Walter
Hawkins was
born
a slave in Georgetown, Maryland. After being sold to a slave-dealer,
Hawkins escaped to Philadelphia. He moved on to Canada
where he became a Methodist minister.
In 1890 Hawkins was made a bishop Methodist
Episcopal Church.
With help from
Celestine
Edwards,
Hawkins wrote
his autobiography, From
Slavery to Bishopric
(1891).
(1)
Walter Hawkins, From Slavery to Bishopric (1891)
In
the happiest moment of their life, there arose in some an irrepressible
desire for freedom which no danger or power could restrain, no hardship
deterred, and no bloodhound could alarm. This desire haunted them
night and day; they talked about it to each other in confidence; they
knew that the system which bound them was as unjust as it was cruel,
and that they ought to strive, as a duty to themselves and their children,
to escape from it, as the slaves in Jamaica tried to do in 1732, unknown
to them, and later as their neighbours in St. Domingo succeeded in
doing: and such was the state of mind beneath all their singing and
dancing that, had they means as they had desire, there would have
been no slave-holder to talk about the happiness of his slaves.
To enslave men successfully and safely it was necessary to keep their
minds occupied with thoughts and aspirations short of the liberty
of which they were deprived. Thus masters gave the slaves some holidays,
which served the purpose of keeping their minds occupied with prospective
pleasures within the limits of slavery. It was during these holidays
that the young man could go wooing; the married man went to see his
wife; the father and mother to see their children; the industrious
and money-making could earn a few dollars: it was then that the strong
tried their strength at wrestling
or boxing; then the drinker drank plenty of whisky, and the religious
spent their time in praying, preaching,
singing and exhorting. Before these holidays their pleasures were
in prospect, after they were
pleasures of reflection; but for these holidays, which acted as safety-valves,
the rigours of bondage would have been carried off by the explosive
elements produced in the minds of the slaves by the injustice and
fraud of slavery.
In his savage state the Negro was
at liberty to eat what he liked and could get by his own activity,
but as a slave he was forced to have "Johnny cakes" and
black treacle, with rare variation. This cake was made out of corn-meal,
salt, and water, and baked on a piece of barrel-head. At dinner-time
old Jane Robinson would call her slaves and give each of them a piece
and a little molasses, which she would pour into a large plate so
as to make it look much more than it really was; of course there was
no blessing asked on this meal. The necessary preliminary having been
gone through, Walter would receive his allowance with all the humility
of one who had received a knighthood from his Queen. It is needless
to say that he soon polished off the "Johnny cake," licked
the treacle and bowed ready for more, to which Mrs. Robinson would
gravely reply: "You young rascal, do you mean to breed a famine?
Go to your work!" Can anyone wonder at slaves singing.
(2) Walter
Hawkins, From Slavery to Bishopric (1891)
The system under which he laboured forbade
consideration and gave little practical sympathy to a weary slave,
and when it was time to rest, what had the slave to sleep upon? The
sleeping apartments, if they could have been called such, had little
regard for decency. Old and young, male and female, married and single,
were glad to drop down like so many brute beasts upon the common clay
floor, each covered with his or her own blanket, their only protection
from cold and exposure. How much of rest had a slave? The night, however
short, was cut off at both ends: slaves worked late and rose early.
Then part of the night was spent in mending their scanty clothing
for decency's sake, and in cooking their food for the morrow--in fact,
they were whipped for over-sleep more than for drunkenness, a sin
which the masters rarely reproved; while neither age nor sex found
favour for sleeping too much. If they slept too long the overseer
stood at the quarter door, armed like a hedgehog, with stick and whip,
ready to deal merciless blows upon those who were a little behind
time. Thus, when the horn blew, there was a general rush for the door,
each trying to be first, as the last one was sure to get a blow from
the brute. He was accounted a good master who allowed his slaves to
leave the field to eat their hoe-cake and salt pork or herrings; those
who had their meals in the field had it thrown in a row in the corner
of the fences or hedge, so as not to lose time to and from the field.
(3) Walter
Hawkins, From Slavery to Bishopric (1891)
While smarting under this sense of the injustice of the institution
of slavery, the son of Mr. Robinson, who had followed his father's
footsteps in drinking and gambling, came home one day hard up for
cash, and, not knowing any better way to raise money to satisfy his
passions, resolved on selling Walter, whom he called, saying: "Do
you want a master?" Of course, he had no other choice but to
answer: "Yes, sir". So he took the young man to a slave-dealer
who bought and sold slaves to owners in the South. The dealer and
southern plantations brought to his mind all the terrible things he
had heard about those parts, and well he might, for the law by which
slaves were governed in the Carolinas was a provincial law as old
as 1740, but was made perpetual in 1783. By this law every Negro was
presumed a slave unless the contrary appeared. Any person who murdered
a slave was to pay £100, or £14 if he cut out the tongue
of a slave. Any white man meeting seven slaves together on a high
road could give them twenty lashes each, and no man could teach a
slave to write under a penalty of £100 currency.
Walter stood by while the bargain was being made, and heard the dealer
offer nine hundred dollars for his body. Speaking to Walter, he said:
"Can you plough and grub? Can you do general work on the farm?"
The poor fellow could do no more than please his master by answering
"yes" to all his questions, which pleased both the dealer
and young Robinson, for whose benefit all the lies were told. The
bargain being struck, an arrangement was made for Walter to re-appear
the next morning at seven o'clock; at the same time, he was to bid
good-bye to his friends; but be sure, said he, that you are on the
spot at seven.
Resolved to flee, he went straight to his old father and told him
that he was sold. "Sold!" exclaimed the old man; "to
whom?" "Why, to old Cidley, the Negro-dealer." After
a pause the old man said: "They will sell my last child,"
and burst into tears, weeping like a child. He talked and wept with
his son until he bathed the floor at his feet. At last he said: "Boy,
run away". "I will," responded Walter. But now his
troubles began, for he did not know, and the old man could not tell
him, where to go any distance beyond ten miles in either direction
from where they stood, as it was a part of the policy of slavery to
keep them in ignorance as to distance.
(4) Walter
Hawkins, From Slavery to Bishopric (1891)
At the time when Walter Hawkins arrived in Philadelphia it was called
a free city and county; yet the young ladies, who gave him the information
that he was free, dared not be seen with him after they had left the
train, so that he had to do the best he could. He was told that there
were always kidnappers hanging about on the look-out for runaway slaves,
through whom he might be taken back
to the dark South. About the time when the runaway slave Hawkins arrived
in Philadelphia there were 18,708 Negroes living in the city, 250
of whom had paid for their freedom. Some were free-born, while others
were - like young Hawkins - escaped slaves.
One can well imagine
the feelings of this young man, who had never seen such a large number
of his race congregated into one town or city as freed men. However,
the old preacher Proctor, in whose house he found a refuge, and who
introduced him to his elder brother, kept him for a few weeks, feeding
both his mind and body. Such was the old man's intense love to Christ
and devotion to charitable works that, whoever came in his company,
was made to feel a like affection for One whom the ages have been
slow to comprehend. Before the end of the second week Hawkins felt
that old Proctor's influence was irresistible; at last, while listening
to one of his sermons, the young man became penitent, and threw in
his lot with the Christians, and resolved that "this people shall
be my people, and their God shall be my God".
As a slave, his religion was mere emotionalism, which served to break
the monotony of the cruel scourge of slavery. But as a freed man he
had an opportunity of reflecting upon the character of Christ, which
had been clouded by the moral degradation which pervaded all rank
of the society from whence he had made his escape. In that society
vice reigned, yet it was believed to be under the special protection
of Christianity - we mean the vice of breeding slaves and encouraging
drunkenness and the like.
(5) Walter
Hawkins moved to Brentford, Canada where he became a Methodist church
minister.
Soon after the family arrived, a revival
broke out in the town, and many new members were added to the church;
by which means the minister got a little more generous support, which
was very much needed, as sickness laid many of the family low and
created fresh difficulties and additional expenses. The Fugitive Slave
Law drove more black people into Canada, which gave Mr. Hawkins more
anxiety for their bodily and spiritual well-being. Besides preaching
at the head of the circuit, he had to travel day and night under very
trying circumstances. Often he had to go out in the morning after
a light breakfast, and walk, talk, pray, and sing a whole day before
having any dinner. In some villages he had all that to do on an empty
stomach, as the people had barely enough for themselves, far less
to give anything away. Indeed, the man could not find it in his heart
to take from people who ran away from slavery as penniless as he himself
was when be made good his escape to Philadelphia. The poor wretches,
on entering Canada, had to dive straight away into the wild woods
to make a home for themselves as best they could. Not only had they
to clear the land that had been given to them, but they were bound
to work for the farmers around to get bread for their families to
subsist upon, until such time as their own crops grew, and were reaped
to turn into ready money.
What could a poor Methodist minister do in the midst of such poverty
which stared him in the face? How little can we, who live in a country
much more favourable than theirs, imagine what must have been the
sufferings of a minister and his flock in a new country at such a
time! What aching hearts, hungry stomachs, and destitution must have
reigned in their midst! Hawkins often looks back on those dreary days,
saying: "I would get a quarter of a dollar, sometimes a half,
and maybe a little meat, flour, or potatoes, just as it might happen";
and yet he felt happier than when he was a slave. He would travel
around his circuit once in four weeks, proclaiming the message of
salvation to his race. His income was then about one dollar, or four
shillings and twopence, for four weeks' hard labour. Though hard,
the work was pleasant.
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