V THE SENATE OF THE UNITED STATES
DIFFICULTY OF FORMULATING A FEDERAL CONSTITUTION—THE CONVENTION OF 1787 SEES THE NECESSITY FOR A GENERAL GOVERNMENT WITH PLENARY POWERS—JEALOUSY OF THE SMALLER TOWARD THE LARGER STATES— BRITISH PARLIAMENT TAKEN, WITH QUALIFICATIONS, AS THE MODEL FOR THE HOUSES OF CONGRESS—EQUAL STATE REPRESENTATION IN THE SENATE— NON-EXISTENCE OF ANY METHOD FOR TERMINATING DEBATES IN THE SENATE— POTENCY OF THE PRESIDENT'S VETO—ABUSE OF THE CLOTURE IN THE HOUSE—PROCEDURE IN THE EVENT OF THE FAILURE OF THE PEOPLE TO ELECT A PRESIDENT OR A VICE-PRESIDENT—THE HAYES-TILDEN CONTEST—DANGER OF USURPATION OF POWER BY THE EXECUTIVE—THE SENATE AS A HIGH COURT OF IMPEACHMENT—TRIAL OF CHASE OF MARYLAND—TRIAL OF BELKNAP, SECRETARY OF WAR—TRIAL OF PRESIDENT JOHNSON.
It is a well-known fact in our political history that the convention which formulated our Federal Constitution greatly exceeded the powers delegated to its members by their respective States. It was the supreme moment, and upon the action of the historic assemblage depended events of far-reaching consequence. The Constitution of the United States is the enduring monument to the courage, the forecast, the wisdom of the members of the Convention of 1787. It was theirs to cut the Gordian knot, to break with the past, and, regardless of the jealousies and antagonisms of individual States, to establish the more perfect union, which has been declared by an eminent British statesman "the greatest work ever struck off at a given time from the brain and purpose of man."
The oft-quoted expression of Gladstone is, however, more rhetorical than accurate. The Constitution of the United States was not "struck off at a given time," but as declared by Bancroft, "the materials for its building were the gifts of the ages." In the words of Lieber, "What the ancients said of the avenging gods, that they were shod with wool, is true of great ideas in government. They approach slowly. Great truths dwell a long time with small minorities."
The period following the treaty of peace with Great Britain in 1783, which terminated the War of the Revolution, has been not inaptly designated "the critical period of American history." The Revolutionary Government, under which Washington had been chosen to the chief command of the colonial forces, the early battles fought, and the Declaration of Independence promulgated, had been superseded in 1781 by a Government created under the Articles of Confederation. The latter Government, while in a vital sense a mere rope of sand, was a long step in the right direction; the earnest of the more perfect union yet to follow.
Under the Government, more shadowy than real, thus created, the closing battles of the Revolution were fought, independence achieved, a treaty of peace concluded, and our recognition as a sovereign Republic obtained from our late antagonist and other European nations.
The Articles of Confederation, submitted for ratification by the Colonial Congress to the individual States while the country was yet in the throes of a doubtful struggle, fell far short of establishing what in even crude form could properly be designated a Government. The Confederation was wholly lacking in one essential of all Governments: the power to execute its own decrees. Its avowed purpose was to establish "a firm league of friendship," or, as the name indicates, a mere confederation of the colonies. The parties to this league were independent political communities, and by express terms, each State was to retain all rights, sovereignty, and jurisdiction not expressly delegated to the Confederation. In a Congress consisting of a single House were vested the powers thus grudgingly conferred. Its members were to be chosen by the States as such; upon every question the vote was given by States, each, regardless of population, having but a single vote. The revenues and the regulation of foreign commerce were to remain under the control of the respective States, and no provision was made for borrowing money for the necessary maintenance of the general Government. In a word, in so far as a Government at all, it was in the main one of independent States, and in no sense that with which we are familiar, a Government of the entire people. Whatever existed of executive power was in a committee of the Congress; the only provision for meeting the expenses of the late war and the interest upon the public debt was by requisition upon the States, with no shadow of power for its enforcement.
Under the conditions briefly mentioned, with the United States of America a byword among the nations, the now historic Convention of 1787 assembled in Philadelphia, in the room where eleven years earlier had been promulgated the Declaration of Independence. It consisted of fifty-five members; and without a dissenting voice, Washington, a delegate from Virginia, was elected its President. Not the least of his public services was now to be rendered in the work of safeguarding the fruits of successful revolution by a stable Government. Chief among the associates with whom he was daily in earnest, anxious counsel in the great assemblage, were men whose names live with his in history. If Franklin, Wilson, Sherman, King, Randolph, Rutledge, Mason, Pinckney, Hamilton, Madison, and their associates had rendered no public service other than as builders of the Constitution, that alone would entitle them to the measureless gratitude of all future generations of their countrymen.
When they were assembled, the startling fact was at once apparent that, under the Confederation, with its constituent States at times in almost open hostility to one another, the country was gradually drifting into a condition of anarchy.
It is our glory to-day, and will be that of countless on-coming generations, that the men of '87 were equal to the stupendous emergency. Regardless of instructions, expressed or implied, the master spirits of the Convention, looking beyond local prejudices and State environment, and appealing to time for vindication, with a ken that now seems more than human, discerned the safety, the well-being, the glory of their countrymen, bound up in a general Government of plenary powers, a Government "without a seam in its garment, to foreign nations."
To this end the proposition submitted by Paterson of New Jersey, in the early sittings of the Convention, for a mere enlargement of the powers of the Confederation, was decisively rejected. With the light that could be gleaned from the pages of Montesquieu, the suggestive lessons to be drawn from the fate of the short-lived republics whose wrecks lay along the pathway of history, and from the unwritten Constitution of the mother country, as their only guides, the leaders of the Convention were at once in the difficult role of constructive statesmen. The Herculean task to which with unwearied effort they now addressed themselves was that of "builders" of the Constitution; the establishers, for the ages, of the fundamental law for a free people.
One of the perils which early beset the Convention, and whose spectre haunted its deliberations till the close, was the hostility engendered by the dread and jealousy of the smaller toward the larger States. This fact will in some measure explain what in later years have been denominated the anomalies of the Constitution. To a correct understanding of the motives of the builders, and an appreciation of their marvellous accomplishment, it must not be forgotten that "The foundations of the Constitution were laid in compromise." The men of '87 had but recently emerged from the bloody conflict through which they had escaped the domination of kingly power. With the tyranny of George the Third yet burning in their memories, it is not to be wondered that the Revolutionary patriots of the less populous States were loath to surrender rights, deemed, by them, secure under their local governments; that they dreaded the establishment of what they apprehended might prove an overshadowing—possibly unlimited—central authority.
The creation of a general Government, with its three separate and measurably independent departments, happily concluded, with the delegated powers of each distinctly enumerated, the salient question as to the basis of representation in the Congress at once pressed for determination. Upon the question of provision for a chief executive, and his investment with the powers necessarily incident to the great office, there was after much debate a practical consensus of opinion. And practical unanimity in the end prevailed regarding the judicial department, with its great court without a prototype at its creation, and even yet without a counterpart in foreign Governments.
The rock upon which the Convention barely escaped early dissolution, was the basis of representation in the Congress created under the great co-ordinate legislative department. The model for our Senate and House of Representatives was unquestionably the British Parliament. This statement is to be taken with weighty qualifications; for hereditary or ecclesiastical representation, as in the House of Lords, is wholly unknown in our system of government. The significant resemblance is that of our Lower House to the British Commons. In these respective chambers, the people, as such, have representation.
The earnest, at times violent, contention of the smaller States, in our historic Convention, was for equal representation in both branches of the proposed national legislature. This was strenuously resisted by the larger States under the powerful leadership of Madison of Virginia, and Wilson of Pennsylvania. Their equally earnest, and by no means illogical contention was for popular representation in each House, as outlined in the Virginia plan which had been taken as the framework of the proposed Constitution. The opposing views appeared wholly irreconcilable, and for a time the parting of the ways seemed to have been reached. Threats of dissolution were not uncommon in the Chamber, and for many days the spirit of despair brooded over the Convention. A delegate from Maryland vehemently declared: "The Convention is on the verge of dissolution, scarcely held together by the strength of a hair." Well has it been said: "In even the contemplation of the fearful consequence of such a calamity, the imagination stands aghast."
At the crucial moment mentioned, Sherman and Ellsworth presented upon behalf of Connecticut the first and most far-reaching of the great compromises of the Constitution. The Connecticut plan was in brief to the effect that in fixing the ratio of representation there should be recognition alike of the federal and of the national feature in government, in a word, that in the Lower House the national, and in the upper the federal principle should have full recognition. This was a departure from the Virginia plan to the extent that it in effect proposed the establishment of a federal republic,—in the concrete, that the House should be composed of representatives chosen directly by the people from districts of equal population; while representation in the Senate should be that of the States, each, regardless of population, to have two members, to be chosen at stated periods by their respective legislatures.
After heated debate, this compromise was carried by a bare majority, and the provision for popular representation in the House, and equal State representation in the Senate, became engrafted upon our Federal Constitution. This feature, an eminent foreign writer has declared, "is the chief American contribution to the common treasures of political civilization." The eminent writer, De Tocqueville, has well said: "The principle of the independence of the States triumphed in the formation of the Senate, and that of the sovereignty of the nation in the composition of the House of Representatives."
The success of the Connecticut plan made possible that of other essential compromises which followed; and the result was, as the sublime consummation of wise deliberation and patriotic concession, the establishment of the Government of the United States.
It is the proud boast of the Briton, that "the British Constitution has no single date from which its duration is to be reckoned, and that the origin of English law is as undiscoverable as that of the Nile." Our Government, buttressed upon a written Constitution of enumerated and logically implied powers, had its historic beginning upon that masterful day, April 30, 1789, when Washington took solemn oath of office as our first President.
The Senate of the United States has been truly declared "the greatest deliberative body known to men." By Constitutional provision it consists of two members from each State, chosen by the Legislature thereof, for the term of six years. No person has the legal qualification for Senator "unless he shall have attained the age of thirty years, be an inhabitant of the State for which he is chosen, and have been nine years a citizen of the United States." No State, without its consent, can ever be deprived, even by Constitutional amendment, of its equal representation in the Senate. Nevada with a population of less than forty thousand has her equal voice with New York with a population exceeding seven million. This anomaly was occasioned by concession by the larger to the smaller States in the Convention of 1787, a concession which made possible the establishment of the federal Union.
One essential difference between the House of Representatives and the Senate is that to the latter "the previous question" is unknown; no method existing for terminating debate, other than by unanimous consent. Here, unlimited discussion and amendment can have their perfect work. Within the last three or four decades many fruitless attempts have been made to introduce a modified "previous question" or cloture, by which the Senate could be brought to an immediate vote. At first blush such change might seem desirable, but experience has demonstrated the wisdom of the method to which there has been such steady adherence. It secures time for consideration and full discussion upon every question. In the end the vote will be taken. Debate is rarely prolonged beyond reasonable limit. Not infrequently the public welfare is imperilled by too much, rather than too little, legislation. It was the belief of Jefferson that government should touch the citizen at the fewest possible points. The quaint lines of the old English poet have lost nothing of their significance:
"How small, of all that human hearts endure,
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure!"
The House of Representatives has in large degree ceased to be a deliberative body. Under the iron rule of the "previous question" measures of importance are hurriedly passed without the possibility of discussion or amendment. The rights of the minority are at times but as the dust in the balance.
Unlike the House of Lords, the Senate is in reality an important factor in legislation. As is well known in recent years, government in Great Britain is virtually that of the House of Commons, in large measure through a cabinet practically of its own appointment. The King is little more than a ceremonial figure-head, and the House of Lords is almost in a death struggle for existence. The end would probably come by serious attempt upon its part to thwart the popular will as expressed through the House of Commons. The power of Edward the Seventh is but a shadow of that exercised almost without let or hindrance by the predecessors of Queen Victoria. The veto power, so potent an instrumentality in the hands of the American President, is to all intents a dead letter in the mythical British Constitution. For a century and a half it has remained in practical abeyance. It is believed that its attempted exercise at this day would produce revolution; possibly endanger the existence of the throne.
By means of what is known as a suspension of the rules, under the operation of the "previous question," much important legislation is enacted in our House of Representatives, without the minority having the privilege of debate, or amendment, or even the necessary time to a full understanding of the pending measure. The constantly recurring "River and Harbor Bill," with its enormous sum total of appropriations, is a striking object lesson of the vicious character of such methods.
In the light of what has been suggested, the wisdom displayed in the establishment of the bicameral, or two-chamber system, in our legislative scheme, is strikingly apparent. At the time of its creation, it had no counterpart in any of the Governments of continental Europe. Its only prototype, in so far as it was such, was the British House of Lords as already indicated.
Save only in the right to originate revenue bills, the power of the Senate is concurrent with that of the House in all matters of legislation; and these are wisely subject to amendment by the Senate. The presiding officer of the Senate is the Vice-President of the United States, and in his absence a Senator chosen as President pro tempore.
In the event of a failure on the part of the people to elect a President or a Vice-President of the United States, through electors duly appointed at the stated time, the duty of such election devolves upon the House and the Senate acting independently of each other. The choice of President is limited to the three candidates who have received the highest number of votes in the several electoral colleges. The determination is by the House of Representatives, the vote being by States. In such event the vote of Nevada would again count equally with that of New York. In the contingency mentioned, of a failure to elect a Vice-President, the election devolves upon the Senate, each Senator having a personal vote; and the person chosen must by Constitutional requirement be one of the two receiving the highest number of electoral votes. In 1836, Mr. Van Buren of New York received a majority of the electoral votes for President; but no person receiving a majority for the second office, Colonel Richard M. Johnson, of Kentucky, one of the two persons eligible, was chosen by the Senate. No similar instance has occurred in our history.
In the Presidential election of 1800, and in that of 1824, the ultimate determination was by the House of Representatives. In the former, Jefferson and Burr each received seventy-three electoral votes, without specification as to whether intended for the first or second office. The protracted struggle which followed resulted in the choice of Jefferson for the higher office. This fortunate termination was in large measure through the influence of Alexander Hamilton, and was the initial step in the bitter personal strife which eventuated in his early death at the hands of Burr. In the light of events, we may well believe that not the least of the public services of Hamilton was his unselfish interposition at the critical moment mentioned. The possibility of similar complication again arising in the election of the President was soon thereafter obviated by the Twelfth Amendment to the Constitution.
Seldom in Presidential contests has there been such an array of great names presented as in that of 1824. The era of good feeling which characterized the administration of Monroe found sudden termination in the rival candidacy of two members of his cabinet, for the succession—Mr. Adams, Secretary of State, and Mr. Crawford, of the Treasury. The other aspirants were Clay, the brilliant Speaker of the House of Representatives, and Jackson, with laurels yet fresh from the battlefield of New Orleans. Mr. Clay receiving the smallest number of electoral votes, and no candidate the majority thereof, the selection again devolved upon the House, resulting eventually in the choice of John Quincy Adams.
In the two Presidential contests last mentioned, the Senate had no part in the final adjustment. An occasion, however, arose nearly a half-century later, involving the succession to the Presidency, in which the Senate, equally with the House, was an important factor in the final determination. The country has known few periods of profounder anxiety to thoughtful men, or of greater peril to stable government, than the feverish hours immediately succeeding the Presidential contest of 1876. The shadow cast by the Hayes-Tilden contest even yet, in a measure, lingers. As a Representative in Congress at the time, I was deeply impressed with the gravity of the situation. In the instances first mentioned it was the mere question of the failure of any candidate to receive a majority of the electoral votes. The framers of the Constitution had wisely provided for such contingency by action of the House in manner indicated. The far more serious question now confronting was, For whom had the disputed States of Florida and Louisiana cast their votes? The settlement of this question virtually determined which candidate should be inaugurated President. Conflicting certificates from the States named had been forwarded to the seat of government, and were in keeping of the officer designated by law as the custodian of the electoral returns from the several States. The contingency which had now arisen was one for which there was no provision. The sole function of the joint session of the Senate and the House was "to open all the certificates and count the votes." This was "the be all and end all" of its authority. Upon the arising of any question demanding a vote, or even deliberation, the members of the joint session could only return to their separate chambers. They could act only in their separate capacities. In a word, the perilous exigency presented was, the friends of one candidate having a majority in the Senate, and of the other in control of the House; conflicting certificates presented, upon which hinged the result, and the tension throughout the entire country assuming alarming proportions. Coupled with the question of peaceable succession to the great office was that of the durability of popular government. Tremendous issues, upon which depended unfathomable consequences, pressed for settlement; and no tribunal was in existence for their determination.
The sober second thought of those upon whom was then cast the responsibility asserted itself at the opportune moment, and a commission consisting of an equal number of Senators, Representatives, and Judges of the Great Court was created. This commission— extra-Constitutional, as was believed by many—decided as to the validity of the conflicting certificates, and in effect determined as to the Presidential succession.
The justification of the act creating the commission might well rest upon the fact that an overshadowing emergency had arisen, where necessity becomes the paramount law. "The pendulum of history swings in centuries," and a single term of the great office weighed little in view of the perils that surely awaited a failure to secure peaceful adjustment.
I may be pardoned for adding that in the retrospect of a life, no longer a short one, I have no regrets that my humble voice and vote were given for peaceable and lawful adjustment of a perilous controversy, that cast its dark shadow across our national pathway —such a one, as, please God, our country may never witness again.
Unquestionably the least satisfactory of the devices of our Federal Constitution is that for the election of President and Vice-President through the instrumentality of colleges of electors chosen by the several States. Upon this subject notes of warning have been many times sounded by eminent statesmen of the past. In view of the hazardous complications through which we have happily passed, and of those which may possibly beset our future pathway as a nation, it would indeed be the part of wisdom, if by Constitutional amendment a less complicated and cumbrous instrumentality could be devised for ascertaining and making effective the popular will in the selection of President and Vice-President of the United States.
One of the apprehensions of the framers of the Constitution was that of executive usurpation of functions lawfully pertaining to the co-ordinate department of the Government. This was measurably guarded against by the provision requiring appointment to high office to be by and with the advice and consent of the Senate. While the President by the exercise of the veto power possesses a negative upon legislation, the Senate by virtue of the provision quoted has an equally effective negative upon executive appointments to important office.
To the President is confided primarily the treaty-making power. Treaties are the law of the land, and their observance in spirit as well as letter touches the national honor. Upon this often depends the issue of peace or war. Before becoming effective their ratification by a two-thirds vote of the Senate is indispensable. From these and other safeguards strikingly appear what are known as "the checks and balances" of the Constitution.
An important function of the Senate yet to be mentioned is that of sitting as a high court of impeachment. The President, Vice-President, and other high officials are amenable to its jurisdiction. The initial step, however, in such procedure is by the House of Representatives, as the grand inquest of the nation, presenting articles of impeachment, the Senate possessing the sole power of trial. Six times only in our history has the Senate been resolved into a Court of Impeachment, and only twice—in the case of district judges—has there been a conviction. The earliest trial, more than a century ago, was that of a supreme justice, Chase of Maryland. Apart from the high official position of the accused, and the august tribunal before which he was arraigned, this trial is of historic interest from the fact that it involved the once famous Alien and Sedition Laws; that John Randolph was chief of the managers on the part of the House; Pinckney, Martin, and William Wirt of counsel for the defence; and Vice-President Aaron Burr, the presiding officer of the court.
The trial of Belknap, Secretary of War, is still within the memory of many. As a member of the House, I attended it from the beginning. It appearing from the evidence that Belknap had resigned his office before the presentation of the articles of impeachment, he was acquitted. The fate of General Belknap was indeed a sad one, that of a hitherto honorable career suddenly terminated under a cloud. Morally guiltless himself, his chivalric assumption of responsibility for the act of one near to him, and his patiently abiding the consequence, has invested with something of pathos, and even romance, the memory of his trial.
An impeachment that has left its deep impress upon history, and before which all others pale into insignificance, was that of President Johnson, charged by the House of Representatives with the commission of "high crimes and misdemeanors." He had been elected to the second place upon the ticket with Mr. Lincoln in 1864, and upon the death of the latter, succeeded to the Presidency. Radical differences with the majority in the Congress, upon questions vital and far-reaching, ultimately culminated in the presentation of articles of impeachment. Partisan feeling was at its height, and the excitement throughout the country intense. The trial was protracted for many weeks without jot or tittle of abatement in the public interest. The chief managers on the part of the House were Benjamin F. Butler and Thaddeus Stevens. The array of counsel for the accused included the names of Benjamin R. Curtis, Henry Stanberry, and William M. Evarts. The Senate, in its high character of a court, was presided over for the first and only time by the Chief Justice of the United States. The trial was conducted with marked decorum; every phase of questions touching the exercise of executive authority, or lawful discretion, was fully discussed, the very springs of legislative power, and its limitation under Constitutional government, were laid bare—all with an eloquence unparalleled save only in the wondrous efforts of Sheridan, Fox, and Burke in the historic impeachment of Warren Hastings before the British House of Lords. The spectacle presented was one that challenged the attention and wonder of the nations; that of the chief magistrate of a great republic at the bar of justice, calmly awaiting judgment without popular disturbance or attempted revolt, under the safeguards of law and its appointments. The highest test of the virtue of our system of representative government, and of the unfaltering devotion of our people to its prescribed methods, is to be found in the fact, that during the protracted trial the various departments proceeded with wonted regularity; the verdict of the Senate was acquiesced in without manifestation of hostility; partisan passion soon abated and the great impeachment peaceably relegated to the domain of history.
The House of Representatives has an official life of short duration. Its reorganization is biennial. The Senate is enduring. Always organized, it is the continuing body of our national legislature. Its members change, but the Senate continues the same now, as in the first hour of the Republic.
In his last great speech in the Senate, Mr. Webster said:
"It is fortunate that there is a Senate of the United States; a body not yet moved from its propriety, not lost to a full sense of its own dignity and its own high responsibilities, and a body to which the country looks with confidence for wise, moderate, patriotic, and healing counsels."
Upon the first assembling of the Senate in its present magnificent chamber nearly half a century ago, the Vice-President closed his eloquent dedicatory address with the words:
"Though these marble walls moulder into ruins, the Senate in another age may bear into a new and larger chamber the Constitution vigorous and inviolate, and the last generation of posterity shall witness the deliberations of the representatives of American States still united, prosperous, and free."
VI A TRIBUTE TO LINCOLN
THE WRITER'S SPEECH AT THE LINCOLN CENTENNIAL CELEBRATION, 1909 —PATRIOTIC CHARACTER OF THE MEETING—LEADING HISTORICAL EVENTS BETWEEN 1809 AND 1909—BIRTH OF LINCOLN—TERRITORIAL ORGANIZATION OF ILLINOIS—BIRTH OF DARWIN AND GLADSTONE—CAREER OF NAPOLEON—WAR OF 1812—THE SLAVERY QUESTION—SEIZURE AND SURRENDER OF MASON AND SLIDELL—EMANCIPATION OF SLAVES.
February 12, 1909, will long be remembered as the day of the celebration of the hundredth anniversary of the birth of Abraham Lincoln. For on that day was the culmination of a celebration which, in various parts of the country, had begun at least a week before. Rarely has there been an occasion of so much decoration, so many addresses, or so much patriotism. The largest celebration occurred in New York City, but that of Chicago, if not so large, was at least as interesting and impressive, for in it and surrounding parts of Illinois some of the most memorable events in the life of Lincoln took place. Yet these manifestations were not a whit more patriotic than those of many small towns and villages.
Every hamlet, every town, and every city of the United States seemed to be imbued with a desire to do honor to the memory of the man Lincoln. Every newspaper and every magazine of whatever name or order was filled with pictures, anecdotes, and sketches of the life of "Honest Abe." Books galore were published emphasizing every phase of his life, character, work, and influence; and they sold well.
My contribution to this occasion was the following speech delivered at Bloomington, Illinois, February 12:
"We have assembled to commemorate one of the epoch-making events in history. In the humblest of homes in the wilds of a new and sparsely settled State, Abraham Lincoln was born one hundred years ago, this day.
"The twelfth day of February, like the twenty-second day of the same month, is one of the sacred days in the American calendar. It is well that this day be set apart from ordinary uses, the headlong rush in the crowded mart suspended, the voice of fierce contention in legislative halls be hushed, and that the American people—whether at home, in foreign lands, or upon the deep—honor themselves by honoring the memory of the man of whose birth this day is the first centennial.
"This coming together is no idle ceremony, no unmeaning observance. To this man, more than to any other, are we indebted for the supreme fact that ninety millions of people are at this hour, in the loftiest sense of the expression, fellow-citizens of a common country. Some of us, through the mists of half a century, distinctly recall the earnest tones in which Mr. Lincoln in public speech uttered the words, 'My fellow-citizens.' Truly the magical words 'fellow-citizens' never fail to touch a responsive chord in the patriotic heart. Was it the gifted Prentiss who at a critical moment of our history exclaimed:
"'For whether upon the Sabine or the St. John's; standing in the shadow of Bunker Hill or amid the ruins of Jamestown; near the great northern lakes or within the sound of the Father of Waters flowing unvexed to the sea; in the crowded mart of the great metropolis or upon the western verge of the continent, where the restless tide of emigration is stayed only by the ocean—everywhere upon this broad domain, thank God, I can still say "fellow-citizens"!'
"Let us pause for a moment and briefly note some of the marvellous results wrought out by the toil, strife, and sacrifice of the century whose close we commemorate. The Year of Our Lord 1809 was one of large place in history. The author of the Declaration of Independence was upon the eve of final retirement from public place, and the Presidential term of James Madison just beginning, when in a log cabin near the western verge of civilization the eyes of Abraham Lincoln first opened upon the world. The vast area stretching from the Rocky Mountains to the Pacific Ocean was under the dominion of Spain. Two decades only had passed since the establishment of the United States Government under the Federal Constitution, and the inauguration of Washington as its first President. Lewis and Clark had but recently returned from the now historic expedition to the Columbia and the Oregon,—an expedition fraught with momentous consequences to the oncoming generations of the Republic. Only five years had passed since President Jefferson had purchased, for fifteen millions of dollars from Napoleon Bonaparte, the Louisiana country, extending from the Gulf of Mexico to the frozen lakes, out of which were to be carved sixteen magnificent States to become enduring parts of the American Republic. From the early Colonial settlements that fringed the Atlantic, a tide of hardy emigration was setting in to the westward, and, regardless of privation or danger, laying the sure foundation of future commonwealths. Four States only had been admitted into the Federal Union, and the population of the entire country was less than that of the State of New York to-day. This same year witnessed the first organization of Illinois into a distinct political community and its creation, by act of Congress, as the Territory of Illinois, with a white population less than one-twentieth of that of this good county to-day. The United States having barely escaped a war with France,—our ally in securing our independence,—was earnestly struggling for distinct place among the nations.
"No less significant, and fraught with deep consequences, were events occurring in the Old Worlds. The year 1809 witnessed the birth of Darwin and Gladstone. The despotism of the Dark Ages still brooded over Continental Europe, and whatever savored of popular public rule—even in its mildest form—was yet in the distant future. Alexander the First was on the throne of Russia,— and her millions of serfs were oppressed as by the iron hand of the Caesars. The splendid German Empire of to-day had no place on the map of the world; its present powerful constituencies were antagonistic provinces and warring independent cities. Napoleon Bonaparte—'calling Fate into the lists'—by a succession of victories unparalleled in history had overturned thrones, compelled kings upon bended knee to sue for peace, and substituted those of his own household for dynasties that reached back the entire length of human history. With his star still in the ascendant, disturbed by no forecast of the horrid nightmare of the retreat from Moscow, 'with legions scattered by the artillery of the snows and the cavalry of the winds,' tortured by no dream of Leipsic, of Elba, of Waterloo, of St. Helena, he was still the 'man of destiny,' —relentlessly pursuing the ignis fatuus of universal empire.
"The year that witnessed the birth of Abraham Lincoln witnessed the gathering of the disturbing elements that were to precipitate the second war with the mother country. England—with George the Third still upon the throne—by insulting and cruel search of American vessels upon the high seas, was rendering inevitable the declaration of war by Congress,—a war of humiliation upon our part by the disgraceful surrender of Hull at Detroit and the wanton burning of our Capitol, but crowned with honor by the naval victories of Lawrence, Decatur, and Perry, and eventually terminated by the capture of the British army at New Orleans. As an object lesson of the marvels of the closing century, an event of such momentous consequence to the world as the formulation of the Treaty of Ghent, by which peace was restored between England and America, would to-day be known at every fireside a few hours after its occurrence. And yet, within the now closing century, the battle of New Orleans was fought twenty-three days after the Treaty of Ghent, coming by slow-sailing vessels across the Atlantic, had received the signature of our commissioners; all unsettled accounts squared eternally between America and Great Britain; and the United States, by valor no less than by diplomacy, exalted to honored and enduring place among the nations.
"The fifty-six years that compassed the life of Abraham Lincoln were years of transcendent significance to our country. While he was yet in his rude cradle the African slave trade had just terminated by constitutional inhibition. While Lincoln was still in attendance upon the old field school, Henry Clay—yet to be known as the 'great pacificator'—was pressing the admission of Missouri into the Union under the first compromise upon the question of slavery since the adoption of the Federal Constitution. From the establishment of the Government the question of human slavery was the one perilous question,—the one constant menace to national unity, until its final extinction amid the flames of war. Marvellous to man are the purposes of the Almighty. What seer could have foretold that, from this humblest of homes upon the frontier, was to spring the man who at the crucial moment should cut the Gordian knot, liberate a race, and give to the ages enlarged and grander conception of the deathless principles of the declaration of human rights?
"'Often do the spirits of great events
Stride on before the events,
And in to-day already walks to-morrow.'
"The first inauguration of President Lincoln noted the hour of breaking with the past. It was a period of gloom, when the very foundations were shaken, when no man could foretell the happening of the morrow, when strong men trembled at the possibility of the destruction of our Government.
"Pause a moment, and recall the man who, under the conditions mentioned, on the fourth of March, 1861, entered upon the duties of the great office to which he had been chosen. He came from the common walks of life—from what, in other countries, would be called the great middle class. His early home was one of the humblest, where he was a stranger to the luxuries and to many of the ordinary comforts of life. His opportunities for education were only such as were common in the remote habitations of our Western country one century ago.
"Under such conditions, began a career which in grandeur and achievement has but a single counterpart in our history. And what a splendid commentary this upon our free institutions,—upon the sublime underlying principle of popular government! How inspiring to the youth of high aims every incident of the pathway that led from the frontier cabin to the Executive Mansion,—from the humblest position to the most exalted yet attained by man! In no other country than ours could such attainment have been possible for the boy whose hands were inured to toil, whose bread was eaten under the hard conditions that poverty imposes, whose only heritage was brain, integrity, lofty ambition, and indomitable purpose. Let it never be forgotten that the man of whom I speak possessed an integrity that could know no temptation, a purity of life that was never questioned, a patriotism that no sectional lines could limit, and a fixedness of purpose that knew no shadow of turning.
"The decade extending from our first treaty of peace with Great Britain to the inauguration of Washington has been truly denominated the critical period of our history. The eloquence of Adams and Henry had precipitated revolution; the unfaltering courage of Washington and his comrades had secured independence; but the more difficult task of garnering up the fruits of victory by stable government was yet to be achieved. The hour for the constructive statesman had arrived, and James Madison and his associates, equal to the great emergency, formulated the Federal Constitution.
"No less critical was the period that bounded the active life of the man whose memory we honor to-day. One perilous question to national unity which for nearly three-quarters of a century had been the subject of repeated compromise by patriotic statesmen; the apple of discord producing sectional antagonism, whose shadow had darkened our national pathway from the beginning,—was now for weal or woe to find determination. Angry debate in the Senate and upon the forum was now hushed, and the supreme question that took hold of national life was to find enduring arbitrament in the dread tribunal of war.
"It was well that in such an hour, with such tremendous issues in the balance, a steady hand was at the helm; that a conservative statesman—one whose mission was to save, not to destroy—was in the high place of responsibility and power. It booted little then that he was untaught of schools, unskilled in the ways of courts, but it was of supreme moment that he could touch responsive chords in the great American heart, all-important that his very soul yearned for the preservation of the Government established through the toil and sacrifice of the generation that had gone. How hopeless the Republic in that dark hour, had its destiny hung upon the statecraft of Talleyrand, the eloquence of Mirabeau, or the genius of Napoleon! It was fortunate indeed that the ark of our covenant was then borne by the plain, brave man of conciliatory spirit and kind words, whose heart, as Emerson has said, 'was as large as the world, but nowhere had room for the memory of a wrong.'
"Nobler words have never fallen from human lips than the closing sentences of his first inaugural uttered on one of the pivotal days of human history, immediately after taking the oath to preserve, protect, and defend his country:
"'I am loath to close. We are not enemies, but friends. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot's grave to every heart and hearthstone of this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union when touched as they will be by the better angels of our nature.'
"In the light of what we now know so well, nothing is hazarded in saying that the death of no man has been to his country so irreparable a loss, or one so grievous to be borne, as that of Abraham Lincoln. When Washington died his work was done, his life well rounded out. Save one, the years allotted had been passed. Not so with Lincoln. To him a grander task was yet in waiting, one no other could so well perform. The assassin's pistol proved the veritable Pandora's box from which sprung evils untold,—whose consequences have never been measured.—to one-third of the States of our Union. But for his untimely death how the current of history might have been changed,—and many a sad chapter remained unwritten! How earnestly he desired a restored Union, and that the blessings of peace and of concord should be the common heritage of every section, is known to all.
"When in the loom of time have such words been heard above the din of fierce conflict as his sublime utterances but a brief time before his tragic death—
"'With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve a lasting peace among ourselves, and with all nations.'
"No fitter occasion than this can ever arise in which to refer to two historical events that at crucial moments tested to the utmost the safe and far-seeing statesmanship of President Lincoln. The first was the seizure upon the high seas of Mason and Slidell, the accredited representatives from the Southern Confederacy to the courts of England and France, respectively. The seizure was in November, 1861, by Captain Wilkes of our navy; and the envoys named were taken by him from the Trent, a mail-carrying steamer of the British Government. The act of Captain Wilkes met with enthusiastic commendation throughout the entire country; he was voted the thanks of Congress, and his act publicly approved by the Secretary of the Navy.
"The demand by the British government for reparation upon the part of the United States was prompt and explicit. The perils that then environed us were such as rarely shadow the pathway of nations. Save Russia alone, our Government had no friend among the crowned heads of Europe. Menaced by the peril of the recognition of the Southern Confederacy by England and France, with the very stars apparently warring against us in their courses, the position of the President was in the last degree trying. To surrender the Confederate envoys was in a measure humiliating and in opposition to the popular impulse; their retention, the signal for the probable recognition of the Southern Confederacy by the European powers, and the certain and immediate declaration of war by England.
"The good genius of President Lincoln—rather his wise, just, far-seeing statesmanship—stood him well in hand at the critical moment. Had a rash and impulsive man then held the executive office, what a sea of troubles might have overwhelmed us! How the entire current of our history might have been changed!
"The calm, wise President, in his council chamber, aided by his closest official adviser, Secretary Seward, discerned clearly the path of national safety and of honor. None the less was the act of the President one of justice, one that will abide the sure test of time. Upon the real ground that the seizure of the envoys was in violation of the Law of Nations, they were eventually surrendered, and war with England, as well as the immediate danger of recognition of the Confederacy, averted. Let it not be forgotten that this very act of President Lincoln was a triumphant vindication of our Government in its second war with Great Britain—a war waged as a protest on our part against British seizure and impressment of American citizens upon the high seas.
"The other incident, to which I briefly refer, was the proclamation of emancipation. As a war measure of stupendous significance in the national defence, as well as of justice to the enslaved, such proclamation, immediate in time and radical in terms, had to greater or less degree been urged upon the President from the outbreak of the Rebellion. That slavery was to perish amid the great upheaval became in time the solemn conviction of all thoughtful men. Meanwhile there were divided counsels among the earnest supporters of the President as to the time the masterful act 'that could know no backward steps' should be taken. Unmoved amid divided counsels, and at times fierce dissensions, the calm, far-seeing executive, upon whom was cast the tremendous responsibility, patiently bided his time. Events that are now the masterful theme of history crowded in rapid succession, the opportune moment arrived, the hour struck, the proclamation that has no counterpart fell upon the ears of the startled world, and, as by the interposition of a mightier hand, a race was lifted out of the depths of bondage.
"To the one man at the helm it seemed to have been given to know the day and the hour. At the crucial moment, in one of the exalted days of human history,
"'He sounded forth the trumpet that has never called retreat.'
"The men who knew Abraham Lincoln, who saw him face to face, who heard his voice in public assemblage, have with few exceptions passed to the grave. Another generation is upon the busy stage. The book has forever closed upon the dreadful pageant of civil strife. Sectional animosities, thank God, belong now only to the past. The mantle of Peace is over our entire land, and prosperity within our borders.
"'The war-drum throbs no longer,
And the battle flags are furled
In the parliament of men,
The federation of the world.'
"Through the instrumentality, in no small measure, of the man whose memory we now honor, the Government established by our fathers, untouched by the finger of Time, has descended to us. The responsibility of its preservation and transmission rests upon the successive generations as they come and go. To-day, at this auspicious hour sacred to the memory of Lincoln, let us, his countrymen, inspired by the sublime lessons of his wondrous life, and grateful to God for all He has vouchsafed to our fathers and to us in the past, take courage and turn our faces resolutely, hopefully, trustingly to the future. I know of no words more fitting with which to close this humble tribute to the memory of Abraham Lincoln, than those inscribed upon the monument of Moliere:
"'Nothing was wanting to his glory; he was wanting to
ours.'"
VII STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS
DOUGLAS'S HARDSHIPS IN YOUTH—HE IS ADMITTED TO THE BAR—JACKSON'S TRIUMPH OVER ADAMS IN 1828—DOUGLAS ENTERS THE ARENA OF DEBATE AT THE AGE OF 22—BECOMES ATTORNEY-GENERAL—CHOSEN TO THE TENTH GENERAL ASSEMBLY OF ILLINOIS—BECOMES SECRETARY OF STATE IN ILLINOIS —DEFENDS JACKSON'S DECLARATION OF MARTIAL LAW AT NEW ORLEANS— TAKES PART IN THE OREGON BOUNDARY DEBATE—ADVOCATES THE ANNEXATION OF TEXAS—IS ELECTED TO THE SENATE—ADVOCATES THE ADMISSION OF CALIFORNIA AS A FREE STATE—HE PROCURES A LAND GRANT TO THE ILLINOIS CENTRAL RAILROAD COMPANY—IN DEBATING THE KANSAS-NEBRASKA BILL HE CONTENDS FOR POPULAR SOVEREIGNTY—ORIGIN OF THE REPUBLICAN PARTY —DOUGLAS LOSES THE FRIENDSHIP OF THE SOUTH—DEBATES BETWEEN DOUGLAS AND LINCOLN—LINCOLN'S EARLY HISTORY—DOUGLAS'S REASONS FOR ADVOCATING POPULAR SOVEREIGNTY—LINCOLN'S REPLY—THE SLAVERY QUESTION —THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY RENT ASUNDER—CONSEQUENT FAILURE OF DOUGLAS TO WIN THE PRESIDENCY—HIS DEATH.
History has been defined, "the sum of the biographies of a few strong men." Much that is of profound and abiding interest in American history during the two decades immediately preceding our Civil War is bound up in the biography of the strong man of whom I write. Chief among the actors, his place was near the middle of the stage during that eventful and epoch-making period.
Stephen A. Douglas was born in Brandon, Vermont, April 23, 1813, and died in Chicago, Illinois, June 3, 1861. Between the dates given lie the years that up a crowded, eventful life. Left penniless by the death of his father, he was at a tender age dependent upon his own exertions for maintenance and education. At the age of fifteen he apprenticed himself to a cabinet-maker in the town of Middlebury in his native State. Naturally of delicate organization, he was unable long to endure the physical strain of this calling, and at the close of two years' service he returned to his early home. Entering an academy in Brandon, he there for a time pursued with reasonable diligence the studies preparatory to a higher course. Supplementing the education thus acquired, by a brief course of study in an academy at Canandaigua, New York, at the age of twenty he turned his footsteps westward.
One of his biographers says:
"It is doubtful if among all the thousands who in those early days were constantly faring westward from New England, Virginia, and the Carolinas, there ever was a youth more resolutely and boldly addressed to opportunity than he. Penniless, broken in health, almost diminutive in physical stature, and unknown, he made his way successively to Cincinnati, Louisville, and St. Louis, in search of employment, literally of bread."
By a sudden turn in fortune's wheel his lot was cast in Central Illinois, where his first vocation was that of teacher of a village school. Yet later—after laborious application—admitted to the bar, he courageously entered upon his marvellous career.
His home was Jacksonville, and to the hardy pioneers of Morgan and neighboring counties, it was soon revealed that notwithstanding his slight stature and boyish appearance the youthful Douglas was at once to be taken fully into the account. Self-reliant to the very verge, he unhesitatingly entered the arena of active professional and political strife with foemen worthy the steel of veterans at the bar, and upon the hustings.
The issues were sharply drawn between the two political parties then struggling for ascendancy, and Central Illinois was the home of as brilliant an array of gifted leaders as the Whig party at any time in its palmiest days had known. Hardin, Stuart, Browning, Logan, Baker, Lincoln were just then upon the threshold of careers that have given their names honored and enduring place upon the pages of our history. Into the safe keeping of the leaders just named, were entrusted in large degree the advocacy of the principles of the now historic party, and the political fortunes of its great chieftain, Henry Clay.
As is well known, the principal antagonist of the renowned Whig chieftain was Andrew Jackson. Earlier in their political careers, both had been earnest supporters of the administration of President Monroe, but at its close the leaders last named, with Adams and Crawford, were aspirants to the great office. No candidate receiving a majority of the electoral votes and the selection by Constitutional requirement devolving upon the House of Representatives, Mr. Adams was eventually chosen. His election over his principal competitor, General Jackson, was largely through the influence of Mr. Clay; and the subsequent acceptance by the latter of the office of Secretary of State gave rise to the unfounded but vehement cry of "Bargain and corruption," which followed the Kentucky statesman through two presidential struggles of later periods, and died wholly away only when the clods had fallen upon his grave.
Triumphant in his candidacy over Adams in 1828, President Jackson, four years later, encountered as his formidable competitor his colossal antagonist—the one man for whom he had no forgiveness, even when the shadows were gathering about his own couch.
"The early and better days of the Republic" is by no means an unusual expression in the political literature of our day. Possibly all the generations of men have realized the significance of the words of the great bard:
"Past and to come seem best;
Things present worst.
We are time's subjects."
And yet, barring the closing months of the administration of the elder Adams, this country has known no period of more intense party passion, or of more deadly feuds among political leaders, than was manifested during the presidential contest of 1832. The Whig party, with Henry Clay as its candidate and its idol, was for the first time in the field. Catching something of the spirit of its imperious leader, its campaign was recklessly aggressive. The scabbard was thrown away, and all the lines of retreat cut off from the beginning. No act of the party in power escaped the lime-light; no delinquency, real or imaginary, of Jackson—its candidate for re-election— but was ruthlessly drawn into the open day. Even the domestic hearthstone was invaded and antagonisms engendered that knew no surcease until the last of the chief participants in the eventful struggle had descended to the tomb.
The defeat of Clay but intensified his hostility toward his successful rival, and with a following that in personal devotion to its leader has scarcely known a parallel, he was at once the peerless front of a powerful opposition to the Jackson administration.
Such were the existing political conditions throughout the country when Stephen A. Douglas, at the age of twenty-two, first entered the arena of debate. It would not be strange if such environment left its deep impress, and measurably gave direction to his political career. The period of probation and training so essential to ordinary men was unneeded by him. Fully equipped—and with a self-confidence that has rarely had a counterpart—he was from the beginning the earnest defender of the salient measures of the Democratic administration, and the aggressive champion of President Jackson. Absolutely fearless, he took no reckoning of the opposing forces, and regardless of the prowess or ripe experience of adversaries, he at all times, in and out of season, gladly welcomed the encounter. To this end, he did not await opportunities, but eagerly sought them.
His first contest for public office was with John J. Hardin, by no means the least gifted of the brilliant Whig leaders already mentioned. Defeated by Douglas in his candidacy for re-election to the office of Attorney General, Colonel Hardin at a later day achieved distinction as a Representative in Congress, and at the early age of thirty-seven fell while gallantly leading his regiment upon the bloody field of Buena Vista. In the catalogue of men worthy of remembrance, there is to be found the name of no braver, manlier man, than that of John J. Hardin.
With well-earned laurels as public prosecutor, Douglas resigned, after two years' incumbency of that office, to accept that of Representative in the State Legislature. The Tenth General Assembly —to which he was chosen—was the most notable in Illinois history. Upon the roll of members of the House—in the old Capitol at Vandalia —are names inseparably associated with the history of the State and the nation. From its list were yet to be chosen two Governors of the commonwealth, one member of the Cabinet, three Justices of the Supreme Court of the State, eight Representatives in Congress, six Senators, and one President of the United States. That would indeed be a notable assemblage of law-makers in any country or time, that included in its membership McClernand, Edwards, Ewing, Semple, Logan, Hardin, Browning, Shields, Baker, Stuart, Douglas, and Lincoln.
In this assembly, Douglas encountered in impassioned debate, possibly for the first time, two men against whom in succession he was soon to be opposed upon the hustings as candidate for Congress; and later as an aspirant to yet more exalted stations, another, with whose name—now "given to the ages"—his own is linked inseparably for all time.
The most brilliant and exciting contest for the national House of Representatives the State has known—excepting possibly that of Cook and McLean a decade and a half earlier—was that of 1838 between John T. Stuart and Stephen A. Douglas. They were the recognized champions of their respective parties. The district embraced two-thirds of the area of the State, extending from the counties immediately south of Sangamon and Morgan, northward to Lake Michigan and the Wisconsin line. Together on horseback, often across unbridged streams, and through pathless forest and prairie, they journeyed, holding joint debates in all the county seats of the district—including the then villages of Jacksonville, Springfield, Peoria, Pekin, Bloomington, Quincy, Joliet, Galena, and Chicago. That the candidates were well matched in ability and eloquence readily appears from the fact that after an active canvass of several months, Major Stuart was elected by a majority of but eight votes. By re-elections he served six years in the House of Representatives and was one of its ablest and most valuable members. In Congress, he was the political friend and associate of Crittenden, Winthrop, Clay, and Webster. Major Stuart lives in my memory as a splendid type of the Whig statesman of the Golden Age. Courteous and kindly, he was at all times a Kentucky gentleman of the old school if ever one trod this blessed earth.
Returning to the bar after his defeat for Congress, Douglas was, in quick succession, Secretary of State by appointment of the Governor, and Judge of the Circuit and Supreme Courts by election by the Legislature. The courts he held as nisi prius judge were in the Quincy circuit, and the last-named city for a time his home. His associates upon the Supreme Bench were Justices Treat, Caton, Ford, Wilson, Scates, and Lockwood. His opinions, twenty-one in number, will be found in Scammon's Reports. There was little in any of the causes submitted to test fully his capacity as lawyer or logician. Enough, however, appears from his clear and concise statements and arguments to justify the belief that had his life been unreservedly given to the profession of the law, his talents concentrated upon the mastery of its eternal principles, he would in the end have been amply rewarded "by that mistress who is at the same time so jealous and so just." This, however, was not to be, and to a field more alluring his footsteps were now turned. Abandoning the bench to men less ambitious, he was soon embarked upon the uncertain and delusive sea of politics.
His unsuccessful opponent for Congress in 1842 was the Hon. Orville H. Browning, with whom, in the State Legislature, he had measured swords over a partisan resolution sustaining the financial policy of President Jackson. "The whirligig of time brings in his revenges," and it so fell out that near two decades later it was the fortune of Mr. Browning to occupy a seat in the Senate as the successor of Douglas—"touched by the finger of death." At a later day, Mr. Browning, as a member of the Cabinet of President Johnson, acquitted himself with honor in the discharge of the exacting duties of Secretary of the Interior. So long as men of high aims, patriotic hearts, and noble achievements are held in grateful remembrance, his name will have honored place in our country's annals.
The career upon which Douglas now entered was the one for which he was pre-eminently fitted, and to which he had aspired from the beginning. It was a career in which national fame was to be achieved, and—by re-elections to the House, and later to the Senate —to continue without interruption to the last hour of his life. He took his seat in the House of Representatives, December 5, 1843, and among his colleagues were Semple and Breese of the Senate, and Hardin, McClernand, Ficklin, and Wentworth of the House. Mr. Stephens of Georgia,—with whom it was my good fortune to serve in the forty-fourth and forty-sixth Congresses—told me that he entered the House the same day with Douglas, and that he distinctly recalled the delicate and youthful appearance of the latter as he advanced to the Speaker's desk to receive the oath of office. Conspicuous among the leaders of the House in the twenty-eighth Congress were Hamilton Fish, Washington Hunt, Henry A. Wise, Howell Cobb, Joshua R. Giddings, Linn Boyd, John Slidell, Barnwell Rhett, Robert C. Winthrop, the Speaker, Hannibal Hamlin, elected Vice-President upon the ticket with Mr. Lincoln in 1860, Andrew Johnson, the successor of the lamented President in 1865, and John Quincy Adams, whose brilliant career as Ambassador, Senator, Secretary of State, and President, was rounded out by nearly two decades of faithful service as a Representative in Congress.
The period that witnessed the entrance of Douglas into the great Commons was an eventful one in our political history. John Tyler, upon the death of President Harrison, had succeeded to the great office, and was in irreconcilable hostility to the leaders of his party upon the vital issues upon which the Whig victory of 1840 had been achieved. Henry Clay—then at the zenith of his marvellous powers—merciless in his arraignment of the Tyler administration, was unwittingly breeding the party dissentions that eventually compassed his own defeat in his last struggle for the Presidency. Daniel Webster, regardless of the criticism of party associates, and after the retirement of his Whig colleagues from the Tyler cabinet, still remained at the head of the State Department. His vindication, if needed, abundantly appears in the treaty by which our northeastern boundary was definitely adjusted, and war with England happily averted.
In the rush of events, party antagonisms, in the main, soon fade from remembrance. One, however, that did not pass with the occasion, but lingered even to the shades of the Hermitage, was unrelenting hostility to President Jackson. For his declaration of martial law in New Orleans just prior to the battle—with which his own name is associated for all time—General Jackson had been subjected to a heavy fine by a judge of that city. Repeated attempts in Congress looking to his vindication and reimbursement, had been unavailing. Securing the floor for the first time, Douglas—upon the anniversary of the great victory—delivered an impassioned speech in vindication of Jackson which at once challenged the attention of the country, and gave him high place among the great debaters of that memorable Congress. In reply to the demand of an opponent for a precedent for the proposed legislation, Douglas quickly responded:
"Possibly, sir, no case can be found on any page of American history where the commanding officer has been fined for an act absolutely necessary to the salvation of his country. As to precedents, let us make one now that will challenge the admiration of the world and stand the test of all the ages."
After a graphic description of conditions existing in New Orleans at the time of Jackson's declaration of martial law, "the city filled with traitors, anxious to surrender; spies transmitting information to the camp of the enemy, British regulars—four-fold the number of the American defenders—advancing to the attack—in this terrible emergency, necessity became the paramount law, the responsibility was taken, martial law declared, and a victory achieved unparalleled in the annals of war; a victory that avenged the infamy of the wanton burning of our nation's Capitol, fully, and for all time."
The speech was unanswered, the bill passed, and probably Douglas knew no prouder moment than when, a few months later, upon a visit to the Hermitage, he received the earnest thanks of the venerable commander for his masterly vindication.
Two of the salient and far-reaching questions confronting the statesmen of that eventful Congress pertained to the settlement of the Oregon boundary question, and to the annexation of the republic of Texas. The first-named question—left unsettled by the treaty of Ghent—had been for two generations the apple of discord between the American and British governments. That it at a critical moment came near involving the two nations in a war is a well-known fact in history. The platform upon which Mr. Polk had, in 1844, been elected to the Presidency, asserted unequivocally the right of the United States to the whole of the Oregon Territory. The boundary line of "fifty-four-forty" was in many of the States the decisive party watchword in that masterful contest.
Douglas, in full accord with his party upon this question, ably canvassed Illinois in earnest advocacy of Mr. Polk's election. When, at a later day, it was determined by the President and his official advisers to abandon the party platform demand of "fifty-four degrees and forty minutes" as the only settlement of the disputed boundary, and accept that of the parallel of forty-nine degrees—reluctantly proposed by Great Britain as a peaceable final settlement—Mr. Douglas earnestly antagonizing any concession, was at once in opposition to the administration he had assisted to bring into power. Whether the part of wisdom was a strict adherence to the platform dicta of "the whole of Oregon," or a reasonable concession in the interest of peaceable adjustment of a dangerous question, was long a matter of vehement discussion. It suffices that the treaty with Great Britain establishing our northwestern boundary upon the parallel last named was promptly ratified by the Senate, and the once famous Oregon question peaceably relegated to the realm of history.
A question—sixty odd years ago—equal in importance with that of the Oregon boundary was the annexation of Texas. The "Lone Star State" had been virtually an independent republic since the decisive victory of General Houston over Santa Ana in 1837 at San Jacinto, and its independence as such had been acknowledged by our own and European governments. The hardy settlers of this new Commonwealth were in the main emigrants from the United States, and earnestly solicitous of admission into the Federal Union. The question of annexation entered largely into the Presidential canvass of 1844, and the "lone star" upon Democratic banners was an important factor in securing the triumph of Mr. Polk in that bitterly contested election. In the closing hours of the Tyler administration, annexation was at length effected by joint resolution of Congress, and Texas passed at once from an independent republic to a State of the American Union. This action of Congress, however, gave deep offence to the Mexican government, and was the initial in a series of stirring events soon to follow. The Mexican invasion, the brilliant victories won by American valor, and the treaty of peace —by which our domain was extended westward to the Pacific— constitute a thrilling chapter in the annals of war. Brief in duration, the Mexican War was the training school for men whose military achievements were yet to make resplendent the pages of history. Under the victorious banners of the great commanders, Taylor and Scott, were Thomas and Beauregard, Shields and Hill, Johnston and Sherman, McClellan and Longstreet, Hancock and Stonewall Jackson, Lee and Grant. In the list of heroes were eight future candidates for the Presidency, three of whom—Taylor, Pierce, and Grant—were triumphantly elected.
Meanwhile, at the nation's Capitol was held high debate over questions second in importance to none that have engaged the profound consideration of statesmen—that literally took hold of the issues of war, conquest, diplomacy, peace, empire. From its inception, Douglas was an unfaltering advocate of the project of annexation, and as chairman of the Committee on Territories, bore prominent part in the protracted and exciting debates consequent upon the passage of that measure in the House of Representatives. In his celebrated colloquy with Mr. Adams he contended that the joint resolution he advocated was in reality only for the re-annexation of territory originally ours under the Louisiana Purchase of 1803. That something akin to the spirit of "manifest destiny" brooded over the discussion may be gathered from the closing sentences of his speech:
"Our Federal system is admirably adapted to the whole continent; and while I would not violate the laws of national or treaty stipulations, or in any manner tarnish the national honor, I would exert all legal and honorable means to drive Great Britain and the last vestige of royal authority from the continent of North America, and extend the limits of the republic from ocean to ocean."
Elected to the Senate at the age of thirty-four, Douglas took his seat in that august body in December, 1847. On the same day Abraham Lincoln took the oath of office as a member from Illinois in the House of Representatives. The Senate was presided over by the able and accomplished Vice-President, George M. Dallas. Seldom has there been a more imposing list of great names than that which now included the young Senator from Illinois. Conspicuous among the Senators of the thirty States represented, were Dix of New York, Dayton of New Jersey, Hale of New Hampshire, Clayton of Delaware, Reverdy Johnson of Maryland, Mason of Virginia, King of Alabama, Davis of Mississippi, Bell of Tennessee, Corwin of Ohio, Crittenden of Kentucky, Breese of Illinois, Benton of Missouri, Houston of Texas, Calhoun of South Carolina, and Webster of Massachusetts. It need hardly be said that the debates of that and the immediately succeeding Congress have possibly never been surpassed in ability and eloquence by any deliberative assembly.
The one vital and portentous question—in some one of its many phases—was that of human slavery. This institution—until its final extinction amid the flames of war—cast its ominous shadow over our nation's pathway from the beginning. From the establishment of the Government under the Federal Constitution to the period mentioned, it had been the constant subject of compromise and concession.
Henry Clay was first known as "the great pacificator" by his tireless efforts in the exciting struggle of 1820, over the admission of Missouri—with its Constitution recognizing slavery—into the Federal Union. Bowed with the weight of years, the Kentucky statesman, from the retirement he had sought, in recognition of the general desire of his countrymen, again returned to the theatre of his early struggles and triumphs. The fires of ambition had burned low by age and bereavement, but with earnest longing that he might again pour oil upon the troubled waters, he presented to the Senate, as terms of final peaceable adjustment of the slavery question, the once famous compromise measures of 1850.