Chapter IV…

Chapter IV

Review (continued).--Relations with Mexico.--General Taylor marches his Army to the Rio Grande.--First Encounter with the Mexican Army.--Excitement in the United States.--Congress declares War against Mexico.--Ill Temper of the Whigs.--Defeat of the Democrats in the Congressional Elections of 1846.--Policy of Mr. Polk in Regard to Acquisition of Territory from Mexico.--Three- Million Bill.--The Famous Anti-slavery Proviso moved by David Wilmot.--John Quincy Adams.--His Public Service.--Robert C. Winthrop chosen Speaker.--Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo.--Presidential Election of 1848.--Effort of the Administration to make a Democratic Hero out of the Mexican War.--Thomas H. Benton for Lieutenant-General. --Bill defeated.--Nomination of General Taylor for the Presidency by the Whigs.--Nomination of General Cass by the Democratic Party. --Van Buren refuses to support him.--Democratic Bolt in New York. --Buffalo Convention and the Organization of the Free-soil Party. --Nomination of Van Buren and Charles Francis Adams.--Mr. Clay's Discontent.--Mr. Webster's Speech at Marshfield.--General Taylor elected.--The Barnburners of New York.--Character and Public Services of Mr. Van Buren.

By a suggestive coincidence, the practical abandonment of the line of 54 deg. 40' by the administration was contemporaneous with the outbreak of the Mexican war. The modified resolution of notice to Great Britain was finally passed in both branches of Congress on the 23d of April, and on the succeeding day the first blood was shed in that contest between the two Republics which was destined to work such important results in the future and fortunes of both.

The army of occupation in Texas, commanded by General Zachary Taylor, had, during the preceding winter, been moving westward with the view of encamping in the valley of the Rio Grande. On the 28th of March General Tyler took up his position on the banks of the river, opposite Matamoros, and strengthened himself by the erection field-works. General Ampudia, in command of the Mexican army stationed at Matamoros, was highly excited by the arrival of the American army, and on the 12th of April notified General Taylor to break up his camp within twenty-four hours, and to retire beyond the Nueces River. In the event of his failure to comply with these demands, Ampudia announced that "arms, and arms alone, must decide the question." According to the persistent claim of the Mexican Government, the Nueces River was the western boundary of Texas; and the territory between that river and the Rio Grande--a breadth of one hundred and fifty miles on the coast--was held by Mexico to be a part of her domain, and General Taylor consequently an invader of her soil. No reply was made to Ampudia; and on the 24th of April General Arista, who had succeeded to the command of the Mexican army, advised General Taylor that "he considered hostilities commenced, and should prosecute them."

BEGINNING OF MEXICAN WAR.

Directly after this notification was received, General Taylor dispatched a party of dragoons, sixty-three in number, officers and men, up the valley of the Rio Grande, to ascertain whether the Mexicans had crossed the river. They encountered a force much larger than their own, and after a short engagement, in which some seventeen were killed and wounded, the Americans were surrounded, and compelled to surrender. When intelligence of this affair reached the United States, the war-spirit rose high among the people. "Our country has been invaded," and "American blood spilled on American soil," were the cries heard on every side. In the very height of this first excitement, without waiting to know whether the Mexican Government would avow or disavow the hostile act, President Polk, on the 11th of May, sent a most aggressive message to Congress, "invoking its prompt action to recognize the existence of war, and to place at the disposition of the Executive the means of prosecuting the contest with vigor, and thus hastening the restoration of peace." As soon as the message was read in the House, a bill was introduced authorizing the President to call out a force of fifty thousand men, and giving him all the requisite power to organize, arm, and equip them. The preamble declared that "war existed by the act of Mexico," and this gave rise to an animated and somewhat angry discussion. The Whigs felt that they were placed in an embarrassing attitude. They must either vote for what they did not believe, or, by voting against the bill, incur the odium which always attaches to the party that fails by a hair's-breadth to come to the defense of the country when war is imminent.

Prominent Whigs believed, that, as an historical and geographical fact, the river Nueces was the western boundary of Texas, and that the President, by assuming the responsibility of sending an army of occupation into the country west of that river, pending negotiations with Mexico, had taken a hostile and indefensible step. But all agreed that it was too late to consider any thing except the honor of the country, now that actual hostilities had begun. The position of the Whigs was as clearly defined by their speakers as was practicable in the brief space allowed for discussion of the war bill. Against the protest of many, it was forced to a vote, after a two hours' debate. The administration expected the declaration to be unanimous; but there were fourteen members of the House who accepted the responsibility of defying the war feeling of the country by voting "no"--an act which required no small degree of moral courage and personal independence. John Quincy Adams headed the list. The other gentlemen were all Northern Whigs, or pronounced Free-Soilers.

The Senate considered the bill on the ensuing day, and passed it after a very able debate, in which Mr. Calhoun bore a leading part. He earnestly deprecated the necessity of the war, though accused by Benton of plotting to bring it on. Forty senators voted for it, and but two against it,--Thomas Clayton of Delaware and John Davis of Massachusetts. Mr. Crittenden of Kentucky and Mr. Upham of Vermont, when their names were called, responded, "Ay, except the preamble." The bill was promptly approved by the President, and on the 13th of May, 1846, the two Republics were declared to be at war. In the South and West, from the beginning, the war was popular. In the North and East it was unpopular. The gallant bearing of our army, however, changed in large degree the feeling in sections where the war had been opposed. No finer body of men ever enlisted in an heroic enterprise than those who volunteered to bear the flag in Mexico. They were young, ardent, enthusiastic, brave almost to recklessness, with a fervor of devotion to their country's honor. The march of Taylor from the Rio Grande, ending with the unexpected victory against superior numbers at Buena Vista, kept the country in a state of excitement and elation, and in the succeeding year elevated him to the Presidency. Not less splendid in its succession of victories was the march of Scott from Vera Cruz to the city of Mexico, where he closed his triumphal journey by taking possession of the capital, and enabling his government to dictate terms of peace.

DEMOCRATIC DEFEAT IN 1846.

For the first and only time in our political history, an administration conducting a war victorious at every step, steadily lost ground in the country. The House of Representatives which declared war on the 11th of May, 1846, was Democratic by a large majority. The House, elected in the ensuing autumn, amid the resounding acclamations of Taylor's memorable victory at Monterey, had a decided Whig majority. This political reverse was due to three causes,--the enactment of the tariff of 1846, which offended the manufacturing interest of the country; the receding of the administration on the Oregon question, which embarrassed the position and wounded the pride of the Northern Democrats; and the wide-spread apprehension that the war was undertaken for the purpose of extending and perpetuating slavery. The almost unanimous Southern vote for the hasty surrender of the line of 54 deg. 40', on which so much had been staked in the Presidential campaign, gave the Whigs an advantage in the popular canvass. The contrast between the boldness with which the Polk administration had marched our army upon the territory claimed by Mexico, and the prudence with which it had retreated from a contest with Great Britain, after all our antecedent boasting, exposed the Democrats to merciless ridicule. Clever speakers who were numerous in the Whig party at that day did not fail to see and seize their advantage.

The Mexican war had scarcely begun when the President justified the popular suspicion by making known to Congress that one of its objects was to be the acquisition of territory beyond the Rio Grande. Perhaps it would be fairer to say that he expected such acquisition to be one of its results. He ably vindicated the policy of marching a military force into the territory between the Nueces and the Rio Grande, by the fact that he was memorialized to do so by the still existing Congress of Texas, on the urgent plea that Mexico was preparing to move upon the territory with a view to its recapture. In this Congress of Texas, the same body that completed the annexation, there were representatives from the territory in dispute beyond the Nueces; and the President felt that they were in an eminent degree entitled to the protection of our government. Events were so hurried that in three months from the formal declaration of war, and before any victory of decisive significance had been achieved, the President sent a special message to Congress, in which he suggested that "the chief obstacle to be surmounted in securing peace would be the adjustment of a boundary that would prove satisfactory and convenient to both republics." He admitted that we ought to pay a fair equivalent for any concessions which might be made by Mexico, and asked that a sum of money should be placed in his hands to be paid to Mexico immediately upon the ratification of a treaty of peace. As a precedent for this unusual request, the President cited the example of Mr. Jefferson in asking and receiving from Congress, in 1803, a special appropriation of money, to be expended at his discretion. As soon as the reading of the message was concluded, Mr. McKay of North Carolina, chairman of the committee of ways and means, introduced a bill, without preamble or explanation, directing that two millions of dollars be appropriated, to be "applied under the direction of the President to any extraordinary expenses which may be incurred in our foreign intercourse." The war was not referred to, Mexico was not named, and the simple phraseology of the Jefferson Act of 1803 was repeated word for word.

A very animated debate followed, in which Northern men took the lead. Mr. Robert C. Winthrop spoke of the administration with unwonted harshness, declaring that "it and its friends had thought fit, during the present session, to frame more than one of these important measures, so as to leave their opponents in a false position whichever way they voted." . . . He "could not and would not vote for this bill as it now stood. . . . It was a vote of unlimited confidence in an administration in which, he was sorry to say, there was very little confidence to be placed." Mr. John Quincy Adams differed from Mr. Winthrop, and could not refrain from a pardonable thrust at that gentleman for his previous vote that "war existed by act of Mexico." He differed from his colleague, Mr. Adams demurely affirmed, with a regret equal to that with which he had differed from him on the bill by which war was declared. He should not vote for this bill in any form, but suggested that it be so amended as to specify expressly that the money is granted for the purpose of negotiating peace with Mexico.

THE WILMOT PROVISO.

The bill was promptly modified in accordance with the desires of Mr. Adams, and at the moment when its passage seemed secure it was arrested by an amendment of momentous character, submitted by a young member from Pennsylvania. David Wilmot represented a district which had always given Democratic majorities, and was himself an intense partisan of that political school. He was a man of strong physique and strong common sense; of phlegmatic temperament, without any pretension to genius; a sensible speaker, with no claim to eloquence or oratory. But he had courage, determination, and honesty. He believed the time had come to arrest the progress and extension of slavery. He knew that the two-million bill was urged by the President because he wished to use the money to promote the acquisition of territory, and he determined then and there to make a stand in favor of free soil. He thereupon, on the 8th of August, 1846, moved a proviso to the two-million bill, declaring it to be "an express and fundamental condition to the acquisition of any territory from Mexico, that neither slavery nor involuntary servitude shall ever exist therein."

Mr. Wilmot was in the first session of his first Congress, was but thirty-three years of age, and up to that moment had not been known beyond his district. His amendment made his name familiar at once throughout the length and breadth of the Republic. No question had arisen since the slavery agitation of 1820 that was so elaborately debated. The Wilmot Proviso absorbed the attention of Congress for a longer time than the Missouri Compromise: it produced a wider and deeper excitement in the country, and it threatened a more serious danger to the peace and integrity of the Union. The consecration of the territory of the United States to freedom became from that day a rallying cry for every shade of anti-slavery sentiment. If it did not go as far as the Abolitionists in their extreme and uncompromising faith might demand, it yet took a long step forward, and afforded the ground on which the battle of the giants was to be waged, and possibly decided. The feeling in all sections became intense on the issue thus presented, and it proved a sword which cleft asunder political associations that had been close and intimate for a lifetime. Both the old parties were largely represented on each side of the question. The Northern Whigs, at the outset, generally sustained the proviso, and the Northern Democrats divided, with the majority against it. In the slave States both parties were against it, only two men south of Mason and Dixon's line voting for free soil,--John M. Clayton of Delaware in the Senate, and Henry Grider of Kentucky in the House. Mr. Grider re-entered Congress as a Republican after the war. Among the conspicuous Whigs who voted for the proviso were Joseph R. Ingersoll and James Pollock of Pennsylvania, Washington Hunt of New York, Robert C. Winthrop of Massachusetts, Robert C. Schenck of Ohio, and Truman Smith of Connecticut. Among the Democrats were Hannibal Hamlin, and all his colleagues from Maine, Simon Cameron of Pennsylvania, Preston King of New York, John Wentworth of Illinois, Allen G. Thurman of Ohio, and Robert McClelland of Michigan, afterwards Secretary of the Interior under President Pierce.

Mr. Webster voted for the proviso, but with gloomy apprehensions. He could "see little of the future, and that little gave him no satisfaction." He spoke with portentous gravity, and arrested the attention of the country by the solemnity of his closing words: "All I can scan is contention, strife, and agitation. The future is full of difficulties and full of dangers. We appear to be rushing on perils headlong, and with our eyes all open." There was a singular disagreement between the speech and the vote of Mr. Webster. The speech indicated his real position. His vote was in deference to the opinion of Massachusetts. The most conspicuous Northern Whigs who voted against the proviso were Alexander Ramsey of Pennsylvania, since the distinguished Republican senator from Minnesota, and Secretary of War under President Hayes; and Samuel F. Vinton of Ohio, one of the oldest and ablest representatives in Congress.

The House attached the proviso to the two-million bill, and thus defeated it for the session. The Democratic Senate took it up on the day fixed for final adjournment. The majority were not willing to accept the appropriation with the anti-slavery condition upon it, and John Davis of Massachusetts, fearing if the bill went back to the House the proviso might on reconsideration be defeated, deliberately held the floor until the session expired. In the next session the two-million bill, increased to three millions, was passed without the proviso, the administration being strong enough, with the persuasions of its patronage, to defeat the anti-slavery amendment in both branches.

During the proceedings on the three-million bill, an interesting and instructive incident occurred. The venerable John Quincy Adams appeared in the House for the first time during the session, on the 13th of February (1847), having been detained by a very severe illness. As he passed inside the door the entire House voluntarily rose, business was suspended, and Mr. Andrew Johnson of Tennessee (afterwards President of the United States), addressing the Chair, said, that in compliance with the understanding with which he selected a seat at the beginning of the session, he now tendered it to the venerable member from Massachusetts, and congratulated him on being spared to return to the House. Mr. Adams, enfeebled by disease, tremulous with age, returned his thanks, regretting that he had not "voice to respond to the congratulations of his friends for the honor which had been done him." Among those who paid this unusual, indeed unprecedented, mark of respect to a fellow- member, were many from the South, who within a few years had voted to censure Mr. Adams, and had endeavored in every way to heap obloquy upon him for his persistent course in presenting anti- slavery petitions. Spontaneous in impulse, momentary in duration, simple in form, it was yet one of the most striking tributes ever paid to moral dignity and lofty character.

PUBLIC LIFE OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

Mr. Adams was nearing the end of his illustrious life, and a year later was stricken down in the seat which had been so graciously tendered him. His career was in many respects remarkable. He had been minister to five different European courts, senator of the United States, appointed to the Supreme Bench, had been eight years Secretary of State, and four years President. His opportunities were great, his advantages rare, his natural abilities strong. To those he added a high standard of morality, and a love and endurance of labor possessed by few. But it may fairly be doubted whether, if his Presidency had closed his public life, his fame would have attracted special observation. He would scarcely have ranked above Monroe, and would have borne no comparison with Madison. In the Senate he had made no impression. His service abroad was one of industrious routine. His career as Secretary of State was not specially distinguished. The only two treaties of marked importance that were negotiated during his incumbency, were carried, on test questions, by the Cabinet against his judgment. His dispatches have been little quoted as precedents. His diplomatic discussions were not triumphs. Indeed, he was not felicitous with his pen, and suffers by contrast with some who preceded him and many who followed him in that office. But in his sixty-fifth year, when the public life of the most favored draws to a close, the noble and shining career of Mr. Adams began. He entered the House of Representatives in 1831, and for the remainder of his life, a period of seventeen years, he was the one grand figure in that assembly. His warfare against those who would suppress free speech, his heroic contest in favor of the right of the humblest to petition for redress of grievances, are among the memorable events in the parliamentary history of the United States. The amplitude of his knowledge, his industry, his unflagging zeal, his biting sarcasm, his power to sting and destroy without himself showing passion, made a combination of qualities as rare as it was formidable. His previous career had been one of eminent respectability, to be coldly admired and forgotten. His service in the House gave him a name as enduring as the Republic whose history he adorned.

In breadth and thoroughness of learning, Mr. Adams surpassed all his contemporaries in public life. His essays, orations, and addresses were surprisingly numerous, and upon a great variety of subjects. It cannot be said, however, that he contributed any thing to the permanent literature of the country. Nor, in a true estimate of his extraordinary career in Congress, can it be asserted that he attained the first rank as a parliamentary debater. It must be borne in mind that much of his fame in the House of Representatives was derived from the nature of the one question with which he became so conspicuously identified. It was in large degree the moral courage of his position which first fixed the attention of the country and then attracted its admiration. The men with whom he had exciting scenes in regard to the "right of petition" and its cognate issues were in no case the leading statesmen of the day. Wise, Bynum, Dromgoole, Pinckney, Lewis, Thomas F. Marshall, and the other Southern representatives with whom Mr. Adams came in conflict, were ready and brilliant men, but were far below the first rank of debaters. Indeed, with few exceptions, the really eminent debaters were in the Senate during the period of Mr. Adams's service in the House. Mr. Clay, Mr. Webster, Mr. Calhoun, Mr. Benton, Mr. Hayne, Mr. Silas Wright, Mr. Crittenden, Mr. Ewing, Mr. Watkins Leigh, Mr. Rives, Mr. Choate, Mr. John M. Clayton, Mr. Berrien, were an altogether higher and abler class of men than those with whom Mr. Adams had his frequent wrangles in the House. The weapons which he so successfully employed against the young "fire-eaters" would have proved pointless and valueless in a contest with any one of the eminent men who in that long period gave character to the Senate.

The only time Mr. Adams ever crossed swords in the House with a man of commanding power was in the famous discussion of January, 1836, with George Evans of Maine. Mr. Adams had made a covert but angry attack on Mr. Webster for his opposition to the Fortification Bill in the preceding Congress, when President Jackson was making such energetic demonstrations of his readiness to go to war with France. To the surprise of his best friends, Mr. Adams warmly sustained Jackson in his belligerent correspondence with the government of Louis Philippe. His position probably cost him a seat in the United States Senate for which he was then a candidate. Mr. Webster preferred John Davis, who had the preceding year beaten Mr. Adams in the contest for governor of Massachusetts. These circumstances were believed at the time to be the inciting cause for the assault on Mr. Webster. The duty of replying devolved on Mr. Evans. The debate attracted general attention, and the victory of Mr. Evans was everywhere recognized. The Globe for the Twenty- fourth Congress contains a full report of both speeches. The stirring events of forty years have not destroyed their interest or their freshness. The superior strength, the higher order of eloquence, the greater mastery of the art of debate, will be found in the speech of Mr. Evans.

GEORGE EVANS AS A DEBATER.

As a parliamentary debater, using that term in its true signification and with its proper limitations, George Evans is entitled to high rank. He entered the House in 1829, at thirty-two years of age, and served until 1841, when he was transferred to the Senate. He retired from that body in 1847. Upon entering the Senate, he was complimented with a distinction never before or since conferred on a new member. He was placed at the head of the Committee on Finance, taking rank above the long list of prominent Whigs, who then composed the majority in the chamber. The tenacity with which the rights of seniority are usually maintained by senators enhances the value of the compliment to Mr. Evans. Mr. Clay, who had been serving as chairman of the committee, declined in his favor with the remark that "Mr. Evans knew more about the finances than any other public man in the United States." The ability and skill displayed by Mr. Evans in carrying the tariff bill of 1842 through the Senate, fully justified the high encomiums bestowed by Mr. Clay. The opposition which he led four years after to the tariff bill of 1846 gave Mr. Evans still higher reputation, though the measure was unexpectedly carried by the casting vote of the Vice-President.

When Mr. Evans's term of service drew near to its close, Mr. Webster paid him the extraordinary commendation of saying in the Senate that "his retirement would be a serious loss to the government and the country." He pronounced the speech just then delivered by Mr. Evans, on the finances, to be "incomparable." The "senator from Maine," continued Mr. Webster, "has devoted himself especially to studying and comprehending the revenue and finances of the country, and he understand that subject as well as any gentleman connected with the government since the days of Gallatin and Crawford,--nay, as well as either of those gentlemen understood it." This was the highest praise from the highest source! Of all who have represented New England in the Senate, Mr. Evans, as a debater, is entitled to rank next to Mr. Webster!

The next Congress met in December, 1847. Besides the venerable ex- president, there were two future Presidents among its members-- Abraham Lincoln and Andrew Johnson. Mr. Robert C. Winthrop was chosen Speaker. He was nominated in the Whig caucus over Samuel F. Vinton of Ohio, because he had voted for the Wilmot Proviso, and Mr. Vinton against it.* Mr. Vinton was senior in age and long senior in service to Mr. Winthrop. Mr. Vinton had entered the House in 1823 and Mr. Winthrop in 1840. Mr. Vinton had moreover been selected as the Whig candidate for Speaker in the preceding Congress, when that party was in minority. The decision against him now created no little feeling in Whig circles, especially in the West where he was widely known and highly esteemed. But, while Mr. Winthrop was rewarded by this nomination for his vote in favor of the Wilmot Proviso, the more pronounced anti-slavery men were hostile to him. In the end he owed his election to timely aid from Southern Whigs. This fact, no doubt, had its effect on Mr. Winthrop's mind, and with other influences tended to separate him rapidly and conclusively from the anti-slavery wing of the Whig party.

It would, however, be unjust to Mr. Winthrop not to recognize that the chief reason for his selection as Speaker was his pre-eminent fitness for the important post. He was a young man, and, other conditions being equal, young men have been uniformly preferred for the arduous duties of the Chair. From the organization of the government the speakers, at the time of their first election, have been under forty-five years of age,--many, indeed, under forty. In only four instances have men been selected beyond the age of fifty. Mr. Clay when first chosen was but thirty-four, Mr. Polk thirty-nine, Mr. John Bell thirty-seven, Mr. Howell Cobb thirty- three, and Mr. Robert M. T. Hunter, the youngest man ever elected Speaker, was but thirty. Mr. Winthrop was thirty-eight. He was bred to the law in the office of Mr. Webster, but at twenty-five years of age entered political life as a member of the Massachusetts House of Representatives. He was soon after promoted to the speakership of that body, where he earned so valuable a reputation as a presiding officer that some of his decisions have been quoted as precedents in the National House, and have been incorporated in permanent works on Parliamentary Law. He was chosen in Congress when he was but thirty, and was in his fifth term in the House when he was advanced to the Speakership. As an orator he was always graceful and effective, but never took high rank in the House as a debater. His early life gave promise of a long public career in Massachusetts as the successor of the older Whig leaders who were passing off the stage. He followed Mr. Webster in the Senate for a brief period, when the latter became Secretary of State under Mr. Fillmore. His conservative tendencies on the Slavery question, however, were not in harmony with the demands of public opinion in Massachusetts, and in 1851 he was defeated for the governorship by George S. Boutwell, and for the senatorship by Charles Sumner. Mr. Winthrop's political career closed when he was forty-two years of age.

WHIGS ABANDON THE WILMOT PROVISO.

The events of the year 1847 had persuaded the Whig leaders that, if they persisted in the policy embodied in the Wilmot Proviso, they would surrender all power to control the ensuing Presidential election. By clever management and the avoidance of issues which involved the slavery question, they felt reasonably sure of the votes of Delaware, Maryland, North Carolina, Kentucky, and Tennessee, with a probability of securing Georgia, Louisiana, and Florida. To throw these States away by an anti-slavery crusade was to accept inevitable defeat, and disband the Whig party. Mr. Winthrop was therefore representing the prevailing wishes of Northern Whigs when he used his influence to restrain rather than promote the development of the anti-slavery policy which had been initiated with such vigor. The result of this change was soon visible. In the preceding House, with a large Democratic majority, the Wilmot Proviso had been adopted. In the Whig House, over which Mr. Winthrop presided, it was found impossible to repeat the vote during the preparations for the national contest then impending. The treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, by which we acquired a vast territory from Mexico, was ratified by the Senate, and the House voted the fifteen millions demanded by it without adding a restriction of any kind on the subject of slavery. Every acre of the nine hundred thousand square miles was free territory while under the rule of Mexico, and the Commissioners of that government were extremely anxious that the United States should give a guaranty that its character in this respect should not be changed. They urged that to see slavery recognized upon soil once owned by Mexico would be so abhorrent to that government as it would be to the United States to see the Spanish Inquisition established upon it. Mr. Nicholas F. Trist, the American commissioner, gave a reply which a free Republic reads with increasing amazement. He declared that if the territory proposed to be ceded "were increased tenfold in value, and, in addition to that, covered a foot thick with pure gold, on the single condition that slavery should be forever excluded," he would not "entertain the offer for a moment, nor even think of sending it to his government. No American President would dare to submit such a treaty to the Senate."

With this suppression, if not indeed re-action, of the popular feeling in the North, on the subject of slavery, the two great parties approached the Presidential election of 1848. Each was under peculiar embarrassment in the selection of a candidate, and the presentation of the principles on which support was to be asked. The anomaly presented in the Congressional election of 1846, where an administration conducting a successful war was defeated before the people, promised to be repeated. The Democratic party had precipitated the war, had organized the military force that prosecuted it, had controlled its immense patronage, and had brought it to a victorious conclusion, yet had gained no political strength in the country. The two gallant soldiers who had so largely shared, if indeed they had not absorbed, its glory, were Whigs, and both were in ill-humor with the administration. After the battle of Buena Vista, Taylor's victorious progress had been checked and his army crippled by orders from Washington, which reduced his force, and turned the Regulars over to Scott. Scott ended his brilliant campaign in a flagrant quarrel with the Secretary of War, and was summoned home peremptorily with the prospect of a court-martial. He was ordered to leave General William O. Butler, a Democratic general, in command of the army in the city of Mexico after resistance had ceased.

DEMOCRATIC OFFICERS IN MEXICAN WAR.

The administration had obviously endeavored from the first to create a Democratic hero out of the war. Authorized to appoint a large number of officers in the increased military force, raised directly by the United States, an unjust discrimination was made in favor of Democrats. Thus William O. Butler, John A. Quitman, and Gideon J. Pillow, prominent Democratic leaders in their respective States, were appointed Major-generals directly from civil life. Joseph Lane, James Shields, Franklin Pierce, George Cadwalader, Caleb Cushing, Enos D. Hopping, and Sterling Price, were selected for the high rank of Brigadier-general. Not one Whig was included, and not one of the Democratic appointees had seen service in the field, or possessed the slightest pretension to military education. Such able graduates of West Point as Henry Clay, jun., and William R. McKee, were compelled to seek service through State appointments in volunteer regiments, while Albert Sidney Johnston, subsequently proved to be one of the ablest commanders ever sent from the Military Academy, could not obtain a commission from the General Government. In the war between Mexico and Texas, by which the latter had secured its independence, Johnston had held high command, and was perhaps the best equipped soldier, both by education and service, to be found in the entire country outside the regular army at the time of the Mexican war. General Taylor urged the President to give Johnston command of one of the ten new regiments. Johnston took no part in politics; but his eminent brother, Josiah Stoddard Johnston, long a senator from Louisiana, was Mr. Clay's most intimate friend in public life, and General Taylor's letter was not even answered. The places were wanted for adherents of the administration, and Tibbatts of Kentucky, Jere Clemens of Alabama, Milledge L. Bonham of South Carolina, Seymour of Connecticut, and men of that grade,--eminent in civil life, active partisans, but with no military training,--were preferred to the most experienced soldiers. This fact disfigures the energetic record of Mr. Marcy as secretary of War, and was eminently discreditable to the President and all his advisers.

Perhaps the most inexcusable blunder of the administration was the attempt to take Thomas H. Benton from the Senate, where he was honored, eminent, and useful, make him Lieutenant-general, and send him out to Mexico to supersede both Scott and Taylor in command of the army. The bill to enable this to be done actually passed the House. When under discussion in that branch, a prominent Democratic member from Ohio declared, as one reason for passing the bill, that two of the generals are opposed politically to the Democratic party, and "by their own acts or those of their friends are candidates for the Presidency." The evident basis of this argument was, that the Mexican war being a Democratic venture, no Whig had the right to profit by it. The bill was fortunately stopped in the Senate, though that body at the time had a Democratic majority. The measure was killed by one convincing speech from Mr. Badger of North Carolina. The senators knew Colonel Benton's temper and temperament, and understood how completely unfitted he was for military command, and how his appointment would demoralize and practically destroy the army. To the end of his life, however, Colonel Benton himself believed a serious mistake had been made. He had been commissioned colonel in the war of 1812, but though of unquestioned bravery, and deeply read in military science, it had never been his fortune to engage in battle, or to see the face of an enemy. Yet in the autobiographical sketch which precedes his "Thirty Years' View," he complacently assured himself that his appointment as Lieutenant- general over Scott and Taylor "could not have wounded professional honor," as at the time of his retiring from the army he "ranked all those who have since reached its head."

WHIG OPPOSITION TO GENERAL TAYLOR.

But all the efforts to make a Democratic hero out of the war failed. The line-officers appointed from civil life behaved gallantly. The volunteers under their command were exceptionally excellent,-- almost competent themselves to the conduct of a campaign. The political generals who vaulted from law-offices into the command of brigades and divisions were furnished by the War Department with staff-officers carefully chosen from the best educated and most skillful of the regular army. All would not suffice, however, to displace Taylor and Scott from the post of chief heroes. "Old Rough and Ready," as Taylor was called by his troops, became a popular favorite of irresistible strength, and in the Whig convention of 1848 was chosen over Mr. Clay as the standard-bearer of his party. He was placed before the people on his record as a soldier, unhampered by the political declarations which make up the modern platform. Mr. Clay had expected the nomination, and General Scott had offered to run on the same ticket as Vice-President; but against the constantly rising tide of Taylor's popularity both ordinary and extraordinary political combinations gave way. Even the Kentucky delegation divided,--in accordance with Mr. Crittenden's judgment, though not by his advice. To the overwhelming chagrin and mortification of Mr. Clay, a man unknown in political circles was preferred as the candidate of the party of which he felt himself to have been the creator. Mr. Clay was enraged by the result, and never became reconciled to it. Though he gave in the end a quiet vote at the polls for Taylor, he stubbornly refused during the campaign to open his lips or write a word in favor of his election. Mr. Webster, though without the keen personal disappointment of Mr. Clay, was equally discontented with the nomination. He had spoken in a semi-public way for several months previous to the convention, of the folly of nominating "a swearing, swaggering, frontier colonel" for the Presidency,--an allusion to General Taylor, which was scandalously unjust, and which was contradicted by his whole life. When Taylor was finally nominated, Mr. Webster resented the selection as an indignity to the statesmen of the Whig party. His only ray of comfort was the defeat of Abbott Lawrence for the Vice-Presidency by Millard Fillmore. Mr. Lawrence was a man of wealth, the most prominent manufacturer at the time in the country, of high personal character, and of wide political influence. He was the leading Taylor-Whig in New England, and his course had given offense to Mr. Webster to such an extent indeed, that on a public occasion, after the Presidential election, he referred to Mr. Lawrence in an unfriendly and discourteous manner.

The situation became still further complicated. The Whigs believed they had avoided the responsibility of positive declaration on either side of the issue embodied in the Wilmot Proviso, by selecting a military hero as their candidate. In the phrase of the day, he could make a "Star and Stripe" canvass, with fair chance of success, on both sides of Mason and Dixon's line. There was loss to be incurred by either course. The Whig managers saw plainly that an anti-slavery policy would give almost the entire South to the Democrats, and a pro-slavery policy would rend the Whig party throughout the North. They wisely concluded, if the canvass were merely a game to win votes, that the non-committal plan was the safe one. But this evasive course was not wholly successful. There was a considerable body of men in New England, and especially in Massachusetts, known as "Conscience Whigs," who had deep convictions on the subject of slavery, and refused to support General Taylor. Conspicuous among these were Henry Wilson, E. Rockwood Hoar, and Charles Francis Adams. A defection of the same kind among the Whigs of New York was prevented by the active influence of Mr. Seward, but it developed rapidly in the northern section of Ohio. Throughout the country the Whigs began to fear that a mistake had been made, and that the old leaders had been thrown overboard without due thought of the consequences. Mr. Clay's private correspondence exhibited unmistakable gratification at this aspect of affairs, for he felt assured that the influential Whigs who were now organizing against Taylor would have supported him as cordially as they had done in 1844.

These troubles in the Whig ranks tended, of course, to encourage the Democrats, and to give them for a time great promise of success. The selection of their own candidate, however, had not been unattended with difficulty and dissension. Mr. Polk was from the first out of the question,--verifying the Scripture that those who draw the sword shall perish by the sword. The war inaugurated by him had been completely successful; "a glorious peace," as it was termed, had been conquered; a vast addition to our territory had been accomplished. Yet by common consent, in which Mr. Polk had gracefully concurred in advance, it was admitted that he was not available for re-election. He had sown the dragon's teeth, and the armed men who sprang forth wrested his sceptre from him. But it would not be candid to ascribe his disability solely to events connected with the war. He had pursued the most unwise course in dealing with the New-York Democracy, and had for himself hopelessly divided the party. He made the great blunder of not recognizing the strength and leadership of Van Buren and Silas Wright. He had been led to distrust them, had always felt aggrieved that Wright refused to run on his ticket as Vice-President, and was annoyed by the fact that, as candidate for governor, Wright received several thousand votes more than the electoral ticket which represented his own fortunes. This fact came to him in a manner which deeply impressed it upon his memory. At that time, before railroad or telegraph had hastened the transmission of news beyond the Alleghanies, Mr. Polk in his Tennessee home was in an agony of doubt as to the result in New York. The first intelligence that reached him announced the certain victory of Wright, but left the electoral ticket undecided, with very unpleasant rumors of his own defeat. When at last the returns showed that he had a plurality of five thousand in New York, and was chosen President, it did not suffice to remove the deep impressions of those few days in which, either in the gloom of defeat or in the torture of suspense, he feared that he had been betrayed by the Barnburners of New York as a revenge for Van Buren's overthrow at Baltimore. As matter of fact the suspicion was absolutely groundless. The contest for governor between Silas Wright and Millard Fillmore called out intense feeling, and the former had the advantage of personal popularity over the latter just as Mr. Clay had over Mr. Polk. Mr. Wright's plurality was but five thousand greater than Mr. Polk's, and this only proved that among half a million voters there may have been twenty-five hundred who preferred Mr. Clay for President and Mr. Wright for governor.

PRESIDENT POLK AND MR. VAN BUREN.

But there was no manifestation of feeling or apparent withholding of confidence on the part of Mr. Polk when the result was finally proclaimed. On the contrary he offered the Treasury Department to Mr. Wright, feeling assured in advance, as the uncharitable thought, that Wright could not leave the governorship to accept it. When the office was declined, Mr. Polk again wrote Mr. Wright, asking his advice as to the New-York member of the cabinet. Mr. Wright submitted the names of three men from whom wise choice could be made,--Benjamin F. Butler, who had been attorney-general under President Jackson; John A. Dix, then recently chosen to the United- States Senate; and Azariah C. Flagg, eminent in the party, and especially distinguished for his administration of financial trust. Mr. Polk, under other and adverse influence, saw fit to disregard Mr. Wright's counsel, and selected William L. Marcy, who was hostile to Wright, and distrusted by Van Buren, for Secretary of War. From that moment the fate of Mr. Polk as candidate for re-election was sealed. The cause might seem inadequate, but the effect was undeniable. The Democratic party at the outbreak of the civil war, sixteen years afterwards, had not wholly recovered from the divisions and strifes which sprung from the disregard of Mr. Van Buren's wishes at that crisis. No appointment to Mr. Polk's cabinet could have been more distasteful than that of Mr. Marcy. He had lost the State during Mr. Van Buren's Presidency in the contest for the governorship against Mr. Seward in 1838, and thus laid the foundation, as Mr. Van Buren believed, for his own disastrous defeat in 1840. The disputes which arose from Marcy's appointment in the cabinet led to Wright's defeat for re-election in 1846, when John Young, the Whig candidate, was chosen governor of New York. To three men in the cabinet the friends of Mr. Wright ascribed the Democratic overthrow,--Mr. Buchanan, Mr. Robert J. Walker, and Mr. Marcy,-- each anxious for the Presidency, and each feeling that Mr. Wright was in his way. Mr. Wright died suddenly the year after his defeat, and it was supposed for a time that harmony in the New-York Democracy might be restored over his grave. But his friends survived, and their grief was the measure of their resentment.

The course of events which disabled Mr. Polk as a candidate proved equally decisive against all the members of his cabinet; and by the process of exclusion rather than by an enthusiastic desire among the people, and still less among the leaders, General Cass was selected by the Democratic Convention as candidate for the Presidency, and William O. Butler of Kentucky for the Vice-Presidency. The Democracy of New York, in consequence of the divisions arising under the governorship of Mr. Wright, sent two full delegations to the convention, bearing credentials from separate organizations. The friends of Mr. Marcy bore the name of Hunkers; the followers of Mr. Wright ranged themselves under the title of Barnburners,-- distinctions which had prevailed for some years in New York. It was in fact the old division on the annexation of Texas, and now represented the pro-slavery and the anti-slavery wing of the Democratic party. The National Convention sought in vain to bridge the difficulty by admitting both delegations, giving to them united the right to cast the vote of the State. But the Barnburners declined thus to compromise a principle. On a question of bread, the half-loaf is preferable to starvation, but when political honor and deep personal feeling are involved, so material an adjustment is not practicable. The Barnburners retired from the convention, disclaimed all responsibility for its conclusions, and proceeded in due time to organize against the ticket of Cass and Butler. The Hunkers, left in the convention as the sole representatives of the New-York Democracy, were startled at the situation and declined to vote. They were anxious that the nomination of Cass should not appear to be forced on the Barnburners by the rival faction. It thus happened that New York, which for twenty years under the skillful leadership of Mr. Van Buren had dictated the course of the Democracy, was now so shorn of influence through the factions engendered by his defeat, that a Presidential nomination was made, not only without her lead, but without her aid or participation.

CASS BOLTED BY VAN BUREN'S FRIENDS.

The Democratic candidate was a man of high character. He had served creditably in the early part of the war of 1812, had been governor of Michigan Territory from 1813 to 1831, had been five years Secretary of War under General Jackson, and had gone to France as minister in 1836. He remained at the court of Louis Philippe, where he received eminent consideration, for six years. When he returned to this country in 1842, at sixty years of age, he undoubtedly intended to re-enter political life. He landed at Boston, and was received with enthusiasm by the New-England Democrats, especially of that class who had not been in special favor during the long rule of Jackson and his successor. Popular ovations were arranged for him as he journeyed westward, and, by the time he reached his home in Detroit, General Cass was publicly recognized as a candidate for the Presidency. These facts did not escape the jealous and watchful eye of Mr. Van Buren. He was aggrieved by the course of General Cass, feeling assured that its direct effect would be to injure himself, and not to promote the political fortunes of the General. But the rivalry continued to develop. Cass remained in the field, a persistent candidate for nomination, and in the end proved to be, perhaps, the most powerful factor in the combination which secured the triumph of Polk. He had deeply wounded Mr. Van Buren, and, as the latter thought, causelessly and cruelly. He had disregarded a personal and political friendship of thirty years' duration, and had sundered ties which life was too short to re- unite. Cass had gained no victory. He had only defeated old friends, and the hour of retribution was at hand.

When the delegation of Barnburners withdrew from the Baltimore Convention of 1848, they were obviously acting in harmony with Mr. Van Buren's wishes. Had they been admitted, according to their peremptory demand, as the sole delegation from New York, they could have defeated Cass in the convention, and forced the nomination of some new man unconnected with the grievances and enmities of 1844. But when the demand of the Barnburners was denied, and they were asked to make common cause with the assassins of Wright, as James S. Wadsworth had denominated the Hunkers, the indignantly shook the dust of the city from off their feet, returned to New York, and forthwith called a Democratic convention to meet at Utica on the 22d of June.

Before the time arrived for the Utica Convention to assemble, the anti-slavery revolt was widely extended, and was, apparently, no less against Taylor than against Cass. There was agitation in many States, and the Barnburners found that by uniting with the opposition against both the old parties, a most effective combination could be made. It was certain to profit them in New York, and it promised the special revenge which they desired in the defeat of Cass. The various local and State movements were merged in one great convention, which met at Buffalo on the 9th of August, with imposing demonstrations. Many of those composing it had held high rank in the old parties. Salmon P. Chase of Ohio was selected as president. The convention represented a genuine anti-slavery sentiment, and amid excitement and enthusiasm Martin Van Buren was nominated for President, and Charles Francis Adams for Vice-President. The Barnburners, the anti-slavery Whigs, and the old Abolitionists, co-operated with apparent harmony under the general name of the Free-soil party; and the impression with many when the convention adjourned was, that Mr. Van Buren would have a plurality over both Cass and Taylor in the State of New York. The management of the popular canvass was intrusted to Democratic partisans of the Silas Wright school, and this fact had a significant and unexpected influence upon the minds of anti-slavery Whigs.

In the first flush of the excitement, the supporters of the regular Democratic nominee were not alarmed. They argued, not illogically, that the Free-soil ticket would draw more largely from the Whigs than from the Democrats, and thus very probably injure Taylor more than Cass. But in a few weeks this hope was dispelled. The Whigs of the country had been engaged for a long period in an earnest political warfare against Mr. Van Buren. In New York the contest had been personal and acrimonious to the last degree, and ordinary human nature could hardly be expected the bury at once the grievances and resentments of a generation. Nor did the Whigs confide in the sincerity of Mr. Van Buren's anti-slavery conversion. His repentance was late, and even the most charitable suspected that his desire to punish Cass had entered largely into the motives which suddenly aroused him to the evils of slavery after forty years of quiet acquiescence in all the demands of the South. Mr. Seward, who possessed the unbounded confidence of the anti-slavery men of New York, led a most earnest canvass in favor of General Taylor, and was especially successful in influencing Whigs against Van Buren. In this he was aided by the organizing skill of Thurlow Weed, and by the editorial power of Horace Greeley. Perhaps in no other National election did three men so completely control the result. They gave the vote of New York to General Taylor, and made him President of the United States.

MR. WEBSTER'S MARSHFIELD SPEECH.

At an opportune moment for the success of the Whigs, Mr. Webster decided to support General Taylor. He thoroughly distrusted Cass, --not in point of integrity, but of discretion and sound judgment as a statesman. He had rebuked Cass severely in a diplomatic correspondence touching the Treaty of Washington, when he was Secretary of State and Cass minister to France. The impression then derived had convinced him that the Democratic candidate was not the man whom a Whig could desire to see in the Presidential chair. In Mr. Van Buren's anti-slavery professions, Mr. Webster had no confidence. He said pleasantly, but significantly, that "if he and Mr. Van Buren should meet under the Free-soil flag, the latter with his accustomed good-nature would laugh." He added, with a touch of characteristic humor, "that the leader of the Free- spoil party suddenly becoming the leader of the Free-soil party is a joke to shake his sides and mine." Distrusting him sincerely on the anti-slavery issue, Mr. Webster showed that on every other question Mr. Van Buren was throughly objectionable to the Whigs.

The Marshfield speech, as this effort was popularly known at the time, had great influence with the Northern Whigs. Mr. Webster did not conceal his belief that General Taylor's nomination was "one not fit to be made," but by the clearest of logic he demonstrated that he was infinitely to be preferred to either of his competitors. Mr. Webster at that time had the confidence of the anti-slavery Whigs in a large degree; he had voted for the Wilmot Proviso, and his public course had been that of a just and conservative expositor of their advanced opinion. From the day of the Marshfield speech, the belief was general that Van Buren would draw far more largely from the Democrats than from the Whigs; that his candidacy would give the State of New York to Taylor, and thus elect him President. The loss of Whig votes was not distasteful to Mr. Van Buren after the prospect of his securing the electors of New York had vanished. Had he drawn in equal proportion from the two parties, his candidacy would have had no effect. It would have neutralized itself, and left the contest between Cass and Taylor as though he had not entered the race. By a rule of influence, whose working is obvious, the tenacity of the Democratic adherents of Van Buren increased as the Whigs withdrew. The contest between Cass and Van Buren finally became in New York, in very large degree, a struggle between Democratic factions, in which the anti-slavery profession was an instrumentality to be temporarily used, and not a principle to be permanently upheld. As the Whigs left Van Buren, the Democrats left Cass, and the end of the canvass gave a full measure of satisfaction, not only to the supporters of Taylor, but to the followers of Van Buren, who polled a larger vote for him than was given to Cass. New York, as in 1844, decided the contest. The friends of Van Buren had not simply beaten Cass at the polls, they had discredited him as a party leader. In the pithy phrase of John Van Buren, they had exposed him to the country as the candidate "powerful for mischief, powerless for good."

The total vote of New York was, for Taylor, 218,603; for Cass, 114,318; for Van Buren, 120,510. The canvass for the governorship was scarcely less exciting than that for the Presidency. Hamilton Fish was the Whig candidate; John A. Dix, then a senator of the United States, ran as the representative of Mr. Van Buren's Free- soil party; while the eminent Chancellor Walworth, who had recently lost his judicial position, was nominated as a supporter of Cass by the Regular Democracy. Mr. Fish had been candidate for Lieutenant- governor two years before on the Whig ticket with John Young, and was defeated because of his outspoken views against the Anti-Renters. Those radical agitators instinctively knew that the descendant of Stuyvesant would support the inherited rights of the Van Rensselaers, and therefore defeated Mr. Fish while they elected the Whig candidates for other offices. Mr. Fish now had his abundant reward in receiving as large a vote as General Taylor, and securing nearly one hundred thousand plurality over the Van Buren candidate, while he in turn received a small plurality over the representative of General Cass.

The result of the two contests left the Van Buren wing, or the Barnburners, in majority over the Hunkers, and gave them an advantage in future contests for supremacy, inside the party. Truthful history will hold this to have been the chief object of the struggle with many who vowed allegiance at Buffalo to an anti-slavery creed strong enough to satisfy Joshua R. Giddings and Charles Sumner. With Cass defeated, and the Marcy wing of the party severely disciplined, the great mass of the Van Buren host of 1848 were ready to disavow their political escapade at Buffalo. Dean Richmond, Samuel J. Tilden, John Van Buren, C. C. Cambreleng, and Sanford E. Church, forgot their anti-slavery professions, reunited with the old party, and vowed afresh their fidelity to every principle against which they had so earnestly protested. Mr. Van Buren himself went with them, and to the end of his life maintained a consistent pro-slavery record, which, throughout a long public career was varied only by the insincere professions which he found it necessary to make in order to be revenged on Cass. But it would be unjust to include in this condemnation all the New-York Democrats who went into the Buffalo movement. Many were honest and earnest, and in after life followed the principles which they had then professed. Chief among these may be reckoned Preston King, who exerted a powerful influence in the anti-slavery advances of after years, and James S. Wadsworth, who gave his name, and generously of his wealth, to the cause, and finally sealed his devotion with his blood on the battle-field of the Wilderness.

CHARACTER OF MR. VAN BUREN.

Mr. Van Buren spent the remainder of his life in dignified retirement --surviving until his eightieth year, in 1862. In point of mere intellectual force, he must rank below the really eminent men with whom he was so long associated in public life. But he was able, industrious, and, in political management, clever beyond any man who has thus far appeared in American politics. He had extraordinary tact in commending himself to the favor and confidence of the people. Succeeding to political primacy in New York on the death of De Witt Clinton in 1828, he held absolute control of his party for twenty years, and was finally overthrown by causes whose origin was beyond the limits of his personal influence. He stood on the dividing-line between the mere politician and the statesman,-- perfect in the arts of the one, possessing largely the comprehensive power of the other. His active career began in 1812, and ended in 1848. During the intervening period he had served in the Legislature of New York, had been a member of the Constitutional Convention of 1820, had been attorney-general of the State, and had been chosen its governor. In the national field he had been senator of the United States, Secretary of State, minister to England, Vice- President, and President. No other man in the country has held so many great places. He filled them all with competency and with power, but marred his illustrious record by the political episode of 1848, in which, though he may have had some justification for revenge on unfaithful associates in his old party, he had none for his lack of fidelity to new friends, and for his abandonment of a sacred principle which he had pledged himself to uphold.

[* NOTE.--An error of statement occurs on page 72, Volume I, in regard to the action of the Whig caucus for Speaker in December, 1847. Mr. Winthrop was chosen after Mr. Vinton had declined, and was warmly supported by Mr. Vinton. The error came from an incorrect account of the caucus in a newspaper of that time.]

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Chapter V

Review (continued).--Contrast between General Taylor and General Cass.--The Cabinet of President Taylor.--Political Condition of the Country.--Effect produced by the Discovery of Gold in California. --Convening of Thirty-first Congress.--Election of Howell Cobb as Speaker.--President Taylor's Message.--His Recommendations Distasteful to the South.--Illustrious Membership of the Senate.--Mr. Clay and the Taylor Administration.--Mr. Calhoun's Last Speech in the Senate. --His Death.--His Character and Public Services.--Mr. Webster's 7th of March Speech.--Its Effect upon the Public and upon Mr. Webster.--Mr. Clay's Committee of Thirteen.--The Omnibus Bill.-- Conflict with General Taylor's Administration.--Death of the President.--Mr. Fillmore reverses Taylor's Policy and supports the Compromise Measures.--Defeat of Compromise Bill.--Passage of the Measures separately.--Memorable Session of Congress.--Whig and Democratic Parties sustain the Compromise Measures.--National Conventions.--Whigs nominate Winfield Scott over Fillmore.--Mr. Clay supports Fillmore.--Mr. Webster's Friends.--Democrats nominate Franklin Pierce.--Character of the Campaign.--Overwhelming Defeat of Scott.--Destruction of the Whig Party.--Death of Mr. Clay.-- Death of Mr. Webster.--Their Public Characters and Services compared.

With the election of General Taylor, the various issues of the slavery question were left undecided and unchanged. Indeed, the progress of the canvass had presented a political anomaly. General Cass was born in New England of Puritan stock. All his mature life had been spent in the free North-West. He was a lawyer, a statesman, always a civilian, except for a single year in the volunteer service of 1812. General Taylor was born in Virginia, was reared in Kentucky, was a soldier by profession from his earliest years of manhood, had passed all his life in the South, was a resident of Louisiana, engaged in planting, and was the owner of a large number of slaves. Yet in the face of these facts General Cass ran as the distinctively pro-slavery candidate, and General Taylor received three-fourths of the votes of New England, and was supported throughout the North by the anti-slavery Whigs, who accepted William H. Seward as a leader and Horace Greeley as an exponent. But his contradiction was apparent, not real. It was soon found that the confidence of the Northern men who voted for Taylor had not been misplaced.

CABINET OF PRESIDENT TAYLOR.

As his inauguration approached, the anxiety in regard to his public policy grew almost painfully intense throughout the country. There had never been a cabinet organized in which so deep an interest was felt,--an interest which did not attach so much to the persons who might compose it as to the side--pro-slavery or anti-slavery-- to which the balance might incline. When the names were announced, it was found that four were from the south side of Mason and Dixon's line, and three from the north side. But a review of the political character of the members showed that the decided weight of influence was with the North. John M. Clayton of Delaware, Secretary of State, nominally from the South, had voted for the Wilmot Proviso, and had defended his action with commanding ability. William M. Meredith of Pennsylvania was one of the ablest lawyers of the country, a scholar, a wit, an orator; his training had not, however, fitted him for the Treasury Department to which he was called. Thomas Ewing of Ohio, selected to organize the Department of the Interior, just then authorized by law, was a man of intellectual power, a lawyer of the first rank, possessing a stainless character, great moral courage, unbending will, an incisive style, both with tongue and pen, and a breadth of reading and wealth of information never surpassed by any public man in America. Jacob Collamer of Vermont, Postmaster-general, was an able, wise, just, and firm man, stern in principle, conservative in action. The Attorney-general was Reverdy Johnson of Maryland, an ardent Whig partisan, distinguished in his profession, born and living in a slave State, but firmly devoted to the Union, as in later life he abundantly proved. The pronounced Southern sentiment, as represented by Toombs and Stephens, had but two representatives in the cabinet,--George W. Crawford of Georgia (nephew of the eminent William H. Crawford), Secretary of War; and William Ballard Preston of Virginia, Secretary of the Navy,--able and upright men, but less distinguished than their associates.

The country was in an expectant and restless condition. The pro- slavery leaders, who had counted upon large political gain to their section by the acquisition of territory from Mexico, were somewhat discouraged, and began to fear that the South had sown, and that the North would reap. They had hoped to establish their right by positive legislation to enter all the territories with slave property. If they should fail in this, they believed with all confidence, and had good reason at the time for their faith, that they would be able to carry the line of 36 deg. 30' to the Pacific by an extension of the Missouri Compromise of 1820, and that in this way the political strength of their section would be vastly enhanced. But not long after the signing of the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, an event happened which put to naught the anticipations of Southern statesmen. Gold was discovered in California late in the autumn of 1848, and by one of those marvels of emigration which the Anglo- Saxon race have more than once achieved, the Pacific slope was immediately filled with a hardy, resolute, intelligent population. In less than a year they organized a State government, adopted a constitution in which slavery was forever prohibited, and were ready by the close of 1849 to apply for admission to the Union. The inhabitants had no powers of civil government conferred by Congress; the only authority exercised by the United States being that of Colonel Bennett Riley of the regular army, who had been placed in command immediately after the Treaty of Peace by President Polk, and who was left undisturbed by President Taylor.

Congress convened on the first Monday of December, 1849, amid deep feeling, rapidly growing into excitement throughout the country. For three weeks the House was unable to organize by the choice of a speaker. The Democratic candidate was Howell Cobb; the Whig candidate, Robert C. Winthrop. The contest was finally settled on the sixty-third ballot, in accordance with a previous agreement that a plurality should elect. Mr. Cobb received one hundred and two votes; Mr. Winthrop ninety-nine, with twenty votes scattering, principally anti-slavery Whigs and Free-Soilers. It was the first time that such a step had been taken; and its constitutionality was so doubtful, that after the ballot, a resolution declaring Mr. Cobb to be speaker was adopted by general concurrence on a yea and nay vote.

The message of the President was immediately transmitted, and proved a tower of strength to the friends of the Union, and a heavy blow to the secession element, which was rampant in Congress. The President recommended that California, with her constitution, already known to be anti-slavery, be promptly admitted to the Union. He also suggested that New Mexico, already better protected in property, life, liberty, and religion than she had ever been before, be quietly left under her existing military government until she should form a State constitution, and apply for admission,--an event deemed probable in the very near future. That accomplished, as he added in a special message a few days later, the claims of Texas to a portion of New Mexico could be judicially determined, which could not be done while New Mexico remained a territory, organized or unorganized. These recommendations were intensely distasteful to the South, and grew to be correspondingly popular in the North. The sectional feeling rapidly developed and the agitation in Congress communicated itself to the entire country.

THE UNITED STATES SENATE IN 1850.

The character and eminence of the men who took part in the discussion gave it an intense, almost dramatic interest. Mr. Clay in his seventy-third year was again in the Senate by the unanimous vote of the Kentucky Legislature, in the belief that his patriotic influence was needed in the impending crisis. Webster and Cass, natives of the same New-England State, Benton and Calhoun, natives of the Carolinas, all born the same year and now approaching threescore and ten, represented in their own persons almost every phase of the impending contest. Stephen A. Douglas had entered the preceding Congress at the early age of thirty-four, and the ardent young Irish soldier, James Shields, was now his colleague. Jefferson Davis had come from Mississippi with the brilliant record of his achievements in the Mexican war, already ambitious to succeed Mr. Calhoun as the leader of the extreme South, but foiled in his Disunion schemes by his eloquent but erratic colleague, Henry S. Foote. William H. Seward of New York was for the first time taking position under the National Government, at the age of forty-nine, and Salmon P. Chase of Ohio, five years younger, was beginning his political career as the colleague of Thomas Corwin. John Bell was still honorably serving Tennessee, and John McPherson Berrien was still honoring Georgia by his service. The amiable and excellent William R. King, who had entered the Senate when Alabama was admitted in 1819, and who was Colonel Benton's senior in service by two years when he resigned in 1844 to accept the French mission, now returned, and remained until he was chosen Vice-President in 1852. Hannibal Hamlin had entered the preceding year, and was still leading a bitter fight on the slavery question against a formidable element in his own party headed at home by Nathan Clifford and represented in the Senate by his colleague, James W. Bradbury. John P. Hale, a New-Hampshire Democrat whom Franklin Pierce had attempted to discipline because as representative in Congress he had opposed the annexation of Texas, had beaten Pierce before the people, defied the Democratic party, and was promoted to the Senate an outspoken Free-Soiler. Willie P. Mangum and George E. Badger, able, graceful, experienced statesmen, represented the steadfast Union sentiment of the "Old North State" Whigs; while Andrew P. Butler, impulsive and generous, learned and able, embodied all the heresies of the South-Carolina Nullifiers. James M. Mason, who seemed to court the hatred of the North, and Robert M. T. Hunter, who had the cordial respect of all sections, spoke for Virginia. Pierre Soule came from Louisiana, eloquent even in a language he could not pronounce, but better fitted by temperament for the turbulence of a revolutionary assembly in his native land than for the decorous conservatism of the American Senate. Sam Houston was present from Texas, with a history full of adventure and singular fortune, while his colleague, Thomas J. Rusk, was daily increasing a reputation which had already marked him in the judgment of Mr. Webster as first among the younger statesmen of the South. Dodge of Wisconsin and Dodge of Iowa, father and son, represented the Democracy of the remotest outposts in the North-West, and, most striking of all, William M. Gwin and John C. Fremont, men of Southern birth and pro-slavery training, stood at the door of the Senate with the constitution of California in their hands to demand her admission to the Union as a free State. At no time before or since in the history of the Senate has its membership been so illustrious, its weight of character and ability so great. The period marked the meeting and dividing line between two generations of statesmen. The eminent men who had succeeded the leaders of the Revolutionary era were passing away, but the most brilliant of their number were still lingering, unabated in natural force, resplendent in personal fame. Their successors in public responsibility, if not their equals in public regard and confidence, were already upon the stage preparing for, and destined to act in, the bloodiest and most memorable of civil struggles.

Mr. Clay had re-entered the Senate with no cordial feelings toward President Taylor's administration. The events of the preceding year were too fresh, the wounds too deep, to be readily forgotten or quickly healed. But he desired no quarrel and was incapable of showing petty resentment. His mind was intent on harmonizing the serious differences between North and South, and he believed the President's plan would fall short and fail. He desired, in the same spirit of compromise which had been so distinguishing a mark of his statesmanship in former crises, to secure "an amicable arrangement of all questions in controversy between the free and slave States growing out of the subject of slavery." He was so accustomed to lead, that the senators involuntarily waited for him to open the discussion and point the way. He as naturally accepted the responsibility, and in January (1850) began by submitting a series of resolutions reciting the measures which were necessary for the pacification of all strife in the country. These resolutions embraced the admission of California; governments for the territory acquired from Mexico without prohibition or permission of slavery; adjustment of the disputed boundary of Texas and the allowance of ten millions of dollars to that State for the payment of her debt; the abolition of the slave trade in the District of Columbia; more effectual provision for the restitution of fugitive slaves.

DEATH OF JOHN C. CALHOUN.

It was on these resolutions that Mr. Calhoun prepared his last formal speech. He attempted to deliver it in the Senate on the 4th of March, but was so weak that he requested Mr. Mason of Virginia to read it for him. On two or three subsequent occasions Mr. Calhoun made brief extempore remarks showing each time a gradual decay of strength. He died on the last day of March. Most touching and appreciative eulogies were delivered by Mr. Clay and Mr. Webster, after his death had been announced by his colleague, Judge Butler. Mr. Clay spoke of his "transcendent talents," of his "clear, concise, compact logic," of his "felicity in generalization surpassed by no one." He intimated that he would have been glad to see Mr. Calhoun succeed Mr. Monroe in the Presidency in 1820. Mr. Webster, who always measured his words, spoke of him as "a man of undoubted genius and commanding talent, of unspotted integrity, of unimpeached honor." Mr. Calhoun had been driven by his controversies with Jackson into a position where he was deprived of popular strength in the free States. But this very fact enhanced his power with the South, and increased his hold upon his own people. To the majority of the people in the slave-holding States he was as an inspired leader for more than twenty years. He taught the philosophy and supplied the arguments to the ambitious generation of public men who came after him, and who were prepared, as he was not, to force the issue to the arbitrament of arms. Deplorable as was the end to which his teachings led, he could not have acquired the influence he wielded over millions of men unless he had been gifted with acute intellect, distinguished by moral excellence, and inspired by the sincerest belief in the righteousness of his cause. History will adjudge him to have been single-hearted and honest in his political creed. It will equally adjudge him to have been wrong in his theory of the Federal Government, and dead to the awakened sentiment of Christendom in his views concerning the enslavement of man.

Mr. Calhoun's published works show the extent of his participation in the national councils. They exhibit his zeal, the intensity of his convictions, and at the same time the clearness and strength of his logic. His premises once admitted, it is difficult to resist the force of his conclusions. Mr. Webster assailed his premises, and in their debate of February 16, 1833, defeated him, as another senator remarked, "by the acuteness of his definitions,"--thus meeting Mr. Calhoun on his own ground. The war and its results have in large degree remanded the theories of Mr. Calhoun to the past, but no intelligent student of the institutions of the United States can afford to neglect his elaborate, conscientious, able discussions. Taken with Mr. Webster's works they exhibit the most complete examination, the most comprehensive analysis of the often tortuous and ill-defined line which separates the powers of the National Government from the functions which properly belong to the States. Mr. Calhoun's public service may be regarded as continuous from 1810, when he was elected to Congress at twenty- eight years of age, till his death,--a period of forty years. He took his seat in the House in December, 1811, and was placed by the speaker, Mr. Clay (with whom he was then in accord), on the Committee of Foreign Affairs. He was earnest and influential in supporting the war policy of the Madison administration, and gained so rapidly in public estimation that six years later he was appointed secretary of War by President Monroe. Thenceforward his career was illustrious. As Vice-President, as secretary of State, above all as senator from South Carolina, he gained lasting renown. His life was eminently pure, his career exceptional, his fame established beyond the reach of calumny, beyond the power of detraction.

MR. WEBSTER'S 7TH OF MARCH SPEECH.

Continuing the discussion invited by Mr. Clay's resolutions, Mr. Webster delivered, on the 7th of March, the memorable speech which cost him the loss of so many of his staunch and lifelong friends. The anti-slavery Whigs of the North, who, as the discussion went on, had waited to be vindicated by the commanding argument of Mr. Webster, were dismayed and cast down by his unexpected utterance. Instead of arraigning the propagandists of slavery, he arraigned its opponents. Instead of indicting the Disunionists of the South, the poured out his wrath upon the Abolitionists of the North. He maintained that the North had unduly exaggerated the dangers of slavery extension at this crisis. California was coming in as a free State. Texas, north of 36 deg. 30', if her boundary should extend so far, had been declared free in the articles of annexation. In the mountainous and sterile character of New Mexico and Utah he found a stronger prohibition of slavery than in any possible ordinance, enactment, or proviso placed on the statute-book by Congress. He would not, therefore, "re-enact the Law of God." He would not force a quarrel with the South when nothing was to be gained. He would not irritate or causelessly wound the feelings of those who were just beginning to realize that they had lost in the issue put at stake in the Mexican war. The speech undoubtedly had great influence in the North, and caused many anti-slavery men to turn back. But on the other hand, it embittered thousands who pressed forward with sturdy principle and with a quickened zeal, not unmixed with resentment and a sense of betrayal. In many parts of the country, and especially in the Middle and Southern States, the speech was received with enthusiastic approval. But in New England, the loss of whose good opinion could not be compensated to Mr. Webster by the applause of a world outside, he never regained his hold upon the popular affection. New friends came to him, but they did not supply the place of the old friends, who for a lifetime had stood by him with unswerving principle and with ever-increasing pride.

Excitement and passion do not, however, always issue decrees and pronounce judgments of absolute right. In the zeal of that hour, Northern anti-slavery opinion failed to appreciate the influence which wrought so powerfully on the mind of Mr. Webster. He belonged with those who could remember the first President, who personally knew much of the hardships and sorrows of the Revolutionary period, who were born to poverty and reared in privation. To these, the formation of the Federal Government had come as a gift from Heaven, and they had heard from the lips of the living Washington in his farewell words, that "the Union is the edifice of our real independence, the support of our tranquillity at home, our peace abroad, our prosperity, our safety, and of the very liberty which we so highly prize, that for this Union we should cherish a cordial, habitual, immovable attachment, and should discountenance whatever may suggest even a suspicion that it can in any event be abandoned." Mr. Webster had in his own lifetime seen the thirteen colonies grow into thirty powerful States. He had seen three millions of people, enfeebled and impoverished by a long struggle, increased eightfold in number, surrounded by all the comforts, charms, and securities of life. All this spoke to him of the Union and of its priceless blessings. He now heard its advantages discussed, its perpetuity doubted, its existence threatened. A convention of slave-holding States had been called, to meet at Nashville, for the purpose of considering the possible separation of the sections. Mr. Webster felt that a generation had been born who were undervaluing their inheritance, and who might, by temerity, destroy it. Under motives inspired by these surroundings, he spoke for the preservation of the Union. He believed it to be seriously endangered. His apprehensions were ridiculed by many who, ten years after Mr. Webster was in his grave, saw for the first time how real and how terrible were the perils upon which those apprehensions were founded.

When the hour of actual conflict came, every patriot realized that a great magazine of strength for the Union was stored in the teachings of Mr. Webster. For thirty years preceding the Nullification troubles in South Carolina, the government had been administered on the States'-rights theory, in which the power of the nation was subordinated, and its capacity to subdue the revolt of seceding States was dangerously weakened. His speech in reply to Hayne in 1830 was like an amendment to the Constitution. It corrected traditions, changed convictions, revolutionized conclusions. It gave to the friends of the Union the abundant logic which established the right and the power of the government to preserve itself. A fame so lofty, a work so grand, cannot be marred by one mistake, if mistake it be conceded. The thoughtful reconsideration of his severest critics must allow that Mr. Webster saw before him a divided duty, and that he chose the part which in his patriotic judgment was demanded by the supreme danger of the hour.

Mr. Clay's resolutions were referred to a special committee of thirteen, of which he was made chairman. They reported a bill embracing the principal objects contemplated in his original speech. The discussion on this composite measure was earnest and prolonged, and between certain senators became exasperating. The Administration, through its newspapers, through the declarations of its Cabinet minsters, through the unreserved expressions of President Taylor himself, showed persistent hostility to Mr. Clay's Omnibus Bill, as it was derisively and offensively called. Mr. Clay, in turn, did not conceal his hostility to the mode of adjustment proposed in the messages of the President, and defended his own with vigor and eloquence. Reciting the measures demanded for a fair and lasting settlement, he said there were five wounds, bleeding and threatening the body politic, all needing to be healed, while the President proposed to heal but one. He described the wounds, numbering them carefully on his fingers as he spoke. Colonel Benton, who was vindictively opposed to the Omnibus Bill, made sport of the five gaping wounds, and believed that Mr. Clay would have found more wounds if he had had more fingers. This strife naturally grew more and more severe, making for a time a somewhat serious division among the Democrats, and rending the Whig party asunder, one section following Mr. Clay with great zeal, the other adhering with tenacity to the administration.

DEATH OF PRESIDENT TAYLOR.

The quarrel was growing fiercer day by day, and involving all shades of political opinion, when it was suddenly arrested by the death of General Taylor on the 9th of July (1850). This sad event gave the opportunity for the success of the Compromise measures. Had General Taylor lived, their defeat was assured. As a Southern man, coming from a Gulf State, personally interested in the institution of slavery, he had a vantage-ground in the struggle which a Northern President could never attain. He had, moreover, the courage and the intelligence to uphold his principles, even in a controversy with Mr. Clay. His ignorance of political and civil affairs has been grossly exaggerated. Without taking part in politics, he had been a close observer of events, and his prolonged services at frontier posts had afforded the leisure and enforced the taste for reading. He knew not only the public measures, but the public men of his time closely and appreciatively. He surprised a member of his cabinet on a certain occasion, by objecting to a proposed appointment on the ground that the man designated had voted for Benton's expunging resolution at the close of Jackson's administration, --an offense which the President would not condone. The seven members of his cabinet, actively engaged in politics all their lives, had forgotten an important fact which the President instinctively remembered.

Long before General Taylor's death it was known that Mr. Fillmore did not sympathize with the policy of the administration. He had been among the most advanced of anti-slavery Whigs during his service in the House of Representatives, and was placed on the Taylor ticket as a conciliatory candidate, to hold to their allegiance that large class of Whigs who resented the nomination of a Louisiana slave-holder. But from the day he was sworn in as Vice-President his antipathy to Mr. Seward began to develop. With the conceded ability of the latter, and with his constant opportunity on the floor of the Senate, where he won laurels from the day of his entrance, Mr. Fillmore felt that he would himself be subordinated and lost in the crowd of followers if he coincided with Seward. Older in years, long senior to Mr. Seward in the national service, he apparently could not endure to see himself displaced by a more brilliant and more capable leader. The two men, therefore, gradually separated; Mr. Fillmore using what influence he possessed as Vice- President in favor of Mr. Clay's plan of compromise, while Mr. Seward became the Northern leader of the Administration Whigs,--a remarkable if not unprecedented advance for a senator in the first session of his service.

In succeeding to the Presidency, Mr. Fillmore naturally gave the full influence of his administration to the Compromise. To signalize his position, he appointed Mr. Webster secretary of State, and placed Mr. Corwin of Ohio at the head of the Treasury. Mr. Corwin, with a strong anti-slavery record, had been recently drifting in the opposite direction, and his appointment was significant. It was too late, however, to save the Omnibus Bill as a whole. The Taylor administration had damaged it too seriously to permit an effectual revival in its favor. It was finally destroyed the last week in July by striking out in detail every provision except the bill for the organization of the Territory of Utah. After the Utah bill had been enacted, separate bills followed;--for the admission of California; for the organization of New Mexico, with the same condition respecting slavery which had been applied to Utah; for the adjustment of the Texas boundary, and the payment to that State of ten millions indemnity; for the more effectual recovery of fugitive slaves; for the abolition of the slave trade in the District of Columbia. Congress thus enacted separately the bills which it refused to enact together, and the policy outlined by Mr. Clay at the beginning of the session had triumphed. Several Southern senators joined Jefferson Davis in strenuous resistance to the admission of California with the boundaries prescribed. After seeking ineffectually to make the line of 36 deg. 30' the southern limit of the State, they attempted with equal lack of success to enter a solemn protest on the journal of the Senate against the wrong done to the slave-holding States in giving the entire Pacific coast to freedom. It was a last and hopeless movement of the Southern Hotspurs. The protest, at first discredited, was speedily forgotten, and California entered the Union after ten months of angry controversy, with slavery forever excluded from her imperial domain.

THE FINALITY OF THE COMPROMISE.

The session had been in all respects important and memorable. In the judgment of many it had been critical, and the dangers attending its action were increased by the death of General Taylor. The South would endure from him what they would resent and possibly resist if imposed by an anti-slavery Whig from the North. This fact had, doubtless, great influence in shaping the policy of Mr. Fillmore, both as Vice-President and President. The events of the session marred and made the reputation of many. Four senators especially, of the younger class, had laid the foundation of their prominence in the struggles of after years,--Mr. Seward as an anti- slavery Whig, Mr. Chase as a Free-Soiler, previously of Democratic affiliations, Mr. Jefferson Davis as a Southern Democrat, and Mr. Douglas as a Northern Democrat. Calhoun was dead. Clay and Webster and Cass and Benton were near the end of their illustrious careers. New men were thenceforth to guide the policy of the Republic, and among the new men in a Senate of exceptional ability these four attained the largest fame, secured the strongest constituencies, and exerted the widest influence.

Both political parties began at once to take ground in favor of the Compromise measures as a final and complete adjustment of the slavery question. The Southern Whigs under Mr. Clay's lead eagerly assumed that conclusion. Mr. Fillmore, having approved all the bills separately which taken together formed the Compromise, was of course strongly in favor of regarding these measures as a finality. Mr. Webster took the same view, though from a bill he had prepared before he left the Senate for the rendition of fugitive slaves, guaranteeing jury-trial to the fugitive, it is hardly conceivable that he would have voted for the harsh measure that was enacted. Mr. Corwin to the surprise of his friends had passed over from the most radical to the ultra-conservative side on the slavery question, and it was his change, in addition to that of Mr. Webster, which had given so brilliant an opportunity to Mr. Seward as the leader of the Northern Whigs. Mr. Corwin was irretrievably injured by a course so flatly in contradiction of his previous action. He lost the support and largely forfeited the confidence of the Ohio Whigs, who in 1848 had looked upon him as a possible if not probable candidate for the Presidency.

But against this surrender to the Compromise measures of 1850, the Whigs who followed Seward and Wade and Thaddeus Stevens and Fessenden were earnest and active. Stevens was then a member of the House and had waged bitter war against the measures. Wade and Fessenden had not yet entered the Senate, but were powerful leaders in their respective States. These men had not given up the creed which demanded an anti-slavery restriction on every inch of soil owned by the United States. They viewed with abhorrence the legislation which had placed freedom and slavery on the same plane in the Territories of Utah and New Mexico. They believed that Texas had been paid for a baseless claim ten millions of dollars, one-half of which, as a sharp critic declared, was hush-money, the other half blood-money. They regarded the cruel law for the return of fugitive slaves as an abomination in the sight of God and man. In their judgment it violated every principle of right. It allowed the personal liberty of a man to be peremptorily decided by a United- States commissioner, acting with absolute power and without appeal. For a claim exceeding twenty dollars in value, every citizen has the right to a trial by jury; but by this law the body, the life, the very soul of a man, possibly a free-born citizen, might be consigned to perpetual enslavement on the fallible judgment of a single official. An apparently slight, yet especially odious feature of the law which served in large degree to render it inoperative was that the United-States commissioner, in the event of his remanding the alleged fugitive to slavery, received a fee of ten dollars, and, if he adjudged him to be free, received only five dollars.

It soon became evident that with the Whigs divided and the Democrats compactly united upon the finality of the Compromise, the latter would have the advantage in the ensuing Presidential election. The tendency would naturally be to consolidate the slave-holding States in support of the Democratic candidates, because that party had a large, well-organized force throughout the North cherishing the same principles, co-operating for the same candidates, and controlling many, if not a majority, of the free States. The Southern Whigs, equally earnest with the Democrats for the Compromise, were constantly injured at home by the outspoken anti-slavery principles of leading Northern Whigs. Just at that point of time and from the cause indicated began the formation of parties divided on the geographical line between North and South. But this result was as yet only foreshadowed, not developed. Both the old parties held their national conventions as usual, in 1852, with every State represented in both by full delegations. There were peculiar troubles in each. In the Democratic convention the dissensions had been in large part inherited, and had reference more to persons than to principles, more to the candidate than to the platform. While something of the same trouble was visible in the Whig ranks, the chief source of contention and of party weakness was found in the irreconcilable difference of principle between all the Southern Whigs and a large number of the Northern Whigs. In the South they were unanimous in support of the Compromise. In the North they were divided.

DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL CONVENTION.

The Democratic National Convention met in Baltimore on the first day of June, 1852. General Cass, though he had reached his seventieth year, was again in the field. Mr. Buchanan, then sixty-one years of age, was the candidate next in strength, and Stephen A. Douglas was third. Douglas was but thirty-nine years old, the youngest man ever formally presented for the Presidency by a State delegation in a National convention. Governor Marcy was fourth in the order of strength. There were scattering votes for other candidates, but these four were seriously and hopefully urged by their respective supporters. Marcy was in many respects the fittest man to be nominated, but the fear was that the old dissensions of the New- York Democracy, now seemingly healed, would open afresh if the chief of one of the clans should be imposed on the other. Douglas was injured by his partial committal to what was known as the doctrine of "manifest destiny,"--the indefinite acquisition of territory southward, especially in the direction of the West Indies. Cass was too old. Buchanan lacked personal popularity; and, while he had the Pennsylvania delegation in his favor, a host of enemies from that State, outside the convention, warred against him most bitterly. No one of these eminent men could secure two-thirds of the delegates as required by the iron rule, and on the forty-ninth ballot Franklin Pierce of New Hampshire, who had been among the "scattering" on several preceding votes, was unanimously nominated. The suggestion of Pierce's name was not so spontaneous and sudden as it was made to appear. The precise condition of affairs was discerned before the convention met, and some sagacious and far- seeing men, among whom the late Caleb Cushing was one, and General Benjamin F. Butler another, had canvassed the merits of Pierce before the convention met. They saw that from his record in Congress he would be entirely acceptable to the South, and at the opportune moment their plans were perfected and Pierce was nominated with a great show of enthusiasm. William R. King of Alabama was selected to run as Vice-President.

General Pierce had many qualities that rendered him a strong candidate. He had served with credit if not distinction both in the House and the Senate. He was elected to the House in 1832, when he was but twenty-eight years of age, and resigned his seat in the Senate in 1842. In the ten years which intervened before his nomination for the Presidency, he had devoted himself to the law with brilliant success, leaving it only for his short service in the Mexican war. He was still a young man when he was preferred to all the prominent statesmen of his party as a Presidential candidate. He was remarkably attractive in personal appearance, prepossessing in manner, ready and even eloquent as a public speaker, fluent and graceful in conversation. He presented thus a rare combination of the qualities which attach friends and win popular support.

The platform of principles enunciated by the convention was just what the South desired and demanded. The entire interest centred in the slavery question. Indeed, the declarations upon other issues were not listened to by the delegates, and were scarcely read by the public. Without a dissenting voice the convention resolved that "all efforts of the Abolitionists or others to induce Congress to interfere with questions of slavery or to take incipient steps in relation thereto, are calculated to lead to the most alarming and dangerous consequences." The Compromise measures, including the fugitive-slave law, which was specially named, were most heartily indorsed, and were regarded as an adjustment of the whole controversy. By way of indicting how full, complete, and final the settlement was, the convention with unrestrained enthusiasm declared that "the Democratic party will resist all attempts at renewing, in Congress or out of it, the agitation of the slavery question, under whatever shape or color the attempts may be made." Among the men who joined in these declarations were not a few who had supported Van Buren and Adams in the canvass of 1848. One of the prominent officers of the convention was the author of many of the most extreme anti- slavery declarations put forth at Buffalo.

WHIG NATIONAL CONVENTION.

The Whigs met at Baltimore a fortnight after the Democratic convention had adjourned. The slavery question, upon which the Democrats of all shades had so cordially coalesced, was to the Whigs a dividing sword. Mr. Fillmore was a candidate, supported with almost entire unanimity by the Southern Whigs. Mr. Webster was a candidate, and though in his fear for the Union he had sacrificed more than any other man for the South, he could secure no Southern support. General Scott was a candidate, and though born and reared in Virginia, he was supported by anti-slavery Whigs of every shade in the North, against the two men of Northern birth and Northern associations. On the first ballot, Fillmore received 133 votes, Scott 131, Webster 23. Fillmore received every Southern vote, except one from Virginia given to Scott by John Minor Botts. Scott received every Northern vote except twenty-nine given to Webster, and sixteen given to Fillmore. The friends of Mr. Webster, and Mr. Webster himself, were pained and mortified by the result. Rufus Choate was at the head of the Massachusetts delegation, and eloquently, even passionately, pleaded with the Southern men to support Mr. Webster on a single ballot. But the Southern men stubbornly adhered to Fillmore, and were in turn enraged because the twenty-nine votes thrown away, as they said, on Mr. Webster, would at once renominate the President in whose cabinet Mr. Webster was at that moment serving as Premier. This threefold contest had been well developed before the convention assembled, and one feature of special bitterness had been added to it by a letter from Mr. Clay, who was on his death-bed in Washington. He urged his friends to support Mr. Fillmore. This was regarded by many as a lack of generosity on Mr. Clay's part, after the warm support which Mr. Webster had given him in his contest with Mr. Polk in 1844. But there had been for years an absence of cordiality between these Whig leaders, and many who were familiar with both declared that Mr. Clay had never forgiven Mr. Webster for remaining in Tyler's cabinet after the resignation of the other Whig members. Mr. Webster's association with Tyler had undoubtedly given to the President a measure of protection against the hot wrath of Mr. Clay in the memorable contest of 1841-2, and by natural reaction had impaired the force of Mr. Clay's attack. And now ten years after the event its memory rose to influence the Presidential nomination of 1852.

Another explanation is more in consonance with Mr. Clay's magnanimity of character. He was extremely anxious that an outspoken friend of the Compromise should be nominated. He knew when he wrote his letter that the Democrats would pledge themselves to the finality of the Compromise, and he knew the Southern Whigs would be overwhelmed if there should be halting or hesitation on this issue either in their candidate or in their platform. He felt, as the responsible author of the Compromise, that he was himself on trial, and it would be a peculiar mortification if the party which he had led so long should fail to sustain him in this final crisis of his public life. He had been sufficiently humiliated by Taylor's triumph over him in the convention of 1848. It would be an absolutely intolerable rebuke if in 1852 Taylor's policy should be preferred to his own by a Whig national convention. Taylor, indeed, was in his grave, but his old military compatriot, Scott, was a candidate for the Presidency, and the anti-Compromise Whigs under Seward's lead were rallying to his support. Mr. Clay believed that Fillmore, with the force of the national administration in his hands, could defeat General Scott, and that Mr. Webster's candidacy was a needless division of friends. Hence he sustained Fillmore, not from hostility to Webster, but as the sure and only means of securing an indorsement of the Compromise measures, and of doing justice to a Northern President who had risked every thing in support of Mr. Clay's policy.

The contest was long and earnest. Mr. Webster's friends, offended by what they considered the ingratitude of Southern Whigs, persistently refused to go over to Fillmore, though by so doing they could at any moment secure his nomination. They cared nothing for Fillmore's lead in votes, obtained as they thought in large degree from the use of patronage. They scouted it as an argument not fit to be addressed to the friends of Mr. Webster. Such considerations belonged only to men of the lower grades, struggling in the dirty pools of political strife, and were not to be applied to a statesman of Mr. Webster's rank and character. They felt, moreover, that all the popularity which Fillmore had secured in the South, and to a certain degree with the conservative and commercial classes of the whole country, had come from Mr. Webster's presence and pre- eminent service in his cabinet. In short, Mr. Webster's supporters felt that Mr. Fillmore, so far from earning their respect and deserving their applause, was merely strutting in borrowed plumage, and deriving all his strength from their own illustrious chief. This jealousy was of course stimulated with consummate art and tact by the supporters of Scott. They expressed, as they really entertained, the highest admiration for Webster, and no less frankly made known their dislike, if not their contempt, for Fillmore. Webster, as they pointed out, was supported by the voice of his own great State. Massachusetts had sent a delegation composed of her best men, with the most brilliant orator of the nation, to plead their cause at the bar of the convention. In contrast with this, Fillmore had no support from New York. The Whigs of that State had sent a delegation to impeach him before the nation for faithlessness to principle, and to demand that votes of other States should not impose on New York a recreant son to confound and destroy the party.

NOMINATION OF GENERAL SCOTT.

From this attrition and conflict the natural result was Scott's triumph. It was not reached, however, until the fifty-third ballot and until the fifth day of the convention. It was brought about by the votes of some Fillmore delegates, both in the North and the South, who felt that the long contest should be ended. The gossip of the day--with perhaps a shadow of foundation--was, that in the councils of an inner and governing circle of delegates it was finally agreed that the North might have the candidate, and the South should have the platform, and that thus a bold fight could be made in both sections. William A. Graham of North Carolina, formerly a senator in Congress from that State, subsequently its governor, and at the time secretary of the Navy in Mr. Fillmore's cabinet, was nominated for Vice-President, as a wise concession to the defeated party. The platform adopted was strongly Southern, and this fact served to confirm in the minds of many the existence of the suspected agreement for the division of honors between North and South. The convention resolved that the Compromise measures, including the fugitive-slave law (specially designated after the example of the Democratic convention), "are received and acquiesced in by the Whig party of the United States as a settlement in principle and in substance of the dangerous and exciting questions which they embrace." They further declared that this position was "essential to the nationality of the Whig party and the integrity of the Union." Alexander H. Stephens has stated that this resolution was shown to him by Mr. Webster before the convention assembled, and while Mr. Choate was his guest. The inference apparently intended was that Mr. Choate carried it to the convention as the expression of the Northern Whigs, who believed in the Compromise measures. The agreement--if one existed--that this resolution should be adopted, did not involve all the Northern Whigs. Sturdy resistance was made by many, and the final vote disclosed a powerful minority opposed to the resolution.

For the first few weeks of the canvass the Whigs had strong hope of success. The name of General Scott evoked much enthusiasm, and his splendid military reputation, acquired in two wars, was favorably contrasted with that of General Pierce, who was one of President Polk's political brigadiers. But these indications were the bubbles and froth that floated on the surface. The personal characteristics of the candidates were lost sight of in the face of the great issues involved. The people soon perceived that if there was indeed merit in the Compromise measures, it would be wise to intrust them to the keeping of the party that was unreservedly--North and South-- in favor of upholding and enforcing them. On this point there was absolutely no division in the Democratic ranks. In New York the friends of Marcy and the political heirs of Wright cordially harmonized in favor of the Compromise. Mr. Van Buren returned to Tammany Hall as fresh and buoyant as if his allegiance had never been broken; and in a great convocation of the Democracy, the prodigal was welcomed, Pierce's nomination applauded, the platform cheered, the anti-slavery creed forsworn, the Whig party roundly abused, and word sent forth to the uttermost parts of the Union that the Empire State had resumed her place at the head of the Democratic line.

The Whigs soon found to their dismay that the platform and the candidate were inseparable. They could not make a canvass upon the one in the South and upon the other in the North. General Scott had indeed heartily assented to all the principles proclaimed at the convention, but so long as Horace Greeley was eulogizing him in the "Tribune," and Seward supporting him on the stump, it was idle to present him as an acceptable candidate to slave-holding Whigs in the South. Supporting the candidate and spitting on the platform became the expressive if inelegant watchword of many Northern Whigs, but for every Whig vote which this phrase kept to his party allegiance in the free States, it drove two over to the Democracy in the slave States. Moreover, spitting on the platform, however effective as an indication of contempt, would not satisfy the conscience or the prejudices of large numbers of Whigs who voted directly for the candidates of the Free-soil party, John P. Hale of New Hampshire for President, and George W. Julian of Indiana for Vice-President.

DEFEAT OF THE WHIG PARTY.

Weakened by personal strife, hopelessly divided on questions of principle, the Whig party was led to the slaughter. Carrying in 1840 every State but seven for Harrison, failing to elect Mr. Clay in 1844 only by the loss of New York, triumphantly installing Taylor in 1848, the Whigs were astounded to find that their candidate had been successful in but four States of the Union, and that twenty- seven States had by large majorities pronounced for General Pierce. Massachusetts and Vermont in the North, Kentucky and Tennessee in the South, had alone remained true to the Whig standard. All the other Whig States that had stood staunch and strong in the fierce contests of the past now gave way. Connecticut and Rhode Island, which never but once failed either Federalist or Whig from the foundation of the government, now voted for a pro-slavery States'- rights Democrat. Delaware, which never in a single instance voted for the Democratic candidate except when Monroe had no opposition in 1820; which had fought against Jefferson and Madison; which had stood firmly against Jackson and Van Buren and Polk and Cass when the Bayards were Whigs and co-operated with the Claytons, now swelled the general acclaim for Pierce. Of 296 electors Pierce received 254 and General Scott only 42. The wide sweep of the Democratic victory was a surprise to both sides, though for several weeks before the election the defeat of Scott was anticipated. He received no support from Mr. Fillmore's administration, was indeed secretly betrayed by it everywhere, and quite openly by its officials in the Southern States. He did not receive the strength of his party, and the strength of his party would have been insufficient to elect him. But overwhelming as was the defeat, it did not necessarily involve destruction. The Whigs had been beaten almost as badly when Clay ran against Jackson in 1832, and yet the party had rallied to four earnest contests and to two signal victories. The Democracy, now so triumphant, had been disastrously beaten in the contest of 1840, but in the next election had regained strength enough to defeat Mr. Clay. The precedents, therefore, permitted the Whigs to be of good cheer and bade them wait the issues of the future. They were not, however, consoled by the philosophy of defeat, and were disposed to gloomy anticipations.

MR. CLAY AND MR. WEBSTER COMPARED.

As if to emphasize the disaster to the Whigs, Mr. Clay and Mr. Webster both died during the canvass; Mr. Clay in June, a few days after Scott's nomination, Mr. Webster in October, a few days before his defeat. They had both lived long enough to see the work of their political life imperiled if not destroyed. They had held the same relation to the Whigs that the elder Adams and Hamilton had held to the Federalists, that Jefferson and Madison had held to the Republicans. Comparison between them could not be fairly made, their inherent qualities and personal characteristics differed so widely. Each was superior to the other in certain traits, and in our public annals thus far each stands unequaled in his sphere. Their points of contrast were salient and numerous. Mr. Clay was born in Virginia. Mr. Webster was born in New England. Mr. Clay was a devoted follower of Jefferson. Mr. Webster was bred in the school of Hamilton. Mr. Clay was an earnest advocate of the second war with Great Britain. Mr. Webster was its steady opponent. Mr. Clay supported Madison in 1812 with great energy. Mr. Webster threw all his strength for De Witt Clinton. Mr. Clay was from the first deeply imbued with the doctrine of protection. Mr. Webster entered public life as a pronounced free-trader. They were not members of the same political organization until after the destruction of the old Federal party to which Mr. Webster belonged, and the hopeless divisions of the old Republican party to which Mr. Clay belonged. They gradually harmonized towards the close of Monroe's second term, and became firmly united under the administration of John Quincy Adams. Modern political designations had their origin in the Presidential election of 1824. The candidates all belonged to the party of Jefferson, which had been called Democratic- Republican. In the new divisions, the followers of Jackson took the name of Democrats: the supporters of Adams called themselves National Republicans. They had thus divided the old name, each claiming the inheritance. The unpopularity of Mr. Adams's administration had destroyed the prospects of the National-Republican party, and the name was soon displaced by the new and more acceptable title of Whig. To the joint efforts of Mr. Clay and Mr. Webster more than to all others the formation of the Whig party was due. It was not, however, in Mr. Webster's nature to become a partisan chief. Mr. Clay on the other hand was naturally and inevitably a leader. In all the discussions of the Senate in which constitutional questions were involved, Mr. Clay instinctively deferred to Mr. Webster. In the parliamentary debates which concerned the position of parties and the fate of measures, which enchained the Senate and led captive the people, Mr. Clay was facile princeps. Mr. Webster argued the principle. Mr. Clay embodied it in a statute. Mr. Webster's speeches are still read with interest and studied with profit. Mr. Clay's speeches swayed listening senates and moved multitudes, but reading them is a disappointment. Between the two the difference is much the same as that between Burke and Charles James Fox. Fox was the parliamentary debater of England, the consummate leader of his party. His speeches, always listened to and cheered by a crowded House of Commons, perished with their delivery. Burke could never command a body of followers, but his parliamentary orations form brilliant and permanent chapters in the political literature of two continents.

While Mr. Webster's name is so honorably perpetuated by his elaborate and masterly discussion of great principles in the Senate, he did not connect himself with a single historic measure. While Mr. Clay's speeches remain unread, his memory is lastingly identified with issues that are still vital and powerful. He advanced the doctrine of protection to the stately dignity of the American system. Discarding theories and overthrowing the dogma of strict construction, he committed the General Government irrevocably to internal improvements. Condemning the worthless system of paper money imposed upon the people by irresponsible State banks, he stood firmly for a national currency, and he foreshadowed if he did not reach the paper money which is based to-day on the credit and the strength of the government.

Mr. Clay possessed extraordinary sagacity in public affairs, seeing and foreseeing where others were blinded by ignorance or prejudice. He was a statesman by intuition, finding a remedy before others could discover the disease. His contemporaries appreciated his rare endowments. On the day of his first entrance into the House of Representatives he was chosen Speaker, though but thirty-four years of age. This was all the more remarkable because the House was filled with men of recognized ability, who had been long in the public service. It was rendered still more striking by the fact that Mr. Clay was from the far West, from one of the only two States whose frontiers reached the Mississippi. In the entire House there were only fifteen members from the Western side of the Alleghanies. He was re-elected Speaker in every Congress so long as he served as representative. He entered the Senate at thirty, and died a member of it in his seventy-sixth year. He began his career in that body during the Presidency of Jefferson in 1806, and closed it under the Presidency of Fillmore in 1852. Other senators have served a longer time than Mr. Clay, but he alone at periods so widely separated. Other men have excelled him in specific powers, but in the rare combination of qualities which constitute at once the matchless leader of party and the statesman of consummate ability and inexhaustible resource, he has never been surpassed by any man speaking the English tongue.

[NOTE.--The Committee of Thirteen, to which reference is made on p. 94, and which attained such extraordinary importance at the time, was originally suggested by Senator Foote of Mississippi. His first proposition was somewhat novel from its distinct recognition of the sectional character of the issues involved. He proposed that the committee be chosen by ballot, that six members of it should be taken from the free States and six members from the slave States, and that the twelve thus chosen should select a thirteenth member who should be chairman of the committee. All propositions touching any of the questions at issue between the North and the South were to be referred to this committee with the view of securing a general and comprehensive compromise. The subject was debated for several weeks. Mr. Foote submitted his proposition on the 25th of February, 1850, and it was not adopted until the 18th of April. The committee was chosen on the 19th. Mr. Clay had objected to the open avowal of a division of the committee on the line of North and South, and the proposition was so modified as to simply provide for a committee of thirteen to be chosen by ballot,--the chairman to be first selected, and the other twelve members on a second ballot. The change of the resolution was one of form only; for, when the Senate came to select the members, they adhered to the plan originally suggested by Mr. Foote. Mr. Clay was made chairman, which had been the design from the first, and then six senators were taken from the free States and six from the slave States,-- the first, if not the only, time this mode of appointment was adopted. The membership of the committee was highly distinguished. From the free States the Senate selected Mr. Webster, General Cass, Mr. Dickinson of New York, Mr. Bright of Indiana, Mr. Phelps of Vermont, and Mr. Cooper of Pennsylvania. From the slave States, Mr. King of Alabama, Mr. Mason of Virginia, Mr. Downs of Louisiana, Mr. Mangum of North Carolina, Mr. Bell of Tennessee, and Mr. Berrien of Georgia. The twelve were equally divided between the Whigs and the Democrats, so that, with Mr. Clay as chairman, the Whigs had the majority in numbers as they had the overwhelming superiority in weight and ability. The composition of the committee was remarkable when it is remembered that the Democrats had a majority of ten in the Senate.]

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Chapter VI

Review (continued).--The Strength of the Democratic Party in 1853.--Popular Strength not so great as Electoral Strength.--The New President's Pledge not to re-open the Slavery Question.--How he failed to maintain that Pledge.--The North-west Territory.--Anti- slavery Restriction of the Missouri Compromise.--Movement to repeal it by Mr. Clay's Successor in the Senate.--Mr. Douglas adopts the policy of repealing the Restriction.--It is made an Administration Measure and carried through Congress.--Colonel Benton's Position. --Anti-slavery Excitement developed in the Country.--Destruction of the Whig Party.--New Political Alliances.--American Party.--Know- Nothings.--Origin and Growth of the Republican Party.--Pro-slavery Development in the South.--Contest for the Possession of Kansas.-- Prolonged Struggle.--Disunion Tendencies developing in the South. --Election of N. P. Banks to the Speakership of the House.--The Presidential Election of 1856.--Buchanan.--Fremont.--Fillmore.-- The Slavery Question the Absorbing Issue.--Triumph of Buchanan.-- Dred Scott Decision.--Mr. Lincoln's Version of it.--Chief Justice Taney.

The Democratic party, seeing their old Whig rival prostrate, naturally concluded that a long lease of power was granted them. The victory of Pierce was so complete that his supporters could not with closest scrutiny descry an opponent worthy of the slightest consideration. If the leaders of that party, however, had deigned to look below the surface, they would have learned a fact which, if not disquieting, was at least serious and significant. This fact was contained in the popular vote, which told an entirely different story from that disclosed by the Presidential electors. From the people Pierce received a total of 1,601,274 votes, Scott 1,386,580, Hale 155,825. It will be noted that, while receiving only one-sixth as many electoral votes as Pierce, Scott received more than five-sixths as many votes at the polls. Adding the vote of Hale, it will be observed that out of a total exceeding three millions, Pierce's absolute majority was but 58,896. Thoughtful men, wise in the administration of government, skilled in the management of parties, would have found in these figures food for reflection and abundant reason for hoisting cautionary signals along the shores of the political sea. The Democratic leaders were not, however, disturbed by facts or figures, but were rather made stronger in the confidence of their own strength. They beheld the country prosperous in all its material interests, and they saw the mass of the people content in both sections with the settlement of the slavery question. Since the Compromise measures were enacted in 1850, and especially since the two political parties had pledged themselves in 1852 to accept those measures as a finality, the slavery agitation had to a very large extent subsided. Disturbance was not indeed infrequently caused by the summary arrest of fugitive slaves in various parts of the North, under the stringent and harsh provisions of the new law on that subject. But though these peculiarly odious transactions exerted a deeper influence on public opinion than the Democratic leaders imagined, they were local and apparently under control. There was no national disquietude on the vexed question of slavery when Franklin Pierce was installed as President.

In his Inaugural address General Pierce pledged himself with evident zeal to the upholding of the Compromise measures and to the rigid enforcement of the laws. There is no doubt that a large majority of the people of the United States--North and South--were satisfied with the situation and bade God-speed to the popular President whose administration opened so auspiciously. The year 1853 was politically as quiet as Monroe's era of good feeling, and when Congress came together in its closing month, the President dwelt impressively upon the dangers we had passed and upon the blessings that were in store for us. In tones of solemnity he declared that when "the grave shall have closed over all who are now endeavoring to meet the obligations of duty, the year 1850 will be recurred to as a period of anxious apprehension." With high praise of the Compromise legislation of that year he said "it had given renewed vigor to our institutions and restored a sense of repose and security to the public mind." Evidently remembering the pledge given by the convention which nominated him "to resist all attempts at renewing the agitation of the slavery question in or out of Congress," the President gave emphatic assurance that this "repose" should suffer no shock during his term if he "had the power to avert it." These words were addressed to Congress on the fifth day of December, 1853, and it would be uncandid to deny that even in the North they were heartily approved by a large majority of the people,--perhaps by a majority in every State.

OMINOUS MOVEMENT IN CONGRESS.

In precisely one month from the delivery of these words by the President an ominous movement was made in Congress. Notwithstanding all the vows of fealty to the Compromise of 1850, the pro-slavery leaders of the South were not contented with the aspect of affairs. The result of the Mexican war had deeply disappointed them. Its most striking political effect thus far was the addition to the Union of a large and imposing free State on the Pacific,--an empire indeed in prospective wealth and power. In the battle between free institutions and slave institutions, California represented a strong flank movement threatening destruction to slavery. Her vote in the Senate gave a majority of two to the free States. The equality of the sections had been steadily maintained in the Senate since the admission of Louisiana in 1812. The break now was ominous; the claim of equality had been disregarded; the superstition which upheld it was dispelled, and the defenders of slavery could see only a long procession of free States marching from the North-West to re-enforce a power already irresistibly strong. From what quarter of the Union could this anti-slavery aggression be offset? By what process could its growth be checked? Texas might, if she chose to ask for her own partition, re-enforce the slave-power in the Senate by four new States, as guaranteed in the articles of annexation. But the very majesty of her dimensions protested against dismemberment. Texas was as large as France, and from the Sabine to the Rio Grande there was not a cotton-planter or a cattle- herder who did not have this fact before his eyes to inflame his pride and guide his vote against parting with a single square mile of her magnificent domain. New Mexico and Utah were mountainous and arid, inviting only the miner and the grazier and offering no inducement for the labor of the slave. The right guaranteed to these territories in the Compromise of 1850 to come in as slave States was, therefore, as Mr. Webster had maintained, a concession of form and not of substance to the South. Seeing slavery thus hemmed in on all sides by nature as well as law, and sincerely believing that in such a position its final extinction was but a question of time, the Southern leaders determined to break the bonds that bound them. From their own point of reasoning they were correct. To stand still was certain though slow destruction to slavery. To move was indeed hazardous, but it gave them a chance to re-establish their equality in the administration of the government, and for this they determined to risk every thing.

To the westward and north-westward of Missouri and Iowa lay a vast territory which in 1854 was not only unsettled but had no form of civil government whatever. It stretched from the north line of Arkansas to the border of British America,--twelve and a half degrees of latitude,--and westward over great plains and across mountain ranges till it reached the confines of Utah and Oregon. It was the unorganized remainder of the territory of Louisiana, acquired from France in 1803, and in extent was ten times as large as the combined area of New York and Pennsylvania. By the Missouri Compromise every square mile of this domain had been honorably devoted to freedom. At the period named Indian tribes roamed at will throughout its whole extent and lighted their camp-fires on the very borders of Missouri and Iowa. Herds of buffalo grazed undisturbed on lands which to-day constitute the sites of large cities. Fort Leavenworth was a far-western outpost, Council Bluffs was on the frontier of civilization, and Omaha had not been named. Adventurous merchants passed over the plains to the South-West with long caravans, engaged in the Santa-Fe trade, and towards the North- West, hunters, trappers, and a few hardy emigrants penetrated the "Platte country," and through mountain passes pointed out by the trail of the Indian and the buffalo had in many instances safely crossed to Oregon. The tide of emigration which had filled Iowa and Wisconsin, and which by the gold excitement of California had for a time been drawn to the Pacific slope, now set again more strongly then ever to the Mississippi valley, demanding and needing new lands for settlement and cultivation. To answer this requirement a movement was made during the closing weeks of Mr. Fillmore's administration to establish the territory of Nebraska. A bill to that effect was passed by a two-thirds vote in the House. The slight opposition that was made came from the South, but its significance was not perceived. When the bill reached the Senate Mr. Douglas, as chairman of the committee on territories, promptly reported it, and made an apparently sincere effort to pass it. He did not succeed. Every senator from the slave-holding States, except those from Missouri,--which was locally interested in having the territory organized,--voted against it;--and the measure, antagonizing other business in which Northern senators were more immediately interested, was laid upon the table two days before President Pierce was inaugurated. The bill had fully recognized the binding force of the Missouri Compromise, and if it had passed, there could have been no pretense for the introduction of slavery in the territory of Nebraska.

REPEAL OF THE MISSOURI COMPROMISE.

Directly after the assurance so impressively given by the President that the "repose" of the country on the slavery question "should suffer no shock during his administration," the bill to organize the Territory of Nebraska was again introduced in the Senate. The motive for its defeat the preceding session was soon made apparent. Mr. Archibald Dixon of Kentucky, the last Whig governor of that State, had been chosen to succeed Mr. Clay in the Senate. But he did not succeed to Mr. Clay's political principles. He belonged to a class of men that had been recently and rapidly growing in the South,--men avowedly and aggressively pro-slavery. Mr. Dixon was the first to strike an open blow against the Missouri Compromise. Mr. Clay had been honorably identified with the pacific work of 1820, and throughout his life believed that it had been effectual in allaying the strife which in his judgment had endangered the Union. It was an alarming fact that his own successor in the Senate --less than two years after Mr. Clay's death--was the first to assail his work and to re-open a controversy which was not to cease till a continent was drenched in blood. Mr. Dixon made no concealment of his motive and his purpose, declaring that he wished the restriction removed because he was a pro-slavery man. He gave notice early in January, 1854, that when the bill to organize the Territory of Nebraska should come before the Senate, he would move that "the Missouri Compromise be repealed, and that the citizens of the several States shall be at liberty to take and hold their slaves within any of the Territories." It was very soon found that this was not a capricious movement by Mr. Dixon alone, but that behind him there was a settled determination on the part of the pro-slavery men to break down the ancient barrier and to remove the honored landmark of 1820.

The Senate had a large Democratic majority, and there was probably not one among them all who had not in the Presidential contest of 1852 publicly and solemnly vowed that the Compromise measures of 1850 were a final settlement of the slavery question, not in any event, nor upon any pretext, to be disturbed. It was specially embarrassing and perilous for Northern senators to violate pledges so recently made, so frequently repeated. It much resembled the breaking of a personal promise, and seemed to the mass of people in the free State to be a gross breach of national honor. To escape the sharp edge of condemnation, sure to follow such a transaction, a pretense was put forth that the Compromise of 1820 was in conflict with the Compromise of 1850, and that it was necessary to repeal the former in order that the doctrine of non-intervention with slavery in the Territories should become the recognized policy for all the public domain of the United States. Mr. Douglas was the first to adopt this construction. Indeed, to him may fairly be ascribed the credit or the discredit of inventing it. He had a strong hold on the South, and in his Congressional life had steadily voted on the pro-slavery side of all public questions. But he instinctively foresaw that his political future would be endangered by advocating the repeal of the Missouri Compromise on the basis and for the reason announced by Mr. Dixon. Hence the resort to the doctrine of non-intervention under which the South should get all they wished by having the right to carry their slaves into the territory, and the North could be conciliated by the presentation of another final settlement of all issues which threatened the perpetuity of the Union.

Instead of the single Territory of Nebraska, Mr. Douglas reported a measure to organize both Kansas and Nebraska; and in one of the sections of the bill the Missouri Compromise of 1820 was declared to be inoperative and void, because "inconsistent with the principle of non-intervention by Congress with slavery in the States and Territories as recognized by the Compromise measures of 1850." The bill further declared that "its true intent and meaning was not to legislate slavery into any Territory or State, and not to exclude it therefrom, but to leave the people perfectly free to regulate their domestic institutions in their own way." The North was fairly stunned by the proposition made by Mr. Douglas. Had he proposed to abolish the Constitution itself the surprise could scarcely have been greater. The acting generation had grown to manhood with profound respect and even reverence for the Missouri Compromise, and had come to regard it almost as sacredly as though it were part of the organic law of the Republic. If a Southern man talked of its repeal it was regarded as the mere bravado of an extremist. But now a Northern senator of remarkable ability, a party leader, a candidate for the Presidency, had reported the measure, and made it a test of Democratic faith, of administration fealty. The contest that followed was severe and prolonged. The bill was before Congress for a period of four months, and was finally forced through to the utter destruction of good faith between the sections. More than forty Democratic representatives from the North flatly defied party discipline and voted against the repeal. The Democratic representatives from the slave States were consolidated in its favor, with the exception of John Millson, an able member from Virginia, and the venerable Thomas H. Benton of Missouri.

REPEAL OF THE MISSOURI COMPROMISE.

After Colonel Benton's thirty years' service in the Senate had terminated, the city of St. Louis sent him to the House in the autumn of 1852. He had entered the Senate when Missouri came into the Union as the result of the Compromise of 1820. He had remained there until after the Compromise of 1850 was adopted. He denounced the proceeding of Douglas with unsparing severity, and gave his best efforts, but in vain, to defeat the bill. He pointed out the fact that the original Compromise had been forced upon the North by the South, and that the present proposition to repeal it had been initiated "without a memorial, without a petition, without a request from any human being. It was simply and only a contrivance of political leaders, who were using the institution of slavery as a weapon, and rushing the country forward to excitements and conflicts in which there was no profit to either section, and possibly great harm to both." Colonel Benton belonged to a class of Southern Democrats who were passing away,--of whom he, indeed, was the last in conspicuous stature. He represented the Democracy of Andrew Jackson and of Nathaniel Macon,--not the Democracy of Mr. Calhoun. He placed the value of the Union above the value of slavery, and was a relentless foe to all who plotted against the integrity of the government. But his day was past, his power was broken, his influence was gone. Even in his own State he had been beaten, and David R. Atchison installed as leader of the Democratic party. His efforts were vain, his protest unheard; and amid the sorrow and gloom of thinking men, and the riotous rejoicings of those who could not measure the evil of their work, the Douglas Bill was passed. On the thirtieth of May, 1854, the wise and patriotic Compromise of March 6, 1820, was declared to be at an end, and the advocates and the opponents of slavery were invited to a trial of strength on the public domain of the United States.

No previous anti-slavery excitement bore any comparison with that which spread over the North as the discussion progressed, and especially after the bill became a law. It did not merely call forth opposition; it produced almost a frenzy of wrath on the part of thousands and tens of thousands in both the old parties, who had never before taken any part whatever in anti-slavery agitation. So conservative a statesman as Edward Everett, who had succeeded John Davis as senator from Massachusetts, pointed out the fallacy not to say the falsehood of the plea that the Compromise measures of 1850 required or involved this legislation. This plea was an afterthought, a pretense, contradicted by the discussion of 1850 in its entire length and breadth. In the North, conservative men felt that no compromise could acquire weight or sanction or sacredness, if one that had stood for a whole generation could be brushed aside by partisan caprice or by the demands of sectional necessity. The popular fury was further stimulated by the fact that from the territory included in the Louisiana purchase, three slave States had been added to the Union, and as yet only one free State; and that the solemn guaranty securing all the domain north of 36 deg. 30' was now to be trodden under foot when its operation was likely to prove hostile to slavery and favorable to freedom. From the beginning of the government the slave-holding interest had secured the advantage in the number of States formed from territory added to the original Union. The South had Louisiana, Arkansas, and Missouri out of the purchase from France in 1803, Florida from the purchase from Spain in 1819, and Texas, with its possibility of being divided into four additional States, from the annexation of 1845. The North had only Iowa from the Louisiana purchase and California from the territory ceded by Mexico. The North would not stop to consider its prospective advantages in the territory yet to be settled, while the South could see nothing else. The South realized that although it had secured five States and the North only two, Southern territory was exhausted, while the creation of free States in the North-West had just begun. Stripped of all the disguises with which it was surrounded by the specious cry of non-intervention by Congress, the majority in the North came to see that it was in reality nothing but a struggle between the slave States and the free States, growing more and more intense and more and more dangerous day by day.

REPEAL OF THE MISSOURI COMPROMISE.

The most striking result in the political field, produced by the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, was the utter destruction of the Whig party. Had the Southern Whigs in Congress maintained the sacredness of the work of 1820, the party throughout the country would have been able to make a sturdy contest, notwithstanding the crushing defeat of Scott two years before. Not improbably in the peculiar state of public opinion, the Whigs, by maintaining the Compromise, might have been able to carry the Presidential election of 1856. But with the exception of John Bell in the Senate and seven members of the House, the entire Whig party of the South joined the Democrats in repealing the Compromise. Of these seven, Emerson Etheridge of Tennessee and Theodore G. Hunt of Louisiana deserve especial and honorable mention for the courage with which they maintained their position. But when John M. Clayton of Delaware, who had voted to prohibit slavery in all the Territories, now voted to strike down the only legal barrier to its extension; when Badger of North Carolina, who had been the very soul of conservatism, now joined in the wild cry of the pro-slavery Democrats; when James Alfred Pearce of Maryland and James C. Jones of Tennessee united with Jefferson Davis, the Whig party of the South ceased to exist. Indeed, before this final blow large numbers of Southern Whigs had gone over to the Democracy. Toombs and Stephens and Judah P. Benjamin had been among the foremost supporters of Pierce, and had been specially influential in consolidating the South in his favor. But the great body of Whigs both in the South and in the North did not lose hope of a strong re-organization of their old party until the destruction of the Missouri Compromise had been effected. That was seen and felt by all to be the end.

Thenceforward new alliances were rapidly formed. In the South those Whigs who, though still unwilling to profess an anti-slavery creed, would not unite with the Democrats, were re-organized under the name of the American party, with Humphrey Marshall, Henry Winter Davis, Horace Maynard, and men of that class, for leaders. This party was founded on proscription of foreigners, and with special hostility to the Roman-Catholic Church. It had a fitful and feverish success, and in 1845-5, under the name of Know-Nothings, enrolled tens of thousands in secret lodges. But its creed was narrow, its principles were illiberal, and its methods of procedure boyish and undignified. The great body of thinking men in the North saw that the real contest impending was against slavery and not against naturalization laws and ecclesiastical dogmas. The Know-Nothings, therefore, speedily disappeared, and a new party sprang into existence composed of anti-slavery Whigs and anti-slavery Democrats. The latter infused into the ranks of the new organization a spirit and an energy which Whig traditions could never inspire. The same name was not at once adopted in all the free States in 1854, but by the ensuing year there was a general recognition throughout the North that all who intended to make a serious fight against the pro-slavery Democracy would unite under the flag of the Republican party. In its very first effort, without compact organization, without discipline, it rallied the anti-slavery sentiment so successfully as to carry nearly all the free States and to secure a plurality of the members of the House of Representatives. The indignation of the people knew no bounds. Old political landmarks disappeared, and party prejudices of three generations were swept aside in a day. With such success in the outset, the Republicans prepared for a vigorous struggle in the approaching Presidential election.

The anti-slavery development of the North was not more intense than the pro-slavery development of the South. Every other issue was merged in the one absorbing demand by Southern slave-holders for what they sincerely believed to be their rights in the Territories. It was not viewed on either side as an ordinary political contest. It was felt to be a question not of expediency but of morality, not of policy but of honor. It did not merely enlist men. Women took large part in the agitation. It did not end with absorbing the laity. The clergy were as profoundly concerned. The power of the Church on both sides of the dividing-line was used with great effect in shaping public opinion and directing political action. The Missouri Compromise was repealed in May. Before the end of the year a large majority of the people of the North and a large majority of the people of the South were distinctly arrayed against each other on a question which touched the interest, the pride, the conscience, and the religion of all who were concerned in the controversy. Had either side been insincere there would have been voluntary yielding or enforced adjustment. But each felt itself to be altogether in the right and its opponent altogether in the wrong. Thus they stood confronting each other at the close of the year 1854.

It was soon perceived by all, as the sagacious had seen from the first, that the Missouri Compromise had not been repealed merely to exhibit unity in the scope of the United-States statutes respecting slavery in the Territories. This was the euphuistic plea of those Northern senators and representatives who had given dire offense to their constituents by voting for it. It was the clever artifice of Douglas which suggested that construction. It was a deception, and it was contradicted and exposed by the logic of argument in the North and by the logic of action in the South. No double- dealing was attempted by the Southern men. They understood the question perfectly and left the apologies and explanations to Northern men, who were hard pressed by anti-slavery constituents. Southern men knew that the repeal of the Missouri Compromise gave them a privilege which they had not before enjoyed,--the privilege of settling with their slaves on the rich plains and in the fertile valleys that stretched westward from the Missouri River. In maintaining this privilege, they felt sure of aid from the Executive of the United States, and they had the fullest confidence that in any legal controversy the Federal judiciary would be on their side.

THE SOUTHERN STRUGGLE FOR KANSAS.

Thus panoplied they made a desperate contest for the possession of Kansas. They had found that all the crops grown in Missouri by slave labor could be as profitably cultivated in Kansas. Securing Kansas, they would gain more than the mere material advantage of an enlarged field for slave labor. New Mexico at that time included all of Arizona; Utah included all of Nevada; Kansas, as organized, absorbed a large part of what is now Colorado, stretched along the eastern and northern boundary of New Mexico, and, crossing the Rocky Mountains, reached the confines of Utah. If Kansas could be made a slave State it would control New Mexico and Utah, and the South could again be placed in a position of political equality if not of command. The repeal of the Missouri Compromise had shown them for the first time that they could absolutely consolidate the Southern vote in Congress in defense of slavery, regardless of differences on all other issues. But this power was of no avail, unless they could regain their equality in the Senate which had been lost by what they considered the mishap of California's admission. While Clay and Benton were in the Senate with their old reverence for the Union and their desire for the ultimate extinction of slavery, California could neither be kept out nor divided on the line of 36 deg. 30'. But the new South, the South of Jefferson Davis and Alexander H. Stephens, of Robert Toombs and Judah P. Benjamin, of James M. Mason and John C. Breckinridge, had made new advances, was inspired by new ambitions, and was determined upon the consolidation of sectional power. The one supreme need was another slave State. If this could be acquired they felt assured that so long as the Union should exist no free State could be admitted without the corresponding admission of another slave State. They would perhaps have been disappointed. Possibly they did not give sufficient heed to the influences which were steadily working against slavery in such States as Delaware and Maryland, threatening desertion in the rear, while the defenders of slavery were battling at the front. They argued, however, and not unnaturally, that prejudice can hold a long contest with principle, and that in the general uprising of the South the tendency of all their old allies would be to remain firm. They reckoned that States with few slaves would continue to stand for Southern institutions as stubbornly as States with many slaves. In all the States of the South emancipation had been made difficult, and free negroes were tolerated, if at all, with great reluctance and with constant protest.

The struggle for Kansas was therefore to be maintained and possession secured at all hazards. Although, as the Southern leaders realized, the free States had flanked them by the admission of California with an anti-slavery constitution, the Southern acquisition of Kansas would pierce the very centre of the army of freedom, and would enable the South thenceforth to dictate terms to the North. Instead of the line of 36 deg. 30', upon which they had so frequently offered to compromise, as a permanent continental division, they would have carried the northern boundary of slave territory to the 40th parallel of latitude and even beyond. They slave States in pursuing this policy were directed by men who had other designs than those which lay on the surface. Since the struggle of 1850 the dissolution of the Union had been in the minds of many Southern leaders, and, as the older class of statesmen passed away, this design grew and strengthened until it became a fixed policy. They felt that when the time came to strike, it was of the first importance that they should have support and popular strength beyond the Mississippi. California, they were confident, could be carried in their interest, if they could but plant supporting colonies between the Missouri and the Sierras. The Democratic party was dominant in the State, and the Democracy was of the type personated by William M. Gwin. Both her senators voted for the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, and stood by the extremists of the South as steadily as if California bordered on the Gulf of Mexico. Dissolution of the Union on the scale thus projected would, as the authors of the scheme persuaded themselves, be certain of success. From the Mississippi to the Missouri they would carry the new confederacy to the southern line of Iowa. From the Missouri to the line of Utah they would have the 40th degree of latitude; from Utah westward they would have the 42d parallel, leaving the line of Oregon as the southern boundary of the United States on the Pacific.

THE SOUTHERN STRUGGLE FOR KANSAS.

This policy was not absolute but alternative. If the slave-holders could maintain their supremacy in the Union, they would prefer to remain. If they were to be outvoted and, as they thought, outraged by free-State majorities, then they would break up the government and form a confederacy of their own. To make such a confederacy effective, they must not take from the Union a relatively small section, but must divide it from ocean to ocean. They could not acquire a majority of the total population, but they aimed to secure by far the larger share of the vast domain comprised in the United States. The design was audacious, but from the stand-point of the men who were committed to it, it was not illogical. Their entire industrial system was founded upon an institution which was bitterly opposed in the free States. They could see no way, and they no longer desired to see a way, by which they might rid themselves of the servile labor which was at once their strength and their weakness. To abandon the institution was to sacrifice four thousand millions of property specially protected by law. It was for the existing generation of the governing class in the South to vote themselves into bankruptcy and penury. Far beyond this, it was in their judgment to blight their land with ignorance and indolence, to be followed by crime and anarchy. Their point of view was so radically different from that held by a large number of Northern people that it left no common ground for action,--scarcely, indeed, an opportunity for reasoning together. In the South they saw and felt their danger, and they determined at all hazards to defend themselves against policies which involved the total destruction of their social and industrial fabric. They were not mere malcontents. They were not pretenders. They did not aim at small things. They had ability and they had courage. They had determined upon mastery within the Union, or a Continental Empire outside of it.

While the South had thus resolved to acquire control of the large Territory of Kansas, the North had equally resolved to save it to freedom. The strife that ensued upon the fertile plains beyond the Missouri might almost be regarded as the opening battle of the civil war. The proximity of a slave State gave to the South an obvious advantage at the beginning of the contest. Many of the Northern emigrants were from New England, and the distance they were compelled to travel exceeded two thousand miles. There were no railroads across Iowa, none across Missouri. But despite all impediments and all discouragements, the free-State emigrants, stimulated by anti-slavery societies organized for the purpose, far outnumbered those from the slave States. Had the vexed question in the Territory been left to actual settlers it would have been at once decided adversely to slavery. But the neighboring inhabitants of Missouri, as the first election approached, invaded the Territory in large numbers, and, with boisterous disturbance and threats of violence, seized the polls, fraudulently elected a pro-slavery Legislature, and chose one of their leaders named Whitfield as delegate to Congress. Over six thousand votes were polled, of which some eight hundred only were cast by actual settlers. There were about three thousand legal voters in the Territory. The total population was somewhat in excess of eight thousand, and there were between two and three hundred slaves. The governor of the Territory, Andrew H. Reeder, a Democrat from Pennsylvania, tried faithfully and earnestly to arrest the progress of fraud and violence; but he was removed by President Pierce, and Wilson Shannon of Ohio was sent out in his stead. The free-State settlers, defrauded at the regular election, organized an independent movement and chose Governor Reeder their delegate to Congress to contest the seat of Whitfield. These events, rapidly following each other, caused great indignation throughout the country, in the midst of which the Thirty-fourth Congress assembled in December, 1855. After a prolonged struggle, Nathaniel P. Banks was chosen Speaker over William Aiken. It was a significant circumstance, noted at the time, that the successful candidate came from Massachusetts, and the defeated one from South Carolina. It was a still more ominous fact that Banks was chosen by votes wholly from the free States, and that every vote from the slave States was given to Mr. Aiken, except that of Mr. Cullen of Delaware, and that of Henry Winter Davis of Maryland, who declined to vote for either candidate. It was the first instance in the history of the government in which a candidate for Speaker had been chosen without support from both sections. It was a distinctive victory of the free States over the consolidated power of the slave States. It marked an epoch.

CANVASS FOR THE PRESIDENCY.

The year 1856 opened with this critical, this unprecedented condition of affairs. In all classes there was deep excitement. With thoughtful men, both North and South, there was serious solicitude. The country approached the strife of another Presidential election with the consciences of men thoroughly aroused, with their passions profoundly stirred. Three parties were coming into the field, and it seemed impossible that any candidate could secure the approval of a majority of the voters in the Union. In the Democratic ranks there was angry contention. President Pierce, who had risked every thing for the South, and had received unmeasured obloquy in the North, was naturally anxious that his administration should be approved by his own party. With all the patronage at his command, he vigorously sought a renomination. But the party desired victory, and they feared a contest which involved an approval of the President's recreancy to solemn pledges voluntarily given. He had been inaugurated with the applause and confidence of a nation. He was sustained in the end by a helpless faction of a disorganized party.

The distinguished secretary of State suffered with the President. Mr. Marcy had personally disapproved the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, but he made no opposition, and the people held him equally if not doubly guilty. It was said at the time that New- York friends urged him to save his high reputation by resigning his seat in the cabinet. But he remained, in the delusive hope that he should receive credit for the evil he might prevent. He was pertinently reminded that the evil he might prevent would never be known, whereas the evil to which he consented would be read of all men. New York had hopelessly revolted from Democratic control, and Mr. Marcy's name was not presented as a Presidential candidate, though he was at that time the ablest statesman of the Democratic party. Mr. Douglas was also unavailable. He had gained great popularity in the South by his course in repealing the Missouri Compromise, but he had been visited with signal condemnation in the North. His own State, always Democratic, which had stood firmly for the party even in the overthrow of 1840, had now failed to sustain him,--had, indeed, pointedly rebuked him by choosing an opposition Legislature and sending Lyman Trumbull, then an anti- slavery Republican, as his colleague in the Senate. General Cass was seventy-four years old, and he was under the same condemnation with Pierce and Marcy and Douglas. He had voted to repeal the Missouri Compromise, and Michigan, which had never before faltered in his support, now turned against him and embittered his declining years by an expression of popular disapproval, which could not have been more emphatic.

The candidates urged for the nomination were all from the North. By a tacit but general understanding, the South repressed the ambition of its leaders and refused to present any one of the prominent statesmen from that section. Southern men designed to put the North to a test, and they wished to give Northern Democrats every possible advantage in waging a waging a warfare in which the fruits of victory were to be wholly enjoyed by the South. If they had wished it, they could have nominated a Southern candidate who was at that moment far stronger than any other man in the Democratic party. General Sam Houston had a personal history as romantic as that of an ancient crusader. He was a native of Virginia, a representative in Congress from Tennessee, and Governor of that State before he was thirty-five. He was the intimate and trusted friend of Jackson. Having resigned his governorship on account of domestic trouble, he fled from civilized life, joined the Indians of the Western plains, roved with them for years, adopted their habits, and was made chief of a tribe. Returning to association with white men, he emigrated to Texas and led the revolt against Mexico, fought battles and was victorious, organized a new republic and was made its President. Then he turned to his native land, bearing in his hand the gift of a great dominion. Once more under the Union flag, he sat in the Capitol as a senator of the United States from Texas. At threescore years he was still in the full vigor of life. Always a member of the Democratic party he was a devoted adherent of the Union, and his love for it had but increased in exile. He stood by Mr. Clay against the Southern Democrats in the angry contest of 1850, declaring that "if the Union must be dismembered" he "prayed God that its ruins might be the monument of his own grave." He "desired no epitaph to tell that he survived it." Against the madness of repealing the Missouri Compromise he entered a protest and a warning. He notified his Southern friends that the dissolution of the Union might be involved in the dangerous step. He alone, of the Southern Democrats in the Senate, voted against the mischievous measure. When three thousand clergymen of New England sent their remonstrance against the repeal, they were fiercely attacked and denounced by Douglas and by senators from the South. Houston vindicated their right to speak and did battle for them with a warmth and zeal which specially commended him to Northern sympathy. All these facts combined--his romantic history, his unflinching steadiness of purpose, his unswerving devotion to the Union--would have made him an irresistibly strong candidate had he been presented. But the very sources of his strength were the sources of his weakness. His nomination would have been a rebuke to every man who had voted for the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, and, rather than submit to that, the Southern Democrats, and Northern Democrats like Pierce and Douglas and Cass, would accept defeat. Victory with Houston would be their condemnation. But in rejecting him they lost in large degree the opportunity to recover the strength and popularity and power of the Democratic party which had all been forfeited by the maladministration of Pierce.

NOMINATION OF JAMES BUCHANAN.

With Houston impracticable, other Southern candidates purposely withheld, and all the Northern candidates in Congress or of the administration disabled, the necessity of the situation pointed to one man. The Democratic managers in whose hands the power lay were not long in descrying him. Mr. Buchanan had gone to England as minister directly after the inauguration of Pierce. He had been absent from the country during all the troubles and the blunders of the Democracy, and never before was an alibi so potential in acquitting a man of actual or imputed guilt. He had been a candidate for the Presidency ever since 1844, but had not shown much strength. He was originally a Federalist. He was somewhat cold in temperament and austere in manners, but of upright character and blameless life. He lacked the affability of Cass, the gracious heartiness of Pierce, the bluff cordiality of Douglas. But he was a man of ability, and had held high rank as a senator and as secretary of State. Above all he had never given a vote offensive to the South. Indeed, his Virginia friend, Henry A. Wise, boasted that his record was as spotless as that of Calhoun.

Buchanan's hour had come. He was a necessity to the South, a necessity to his party; and against the combined force of all the ambitious men who sought the place, he was nominated. But he had a severe struggle. President Pierce and Senator Douglas each made a persistent effort. On the first ballot Buchanan received 135 votes, Pierce 122, Douglas 33. Through sixteen ballots the contest was stubbornly maintained, Buchanan gaining steadily but slowly. Pierce was at last withdrawn, and the convention gave Buchanan 168, Douglas 121. No further resistance was made, and, amid acclamation and rejoicing, Buchanan was declared to be the unanimous choice of the convention. Major John C. Breckinridge of Kentucky, a young man of popularity and promise, was nominated for the Vice- Presidency.

Before the nomination of Buchanan and Breckinridge another Presidential ticket had been placed in the field. The pro-slavery section of the American party and the ghastly remnant of the Whigs had presented Mr. Fillmore for the Presidency, and had associated with him Andrew Jackson Donelson of Tennessee as candidate for the Vice-Presidency. On the engrossing question of the day Mr. Buchanan and Mr. Fillmore did not represent antagonistic ideas, and between them there could be no contest to arouse enthusiasm or even to enlist interest in the North. The movement for Fillmore afforded a convenient shelter for that large class of men who had not yet made up their minds as to the real issue of slavery extension or slavery prohibition.

The Republican party had meanwhile been organizing and consolidating. During the years 1854 and 1855 it had acquired control of the governments in a majority of the free States, and it promptly called a national convention to meet in Philadelphia in June, 1856. The Democracy saw at once that a new and dangerous opponent was in the field,--an opponent that stood upon principle and shunned expediency, that brought to its standard a great host of young men, and that won to its service a very large proportion of the talent, the courage, and the eloquence of the North. The convention met for a purpose and it spoke boldly. It accepted the issue as presented by the men of the South, and it offered no compromise. In its ranks were all shades of anti-slavery opinion,--the patient Abolitionist, the Free-Soiler of the Buffalo platform, the Democrats who had supported the Wilmot Proviso, the Whigs who had followed Seward.

NOMINATION OF JOHN C. FREMONT.

There was no strife about candidates. Mr. Seward was the recognized head of the party, but he did not desire the nomination. He agreed with his faithful mentor, Thurlow Weed, that his time had not come, and that his sphere of duty was still in the Senate. Salmon P. Chase was Governor of Ohio, waiting re-election to the Senate, and, like Seward, not anxious for a nomination where election was regarded as improbable if not impossible. The more conservative and timid section of the party advocated the nomination of Judge McLean of the Supreme Court, who for many years had enjoyed a shadowy mention for the Presidency in Whig journals of a certain type. But Judge McLean was old and the Republican party was young. He belonged to the past, the party was looking to the future. It demanded a more energetic and attractive candidate, and John C. Fremont was chosen on the first ballot. He was forty-three years of age, with a creditable record in the Regular Army, and wide fame as a scientific explorer in the Western mountain ranges, then the terra incognita of the continent. He was a native of South Carolina, and had married the brilliant and accomplished daughter of Colonel Benton. Always a member of the Democratic party, he was so closely identified with the early settlement of California that he was elected one of her first senators. To the tinge of romance in his history were added the attractions of a winning address and an auspicious name.

The movement in his behalf had been quietly and effectively organized for several months preceding the convention. It had been essentially aided if not indeed originated by the elder Francis P. Blair, who had the skill derived from long experience in political management. Mr. Blair was a devoted friend of Benton, had been intimate with Jackson, and intensely hostile to Calhoun. As editor of the Globe, he had exercised wide influence during the Presidential terms of Jackson and Van Buren, but when Polk was inaugurated he was supplanted in administration confidence by Thomas Ritchie of the State-rights' school, who was brought from Virginia to found another paper. Mr. Blair was a firm Union man, and, though he had never formally withdrawn from the Democratic party, he was now ready to leave it because of the Disunion tendencies of its Southern leaders. He was a valuable friend to Fremont, and gave to him the full advantage of his experience and his sagacity.

William L. Dayton of New Jersey, who had served with distinction in the Senate, was selected for the Vice-Presidency. His principal competitor in the only ballot which was taken was Abraham Lincoln of Illinois. This was the first time that Mr. Lincoln was conspicuously named outside of his own State. He had been a member of the Thirtieth Congress, 1847-9, but being a modest man he had so little forced himself into notice that when his name was proposed for Vice-President, inquiries as to who he was were heard from all parts of the convention.

The principles enunciated by the Democratic and Republican parties on the slavery question formed the only subject for discussion during the canvass in the free States. From the beginning no doubt was expressed that Mr. Buchanan would find the South practically consolidated in his favor. Electoral tickets for Fremont were not presented in the slave States, and Fillmore's support in that section was weakened by his obvious inability to carry any of the free States. The canvass, therefore, rapidly narrowed to a contest between Buchanan and Fremont in the North. The Republican Convention had declared it to be "both the right and imperative duty of Congress to prohibit in the Territories those twin relics of barbarism,-- polygamy and slavery." The Democratic Convention had presented a very elaborate and exhaustive series of resolutions touching the slavery question. They indorsed the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, and recognized the "right of the people of all the territories to form a constitution with or without domestic slavery." The resolution was artfully constructed. Read in one way it gave to the people of the Territories the right to determine the question for themselves. It thus upheld the doctrine of "popular sovereignty" which Mr. Douglas had announced as the very spirit of the Act organizing Kansas and Nebraska. A closer analysis of the Democratic declaration, however, showed that this "popular sovereignty" was not to be exercised until the people of the Territory were sufficiently numerous to form a State constitution and apply for admission to the Union, and that meanwhile in all the Territories the slave- holder had the right to settle and to be protected in the possession of his peculiar species of property. In fine, the Republicans declared in plain terms that slavery should by positive law of the nation be excluded from the Territories. The Democrats flatly opposed the doctrine of Congressional prohibition, but left a margin for doubt as to the true construction of the Constitution, and of the Act repealing the Missouri Compromise, thus enabling their partisans to present one issue in the North, and another in the South.

The Democratic candidate in his letter of acceptance did not seek to resolve the mystery of the platform, but left the question just as he found it in the resolutions of the convention. The result was that Northern people supported Mr. Buchanan in the belief, so energetically urged by Mr. Douglas, that the people of the Territories had the right to determine the slavery question for themselves at any time. The Southern people supported Mr. Buchanan in the full faith that slavery was to be protected in the Territories until a State government should be formed and admission to the Union secured. The Democratic doctrine of the North and the Democratic doctrine of the South were, therefore, in logic and in fact, irreconcilably hostile. By the one, slavery could never enter a Territory unless the inhabitants thereof desired and approved it. By the other slavery had a foot-hold in the Territories under the Constitution of the United States, and could not be dislodged or disturbed by the inhabitants of a Territory even though ninety-nine out of every hundred were opposed to it. In the Territorial Legislatures laws might be passed to protect slavery but not to exclude it. From such contradictory constructions in the same party, conflicts were certain to arise.

MR. BUCHANAN ELECTED PRESIDENT.

The Democrats of the North sought, not unsuccessfully, to avoid the slavery question altogether. They urged other considerations upon popular attention. Mr. Buchanan was presented as a National candidate, supported by troops of friends in every State of the Union. Fremont was denounced as a sectional candidate, whose election by Northern votes on an anti-slavery platform would dissolve the Union. This incessant cry exerted a wide influence in the North and was especially powerful in commercial circles. But in spite of it, Fremont gained rapidly in the free States. The condition of affairs in Kansas imparted to his supporters a desperate energy, based on principle and roused to anger. An elaborate and exciting speech on the "Crime against Kansas," by Senator Sumner, was followed by an assault from Preston S. Brooks, a member of the House from South Carolina, which seriously injured Mr. Sumner, and sensibly increased the exasperation of the North. When a resolution of the House to expel Brooks was under consideration, he boasted that "a blow struck by him then would be followed by a revolution." This but added fuel to a Northern flame already burning to white- heat. Votes by tens of thousands declared that they did not desire a Union which was held together by the forbearance or permission of any man or body of men, and they welcomed a test of any character that should determine the supremacy of the Constitution and the strength of the government.

The canvass grew in animation and earnestness to the end, the Republicans gaining strength before the people of the North every day. But Buchanan's election was not a surprise. Indeed, it had been generally expected. He received the electoral votes of every Southern State except Maryland, which pronounced for Fillmore. In the North, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Indiana, Illinois, and California voted for Buchanan. The other eleven free States, beginning with Maine and ending with Iowa, declared for Fremont. The popular vote was for Buchanan 1,838,169, Fremont 1,341,264, Fillmore 874,534. With the people, therefore, Mr. Buchanan was in a minority, the combined opposition outnumbering his vote by nearly four hundred thousand.

The Republicans, far from being discouraged, felt and acted as men who had won the battle. Indeed, the moral triumph was theirs, and they believed that the actual victory at the polls was only postponed. The Democrats were mortified and astounded by the large popular vote against them. The loss of New York and Ohio, the narrow escape from defeat in Pennsylvania, the rebuke of Michigan to their veteran leader General Cass, intensified by the choice of Chandler as his successor in the Senate, the absolute consolidation of New England against them, all tended to humiliate and discourage the party. They had lost ten States which General Pierce had carried in 1852, and they had a watchful, determined foe in the field, eager for another trial of strength. The issue was made, the lines of battles were drawn. Freedom or slavery in the Territories was to be fought to the end, without flinching, and without compromise.

Mr. Buchanan came to the Presidency under very different auspices from those which had attended the inauguration of President Pierce. The intervening four years had written important chapters in the history of the slavery contest. In 1853 there was no organized opposition that could command even a respectable minority in a single State. In 1857 a party distinctly and unequivocally pledged to resist the extension of slavery into free territory had control of eleven free States and was hotly contesting the possession of the others. The distinct and avowed marshalling of a solid North against a solid South had begun, and the result of the Presidential election of 1856 settled nothing except that a mightier struggle was in the future.

DECISION IN THE CASE OF DRED SCOTT.

After Buchanan's inauguration events developed rapidly. The Democrats had carried the House, and therefore had control of every department of the government. The effort to force slavery upon Kansas was resumed with increased zeal. Strafford's policy of "thorough" was not more resolute or more absolute than that now adopted by the Southern leaders with a new lease of power confirmed to them by the result of the election. The Supreme Court came to their aid, and, not long after the new administration was installed, delivered their famous decision in the Dred Scott case. This case involved the freedom of a single family that had been held as slaves, but it gave occasion to the Court for an exhaustive treatment of the political question which was engrossing public attention. The conclusion of the best legal minds of the country was that the opinion of the Court went far beyond the real question at issue, and that many of its most important points were to be regarded as obiter dicta. The Court declared that the Act of Congress prohibiting slavery in the Territories north of 36 deg. 30' was unconstitutional and void. The repeal of the Missouri Compromise was therefore approved by the highest judicial tribunal. Not only was the repeal approved, its re-enactment was forbidden. No matter how large a majority might be returned to Congress in favor of again setting up the old landmark which had stood in peace and in honor for thirty-four years, with the sanction of all departments of the government, the Supreme Court had issued an edict that it could not be done. The Court had declared that slavery was as much entitled to protection on the national domain as any other species of property, and that it was unconstitutional for Congress to decree freedom for a Territory of the United States. The pro-slavery interest had apparently won a great triumph. They naturally claimed that the whole question was settled in their favor. But in fact the decision of the Court had only rendered the contest more intense and more bitter. It was received throughout the North with scorn and indignation. It entered at once into the political discussions of the people, and remained there until, with all other issues on the slavery question, it was remanded to the arbitrament of war.

Five of the judges--an absolute majority of the court--were Southern men, and had always been partisan Democrats of the State-rights' school. People at once remembered that every other class of lawyers in the South had for thirty years been rigidly excluded from the bench. John J. Crittenden had been nominated and rejected by a Democratic Senate. George E. Badger of North Carolina had shared the same fate. They were followers of Clay, and not to be trusted by the new South in any exigency where the interests of slavery and the perpetuity of the Union should come in conflict. Instead, therefore, of strengthening the Democratic party, the whole effect of the Dred Scott decision was to develop a more determined type of anti-slavery agitation. This tendency was promoted by the lucid and exhaustive opinion of Benjamin R. Curtis, one of the two dissenting judges. Judge Curtis was not a Republican. He had been a Whig of the most conservative type, appointed to the bench by President Fillmore through the influence of Mr. Webster and the advice of Rufus Choate. In legal learning, and in dignity and purity of character, he was unsurpassed. His opinion became, therefore, of inestimable value to the cause of freedom. It represented the well-settled conclusion of the most learned jurists, was in harmony with the enlightened conscience of the North, and gave a powerful rallying-cry to the opponents of slavery. It upheld with unanswerable arguments the absolute right of Congress to prohibit slavery in all the Territories of the Union. Every judge delivered his views separately, but the dissenting opinion of Judge McLean, as well as of the six who sustained the views of the Chief Justice, arrested but a small share of public attention. The argument for the South had been made by the venerable and learned Chief Justice. The argument for the North had been made by Justice Curtis. Perhaps in the whole history of judicial decisions no two opinions were ever so widely read by the mass of people outside the legal profession.

DECISION IN THE CASE OF DRED SCOTT.

It was popularly believed that the whole case was made up in order to afford an opportunity for the political opinions delivered by the Court. This was an extreme view not justified by the facts. But in the judgment of many conservative men there was a delay in rendering the decision which had its origin in motives that should not have influenced a judicial tribunal. The purport and scope of the decision were undoubtedly known to President Pierce before the end of his term, and Mr. Buchanan imprudently announced in his Inaugural address that "the point of time when the people of a Territory can decide the question of slavery for themselves" will "be speedily and finally settled by the Supreme Court, before whom it is now pending." How Mr. Buchanan could know, or how he was entitled to know, that a question not directly or necessarily involved in a case pending before the Supreme Court "would be speedily and finally settled" became a subject of popular inquiry. Anti-slavery speakers and anti-slavery papers indulged in severe criticism both of Mr. Buchanan and the Court, declaring that the independence of the co-ordinate branches of the government was dangerously invaded when the Executive was privately advised of a judicial decision in advance of its delivery by the Court. William Pitt Fessenden, who always spoke with precision and never with passion, asserted in the Senate that the Court, after hearing the argument, had reserved its judgment until the Presidential election was decided. He avowed his belief that Mr. Buchanan would have been defeated if the decision had not been withheld, and that in the event of Fremont's election "we should never have heard of a doctrine so utterly at variance with all truth, so utterly destitute of all legal logic, so founded on error, and so unsupported by any thing resembling argument."

Mr. Lincoln, whose singular powers were beginning to be appreciated, severely attacked the decision in a public speech in Illinois, not merely for its doctrine, but for the mode in which the decision had been brought about, and the obvious political intent of the judges. He showed how the Kansas-Nebraska Act left the people of the Territories perfectly free to settle the slavery question for themselves, "subject only to the Constitution of the United States!" That qualification he said was "the exactly fitted niche for the Dred Scott decision to come in and declare the perfect freedom to be no freedom at all." He then gave a humorous illustration by asking in homely but telling phrase, "if we saw a lot of framed timbers gotten out at different times and places by different workmen,--Stephen and Franklin and Roger and James,--and if we saw these timbers joined together and exactly make the frame of a house, with tenons and mortises all fitting, what is the conclusion? We find it impossible not to believe that Stephen and Franklin and Roger and James all understood one another from the beginning, and all worked upon a common plan before the first blow was struck." This quaint mode of arraigning the two President, the Chief Justice and Senator Douglas, was extraordinarily effective with the masses. In a single paragraph, humorously expressed, he had framed an indictment against four men upon which he lived to secure a conviction before the jury of the American people.

The decision was rendered especially odious throughout the North by the use of certain unfortunate expressions which in the heat of the hour were somewhat distorted by the anti-slavery press, and made to appear unwarrantably offensive. But there was no misrepresentation and no misunderstanding of the essential position of the Court on the political question. It was unmistakably held that ownership in slaves was as much entitled to protection under the Constitution in the Territories of the United States as any other species of property, and that Congress possessed no power over the subject except the power to legislate in aid of slavery. The decision was at war with the practice and traditions of the government from its foundation, and set aside the matured convictions of two generations of conservative statesmen from the South as well as from the North. It proved injurious to the Court, which thenceforward was assailed most bitterly in the North and defended with intemperate zeal in the South. Personally upright and honorable as the judges were individually known to be, there was a conviction in the minds of a majority of Northern people, that on all issues affecting the institution of slavery they were unable to deliver a just judgment; that an Abolitionist was, in their sight, the chief of sinners, deserving to be suppressed by law; that the anti- slavery agitation was conducted, according to their belief, by two classes,--fanatics and knaves,--both of whom should be promptly dealt with; the fanatics in strait-jackets and the knaves at the cart's tail.

Chief Justice Taney, who delivered the opinion which proved so obnoxious throughout the North, was not only a man of great attainments, but was singularly pure and upright in his life and conversation. Had his personal character been less exalted, or his legal learning less eminent, there would have been less surprise and less indignation. But the same qualities which rendered his judgment of apparent value to the South, called out intense hostility in the North. The lapse of years, however, cools the passions and tempers the judgment. It has brought many anti-slavery men to see that an unmerited share of the obloquy properly attaching to the decision has been visited on the Chief Justice, and that it was unfair to place him under such condemnation, while two associate Justices in the North, Grier and Nelson, joined in the decision without incurring special censure, and lived in honor and veneration to the end of their judicial careers. While, therefore, time has in no degree abated Northern hostility to the Dred Scott decision, it has thrown a more generous light upon the character and action of the eminent Chief Justice who pronounced it. More allowance is made for the excitement and for what he believed to be the exigency of the hour, for the sentiments in which he had been educated, for the force of association, and for his genuine belief that he was doing a valuable work towards the preservation of the Union. His views were held by millions of people around him, and he was swept along by a current which with so many had proved irresistible. Coming to the Bench from Jackson's Cabinet, fresh from the angry controversies of that partisan era, he had proved a most acceptable and impartial judge, earning renown and escaping censure until he dealt directly with the question of slavery. Whatever harm he may have done in that decision was speedily overruled by war, and the country can now contemplate a venerable jurist, in robes that were never soiled by corruption, leading a long life of labor and sacrifice, and achieving a fame in his profession second only to that of Marshall.

CHIEF JUSTICE TANEY AND MR. SUMNER.

The aversion with which the extreme anti-slavery men regarded Chief Justice Taney was strikingly exhibited during the session of Congress following his death. The customary mark of respect in providing a marble bust of the deceased to be placed in the Supreme Court room was ordered by the House without comment or objection. In the Senate the bill was regularly reported from the Judiciary Committee by the chairman, Mr. Trumbull of Illinois, who was at that time a recognized leader in the Republican party. The proposition to pay respect to the memory of the judge who had pronounced the Dred Scott decision was at once savagely attacked by Mr. Sumner. Mr. Trumbull in reply warmly defended the character of the Chief Justice, declaring that he "had added reputation to the Judiciary of the United States throughout the world, and that he was not to be hooted down by exclamations about an emancipated country. Suppose he did make a wrong decision. No man is infallible. He was a great, learned, able judge."

Mr. Sumner rejoined with much temper. He said that "Taney would be hooted down the pages of history, and that an emancipated country would fix upon his name the stigma it deserved. He had administered justice wickedly, had degraded the Judiciary, and had degraded the age." Mr. Wilson followed Mr. Sumner in a somewhat impassioned speech, denouncing the Dred Scott decision "as the greatest crime in the judicial annals of the Republic," and declaring it to be "the abhorrence, the scoff, the jeer, of the patriotic hearts of America." Mr. Reverdy Johnson answered Mr. Sumner with spirit, and pronounced an eloquent eulogium upon Judge Taney. He said, "the senator from Massachusetts will be happy if his name shall stand as high upon the historic page as that of the learned judge who is now no more." Mr. Johnson directed attention to the fact that, whether wrong or right, the Dred Scott decision was one in which a majority of the Supreme Court had concurred, and therefore no special odium should be attached to the name of the venerable Chief Justice. Mr. Johnson believed the decision to be right, and felt that his opinion on a question of law was at least entitled to as much respect as that of either of the senators from Massachusetts, "one of whom did not pretend to be a lawyer at all, while the other was a lawyer for only a few months." He proceeded to vindicate the historical accuracy of the Chief Justice, and answered Mr. Sumner with that amplitude and readiness which Mr. Johnson displayed in every discussion involving legal questions.

Mr. Sumner's protest was vigorously seconded by Mr. Hale of New Hampshire and Mr. Wade of Ohio. The former said that a monument to Taney "would give the lie to all that had been said by the friends of justice, liberty, and down-trodden humanity," respecting the iniquity of the Dred Scott decision. Mr. Wade violently opposed the proposition. He avowed his belief that the "Dred Scott case was got up to give judicial sanction to the enormous iniquity that prevailed in every branch of our government at that period." He declared that "the greater you make Judge Taney's legal acumen the more you dishonor his memory by showing that he sinned against light and knowledge." He insisted that the people of Ohio, whose opinion he professed to represent, "would pay two thousand dollars to hang the late Chief Justice in effigy rather than one thousand dollars for a bust to commemorate his merits."

Mr. McDougall of California spoke in favor of the bill, and commented on the rudeness of Mr. Sumner's speech. Mr. Carlile of West Virginia spoke very effectively in praise of the Chief Justice. If the decision was harsh, he said, no one was justified in attributing it to the personal feelings or desires of the Chief Justice. It was the law he was expounding, and he did it ably and conscientiously. Mr. Sumner concluded the debate by a reply to Reverdy Johnson. He said that, in listening to the senator from Maryland, he was "reminded of a character, known to the Roman Church, who always figures at the canonization of a saint as the Devil's advocate." He added that, if he could help it, "Taney should never be recognized as a saint by any vote of Congress." The incidents of the debate and the names of the participants are given as affording a good illustration of the tone and temper of the times. It was made evident that the opponents of the bill, under Mr. Sumner's lead, would not permit it to come to a vote. It was therefore abandoned on the 23d of February, 1865.

HONORS TO TWO CHIEF JUSTICES.

Nine years after these proceedings, in January, 1874, the name of another Chief Justice, who had died during the recess, came before Congress for honor and commemoration. The Senate was still controlled by a large Republican majority, though many changes had taken place. All the senators who had spoken in the previous debate were gone, except Mr. Sumner, who had meanwhile been chosen for his fourth term, and Mr. Wilson, who had been elevated to the Vice-Presidency. Mr. Howe of Wisconsin, a more radical Republican than Mr. Trumbull, reported from the Judiciary Committee a bill originally proposed by Senator Stevenson of Kentucky, paying the same tribute of respect to Roger Brooke Taney and Salmon Portland Chase. The bill was passed without debate and with the unanimous consent of the Senate.

Mr. Taney was appointed Chief Justice in 1836, when in his sixtieth year. He presided over the court until his death in October, 1864, a period of twenty-eight years. The Dred Scott decision received no respect after Mr. Lincoln became President, and, without reversal by the court, was utterly disregarded. When Mr. Chase became Chief Justice, colored persons were admitted to practice in the courts of the United States. When President Lincoln, in 1861, authorized the denial of the writ of habeas corpus to persons arrested on a charge of treason, Chief Justice Taney delivered an opinion in the case of John Merryman, denying the President's power to suspend the writ, declaring that Congress only was competent to do it. The Executive Department paid no attention to the decision, and Congress, at the ensuing session, added its sanction to the suspension. The Chief Justice, though loyal to the Union, was not in sympathy with the policy or the measures of Mr. Lincoln's administration.

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Chapter VII

Review (continued).--Continuance of the Struggle for Kansas.-- List of Governors.--Robert J. Walker appointed Governor by President Buchanan.--His Failure.--The Lecompton Constitution fraudulently adopted.--Its Character.--Is transmitted to Congress by President Buchanan.--He recommends the Admission of Kansas under its Provisions. --Pronounces Kansas a Slave State.--Gives Full Scope and Effect to the Dred Scott Decision.--Senator Douglas refuses to sustain the Lecompton Iniquity.--His Political Embarrassment.--Breaks with the Administration.--Value of his Influence against Slavery in Kansas. --Lecompton Bill passes the Senate.--Could not be forced through the House.--The English Bill substituted and passed.--Kansas spurns the Bribe.--Douglas regains his Popularity with Northern Democrats. --Illinois Republicans bitterly hostile to him.--Abraham Lincoln nominated to contest the Re-election of Douglas to the Senate.-- Lincoln challenges Douglas to a Public Discussion.--Character of Each as a Debater.--They meet Seven Times in Debate.--Douglas re- elected.--Southern Senators arraign Douglas.--His Defiant Answer. --Danger of Sectional Division in the Democratic Party.

The Dred Scott decision, in connection with the Democratic triumph in the national election, had a marked effect upon the struggle for Kansas. The pro-slavery men felt fresh courage for the work, as they found themselves assured of support from the administration, and upheld by the dogmas of the Supreme Court. The Territory thus far had been one continued scene of disorder and violence. For obvious reasons, the administration of President Pierce had selected its governors from the North, and each, in succession, failed to placate the men who were bent on making Kansas a slave State. Andrew H. Reeder, Wilson Shannon, John W. Geary, had, each in turn, tried, and each in turn failed. Mr. Buchanan now selected Robert J. Walker for the difficult task. Mr. Walker was a Southern man in all his relations, though by birth a Pennsylvanian. He had held high stations, and possessed great ability. It was believed that he, if any one, could govern the Territory in the interest of the South, and, at the same time, retain a decent degree of respect and confidence in the North. As an effective aid to this policy, Frederick P. Stanton, who had acquired an honorable reputation as representative in Congress from Tennessee, was sent out as secretary of the Territory.

THE LECOMPTON CONSTITUTION.

Governor Walker failed. He could do much, but he could not placate an element that was implacable. Contrary to his desires, and against his authority, a convention, called by the fraudulent Legislature, and meeting at Lecompton, submitted a pro-slavery constitution to the people, preparatory to asking the admission of Kansas as a State. The people were not permitted to vote for or against the constitution, but were narrowed to the choice of taking the constitution with slavery or the constitution without slavery. If the decision should be adverse to slavery, there were still some provisions in the constitution, not submitted to popular decision, which would postpone the operation of the free clause. The whole contrivance was fraudulent, wicked, and in retrospect incredible. Naturally the Free-state men refused to have any thing to do with the scandalous device, intended to deceive and betray them. The constitution with slavery was, therefore, adopted by an almost unanimous vote of those who were not citizens of Kansas. Many thousands of votes were returned which were never cast at all, either by citizens of Kansas or marauders from Missouri. It is not possible, without using language that would seem immoderate, to describe the enormity of the whole transaction. The constitution no more represented the will or the wishes of the people of Kansas than of the people of Ohio or Vermont.

Shameful and shameless as was the entire procedure, it was approved by Mr. Buchanan. The Lecompton Constitution was transmitted to Congress, accompanied by a message from the President recommending the prompt admission of the State. He treated the anti-slavery population of Kansas as in rebellion against lawful authority, recognized the invaders from Missouri as rightfully entitled to form a constitution for the State, and declared that "Kansas is at this moment (Feb. 2, 1858) as much a slave State as Georgia or South Carolina." The Dred Scott decision occupied a prominent place in this extraordinary message and received the most liberal interpretation in favor of slavery. The President declared that "it has been solemnly adjudged by the highest judicial tribunal known to our laws that slavery exists in Kansas by virtue of the Constitution of the United States." This was giving the fullest scope to the extreme and revolting doctrine put forward by the advocates of slavery, and, had it been made effective respecting the Territories, there are many reasons for believing that a still more offensive step might have been taken respecting the anti- slavery action of the States.

The attempt to admit Kansas, under the Lecompton Constitution, proved disastrous to the Democratic party. The first decided break was that of Senator Douglas. He refused to sustain the iniquity. He had gone far with the pro-slavery men, but he refused to take this step. He had borne great burdens in their interest, but this was the additional pound that broke the back of his endurance. When the Dred Scott decision was delivered, Mr. Douglas had applauded it, and, as Mr. Lincoln charged, had assented to it before it was pronounced. With his talent for political device, he had doubtless contrived some argument or fallacy by which he could reconcile that judicial edict with his doctrine of "popular sovereignty," and thus maintain his standing with the Northern Democracy without losing his hold on the South. But events traveled too rapidly for him. The pro-slavery men were so eager for the possession of Kansas that they could not adjust their measures to the needs of Mr. Douglas's political situation. They looked at the question from one point, Mr. Douglas from another. They saw that if Kansas could be forced into the Union with the Lecompton Constitution they would gain a slave State. Mr. Douglas saw that if he should aid in that political crime he would lose Illinois. It was more important to the South to secure Kansas as a slave State than to carry Illinois for Mr. Douglas. It was more important for Mr. Douglas to hold Illinois for himself than to give the control of Kansas to the South. Indeed, his Northern friends had been for some time persuaded that his only escape from the dangerous embarrassments surrounding him was in the admission of Kansas as a free State. If the Missouri Compromise had not been repealed, a free State was assured. If Kansas should become a slave State in consequence of that repeal, it would, in the excited condition of the popular mind, crush Douglas in the North, and bring his political career to a discreditable end.

Mr. Douglas had come, therefore, to the parting of the ways. He realized that he was rushing on political destruction, and that, if he supported the vulgar swindle perpetrated at Lecompton, he would be repudiated by the great State which had exalted him and almost idolized him as a political leader. He determined, therefore, to take a bold stand against the administration on this issue. It was an important event, not only to himself, but to his party; not only to his party, but to the country. Rarely, in our history, has the action of a single person been attended by a public interest as universal; by applause so hearty in the North, by denunciation so bitter in the South. In the debate which followed, Douglas exhibited great power. He had a tortuous record to defend, but he defended it with extraordinary ability and adroitness. From time to time, during the progress of the contest, he was on the point of yielding to some compromise which would have destroyed the heroism and value of his position. But he was sustained by the strong will of others when he himself wavered--appalled, as he often was, by the sacrifice he was making of the Southern support, for which he had labored so long, and endured so much.

SENATOR BRODERICK'S DEATH.

Senator Broderick of California imparted largely of his own courage and enthusiasm to Douglas at the critical juncture, and perhaps saved him from a surrender of his proud position. Throughout the entire contest Broderick showed remarkable vigor and determination. Considering the defects of his intellectual training in early life, he displayed unusual power as a political leader and public speaker. He was a native of Washington, born of Irish parents, and was brought up to the trade of a stone-mason. He went to California among the pioneers of 1849, and soon after took part in the fierce political contests of the Pacific coast. Though a Democrat, he instinctively took the Northern side against the arrogant domination of the Southern wing of the party, led by William H. Gwin. Broderick was elected to the United States Senate as Gwin's colleague in 1856, and at once joined Douglas in opposition to the Lecompton policy of the administration. His position aroused fierce hostility on the part of the Democratic leaders of California. The contest grew so bitter in the autumn of 1859, when Broderick was canvassing his State, as to lead to a duel with Judge Terry, a prominent Democrat of Southern birth. Broderick was killed at the first fire. The excitement was greater in the country than ever attended a duel, except when Hamilton fell at the hands of Burr in 1804. The Graves and Cilley duel of 1838, with its fatal ending, affected the whole nation, but not so profoundly as did the death of Broderick. The oration of Senator Baker, delivered in San Francisco at the funeral, so stirred the people that violence was feared. The bloody tragedy influenced political parties, and contributed in no small degree to Lincoln's triumph in California the ensuing year.

In the peculiar position in which Douglas was placed, still maintaining his membership of the Democratic party while opposing the administration on the Lecompton question, he naturally resorted to arguments which were not always of a character to enlist the approval of men conscientiously opposed to slavery. The effect of the arguments, however, was invaluable to those who were resisting the imposition of slavery upon Kansas against the wish of a majority of her people, and Republicans could be content with the end without justifying the means. Douglas frankly avowed that he did not care whether slavery was voted up or voted down, but he demanded that an honest, untrammeled ballot should be secured to the citizens of the Territory. Without the aid of Douglas, the "Crime against Kansas," so eloquently depicted by Mr. Sumner, would have been complete. With his aid, it was prevented.

The Lecompton Bill passed the Senate by a vote of 33 to 25. Besides Broderick, Douglas carried with him only two Democratic senators, --Stuart of Michigan, and Pugh of Ohio. The two remaining members of the old Whig party from the South, who had been wandering as political orphans since the disastrous defeat of 1852,--Bell of Tennessee, and Crittenden of Kentucky,--honored themselves and the ancient Whig traditions by voting against the bill. In view of the events of the preceding four years, it was a significant spectacle in the Senate when Douglas voted steadily with Seward and Sumner and Fessenden and Wade against the political associations of a lifetime. It meant, to the far-seeing, more than a temporary estrangement, and it foretold results in the political field more important than any which had been developed since the foundation of the Republican party.

The resistance to the Lecompton Bill in the House was unconquerable. The Administration could not, with all its power and patronage, enforce its passage. Anxious to avert the mortification of an absolute and unqualified defeat, the supporters of the scheme changed their ground, and offered a new measure, moved by Mr. William H. English of Indiana, submitting the entire constitution to a vote of the people. If adopted, the constitution carried with it a generous land grant to the new State. If rejected, the alternative was not only the withdrawal of the land grant, but indefinite postponement of the whole question of admission. It was simply a bribe, cunningly and unscrupulously contrived, to induce the people of Kansas to accept a pro-slavery constitution. It was not so outrageous as it would have been to force the constitution upon the people without allowing them to vote upon it at all, and it gave a shadow of excuse to certain Democrats, who did not wish to separate from their party, for returning to the ranks. The bill was at last forced through the House by 112 votes to 103. Twelve Democrats, to their honor be it said, refused to yield. Douglas held all his political associates from Illinois, while the President failed to consolidate the Democrats from Pennsylvania. John Hickman and Henry Chapman honorably and tenaciously held their ground to the last against every phase of the outrage. In New York, John B. Haskin and Horace F. Clarke refused to yield, though great efforts were made to induce them to support the administration. The Senate promptly concurred in the English proposition.

LECOMPTON CONSTITUTION REJECTED.

But Kansas would not sell her birthright for a mess of pottage. She had fought too long for freedom to be bribed to the support of slavery. She had at last a free vote, and rejected the Lecompton Constitution, land grant and all, by a majority of more than ten thousand. The struggle was over. The pro-slavery men were defeated. The North was victorious. The repeal of the Missouri Compromise had not brought profit or honor to those who planned it. It had only produced strife, anger, heart-burning, hatred. It had added many drops to the cup of bitterness between North and South, and had filled it to overflowing. It produced evil only, and that continually. The repeal, in the judgment of the North, was a great conspiracy against human freedom. In the Southern States it was viewed as an honest effort to recover rights of which they had been unjustly deprived. Each section held with firmness to its own belief, and the four years of agitation had separated them so widely that a return to fraternal feeling seemed impossible. Confidence, the plant of slowest growth, had been destroyed. Who could restore it to life and strength?

Douglas had, in large degree, redeemed himself in the North from the obloquy to which he had been subjected since the repeal of the Missouri Compromise. The victory for free Kansas was perhaps to an undue extent ascribed to him. The completeness of that victory was everywhere recognized, and the lawless intruders who had worked so hard to inflict slavery on the new Territory gradually withdrew. In the South, Douglas was covered with maledictions. But for his influence, Southern men felt that Kansas would have been admitted with a pro-slavery constitution, and the senatorial equality of the South firmly re-established. Northern Republicans, outside of Illinois, were in a forgiving frame of mind toward Douglas; and he had undoubtedly regained a very large share of his old popularity. But Illinois Republicans were less amiable towards him. They would not forget that he had broken down an anti-slavery barrier which had been reared with toil and sanctified by time. He had not, as they alleged, turned back from any test exacted by the South, until he had reached the point where another step forward involved political death to himself. They would not credit his hostility to the Lecompton Constitution to any nobler motive than the instinct of self-preservation. This was a harsh judgment, and yet a most natural one. It inspired the Republicans of Illinois, and they prepared to contest the return of Douglas to the Senate by formally nominating Abraham Lincoln as an opposing candidate.

The contest that ensued was memorable. Douglas had an herculean task before him. The Republican party was young, strong, united, conscious of its power, popular, growing. The Democratic party was rent with faction, and the Administration was irrevocably opposed to the return of Douglas to the Senate. He entered the field, therefore, with a powerful opponent in front, and with defection and betrayal in the rear. He was everywhere known as a debater of singular skill. His mind was fertile in resources. He was master of logic. No man perceived more quickly than he the strength or the weakness of an argument, and no one excelled him in the use of sophistry and fallacy. Where he could not elucidate a point to his own advantage, he would fatally becloud it for his opponent. In that peculiar style of debate, which, in its intensity, resembles a physical contest, he had no equal. He spoke with extraordinary readiness. There was no halting in his phrase. He used good English, terse, vigorous, pointed. He disregarded the adornments of rhetoric,--rarely used a simile. He was utterly destitute of humor, and had slight appreciation of wit. He never cited historical precedents except from the domain of American politics. Inside that field his knowledge was comprehensive, minute, critical. Beyond it his learning was limited. He was not a reader. His recreations were not in literature. In the whole range of his voluminous speaking it would be difficult to find either a line of poetry or a classical allusion. But he was by nature an orator; and by long practice a debater. He could lead a crowd almost irresistibly to his own conclusions. He could, if he wished, incite a mob to desperate deeds. He was, in short, an able, audacious, almost unconquerable opponent in public discussion.

LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS AS DEBATERS.

It would have been impossible to find any man of the same type able to meet him before the people of Illinois. Whoever attempted it would probably have been destroyed in the first encounter. But the man who was chosen to meet him, who challenged him to the combat, was radically different in every phase of character. Scarcely could two men be more unlike, in mental and moral constitutions, than Abraham Lincoln and Stephen A. Douglas. Mr. Lincoln was calm and philosophic. He loved the truth for the truth's sake. He would not argue from a false premise, or be deceived himself or deceive others by a false conclusion. He had pondered deeply on the issues which aroused him to action. He had given anxious thought to the problems of free government, and to the destiny of the Republic. He had for himself marked out a path of duty, and he walked in it fearlessly. His mental processes were slower but more profound than those of Douglas. He did not seek to say merely the thing which was best for that day's debate, but the thing which would stand the test of time and square itself with eternal justice. He wished nothing to appear white unless it was white. His logic was severe and faultless. He did not resort to fallacy, and could detect it in his opponent, and expose it with merciless directness. He had an abounding sense of humor, and always employed it in illustration of his argument,--never for the mere sake of provoking merriment. In this respect he had the wonderful aptness of Franklin. He often taught a great truth with the felicitous brevity of an AEsop fable. His words did not flow in an impetuous torrent as did those of Douglas, but they were always well chosen, deliberate, and conclusive.

Thus fitted for the contest, these men proceeded to a discussion which at the time was so interesting so as to enchain the attention of the nation,--in its immediate effect so striking as to affect the organization of parties, in its subsequent effect so powerful as to change the fate of millions. Mr. Lincoln had opened his own canvass by a carefully prepared speech in which, after quoting the maxim that a house divided against itself cannot stand, he uttered these weighty words: "I believe this government cannot endure permanently half slave, half free. I do not expect the Union to be dissolved; I do not expect the house to fall; but I do expect it will cease to be divided. It will become all one thing or all the other. Either the opponents of slavery will arrest the farther spread of it, and place it where the public mind shall rest in the belief that it is in the course of ultimate extinction, or its advocates will push it forward till it shall become alike lawful in all the States, old as well as new, north as well as south."

Mr. Lincoln had been warned by intimate friends to whom he had communicated the contents of his speech, in advance of its delivery, that he was treading on dangerous ground, that he would be misrepresented as a disunionist, and that he might fatally damage the Republican party by making its existence synonymous with a destruction of the government. But he was persistent. It was borne into his mind that he was announcing a great truth, and that he would be wronging his own conscience, and to the extent of his influence injuring his country, by withholding it, or in any degree qualifying its declaration. If there was a disposition to avoid the true significance of the contest with the South, he would not be a party to it. He believed he could discern the scope and read the destiny of the impending sectional controversy. He was sure he could see far beyond the present, and hear the voice of the future. He would not close the book; he would not shut his eyes; he would not stop his ears. He avowed his faith, and stood firmly to his creed.

Mr. Douglas naturally, indeed inevitably, made his first and leading speech against these averments of Mr. Lincoln. He had returned to Illinois, after the adjournment of Congress, with a disturbed and restless mind. He had one great ambition,--to re-instate himself as a leader of the national Democracy, and, as incidental and necessary to that end, to carry Illinois against Mr. Lincoln. The issue embodied in Mr. Lincoln's speech afforded him the occasion which he had coveted. His quick eye discerned an opportunity to exclude from the canvass the disagreeable features in his own political career by arraigning Mr. Lincoln as an enemy of the Union and as an advocate of an internecine conflict in which the free States and the slave States should wrestle in deadly encounter. Douglas presented his indictment artfully and with singular force. The two speeches were in all respects characteristic. Each had made a strong presentation of his case, but the superior candor and directness of Mr. Lincoln had made a deep impression on the popular mind.

THE LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS DEBATE.

In the seven public debates which were held as the result of these preliminary speeches, the questions at issue were elaborately and exhaustively treated. The friends of each naturally claimed the victory for their own champion. The speeches were listened to by tens of thousands of eager auditors; but absorbing, indeed unprecedented, as was the interest, the vast throngs behaved with moderation and decorum. The discussion from beginning to end was an amplification of the position which each had taken at the outset. The arguments were held close to the subject, relating solely to the slavery question, and not even incidentally referring to any other political issue. Protection, free trade, internal improvements, the sub-treasury, all the issues, in short, which had divided parties for a long series of years, and on which both speakers entertained very decided views, were omitted from the discussion. The public mind saw but one issue; every thing else was irrelevant. At the first meeting, Douglas addressed a series of questions to Mr. Lincoln, skillfully prepared and well adapted to entrap him in contradictions, or commit him to such extreme doctrine as would ruin his canvass. Mr. Lincoln's answers at the second meeting, held at Freeport, were both frank and adroit. Douglas had failed to gain a point by his resort to the Socratic mode of argument. He had indeed only given Mr. Lincoln an opportunity to exhibit both his candor and his skill. After he had answered, he assumed the offensive, and addressed a series of questions to Mr. Douglas which were constructed with the design of forcing the latter to an unmistakable declaration of his creed. Douglas had been a party to the duplex construction of the Cincinnati platform of 1856, in which the people of the South had been comforted with the doctrine that slavery was protected in the Territories by the Constitution against the authority of Congress and against the power of the Territorial citizens, until the period should be reached, when, under an enabling act to form a constitution for a State government, the majority might decide the question of slavery. Of this doctrine Mr. Breckinridge was the Southern representative, and he had for that very reason been associated with Mr. Buchanan on the Presidential ticket. On the other hand, the North was consoled, it would not be unfair to say cajoled, with the doctrine of popular sovereignty as defined by Mr. Douglas; and this gave to the people of the Territories the absolute right to settle the question of slavery for themselves at any time. The doctrine had, however, been utterly destroyed by the Dred Scott decision, and, to the confusion of all lines of division and distinction, Mr. Douglas had approved the opinion of the Supreme Court.

Douglas had little trouble in making answer in an ad captandum manner to all Mr. Lincoln's questions save one. The crucial test was applied when Mr. Lincoln asked him "if the people of a Territory can, in any lawful way, against the wishes of any citizen of the United States, exclude slavery from their limits prior to the formation of a State constitution?" In the first debate, when Douglas had the opening, he had, in the popular judgment, rather worsted Mr. Lincoln. His greater familiarity with the arts if not the tricks of the stump had given him an advantage. But now Mr. Lincoln had the opening, and he threw Mr. Douglas upon the defensive by the question which reached the very marrow of the controversy. Mr. Lincoln had measured the force of his question, and saw the dilemma in which it would place Douglas. Before the meeting he said, in private, that "Douglas could not answer that question in such way as to be elected both Senator and President. He might so answer it as to carry Illinois, but, in doing so, he would irretrievably injure his standing with the Southern Democracy." Douglas quickly realized his own embarrassment. He could not, in the face of the Supreme-Court decision, declare that the people of the Territory could exclude slavery by direct enactment. To admit, on the other hand, that slavery was fastened upon the Territories, --past all hope of resistance or protest on the part of a majority of the citizens--would be to concede the victory to Mr. Lincoln without further struggle. Between these impossible roads Douglas sought a third. He answered that, regardless of the decision of the Supreme Court, "the people of a Territory have the lawful means to introduce or exclude slavery as they choose, for the reason that slavery cannot exist unless supported by local police regulations. Those police regulations can only be established by the local legislature; and, if the people are opposed to slavery, they will, by unfriendly legislation, effectually prevent the introduction."

This was a lame, illogical, evasive answer; but it was put forth by Douglas with an air of sincerity and urged in a tone of defiant confidence. It gave to his supporters a plausible answer. But Mr. Lincoln's analysis of the position was thorough, his ridicule of it effective. Douglas's invention for destroying a right under the Constitution by a police regulation was admirably exposed, and his new theory that a thing "may be lawfully driven away from a place where it has a lawful right to go" was keenly reviewed by Mr. Lincoln. The debate of that day was the important one of the series. Mr. Lincoln had secured an advantage in the national relations of the contest which he held to the end. At the same time Douglas had escaped a danger which threatened his destruction in the State canvass, and secured his return to the Senate. As to the respective merits of the contestants, it would be idle to expect an agreement among contemporary partisans. But a careful reading of the discussion a quarter of a century after it was held will convince the impartial that in principle, in candor, in the enduring force of logic, Mr. Lincoln had the advantage. It is due to fairness to add that probably not another man in the country, with the disabilities surrounding his position, could have maintained himself so ably, so fearlessly, so effectively, as Douglas.

BUCHANAN'S OPPOSITION TO DOUGLAS.

Douglas was aided in his canvass by the undisguised opposition of the administration. The hostility of President Buchanan and his Southern supporters was the best possible proof to the people of Illinois that Douglas was representing a doctrine which was not relished by the pro-slavery party. The courage with which he fought the administration gave an air of heroism to his canvass and prestige to his position. It secured to him thousands of votes that would otherwise have gone to Mr. Lincoln. For every vote which the administration was able to withhold from Douglas, it added five to his supporters. The result of the contest was, that, while Douglas was enabled to secure a majority of eight in the Legislature in consequence of an apportionment that was favorable to his side, Mr. Lincoln received a plurality of four thousand in the popular vote. In a certain sense, therefore, each had won a victory, and each had incurred defeat. But the victory of Douglas and the means by which it was won proved to be his destruction in the wider field of his ambition. Mr. Lincoln's victory and defeat combined in the end to promote his political fortunes, and to open to him the illustrious career which followed.

This debate was not a mere incident in American politics. It marked an era. Its influence and effect were co-extensive with the Republic. It introduced a new and distinct phase in the controversy that was engrossing all minds. The position of Douglas separated him from the Southern Democracy, and this, of itself, was a fact of great significance. The South saw that the ablest leader of the Northern Democracy had been compelled, in order to save himself at home, to abjure the very doctrine on which the safety of slave institutions depended. The propositions enunciated by Douglas in answer to the questions of Mr. Lincoln, in the Freeport debate, were as distasteful to the Southern mind as the position of Mr. Lincoln himself. Lincoln advocated a positive inhibition of slavery by the General Government. Mr. Douglas proposed to submit Southern rights under the Constitution to the decision of the first mob or rabble that might get possession of a Territorial legislature, and pass a police regulation hostile to slavery. Against this construction of the Constitution the South protested, and the protest carried with it implacable hostility to Douglas.

The separation of the Democratic party into warring factions was, therefore, inevitable. The line of division was the same on which the Republican party had been founded. It was the North against the South, the South against the North. The great mass of Northern Democrats began to consolidate in support of Douglas as determinedly as the mass of Northern Whigs had followed Seward. The Southern Democrats began, at the same time, to organize their States against Douglas. Until his break from the regular ranks in his opposition to the Lecompton Constitution, Douglas had enjoyed boundless popularity with his party in the South. In every slave State, there was still a small number of his old supporters who remained true to him. But the great host had left him. He could not be trusted. He had failed to stand by the extreme faith; he had refused to respond to its last requirement. Even at the risk of permanently dissevering the Democratic party, the Southern leaders resolved to destroy Douglas.

To this end, in the session of Congress following the debate with Mr. Lincoln, the Democratic senators laid down, in a series of resolutions, the true exposition of the creed of their party. Douglas was not personally referred to, but the resolutions were aimed so pointedly at what they regarded his heretical opinions, that his name might as well have been incorporated. The resolutions were adopted during the absence of Douglas from the Senate, on a health-seeking tour, after his laborious canvass. With only the dissenting vote of Mr. Pugh of Ohio among the Democrats, it was declared that "neither Congress nor a territorial legislature, whether by direct legislation, or legislation of an indirect or unfriendly character, possesses the power to impair the right of any citizen of the United States to take his slave property into the common Territories, and there hold and enjoy the same while the territorial condition exists." Not satisfied with this utter destruction of the whole doctrine of popular sovereignty, the Democratic senators gave one more turn to the wrench, by declaring that if "the territorial government should fail or refuse to provide adequate protection to the rights of the slave-holder, it will be the duty of Congress to supply such deficiency." The doctrine thus laid down by the Democratic senators was, in plain terms, that the territorial legislature might protect slavery, but could not prohibit it; and that even the Congress of the United States could only intervene on the side of bondage, and never on the side of freedom.

DOUGLAS AND THE SOUTHERN DEMOCRACY.

Anxious as Douglas was to be re-established in full relations with his party, he had not failed to see the obstacles in his way. He now realized that a desperate fight was to be made against him; that he was to be humiliated and driven from the Democratic ranks. The creed laid down by the Southern senators was such as no man could indorse without forfeiting his political life in free States. Douglas did not propose to rush on self-destruction to oblige the Democracy of the slave States; nor was he of the type of men who, when the right cheek is smitten, will meekly turn the other for a second blow. When his Democratic associates in the Senate proceeded to read him out of the party, they apparently failed to see that they were reading the Northern Democracy out with him. Jefferson Davis and Judah P. Benjamin might construct resolutions adapted to the latitude of the Gulf, and dragoon them through the Senate, with aid and pressure from Buchanan's administration; but Douglas commanded the votes of the Northern Democracy, and to the edict of a pro-slavery caucus he defiantly opposed the solid millions who followed his lead in the free States.

Without wrangling over the resolutions in the Senate, Douglas made answer to the whole series in a public letter of June 22, 1859, in which he said that "if it shall become the policy of the Democratic party to repudiate their time-honored principles, and interpolate such new issues as the revival of the African slave-trade, or the doctrine that the Constitution carries slavery into the Territories beyond the power of the people to legally control it as other property," he would not "accept a nomination for the Presidency if tendered him." The aggressiveness of Southern opinion on the slavery question was thus shown by Douglas in a negative or indirect view. It is a remarkable fact, that, in still another letter, Douglas argued quite elaborately against the revival of the African slave-trade, which he believed to be among the designs of the most advanced class of pro-slavery advocates. So acute a statesman as Douglas could not fail to see, that, at every step of his controversy with Southern Democrats, he was justifying the philosophy of Lincoln when he maintained that the country was to become wholly free, or wholly under the control of the slave power.

The controversy thus precipitated between Douglas and the South threatened the disruption of the Democratic party. That was an event of very serious significance. It would bring the conflict of sections still nearer by sundering a tie which had for so long a period bound together vast numbers from the North and the South in common sympathy and fraternal co-operation. Even those who were most opposed to the Democratic party beheld its peril with a certain feeling of regret not unmixed with apprehension. The Whig party had been destroyed; and its Northern and Southern members, who, but a few years before, had worked harmoniously for Harrison, for Clay, for Taylor, were now enrolled in rival and hostile organizations. A similar dissolution of the Democratic party would sweep away the only common basis of political action still existing for men of the free States and men of the slave States. The separation of the Methodist church into Northern and Southern organizations, a few years before, had been regarded by Mr. Webster as a portent of evil for the Union. The division of the Democratic party would be still more ominous. The possibility of such an event showed how deeply the slavery question had affected all ranks,--social, religious, and political. It showed, too, how the spirit of Calhoun now inspired the party in whose councils the slightest word of Jackson had once been law. This change, beginning with the defeat of Van Buren in 1844, was at first slow; but it had afterwards moved so rapidly and so far, that men in the North, who wished to remain in the ranks of the Democracy, were compelled to trample on the principles, and surrender the prejudices, of a lifetime. Efforts to harmonize proved futile. In Congress the breach was continually widening.

FACTIONS OF THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY.

The situation was cause of solicitude, and even grief, with thousands to whom the old party was peculiarly endeared. The traditions of Jefferson, of Madison, of Jackson, were devoutly treasured; and the splendid achievements of the American Democracy were recounted with the pride which attaches to an honorable family inheritance. The fact was recalled that the Republic had grown to its imperial dimensions under Democratic statesmanship. It was remembered that Louisiana had been acquired from France, Florida from Spain, the independent Republic of Texas annexed, and California, with its vast dependencies, and its myriad millions of treasure, ceded by Mexico, all under Democratic administrations, and in spite of the resistance of their opponents. That a party whose history was inwoven with the glory of the Republic should now come to its end in a quarrel over the status of the negro, in a region where his labor was not wanted, was, to many of its members, as incomprehensible as it was sorrowful and exasperating. They protested, but they could not prevent. Anger was aroused, and men refused to listen to reason. They were borne along, they knew not whither or by what force. Time might have restored the party to harmony, but at the very height of the factional contest the representatives of both sections were hurried forward to the National Convention of 1860, with principle subordinated to passion, with judgment displaced by a desire for revenge.

[NOTE.--The following are the questions, referred to on p. 147, which were propounded to Mr. Douglas by Mr. Lincoln in their debate at Freeport. The popular interest was centred in the second question.

First, If the people of Kansas shall, by means entirely unobjectionable in all other respects, adopt a State Constitution, and ask admission into the Union under it before they have the requisite number of inhabitants, according to the English bill-- some ninety-three thousand--will you vote to admit them?

Second, Can the people of a United-States Territory, in any lawful way, against the wish of any citizen of the United States, exclude slavery from its limits prior to the formation of a State Constitution?

Third, If the Supreme Court of the United States shall decide that States cannot exclude slavery from their limits, are you in favor or acquiescing in, adopting, and following such decision as a rule of political action?

Fourth, Are you in favor of acquiring additional territory, in disregard of how such acquisition may affect the nation on the slavery question?]

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