Chapter XIV: Part 14

When the Fugitive Slave Law was first promulgated, there was, as I have stated, a very general outburst of indignation throughout the North,--a feeling of dreadful shame, a sense of a most bitter insult. The first impulse of the Unitarians, as of others, was to denounce it. At their autumnal convention in Springfield, October, 1850, they did so, though not without strong opposition to any vote or action on the subject. Probably the opposers would have prevailed, and the law have been left unrebuked, had not that venerable man, the late Rev. Dr. Willard, of Deerfield, risen and earnestly--yes, solemnly--protested against passing lightly over a matter of such fearful importance. Dr. Willard was old, and had long been blind. Would to God that the moral sight of many of his younger ministerial brethren had been half as clear and pure as his! With tremulous eloquence he called upon them to reconsider their motion. He appealed to their pity for men and women over whom was impending the greatest calamity that could befall human beings. He appealed to their regard for the honor of their country, and besought them to avert her shame, by doing what they might to show the world, that it was the statesmen and politicians, not the people of the Northern States, who approved of this wicked, cruel law. His words roused others, who spoke to the same effect; and so that Convention was persuaded to adopt resolutions condemning the law. But quite a number of the prominent ministers of the denomination soon after gave strong utterance to an opposite opinion. I need mention but three. Rev. Dr. Lunt, of Quincy, preached a discourse on the “Divine Right of Government,” in which he endeavored to bring his hearers to the conclusion that, “wise, practical men would allow the laws of the land, which have been enacted in due form, to have their course and be executed, until we can so far change the current of public opinion that what is objectionable in those laws may be corrected.” He conceded, indeed, that “there are cases when rulers may be rightfully resisted, and when revolution is a duty; yet these are extreme cases, and require for their justification the most imperative necessity.” He said this all unconscious, it would seem, that such an extreme case was upon us; unconscious, and leaving his hearers unconscious, that the Fugitive Slave Law must be resisted, or the people of Massachusetts would consent to become menials of the slaveholders, kidnappers, robbers of men, bloodhounds.

The excellent Dr. E. S. Gannett, of Boston, was heard to say, more than once, very emphatically, and to justify it, “that he should feel it to be his duty to turn away from his door a fugitive slave,--unfed, unaided in any way, rather than set at naught the law of the land.”

And Rev. Dr. Dewey, whom we accounted one of the ablest expounders and most eloquent defenders of our Unitarian faith,--Dr. Dewey was reported to have said at two different times, in public lectures or speeches during the fall of 1850 and the winter of 1851, that “he would send his _mother_ into slavery, rather than endanger the Union, by resisting this law enacted by the constituted government of the nation.” He has often denied that he spoke thus of his “maternal relative,” and therefore I allow that he was misunderstood. But he has repeatedly acknowledged that he did say, “I would consent that my own brother, my own son, should go, _ten times rather_ would I go myself into slavery, than that this Union should be sacrificed.” The rhetoric of this sentence may be less shocking, but the principle that underlies it is equally immoral and demoralizing. It is, that the inalienable, God-given rights of man ought to be violated, outraged, rather than overturn or seriously endanger a human institution called a government.

Although our denomination at that time was numerically a very small one, yet it was so prominent, not only in Boston and its immediate vicinity, but before the whole nation, and in view of all the world, that it seemed to me to be a matter of great moral consequence that it should take and maintain a truly Christian stand respecting this high-handed, glaring attempt to bring our Northern free States into entire subjection to the slaveholding oligarchy. Therefore, at the next annual meeting of the American Unitarian Association, in May, 1851, I offered the following Preamble and Resolution:--

“Whereas, his Excellency, Millard Fillmore, whose official
signature made the Fugitive Slave Bill a law, is a _Unitarian_;
and the Hon. Daniel Webster, who exerted all his official and
personal influence to procure the passage of that bill, has
been until recently, if he is not now, a member of a Unitarian
church; and whereas, one of the only three Representatives from
New England, who voted for that bill, is the Hon. S. A. Eliot, a
distinguished Unitarian of Boston, known to have been educated for
the Unitarian ministry; and whereas, the present representative of
the United States Government at the Court of the British Empire is
a Unitarian, and his two immediate predecessors were once preachers
of this Gospel, and one of them, Hon. Edward Everett, has publicly
declared his approval of Mr. Webster’s course touching this most
wicked law; and whereas, the Hon. Jared Sparks, President of
Harvard College, and President of the Divinity School at Cambridge,
formerly a distinguished minister, and a very elaborate and able
expounder of our distinctive doctrines, is one of the number who
addressed a letter to Mr. Webster, commending him for what he had
said and done in behalf of the Fugitive Slave Law; and still more,
because the late President of this American Unitarian Association
(Dr. Dewey), one of the most popular preachers, expounders, and
champions of the Unitarian faith, has been more earnest and
emphatic than any man in his asseveration that this law, infernal
as it is, ought nevertheless to be obeyed; and because the
gentleman who this day retires from the highest position in our
ecclesiastical body, the Rev. Dr. Gannett, is understood to have
given his adhesion to this lowest of all laws, and several of the
distinguished, titled ministers of our denomination in and near
Boston, the head-quarters of Unitarians, have preached obedience to
_this law_,--

“We, therefore, feel especially called upon by the highest
considerations, at this, the first general gathering of our body,
since the above-named exposures of the unsoundness of our members,
to declare in the most public and emphatic manner that we consider
the Fugitive Slave Law a most fearful violation of the law of God,
as taught by Jesus Christ and his apostles, and, therefore, all
obedience to it is practical infidelity to the Author and Finisher
of the Christian faith, and to the impartial Father of the whole
human family.

“_Resolved_, Therefore, that we, the American Unitarian
Association, earnestly exhort all who would honor the Christian
name, but especially all who have embraced with us views of human
nature similar to those held up by our revered Channing,--to
remember those in bonds as bound with them; ever to attempt to do
for them, as we would that the now enslaved or fugitive should do
for us in an exchange of circumstances,--to comfort and aid them in
all their attempts to escape from their oppressors, and by no means
to betray the fugitives, or in any way assist or give the least
countenance to the cruel men who would return them to slavery.”

Both the Preamble and Resolutions were cordially seconded by Rev. Theodore Parker, and their adoption urged in a brief but most significant speech. The moment he had ceased speaking Henry Fuller, Esq., of Boston, sprang to his feet, and, in an impassioned manner, moved that the paper just read by the Rev. Mr. May, of Syracuse, be not even received by the Association. “This ecclesiastical body had nothing to do with such a political matter. The entertaining of the subject here would be indecorous, and only help to increase the alienation of feeling between the South and the North.” With equal warmth of manner and speech Rev. Joseph Richardson, of Hingham, seconded Mr. Fuller’s motion, and cut off all debate by calling for the “previous question.” So the motion not to receive my paper was put, and carried by twenty-seven to twenty-two.

The next day, at a meeting of the “Ministerial Conference,” which comprised all the clerical members of the American Unitarian Association, I proposed for adoption the same Preamble and Resolution, and am happy to add, with a much more gratifying result. The following is a very brief report of the discussion and action of that body, taken from _The Commonwealth_ of June 2, 1851:--

“Rev. Mr. Judd, of Augusta, Me., thought it the duty of the clergy
to speak freely upon the question of slavery, but with perfect
plainness to all parties. He approved of the sentiment of the
resolve, but disliked the preamble, as too personal in its language.

“Rev. Mr. May, of Syracuse, N. Y., said reference was made in the
resolve to those only whom the Conference had a right to mention,
namely, prominent Unitarians who had sustained the Fugitive Slave
Law.

“Rev. Dr. Hall, of Providence, R. I., thought that, as citizens, as
Unitarians, and as Christians, they were called upon to speak in
opposition to the law, but the right place should be selected, in
order that no false impression should be given in case the topic
should not be acted upon. For himself, he should not obey the law,
though the country went to pieces.

“Rev. Mr. Parker, of Boston, read extracts from an English paper,
showing the action of an ecclesiastical body abroad that had
resolved not to countenance or admit to its pulpits any of the
American clergy who uphold the Fugitive Slave Law or slavery.

“Rev. Mr. Holland, of Rochester, N. Y., deemed obedience to the law
a violation of conscience and duty. His voice and prayer were for
progress and liberty.

“Rev. Mr. Frost, of Concord, Mass., had had a committee of his
society ask him to abstain from preaching on slavery thenceforth.
He replied, that when the slave power had taken possession of the
departments of Government, controlled the decisions of our courts,
and influenced the moral position of the Church itself, glossing
over all the iniquities of the system, he should not keep silence.
Obedience to the Fugitive Law was treason to God; he preferred to
be disloyal to man.

“Rev. William H. Channing, of New York City, thought the Church
should take common ground against this national sin. But to the
slaveholder he would be fair and candid. He would meet him in
conclave, show him the evils of slavery, the worth of freedom,
and join with him in removing the willing free colored population
to the lands of the West, and as a remuneration give them the
blessings of free labor and social prosperity.

“Rev. Mr. Osgood, of New York City, admitted the iniquity of the
Fugitive Slave Law, and the sin of slavery, and thought them proper
subjects for pulpit discussion; but he wanted a moral influence to
be exerted, without a violation of Christian gentleness. He said
Rev. Mr. Furness, of Philadelphia, and Rev. Dr. Dewey, of New York,
had had a correspondence in reference to the latter’s position on
political questions, and he (Mr. Osgood) honestly believed, from
the results of that correspondence, and from conversations he
himself had held with the Doctor, that, in his support of the Slave
Law, he was making self-sacrifice to what he conceived his duty.

“Rev. Mr. Pierpont, of Medford, proclaimed the superiority of God’s
law to man’s law. He would not obey the latter when it interfered
with the former. The government might fine and imprison, but it
could do no more; he was mindful of the penalty, but he would
not obey. If all would act with him the law would fail of being
executed.

“Rev. Dr. Gannett, of Boston, was impressed with the immensity
of this question, the terrible awfulness that lay behind it, and
he would discuss it with all solemnity and seriousness in view
of the impending evil. He believed in his heart the maintenance
of government, the comfort of the people, _and the perpetuity of
our Union depended on the support of the Fugitive Law_. He would
not have the subject treated lightly, but prayerfully, fearfully,
in view of the great responsibilities resting upon it. We should
respect private convictions, and allow the integrity of motives of
those who differ with us.

“Rev. Mr. Ellis, of Charlestown, hailed that day as the first
when these differences had been rightly discussed. But if the
Conference, comprising members of different though honest views,
should take ground on this question, he should leave it. As an
organized body we have nothing to do with it. No action could be
binding, and he was unwilling to have the Conference interfere
with the question. He had himself ever entertained ultra-abolition
views, and did now; but he had no such fears for the Union as
Brother Gannett. If the Union was held together by so feeble a
tenure as here presented, he thought it was not worth saving; and
further, if our Northern land is to be the scouring-ground of
slave-hunters, the sooner the Union was sundered the better. But
our sphere of action did not allow interference with the question.

“Dr. Gannett spoke of the character of that parishioner of his who
returned a slave (Curtis). He had done so from convictions of his
constitutional obligations as an upholder of law and as a good
citizen, and he esteemed that a wrong was done him in stigmatizing
him as a ‘cruel’ man, because of that return, as the resolution
expressed it.

“On motion of Mr. Pierpont, the word ‘cruel’ was stricken out, and
the resolution having been previously altered so as to make it a
proposition for discussion rather than as a test for votes, it was
entered upon the records.

“The debate (of which I have given a very limited sketch) here
terminated by general consent, the feeling being almost unanimous
as expressed by the majority of the speakers.”

But the Unitarians as a body were by no means redeemed from the moral thraldom in which the whole nation was held. There was still among them so little heartfelt abhorrence of slavery and the Fugitive Slave Law, that the year after Mr. Fillmore was dropped from the presidency of the nation, which he had so dishonored, he was specially invited to preside at the Annual Festival of the Unitarians, to be given, if I remember correctly, in Faneuil Hall. He declined the honor proffered him, but our denomination was left to bear the shame of having asked him to receive an expression of our respect, as there was no protest against the action of the Committee.

THE RESCUE OF JERRY.

I should love to tell of the generous, daring, self-sacrificing conflicts with the abettors and minions of the slaveholders in different parts of our country. But I must leave those bright pages to be written by the historian of those times, and confine myself to that part of the field where I saw and was engaged in the fight.

In the early part of the summer of 1851 Mr. Webster travelled quite extensively about the country, exerting all his personal and official influence, and the remnants of his eloquence, to persuade the people to yield themselves to the requirements of the Fugitive Slave Law. On the 5th or 6th of June he came to Syracuse. He stood in a small balcony overlooking the yard in front of our City Hall and the intervening street. Of course he had a large audience. But his hearers generally were disappointed in his appearance and speech, and those who were not already members of the proslavery party were much offended at his authoritative, dictatorial, commanding tones and language. There is no need that I should give an abstract of what he said. It was but a rehash of his infamous speech in Congress on the 7th of March, 1850. At or near the close he said, in his severest manner, “Those persons in this city who mean to oppose the execution of the Fugitive Slave Law are traitors! traitors!! traitors!!! This law ought to be obeyed, and it will be enforced,--yes, it shall be enforced; in the city of Syracuse it shall be enforced, and that, too, in the midst of the next antislavery Convention, if then there shall be any occasion to enforce it.” Indignation flashed from many eyes in that assembly, and one might almost hear the gritting of teeth in defiance of the threat.

I stated on page 354 that at the meeting on the 12th of October, 1850, we commenced an association to co-operate and to bear one another’s burdens in defence of any among us who should be arrested as slaves. Many came into our agreement. We fixed upon a rendezvous, and agreed that any one of our number, who might know or hear of a person in danger, should toll the bell of an adjoining meeting-house in a particular manner, and that, on hearing that signal, we would all repair at once to the spot, ready to do and to dare whatever might seem to be necessary. Two or three times in the ensuing twelve months the alarm was given, but the cause for action was removed by the time we reached our rendezvous, excepting in one case, when it was thought advisable to send a guard to protect a threatened man to Auburn or Rochester.

But on the first day of October, 1851, a real and, as it proved to be, a signal case was given us. Whether it was given on that day intentionally to fulfil Mr. Webster’s prediction is known only to those who have not yet divulged the secret. There was, however, on that day an antislavery convention in Syracuse, and, moreover, a meeting of the County Agricultural Society, so that our city was unusually full of people, which proved to be favorable to our enterprise.

Just as I was about to rise from my dinner on that day I heard the signal-bell, and hurried towards the appointed place, nearly a mile from my home. But I had not gone half-way before I met the report that Jerry McHenry had been claimed as a slave, arrested by the police, and taken to the office of the Commissioner. So I turned my steps thither. The nearer I got to the place, the more persons I met, all excited, many of them infuriated by the thought that a man among us was to be carried away into slavery.

Jerry was an athletic mulatto, who had been residing in Syracuse for a number of years, and working quite expertly, it was said, as a cooper. I found him in the presence of the Commissioner with the District Attorney, who was conducting the trial,--a one-sided process, in which the agent of the claimant alone was to be heard in proof, that the prisoner was an escaped slave belonging to a Mr. Reynolds, of Missouri. The doomed man was not to be allowed to state his own case, nor refute the testimony of his adversary, however false it might be. While we were attending to the novel proceedings, Jerry, not being closely guarded, slipped out of the room under the guidance of a young man of more zeal than discretion, and in a moment was in the street below. The crowd cheered and made way for him, but no vehicle having been provided to help his escape, he was left to depend upon his agility as a runner. Being manacled, he could not do his best; but he had got off nearly half a mile, before the police officers and their partisans overtook him. I was not there to witness the meeting; but it was said the rencounter was a furious one. Jerry fought like a tiger, but fought against overwhelming odds. He was attacked behind and before and soon subdued. He was battered and bruised, his clothes sadly torn and bloody, and one rib cracked, if not broken. In this plight he was thrown upon a carman’s wagon, two policemen sat upon him, one across his legs, the other across his body, and thus confined he was brought down through the centre of the city, and put into a back room of the police office, the whole _posse_ being gathered there to guard him. The people, citizens and strangers, were alike indignant. As I passed amongst them I heard nothing but execrations and threats of release. Two or three times men came to me and said, “Mr. May, speak the word, and we’ll have Jerry out.” “And what will you do with him,” I replied, “when you get him out? You have just seen the bad effect of one ill-advised attempt to rescue him. Wait until proper arrangements are made. Stay near here to help at the right moment and in the right way. In a little while it will be quite dark, and then the poor fellow can be easily disposed of.”

Presently the Chief of the Police came to me, and said, “Jerry is in a perfect rage, a fury of passion; do come in and see if you can quiet him.” So I followed into the little room where he was confined. He was indeed a horrible object. I was left alone with him, and sat down by his side. So soon as I could get him to hear me, I said, “Jerry, do try to be calm.” “Would you be calm,” he roared out, “with these irons on you? What have I done to be treated so? Take off these handcuffs, and then if I do not fight my way through these fellows that have got me here,--then you may make me a slave.” Thus he raved on, until in a momentary interval I whispered, “Jerry, we are going to rescue you; do be more quiet!” “Who are you?” he cried. “How do I know you can or will rescue me?” After a while I told him by snatches what we meant to do, who I was, and how many there were who had come resolved to save him from slavery. At length he seemed to believe me, became more tranquil, and consented to lie down, so I left him. Immediately after I went to the office of the late Dr. Hiram Hoyt, where I found twenty or thirty picked men laying a plan for the rescue. Among them was Gerrit Smith, who happened to be in town attending the Liberty Party Convention. It was agreed that a skilful and bold driver in a strong buggy, with the fleetest horse to be got in the city, should be stationed not far off to receive Jerry, when he should be brought out. Then to drive hither and thither about the city until he saw no one pursuing him; not to attempt to get out of town, because it was reported that every exit was well guarded, but to return to a certain point near the centre of the city, where he would find two men waiting to receive his charge. With them he was to leave Jerry, and know nothing about the place of his retreat.

At a given signal the doors and windows of the police office were to be demolished at once, and the rescuers to rush in and fill the room, press around and upon the officers, overwhelming them by their numbers, not by blows, and so soon as they were confined and powerless by the pressure of bodies about them, several men were to take up Jerry and bear him to the buggy aforesaid. Strict injunctions were given, and it was agreed not intentionally to injure the policemen. Gerrit Smith and several others pressed this caution very urgently upon those who were gathered in Dr. Hoyt’s office. And the last thing I said as we were coming away was, “If any one is to be injured in this fray, I hope it may be one of our own party.”

The plan laid down as I have sketched it was well and quickly executed, about eight o’clock in the evening. The police office was soon in our possession. One officer in a fright jumped out of a window and seriously injured himself. Another officer fired a pistol and slightly wounded one of the rescuers. With these exceptions there were no personal injuries. The driver of the buggy managed adroitly, escaped all pursuers, and about nine o’clock delivered Jerry into the hands of Mr. Jason S. Hoyt and Mr. James Davis. They led him not many steps to the house of the late Caleb Davis, who with his wife promptly consented to give the poor fellow a shelter in their house, at the corner of Genesee and Orange Streets. Here they at once cut off his shackles, and after some refreshing food put him to bed. Now the excitement was over, Jerry was utterly exhausted, and soon became very feverish. A physician was called, who dressed his wounds and administered such medicine as was applicable. But rest, sleep, was what he needed, and he enjoyed them undisturbed for five days,--only four or five persons, besides Mr. and Mrs. Davis, knowing what had become of Jerry. It was generally supposed he had gone to Canada. But the next Sunday evening, just after dark, a covered wagon with a span of very fleet horses was seen standing for a few minutes near the door of Mr. Caleb Davis’s house. Mr. Jason S. Hoyt and Mr. James Davis were seen to help a somewhat infirm man into the vehicle, jump in themselves, and start off at a rapid rate. Suspicion was awakened, and several of the “patriots” of our city set off in pursuit of the “traitors.” The chase was a hot one for eight or ten miles, but Jerry’s deliverers had the advantage on the start, and in the speed of the horses that were bearing him to liberty. They took him that night about twenty miles to the house of a Mr. Ames, a Quaker, in the town of Mexico. There he was kept concealed several days, and then conveyed to the house of a Mr. Clarke, on the confines of the city of Oswego. This gentleman searched diligently nearly a week for a vessel that would take Jerry across to the dominions of the British Queen. He dared not trust a Yankee captain, and the English vessels were so narrowly watched, that it was not until several days had elapsed that he was able to find one who would undertake to transport a fugitive slave over the lake. At length the captain of a small craft agreed to set sail after dark, and when well off on the lake to hoist a light to the top of his mast, that his whereabouts might be known. Mr. Clarke took Jerry to a less frequented part of the shore, embarked with him in a small boat, and rowed him to the little schooner of the friendly captain. By him he was taken to Kingston, where he soon was established again in the business of a cooper. Not many days after his arrival there we received a letter from him, expressing in the warmest terms his gratitude for what the Abolitionists in Syracuse had done in his behalf. After pouring out a heartful of thanks to us, he assured us that he had been led to think more than ever before of his indebtedness to God,--the ultimate Source of all goodness,--and had been brought to the resolution to lead a purer, better life than he had ever done. We heard afterwards that he was well married, and was living comfortably and respectably. But, ere the fourth year of his deliverance had closed, he was borne away to that world where there never was and never will be a slaveholder nor a slave.

Foiled in their attempt to lay a tribute at the feet of the Southern oligarchy, the officers of the United States Government set about to punish us “traitors,” who had evinced so much more regard for “the rights of man conferred by God” than for a wicked law enacted by Congress. Eighteen of us were indicted. The accusation was brought before Judge Conkling at Auburn. Thither, therefore, the accused were taken. But we went accompanied by nearly a hundred of our fellow-citizens, many of them the most prominent men of Syracuse, with not a few ladies. So soon as the indictment was granted, and bailors called for, Hon. William H. Seward stepped forward and put his name first upon the bond. His good example was promptly followed, and the required amount was quickly pledged by a number of our most responsible gentlemen. Mr. Seward then invited the rescuers of Jerry and their friends, especially the ladies, to his house, where all were hospitably entertained until it was time for us to return to Syracuse.

But the hand of law was not laid upon the friends of Jerry alone. James Lear, the agent of his claimant, and the Deputy Marshal who assisted him, were arrested on warrants for attempting to kidnap a citizen of Syracuse. They, however, easily escaped conviction on the plea that they were acting under a law of the United States.

Many of the political newspapers were emphatic in their condemnation of our resistance to the law, and only a few ventured to justify it. _The Advertiser_ and _The American_ of Rochester, _The Gazette_ and _Observer_ of Utica, _The Oneida Whig_, _The Register_, _The Argus_, and _The Express_ of Albany, _The Courier and Inquirer_ and _The Express_ of New York, although of opposite political parties, were agreed in pronouncing “the rescue of Jerry a disgraceful, demoralizing, and alarming act.”

A mass convention of the citizens of Onondaga County, called to consider the propriety of the rescue, met in our City Hall on the 15th of October, and with entire unanimity passed a series of resolutions fully justifying and applauding the deed.

Ten days afterwards, an opposing convention of the city and county was held in the same place, and sent forth an opposite opinion, but not without dissent.

In one of our city papers I was called out by three of my fellow-citizens as the one more responsible than any other for the rescue of Jerry, and was challenged to justify such an open defiance of a law of my country. Thus was the subject kept before the public, and the questions involved in it were pretty thoroughly discussed.

Meanwhile the United States District Attorney was not neglectful of his official duty. He summoned several of the indicted ones to trial at Buffalo, at Albany, and at Canandaigua. But he did not obtain a conviction in either case. Gerrit Smith, Charles A. Wheaton, and myself published in the papers an acknowledgment that we had assisted all we could in the rescue of Jerry; that we were ready for trial; would give the Court no trouble as to the fact, and should rest our defence upon the unconstitutionality and extreme wickedness of the Fugitive Slave Law. The Attorney did not, however, see fit to bring the matter to that test. He brought a poor colored man--Enoch Reed--to trial at Albany, and summoned me as one of the witnesses against him. When called to the stand to tell the jury all that I knew of Mr. Reed’s participation in the rescue, I testified that I saw him doing what hundreds of others did or attempted to do, and that he was not particularly conspicuous in that good work. The Attorney was much offended. He assured the Judge that I knew much more about the matter than I had told the jury, and requested him to remind me of my oath to tell the whole truth. When the Court had so admonished me, I bowed and said: “May it please your Honor, I do know all about the rescue of Jerry; and if the prosecuting officer will arraign Gerrit Smith, Charles A. Wheaton or myself, I shall have occasion to tell the jury all about the transaction. I have now truly given the jury all the testimony I have to give respecting the prisoner at the bar.”

Of course Enoch Reed was acquitted, and no other one of those indicted was convicted. The last attempt to procure a conviction was made at Canandaigua, before Judge Hall, of the United States District Court, in the autumn of 1852. A few days before the setting of that Court, Mr. Gerrit Smith sent copies of a handbill to be distributed in that village and the surrounding country, announcing that he would be in Canandaigua at the time of the Court, and speak to the people who might assemble to hear him, on the atrocious wickedness of the Fugitive Slave Law.

On his arrival at Canandaigua, Mr. Smith found all the public buildings closed against him. He therefore requested that a wagon might be drawn into an adjoining pasture, and notice given that he would speak there. At the appointed hour a large assembly had gathered to hear him. He addressed them in his most impressive manner. He exposed fully the great iniquity that was about to be attempted in the court-room hard by,--the iniquity of sentencing a man as guilty of a crime for doing that which, in the sight of God, was innocent, praiseworthy,--yes, required by the Golden Rule. He argued to the jurors, who might be in the crowd surrounding him, that, whatever might be the testimony given them to prove that Jerry was a slave; whatever words might be quoted from statutes or constitutions to show that a man can be by law turned into a slave, a chattel, the property of another man, they nevertheless might, with a good conscience, bring in a verdict acquitting any one of crime, who should be accused before them of having helped to rescue a fellow-man from those who would make him a slave. “If,” said he, “the ablest lawyer should argue before you, and quote authorities to prove that an article which you know to be wood is stone or iron, would you consent to regard it as stone or iron, and bring in a verdict based upon such a supposition, even though the judge in his charge should instruct you so to do? I trust not. So neither should any argument or amount of testimony or weight of authorities satisfy you that a man is a chattel. Jurors cannot be bound more than other persons to believe an absurdity.”

The United States Attorney, Mr. Garvin, found that he could not empanel a jury upon which there were not several who had formed an opinion against the law. So he let all the “Jerry Rescue Causes” fall to the ground forever.

At the time of this his boldest, most defiant act, Mr. Smith was a member of Congress. For this reason “his contempt of the Court,” “his disrespect for the forms of law, the precedents of judicial decisions, and the authority of the constitution,” was pronounced by “the wise and prudent” to be the more shameful, mischievous, and alarming. But “the common people” could not be easily convinced that any wrong could be so great as enslaving a man, nor that it was criminal to help him escape from servile bondage.

My readers will readily believe that we exulted not a little in the triumph of our exploit. For several years afterwards we celebrated the 1st of October as the anniversary of the greatest event in the history of Syracuse. Either because, in 1852, there was no hall in our city capacious enough to accommodate so large a meeting as we expected, or else because we could not obtain the most capacious hall,--for one or the other of these reasons,--the first anniversary of the Rescue of Jerry was celebrated in the rotunda of the New York Central Railroad, just then completed for the accommodation of the engines. John Wilkinson, Esq., at that time President of the road, promptly, and without our solicitation, proffered the use of the building, large enough to hold thousands. It was well filled. Gerrit Smith presided, and the speeches made by him, by Mr. Garrison, and other prominent Abolitionists, together with the letters of congratulation received from Hon. Charles Sumner, Rev. Theodore Parker, and others, would fill a volume, half the size of this, with the most exalted political and moral sentiments, and not a few passages of sublime eloquence.

After our triumph over the Fugitive Slave Law, we Abolitionists in Central New York enjoyed for several years a season of comparative peace. We held our regular and our occasional antislavery meetings without molestation, and were encouraged in the belief that our sentiments were coming to be more generally received. The Republican party was evidently bound to become an abolition party. Hon. Charles Sumner was doing excellent service in the Senate of the United States, and Hon. Henry Wilson and others in Congress were seconding his efforts, to bring the legislators of our nation to see and own that the institution of slavery was utterly incompatible with a free, democratic government, and irreconcilable with the Christian religion.

Still we could perceive no signs of repentance in the slaveholding States, and had despaired of a _peaceful_ settlement of the great controversy. How soon the appeal to the arbitrament of war would come we could not predict; but we saw it to be inevitable. All, therefore, that remained for the friends of our country and of humanity to do, was diligently to disseminate throughout the non-slaveholding States a just appreciation of the great question at issue between the North and the South; a true respect for the God-given rights of man, which our nation had so impiously dared to trample upon; and the sincere belief that nothing less than the extermination of slavery from our borders could insure the true union of the States and the prosperity of our Republic. To this work of patriotism, as well as benevolence, therefore, we addressed ourselves so long as the terrible chastisement which our nation had incurred was delayed.

Wellnigh exhausted by my unremitted attention to the duties of my profession, and to the several great reforms that have signalized the last fifty years, I was persuaded to go to Europe for recreation and the recovery of my health. I spent six months of the year 1859 on the Continent, and three months in England, Scotland, and Ireland.

Numerous as are the interesting places and persons to be seen in each of these last-named countries, I must confess that my greatest attraction to them was the expectation of seeing many of the friends of liberty, who had co-operated so generously with us for the abolition of slavery. And in this respect I was not disappointed. I lectured by request to large audiences in several of the chief cities of the kingdom. But, what was much better, I had meetings for conversation with the prominent Abolitionists, especially in London, Glasgow, and Dublin. These were numerously attended, and the intelligent questions put to me, by those who were so well informed and so deeply interested in the cause of my enslaved countrymen, saved me from misspending a minute on the commonplaces of the subject, and led me to give our friends the most recent information of the kinds they craved.

I remember particularly the conversations that I had in Glasgow and Dublin. The former was held in the ample, well-stored library room of Professor Nichol of the University of that city. His wife was, a few years before, Miss Elizabeth Pease, one of the earliest, best-informed, and most liberal of our English fellow-laborers. He promptly concurred with her in cordially inviting me to his home. And on my second or third visit, he had gathered there to meet me the prominent Abolitionists of the city and immediate neighborhood. He presided at the meeting, and introduced me in a most comprehensive and impressive speech on human freedom,--the paramount right of man,--of all men,--demanding protection wherever it was denied or endangered from all who can give it aid, without consideration of distance or nationality. That well-spent evening I shall never forget, especially his and his wife’s contributions of wise thought and elevated sentiment. But my too brief personal acquaintance with them is kept more sacred in my memory by his death, which happened soon after, and an intensely interesting incident connected with it.

At Dublin and its vicinity I spent a fortnight,--too short a time. But I had the happiness, while there, of seeing face to face several of our warm-hearted sympathizers and active co-laborers, especially James Haughton, Esq., and Richard D. Webb. The former I found to be more engaged in the cause of Peace, and much more of Temperance, than in the antislavery cause. Indeed, in the cause of Temperance he had done then, and has done since, more than any other man in Ireland, excepting Father Matthew. Still, he had always been, and was then, heartily in earnest for the abolition of slavery everywhere.

But Richard D. Webb could hardly have taken a more active part with American Abolitionists, or have rendered us much more valuable services, if he had been a countryman of ours, and living in our midst. The readers of _The Liberator_ cannot have forgotten how often communications from his pen appeared in its columns, nor how thorough an acquaintance they evinced with whatever pertained to our conflict with “the peculiar institution,” that great anomaly in our democracy. Mr. Webb was afterwards the author of an excellent memoir of John Brown, whose “soul is still marching on,”--the spirit of whose hatred of oppression, and sympathy with the down-trodden, is spreading wider and descending deeper into the hearts of our people, and will continue so to spread, until every vestige of slavery shall be effaced from our land, and all the inhabitants thereof shall enjoy equal rights and privileges on the same conditions. Mr. Webb’s memoir shows how justly he appreciated and how heartily he admired the intentions of John Brown, whatever he thought of the expediency of his plan of operations. For a week I enjoyed the hospitality of Mrs. Edmundson, and at her house met one evening many of the moral _élite_ of Dublin, for conversation respecting the conflict with slavery in our country. Their inquiries showed them to be very well informed on the subject, and alive to whatever then seemed likely to affect the issue favorably or unfavorably.

Lord Morpeth, who was at that time Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, graciously invited me to lunch with him. He had visited our country a few years before, and had manifested while here the deepest interest in the principles and purposes of the Abolitionists. I was delighted to find that he and his sister, Lady Howard, continued to be as much concerned as ever for our success.

On my return from Europe, early in November, 1859, the steamer stopped as usual at Halifax. There we first received the tidings of John Brown’s raid, and the failure of his enterprise. I felt at once that it was “the beginning of the end” of our conflict with slavery. There were several Southern gentlemen and ladies among our fellow-passengers, and Northern sympathizers with them, as well as others of opposite opinions. During our short passage from Halifax to Boston there was evidently a deep excitement in many bosoms. Occasionally words of bitter execration escaped the lips of one and another of the proslavery party. But there was no dispute or general conversation upon the subject. The event, of which we had just heard, was a portent of too much magnitude to be hastily estimated, and the consequences thereof flippantly foretold.

On my arrival in Boston, and the next day in Syracuse, I found the public in a state of high excitement; and for two or three months the case of John Brown was the subject of continual debate in private circles as well as public meetings. The murmurs and threats that came daily from the South, intimated plainly enough that the slaveholding oligarchy were preparing for something harsher than a war of words. They were gathering themselves to rule or ruin our Republic. Under the imbecile administration of Mr. Buchanan, the Secretary of War, John B. Floyd, could do as he saw fit in his department. It was observed that the arms and ammunition of the nation, with the greater part of the small army needed in times of peace, were removed and disposed of in such places as would make them most available to the Southerners, if the emergency for which they were preparing should come. They awaited only the issue of the next presidential contest. The first ten months of the year 1860 were given to that contest. All the strength of the two political parties was put in requisition, drawn out, and fully tested and compared. And when victory crowned the friends of freedom and human rights,--when the election of Mr. Lincoln was proclaimed,--then came forth from the South the fierce cry of disunion, and the standard of a new Confederacy was set up. It is not my intention to enter upon the period of our Civil War. These Recollections will close with occurrences before the fall of Fort Sumter.

In pursuance of a plan adopted several years before, by the American Antislavery Society, arrangements were made early in December, 1860, to hold our annual conventions during the months of January and February, in Buffalo, Syracuse, Albany, and in a dozen other of the principal cities and villages between the two extremes. We who had devoted ourselves so assiduously for a quarter of a century or more to the subversion of the slavery in our land, of course had many thoughts and feelings upon the subject at that time, which pressed for utterance. We were the last persons who could be indifferent to the state of our country in 1860, or be silent in view of it. Nor had we any reason then to suppose that our counsels and admonitions would be particularly unacceptable to the people, as we were then frequently assured that the public sentiment of New York, as well as New England, had become quite antislavery.

We were not a little surprised, therefore, at the new outbreak of violent opposition in Boston, and afterwards in Buffalo and other places. About the middle of January I attended the convention at Rochester, where we were rudely treated and grossly insulted. I could no longer doubt that there was a concerted plan, among the Democrats everywhere, to evince a revival of their zeal in behalf of their Southern partisans by breaking up our meetings. And it appeared that the Republicans were afraid to take the responsibility, and incur the new odium of protecting our conventions in their constitutional rights. Still I hoped better things of Syracuse.

But a few days before the time appointed for our Convention, I was earnestly requested by the Mayor of the city to prevent the holding of such a meeting. I replied I would do so, if there was indeed so little respect for the liberty of speech in Syracuse that the assembly would be violently dispersed. In answer to this, his Honor assured me that, much as he wished we would forbear to exercise our undoubted right, still, if we felt it to be our duty to hold the convention, “he would fearlessly use every means at his command to secure order, and to prevent any interference with our proceedings.” Thus he took from me the only apology I could offer to our Committee of Arrangements for interposing to prevent the assembling of a meeting, which they had called in accordance with the duty assigned them.

A day or two afterwards I received a letter, written probably at the solicitation of the Mayor, and signed by twenty of the most respectable gentlemen of Syracuse (ten of them prominent members of my church), urging me to prevent the holding of the convention, as “they were credibly informed that an organized and forcible effort would be made to oppose us, and a collision might ensue between the police force of the city and a lawless mob.” Still, they assured me that they recognized our right to hold such a convention, and “that they should be in duty bound to aid in protecting us if we did assemble.” I felt obliged to answer them very much as I had answered the Mayor, and added what follows:--

“In common with my associates, I am very sincere in believing that the principles we inculcate, and the measures we advise, are the only ones that can (without war) extirpate from our country the root of that evil which now overshadows us, and threatens our ruin. We have much to say to the people, much that we deem it very important that they should hear and believe, lest they bow themselves to another compromise with the slaveholding oligarchy, which for many years has really ruled our Republic, and which nothing will satisfy but the entire subjugation of our liberties to their supposed interests.

“We perceive that the ‘strong’ men of the Republican party are trembling, and concession and compromise are coming to be their policy. We deprecate their fears, their want of confidence in moral principle and in God. We therefore feel deeply urged to cry aloud, and warn the people of the snare into which politicians would lead them. We are bound at least to _offer_ to them the word of truth, whether they will hear or whether they will forbear.

“If, gentlemen, you had assured me that our proposed meeting will be violently assaulted; that those who may assemble peacefully to listen will not be allowed to hear us; that they will be dispersed with insult if not with personal injury; and that you, gentlemen of influence as you are, shall stand aside and let the violent have their way; then I should have felt it to be incumbent on me to advertise the friends of liberty and humanity that it would not be worth their while to convene here, as it would be only to be dispersed.

“But, gentlemen, as you generously ‘affirm,’ in the letter before me, ‘that your duties as citizens will require you to aid in extending protection to our convention, in case it shall be convened, in the exercise of all the rights which all deliberative bodies may claim,’ and as the Mayor of our city has assured me that ‘he shall fearlessly use every means at his command to secure order and to prevent any interference with our proceedings,’ I should not be justified in assuming the responsibility of postponing the convention. For, gentlemen, if you will do what you acknowledge to be your duty, and if the Mayor will fulfil his generous promise, I am confident the rioters will be overawed, the liberty of speech will be vindicated, and our city rescued from a deep disgrace.

“Yours, gentlemen, in great haste, but very respectfully,

“SAMUEL J. MAY.”

Just before the hour appointed for the opening of the convention, on the 29th of January, 1861, I went to the hall which I had hired for its accommodation. It was already fully occupied by the rioters. A meeting had been organized, and the chairman was making his introductory speech. So soon as he had finished it, I addressed him: “Mr. Chairman, there is some mistake here, or a greater wrong. More than a week ago I engaged this hall for our Annual Antislavery Convention to be held at this hour.” Immediately, several rough men turned violently upon me, touched my head and face with their doubled fists, and swore they would knock me down, and thrust me out of the hall, if I said another word. Meanwhile, the Rev. Mr. Strieby, of the Plymouth Church, had succeeded in getting upon the platform, and had commenced a remonstrance, when he was set upon in like manner, and threatened with being thrown down and put out, if he did not desist at once.

The only police officer that I saw in the hall soon after rose, addressed the chairman and said: “I came here, Sir, by order of the Mayor, who had heard that there was to be a disturbance, and that the liberty of speech would be outraged here. But I see no indications of such an intended wrong. The meeting seems to me to be an orderly one, properly organized. I approve the objects of the meeting as set forth in your introductory speech, and trust you will have a quiet time.”

Thus dispossessed, we of course retired, and, after consultation, agreed to gather as many of the members of the intended convention, as could be found, at the dwelling-house of Dr. R. W. Pease, who generously proffered us the use of it. A large number of ladies and gentlemen assembled there early in the evening, and were duly organized. Pertinent and impressive addresses were made by Beriah Green, Aaron M. Powell, Susan B. Anthony, C. D. B. Mills, and others, after which a series of resolutions was passed, of which the following were the most important:--