But enough for the present on the extent of my constitutional obligations to become Slave-Hunter. There are, however, yet other things in the assault of the venerable Senator, which, for the sake of truth, in just defence of Massachusetts, and in honor of Freedom, shall not be left unanswered. Alluding to those days when Massachusetts was illustrated by Otis, Hancock, and "the brace of Adamses," when Faneuil Hall sent forth notes of Liberty which resounded even to South Carolina, and the very stones in the streets of Boston rose in mutiny against tyranny, the Senator with the silver-white locks, in the very ecstasy of Slavery, broke forth in exclamation that Massachusetts was then "slaveholding," and he presumed to hail these patriots representatives of "hardy, slaveholding Massachusetts." Sir, I repel the imputation. True, Massachusetts was "hardy"; but she was not, in any just sense, "slaveholding." Had she been so, she could not have been "hardy." The two characteristics are inconsistent as weakness and strength, as disease and health,—I had almost said, as death and life.
The Senator opens a page on which I willingly dwell. Sir, Slavery never flourished in Massachusetts; nor did it ever prevail there at any time, even in early colonial days, in such measure as to be a distinctive feature of her progressive civilization. Her few slaves were for a term of years or for life. If, in fact, their issue was sometimes held in bondage, it was never by sanction of any statute or law of Colony or Commonwealth. Such has been the solemn and repeated judgment of her Supreme Court.[87] In all her annals, no person was ever born a slave on the soil of Massachusetts. This, of itself, is an answer to the imputation of the Senator.
Benign and brilliant Acts of her Legislature, at an early date, show her sensibility on this subject. Unhappily, in 1645, two negroes were brought from the coast of Guinea in a Boston ship. Instead of holding them as slaves, the record shows "a resolve to send them back."[88] One year later, "a negro interpreter, with others, unlawfully taken," became the occasion of another testimony. Thus spoke Massachusetts:—
"The General Court, conceiving themselves bound by the first opportunity to bear witness against the heinous and crying sin of man-stealing, as also to prescribe such timely redress for what is past, and such a law for the future, as may sufficiently deter all others belonging to us to have to do in such vile and most odious courses, justly abhorred of all good and just men, do order, that the negro interpreter, with others, unlawfully taken, be, by the first opportunity, at the charge of the country for present, sent to his native country of Guinea, and a letter with him, of the indignation of the Court thereabouts, and justice thereof."[89]
Note the language: "Such vile and most odious courses, justly abhorred of all good and just men." Better words could not be employed against the infamies of Slavery in our day. The Colony that could issue this noble decree was inconsistent with itself, when it permitted its rocky soil to be pressed by the footstep of a single slave. But a righteous public opinion early and constantly set its face against Slavery. As early as 1701 the following vote appears on the Records of Boston: "The Representatives are desired to promote the encouraging the bringing of white servants, and to put a period to negroes being slaves."[90] Perhaps, in all history, this is the earliest testimony from any official body against Negro Slavery, and I thank God that it came from Boston, my native town. In 1705 a heavy duty was imposed upon every negro imported into the Province;[91] in 1712 the importation of Indians as servants or slaves was strictly forbidden;[92] but the general subject of Slavery attracted little attention till the beginning of the controversy which ended in the Revolution, when the rights of the blacks were blended by all true patriots with those of the whites. Sparing unnecessary detail, suffice it to say, that, as early as 1770, one of the courts of Massachusetts, anticipating by two years the renowned judgment in Somerset's case, established within its jurisdiction the principle of emancipation, and, under its touch of magic power, changed slave into freeman. Similar decisions followed from other courts. In 1776 the whole number of blacks, both free and slave, sprinkled thinly over "hardy" Massachusetts, was five thousand two hundred and forty-nine, being to the whites as one to sixty-five,[93]—while in "slaveholding" South Carolina the number of negro slaves at that time was not far from one hundred thousand, being at least one slave for every freeman, thus rendering that Colony anything but "hardy." In these figures I give South Carolina the benefit of the most favorable estimates. Good authorities make the slaves at that time in this State more than twice as numerous as the freemen.[94] At last, in 1780, even before the triumph of Yorktown led the way to that peace which set its seal upon National Independence, Massachusetts, glowing with the struggles of the Revolution, and filled with the sentiments of Freedom, placed foremost in her Declaration of Rights those emphatic words, "All men are born free and equal," and by this declaration exterminated every vestige of Slavery within her borders. All hail, then, to Massachusetts! the just and generous Commonwealth in whose behalf I have the honor to speak.
Thus, Sir, does the venerable Senator err, when he presumes to vouch Massachusetts for Slavery, and to associate this odious institution with the names of her great patriots.
But the venerable Senator errs yet more, if possible, when he attributes to "slaveholding" communities a leading part in those contributions of arms and treasure by which independence was secured. Here are his exact words, as I find them in the "Globe," revised by himself.
"Sir, when blood was shed upon the plains of Lexington and Concord, in an issue made by Boston, to whom was an appeal made, and from whom was it answered? The answer is found in the acts of slaveholding States,—animis opibusque parati. Yes, Sir, the independence of America, to maintain republican liberty, was won by the arms and treasure, by the patriotism and good faith, of slaveholding communities."[95]
Observe, Sir, the words as emphasized by himself. Surely, the Senator, with his silver-white locks, all fresh from the outrage of the Nebraska Bill, and that overthrow of a solemn compact, cannot stand here and proclaim the "good faith of slaveholding communities," except in irony,—yes, Sir, in irony. And let me add, that, when this Senator presumes to say that American Independence "was won by the arms and treasure of slaveholding communities," he speaks either in irony or in ignorance.