The Iron Furnace; or, Slavery and Secession. Aughey John Hill
reported me, and where are your witnesses?”
“Any one has a right to report, and it is optional whether he confronts the accused or not. The proceedings of vigilance committees are somewhat informal.”
“Proceed, then, with the trial, in your own way.”
“We propose to ask you a few questions, and in your answers you may defend yourself, or admit your guilt. In the first place, did you ever say that you did not believe that God ordained the institution of slavery?”
“I believe that God did not ordain the institution of slavery.”
“Did not God command the Israelites to buy slaves from the Canaanitish nations, and to hold them as their property for ever?”
“The Canaanites had filled their cup of iniquity to overflowing, and God commanded the Israelites to exterminate them; this, in violation of God’s command, they failed to do. God afterwards permitted the Hebrews to reduce them to a state of servitude; but the punishment visited upon those seven wicked nations by the command of God, does not justify war or the slave-trade.”
“Did you say that you were opposed to the slavery which existed in the time of Christ?”
“I did, because the system of slavery prevailing in Christ’s day was cruel in the extreme; it conferred the power of life and death upon the master, and was attended with innumerable evils. The slave had the same complexion as his master; and by changing his servile garb for the citizen dress, he could not be recognised as a slave. You yourself profess to be opposed to white slavery.”
“Did you state that you believed Paul, when he sent Onesimus back to Philemon, had no idea that he would be regarded as a slave, and treated as such after his return?”
“I did. My proof is in Philemon, verses 15 and 16, where the apostle asks that Onesimus be received, not as a servant, but as a brother beloved?”
“Did you tell Mr. Creath that you knew some negroes who were better, in every respect, than some white men?”
“I said that I knew some negroes who were better classical scholars than any white men I had as yet met with in Choctaw county, and that I had known some who were pre-eminent for virtue and holiness. As to natural rights, I made no comparison; nor did I say anything about superiority or inferiority of race; I also stated my belief in the unity of the races.”
“Have you any abolition works in your library, and a poem in your scrap-book, entitled ‘The Fugitive Slave,’ with this couplet as a refrain,
‘The hounds are baying on my track;
Christian, will you send me back?’”
“I have not Mrs. Stowe’s nor Helper’s work; they are contraband in this region, and I could not get them if I wished. I have many works in my library containing sentiments adverse to the institution of slavery. All the works in common use amongst us, on law, physic, and divinity, all the text-books in our schools – in a word, all the works on every subject read and studied by us, were, almost without exception, written by men opposed to the peculiar institution. I am not alone in this matter.”
“Parson, I saw Cowper’s works in your library, and Cowper says:
‘I would not have a slave to fan me when I sleep,
And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth
That sinews bought and sold have ever earned.’”
“You have Wesley’s writings, and Wesley says that ‘Human slavery is the sum of all villany.’ You have a work which has this couplet:
‘Two deep, dark stains, mar all our country’s bliss:
Foul slavery one, and one, loathed drunkenness.’
You have the work of an English writer of high repute, who says, ‘Forty years ago, some in England doubted whether slavery were a sin, and regarded adultery as a venial offence; but behold the progress of truth! Who now doubts that he who enslaves his fellow-man is guilty of a fearful crime, and that he who violates the seventh commandment is a great sinner in the sight of God?’”
“You are known to be an adept in Phonography, and you are reported to be a correspondent of an abolition Phonographic journal.”
“I understand the science of Phonography, and I am a correspondent of a Phonographic journal, but the journal eschews politics.”
Another member of the committee then interrogated me.
“Parson Aughey, what is Funnyography?”
“Phonography, sir, is a system of writing by means of a philosophic alphabet, composed of the simplest geometrical signs, in which one mark is used to represent one and invariably the same sound.”
“Kin you talk Funnyography? and where does them folks live what talks it?”
“Yes, sir, I converse fluently in Phonography, and those who speak the language live in Columbia.”
“In the Destrict?”
“No, sir, in the poetical Columbia.”
I was next interrogated by another member of the committee.
“Parson Aughey, is Phonography a Abolition fixin?”
“No, sir; Phonography, abstractly considered, has no political complexion; it may be used to promote either side of any question, sacred or profane, mental, moral, physical, or political.”
“Well, you ought to write and talk plain English, what common folks can understand, or we’ll have to say of you, what Agrippa said of Paul, ‘Much learning hath made thee mad.’ Suppose you was to preach in Phonography, who’d understand it? – who’d know what was piped or harped? I’ll bet high some Yankee invented it to spread his abolition notions underhandedly. I, for one, would be in favour of makin’ the parson promise to write and talk no more in Phonography. I’ll bet Phonography is agin slavery, tho’ I never hearn tell of it before. I’m agin all secret societies. I’m agin the Odd-fellers, Free-masons, Sons of Temperance, Good Templars and Phonography. I want to know what’s writ and what’s talked. You can’t throw dust in my eyes. Phonography, from what I’ve found out about it to-day, is agin the Confederate States, and we ought to be agin it.”
Parson Locke then resumed:
“I must stop this digression. Parson Aughey, are you in favour of the South?”
“I am in favour of the South, and have always endeavoured to promote the best interests of the South. However, I never deemed it for the best interests of the South to secede. I talked against secession, and voted against secession, because I thought that the best interests of the South would be put in jeopardy by the secession of the Southern States. I was honest in my convictions, and acted accordingly. Could the sacrifice of my life have stayed the swelling tide of secession, it would gladly have been made.”
“It is said that you have never prayed for the Southern Confederacy.”
“I have prayed for the whole world, though it is true that I have never named the Confederate States in prayer.”
“You may retire.”
After I had retired, the committee held a long consultation. My answers were not satisfactory. I never learned all that transpired. They brought in no formal verdict. The majority considered me a dangerous man, but feared to take my life, as they were, with one exception, adherents of other denominations, and they knew that my people were devotedly attached to me before the secession movement. Some of the secessionists swore that they would go to my house and murder me, when they learned that the committee had not hanged me. My friends provided me secretly with arms, and I determined to defend myself to the last. I slept with a double-barrelled shot-gun at my head, and was prepared to defend myself against a dozen at least.
Learning that I was not acceptable to many of the members of my church, whilst my life was in continual jeopardy, and my family in a state of constant alarm, I abandoned my field of labour, and sought for safety