It is singular to observe how entirely these rules seem to concede that a slave’s life has no sort of value to himself, but only to his master.  His master, not he himself, must choose whether it be worth while to employ counsel.  His master, not his mother or his wife, must be present at the trial.  So far is this carried, that the provision to exclude “persons who had no particular interest in the slaves accused” seems to have excluded every acknowledged relative they had in the world, and admitted only those who had invested in them so many dollars.  And yet the very first section of that part of the statute under which they were tried lays down an explicit recognition of their humanity.  “And whereas natural justice forbids that any person, of what condition soever, should be condemned unheard.”  So thoroughly, in the whole report, are the ideas of person and chattel intermingled, that, when Governor Bennett petitions for mitigation of sentence in the case of his slave Batteau, and closes, “I ask this, gentlemen, as an individual incurring a severe and distressing loss,” it is really impossible to decide whether the predominant emotion be affectional or financial.

It is a matter of painful necessity to acknowledge that the proceedings of all slave-tribunals justify the honest admission of Governor Adams of South Carolina, in his legislative message of 1855:—­“The administration of our laws, in relation to our colored population, by our courts of magistrates and freeholders, as these courts are at present constituted, calls loudly for reform.  Their decisions are rarely in conformity with justice or humanity.”  This trial, as reported by the justices themselves, seems to have been no worse than the average,—­perhaps better.  In all, thirty-five were sentenced to death, thirty-four to transportation, twenty-seven acquitted by the Court, and twenty-five discharged without trial, by the Committee of Vigilance, making in all one hundred and twenty-one.

The sentences pronounced by Judge Kennedy upon the leading rebels, while paying a high tribute to their previous character, of course bring all law and all Scripture to prove the magnitude of their crime.  “It is a melancholy fact,” he says, “that those servants in whom we reposed the most unlimited confidence have been the principal actors in this wicked scheme.”  Then he rises into earnest appeals.  “Are you incapable of the heavenly influence of that gospel all whose paths are peace?  It was to reconcile us to our destiny on earth, and to enable us to discharge with fidelity all our duties, whether as master or servant, that those inspired precepts were imparted by Heaven to fallen man.”  And so on.