ever since the Revolution, have been hostile to freedom.
In Massachusetts we have a few rich men friendly to
freedom—they are very few; the greater part of even Massachusetts capital goes towards bondage — not towards
freedom. In general, the chief men of commerce are
hostile to it. They want first money, next money, and
money last of all; fairly if they can get it—if not, unfairly. Hence, the commercial cities are the headquarters of slavery; all the mercantile capitals execute the Fugitive Slave Bill—Philadelphia, New York, Boston, Buffalo, Cincinnati; only small towns repudiate man-stealing. The Northern capitalists lend money and take slaves as collateral; they are good security ; you can realize on it any day. The Northern merchant takes slaves into his ships as merchandise. It pays very well. If you take them on a foreign voyage, it is "piracy;" but taken coastwise, the domestic slave-trade is a legal traffic. In 1852, a ship called the "Edward Everett" made two voyages from Baltimore to New Orleans, and each time it carried slaves, once twelve, and once twenty.
A sea captain in Massachusetts told a story to the com- missioners sent to look after the Indians, which I will repeat. He commanded a small brig, which plied between Carolina and the Gulf States. "One day, at Charleston," said he, "a man came and brought to me an old negro slave. He was very old, and had fought in the Revolution, and had been much distinguished for bravery and other soldierly qualities. If he had not been a negro, he would have become a captain at least, perhaps a colonel. But, in his old age, his master found no use for him, and said he could not afford to keep him. He asked me to take the revolutionary soldier and carry him South and sell him. I carried him," said the man, "to Mobile, and I tried to get as good and kind a master for him as I could, for I didn't like to sell a man who had fought for his country. I sold the old revolutionary soldier for a hundred dollars to a citizen of Mobile, who raised poultry, and he set him to tend a hen-coop." I suppose the South Carolina master, "a true gentleman," drew the pension till the soldier died. "How could you do such a thing?" said my friend, who was an anti-slavery man. "If I didn't do it," he replied, "I never
