A Matter of the Soul

by Claudia Wair

1762—Falmouth, Virginia

Elias Montgomery led a thoroughly satisfactory life. He worked hard as the customs administrator in Falmouth, and amassed fortune enough to marry a perfectly suitable woman. His growing income allowed him to purchase two slaves: one to help his wife with the house and their children, and one to do the heavy work at the customhouse.

Every morning except Sunday, Elias crossed Cambridge Street to the customhouse and began the day’s work. He supervised the clerks who handled the paperwork and payment for goods on the incoming ships and barges that sailed up the Rappahannock River. The ships hailed from up and down the Atlantic coast, as well as from England and Africa.

On Sundays, Elias served as the Clerk of the local Quaker Meetinghouse. The silent worship of that denomination always made him feel close to God, and the religion’s principles of peace and simplicity resonated with him.

One morning when he arrived at the customhouse, a strange man waited at the door, dressed in gray travel-stained clothes.

Elias sniffed. “Yes? What can I do for you?”

“Elias Montgomery?” the man asked.

“Yes.”

“I am John Woolman, a minister from Philadelphia, here to visit with local Friends.” He handed Elias a letter of introduction from the northern Quakers.

Elias read the letter and his countenance changed. “Ah! Welcome! You will stay with me, of course. Allow me to open the customhouse, then I will guide you to my home.”

After getting the business of the day started, Elias led John to his house nearby.

 “Martha!” he called as they entered the house. His wife soon came to greet them, followed by a young slave woman.

After Elias introduced John to his wife, she turned to give instructions to the slave, whom she called Anna. Elias noticed the look of disquiet on his visitor’s face. When Anna left the room, he turned to John.

“Is there anything amiss, Friend?”

“I am only dismayed to see that you keep slaves,” he said, frowning.

Elias was confused. “Is it not a common practice amongst Friends in the colonies?”

“Yes, I am sad to say. A very common practice.” He opened his traveling bag, pulled out a pamphlet, and handed it to Elias.

“This,” said John, “is what I am here to preach about.”

Elias looked at the title: Some Considerations on the Keeping of Negroes. His shoulders stiffened.

“Please,” said John, “read this when you are at liberty.”

“I will,” Elias replied tightly, and left his guest.

Back at the customhouse, he left all but the most urgent matters to his clerks as he sat at his desk and read the pamphlet. In it, John outlined why holding slaves was not only a sin, but had a deleterious effect on the moral and spiritual condition of slave owners.

John said that it was simply wrong to take liberty and justice away from innocent people, and that there was no valid excuse for doing so.

Elias looked at George, the slave who worked in the customhouse, and found himself uncomfortable.

Shipments of slaves came through the customhouse, and Elias could not imagine the colonies functioning without them. Slave labor was what made the enterprise profitable. Slave labor made his own business profitable. How could he survive without it?

Elias returned to the pamphlet. John was calling into question the foundation of the entire economy. He was, no doubt, a man of good intentions, but to destroy the fabric of economic and social norms was too much. Elias put the pamphlet away and turned his focus to his business.

On Sunday, Elias listened with a skeptical ear as John addressed the topic of slavery at the Quaker Meeting. But the minister spoke with eloquence and feeling, and his arguments were sound. Elias felt a strong disquiet.

That evening at dinner, as Anna served them, John opened his purse and took out several coins. “Anna,” he said, “This is for you, for the services you have provided me.”

Anna was surprised and curtsied as she accepted the coins. “Thank you, sir.”

After she left the room, John turned to Elias. “You have read my treatise on the subject and have heard me speak at length. I beg of you: free your slaves. If you must keep servants, then pay them for their labor.”

Elias was silent for a long time, his eyes focused on the plate before him. At last, he looked up at John and spoke. “You have given me much to think about, Friend.”

As the week went by, Elias’s arguments against John’s philosophy fell apart one by one. He debated the topic with the traveling minister, and found himself losing each time. He had been making excuses—weak excuses, he realized now—for why slavery was acceptable, even good for the enslaved. 

 On the last night of John’s visit, Elias hardly slept. It was now clear to him that slaveholding was a stain on his soul. 

He thought about his situation. Could he afford to keep Anna and George as servants with a fair wage? An equally pressing question occurred to him: how could he, with this fresh perspective, continue to work in a business that supported the slave trade?

In the morning, John walked with Elias to the crossroads before he left to travel southward. “Have you thought about my words, Friend Elias?”

“I have thought of nothing else,” he replied. Before he could change his mind, he spoke. “I will free my slaves, John Woolman, and I will seek employment elsewhere. Someplace that does not participate in the trade.”

John smiled. “Then it is well with your soul, my Friend.” He turned and set upon his path.

It was as though a weight had lifted from Elias’ heart, and with this new lightness of spirit, he drew up the manumission papers. It was his greatest delight to tell George and Anna the news.

After freeing those he had enslaved, he set about persuading the members of the Quaker Meeting to do the same. He pressed the issue until all complied. In time, the whole community became abolitionists, vocally decrying the institution.

Elias spent his life working to end the evil practice, and though he did not live to see his goal achieved, he cherished every small victory. And at his life’s end, he felt certain he could meet his God with a clear conscience, without the stain of slavery on his soul.

About the author

Claudia Wair is a technical writer and editor from Virginia. Her work has appeared in Tangled Locks Journal, JMWW, Typehouse Literary Magazine, and elsewhere.  

About the illustration

The ilustration is On Board a Slaveship, engraving, ca. 1835, by Joseph Swain. In the public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.