Thirty Years' View (Vol. II of 2)

CHAPTER CLXVIII.

THE SLAVERY AGITATION: DISUNION: KEY TO MR. CALHOUN'S POLICY: FORCING THE ISSUE: MODE OF FORCING IT

In the course of this year, and some months after the submission of his resolutions in the Senate denying the right of Congress to abolish slavery in a territory, Mr. Calhoun wrote a letter to a member of the Alabama Legislature, which furnishes the key to unlock his whole system of policy in relation to the slavery agitation, and its designs, from his first taking up the business in Congress in the year 1835, down to the date of the letter; and thereafter. The letter was in reply to one asking his opinion "as to the steps which should be taken" to guard the rights of the South; and was written in a feeling of personal confidence to a person in a condition to take steps; and which he has since published to counteract the belief that Mr. Calhoun was seeking the dissolution of the Union. The letter disavows such a design, and at the same time proves it – recommends forcing the issue between the North and the South, and lays down the manner in which it should be done. It opens with this paragraph:

"I am much gratified with the tone and views of your letter, and concur entirely in the opinion you express, that instead of shunning, we ought to court the issue with the North on the slavery question. I would even go one step further, and add that it is our duty – due to ourselves, to the Union, and our political institutions, to force the issue on the North. We are now stronger relatively than we shall be hereafter, politically and morally. Unless we bring on the issue, delay to us will be dangerous indeed. It is the true policy of those enemies who seek our destruction. Its effects are, and have been, and will be to weaken us politically and morally, and to strengthen them. Such has been my opinion from the first. Had the South, or even my own State backed me, I would have forced the issue on the North in 1835, when the spirit of abolitionism first developed itself to any considerable extent. It is a true maxim, to meet danger on the frontier, in politics as well as war. Thus thinking, I am of the impression, that if the South act as it ought, the Wilmot Proviso, instead of proving to be the means of successfully assailing us and our peculiar institution, may be made the occasion of successfully asserting our equality and rights, by enabling us to force the issue on the North. Something of the kind was indispensable to rouse and unite the South. On the contrary, if we should not meet it as we ought, I fear, greatly fear, our doom will be fixed. It would prove that we either have not the sense or spirit to defend ourselves and our institutions."

The phrase "forcing the issue" is here used too often, and for a purpose too obvious, to need remark. The reference to his movement in 1835 confirms all that was said of that movement at the time by senators from both sections of the Union, and which has been related in chapter 131 of the first volume of this View. At that time Mr. Calhoun characterized his movement as defensive – as done in a spirit of self-defence: it was then characterized by senators as aggressive and offensive: and it is now declared in this letter to have been so. He was then openly told that he was playing into the hands of the abolitionists, and giving them a champion to contend with, and the elevated theatre of the American Senate for the dissemination of their doctrines, and the production of agitation and sectional division. All that is now admitted, with a lamentation that the South, and not even his own State, would stand by him then in forcing the issue. So that chance was lost. Another was now presented. The Wilmot Proviso, so much deprecated in public, is privately saluted as a fortunate event, giving another chance for forcing the issue. The letter proceeds:

"But in making up the issue, we must look far beyond the proviso. It is but one of many acts of aggression, and, in my opinion, by no means the most dangerous or degrading, though more striking and palpable."

In looking beyond the proviso (the nature of which has been explained in a preceding chapter) Mr. Calhoun took up the recent act of the General Assembly of Pennsylvania, repealing the slave sojournment law within her limits, and obstructing the recovery of fugitive slaves – saying:

"I regard the recent act of Pennsylvania, and laws of that description, passed by other States, intended to prevent or embarrass the reclamation of fugitive slaves, or to liberate our domestics when travelling with them in non-slaveholding States, as unconstitutional. Insulting as it is, it is even more dangerous. I go further, and hold that if we have a right to hold our slaves, we have a right to hold them in peace and quiet, and that the toleration, in the non-slaveholding States, of the establishment of societies and presses, and the delivery of lectures, with the express intention of calling in question our right to our slaves, and of seducing and abducting them from the service of their masters, and finally overthrowing the institution itself, as not only a violation of international laws, but also of the Federal compact. I hold, also, that we cannot acquiesce in such wrongs, without the certain destruction of the relation of master and slave, and without the ruin of the South."

The acts of Pennsylvania here referred to are justly complained of, but with the omission to tell that these injurious acts were the fruit of his own agitation policy, and in his own line of forcing issues; and that the repeal of the sojournment law, which had subsisted since the year 1780, and the obstruction of the fugitive slave act, which had been enforced since 1793, only took place twelve years after he had commenced slavery agitation in the South, and were legitimate consequences of that agitation, and of the design to force the issue with the North. The next sentence of the letter reverts to the Wilmot Proviso, and is of momentous consequence as showing that Mr. Calhoun, with all his public professions in favor of compromise and conciliation, was secretly opposed to any compromise or adjustment, and actually considered the defeat of the proviso as a misfortune to the South. Thus:

"With this impression, I would regard any compromise or adjustment of the proviso, or even its defeat, without meeting the danger in its whole length and breadth, as very unfortunate for us. It would lull us to sleep again, without removing the danger, or materially diminishing it."

So that, while this proviso was, publicly, the Pandora's box which filled the Union with evil, and while it was to Mr. Calhoun and his friends the theme of endless deprecation, it was secretly cherished as a means of keeping up discord, and forcing the issue between the North and the South. Mr. Calhoun then proceeds to the serious question of disunion, and of the manner in which the issue could be forced.

"This brings up the question, how can it be so met, without resorting to the dissolution of the Union? I say without its dissolution, for, in my opinion, a high and sacred regard for the constitution, as well as the dictates of wisdom, make it our duty in this case, as well as all others, not to resort to, or even to look to that extreme remedy, until all others have failed, and then only in defence of our liberty and safety. There is, in my opinion, but one way in which it can be met; and that is the one indicated in my letter to Mr. – , and to which you allude in yours to me, viz., by retaliation. Why I think so, I shall now proceed to explain."

Then follows an argument to justify retaliation, by representing the constitution as containing provisions, he calls them stipulations, some in favor of the slaveholding, and some in favor of the non-slaveholding States, and the breach of any of which, on one side, authorizes a retaliation on the other; and then declaring that Pennsylvania, and other States, have violated the provision in favor of the slave States in obstructing the recovery of fugitive slaves, he proceeds to explain his remedy – saying:

"There is and can be but one remedy short of disunion, and that is to retaliate on our part, by refusing to fulfil the stipulations in their favor, or such as we may select, as the most efficient. Among these, the right of their ships and commerce to enter and depart from our ports is the most effectual, and can be enforced. That the refusal on their part would justify us to refuse to fulfil on our part those in their favor, is too clear to admit of argument. That it would be effectual in compelling them to fulfil those in our favor can hardly be doubted, when the immense profit they make by trade and navigation out of us is regarded; and also the advantages we would derive from the direct trade it would establish between the rest of the world and our ports."

Retaliation by closing the ports of the State against the commerce of the offending State: and this called a constitutional remedy, and a remedy short of disunion. It is, on the contrary, a flagrant breach of the constitution, and disunion itself, and that at the very point which caused the Union to be formed. Every one acquainted with the history of the formation of the federal constitution, knows that it grew out of the single question of commerce – the necessity of its regulation between the States to prevent them from harassing each other, and with foreign nations to prevent State rivalries for foreign trade. To stop the trade with any State is, therefore, to break the Union with that State; and to give any advantage to a foreign nation over a State, would be to break the constitution again in the fundamental article of its formation; and this is what the retaliatory remedy of commercial non-intercourse arrives at – a double breach of the constitution – one to the prejudice of sister States, the other in favor of foreign nations. For immediately upon this retaliation upon a State, and as a consequence of it, a great foreign trade is to grow up with all the world. The letter proceeds with further instructions upon the manner of executing the retaliation:

"My impression is, that it should be restricted to sea-going vessels, which would leave open the trade of the valley of the Mississippi to New Orleans by river, and to the other Southern cities by railroad; and tend thereby to detach the North-western from the North-eastern States."

This discloses a further feature in the plan of forcing the issue. The North-eastern States were to be excluded from Southern maritime commerce: the North-western States were to be admitted to it by railroad, and also allowed to reach New Orleans by the Mississippi River. And this discrimination in favor of the North-western States was for the purpose of detaching them from the North-east. Detach is the word. And that word signifies to separate, disengage, disunite, part from: so that the scheme of disunion contemplated the inclusion of the North-western States in the Southern division. The State of Missouri was one of the principal of these States, and great efforts were made to gain her over, and to beat down Senator Benton who was an obstacle to that design. The letter concludes by pointing out the only difficulty in the execution of this plan, and showing how to surmount it.

"There is but one practical difficulty in the way; and that is, to give it force, it will require the co-operation of all the slave-holding States lying on the Atlantic Gulf. Without that, it would be ineffective. To get that is the great point, and for that purpose a convention of the Southern States is indispensable. Let that be called, and let it adopt measures to bring about the co-operation, and I would underwrite for the rest. The non-slaveholding States would be compelled to observe the stipulations of the constitution in our favor, or abandon their trade with us, or to take measures to coerce us, which would throw on them the responsibility of dissolving the Union. Which they would choose, I do not think doubtful. Their unbounded avarice would, in the end, control them. Let a convention be called – let it recommend to the slaveholding States to take the course advised, giving, say one year's notice, before the acts of the several States should go into effect, and the issue would fairly be made up, and our safety and triumph certain."

This the only difficulty – the want of a co-operation of all the Southern Atlantic States; and to surmount that, the indispensability of a convention of the Southern States is fully declared. This was going back to the starting point – to the year 1835 – when Mr. Calhoun first took up the slavery agitation in the Senate, and when a convention of the slaveholding States was as much demanded then as now, and that twelve years before the Wilmot Proviso – twelve years before the Pennsylvania unfriendly legislation – twelve years before the insult and outrage to the South, in not permitting them to carry their local laws with them to the territories, for the protection of their slave property. A call of a Southern convention was as much demanded then as now; and such conventions often actually attained: but without accomplishing the object of the prime mover. No step could be got to be taken in those conventions towards dividing and sectionalizing the States, and after a vain reliance upon them for seventeen years, a new method has been fallen upon: and this confidential letter from Mr. Calhoun to a member of the Alabama legislature of 1847, has come to light, to furnish the key which unlocks his whole system of slavery agitation which he commenced in the year 1835. That system was to force issues upon the North under the pretext of self-defence, and to sectionalize the South, preparatory to disunion, through the instrumentality of sectional conventions, composed wholly of delegates from the slaveholding States. Failing in that scheme of accomplishing the purpose, a new one was fallen upon, which will disclose itself in its proper place.

CHAPTER CLXIX.

DEATH OF SILAS WRIGHT, EX-SENATOR AND EX-GOVERNOR OF NEW YORK

He died suddenly, at the early age of fifty-two, and without the sufferings and premonitions which usually accompany the mortal transit from time to eternity. A letter that he was reading, was seen to fall from his hand: a physician was called: in two hours he was dead – apoplexy the cause. Though dying at the age deemed young in a statesman, he had attained all that long life could give – high office, national fame, fixed character, and universal esteem. He had run the career of honors in the State of New York – been representative and senator in Congress – and had refused more offices, and higher, than he ever accepted. He refused cabinet appointments under his fast friend, Mr. Van Buren, and under Mr. Polk, whom he may be said to have elected: he refused a seat on the bench of the federal Supreme Court; he rejected instantly the nomination of 1844 for Vice-President of the United States, when that nomination was the election. He refused to be put in nomination for the presidency. He refused to accept foreign missions. He spent that time in declining office which others did in winning it; and of those he did accept, it might well be said they were "thrust" upon him. Office, not greatness, was thrust upon him. He was born great, and above office, and unwillingly descended to it; and only took it for its burthens, and to satisfy an importunate public demand. Mind, manners, morals, temper, habits, united in him to form the character that was perfect, both in public and private life, and to give the example of a patriot citizen – of a farmer statesman – of which we have read in Cincinnatus and Cato, and seen in Mr. Macon, and some others of their stamp – created by nature – formed in no school: and of which the instances are so rare and long between.

His mind was clear and strong, his judgment solid, his elocution smooth and equable, his speaking always addressed to the understanding, and always enchaining the attention of those who had minds to understand. Grave reasoning was his forte. Argumentation was always the line of his speech. He spoke to the head, not to the passions; and would have been disconcerted to have seen any body laugh, or cry, at any thing he said. His thoughts evolved spontaneously, in natural and proper order, clothed in language of force and clearness; all so naturally and easily conceived that an extemporaneous speech, or the first draught of an intricate report, had all the correctness of a finished composition. His manuscript had no blots – a proof that his mind had none; and he wrote a neat, compact hand, suitable to a clear and solid mind. He came into the Senate, in the beginning of General Jackson's administration, and remained during that of Mr. Van Buren; and took a ready and active part in all the great debates of those eventful times. The ablest speakers of the opposition always had to answer him; and when he answered them, they showed by their anxious concern, that the adversary was upon them whose force they dreaded most. Though taking his full part upon all subjects, yet finance was his particular department, always chairman of that committee, when his party was in power, and by the lucidity of his statements making plain the most intricate moneyed details. He had a just conception of the difference between the functions of the finance committee of the Senate, and the committee of ways and means of the House – so little understood in these latter times: those of the latter founded in the prerogative of the House to originate all revenue bills; those of the former to act upon the propositions from the House, without originating measures which might affect the revenue, so as to coerce either its increase or prevent its reduction. In 1844 he left the Senate, to stand for the governorship of New York; and never did his self-sacrificing temper undergo a stronger trial, or submit to a greater sacrifice. He liked the Senate: he disliked the governorship, even to absolute repugnance. But it was said to him (and truly, as then believed, and afterwards proved) that the State would be lost to Mr. Polk, unless Mr. Wright was associated with him in the canvass: and to this argument he yielded. He stood the canvass for the governorship – carried it – and Mr. Polk with him; and saved the presidential election of that year.

Judgment was the character of Mr. Wright's mind: purity the quality of the heart. Though valuable in the field of debate, he was still more valued at the council table, where sense and honesty are most demanded. General Jackson and Mr. Van Buren relied upon him as one of their safest counsellors. A candor which knew no guile – an integrity which knew no deviation – which worked right on, like a machine governed by a law of which it was unconscious – were the inexorable conditions of his nature, ruling his conduct in every act, public and private. No foul legislation ever emanated from him. The jobber, the speculator, the dealer in false claims, the plunderer, whose scheme required an act of Congress; all these found in his vigilance and perspicacity a detective police, which discovered their designs, and in his integrity a scorn of corruption which kept them at a distance from the purity of his atmosphere.

His temper was gentle – his manners simple – his intercourse kindly – his habits laborious – and rich upon a freehold of thirty acres, in much part cultivated by his own hand. In the intervals of senatorial duties this man, who refused cabinet appointments and presidential honors, and a seat upon the Supreme Bench – who measured strength with Clay, Webster, and Calhoun, and on whose accents admiring Senates hung: this man, his neat suit of broadcloth and fine linen exchanged for the laborer's dress, might be seen in the harvest field, or meadow, carrying the foremost row, and doing the cleanest work: and this not as recreation or pastime, or encouragement to others, but as work, which was to count in the annual cultivation, and labor to be felt in the production of the needed crop. His principles were democratic, and innate, founded in a feeling, still more than a conviction, that the masses were generally right in their sentiments, though sometimes wrong in their action; and that there was less injury to the country from the honest mistakes of the people, than from the interested schemes of corrupt and intriguing politicians. He was born in Massachusetts, came to man's estate in New York, received from that State the only honors he would accept; and in choosing his place of residence in it gave proof of his modest, retiring, unpretending nature. Instead of following his profession in the commercial or political capital of his State, where there would be demand and reward for his talent, he constituted himself a village lawyer where there was neither, and pertinaciously refused to change his locality. In an outside county, on the extreme border of the State, taking its name of St. Lawrence from the river which washed its northern side, and divided the United States from British America – and in one of the smallest towns of that county, and in one of the least ambitious houses of that modest town, lived and died this patriot statesman – a good husband (he had no children) – a good neighbor – a kind relative – a fast friend – exact and punctual in every duty, and the exemplification of every social and civic virtue.