Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SLAVE-MONGERS' CONVENTION: CANTO 2, SELECTION, by J. P. RANDOLPH


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE SLAVE-MONGERS' CONVENTION: CANTO 2, SELECTION, by                    
First Line: My brethren, most beloved and dear
Last Line: Your whips --
Subject(s): American Civil War; Bible; Clergy; Emancipation Movement & Proclamation; Slavery; U.s. - History; Priests; Rabbis; Ministers; Bishops; Antislavery Movement - United States; Serfs


My brethren, most beloved and dear,
Right glad am I to meet you here;
And as I now begin would say,
We'll just omit to sing and pray,
For 't is not often that I mix
In mud and filth of politics.
We preachers should not stoop so low,
Our calling is too high, you know,
Except when politics will pay,
We do not mind them any way.
I bless my Lord, that by his grace
We meet our brethren in this place,
By slavery's telegraphic wires,
Well advertised of our desires,
Have each arrived, dressed like esquires;
And like the Spartan band we meet,
Each sworn to each, and no retreat.
And though our foes, like Persians old,
Outnumber us a thousand fold,
Each like Leonidas can die,
But never from the cause can fly.
Like Spartans, too, when forced to yield,
Each one will wear the victor's wreath,
Each one a conqueror unto death,
When borne away upon the shield.

But best of all, dear friends, it happens
We priests fight not with carnal weapons;
But mightier far than tempered steel,
They conquer while they may not kill.
'Gainst spiritual wickedness we fight,
That teaches "slavery is not right."

* * *

Brethren, our church has sent me here
Some great objections now to clear;
Some Bible matters that seem strange
To minds within a narrower range.
You may expect that I shall spare
No pains to treat its wishes fair.
The church has always paid me well
For my well-known pro-slavery zeal;
They know I never quarrel, either,
With different views of men together;
That by my learning I can settle
The filth and scum on any kettle;
For charity, though sometimes thin,
Can cover any monster sin.

Some stumbling stones brought in of late
By preachers from each northern state,
Such great objections stir up strife,
And dangerous to some men's belief.
Yet, bless your souls, they're lighter far
Than chaff or puffs of empty air.
Dear brethren, you that love my Lord,
Each well acquainted with his word,
Know that our Bible makes it right
To steal and sell men, black or white;
While rulers in our supreme court,
Of modern democratic sort,
With each court-puppy through the states,
Elected by whisky democrats,
Bow to our laws and creeds, you see,
That human beings are "property."

Now we will look at one objection,
And see if it will pass inspection.
Great bug-bear to some men indeed,
Not well informed in southern creed,
But easy of an explanation,
By great divines of southern fashion.
'T is James, fifth chapter and first verse,
Which seems the meanest and the worst.

"Go to ye rich men weep and howl
For miseries coming on each soul;
Your riches are corrupted, through,
The moth consumes your garments, too,
Your gold and silver gathers rust,
Cankered the Gods in which you trust;
While such decaying things ye crave,
Shall witness against you to the grave.
The wealth ye trust in and desire,
Shall eat your flesh, as if 't were fire;
Your treasured heaps, your joy and praise,
Laid up for use in future days,
Is not your own. Your ill-gotten gain,
Withheld where due, makes want and pain.
Those that have reaped down your fields,
Should share their part that nature yields;
Their hire you thus keep back by fraud,
Comes with their prayers and tears to God;
The Lord of Sabaoth sees and knows
Your avarice and your bondmen's woes,
And fearful will be your last reward,
Standing in judgment before the Lord."

Ha, ha, just see what sheer pretence,
For modern learning and common sense;
For steam and lightning democrats,
With printed piety in our hats.
This text, no doubt you all have seen it,
Can have no reference to slavery in it.
This speaks of those who work'd for hire,
Whose wages were kept back unfair;
Do we hire slaves, or do we buy them?
Or, do we owe them and not pay them?
It seems to me that those who read
Will no such strange delusions heed.

Another, too, that we often see,
From Jeremiah's old prophesy,
Much quoted by the insane few
That unchristainize [sic] both me and you.
Hear how it reads, dear friends, and see
How sinful we appear to be.

"Wo unto him that builds his house
By any unrighteous means for use,
And finish his chambers tight and strong,
Yet does the work entire by wrong,
Using the service of his neighbor,
But pays him nothing for the labor.
Such house or owner cannot stand;
Mountains may turn to flying sand,
Sin overthrows in every land."

I think just so, for when we hire
Our neighbors, we should pay them fair.
But neighbors are equals, all may know,
And when they work for me or you,
Justice requires we pay them too.
But what has this to do, we pray,
With Christian slavery any way?
Our "goods and chattels" are not neighbors,
Nor do we owe them for their labors.
We buy them as we do a horse;
They and their work are ours of course.

There's many other scripture rules
Quoted by abolition schools,
Which, left to their interpretation,
Would curse each man-thief in our nation.
"David and Solomon both," they say,
"Were abolitionists in their day;
And all the prophets in those times
Pronounced oppression the worst of crimes."
Bless your dear souls, old brother David,
Like many of us sometimes behaved.
We often fancy some man's wife,
Yet seldom take the husband's life,
But use the most pacific means,
And send the husband to New Orleans.

Objections by hundreds we might read
Against our piety and our trade,
From visionary phantoms wrought,
As baseless as a painted thought,
If it were any use to name them.
Most cheerfully we might proclaim them;
To answer some men 't is not fit,
Notice but flatters their conceit;
To meet such little things, you see,
Like loading guns to shoot a flea,
Might do for sport with little minds,
But would not pay as great divines.

All scripture is useful in its place,
Like every other means of grace,
Where we great Doctors, wise and holy,
May give interpretations truly;
But ignorant men, with Bible laws,
Learn to dispise [sic] our righteous cause;
They do not see the reason why
Some men may rob, and steal, and lie,
Yet be so full of piety.

Just let me say to this convention,
To which all men may give attention,
That our belief is as we preach;
To all that come within our reach,
We priests are "all things to all men,"
That each some proselytes may gain
Each charitable, kind, and loving,
To keep the gospel wagon moving,
When we're with those that lie and cheat,
We mingle with this and mix with that,
Each like the chamelion colored be,
To suit the color of its tree.
In whisky shops, midst fumes of gin,
We sip and sagely talk of sin;
Preach of repentance at the bar,
But touch not on the practice there;
In gambling dens are not so nice
To spurn the billiards, cards or dice,
But serve our god and praise his name,
While studying deeply at the game.
A game with publicans and sinners
May save their souls and get their shiners.

* * *

Brethren, please notice as we pass
How each example suits our case;
We'll prove each case by scripture text,
And now will turn to Abram next.
His servant Hagar had a son,
A stubborn boy, much like our own.
Sarah, you know, was jealous of Hagar,
As our wives are toward fancy niggers,
Compell'd the girl to leave, you know,
As southern ladies often do,
And good old Abram, rich enough,
Just let the girl and boy go off.
He might have sold them if he would,
But he was very kind and good,
And Christains [sic] had better suffer loss
Than chase their slaves and make such fuss.

* * *

One more important text appears,
Where slaves were bored through the ears,
Which act enthralled them during life,
Parents and children, man and wife,
They volunteered thus to remain,
And toil through life for other's gain.
Their masters, too, were grand and rich,
And some of them did often preach,
Great patriarchs with vast estates,
With servants bought of Canaanites,
Founders of our grand institution,
Men that obeyed the constitution.

Some tell us that the Jubilee
Would every human being free,
That this great law oft violated,
The worst of consequence created.
"Foretold by Prophets long before,
The fearful woe impending came,
When scattered from shore to shore,
That rebel race returns no more,
Their idol-homes no more to claim."

Mistakes are frequently committed,
By those that with mistakes are suited,
The jubilee to none was given,
But Hebrews, the favored ones of Heaven,
While all their chattels, all the 'ites,
From Canaanites to Jebusites,
Were slaves for life, and made to toil,
While sons of Jacob shared the spoil.

The heathen nations round about,
Served wooden gods, from trees hewn out,
And had no psalms or sermons printed,
And would not read them when presented;
They cared for no religious order,
Like Mexicans upon our border,
Like us, the Hebrews Polk'd them over
When wanting wider fields of clover.

For this same cause can men deny us
Our servants, when we are so pious.
The Hebrews kindly did invite them,
Tried every way to proselyte them.
When nought availed by preaching talkers,
Sent in thier [sic] fiilibuster [sic] Walkers;
As they make slaves of stubborn pagans,
We'll do the same with Nicaraguans.

Yes, universal, equal rights
Are but imaginary flights,
Will-o'-the-wisps of insane minds,
Or goblin voices in the winds,
Of different race, and varied caste,
Men have remained from first to last.
Adam was head of the favored race,
With Anglo-Saxon form and face.
Others there were, of meaner blood,
Where Cain took wife in land of Nod.

* * *

Now here's one more great scripture text,
Much quoted by slave breeding sects,
Supporting merchandise in men
As lawful worthy means of gain,
The sons of Jacob sold their brother,
Then why not Christains [sic] sell each other;
And lo, what an interesting tale
Follows the history of that sale.
Old Jacob's starving sons forlorn
Soon had enough of Egypt's corn.
Whole loads of corn, that cost them nothing,
With silver cups, and richest clothing,
Old Jacob's family then could eat
Of Egypt's mutton, beef and wheat,

And what of Jo? just think of him,
Poor little boy, so lean and slim;
'T was luck for him they sold him so,
(The boys had pocket money, too,)
No more obliged to fetch their dinner.
And then be called a little sinner,
Swap'd of his coat, patched up with colors,
For royal robes of Egypt's rulers,
And soon in Phario's court could stand,
And Egypt's millions could command.

Methinks the boy must had high times,
Enough to eat, enough of dimes,
And plenty of leisure time for sport
In that great monarch's golden court.
The boy was lucky, I confess,
When dreams could bring him so much bliss.
If dreams could make me half so rich,
I'd dream, and let my brethren preach;
Indeed, I'd willingly be sold,
If I were sure of so much gold.

* * *

The night was black
On the mountain track,
As the lightning-lantern danced,
And the pelting rain
Shot down amain,
Which but my flight advanced.

I heard the sounds
Of baying hounds,
'Twixt peals of thunder jarring,
And hounds on pegs
With less of legs,
And less of brains, were swearing!

Hope smiled ahead,
And with me fled,
Kept watch and ward around me;
Some had their fun
With dog and gun,
And sought, but never found me.

Wise men of state,
That legislate,
Wove legal snares to catch me,
Some swore to find,
And shoot or bind,
Dead or alive to fetch me.

One paid a price
To advertise,
And said he was my owner;
With money spent,
And wrath had vent,
He found I was a goner.

And here will I
Your power defy,
Your statute laws, or lawyers,
Your judging coons,
And priestly clowns,
And pious thief employers.

Let bears and wolves
Pass their resolves,
To stop the eagle flying,
But when such things
Will clip his wings,
Is better know [sic] by trying.

Go forge your chain
For the boiling main,
Tie up the tossing fountain,
And cram your laws
In the frothy jaws
Of the grinning cat-o'-the-mountain.

Go sing and preach,
Persuade and teach
All those who wish to hear you;
Seek not to blind
One of my kind,
I neither love nor fear you.

Your preaching knaves
Would starve their slaves
To buy a clean shirt collar,
Your judges fell
Would rake out hell,
to find a red-hot dollar.

I'm not you [sic] slave;
God never gave
My flesh to bear your lashing;
Your whips --





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