At the close of the Revolution there was a contradiction in the national consciousness: the People were divided between the Idea of Freedom and the Idea of Slavery. There consequently ensued a struggle between the two elements. This has continued ever since the Treaty of Peace in 1783.
Twice the Idea of Freedom has won an important victory: in 1787 Slavery was prohibited in the North-West Territory; in 1808 the African Slave Trade was abolished. Gentlemen, this is all that has been done for seventy-two years; the last triumph of American Freedom over American Slavery was forty-seven years ago!
But the victories of Slavery have been manifold: in 1787 Slavery came into the Constitution,—it was left in the individual States as a part of their "Republican form of government;" the slaves were counted fractions of men, without the personal rights of integral humanity, and so to be represented by their masters; and the rendition of fugitive slaves was provided for. In 1792 out of old territory a new Slave State was made and Kentucky came into the Union. Tennessee followed in 1796, Mississippi in 1817, Alabama in 1819, and thus four Slave States were newly made out of soil which the Declaration of Independence covered with ideal freedom. In 1793 the Federal government took Slavery under its special patronage and passed the first fugitive slave bill for the capture of such as should escape from bondage in one State, and flee to another. In 1803 Louisiana was purchased and Slavery left in that vast territory; thus the first expansion of our borders was an extension of bondage,—out of that soil three great States, Louisiana, Missouri, Arkansas, have since been made, all despotic, with more than half a million of Americans fettered there to-day. Florida was purchased as slave soil, and in 1845 made a State with perpetual Slavery written in its Constitution. In 1845 Texas was annexed and Slavery extended over nearly four hundred thousand square miles of once free soil; in 1848 Slavery was spread over California, Utah, and New Mexico. Here were seven great victories of Slavery over Freedom.
At first it seemed doubtful which was master in the federal councils; but in 1820, in a great battle—the Missouri Compromise—Slavery triumphed, and has ever since been master. In 1845 Texas was annexed, and Slavery became the open, acknowledged, and most insolent master. The rich, intelligent, and submissive North only registers the decrees of the poor, the ignorant, but the controlling South; accepts for Officers such as the master appoints, for laws what the Slave-driver commands. The Slave-Power became predominant in American politics, business, literature, and "Religion."
Gentlemen of the Jury, do you doubt what I say? Look at this Honorable Court,—at its Judges, its Attorney, at its Marshal, and its Marshal's Guard: they all hold their offices by petty serjeantry of menial service rendered to the Slave-Power. It would be an insult to any one of this august fraternity to hint that he had the faintest respect for the great Principles of American Liberty, or any love of justice for all men. I shall not be guilty of that "contempt of court." Gentlemen, I had expected that this Court would be solemnly opened with prayer. I knew whom the Slave-Power would select as its priest to "intercede with Heaven." I expected to hear the Rev. Nehemiah Adams, D.D., ask the God he worships and serves to take "a South-side view of American Slavery" in general, and in special of this prosecution of a minister of the Christian Religion for attempting to keep the Golden Rule. Should the Court hereafter indulge its public proclivity to prayer, that eminent divine will doubtless be its advocate—fit mediator for a Court which knows no Higher Law.
Well, Gentlemen, that sevenfold triumph was not enough. Slavery will never be contented so long as there is an inch of free soil in the United States! New victories must be attempted. Mr. Toombs has declared to this noble Advocate of Justice and Defender of Humanity, [John P. Hale] who renews the virtuous glories of his illustrious namesake, Sir Matthew Hale, that, "Before long the master will sit down with his slaves at the foot of Bunker Hill Monument." But one thing disturbed our masters at the South—the concubine runs away from her lusty lord, the mulatto slave child from her white father; I have had the "best blood of Virginia," fugitive children of her "first families" in my own house, and have given many a dollar to help the sons and daughters of "Southern Democrats" enjoy a taste of Northern Democracy. The slaves would run away. The law of 1793 was not adequate to keep or catch these African Christians who heeded not the Southern command, "Slaves, obey your masters." The Decision of the Supreme Court in the Prigg case,[174] showed the disposition of the Federal Government, and took out of the hands of the individual States the defence of their own citizens. Still the slaves would run away. In 1849 there were more than five hundred fugitives from Southern Democracy in Boston—and their masters could not catch them. What a misfortune! Boston retained $200,000 of human Property of the Christian and chivalric South! Surely the Union was "in danger."
In 1850 came the fugitive slave bill. When first concocted, its author,—a restless politician, a man of small mind and mean character, with "Plantation manners,"—thought it was "too bad to pass." He designed it not for an actual law, but an insult to the North so aggravating that she must resist the outrage, and then there would be an opportunity for some excitement and agitation at the South—and perhaps some "nullification" in South Carolina and Virginia; and in that general fermentation who knows what scum would be thrown up! Even Mr. Clay "never expected the law would be enforced." "No Northern gentleman," said he, "will ever help return a fugitive slave." It seemed impossible for the bill to pass.
But at that time Massachusetts had in the Senate of the nation a disappointed politician, a man of great understanding, of most mighty powers of speech,—
"Created hugest that swim the ocean stream,"—
and what more than all else contributed to his success in life, the most magnificent and commanding personal appearance. At that time—his ambition nothing abated by the many years which make men venerable,—he was a bankrupt in money, a bankrupt in reputation, and a bankrupt in morals—I speak only of his public morals, not his private,—a bankrupt in political character, pensioned by the Money Power of the North. Thrice disappointed, he was at that time gaming for the Presidency. When the South laid down the fugitive slave bill, on the national Faro-table, Mr. Webster bet his all upon that card. He staked his mind—and it was one of vast compass; his eloquence, which could shake the continent; his position, the senatorial influence of Massachusetts; his wide reputation, which rung with many a noble word for justice and the Rights of man; he staked his conscience and his life. Gentlemen, you know the rest,—the card won, the South took the trick, and Webster lost all he could lose,—his conscience, his position, his reputation; not his wide-compassing mind, not his earth-shaking eloquence. Finally he lost his—life. Peace to his mighty shade. God be merciful to him that showed no mercy. The warning of his fall is worth more than the guidance of his success. Let us forgive; it were wicked to forget. For fifty years no American has had such opportunity to serve his country in an hour of need. Never has an American so signally betrayed the trust—not once since Benedict Arnold turned a less ignoble traitor!