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Actually, it was a righteous rebellion, not a mere "riot." |
Given the rarity of the surname, it is likely that Supreme
Court nominee Neil Gorsuch is related to deputy federal marshal Edward
Gorsuch, who was killed an in violent episode that left the nation
shocked and terrified, and was an overture to a
long and bloody military conflict.
Deputy Marshal Gorsuch was 57 years old at the time he
received his commission, and was killed on the
second day of his service. The US Marshals Service deputized him on September
10, 1851 to enforce a warrant issued under the Fugitive
Slave Law to recover two human beings Gorsuch claimed as his property.
He and Marshal Henry H. Kline, along with several other deputies, had the “law”
on their side when they traveled to Christiana,
Pennsylvania, bearing a warrant that authorized them to
abduct four men who had freed themselves – and to conscript any white citizen
they encountered to serve as accomplices in that act.
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William Parker |
Late in the evening of September 10, the kidnappers, who
included at least two of Gorsuch’s sons, surrounded a two-story fieldstone home
owned by William
Parker, a 29-year-old farmer and militia organizer who had escaped
from slavery nine years earlier. Operatives of the Underground Railroad had
warned Parker of the impending raid.
Gorsuch imperiously demanded the surrender of his former
captives. When no answer came from inside the home, the marshals invaded the
domicile – and were promptly driven out by the occupants, one of whom wielded a
pitchfork.
Standing in the front yard of the home, the marshals read
the warrants to Parker, who looked down on them contemptuously from a
second-floor window.
“I don’t care about your warrant, your demands, or your
government,” Parker replied. “You can burn us, but you can’t take us. Before I
give up, you will see my ashes scattered on the earth.”
“I want my property, and I shall have it,” bellowed Gorsuch,
pretending as if words scribbled by a functionary on a piece of paper gave him
title of ownership over other human beings. Realizing that such a claim would
avail nothing with Parker, Gorsuch appealed to biblical passages enjoining
servants to obey their masters.
Parker, who apparently knew the Bible better than Gorsuch,
replied by citing New
Testament verses teaching the equality of all
human beings before God.
“Where do you see it in Scripture that a man should traffic
in his brother’s blood?” Parker demanded of the deputy marshal.
“Do you call a n*gger my brother?” Gorsuch exclaimed.
“Yes, I do,” Parker defiantly replied.
The situation congealed into a standoff that lasted until
daybreak. Shortly after dawn, Parker’s wife used a horn to summon help from
Parker’s militia, who arrived bearing whatever weapons they could muster. The
alarm also brought two local Quakers named Elijah Lewis, a shopkeeper, and Castner
Hanway, a local miller. Both of these white men were well-known
for their sympathies toward escaped slaves.
Relieved by the arrival of two white men, Marshal Kline
waved his warrant in their face and told them that they were required to assist
in the recovery of Gorsuch’s “property.” Once again, this demand was in harmony
with what the federal government called the “law” – and when Lewis and Hanway
replied that they would have no part in an abduction they were told that they
were committing a federal “crime.”
Surrounded, outnumbered, hungry, and humiliated, Deputy
Marshal Gorsuch lost what remained of his composure.
“I have come a long way and I want my breakfast,” he snarled
at Parker. “I’ll have my property, or I’ll breakfast in hell.”
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Dickinson Gorsuch |
“Go back to Maryland, old man,” one of the black militiamen
taunted Gorsuch.
“Father, will you take all this from a n*gger?” asked his twenty-year-old
son, Dickinson, who was part of the posse.
Parker snapped at Dickinson to keep a civil tongue, or he’d
knock his teeth down his throat. Dickinson’s reply to Parker was issued by way
of his revolver, inspiring a rejoinder delivered from a shotgun wielded by one
of Parker’s associates. Dickinson fell, but he would survive.
The posse opened
fire on the home, but was very quickly swarmed by the militia. Gorsuch’s other
son, Joshua, was beaten bloody, but escaped, along with the rest of their raiding
party-- save one. The Deputy Marshal himself proved to be the only fatality.
It’s quite likely that several of Gorsuch’s accomplices in
the attempted abduction would also have been killed, if not for the
intervention of Lewis and Hanway, the two abolitionists they had threatened
with arrest. Adamantly opposed to slavery but determined to save lives where
possible, the two Quarters, at some substantial personal risk, dragged several
wounded men to safety.
Within hours, tidings of the “Christiana
Riot”
had been dispatched throughout the country by way of telegraph, and a
militarized task force composed of constables, federal marshals, and U.S.
marines was deployed to comb the countryside in search of alleged
co-conspirators.
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"Tragedy at Christiana": Yes, it was called a "tragedy." |
“They spread out across the autumn countryside, forcing
their way into the homes of blacks and whites alike, threatening anyone who was
thought to have anything to do with the Underground Railroad, arresting scores
of men on suspicion, with little concern for constitutional niceties,” recalls
Fergus M. Bordewich in his book Bound
for Canaan. “As one eyewitness put it, `blacks were hunted like
partridges.’”
Parker, knowing that he and his friends faced summary
execution if the joint federal-state task force found them, gathered the
fugitive slaves in his protection and took them, by way of the underground, to
Rochester, New York, and he eventually emigrated to Canada.
In the U.S., where the Fugitive Slave Act had effectively
nationalized the practice of chattel slavery, Parker was wanted for murder and
“treason” for defending the right to self-ownership. In Canada, he and other
black refugees could vote, own property, and enjoy due process protections on equal
terms with Canadians of any other ethnic background.
Acting on the assumption that the blacks who repelled
Gorsuch and his posse at Christiana were acting under the pernicious influence
of white seditionists, the administration of Millard Fillmore arranged the
indictment of 38 people for “levying war against the United States.”
This would have been the largest treason
trial in American history, and the prosecution intended that it
would put down the growing rebellion against the Fugitive Slave Law.
Resistance to that act was widespread in the northern
states, several of which enacted “personal
liberty laws” that nullified enforcement of the federal
measure within their respective jurisdictions. This development prompted
southern defenders of slavery – who just a few years later would invoke the
heritage of 1776 to justify secession – to condemn as traitors those who
undermined the sacred and imperishable Union. They had an ally in arch-unionist
Massachusetts Senator Daniel Webster.
“If men get together and combine, and resolve that they will
oppose a law of the government, not in any one case, but in all cases; if they
resolve to resist the law, whoever may be attempted to be made subject of it,
and carry that purpose into effect, by refusing the application of the law in
any one case, either by force of arms or force of numbers – that, sir, is
treason,” bloviated Webster in a speech shortly before the trial.
The indictment against the Christiana defendants asserted
that they “did traitorously assemble and combine against the United States” for
the purpose of preventing “by means of intimidation and violence the execution
of the said laws of the United States.”
In December 1851, Hanway became the first to stand trial. His
role in the events at Christiana was peripheral, but “the federal government
felt that it had to convict a white man to avenge Gorsuch’s death in the eyes
of Southerners,” explains Bordewich. That ambition was thwarted when the jury
took all of fifteen minutes to acquit the pacifistic miller of all charges. The
Fillmore administration made a desultory effort to prosecute other defendants
during its final year.
After Franklin Pierce assumed office in March 1853, he
dismissed the case – but not the effort to enforce the Fugitive Slave Law. In
1854, Pierce deployed 1,600 troops to Boston in order to take into custody a
man named Anthony Burns, who had escaped bondage in Virginia. Local abolitionists
had liberated Burns from the custody of Deputy US Marshal James Batchelder, who
was killed in the line of duty by citizens acting in the righteous defense of
the life of an innocent man.
The names of both James Batchelder and Edward Gorsuch are inscribed on the
honor (if that word applies) roll of US law enforcement officers killed in the
line of duty. On September 11, 2015,
Gorsuch received a heartfelt tribute from a fellow law enforcement officer.
“Sir, on today[,] the 164th anniversary of your
death[,] I would just like to say thank you for your service and sacrifice to
our Country,” wrote an anonymous member of the US Border Patrol in the
“reflections” section of the Officer Down Memorial Page, which is devoted to
“Remembering All of Law Enforcement’s Heroes.”
All law enforcement
officers, we are insistently told, are “heroes,” even when enforcing government
edicts that are morally unsupportable. Members of that fraternity of state-licensed
violence regard the detestable likes of Batchelder and Gorsuch as their kin, as well they should.
This week's Freedom Zealot Podcast also examines the Christiana Rebellion:
Be sure to visit the Libertarian Institute.
Dum spiro, pugno!