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# Introduction
[Harriet Beecher] Stowe seemed genuinely impressed, and perhaps
discomfited, by this sinewy African-American woman in Quaker dress.
She noted Sojourner's imperious carriage, extreme height, and large,
sparkling eyes. "I do not recollect ever to have been conversant
with anyone who had more of that silent and subtle power which we
call personal presence than this woman," wrote Stowe. She added that
the "self-possessed" Sojourner was perfectly "at her ease,"
displaying "an unconscious superiority" mixed with humor as she
looked down upon the renowned author.
Perhaps the most ruthless contradiction in interpreting Dutch slavery
as mild or paternalistic relates to emancipation. Before 1785,
slaveholders freeing slaves posted 200 pounds security against slave
dependency on the community. After this law was changed, some
masters freed slaves past their prime but not yet fifty as a means of
avoiding their care during illness or old age. Such a fate awaited
Isabella's parents. The forests of Ulster County housed many
elderly, infirm former slaves dependent on goodwill in inclement
weather and the sun's warmth in fair seasons. Rather than care for
"worn out" slaves, Dutch slave masters, like Southern planters, put
them out "to pasture," like so many cattle.
As mentioned earlier, for Sojourner, naming was a truly symbolic act
fraught with timeless meaning. She named herself twice, and each
change was a special self-interpretation in her creating of her own
identity.
Knowing what fate awaited the young Isabelle and her brother, [their
mother] Elizabeth prepared them spiritually by imparting beliefs that
encouraged optimism and a reason for being. The out-of-doors was
their temple. "Under the sparkling vault of heaven," Elizabeth
taught her children "there is a God, who hears and sees you..." She
taught them to call upon God for help "when you are beaten, or
cruelly treated, or fall into any trouble."
The connection between literacy and freedom was not lost on
slaveholders, which is why most Southern states forbade reading and
writing among bondspeople.
But not all narratives were authored by literate blacks. It is
important to remember that for African-Americans who professed a
spiritual calling, extraliterary forms were a more meaningful
aesthetic vehicle and a source of power outside the prejudices of the
patriarchal order. Furthermore, nonliterary visual and oral
expression tied spiritual narratives closer to traditional African
aesthetic practices and represented more authentically the collective
antebellum black experience and voice--that of a people socially and
politically marginalized, almost completely excluded from both formal
and informal educational structure.
Her mother's mysticism did not come from an institutional church.
Taking her children out at night to commune with the stars, moon, and
a god was not taught Elizabeth by the Dutch Reformed Church. These
customs were undoubtedly vestiges of African ontology.
Books did not speak to Sojourner Truth. As she said on more than one
occasion, "You read books, I talk to God."
Broken pieces of white pottery found on graves in the South and pipes
coming out of graves in the North belonged to funerary rites
symbolizing the flight of the spirit from the body. The shells,
glass, and other objects reflecting light found on these graves
express the flash of the spirit separating from the human form and
traveling to the sacred world where all is light and brilliance. [I
have seen a grave in Eugene, Oregon decorated with shells and glass.]
Speaking of her determination to regain her son Peter, she exclaimed,
"Oh my God! I know'd I'd have him again. Why, I felt so tall
WITHIN--I felt as if the power of a nation was with me."
What a prophetic statement for Sojourner Truth to make in 1850! She
was not yet a famous lecturer but was merely attempting to tell her
story to support herself and assist the abolitionist cause. Yet the
majesty, vitality, and endurance she summoned in standing up for her
rights as a free woman were later reflected in her work as a social
reformer, counselor of freepeople, and sponsor of a black movement to
the west. Through her will, her faith, and her love, she indeed
possessed "the power of a nation."
In 1858, Sojourner Truth faced proslavery hecklers and unabashedly
proved that she was indeed a woman. Men in the audience expressed
doubt about her sex and demanded that "Sojourner submit her breast to
the inspection of some of the ladies present." The women were
"ashamed and indignant at such a proposition." But "Sojourner
exposed her naked breasts" and said that she had "suckled many a
white babe, to the exclusion of her own." The shame, said Sojourner,
was not hers but theirs. As Harryette Mullen points out, Sojourner's
defiance was empowering both for her and her embarrassed white
sisters. She not only denied "social propriety its oppressive power
to define, limit, or regulate" but also scoffed at "the conventions
of femininity." Above all, she assumed a heroic, superior posture
over both the white women and the men.
# The Narrative
# Slaveholder's Promises
After emancipation had been decreed by the State, some years before
the time fixed for its consummation, Isabella's master told her if
she would do well, and be faithful, he would give her 'free papers,'
one year before she was legally free by statute. In the year 1826,
she had a badly diseased hand, which greatly diminished her
usefulness; but on the arrival of July 4, 1827, the time specified
for her receiving her 'free papers,' she claimed the fulfillment of
her master's promise; but he refused granting it, on account (as he
alleged) of the loss he had sustained by her hand. She plead that she
had worked all the time, and done many things she was not wholly able
to do, although she knew she had been less useful than formerly; but
her master remained inflexible. Her very faithfulness probably
operated against her now, and he found it less easy than he thought
to give up the profits of his faithful Bell, who had so long done him
efficient service.
But Isabella inwardly determined that she would remain quietly with
him only until she had spun his wool–about one hundred pounds–and
then she would leave him, taking the rest of the time to herself.
'Ah!' she says, with emphasis that cannot be written, 'the
slaveholders are TERRIBLE for promising to give you this or that, or
such and such a privilege, if you will do thus and so; and when the
time of fulfillment comes, and one claims the promise, they,
forsooth, recollect nothing of the kind: and you are, like as not,
taunted with being a LIAR; or, at best, the slave is accused of not
having performed his part or condition of the contract.'
'Oh!' said she, 'I have felt as if I could not live through the
operation sometimes. Just think of us! so eager for our pleasures,
and just foolish enough to keep feeding and feeding ourselves up with
the idea that we should get what had been thus fairly promised; and
when we think it is almost in our hands, find ourselves flatly
denied! Just think! how could we bear it? Why, there was Charles
Brodhead promised his slave Ned, that when harvesting was over, he
might go and see his wife, who lived some twenty or thirty miles off.
So Ned worked early and late, and as soon as the harvest was all in,
he claimed the promised boon. His master said, he had merely told
him he 'would see if he could go, when the harvest was over; but now
he saw that he could not go.' But Ned, who still claimed a positive
promise, on which he had fully depended, went on cleaning his shoes.
His master asked him if he intended going, and on his replying 'yes,'
took up a sled-stick that lay near him, and gave him such a blow on
the head as broke his skull, killing him dead on the spot. [Yet no
official notice was taken of his more than brutal murder.]
# Her Escape
When her master saw her, he said, 'Well, Bell, so you've run away
from me.' 'No, I did not run away; I walked away by day-light, and
all because you had promised me a year of my time.' His reply was,
'You must go back with me.' Her decisive answer was, 'No, I won't go
back with you.' He said, 'Well, I shall take the child.' This also
was as stoutly negatived.
Mr. Isaac S. Van Wagener then interposed, saying, he had never been
in the practice of buying and selling slaves; he did not believe in
slavery; but, rather than have Isabella taken back by force, he would
buy her services for the balance of the year–for which her master
charged twenty dollars, and five in addition for the child. The sum
was paid, and her master Dumont departed; but not till he had heard
Mr. Van Wagener tell her not to call him master–adding, 'there is
but one master; and he who is your master is my master.'
# It Is Often Darkest Just Before Dawn
Soon after [the illegal sale of her son], which had harrowed up her
very soul to agony, she met a man, who evidently sympathized with
her, and counseled her to go to the Quakers, telling her they were
already feeling very indignant at the fraudulent sale of her son, and
assuring her that they would readily assist her, and direct her what
to do. He pointed out to her two houses, where lived some of those
people, who formerly, more than any other sect, perhaps, lived out
the principles of the gospel of Christ.
# Isabella's Religious Experience
We will now turn from the outward and temporal to the inward and
spiritual life of our subject. It is ever both interesting and
instructive to trace the exercises of a human mind, through the
trials and mysteries of life; and especially a naturally powerful
mind, left as hers was almost entirely to its own workings, and the
chance influences it met on its way; and especially to note its
reception of that divine 'light, that lighteth every man that cometh
into the world.'
The place she selected, in which to offer up her daily orisons, was a
small island in a small stream, covered with large willow shrubbery,
beneath which the sheep had made their pleasant winding paths; and
sheltering themselves from the scorching rays of a noon-tide sun,
luxuriated in the cool shadows of the graceful willows, as they
listened to the tiny falls of the silver waters. It was a lonely
spot, and chosen by her for its beauty, its retirement, and because
she thought that there, in the noise of those waters, she could speak
louder to God, without being overheard by any who might pass that way.
But, ere she reached the vehicle, she says that God revealed himself
to her, with all the suddenness of a flash of lightning, showing her,
'in the twinkling of an eye, that he was all over'–that he pervaded
the universe–'and that there was no place where God was not.' She
became instantly conscious of her great sin in forgetting her
almighty Friend and 'ever-present help in time of trouble.' All her
unfulfilled promises arose before her, like a vexed sea whose waves
run mountains high; and her soul, which seemed but one mass of lies,
shrunk back aghast from the 'awful look' of him whom she had formerly
talked to, as if he had been a being like herself; and she would now
fain have hid herself in the bowels of the earth, to have escaped his
dread presence. But she plainly saw there was no place, not even in
hell, where he was not; and where could she flee? Another such 'a
look,' as she expressed it, and she felt that she must be
extinguished forever, even as one, with the breath of his mouth,
'blows out a lamp,' so that no spark remains.
A dire dread of annihilation now seized her, and she waited to see
if, by 'another look,' she was to be stricken from
existence,–swallowed up, even as the fire licketh up the oil with
which it comes in contact.
When at last the second look came not, and her attention was once
more called to outward things, she observed her master had left, and
exclaiming aloud, 'Oh, God, I did not know you were so big,' walked
into the house, and made an effort to resume her work. But the
workings of the inward man were too absorbing to admit of much
attention to her avocations. She desired to talk to God, but her
vileness utterly forbade it, and she was not able to prefer a
petition. 'What!' said she, 'shall I lie again to God? I have told
him nothing but lies; and shall I speak again, and tell another lie
to God?' She could not; and now she began to wish for some one to
speak to God for her. Then a space seemed opening between her and
God, and she felt that if some one, who was worthy in the sight of
heaven, would but plead for her in their own name, and not let God
know it came from her, who was so unworthy, God might grant it. At
length a friend appeared to stand between herself and an insulted
Deity; and she felt as sensibly refreshed as when, on a hot day, an
umbrella had been interposed between her scorching head and a burning
sun.
'Who are you?' she exclaimed, as the vision brightened into a form
distinct, beaming with the beauty of holiness, and radiant with love.
She then said, audibly addressing the mysterious visitant–'I know
you, and I don't know you.' Meaning, 'You seem perfectly familiar; I
feel that you not only love me, but that you always have loved
me–yet I know you not–I cannot call you by name.' When she said,
'I know you,' the subject of the vision remained distinct and quiet.
When she said, 'I don't know you,' it moved restlessly about, like
agitated waters. So while she repeated, without intermission, 'I know
you, I know you,' that the vision might remain–'Who are you?' was
the cry of her heart, and her whole soul was in one deep prayer that
this heavenly personage might be revealed to her, and remain with
her. At length, after bending both soul and body with the intensity
of this desire, till breath and strength seemed failing, and she
could maintain her position no longer, an answer came to her, saying
distinctly, 'It is Jesus.' 'Yes,' she responded, 'it is Jesus.'
Previous to these exercises of mind, she heard Jesus mentioned in
reading or speaking, but had received from what she heard no
impression that he was any other than an eminent man, like a
Washington or a Lafayette. Now he appeared to her delighted mental
vision as so mild, so good, and so every way lovely, and he loved her
so much! And, how strange that he had always loved her, and she had
never known it! And how great a blessing he conferred, in that he
should stand between her and God! And God was no longer a terror and
a dread to her.
But when she was simply told, that the Christian world was much
divided on the subject of Christ's nature–some believing him to be
coequal with the Father–to be God in and of himself, 'very God, of
very God;'–some, that he is the 'well-beloved,' 'only begotten Son
of God;'–and others, that he is, or was, rather, but a mere
man–she said, 'Of that I only know as I saw. I did not see him to
be God; else, how could he stand between me and God? I saw him as a
friend, standing between me and God, through whom, love flowed as
from a fountain.' Now, so far from expressing her views of Christ's
character and office in accordance with any system of theology
extant, she says she believes Jesus is the same spirit that was in
our first parents, Adam and Eve, in the beginning, when they came
from the hand of their Creator. When they sinned through
disobedience, this pure spirit forsook them, and fled to heaven; that
there it remained, until it returned again in the person of Jesus;
and that, previous to a personal union with him, man is but a brute,
possessing only the spirit of an animal.
# Gleanings
Many slaveholders boast of the love of their slaves. How it would
freeze the blood of some of them to know what kind of love rankles in
the bosoms of slaves for them!
# The Cause Of Her Leaving The City
After turning it in her mind for some time, she came to the
conclusion, that she had been taking part in a great drama, which
was, in itself, but one great system of robbery and wrong. "Yes,"
she said, "the rich rob the poor, and the poor rob one another." ...
These reflections and convictions gave rise to a sudden revulsion of
feeling in the heart of Isabelle, and she began to look upon money
and property with great indifference, if not contempt--being at the
same time unable, probably, to discern any difference between a
miserly grasping at and hoarding of money and means, and a true use
of the good things of this life for one's own comfort, and the relief
of such as she might be enabled to befriend and assist.
Wherever night overtook her, there she sought for lodgings--free, if
she might--if not, she paid; at a tavern, if she chanced to be at
one--if not, at a private dwelling; with the rich, if they would
receive her--if not, with the poor.
But she soon discovered that the largest houses were nearly always
full; if not quite full, company was soon expected; and that it was
much easier to find an unoccupied corner in a small house than in a
large one; and if a person possessed but a miserable roof over his
head, you might be sure of a welcome to part of it.
She said, "she never could find out that the rich had any religion.
If I had been rich and accomplished, I could; for the rich could
always find religion in the rich, but I could find it among the poor."
# Some Of Her Views And Reasoning
But the moment she placed this idea of God by the side of the
impression she had once so suddenly received of his inconceivable
greatness and entire spirituality, that moment she exclaimed
mentally, 'No, God does not stop to rest, for he is a spirit, and
cannot tire; he cannot want for light, for he hath all light in
himself. And if "God is all in all," and "worketh all in all," as I
have heard them read, then it is impossible he should rest at all;
for if he did, every other thing would stop and rest too; the waters
would not flow, and the fishes could not swim; and all motion must
cease. God could have no pauses in his work, and he needed no
Sabbaths of rest. Man might need them, and he should take them when
he needed them, whenever he required rest. As it regarded the
worship of God, he was to be worshiped at all times and in all
places; and one portion of time never seemed to her more holy than
another.'
I had forgotten to mention, in its proper place, a very important
fact, that when she was examining the Scriptures, she wished to hear
them without comment; but if she employed adult persons to read them
to her, and she asked them to read a passage over again, they
invariably commenced to explain, by giving her their version of it;
and in this way, they tried her feelings exceedingly. In consequence
of this, she ceased to ask adult persons to read the Bible to her,
and substituted children in their stead. Children, as soon as they
could read distinctly, would re-read the same sentence to her, as
often as she wished, and without comment; and in that way she was
enabled to see what her own mind could make out of the record, and
that, she said, was what she wanted, and not what others thought it
to mean. She wished to compare the teachings of the Bible with the
witness within her; and she came to the conclusion, that the spirit
of truth spoke in those records, but that the recorders of those
truths had intermingled with them ideas and suppositions of their
own. This is one among the many proofs of her energy and
independence of character.
# The Second Advent Doctrines
Sometimes, to their eager inquiry, 'Oh, don't you believe the Lord is
coming?' she answered, 'I believe the Lord is as near as he can be,
and not be it.'
'As we were walking the other day, she said she had often thought
what a beautiful world this would be, when we should see every thing
right side up. Now, we see every thing topsy-turvy, and all is
confusion.'
# Her Last Interview With Her Master
In the spring of 1849, Sojourner made a visit to her eldest daughter,
Diana, who has ever suffered from ill health, and remained with Mr.
Dumont, Isabella's humane master. She found him still living, though
advanced in age, and reduced in property, (as he had been for a
number of years,) but greatly enlightened on the subject of slavery.
He said he could then see that 'slavery was the wickedest thing in
the world, the greatest curse the earth had ever felt–that it was
then very clear to his mind that it was so, though, while he was a
slaveholder himself, he did not see it so, and thought it was as
right as holding any other property.' Sojourner remarked to him, that
it might be the same with those who are now slaveholders. 'O, no,'
replied he, with warmth, 'it cannot be. For, now, the sin of slavery
is so clearly written out, and so much talked against,–(why, the
whole world cries out against it!)–that if any one says he don't
know, and has not heard, he must, I think, be a liar. In my
slaveholding days, there were few that spoke against it, and these
few made little impression on any one. Had it been as it is now,
think you I could have held slaves? No! I should not have dared to do
it, but should have emancipated every one of them. Now, it is very
different; all may hear if they will.'
She recalled the lectures he used to give his slaves, on speaking the
truth and being honest, and laughing, she says he taught us not to
lie and steal, when he was stealing all the time himself, and did not
know it! Oh! how sweet to my mind was this confession! And what a
confession for a master to make to a slave! A slaveholding master
turned to a brother! Poor old man, may the Lord bless him, and all
slave-holders partake of his spirit!
[I find this confession thought-provoking. It implies that the
slaveholding individuals did not change, only their circumstances
changed. This implies the possibility that as individuals, we
ourselves are not so different from the people who were slaveholders.]
author: Truth, Sojourner, 1797-1883 |