life must be more and more
entangled as he goes onward,—darker and darker with the ever-deepening
misery of this cruel institution.
Is it a “_merry_ marriage-bell” that rings in the ear of a slave-owning
mother for the bridal of her daughter? Does not her soul recoil from the
possible (probable?) evils before her child; to be placed, perchance, on
an isolated plantation, environed by natural enemies; to see, it may be,
the brothers and sisters of her own children follow their slave-mother
to the field, or severed from her to be sold at the slave-market?
Compared with these miseries of the slave-owner, what are the toils and
stripes of the slave? what his labour without stimulus or requital? what
his degradation to a chattel? what the deprivation of security to the
ties of kindred, and the annulling of that relation which is their
source and chiefest blessing?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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