Chapter I: Part 1

_Margaret Douglass_]

EDUCATIONAL LAWS OF VIRGINIA.

THE

PERSONAL NARRATIVE

OF

Mrs. Margaret Douglass,

A SOUTHERN WOMAN,

WHO WAS IMPRISONED FOR ONE MONTH

IN THE

COMMON JAIL OF NORFOLK,

UNDER THE LAWS OF VIRGINIA,

FOR THE CRIME OF

TEACHING FREE COLORED CHILDREN TO READ.

“Search the Scriptures!”
“How can one read unless he be taught?”

HOLY BIBLE.

BOSTON:
PUBLISHED BY JOHN P. JEWETT & CO.
CLEVELAND, OHIO:
JEWETT, PROCTOR & WORTHINGTON.

1854.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1854, by

MARGARET DOUGLASS,

in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for
the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.

NARRATIVE &c.

I am perfectly aware that the public cannot be interested in my personal history previous to the occurrences which this narrative is designed to lay before them, nor am I vain enough to suppose that there would be any thing in it worth relating. It will, however, be seen necessary that I should state who and what I was, and under what circumstances I found myself suddenly placed, by the authorities of the city of Norfolk, in a position of such unenviable notoriety. This position was not one of my own seeking, nor was I the agent or representative of any association. I was not a “Northern emissary,” engaged in undermining the institutions of the South, and recklessly defying her laws, but only a weak and helpless woman, endeavoring to do what I deemed my duty to God and to humanity. In order to relate the circumstances as they occurred, so that they may be fully understood, my narrative must necessarily assume a personal character, for it was I, and I alone, who was contending for a heaven-born principle against not only the authorities of Norfolk, but against the united strength of the whole State of Virginia. The entire population of the commonwealth that claims to be the first and noblest in the land were the plaintiffs in this case, I, alone, the defendant. My story therefore must not be called egotistical.

It is necessary also that I refer to myself, in order to do away with any impression that I was or am an _Abolitionist_, as that term is usually understood at the South, for I am aware that a strong effort will be made to induce this belief on the part of the community, in order to weaken the effect which I hope my book is destined to produce. I deem it proper, then, to state at the outset that such is not the case, and that I was not contending against any of the Southern institutions, but only against a particular law of the State of Virginia, and of, as I believe, some of the neighboring States. Against the operations of this law, a large portion of even the inhabitants of Virginia are beginning to rebel, as contrary, not only to good morals, but to the spirit of our country’s institutions. This law, although connected with slavery as a Southern institution, has not necessarily anything to do with the abstract question of slavery itself. It is one that might exist in a free State, though, happily it does not. It is a law whose influence is felt, not only among the slave population of Virginia, but which extends even to the whites themselves. By a recent statement made to the Legislature of Virginia, the number of grown up white men and women in the State is estimated at nine hundred thousand, and of this number there are no-less than eighty thousand who can neither read nor write. The law, in concise terms, prohibits the instruction of all colored persons, by means of books or printed papers, but it does not prevent the giving of verbal or oral instruction even to slaves. In some of the Southern States a similar law exists in reference only to the slave population, but I was not aware until my arrest, that the law of Virginia was more stringent, and included in its operation the free colored people as well as the slaves. Had I known this, and had I not the constant example before me of those whom I supposed were well informed as to this matter, I should not have dared to set myself up in opposition to the laws of a State of which I was a resident.

I repeat, therefore, most emphatically, that I was not an Abolitionist, and that no person or persons had anything to do with the course I pursued, in even the most indirect manner. I am a Southern woman, by birth, education, and principles. I have been a slaveholder myself, and, if circumstances rendered it necessary or practicable, I might be such again. With the abstract question of slavery I have nothing to do in this book. I write it as a Southern woman to the people of the South. I am and always have been one of them, and still possess the same attachment for them and their institutions, that was first instilled into me in my childhood, and which has grown stronger during my whole life among them.

I was born in the city of Washington, but removed at a very early age to Charleston, South Carolina; where I was subsequently married, and resided, until the year 1845, when the painful associations connected with the death of my only son induced me to remove to Norfolk, Virginia, where I led a quiet and unobtrusive life, with my only daughter, until the month of December, 1853. Having been thrown upon my own resources, and possessed of a too independent spirit to be a burden to those who might have assisted me, I supported myself and child by the labor of my hands; my business being that of vest-making. Being a superior workwoman, I always had an abundance of the best work to do; but it was necessary for me to labor incessantly, in order to maintain myself and daughter respectably. Being blessed with good health, I was enabled to do this. We lived alone, in a retired part of the city, and our circle of acquaintances, from choice, not from necessity, was rather limited. Our habits were industrious, frugal and retiring. We were respected, and led lives that were irreproachable, as was abundantly conceded by even the Judge before whom I was tried. Our only association with society was that into which we were led by the exercise of our feelings of humanity; it being our natural disposition to share the little goods we possessed with those who were in want or affliction of any sort. We now enjoy the happy satisfaction of knowing that we have left behind us, many grateful hearts, in those whose distress we have relieved, or with whose sorrows we have sympathized.

This brief history of myself and my antecedents, seemed necessary, in order to show who and what I was, and to effectually put down the assertions of some of the Southern editors, that I was an Abolitionist in disguise, or, at least, was acting at the instigation of those who are enemies to the South and her institutions. I shall now proceed to relate, as succinctly as possible, the history of my personal contest with the great and dignified State of Virginia, as represented in the persons of a few men in power in the honorable city of Norfolk.

Being perfectly satisfied with my daughter’s society, I craved no other, and endeavored to practice the precepts which I wished to instil into her mind, and, as she grew older, we went on hand in hand in our little benevolent duties, making allowances for the faults of others, practicing mercy and charity to all who came in our way, both black and white; and, as I am a strong advocate for the religious instruction of the whole human family, it fell to our lot to become the religious and moral instructors of a few little colored free children.

There is a well known barber living in the city of Norfolk, a genteel and respectable colored man, much respected in that community. Having some business with him, I one day called at his shop, into which he politely invited me. Casting my eyes around, they fell upon two little colored boys, with spelling books in their hands, which they appeared to be very attentively engaged in studying. I inquired if they were his children, and if they went to school. His reply was, that they were his, but that they did not go to school, though he was very anxious to have them learn. I then inquired if there were no day schools for free colored children. He smiled, and said, No, madam; and he believed that there was no one who took interest enough in little colored children to keep a day school for them. I replied, that this was a pity, but that there was certainly a large Sunday school connected with Christ’s Church, to which he might send his children. His answer was, that his children did attend that school, but that they did not learn much; as they had no one to assist them in their lessons during the week; that he kept them at their books, whenever they had any spare time, and that they would occasionally pick up a little instruction from those who visited his shop. I inquired if he had any education himself. He said no, but that he indeed felt the want of it, and was very thankful to any one who would take the trouble to instruct his children. I then found that he had five children, three of whom were little girls, and that they were all very anxious to learn. Without further consideration or hesitation, I then offered to allow my daughter to teach his little boys, stating that she would do so with great pleasure. I told him to send them every day to my house, and that it need not detain them long from his business. He thanked me very kindly, and said that he would send them, although their time was very valuable to him, as they were obliged to wait upon the gentlemen who visited his shop. His eagerness for the instruction of his children deeply interested me, and, on my return home, I related the circumstance to my daughter, who readily assented to my proposal. Having no further business with this man, I saw no more of him, and had nearly forgotten the occurrence, until he called at my house with his little girls. I received him politely, and spoke kindly to his children, who were neatly dressed, and very respectful, and appeared unusually intelligent. Their father then said, “Mrs. Douglass, I have told my little girls of your kind offer to instruct their brothers, and they are also very anxious to learn, and I wish to know if you would not prefer to have these two eldest, thinking that the boys might give your daughter too much trouble.” I replied that it would be no trouble, but a pleasure to us, and that he might send both the boys and girls regularly every day, and that we would do all we could for their religious and moral instruction. I then inquired if they had any books. He replied, only such as had been given them at Christ Church Sunday school. “Very well,” said I, “give them those books, and send them to-morrow.” I felt certain that there could be nothing wrong in doing during the week what was done on Sunday by the teachers in that school, who were members of some of the first families in Norfolk, nor in using the very books that were given to the children there taught. I was particular also to ascertain that both himself and family were free, as I knew that the laws of the Southern states did not permit the slaves to be educated, although at the same time, all the churches in Norfolk were actually instructing from books both slave and free colored children, and had done so for years without molestation.

On the day following the two little girls made their appearance alone, their father being unable to spare their brothers from his business. My daughter received her little scholars kindly, and endeavored to make them feel as comfortably as strange children can feel in a strange house. At this time I lived in a neat little house, containing four rooms, situated in a quiet and respectable neighbourhood, with everything genteel and comfortable around us, gathered together by our own industry. In this house I had lived nearly four years. It was alone, and I had engaged it before it was finished, thinking it would form a quiet and retired home for myself and daughter. Whether it proved to be such or not, my readers will see. Nearly the whole block was built up with small tenements, and I soon found that my neighbors were not of the most refined class, and would prove no associates for us. I therefore determined to live very secluded, and be seldom seen or heard. Still, I endeavored to be kind and obliging to all who stood in need of my sympathies, and made it my business, if any of them were sick or in trouble, to administer to their wants by sending nourishment, or, if necessary, by calling to see them in person; still receiving none as visitors at my house; for they were a class of people with little or no education, and, of course, refinement they knew nothing of. They did not appreciate my character and habits, and could not understand my retired way of living, and at times we were greatly annoyed by them. This I could not at first understand, as I knew I did not merit any unkindness from them, but I endeavored to bear my persecutions with patience, and continued to live in my own solitary way, my daughter attending to our little domestic affairs, and I steadily employed with my needle.

The two little girls continued to come every day, and were well behaved and very obedient. They soon became indeed, a source of pleasure to us. They were very attentive to their studies, and with my daughter’s unremitting attention, they made rapid progress. They were with us nearly a month, when my daughter remarked to me, that she would be very sorry to part with them, as they learned very fast, and every day required more of her attention, and she feared that they would interfere with her other duties. Now, up to this time, I had not anticipated receiving any compensation for the tuition of those children, nor had I dreamed of establishing a regular school. What I had done had been merely from the impulses of common humanity, without a thought of reward. I casually asked my daughter which she would prefer, to teach those children, or assist me in sewing; and if she would be willing to take charge of a small class of free colored children. She replied that she was fond of children, and would be glad to teach them if she could establish a class. “Very well,” I said, “you shall do so: we will open a school on the first of next month, (which was June, 1852,) for free colored children.” I thereupon sent word to Mr. Robinson, the father of the two little girls, notifying him of our intention, and stating that he might send us all the scholars that he could, and that the price of tuition would be three dollars per quarter. We were at once overrun with applications, and our little school was soon formed and well regulated, the children punctual in their attendance, and under good discipline. My daughter paid strict attention to them, and they made rapid progress in their studies. Our school numbered twenty-five pupils, of both sexes, and continued in prosperous existence about eleven months. We made no secret of the matter, and never intended to do so, nor could we, had we desired to ever so much.

My readers will therefore perceive, that the formation of our little school arose from a circumstance entirely accidental, I having at first offered simply to teach two or three colored children their Sunday school lessons; they being members of Christ’s Church Sunday school; and from the very books given to them by the ladies and gentlemen engaged in that school. Finding those children obedient and well behaved, as well as anxious to be taught, I became deeply interested in their welfare, and continued from time to time to receive all who offered themselves as pupils. Living a life so retired, I needed an occupation involving some care, and was glad to be engaged in a duty so benevolent. We attended strictly to their moral and religious instruction, and, when they were sick, we promptly visited them, and administered to their wants, and, I am indeed happy to say, although I was afterwards cruelly cast into prison and otherwise unjustly dealt with, I have the satisfaction of knowing that I suffered in a good and righteous cause. I was totally ignorant of any existing law prohibiting the instruction of free colored children, but, at the same time, I was careful to have no slaves among our scholars. Every thing passed on quietly for several months, in the ordinary routine of a child’s school, with nothing to interest my readers particularly, unless it be one incident which will never be forgotten by us, viz: the death of one of our little scholars, the circumstances of which I will here take the liberty to relate.

She was about fourteen years of age, and, while at school, she was mild, humble and obedient, and studied very hard. Her form was slender and her constitution very delicate. I frequently thought that her close application to her books would injure her health, though she seemed predestined to an early grave. She was at length taken seriously ill, and we visited her as frequently as our engagements would permit. Will my readers go with me into a tottering negro hovel, situated in the very heart of the city of Norfolk? It is a miserable apology for a human habitation, containing but two apartments, one above the other. On one side of the first, or ground floor, is a wretched bed, supported by some boards and broken chairs, and on it lies one of Mrs. Douglass’s sable scholars, her young life fast ebbing away under the ravages of a rapid consumption. Her mother, poor woman, is little better off, and her hollow cough tells too truly that her own days are numbered. With a constitution naturally delicate, and almost worn out by constant watching, she is unable to earn anything to add to her little stores, or even to obtain the slightest necessary nourishment for her dying child. Here is a scene of suffering, and no one to administer to the wants of the dying or the living. Common humanity calls loudly for the exercise of simple charity, but the cry is unheard.

Quietly and alone, my daughter and myself sat up, night after night, with the suffering child, and endeavored to smooth her pathway to the grave. She seemed far more happy and contented when we were beside her, and we therefore gave to her all the time we could possibly spare. On the night that she died we sat with her until a late hour, and, as we were leaving her, she said, in broken accents;--“I thank you, Mrs. Douglass and Miss Rosa, for all you have done for me: you have taught me to pray and to read my Bible, but I shall never read it again; you must pray for me before you go.” We did so, and left her in a quiet slumber, from which she awoke only, as we trust, in heaven. We took charge of the funeral arrangements, had her poor corpse neatly attired for its last repose, and saw that every thing was done decently and in order. Six of her school mates, selected previously by herself, dressed in white, acted as pall bearers at the funeral, and were followed by the rest of the school, I in a close carriage bringing up the rear of the procession. Yes, I followed to the grave the remains of a poor little negro child, and as this was a stretch of humanity that the good people of Norfolk could neither appreciate nor understand, I suppose I may trace to it the beginning of their future persecutions, which resulted finally in the descent upon my establishment by the officers of the law.

The descent was made on my school on the 9th day of May, 1853, between eight and nine o’clock in the morning, when the children had nearly all assembled. No note of warning had been given of this movement, and it was as unexpected as the sudden upheavings of an earthquake. Our school-room was situated in the second story back room. My daughter had but a few moments before taken her seat at her humble pine table, and was surrounded by her little sable scholars. Sable, did I say? No, not all; for in many cases the difference could scarcely be perceived between them and white children. Yes, Mrs. Douglass “condescended” to teach free black men’s children, and free white men’s children--some of the latter being, very probably, among her real persecutors! It was a horrible crime, was it not?

All was going on as peaceably as usual, and I had taken my seat to commence my daily toil, when a loud knock was made at my front door. I answered it myself, when the face of an officer presented itself, who inquired who lived up stairs. I replied that I alone occupied the house. He then asked if Mrs. Douglass lived there. I told him that I was Mrs. Douglass. He said, “You keep a school.” “Yes, sir,” was my reply. “A school for colored children?” I answered, “yes.” “I must see those children,” said he. I then demanded what business he had with them, or with anything in my house. He replied, that he had been sent by the Mayor. “Very good, sir,” said I, “walk in, and you shall see them;” and, without giving my daughter or the children any notice, I invited him up stairs into the school-room. Never will I forget the frightened state of those children, and the countenance of their young teacher. My daughter sat paralyzed, covering her face with her hands; and it was some time before I could restore order in the room. Some were crying, some exclaiming “Oh my! oh my!” and some clinging around me in their terror; but, during the excitement, I never lost my presence of mind. As soon as I had restored quiet in the room, I inquired of Mr. Cherry, the City Constable, what he wanted with those children. He replied, that he must take them before the Mayor. “Very well, sir,” said I, “my daughter and myself will accompany them.” To my astonishment, he went to the head of the stairs and gave a loud rap with his club, when another officer made his appearance, entering from my back door. For the moment I thought that my house was surrounded with officers, who perhaps fancied that they had found a nest of thieves. They then noted down the names of all the children, as well as those of their parents. When they had finished, I politely informed Mr. Cherry that they were all free children, and all, or nearly all, members of the Christ’s Church Sunday-school. “It makes no difference, madam,” he replied, “it is a violation of the law to teach any person of color to read or write, slave or free, and an act punishable by imprisonment in the penitentiary.” “Very well,” I replied, “if they send me to the penitentiary, it will be in a good cause, and not a disgraceful one.” Even this information, which was the most profound news to me, did not unnerve me at all: for I remembered that our Saviour was persecuted for doing good, and why should not I be. This thought strengthened me to bear my own persecutions for ten long months afterwards.

The officers having left the school room, I politely escorted them down stairs, proffering them seats until I made some alterations in my dress before I accompanied them to the Mayor’s office. I immediately returned to the school room, and found the children in a dreadful state of excitement. I must here inform my readers that all persons of color in the Southern, or Slave States, have a dreadful horror of constables, for it is these officers to whom is entrusted the execution of their punishment for all offences. After I had again brought the children to order, I was ready to accompany the officers. I arranged the children in couples and gave them up to the officers, and we all started for the Mayor’s office, my daughter and myself walking at a little distance in the rear. Will my readers please imagine, for an instant, a crowd of little children, walking two and two, preceded and followed by two stout men, each with a great club in his hands? It reminded me of a flock of little lambs going to the slaughter.

We soon reached the Mayor’s Court, and were seated until his honor was ready for an examination. Many spectators were present to witness the wonderful sight of a sudden descent upon a negro school. I had a casual acquaintance with his honor, Mayor Stubbs, as I had been before reported to him for an act of humanity to a helpless and worthy little woman and her two infant children. I had been made acquainted with her sufferings and miserable situation, and, from time to time, for two years, I had bestowed upon her many acts of kindness and sympathy, as cordially as though she had been my own sister. She had a drunken and worthless husband, who, when in a state of inebriation, was very violent and brutal to her, and who would often leave her for weeks at a time, without a cent, and almost in a state of starvation. At those emergencies she would subsist solely on what she received from my bounty. Finally, her young child, about one year old, was taken very ill. She was a kind and affectionate mother, and grieved much for her little boy. I endeavored to obtain assistance for her in the humane and benevolent city of Norfolk, but in vain. I alone clung to her to the last. She resided at some distance from my house. Her child lay for some weeks in a very critical condition, and I could not do as much for her as I desired to do. At this time her husband was away on one of his drunken carousals in the city, and not even the sufferings of his dying child could soften his brutal heart. I finally concluded to take her and her children into my own house, and made the proposition to her, which she received with much gratitude, and readily assented to. By my advice she soon had her little chattels gathered together and sent them to an auctioneer. The room was soon emptied, and, with her two sick children, she hastened to my house, where, with our united attentions, we succeeded in raising the little sufferer to health. The facts in this case having been reported to Mayor Stubbs, he called in person to see me, and proved himself to be a good man, as he afterwards was a merciful judge. I relate this little circumstance merely to show my first acquaintance with this gentleman.

It was about a year after this occurrence when I entered his court-room with my little school, in obedience to his somewhat pressing invitation, and attended by his two officers as a guard of honor.

I felt certain that he was a man who desired peace in his community, as well as one disposed to temper justice with mercy to all. In about fifteen minutes we were called before him, and the children arranged on one side of the room. He greeted me very cordially with a “Good morning, Mrs. Douglass.” I politely returned his salutation, when he remarked that I had quite a large family. I said yes, and that they were all very good children. “But, are you aware,” he inquired, “that it is a violation of the law of this State to instruct colored children to read?” I replied, that I had not been aware of the existing law until that morning; that these were all free children, and that every one before him was a member of the Christ’s Church Sunday-school; that this school was held at the lecture-room on Freemason street, where primers and other books were given to them to learn to read; and that, if I had violated the law, they had been doing so for years. The Mayor replied that such facts had never been reported to him, or he should have been obliged to do his duty in the matter. A gentleman, who was present, voluntarily asserted that there was a large Sunday-school kept there for colored children, and that he thought a violation of the law was such as much in one place as another. His Honor then took up the statutes of Virginia, and read the law on the subject, which announced the maximum penalty attached to its violation to be a fine of one hundred dollars and imprisonment for six months. He also remarked that he was very sorry the matter had occurred, but that he must do his duty in the premises. I replied, that I expected him to do his duty; but that with a clear conscience I could bear imprisonment, or anything else. I asked him if anything would be done with the children. He said, “Nothing,” and gave immediate orders for their dismissal, when they fled like so many little birds let loose from a cage. I could not refrain from tears as I looked after them as they left the room, and hastened from what was to them a place of exceeding terror. I was rejoiced that no harm would fall upon them, and felt that I could bear anything rather than that they should suffer in any way. I then inquired if anything would be done with their parents, and was answered, “Nothing.” I then asked his Honor if he could allow the whole responsibility of the matter to rest upon myself; that my daughter was not yet of age, and that I was alone responsible for any act of hers, as well as my own. He inquired if I had any friends who would become security for my appearance before the Supreme Court. “Friends!” I replied “I am my own best friend, and my daughter’s only one.” I told him to do his duty, and put me in prison at once, if he chose, for I would ask no favors at the hands of any man. On receiving this reply, he reflected for a moment and then said, “I think that I am allowed some discretion in this matter. You say, Mrs. Douglass, that you were not aware of the existing law?” I replied that I was not, and that I was not disposed to violate the laws of any people or place where I might reside. He then, being perfectly satisfied with my good intentions, frank acknowledgment, and ignorance of the law, dismissed the matter; for which I tendered him my thanks, and left the court room.

Imagine my surprise, when I reached the steps of the courthouse, to find a crowd of colored men, women, and children, the parents and relatives of friends of our little scholars, waiting to learn the decision of the Mayor. They greeted myself and daughter with many blessings, and said that if we had anything to pay they had the money ready for us. I replied that such was not the case, and that there had been no harm done; and after warmly thanking them for their kindness and sympathy, we looked around for our little scholars, gathered as many of them as we could together, and took them back to the school-room, where we gave each of them their books and slates, and, with wounded hearts, took leave of them, one by one. It was a sad parting, and we grieved to think that they must henceforth grow up in darkness and ignorance. For several days it was as much as we could do to receive the visits of the parents and friends of those children, many of whom we had never seen before. They lamented over the breaking up of our little school, and many shed tears freely. They showered their blessings upon us, and prayed for our welfare, and were evidently truly grateful for all we had done for their children.

It is generally thought in the Southern States that the negroes are ungrateful, but I, for one, have never found them so. From the day that I first interested myself in these unfortunate people, to the day I left the city of Norfolk, they literally showered upon us their grateful blessings. In my opinion, those who call the Southern negroes ungrateful, are only those who never do anything to call forth that emotion. I believe the oppressed to be more susceptible of gratitude than any other class. I have ever found them so. May I ask what gratitude do they owe to those who will degrade them? What gratitude does that child owe to his own father, who coldly sells him as his slave? Let us first practice justice and mercy ourselves, and then ask for the gratitude of our slaves.

My scholars having been dismissed, and the school given up, in obedience to the requirements of the law, I felt perfectly satisfied that the matter had there ended. I had promised my daughter, some months before, a visit to New York, during the intended vacation of our school, but the authorities did not allow us the pleasure of thus indulging our scholars, having given them an earlier and much longer vacation than we ever dreamed of.

My daughter left Norfolk on the 29th day of June, for the city of New York, intending to return about the first of September. In her absence I was left entirely alone, without even a servant, and so remained for about six months, seldom going out, and receiving but few visitors, aside from my little scholars who would occasionally come to see me, and bring some little token of their continued affection. They all knew that I was very fond of flowers, and it was seldom that my table did not contain bouquets from their hands. Indeed, they kept me supplied with flowers during the whole summer. I still continued to visit them whenever they were sick, for I knew that no authorities could prevent this. Both I and my friends supposed that the matter was forever ended, until the 13th day of July, when, to my utter astonishment, I was served with a legal paper, of which the following is a correct copy:--

“THE COMMONWEALTH OF VIRGINIA

_To the Sergeant of the City of Norfolk_:

You are hereby commanded to summon Margaret Douglass, and Rosa Douglass, to appear before the Judge of our Circuit Court of the City of Norfolk, at the Court House of our said City, on the first day of the next November Term, to answer a presentment of the Grand Jury made against them in the said Court, on the 2d day of June, 1853, for this, that the said Margaret Douglass, and Rosa Douglass, and each of them, did, on the 9th day of May, 1853, at the City of Norfolk, unlawfully assemble with divers negroes, for the purpose of instructing them to read and to write, and did instruct them to read and to write, contrary to the Act of the General Assembly, in such case made and provided, and against the peace and dignity of the Commonwealth of Virginia.

Witness, John Williams, Clerk of our said Court, at the Court House, this 13th day of July, 1853, in the 78th year of the Commonwealth.

(Signed,) JNO. WILLIAMS, C. C.

A Copy, (Signed,) JNO. WILLIAMS, C. C.

This document needs but little comment. I merely ask, was not the cause a great one that enabled a poor weak woman thus to disturb “the peace and dignity of the Commonwealth of Virginia,” and that, too, “in the 78th year” of its existence? Were not the subject too serious, one might venture to laugh at the idea of the fearful perils to which that dignified and aristocratic State was subjected, by the fact that a few little negro boys and girls had learned that famous sentence “In Adam’s fall we sinned all.” Let the fact be recorded, and go down to posterity among the noble archives of that noble State, that her existence was jeopardized in the year 1853, by the shocking occurrence of some of its inhabitants learning “to read and to write.” Shades of Henry Clay, of Thomas Jefferson, of John Randolph, and of all the dead worthies of Virginia, behold a specimen of enlightened progression that is something more than an abstraction!

After receiving this paper, the effect of which I well understood, my mind was heavily taxed as to what course I should pursue in the matter. Owing to my retired way of living and my constant employment, I had but little time to spare from my daily avocations, but a vast amount of time for reflection. My pecuniary means being limited, and having but little affection for lawyers, I determined to rely upon the justice of my cause, and plead my own case. Therefore, for four months I was engaged in hard study, hard labor, and hard living, my mind being as fully occupied as my hands. I determined to converse with no one, and when the matter would be occasionally brought up by others, I would have as little to say as possible, and few knew the course of action that I intended to pursue. In the first place, I had no quarrel with the people of Virginia, and did not wish to have, and I determined to enter into no conflict with them. I also felt certain that, if I employed counsel, many good men and women of Norfolk, who had done all that I had, would be brought into the same difficulty. Leaving self entirely out of the question, I determined not to do anything to place those engaged in Christ’s Church Sunday-school in the same difficulty with myself, for I heartily approved of what they were and had been doing. I also believed that, if I kept quiet, the matter would still amount to nothing. I could not believe that men who boasted of their talents and benevolence could be so blinded by their attachment to their peculiar institution as to farther irritate a matter that would, from beginning to end, prove disgraceful to them and to their State. I therefore took a firm stand, and was determined to maintain the principle for which I was doomed to suffer; for, as I have said before, I am a strong advocate for the religious and moral instruction of the Southern slaves. I was determined to express my views freely, should my case ever be brought before the court. During the whole of this prosecution, I did nothing, either by word or action, to irritate the people of Norfolk, and, though I might have replied to the paragraphs against me inserted in their newspapers, I did not do so; and, though extremely mortifying to my feelings to have my name brought so freely into the public prints, still I was silent, and bore my persecutions with patience.

Although I corresponded regularly with my daughter every week, I did not make known to her the condition of affairs, desiring not to mar her happiness with our northern friends, until the first of September, when I directed her to remain in New York, until I should call her home. Thus my readers will see that my daughter did not “run away” from the authorities of Norfolk, and the assertions to that effect in their papers were utterly false. She left Norfolk before the summons was served, and remained there at my instance, in ignorance of what was going on at home. Norfolk was our adopted home, and we never had the slightest idea of running away from it. No, indeed: we would not so far forget our native dignity, as to have it said that a South Carolinian ran from a Virginian. As it has since been proven, the authorities and people of Norfolk would have been very glad if we had taken this course, in order that they might at once have been relieved from the odium of pursuing the prosecution, and at the same time been enabled to brand us as fugitives from justice. The _Richmond Examiner_ has recently said that my prison doors were open at my bidding. It is very true that they were, but for what purpose, and how would my flight have been regarded?

Believing that my lonely situation naturally called loudly for friends, I thought that in that city of churches, some one, at least among the religious part of the community, would come forward and offer me sympathy and advice without being solicited therefor; but will my readers believe me when I say, that not one solitary individual thus manifested the least interest in the matter? I determined, therefore, to ask nothing at the hands of a Virginian, for I had never done so during the eight years that I had resided among them, and I can truly say that I owe the people of Norfolk nothing: no, not even for the exercise of common humanity.

As the time drew near when I would be called upon by the attorney of the commonwealth to appear for trial, I felt myself thoroughly prepared to meet the worst, and on the first day of the November Term, I voluntarily stood before him in his office, and had a brief conversation with him, in which I informed him, that I was ready to meet the case, and that he would oblige me by bringing it on as soon as possible, as my mind was heavily taxed, and I had little time to lose. He promised to do so, and inquired who was my counsel. I told him that I was my own counsellor, and should employ no other. It was my first interview with this gentleman, and I was much pleased with his manner and conversation. He remarked that he should be placed in a rather disagreeable position, by having to plead against a lady. I replied, that I wished to be friendly with him, and hoped that he would not think me unreasonable: that I expected him to do his duty, and that I should certainly endeavor to do mine. I believe that the matter gave him some uneasiness, when he found that I was determined to plead my own case, and, after explaining a few points to him, he remarked that the matter had entirely slipped his memory, and that he had not before thought seriously about it. He promised to send for me whenever I was wanted, and soon after did so; but, another case not being concluded, I was compelled to await still another day. The day of trial came at last, and I proceeded to the Court House, unattended by any one, and, seating myself in the jury room, patiently awaited the summons to appear before the Court. I had provided myself with a neat and becoming dress, in a description of which my lady readers may be interested. It was made of black velvet, fitting closely and neatly to my form, with rich flowing lace sleeves, white kid gloves, and a plain straw bonnet, neatly trimmed with white. I had in my hand the copy of the summons, and a small red pocket Bible, which my daughter used when she visited the sick children. I had written nothing that I expected to say, preferring to depend on my own energies in whatever emergencies I might be placed. Being fully acquainted with the rules of courtesy, and the respect due from a lady to every true gentleman, as well as that required by an honorable Court, I determined not to do the slightest violence to the feelings of any one present, but to proffer all due consideration to the Court and counsellors, and I certainly expected the same in return. In my determination to plead my own case, I did not desire to step out of the natural sphere of my sex, or to force myself into the position of a counsellor, but I was the party most deeply interested; had given the matter all due reflection, and was best acquainted with its merits; had gathered together every fragment and woven them into one web, and it pleased me to unravel it myself; for I was prosecuted for violating a law that I knew nothing about. Certainly no favors had been shown to me because I was a woman, and therefore I believed that I possessed the right to defend myself in my own way.

As I sat in the jury-room, waiting to be called, that body were receiving their charge from the judge in some petty case tried the day before. When they entered, I was invited into the court-room. The Prosecuting Attorney of the Commonwealth received me at the door, and we passed in together, I taking my seat at the counsellor’s table, directly facing his Honor the learned Judge. I entered the room with a firm step, walked proudly through the dark cloud of heads that I saw around me, and when I took my seat I was perfectly calm and collected. It was some time before the court was fairly organized; for everybody present seemed to be confused, except myself. Finally, the jury were sworn, and the witnesses for the Commonwealth called.

Mr. Cherry, the City Constable, who made the original arrest, was sworn, and examined by the Prosecuting Attorney; and, as he testified merely to the facts as they really were, and knew nothing farther, I did not cross-examine him. The same may be said of officer Cox, his assistant at the time of the descent upon the school, who was next called; and also of his Honor, Mayor Stubbs, neither of whom were questioned by me. The next witness called for the prosecution was Mr. C. C. Melson, the agent of my landlord, who, although unexpectedly called upon, walked firmly to the witness stand, placed his hands behind him, fixed his eyes steadily upon the jury, and answered every question with a degree of promptness that did him credit. He testified merely that he was acquainted with me, and was the agent and collector of rents for Mr. Taylor, my landlord; that he rented me the house, but not for the purpose of keeping a negro school, and that he did not know that one was kept there; that I engaged the house when the foundation was laid, and had lived in it ever since. On being asked if he ever saw any colored children entering it, he replied that he never watched his tenants’ houses to see who went in or out. There was no necessity for cross-examining Mr. Melson; and as sufficient facts were deemed proven, and not denied by me, to substantiate the alleged violation of the letter of the law, the case for the prosecution here rested. I then informed the Prosecuting Attorney that I wished, before examining my witnesses, to make a statement to the court in reference to my daughter’s absence; and, permission being granted, I then addressed his Honor and the jury;

“I beg leave to inform your honor, and you, gentlemen of the jury, that my daughter, whose name is joined with mine in this prosecution, is at present in the city of New York, and was there at the time the summons was issued and served upon me: but, if she were in Norfolk at this time, I do not know that you have any business whatever with her. She is under age, and has been brought up in strict obedience to me in all things. I am alone responsible for any act of hers, as well as for my own. I am here to answer to any charge that may be brought against me. I have been notified to present myself this day before this court to answer to the charge of having been engaged in teaching colored children to read and to write, and I am informed that in so doing I have been acting against the _peace_ and _dignity_ of the Commonwealth. This charge, gentlemen, I do not like, but we shall see who it is that destroys our _peace_ and insults our _dignity_.”

The Prosecuting Attorney here touched me on the arm, thinking that I was about to discuss the merits of the case before the testimony was closed. This somewhat disconcerted me, but I took my seat and soon regained my calmness, and proceeded to call my witnesses.

I had but three, Mr. Walter Taylor, Mr. Sharp, a lawyer, and Mr. John Williams, also a lawyer and the Clerk of the Court in which I was being tried. All these gentlemen were members of Christ’s Church, and, together with their wives and daughters, were teachers and instructors of negroes in the Sunday-school held habitually in the lecture room of that Church. Mr. Williams had penned with his own hands the summons that had brought me then before the court, while his own daughter, Miss Eliza Williams was then teaching in that Sunday-school the same children that were in our school, and from the same books that they used with us. Among others who were also engaged in teaching in that Sunday-school, and from the same books that we used, I may mention Mrs. Dixon, Mrs. Southgate, Mrs. Pinkum, Miss Martha Taylor, Miss Jane Watson, Miss Henrietta Hunter, the Hon. Tazewell Taylor, and even some members of the family of Judge Baker who presided on the Bench at my trial, and finally fixed and passed my sentence. In giving the names of these persons, I am not actuated by any malicious feelings towards them, for I most heartily approve of all that they have done in the matter of instructing the colored people of Norfolk, but I do it merely to show the injustice to which I was subjected, while these individuals, representing the aristocracy of that town, and who had done all, and more than I had done, and because they were such aristocracy, were not only allowed to escape the punishment attached to the offence of which we were equally guilty, but also to aid in the prosecution against me, and even sit in judgment upon me. The deductions from these simple facts are so clear and simple that I need not direct the attention of my readers to them more particularly.

The excitement in the Court room, when the names of my three witnesses were called, was most intense, and when it subsided, Mr. Taylor was put upon the stand, and testified as follows:--

_Question._ Was you a teacher in the Christ Church Sunday-school?

_Answer._ For the white children I was, and the school was held in the church.

_Q._ Did you never visit the lecture room?

_A._ I had nothing to do with the school that was kept there.

_Q._ Did you never distribute books to the negro children of that school?

_A._ I attended the library of the school for white children.

_Q._ Did you not instruct colored children to read from those books?

_A._ I did not.

Mr. Taylor was not cross-examined by the Prosecuting Attorney, and I allowed him to take his seat, and called Mr. John Williams, Attorney, and Clerk of the Court. This gentleman took the stand with a pallid countenance, and quivering lip, evidently extremely troubled by the position in which he found himself placed. My benevolent feelings would not allow him to convict himself or his amiable daughter, and I therefore asked him a few unimportant questions, and dismissed him. I then called Lawyer Sharp, who testified as follows:--

_Q._ Were you a teacher in the school for colored children, held in Christ’s Church Lecture room?

_A._ No, madam.

_Q._ Did you not attend the Sabbath-school held there for the instruction of negro children?

_A._ I went there, occasionally, and lectured to them.

_Q._ Did you not distribute books among them?

_A._ _The ladies had all to do with that!_

_Q._ When you visited that school, did you not instruct them yourself?

To this question he replied very _sharply_,--thus evincing his name to be indicative of his character and disposition,--that they did not teach them to read and write, and that he did not know that the law prohibited religious and moral instruction to negroes.

I answered, “If you, sir, who are engaged in the practice of the law, did not know it, how could it be expected that I should?”

“Madam?” said he, as though he did not understand me. I repeated the question, and he then addressed the Judge, and asked permission to say what he had to communicate directly to the jury. I made no objection, and he proceeded to state as follows:--