The court case that launched Thaddeus Stevens's crusade against slavery
January 2025
By Ross Hetrick
Thaddeus Stevens was riding high in the early 1820s. He was a young up-and-coming lawyer in the prosperous town of Gettysburg. Then he took a case involving a fugitive slave that would change his life and the course of American history forever.
Born in Vermont, the first state to ban slavery in 1777, it would be expected that Stevens would be anti-slavery. Add to that, he had a club foot which would make him sympathetic to people discriminated against.
But at the same time he was brilliant and was able to work his way through the prestigious college of Dartmouth. And like many a self-made man he felt that discrimination was a necessary ingredient to spur people to become successful.
In fact, in a commencement speech at Dartmouth in 1814, Stevens praised inequality as the engine of progress. "Had they [primitive people] been content to remain in a state of equality, they must likewise have remain in a state of barbarism," he said. "For although invention and improvement are not foreign to the nature of man, yet they will never be exercised until they are called forth by new motives of pleasure and profit."
So it was not unexpected for the young Stevens to represent a Maryland slaveowner in August 1820 who was trying to recover a fugitive slave. Charity Butler had escape captivity in Maryland, married Henry Butler, a free Black in Adams county, and had two daughters Harriet and Sophia.
Years later, her former enslaver found out where she was and he kidnapped Charity and her two daughters. Her husband hired a lawyer who argued in court that Charity had been brought up to Pennsylvania many times while she was a slave totaling more than six months, the legal limit you could keep a slave in Pennsylvania before becoming free. But Stevens was able to demolish the case by simply pointing out that the six-month rule required the slave to reside in Pennsylvania for a continuous six months.
But the court victory seemingly caught Stevens by surprise. Not only was Charity sent back into bondage, but her two daughters who had never known slavery were sentence to a lifetime of captivity. "No one knows what Thaddeus Stevens experienced that day, but surely he felt the family's despair," wrote Bradley R. Hoch in his 2005 biography of Stevens, Thaddeus Stevens in Gettysburg: The Making of an Abolitionist. "He no doubt thought about the consequences of his victory for the rest of his life. He never again represented a slave owner against slave." Hoch wrote.
Not only did he stop representing slaveowner but he started vigorously representing fugitive slaves. And on July 4, 1823 he went public with his conversion to abolitionism with a toast at an Independence day celebration. "The next President -- May he be a freeman, who never riveted fetters on a human slave," he proclaimed. It was a bold statement since everyone at the event knew that all but one of the five Presidents up to that time had owned human beings.
It was only the beginning of his 40-year political struggle that would culminate in the destruction of slavery and the ratification of the 14th Amendment to the Constitution requiring the equal treatment under the law. And even death, Stevens wanted people to know where he stood. He insisted on being buried in the only integrated cemetery in Lancaster at the time and the epitaph on his monument reads: "I reposed in the quiet and secluded spot not from any natural preference for solitude, but finding other cemeteries limited as to race by charter rules, I have chosen this that I might illustrate in my death the principles I advocated through a long life: Equality of man before his creator."
Ross Hetrick is president of the Thaddeus Stevens Society, which is dedicated to promoting Stevens's important legacy. The Society operates the Thaddeus Stevens Museum at 46 Chambersburg St. in Gettysburg, PA. More information about the Great Commoner can be found at the society's website: https://www.thaddeusstevenssociety.com/