COUNTRY, CONSCIENCE, AND THE ANTI-SLAVERY CAUSE:
AN ADDRESS DELIVERED IN NEW YORK, NEW YORK,
ON 11 MAY 1847

New York Daily Tribune, 13 May 1847. Other texts in New York Herald, 12 May 1847;
New York Morning Express, 12 May 1847; National Anti-Slavery Standard, 20 May 1847;
Pennsylvania Freeman, 20 May 1847; Liberator, 21 May 1847; Anti-Slavery Bugle, 28
May 1847; Foner, Life and Writings, 1: 234-43.

Only days after his return to the United States, Douglass, sensing that his
British antislavery tour foreshadowed a long crusade, predicted, “I still see
before me a life of toil and trials. . . but justice must be done, the truth must be
told. . . . I will not be silent. ” He delivered his first major address after his
return from England at the thirteenth anniversary meeting of the American
Anti-Slavery Society on 11 May 1847. New York’s Broadway Tabernacle,
which seated between three and four thousand persons, housed the meeting.
Sydney Howard Gay, editor of the National Anti-Slavery Standard, observed
that “the meeting was the largest we have ever seen at any anniversary, and
was pronounced by one who has attended nearly every year almost from the
first anniversary, to be the largest ever held.” The meeting opened at 10:00
A.M. Douglass entered carrying a large portable writing desk. GarrisonGarrison, William Lloyd

William Lloyd Garrison (1805-79) was the foremost white abolitionist of the nineteenth century and was credited with the discovery of Douglass as a speaker at an antislavery meeting in Nantucket in 1841. He began his career as an apprentice printer on the Newburyport (Mass.) Herald at the age of thirteen. Garrison became editor of the Newburyport Free Press in 1826, but the paper closed within a year. He was then associated with a series of periodicals in Boston that advocated reform before Benjamin Lundy offered the young journalist the opportunity to write for his antislavery newspaper. Garrison joined Lundy in editing the Genius of Universal Emancipation in Baltimore, Maryland, in 1829, during the last year of the paper's 1821-1830 run. In 1830 a libel suit against the editors forced the paper to close and landed Garrison in jail. After his release, he courted the wealthy merchants of New York and Boston in order to start the Liberator (1831-65), a weekly journal based in Boston in which he advocated an immediate end to slavery. Garrison's brand of abolition condemned any institution that would tolerate the existence of slavery, including churches, political parties. and even the United States itself and any scheme aimed at removing black people from the country. Instead, Garrison hoped to raise the public's awareness that slavery was morally wrong and thereby force its end in an almost millennial moment of emancipation. His approach appealed to both white and black antislavery advocates but earned him many enemies among those only moderately opposed to slavery and slaveholders alike. Seeing the need for greater action and organization beyond the pages of the Liberator; Garrison joined with other abolitionists to form the New England Anti-Slavery Society in 1831. Two years later he helped found the larger American Anti-Slavery Society. In 1833 he established ties with English abolitionists after a trip to Great Britain, and he later brought the noted and notorious speaker George Thompson to the United States for a tour. Garrison also dedicated himself to women's rights, encouraging women to enter the public sphere by inviting them, via the Liberator, to form female antislavery societies. In addition to the thirty-three women's antislavery societies that flourished by 1838, Garrison's American Anti-Slavery Society welcomed women as well as blacks into its ranks. However, female delegates were excluded from the World's Anti-Slavery Convention of 1840 in London. The issue of women's participation in the antislavery movement and Garrison's absolute refusal to turn to politics to end slavery caused a division in the American Anti-Slavery Society. Brothers Lewis and Arthur Tappan, who opposed women's acting as speakers and who hoped to use politics toward abolition, broke with Garrison's American Anti-Slavery Society, forming the American and Foreign Anti-Slavery Society, or the "New Organization" in 1841. Garrison's ideas were so closely associated with the "Old Organization" that the American Anti-Slavery Society became known simply as the "Garrisonians." With the passage of the Thirteenth Amendment in 1865, Garrison believed that he had accomplished his life's work and that of the antislavery movement. He then resigned from the presidency of the American Anti-Slavery Society and closed the Liberator. Wendell Phillips Garrison and Francis Jackson Garrison, William Lloyd Garrison, 1805-1879: The Story of His Life Told by His Children, 4 vols. (New York, 188589); Henry Mayer, All on Fire: William Lloyd Garrison and the Abolition of Slavery (New York, 1998); James Brewer Stewart, William Lloyd Garrison and the Challenge of Emancipation (Arlington Heights, Ill., 1992); John L. Thomas, The Liberator: William Lloyd Garrison (Boston, 1963); Dictionary of American Biography, 20 vols. (New York, 1928-36), 7:168-72. , the
president, began by reading the second and eighteenth chapters of Jeremiah,
and Samuel May, Jr., cousin of Samuel J. May, followed with a prayer.
Sydney Gay then read the annual report, and Francis JacksonJackson, Francis

A leading figure among Boston Garrisonians, Francis Jackson (1789-1861) was president of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society from 1837 until his death and secretary of the Boston Vigilance Committee in the 1850s. He presided over the 1841 Nantucket convention where Douglass launched his abolitionist career. Born in Newton, Massachusetts, Jackson moved to Boston as a young man to become a prosperous merchant and minor city government official. Jackson's considerable wealth was frequently put at Garrison's disposal to keep the Liberator in print. Lib., 22 November 1861; Stewart, William Lloyd Garrison, 128-31; ACAB, 3:386; NCAB, 2:318. A leading figure among Boston Garrisonians, Francis Jackson (1789–1861) was president of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society from 1837 until his death and secretary of the Boston Vigilance Committee in the 1850s. He presided over the 1841 Nantucket convention where Douglass launched his abolitionist career. Born in Newton, Massachusetts, Jackson moved to Boston as a young man to become a prosperous merchant and minor city government official. Jackson’s considerable wealth was frequently put at Garrison's disposal to keep the Liberator in print. Lib., 22 November 1861; Stewart, William Lloyd Garrison, 128-31; ACAB, 3:386; NCAB, 2:318. , treasurer of the
Society, gave the financial report. The business of the meeting having been
concluded, Wendell Phillips, who had been advertised as a major speaker for
the occasion, read and endorsed a resolution that called for the severance of
national ties with the slaveholding states. Garrison then introduced Douglass,
recalling the success of the latter’s trip to England and praising the English for
their egalitarian treatment of the fugitive slave. He read long newspaper
accounts of the farewell soirée given Douglass at the London Tavern and

commended the English press for its indignant reaction to Douglass's enforced
segregation on board the Cambria. The crowd, anxious to hear Douglass,
punctuated Garrison’s introduction with cries for “Douglass, Douglass,"
forcing him to abbreviate his remarks. Douglass rose to speak to a resolution
that deemed antislavery agitation to be “the right and the duty of the people of
all nations” and urged British abolitionists to “continue their co-operative
efforts until the last slave on the American soil is set free.” Many reports
pronounced his speech “eminently successful." Lewis Tappan wrote John
Scoble that “FD made a good speech & it was well received.” John Greenleaf
Whittier, in the National Era, voiced reservations about some of its sentiments,
but found the speech “a noble refutation of the charge of the natural
inferiority urged against the colored man.” On the other hand, the New York
Sun decried the “unmitigated abuse heaped on our country by the colored man
Douglass,” and a group of slaveholders from Baltimore reprinted and distributed
the speech in pamphlet form to illustrate the dangers of the abolition
movement. NASS, 13, 27 May 1847; New York Herald, 13 May 1847; New
York Sun, 13 May 1847; Washington (D.C.) National Era, 20 May 1847;
Douglass to “My Dear Friends," 29 April 1847, in British Friend, 5: 116-17
(May 1847); Douglass to Editor, New York Sun, 18 May 1847, in ASB, 18
June 1847; Garrison to Liberator, 11 May 1847, in Merrill and Ruchames,
Garrison Letters, 3: 477-80; Lewis Tappan to John Scoble, 15 May 1847, in
Abel and Klingberg, Side-Light on Anglo-American Relations, 222-23.

I am very glad to be here. I am very glad to be present at this Anniversary,
glad again to mingle my voice with those with whom I have stood identified,
with those with whom I have labored, for the last seven years, for the
purpose of undoing the burdens of my brethren and hastening the day of
their emancipation.

I do not doubt but that a large portion of this audience will be disappointed,
both by the manner and the matter of what 1 shall this day set forth.
The extraordinary and unmerited eulogies which have been showered upon
me, here and elsewhere, have done much to create expectations which, I am
well aware, I can never hope to gratify. I am here, a simple man, knowing
what I have experienced in Slavery, knowing it to be a bad system, and de
siring, by all Christian means, to seek its overthrow. I am not here to please
you with an eloquent speech, with a refined and logical address, but to speak
to you the sober truths of a heart overborne with gratitude to God that we
have in this land, cursed as it is with Slavery, so noble a band to second my
efforts and the efforts of others in the noble work of undoing the Yoke of
Bondage, with which the majority of the States of this Union are now unfortunately cursed.

Since the last time I had the pleasure of mingling my voice with the
voices of my friends on this platform, many interesting and even trying
events have occurred to me. I have experienced, within the last eighteen or
twenty months, many incidents, all of which it would be interesting to
communicate to you; but many of these I shall be compelled to pass over at
this time, and confine my remarks to giving a general outline of the manner
and spirit with which I have been hailed abroad, and welcomed at the
different places which I have visited during my absence of twenty months.

You are aware, doubtless, that my object in going from this country
was to get beyond the reach of the clutch of the man who claimed to own me
as his property. I had written a book giving a history of that portion of my
life spent in the gall and bitterness and degradation of Slavery, and in which
I also identified my oppressors as the perpetrators of some of the most
atrocious crimes. This had deeply incensed them against me and stirred up
within them the purpose of revenge, and, my whereabouts being known, I
believed it necessary for me, if I would preserve my liberty, to leave the
shores of America and take up my abode in some other land, at least until
the excitement occasioned by the publication of my Narrative had subsided.
I went to England, Monarchical England, to get rid of Democratic
Slavery, and I must confess that, at the very threshold, I was satisfied that I
had gone to the right place. Say what you will of England—of the
degradation—of the poverty—and there is much of it there—say what you
will of the oppression and suffering going on in England at this time, there
is Liberty there, there is Freedom there, not only for the white man but for
the black man also. The instant that I stepped upon the shore and looked
into the faces of the crowd around me, I saw in every man a recognition of
my manhood, and an absence, a perfect absence, of everything like that
disgusting hate with which we are pursued in this country. (Cheers) I
looked around in vain to see in any man’s face a token of the slightest
aversion to me on account of my complexion. Even the cabmen demeaned
themselves to me as they did to other men, and the very dogs and pigs of old
England treated me as a man! I cannot, however, my friends, dwell upon
this anti-Prejudice, or rather, the many illustrations of the absence of
Prejudice against Color in England, but will proceed, at once, to defend the
Right and Duty of invoking English aid and English sympathy for the
overthrow of American Slavery, for the education of Colored Americans,
and to forward, in every way, the interests of humanity; inasmuch as the
right of appealing to England for aid in overthrowing Slavery in this country
has been called in question, in public meetings and by the press, in this
City.

I cannot agree with my friend Mr. Garrison in relation to my love and
attachment to this land.¹Garrison had observed that Douglass “returned to his native country" despite many inducements to remain in England. No detailed account of Garrison’s introductory remarks survives. New York Herald, 12 May 1847. I have no love for America, as such; I have no
patriotism. I have no country. What country have I? The Institutions of this
Country do not know me—do not recognize me as a man. I am not thought
of, spoken of, in any direction, out of the Anti-Slavery ranks, as a man. I
am not thought of or spoken of, except as a piece of property belonging to
some Christian Slaveholder, and all the Religious and Political Institutions
of this Country alike pronounce me a Slave and a chattel. Now, in such a
country as this I cannot have patriotism. The only thing that links me to this
land is my family, and the painful consciousness that here there are
3,000,000 of my fellow creatures groaning beneath the iron rod of the
worst despotism that could be devised even in Pandemonium,—that here
are men and brethren who are identified with me by their complexion,
identified with me by their hatred of Slavery, identified with me by their
love and aspirations for Liberty, identified with me by the stripes upon their
ibacks, their inhuman wrongs and cruel sufferings. This, and this only,
attaches me to this land, and brings me here to plead with you, and with this
country at large, for the disenthrallment of my oppressed countrymen, and
to overthrow this system of Slavery which is crushing them to the earth.
How can I love a country that dooms 3,000,000 of my brethren, some of
them my own kindred, my own brothers, my own sisters, who are now
clanking the chains of Slavery upon the plains of the South, whose warm
blood is now making fat the soil of Maryland and of Alabama, and over
whose crushed spirits rolls the dark shadow of Oppression, shutting out and
extinguishing forever the cheering rays of that bright Sun of Liberty, lighted
in the souls of all God’s children by the omnipotent hand of Deity itself?
How can I, I say, love a country thus cursed, thus bedewed with the blood
of my brethren? A Country, the Church of which, and the Government of
which, and the Constitution of which are in favor of supporting and perpetuating
this monstrous system of injustice and blood? I have not, I cannot
have, any love for this country, as such, or for its Constitution. I desire to
see it overthrown as speedily as possible and its Constitution shivered in a
thousand fragments, rather than that this foul curse should continue to
remain as now. (Hisses and cheers.)

In all this, my friends, let me make myself understood. I do not hate
America as against England, or against any other country or land. I love

Humanity all over the globe. I am anxious to see Righteousness prevail in
all directions. I am anxious to see Slavery overthrown here; but, I never
appealed to Englishmen in a manner calculated to awaken feelings of
hatred or disgust, or to inflame their prejudices toward America as a nation,
or in a manner provocative of national jealousy or ill-will; but I always
appealed to their conscience—to the higher and nobler feelings of the
people of that country, to enlist them in this cause. I always appealed to
their manhood, that which preceded their being Englishmen, (to quote an
expression of my friend Phillips),²Wendell Phillips (1811-84), Boston-born and Harvard-educated lawyer and reformer, was regarded as one of the most compelling orators in the ranks of American abolitionism. Active in the American Anti-Slavery Society from 1837 onward, Phillips seldom deviated from orthodox Garrisonian doctrines except on the question of nonresistance. He supported the seating of women delegates at the World's Anti-Slavery Convention of 1840, eschewed political abolitionism, opposed the war with Mexico, condemned the U.S. Constitution as proslavery, and advocated disunion. After the Civil War he championed such varied causes as prohibition, woman suffrage, penal reform, Indian rights, and the eight-hour work day. Convinced that “Humanity has no country," he urged abolitionists to make common cause the world over. In addressing the meeting, Phillips had defended the policy of “No Union With Slaveholders" and had criticized the argument that individuals were not morally responsible for acts performed in obedience to the government: “We think that a man was born a man, before an American." Douglass apparently adapts this phrase. Irving H. Bartlett, Wendell Phillips: Brahmin Radical (Boston, 1961); Wendell Phillips, Speeches, Lectures, and Letters, 2d series (Boston, 1905), 23; NASS, 20 May 1847; DAB, 14 : 546-47. I appealed to them as men, and I had a
right to do so. They are men, and the Slave is a man, and we have a right to
call upon all men to assist in breaking his bonds, let them be born when and
live where they may.

But it is asked, “What good will this do?” or “What good has it
done?” “Have you not irritated, have you not annoyed your American
friends and the American people rather than done them good?" I admit that
we have imitated them. They deserve to be irritated. I am anxious to irritate
the American people on this question. As it is in physics, so in morals, there
are cases which demand irritation and counter-irritation. The conscience of
the American public needs this irritation, and I would blister it all over
from center to circumference, until it gives signs of a purer and a better life
than it is now manifesting to the world.

But why expose the sins of one nation in the eyes of another? Why
attempt to bring one people under the odium of another people? There is
much force in this question. I admit that there are sins in almost every
country which can be best removed by means confined exclusively to their
immediate locality. But such evils and such sins pre-suppose the existence
of a moral power in their immediate locality sufficient to accomplish the

work of renovation. But, where, pray, can we go to find moral power in this
nation sufficient to overthrow Slavery? To what institution, to what party
shall we apply for aid? I say we admit that there are evils which can be best
removed by influences confined to their immediate locality. But in regard
to American Slavery it is not so. It is such a giant crime, so darkening to the
soul, so blinding in its moral influence, so well calculated to blast and
corrupt all the humane principles of our nature, so well adapted to infuse its
own accursed spirit into all around it, that the people among whom it exists
have not the moral power to abolish it. Shall we go to the Church for this
influence? We have heard its character described. Shall we go to Politicians
or Political Parties? Have they the moral power necessary to accomplish
this mighty task? They have not. What are they doing at this moment?
Voting supplies for Slavery—voting supplies for the extension, the stability,
the perpetuation of Slavery in this land.³Douglass refers to national support for the U.S. war against Mexico (1846-48). Radical Democrats, Liberty-party men, and some Whigs opposed the war, which abolitionists viewed as a plot to extend slavery into newly conquered territory. Before adjourning on 3 March 1847, the 29th Congress passed an army appropriation bill of nearly $19 million. K. Jack Bauer, The Mexican War, 1846-1848 (New York, 1974), 360-65; John H. Schroeder, Mr. Polk's War: American Opposition and Dissent, 1846-1848 (Madison, 1973), 62-88; Richard H. Sewell, Ballots for Freedom: Antislavery Politics in the United States, 1837-1860 (New York, 1976), 139-42. What is the press doing? The
same. The pulpit? Almost the same. I do not flatter myself that there is
moral power in the land sufficient to overthrow Slavery, and I welcome the
aid of England. And that aid will come. The growing intercourse between
England and this country, by means of steam navigation, the relaxation of
the protective system in various countries in Europe, gives us an opportunity
to bring in the aid, the moral and Christian aid, of those living on the
other side of the Atlantic. We welcome it in the language of the resolution.
We entreat our British friends to continue to send their remonstrances
across the deep against Slavery in this land. And these remonstrances will
have a powerful effect here. Sir, the Americans may tell of their ability, and I
have no doubt they have it, to keep back the invader’s hosts, to repulse the
strongest force that its enemies may send against this country. It may boast,
and rightly boast of its capacity to build its ramparts so high that no foe can
hope to scale them—to render them so impregnable as to defy the assaults of
the world. But, Sir, there is one thing it cannot resist, come from what
quarter it may. It cannot resist TRUTH. You cannot build your forts so
strong, nor your ramparts so high, nor arm yourselves so powerfully, as to
be able to withstand the overwhelming MORAL SENTIMENT against Slavery

now flowing into this land. For example: Prejudice against Color is continually
becoming weaker in this land; and why? Because the whole European
Continent denounces this sentiment as unworthy a lodgment in the
breast of an enlightened community. And the American abroad dares not
now, even in a public conveyance, to lift his voice in defence of this
disgusting prejudice.

I do not mean to say that there are no practices abroad which deserve to
receive an influence, favorable to their extermination, from America. I am
most glad to know that Democratic Freedom—not the bastard Democracy
which, while loud in its protestations of regard for Liberty and Equality,
builds up Slavery, and, in the name of Freedom fights the battles of
Despotism—is making great strides in Europe. We see, abroad, in England
especially, happy indications of the progress of American principles. A
little while ago England was cursed by a Corn monopoly—by that giant
monopoly which snatched from the mouths of the famishing Poor the bread
which you sent from this land. The community—the people of England
demanded its destruction, and they have triumphed!⁴First enacted in 1815 during the agricultural depression that followed the Napoleonic Wars, the English Corn Laws established a system of graduated tariffs on foreign grain. Applied whenever the price of domestic grains fell, the laws prohibited the importation of foreign grain until the price of domestic grain rose and thereby kept the price of British agricultural products artificially high. A politically powerful landed aristocracy opposed any modification or repeal of the legislation, but agitation and public debate led by William Cobbett and other free-trade advocates, the Irish potato famine, and the simultaneous failure of the English wheat harvest resulted in repeal of the Corn Laws in June 1846. Norman McCord, The Anti-Corn Law League, 1838-1846 (London, 1958), 15-16, 96-103, 111-16, 188-207. We have aided them,
and they aid us, and the mission of the two nations, henceforth, is to serve
each other.

Sir, it is said that, when abroad, I misrepresented my country on this
question. I am not aware of any misrepresentation. I stated facts and facts
only. A gentleman of your own City, Rev. Dr. Cox,⁵Samuel Hanson Cox had condemned Douglass’s conduct in a letter of 8 August 1846 to the New York Evangelist. This document, together with Douglass's reply, was later reprinted as a pamphlet entitled Correspondence Between the Rev. Samuel H. Cox. D.D., of Brooklyn, L. I., and Frederick Douglass, A Fugitive Slave (New York, 1846). has taken particular
pains to stigmatize me as having introduced the subject of Slavery illegitimately
into the World’s Temperance Convention. But what was the fact? I
went to that Convention, not as a Delegate—I went into it by the invitation
of a Committee of the Convention. I suppose most of you know the circumstances,
but I wish to say one word in relation to the spirit and the principle
which animated me at that meeting. I went into it at the invitation of the

Committee, and spoke not only at their urgent request, but by public
announcement. I stood on the platform on the evening referred to, and
heard some eight or ten Americans address the 7,000 people assembled in
that vast Hall. I heard them speak of the Temperance movement in this
land. I heard them eulogize the Temperance Societies in the highest terms,
calling on England to follow their example (and England may follow them
with advantage to herself); but I heard no reference made to the 3,000,000
of people in this country who are denied the privilege, not only of Temperance,
but of all other Societies. I heard not a word of the American Slaves,
who, if seven of them were found together at a Temperance meeting or any
other place, would be scourged and beaten by their cruel tyrants. Yes,
nine-and-thirty lashes is the penalty required to be inflicted by the law if
any of the Slaves get together in a number exceeding seven, for any purpose,
however peaceable or laudable. And while these American gentlemen
were extending their hands to me, and saying, “How do you do, Mr.
Douglass? I am most happy to meet you here,” &c., &c., I knew that, in
America, they would not have touched me with a pair of tongs. I felt,
therefore, that that was the place and the time to call to remembrance the
3,000,000 of Slaves, whom I aspired to represent on that occasion. I did so,
not maliciously, but with a desire, only, to subserve the best interests of my
race. I besought the American Delegates who had at first responded to my
speech with shouts of applause, when they should arrive at home, to extend
the borders of their Temperance Societies, so as to include the 500,000
Colored People in the Northern States of the Union. I also called to mind
the facts in relation to the mob that occurred in the City of Philadelphia in
the year 1842. I stated these facts to show to the British public how difficult
it is for a colored man in this country to do anything to elevate himself or his
race from the state of degradation in which they are plunged; how difficult
it is for him to be virtuous or temperate, or anything but a menial, an
outcast. You all remember the circumstances of the mob to which I have
alluded. A number of intelligent, philanthropic, manly colored men, desirous
of snatching their colored brethren from the fangs of intemperance,
formed themselves into a procession and walked through the streets of
Philadelphia with appropriate banners, and badges, and mottoes. I stated
the fact that that procession was not allowed to proceed far, in the City of
Philadelphia—The American City of Brotherly Love, the city of all others
loudest in its boasts of freedom and liberty—before these noble-minded
men were assaulted by the citizens, their banners torn in shreds and them
selves trampled in the dust, and inhumanly beaten, and all their bright and

fond hopes and anticipations in behalf of their friends and their race blasted
by the wanton cruelty of their white fellow citizens. And all this was done
for no other reason than that they had presumed to walk through the streets
with Temperance banners and badges, like human beings.

The statement of this fact caused the whole Convention to break forth
in one general expression of intense disgust at such atrocious and inhuman
conduct. This disturbed the composure of some of our American representatives,
who, in serious alarm, caught hold of the skirts of my coat, and
attempted to make me desist from my exposition of the situation of the
colored race in this country. There was one Doctor of Divinity there—the
ugliest man that I ever saw in my life—who almost tore the skirts of my coat
off, so vehement was he in his friendly attempts to induce me to yield the
floor. But fortunately the audience came to my rescue, and demanded that
I should go on, and I did go on, and, I trust, discharged my duty to my
brethren in bonds and the cause of Human Liberty, in a manner not altogether
unworthy the occasion.

I have been accused of dragging the question of Slavery into the
Convention. I had a right to do so. It was the World’s Convention—not the
Convention of any sect or number of sects—not the Convention of any
particular Nation—not a man’s nor a woman’s Convention, not a black
man’s nor a white man’s Convention, but the World’s Convention, the
convention of ALL, black as well as white, bond as well as free. And I stood
there, as I thought, a representative of the 3,000,000 of men whom I had
left in rags and wretchedness to be devoured by the accursed Institution
which stands by them, as with a drawn sword, ever ready to fall upon their
devoted and defenceless heads. I felt, as I said to Dr. Cox, that it was
demanded of me by Conscience, to speak out boldly in behalf of those
whom I had left behind. (Cheers) And, sir, (I think I may say this,
without subjecting myself to the charge of egotism) I deem it very fortunate
for the friends of the Slave, that Mr. Garrison and myself were
there just at that time. Sir, the Churches in this country have long repined
at the position of the Churches in England on the subject of Slavery.
They have sought many opportunities to do away the prejudice of the
English Churches against American Slavery. Why, sir, at this time there
were not far from Seventy Ministers of the Gospel from Christian America,
in England, pouring their leprous pro-Slavery distilment into the ears
of the people of that country, and by their prayers, their conversation and
their public speeches, seeking to darken the British mind on the subject
of Slavery, and to create in the English public the same cruel and

heartless apathy that prevails in this country in relation to the Slave, his
wrongs and his rights. I knew them by their continuous slandering of my
race, and at this time, and under these circumstances, I deemed it a happy
interposition of God, in behalf of my oppressed, and misrepresented, and
slandered people, that one of their number should be able to break his
chains and burst up through the dark incrustations of malice and hate and
degradation which had been thrown over them, and stand before the British
public to open to them the secrets of the prison-house of bondage in
America. (Cheers) Sir, the Slave sends no Delegates to the Evangelical
Alliance. (Cheers) The Slave sends no Delegates to the World’s Temperance
Convention. Why? Because chains are upon his arms, and fetters fast
bind his limbs. He must be driven out to be sold at auction by some
Christian Slaveholder, and the money for which his soul is bartered must
be appropriated to spread the Gospel among the Heathen.

Sir, I feel it is good to be here. There is always work to be done.
Slavery is everywhere. Slavery goes out in the Cambria and comes back in
the Cambria.⁶Denied first-class passage on the Cambria during his initial voyage in 1845, Douglass voluntarily sought second-class accommodations as an economy measure when returning to the United States in 1847. Upon learning from the Cunard Line's London agent in March 1847 that second-class passage was no longer offered, Douglass paid the £40 19s. required of all passengers and received a ticket to berth 72 on the Cambria. Douglass claimed that, when paying the fare, he specifically asked whether “my color would prove any barrier to my enjoying all the rights and privileges enjoyed by other passengers” and that the ticket agent responded, “No." On the morning of 3 April, Douglass, accompanied by several well-wishers, boarded the Cambria at Liverpool only to learn that his berth had been assigned to another passenger. Captain Charles H. E. Judkins, who had befriended Douglass on the 1845 voyage, accompanied Douglass to the Cunard Line's Liverpool office, where officials informed him that the London agent had acted without authority in selling Douglass the original ticket. Douglass reluctantly struck a bargain, agreeing to give up his berth, to dine alone, and to make no attempt to mix with the “saloon company." In return he was assigned the choice quarters recently occupied by the Governor-General of Canada. Douglass charged that Charles McIver, the company's Liverpool agent, and Samuel Cunard in particular, proposed this arrangement, but McIver claimed that Douglass had agreed to the plan before coming to talk with him. McIver nevertheless noted that the Cunard Company was "not a reformatory society," and argued that Douglass's forced isolation was necessary in order to prevent a recurrence of the “serious disturbances" touched off by Douglass’s shipboard speeches in 1845. The voyage to Boston passed uneventfully. Douglass remained in the designated portion of the ship, contenting himself with visits from sympathetic passengers and willingly shunning “a band of wild, uproarious, gambling tipplers" who frequently gave vent to “foul-mouthed utterances" on the upper decks. Douglass's acquiescence to segregation in 1847 provoked more public discussion than had his stormy confrontations with proslavery Cambria passengers twenty months earlier. Garrison gave over eleven columns of the Liberator of 14 May 1847 to extracts from the British press condemning Douglass’s treatment. Responding to public pressure, Samuel Cunard announced on 13 April 1847 that "nothing of the kind will again take place in steamships with which I am connected." Douglass to the Editor, 3 April 1847, in London Times, 6 April 1847; Charles McIver to the Editor, 12 April 1847, in London Times, 13 April 1847; London Times, 8 April 1847; William Logan to Garrison, 17 April 1847, William Bevan to Editor of Liverpool Mercury, n.d., Samuel Cunard to Editor of London Times, 13 April 1847, in Lib., 14 May 1847; Douglass to Garrison, 21 April 1847, Douglass to [Anna] Richardson, 29 April 1847, in Newcastle-upon-Tyne Christian, 3: 518-22 (1 June 1847); Douglass to “My Dear Friend," 29 April 1847, in British Friend, 5: 116-17 (May 1847); Henry Fry, The History of North Atlantic Steam Navigation with Some Account of Early Ships and Shipowners (London, 1896), 56-57. 7. Slavery was in the Evangelical Alliance, looking saintly in

the person of Rev. Doctor SmytheSmyth, Thomas

A Presbyterian minister of Scots-Irish descent, Thomas Smyth (1808–73) was born in Belfast, Ireland, and educated at Belfast College and in London at Highbury College. After immigrating to the United States with his parents in 1830, he continued his studies at Princeton Theological Seminary before his ordination the following year. From 1834 until his death, he was the pastor of the Second Presbyterian Church in Charleston, South Carolina. A prolific writer of doctrinal treatises and devotional literature, Smyth also wrote an ethnological justification of African slavery titled The Unity of the Human Races (New York, 1850). In 1843 Princeton University awarded him a doctor of divinity degree. Smyth figured prominently in the early fortunes of the Free Church of Scotland, raising a large share of the approximately $9,000 that the Free Church collected from proslavery churches in the South. When some members of the Free Church began expressing abolitionist sentiments, Smyth threatened to discontinue southern financial support. In July 1846, both Douglass and Smyth were in Belfast to influence the General Assembly of the Irish Presbyterian Church. While Douglass and other abolitionists urged that the Free Church “send back the money,” Smyth wanted the church to take a proslavery position and counterattacked with the slogan “Send Back the Nigger.” After an attempt to discredit Douglass surfaced, Douglass sued Smyth for defamation of character. To avoid further controversy at the assembly, church leaders asked Smyth not to participate. Lib., 26 April 1844; Louisa Cheves [Smythe] Stoney, ed., Autobiographical Notes, Letters, and Reflections by Thomas Smyth, D.D. (Charleston, SC, 1914), 217–19; Thomas Smyth, The Claims of the Free Church of Scotland to the Sympathy and Assistance ofAmerican Christians (Edinburgh, Scot., 1844); idem, The Character of the Late Thomas Chalmers, D.D., LL.D., and the Lessons of His Life, from Personal Recollections (Charleston, S.C., 1848), 13–17; Blackett, Building an Antislavery Wall, 83–97; J. F. MacLear, “Thomas Smyth, Frederick Douglass, and the Belfast Antislavery Campaign,” South Carolina Historical Magazine, 80:288–94 (October 1979); George Shepperson, “Notes and Documents: Thomas Chalmers, the Free Church of Scotland, and the South,” Journal of Southern History, 17:520–26 (November 1951); idem, “The Free Church and American Slavery,” 132–33; ACAB, 5:600; DAB, 14:377–78. ; it was in the World’s Temperance
Convention, in the person of Rev. Mr. Kirk.⁷The Reverend Thomas Smyth, a Presbyterian minister of Charleston, South Carolina, and delegate to the 1846 Evangelical Alliance meeting in London; and the Reverend Edward Norris Kirk of Boston, Massachusetts. Dr. Marsh⁸The Reverend John Marsh, D.D. went about
saying, in so many words, that the unfortunate Slaveholders in America
were so peculiarly situated, so environed by uncontrollable circumstances
that they could not liberate their slaves; that if they were to emancipate
them they would be, in many instances, cast into prison. Sir, it did me good
to go around on the heels of this gentleman. I was glad to follow him around
for the sake of my country, for the country is not, after all, so bad as Rev.
Dr. Marsh represented it to be. My fellow countrymen, what think ye he
said of you, on the other side of the Atlantic? He said you were not only
pro-Slavery, but that you actually aided the Slaveholder in holding his
Slaves securely in his grasp; that, in fact, you compelled him to be a
Slave-holder. This I deny. You are not so bad as that. You do not compel
the Slaveholder to be a Slaveholder.

And Rev. Doctor Cox, too, talked a great deal over there; and among
other things he said that “many Slaveholders—dear Christian men!—were
sincerely anxious to get rid of their Slaves;” and to show how difficult it is
for them to get rid of their human chattels, he put the following case. A man
living in a State, the laws of which compel all persons emancipating their
slaves to remove them beyond its limits, wishes to liberate his slaves, but
he is too poor to transport them beyond the confines of the State in which he
resides; therefore he cannot emancipate them—he is necessarily a
Slaveholder. But, sir, there was one fact, which I happened, fortunately, to
have on hand just at that time, which completely neutralized this very
affecting statement of the Doctor’s. It so happens that Messrs. Gerrit SmithSmith, Gerrit

Gerrit Smith (1797– 1874), a New York businessman and land speculator, became best known for his philanthropic work for such reform causes as temperance and abolition. Between 1828 and 1835, he donated large sums of money to the American Colonization Society, but abandoned that movement in 1835 when his sympathies shifted to the immediate abolitionists. In the 1840s, he gave approximately 140,000 acres of land in upstate New York to three thousand black settlers, thus qualifying them to vote. Smith was a founder and frequent candidate of the Liberty party, running for governor of New York on that ticket in 1840 and winning a seat in Congress in 1852. When the Free Soil merger with moderate antislavery Democrats and Whigs lured away many Liberty party supporters, Smith helped bankroll that organization until 1860. Smith befriended Douglass when the latter moved to Rochester, and Smith frequently helped finance Frederick Douglass’ Paper. Like Douglass, Smith supported John Brown, but psychological stress caused by the failure at Harpers Ferry brought on the first of a series of bipolar episodes that greatly reduced his subsequent reform activities. Ralph Volney Harlow, Gerrit Smith: Philanthropist and Reformer (1939; New York, 1972); Gerald Sorin, The New York Abolitionists: A Case Study of Political Radicalism (Westport, Conn., 1971), 269– 87; Lewis Perry, Radical Abolitionism: Anarchy and the Government of God in Antislavery Thought (Ithaca, N.Y., 1973), 170– 80; John R. McKivigan and Madeleine Leveille, “The ‘Black Dream’ of Gerrit Smith, New York Abolitionist,” Syracuse University Library Associates Courier, 20:61– 76 (Fall 1985); NCAB , 2:322– 23; DAB, 17:270– 71.
and Arthur Tappan have advertised for the especial benefit of this afflicted
class of Slaveholders, that they have set apart the sum of $10,000 to be
appropriated in aiding them to remove their emancipated Slaves beyond the
jurisdiction of the State, and that the money would be forthcoming on

application being made for it; but no such application was ever made. This
shows that, however truthful the statements of these gentlemen may be
concerning the things of the world to come, they are lamentably reckless in
their statements concerning things appertaining to this world. I do not mean
to say that they would designedly tell that which is false, but they did make
the statements which I have ascribed to them.

And Doct. Cox and others charge me with having stirred up warlike
feeling while abroad. This charge, also, I deny. The whole of my arguments
and the whole of my appeals, while I was abroad, were in favor of
anything else than war. I embraced every opportunity to propagate the
principles of Peace while I was in Great Britain. I confess, honestly, that
were I not a Peace man, were I a believer in fighting at all, I should have
gone through England, saying to Englishmen, as Englishmen, “There are
3,000,000 of men across the Atlantic who are whipped, scourged, robbed
of themselves, denied every privilege, denied the right to read the Word of
the God who made them, trampled under foot, denied all the rights of
human beings; go to their rescue; shoulder your muskets, buckle on your
knapsacks, and in the invincible cause of Human Rights and Universal
Liberty, go forth, and the laurels which you shall win will be as fadeless
and as imperishable as the eternal aspirations of the human soul after that
Freedom which every being made after God’s image instinctively feels is
his birthright.” This would have been my course had I been a war man.
That such was not my course, I appeal to my whole career while abroad to
determine.

“Weapons of war we have cast from the battle:
TRUTH is our armor—our watchword is LOVE;
Hushed be the sword, and the musketry’s rattle,
All our equipments are drawn from above.
Praise then the God of Truth,
Hoary age and ruddy youth.
Long may our rally be
Love, Light and Liberty;
Ever our banner the banner of Peace."