Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and letters of Charles Sumner: volume 3

Chapter 36: first session in Congress.—welcome to Kossuth.—public lands in the West.—the Fugitive Slave Law.—1851-1852.

Sumner takes his last dinner with us. In a few days he will he gone to Washington for the winter. We shall miss him much. He passed the night here as in the days of long ago. We sat up late talking.

Again, November 30:—

We had a solitary dinner, missing Sumner very much. He is now in Washington, and it will be many days before we hear again his footsteps in the hall, or see his manly, friendly face by daylight or lamplight.

He wrote to Sumner, December 25:—

Your farewell note came safe and sad; and on Sunday no well-known footstep in the hall, nor sound of cane laid upon the table. We ate our dinner somewhat silently by ourselves, and talked of you far off, looking at your empty chair. . . . As I stand here by my desk and cast a glance out of the window, and then at the gate, I almost expect to see you with one foot on the stone step and one hand on the fence holding final discourse with Worcester.

In New York Sumner made a few calls, among them one on Joshua Leavitt, at the office of the ‘Independent,’ where he met for the first time Rev. J. P. Thompson.² John Bigelow came [259] to dine with him; but John Van Buren, who was invited, was unable to accept. From his lodgings at Delmonico's he wrote on the 26th, Thanksgiving Day, letters to relatives and friends, full of tenderness, and showing with what concern he entered on his new career:—

My very dear Julia,—Your parting benediction and God-speed, mingling with mother's, made my heart overflow. I thank you both. They will cheer, comfort, and strengthen me in duties where there are many difficulties and great responsibilities. For myself, I do not desire public life; I have neither taste nor ambition for it; but Providence has marked out my career, and I follow. Many will criticise and malign; but I shall persevere. . . . Good-by. With constant love to mother and yourself,

Charles.

dearest Longfellow,—I could not speak to you as we parted,—my soul was too full; only tears would flow. Your friendship, and dear Fanny's, have been among my few treasures, like gold unchanging. For myself, I see with painful vividness the vicissitudes and enthralments of the future, and feel that we shall never more know each other as in times past. Those calm days and nights of overflowing communion are gone. Thinking of them and of what I lose, I become again a child. From a grateful heart I now thank you for your true and constant friendship. Whatever may be in store for me, so much at least is secure; and the memory of you and Fanny will be to me a precious fountain. God bless you both, ever dear friends, faithful and good! Be happy, and think kindly of me.

dearest Howe,—Three times yesterday I wept like a child,—I could not help it: first in parting with Longfellow, next in parting with you, and lastly as I left my mother and sister. I stand now on the edge of a great change. In the vicissitudes of life I cannot see the future; but I know that I now move away from those who have been more than brothers to me. My soul is wrung, and my eyes are bleared with tears. God bless you ever and ever, my noble, well-tried, and eternally dear friend!

Sumner's lodgings in Washington, engaged on a visit he had made there in October for the purpose, were at D. A. Gardner's, New York Avenue, between Fourteenth and Fifteenth streets, on the same floor with the street. His simple breakfast of coffee, roll, and eggs was taken in his room. He took his dinner, his only other meal, at a French restaurant, where a few weeks later Judge Rockwell of Connecticut, member of Congress, and Sibbern, the Swedish minister, joined with him in a mess. He was present in the Senate Dec. 1, 1851, the first day of the Thirtysecond Congress. His colleague, John Davis, being absent from his seat, though in Washington, when the session began, his credentials were presented by Mr. Cass, whom he invited to do the [260] service as ‘his oldest personal friend in the body.’ The other senators who took the oath at the same time were Hamilton Fish of New York, Benjamin F. Wade of Ohio, James of Rhode Island, and Geyer of Missouri. Later in the day Mallory of Florida was sworn. Sumner had selected a seat on the Democratic side of the chamber,—one recently occupied by Jefferson Davis, who had resigned,—by the side of Chase, and in close proximity to the senators from Virginia and South Carolina.³ He had only two political associates,—Chase of Ohio and Hale of New Hampshire; the former chosen by a combination of Free Soilers and Democrats, and the latter by a combination of antislavery men and Whigs. From John Davis, his own colleague, he could expect nothing but personal civility. In sentiment, if not often in action, he could count on a certain measure of sympathy from Seward, who was, however, politic and bent on maintaining his position as a Whig leader,⁴ and from Wade, who was sincere in his antislavery convictions as well as fearless, but who failed in steadiness and adequate preparation for the contests of the Senate. Hamlin, of maine, was now opposed to any scheme for the extension of slavery, but was unhappily constrained by his position as a supporter of the Democratic party, then controlled by the slaveholding interest. Chase and Sumner were well known to each other before, both in correspondence and personal interviews, and their relations were to continue most intimate and confidential until the former's term expired in 1855.

In point of ability and character the Senate was not then at its best.⁵ It had seen better days, and was again to see better [261] days. Cass had long enjoyed the advantage of various public service abroad as well as at home, and could speak for an indefinite length of time on any question; but nothing ever came from him which was not prosaic and commonplace. Soule was a brilliant man, the one brilliant representative of the South and Southwest. He had been a partisan of freedom in the Old World, as he would probably have been in the New but for his slaveholding environment. Mrs. Stowe recognized in him ‘the impersonation of nobility and chivalry,’ and even hoped that he might become the Southern leader of emancipation.⁶

The mass of the senators did not in original faculties or training or aspirations deserve to rank with statesmen. Some of them, born in the last century, had passed most of their life in office,—as Berrien, Bell,⁷ and Badger; but neither in speech nor act did they leave any impression on our history. Their training was generally that of lawyers practising in local courts; and their studies, if extended beyond what was necessary for the trial of cases in which they were retained, were limited to the history of American politics, or at most included a single reading of Hume and Gibbon. They knew well the art of looking after local interests, of flattering State pride, of serving blindly the party; and they were expert in ministering to the fears, the prejudices, the jealousy, and the self-interest of their section.⁸ If Southerners, they supported the demands of the slaveholding interest without question; if Northerners, they supported any compromise with slavery which was agreed upon as essential to party success. It has been the custom of statesmen in different periods to enrich and diversify public life with studies in science, the ancient classics, or modern literature; but not to force a comparison with any eminent names in English or French history, it is doing no injustice to the senators of the thirty-second Congress to say that there was nothing in their speeches to suggest that they followed as exemplars John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, Edward Livingston [262] and John Quincy Adams.⁹ Public men in Washington were then under less restraint than now in their habits. They could not forego tobacco even during the sessions, and whiskey and brandy were sold in the restaurants of the Capitol,— a practice which assisted vulgarity at all times, but particularly in exciting debates and in sessions prolonged into the late hours, and which will account for some of the indecent and unparliamentary language used in replies to antislavery speeches. To avoid overdrawing the picture, it should be said that here and there in the Senate were men of blameless lives and unfailing courtesy, such as Foot of Vermont and Mangum of North Carolina. In character, presence, and style of debate Chase and Seward were the peers of any who have ever held seats in that body. Four men had recently passed from it who would have given dignity and renown to any parliamentary assembly. Benton, the least distinguished of the four, after thirty years of service, had been thrown out by the intense pro-slavery party of Missouri, made up of Whigs and Democrats, as a punishment for his resistance to the Compromise policy.¹⁰ Calhoun had died a senator during the preceding Congress. Webster had passed from the body to Fillmore's Cabinet. Clay was still a senator, but was enfeebled by age and by disease, which had been aggravated by his severe labors in support of the Compromise of 1850. He was in the Senate for the last time on the day that Sumner took his seat; it was observed how sadly clanged he was from the last session as he came with tottering steps into the chamber. He spoke twice on a point of procedure,¹¹ and at the adjournment on that day left the Capitol to return no more to it. It was significant that the very day when the representative of Compromise passed forever from the Senate, it was entered by an equally determined champion of freedom, who would admit no concession wherever its sacred interests were at stake.

Such was the body which Sumner with his high idea of the dignity which became a senator now entered. Being a new [263] member, and having political associations obnoxious to nearly all the senators, he was assigned a place at the foot of two committees,—one on revolutionary claims, and the other on roads and canals.¹²

Sumner at once fell into pleasant relations with his associates. Cass, with the recollection of their intercourse in Paris in 1838, was as amiable and gracious as his position of a Northern man altogether subservient to Southern dictation permitted. The Southern senators, the most advanced and intense in their devotion to slavery (like mason of Virginia and Foote of Mississippi), did not avoid him, as the Boston Whigs had forewarned, either on account of his antislavery opinions or the manner of his election, but received him civilly, conversed freely with him on public business and general topics, and some of them (as Soule) were very cordial.¹³ He had from the beginning and always most agreeable personal relations with the diplomatic corps, particularly with the British embassy.¹⁴ His ability to speak French was in this respect an advantage which few members of Congress enjoyed. He already knew well Calderon, the Spanish Minister, and Madame Calderon, who was a lady of Scotch parentage, and had lived in Boston.¹⁵ Calderon, when leaving the country in August, 1853, wrote him a very cordial note, assuring him that his friendship had been greatly valued and would always be remembered. The welcome at Washington was very agreeable to Sumner, who thought much, and was accused sometimes of thinking too much, of social surroundings as important to happiness and usefulness. Some Abolitionists were suspicious of these attentions, fearing that they boded ill to his constancy. Not so another Abolitionist who knew him better, and who, though often judging others harshly, nearly always looked charitably on his early friend. He wrote, February 2, 1852:— [264]

Great accounts come floating here of your triumphant success in Washington, social and otherwise. In all that raises you, if such success can, none finds less surprise or more pleasure than

Yours most truly,

Wendell Phillips.

R. H. Dana, Jr., wrote, Dec. 11, 1851:—

Your kind reception at Washington is not attributable, sure enough, to the influence of our Boston oligarchy; but their power does not extend much beyond the pavements and Nahant. They are bigoted without being fanatical.

Sumner wrote to Longfellow, December 9:—

Shields is now speaking. Everybody has treated me with cordial kindness. Clay, I think, has upon him the inexorable hand. He has not been in his seat since the first day. Seward is a very remarkable man; Berrien, a very effective speaker. I have been pressed by work and care very much, and sigh for some of those sweet hours which we have had and I have lost.

Again, December 28:—

I feel heart-sick here. The Senate is a lone place, with few who are capable of yielding any true sympathy to me. I wish I were in some other sphere. Let no person take office or embark in politics unless for the sake of a sentiment which he feels an inexpressible impulse to sustain in this way.

These latter days have had some recreation. For instance, Tuesday, dinner with the French Minister; company pleasant; Cass very genial and friendly; Calderon always affectionate to me; our friend Ampere, who talked of you. Wednesday, dinner with the President; more than forty at table; dinner French, served à la Russe, heavy, beginning at 6 1/2 o'clock and ending at 9 1/2; miss Fillmore pleasant and attractive, particularly when she spoke of you. Thursday, dinner at F. P. Blair's, about seven miles out of town,—a family party, with a diplomat and a politician. Friday, dinner with Seward, whom I like much, and with whom I find great sympathy. Saturday, dinner with Robert Walsh, whose new wife has very little to say. Sunday, dinner with Lieutenant Wise, whose little establishment is very complete. He calls his wife “Charley.” I thought once or twice he spoke to me. Would that I were with you, and could share your calm thoughts! As for me, farewell content; farewell the tranquil mind!

Sumner met a welcome from the first in the houses of the New York senators, being received there without ceremony. He counted Mrs. Seward and Mrs. Fish among his best friends, and his relations with the former continued unbroken till her death. He also enjoyed the renewal of intercourse with a college mate, Charles Eames, then an editor of the Washington ‘Union,’ the Democratic organ, whose accomplished wife became his sympathetic and ever faithful friend; few American women of her time have had so choice a circle of admirers, among whom [265] Everett, Choate, Winthrop, and Bigelow may be named.¹⁶ He found also solace and good cheer in the congenial fellowship of men and women, distinguished for antislavery activities or sympathies, who gathered almost daily in the home of Dr. Bailey of the ‘National Era.’

Hardly a foreigner of distinction ever came to Washington while Sumner was in the Senate without seeking him. At this session Jacob Bright came, commended by Harriet Martineau; Arthur h. Clough, by John Kenyon; Dr. Charles Eddy, fellow of Oxford, by Macready; but it was not till the next session that he welcomed Thackeray. Among old English friends who visited Washington in 1852 were Lord and Lady Wharncliffe,¹⁷ accompanied by their daughter, since Lady Henry Scott. Lord Wharncliffe, after his return home in the spring of 1852, wrote Sumner long and friendly letters; and though highly conservative, was sympathetic with his friend's antislavery position. J. J. Ampere, then a visitor in Washington, continued there the acquaintance with the senator which had begun in Boston.

Sumner's first speech was made on the tenth day of the session, on the resolution of welcome to Kossuth. When the Hungarian patriot, after the subjugation of his country by the Austrians, aided by a Russian army, was in the friendly custody of Turkey, Congress by resolution, March 3, 1851, expressing the sympathy of the people, authorized the employment of a public vessel to convey him and his fellow exiles to the United States; and having been conveyed to England in one of our steam frigates, he proceeded, after a few weeks of sojourn in that country, to New York, where he arrived December 5. He was greeted with extraordinary demonstrations of admiration and good-will; and the enthusiasm which swept over the city not only pervaded the populace, but extended in a large degree to the educated classes, lawyers, clergymen, and editors.¹⁸

Coming as he did with a national invitation, there was a propriety, it was thought, in according to Kossuth a national reception. On the first day of the session, when he was still on the [266] ocean, Foote of Mississippi, at the instance of Webster the Secretary of State, offered in the Senate a resolution for the purpose; but as special objections were made to its form, it was withdrawn by the mover, and the debate proceeded on one offered by Seward, which in the name and behalf of the people of the United States gave him ‘a cordial welcome to the capital and to the country.’ This also was opposed on the ground that Kossuth had done nothing to deserve an extraordinary reception, and, further, that the proceeding was a departure from our traditional policy of non-intervention in European affairs. It was urged that he had openly declared his purpose to seek the intervention of this country in resisting the intervention of Russia in the contest between Austria and Hungary; and had in his speeches signified his purpose, if repelled by the government, to appeal from the government to the people. While the resolution was supported without respect to party or sectional divisions, its only earnest opponents were three Southern senators,—Underwood, Berrien and Badger. Among its zealous advocates were Cass and Shields from the West; but the most finished speeches in its behalf were those of Seward and Sumner, the former closing the debate with one of singular eloquence and power.

There was a prevailing curiosity to hear the new senator from Massachusetts; and when he rose late in the afternoon of December 9, all eyes were turned eagerly to him; but an adjournment being moved, he gave way. There was unusual attention and silence the next day as he took the floor. The Senate was full, both the gallery and the seats of members. The speech was a brief one, and carefully prepared.¹⁹ he began with a tribute to Kossuth and his cause, and advocated his reception by Congress, as merited by his career and naturally following the invitation under which he had come. But with his views of peace among the nations and his studies in international law, Sumner was not content to rest here; and while objecting to Berrien's amendment affirming non-interference with the domestic concerns of other nations to be the settled policy of our government as extraneous and irrelevant, he took occasion to express himself against any belligerent intervention in European affairs, or any departure from the policy of peaceful neutrality inherited from Washington. In the same passage he implied a criticism of Kossuth's contention that our policy of noninterference, [267] rightly applied to a new state of things, imposed the duty of resisting intervention when attempted by one European nation against the independence and freedom of another. Several senators—Cass, Foote, Dawson, and Shields—congratulated their new associate on his speech; and Mason shortly after, pulling his chair near to Sumner's, drew him into a talk on national politics. C. F. Adams, who was present, wrote in his diary that the speech was ‘admirably delivered and very impressive,’ and approved its position on intervention as ‘clear and just.’

The speech was well received by the public. The New York Tribune²⁰ was generous in its praise, treating it as the most successful first speech made in that body for a long time. A political opponent from Massachusetts, heretofore unsparing in criticisms, who was present, commended it for style and matter, and writing of the favor with which it was received, said that the senator had ‘achieved a triumph.’²¹ The resolution passed both Houses by a large majority.

Sumner's speech was, in its personal aspects, a good beginning. It showed to those who had little personal knowledge of him, that, however strenuous me might be in urging his views on slavery, he was something more than a popular agitator, and was competent to treat in a large way, and with calmness and prudence, the various public questions. It was observed that there was a moderation and gravity in his style which gave promise of good sense and fair dealing. His insistence on a traditional principle of the government, in the midst of popular demonstrations pushing strongly against it, proved him capable of a sobriety and forbearance which, to many who knew him only as a reformer, was a surprise. The speech was satisfactory to the mass of his political supporters in Massachusetts. They were pleased that he had acquitted himself so well in his new position; and they concurred in his generous praise of Kossuth, without having any definite opinion as to how far it was wise to yield to the appeal for aid, and being quite content to leave the decision of that question to their senator. From them came numerous congratulations. Those among them who were students of public questions, like Adams, [268] Dana, and Amasa Walker, fully approved his caution against any departure from the policy of non-intervention. He found himself supported in quarters where he had hitherto received little or no favor. His first effort was commended by conservative people, some of whom were personally well disposed to him, but most of whom had expected nothing from him but a radical and partisan course; and they were now surprised to find him beginning his public life in so sensible a way.²² The social and mercantile sentiment of Boston was then running strongly against the Hungarian,—as indeed it was in the habit of running against popular enthusiasms,—and for once, in his practical conclusion against intervention in foreign wars, he found himself in agreement with it. Epes Sargent, the editor of the ‘Transcript,’ wrote: ‘There seems to be but one sentiment here as to your speech on the Kossuth resolution. It is as much admired for its discretion as for the grace and energy of its diction, and the lofty eloquence of its sentiments.’ Rufus Choate wrote him a cordial note in his characteristic and inimitable style.²³ Hillard also wrote at once in a kindly way of the speech; and again, May 11, 1852: ‘Among the rank and file of the community—I mean the Whigs—there is a decided change of feeling towards you; and they look to your legislative future with a different feeling from that with which they followed you to your seat in December.’ R. H. Dana, Jr., wrote: ‘I am glad you had an opportunity to make your speech on a subject of so great general interest, on which you are so well informed, and one disconnected with party issues. I am glad you were so short, and kept so closely to the only point; it is beautifully expressed.’

The speech drew from a college friend of the class graduating after him—Asaph Churchill, a lawyer of high repute a note warmly commending its assertion of the policy of nonintervention, with a reminiscence of their association at the Law School, which deserves to be preserved:— [269]

I am reminded of a conversation we once had at the Law School. Several of us were debating as to the course of life we had best pursue,—what, profession or occupation or line of conduct would best enable us to achieve greatness, which we understood as being wealth, power, place, fame. You proclaimed your object to be that of doing the greatest amount of good to mankind. We —or at least I may say I—were astonished or incredulous; and the remark on that account impressed itself upon my memory. As I grow older, however, I can more easily give you credit for sincerity, because I can better appreciate, not only the merit of such a determination, but its soundness and wisdom; for in the chanceful journey of life, I know of no other policy more likely to lead to eminence,—certainly there is none which leads to an eminence so free from compunctious visitings. Allow me to say that in your career I have seen nothing to raise a doubt that you have acted upon that profession.

The speech, however, did not meet the unanimous approval of Sumner's friends. The popular enthusiasm for Kossuth seemed likely to affect national politics, and even to become an important element in the Presidential election. The Free Soilers were watching eagerly for any chance to make their diminished numbers potential in that contest, and they hoped that this was to come from the sympathy of the masses, particularly in the West, with the European struggle for liberty, now awakened by Kossuth's eloquence. Henry Wilson entered warmly into his mission. He was untaught in public law, and beyond the slavery question was wanting in fixed ideas; and the defects of his very limited education had not yet been supplied by the long practical training in affairs which was to follow. While calling the speech ‘glorious,’ and taking pride in having helped to give its author the opportunity to make it, he disapproved with much energy of expression its assertion of the doctrine of non-intervention, which in his view involved, when first proclaimed by our government, a breach of faith with France; he treated the law of nations as a ‘humbug,’ and avowed his readiness to follow an unheeded protest of our government against Russian intervention in Hungary with armed resistance. He further declared his purpose to join with any party in support of Cass, or any candidate for President, who was committed in favor of such action. Burlingame entered warmly into Wilson's views, and indeed many of the Free Soil leaders leaned more or less to them.²⁵ [270]

None of Sumner's political friends so much regretted his declaration of the doctrine of neutrality as the one with whom he had maintained the longest association. Dr. Howe was by natural sympathies a revolutionist. From his early exploits in Greece to his mission to St. Domingo late in life, he took a deep interest in the overthrow of governments, and had no respect for laws or traditions which stood in the way of his free lance. He was grieved that Sumner did not end his speech with the tribute to Kossuth, and leave unsaid his affirmation of our duty to keep aloof from foreign complications. He spurned the doctrine of neutrality as selfish and unworthy of the country; and he repudiated the law of nations when set up against a movement for liberty in any part of the world, denying that, if it existed at all, it had any popular basis or Christian origin. He repeated what he had often said to Sumner, that his peace principles, while right enough in the abstract, were not adapted to existing conditions, as there was yet much to be done for the human race which only ‘the instincts of combativeness and destructiveness’ could do. He closed his letter, full of tenderness and deep regret, with these words: ‘This is the speech of Lawyer Sumner, Senator Sumner,—not of generous, chivalrous, high-souled Charles Sumner, who went with me into the Broad Street riot, and who, if need had been, would have defended the women and children in the houses by pitching their ruffian assailants down the stairs.’²⁶ From the first Sumner showed in the Senate his independence of friendly pressure and popular currents, and his adherence to fixed principles.

Kossuth arrived in December in Washington, where he was received by Congress and entertained at a banquet given by citizens in his honor,—the notable event of which was Webster's memorable speech. Sumner, though regretting that Kossuth had been ill-advised in his expectations and imprudent in his appeals, particularly in his speeches made just after landing, sympathized deeply with him as the representative of the liberal cause in Europe, and called on him several times. From the capital the Hungarian patriot proceeded to the South and West, and thence to New England, receiving in his progress honors such as had been accorded to no foreigner except Lafayette; and in July, 1852, he returned to Europe. The spell of his marvellous eloquence has remained to this day; but it wrought [271] no change in our policy or opinions. His cause was a lost one, even before he left us; and his American supporters saw that no foreign aid could save it. By the time Sumner returned home, at the end of the session, the Hungarian question had ceased to be a prominent one in the public mind.

Kossuth's reception led to the introduction in the Senate of resolutions on the question of intervention. Several set speeches were made upon them,—among which were those of Cass, Seward, and Soule. Sumner thought at one time of engaging in the debate, but his attention to other matters of more practical interest prevented.²⁷ He wrote to John Bigelow, Dec. 13, 1851:—

Kossuth errs, all err, who ask any intervention by government. Individuals may do as they please,—stepping to the verge of the law of nations, —but the government cannot act. Depend upon it, you will run against a post if you push that idea. Enthusiast for freedom, I am for everything practical; but that is not practical.

To George Sumner, Jan. 5, 1852:—

Kossuth produces a great impression by personal presence and speech, but confesses that his mission has failed. It has failed under bad counsels, from his asking too much. . . . When the time cones that we can strike a blow for any good cause I shall be ready; but meanwhile our true policy is sympathy with the liberal movement everywhere, and this declared without mincing or reserve. . . . I have seen Kossuth several times. He said to me that the next movement would decide the fate of Europe and Hungary for one hundred years. I told him at once that he was mistaken; that Europe was not destined, except for a transient time, to be Cossack. . . . There is a wretched opposition to him here proceeding from slavery. In truth, slavery is the source of all our baseness, from gigantic national issues down to the vile manners and profuse expectorations of this place.

To E. L. Pierce, January 21:—

I have one moment for you, and only this. My speech was an honest utterance of my convictions on two important points. I pleaded at the same time for Kossuth and for what I know to be the true policy of our country. I told him in a long private interview the day before he left Washington, that if he had made at Castle Garden the speech he made at the Congressional banquet, he would have united the people of this country for him and his cause; but that he had disturbed the peace-loving and conservative by his demands. My desire was to welcome him warmly and sympathetically, but at the same time to hold fast to the pacific policy of our country.

To Henry Wilson, April 29:—

Seward has just come to my desk, and his first words were, 6 What a magnificent speech Wilson made to Kossuth! I have read nothing for months which took such hold of me.²⁸ I cannot resist telling you of this, and adding the expression of my sincere delight in what you said. It was eloquent, wise, and apt. I am glad of this grand reception. Massachusetts does honor to herself in thus honoring a representative of freedom. The country is for Kossuth; the city is against him. The line is clearly run.

The next subject which engaged Sumner's attention was a grant of lands to the State of lowa, in aid of the construction of railroads within its limits. Referring to the advantages resulting from new and improved means of communication, particularly to the lands still retained by the government, he maintained in his speech for the bill as his principal point the novel argument that the States in which the public lands lie have an equitable claim to peculiar consideration from the national government, arising from the fact that while they are so held, and for some time after a sale, they are exempt from State or municipal taxation.²⁹ Senators from the West and Southwest— Fetch of Michigan, Geyer of Missouri, and Downs of Louisiana —were grateful for co-operation from an unexpected quarter, and expressed in debate their appreciation of his timely assistance.³⁰ Two senators who led the opposition were not at all complimentary in their replies. Hunter of Virginia referred to the senator's ‘most delightful idyl,’ and Underwood of Kentucky intimated that he was seeking to gain favor with the West for ulterior personal ends,—an imputation which, however, was afterwards gracefully withdrawn. Sumner's friends at home—among them Dana, Wilson, Burlingame, and Banks —expressed in notes their pleasure at the manner in which he had acquitted himself,³¹ and particularly at his disposition to show favor to the West; but Adams, as well as John Bigelow, while gratified with his success, objected to his contention that the exemption of the public lands from taxation entitled the [273] States to such grants. Adams wisely suggested that it was a better policy to give the lands to actual settlers than to bestow them in large tracts on States and corporations. There was indeed little popular interest in the question, and what there was in Massachusetts arose chiefly from its relation to the new senator. Sumner's participation in the debate was largely due to his desire to accustom himself to his new forum, and to show that general affairs were within his purpose and grasp, before entering on the discussion of the slavery question.

It was curious to see how eagerly the Whig journals of Boston seized upon the speech as a means for weakening the senator's position. They withheld it from their readers, though publishing Underwood's reply; and they imputed to its author an extravagance of generosity to the new States at the expense of the old. The ‘Advertiser’³² teemed with a series of editorial criticisms exceeding in length the speech itself; and its contemporaries³³ in that city, with less elaboration, joined in the censure. The spirit of these critics was shown in the fact that they did not quarrel with the result to which he came,—the support of the bill,—but took all their pains simply to refute one of his reasons for supporting it.

Sumner, it is worth mention in this connection, had at this time no steady and consistent support among the journals of Boston. The Free Soil organ, the ‘Commonwealth,’ which was founded early in 1851, had a very uncertain and changeable management. At times Alley, Bird, Dr. Howe, and Joseph Lyman were pecuniarily interested in it, and for some months Samuel E. Sewall was the proprietor. Dr. Howe, Bird, Dr. Palfrey, Robert Carter,³⁴ and Richard Hildreth the historian were at times contributors or editors; but after a temporary management by one or more of these gentlemen, it usually fell back into the editorial control of Elizur Wright, who was erratic and headstrong, and addicted to so many novelties and hobbies of his own as to exclude any considerate treatment of public questions or effective support of the Free Soil public men.³⁵ [274] Meanwhile the Whig journals, which covered the State and most of New England with their daily issues, poured a volley of criticisms on Sumner whenever they could detect what they thought was a joint in his harness; declined to admit his speeches into their columns, although replying to them in still longer editorials; and were careful to exclude any mention of his share in debates which was likely to win for him popular approval. In contrast with his solitary and undefended position was the hearty, able, and unfailing support which Webster, Everett, Winthrop, and Choate always received from the journals of the city in which they lived. This discrimination against a political opponent no longer exists to the same extent, as metropolitan journals are conducted rather as commercial enterprises than as political organs, and are accustomed to give to the public as a part of the news of the day whatever is said or done by any prominent public man, no matter how hostile or offensive to them his position may be.

There were miscellaneous matters to which Sumner gave his attention at his first session; and in some of them his interest continued during his entire service in the Senate. He moved a resolution to abolish the spirit ration in the navy, and increase the pay of the enlisted men;³⁶ also a resolution for cheap ocean postage, the rate being then twenty-four cents for half an ounce, for which he gave his reasons briefly.³⁷ He was always greatly interested in this reform, and was in correspondence with Elihu Burritt concerning it; and he renewed the proposition at subsequent sessions. With a view to cheapen postage generally, he called for information in detail concerning the foreign and domestic service. Other resolutions offered by him related to vessels in stress of weather, the sailors' hospital money, [275] and the revision of the public statutes. This last resolution was as follows:—

That the Committee on the Judiciary be directed to consider the expediency of providing by law for the appointment of a commissioner to revise the public statutes of the United States; to simplify their language; to correct their incongruities; to supply their deficiencies; to arrange them in order; to reduce them to one connected text; and to report them thus improved to Congress for its final action,—to the end that the public statutes, which all are presumed to know, nay be in such form as to be more within the apprehension of all.

He renewed this proposition (reported as inexpedient) at almost every session,—as in 1853, 1854, 1856, 1860, 1861, 1862, and 1863,—till finally, when he moved it in 1866, it prevailed substantially in the form he had given to it. The work was executed by commissioners appointed by the President, and the Revised Statutes of the United States were enacted June 22, 1874, and published as the law of the land Feb. 22, 1875. This beneficial measure thus originated with Sumner at his first session; and his repeated efforts in its behalf which finally insured success exhibit his pertinacity as well as his wisdom.

Other topics to which he gave study and research at this session, in expectation of debates, were a mint to be established in New York; the restoration of the Congressional Library, which had been recently destroyed by fire; international copyright; and the reform of the system of public printing, which was at the time a political job. On these as well as on ocean postage he sought through his brother George information as to European methods.

The death of Robert Rantoul, Jr., a member of the House from Massachusetts, Aug. 7, 1852, was the occasion of a tribute from Sumner to his services and character, delivered two days after his death.³⁹ He had been elected to Congress by the combined votes of Democrats and Free Soilers, and the sudden and untimely close of his useful and brilliant career, with greater opportunities than ever at hand, spread grief and sadness among the people of Massachusetts. It was believed that if he had lived he would in the end, and probably as the result of the [276] next State election, have been placed by Sumner's side in the Senate. Sumner's tribute, though brief, was complete,—touching on all points of Rantoul's varied character as lawyer, publicist, reformer, and statesman, and also on the charm of his private life. A slight, almost covert, allusion to his efforts against slavery caused irritation among Southern senators, which was assigned by Mr. Davis, his colleague in the Senate, as a reason for his own silence on the occasion. The inscription on Rantoul's monument in the burial-ground at Beverly was from Sumner's hand.

During the session Sumner was occupied with efforts to procure the pardon of Drayton and Sayres, master and mate of the schooner Pearl, convicted in the District of Columbia for promoting the escape of seventy-six slaves whom they were carrying down the Potomac, when they were overtaken and brought back. Their heroic act greatly inflamed the slaveholding population; and their trial, in which they were defended by Horace Mann, excited general interest⁴⁰ They received a heavy sentence in fines, which they were unable to pay; and after a confinement of four years, a petition in their behalf, signed by leading Abolitionists, was forwarded to Sumner for presentation in the Senate. There was little faith that their release could be obtained, or a less sensational mode of appeal would have been resorted to. Sumner felt that the thing to be done was to get the unfortunate men out of prison; and hopeful that there was a chance for them, he went to work quietly in the only way which promised any success, instead of making a demonstration in the Senate which would have prolonged their misery. He regarded them not as tools to be handled for political effect, but as captives to be liberated, and felt it to be his duty to use the most appropriate means for a specific and practical end. He therefore took the responsibility, with the approval of the prisoners, whom he visited in the jail, and of their counsel, of withholding the petition,⁴¹ and appealed directly to President Fillmore for a pardon, [277] who also, while the examination of the paper was pending, advised against any popular appeal. Miss Dix seconded Sumner's efforts, and his unceasing intercession prevailed.⁴² The President was favorably impressed with the merits of the case, but doubted his power to release parties held for non-payment of fines which at least in part were payable to the owners of the slaves. At his suggestion, Sumner submitted a brief,⁴³ which the President referred to Mr. Crittenden, the Attorney-General, who, reserving any expression on the merits of the case, affirmed the President's power in the premises. The President acted promptly, and in fulfilment of a promise made to Sumner communicated to him a favorable decision in a note dated August 11, and signed by himself, stating that he had already executed a pardon. Further process to hold the men being apprehended, Sumner hurried to the jail, and taking them in a carriage, put them in charge of a friend, who conveyed them the same night to Baltimore, and a few hours later they were at the North and out of danger.⁴⁴ It was considered at the time that Sumner had achieved a remarkable success, particularly in view of the strong language he had used concerning the President's signature of the Fugitive Slave bill in his speech at Faneuil Hall in November, 1850. The Washington ‘Union,’ the Democratic organ, attributed the pardon to his efforts, saying it was an influence which should not have been heeded. The Whig press of Boston was, according to its custom, silent as to his share in procuring it. The editor of the ‘Liberator’ had berated him in his paper and in a public meeting for not presenting the petition in the Senate, accusing him of want of backbone and treachery to freedom, and would not accept an explanation of Sumner's reasons for avoiding publicity when made to him personally; even after the pardon had been granted, the editor made no retraction, and abstained from any expressions of praise. The political journals [278] hostile to Sumner were quick to copy criticisms from this quarter, but said nothing when the men were free.

Sumner wrote to Henry Wilson, April 29:—

I notice the attack on me in the “Liberator.” If need be, I shall show backbone in resisting the pressure even of friends. Had I uttered a word for Drayton and Sayres in the Senate, I should have dealt a blow at them which they well understood. At present nothing can be done for them in the Senate. I have presented their case to the President, and am sanguine in believing that they will be pardoned. But of this not a word at present.

Dr. Howe, rejoicing over the release of Drayton and Sayres, wrote:—

God bless you for your truly noble and courageous course! Follow it up to the end, however, without caring for blessing or cursing. Such things do my very heart good, and make me love you, if possible, more than ever.

Wendell Phillips wrote:—

I congratulate you most sincerely on the happy issue of your efforts for Drayton and Sayres. You have earned your honors.

Sumner wrote to John Bigelow, February 3:

I am won very much by Houston's conversation.⁴⁵ With him the antislavery interest would stand better than with any man who seems now among possibilities. He is really against slavery, and has no prejudice against Free Soilers. In other respects he is candid, liberal, and honorable. I have been astonished to find myself so much of his inclining.

To Theodore Parker, February 6:—

I have yours of 25th of January proposing to me to write an article on Judge Story in the Westminster Review. As a filial service I should be glad to do this; but how can I? I rarely go to bed before one or two o'clock, and then I leave work undone which ought to be done.

To John Bigelow, February 8:—

Pardon me if I say frankly you have done injustice to Story.⁴⁶ I admire him as a jurist, but with a discrimination between his titles to regard for his judgments and his books. The former I have always thought unique in variety, learning, point, usefulness, and amount. I love his memory, but I cannot sympathize with much of his politics. Even you will find much to praise in the accumulated expression of his Northern sentiments against doughfaces [279] and the aggressions of the slave-power. I have known many judges and jurists, but I have never known one so completely imbued with jurisprudence as Story.

Again, March 2:—

Congress and all the world have a vacation to-day to quaff fresh air, sunshine, and champagne on board the “Baltic.” ⁴⁷ I voted for the adjournment, but did not care to put myself in the great man-trap set especially for members of Congress. . . . I see nothing certain in the Presidential horizon. In all my meditations I revert with new regret to the attempted reconciliation in 1849 in your State. Without that we should now control the free States.

I read carefully and enjoyed much Mr. Bryant's address.⁴⁸ It was a truthful, simple, and delicate composition, and, much as I value sculpture and Greenough, I cannot but add will be a more durable monument to Cooper than any other. Webster's historical article was crude and trite enough.

George Sumner arrived home, April 19, 1852, after a continuous sojourn in Europe since 1838. His coming had been eagerly awaited by Charles, who had deplored his long lingering in Europe. The two brothers had not met for fifteen years. When they parted they were both little known to the world; but each in his own way was now distinguished. George, shortly after his arrival, came to Washington. A room at his brother's lodgings awaited him, and the latter's sitting-room was put at his service. The meeting was a glad one. He had slight sympathy with Charles's antislavery convictions, and while avoiding distinct political associations, was inclined to the Democratic party. He received in 1853 from Mr. Marcy, then Secretary of State, the offer of the post of assistant secretary, accompanied, however, with a condition—the disavowal of his brother's opinions—which compelled him to decline.⁴⁹ In the winter of 1852-1853 he appeared for the first time before lyceums, taking ‘The Progress of Reform in France’ as his topic. Charles wrote to John Bigelow, March 26, 1853:—

The post of assistant secretary of state was offered to my brother; but I write, not for any public correction of your paper, but merely for your private information. More than ten days ago Mr. Marcy communicated to me personally his desire to have my brother in the place, his sense of his fitness beyond that of any other person in the country, and also the extent to which [280] he was plagued by applications from persons who would make the office only a clerkship. My brother was absent from Washington at the time. At the request of Mr. Marcy I sent for him; and on his arrival, at Mr. Marcy's request, he reported himself at the state department, was most cordially welcomed, was assured that not only the secretary but the President desired him to be assistant secretary, that his knowledge of European affairs was needed, that it was the intention to raise the salary of the office and to make it a desirable position. At three different stages of a protracted interview the matter was thus pressed upon my brother. But in the course of the interview Mr. Marcy expressed a desire for some confession on the subject of slavery by which my brother should be distinguished from me,—some acceptance of the Baltimore platform,—all of which he peremptorily declined to do, in a manner that made Mr. Marcy say to me afterwards that me had “behaved in an honorable manner.” After my brother had fully declared his determination, and his abnegation of all desire for office, of which I do not speak in detail, the secretary still expressed a desire for his services. Subsequently my brother addressed him a brief note absolutely declining, and in another note recommended the appointment of Dudley Mann. This affair has got into the newspapers, but by no suggestion of mine or of my brother.

To George Sumner, April 23:—

You are right in regarding both the old parties as substantially alike. I do not think that one who looks at principles and seeks to serve his fellowman can have much satisfaction in becoming the hack of one of these combinations; nor would I recommend you to enlist in any public efforts unless for the sake of a cause which you have at heart, or under an impulse too strong to resist. The consciousness of duty done must be your support under the load of misrepresentation and falsehood which are the lot of all in conspicuous stations. I have been tempted to say this by your note. I could not say less; I have not time now to say more.

Again, April 26:—

If you are conscious that you can speak an effective word for Kossuth's Hungarian career, I should regret not to have it done, though I commend you to the prudence of careful preparation. Boston society, to which you allude, is of course the other way; but your point of view will enable you to look with indifference upon its criticisms. Remember this: while I counsel all caution and a proper reserve, particularly at the beginning, I would not have you sail by the meridian of Boston. Your own soul would rebuke you if you did.

To John Bigelow, June 9:—

I longed to see you. When you called I was at Eames's, discoursing on Baltimore and its scenes. This nomination⁵⁰ makes me lament anew the fatal 1849, when the Barnburners and the Hunkers coalesced. Had they kept apart, we should all have been together,—perhaps in a minority, but powerful from [281] our principles and character. For myself, I am left alone. The political fellowships I had hoped to establish are vanishing. Of course I can have nothing to do with Pierce or his platform,—probably nothing with Scott or his. How I wish we had all stuck together! Should Pierce be elected, with a Democratic Senate and house, we should have the iron rule of the slave-power.

To C. F. Adams, June 21:—

We hear that Scott is nominated at last. I tell you confidentially how Seward regards it. He thinks that his friends have been defeated, that Scott is made to carry weight which will probably defeat him, and that the campaign can have little interest for the friends of our cause. He will take an opportunity, by letter or speech, to extricate himself from the platform. Seward's policy is to stick to the Whig party, no action of theirs can shake him off. But the cause of freedom he has constantly at heart; I am satisfied of his sincere devotion to it. Major Donaldson says that there is now no difference between the Whigs and Democrats; their platforms, he says, are identical. This is the darkest day of our cause. But truth will prevail. Are there any special words of your grandfather against slavery anywhere on record, in tract or correspondence? If there are, let me have them. I wish you were here.

In this session of Congress there was naturally a lull on the slavery question. The slaveholding interest had gained in the preceding Congress all it could expect to gain for the present; and the supporters of the Compromise were averse to further agitation of the subject. Foote of Mississippi, however, who was to leave the Senate at the end of the first month to become governor of his State, and was unwilling to forego another opportunity for defending slavery, introduced a resolution on the first day of the session declaring the Compromise measures a definitive settlement of the questions concerning slavery. The debate, which he opened, proceeded at intervals, but was confined almost wholly to the Southern senators, those who like Foote supported the Compromise as the best thing for the South, and those like the senators from South Carolina who opposed it from the standpoint of disunionists; and it was conducted with acrimony and personal recrimination between the two Southern divisions. The Northern senators, whether supporting or opposing the Compromise, kept aloof from the discussion, except Davis⁵¹ of Massachusetts; [282] and the resolution was laid aside without a vote late in February. From that time the slavery question was not involved in any measure pending in the Senate; and any senator attempting to treat it broadly and at length would have been stopped as out of order. He could proceed by unanimous consent, but such consent was most likely to be refused as a courtesy to an antislavery senator; and to gain the opportunity by right would require no common vigilance and expertness.

It was Sumner's purpose when he went to Washington to speak at length on the slavery question, or some branch of it, before the close of the session, which was to last till far into August; but with a view to the best results, as well as from reasons of prudence, he intended to defer his speech till the beginning of July. The Compromise and pro-slavery press of the country, taking its key-note from assiduous misrepresentations of the Whig journals of Boston, had spread a general impression of his unfitness for public life, which it was very desirable to remove or modify. To use his own words, he had, as he wrote to Dr. Howe, been ‘held up as a man incapable of public business, of one idea, and a fanatic, though of acknowledged powers in a certain direction;’ and the correction of that erroneous impression he considered the first condition of usefulness. The obvious way to remove it was by taking an interest in the general business of the Senate, and by showing himself the peer of other senators in dealing with a variety of public questions. This might take a few months; but in the long session there was ample time at his command. Any new legislation in the interest of slavery would have interrupted his silence, but none such was proposed; and, as already suggested, the debate on Foote's resolution not only ended at an early day, but while it lasted was attended with such personal and factional incidents as to repel senators from the free States who were averse to a discussion which had no serious purpose. Sumner wrote to Dana, Dec. 8, 1851: ‘The Southerners are in high quarrel,— Foote and Butler at red-hot words. The scene was threatening. While they talk there is no opportunity for us; nor can I yet see my way to intervene in this debate. I do not feel that it is the occasion for me to utter the mature and determined word which, God willing, I will.’ It was desirable, also, that in his first demonstration on the question, which was sure to attract universal attention, he should do his best, and therefore a full [283] preparation on all points was essential. His habits of thought, always methodical, were such that he could not discuss a subject without exhausting it, and putting his argument in a welldeveloped and permanent shape; and his chosen theme—the constitutional, legal, and moral aspects of the Fugitive Slave Act—required laborious research, and a most careful and critical treatment. He would be assailed at all points, and must be ready at all points. The Senate, though wanting in men of generous erudition, numbered acute lawyers, who were sharpest of all on points involving the rights of slaveholders.

Circumstances at home, presently to be referred to, made it desirable for Sumner to indicate publicly his purpose to speak on the slavery question at some time during the session. He presented, May 26, a memorial from the Society of Friends in New England, asking for the repeal of the Fugitive Slave Act, and while explaining its purport was interrupted by the president, who was not accustomed to check senators making such explanations on other subjects; but by general consent he was allowed to proceed. He contented himself with saying that he had been disinclined to interfere with the discussion of Foote's Compromise resolutions, which had been with a single exception carried on between the senators from the slave States; but he announced his purpose at some fitting time to set forth fully his views in support of the proposition that, ‘according to the true spirit of the Constitution, and according to the sentiments of the fathers, freedom, and not slavery, is national; while slavery, and not freedom, is sectional.’⁵² His preparation, which he had expected to complete late in June (the time he had fixed for speaking when the session began), was interrupted by an illness, not serious enough to prevent his attendance on the sessions, but disabling him from work, and enjoining abstinence from special effort and excitement. By the middle of July, seven weeks before the session was to end, he was ready and anxious for an opportunity, and shortly after sought it by a formal appeal to the Senate.

In selecting his own time to speak Sumner was to expose himself to harsh criticism, and even distrust; and he had occasion [284] to lament that his position had taken from him the freedom which he had enjoyed in private life. His constituency— meaning by that term in this connection the antislavery people in Massachusetts and elsewhere, who had been profoundly interested in his election, and had marked it as an epoch— comprised in large proportion persons of strong individuality, exacting by temperament, calling no man master, distrustful of any line of conduct or act which suggested by any construction hesitancy or weakness. They believed in agitation, perpetual agitation, as the only way to contend against slavery; but right as they were in this, they took little account of the considerations which in public office limit it to seasonableness of time and occasion. So often deceived by fair professions, they had lost confidence in public men,—all the more so since Webster's defection. They had put faith in Sumner as of all men best fitted by his personal force, his burning rhetoric, and his forensic power, to agitate in the Senate, directly in front of the organized slaveholding interest, and with the country for his audience. They believed that whatever gifts Chase and Hale might have, Sumner stood before all others in the power to denounce slavery, its wrongs and its progress; and from the first day he took his seat they were intent on the exhibition of that power. Their horizon might be narrow; they could not in their intensity of conviction give weight to the considerations which govern statesmen; but they were profoundly sincere in their aims and methods, and they grew more and more impatient with their senator's delay from month to month, while he, conscious of the rectitude of his intentions, and never for a moment faltering in heart or purpose, could not comprehend their disappointment and suspicions.

There was some expectation that Sumner would speak on Foote's resolution, but his failure to do so did not draw out any particular comment. The Free Soilers would, if let alone, have been content to allow him his own way for a long time, but they were first made uneasy by taunts from two opposite quarters,— the Compromise Whigs on the one side, and the non-voting Abolitionists on the other; the former bitterly opposed to him, and the latter standing aloof from the movement which put him in the Senate, but now as always ‘nothing if not critical,’ and assuming the direction of his public conduct. The first allusion to his silence was made late in February in the Massachusetts [285] Senate, by Warren,⁵³ a very conservative Whig, in a public speech, to which Wilson, the president, leaving the chair, replied that the senator would speak at the proper time.⁵⁴ The taunt was repeated in the Whig journal⁵⁵ at intervals, and by Mr. Winthrop in an appendix to a volume of his speeches.⁵⁶ The Free Soilers were particularly annoyed by the reproaches of the non-voting Abolitionists. Mr. Garrison, at a meeting of the Norfolk County Antislavery Society, held at Dedham, April 22, introduced a resolution condemning the senator's silence for four months on the slavery question, and his omission for two months to present the petition for the relief of Drayton and Sayres.⁵⁷ The resolution was opposed by William I. Bowditch⁵⁸ and Wendell Phillips. The latter in a letter to Sumner, April 27, said:—

I have never, my dear friend, ceased one moment to trust you. Passing over the whole State this winter, lecturing sometimes four nights in the week, I have been asked scores of tines by Free Soilers as well as our folks, “Do you put entire trust in C. S.?” Theodore Parker tells me he has met the same questioning many times. My answer has always been the expression, the frank, cordial expression, of most entire confidence in you. I have then dwelt on the expediency of getting acquainted with your audience before speaking; obtaining a point d'appui by showing a knowledge of, and interest in, other questions, etc.,—adding that I knew you were acting in concert with, and by advice of, all the prominent friends of antislavery in Washington. This I learned from your letters, but did not say so, as they were marked “confidential,” and I did not wish to compromise you. Last week there was a [286] resolution offered at the Dedham meeting declaring your course inexplicable. I opposed it; went over your whole reform life. A man of more rightful expectations than any of his age in New England spoke .hat peace address July 4. Perhaps he did not know then all he was sacrificing; the proof of his true devotion was, that, finding the sacrifice possibly greater than he anticipated, he stood by his position,—never retreated an inch; on the contrary, advanced to the prison discipline struggle, and to a more prominent and radical position on antislavery, etc. Such a man has earned the right to be trusted, even while we do not understand his whole ground or all his reasons. Some men—the more radical among his party, I think—expect more from him than he has ever promised; but I believe Charles Sumner will fulfil every promise he has ever made, every expectation he has ever given any one ground for entertaining. I think his course at washington impolitic and wrong;⁵⁹ but that matters not. He has used, I doubt not, his best discretion, and the best advice at hand. He has his way of doing things; he did not suit us wholly while here; it's no surprise to me that his course should not wholly suit us now. I shall trust him at least till the end of the session, and listen then to his explanations. . . . If you shall always have ten such friends as I have been, your political life will be a happy one, and your fame (were it Sodom) as a fulfiller of all your pledges will be saved.

Those of Sumner's constituents who knew him best, and had learned the policy upon which he was acting, were satisfied with the integrity of his purpose, and if questioning the wisdom of his delay were content to leave the decision with him; but their intimate knowledge of his character and their private information could not reach the mass of earnest men in his party.

John A. Andrew, writing June 2 in reference to Mr. Winthrop's taunt, said:—

When by the circumstances a speech is an act for liberty, then I trust that you will make it. But when by speaking you feel that you would only drown your own testimony by the sound of your own voice, then it is not such as I am who desire you to break your silence.

Joshua Leavitt wrote from New York, June 11:—

I like your course, and especially that it is yours, and not any other man's. I told you at the outset to take time, act deliberately, so as to have nothing to take back, and not be in a hurry, and let croakers croak.

Sumner's college chum, John W. Browne, identified with the radical section of the antislavery movement, who was still following his classmate's course ‘with a friend's eye and heart,’ wrote June 18:—

Don't let the unjust and ill-considered words said here about your tardiness to speak on this subject press you to speak one moment earlier than your nature and instincts are ready to the utmost to do their own spontaneous work, and upon their own occasion. Take your time, by the force of your own nature, in your own methods; you will have all your strength in effort, and not otherwise. Don't let hasty requirements of those who are eager for your speech move you to utterance one moment prematurely, as your season takes its own procession. Don't speak upon the pressure of any opinion. William Bowditch authorizes me to say that this is his view of the matter also.

R. h. Dana, Jr., as late as August 9, wrote:—

We have perfect faith in your course. We believe that if you had been permitted to speak,⁶¹ a better day for the speech could not have been selected than the time you took. If you had spoken, all would have said so. It was just at the right interval between the settlement of the policy of the old parties and the opening of our own. A speech before the conventions of the old parties would have been reckoning without your host. There are some men who think that nothing is doing unless there is a gun firing or a bell ringing. There are superficial persons in whom is no depth of root; they are easily offended. The work we have to do is a long one; there is no pending question. Patience and judgment and preparation are as—necessary as zeal, and more rare.

N. P. Banks, Jr., who was on the floor of the Senate, August 9, when Sumner delivered his eulogy on Rantoul, said to him personally:—

If the people of Massachusetts who now distrust you could have heard your voice in the Senate, and witnessed the attention you received, they would leave everything to you, knowing that your course would be for the best.

There were, however, many among the antislavery masses with less patience and philosophy, and less knowledge of him and his line of action, than the wiser ones whose opinions have been cited; and after seven months waiting, with the added annoyance of the taunts of Whig politicians, their mutterings of dissatisfaction became so distinct that leading Free Soilers felt the necessity of frankly reporting them to him. [288]

Wilson wrote to him, June 29:—

You must not let the session close without speaking. Should you do so, you would be openly denounced by nine tenths of our people. They say they are daily tormented about your silence by the Whigs all over the State, and many of them think you will not speak at all.

John Jay wrote to him, July 5, a letter from New York, which reviewed at length the situation from a personal as well as public point of view, and enforced the vital importance of not allowing the session to close without a full discussion on his part of the slavery question. Jay was a student of public opinion, with ample time at his command; and among all Sumner's friends no one at this time seems to have entered more sympathetically into his character and career. On Jay's mind there was no shadow of distrust; but he revealed frankly the distrust which was making its way among antislavery men, and reported the talk of Compromise politicians, who were hoping to find in Sumner a man as time-serving as they had been. Jay thought his failure to speak during the session would lose him his prestige with the antislavery people, and involve consequences momentous to him. Referring to the distrust of public men growing out of Webster's course, he wrote:—

I know too well the strength and depth of your antislavery principles, and have been too recently assured of your anxiety to utter your full views touching the Fugitive law to the Senate and the country, to attribute your delay in doing so to any other reason than your belief that an expedient occasion has not yet arrived. Others, however, who confound you with common politicians, . . . attribute your silence to the Southern atmosphere of the Capitol. and profess to believe either that your opinions have become essentially modified, or that you are fearful of encountering the intellectual power of the defenders of Compromise, and incurring the odium and contempt with which the chivalry look down upon an abolitionist. I need not tell you, my dear Sumner, how warmly and indignantly I have repelled, and will continue to repel, all such insinuations against your honor and your integrity, and how confidently I have told your defamers to wait a little while for the promised speech that would silence their croakings, and awaken the country anew with strains of eloquence like those uttered by you in Faneuil Hall. . . . Mr. Webster's awful treachery and shameless apostasy have so weakened the confidence of the people in the power of individuals to hold fast to unpopular truths that the meanness of such lesser traitors as Stanton and John Van Buren has excited no surprise.

Sumner replied to Mr. Jay, July 8:—

I thank you for your watchful friendship. Had I imagined the impatience of friends, I would have anticipated their most sanguine desires. But, with the absolute mens conscia recti, knowing the completeness of my devotion to the cause, I have let time proceed in the full conviction that at last I shall he understood. I fear nothing. I am under no influences which can interfere with this great duty. From the time I first came here I determined to speak on slavery some time at the end of June or in July, and not before, unless pressed by some practical question. No such question has occurred, and I have been left to my original purposes. My time has now come. I wish I could speak this week; but I cannot. For some time I have not been well; I have lost strength, and owing to this circumstance I have not made the preparation necessary. I am now at work, and to this devote myself whenever out of the Senate. Amidst these heats I am doing as well as I can. Your appeal and the interest expressed by others in my speech fill me with a painful conviction of my utter inability to do what is expected. But I shall try to do my duty. As to the responsibilities of standing alone, and as to any answers to me, to all these I am absolutely indifferent,—of this be assured. But when I speak, I wish to speak completely.

As no bill or resolution upon which his speech would be in order was pending, Sumner was obliged to create his opportunity. He offered, July 27, a resolution instructing the committee on the judiciary to report a bill repealing the Fugitive Slave Act, and the next day during the morning hour moved to take it up. He gave briefly his reasons for not having made the attempt earlier,—his reluctance to speak while yet a newcomer and inexperienced in the scene, and lately ill health. His request, under the rule of courtesy prevailing in the Senate, would have been heeded on any other subject,⁶² and he had been assured by the leaders of the Senate, from the South as well as the North, of a general desire to hear his views on the subject. It is quite likely that they had no personal objections to hearing him, and might have granted him the opportunity but for the pending Presidential canvass, in which both parties had agreed upon the suppression of agitation against slavery. The motion being objected to on the ground of ‘want of time,’ ‘the lateness of the session,’ and ‘danger to the Union,’ was lost by a vote of ten yeas to thirty-two nays. The affirmative votes were those of Clarke of Rhode Island, Davis, Dodge, [290] Foot, Hamlin, Seward, Shields,⁶³ Sumner, Upham, and Wade. The negative votes were given by the supporters of slavery or Compromise, among them being the Northern names of Fish, Truman Smith, and Norris. The purpose to cut him off from an opportunity to speak during the session was now openly avowed,—Mason of Virginia saying to him personally that he should not speak;⁶⁴ and it seemed in a fair way to prevail. Sumner had expected to succeed in his attempt to speak, and was disappointed. He had counted too much on the courteous treatment he had thus far received and his social relations with senators. Mr. Adams, more distrustful by nature, wrote, August 1:—

The result at which you arrived is not in the least surprising to me. You are in your nature more trusting than I, and therefore expected more. Where slavery is concerned I have not a particle of confidence in the courtesy, honor, principles, or veracity of those who sustain it, either directly by reason of selfish interest, or more remotely through the servility learned by political associations. In all other cases I should yield them a share of confidence. I should not, therefore, had I been in your place, have predicated any action of mine upon the grant by them of any favor whatever. They cannot afford to be generous or even just. If you can get even that to which you have a clear right, you will do pretty well; but to get it you will have to fight for it.

There remained now but one mode of obtaining a hearing,— the moving of an amendment to one of the appropriation bills, which are left to the closing days of the session;⁶⁵ and of this [291] last resort Sumner determined to avail himself by moving an amendment repealing the Fugitive Slave Act. He communicated his purpose to those who had his confidence, but as far as possible kept it from the public. Fearing that if it were known, the appropriation bill would be held back till the last day of the session, he kept his determination secret, removed his books and papers from his desk, and appeared to be busy with the regular business of the session. He was liable to be stopped by his proposition being ruled out of order as not germane; or if not arrested by this objection, the proper clause of the bill might be reached in debate at so late an hour in the session that his speech would prevent final action upon the bill, and necessitate an extra session, thus exposing him to the serious charge of obstructing the public business; but he was not to be deterred by this consideration, and he intended to insist at all hazards on his right to be heard.

Meanwhile the Compromise journals in Massachusetts were charging that his attempt in July was only a feint, and that he expected and desired the refusal which was made;⁶⁶ on the other hand, his friends were alarmed lest he should lose the chance of being heard. Two long letters, dated August 3 and 4, came from Henry Wilson and Theodore Parker, who had noted his failure to get the floor,—telling him how disastrous to the cause and to himself would be his failure to speak; and while expressing their own absolute confidence in his fidelity, they plainly described the prevailing distrust and alarm among the antislavery people.

Sumner wrote to Howe, August 11, concerning Theodore Parker's urgency about his speaking:—

Parker is too impatient. If by chance or ignorance of the currents here I have got into the rapids, my friends should not abandon me. In any event, my course is a difficult one. A Hunker politician told me that he thought I assumed a greater responsibility than any other person here. I know this; but I know also my singleness of purpose, and I know that I am in earnest. The ‘Atlas’ is false when it says I could have made the speech,—utterly false.⁶⁷

To E. L. Pierce, August 6:—

I value your friendship, and am glad of your frankness. From other sources I learn the prevailing distrust with regard to me. Thus far, in the [292] consciousness of absolute rectitude and with a soul that never fears, I have been indifferent to such reports; but they come upon me now to a degres that gives me pain. Believe me, I know my rights and duties here, and shall vindicate the one and perform the other. Thus fir in Massachusetts I have not spoken often, but my words have been timely and effective. I trust not to lose this character here. All the Democratic leaders and most of the Whigs desired a hearing for me. Cass, Atchison, Soule, Bright, Norris, and many others told me so before I tried. my remarks were conceived so as to give them an opportunity of granting me the privilege. But after the call of ayes and noes, and the springing of the rattle from those new Union members, they did not dare to vote for me. It is difficult for people at a distance to understand the scene. Many in ignorance think I did not take the right course, or that I did not maintain my position in the proper way. Here on the spot, familiar with the requirements of the occasion, I am now satisfied that under the circumstances I acted for the best. Had I introduced a bill, I could not have spoken except by unanimous consent. Any single person could have stopped me. My first purpose was to try this; but I finally preferred to throw myself upon the majority, and to compel them to the ignoble position before the country of suppressing debate. This has been done, and they are exposed.

I could not have made my speech on the motion to take up, though Mr. Keyes⁶⁸ says otherwise. Mr. Mason says I shall not speak this session,— that he will prevent me. I have told him that I will speak, and he cannot prevent me My purpose is to move an amendment to the civil appropriation, when it gets to the Senate, that no sum shall be applied to the execution of the Fugitive Slave bill, which is hereby repealed, and on this amendment to take the floor as a right. Of course there will be an outcry; it will be called factiousness, and the bill itself may be endangered; but I shall proceed. Do not let this be known publicly. There are several subjects which I had intended to discuss here, but which time will not allow at this session. But no effort shall be spared to obtain a hearing on slavery. Have faith!

The session was to end August 31. The civil and diplomatic appropriation bill, of which Hunter of Virginia had charge, was on his motion taken up on the 19th. It was not, however, till Thursday, the 26th, that any provision came up to which Sumner's amendment could be attached; and though only five days of the session remained, the several appropriation bills had not been acted upon. Sumner was watching meanwhile for his chance, when, on the 26th, Hunter, on behalf of the committee reporting the bill, moved an amendment for paying ‘the extraordinary expense’ incurred by ministerial officers in executing the laws. This was intended, though no particular law was mentioned, at least in part if not wholly, to cover [293] expenses incurred in executing the Fugitive Slave law;⁶⁹ and Sumner, to be in readiness for a point of order, had, besides preparing himself on the precedents, traced the provision to its source by consulting the auditor, Mr. Whittlesey, and ascertained from him definitely its purpose. To Hunter's amendment, immediately upon its being offered, Sumner moved the amendment, ‘provided, that no such allowance shall be authorized for any expenses incurred in executing the Act of September 18, 1850, for the surrender of fugitives from service or labor, which said Act is hereby repealed.’ No point of order was raised, and without a moment's delay he took the floor and proceeded with his speech.⁷⁰ It was the first opportunity since the Compromise resolution was laid aside in February that he could insist upon being heard as a right. He began with recalling the denial of a hearing in July, when he had requested, without avail, the usual courtesy, saying,—

And now at last, among these final crowded days of our duties here, but at this earliest opportunity, I am to be heard,—not as a favor, but as a right. The graceful usages of this body may be abandoned, but the established privileges of debate cannot be abridged; parliamentary courtesy may be forgotten, but parliamentary law must prevail. The subject is broadly before the Senate; by the blessing of God it shall be discussed.

Then, after a brief reference to his position in the Senate as one of a small minority, holding for the first time a public office which had come to him unsought, and without pledges of any kind, he made a vigorous protest against the assumption common at that period, and then recently announced by the two great political parties, that the Compromise of 1850 had settled the question of slavery finally,—asserting that this was an attempt to give to a set of legislative acts a sanction higher even than any belonging to the Constitution, and affirming that ‘nothing from man's hands, nor law, nor constitution, can be final,’ and that ‘truth alone is final.’ ‘For myself,’ he said, ‘in no factious spirit, but solemnly and in loyalty to the Constitution, as a senator of the United States representing a free Commonwealth, I protest against this wrong. On slavery, as on every other subject, I claim the right to be heard. That right [294] I cannot, I will not, abandon’ Of the attempt to suppress discussion he said:—

Sir, this effort is impotent as tyrannical. Convictions of the heart cannot be repressed; utterances of conscience must be heard: they break forth with irrepressible might. As well attempt to check the tides of ocean, the currents of the Mississippi, or the rushing waters of Niagara. The discussion of slavery will proceed wherever two or three are gathered together,—by the fireside, on the highway, at the public meeting, in the church. The movement against slavery is from the Everlasting Arm. Even now it is gathering its forces, soon to be confessed everywhere. It may not be felt yet in the high places of office and power; but all who can put their ears humbly to the ground will hear and comprehend its incessant and advancing tread.

So much had been said by slaveholders and Northern compromisers with the object of setting public opinion against antislavery men, to the effect that they were sectional in spirit and policy and without any comprehensive patriotism, that he emphasized at the outset the ‘sectional’ character of slavery and the ‘national’ character of freedom,—qualities stamped on the early history of the nation, and determining the principles of construction to be applied to all constitutional questions which pertained to slavery. After this introduction, lasting fifteen or twenty minutes, he entered on his main argument. For the next hour he discussed the true relations of the national government to slavery, showing, by authorities and reason, that the institution was in its nature against common right and the universal sense of justice, existed only under positive and clearly expressed provisions of law, and was local and limited in its sphere; that the framers of the Constitution, including Washington, were outspoken against it, and were in sentiment and aim ‘abolitionists;’ and that in harmony with their declared views was the public opinion of that day, as appearing in literature, in the church, in the early legislation of Congress, and in the memorials of Abolition societies. As the District of Columbia had not been acquired by the government when it was organized in 1789, and the territories were then all under the Ordinance of 1787, he declared: ‘At this moment, when Washington took his first oath to support the Constitution of the United States, the national ensign, nowhere within the national territory, covered a single slave. Then, indeed, was slavery sectional and freedom national.’ As conclusions from these premises, he insisted that slavery could [295] not exist in the territories or on the high seas, under the national flag, or in the District of Columbia, or be allowed in new States to be admitted; and that ‘nowhere under the Constitution can the nation, by legislation or otherwise, support slavery, hunt slaves, or hold property in man.’ Referring to the recent political conventions, he said:—

And now an arrogant and unrelenting ostracism is applied, not only to all who express themselves against slavery, but to every man unwilling to be its menial. A novel test for office is introduced which would have excluded all the fathers of the republic,—even Washington, Jefferson, and Franklin! Yes, sir; startling it may be, but indisputable. Could these revered demigods of history once again descend upon earth and mingle in our affairs, not one of them could receive a nomination from the national convention of either of the two old political parties! Out of the convictions of their hearts and the utterances of their lips against slavery they would be condemned.

The remaining and principal part of his speech, consuming two hours and a half, was an arraignment of the Fugitive Slave law, which he called a bill, and never a law, thereby intending to stamp it as a nullity. He showed that the provision concerning fugitives from service was not, as claimed by its partisans, one of the original compromises of the Constitution; and that it was not deemed at the time of special importance, being introduced late in the session of the convention, and passed without debate. He noted that the same indifference attended the passage of the Fugitive Act of 1793, which drew little attention at the time; and next he passed to the Act of 1850, of which he thus spoke:—

At last, in 1850, we have another Act, passed by both Houses of Congress, and approved by the President, familiarly known as the Fugitive Slave bill. As I read this statute I am filled with painful emotions. The masterly subtlety with which it is drawn might challenge admiration if exerted for a benevolent purpose; but in an age of sensibility and refinement, a machine of torture, however skilful and apt, cannot be regarded without horror. Sir, in the name of the Constitution which it violates, of my country which it dishonors, of humanity which it degrades, of Christianity which it offends, I arraign this enactment, and now hold it up to the judgment of the Senate and the world. Again, I shrink from no responsibility. I may seem to stand alone; but all the patriots and martyrs of history, all the fathers of the republic, are with me. Sir, there is no attribute of God which does not take part against this Act.

Encountering the objection that the Supreme Court had declared in the Prigg case the power of Congress to legislate for [296] the reclamation of fugitive slaves, and conceding that the decision might be entitled to weight as a rule for the judiciary, he affirmed that as a legislator performing an independent duty he adopted the rule of President Jackson's memorable veto, avowing his right and duty to interpret the Constitution as he understood it, and not as it was understood by others. He maintained that as Congress had no powers which the Constitution had not delegated, it had none to legislate on the subject of fugitive slaves,⁷¹ since the only provision referring to it conferred none, and affirmed only an obligation of the States, without adding a power such as was given in like cases where a grant of power was intended. But even conceding that Congress had the power, he maintained further that the Act of 1850 conflicted not only with fundamental principles of liberty and justice, as he had already stated briefly, but it was unconstitutional in denying the right of trial by jury in a suit at common law, which the Constitution expressly secured. He then ran a parallel between the Stamp Act and the Fugitive Slave Act, showing that our fathers in their treatment of the former were an example to guide in treating the latter. He said: ‘Within less than a year from its original passage, denounced and discredited, it was driven from the statute book. In the charnel-house of history, with unclean things of the past, it now rots. Thither the Slave Act must follow.’ He produced an original letter of Washington, never published before, and lent to him by Rev. Charles Lowell, showing how the Father of his Country refused to have one of his slaves recovered if it ‘would excite a mob or riot, or even uneasy sensations in the minds of well-disposed citizens;’ and then, in contrast with this injunction, he described how the execution of the Fugitive Slave Act, wherever attempted, involved mobs, cruelty in capture and detention, and assaults fatal to the pursuer or the pursued. He spoke of the dehumanizing effects of the law on the agents of the claimants, on commissioners and marshals engaged in its execution; referred in [297] passing to Mrs. Stowe's ‘Uncle Tom's Cabin,’ recently issued, noting that its marvellous reception expressed the true public sentiment outside of the mercantile interest; and then paid a tribute to fugitive slaves, whose cause, spite of legal commands and penalties, appealed irresistibly to the primary instincts of human nature.

‘For them,’ said he,

every sentiment of humanity is aroused. Rude and ignorant they may be, but in their very efforts for freedom they claim kindred with all that is noble in the past. Romance has no stories of more thrilling interest; classical antiquity has preserved no examples of adventure and trial more worthy of renown. They are among the heroes of our age. Among them are those whose names will be treasured in the annals of their race. By eloquent voice they have done much to make their wrongs known, and to secure the respect of the world. History will soon lend her avenging pen. Proscribed by you during life, they will proscribe you through all time. Sir, already judgment is beginning; a righteous public sentiment palsies your enactment.

Near the close he affirmed that the Act not only violated the Constitution, but shocked the public conscience and offended the divide law; and following the injunctions of moralists and of the fathers of the Church, he denied to it any title to obedience.⁷³

His own summary is as follows:—

And now, sir, let us review the field over which we have passed. We have seen that any compromise, finally closing the discussion of slavery under the Constitution, is tyrannical, absurd, and impotent; that as slavery can exist only by virtue of positive law, and as it has no such positive support in the Constitution, it cannot exist within the national jurisdiction; that the Constitution nowhere recognizes property in man, and that, according to its true interpretation, freedom and not slavery is national, while slavery and not freedom is sectional; that in this spirit the national government was first organized under Washington, himself an abolitionist, surrounded by abolitionists, while the whole country, by its church, its colleges, its literature, and all its best voices, was united against slavery, and the national flag at that time, nowhere within the national territory, covered a single slave; still further, that the national government is a government of delegated powers, and as among these there is no power to support slavery, this institution cannot be national, nor can Congress in any way legislate in its behalf; and, finally, that the establishment of this principle is the true way of peace and safety for the republic. Considering next the provision for the surrender of fugitives from service, we have seen that it was not one of the original compromises [298] of the Constitution; that it was introduced tardily and with hesitation, and adopted with little discussion, while then and for a long period thereafter it was regarded with comparative indifference; that the recent Slave Act, though many times unconstitutional, is especially so on two grounds,—first, as a usurpation by Congress of powers not granted by the Constitution, and an infraction of rights secured to the States; and, secondly, as the denial of trial by jury, in a question of personal liberty and a suit at common law; that its glaring unconstitutionality finds a prototype in the British Stamp Act, which our fathers refused to obey as unconstitutional on two parallel grounds,—first, because it was a usurpation by Parliament of powers not belonging to it under the British Constitution, and an infraction of rights belonging to the Colonies; and, secondly, because it was the denial of trial by jury in certain cases of property; that as liberty is far above property, so is the outrage perpetrated by the American Congress far above that perpetrated by the British Parliament; and, finally, that the Slave Act has not that support in the public sentiment of the States where it is to be executed, which is the life of all law, and which prudence and the precept of Washington require.

Further on he said of the duty of obedience to the Act:—

The Slave Act violates the Constitution and shocks the public conscience. With modesty, and yet with firmness, let me add, sir, it offends against the divine law. No such enactment is entitled to support. As the throne of God is above every earthly throne, so are his laws and statutes above all the laws and statutes of man. To question these is to question God himself. . . . The good citizen who sees before him the shivering fugitive, guilty of no crime, pursued, hunted down like a beast, while praying for Christian help and deliverance, and then reads the requirements of this Act, is filled with horror. Here is a despotic mandate “to aid and assist in the prompt and efficient execution of this law.” Again let me speak frankly. Not rashly would I set myself against any requirement of law. This grave responsibility I would not lightly assume. But here the path of duty is clear. By the supreme law which commands me to do no injustice, by the comprehensive Christian law of brotherhood, by the Constitution which I have sworn to support, I an bound to disobey this Act. Never, in any capacity, can I render voluntary aid in its execution. Pains and penalties I will endure, but this great wrong I will not do. “Where I cannot obey actively, there I am willing to lie down and to suffer what they shall do unto me,” —such was the exclamation of him to whom we are indebted for the Pilgrim's progress while in prison for disobedience to an earthly statute. Better suffer injustice than do it; better victim than instrument of wrong; better even the poor slave returned to bondage than the wretched commissioner.

This was his conclusion:—

Finally, sir, for the sake of peace and tranquillity, cease to shock the public conscience; for the sake of the Constitution, cease to exercise a power nowhere granted, and which violates inviolable rights expressly secured. Leave this question where it was left by our fathers at the formation of our national government,—in the absolute control of the States, the appointed guardians of [299] personal liberty. Repeal this enactment; let its terrors no longer rage through the land. Mindful of the lowly whom it pursues; mindful of the good men perplexed by its requirements,—in the name of charity, in the name of the Constitution, repeal this enactment, totally and without delay. There is the example of Washington,—follow it. There, also, are words of Oriental piety, most touching and full of warning, which speak to all mankind, and now especially to us: “Beware of the groans of wounded souls, since the inward sore will at length break out! Oppress not to the utmost a single heart; for a solitary sigh has power to overturn a whole world.”

The speech occupied three hours and three quarters, and there was no interruption or disturbance of any kind. Though it was unexpected, the galleries and chambers filled soon after he began. The passages in the speech which appealed to human sympathies touched the hearts of many spectators. Mr. Webster, who happened to come in early in the speech, remained an hour;⁷⁴ and as far as known it was his last visit to the Senate. It would be most interesting to know what passed in his mind as he listened to his successor affirming doctrines and exhibiting a spirit so opposite to his own recent course in the same place.

It was the desire of the more temperate section of the Compromise party to let the speech pass unnoticed, but the Southerners were too excitable to practise such self-restraint. Clemens of Alabama, whose public life was limited to the single term he was serving, a man of little prominence and ability, rose first, and contented himself with expressing the hope that ‘none of his friends would make any reply to the speech which the senator from Massachusetts had seen fit to inflict on the Senate;’ and added, without being called to order, ‘I shall only say, sir, that the ravings of a maniac may sometimes be dangerous, but the barking of a puppy never did any harm.’ Badger⁷⁵ of North Carolina undertook a formal reply. He was a well-trained lawyer, and very ready in debate, but never rose to a statesmanlike manner of discussion, and withal was wanting in personal dignity and seriousness of character. Most of his speech, though a long one, was ad captandum, and (lid not attempt to meet the argument. He referred to the unseasonable time and occasion of Sumner's ‘elaborate oration, carefully written, studied, and committed to memory;’ upbraided him for delaying for eight months ‘the tirade of abuse’ [300] which he had come to the Senate for the purpose of making; read extracts from his speech in Faneuil Hall in 1850 (extracts which Mr. hale wittily said in reply were the best part of Badger's speech), and declared that only respect for the usages of the Senate prevented his applying ‘an appropriate epithet’ to its author. When interrupted by Sumner with an inquiry as to the authorities for a legal opinion of Judge Story he had cited, he replied that Story's authority was of ten thousand times more value than that of the senator from Massachusetts, ‘who will please to have the decency not to interrupt me.’ He intimated that association with the author of such a speech might not be hereafter agreeable to Southern senators,—a remark altogether misplaced, as Sumner had sought no introductions to them and had waited for them to approach him. The speech had been wholly impersonal, and these epithets and sneers and offensive suggestions provoked no retort from Sumner; but the time was to come when insolence would not escape so easily.

The ill-temper was, however, confined to Clemens and Badger. The senators from Virginia⁷⁶ and South Carolina, usually the swiftest to defend slavery and to assail all who assailed it, remained silent. Rusk of Texas was the only other Southern senator who joined in the debate, and he only in a few words, which, though referring to the senator's ‘rhetorical flourishes,’ were neither unparliamentary nor uncivil.⁷⁷ Three Democratic senators from New England—Bradbury, Toucey, and James—took occasion to express themselves against Sumner's amendment, or any disturbance of the Compromise measures; but they were entirely respectful to him. Dodge of Iowa insisted on the constitutionality of the law which ‘had been so eloquently and fiercely denounced,’ and said ‘it was lamentable to see gentlemen possessed of a high order of talents, of extensive and varied erudition, and who should from their knowledge and experience know much of men and things, engaged in riding this hobby to the extremes to which many of them are going in their grand crusade for liberty, equality, and fraternity,’ and trying ‘to introduce black-skinned, flat-nosed, and woolly-headed senators [301] and representatives.’ Douglas, without referring to Sumner's speech, set forth briefly the argument in favor of the constitutionality of the Act. Weller of California, formerly of Ohio, disavowed all sympathy with the Abolitionists, condemned the speech as ‘inflammatory, and indirectly, at least, counselling forcible resistance;’ and he held its author personally responsible for the blood of persons killed in its execution. He said, however, in a rather pleasant way, that it was the first Abolition speech he had ever listened to, and added: ‘I did not know that it was possible that I could endure a speech for over three hours upon the subject of the abolition of slavery; but this oration of the senator from Massachusetts to-day has been so handsomely embellished with poetry, both Latin and English, so full of classical allusions and rhetorical flourishes, as to make it much more palatable than I supposed it could have been made.’ He showed no ill feeling, and allowed himself to be interrupted several times by Sumner, who disclaimed any suggestion of a resort to force in resisting the law. Cass, making no reference to Sumner, explained in a pitiable way why he did not vote upon the Fugitive Slave law, and declared his purpose henceforth to stand by it. Bright of Indiana, expelled ten years later for disloyalty,⁷⁸ abstaining from comments on Sumner's speech, vindicated the Act, and applied the epithet ‘fanatics’ to its opponents. Cooper of Pennsylvania found no fault with Sumner for occupying the time of the Senate, even at this late day, and said:—

It was his right to do it, and I am glad that he has exercised that right, because at last we have fully, broadly, and fairly presented to the country the designs and intentions of the party which he represents. Hitherto, bold as the gentlemen who profess to represent that party on this floor have been, they have not come out with the fullness and frankness of the senator from Massachusetts. I thank him for this full and fair exposition of his views, and of the intentions of those of whom he is the leader.

The debate, lasting till seven, drifted near the end into a discussion of the Presidential question, involving thrusts and retorts between Democratic and Whig senators on matters quite apart from Sumner's speech, and was finally arrested by the chair at the instance of Hunter, who expressed a wish to go on with the pending appropriation bill. Sumner was supported by [302] the two Free Soil senators only. They united in saying that the speech marked ‘a new era’ in American history. Hale said Sumner had ‘done enough by the effort he has made here today to place himself side by side with the first orators of antiquity, and as far ahead of any living American orator as freedom is ahead of slavery;’ and that he had ‘made a draft upon the gratitude of the friends of humanity and of liberty that will not be paid through many generations, and the memory of which shall endure as long as the English language is spoken, or the history of this republic forms a part of the annals of the world.’ Chase defended Sumner's choice of time, to which he had been driven by the Senate's refusal to grant him in July the customary courtesy. He said further:—

The argument which my friend from Massachusetts has addressed to us to-day was not an assault upon the Constitution. It was a noble vindication of that great charter of government from the perversions of the advocates of the Fugitive Slave Act. . . .What has the senator from Massachusetts asserted? That the fugitive-servant clause of the Constitution is a clause of compact between the States, and confers no legislative power upon Congress. He has arrayed history and reason in support of this proposition; and I avow my conviction, now and here, that logically and historically his argument is impregnable, entirely impregnable.

The two senators, Clemens and Badger, who violated the proprieties of the Senate in their rebukes of Sumner, lived to regard him in a different light. The former, in a letter to Sumner, Nov. 21, 1864, marked ‘private,’ and written from Philadelphia, avowed himself a Unionist, and stated his purpose to live in the North, occupied with literary pursuits, unless he returned to Alabama for the purpose of restoring that State to the Union. Six months later he died at Huntsville. Badger was nominated at the next session after Sumner's speech as a justice of the Supreme Court, and to his surprise found Sumner supporting his confirmation by voice as well as vote. After his rejection by the Senate for political reasons, he wrote to Sumner a letter, Feb. 11, 1853, acknowledging that he was the only senator who had any reason to entertain feelings of unkindness towards himself, regretting the expressions he had indulged in during the debate of the previous session, designed at the time, as he now confessed, to be directly and personally offensive to Sumner, and expressing his sense of Sumner's generous magnanimity. Sumner replied:— [303]

Never insensible to any word of kindness, I have not read your letter without emotion. For a long time your sentiments towards me had been apparent, both in private and in public. While feeling that you did me wrong, I was silent; nor did I anticipate any change on your part. Our relations seemed to be fixed; but time, the reconciler, has brought about what I never foresaw, and the injury of the past is forgotten in the reparation of the present. You allude with sensibility to my course on your nomination as associatejustice of the Supreme Court; for this I deserve nothing, as I expected nothing. In the discharge of a public trust, after mature reflection, I felt constrained under all the circumstances of the case to support your nomination. This was my duty; “nor more, nor less.”

Judge McLean, who read the correspondence, wrote Sumner a note warmly commending his course as an illustration of elevated patriotism in ignoring a personal injury.

Though Sumner made no reply to his assailants, the interruptions which he made when he thought his positions were misstated showed that he felt himself master of the situation, and not at all disconcerted. Indeed, he had every reason to be satisfied with the impression he had made. The speech was free from personalities, from the criticism of living pubic men, and from any description of the incidents of slavery which could offend reasonable men who were supporting it from self-interest or political connection. Viewed from an antislavery standpoint, it was moderate in tone and statements. It was of a style to which the Senate was unused, with a classic finish such as belonged only to Everett among contemporary orators. Sumner's rich sonorous voice and fine presence were added to charm of style. He impressed senators and spectators with his profound sincerity. His sentiments were lofty, appealing to generous minds; and for the moment, some who listened, hard politicians though they were, must have had their better natures stirred, while they looked beyond the forced and unnatural compact of parties against the agitation of slavery, and recognized in his fearlessness and undaunted purpose the prophecy of a new North, and of the destined fall of slavery itself.⁷⁹

Such, however, were the political adjustments of the time that only three other senators sustained in the vote his proposition of repeal,—Chase and Hale, his Free Soil associates, and Wade, nominally a Whig, with strong antislavery sentiments [304] confirmed by pledges. Sumner's colleague, Davis,⁸⁰ Foot of Vermont, Norris of New Hampshire, Dodge of Wisconsin, and, most marked of all, Seward⁸¹ dodged the vote. In the column of forty-seven compromisers and disunionists who answered in support of the Fugitive Slave law on that day were Hamilton Fish, and four senators from New England,—John H. Clarke, Hamlin, Truman Smith, and Upham. It is difficult at this distance of time to comprehend the degradation of American politics in the years 1850-1854.

In the popular interest it excited, the speech ranks with Corwin's on the Mexican War, in 1847, and with Webster's on the Compromise, in 1850.⁸² No speech on the slavery question is even now so readable. It was strong in its enunciation of the local and sectional character of slavery, in this respect appealing to the convictions of people whose sentiments were patriotic and national, and giving a watchword which was adopted,—‘Freedom national, slavery sectional.’ It put in a clear light the want of any power in Congress to legislate on the subject,⁸³ and the inconsistency of the Fugitive Slave Act with the Constitution, particularly in its denial of the right of trial by jury, and relieved the consciences of those who had been constrained to yield it support under a sense of constitutional obligation.⁸⁴ [305] Whether traversing new fields or gleaning where others had reaped, the argument was put in a form which invited the study of multitudes of thoughtful citizens who are ordinarily repelled by political speeches.⁸⁵ It was a most potent influence in massing the best thought and sentiment of an enlightened and Christian people against the system which the statute was designed to protect. But elsewhere than in the free States it had significance and effect. From that day the partisans of slavery recognized a new power in the Senate and in the country. Sumner stood before them as the antislavery protagonist. He stood not as a politician, but as the representative of moral and spiritual forces which slavery must overcome, or perish. Other men might escape from the Senate or pass behind the Vice-President's chair to avoid an embarrassing record in an election at hand; but here was a man who for no personal or political advantage would qualify his opposition or yield a point.⁸⁶ He spoke no idle words; every sentence was matured; and he marshalled law, logic, history, facts, literature, morals, and religion against American slavery in a contest which could end only in its extinction.

Sumner lacked, indeed, Chase's judicial style; but for the work he had to do, he was all the stronger for what might be thought a defect. He did not hide his meaning under euphemistic phrases,—never, like Seward, substituting ‘labor’ and ‘capital’ for ‘free’ and ‘slave’ States; but he always challenged the wrong he withstood by its real name. He never treated a grave question sportively; but when slavery was the topic, he was as serious in private talk as in the debates of the Senate.⁸⁷ If the Southern men thought other Northern leaders were playing a part, and would, like Webster and Corwin, yield their position under a sufficient pressure of ambition or selfinterest, [306] they exempted him from such a suspicion.⁸⁸ He was not sincerer in conviction or firmer in purpose than Giddings; but far more than that veteran of the House he could by his wide range of thought and research, and by his confessed powers as an orator, force the attention and respect of a hostile assembly.

Sumner continued at his desk after his speech till the session of the day closed. He spoke briefly in favor of an allowance to the widow of A. J. Downing, the rural architect, partly for arrears of his salary as superintendent of the public grounds in Washington. Clemens, who had not yet recovered his calmness, said that Sumner's support of the appropriation ‘satisfied him that he was entirely right in opposing it;’ and a little later he referred to the other senator from Massachusetts (Mr. Davis), ‘who has the fortune to be a gentleman, which his colleague has not.’ There were cries of ‘Order,’ and the president said, ‘The senator must not indulge in such language.’ Clemens proceeded, but for the rest of the day observed the rules.

Sumner's first note of congratulation was from Mrs. Fish, wife of the senator from New York, whose husband, as shown by his vote, had not been persuaded by the speech:—

Permit me, my dear Mr. Sumner, to add my humble tribute of admiration to the congratulations you are receiving from your friends upon the successful defence of freedom made by you this morning. . . . You can afford to look quietly on and let the excitement pass by; the truths brought forward by you to-day must and will make a lasting impression even here, where prejudice holds the common mind fast bound in ignorance and error.

Mrs. Seward wrote from Auburn, N. Y., September 18:—

I have read with great pleasure your eloquent and convincing argument against the Fugitive Slave bill. This fearless defence of freedom must silence those cavillers who doubted your sincerity.⁸⁹ It is a noble plea for a righteous cause. Hoping and believing—yea, through faith knowing, because His Word bath told us so—that the truth will ultimately triumph, since its abandonment by a majority of the Whig party I have been watching with increased interest the course of those who have not bowed the knee to Baal. May God prosper their efforts! I am truly glad to see that Mrs. Fish has become so warm a convert to principles which have as yet failed to win her husband.

Mr. Seward himself wrote also from Auburn, September 22:

Your speech is an admirable, a great, a very great one. That is my opinion; and every one around me, of all sorts, confesses it.

The reformers were gladdened. Burritt, toiling in England for ‘ocean penny postage,’ ‘wept with joy and admiration while reading the magnificent speech.’ William Jay pronounced it ‘worthy of the gentleman, the lawyer, and the Christian.’ His son John, as soon as he read the telegraphic report, wrote, ‘I regard it as a triumph both for yourself and the cause of freedom;’ and a few days later, reading the revised copy, declared it ‘a noble and unanswerable argument.’ James G. Birney, the Liberty candidate of 1844, expressed his ‘great gratification,’ and anticipated ‘the powerful effect it would produce on the country.’ William I. Bowditch, the Abolitionist (his brother Henry, the eminent physician, writing in a similar vein), wrote:—

I have read your speech with delight and profit. Worthy as it is of yourself, it is also worthy of the noble cause which inspired it. It abounds with new illustrations of old points, and offers many new and important facts which have not been introduced into the discussion. The system has never received such a telling blow in any speech which I have read. The parallel between the Stamp Act and the Fugitive Slave law, and the argument on the unconstitutionality of the latter, are unanswerable.

Theodore Parker wrote, Sept. 6, 1852:—

You have made a grand speech,—well researched, well arranged, well written, and I doubt not as well delivered. It was worth while to go to Congress and make such a speech. I think you never did anything better as a work of art, never anything more timely. This so far as you are concerned will elevate you in the esteem of good men, American as well as European, as a man, an orator, and a statesman. You have now done what I have all along said you would do, though I lamented you did not do it long ago.

Wendell Phillips, though differing on some points, wrote, September 3:—

I have read your masterly speech with envious admiration. It is admirable, both as a masterly argument and a noble testimony, and will endear you to thousands.

Wilson called the speech ‘glorious,’ and said, ‘How proud I am that God gave me the power to aid in placing you in [308] the Senate!’ S. C. Phillips regarded it as ‘a contribution of inestimable value to our noble cause,’ and ‘statesmanlike in all its features.’ Chase, who had heard it, bore, after reading it, his second testimony to its convincing power. Horace Mann wrote, the day after it was delivered, to Mrs. Mann, that it ‘would tell on the country, and be a speech for a book and for history.’ John Bigelow, of the New York Evening Post, who, though a faithful friend of Sumner, looked at antislavery speeches, and indeed all speeches, with a critical, almost cynical eye, wrote:—

I have just finished reading your speech, to which I have devoted the best part of the day. Unless I greatly err, it is the heaviest blow which has yet been levelled against the Fugitive Slave bill from the tribune. Others may have done more to make its enactors and champions infamous, but no one has done as much to prore the law itself infamous. The speech has this great and rare merit, that it is not in the ordinary and vulgar acceptation of the term an inflammatory speech. No slaveholder or slavecatcher has any cause for losing his temper in reading it, though if he have any sensibility or brains he would be likely to lose a potion of his self-respect.

Men of scholarly habits and trained intellects enjoyed the finished style, dignified tone, and moral enthusiasm of the speech. Dr. I. Ray, yielding to the force of his argument against the power of Congress to legislate for the rendition of fugitive slaves, though holding previously a different opinion, wrote:—

The lofty tone which pervades your speech, peculiarly appropriate to the subject, quickened the motion of my blood a little, and—I mention it as a matter of fact, not compliment—frequently reminded me of Burke's American speeches. I doubt not it will make its mark on public sentiment.

George B. Emerson thought it ‘an admirable speech,—one of the noblest that have ever been made in Congress.’ Professor Charles Beck commended ‘its mild and manly tone,’ superior to speeches conspicuous for violent language, and entitling it to a permanent place in the future discussion of the slavery question in all its aspects. J. E. Worcester, author of the Dictionary, wrote with ‘admiration of its ability and excellent spirit.’ William C. Bryant said ‘it was the only thing which preserved the character of the Senate.’ Timothy Walker, of Cincinnati, a conservative jurist, thought it not only the ablest of Sumner's efforts, but the ablest exposition of that side of the question he had met with, believing this to be also the opinion [309] of all candid men, and even of the Southerners, as shown by the reception they gave it. The speech was warmly applauded in letters from eminent divines,—Charles Lowell, John Pierpont, Convers Francis, William H. Furness, A. A. Livermore, Samuel Osgood, Rufus P. Stebbins, and James W. Thompson. A senator then far removed in opinion and party action (Cooper of Pennsylvania), whose subsequent change of position may have been due to the speech, wrote:—

While I differ with you in many of your views on this subject, I can still admire the ability and manly frankness with which you maintain them. As an intellectual effort, your speech will rank with any made in the Senate since I have been a member of it.

Many years afterwards, Wilson wrote in his history,⁹⁰ ‘This speech—learned, logical, exhaustive, and eloquent, worthy of the cause it advocated—placed the new senator at once among the foremost of the forensic debaters of America.’ Von Holst bears witness to ‘its overpowering impression on friend and foe alike,’ its ‘fervency of holy, enthusiastic conviction,’ its ‘all-overcoming force of moral ideas,’ and to the feeling which ‘ran both through the North and the South, that a man with a conscience had arisen in the legislative body of the Union.’⁹¹

The work which Sumner began in 1852 with only three coadjutors, he finished, as the sequel will show, twelve years later, when he reported and carried the repeal of all laws for the rendition of fugitive slaves.⁹²

He wrote to John Bigelow, August 30:—

The kind interest you express in my speech tempts me to the confidence of friendship. I shall be attacked, and the speech will be disparaged. But you shall know something of what was said on the floor of the Senate.⁹³ You will see what Hale and Chase said openly in debate. Others are reported in conversation. I know that some Hunkers have felt its force. Clarke of Rhode Island said “it would be a text-book when they were dead and gone;” Shields said “it was the ablest speech ever made in the Senate on slavery;” and Bright used even stronger language. Cass has complimented me warmly. [310] Soule has expressed himself in the strongest terms. Weller, after using strong terms of praise, said “it would do more mischief than any speech ever made in the country.” Polk,⁹⁴ who was sober, and who listened for two hours, said “the argument was unanswerable,” though he could not say this aloud. I write these for your private and friendly eye. I throw the speech down as a gage. I believe it presents the true limits of opposition to slavery within the Constitution. I challenge an answer. The attempts in the Senate were puerile and ill-tempered.

I cannot leave here before the end of the week. Many matters will detain me after the close of the session. I see that I am announced for Faneuil Hall next Tuesday. This I regret. I am weary, and long for vacation. I have been in my seat every day this session. I shall hope to see you on my way through New York, to converse on many things. I regret very much that John Van Buren has gone into this campaign. If he could not oppose Baltimore he should have been silent. Even Weller, with whom has been speaking in New Hampshire, says he ought to have gone to Europe. My admiration and attachment for him have been sincere, and in the most friendly spirit I regret his course. Pardon this freedom. We are now in the hurly-burly of a last day; the pressure is immense.

To Dr. I. Ray, Providence, R. I., September 21:—

You are right in supposing that I foresaw the difficulties of State action under that clause of the Constitution. But my special aim in the Senate was to beat down the existing Act and assumption of power, knowing full well that when this is done there will be no further question. The South have, by a false move on their part, given us the opportunity of battle on this field, where their ultimate defeat is inevitable. They cannot stand against the argument. In an edition of the speech now publishing in Boston I have introduced two or three sentences on the interpretation of the clause, wherein, without assuming any new position, I open some of the difficulties,—impossibilities, let me say. It is clear to me that under that clause, when strictly interpreted, no slave can be delivered up. Of this I have no doubt; but in saying this I might have weakened in some minds the force of the attack on the Act.

The Boston journals, which had taunted Sumner and his Free Soil supporters for his silence on the slavery question, and which had devoted long articles to his land speech, abstained from all editorial mention of this speech against the Fugitive Slave Act which was attracting universal attention, not even giving it so much as a paragraph in the news column.⁹⁵ The reason for this reserve was obvious. Finding nothing in the speech which could [311] be the subject of cavil, they would not, by drawing public attention to it, strengthen the position of its author.

Of English friends who expressed warmly their approval of the speech, were Alderson and Cresswell among judges; Adolphus, the reporter, now a county judge; W. E. Forster, then a contributor to the Westminster Review on the slavery question; Nassau W. Senior, Joseph Parkes, John Kenyon, George Combe, and the most affectionate of all Sumner's English friends, the Earl of Carlisle. These, as well as other Englishmen, rarely closed their letters without the expression of an earnest desire to see him again in their country.