146 Inventing Americas: 1800–1865Independence, ‘that all men are created equal,’ ” be realized in practice. That was why,
he recollected in William Lloyd Garrison: The Story of His Life (1885), “I determined ... to
lift up the standard of emancipation in the eyes of the nation, within sight of Bunker
Hill and in the birthplace of liberty.” “I am aware that many object to the severity of my
language,” Garrison admitted. But, to them, he posed the question, “is there not cause
for severity? I will be as harsh as truth, and as uncompromising as justice.” Besides, he
asked, where was the room for thinking, speaking, or writing “with moderation” in
such a crisis? “Tell a man whose house is on fire to give a moderate alarm; tell him to
moderately rescue his wife from the hands of the ravisher; tell the mother to gradually
extricate her babe from the fire into which it has fallen.” Garrison was fervent in his
language. “I am in earnest –,” he declared, “I will not equivocate – I will not excuse – I
will not retreat a single inch – AND I WILL BE HEARD.” He was, however, in favor of
moral persuasion rather than coercion. There was, in fact, a curious gap between the
violence of his words and the creed of nonviolence he embraced. The violent terms in
which he often expressed himself offended some, Garrison admitted. For others,
though, like Frederick Douglass, who eventually broke with him over the issue, it was
the belief that nonviolence could defeat the power of slavery that was the problem.
The editorials and journalistic work of Garrison often possess the rhetorical
power of great speeches. In the case of Wendell Phillips, it was his power as a writer
and performer of public speeches that secured his place in the abolitionist movement.
For 25 years, Phillips toured the lyceum circuit. His lectures included diverse topics,
but the ones for which he became and remained famous were on the subject of
slavery. What Phillips was notable for, in particular, was for insisting that black
people had a natural right to be free because they were the equal of whites. That
might seem an unremarkable argument now but, at that time, there were many
scientists ready to argue that African-Americans were a separate and inferior race. In
his speech “Toussaint L’Ouverture,” for instance, eventually published in Speeches,
Lectures, and Letters (1863), Phillips celebrated the black leader of the revolution
against the French in Haiti. In what numerous contemporary audiences found a
spellbinding account, Phillips described the courageous life and tragic death of
Toussaint. Toussaint was, Phillips suggested, superior to Oliver Cromwell as a soldier
and a statesman, superior also to Napoleon and even to Washington. Talking of
“Negro courage,” endurance, wisdom, and tolerance in the person of Toussaint,
Phillips came quite close to suggesting that black people were not just the equals but
the superiors of whites. Certainly, he emphasized that they had had to struggle
against greater odds than anyone even to get their story told. “I am about to tell you
the story of a Negro who has left hardly one written line,” Phillips customarily began
his oration. “All the materials for his biography are from the lips of his enemies.”
Phillips’s aims were immediate: to arouse his audience to support for the abolitionist
cause and the possible necessity of direct action – the oration closed, in fact, with the
name of John Brown being invoked directly before that of Toussaint L’Ouverture.
But in pointing out that he was unearthing a secret history, one that rarely if ever
was allowed into white history books, he was curiously anticipating what was to
become a resonant theme in much later African-American writing.GGray_c02.indd 146ray_c 02 .indd 146 8 8/1/2011 7:54:40 AM/ 1 / 2011 7 : 54 : 40 AM