GIFT OF 
 MICHAEL REESE 
 
 1 
 
Five American Politicians 
 
 A Study in the Evolution of 
 American Politics 
 
 I. Aaron Burr, Father of the Political Machine 
 II. DeWitt Clinton, Father of the Spoils System 
 III. Martin Van Buren, Nationalizer of the Machine 
 
 IV. Henry Clay, Master and Victim of Compromise 
 and Coalition 
 
 V, Stephen A. Douglas, Defender of State s Rights 
 and of Nationalism 
 
 By 
 
 Samuel P. Orth 
 
 *. 
 
 Cleveland 
 
 The Burrows Brothers Company 
 1906 
 

 * r U ei*nm*ent$;lito! cloic fcs*,go from the motion met 
 give them ; and as Governments are made am 
 moved by men, so by them they are ruined too 
 Wherefore Governments rather depend upon met 
 than men upon Governments. Let men be good, am 
 the Government cannot be bad. If it be ill, they wtl 
 cure it. But if men be bad, they will endeavo, 
 to warp and spoil it to their turn" 
 
 WM. PENN 
 Preface to his Constitution 
 of Pennsylvania. 
 
 Copyright, 1906. 
 
TO 
 
 FRANCIS H. HASEROT 
 
 Successful Merchant 
 Useful Citizen 
 Loyal Friend 
 This volume is respectfully inscribed 
 
FOREWORD. 
 
 These biographical sketches were prepared 
 by the author, not as a formal treatise upon 
 political science, nor a new fragment of po 
 litical theory wrested from the realms of 
 research, nor yet as a novel contribution to 
 political history; but to tell simply and in 
 formally the life-stories of five of our great 
 American politicians. 
 
 For into the life-story of a leader is woven 
 the history of his day. And thus in the de 
 veloping personalities of our political leaders, 
 in their intense ambitions, in their statecraft, 
 their designing, their talents, and their fol 
 lies, can be discovered the political develop 
 ment of our people. 
 
 In the hope that they may contribute to a 
 clearer understanding of the growth of Amer 
 ican politics, these biographical fragments 
 are sent forth. 
 
 While the author has searched the best 
 libraries of the country for his material, he 
 begs to acknowledge his especial dependence 
 upon the following works : Parton s " Aaron 
 Burr," Shepherd s "Martin Van Buren," 
 Schurz s "Henry Clay," Nicolay & Hay s 
 "Abraham Lincoln, " and Burgess s The 
 Middle Period." S. P. O. 
 
 Cleveland, October 2, 1905. 
 
AARON BURR 
 
 FATHER OF THE POLITICAL MACHINE 
 

 AARON BURR 
 
 FATHER OF THE POLITICAL MACHINE 
 
 AFTER the Revolution, chaos. Nothing 
 could exceed the confusion and petty 
 antagonisms of the thirteen states 
 at the close of the Revolutionary War. 
 The bond that had united their sympathies 
 and joined their powers was loosened by the 
 tidings of peace, and the victorious regi 
 ments marched home to discover that the 
 feeling of Nationalism had been largely con 
 fined to the army, and that narrow, prov 
 incial sentiments prevailed in the local dis 
 tricts. 
 
 After the war of destruction must follow 
 the era of construction. That remarkable 
 group of men who had guided the affairs of 
 the country in war now set themselves nobly 
 to the great task of building a nation from 
 the fragments that had survived the struggle. 
 
 It is necessary at the outset of this study 
 of American politics to remombei.: ta t fc the 
 problem of our fathers wa not only to pro 
 vide the machinery of govern^Tient^a *na^ 
 tional union with all of its subordinate aha 
 coordinate parts, but they must also organ 
 ize and direct the motor force which would 
 set this mechanism in motion, and ever ac- 
 
12 Five American Politicians 
 
 celerate or retard its impetus according to 
 the needs of society. 
 
 Now for the creation of the mechanism, 
 the model was at hand. It was an Anglo- 
 Saxon model, evolved by fierce struggles 
 between kings and barons, peoples and lords, 
 armies and peasants, until the government 
 of England stood forth, an example of con 
 stitutional centralization and local auton 
 omy. It was the perversion, and not the 
 demolishing of this ideal by a non-English 
 monarch, that had led to the War of Inde 
 pendence. The experiences of the colonies 
 and the vague and ultra-altruistic philoso 
 phy of the French school then in vogue, 
 somewhat modified the pattern of English 
 government written into our constitution. 
 But on the whole, that is a purely Anglo- 
 Saxon document. 
 
 The only portions of that constitution 
 which have not worked well are those that 
 were invented by the framers. The method, 
 e. g., of electing a president, had to be 
 changed, and indeed is even now in need 
 of complete revision. So I say, the pattern 
 for the mechanism, the skeleton and muscle 
 part of the body politic was at hand, and 
 wel) known to 1 the lawyers and statesmen 
 who were members of the notable conven 
 tion that wrcte the constitution. 
 
 The vivifying power that must give life 
 to the body, give motion to the machine, 
 was provided by nature, by human nature. 
 
Aaron Burr 13 
 
 For all government is merely man s device 
 for tempering and harmonizing the instincts 
 and ideals of society. Government is the 
 guiding of human nature into the paths of 
 progress and plenty. So that, given a form 
 of government, the inherent tendencies of 
 human nature will give it a certain definite 
 motion. In a democracy, this movement 
 will be freer and easier than in a monarchy, 
 and also more frequent in its changes. 
 
 Politically all human nature is divided 
 into two camps, progressive and stationary. 
 By nature, all men are either radical or con 
 servative. Politics is a matter of tempera 
 ment, of liver and spleen, of secretion and 
 assimilation. So you will always find two 
 great parties in every country, and in every 
 democracy or republic these two great par 
 ties will be the motor power of the wheels 
 of government. 
 
 The problem of American politics in the 
 nursery days of the Republic, was to harness 
 and bridle those two over-mastering ten 
 dencies of human nature. Presidents, sena 
 tors, courts, ballots, juries, cabinets, states, 
 counties, cities, all were merely like so many 
 wheels, pulleys, belts, and shafts in the great 
 machine of Government. The mystic force 
 that bade these parts move in unison and 
 sway in sympathy with the popular will was 
 the expressed sentiment of the majority. 
 To control and organize that majority is the 
 master-task of statesmen and politicians, 
 
14 Five American Politicians 
 
 of statesmen, for the sake of the nation, of 
 politicians, for the sake of ulterior private 
 motives. 
 
 While thus the pattern of our government 
 was at hand, ready shaped, the application 
 of political sentiment and conviction to 
 the details of government was a novel 
 problem to Americans and absolutely vital 
 to our national existence. The development 
 of American politics, with all of its complex 
 details, has been an evolution from the 
 simpler days of the post-revolutionary per 
 iod. Every characteristic of present day 
 politics can be traced to a single beginning 
 as the biologist can trace the origin of all 
 life to a single-celled monad. 
 
 These devices that characterize our prac 
 tical politics were designed by men of inge 
 nuity to utilize the natural prejudices and 
 passions of men. To these manipulators, 
 these designers, these leaders, we trace the 
 parentage of every political device, and in 
 the circumstances that surrounded their lives 
 we find the causes that commanded the crea 
 tion of the device. In the biographies of 
 great politicians and statesmen, then, in the 
 influences that shaped their plans, must we 
 seek the story of the development of Ameri 
 can politics. 
 
 Personality and principle are the dual 
 nuclei about which have crystalized our 
 great parties. The principles are embodied 
 in the personalities of the leaders. Their 
 
Aaron Burr 15 
 
 life-story is the story of party politics in 
 America. 
 
 New York has been the most fertile garden 
 spot of American politics. There first flour 
 ished the machine, the lobby, the spoils 
 system, and there was nurtured the party 
 boss, whose patriotism expanded or con 
 tracted with his purse. 
 
 In this series of studies of early American 
 party politics we will have to search for 
 origins mainly among the winding laby 
 rinths of factions as they existed in New 
 York after the Revolution. At this time, 
 all men were either Federalists or Anti- 
 Federalists. The new constitution was con 
 sidered by all of its makers as a temporary 
 makeshift, at most as an experiment. None 
 of them knew how well they had builded. 
 The Federalists espoused its cause with the 
 conciliatory feeling that it ought to have a 
 fair trial. The Anti-Federalists, on the 
 other hand, viewed with alarm the central 
 ized national government. It was this 
 alarm that inspired the savage attacks of 
 George Clinton and Jefferson; and it was 
 this spirit of conciliation and fair-mindedness 
 that inspired the defense of the new consti 
 tution. In George Washington this concili 
 atory spirit found an embodiment, and in 
 Alexander Hamilton a champion. There is 
 a prevalent feeling that Washington had no 
 enemies. This is wholly false. No good 
 and great man ever lived who had not ene- 
 
1 6 Five American Politicians 
 
 mies. Nothing in the political controver 
 sies of to-day equals the ardor and rancor 
 of the partisans of that primordial time of 
 American politics. Out of the travail of 
 partisanship, of provincialism, of personal 
 hatred; of debates, estrangements and duels; 
 of bickering, intriguing and betraying, was 
 born the party machinery of to-day. 
 
 It was still the day of the gentleman. 
 The new nation was a Cis-Atlantic England 
 in costume and custom, economic organiza 
 tions and political thought. An England 
 tinged with the superficialities of the cur 
 rent French philosophy of Montaigne and 
 Rousseau and Voltaire, as well as tainted 
 with the moralities of Chesterfield and God 
 win. Powdered wigs, parti-colored waist 
 coats, silk hose, and silver shoe buckles were 
 still insignia of rank. The veneer of courtly 
 manners was still indicative of high birth. 
 And the clog, the pantaloon, the close- 
 cropped hair, was the badge of labor and mean 
 birth. Only freeholders were allowed to 
 vote in New York. Universal suffrage was 
 contemplated with a fear that clung through 
 fifty years of agitation. 
 
 The Treaty of Paris was signed in 1782. 
 The constitution was written in 1787, and it 
 required two long years of hard labor and 
 illuminating discussion to persuade nine 
 states to adopt it. Washington inaugurated 
 the new government in 1789. This decade 
 between the cessations of war and the be- 
 
Aaron Burr 17 
 
 ginning of our national government was 
 altogether the most distressing and disheart 
 ening period of our history. The struggle 
 was not simply between Federalist and Anti- 
 Federalist. These were but names that 
 shielded multiform foes. 
 
 There was first the anti-British feeling of* 
 the violent Whigs, who had disfranchised the 
 British sympathizers. These disfranchised 
 citizens were nearly all men of wealth, and 
 therefore latterly drew toward them the 
 well wishes and sympathies of the merchant 
 and land-owning Americans, who were quite 
 all Federalists. 
 
 There was secondly the provincial or< 
 state feeling. This was positively ridicu 
 lous. So petty and unneighborly was this 
 colonial sentiment that Governor Clinton of 
 New York contemplated an impost duty to 
 be levied on articles brought over the Hud 
 son from Jersey and over the state line from 
 Connecticut. Naturally this threatened re 
 taliation, the forerunner of civil war. 
 
 Thirdly, there was a great family feeling. > 
 How novel this sounds to our ears. Three 
 families ruled New York; three royal fami 
 lies, who guarded their patronage and power 
 with a jealousy that rivaled the manorial 
 feelings of the feudal dynasties of the middle 
 ages. The Livingstones had wealth. The 
 Clintons had offices and votes. The Schuy- 
 lers had wealth, prestige, and Hamilton, who 
 had married the fair daughter of General 
 
1 8 Five American Politicians 
 
 Schuyler. Neither one of these families 
 could rule New York alone. Any two of 
 them united could control the electorate. 
 
 Finally there was a feeling of democracy 
 against aristocracy. Business and office 
 were in the hands of the gentility, who 
 treated all others with disdain and often 
 contempt. It was a feeling that was born 
 of blood, and was greatly augmented by the 
 circumstances that placed the Federalists 
 into power. In 1787 the Federalists had 
 bargained with the disfranchised loyalists 
 that they would return to them civil abili 
 ties in return for their support in the adop 
 tion of the constitution. The deal suc 
 ceeded, and in 1788 the Democratic party, 
 Anti-Federalists, were thrown out of power 
 by a vote of 7 to 1. The Commons who had 
 tasted the sweets of victory, now chafed at 
 the bitter dregs of defeat. 
 
 These antipodal sentiments were given 
 substantial form in two organizations. The 
 Sons of Liberty were bands of patriots who 
 had pledged themselves to the country s 
 glory, over many a sparkling glass. They 
 gathered within their clubs all the anti-Eng 
 lish sentiment. They were the Whigs. They 
 attempted to do away with all things that 
 flavored of the English, even wishing to 
 discard the names of the months, as the 
 French Revolutionists did a few decades later. 
 
 The Society of the Cincinnati was essen 
 tially a federal organization. It comprised 
 
Aaron Burr 19 
 
 the officers of Washington s army. And 
 many wild rumors were set afloat by the 
 Sons of Liberty as to the sinister notions of 
 the members of this order. They were sup 
 posed to have designs on the government, 
 and were to establish hereditary ranks. But 
 these two organizations did not attain any 
 primary political significance. <{* ***_ 
 
 The constitution was adopted through the 
 genius and brilliancy of Hamilton. His 
 name was on every tongue, his picture was 
 in every federal household. A magnificent 
 float bearing his name was borne through 
 the streets of New York in celebration of 
 the great event of the adoption of the con 
 stitution. His party was victorious at the 
 polls, national and state, and he sat at the 
 council board of the first president, honored 
 and obeyed. 
 
 This great victory demolished the organi 
 zation of the Sons of Liberty. But the 
 spirit of discontent lurked in the hearts of 
 its disorganized members. Federalism to 
 them was aristocracy, and aristocracy 
 reigned. The time was at hand for organiz 
 ing this discontent into a weapon for wrest 
 ing the state from the hated champions of 
 centralization and privileged interests. It 
 was the psychological moment. There was 
 needed only a leader, a leader whose genius 
 would rival Hamilton s, whose personality 
 would inspire confidence, and whose courage 
 would dispel fear. Such a one was at hand. 
 
2O Five American Politicians 
 
 Nature and events had conspired to make 
 Aaron Burr the rival of Hamilton. He was; 
 born of a parentage that has potently influ 
 enced the course of scholarship in America. 
 .His father, the Rev. Aaron Burr, was the 
 \ distinguished president of Princeton college, 
 and the scion of a Puritan family that had 
 for three generations given to the colonies 
 eminent clergymen, lawyers, and merchants. 
 His mother, Esther Edwards, was the gifted 
 daughter of the most noted scholar of that 
 period, Jonathan Edwards. The brilliant 
 mental talents of these distinguished men 
 were transmitted to Aaron. Unfortunately, 
 their moral sensitiveness and lofty idealism 
 found no lodgment in his soul. 
 
 At the age of eleven the precocious boy 
 was ready to enter Princeton. The faculty 
 refused him admission. He was too young. 
 Two years later he entered the sophomore 
 class, and graduated at the age of sixteen. 
 Naturally his family desired him to enter 
 the ministry. His parents had died before 
 he entered college, and the uncle with whom 
 he found a home was unable to manage 
 the self-willed and brilliant youth. But he 
 consented to investigate the theological 
 field before he definitely refused to devote 
 himself to the pursuit of his fathers, and for 
 that purpose entered a private school of 
 theology conducted by Dr. Bellamy. He 
 soon entangled that worthy divine in the 
 meshes of the arguments of French skepti- 
 
Aaron Burr 21 
 
 cism, then so popular among university 
 students, and left the school disappointed 
 with the theology of his famous grand 
 parent and disgusted with the orthodox 
 formulae of his tutor. 
 
 He chose the law. But before he could 
 open his books the guns of Lexington had 
 called the nation to arms, and Aaron Burr, 
 nineteen years old, enlisted in the continen 
 tal army. Never was there a better soldier. 
 Had Burr been born in Europe, history 
 might record two Napoleons. Sparse in 
 physique, instinct with motion, Spartan in 
 diet and drink, satisfied with few hours 
 sleep, and able to sleep under any circum 
 stances, he could endure almost every physi 
 cal hardship. Alert of mind, he soon mas 
 tered all the books on military science; in 
 domitable of will, his discipline was the 
 most severe in all the army; kind in dispo 
 sition, he was revered by his soldiers. And 
 Aaron Burr never knew fear. His nerves 
 could not twitch. He was confronted by 
 more sudden dangers, and by a greater 
 variety of imminent catastrophies than any 
 other man known to American history, but 
 never did he lose his absolute self-possession. 
 He quelled with his eye and the calmness 
 of his voice. Thus he faced mutinied regi 
 ments, ambushed enemies, outraged antag 
 onists, duelling combatants, defrauded credi 
 tors, a slandering public, and an enraged 
 nation. In- after years, his record as a Rev- 
 
22 Five American Politicians 
 
 olutionary soldier broke through the clouds 
 that covered his skies like a gleam of wel 
 come sunlight and won for him even the 
 approbation of a congress, whose relentless 
 animosity was akin to bigotry. 
 
 He served until, in 1780, he was compelled 
 by broken health, brought on by his over-zeal 
 ous vigilance in guarding the Westchester 
 lines, to ask for a parole. Washington reluc- 
 
 /tantly granted leave to his best disciplinarian. 
 Between the commander-in-chief and the 
 young colonel (he had attained the rank 
 when only 21) there was never any mutual 
 love. Neither Burr nor Hamilton thought 
 highly of Washington s ability as a soldier. 
 Burr could not conceal his opinions, but 
 Hamilton s diplomacy cloaked his views, 
 and thus evaded the commander s displeas 
 ure, which was several times shown against 
 Burr. He never was promoted to a general 
 ship, and always felt grudgingly against 
 Washington for the partiality displayed 
 toward Hamilton. 
 
 For eighteen months Burr was an invalid. 
 As soon as he had gained sufficient strength 
 he attacked the law. He did not read law, 
 he did not study law, he plunged into the li 
 brary of Judge Patterson at Haverstraw, 
 and in six months mastered the law. The 
 rules prescribed for average mortals are not 
 supposed to apply to genius, and he started 
 /for Albany to seek admission to the bar, 
 
 /despite the law that applicants must have 
 
Aaron Burr 23 
 
 spent three years at study. He found no 
 lawyer to espouse his cause, so he pleaded for 
 himself before the Supreme Court, arguing 
 that had he not devoted himself to his coun 
 try in her need, he would long since have 
 been admitted. The judges decided to dis 
 pense with the rule, if the applicant could 
 pass the examination. The test was made 
 as difficult and intricate as the court could de 
 vise, but Burr passed with great honor, and 
 at the age of twenty-six was licensed attor 
 ney and admitted as counsellor. He began 
 to practice in Albany, and from the first his 
 success was phenomenal. The old Tory 
 lawyers had all been disbarred by act of the 
 legislature, and brilliant Whig lawyers were ^ 
 much sought. 
 
 Within three months from the time of his 
 admission he was married to Theodosia Pre- 
 vost, the widow of an English general, whom 
 Burr had met some years before, and wooed 
 with winning constancy. She was a woman 
 noted more for her good sense than her 
 beauty, and was charming in intellect rather 
 than bewitching in manner. The home thus 
 founded was one of singular beauty and 
 happiness. The two sons of Mrs. Prevost 
 were at once taken under the guiding care 
 of Burr, who was endowed with all the 
 natural talents of a great teacher. And 
 to his Theodosia, the only child of this fortu 
 nate union, he was devoted with a paternal 
 attachment, so sweet and so ennobling that 
 
24 Five American Politicians 
 
 the annals of poesy and tradition must be 
 searched to find a parallel. In her, he 
 wished to perfect his ideal woman. He di 
 rected every detail of her education, and the 
 voluminous correspondence that passed be 
 tween them reveals how nearly he had suc 
 ceeded in realizing his purpose. 
 
 Soon after his marriage he removed to 
 New York, where for eight years until 
 1791 he devoted himself assiduously to his 
 profession. He paid little attention to poli 
 tics. He had been elected twice to the state 
 legislature, but attended the sessions only 
 when important measures were discussed, 
 and had been appointed attorney general 
 in 1789, but his duties were all in line with 
 his profession. He shared with the more 
 eloquent and profound Hamilton the leader 
 ship of the New York bar. [ He was a shrewd 
 trial lawyer. He knew the arts of marshal 
 ling men and facts. He was adroit, awake, 
 sharp, without sentiment, a martinet. Al 
 ways tripping, but never tripped. Never 
 gave quarter and never asked. He was not 
 given to words. His address was plain and 
 direct, but always convincing. I cannot 
 find that he ever made a speech over sixty 
 minutes in length. He would follow one of 
 Hamilton s eloquent and masterly argu 
 ments with a few remarks, but those so 
 sharpened and so well directed, that the great 
 plea, which swayed judge and jury, would 
 fall disjointed, a mangled mass at his feet. 
 
"t 
 
 Aaron Burr 25 
 
 And in later years, when he stood before the 
 bar accused of treason against his country, 
 he met the gravest crisis of that trial with 
 a speech that occupied ten minutes of time 
 in the delivery. ~ - 
 
 But we are to turn to the political career 
 of this remarkable man. _ _ IIM __ jjm , ,, 
 
 Before detailing his life as a politician, let 
 us draw a picture of the man Burr as he was 
 known to his contemporaries. Burr was 
 small of stature, being scarcely five Feet six 
 inchesTm height, and slight of frame. His 
 bearing was erect, the poise of his head was 
 classic. His mouth was very large, nose ! 
 prominent, ears diminutive, closely cling- 
 ing to his head, and his forehead, broad at 
 the base, contracted rapidly to a point. 
 This gave his head a most peculiar contour. 
 His eyes were living coals. No human be 
 ing into whose face they had peered could 
 ever forget their all-searching power. In 
 demeanor quiet, in speech calm, in habits 
 abstemious and regular, never idle a minute, 
 this child of genius was at once beau an 
 student, wit and philosopher, benevolent 
 and heartless. He was totally indifferent 
 to public opinion. Crafty was he beyond 
 all thought, and reckless unto death. He 
 was guided by impulse rather than logic, 
 
 was fascinating rather than overpowering, 
 
 and rapid rather than sure. And above all 
 was he fond of intrigue. Mystery seemed 
 the motif of his politics, and he never put 
 
26 Five American Politicians 
 
 in writing the slightest fragment of a plot, 
 without leaving ample loopholes through 
 which he might escape if discovered. 
 
 An overmastering ambition seized this 
 man and drew him headlong into politics. 
 ~".s rise seems miraculous. In four years 
 \ he lifted himself from private life through 
 the legislature to the United States senate, 
 and into active rivalry with Adams, Jeffer 
 son, and Clinton for the succession to Wash 
 ington. And this when but thirty-six years 
 age, without affiliating himself with any 
 of the reigning families, nor committing 
 himself fully and irrevocably to either of 
 the two great parties, and without originat 
 ing or espousing any great cause or measure 
 that would lend character to his campaign 
 for power and glory \XThis marvelous prog 
 ress was not due al(5ne to the prestige of his 
 New England ancestry, as John Adams 
 said; nor to mere wire-pulling, as Hamil 
 ton wrote; nor to his military reputation, 
 as Jefferson surmised; nor to luck, as the 
 populace cried. It was primarily due to the 
 fact that Aaron Burr was the first American 
 politician who saw the value of compact 
 political organization. 
 
 We must now go back to the Sons of Lib 
 erty, whom we left utterly demoralized by 
 the victory of Hamilton in 1788. Among 
 the troops of Pennsylvania an organization 
 had sprung up dedicated to a Sagamore In 
 dian Job, a sort of canonized chief called St. 
 
Aaron Burr 27 
 
 Tammand. The 12th of May was celebrated 
 as his birthday. A great wigwam was 
 erected, a liberty pole raised aloft, and 
 around it danced, in Indian fashion, with 
 tomahawks, feathers and strings of wampum 
 the palefaced braves, wrought up to a high 
 degree of patriotism by generous supplies 
 of firewater. Other St. Tammand societies 
 were organized in other divisions of the 
 army, but their orgies were so frequent and 
 so long enduring that orders were issued for 
 bidding their continuance. But civil Tam 
 many societies were formed in the cities, 
 and in New York St. Tammany survived 
 the^ days of the army. 
 
 ..^William Mooney, an American of Irish de 
 scent, had been a leader of "The Sons of 
 Liberty." He was an upholsterer, having 
 establishments successively on Nassau 
 street, Maiden Lane, and Chatham street. 
 He was ignorant, pompous, and fond of dis 
 play. The former Sons of Liberty gradu 
 ally came over to Tammany, and Mooney 
 became the first Grand Sachem of the reor 
 ganized Society. He had hoped to make Co 
 lumbus the patron saint, but the Indian cele 
 brations were the most popular part of the 
 ceremonies, and so he compromised on the 
 names, and called it "Tammany Society, or 
 Columbian Order." The orgaaizatio^a^ w>as 
 entirely anti-English. The officers were: a 
 Great Father, thirteen Sachems, a Sagamore 
 
 or Master of Ceremonies, a Winkiskee or 
 
 t 
 
28 Five American Politicians 
 
 Doorkeeper, and a Scribe. At first the so 
 ciety met at Barden s City Hotel on Broad 
 way, next in a public house on Broad street, 
 and finally it found more permanent quar 
 ters in "Martling s Long Room/ a one- 
 story adjunct to Martling s Tavern. The 
 propensities of these early braves may be 
 imagined from the name popularly given 
 to their meeting place, "pig-pen." Here, 
 after business was done, tradition says, rev 
 elry began. The master of ceremonies was 
 usually a jovial and convivial soul, and there 
 was never wanting of song, story and al 
 Halleck s familiar quatrain was drawn fr 
 observation. 
 
 "There s a barrel of porter in Tammany hall, 
 And the Bucktails are swigging it all the 
 
 night long, 
 In the time of my childhood twas pleasant 
 
 to call 
 
 For a seat and cigar mid the jovial 
 throng." 
 
 At this time the Society was ostensibly 
 non-political, though the bulk of the mem 
 bership was Anti-Federal. Occasionally the 
 12th of May was made a public holiday, and 
 was celebrated like the Fourth of July. 
 Later, however, a new constitution was 
 adopted, and this gradually transformed 
 the character of Tammany. The ostensible 
 object was still the promulgation of conviv 
 iality, the strengthening of the bonds of 
 
Aaron Burr 29 
 
 brotherhood, and the distribution of charity. 
 In those days there were few social clubs, and 
 Martling s long room became a place of 
 frequent resort. 
 
 But Tammany was a secret order, and ev 
 ery member was pledged to maintain the im 
 portance of the state, as distinguished from 
 the federal, government. Herein lurked the 
 political serpent that soon was to rise and 
 strike the death-blow to the Federal party. 
 Who contrived this constitution, so artfully 
 blending charity, fellowship and politics? 
 Not Mooney, for he could not. Feathers 
 and paint were his limit. He could arrange 
 showy ceremonies and glow in exultation 
 over a gaudy display of Indian trappings. 
 But he was not astute. He was a tool. 
 
 The prevailing opinion of that time, and 
 the evidence of the political events that soon 
 transpired, point to Burr as the real founder 
 of political Tammany. He himself never 
 was a member. This was truly Burrian. 
 He always hid himself under his design, 
 and averted public gaze from his own pur 
 poses. But all of his intimate friends and 
 lieutenants were members. They con 
 trolled all the tribes, held all the offices, and 
 carried out his secret orders. The ceremony- 
 loving Mooney was his political valet. Burr 
 patronized him in business, in return for 
 his subservience, but his payments were in 
 the form of credits which the upholsterer s 
 executor found impossible to convert into 
 
30 Five American Politicians 
 
 cash. Burr was by instinct an aristocrat. 
 He was never vulgar, and shrank from the 
 coarse. He could find no pleasure in the 
 rough house at Mart/ling s. But he needed 
 the men. He was a Democrat by design. 
 The mob was to be his pedestal. The Feder 
 alists were paying little attention to the 
 poorer freeholders. New York was growing 
 rapidly, and the number of cottage owners 
 was increasing with every influx of immigra 
 tion. When Hamilton made his shrewd 
 bargain with the loyalists, there were scarce 
 14,000 freeholders in all the state. This 
 number was doubled by the time Burr was 
 ready to challenge Hamilton to the political 
 fray. And naturally the number of small 
 freeholders increased more rapidly than the 
 rich. 
 
 Moreover, Hamilton had an organization 
 in The Cincinnati. True, it was not a polit 
 ical organization, but its membership was 
 overwhelmingly Federal. Burr was a mem 
 ber of The Cincinnati, but not a courted mem 
 ber, as was Hamilton. The brilliant favor 
 ite of Washington was its life, its spirit, and 
 its leader. Tradition relates that at its 
 meetings Burr would sit alone and mor 
 ose, while his rival was surrounded by ad 
 miring, worshiping friends. This is prob 
 ably, like so many traditions about Burr, 
 a cruel exaggeration. But Burr was not 
 popular among any circles in which Hamil 
 ton moved. The champion of centraliza- 
 
X 
 
 Aaron Burr 31 
 
 tion took jealous care that Burr should 
 not shine in his planetary system. 
 
 So Burr, deep plotting, laying plans for a 
 decade, organized a counter-contrivance; 
 not that he might be the center of an ador 
 ing circle, but that he might have a fulcrum 
 upon which to rest the lever that was to lift 
 Hamilton and the Federalist party out of 
 power forever. Silently and adroitly he 
 gathered together the remnants of the Sons 
 of Liberty, the discontented, the anti-aristo 
 cratic, and organized them into a secret 
 band, powerful and perfectly centralized. 
 He cautiously hid the true import of his or 
 ganization from the public gaze, and under 
 the cloak of charity and fellowship he per 
 fected a political machine, welded together 
 by solemn and secret Anti-Federal obliga 
 tions. He coined that childish delight 
 which men manifest in display and pomp 
 into political capital; and transmuted paint 
 and feathers into majorities. 
 
 To the public, all this while, Burr was not 
 a violent Anti-Federalist. Moderation was 
 the cloak of his intemperance. He worked 
 in unison with Hamilton in 1789 to defeat 
 George Clinton. He labored for many Fed 
 eral measures when a member of the legis 
 lature, and even when Vice-President he cast 
 the deciding ballot for the Federalists on sev 
 eral important occasions. Party lines were 
 not as permanently drawn then as they are 
 now, and many public men turned from one 
 
3 2 Five American Politicians \ 
 
 party to the other. Burr perhaps often did 
 by design, what others did from principle. 
 And remember that Burr never hastened an 
 event by precipitate action. He perfected 
 his Tammany slowly. Mooney was elected 
 first Grand Sachem in 1789. Burr was not 
 ready to use the full power of Tammany un 
 til 1800. 
 
 Meanwhile, he had risen to a place of 
 national eminence. In 1791 he was elected 
 United States senator. And this over the 
 head of General Philip Schuyler, whose seat 
 he was contesting. The General was the 
 leader of the powerful Schuyler interests ; he 
 was the father-in-law of Hamilton, then in the 
 zenith of his glory as Secretary of the Treas 
 ury in Washington s cabinet and considered 
 the strongest man in political circles ; he w r as 
 a hero of the Revolution, to which he had 
 contributed wealth and for which he will 
 ingly risked his life ; he was known through 
 out the nation. Moreover, the Federalists 
 had a majority in both branches of the legisla 
 ture, and General Schuyler was the embodi 
 ment of dignified Federalism. On the other 
 hand, the youthful Burr had never tampered 
 with national politics, was scarcely known be 
 yond his own state, had not held higher state 
 office than attorney-general, had not wealth, 
 had no vast following, had no claims at all 
 on the Federalists, no special claim on the 
 Republicans. His election has always been 
 considered one of the mysteries of his 
 
Aaron Burr 33 
 
 strange and adventurous career. The pa 
 pers of those days are silent as to the causes 
 that conspired in his favor. And the letters 
 of the principals cast little light upon the 
 subject. The vote shows that Burr suc 
 ceeded in uniting the Clintons and Living 
 stones against the Schuylers. The Clintons 
 were Anti-Federalists and the Schuylers 
 jealousy of Hamilton dispelled their Federal 
 predilections. Burr s sole reliance in this 
 unequal contest was upon his personal 
 prowess. The same compelling charm of 
 manner and persuasive voice that a dozen 
 years later bade a rough frontier sheriff, 
 who had entered a house to arrest Burr, to 
 cast aside his weapons and become a willing 
 slave to this fascinating man, now enchanted 
 the legislators and they willingly gave their 
 votes to a young man whose brilliancy would 
 add lustre to the state and whose talents 
 would win fame on any field of action. 
 
 Burr s election was a supreme disappoint 
 ment to Hamilton. From this day forth he 
 sought by all possible means, public and 
 private, to compass the downfall of his suc 
 cessful rival. If he had taken a most solemn 
 oath to destroy Burr he could not more re 
 lentlessly and cruelly have pursued him; 
 if fate had marked Burr as the victim of her 
 wrath she could not more unmercifully 
 more bitterly have multiplied his woe. 
 
 The six years of Burr s term in the senate 
 appear to have passed tranquilly enough. His 
 
34 Five American Politicians 
 
 fertile and active mind fitted naturally into 
 any tasks. He made a brilliant senator, if 
 not a great one. He labored daily without 
 ceasing, from five in the morning until mid 
 night. As a committee worker he had no 
 peer. But he did not originate one great 
 measure. He-^as not a constructive states 
 man. His name did not at once conjure up 
 in the popular mind a noble cause, it was 
 not a synonym for a great purpose. HJ_WJIS 
 first a politician, next a lawyer finally a 
 legislator. He never openeclaeBate, "Tmt 
 could most effectively close the discussion, 
 his compact arguments summarizing in mas 
 terly manner the merits or faults of the 
 cause. 
 
 j But underneath this quiet surface were 
 >/at work two great forces. One was the 
 (C ambition of Burr and the other the purpose 
 of Hamilton. The ambition of one was the 
 presidential chair, the purpose of the other 
 was the utter annihilation of that ambition : 
 the ambition of one was wholly selfish, 
 the purpose of the other was not untinged 
 [by jealousy. Several events will indicate 
 the quiet but powerful flow of these counter 
 acting forces. 
 
 In those days the governorship of New 
 York was one of the great political prizes. 
 Its extensive patronage and opulent salary 
 combined to make it a place of dignity and 
 power, sought by the most distinguished 
 men of the day. George Clinton had held 
 
Aaron Burr 35 
 
 the position for many terms and was a 
 thorn in the side of the Federalists. In 
 1792 a plan was set on foot to nominate 
 Burr, hoping thereby to unite the Feder 
 alists and the anti-Clinton following among 
 the Republicans. Burr would undoubtedly 
 have carried the state, but Hamilton prompt 
 ly refused to sanction his nomination and 
 named John Jay for the honor. Clinton 
 was reflected and offered Burr a place upon 
 the Supreme Bench of the state, which was 
 promptly declined. His eye was fixed upon 
 a more glittering prize. 
 
 In 1792 there was some talk of making 
 Burr Vice-President, and he received one 
 vote. Burr himself never took this seri 
 ously. His time had not yet arrived. But 
 Hamilton grew alarmed at the prospects 
 and wrote to Rufus King that he felt it 
 "to be a religious duty to oppose his [Burr s] 
 career." Never did man live up to his re 
 ligious duty with greater ardor. But in the 
 ne^t presidential election Burr received 
 thirty electoral votes, enough to show that 
 his reputation was no longer limited by 
 the boundaries of his state and that his 
 abilities were ranked with those of Jeffer 
 son, Thomas Pinckney, Adams, and John 
 Jay. John Adams was elected by a bare 
 majority of three over Thomas Jefferson. 
 The Republican party was making deep in 
 roads into the ranks of the Federalists. 
 Hamilton viewed the result with apprehen- 
 
/ rei 
 
 / mi 
 
 ( of 
 
 X ph 
 
 36 Five American Politicians 
 
 sion. He seemed to believe that Jefferson 
 was the arch enemy of the Union, and that 
 Burr was an evil genius whose sway would 
 plunge all things into utter ruin. He thor 
 oughly succeeded in convincing Washington 
 that Burr was a wicked, unprincipled, un- 
 w r orthy man. 
 
 ~~ In 1794 there was a loud clamor for the 
 removal of Gouverneur Morris, the American 
 minister in Paris. A congressional caucus 
 Republicans recommended Burr for the- 
 ace, and a committee headed by Madison 
 made known their wish to the President- 
 Washington replied that he had made it a 
 rule of his life never to nominate a man 
 for high office of whose integrity he was not 
 assured. Later, when war with France 
 seemed imminent and Washington was 
 placed in command of the national army, 
 he appointed Hamilton to a high command, 
 . but refused to recognize Burr, who was by 
 f far the ablest soldier of them all. This an 
 tipathy for Burr in the bosom of Washing 
 ton was the harvest of Hamilton s planting. 
 Even in the farewell address Hamilton wrote 
 for Washington, he took a thrust at Burr s 
 political methods, when he warned his 
 countrymen to avoid secret and sinister 
 political organizations and combinations. 
 
 In 1797 the Federalists were again in the 
 ascendant in New York. They finally had 
 succeeded in making John Jay governor. 
 They controlled both branches of the legis- 
 
Aaron Burr 37 
 
 lature by large majorities, and elected good 
 old General Schuyler to succeed Burr in 
 the senate by an all but unanimous vote. 
 It looked as if Burr s sun had set. Hamil 
 ton was short-sighted enough to think so. 
 But before the result of the ballot had been 
 announced, Burr was forming plans for the 
 overthrow of Federalism in the election of 
 1800. And first he secured his own election 
 to the state legislature. With his powerful 
 machine in New York city this was an easy 
 task. At Albany he was busied in forming 
 the friendship of party leaders from the 
 rural districts. He would dine them, play 
 skilfully upon their unsophisticated minds, 
 and flatter their vanity by requesting that 
 they introduce bills and resolutions he had 
 prepared. 
 
 In the session of 1799 he resorted to a 
 trick that reminds one forcibly of the pres 
 ent day methods. At that time the banking 
 business of New York city was monopolized 
 by wealthy Federalists, and Republican 
 merchants often found it difficult to obtain 
 accommodation from them. The yellow 
 fever had ravaged the city the year before, 
 and it was commonly supposed the epidemic 
 was due to impure water. Burr saw his 
 opportunity and introduced a bill charter 
 ing " The Manhattan Company," ostensibly 
 for the laudable purpose of supplying the 
 city with pure water. The amount of capi 
 tal necessary could not be definitely fore- 
 
38 Five American Politicians 
 
 told, so the petitioners prayed for authority 
 to raise two million dollars, thinking it more 
 desirable to contend with a surplus than a 
 deficit. In order to utilize properly a sur 
 feit, should they have one, they asked that 
 "the surplus capital might be employed 
 in any way not inconsistent with the laws 
 and constitution of the United States or 
 of the State of New York." This bill Burr 
 introduced at the very end of the session 
 and it was hurried through, the members 
 voting for it without even reading it. Gov 
 ernor Jay signed the bill in spite of admon 
 itions from the Chief Justice of the state 
 that the surplus capital clause was too 
 vague. The waterworks were never built. 
 But the Manhattan Bank was at once es 
 tablished, and the Republicans had a finan- 
 icial institution. This bit of duplicity de 
 feated Burr in April of that year for reelec 
 tion to the legislature. But a greater con 
 test was at hand. 
 
 The supreme political struggle in the life 
 of Aaron Burr was the presidential election 
 of 1800. To overthrow the Federalists was 
 the cherished hope of his heart. To share 
 in the fruits of victory, either as president 
 or vice-president, was the shining summit 
 of his ambition. To this end had he la 
 bored while in the national senate, winning 
 loyal adherents among the representatives of 
 the southern and western states, for he knew 
 New England would remain Federal beyond 
 
Aaron Burr 39 
 
 the reach of any Republican. To this end 
 he had organized his city following into a 
 compact secret order. To this end had he 
 gone to the legislature and courted the 
 favor of country members. And now to 
 this end he bent the tremendous energies 
 of his intellect. Four years before the 
 Democrats were within three votes of vic 
 tory. If New York could be won, then the 
 first Democratic President would enter the 
 new capitol in triumph. What were the 
 prospects? In 1798 the Federalist Jay had 
 been elected by a majority of 2382, a tre 
 mendous victory for that time. In 1799 
 Burr himself was defeated by over 900 ma 
 jority for the legislature. The Federalists 
 controlled both state and national govern 
 ments. They were confident and jubilant. 
 Jefferson wrote that he feared the election 
 would be even more unfavorable than in 
 1796. But Aaron Burr taught the Demo 
 cratic party how to wrest victory from the 
 jaws of defeat. 
 
 First of all, he organized his following. 
 Now we must return to Tammany, the or 
 ganization which formed the nucleus of the 
 first party discipline in America. Through 
 Tammany, Burr controlled the artisans, the 
 poorer freeholders. His own home became 
 the rendezvous of his most trusted lieuten 
 ants, whose hearts were kindled by the fire 
 of his own zeal. 
 
 In the second place he selected a not- 
 
40 Five American Politicians 
 
 able list of candidates for the legislature. 
 The audacity and sagacity displayed in his 
 ^choice and the skill and rare tact required 
 to persuade them to accept, dazzled even 
 his friends. All the antagonizing elements 
 must be brought together in harmony on 
 the face of a single ticket. Burr, of course, 
 must be in the legislature, for at this time 
 the legislators selected the presidential elec 
 tors. But his Manhattan escapade had 
 made him enemies. So he became a candi 
 date from Orange county, where he was 
 very popular. 
 
 In the city he chose George Clinton to 
 head the ticket. Himself an aspirant for 
 the presidency who had received fifty elec 
 toral votes out of 132, in 1793, when Jeffer 
 son had only four, and not a friend of Jeffer 
 son, should he now become an aid to his pro 
 motion? He was an old man, who had 
 been in the public eye for nearly half a 
 century, a big, honest, strong-willed Irish 
 man. For three days he resisted the at 
 tacks of Burr, of committees, of sub-com 
 mittees. Finally Burr said that in a crisis 
 it is for the people to demand service, and 
 that he would be nominated anyway. The 
 old war horse stubbornly conceded not pub 
 licly to withdraw his name. 
 
 Second in the list stood General Gates, 
 the gallant conqueror of Burgoyne, a stanch 
 adherent of Burr, and an antagonist of 
 Hamilton and the Schuylers. Yet his aver- 
 
Aaron Burr 4 1 
 
 sion to running for the legislature was 
 greater than his hatred for the Schuylers 
 and his love for Burr. Artful and impor 
 tunate were the entreaties that the brilliant 
 politician poured into the ears of his old 
 commander, who finally said that he would 
 remain on the ticket if Clinton would. 
 
 Third on this remarkable list stood 
 Brockholst Livingstone, a gifted member of 
 that influential tribe that now had fully iden 
 tified itself with the Republican party. He 
 proved a little more tractable, and prom 
 ised to accept the nomination on condition 
 that Gates and Clinton did. 
 
 The other nine men were comparatively 
 easy of conquest. They were all men of 
 ability, chosen for their influence over vari 
 ous groups. I do not believe that a stronger 
 legislative ticket was ever placed before any 
 electorate. And no one but Burr could have 
 conceived such a list, and talents less capti 
 vating than his would have failed in persuad 
 ing the men to stand. 
 
 A great mass meeting was next called to 
 ratify this remarkable ticket, and the public 
 campaign moved rapidly forward under the 
 personal guidance and inspiration of the ir 
 repressible Burr. Ward meetings, precinct 
 meetings, enormous mass" meetings, were in 
 flamed by the passion of his speech. What 
 is probably the first poll list made in an 
 American campaign was prepared by his 
 lieutenants, and every voter in the city was 
 
42 Five American Politicians 
 
 recorded in these lists, together with his pol- 
 -\- itics, his zeal, his temperament, health, hab 
 its, and his vulnerable points. 
 
 Tammany was the beehive of this busy 
 scene. Men were brought into the wigwam 
 by scores, and initiated into the order. So 
 cial,- political, financial, and all other species 
 *r of persuasion were used to compel the reluc 
 tant to take the oath. The unstable were 
 escorted to the polls, and their ballot jeal 
 ously guarded. From grand sachem to brave 
 there was not an idle tongue and indolent 
 hand in the wigwam of the potent Sagamore. 
 
 In those days elections were not the affair 
 of a day. There was no registering, no com 
 plicated ballot with its bewildering list of 
 names. The voter simply walked to the box 
 and dropped his simple ballot. The election 
 occupied three days, and they were days of ex 
 citement, of haranguing, of drinking, of bet 
 ting, and I fear, often of personal encounter. 
 Hamilton s eloquence flowed continuously for 
 the three days of this notable election, and 
 while he held the masses under the spell of his 
 voice, Burr was hurrying everywhere, garner 
 ing the votes. The counting of the ballot 
 showed forth the success of Burr s methods, 
 and proclaimed to the nation that its first 
 political revolution had taken place. For 
 not only did the Republicans carry the city, 
 but also the state, and from that day forth 
 it has been almost uniformly true, " as goes 
 New York so goes the country." 
 
Aaron Bufr 43 
 
 I said this was a political revolution. It 
 placed the Republican party in power. At 
 this day we can have no conception of what 
 that meant to the Federalists. To them Jef- 
 fersonianism was Jacobinism, was atheism, 
 was anarchism, was annihilation. The New 
 England papers were filled with dismal fore 
 bodings and even contemplated the disso 
 lution of the Union. And yet these New 
 England Federalists had provided their an 
 tagonists with a great issue, the Alien and 
 Sedition laws, deservedly unpopular every 
 where. Hamilton was stupefied. He wrote 
 to Bayard of Dalaware that Burr s Tam 
 many Society was the cause of the Federal 
 ist defeat in the city, and Burr s activity the 
 source of the Republican strength in the 
 counties. He even recommended that the 
 Federalists organize a like machine, without 
 the adjunct of aboriginal ceremony. 
 
 All eyes now turned toward Jefferson. It 
 should be remembered that in those years 
 the presidential electors were chosen by the 
 various state legislatures, and not all upon 
 the same day; that there was no general 
 nomination of any one man for the high of 
 fice, but that each elector was left free to 
 vote as he chose. It was conceded by all 
 that Jefferson was the choice of the people. 
 Would he be the choice of the electors? The 
 result was not known until the middle of De 
 cember. It was disappointing to the Re 
 publicans, and startling to the Federalists. 
 
44 Five American Politicians 
 
 Jefferson and Burr each received 73 votes, 
 Adams 65, Pinckney 64, and Jay 1. There 
 was a tie. The electors had not made a 
 choice. The House of Representatives 
 must decide for them. 
 
 All eyes were now turned toward Aaron 
 Burr. Would he subvert the popular will 
 and intrigue with the Federalists to place 
 himself at the head of the government? Or 
 would he actively engage his remarkable po 
 litical talents in behalf of Jefferson? The 
 great majority of his contemporaries, and 
 of historians, believe the former. Not even 
 his friends concede the latter. I believe 
 that such evidence as can be gathered 
 proves that he did neither. 
 
 He did intrigue, before the election, to be 
 come the candidate for Vice-President. In 
 May, 1800, an informal caucus of Republicans 
 was held in Philadelphia, wherein it was 
 determined to give New York the vice-pres 
 idency, Jefferson being the only man con 
 templated for the presidency. For the sec 
 ond place, Chancellor Livingstone, Governor 
 Clinton, and Aaron Burr were mentioned. 
 Albert Gallatin was asked to sound these 
 men. He wrote to Commodore Nicholson, 
 of New York, requesting him to see them, 
 and to converse freely with party leaders 
 to determine their availability. 
 
 Livingstone was old and deaf, and there 
 fore dropped at once. Clinton was the pop 
 ular choice, but he maintained that advanced 
 
Aaron Burr 45 
 
 age, ill health and family contingencies all 
 combined to disincline him toward the place. 
 He really thought himself entitled to the 
 first place in the Anti-Federal ranks. Nich 
 olson insisted that the welfare of the party 
 demanded his acceptance of the nomina 
 tion, and Clinton reluctantly yielded. Nich 
 olson was so favorably impressed that he 
 wrote a letter to the Philadelphia caucus, 
 recommending Clinton. But he showed 
 this letter to Burr before it was posted, and 
 when the seal was finally put on the envel 
 ope, the name of Clinton had been erased, 
 and that of Aaron Burr written in its place. 
 What wiles did the crafty Burr use in per- 
 suading the old commodore? During the 
 excitement of the following winter, when 
 the whole nation was at a white heat, and 
 when one word form Burr would have re 
 stored sanity to a crazed people, it must have 
 occurred to Nicholson that the fate of the 
 young republic seemed to depend upon that 
 erasure. 
 
 That Burr, however, designed to defeat 
 Jefferson after the voice of the people had 
 spoken so clearly, is mere conjecture. If 
 he did so intend, he succeeded in completely 
 hiding all evidences. The Republicans had 
 bungled in the arranging of the electoral 
 vote. They could easily have avoided the 
 tie, by dropping one vote from Burr. This 
 was contemplated by the Virginia delega 
 tion, but a report that New York would do 
 
46 Five American Politicians 
 
 the same thing, induced them to abandon 
 the plan. Did Burr start this report? There 
 is no such evidence. Did Burr confuse the 
 Republican leaders into this blunder? Prej 
 udice, and not evidence, answers yes. 
 
 The Federalists of New England preferred 
 Burr to Jefferson. Their papers, their let 
 ters, their pamphlets, all are frank in this 
 avowal. The "Boston Sentinel" says: 
 "The Federal states in Congress will give 
 T Mr. Burr their suffrages. Mr. Burr has 
 never yet been charged with writing libelous 
 letters against the government of his coun 
 try to foreigners, and his politics always 
 have been open and undisguised. It is 
 granted he is ambitious, but he is no hypo 
 crite, and though he is like Bonaparte in 
 some respects, he possesses none of the cold- 
 hearted qualities of the Gallic Consul." 
 
 This was the prevailing New England sen 
 timent. Had the house of representatives 
 convened in December, 1800, to choose a 
 president, the New England Federalists 
 would have given their support to Burr. 
 What influence overcame their predilections? 
 There was only one power in the Federal party 
 potent enough to avert the elevation of Burr 
 over Jefferson. It was the power of Hamil 
 ton. The genius of that gifted man was now 
 applied to the single object of keeping his 
 hated rival out of the presidential chair. 
 He first tried to steal the electoral vote of 
 New York by having Governor Jay call an 
 
Aaron Burr 47 
 
 extra session of the legislature and pass a 
 bill that should provide that the presiden 
 tial electors be appointed by districts and 
 not by the newly - elected legislature. 
 Governor Jay refused to be a party to such 
 a scheme. Two years before Burr had tried 
 to inaugurate a similar method of choosing 
 the electors, and had been roundly denounced 
 for this partisan trickery. 
 
 Hamilton now turned to his personal 
 friends in the party. He wrote, expostu 
 lated, argued, pleaded. To all he pictured 
 Burr as without principle, profligate, selfish ; 
 a Caesar, a Catiline, a Bonaparte whose elec 
 tion would disgrace the country, if not hurl 
 it to ruin. A perusal of Hamilton s letters 
 reveals the skill with which he adapted his 
 arts to the various individuals he desired to 
 sway, and leaves one wondering how much 
 the spirit of jealousy prompted his patriot- 
 ism. 
 
 As the day for the election in the House 
 of Representatives neared, the excitement 
 increased. The House consisted of 106 
 members, the majority of whom were Fed 
 eralists. Of the sixteen states in the Union, 
 it was necessary to secure a majority for 
 election. This federal house was limited 
 in its choice to an Anti-Federal candidate. 
 How strange this sounds to our ears! We 
 can hardly conceive a Republican house 
 electing a Democratic president. The con 
 stitution then prescribed that the choice 
 
48 Five American Politicians 
 
 should be restricted to the two receiving the 
 highest number of electoral votes. If only 
 a majority of the members had sufficed 
 Burr would have been chosen on the first 
 ballot. But he could not secure a majority 
 of the states. The House, before beginning 
 to ballot, resolved not to adjourn until an 
 election had been effected. After taking 29 
 ballots, they eluded this resolution by tak 
 ing a recess. Every member was present. 
 Some sick members were cared for on sofas, 
 and one member was so seriously ill that he 
 was attended by his wife. The balloting 
 was done behind closed doors. After seven 
 days of voting, Bayard, of Delaware, cast the 
 vote of his state for Jefferson, and thus ter 
 minated one of the most memorable contests 
 for the presidency in our country s history. 
 Throughout this exciting period, Burr 
 bore himself with the dignity and poise that 
 became a candidate for the high office of 
 .Vice-President. He spent his days at Al 
 bany as a member of the legislature, or in 
 New York attending to his practice. His 
 friends, it is true, were busy in his behalf 
 among the Federalist members of the House. 
 How far they carried their electioneering, 
 and to what extent Burr encouraged them, 
 will probably always remain one of th^-se- 
 crets of our history. The vituperative par 
 tisan accounts published by Cheetham and 
 other of his bitterest enemies, cannot be re 
 lied upon as sources. They reveal only 
 
Aaron Burr 49 
 
 souls surcharged with the gall of hate. 
 Their vital sentences all begin with "It is 
 said," or "It is reported," or "They re 
 late." Nothing authoritative is found in all 
 their rancorous literature. 
 
 Burr might easily have secured the elec 
 tion had he put forth personal effort, and 
 given even an equivocal renunciation of Re 
 publicanism. Judge Cooper, father of the 
 novelist, and a Federal member of the House, 
 wrote to Thomas Morris on the third day of 
 the balloting: "Had Burr done anything 
 for himself, he would long ere this have been 
 President. If a majority would answer, he 
 would have it on every vote." Bayard, 
 whose course decided the election, wrote 
 Hamilton: "The means existed of electing 
 Burr, but this required his cooperation. 
 By deceiving one man (a great blockhead) 
 and tempting two (not incorruptible), he 
 might have secured a majority of the states." 
 
 Burr did not make the requisite movement 
 to secure these votes. He remained utterly 
 passive. 
 
 Nor did his spirit require him to exert him 
 self in behalf of a man for whose talents he 
 had little admiration, and whose sentimen- 
 talism he detested. For Burr had never 
 loved Jefferson. He now did not feel 
 called to aid his election. He kept himself 
 entirely aloof from the contest. He pur 
 sued the attitude of a man who would ac 
 cept the presidency if elected, but would not 
 
 4 
 
 / v> ^ 
 ^ 
 
50 Five American Politicians 
 
 as much as raise a finger, either in his own 
 behalf, or in behalf of his rival. 
 
 Brave as a soldier, brilliant as a lawyer, 
 unrivaled as a politician, he was now in the 
 zenith of his splendor. Had his feet rested 
 upon the firm foundation of a great cause, 
 or noble character, the clouds that now gath 
 ered rapidly about him would not have ob 
 scured his glory. But his station had been 
 reached by the arts of the politician. De 
 sign, not greatness of purpose, had won him 
 power. He could organize and inspire a 
 machine, but he could not dazzle the multi 
 tude. Since the death of his wife, in 1794, 
 he became as careless of his morals as he was 
 profligate of his money. There is a time in 
 the career of every public man when he 
 must rely on something far greater than po 
 litical device for his power over the people. 
 Alas for Burr, he lacked this one thing ! The 
 people would not rally to his support when 
 the plotters of his party turned their arts 
 against him. 
 
 A hotter presiding officer never guided the 
 routine of the Senate. He was impartial 
 arid immediate in His rulings, dignified and 
 prompt in demeanor, and non-partisan 
 when he held the casting vote. He was a 
 very popular man in the capital, and was 
 feted as the general who had led his party to 
 its first national victory. But he was in 
 Jefferson s way. The Vice-Presidency was 
 
Aaron Burr 51 
 
 regarded as a stepping-stone to the Presi 
 dency. The Virginia dynasty had selected 
 Madison, secretary of state, as the succes 
 sor to Jefferson. All the power of the Fed- 
 eral patronage was used against Burr. In 
 New York where he should have been con 
 sulted in the distribution of offices, he was 
 given only a few petty places. The Liv 
 ingstones and Clintons were loaded with ap 
 pointments. Republican papers began to 
 grow lukewarm toward Burr. The " Amer 
 ican Citizen, "Republican organ of New York, 
 edited by Cheetham, an unscrupulous En 
 glishman, savagely attacked him because of 
 his imagined intrigues with the Federalists. 
 The "Evening Post," founded by Hamilton 
 and edited by the able William Coleman, at 
 tacked him because of his political methods, 
 and characterized his followers as a "band 
 of desperate and unsound citizens." His 
 own organ, the "Morning Chronicle," found 
 ed in 1802 and edited by Peter Irving, a 
 brother of Washington Irving, who was a 
 contributor to its columns, could hardly 
 neutralize the acid of these attacks. 
 
 Thus the coldness of Jefferson was divert 
 ing Republican sentiment from Burr, and 
 the unabating efforts of Hamilton were alien 
 ating the Federalists who had regarded him 
 with so much favor. Even to a genius with 
 the resource of an overshadowing issue, 
 such a dual attack must be fatal. 
 
 The years of his Vice-Presidency were 
 
52 Five American Politicians 
 
 passed amid such political ferment. Burr 
 made it a rule of his life never to answer a 
 charge or to heed a calumny. He paid ap 
 parently no attention to the newspapers. 
 They did not disturb his serenity by day 
 nor his repose by night. But his friends, of 
 whom he had many, loyal and true, could 
 not sit idly by while their chief was being 
 slandered. They hotly answered the attacks. 
 The details of this war of epithets and person 
 alities are disgusting. I pass them by without 
 illustration or comment. But while Burr ap 
 peared indifferent to their disgraceful libels 
 and to the conspiracies of Jefferson, he was far 
 from blind as to their results. He foresaw 
 that he could not hope for the undivided sup 
 port of his party in the coming presidential 
 campaign. In January, 1804, he had a long 
 conference with Jefferson, and frankly 
 avowed that it would be for the interests 
 of the party and would avert a schism if 
 he would retire from the contest. The 
 President gave him no other encouragement 
 than to assure him that he never allowed 
 any one to converse with him on the sub 
 ject of candidates. He wished to leave that 
 entirely with the people; and all the while 
 he was conspiring to put Madison in Burr s 
 place! In commenting on this conference 
 in his diary, Jefferson says that Burr s con 
 duct "inspired me with distrust. I habit 
 ually cautioned Mr. Madison against trust 
 ing him too much." 
 
Aaron Burr 53 
 
 Burr s hope for further political promotion 
 now reposed in the arms of the people of his 
 own state. To them he determined to ap 
 peal. Could he be chosen governor of New a 
 York his prestige as the leader of his party * 
 would be unquestioned, and he would come 
 forth the rival of Jefferson and the peer of 
 Madison. A legislative caucus, held in the 
 Tontine Coffee House, nominated him for the 
 place. This choice was subsequently ratified 
 by great meetings held in New York and 
 Albany. 
 
 The Federalists were now scarcely a party 
 in New York. They could not hope to carry 
 an election, except by unitedly supporting 
 some other candidate. The Clintonians 
 named Morgan Lewis as their candidate, a 
 man of mediocre talents and a violent parti 
 san, who was not altogether acceptable to 
 the Federalists. Yet to Hamilton there was 
 no choice. The passion of his life was to 
 defeat Burr. Hamilton went to Albany for 
 a conference with his party associates. The 
 meeting was held in Lewis s Tavern and was 
 supposed to be secret. But several Burrites 
 hid in an adjoining bedroom and spied out 
 what transpired. The next day the " Morning 
 Chronicle" said: "Last night the leading 
 Federal gentlemen of this place had a meeting 
 at the city tavern. General Hamilton ad 
 dressed the meeting with his usual eloquence. 
 The principal part of his speech went to show 
 that no reliance can be placed on Mr. Burr." 
 
54 Five American Politicians 
 
 The contest was not one of parties but 
 of factions, and factional wrath is far more 
 vituperative than partisan zeal. Burr s fol 
 lowing were held, by their chief, well within 
 the precincts of decorum. But the Clin- 
 tonians were fire-eaters. Their brands were 
 fed with the oil of Federalism. Cheetham 
 especially reveled in libel and gorged 
 his spleen in handbills and pamphlets 
 whose lies were equalled only by their vul 
 garity. Heroic were the efforts of Tam 
 many to wring victory from the powerful 
 coalition of its enemies. But it was in 
 vain. While Burr carried the city, the state 
 gave Lewis 35,000 votes, against 28,000 for 
 the Vice-President. 
 
 There is a prevalent feeling that Burr 
 was intent upon severing the union, and by 
 becoming governor of New York planned 
 to elevate himself to the Presidency of 
 a northern republic composed of the New 
 England and North Atlantic States. The 
 persistence of this opinion reveals the ease 
 with which human nature is misled and 
 how unfair history may become. The only 
 foundation for such a slander is the wicked 
 imagination of the unprincipled Cheetham 
 and the zealous partisanship of Hamilton.. 
 Even if Burr had been traitorously minded, 
 he was too wise a man to be deluded inta 
 such vagaries. 
 
 Rapid had been Burr s ascent toward the 
 summit of political achievement, thrice 
 
Aaron Burr 55 
 
 rapid was his decline. The storm-clouds 
 that for three years had been gathering 
 about his head burst with a sudden fury. 
 If Burr had been content to bide his time, 
 he would not have ventured into the strug 
 gle for governor but would have allowed the 
 opposition to subside. Even after his de 
 feat in New York, had he retired to his law 
 practice, he would in the course of time have 
 been restored to public favor. But his 
 spirit was restless. He was not the man to 
 submit to defeat without a struggle. He 
 realized that of the elements that con 
 tributed to his overthrow, none was less 
 excusable and more purely personal than 
 the relentless antagonism of Hamilton that 
 had pursued him for ten years like a death 
 winging shadow. He had paid little atten 
 tion to this, but six weeks after the election 
 proofs were placed in his hands of unwar 
 ranted personal attacks upon his char 
 acter. He wrote to Hamilton asking for 
 explanations. The correspondence that en 
 sued culminated in the duel that deprived 
 Hamilton of his life and Burr of his honor. 
 The details of this lamentable encounter 
 do not concern us here. Both principals 
 made careful preparation and wrote their 
 wills. Hamilton spent the night before the / 
 duel in restless writing; Burr slept. Hamil 
 ton crossed the Hudson determined to throw 
 away his first fire; Burr mounted the nar 
 row ledge under the Heights of Weehawken, 
 
H; 
 
 \ th 
 \ by 
 
 56 Five American Politicians 
 
 fully determined not to waste one bullet. 
 That bullet entered Hamilton s breast, and 
 it had been well for Burr if the ball that 
 broke the twig far above his head had 
 found lodgment in his heart. Hamilton 
 died the following day, after heartrending 
 farewells to his wife and seven children; 
 Burr hid in his mansion on Richmond Hill. 
 Hamilton was borne to his grave mourned 
 by the nation; Burr fled the city of his 
 triumphs, a fugitive from justice. The peo 
 ple gathered at every meeting place to eulo 
 gize the character of Hamilton; two grand 
 juries met to indict Burr of murder. Ham 
 ilton was canonized a political saint; Burr 
 was condemned as a political satan:^ Every 
 simple trait of Hamilton was glorified into 
 a virtue, and every virtue sanctified into 
 divinity; every foible of Burr was trans 
 muted into a vice, and every folly developed 
 into fiendish wickedness. The frailties of 
 Hamilton were enwrapped in his shroud; 
 
 e shining qualities of Burr were tarnished 
 y slander and bigotry^ 
 
 Strange and inexplicable as was "this uni 
 versal outburst of laudation and condemna 
 tion, far more mysterious is the fact that 
 the hot judgment of those days has not been 
 cooled by one hundred years of history ; and 
 that the sentiments of the Federal parsons 
 who preached in every hamlet their eulogistic 
 panegyrics of Hamilton have remained the 
 prevalent sentiment of to-day. Hamilton 
 
Aaron Burr 57 
 
 is still the hero, Burr the villain of that la 
 mentable tragedy. 
 
 Not that society condemned the duel. It 
 was one of the remnants of the gentleman s 
 day that clung to the customs of the hour, 
 as did small-clothes and wigs. Few notable 
 men of the time had escaped encounters and 
 still fewer had eluded challenges. Even at 
 a later day duels were fought by Randolph, 
 Clay, Benton, Jackson, and Decatur. Wai- 
 pole, Wellington, Peel, Grattan, Sheridan, 
 Jeffry, D Israeli, all met upon the "field 
 of honor." \The vituperation of the Clinton- 
 ians and their foul mouthpiece, Cheetham; 
 the anger of the Federalists and the personal 
 bitterness of Jefferson united in overpower 
 ing this brilliant daring and alas, conscience 
 less man. vFor if ever there was cause for 
 a political duel, Burr, indeed, was justified 
 in the challenge. That he was justified in 
 the cold-blooded execution of the design, 
 who shall say? 
 
 And what of his immediate following? 
 Was Tammany accessory before the fact? 
 Two sachems, Mathew L. Davis and William 
 P. Van Ness, were with Burr at Weehawken, 
 one of them as his second. Another sachem, 
 John Swartout, was at Burr s house waiting 
 his return. Other members were disposed 
 at different points to learn the news. Tam 
 many secretly rejoiced at the fall of their 
 unrelenting foe. The night of Hamilton s 
 death, Martling s Long Room was the scene 
 
58 Five American Politicians 
 
 of a disgraceful revel, and toasts were drunk 
 to the chieftain who had slain their bitter 
 est enemy. But on the following morning, 
 Tammany prudently bowed to public opin 
 ion and put on a hypocritical coat of mourn 
 ing. The following item appeared in the 
 New York papers : 
 
 " Brothers, your attendance is earnestly 
 requested at an extra meeting of the tribes 
 in the Great Wigwam, precisely at the 
 setting of the sun this evening, to make 
 arrangements for joining our fellow-citizens 
 and soldiers in a procession, in order to 
 pay the last tribute of national respect due 
 to the manes of our departed fellow-citizen, 
 General Alexander Hamilton. By order 
 of the Grand Sachem. 
 
 " JAMES B. BRISST, Secy. 
 
 "Season of Fruits, in the year of discovery 
 Three Hundred and Twelve, and of the 
 Institution the Fifteenth." 
 
 The way the news of the fatal duel was 
 received by the public was a complete sur 
 prise to Burr. I select two newspaper items 
 of that date to show the prevailing feeling 
 in both parties. The "Columbia Sentinel 
 and Massachusetts Federalist," heavily in 
 mourning, said: "Yesterday, before and 
 after General Hamilton s death, Colonel 
 Burr was seen riding about the streets, his 
 servants behind, with as much apparent 
 cheerfulness and unconcern as if nothing 
 
Aaron Burr 59 
 
 had happened, or as if he had performed a 
 meritorious action instead of having com 
 mitted murder. "The Independent Chron 
 icle" a Republican paper of Boston, showed 
 no heavy lines of mourning and did not con 
 tain a notice of the duel until July 23d, 
 twelve days after the event occurred, 
 when it announced : " When the partial fer 
 vor of the moment has subsided we shall en 
 deavor to present to the public such a brief 
 commentary upon the life and political 
 character of General Hamilton as may be 
 proper for a philanthropist to write and a 
 Republican to peruse." Wild rumors were 
 afloat that Burr had decided to kill five 
 other of his opponents. 
 
 When he learned that the grand juries of 
 New Jersey and New York were about to 
 indict him, he fled to Philadelphia where 
 he had an affair of the heart. Never for 
 a moment did he lose his self-composure, 
 never did he think of explaining his ac 
 \ To his own self was he justified in killing 
 < his rival, and to Aaron Burr, Aaron Burr 
 ! was all-sufficient. To his daughter, now 
 jEappHy married and living in South Caro 
 lina, he writes from Philadelphia: "If any 
 male friend of yours should be dying of 
 ennui, recommend him to engage in a 
 courtship and a duel at the same time." 
 He sought his way down the coast to South 
 Carolina, where he spent ten blissful days 
 with his Theodosia. In the South his 
 
60 Five American Politicians 
 
 Journey was a triumphal progress. Feder 
 alism had not penetrated the warmer states. 
 At Washington he was received with marked 
 attentions. In response to a toast, said one 
 senator: "The first duel I ever read of was 
 that of David killing Goliath. Our little 
 David of the Republican party has killed 
 the Goliath of Federalism, and for this I 
 am willing to reward him." 
 
 Burr had yet to preside over one session 
 of the Senate. So dignified and noble was 
 his demeanor, so carefully did he sustain 
 himself, that even the breath of suspicion 
 could find no fault. Toward the end of the 
 session he spoke his farewell to his colleagues 
 Whatever emotions may have been burning 
 within his soul, his complete composure con 
 cealed them. But so fervent and impres 
 sive was his language, and so lofty his senti 
 ments, that his auditors were entranced, 
 and many a staid senator found tears steal 
 ing into his eyes. This was his power over 
 the intellect and the emotions. 
 
 But New England and New York would 
 neither forgive nor forget. The one was too 
 Puritanic, the other too partisan. Burr saw 
 that he must allow the fever to subside ere he 
 could return to his home. He writes: "In 
 New York I am to be disfranchised, in New 
 Jersey hanged. Having substantial objec 
 tions to both, I shall not for the present hazard 
 either, but shall seek another country." 
 
 Let us rapidly follow this unfortunate 
 
Aaron Burr 61 
 
 man through the melancholy sequel of his 
 life. His political career ends here. Burr s 
 judgment fled with the life of Hamilton. 
 He now becomes an adventurer. He seeks j 
 the throne of Mexico. Reckless talking and 
 foolish cipher messages involve him in a trial 
 for treason. Jefferson pursues him even 
 after two juries have acquitted him and the 
 populace of the Mississippi Valley have re 
 ceived him with loud acclaim. If Jefferson 
 cannot reach his foe by legal process, he will 
 have him by military force. Through the 
 dismal swamps and uninhabited forests of 
 the southern states he is dragged, a prisoner 
 of war in time of peace, to Richmond, there 
 to be tried for high treason. His designs on 
 Mexico, then a Spanish province, are inter 
 preted as idle attempts to split the union, 
 and unite Louisiana with Mexico to form 
 one great nation. The trial is memorable in 
 the annals of our public law. The most bril 
 liant talent at the bar contends before the 
 greatest judge of our history for the inno 
 cence of the greatest politician of his day. 
 What a scene, John Marshall sitting on the 
 bench to try Aaron Burr for treason against 
 the country whos^ favors had placed him all 
 but on the pinnacle of political glory! So 
 ciety, ever won by his captivating manner 
 and brilliant conversation, flocked to his 
 prison home to lighten his hours. His Theo- 
 dosia was at his side to minister to his com 
 forts. He conducted his own defense. In 
 
62 Five American Politicians 
 
 a court of law he was at home. The state s 
 witnesses could not testify to an overt act. 
 The pompous, hypocritical and arrogant 
 General Wilkinson, whose testimony was to 
 send Burr to the gallows, could prove noth 
 ing except his own implication in the designs 
 upon Mexico. There was an acquittal. 
 
 There was one attempt to restore him to 
 power. In 1810 the "Burrites," as the 
 Tammany men were now called, were ap 
 proached by the Clintonians and asked their 
 terms of peace and union. The first condi 
 tion was that Colonel Burr should be recog 
 nized by the union party as a Republican 
 and allowed to return to favor. The Clin 
 tonians promised, and it appeared for a time 
 as though Burr might be restored to power. 
 A dinner was given at Dyde s Tavern to con 
 summate the union. A toast in honor of 
 Aaron Burr was drunk in the following 
 words: "Aaron Burr, late Vice-President 
 of the United States, dignified in the chair, 
 prompt in the cabinet, gallant in the field. 
 May his country duly appreciate his talents 
 and his services." Six cheers were moved 
 for Burr, followed by nine cheers for Clinton. 
 A participant in this celebration said: "By 
 this time we felt prepared to drink forgive 
 ness to everything human, whether savage, 
 sage or Turk." But this dinner and its lib 
 eral flow of wine produced no peace. A 
 rat mass meeting of Clintonians was called, 
 was attended by thousands of turbulent 
 
Aaron Burr 63 
 
 and angry men, who resolved that union was 
 inconsistent, and "that Aaron Burr does 
 not and ought not to possess the confidencce 
 of the Republican party." This was the 
 final attempt of the "Martling Men" to 
 bring their chieftain back to power. But 
 they never ceased to harass Clinton, whom 
 they always believed the instigator of the 
 Anti-Burr faction in the Republican party. 
 
 After the trial, Burr, disguised and under 
 an assumed name, fled to Europe. At the 
 courts of the old world he sought aid in his 
 scheme to conquer Mexico. Four years he 
 sojourned on the continent. At every cap 
 ital he was received with delight. His re 
 splendent talents were meant to shine in 
 court, and his companionship was sought by 
 the greatest scholars of Europe. Jeremy 
 Bentham became his intimate friend. 
 
 In England a project was put in motion to 
 provide a seat for Burr in the House of Com 
 mons. But the antagonism of Jefferson 
 pursued him across the wide ocean, and in 
 stead of a seat in the Commons, the English 
 government politely informed him that his 
 absence from England would be appreciated. 
 Wherever he encountered Americans there 
 he was snubbed. Europe was now in the 
 throes of the Napoleonic wars, and it was 
 very difficult to secure passports. But no ; 
 minister or consul of his native land would 
 offer him friendly service. Jefferson s and 
 Madison s appointees took care to ignore the 
 
64 Five American Politicians 
 
 one man whose political manipulations had 
 placed their president in power. 
 
 England, Sweden, Holland, Germany and 
 France were visited by the wandering exile. 
 For his brilliant mind, winning manners and 
 compelling personality there was universal 
 admiration and wonderment. But for his 
 scheme of empire there was not one word of 
 encouragement. Four years he continued 
 his futile search, t His reckless extravagance 
 and profligacy in money- matters reduced 
 jiim many times to penury, j In London his 
 cash dwindled to two half-pence, which, he 
 says, are better than one pence, "for you 
 can hear them jingle." Often he is com 
 pelled to seek the meanest lodgings, and to 
 go hungry. But his resources were usually 
 equal to his extravagances. He always 
 found means to borrow money from ad 
 miring friends. I cannot find that he re 
 turned very many of these friendly loans. 
 Withal, in the midst of these cares, pursued 
 by his government, avoided by his country 
 men, threatened by want, he found time for 
 the little love intrigues of which he grew so 
 fond in later life. In Paris and Weimar, 
 especially, were his captivating manners the 
 center of feminine adoration, an adoration 
 to which he joyously responded. 
 
 The last year of his sojourn in Europe was 
 one continued effort to secure passage to 
 America. In Paris he was virtually a pris 
 oner of state. Finally he succeeded in find- 
 
Aaron Burr 65 
 
 ing a ship and raising the passage money. 
 But what was his consternation when the ves 
 sel was taken by a British privateer and towed 
 to Yarmouth as a prize. Without funds, 
 he hastened to London. Only Aaron Burr 
 could have survived the struggle with mis 
 fortune that now ensued. Every scheme 
 and device for raising money failed. His 
 fair friends were ever active in his behalf, 
 but their influence could at most only supply 
 his daily wants. After most humiliating 
 attempts he secured passage and started for 
 the land whence he had fled a fugitive, and 
 to which he returned an exile. 
 
 Throughout these years he never lost his 
 marvelous power of self-reliance. Not one 
 moment did his purpose waver. His diary 
 and numerous letters reveal a cheerful, en 
 ergetic and busy personality. There is no 
 resentment manifested toward his enemies. 
 Dignified and indifferent he is, alike to the 
 calumnies of his countrymen and the priva 
 tions of poverty. Occasionally he thinks 
 of his native land. Once he writes: "Alas, 
 the country which I am so anxious to revisit 
 will perhaps reject me with horror." 
 
 His country did not expel him. The in 
 dictments that hung over his name were 
 nolled soon after his arrival, and he was al 
 lowed to remain in New York, to which city 
 he had returned in disguise, and where he 
 remained in hiding until assured that all le 
 gal prosecutions would be abandoned. Then 
 
66 Five American Politicians 
 
 he determined to begin life anew, at the age 
 of 56. A little tin sign bearing the legend, 
 "Aaron Burr, Attorney and Counsellor-at- 
 Law," was nailed over a door on Nassau 
 street, and the following card was published 
 in the papers: "Aaron Burr has returned 
 to the city and has resumed the practice of 
 law." His old popularity seemed at once to 
 return. The day that his presence was 
 made known, he received over five hundred 
 gentlemen callers. Before two weeks passed 
 he had received over two thousand dollars in 
 retainers, a large sum for those days. 
 
 But fate had still in reserve her deadliest 
 weapons. One month after his arrival, The- 
 odosia writes of the death of her only child, 
 a boy of eleven years, whose life was the ris 
 ing star of his grandparent s hope. The 
 blow was terrible. But Burr repressed his 
 emotion, in his effort to console the mother. 
 But Theodosia could not be consoled. She 
 grew gradually weaker, and longed to be 
 with her father. Burr sent a physician 
 to Charleston, to accompany her to New 
 York. The party embarked in a small 
 schooner, " The Patriot." Six days at most 
 should have sufficed for the passage. Six 
 days passed, and no tidings; two weeks 
 passed, and no news. The "Patriot" was 
 never heard from again. Tales of her cap 
 ture by pirates, of the mutiny of her crew, 
 of her foundering in a gale, were brought to 
 the father s ears. The agonizing suspense 
 
Aaron Burr 67 
 
 of these days of waiting wrung from Burr s 
 heart the only tears he was ever known to 
 shed. .This was his supreme grief. He 
 said: ;/"When I realized the truth of her 
 death, the world became^a blank to me, and 
 life then lost its value. ^ And to his son-in- 
 law he wrote that he 7 was now "severed 
 from the human race." 
 
 It was Buix!s-4ih]losp^hy to "accept the 
 inevitable without repining." He resolved 
 in youth always to be cheerful. While he 
 put aside all external things that suggested 
 Theodosia, and bore with his accustomed 
 grace and cheerfulness this prof oundest afflic 
 tion, the death of his daughter robbed him 
 of his incentive to restore himself to power 
 and to regain a fortune. With the life of 
 Theodosia, perished the father s ambition. 
 
 The twenty-four years that remained for 
 him to live were passed in obscurity. His 
 law practice was sufficient to keep him in 
 comfort, but he was not retained for great 
 cases. Prejudice and slander passed into 
 tradition, and when he was an old man of 
 seventy-five years, the children and grand 
 children of his rivals peered at him in fear out 
 of the corners of their eyes, and whispered of 
 the terrible deeds the little, "bent, wrinkled old 
 man had committed in the days of his youth. 
 And the gossips of the town were kept busy 
 exaggerating his love intrigues. He never 
 was free from debt. His recklessness with 
 money increased with age. One by one the 
 
68 Five American Politicians 
 
 loyal companions of his youth passed away, 
 until he was left quite alone. But the won 
 derful fire of his eye never dimmed^ and the 
 compelling charm of his conversation never 
 abated, and the stately poise and self-posses 
 sion of his demeanor never vanished, until 
 the only enemy that could conquer Aaron 
 Burr triumphed. \/His last feeble hours 
 were passed in th bare of a lady whose fa 
 ther he had befriended in the days of his 
 power. The silent angel never carried into 
 the bosom of immortality a more indom 
 itable soul, and never ended a more eventful 
 and sad career. For who can reflect upon 
 the fate of Aaron Burr without a feeling of 
 fear, of awe, and of pity? 
 
 Late in life Burr confessed : " Had I read 
 Sterne more than Voltaire, I might have 
 thought the world large enough for Hamil 
 ton and myself." How profoundly would 
 this training in morals have affected the his 
 tory of American politics ! 
 
DE WITT CLINTON 
 
 FATHER OF THE SPOILS SYSTEM 
 
DE WITT CLINTON 
 
 FATHER OF THE SPOILS SYSTEM 
 
 THE year after the Declaration of Inde 
 pendence had been signed and sent on 
 its quickening journey through the col 
 onies, New York adopted its first constitu 
 tion, a document prepared b}^ John Jay, with 
 the approval of Alexander Hamilton, Richard 
 Morris, Robert Livingstone, John Lansing, 
 Peter Vandervoort, Phillip VanCortland, and 
 a host of other notable men, in convention 
 assembled. The Federal and Democratic 
 elements were unnaturally blended in two 
 of its provisions. One anomaly directed 
 that all laws be approved by a Council of 
 Revision composed of the Governor, the Chan 
 cellor, and the judges of the Supreme Court. 
 The second anomaly was a monstrosity in 
 the shape of a Council of Appointment. The 
 state was divided into four senatorial dis 
 tricts southern, middle, eastern, and west 
 ern. Every year the assembly nominated 
 one senator from each district to serve with 
 the Governor as a member of this Council. 
 The words of the constitution seemed to give 
 the appointing power to the Governor, for 
 he was required, with the advice and con 
 sent of the council, to appoint all officers. 
 
72 Five American Politicians 
 
 Strangely, this clause caused no trouble 
 until its author, the erudite John Jay, was 
 elected governor. His Council was not in 
 political accord with him. The Council 
 claimed the appointing power, saying the 
 governor has a vote only when there was a 
 tie. Subsequently a convention was called 
 to fix an interpretation upon this clause, and 
 the verdict was against the sole power of 
 the Governor. We would to-day regard 
 with alarm the suggestion that a convention 
 and not a supreme court should determine 
 the import of a state constitution. 
 
 This Council was then all powerful: the 
 Governor was merely a chairman. It se 
 lected all civil and military officers of the 
 state, the heads of departments, except the 
 state treasurer, the Chancellor, the judges 
 of the supreme and inferior courts, all jus 
 tices of the peace, and even the auctioneers. 
 Its arm reached into every county, every 
 township; its hands rested upon every 
 branch of the civil and military service. 
 Not in the annals of our public law is there 
 found another example of such centraliza 
 tion of the appointing power. 
 
 Surely the authors of this provision did 
 not foresee the course that American poli 
 tics would take, and that within this inno 
 cent looking clause lurked the spirit of 
 partisanship that guided the politicians of 
 the Empire State into the wilderness of 
 faction and party strife for more than fifty 
 
De Witt Clinton 73 
 
 years, and exerted a corrupting influence 
 over national politics that has even after a 
 century of struggle been scarcely abated. 
 
 This council of appointment was the op- 
 ,paLty, n ity of the politician. That it was not 
 designed as such is evidenced by the" char 
 acter of the men who framed its structure, 
 and by the fact that for twenty-five years 
 the course of appointments seems to have 
 run smoothly enough. It is true that those 
 were years pregnant with great events, with 
 the gaining of national independence, the 
 choosing of a form of government, the estab 
 lishing of a nation; great events that buried 
 deep the petty animosities of pygmy poli 
 ticians and faction venders, great events 
 that held aloft before the people great ideals 
 of office, and forbade that public trusts 
 should be traduced into private lusts. 
 
 Thus it transpired that not until after the 
 great political revolution that opened the 
 new century did a man appear whose train 
 ing taught him the value of office as a means 
 of political power, whose ambition willingly 
 grasped the needs of the state as a means 
 of elevating himself into high place, and 
 whose genius could seize this opportunity 
 and wield it to his own glory. 
 
 Good old George Clinton was for eighteen 
 years governor of "New York. A man was 
 he of courage and of character. Nature had 
 housed, within a great body of marvelous 
 vitality, a great soul of wondrous depth and 
 
74 Five American Politicians 
 
 a great mind of overcoming power. For 
 George Clinton to will, was for him to do. He 
 was as ardent in the execution of his purpose 
 as he was tenacious of his convictions. Once 
 his mind was fixed, it could be bent neither 
 by logic nor by circumstances. He wasjby__ 
 nature an Anti-Federalist, and came near 
 wrecking the new federal constitution upon 
 the rocks of his Irish perversity. But when 
 adopted by the people, the constitution was to 
 him his creed of patriotism, and he was as en 
 ergetic in its defense as he had been active in 
 his opposition. This sturdy character had 
 wrested his power from the reigning families 
 by sheer force of intellect and will. He was 
 the friend of the people and the ally of the 
 weak. His ideals of public office were lofty, 
 and th& tricks of the politician found little 
 favor in his sight. He never throughout his 
 long career as an executive dismissed one man 
 from office without a just cause. 
 
 And quiet, gentle John Jay, who was the 
 first Federalist governor of New York, a 
 scholar, diplomat, jurist, could no more 
 juggle with the wiles of political intrigue 
 than could a cooing dove assume the role 
 of a plundering hawk. TJnder these two 
 governors the council did Its work fairly 
 well. Its appointments were not always 
 above criticism, but it was not flagrantly 
 used for partisan purposes until the advent 
 of a sharp, political manipulator, the Me- 
 phistopheles of the young democracy. 
 
De Witt Clinton 75 
 
 While Aaron Burr was perfecting his ma 
 chine in New York city, DeWitt Clinton 
 was completing his course at Columbia 
 College, and was serving his political 
 apprenticeship as secretary of his renowned 
 uncle, George Clinton. At college young 
 Clinton won praise as a scholar, his instruc 
 tors publicly announcing their belief that 
 he would win renown in the greater endea 
 vors of life. The stirring events of the Rev 
 olution were woven into boyhood romance 
 for him, and the subsequent struggle for 
 national existence formed the livid back 
 ground of his early manhood. His very col 
 lege experience seemed to heighten the color 
 of revolutionary changes, for King s College 
 was transformed into Columbia College. 
 The loyalist president of King s College had 
 been ignominiously driven from his home, 
 fleeing through a back window from the 
 mob that clamored at his front door, and 
 after the evacuating of New York by the 
 British, a new president gathered about him 
 a new faculty, mJ)j^WittJ^ 
 first - jziatcioularte- -of ^ ^tJiajieij^nH^plumbia. 
 
 In 1788 he was admitted to the bar, and 
 the same year reported the debates of the 
 state convention called to consider the 
 adoption of the United States constitution, 
 a magnificent training for a young lawyer 
 destined to become the leading politician of 
 his day. 
 
 DeWitt was not merely "the nephew of 
 
76 Five American Politicians 
 
 his uncle," he was much more. So natur 
 ally did he take to politics, so skilfully did 
 he manage, that his uncle soon entrusted to 
 him the details of matters purely political. 
 He was^ej2iejiJto^;t]ae~J^ 
 and four years later became a member of 
 the Council of Appointment. 
 
 Now begins the reign of proscription. 
 Young Clinton is the first politician to use 
 the concentrated power of the Council for 
 purely political purposes. He reorganized 
 the state senate and managed the election 
 of the members of the Council, and made 
 himself the dictator of all its actions. The 
 head of every Anti-Clintonian officeholder 
 fell in that campaign for power. Sheriffs, 
 surrogates, county clerks and recorders, 
 mayors and judges, secretary of state and 
 controller, justices by the score and auc 
 tioneers by the hundreds were ruthlessly 
 swept from office and the friends of DeWitt 
 Clinton installed. 
 
 ^.t this moment the Clintons and Living 
 stones were acting in accord and divided the 
 spoils. The larger state offices went to 
 the Livingstones. Chancellor Livingstone, 
 through Governor Clinton s influence, was ap 
 pointed to a foreign embassy; Edward Liv 
 ingstone became mayor of New York, the 
 fattest job in the state. Dr. Tillotson, a 
 brother-in-law of Chancellor Livingstone, 
 was made secretary of state; Morgan Lewis, 
 who had married a fair Li vingstonian, became 
 
De Witt Clinton 77 
 
 chief justice of the Supreme Court; General 
 Armstrong, who also had married into the 
 Livingstone family, was elected United States 
 Senator by the legislature; Brockholst Liv 
 ingstone was made a judge of the Supreme 
 Court, as was also Smith Thompson, whose 
 wife was a Livingstone. Happy was the 
 man who had married a Livingstone. 
 
 In New Yoflkiaity yMttomfti^weE^ placed 
 ^iauaSiee* Thus the subordinate officers were 
 all of DeWitt s choosing. Not a single 
 .place, however small, was alloted to Burr 
 and his Tammany. The bitter struggle of 
 Clinton s life was with the Burrites. He 
 claimed he was the Democratic party. 
 They laid title to the same claim. A third 
 politician, VanBuren, later stepped between 
 the warring factions and organized the real 
 Democratic party from fragments of both. 
 In the counties, too, Clintonians secured the 
 justices and petty township offices. 
 
 At the end of a few short weeks, this bright 
 young politician had revolutionized the po 
 litical theory of officeholding, and instead of 
 sanctifying public office as a public trust, 
 he degraded it into party spoils; for from 
 that time forward every justice of the peace 
 became an electioneering officer, every 
 county official a party slave, every auc 
 tioneer a ward heeler, and even the high 
 officers of the state were underlings in this 
 rigorous system of party discipline. From 
 that day forth politics in New York 
 
78 Five American Politicians 
 
 were simply a struggle to control the Council 
 of Appointment. Faction after faction fell 
 Victim to the vicissitudes of majorities and 
 minorities, leader succeeded leader in the 
 rotation of office. 
 
 JDeWitt Clinton mounted into national 
 prominence upon the pedestal of power he 
 erected from the spoils of office. In 1801 
 he became United States senator, and at the 
 age of thirty-two found himself the associate 
 of the brilliant and erudite Gouverneur 
 Morris. The sterling qualities of the youth 
 ful statesman were not dimmed by compari 
 son with his experienced colleague. 
 
 After two years of service Clinton made 
 the supreme political mistake of his life. 
 He exchanged a seat in the national senate 
 for the mayoralty of New York. By this 
 step he plunged from the heights of national 
 politics into the swirling depths of the petti 
 est and most degrading factional strife re 
 corded in the annals of partisan history. 
 For from 1800 until the slavery issue cast its 
 deepening shadow over the land, political con 
 tests in New York were merely personal feuds 
 between factions and families feuds fought 
 with a rancor and bitterness, with a disre 
 gard for truth and honor that make our 
 modern political contests appear virtuous 
 and present day bosses seem saintly. There 
 was, of course, no such lavish outpouring 
 of money, for candidates were poorer. But 
 Clinton had taught men to view offices as 
 
De Witt Clinton 79 
 
 rewards, and the disgraceful wrangling over 
 positions took the place of the modern 
 struggle for campaign money. 
 
 Into this maelstrom of local politics Clin 
 ton allowed himself to be drawn. He him 
 self had been the most potent force in 
 starting in motion this seething torrent of 
 partisan bitterness, and now he willingly 
 dropped back again into the irresistible cur 
 rent, which hastened him headlong into the 
 turmoils of victory and defeat. Through 
 the vicissitudes of political fortune we will 
 follow this singular man; we will see how 
 his transformation from politician into 
 statesman saved him from death by the 
 very weapons his political genius had forged. 
 
 The position of mayor of New York was 
 a place of power. The mayor had the dis 
 bursement of considerable patronage. He 
 was the president of the common council, 
 the chief judge of the common pleas court 
 and of the criminal court, actual head of the 
 police and fire departments, and chairman 
 of the board of health. Many of the ancient 
 privileges and fees granted by royal charter 
 were still in force, and swelled the annual 
 income of the position to $12,000. 
 
 The appointment, made by the Council of 
 Appointment, was for one year. Clinton held 
 the position until 1315, excepting in brief 
 intervals when the Lewisites were in control. 
 
 The Federal party was at this time little 
 more than a band that clung to life with a 
 
8o Five American Politicians 
 
 courage and tenacity that must elicit admi 
 ration. The Democratic or Republican 
 party was divided into three factions, the 
 Lewisites, led by Governor Lewis, a violent 
 partisan, who later chose the suave Daniel 
 D. Tompkins for their leader; the Burrites, 
 led by Van Ness and Swartout, a little band 
 of well-organized workers, whose headquar 
 ters were Martling s Tavern, and whose 
 spirit was perennially fed by the desire to 
 avenge their great chief; and the Ciinton- 
 ians, led by DeWitt and sheltered from pop 
 ular wrath by the prestige of George Clinton. 
 These three factions made New York city 
 their seat of war, and from their fortified 
 strongholds controlled the state. They all 
 claimed to be the Republican or Democratic 
 party, and continually accused one another 
 of treachery and attempted alliances with 
 the Federalists. It was this charge that 
 Clinton had raised to read Burr out of the 
 party in 1804, and it was the same charge 
 that was hurled against Clinton in 1815, the 
 year of his first downfall. 
 
 In this stifling atmosphere of narrow par 
 tisanship, DeWitt Clinton thrived, and the 
 wonder is that its poisonous gases did not 
 smother the greatness of his soul. He 
 shared in all the littleness of the petty in 
 trigues, the bar-room rivalries, the street- 
 corner discussions. He dispensed the city 
 patronage with the hauteur of a king. The 
 following description of his methods and 
 
De Witt Clinton 81 
 
 his men appeared in 1810, and while it was 
 written by an enemy, is a fair account of ex 
 isting conditions, and is not nearly as violent 
 as other contemporary attacks upon Clinton : 
 
 "You [Clinton] are encircled by a mercen 
 ary band, who, while they offer adulation to 
 your system of terror, are ready at the first 
 favorable moment to forsake and desert you. 
 A portion of them are needy young men, who, 
 without maturely investigating the conse 
 quence, have sacrificed principle to self- 
 aggrandizement. Others are mere parasites, 
 that well know the tenure on which they 
 hold their offices, and will ever pay implicit 
 obedience to those who administer to their 
 wants. Many of your followers are among 
 the most profligate of the community. They 
 are the bane of social and domestic happi 
 ness, servile and dependent panderers." 
 
 This was the partisan description of an en 
 emy who, "In the presence of God and his 
 country/ pledged himself to establish Clin 
 ton s "duplicity and perfidy." 
 
 John Wood, a school teacher, and the 
 author of several intensely partial histories, 
 thus described Clinton s machinations in the 
 council : 
 
 "De Witt Clinton, then in the Council of 
 Appointment, regardless of the admonitions 
 of his venerable uncle, was spreading with ma 
 lignant fury, ruin and destruction through 
 out the state of New York. A band of pre 
 tended patriots, only capable of acting as 
 
82 Five American Politicians 
 
 promoters of a puppet show, were hastening 
 in to garble the fees of office. During this 
 farcical scene, the auctioneers or hammer 
 men were buzzing about like wandering bees 
 that had lost their hive. Mothers were seen 
 suppliant for days together in Mr. Clinton s 
 lobby to obtain pardon for their sons ; while 
 affectionate wives did not hesitate to throw 
 themselves at the feet of DeWitt to shield 
 their husbands from beggary. Every vil 
 lain in New York volunteered in his ser 
 vice." 
 
 These highly-colored views are somewhat 
 distorted by partisanship. The truth is 
 that Clinton, during these years of his ma 
 yoralty, did organize his following, which 
 consisted mostly of artisans and the poorer 
 classes, that he did stoop to vulgar methods, 
 that he did use his office purely for selfish 
 ends. He was particularly strong among 
 the Irish and Scotch. His appointees were 
 all his trusted followers. Barbers, bar 
 tenders, loiterers and artisans were active 
 parts in his personal machine. Besides 
 holding the office of mayor, Clinton also was 
 a member of the state senate, and in 1811 
 was Lieutenant Governor. Thus he wielded 
 double control: he held in his right hand 
 the patronage of the state, and in his left the 
 patronage of the city. 
 
 Meanwhile he made a good mayor. His 
 temperament was judicial, not rash, and he 
 presided in court with ponderous dignity, 
 
De Witt Clinton 83 
 
 and ruled with fairness and equity. His 
 mind was progressive, and he delighted in 
 the researches of natural science. He made a 
 valuable member of the various city boards. 
 In body he was a giant, well developed and 
 robust, and he made an efficient police offi 
 cer, feared by the mob, and obeyed by his 
 lieutenants. He was present at nearly 
 every fire, and several times his brawny arms 
 helped to quell turbulent uprisings among 
 the sailors and wharfmen. Withal, he had 
 a gift for scientific research and literary ex 
 pression, and this opened for him the doors 
 of the most refined homes of the city, while 
 his stately dignity and lavish hospitality 
 made the mayor s mansion a renowned social 
 center. 
 
 And Clinton was the embodiment of hon 
 esty; while. J^e used office for power, he never 
 .used it for profit. I cannot find in the entire 
 vituperative political froth of the day a sin 
 gle challenge of his integrity. It was this 
 high-minded attitude on money matters that 
 in later years endeared him to the people, and 
 lifted him into power over the united strength 
 of all factions. 
 
 A dispenser of favors is also a maker of 
 enemies. The disappointed office seekers 
 joined the rivals of Clinton, and in 1809 they 
 succeeded in supplanting him. It was at 
 this crisis that Clinton, then a member of 
 the state senate, attempted his alliance with 
 the Burrites. John Swartout was their 
 
84 Five American Politicians 
 
 leader. Years before Clinton and Swartout 
 had fought a duel at Weehawken over some 
 point of honor raised by the Clintonian prop 
 aganda against Burr. It is one of the unique 
 duels of history. At the first fire neither 
 was hit. "Is the gentleman satisfied?" 
 asked Clinton. Upon a negative, a second 
 shot was exchanged, and Swartout s coat 
 was pierced. Clinton again asked, "Is the 
 gentleman s honor vindicated?" It was 
 not. The third bullet lodged in Swartout s 
 leg, but he remained standing to uphold such 
 honor as had not been vindicated. The 
 final bullet struck the other leg, and with 
 both supports gone, over went the politician, 
 his honor vindicated at last. Swartout soon 
 regained the use of his legs, and they were 
 swifter than ever in carrying destruction 
 into the Clintonian camp. 
 
 But in 1809-10 Clinton was down and out. 
 and therefore in need of aid. He turned to 
 his bitterest foe. The price of peace was 
 the restoration of Burr and the silencing of 
 Cheetham, the Clintonian bloodhound. But 
 when Clinton heard the wild clamor of his 
 henchmen against the proposed union, he 
 evaded the agreement in a manner unworthy 
 the great leader he was. 
 
 Great national events were now agitating 
 the people more profoundly than the mere 
 question of transitory leadership. Napol 
 eon s Milan and Berlin decrees, and the Brit 
 ish Orders in Council were wrecking our 
 
De Witt Clinton 85 
 
 trade and kidnapping our seamen. The war 
 ferment was working in the hearts of patri 
 ots. And politicians were seeking to use 
 this patriotic fervor for personal gain. Clin 
 ton was restored to the mayoralty in 1810, 
 while his rival, Tompkins, was elected gover 
 nor. The Lewisites tried to show that Clin 
 ton was not a patriot because he was op 
 posed to war. All manner of puerile tactics 
 were pursued to prove his heterodoxy. A 
 mass meeting was called by Tammany to 
 endorse President Madison s administration. 
 Clinton was out of town. A Tammany pa 
 per, learning of this, printed in its next issue 
 that "an abominable intrigue" was on foot 
 to make Clinton chairman, and that this 
 would be " an insult to public understand 
 ing." Clinton, of course, was not able to be 
 present at the meeting, and the same paper 
 proclaimed that he was absent because he 
 was not a Republican and out of sympathy 
 with its national attitude. 
 
 In 1811 Clinton was made lieutenant gov 
 ernor to fill a vacancy under Tompkins, his 
 rival. This set Tammany in violent com 
 motion. Martling s Long Room was the 
 scene of a tumultuous meeting that nomi 
 nated Marius Willet for the place, and re 
 solved that Clinton was designing against 
 the Republican party and was "determined 
 to establish in his person a pernicious fam 
 ily aristocracy, that devotion to his person 
 had been in a great measure made the ex- 
 
86 Five American Politicians 
 
 elusive test of merit, and the only passport 
 to promotion/ and as he was opposed to 
 Madison, he was therefore no longer a Re 
 publican. 
 
 Meanwhile the Clintonians met in the Union 
 Hotel and resolved to stand by their patron, 
 but before the meeting was adjourned, the 
 Martlings rushed into the room, puffed out 
 the candles, overturned the furniture, and 
 broke up the meeting. 
 
 Clinton really did believe in war, but he 
 believed in a rigorous and efficient warfare, 
 not in the insipid and half-hearted attempts 
 of Madison and Jefferson. He bellieved 
 that the war should be delayed until the 
 country had an army with at least a sem 
 blance of discipline, and a navy fit to coope 
 rate with the army. To the Federalists he 
 made his position seem one of inaction, 
 therefore they rallied to his support. To 
 the Republicans he seemed guilty of party 
 treason, because he did not approve the 
 course of Madison. 
 
 Clinton quite suddenly decided to become 
 a candidate for President in 1812. With the 
 advent of this ambition departed his polit 
 ical sagacity. For by what means could he 
 hope to be elected, or even nominated? He 
 was not a Federalist, and the Republican 
 congressional caucus, under the domination 
 of the Virginia dynasty, had renominated 
 Madison. Clinton hated this dynasty. He 
 could not forget that his uncle had been 
 
De Witt Clinton 87 
 
 ruthlessly pushed aside in 1808, to make 
 way for Jefferson s favorite. He resolved 
 to break the caucus system, to demolish 
 the dynasty, to become President, and to 
 promote a successful war with Great Britain. 
 
 The congressional caucus was in ill favor 
 in New England and only one member 
 from New York and four from the North 
 eastern Atlantic and New England states 
 attended the caucus that named Madison. 
 It had degenerated into a farce. The Pres 
 ident and his cabinet controlled it com 
 pletely. The will of the people was never 
 consulted. It was boss rule, pure and sim 
 ple, with the boss in the executive chair. 
 
 On May 28, 1812, a co^mjp_ariy..xii,EfipLubli- 
 can members -of the New York legislature 
 nominated Clinton for President, and recom 
 mended him to the other states of the union. 
 K committee of seventeen was appointed to 
 carry this into effect. Thus did Clinton 
 break the congressional caucus. This was 
 running counter to all precedents, and sev 
 eral prominent Republicans refused to par 
 ticipate in the movement. Indeed, those 
 present at the meeting hesitated long before 
 they nominated Clinton, and the arrival of 
 Van Cortland and other congressmen from 
 Washington, with letters from Postmaster 
 General Gideon Granger urging the action, 
 led them to take this final step. It was an 
 earnest and solemn meeting. Everyone 
 present seemed impressed that they were 
 
88 Five American Politicians 
 
 effecting a new departure in political meth 
 ods. General Rust made an impressive 
 speech, in which he endeavored to show how 
 unwise it would be to nominate Clinton 
 against Madison. He lauded Clinton, but 
 said that the procedure would ruin him, and 
 dramatically ended his harangue by throw 
 ing up his arms and crying: "Spare, oh 
 spare, that great man!" 
 
 In September an attempt was made to in 
 duce Clinton to withdraw from the race. 
 General King wrote to Judge Taylor: "No 
 event would exalt Mr. Clinton higher than 
 a surrender of his pretensions to the presi 
 dent s chair," and pledged the support of 
 Massachusetts for Clinton in 1816. But 
 Clinton s manager, Riker, would make no 
 bargains "inconsistent with pure Republi 
 canism." This correspondence was impru 
 dently published and did much harm to Clin 
 ton s cause. 
 
 (Vm ton received 89 electoral votes against 
 Madison s 128. The Virginia dynasty still 
 held sway. Clinton s independent action 
 divorced him from his party. In JL815 
 Tammany demanded his removal as mayor. 
 The casting vote in the council was with 
 Gov. Tompkins, who had presidential as 
 pirations. He did not wish to offend Clin 
 ton s friends nor did he dare to refuse the de^ 
 mands of Tammany. Clinton was deposed. 
 
 He was now in a deplorable state. He 
 had no business to which he could turn for a 
 
De Witt Clinton 89 
 
 livelihood. His generosity and un-wisdom 
 had deprived him of his ample patrimony 
 and the fortune of his wife. The Tam- 
 manyites seemed finally to have put away 
 their bitter foe forever. Politically he 
 was left alone in that most pitiable state, 
 a man without a party. He was not a 
 Federalist, and the Republicans gladly dis 
 owned him. Such are the vicissitudes of 
 politics. Here stood the man who had 
 taught his party the value of office as 
 nourishment to party brawn, who had served 
 with renown in national and state councils, 
 who had been a formidable candidate for 
 the Presidency, and who almost succeeded 
 in amalgamating the Federal remnants to 
 the progressive elements of the Republican 
 party, who had befriended thousands with 
 office, and elevated hundreds to places of 
 prominence, here he stood alone, deserted, 
 in want. 
 
 Martling s Long Room resounded with the 
 din of merry toasts and the derisive laugh 
 ter of victorious braves; for the very wea 
 pons that Clinton had wielded against Burr 
 twelve years before, now had been thrust into 
 his own heart, and the bitterest foe, the most 
 unrelenting enemy, that Tammany had ever 
 encountered lay dying on the field of battle. 
 
 This defeat was a turning point in the 
 career of Clinton. His preparatory work 
 as a politician was over, his task as a states 
 man began with his overthrow. We will 
 
90 Five American Politicians 
 
 pause here to examine the manner of a man 
 he had developed into, and try to find the 
 sources of his great strength, for DeWitt 
 Clinton was not dead, he was only meta 
 morphosing from the voracious larva of a 
 spoils-hunting politician into the glorious 
 imago of a wise and useful statesman. 
 
 Clinton once wrote to a colleague: "In 
 a political warfare, the defensive side will 
 eventually lose. Energy in a good cause 
 will carry everything. The meekness of 
 Quakerism will do in religion, but not in 
 politics. I repeat it: everything will answer 
 with energy and decision." This was Clin 
 ton s political rule. In his youth he was 
 given to energy, in middle life he added 
 decision, and in the ripeness of years he 
 applied them to a good cause. In his youth 
 he had resorted to all the tricks of the poli 
 tician. There was not a device known to 
 careful vote-getting that he did not employ. 
 He utilized everything in securing majori 
 ties, public office, scholarship, passion, 
 prejudice, appetite, were all made ser- 
 vient to his ambition. As years matured 
 his thought and gave dignity to his bearing, 
 he forgot the tricks of the politician and 
 relied more upon his personal influence. 
 His machine became his personal machine, 
 and his power was personal. He looked 
 after all the details of organization himself. 
 He was ambitious to build up a great party, 
 it should be a Clintonian party, of which 
 
De Witt Clinton 91 
 
 he should be the center of gravity and to 
 which he would attract such atoms as would 
 willingly be drawn by the mystic powers of 
 his personal energy. Such a leader he could 
 become for a state only. Our country has 
 never had a national personal party. The 
 influence of a national issue must unite with 
 a great personality to create a national party. 
 
 Clinton was a fighter. He fought flesh 
 with flesh, blow was given in exchange for 
 blow. And when hit, he struck right back 
 blindly, without taking time to plan. He 
 could fight men, but not parties, and he 
 made all of his battles personal encounters. 
 This added a bitterness to his politics which 
 is hard to understand to-day. Politics were 
 personal with him. He could unmake can 
 didates, but not overthrow conspiracies. 
 
 Clinton never forgave. He was relent 
 less. His temper was terrible in its sudden 
 gusts of passionate wrath. Impatient was 
 he, and proud, disdaining weaklings and 
 scorning the mediocre. His jealousy was 
 all-consuming. In later years his love for 
 adulation became a mania. He could not 
 endure one rival. Physically he was as 
 perfect as an Apollo; mentally he was as 
 analytic as Bacon; in demaenor he was 
 austere as a Roman. In private life he was 
 pure and affectionate. He was absolutely 
 honest. To his followers he kept his troth, 
 to the public he was faithful to the least 
 fraction of a cent. 
 
9 2 Five American Politicians 
 
 .He... was as constructive in his statejmiaijr 
 ship as he was destructive in his political 
 manoeuvre. As mayor he started the Free 
 School*" Association, the forerunner of the 
 public schools-; he was a patron of the arts 
 and sciences, and was devoted with filial 
 affection to the commercial welfare of his 
 city, looking after her harbors, and markets, 
 and streets, and public buildings with greater 
 care than men usually bestow upon their 
 own estates. 
 
 As a member of the legislature, he was in 
 cessant in his activity in behalf of progres 
 sive measures. He introduced bills organ 
 izing the state schools system, the Sailor s 
 Snug Harbor, the City Hospital, the first 
 fire insurance company of New York, the 
 first Academy of Arts and Sciences of New 
 York. Thus also did he charter Astor s 
 American Fur Company, the Humane So 
 ciety, the New York Missionary Society. 
 The range of subjects introduced by him 
 covers the entire field of human endeavor 
 and philanthropy, and a mere enumeration 
 of the titles of his measures would occupy 
 several pages. The tremendous energy of 
 his mind knew no pause. 
 
 I have said that politics with him was 
 a personal matter. He shared with Andrew 
 Jackson that unfortunate self-fatuation that 
 denies to others the right of independent 
 thought. To express sentiments contrary 
 to his own convictions, was to be at enmity 
 
De Witt Clinton 93 
 
 with him. I consider this personal rancor 
 the great weakness of DeWitt Clinton, for 
 had he possessed the gracious demeanor 
 and kindly soul of his rival, Governor 
 Tompkins, he would have been the most 
 formidable American of his day. 
 
 His letters reveal this dismal and repelling 
 quality of soul which blinded his foresight, 
 warped his judgment, and fed his imperious 
 temper. Van Buren is an " arch scoundrel," 
 "the prince of villains," a " confirmed knave." 
 Calhoun is "a thorough-paced blackleg," 
 "base and dishonorable." Crawford is "as 
 hardened a ruffian as Burr." John Quincy 
 Adams, "In politics an apostate, in private 
 life a pedagogue, and everything but amic 
 able and honest." Governor Yates is "per 
 fidious and weak." Wheaton, the writer on 
 International Law, "is a pitiful scoundrel," 
 Rufus King a "declaimer," Judge Thomp 
 son, of the United States Supreme Court, 
 "is one of the domestic circles of President 
 Monroe, and one of the coterie of old women 
 that surround him." But his personalities 
 did not stop with adjectives and expletives. 
 He even stooped to the filth of scandal. 
 "You see what they say about Mrs. M. It 
 is said that Van Buren paid her rent when 
 under distress in this place." Even Puri 
 tanic John Quincy Adams he associated with 
 similar immoralities. For the minor char 
 acters in his political drama, Clinton ex 
 pressed still greater contempt. 
 
94 Five American Politicians 
 
 In spite of his foolish jealousies that en 
 wrapped his mind as a cold and humid fog 
 enshrouds a mountain peak, Clinton towered 
 in stately dignity above the busy politicians 
 who had aimed his destruction. 
 
 Clinton was a devoted lover of nature and 
 had the gift of a true scientific mstinct. 
 He devoted himself to the study, particu 
 larly of those branches of science that were 
 not merely speculative, but were also useful 
 to mankind. The results of his investiga 
 tions he wrote in luminous, though often 
 stilted, English, for the periodicals. And 
 he was greatly in demand as a speaker upon 
 special occasions. 
 
 He had early become interested in the 
 history of the Five Nations and other Indian 
 tribes, then fast vanishing before the aggres 
 siveness of civilization. He discovered a 
 new native variety of wheat, and a new 
 species of fish in the Hudson. He was 
 elected a member of the Linnsean Society 
 of London. He inquired into the utiliza 
 tion of the water power of the streams 
 of his state, the stocking of lakes 
 and ponds with fish. He had been for a 
 number of years the president of the Liter 
 ary and Philosophical Society of New York, 
 was an active member of the Academy of 
 Fine Arts, and of the Historical Society. 
 He was the intimate companion of Dr. Ho- 
 sack, a well known botanist, and of Dr. 
 Mitchell of the Columbia faculty, among the 
 
De Witt Clinton 95 
 
 first zealots of the new science of zoology. 
 Clinton outranked many specialists in the 
 power of observation and research, for he 
 left more permanent contributions to science 
 than most of his professional friends. Had 
 he so chosen, Clinton might have become a 
 great naturalist. 
 
 To all of these interests in science and the 
 utilities of nature, he could devote only such 
 fragments of time as he could snatch from 
 the busy hours of politics and administration. 
 Throughout his public life it was his cus 
 tom to rise very early and dispose of his 
 correspondence before breakfast, reserving 
 the day for business and the evening for 
 pleasure and study. 
 
 He was a man without a party, but he 
 had a cause . The One power that is greater 
 in politics than a machine and a hundred 
 thousand offices, is a cause that appeals to 
 the hearts of voters and to their reason. 
 Clinton had such an issue. It was created 
 by his scientific spirit and was nurtured into 
 maturity by his statecraft. It is one of a 
 rare number of political issues that have 
 found origin in scientific study and favor 
 with the populace. 
 
 A waterway connecting the Hudson with 
 the great lakes had long been one of the 
 dreams of commercial New York. In 1809 
 Clinton was appointed one of a commission 
 to investigate the subject. There was con 
 fusion as to the best route, some preferring 
 
96 Five American Politicians 
 
 the Ontario connection to that of Lake Erie. 
 There was great doubt as to the practi 
 cability of any plan of such magnitude, and 
 the enormous cost of the undertaking stag 
 gered the taxpayer and the legislator. 
 Clinton attacked the problem with all his 
 native energy. His scientific instinct and 
 knowledge of public affairs united in en 
 abling him in giving definite shape to the 
 issue, and his wide reputation gave immedi 
 ate prominence to his plan. 
 
 In 1815 he prepared an exhaustive mem 
 orial detailing the results of the state sur 
 veys; massing the argument in favor of the 
 Erie route; estimating in detail the cost; 
 demonstrating the practicability of the 
 canal; and closing with a fervent patriotic 
 plea for the immediate constructing of a 
 public work that would add so greatly to 
 the prosperity of the state and strengthen 
 the bonds of union with the great west. 
 
 This memorial stands as one of the able 
 state papers of the century. Its argument 
 was so convincing, its spirit was so lofty and 
 non-partisan, that for the moment all oppo 
 sition was breathless. The memorial was 
 first submitted to a meeting of leading busi 
 ness men and politicians in New York city, 
 held in the city hall in the autumn of 1815. 
 It was signed by great numbers of citizens 
 and was sent on a triumphal journey through 
 the state, where it was received with enthu 
 siasm at public meetings, and thus rein- 
 
De Witt Clinton 97 
 
 forced it was presented to the legislature. 
 Clinton went to Albany personally to direct 
 the fortune of his measure. 
 
 In April, 1816, a commission was appoint 
 ed to provide for the improvement of the 
 internal navigation of the state." Clinton 
 was the life of this commission. His learn- 
 - ing arid enthusiasm and practical sense di- 
 rectedits procedure, and he personally con- 
 -dtrcted the members over the 440 miles of 
 the ground to be traversed by the canal. 
 He^\vrote the rerjpjrt^ drafted the law pro 
 viding for the construction of the canal, .and 
 led the contest in the legislature for its 
 passage. This contest was a bitter one. 
 The Tammanyites opposed it to a man, for 
 purely personal reasons. They disapproved 
 everything Clinton espoused. Even after 
 Ms passage through the legislature it met 
 unusual opposition in the Council of Revision. 
 Governor Tompkins was violent in his hos 
 tility. He did not wish to give Clinton the 
 political advantage such a measure would 
 insure. Clinton carefully evolved a scheme 
 for financing the canal. He studied the au 
 thorities on public finance and corresponded 
 with the leading merchants and financiers of 
 his day, both in this country and in Europe. 
 His diary is filled with extracts from au 
 thorities and letters upon the subject, and 
 shows how carefully he worked out the 
 practical details of the law. Clinton con 
 vinced Chancellor Kent and thus saved the 
 
98 Five American Politicians 
 
 measure in the Council of Revision*, This 
 was one of Clinton s greatest victories. 
 
 Governor Tompkins had been ree lec ted, but 
 resigned in 1816 to accept the vice-presidency 
 under Monroe. The people promptly clam 
 ored for Clinton. But the legislative caucus 
 was hostile. In these caucuses only those 
 people were represented that had representa 
 tives in the legislature. Thus the Federalists 
 in a Republican district were never repre 
 sented in a caucus of their party. The Clin- 
 tonians now clamored for a convention in 
 which the Clintonians of every county should 
 be represented, whether they had a member 
 in the legislature or not. The counties that 
 had representatives in the legislature were 
 to be represented by their members. Clin 
 ton was popular in the Federal counties, and 
 his managers knew that he could win the 
 nomination in such a gathering. 
 
 Tammany hurled itself into the campaign 
 with fiendish ardor. They had no issues ex 
 cept Clinton s personality, and his canal. 
 Sarcasm and ridicule were their weapons. 
 
 In the hall of the Literary and Philosoph 
 ical Society were busts and portraits of ce 
 lebrities. In 1819 the bust of Franklin was 
 added. The following dialogue appeared 
 in a Tammany print. 
 
 "Bust of Franklin: 
 Here in good company Rousseau, 
 Great Newton, Buffon, Sully, Daguesseau, 
 
De Witt Clinton 99 
 
 The choicest spirits of the mighty dead. 
 But who is that above our Newton s head? 
 
 "Vice President (Clinton): 
 Tis Dr. Clinton, our state s chief reliance, 
 A paragon of learning, wit and science. 
 Skilled in all arts, the Critchton of our day. 
 
 "Bust: 
 
 * Quick take me down, for here I cannot stay 
 Clinton so grand, Newton so small below ! 
 These portraits by their contrasts strangely 
 
 show 
 
 How little place has science here obtained, 
 4nd how triumphantly imposture reigns. 
 
 Of his "big ditch" they sang: 
 "Oh a ditch he would dig from the lakes to 
 
 the sea, 
 The eighth of the world s matchless wonders 
 
 to be, 
 Good land, how absurd! But why should 
 
 you grin? 
 It will do to bury its mad author in." 
 
 But the triumphant Clintonians, their 
 chief elected by 40,000 votes, over a bare 
 1,500 given to the Martling candidate, 
 shouted gleefully in response: 
 "Witt Clinton is dead, St. Tammany said, 
 And all the pappooses with laughter were 
 
 weeping, 
 
 But Clinton arose and confounded his foes, 
 The cunning old fox had only been sleep 
 ing." 
 
ioo Five American Politicians 
 
 Clinton now had an opportunity to con 
 ciliate Tammany. The landslide had swept 
 away the hostile majorities, and he con 
 trolled the legislature and the Council of Ap 
 pointment. But Clinton could not forgive. 
 He gave a reception at his home for the mem 
 bers of the legislature, but he would not in 
 vite the Tammany members. "The miser 
 able bucktails," he said, "are unfit for such 
 courtesy." His bitterness baptized the 
 Martlings with a new name, and "buck- 
 tails"* they remained long after death had 
 finally taken away the most - stubborn foe 
 they ever encountered. 
 
 The Clintonians had the majorities, but 
 the Bucktails had the leaders. Van Buren, 
 brilliant and full of resource, was more than 
 a match for Clinton, who had forgotten his 
 cunning and tried to rule with a hand of iron. 
 Trip-hammer authority cannot last long in 
 politics. Through lack of a leader, the ma 
 jority had its power wrested from it. Van 
 Buren drove the wedge of partisanship deep 
 er and deeper between the two factions, at 
 tempting thereby to sever Clinton entirely 
 from the body of his party, and let the Buck- 
 tails remain the true democracy. Clinton had 
 shown some favor toward the Federal rem 
 nants, alleging that they were no party, and 
 
 *The regalia of Tammany Hall prescribed that the 
 tail of a deer be worn on the cap. Hence Clinton took 
 his suggestion for the name "Bucktails." 
 
DeWitt Clinton 101 
 
 therein he was right. Van Buren said they 
 were a party, that their fire had not gone 
 out, but was merely in embers, and any 
 man who showed, the least desire to blow 
 upon these embers was not a Republican. 
 
 Clinton was ambitious to amalgamate the 
 Federal and Republican factions into one 
 strong party, a Clintonian party. Van 
 Buren was determined to erhphasize 1 all the 
 differences and split the factions, so thai, 
 he would be the leader* of t the Republican 
 party, and Clinton an "apostate. 
 
 Two charges were spoken against Clinton. 
 First, he was the party. From youth up 
 he had been a dictator, a disburser of pat 
 ronage. He was haughty, cold and respons 
 ive only to praise. Secondly, he was a Fed 
 eralist. Did he not in 1812 bargain with the 
 Federalists for the presidency against a Re 
 publican president? Did he not curry their 
 favor in state and city councils? Had he 
 not even in the past few months appointed 
 some of that tainted company to office? 
 
 Such is the human love for orthodoxy, 
 that the ruse succeeded. Van Buren wrest 
 ed for his minority the control of the legis 
 lature and council from the majority. The 
 "Albany Argus," a Bucktail organ, said: 
 "A majority of the canal commissioners are 
 now politically opposed to the governor, 
 and it will not be necessary for a person who 
 wishes to obtain employment on the canal 
 
IO2 Five American Politicians 
 
 as agent, contractor or otherwise, to avow 
 himself a Clintonian." 
 
 The Bucktails, seeing that the Governor s 
 majorities were drawn by his canal policy, 
 resolved to embarrass him by voting for ex 
 orbitant appropriations, intending to in 
 veigle him into opposing their bill and make 
 it appear that he had abandoned his favorite 
 ^neasuiie.. , But they failed in their purpose. 
 The clectioa of 1819 gave Clintuii once 
 .mere tho control of the Council of Appoint 
 ment, and" the former vigor of the staid old 
 politician seemed to return. Bucktails were 
 removed by the score. Richard Ricker, a 
 popular and efficient recorder, was removed, 
 as was also Van Buren, the attorney general. 
 So wild and delirious was this council, that 
 its action caused comment, even in those 
 days. The partisan spirit of the day is illus 
 trated by the following incident: 
 
 The county of Ulster had not for many 
 years had a member in the Council of Ap 
 pointment. Jacobus S. Bruyn, an inde 
 pendent, high-minded descendant of good 
 Dutch stock was mentioned for the place. 
 One day he met Ambrose Spencer, Clinton s 
 confidential man and manager, who asked 
 Bruyn whether he would follow the route 
 marked out for him, if elected. Bruyn did 
 not even answer this insolent question, but 
 walked away, indignant at the insult. Soon 
 after he met Clinton, who asked : " Sir, will 
 you follow the path we have marked out for 
 
De Witt Clinton 103 
 
 you, if you are elected to the Council?" 
 Bruyn answered that he would make no 
 promises and that, if elected, he should act 
 as he thought proper. "Then/ Clinton ex 
 claimed, " I ll be damned if you should have 
 my vote if I had one." The dauntless 
 Dutchman replied that he would not thank 
 him for his vote, and had not asked it. 
 Ulster County remained without a represen 
 tative in the Council. 
 
 It is a pity so much of mere clay should 
 enter into the compound of so superior a 
 man. 
 
 In 1820 a legislative caucus of Repub 
 licans nominated Senator Tompkins for gov 
 ernor. He was the Bucktail candidate. 
 The Clintonians stayed away from the cau 
 cus and called a convention, which named 
 Clinton. 
 
 Van .Buren, by a .sharp trick;, had drawn 
 the Federalists away from Clinton. He did 
 this by endorsing Rufus King, a Federalist 
 United States Senator, for reelection. He 
 became guilty of the same political sin of 
 which he had so often accused Clinton. 
 Consistency is not a jewel meant to shine 
 in the crown of a political czar. 
 
 Soon after the canvass began, a number of 
 Federalists circulated an address accusing 
 Clinton of personal aggrandizement and fa 
 voritism, and affirming that as " high-mind 
 ed " men they could not support him. This 
 was the harvest of Van Buren s support of 
 
104 Five American Politicians 
 
 Senator King. The "high-minded Feder 
 alists," however, could not entice all their 
 faction into the Bucktail ranks. Clilii2S_ 
 was^ceeloeted, ..but by a majority of only 
 1457 votes. The canal zone saved him. 
 Had the "Governor displayed a conciliatory 
 spirit, and had he been as highly endowed 
 with political sagacity as he was with per 
 sonal prowess, he would probably have been 
 reflected without opposition. But his ar 
 bitrary manner and unbending temper 
 made enemies, bitter and unforgiving, while 
 his utter lack of management disorganized 
 his own following, and made them easy 
 victims. 
 
 While he succeeded in his canvass, every 
 thing else went against him. The legis 
 lature and with it the Council, were in com 
 plete control of his enemies, and his arch 
 foe, Van Buren, was sent to the United 
 States senate. The council made a clean 
 sweep. Its leader, Skinner, was a violent 
 foe of Clinton and played the governor s own 
 game with skill. Every office was vacated, 
 even military commissions were recalled, 
 and the state superintendent of schools was 
 removed. Controller Mclntyre, who had 
 held office fourteen years, although there had 
 been in that interval four Councils hostile 
 to him, was removed. He was a very able 
 and popular official, and his removal caused 
 a sensation. He was immediately elected 
 to the state senate, as a rebuke of this whole- 
 
De Witt Clinton 105 
 
 sale slaughter. It was a clean-cut issue, 
 the people rebuked the politicians. 
 
 Happily for New York, this session of the 
 legislature called a constitutional conven 
 tion, which did away with the notorious 
 Council of Appointment. What a ghastly 
 record this political guillotine had made! 
 Not one prominent politician in the state, 
 but had felt the deep cut of its keen blade; 
 senators, governors, judges, mayors, sher 
 iffs, clerks, justices, militia officers, and 
 school officials all shared alike in the annual 
 carnival of carnage and slaughter. The 
 political headsman was no respecter of 
 persons. The knitting woman was kept 
 busy counting the severed heads, as they 
 rolled from under the drop. Some were 
 resurrected by the miracle of majority, but 
 most of them were left to decay on the 
 ghastly heap where the red-handed spoils 
 man had tossed them. 
 
 The new constitution was radically dem 
 ocratic. In place of a council of review was 
 placed a governor s veto, the bars of franchise 
 were thrown down and everyone allowed to 
 vote, the appointing power was reduced to a 
 few subordinate places and the greatly in 
 creased electorate given free hand in the choice 
 of all officers, petty and great. From one 
 extreme to the other swung the pendulum 
 of public sentiment. The vote adopting 
 the new constitution stood 75,422 to 41,497. 
 The voice of the people did not waver. 
 
106 Five American Politicians 
 
 The Bucktail legislature was insolent in 
 its hostility to Clinton. It had been the 
 custom of the governor to deliver his annual 
 message verbally. The Bucktails " Re 
 solved that the custom of delivering a 
 speech by the executive to the legislature is 
 a remnant of royalty, not recommended by 
 any consideration of public utility, and 
 ought to be abolished." The resolution 
 was not adopted, but it reveals the petty 
 spirit of the house. 
 
 The national administration, hostile to 
 Clinton, filled the New York custom house 
 with Bucktails, and in the last election, the 
 government appointees had displayed a 
 partisan activity that was more than per 
 nicious. The federal office-holders had 
 marched the employees of the Navy Yard 
 to the polls, to the music of bands and 
 under banners floating Bucktail slogans. 
 The husky sailors and workmen were not 
 content to deposit their own vote merely, but 
 bullied and threatened all comers until the 
 election was turned into a general riot. Clin 
 ton, always willing to use office-holders for 
 his own benefit, was angered by this display 
 of force, and sent a message to the legislature 
 asking an investigation. The message was so 
 voluminous that it was conveyed to the 
 chambers in a green bag, and was there 
 fore called the " Green Bag Message." The 
 legislature referred it to a joint committee, 
 which rebuked the governor severely for 
 
De Witt Clinton 107 
 
 his presumption, and alleged that federal in 
 terference had never been observed in any 
 state elections. This was from the Buck- 
 tail viewpoint. 
 
 At the end of his second term, Clinton was 
 again without a party. The strongest man 
 in public life in his state, he was yet the 
 weakest man in New York politics. He 
 had entered the governor s office prac 
 tically without opposition, in four years his 
 friends advised him that to be a candidate 
 again would be futile. He was to be let 
 down from the heights of power as quietly 
 and gracefully as possible. A mass meeting 
 was held; he was eulogized, and a commit 
 tee appointed to ask him to run again. As 
 had been prearranged, he refused, and ap 
 peared to retire voluntarily to private life. 
 
 The dearest object of his heart, the crea- 
 tioiToF a~p^s^mlil"pai^^ to 
 
 a man of nis strength anaweakness." For in 
 ere r ^bTencted the elements of strength, 
 honesty, courage, learning; and the ele 
 ments of weakness, vanity, arbitrariness 
 and intolerance. The strength of his char 
 acter was not such as to draw the politician, 
 and his weaknesses were such as repelled 
 those who could have built for him a party. 
 A party cannot exist without a manager, 
 a manipulator. Clinton was too great a 
 man to spend his time in mere manipulation, 
 and too proud a man to be manipulated. 
 
 The Bucktails had elected governor and 
 
io8 Five American Politicians 
 
 legislature, carried city and state. For a 
 second time they had completely over 
 thrown their arch enemy. Surely now he 
 was vanquished forever. In the delirium of 
 their joy they resurrected their fallen foe. 
 The only office that now remained to him 
 was that of canal commissioner, an office 
 with great tasks and no pay. At the last 
 day of the session of 1824, almost at the last 
 hour, the senate passed a resolution depos 
 ing DeWitt Clinton from this office. There 
 were only three votes recorded against the 
 motion. The resolution was rushed into 
 the house and startled the astonished mem 
 bers out of their senses. A whirlwind of par 
 tisan frenzy swept a majority of almost two- 
 thirds into line, and for the first time since 
 1797, DeWitt Clinton was without office. 
 
 In the house only one voice was raised 
 against the removal, but it- was the voice of 
 prophecy, and its utterance was the senti 
 ment of the people. Cunningham, of Mont 
 gomery county, an uneducated man, but a 
 strong character whose heart nature had 
 warmed with love, and whose tongue had 
 been touched with the gift of eloquence, 
 made an impassioned and noble plea: 
 
 " I dare assert in my place that his doings 
 as a canal commissioner are unimpeached 
 and unimpeachable, and such as have even 
 elicited the plaudits and admiration of his 
 political enemies. This, then, is the official 
 character of the man whom we now seek to 
 
De Witt Clinton 109 
 
 destroy. * * * I am well aware that 
 some honorable gentlemen may think, if 
 they vote against this resolution, they will 
 be suspected in their politics. Such con 
 sideration ought not to influence us on this 
 subject. Mr. Clinton is not in the political 
 market, he reposes in the shades of honor 
 able retirement, he asks for no office and 
 possesses none but the one of which he is 
 about to be stripped. 
 
 "The senate, it appears, has been actu 
 ated by some cruel and malignant passion 
 unaccounted for, and have made a rush 
 upon this house and have taken us on sur 
 prise. The resolution may pass, but if it 
 does, my word for it, we are disgraced in the 
 judgment and good sense of an injured and 
 intelligent community. Whatever the fate 
 of this resolution may be, let it be remem 
 bered that Mr. Clinton has acquired a rep 
 utation not to be destroyed by the pitiful 
 malice of a few leading partisans of the day. 
 
 "When the contemptible party strife of 
 the present day shall have passed by, and 
 the political bargainers and jugglers, who 
 now hang around this capitol for a subsist 
 ence, shall be overwhelmed and forgotten 
 in their own insignificance, when the gentle 
 breeze shall pass over the tomb of that great 
 man, carrying with it the just tribute of 
 honor and praise which is now withheld, the 
 pen of the future historian, in better days 
 and in better times, will do him justice and 
 
no Five American Politicians 
 
 erect to his memory a proud monument of 
 fame, as imperishable as the splendid works 
 which owe their origin to his genius and per 
 severance." 
 
 The effect upon the people of the removal 
 of their favorite hero was like an electric 
 shock. Their response was as sudden and 
 lurid and destructive of the legislators as 
 a bolt of lightning. 
 
 The people of Albany rushed at once to 
 the capitol in great throngs, and expressed 
 their contempt for the act and their sym 
 pathy with Clinton. Their resolutions were 
 sincere : 
 
 "Resolved, That we have sought in vain 
 for any palliating circumstances to mitigate 
 this most glaring outrage, and that we can 
 only regard it as the offspring of that malig 
 nant and insatiable spirit of political pro 
 scription which has already so deeply stained 
 the annals of our state. 
 
 "Resolved, That the perpetrators of this 
 act of violence and ingratitude are utterly 
 unworthy of public confidence and justly 
 deserve the reprobation of an injured and 
 insulted community. 
 
 "Resolved, That for the boldness with 
 which he planned, the patriotic devotion 
 with which he undertook, and the high and 
 commanding talents and unremitted ardor 
 with which he has successfully prosecuted 
 a scheme of internal improvement, surpass 
 ing in magnitude all that had ever been 
 
DeWltt Clinton in. 
 
 conceived on this side of the Atlantic, and 
 no less useful than it is grand, this dis 
 tinguished citizen is entitled to the admira 
 tion, gratitude and the applause of his 
 country, and especially the state of New 
 York. 7 
 
 These resolutions were conveyed to Clin 
 ton by a notable committee of citizens. 
 The citizens in New York city took a similar 
 course to express their disapproval of their 
 legislature. The entire state was aroused. 
 The Bucktails had miscalculated. Instead 
 of differentiating the Clintonians from the 
 newly organized People s Party, their rash 
 action amalgamated sentiment and brought 
 Clinton forward by universal demand as the 
 candidate for governor. 
 
 The People s Party had been organized in 
 1823 as an anti-caucus, anti-Crawford party. 
 A convention was held at Utica in Septem 
 ber, 1824. It was the first state convention 
 composed entirely of delegates chosen for 
 that purpose. No members of the legisla 
 ture were ex-officio delegates. There were 
 122 delegates. The proceedings were novel 
 and compared with present day conven 
 tions, crude and simple. " The first day was 
 spent in organizing and in ascertaining each 
 other s opinions and views." To-day these 
 are ascertained before the delegates are ap 
 pointed. In the Utica convention this ex 
 change of opinions was free and on the 
 floor of the convention. To-day the utter- 
 
ii2 Five American Politicians 
 
 ances of opinions as to candidates are 
 guarded and are expressed only in the inner 
 chambers of headquarters. There was some 
 opposition to Clinton, and the NeVv York 
 city delegation withdrew from the conven 
 tion and named General Young as their can 
 didate. 
 
 Clinton s majority at the polls was 16,906. 
 Of the eight senatorial districts, he carried 
 six. Two years before all had gone against 
 him. But again Clinton failed to hold his 
 following together. Van Buren had formed 
 his " Albany Regency/ a band of shrewd 
 and designing politicians, and they began 
 at once to undermine Clinton s strongholds. 
 The governor s party in the legislature was 
 composed of good men, honest enough, but 
 totally devoid of political sagacity. Clinton 
 himself would listen to no advice. He said 
 he would "rather reign in hell than serve in 
 heaven!" His majorities were dashed to 
 fragments on the rocks of his stubborn will 
 fulness. John Quincy Adams, newly elected 
 President, offered him the ambassadorship 
 to Great Britain, but Clinton refused to 
 accept. In this he made a mistake. He 
 was harboring ambitions to become Presi 
 dent. This appointment would have given 
 him a national character and removed him 
 for a time from the personal antagonists in 
 his native state. His influential friends 
 urged him to accept, but the petty men who 
 depended upon his remaining, flattered him 
 
De Witt Clinton 
 
 into the refusal by intimating that Adams 
 was jealous of his growing power and wished 
 to banish him and thus remove a rival. 
 
 In 1827 at a mass meeting in Steuben- 
 ville, Ohio, Clinton was nominated for the 
 Presidency and Jackson for Vice-President. 
 A committee was appointed to formulate 
 an address to the people and to correspond 
 with other states. This was a common 
 method of starting a presidential boom in 
 those years. Clinton believed that in case 
 of a deadlock in the election, he could be 
 chosen. He disliked Monroe because he was 
 a member of the Virginia dynasty. He mis 
 trusted Adams because he believed he had 
 bought the Presidency by bargaining with 
 Clay. When he became convinced that he 
 could not himself become President, he fa 
 vored Jackson, and hoped to become Vice- 
 President. 
 
 The year 1825 was one of triumph and 
 glory for the veteran statesman. He visited 
 Ohio, Kentucky, and Pennsylvania, and was 
 everywhere received with respect and en 
 thusiasm as the "Dean of Internal Im 
 provements." And this year witnessed the 
 completion of his greatest achievement, the 
 Erie Canal. From Buffalo to New York 
 city he traveled by boat in triumph, re 
 ceiving the congratulations and plaudits of 
 the populace. The merchants of New York 
 city presented him with a costly pair of 
 silver vases in commemoration of the event, 
 
ii4 Five American Politicians 
 
 and from every city in the Union came 
 congratulatory messages. The history of 
 this great canal has fully justified all that 
 its wise projector had claimed for it. In 
 his message to the legislature in 1827 he an 
 nounced the final completion of all the details 
 of the canal. The amount of the tolls for the 
 preceding year had been $770,000, nearly 
 twice the amount of the interest on the debt. 
 While thus the outer aspect of Clinton s 
 career was bright, there lurked within the 
 deepening shadows of political discontent. 
 The Albany Regency was conducting a 
 secret and effective campaign against him. 
 In 1826 he was unanimously renominated 
 in Utica, and Henry Huntington, a banker 
 of prominence and worth, for lieutenant 
 governor. Despite a promise to support 
 him, the Regency party held a convention 
 at Herkimer, thus recognizing and estab 
 lishing as good form that method of nomi 
 nating candidates, and named Judge Ro 
 chester for governor and Nathaniel Pitcher 
 for lieutenant governor. Rochester was a 
 weak man, Pitcher a very able man. This 
 was a trick of Van Buren to secure New 
 York for Jackson, by indirectly supporting 
 Clinton, and to save the legislature for Van 
 Buren by electing a strong lieutenant gov 
 ernor. Clinton was elected, having been 
 supported in secret by Van Buren. His 
 majority was 3,650. Pitcher was also electr 
 ed by a majority of 4,188. 
 
De Witt Clinton 115 
 
 This was his final triumph at the polls. 
 With the advent of Jackson in national poli 
 tics, Clinton s prospects for promotion were 
 bright, for Jackson ardently admired his 
 talents. A seat in the cabinet, the vice- 
 presidency, and the executive chair seemed 
 within his reach. But it was not to be. 
 A promotion more enduring than that cre 
 ated by ambition or insured by a partisan 
 victory secured for him a lasting place among 
 the noted names of his country. He died 
 in the midst of the activities of public office, 
 when the greatest of his works was stream 
 ing commercial prosperity through the heart 
 of his native state, when his fame was as 
 extended as the causes he encouraged, and 
 his name was spoken with honor in every 
 commonwealth and known in every progres 
 sive city of the globe. 
 
 On February 11, 1828, just as he had 
 finished writing in his diary and was reading 
 the afternoon mail, death stilled the heart 
 that had sustained so valiant a fighter, and 
 forever sealed the mind that had planned 
 so wisely for his fellowmen. His friend, 
 Dr. Hosack, had warned him of the danger 
 of his malady some weeks before his death. 
 He simply replied: "I am not afraid to 
 die." 
 
 He was among the last of the politicians 
 who had aided in the formation of the first 
 political parties of our country, and as re 
 gards the practical effects on politics, was 
 
 
n6 Five American Politicians 
 
 the most potent. In his manipulation of 
 the Council of Appointment he planted the 
 se_edlmg_oi_the Upas tree of American poli 
 tics, thespQJlfi ftystpm ; through his antago 
 nism "of the Virginia dynasty and the 
 Tammany machine, he demolished, .the 
 methods of caucus control and inaugurated 
 the convention plan; through his genius 
 he evolved an issue and taught liis contem 
 poraries the superiority of character over 
 trickery. 
 
 His career was one of anomalies, of para 
 doxes. In the beginning he was the most 
 clever of manipulators; in the end he had 
 utterly forgotten the art of intrigue. The 
 boy politician grew into the statesman. A 
 strategist for his uncle, he could not devise 
 for himself. Ambitious for political power, 
 he was stone blind to the strength of his 
 foe?. His victories were the sources of his 
 weakness. 
 
 "Respected by all the people, yet he could 
 not draw to him the politicians of his party. 
 He was never defeated for an elective office, 
 except for the Presidency in 1812. But the 
 political leaders avoided him. Even those 
 of his own making finally forsook their cre 
 ator. He chose Morgan Lewis, and made 
 him governor over Aaron Burr. Lewis 
 abandoned him, joined the Livingstones and 
 intrigued to destroy his maker. Out of ob 
 scurity he lifted Daniel Tompkins, schooled 
 him in the rudiments of politics, and started 
 
De Witt Clinton 117 
 
 him on the highway to national eminence. 
 And Tompkins turned against him all his 
 remarkable native powers and sought to 
 slay his master. He discovered Tennis 
 Wortman and made him a local leader of 
 celebrity. And Wortman joined Tammany 
 to lead their unscrupulous assaults against 
 his benefactor. When Martin Van Buren 
 first entered the legislature, he immediately 
 took up the fight for Clinton. Before the 
 year ended an estrangement began that was 
 never healed. Singular paradox ! The man 
 whose character was the object of popular 
 reverence could not win one lasting political 
 leader of first rank. 
 
 He was the victim of the very arts he 
 pxafiiic : e,d.Qa his foes. He accused the Burr- 
 ites with favoring the Federalists. They 
 hurled the charge back in 1812. He dis- 
 comfitted Governor Jay by using a hostile 
 Council of Appointment. Van Buren served 
 him a similar trick. He claimed to be the 
 Republican party. His opponents stole his 
 title. He organized a convention when he 
 could not control a caucus. His foes bolted 
 his convention and organized one of their own. 
 
 In Clinton s soul was fought the struggle 
 between politician and statesman, between 
 patriot and partisan, between scholar and 
 boss. In him was embodied the mighty 
 struggle between idealism and realism, which 
 is to-day the paramount problem of Amer 
 ican politics. 
 
n8 Five American Politicians 
 
 He made a great governor. Even without 
 his canal policy the multitude of beneficial 
 measures he inaugurated would have main 
 tained him at the head of the long list of 
 the Empire State s great executives. Sci 
 ence, commerce, and philanthropy were the 
 objects of his solicitude and the prote ge s 
 of his genius. A study of his contributions 
 to the laws of New York and to the official 
 iterature of the state is a liberal. education 
 in statecraft. And a "better administrator 
 of the laws never wielded executive power. 
 Devoted throughout his life to the services 
 of his commonwealth, he died a statesman 
 "e~fltttional fame. Very few men have had 
 the singular genius thus to : rige"tcrilatiohal 
 eminence upon purely local issues. 
 
 Nor is there, unfortunately, any doubt of 
 the pettiness of his personal encounters. 
 So much of the bitter of jealously blended 
 with the sweet of his talents; so many 
 shadows were flung by his arrogance across 
 the light of his genius, that the admiration 
 of the multitude is almost lost in the per 
 sonal hatred of his opponents. He was a 
 man to be respected, not loved; to be an 
 tagonized, not opposed. And hated was he 
 with a partisan frenzy that did not cease 
 even after his lifeless form had been carried 
 to the tomb. 
 
 He left a very small estate, for in serving 
 the state he had neglected his fortune. Nor 
 did it ever enter his mind to profit by the 
 
De Witt Clinton 119 
 
 speculations his canal policy made pos 
 sible. For twenty years he had acted as a 
 canal commissioner witEout pay. A bill was 
 introduced into the legislature authorizing 
 the payment to his children of a sum of 
 money equal to the amount of the salary 
 of a canal commissioner during the time of 
 his service and one year s salary as governor 
 of the state. This was just and generous. 
 But the rage of personal enmity defeated 
 the measure. After a disgraceful contro 
 versy the sum of $10,000 was finally voted. 
 Eleven years later Governor Seward in 
 his message to the legislature, after a glow 
 ing tribute to DeWitt Cilnton, recom 
 mended "that the ashes of that illustrious 
 citizen be deposited underneath a monu 
 ment to be erected in this city." But a 
 decade had not wiped out the prejudices of 
 a lifetime. The monument was not erected. 
 This was the last public insult that Tam 
 many offered the memory of her most val 
 iant foe. 
 
MARTIN VAN BUREN 
 
 NATIONALIZED OF THE MACHINE 
 
MARTIN VAN BUREN 
 NATIONALIZER OF THE MACHINE 
 
 IN 1816 there were 123 members in the 
 New York Assembly; 61 were Federal 
 ists and 61 were Republicans or Demo 
 crats, and the final place was contested 
 between Henry Fellows, a Federalist, and 
 Peter Allen, a Republican, both from On 
 tario County. In the town of Pennington 
 49 votes had been cast for Henry Fellows. 
 These votes gave him a majority of thirty 
 in his county. The inspectors of .elections 
 in Pennington filed a copy of his certificate, 
 properly written as Henry Fellows. But 
 the duplicate which they filed with the 
 county clerk read, "Hen. Fellows." The 
 county clerk rejected the votes and thus 
 gave Allen a majority of 19. Both con 
 testants went to Albany. For a week the 
 chamber was a scene of disgraceful wran 
 gling. The Republicans allowed Allen to 
 vote during the organization of the house. 
 Thus they could elect a speaker j and a 
 Council of Appointment. After these places 
 of advantage had been secured for them, 
 they seated the Federalist, Fellows. 
 
 New York was at this time divided into 
 four senatorial districts. In 1817 two sena- 
 
124 Five American Politicians 
 
 tors were to be chosen from the western 
 district, one to fill a vacancy and the other 
 for a full term of four vears. The two can 
 didates were Dr. Jediah Prendergast, a 
 Clintonian, for the long term, and Isaac 
 Wilson, a Bucktail, for the short term. 
 The law insisted, .however, that the candi 
 date having the largest number of votes 
 should be declared elected for the long term. 
 Wilson received 1509 votes, Jediah Pren- 
 dergast 1485 votes, Jedediah Prendergast 
 91 and Jed. Prendergast 10. Wilson was 
 given the certificate of election for the four 
 year term. But 42 electors were found who 
 swore that they voted for Jedediah, intend 
 ing to vote for Jediah. This would give 
 the Doctor the long term. There could be 
 no doubt as to the fairness of this course, 
 but the Bucktails were determined to have 
 their man. Colonel Young, the Bucktail 
 champion, carried his Bible into the senate 
 chamber and quoted passages where both 
 names, Jediah and Jedediah, were found. 
 "Would the Bucktails rebel against revela 
 tion?" 
 
 In 1818 the term of the two senators from 
 the middle district expired. This was a 
 Clintonian district. Ross, of Orange County, 
 a staunch Clintonian, was a candidate for re 
 election. There was a dispute between Otsego 
 and Greene Counties as to which should 
 name the second candidate. Otsego s candi 
 date was Arumah Metcalf, a Clintonian. 
 
Martin Van Buren 125 
 
 Greene County put forward Moses Austin, 
 a Bucktail. The counties left the dispute 
 to a caucus of the members of the legislature 
 from that district for decision. This caucus 
 was Clintonian. The Bucktails knew that 
 the friends of Ross were fearful that if they 
 favored Otsego the other counties would 
 combine against Ross and defeat him. This 
 fear was the wedge which the Bucktails used 
 in splitting the ranks of the Clintonians, and 
 they succeeded. Instead of two Clintonian 
 senators, only one went from the middle dis 
 trict. 
 
 In 1819, 42 Bucktails and 49 Clintonians 
 were elected to the house. The Bucktails 
 were secretly advised to appear in Albany 
 at a caucus to be held on the evening before 
 the session was to open. All the Bucktails 
 were present, while fifteen of the unsuspect 
 ing Clintonians were absent. The Buck- 
 tails candidate for speaker, Thompson, an 
 ardent Clinton hater, was nominated. There 
 upon the Clintonians withdrew from the 
 caucus and named German, who was sub 
 sequently elected by the aid of the few Fed 
 eralists in the house. This is what the 
 Bucktails worked for. They desired to make 
 the Clintonians appear as bolters and apos 
 tates and they would then be the regulars. 
 
 In 1821 the instigator of all of these petty 
 plans, the boss of the Bucktails, the czar of 
 the Regency, was elected United States 
 senator, and Martin Van Buren transferred 
 
126 Five American Politicians 
 
 the activities of his political intriguing from 
 the narrow field of New York politics to the 
 broad field of national politics; he widened 
 the horizon of his ambition and began the 
 careful campaign that in fifteen years placed 
 him at the head of the first compact national 
 political organization and made him Presi 
 dent. 
 
 Van Buren was born in 1782 in Kinder- 
 hook-on-the-Hudson. His parents were of 
 Dutch descent, the father an easy-going, 
 shiftless tavern-keeper, the mother an in 
 dustrious, thrifty, noble woman. His school 
 education was brief, he quitted the village 
 master when fourteen years old. But his 
 mother trained him in thrift and the tavern 
 offered him, even in childhood, opportunity 
 for mixing with men, learning their weak 
 nesses and their strength, together with 
 their names and their predilections. It was 
 this schooling that he received at home, 
 more than the schooling of books and rules, 
 that opened for him the pathway to emi 
 nence, for Van Buren was above all things 
 thrifty, and he knew, beyond all others, 
 how to mingle with men and gain their con 
 fidence. 
 
 At the age of fourteen he entered a law office 
 and began his seven years apprenticeship in 
 the law. The last of these years he passed 
 in New York city in the office of William P. 
 Van Ness, the confidant and lieutenant of 
 Aaron Burr. The impress of this year, 
 
Martin Van Buren 127 
 
 formed of associations with the greatest po 
 litical plotter of his day and his most trusted 
 aide, was never effaced from his life. His 
 whole political career is flavored with Aaron 
 Burr. 
 
 Van Buren was not a great lawyer, but he 
 was a very successful one. His ability en 
 abled him to make money, his thrift en 
 abled him to save it. In twenty years he 
 was possessed of a fortune valued at $200,000, 
 a large sum for that day. Lawsuits 
 flourished in profusion among the patroons 
 and burghers in the Hudson Valley. Dam 
 age cases and title contests abounded in 
 amazing frequency. Van Buren was re 
 sourceful, ingenious and crafty; he was 
 well read, fluent and versatile ; he was above 
 all painstaking and industrious, homety 
 virtues rarely found where cunning and 
 brilliancy abound. These qualities won him 
 early fame at the bar, attracted to his of 
 fice a rich clientele, and saved for him the 
 fortune that became his mainstay in poli 
 tics, and enabled him to spend his declining 
 years in comfort and dignified ease. 
 
 But it was not as a lawyer that Van Buren 
 chose to shine. Circumstances drew him 
 into politics, nature impelled him to remain. 
 For his natural endowments were those of 
 a preeminent politician. He possessed an 
 abiding good temper, which never was 
 known to become either sharp or dull. His 
 natural amiability never allowed the smile 
 
128 Five American Politicians 
 
 to fade from his lips, or the glad hand to be 
 removed into his pockets. He was skilled 
 in intrigue and could plan successful cam 
 paigns, whether for township, or state, or 
 I national elections. He was kind-hearted, 
 \ and men could not hate him, though prob- 
 s ably few really loved him. He was never 
 outspoken on any subject until the majority 
 had expressed an opinion. And finally he 
 had a memory for names that never failed 
 him. He could travel the country over and 
 shake hands with more people, mentioning 
 their names, and often the names of their 
 families, than any other man of his day. 
 This is superlatively the politician s strong 
 hold among the masses: to shake a man s 
 hand, call him familiarly by name, smil 
 ingly ask after the welfare of wife and fam 
 ily. This trick of memory and design is 
 quite as potent in American politics as is 
 sues, or money, or both. 
 
 Before he was old enough to vote. Van 
 Buren was a committeeman, and active in 
 the Republican factions of Columbia county. 
 When he was only 26, the Council of Ap 
 pointment made him surrogate. Five years 
 later, in 1813, he became state senator. 
 This was a real triumph of popularity, be 
 cause his county was a Federal stronghold. 
 In 1816 Van Buren moved to Albany. In 
 the capitol he could better centralize his po 
 litical machine and find a larger field for his 
 profession. He was made attorney general 
 
Martin Van Bur en 129 
 
 in 1815, and in 1821 became United States 
 senator. 
 
 The very year of his entrance into state 
 politics he became a leader. Soon after his 
 advent in Albany, he forsook the Clinton- 
 ians and joined the Bucktails, and in a few 
 years he had perfected a compact, central 
 ized and obedient party. This party he 
 controlled through the medium of a ring, 
 composed of his most intimate political 
 friends, and the principal office holders at Al 
 bany. This group of politicians was called 
 the "Albany Regency/ and it became the 
 first political ring to wield a sustained power 
 over New York State politics. The "Reg 
 ency" controlled patronage, created gover 
 nors and senators, shaped campaigns, made 
 and unmade local leaders, established news 
 papers, and, after the death of its great ene 
 my, DeWitt Clinton, ruled the state with 
 the absolutism of a czar, until the advent 
 of the slavery issue obliterated party lines 
 and dethroned the "Regents." 
 
 The "Regency" had lieutenants in every 
 county and captains in every town. Its 
 trusted agents kept the leaders constantly 
 informed of the political situation in every 
 locality at all times. So well disciplined 
 was this guard that a word from Van Buren 
 was a command obeyed without question or 
 hesitation. This organization was sus 
 tained by the local and federal patronage 
 of the state. 
 
13 Five American Politicians 
 
 Van Buren was the creator and command 
 er of this political combination. He did for 
 the state what Burr did for the city. When 
 he became supreme in New York he looked 
 toward Washington for greater fields of con 
 quest. To the senate he carried so rare a 
 skill in maneuvre, perfected by experience, 
 that at once he was recognized as the polit 
 ical prince of the nation s capitol. 
 
 When he entered Washington there was 
 but one national party; or, more accu 
 rately, there was no national party. Fed 
 eralism had been little more than a sentiment 
 dwelling in the minds of the nationalist, 
 but it had never had a national party organ 
 ization, as we now use that term. Jeffer- 
 sonianism had been a counter-sentiment 
 dwelling in the hearts of the decentraliza- 
 tionist, and it had never known compact po 
 litical discipline. It was the function of the 
 first half century of our history to centralize 
 these sentiments into substance, to give pol 
 icy an embodiment of party, to endow the 
 spirit with flesh and with bones. After the 
 war of 1812, Federalism was merely a name 
 and Republicanism or Democracy a ram 
 pant term, characterizing all degrees of faith, 
 and all manner of issues. The era of good 
 feeling, under Monroe, was but a fatuation. 
 The hope expressed by Jefferson and DeWitt 
 Clinton and John Adams, and Andrew Jack 
 son, and all prominent political personages, 
 that party walls should be forever razed, and 
 
Martin Van Bur en 
 
 the people of the republic dwell together in a 
 union of sentiment as well as in a union of 
 states, was a vision seen only by dreamers, 
 and possible only in an undiscovered Utopia. 
 For while Federalism and anti-Federalism 
 seemed merged for the moment in the 
 abounding feeling of fraternity and in the 
 unexampled prosperity that succeeded the 
 second peace with England, they contained 
 the germs of two political philosophies so 
 diverse that permanent blending was im 
 possible. To the feeling of nationalism and 
 of sectionalism, to the faith of broad con 
 struction and of loose construction, to the 
 aspirations of classes and of masses, there 
 came a tangible reality that evolved out of 
 theory a practical aspect which must find ex 
 pression at the polls, and alas ! on the field of 
 battle. The struggle at the polls was to be 
 fought by non-uniformed armies, as disci 
 plined and enthusiastic as the armies that, 
 in blue and in gray, fought to its bloody 
 sequel the question of the preeminence of 
 state or nation. These battles of the bal 
 lots were fought with rancor and with zeal, by 
 partisans who were marshalled into line by 
 political generals, and rallied to the charge, 
 led on by hope of plunder. Fate chose Mar 
 tin Van Buren to be the first general to or- / 
 ganize and command the first compact na 
 tional political organization. 
 
 The time was propitious. The aristoc 
 racy that had so long controlled the offices 
 
132 Five American Politicians 
 
 of state and nation was on the wane. A 
 great influx of immigration had repeopled 
 our cities, and filled the valley of the upper 
 Mississippi with a pioneer population. The 
 artisan of the city, the yeoman of the coun 
 try, the woodsman of the forest, was clam 
 oring for franchise and power. About the 
 year 1820 a reaction set in against the dy 
 nasty of Virginia, the family aristocracy of 
 New York, the oligarchy of New England, 
 and the manorial rulers of the south. The 
 franchise restrictions of the old states were 
 swept aside by new constitutions, appoint 
 ive offices were made elective, qualifications 
 for office were lowered; the spirit of democ 
 racy moved over the troubled waters of 
 American politics. 
 
 The era of good feeling came to an abrupt 
 close in 1824. Who should be Monroe s 
 successor? There were no issues. There 
 were personalities. John Quincy Adams, 
 erudite, puritanic, better trained for the 
 place than was any other American who had 
 ever received the vote of the people, was 
 elected president bj T the House of Repre 
 sentatives after a fierce contest of ill feeling, 
 which had completely obliterated all traces 
 of the good feeling that had preceded. Clay 
 was the real victim of this campaign, for 
 the cry of "bargain and corruption" fol 
 lowed him to his tomb, and prevented the 
 realization of his highest hope. Jackson, 
 Stung* by defeat, was only spurred to re- 
 
Martin Van Bur en 133 
 
 doubled energy. He had received more 
 votes than any other candidate, and was 
 therefore the people s choice. This was his 
 plea, and it was the argument of a true dem 
 ocrat. Crawford, the fourth man in that 
 memorable contest, was incapacitated for 
 service by disease. 
 
 The wounds of this fight were never 
 healed. The great personalities that led in 
 the campaign were made the rallying points 
 of definite issues, and in the travail of this 
 bitter struggle were brought forth the em 
 bryonic forces which, within one short pres 
 idential term, were organized into our first 
 national parties. 
 
 This was Van Buren s time. He met the 
 opportunity with an adroitness, a foresight, 
 that is astounding. He laid the plans for 
 his own advancement so carefully and wove 
 them into the tissue of his party with such 
 skill that he stands isolated among Ameri 
 can politicians for his prescience and pa 
 tience. 
 
 In the first place, Van Buren measured 
 the power of the populace. He knew that 
 the restless spirit of democracy would burst 
 the bonds of conventionalism and sweep the 
 stilted remnants of English custom and 
 tradition from the capitol. He heard the 
 first faint murmur of the westerners asking 
 for place, impatient of the domination of 
 the coast states. He knew this would be an 
 ever-rising murmur until the clamor there- 
 
134 Five American Politicians 
 
 of would roll from the Mississippi Valley to 
 the Appalachians, and fill the land with its 
 resounding demands. He led in the trium 
 phant shout that proclaimed the entrance 
 of Andrew Jackson into power, the first real 
 democrat, and the greatest autocrat. 
 
 He knew, in the second place, that this free 
 spirit of the frontier must have a candidate, 
 an idol, who must be its incarnation. The 
 candidate must be a personage within whose 
 personality could abide all the virtues of 
 democracy, and all its foibles; hatred of 
 form, disregard for tradition, adoration for 
 decentralization, passion for socializing gov 
 ernment, worship of laissez faire. The can 
 didate must also be picturesque, for the 
 spirit of the great people is imaginative, 
 rather than practical; the unusual appeals 
 to it. The candidate must be a hero. The 
 commonplace of statesmanship, of daily 
 administrative routine, does not touch the 
 love or the hatred of the masses. Daily 
 duty cannot call to them with inviting 
 accents, but the voice of heroic action se 
 cures immediate response. And this hero 
 must be a martyr. The people, like a love 
 lorn maid, love to pour out their sympathy 
 over the victim of a political plot. The 
 Hero of New Orleans was the personage who 
 possessed in rich degree all these qualifica 
 tions. He was picturesque, the embodi 
 ment of the frontier spirit; he was brave, 
 the victor over Indians and English ; he was 
 
Martin Van Buren 135 
 
 a martyr, the victim of Calhoun s jealousy 
 and Clay s coalition. 
 
 And, in the third place, Van Buren knew the 
 value of the spoils system as the cement to 
 hold together the structure of his party. He 
 had been schooled in the arts of Burr, and 
 had grown skilled in the management of 
 the Regency and the caucus. He was a mas 
 ter in the science of office distribution. 
 
 His entrance into national politics, I have 
 said,was at an opportune time for the display 
 of his singular talents. In the great struggle 
 for the presidency, of 1824, he espoused 
 the cause of Crawford, a citizen of Georgia, 
 a politician of great skill, and a statesman of 
 no mean experience. In thus taking the part 
 of Crawford, Van Buren saw he would not 
 jeopardize his influence with Clay nor his 
 friendship with Jackson. For it was apparent 
 from the outset that Crawford could not 
 reach the White House. There was a strong 
 sentiment in New York for Adams, in 1824. 
 The Regency had no use for the Puritan, 
 because he would not make use of the Reg 
 ency. He was not a spoilsman. 
 
 The congressional caucus, now utterly 
 discredited by those who could not control it, 
 nominated Crawford. Out of 261 mem 
 bers of Congress, only 66 attended, and of 
 these 62 voted for Crawford. So utterly 
 was the ring under the domination of the 
 boss, that the people contemptuously re 
 jected its candidate. 
 
136 Five American Politicians 
 
 Van Buren began in 1825 to plan for the 
 election of Jackson. He knew that to in 
 troduce Jackson sentiment too early in New 
 York would be fatal to the cause. All ef 
 fusiveness for the hero was stilled. No one 
 nominee was publicly espoused. All were 
 to be encouraged until the day for the pro- 
 nunciamento should arrive, then the Reg 
 ency was to marshal! the hosts of the com 
 mon people, Van Vuren was to wave his 
 plumed helmet over his head, and become 
 the Navarre of the masses. 
 
 Jackson had written a letter to Monroe, 
 in the days of fellowship, saying that since 
 there was no longer any difference between 
 Federalists and Republicans, all appoint 
 ments should be made on merit alone. This 
 inclined the Federal remnants toward the 
 Hero. Little did they foresee how the taste 
 of power would transform this gentle spirit 
 of non-partisanship into a violent political 
 temper. 
 
 In 1827 Van Buren was reflected to the 
 United States senate. The Clintonians tried 
 to defeat him and elect a friend of Adams. 
 But the Regency showed that their adroit 
 and oily boss " has not counted for or against 
 either of the presidential candidates. " The 
 straddle was successful, both for the Sen 
 ator and the Hero. In his letter to the legis 
 lature acknowledging the honor, Van Buren 
 said it would be his " constant and zealous 
 endeavor to protect the remaining rights 
 
Martin Van Bur en 137 
 
 reserved to the state by the federal consti- 
 tion; to restore those of which they have 
 been divested by construction, and to pro 
 mote the interests and honor of our country." 
 This is state rights, anti-Federal, demo 
 cratic to the heart. 
 
 But the mask of non-committalism that 
 won the Adams men in the legislature was 
 put aside immediately after it had served 
 its purpose, and the cause of Jackson was 
 espoused with great vehemence. 
 
 The majority for "Old Hickory" was 
 overwhelming. On the same high tide of 
 Democracy, VanBuren was swept into the 
 governor s chair, although with majorities 
 much below those of the President. The 
 anti-Masons polled 33,335 votes in New 
 York for their candidate for governor, and 
 this reduced Van Buren s majority to merely 
 nominal figures. But Van Buren did not 
 want to remain governor. He sought the 
 office only for the prestige and glory it would 
 bring. He had an understanding that his 
 reward in laboring so skilfully to bring New 
 York to Jackson would be a cabinet office. 
 He resigned his seat in the United States 
 senate to become the governor of New York; 
 he resigned the governor s chair to become 
 secretary of state, all within three months. 
 This was rapid promotion. 
 
 Van Buren chose as his successor in the 
 senate Charles E. Dudley, a mediocre man, 
 "not distinguished for vigorous mental 
 
138 Five American Politicians 
 
 powers," and who would do the exact bid 
 ding of his political creator. 
 
 Triumphant Democracy entered the na 
 tion s capitol with its Hero. Frontiersmen, 
 farmers, hunters, scouts, clad in the regalia of 
 their daily tasks, mingled in picturesque 
 confusion in the nation s city. They came by 
 the thousands, they filled the capitol, they 
 swarmed to the White House, they crowded 
 the streets, they were universal. On the 
 day of the inauguration they hailed their 
 first President with shouts of triumph. John 
 Quincy Adams, in his diary, says that Jack 
 son let them use the White House parlors as 
 a taproom, and that the floors were flooded 
 with the overflow of whisky brought from 
 Kentucky and western Pennsylvania; that 
 the conquerors were conquered by brandy 
 drunk from tin cups and drawn directly from 
 the bunghole, and that they stretched them 
 selves on the White House floors until their 
 drunken stupor had passed off. But Adams 
 was a prejudiced witness and got his tale 
 by hearsay. 
 
 But these Huns did proclaim their Attila 
 in a saturnalia of wild delight; they did drive 
 from Washington the disorganized rem 
 nants of ancient Federalism ; they did snatch 
 the bank of the nation from the hands of 
 its protectors and throw it to the " wildcats ; " 
 they did oust Federal officers by the hun 
 dreds, only to make place for their own 
 
Martin Van Bur en 139 
 
 numbers; they did levy war on national rights 
 and on John Marshall, the upholder of nation 
 alism on the supreme bench; they did write 
 " Rotation in office " on the banners of their 
 party hosts : these and many more things they 
 did, during the reign of the first Democrat. 
 The administration had started its radical 
 course when the new secretary of state ar 
 rived. He soon discerned that peace within 
 the cabinet could not be maintained. The 
 wife of Eaton, secretary of war, was under 
 a social ban. The gallantry of Jackson 
 rushed to her rescue. The cabinet ladies 
 refused to call on her. Van Buren was a 
 widower and had no daughters. He was not 
 embarrassed by the delicacy of the situa 
 tion and paid the usual social attentions to 
 Mrs. Eaton. This redoubled the attachment 
 the President had formed for his premier. 
 The jealousy of Calhoun completed the rup 
 ture in the cabinet. The growing popular 
 ity and power of Van Buren made the Phil 
 osopher of South Carolina fear lest he should 
 be pushed aside as the successor of Jackson. 
 The President discovered that Calhoun 
 while a member of Monroe s cabinet, favored 
 the recalling of General Jackson from the 
 Florida frontier and placing him in the hands 
 of a court martial. All the violence of 
 Jacksonian wrath was hurled at the head 
 of Calhoun, and he resigned from the cabi 
 net. The Presidency was from that mo 
 ment forever beyond his reach. 
 
14 Five American Politicians 
 
 Van Buren was the political manager of 
 the President and of the cabinet. In 1830 
 the congressional caucus resolved that Jack 
 son should have a second term. Jackson 
 had said, in 1828, that he would take only 
 one term, and had even recommended a 
 constitutional amendment forbidding the 
 reelection of a President. But Van Buren 
 was now manipulating the machine behind 
 the scenes. Van Buren was to be Jackson s 
 successor. He could not have his party 
 machine perfected in 1832, therefore it was 
 necessary to give "Old Hickory" one more 
 term. By early endorsement of Jackson, he 
 would cut off both competition and jeal 
 ousy competition against Jackson and 
 jealousy against himself, lest he be accused 
 of trying to become President at the end of 
 Jackson s first term. Calhoun was looked 
 upon by the people as the natural successor 
 to Jackson. He had favored Jackson above 
 Adams as Monroe s successor. But the 
 break-up of the cabinet had abruptly ended 
 Calhoun s chances. 
 
 Van Buren was now supreme in his com 
 mand of the party hosts and his machine 
 was now nationalized. He had dictated 
 federal New York state appointments since 
 his entrance into the senate in 1821. He 
 now advised the President on all prominent 
 national appointments. He had introduced 
 the New York system of rotation in office 
 into the national service, and the first year 
 
Martin Van Buren 141 
 
 of the administration saw 690 officers re 
 moved to make way for Democrats of the 
 reigning school; a greater number by three 
 times than all the Presidents preceding 
 Jackson had dismissed. In every state, city 
 and hamlet he had appointed trusted agents 
 to look after the interests of the party. He 
 had created a " Kitchen Cabinet" into a 
 national " Regency," and enthroned it 
 over patronage and policy. He had 
 paved the way for a second term for 
 Jackson and made himself heir appar 
 ent to the throne. He had studiously 
 avoided all direct issues that would 
 involve him in entangling alliances with sen- 
 timent or conviction. He had taken sides 
 \ only with the majority. He had fastened 
 ; himself, through artless guile, courtly de- 
 ; meanor, and skilful intrigue upon the good 
 \will of his chief. And finally he had put 
 \aside his only competitor for first honors, 
 Calhoun, by making him the open enemy 
 of Jackson. 
 
 One thing yet remained. He was known 
 principally as a politician. He needed the 
 halo of national service to complete his 
 fitness for a niche in the gallery of Presi 
 dents. A mere politician could not hope 
 to become President, even though he had 
 behind him the strongest political organiza 
 tion the country had known. Nor could, in 
 those days, an unknown man be picked up 
 by a coterie of political schemers and hoisted 
 
I4 2 Five American Politicians 
 
 to the Presidency. VanBuren s own meth 
 ods made this possible some years later to 
 his own degradation. It is a true revelation 
 of the character of Van Buren and his arts 
 that seven years as United States senator 
 and three years as secretary of state had not 
 given him sufficient prominence to make him 
 appear to the people of the Union as a na 
 tional character. Van Buren worked behind 
 the scenes. 
 
 He now found a way to nationalize him 
 self. Jackson approved of it. In 1831 he 
 resigned from the cabinet and was at once 
 appointed ambassador to the court of St. 
 James. His appointment took place during 
 a congressional recess. On reconvening the 
 senate refused to affirm the appointment. 
 The debate on the rejection lasted three 
 months. It is the most notable case in our 
 history of the refusal of the senate to concur 
 with the executive in the appointment of 
 a foreign ambassador. The ostensible rea 
 son for the unusual action of the senate was 
 the instructions Van Buren as secretary of 
 state had given to his predecessor in Lon 
 don, McLane, pertaining to the attitude of 
 the Jackson administration on the collection 
 of certain American claims against Great 
 Britain. These instructions were made to 
 appear undignified and compromising. 
 
 But the true reason for this unusual action 
 was political. Webster refused to vote for 
 the nomination because he thought Van 
 
Martin Van Bur en 143 
 
 Buren had appointed himself to the place, 
 and closed his speech as follows: "Mr. 
 President, I have discharged an exceedingly 
 unpleasant duty, the most unpleasant of my 
 public life. But I have looked upon it as a 
 duty, and it was not to be shunned. And, 
 sir, however unimportant may be the opinion 
 of so humble an individual as myself,* I now 
 only wish thaTTlmghtrim~irea^-b3r every 
 independent freeman in the United States, 
 by the British minister and the British king, 
 and by every minister and every crowned 
 head of Europe, while standing here in my 
 place, I pronounce my rebuke, as solemnly 
 and as decisively as I can, upon this first 
 instance, in which an American minister 
 has been sent abroad as the representative of 
 his party and not as the representative of his 
 country. " 
 
 -~Upon the same subject Clay said: "I be 
 lieve upon circumstances which satisfy my 
 mind that to this gentleman is to be princi 
 pally ascribed the introduction of the odious 
 system of proscription for the exercise of the 
 the elective franchise in the government of 
 of the United States. I understand that it is 
 the system on which the party in his own state, 
 of which he is the reputed head, constantly 
 acts. He was among the first of the secre 
 taries to apply that system to the dismission 
 of clerks of his department, known to me 
 to be highly meritorious, and one of them 
 is now a representative in the other house. 
 
144 Five American Politicians 
 
 It is a detestable system, drawn from the 
 worst period of the Roman Republic, and if 
 it were to be perpetuated, if the offices, honors 
 and dignities of the people were to be put 
 to a scramble to be decided by the result of 
 every presidential election, our government 
 and institutions, becoming intolerable, would 
 finally end in a despotism as inexorable as 
 that at Constantinople. 
 
 "Sir, the necessity under which we are 
 placed is painful, but it is no fault of the 
 senate, whose consent and advice are re 
 quired by the constitution to consummate 
 this appointment, that the minister has been 
 sent out of the United States without their 
 concurrence. I hope the public will not be 
 prejudiced by his rejection, if he should be 
 rejected; and I feel perfectly asssured that 
 if the government to which he has been de 
 puted shall learn that he has been rejected 
 because he has, by his instructions to Mr. 
 McLane, stained the character of our coun 
 try, the moral effect of our decision will 
 greatly outweigh any advantage to be de 
 rived from his negotiations whatever they 
 may have been intended to be." 
 
 To this criticism, Marcy, senator from 
 New York, the friend and political intimate 
 of Van Buren, hastened to reply and left on 
 record for all subsequent time the story of 
 the beginning of the national spoils system. 
 Alluding to Clay s attack upon the New York 
 system of robber politics, Marcy replied that 
 
Martin Van Buren 145 
 
 Kentucky practiced the same system, that 
 Van Buren did not originate it in New York, 
 and that Jackson s wholesale proscriptions 
 were justified. "I fear the gentleman does 
 not sufficiently consider the peculiar circum 
 stances under which the present administra 
 tion came into power. General Jackson did 
 not come in under the same circumstances 
 that Mr. Adams did, or Mr. Monroe. His 
 accession was like that of Jefferson. He 
 came in, sir, upon a political revolution. 
 The contest was without parallel. Much 
 political bitterness was engendered, crimina 
 tions and recriminations were made. When 
 the present chief magistrate took upon him 
 self the administration of the government, 
 he found almost all the offices, from the 
 highest to the lowest, filled by political ene 
 mies. That his cabinet was composed of 
 his friends, no one will complain. The rea 
 sons for thus composing it will apply with 
 considerable force to many of the officers 
 under the heads of the several departments. 
 " It may be, sir, that the politicians of the 
 United States are not so fastidious as some 
 gentlemen are as to disclosing the principles 
 on which they act. They boldly preach 
 what they practice. When they are con 
 tending for victory, they claim their inten 
 tions of enjoying the fruits of it. If they 
 are defeated, they expect to retire from 
 office. If they are successful, they claim, 
 as a matter of right, the advantages of suc- 
 
 10 
 
146 Five American Politicians 
 
 cess. They see nothing ivrong in the rule that 
 to the victor belong the spoils of the enemy." 
 
 The subject of this remarkably frank para 
 graph is not "some gentlemen" but "the 
 politicians." 
 
 Clay replied: "The gentleman from New 
 York [Mr. Marcy] supposes in adverting to 
 the practice of proscription, which I under 
 stand prevailed with the dominant party in 
 his state, that I had reflected upon the char 
 acter of that state. And he alleges that the 
 practice had existed for thirty years with 
 every dominant party and was rigorously 
 exercised many years ago by my friends. 
 Nothing was farther from my intention than 
 to reflect in the smallest degree upon that 
 powerful and respectable state. But I must 
 pronounce my abhorrence of the practice to 
 which I allude, no matter with whom it 
 originated, whether friend or foe, or by 
 whom it may be continued. It has been 
 carried by the present administration to a 
 most odious extent in Kentucky. Almost 
 every official incumbent who voted against 
 the present chief magistrate and who was 
 within the executive s reach has been hurled 
 from office, whilst those who voted for him 
 have been retained, no matter how long they 
 had been in their stations. It is not prac 
 ticed in Kentucky by the state government 
 when in the hands of the opposition to this 
 administration. Governor Metcalf e lately ap 
 pointed a political opponent to a high office." 
 
Martin Van Buren 147 
 
 This first defense of the spoils system was 
 complete. Marcy s brutal candor has never 
 been excelled. His statement of the phil 
 osophy of the spoils politician is perfect. 
 Three quarters of a century of development 
 has not improved upon it. He admitted 
 that to Van Buren and Jackson and all their 
 myrmidons, politics was war upon the public 
 purse, that the people were victims, that 
 their goods and their rights and their safety 
 were "spoils" which legitimately belonged 
 to the "victor." Strangely, the people be 
 lieved Marcy rather than Clay. 
 
 The vote in the senate was purposely inade 
 a tie by the pre-arranged absence of a number 
 of anti-Jacksonians so that Calhoun, as 
 president of the senate, might taste sweet 
 revenge on his bitter foe by casting the de 
 ciding vote. 
 
 Van Buren was recalled. The people re 
 ceived him, not as a rebuked spoilsman, but 
 as a martyr to political jealousy. Democ 
 racy was in ferment in every state. The 
 New York legislature, on the instigation of 
 Van Buren himself, sent a letter to Jackson 
 extolling their leader. They had "cheer 
 fully acquiesced in the removal and had 
 freely surrendered their most distinguished 
 follow citizen," and assured the President 
 that "the state of New York is capable in 
 itself in avenging^ the indignity thus offered 
 to its character, in the person of its favorite 
 
148 Five American Politicians 
 
 The friends of the rejected minister made 
 the most of their opportunity, and paraded 
 their chieftain as a martyr and hero. The 
 citizens of New York said that "the occur 
 rence will leave no other impression than 
 that the arrow has fallen far from its mark, 
 and that the subject at which it was aimed 
 stands unscathed and unhurt." Young 
 men s political clubs sent him long and 
 lachrymose letters. Every Democratic or 
 ganization in county and city passed reso 
 lutions condemning the action. Van Buren 
 answered every one of these communica 
 tions. He craftily suited style and senti 
 ment to the locality and the people to whom 
 he wrote. He was stilted, flattering, non 
 committal, obeisant. He made a splendid 
 martyr. He relates in these epistles how 
 he has been "wounded to the quick while 
 absent from home and exerting himself so 
 arduously for his country." 
 
 Skilfully and universally was this humili 
 ation of Van Buren made the means of his 
 elevation. Instead of degrading him, the 
 Whigs exalted him. 
 
 The first national convention of the Demo 
 cratic party was held in Baltimore May 21, 
 1832. The people had already chosen 
 Jackson for renomination. The politicians 
 now chose Van Buren for second place, con 
 fident that he would be swept into power 
 by the same hurricane of fervor that would 
 destroy the enemies of the bank. In their 
 
Martin Van Buren 149 
 
 convention they adopted no platform but 
 recommended that in each state the issues 
 most suited to the locality be presented. 
 They hoped to get the vote of eastern Demo 
 crats that favored the bank and of western 
 states that asked federal aid for internal im 
 provements. They were at the same mo 
 ment-strict constructionists in the east and 
 loose constructionists in the west. Under 
 the elastic code of Jacksonianism they could 
 be both Whig and Democrat. Into this 
 non-committal policy their non-committal 
 candidate for Vice-President fitted snugly. 
 Jackson was the real issue and Clay the an 
 tagonist. Van Buren was a passive letter 
 writer, a figurehead. The people gave 219 
 electoral votes to their Hero and only 49 to 
 their Idol. 
 
 Van Buren s ambition was no secret. He 
 not only entered the senate chamber as pre 
 siding officer, but as a candidate for the suc 
 cession. Jackson had so willed and daily 
 held counsel with his intimate friend; the 
 politicians had so decreed and perfected the 
 machinery that was to carry out their wish; 
 Van Buren had so planned for twenty years 
 and guarded his words and deeds that he 
 might avoid all offence. Why need the 
 people be asked when such a unanimity of 
 decision prevailed? The people were not 
 asked. When politicians forget to reckon 
 with the people, they plan their own de 
 struction. Machine success is only tempo- 
 
150 Five American Politicians 
 
 rary, and the builder of this machine was 
 the creator of his own destruction. 
 
 For four years Van Buren posed as a can 
 didate. He was duly named in May, 1835, 
 in the second national democratic conven 
 tion at Baltimore. In this convention sat 
 over 500 delegates from twenty-three states. 
 Maryland sent 183, Tennessee one. But 
 each delegation had only as many votes as 
 its state had in the electoral college. The 
 convention plan had not yet received unan 
 imous sanction, and the president of this 
 convention, Andrew Stevenson of Virginia, 
 devoted most of his speech to an apology of 
 the convention plan and showing its superi 
 ority over the congressional caucus. There 
 was no " keynote," no platform, no set of reso 
 lutions, and the two-thirds rule of the pre 
 ceding convention was again adopted. 
 
 The south offered its opposition feebly to 
 the convention s choice. Calhoun could not 
 forgive. Soon after the rupture in Jack 
 son s first cabinet, Calhoun was dined in 
 Pendleton, S. C. The usual toast to the 
 President was omitted and one was drunk 
 to Martin Van Buren, with this sentiment: 
 "Oh, that deceit should steal such gentle 
 shapes and with a virtuous visor hide deep 
 vices." 
 
 In the convention, however, there was little 
 opposition to him. It was a program con 
 vention. Every delegate had been pledged 
 before he was seated, and a motion to pro- 
 
Martin Fan Bur en 151 
 
 ceed to a nomination was received with a 
 sarcastic smile. But in the south after the 
 convention the opposition was bitter. Van 
 Burenwas derided as "secret, sly, selfish, cold, 
 calculating, distrustful, treacherous." Davy 
 Crockett wrote a biography of the candidate 
 full of coarse frontier humor, in which Van 
 Buren was declaimed "as opposite to Gen. 
 Jackson as dung is to a diamond." And Cal- 
 houn described the Van Buren men as "a 
 powerful faction (party it cannot be called) 
 held together by the hopes of public plunder 
 and marching under the banner whereon is 
 written Ho the victors belong the spoils. 
 
 Van Buren accepted the nomination in a 
 rambling, inane letter. The campaign of 
 18 months dragged on, disorderly, desultory, 
 disheartening. The western Whigs named 
 the unknown William Henry Harrison, the 
 New England Whigs their favorite Webster, 
 and the southern defection named Senator 
 Whiting of Tennessee, a dignified, able and 
 popular statesman. 
 
 The slavery issue now first made its ap 
 pearance in national politics. The abo 
 litionists began their crusade of clamor. 
 Van Buren was asked by a committee from 
 North Carolina : "Do you or do you not be 
 lieve that congress has the constitutional 
 power to interfere with or abolish slavery 
 from the District of Columbia? " To which 
 he answered at great length, and in equiv 
 ocal terms, that congress could not interfere 
 
i5 2 Five American Politicians 
 
 with slavery in the states, and that it better 
 not in the District. 
 
 However, before election the "non-com 
 mittal " candidate did write a letter in which 
 he for once came out squarely and ably 
 against the bank, for the sub-treasury, for a 
 gradual reduction in the tariff, and against 
 the distribution of the surplus funds among 
 the states. This is the only oasis in that 
 most dreary and long-drawn-out presiden 
 tial contest. 
 
 On the first of November, just preceding 
 the election, a leading New England Whig 
 paper said: "Political knavery was never 
 before carried to such an extent in this coun 
 try as it has been by Martin Van Buren. To 
 all intents and purposes, on all great national 
 questions, on which all leading statesmen 
 have taken sides, Martin Van Buren is 
 seated on the fence. What confidence can 
 be placed by any party in such a trimmer? 
 He is the professed friend of ail factions; in 
 other words, he is not to be trusted by any." 
 
 And a few days later the same journal 
 gave the following moderate description of 
 his political methods. 
 
 "Van Buren is a second-rate man. He is 
 riot only urged by a corrupt faction as a can 
 didate for the presidency, but it is done with 
 such a high hand of dictation, that those 
 who dare oppose him are denounced and 
 abused as though they had committed some 
 unpardonable offense against the govern- 
 
Martin Van Buren 153 
 
 ment. This is a contest between the office 
 holders and the people. These official agents, 
 including postmasters, are estimated to 
 amount to more than 40,000, scattered all 
 over the country. They derive their means 
 of living from the public treasury, and are 
 totally dependent on the powers that be, for 
 their support. If the existing powers 
 would but tolerate freedom of sentiment and 
 independence in the exercise of their politi 
 cal rights, all would be well. But the mis 
 fortune is that the President, at the instiga 
 tion of Martin Van Buren, has declared a 
 warfare of official extermination against all 
 who have the independence to think and act 
 for themselves. This is so well understood 
 and practiced upon, that every office-holder 
 knows that his official income depends upon 
 his devotion to the party. Hence every 
 placeman, whatever may be his private 
 opinion or wish, becomes a devoted partisan 
 of Van Buren. Martin Van Buren himself 
 stands foremost to set an example of cor 
 rupt subserviency." 
 
 This reads very much like a description 
 of present-day political methods. In the 
 year in which it was written, it was not a fa 
 miliar contribution to political literature. 
 
 One other contemporary characterization 
 of Van Buren, written at this time, will give 
 the views of the moderate Whigs concerning 
 the Democratic presidential candidate. On 
 November 5, 1836, Alexander E. Everett, a 
 
154 Five American Politicians 
 
 former United States minister to Spain, wrote 
 a letter for publication. This is his opinion 
 of Van Buren : 
 
 "A narrow, sordid, selfish spirit pursuing 
 little ends by little means. No power, 
 depth or reach of mind; no generosity of 
 feeling ; no principle or cause, no faith in the 
 existence of such qualities in others. He 
 enters on the high and sacred concerns of 
 government in the same temper in which, 
 as a village lawyer, he sat down to play all 
 comers at the ale house, and is just as ready 
 to employ any trick that will increase his 
 share of the spoils of victory. This cele 
 brated phrase, the most unblushing avowal 
 of infamy that was ever made by a public 
 man, characterizes completely Mr. Van Bur- 
 en and his party." 
 
 Notwithstanding these widespread opin 
 ions, Van Buren was elected. Of 283 elec 
 toral votes he received 170, and of a popular 
 vote of 1,498,328 he had 762,678. Not an 
 over- whelming majority, and one confined to 
 New England and the Middle States. His 
 own New York gave him 29,000 majority. 
 
 Thus entered the White House the first of 
 our presidents who had not been active in 
 the Revolution. The first was he, also, of 
 mere politicians who usurped the place of 
 the statesmen that had graced the highest 
 place in our government since its inception. 
 
 It was a noble succession to which he at 
 tained. Not in the history of nations has 
 
Martin Van Bur en 155 
 
 there been a nobler, abler and more majes 
 tic line of rulers than that which exalted 
 our executive office, from the great Cincin- 
 natus to the Hero of New Orleans. 
 
 Each one has left an imposing monument 
 to his genius. Washington organized the 
 government from the broken fragments of 
 the Confederation. The Father of his 
 Country transmitted to this republic the 
 character of his own personality, its dignity, 
 patriotism and high aspirations. All the 
 virtues of the republic were blended in his 
 genius, and transmitted to all time by the 
 ardor of his services. 
 
 The elder Adams was the Puritan states 
 man whose rugged force resisted the incur 
 sions of England and France. 
 
 Thomas Jefferson, philosopher and farmer, 
 gave to the nation not only the axioms of the 
 Declaration of Independence, but added a 
 domain of imperial magnitude and unlim 
 ited resources to the thirteen states. 
 
 James Madison was the father of our fed- 
 teral constitution. Modest and scholarly, 
 he was fitted rather for the bench than for 
 the executive chair. And his quiet nature 
 shrank from the conduct of a bloody war. 
 
 James Monroe, gallant, courtly, added the 
 Monroe doctrine to the rules of international 
 conduct. 
 
 John Quincy Adams, scholar, diplomat, 
 statesman, administered the duties of the 
 office with vehemence and impartiality. 
 
156 Five American Politicians 
 
 Andrew Jackson, hero of the multitude, 
 soldier rather than statesman patriot 
 though partisan, fought with frenzied zeal 
 the bank he believed to be the enemy of 
 the people, and struck from the hand of 
 secession the sword it had lifted against 
 the federal union. His rugged personality 
 has left upon the nation a permanent impress, 
 and so strong was the virility of his convic 
 tions that he gave new birth to a national 
 party, and he remains to this day the politi 
 cal sanction of half our peoples. 
 
 Now comes Martin Van Buren, machine 
 politician. A man with a marvelous memory 
 for names, a smile for every eye, a clasp for 
 every hand, a nod for every issue. A man who 
 has reduced politics to routine, plunder to a 
 science, and duping the public to an art. A 
 man who masks his littleness behind the great 
 ness of his master, who transforms artifice into 
 reality, who exalts majorities above princi 
 ples. A man who is the friend of New York s 
 Tammany, founder of the Albany Regency, 
 master mechanic of the first national political 
 machine. This man inaugurates the era of the 
 mediocre, which for a quarter of a century will 
 rule the White House, and transform the na 
 tional capitol into the duelling ground be 
 tween the North and South, the enchained and 
 the free : the mediocre executive whose weak 
 nesses and foibles will allow the giants of the 
 hour free combat, and will delay the day of 
 the " irrepressible conflict." 
 
Martin Van Bur en 157 
 
 Van Buren knew how to marshal men, 
 but he could not marshal facts. He knew 
 how to use issues, but he could not face is 
 sues. The day of his inauguration was the 
 day of his enervation. His inaugural speech 
 was direct and able, a surprise to his friends 
 and a disappointment to his foes. But he 
 could not live up to its prophecy. The pol 
 itician could not metamorphose into the 
 statesman. The man, who for years had 
 resorted to all the petty tricks of office seek 
 ers, could not exalt his office above the mean 
 ness of his devices. When Van Buren as 
 sumed to play the role of statesman, his 
 cunning left him, his vitality departed. 
 His appointments were lamentably weak, 
 such as the naming of Paulding for secretary 
 of the navy. His skill as a leader vanished. 
 He could not hold his party together. And 
 misfortune, that had throughout his long 
 public career been a stranger to him, now 
 called at his door with her troop of melan 
 choly followers. The unwisdom of Jackson s 
 financial measures now became apparent. 
 The whirlwind was reaped by poor Van 
 Buren. 
 
 The panic of 1837 desolated every hamlet 
 and brought woe to every home. Want and 
 failure stalked the land. Mills were closed, 
 mortgages foreclosed, whole towns swept off 
 the map, fortunes vanished in a night. 
 Prices became ridiculous, wages were reduced 
 to the starvation point, and profits were the 
 
158 Five American Politicians 
 
 substance of reverie. No subsequent panic 
 wrought such havoc with the great masses of 
 our people as did the crisis of 1837. The ad 
 ministration had to bear the blame. All the 
 failures of Jackson s rash and insane finan 
 cial measures were heaped upon Van Buren s 
 head. 
 
 \ Van Buren could not avert disaster, but 
 he faced it with calmness, dignity and brav 
 ery. He called a special session of Con 
 gress, boldly stated his plan for a sub-treas 
 ury system, and devoted himself faithfully 
 to the cause of redemption. 
 
 The panic ran its course before the end of 
 his term. But the return of activity could 
 not restore Van Buren to favor. The people 
 visited their own disaster upon their Presi 
 dent. They transferred the wild enthusi 
 asm they had bestowed upon Jackson to 
 William Henry Harrison, the Whig candi 
 date, and in a delirium of nervous frenzy, 
 elected the first "unknown" man to the 
 presidency. 
 
 It was a furious campaign, fanatical and 
 unreasoning; childish and blind. 
 
 Gen. Harrison possessed those rugged 
 traits of character that appealed to the 
 frontiersman and the farmers of the west. 
 Indian fighter, he was the hero of Tippe- 
 canoe; coon hunter, he was the woodsman s 
 ideal; dwelling in a log cabin, he was com 
 mon with the frontiersman; a lover of hard 
 cider, he was not aristocratic; farmer and 
 
Martin Van Bur en 159 
 
 stock raiser he was the idol of the agricul 
 tural classes; poor, and accustomed to hard 
 toil, he was "one of the people." And he 
 had seen just enough public service as gov 
 ernor of Indiana Territory, and as congress 
 man, to excuse his candidacy in the minds 
 of the eastern Whigs. 
 
 The personal characteristics of the candi 
 dates were exalted above issues. Van 
 Buren was a "mere politician," Harrison 
 accused him of "electioneering tricks de 
 signed by the great enemy of mankind for 
 the destruction of pure government, by pre 
 venting a free expression of the public will." 
 Giddings of Ohio called him a "senile dough 
 face, who had placed the evidence of his 
 senility conspicuously upon the records of 
 his country," and said that his desire for the 
 vote of the slave-dealers was "uppermost 
 in his mind." 
 
 New York Evening Post more truth- 
 portrayed his political methods: "He 
 belongs wholly to the present time, and may 
 be said to represent trading or business poll- j 
 tics. He is the very impersonation of party < 
 in its strictest feature of formal discipline 
 and exclusive combination." 
 
 M. M. Noah, a publicist of some note, said 
 the people " do not see the fox prowling near 
 the barn, the mole burrowing near the 
 ground, the pilot fish who plunges deep into 
 the ocean in one spot and comes up in an 
 other to breathe the air." This was pictur- 
 
 . 
 
 fully 
 
160 Five American Politicians 
 
 esque, and more vivid than his description 
 of Van Buren s methods: "His appeal is to 
 the interests and to the fears of men. He 
 secures those whom he imagines control 
 public opinion. He buys the leaders and 
 makes them accountable for the rank and 
 file." Van Buren s political tricks made 
 him known to the public as "the fox," 
 "snake in the grass," "the little magician." 
 
 The crisis, of course, was not forgotten in 
 the campaign. It is strange that in their 
 condemnation of Van Buren for breaking 
 the storm, they did not blame for one mo 
 ment the Sage of the Hermitage for gathering 
 the clouds. They transferred their enthu 
 siasm from Jackson to Harrison, Unrea 
 soning and unfair, they blamed the President 
 for the part he had played in the financial 
 legislation, and meted him no praise for the 
 manly way in which he had faced discour 
 aging conditions and had sought to stem 
 the tide of disaster. 
 
 The land was flooded with printed matter. 
 The sedate and labored pamphlets of Fed 
 eral days were supplanted by silly, and, un 
 fortunately, often scurrilous, slanderous and 
 suggestive matter, put together in a sensa 
 tional manner and distributed everywhere. 
 The daily paper and weekly magazine had 
 not yet made their universal appearance, 
 and these campaign documents were read 
 with avidity. The reasons why Van Buren 
 should be defeated were enumerated, often 
 
 I 
 
Martin Fan Buren 161 
 
 there were one hundred reasons given, most 
 of them trifling, many of them false, and a 
 few slanderous. He was charged with par 
 tiality, with party treason, with extrava 
 gance, he was elected "purely on the popu 
 larity of Jackson." His sub- treasury sys 
 tem was borrowed from Jackson; he was 
 non-committal, underhanded, sly; he should 
 be defeated because "he is too aristocratic, 
 even in his drink, preferring imported cham 
 pagnes and imperial Tokay to that simple 
 and republican drink, hard cider" and 
 "because the majesty of Democracy does 
 not consist in an extravagantly furnished 
 house, magnificent plate, golden spoons and 
 forks, nor any of the tinsel drapery with 
 which monarchy dazzles the eye of its 
 slaves." He should be defeated because Har- \ / 
 rison is "simple, democratic, one of the peo 
 ple," and most of all because "the people , 
 want a change." 
 
 To emphasize the democracy of their can 
 didate, the Whigs exaggerated every token 
 Van Buren had given, of dignity and quiet 
 reserve. A few plated spoons that had found 
 their way to the White House table, a gift of 
 draperies, mantel-mirrors and some paint 
 ings that had hung on the walls of the re 
 ception hall for many years, were ex 
 ploited in song and story. The simple and 
 unostentatious hospitality of the Presi 
 dent was magnified into Bourbon extrava 
 gance. 
 
162 Five American Politicians 
 
 "His splendid halls are hung about with 
 
 richest tapestry, 
 The mirrors bright and paintings rare 
 
 are wonderful to see. 
 And there his worship sits in state, 
 And rumor s tongue doth say, 
 He quaffs from golden cups, rich wine 
 To moisten his old clay, 
 Like a sub- treasury gentleman, all of the 
 
 modern time." 
 
 It was a battle of ins and outs, the first of 
 our national contests carried on only for the 
 avowed purpose of party spoils. The Whigs 
 wanted the jobs, the Democrats had the 
 jobs. This was the only issue, and it was 
 concealed behind the mask of personality. 
 The unknown Harrison, rough, rugged and 
 sincere, was set up against the well known 
 Van Buren, suave, rich and designing. The 
 ruse succeeded. Popular feeling was stirred 
 to its depths. Reason and logic found no 
 place in that campaign of hue and cry. 
 Every citizen voted. 900,000 more votes 
 were cast in 1840 than in 1836. Upon the 
 crest of this tidal wave of emotion William 
 Henry Harrison was lifted from the office 
 of county clerk to the office of President of 
 the United States. The White House, in 
 the popular imagination, was supplanted by 
 the log cabin, coonskins took the place of 
 "tapestries rare," festoons of dried apples 
 and pumpkins suspended from the ceiling, 
 
Martin Van Bur en 163 
 
 and the exhilarating odor of hard cider filled 
 every chamber. 
 
 The defeat was crushing. The unknown 
 farmer received 234 electoral votes ; the per 
 fect politician only 60. His own state, for 
 the first time in his life, went against Van 
 Buren by 13,300. 
 
 He received the verdict with the cool calm 
 ness of a man who has long reckoned with 
 political fate. He returned to Kinderhook 
 and began the campaign for reelection in 
 1844. It was a campaign of letter writing. 
 By the hundreds he sent forth these epistles 
 to his faithful ones in every state. But he 
 was now a deposed chief. There was defec 
 tion in his own party. The South was de 
 termined that the candidate should be 
 pledged to the annexation of Texas. Cal- 
 houn s day for revenge was at hand. Van 
 Buren would not yield to the dictation of 
 the slave states and pledge himself to their 
 cause. This was the most manly act of his 
 life. It lost him the nomination but it made 
 him independent. 
 
 In the convention of 1844 a majority of the 
 delegates were pledged to Van Buren. But 
 the South was unbending. It came into the 
 hall determined to carry its point. The two- 
 thirds rule that Van Buren had written in 
 1832, that had reappeared in 1835, and that 
 had been dropped in 1840, was now taken up 
 by the slaveholders as their weapon. They 
 forced it upon the convention. Van Buren 
 
164 Five American Politicians 
 
 could not hold together two-thirds of the 
 delegates and lost the nomination. He was 
 killed by a weapon of his own forging. 
 James K. JPo/k, first political "darkhorse," 
 man of mediocrity, obscurity and passivity, 
 was nomingtechand elected. Over his tri 
 umph slave extension ran riot. 
 
 Van Buren s return to his beautiful Lin- 
 denwald on the Hudson was thus made per 
 manent. In 1848 he crept into notice again 
 as the presidential candidate for the sporadic 
 Free Soil, or American, party, an anti- 
 Catholic, anti-foreign movement pushed for 
 ward by some fanatic alarmers. But the 
 frenzy wore off in a few years and the agita 
 tion was quite forgotten. 
 
 Thus closed the public career of a re 
 markable politician, who inaugurated a new 
 movement into American politics. The de 
 fection in his party began upon his defeat. 
 A letter in the Democratic Review of the fol 
 lowing year gives such a fair summing up of 
 the man s character that I transpose several 
 paragraphs here. The letter is addressed to 
 Van Buren by "A fellow Democrat": 
 
 " In your first candidateship for the Presi 
 dency you were the object of no enthusiasm, 
 beyond the limits, perhaps, of your own 
 state. A circumstance connected only re 
 motely with any personal qualities or claims 
 of your own made you Vice-President, your 
 rejection for the English mission by the 
 senate. * * Nor did the impulse in 
 
Martin Van Bur en 165 
 
 your favor thus called into action by 
 your own very enemies exhaust itself in 
 your elevation to the Vice-Presidency. It 
 placed you at the same time in that posi 
 tion of prominence in the rank of your 
 party which could not fail to indicate you 
 almost as a matter of course as its next can 
 didate. * * Your nomination was a mat 
 ter of course. 
 
 "Still through all this your position was 
 comparatively passive. You had done no 
 great deeds to entitle you to this most splen 
 did of political honors, by any right of your 
 own. Your personal claims were of a nature 
 rather negative than positive. A singular 
 fortunate tide of circumstances had borne 
 you forward to the position you had reached; 
 while your talents and the consistent fidelity 
 to Democratic principles, together with the 
 wise moderation of character and the well 
 balanced self-command which had been un 
 ostentatiously exhibited throughout the even 
 tenor of your past political life, though but 
 a small portion of it had been spent on the 
 broader stage of national politics, afforded 
 guarantees on which all could rely that the 
 high trust might be safely reposed in your 
 hands. There was thus a general willing ac 
 quiescence on the part of Democracy in your 
 elevation, but it was rather of a cold char 
 acter. The number was far from small, even 
 among those who supported you, who were 
 not free from some distrustful misgivings io 
 
1 66 Five American Politicians 
 
 relation to you. A certain impression, the 
 more unfavorable from its very vagueness, 
 prevailed to no slight extent even among your 
 own party that you had rather too much the 
 talent of the politician and too little the 
 genius of the statesman. And never had a 
 President higher reason for pride in the sup 
 port received by him from his party than 
 that with which you can reflect upon all the 
 circumstances of the great contests fromwhich 
 you are now reposing, defeated but not dis 
 honored. With all the respect and political 
 attachment for you, of which, in your present 
 day of downfall, I have felt no desire to stint 
 the expression, I confess that I am not in 
 favor of your name as a candidate for the 
 next election, on the sole and simple ground 
 that you have already had four years of 
 that most splendid of political dignities." 
 
 This was breaking the news gently and 
 telling the truth with soft words. It is per 
 haps the fairest contemporary character 
 sketch of Van Buren. 
 
 The defeated candidate returned to his 
 beautiful estate, Lindenwald, and spent the 
 remaining years of his life in the quiet pur 
 suits of agriculture. He lived until 1862, 
 long enough to see the great issue which he 
 had straddled become the menace of the 
 Union. If he cherished the hope that Lin 
 denwald might become a classic name linked 
 to the nation s history with Mount Vernon, 
 Monticello, the Hermitage, and Ashland, 
 
Martin Fan Buren 167 
 
 his hope was vain. For Van Buren did not 
 possess those traits of genius that endure. 
 His great contribution to politics, which his 
 eulogist in 1839 glowingly portrayed, name 
 ly, that "he carried into full effect, with ex 
 emplary propriety, that difficult principle of 
 Democracy, the principle of rotation in 
 office," has been a muddy source of pollu 
 tion upon his fame. It is true that in the 
 course of American politics the spoils system 
 was destined to become national, but the 
 man who was principally responsible for the 
 introduction was destined to share in the 
 odium that was heaped upon the system 
 when the days of civil service and civic 
 righteousness dawned. 
 
 His fame must rest upon his genius for 
 practical politics. And herein had he no 
 peers. Nature endowed him with all the 
 suave attributes essential to the mixer, the 
 plotter, the designer. His words were hon 
 eyed with praise for everyone, his voice was 
 velvet, his greeting hearty, his smile sweet 
 and perpetual, his manner graceful and 
 courteous, his temper yielding, his memory 
 true. While his mind was well stored with 
 general literature, it was constructive only 
 in political plans. For thirty-two years he 
 held office without ceasing, and barring the 
 sub-treasury bill, which he partially bor 
 rowed of his great predecessor, he made no 
 noted contribution to American law or 
 American jurisprudence. 
 
1 68 Five American Politicians 
 
 He was always first politician, second leg 
 islator. When in 1822 Taylor, of New York, 
 was a candidate for reelection as speaker of 
 the house of representatives, Van Buren, 
 then senator, would not support him because 
 he was a Clintonian. This was the boss s 
 ideal of party discipline during the days of 
 Monroe s era of non-partisan good feeling. 
 Of all the applicants for the place, the first 
 and absolutely necessary qualification was 
 obedience to the Regency, the Ring, and 
 the Party. He built his machine of the 
 strongest substance, young men. He welded 
 them together by his kindness and secured 
 their united action by office. Thus he 
 created the Bucktail Democracy of New 
 York with its Regency, and expanded it until 
 it covered the nation as the compact Jack- 
 sonian party. 
 
 He had studied in a great school of poli 
 tics. He learned his lesson of intrigue from 
 Burr s associates, his lesson of organization 
 from Burr s Tammany, his lesson of party 
 spoils from Clinton s appointing board. 
 
 He began his political career a friend of 
 Clinton, but the austerity of this statesman 
 repelled him. And what a contrast he was 
 to the grave DeWitt, who called him a 
 "grimalkin politician purring over petty 
 schemes." Clinton was a thundercloud, 
 Van Buren radiant sunshine. Clinton blun 
 dered forth his animosities, Van Buren kept 
 them to himself. Clinton stumbled on with- 
 
Martin Van Bur en 169 
 
 out a party, Van Buren craftily built up a 
 party. Clinton was a statesman proving 
 equal to any great demand put upon him; 
 Van Buren was a politician who had care 
 fully planned a stairway to the Presidency, 
 and when he had climbed it, was found la 
 mentably weak, swept aside by a tornado 
 of protest, and left behind him not one evi 
 dence of creative capacity. Clinton, when 
 out of office, was stronger than when in 
 office; Van Buren, when out of office, re 
 mained out forever. Clinton was a giant 
 without a party, Van Buren was a pygmy 
 without his machine. Clinton disorganized 
 his following, but created public sentiment; 
 Van Buren organized his following into a 
 superbly disciplined army, but never won 
 the glory of a creator of public sentiment. 
 Clinton stumbled into power because of his 
 genius, Van Buren carefully devised the lad 
 der that led him to the pinnacle of power. 
 These were the rungs of the ladder: Sur 
 rogate, State Senator, Attorney General, 
 United States Senator, Governor, Secretary 
 of State, Minister to England, Vice-Presi 
 dent, President. 
 
 And from this height of power, he fell 
 suddenly into the gloom of mediocrity. Not 
 because of any fault of character, for his 
 private life was spotless and his integrity 
 beyond reproach. But because he forgot 
 the persistence of issues, because he built for 
 to-day and his work crumbled on the mor- 
 
170 Five American Politicians 
 
 row; because the terraces he carefully 
 erected for his own elevation disintegrated 
 under him and buried him in their ruins; 
 because mere politics is not a basis for last 
 ing fame, and political chicane is not a foun 
 dation for enduring eminence. 
 
UNIVERSITY I 
 
 OF 
 
 HENRY CLAY 
 
 MASTER AND VICTIM OF COMPROMISE 
 AND COALITION 
 
HENRY CLAY 
 
 MASTER AND VICTIM OF COMPROMISE 
 AND COALITION 
 
 MANY were the expressions of misgiv 
 ing that accompanied the framing of 
 the national constitution and its 
 adoption. The spirit of nationalism was 
 weak. The thought of a blending of diverse 
 states into a homogeneous union was novel. 
 The spirit of provincialism was powerful. 
 The thought of territorial or sectional se 
 curity was a habit. But as the new govern 
 ment grew in years and its wise leaders 
 guided it into the realms of security and 
 prosperity, a national sentiment was de 
 veloped unconsciously as develops the filial 
 love in the bosom of a child. As the revo 
 lutionary generation gave w r ay to their sons 
 and daughters, this sentiment increased. 
 The new generation knew not the colonial 
 passions of their fathers. They knew a 
 United States, not a warring strip of thirteen 
 colonies. The patriotic devotion to the 
 Union was not throbbing with that ardor 
 which we know and feel. While the sun of 
 nationalism was showing its beaming face, 
 it was yet a rising sun. Fierce and terrible 
 must be the struggle ere it could shine full 
 
174 Five American Politicians 
 
 and resplendent upon a nation united in 
 sentiment as in law. 
 
 It was the mission of our first century to 
 evolve this spirit of unionism out of the 
 germs of sectionalism; to transform the con 
 federation into a union. This could be ac 
 complished only after a ponderous economic 
 barrier had been leveled, after great leaders 
 had vainly attempted through compromise 
 and coalition to avert the calamity of fra 
 ternal war. The insurmountable economic 
 barrier was slavery; union sentiment was 
 partially crystalized in the Whig party; and 
 the brilliant leader of that party was Henry 
 Clay, "The Great Pacificator." Through 
 his trinity of compromises he delayed the 
 inevitable struggle; through his political 
 genius he formed the first coalition party 
 in America; through his burning eloquence 
 and winning generosity he brought all men 
 to his feet, and his very greatness closed for 
 him the portals to the dearest object of his 
 ambition. 
 
 The first storm broke in 1818-20 over the 
 admission of Missouri. The nation, repos 
 ing in the calm self-assurance that all was 
 well, was suddenly shaken by a political 
 earthquake that threatened to demolish the 
 structure of its government. The north, 
 since the revolution, had been content to 
 develop its commerce and manufacturies, 
 paying little heed to the economic condi 
 tions of the south. The west was in the 
 
Henry Clay 75 
 
 midst of a vigorous and unprecedented 
 growth, the south was learning the value 
 of slave labor as an adjunct to the cotton 
 gin of Whitney and the mills of England. 
 Each section was economically oblivious of 
 the others. When Missouri came, inad 
 vertently asking admission to the group in 
 March, 1818, she called the attention of the 
 whole nation to the subject of slavery. By 
 the time that a statehood bill had been for 
 mulated, February 13, 1819, the north, 
 through Tallmadge of New York, was pre 
 pared to move that the introduction of 
 slavery be prohibited and that all persons in 
 the state be free when they attained the 
 age of twenty-five years. The gauntlet was 
 thrown, the challenge accepted, the struggle 
 was fierce and passionate, its outcome was 
 doubtful until compromise was achieved. 
 
 The interests of the south were cloaked 
 under the constitutional argument that con 
 gress had no power to limit the admission 
 of a state, under the economic argument 
 that white men could not work in the cotton 
 fields, under the moral argument that slavery 
 was better for the negro than freedom in a 
 land where white and black had to dwell 
 together. The answer of the north was 
 that the constitution did not recognize 
 slavery and that the constitutional power of 
 the general government to exclude slavery 
 from territories implied the power to dictate 
 terms of admissions- that slavery was a 
 
176 Five American Politicians 
 
 great moral wrong, and that it was an 
 economic blight, degrading free labor wher 
 ever it appeared. These arguments were 
 rephrased and amplified in every slavery 
 debate for forty years. But this, the first 
 great debate on the subject, remained the 
 prototype of all; and in its bitterness it was 
 not excelled by anv. 
 
 On February 16, 1819, the House passed 
 the Missouri bill with an amendment te- 
 stricting slavery. The senate struck out 
 the amendment and sent the bill back. At 
 tempts at adjustment failed, the fifteenth 
 congress adjourned under tremendous ex 
 citement. When the sixteenth congress met, 
 the senate coupled the admission of Maine 
 with that of Missouri, to preserve the bal 
 ance of power in the senate. An amend 
 ment prohibiting slavery was voted down. 
 T)n January 18, 1820, Senator Thomas, of 
 Illinois, proposed an amendment that Mis 
 souri be allowed to frame a constitution 
 without any restriction as regards slavery, 
 but that in all the rest of the territory ceded 
 by France to the United States, north of 
 36 30 , the southern boundary of Missouri, 
 slavery be forever prohibited. This was 
 the core of the famous compromise. After 
 a fierce struggle between the interests of the 
 south and the sentiment of the north, it 
 passed both houses. Clay, as speaker of 
 the house, had opposed the admission of 
 Missouri as a free state, but he warmly ad- 
 
Henry Clay 177 
 
 vocated the compromise. He was not its 
 father, but its champion. He was yet to 
 prove its savior. 
 
 The question was revived with multiplied 
 energy in the next session. The bill author 
 izing Missouri to form a state constitution 
 without restricting slavery had been most 
 narrowly interpreted by the territorial con 
 vention. For the new state constitution 
 imposed upon the legislature the duty of 
 passing laws making it unlawful for any free 
 negroes or mulattoes to come into the state 
 or to reside therein. Free negroes and mu 
 lattoes were citizens of the United States, 
 and how could one state prohibit the citizens 
 of another from sojourning and living there 
 in, when the federal constitution guaranteed 
 that the immunities of one state should ex 
 tend to all? 
 
 The war was waged simultaneously in both 
 houses. The senate, December 12, 1820, 
 by a majority of eight, passed an amend 
 ment to the motion admitting Missouri pro 
 viding "that nothing herein contained shall 
 be so construed as to give the assent of con 
 gress to any provision of the constitution of 
 Missouri, if any there be, that contravenes 
 that clause of the constitution of the United 
 States that the citizens of each state be en 
 titled to all the privileges and immunities 
 of citizens in the several states." In the 
 house, Lowndes of South Carolina intro 
 duced a resolution admitting Missouri on the 
 
 12 
 
178 Five American Politicians 
 
 ground that congress had no right to discard 
 the state constitution. Sergeant of Penn 
 sylvania replied that congress had not di 
 vested itself of the right to scrutinize the 
 new state constitution, to see if it conformed 
 to the conditions stipulated. A majority 
 of fourteen refused the admission of Mis- 
 Isouri. So tense was the excitement that 
 Lowndes earnestly asked the house to take 
 proper steps to preserve peace in Missouri. 
 Six weeks later, January 24, 1821, Eustis of 
 Massachusetts moved to admit Missouri on 
 condition that she strike out the clause from 
 her constitution, discriminating against free 
 colored persons. The motion was utterly 
 lost, by a vote of 146 to 6. The house was 
 helpless and discouraged, threats of disunion 
 were heard on every hand. A rebellious 
 territory was holding up a great nation. 
 
 A peace-maker was at hand. He grasped 
 **anew the smoldering torch of union senti 
 ment and fanned it into a living blaze. 
 Upon the turbulent waters of strife he 
 poured the assuaging oil of compromise. He 
 appeared upon the scene at the critical mo 
 ment. Pressure of financial cares had com 
 pelled him to resign the s.peakership at the 
 end of the preceding session. He had ar 
 rived in Washington only a week before the 
 introduction of Eustis resolution. When 
 the vote was announced, he arose at once 
 and broke the solemn stillness that weighed 
 down the hearts of the members, by calmly 
 
Henry Clay 179 
 
 announcing that " on the day after to-morrow 
 he should move to go into committee of the 
 whole to take into consideration the resolu 
 tion from the senate on the subject of Mis 
 souri." 
 
 All efforts to reach an agreement in the 
 committee of the whole failed. In order to 
 bring these men together, the conciliator 
 must find a base upon which could stand 
 most violent pro-slavery men who would 
 rather keep their slaves than their country, 
 most intense anti-slavery men who would 
 rather dissolve the constitution than relax 
 their high moral standard, and all varieties of 
 faith in between these extremes. At last 
 Clay moved to refer the whole matter to a 
 special committee of thirteen. Clay was 
 made chairman. On February tenth, his re 
 port was laid before the expectant House. 
 To the north it proposed to admit Missouri 
 " on an equal footing with the original states 
 in all respects whatever, upon the funda 
 mental condition that the said state shall 
 never pass any law preventing any descrip 
 tion of persons from coming to and settling 
 in the said state, who now are, or hereafter \v 
 may bceome, citizens of any of the states of 
 this union." To the south it said that noth 
 ing in the proposal should "be construed to 
 take from the said state of Missouri, when 
 admitted into this union, the exercise of any 
 right or power which can now be constitu 
 tionally exercised by any of the original 
 
180 Five American Politicians 
 
 states." And to take the matter out of 
 congress it resolved that Missouri should be 
 come a state as soon as its legislature, by 
 solemn pact, had agreed never to pass any 
 laws imposing upon the constitutional rights 
 of any citizen. 
 
 Clay appealed in his most ardent and win 
 ning tones to the members of the House. 
 His appeal was futile. On February 13th the 
 resolution was voted down. A crisis was 
 near. On February 14th, Monroe s electoral 
 votes were to be counted. Should Mis 
 souri s vote be counted? A joint commit 
 tee, Clay at the helm, reported "that if any 
 objection be made to the votes of Missouri, 
 and the counting or omitting to count which 
 shall not materially change the election, in 
 that case they should be reported by the 
 President of the Senate in the following man 
 ner; were the votes of Missouri to be count 
 ed, the result would be for A. B. for Presi 
 dent of the United States votes, if not 
 counted, for A. B. as President of the United 
 States votes, but in either case A. B. is 
 elected President, and in the same manner 
 for Vice President." What good fortune that 
 Monroe s choice was virtually unanimous, 
 and his Vice President, Tompkins, had an 
 overwhelming majority! 
 
 But this did not end the Missouri question. 
 The end of the session was nearing. The 
 whole country was agitated. The dissolu 
 tion of the Union was freely and openly dis- 
 
Henry Clay 181 
 
 cussed. James Barber, of Virginia, patriotic 
 and able, earnestly planned a convention of 
 free and slave states to agree on a plan of di 
 viding the union. Floyd, of Virginia, had 
 cried, when the counting of the presidential 
 votes was in progress, " We cannot take an 
 other step without hurling this govern 
 ment into the gulf of destruction." John 
 Randolph, whose fiery antagonism to the 
 anti-slavery men had estranged him even 
 from Clay, who was himself a slave-owner, 
 approached Clay one day and said: "Mr. 
 Speaker, I wish you would leave this chair; I 
 will follow you to Kentucky, or wherever else 
 you may go." Clay replied that he would 
 talk it over with him the following morning 
 in the speaker s room, at which time Clay 
 strongly spoke against secession in any form, 
 and pleaded moderation. Clay himself was 
 often gloomy and expressed grave appre 
 hensions. In one of his foreboding moods 
 he foretold that in a few years the Union 
 would probably be divided into three di 
 visions, a northern, southern, and western. 
 John Quincy Adams, old anti-slavery war 
 horse, while in favor of a compromise, 
 wrote: "Perhaps it would have been a 
 wiser as well as a bolder course to have 
 persisted in the restriction upon Missouri, 
 til it should have terminated in a conven 
 tion of the states to amend and revise the 
 constitution. This would have produced 
 a new Union of thirteen or fourteen states. 
 
1 82 Five American Politicians 
 
 unpolluted with slavery, with a great and 
 glorious object to effect, namely, that of 
 rallying to their standard the other states 
 by the universal emancipation of their 
 slaves. If the Union must be dissolved, 
 slavery is precisely the question upon which 
 it ought to break." 
 
 And from Monticello came the alarming 
 words of Jefferson, the sage of the dominant 
 party: "The Missouri question is the most 
 portending one that ever threatened the 
 
 \TJnion. In the gloomiest moments of the 
 Revolutionary War, I never had any appre 
 hension equal to that I feel upon this 
 source. ^ 
 
 These sentiments of disunion were rapidly 
 shaping themselves into definite form as 
 the end of the session neared. Clay s final 
 resort was a joint committee to report 
 " whether it be expedient or not to make pro 
 vision for the admissio n of Missouri into the 
 Union, and fix the execution of the laws of 
 the United States within Missouri, and if not, 
 whether any other and what provision, 
 adapted to her condition, ought to be made 
 by law." Clay was permitted to make the 
 
 t from which the committee was chosen. 
 February 28 the report was ready. It 
 was virtually the same that Clay s commit 
 tee of thirteen had previously presented to 
 the house. By a majority of four it passed 
 the house, the senate also approved it. The 
 struggle in congress was at an end. 
 
 P. wt 
 
 . te. 
 
Henry Clay 183 
 
 Clay had earned his title. He had gone 
 from member to member, suiting his plea to 
 his man. Personal work and public address, 
 parliamentary management and political 
 craft, were made the adjuncts of his luring 
 eloquence. Every guile known to a warm 
 heart, all the compelling powers of genius, 
 did he pour unstintingly on the altar of his 
 compromise. 
 
 Who was this great "Pacificator/ and 
 what had been his antecedents, that he 
 could reunite a dividing nation, and infuse 
 new life into a dying cause? 
 
 Clay was forty-four years old when his 
 compromise won for him a lasting place in 
 the hall of fame. But it was by no means 
 his first great public achievement. He had 
 been twenty years in the public eye. In 
 deed, for Henry Clay to speak, was for a na 
 tion to listen; for him to beckon, was for a 
 populace to follow. He had but to rise in 
 his place, and the republic s gaze was cen 
 tered upon him. 
 
 Clay was destined by gift and circum 
 stance to be a public man. For nearly half 
 a century, from the time of his majority to 
 the day of his death, he was always an actor 
 upon the political stage, and most of the 
 time he was the star actor. 
 J. He was born in Hanover County, Virginia, 
 in a neighborhood called "The Slashes," on 
 April 12, 1777, the year after the adoption 
 of the Declaration of Independence. His 
 
184 Five American Politicians 
 
 life spanned that period of our history 
 which fixed forever the supremacy of the na- 
 
 | tion over the commonwealthj As a babe, he 
 heard the guns of the Revolution, as an old 
 man of seventy-six years, he heard the omi 
 nous rumbling that foretold the gathering of 
 the storm his energies had so long averted. 
 His father was a Baptist minister, poor in 
 earthly goods, but rich in faith and charac 
 ter and eloquence, known throughout the 
 countryside for his fine voice and natural 
 grace of speech. His mother was a woman 
 of queenly bearing and of intense patriot 
 ism. In Henry were happily blended these 
 gifts of eloquence, of spiritual force, of regal 
 demeanor, and of love for country. But 
 the school in which these talents were cul- 
 
 jtured was the liberal school of life, for be 
 yond his instruction received at home and in 
 the little country school-house, he received 
 no formal tuition. His father died when 
 Henry w r as only four years old, the family 
 was large, and he had to give his small aid 
 to its support. At the age of fifteen he se 
 cured a place in the office of the clerk of the 
 High Court of Chancery, in Richmond, and 
 there, under the tuition of Roland Thomas, 
 the senior clerk, he received his formal train 
 ing for his new duties. The diligence and 
 wit of the raw youth soon attracted the at 
 tention of Chancellor Wythe of the Court of 
 Chancery. This was the most fortunate 
 circumstance in Clay s early life. The Chan- 
 
Henry Clay 185 
 
 cellor was a rare man. His college educa 
 tion he had supplemented by wide reading 
 and large experience. His revolutionary 
 record was brilliant. He drew up a remon 
 strance against the stamp act, he signed the 
 Declaration of Independence, he helped for 
 mulate the Federal Constitution. His mind 
 was profound and well trained. For ten 
 years he was Professor of Jurisprudence in 
 William and Mary College. His disposi 
 tion was benevolent, he emancipated all his 
 slaves and provided for them. He loved 
 young men, and took delight in directing their 
 reading. Thomas Jefferson, the writer of the 
 Declaration of Independence, John Marshall, 
 *the upholder of the constitution, Henry Clay, 
 jbhe conciliator, all had been students in his 
 Office. What a trinity of talent did Chancellor 
 Wythe foster for his country! And the/ 
 youngest among them was not the least. t"\ 
 At the age of twenty-one, vounp: Clay was/J 
 admitted to the bar. Impatientat once to tf" 
 gain a Targe pi ac tl.c e, he resolved to remove 
 to the new country, so to Lexington, Ken 
 tucky, he migrated, and cast his fortune into 
 the lap of the west. And the west was kind 
 to him. His exuberant nature fitted into 
 her limitless forests, his free and easy grace 
 found ready favor in her unconventional 
 towns, his high spirits were in consonance 
 with her love of adventure, and the kingly 
 grace of his demeanor, devoid of all hauteur, 
 appealed to her love of the distinguished. 
 
i86 Five American Politicians 
 
 Clay was born to be the hero of such a 
 country and the leader of such a people. He 
 was at home among them. His peculiar tal 
 ents were complementary to their curiosi 
 ties. A show of learning they esteemed 
 more than profound scholarship, and Clay s 
 reading had always been wide but not deep. 
 Eloquence they placed above logic, and young 
 Clay practiced with religious diligence in the 
 field, the forest, and the barn, the art that 
 won him a willing hearing wherever he went. 
 Not a day passed without his reciting some 
 piece he had committed to memory. And 
 the smile, the jovial handshake, these people 
 of the west desired above the formal man 
 ners of eastern society. Clay was widely 
 read, was eloquent, was a good fellow. 
 From the first his success was assured. 
 Competence and popularity were soon in his 
 control. 
 
 (JTwo years after his arrival he was made 
 a member of the convention to revise the 
 state s constitution. He introduced a clause 
 providing for the emancipation of the slaves 
 in the state. Clay s naturaJ-imptrlses were 
 always generous. By nature, he was an 
 anti-slavery man. Slavery was merely an 
 expedient with. hini.A Political contingen 
 cies later in life carried him far beyond the 
 convictions of his youth, to the lasting harm 
 of his supreme desire. 
 
 Clay rendered .brilliant service in the state 
 legislature, and in 1806 was appointed to 
 
Henry Clay 187 
 
 serve an 
 
 senatgz ffe~~was the youngest member ever 
 received into that august body, for he 
 lacked three months and^seventeen days of 
 being thirty years old. fl| It is remarkable 
 that no objection waS 1 interposed to his tak 
 ing the oath. The first speech made by the 
 young senator was prophetic of the obedi 
 ence his oratory would command. It ad 
 vocated the building of a bridge across the; 
 Potomac. And his first bill foretold one of 
 the great issues he would espouse. It pro 
 vided for the building of a canal around the 
 rapids of the Ohio river. The boy orator 
 was from the first a chajn^ipji^f^^srBal 
 improvement. 
 
 His term in the senate lasted only a few 
 months, but in 1809 he was again appointed 
 to fill a two-year vacancy. At once he as 
 sumed the floor leadership in the great de 
 bate in the Florida question.. 
 
 But a more important contest was at hand. 
 He changed the scene of his activities from 
 the senate to the house, to which he had 
 been elected in i STT^anct" the subject of his 
 combat from tHe intrusions upon Florida 
 to the indignities offered American seamen 
 by European frigates. Clay was now thirty- 
 four years old and the chief of the aggressive 
 Jeffersonian Republicans. His incompar 
 able parliamentary talents required no ap 
 prenticeship. He was immediately and 
 gladly accepted as leader, and forthwith 
 
1 88 Five American Politicians 
 
 elected speaker. This is perk&ps the only 
 instance in our history where a young man 
 was accorded this unusual honor in the very 
 first term of his service in the national house. 
 
 The issues of a war with Great Britain 
 were peculiarly alluring to Clay, and his en 
 vironment in the house lent every aid to his 
 talents. The old generation had mostly 
 passed away. Young men, who did not 
 carry arms against England in the War for 
 Independence, were thronging public life. 
 These young men, ardent in love, intense in 
 hate, unbounded in ambition for their coun 
 try, were Clay s associates. The conserva 
 tive east no longer monopolized opinion and 
 controlled action. A young and spirited 
 west had crossed the nation s threshhold and 
 took its place beside its elders in the councils 
 of the land. Clay was the incarnation of 
 this restless spirit of growth. His luxuri- 
 ~ ant imagination thrived on the contempla 
 tion of his country s future. He loved 
 action, and despised contemplation. Im 
 pulse, rather than reason, led him on. Pa 
 triotism was to him an instinct as powerful 
 as the instinct of self-preservation. With 
 intense passion he hurled himself into the 
 arena. 
 
 Josiah Quincy was the leader of the Feder 
 alists who opposed war. He called Clay 
 and his adherents "very young politicians, 
 their pin feathers not yet grown, and, how 
 ever they may flutter on this floor, they are 
 
Henry Clay 189 
 
 not yet fledged for any high or distant flight, 
 who think that threats and appealing to fear 
 are the ways of producing any disposition to 
 negotiate in Great Britain or in any other 
 nation which understands what it owes to its 
 own safety and honor." The young pat 
 riot s pin feathers may not have been fledged 
 but his powerful beak was fully developed 
 and perfectly capable of tearing Quincy s 
 terrific arraignment limb from limb. The 
 Federalists laid themselves open to the se 
 vere charge of being unpatriotic. This was 
 the lofty theme of Clay s reply. And no 
 other theme could play upon the gamut of 
 his talents, as could this one. It swept 
 every chord of imagination, of argument, of 
 passion, of invective, of appeal. Its in 
 spiring words resounded through the whole 
 country. He closed by saying that "an 
 honorable peace is attainable only by an 
 efficient war. My plan would be to call out 
 the ample resources of the country, give 
 them a judicious direction, prosecute the 
 war with the utmost vigor, strike wherever 
 we can reach the enemy, at sea and on land, 
 and negotiate the terms of peace at Quebec 
 or at Halifax. We are told that England 
 is a proud and lofty nation, which, disdain 
 ing to wait for danger, meets it half way. 
 Haughty as she is, we once triumphed over 
 her, and if we do not listen to the councils of 
 timidity and despair, we shall again prevail. 
 On such a cause, with the aid of Providence, 
 
190 Five American Politicians 
 
 we must come out crowned with success. 
 But if we fail, let us fail like men, lash our 
 selves to our gallant tars, and expire to 
 gether in one common struggle, fighting for 
 free trade and seamen s rights." 
 
 The war was almost a failure. Clay was 
 permitted to help gather the harvest his war 
 had reaped. Together with John Quincy 
 Adams, Bayard, Jonathan Russell and Al 
 bert Gallatin, he was sent to Ghent to nego 
 tiate a peace. It was a miserable harvest 
 that they garnered. The war was virtually 
 barren of substantial results. To Clay s 
 political ambitions it was laden with apples 
 of Sodom. The battle of New Orleans, 
 fought after the truce had been announced, 
 like a child born out of season, gave to the 
 nation a war hero, Andrew Jackson. Three 
 times he stood between Clay and the White 
 House. Thus did the war, the creation of 
 Clay s fervor, bring forth a hero, the de 
 stroyer of Clay s ambition. 
 
 Upon his return to the United States, 
 Clay was immediately reflected to congress. 
 The president offered him the ambassador 
 ship to Russia, and the war portfolio, but he 
 preferred to be speaker. The years that fol 
 lowed were years of plenty. The era of 
 good feeling was an era of commercial and 
 territorial development. To Clay it offered- 
 / an opportunity to exploit his great pro- 
 I gram of internal improvements, the tariff, 
 and a national bank. These policies were 
 
Henry Clay 191 
 
 inspired by his vast conception of the fu 
 ture of America, and illumined by the burn-S / $ 
 ing ardor of his patriotism. Turnpikes and 
 canals were to bind the states into closer 
 communion, protective duties were to fos 
 ter infant industries, a national bank was to 
 afford security against private chicane and 
 public rashness. During these years he also 
 espoused the cause of the South American 
 Icountries which were struggling for their 
 j iberties. His lukewarm attitude toward 
 "the administration was converted into en 
 thusiasm by the Monroe doctrine. In all of 
 these causes he was the leader. His mag 
 nificent voice was heard in every debate, his 
 skill directed every movement. 
 
 The era of good feeling came to a sudden 
 end by the Missouri controversy, which 
 lifted the ghastly spectre of slavery into full 
 view and made Henry Clay the leader of the 
 nation s hope. 
 
 It is remarkable how soon the people ap 
 parently forgot the significance of this strug 
 gle. The day before the final vote on the 
 compromise, they were threatening each 
 other with destruction. The day after they 
 locked arms in the joyful procession of peace. 
 But upon the politics of the day the slavery 
 debate made a lasting impression. The 
 Missouri question was the first rude shock 
 given to our political retort, and it set in mo- J // 
 tion the invisible particles of political con 
 viction which ultimately crystallized into 
 
192 Five American Politicians 
 
 new parties. From that time forth the 
 political molecules were rearranging them 
 selves about the central axes of slavery and 
 emancipation. It took several decades to 
 perfect the realignment. The transition 
 period was one of coalition, of makeshifts, of 
 expedients. It was the period of Whigism. 
 
 In 1823, after a brief voluntary retirement 
 from public life, Clay was returned to the 
 house and at once made speaker. The Ken- 
 / tucky legislature in November, 1822, had 
 \ nominated him for the presidency. It was 
 then, as a presidential candidate, that he as 
 sumed the speakership. From this time 
 forth there were two Henry Clays. One, 
 Clay the statesman, the other, Clay the pres 
 idential candidate. The one always stood 
 in the way of the other. That glittering, ir- 
 ridescent bubble, the presidential office, 
 floated constantly before his vision. 
 
 Yet his first campaign for the high office 
 was his best. He kept his ambitions well 
 within control. He avoided all dualism, 
 and appealed to the confidence of his fellow- 
 citizens by the earnest and outspoken ad 
 vocacy of great causes. And his causes 
 were internal improvement and the tariff. 
 j~ With winning voice and gorgeous imagery 
 he portrayed the development of our vast 
 resources. 
 
 The severest struggle of the session was 
 on his tariff measure. He made one of the 
 
_ Henry Clay _ 193 
 
 greatest speeches of his life in defense of his 
 bill. It was a wonderful debate. Daniel 
 Webster and Henry Clay opposed to each 
 other in the arena of appeal and argument, 
 would call forth all the cohorts of logic and 
 eloquence. Clay was the erratic, brilliant, 
 flashing lightning, Webster the lowering, 
 dark visaged storm. Clay cleverly rein 
 forced his arguments with an appeal to 
 patriotism, a favorite resort of orators, by 
 christening his protection policy "The 
 American System," as opposed to the oppo 
 sition policy, "The Foreign System." 
 "American" versus "Foreign," could be 
 understood by the multitude who had the 
 ballot. This debate added to Clay s swell 
 ing popularity. He was prepared for the 
 campaign. 
 
 There was nominally only one party, and 
 it presented four candidates to the people. 
 
 First in political intrigue and that peculiar 
 sagacity required of the simon-pure poli 
 ticians, stood Crawford. He had an in 
 flated reputation for greatness, which sud 
 denly collapsed when the ballots were count 
 ed. History can do no greater service to his 
 memory than to say he ran against Adams 
 and Clay. Second in the list was Andrew 
 Jackson, the hero of New Orleans, grim, un 
 relenting, always in a fight with some one, 
 the first military chieftain who had dared to 
 present himself as a candidate for the Pres 
 idency. Third, came John Quincy Adams, 
 
 
194 Five American Politicians 
 
 who, through a long life of continuous 
 and conspicuous public service had prepared 
 himself for the high office he sought. His 
 were the cold austerity of the Puritan, the dis 
 tant formality of the scholar, the private 
 virtues of the purist. And finally, Henry 
 Clay, the ardent, impulsive impressionist, 
 the son of the boundless west, whose glow 
 ing sun had touched his life with a redolent 
 glow, and whose limitless acreage had in 
 spired in him a faith in his country that knew 
 no limitations. Clay was not only popular, 
 he was great. He was not only an incom 
 parable orator, he was an adroit politician. 
 He was not merely the painter of fantasie, 
 he was also the builder of causes. 
 
 Crawford had been nominated by the cau 
 cus, the machine. He was the "regular" 
 candidate. Adams was put forward by 
 New England. He was the old-fashioned 
 candidate. Jackson was nominated by a 
 few political henchmen, who thought they 
 could use his military reputation for their 
 own gain. He was the hero candidate. 
 Clay was named by his state, and by Ohio 
 and Missouri. He was the people s candi 
 date. 
 
 Jackson and Crawford made active can 
 vasses for the election. Jackson s candi 
 dacy and campaign is a singular example 
 of how the public can be led into hero wor 
 ship; how a candidate can be built up, like 
 a brick house, piece by piece, of inconsider- 
 
Henry Clay 195 
 
 able particles, and presented as a finished 
 product to a wondering multitude. To Ma 
 jor Lewis, of Tennessee, Jackson owed the 
 architecture of his candidacy. There never 
 lived a more astute political manipulator. 
 He knew all the little doubtful tricks of pol 
 itics, and the gullibility of the people. The 
 story of his treatment of Jackson s case is 
 more akin to romance than to history. 
 
 Adams made no canvass. It was far be 
 neath him to intrigue for office and especially 
 the highest office in the land. He would not 
 even cooperate with his friends to aid his 
 election. Clay did encourage his friends to 
 work for him, but he scorned to use any 
 other means to help himself. 
 
 It was not a campaign of issues, for there 
 were none. The discussion centered around 
 the candidates. Thus it became a campaign 
 of personalities. Adams wrote: "It seems 
 as if every liar and columniator in the coun 
 try was at work day and night to destroy 
 my character." All candidates were sub 
 ject to like infamy and scandal. It would 
 have been surprising if, under the circum 
 stances, any one of the quartette had re 
 ceived a majority. There was no popular 
 choice. Jackson had 99 electoral votes, 
 Adams 84, Crawford 41, Clay 37. The 
 House of Representatives had to choose be 
 tween the highest three. The buoyant dis 
 position of Clay was deeply hurt because he 
 was not one of the three. To add to the bit- 
 
196 Five American Politicians 
 
 terness of defeat, it was rumored that he had 
 been cheated out of five votes in Louisiana 
 by a dastardly trick in the legislature. This 
 would have given him precedence over Craw 
 ford. 
 
 From presiden1>seeker he was now trans 
 formed into the more powerful president- 
 maker. His wish would determine who 
 should receive his electoral votes and be 
 come President. Consequently he became 
 the most sought and most lauded man in 
 Washington. Even petulant Jackson for 
 got the Florida episode and warmed up to 
 his erstwhile enemy. But Clay had made 
 up his mind as soon as the votes had been 
 counted. There was only one thing for him 
 to do. He could not vote for Crawford, 
 now a paralytic. Nor for Jackson, whose 
 qualifications he thought lay alone in his mil 
 itary prowess. "I cannot/ 7 he wrote to 
 Francis Brooke, "consent in this early 
 stage of their existence, by contributing to 
 the election of a military chieftain, to give 
 . the strongest guaranty that the Republic 
 will march in the fatal road which has 
 conducted every other republic to ruin." 
 And to Blair: "I cannot believe that the 
 killing of 2,500 Englishmen at New Orleans 
 qualifies for the various difficult and com 
 plicated duties of the chief magistracy." 
 
 When the Jackson men began to suspect 
 this, they tried to frighten Clay into doing 
 their bidding. The election was set for 
 
Henry Clay 197 
 
 February ninth. On January twenty-eighth, 
 a Philadelphia paper printed a letter from 
 Washington in which it was specifically as 
 serted that Clay and Adams had entered into 
 a bargain, whereby Adams >vas to make Clay 
 secretary of state in return for Clay s votes. ; 
 The high-spirited Clay answered by a public 
 note in which he denounced the writer as a f\^ 
 " base and infamous calumniator, and dastard 
 and liar," and challenged him to a duel. It 
 turned out that George Kremer, of Pennsyl- 
 ^ vania, was the writer of the note. Now, this 
 Kremer was one of your insignificant, il 
 literate, impecunious runts, who occasion 
 ally get sent to Congress. He was known in 
 Washington by the many colors of his coat, 
 and was perfectly capable of being made the 
 tool of villainy. Of course, when the writer 
 was disclosed, the humor of the occasion 
 drew the laugh on the haughty Clay. But 
 there was more tragedy than humor in the 
 event. Clay withdrew his challenge on 
 the floor of the house, and asked for an in 
 vestigating committee. The frightened sim 
 pleton backed down, and asked Clay if a re 
 traction would be sufficient. Clay said 
 "No; the affair is now in the hands of the 
 committee." On the very day the votes 
 were to be counted, the committee reported 
 that Kremer had sent in a letter refusing to 
 testify. 
 
 History has revealed that the dolt Kremer 
 was used as a cat s-paw by the unscrupulous 
 
198 Five American Politicians 
 
 Lewis, and by Senator Eaton, of Tennessee, 
 the Jackson managers. They had writ 
 ten the letter to the Philadelphia paper, they 
 had been disconcerted by Clay s appeal to 
 the house; they then wrote the letter to the 
 committee, Kremer willingly signing their 
 literary lies. 
 
 Thus did the wicked imaginings of two 
 coarse and utterly unscrupulous politicians 
 give birth to a canard, a campaign lie that 
 haunted a great and good man to his grave. 
 For the cry of "bargain and corruption," 
 was raised whenever Henry Clay was a can 
 didate for the Presidency. He could not ex 
 plain it away, he could not live it down. 
 Such is the vitality of a popular lie. Such 
 the degradation of politicians, and such the 
 simplicity of the people. 
 
 Clay was always adverse to bargains. 
 They were not part of his political machin 
 ery. He had written to Francis Brooke 
 early in 1833: "On one resolution my 
 friends must rest assured I will firmly rely, 
 and that is, to participate in no intrigues, to 
 enter into no arrangements, to make no 
 promises or pledges, but that, whether I am 
 elected or not, I will have nothing to re 
 prove myself with." 
 
 That he fully lived up to this admirable 
 resolution is true. But he also gave color 
 to the cry of bargain, when he accepted the 
 secretaryship of state under the new Presi 
 dent. Then did his enemies point their 
 
Henry Clay 199 
 
 gaunt fingers at him and cry: "I told you 
 so." 
 
 The traditions of the House of Representa 
 tives give to Clay the first place among its 
 galaxy of noted speakers. For fourteen 
 years, excepting several inconsiderable in 
 terruptions, he had presided continuously 
 over its deliberations. Never had one of his 
 decisions been reversed. Through the tu 
 mult of the Florida episode, the rancor of 
 the Missouri controversy, the turmoil of tar 
 iff and internal improvement debates, he 
 guided the affairs of the house v/ith calm and 
 steady hand. Absolute self-possession, ex 
 act knowledge of parliamentary laws,prompt- 
 ness in decision, dignified courtesy and uni 
 versal impartiality united to make him a 
 great speaker. He made an ideal parlia 
 mentarian, and he knew it. With reluc 
 tance did he give up the congenial role of 
 speaker to assume the irksome duties of sec 
 retary of state. To Brooke he writes: "I 
 -have an unaffected repugnance to any exec 
 utive employment, and my rejection of the 
 offer, if it were in conformity with their [his 
 friends ] deliberate judgment, would have 
 been more compatible with my feelings than 
 its acceptance." 
 
 During the four years of his premiership 
 the political alignment that had been made 
 inevitable by the stirring events of the pre 
 vious decade took visible form. There was 
 
2oo Five American Politicians 
 
 no issue around which these diverse elements 
 would rally. The one Great Issue was avoid 
 ed by both. So men, not causes, became the 
 nuclei of the new political concretions. Is 
 sues were evolved later. Indeed, at this 
 formative period, all the leaders professed 
 to believe about the same thing. Jackson 
 had written a letter in 1824, affirming his 
 faith in protection; he had not appeared 
 hostile to the bank, and had voted for some 
 internal improvements. 
 
 The differentiation of issues was inevit 
 able, however, because two elements hostile 
 in philosophy were lurking behind the po 
 litical leaders. The Great Issue was fought 
 out on the question of Nationalism versus 
 Sectionalism. The political philosophy that 
 underlay the issue was state rights versus fed 
 eral rights, and the constitutional philosophy 
 that supported these diverse views was 
 strict construction versus loose construction. 
 A believer in slavery would naturally be a 
 state-rights man, and a strict construction- 
 alist. A believer in slavery restriction placed 
 the union above the state, nor could he deem 
 a narrow adhesion to the constitution a virtue. 
 
 But neither political philosophy nor con 
 stitutional theories are the motives that 
 prompt a people to action. They do not 
 think so deeply. More superficial must be 
 the motive that will arouse them to action. 
 The profound depths of national conviction 
 that in the lapse of years determine a na- 
 
Henry Clay 201 
 
 tion s destiny, are not apparent to the super 
 ficial observer or the hysterical ballot ven 
 dor. But the great depths support the tu 
 multuous waves of the surface, they bear 
 on their bosom the onward sweep of re 
 sistless tides. The petty fro things of an hour, 
 the selfish passions of party leaders, the cruel 
 superficiality of the unthinking are but triv 
 ial events in the majestic progress of the tide 
 of self-government. 
 
 It is decreed that to give practical aspect 
 to a political movement, there must be a 
 personality to rally the fancies and passions 
 of the people; there must be a slogan to 
 please their ears and deceive their under 
 standing into the belief that it represents a 
 profound issue. But in the end, the people 
 will be right. It took nearly a century to 
 fight out the Great Issue. It was dodged, 
 evaded, avoided, until the fullness of time 
 arrived, then it was settled. 
 
 We will trace the political events that led 
 almost to this consummation. 
 
 On October 13, 1825, Jackson resigned 
 from the senate and accepted the nomina 
 tion for President tendered him by the legis 
 lature of Tennessee. Thus he began a three 
 years campaign. His platform was "The 
 corruption of the Adams administration," 
 his slogans were "Bargain and corruption," 
 and "Turn the rascals out!" His motive 
 was no doubt sincere, but it assumed the 
 shape of vindictive revenge. 
 
2O2 Five American Politicians 
 
 It was not long before opportunity offered 
 itself to bring the Jackson partisans upon 
 the constitutional theory which was their 
 true platform. President Adams earnestly 
 advocated internal improvements. As a 
 matter of course his enemies opposed him. 
 This raised the issue of the constitutionality 
 of his recommendations. He said that it is 
 implied in the constitution that the govern 
 ment has plenary power to develop our na 
 tional resources. He was answered that what 
 powers were not definitely delegated to the 
 national government reposed with the vari 
 ous states. Thus the leopard showed his 
 spots. 
 
 The struggle between congress and the 
 administration grew daily in bitterness. 
 Vindictive John Randolph, the viper of Vir 
 ginia, called the administration "the coali 
 tion of Bilfel and Black George, the combina 
 tion, unheard of till then, of the Puritan with 
 the Black Leg." Clay indiscreetly chal 
 lenged Randolph to a duel for this public 
 slander. The Virginian shot into the air, 
 Clay put a hole through Randolph s coat. 
 Benton then brought about a formal con 
 ciliation. 
 
 While the opposition had settled them 
 selves upon the constitutional formula of 
 strict construction, they by no means aban 
 doned the popular method of warfare. Their 
 harangues upon the constitutionality of in 
 ternal improvements did not interest the 
 
Henry Clay 203 
 
 people. Again and again did they dig open 
 the grave of "bargain and corruption/ after 
 Clay and his friends had thought they had 
 buried the slander deep, effectually and for 
 ever. The shroud was unwound and the 
 ghastly decaying corpse displayed to full 
 view. Sight and stench were to drive the 
 people into a frenzy. And the politicians 
 succeeded. 
 
 Jackson himself now believed the lie. On 
 his way from congress, in 1824, he was greet 
 ed at Washington, Pa., by a group of ad 
 mirers. One of them, an aged farmer, said 
 to him: "Well, General, we did all we 
 could for you here, but the rascals at Wash 
 ington cheated you out of it." Jackson re 
 plied: "Indeed, my old friend, there was 
 cheating, and corruption and bribery, too." 
 When Jackson ^ faith once gripped an idea 
 it never let go. 
 
 As the canvass between Adams and Jack 
 son advanced, the fury and frenzy of the 
 politicians increased. The stump reeked 
 with slander. Letters and pamphlets fell 
 over the land like snowflakes. David Trim 
 ble wrote a dissertation of forty pages, re 
 viewing the evidences of the slander. And 
 people read those things. Floyd, of Vir 
 ginia, told his constituents they were "now 
 engaged in a great war, a war of patronage 
 and power against patriotism of the people." 
 How strange this alliteration reads in the 
 light of the Jackson reign of proscription! 
 
2O4 Five American Politicians 
 
 Day after day, line upon line, the Jackson 
 press reiterated in staring headlines the cry 
 of " Bargain and Corruption," until it seemed 
 the people should have turned, nauseated 
 by the sight. 
 
 The debates in congress were turned into 
 the most scurrilous stump speeches. 
 
 This strange campaign of no issues was 
 fought with weapons of slander and preju 
 dice. 
 
 Its outcome was significant of the pro 
 found changes that had come over the Re 
 public since the days of Federalism. Jack 
 son received 178 votes, Adams 83. Clay, 
 not Adams, was the center of attack. He 
 could not move in any capacity without be 
 ing preeminent. Yet the crushing results 
 of the election, while they dismayed him 
 for the moment, did not veil the presidential 
 office from -his gaze. Before he retired from 
 the cabinet he made inquiry of Edward 
 Everett whether New England would sup 
 port him in 1832. Restless spirit that pos 
 sessed his soul, like a never satiated wander 
 lust. 
 
 On his way home from Washington, 
 Adams spoke these words for his secretary 
 of state: 
 
 " Upon him the foulest slanders have been 
 showered. The department of the state 
 itself was a station which, by its bestowal, 
 could confer neither profit nor honor upon 
 him, but upon which he has shed unfading 
 
Henry Clay 205 
 
 honor by the manner in which he has dis 
 charged his duties. Prejudice and passion 
 have charged him with obtaining that office 
 by bargain and corruption. Before you, my 
 fellow citizens, in the presence of our country 
 and heaven, I pronounce that charge 1x> 
 tally unfounded. As to my motives for ten 
 dering him the department of state, when 
 I did, let the man who questions them come 
 forward. Let him look around among the 
 statesmen and the legislators of the nation 
 and of that day. Let him then select and 
 name the man whom, by his preeminent 
 talents, by his splendid services, by his ar 
 dent patriotism, by his all embracing public 
 spirit, by his fervid eloquence in behalf of 
 the rights and liberties of mankind, by his 
 long experience in the affairs of the Union, 
 foreign and domestic, a President of the 
 United States, intent only upon the honor 
 and welfare of his country, ought to have 
 preferred to Henry Clay." 
 
 This was the best praise Clay ever received. 
 For Adams was not given to exuberance and 
 he was as critical as he was scrupulous. But 
 the people would not believe even John 
 Quincy Adams. 
 
 The antagonistic elements were now com 
 pletely separated. The Jacksonians, united 
 by victory and under the sway of a political 
 despot, presented the front of a real party. 
 Three years of perfect party discipline had 
 ranged them into compact ranks. They 
 
206 Five American Politicians 
 
 had everything to make a party except issues. 
 They had a leader, they had an organization, 
 they had a victory, and with such a leader 
 as theirs they were not long in finding a cause. 
 
 There were now in reality two parties, but 
 each claimed to be the genuine old Republi 
 can or Democratic party. The Jacksonians 
 called themselves the Democratic Republi 
 cans, the Clay-Adams followers the National 
 Republicans. All old party alignments 
 had ceased. Jeffersonians were in both ranks, 
 and in each were found remnants of the Fed- 
 deralists. The new alignment was complete. 
 
 These new armies were led by two leaders 
 as different as day and night. Jackson was 
 always fanatic; Clay was rarely dogmatic. 
 Jackson ruled with the imperium of will; 
 Clay swayed with the magic of eloquence. 
 Jackson was a man of hate; Clay was a man 
 of love. Not to agree with Jackson was to 
 call upon you the retribution of his mighty 
 anger. Not to agree with Clay was to invite 
 his smile and his most beguiling arguments. 
 Jackson believed that every man who did 
 not believe in him was a traitor to the flag; 
 Clay believed that every man who loved 
 the flag was a friend of intellectual freedom. 
 Jackson was all thunder and lightning and 
 destructive tornado; Clay was all sunshine 
 and dew and gentle rain. Jackson was terri 
 ble; Clay was magnificent. Jackson in 
 spired trembling fear and deadly hate; Clay 
 called forth all the hosts of confidence and 
 
Henry Clay 207 
 
 affection. Jackson was commanding; Clay 
 was gallant. Jackson compelled; Clay at 
 tracted. Yet they were similar. Both 
 were "men of the people"; both were wor 
 shipped by the masses ; both were called upon 
 as the saviour of the land; both shared the 
 fatuation of a devoted following; both were 
 richly endowed with the gift of personal 
 magnetism. 
 
 The election brought to Clay a welcome 
 retirement. Before he left Washington, he 
 was given a dinner. The toast he proposed 
 signifies the feelings which were inspired by 
 the election of Jackson. This was the toast: 
 "Let us never despair of the American Re 
 public." In reply he said: "I deprecated 
 the election of the present President of the 
 United States because I believed he had 
 neither the temper, the experience, nor the 
 attainments requisite to discharge the compli 
 cated and arduous duties of the chief magis 
 trate. I deprecated it still more because his 
 elevation, I believed, wou]d be the result ex 
 clusively of admiration and gratitude for mili 
 tary service, without regard to indispensable 
 civil qualifications. I thought I beheld in his 
 election an awful foreboding of the fate 
 which at some future (I pray God that if it 
 ever arises it be at some far distant) day 
 was to befall this infant republic." But he 
 closes his rather doleful strain by gallantly 
 professing that he will respect the victor 
 " as the chief magistrate of my country." 
 
208 Five American Politicians 
 
 His journey home was a series of ovations. 
 Everywhere he was met by the outpouring 
 of the populace, and the most flattering evi 
 dences of personal devotion. At Frederick, 
 Md., he said, at a dinner in his honor: "I 
 quit the public councils, not only without 
 any personal regrets, but with the highest 
 of all human consolation, that which is not 
 only superior to any other, but the want of 
 which cannot be compensated by the united 
 possessions of all others, which lies deeply 
 embossed in the heart, beyond the reach of 
 human injustice, the consciousness of having 
 faithfully, zealously and consistently dis 
 charged my public duties." This was fer 
 vently believed by a large mass of his fellow 
 citizens, but a larger mass as religiously be 
 lieved he had cheated Jackson out of victory 
 four years before. 
 
 When he reached his own Lexington a 
 monster meeting was gathered to greet him 
 as neighbor. To these dear friends he 
 always spoke with sincere feeling. This was 
 their sentiment: "Our distinguished guest, 
 friend and neighbor, Henry Clay: with in 
 creased proof of his worth, we delight to re 
 new the assurance of our confidence in his pa 
 triotism, talents, and incorruptibility; may 
 health and happiness attend him and a 
 grateful nation do justice to his virtues." 
 In his response Clay made an elaborate de 
 fense of his attitude toward Jackson, pointed 
 out that there was no bargain and no cor- 
 
Henry Clay 209 
 
 ruption, and denounced the President for 
 his wholesale slaughter of federal officials. 
 He closed the speech, one of the best of his 
 efforts, with personal allusions that reveal 
 the true heart of the man: "And now, my 
 friends and fellow citizens, I cannot part 
 from you on possibly this last occasion of 
 my ever publicly addressing you, without 
 reiterating the expressions of my thanks 
 from a heart overflowing with gratitude. I 
 came among you now more than thirty years 
 ago, an orphan boy, penniless, stranger to 
 you all, without friends, without the favor 
 of the great. You took me up, cherished 
 me, caressed me, protected me, honored me. 
 You have constantly poured upon me a bold 
 and unabated stream of innumerable favors. 
 Time, which wears out everything, has in 
 creased and strengthened your affection for 
 me. When I seem deserted by almost the 
 whole world, and assailed by almost every 
 tongue and pen, you have fearlessly and 
 manfully stood by me with unsurpassed 
 zeal and undiminished friendship. When I 
 felt as if I should sink beneath the storm of 
 abuse and detraction which was violently 
 raging around me, I have found myself up 
 held and sustained by your encouraging 
 voice and your approving smiles. I have 
 doubtless committed many faults and indis 
 cretions, over which you have thrown the 
 broad mantle of your charity. But I can 
 say, and in the presence of God, and of this 
 
 14 
 
2io Five American Politicians 
 
 assembled multitude, I will say, that I have 
 honestly and faithfully served my country, 
 that I have never wronged it, and that how 
 ever unprepared I lament that I am to ap 
 pear in the Divine Presence on other ac 
 counts, I invoke the stern justice of His 
 judgment on my public conduct without the 
 smallest apprehension of His displeasure." 
 
 These confessions as to his patriotic mo 
 tives and integrity, made to his neighbors, are 
 sustained by history. But to the public at 
 large, his utterances did not carry convic 
 tion. The public has no mercy on a man 
 who must prove that he is an honest man. 
 Clay s enemies saw to it that for thirty years 
 he was placed on this defense. 
 
 Nor could Clay remain in retirement. A 
 number of times in his career did he resolve 
 to retire to his beloved " Ashland / each 
 time the call of the state and the impulse of 
 talent broke his resolution. At this time 
 he devoted himself to the cultivation of his 
 estate, the breeding of fine animals, and the 
 writing of letters. In 1830 he journeyed 
 south, to New Orleans and Natchez. As 
 always, his progress was marked by balls, 
 receptions, dinners, processions, triumphs, 
 In the summer of the same year he traveled 
 northward through Ohio. Farms and towns 
 were deserted to do him honor. At Cincin 
 nati he was feted by the mechanics, and he 
 spoke freely on the tariff. Of the charges 
 against his character, he appealed to his 
 
Henry Clay 211 
 
 auditors: "People of Ohio, here assembled, 
 mothers, daughters, sons, sires, when resting 
 on the peaceful pillow of repose and con 
 ning within your hearts, ask yourselves if I 
 ought to be the unremitting object of per 
 petual calumny. If, when the opponents of 
 the late President gained the victory on the 
 4th of March, 1829, the war ought not to 
 have ceased, quarters been granted and 
 prisoners released? Did not these oppo 
 nents obtain all the honors and offices and 
 emoluments of the government, the power 
 which they have frequently exercised of 
 removing whom they pleased and punishing 
 whom they could, was that not sufficient? 
 Does it all avail not whilst Mordecai the Jew 
 stands at the King s gate?" 
 
 It availed not. The one upon whom the 
 special punishment should fall was Clay, and 
 Clay was an immortal foe, he could not be 
 stricken. The persecution must therefore 
 continue. 
 
 The old ambition was again the ferment 
 in Clay s mind. His princely receptions de 
 ceived him. "I have had," he writes a 
 friend, "literally a free passage. Taverns, 
 stages, toll gates, have been formally thrown 
 open to me, free from all charge. Monarchs 
 might be proud of the reception with which 
 I have everywhere been honored." And he 
 says to one of his great audiences: "My 
 journey has been marked by a succession of 
 civil triumphs. I have been escorted from 
 
212 Five American Politicians 
 
 village to village, and have everywhere 
 found myself surrounded by large con 
 courses of my fellow citizens, often of both 
 sexes, greeting and welcoming me." 
 
 It is not to be wondered that the sanguine 
 candidate misinterpreted these flattering 
 demonstrations. He thought they foretold 
 the downfall of Jackson. Had he been 
 clearer sighted, he would have perceived 
 that Jackson might have followed him over 
 the same route and been the recipient of 
 the same flattery and obeisance. With such 
 evidences of favor, Clay could easily be per 
 suaded to leave the joys of privacy and take 
 a seat in the United States senate, to which 
 he was elected in 1831. 
 
 When he arrived again in Washington, the 
 Jackson Democracy had an issue. The 
 President believed that the United States 
 bank was the enemy of the Republic, for it 
 would not bend to his command. There 
 fore, he directed against it all the poisoned 
 arrows of his quiver. The Calhoun school 
 of strict construction at once perceived that 
 a constitutional argument was at hand. 
 The government had no power to organize 
 and run a banking business. They were be 
 ginning to see more and more clearly that 
 the interests of their own cause demanded 
 strict construction and states-rights. With 
 prompt eagerness they could supplement 
 Jackson s instinct w r ith an argument. When 
 Clay took his seat in the senate he at once 
 
Henry Clay 213 
 
 came to the defense of the bank which had 
 prayed for a renewal of its charter. Bent on, 
 Jackson s spokesman in the senate, could 
 not defeat the bill granting the extension. 
 But Jackson unhesitatingly vetoed the meas 
 ure and sent it beak to congress with an im 
 passioned veto message. The message was 
 not an argument, it was the rhapsody of an 
 angry soul. Neither the majestic thunder 
 of Webster nor the passionate denunciations 
 of Clay, nor the ringing arguments of Ewing, 
 nor the unsparing satire of Clayton, could 
 drown the strains of that veto measure. Its 
 voice rang over the land like a trumpet call, 
 and the people willingly responded to its 
 notes. 
 
 The tariff formed the second issue. Con 
 gress had passed the " tariff ^of abomina 
 tions " the previous session. ^The agricul 
 tural south denounced it, the manufacturing 
 north wanted it. The planters of the slave 
 states were arrayed against the manufactur 
 ers of the free states. The enemies of the 
 tariff made the accumulated surplus in 
 the national treasury the point of their as 
 saults. Jackson, who had been a mild be 
 liever in protection, gradually became sus 
 picious of a system that could rob the farmer 
 and heap up an idle surplus in the govern 
 ment vaults. It needed but the advent of 
 Henry Clay, as champion of the tariff, to 
 make the President a profound enemy of 
 the "American System." 
 
214 Five American Politicians 
 
 A third issue that the National Republicans 
 kept in the foreground was the "Spoils Sys 
 tem/ as introduced by Jackson. These 
 were the issues. 
 
 There was but one presidential candidate 
 in each party, and on December 12, 1831, in 
 a convention held at Baltimore, Henry Clay 
 was unanimously named by the National 
 Republicans to be their standard bearer. 
 The following May the Democratic conven 
 tion nominated Jackson. 
 
 Against the cry of " Spoils System," the 
 Democrats shouted the old cry of " Bargain 
 and Corruption." Against the arguments 
 for a re-charter of the Bank, they hurled 
 back the ominous words "Monster monop 
 oly." And in reply to the favorite argu 
 ments for the "American System," they 
 pointed to the glittering pile of "surplus." 
 
 Thus the Democrats had the popular side 
 of every question. They very wisely kept 
 Clay in the background. It was not a war 
 fare against the "Gallant Harry of the 
 West," it was a struggle against the powers 
 and principalists of monopoly. The mon 
 eyed robbers of the common people, 
 were the magnified objects of popular wrath. 
 These Democrats had a perfect organization. 
 The skilled hand of Martin Van Buren was 
 felt in every county and village of the land. 
 But more than discipline and popular slo 
 gans, they had a general who had grown in 
 the eyes of the multitude until his stature 
 
Henry Clay 215 
 
 filled all space. He was no longer "Old 
 Hickory." To the backwoodsman and the 
 plainsman he was a demi-god, under whose 
 almighty sword must fall all the enemies of 
 mankind. 
 
 Little wonder that the Imperator of Dem 
 ocracy should receive 219 electoral votes, 
 while his brilliant adversary could count 
 only 49. 
 
 To the last the National Republicans had 
 been sanguine. But all the constellations 
 were unfavorable. Clay had displeased the 
 south by his attitude on the tariff, he had 
 alienated the masses by his championship of 
 the bank, he had gained nothing by his ter 
 rible onslaught upon Jackson. He could easily 
 have afforded to have been more conciliating 
 with the planters, to have delayed the bank 
 issue until after the election, and to have 
 banished the words " military dictator," 
 from his lips. Had Henry Clay, the pacifi 
 cator, been running, his humility might have 
 been spared; but Henry Clay, the party 
 cheiftan, was brought down to utter humilia 
 tion by Andrew Jackson, the people s 
 Csesar. 
 
 The shadows of defeat but served to bring 
 out more clearly the brilliance of his genius. 
 Events were transpiring which lifted him 
 from the depths of his humiliations into the 
 splendor of a nation s admiration. Henry 
 Clay is the most defeated and the most ad 
 mired man in our political history. Each 
 
216 Five American Politicians 
 
 defeat seemed but the prelude to greater 
 achievement. 
 
 When he returned to the senate the coun 
 try was confronted by a novel theory that 
 threatened disaster. The south had grown 
 sullen under the continued tariff legislation. 
 Her philosophic statesman had formulated 
 her demands into the theory of nullification, 
 arguing that the constitution is only a com 
 pact between sovereign states, and that 
 whenever one of the parties to this compact 
 considers a law passed by Congress unconsti 
 tutional, it has merely to ignore, to "nullify" 
 the law. Here was a new system of polit 
 ical metaphysics. South Carolina was eager 
 to enforce it with the power of arms. "If 
 the tariff law is not repealed, we will nullify 
 it/ was their audacious manifesto. Jack 
 son was a southern man, but his patriotism 
 w T as national. His proclamation in answer 
 to the nullifiers was uncompromising: "I 
 consider the power to annul a law of the 
 United States incompatible with the exist 
 ence of the union, contradicted expressly by 
 the letter of the constitution, and destruct 
 ive of the great objects for w.hich it was 
 formed. Our constitution does not contain 
 the absurdity of giving one power to make 
 laws, and another power to resist them. To 
 say that any state may at pleasure secede 
 from the union, is to say that the United 
 States are not a nation." And in stirring 
 words he warns the rash southerners that 
 
Henry Clay 217 
 
 further resistance would be met by all the 
 power of the general government. 
 
 In their insane self-fatuation, the South 
 Carolinians replied with insolent threats. 
 This infuriated the old patriot, and he asked 
 congress for power to close ports of entry, 
 employ military force, and extend the juris 
 diction of federal courts over all revenue 
 cases. This "Force Bill" the milliners at 
 once called the "Bloody Bill." 
 
 Congress, meanwhile, was busy with the 
 tariff. Verplank had introduced the ad 
 ministration measure into the house, provid 
 ing for general reductions in duties. The 
 manufacturers were fearful of the results, 
 and invaded the capitol. No agreement 
 could be reached. The house was helpless, 
 and the senate was floundering around in con 
 stitutional arguments on the "Force Bill." 
 
 The situation seemed hopeless. A second 
 time one state was holding up the nation. 
 A second time a conciliator appeared. Just 
 twenty days before the final adjournment 
 of congress, Henry Clay, the father of the 
 "American System," who had fought with 
 the energy of a tiger the reduction of tariff 
 in 1832, now introduced a compromise bill 
 providing a reduction of 20 per cent. The 
 manufacturers and politicians were aghast. 
 Had, then, the champion of protection back 
 slidden? 
 
 Clay s heart was in the compromise. He 
 formed his measure with the avowed pur- 
 
218 Five American Politicians 
 
 pose of conciliating the southerners. He 
 loved the union better than a tariff. He 
 dreaded the thought of the military Jack 
 son leading an army into South Carolina. 
 Where would such an invasion end? 
 
 Clay s task was cut out for him. He had 
 first of all to win over his political adher 
 ents ; men who had stood by him in the past 
 campaign, and who now realized that their 
 inflexible attitude toward the planters had 
 brought on the defeat of their favorite candi 
 date. He had also to persuade the manufac 
 turers, whose lobby thronged the corridors. 
 He had finally to win the milliners, whose hot 
 blood was rapidly consuming their reason. 
 Strange anomaly, he won over the Philos 
 opher of Nullification first! Calhoun, 
 champion of state rights, father of seces 
 sion, defender of slavery, was astute enough 
 to see that the compromise was better than 
 the fruitless struggle of one state against the 
 many. He became the first convert. 
 
 His immediate friends Clay won by persua 
 sion, by cajoling, by entreaty, by arguing. 
 But the manufacturers, who had financial 
 interests at stake, could be mollified only by 
 an amendment providing for home valua 
 tion of imports. The amendment, only 
 after the direst threats, was accepted. 
 j The house bill passed the senate first. 
 j Clay ended the debate on his compromise in 
 1 one of his noblest and most fervid appeals. 
 All the glorious powers of the orator were 
 
Henry Clay 219 
 
 lavished upon this cause. He became ani 
 mate with patriotism, as he proceeded to ex 
 plain his motives, and closed in a magnifi 
 cent outburst of feeling: "I have been ac 
 cused of ambition in presenting this meas 
 ure. Ambition ! inordinate ambition ! Low 
 grovelling souls, who are utterly incapable 
 of elevating themselves to the higher and 
 nobler duties of pure patriotism, beings who, 
 forever keeping their own selfish aims in 
 view, decide all public measures by their 
 personal influence in their aggrandizement, 
 judge me by the venal rule which they pre 
 scribe for themselves. I am no candidate 
 for any office in the gift of these states, 
 united or separated. I never wish, or ex 
 pect to be. Pass this bill, tranquillize the 
 country, restore confidence and affection in 
 the union, and I am willing to go to Ashland 
 and renounce public service forever. Yes, 
 I have ambition. But it is the ambition of 
 being the humblest instrument in the hands 
 of Providence, to reconcile a divided people, 
 once more to revive concord and harmony 
 in a distracted land; the pleasing ambition 
 of contemplating the glorious spectacle of a 
 free, united, prosperous and fraternal peo 
 ple." 
 
 The appeal was not in vain. The bill 
 passed both houses, as did the Force Bill, 
 and both received the President s signature. 
 The nullifiers hauled down their insolent 
 banners. The nation breathed freely. Hen- 
 
220 Five American Politicians 
 
 ry Clay was once more the popular idol, the 
 twice crowned Pacificator. 
 
 But while he was thus to behold again 
 "the glorious spectacle of a free and united, 
 prosperous and fraternal people," his com 
 promise had united them only for the mo 
 ment. His superficial way of studying 
 causes had again failed to enlighten him 
 upon the one true wellspring of all this anti- 
 union current. He failed to see that slavery 
 was at the foundation of nullification, as it 
 had been at the bottom of the Missouri agi 
 tation. Slavery was the Great Issue. 
 
 After the adjournment of congress, Pres 
 ident Jackson made a tour of New York 
 and the New England states. He was ev 
 erywhere met by the acclaims of the popu 
 lace. His stout resistance to the nullifiers 
 had won him the sincere admiration of his 
 former enemies. 
 
 A month later Clay, too, journeyed east. 
 It was his first visit to New York since 1818. 
 His tour was accompanied by all the bizarre 
 elements of the progress of a prince. He 
 traveled as a conqueror, not as a defeated can 
 didate. His lady was with him, to share in 
 the honors. Municipalities and farms were 
 deserted to greet the " Gallant Harry/ 
 From town to town he was escorted by com 
 mittees of leading citizens. The booming 
 of cannon announced his approach, bands 
 and parades accompanied his entrance into 
 every town and city. The streets along 
 
Henry Clay 221 
 
 which he traveled were gaily decorated. 
 Everywhere were given balls and receptions 
 and dinners, most of which he had to de 
 cline. At Wilmington, Philadelphia, New 
 York, Providence, and Boston his reception 
 was especially cordial. 
 
 He could write to Brooke on his return: 
 "My journey was full of gratification. In 
 looking back on the scenes through wilich I 
 passed, they seem to me to have resembled 
 those of enchantment more than of real life." 
 
 Thus the rival princes, the " Great Pacifi 
 cator "and the " Conqueror of Nullification" 
 had their rival progresses. The over-san 
 guine Clay again was made buoyant at the 
 sound of universal plaudits; the prospects 
 of another presidential election were bright. 
 
 The Democratic papers dropped a little gall 
 into the cup of sweetness. The Washing 
 ton "Globe" asserted that the United States 
 Bank had paid at least $25,000 " directly 
 into his own pockets to save him from pe 
 cuniary, as well as political bankruptcy." 
 " Having, by duping his followers, se 
 cured a meagre sort of garrison in the Ken 
 tucky legislature, to maintain him at home, 
 he has set forward to make foreign conquest. 
 Taking the cause of the bank in his hand, 
 and probably something else appertaining 
 to it in his pocket, he has marched -upon 
 Boston." 
 
 The New York "Courier" called the 
 "Globe" a "sheet of most infamous char- 
 
222 Five American Politicians 
 
 acter," the "common slanderer of all that 
 is honorable in this country." It was the 
 old cry of bargain and corruption in a new 
 form, and the old, old answer that it was a 
 slander. A greater foe than slander lurked 
 in the rear of that march of triumph. The 
 spirit of slavery entered the serpent of slan 
 der, and crawled unnoticed along the 
 dusty highway in the wake of the Pacifi 
 cator. 
 
 The war between the National Republi 
 cans and the Democrats now took the shape 
 of a feud. The senate, then in its golden 
 age of oratory, attracted excited crowds to 
 the corridors. These masters of debate 
 spoke to the whole country. Everywhere 
 the lines of party were being more closely 
 drawn around the leaders and issues of the 
 presidential campaign that had just closed. 
 The opposition to Jackson now completed 
 jts coalition. It was a coalition of incon 
 gruous fragments, attracted by the negative 
 force of Jackson, into a united opposition. 
 Protectionists from New England voted 
 with nullifiers from the south; anti-Mason 
 radicals worked with conservatives; former 
 federalists under John Quincy Adams, for 
 mer Jeffersonians under Clay, all were 
 brought together under the banner of the 
 opposition. They found their motive in the 
 constantly encroaching powers of the execu 
 tive upon the prerogatives of congress. In a 
 speech of great power, Clay characterized 
 
Henry Clay 223 
 
 this all-pervading energy of the military 
 President : 
 
 "The senate has no army, no navy, no 
 patronage, no lucrative offices, no glittering 
 honors to bestow. Around us there is no 
 swarm of greedy expectants, rendering us 
 homage, anticipating our wishes, and ready 
 to execute our commands. How is it with 
 the President? Is he powerless? He is felt 
 from one extremity to the other of this Re 
 public, by means of principles which he has 
 introduced and innovations which he has 
 made in our institutions. Alas! but too 
 much countenanced by congress and a con 
 fiding people, he exercises uncontrolled the 
 power of the state. In one hand he holds 
 the purse, and in the other brandishes the 
 sword of the country! Myriads of depend 
 ents and partisans scattered over the land 
 are ever ready to sing hosannahs to him, to 
 laud to the skies whatever he does. He has 
 swept over the government like a tropical 
 tornado." 
 
 The coalition now received a name. They 
 called themselves Whigs, and their adver 
 saries they called Tories. Clay was quick to 
 seize the opportunity of a favorable election 
 in New York to expound the sources of these 
 names, and their significance: 
 
 " It was a brilliant and signal triumph for 
 the Whigs. And they have assured for 
 themselves and bestowed on their opponents 
 a denomination which, according to all the 
 
224 Five American Politicians 
 
 analogy of history, is strictly correct. It 
 deserves to be extended throughout the 
 whole country. What was the origin among 
 our British ancestors of these appellations? 
 The Tories were the supporters of executive 
 power, of royal prerogatives, of the maxim 
 that the king could do no wrong, of the de 
 testable doctrine of passive obedience and 
 non-resistance. The Whigs were the cham 
 pions of liberty, the friends of the people, 
 and the defendants of their representatives 
 in the House of Commons. During the Rev 
 olutionary War the Tories took sides with 
 the king against liberty, the Whigs against 
 royal executive power and for freedom and 
 independence. And what is the present 
 but the same contest in another form? The 
 partisans of the present executive sustain 
 his favor in the most boundless extent. The 
 Whigs are opposing executive encroachment 
 and a most alarming extension of executive 
 power and prerogative. They are contend 
 ing for the rights of the people, for free in 
 stitutions, for the supremacy of the consti 
 tution and the laws." 
 
 But were the Whigs contending for free in 
 stitutions? Their coalition could not be 
 lasting, because they were clinging to a tem 
 porary condition; they ignored the Great 
 Issue, the institution of slavery, the great 
 un-free institution. This was the rock upon 
 which they must break; ostensibly, first, 
 because "the supremacy of the constitu- 
 
Henry Clay 225 
 
 tion " involved an interpretation of the lim 
 its of state prerogatives, but ultimately be 
 cause slavery and liberty were the real ques 
 tions of dispute. 
 
 This was apparent even while Clay s 
 words about "free institutions" were pass 
 ing from his lips. The first element of the 
 coalition to detach itself must be the nulli- 
 fiers. They were not contending for "free 
 institutions/ they could not stand "for the 
 supremacy of the constitution/ as inter 
 preted by Webster and Clay. In a few 
 short months Calhoun led his followers back 
 into the exclusive camp of state rights, ulti 
 mately to be absorbed by the Jackson 
 party, body and soul. 
 
 The coalition retained the name of Whigs, 
 but the Jacksonians did not remain Tories. 
 They were termed Democrats, and the name 
 has clung to them. 
 
 The Great Issue was veiled under the 
 more immediate subjects of controversy. 
 The greatest and bitterest of these was over 
 the bank. With stubborn defiance, the 
 Whigs fought inch by inch the encroach 
 ments of the Democrats. The resistless 
 power of the iron President overcame them. 
 The deposits were removed, the bank was 
 not re-chartered. The Whigs were more 
 hopeful in their attacks upon Jackson for 
 his shameless policy of degrading office into 
 political spoils. The tenure of office bill 
 passed the senate by the vote of 31 to 16. 
 
 15 
 
226 Five American Politicians 
 
 Clay had won an ostensible victory, 
 when, on March 28, 1834, the senate 
 passed his resolution censuring the Presi 
 dent for assuming power, "not conferred 
 by the constitution and laws, but in dero 
 gation of both." As Jackson neared the 
 close of his " reign/ his friends enlisted 
 all of their energies to expunge this 
 censure. The passionate gall of personal 
 hate was infused into the debate on 
 the expunging resolution. Webster and 
 Clay, the Hercules and Mars of debate, 
 threw themselves with unwonted fervor 
 into the arena. Clay cried, in his most 
 scorching tones : " What object of his ambi 
 tion is unsatisfied? When disabled from age 
 any longer to hold the scepter of power ; he 
 designates his successor and transmits it to 
 his favorite. What more does he want? 
 Must we blot, deface and mutilate the rec 
 ords of the country to punish the presump- 
 tuousness of expressing an opinion contrary 
 to his own? What patriotic purpose is to 
 be accomplished by this expunging resolu 
 tion? Can you make that not to be which 
 has been? Is it to appease the wrath and 
 to heal the wounded pride of the chief mag 
 istrate? If he really be the hero that his 
 friends represent him, he must despise all 
 mean condescensions, all grovelling syco 
 phancy, all self-degradation, all self-abase 
 ment. He would reject with scorn and 
 contempt, as unworthy of his fame, your 
 
Henry Clay 227 
 
 black scratches and your baby lines in the 
 fair records of his country." 
 
 The lines were drawn, in spite of this skil 
 ful attempt to make them recoil on Jack 
 son s greatness. And the hero did not treat 
 them with contempt and scorn. He was 
 gleeful, and "gave a grand dinner to the ex- 
 pungers and their wives." He knew that 
 commingled with the red ink of these lines 
 was the blood of his bitterest enemy. 
 
 Andrew Jackson left the White House a 
 greater hero than he entered it. He had 
 won every contest; he had endeared himself 
 to the people in spite of his autocracy, 
 his spoils system and his personal vindic- 
 tiveness. 
 
 But the universal prosperity he left be 
 hind him was only a tinsel show built upon 
 the flimsy foundation of paper money. No 
 sooner had he handed over to his chosen suc 
 cessor the sceptre of his power than did the 
 halo of his greatness ignite this tinder of 
 worthless securities, and, in the general con 
 flagration of 1837, perish profit and capital. 
 But the fame of this singular tyrant-hero 
 was fireproof. 
 
 Nor was his reckless sowing of the wind 
 in assuming unwarranted responsibility and 
 in flinging gibes at the supreme court and 
 congress, without its whirlwind harvest. 
 Niles, the quaint and faithful chronicler, 
 wrote in August, 1835: "Many people of 
 the United States are out of joint. A spirit 
 
228 Five American Politicians 
 
 of riot and a disposition to take the law in 
 their own hands prevails in every quarter." 
 To the impulsive and unthinking masses this 
 autocrat transmitted his own spirit of law 
 lessness. While the strong-maned lion still 
 held sway in the forest, the other animals 
 obeyed, but when he was succeeded by the 
 sly fox of Kinderhook, anarchy joined panic 
 and the whole land was in dire distress. 
 
 The incoherent nature of the Whig party 
 was manifest in the presidential campaign 
 of 1836. They held no national convention, 
 they presented no united front. In some 
 states William Henry Harrison was support 
 ed, while the southern wing put forward 
 Hugh L. White. Clay was not prominent 
 in the campaign. His defeat four years be 
 fore had dampened the ardor of the practical 
 politicians and Clay was very sensitive about 
 it. He resented any insinuations that an 
 other Whig could make a better candidate. 
 His presidential disease was now chronic. 
 The microbe had eaten into his soul. It 
 made him dejected. He wrote to his friends 
 that he thought of retiring. Domestic af 
 fliction and financial trouble hastened him 
 to this conclusion. But he did not retire. 
 The lure of the great prize was too potent. 
 The crisis that had borne so heavily on the 
 Democrats, rejuvenated the Whigs, and 
 Henry Clay became a candidate for the 
 nomination in 1840, long before VanBuren s 
 first year had drawn to a close. The great 
 
Henry Clay 229 
 
 personal tilt with Calhoun, who had entirely 
 broken away from the coalition, served to 
 keep the brilliant orator before the public 
 eye. 
 
 The Whig coalition in the meantime was 
 augmented by recruits from erstwhile Jack- 
 sonians, many of whom were against inter 
 nal improvements, against a high tariff, 
 against a bank, but who rebelled against 
 Van Buren s sub-treasury measure. Now, 
 Clay, the candidate, set himself to the task 
 of convincing these newest additions to his 
 loosely woven political fabric, that he was 
 really not an extremist in tariff. The com 
 promise of 1833 suited him very well. He 
 believed the government should not charter 
 another bank until the people asked for it; 
 that congress really was not called upon to 
 aid the further building of internal improve 
 ments, because the states were enabled to 
 do so by the distribution act. To the slav 
 ery men in his party, Clay threw a sop 
 dipped in the rancor of an anti-abolition 
 speech which he had made before the Ameri 
 can Colonization Society in Washington in 
 1835, and which he virtually repeated in 
 Congress two years later. The great pacifi-] 
 cator compromised with his convictions to 
 gain the presidency. Of all compromises, 
 this is the least enduring and the most fatal. 
 
 Clay alienated the anti-Masons, who had 
 developed into a considerable party in New 
 York; he displeased Webster s friends, who 
 
230 Five American Politicians 
 
 thought their god should have a chance ; and 
 he affronted the anti-slavery Whigs. When 
 the national convention of the Whigs met 
 in Harrisburg, December 4, 1839, these 
 elements of hostility had united with the 
 practical politicians, who, under the leader 
 ship of Thurlow Weed, of New York, real 
 ized that Clay was a stale candidate. So 
 they set about to accomplish his downfall. 
 And this they accomplished through the 
 dark arts of politics. Realizing that a rous 
 ing nominating speech would stampede the 
 convention for Clay, they provided that 
 nominations be made by committees. Each 
 delegation appointed a committee of three, 
 and these ascertaining "the views and opin 
 ions" of their respective delegations, re 
 ported to a large committee composed of all 
 these sub-committees. In the secret cham 
 ber of the select committee, the manipula 
 tors wrought what not even a miracle could 
 have accomplished in the open. They sub 
 stituted an unknown, untalented man, 
 whose only qualifications were his obscurity 
 and a war record, for the brilliant statesman, 
 orator, leader, who for over thirty years 
 had been the idol of the people. And when 
 it became known that William Henry Harri 
 son had received the nomination, the friends 
 of the "Old Prince " wept with disappoint 
 ment and indignation. 
 
 Clay himself received the news of his over 
 throw in a very undignified and unbecoming 
 
Henry Clay 231 
 
 manner. He had in these later years grown 
 imperious and impatient of opposition in 
 his own party. He looked upon himself as 
 the creator of the Whig party, and as 
 its creator he deemed himself the sole ruler. 
 So when he learned of the outcome of the 
 intrigue against him, his rage was terrible, 
 like the anger of a god. Even the storm of 
 Clay s wrath was sublime. 
 
 His own judgment of the event is true. 
 He said: "I am the most unfortunate man 
 in the history of parties ; always run by my 
 friends when sure to be defeated, and now 
 betrayed for a nomination when I or anyone, 
 would be sure of an election/ Such are the 
 vicissitudes of politics. But who led to this 
 betrayal? Was not Clay his own Judas 
 Iscariot? Did he not trifle with his own con 
 victions that he might win the prize of high 
 office? Who should hang for this treason, 
 the betrayer, who was at once the betrayed, 
 or those shrewd men who buttressed their 
 strength with Clay s weakness? 
 
 The sanguine orator soon recovered from 
 the shock of his downfall and became the 
 master of the hustings in that whirl of hys 
 teria and excitement called the "hard cider 
 campaign." 
 
 Van Buren received only 60 electoral 
 votes, Harrison 234. His popular majority 
 of 150,000 was utterly overwhelming to the 
 scant 7,000 votes received by Birney and 
 LeMoyne, the anti-slavery candidates. Not 
 
Five American Politicians 
 
 a line in the contemporary prints revealed 
 that the political prophets foresaw the great 
 significance of these 7,000 protests. 
 
 Clay found temporary solace in the hope 
 that, if he could not be President, he could 
 be the boss of the President. He assumed 
 control of affairs in his usual imperious man 
 ner. What was his humiliation when Har 
 rison calmly told him: "You forget, Mr. 
 Clay, that I am President," and followed the 
 rebuke with a request that whatever sugges 
 tions Clay had to make he should reduce to 
 writing! Clay wrote a letter to the Presi 
 dent assuring him he would not trouble him 
 again by calling at the White House. 
 
 Fate made the sharp protest unnecessary. 
 Harrison died suddenly after having been 
 in office one short month. 
 
 Clay resolved to have better luck with 
 Tyler, who, as Vice-President, succeeded 
 Harrison. "He dare not resist," Clay said. 
 " J will drive him." He did drive Tyler, but 
 he drove him out of the Whig party. The 
 two men could not travel the same highway. 
 When the bank bill was vetoed by the Presi 
 dent, they came to the parting of the ways. 
 And Clay took the Whig party with him, 
 while Tyler, deserted, footsore, forsaken, 
 wandered into the by-ways of the Demo 
 cratic party, from which he had,severed him 
 self when he resigned a seat in the senate 
 rather than vote for the expunging resolu 
 tions, in obedience to the demand of the 
 
Henry Clay 233 
 
 legislature of his state. All the original 
 Harrison cabinet, except Webster, resigned. 
 Webster remained only to complete some 
 urgent business of the state department. 
 First by tens, then by hundreds, then by 
 thousands the Whigs in the land disowned 
 their first President. " Traitor," they shout 
 ed, while the grandiloquent Clay made 
 haughty ridicule of "Captain Tyler and his 
 corporal guard." 
 
 Clay had regained the leadership of his 
 party at the cost of this strange alienation 
 between President and partisans. Again he 
 stood forth the brilliant parliamentarian, 
 the center of adoration. His manner became 
 more dictatorial as he assumed the reins of 
 absolutism. More impatient and restless 
 he grew as he saw the dismal failure of the 
 first national Whig triumph. But while he 
 was inflexible, he was still the winning, gen 
 erous friend. So resplendent were his talents 
 that his followers forgot the tyrant in the 
 idol. He was again the Whig party, its soul 
 and its body, its eyes and its lips. 
 
 On the 31st of March, 1842, he took formal 
 leave of the senate. He wished to retire to 
 private life, to retrieve his fortune and to re 
 cuperate his worn-out nerves. Only Henry 
 Clay could take such farewell. He uncon 
 sciously invested all his public acts with a 
 dramatic splendor that is hard to realize in 
 our straightforward days of prosaic mercan 
 tilism. So this valedictory occasion became 
 
234 Five American Politicians 
 
 a drama. The floor of the senate was the 
 stage, great senators, the flower of the land, 
 were the setting, throngs of ardent spectators 
 that overflowed the chamber, the galleries, 
 and the long corridors, were the auditors, 
 the grandeur of the nation was the subject, 
 his motives during almost forty years of 
 public service, and his personal relations to his 
 colleagues, the theme. There was only one 
 actor in this drama. One other would have 
 been superfluous. His marvelous voice, and 
 sonorous sentences, attuned to every emotion, 
 were never more effective than in this tender 
 farewell from the scenes of his great achieve 
 ments, and alas, his great disappointments. 
 The supremest disappointment awaited 
 him at the outer gate. 
 
 Let us now recur to the slavery issue and 
 trace the development of the public con 
 science upon that question. The great Issue 
 had been gradually assuming that shape 
 which revealed its inmost nature. It was 
 not at soul an economic issue, nor a political 
 issue, but a moral issue. Cloak its black 
 self as they would, under the garments of 
 expediency, of economic production, of race 
 superiority, of ethnic danger, of mutual ben 
 efits to the commingling races, there re 
 mained ever beneath the scant draping? the 
 hideous monster, sin. 
 
 The whole nation shuddered at the first 
 wild cry of the despised abolitionist, "Sla- 
 
Henry Clay 235 
 
 very is a sin." It was the shudder of con 
 viction; but an unwilling nation answered 
 it with a derision that half concealed its 
 fear: "These men are bigots." And when 
 the Garrisons and Lundies and Lovejoys 
 proclaimed that righteousness and sin can 
 not dwell together in prosperity, that there 
 fore either slavery or the constitution must 
 yield, they laid themselves open to the charge 
 of high treason. They were doubly dan 
 gerous, said the politicians, as bigots, who 
 would not reconcile conscience with expedi 
 ency; as traitors, who would prefer the de- 
 truction of the constitution to the preserva 
 tion of the Union. 
 
 While these discussions were confined to 
 New England school houses and churches, 
 to country newspapers and religious maga 
 zines, the politician did not heed them. 
 But the conscience of these abolitionists in 
 vaded the halls of congress, and then was 
 precipitated the bitter debate that lasted 
 from January 7, 1836, until the great war 
 became the arbiter of right. 
 
 The issue was raised in congress by peti 
 tions praying for the abolition of slavery in 
 the district of Columbia. The slave holders 
 desired to ignore these petitions. Terrific 
 onslaughts were made by both sides. The 
 foundations of the nation rocked like a cork 
 on an angry sea. John Quincy Adams, in 
 the house, protected by the drawn revolvers 
 of his friends, held the wolves at bay. The 
 
236 Five American Politicians 
 
 petitions were received but their prayer 
 denied. Thus slavery raised the issue of 
 free speech versus gag rule. 
 
 On July 29, 1835, a mob assaulted a United 
 States post-office in South Carolina for the 
 purpose of searching the mails and destroy 
 ing certain pamphlets that the abolition 
 society had sent to the south. A bill was 
 brought to congress by Calhoun declaring 
 it unlawful for any postmaster wilfully to 
 deliver any printed mail which discussed 
 slavery, in any state or territory wherein 
 such matter was prohibited by law. The 
 state legislatures were thus to be glorified 
 over the national legislature. The slave 
 states were to dictate to the Union what 
 were the powers of the federal government. 
 The bill was defeated. Thus slavery raised 
 the issue of free mail versus plundered mail. 
 
 Yet in a third manner did the Great Issues 
 stalk onto the floors of congress. More de 
 pressing to the south than any other fact 
 was the great development of the northern 
 states. They saw themselves outgrown in 
 every direction. To maintain the balance 
 of power they must gain states. Texas was 
 at the door. She could easily be induced to 
 knock. Her admission would add an em 
 pire to the cotton growing belt. Into the 
 intrigues which ultimately resulted in annex 
 ation and a Mexican War, it is not the func 
 tion of this essay to enter. The north saw 
 the motive that prompted this eagerness for 
 
Henry Clay 237 
 
 territory. The heart of the Texan question 
 was slavery extension. Thus did slavery raise 
 the issue of nationalism versus sectionalism. 
 
 How did Henry Clay meet these issues? 
 
 Clay was at heart an ardent lover of free 
 dom, a devoted believer in Democratic insti 
 tutions, and a sanguine prophet of his 
 country s great future. When a youth in 
 the Kentucky constitutional convention, he 
 had introduced a clause providing for eman 
 cipation in his state. He had learned the 
 lessons of freedom from his preceptor, Chan 
 cellor Wythe. Although a slave holder, he 
 believed in colonization. To him it seemed 
 as impossible for the two races to dwell to 
 gether in freedom and equality, as it was 
 unjust that they should live together one 
 free and the other slave. In 1827, in a 
 speech before the colonization society, he 
 said: "If I could be instrumental in eradi 
 cating this deepest stain upon the character 
 of our country and removing all cause of 
 reproach on account of it by foreign na 
 tions; if I could only be instrumental in 
 ridding of this foul blot that revered state 
 which gave me birth, or that not less 
 beloved state which kindly adopted me 
 as her son, I would not exchange the 
 proud satisfaction which I should enjoy 
 for the honor of all the triumph ever 
 received by the most successful conqueror. 
 * * * Not until universal darkness 
 and despair prevail, can you perpetuate 
 
238 Five American Politicians 
 
 slavery and repress all sympathies and all 
 human and benevolent efforts among freed 
 men in behalf of the unhappy portion of our 
 race doomed to bondage." 
 
 Thus spoke Henry Clay the man; had 
 Henry QJay the candidate been true to 
 these convictions through the succeeding 
 twenty years, he would have been Presi 
 dent. 
 
 When the first abolition petition came into 
 ] congress Clay fervently pleaded that they be 
 received. In 1837 he moved that they be 
 not only received, but referred to the com 
 mittee on the District of Columbia. Cal- 
 houn, subtle logician and metaphysician of 
 secession, at once objected that this would 
 raise debate, and that the slavery question 
 was not one for argument. Clay shouted 
 back : " Not a case for argument ! What is 
 it that lies at the bottom of all our free in 
 stitutions? Argument, reasoning, consider- 
 ation, deliberation. What question is there 
 in human affairs so weak or so strong that 
 it cannot be approached by argument or 
 reason?" Calhoun s cohorts said that these 
 were not the words of a patriot, but of an 
 abolitionist. Calhoun s bill to make the 
 government a robber of its own mails, Clay 
 fought with great vehemence. "From first 
 to last," he declared, "I am opposed to such 
 remedy." The states, he said, must seek 
 their own remedy, after the pamphlets had 
 passed beyond the local post office. 
 
Henry Clay 239 
 
 Clay was chairman of the Foreign Rela 
 tions Committee when the Texan question 
 hove in sight. He was an expansionist by 
 temperament. In 1820, when in the house 
 of representatives, he had severely criti 
 cized Monroe for relinquishing Texas in the 
 Florida Treaty. He maintained that Texas 
 was a part of the Louisiana purchase. When 
 secretary of state under Adams, he had be 
 gun negotiations for the purchase of Texas. 
 But in 1837, as chairman of the committee 
 on foreign relations, his ardor was grown 
 cold. Did the pro-slavery movement act 
 as ice upon his warm zeal for his country s 
 growth? 
 
 His committe report was calm and devoid 
 of all appearance of haste or fervor. It re 
 solved, "that the independence of Texas 
 ought to be acknowledged by the United 
 States whenever satisfactory information 
 shall be received that it has in successful 
 operation a civil government, capable of 
 performing the duties and fulfilling the obli 
 gations of an independent power." 
 
 The speech that accompanied the intro 
 duction of this report warned against hasty 
 action and hoped thai there would be no 
 war with Mexico. 
 
 While Clay the man was setting himself 
 right with his conscience; Clay the candidate 
 was beginning to think that he must set 
 himself right with the south. Gradually he 
 began to absorb the malarial opinion that 
 
240 Five American Politicians 
 
 the abolitionists were dangerous. In Feb 
 ruary, 1839, a petition was presented by the 
 citizens of Washington, praying for the con 
 tinuance of slavery in the district. It was 
 whispered behind doors that Clay was 
 the originator of this petition. He arose to 
 its defense. He spoke very slowly, almost 
 hesitatingly, without fire, without force, 
 without figure. The calculating demeanor 
 of the candidate had dried the well springs 
 of his fluency. The consciousness that he 
 was surrendering convictions to expediency 
 drove the blood from his countenance. With 
 blanched cheeks, parched lips, and scrupu 
 lously weighed words, Henry Clay affirmed 
 that he was sorry the slavery question had 
 ever been raised in debate; that abolitionists 
 were a dangerous set of men; that since 
 slavery exists it was better to let it alone 
 than to agitate the public mind, "better for 
 both parties that the existing state should 
 be preserved"; that slaves were property; 
 that the abolition agitation delayed all pros 
 pects of emancipation, and that emancipa 
 tion would usher in " the danger of an ulti 
 mate ascendency of the black race, or of a 
 civil contest which might terminate in the 
 extinction of one race or the other." To 
 make sure his surrender was not complete, 
 he added: "I am no friend of slavery; the 
 Searcher of all Hearts knows that every pul 
 sation of mine beats high and strong in 
 the cause of civil liberty. Whenever it is 
 
Henry Clay 241 
 
 safe and practical, I desire to see every por 
 tion of the human family in the enjoyment 
 of it. But I prefer the liberty of my own 
 country to that of any other people, and the 
 liberty of my own race to that of any other 
 race. The liberty of the descendants of 
 Africa in the United States is incompatible 
 with the liberty and safety of these European 
 descendants. Their slavery forms an excep 
 tion, an exception resulting from a stern and 
 inexorable necessity, to the general liberty 
 of the United States. We did not originate, 
 nor are we responsible for this necessity. 
 Their liberty, if it were possible, could only 
 be established by violating the incontestable 
 powers of the states and subverting the 
 union; and beneath the ruins of the union 
 would be buried sooner or later the liberty 
 of both races." 
 
 Thus did the candidate bid for the votes 
 of the south. It was answered from an un 
 expected quarter. Gerrit Smith, a powerful 
 anti-slavery leader, wrote him publicly a 
 letter, advising him to exert his powers "to 
 repeal the matchlessly wicked laws enacted 
 to crush the Savior s poor." "Allow us to 
 assure you," he continued, "that it will be 
 impossible for you to redeem Henry Clay 
 the statesman and Henry Clay the orator 
 and even Henry Clay the President of the 
 United States from the contempt of a slave 
 loathing posterity, otherwise than by coup 
 ling witfrthese designations the inexpressibly 
 
242 Five American Politicians 
 
 more honorable distinction of Henry Clay 
 the Emancipator V It was reserved for an 
 other to be the emancipator in the stress of 
 events whose gathering shadows cast a gloom 
 over the last days of Henry Clay the Pacifi 
 cator. 
 
 We have seen how this morsel thrown to 
 the slave-holding Whigs was spurned almost 
 contemptuously in the Harrisburg conven 
 tion in 1839. It was probably the conscious 
 ness of the futility of this surrender that 
 made Clay so angry when he received the 
 news of his undoing. But he did not learn 
 the lesson of this humiliating event. He 
 had hardly delivered his dramatic valedic 
 tory to the senate in 1842 than he began to 
 grow impatient to prove to the south that 
 he was not an abolitionist. 
 
 The two years, 1842-44, were Clay 
 years. From all over the land came urgent 
 invitations to speak, letters poured in upon 
 him in a deluge; all of them he answered 
 with great precaution. In April, 1842, the 
 Georgia Whigs nominated him for their can 
 didate in the next presidential campaign. 
 Maine, New York, Maryland, Ohio, Indiana, 
 followed in the same year. He traveled 
 northward, and at Dayton, Ohio, was greet 
 ed by the greatest throng ever assembled to 
 listen to a stump speech. 100,000 people 
 were encamped upon the fields. They came 
 from the adjacent townships, in wagons, on 
 horseback, on foot. Acres of people were 
 
Henry Clay 243 
 
 his auditory, the blue sky and the open field 
 his auditorium. For never was building 
 erected large enough to hold the gathered 
 thousands who met to proclaim Henry Clay 
 their chosen idol. 
 
 He journeyed southward to New Orleans. 
 He had his progress through the Carolinas 
 and Georgia. Everywhere was wild enthusi 
 asm. There was no abatement for two years 
 of this spontaneous flow of the spirit of Clay 
 worship. Ashland was the Mecca of all poli 
 ticians. Thither the worshipping multitude 
 brought its offerings. "American made 
 goods for American consumption," was the 
 motto written upon every gift. Barrels of 
 American salt, braces of American turkeys, 
 bolts of American woolens and cottons, 
 bottles of American wine, jugs of American 
 whisky, flasks of American cologne, fqjind 
 their way to the capacious storerooms of 
 Ashland. The stately halls gave gracious 
 welcome to distinguished men from all over 
 the land and from Europe. 
 
 The elections of 1843 were Whigish. The 
 augurs were auspicious. The sanguine hero 
 was in gleeful mood. Not a cloudlet was 
 seen upon his political horizon. A true 
 prophet could have discerned a blackness the 
 size of a man s hand. 
 
 In May, 1844, the Whig national conven 
 tion met at Baltimore and ratified what the 
 clamorous multitude had already accom 
 plished. With hurrah and with song Henry 
 
244 Five American Politicians 
 
 \ Clay was nominated and the disappointed 
 Webster stolidly reentered the ranks of the 
 Whigs. He had found John Tyler s com 
 pany too uncongenial. The Democratic con- 
 
 > vention met a few days later. It was unani 
 mously admitted that Martin Van Buren 
 should be the candidate. But the politi 
 cians willed otherwise. The pro-slavery men 
 ruled the convention. " Texas or Disunion " 
 was their insane cry. "The re-occupation 
 of Oregon and the re-annexation of Texas " 
 was their popular slogan. Van Buren had 
 straddled the Texas question. He was 
 therefore unavailable, and James K. Polk, 
 unknown and unsung, was named to run 
 against Henry Clay, whose glories filled the 
 whole heavens. The contrast seemed em 
 barrassing to the Democrats, ridiculous to 
 the Whigs, and humiliating to the great 
 Clay. The question, "Who is Polk?" was 
 the campaign argument of the Whigs. The 
 answer was a death dealing blow. 
 
 In spite of Clay s most strenuous endea 
 vors, the Texas question became the real 
 issue of the campaign. Despised Tyler, the 
 Whig Vice-President, elevated to the first 
 Whig Presidency by the death of Harrison, 
 foisted this issue upon the Whig party. 
 This was his revenge for the ruthless way 
 Clay had thrust him outside the party door. 
 For three years Tyler s scheming brain was 
 busy intriguing for the annexation of Texas. 
 He hoped thereby to gain the Democratic 
 
Henry Clay 245 
 
 nomination in 1844. On April 12, 1844, the 
 treaty of annexation was signed and sent 
 to the senate. The outcast Tyler forced 
 the imperious Clay to take official notice of 
 the issue. This he did in a letter, dated 
 April 17, 1844, written at Raleigh, N. C. In 
 it he reviewed his attempts to purchase 
 Texas when he was secretary of state under 
 Adams. He affirmed that Texas was part 
 of the Louisiana purchase, and had been 
 shamefully relinquished for Florida. He 
 frankly avowed that we had taken too open 
 a part in the Texas revolt, and that to ac 
 quire the state contrary to the consent of 
 Mexico would mean war with our southern 
 neighbor. This would be deplorable. More 
 over, there was a strong opposition in the 
 north against such annexation. The " bal 
 ance of power" argument he flung aside 
 with derision. The national honor should not 
 be stained by sending us into a war for the 
 mere purpose of gaining additional territory. 
 This neutral letter naturally failed to 
 please the southern Whigs, nor was it ratified 
 by the violent anti-slavery Whigs of the 
 north, for it refrained from mentioning the 
 one reason why the annexation of Texas 
 would be obnoxious to them, namely because 
 it would expand the slave territory. The 
 body of the party acquiesced to its views. 
 The letter was scracely dry upon its page 
 ere it was followed by one from Van Buren 
 of similar import. Van Buren had met 
 
246 Five American Politicians 
 
 Clay at Ashland in 1842 and the two friendly 
 antagonists had agreed to oppose the annex 
 ation of Texas if it became an issue. The 
 agreement was kept, and neither of the par 
 ties thereto was elected. 
 
 Clay might have been elected had he been 
 content to rest on his Raleigh letter. Words 
 came too easily to the orator. His great 
 anxiety to be elected made him restless and 
 shook from him another letter, sent to 
 Stephen F. Miller, of Tuscaloosa, Ala., July 1, 
 1844. He denounced emphatically the 
 charge that he was courting the abolition 
 ists. "No man in the United States has 
 been so much abused by them as I have 
 been." "Personally I could have no ob 
 jection to the annexation of Texas; but I 
 certainly should be unwilling to see the exist- 
 ing union dissolved or seriously jeoparded, 
 for the sake of acquiring Texas. If any one 
 desires to know the leading and paramount 
 object of my public life, the preservation of 
 the Union will furnish him the key." 
 
 This was a patriotic benediction to a di 
 rect slap at the abolitionists. Slavery was at 
 last recognized by Clay as the issue. But 
 the warm blood of his southern friends was 
 not satisfied. In response to urgent requests 
 he wrote a second letter to the same Miller on 
 July 27. "I have," he said, "no hesitation 
 in saying that, far from having any personal 
 objection to the annexation of Texas, I 
 should be glad to see it, without dishonor, 
 
Henry Clay 247 
 
 without war, with the common consent of the 
 Union, and upon just and fair terms. I do ! 
 not think that the subject of slavery ought [ 
 to affect the question one way or the other." 
 
 Fate might have whispered into Webster s 
 ear, when he rose to deliver his 7th of 
 March speech in 1850: " Remember the 
 Ides of March!" What cruel spirit whis 
 pered fatuation into Clay s ear when he 
 penned these Alabama letters? 
 
 The blackness, the size of a man s hand, 
 now grew into a threatening thunder cloud. 
 It spread over the whole horizon. Aboli 
 tionists and "Conscience Whigs" pointed 
 the finger of derision at the truckling trim 
 mer, to them no hero, but a slavemaster. By 
 the hundreds did the anti-slavery Whigs for 
 sake their party . Clay, when too late, saw the 
 disaffection and tried to check it. Letter after 
 letter, protest after protest, was unheeded. 
 These northern deserters had a conscience. 
 
 The campaign moved forward, carried on 
 the wings of song and of shout. Joyously 
 the Whigs sang: 
 
 "For Henry Clay our candidate, 
 
 Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah, 
 To place him in the chair of state, 
 
 Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah. 
 God s noblest work, an honest man, 
 A nobler show us if you can, 
 Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah, hurrah, 
 Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah. " 
 
248 Five American Politicians 
 
 " Shout Yankee Doodle, Whigs, huzza! 
 
 We re done with Captain Tyler, 
 He who has been his country s flaw, 
 
 Shall never more defile her. 
 For Farmer Clay, then, boys, hurrah, 
 
 And proudly here proclaim him, 
 The great, the good, the valiant Hal 
 
 And shout when er ye name him." 
 
 "We spread our banners to the sky, 
 Our motto, Clay and Liberty! 
 At victors we our veto fling, 
 A President we want, not King." 
 
 Thus they sang in cheerful glee of their 
 "Old Coon," their "Star of the West," their 
 "Gallant Harry." 
 
 And this was the doleful echo of their song 
 that came from the NewEngland hills. It was 
 the story of a slave who longed for freedom. 
 In his anguish for liberty he said : "Oh, that I 
 might be free!" His master overheard the 
 exclamation and whipped the negro to death. 
 
 "The thong was in his hand 
 
 A thong of knotted hide. 
 9 Hardened with blood beside, 
 And braided as a band; 
 
 Blow after blow he gave, 
 
 To that unhappy slave. 
 As is in boyish play, 
 
 He lashed him til the gore 
 
 His quivering limbs ran o er. 
 Huzza for Henry Clay. 
 
Henry Clay 249 
 
 " Each strip curled up the flesh, 
 And it crawled upon his bones. 
 Then fainter grew his groans; 
 But as the blood ran fresh, 
 Twas lash, and lash, and lash. 
 Oh, God! that fearful gash! 
 Thy hand in mercy stay! 
 And with that knotted hide, 
 He lashed him till he died, 
 Huzza for Henry Clay." 
 The orthodox abolitionists who gave circu 
 lation to many such poems, unearthed all of 
 the past. They learned that Clay had at one 
 time, in his youth, been fond of cards, there 
 fore he was a gambler; that, in the heat of a 
 personal controversy, he had at one time ut 
 tered an oath, therefore he was a blasphemer; 
 that he had ordered his servants to work on 
 Sunday, therefore he was a Sabbath breaker; 
 that he was courting the Catholics, and the 
 Mormons, therefore he was an unbeliever ; that 
 he had fought many duels, therefore he was a 
 murderer; that he owned slaves, therefore he 
 was a slave owner. 
 
 Before the campaign ended, Andrew Jack 
 son broke his silence, and reaffirmed his con 
 viction that, way back in 1824, Clay had 
 cheated Jackson out of the Presidency, 
 through "bargain and corruption." The 
 personal hatred of the old man did not parch 
 with his age. 
 
 These desultory movements of the more 
 fanatic abolitionists would have resulted in 
 
250 Five American Politicians 
 
 nothing, had it not been for a little conven 
 tion held in Buffalo, August 30, 1843. The 
 Liberty party here named James G. Birney 
 and Thomas Morris as its candidates. They 
 were not abolitionists; they were devoted 
 to the constitution and their country. They 
 desired that slavery should cease, but that 
 its abolition should be brought about through 
 constitutional means. In 1840 they had 
 polled 7,000 votes. During the quadren- 
 nium they had grown. Salmon P. Chase, of 
 Ohio, a man of great talents and splendid 
 vigor, became their leader. Birney, their 
 candidate, was a cultured gentleman, a Ken 
 tucky lawyer, who had freed his slaves for 
 conscience sake. The party was composed 
 of men of judgment, talent, patriotism, and 
 righteousness. A few abolitionists came to 
 swell their votes. But Clay s unfortunate 
 Alabama letters made a host of converts to 
 the new party out of anti-slavery Whigs. 
 Against Clay they directed their warfare. 
 Not that Polk was less a slave-owner, but 
 Clay had tampered with his best convictions. 
 Upon him the Liberty party had hoped to 
 place their votes. Now they heaped upon 
 his aged head the supremest disappointment 
 of his eventful life. 
 
 In New York, the Liberty party polled 
 15,812 votes. Polk had a majority over 
 Clay of 5,080. Ambrose Spencer, of New 
 York, told Clay the plain blunt truth. "The 
 Abolition vote lost you the election, as three- 
 
Henry Clay 251 
 
 fourths of them were firm Whigs converted 
 into abolitionists." 
 
 New York held the balance of Clay s fate. 
 The returns from the eastern counties showed 
 heavy Democratic gains. The hopes of the 
 Whig managers hung upon the slender thread 
 of increased Whig majorities in the western 
 counties. The returns came in very slowly; 
 the suspense was agonizing. But each rider 
 from the rural districts brought distracting 
 news. Hope diminished with each recurring 
 day, until the final count revealed the awful 
 defeat of their idol. 
 
 The whole land was stunned. Men gath 
 ered in groups at village corners, and spoke 
 in whispers. Women and children joined 
 their fathers and husbands in the universal 
 wail and lamentation. Men wept, and fore 
 told the ruin of the republic. Probably no 
 other national event has had such a distress 
 ing effect upon the popular imagination, 
 excepting only the assassination of Lincoln. 
 Everybody felt as if a great wrong had been 
 done. Business joined sentiment in the 
 mourning, and the Great Hero of the masses, 
 thrice defeated, was thrice glorified through 
 their sorrowful adoration. 
 
 From the ashes of defeat rose for the fifth 
 time the phcenix of his ambitions. The ten 
 acity of the old man s desire to be President 
 was equalled only by his talents to inspire 
 the enthusiasm of his devoted following and 
 to move constantly before the people, the 
 
252 Five American Politicians 
 
 conspicuous center of excitement and admir 
 ation. 
 
 The quiet of Ashland was invaded by a 
 constant stream of visitors, who came to do 
 homage to the great Whig. His repose was 
 voluntarily broken by a series of journeys 
 and ovations, which kept the nation always 
 conscious that Henry Clay had not retired, 
 and that he was not defeated. To his loyal 
 and faithful friends he was still the tower of 
 strength and majesty. They sang: 
 
 "Not fallen, no! as well the tall 
 And pillowed Alleghanies fall ! " 
 
 To them the victim of minorities was the 
 victor of majorities. 
 
 In January, 1845, he spoke at a meeting 
 of the American Colonization Society, held 
 in Washington. Alexander H. Stephens de 
 scribed the event to his brother : " Last night 
 Mr. Clay made a show on the colonization 
 questions, and such a show I never saw. 
 Men came from Baltimore, Philadelphia and 
 New York, to say nothing of Alexandria and 
 this city. The house and galleries were 
 jammed and crammed before five o clock." 
 
 And this was only two months after the 
 fateful election. If people were willing to 
 lend him their ears, they were not willing to 
 loan him their convictions. 
 
 Somewhat later he made a progress through 
 the south. The ladies of Tennessee brought 
 him a costly vase; those of Virginia erected 
 
Henry Clay 253 
 
 his statue in Richmond; the people of New 
 Orleans greeted him as a king. 
 
 In the autumn of 1847 Clay gave notice 
 that he would address his fellow citizens at 
 Lexington on the slavery question, and the 
 Mexican War. An uncountable throng 
 from all the neighborhood and from neigh 
 boring states gathered to hear his solemn 
 warning against extension of territory by 
 conquest, merely for the purpose of selfish 
 aggrandizement. Scott had entered the 
 City of Mexico, and the stars and stripes 
 were floating over the royal palace. The 
 American people seemed in a delirium of ex 
 citement. The most absurd schemes were 
 afloat to incorporate Mexico into the nation. 
 It was to allay this intoxication that Clay 
 issued, in his grandest manner, his 
 prophetic manifesto. He closed his speech 
 by offering a series of resolutions, declaring 
 that the war was one of aggression, that the 
 annexing of Mexico would result in despo 
 tism, that peace with Mexico should be gen 
 erous, embracing only a severing of Texas 
 from the Mexican domain, and that " we do 
 positively and emphatically disclaim and 
 disavow any wish or desire on our part to ac 
 quire any foreign territory whatever for the 
 purpose of propagating slavery, or of intro 
 ducing slaves from the United States into 
 such foreign territory." 
 
 Clay had touched the pulse of the north, 
 and his resolutions were received and re- 
 
254 Five American Politicians 
 
 adopted in great mass-meetings in every 
 northern state. The speech was one of the 
 first recorded by " magnetic telegraph." A 
 courier hastened from Lexington to Cincin 
 nati, a distance of 84 miles, in five hours. 
 Within twenty-four hours the great speech 
 was reported in New York. This was a 
 marvel upon which the papers of the day 
 dwelt in astonishment. It reveals the im 
 portance placed by the nation upon the ut 
 terances of Henry Clay. 
 
 A few months later C\ay journeyed east 
 to receive ovations in Washington, Balti 
 more, Philadelphia, and New York. This 
 series of festivals showed again the tremen 
 dous popularity of this singular man, whom 
 the people loved to defeat, that they might 
 the more lavish their love upon him. 
 
 Clay was a candidate again. He had 
 never ceased being a candidate. The polls 
 had scarcely closed in 1844 before his friends 
 asked him to stand in 1848. He cautiously 
 replied that it was altogether too early to 
 plan for that event. While nursing his de 
 feat, he fed his desires, and before 1845 ar 
 rived, he had quite fully determined to run 
 again, if he could thus "serve the people 
 and the Whig party." The "next time" 
 was Clay s to-morrow, always just beyond 
 his grasp. The leading Whigs were tired 
 of defeat. They shared the opinion of John 
 J. Crittenden, a true friend of Clay and an 
 able man : "I prefer Clay to all men for the 
 
Henry Clay 255 
 
 Presidency, but my conviction, my invol 
 untary conviction is, that he cannot be 
 elected." 
 
 Clay had formed the habit of running for 
 the Presidency, and the people had gotten 
 mto the habit of defeating him. It is as 
 difficult for the people to break habits, as it 
 is for individuals. 
 
 Wars were deadly to Clay s aspirations. 
 His own war of 1812 brought forth Jackson, 
 Indian wars produced Harrison, the war 
 with Mexico gave the nation General Taylor. 
 
 Thurlow Weed and his associates were 
 scanning the horizon for a warrior hero whose 
 past would not stand in his way, and grim 
 Zackary Taylor proved their man. He had 
 no past, and although he had never voted in 
 his life, and had never expressed any predi 
 lections for party excepting that he had ad 
 mired Henry Clay and had worn homespun, 
 the Whig politicians took him in their arms 
 and gently nursed his candidacy. The rough 
 and ready frontiersman and victorious sol 
 dier was made a popular hero. In the party 
 prints, and in "people s meetings," he was 
 proclaimed. On February 22, 1848, an 
 enormous Whig mass meeting was held in 
 Philadelphia to celebrate Washington s 
 birthday, and the battle of Buena Vista, 
 and to nominate Taylor for President. To 
 set his candidacy on a partisan basis the old 
 general was called "an undoubted Whig." 
 At first reluctant to assume so important a 
 
256 Five American Politicians 
 
 role, the simple soldier was soon made to be 
 lieve that he was the man for the place, that 
 the people called to him, and that he must 
 obey their call. 
 
 Clay grew restive under the increasing 
 clamor for the General. The popularity of 
 the military candidate chafed upon his 
 pride. It galled him to think that any 
 other than Henry Clay could be the Whig 
 candidate. He could not see how so insig 
 nificant and unknown a person could assume 
 to be a rival of Henry Clay. He had for 
 gotten the lesson that Harrison had taught 
 him. He was soon to learn it over again in 
 humility and chagrin. In April, 1848, he 
 wrote a letter permitting the Whigs to "use 
 his name " in the national convention. This 
 public utterance, he supposed, would effect 
 ually put Taylor out of the way. But the 
 old General had tasted the s\veets of ambi 
 tion s cup, and announced that if he could 
 not get the Whig nomination, he would run 
 as the people s candidate, on a ticket of his 
 own. Here was magnificent audacity. A 
 man who had never approached the ballot 
 box dared to beard the great Whig lion in 
 his native cave! With the backing of the 
 politicians, Taylor s boldness ceased to be 
 humorous. When the manifesto was made 
 known to Clay, he was violently angered; 
 when he learned that even his beloved Ken 
 tucky was turning against him, his wrath 
 was turned into humiliation and grief. 
 
Henry Clay 257 
 
 The Whig convention met June seventh in 
 Philadelphia. On the first ballot Taylor had 
 111 votes, Clay 97, the rest scattering. On 
 the fourth ballot Taylor s vote had grown _ 
 to 171, while Clay s had dwindled to only! 
 32. For the first time in his long career, 
 the Kentucky delegation deserted its idol 
 ized son. The convention was bedlam. 
 Clay could command only a minority, but 
 they were turbulent in their opposition to 
 Taylor, and virulent in their anger against 
 the New York domination. 
 
 Every attempt to ratify a reasonable anti- j 
 slavery resolution was shouted down amidst \ 
 the mingled jeers of the southern Whigs and \ 
 the dire threats of the " conscience Whigs," \ 
 until the latter left the hall in disgust, de 
 nouncing the disgraceful proceedings, and / 
 disclaiming any further allegiance to the 
 Whig party. Slavery was the rock upon 
 which Clay s party was wrecked. It had 
 tried through duplicity to lure both north J 
 and south into its ranks. It succeeded in | 
 1848. But it was the last victory. The ] 
 storm of anti-slavery conviction swept it I 
 high upon the rocks, a mangled wreck of 
 driftwood and cordage. 
 
 While his coalition was thus crumbling to 
 pieces under the elements of public opinion, 
 poor Clay was pleading with his friends to 
 allow him to remain in solitude and peace. 
 Great domestic affliction had bowed his heart 
 in grief. Six fair daughters had died, one son 
 
 17 
 
258 Five American Politicians 
 
 was a lunatic, another a spendthrift, his 
 most promising son fell at Buena Vista. His 
 estate was heavily encumbered and his 
 health broken. He thought seriously of 
 selling his beloved Ashland. One day when 
 he went to his bank to make a payment, he 
 was told that all his obligations were paid. 
 "Who paid them?" he asked quickly. 
 The banker would only say that some 
 friends had discharged all the debts. Only 
 the persuasion of his family and intimate 
 friends finally impelled the proud man to ac 
 cept this generosity. 
 
 Fifty years of constant activity in public 
 affairs had incapacitated Clay for repose and 
 leisure. The slavery question was now up 
 permost in the thought of all men, and since 
 Henry Clay had ceased to be a candidate, he 
 at seventy-two took up the work where he 
 had laid it down at twenty-two. In a let 
 ter to a friend he set forth his plans of grad 
 ual emancipation and transportation to Li 
 beria. It was practically the theory of his 
 youth, rehabilitated in the logic of old age. 
 
 If the country was through with Henry 
 Clay, the Master of Coalition, it had yet to 
 utter its loudest call to Henry Clay, the Pa 
 cificator. In the autumn of 1849 he was 
 unanimously chosen by the Kentucky legis 
 lature to his old seat in the United States 
 senate. He left the rural quiet of his re 
 tirement to lead in the last and greatest 
 battle of his long and eventful life. 
 
Henry Clay 259 
 
 The war with Mexico was a southern war, 
 sullenly submitted to by the north. The 
 slave states were eager to enjoy the fair 
 fruits of conquest, the free states were loath 
 to dedicate new lands to the cause of their 
 enemy. Thus arose a quarrel over the di 
 vision of the spoils. The issue was imme 
 diately shaped by economic forces at work 
 in the remotest portion of the newly ac 
 quired territory. Gold was the lodestone 
 that drew thousands of fortune-seekers to 
 California; and when these rugged men 
 came to Washington with a free-state consti- 
 ution in their hands, they brought conster 
 nation to the south, courage to the north, 
 and a crisis to the Union. 
 
 When Clay reached Washington, the at 
 mosphere was charged with the electric 
 forces of disunion, threatening to shape 
 themselves and hurl their swift and destruc 
 tive bolts against the national government. 
 Insolent words were loudly spoken every 
 where, in hotels, on streets, in the chambers 
 of government; insults were offered the Union 
 on every public occasion. The constellation 
 of stars in the national flag was about to dis 
 solve itself into the nebular units whence it 
 had sprung. Clay was amazed at the boldness 
 of the southern secessionists. He had hoped 
 to remain a calm observer of events, "rarely 
 speaking," as he wrote to a friend. But the 
 events were too dramatic to allow repose, 
 too laden with danger to permit of silence. 
 
260 Five American Politicians 
 
 Henry Clay the candidate was dead; 
 Henry Clay the patriot was throbbing with 
 life. No more dualism, no more dodging of 
 issues, no more expediency for him. The 
 statesman of compromise, indeed, could not 
 view the great issue as did the newly elected 
 senators, Salmon P. Chase, of Ohio, and Wil 
 liam H. Seward, of New York, as moral evils 
 to be forthwith eradicated, root and branch. 
 But he did forsee that ultimately slavery 
 must pass away, and he heartily believed 
 that the only pathway to peace lay through 
 the neutral field of compromise. 
 
 The specific issues were fivefold: First, 
 the admission of California as a free state, 
 opposed by the south; second, the applica 
 tion of the Wilmot Proviso to the remainder 
 of the conquered country, opposed by the 
 south; third, the adjustment of the Texan 
 boundary, the south claiming the Rio Grande 
 boundary for the state, thereby extending 
 the confines of a slave state, the north insist 
 ing upon the historical boundary, extending 
 the free territory of New Mexico ; fourth, the 
 question of a fugitive slave law, allowing the 
 master to pursue his fleeing slaves into the 
 free states; and, finally, the abolition of 
 slavery in the District of Columbia and the 
 prohibition of the slave trade therein. 
 
 It was on the 29th day of January, 1850, 
 that Clay arose to announce to an expectant 
 nation his " comprehensive scheme of ad 
 justment." Concession was the spirit, pa- 
 
Henry Clay 261 
 
 triotism the motive of his plan. He sought 
 to be reasonable, that he might ^ appeal to 
 reason; conciliatory, that he might implore 
 justice; cautious, that he might not offend; 
 and patriotic, that he might create a na 
 tional fervor. His eloquence became almost 
 supernatural, and he invested his cause with 
 such power of argument and lofty sentiment 
 that the world followed his sentences with 
 delight and his sentiments with reverence. 
 
 This was the framework of his plan : First, 
 California should be at once admitted as a 
 free state. This was agreeable to the north. 
 Second, that congress prepare territorial 
 governments for New Mexico and Utah 
 without any restrictions as to slavery. This 
 sacrificed the Wilmot Proviso and displeased 
 the north; it did not authorize slavery and 
 it did therefore not content the south. 
 Third, that the Rio Grande boundary be vir 
 tually adopted and Texas be paid an indem 
 nity. This did not greatly antagonize either 
 contestant. Fourth, that Maryland must 
 consent before slavery could be abolished in 
 the District of Columbia, but that, fifth, the 
 slave trade be prohibited therein. This was 
 clearly middle ground. Sixth, that the fu 
 gitive slave law be made more rigid. And 
 finally, that congress had no authority to 
 prohibit the slave trade between slave states. 
 These latter to please the south. 
 
 Clay gave his colleagues a week to study 
 his plan before he opened the debate. 
 
262 Five American Politicians 
 
 The fifth day of February, 1850, remains a 
 memorable day in the annals of our parlia 
 mentary history. On that day the great de 
 bate on the last compromise with slavery was 
 opened by the Master of Compromise. The 
 "Old Prince" was 73 years old, feeble and 
 sickly, hardly able to take his customary walk 
 to the capitol. " I feel myself quite weak and 
 exhausted this morning/ he remarked to a 
 friend upon whose arm he leaned heavily as 
 he climbed the capitol steps. But it was 
 merely the infirmity of the flesh. The spirit 
 of this wonderful man bowed only under the 
 burden of impending national disaster. To 
 his friends, solicitous for his health, implor 
 ing him to postpone the debate, he avowed 
 that his life was of little consequence com 
 pared with the preservation of the Union. 
 
 The increased tension of the situation 
 had quickened, public expectation. When 
 Clay entered the senate chamber he found 
 himself the center of a notable and 
 wonderful throng. Grouped around him 
 were the most talented men of his country. 
 The senate itself was composed of a galaxy 
 of brilliant minds. At least three of these 
 senators, including Clay, were men of the 
 very first magnitude. These were Calhoun, 
 the metaphysician of nullification, and Web 
 ster, the majestic defender of the constitu 
 tion. Scarcely less distinguished was Ben- 
 ton, whose power for research was almost 
 superhuman, and Stephen A. Douglas, whose 
 
Henry Clay 263 
 
 incisive logic was the potent ally of a wonder 
 fully active mind, and Cass, dogmatic, cau 
 tious, ambitious, the associate of Clay in his 
 efforts for compromise. There also sat 
 Thomas Corwin, whose wit and eloquence had 
 won him the plaudits of the whole land, and 
 Berrien, the " American Cicero," and Hanni 
 bal Hamlin, savior of the Wilmot Proviso, and 
 later the Vice-President under Linclon; and 
 John P. Hale, New Hampshire s sturdy anti- 
 slavery advocate and later presidential candi 
 date of the Liberty party ; and "Honest John" 
 Davis, the able colleague of Webster, whose 
 record for practical statescraft has been un 
 fortunately forgotten in the glorification of his 
 greater colleague; and John Bell, later the can 
 didate for the presidency of the Constitutional 
 Union party; and Daniel S. Dickenson, an 
 orator of great ability and the friend and helper 
 of Lincoln; and William L. Dayton, an able 
 jurist, the friend and adviser of President 
 Taylor, and the first Vice-Presidential can 
 didate of the Republican party. And there 
 sat Jefferson Davis, whom fate had selected 
 for the active leader in the very movement 
 that Clay so arduously sought to avert, with 
 King, of Alabama, and Foote, of Mississippi, 
 and Mason, of Virginia, and Atchison, of 
 Missouri, a potent partnership in the death 
 struggle of slavery. These were confronted 
 by Seward, of New York, and Chase, of Ohio, 
 leaders of the newer statesmanship of anti- 
 slavery aggression. 
 
264 Five American Politicians 
 
 Ranged around this remarkable group of 
 senators, upon the floor of the chamber, 
 were members of the diplomatic corps, con 
 gressmen from the other side of the capitol, 
 judges, who had left their benches, and cabi 
 net members who had abandoned their 
 desks, all to hear the eloquent Clay plead his 
 cause of conciliation. And beyond these 
 statesmen and diplomats and jurists, con 
 gesting the aisles, overflowing the galleries, 
 filling the corridors, sweeping down the 
 capitol steps, and reaching far out into the 
 street, was the crowd; the crowd that Clay 
 loved more than he loved the great and the 
 wise, and the crowd that loved him with 
 filial affection and revered him with a 
 strange devotion. From Baltimore and 
 New York and Philadelphia and Boston and 
 all the country round they poured, these 
 people, these hordes, to listen once again 
 to the winning accents and rolling sentences 
 of their idol. They feared it might be his 
 last public appearance. The years that had 
 dealt so harshly with his hopes had dealt no 
 more kindly with his frame. "Light Horse 
 Harry of the West" was becoming an old 
 man. 
 
 When he rose to address the president of 
 the senate, he was greeted with applause. 
 The crowd outside the door caught up the 
 cheering and the corridors resounded with 
 wild %uzzahs, which were reechoed from the 
 streets. 
 
Henry Clay 265 
 
 The orator soon found his voice and spoke 
 with all the power of his former years. His 
 speech lasted two days. Its tone was con 
 ciliatory. Of the north he asked forbear 
 ance, of the south he pleaded patience, of all 
 he demanded patriotism and loyalty to the 
 Union. He traced the outgrowth of the pre 
 vailing excitement to the War with Mexico, 
 and foretold the horrors of the civil war that 
 would surely follow in the wake of secession. 
 
 On the second day it was very apparent 
 that he was proceeding only under the great 
 est determination of his will power. Several 
 times he had to pause for rest, but he would 
 not consent to an adjournment and the fur 
 ther postponement of the question. When 
 he concluded, the crowd from without swept 
 through the senate chamber to take him by 
 the hand, to kiss him and to caress him, and 
 bestow upon him every possible mark of 
 regard and affection. 
 
 Probably this speech, and the sustained 
 effort it called forth, hastened his death. 
 While he lingered two years longer, he never 
 regained his former vigor. 
 
 The debate thus auspiciously begun is one 
 of the greatest and longest in the annals of 
 congress. Through the spring and all the 
 long, hot summer, the discussion ebbed and 
 flowed. The people followed its arguments, 
 its lofty flights of oratory and bitter personal 
 ities, with a sustained interest born of fear 
 for their country and hope for their cause. 
 
266 Five American Politicians 
 
 Calhoun answered Clay on March 4. He 
 was too feeble to speak. So he reclined on 
 a couch while Mason, of Virginia, read his 
 closely woven arguments. It was the argu 
 ment of a dying man in behalf of a dying 
 cause. Webster followed with his pitiable 
 "Seventh of March speech," wherein he 
 abandoned his former attitude on the Wil- 
 mot Proviso, excused slavery in Texas, 
 taunted the "Conscience Whigs," condemned 
 the abolitionists, commanded more stringent 
 fugitive slave laws, and prophesied that se 
 cession could be accomplished only by force. 
 This strange speech he concluded with a 
 peroration that dwelt upon the blessings of 
 a united country and pleaded the cause of 
 the Union. 
 
 Seward and Chase angered the south, 
 abashed the north, and aggravated the 
 middlemen, by their moral appeal to "a 
 higher law, " by their bitter and unqualified 
 denunciation of slavery as a sin; by their bold 
 onslaught upon the stronghold of the Whigs. 
 The old-school statesmen, who had partici 
 pated in many debates upon slavery, were 
 utterly confounded by these young prophets. 
 Little did they dream that within one short 
 decade these "impudent upstarts" would 
 become the masters of the land, because 
 they discerned the truth that slavery was 
 a moral issue. 
 
 The debate dragged on. Clay s task was 
 almost the impossible; his efforts were 
 
Henry Clay 267 
 
 almost supernatural. His " Omnibus Bill " 
 did not please the extreme pro-slavery 
 men, it was ridiculed by the extreme anti- 
 slavery men. It satisfied no one. Some" 
 were opposed to it because it gave too much 
 to Texas, others because it did not abolish 
 slavery in the District of Columbia. Some 
 fought it because they saw danger in aban 
 doning the military government of Utah and 
 New Mexico ; others because they would not 
 vote for the immediate annexation of 
 California. The opposition of President 
 Taylor was abruptly ended by his death in 
 July. 
 
 Clay was on the floor constantly and spoke 
 almost daily, rallying, dispersing, answering, 
 asking, threatening, pleading. His body 
 was so enfeebled that he could scarcely reach 
 the senate chamber. Yet he fought off the 
 fatigue and pain that he might fight the 
 enemies of his country. Never were his 
 brilliant powers more in evidence. His whole 
 spirit was aflame with zeal for the Union. 
 "If Kentucky to-morrow should unfurl the 
 banner of resistance unjustly, I will never 
 fight under that banner. I owe a paramount 
 allegiance to the whole Union, a subordinate 
 one to my own state. 
 
 " The senator speaks of Virginia being my 
 country. This Union, sir, is my country; 
 the thirty states are my country. Kentucky 
 is my country, and Virginia no more than 
 any state in the Union." 
 
268 Five American Politicians 
 
 And again: "Let us go to the fountain 
 of unadulterated patriotism, and, perform 
 ing a solemn lustration, return, divested of 
 all selfish, sinister, and sordid impurities, 
 and think alone of our God, our country, 
 our conscience, and our glorious Union." 
 
 These sentences are the key to Clay s com 
 promise. That his policy was temporary 
 must now be admitted ; that hi purpose was 
 pure and lofty cannot be doubted. 
 
 The south answered by) threats of war; 
 they pictured the land red in gore.and blood. 
 Clay replied: "If blood is to be spilt, by 
 whose fault is it to be spilt?. -Upon the sup 
 position I maintain, it will be the fault of 
 those who raise the standard of disunion and 
 endeavor to prostrate this government; and, 
 sir, when that is done, so long as it please 
 God to give me a voice to express my senti 
 ments, or an arm, weak and enfeebled as it 
 may be by age,that voice and that arm will 
 be on the side of my country, for the support 
 of the general authority, and for the main 
 tenance of the powers of this Union ! " 
 
 When Rhett, of South Carolina, proposed 
 to his neighbors in a public meeting that 
 they at once secede, Clay poured upon him 
 the copious streams of his invective. Barn- 
 well, senator from South Carolina, Calhoun s 
 successor, told Clay that he had treated 
 Rhett disrespectfully. - The old fighter was 
 on his feet in an instant. "Mr. President, 
 I said nothing with respect to the character 
 
Henry Clay 269 
 
 of Mr. Rhett. I know him personally, and 
 have some respect for him. But if he pro 
 nounced the sentiment attributed to him of 
 raising the standard of disunion and of re 
 sistance to the common government, what 
 ever he has been, if he follows up that dec 
 laration by corresponding overt acts, he will 
 be a traitor" the orator s voice shrieked, 
 "and I hope he will meet the fate of a traitor! " 
 These words reechoed from every state, like 
 Patrick Henry s famous challenge to the 
 Virginia Royalists. 
 
 At this time a delegation of manufacturers 
 from Boston called on him at his hotel to get 
 favorable tariff legislation. He told them 
 not to talk to him about tariffs when it was 
 doubtful whether they had a country. He 
 advised them to urge some of their fanatical 
 Massachusetts congressmen to give up some 
 of their sectional jealousies and foster peace. 
 "When the country is saved, I will attend 
 to your tariff." The men were naturally dis 
 pleased, but on the next day Clay won their 
 hearts by his warm appeals. 
 
 It was a magnificent fight, this struggle 
 of an old man against congress. For it 
 seemed as if all were against him. One after 
 the other of his measures was amended to 
 death, until there finally remained only the 
 bill establishing a territorial government in 
 Utah. 
 
 On the second of August Clay was com 
 pelled to give up the struggle. The strain 
 
270 Five American Politicians 
 
 of the six months had exhausted his nerves, 
 the torrid heat of the capitol had evaporated 
 his energies, but most of all, the defeat of his 
 measures had broken his heart. He went 
 
 Newport to seek rest and strength. As 
 soon as he had gone, the senators realized 
 what they had done. His inspiring presence 
 had somehow led them to hope for another 
 remedy, but now that they were left alone 
 to face the crisis on their own responsibility, 
 they saw the futility of any other immediate 
 settlement. They hastened to pass the com 
 promise. His absence accomplished what 
 his presence had failed to consummate. The 
 compromise had been bulked into one 
 measure and was defeated. " Omnibus 
 Bills" are never popular. But no sooner 
 /had Clay left the senate than the friends of 
 [ the Union took apart his great structure 
 and gave it piecemeal to the senate. When 
 he returned the last of August, Clay found 
 every one of his recommendations adopted 
 except the one prohibiting slave traffic in 
 the District of Columbia, and this was made 
 a law within a few weeks. 
 
 Thus was accomplished the last of the great 
 compromises between the variant sections. 
 Clay had for the third time won the honor 
 able title of "The Great Pacificator." His 
 genius, his personality, and his conscience 
 peculiarly fitted him for the task of peace 
 maker. Through his mastery of parlia 
 mentary tactics, he became the most for- 
 
Henry Clay 271 
 
 mid able antagonist in congress; through his 
 wonderfully winning disposition, he became 
 the lodestone of love and devotion; through 
 his firm and lofty convictions of the necessity 
 of ultimate emancipation, he became the in 
 vincible champion of Union and peace. 
 There was nothing dogmatic in Clay s con 
 stitution, and when he had laid aside his 
 desire to be president, there remained not 
 a trace of the expediency of egotism. He 
 loved the Union, and he loved peace, and be 
 lieved that the Union could only be saved 
 by gentle compromise, by the quiet arts of 
 peace. And as he journeyed home to his 
 beloved Lexington, feeble and exhausted 
 after this terrific struggle of eight months 
 for union and peace, over every arch of tri 
 umph under which he was carried on the 
 arms of enthusiastic multitudes was written 
 the beautiful precept, " Blessed is the Peace 
 maker." 
 
 Blessed, indeed, could the great orator 
 feel, after he had been welcomed home by 
 his state and his neighbors. Blessed in the 
 quiet repose of peaceful Ashland, blessed in 
 the love of the whole peoples, within whose 
 hearts he had transformed the dread of war 
 into assurance of peace, blessed in his own 
 heart, for his conscience gave sanction to his 
 great work of compromise. 
 
 But Clay s judgment was not as sound as 
 his heart. His foresight was foreshortened 
 by his anxiety for peace. A compromise 
 
272 Five American Politicians 
 
 that cost so many concessions, and that de 
 molished so many convictions, was built 
 only upon shifting sands, and when the 
 storms of moral rage, aroused by the enforce 
 ment of the fugitive slave law, beat upon 
 that house, it fell, and with the fall came 
 the crash of arms. 
 
 Clay was not permitted to see its fall. 
 But the two remaining years that were al 
 lotted to him were portent with the ulti 
 mate disaster. His trembling hands were 
 kept busy erecting props, to uphold the 
 structure of his compromise, and his voice, 
 enfeebled with age, rose again and again to 
 assure his countrymen that the structure was 
 safe. 
 
 Men cried " Peace! Peace!" but in their 
 hearts they knew that there was no peace. 
 \The fugitive slave law was the fearful dis- 
 turber. As long as slavery was strictly con 
 fined to the south, the average northern 
 voter did not speculate about the moral 
 wrong of bondage. When the southern hot 
 heads carried their secession propaganda 
 into congress, the northern Whig was an 
 gered, \but when these slaveholders pursued 
 the fainting, panting fugitive into the free 
 states, and dragged him by force back into 
 bondage, then the phlegmatic northerner 
 had his passion inflamed by his conscience, 
 and his resentment was immediate and ef 
 fective. As long as this object lesson of the 
 worst features of slavery continued to be 
 
Henry Clay 273 
 
 enacted before the eyes of the north, how 
 could a compromise be secure? 
 
 Even Clay began to doubt the finality of 
 his compromise. In 1851 he joined his Whig 
 colleagues in congress in a pronunciamento 
 declaring that the compromise was sufficient 
 and final. Between the lines, one could read 
 the fears of the signers, that their peremp 
 tory declaration was false. When, a month 
 later, Shadrach, a fugitive slave, was wrest 
 ed from a United States marshal in Boston 
 by a mob of blacks, Clay arose to assure the 
 excited men from the south that the fugitive 
 slave law was generally obeyed, and that 
 only one or two violations were recorded. 
 His tone had in it the suspicions of misgiving, 
 although he succeeded marvelously well in 
 making men sanguine of the virtues of the 
 compromise. 
 
 To an invitation to address the citizens of 
 New York, he replied in a long letter, setting 
 forth again, and for the last time, his reasons 
 for believing in the efficiency of the compro 
 mise. It was his final extended public ut 
 terance, and was an appeal to the south to 
 be reasonable in their demands, and to the 
 north to be patient in their actions. 
 
 It was his last public appeal. The hack 
 ing cough was not relieved by a sojourn in 
 Cuba, nor did a summer s rest in Ashland re 
 store him to vigor and health. In the fall of 
 1851 he traveled for the last time over the 
 familiar highways from Lexington to Wash- 
 
274 Five American Politicians 
 
 ington. He passed all the scenes of former 
 glory. The feeble old man could not but be 
 conscious that it was the last time he was to 
 look upon the familiar landmarks, and the 
 friends that surged around his carriage must 
 have realized that for the last time were they 
 peering into those lustrous eyes, undimmed 
 by combat and by years, and for the last 
 time were they grasping the hand that had 
 been clasped by millions of his enthusiastic 
 followers. He was able to attend only one 
 session of the senate. The scenes of his ac 
 tivity were shifted to his room in the National 
 Hotel. For even sickness could not rob Henry 
 Clay of his leadership. From a sickbed Clay 
 directed his defense of the compromise. His 
 political activities did not cease but he was 
 far from sanguine of the success of his coali 
 tion in the coming presidential campaign. 
 
 His coalition was, indeed, rapidly falling 
 to pieces. The old Whig issues \vere no 
 longer of interest to the voter. The Great 
 Issue was avoided by the leaders. The 
 southern Whigs were flocking to the Demo 
 cratic party, and the " conscience Whigs " 
 were rallying around the new Liberty 
 Party. In congress a majority of the 
 Whigs refused to caucus on the finality of the 
 compromise. Leaders, too, were wanting. 
 Webster never was a party leader. Clay 
 was on the point of death, the new men were 
 half-hearted in their Whigism, and could 
 not agree upon a candidate. 
 
Henry Clay 275 
 
 Three men aspired to the nomination. 
 Webster, made unavailable by his greatness 
 and unpopular by his Seventh of March speech ; 
 Gen. Scott, put forward by the anti-slavery 
 Whigs, and therefore rejected by the south 
 ern wing of the party; and President Fill- 
 more, an eager friend of the compromise, 
 and popular among the pro-slavery Whigs. 
 
 For the first time in many years, Clay was 
 not a candidate. He had again been asked 
 by zealous followers, in 1851, to allow his 
 name to be presented, but his answer was 
 unequivocal and direct. The overpowering 
 ambition had been finally crushed. How 
 unfortunate that he had allowed it to abide 
 with him so constantly. It is a great mis 
 take for a public man to set his heart on the 
 presidency. The road to that shining 
 summit of political glory is strewn with bro 
 ken hearts and shattered hopes. 
 
 Clay s advice to the Whigs, that they nom 
 inate Fillmore, was rejected by the national 
 convention, which met in Baltimore on June 
 10. It was a disorderly meeting, a careful 
 observer could see the lines of cleavage widen 
 ing between the two political hemispheres that 
 were to fall apart within another four years. 
 The south brought along its platform and its 
 candidate. The platform was ratified, "but the 
 candidate rejected, and Gen. Scott, a man 
 with anti-slavery convictions, nominated. 
 
 It was the last Whig national convention. 
 It nominated a liberty candidate on a slav- 
 
276 Five American Politicians 
 
 ery platform. While it was thus inviting 
 the discord that led to its ruin, the founder 
 of the party was quietly passing away. Be 
 fore he died, Clay expressed his approval of 
 the work of the last national convention of 
 the party he had founded. The Democrats, 
 with their candidate, Franklin Pierce, of 
 New Hampshire, "a no rthern man with 
 southern principles," triumphed at the elec 
 tion. The coalition dissolved, the real issue 
 was espoused by the new Republican party, 
 and the term " Whig " became a name known 
 only to our political history. 
 
 On June 29, 1852, Henry Clay died. 
 Neither sickness, nor death, could rob him 
 of the affection of the people. His son 
 Thomas wrote on May 8: "Had you seen, 
 as I have, the evidences of attachment and 
 interest displayed by my father s friends, 
 you could not help exclaiming, as he fre 
 quently has done, was there ever man had 
 such friends ! The best and first in the 
 land are daily and hourly offering tokens of 
 their love and esteem for him." As in life 
 he had been the center of affection, so in sick 
 ness he became the center of tender solici 
 tude, and in death the center of universal 
 sorrow. On July 1, after impressive cere 
 monies in the senate chamber, attended by 
 senators and representatives, the President 
 and his cabinet, the supreme court and the 
 diplomatic corps, the officers of the army 
 and the navy, the body began its last jour- 
 
Henry Clay 277 
 
 ney to the old Kentucky home. Even in death 
 Henry Clay had his progress. The funeral 
 train passed through Baltimore, Wilmington, 
 Philadelphia, Trenton, New York, Albany, 
 Ithaca, Syracuse, Rochester, Buffalo, Cleve 
 land, Columbus, Cincinnati, Louisville. 
 Everywhere were throngs, not exultant in 
 their loud huzzahs, but silent with grief and 
 sorrow. They buried him in Lexington, the 
 little city that had grown great because of 
 his greatness, and that he loved so devotedly. 
 
 We cannot but pause and reflect upon the 
 strange vicissitudes and paradoxes of this 
 unfortunate and fascinating man, who was 
 at once the most applauded and most de 
 feated, the most glorified and most humbled 
 man in our history. From the day of his 
 majority, to the very moment of his death, 
 in his seventy-sixth year, he was a leader of 
 men. What contributions to our politics 
 did he make in this half century of unpar 
 alleled activity? To determine this we must 
 view his career in its threefold nature, as 
 statesman, as politician, as orator. 
 
 The statesmanship of Henry Clay was ag 
 gressive, and yet he was on the defensive in 
 nearly every administration under which he 
 served. Reading the history of his day 
 alone, his statesmanship seems an utter fail 
 ure, yet careful scrutiny will reveal the perma 
 nency of his work. The issues to which he 
 dedicated his powers " were the tantt, trie 
 
278 Five American Politicians 
 
 b&nk, and injma^4ipFOTemeft%s. Tariff 
 "legislation, from its very nature, cannot be 
 permanent, it rises and falls with the tide of 
 business. In his day the argument of pro 
 tection to infant industries was logical. The 
 opposition he encountered was from the 
 planters, and with singular blindness he 
 failed to see that it was not agriculture, but 
 slavery, that opposed his American system. 
 His projects for vast systems of canals and 
 turnpikes were forestalled by the invention 
 of the steam engine. If the railway had not 
 woven the country into unity with its net 
 work of steel, there can remain no doubt that 
 the waterways and roadways advocated by 
 Clay, would have become a necessity. Of 
 the national bank, it can be said that it is 
 jstill a problem, inviting the advocacy and 
 the opposition of the most enlightened minds 
 of the land. It is commendation enough to 
 say that Clay s position was not greatly un 
 like that of Alexander Hamilton and Albert 
 Gallatin, our two greatest masters of finance, 
 and it is sufficient praise to reflect that in the 
 time of our national crisis, the Supreme Court 
 sustained his contention of the power of the 
 federal government to establish such fiscal 
 agencies, and that to-day his own arguments 
 I are rehearsed by publicists and financiers, 
 lin behalf of a national bank. 
 
 His failures were more real in the minor is 
 sues that engaged his thought. His public- 
 land prospect was short-sighted, he really 
 
Henry Clay 279 
 
 failed to discern the importance of these vast 
 public domains, in spite of his exuberant 
 faith in the unlimited possibilities of the 
 west. His scheme of distributing the pub 
 lic surplus among the various states cannot 
 commend itself to wise statesmanship. His 
 Panama mission suffered a pitiable collapse, 
 and he utterly misjudged the temperament 
 of the South American republics, in his eager 
 ness to defend their liberties against the en 
 croachments of royalty. 
 
 His greatest contribution to American 
 statesmanship he made in his heroic endeavors 
 to save the union by compromise. The last re 
 sort of hostile convictions is war. The most 
 awful species of war is civil war. Clay ded 
 icated himself with heroic devotion to the 
 averting of civil war. We may say that he 
 failed to see the real issue in his Missouri 
 Compromise, and in the tariff compromise 
 of 1833; that he did not distinguish between 
 economic fallacy and a moral wrong; that 
 his theory of conciliation and forbearance 
 merely put off, until the bloody morrow, the 
 fierce fight that might have been fought to 
 day; that compromise with such an issue is 
 wicked procrastination. For us these words 
 are lightly spoken; for those who lived and 
 moved in those fervid, intense, ante-bellum 
 days, they were weighted with lead. Clay 
 was superficial. A brilliant man is rarely 
 profound. He did fail to see the gist of the 
 Missouri question and the nullification the- 
 
280 Five American Politicians 
 
 ory. He did fail to peer far enough into the 
 undisclosed future to see that free and bond 
 labor could not endure side by side in a re 
 public. He did fail to make a moral issue 
 of slavery. And his compromises did perish 
 with the years. But let us reflect that with 
 each succeeding compromise he strengthened 
 the sinews of the north. For Calhoun was 
 right when he said that delay weakened 
 slavery and strengthened the free states. 
 While he failed to see that war must ulti 
 mately settle the great issue, he shortened 
 the evils of that inevitable struggle, by giv 
 ing the north time to outstrip its enemy in 
 every activity of life. In the light of his 
 tory, we may be thankful that the civil war 
 was not precipitated in 1830, or 1833, or 
 1850. 
 
 And yet, how futile seem the fifty years of 
 Henry Clay s statesmanship! His war of 
 1812 brought us no substantial gain. His 
 compromise of 1820 was repealed in thirty- 
 four years. His compromise of 1833 lasted 
 only twenty years by its own terms. The 
 crowning compromise of 1850 perished after 
 ten miserable years of existence. What 
 product of his statecraft remains as an en 
 during monument to his genius? We can 
 only reply, that it is the mission of the com 
 promiser to prepare great issues for the full 
 ness of time. 
 
 Were his contributions to politics less 
 transitory? He created a party and it was 
 
Henry Clay 281 
 
 buried with him ; he brought together strange 
 elements in a national coalition, and his com 
 bination could not survive him; he was for 
 twenty-five years an aspirant for the presi 
 dency, three times as chosen candidate be 
 fore the people, and twice as rejected candi 
 date before the national convention, and his 
 constant ambition was rewarded only by con 
 stant defeat. 
 
 While Clay was a chieftain in congress, he; 
 was a poor party leader. His political judg 
 ment went astray too often to make him 
 safe. He was a magnificent fighter, but he 
 could not discern the proper moment of at 
 tack. He was heroic in action, but not ju 
 dicious in deliberation. He was an imperi 
 ous parliamentarian, but an unskilled party 
 .boss. He grew impatient of party machin 
 ery and party discipline was distasteful to; 
 him. He hated caucuses, and despised con 
 ventions; he deemed them manufactories 
 where little men are inflated into greatness, 
 for party purposes. When running for con 
 gress, he ran independently. And he had 
 only one canvass, in 1816, in which he had 
 to contend with opposition. He had voted 
 for the "compensation act," granting con 
 gressmen a yearly salary of $1,500, in place 
 of a per diem wage. This act was unpopular 
 in the west, where the pay was considered 
 extravagant. His opponent was John Pope, 
 a brave soldier, who later became Jackson s 
 governor of Arkansas. The two rivals made 
 
282 Five American Politicians 
 
 a personal canvass of the three counties in 
 their district, and closed the campaign with 
 a joint meeting in the middle of the district. 
 Here Clay easily triumphed. His eloquence 
 in laying bare the attitude of Pope, the Fed 
 eralist, on this war of 1812, was potent, and 
 he was reflected by a majority of 600. ^- 
 This anecdote illustrates Clay s political 
 methods. A man of his superior endow 
 ments despises artifice and conventionality. 
 His politics were personal, his appeals, his 
 onslaughts, were personal. He depended 
 neither on patronage, nor on organization 
 , for his prestige, he shone with a native bril- 
 j liancy that despised reflected light, 
 t But such personal powers cannot be a sub- 
 \ stitute for a national party organization. 
 Judgment, care, direction, organization, 
 are needed to maintain an army of voters in 
 the battle field. Clay s genius unfitted him 
 for such leadership. In his own candidacies 
 he manifested very poor judgment. He 
 was always in high place when a candidate 
 for the Presidency, as speaker, or as sen 
 ator. Thus he laid himself open to attack 
 and made enemies. He could not see, or he 
 would not, why unknown men always de 
 feated him. He complained bitterly of this 
 degradation. "If there is no chance for 
 elections, the Gallant Harry of the West will 
 be good enough for nomination, but if there 
 is a chance, the union will be searched for a 
 military man, whose principles are un- 
 
Henry Clay 283 
 
 known, to lead the party into fields of pat 
 ronage." Yet Henry Clay made himself 
 unavailable by his persistent application of/ 
 mis judgment. The one election that might 
 have brought him the golden crown, he lost 
 by compromising with his better self. His 
 over-anxiety impelled him to write the Ala-j 
 bama letters on Texas. But Clay would 
 never admit that his defeat in 1844 could be 
 attributed to this source. It is strange that 
 he could not see the popular side of a ques 
 tion, and he constantly mistook the plaud-^j 
 its his personality inspired, for applause of ; 
 the issues he defended. His attitude on the 
 bank question was ill chosen. He might, 
 without jeopardy to his convictions, have 
 postponed his severe hostility to Jackson, 
 until after the election of 1832. His per 
 sistence on the old Whig issues after time 
 had made them obsolete, when Texas, Mex 
 ico, Oregon were the words that tingled in 
 the ears of the voters, reveal a want of keen 
 political insight. For the rising school of 
 politicians he had only haughty contempt. 
 The tactics of Thurlow Weed, and his hench 
 men, were as disquieting to his soul as they 
 ^Wre destructive to his aspirations. 
 
 Clay, as a politician, was too ingenuous. 
 His political talents were those of a com 
 mander, but not of a plotter. Thus it was 
 that he could gather a coalition, but he; 
 could not lead it to victory; he could com-" 
 mand admiration, but he could not command 
 
284 Five American Politicians 
 
 \ 
 
 majorities. His coalition went to pieces on 
 the reefs of slavery. \ 
 
 Do you ask if henad seen more clearly 
 the real issue at the heart of all these surface 
 agitations, and had boldly espoused the cause 
 of anti-slavery, whether his party could not 
 have been more enduring? I reply, that 
 such espousal in his day would have ruined 
 his influence and dissipated his powers. He 
 might as well have scattered his talents to 
 the four winds. He lived in the day of 
 " avoidance, all his great contemporaries 
 avoided the slavery issue. A political coali 
 tion is never permanent. Too many di 
 verse opinions are merged for a temporary 
 purpose. These various elements will rub 
 and chafe one another until the friction gen 
 erates a heat that will prove destructive. 
 Clay s coalition could not be enduring. 
 TWhen the immediate objects for which it 
 | was formed were attained, it could not unite 
 ( on the Great Issue, and it fell to pieces. 
 \ The various masses that constituted its 
 bulk rearranged themselves into more per 
 manent forms around the slavery issue. 
 
 Transitory, therefore, were his attain 
 ments in politics. But again, we may say 
 that the politics of a compromiser can be no 
 mjjcejasting than his compromises. 
 
 Whatever may be said of the futility of 
 Clay s statesmanship, or the failure of his 
 politics, upon his oratory there can be only 
 one judgment. With the mystery of speech 
 
Henry Clay 285 
 
 he wrought miracles of power. The tales 
 that are related of his oratorical triumphs 
 seem more fitted for the pages of Arabian 
 Nights than the prosaic record of American 
 politics. Every endowment of nature in 
 tended to enhance the personal power of 
 man over his fellows was lavished upon him. 
 Physically, he was magnificent, tall, lithe, 
 symmetrical; when roused by the passion of 
 his convictions he swayed and moved like 
 the graceful boughs of the elm in a breeze. 
 His head was large and set all the phrenolo 
 gists agog. His brow was high and magnifi 
 cently arched. His eyes were small and 
 blue, not lowering, like Webster s, but sunny 
 and kind. When he got excited they seemed 
 to change color. All of his features were as 
 generous in area as his disposition. His 
 nose was large, his ears prominent, his 
 mouth was huge, with remarkable powers of 
 expansion, his arms and legs were long, his 
 feet and hands very ample. In his old age 
 men crowded around him for a handclasp 
 and ladies for a kiss; his hands and mouth 
 were ample for all demands. 
 
 His mind was not profound like Webster s, 
 nor narrow like Calhoun s, nor logical like 
 Benton s. It was broad and shallow, and } 
 delighted rather in the pleasant ripples of 
 the surface than in the great currents of the 
 abyss. Profundity is not a desideratum 
 to the orator. His effect must be produced 
 instantaneously, not after meditation. 
 
286 Five American Politicians 
 
 ( In temperament, Clay was the most lova- 
 l ble of men. He was as winning as a woman, 
 as strong as any man. He was kind, gen 
 erous, never bitter, or mean; he was tropical 
 f in the luxury of his warmth. So magnetic 
 \ was his personality that it attracted even his 
 1 bitterest foes. Andrew Jackson was per 
 haps his only enemy whose hatred was not 
 allayed by the sweetness of Clay s disposi 
 tion. His temperament was always san 
 guine. The many clouds that passed the 
 zenith of his skies were transitory, no calam 
 ity could shake his faith, no defeat dishearten 
 \ him. Time did not make him sour, he grew 
 I mellow with the passing seasons. His last 
 j years were his best. Age did not wither him 
 to parchment, as it did Calhoun, nor fill his 
 soul with gall, as it did Webster s. A man 
 with such a disposition loves people. Clay 
 loved crowds, he was a mixer, a wonderful 
 favorite, a household god. 
 
 His home was a museum of gifts. People 
 from every state and territory sent him all 
 imaginable sorts of things. In the National 
 Hotel, where he lived in Washington, he had 
 a cellar wherein the landlord stored the food 
 that was sent to him. There was constantly 
 on hand a plethora of wines, fruits, veget 
 ables, fowl, game, venison, beef, mutton, 
 every conceivable edible that the imagina 
 tion of a gastronomer can conjure up. These 
 gifts he would dispense at table, discussing 
 interestingly the traits of the donor, or de- 
 
Henry Clay 
 
 287 
 
 scribing minul 
 
 the articles. fOften, in the hotel dining room, 
 after a meal,the people would move their chairs 
 around him to hear him discourse upon some 
 favorite theme. When he began to speak, 
 whether in the parlor or on the platform, in 
 the senate or in the open air, he held all men 
 in the hollow of his hand. His was preemi 
 nently the oratorical temperament. 
 
 And his voice lent every aid to his tem 
 perament. His voice was a marvel. If we \ 
 are to believe the wonderful stories that are 
 told of its marvelous v power, we can compare it 
 only to an organ, or rather to a full .orchestra. 
 ItTcould range all the octaves and command 
 ..every pitch. It could whisper or roar, sing 
 lullabys or shriek, it could be delicious, 
 sweet, insinuating, or wild, terrible, denun- 
 ciating, gentle as a breeze, or fierce as a tor 
 nado. Its carrying powers were as remark 
 able as its quality. He loved to speak out of 
 doors, where he could reach the multitudes 
 by the thousands. This voice Clay had 
 under perfect control. He was 
 rhrmtmT 
 
 With sueh-^Tbody, such a mind, such a 
 temperament and such a voice, his powers 
 of speech would yet have failed had he not 
 known how to use them. His mastery of his 
 talents was complete and absolute. He mar 
 shalled words into sonorous sentences with 
 out effort. The flowers of speech sprung into 
 bloom along every pathway of his thought. 
 
288 Five American Politicians 
 
 The colorings of his imagery were as glorious 
 and natural as the tintings of an oriental 
 fabric. He never seemed to exhaust the 
 resources of his eloquence. After his greatest 
 speeches, those on the tariff of 1833, the 
 protest of 1834, the sub-treasury bill of 1838, 
 and the compromise of 1850, every listener felt 
 that were it necessary the orator could re 
 double his efforts and not drain the reserve 
 power of his talents. 
 
 /I His eloquence was perfectly natural. It 
 was not gleaned from books, but from ex 
 perience. He used with facility every wea 
 pon in the arsenal of speech. He could be 
 sarcastic and galling, could inveigh and 
 taunt, could be joyous and solemn, could be 
 serious and burlesque. While he lacked 
 Webster s logic, or Chatham s force, he ex 
 celled both in the diversity of his attacks 
 and the natural grace of his delivery, be 
 cause he was an orator by the gift of nature, 
 not by the culture of man. Thus his speech 
 was always easy, conversational, graceful, 
 dignified, though never pompous, as that of 
 a mere stump orator. He never seemed to 
 try to form sentences, because effort was 
 superfluous to his talents. 
 
 He was an aetor, and spoke with his whole 
 .body. He was impressive even when he 
 paused in his speech to take a pinch of snuff 
 or use his handkerchief. His gestures were 
 always manly, as was his sentiment and his 
 vocabulary. He always appealed to the 
 
Henry Clay 289 
 
 noble, the lofty, never to the prejudices or to 
 vulgar passions. His appeal was to the 
 greatness of man, not to his littleness. I 
 
 He was always dramatic. WhefTne de 
 nounced Jackson for appointing his servile 
 follower, Amos Kendall, superintendent of 
 the state bank, he ended a withering accusa 
 tion by stretching his arms full length, ris 
 ing on tiptoe and with a terrible frown and 
 a voice thundering disgust to the vaulted 
 roof of the old senate chamber, and yelling : 
 "An agent was sent out to sound the local 
 institutions as to the terms on which they 
 would receive deposits, an agent was sent 
 out," and the voice rose to a shriek, "and 
 such an agent! " 
 
 Some time later, when a Virginia D 
 crat had been named by the President as 
 Ambassador to England, one Whig vote was 
 necessary to confirm the appointment. One 
 of the leading Whigs was rumored to have 
 made a bargain and had promised to deliver 
 the necessary vote. Clay heard of this on 
 the very day the vote was to be taken. Be 
 fore the roll call he arose and began to dis 
 sect the life of the proposed ambassador. 
 When he had done so, he pulled himself up 
 to his full height, turned full on the suspect, 
 transfixed him with his penetrating eye, and 
 screamed: "And now, what Whig would 
 vote for this man? And what Whig would 
 promise to vote for this man? And what 
 Whig, having promised, would dare to keep 
 
290 Five American Politicians 
 
 that promise?" The renegade Whig slunk 
 out of the room, his promise broken. 
 
 "On the Monday following Calhoun s death, 
 a vast crowd sought the senate chamber. 
 Webster, Clay and Benton were to speak. 
 Clay arose and spoke quietly, dwelling large 
 ly upon personal reminiscences. Gradually 
 his speech became more animated. Then 
 turning to the vacant chair, he simply 
 asked: "When shall that great vacancy 
 be filled?" The manner of his asking left 
 room for only one reply, and everyone 
 within hearing of that marvelous voice in- 
 
 In his last great debate, on the comprom 
 ise of 1850, he showed forth his adroitness as 
 a floor manager, and his personal magnetism. 
 It was a daily fight, he was constantly har- 
 rassed by Benton, the leader of the opposi 
 tion. One day he arose to make a motion, 
 he stated it in his sweetest voice, and in a 
 tranquil manner asked its adoption. Then 
 he paused, looked across the chamber where 
 Benton sat, glowering and unmoved. Their 
 eyes met. Clay lifted his arm and shook 
 his finger menacingly. " And now let us see," 
 he exclaimed in majestic tones, "whether 
 the pacification of this country is longer to 
 be hindered." He shook his broad shoulders 
 like a lion, and rose to magnificent heights. 
 The sentences poured forth as in former 
 days. But his strength failed him and he 
 was soon compelled to call back his ener- 
 
Henry Clay 291 
 
 gies. "Ah," he said, "I left a sick room 
 this morning, at the call of my country." 
 
 The effect of such an unpremeditated, 
 such an unlimited stream of eloquence, was 
 perfectly natural. It swept every one on 
 ward in its resistless torrent. No other ora 
 tor in American history, perhaps not in the 
 history of any land, spoke to such crowds 
 as surged around the platforms where Henry 
 Clay was advertised to speak. The effect of 
 his words upon the multitudes was miracu 
 lous. They wept, they shouted for joy, they 
 wrung their hands in grief, they tossed their 
 hats into the air in deliriums of frenzy; they 
 would listen with deathlike stillness to his 
 whispers, and would respond to his thunders 
 with yells and shrieks. He swayed them in 
 unison with his sentiments. They waxed 
 wroth with his temper, they wept with him, 
 they laughed with him, they grew scornful 
 as he grew sarcastic, and enthusiastic as he 
 rose to the majesty of conviction. They 
 followed him from town to town reluctant 
 to say farewell to the enchanter. CTHenry 
 Clay could have gathered all the voters of 
 the land under one roof, he would have been 
 unanimously chosen president by acclama 
 tion. \ And this was not the power of words, 
 nof -m logic, nor of sentiment. It was the 
 power of personality, the subtle influence of 
 the actor-orator. His best speeches were his 
 impromptu efforts. It is a matter of regret 
 that they were spoken before the days of 
 
292 Five American Politicians 
 
 stenographers. Such of his speeches as are 
 
 preserved for us, do not reveal the power 
 
 that was pent up in thier spoken sentences. 
 
 jThe dynamics of Clay s oratory lay in his 
 
 x *^ delivery, in his acting. Wherever his voice 
 
 was heard there was rapture and delight. 
 
 Anct^these powers shone resplendent 
 amidst a galaxy of brilliant contemporaries. 
 Think of Clay s co-workers ! There were the 
 polished orators Preston, Corwin, Everett, 
 Hayne and Prentiss ; there were the debaters 
 Wright, Douglas, Berrien; there were the 
 renowned advocates Pinkney, West and 
 Choate; there were the famous statesmen 
 Adams, Benton and Cass. Among those 
 giants he moved. To them he was a leader. 
 
 There were two other men then active 
 upon the stage of public life whose talents 
 linked them to Clay in an immortal trinity 
 of genius, Webster and Calhoun. We cannot 
 reflect upon that stirring middle period of 
 our history that brought forth nationalism 
 out of the throes of sectional violence, with 
 out having these three leaders constantly 
 before our mind. How diverse were their 
 talents, yet how preeminent; how varied 
 their convictions, yet how sincere. Around 
 this trinity of leaders clustered the other men 
 of the time like satellites around a sun. In 
 them were incarnate the three ruling prin 
 ciples that sought victory at the people s 
 tribunes. Calhoun, the incarnation of state- 
 rights; Webster, the incarnation of the 
 
Henry Clay 293 
 
 Union, "one and inseparable"; Clay, the 
 incarnation of the Union, "pacified and rec 
 onciled/ Clay was the mediator between 
 Calhoun and Webster, between New Eng 
 land and South Carolina. Calhoun was dis 
 tinguished for his logic, Webs terjoj: his argu 
 ments, (o|;^1^ Jiisi^Io quence Jf Calhoun 
 planned disunion " by a 16gic"so insinuating, 
 so subtle, that it captured the learned as well 
 as the unlearned. Webster defended the 
 Union with constitutional arguments, so 
 true, so lofty, and so majestic that they will 
 be a never failing source of patriotism for 
 all time. \ Clay pleaded for the Union with 
 such moderation and such glowing eloquence 
 that his compromises were adopted, and he 
 was hailed as the savior of the Union. Cal 
 houn discerned in slavery no wrong but a 
 positive good; Webster perceived in slavery 
 a constitutional menace; Clay saw in slav 
 ery an institutional danger. The ultimate 
 goal of Calhoun s logic was secession. Had 
 Webster carried his constitutional argument 
 to its final conclusion, he would have been 
 in accord with Chase and Seward, ready to 
 defend the Union and the constitution with the 
 force of arms. To Clay, there was only one 
 ultimate goal, peace, compromise, and by its 
 very nature, that goal could never be ulti 
 mate. Calhoun died at his post, before the 
 last compromise was passed. Within a dec 
 ade, his state led the ranks of secession, put 
 ting to the test of war the philosophy of 
 
294 Five American Politicians 
 
 her greatest son. Two years later Clay 
 
 joined his great antagonist. He saw his 
 
 compromise adopted by the two great parties 
 
 the very summer of his death. His closing 
 
 f eyes might have read the signs of national 
 
 / dissolution, but he died in the faith that his 
 
 1 compromise was final. Four months later 
 
 Webster followed his great compeer; the 
 
 Union he had so profoundly loved seemed 
 
 secure, but his heart was heavy with the 
 
 burden of defeat, and his mind filled with 
 
 the foreboding of disunion. 
 
 The Union is the answer to this trinity of 
 logic, argument and eloquence. To the logic 
 of Calhoun it answers, the tyholp-is greater 
 than a part; the argumenT"of Webster 
 it affirms with an amended constitution; to 
 the eloquence of Clay it responds, while the 
 spirit of compromise is beautiful and lovely, 
 there can be no enduring conciliation be 
 tween right and wrong. 
 
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS 
 
 DEFENDER OF STATE S RIGHTS AND OF 
 NATIONALISM 
 
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS 
 
 DEFENDER OF STATE S RIGHTS AND 
 OF NATIONALISM 
 
 F^OLITICAL philosophy does not make 
 a nation until it is written in living 
 letters and recorded in the book of 
 experience. The theory of a union of inde 
 pendent states bound by an indissoluble 
 bond to a national government was unques 
 tionably the thought of a majority of the 
 constitutional fathers. Had economic and 
 social conditions been uniform in every por 
 tion of our domain there would probably 
 have been no necessity for a severe struggle 
 in working out the practical realization of 
 this theory. But, unfortunately, this uni 
 formity did not exist. One part of the na 
 tion held that the component units of the 
 nation were so utterly free that they could 
 do as they chose ; another part held that the 
 states were free in municipal affairs, but 
 unfree in national affairs. One section be 
 lieved that state rights extended even into 
 the realm of state anarchy, where every 
 commonwealth could break away from every 
 other and establish itself in isolation; the 
 other section believed that self-destruction 
 was not one of the liberties contemplated 
 
298 Five American Politicians 
 
 by the voluntary union of the original thir 
 teen states. One school of political phil 
 osophy assumed that the constitution was a 
 mere transitory compact; the opposing 
 school affirmed that the constitution was a 
 solemn and eternal obligation. One coterie 
 of statesmen maintained that we are an ag 
 gregation of independent units; the other 
 maintained that we are a nation of co-equal 
 commonwealths. The real issue was, Are 
 we a confederation or a nation? Does an 
 eternal and necessary gravitation unite these 
 states into a galaxy of stars, or does chance 
 decree that we are only a temporary group of 
 comets, thrown into company by coincidence? 
 
 One hundred years were necessary to solve 
 the question. Every conceivable method 
 of adjustment between the diverse elements 
 was attempted. The great compromises 
 all failed, because the ultimate basis of the 
 question was a moral Basis, and there can be 
 no lasting cement between right and wrong. 
 The final struggle was made inevitable. 
 After compromise, war. But before the 
 civil war was actually begun, there took 
 place that fierce, final and frantic attempt of 
 slavery to fasten itself upon the territories. 
 In "squatter sovereignty" you behold the 
 ultimate logic of state rights. And Stephen 
 A. Douglas was the brilliant champion of 
 this territorial home rule. 
 
 Douglas was born in Brandon, Vermont, 
 on the 23rd day of April. 1813. His father 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 299 
 
 was a skilful physician, and his mother a 
 woman of unusual mental prowess. The 
 father died when Stephen was only two 
 months old. A bachelor brother of the 
 widow provided a home for them. Stephen 
 attended the village school and grew T into a 
 reckless little dare-devil, who would swim the 
 mill-pond to spite his teacher and pommel 
 his playmates for sheer love of combat. He 
 was a bright boy with his books, and wished 
 to go to college. But his uncle was "close," 
 and instead of going to college Stephen, at the 
 age of fifteen, was apprenticed to a cabinet 
 maker in Middlebury. His master was a 
 good-natured deacon, who allowed the ap 
 prentice boy time to read his favorite books, 
 the lives of Napoleon and of Caesar and of 
 Alexander, heroes whose traditions he wove 
 into every phase of his own career. In truth 
 he was the Little Napoleon of the village. 
 He led the young people in combat and de 
 bate. The prophecy of his babyhood that 
 he would grow into a great giant remained 
 unfulfilled. He became the "Little Giant" 
 instead, scarcely five feet in height, and 
 while he weighed, tradition says, 14 pounds 
 when he was born, he could scarcely summon 
 140 pounds when he developed into man 
 hood. Nor was his health robust. Through 
 out his early life he was compelled to suffer 
 bodily discomforts. But Stephen in spite of 
 his pygmy stature and frail health was re 
 markably muscular and fond of a fight. One 
 
300 Five American Politicians 
 
 night, on his way home from some social 
 festivity, he whipped every youth in the 
 village because of some insult offered his 
 sweetheart. The actions of the man were 
 foretold by the predilections of the boy. 
 His apprenticeship lasted only two years; 
 it was cut short by his illness. He returned 
 to Brandon and studied in the local academy 
 for one year. 
 
 About this time his mother married a 
 lawyer of some means and Stephen was sent 
 to the Canandaigua Academy, in New York, 
 a school then famous throughout that sec 
 tion of the country. Here he studied three 
 years with great zeal and success. The 
 classics and forensics especially called forth 
 his enthusiasm and he became the leader in 
 all debates and speaking contests. During 
 his leisure moments he read law. 
 
 In June, 1833, he journeyed to the new 
 west in quest of health and fortune. When 
 he reached Cleveland, Ohio, his health suc 
 cumbed completely to the prevalent malaria. 
 Acting on the advice of his physician he 
 journeyed farther, immediately on his re 
 covery. But he fared little better in Cin 
 cinnati, Louisville and St. Louis. He start 
 ed northward from St. Louis for Chicago, 
 but when he arrived at Jacksonville, 111., 
 he found his funds reduced to thirty-seven 
 cents. He was compelled to sell some of his 
 books for bread, and to look for work in 
 stead of await clients. He heard that in 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 301 
 
 the little village of Winchester, a few miles 
 distant from Jacksonville, there was need 
 of a school, and so thither he went, early in 
 November, 1833. Good fortune awaited 
 him in this obscure frontier hamlet. A 
 country auctioneer who was plying his voca 
 tion on the village green, caught sight of 
 young Douglas and beckoned him. "Can 
 you figure at $2.00 a day? " he asked. " And 
 board!" added the bankrupt. The bargain 
 was struck and Douglas became the clerk of 
 the auctioneer. This position served as a 
 natural introduction for the prospective 
 schoolmaster. The auction lasted three days 
 and by that time the young man had won 
 his way into the hearts of the villagers by 
 his ready wit, his vigorous defense of Presi 
 dent Jackson, then the idol of the frontiers 
 man, and his ability at figures. He organ 
 ized a school in the village and it proved as 
 popular as its master. It was in the days 
 of " boarding around/ and Douglas dis 
 played a remarkable faculty for ingratiating 
 himself into the hearts of his patrons. 
 
 That winter he was admitted to the bar 
 and the following year he was elected prose 
 cuting attorney. His home county, Morgan 
 county, was a Whig stronghold, and the 
 young politician now addressed himself to 
 the task of making it Democratic. He set 
 out to organize every township, and knit 
 these local organizations into a firm county 
 machine. The custom had been to allow 
 
302 Five American Politicians 
 
 several candidates in each party to stand 
 for the various offices. Indeed, whoever 
 wanted to run for office could do so without 
 any particular party sanction. This loose, 
 haphazard method Douglas discarded, and 
 in its place he put his compact, united or 
 ganization, that chose the candidates and 
 directed the campaign. This vigorous party 
 discipline wrested victory from the Whigs, 
 Douglas himself being among the victors, 
 the choice of his neighbors as their represent 
 ative in the legislature. 
 
 Four months later President Van Buren 
 appointed Douglas register of the land office 
 at Springfield, and from the vantage ground 
 of the state capital, with the prestige of vic 
 tory and federal endorsement, he organized 
 every congressional district and county in the 
 state upon the plan of the Morgan County 
 Democracy. This became the "Douglas Ma 
 chine," that served as the practical basis of 
 the political advancement of its creator. 
 
 In 1837 he secured the Democratic nomi 
 nation for congress in the northern district 
 of his state. He was not yet 25 years old, 
 but he reached the requisite age before elec 
 tion day. There were 36,000 votes cast. It 
 is probable that Douglas had a majority, but 
 twenty ballots were thrown out by the can 
 vassers because his name was misspelled, 
 and his Whig opponent, John T. Stuart, a 
 law partner of Abraham Lincoln, was de 
 clared elected by a majority of five votes. 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 33 
 
 For three years Douglas devoted himself 
 to his law practice. He became a successful 
 criminal lawyer, winning the juries and free 
 ing the culprits with such uniformity that 
 his talents almost became a menace to so 
 ciety. 
 
 In 1840 he became secretary of state, and 
 a year later he was appointed to the supreme 
 bench of Illinois. This position he held for 
 three years, when he was elected to congress 
 for three successive terms. His first ma 
 jority was 400, his second 1900, and his third 
 3000. In 1847, before the expiration of his 
 third term, he was elected United States 
 senator, which position he held until his death. 
 
 The fourteen years that intervened be 
 tween his advent in Illinois and his entrance 
 into the United States senate served to ma 
 ture the political methods of Douglas, to 
 gether with his political theories, his ambi 
 tions a/nd his p^r^rmlity ~^ 
 
 Of his political methods, it must be said 
 that he united the wiles of a machine politi 
 cian with the ardent temperament of a good 
 fellow and the natural talents of a successful 
 public speaker. This blending makes a for 
 midable politician. For when talent lags, 
 and good fellowship sickens, then there re 
 mains the inexorable, iron organization. 
 Douglas remains one of the great political 
 organizers of our history. 
 
 His political theories were absorbed from 
 Andrew Jackson. He was first of all a Demo- 
 
304 Five American Politicians 
 
 crat according to the pure etymology of that 
 word. He believed in diffusing govern 
 mental power among the people, the great 
 masses, not in concentrating it within a 
 , the aristocrats, the rich, or the favored. 
 A centralized national government was still 
 a bogey-man in American politics. Then he 
 was a western Democrat, a rampant believer 
 in the power of the people to govern them 
 selves. He partook freely of the frontier 
 doctrine that the nation should grow and 
 spread itself over this vast continent, from 
 ocean to ocean. On the question of internal 
 improvements he had no quarrel with the 
 Whigs. Tariff troubled him but little and 
 slavery had scarcely become an issue when 
 he essayed into national politics. Alto 
 gether, Douglas s political theories were 
 more in the nature of vague generalities 
 than of precise philosophy. But he had one 
 unalterable conviction: the absolute neces 
 sity of local self-government, of state auton 
 omy under the federal government. An all- 
 sufficient, faithful, rough, true-hearted, fron 
 tier democracy found in Douglas a perfect 
 leader. 
 
 Just when Douglas became conscious of 
 his consuming ambition to become President 
 is not apparent. The desire probably grad 
 ually came upon him, as he rose, in marvel 
 ous rapidity from one position of political 
 eminence to another. But long before his 
 first term in the senate expired he was mas- 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 35 
 
 tered by this ambition. To its overlordship - 
 he was willing to submit everything except 
 honor__and convicjjjQn. It is commonly be 
 lieved thatlie^even surrendered principle and 
 integrity in his Kansas-Nebraska struggle. 
 Unfortunately, in those fateful days, he did 
 dally with compromise and coquette with 
 the slavery extensionists. But in the light 
 of his subsequent career, his unswerving 
 consistency in adhering to the principles of 
 popular sovereignty and his loyalty to the 
 Union, let us not accuse him of prostituting 
 principle to ambition. j 
 
 His nature abounded in the personal traits 
 that made the successful frontiers politician, 
 and the early circuit of the frontier brought 
 out these traits in richest profusion. It was 
 the okien time of "Merrie Illinois/ when 
 lawyers on horseback followed the circuit 
 judges from town to town. XHospitality and 
 familiarity were universal. /Kindness aboun- 
 ed with the rough backwoods humor and 
 banter of travel and tavern. Feats of phys 
 ic aljskill were esteemed _ above | logic anjfl song 
 aflxT story" wereT more, desired ifhTnjjhilos- 
 opliy . 
 
 The traditions of those days assure us 
 that Douglas amply fulfilled all these require 
 ments. His physical courage and strength 
 were as unusual as his stature. When on the 
 bench, he tried the case of one Joe Smith, a 
 notorious murderer. A wild mob gathered 
 
 in the jail-yard, erected a gibbet, and pressed 
 20 
 
306 Five American Politicians 
 
 into the court room to lay their unholy hands 
 upon the prisoner in the box. The sheriff 
 shrank from his post when he saw the de 
 termined avengers. But judge Douglas was 
 equal to the occasion. "Sheriff, clear the 
 court room ! " he yelled. The cowardly sher 
 iff hesitated. The judge shouted: "Mr. 
 Harris, I appoint you sheriff. Appoint your 
 deputies and clear this court room right 
 now!" Harris was a stalwart Kentuckian. 
 The peremptory and decisive action of the 
 judge cowed the mob and the room was 
 cleared without a struggle. The judge had 
 no legal right to appoint a sheriff, but Doug 
 las never allowed a technicality or a cere 
 mony to stand in the way of action or ne- 
 ^Mcessity. 
 
 -\V His muscular strength was phenomenal. 
 The pygmy, who was often held upon the 
 knees of his clients or constituents, as they 
 familiarly consul ted with him, was as powerful 
 as an ox. One day when boarding a Missis 
 sippi flatboat he was annoyed by a great, 
 brawling, rawboned braggart. "Who are 
 you, my big chicken?" Douglas asked. "I 
 am a high pressure steamer," the bully an 
 swered. "And I am a snag," said the 
 judge as he picked up the fellow and 
 pitched him into the mud. 
 
 If he abounded in that physical prowess 
 that delighted the early settlers he much 
 more abounded in the personal traits that 
 won their affection and compelled their 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 307 
 
 admiration. He was approachable to all. 
 His familiarity robbed him of dignity. He 
 was kind to a fault, a profuse story teller, 
 adroit at cards, responsive to appeal, had a 
 good memory for names, was not overbur 
 dened with egotism in its obtrusive form, 
 and his ever ready tongue won him always 
 the attention of the throng. He had a won 
 derfully winning personality, and few could 
 escape the captivating magnetism of his 
 presence. 
 
 /In spite of his diminutive stature, he was 
 handsome in appearance. His head was 
 massive and covered with a magnificent 
 shock of jet black hair, which he tossed back 
 when speaking, with a kingly gesture. His 
 features were large and well proportioned. 
 His eyes were restless, nothing escaped their 
 vigilance as they flitted about from object 
 to object, and when they fixed their gaze 
 they were piercing. His voice was superbly 
 adapted to the needs of outdoor speaking. 
 When on the platform, or in the court room, 
 his manner was bold and challenging. He 
 never evaded a conflict. It was this leonine 
 attitude, together with his tremendous 
 powers of speech and his stunted height, 
 that christened him early in his career as 
 
 N^The Little Giant." 
 
 ^-Intellectually he was superficial. He was 
 not a scholar. Neither was he a mere rhe 
 torician. But he had a flow of speech, un 
 adorned and unpretentious, captivating only 
 
 
308 Five American Politicians 
 
 in its astounding, never-failing volume, that 
 proved a ready substitute for logic and pro 
 fundity. 
 
 In temperament Douglas was imperious, 
 self-willed and unbending. He was suscep 
 tible to flattery, coveted glory, and sought 
 fame. These lefcs fortunate traits he was 
 capable of concealing underneath his talents 
 for good fellowship. But in his relentless 
 pursuit for the prize of his calling they bore 
 / a supreme part. For the reader must ever 
 bear in mind that Douglas was primarily a 
 j politician. He could never forget that he 
 needed votes. He courted big majorities. 
 He played for votes as a skilled angler plays 
 for fish. 
 
 This strong-willed, courageous, ambitious, 
 kind-souled, voluble, hand-shaking politi 
 cian had one great gift, the gift of 
 debate ; and he was entirely possessed of 
 the homely habit of constant industry. 
 This industry perfected his gift into genius, 
 and lifted him into national leadership 
 in the hour of the nation s great peril. It 
 is a strange anomaly of politics that the 
 place of Henry Clay, the Great Pacificator, 
 the founder and leader of the Whig party, 
 was taken by Stephen A. Douglas, the 
 Little Giant of the States Rights Cause, 
 the leader of the Democratic party. Such 
 can be the paradox of politics, for in logic 
 and in philosophy, if not in name and in 
 party jargon, Douglas was the lawful sue- 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 309 
 
 cessor of Clay, rather than of Calhoun. For 
 Calhoun s theory of state rights terminated 
 in nullification. Douglas s theory of popu 
 lar sovereignty terminated in municipal au 
 tonomy, but an autonomy held together 
 under the unifying web of nationalism. 
 While Douglas carried state rights into 
 the territories, he never adhered to the 
 opinion that a territory or a state could leave 
 the Union. . 
 
 It is necessary to understand this great 
 difference between the fatal state rights 
 views of Calhoun and the state rights views 
 of Douglas, if we are to gain a true concep 
 tion of his life and of the stupendous political 
 movements in which he was a leader. Cal 
 houn carried state s rights to the brink of 
 disunion, and was willing to push his South 
 Carolina into the abyss. Douglas carriecT"\ 
 state rights to the issue of war, but was 
 unwilling to allow one state or territory to/ 
 leave the Union. Calhounjoyedjbi^ state" 
 more than his nation^ Uouglas loved his"""*" 
 nation more than his theory, his state, or ]) 
 his ambition. 
 
 When he entered the house of repre 
 sentatives in 1843 he had paid little atten 
 tion to the slavery issue. His activities had 
 been confined to his state. He was a Jack 
 son Democrat of the most radical species, 
 accepting without doubt or question every 
 utterance of Jackson as dogma and every 
 act as justified. His first notable achieve- 
 
3io Five American Politicians 
 
 ment in congress was his speech in defense 
 of Jackson, and in favor of the bill refunding 
 the fine Judge Hall had imposed upon the 
 General in 1814 for declaring martial law in 
 New Orleans. Jackson cherished this speech 
 and wrote upon the margin of the copy he 
 filed away with his papers: "This speech 
 constitutes my defense. I lay it aside as an 
 inheritance for my grandchildren/ And 
 when the following year Douglas called at 
 " The Hermitage " the Sage bade him double 
 welcome and quite overwhelmed him with 
 kindness. 
 
 During his tenure in the house, Douglas 
 developed into a remarkable committee 
 worker and floor leader. He displayed that 
 /capacity for turning from politics to state- 
 / craft, changing from politician to states- 
 / man, that has characterized many of our 
 \great public men. His labors were as ardent 
 as they were unceasing, and as painstaking 
 as they were brilliant. He led the Demo 
 crats in those important movements, the 
 annexation of Texas, the war with Mexico, 
 the "Conquest of Oregon." 
 
 He entered the senate with the prestige 
 of a party chieftain. Every weapon in the 
 arsenal of debate he had perfected by usage, 
 and every strategy in the art of political 
 warfare he had mastered by experience. He 
 was only 34 years old, brilliant, valiant, rest 
 less, liberal, the idol of the young, the pet of 
 the old. It is probable that the desire to 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 3 11 
 
 become President began to infuse itself into 
 his veins when he entered the senate and 
 took his seat with the great men of the land. 
 We will not do his political sagacity injus 
 tice and say that he did not shape his career 
 as senator so as to avoid the Scylla of slavery 
 and the Charybdis of abolitionism. Nor is 
 it necessary to subscribe to the view com 
 monly held that he abandoned honest con 
 victions and did violence to his conscience 
 when he announced his theory of popular 
 sovereignty and thrust "Bleeding Kansas" 
 into the lurid foreground of secession and 
 rebellion. For, if we trace with care his-^ 
 utterances upon the question of territorial 
 rights and slavery, from the debate on the j 
 Wilmot Proviso, to the day of his death, we I 
 will find a consistent adhesion to the prin 
 ciple of territorial home rule. 
 
 These principles were first foreshadowed } 
 in his speeches opposing the adoption of the^x 
 Wilmot Proviso. He contended that in the 
 organizing of territorial governments the 
 question of slavery should not be broached 
 at all. Slavery was a purely domestic insti 
 tution, and it was no concern of congress 
 whether or not it were allowed in a state or 
 territory. The people of every territory 
 must decide that question for themselves. 
 This was his attitude in the debate on the 
 Wilmot Proviso. He never relinquished 
 this opinion. He did expand it in 1854, he 
 elaborated it, and perfected it into a consist- 
 
312 Five American Politicians 
 
 ent and well-wrought political theory, but 
 he never abandoned it. And the concrete 
 upon which he builded the structure of this 
 theory of state autonomy was the proposi 
 tion that slavery was a purely domestic insti 
 tution. 
 
 Douglas was made chairman of the senate 
 committee on territories. This important 
 position made him the leader in the move 
 ment to organize territorial governments in 
 the domains acquired through the Mexican 
 war. This brings us to the memorable year 
 1850, when California asked admission to 
 the Union, when the north determined that 
 slavery should not infest those virgin lands, 
 and the south threatened disunion if the 
 barriers surrounding the new territories were 
 made impassable to slavery. It was Douglas 
 who prepared the various bills, in his com 
 mittee, that were introduced to meet the 
 demands of both contestants, and it was 
 Douglas who suggested to Clay the fortun 
 ate compromise that bears the name of the 
 great Kentuckian. 
 
 In the original bill, Douglas avoided all 
 reference to slavery. When the anti-slavery 
 senators proposed their various amend 
 ments, he opposed them. The final bill, as 
 is well known, provided for the restriction of 
 slavery. 
 
 Douglas in his speech of June 3rd, clearly 
 set forth his views : " In respect to African 
 slavery, the position that I have ever taken 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 313 
 
 has been, that this and all other questions 
 relating to the domestic affairs and domestic 
 policy of the territories ought to be left to 
 the decision of the people themselves. I 
 would therefore have much preferred that 
 the bill should have remained as it was re 
 ported from the committee on territories, 
 with no provision on the subject of slavery. 
 
 "And, sir, is an institution to be fixed 
 upon a people in opposition to their unani 
 mous opinion? I, for one, think that such 
 ought not to be the case. I desire no provi 
 sion whatever in respect to slavery in the ter 
 ritories . I wish to leave the people of the ter 
 ritories free to enactsuchlaws as they please." 
 
 The legislature of Illinois had instructed 
 him to vote for an explicit prohibition of 
 slavery in all the territories. The Aboli 
 tionists of the state knew the views that he 
 held and believed that his uncompromising 
 nature would rather resign than yield to 
 pressure. But Douglas did not resign. 
 When the roll was called on the amendment 
 prohibiting slavery, he arose and explained 
 to the senate that he was now going to cast 
 the vote of his constituents, not his own vote; 
 that he did so because he knew the amend 
 ment would be lost anyway; that he did not 
 deem the friction between himself and his 
 constituents of a grave enough nature to 
 demand his resignation. So he voted " aye." 
 Thus the politician found a way to placate 
 both his conscience and his constituents. 
 
314 Five American Politicians 
 
 On his return to Chicago, he found the 
 compromise very unpopular and himself the 
 denounced and hated Judas Iscariot, the 
 betrayer, of the free state of Illinois. The 
 Abolitionists had organized to defy the fu 
 gitive slave law. They controlled pulpit 
 and press, they placarded the city, they in 
 duced the city council to pass an ordinance 
 relieving all citizens and officers and the 
 police from the binding force of these laws, on 
 the ground that they were venal and in 
 human. On the evening following this radi 
 cal action of the council, a great mass meet 
 ing was held. It boisterously endorsed the 
 revolutionary action of the city council, and 
 amid deafening cheers resolutions were 
 passed commending violent resistance to the 
 Federal law, and denouncing in bitterest 
 terms the Illinois statesmen who had voted 
 for the compromise. 
 
 Douglas was the only member of the 
 Illinois delegation then in Chicago. He at 
 tended the meeting, and after the passage of 
 the resolutions asked to be heard. Amidst 
 the profoundest silence he announced that 
 on the following evening he would address 
 the citizens of Chicago on the compromise 
 and would answer every objection that had 
 been raised against it. Jeers and hisses were 
 the echo of his challenge. But a tremendous 
 throng gathered the following night to hear 
 his defense. And Douglas was their com 
 plete master. One by one he met the ob- 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 315 
 
 jections raised by the Abolitionists; he an 
 swered the questions asked by his hearers; 
 he defended the theory of state rights and 
 the philosophy of compromise; he pleaded 
 the supremacy of law and the absolute ne 
 cessity of abiding by its mandates. The 
 following extract from his speech is very im 
 portant for our purpose, because it reveals 
 clearly that he believed the compromise was 
 based upon his own principle of home rule. 
 He thus explained his attitude: "These 
 measures are predicated on the great funda 
 mental principle that every people ought to 
 possess the right of forming and regulating 
 their own internal concerns and domestic 
 institutions in their own way. If those who 
 emigrate to the territories have the requisite 
 intelligence and honesty to enact laws for 
 the government of white men I know of no 
 reason why they should not be competent 
 to legislate for the negro. If they are suffi 
 ciently enlightened to make laws for the pro 
 tection of life, liberty and property, of mor 
 als and education, to determine the relation 
 of husband and wife, of parent and child, 
 I am not aware that it requires any higher 
 degree of civilization that regulates the 
 affairs of master and servant. My votes 
 and acts have been in accordance with this 
 view." 
 
 He closed his speech by offering a series 
 of resolutions upholding the federal law and 
 repudiating the action of the city council. 
 
316 Five American Politicians 
 
 The meeting closed with great cheers given 
 for Douglas, for the constitution, and for 
 "our glorious Union." The following night 
 the city council rescinded its action. 
 
 It was a great triumph and a purely per 
 sonal victory. Six months before, Daniel 
 Webster, barred from . Faneuil Hall, was 
 forced to defend his Seventh of March speech 
 in the open air. He did not compel his con 
 stituents to relent. 
 
 So John Randolph in 1813 was threatened 
 by a Virginia mob because he defied his con 
 stituents. He told them: "I understand 
 that I am to be assailed and insulted to-day 
 if I attempt to address the people. I am 
 told that a mob has been gathered for that 
 purpose. Now, my Bible teaches me that 
 the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom, 
 but that the fear of man is the consumma 
 tion of folly." His courage and noble defi 
 ance failed to reelect him. 
 
 And so Edmund Burke defied the wishes 
 of his constituents in Bristol, admonishing 
 them: "I did not obey your instructions. 
 No, I conformed rather to the instructions of 
 Truth and Nature and maintained your in 
 terests against your opinions, with a con 
 stancy that became me." He was retired 
 from office by their wrath. 
 
 But Douglas dispelled the prejudices of 
 his constituents and transformed their an 
 tagonism into hearty support. The threat 
 ened division of his party in Illinois he 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 
 
 averted, and he was triumphantly returned 
 to the senate in 1852. 
 
 The prestige of this triumph augmented 
 the fervor of his following in their desire to 
 nominate him for the Presidency in 1852. 
 The national Democratic convention met at 
 Baltimore in June. Douglas was only thirty- 
 nine years old and the adored leader of the 
 younger element in his party. These youth 
 ful friends, in their eager haste to honor their 
 idol, overstepped the bounds of propriety. 
 They secured control of several influential 
 papers, including the "Democratic Review" 
 a monthly magazine devoted to the interests 
 of the party. In this journal the young hot 
 heads published a series of articles attacking 
 the older party leaders in very undignified 
 and undiplomatic and unwise language. 
 They attempted to show that the "old 
 fogies" had outlived their usefulness and 
 were " in the way." They called themselves 
 "Young- America/ 7 and Cass, Butler, Bu 
 chanan and Marcy they called "hucksters," 
 "old clothes horses/ and other such un 
 called-for names. This was poor prepara 
 tion for an onslaught upon the convention. 
 They found that their hot zeal, while con 
 suming their own reason, had filled all the 
 conservatives with unyielding prejudice. 
 They could make no alliance with either 
 Cass, Marcy, or Buchanan, the other candi 
 dates. It was Douglas against the field. 
 He received twenty votes on the first ballot 
 
318 Five American Politicians 
 
 and ninety-two on the thirtieth. Then his 
 strength declined. Cass received 131 votes. 
 Marcy s highest was 98, and Buchanan s 104. 
 But if the "fogies" were unbending, so also 
 was " Young America." As frequently hap 
 pens in our nominating conventions, a "dark 
 horse" was brought in, and on the forty- 
 ninth ballot Franklin Pierce was nominated 
 by an almost unanimous vote. 
 
 The defeat stung Douglas s pride, and his 
 juvenile following was crestfallen. They 
 realized that their intemperate campaign had 
 defeated their favorite. It is probable that 
 this defeat effectually barred the White 
 House door to the brilliant Douglas, for it 
 put all his rivals on their mettle, and gave 
 them time to plot his overthrow, as we shall 
 see, in 1856. It also had some effect upon 
 his attitude toward the Kansas-Nebraska 
 legislation. 
 
 This legislation forms the pivotal point in 
 Douglas s career. His attitude toward it 
 brought upon him the immediate and re 
 lentless censure of the anti-slavery Whigs, 
 the ultimate disapprobation and alienation 
 of the slavery extensionists, the quick con 
 demnation of his constituency; it brought 
 him neither the electoral vote of the south 
 nor the undivided Democratic vote of the 
 north; it robbed him of the fealty of many 
 friends; and brought him the support of not 
 one enemy. For its unhappy author it has 
 been the unremitting source of censure from 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 319 
 
 historian and biographer,. The phantom of 
 Kansas-Nebraska even to-day pursues the 
 name of the unfortunate politician and 
 makes of popular sovereignty a mockery. 
 
 This destructive tide of censure, this cu 
 mulative condemnation, this relentless criti 
 cism is heaped upon him because his terri 
 torial bill repealed the Missouri compromise 
 of 1820, because it opened the flood gates 
 of anarchy and civil war in Kansas, because 
 it tore asunder a great and glorious political 
 party, and because it hastened the bloody 
 day of reckoning for slavery. It is the be 
 lief of historians, as it was the judgment of 
 his contemporaries, that Douglas framed 
 this measure in contradiction of his avowed 
 principles and for the purpose of placating 
 and gaining the votes of the south; that he 
 sold the birthright of conscience for a mess 
 of political pottage. This is a most serious 
 charge, and it is necessary to trace the steps 
 that led to the perfection of the repeal. 
 
 The key to American politics from 1820 
 to 1860 is the institution of slavery. The 
 reader must constantly bear in mind that 
 with each recurring decade the advocates 
 of slavery became bolder and more insa 
 tiate, and looked forward to new fields for 
 the spread of their system of slave labor. 
 Thus it happened that whenever new terri 
 tory was added to our national domain, the 
 slavery extensionists made frantic efforts to 
 secure the recognition of slavery within its 
 
320 Five American Politicians 
 
 precincts. The first great addition of terri 
 tory to the nation was the Louisiana Pur 
 chase. The admission of Missouri, a state 
 carved out of the purchase, precipitated the 
 memorable struggle that ended in the adop 
 tion of the Missouri compromise of 1820. 
 The second vast addition of territory, we 
 acquired by conquest from Mexico. This 
 was a pro-slavery acquisition, and when the 
 time came to admit California, the first 
 fruits of that conquest, the slavery leaders 
 again fought desperately for the extension 
 of their peculiar institution. The compro 
 mise of 1850 restored peace, and both sides 
 expressed themselves as fairly satisfied. 
 
 These compromises were regarded as 
 final. Yet any one w r ho carefully noted the 
 drift of affairs could discern that they could 
 not be final. For the compromise of 1850 
 was clearly an advance upon that of 1820. 
 But, at the time, no one cared to disturb the 
 pleasant tranquillity of sentiment, and both 
 parties professed the finality of the com 
 promise. Every one wanted the slavery 
 question to be at rest. Douglas joined in 
 this universal chorus of approval. In 1851 
 he said in a speech in the senate: "I wish 
 to state that I have determined never to 
 make another speech upon the slavery 
 question; and I will now add the hope that 
 the necessity for it will never exist. * * 
 So long as our opponents do not agitate for 
 repeal or modification of [the compromises] , 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 321 
 
 why should we agitate for any purpose? We 
 claim that the compromise [of 1850] is a 
 final settlement. Is a final settlement open 
 to discussion and agitation and controversy 
 by its friends?" And in 1849 he declared 
 that the Missouri Compromise had "an 
 origin akin to the constitution/ and that 
 it was " canonized in the hearts of the Amer 
 ican people as a sacred thing, which no ruth 
 less hand would ever be reckless enough to 
 disturb." 
 
 Douglas, like most of his contemporaries, 
 did not realize that slavery was a festering 
 sore, always probed by its nurses and con 
 stantly discharging its loathsome, poison 
 ous gangrene; that it was incurable and 
 must be cut out, completely eradicated, be 
 fore the nation could be rid of slavery- 
 eruptions. (J\ 
 
 The admission of California and the build 
 ing up of the w r est brought the direct occasion 
 for the repeal of the compromise. The en 
 chanted valleys of the Golden State drew 
 toward them constant streams of emigrants. 
 Oregon and Minnesota, both newly organ 
 ized territories, attracted the more prosaic 
 pioneers, the homesteaders; while the mines 
 of New Mexico and Utah, also newly formed 
 territories, lured the more romantic seeker 
 after fortune. Between these far-distant 
 regions and the Louisiana Purchase lay a 
 vast strip of territory set aside as the final 
 rendezvous of the Red Man. Into these res- 
 
 * .* 21 
 
322 Five American Politicians 
 
 ervations broke the ever increasing flood of 
 immigration. Through the realm of the In 
 dian led the well-worn routes of travel. It 
 was evident that to the enormous increase 
 in the number of western immigrants, the 
 government must provide protection. No 
 one knew this better than Douglas; there 
 was no more ardent lover of the boundless 
 west in congress than the chairman of the 
 Committee on Territories, and upon him de 
 volved the task of solving the problem. 
 The simplest solution was the organizing of 
 a territorial government that would em 
 brace the lands lying between Missouri and 
 Utah and New Mexico. What should be 
 the status of slavery in this new territory? 
 The compromise of 1820 drew the free line 
 westward from Missouri on the parallel of 
 36 30 . Would Douglas recognize this line 
 in his territorial bill? 
 
 The first Nebraska bill was introduced 
 into the house on February 2, 1853, by 
 Richardson, of Illinois, chairman of the ter 
 ritorial committee, and an intimate friend 
 and political adviser of Douglas. The new 
 territory was bounded on the east by the 
 Missouri River, on the west by the Rocky 
 Mountains, on the south by 36 30 , or the 
 Southern Missouri line, and on the north 
 by 43, or nearly the present northern line 
 of Iowa. There was not much interest 
 taken in the bill. Some doubt was ex 
 pressed as to its utility, because only five or 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 323 
 
 six hundred people lived in the vast domain ; 
 the answer was that it was meant to protect 
 "our commerce, and the fifty or sixty thou 
 sand emigrants who annually cross the 
 plains." Objection was also made that 
 much of the land was Indian reservation, 
 and the titles had not been quieted; the 
 answer was the territory had been made 
 so all-embracing, that it might include all 
 the routes of travel between the coast and 
 the Mississippi. Of slavery, there was little 
 said. One congressman asked Giddings, of 
 Ohio, a member of the Territorial Committee, 
 why the ordinance of 1787 was not incor 
 porated in the bill. The answer was signifi 
 cant. Giddings was, at that time, the most 
 famous and advanced anti-slavery member 
 of the house. He answered that inasmuch 
 as the southern boundary was 36 30 , the 
 territory was included in the compromise of 
 1820. This compromise "stands perpetu 
 ally," he said, "and I do not think that this 
 act would receive any increased validity by 
 a re-enactment. There I leave the matter. 
 It is very clear that the territory included 
 in this treaty [the Louisiana Purchase 
 treaty] must be forever free unless the law 
 be repealed." There was little more said 
 about slavery, and on the 10th of February 
 the bill passed. 
 
 In the senate Douglas s committee re 
 ported it back without amendment. It did 
 not come up for discussion until the last 
 
324 Five American Politicians 
 
 night of the session. Douglas was its only 
 champion. Here, as in the house, the ques 
 tion of Indian titles and of the paucity of 
 settlers were the powerful objections, 
 while a general apathy made it apparent 
 that the members cared nothing for the bill. 
 But here, again, significant mention was 
 made of the status of slavery in the territory, 
 this time by a virulent pro-slavery cham 
 pion, Senator Atchison, of Missouri, the 
 same Atchison who became the instigator 
 of the border ruffians a few years later, and 
 after whom the leading slavery stronghold 
 in Kansas was named. He spoke in favor 
 of the bill. He had originally opposed the 
 measure, he said, for two reasons : One was 
 the cloud upon the title. " Another was, 
 the Missouri compromise, or, as it is com 
 monly called, the slavery restriction. It 
 was my opinion at that time and I am not 
 now very clear on that subject that the 
 law of congress, when the state of Missouri 
 was admitted to the union, excluding slav 
 ery from the territory of Louisiana, north of 
 36 30 , would be enforced in that territory 
 unless it was specially rescinded; and, 
 whether that law was in accordance with the 
 constitution of the United States or not, it 
 w r ould do its work, and that work would be 
 to preclude slaveholders from going into that 
 territory. But when I came to look into 
 that question, I found that there was no 
 prospect, no hope of a repeal of the Missouri 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 325 
 
 compromise excluding slavery from that 
 territory. * * * I have always been 
 of the opinion that the first great error com 
 mitted in the political history of this coun 
 try was the ordinance of 1787, rendering the 
 Northwest Territory free territory. The 
 next great error was the Missouri compro 
 mise. But they are both irremediable. 
 We must submit to them. I am pre 
 pared to do it. It is evident that the 
 Missouri compromise cannot be repealed. 
 So far as that question is concerned we 
 might as well agree to the admission of this 
 territory now as next year, or five or ten 
 years hence." After this interesting deliv 
 ery Douglas made his final plea, remaining 
 silent on the slavery question. The bill 
 was tabled on the last night of the session. 
 Both in the house and the senate the south 
 was against the bill. 
 
 Early in the next session, Senator Dodge of 
 Iowa introduced a similar bill and this was 
 referred to Douglas s committee. In the 
 secret chamber of the Territorial Committee, 
 the south now proposed its advance step, 
 the creation of the new territory with the 
 repeal of the Missouri compromise. We 
 have no conception to-day what that meant. 
 If some one to-day should propose the re 
 peal of the federal constitution, it would 
 be received with no more surprise and 
 alarm, than was the bold proposal of the 
 south to repeal the compromise. The se- 
 
326 Five American Politicians ( 
 
 cret transactions of the committee have not 
 been preserved for us. We can only con 
 clude from desultory statements and the 
 events that soon after transpired, what 
 course the contentions in the committee 
 took. It appears that the southern Demo 
 crats insisted that the constitution gave 
 them the right to take their property into 
 the territories. The northern Democrats, 
 especially Douglas, believed slavery to be 
 a local institution, subject to local law, and 
 that a territory had the same power as a 
 state to prohibit it. An agreement was 
 reached whereby both parties consented to 
 let the supreme court decide the extent of 
 congressional control over slavery in the 
 territories, and both sides promised to 
 abide by such decision. 
 
 This was the status of affairs when, on 
 January 4, 1854, Douglas brought in his bill 
 for organizing Nebraska Territory. There 
 was no mention made of slavery in the pro 
 visions relating to the territory, but a clause 
 was added which provided that: "When 
 admitted as a state the said territory or any 
 portion of the same shall be received into 
 the Union, with or without slavery, as its 
 constitution may prescribe at the time of 
 its admission." This was simple enough, 
 and seemingly in accord with the compro 
 mises of 1820 and 1850. 
 
 But the bill was accompanied by a report 
 in which Douglas explained his views of the 
 
] Stephen A. Douglas 327 
 
 compromise of 1850. The report is more 
 valuable for our purpose than the bill. The 
 principles of 1850 he affirmed were "that 
 all questions pertaining to slavery in the 
 territories and in the new states to be 
 formed therefrom, are to be left to the de 
 cision of the people residing therein, by 
 their appropriate representatives to be 
 chosen by them for that purpose; that all 
 cases involving title to slaves and questions 
 of personal freedom are to be referred to the 
 adjudication of the local tribunals, with the 
 right of appeal to the supreme court of the 
 United States; that the provisions of the 
 constitution of the United States in respect 
 to fugitives from service are to be carried 
 into faithful execution in all the organized 
 territories the same as in the states." 
 
 In 1850 he told his constituents in the 
 Chicago speech quoted above, that the com 
 promise of 1850 was based upon the great 
 principle that each territory shall decide for 
 itself the question of slavery. The exposi 
 tion he now made to the senate was virtually 
 the same. Both amounted, in spirit, to a re 
 peal of the compromise of 1820. But he would 
 not, as yet, admit this to be true. For when, 
 on the 16th of January, Senator Dixon, of 
 -Kentucky , proposed an amendment expressly 
 repealing that portion of the act of 1820 which 
 prohibited slavery in the territories, Douglas 
 was greatly discomfited. We will let Pixon s 
 own words relate what took place. 
 
328 Five American Politicians 
 
 " My amendment seemed to take the sen 
 ate by surprise, and no one appeared more 
 startled than Judge Douglas himself. He 
 immediately came to my seat and courteous 
 ly remonstrated against my amendment 
 suggesting that the bill which he had intro 
 duced was almost in the words of the terri 
 torial acts for the organization of Utah and 
 New Mexico; that they being part of the 
 compromise measures of 1850 he had hoped 
 that I, a known and zealous friend of the 
 wise and patriotic adjustment which had 
 then taken place, would not be inclined to 
 do anything to call that adjustment in ques 
 tion, or weaken it before the country. I re 
 plied that it was precisely because I had 
 been and was a firm and zealous friend of 
 the compromise of 1850 that I felt bound to 
 persist in the movement which I had origi 
 nated; that I was well satisfied that the Mis 
 souri restriction, if not expressly repealed, 
 would continue to operate in the territory 
 totwhich it had been applied, thus negotiat 
 ing the great and salutary principle of non 
 intervention, which constituted the most prom 
 inent and essential feature of the plan of settle 
 ment of 1850. We talked for some time am 
 icably and then separated. Some days af 
 terwards Judge Douglas came to my lodg 
 ings whilst I was confined by physical indis 
 position, and urged me to get up and take a 
 ride with him in his carriage. I accepted 
 his invitation, and rode out with him. Dur- 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 329 
 
 ing our short excursion we talked on the 
 subject of my proposed amendment. Judge 
 Douglas, to my high gratification, proposed 
 to me that I should allow him to take 
 charge of the amendment and ingraft it on 
 his territorial bill. I acceded to the propo 
 sition at once, whereupon a most interesting 
 interchange occurred between us. 
 
 "On this occasion Judge Douglas spoke 
 to me in substance thus: I have become 
 perfectly satisfied that it is my duty as a 
 fair-minded national statesman to cooperate 
 with you as proposed, in securing the re 
 peal of the Missouri compromise restric 
 tion. It is due to the south, it is due to 
 the constitution, heretofore palpably in 
 fracted; it is due to the character for con 
 sistency which I have heretofore labored to 
 maintain. The repeal, if we can effect it, 
 will produce much stir and commotion in 
 the free states of the Union for a season. I 
 shall be assailed by demagogues and fanatics 
 there without stint or moderation. Every 
 opprobrious epithet will be applied to me. 
 I shall probably be hung in effigy in many 
 places. It is more than probable that I 
 shall become permanently odious among 
 those whose friendship and esteem I have 
 heretofore possessed. This proceeding may 
 end my political career, but, acting under 
 the sense of duty which animates me, I am 
 prepared to make the sacrifice, I will do it. 
 He spoke in the most earnest and touching 
 
33 Five American Politicians 
 
 manner and I confess that I was deeply af 
 fected. I said to him in reply : Sir, I once 
 recognized you as a demagogue, a mere 
 party manager, selfish and intriguing. I 
 now find you a warm-hearted and sterling 
 patriot. Go forward in the pathway of 
 duty as you propose, and though all the 
 world desert you, I never will/ 
 
 Senator Atchison was at this time presi 
 dent pro tempore of the senate. Since he 
 made the remarks quoted above on the first 
 Nebraska bill he had evidently become con 
 vinced that the compromise could be re 
 pealed. In his public speeches he pledged 
 himself not to vote for any territorial bill 
 that did not annul or repeal it. He desired 
 to introduce such a bill, and was anxious to 
 become chairman of the Committee on Terri 
 tories. He told Douglas that he would re 
 sign the presidency of the senate if Douglas 
 would resign chairmanship of the committee. 
 Thus the way would open for Atchison to 
 champion the repeal. Douglas asked for 
 twenty-four hours to consider the matter, 
 and at the expiration of that time told 
 Atchison he was willing to introduce the 
 bill himself. 
 
 This he did, on the 23rd day of January. 
 The new bill contained the novel doctrine 
 that the principles of the act of 1850 made in 
 operative the prohibition of slavery north of 
 36 30 contained in the Missouri compro 
 mise of 1820. Out of the half million 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 331 
 
 square miles of territory thus virtually 
 opened to slavery Douglas carved two vast 
 territories. The northern he called Nebras 
 ka, and the southern Kansas. The spirit 
 of the measure was non-intervention, the fa 
 vorite theme of Douglas s oratory, but the 
 heart of the Kansas-Nebraska bill was the 
 repeal of the Missouri compromise. 
 
 From this recital of the facts, it is evident 
 that Douglas himself believed that somehow 
 in a vague and mystic manner the principle 
 of non-intervention was source of the act 
 of 1850. Indeed, he had maintained this in 
 all of his public utterances. He therefore 
 was easily led to the conclusion, by gradual 
 steps, guided by the southern leaders, that 
 non-intervention was inconsistent with pro 
 hibition, and that therefore the act of 1850 
 repealed or was inconsistent with the act of 
 1820. This sort of superficial logic was the 
 method Douglas used in his debate. It was 
 the only logic of which he was capable. Let 
 the reader never forget that Douglas was 
 unqualifiedly and conscientiously and con 
 stantly the champion of non-intervention, 
 and then it will not be necessary to find in 
 his ambition to become President, his sole 
 motive for introducing his Kansas-Nebraska 
 bill. 
 
 That Douglas himself foresaw the tragic 
 consequences that his attitude would bring 
 upon the country it is impossible to believe. 
 That his desire to become President im- 
 
33 2 Five American Politicians 
 
 pelled him to listen more willingly to the 
 luring words of the southern tempters, to 
 institute this campaign for neutral terri 
 tory, undoubtedly is true. That is a weak 
 ness common to all mankind. But that he 
 willingly plunged the nation into the boiling 
 cauldron of civil strife, that he might take 
 political advantage of the situation, is un 
 thinkable in the light of his subsequent acts 
 of patriotism and bravery. 
 
 To do him justice, let us not forget that 
 he had for years been a virile advocate of 
 territorial home rule. To him, this was 
 pure democracy: that each county, each 
 state, each territory be allowed to control 
 its own domestic affairs, and as long as he 
 believed slavery to be a domestic institu 
 tion, the logic of his position was not unten 
 able. The ultimate form of state rights is 
 local autonomy in domestic affairs. To 
 day we can see that " Bloody Kansas " was 
 the necessary prelude to the civil war. It is 
 easy for us to discover the truth, that slav 
 ery, aggressive, defiant, morose, imperious, 
 would be unbending, uncompromising even 
 unto death ; that its very attitude of treason 
 able defiance made war inevitable. Let us 
 not lay at the door of Douglas s ambition 
 the sins of rapine and murder, of arson and 
 burglary committed on the rolling prairies 
 of Kansas during the deadly struggle for 
 freedom under the guise of state autonomy, 
 
 Thus was the slavery question reopened; 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 333 
 
 the "finality" of Clay s compromise proven 
 a fatuity, and the state rights theory carried 
 to its limit. The epilogue of forty years of 
 slavery debate, became the prologue of war. 
 The challenge sent forth by Douglas was 
 accepted eagerly by the anti-slavery Whigs. 
 In an address signed by DeWitt, Smith, 
 Wade, Sumner, and Chase, the measure was 
 fiercely attacked. In scathing words the 
 bill was characterized as "a gross violation 
 of a sacred pledge, as a criminal betrayal of 
 precious rights, as a part and parcel of an 
 atrocious plot to exclude from a vast, un 
 occupied region immigrants from the old 
 world and free laborers from our own states, 
 and convert it into a dreary region of des 
 potism inhabited by masters and slaves." 
 These words aroused all the people. In the 
 north they were received by the Abolition 
 ists as the utterances of God-ordained 
 prophets, and became the nucleus of the 
 first platform of the new Republican party; 
 in the south they were condemned as in 
 flammatory, diabolical and utterly inim 
 ical to the American system of self-govern 
 ment; in congress they called forth a ner 
 vous and terrific assault from Douglas and 
 his cohorts, and taunting replies from Chase 
 and Wade. It was evident from the outset 
 that the northern Democrats could not coal 
 esce with the northern Whigs, but that the 
 southern Whigs would almost unanimously 
 join the southern Democrats in defense of 
 
334 Five American Politicians 
 
 this bill. Sectional feeling was earlier de 
 veloped in the south, and was much stronger 
 than in the north. 
 
 Closely following his manifesto Chase pre 
 sented an amendment striking out of the 
 bill the words alluding to the effect of the 
 compromise of 1850 upon the act of 1820, 
 making the Douglas measure simply a re 
 peal of the slavery clause of 1820, as it ap 
 plied to the specific territories organized by 
 that bill. This focused the discussion. It 
 was not difficult for Chase to show the ab 
 surdity of Douglas s jurisprudence; that an 
 act of congress referring specifically to Utah 
 and New Mexico, passed in 1850, repealed a 
 prior act, passed three decades earlier, and 
 applying specifically to that part of the ter 
 ritory of Louisiana lying north of 36 30 . 
 
 But the cry of popular sovereignty was 
 stronger than the logic of Chase, or the with 
 ering denunciations of Wade, who charac 
 terized the bill as a subterfuge and conspir 
 acy between an ambitious presidential can 
 didate and slavery. There were many men 
 in the north who earnestly believed that 
 Douglas had found the final solution of the 
 perplexing, perennial problem of slavery. 
 Chase s amendment was lost by a more than 
 two- thirds vote. 
 
 Douglas, stung by the taunts of Chase, 
 and nervous over the attacks of Cass, a 
 northern Democrat and able jurist, now 
 changed his bill. For the words, "which 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 335 
 
 was superseded by the principles of the legis 
 lation of 1850, commonly called the com 
 promise measure, and is hereby declared in 
 operative," he substituted, " which, being 
 inconsistent with the principles of non-in 
 tervention by congress with slavery in the 
 states and territories, as recognized by the 
 legislation of 1850, commonly called the 
 compromise measures, is hereby declared 
 inoperative and void, it being the true in 
 tent and meaning of this act not to legislate 
 slavery into any territory or state, nor ex 
 clude it therefrom, but to leave the people 
 thereof perfectly free to form and regulate 
 the domestic institutions in their own way, 
 subject only to the constitution of the Unit 
 ed States." 
 
 Thus the debate had evolved this formal and 
 final form of popular sovereignty. It was a 
 far step that Douglas had taken in the short 
 weeks intervening the introduction of the 
 first Nebraska bill and this ultimate amend 
 ment. The veil was ripped from the face 
 of the first measure and here were the words 
 plainly visible, that the compromise of 1820 
 was repealed by that of 1850, and that the 
 people of every state and territory were to 
 be left "perfectly free to form and regulate 
 their domestic institutions in their own way." 
 The amendment was adopted by a majority 
 of over three-fourths, but before the ballot 
 ing, three of the committee colleagues of 
 Douglas deserted him. Everett opposed 
 
336 Five American Politicians 
 
 the bill because he believed popular sover 
 eignty in the territories to be a fatuity, for 
 the constitution imposes upon congress the 
 duty to legislate for the territories. Hous 
 ton, of Texas, opposed it because he did not 
 wish to re-open the slavery question by de 
 molishing the great compromise. And Bell, 
 of Tennessee, one of the ablest men in the 
 senate, could not subscribe to the miserable 
 logic which maintained that the two com 
 promises were inconsistent with each other. 
 Bell, however, voted for the amendment, 
 believing that Douglas should be allowed 
 the courtesy of perfecting his own bill. 
 
 Chase pursued Douglas unrelentingly. 
 The last amendment of Douglas concluded 
 with the words, "subject only to the consti 
 tution of the United States." Chase now 
 moved to add, " under which the people of 
 the territory, through their appropriate rep 
 resentatives may, if they see fit, probihit 
 the existence of slavery therein/ This was 
 truly in accord wifti the doctrine of home 
 rule, but it presented only one side. That it 
 might be complete, Senator Platt moved to 
 include the right to introduce slavery as well 
 as prohibit it. Chase refused to incorporate 
 this in his amendment. Pratt s motion was 
 withdrawn because it was unparliamentary, 
 it being an amendment to an amendment 
 to Douglas s amendment. Chase s one 
 sided proposition was then promptly voted 
 down. 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 337 
 
 He, however, at once attacked the bill 
 from another side. Were territories to 
 be allowed home rule only on the question 
 of slavery? This would be, manifestly, not 
 home rule at all. Let all the bars down, 
 if true popular rule is to be the lot of each 
 territory, and obliterate every vestige of 
 congressional control over territories. This 
 was the taunting plea of Chase, as he intro 
 duced his amendment to take from congress 
 its veto power over territorial legislation, 
 and mollify the veto power of the territorial 
 governor by allowing the legislature to over 
 ride his veto by a two-thirds vote. The de 
 feat of this amendment brought forth still 
 another. If " squatters " in Kansas and Ne 
 braska were " sovereigns/ 7 why should they 
 not elect their own governors and judges 
 and secretaries, instead of allowing the 
 President of the nation to appoint them? 
 This motion was also lost, amid the jeers of 
 Chase s followers that stirred the temper of 
 the Democrats. Finally Chase moved that 
 only one territory be created out of the do 
 main. He read aright the object of forming 
 two territories. One was to be devoted to 
 slavery, the other to freedom. One was a 
 gift to the south, the other a sop to the north. 
 His motion, of course, met defeat. 
 
 The bill was now reported from the com 
 mittee of the whole and March third set as the 
 day for the final vote. On that day, Bell, 
 of Tennessee, made his final and ablest argu- 
 
 22 
 
33$ Five American Politicians 
 
 ment against the bill. He combatted the 
 notion that poular sovereignty could be es 
 tablished by act of congress ; he demonstrat 
 ed to the south that no lasting benefits could 
 come to her by its passage ; he deplored the 
 immediate and far-reaching sentiment 
 against slavery that would surely follow. 
 His logic created neither enthusiasm nor 
 conviction. 
 
 Douglas closed the debate in a character 
 istic speech. Adroitly he avoided the real 
 issue, and fastened the fallacy upon his audi 
 tors, that his committee had to choose be 
 tween the " principle" of the compromise of 
 1820, the principle of exclusion, and the 
 " principle" of 1850, the principle of home 
 rule ; vigorously he maintained that these two 
 great acts were in essence opposed to one 
 another and that the act of 1850 revoked 
 the act of 1820; valiantly he opposed the 
 contentions of Chase and Sumner and Wade 
 and Seward that the compromise of 1820 
 was a solemn compact, the repository of a 
 lasting obligation between the north and the 
 south to which the north had been faithful 
 to the letter, and from which the south was 
 now trying to slip aw^ay; craftily he played 
 the magician in his legerdemain attempt to 
 show that Missouri did not come into the 
 Union under the act of 1820; sarcastically 
 he hurled vindictive personalities into the 
 face of Chase and Sumner, Wade and Se 
 ward; defiantly he dared the north to refuse 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 339 
 
 the passage of his measure; pompously he 
 boasted that every American territory is 
 wholly capable of self-government, that the 
 grievance of the thirteen colonies was the 
 denial of this right by Great Britain, and that 
 anyone who dared contradict that fact on the 
 senate floor was not loyal to American senti 
 ment; peevishly he denied that his ambi 
 tion for the presidency had prompted him 
 to the creation of his bill; exultingly he 
 showered forth the pacifying effects of the 
 principle of home rule by removing forever 
 the agitation over slavery; patriotically he 
 pleaded the permanence of the Union, as de 
 pendent upon the permanence of the adjust 
 ment of the differences between the north and 
 the south, and the lasting elimination of 
 sectional feeling. 
 
 It was essentially a southern speech. The 
 north was taunted because it opposed the 
 admission of all territories with slavery; the 
 Abolitionists and Free Soilers were de 
 nounced as enemies of tranquillity and com 
 promise. In a running battle with Chase and 
 his colleagues, who continually fired their 
 well aimed questions at him, he shot the 
 grape and canister of sarcasm and ridicule 
 into the fortresses of their arguments and 
 the fastnesses of their convictions. But 
 while he thus swung skilfully the lariat of 
 popular sovereignty, to capture the votes of 
 the south, he quite as masterfully called 
 forth the aid of the northern Democrats by 
 
340 Five American Politicians 
 
 utterly avoiding any defense of slavery. 
 Here was the master politician playing both 
 sides at once, by tactfully aiding the one 
 and by not offending the other. And all 
 under the guise of patriotism, the starry can 
 opy that has covered such a multitude of 
 fallacies and demagogeries. 
 
 "It is apparent/ he says, after quoting 
 from the instructions of the various colonies 
 to their delegates in the Continental congress, 
 "that the Declaration of Independence had 
 its origin in the violation of that great funda 
 mental principle which secured to the people 
 of the colonies the right to regulate their 
 own domestic affairs, in their own way; and 
 that the revolution resulted in the triumph 
 of that principle, and the recognition of the 
 rights asserted by it. Abolitionism pro 
 poses to destroy the right and extinguish 
 the principle for which our forefathers waged 
 a seven years bloody war, and upon which 
 our whole system of free government is 
 founded. They not only deny the applica 
 tion of these principles to the territories, but 
 insist upon fastening the prohibition upon all 
 those states to be formed out of these terri 
 tories." 
 
 His was the boast of the westerner when 
 he said: "You cannot fix bounds to the 
 onward march of this great and growing 
 country. You cannot fetter the limbs of 
 the young giant. He will burst all your 
 chains. He will expand and grow and in- 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 341 
 
 crease and extend civilization, Christianity 
 and liberal principles. Then, sir, if you 
 cannot check the growth of the country in 
 that direction, is it not the part of wisdom 
 to look the days in the face and provide for 
 an event which you cannot avoid? I tell 
 you, sir, you must provide for continuous 
 lines of settlement from the Mississippi Val 
 ley to the Pacific Ocean. And in making 
 this provision, you must decide upon what 
 principles the territories shall be organized; 
 in ojbher words, whether the people shall be 
 allowed to regulate their domestic institu 
 tions in their own way, according to the pro 
 visions of this bill, or whether the opposite 
 doctrine of congressional interference is to 
 prevail. Postpone it, if you will; but when 
 ever you do act, this question must be met 
 and decided/ How subtle the insinuation 
 that the patriot could decide it according 
 to the Declaration of Independence! 
 
 But we must attribute the profoundest 
 sincerity to Douglas in his peroration : " Af 
 fection for the Union can never be alienated 
 or diminished by any other party issues than 
 those which are gained upon sectional or 
 geographical lines. When the people of the 
 north shall all be rallied under one banner, 
 and the whole south marshalled under an 
 other banner, and each section excited to 
 frenzy and madness by hostility to the in 
 stitutions of the other, then the patriot may 
 well tremble for the perpetuity of the Union. 
 
342 Five American Politicians 
 
 Withdraw the slavery question from the po 
 litical arena and remove it to the states and 
 territories, each to decide for itself, such a 
 catastrophy can never happen. Then you 
 will never be able to tell, by any senator s 
 vote for or against any measure, from what 
 state or section of the Union he comes. 
 
 "Why, then, can we not withdraw this 
 vexed question from politics? Why can we 
 not adopt the principle of this bill as a rule 
 of action in all new territorial organizations? 
 Why can we not deprive these agitators of 
 their vocation and render it impossible for 
 senators to come here upon bargains on the 
 slavery question? I believe that the peace 
 and harmony and the perpetuity of the 
 Union requires us to go back to the doctrine 
 of the Revolution, to the principles of the 
 constitution, the Compromise of 1850, and 
 leave the people, under the constitution, to 
 do as they may see proper in respect to their 
 own internal affairs. 
 
 "Mr. President, I have not brought this 
 question forward as a northern man or as a 
 southern man. I am unwilling to recognize 
 such divisions and distinctions. I have 
 brought it forward as an American senator, 
 representing a state which is true to this 
 principle, and which has approved of my 
 action in respect to the Nebraska Bill. I have 
 brought it forward not as an act of justice 
 to the south more than to the north ; I have 
 presented it especially as an act of justice to 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 343 
 
 the people of those territories a ad of the 
 states to be formed therefrom now and in 
 all time to come. I have nothing to say 
 about northern rights or southern rights. 
 I know of no such divisions or distinctions 
 under the constitution. The bill does equal 
 and exact justice to the whole Union , and 
 every part of it; it violates the right of no 
 state or territory, but places each on a per 
 fect equality and leaves the people thereof 
 to the free enjoyment of all their rights under 
 the constitution. 
 
 "Now, sir, I wish to say to our southern 
 friends that if they desire to see this great 
 principle carried out, now is their time to 
 rally around it, to cherish it, preserve it, 
 make it the rule of action of all future time. 
 If they fail to do it now and thereby allow 
 the doctrine of interference to prevail, upon 
 their heads the consequence of that inter 
 ference must rest. To our northern friends 
 on the other hand I desire to say, that from 
 this day henceforward they must rebuke the 
 slander which has been uttered against the 
 south that they desire to legislate slavery 
 into the territories. * * We are willing 
 to stand upon this great principle of self- 
 government everywhere; and it is to us a 
 proud reflection that, in this whole discus 
 sion, no friend of the bill has urged an argu 
 ment in its favor which could not be used 
 in a free state as well as in a slave state and 
 vice versa. But no enemy of the bill has 
 
344 Five American Politicians 
 
 used an argument which would bear repeti 
 tion one mile across Mason and Dixon s line. 
 Our opponents have dealt entirely in sec 
 tional appeal. The friends of the bill have 
 discussed a great principle of universal ap 
 plication, which can be sustained by the 
 same reasons, and the same arguments, in 
 every time and in every corner of the 
 Union." 
 
 It was nearly five o clock on the morning 
 of March 4, 1854, when Douglas concluded 
 these words of sophistry and prophecy. All 
 night long the debate had surged wild and 
 fierce. For seventeen hours, without pause, 
 the Little Giant defied the united powers 
 of the opposition. His energy, his daring, 
 his demagogism, his earnestness prevailed. 
 Thirty-seven votes were cast for his bill, 
 fourteen against it. By the end of May it 
 had passed the house and received the Presi 
 dent s signature. 
 
 How true it proved that patriots trembled 
 " for the perpetuity of the Union " when the 
 issues were finally "joined upon sectional 
 or geographical lines." How strange that 
 Douglas should fail to see that he was has 
 tening his country to the very consumma 
 tion of this woeful condition; that slavery 
 was the very issue destined by nature to 
 thus sever the Union. Instead of a harmless 
 local question, to be settled by the people 
 of the various states, it was a virulent na 
 tional issue, to be settled by all the people 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 345 
 
 of all the states. Douglas tried to tether 
 a raving bull with a cord of tissue paper. 
 
 Such northern sentiment as had arisen in 
 favor of the Nebraska Bill, rapidly receded 
 after its passage. The people of the north 
 believed that somehow they had been cheat 
 ed, that the south had played them a sharp 
 trick. The great Compromises they held 
 to be more binding than ordinary legislation, 
 because they established a working principle, 
 which should determine the admission of 
 new states that came from the west, seeking 
 entrance to the Union. This plighted troth 
 now was broken. The sacred line of thirty- 
 six degrees, thirty minutes w^as wiped out. 
 The north believed that it had been willfully 
 and maliciously injured. This belief may 
 have been founded upon fancy quite as much 
 as upon reason, but it prevailed throughout 
 the free states. Nor did the slave states do 
 anything to disabuse the minds of their nor 
 thern neighbors. 
 
 Douglas was to discover the bitterness of 
 this resentment upon his return to Chicago. 
 He found the city in a tumult of abolition 
 excitement, himself the hated object of popu- 
 ular arraignment lampooned and hung in 
 effigy; and his popular sovereignty measure 
 the subject of universal opprobium. On 
 the day of his homecoming flags were float 
 ing at half mast, bells were tolling a doleful 
 dirge, and his portraits were displayed in the 
 shop windows framed in black crepe. But 
 
346 Five American Politicians 
 
 Douglas was not a man to wince. His bra 
 very outlived mobs and his courage outran 
 fleet-footed malice. He challenged the city. 
 He announced that he would speak in North 
 Market hall the following Saturday night. 
 There he would explain the principles of 
 home rule, and declare the causes for his 
 action. Ten thousand people responded to 
 this announcement. The hall could not con 
 tain them, so Douglas spoke from a balcony. 
 It was an infuriated throng that had not 
 come to attend reason but to do violence to 
 fair play. They greeted their senator with 
 jeers and hisses; they answered his sentences 
 with hoots and cat calls. Calmly Douglas 
 faced their fury. He tried every device 
 known to the accomplished debater; story, 
 jest and gibe, sarcasm, ridicule, and exhor 
 tation. But all in vain. They would not 
 hear him. He could not conquer the mob, 
 and unfortunately he allowed the mob to 
 capture his temper, and toward midnight he 
 pulled out his watch and shouted: "It is 
 now Sunday morning. I will bid you good 
 bye. I am going to church and you can go 
 to hell." 
 
 The scene of the struggle for nationalism 
 now shifts from Washington to Kansas, from 
 the halls of congress to the rolling plains of 
 the far west. Upon those virgin prairies 
 are to be fought the skirmishes that will be 
 come a Lexington and a Concord for a new 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 347 
 
 era of freedom. There will meet the deter 
 mined advance guard of slavery, and the 
 resolute pioneers of freedom. The clash of 
 their arms will resound throughout the 
 world, and their sacrifices will make sacred 
 in our history the name of " Bloody Kansas." 
 Let the story of this struggle for Kansas re 
 veal how vain was Douglas s contention that 
 slavery is a mere local institution, and the 
 futility of his remedy for slavery agitation 
 in home rule. For when popular sovereign 
 ty became "squatter sovereignty," when 
 theory became reality, then it was proclaimed 
 to all mankind that slavery was a national 
 institution, a universal woe, not to be wiped 
 out by state statutes or municipal ordinances, 
 but only by the united effort of the entire 
 Union, and alas, by the blood of man. 
 
 When it was learned that the fate of the 
 new territories depended upon the votes of 
 those who should emigrate thither, both 
 north and south prepared to control the ter 
 ritorial electorate. The south had the ad 
 vantage of contiguity. Missouri was a slave 
 state. It was also a border state. Its west 
 ern counties were inhabited by that class of 
 wild, desperate, brutal, lawless, vulgar 
 characters that form the usual frontier be 
 tween civilization and savagery; men who 
 are refugees from justice, or who have sought 
 the unconventional life of the border to give 
 free play to their passions, or who have been 
 driven to desperate deeds by hard fate, and 
 
Five American Politicians 
 
 have fled to the land where all history is 
 wiped out and men live for the present alone. 
 While these men had no special reason to 
 espouse the cause of slavery they were ready 
 to adventure in its behalf, and the slave 
 holder of Missouri had only to shape this 
 coarse material to his wishes. The south 
 believed that fair play demanded Nebraska 
 for the north, Kansas for the south, and 
 that any attempt to control the destinies of 
 Kansas showed bad faith on the part of the 
 north. Thus material interests were linked 
 with the convictions of justice in the manip 
 ulation of the "border ruffians." In every 
 western county was organized a " Self-de 
 fensive Association," and by September, 
 1854, a horde of over ten thousand brutal, 
 reckless adventurers were prepared to hurl 
 themselves over the border into Kansas, to 
 fight for the perpetuation of slavery. 
 
 The north was ready to meet this on 
 slaught. Eli Thayer, a patriotic and able 
 business man of Worcester, Massachusetts, 
 had perfected a plan for the organization of 
 an emigrant aid society. It was his purpose to 
 back this society with an enormous capital, 
 to put it upon a firm business basis, to gain 
 the control of vast tracts of land in the ter 
 ritories, to found churches, to build schools, 
 mills, stores and taverns, and to invite sober 
 and industrious homeseekers to take ad 
 vantage of these preparations and make 
 Kansas their home. These immigrants he 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 349 
 
 proposed to organize into companies, to 
 guide them to their destination, and aid 
 them in every possible way to settle down 
 to their chosen pursuits. He endeavored to 
 reduce the hardships of migration and settle 
 ment in a new country. His company was 
 not organized until 1855, but in 1854, with 
 the cooperation of several other gentlemen, 
 he sent out a party of thirty immigrants, 
 who founded the city of Lawrence. This 
 little company had been preceded by Dr. 
 Charles Robinson, who was sent by Thay- 
 er and his colleagues to reconnoiter. Dr. 
 Robinson became a leading figure in the or 
 ganizing of the free state. He had been a 
 "forty-niner" in California, had helped or 
 ganize the vigilance committees, and had 
 been active in preparing California for the 
 Union. This valuable experience he sup 
 plemented with courage, adaptability, sound 
 sense and keen judgment. 
 
 The south pictured the emigrant aid so 
 ciety as a hideous monster, conceived in the 
 desire to deprive the slave states of their 
 lawful rights. The southern press described 
 its leaders as enemies of the Union, its ranks 
 were filled, they declared, with the outcasts 
 of jails and slums. The southern people 
 believed that they were armed with guns 
 and sabres and proposed entering Kan 
 sas like an invading army. The national 
 government also looked upon Thayer s 
 scheme with displeasure. The President 
 
35 Five American Politicians 
 
 maintained that every one should be free to 
 go as he chose; that individual autonomy 
 must precede state autonomy. Organized 
 immigration from the north, then, was con 
 sidered hostile to the principle of home rule. 
 Thus did prejudice precede the immigrant 
 bands and make their journey doubly diffi 
 cult. They were misunderstood from the 
 beginning. For there were no abolitionists 
 among their leaders, and scarcely any in 
 their ranks. Thayer, and Robinson, and 
 Lawrence, and their associates were northern 
 Whigs and Freesoilers. They wished to in 
 fuse enough freesoil sentiment into Kansas 
 to preserve its broad fields for free labor. 
 
 By September, 1854, Dr. Robinson had 
 brought two hundred northern immigrants 
 to Lawrence. The site was claimed by a 
 Missourian, who refused to submit his claim 
 to arbitration. He called a band of rowdies 
 to his assistance, but the firmness of the im 
 migrants compelled the retreat of the first 
 invasion of Missouri. 
 
 Gentle Governor Reeder, a Douglas Dem 
 ocrat of mild quality, now issued orders for 
 the election of the first delegate of the terri 
 tory to congress. This was the occasion 
 for the second invasion of Kansas. Nearly 
 two thousand ruffians crossed the border 
 and cast their illegal votes for J. W. Whit- 
 field, the pro-slavery candidate. This fine 
 burlesque upon home rule was followed in 
 the spring of 1855 by an even more bold and 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 351 
 
 shameful outrage upon the principle of pop 
 ular sovereignty. The occasion was the 
 election of the first territorial legislature. 
 A census of the territory showed the popu 
 lation to be about eight thousand five hun 
 dred. Perhaps three thousand of these 
 were voters, nearly three-fourths of whom 
 had come from the south. It was self-evi 
 dent that the pro-slavery element could 
 carry the election. But to make it doubly 
 sure, five thousand border ruffians, organ 
 ized in companies and regiments, with 
 drums beating and fifes shrieking and ban 
 ners flying, armed to the teeth as for bloody 
 battle, marched to the polling places and 
 carried the election. This open fraud was 
 countenanced by the government at Wash 
 ington, but bitterly condemned by the north 
 ern states. 
 
 Their election thus wrought through bra 
 zen effrontery, it is no wonder that the work 
 of these legislators reached the extremes of 
 infamy. The governor had called the legis 
 lature to meet at Pawnee. It remained 
 there four days, then it adjourned itself to 
 Shawnee Mission, near the Missouri border, 
 within hailing distance of its creators in Mis 
 souri. The governor vetoed the proposition 
 to change the meeting-place, and broke off 
 all official communication with the legis 
 lature when it left Pawnee. He contended 
 that it had no authority to do so without 
 his consent. The lawmakers thus left 
 
35 2 Five American Politicians 
 
 alone, abandoned themselves to a carnival 
 of vicious legislation. They passed laws 
 punishing with death anyone who should aid 
 a runaway slave, or should entice a slave 
 away from his master, or should bring into 
 Kansas, from any state, a slave against his 
 master s will. To deny, by spoken or writ 
 ten word, the right to hold slaves in the 
 territory, they made punishable by impris 
 onment for two years, with hard labor. 
 
 These excesses drove the free-state men 
 to desperation. Dr. Robinson sent to 
 Thayer for rifles. His followers he coun 
 selled to ignore utterly the territorial gov 
 ernment, and give obedience alone to the 
 representative of the national government, 
 in the territory. He planned a constitu 
 tional convention which should frame a con 
 stitution, and form the basis of a free-state 
 government. This convention met in To- 
 peka on the 23rd of October, 1855. Its con 
 stitution forbade slavery within the state 
 after July 4, 1857. This instrument was 
 ratified by 1731 votes, while only 46 votes 
 were cast against it. The pro-slavery men 
 did not vote. In January, 1856, the free- 
 state people held their election and chose 
 Dr. Robinson for governor, and a legisla 
 ture in consonance with their constitution. 
 
 There were now two governemnts, a terri 
 torial and a free-state; two governors, one 
 appointed by the President, the other elected 
 by the free-state electorate; two legisla- 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 353 
 
 tures, one foisted into power by the border 
 ruffians, the other chosen by the free-state 
 faction. Kansas was having her full meas 
 ure of self-government. 
 
 The free-state legislature met in March, 
 1856. Its principal business was the pre 
 paring of a memorial, praying congress for 
 admission under the Topeka constitution, 
 and the election of two United States sena 
 tors. Governor Robinson advised modera 
 tion, and cautioned his followers not to do 
 anything hostile to the general government, 
 "or the territorial government while it shall 
 remain with the sanction of congress." 
 
 The tension was now so tightly drawn 
 that it required only a trifling event to snap 
 it. A quarrel over a land claim between a 
 pro-slavery and a free-state man resulted 
 in the murder of the latter. His friends ga 
 thered on the spot of the crime, and swore 
 vengeance. Especially threatening was the 
 attitude of Jacob Bronson against one Buck 
 ley, whom he called the instigator of the 
 murder. Buckley had a peace warrant 
 sworn out against Bronson. The territorial 
 sheriff, Jones, of Douglas county, arrested 
 Bronson and started for Lecompton with 
 the prisoner. As they w r ere nearing Law 
 rence, a body of free-state men rescued 
 Bronson. The sheriff retreated to the bor 
 der, called his Missouri pals to his aid, and re 
 ported the unlawful rescue to the territorial 
 governor. The militia, composed mostly of 
 
 23 
 
354 Five American Politicians 
 
 border ruffians, was summoned to march 
 upon Lawrence and capture the culprits 
 who had rescued Bronson. The people of 
 the threatened town appointed a committee 
 of safety, and sent emissaries to Governor 
 Shannon, to apprise him of the facts. 
 When he learned that the rescue had not 
 taken place in Lawrence, nor by residents of 
 the town, nor at their instigation or conni 
 vance, he hastened to Lawrence himself and 
 negotiated a treaty wherein it was stipulated 
 by the townsfolk that they would not resist 
 legal process, would aid in enforcing the 
 laws, and the governor agreed not to call 
 upon any non-residents of Kansas for aid. 
 The Missourians, yielding to the personal 
 entreaties of the governor, dispersed to their 
 homes, and peace seemed assured* 
 
 But Sheriff Jones learned that some of 
 the Bronson rescuers had returned to Law 
 rence. He forthwith attempted to serve 
 summons on S. W. Wood, but a great crowd 
 gathered and made the escape of the refu 
 gee possible. The next day the sheriff tried 
 to arrest S. F. Tappan, and received a slap 
 in the face for his effort. The Governor 
 sent a company of United States troops 
 from Fort Leavenworth to aid the sheriff, 
 but when they reached Lawrence, the mis 
 creants had disappeared. The soldiers 
 pitched their tents outside the village. Dur 
 ing the night some villainous bigot sneaked 
 into the sheriff s tent and shot him. The 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 355 
 
 wound was not fatal to the sheriff, but it 
 was deadly to the free-state cause. 
 
 The ire of the Missourians was inflamed 
 to white heat; the federal justice Lecanpte 
 charged the grand jury investigating the 
 crime that resistance to federal process is 
 treason, punishable by death; the general 
 government at Washington denounced the 
 crime in flamboyant language; the friends 
 of Free Kansas were humiliated throughout 
 the north. Nor could the disclaimers of the 
 people of Lawrence neutralize the burning 
 acid of these attacks. They sent apologies 
 to the territorial governor; they hunted 
 the criminal, and offered a reward of 
 five hundred dollars for his apprehension. 
 It was of no avail. The grand jury found 
 indictments against the leading citizens of 
 Lawrence, including Dr. Robinson, and the 
 editors of the two local newspapers. These 
 indictments were placed in the hands of the 
 United States marshal, Donalson, for ser 
 vice. All except three of the men gave 
 themselves into the marshal s custody. It 
 was the earnest desire of the villagers to 
 obey the laws. But the marshal was bent 
 upon finding cause for attack. He issued 
 a proclamation calling on all "the law-abid 
 ing citizens of the territory to appear at Le- 
 compton as soon as possible, and in numbers 
 sufficient for the proper execution of the 
 law." The border raiders knew what this 
 meant. They came by the hundreds. They 
 
356 Five American Politicians 
 
 terrorized the neighborhood of Lawrence, 
 and camped on the prairie just outside the 
 village. The frightened people turned in 
 vain to their governor, imploring that he 
 use the United States troops to protect their 
 property. When he was finally told that 
 they would be compelled to defend their 
 rights with the force of arms, and that this 
 meant war, he replied: "War then it is, by 
 God!" 
 
 And war it was. The horde swooped into 
 Lawrence, the printing presses were demol 
 ished, the hotel burned to the ground, the 
 churches pillaged, and even homes given to 
 the flames. Territorial sovereignty became 
 the sovereignty~"of the fire-brand. 
 
 On the night of May 24th John Brown 
 avenged the sacking of Lawrence. With 
 a half dozen members of his family and one 
 or two others, he went to the settlement of 
 Dutch Henry s crossing on Pottawattomie 
 creek. There he dragged five innocent men 
 from their beds and hacked them into pieces 
 with cutlasses. Henceforth he was known 
 as " Pottawattomie Brown/ and his name 
 has been woven into song and story. To 
 those who calmly read the brutal record of 
 his fiendish frenzy he must appear as an 
 arch-criminal, for to robbery he added ar 
 son, to arson murder, and to murder treason. 
 And all under the cloak of freedom! Thus 
 the lawlessness of the border ruffian found 
 its peer in the lawlessness of the insane bigot. 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 357 
 
 For every Sheriff Jones there was a John 
 Brown, and for every sacking of Lawrence 
 there was a Pottawattomie massacre. 
 
 The struggle between the pro-slavery and 
 free-state men became a free-for-all guerilla 
 warfare. Battles were fought at Black Jack 
 and Bull Creek. Ossawattomie was burned, 
 isolated farms pillaged. Missourians rushed 
 in from the east to save the state for slavery, 
 lowans rushed in from the north to main 
 tain the cause of free labor. Upon the 
 fields of Kansas these determined forces met 
 until the shock of battle at last aroused the 
 national government, and federal soldiers 
 under a new and able governor, J. M. Geary, 
 put an end to this bloody fiasco of home rule. 
 The military strife was succeeded by a civil 
 struggle before Kansas could be admitted 
 to the union. 
 
 President Buchanan, soon after his in 
 auguration, sent Robert J. Walker, of Miss 
 issippi, as governor, and F. P. Stanton, of 
 Tennessee, as secretary to the territory. 
 These were wise and honest men, whose care 
 ful guidance helped the conservative free- 
 state men, and the law-abiding pro-slavery 
 element over the threshold of statehood. 
 The pro-slavery men called a convention to 
 convene at Lecompton to frame a constitu 
 tion. This instrument contained an article 
 guaranteeing the right of property in slaves 
 already within the territory. Another clause 
 provided for slavery as a permanent institu- 
 
35$ Five American Politicians 
 
 tion in the state. The plan of the conven 
 tion was to submit this latter provision to 
 the people. They were not to have an op 
 portunity to vote in toto in the constitution ; 
 hence they must have slavery, either as a 
 permanent institution or as a continuation 
 of an existing institution. 
 
 Meanwhile the governor had guaranteed 
 the free-state men a fair and honest election. 
 They had taken a careful census of the terri 
 tory, and found their side in a large majority. 
 An honest election meant the capture of the 
 territorial legislature, and, on October 5, 
 
 1857, this was accomplished, though the 
 governor had to throw out the votes in sev 
 eral eastern counties because the Missouri- 
 ans had cast ten times as many votes as 
 there were inhabitants. 
 
 The free-state men convened this new 
 territorial legislature and resolved to sub 
 mit the whole of the Lecompton constitution 
 to the people on the fourth day of the follow 
 ing January. But the pro-slavery men had 
 fixed December 21 as their election day, 
 and accordingly on that day 6266 votes 
 were cast for the constitution with slavery 
 a permanent institution, and about 600 for 
 the constitution without slavery perma 
 nently fixed upon the commonwealth. 
 Nearly one-half of the votes were fraudulent, 
 and the free-state men refused to vote at all. 
 
 Two elections were fixed for January 4, 
 
 1858. One was ordered by the territorial 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 359 
 
 government, upon the whole of the Lecomp- 
 ton constitution, and the other fixed by the 
 Lecompton constitution itself for the election 
 of state officers. The free-state men carried 
 both of these elections. They cast over ten 
 thousand votes against the Lecompton con 
 stitution, and elected a full quota of officers 
 under the very constitution they rejected. 
 
 The Lecompton constitution was, however, 
 sent to Washington in spite of this overwhelm 
 ing rejection. While congress was struggling 
 with the measure, the free-state people, fear 
 ing lest the national government might foist 
 this unwelcome constitution upon them, 
 called a third constitutional convention, and 
 framed a third constitution, and the people 
 adopted it by three thousand votes. 
 
 There were now, in poor Kansas, three 
 legislatures, the territorial, the Topeka, 
 and the Lecompton; three constitutions, 
 the Topeka, the Lecompton, and the consti 
 tution of 1858. The free-state people con 
 trolled all the legislatures, and had adopted 
 the first and the last constitution. An un 
 questioned majority of the people of the ter 
 ritory had rejected the Lecompton constitu 
 tion. But congress was not satisfied. An 
 other vote upon the Lecompton constitu 
 tion was ordered, and for the second time it 
 was rejected by eleven thousand votes, out 
 of thirteen thousand. 
 
 Here ended the struggle for Kansas. It 
 brought retribution upon the south for the 
 
360 Five American Politicians 
 
 repeal of the compromise; shame upon the 
 north for sanctioning the deeds of rad 
 ical fanatics like John Brown, and disap 
 pointment to all, in its bitter object lessons 
 of the failure of home rule. And to the 
 world it revealed the determination of slav 
 ery and the unrelenting ardor of free labor. 
 In two short years the experience of Kan 
 sas became the bitter experience of the na 
 tion. And who foresaw the prophecy in 
 this unique, tragic struggle? Not the Pres 
 ident. The shedding of blood had indeed 
 aroused him to issue a proclamation char 
 acterizing the efforts of the free-state men 
 as "an attempted insurrection," and calling 
 upon all law-abiding citizens of other states 
 and territories to keep their hands off from 
 Kansas, and commanding all residents of 
 Kansas to obey the law. He had seen only 
 one side of the struggle. Not congress, 
 for it dallied with the Topeka consti 
 tution and sent the Lecompton docu 
 ment back for a third election. The senate 
 had witnessed the brutal attack of Brooks 
 upon Sumner. The house had merely 
 voted a mild censure upon its recreant mem 
 ber, Brooks. Not the Supreme Court. In 
 the Dred Scott case it floundered around in 
 the uncertainties of the constitutional aspects 
 of slavery extension. It seemed to adjudi 
 cate a multitude of things, but decided only 
 that a negro, descended from a slave mother, 
 was not a citizen of the United States, nor 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 361 
 
 indeed could be. Nor did Stephen A. Doug 
 las read the prophecy that the fulfilment of 
 his policy of popular sovereignty had writ 
 ten in flaming letters across the limitless 
 prairies of Kansas. 
 
 But Douglas remained true to his theory. 
 While the southern Democrats repudiated 
 it, and claimed that the Dred Scott decision 
 had decided that neither congress nor the 
 territorial legislatures had the right or the 
 power to exclude slavery from the territories. 
 Not only this, but they further insisted that 
 they had the right to take slaves into the 
 territories, and demanded the protection of 
 the federal government for their slave prop 
 erty in the territories. 
 
 Thus, while Douglas was developing a 
 theory on the " dividing line between fed 
 eral and local authority/ and the people of 
 Kansas were working out, in blood and an 
 guish, their own salvation under this theory, 
 the southern democrats were pushing this 
 dividing line farther and farther away from 
 the national capitol, until it became a van 
 ishing point in the dim horizon. Here JJbm 
 Douglas Democrats and southern Democrats 
 came to the parting of the ways. How por 
 tent for the nation was this parting -none 
 of them foresaw. 
 
 We must now recur to Douglas s political 
 fortunes. Douglas was very ambitious to 
 become President. This ambition fastened 
 
362 Five American Politicians 
 
 itself upon him in its virulent form. He re 
 sorted to the usual methods employed by 
 politicians to bring themselves into promi 
 nence. He posed and planned and jour 
 neyed; he displayed his talents; he spoke 
 to vast throngs ; he made friends with influ 
 ential journals and leading men; he was al 
 ways lavish with good-fellowship and sym 
 pathy. But Douglas did not compromise 
 his convictions. He did not straddle the 
 Great Issue. It was his uncompromising 
 attitude on the question of home rule that 
 estranged him from the south, and lost him 
 the most cherished hope of his heart. 
 
 We have seen that Douglas was the adored 
 chieftain of young men, and that their hot 
 eagerness for his promotion proved fatal to 
 Douglas in 1852. The year 1856 should 
 have been the Douglas year. The "Little 
 Giant" was then in the full stature of his 
 greatness. His popular-sovereignty policy 
 was at the climax of its popularity. The 
 southern Democrats were not yet ready for 
 an open breach, and Douglas s friends had 
 made great efforts to organize his following, 
 and send favorable delegations to the con 
 vention, held that year in Cincinnati. But 
 it was not to be. 
 
 There were four candidates before the 
 convention. Oldest in years and experi 
 ence was Lewis Cass, grim old war horse of 
 Democracy, talented, patriotic, uncompro 
 mising, independent. He had been the 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 363 
 
 party s candidate in 1848; had sought the 
 nomination again in 1852, and now, for the 
 last time, he entered the race. Next in the 
 list stood Franklin Pierce, the President. 
 He was a mild-mannered New Hampshire 
 gentleman, a lawyer of ability, a soldier 
 with a good record, an orator of pleasing 
 grace; a conservative, well-meaning man, 
 with no conspicuous ability for executive 
 work. Third came James Buchanan, of 
 Pennsylvania; a courtly gentleman of the 
 old school, a lawyer of some note, and a 
 statesman whose services had extended 
 over three decades in congress and in the 
 diplomatic corps. These years of public 
 service had not served to reveal any especial 
 talent for statecraft. His was that conser 
 vative, non-aggressive, uniform mediocrity 
 which manipulating politicians love to find 
 in the man they put up for office. Such a 
 man possesses political utility. And finally 
 Judge Douglas completed the list of rivals. 
 Of the four, he stood conspicuously first in 
 ability, and in general popularity. 
 
 You will at once see that the convention 
 of 1856 was almost a replica of the conven 
 tion of 1852. The same candidates were 
 presented, backed by the same influences. 
 Franklin Pierce s name was withdrawn after 
 the fourteenth ballot, and his support went 
 largely to Douglas. There were two hun 
 dred and ninety-six votes in the convention. 
 On the first ballot Buchanan led with 135 J 
 
364 Five American Politicians 
 
 votes; Pierce had 122J; Douglas 33, and 
 Cass 6. After the withdrawal of Pierce the 
 ballot stood: Buchanan 168, Douglas 122, 
 Cass 5. When the sixty-sixth ballot was 
 announced, Col. Richardson, of Illinois, 
 Douglas s manager, read the following tele 
 gram from his chief: 
 
 "Mr. Buchanan having received a major 
 ity of the convention is, in my opinion, en 
 titled to the nomination. I hope my friends 
 will give effect to the voice of the majority 
 of the party." 
 
 The wish was obeyed, and Buchanan re 
 ceived the nomination. 
 
 There is every reason to believe that 
 Douglas acted purely in the interests of 
 party harmony. In a letter to Richardson, 
 received before the balloting began, Douglas 
 said: "From the telegraphic reports in 
 the newspapers I fear that an embittered 
 state of feeling is being engendered in 
 the convention, which may endanger the 
 harmony and success of our party. I 
 wish you and all my friends to bear in 
 mind that I have a thousandfold more anx 
 iety for the triumph of our principles than 
 for my own personal elevation. If the with 
 drawal of my name will contribute to the 
 harmony of our party, or the success of our 
 cause, I hope you will not hesitate to take 
 the step. Especially is it my desire that 
 the action of the convention will embody 
 and express the wishes, feelings and princi- 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 365 
 
 pies of the Democracy of the republic; and 
 hence if Mr. Pierce, or Mr. Buchanan, or any 
 other statesman, who is faithful to the great 
 issues involved in the contest, shall receive 
 a majority of the convention, I earnestly 
 hope that all my friends will unite in insur 
 ing him two-thirds, and then in making his 
 nomination unanimous. Let no personal 
 considerations disturb the harmony or en 
 danger the triumph of our principles." 
 
 This is magnanimous. While it is natur 
 ally partisan, it does not savor of the rancor 
 or bitterness of a small man who fears defeat. 
 There is no evidence that any other motive 
 than the desire of the triumph of his prin 
 ciples prompted Douglas to write this letter. 
 His subsequent actions testify to his sin 
 cerity. He entered heartily into the can 
 vass. But the two men could not remain 
 friends. Buchanan tried to domineer, and 
 no man was ever able to drive Douglas. 
 After the election Douglas called on the 
 President to protest against the forcing of 
 the Lecompton constitution upon Kansas. 
 Buchanan insisted in writing into his mes 
 sage a recommendation of its adoption. 
 Senator Douglas said: "If you do, I will 
 denounce it, as soon as it is read." To this 
 the President hotly retorted: "Remember 
 that no Democrat ever yet differed from an 
 administration of his own choice without be 
 ing crushed. Beware of the fate of Tall- 
 mage and of Rives." "Mr. President," 
 
366 Five American Politicians 
 
 came the unhesitating response, "I wish 
 you to remember that General Jackson is 
 dead!" 
 
 A careful observer might have discerned 
 a forecast of this division in the Cincinnati 
 convention. While the platform was a 
 Douglas document, affirming " popular sov 
 ereignty " to be the basis of true democracy, 
 the convention was manipulated by south 
 ern men whose enthusiasm for Douglas s 
 theory of home rule had been greatly cooled 
 by the practical outcome of the Kansas 
 strife, and who were prepared to read the 
 most radical pro-slavery principles into the 
 Dred Scott decision. Slidell, a crafty south 
 ern radical, was the principal promoter of 
 Buchanan s interest on the floor of the con 
 vention. It was the almost solid vote of the 
 south that gave Buchanan the lead in the 
 convention; and to his election only four 
 northern states, Pennsylvania, New Jer 
 sey, Illinois, and California, contributed 
 their votes. 
 
 The first national Republican convention 
 met in Philadelphia in 1856, and nominated 
 General John C. Fremont for President and 
 William L. Dayton for Vice President. 
 1,300,000 votes were cast for these candi 
 dates, all from the north. Party lines were 
 rapidly merging into sectional lines. 
 
 If the southern leaders distrusted Doug 
 las, they had every reason to feel gratified 
 at the response their confidence in Buchanan 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 367 
 
 called forth. If they feared the independ 
 ence of the doughty champion of " squatter 
 sovereignty," they could implicitly rely 
 upon the ductility of their President. They 
 led him at will. It was apparently their de 
 sign to force slavery upon Kansas by admit 
 ting the state under the Lecompton consti 
 tution. 
 
 We have seen that the free-state people re 
 fused to vote upon the sending of delegates 
 to the Lecompton convention, and that they 
 took no part in the election on the twenty- 
 first of the preceding December, because 
 only one article of the document was to be 
 voted upon. But President Buchanan, in 
 his message to congress, boldly assumed 
 that the one-sided vote upon only one clause 
 in the constitution was an acceptance of the 
 whole by the entire electorate. And he fur 
 thermore advanced the surprising doctrine 
 that it had "been solemnly adjudged by the 
 highest tribunal known to our laws, that 
 slavery exists in Kansas by virtue of the 
 constitution of the United States. Kan 
 sas, therefore, at this moment is as much a 
 slave state as Georgia or South Carolina." 
 This became the orthodox southern inter 
 pretation of the Dred Scott decision. 
 
 To this wild length Douglas could not go. 
 When a majority of his committee on terri 
 tories brought in a report recommending 
 the admission of Kansas under the Lecomp 
 ton constitution, he prepared a minority 
 
Five American Politicians 
 
 report that showed forth most vigorously 
 and clearly that that constitution was not 
 the act of the people of Kansas. He proved 
 that of the thirty-eight counties only nine 
 teen had been represented in the convention ; 
 that not even the widest stretch of the im 
 agination could interpret the submission of 
 only one clause of the constitution, as the 
 submission of the whole; that the election 
 of December 21, 1857, at which only pro- 
 slavery men voted, and which ratified the 
 work of the convention, was illegal, having 
 no sanction in any statute, and that the elec 
 tion of January 4, 1858, in which the free- 
 state men participated and overwhelmingly 
 rejected the constitution, was lawful and 
 valid. Douglas did not deal softly with 
 the pro-slavery men in this report. He ac 
 cused them of conspiring to thwart the will 
 of the people, and to make Kansas a slave 
 state no matter what the cost. 
 
 This frank and manly statement of the 
 facts, made by the leading northern Demo 
 crat, the father of the Kansas-Nebraska bill, 
 and the champion of popular sovereignty, 
 greatly angered the administration. The 
 break between Douglas and the President 
 was complete. All the power of the admin 
 istration was turned against him. The de 
 bate on the committee measure was fierce 
 and acrimonious, as only a factional debate 
 can become. Douglas was taunted as an 
 Abolitionist, a Black Republican, a traitor 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 
 
 to his party. He never displayed his brill 
 iant talents to better advantage than in 
 this bitter struggle for the mastery of Kan 
 sas. Devotion to the principle of popular 
 sovereignty inspired him to magnificent ef 
 fort. He religiously believed that the per 
 petuity of the Union depended upon this 
 principle. This conviction invested all of 
 his words with a seriousness, and his acts 
 with a solemnity, that was most impressive. 
 It also endowed him with an independence 
 that one vainly seeks in a mere politician. 
 
 In March, Crittenden, of Kentucky, 
 moved a substitute for -the administration 
 bill, providing that the Lecompton constitu 
 tion be at once submitted to the people, and, 
 if approved, the state be admitted on the 
 proclamation of the President. If rejected, 
 a convention was to be convened for the 
 purpose of framing a new constitution, to be 
 submitted to the people. Unusual precau 
 tions were provided in the bill against fraud 
 ulent voting, the vice of Kansas at that time. 
 This bill was defeated by a vote of 24 to 34. 
 
 The debate on the general question grew 
 daily in violence and bitterness. The vote 
 was fixed for March 23rd. On the evening 
 of the 22nd Douglas made his final argument. 
 It was one of his best speeches. A brilliant 
 auditory had assembled to hear him, a 
 crowd that overflowed aisles and galleries; 
 that responded to the seriousness of the oc 
 casion, fully realizing the gravity of the sit- 
 
37 Five American Politicians 
 
 uation. Douglas began by reviewing his 
 career in congress, proving the absolute con 
 sistency of his course in adhering unfalter 
 ingly to the great ideal of local autonomy 
 and the equality of the states. He then re 
 iterated what he had so often stated in the 
 Kansas-Nebraska debate, that the compro 
 mise of 1850 had virtually repealed that of 
 1820; that the last measure, of 1850, pro 
 vided a rule of action applicable everywhere 
 north or south of 36 30 , to all territories we 
 then possessed, or ever should acquire. 
 This great compromise, he maintained, was 
 a final settlement of the vexed question of 
 slavery, only on the condition that every 
 territory be allowed to say for itself, whether 
 or not, it desired slavery. To the compro 
 mise must be added popular sovereignty, 
 to make the solution final. This rule was to 
 be fairly applied to Kansas. The people 
 were to decide. But the Lecompton consti 
 tution was not the expressed will of the peo 
 ple. It was illegally conceived and foisted 
 upon the state by a plotting minority. As 
 he neared the conclusion of his speech he 
 flung defiance into the face of the President, 
 who was attempting in every possible man 
 ner to prevent Douglas s reelection to the 
 senate, using the federal patronage of Illi 
 nois as a lever to pry Douglas out of office. 
 In the choice between popular favor or. ad 
 herence to principle, Douglas never hesi 
 tated a moment. Clear as a clarion call his 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 37 1 
 
 voice resounded through the senate cham 
 ber, and reechoed throughout the land. 
 "I do not recognize the right of the Presi 
 dent to tell me my duty in the senate cham 
 ber. When the time comes that a senator 
 is to account to the executive and not to his 
 state, what becomes of the sovereignty of 
 the states? Is it intended to brand every 
 Democrat as a traitor who is opposed to the 
 Lecompton constitution? Come what may, 
 I intend to vote, speak and act according to 
 my own sense of duty. I have no vindica 
 tion to make of my course. Let it speak for 
 itself. Neither the frowns of favor nor the 
 influence of patronage will change my action 
 or drive me from my principles. I stand 
 immovably upon the principles of state sov 
 ereignty, upon which the campaign was 
 fought and the election won. I will stand 
 by the- constitution of the United States 
 with all its compromises, and perform all my 
 obligations under it. If I shall be driven 
 into private life, it is a fate that has no ter 
 rors for me. I prefer private life, preserv 
 ing my own self-respect, to abject and ser 
 vile submission to executive will. If the al 
 ternative be private life, or servile obedience 
 to executive will, I am prepared to retire. 
 Official position has no charms for me, 
 when deprived of freedom of thought and 
 action." 
 
 The senate stood by the President. It 
 passed the Lecompton bill by a vote of 33 to 
 
37 2 Five American Politicians 
 
 25. The house stood by the valiant Doug 
 las and rejected the measure. 
 
 Montgomery, of Pennsylvania, introduced 
 a bill that was the homologue of the Critten- 
 den bill, and this passed the house by a vote 
 of 120 to 112. The senate refused concur 
 rence. The conference committee of both 
 houses compromised upon a plan called the 
 English bill. The plan was to let the people 
 of Kansas vote upon the acceptance or re 
 jection of a grant of public lands. If the 
 people rejected the grant, the vote was to be 
 interpreted as a rejection of the Lecompton 
 constitution. If they accepted it, the con 
 stitution was to be deemed adopted. If the 
 constitution should be rejected then Kansas 
 should remain a territory until it had suf 
 ficient population to entitle her to one repre 
 sentative in congress. 
 
 Douglas refused to give his support to this 
 cowardly dodge. In the course of his dis 
 cussion he said: "Sir, I had hoped that 
 when we came finally to adjust this ques 
 tion, we should have been able to employ 
 language so clear, so unequivocal, that there 
 would have been no room for doubt as to 
 what is meant, and what the line of policy 
 was to be in the future. Are these people 
 left free to take or reject the Lecompton con 
 stitution? If they accept the land grant, 
 they are compelled to take it. If they re 
 ject the land grant, they are out of the 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 373 
 
 He cracked the lash of logic over the heads 
 of his colleagues, for holding out a bounty 
 "to influence these people to vote for this 
 Lecompton constitution," and for the at 
 tempted coercion in compelling Kansas to 
 accept the constitution or remain out of the 
 union until she had attained a population 
 sufficient to entitle her to a congressman ac 
 cording to the existing ratio. 
 
 The bill passed both houses, and, as we 
 have seen, Kansas overwhelmingly rejected 
 the Lecompton constitution and its attend 
 ant bribe of public lands. 
 
 The defeat of the Lecompton bill was 
 looked upon as a triumph for Douglas, a 
 triumph that cost him the friendship of the 
 southern Democrats. As long as they held 
 Buchanan in the hollow of their hand, they 
 could exert a powerful influence against 
 Douglas in the north. It was to regain the 
 undisputed sway over the northern Demo 
 crats, as well as to place himself in a position 
 to command the presidential nomination in 
 1860, that Douglas left the scenes of his bit 
 ter contest in Washington to engage in the 
 canvass for his reelection to the senate. 
 When he reached his home the most signifi 
 cant and earnest struggle of his life awaited 
 him. 
 
 Chicago welcomed him home as a capital 
 receives its prince. A parade of thirty thou 
 sand men escorted him through the principal 
 
374 Five American Politicians 
 
 streets to the Tremont house, where he 
 spoke from a balcony to the assembled thou 
 sands. This, the opening speech of the cam 
 paign, was at once the exordium and the out 
 line of the one hundred and thirty speeches 
 that he made during the one hundred days 
 of the canvass. The text of his speech had 
 been spoken for him some three weeks be 
 fore, when, on June 15th, Abraham Lincoln 
 had accepted the Republican nomination 
 for senator. 
 
 Abraham Lincoln and Stephen A. Doug 
 las were old time rivals. They had been ad 
 mitted to the bar together, they had com 
 peted for political favor in the same com 
 munities, they had practiced law in the same 
 courts on the same circuits, they had been 
 rivals for the hand of the same maiden, and 
 had been opponents in every political strug 
 gle since the days of Jackson. Doug}sS"rla;d 
 become famous, Lincoln had_iemained ob 
 scure; Douglas was~"~ther^eader of a great 
 national party, Lincoln was the local organ 
 izer of a new and untried party; Douglas 
 was the proud creator of the policy of popu 
 lar sovereignty, not caring "whether the 
 people voted slavery up or voted it down/ 
 Lincoln was^the humble commentator on the 
 text of the great declaration that " all men 
 are created free and equal." 
 Y Now these rivals met in a contest that was 
 oestined to become one of the great and glo 
 rious events in our national history. It was 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 375 
 
 not a rivalry of persons but of principles. 
 "Compromise and conviction met upon the 
 same platform and struggled for the mas 
 tery. All semblance of a local contest im 
 mediately vanished, and the eyes of the na 
 tion were upon the rivals; their every word 
 was caught up by eager ears, and every pa 
 per detailed their speech and action. Illi 
 nois became the political and moral battle 
 ground of all the land. 
 
 The rivals were opposites, not alone in po 
 litical convictions, but in methods, in phys 
 iognomy, in mental traits and in moral con 
 ceptions. Providence destined each to be 
 the perfect embodiment of a principle, and 
 nature had prepared each man for his ideal. 
 Douglas, undersized, well knit and erect, 
 his handsome head well poised, graceful of 
 gesture and lordly of mein; Lincoln, tall, 
 gaunt, loosely put together, awkward, called 
 himself "the homeliest man in Illinois." 
 Douglas magnetic beyond resistance, prepos 
 sessing, good-natured, impulsive; Lincoln 
 humble, straight-forward, retiring, uncom 
 plaining. Douglas a master of sophistry 
 and fallacy, resorting to tricks and illu 
 sions, doing everything to win; Lin 
 coln utterly incapable of deception, and 
 so permeated with the truth that he 
 feared misrepresentation more than defeat, 
 Douglas in speech utterly destitute of wit, 
 or of figure, he never quoted, neither did he 
 hesitate, but his volubility was as unfailing 
 
376 Five American Politicians 
 
 as the rushing waters of a mountain torrent. 
 His mastery over the audience was due to 
 this irresistible onrush of words, and to his 
 power to hide the real issue, to magnify 
 small points into the ludicrous, to create 
 whole platoons of straw men out of mere 
 phrases from his opponents speech, and then 
 proceed to demolish them, with stupendous 
 gusto, to the huge delight of his hearers. 
 Douglas was superficial. He never fath 
 omed the meaning of the Dred Scott decision: 
 he was artificial, he never thought through 
 the history of our country. What a contrast 
 to Lincoln, who was nothing if not genuine, 
 who was so profound, that his speeches will 
 remain a perennial well-spring of civic and 
 moral wisdom ! And in speech, what a con 
 trast! Lincoln was slow; his words were 
 all carefully measured before they were 
 joined to his sentences, and his precepts were 
 scrupulously weighed before they were spo 
 ken. He possessed the humor of Aesop, 
 the wisdom of Franklin, the imagery of 
 Burns, the diction of Emerson, the learning 
 of Bacon, the morality of Paul. Douglas, 
 voluble, deceptive, onrushing; Lincoln logi 
 cal, truthful, deliberative. These rivals, 
 these opposites in temperament and in meth 
 od and in purpose, met in the arena of de 
 bate and crystallized the political sentiment 
 of the Union. 
 
 I have said that Lincoln furnished Doug 
 las with the text, in his speech accepting the 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 377 
 
 nomination. This was perhaps the most 
 carefully prepared speech Lincoln ever made. 
 He had taken many weeks to prepare it, 
 writing every sentence on loose scraps of pa 
 per. These he put together with great care. 
 The opening paragraph of the speech is 
 now as familiar to all readers as the opening 
 sentences of the Declaration of Independ 
 ence, or the preamble of the constitution. 
 It contained a prophecy that startled the 
 north; a prophecy that Lincoln himself 
 should be the means of fulfilling. He said: 
 "If we could first know where we are and 
 whither we are tending, we could better 
 judge what to do and how to do it. We are 
 now far into the fifth year since a policy 
 was initiated, with the avowed object and 
 confident purpose of putting an end to slav 
 ery agitation. Under the operation of that 
 policy, that agitation has not only not 
 ceased, but has constantly augmented. In 
 my opinion it will not cease until a crisis 
 shall have been reached and passed. A 
 house divided against itself cannot stand. 
 I believe this government cannot endure 
 permanently, half slave and 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 further 
 sprea4 of it, and place it where the public 
 mind shall rest in the belief that it is in the 
 
Five American Politicians 
 
 course of ultimate extinction, or its advo 
 cates will push it forward till it shall become 
 alike lawful in all states, old as well as new, 
 nprth as well as south/ 
 yfxThis remarkable exordium he followed 
 rwith a careful, logical analysis of the polit 
 ical conditions that prompted the repeal of 
 the Missouri compromise, the Kansas con 
 flict, and the Dred Scott decision. "Put 
 this and that together," he proceeds, "and 
 we have another nice little niche, which we 
 may ere long see filled with another supreme 
 court decision, declaring that the constitu 
 tion of the United States does not permit a 
 state to exclude slavery from its limits. * 
 
 * * Such a decision is all that slavery now 
 lacks of being alike lawful in all the states. 
 
 * * * We shall lie down pleasantly dream 
 ing that the people of Missouri are on the 
 verge of making their state free; and we 
 shall awake to the reality instead, that the 
 Supreme Court has made Illinois a slave 
 state." 
 
 The people of the north were awaiting this 
 speech. They knew not who would utter it/ 
 or when it would be given voice. They 
 only knew that the inexorable goad of the 
 slave-master was driving northern sentiment 
 into the conviction that this government 
 could not "endure permanently half-slave 
 and half-free." It was decreed by Provi 
 dence that humble, honest, gifted Abraham 
 Lincoln should utter these words under con- 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 379 
 
 ditions that gave him a universal hearing, 
 and with such care, such logic, and simplic 
 ity, that at once they became the creed of 
 the northern conscience. 
 
 This was the first speech of the Lincoln- 
 Douglas campaign of 1858. It was this 
 speech that Douglas essayed to answer from 
 the balcony of the Tremont House on the 
 night of his princely reception. Lincoln sat 
 behind him while he delivered his reply. It 
 was a perfectly characteristic speech, and 
 must be read through in order to under 
 stand the clever, catch-penny style, the 
 flippant bombast and the brilliant manoeu- 
 ver of the skilful Douglas. Only the barest 
 sketch can be given here. 
 
 The Senator began by setting himself 
 right in the Lecompton controversy. He 
 aroused wild enthusiasm when he said that 
 he opposed Buchanan, not because the Le 
 compton constitution was a pro-slavery doc 
 ument, but because it was not submitted 
 to the people. "I denied the right of con 
 gress to force it upon them, either as a free 
 state or a slave state. I deny the right of 
 congress to force a slave-holding state upon 
 an unwilling people. I deny their right to 
 force a free state upon an unwilling people . 
 I deny their right to force a good thing upon 
 a people who are unwilling to receive it. 
 The great principle is the right of every 
 community to judge and decide for itself 
 whether a thing is right or wrong, whether 
 
380 Five American Politicians 
 
 it will be good or evil for them to adopt it, 
 and the right of free action, the right of free 
 thought, the right of free judgment upon 
 the question is dearer to every true Ameri 
 can than any other under a free govern 
 ment. * * * Whenever you put a limi 
 tation upon the right of any people to decide 
 what laws they want, you have destroyed 
 the fundamental principle of self-govern 
 ment. Popular sovereignty " appealed to 
 his auditors. It was the ample shield that 
 covered the weak points in his armor. 
 
 Turning to Lincoln s speech of acceptance, 
 he read the opening paragraph quoted above, 
 and proceeded at once to divert the public 
 mind from Lincoln s fundamental assump 
 tion that slavery is a moral wrong. He did 
 this very skilfully, paraphrasing the noble 
 sentiment of the "house divided against 
 itself," and magnifying a bare implication 
 into a major premise. After reading Lin 
 coln s words he proceeded: "In other 
 words, Mr. Lincoln asserts as a fundamental 
 principle of this government that there must 
 be uniformity in the local laws and domestic 
 institutions of each and all the states in the 
 Union ; and he therefore invites all the non- 
 slave-holding states to band together, organize 
 as one body, and make war upon slavery in 
 Kentucky, upon slavery in Virginia, upon 
 slavery in the Carolinas, upon slavery in all 
 the slaveholding states in this Union and to 
 persevere in that war until it shall be exter- 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 381 
 
 minated. * * In other words, Mr. Lin 
 coln advocates boldly and clearly a war of 
 sections, a war of the north against the 
 south, of the free states against the slave 
 states." What could be more deft than this 
 flank movement, putting on Lincoln the sus 
 picion of treason? 
 
 In answer to Lincoln s analysis of the 
 Dred Scott decision he resorts to similar 
 demagogery. "I have no warfare to make 
 on the Supreme Court/ he shouted, " either 
 on account of that or any other decision 
 which they have pronounced from that 
 bench. * * * What security have you 
 for your property, and for your personal 
 rights, if the courts are not upheld, and their 
 decisions respected when once firmly ren 
 dered by the highest tribunal known to the 
 constitution? * * I am opposed to this 
 doctrine of Mr. Lincoln, by which he pro 
 poses to take an appeal from the decision of 
 the Supreme Court of the United States 
 upon these high constitutional questions, to 
 a Republican caucus. * * * I am a 
 law-abiding man. I will sustain the consti 
 tution of my country as our fathers have 
 made it. I will yield obedience to the laws, 
 whether I like them or not, as I find them on 
 the statute books." 
 
 Lincoln s reason for criticising the Dred 
 Scott decision he likewise distorts into a 
 misshapen thing. "He objects to it * * 
 because it deprives the negro of the privil- 
 
382 Five American Politicians 
 
 eges, immunities and rights of citizenship, 
 which pertain, according to that decision, 
 only to the white man." And this the prac 
 ticed debater answers: "I am free to say to 
 you that in my opinion this government of 
 ours is founded on a white basis. It was 
 made by the white men, for the benefit of 
 the white man, to be administered by white 
 men in such manner as they should deter 
 mine. * * * I would give him [the 
 negro] every right and privilege which his 
 capacity would enable him to enjoy, but 
 * * each state must decide for itself the 
 nature and extent of their rights." 
 
 And he thus summarizes the issue : " Thus 
 you see, my fellow-citizens, that the issues be 
 tween Mr. Lincoln and myself * * * 
 are direct, unequivocal, and irreconcilable. 
 He goes for uniformity in our domestic insti 
 tutions, for a war of sections, until one or 
 the other shall be subdued. I go for the 
 great principle of the Kansas-Nebraska Bill, 
 the right of the people to decide for them 
 selves." 
 
 It is questionable whether Douglas meant 
 to so abort the logic of Lincoln and misrep 
 resent his conclusions, for it is probable that 
 he did not himself understand the deep 
 meaning of Lincoln s philosophy, and it is 
 quite certain he failed to comprehend the 
 real significance of the Dred Scott decision 
 as it bore on his pet principle of home rule. 
 And it is doubly certain that he utterly 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 
 
 failed to grasp the great underlying truth 
 of Lincoln s structure, that slavery is a 
 wrong. However, Douglas had a wonderful 
 instinct to see the popular side of an issue, 
 and he never hesitated to espouse it, and to 
 clothe it in catchy phrase. He had the 
 crowd, the volatile crowd, with him. They 
 could understand that a war of sections 
 was rebellion, that a " nigger" was not their 
 equal, that the Supreme Court should be 
 reverenced, that popular sovereignty was 
 fair play. Of Lincoln s high moral attitude, 
 Douglas took no notice. He rather deigned 
 to be above the " Railsplitter " anyway, and 
 silently ignored all allusions to "higher law" 
 and the "rights of man." His catchy phras 
 es acted upon the unthinking multitude like 
 matches on a dry prairie. The flames leaped 
 from village to village, and threatened the 
 Republicans with destruction. 
 
 For Lincoln appeared at great disadvant 
 age. He was speaking to convince, not to 
 amuse; he sought to make men think, not to 
 make them cheer; to make them use their 
 heads, not their hands. The philosophy of 
 right and wrong must finally sink into the 
 heart of the common people he loved, but it 
 was a slow process. Meanwhile Douglas 
 was playing skilfully on the surface, arous 
 ing the emotions and calling forth universal 
 applause. 
 
 Lincoln and his friends realized that some 
 thing must be done to counteract this ad- 
 
384 Five American Politicians 
 
 vantage. If these rivals could appear in 
 joint discussion, Douglas would have to 
 meet Lincoln upon an equality. His silent- 
 contempt and assumed superiority would be 
 neutralized and his language tempered by 
 the presence of Lincoln. Douglas agreed to 
 the debate. Seven meetings were arranged 
 for, in as many towns, each speaker alter 
 nately to open and close, the opening speech 
 to occupy an hour, the reply one hour and a 
 half, the rejoinder one-half hour. Douglas 
 chose to open four debates, leaving Lincoln 
 only three, but he submitted to this inequal 
 ity with his usual good nature. 
 
 Seven Illinois towns were made historic 
 by these meetings. Not one external cir 
 cumstance that could add significance to 
 these occasions was wanting. For thirty 
 miles around, the country emptied itself 
 into each town. The multitudes came on 
 foot, in wagons, by the train load. They 
 camped in the open fields to await the great 
 day. They marched, they sang, they drank 
 and made merry. Bands, torches, fireworks 
 and banners made bizarre these encounters 
 of the giants. The multitudes came in glee, 
 they departed in silence; they gathered in 
 jubilant excitement, they returned to their 
 homes in sober thought; for Lincoln lived up 
 to his simple purpose, "I want to convince 
 the people/ Douglas captivated the peo 
 ple, Lincoln sobered them. Douglas per 
 sisted in amplifying the ostensible assump- 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 3 8 5 
 
 tions of Lincoln; the answer was invariably 
 the simple, convincing logic. Douglas s 
 speeches were turgid with misleading insinu 
 ations ; Lincoln s answers were pregnant with 
 prophecy. 
 
 Douglas made great show of Lincoln s 
 quotation from the Declaration of Inde 
 pendence, that "all men are created free 
 and equal." In his Bloomington speech 
 (not in the series with Lincoln) he said: 
 "He [Lincoln] believes that the negro, 
 by the divine law, is created the equal 
 of the white man, and that no human law 
 can deprive him of that equality thus se 
 cured ; and he contends that the negro ought 
 therefore to have all the rights and privil 
 eges of citizenship on an equality of the 
 white man. In order to accomplish this, 
 the first thing that would have to be done 
 in this state would be to blot out of our 
 state constitution that clause which prohib 
 its negroes from coming into this state and 
 making it an African colony, and permit 
 them to come and spread over these prairies 
 until in mid-day they shall look as black as 
 night. When our friend Lincoln gets all his 
 colored brethren around him here, he will 
 then raise them to perfection as fast as possi 
 ble, and place them on an equality with the 
 white man. * * He wants them to vote. 
 I am opposed to it. If they had a vote, 
 I reckon they would all vote for him in 
 preference to me. * * If the divine law 
 
 25 
 
386 Five American Politicians 
 
 declares that the white man is the equal of 
 the negro woman, that they are on a perfect 
 equality, I suppose he admits the right of 
 the negro woman to many the white man." 
 This demagogery was very popular. 
 
 Lincoln s reply was simple. He reminded 
 Douglas that it was not necessary for a man 
 to have a negro woman for his wife if he 
 did not want her for his slave. He said: 
 "There is a physical difference between the 
 two races which in my judgment will prob 
 ably forever forbid their living together upon 
 the footing of perfect equality ; and inasmuch 
 as it becomes a necessity that there must be 
 a difference, I, as well as Judge Douglas, am 
 in favor of the race to which I belong having 
 the superior position. I have never said 
 anything to the contrary, but I hold that 
 notwithstanding all this, there is no reason 
 in the world why the negro is not entitled 
 to all the natural rights enumerated in the 
 Declaration of Independence, the right to 
 life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. 
 I hold that he is as much entitled to these 
 as the white man. I agree with Judge 
 Douglas he is not my equal in many respects, 
 certainly not in color, perhaps not in morals 
 or intellectual endowments ; but in the right 
 to eat the bread without the leave of any 
 body else, which his own hand earns, he is 
 my equal, and the equal of Judge Douglas, 
 and the equal of every living man." 
 
 Equally popular was Douglas s strategy on 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 387 
 
 the nationalization of slavery. He affected 
 indifference to such an expansion, believing 
 as he had reiterated for twenty years that 
 slavery was a purely local domestic institu 
 tion. "I do not care whether slavery is 
 voted up or voted down," he cried. "Let 
 Kentucky mind her own business and take 
 care of her negroes, and we will attend to 
 our own affairs and take care of our ne 
 groes, and we will be the best of friends. I 
 recognize all the people of the states, north, 
 and south, east and west, old and new, 
 Atlantic and Pacific, as our brethren, flesh 
 of our flesh, and I will do no act unto them 
 that I would not be willing they should do 
 unto us. I would apply the same Christian 
 rule to the states of this Union that we are 
 taught to apply to individuals, do unto 
 others as you would have others do unto 
 you, and this would secure peace." 
 
 Lincoln s rejoinder was no subterfuge. 
 He showed that the slave interests were not 
 satisfied with a mere let-alone policy. They 
 were determined to have slavery declared 
 legal everywhere. "It is merely for the 
 Supreme Court to decide that no state under 
 the constitution can exclude it, just as they 
 have already decided that under the consti 
 tution neither congress nor the territorial 
 legislatures can do it. When that is decided 
 and acquiesced in, the whole thing is done. 
 This being true, and this being the way I 
 think slavery is to be made national, let us 
 
388 Five American Politicians 
 
 consider what Judge Douglas is doing every 
 day to that end. * * * Democratic pol 
 icy in regard to that institution will not 
 tolerate the merest breath, the slightest hint 
 of the least degree of wrong about it. Try 
 it by some of Judge Douglas s arguments. 
 He says he don t care whether it is voted up 
 or voted down in the territories. I do not 
 care myself, in dealing with that expression, 
 whether it is intended to be expressive of 
 his individual sentiments on that subject, or 
 only the national policy he desires to have 
 established. It is alike valuable for my 
 purpose. Any man can say that who r does 
 not see anything wrong in slavery, but no 
 man can logically say it who does see a wrong 
 in it, because no man can logically say he 
 don t care whether a wrong is voted up or 
 down. He may say he don t care whether 
 an indifferent thing is voted up or down, but 
 he must logically have a choice between a 
 right thing and a wrong thing. He con 
 tends that whatever community wants 
 slaves has a right to have them. So they 
 have if it is not a wrong. But if it is a 
 wrong he cannot say people have a right to 
 do wrong. He says that upon the score of 
 equality, slaves should be allowed to go into 
 a new territory like other property. This is 
 strictly logical if there is no difference be 
 tween it and other property. If it and other 
 property are equal, his argument is entirely 
 logical. But if you insist that one is wrong 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 389 
 
 and the other right, there is no use to insinu 
 ate a comparison between right and wrong. 
 You may turn over everything in the Demo 
 cratic policy from beginning to end, whether 
 in the shape it takes in the statute books, in 
 the shape it takes in the Dred Scott decision, 
 in the shape it takes in conversation, in the 
 shape it takes in short, maxim-like argu 
 ments, it everywhere carefully excludes 
 the idea that there is anything wrong in it. 
 That is the real issue. That is the issue that 
 will continue in this country when these poor 
 tongues of Judge Douglas and myself shall 
 be silent. It is the eternal struggle between 
 these two principles, right and wrong, 
 throughout the world. These are the two 
 principles that have stood face to face from 
 the beginning of time, and will ever con 
 tinue to struggle. The one is the common 
 right of humanity, the other is the divine 
 right of kings. It is the same principle in 
 whatever shape it develops itself. It is 
 the same spirit that says, You work and 
 toil and earn bread, and I ll eat it. No 
 matter in what shape it comes, whether from 
 the mouth of a king who seeks to bestride 
 the people of his own nation, and live from 
 the fruit of their labor, or from one race of 
 men as an apology for enslaving another 
 race. It is the same tyrannical principle." 
 
 Douglas knew better than to answer this 
 phase of the argument. 
 
 The differences between the rivals and 
 
39 Five American Politicians 
 
 their convictions is fairly shown by the 
 following extracts. The first is from Doug 
 las s Bloomington speech : " This Union can 
 only be preserved by maintaining the fra 
 ternal feeling between the north and the 
 south, the east and the west. If that good 
 feeling can be preserved the Union will be as 
 perpetual as the fame of its founders. It 
 can be maintained by preserving the sover 
 eignty of states, the right of each state and 
 of each territory to settle its domestic con 
 cerns for itself, and the duty of each to re 
 frain from interfering with the other, in any 
 of its local or domestic institutions. Let 
 that be done, and this republic, which began 
 with thirteen states and which now numbers 
 thirty- two, which when it began only ex 
 tended from the Atlantic to the Mississippi, 
 but now reaches to the Pacific, may yet 
 expand north and south until it covers the 
 whole continent and becomes one vast ocean- 
 bound confederacy. Bear in mind the divid 
 ing line between state rights and federal au 
 thority; let us maintain the great principles 
 of popular sovereignty of state rights and 
 the Federal Union as the constitution has 
 made it, and this Republic will endure for 
 ever." 
 
 Lincoln was more concerned about the 
 dividing line between right and wrong, and 
 about the preservation of the underlying 
 principles of the Republic as laid down in 
 the Declaration of Independence. He said, 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 391 
 
 at Lewiston, in a speech not in the series 
 with Douglas, in which he had shown, by 
 careful historical analysis that the framers 
 of the constitution did not write slavery 
 into the laws of the land, but that they be 
 lieved they had put slavery well on the way 
 to extinction: "Now, if slavery had been 
 a good thing would the fathers of the Repub 
 lic have taken a step calculated to diminish its 
 beneficent influences among themselves and 
 snatch the boon wholly from their posterity? 
 These communities, by their representatives 
 in old Independence Hall, said to the whole 
 world of men : We hold these truths to be 
 self-evident: that all men are created equal ; 
 that they are endowed by their creator with 
 certain inalienable rights; that among them 
 are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. 
 This was their majestic interpretation of the 
 economy of the universe. This was their 
 lofty and wise and noble understanding of 
 the justice of the Creator to his creatures. 
 Yes, gentlemen, to all his creatures, to the 
 whole great family of man. In their en 
 lightened belief, nothing stamped with the 
 divine image and likeness was sent into the 
 world to be trodden on and degraded, and 
 imbruted by its fellows. They grasped not 
 only the whole race of man then living, but 
 they reached forward and seized upon the 
 farthest posterity. * * * Wise states 
 men they were, they knew the tendency of 
 prosperity to breed tyrants, and so they es- 
 
39 2 Five American Politicians 
 
 tablished these great self-evident truths, and 
 when in the distant future some man, some 
 faction, some interest, should set up the 
 doctrine that none but rich men, or none but 
 white men, or none but Anglo-Saxon white 
 men were entitled to life, liberty and the 
 pursuit of happiness, their posterity might 
 look up again to the Declaration of Inde 
 pendence and take courage to renew the 
 battle which their fathers began, so that 
 truth, and justice and mercy, and all the 
 human and Christian virtues might not be 
 extinguished from the land ; so that no man 
 would hereafter dare to limit and circum 
 scribe the great principles on which the 
 temple of liberty was being built. 
 
 "Now, my countrymen, if you have 
 been taught doctrines conflicting with the 
 great landmarks of the Declaration of In 
 dependence; if you have listened to sugges 
 tion which would take away from its gran 
 deur and mutilate the fair symmetry of its 
 proportions; if you have been inclined to 
 believe that all men are not created equal in 
 those inalienable rights enumerated by our 
 chart of liberty, let me entreat you to come 
 back. Return to the fountain whose wat 
 ers spring close by the blood of the revolu 
 tion. Think nothing of me, take no thought 
 of the political fate of any man whomsoever, 
 but come back to the truths that are in the 
 Declaration of Independence. You may do 
 anything with me you choose, if you will but 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 393 
 
 heed those sacred principles. You may not 
 only defeat me for the senate, but you may 
 take me and put me to death. While pre 
 tending no indifference to earthly honors, I 
 do claim to be actuated in this contest, by 
 something higher than an anxiety for office. 
 I charge you to drop every paltry and insig 
 nificant thought of any man s success. It is 
 nothing; I am nothing; Judge Douglas is 
 nothing. But do not destroy that immortal 
 emblem of humanity, the Declaration of In 
 dependence." 
 
 These extracts show more clearly than 
 anything else can, the profound difference 
 between the brilliant debater, the champion 
 of popular sovereignty, and the great states 
 man, the champion of the oppressed race. 
 The difference was a moral difference. Lin 
 coln always went back to the deep sources of 
 popular government, while Douglas was 
 skilfully setting forth his veneered doctrine 
 of popular sovereignty. 
 
 The second debate of the series was held 
 at Freeport, and it was here that fate 
 wrought mightily with the destinies of the 
 republic. For in its effects, both immediate 
 and ultimate, upon the politics of our land 
 this discussion has never had its equal. 
 
 At Ottawa, during the progress of the 
 first debate, Douglas had addressed a series 
 of seven questions to Lincoln. These were 
 so artfully arranged in substance and man 
 ner, that Douglas felt to a certainty that 
 
394 Five American Politicians 
 
 their answers would enmesh Lincoln in the 
 web of defeat. He had underrated the 
 shrewdness of his antagonist. At Freeport, 
 Lincoln answered every question unequivo 
 cally and with perfect frankness, and in turn 
 addressed to Douglas four other questions. 
 The second of these read as follows: "Can 
 the people of a 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?" 
 This was a thrust to the heart. For, if he 
 answered "No" his people would turn 
 against him almost to a man, and if he an 
 swered "Yes" the Democrats of the south, 
 upon whom he depended for his election to 
 the presidency, would spurn him with con 
 tempt. 
 
 The popular-sovereignty doctrine rested 
 upon the theory that the people of a terri 
 tory had a right to vote slavery in or out, 
 as they wished. Douglas had written into 
 his Kansas-Nebraska bill that such right 
 was "subject to the constitution/ 7 Soon 
 after, the Supreme Court, in the Dred Scott 
 case, had decided that the constitution gave 
 congress no power to prohibit slavery in the 
 territories, nor that it could authorize a ter 
 ritorial legislature to prohibit it. The Su 
 preme Court had thus virtually declared pop 
 ular sovereignty unconstitutional; it had 
 pricked the glittering globule of Douglas s 
 statesmanship. Now, if Douglas answered 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 395 
 
 Lincoln s question in the affirmative, what 
 would become of the Supreme Court decision? 
 If he answered in the negative, what would 
 become of the senatorship? Lincoln had 
 foreseen this dilemma. To his friends, who 
 had advised him against asking the question, 
 he replied that Douglas could never answer 
 that question and be both senator and Pres 
 ident. "But," they persisted, "if you do 
 ask him, he will never answer no/ and you 
 cannot then be elected senator." "I am 
 killing larger game/ he rejoined. " If Doug 
 las answers that way, he can not be made 
 President in 1860, and that battle will be 
 bigger than this one." 
 
 The intrepid Douglas did not hesitate to 
 answer. Skilled in parry and thrust, prac 
 ticed in the tactics of flank movements, the 
 veteran debater faced this crisis of his career 
 without hesitation. This was his answer: 
 "I answer emphatically, as Mr. Lincoln has 
 heard me answer a hundred times from ev 
 ery stump in Illinois, that in my opinion the 
 people of a territory can, by lawful means, 
 exclude slavery from their limits prior to 
 the formation of a state constitution. Mr. 
 Lincoln knew that I had answered that 
 question over and over again. He heard 
 me argue the Nebraska bill on that principle 
 all over the state in 1854, in 1855 and in 
 1856, and he has no excuse for pretending to 
 be in doubt as to my position on that ques 
 tion. It matters not what way the Supreme 
 
396 Five American Politicians 
 
 Court may hereafter decide as to the abstract 
 question, whether slavery may or may not 
 go into a territory under the constitution. 
 The people have the lawful means to intro 
 duce or exclude it, as they please, for the 
 reason that slavery cannot exist a day or an 
 hour anywhere, unless it is supported by lo 
 cal police regulation. These police regula 
 tions can only be established by the local 
 legislature, and if the people are opposed to 
 slavery, they will elect representatives to 
 that body who will, by unfriendly legisla 
 tion, effectually prevent the introduction of 
 it into their midst. If, on the contrary, 
 they are for it, their legislation will favor its 
 extension. Hence, no matter what the de 
 cision of the Supreme Court may be on that 
 abstract question, still the right of the people 
 to make a slave territory or a free territory 
 is perfect and complete under the Nebraska 
 bill. I hope Mr. Lincoln deems my answer 
 satisfactory on that point." 
 
 There was no reason why the far-sighted 
 Lincoln should not deem his answer wholly 
 satisfactory. For he knew time would 
 make transparent its cloudy opalescence, 
 and that the people would sooner or later 
 see through the pitiable subterfuge. The 
 crowd at Freeport cheered the answer tre 
 mendously. Douglas had a wonderfully 
 effective way of delivering his sentences, and 
 it was no doubt his straightforward, defiant, 
 masterful manner that carried his " Freeport 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 397 
 
 doctrine" through the campaign, quite as 
 much as the words that so skilfully framed it. 
 
 Lincoln s reply was characteristic. He 
 said that Douglas s dodge on the Dred 
 Scott decision directed people to believe 
 "that a thing may be lawfully driven away 
 from where it has a lawful right to be." 
 Quaintly, and with unanswerable directness, 
 he portrayed the predicament of a man elect 
 ed to a territorial legislature, who took oath 
 that he would support the constitution of the 
 United States, and then violated that oath 
 by passing police regulations unfavorable 
 to slavery. "Why, this is a monstrous sort 
 of talk about the constitution of the United 
 States/ he exclaimed. "There has never 
 been as outlandish and lawless a doctrine 
 from the mouth of any respectable man on 
 earth. I do not believe it is a constitu 
 tional right to hold slaves in a territory of 
 the United States. I believe the decision 
 was improperly made and I go for reversing 
 it. Judge Douglas is furious against those 
 who go for reversing a decision, but he is for 
 legislating it out of all force, while the law it 
 self stands." 
 
 There remains no doubt that Lincoln s 
 was the sounder jurisprudence. He was 
 Douglas s peer as a student of history, and 
 as a constitutional lawyer. The house of 
 Douglas s statesmanship was builded upon 
 the sands of expediency; Lincoln s upon 
 the granite of truth. 
 
39^ Five American Politicians 
 
 But the peerless debater won his fight. 
 He made the multitudes believe that he had 
 parried Lincoln s deadly Freeport thrust. 
 His great prestige abroad, and the affection 
 of the Democracy at home, united with his 
 marvelous strategy, expediency, and ora 
 tory to place him again into the senatorial 
 chair. His majority on a joint vote of the 
 two houses of the legislature was only 
 about eight votes. The Republicans polled 
 nearly four thousand more votes in the state 
 than the Democrats. But the apportion 
 ment of seats in the legislature was based 
 upon the census of 1850, and was more fa 
 vorable to the Democrats than to the Repub 
 licans. 
 
 The personal popularity of Douglas is not 
 to be measured by the closeness of this mar 
 gin. For twenty years he had been the idol 
 of his state, and the people were not willing 
 to withdraw from him their affections, even 
 though they might withhold their votes. 
 Everywhere he was greeted by enormous 
 throngs, and his sentiments were echoed in 
 a surfeit of wild applause. There were no 
 stay-at-home voters in Illinois that year. 
 
 The campaign of enthusiasm closed with 
 a mammoth rally, held in Chicago the night 
 before election. Through rain and mud, 
 the Republicans marched in an enormous 
 torchlight parade, so popular in those days; 
 while the Democrats gathered in a half- 
 dozen large meetings, where they awaited 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 399 
 
 patiently in the rain, the arrival of Douglas, 
 who addressed each meeting. Douglas had 
 made a fortune in Chicago real estate, and 
 his campaign cost him forty thousand dol 
 lars. Lincoln, out of his poverty, could give 
 little more than his personal expenses. He 
 confided to a friend that the campaign had 
 cost him "nigh unto five hundred dollars." 
 
 Buchanan had tried his utmost to compass 
 the defeat of Douglas. He had barred his 
 friends from federal patronage; he deposed 
 the postmaster of Chicago, Douglas s most 
 intimate political friend; he sent emissaries 
 and money into the state; he turned all the 
 power and odium of the administration 
 against him. A more potent combination 
 cannot confront a candidate, and the tri 
 umph of Douglas was not unlike that of 
 Gladstone in 1880. 
 
 On the other hand the reader must not 
 forget that Horace Greeley, and Chittenden, 
 of Kentucky, with other Republicans and 
 former Whig leaders, urged the election of 
 Douglas because of this very alienation be 
 tween the President and the Senator. 
 
 This debate occurred at a critical time in 
 our history, and its influence upon our pol 
 itics was far-reaching. In the first place, 
 the debaters discarded all other issues, 
 and concentrated their power upon the slav 
 ery question. This at once defined the is 
 sue for the coming Presidential campaign 
 in 1860. After the Lincoln-Douglas debate 
 
4OO Five American Politicians 
 
 there could be no other issue until this one 
 was settled. In the second place, the an 
 swer of Douglas to the Freeport question was 
 the wedge that split in twain the great Dem 
 ocratic party. Deeper and deeper this 
 wedge was driven by northern conscience 
 and southern wilfulness, until a mighty 
 party, with great traditions, fell asunder. 
 And thirdly, Abraham Lincoln became not 
 only the destroyer, but also the creator of a 
 national party. With one direct question 
 he had broken the Democracy; by his sim 
 ple, honest words, he called into life the 
 slumbering convictions of the north, and 
 amalgamated them into a unified national 
 Republican party. His utterances were im 
 mediately seized upon by the Republicans 
 of every state, as the expression of their own 
 belief. His words became the creed of the 
 new party. 
 
 Upon the political fortunes of Douglas 
 the debate had a blighting effect. Lincoln 
 proved a true prophet. The answer to the 
 second Freeport question made a senator, 
 and unmade a president. But the prophet 
 probably did not foresee that the answer 
 also made a president. Douglas had of 
 fended the nationalizers of slavery by his at 
 titude on the Lecompton constitution; he 
 added the unpardonable sin to his political 
 shortcomings when he announced that he 
 believed the people of a territory had the 
 right, somehow, to prohibit slavery in their 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 401 
 
 territory. The Buchanan papers hurled 
 their opprobrious epithets at him; and the 
 leaders of the southern Democrats were out 
 spoken in their denunciations, while Bu 
 chanan and his cabinet were determined to 
 read him entirely out of the party. 
 
 Senator Benjamin, of Louisiana, in a 
 speech in the senate, made shortly after the 
 Charleston convention, stated the case for 
 his co-workers in the vineyard of slavery. 
 After confessing his former love for Douglas, 
 he traced the gradual apostasy of the sen 
 ator, and thus summed up the charges of 
 the south: "We accuse him for this, to- 
 wit: that, having bargained with us upon a 
 point upon which we were at issue, that it 
 should be considered a judicial point, that 
 he would abide the decision; that he would 
 act under the decision, and consider it a doc 
 trine of the party; that having said that to 
 us here in the senate, he went home, and 
 under the stress of a local election, his knees 
 gave way; his whole person trembled. His 
 adversary stood upon principles and was 
 beaten, and lo! he is the candidate of a 
 mighty party for the presidency of the 
 United States. The senator from Illinois 
 faltered. He got the prize for which he 
 faltered; but lo! the grand prize of his 
 ambition today slips from his grasp be 
 cause of his faltering in his former contest, 
 and his success in the canvass for the senate, 
 purchased for an ignoble price, has cost him 
 
 26 
 
402 Five American Politicians 
 
 the loss of the Presidency of the United 
 States." 
 
 This was the attitude of the southern or 
 thodoxy. It charged heresy, and it pre 
 scribed the penalty, excommunication. But 
 the apostate high priest was not to be un 
 frocked by editorials, or speeches, or threats. 
 Douglas was never afraid of a contest. He 
 first tried to win over the south by cajoling. 
 When that failed, he fought, and in a fight 
 he was the equal of Andrew Jackson. 
 
 The first important step of the adminis 
 tration to deprive Douglas of power, was 
 taken at the session of congress that con 
 vened soon after the election. He was de 
 posed from the chairmanship of the commit 
 tee on territories. This blow was planned 
 at a secret caucus, and before Douglas had 
 returned to Washington. It was a partisan 
 deed that proved very unpopular through 
 out the north. Douglas had made a brilliant 
 chairman during a period of our history 
 when the committee was the most important 
 one in congress. During the thirteen years 
 that he held the position, two in the house 
 and eleven in the senate, he had guided six 
 territories into statehood, and had organ 
 ized seven territorial governments. His 
 splendid record was deserving of better 
 treatment. 
 
 Immediately after the election Douglas 
 tried to set himself right with the south. As 
 sured of the senatorship, he set about to 
 
"Stephen A. Douglas 403 
 
 make sure of the Democratic nomination for 
 the presidency. In his zeal to conciliate 
 the south, he advanced some very rash and 
 unworthy doctrines about slavery. He 
 made a journey to Louisiana three weeks 
 after his election. At Memphis and New 
 Orleans he was received with pomp and cer 
 emony by committees of prominent citizens. 
 Vast throngs of people assembled to hear 
 him speak, and bands, cannon and fireworks 
 aroused the enthusiasm of the populace. 
 His speeches were very adroit and cunning 
 combinations of his theory of unfriendly 
 legislation, of his belief in rampant expansion 
 to embrace the whole continent and the isl 
 and of Cuba, and of his new and advanced 
 view of slavery. This, doctrine of slavery 
 was purely economic. He said: "When 
 ever a territory has a climate, a soil and pro 
 duction making it the interest of the inhab 
 itants to encourage slave property, they 
 will pass a slave code." The inexorable 
 laws of economics would regulate slavery. 
 It was not a question of humanity. In the 
 cotton belt it was a question between the 
 negro and the crocodile, and he would side 
 with the negro. But if it became a question 
 of white man or black man, he would al 
 ways be for the white man. The Almighty 
 made some lands that needed the labor of 
 the negro, and therein slavery was fore 
 ordained. And in his New Orleans speech 
 he added: "It is a law of humanity, a law 
 
404 Five American Politicians 
 
 of civilization, that whenever a man or a 
 race of men show themselves incapable of 
 managing their own affairs, they must con 
 sent to be governed by those who are capable 
 of performing the duty. It is on this prin 
 ciple that you establish these institutions of 
 charity for the support of the blind, or the 
 deaf and dumb, or the insane. In accord 
 ance with this principle, I assert that the 
 negro race, under all circumstances, at all 
 times, and in all countries, has shown itself 
 incapable of self-government." Would 
 Douglas have made this remarkable assertion 
 in Illinois? Would he have made it in the 
 presence of Lincoln? 
 
 It was January, 1859, before the reflected 
 senator returned to Washington. There he 
 quickly found that his southern speeches 
 had utterly failed to reconcile the hotspurs 
 of the administration. But to his everlast 
 ing credit, Douglas would not stir from his 
 position that congress could not force slavery 
 upon an unwilling territory. In an extend 
 ed altercation with Senator Brown, of Mis 
 sissippi, on February 23rd, he said, with 
 great earnestness: "If you repudiate the 
 doctrine of non-intervention, and form a 
 slave code by act of congress, where the 
 people of a territory refuse it, you must step 
 off the Democratic platform. We will let 
 you depart in peace, as you no longer belong 
 to us^you are no longer of us when you 
 adopt the principle of congressional inter- 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 405 
 
 vention in violation of the Democratic creed. 
 I stand here defending the great principle 
 of non-intervention by congress, and self- 
 government by the people of the territories. 
 That is the Democratic creed. The Dem 
 ocracy in the northern states have so under 
 stood it. No northern democratic state 
 would ever have voted for Mr. Buchanan 
 but for the fact that he was understood to 
 occupy that position. Gentlemen of the 
 southern states, I tell you in all candor, that 
 I do not believe a Democratic candidate 
 can ever carry away one northern Demo 
 cratic state on the platform that it is the 
 duty of the federal government to force the 
 people of a territory to have slavery when 
 they do not want it. But if the true prin 
 ciples of state rights and popular sovereignty 
 be maintained and carried out in good faith, 
 as set forth in the Nebraska bill, and as un 
 derstood by the people in 1856, a glorious 
 future awaits the Democracy." 
 
 Was it possible that Douglas did not dis 
 cern the secret motive of the extremists in 
 urging this schism? They were not seeking 
 his advice. They were wilfully hastening 
 events that would offer them an ostensible 
 excuse for dividing, not alone their party, 
 but also their country. 
 
 After the adjournment of congress, Doug 
 las received a letter from his friend J. B. 
 Dorr, of Iowa, asking him whether he would 
 permit his name to be presented as candi- 
 
46 Five American Politicians 
 
 date for the presidential nomination in the 
 Charleston convention, to be held the follow 
 ing year. This was his answer: 
 
 "Before the question can be finally de 
 termined, it will be necessary to understand 
 distinctly upon what issue the canvass is 
 to be conducted. If, as I have full faith 
 they will, the Democratic party shall deter 
 mine, in the presidential election of 1860, to 
 adhere to the principle embodied in the com 
 promise measures of 1850, and ratified by 
 the people in the presidential election of 
 1852, and reaffirmed in the Kansas-Nebraska 
 act of 1854, and incorporated into the Cin 
 cinnati platform of 1856, as expounded by 
 Mr. Buchanan in his letter accepting the 
 nomination and approved by the people, in 
 that event my friends will be at liberty to 
 present my name to the convention if they 
 see proper to do so. If, on the contrary, it 
 shall become the policy of the Democratic 
 party which I cannot anticipate to re 
 pudiate these, their time-honored princi 
 ples, on which we have achieved so many 
 patriotic triumphs, and if, in lieu of them, 
 the convention shall interpolate into the 
 creed of the party such new issues as the re 
 vival of the African slave trade, or a con 
 gressional slave code for the territories, or 
 the doctrine that the constitution of the 
 United States either establishes or prohibits 
 slavery in the territories, beyond the power 
 of the people to control it as other property, 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 4<>7 
 
 it is due to candor to say that, in such an 
 event, I could not accept the nomination if 
 tendered to me." 
 
 This frank letter was given a wide circu 
 lation. It was interpreted by the south as 
 a threat that Douglas meant to remain the 
 leader of the party at all hazards; in the 
 north as a manly appeal to all Democrats to 
 stand by the established principles of state 
 rights. The slavery extensionists redoubled 
 their endeavors to get rid of Douglas, but 
 they only multiplied his energy and quick 
 ened his aggressiveness. He was deter 
 mined to hold his wing of the party together. 
 He carried the fight for his Democracy into 
 every northern state. He used every wea 
 pon known to the political strategist. In 
 September, 1859, he published an article in 
 "Harper s Magazine" in which he tried to 
 show, by a careful, historical analysis, "the 
 dividing line between local and federal au 
 thority." He traced the principles of the 
 Kansas-Nebraska Bill back to colonial 
 times, and maintained that the power to 
 exclude slavery from the territories was not 
 one of the prohibited powers enumerated in 
 the constitution. 
 
 His ingenious method of political warfare 
 caused some consternation among the ad 
 ministration Democrats, and Buchanan des 
 ignated his attorney general, Judge Black, 
 as his defender. Black wrote his answer in 
 to an anonymous pamphlet, in which he 
 
408 Five American Politicians 
 
 characterized the essay as "an unsuccessful 
 effort at legal precision; like the writing of 
 a judge who is trying in vain to give good 
 reasons for a wrong decision on a quotation 
 of law which he has not quite mastered." 
 
 Douglas was campaigning in Ohio when 
 the pamphlet appeared, and he answered it 
 in a speech at Wooster. To this, Black 
 wrote a rejoinder, and the war of pamphlets 
 supplemented the war of the hustings. 
 Douglas had the final shot: "To separate 
 Mr. Douglas from the Democratic party, 
 seems to be the patriotic end to which they 
 all aim. They may as well make up their 
 minds to believe, if they have not already 
 been convinced of the fact by the bitter 
 experience of the last two years, that the 
 thing cannot be done. I gave them notice 
 at the initial point of this crusade, that no 
 man, or set of men on earth, save one, could 
 separate me from the Democratic party, and 
 as I was that one, and the only one who had 
 the power, I did not intend to do it myself 
 nor permit it to be done by others." 
 
 It was a magnificent fight that Douglas 
 waged against his enemies within the party. 
 It was a struggle of national magnitude, and 
 the nation followed him with eager antici 
 pation. In Ohio, where he had engaged to 
 make several speeches, he combated not 
 only administration Democrats but he found 
 his old rival, Lincoln, who had followed him 
 into Ohio to make some campaign speeches. 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 409 
 
 Indeed, the Lincoln-Douglas debate did not 
 end until the fateful election of 1860 made 
 of these rivals co-workers in the cause of 
 nationalism. 
 
 Events now crowded one another with 
 alarming haste. In the midst of the state 
 campaigns of 1859, John Brown startled the 
 country with his insane attempt to emanci 
 pate the slaves in the neighborhood of Har 
 per s Ferry by force of arms. Whatever 
 may be the judgment of history upon this 
 uncouth character, the blended product of 
 New England piety, frontier bravado and 
 insane delusion, upon the tense political sit 
 uation of his day, his miserable, miscarried 
 plans had the most dire effects. The north 
 was humiliated, the south was made deliri 
 ous. Fear of slave insurrections lurked 
 always in the hearts of the slave masters. 
 It stalked among them like a death dealing 
 spectre. Now they pointed to Harper s 
 Ferry as an object lesson of republican in 
 tentions. In congress they immediately ap 
 pointed a committe of investigation. The 
 committee sought in vain for proof that 
 John Brown was instigated by Republicans, 
 and that the party was responsible for his 
 raid. Nor could they even call the seizure 
 of the arsenal a treasonable act as denned 
 by the constitution; but they were com 
 pelled to report it " simply the act of lawless 
 ruffians under the sanction of no public or 
 political authority." The minority report 
 
410 Five American Politicians 
 
 of the committee sought to prove that the 
 episode was a direct outgrowth of border 
 ruffianism in Kansas. 
 
 The debate upon these reports was the 
 occasion of bitter taunts and maledictions. 
 In the house, parliamentary babel reigned 
 for over two months, while the fire-eaters 
 of the south and the determined conserva 
 tives of the north were grappling with each 
 other for the speakership. In the senate a 
 bill was reported from the judiciary com 
 mittee "for the protection of each state and 
 territory of the Union against invasion by 
 the authorities or inhabitants of any other 
 state." 
 
 Douglas announced that on the 23rd of 
 January he would address the senate upon 
 this bill. He was the commanding figure 
 of this congressional struggle for unity in 
 the Democratic party, for unity in our nation. 
 Although he was not to speak until 2 o clock 
 in the afternoon, long before the hour of 
 noon the galleries were packed. Almost the 
 entire house of representatives shared the 
 floor with the senators. Douglas spoke to 
 the nation. If any one expected that he 
 would depart from the landmarks of his 
 former statesmanship, and espouse the doc 
 trines of Jefferson Davis and Buchanan, or 
 if any came expecting to hear new theories 
 of slavery, or to find a new panacea for the 
 nation s great woe, they were disappointed. 
 But those who gathered in that notable 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 411 
 
 throng expecting to hear a brilliant exposi 
 tion of the doctrine of state sovereignty, as 
 consistently preached by its high priest for 
 so many years, were gratified beyond meas 
 ure. Douglas said nothing new. He had 
 long ago found the ultimate capacity of his 
 theory of state sovereignty. He was trying 
 to recall the Democratic dissenters by turn 
 ing them against the Republicans. "The 
 Harper s Ferry Crime" he called "the nat 
 ural, logical, inevitable result of the teach 
 ings of the Republican party. The great 
 principle that underlies the organization of 
 the Republican party is violent, irrecon 
 cilable, eternal warfare upon the institution 
 of American slavery, with the view of its 
 ultimate extinction throughout the land; 
 sectional war is to be waged until the cotton 
 fields of the south shall be cultivated by 
 free labor, or the rye fields of New York and 
 Massachusetts shall be cultivated by slave 
 labor." He reiterated his belief that "the 
 question of slavery is one of climate and po 
 litical economy, of self-interest, not a ques 
 tion of legislation." "You cannot force 
 slavery by all the acts of congress you may 
 make/ he tells the south, "on one inch of 
 territory, against the will of the people." 
 "And you cannot," he told the north, "by 
 any law you can make, keep it from one inch 
 of American territory where the people want 
 it." And for the thousandth time he ex 
 claims: "My object is to establish firmly 
 
412 Five American Politicians 
 
 the doctrine that each state is to do its own 
 voting, establish its own institutions, make 
 its own laws without interference, directly 
 or indirectly, from any outside power." 
 
 The slave-masters were out of the reach 
 of any state rights arguments. They had 
 for several years abandoned that basis of 
 action. They had shifted onto the basis 
 that the constitution legalized slavery in the 
 territories, whether the people wanted it or 
 not. They could therefore not be satisfied 
 with Douglas. His speech merely aroused 
 their anger and intensified the venom of 
 their attacks. 
 
 And the Republicans : it was not expected 
 that they would be moved by such an appeal. 
 Of Seward, Douglas said : " His entire argu 
 ment rests upon the assumption that the 
 negro and the white man were equal by di 
 vine law, and hence all laws and constitu 
 tions and governments in violation of the 
 principle of negro equality are in violation 
 of the law of God." And he proceeded to 
 show, in his own peculiar and misleading 
 and demagogical manner how this would 
 set the constitution of the United States in 
 conflict with the divine law, and thus either 
 make divine law unconstitutional or the 
 constitution an instrument of iniquity. How 
 could such rant win a conscience-possessed 
 people? 
 
 Here, then, you see the position of Stephen 
 A. Douglas in the opening of the eventful 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 4*3 
 
 year 1860. His country is divided upon the 
 question of slavery. One portion believes 
 slavery to be a necessary institution, there 
 fore a divine institution, sanctioned by God, 
 by the constitution and by the practice of 
 the people; the other portion believes slavery 
 to be wrong, equally in conflict with the 
 divine will and the Declaration of Inde 
 pendence and the interests of civilization. 
 One portion believes that the constitution 
 carries this institution into every territory; 
 the other portion believes that the constitu 
 tion meant merely to tolerate slavery where 
 it existed in 1787. One portion believes 
 that a state can declare itself independent 
 of the Union ; the other portion believes that 
 Union could not be ruptured by any volun 
 tary act of any state. Both portions were 
 fierce in their determination; both were re 
 lentless, unforgiving, unyielding. There was 
 a third portion that remained neutral, rather 
 hoping for the ultimate extinction of slavery, 
 but unwilling to make it the cause for rup 
 ture. 
 
 His party he found likewise divided. 
 The southern wing was led by Jefferson 
 Davis. Step by step they had advanced 
 from the position of passive toleration of 
 slavery to the position of aggressive expan 
 sion of slave territory. It was no longer the 
 Democracy of Jackson or even of Calhoun. 
 It was the Democracy of Taney, the Democ 
 racy that had rephrased the philosophy of 
 
Five American Politicians 
 
 the republic, and reformed the theory of our 
 constitution; the Democracy that by subtle 
 and potent influence had spread its power 
 over the land, had possessed itself of Presi 
 dent and Cabinet, of House and Senate, of 
 even the Supreme Court, had advanced from 
 the compromise of 1820 to that of 1850, 
 from the compromise of 1850 to the Kansas- 
 Nebraska bill, from the Kansas-Nebraska 
 bill to the Dred Scott decision, and from the 
 Dred Scott decision to the struggle for Le- 
 compton. Like a deadly paralysis, its icy 
 chill was creeping over the body politic. 
 Already the Declaration of Independence was 
 writhing under its baneful grasp and the con 
 stitution was palsied by its blighting touch. 
 
 This wing of the party was led by Jefferson 
 Davis, a man of great ability, terse in speech, 
 pointed in argument, gentle in manner, 
 brave in action, who had learned Calhoun s 
 doctrine that the territory is the co-partner 
 of the state, and that a citizen going from a 
 state into a territory, took the laws of his 
 state with him. This doctrine he hoarded 
 until the time was propitious for its wider 
 promulgation. He was not a profound man, 
 neither was he erratic, but he was persistent. 
 The conspicuous part he played in the 
 drama of secession has invested him with 
 an odium that only time can dispel. 
 
 The northern wing of the party was, of 
 course, led by Douglas. As has been shown 
 many times, he believed absolutely in home 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 415 
 
 rule. His followers were willing to let sla 
 very alone and adhered strictly to his well- 
 worn doctrine of popular sovereignty. They 
 were determined not to surrender to the ad 
 ministration forces, nor to give way to the 
 prestige that the new Republican party was 
 rapidly gaining throughout the north. They 
 were between the upper and the nether mill 
 stones, the millstone of southern obstinacy 
 and the millstone of northern conviction. 
 Their fate was sealed by their neutrality. For 
 at a time of a national crisis, neutrals are not 
 wanted. And the year 1860 marked the cul 
 mination of the political crisis that was begun 
 when the slavery compromises were written 
 into the constitution of the United States, 
 the political crisis that culminated in the 
 civil war. 
 
 The Douglas Democrats did not expect 
 that war. The north did not believe the 
 south would precipitate a war, a civil war. 
 They failed to discover the significance of 
 events, skilfully concealed by the slave- 
 masters under the cloak of Buchanan s ad 
 ministration. So Republicans and Douglas 
 Democrats went boldly almost merrily for 
 ward to meet the political campaigns of that 
 eventful year. Had they been less innocent 
 of the motives of the south, their eyes would 
 early have been opened to the true situation. 
 
 For on the 2nd of February Jefferson 
 Davis introduced his noted resolutions, set 
 ting forth the doctrines that his party would 
 
41 6 Five American Politicians 
 
 promulgate in the campaign. There were 
 six resolutions. They affirmed the sover 
 eignty of the states, and their absolute equal 
 ity; they declared negro slavery an estab 
 lished institution in fifteen states, protected 
 by the constitution, and therefore it should 
 be let alone by all the other states; they in 
 sisted that slave owners could take their 
 property into territories, and that if the 
 judicial executive authority failed to pro 
 tect it, then it became the duty of congress 
 to do so; and finally the resolutions declared 
 that only when about to form its first state 
 constitution, could the people of a territory 
 " decide for themselves whether slavery as 
 a domestic institution shall be sustained or 
 prohibited within their jurisdiction^ 
 
 The object of these resolutions was to 
 stultify the effect of Douglas s letter to Dorr, 
 to crystallize the creed of Democracy before 
 the national convention, which was called 
 to convene in Charleston on April 23rd. 
 But Davis could not hasten a vote, and the 
 debate extended far into May. It was evi 
 dent from the utterances that this debate 
 brought forth, that the southern leaders 
 were growing more determined with every 
 recurring day to rid themselves of Douglas. 
 They went into the Charleston convention 
 determined to force their views upon the 
 great national party, which they had con 
 trolled for so many years. They had had 
 their way so often, so easily and for so long, 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 4*7 
 
 that they never dreamed of the capacity of 
 the northern Democrats for manly resist 
 ance and independence. 
 
 Douglas was the preeminent man of this 
 convention. Seven northwestern states had 
 given him the prestige of solid delegations, 
 aggregating one hundred and thirty-two 
 votes. These alone represented six hun 
 dred thousand Democratic voters, or as 
 many as the entire fifteen slave states could 
 produce, and one-third of the entire Demo 
 cratic vote of the Union. He was unques 
 tionably the most popular man in the party 
 with a wonderful capacity for inspiring hero 
 worship, and by far the ablest exponent of 
 the non-interference doctrine. He had a 
 majority of the delegates, but not a majority 
 of the states, so his enemies captured the 
 machinery of the convention by having all 
 the committees appointed and the officers 
 elected by states. Caleb Gushing, of Massa 
 chusetts, an ardent friend of Buchanan, was 
 made chairman. 
 
 The great struggle was over the platform, 
 for Douglas had said in his Dorr letter, and 
 in many public utterances, that he would 
 not stand on a platform that did not em 
 body popular sovereignty. If the platform 
 could be made by the south then this trouble 
 some man would be put out of the way. 
 The platform committee, accordingly, held 
 the key of the convention, and it locked the 
 door upon Douglas. Three days and three 
 
 27 
 
418 Five American Politicians 
 
 nights this committee wrestled with the 
 slavery plank. They could not unite and 
 brought in two reports. The majority re 
 port read by A very, of North Carolina, em 
 braced the doctrines of the Senate resolutions 
 introduced by Jefferson Davis. The minority 
 report read by Payne, of Ohio, resolved, 
 "That all questions in regard to the rights of 
 property in states or territories, arising under 
 the constitution of the United States are judi 
 cial in their character, and the Democratic 
 party is pledged to abide by and faithfully 
 carry out such determination of these ques 
 tions as has been or may be made by the 
 Supreme Court of the United States." 
 
 The south spurned even this mild state 
 ment. They were determined upon having 
 their own way. But the north was also de 
 termined. Senator Payne closed his plea 
 for the minority report with the words : "I 
 repeat that upon this question of congress 
 ional non-intervention we are committed 
 by the acts of congress; we are committed 
 by the acts of the national Democratic con 
 vention; we cannot recede without personal 
 dishonor, and, so help us God, we never will 
 recede ! " 
 
 Yancey, the Machiavelli of the cotton 
 states, smilingly replied that the north 
 would then invite defeat. They had been 
 losing ground before the onrush of their Re 
 publican adversaries because they had dared 
 to admit slavery to be a wrong; they must 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 4*9 
 
 recede, rather, from this ignoble view of a 
 great domestic institution, and must em 
 brace the higher faith, that slavery must be 
 protected by congress in every territory, if 
 they would join again in songs of triumph. 
 
 This speech was received with thundering 
 applause by the galleries, crowded with 
 Charleston citizens. Senator Pugh, of Ohio, 
 was on his feet in an instant. Indignantly 
 he retorted that the spread of the Republi 
 can party was due to the ever increasing de 
 mands of the slave states. His brethren 
 from the north are now asked to bury their 
 faces in the dust of humiliation. " Gentle 
 men of the south/ he cried, "you mistake 
 us. We will not do it!" No applause from 
 the galleries greeted this ringing challenge. 
 Instead, there was the deathlike silence that 
 foretokens the cyclone. 
 
 The re-committal of the platform to the 
 committee availed not. Neither did Benja 
 min F. Butler s suggestion that the conven 
 tion simply reaffirm the Cincinnati platform. 
 
 On Monday, April 30th, on the seventh 
 day of the convention, the storm broke, a 
 storm that had been gathering for years. 
 By a vote of 165 to 138 it was voted to sub 
 stitute the minority for the majority report. 
 
 Yancey s time had come. He had planned 
 for it and was ready. He arose amid the 
 turbulent throng and led from the hall the 
 sullen south. Alabama, Mississippi, Louisi 
 ana, South Carolina, Florida, Texas, Ar- 
 
420 Five American Politicians 
 
 kansas, and a portion of Georgia, followed 
 him. The Democratic party was no longer 
 national. 
 
 There remained a majority of the whole 
 number of delegates. Fifty-seven ballots 
 they cast for the Presidential ilomination, 
 but Douglas could not secure the requisite 
 two-thirds. The convention determined to 
 adjourn to meet in Baltimore on the 18th 
 of June. They asked the party organiza 
 tion in the states whose delegates had left the 
 convention, to fill their places, and hoped that 
 in the interval of six weeks, the sober second 
 judgment of the southern leaders would 
 bring them to repentance. Meanwhile the 
 seceding delegates organized a convention 
 of their own. They adopted the majority 
 report of the platform committee, spent 
 their surplus energy in four days of speech 
 making, and adjourned to meet in Richmond 
 on the eleventh of June. 
 
 All hope that the interval might bring 
 calm reflection and sweet reconciliation was 
 vain. Bitter and sweet water cannot flow 
 from the same well. Slavery had been the 
 perennial source of too much bitterness to 
 be now transformed into a wellspring of 
 wholesome cooperation with the north. 
 
 Jefferson Davis, the master of the situa 
 tion, began a terrific and vindictive onslaught 
 upon " squatter sovereignty" from his place 
 in the senate on May 7th. He declared it 
 the deadly Upas, that had poisoned the 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 421 
 
 whole land. Douglas flashed back that a 
 congressional caucus had no right to create 
 new articles of faith for the Democratic 
 party. The great principle of Democracy 
 was that the majority ruled. "And now/ 
 he asked, "shall the majority surrender to 
 the minority?" Anyone who demanded 
 this was not a Democrat. Davis placidly 
 replied that by his fight on Lecompton, 
 Douglas put himself outside the party. He 
 dared the Douglas Democrats to act without 
 the south. The Cotton States would not 
 submit to northern dictation. 
 
 Thus they fought for two weeks, these 
 giants of the opposing factions. With every 
 word, they drove farther asunder the two 
 sections. On the 25th of May the Davis 
 resolution passed the senate by a vote of 
 two to one. 
 
 A week before this vote was taken, May 
 16th, occurred another event that made it 
 still more impossible for Jefferson Davis and 
 Stephen A. Douglas to weld their differences 
 and to reunite the party. On that day the 
 national Republican convention met in Chi 
 cago. There were no delegates from the 
 south. It was a northern party; it adopted 
 a northern platform; it nominated a northern 
 man for President and a northern man for 
 Vice-President. When the south learned 
 that Abraham Lincoln, of Illinois, the ear 
 nest defender of the proposition that slavery 
 is a wrong, had been named for President, 
 
422 Five American Politicians 
 
 and that Hannibal Hamlin, of Maine, an able 
 and ardent advocate of slavery restriction had 
 been named for Vice-President, upon a plat 
 form that declared unequivocally "that the 
 normal condition of all the territory of the 
 United States is that of freedom " and that 
 denied "the authority of congress, of a terri 
 torial legislature, or of any individuals, to 
 give legal existence to slavery in any 
 territory of the United States," their de 
 termination to force their views upon 
 the Democratic party became unalterably 
 fixed. 
 
 And when these southern slave-masters 
 learned further that the remnants of the old 
 Whig party, still powerful in the border 
 states, had reorganized under the name of 
 "The Constitutional Union Party," and had 
 nominated John Bell, of Tennessee, for 
 President, and Edward Everett, of Massa 
 chusetts, for Vice-President, both statesmen 
 of the old school, devoted to reconciliation 
 and compromise, upon the simple, laconic 
 platform, "The constitution of the country, 
 the union of the states and the enforcement 
 of the constitution," they fully and finally 
 realized that it was absolutely necessary for 
 them to cohere in their isolation, and to 
 repel all advances for reuniting the party. 
 From their viewpoint, there was but one 
 course to pursue. If the national Demo 
 cratic party would not bow to them, they 
 would break the party upon the rocks of 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 
 
 secession. At all hazards they would keep 
 their section a " solid south." 
 
 According to adjournment, the Davis 
 Democrats met in Richmond. There was 
 not a trace of conciliatory disposition. Four 
 days were spent in aimless talking, when 
 they recessed to meet in Baltimore on the 
 28th. They were evidently waiting to see 
 what the Douglas Democrats would do. 
 Perhaps the action of the erstwhile " Know- 
 nothing" party, in nominating Bell and 
 Everett, made them uneasy. It was a 
 danger they had not counted on. 
 
 The northern Democrats also met pursu 
 ant to adjournment, in Baltimore. There 
 was here neither spirit of forgiveness nor of 
 harmony. Chaos reigned, and wild confu 
 sion. Some of the states that had left the 
 hall in Charleston had sent contesting dele 
 gates, and these were as water poured upon 
 molten iron. For days the parliamentary 
 tumult continued. To the bitterness of po 
 litical discussion was added personal rancor. 
 The speakers exhausted every name in the 
 vocabulary of crimination, and every adjec 
 tive in the dictionary of defamation. At 
 night, the leaders harangued the crowds at 
 rival mass meetings. The populace caught 
 the inflammation of discord and added their 
 spectacular demonstration to the evidences 
 of an enduring rupture. 
 
 Douglas, hearing of the turmoil, sent a 
 telegram to his friends, suggesting that peace 
 
424 Five American Politicians 
 
 might be restored to party and country, if 
 his name were withdrawn, and a compromise 
 candidate named. But his managers sup 
 pressed the telegram. It is probable that 
 the division had grown so wide that no can 
 didate could have been found, agreeable to 
 both factions. 
 
 On the fifth day, the president of the con 
 vention, Caleb Gushing, resigned his seat 
 and left the hall. He took with him that 
 portion of the south that had not seceded at 
 Charleston, namely, North Carolina, Vir 
 ginia, Tennessee ; the border states, Maryland 
 and Kentucky, and the two northern states, 
 California and Delaware. These he ushered 
 into Maryland Institute Hall, where Yancey 
 and his extremists met, and there was or 
 ganized finally, for the nomination of presi 
 dential candidates, the Democracy of the 
 South. John C. Breckenridge, of Kentucky, 
 was named for President, and Joseph Lane, 
 of Oregon, for Vice-President. They ad 
 hered to the custom of naming one candi 
 date from each section. As Yancey had for 
 many years secretly plotted this movement 
 of secession, had been the master-spirit of 
 the intrigue in Charleston, Richmond and 
 Baltimore, it was only fitting that he pro 
 nounce his unholy benediction upon the ter 
 rible work he had accomplished. With his 
 customary complacency and sinister smile, he 
 told the mob that he was not for the Union 
 per se, nor against the Union per se. But he 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 4^5 
 
 was for the constitution. He believed that 
 as yet the Union was safe, because Democ 
 racy was safe. His treasonable suggestion 
 that the election alone could determine how 
 long the Union would be safe, was received 
 with a wild howl of approval. 
 
 The regular Democratic convention nomi 
 nated Douglas for President on the first bal 
 lot by an almost unanimous vote. Fitzpat- 
 rick, of Alabama, was named for Vice-Presi- 
 dent, but he refused the honor, and H. V. 
 Johnson, of Georgia, was named in his stead. 
 After the nominations had been made, Wil 
 liam A. Richardson, of Illinois, Douglas s 
 manager, read a letter from Douglas, dated 
 at Washington, June 20th. In this letter 
 Douglas deplores the demoralization of the 
 party. " I firmly and conscientiously believe 
 that there is no safety for this country, 
 no hope for the preservation of the Union, 
 except by a faithful and rigid adherence to 
 the doctrine of non-intervention by congress 
 with slavery in the territories. Interven 
 tion means disunion. There is no difference 
 in principle between northern and southern 
 intervention. The one intervenes for sla 
 very, the other against slavery; but each 
 appeals to the passions and prejudices of his 
 own section against the peace of the whole 
 country and the rights of self-government 
 by the people of the territories. Hence the 
 doctrine of non-intervention must be main 
 tained at all hazards. But while I can never 
 
426 Five American Politicians 
 
 sacrifice the principle, even to obtain the 
 Presidency, I will cheerfully and joyfully 
 sacrifice myself to maintain the principle. 
 If, therefore, you and my other friends who 
 have stood by me with such heroic firmness 
 at Charleston and Baltimore, shall be of the 
 opinion that the principle can be preserved, 
 and the unity and ascendency of the Demo 
 cratic party maintained, and the country 
 saved from the perils of northern abolition 
 ism and southern disunion, by withdrawing 
 my name and uniting with some other non 
 intervention, Union loving Democrat, I be 
 seech you to pursue that course. * * * 
 This letter is prompted by the same motives 
 which induced my dispatch four years ago, 
 withdrawing my name from the Cincinnati 
 convention." 
 
 His followers, evidently, did not believe 
 that a recurrence of the Cincinnati compro 
 mise was wise or possible. They were prob 
 ably right, for the extremists had driven 
 their work to such a latitude, that the man 
 did not live upon whom both factions could 
 agree. 
 
 In his letter of acceptance, Douglas once 
 more expressed his profound conviction that 
 peace and union could only be maintained 
 if the people of every territory were let alone 
 to govern themselves. "If the power and 
 the duty of federal interference is to be con 
 ceded, two hostile, sectional parties must 
 be the result, the one inflaming the passions 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 427 
 
 and ambitions of the north, the other of the 
 south, and each struggling to use the federal 
 power and authority for the aggrandizement 
 of its own section, at the expense of the 
 equal rights of the other, and in derogation 
 of those fundamental principles of self-gov 
 ernment which were firmly established in 
 this country by the American Revolution 
 as the basis of our entire Republican system. 
 "During the memorable period of our po 
 litical history, when the advocates of federal 
 intervention upon the subject of slavery in 
 the territories had well nigh precipitated 
 the country into a revolution/ the northern 
 interventionists demanding the Wilmot Pro 
 viso for the prohibition of slavery, and the 
 southern interventionists, then few in num 
 ber and without a single representative in 
 congress, insisting upon congressional legis 
 lation for the protection of slavery in oppo 
 sition to the wishes of the people in either 
 case, it will be remembered that it required 
 all the wisdom, power and influence of Clay 
 and a Webster and a Cass, supported by the 
 conservative and patriotic men of the Whig 
 and Democratic parties of that day, to de 
 vise and carry out a line of policy which 
 would restore peace to the country and sta 
 bility to the Union. The essential living 
 principle of that policy, as applied to the 
 legislation of 1850, was, and now is, non 
 intervention by congress with slavery in the 
 territories. The fair application of this just 
 
428 Five American Politicians 
 
 and equitable principle restored harmony 
 and fraternity to a distracted country. If 
 we now depart from that wise and just policy 
 which produced these happy results, and 
 permit the country to be again distracted; 
 if precipitated into revolution by a sectional 
 contest between pro-slavery and anti-slavery 
 interventionists, where shall we look for an 
 other Clay, another Webster, or another Cass 
 to pilot the ship of state over the breakers 
 into a haven of peace and safety? 
 
 "The Federal Union must be preserved. 
 The constitution must be maintained invio 
 late in all its parts. Every right guaranteed 
 by the constitution must be protected by 
 law, in all cases where legislation is necessary 
 to its engagement. The judicial authority 
 as provided in the constitution must be sus 
 tained, and its decisions implicitly obeyed 
 and faithfully executed. The laws must be 
 administered and the constituted authori 
 ties upheld, and all unlawful resistance to 
 these things must be put down with firmness, 
 impartiality and fidelity if we expect to 
 enjoy and transmit unimpaired to our pos 
 terity, that blessed inheritance which we 
 have received in trust from the patriots 
 and sages of the Revolution." 
 
 This letter is transcribed in full because 
 it portrays more clearly than any other 
 words can, the attitude of Douglas, in this 
 time of the nation s most fateful Presidential 
 election. The words are not those of a pan- 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 429 
 
 dering politician, nor those of a sage who 
 abhors slavery because it is wrong, but they 
 are the utterances of a conservative states 
 man who loves his country, and its estab 
 lished customs, and who draws his inspira 
 tion from the days of Clay and of Cass, the 
 days of conciliating Whigs and Democrats. 
 
 Is it possible that Douglas did not perceive 
 that these days were long past, never to 
 recur; that in place of Democrats who 
 were willing to compromise on 36 30 , he 
 was confronted by slavery Democrats who 
 knew neither latitude nor longitude ; that in 
 place of gentle, conciliating Whigs, he was 
 face to face with Republicans who ardently 
 believed that slavery was a sin? Is it possi 
 ble that a man of such political sagacity and 
 instinct could not discern that the isuue was 
 not his perversion of the Compromise of 
 1850, nor yet his mis judgment of the Dred 
 Scott decision, but was the question of sla 
 very? Not slavery as a political isuue, nor 
 yet as an economic expedient, or a constitu 
 tional compromise, but slavery as a moral 
 issue. But this was the centre of contro 
 versy. 
 
 The contest, then, was fourfold. 
 
 Only one of the parties represented the old 
 issues, in old-fashioned form. Bell and Ev 
 erett of the Constitutional Union Party, 
 were old-time Whigs, but little tinged with 
 know-nothingism. They lived in the past, 
 they moved in the atmosphere of Webster 
 
43 Five American Politicians 
 
 and of Clay. They were gentlemen of the 
 old school, grave, dignified, genteel, learned, 
 free from the rough boisterousness that had 
 invaded politics during the preceding decade. 
 Their statesmanship was founded on com 
 promise, and their jurisprudence upon arbi 
 tration. The rampant demonstrations of the 
 younger politicians they considered as dan 
 gerous. In sharp contrast to these conser 
 vatives stood the remaining three parties. 
 
 The Douglas Democrats indeed also laid 
 claim to the conservatism of their fathers. 
 But the let-alone policy of their great leader 
 differed radically from the conciliatory poli 
 cy of his- predecessors. What would Van 
 Buren or Jackson have said of Kansas-Ne 
 braska and Dred Scott? What would Thomas 
 Jefferson have said of Douglas s exposition of 
 the Declaration of Independence? It was a 
 far cry from Popular Sovereignty to Clay s 
 compromises. 
 
 And the slave-holding Democracy was 
 radicalism run mad. They interpreted Dred 
 Scott to be a universalizing of slavery in all 
 territories, and this interpretation they 
 made their party creed. Even the non-in 
 tervention platform adopted in Cincinnati 
 four years before was now too obsolete for 
 them. They thrust their advanced views 
 forward with an impudence and an obstinacy 
 that was the surest guarantee of their defeat. 
 
 Lastly the new Republican party met 
 squarely the advanced issue of the southern 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 43 * 
 
 Democrats. "Resolved," ran their plat 
 form, "that the new dogma that the consti 
 tution of its own force, carries slavery into 
 any or all of the territories of the United 
 States is a dangerous political heresy, at 
 variance with explicit provisison of that 
 instrument itself, with contemporaneous ex 
 position, and with legislative and judicial 
 precedent; is revolutionary in its tendencies 
 and subversive of the peace and harmony 
 of the country ; that the normal condition of 
 all the territory of the United States is that 
 of freedom; that, as our Republican fathers, 
 when they had abolished slavery in all our 
 national territory, and ordained that no 
 person should be deprived of life, liberty and 
 property without due process of law, it be 
 came our duty by legislation, whenever such 
 legislation is necessary, to maintain this pro 
 vision of the constitution against all at 
 tempts to violate it; and we deny the author 
 ity of congress, of a territorial legislature, or 
 of any individual, to give legal existence to 
 slavery in any territory of the United 
 States." 
 
 Thus the southern Democrats and the Re 
 publicans were at variance in their reading 
 of our constitutional history ; were at antip 
 odes in their constitutional law; and their 
 ideas of national sovereignty were direct 
 antitheses. Both were comparatively new 
 in national politics. But back of all this 
 was sentiment, an attachment for slavery, 
 
43 2 Five American Politicians 
 
 and an abhorrence of slavery; the virtue of 
 negro slavery extolled by one, the sinful- 
 ness of slavery preached by the other. 
 
 In spite of the novelty of these various 
 views, all of the parties equally claimed di 
 rect descent from "the fathers. Ortho 
 doxy is as cruel a tyrant in politics as in the 
 ology. No matter how madly they flaunted 
 the red flag of radicalism, all of the con 
 testants professed conservatism. And the 
 most conservative of all the candidates was 
 the one who was denounced as the most 
 dangerous radical. It was providential for 
 our Republic that Abraham Lincoln was 
 more conservative than his party. 
 
 And so also did all the candidates pledge 
 their personal allegiance to the Union. 
 They all charged each other with disunion 
 sentiments ; they all indignantly spurned the 
 charges and professed in speech and letter 
 their attachment for the Union. Bell 
 pledged that, if elected, all of his powers 
 would be devoted to "the maintenance of 
 the constitution, and the Union, against all 
 opposing influences and tendencies." Lin 
 coln said that a Republican victory should 
 establish "the inviolability of the constitu 
 tion and the perpetual union, harmony and 
 prosperity of all." Douglas never wavered 
 in the conviction that "the federal Union 
 must be preserved." And even Brecken- 
 ridge could write : " The constitution, and the 
 equality of the states, these are symbols of 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 433 
 
 everlasting union. Let them be the rally 
 ing cries of the people." Therefore each of 
 the four parties claimed to be national par 
 ties, not sectional factions. 
 
 But they all admitted that there was vir 
 tually one issue, slavery, and that issue from 
 its history, and its nature could be only sec 
 tional. The drift of the tide was sectional. 
 Mere words could not stem it, hollow pro 
 fessions could not divert it, subterfuge could 
 only delay it. Long before election day the 
 real nature of the issue was revealed. The 
 southern democrats spoke openly of seces 
 sion if the Republicans should win. They 
 likewise rebelled against the northern Demo 
 crats. They would rule, or they would ruin. 
 Destiny decreed that they should do neither. 
 
 Still more clearly did events, subsequent 
 to the election, tear away this mask of pro 
 fessed unionism from the faces of the candi 
 dates. Bell joined the slave-owners in their 
 war upon the Union, and Breckenridge be 
 came a leading actor on the stage of se 
 cession. It was a contest of sections; and 
 when the issues of war took the place of the 
 issues of the ballots, each candidate adhered 
 to his section. 
 
 Douglas threw himself into the campaign 
 with all his zeal and wonderful energy. 
 The odds were overwhelmingly against him. 
 The Buchanan Democrats fought him with 
 more rancor than the Republicans, and 
 with more effect, because their antagonism 
 
 28 
 
434 Five American Politicians 
 
 threw the border states into the Bell col 
 umns, and prevented his success in several 
 doubtful states of the north. There were at 
 tempts by the politicians at fusion between 
 the warring Democratic factions. In New 
 Jersey, New York and Rhode Island they 
 were successful, but in the other states all at 
 tempts to bring the Republican opposition 
 together were abortive. 
 
 It was ere long apparent that Douglas 
 was fighting a hopeless battle. But he 
 fought it bravely, fiercely, and patriotically. 
 There was no cringing in his attitude. He 
 defied the southern Democracy, and laid 
 bare their true intent to disrupt the Union, 
 as they had disrupted the party. In Balti 
 more he said : " It is my opinion that there 
 is a mature plan throughout the Southern 
 states to break up the union. I believe the 
 election of a Republican is to be the signal 
 for that attempt, and that the leaders of the 
 scheme desire the election of Lincoln so as to 
 have an excuse for disunion. I do not be 
 lieve that every Breckenridge man is a dis- 
 unionist, but I do believe that every dis- 
 unionist in America is a Breckenridge man. 7 
 He wore no mask, and the double-meaning 
 sentences of the vote-baiters found no utter 
 ances from his lips. When a written ques 
 tion was handed him in Norfolk, Virginia, 
 whether, if elected, he would maintain the 
 Union by force of arms, he boldly replied, 
 without a moment s hesitation: "I answer 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 435 
 
 emphatically that it is the duty of the Pres 
 ident of the United States and all others in 
 authority under him, to enforce the laws of 
 the United States passed by congress, and 
 as the courts expound them, and I, as in 
 duty bound by my oath of fidelity to the con 
 stitution, would do all in my power to aid 
 the government of the United States in main 
 taining the supremacy of the law against all 
 resistance to them, come from what quarter 
 it might. In other words, I think the Pres 
 ident, whoever he may be, should treat all 
 attempts to break up the Union by resist 
 ance to the laws as Old Hickory treated the 
 milliners in 1832." 
 
 As, in the days of his youth, he had drawn 
 his political inspiration from Andrew Jack 
 son, so now, in the last and severest struggle 
 of his eventful life, he remained true to the 
 principles of the great defender of national 
 ism and popular Democracy. In his polit 
 ical philosophy there was no room for the fal 
 lacy that the nation was subordinate to its 
 constituent parts. He saw no inconsistency 
 in the proposition that all of the states are 
 co-equal, but that the federal Union is su 
 preme. His vision was national, his concep 
 tion of the nation included sovereignty, su 
 premacy, perpetuity, and while he was will 
 ing to allow each state and territory to de 
 cide for itself the all-engrossing question of 
 slavery, he was unreservedly unwilling to 
 allow the caprice of such state or territory 
 
436 Five American Politicians 
 
 to rend the Union and destroy the nation. 
 This Union, sacred and supreme, he would 
 maintain with the force of arms, and if 
 necessary tie every rebellious state to the fed 
 eral government with a cordon of federal 
 soldiers. 
 
 The American people, also, believed in 
 these fundamental principles. But how 
 many of them foreknew that their full ex 
 pression would so soon put these axioms of 
 nationalism to the final test? For the elec 
 tion of Abraham Lincoln became the signal 
 for the disruption of the government, and 
 the trial of the cause, whether these United 
 States were a nation or a confederacy. 
 
 Lincoln received 180 of the 303 electoral 
 votes. They included all of the northern 
 electors, except three of New Jersey. The 
 south and the border states divided their 
 votes among the other three candidates. 
 Kentucky, Tennessee and Virginia gave 
 Bell their thirty-nine electors. The solid 
 south gave its seventy-two votes for Breck- 
 enridge. Of the popular vote of the south 
 ern states, Bell received 515,973; Brecken- 
 ridge 571,871, and Douglas only 163,525. 
 But the total popular vote cast for Douglas 
 was 1,365,979. Only the electoral votes of 
 Missouri, together with three votes from 
 New Jersey, a total of 12, were cast for Doug 
 las in the electoral college. But his popular 
 vote exceeded that of every other candidate 
 excepting only the victor. Whatever doubt 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 437 
 
 existed, of the sectional character of the cam 
 paign, now utterly vanished. These figures 
 reveal the geography of the land, as well as 
 its politics. Politics had become sectional. 
 For the first time in many years the north had 
 the government. And now upon the north de 
 volved the sacred duty of keeping it inviolate. 
 
 Douglas had been in poor health for some 
 years. The tremendous physical exertion 
 required by his contest with Jefferson Davis, 
 and the southern Democrats, in congress 
 and in the conventions of 1860, and the tre 
 mendous strain of the great campaign, left him 
 quite exhausted. And his spirit was utterly 
 broken by the crushing defeat. He was 
 proud, and he was ambitious. Failure was 
 humiliating to his pride and fatal to his am 
 bition. And, above all, the burden of the 
 nation lay heavily upon his heart. Tradi 
 tion records that on the seventh day of No 
 vember, when the ballots had been counted, 
 Douglas became a changed man. The cher 
 ished hope of his life had eluded him, his 
 body was racked with pain, his country was 
 in imminent peril. The party he had led 
 with such vigor and ambition was shattered. 
 His greatest rival was now his victor. 
 
 And to the victor, the vanquished gave 
 his loyal and unflinching support. During 
 those disheartening and disgraceful days 
 that intervened between election day and 
 the inauguration, Douglas was endeavoring 
 to consummate a peaceful settlement of the 
 
43 8 Five American Politicians 
 
 differences that separated the nationalists 
 from the sectionalists. But the fatuity of 
 man overruled the decrees of wisdom. He 
 soon realized that the military preparations 
 of the south meant war; that their bayonets 
 and sabers were sharpened for actual con 
 flict, and their guns and cannons were 
 mounted for a deadly mission. He was 
 quick to advise that blow be given for blow. 
 
 Even after the inauguration of Lincoln 
 there lingered a hope that peace might pre 
 vail. It was a vain hope. Compromise had 
 failed, popular sovereignty had failed, the 
 issue was squarely between nationalism and 
 sectionalism, and Douglas became a fervid 
 supporter of nationalism. 
 
 Lincoln was inaugurated on the fourth day 
 of March. Douglas stood near him and held 
 his beaver hat, as the new President read his 
 conservative first inaugural message. He 
 was seen to nod his head frequently in assent 
 to the calm words of caution, and to those 
 standing near him he said: "That s fair, 
 that s good," when Lincoln made some spec 
 ial point. In the evening, Douglas escorted 
 Mrs. Lincoln to the inaugural ball, thus re 
 buking the snobs of Washington society 
 who had openly declared they would not at 
 tend " the ball of the rail splitter." His sup 
 port of the President was sincere and whole 
 hearted. He had great faith in Lincoln, 
 and Lincoln showed no less faith in Douglas. 
 They had been ardent rivals all their lives. 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 439 
 
 Now they linked their wonderful talents in 
 the cause of patriotism, for the preservation 
 of the federal Union. 
 
 Soon after Lincoln s arrival in Washing 
 ton, Douglas requested an interview, and for 
 several hours these two great men counselled 
 together on the safety of their land. What 
 passed between them remains unrecorded, 
 but the imagination loves to linger over the 
 scene of the final conciliation of these great 
 rivals. 
 
 On the first day of May, Douglas returned 
 to Chicago. It was his last home-coming, 
 and it was his proudest. His neighbors 
 united in a welcome that has become historic. 
 Republicans and Democrats and Abolition 
 ists assembled at the depot in immense 
 throngs to meet him. They escorted him 
 through streets, crowded with the populace, 
 to the great wigwam where Lincoln had 
 been nominated/ Here he addressed a vast 
 assemblage. It was his last public utterance. 
 His words show forth the motives that 
 prompted him in his long career as states 
 man, and they reveal that underneath the 
 struggle for state rights, there had ever been 
 in his mind the consciousness of national 
 sovereignty. 
 
 "If war must come," he said, "if the bay 
 onet must be used to maintain the constitu 
 tion, I can say before God my conscience is 
 clean. I have struggled long for a peaceful 
 solution of the difficulty. I have not only 
 
440 Five American Politicians 
 
 tendered these states what was theirs of 
 right, but I have gone to the very extremes 
 of magnanimity. The return we receive is 
 war, armies marched upon our capital, ob 
 struction and dangers to our navigation, let 
 ters of marque to invite pirates to prey upon 
 our commerce, a concerted movement to blot 
 out the United States of America from the 
 map of the globe." 
 
 He sought for the cause of this warlike 
 procedure. "The slavery question is a 
 mere excuse. The election of Lincoln is a 
 mere pretext. The present secession move 
 ment is the result of an enormous conspiracy 
 formed more than a year since, by leaders of 
 the southern Confederacy. They use the 
 slavery question as a means to aid the ac 
 complishment of their ends. * * * 
 When the history of the two years from the 
 Lecompton charter down to the presidential 
 election shall be written, it will be shown that 
 the scheme was deliberately made to break 
 up this Union. They desired a northern 
 Republican to be elected by a purely north 
 ern vote, and thus assign this fact as a rea 
 son why the sections may not longer live 
 together. The conspiracy is now known. 
 Armies have been raised, war is levied to ac 
 complish it. There are only two sides to 
 the question. Every man must be for the 
 United States or against it. There can be 
 no neutrals in this war; only patriots, or 
 traitors. * * * We cannot close our 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 441 
 
 eyes to the sad and solemn fact that war 
 does exist. The government must be main 
 tained, its enemies overthrown, and the 
 more stupendous our preparations, the less 
 the bloodshed, and the shorter the struggle. 
 But we must remember certain restraints 
 on our action, even in time of war. We are 
 a Christian people, and the war must be 
 prosecuted in a manner recognized by 
 Christian nations. We must not invade 
 constitutional rights. The innocent must 
 not suffer, nor women and children be the 
 victims. Savages must not be let loose. 
 But while I sanction no war on the rights of 
 others, I will implore my countrymen not 
 to lay down their arms until our own rights 
 are recognized. The constitution and its 
 guarantees are our birthright, and I am 
 ready to enforce that inalienable right to 
 the last extent. 
 
 "We cannot recognize secession. Recog 
 nize it once, then have you not only dis 
 solved government, but have you destroyed 
 social order and upturned the foundations 
 of society. You have inaugurated anarchy 
 in its worst form, and will shortly experi 
 ence all the horrors of the French revolu 
 tion. Then we have a solemn duty to 
 maintain the government. The greater 
 our unanimity, the speedier the day of peace. 
 We have prejudices to overcome from the 
 few short months of a fierce party contest. 
 Yet these must be allayed. Let us lay 
 
442 Five American Politicians 
 
 aside all criminations and recriminations as 
 to the origin of these difficulties. When we 
 shall have again a country with a United 
 States flag floating over it, and respected on 
 every inch of American soil, it will then be 
 time enough to ask who and what brought 
 all this upon us. 
 
 "It is a sad task to discuss questions so 
 fearful as civil war, but sad as it is, bloody 
 and disastrous as I expect it will be, I ex 
 press it as my conviction before God, that it 
 is the duty of every American citizen to rally 
 around the flag of his country. " 
 
 Let these patriotic words be remembered 
 as the fitting peroration to the thousands of 
 speeches Douglas had spoken, during the 
 twenty-five years of his political activity. 
 They contain no sophistry, they are devoid of 
 demagogism, they are not half-truths magni 
 fied into deceptive greatness. All those un 
 conscious tricks of the politician have been 
 forgotten in the perils of the hour. They are 
 the frank utterances of a firm believer in 
 nationalism. And how tragic that they 
 should be uttered from the very platform 
 where his great rival received the nomination 
 for the presidency, the nomination that cost 
 Douglas the one great ambition of his life. 
 
 Within a few days of his homecoming, 
 Douglas was confined to his bed by an acute 
 malady. From this attack he did not re 
 cover. He died on the fourth day of June, 
 1861. He was only 48 years old. 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 443 
 
 It is useless to speculate what greater hon 
 ors he might have won, had he survived the 
 civil war. To the careful student of that 
 period of our history which his activities 
 spanned, it must be evident that Douglas 
 had fulfilled his mission to his country and 
 to his time. He had in his youth espoused 
 the principles of Andrew Jackson, in his 
 early manhood he adopted the compromise 
 of Clay, in his maturity he developed the 
 theory of popular sovereignty, and he died 
 uttering the nationalistic precepts of Abra 
 ham Lincoln. What- effect his impetuous 
 leadership might have had upon the north 
 ern Democrats we cannot surmise. It is 
 enough to know that Douglas carried to its 
 verge the doctrine of state rights ; that when 
 he saw the danger this ultimate form of his 
 theories would thrust upon his country, he 
 quickly recoiled, and fully, freely, without 
 stint or reservation he counseled nationalism 
 even through the bloody ordeal of battle. 
 
 Nor is it profitable to speculate whether 
 that terrible ordeal was necessary. In that 
 deep, eternal undercurrent of human prog 
 ress, upon whose bosom mankind is swept 
 onward to the realms of civilization and cul 
 ture, there are momentary eddies, and there 
 are maelstroms. Man may toy with its ma 
 jestic tide, but he cannot check it. Human 
 slavery in this free republic was an obstacle 
 to the maximum development of the lofty 
 ideals of a self-governing people. It had to 
 
444 Five American Politicians 
 
 be removed. Whether the removal was to 
 be accomplished by the orderly progress of 
 civilization, or through the violence of battle, 
 depended upon the citizens of the republic; 
 not upon the plan of human progress. That 
 portion of our citizenship who were particu 
 larly responsible for its existence, willed that 
 violence should accompany the purging of 
 the land; that the wrath of man, not his 
 love, his calm judgment, but his wrath, 
 should contribute to the glory of the world s 
 civilization. 
 
 To the peaceful solution of the question, 
 Douglas had devoted all the years of his ex 
 traordinary activity, all the wonderful en 
 dowments of his mind. However much he 
 may have been prompted by an ambition to 
 become President, we now know that he 
 above all desired the peaceful solution 
 of the question of slavery. He ardently 
 believed that popular sovereignty would 
 solve the problem; that the absolute 
 autonomy of every commonwealth in de 
 termining for itself the nature of its local 
 institutions would remove the question 
 from political discussion. But his solu 
 tion was not the solvent of the evil, be 
 cause he misjudged slavery. It was not 
 a local institution. It was a wrong, a 
 great wrong to humanity. And to right a 
 wrong you must tear it out. When Doug 
 las perceived the true nature of slavery, and 
 learned the extreme efforts its defenders 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 445 
 
 would make, he threw aside the fallacies of 
 his statesmanship and fervently urged a war 
 for the maintenance of the Union. The De 
 fender of State Rights became the De 
 fender of Nationalism. 
 
 Of his talents, history must write him the 
 preeminent debater, the Fox of the Ameri 
 can Senate. In the golden days of that de 
 liberative body, he stood among the favored 
 great. He was not tremendous, like Web 
 ster, nor emotionalflike Clay, nor learned, 
 like Benton, nor ^cultured, like Berrien, nor 
 logical, like Cass, nor rhetorical, like Sum- 
 ner, nor scholarly, like Everett, nor subtle, 
 like Seward, nor passionate, like Toombs. 
 But, more than any of these, he possessed the 
 readiness of intellect, the talent of forensic 
 strategy, the copious and forcible delivery, 
 the adroitness in evasion, the boldness in ag 
 gression, and the unfailing clearness in ex 
 pression that unite to make the most ef 
 fective debater. 
 
 Not less preeminent were his talents as a 
 politician. When we recall the perilous 
 route over which he journeyed, the treach 
 ery of party traitors to which he was sub 
 jected, the crushing defeats which ever 
 awaited his presidential aspirations, the 
 final disaster of party shipwreck, every 
 noted adversary, every conspicuous rival, 
 sunken in defeat and disgrace, when we re 
 call these circumstances and see Douglas 
 alone emerge from the tangled ruins, carry- 
 
446 Five American Politicians 
 
 ing with him one-half of the voters of his 
 party, then we are able to measure his ca 
 pacity for leadership and his genius for po 
 litical strategy. 
 
 Of his statesmanship history must write 
 that it was at least consistent. He prided 
 himself on this consistency. From the day 
 of his first entrance into Washington to the 
 day of his last utterance in the senate cham 
 ber, he was loyal to the principle of non-in 
 tervention. Other statesmen changed their 
 views, he remained fixed. The war of the 
 southern states he regarded as a fatal in 
 fringement upon the constitutional right of 
 non-intervention, and he counselled an im 
 mediate and relentless war on the part of the 
 north, that by compulsion, if not by persua 
 sion, the constitution might be saved. When 
 he became conscious that it was necessary 
 to choose between nationalism or sectional 
 ism, he never faltered. There can be no 
 doubt that his consistency was prompted by 
 absolute sincerity. The great error of his 
 statesmanship was his mis judgment of the 
 nature of slavery and the temper of its ad 
 vocates. 
 
 We of this generation can afford to con 
 done his faults, the sophistries and petty 
 demagogeries, that clung to him and im 
 peded his talents like barnacles impede the 
 progress of a ship, and let the dying message 
 to his sons be the living message of Stephen 
 A. Douglas to his nation. In his last mo- 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 447 
 
 ment of consciousness upon this earth, his 
 wife whispered to the dying statesman if he 
 had any message to send his two sons. His 
 eyes flashed with their wonted fire, and, rais 
 ing his voice for the last time, he said: "Tell 
 them to obey the laws and support the con 
 stitution of the United States. 7 
 
 ,A x> 
 %V 
 
RETURN TO the circulation desk ot any 
 University of California Library 
 
 or to the 
 
 NORTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 Bldg. 400, Richmond Field Station 
 University of California 
 Richmond, CA 94804-4698 
 
 ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS 
 
 2-month loans may be renewed by calling 
 (510)642-6753 
 
 1-year loans may be recharged by bringing 
 books to NRLF 
 
 Renewals and recharges may be made 4 
 days prior to due date, 
 
 DUE AS STAMPED BELOW 
 
 MAR 1 
 
YA 0-1507 
 
 U. C. BERKELEY LIBRARIES 
 
 . 
 
 ^MVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 W ^- "- I 
 
f ^mW*ij^L\