CHAPTER X

HOW WHITTIER WAS MOBBED

We must now mention a few exciting events in which Whittier himself took part. At the time of the occurrences referred to in the last chapter, George Thompson, an eloquent English reformer who had helped to secure the abolition of slavery in the British colonies, came to Boston to speak against slavery in the United States. It happened that the good people of the churches thought that the easy way to remove slavery was to send the slaves back to Africa, and for this they took up collections. Garrison and Whittier came out strongly against this weak-kneed plan, and George Thompson helped them. Of course, the church folk were angry; and all the business men were angry, because they said it spoiled business to stir up this agitation. As a result, the rough characters in every town saw a chance to have sport, and did all they could to break up the meetings of abolitionists. The good church people and all the well-to-do and solid members of the community were so angry that they wouldn’t do anything to stop the mobs; and the result was that, wherever the speakers went, stones and rotten eggs were thrown at them, and abuse of all sorts was heaped upon them.

They got up a cry against George Thompson especially, that he was an Englishman who had come over to try to steal American business; for in those days Americans were very jealous of England. They said Thompson’s antislavery speeches were intended simply to stir up a quarrel between the Northern people and the Southern, so that England could step in and get their business. Handbills were thrown broadcast in Boston offering one hundred dollars to the first person that would lay violent hands on him.

The first mob was the one Whittier saw in Boston, from which his sister narrowly escaped. The rioters were after Thompson; but not finding him, they took Garrison instead.

A little later Thompson came to Haverhill and stopped with the Whittiers. He and the poet immediately set out on a tour into New Hampshire. With Thompson had come a clergyman named Samuel J. May. He was to have held a meeting one Sunday in the First Parish meeting-house in Concord, but the committee refused to allow him to speak on slavery, and another church was obtained.

At half-past seven he began to speak. Every one was listening with breathless attention, when a stone came through a window. He paid no attention, but kept steadily on. In a moment another stone came through the pulpit window, and another big one fell among the audience and frightened them so they all started for the door. Rev. Mr. May then decided to close the meeting, and called to the people to receive the benediction.

It was a good thing he did so, for the steps of the church had been taken away, and if the crowd had poured out they would have fallen headlong. A heavily loaded cannon had also been brought up, and would have been used with terrible effect had the meeting lasted much longer. Whittier’s sister took one arm of the clergyman, and another young lady the other, and they got him through the crowd without injury.

Whittier and Thompson had in the meantime gone to meet a still more violent mob. A man named George Kent arranged a meeting for them in Concord, Massachusetts, since famous as the home of Hawthorne and Emerson. Handbills were circulated announcing that George Thompson and John G. Whittier would hold a meeting “at which the principles, views, and operations of the abolitionists would be explained.” The selectmen warned the people who were promoting it that there would be trouble if they held it; but they persisted.

As the hour for the meeting approached, a great crowd gathered. The selectmen ordered that the doors should not be opened. Thereupon the crowd determined that they would find “the incendiary George Thompson,” and punish him as he deserved; and, with loud threats, they accordingly set off for the house of George Kent and his “wine cellar.”

On the way they met Whittier. They thought he was Thompson, in spite of his Quaker coat and the assurances of a gentleman who was with him that he was not the man, and began to pelt him with rotten eggs, mud, and stones. Whittier was only lamed a little; but his coat was spoiled by the decayed eggs so that he could not wear it any more. Years afterward, when clothes were being sent to the negroes in the South, he donated this coat.

At last Whittier and his companion escaped into the house of Colonel Kent, a brother of George Kent, and the colonel convinced the crowd that Thompson was not there. They therefore pushed on to the house of George Kent, where he really was. Quite a little company of antislavery people had assembled there to see Thompson, among them two nieces of Daniel Webster. But when the crowd arrived, he had left the house by a back street.

When the mob found that he was gone, they went away to celebrate with fireworks and bonfires. In the meantime Whittier, anxious for his friend, changed his hat, and escaping through the crowd went to the house of George Kent. After a time Thompson came back. So did the crowd, all the time firing guns, throwing stones, and making a great noise.

At last, early in the morning, a horse and buggy were brought around to the back door, and Thompson and Whittier got into the vehicle. Then the gates were thrown open, and, before the crowd knew what was being done, they drove away at a furious rate and escaped.

They drove fast; but the news had spread before them. They came to an inn at some distance from Concord. A number of men were telling about the riot, and exhibiting a handbill calling upon all good citizens to assist in capturing George Thompson and giving him his deserts.

“How will you recognize the rascal?” asked Whittier.

“Easily enough; he is a tonguey fellow,” said the landlord.

When they were in their carriage ready to drive away, Whittier said, “I am John G. Whittier, and this is George Thompson.”

The men stared at them until they were out of sight, but did not offer to lay hands on them.

A year or two later Whittier went to Philadelphia to edit an antislavery paper. The abolitionists had put up a large, fine building, called Pennsylvania Hall. Whittier moved his editorial office into it as soon as it was finished. A series of meetings were at once held in it; but they did not last long, for one night a mob burned the building, and of course Whittier’s office, with all his papers, was destroyed.