Читать книгу Dealings with the Dead (Vol. 1&2) - Lucius M. Sargent - Страница 49

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Delenda est Carthago—abolendum est servitium.—No doubt of it; slavery must be buried—decently, however. I cannot endure rudeness and violence, at a funeral. John Cades, in Charter Street, lost his place, in 1789, for letting old Goody Smith go by the run. The naufragium of Erasmus, was nothing at all, compared with that of the old lady’s coffin. Our Southern confederates are entitled to civility, because they are men and brethren; and they are entitled to kindness and courtesy from us, of Boston, because we owe them a debt of gratitude, which it would be shameful to forget. Since we, of the North, have presumed to be undertakers upon this occasion, let us do the thing “decenter et ornate.” Besides, our friends of the South are notoriously testy and hot-headed: they are, geographically, children of the sun. John Smith’s description of the Massachusetts Indians, in 1614, Richmond ed., ii. 194, is truly applicable to the Southern people, “very kind, but, in their fury, no less valiant.”

I am no more inclined to uphold the South, in the continued practice of a moral wrong, because they gave us bread when we were hungry, as they certainly did, than was Sir Matthew Hale, to decide favorably for the suitor, who sent him the fat buck. Nullum simile quatuor pedibus currit—the South, when they bestowed their kindness upon us, during the operation of the Boston Port Bill, had no possible favor to ask, in return.

This famous Port Bill, which operated like guano upon Liberty Tree, and caused it to send forth a multitude of new and vigorous shoots, was an act of revenge and coercion, passed March 31, 1774, by the British Parliament.

No government was ever so penny wise and pound foolish, as that of Great Britain, in 1773-’4. They actually sacrificed thirteen fine, flourishing colonies for three pence! In 1773 the East India Company, suffering from the bad effects of the smuggling trade, in the colonies, all taxation having been withdrawn, by Great Britain, excepting on tea, proposed, for the purpose of quieting the strife, to sell their tea, free of all duties, in the Colonies, and that sixpence a pound should be retained by the Government, on exportation. But the Government insisted upon three pence worth of dignity; in other words, for the honor of the Crown, they resolved, that the colonists should pay three pence a pound, import duty. This was a very poor bargain—a crown for three pence! Well; I have no room for detail—the tea came; some of it went back again; and the balance was tossed into the sea. It was not suffered to be landed, at Philadelphia and New York. Seventeen chests, brought to New York, on private account, says Gordon, vol. i. page 333, were thrown overboard, Nov. 18, 1773, and combustibles were prepared to burn the ships, if they came up from the Hook. Dec. 16, 1773, three hundred and twenty-four chests of tea were broken open, on board the ships, in Boston, and their contents thrown into the salt water, by a “number of persons,” says Gordon, vol. i. page 341, “chiefly masters of vessels and shipbuilders from the north end of the town,” dressed as Indians.

In consequence of this, the Port Bill was passed. The object of this bill was to beggar—commercially to neutralize or nullify—the town of Boston, by shutting the port, and cutting off all import and export, by sea, until full compensation should be made, for the tea destroyed, and to the officers of the revenue, and others, who had suffered, by the riots, in the years 1773 and 1774. Such was the Port Bill, whose destructive operation was directed, upon the port of Boston alone, under a fatal misunderstanding of the British government, in relation to the real unanimity of the American people.

It is no easy matter, to describe the effect of this act of folly and injustice. The whole country seemed to be affected, with a sort of political neuralgia; and the attack upon Boston, like a wound upon some principal nerve, convulsed the whole fabric. The colonies resembled a band of brothers—“born for affliction:” a blow was no sooner aimed at one, than the remaining twelve rushed to the rescue, each one interposing an ægis. In no part of the country, were there more dignified, or more touching, or more substantial testimonies of sympathy manifested, for the people of Boston, than in the Southern States; and especially in Virginia, Maryland, and both the Carolinas.

The Port Bill came into force, June 1, 1774. The Marylanders of Annapolis, on the 25th of May preceding, assembled, and resolved, that Boston was “suffering in the common cause of America.” On the 30th, the magistrates, and other inhabitants of Queen Anne’s County resolved, in full meeting, that they would “make known, as speedily as possible, their sentiments to their distressed brethren of Boston, and that they looked upon the cause of Boston to be the common cause of America.” The House of Burgesses, in Virginia, appointed the day, when the Boston Port Bill came into operation, as a day of fasting and prayer, throughout the ancient dominion. A published letter, from Kent County, Maryland, dated June 7, 1774, says—“The people of Boston need not be afraid of being starved into compliance; if they will only give a short notice, they may make their town the granary of America.”

June 24, 1774.—Twenty-four days after the Port Bill went into operation, a public meeting was held at Charleston, S. C. The moving spirits were the Trapiers and the Elliots, the Horries and the Clarksons, the Gadsdens and the Pinkneys of that day; and resolutions were passed, full of brotherly love and sympathy, for the inhabitants of Boston.

“Baltimore, July 16th, 1774.—A vessel hath sailed from the Eastern Shore of this Province, with a cargo of provisions as a free gift to our besieged brethren of Boston. The inhabitants of all the counties of Virginia and Maryland are subscribing, with great liberality, for the relief of the distressed towns of Boston and Charlestown. The inhabitants of Alexandria, we hear, in a few hours, subscribed £350, for that noble purpose. Subscriptions are opened in this town, for the support and animation of Boston, under their present great conflict, for the common freedom of us all. A vessel is now loading with provisions, as a testimony of the affection of this people towards their persecuted brethren.”

“Salem, Aug. 23, 1774.—Yesterday arrived at Marblehead, Capt. Perkins, from Baltimore, with 3000 bushels of corn, 20 barrels of rye meal, and 21 barrels of bread, for the benefit of the poor of Boston, and with 1000 bushels of corn from Annapolis, for the same benevolent purpose.”

“New York, Aug. 15, 1774.—Saturday last, Capt. Dickerson arrived here, and brought 376 barrels of rye from South Carolina, to be sold, and proceeds remitted to Boston, a present to the sufferers; a still larger cargo is to be shipped for the like benevolent purpose.”

“Newport, R. I.—Capt. Bull, from Wilmington, North Carolina, arrived here last Tuesday, with a load of provisions for the poor of Boston; to sail again for Salem.”

These testimonies of a kind and brotherly spirit, came from all quarters of the country. These illustrations might be multiplied to any extent. I pass by the manifestations of the most cordial sympathy from other colonies, and the contributions from the towns and villages around us—my business lies, at present with the South—and my object is to remind some of the more rampant and furious of my abolition friends, who are of yesterday, that the people of the South, however hasty they may be, living under the sun’s fiercer rays, and however excited, when a Northern man, however respectable, comes to take up his quarters in their midst, and gather evidence against them, under their very noses—are not precisely outside barbarians.

Let the work of abolition go forward, in a dignified and decent spirit. Let us argue; and, so far as we rightfully may, let us legislate. Let us bring the whole world’s sympathy up to the work of emancipation. But, let us not revile and vituperate those, who are, to all intents and purposes, our brethren, as certainly as if they lived just over the Roxbury line, instead of Mason’s and Dixon’s. Such harsh and unmitigated scoffing and abuse, as we too often witness, are equally ungracious, ungentlemanly, and ungrateful.

There is something strangely grotesque, to be sure, in the idea of calling a state, in which there are more slaves than freemen, the land of liberty. Our Massachusetts ancestors had a very good theoretical conception of its inconsistency and absurdity, as early as 1773; when the first glimmerings of independence began to come over the spirit of their dreams. In that year, the Massachusetts negroes caught the liberty fever, and presented a petition to have their fetters knocked off. May 17, 1773, the inhabitants of Pembroke addressed a respectfully suggestive letter to their representative in the General Court, John Turner; the last paragraph of which is well worthy of republication. The entire letter may be found in the Boston Gazette of June 14, 1773—“We think the negro petition reasonable—agreeable to natural justice and the precepts of the Gospel; and therefore advise that, in concurrence with the other worthy members of the assembly, you endeavor to find a way, in which they may be freed from slavery, without wrong to their present masters, or injury to themselves—and that a total abolition of slavery may in due time take place. Then we trust we may with humble confidence, look up to the Great Arbiter of Heaven and earth, expecting that he will in his own due time, look upon our affliction, and in the way of his Providence, deliver us from the insults, the grievances, and impositions we so justly complain of.” This, as the reader will remember, had reference to slavery in Massachusetts.