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SOJOURNER
TRUTH Reminiscences
recorded by Refer to introductory commentary to this document in Women in American History by Encyclopedia Britannica; http://women.eb.com/women/pri/Q00160.html
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REMINISCENCES
BY FRANCES D. GAGE.
The leaders of the movement trembled on seeing a tall,
gaunt black woman in a gray dress and white turban, surmounted with an
uncouth sun-bonnet, march deliberately into the church, walk with the air
of a queen up the aisle, and take her seat upon the pulpit steps. A buzz
of disapprobation was heard all over the house, and there fell on the
listening ear, "An abolition affair!" "Woman's rights and
niggers!" "I told you so!" "Go it, darkey!"
I chanced on that occasion to wear my
first laurels in public life as president of the meeting. At my request
order was restored, and the business of the Convention went on. Morning,
afternoon, and evening exercises came and went. Through all these sessions
old Sojourner, quiet and reticent as the "Lybian Statue," sat
crouched against the wall on the corner of the pulpit stairs, her
sun-bonnet shading her eyes, her elbows on her knees, her chin resting
upon her broad, hard palms. At intermission she was busy selling the
"Life of Sojourner Truth," a narrative of her own strange and
adventurous life. Again and again, timorous and trembling ones came to me
and said, with earnestness, "Don't let her speak, Mrs. Gage, it will
ruin us. Every newspaper in the land will have our cause mixed up with
abolition and niggers, and we shall be utterly denounced." My only
answer was, "We shall see when the time comes."
The second day the work waxed warm.
Methodist, Baptist, Episcopal, Presbyterian, and Universalist ministers
came in to hear and discuss the resolutions presented. One claimed
superior rights and privileges for man, on the ground of "superior
intellect"; another, because of the "manhood of Christ; if God
had desired the equality of woman, He would have given some token of His
will through the birth, life, and death of the Saviour." Another gave
us a theological view of the "sin of our first mother."
There were very few women in those days
who dared to "speak in meeting"; and the august teachers of the
people were seemingly getting the better of us, while the boys in the
galleries, and the sneerers among the pews, were hugely enjoying the
discomfiture, as they supposed, of the "strong-minded." Some of
the tender-skinned friends were on the point of losing dignity, and the
atmosphere betokened a storm. When, slowly from her seat in the corner
rose Sojourner Truth, who, till now, had scarcely lifted her head.
"Don't let her speak!" gasped half a dozen in my ear. She moved
slowly and solemnly to the front, laid her old bonnet at her feet, and
turned her great speaking eyes to me. There was a hissing sound of
disapprobation above and below. I rose and announced "Sojourner
Truth," and begged the audience to keep silence for a few moments.
The tumult subsided at once, and every
eye was fixed on this almost Amazon form, which stood nearly six feet
high, head erect, and eyes piercing the upper air like one in a dream. At
her first word there was a profound hush. She spoke in deep tones, which,
though not loud, reached every ear in the house, and away through the
throng at the doors and windows.
"Wall, chilern, whar dar is so much
racket dar must be somethin' out o' kilter. I tink dat 'twixt de niggers
of de Souf and de womin at de Norf, all talkin' 'bout rights, de white men
will be in a fix pretty soon. But what's all dis here talkin' 'bout?
"Dat man ober dar say dat womin
needs to be helped into carriages, and lifted ober ditches, and to hab de
best place everywhar. Nobody eber helps me into carriages, or ober
mud-puddles, or gibs me any best place!" And raising herself to her
full height, and her voice to a pitch like rolling thunder, she asked.
"And a'n't I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! (and she bared her
right arm to the shoulder, showing her tremendous muscular power). I have
ploughed, and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me!
And a'n't I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man--when I
could get it--and bear de lash as well! And a'n't I a woman? I have borne
thirteen chilern, and seen 'em mos' all sold off to slavery, and when I
cried out with my mother's grief, none but Jesus heard me! And a'n't I a
woman?
"Den dey talks 'bout dis ting in de
head; what dis dey call it?" ("Intellect," whispered some
one near.) "Dat's it, honey. What's dat got to do wid womin's rights
or nigger's rights? If my cup won't hold but a pint, and yourn holds a
quart, wouldn't ye be mean not to let me have my little half-measure
full?" And she pointed her significant finger, and sent a keen glance
at the minister who had made the argument. The cheering was long and loud.
"Den dat little man in black dar, he
say women can't have as much rights as men, 'cause Christ wan't a woman!
Whar did your Christ come from?" Rolling thunder couldn't have
stilled that crowd, as did those deep, wonderful tones, as she stood there
with outstretched arms and eyes of fire. Raising her voice still louder,
she repeated, "Whar did your Christ come from? From God and a woman!
Man had nothin' to do wid Him." Oh, what a rebuke that was to that
little man.
Turning again to
another objector, she took up the defense of Mother Eve. I can not follow
her through it all. It was pointed, and witty, and solemn; eliciting at
almost every sentence deafening applause; and she ended by asserting:
"If de fust woman God ever made was strong enough to turn de world
upside down all alone, dese women togedder (and she glanced her eye over
the platform) ought to be able to turn it back, and get it right side up
again! And now dey is asking to do it, de men better let 'em."
Long-continued cheering greeted this. "'Bleeged to ye for hearin' on
me, and now ole Sojourner han't got nothin' more to say."
Amid roars of applause, she returned to
her corner, leaving more than one of us with streaming eyes, and hearts
beating with gratitude. She had taken us up in her strong arms and carried
us safely over the slough of difficulty turning the whole tide in our
favor. I have never in my life seen anything like the magical influence
that subdued the mobbish spirit of the day, and turned the sneers and
jeers of an excited crowd into notes of respect and admiration. Hundreds
rushed up to shake hands with her, and congratulate the glorious old
mother, and bid her God-speed on her mission of "testifyin' agin
concerning the wickedness of this 'ere people." |
