Ethiop (William J. Wilson) to Frederick Douglass, January 31, 1852
From Our Brooklyn Correspondent.
Dear Douglass:—Newspaper corresponding is becoming quite the fashion. Of late, several stars of the first, second, third, and even fourth magnitude, have risen above the horizon, each striving to vie with the other in brilliancy and splendor, as they move on towards their meridian glory. Lo! there are "Communipaw," and S. R. W., and W. C. N., "Observer," and "Cosmopolite," and a host of others, risen, and about to rise in the newspaper firmament.
"Poor Ethiop, in the dim distance, is content his little round to run,
Of others knowing much, to others yet unknown."
At a period in the history of the people of color here, sprung into existence the RENOWNED COMMITTEE OF THIRTEEN. Mysterious Committee!!! Who shall unveil its mysteries? Who tell of its unseen but faithful doings? As several allusions have been made to them, it behooves me to say that it would be difficult to find an organized body of men, so small, yet possessing so many necessary requisites for their office-work; who have undergone a training so rigid, thereby qualifying them for the task so readily assigned them by a scrutinizing public. Being mostly men of long experience, and considerable position, in their combined capacity, and being able, efficient, fearless, discriminating, and honest in purpose, they are fully entitled to public confidence. Future history will assign them their proper NICHE, come what may; I shall but serve the present time by giving a brief out[illegible] of some of the more prominent of them.
Imagine to yourself, my dear Douglass, a group of twelve men, seated in a neatly furnished, well-warmed, and well-lighted room, in a respectable, but retired part of the TOWN, on a cold December night. The fierce storm and howling wind are raging without, and the rain comes tapping against the window as though seeking admission. They draw closer, seemingly in expectation of some one. Presently the door opens, a man enters, the Committee of Thirteen are before you. Near the centre of the group, is seated one scarcely of middle height, and of slight stature; and were it not for his massive head and broad forehead, the large arm-chair in which he sits would almost bury him. But there is a countenance indicating that you are in the presence of a superior man, of a master mind. He is quiet, and commands others to be so. There is something of interest going on. Some proposition is made.—He wishes to speak, and vacates his seat to do so. The slight hesitation, at first visible, disappears, and without farther preface, he, in a clear, succinct and forcible manner, expresses his views. He takes his seat. Few, if any will attempt to rebut these opinions; there is no need of that, he has made the matter so plain, the proposition so clear that it is either at once adopted or rejected. A tall young man of good appearance rises, and commences to speak. His manner is vehement, his style is logical and determined; he is bent on his purpose. He has made a propos[it]ion and it must "go through." "There is
nothing of the way of him who wills," I should judge is his motto. With him there is no concealment of opinion, no shrinking from debate; he rather courts it. Realizing the idea that antagonism of thought begets thought, he seems rather anxious to rub his against those of his fellow-members; to the little facilities he uses will gain him ascendancy over you, ere you are aware of it, and no child's play must be used in handling him.—But he has spoken and taken his seat. But there is (and I should have mentioned it) another massive head in the room; one that a phrenologist would be proud to pronounce upon. The possessor is perched upon a stool with his head inclined forward. Beneath an overhanging and expressive brow, a pair of small, piercing black eyes occasionally flash from out their half-closed lids, fore-shadowing what is working within. He seems intent rather upon his own thoughts, than upon the argument of the member who has just taken his seat. And now all eyes are tured upon him. He quickly rises, and without hesitation, commences to speak.—His opinion was expected, and he gives it at once. His first sentence, (whether in jest or earnest,) tells you he is a gentleman and a scholar: the next, that a great master mind is developing itself. Has the former speaker brought rhetoric and logic to bear upon the subject? 'tis well if they agree; if not, of what avail are they? They are swept away like the cobweb of an hour. They are gathered up, as it were, with one grasp of his mighty mind, and hurled to the ground, and shivered like a mirror; and he stands amidst the wreck he has made, calm clear, and collected. I had almost forgotten, that there
have been before me, for the last half hour, a pair of eyes, that I should say, bore a very near resemblance to those of Robespierre. Like his, their quick twitching motion, is indicative either of cloud, and storm, and tempest, or of sun, and warmth, and mildness within; and utterance is needed to interpret the expression. Like the great Frenchman, he seldom speaks; nature intended he should not, except on an emergency; then, with a moment's patience, you will see, as it were, the gold separated from the dross.
"But not with honied words, nor accents soft
'Tis done, though smooth, sarcastic, and severe by turns."
Had your attention (now that there is quiet) been directed to some choice book or periodical, many of which are strewn about the room, and should it be arrested by the soft, mild notes that drop upon your ear, listen!! but trust not to the melody, 'tis but the fair notes of the fairy, the enthusiastic member. What a face and countenance!! what a volume of sanguinity is there!!!—The head, eyes, and mouth are all large, and the face, ere a moment has elapsed, is lit up with the fiery torch of animation, and as he inclines forward the whole man seems but the embodiment of heat, THE WHITE HEAT.—The chief forte of this member lays in his capacity to fence up the way, for the other members to pull down; to roll stones across the path, that they may take out, or stumble over, as they please. His course works good however; it compels them to look ahead; others outside of this body are thereby often cheated out of an opportunity to hurl an oft-prepared missile at them.
By the table, taking notes, is a young man, seemingly a youth of gentle manners and pleasant bearing. He has learned the important lesson, that a young man at the end of his college journey has but taken the initiatory step in the journey of life. Paul sat at the feet of Gamaliel; the youngest member of the body is silently, mentally gathering up, and storing for the future; and the part assigned him in the Committee, is well calculated to air his efforts. But stop! who is this in the back ground? Faith, he is a handsome man! "mustaches," "imperial," and all, to have been unobserved! No mat-
ter, his time has not yet come. He now, for the first time, rises. There is silence in the room, for a little mirth now and then creeps in to light the weight of care and toil. Silence now reigns, and all eyes are turned toward the spot of the imperiated member. I once saw a picture of a critic standing at a bench with a huge knife in his hand, cutting up an author. I can compare this cutting up member to nothing else I can conceive of.—Piece by piece do the other members see their speeches, propositions, good, bad, and indifferent, hacked up, amid roars of laughter, and shout of applause. Wit, fun, sarcasm, collectively, are the reign of the moment. With him all is earnest. At length he ceases, and all goes on harmoniously as ever. Should you ask whence this knowledge of this wonder-working Committee, permit me to say, I was once fortunate enough to be an admitted guest of their sittings.
"They little know, these jolly folks.
'Twas Ethiop 'mong them takin' notes."
A few of the prominent features of this renowned "Committee of Thirteen," my dear Douglass, are now before you; I have been rather hiding their presence and power, than exposing them. I shall, [on] another occasion, speak of the causes of the formation of this Committee, and the honorary members, &c., as I deem such matters, a portion of the history of the people of color here.
Yours truly, Ethiop.
Brooklyn Heights, Jan. 31, 1852.