Charles Sumner; his complete works; Volume 2 (of 20) by Charles Sumner
Charles Sumner; his complete works; Volume 2 (of 20) by Charles Sumner
These preliminary remarks prepare the way for the subject to which I invite attention. Here I am naturally led to touch upon the origin of slavery, and the principles which lie at its foundation, before proceeding to exhibit the efforts for its abolition, and their final success in the Barbary States.
The word Slave, suggesting now so much of human abasement, has an origin which speaks of human grandeur. Its parent term, Slava, signifying glory, in the Slavonian dialect, where it first appears, was proudly assumed as the national designation of races in the northeastern part of the European continent, who, in the vicissitudes of war, were afterwards degraded from the condition of conquerors to that of servitude. The Slavonian bondman, retaining his national name, was known as Slave; and this term, passing from a race to a class, was afterwards applied, in the languages of modern Europe, to all in his unhappy lot, without distinction of country or color.[8] It would be difficult to mention any word which has played such opposite parts in history,-beneath the garb of servitude concealing its early robe of pride. And yet, startling as it seems, this word may be received in its primitive character, by those among us who consider slavery essential to democratic institutions, and therefore part of the true glory of the country. Lexicography, going beyond this historical illustration, announces that "most probably the original meaning was independent, free,"[9] thus making the slave distinctively the freeman. In the revolutions of society, and among the compensations of Providence for long-continued degradation, the slave might yet regain this original ascendency, if, in an era of justice, the highest condition were not where all are equal in rights.
SLAVERY IN ANTIQUITY.
Slavery was universally recognized by the nations of antiquity. It is said by Pliny, in bold phrase, that the Laced?monians "invented slavery."[10] If this were so, the glory of Lycurgus and Leonidas would not compensate for such a blot. It is true that they recognized it, and gave it a shape of peculiar hardship. But slavery is older than Sparta. It existed in the tents of Abraham; for the three hundred and eighteen servants born to him were slaves. We behold it in the story of Joseph, who was sold by his brothers to the Midianites for twenty pieces of silver.[11] We find it in the poetry of Homer, who stamps it with a reprobation which even the Christian Cowper has hardly surpassed, when he says,-
"Jove fixed it certain that whatever day
Makes man a slave takes half his worth away."[12]
In later days it prevailed extensively in Greece, whose haughty people deemed themselves justified in enslaving all who were strangers to their manners and institutions. "It is right for Greeks to rule barbarians," was the sentiment of Euripides, one of the first of her poets, echoed by Aristotle, the greatest of her intellects.[13] And even Plato, in his imaginary Republic, the Utopia of his beautiful genius, sanctions slavery. But notwithstanding these high names, we learn from Aristotle himself that there were persons in his day-pestilent Abolitionists of ancient Athens-who did not hesitate to maintain that liberty was the great law of Nature, and to deny any difference between master and slave,-declaring at the same time that slavery was founded upon violence, and not upon right, and that the authority of the master was unnatural and unjust.[14] "God sent forth all persons free; Nature has made no man a slave,"[15] was the protest of one of these agitating Athenians against this great wrong. I am not in any way authorized to speak for any Anti-Slavery Society, even if this were the proper occasion; but I presume that this ancient Greek morality embodies substantially the principles maintained at their public meetings,-so far, at least, as they relate to slavery.
It is true, most true, that slavery stands on force and not on right. It is a hideous result of war, or of that barbarism in which savage war plays its conspicuous part. To the victor belonged the lives of his captives, and, by consequence, he might bind them in perpetual servitude. This principle, which has been the foundation of slavery in all ages, is adapted only to the rudest conditions of society, and is wholly inconsistent with a period of refinement, humanity, and justice. It is sad to confess that it was recognized by Greece; but the civilization of this famed land, though brilliant to the external view as the immortal sculptures of the Parthenon, was, like that stately temple, dark and cheerless within.
Slavery extended, with new rigors, under the military dominion of Rome. The spirit of freedom which animated the Republic was of that selfish and intolerant character which accumulated privileges upon the Roman citizen, while it heeded little the rights of others. But, unlike the Greeks, the Romans admitted in theory that all men are originally free by the Law of Nature; and they ascribed the power of masters over slaves, not to any alleged diversities in the races of men, but to the will of society.[16] The constant triumphs of their arms were signalized by reducing to servitude large bodies of subjugated people. Paulus ?milius returned from Macedonia with an uncounted train of slaves, composed of persons in every sphere of life; and the camp of Lucullus in Pontus witnessed the sale of slaves for four drachm?, or seventy-five cents, a head.
Terence and Ph?drus, Roman slaves, teach us that genius is not always quenched even by degrading bondage; while the writings of Cato the Censor, one of the most virtuous slave-masters in history, show the hardening influence of a system which treats human beings as cattle. "Let the husbandman," says Cato, "sell his old oxen, his sickly cattle, his sickly sheep, his wool, his hides, his old wagon, his old implements, his old slave, and his diseased slave; and if there is anything else not wanted, let him sell it. He should be seller, rather than buyer."[17]
The cruelty and inhumanity which flourished in the Republic professing freedom enjoyed a natural home under Emperors who were the high-priests of despotism. Wealth increased, and with it the multitude of slaves. Some masters are said to have owned as many as ten thousand, while extravagant prices were often paid for them, according to fancy or caprice. Martial mentions handsome boys sold for as much as two hundred thousand sesterces each, or more than eight thousand dollars.[18] On the assassination of Pedanius Secundus by one of his slaves, no less than four hundred were put to death,-an orator in the Senate arguing that these hecatombs were in accordance with ancient custom.[19]
It is easy to believe that slavery, which prevailed so largely in Greece and Rome, must have existed in Africa. Here, indeed, it found a peculiar home. If we trace the progress of this unfortunate continent from those distant days of fable when Jupiter did not
"disdain to grace
The feasts of ?thiopia's blameless race,"[20]
the merchandise in slaves will be found to have contributed to the abolition of two hateful customs, once universal in Africa,-the eating of captives, and their sacrifice to idols. Thus, in the march of civilization, even the barbarism of slavery is an important stage of Human Progress. It is a point in the ascending scale from cannibalism.
SLAVERY IN MODERN TIMES.
In the early periods of modern Europe slavery was a general custom, which yielded only gradually to the humane influences of Christianity. It prevailed in all the countries of which we have any records. Fair-haired Saxon slaves from distant England arrested the attention of Pope Gregory in the markets of Rome, and were by him hailed as Angels. A law of so virtuous a king as Alfred ranks slaves with horses and oxen; and the Chronicles of William of Malmesbury show that in our mother country there was once a cruel slave-trade in whites. As we listen to this story, we shall be grateful again to that civilization which renders such outrage more and more impossible. "Directly opposite to the Irish coast," he says, "there is a seaport called Bristol, the inhabitants of which frequently sent into Ireland to sell those people whom they had bought up throughout England. They exposed to sale girls in a state of pregnancy, with whom they made a sort of mock marriage. There you might see with grief, fastened together by ropes, whole rows of wretched beings of both sexes, of elegant forms, and in the very bloom of youth,-a sight sufficient to excite pity even in barbarians,-daily offered for sale to the first purchaser. Accursed deed! infamous disgrace! that men, acting in a manner which brute instinct alone would have forbidden, should sell into slavery their relations, nay, even their own offspring!"[21] From still another chronicler we learn, that, in 1172, when Ireland was afflicted with public calamities, there was a great assembly of the principal men, chiefly of the clergy, who concluded, as well they might, that these evils were sent upon their country for the reason that they had formerly purchased English boys as slaves, contrary to the right of Christian liberty,-the poor English, to supply their wants, being "accustomed to sell even their own children, not to bring them up": wherefore, it is said, the English slaves were allowed to depart in freedom.[22] Earlier in Irish history a boy was stolen from Scotland, who, after six years of bondage, succeeded in reaching his home, when, entering the Church, he returned to Ireland, preached Christianity, and, as St. Patrick, became the patron saint of that beautiful land.[23]
On the Continent of Europe, as late as the thirteenth century, the custom prevailed of treating all captives in war as slaves. Here poetry, as well as history, bears its testimony. Old Michael Drayton, in his story of the Battle of Agincourt, says of the French:-
"For knots of cord to every town they send,
The captived English that they caught to bind;
For to perpetual slavery they intend
Those that alive they on the field should find."[24]
And Othello, in recounting his perils, exposes this custom, when he speaks
"Of being taken by the insolent foe
And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence."
It was also held lawful to enslave an infidel, or person who did not receive the Christian faith. The early Common Law of England doomed heretics to the stake; the Catholic Inquisition did the same; and the laws of Oléron, the maritime code of the Middle Ages, treated them "as dogs," to be attacked and despoiled by all true believers. Philip le Bel of France, grandson of St. Louis, in 1296 presented his brother Charles, Count of Valois, with a Jew, and paid three hundred livres for another Jew,-as if Jews were at the time chattels, to be given away or bought.[25] The statutes of Florence, boastful of freedom, as late as 1415 allowed republican citizens to hold slaves not of the Catholic Christian faith,-Qui non sunt Catholic? fidei et Christian?.[26] Besides captive Moors, there were African slaves in Spain, before Christopher Columbus; and at Venice Marco Polo for some time held a slave he had brought from the Orient in the age of Dante. The comedies of Molière, L'étourdi and Le Sicilien, depicting Italian usages not remote from his day, show that at Messina even Christian women continued to be sold as slaves.
This rapid sketch, which brings us down to the period when Algiers became a terror to the Christian nations, renders it no longer astonishing that the barbarous States of Barbary-a part of Africa, the great womb of slavery, professing Mahometanism, which not only recognizes slavery, but expressly ordains "chains and collars" to infidels[27]-should maintain the traffic in slaves, particularly in Christians, denying the faith of the Prophet. In the duty of constant war upon unbelievers, and in the assertion of right to the service or ransom of their captives, they followed the lessons of Christians themselves.
It is not difficult, then, to account for the origin of this cruel custom. Its history forms our next topic.
Eliana reunited with her family, now ruined by fate: Dad jailed, Mom deathly ill, six crushed brothers, and a fake daughter who'd fled for richer prey. Everyone sneered. But at her command, Eliana summoned the Onyx Syndicate. Bars opened, sickness vanished, and her brothers rose-one walking again, others soaring in business, tech, and art. When society mocked the "country girl," she unmasked herself: miracle doctor, famed painter, genius hacker, shadow queen. A powerful tycoon held her close. "Country girl? She's my fiancée!" Eliana glared at him. "Dream on." Resolutely, he vowed never to let go.
Abandoned as a child and orphaned by murder, Kathryn swore she'd reclaim every shred of her stolen birthright. When she returned, society called her an unpolished love-child, scoffing that Evan had lost his mind to marry her. Only Evan knew the truth: the quiet woman he cradled like porcelain hid secrets enough to set the city trembling. She doubled as a legendary healer, an elusive hacker, and the royal court's favorite perfumer. At meetings, the directors groaned at the lovey-dovey couple, "Does she really have to be here?" Evan shrugged. "Happy wife, happy life." Soon her masks fell, and those who sneered bowed in awe.
My stepmother sold me like a piece of inventory to a man known for breaking people just to plug the financial crater my father left behind. I was delivered to the Morton estate in the middle of a freezing storm, stripped of my phone, and told that if I didn't make myself useful, my senile grandfather would be evicted from his care facility by noon. The master of the house, Adonis Morton IV, was a monster living in a silent mausoleum, driven to the brink of madness by a sensory condition that turned every sound into a physical assault. When I was forced into his suite to serve him, he didn't see a human being; he saw a source of agony. In a fit of animalistic rage, he pinned me to the wall and nearly strangled me to death just for the sound of a shattering teacup. I only survived by using my grandfather’s secret herbal blends and pressure-point therapy to force his overactive nervous system into a drugged sleep. But saving him was my greatest mistake. Instead of letting me go, Adonis moved me into a guest suite connected to his own bedroom by a hidden door. He didn't just want me as a servant; he needed me as a human white-noise machine to drown out the demons in his head. The nightmare deepened when he took the promissory note that defined my freedom and tore it into confetti. By destroying the debt, he destroyed my exit strategy. He replaced my maid’s uniform with a silver silk dress that clung to my skin but did nothing to hide the dark, ugly bruises his fingers had left on my neck. He branded me as his "primary care associate," a title that was nothing more than a gilded cage. I felt a sickening sense of injustice as he forced me to sign a contract that banned me from contacting other men and required me to sleep wherever he slept. He looked at me with a possessive heat, calling me his "medication" rather than a woman. My family had sold my body, but Adonis Morton was intent on owning my very presence, using my grandfather’s medical bills as a leash to keep me within twenty feet of him at all times. Standing in a neglected greenhouse with mud staining my expensive silk, I realized I was no longer a victim waiting for rescue. If I was going to be his medication, I would learn how to be his cure—or his undoing. I began clearing the weeds with a cold, calculated frenzy, determined to turn this prison into my laboratory. He thinks he has trapped a helpless girl, but I am going to pry open the cracks in his stone walls until his entire world comes crashing down.
The roasted lamb was cold, a reflection of her marriage. On their third anniversary, Evelyn Vance waited alone in her Manhattan penthouse. Then her phone buzzed: Alexander, her husband, had been spotted leaving the hospital, holding his childhood sweetheart Scarlett Sharp's hand. Alexander arrived hours later, dismissing Evelyn's quiet complaint with a cold reminder: she was Mrs. Vance, not a victim. Her mother's demands reinforced this role, making Evelyn, a brilliant mind, feel like a ghost. A dangerous indifference replaced betrayal. The debt was paid; now, it was her turn. She drafted a divorce settlement, waiving everything. As Alexander's tender voice drifted from his study, speaking to Scarlett, Evelyn placed her wedding ring on his pillow, moved to the guest suite, and locked the door. The dull wife was gone; the Oracle was back.
The day Raina gave birth should have been the happiest of her life. Instead, it became her worst nightmare. Moments after delivering their twins, Alexander shattered her heart-divorcing her and forcing her to sign away custody of their son, Liam. With nothing but betrayal and heartbreak to her name, Raina disappeared, raising their daughter, Ava, on her own.Years later, fate comes knocking when Liam falls gravely ill. Desperate to save his son, Alexander is forced to seek out the one person he once cast aside. Alexander finds himself face to face with the woman he underestimated, pleading for a second chance-not just for himself, but for their son. But Raina is no longer the same broken woman who once loved him.No longer the woman he left behind. She has carved out a new life-one built on strength, wealth, and a long-buried legacy she expected to uncover.Raina has spent years learning to live without him.The question is... Will she risk reopening old wounds to save the son she never got to love? or has Alexander lost her forever?
I lived as the "scarred ghost" of the Stephens penthouse, a wife kept in the shadows because my facial burns offended my billionaire husband’s aesthetic. For years, I endured Kason’s coldness and my family's abuse, a submissive puppet who believed she had nowhere else to go. The end came with a blue folder tossed onto my silk sheets. Kason’s mistress was back, and he wanted me out by sunset, offering a five-million-dollar "silence fee" to go hide my face in the countryside. The betrayal cut deep when I discovered my father had already traded my divorce for a corporate bailout. My step-sister mocked my "trashy" appearance at a high-end boutique, while the sales staff treated me like a common thief. At home, my father threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving medicine unless I crawled back to Kason to beg for a better deal. I was the girl who took the blame for a fire she didn't start, the wife who worshipped a man who never looked her in the eye, and the daughter used as a human bargaining chip. I was supposed to be broken, penniless, and desperate. But the woman who stood up wasn't the weak Elease Finch anymore; she was Phoenix, a tactical predator with a $500 million secret. I signed the divorce papers without a single tear, walked past my stunned husband, and wiped the Finch family's bank accounts clean with a few taps on my phone. "Your money is dirty," I told Kason with a cold smile. "I prefer clean hands." The cage is open, the hunt has begun, and I’m starting with the people who thought a scar made me weak.
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