J[oseph] C. H[olly] to Frederick Douglass, October 28, 1853
Letter from Calvin Fairbank.
Boliver, N. Y., March 31st, 1851.
Dear Douglass:ー
I can well exclaim, "O for a lodge in some vast wilderness!
Some boundless contiguity of shade!
My ear is pained, my soul is sick with
Every day's report of wrong and outrage."
Standing as I do, between New England and Ohio, though I see a mighty odds between the two, yet there is much of every day that must give pain to every christian heart, and cause it, sickened, to turn away from such republicanism, such somerset religion as ours.
I hear of a fugitive taken here and there, on all sides of me; and I hear people say, "O, well I s'pose its all right, or it would not be allowed." What cold consolation to the slave, that! Fugitives from all parts of the country are selling out, and going to Canada. Going to Canada! God bless that lion! May her neck grow thick with mane for the slave to settle in, for he found no rest in the eagle's nest. So he nestles in the mane of the lion.
At the Smith Settlement on the Oswego, commonly known as Oswego, there is quite a number of families living in a respectable mannerーclearing up farms, and living as other industrious people live. There was not, and there is not at this time, any danger to any of them, for I think, that if a miscreant should come on such an errand, the wax in his ears would get one warming before he left.
But then people felt unsafe. Honest, christian men who, when they worship "under their own vine and fig tree with none to molest or make them afraid," are obliged to be armed with knives and pistols, were afraid, and have sold out their right to the soil in the United States, and are now on their way to Canada.
On Friday last, I was noticing a good looking waggon coming with one man rather dark. It was a new thing in this place for a white gentlemen to welcome people of color to his table. I met them as they stopped, and learned that they were on their way to visit their friends on the Oswego.
They were Mr. Hough and a part of his family. I invited them in. They accepted the invitation. Dinner was prepared, and we partook. Several of the neighbors sent over to know if these people were fleeing from slavery. Mr. H. is a comfortable farmer, just as too many colored people are not. They went to take their last visit with those unfortunate fugitives, who, after clearing off little farms, and establishing themselves otherwise comfortably, must leave all but a mere pittance, and go in search of new homes in the North. They are gone, the fugitive act cannot reach them there. I love the land that protects them. They are gone from this free country.
See the honest, the free, and brave,
The denizen of the soil:
He wrought, and knew no slave,
Inured to constant toil.
He swept away the tree,
By the steady manlike stroke,
He labored, and was free;
And then the chimney's smoke
Marked where the cottage stood,
While the faithful husband's arm
Wrang music from the wood,
The wifeーwas there no charm?
She watched the returning morn
With more than a watchman's zeal;
The wheat and the blade of corn,
She grew for the winter's meal:
The corn's last ear was hanging,
And the ebony darling saw,
While the ebony father was singing,
These words, "NO HIGHER LAW!"
Herschel all was still and fearful!
The night was wet and drearー
The mother's eye was tearful,
But the father's arm was near.
Rouse up, ye men, and hast ye!
For the bloodhound's on your track,
Lest the eagle's tallon waste ye,
And the Christian send us back.
They're gone! the fields are lonely,
The Marshal calls the swain,
They left not houses onlyー
They nestle in the lion's mane.
Yours in behalf of the slave,
Calvin Fairbank.
For Frederick Douglass' Paper.
MR. EDITOR:—I have lately read an ar
ticle, in the Voice of the Fugitive, comment
ing on your remaks in relation to the Emi
gration Convention, as also the able letter of
my esteemed friend, J. M. Whitfield—able,
because it contained the best argument on
that side of the question.
There is an assumption running through
all the argumments in favor of this movement,
which, in my opinion, is erroneous; viz:—that the colored people can do nothing to el
evate themselves to an equality with the
whites in this country; and that those who
remain in the country are hopelessly and
supinely hugging the delusion that their
enemies are going to elevate them from an
innate love of justice. This position is stat
ed in the Voice of the Fugitive thus: "A
man that would cling to the wreck of a sink
ing craft, simply because it perchance might
have been the place of his birth, while there
was ample means of escape to a good boat,
are thereby to assist others who are lodged
upon broken fragments, who would other
wise perish and die, is not only guilty of su
icide, but is not to be trusted with the lives
and liberties of others," &c.
Now, those who assume the above position
are mistaken in their view of the post of
duty; they certainly manifest a becoming
disposition to be away from the post of dan
ger.
The men who assembled in Rochester in
July, 1853, are not clinging to a wreck.—They are contending hand to hand with a
giant, though vincible prejudice; they know
that just so sure as justice rules on high, the
arm of the Omnipotent is on their side; they
have calculated the cost of victory, and
are determined to fight manfully until the
end. They feel their identity with the three
million slaves in this country, and no con
sideration of personal case will make them
desert them.
We place here, on this stage of action,
by Providence; and this is the field where
our labors are most needed. Manhood, which
will be felt elsewhere, will be felt here.—That which will not make itself respected
here, will hardly command respect elsewhere.
Crummell, Garnett, Ward, and others, who
had made their mark here, and their migra
tion elsewhere, was rather in obedience to
their discretion that their valor.
To call those, who, through fear, or love
of case, desert the great battle of human
rights and human brotherhood, now being
waged in this country, "bold architects of
their own fortunes," is perhaps well enough;
but for my part I admire the Penningtons
and Douglasses, who, though honored abroad,
preferred to return and have a common des-
tiny with their race. It certainly is a mis
nomer to call an ex-parte gathering, like that
called to assemble at Cleveland, a National
Convention. However, if the friends of the
cause can affored to issue such a Call, we have
no reason to complain.
When in Boston, in 1851, I glanced hastily
at a copy of M. R. Delany, M. D., on the des
tiny of the colored race. That argus-eyed
friend of liberty and equality, W. L. Garri
son, remaked in relation to it, "That it ad
mitted the necessity and urged the duty of
emigration, and thereby surrendered the
whole ground claimed by Colonizationists;
for if you admit that the colored man can
not be elevated here—that there is an im
passable gulph between them and the whites,
and they must remove, then the Coloniza
tionist were right, and Africa was as much
entitled to consideration, as any other part
of the globe"—a consideration to which, I
think, every unprejudiced mind must come.
J. C. H.