I've been dipping my toes into poetry. I'm currently working through the poems of Phillis Wheatley. Phillis Wheatley was brought to the American Colonies in 1761 when the slave ship Phillis docked in Boston Harbour. Phillis was named after that ship, and she got the name Wheatley from her purchasers, the Wheatley family. Naming an enslaved person in this manner was a common practice. The Wheatley's were a wealthy Quaker family, they instructed Phillis who showed she had a talent for languages, reading and writing. In 1773 Phillis succeeded in getting a book of poetry Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral published in London. The book, which I am working through, won her praise in high society and shortly after led to her emancipation by the Wheatley's who had enslaved her.
During the years of the American revolution she sent a poem to George Washington, the following words were written in 1775.
Celestial choir! enthron’d in realms of light,
Columbia’s scenes of glorious toils I write.
While freedom’s cause her anxious breast alarms,
She flashes dreadful in refulgent arms.
See mother earth her offspring’s fate bemoan,
And nations gaze at scenes before unknown!
See the bright beams of heaven’s revolving light
Involved in sorrows and the veil of night!
The Goddess comes, she moves divinely fair,
Olive and laurel binds Her golden hair:
Wherever shines this native of the skies,
Unnumber’d charms and recent graces rise.
Muse! Bow propitious while my pen relates
How pour her armies through a thousand gates,
As when Eolus heaven’s fair face deforms,
Enwrapp’d in tempest and a night of storms;
Astonish’d ocean feels the wild uproar,
The refluent surges beat the sounding shore;
Or think as leaves in Autumn’s golden reign,
Such, and so many, moves the warrior’s train.
In bright array they seek the work of war,
Where high unfurl’d the ensign waves in air.
Shall I to Washington their praise recite?
Enough thou know’st them in the fields of fight.
Thee, first in peace and honors—we demand
The grace and glory of thy martial band.
Fam’d for thy valour, for thy virtues more,
Hear every tongue thy guardian aid implore!
One century scarce perform’d its destined round,
When Gallic powers Columbia’s fury found;
And so may you, whoever dares disgrace
The land of freedom’s heaven-defended race!
Fix’d are the eyes of nations on the scales,
For in their hopes Columbia’s arm prevails.
Anon Britannia droops the pensive head,
While round increase the rising hills of dead.
Ah! Cruel blindness to Columbia’s state!
Lament thy thirst of boundless power too late.
Proceed, great chief, with virtue on thy side,
Thy ev’ry action let the Goddess guide.
A crown, a mansion, and a throne that shine,
With gold unfading, WASHINGTON! Be thine.
Washington was an admirer of Phillis's talents and invited her to visit his estate, I do not know if she took him up on that offer. She married a fellow freed slave John Peters, sadly their attempts to build a family did not work out, none of their three children survived and Phillis herself would die in 1784 aged 31.
The book is an interesting collection, overall it gives an impression of a sincere convert to Christianity, though the poem "On Being Brought From Africa to America" was somewhat disturbing.
It's a bit like reading a poem by an Irishman in 1865 praising the famine because it prompted his conversion to a Protestant church*. Still, it's her life and her experience, and as sanitised as her retelling of the slave trade is it does still chastise racial prejudice, albeit along sectarian lines.
Much more to my tastes is "Ode to Neptune"
Ode to Neptune
On Mrs. W⸺’s Voyage to England
I
While raging tempests shake the shore, While Aelus’ thunders round us roar, And sweep impetuous o’er the plain Be still, O tyrant of the main; Nor let thy brow contracted frowns betray, While my Susanna skims the wat’ry way.
II
The Pow’r propitious hears the lay, The blue-ey’d daughters of the sea With sweeter cadence glide along, And Thames responsive joins the song. Pleas’d with their notes Sol sheds benign his ray, And double radiance decks the face of day.
III
To court thee to Britannia’s arms Serene the climes and mild the sky, Her region boasts unnumber’d charms, Thy welcome smiles in ev’ry eye. Thy promise, Neptune keep, record my pray’r, Not give my wishes to the empty air.
Boston, October 10, 1772.
It's an interesting book, written by a very interesting author. Though, it forces me to reflect on how many others fine and interesting works and lives were taken and wasted in the pursuit of power and profit. And I also wonder how many lives are still being ground down in the illegal slave economy today.
And I think Phillis Wheatley exposes Washington and the other enslaving rulers of the society of the time for the self-interested charlatans that they were. Much ink was spilt convincing society that the people of Africa were backward, primitive, not quite full human beings, in need of tutelage and direction. All to distract from the casual and yet brutal violence necessary to reduce a human being to property. But many of these same purchasers of humans were willing to praise and enjoy the works of one of their number while still owning many more and subjecting them to hyper economic exploitation.
The cover of Wheatley's first printings of her book of poems explicitly mentioned her legal status as a subject of the Wheatley family, and it includes a letter from her owner describing her conditions. Washington et al. knew she was enslaved when she wrote the words they admired, and this did not lead to an epiphany regarding their own treatment of their property either in emancipation nor in reforms to how they treated their enslaved and captive labour forces.
*During the great potato famine, several religious relief organisations would only give aid to protestants.