John C. Calhoun

II IliDfrsiOfPrc^

BOSTON AND NEW YORK

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

Copyright, 1882 and 1899, Bt HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO.

All rights reserved.

Contents

CHAP. PAaB

I. Youth ,1

II. House of Representatives. ... 12

Chapter I Youth

Life is not only " stranger than fiction," but frequently also more tragical than any tragedy ever conceived by the most fervid imagination. Often in these tragedies of life there is not one drop of blood to make us shudder, nor a single event to compel the tears into the eye. A man endowed with an intellect far above the average, impelled by a high-soaring ambition, untainted by any petty or ignoble passion, and guided by a character of sterling firmness and more than common purity, yet, with fatal illusion, devoting all his mental powers, all his moral energy, and the whole force of his iron will to the service of a doomed and unholy cause, and at last sinking into the grave in the very moment when, under the weight of the top-stone, the towering pillars of the temple of his impure idol are rent to their very base, — can anything more tragical be conceived ?

That is, in a few lines, the story of the life of John C. Calhoun. In spite of his grand career, South Carolina's greatest son has had a more hapless fate than any other of the illustrious men in the history of the United States. With few exceptions it is probable that the readers of these pages will consider this a strange or even an absurd assertion, and thereby themselves will furnish another proof of its truth. Alexander Hamilton, America's greatest political genius, has been obliged to wait three quarters of a century to have a statue erected to his memory, and then it had to be done by his own offspring. Calhoun has not had to complain of the same neglect, though nobody could have been justly accused of ingratitude if this honor had not been vouchsafed to him ; for he has no claims upon the gratitude of his country, although his name will forever remain one of the foremost in its records. But, in common with Alexander Hamilton, he is still waiting for the only monument worthy of his memory, a biography which does him full justice ; and he will probably have to wait much longer for such a memorial, — cere perennius, — which indeed, it is not unlikely, may never be erected. As yet it is hardly possible to pass an unbiased judgment upon him, because the wounds of the terrible conflict, in which he was during the lifetime of a whole generation the acknowledged leader, have not fully healed, and therefore those passions have not completely died away which were engendered by the catastrophe in which that conflict ended. Meanwhile, it becomes every day more difficult really to understand that struggle. Even the present generation, which has grown into manhood since the civil war, hardly realizes that it is not a soul-stirring romance, but sober history. The next generation will find it easier to form an adequate conception of the life of the ancient Indians and Egyptians than of that of their own grandfathers ; for there is no other instance in all the history of the world where the civilizations of two different ages, with their antagonistic principles and modes of thinking and feeling, have been so intricately interwoven as in the United States during the times of the slavery conflict. It is only the part played by Calhoun in this conflict which puts him into the very first rank of the men who have acted on the political stage of the United States, though he has done enough else to secure for his name a permanent place in the annals of his country.

As the years roll on, the fame of Daniel "Webster and Henry Clay is gradually growing dimmer, while the name of Calhoun has yet lost hardly anything of the lurid intensity with which it glowed on the political firmament of the United States towards the end of the first half of this century. Nor will it ever lose much of this. The fact is easily explained, though it may seem strange to the superficial student. The nvimber of Calhoun's admirers in his later years was insignificant in comparison with the enthusiastic hosts who knew no more powerful charm than the captivating voice of the eloquent Kentuckian, and to-day it will not be seriously questioned that Webster was intellectually more than the peer of Calhoun. Neither of the three can lay claim to the name of a statesman in the highest acceptation of the term without more than one qualifying restriction, but Calhoun is certainly less entitled to it than either of his great rivals. Moreover, these had so many peculiar traits of character, habits, and fancies, that their lives are a rich source of pleasant anecdotes ; and from the background of the general historical development, their figures spring forth in bold relief with a vividness equalling that of Washington, Jefferson, and John Adams. Of Calhoun the man, on the contrary, but very little is to be told. Even his contemporaries, with perhaps the exception of his nearest neighbors, did not know much of his doings as a private individual, or at least do not seem to have thought them of sufficient interest to be handed down to posterity.

AVhether his private correspondence, which is still withheld from the public, will throw much light on this side of his life cannot be told. I have to state with regret that, according to my information, not very much is to be expected. I was assured in Charleston, by an intimate younger friend of Calhoun, that he had not been in the habit of carefully preserving his private letters, and that many of his papers, which are at present intrusted to Mr. Hunter, of Virginia, were lost during the civil war. However that may be, the newspapers of the times and the published private correspondences of his co-actors tell hardly anything of the personal relations and the home-life of the man whose slightest public act was watched with interest by the whole nation. We hear that he was a just and kind master to his slaves, that he was possessed of an uncommon conversational talent, and that he exercised an especial fascination upon young men. This is about all. From the historical standpoint it is, of course, deeply to be regretted that we are so little informed about the every-day life of so remarkable a man ; and yet one cannot help feeling at the same time a certain satisfaction that we learn no more about it. There is no better proof of the personal purity of a public man than the complete stillness of all gossiping tongues, among friends as well as foes. The consequence of this silence is, however, that so soon as the grave closes over such a public per-, sonage, the figure begins to assume a shadowy appearance. A well-read student of the history of the United States may often easily imagine himself seated next to Webster and Clay at the social board, or walking with them in the lanes of their farms, though he may have been born after their eyes had been closed forever. But no one who has not actually grasped Calhoun's hand and looked into the depth of those steady and keen eyes will ever be tempted to indulge for a single moment in such an illusion with regard to him. Twenty or thirty years hence there will not be a single person left to whom he is or ever has been fully a man of flesh and bone. The Representative, the Secretary of War, the Vice-President, the " great Nullifier," the Senator, our posterity like ourselves may be perfectly acquainted with ; but the Calhoun off the political stage, the Calhoun who ate and drank like other mortals, who laughed, chatted, and sorrowed, who enjoyed life and battled with its small and great cares, is long ago dead, and no pen will ever be able to recall him to life in the same sense in which Webster and Clay still are and will remain alive so long as the American people cherish the memory of their great men.

Yet it is unquestionably true, as it was asserted before, that the name of Calhoun already conveys a much more definite idea to the American people than that of either AVebster or Clay, and that this difference will be steadily increased in his favor. The simple explanation of this remarkable fact is, that Calhoun is in an infinitely higher degree the representative of an idea, and this idea is the pivotal point on which the history of the United States has turned from 1819 to nearly the end of the first century of their existence as an independent republic. From about 1830 to the day of bis death, Calhoun may be called the very impersonation of the slavery question. From the moment when he assumes this character, his figure towers far above all his contemporaries, even Jackson not excepted ; while up to that time he is, in spite of his uncommonly brilliant career, only an able politician of the higher and nobler order, having many peers and even a considerable number of superiors among the statesmen of the United States. These introductory remarks seem necessary in order to justify the brevity with which we are compelled to treat the youth of Calhoun and the first period of his public life.

In 1733 James Calhoun is said to have emigrated from Donegal in Ireland to the United States. He first went to Pennsylvania, then settled on the Kanawha, in Virginia, and at last, in 1756, removed to South Carolina. In 1770 his son Patrick married Martha Caldwell, the daughter of a Presbyterian emigrant from Ireland. John Caldwell Calhoun, the third son of Patrick and Martha, was born March 18, 1782, in the Abbeville District, South Carolina. Though his father died while he was still a boy, the ardent temper of the zealous revolutionary patriot seems to have exercised a marked influence on the formation of the character of the son. John remained with his mother on the farm. There he led a quiet and simple life, for his father had left the family in very modest circumstances. No opportunity was offered him to attend regularly a good school, and his solitary rambles in the woods had to serve in lieu of systematic instruction. Being from his early childhood of a meditative turn of mind, the youth learned to think before his memory had become burdened with the thoughts of other people. This defective education in his boyhood made itself felt through his whole life. In spite of the diligence with which he api^lied himself later, for some years, to his books, the stock of positive knowledge which he had to fall back upon was never large, and the peculiar kind of narrowness which is inseparable from one-sidedness was among the most prominent traits in his mental and moral structure. But what he lacked in breadth of view he fully made up by penetrating intensity, bold independence of thinking, and a keen instinct for the true nature of the things which fell within the limited circle in which his mind moved.

Calhoun had completed his eighteenth year, when he began an uninterrupted course of systematic study in order to fit himself for the higher walks of life. Under the direction of his brother-in-law, Dr. AVaddel, a Presbyterian clergyman, he prepared himself for college, and after two short years he was able to enter the junior class at Yale. In 1804 he was graduated with high honors, and then devoted himself for three years to the study of law, spending eighteen months of the time at the law school at Litchfield, Connecticut. Of much more importance than the often-repeated story, that while at Yale he had been declared fit and likely to become some day President of the United States, is the unmistakable fact that his prolonged sojourn in New England exercised a marked influence upon the formation of the political opinions which he held in the beginning of bis political career.

Having returned to Abbeville, he began to practise law ; but it does not appear that the public were especiall}'^ eager to avail themselves of his services as an attorney and counsellor, nor that he distinguished himself in any case of importance. A man of his general ability and uncommon logical acuteness could not have failed to acquire a prominent standing in this calling if he had devoted himself to it with his whole energy. Yet he woidd undoubtedly never have become a great lawyer, because he was not objective enough to examine his premises with sufficient care, while he built his argument upon them with undeviating and most incisive logic, thereby frequently arriving at most shocking conclusions with nothing to stand upon except a basis of false postulates. Moreover, such natures never attain greatness, unless they pursue an aim which fills the whole head and heart with the force of a burning passion, a frame of mind into which but few men caa be put by the common law ; and of these few Calh.oun certainly was not one. He was a born leader of men, and nature had destined him for a political career. While at college the exciting questions of the day had engrossed his whole attention, and the intelligence and earnestness with which he discussed them proved that he would try to have a hand in shaping the events of the future. Sooner and in a higher degree than he himself had probably dared to anticipate, this wish was to be fulfilled.

He had barely had time to get again familiar with the surroundings of his youth, when he was sent by his district to the state Legislature. The stage was too small to draw the eyes of the nation upon the young man, but it was the right place to prove his fitness for a larger one. In 1811 he was elected a member of Congress, and in the same year he, married his cousin, rioride Calhoun. She was possessed of a modest fortune, which enabled him to steer with all sails set into the open sea of politics. On November 4 he took his seat in the House of Representatives, having previously removed to Bath on the Savannah.

Chapter II House Of Eepeesentatives

The times were most favorable for a clever and ambitious young statesman to make a brilliant debut. The policy of commercial restrictions, with which Jefferson and Madison had tried to force England and France to respect the rights of neutrals, had signally failed. The party in power had not the candor and moral courage to acknowledge that it had stumbled into grave mistakes, but it was apparent tliat it could no more, for any length of time, pursue its old course. If the great European war should last much longer — and there was no prospect of its speedy termination — the United States would evidently be forced to abandon all half-hearted and two-edged measures, and to adopt a clear and decisive policy. It was perhaps impossible to satisfy the commercial States ; but thus much was certain, that their dissatisfaction was too great and too well-founded to permit an expectation that they would jog on with impunity in the old ruts. Nor would either the honor or the vital interests of the Union allow that it should bow its head in meekness, and receive with folded arms the stripes which the belligerent powers were pleased to lay on its back. Whatever might be resolved upon and done, it was sure to raise a great clamor among a considerable portion of the people ; yet something must be done, and in such circumstances the race generally is to the swift and the battle to the strong.

It was a coincidence of the utmost importance that the ranks of the revolutionary patriots had, by this time, become so thinned that the representatives of a new generation coidd grasp the helm without having to encounter the opposition of long acknowledged authority. It so happened, also, that among these newcomers on the political stage there were some exceptionally young men, possessed of a much higher order of talent than most of their seniors. So the leadership of the nation in this great crisis fell into the hands of untried and inexperienced men, who had hardly reached maturity, yet were fully conscious of their own power and worth, and who were impelled by a high-toned pride and ardent patriotism, and urged on by the glowing visions of an unbounded ambition. It was therefore to be expected that, true to the nature of hot-blooded, daring, and self-relying youth, they would advise the cutting of the Gordian knot which the silver-haired sages of the Revolution had vainly tried to disentangle. At which side of it, in their opinion, the stroke of the sword should be dealt, could not be doubtful from the first. In spite of Napoleon, the majority of the people had not yet entirely lost the enthusiastic sympathy awakened by the French Kevolution, and the services rendered by France to the United States in the war of independence were still unforgotten. On the other hand, the old wounds which had been inflicted by the blows exchanged with England had not quite ceased to rankle ; the emancipated daughter smarted under the overbearing haughtiness of the mother, whom she had once forced to submit to her just claims. Then, too, above all else. Napoleon's violent decrees against the rights of neutrals were to a considerable extent mere stage lightnings, while the English Orders in Council told with terrible effect upon the commerce and the general prosperity of the United States, and the pretended right of visitation, which was frequently exercised with studied insolence, cut the American pride to the quick. Prudential reasons of great weight might be urged against resenting all these injuries at this time with powder and lead, and personal interest as well as party spirit would surely put these reasons into the strongest light. But it was no less certain that the passionate and indignant appeals to the counter-reasons would awaken a loud echo in numberless bosoms, since every patriot had to confess to himself that they too had great weight.

The general elections for the Twelfth Congress had resulted in favor of the war party. It was principally due to his position towards this overshadowing question that Henry Clay owed his election to the speakership ; and for the same reason the Speaker awarded the second place on the Committee on Foreign Relations to the new member from South Carolina. Mr. Cralle, the editor of Calhoun's works, assures us that at the first meeting of the members Calhoun was — on motion of Mr. Porter, of Pennsylvania, to whom the Speaker had assigned the chairmanship — mianimously chosen to preside over their deliberations. So he held from the first the place which, next to the speakership, was the most important in the House of Representatives.

On November 29, 1811, the committee, to wliifh that part of the President's message relatins' to foreign affairs had been referred, submitted its report. Although the report was presented by Mr. Porter, it seems likely that it was mainly written by Calhoun. The essence of it was contained in the following sentences : -^

"To wronos so daring in tlieir character, and so disgraceful in tlieir execution, it is impossible that the people of the United States should remain indifferent. We must now tamely and quietly submit, or we must resist by those means which God has placed within our reach.

" Your committee will not cast a shade on the American name by the expression of a doubt which branch of this alternative will be embraced ; . . • the period has arrived when, in the opinion of your committee, it is the sacred duty of Congress to call forth the patriotism and the resources of the country."

The report concluded with six resolutions, which were designed to give effect to this o^jinion.

So the first act of Calhoun on the national stage was to sound the war-trumpet. Henceforth incessant war, war to the bitter end, was to be his destiny to the last day of his life ; though it was in later years to be waged not against a foreign aggressor, but against internal adversaries, against the peace of the Union, against the true welfare of his own section of the country.

On December 12 Calhoun delivered his first set speech in Congress, defending the resolutions and refuting the arguments of John Randolph, who was himself a member of the Committee on Foreign Relations. On a former occasion Calhoun had addressed to the House a few remarks on a question of little importance, which he had concluded with an allusion to the diffidence and embarrassment which a young man necessarily felt in speaking to the assembled representatives of the nation. Now, however, there was in his whole tone and manner no more the slightest trace of such a feeling. He did not speak with arrogance, and still less was there anything personally offensive in what he said, or in the manner with which he said it. From the beginning of his public career he observed the parliamentary proprieties with the rigor and naturalness of the born gentleman. Often did he prove that he could wield with equal force and dexterity the trenchant sword and the massive club, but he always attacked the argument of his adversary and not his person, and he was never guilty of the hectoring and bullying tone in which so many of the Southern politicians indulged with keen relish. From the first he entered the lists with the proud conviction of being fully the equal of any man, und he always spoke in the weighty tone of authority. Upon him the shaking of Randolph's long finger made no impression. With open visor he met the 'much-dreaded antagonist, and though he did not throw him to the ground, yet the

Virginian came out of the figlit only second best. They exchanged many a tilt, and the ill-humor with which Randolph spoke of Calhoun, in his private correspondence, shows how much he felt the wounds received from the lance of that adversary.

Calhoun began his speech with the open avowal " that the committee recommended the measures now before the House, as a preparation for war ; " and he added, "■ such, in fact, was its express resolve, agreed to, I believe by every member, except that gentleman [Randolph]. . . . Indeed, the report could mean nothing but war or empty menace." With lofty indignation he repelled the insinuation that, though there was adequate cause for war, the people would not deem their violated interests and outraged rights of sufficient moment willingly to defray the costs of fighting for their vindication.

" But it may be, and I believe it was said, that the people will not pay taxes, because the rights violated are not worth defending ; or that the defence will cost more than the gain. Sir, I here enter my solemn protest against this low and ' calculating avarice ' entering this hall of legislation. It is only fit for shops and counting-houses ; and ought not to disgrace the seat of power by its squalid aspect. Whenever it touches sovereign power, the nation is ruined. It is too short-sighted to defend itself. It is a compromising spirit, always ready to yield a part to save the residue. It is too timid to have in itself the laws of self-preservation. It is never safe but under the shield of honor. . . . Sir, I am not versed in this calculating policy ; and will not, therefore, pretend to estimate in dollars and cents the value of national independence. I cannot measure in shillings and pence the misery, the stripes, and the slavery of our impressed seamen ; nor even the value of our shipping, commercial, and agricultural losses under the Orders in Council and the British system of blockade."

With equal candor he answered Randolph's question, why then, if all this was so, war was not declared immediately : '' Because," he said, "we are not yet prepared." That there was any danger in avowing this and, at the same time, using the threatening language employed by himself and those who shared his views, he denied ; because, he said, England would never be provoked into beginning hostilities from a fear of uniting " all parties here."

After this speech the passing of the resolutions by the House coidd not be understood otherwise than as a formal announcement that war would be declared so soon as, in the ojiinion of the war party, the country should be sufficiently prepared. So far as it depended upon the House, the great question was virtually decided, and the war party pushed vigorously on towards the bloody goal. They needed half a year more to reach it. President Madison was about the last man to long for the laurels of "the conquering hero." His whole character as well as his political convictions made him exceedingly loath to gratify the wishes of the young Hotspurs, who nevertheless dragged him along by a strong rope. As Jefferson's Secretary of State and as President he had advocated and pursued a policy, the legitimate consequence of which was war. He could not now take a decided stand against the war party without acknowledging that this policy had been, from beginning to end, a mistaken one, — an avowal which no statesman will easily make, and which, on the part of Madison, woidd have been a formal renunciation of his aspirations for a second term. That was the vise in which he was held by the war party, and mercilessly they screwed it tighter and tighter. In vain he tried to conciliate them by consenting to follow their lead ; they insisted that he should assume the full responsibility, and they would be satisfied with nothing less.

On April 1 the President sent a message to Congress, recommending an embargo. Mr. Grundy said that he understood it "as a war measure, and it was meant that it should directly lead to war," and Calhoun afterwards declared "its manifest propriety as a prelude to war." Without grantinj,^ to the opposition the necessary time to develop their views. Congress, on April 4, passed the hill laying an embargo on all vessels. It was limited to sixty days solely because those who liehl the destiny of the country in their hands were fidly resolved that it should not "be permitted to expire without any hostile measure being taken against Great Britain."

It was not due to the President that this announcement, indirectly made by Calhoun on May 6, was not fulfilled to the letter. Another message laid before Congress at length all the wroncs which the United States liad suffered for so many years. " We behold," it said, " in fine, on the side of Great Britain a state of war a<'ainst the United States, and on the side of the United States a state of peace towards Great Britain." Therefore it was now incumbent on Congress to decide whether force should be opposed to force. This was virtually a recommendation of war. In the name of the Committee on Foreign Relations, Calhoun presented a report to the House, advising "an iuimediate appeal to arms," and, at the same time, he moved that a formal declaration of war should be issued against Great Britain. On the following day the House passed this to the third reading, after Randolph's motion, renewed by Milnor, to open the doors, and Stow's request to postpone the final action to the next day, had both been rejected. Thus the majority crowned the high-handed recklessness with which, ever since the beginning of the session, they had bent the just claims of the minority under their imperious will. In later years Calhoun learned well enough to clamor for the rights of the minority, while he was but too apt to forget that the majority also had rights, and, above all others, the right to rule. Perhaps the time was not far distant when he and his associates would have reason to rue their present abuse of power, for the declaration of war received a majority of only thirty votes, although the Democratic majority in the full House was seventy.

In the Senate, the defection from the party even threatened to become fatal to the wishes of the war party. On motion of Mr. Gregg, of Pennsylvania, the bill providing for the declaration of v/ar was recommitted by a majority of four- Not vmtil June 17 did a sufficient number of reluctant Democrats yield to allow the amended bill to be passed to a third reading. The House agreed to the amendments on the following day.

A few days after the declaration of war, the

House took up the question whether and how far the restrictive policy concerning commerce should be abandoned. The Committee on Ways and Means reported a bill for the partial suspension of the Non-Importation Act. This was not deemed sufficient relief in the States on which the mistaken policy hitherto pursued had weighed most heavily. Mr. Richardson, of Massachusetts, moved the total repeal of the whole restrictive system. The motion was not as'reed to : but when it was renewed the following day in a modified form, rendering the proposition somewhat less sweeping, the casting vote of the Speaker was required to carry the day against the opposition. For two years more the pernicious policy was persisted in.

Calhoun had separated himself on this important question from the majority. He earnestly advocated the repeal of the Non-Importation Act. His obligations as a party man he satisfied by denying that Jefferson's and Madison's policy could be justly charged with pusillanimity, — a compliment the more empty, because the closing remarks of his speech proved that he himself was not convinced of the truth of the assertion. It was a question not of motives, but of policy, and as to that he said : " The restrictive system, as a mode of resistance, and a means of obtaining redress of our wrongs, has never been a favorite one with nie." The reasons on which he supported his opinion were sound, and the whole manner in which he treated the subject was that of a statesman standing on sufficiently elevated ground to take in the whole view, and not to be misled by petty details. On the past he bestowed but a slight glance, very properly confining himself to the effect which the maintenance of the old policy would have under the altered circumstances. From this point of view, he condemned it without qualification in measured but severe terms. " With no small mortification," he asked those who had supported the war, and now thought its success depejident upon the continuation of the Non-Imj^ortation Act, whether the war was to be " an appendage only " of this act. " If so, I disclaim it. It is an alarming idea to be in a state of war, and not to rely on our courage or energy, but on a measure of peace." The assertion that, if the Non-Importation Act should be continued, a speedy restoration of peace might be relied upon, he declared to be delusive and a cause of alarm, for " it will debilitate the springs of war. . . . We have had a peace like a war. In the name of Heaven, let us not have the only thing that is worse, a war like a peace." This solemn warning was certainly not out of place ; but if it was necessary to utter it within a week after tlie declaration of war, he ought to have pondered well ere he did his best to push the country into a conflict which, whatever it might become in the course of time, was originally not a national but a party war, or rather a war of the party leaders.