William Jay and the Constitutional Movement for the Abolition of Slavery

by Bayard Tuckerman

"We fully and unanimously recognize the sovereignty of each State to legislate exclusively on the subject of slavery which is tolerated within its limits; we concede that Congress under the present National Compact has no right to interfere with any of the slave States in relation to this momentous subject.

"But we maintain that Congress has a right and is solemnly bound to suppress the domestic slave-trade between the several States, and to abolish slavery in those portions of our territory which the Constitution has placed under its exclusive jurisdiction."

In 1838 an energetic attempt was made by Alvan Stewart, of Utica, to strike out the clause in the constitution of the American Antislavery Society which recognized the rights of the Southern States under the United States Constitution. Jay perceived the injury that such a course would inflict on the position of the abolitionists. It would, indeed, have committed the society to the doctrine that Congress could continue slavery in the States. He opposed the change with vigour during a debate of two days and succeeded in maintaining the all-important clause.

Looked at by the light of subsequent events, the importance of placing the antislavery movement on a strictly constitutional basis cannot be overrated. Upon the principles thus distinctly avowed rested the moral and political strength of the movement during a struggle of nearly thirty years. And these principles became, in 1854, under the guidance of the founders of the Republican party, the chief plank in the platform of that great organization, under whose sturdy lead, aided by citizens of all parties, the supremacy of the national Constitution was maintained, the integrity of the national territory was preserved, slavery was ended, and the republic saved.

Judge Jay was not yet officially connected with the antislavery societies, but his sympathy was close with them and their officers. At the request of the Executive Committee of the New York society, he drafted a petition for abolition in the District of Columbia for circulation in New York, in which he again distinctly drew the line between the power of Congress over the District and its want of power as regarded the States. This careful discrimination had no weight with the many who were unwilling to admit that anything said or done by the abolitionists was right. But it succeeded with more liberal men, among them the good Chancellor Kent. The Chancellor, whose reputation as a jurist was second to none, signed the petition, which he declared to contain "no unconstitutional doctrine."

The first anniversary of the American Antislavery Society was held at the Chatham Street Chapel in the beginning of May, 1834. Arthur Tappan presided, and addresses were made by Elizur Wright, Jr., Rev. Amos A. Phelps of Boston, James A. Stone of Kentucky, a delegate from the Lane Seminary, Robert Purvis of Philadelphia, Rev. Henry G. Ludlow, Wm. Lloyd Garrison, and Charles Stewart. The meeting met with disorderly interruptions; the newspapers contained abusive attacks upon the abolitionists and appealed against them to the passions of the lowest and most ignorant class in the community. "All this violence and obloquy," remarked Judge Jay, "are not without an object, and that object is intimidation." The truth of this observation was soon disgracefully verified. When the Fourth of July was celebrated at the Chatham Street Chapel by an antislavery oration from David Paul Brown of Philadelphia, the disorderly elements evoked by the press against the blacks and abolitionists responded in large force and with increased lawlessness. On the 9th of July a mob assembled at the Chapel, broke open the doors, passed resolutions in favor of the Colonization Society and by a suggestive vote adjourned until the next meeting of the Antislavery Society. The mob then proceeded to the Bowery Theatre to avenge some expressions attributed to an English actor, and next to the house of Mr. Lewis Tappan, which was attacked with bricks and stones, the furniture broken up and burned in the street. The riots continued for several days with little hindrance from the city authorities. Six churches were attacked and a large number of houses occupied by abolitionists or by coloured people. Against the latter the fury of the mob was especially directed. The same scenes of riot and cruelty toward the helpless blacks occurred in Philadelphia, where forty-five houses were destroyed. It was evident that the arguments of the abolitionists could not be met except with violence. The mobs, as usual, were cowardly. In some cases the determined action of the abolitionists afforded them the protection refused by the police. It was announced that among the houses to be attacked was that of Dr. Abraham L. Cox, in Broome Street, a few doors east of Broadway. John Jay, then a student at Columbia College, was living in the house. Some members of the New York Young Men's Antislavery Society, with guns and pistols, were gathered within and notice was given publicly that an attack would be repelled by force. Late that night the mob in its lawless career passed close to Dr. Cox's house, but did not dare to molest it. Similar preparations for defence saved the store of Arthur Tappan.

While the New York mob, as the Commercial Advertiser said, were "now nightly engaged in deeds of violence," the same paper distinctly took the ground that the abolitionists should not enjoy "the protection of the law and the aid of the military," except "on condition that the causers of these mischiefs shall be abated and the outrages upon public feelings from the forum, the pulpit, and the press shall no more be repeated by these reckless incendiaries." The Courier and Inquirer of the same day said: "Now we tell them [the abolitionists] that when they openly and publicly promulgate doctrines which outrage public feelings, they have no right to demand protection of the people they insult," and they must understand "that they prosecute their treasonable and beastly plans at their own peril." Such was the view taken of American freedom of speech by the pro-slavery party. The manly traits of American character seemed to be lost in the prevailing atmosphere of race prejudice, cowardice, and injustice. Politicians of both parties, representatives of the commercial and professional classes of the North, acquiesced in a policy which they thought would advance their views, but which was destructive of the fundamental principles of American liberty. The highest and the lowest had joined hands to assail the coloured people and their friends. Names honoured in the Church and the State, which should have helped to elevate public opinion and to guide it in the path of justice, obeyed the mandates and echoed the denunciations of the Slave Power. For a time was presented an alliance in behalf of slavery of the highest classes with the scum of politicians and criminals. The intrepid William Leggett was one of the few who dared to publish the truth. "The fury of demons," he wrote in the Evening Post, "seems to have entered into the breasts of our misguided populace. The rights of public and private property, the obligations of law, the authority of its ministers and even the power of the military are all equally spurned by these audacious sons of riot and disorder." Candid and cautious thinkers began to take alarm at the disregard for law which seemed to be spreading through the country. "These mobs," wrote Dr. Channing, "are indeed most dishonourable to us as a people, because they have been too much the expression of public sentiment, ... because there was a willingness that the antislavery movement should be put down by force."

The conduct of the mobs, and the encouragement given to them by the press, aroused the spirit and stimulated the energy of the abolitionists. "These crimes," said Judge Jay, "abundantly prove the extreme cruelty and sinfulness of that prejudice against colour which we are impiously told is an ordination of Providence. Colonizationists, assuming the prejudice to be natural and invincible, propose to remove its victims beyond its influence. Abolitionists, on the contrary, remembering with the Psalmist 'that it is He that hath made us, and not we ourselves,' believe that the benevolent Father of us all requires us to treat with justice and kindness every portion of the human family."

Although he had been an earnest emancipationist for ten years, Judge Jay had had doubts of the wisdom of forming antislavery societies at so early a period in the movement. He had feared that unmeasured and unconstitutional doctrines might be adopted which would set the cause in a false light before the country. His advice had been sought and followed, as we have seen, and there was no longer any reason why he should not become an active member. In 1834, immediately after the riots and when the outlook seemed darkest, he took a place on the Executive Committee of the National Society.

"In that season of feverish excitement," wrote Hon. Henry Wilson, "Judge William Jay, inheriting not only the honoured name, but the principles and purity of the illustrious Chief-Justice, at first declined an office in the new society, deeming its organization premature," but now "sought to take his share of its labours and responsibilities. His name gave prestige; his talents, learning, and integrity afforded strength, while his cautious and ready pen laid precious gifts upon its altar."