APPLICABLE TO INDENTED SERVANTS.
Here it is important to consider, that, besides apprentices, there was a class of “indented servants” embraced by this clause. From Bancroft we learn that this species of servitude, under indentures or covenants, had from the first existed in Virginia. According to the historian, “the servant stood to his master in the relation of a debtor,” which, be it observed, is not the condition of a slave. From the same authority we learn that “the supply of white servants became a regular business,”—that, “like negroes, they were to be purchased on shipboard, as men buy horses at a fair,”—that “in 1672 the average price in the Colonies, where five years of service were due, was about ten pounds, while a negro was worth twenty or twenty-five pounds.”[326] The Scots captured on the field of Dunbar, royalist prisoners of the Battle of Worcester, and companions of Monmouth in his ill-starred insurrection were sent to the Colonies as a merchantable commodity, and there held in slavery for life or for years.
The other historian of our country, Hildreth, contributes to our knowledge of this class of servants. According to him, the importation of indented white persons, called “servants,” or sometimes “redemptioners,” in contradistinction to negroes, known as slaves, was extensively carried on as late as 1750, especially in the Middle States; and he mentions, that the Colonial enactments for keeping them in order, and especially for preventing their escape, were often very harsh and severe. They were put, for the most part, on a level with slaves, but their case in other respects was different. Except in very young persons, the term of service seldom or never exceeded seven years, and in all cases it was limited by law.[327] Even during the Revolution these indented servants appear on the stage. Many were enlisted in the army, and, yielding to the earnest request of Washington, Congress relinquished a plan already adopted of stopping a portion of their pay for the benefit of their masters.[328]
An English Colonial official, Eddis, in a letter from America, dated September 20, 1770, describes four different denominations of persons “in a state of servitude”: first, the “negroes,” who are the entire property of their respective owners; secondly, “convicts,” transported from the mother country for a limited term; “indented servants,” engaged for five years previous to leaving England; and “free-willers,” supposed from their situation to possess superior advantages. These he proceeds to describe. Of the last class he says, they are received under express condition, that, on arrival in America, they are to be allowed a number of days to dispose of themselves most to their advantage, but, in fact, they are rarely permitted to set foot on shore until they have bound themselves.[329]
If, happily, at the formation of the Constitution, these servants had diminished in number, or had ceased to exist as a class, the condition was not unknown. They were persons “held to service or labor,” and the provision of the Constitution was strictly applicable to them.
Rejecting the odious application involving the support of Slavery, we follow received rules and the undoubted genius of the Common Law. How anxiously judges seek to evade an obnoxious penal statute is illustrated by a curious case mentioned by Lord Campbell. It was proved that the defendant, being in a stubble-field with a pointer, fired his gun at a covey of partridges, and shot two, when the judge, disliking to enforce the Game Laws, objected that there was no evidence that the gun was loaded with shot, and advised the jury to conclude that the birds fell dead from fright.[330] But a clause for the rendition of fugitive slaves is entitled to as little respect as the Game Laws, and, when the words employed are applicable to others than slaves, they should not be applied to slaves.
NO LAPSE OF TIME CAN DEFEAT AN INTERPRETATION IN FAVOR OF LIBERTY.
Against this interpretation, so overpowering in reason and authority, it is no objection that thus far Slavery has prevailed. There is no statute of limitation and no prescription against the undying claims of Liberty. Rejected or neglected in one generation, they revive in another; nor can they be impaired by any desuetude. This objection was impotent to prevent Lord Mansfield from declaring that Slavery could not exist in England, although practically, under a false interpretation of the British Constitution, sustained by the professional opinions of Talbot and Yorke, and by the judgment of the latter on the bench, under the name of Lord Hardwicke, African slaves were sold in the streets of London, and advertised for sale in English papers, for a period full as long as that which has witnessed the false interpretation of our Constitution. As length of time did not prevail against a true interpretation of the British Constitution in the case of Somerset, it ought not to prevail against a true interpretation of our Constitution now.
There is no chemistry in time to transmute wrong into right. Therefore the whole question on the Constitution is still open, as on the day of its adoption. The cases of misinterpretation are of no value,—at least they cannot settle the question against Liberty. Such was the noble declaration of Charles James Fox in the British Parliament, when, in words strictly pertinent now, he said: “Wherever any usage appeared subversive of the Constitution, if it had lasted for one or for two hundred years, it was not a precedent, but an usurpation.”[331] And such is the character of every instance in which our Constitution has been perverted to sanction Slavery.