This is enough, but not all. On two other capital grounds do I oppose the Act as unconstitutional: first, as it is an assumption by Congress of powers not delegated by the Constitution, and in derogation of the rights of the States; and, secondly, as it takes away that essential birthright of the citizen, trial by jury, in a question of personal liberty and a suit at Common Law. Thus obnoxious, I have always regarded it as an enactment totally devoid of all constitutional, as it is clearly devoid of all moral obligation, while it is disgraceful to the country and the age. And, Sir, I have hoped and labored for the creation of such a Public Opinion, firm, enlightened, and generous, as should render this Act practically inoperative, and should press, without ceasing, upon Congress for its repeal. For all that I have thus uttered I have no regret or apology, but rather joy and satisfaction. Glad I am in having said it; glad I am now in the opportunity of affirming it all anew. Thus much for myself.
In response for Massachusetts, there are other things. Something surely must be pardoned to her history. In Massachusetts stands Boston. In Boston stands Faneuil Hall, where, throughout the perils which preceded the Revolution, our patriot fathers assembled to vow themselves to Freedom. Here, in those days, spoke James Otis, full of the thought that "the people's safety is the law of God."[65] Here, also, spoke Joseph Warren, inspired by the sentiment that "death with all its tortures is preferable to Slavery."[66] And here, also, thundered John Adams, fervid with the conviction that "consenting to Slavery is a sacrilegious breach of trust."[67] Not far from this venerable hall—between this Temple of Freedom and the very court-house to which the Senator [Mr. Jones] has referred—is the street where, in 1770, the first blood was spilt in conflict between British troops and American citizens, and among the victims was one of that African race which you so much despise. Almost within sight is Bunker Hill; further off, Lexington and Concord. Amidst these scenes a Slave-Hunter from Virginia appears, and the disgusting rites begin by which a fellow-man is sacrificed. Sir, can you wonder that our people are moved?
"Who can be wise, amazed, temperate and furious,
Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man."
It is true that the Slave Act was with difficulty executed, and that one of its servants perished in the madness. On these grounds the Senator from Tennessee charges Boston with fanaticism. I express no opinion on the conduct of individuals; but I do say, that the fanaticism which the Senator condemns is not new in Boston. It is the same which opposed the execution of the Stamp Act, and finally secured its repeal. It is the same which opposed the Tea Tax. It is the fanaticism which finally triumphed on Bunker Hill. The Senator says that Boston is filled with traitors. That charge is not new. Boston of old was the home of Hancock and Adams. Her traitors now are those who are truly animated by the spirit of the American Revolution. In condemning them, in condemning Massachusetts, in condemning these remonstrants, you simply give proper conclusion to the utterance on this floor, that the Declaration of Independence is "a self-evident lie."
Here I might leave the imputations on Massachusetts. But the case is stronger yet. I have referred to the Stamp Act. The parallel is of such aptness and importance, that, though on a former occasion I presented it to the Senate, I cannot forbear from pressing it again. As the precise character of this Act may not be familiar, allow me to remind the Senate that it was an attempt to draw money from the Colonies through a stamp tax, while the determination of certain questions of forfeiture under the statute was delegated, not to the Courts of Common Law, but to Courts of Admiralty, without trial by jury. This Act was denounced in the Colonies at its passage, as contrary to the British Constitution, on two principal grounds, identical in character with the two chief grounds on which the Slave Act is now declared to be unconstitutional: first, as an assumption by Parliament of powers not belonging to it, and an infraction of rights secured to the Colonies; and, secondly, as a denial of trial by jury in certain cases of property. On these grounds the Stamp Act was held to be an outrage.
The Colonies were aroused against it. Virginia first declared herself by solemn resolutions, which the timid thought "treasonable,"—yes, Sir, "treasonable,"[68]—just as that word is now applied to recent manifestations of opinion in Boston,—even to the memorial of her twenty-nine hundred merchants. But these "treasonable" resolutions soon found response. New York followed. Massachusetts came next. In an address from the Legislature to the Governor, the true ground of opposition to the Stamp Act, coincident with the two radical objections to the Slave Act, are clearly set forth, with the following pregnant conclusion:—
"We deeply regret it that the Parliament has seen fit to pass such an act as the Stamp Act; we flatter ourselves that the hardships of it will shortly appear to them in such a point of light as shall induce them, in their wisdom, to repeal it; in the mean time we must beg your Excellency to excuse us from doing anything to assist in the execution of it."[69]
The Stamp Act was welcomed in the Colonies by the Tories of that day, precisely as the unconstitutional Slave Act has been welcomed by an imperious class among us. Hutchinson, at that time Lieutenant-Governor and Judge in Massachusetts, wrote to Ministers in England:—