CONSEQUENCES OF THE FUGITIVE SLAVE ACT.
And, first, as to its consequences. In the history of the African race these can never be forgotten. Since the first authorization of the slave-trade, nothing so terrible had fallen upon this unhappy people, whether we contemplate its cruelty to individuals or the wide-spread proscription which it launched against all whose skins were not white.
It is sad to know of suffering anywhere, even by a single lowly person. But our feelings are enhanced, when individual sorrows are multiplied, and the blow descends upon a whole race. History, too, takes up the grief. The Jews expelled from Spain by merciless decree, the Huguenots driven from France by the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, our own Puritan fathers compelled to exile for religious Freedom,—all these receive a gushing sympathy, and we detest the tyrants. These were persecutions for religion, in days of religious bigotry and darkness. But an American Congress, in this age of Christian light, not in the fanaticism of religion, but in the fanaticism of Slavery, did a deed that finds companionship only with these enormities of the past. The Fugitive Slave Act carried distress and terror to every person with African blood in the Free States. All were fluttered, as the arbitrary edict commenced its swoop over the land. The very rumor that a slave-hunter was in town so shook the nerves of a sensitive freeman on whom was the ban of color, that he died. To large numbers the Act was a decree of instant expulsion from the Republic, under penalty of Slavery to them and their posterity forever. Driven by despair, as many as six thousand Christian men and women, meritorious persons,—a larger band than that of the escaping Puritans,—precipitately fled from homes they had established, opportunities of usefulness they had found, and the regard of fellow-citizens, until, at last, in an unwelcome Northern climate, beneath the British flag, with glad voices of Freedom on their lips, though with the yearnings of exile in their hearts, they were happy in swelling the chant, “God save the Queen!”
Such an injustice cannot be restricted in influence. Everywhere it is an extension of Slavery, with all the wrong, violence, and brutality which are the natural outgrowth of Slavery. The Free States became little better than a huge outlying plantation quivering under the lash of the overseer; or rather, they were a diversified hunting-ground for the flying bondmen, resounding always with the “halloo” of the huntsman. There seemed no rest. The chase was hardly over at Boston before it was started at Philadelphia, Syracuse, or Buffalo, and then again raged furiously across the prairies of the West. Not an instance occurred which did not shock the conscience of the country and sting it with anger. Records of the time attest the accuracy of this statement. Perhaps there is no example in history where human passion showed itself in grander forms, or eloquence lent all her gifts more completely to the demands of Liberty, than the speech of an eminent character, now dead and buried in a foreign land,[373] denouncing the capture of Thomas Sims at Boston, and invoking the judgment of God and man upon the agents in this wickedness. In the history of Humanity this great effort cannot be forgotten. But every case pleaded with an eloquence of its own, until, at last, occurred one of those tragedies darkening the heavens and crying out with a voice that will be heard. It was the voice of a mother standing over her murdered child. Margaret Garner escaped from Slavery with three children, but was overtaken at Cincinnati. Unwilling to behold her offspring returned to the shambles of the South, this unhappy person, described in the testimony as “a womanly, amiable, affectionate mother,” determined to save them in the only way within her power. With a butcher-knife, coolly and deliberately, she took the life of one of the children, “almost white, and a little girl of rare beauty,” and attempted, without success, to take the life of the other two. To the preacher who interrogated her she exclaimed: “The child was my own, given me of God to do the best a mother could in its behalf. I have done the best I could; I would have done more and better for the rest; I knew it was better for them to go home to God than back to Slavery.” But she was restrained in her purpose. The Fugitive Slave Act triumphed, and, after the determination of sundry questions of jurisdiction, this devoted historic mother, with the two children remaining to her, and the dead body of the little one just emancipated, under a national escort of armed men, was hurried to the doom of Slavery. Her case did not end with this revolting sacrifice. So long as the human heart is moved by human suffering, the story of this mother will be read with alternate anger and grief, while it is studied as a perpetual witness to the slaveholding tyranny which then ruled the Republic with execrable exactions, destined at last to break out in war,—as the sacrifice of Virginia by her father is a perpetual witness to the decemviral tyranny which ruled Rome.
But Liberty is always priceless. There are other instances, less known, where kindred wrong has been done. Every case is a tragedy, under the forms of law. Worse than poisoned bowl or dagger was the certificate of a commissioner, allowed, without interruption, to continue his dreadful trade. Even since the Rebellion has raged in blood, the pretension of returning slaves to their masters is not abandoned. The piety of Abraham, who offered up Isaac as a sacrifice to Jehovah, is imitated, and the country continues to offer up fugitive bondmen as a sacrifice to Slavery. It is reported on good authority, that among slaves thus sacrificed was one who by communications to the Government had been the means of saving upwards of one hundred thousand dollars. Here in Washington, since the beneficent Act of Emancipation, even in sight of the flag floating from the National Capitol, the Fugitive Slave Act has been made a scourge and a terror to innocent men and women.
If all these pains and sorrows had redounded in any respect to the honor of the country, or had contributed in any way to the strength of the Union, then we might confess, perhaps, that something at least had been gained. But, alas! there has been nothing but unmixed evil. The country has suffered in good name, while foreign nations have pointed with scorn to a republic which could legalize such indecencies. Not a case occurred which was not greedily chronicled in Europe, and circulated there by the enemies of liberal institutions. Even since the Rebellion began in the name of Slavery, the existence of this odious enactment unrepealed on our statute-book has been quoted abroad to show that the supporters of the Union are as little deserving of sympathy as Rebel Slavemongers. By the enforcement of this odious Act the Union has suffered from the beginning; for not a slave is thrust back into bondage without weakening those patriotic sympathies, North and South, which are its best support. The natural irritation of the North, as it beheld all safeguards of Freedom overthrown and Slavery triumphant in its very streets, was answered by savage exultation in the South, which seemed to dance about its victims. Each instance was the occasion of new exasperations on both sides, which were skilfully employed by wicked conspirators “to fire the Southern heart.”