The Compromise of 1850 was but the latest in a string of political measures designed to keep North and South in an uneasy state of peace and union—and President Fillmore had gone along with it. Though war was averted for the time being, like many compromises it left all sides feeling cheated. The most controversial element of the compromise was the infamous Fugitive Slave Act. Adding to the terms of an earlier act passed in 1793, the 1850 law denied fugitives the right to trial by jury or to testify on their own behalf.  It also imposed stiff penalties on those who refused to enforce the law or who aided fugitives in their efforts to escape.

In Fillmore’s hometown, the law was debated with great passion.  On one hand, the Revered John Lord of the influential First Presbyterian Church had dismissed the cruelty of the law by arguing that the alternative of civil war would be a tragedy of Biblical proportion that could wipe out civilization as they knew it. He also added that, “The forms of freedom are of little consequence to him who is made by color and caste a ‘hewer of wood and a drawer of water.’”  These were sentiments shared by many in the city. Some just wanted the issue to go away and for the country to keep growing. 

    Others, however, were outraged by the law. Led by the irascible and provocative editor of the Buffalo Morning Express, Almon Clapp, the anti-slavery forces vented their deep frustration at the turn of events created by the Compromise of 1850.   While stating that all laws of the country should be obeyed, the Express added in reference to the act’s stipulation requiring northerners to help in the apprehension of slaves that, “it forms no part of these compromises that a free citizen of a free state should become a kidnapper, a bloodhound, tracking the footsteps of the hapless negro, as he seeks to escape from servitude to freedom.” Many even urged armed resistance to the law. The Express published a petition drawn up by the “colored citizens of the city” who vowed, “That we are determined to resist as far as lies in our power every attempt to enforce . . . the most corrupt, tyrannical and unjust law which ever disgraced the code of any nation, civilized or savage.” 

Less than a year after the passage of the Compromise of 1850, an incident along the Buffalo waterfront would test the resolve of all concerned with these issues of freedom and slavery, laws and justice, peace and war.  It would also be Buffalo’s first test of the new Fugitive Slave Law.

On an August day in 1851, the steamer Buckeye State first appeared as a black dot off in the distance on Lake Erie, becoming more distinct as it approached the port of Buffalo through the hazy summer air. People with business connected with the steamer had begun to mill about the wharf, including one Benjamin Rust, up from Louisville, KY. Rust was a tall, intense man, whose impatience might very well have compelled him to stroll up the dock past the grain elevators that lined the harbor to gaze out upon the lake to see if the Buckeye State was approaching. He was in Buffalo on serious business, and he hoped that the job at hand would go down as smoothly as possible. With him at the wharf was George B. Gates, a deputy U.S. Marshal, along with two officers and some others. They had with them a warrant for the arrest of a fugitive slave named Daniel, who was known to be employed as a cook aboard the steamer.

With the Buckeye State docked at the wharf at the foot of Commercial Street, Rust and his party boarded the vessel.  Contemporary accounts differ in their details, but the Buffalo Morning Express reported that while Gates went below deck, where Daniel was said to be preparing the crew’s meal, Rust went over to a pile of wood and picked up a club-sized billet. He then positioned himself at the entrance to the hatchway that led down to the kitchen with the club raised above his head. Approaching the head cook below decks, Gates informed him that the man named Daniel working for him would have to go up on deck. The cook refused, shaking his head and insisting that he had to get dinner ready. The deputy marshal persisted, whereupon the cook told Daniel he had better go. Confused and scared, Daniel turned and began to climb the straight ladder onto the main deck. The second that Daniel’s head appeared through the hatchway, witnesses recalled that Rust swung with all his might, bashing the fugitive behind the ear and sending him falling back down the ladder. If the blow to the head were not bad enough, his face was burned as he landed against the hot stove. One crewman who witnessed the attack believed that he was dead.

In the meantime, blacks and whites alike crowded outside Spaulding’s Exchange in response to the disturbance, many demanding Daniel’s release. The nature of Buffalo’s waterfront area allowed for the easy gathering of people of all social classes. The so-called “Infested District” was right next to the respectable business district, and Spaulding’s Exchange was always crowded with people doing their shopping or visiting the business offices. Also drawn to the excitement were roughnecks, businessmen, professionals and workers. Abolitionists formed one faction while a pro-slavery group also gathered, though most of the crowd simply came to see what all the commotion was about. It was soon obvious to all that the Exchange was the wrong place to deal with a mob. So authorities decided to move the case to the courthouse.

Mayor James Wadsworth—whose cousin would later command a division in the Army of the Potomac—personally supervised the transfer of the prisoner. This was no easy task. While some blacks attempted to slow the carriage by grabbing at the wheels, others surged forward and tried to wrestle the doors open. Fights broke out in the crowd, people were clubbed down on both sides and brickbats sailed through the air indiscriminately striking those standing in the area of action. While this mini-drama was taking place, the legal forces interested in gaining Daniel his freedom were moving to ensure that they had a voice in the proceedings. Upon hearing of the arrest, John Talcott, one of the top lawyers in Buffalo, immediately set out for Spaulding’s Exchange. He was met there by Seth Hawley of the Morning Express who had likewise set out to aid in the release of the alleged slave. The two had arrived as Daniel was being transferred, so they stopped at Talcott’s office at 164 1/2 Main Street to retrieve a law book before heading to the courthouse. Here they pushed their way through the crowd to announce that they would act as council for the beaten and burned defendant. 

Talcott demanded to know on what grounds the man was being sent into slavery. Commissioner Smith answered that the runaway had been detained under the provisions of the new Fugitive Slave Law that Milliard Fillmore had signed into law less than a year before. Studying the affidavit issued by the Kentucky court, Talcott immediately seized upon a perceived defect in the document and argued that the entire case was null and void. In what must have been an embarrassing moment for both the commissioner, who had been appointed by President Fillmore, and the prosecuting attorney, who was a partner in Fillmore’s former law firm, Talcott cited an 1842 case in which he and then-practicing attorney Fillmore had argued on opposite sides. Fillmore had successfully contended that a court seal had not been properly affixed to the document. The Kentucky affidavit also lacked such a seal. Perhaps this legal ploy would have been successful in a case surrounded by less passion, but Smith, the partisan commissioner, was not about to throw this case out on a technicality.

The defense then attempted to claim that the wrong man had been apprehended. To answer this charge, the commissioners confidently produced the slave owner’s 17-year-old son, who had journeyed north with Rust. As the large throng looked on with intense interest, the young southern boy took the stand and told the court that Daniel was indeed the very same slave that his father had purchased for $700 over a year earlier. He was absolutely sure, he said, because Daniel was the only slave that his father owned.

That might have ended the case then and there, except that Talcott skillfully used the testimony of the son to open up another avenue of attack on the claim of the slaveholders. With the crowd hanging on every word, the young man was asked to recount the circumstances of Davis’ purchase, labors and escape. It was discovered that following his sale to George Moore of Louisville, Daniel was hired out as a cook aboard the steamboat Anna Lexington, that traveled a route along the Ohio and Mississippi rivers. As part of this run, the Anna Lexington made numerous stops at ports in the free state of Ohio. In fact, it was during a stopover in Cincinnati that Daniel had decided to make his run to freedom. How then, Talcott asked, could Daniel be a slave if his own master had brought him into a free state? This must have made many in the crowd sit back and think. It was, in fact, the same argument that Dred Scott would attempt to use to gain his freedom later in the decade.

Talcott declared that by the actions of Mr. Moore, Daniel was as free as anyone else in that courtroom and that the Kentucky affidavit held no validity. This logic made perfect sense to many but had no impact on Commissioner Smith, who granted the claimant’s right to recover Daniel. Half the courtroom applauded, while others screamed the equivalent to bloody murder. There the case should have ended, but it did not.

Talcott needed to buy time, and so made an offer for the purchase of Daniel. As Rust saw the potential difficulty in removing his captive from the city in the face of an angry mob, it was agreed that a wire would be sent to Kentucky, asking the price that would be paid for the alleged fugitive. Talcott and Commissioner Smith appeared before the resolute crowd and explained the situation. The commissioner wanted it made clear that he was determined to execute the law come what may. “I want to say to you colored people,” quoted the Morning Express, “that I have made an order to carry off this man and there will be force to execute it, telegraph or no telegraph, and if any of you resist you will be shot down.” 

Meanwhile, Talcott used the delay wisely. While waiting for a reply from the wires leading south, another message was sent east to Auburn, NY. Judge Alfred Conkling, of the U.S. District Court, was asked to hear the case and rule on the several irregularities that had been raised. Conklin agreed and issued a writ of habeas corpus, ordering the parties to appear before him in Auburn near the end of August.

During the interregnum, the episode received national attention. Papers across the country discussed the merits of the case. The Buffalo Morning Express and the Buffalo Republic were both accused of misstating the facts of the case, but these Free-Soil papers were the only ones to print the full proceedings of the case in their pages. After the facts had been revealed in court, the brutality committed in the apprehension of Daniel went unquestioned. When a Kentucky paper printed an editorial criticizing the Morning Express’ zeal in disregarding the law, the paper retorted. “Holding that all laws of Congress are to be enforced,” the Morning Express countered, “we still hold that they are not be enforced with bludgeons and billets of wood. It was the barbarous and brutal manner of Rust in his arrest of Daniel, at which we, and all good men in our community, were shocked.” 

The callous assault on Daniel was not the final outrageous act committed by those who wished him returned to slavery. While in his jail cell awaiting Judge Conkling’s decision, he was visited by his master, George Moore, who had traveled north to retrieve him. Moore presented Daniel with a letter that he wanted him to sign. Unable to read or write, Daniel simply put his “X” on the paper, which was then released to the press. It was addressed to the “Colored Population of Buffalo,” and stated his positive desire to return to Kentucky and slavery. “I had rather go back than stay here,” the letter read. “I hope you will not interfere with my going…I was advised to run away and come to a free state or I should not have done so—the advice was bad…We are about as well in Kentucky as you are here; and some are even better. I shall advise the Kentucky boys when I get home to stay where they are.”  Then, in a dig at the whites attempting to gain his release, the letter concluded: “Abolition Brethren in Buffalo. . . I do not want you to do any more for me.”

Almon Clapp’s Buffalo Morning Express responded to the letter, saying they had “anticipated that the customary lie to the effect that the man desires to go into slavery would be forth coming in time.” The Republic called the letter an insult to the intelligence of the people of the city. In mocking fashion, the editor of that paper claimed he had gone down to the jail himself and learned from Daniel that the letter was a fraud. Both papers claimed that the letter was the work of “Compromise” politicians. “It is not surprising that he should sign it,” argued the Morning Express, “for the purpose of standing better with the man who has the right, in case he goes back to Kentucky, to flog him at any point, short of death.” The Buffalo Daily Courier, a newspaper that supported the Democrats, vigorously defended the authenticity of the letter, contending that it was Daniel himself who had pleaded to bring these sentiments forward.

In reality, the letter merely represented a side show. It was in Auburn before Judge Conkling that the real battle was being fought, and the anti-slavery forces were the ones on the attack. Perhaps with the sanction of others involved in the anti-slavery crusade, Talcott may have been attempting to try and make the Buffalo fugitive slave case much more than a contest for the release of Daniel alone. In fact, he wished Judge Conkling to rule on the constitutionally of the Fugitive Slave Law itself. What effect a ruling against the law might have had is anyone’s guess, but it would certainly have created political debate on the subject, thus keeping the issue alive before the public.

But Talcott was expecting too much of the judge if he thought he was going to go that far. In his lengthy decision, Conkling stated that the Fugitive Slaw Law, which he admitted had caused a great deal of acrimonious debate in the country, had nevertheless been passed by both houses of Congress and had been upheld in several other courts. He therefore refused to rule the law unconstitutional. 

The case at hand, however, was of a somewhat different nature. Conkling refused to consider the brutal attack on Daniel as affecting the case either way. That would have to be settled in another court. Further, he did not take up the issue of whether the man had been made free by being brought into a free state. Had he done so he no doubt would have set a major legal precedent that might have made it to the Supreme Court. What Conkling did find pertinent, however, was whether or not Daniel had escaped prior to the enactment of the Fugitive Slave Law. That he had was a point that was beyond question. Was, then, the law applicable in this case?  Conkling felt that it might be, but he was not exactly certain. “It was one of the laws of the twelve tablets of Rome,” he wrote, “that whenever there was a question between liberty and slavery, the presumption should be on the side of liberty.” Therefore, Conkling agreed to grant habeas corpus.

     When news of the decision reached Buffalo, Daniel was immediately whisked away in a carriage to the shore of the Niagara River. Speed was essential. A rumor had spread that the U.S. Marshal had in his hand a warrant for the fugitive’s arrest on another count relating to the Fugitive Slave Law.

Daniel was free, yet the court decision was far from a complete victory for the abolitionists and free-soilers. To be sure, freedom had triumphed over slavery, but the nature of the decision reflected the compromise spirit of the times. A man had been freed on a technicality, but the law that declared him a slave was still intact. Still, as the Courier noted, this ruling, if it stood, could affect nine-tenths of the fugitive slaves in the North. 

Milliard Fillmore’s reaction to this incident went unrecorded. Like Abraham Lincoln after him, he was attempting to preserve the Union above all else. Yet forces beyond his control were steadily eroding those bonds of union.