A Government of Men Episode 11: Georgetown and the Nullification Crisis

EDITOR’S NOTE: This article may include historical materials that could contain offensive language or negative stereotypes. Such materials must be viewed in the context of the relevant time period. The Georgetown Times does not endorse the views expressed in such materials.


By Tom Rubillo

The first crack in the foundation of the new United States was a political sink hole called “nullification.” A hotheaded slave owner from North Santee named James Hamilton was responsible. The new nation nearly collapsed in the abyss.

Nullification, as advocated by Hamilton and his followers, was based on the notion that individual states were more important than the larger nation of which were a part. The States, they argued, were sovereign over the federal government. That superiority gave each State the right to veto, void or nullify any federal action that State found disagreeable. The federal law then did not apply in that State. It would remain in effect only in others places that did not declare it to be void. The result: Federal law would become a patchwork, not a uniform system of laws throughout the nation.

Nullifiers like Hamilton never agreed between themselves whether the veto had to be the result of a state-wide referendum of all voters, had to come from a state-wide convention of elected delegates, or action by the state’s legislature or governor. Each position was advocated. South Carolina chose the convention method, but it was boycotted by many “Unionists” who opposed Hamilton’s divisive philosophy.

Although initially raised in the context of federal import tariffs in 1830, the philosophy offered no limits to this State power to veto federal action. Everything was potentially involved. Today, things like voting eligibility, civil rights, the income tax, Social Security, Medicare and Medicaid, air and water quality standards, federal work rules protecting everyone from miners to minors, transportation safety standards, to name just a few subjects, could be subject to the right of each State to declare Congressional actions void in that State.

At the core of this theory of State supremacy was the belief that people had (or owed) primary allegiance to the government of the State in which they lived. Loyalty to the United States as a nation and the people living elsewhere in America was said to be secondary to main devotion to places of residence.

The logic or reason for this paramount regional patriotism is unclear. It is no more logical than choosing, for example, loyalty to a county, or town, or neighborhood, or employer, or clan, or street or motorcycle gang over devotion to the United States of America. But it has a very negative effect. It fragments the nation, “Balkanizing” it like happened in recent history when, because of ancient regional loyalties, Yugoslavia broke apart into Bosnia, Serbia, Montenegro and Herzegovina. Social disintegration followed, violence and crimes against humanity included.

The notion of nullification has arisen in many places and in many different contexts. Generally speaking, it has a very dishonorable history. When, for example, law enforcement officers close their eyes to crimes of fellow police, they effectively nullify the law. When a judge exercises what is called “judicial discretion” in a way that favors friends or punishes enemies rather than apply the law evenhandedly, the law is nullified. Similarly, when a “runaway jury” refuses to apply the law as properly instructed, they nullify it. When government officials steer lucrative contracts to cronies or accept gratuities in exchange for them, they nullify laws mandating competitive bidding. Or when government electees, appointees or employees let personal friendships or animosity influence official decisions, the law becomes pointless. In these contexts (and in many others), nullification nourishes systems of government run by good-ole-boys-and-girls. It is the manna of a government of men, not of law.

The rule of law serves as the bedrock on which a free and fair society is built. It is a secular guide, helping people make acceptable choices over those acts or methods which their society deems unacceptable. Followed by people and applied equally by public officials, the law promotes social peace. Legislatures decide right from wrong (in the secular sense.) Courts provide a forum for the peaceful resolution of disputes. The Executive Branch is supposed to ensure faithful performance of the laws. When anyone of those branches of government “nullifies,” faith in the rule of law breaks down. Disintegration of the social order follows. “No justice, no peace” is how the same idea has been expressed on a provocative bumper sticker.

With Hamilton and his friends, their ideology nullified the primary reason to have a larger nation called the United States of America in the first place. As the preamble of the Constitution expressly says, its purposes are to [1] “establish justice, [2] ensure domestic tranquility, [3] provide for the common defense, [4] promote the general welfare and [5] secure the blessings of liberty for ourselves and our posterity.” Uniform national laws are necessary to each of those larger goals.

Widespread application of Hamilton’s ideology would prevent anyone from relying on the existence of a written Constitution to secure “the blessings of liberty” since any or au enabling legislation — more specific laws needed to give effect to the general principles established by the Constitution — could be voided in one or more of the States. Under those circumstances, the Constitution would be as reliable as a so-called “50/50 warranty” on a used car (good for 50 years or 50 feet, whichever came first).

James Hamilton was the head of the States Rights Free Trade Association. The Association formed after import tariffs were imposed by Congress on foreign manufactured goods. Hamilton — a Georgetown rice planter whose hundreds of slaves labored to produce huge profits for him — feared two things: (1) that foreign governments would impose retaliatory tariffs on the rice he sold overseas, cutting his profits and (2) that Northern industries protected by the tariff would become more prosperous than he and his friends in the South. Greater wealth up North would mean greater Northern influence in Congress. (Money spoke the same language in Washington back then as it does today.) This, he feared, could lead to the abolition of slavery — to the end of cheap labor in the South.

It did not matter that the money collected by U.S. Customs was used to protect his exports (along with everyone else’s) from loss to piracy. It did not matter that the new nation’s standing army had thwarted British ambitions in the War of 1812 and debts from that war remained to be paid. It did not matter that efforts were afoot to construct interstate roads and canals to improve trade among everyone. Hamilton’s concern was that, through a yet unrealized chain of events (which, by the way, never came to pass) he might lose some money, or worse, dominion over the lives of the unfortunate souls who were subject to his total control.

Hamilton was so concerned about these matters that he resorted to intimidation, bullying, threats and violence to get his way. Hamilton, readers of previous episodes of this local history may recall, was an intolerant, argumentative, ill-tempered person who was quick to challenge those who disagreed with him to a duel and, because he was a very good shot, shoot them. He fought (and survived) 14 duels, many with opponents of his political ideas. He judged any disagreement about his ideas as being equivalent to a personal insult or affront, a trait often found in ideologues and demagogues of all kinds.

At a February 1, 1833 convention of fellow nullifiers, Hamilton and friends declared the proposed import tariffs void in South Carolina and threatened that any effort to enforce the tariff by federal authorities would be “... inconsistent with the longer continuance of South Carolina in the Union.”

In response to this threat to secede, President Andrew Jackson moved troops housed at Charleston’s Citadel to island forts surrounding the harbor. Jackson told Congress that nullification was “incompatible with the existence of the Union, contradicted expressly by the letter of the Constitution, unauthorized by its spirit, inconsistent with every principle on which it was founded, and destructive to the great object for which it was formed.” He stopped just short of calling it treason. At the same time, though, he conceded that proposed tariffs should be limited only “to those articles of domestic manufacture which are indispensable to our safety in time of war.”

In response. Hamilton and his compatriots proposed imposition of an ordinance barring anyone making any effort to enforce a nullified federal action from continuing to hold public office or to be elected in the future. They also plotted ways to avoid payment of the tariff, including by shifting imports from Charleston to ports in Georgetown and Beaufort.

Georgetown’s own John L. Wilson then proposed that all South Carolina voters be required to take an oath of primary allegiance to South Carolina before casting a ballot. “I declare that my allegiance is due to the said State, and hereby renounce and abjure all other allegiance incompatible therewith” is how the oath was worded. He sought amendment to the South Carolina Constitution requiring that oath in order to register at the polls.

Jackson responded that swearing an oath of allegiance to nullification was treason.

South Carolina began to arm itself. Hamilton (by this time a former Governor) supervised military preparations. A draft was initiated. 23,000 nullifiers formed the basis of Hamilton’s army. Some 8,000 “Unionists” joined a militia as part of a “posse comitatus” prepared to respond to orders from President Jackson. A 1795 law authored their formation, to act “whenever the laws of the United States shall be opposed, or the execution thereof destructed in any State.” Jackson said he would use these militiamen first, before calling out the military.

Around the same time, Congress debated a “Force Bill” creating floating customs houses on U.S. ships in each harbor to store confiscated goods on which tariffs had not been paid.

There was lots of saber rattling. Hamilton announced that if the “Force Bill” passed, he would recommend secession. He also said that he had sent half of his rice crop to Cuba and exchanged it for sugar. Sugar was subject to the tariff. He then boasted that he would import the sugar into South Carolina and refuse to pay the tariff. He said that “he knew his fellow citizens would go even to the death for him and his sugar,” This bravado earned him the nickname “Sugar Jimmy.” The Sugar was later seized from the brig Catherine in Charleston harbor. No one went to their death for it, least of all Hamilton.

Fearing the outbreak of violence and the breakdown of the Union, the Commonwealth of Virginia offered to mediate. Hamilton and friends ultimately backed down, but only after tariffs were both limited to defense-related industries and lowered by about half. Everyone saved face. The Union was saved, at least for a time.

Hamilton and his associates did not disband their organization, however. Their other, much more fundamental concern — preservation of the institution of slavery — was returning to the front burner.

The Missouri Compromise of 1830 dividing the nation into slave and free territories was beginning to break down. Thanks to Eli Whitney’s cotton gin, that crop was becoming king. Its cultivation was labor intensive. The cotton gin made it easier to process the crop for profitable sale. Slave labor produced the most profit, so planters moving west ignored the Missouri Compromise line. This caused trouble, political and otherwise.

At the same time, the institution of slavery was falling into disrepute. Upon his death, George Washington emancipated his slaves, apparently not wanting to ascend with the millstone of human bondage holding him down. Although he did not free those he held in bondage, Thomas Jefferson had publicly denounced the system. Motivated in some part by these events, in December of 1833, the American Anti-Slavery Society formed and began campaigning for abolition. In response, there was a call for a Convention of Southern States, an event reported in the Winyah Intelligencer of April 23, 1833 as “the certain forerunner of secession.” The Convention was never convened.

Then, in 1834, the British Parliament emancipated all slaves held in the West Indies. These events had a profound effect on the national psyche in the United States. “It is the abstract love of liberty — it is that and [that] the moral power of all Europe is against us — [which] the South fears” Arthur P. Hayne wrote to President Jackson (himself a slave owner) in November of 1835.

All public discussion of the subject of slavery came to an end. It was as if a gag order had been imposed. Attitudes hardened. Where, before the nullification effort, it was generally conceded that slavery violated natural rights, but was a necessary evil because it fulfilled practical needs, the argument became much more racist. Slaves were inferior people who could not fend for themselves if free, the argument became. They needed discipline and structure to curtail their inherently “savage” nature. It was, therefore, the proper role of “gentlemen” with a “stake in society” to reign over the “rabble” of the “mob.” All other views were suppressed.

In his 1964 book The Freedom-of-Thought Struggle in the Old South, historian Clement Eaton characterized events as marking “… the most thorough going repression of free thought, free speech, and free press ever witnessed in an American community.”

The South Carolina legislature enacted stricter slave codes, banning production, sale or possession of liquor by any slave without an owner’s permission. Buying cotton, wheat, rice or corn from slaves was prohibited. A $1,000 tax was placed on peddlers from the North to keep them from mingling with slaves. (Northerners were accused of stirring up trouble — of being “outside agitators.”) It became a crime to teach a slave how to read or write. A $100 fine and 6 months of imprisonment was the penalty for teaching. Fifty (50) lashes and a $50 dollar fine was imposed on a slave for learning. Religious instructions for slaves were limited to sermons, but no Scripture could be read lest slaves get the wrong idea, particularly from what Jesus had to say as reported in the New Testament.

These laws added fuel to abolitionist fires.

On July 29, 1835, the steamboat Columbia entered Charleston harbor. It carried, among other things, the U.S. Mail. Included among posted materials were thousands of anti-slavery pamphlets addressed to wealthy South Carolinians, clergy and slave holders included. They had been sent by the American Anti--Slavery Society.

Upon hearing of the mass mailing, a mob formed, broke into the Post Office, seized the pamphlets and burned them in a huge public bonfire. Abolitionists were labeled as “fanatics” and “incendiaries” in the press and during public tirades.

Rather than attempt to enforce laws protecting the U.S. Mail, President Jackson called for enactment of a new federal law forbidding the sending of anti-slavery literature to the South in the U.S. Mail. But even South Carolina’s own John C. Calhoun (a late announcing, reluctant nullificationist) opposed the measure, recognizing it as a two-edged sword. If the federal government could say what was forbidden speech in one instance, it could do it in any other. That, Calhoun rightly recognized, would be a very, very dangerous precedent. Events in Europe a century later would prove him right on that point.



Tom Rubillo used to practice law, but is now retired. He has held public office, taught government, ethics and law at area colleges and has published several books. The episodes written in connection with this project will be, at its conclusion, available in one volume, or at least that is his best laid plan.