Chapter 20

"If it is the determination of the people of Savannah to deliver up to a lawless and blood-thirsty mob every person coming among them whose sentiments are opposed to slavery, I apprehend there are very few at the North who would not be obnoxious to their hostility. For I believe they all view slavery as an evil that must be abolished at no very distant day. Would it not be well for the people of the South to reflect upon the tendency of their conduct? Where such aggressions upon humanity are committed, the slaves will naturally inquire into the cause; and when they are informed that it is in consequence of their oppressed and degraded condition, and that the persons thus persecuted are charged with being their friends, they cannot feel indifferent. One such scene as was witnessed in the case of my son would tend more to excite a spirit of insurrection and insubordination among them, than ten thousand 'incendiary pamphlets,' not one word of which any of them could read. My son went to Savannah solely on his own private business, without any intention of interfering with the slaves, or with the subject of slavery in any way. But even supposing the charge to have been true, do not your laws award sufficient punishment? How could you stand silently by, and witness proceedings that would put to blush the Arab, or the untutored inhabitant of the wilderness in our own country? The negroes, whom you affect to despise so much, would set an example of benevolence and humanity, when on their own soil, if a stranger came among them, which you cannot be prepared to imitate, till you have made great improvements in civilization.

"The people of Savannah profess Christianity; but what avails profession, where latitude is given to the vilest and most depraved passions of the human heart? Suppose the mob had murdered my son; a young man who went among you in the ordinary course of his business, and who, even according to _your_ understanding of the term, had done no evil; a young man of fair reputation, with numerous near relatives and friends to mourn over the barbarous deed; would you have been guiltless? I think the just witness in your consciences would answer No.

"I have long deplored the evils of slavery, and my sympathy has often been much excited for the master, as well as the slave. I am aware of the difficulties attending the system, and I should rejoice if I could aid in devising some mode of relief, that would satisfy the claims of justice and humanity, and at the same time be acceptable to the inhabitants of the South.

"It is certainly cause of deep regret that the Southern people suffer their angry passions to become so highly excited on this subject, which, of all others, ought to be calmly considered. For it remains a truth that 'the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God,' neither can it open his eyes to see in what his best interest consists. O, that your ears may be open to the voice of wisdom before it is too late! The language of an eminent statesman, who was a slaveholder, often occurs to me: 'I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just, and that his justice will not sleep forever.' Surely we have high authority for believing that 'For the crying of the poor, and the sighing of the needy, God will arise.' I hope I shall not be suspected of entertaining hostile or unkind feelings toward the people of the South, when I say that I believe slavery must and will be abolished. As sure as God is merciful and good, it is an evil that cannot endure forever.

"An inspired apostle says, that our gracious Creator 'hath made of one blood all nations of men;' and our Saviour gave this commandment: 'As ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise.' If we believe these declarations, and I hope none doubt their authority, I should think reasoning unnecessary to convince us that to oppress and enslave our fellow men cannot be pleasing to Him, who is just and equal in all his ways.

"My concern for the welfare of my fellow men is not confined to color, or circumscribed by geographical lines. I can never see human suffering without feeling compassion, and I would always gladly alleviate it, if I had it in my power. I remember that we are all, without distinction of color or locality, children of the same Universal Parent, who delights to see the human family dwell together in peace and harmony. I am strongly inclined to the opinion that the proceedings of that portion of the inhabitants of the North who are called abolitionists, would not produce so much agitation and excitement at the South, if the people there felt entirely satisfied that slavery was justifiable in the sight of infinite purity and justice. An eminent minister of the Gospel, about the middle of the seventeenth century, often urged upon the attention of people this emphatic injunction: 'Mind the light!' 'All things that are reproved are made manifest by the light; for whatsoever doth make manifest is light.' Now, if this light, or spirit of truth, 'a manifestation of which is given to every man to profit withal,' should be found testifying in your consciences against injustice and oppression, regard its admonitions! It will let none remain at ease in their sins. It will justify for well doing; but to those who rebel against it, and disregard its reproofs, it will become the 'worm that dieth not, and the fire that is not quenched.'

"I am aware that complaints are often made, because obstacles are thrown in the way of Southerners reclaiming their fugitive slaves. But bring the matter home to yourselves. Suppose a white man resided among you, who, for a series of years, had conducted with sobriety, industry, and probity, and had given frequent evidence of the kindness of his heart, by a disposition to oblige whenever opportunity offered; suppose he had a wife and children dependent upon him, and supported them comfortably and respectably; could you see that man dragged from his bed, and from the bosom of his family, in the dead time of night, manacled, and hurried away into a distant part of the country, where his family could never see him again, and where they knew he must linger out a miserable existence, more intolerable than death, amid the horrors of slavery? I ask whether you could witness all this, without the most poignant grief? This is no picture of the fancy. It is a sober reality. The only difference is, the men thus treated are black. But in my view, this does not diminish the horrors of such cruel deeds. Can it be expected then, that the citizens of this state, or indeed of any other, would witness all this, without instituting the severest scrutiny into the legality of the proceedings? More especially, when it is known that the persons employed in this nefarious business of hunting up fugitive slaves are men destitute of principle, whose hearts are callous as flint, and who would send a free man into bondage with as little compunction as they would a slave, if they could do it with impunity.

"Of latter time, we hear much said about a dissolution of the Union. Far better, in my view, that this should take place, if it can be effected without violence, than to remain as we are; when a peaceable citizen cannot enter your territory on his own lawful business, without the risk of being murdered by a ruthless mob.

"With reverent thankfulness to Him, who numbers the hairs of our heads, without whose notice not even a sparrow falls to the ground, and to whose providence I consider myself indebted for the redemption of my beloved son from the hands of barbarians, permit me again to say that I feel sincerely grateful to thee and others, who kindly lent aid, though late, in rescuing him from the violence of unreasonable and wicked men, who sought his life without a cause. I may never have it in my power to do either of you personally a kindness; but some other member of the great family of mankind may need assistance in a way that I can relieve him. If this should be the case, I hope I shall not fail to embrace the opportunity.

"With fervent desires that the beneficent Creator and Father of the Universe may open the eyes of all to see that 'the fast which he hath chosen is to loose the bands of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens and to let the oppressed go free, and that ye break every yoke.'

"I am thy sincere friend,

"ISAAC T. HOPPER."

Soon after the circumstances above related, the mayor of New-York revoked the warrant of the marshal, who had been so conspicuous in the outrage. This step was taken in consequence of his own admissions concerning his conduct.

In 1837, a little incident occurred, which may be interesting to those who are curious concerning phrenology. At a small social party in New-York, a discussion arose on that subject; and, as usual, some were disposed to believe and others to ridicule. At last the disputants proposed to test the question by careful experiment. Friend Hopper was one of the party, and they asked him to have his head examined by the well-known O.S. Fowler. Having a good-natured willingness to gratify their curiosity, he consented. It was agreed that he should not speak during the operation, lest the tones of his voice might serve as an index of his character. It was further stipulated that no person in the room should give any indication by which the phrenologist might be enabled to judge whether he was supposed to be speaking correctly or not. The next day, Mr. Fowler was introduced blindfolded into a room, where Isaac T. Hopper was seated with the party of the preceding evening. Having passed his hands over the strongly developed head, he made the following statement, which was taken down by a rapid writer, as the words fell from his lips.

"The first and strongest manifestation of this character is efficiency. Not one man in a thousand is capable of accomplishing so much. The strong points are very strong; the weak points are weak; so that he is an eccentric and peculiar character.

"The pole-star of his character is moral courage.

"He has very little reverence, and stands in no awe of the powers that be. He pays no regard to forms or ceremonies, or established customs, in church or state. He renders no homage to great names, such as D.D.; L.L.D.; or Excellency. He treats his fellow men with kindness and affection, but not with sufficient respect and courtesy.

"He is emphatically republican in feeling and character. He makes himself free and familiar with every one. He often lets himself down too much. This constitutes a radical defect in his character.

"He will assert and maintain human rights and liberty at every hazard. In this cause, he will stake anything, or suffer anything. This constitutes the leading feature of his character. Every other element is blended into this.

"I should consider him a very cautious man in fact, though in appearance he is very imprudent; especially in remarks on moral subjects.

"He is too apt to denounce those whom he considers in error; to apply opprobrious epithets and censure in the strongest terms, and the boldest manner.

"I have seldom, if ever, met with a larger organ of conscientiousness.

"Nothing so much delights him as to advocate and propagate moral principles; no matter how unpopular the principles may be.

"He has very little credulity.

"He is one of the closest observers of men and things anywhere to be found. He sees, as it were by intuition everything that passes around him, and understands just when and where to take men and things; just how and where to say things with effect; and in all he says, he speaks directly to the point.

"He says and does a great many severe and cutting things. If anybody else said and did such things, they would at once get into hot water; but he says and does them in such a manner, that even his enemies, and those against whom his censures are aimed, cannot be offended with him. He is always on the verge of difficulty, but never _in_ difficulty.

"He is hated mainly by those not personally acquainted with him. A personal interview, even with his greatest enemies, generally removes enmity; because of the smoothness and easiness of his manners.

"He has at command a great amount of well-digested information on almost every subject, and makes admirable use of his knowledge. He has a great many facts, and always brings them in their right place. His general memory of particulars, incidents, places, and words, is really wonderful.

"But he has a weak memory concerning names, dates, numbers, and colors. He never recognizes persons by their dress, or by the color of anything pertaining to them.

"He tells a story admirably, and acts it out to the life. He makes a great deal of fun, and keeps others in a roar of laughter, while he is sober himself. For his fun, he is as much indebted to the manner as to the matter. He makes his jokes mainly by happy comparisons, striking illustrations, and the imitative power with which he expresses them.

"He possesses a great amount of native talent, but it is so admirably distributed, that he appears to have more than he actually possesses.

"His attachment to his friends is remarkably strong and ardent. But he will associate with none except those whose moral characters are unimpeachable.

"He expects and anticipates a great deal; enters largely into things; takes hold of every measure with spirit; and is always overwhelmed with business. Move where he will, he cannot be otherwise than a distinguished man."

That this description was remarkably accurate in most particulars will be obvious to those who have read the preceding anecdotes. It is not true, however, that he was enthusiastic in character, or that he had the appearance of being so. He was far too practical and self-possessed, to have the reputation of being "half crazy," even among those who are prone to regard everything as insane that is out of the common course. Neither do I think he was accustomed to "let himself down too much;" for according to my radical ideas, a man _cannot_ "let himself down," who "associates only with those whose moral characters are unimpeachable." It is true that he was pleasant and playful in conversation with all classes of people; but he was remarkably free from any tinge of vulgarity. It is true, also, that he was totally and entirely unconscious of any such thing as distinctions of rank. I have been acquainted with many theoretical democrats, and with not a few who tried to be democratic, from kind feelings-and principles of justice; but Friend Hopper and Francis Jackson of Boston are the only two men I ever met, who were born democrats; who could not help it, if they tried; and who would not know _how_ to try; so completely did they, by nature, ignore all artificial distinctions. Of course, I do not use the word democrat in its limited party sense, but to express their perfect unconsciousness that any man was considered to be above them, or any man beneath them. If Friend Hopper encountered his wood-sawyer, after a considerable absence, he would shake hands warmly, and give him a cordial welcome. If the English Prince had called upon him, he would have met with the same friendly reception, and would probably have been accosted something after this fashion: "How art thou, friend Albert? They tell me thou art amiable and kindly disposed toward the people; and I am glad to see thee." Those who observe the parting advice given by Isaac's mother, when he went to serve his apprenticeship in Philadelphia, will easily infer that this peculiarity was hereditary. Some men, who rise above their original position, either in character or fortune, endeavor to conceal their early history. Others obtrude it upon all occasions, in order to magnify themselves by a contrast between what they have been and what they are. But he did neither the one nor the other. The subject did not occupy his thoughts. He spoke of having been a tailor, whenever it came naturally in his way, but never for the sake of doing so. His having been born in a hen-house was a mere external accident in his eyes; and in the same light he regarded the fact that Victoria was born in a palace. What was the spiritual condition of the two at any given age, was the only thing that seemed to him of real importance.

His steadfastness in maintaining moral principles, "however unpopular those principles might be," was severely tried in the autumn of 1838. At a late hour in the night, two colored men came to his house, and one introduced the other as a stranger in the city, who had need of a lodging. Friend Hopper of course conjectured that he might be a fugitive slave; and this conjecture was confirmed the next morning. The stranger was a mulatto, about twenty-two years old, and called himself Thomas Hughes. According to his own account, he was the son of a wealthy planter in Virginia, who sold his mother with himself and his twin sister when they were eleven months old. His mother and sister were subsequently sold, but he could never ascertain where they were sent. When he was about thirteen, he was purchased by the son of his first master. Being hardly dealt with by this relative, he one day remonstrated with him for treating his own brother with so much severity. This was, of course, deemed a great piece of insolence in a bondman, and he was punished by being sold to a speculator, carried off hand-cuffed, with his feet tied under the horse's belly, and finally shipped for Louisiana with a coffle of five hundred slaves. He was bought by a gambler, who took him to Louisville, Kentucky. When he had lived there three years, his master, having lost large sums of money, told him he should be obliged to sell him. Thomas had meanwhile ascertained that his father had removed to Kentucky, and was still a very wealthy man. He obtained permission to go and see him, with the hope that he would purchase him and set him free. Accordingly, he called upon him, and told him that he was Thomas, the son of his slave Rachel, who had always assured him that he was his father. The rich planter did not deny poor Rachel's assertion, but in answer to her son's inquiries, he plainly manifested that he neither knew nor cared who had bought her, or to what part of the country she had been sent. Thomas represented his own miserable condition, in being sold from one to another, and subject to the will of whoever happened to be his owner. He intreated his father to purchase him, with a view to manumission; but himself and his proposition were both treated with supreme contempt. Thus rejected by his father, and unable to discover any traces of his mother, he returned disheartened to Louisville, and was soon after sent to New-Orleans to be sold. Mr. John P. Darg, a speculator in slaves, bought him; and he soon after married a girl named Mary, who belonged to his new master. Mr. Darg went to New-York, to visit some relatives, and took Thomas with him. It was only a few days after their arrival in the city, that the slave left him, and went to Isaac T. Hopper to ask a lodging. When he acknowledged that he was a fugitive, intending to take refuge in Canada, it was deemed imprudent for him to remain under the roof of a person so widely known as an abolitionist; but a very benevolent and intelligent Quaker lady, near eighty years old, named Margaret Shoemaker, gladly gave him shelter.

When Friend Hopper went to his place of business, after parting with the colored stranger, he saw an advertisement in a newspaper called the Sun, offering one thousand dollars reward for the apprehension and return of a mulatto man, who had stolen seven or eight thousand dollars from a house in Varick-street. A proportionate reward was offered for the recovery of any part of the money. Though no names were mentioned, he had reason to conjecture that Thomas Hughes might be the mulatto in question. He accordingly sought him out, read the advertisement to him, and inquired whether he had stolen anything from his master. He denied having committed any theft, and said the pretence that he had done so was a mere trick, often resorted to by slaveholders, when they wanted to catch a runaway slave. That this remark was true, Friend Hopper knew very well by his own experience; he therefore concluded it was likely that Thomas was not guilty. He expressed this conviction in conversation on the subject with Barney Corse, a benevolent member of the Society of Friends, who was kindly disposed toward the colored people. In compliance with Friend Hopper's request, that gentleman waited upon the editor of the Sun, accompanied by a lawyer, and was assured that a large amount of money really had been stolen from Mr. Darg, and that if he could recover it, he was willing to give a pledge for the manumission of the slave, beside paying the promised reward to whoever would enable him to get possession of the money. Barney Corse called upon Mr. Darg, who promptly confirmed the statement made by the editor in his name. The Friend then promised that he, and others who were interested for the slave, would do their utmost to obtain tidings of the money, and see it safely restored, on those conditions; but he expressly stipulated that he could not do it otherwise, because he had conscientious scruples, which would prevent him, in all cases, from helping to return a fugitive slave to his master.

It is to be observed that the promise of manumission was given as the highest bribe that could be offered to induce the slave to refund the money he had taken; for though in argument slaveholders generally maintain that their slaves have no desire for freedom, they are never known to _act_ upon that supposition. In this case, the offer served a double purpose; for it stimulated the benevolent zeal of Friend Hopper and Barney Corse, and induced the fugitive to confess what he had done. He still denied that he had any intention of stealing, but declared that he took the money merely to obtain power over his master, hoping that the promise to restore it would secure his manumission. It is impossible to tell whether he spoke truth or not; for poor Thomas had been educated in a bad school of morals. Sold by his father, abused by his brother, and for years compelled to do the bidding of gamblers and slave-speculators, how could he be expected to have very clear perceptions of right and wrong? The circumstances of the case, however, seem to render it rather probable that he really was impelled by the motive which he assigned for his conduct. Mr. Darg declared that he had previously considered him an honest and faithful servant; that he was in the habit of trusting him with the key of his trunk, and frequently sent him to it for money. The bank-bills he had purloined were placed in the hands of two colored men in New-York, because, as he said, he could not return them himself, but must necessarily employ somebody to do it for him, in the intended process of negotiating for his freedom.