Virginia Hamilton (6 page)

Loring agreed, and Dana explained how frightened the prisoner, Anthony Burns, was. “He cannot act even in his own behalf,” Dana said. “I suggest that you call him up to the bench instead of addressing him in the prisoner's dock. He will then be out of the way
of the gaze of the claimant, Colonel Suttle. And so we might know what he wants to do.”

“I intend to do that,” Judge Loring said. “But now I must proceed.”

“Yes, of course,” Dana said, “thank you, Your Honor.” And he sat down.

Judge Loring started the proceedings by saying that he was presiding as a U.S. Commissioner, that his duties were executive, and that the hearing was an inquiry. The question before the court, he said, was whether he should award to Charles F. Suttle a certificate authorizing him to take to Virginia the slave Anthony Burns. The claim was that Anthony Burns owed Mr. Suttle service and labor.

“There are three facts that are to be proved,” Loring said. “And these are: that Anthony Burns escaped from slavery from the state of Virginia; that Anthony Burns was by the law of Virginia the slave of Charles F. Suttle; that the prisoner is indeed Anthony Burns.

“If counsel for Charles Suttle can prove these facts,” the judge continued, “I am empowered to issue a certificate stating the proofs; this will allow the rendition of Anthony Burns.”

Anthony listened now and understood. He knew what rendition was. Means me, he thought, taken back home by Mars Charles. Means me, a slave again.

He swallowed hard and felt himself retreat within. But there was no comfort now. His loneliness and fear, his wretched hunger, wouldn't permit him to bring the memory of Mamaw into this harsh place. Neither could he bring forth the child he had been
. Where was that young Anthony now? he wondered, for he could not summon the image of the boy he had been.

The second counsel for Charles Suttle, Edward C. Parker, now rose, and read from the warrant for Anthony's arrest:

“
In the name of the President of the United States of America, you are hereby commanded forthwith to apprehend Anthony Burns, a negro man, alleged now to be in your District, charged with being a fugitive from labor, and with having escaped from service in the State of Virginia, and have him forthwith before me, Edward G. Loring, one of the Commissioners of the Circuit Court of the United States, there to answer to the complaint of Charles F. Suttle, of Alexandria, alleging under oath that said Burns, on the twenty-fourth day of March last, and for a long time prior thereto had owed service and labor to him in the State of Virginia and that, while held to service there by said Suttle, the said Burns escaped into the said State of Massachusetts
….”

He next read the record of the Virginia Court as required by the Fugitive Slave Act:

“
In Alexandria Circuit Court, May 16, 1854. On the application of Charles F. Suttle, who this day appeared in Court and made satisfactory proof to the Court that Anthony Burns was held to service and labor by him in the State of Virginia, and service and labor are due to him from the said Anthony, and that the said Anthony has escaped. Anthony is a man of dark complexion, about six feet high, with a scar on one of his cheeks, and also a scar on the back of his right hand, and about twenty-three or four years of age
—
it is therefore ordered, in pursuance of an act of Congress, ‘An Act respecting Fugitives from Justice and Persons escaping from the Service of their masters,' that the matter set forth be entered on the record of this Court
.”

The abolitionist lawyer Charles
Mayo Ellis watched the proceedings closely. When he saw Richard Dana speak privately to Judge Loring, he supposed Dana meant to make himself the lawyer for Anthony Burns. But when this did not seem to be his purpose, Mr. Ellis made his way to Dana's side as quietly as he could.

As Edward Parker went on with the Alexandria Circuit Court record, Ellis spoke urgently to Richard Dana. “Loring is sitting as a
judge
, Richard. You must
do
something. Massachusetts law clearly forbids judges sitting on slave cases.

“There's no jury,” Ellis added. “The armed guards sitting illegally in the jury box are plainly petty thieves being used to terrify an already frightened man.”

Richard Dana shrugged. “What can I do?” he said. “Anthony Burns would seem to want to go back without trouble to his master. He won't accept my aid.”

Reverend Theodore Parker got to his feet. He could stand it no longer. It was clear to him that the poor fugitive was being tried without a lawyer. He marched angrily to the front of the courtroom just as Edward Parker was finishing and before Marshal Freeman could testify.

He strode up to the witness box
and peered into it. On seeing that Anthony was handcuffed, he glared indignantly at Judge Loring. Next, he spoke to Anthony.

“I am Theodore Parker,” he said. “I am a minister. Surely you want me to help you.”

He could see that Anthony was frozen with fear. “Let us give you counsel,” Parker said. “Richard Dana there is the best lawyer in Boston. He is on your side! The black man over there is Robert Morriss and a fine lawyer, too. Will you not let us defend you?”

Anthony began to shake all over. Lord, oh, Lord! Tell me what I must do! he thought.

But he couldn't help seeing that Mars Charles Suttle watched him, that Mars Brent watched him. Anthony commenced stammering, “Mars … Mars … Colonel … he know … he knows me … I shall have to go back. Mars Brent … know me.”

“But it can do you no harm to make a defense,” urged Parker.

“I shall have to go back,” Anthony said again. “If I must … go back, I want ter go back as easy as I can— but—do as you have a mind to.”

Theodore Parker strode back to his seat. He was thinking that if Charles Suttle's lawyers put a nervous witness on the stand and the witness made a false statement, they might have a case. He gave a nod to Richard Dana, to say that Dana had the prisoner's permission to defend him.

Colonel Suttle's other lawyer, Seth Thomas, now rose. He was upset that Theodore Parker had interrupted, but he did not show it. He at once
put William Brent upon the stand as a witness to prove the identity of the prisoner with the person named in the arrest warrant. Brent gave his testimony confidently.

He was a merchant from Richmond, Virginia, he said. And he was a close friend of Colonel Suttle.

“Do you know Anthony Burns?” Mr. Thomas asked.

“Yes, I know him well,” he said. And he stated that Anthony Burns was the prisoner in the prisoner's box.

“Can you tell us something about Anthony Burns?” Thomas asked.

Brent began speaking as if reciting: “Anthony Burns was owned by the Colonel's mother. Colonel Suttle has owned him for some fourteen years. I paid the Colonel for the services of Anthony Burns in 1846, '47, and '48.”

“Good. Now then,” the lawyer said, “can you tell me what you know about his escape?”

“In March,” said Brent, “Anthony was missing from Richmond. I didn't see him again until last day past, when he spoke to his master.”

“Kindly repeat what was said then,” said Thomas.

Theodore Parker rose to his feet again. Brent's statements concerning this conversation would be improper testimony. “You've got to defend him now,” he told Richard Dana as he stood. “And if you won't, I will!”

Judge Loring struck with his gavel in an effort to quiet Reverend Parker. Before the Marshal and his deputies could think to restrain the pastor, Richard Dana rose to address the court. It was clear to him that the prisoner would have to have his aid at once. Under the Fugitive Slave Act, the testimony of the
alleged fugitive could not be admitted as evidence. Despite this, Anthony's testimony was about to be admitted. Dana had to prevent this.

He presented himself to Judge Luring as
amicus curiae
, or friend of the court—one who is called in to advise the court. “I urge Your Honor that there be a delay so that the prisoner can decide what would be his best course,” he said.

“I oppose this motion, Your Honor,” responded Seth Thomas. “The prisoner by his own statement has admitted that he is Charles Suttle's slave. He does not want a lawyer, nor does he want a defense.”

“The prisoner is in no condition to determine whether he would have counsel or not!” Dana said heatedly. “He does not know what he is saying. He must be given time to recover himself and to talk with a lawyer.”

Over the objections of both of Suttle's lawyers, Judge Loring had Anthony Burns brought before him. Marshal Freeman hurriedly unlocked Anthony's wrist irons before leading him to the judge.

Loring spoke to Anthony in a kindly manner, explaining what the claim against him was. “Anthony, do you wish to make a defense to this claim?” he asked. “If you do, you can have counsel to aid you, and you shall have time to make a defense. You have a right to a defense if you wish for one.”

Anthony finally dared look around the room slowly. His gaze rested on Richard Dana and then on Robert Morriss, but he made no reply.

Dana thought it was all over then. But Judge Loring said to Anthony reassuringly,
“Anthony, do you wish for time to think about this? Do you wish to go away and meet me here tomorrow or next day, and tell me what you will do?”

All in the courtroom watched Anthony. He gave a slight twitching of his deformed hand, but no one knew whether he meant yes or no by the movement. He did not know himself.

I will have to go back, he was thinking. I will be whipped unto an inch of my life. I will die a slave.

Judge Loring looked doubtful, but at last he said to Anthony, “I understand you to say that you would.”

Very faintly, Anthony said, “I would.”

“Then you shall have it,” Loring said.

Marshal Freeman whispered to the judge. Judge Loring replied out loud, “No sir, he must have the time necessary.”

Again the Marshal whispered. Judge Loring replied sternly, “I can't help that, sir—he shall have the proper time.”

The day was Thursday. “You shall have until Saturday morning,” Judge Loring told Anthony and his defenders, and struck his gavel down.

Anthony was taken back to the jury room high up in the court building. There four men, including Deputy Asa Butman, guarded him.

“Tony, boy,” Butman said to him, mimicking words spoken by Charles Suttle, “now we here are curious. Did the Colonel just
raise
you up or did he
buy
you from somebody?”

The other guards nodded encouragement
. “Come on, lad, you know us here for your friends.”

Anthony knew they thought him a fool. He had figured out that they hoped to get information from him for Mars Charles and Mars Brent. He knew there must be a reward for him. Every runaway slave had a price on his head.

Wonder how much Mars Charles think me worth?

Anthony played dumb; he acted confused, stared off into space, and told his jailers nothing.

The court had emptied, and almost at once news of Anthony's arrest spread throughout Boston. The concerned public learned that slave hunters were in the city, hoping to force another wretched soul back into bondage.

All sympathetic citizens, and there were thousands, felt duty bound to disobey the Fugitive Slave Act on behalf of the captured fugitive in their midst. But there was another factor that mobilized them: for months there had been a proposal before Congress that would allow slavery in the Great Plains lands of Kansas and Nebraska. The two tracts were to be territories within the Louisiana Purchase, the enormous parcel of land, stretching from the Gulf of Mexico to Canada, bought from France in 1803. The Missouri Compromise of 1820 had closed the Louisiana Purchase to slavery “forever.” But people on the proslavery as well as the antislavery sides had been sending their settlers into Kansas and Nebraska to agitate and to be in a position to vote for their sides once the territories were divided into states.

On May 25, 1854, the very same day that Anthony appeared in court, the
Kansas-Nebraska Bill passed in the United States Senate. It permitted slavery in states that would be carved from the two territories if it was provided for in the state constitutions. So in effect it repealed the Missouri Compromise. After these victories for slavery, the jailing of a poor fugitive in a Boston court house at the bidding of a slave owner was the very last straw for those against slavery. Thus had the slavocracy rocked the cradle of liberty.

By evening the news that Anthony Burns had escaped from the South only to be captured in the free North moved from town to town and newspaper to newspaper across the country.

KIDNAPPING AGAIN! read the first leaflet out of Boston that told the tale:

A man was stolen Last Night
By the Fugitive Slave Bill Commissioner
He will have His
MOCK
TRIAL
On Saturday, May 27, in the Kidnapper's Court
Before the Honorable Slave Bill Commissioner
At the Court House in Court Square
SHALL BOSTON STEAL ANOTHER MAN?

Thursday, May 25, 1854

Written by Reverend Parker, the leaflet was printed by the antislavery press and carried across Massachusetts by volunteers who worked on trains, stagecoaches, and trucks. As it was being distributed
, Theodore Parker had time to fire off another leaflet:

SEE TO IT THAT NO FREE CITIZEN OF MASSACHUSETTS
IS DRAGGED INTO SLAVERY

Overnight, without his ever knowing it, Anthony Burns became a symbol of freedom. But high up in the Court House he was a tired, miserable prisoner, alone save for his guard of petty criminals.

Anthony felt he had no one to turn to. He had no way of knowing that all through the night men watched the three massive doors of his granite prison Court House. It was a different time from 1851, when Thomas Sims was taken. The watchers made certain the authorities knew of their presence. Their message was clear: Anthony Burns was cared for.