There are about 4,000,000 of slaves in the United States. They are worth, at a very moderate calculation, $240,000,000; but as we wish to keep within the realm of morality, we cast that little item aside. There they are, from a day old to one hundred years old—ignorant, helpless, thriftless, penniless. What would become of them if set free? They would suffer, languish, die. Does charity, does religion, demand of us to put them in that condition? How are they to live? “Support them yourselves,” said a man to me once, of more negrophilism than brains. What would we have to support them on, and what obligation is there upon one class of freemen to support another? The very act of emancipation would consign nineteen twentieths of the masters to abject penury and want. There would be no more conscience, mercy, or remorse in the scramble between the races for the provision on hand at the date of the act, than there is for the means of safety among the crew of a sinking ship. The last year’s crop of cotton was, in round numbers, 4,500,000 bales. Three fourths of this amount goes abroad, and most of it to England. Will the reader take the trouble to compute the amount of shipping it takes to transport that quantity of cotton from America to Europe, the number of hands employed in the transportation, and the number employed in working up the raw material? Shipping, seamen, manufacturers, under-workmen, must all go by the board the first year of emancipation. Now, add to the exports 80,000 tierces of rice and 128,000 hogsheads of tobacco in the same category (nearly), and tell me if it is possible to conceive of a greater calamity that could befall the world than the immediate emancipation of the slaves of the United States. Nine millions, at least, would certainly be ruined by it (the slaves and their masters), as the first fruits of the measure; and hundreds of thousands, if not millions more, in the free states and kingdoms, i.e., all who are dependent upon cotton, rice, and tobacco in any way for a living,—as its ultimate fruits. Will it be said that the negroes will still produce these articles for their own benefit? How could they, unless the masters would give them the land to cultivate, implements to till it, and food and clothing for one year? To do this would cost the masters at least two hundred million dollars more; and what would become of the whites and their dependants in the mean time? But if the negroes had the outfit, they would not make the fifth part of these articles the first year. Look at your freedmen in the West Indies. We regard them as a warning, not as an encouragement. In the face of the thunderbolt, I would assert that our slaves are infinitely healthier, holier, and happier, than your freedmen. Will it be said that white labor would supply their places? How could we hire white labor? And if it performed the work, where would the slaves be? But what of foreigners dependent upon those articles? Will it be said the shipping and labor would be turned into other channels? What other? The world does not produce the article, nor the wants of the world a demand for them, if it did. This thing of diverting large amounts of labor and capital from one channel into another, is a work of time; it cannot be accomplished in a day. They who have seen the effects of a change of fashion, simply upon many laborers, may form some distant idea of the consequences of turning millions of property and labor into new channels. Time may turn the sailor into a farmer, but death would overtake him before employment, where there were practised farmers enough to supply the demand.
Now, I could say much more to show the utter impracticability of emancipation in the United States, even upon the score of humanity; but enough is said until what is said be fairly answered. Until it is fairly answered, until some practicable means is pointed out of ridding ourselves of slavery, I enter my most solemn protest against all denunciation of our country on account of it. It is like denouncing a man because he carries an incurable disease; and coming from British lips, it is like stabbing a man, and, while catching his blood to work into puddings, abusing him for bleeding, and crying out all the time, “Cure yourself! cure yourself! or keep out of decent company!” But if abuse, vilification, sarcasm, and contempt, are to be the lot of slaveholders, let it be the lot of slaveholders alone, and of those alone who thrust themselves unbidden into the society of their betters.
Whatever his lordship did not intend by the remark,—and I am ready to believe that he did not intend to wound,—he certainly did intend to bring to the minister’s notice that England made no distinction between men on account of their color; and herein his lordship was lamentably unfortunate, for the whole scene showed that not only he, but all his applauders, make a marked distinction between colors. Would not his lordship have had more respect for the feelings of any white man than to have made him the object of special notice—and such a notice!—to men gathered from all quarters of the world? Would his lordship’s discourtesy to a white man have been applauded, as it was, by gentlemen of refinement and delicacy? True, it hit Dr. Delany’s sensibilities exactly in the right place, for he returned thanks for it; but the chances were a thousand to one that it would have enkindled his indignation. “What!” he was likely to have said, “is it a boast of the nobility of England that I am admitted to a seat among white men?” His thanksgiving, too, was applauded—a thing not exactly in keeping with our ordinary dealings with white men. And when he proclaimed the indubitable fact, “that he was a man,” again he was applauded. If any other man had arisen in the assembly, and said the self-same thing, he would have been laughed at, not applauded. Again: his lordship pointed him out as a “negro,”—that was the word,—not, as some of the gazettes have it, a “colored person,” or “colored gentleman;” the Times has it right. Now, if he had felt a due regard for the doctor’s rank, would he not have softened his designation, as the papers have kindly done for him? I am told that the doctor is a member of the Geographical Society, and a delegate from Canada. If so, I demand, by all the canons of courtesy, why he was not called to the stand as one of the vice-presidents, and placed right between Mr. Dallas and myself? Here would have been a scenic representation of thrilling moral effect—more eloquent of Old England’s love of freedom and contempt of mastery than all lip-compliments of all her nobles put together. Or, if that seat was too low for the doctor, why was he not placed between Lord Brougham and the chair? Had I seen him there, verily my own heart would have swelled with a compliment to noble Old England which no lips could have fitly uttered. Where was the doctor at the prince’s reception? I did not see him there. To what section does he belong? I do not find him allotted to either. To how many of the entertainments has he been invited? Now, in all this, I detect a lurking feeling, ever and anon peeping out, which convinces me that the colored man is yet far, very far, below the white man in public estimation, even in Europe; and, until this is conquered, let not the European assume to lecture the American upon his duty to the slave, or upon the equality of the races. Why, if the thing is fated to us, like death, can any man of common humanity and generosity take pleasure in throwing it in our teeth? Slavery is either a blessing or a curse. If a blessing, why disturb us in the enjoyment of it? You Englishmen ought to plume yourselves upon it, for it is your benefaction. If a curse, you should not embitter it. We regard it as a blessing; why disenchant us of the delusion? You say it is a great sin. I doubt it, as I find it; and shall ever doubt, while Paul’s Epistle to Philemon is universally acknowledged an inspired epistle. (See note on page 115.) But suppose it a sin; has God commissioned you to reform it? and do you think you ever will reform it by eternally sprinkling vitriol upon the master? As for your contempt, we would rather not have it, to be sure; but if you will be content with that, we will live in peace forever, for it is an article in equal store on both sides. If you cannot condescend to our company, we will not complain at giving a place to Dr. Delany, and we can beatify you with four millions precisely such. But in your intercourse with us, do not, for your own sakes, forget all the rules of delicacy, benevolence, and humanity, for every adult of us can stand up and say, “I am a man!” Farewell to thee, London, for a short time; one more brief look at thy wonders, and then farewell forever! Another visit to Liverpool; I like her better than London, because she likes my people better. “Interest!” “Cotton!” It may be so, but I am grateful for love of any kind in England. Never, in all my long, long life, did my heart-strings knit around a fair one so quickly and so closely, as they did around a lady in London, who approached me, and said, “Mr. Longstreet, I must get acquainted with you. I love your country; I have several kinsmen there.” That’s natural; that’s woman-like. It is for man to draw favors from a country and curse her. God bless her! And God bless the family in which she said it. As Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, slaveholders, are in heaven, I hope to get there, too. May I meet them all there! But whither am I wandering? Liverpool—another look at Liverpool, another benefice to the English Cunard line, and then farewell to Europe forever and forever!
A. B. Longstreet.
P. S. I forgot to mention many kind invitations that I have received from distinguished personages. I declined them all, not indifferently nor disrespectfully, but because they were obviously given to me as a member of the Congress, which I was not when they reached me, and never shall be.
Note. The Epistle to Philemon has been an enigma to commentators for seventeen hundred years. That it is the fruit of divine inspiration has never been questioned by Christians; and it is but a letter from Paul to a brother, pleading for a runaway slave whom he sent home to his master. Read it, and see the Christians who joined in it. In Paul’s day they did not steal negroes and murder their masters. There were no Browns and Hugos in those days. Philemon was beloved of Paul, was doubtless a preacher, and had a church in his house. Is not the enigma now solved? Can we not now see why the epistle was inspired? What would become of us if we were bound to emancipate under all circumstances, or forfeit heaven? I have only hinted at the horrors of the thing.
“It was made the subject of inquiry by some as to the means by which I entered that scientific assemblage. It was through the same doorway which admitted every other member, not a delegated representative, that is, a royal commission.
“By the established usages of this annual assembly, any persons of known scientific attainments, great authorship, mechanical inventions of mathematical complication, researches and discoveries in topographical, geological, or geographical explorations, are regarded as legitimately entitled to the consideration of the royal commissioners, three of whom are always appointed by the sovereign or ruler of that country to which the succeeding Congress is assigned to meet. These commissioners have all the arrangement of the coming Congress in their hands, and issue all the commissions of special membership to those not accredited as national representative delegates.
“By courtesy, the diplomatic representatives of every nation present are ex-officio vice-presidents, with two specially selected vice-presidents.
“When the time drew near for the arrival of his royal highness, the Congress was organized, the members taking their seats, and the official dignitaries seated on the platform.