Washington wrote to David Stuart in June 1790:  “The introduction of the Quaker memorial respecting slavery was, to be sure, not only ill-timed, but occasioned a great waste of time.”

In 1793 the Fugitive Slave law was passed, whereby a runaway slave captured in a free State, must be returned to his owner.  As the new States were admitted into the Union they came in for the most part alternately free and slave States.  This was done to preserve the balance of power in Congress.

The great aggressive Abolition movement that led eventually to the Civil War, had its birth in 1831.  Fanatics like John Brown, and Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, fanned into flame the sparks that had so long-smouldered, till the helpless negro was dragged from his havens of peace and comfort.  If he felt bitterness towards the whites, what was to prevent his rising in insurrection and slaying them all?  There were plantations where 600 or 700 slaves were governed by two or three white owners.  They occupied little villages and had no care upon earth.  They had their pastimes and religious worships.  “The courtly old planter, highbred and gentle, the plantation “uncle” who copied the master’s manners; and the broad-bosomed black mammy, with vari-colored turban, spotless apron, and beaming face, the friend and helper of every living thing in cabin or mansion, formed a trio we love to remember.”  The black woman cared more for her white nursling than her own child.  This seems unnatural, but it was true; and many of us recall the times that the mistress of the house had to interfere to prevent the kitchen mother from cruelly whipping her naughty offspring.  Some relic of ancient African barbarism still lingered in their untutored minds.  We loved our colored playmates, and their sable mothers and fathers.  Many a winning story of “way down upon de ole plantation” has been truthfully told.  Will S. Hays has immortalized it in song.

A Southern writer has thus portrayed the Xmas time:  “For weeks beforehand everything was full of stir and preparation.  Holly and mistletoe and cedar were being put about the rooms of the big house to welcome home the boys and girls from school.  Secret councils were held as to the Xmas gifts to be given to everyone, white and black.  The woodpile was loaded with oak and hickory logs to make bright and warm the Christmas nights.  The negro seamstresses were busy making:  new suits for all the servants.”  The King was in the parlor counting out his money—­to pay out for gifts of the season—­and the queen was in the kitchen dealing bread and honey—­to paraphrase Mother Goose.  Into the stately plantation home, with its lofty white columns, its big rooms, and its great fireplaces, poured the sons and daughters, grandchildren, uncles and aunts, nephews and nieces.  Assembled around the groaning board, the patriarch asked the divine blessing and the twin spirits of christianity were rife in the land.  There was only a fitful sleep for the small boys and girls, who were up at peep of day, stealing:  from room to room crying “Christmas Gift!” Out on the back porches waited the negroes in grinning rows to follow the example.  All week the cabin fires burned brightly and constant was the rejoicing over their treasures, not forgetting the grand eatables and the big bowl of egg-nogg.