WHEN the war clouds broke over the country and hostilities began, the North counted the Negro on the outside of the issue. The Federal Government planted itself upon the policy of the "defence of the free States,"—pursued a defensive rather than an offensive policy. And, whenever the Negro was mentioned, the leaders of the political parties and the Union army declared that it was "a white mans war."
The first call for three months' troops indicated that the authorities at Washington felt confident that the "trouble" would not last long. The call was issued on the 15th of April, 1861, and provided for the raising of 75,000 troops. It was charged by the President that certain States had been guilty of forming "combinations too powerful to be suppressed by the ordinary course of judicial proceedings," and then he proceeded to state:
"The details for this object will be immediately communicated to the State authorities through the War Department. I appeal to all loyal citizens to favor, facilitate, and aid this effort to maintain the honor, the integrity, and the existence of our National Union, and the perpetuity of popular government, and to redress wrongs already long enough endured. I deem it proper to say that the first service assigned to the forces hereby called forth, will probably be to repossess the forts, places, and property which have been seized from the Union; and in every event the utmost care will be observed, consistently with the objects aforesaid, to avoid any devastation, any destruction of, or interference with, property, or any disturbance of peaceful citizens of any part of the country; and I hereby command the persons composing the combinations aforesaid, to disperse and retire peaceably to their respective abodes within twenty days from this date."[75]
There was scarcely a city in the North, from New York to San Francisco, whose Colored residents did not speedily offer their services to the States to aid in suppressing the Rebellion. But everywhere as promptly were their services declined. The Colored people of the Northern States were patriotic and enthusiastic; but their interest was declared insolence. And being often rebuked for their loyalty, they subsided into silence to bide a change of public sentiment.
The almost unanimous voice of the press and pulpit was against a recognition of the Negro as the cause of the war. Like a man in the last stages of consumption who insists that he has only a bad cold, so the entire North urged that slavery was not the cause of the war: it was a little local misunderstanding. But the death of the gallant Col. Elmer E. Elsworth palsied the tongues of mere talkers; and in the tragic silence that followed, great, brave, and true men began to think.
Not a pulpit in all the land had spoken a word for the slave. The clergy stood dumb before the dreadful issue. But one man was found, like David of old, who, gathering his smooth pebble of fact from the brook of God's eternal truth, boldly met the boastful and erroneous public sentiment of the hour. That man was the Rev. Justin D. Fulton, a Baptist minister of Albany, New York. He was chosen to preach the funeral sermon of Col. Elsworth, and performed that duty on Sunday, May 26, 1861. Speaking of slavery, the reverend gentleman said:
"Shall this magazine of danger be permitted to remain? We must answer this question. If we say no, it is no! Slavery is a curse to the North. It impoverishes the South, and demoralizes both. It is the parent of treason, the seedling of tyranny, and the fountain-source of all the ills that have infected our life as a people, being the central cause of all our conflicts of the past and the war of to-day. What reason have we for permitting it to remain? God does not want it, for His truth gives freedom. The South does not need it, for it is the chain fastened to her limb that fetters her progress. Morality, patriotism, and humanity alike protest against it.
"The South fights for slavery, for the despotism which it represents, for the ignoring the rights of labor, and for reducing to slavery or to serfdom all whose hands are hardened by toil.
"Why not make the issue at once, which shall inspire every man that shoulders his musket with a noble purpose? Our soldiers need to be reminded that this government was consecrated to freedom by those who first built here the altars of worship, and planted on the shore of the Western Continent the tree of liberty, whose fruit to-day fills the garners of national hope.... I would not forget that I am a messenger of the Prince of Peace. My motives for throwing out these suggestions are three-fold: 1. Because I believe God wants us to be actuated by motives not one whit less philanthropic than the giving of freedom to four million of people. 2. I confess to a sympathy for and faith in the slave, and cherish the belief that if freed, the war would become comparatively bloodless, and that as a people we should enter on the discharge of higher duties and a more enlarged prosperity. 3. The war would hasten to a close, and the end secured would then form a brilliant dawn to a career of prosperity unsurpassed in the annals of mankind."[76]
Brave, prophetic words! But a thousand vituperative editors sprang at Mr. Fulton's utterances, and as snapping curs, growled at and shook every sentence. He stood his ground. He took no step backward. When notice was kindly sent him that a committee would wait on him to treat him to a coat of tar and feathers, against the entreaties of anxious friends, he sent word that he would give them a warm reception. When the best citizens of Albany said the draft could not be enforced without bloody resistance, the Rev. Mr. Fulton exclaimed: "If the floodgates of blood are to be opened, we will not shoot down the poor and ignorant, but the swaggering and insolent men whose hearts are not in this war!"
The "Atlas and Argus," in an editorial on Ill-Timed Pulpit Abolitionism, denounced Rev. Mr. Fulton in bitterest terms; while the "Evening Standard" and "Journal" both declared that the views of the preacher were as a fire-brand thrown into the magazine of public sentiment.
Everywhere throughout the North the Negro was counted as on the outside. Everywhere it was merely "a war for the Union," which was half free and half slave.