THE LIFE
OF
JOHN QUINCY ADAMS
I was born in Frederick county, Virginia, in 1845, and was the
slave of Mr. George F. Calomese. My father and mother were both slaves,
and belonged to the same family. My mother was seventeen years old when
she was married, and my father eighteen. They are both living, and are in
very good health, and enjoying freedom, as well as every other citizen.
In my father's family there were twenty-five children, fifteen boys and
ten girls. There were four pairs of twins, and I am one of them. My twin
mate is living at this time.
I remember, when a child, our parents
used to tell us that we would not be always
slaves. It made me feel glad to think that I
would be free some day or other. Though
very young I always felt that I
would like to know how to read and write, but
had no one to teach me. I
often heard the white people say that they
did not want the negro to learn to read and
write. Then I felt satisfied that there was
something more than learning to read
and write that they did not want the negro to
know. When I would hear any
one reading I would always go and stand
around and listen. They often asked me what I
wanted. I would always say “nothing,” but go
and tell my father and mother, and they would
say, “try to hear all you can, but don't let them
know it.” When an election was going on they
did not want the negro to know anything
then, but I tried to learn all I could so that I might
tell father and mother. was very young and
sickly at that time and if it had not been for that
I could
remember a great many more little things
that happened from time to time. When
I was sick my twin brother was sick, and
just as soon as he was well I was well too.
That was always the case. We were
always together, and were never satisfied
if we were not. That was the way until I
was taken as a house servant, and then
we missed each other very much for a long
time, but when I could get out to play
then we were satisfied. Though I had
fourteen or fifteen brothers and sisters
playing around none was like brother
Aaron. Father and mother wanted to do
all they could for us, because we were
sickly, and did not think they would raise
us, but as we grew older we became
stronger, and were as well as the other
children. My mother was sickly at that
time. Many times the little children
would go to mother's bedside and cry—we thought that she was dead, for
sometimes she did not speak for a day, but
when mother would get well what a happy
time we would have. As young as
we were we knew what it was when mother
was sick. When Sunday came mother
would dress us and take us to church, but
when she was sick we missed our dear
mother very much indeed. I often think
if some of the children in these days had
as strict a mother and father as we had
there would not be so many dissipated
men as we have in our city to-day. I
was not allowed from a child to drink
whisky, nor smoke segars, nor do any of
those things, and I thank my father and
mother for it to-day, and will always
think enough of them to never do it.
I will now tell you of my old master's
family. They were one of the first families
of Virginia. They stood upon their
blood. They would trace their ancestors
for two hundred years back. I think
they told me that their grand-father was
related to President Washington—so at
that rate they were some of the “big
bugs.” No poor “white trash” there, as
they called it. They were very wealthy,
but off of negroes and land. You would
see them going around sometimes and
put their hands on one of the little
negroes, and say, “here is $1,000, or $1,500
or $2,000.” How much a negro was worth
then, and now not worth 25 cents a piece.
How things have changed. Mrs. Calomese
was a very kind lady indeed, and
would have been more so if she had not
had so many in charge. There was in the
family Mr. and Mrs. Calomese, three sons
and three daughters. The sons were all
very fine looking gentlemen. The daughters
were three as handsome young ladies
as I ever saw. They were very good and
kind to me, and would have taught me to
read if they could have had their way.
But the best of all was my brother Robert
stole a march on that old fellow. You
know that boys and girls are very fond of
nice apples, and all other kinds of nice
fruit, and Robert knew that very well.
So he would get all the nice fruit he could,
and then he bought a book, and in the
evenings and on Sundays the white
children all played together. Then brother
Robert would say, “who wants some nice
apples?” They would come and say, “I
do.” “Well if you hear me say my
lesson I will give you this.” “All right.”
They would hear him from time to time,
and that is the way he learned to read in
the South. That is the way many poor
slaves learned to read and write. My
father could read, but I do know how he
learned. He never went to school, but
just listened to others when they were
reading, and that was all the chance he
had to learn. He was very glad and happy
to have a chance to learn to read the
Word of God. I have known both old
and young to come on Sundays to hear
him read the Bible. But we thank God
that we all can learn to read and write,
and need fear no one when we know that
we are doing right.
A word in reference to the farm where
I was reared. It was one of the finest
farms in the State of Virginia. I think
it contained 450 acres of land. There
were some of the best springs on it I ever
saw. There were excellent springs all
over the farm, and the best sulphur water
I ever drank. We never cared for ice in
summer when we drank of this water.
This farm was just six miles from
Winchester. My father was the farmer for
years, and raised some of the finest crops
of wheat I ever saw. He was considered
one of the best farmers in the county, and
is the same to-day. He now farms for
himself, and I think a man works much
better for himself than he can for another
man for nothing, and every just man will
say so too. If my father had been working
for himself no doubt all of his children
would have been well educated and
had good trades. All my brothers wanted
to learn mechanics' trades, so that they
would have something to depend on.
Many of us to-day if we could have had
that chance would be better off no doubt.
But we thank God to-day that we are this
well off. God has done a great deal for
the poor slave. While man said that we
should be slaves God said we should be
free. Now we are free. What is our
duty? To serve God with all the heart
that He may bless us while we live here
on earth. The man who does not fear
God has not much hope for eternal life.
The man who would deprive another of
learning to read and write, and learn
wisdom does not fear God. They took my
labor to educate their children, and then
laughed at me for being ignorant and
poor, and had not sense enough to know
that they were the cause of it. But I
tell you they have learned some sense
lately or lost what they did have. They
not only deprived the colored people of
education but poor white men and their
families. If you do not believe it just go
through the South and you will find them
very easily. But while that may have been
the case they have a better chance now,
for they say so themselves. I can say
one thing, and that is true I know. I
have a better education than some of my
white friends in the South who were not
slaves, and when they worked were paid
for their labor. I am glad that I have
the chance now, and will try to improve
it. I cannot tell you how happy I feel
when a day's work is done and I can go
to my home, sit down and take up the
papers and read them for my own satisfaction
and comfort. The best of all is I
can read the Word of God which will
guide me in the way he has commanded
me to go. When I first commenced to
learn to read I said if I could only learn
to read the Bible I would be satisfied. I
learned that first. Then I saw that a
business education was needed as well as
a Bible education. I saw it was necessary
to have both, and also to work every
day and study every night. That was the
reason I endeavored to accomplish my
desire. I saw others going to school, and
wanted to go too. I said, “how will I get
there.” I did not care how, just so I
got there. I was just thinking at that
time, but I can think now and go too.—
The best of all is I can go just as long as
I wish to. I do not think I will get very
sick of going like some boys do when they
are sent to school. Going to school to
get knowledge I consider one of the
greatest privileges that man can enjoy.
That was the reason the South fought
against the colored people learning to read
and write. But it is no use to fight against
God. When God said, “let my people go,”
they acted as if they did not hear. But
when God saw that we had been slaves
long enough he delivered us from slavery
as he has delivered other races and
nations. Look at the fathers and mothers
who suffered in slavery. All that could
be done to them was done. They were
murdered. Many of them were starved
to death. Husband and wife were parted.
Sister and brother were parted. Little
children were killed. For the sake of a
few dollars they were taken from the
mother when not more than two or three
weeks old, and then mother and father sold.
O how hard it was to see such things done
to human beings. But God, who was so
kind to us, came to our relief, made us
free men and free women. Now we are
free. What do we want. We want
education; we want protection; we want
plenty of work; we want good pay for it,
but not any more or less than any one
else; we want good trades, such as good
mechanics' trades; we just want a good
chance to get them, and then you will see
the down-trodden race rise up. I am one
of those that is trying to rise up, if I can,
by the help of God and my friends that
desire to me rise and be useful to my race.
I am trying to make myself as useful as I
can among my people, but feeling my
incapacity of doing so at this time I thought
by writing this little book and circulating
it among my friends it would help me
very much indeed. A great many of my
friends often say to me, “Adams, why
don't you make a start to do something
for yourself, and I will help your efforts.”
I thought that writing this little book
would be the best for me at this time, and
all I ask is encouragement from those that
desire to see me rise up and grow in
knowledge and intelligence, so that I may
pursue the course that I desire, and that
is to do what I can for my fellow man.
The great want among us is education,
and more particularly those who have
been slaves, and deprived of that great
blessing of being educated when young.
If our fathers and mothers did not have
the opportunity of learning when they
were young, they are glad to know that
their children have a chance to be
educated, and enjoy that great and glorious
privilege that so many were deprived of.
I love my privilege; I love my freedom;
I love protection; I love liberty, and love
industry. Let every man work for his
living as it is said, “let every one live by
the sweat of his brow.” But not “let
every one nor any one live off of the sweat
of another's brow without paying for it.”
Then you will be following the commandments
of God. Who ever heard of such
a thing as a man working for another for
nothing and he sitting down doing
nothing, but only violating the laws of
God and the just laws of the land, and
then say it is right. Many of them now,
when they have you to work for them, if
you stop one minute, they say the negro
is a cheat. But they could not see that
they cheated the negro. I do not think
that the negro should cheat, but think
the best policy is to be just and fair, and
then we can expect the same from others;
as we are taught in the Scriptures, “do
unto others as you would have them do
unto you.” If that had been practiced
for the past two hundred years my race
would be more intelligent to-day. But
none the less God will help the poor and
needy. He has done it within the past
few years. Some may say, how did he do
it? Why he made the slave free. He
brought the husband and wife together
that had been parted for years, the sister
and brother, and the mother and children
that had not been seen nor heard from for
twenty and twenty-five years. But now
what do we sing?
THE ONE FAMILY.
God of love, before Thee now,
Help us all in love to bow;
As the dews on Hermon fall,
May Thy blessing rest on all.
Let it soften every breast,
Hush ungentle thoughts to rest,—
Till we feel ourselves to be
Children of one family;—
Children who can look above,
For a heavenly Father's love;
Who shall meet, life journey past,
In that Father's house at last.
But, while thankfully we meet,
Thus, around Thy mercy-seat,
Yet, one humble, earnest plea,
Father, we would bring to Thee.
Far across the ocean's wave
Brethren, sisters too, we have;
But they have not heard of Thee:
Wilt Thou not their Father be?
Let them hear the Shepherd's voice,
And beneath his care rejoice;
And together let us come
To the fold: “there yet is room.”
We can sing those hymns better now
than we could in those days, when if you
said anything about God they would
laugh at you. But I think by this time
they begin to think that there is a God
as well as the slave did. They did not
believe that God is a spirit infinite, eternal
and unchangeable, in his being wisdom,
power, holiness, justice, goodness
and truth; and if they did they did not
show it by any means. If one of their
children got a little hurt all the negroes
on the plantation had to run and pick up
the child and kiss and pet it. It was
right; yet they could take our children
and sell them and you must not say a
word. I ask, could a man who believed
that there was a just God do such
outrageous crimes to human beings, and then
say it was right, and have the face to go
to church and come home and have the
slaves out on the back end of the farm
working on Sundays, and some of the
ministers going around telling the slaves
they must obey their master and mistress,
and all would be right. Well I wonder
if they are all right at this time. They
did not say much about Heavenly Master,
but it was master George, master
William and master John; but it was not
master John Quincy Adams. I think,
now-a-days, we only acknowledge our Heavenly
Master, who is our father and mother
too, and will protect us from such
outrage and cruelty as we were subject to.
I have seen droves of men, women and
children, all handcuffed together, going
to Richmond, Virginia, to be sold again,
and to hear their cries and groans would
make every tender-hearted man or woman
shed tears, but their masters' hearts were so
hard they never cried only when they did
not get the price they asked for what they
called their property, and then take the
money and dress off of it. What style
they put on off of the poor slave. But
what is it now? I say, go and work for
your money as I do, and then put on your
style, and every just and honest man will
say the same. There was a great deal of
style in the South. I have seen some of
the handsomest parties gather together in
the South that I ever saw in my life.—
They appeared in all their grandeur and
splendor, with gold and diamonds of the
the best quality, if it did come off of the
poor slave's labor; and what added to the
appearance of the magnificent sight, was
nine or ten colored men, dressed in the
very best, to wait on them, which was all
right. None but first-class went to these
parties. No poor “white trash,” as they
called them, went. But since the
negroes are all free, that style is broken up.
Look what their slaves done. They gave
that class all their pleasure throughout
the South, and they miss it very much
at present, for they say so themselves,
and I do not care if they do. They had
it long enough for nothing. I think that
everyone ought to work for their own
living, and those that do not wish to work
let them pay for it, but not put on style
off of the labor of others without paying
them for it. How the aristocracy of the
South has fallen since slavery has ceased.
I say, let them go to work and establish
manufactories of all kinds, like many of our
good men of the North, such as the
Hon. Wm. Colder, Mr. McCormick, Mr.
Eby, Hon. Simon Cameron, the great
railroad builder, and all other fine
improvements, and then pay the men for
their work, so that they can live too.
That is what I consider right. How
happy I feel these days when I know I am
reaping my labor. I feel almost as happy
as the President with a compensation of
twenty-five thousand dollars a year,
knowing that when my work is done the
pay is mine. Before the war those
gentlemen and ladies would come North
in style. Why do they not come now?
No negroes to sell. When they were
getting ready to come North some poor
mother or father, sister or brother, would
be sold to get money to take pleasure
with. But how is it now? Negroes are
not worth one penny. But I think I am
worth more than a penny. I think I am
worth more than a penny to the good and
kind gentleman who hires me now. It
is a nice thing to be free. Indeed you
would think so if you had been a slave.
Some of our friends ask, “how were you
treated in the South.” Well, I would
say, “very well, in some respects.” They
say, “well if I had been in your place I
would have stayed there.” This is what
I would say to them, “the place is vacant
yet; you can go and fill it, if you want
to,” and I never saw one yet that wanted
to fill it. I will just say that all of them
that want my place in the South can have
it, for I do not want it—I had it too long
already.
A word for Winchester, Virginia. It
is one of the handsomest little towns I
ever saw, and is not surpassed by any in
Pennsylvania, New York, Ohio, or any of
the Western States. Winchester is
situated in the beautiful Shenandoah valley,
where so many battles were fought during
the late rebellion. I saw some very
sorrowful sights in that valley during the
war. In Winchester there were some
very fine dwelling houses and churches,
a very fine court house, but not quite as
fine as Judge Pearson's court house in
Harrisburg, Pa.; some very fine hotels,
the best one was called Taylor's Hotel,
where all the “big bugs” stopped; and I
will tell you who else stopped there—
those great and unthinking gentlemen
who called themselves Negro Traders.
You could see them walking around with
their bags of silver and gold that they
had received from selling the poor slaves.
But how is it now. Some of them look
worse at this time than any of our
Pennsylvania farmers ever look. They have
no money, no way to make it, and too lazy
to work for it, and when men do work
for them one-half of them will not pay for
it, and that is the way the great gentlemen
are living to-day. If they would see
a man come from the North it was “poor
Northern white trash.” I do not much
blame them for it, for some of them did
come down there and acted just as bad as
some of them that were reared there.—
Some of them would almost bow to the
ground to them, and at the same time
received no thanks for it. Such was the
case in those days. But how is it now?
Every man is free to go where he wishes
to. If a man is poor, let him be poor
until he can get rich off of his own labor.
A great many of these kings and princes
thought that this would always be so.—
But when I think of the 19th chapter of
Proverbs: “Better is the poor that
walketh in his integrity than he that is
perverse in his life, and is a fool. Also
that the soul be without knowledge it is
not good, and he that hasteth with his feet
sinneth. The foolishness of man
perverteth his way, and his heart fretteth
against the Lord. Wealth maketh many
friends, but the poor is separated from
his neighbor. A false witness shall not
be unpunished and he that speaketh lies
shall not escape. Many will entreat the
favor of the prince, and every man is a
friend to him that giveth gifts. He that
getteth wisdom loveth his own soul. He
that keepeth understanding shall find
good. Delight is not seemly for a fool,
much less for a servant to have rule over
princes. A foolish son is the calamity of
his father, and the contentions of a wife
are a continual dropping. House and
riches are the inheritance of fathers, and
a prudent wife is from the Lord.
Slothfulness casteth into a deep sleep, and an
idle soul shall suffer hunger. He that
keepeth the commandment keepeth his
own soul, but he that despiseth his ways
shall die. He that hath pity upon the
poor lendeth unto the Lord, and that he
hath given will he pay him again. Hear
counsel and fear instruction that thou
mayest be wise in thy latter end.—
There are many devices in a man's heart,
nevertheless the counsel of the Lord, that
shall stand. Desire of a man is his kindness,
and a poor man is better than a liar.
He that wasteth his father and chaseth
away his mother is a son that causeth
shame, and bringeth reproof. An
ungodly witness scorneth judgment, and the
mouth of the wicked devoureth iniquity.
Judgment is prepared for scorners, and
stripes for the back of fools.”
God showed these wicked people these
things, but they would not hear them. I
often think that it looked very much like
the way of slavery. When God saw that
man would not obey him be showed them
what he could do. In a short time over four
and a half millions slaves were set free.
I feel more and more thankful every day
I live to know that I am a free man, and
can do as I wish just so long as I do what is
right. I trust I am trying to do what is
right as near as I can, as a Christian and
as a citizen. It is not that I desire to
publish my profession, for actions speak
louder than words. It is because I am
thankful to Almighty God for what He
has done for me and my race, and for
what He is still doing. Look at the
fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers,
that are still coming and finding their
children that were sold for years. Not
long ago a husband found his dear wife
that had been sold for many years. I
only trust in God that I may find my dear
sister that was sold before the war.
I must now tell you what a very sad
and heart-broken boy I was before the
war. In 1857 my twin brother to me,
Aaron A. Adams, and my sister, Sallie
Ann Adams, were sold from us at
Winchester, Va. I will just say that any
human reason can imagine how I felt to
leave a dear brother and sister, but more
particularly the twin to myself, who was
taken and sold far away in the South. I
thought, though but a boy, if I could just
die to get rid of my sorrow and distress, I
would be satisfied. I could do no good,
but suffered day and night for months and
years. Two or three years after I heard
from my dear brother. He had been sold
seven times, and was bought every time
for a house servant. The last time he
was sold a gentleman bought him in
Memphis, Tenn. There he lived for
some time, and when he got a chance he
wrote to us. When the first letter came
I was away from home six or eight miles.
My dear father and mother sent me word
that they had received a letter from Aaron.
Well, my dear friends, you may know how
I felt. I cried, I prayed, I done everything
I could. I felt as if I could run
that eight miles without stopping to rest.
I waited until Sunday morning, and then
started for home. When near home I
felt very weak, the reason was I thought
it might be a mistake. When I got
home my mother said, “my son, here is a
letter from poor Aaron.” What a rejoicing
time we had that Sunday. My father
and oldest brother could read print, but
not writing. I got a friend to read it for
me, and to write one to him. I received
a letter from him soon afterwards and his
picture. For a long time I did not hear
from him, but believe that some of the
white folks got our letters and kept them,
for my brother told me since that he
often wrote me. It was eight years from
that time till I heard from him again.
In the fall of 1867, Mr. Charles Mann,
the proprietor's son of the Jones House,
Harrisburg, Pa., to my surprise said,
“John Q., have you a brother in
Memphis, Tenn.” I said, “yes, sir, some years
ago.” He said, “I saw him there a
month ago, and I thought it was you, and
said, ‘John Q., what are you doing here?’ ”
“He said, ‘my name is not John, but I
had a brother named John Q. Adams, at
Winchester, Va. I was sold 12 or 13
years ago.’ ” Mr. Mann said he could
hardly believe him. My brother declared
his name was Aaron A. Adams. Mr.
Mann said, “there was a young man
living with my father in Harrisburg
named J. Q. Adams. It must be your
brother.” When Mr. Mann came home
he told me all about it. I could write my
own letters then. I wrote to my brother.
I received a letter from him containing
his picture. You could not tell it from
mine.
On the 28th of July, 1868, he came to
this city to see me. Every one that saw
him thought it was me. To show you
how much he looked like me I will relate
an incident that occurred when he was
here. I went to a store and bought some
articles, and there was some money coming
to me. He was going down street and
when passing the store the storekeeper
called him in and said, “Adams here is
your change.” Aaron took it and brought
it home and gave it to me. I thank God
to-day that we can write to each other,
and visit each other when we wish to.
But still I sorrow yet. My dear sister,
Sallie Ann Adams, who was sold with
brother Aaron, has not been heard from
yet, but we still hope that God will bless
us with that opportunity to meet her on
earth. If not, this is our hope in the
last days.
Dear sister of Zion, from the dust
Exalt thy fallen head;
Again in thy Redeemer trust,—
He calls thee from the dead.
Awake, awake, put on thy strength,
Thy beautiful array;
The day of freedom dawns at length,—
The Lord's appointed day.
Rebuild thy walls, thy bounds enlarge,
And send thy heralds forth;
Say—to the south,—Give up thy charge!
And,—Keep not back O north!
They come, they come: thine exiled bands,
Where'er they rest or roam,
Have heard thy voice in distant lands,
And hasten to their home.
Thus, though the universe shall burn,
And God his works destroy,
With songs thy ransom'd shall return,
And everlasting joy.
But we do expect to meet our dear sister
on earth yet. We expect every day to
hear some one come and say, “your
sister is coming.” That will be joyful
news to hear. But God knows what is
best, and we are willing to wait on him,
and if it is his will for us to see our dear
sister we will see her. If not, we will
not until the day of final consummation.
There we will meet to part no more.—
When we parted, she said to me, “good
bye, my dear brother, if I do not see you
any more I hope to meet you in heaven.”
How many tears I have shed since that
day to see my sister. I would give
anything in this world to see her once more
on earth. I hope and trust the day has
passed away that father and mother,
sister and brother, and children will be
parted until God himself parts them.
Then we can feel better satisfied when
our Heavenly Master does it. But now
we can sing these songs of joy to
ourselves.
NOW A SONG OF JOY.
Great God of nations, now to Thee,
Our hymn of gratitude we raise;
That thou hast made this nation free,
We offer Thee our song of praise.
Thy name we bless, Almighty God,
For all the kindness Thou hast shown
To this fair land, by pilgrims trod.—
This land we fondly call our own.
Here, freedom spreads its banner wide,
And casts its soft and hallowed ray:
Here, Thou our fathers' steps didst guide,
In safety, through their dangerous way.
We praise Thee, that the gospel light,
Through all our land, its radiance sheds,
Dispels the shades of error's night,
And heavenly blessings round us spreads.
Bright hopes are coming now. The
war commenced. I was the house
servant, but was taken into the army for
some months. You know what army
that was without me telling you anything
about it. I was taken sick and came
home. Both of their sons went into the
army. They left my father's family home
to take care of old mistress and young
misses. Well we remained there and
took good care of them for a long time.
We protected them many times from
outrages that would have been committed
upon them. We knew how we were
treated, but father told us that we must
be good to them, work for them in the
day-time and take care of them at night.
Should you ask them to-day they will tell
you the same. All this was done when
their sons were in the Rebel army.
I could tell some very exciting facts if
I had room in this little book. At some
future time I will give you all the true
incidents that I have secured for my large
edition, when I will be able to write more
correctly than now.
On Saturday, June 27, 1862, we left
old mistress, and young miss, and every
other kind of miss. The Rebels getting
too hot in old Winchester, we made for
the old Keystone State, came to
Greencastle, remained there a few weeks, left
for Chambersburg, next for Carlisle, and
then to Harrisburg. Father and mother,
four brothers and two sisters came. I
am told that when old mistress got up in
the morning, found all the negroes gone,
they thought that the devil had got into
them negroes last night. Every one is
gone, and where are they gone to? I
suppose they have gone with them devilish
Yankees. But here is what they said, if
we would come back they would set us
all free. I had heard that too often, so
I did not listen to that kind of talk. I
thought that they had had their time, and
this was my time. So off we went, and
if it had not been for Gen. Geary we would
all have been taken down South, and never
would have saw each other again. His
army was there, and the orders were that
no one could leave Winchester. My
ather went to the General and told him all
bout it, and he was so kind as to give us
a pass through to Pennsylvania. Two
days after that the Rebels came for us,
but we were all gone. Ah! how we did
thank Gen. Geary for that philanthropic
act; and whenever I see the Governor
or any of his family I think of it, and
pray that God will bless him for that
kind act to us in time of our need. I did
not know that it was Gen. Geary until we
came here. Father told me it was. What
might have been the result no one knows
but God himself. But now we can use
this language, as I believe that God
intended that the Governor should help us
through that trouble.
To Thee, our blessed country's Friend,
Our hymn to-day shall rise;
Oh, from the heavenly courts descend,
And bless the sacrifice.
While through our land fair freedom's song,
Our fathers raise to Thee,
Our voices shall the notes prolong:
We children, too, are free!
The past, with blessings from Thy hand,
Was richly scattered o'er,—
As numerous as the countless sand,
That spreads the ocean-shore.
Oh, may the future be as bright;
Nor be Thy favors less,—
Resplendent with the glorious light
Of peace and happiness.
On earth prepare us for the skies;
And, when our life is o'er,
Let us to purer mansions rise,
And praise Thee evermore.
I have often thought that if I could do
as think what a satisfaction it would be
to me. What is there more desirable
than wisdom. Nothing is more
commendable, nothing more worthy of a great
and illustrious man than mildness and
clemency. A shameful flight from death
is worse than any death. What is more
disgraceful than inconstancy, levity and
fickleness. Nothing is more delightful
than true glory. Nothing is more friendly
to me than solitude. My country is
much dearer to me than my life. No
place ought to be more pleasing to you
than your country. What is better in
man than a sagacious and good mind.—
What can we call more wretched than
folly. What is more pleasing than literary
ease. Nothing is more inconstant
than the common people. Nothing is
more uncertain than the inclination of
mankind. Nothing, believe me, is more
handsome, nothing more beautiful, nothing
more lovely, than virtue. There is nothing
more pleasing to me than the light of
truth. But nothing is more glorious
than to know that I am a free man, and
still more so, I have a chance for
education.
My father bought property in Harrisburg
and settled here. Then we all got
places to work at. As I was a house
servant at home, that is for old mistress, my
father took me to Mr. Herr's Hotel.—
They employed me, and I was very glad
of it. The next thing I wanted was
education. I bought myself some books,
and when my work was done I would
study my book. The ladies and gentlemen
would notice me in passing, and ask
me what I was doing. I said, “trying to
learn to read.” Sometimes they would
take the book and hear me say my lesson.
I was always ready to do anything for
them when they desired it, and when
they offered to pay me I would say, “I
don't want pay. Hear me say this lesson.”
And they would kindly do it for me.
Mr. Herr was kind to me, and that was
the first place I had any lessons given
to me.
I left Mr. Herr for some months, and went
to Cincinnati, Ohio. When I returned I
went back to Mr. Herr again. After the
Herr Hotel closed went to the Jones House
and lived there for some time. Then I
went to Elmira, N. Y., to the Brainard
House, and lived there some time. While
living in Elmira, to my great surprise, a
gentleman I worked for failed in business,
and of course I lost many months wages,
which would be a great help to me now
in getting an education. But that is not
as bad as working all your first days for
nothing. I am thankful that it is no
worse than it is. I am glad that God
spared me to see this much enjoyment of
freedom and liberty, and we bless him for
this great privilege.
Mr. Herr's family consisted of Mrs.
Herr, one son, one daughter, Miss F. H.,
Mr. R. Herr. In Mr. Mann's family
were two daughters, one son, the son
who found my brother Aaron A. Adams.
The gentleman who I lived with in
Elmira had four sons and three daughters.
They were all good and kind to me.—
They would hear me say my lesson too.
When I returned to Harrisburg again I
was engaged by a party of members of
the Legislature to wait upon them during
the winter. Then I went to the Bolton
House, which is one of the best hotels in
the State of Pennsylvania. I lived there
for some time. Mr. Bolton, like all good
business men, wanted his work done, and
paid for it when done. In Mr. Bolton's
family were two daughters and two sons,
very fine children, and a great comfort to
their parents. The house is the most
convenient in the city of Harrisburg, and
their table is always supplied with the
best.
When I left there I went to his Honor,
Judge Pearson. I am still living there,
but as things change these days so quick,
I do not know how long I will be with
his Honor. But one thing I will say, and
that is, of all the gentlemen I ever lived
with Judge Pearson leads off, and if there
is such a thing as a high seat in heaven, I
think that Mrs. C. E. B. will get it. I make
this not as a flattering assertion, but
actions speak louder than words. When my
father came to this city in 1862 the Hon.
gentleman, Mr. J. H. Briggs, who lives
in that magnificent dwelling on Front
street, was one of the gentlemen who gave
my father and brothers such good advice.
When we first came here my father and
brothers worked at the commencement of
that fine dwelling he now lives in. My
father will never forget the good advice
he gave us when we were strangers and
had just made our way from slavery.
God bless that kind gentleman who gives
good advice to the poor and down-trodden
people. Mr. Briggs' family consists of
Mrs. J. A. B., Miss B. L. B., Miss R.
T. B., Mrs. M. H. P.'s son, Mr. Joseph
B., a great comfort to their dear parents.
As I pass on and try to do the best I
can, my feelings are very often hurt, and
more particularly so when I am trying to
do all I can to please people. Not a
hundred years ago there was a
kindhearted gentleman made mention of a
favor in relation to myself, when the reply
was, “don't do it. Anything is good
enough for a negro.” I will just say
here that if the negro gets all that is good
enough for him he will be very well satisfied.
Such insults as these are evidence
enough for me to believe that if they had
the chance they would soon establish
slavery again. But it will never be in the
United States. However it is all right,
and we must expect such things. I
often think that some persons treat the
negro as some lazy men do, who pretend
to be looking for work, and praying all
the time that they may never find it. So
it is with some persons in regard to the
negro. They make a big fuss about the
poor negro, and want him to come up, and
all the time praying to God that he may
never get up. They need not come to me
with that kind of deceit. Actions
always speak louder than words.
Some time ago, in our city, a very
unjust action was done in my presence by
one who I thought was a Christian and a
gentleman too. One day two little boys
were fighting, one colored, the other white.
The white boy was in the fault. When
the white boy struck the colored boy he
he returned the blow. This so-called
Christian picked up a big stone and
threw it at the colored boy, and said,
“kill the negro,” just because he was
taking his own part. Such Christians,
such gentlemen. Well you may be able
to fool man, but God you can not. On
Sundays you can see him going to church
with a face on him as long as your
arm, and if he would ever become a
preacher I presume his text would be,
“My dear brothers, whenever you get
the chance kill the negro as dead as a
door nail, and you will be saved.” It
may be said by some, “is this Adams'
life.” Well it is. For this was done
in my lifetime. However, Christian,
if you think so it is all right. But there
will be a stopping place for you some of
these days. I am very sorry I have to
speak of these things to you. But my
friends they are all true, and I want
the true friends to know them as well as
those that do them. They say we must
take a little bitter with the sweet, but I
think it is more bitter than sweet
sometimes. So much for the good Christians
to my race.
In looking around the city of Harrisburg
and seeing those fine dwellings
on Front and other streets, which Messrs.
Colder, McCormick, Cameron, Eby,
Gilbert, Briggs, Kelker, and many others
have built, I know when those fine
houses were finished that they did not
have to sell a poor slave to pay for
them. They make their money by
their own skill and intellect, and not
by selling and distressing father and
mother, sisters and brothers. They do not
build many fine houses in the South now.
Why? They have no negroes to sell.
When I was down South, not long ago,
I will tell you how it looked. I went to
see old mistress, and things did not look
like they did when I left there. No, sir.
Old mistress did not look so neither, and
young mistress neither, and I will never
tell you how old master looked. They
used to talk about their blood and ancestors.
Well if ancestors do not do any
more for the South during the next ten
years than they did the past ten years, I
do not want anything to do with ancestors.
It was negro ancestors that kept
them up.
Some of my friends have given me
recommendations for honesty. Well I
do not know that I ever stole anything
very valuable but one thing, and I think
that every just man will say that I
done right. In 1862 I stole John Q.
Adams from Mr. George F. Calomese, of
Winchester, Va. They valued me at
$2,000. At that rate I stole $2,000.—
My father and mother live at Winchester
now. They think a great deal of them,
but if father was farming for them instead
of for himself no doubt they would think
more of them. Old mistress said she
will give any of us a recommendation at
any time, if we want it. So if any one
wants to know anything about John Q.
Adams before the war let them write to
Mrs. Lucy A. Calomese, Winchester, Va.
Old master died about six months ago.
I hope he is in heaven, but not for the good
he done me. I have forgiven him for all
he done to me when a slave. We are
taught that we must forgive, but believe
I cannot forget. I do not think that
I will forget my sister that was sold, and
a good many other things that were done
to me, but old things have passed away
and new ones have come to hand.—
Sometimes when I look around and see
what God has done for me I have to shed
tears to think how kind he was to set us
at liberty. Not only has he set the colored
race at liberty but white races too. I am
glad to-day to know that the United States
of America is free and will protect me
and all my people if they obey the laws.
I believe if we will do what is right we
will not only be free from slavery in the
terrestrial world but we will be accepted
in the celestial country, where there is
no slavery, no sorrow, and no killing of
negroes as our Christian friend said should
be done. I hope he will get converted
before that time comes, for it is said that
the righteous will scarcely be saved, and
what will become of the ungodly sinner.
So negro killer you better get ready in
time. Do not put it off too long. Start
now. So much for that.
I would say again to the many friends
that I have found since I came to Harrisburg
and other places in the North, I
truly and gratefully thank you all for your
kindness in giving me employment, and
advising me to study my book, which I
was deprived of when in slavery. I hope
God will bless you all for it. I have
found many friends among the good
citizens of Harrisburg, and the great State
of Pennsylvania. I will give you more
and better statements in my next edition
as I will be enabled then to do better
than at present.
As I have the three amendments to the
Constitution of the United States, I insert
them in my book, so my friends can see
them; also the various States and
Territories, and the number of white and
colored people in the nation. As a general
thing when a man is striving to come up
and knows of anything to help him, he
will bring it forward, so I present to you
a few testimonials from those who have
known me since I was delivered from
slavery and made a citizen, and a
law-abiding one, and I hope always to feel
that way.
My friends, this book was written at
night—every line of it after I had
performed the duties of the day, and returned
to my quiet fireside. In thinking over
my past life it was a great pleasure to me
to write this little book of true facts,
which I witnessed during my life while in
slavery, and since in the enjoyment of
the blessings of liberty as a freeman.
Now, in conclusion, I hope and trust
that the many friends will not look at this
little book carelessly because it is from the
hands of a slave. The slave who
publishes this book knows that if the strong
give a word of encouragement to the poor
and oppressed ones it will help them very
much indeed. I know that the many
words of kindness from the good people
of the North have helped me on thus far.
I truly thank you all for it, and pray that
God will bless you all, both in this life
and that which is to come.
I am, truly yours,
J. Q. ADAMS.
HARRISBURG, Pa., Dec. 14, 1871.