Julia Griffiths to Frederick Douglass, October 28, 1858

Our Correspondence.

LETTERS FROM THE OLD WORLD.

NUMBER LXI.

HALIFAX, Oct. 28, 1858.

MY DEAR FRIEND:—Here I am, once again, in the midst of my warm hearted Yorkshire friends, and under the roof of those devoted, earnest and indefatigable friends of the slave, Mr. and Mrs. Russell Carpenter. It was a long promise that I should be present at the Anti-Slavery Bazaar, held here last week, and it gave me great pleasure to redeem it, and to meet not only the members of the Halifax Society, but members of other Yorkshire Anti-Slavery Associations, some of whom came a considerable distance to take part in this second Halifax effort, made on behalf of the oppressed colored people of the United States. My Wakefield friends did nobly—not only did a fine array of contributions from Wakefield appear on the tables, but the Society there was well represented by the Secretary, the Treasurer, and several other members of the Committee. It is cheering to find that a few earnest people may, everywhere, be found to work for the slave; and when we consider that most of these friends necessarily work by "faith," rather than by "sight," (while near chains are constantly presenting themselves to their Christian sympathy and benevolence,) we cannot be too grateful to all such. As, by this mail, a kind friend sends you a sketch of the Bazaar, I shall not enter into any particulars, but simply add that the results of this Second Annual Bazaar were (all circumstances considered) quite satisfactory to the friends of the cause in this locality, and that, I feel assured they will all go forward, (stimulated by renewed hope,) and make fresh exertions on behalf of this truly Christian cause.

The Society here comprehends the nature and character of the anti-slavery movement. It is, without doubt, a good work—a very good work to assist poor fugitive slaves; these poor wanderers (some of whom are ever escaping from the Southern prison-house) commend themselves at once to the warm sympathy of all lovers of their brother man—not one of them should be uncared for. I trust and believe that in Syracuse, and in Rochester, none are ever uncared for. During my residence in Rochester, I never remember one being sent away unassisted—for, when the treasury of the Rochester Society was empty (as was sometimes the case towards the close of the year,) and fugitives came for aid, some among us went on begging expedition, (cold and snow not withstanding,) and obtained from kind-hearted citizens of Rochester the sum needed to send on these poor pilgrims to the Land of Freedom. I have said that it is a good work to aid the flying fugitive and I am sure it is a pleasant work; yet I wish all our co-operating friends on this side of the Atlantic to bear in mind it is not the only work that should be done by the friends of the negro. Hundreds, it is true, run away yearly from slavery, )and I thank God for it!) but MILLIONS remain in their dreary Southern prison-house, for whom

there is no hope of thus escaping. One important work to be done, is to circulate anti-slavery information through the length and breadth of the Northern States, showing the people the sin and suffering of slavery, and arousing them from their apathy, to "quit themselves like men," and "be strong" in the right. The Press and the Lecturer can alone carry forward this great work of anti-slavery propagandism; the Press and the Lecturer must, therefore, be sustained; they are powerful instruments in the regeneration of a nation, and cannot be dispensed with while slavery lasts.

I am glad to learn that you are engaged to lecture before the Rochester Society. I trust your's will be the first of a series of lectures, that shall vie, in moral and intellectual power, with that fine course of lectures, given four years since, in your city, by some of the ablest men in the abolition ranks. Then, the fearless and indomitable HENRY WARD BEECHER kindly and generously lectured on behalf of the Ladies' Society, "without money and without price"—the noble SUMNER stood in Corinthian Hall before a Rochester audience—and many other choice spirits came forward at the summons of the Rochester Association, to give their testimony against the sin of slavery, and their helping hand to those who are humbly, but earnestly laboring for its extinction. Let this band of true patriots be again called by the ladies of Rochester, and sure I am they will not be found wanting, (one "noble Roman," alone excepted, for the restoration of whose health all who love the cause of the slave should pray.)

My friends here are asking what is doing in Rochester? The last Annual Report of the Society there gave great satisfaction; but it is beginning to seem long since it was issued.

That slavery is a gigantic evil far off, and that friends on this side of the ocean can do little towards its removal, is sometimes alleged by those who do not enter into the subject sufficiently to know what may be done by distant friends in this matter. We, in this country, are not on the ground to fight the moral battle ourselves, but we can send over ammunition to the man and the women who are steadfastly waging war against the monster evil, "with no thought of flinching," till they die. These American friends, (be they black, be they white,) whose disinterested labors in behalf of their enslaved brothers and sisters, are steadily carried on, year after year, command our admiration, enlist our sympathy, and deserve our continuous co-operation. I am wishing my valued British friends, who are members of various Anti-Slavery Societies in this country, fully to appreciate the importance of the work they are engaged in, and to be assured it has its effect across the Atlantic, more or less. (I have been there, dear friends, and know how cheering it is to open a box of beautiful contributions from England, Scotland or Ireland, sent out for the Anti-Slavery Bazaar and giving alike evidence that the slave is not forgotten, and that the work of the friends in his behalf is sympathized with by those afar off.)—And then I want my friends here (yes, even the most active and efficient of my op-operating friends.) to strive to realize, as far as may be, how much self-denial is needed to work for the emancipation of the slave in a country where prejudice against color (that disease almost unknown in England) permeates every phase of

society, where the colored man is looked down upon as belonging to an inferior creation, and his friends are regarded as fannies, and to resolve (with the blessing of God) to do all that in them lies towards holding up the hands of the struggling few who are among the faithless, "faithful" found.

I did not intend to be so prosy and [serious?] like when I commenced; but I heard a lady say a short time since, she "could not see that we in this country, could do any good in the matter of slavery, except by, now and then, sending over aid to fugitives." I have been led to think a good deal on the subject—for I am sure that many hundreds feel as this lady does—were they but once convinced that anything in their power to do, would, ever so remotely, reach the evil, they would at once begin to work; and by so doing, they would enable trans-Atlantic friends to do more, since the chief business here is to furnish "material aid."

As an illustration of how familiarity with crime and cruelty sears the conscience and hardens the heart, I will mention that I recently was favored (by a friend of mine) with the perusal of a letter, written by his son, who has been, for some years past, resident in the State of Virginia. I shall not mention his name, but you knew him, and I knew him previous to his entering the Southern States, a fine, noble young Englishman, full of generous sympathies for the oppressed colored people, an of hatred to slavery. The letter I refer to was written within a few months of reaching Virginia; it is full of eloquent denunciations of the existing evil, and mentions an appalling circumstance he had just witnessed in the town in which he was staying. There had been a slave auction—two find young men were taken there and sold South. The grief of both was extreme; but one was worked up to a pitch of desperation, and he rushed past the bystanders, towards a butcher's shop, picked up a hatchet, and with one of his hands, he chopped off the other! I believe he died a few days later. You may imagine how any warmhearted, kindly person would express himself after beholding such a deed; but neither you nor I can understand how that same young man is now dumb on the subject of slavery! He never names it in writing to his friends. Perhaps the key to the enigma is the fact that he married into a Southern family, and that his little daughter now owns slaves!! His family are thoroughly anti-slavery; his sweet young sisters have become earnest workers for the poor slave, and yet not very long ago, I had a juvenile anti-slavery meeting in their drawing-room.—Often, when hearing instances of this kind, do the words of Hazel come to my mind—"Is thy servant a dog that he should do this thing?"—Alas! for poor human nature! Gold dust is thrown into the eyes, and moral vision becomes obscured.

One of our great public lectures, (a friend of mine, and gentleman well known to you,) talks of spending some months in the States next year. I trust he will be true to his convictions as regards to slavery. He says he means to "see for himself," to "judge for himself," &c. He also told me he thought of going South first, commencing with a plantation in Florida. I hope and fear about him, by turns; as great men as he have fallen down before the popular idol!

May he be "kept from falling!"

In my last letter I promised to give you some account of the wonderful School in Bristol founded and carried on my Mr. George Muller; but as my epistle is already sufficiently lengthy, I shall resolve the little history until next time.

My epistle from Bristol closed hastily, and I cannot now remember whether I told you of my visit to Bath, and to other places of interest near? My kind friends contrived that I should see as much as possible during my agreeable visit to Bristol; engagements in the north compelled me to shut my ears to tempting proposals, relative to Chepstow, Tintern Abbey, &c.; and, as part compensation for the self-denial, I found myself, (in little more than a week from quitting Bristol,) standing in Bolton Abbey, looking on the glorious old woods, gorgeous in autumn coloring—on the rushing waters of the winding Wharfe, and the beauteous cascade, pouring down the hill side. Each season has its own peculiar charm; but the grand woods of Bolton are doubly grand when decked with the thousand hues of autumn! and Rumbles' Moor looks to best advantage when the floodgates are opened, and the torrent comes thundering down the hill side.

Our friend, Mr. C., took me over Mr. Akroyd's works yesterday. I was astonished and bewildered at what I saw there. In one shed there were eight looms, and nearly one thousand men and women weaving woolen fabrics of various kinds. The perfection to which machinery is brought is almost miraculous. I saw the wool washing, carding, winding, &c., and every process in rotation, to the completion of the stuff. Curtains, carpets and table covers, and dresses of almost innumerable kinds, are manufactured at these extensive works. Mr. Akryod is member for Huddersfield, and is a man highly esteemed and respected, far and wide. Halifax is a highly favored town, to be in possession of such noble, public-spirited men as the Messrs. Crossley and Mr. Akroyd, all of whom are doing a vast amount of good throughout the large circles in which they move, and planning an executing everything possible to promote the comfort of their many work-people and the true interest of their native town.—Long may they live! Truly may it be said of each one of them, "when the ear heard" them "then it blessed" them.

The Congregational Union have just been holding their autumnal meetings in Halifax.—The hundreds of delegates have gone away deeply impressed with the boundless hospitality and munificence of the Halifax people. But I must close, and dare not enter upon the subject of the Union meetings, lest the American mail depart without my epistle!

Ever your's truly, dear friend,

JULIA GRIFFITHS.