Ebenezer Tucker to Frederick Douglass, May 20, 1852
Letter from E. Tucker.
Mr. Editor: — I have a few things to say upon some matters now before the country, and I send them to you for publication. I know that some of my thoughts herein expressed, differ from your own, and from those of other friends of freedom; but the subject is important, and should be well considered.
There is, among abolitionists, an inclination to advise, and encourage, and applaud forcible resistance to the Fugitive Slave Law. This appears, in many ways: in praising the Christiana affair, in resolutions, addresses, &c., in direct appeal, to arm and shoot down the officer who dares molest, &c, &c.
Now I grant that the law is abominable; that the law is execrable; that none are bound in equity by its provisions; that every man ought to refuse to aid, in any way, its enforcement; but still, it seems by no means clear to my mind that force should be employed to prevent the execution of the law. Forcible resistance is, at best, questionable. — its influence in a civilized country, for the redress of wrongs, is generally bad. Its use, in this particular case, will be vain, and its effects, evil.
But you will say, tyrants should be resisted: or as the old Virginia motto has it, "Resistance to tyrants, is obedience to God." I answer, statements which will do well enough to express general principles, must often, when applied to practice, be qualified and limited in many ways. President Fillmore, in some respects, is a tyrant; but does anybody suppose it would be a virtue to kill him? Nicholas, of Russia, is a tyrant; yet is it certain that it is worth while to attempt a rebellion in that Empire? Many a magis-
trate oppresses and tyrannizes; yet, ought every such magistrate to be shot? Many an innocent man is sent to the State Prison; is it best for his friends to league together for his rescue, by force, from the Penitentiary? Sometimes an innocent man is executed on the gallows; yet is it certain that it would be right to take him from the office of the law by violence?
Much is said of fighting, of bloodshed for liberty, and so on. I do not deny that force is sometimes needful, but it is not always best; and it may be as needful to endure sometimes. And in this country, what is to be gained by the use of force in this matter? To be classed with evil-doers, and to be punished as such; to fail in the object sought, to lose much and gain nothing.
It is easy to talk, to threaten shooting, &c., but I do not see those who advocate such resistance, any more ready than others to follow their own advice. Where was John Thomas, for instance, in the Syracuse affair? Across the street, in his room, looking on: glad, to be sure, but doing nothing. Why was he not among them, handling clubs and bludgeons. Probably, because his instinctive conviction, is, that, on the whole, it is not best. Why then, should he so fiercely urge others to do what he will not do himself? I mention his name in particular, because his editorials, some months ago, used to be fierce for forcible resistance to the last extent.
But you say these men at Christiana are doing only what Washington, and Hancock, and Cromwell, and what Kossuth did; and what the world applaud them for doing. I answer, circumstances alter cases. It does not follow, because Washington and his compatriots were right and successful in resisting, unto blood, the English government, that therefore it is wise and best for men now to counsel and to use force against the statutes of the country. As I have already said, I regard all the laws against the people of color, in this case, as base and abominable, and the Fugitive law as peculiarly and outragously so. I will not obey it, as every man ought to refuse to do. I will assist and shelter fugitives to the extent of my ability, and yet I regard bloodshed by colored people, or their resistance to its execution, as unwise, useless for good, and powerful for evil; and so viewing it, I cannot but counsel all concerned against it.
But I wish to say a word concerning treason, and the matters connected with it.
What is treason? I am a plain man, not acquainted with law technicalities; but so are the masses of the people, for whose guidance and government the Constitution was made; and the Constitution should be such, therefore, that, with proper attention and help, the mass of the people can understand it. The matter, as it seems to me, is tolerably plain. Two things are declared, in express terms, to be treason, and treason is expressly limited to those two. 1. Levying war against the United States. 2. Giving aid and comfort to their enemies. It is evident that the second depends upon the first, since the "enemies" in the second, are those who engage in "levying war" in the first. There must be "levying war," and without it, there can be no treason against this government.
The question then is, what is "levying war?" It is astonishing, to what a pass men are brought, sometimes, by perverted legal reasoning. In the Christiana case, a man sent word to some fugitives, that pursuers were after them, and he is, for that act, indicted, by a Pennsylvania Grand Jury, for High Treason! If this be treason, there is treason without end, every year. A man escapes from jail; the officer is after him; a person tells the fugitive, so that he may elude pursuit; he is overtaken, resists the officer and escapes. The informant has committed High Treason! and must be hung. Can folly farther go? There is scarcely an act, even the simplest violation of law, but may be tortured into treason in this way.
But what is "levying war" against the United States? I answer, raising an army or band, with the intent to overthrow, by violence, the United States government, or wholly to prevent the exercise of its functions, as such, in any portion of the country, and the use of force, in any attempt to carry out that intent. There must be a banding together, with arms, and the intent to overthrow, or wholly to obstruct, the government, and an attempt, by force, to carry out that intent. Can anything short of this be treason? be "levying war?" But you say, men may overthrow the government, or may prevent the exercise of its operations by others means. So they may. They may league together, and bind themselves to have nothing to do with the government or its officers. They might refuse to vote for U.
S. officers; they might peaceably refuse to pay taxes, and so manage that none could be collected, and thus nullify the power of government: but none of this would be treason, because no force is used. An attack on any political officer, would not be treason. Was the attempt to shoot President Jackson an act of treason? No, because it was not an attack on the government, as such.
There has been resistance to law enough, in this country, for many years. Why has it not been reckoned and punished as treason? The Anti-Rent troubles, in which Sheriff Steele was killed; the Anti-Mormon troubles, in which John Smith and his brother were shot; the Philadelphia "Native Riots;" the New York Theatre Riot, why were they never called treason? For a very good reason - they were not treason, altho' they were much more nearly so, especially the Anti-Rent and Mormon Troubles, than the Christiana and Syracuse affairs. Resistance to law, is generally a crime; but all criminal taking of life, is not murder. Judge Kane says that resistance to law, tends to cut the cord that binds society together, and hence, is treason. So does all crime tend to the same thing, but all crime is not treason.
But another point. "In treason there are no accessories." This is declared to be law. Law or no law, it is abominable. Why are there degrees in guilt at all? Why do we have murder, manslaughter, justifiable homicide, grand larceny, petit larcency, principal and accessory? Because there are degrees of connection, of agency, of criminality. — Now, can this be the case in treason or not? If not, then all connected with treason are principals, but not otherwise. A lawless villain raises an armed force—declares war against the United States—gives battle—is defeated—taken prisoner. Here is treason, of course. He escapes—is pursued—a friend informs him of the pursuit, and in consequence is not overtaken. Is the crime the same? In the flight, a grocer sells him food. That is "aid and comfort;" but is his crime
equal to the first? A farmer finds him in the field, cold and hungry, and, from motives of humanity, takes him in, gives him food and lodging. Here again is aid and comfort; but is he, too, to be hung by the neck till he is dead! dead!! dead!!!
If there can be accessories in minor crimes, much more in treason, the greatest of all state crimes, how can it be possible that so execrable a dogma has escaped the softening hand of mercy and justice? It is this very thing, passed with unrelenting vigor by Judge Jeffreys, in his famous "Bloody Cicruit," that makes him to be remembered but to be execrated by all freemen the world over. - Perhaps it is because for so many years treason has been almost unknown in England and America, that this relic of by-gone despotism still remains, like old Giant Pope in Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, to shake its gory beard and clench its trembling fists, and exclaim, "You will never mend till more of you be burnt;" that the detestable doctrine, "In treason, all are principals," has lived down to this day.
But why in treason are there no accessories? Because in England, ages ago, that was the doctrine, and because under it human beings in scores and by hundreds were burned at the stake, drowned in the advancing tide, choked to death by the hangman, beheaded, drawn and quartered. But so was "hanging for stealing" the law in England then, and is so yet. Burning heretics was once the law in England; and we may thank the men of old that were not afraid of the penalty of treason that it is not now. Is all judicial wisdom and light hidden in the darkness of the times of Charles and James?
Is there none among us, no not one, able to judge of judicial right, that we are driven back into those ages of despotism, terrible enough to make one's hair stand on end at the thought, to learn what are the rights of free-born Americans? It is amazing how blind the wisest men do become sometimes—unable to see the difference between speaking a word in a man's ear and knocking his brains out—between arraying serried thousands, full clad in panoply of steel, and sending word to a fugitive slave that his master is in pursuit of him.
But, after all, if men are to be hung for giving help to Southern fugitives, the sooner it is known and done, too, the better, perhaps. The government would do well to prepare in season, and fully. The price of timber will rise, and hemp grow scarce, ere gallowses enough are built, and ropes made to stretch the necks of all the treasonous crew. It will do will, like Egypt's god, to order all the children born to be thrown to the dogs, and, like Tamerlane or what not, to build up walls of mortar and human skulls till none are left; for not till our fair land is depopulated and laid waste, and our goodly heritage becomes a howling wilderness, will sympathy for suffering humanity cease from among us. O my God! must slavery accursed undo all that has been done during the last three centuries for freedom and human rights, and make this land the house what may well be called "doctors of devils," of ages long gone by! Are we to be impoverished, imprisoned, condemned and hung till three times dead, because we will not bow down to this Moloch, this image, not of gold, like the one set up on the plains of Spinar in ancient times, but of human skulls
and bones, set up by the slave power? Well, be our answer like that of Daniel and his compeers, "Our God, he will deliver us; but if not, be it known unto thee, O King, that we will not bow down nor worship the image which thou hast set up."
I have written, perhaps, too long; but I did not realize how long it was, and I know not where to stop. I try to be calm when I write, because hot words are generally taken as the sign of inflamed passion; but in dwelling on these detestable treason doctrines and trials, my blood boils and my brain burns, and I feel almost like calling for fire from heaven to sweep the whole brood from the face of the earth. But, Oh! we should remember that good will be brought out of evil—must take those for an example who were patient and endured. We must remember that the rights of men are a legacy, secured by toil and suffering, by bloodshed and lives laid down, on the scaffold, in prison, and on the tented field, and why should we be exempt from a share in the great conflict? As the martyrs and conformers all have stood firm for the sake of generations [then] unborn,
so ought we to stand in our lot. The admirable little poem by Whittier, entitled, "Barclay of Tery," runs in my head, especially the latter stanzas, and I must transcribe them, at the expense of being more tedious still.
"Not in vain Confessors old,
"Unto us the tale is told
"Of thy day of trial;
"Every age of him who strays
"From her broad and beaten ways,
"Peers its seven-fold vial.
"Happy he whose inward ear
"Angel comfortings can hear,
"O'er the rabble's laughter.
"And, while Hatred's fagots burn.
"Glimpses thro' the smoke discern
"Of the good hereafter.
"Knowing this that never yet,
"Share of truth was vainly set,
"In the world's wide fallow,
"After hands shall now the need,
"After hands from hill and [ ]
"Reap the harvests yellow.
"Than, with something of the star,
"Must the moral pioneer,
"From the future borrow -
"Clothe the waste with dreams of grain,
"And, on midnight's sky of rain,
"Paint the golden morrow,"
Spartanburg, Indiana, 1852.