My musings on the hypocrisy of the history of abolitionism

This week, I’d like to talk about a few historical observations I’ve noticed in one of my classes this semester. Usually, I try not to have quasi-pointless and redundant sentences like the one preceding this, but it’s the only way I can think of to introduce such a notorious topic. What I’m going to be talking about will concern slavery in U.S.

Now, if the word slavery triggers you or rouses your blood, then relax, or realize that you’re an adult now and an important part of being an adult is being able to talk and think about topics that make you uncomfortable. Regardless, I will not bring up touchy topics like the Confederate flag or the lasting effects of slavery. Like I said before, these are just observations, and I find them very interesting.

Back to my point, I’m taking a course essentially focused on U.S. history, culture, politics and things of that sort in the 19th century. We focus our attention on things like the Industrial Age, transcendentalism, abolitionism, among other topics; it’s not so much about timelines as it is about ideas. Recently, our class finished our first assigned text, Harriet E. Wilson’s “Our Nig: or, Sketches from the Life of a Free Black.” The book was originally published in 1859 — two years prior to the beginning of the Civil War: a time when discussions of abolishing slavery were at their peak.

However, before we get into the meat and potatoes of this piece, let us sip our stew and savor our seasonings first.

Wilson’s book is a fiction piece that is arguably more fact than fiction. The book is based on her life experiences and the only fictional aspect present in the novel is that the names of the people she interacted with are changed to protect them and herself. Frado, Wilson’s character in the novel, is the daughter of a black man and a white woman. Frado is given to the Bellmonts, a rich white family, to be raised as her own family can no longer care for her.

While Frado may not be a slave — since she was born in the North and is free — as an indentured servant to the Bellmonts, she is treated like one. The antagonist of the story, Mrs. Bellmont, is a malignant and obstinate individual who cannot stomach the sight of a black person existing alongside white people. At any point in the story when she can, Mrs. Bellmont takes it upon herself to beat Frado in the most horrifying ways possible — a graphic and all too familiar image.

Since the story is based on Wilson’s life, it’s been discovered in the following years that the Bellmonts were known and vocal abolitionists in real life. Yet, like many abolitionists at the time, the Bellmonts themselves expressed a confusing concern.  

This concern was that abolitionists wanted to abolish slavery in the South, but in the North, as exemplified by Mrs. Bellmonts daughter and spitting image, “I don’t want a n----- ‘round me.” Many abolitionists would cry for slavery to be exempt but shiver at the idea of befriending, talking, sitting next to or even existing alongside a black person.

This is my observation, and still, after days of thinking about it, I’m perplexed.

Why ask for the bettering of people by law if you’re going to hurt them yourself?

What was the purpose of being pro-abolitionism, but anti-black?

I can draw similarities to our current era, but for the life of me, I’m still so lost at this reasoning.

James Hardison is a UF English sophomore. His column appears on Thursdays.