CHAPTER VIToC

WAR AND POLITICS

A long and involved diplomatic history preceded President Polk's simple announcement that "Mexico has passed the boundary of the United States, has invaded our territory and shed American blood upon American soil." Rightly to evaluate these words, the reader should bear in mind that the mission of John Slidell to Mexico had failed; that the hope of a peaceable adjustment of the Texas boundary and of American claims against Mexico had vanished; and that General Taylor had been ordered to the Rio Grande in disregard of Mexican claims to that region. One should also know that, from the beginning of his administration, Polk had hoped to secure from our bankrupt neighbor the cession of California as an indemnity.^[223] A motive for forbearance in dealing with the distraught Mexican government was thus wholly absent from the mind of President Polk.

Such of these facts as were known at the time, supplied the Whig opposition in Congress with an abundance of ammunition against the administration. Language was used which came dangerously near being unparliamentary. So the President was willing to sacrifice Oregon to prosecute this "illegal, unrighteous and damnable war" for Texas, sneered Delano. "Where did the gentleman from Illinois stand now? Was he still in favor of 61?" This sally brought Douglas to his feet and elicited one of his cleverest extempore speeches. He believed that such words as the gentleman had uttered could come only from one who desired defeat for our arms. "All who, after war is declared, condemn the justice of our cause, are traitors in their hearts. And would to God that they would commit some overt act for which they could be dealt with according to their deserts." Patriots might differ as to the expediency of entering upon war; but duty and honor forbade divided counsels after American blood had been shed on American soil. Had he foreseen the extraordinary turn of the discussion, he assured his auditors, he could have presented "a catalogue of aggressions and insults; of outrages on our national flag—on persons and property of our citizens; of the violation of treaty stipulations, and the murder, robbery, and imprisonment of our countrymen." These were all anterior to the annexation of Texas, and perhaps alone would have justified a declaration of war; but "magnanimity and forbearance toward a weak and imbecile neighbor" prevented hostilities. The recent outrages left the country no choice but war. The invasion of the country was the last of the cumulative causes for war.

But was the invaded territory properly "our country"? This was the crux of the whole matter. On this point Douglas was equally confident and explicit. Waiving the claims which the treaty of San Ildefonso may have given to the boundary of the Rio Grande, he rested the whole case upon "an immutable principle"—the Republic of Texas held the country on the left bank of that river by virtue of a successful revolution. The United States had received Texas as a State with all her territory, and had no right to surrender any portion of it.^[224]

The evidence which Douglas presented to confirm these claims is highly interesting. The right of Texas to have and to hold the territory from the Nueces to the Rio Grande was, in his opinion, based incontrovertibly on the treaty made by Santa Anna after the battle of San Jacinto, which acknowledged the independence of Texas and recognized the Rio Grande as its boundary. To an inquiry whether the treaty was ever ratified by the government of Mexico, Douglas replied that he was not aware that it had been ratified by anyone except Santa Anna, for the very good reason that he was the government at the time. "Has not that treaty with Santa Anna been since discarded by the Mexican government?" asked the venerable J.Q. Adams. "I presume it has," replied Douglas, "for I am not aware of any treaty or compact which that government ever entered into that has not either been violated or repudiated by them afterwards." But Santa Anna, as recognized dictator, was the de facto government, and the acts of a de facto government were binding on the nation as against foreign nations. "It is immaterial, therefore, whether Mexico has or has not since repudiated Santa Anna's treaty with Texas. It was executed at the time by competent authority. She availed herself of all its benefits." Forthwith Texas established counties beyond the Nueces, even to the Rio Grande, and extended her jurisdiction over that region, while in a later armistice Mexico recognized the Rio Grande as the boundary. It was in the clear light of these facts that Congress had passed an act extending the revenue laws of the United States over the country between the Rio Grande and the Nueces—the very country in which American soldiers had been slain by an invading force.

All things considered, Douglas's line of argument was as well sustained as any presented by the supporters of the war. The absence of any citations to substantiate important points was of course due to the impromptu nature of the speech. Two years later,^[225] in a carefully prepared speech constructed on much the same principles, he made good these omissions, but without adding much, it must be confessed, to the strength of his argument. The chain of evidence was in fact no stronger than its weakest link, which was the so-called treaty of Santa Anna with the President of the Republic of Texas. Nowhere in the articles, public or secret, is there an express recognition of the independence of the Republic, nor of the boundary. Santa Anna simply pledged himself to do his utmost to bring about a recognition of independence, and an acknowledgment of the claims of Texas to the Rio Grande as a boundary.^[226] Did Douglas misinterpret these articles, or did he chance upon an unauthentic version of them? In the subsequent speech to which reference has been made, he cited specific articles which supported his contention. These citations do not tally with either the public or secret treaty. It may be doubted whether the secret articles were generally known at this time; but the open treaty had been published in Niles' Register correctly, and had been cited by President Polk.^[227] The inference would seem to be that Douglas unwittingly used an unauthenticated version, and found in it a conclusive argument for the claim of Texas to the disputed territory.

Mr. John Quincy Adams had followed Douglas with the keenest interest, for with all the vigor which his declining strength permitted, he had denounced the war as an aggression upon a weaker neighbor. He had repeatedly interrupted Douglas, so that the latter almost insensibly addressed his remarks to him. They presented a striking contrast: the feeble, old man and the ardent, young Westerner. When Douglas alluded to the statement of Mr. Adams in 1819, that "our title to the Rio del Norte is as clear as to the island of New Orleans," the old man replied testily, "I never said that our title was good to the Rio del Norte from its mouth to its source." But the gentleman surely did claim the Rio del Norte in general terms as the boundary under the Louisiana treaty, persisted Douglas. "I have the official evidence over his own signature.... It is his celebrated dispatch to Don Onis, the Spanish minister." "I wrote that dispatch as Secretary of State," responded Mr. Adams, somewhat disconcerted by evidence from his own pen, "and endeavored to make out the best case I could for my own country, as it was my duty; but I utterly deny that I claimed the Rio del Norte in its whole extent. I only claimed it as the line a short distance up, and then took a line northward, some distance from the river." "I have heard of this line to which the gentleman refers," replied Douglas. "It followed a river near the gorge of the mountains, certainly more than a hundred miles above Matamoras. Consequently, taking the gentleman on his own claim, the position occupied by General Taylor opposite Matamoras, and every inch of the ground upon which an American soldier has planted his foot, were clearly within our own territory as claimed by him in 1819."^[228]

It seemed to an eyewitness of this encounter that the veteran statesman was decidedly worsted. "The House was divided between admiration for the new actor on the great stage of national affairs and reverence for the retiring chief," wrote a friend in after years, with more loyalty than accuracy.^[229] The Whig side of the chamber was certainly in no mood to waste admiration on any Democrat who defended "Polk the Mendacious."

Hardly had the war begun when there was a wild scramble among Democrats for military office. It seemed to the distressed President as though every Democratic civilian became an applicant for some commission. Particularly embarrassing was the passion for office that seized upon members of Congress. Even Douglas felt the spark of military genius kindling within him. His friends, too, were convinced that he possessed qualities which would make him an intrepid leader and a tactician of no mean order. The entire Illinois delegation united to urge his appointment as Brigadier Major of the Illinois volunteers. Happily for the President, his course in this instance was clearly marked out by a law, which required him to select only officers already in command of State militia.^[230] Douglas was keenly disappointed. He even presented himself in person to overrule the President's objection. The President was kind, but firm. He advised Douglas to withdraw his application. In his judgment, Mr. Douglas could best serve his country in Congress. Shortly afterward Douglas sent a letter to the President, withdrawing his application—"like a sensible man," commented the relieved Executive.^[231] It is not likely that the army lost a great commander by this decision.

In a State like Illinois, which had been staunchly Democratic for many years, elections during a war waged by a Democratic administration were not likely to yield any surprises. There was perhaps even less doubt of the result of the election in the Fifth Congressional District. By the admission of his opponents Douglas was stronger than he had been before.^[232] Moreover, the war was popular in the counties upon whose support he had counted in other years. He had committed no act for which he desired general oblivion; his warlike utterances on Oregon, which had cost him some humiliation at Washington, so far from forfeiting the confidence of his followers, seem rather to have enhanced his popularity. Douglas carried every county in his district but one, and nearly all by handsome majorities. He had been first sent to Congress by a majority over Browning of less than five hundred votes; in the following canvass he had tripled his majority; and now he was returned to Congress by a majority of over twenty-seven hundred votes.^[233] He had every reason to feel gratified with this showing, even though some of his friends were winning military glory on Mexican battlefields. So long as he remained content with his seat in the House, there were no clouds in his political firmament. Not even the agitation of Abolitionists and Native Americans need cause him any anxiety, for the latter were wholly a negligible political quantity and the former practically so.^[234] Everywhere but in the Seventh District, from which Lincoln was returned, Democratic Congressmen were chosen; and to make the triumph complete, a Democratic State ticket was elected and a Democratic General Assembly again assured.

Early in the fall, on his return from a Southern trip, Douglas called upon the President in Washington. He was cordially welcomed, and not a little flattered by Polk's readiness to talk over the political situation before Congress met.^[235] Evidently his support was earnestly desired for the contemplated policies of the administration. It was needed, as events proved. No sooner was Congress assembled than the opposition charged Polk with having exceeded his authority in organizing governments in the territory wrested from Mexico. Douglas sprang at once to the President's defense. He would not presume to speak with authority in the matter, but an examination of the accessible official papers had convinced him that the course of the President and of the commanders of the army was altogether defensible. "In conducting the war, conquest was effected, and the right growing out of conquest was to govern the subdued provinces in a temporary and provisional manner, until the home government should establish a government in another form."^[236] And more to this effect, uttered in the heated language of righteous indignation.

For thus throwing himself into the breach, Douglas was rewarded by further confidences. Before Polk replied to the resolution of inquiry which the House had voted, he summoned Douglas and a colleague to the White House, to acquaint them with the contents of his message and with the documents which would accompany it, so "that they might be prepared to meet any attacks." And again, with four other members of the House, Douglas was asked to advise the President in the matter of appointing Colonel Benton to the office of lieutenant-general in command of the armies in the field. At the same time, the President laid before them his project for an appropriation of two millions to purchase peace; i.e. to secure a cession of territory from Mexico. With one accord Douglas and his companions advised the President not to press Benton's appointment, but all agreed that the desired appropriation should be pushed through Congress with all possible speed.^[237] Yet all knew that such a bill must run the gauntlet of amendment by those who had attached the Wilmot Proviso to the two-million-dollar bill of the last session.

While Douglas was thus rising rapidly to the leadership of his party in the House, the Legislature of his State promoted him to the Senate. For six years he had been a potential candidate for the office, despite his comparative youth.^[238] What transpired in the Democratic caucus which named him as the candidate of the party, history does not record. That there was jealousy on the part of older men, much heart-burning among the younger aspirants, and bargaining on all sides, may be inferred from an incident recorded in Polk's diary.^[239] Soon after his election, Douglas repaired to the President's office to urge the appointment of Richard M. Young of Illinois as Commissioner of the General Land Office. This was not the first time that Douglas had urged the appointment, it would seem. The President now inquired of Senator Breese, who had accompanied Douglas and seconded his request, whether the appointment would be satisfactory to the Illinois delegation. Both replied that it would, if Mr. Hoge, a member of the present Congress, who had been recommended at the last session, could not be appointed. The President repeated his decision not to appoint members of Congress to office, except in special cases, and suggested another candidate. Neither Douglas nor Breese would consent. Polk then spoke of a diplomatic charge for Young, but they would not hear of it.

Next morning Douglas returned to the attack, and the President, under pressure, sent the nomination of Young to the Senate; before five o'clock of the same day, Polk was surprised to receive a notification from the Secretary of the Senate that the nomination had been confirmed. The President was a good deal mystified by this unusual promptness, until three members of the Illinois delegation called some hours later, in a state of great excitement, saying that Douglas and Breese had taken advantage of them. They had no knowledge that Young's nomination was being pressed, and McClernand in high dudgeon intimated that this was all a bargain between Young and the two Senators. Douglas and Breese had sought to prevent Young from contesting their seats in the Senate, by securing a fat office for him. All this is ex parte evidence against Senator Douglas; but there is nothing intrinsically improbable in the story. In these latter days, so comparatively innocent a deal would pass without comment.

Immediately upon taking his seat in the Senate, Douglas was appointed chairman of the Committee on Territories. It was then a position of the utmost importance, for every question of territorial organization touched the peculiar interests of the South. The varying currents of public opinion crossed in this committee. Senator Bright of Indiana is well described by the hackneyed and often misapplied designation, a Northern Democrat with Southern principles; Butler was Calhoun's colleague; Clayton of Delaware was a Whig and represented a border State which was vacillating between slavery and freedom; while Davis was a Massachusetts Whig. Douglas was placed, as it appeared, in the very storm center of politics, where his well-known fighting qualities would be in demand. It was not so clear to those who knew him, that he possessed the not less needful qualities of patience and tact for occasions when battles are not won by fighting. Still, life at the capital had smoothed his many little asperities of manner. He had learned to conform to the requirements of a social etiquette to which he had been a stranger; yet without losing the heartiness of manner and genial companionableness with all men which was, indeed, his greatest personal charm. His genuineness and large-hearted regard for his friends grappled them to him and won respect even from those who were not of his political faith.^[240]

An incident at the very outset of his career in the Senate, betrayed some little lack of self-restraint. When Senator Cass introduced the so-called Ten Regiments bill, Calhoun asked that its consideration might be postponed, in order to give him opportunity to discuss resolutions on the prospective annexation of Mexico. Cass was disposed to yield for courtesy's sake; but Douglas resented the interruption. He failed to see why public business should be suspended in order to discuss abstract propositions. He believed that this doctrine of courtesy was being carried to great lengths.^[241] Evidently the young Senator, fresh from the brisk atmosphere of the House, was restive under the conventional restraints of the more sedate Senate. He had not yet become acclimated.

Douglas made his first formal speech in the Senate on February 1, 1848. Despite his disclaimers, he had evidently made careful preparation, for his desk was strewn with books and he referred frequently to his authorities. The Ten Regiments bill was known to be a measure of the administration; and for this reason, if for no other, it was bitterly opposed. The time seemed opportune for a vindication of the President's policy. Douglas indignantly repelled the charge that the war had from the outset been a war of conquest. "It is a war of self-defense, forced upon us by our enemy, and prosecuted on our part in vindication of our honor, and the integrity of our territory. The enemy invaded our territory, and we repelled the invasion, and demanded satisfaction for all our grievances. In order to compel Mexico to do us justice, it was necessary to follow her retreating armies into her territory ... and inasmuch as it was certain that she was unable to make indemnity in money, we must necessarily take it in land. Conquest was not the motive for the prosecution of the war; satisfaction, indemnity, security, was the motive—conquest and territory the means."^[242]

Once again Douglas reviewed the origin of the war re-arguing the case for the administration. If the arguments employed were now well-worn, they were repeated with an incisiveness that took away much of their staleness. This speech must be understood as complementary to that which he had made in the House at the opening of hostilities. But he had not changed his point of view, nor moderated his contentions. Time seemed to have served only to make him surer of his evidence. Douglas exhibited throughout his most conspicuous excellencies and his most glaring defects. From first to last he was an attorney, making the best possible defense of his client. Nothing could excel his adroit selection of evidence, and his disposition and massing of telling testimony. Form and presentation were admirably calculated to disarm and convince. It goes without saying that Douglas's mental attitude was the opposite of the scientific and historic spirit. Having a proposition to establish, he cared only for pertinent evidence. He rarely inquired into the character of the authorities from which he culled his data.

Before a vote could be reached on the Ten Regiments bill, the draft of the Mexican treaty had been sent to the Senate. What transpired in executive session and what part Douglas sustained in the discussion of the treaty, may be guessed pretty accurately by his later admissions. He was one of an aggressive minority who stoutly opposed the provision of the fifth article of the treaty, which was to this effect: "The boundary-line established by this article shall be religiously respected by each of the two republics, and no change shall ever be made therein except by the express and free consent of both nations, lawfully given by the general government of each, in conformity with its own Constitution." This statement was deemed a humiliating avowal that the United States had wrongfully warred upon Mexico, and a solemn pledge that we would never repeat the offense. The obvious retort was that certain consciences now seemed hypersensitive about the war. However that may be, eleven votes were recorded for conscience' sake against the odious article.

This was not the only ground of complaint. Douglas afterward stated the feeling of the minority in this way: "It violated a great principle of public policy in relation to this continent. It pledges the faith of this Republic that our successors shall not do that which duty to the interests and honor of the country, in the progress of events, may compel them to do." But he hastened to add that he meditated no aggression upon Mexico. In short, the Republic,—such was his hardly-concealed thought,—might again fall out with its imbecile neighbor and feel called upon to administer punishment by demanding indemnity. There was no knowing what "the progress of events" might make a national necessity.^[243]

As yet Douglas had contributed nothing to the solution of the problem which lurked behind the Mexican cession; nor had he tried his hand at making party opinion on new issues. He seemed to have no concern beyond the concrete business on the calendar of the Senate. He classed all anticipatory discussion of future issues as idle abstraction. Had he no imagination? Had he no eyes to see beyond the object immediately within his field of vision? Had his alert intelligence suddenly become myopic?

On the subject of Abolitionism, at least, he had positive convictions, which he did not hesitate to express. An exciting episode in the Senate drew from him a sharp arraignment of the extreme factions North and South. An acrimonious debate had been precipitated by a bill introduced by that fervid champion of Abolitionism, Senator Hale of New Hampshire, which purported to protect property in the District of Columbia against rioters. A recent attack upon the office of the National Era, the organ of Abolitionism, at the capital, as everyone understood, inspired the bill, and inevitably formed the real subject of debate.^[244] It was in the heated colloquy that ensued that Senator Foote of Mississippi earned his sobriquet of "Hangman," by inviting Hale to visit Mississippi and to "grace one of the tallest trees of the forest, with a rope around his neck." Calhoun, too, was excited beyond his wont, declaring that he would as soon argue with a maniac from Bedlam as with the Senator from New Hampshire.

With cool audacity and perfect self-possession, Douglas undertook to recall the Senate to its wonted composure,—a service not likely to be graciously received by the aggrieved parties. Douglas remarked sarcastically that Southern gentlemen had effected just what the Senator from New Hampshire, as presidential candidate of the Abolitionists, had desired: they had unquestionably doubled his vote in the free States. The invitation of the Senator from Mississippi alone was worth not less than ten thousand votes to the Senator from New Hampshire. "It is the speeches of Southern men, representing slave States, going to an extreme, breathing a fanaticism as wild and as reckless as that of the Senator from New Hampshire, which creates Abolitionism in the North." These were hardly the words of the traditional peacemaker. Senator Foote was again upon his feet breathing out imprecations. "I must again congratulate the Senator from New Hampshire," resumed Douglas, "on the accession of the five thousand votes!" Again a colloquy ensued. Calhoun declared Douglas's course "at least as offensive as that of the Senator from New Hampshire." Douglas was then permitted to speak uninterruptedly. He assured his Southern colleagues that, as one not altogether unacquainted with life in the slave States, he appreciated their indignation against Abolitionists and shared it; but as he had no sympathy for Abolitionism, he also had none for that extreme course of Southern gentlemen which was akin to Abolitionism. "We stand up for all your constitutional rights, in which we will protect you to the last.... But we protest against being made instruments—puppets—in this slavery excitement, which can operate only to your interest and the building up of those who wish to put you down."^[245]

Dignified silence, however, was the last thing to be expected from the peppery gentleman from Mississippi. He must speak "the language of just indignation." He gladly testified to the consideration with which Douglas was wont to treat the South, but he warned the young Senator from Illinois that the old adage—"in medio tutissimus ibis"—might lead him astray. He might think to reach the goal of his ambitions by keeping clear of the two leading factions and by identifying himself with the masses, but he was grievously mistaken.

The reply of Douglas was dignified and guarded. He would not speak for or against slavery. The institution was local and sustained by local opinion; by local sentiment it would stand or fall. "In the North it is not expected that we should take the position that slavery is a positive good—a positive blessing. If we did assume such a position, it would be a very pertinent inquiry. Why do you not adopt this institution? We have moulded our institutions at the North as we have thought proper; and now we say to you of the South, if slavery be a blessing, it is your blessing; if it be a curse, it is your curse; enjoy it—on you rest all the responsibility! We are prepared to aid you in the maintenance of all your constitutional rights; and I apprehend that no man, South or North, has shown more consistently a disposition to do so than myself.... But I claim the privilege of pointing out to you how you give strength and encouragement to the Abolitionists of the North."^[246]

FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER VIIToC

THE MEXICAN CESSION

When Douglas entered Washington in the fall of 1847, as junior Senator from Illinois, our troops had occupied the city of Mexico and negotiations for peace were well under way. Perplexing problems awaited Congress. President Polk sternly reminded the two Houses that peace must bring indemnity for the past and security for the future, and that the only indemnity which Mexico could offer would be a cession of territory. Unwittingly, he gave the signal for another bitter controversy, for in the state of public opinion at that moment, every accession of territory was bound to raise the question of the extension of slavery. The country was on the eve of another presidential election. Would the administration which had precipitated the war, prove itself equal to the legislative burdens imposed by that war? Could the party evolve a constructive programme and at the same time name a candidate that would win another victory at the polls?

It soon transpired that the Democratic party was at loggerheads. Of all the factions, that headed by the South Carolina delegation possessed the greatest solidarity. Under the leadership of Calhoun, its attitude toward slavery in the Territories was already clearly stated in almost syllogistic form: the States are co-sovereigns in the Territories; the general government is only the agent of the co-sovereigns; therefore, the citizens of each State may settle in the Territories with whatever is recognized as property in their own State. The corollary of this doctrine was: Congress may not exclude slavery from the Territories.

Beside these well-defined groups there were others which professed no doctrines and no policies. Probably the rank and file of the party were content to drift: to be non committal was safer than to be doctrinaire; besides, it cost less effort. Such was the plight of the Democratic party on the eve of a presidential election. If harmony was to proceed out of this diversity, the process must needs be accelerated.

The fate of Oregon had been a hard one. Without a territorial government through no fault of their own, the settlers had been repeatedly visited by calamities which the prompt action of Congress might have averted.^[247] The Senate had failed to act on one territorial bill; twice it had rejected bills which had passed the House, and the only excuse for delay was the question of slavery, which everybody admitted could never exist in Oregon. On January 10, 1848, for the fourth time, Douglas presented a bill to provide a territorial government for Oregon;^[248] but before he could urge its consideration, he was summoned to the bed-side of his father-in-law. His absence left a dead-lock in the Committee on Territories: Democrats and Whigs could not agree on the clause in the bill which prohibited slavery in Oregon. What was the true inwardness of this unwillingness to prohibit slavery where it could never go?

The Senate seemed apathetic; but its apathy was more feigned than real. There was, indeed, great interest in the bill, but equally great reluctance to act upon it. What the South feared was not that Oregon would be free soil,—that was conceded,—but that an unfavorable precedent would be established. Were it conceded that Congress might exclude slavery from Oregon, a similar power could not be denied Congress in legislating for the newly acquired Territories where slavery was possible.^[249]

As a last resort, a select committee was appointed, of which Senator Clayton became chairman. Within a week, a compromise was reported which embraced not only Oregon, but California and New Mexico as well. The laws of the provisional government of Oregon were to stand until the new legislature should alter them, while the legislatures of the prospective Territories of California and New Mexico were forbidden to make laws touching slavery. The question whether, under existing laws, slaves might or might not be carried into these two Territories, was left to the courts with right of appeal to the Supreme Court of the United States.^[250] The Senate accepted this compromise after a prolonged debate, but the House laid it on the table without so much as permitting it to be read.^[251]

Douglas returned in time to give his vote for the Clayton compromise,^[252] but when this laborious effort to adjust controverted matters failed, he again pressed his original bill.^[253] Hoping to make this more palatable, he suggested an amendment to the objectionable prohibitory clause: "inasmuch as the said territory is north of the parallel of 36° 30' of north latitude, usually known as the Missouri Compromise." It was the wish of his committee, he told the Senate, that "no Senator's vote on the bill should be understood as committing him on the great question."^[254] In other words, he invited the Senate to act without creating a precedent; to extend the Missouri Compromise line without raising troublesome constitutional questions in the rest of the public domain; to legislate for a special case on the basis of an old agreement, without predicating anything about the future. When this amendment came to vote, only Douglas and Bright supported it.^[255]

Douglas then proposed to extend the Missouri Compromised line to the Pacific, by an amendment which declared the old agreement "revived ... and in full force and binding for the future organization of the Territories of the United States, in the same sense and with the same understanding with which it was originally adopted."^[256] This was President Polk's solution of the question. It commended itself to Douglas less on grounds of equity than of expediency. It was a compromise which then cost him no sacrifice of principle; but though the Senate agreed to the proposal, the House would have none of it.^[257] In the end, after an exhausting session, the Senate gave way,^[258] and the Territory of Oregon was organized with the restrictive clause borrowed from the Ordinance of 1787. All this turmoil had effected nothing except ill-feeling, for the final act was identical with the bill which Douglas had originally introduced in the House.

In the meantime, national party conventions for the nomination of presidential candidates had been held. The choice of the Democrats fell upon Cass; but his nomination could not be interpreted as an indorsement of his doctrine of squatter sovereignty. By a decisive vote, the convention rejected Yancey's resolution favoring "non-interference with the rights of property of any portion of the people of this confederation, be it in the States or in the Territories, by any other than the parties interested in them."^[259] The action of the convention made it clear that traditional principles and habitual modes of political thought and action alone held the party together. The Whig party had no greater organic unity. The nomination of General Taylor, who was a doubtful Whig, was a confession that the party was non-committal on the issues of the hour. There was much opposition to both candidates. Many anti-slavery Whigs could not bring themselves to vote for Taylor, who was a slave-owner; Democrats who had supported the Wilmot Proviso, disliked the evasive doctrine of Cass.

The disaffected of both parties finally effected a fusion in the Free-Soil convention, and with other anti-slavery elements nominated Van Buren as their presidential candidate. With the cry of "Free soil, free speech, free labor, and free men," the new party threatened to upset the calculations of politicians in many quarters of the country.

The defeat of the Democratic party in the election of 1848 was attributed to the war of factions in New York. Had the Barnburners supported Cass, he would have secured the electoral vote of the State. They were accused of wrecking the party out of revenge. Certain it is that the outcome was indecisive, so far as the really vital questions of the hour were concerned. A Whig general had been sent to the White House, but no one knew what policies he would advocate. The Democrats were still in control of the Senate; but thirteen Free-Soilers held the balance of power in the House.^[260]

Curiosity was excited to know what the moribund administration of the discredited Polk would do. Douglas shared this inquisitiveness. He had parted with the President in August rather angrily, owing to a fancied grievance. On his return he called at the White House and apologized handsomely for his "imprudent language."^[261] The President was more than glad to patch up the quarrel, for he could ill afford now, in these waning hours of his administration, to part company with one whom he regarded as "an ardent and active political supporter and friend." Cordial relations resumed, Polk read to Douglas confidentially such portions of his forthcoming message as related to the tariff, the veto power, and the establishment of territorial governments in California and New Mexico. In the spirit of compromise he was still willing to approve an extension of the Missouri Compromise line through our new possessions. Should this prove unacceptable, he would give his consent to a bill which would leave the vexing question of slavery in the new Territories to the judiciary, as Clayton had proposed. Douglas was now thoroughly deferential. He gratified the President by giving the message his unqualified approval.^[262]

However, by the time Congress met, Douglas had made out his own programme; and it differed in one respect from anything that the President, or for that matter anyone else, had suggested. He proposed to admit both New Mexico and California; i.e. all of the territory acquired from Mexico, into the Union as a State. Some years later, Douglas said that he had introduced his California bill with the approval of the President;^[263] but in this his memory was surely at fault. The full credit for this innovation belongs to Douglas.^[264] He justified the departure from precedent in this instance, on the score of California's astounding growth in population. Besides, a territorial bill could hardly pass in this short session, "for reasons which may be apparent to all of us." Three bills had already been rejected.^[265]

Now while California had rapidly increased in population, there were probably not more than twenty-six thousand souls within its borders, and of these more than a third were foreigners.^[266] One would naturally suppose that a period of territorial tutelage would have been peculiarly fitting for this distant possession. Obviously, Douglas did not disclose his full thought. What he really proposed, was to avoid raising the spectre of slavery again. If the people of California could skip the period of their political minority and leap into their majority, they might then create their own institutions: no one could gainsay this right, when once California should be a "sovereign State." This was an application of squatter sovereignty at which Calhoun, least of all, could mock.

The President and his cabinet were taken by surprise. Frequent consultations were held. Douglas was repeatedly closeted with the President. All the members of the cabinet agreed that the plan of leaving the slavery question to the people of the new State was ingenious; but many objections were raised to a single State. In repeated interviews, Polk urged Douglas to draft a separate bill for New Mexico; but Douglas was obdurate.^[267]

To Douglas's chagrin, the California bill was not referred to his committee, but to the Committee on the Judiciary. Perhaps this course was in accord with precedent, but it was noted that four out of the five members of this committee were Southerners, and that the vote to refer was a sectional one.^[268] An adverse report was therefore to be expected. Signs were not wanting that if the people of the new province were left to work out their own salvation, they would exclude slavery.^[269] The South was acutely sensitive to such signs. Nothing of this bias, however, appeared in the report of the committee. With great cleverness and circumspection they chose another mode of attack.

The committee professed to discover in the bill a radical departure from traditional policy. When had Congress ever created a State out of "an unorganized body of people having no constitution, or laws, or legitimate bond of union?" California was to be a "sovereign State," yet the bill provided that Congress should interpose its authority to form new States out of it, and to prescribe rules for elections to a constitutional convention. What sort of sovereignty was this? Moreover, since Texas claimed a part of New Mexico, endless litigations would follow. In the judgment of the committee, it would be far wiser to organize the usual territorial governments for California and New Mexico.^[270]

To these sensible objections, Douglas replied ineffectively. The question of sovereignty, he thought, did not depend upon the size of a State: without doing violence to the sovereignty of California, Congress could surely carve new States out of its territory; but if there were doubts on this point, he would move to add the saving clause, "with the consent of the State." He suggested no expedient for the other obstacles in the way of State sovereignty. As for precedents, there were the first three States admitted into the Union,—Kentucky, Vermont, and Tennessee,—none of which had any organized government recognized by Congress.^[271] They never furnished their constitutions to Congress for inspection. Here Douglas hit wide of the mark. No one had contended that a State must present a written constitution before being recognized, but only that the people must have some form of political organization, before they could be treated as constituting a State in a constitutional sense.^[272]

At the same time, halting as this defense was, Douglas gave ample proof of his disinterestedness in advocating a State government for California. "I think, Sir," he said, "that the only issue now presented, is whether you will admit California as a State, or whether you will leave it without government, exposed to all the horrors of anarchy and violence. I have no hope of a Territorial government this session. No man is more willing to adopt such a form of government than I would be; no man would work with more energy and assiduity to accomplish that object at this session than I would."^[273] Indeed, so far from questioning his motives, the members of the Judiciary Committee quite overwhelmed Douglas by their extreme deference.^[274] Senator Butler, the chairman, assured him that the committee was disposed to treat the bill with all the respect due to its author; for his own part, he had always intended to show marked respect to the Senator from Illinois.^[275] Douglas responded somewhat grimly that he was quite at a loss to understand "why these assurances came so thick on this point."

Most men would have accepted the situation as thoroughly hopeless; but Douglas was nothing if not persistent. In quick succession he framed two more bills, one of which provided for a division of California and for the admission of the western part as a State;^[276] and then when this failed to win support, he reverted to Folk's suggestion—the admission of New Mexico and California as two States.^[277] But the Senate evinced no enthusiasm for this patch-work legislation.^[278]

The difficulty of legislating for California was increased by the disaffection of the Southern wing of the Democratic party. Calhoun was suspected of fomenting a conspiracy to break up the Union.^[279] Yet in all probability he contemplated only the formation of a distinctly Southern party based on common economic and political interests.^[280] He not only failed in this, because Southern Whigs were not yet ready to break with their Northern associates; but he barely avoided breaking up the solidarity of Southern Democrats, and he made it increasingly difficult for Northern and Southern Democrats to act together in matters which did not touch the peculiar institution of the South.^[281] Thenceforth, harmonious party action was possible only through a deference of Northern Democrats to Southern, which was perpetually misinterpreted by their opponents.

Senator Hale thought the course of Northern representatives and senators pusillanimous and submissive to the last degree; and no considerations of taste prevented him from expressing his opinions on all occasions. Nettled by his taunts, and no doubt sensitive to the grain of truth in the charge, perplexed also by the growing factionalism in his party, Douglas retorted that the fanaticism of certain elements at the North was largely responsible for the growth of sectional rancor. For the first time he was moved to state publicly his maturing belief in the efficacy of squatter sovereignty, as a solvent of existing problems in the public domain.

"Sir, if we wish to settle this question of slavery, let us banish the agitation from these halls. Let us remove the causes which produce it; let us settle the territories we have acquired, in a manner to satisfy the honor and respect the feelings of every portion of the Union.... Bring those territories into this Union as States upon an equal footing with the original States. Let the people of such States settle the question of slavery within their limits, as they would settle the question of banking, or any other domestic institution, according to their own will."^[282]

And again, he said, "No man advocates the extension of slavery over a territory now free. On the other hand, they deny the propriety of Congress interfering to restrain, upon the great fundamental principle that the people are the source of all power; that from the people must emanate all government; that the people have the same right in these territories to establish a government for themselves that we have to overthrow our present government and establish another, if we please, or that any other government has to establish one for itself."^[283]

Not the least interesting thing about these utterances, is the fact that even Douglas could not now avoid public reference to the slavery question. He could no longer point to needed legislation quite apart from sectional interests; he could no longer treat slavery with assumed indifference; he could no longer affect to rise above such petty, local concerns to matters of national importance. He was now bound to admit that slavery stood squarely in the way of national expansion. This change of attitude was brought about in part, at least, by external pressure applied by the legislature of Illinois. With no little chagrin, he was forced to present resolutions from his own State legislature, instructing him and his colleagues in Congress to use their influence to secure the prohibition of slavery in the Mexican cession.^[284] It was not easy to harmonize these instructions with the principle of non-interference which he had just enunciated.

Ten days before the close of the session, the California question again came to the fore. Senator Walker of Wisconsin proposed a rider to the appropriations bill, which would extend the Constitution and laws in such a way as to authorize the President to set up a quasi-territorial government, in the country acquired from Mexico.^[285] It was a deliberate hold-up, justified only by the exigencies of the case, as Walker admitted. But could Congress thus extend the Constitution, by this fiat? questioned Webster. The Constitution extends over newly acquired territory proprio vigore, replied Calhoun.^[286] Douglas declined to enter into the subtle questions of constitutional law thus raised. The "metaphysics" of the subject did not disturb him. If the Senate would not pass his statehood bill, he was for the Walker amendment. A fearful responsibility rested upon Congress. The sad fate of a family from his own State, which had moved to California, had brought home to him the full measure of his responsibility. He was not disposed to quibble over points of law, while American citizens in California were exposed to the outrages of desperadoes, and of deserters from our own army and navy.^[287]

While the Senate yielded to necessity and passed the appropriations bill, rider and all, the House stubbornly clung to its bill organizing a territorial government for California, excluding slavery.^[288] The following days were among the most exciting in the history of Congress. A conference committee was unable to reach any agreement. Then Douglas tried to seize the psychological moment to persuade the Senate to accept the House bill. "I have tried to get up State bills, territorial bills, and all kinds of bills in all shapes, in the hope that some bill, in some shape, would satisfy the Senate; but thus far I have found their taste in relation to this matter too fastidious for my humble efforts. Now I wish to make another and a final effort on this bill, to see if the Senate are disposed to do anything towards giving a government to the people of California."^[289]

Both Houses continued in session far into the night of March 3d. Sectional feeling ran high. Two fist-fights occurred in the House and at least one in the Senate.^[290] It seemed as though Congress would adjourn, leaving our civil and diplomatic service penniless. Douglas frankly announced that for his part he would rather leave our office-holders without salaries, than our citizens without the protection of law.^[291] Inauguration Day was dawning when the dead-lock was broken. The Senate voted the appropriations bill without the rider, but failed to act on the House bill.^[292] The people of California were thus left to their own devices.