The Freedmen's Book E-Book

Lydia Maria Child

• Herausgeber: Interactive Media
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

The Freedmen's Book, written by Lydia Maria Child, is an important socio-cultural phenomenon of the nineteenth century. It is a text that exemplifies the rich intellectual and discursive history of the African American experience within a predominantly white society. This work provides valuable insight into the struggles experienced by freedmen during this period and offers readers an understanding of how African American culture adapted to new circumstances while maintaining its distinct heritage.

Leseprobe

Lydia Maria Child

The Freedmen’s Book

Published by Sovereign

This edition first published in 2023

Copyright © 2023 Sovereign

All Rights Reserve

ISBN: 9781787365636

Contents

IGNATIUS SANCHO.

PREJUDICE REPROVED.

BENJAMIN BANNEKER.

ETHIOPIA.

THE HOUR OF FREEDOM.

WILLIAM BOEN.

PRAYER OF THE SLAVE.

THE ASPIRATIONS OF MINGO.

BURY ME IN A FREE LAND.

PHILLIS WHEATLEY.

A PERTINENT QUESTION.

THE WORKS OF PROVIDENCE.

THE DYING CHRISTIAN.

KINDNESS TO ANIMALS.

JAMES FORTEN.

THE MEETING IN THE SWAMP.

A REASONABLE REQUEST.

THE SLAVE POET.

RATIE:

THE KINGDOM OF CHRIST.

THE BEGINNING AND PROGRESS OF EMANCIPATION IN THE BRITISH WEST INDIES.

THE LAST NIGHT OF SLAVERY.

MADISON WASHINGTON.

EXTRACT FROM THE VIRGINIA BILL OF RIGHTS.

PRAISE OF CREATION.

FREDERICK DOUGLASS.

HOW THE GOOD WORK GOES ON.

DEDICATION HYMN.

WILLIAM AND ELLEN CRAFTS.

SPRING.

THE GOOD GRANDMOTHER.

“THEY CANNOT TAKE CARE OF THEMSELVES.”

THE COLORED MOTHER’S PRAYER.

WILLIAM COSTIN.

EDUCATION OF CHILDREN.

AN HONORABLE RECORD.

THANK GOD FOR LITTLE CHILDREN.

SAM AND ANDY.

JOHN BROWN AND THE COLORED CHILD.

THE AIR OF FREEDOM.

EMANCIPATION IN THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA, APRIL 16, 1862.

THE LAWS OF HEALTH.

PRESIDENT LINCOLN’S PROCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION, JANUARY 1, 1863.

NEW-YEAR’S DAY ON THE ISLANDS OF SOUTH CAROLINA, 1863.

SONG OF THE NEGRO BOATMEN AT PORT ROYAL, S. C.

EXTRACT FROM SPEECH BY HON. HENRY WILSON TO THE COLORED PEOPLE IN CHARLESTON, S. C., APRIL, 1865.

EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH BY HON. JUDGE KELLY TO THE COLORED PEOPLE IN CHARLESTON, S. C., APRIL, 1865.

BLACK TOM.

LETTER FROM A FREEDMAN TO HIS OLD MASTER.

COLONEL ROBERT G. SHAW.

ADVICE FROM AN OLD FRIEND.

DAY OF JUBILEE.

IGNATIUS SANCHO.

BY L. MARIA CHILD.

This was the name of a remarkable African, who excited a good deal of interest in his day. His father and mother were stolen from Africa and put on board a slave-ship in 1729, which was one hundred and thirty-six years ago. He was born during the passage, and when the vessel arrived at Carthagena, in South America, he was baptized by the name of Ignatius. His mother died soon after, and his father, seeing no means of escape from slavery, killed himself in a fit of despair. The man who took possession of the little orphan, and claimed to be his master, carried him to England, and gave him to three unmarried sisters who lived at Greenwich. He was then about two years old, a bright, lively, funny little creature. As he grew older, he showed such an inquisitive mind, said so many droll things, and was so full of mischief, that the ladies named him Sancho, after a very comical character in a famous old Spanish novel. He was very eager in the pursuit of knowledge; but this commendable disposition was not approved by the ladies. They thought that all a black servant had occasion to know was how to obey orders, and that it was not necessary or proper for him to learn to read and write. But nature had given Ignatius a very lively mind, and a very susceptible heart, and neither of them could be kept quiet. He early plunged into love affairs, and was always overrunning with fun and frolic. Doubtless he was a great trial to the respectable maiden ladies, who were training him for a servant; and he, on his part, thought them very sour, severe, and disagreeable. Sometimes, when they were angry with him, they reminded him that he had been a slave, and threatened to send him into slavery again. This excited uneasiness in his mind, and kindled resentment.

The Duke of Montagu lived in the neighborhood, and his attention was attracted by the bright, frank countenance of the black boy. He entered into conversation with him occasionally, and was so much struck by his intelligence and wit, that he told the ladies their servant was a remarkable lad, and that his earnest desire to improve his mind ought to be gratified. They persisted in their opinion that knowledge was a very improper and dangerous thing for a black servant. But the Duke introduced him to the Duchess, and they both encouraged him to learn to read and write. They lent him books, and were greatly entertained by his bright remarks concerning what he read.

It was a great grief to Ignatius when the friendly Duke died. He besought the Duchess to receive him into her service, and she consented. He remained in her household as long as she lived. At her death, she left him an annuity of about one hundred and fifty dollars a year; and he had three hundred and fifty dollars, which he had laid up from his wages. He might have made this sum the foundation of a comfortable little property. But nature had made him very full of fun and frolic. He had such lively manners, and uttered so many pleasant jokes, that his company was much sought for. This proved a temptation too strong for him. He accepted invitations to go to taverns, where he gambled away his earnings. He had a great passion for going to the theatre; and his conduct with regard to women was far from being correct.

But he soon saw the error of his ways, and resolved to reform. He went to the Chaplain of Montagu House, and begged to be taken into his service, where he remained several months. The descendants of his old friend, the Duke, encouraged him to persevere in his good resolutions; and when the young Duke saw that he continued sober and industrious, he took him into his employ. By the blessing of the Heavenly Father, another saving influence came to help him into the paths of virtue. He formed a serious attachment for a very worthy young woman from the West Indies, to whom he was soon after married. He remained in the employ of the Duke of Montagu until he was about forty-four years old. Frequent attacks of the gout, and clumsiness resulting from an hereditary tendency to corpulence, rendered him unfit to continue in the service to which he had so long been accustomed. His good friend and patron the Duke assisted him to establish a small shop for groceries. By economy and industry, he and his good wife managed to rear and educate well a numerous family of children.

He always retained his love of learning, and was such a diligent reader, that he was well acquainted with the current literature of that time. He was treated with respect and attention by many intelligent and educated people. Though not so full of fun as he was in his younger days, his conversation was entertaining. The letters he wrote to various persons abound with good sense, and show that he was very affectionate and devoted as a husband and father. He evidently regarded his wife as the best blessing of his life. In one of his letters to a friend he says: “The hot weather does not befriend Mrs. Sancho, but time will, I hope. If true worth could plead exemption from pain and sickness, she would, by right divine, enjoy the best of health.” On another occasion he writes: “I can compare her to nothing so properly as a diamond in the dirt. But, my friend, that is Fortune’s fault, not mine; for had I the power, I would case her in gold.” Years later, he writes: “Dame Sancho would be better in health, if she cared less. I am her barometer. If a sigh escapes me, it is answered by a tear in her eye. I often assume gayety to illume her dear sensibility with a smile, which twenty years ago almost bewitched me, and which still constitutes my highest pleasure. May such be your lot, my friend. What more can friendship wish you than to glide down the stream of time with a partner of congenial principles and fine feelings, whose very looks speak tenderness and sentiment.”

After a severe illness he wrote to a friend: “I had excruciating pains and great lack of patience. Mrs. Sancho had a week of it. Gout did not sweeten my temper. It was washing week, and she had to attend the shop. God bless her, and reward her. She is good; good in heart, good in principle, good by habit.”

The children appear to have been the delight of his heart. He called them “Sanchonettas,” which would be the Italian way of saying Little Sanchos. He was never tired of describing their little winning ways. At the end of a letter to one of his friends he wrote: “Lydia trots about amazingly; and Kitty imitates her, with this addition, that she is as mischievous as a monkey.” But little William, his youngest, was evidently his pet. To another of his friends he wrote: “You cannot imagine what hold little Billy gets of me. He grows, he prattles, every day he learns something new. The rogue is fond of me to excess. By his good-will he would be always in the shop with me. The little monkey! He clings round my legs; and if I chide him, or look sour, he holds up his little mouth to kiss me.”

Ignatius Sancho had a very kind heart. It hurt his feelings very much to see any animal tormented. He tried to get some laws passed to prevent cruel market-men from abusing their donkeys; and he always tried to be a friend to everybody that was in distress. In one of his letters he says: “The joy of giving and of making happy is almost the attribute of a god. There is as much sweetness conveyed to the senses by doing a right good-natured deed as our frame can consistently bear.”

Such a disposition is better than a remarkable intellect. But he had a quick intellect also, and generally took sensible views of things. Writing to a young colored friend, who had been somewhat wild, he says:—

“Look round upon the miserable fate of almost all of our unfortunate color. See slavery added to ignorance. See the contempt of the very wretches who roll in affluence from our labors. Hear the ill-bred, heart-racking abuse of the ignorant vulgar. If you tread as cautiously as the strictest rectitude can guide you, you must suffer from this. But if you are armed with truth and conscious integrity, you will be sure of the plaudits and countenance of the good.

“You are a happy lad. You have kind benefactors, to whom you ought to look up with reverence, and humbly beg the Almighty to give you strength to imitate them in doing good. Your parts are as quick as most men’s. If you urge your speed in the race of virtue with the same zeal you have exhibited in error, you will recover, to the satisfaction of your noble patrons, and to the glory of yourself.

“Some philosopher, whose name I forget, wished for a window in his breast, that the world might see his heart. I recommend him to your imitation. Vice is a coward. To be truly brave, a man must be truly good. You hate the name of cowardice; then detest a lie and shun liars. Be above revenge. If others have taken advantage either of your guilt or your distress, punish them only with forgiveness; and if you can serve them at any future time, do it.

“I sincerely congratulate thee upon thy repentance. It is thy birthday to real happiness.”

To one of the white gentlemen who liked to correspond with him, he wrote:—

“There is something so amazingly grand and affecting in contemplating the works of the Divine Architect, either in the moral or the intellectual world, that I think one may rightly call it the cordial of the soul, the best antidote against pride and discontent. The friendly warmth of that glorious planet the sun, the leniency of the air, the cheerful glow of the atmosphere, make me involuntarily cry, ‘Lord, what is man, that thou, in thy mercy, art so mindful of him? or what is the son of man, that thou so parentally carest for him?’

“Sometimes, when I endeavor to turn my thoughts inward, to review the powers or properties the indulgent all-wise Father has endowed me with, I am struck with wonder and with awe; poor, insignificant worm as I am, in comparison with superior beings, mortal like myself. At the head of our riches I reckon the power of reflection. Where doth it lie? Search every member, from the toe to the nose,—they are all ready for action, but they are all dead to thought. It is that breath of life which the Sacred Architect breathed into the nostrils of the first man. We feel and acknowledge it, but it is quite past the power of definition. Then to think of the promise of never-ending existence! To rise, perhaps, by regular progression from planet to planet, to behold the wonders of immensity, to pass from good to better, increasing in goodness, in knowledge, in love. To glory in our Redeemer, to joy in ourselves, to be acquainted with prophets, sages, heroes, and poets of old times, and to join in the symphony with angels.”

To a white young friend, who had obtained a situation in India, he wrote:—

“It is with sincere pleasure I hear you have a lucrative establishment. Your good sense will naturally lead you to a proper economy, as distant from frigid parsimony as from heedless extravagance. As you may have some time for recreation, give me leave to obtrude my poor advice. I have heard it more than once observed of fortunate adventurers, that they come home rich in purse, but wretchedly barren in intellect. My dear Jack, the mind wants food as well as the stomach. Why, then, should not one wish to increase in knowledge as well as in money? The poet Young says,—

‘Books are fair Virtue’s advocates and friends.’

My advice to you is, to lay by something every year to buy a little library. You have to thank God for strong natural parts; you have a feeling, humane heart; you write with sense and discernment. Improve yourself, my dear Jack. Then if it should please God to return you to your friends with a fortune, the embellishments of your mind may be ever considered as greatly superior to your riches, and only inferior to the goodness of your heart. This is a good old adage: ‘A few books and a few friends, and those well chosen.’”

The same young friend wrote a letter to his father, from Bombay, in India, in which he wrote: “The inhabitants here, who are chiefly blacks, are a set of canting, deceitful people, of whom one must have great caution.”

Ignatius Sancho was always ready to defend the despised and the oppressed, and his sympathy was all the more lively if they were of his own color. He at once wrote to his young friend:—

“In one of your letters to your father, you speak with honest indignation of the treachery and chicanery of the natives of India. My good friend, you should remember from whom they learned those vices. The first visitors from Christian countries found them a simple, harmless people. But the cursed avidity for wealth urged those first visitors, and all the succeeding ones, to such acts of deception and wanton cruelty, that the poor, ignorant natives soon learned their knavish arts, and turned them upon their teachers. As a resident of your country, Old England, I love it. I love it for its freedom. For the many blessings I enjoy in it England shall ever have my warmest wishes, prayers, and blessings. But I must observe, and I say it with reluctance, that the conduct of your country has been uniformly wicked in the East Indies, in the West Indies, and on the coast of Guinea. The grand object of English navigators, and indeed of all the navigators of Christian nations, has been money, money, money. Commerce was meant by the goodness of Deity to diffuse the various goods of the earth into every part; to unite mankind with the blessed bonds of brotherly love and mutual dependence. Enlightened Christians should diffuse the riches of the Gospel of Peace together with the commodities of their respective lands. If commerce were attended with strict honesty and religion for companions, it would be a blessing to every shore it touched at.

“The poor wretched Africans are blessed with a most fertile and luxuriant soil; but they are rendered miserable by what Providence meant for a blessing. The abominable traffic in slaves, and the horrid cruelty and treachery of the petty kings, is encouraged by their Christian customers. They carry them strong liquors, powder, and bad fire-arms to inflame them to madness, and to furnish them with the hellish means of killing and kidnapping. It is a subject that sours my blood. I mention these things to guard my friend from being too hasty in condemning a people who have been made much worse by their Christian visitors.

“Wherever thou residest, make human nature thy study. Whatever may be the religion or the complexion of men, study their hearts. Let simplicity, kindness, and charity be thy guides; and with these, even savages will respect you, while God will bless you.”

The writings of the Rev. Laurence Sterne, who was living in England at that time, were well calculated to inspire humanity toward animals and kindly feelings toward the poor. These writings were very popular, and two of the characters conspicuous in them, called Uncle Toby and Corporal Trim, were great favorites with the public. Ignatius Sancho especially delighted in the writings of Sterne; and in 1776, when he was about forty-seven years old, he addressed a letter to him as follows:—

“Reverend Sir,—It would perhaps look like an insult upon your humanity to apologize for the liberty I am taking. I am one of those people whom the vulgar and illiberal call ‘Negurs.’ The first part of my life was rather unlucky, as I was placed in a family who judged ignorance to be the best and only security for obedience. By unwearied application I got a little reading and writing. Through God’s blessing, the latter part of my life has been truly fortunate, for I have spent it in the service of one of the best families in the kingdom. My chief pleasure has been books. How very much, good sir, am I, among millions, indebted to you for the character of your amiable Uncle Toby! I declare I would walk ten miles, in dog-days, to shake hands with the honest Corporal. Your sermons have touched me to the heart, and I hope have amended it. In your tenth discourse I find this very affecting passage: ‘Consider how great a part of our species, in all ages, down to this, have been trodden under the feet of cruel and capricious tyrants, who would neither hear their cries nor pity their distresses. Consider Slavery, what a bitter draught it is, and how many millions are made to drink of it.’

“I am sure you will forgive me if I beseech you to give some attention to Slavery, as it is practised at this day in the West Indies. That subject, handled in your striking manner, would perhaps ease the yoke of many; but if only of one, what a feast for a benevolent heart! and sure I am, you are an Epicurean in acts of charity. You, who are universally read and as universally admired, could not fail. Dear sir, think that in me you behold the uplifted hands of thousands of my brother Moors. You pathetically observe that grief is eloquent. Figure to yourself their attitudes, hear their supplications, and you cannot refuse.”

Mr. Sterne wrote the following reply:—

“July 27th, 1766.

“There is a strange coincidence, Sancho, in the little events of this world, as well as the great ones. I had been writing a tender tale of the sorrows of a poor, friendless negro girl, and my eyes had scarce done smarting with it, when your letter, in behalf of so many of her brethren and sisters, came to me. But why her brethren or your brethren, Sancho, any more than mine? It is by the finest tints, and the most insensible gradations, that nature descends from the fairest face to the sootiest complexion. At which of these tints are the ties of blood to cease? and how many shades lower in the scale must we descend, ere mercy is to vanish with them?

“It is no uncommon thing, my good Sancho, for one half of the world to use the other half like brutes, and then endeavor to make them so. For my part, I never look Westward, when I am in a pensive mood, without thinking of the burdens our brothers and sisters are there carrying. If I could ease their shoulders from one ounce of them, I declare I would this hour set out upon a pilgrimage to Mecca for their sakes. It casts a sad shade upon the world, that so great a part of it are, and have so long been, bound in chains of darkness and chains of misery. I cannot but respect you and felicitate you, that by so much laudable diligence you have broken the chains of darkness, and that by falling into the hands of so good and merciful a family, you have been rescued by Providence from the chains of misery.

“And so, good-hearted Sancho, adieu. Believe me, I will not forget your letter.

“Yours,

“Laurence Sterne.”

The last sickness of Ignatius Sancho was very painful, but he was tenderly cared for by his good wife. He was fifty-two years old when he died. After his death, a small volume was published, containing a number of his letters, some articles he had written for newspapers, and an engraved likeness of him, which looks very bright and good-natured. The book was published by subscription, in which a large number of the English nobility and some distinguished literary men joined.

EXTRACT FROM THE TENTH PSALM.

“The wicked in his pride doth persecute the poor. He hath said in his heart, God hath forgotten; He hideth his face; He will never see it. Thou hast seen it; for thou beholdest mischief and spite, to requite it with thy hand. The poor committeth himself unto thee; thou art the helper of the fatherless. Lord, thou hast heard the desire of the humble. Thou wilt cause thine ear to hear; thou wilt prepare their heart to judge the fatherless and the oppressed, that the man of the earth may no more oppress.”

PREJUDICE REPROVED.

BY LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY.

God gave to Afric’s sons

A brow of sable dye;

And spread the country of their birth

Beneath a burning sky.

With a cheek of olive He made

The little Hindoo child;

And darkly stained the forest tribes,

That roam our Western wild.

To me He gave a form

Of fairer, whiter clay;

But am I, therefore, in his sight,

Respected more than they?

No;—’tis the hue of deeds and thoughts

He traces in his book;

‘Tis the complexion of the heart

On which He deigns to look.

Not by the tinted cheek,

That fades away so fast,

But by the color of the soul,

We shall be judged at last.

BENJAMIN BANNEKER.

BY L. MARIA CHILD.

This remarkable man was born near the village of Ellicott’s Mills, Baltimore County, Maryland, in 1732. That was one hundred and thirty-three years ago, when there were very few schools and very few books in this country, and when it was not as easy as it now is for even white people to obtain a tolerably good education. His parents were both black, and though they were free, they were too poor to do much for their bright boy. They sent him to a school in the neighborhood, where he learned reading and writing and a little of arithmetic.

His father was a slave at the time of his marriage, but his wife was a free woman; and she was so energetic and industrious, that she soon earned money enough to buy his freedom. Then they worked together, and earned enough to buy a few acres of land, and build a small cabin.

Benjamin was obliged to labor diligently when he was at home from school, but every spare moment he could catch he was ciphering, and planning how to make things. As his parents grew old, he had to work early and late, to support himself and help them. His mother always continued active enough to do the in-door work. When she was seventy years old, if she wanted to catch a chicken she would run it down without appearing to be tired. The place was thinly peopled, and the few neighbors they had took no particular notice of Benjamin, though he had the name of being a bright, industrious lad. His hands worked hard, but his brain was always busy. He was particularly fond of arithmetic, and was always working out sums in his head. He took notice of everything around him, observed how everything was made, and never forgot one word of what he had learned at school. In this way, he came to have more knowledge than most of his white neighbors; and they began to say to one another, “That black Ben is a smart fellow. He can make anything he sets out to; and how much he knows! I wonder where he picked it all up.”

At thirty years old, he made a clock, which proved an excellent timepiece. He had never seen a clock, for nobody in that region had such an article; but he had seen a watch, and it occupied his thoughts very much. It seemed to him such a curious little machine, that he was very desirous to make something like it. The watch was made of gold and silver and steel; but Benjamin Banneker had only wood for material, and the rudest kind of tools to work with. It was a long while before he could make the hand that marked the hours, and the hand that marked the minutes, and the hand that marked the seconds, correspond exactly in their motions; but by perseverance he succeeded at last. He was then about thirty years old. This was the first clock ever made in this country. It kept time exactly, and people began to talk about it as a wonderful thing for a man to do without instruction. After a while, the Ellicott family, who owned the Mills, heard of it, and went to see it. Mr. Elias Ellicott, a merchant in Baltimore, became very much interested in the self-taught machinist. He lent him a number of books, among which were some on astronomy,—a science which treats of the sun, moon, and stars. Banneker was so interested in this new knowledge that he could think of nothing else. He sat up all night to watch the planets, and to make calculations about their motions. Mr. Ellicott went to see him to explain to him how to use some of the tables for calculations contained in the books he had lent him; but he found, to his great surprise, that the earnest student had studied them all out himself, and had no need of help. It was not long before he could calculate when the sun or the moon would be eclipsed, and at what time every star would rise and set. He was never known to make a mistake in any of his astronomical calculations; and he became so exact, that he pointed out two mistakes made by celebrated astronomers in Europe.

In order to pursue his favorite studies without interruption, he sold the land which his parents had left him, and bought an annuity with the money, on which he lived in the little cabin where he was born. He was so temperate and frugal, that he needed very little to support him; and when it was necessary to have more than his annuity, he could always earn something by going out to work. But, as he was no longer seen in the fields late and early, his ignorant white neighbors began to talk against him. They peeped into his cabin and saw him asleep in the daytime. They did not know that he had been awake all night watching the stars, and ciphering out his calculations. In fact, they did not know that the planets moved at all; and if he had told them that he could calculate their movements exactly, they would only have laughed at him. I suppose they felt some ill-will toward him because he was black, and yet knew so much more than they did; and perhaps it excited their envy that the Ellicott family and other educated gentlemen liked to go to his cabin and talk with him about his studies and observations.

But Banneker was wise enough not to enter into any quarrels because they called him a lazy, good-for-nothing fellow. He endeavored to live in such a way that they could not help respecting him. He was always kind and generous, ready to oblige everybody, and not at all inclined to boast of his superiority.

When he was fifty-nine years old, he made an Almanac. It is a very difficult job to calculate all about the changes of the moon, and the rising and ebbing of the tides, and at what time the sun will rise and set every day, all the year round; and it was a much more difficult task then than it is now; because now there is a great improvement in astronomical books and instruments. But notwithstanding Banneker’s limited means and scanty education, he made an excellent Almanac. It was published by Goddard and Angell of Baltimore. In a Preface, they say: “We feel gratified to have an opportunity of presenting to the public, through our press, what must be considered an extraordinary effort of genius,—a complete and accurate Ephemeris for the year 1792, calculated by a sable son of Africa. It has met the approbation of several of the most distinguished astronomers of America; and we hope a philanthropic public will give their support to the work, not only on account of its intrinsic merit, but from a desire to controvert the long-established illiberal prejudice against the blacks.”

This was the first Almanac ever made in this country. It contained much useful information of a general nature, and interesting selections in prose and verse. Before it was printed, Banneker sent a manuscript copy, in his own handwriting, to Thomas Jefferson, then Secretary of State, and afterward President of the United States. After apologizing for the liberty he took in addressing a person whose station was so far above his own, he says:—

“Those of my complexion have long been considered rather brutish than human,—scarcely capable of mental endowments. But, in consequence of the reports that have reached me, I hope I may safely admit that you are measurably friendly and well-disposed toward us. I trust that you agree with me in thinking that one Universal Father hath given being to us all; that He has not only made us all of one flesh, but has also, without partiality, afforded us all the same sensations, and endowed us all with the same faculties; and that, however various we may be in society or religion, however diversified in situation or color, we are all of the same family, and all stand in the same relation to Him. Now, sir, if this is founded in truth, I apprehend you will readily embrace every opportunity to eradicate the absurd and false ideas and opinions which so generally prevail with respect to us.

“Suffer me, sir, to recall to your mind, that when the tyranny of the British crown was exerted to reduce you to servitude, your abhorrence thereof was so excited, that you publicly held forth this true and invaluable doctrine, worthy to be recorded and remembered in all succeeding ages: ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, and that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.’

“Your tender feelings for yourselves engaged you thus to declare. You were then impressed with proper ideas of the great value of Liberty, and the free possession of those blessings to which you were entitled by nature. But, sir, how pitiable it is to reflect that, although you were so fully convinced of the benevolence of the Father of mankind, and of his equal and impartial distribution of those rights and privileges which He had conferred upon them, that you should at the same time counteract his mercies in detaining, by fraud and violence, so numerous a part of my brethren under groaning captivity and cruel oppression; that you should at the same time be found guilty of that most criminal act which you detested in others with respect to yourselves.

“Sir, I freely and most cheerfully acknowledge that I am of the African race; and in that color which is natural to them I am of the deepest dye. But, with a sense of most profound gratitude to the Supreme Ruler of the universe, I confess that I am not under that state of tyrannical thraldom and inhuman captivity to which so many of my brethren are doomed. I have abundantly tasted of those blessings which proceed from that free and unequalled liberty with which you are favored.

“Sir, I suppose your knowledge of the situation of my brethren is too extensive for it to need a recital here. Neither shall I presume to prescribe methods by which they may be relieved, otherwise than by recommending to you and others to wean yourselves from those narrow prejudices you have imbibed with respect to them, and to do as Job proposed to his friends,—’Put your souls in their souls’ stead.’ Thus shall your hearts be enlarged with kindness and benevolence toward them, and you will need neither the direction of myself nor others in what manner to proceed.

“I took up my pen to direct to you, as a present, a copy of an Almanac I have calculated for the succeeding year. I ardently hope that your candor and generosity will plead with you in my behalf. Sympathy and affection for my brethren has caused my enlargement thus far; it was not originally my design.

“The Almanac is the production of my arduous study. I have long had unbounded desires to become acquainted with the secrets of Nature, and I have had to gratify my curiosity herein through my own assiduous application to astronomical study; in which I need not recount to you the many difficulties and disadvantages I have had to encounter. I conclude by subscribing myself, with the most profound respect, your most humble servant,

“B. Banneker.”

To this letter Jefferson made the following reply:—

“Sir,—I thank you sincerely for your letter, and for the Almanac it contained. Nobody wishes more than I do to see such proofs as you exhibit that Nature has given to our black brethren talents equal to those of the other colors of men, and that the appearance of a want of them is owing only to the degraded condition of their existence, both in Africa and America. I can add, with truth, that no one wishes more ardently to see a good system commenced for raising the condition, both of their body and mind, to what it ought to be, as fast as the imbecility of their present existence, and other circumstances which cannot be neglected, will admit. I have taken the liberty of sending your Almanac to Monsieur Condorcet, Secretary of the Academy of Sciences at Paris, and to members of the Philanthropic Society, because I considered it a document to which your whole color had a right, for their justification against the doubts which have been entertained of them. I am, with great esteem, sir, your most obedient servant,

“Thomas Jefferson.”

In 1803, Mr. Jefferson invited the astronomer to visit him at Monticello, but the increasing infirmities of age made it imprudent to undertake the journey. His Almanacs sold well for ten years, and the income, added to his annuity, gave him a very comfortable support; and what was a still greater satisfaction to him was the consciousness of doing something to help the cause of his oppressed people, by proving to the world that Nature had endowed them with good capacities.

After 1802 he found himself too old to calculate any more Almanacs, but as long as he lived he continued to be deeply interested in his various studies.

He was well informed on many other subjects besides arithmetic and astronomy. He was a great reader of history; and he kept a Journal, which shows that he was a close observer of the vegetable world, of the habits of insects, and of the operations of Nature in general. That his busy mind drew inferences from what he observed is evident from the following entry in his Journal:—

“Standing at my door to-day, I heard the discharge of a gun, and in four or five seconds of time the small shots came rattling about me, which plainly demonstrates that the velocity of sound is greater than that of a common bullet.”

After the Constitution of the United States was adopted, in 1789, commissioners were appointed to determine the boundaries of the District of Columbia. They invited Banneker to be present and assist them in running the lines; and he was treated by them with as much respect as if he had been of their own color. His Almanacs were much praised by scientific men, and they often visited him in his humble little cabin. But these attentions never made him pert and vain. He rejoiced in his abilities and acquisitions, because he thought they might help to raise the condition of his oppressed brethren; but he always remained modest and unobtrusive in his manners.

He died in 1804, in the seventy-second year of his age. His friend, Mr. Benjamin H. Ellicott, collected various facts concerning him, which have been published. In a letter on this subject, Mr. Ellicott says: “During the whole of his long life he lived respectably, and was much esteemed by all who became acquainted with him; more especially by those who could fully appreciate his genius and the extent of his acquirements. His mode of life was extremely regular and retired. Having never married, he lived alone, cooking his own victuals and washing his own clothes. He was scarcely ever absent from home, yet there was nothing misanthropic in his character. A gentleman who knew him speaks of him thus: ‘I recollect him well. He was a brave-looking, pleasant man, with something very noble in his appearance. His mind was evidently much engrossed in his calculations, but he was glad to receive the visits we often paid him.’ Another writes: ‘When I was a boy, I became very much interested in him. His manners were those of a perfect gentleman. He was kind, generous, hospitable, humane, dignified, and pleasing. He abounded in information on all the various subjects and incidents of the day, was very modest and unassuming, and delighted in society at his own house. Go there when you would, by day or night, there was constantly in the middle of the floor a large table covered with books and papers. As he was an eminent mathematician, he was constantly in correspondence with other mathematicians in this country, with whom there was an interchange of questions of difficult solution. His head was covered with thick white hair, which gave him a venerable appearance. His dress was uniformly of superfine drab broadcloth, made in the old style of a plain coat with strait collar, a long waistcoat, and a broad-brimmed hat. His color was not jet black, but decidedly negro. In size and personal appearance he bore a strong resemblance to the statue of Benjamin Franklin, at the Library in Philadelphia.’”

The good which Banneker did to the cause of his colored brethren did not cease with his life. When the Abbe Gregoire pleaded for emancipation in France, and when Wilberforce afterward labored for the same cause in England, the abilities and character of the black astronomer were brought forward as an argument against the enslavement of his race; and, from that day to this, the friends of freedom have quoted him everywhere as a proof of the mental capacity of Africans.

“They found them slaves! but who that title gave?

The God of Nature never formed a slave!