[IN the year 1816, as the term of president Madison was
about to expire the following year, a caucus of the democratic
members of congress was held, in conformity to previous custom,
to designate a candidate to succeed Mr. Madison, as president.
It being the general impression and understanding that Mr.
Monroe would be nominated, much surprise was felt when it was
ascertained that he had received only a small majority in the
caucus――the votes standing thus; for James Monroe sixty-five,
for William H. Crawford fifty-four. In consequence of this
circumstance it was evident that the popular will with regard
to nominations might be defeated by caucus management, and a
powerful opposition to nominations of president by members of
congress grew up, previous to the election of a successor to
Mr. Monroe. It was ascertained that Mr. Crawford, then secretary
of the treasury, would be the caucus candidate in 1824, and the
people began to look around for candidates to oppose him. John
Quincy Adams, Andrew Jackson, Henry Clay, and John C. Calhoun,
were each warmly advocated by their friends for the succession.
Mr. Calhoun was withdrawn and supported for vice-president,
to which office he was elected. Neither of the other four
candidates being withdrawn, and Mr. Crawford having been
nominated by a minority of only sixty-six members of congress,
in caucus, it became evident that no election would be made
by the people. The result was, that general Jackson received
ninety-nine electoral votes, Mr. Adams eighty-four, Mr. Crawford
forty-one, and Mr. Clay thirty-seven. The constitution requiring
that the house of representatives should now choose the president,
from the three highest names on the list, (Mr. Clay being
excluded,) the greatest interest was felt by the friends of all
the candidates, as to the course which would be pursued by Mr.
Clay and his friends in the house, of which he was then speaker.
It was soon known, as he had previously declared, that he would
vote for Mr. Adams, which he did, and that gentleman was elected
president. A cry of ‘bargain and corruption’ was thereupon set
up by the disappointed and zealous partisans of general Jackson,
in which they were joined by some of the friends of Mr. Crawford.
This charge having been agitated by members of congress at
Washington, and reiterated in other quarters, was indignantly
repelled by Mr. Clay, and in refutation he issued the following
address to his constituents in Kentucky, composed of the people
of the counties of Fayette, Woodford, and Clarke.]
THE relations of your representative and of your neighbor, in which
I have so long stood, and in which I have experienced so many strong
proofs of your confidence, attachment, and friendship, having just
been, the one terminated, and the other suspended, I avail myself
of the occasion on taking, I hope a temporary, leave of you, to
express my unfeigned gratitude for all your favors, and to assure
you, that I shall cherish a fond and unceasing recollection of them.
The extraordinary circumstances in which, during the late session of
congress, I have been placed, and the unmerited animadversions which
I have brought upon myself, for an honest and faithful discharge of
my public duty, form an additional motive for this appeal to your
candor and justice. If, in the office which I have just left, I have
abused your confidence and betrayed your interests, I cannot deserve
your support in that on the duties of which I have now entered. On
the contrary, should it appear that I have been assailed without just
cause, and that misguided zeal and interested passions have singled
me out as a victim, I cannot doubt that I shall continue to find, in
the enlightened tribunal of the public, that cheering countenance and
impartial judgment, without which a public servant cannot possibly
discharge with advantage the trust confided to him.
It is known to you, that my name had been presented, by the respectable
states of Ohio, Kentucky, Louisiana, and Missouri, for the office of
president, to the consideration of the American public, and that it had
attracted some attention in other quarters of the union. When, early
in November last, I took my departure from the district to repair to
this city, the issue of the presidential election before the people
was unknown. Events, however, had then so far transpired as to render
it highly probable that there would be no election by the people, and
that I should be excluded from the house of representatives. It became,
therefore, my duty to consider, and to make up an opinion on, the
respective pretensions of the three gentlemen who might be returned,
and at that early period I stated to Dr. Drake, one of the professors
in the medical school of Transylvania university, and to John J.
Crittenden, esquire, of Frankfort, my determination to support Mr.
Adams in preference to general Jackson. I wrote to Charles Hammond,
esquire, of Cincinnati, about the same time, and mentioned certain
objections to the election of Mr. Crawford, (among which was that of
his continued ill health,) that appeared to me almost insuperable.
During my journey hither, and up to near christmas, it remained
uncertain whether Mr. Crawford or myself would be returned to the
house of representatives. Up to near christmas, all our information
made it highly probable that the vote of Louisiana would be given to
me, and that I should consequently be returned, to the exclusion of
Mr. Crawford. And, while that probability was strong, I communicated
to Mr. senator Johnston, from Louisiana, my resolution not to allow my
name, in consequence of the small number of votes by which it would be
carried into the house, if I were returned, to constitute an obstacle,
for one moment, to an election in the house of representatives.
During the month of December, and the greater part of January, strong
professions of high consideration, and of unbounded admiration of me,
were made to my friends, in the greatest profusion, by some of the
active friends of all the returned candidates. Every body professed
to regret, after I was excluded from the house, that I had not been
returned to it. I seemed to be the favorite of every body. Describing
my situation to a distant friend, I said to him, ‘I am enjoying, whilst
alive, the posthumous honors which are usually awarded to the venerated
dead.’ A person not acquainted with human nature would have been
surprised, in listening to these praises, that the object of them
had not been elected by general acclamation. None made more or warmer
manifestations of these sentiments of esteem and admiration than some
of the friends of general Jackson. None were so reserved as those of
Mr. Adams; under an opinion, (as I have learned since the election,)
which they early imbibed, that the western vote would be only
influenced by its own sense of public duty; and that if its judgment
pointed to any other than Mr. Adams, nothing which they could do would
secure it to him. These professions and manifestations were taken by
me for what they were worth. I knew that the sunbeams would quickly
disappear, after my opinion should be ascertained, and that they
would be succeeded by a storm; although I did not foresee exactly
how it would burst upon my poor head. I found myself transformed
from a candidate before the people, into an elector for the people.
I deliberately examined the duties incident to this new attitude,
and weighed all the facts before me, upon which my judgment was to be
formed or reviewed. If the eagerness of any of the heated partisans of
the respective candidates suggested a tardiness in the declaration of
my intention, I believed that the new relation in which I was placed
to the subject, imposed on me an obligation to pay some respect to
delicacy and decorum.
Meanwhile, that very reserve supplied aliment to newspaper criticism.
The critics could not comprehend how a man standing as I had stood
towards the other gentlemen, should be restrained, by a sense of
propriety, from instantly fighting under the banners of one of
them, against the others. Letters were issued from the manufactory
at Washington, to come back, after performing long journeys, for
Washington consumption. These letters imputed to ‘Mr. Clay and his
friends a mysterious air, a portentous silence,’ and so forth. From
dark and distant hints the progress was easy to open and bitter
denunciation. Anonymous letters, full of menace and abuse, were
almost daily poured in on me. Personal threats were communicated
to me, through friendly organs, and I was kindly apprized of all the
glories of village effigies which awaited me. A systematic attack was
simultaneously commenced upon me from Boston to Charleston, with an
object, present and future, which it was impossible to mistake. No
man but myself could know the nature, extent, and variety, of means
which were employed to awe and influence me. I bore them, I trust, as
_your_ representative ought to have borne them, and as became me. Then
followed the letter, afterwards adopted as his own, by Mr. Kremer, to
the Columbian Observer. With its character and contents you are well
acquainted. When I saw that letter, alleged to be written by a member
of the very house over which I was presiding, who was so far designated
as to be described as belonging to a particular delegation by name,
a member with whom I might be daily exchanging, at least on my part,
friendly salutations, and who was possibly receiving from me constantly
acts of courtesy and kindness, I felt that I could no longer remain
silent. A crisis appeared to me to have arisen in my public life.
I issued my card. I ought not to have put in it the last paragraph,
because, although it does not necessarily imply the resort to a
personal combat, it admits of that construction; nor will I conceal
that such a possible issue was within my contemplation. I owe it to
the community to say, that whatever heretofore I may have done, or, by
inevitable circumstances, might be forced to do, no man in it holds in
deeper abhorrence than I do, that pernicious practice. Condemned as it
must be by the judgment and philosophy, to say nothing of the religion,
of every thinking man, it is an affair of feeling about which we cannot,
although we should, reason. Its true corrective will be found when all
shall unite, as all ought to unite, in its unqualified proscription.
A few days after the publication of my card, ‘another card,’ under
Mr. Kremer’s name, was published in the Intelligencer. The night before,
as I was voluntarily informed, Mr. Eaton, a senator from Tennessee,
and the biographer of general Jackson, (who boarded in the end of
this city opposite to that in which Mr. Kremer took up his abode, a
distance of about two miles and a half,) was closeted for some time
with him. Mr. Kremer is entitled to great credit for having overcome
all the disadvantages, incident to his early life and want of education,
and forced his way to the honorable station of a member of the house
of representatives. Ardent in his attachment to the cause which he
had espoused, general Jackson is his idol, and of his blind zeal
others have availed themselves, and have made him their dupe and their
instrument. I do not pretend to know the object of Mr. Eaton’s visit
to him. I state the fact, as it was communicated to me, and leave
you to judge. Mr. Kremer’s card is composed with some care and no
little art, and he is made to avow in it, though somewhat equivocally,
that he is the author of the letter to the Columbian Observer. To
Mr. Crowninshield, a member from Massachusetts, formerly secretary
of the navy, he declared that he was not the author of that letter.
In his card he draws a clear line of separation between my friends
and me, acquitting them, and undertaking to make good his charges
in that letter, only so far as I was concerned. The purpose of this
discrimination is obvious. At that time the election was undecided,
and it was therefore as important to abstain from imputations against
my friends, as it was politic to fix them upon me. If they could be
made to believe that I had been perfidious, in the transport of their
indignation, they might have been carried to the support of general
Jackson. I received the National Intelligencer, containing Mr. Kremer’s
card, at breakfast, (the usual time of its distribution,) on the
morning of its publication. As soon as I read the card, I took my
resolution. The terms of it clearly implied that it had not entered
into his conception to have a personal affair with me; and I should
have justly exposed myself to universal ridicule, if I had sought
one with _him_. I determined to lay the matter before the house, and
respectfully to invite an investigation of my conduct. I accordingly
made a communication to the house on the same day, the motives for
which I assigned. Mr. Kremer was in his place, and, when I sat down,
rose and stated that he was prepared and willing to substantiate his
charges against me. This was his voluntary declaration, unprompted
by his aiders and abettors, who had no opportunity of previous
consultation with him on that point. Here was an issue publicly
and solemnly joined, in which the accused invoked an inquiry into
serious charges against him, and the accuser professed an ability and
a willingness to establish them. A debate ensued on the next day which
occupied the greater part of it, during which Mr. Kremer declared
to Mr. Brent, of Louisiana, a friend of mine, and to Mr. Little, of
Maryland, a friend of general Jackson, as they have certified, ‘that he
never intended to charge Mr. Clay with corruption or dishonor, in his
intended vote for Mr. Adams, as president, or that he had transferred,
or could transfer, the votes or interests of his friends; that he
(Mr. Kremer) was among the last men in the nation to make such a charge
_against Mr. Clay_; and that his letter was never intended to convey
the idea given to it.’ Mr. Digges, a highly respectable inhabitant of
this city, has certified to the same declarations of Mr. Kremer.
A message was also conveyed to me, during the discussion, through
a member of the house, to ascertain if I would be satisfied with an
explanation which was put on paper and shown me, and which it was
stated Mr. Kremer was willing, in his place, to make. I replied that
the matter was in the possession of the house. I was afterwards told,
that Mr. Ingham, of Pennsylvania, got hold of that paper, put it in
his pocket, and that he advised Mr. Kremer to take no step without the
approbation of his friends. Mr. Cook, of Illinois, moved an adjournment
of the house, on information which he received of the probability of
Mr. Kremer’s making a satisfactory atonement on the next day, for the
injury which he had done me, which I have no doubt he would have made,
if he had been left to the impulses of his native honesty. The house
decided to refer my communication to a committee, and adjourned until
the next day to appoint it by ballot. In the mean time Mr. Kremer had
taken, I presume, or rather there had been forced upon him, the advice
of _his friends_, and I heard no more of the apology. A committee was
appointed of seven gentlemen, of whom not one was my political friend,
but who were among the most eminent members of the body. I received no
summons or notification from the committee from its first organization
to its final dissolution, but Mr. Kremer was called upon by it to
bring forward his proofs. For one moment be pleased to stop here and
contemplate his posture, his relation to the house and to me, and
the high obligations under which he had voluntarily placed himself.
He was a member of one of the most august assemblies upon earth,
of which he was bound to defend the purity or expose the corruption
by every consideration which ought to influence a patriot bosom. A
most responsible and highly important constitutional duty was to be
performed by that assembly. He had chosen, in an anonymous letter, to
bring against its presiding officer charges, in respect to that duty,
of the most flagitious character. These charges comprehend delegations
from several highly respectable states. If true, that presiding officer
merited not merely to be dragged from the chair, but to be expelled the
house. He challenges an investigation into his conduct, and Mr. Kremer
boldly accepts the challenge, and promises to sustain his accusation.
The committee appointed by the house itself, with the common consent
of both parties, calls upon Mr. Kremer to execute his pledge publicly
given, in his proper place, and also previously given in the public
prints. Here is the theatre of the alleged arrangements; this the
vicinage in which the trial ought to take place. Every thing was here
fresh in the recollection of the witnesses, if there were any. Here
all the proofs were concentrated. Mr. Kremer was stimulated by every
motive which could impel to action; by his consistency of character;
by duty to his constituents, to his country; by that of redeeming his
solemn pledge; by his anxious wish for the success of his favorite,
whose interests could not fail to be advanced by supporting his
atrocious charges. But Mr. Kremer had now the benefit of the advice
of his friends. He had no proofs, for the plainest of all reasons,
because there was no truth in his charges. They saw that to attempt
to establish them and to fail, as he must fail in the attempt, might
lead to an exposure of the conspiracy, of which he was the organ. They
advised, therefore, that he should make a retreat, and their adroitness
suggested, that in an objection to that jurisdiction of the house,
which had been admitted, and in the popular topics of the freedom
of the press, _his_ duty to his constituents, and the inequality in
the condition of the speaker of the house, and a member on the floor,
plausible means might be found to deceive the ignorant and conceal his
disgrace. A labored communication was accordingly prepared by them, in
Mr. Kremer’s name, and transmitted to the committee, founded upon these
suggestions. Thus the valiant champion, who had boldly stepped forward,
and promised, as a representative of _the_ people, to ‘cry aloud and
spare not,’ forgot all his gratuitous gallantry and boasted patriotism,
and sank at once into profound silence.
With these remarks, I will for the present leave him, and proceed
to assign the reasons to you, to whom alone I admit myself to be
officially responsible, for the vote which I gave on the presidential
election. The first inquiry which it behooved me to make was, as to
the influence which ought to be exerted on my judgment, by the relative
slate of the electoral votes which the three returned candidates
brought into the house from the colleges. General Jackson obtained
ninety-nine, Mr. Adams eighty-four, and Mr. Crawford forty-one. Ought
the fact of a plurality being given to one of the candidates to have
any, and what, weight? If the constitution had intended that it should
have been decisive, the constitution would have made it decisive, and
interdicted the exercise of any discretion, on the part of the house
of representatives. The constitution has not so ordained, but, on the
contrary, it has provided, that ‘from the persons having the highest
numbers, not exceeding three, on the list of those voted for as
president, the house of representatives shall _choose_, immediately, by
ballot, a president.’ Thus a discretion is necessarily invested in the
house; for choice implies examination, comparison, judgment. The fact,
therefore, that one of the three persons was the highest returned, not
being, by the constitution of the country, conclusive upon the judgment
of the house, it still remains to determine what is the true degree of
weight belonging to it? It has been contended that it should operate,
if not as an instruction, at least in the nature of one, and that in
this form it should control the judgment of the house. But this is
the same argument of conclusiveness which the constitution does not
enjoin, thrown into a different but more imposing shape. Let me analyze
it. There are certain states, the aggregate of whose electoral votes
conferred upon the highest returned candidate, indicate their wish that
he should be the president. Their votes amount in number to ninety-nine,
out of two hundred and sixty-one electoral votes of the whole union.
These ninety-nine do not, and cannot, of themselves, make the president.
If the fact of particular states giving ninety-nine votes, can,
according to any received notions of the doctrine of instruction, be
regarded in that light, to whom are those instructions to be considered
addressed? According to that doctrine, the people who appoint, have the
right to direct, by their instruction, in certain cases, the course of
the representative whom they appoint. The states, therefore, who gave
those ninety-nine votes, may in some sense be understood thereby to
have instructed _their_ representatives in the house to vote for the
person on whom they were bestowed, in the choice of a president. But
most clearly the representatives coming from other states, which gave
no part of those ninety-nine votes, cannot be considered as having
been under any obligation to surrender their judgments to those of
the states which gave the ninety-nine votes. To contend that they are
under such an obligation, would be to maintain that the people of one
state have a right to instruct the representatives from another state.
It would be to maintain a still more absurd proposition; that in a
case where the representatives from a state did not hold themselves
instructed and bound by the will of that state, as indicated in
its electoral college, the representatives from another state were,
nevertheless, instructed and bound by that alien will. Thus the entire
vote of North Carolina, and a large majority of that of Maryland,
in their respective electoral colleges, were given to one of the
three returned candidates, for whom the delegation from neither of
those states voted. And yet the argument combated requires that the
delegation from Kentucky, who do not represent the people of North
Carolina nor Maryland, should be instructed by, and give an effect
to, the indicated will of the people of those two states, when their
own delegation paid no attention to it. Doubtless, those delegations
felt themselves authorized to look into the actual composition of,
and all other circumstances connected with, the majorities which gave
the electoral votes, in their respective states; and felt themselves
justified, from a view of the whole ground, to act upon their
responsibility, and according to their best judgments, disregarding
the electoral votes in their states. And are representatives from a
different state not only bound by the will of the people of a different
commonwealth, but forbidden to examine into the manner by which the
expression of that will was brought about――an examination which the
immediate representatives themselves, feel it their duty to make?
Is the fact, then, of a plurality to have no weight? Far from it.
Here are twenty-four communities united under a common government.
The expression of the will of any one of them is entitled to the
most respectful attention. It ought to be patiently heard and kindly
regarded by the others; but it cannot be admitted to be conclusive upon
them. The expression of the will of ninety-nine out of two hundred and
sixty-one electors, is entitled to very great attention, but that will
cannot be considered as entitled to control the will of the one hundred
and sixty-two electors who have manifested a different will. To give
it such controlling influence, would be a subversion of the fundamental
maxim of the republic――that the majority should govern. The will of the
ninety-nine can neither be allowed rightfully to control the remaining
one hundred and sixty-two, nor any one of the one hundred and sixty-two
electoral votes. It may be an argument, a persuasion, addressed to
all and to each of them, but it is binding and obligatory upon none.
It follows, then, that the fact of a plurality was only one among
the various considerations which the house was called upon to weigh,
in making up its judgment. And the weight of the consideration ought
to have been regulated by the extent of the plurality. As between
general Jackson and Mr. Adams, the vote standing in the proportions of
ninety-nine to eighty-four, it was entitled to less weight; as between
the general and Mr. Crawford, it was entitled to more, the vote being
as ninety-nine to forty-one. The concession may even be made that,
upon the supposition of an equality of pretensions between competing
candidates, the preponderance ought to be given to the fact of a
plurality.
With these views of the relative state of the vote with which the three
returned candidates entered the house, I proceeded to examine the other
considerations which belonged to the question. For Mr. Crawford, who
barely entered the house, with only four votes more than one candidate
not returned, and upon whose case, therefore, the argument derived
from the fact of plurality operated with strong, though not decisive
force, I have ever felt much personal regard. But I was called upon
to perform a solemn public duty, in which my private feelings, whether
of affection or aversion, were not to be indulged, but the good of my
country only consulted. It appeared to me that the precarious state of
that gentleman’s health, although I participated with his best friends
in all their regrets and sympathies on account of it, was conclusive
against him, to say nothing of other considerations of a public nature,
which would have deserved examination if, happily, in that respect
he had been differently circumstanced. He had been ill near eighteen
months; and, although I am aware that his actual condition was a fact
depending upon evidence, and that the evidence in regard to it, which
had been presented to the public, was not perfectly harmonious, I
judged for myself upon what I saw and heard. He may, and I ardently
hope will, recover; but I did not think it became me to assist in
committing the executive administration of this great republic, on the
doubtful contingency of the restoration to health of a gentleman who
had been so long and so seriously afflicted. Moreover, if, under all
the circumstances of his situation, his election had been desirable, I
did not think it practicable. I believed, and yet believe, that, if the
votes of the western states, given to Mr. Adams, had been conferred on
Mr. Crawford, the effect would have been to protract in the house the
decision of the contest, to the great agitation and distraction of the
country, and possibly to defeat an election altogether; the very worst
result, I thought, that could happen. It appeared to me, then, that,
sooner or later, we must arrive at the only practical issue of the
contest before us, and that was between Mr. Adams and general Jackson,
and I thought that the earlier we got there, the better for the country,
and for the house.
In considering this only alternative, I was not unaware of your strong
desire to have a western president; but I thought that I knew enough
of your patriotism and magnanimity, displayed on so many occasions, to
believe that you could rise above the mere gratification of sectional
pride, if the common good of the whole required you to make the
sacrifice of local partiality. I solemnly believed it did, and this
brings me to the most important consideration which belonged to the
whole subject――that arising out of the respective fitness of the only
two real competitors, as it appeared to my best judgment. In speaking
of general Jackson, I am aware of the delicacy and respect which are
justly due to that distinguished citizen. It is far from my purpose to
attempt to disparage him. I could not do it if I were capable of making
the attempt; but I shall nevertheless speak of him, as becomes me, with
truth. I did not believe him so competent to discharge the various,
intricate, and complex duties of the office of chief magistrate, as
his competitor. He has displayed great skill and bravery, as a military
commander, and his own renown will endure as long as the means exist of
preserving a recollection of human transactions. But to be qualified to
discharge the duties of president of the United States, the incumbent
must have more than mere military attainments――he must be a STATESMAN.
An individual may be a gallant and successful general, an eminent
lawyer, an eloquent divine, a learned physician, or an accomplished
artist; and doubtless the union of all these characters in the person
of a chief magistrate would be desirable, but no one of them, nor all
combined, will qualify him to be president, unless he superadds that
indispensable requisite of being a statesman. Far from meaning to say
that it is an objection to the elevation to the chief magistracy of
any person, that he is a military commander, if he unites the other
qualifications, I only intend to say that, whatever may be the success
or splendor of his military achievements, if his qualifications be
_only_ military, that is an objection, and I think a decisive objection,
to his election. If general Jackson has exhibited, either in the
councils of the union, or in those of his own state, or in those of any
other state or territory, the qualities of a statesman, the evidence
of the fact has escaped my observation. It would be as painful as it is
unnecessary, to recapitulate some of the incidents, which must be fresh
in your recollection, of his public life. But I was greatly deceived in
my judgment if they proved him to be endowed with that prudence, temper,
and discretion, which are necessary for civil administration. It was
in vain to remind me of the illustrious example of Washington. There
was in that extraordinary person, united, a serenity of mind, a cool
and collected wisdom, a cautious and deliberate judgment, a perfect
command of the passions, and, throughout his whole life, a familiarity
and acquaintance with business, and civil transactions, which rarely
characterize any human being. No man was ever more deeply penetrated
than he was, with profound respect for the safe and necessary principle
of the entire subordination of the military to the civil authority.
I hope I do no injustice to general Jackson when I say, that I could
not recognise, in his public conduct, those attainments, for both civil
government and military command, which contemporaries and posterity
have alike unanimously concurred in awarding as yet only to the father
of his country. I was sensible of the gratitude which the people of
this country justly feel towards general Jackson, for his brilliant
military services. But the impulses of public gratitude should be
controlled, as it appeared to me, by reason and discretion, and I was
not prepared blindly to surrender myself to the hazardous indulgence
of a feeling, however amiable and excellent that feeling may be, when
properly directed. It did not seem to me to be wise or prudent, if,
as I solemnly believe, general Jackson’s competency for the office
was highly questionable, that he should be placed in a situation where
neither his fame nor the public interests would be advanced. General
Jackson himself would be the last man to recommend or vote for any one
for a place for which he thought him unfit. I felt myself sustained by
his own reasoning, in his letter to Mr. Monroe, in which, speaking of
the qualifications of our venerable Shelby for the department of war,
he remarked: ‘I am compelled to say to you, that the acquirements of
this worthy man are not competent to the discharge of the multiplied
duties of this department. I therefore hope he may not accept the
appointment. I am fearful, if he does, he will not add much splendor
to his present well-earned standing as a public character.’ Such
was my opinion of general Jackson, in reference to the presidency.
His conviction of governor Shelby’s unfitness, by the habits of his
life, for the appointment of secretary of war, were not more honest
nor stronger than mine were of his own want of experience, and the
necessary civil qualifications to discharge the duties of a president
of the United States. In his elevation to this office, too, I thought
I perceived the establishment of a fearful precedent; and I am mistaken
in all the warnings of instructive history, if I erred in my judgment.
Undoubtedly there are other and many dangers to public liberty, besides
that which proceeds from military idolatry; but I have yet to acquire
the knowledge of it, if there be one more perilous, or more frequent.
Whether Mr. Adams would or would not have been my choice of a
president, if I had been left freely to select from the whole mass of
American citizens, was not the question submitted to my decision. I
had no such liberty; but I was circumscribed, in the selection I had
to make, to one of the three gentlemen whom the people themselves had
thought proper to present to the house of representatives. Whatever
objections might be supposed to exist against him, still greater
appeared to me to apply to his competitor. Of Mr. Adams, it is but
truth and justice to say, that he is highly gifted, profoundly learned,
and long and greatly experienced in public affairs, at home and abroad.
Intimately conversant with the rise and progress of every negotiation
with foreign powers, pending or concluded; personally acquainted with
the capacity and attainments of most of the public men of this country,
whom it might be proper to employ in the public service; extensively
possessed of much of that valuable kind of information which is to be
acquired neither from books nor tradition, but which is the fruit of
largely participating in public affairs; discreet and sagacious; he
would enter upon the duties of the office with great advantages. I saw
in his election the establishment of no dangerous example. I saw in
it, on the contrary, only conformity to the safe precedents which had
been established in the instances of Mr. Jefferson, Mr. Madison, and
Mr. Monroe, who had respectively filled the same office from which he
was to be translated.
A collateral consideration of much weight, was derived from the wishes
of the Ohio delegation. A majority of it, during the progress of the
session, made up their opinions to support Mr. Adams, and they were
communicated to me. They said, ‘Ohio supported the candidate who was
the choice of Kentucky. We failed in our common exertions to secure his
election. Now, among those returned, we have a decided preference, and
we think you ought to make some sacrifice to gratify us.’ Was not much
due to our neighbor and friend?
I considered, with the greatest respect, the resolution of the general
assembly of Kentucky, requesting the delegation to vote for general
Jackson. That resolution, it is true, placed us in a peculiar situation.
Whilst every other delegation, from every other state in the union, was
left by its legislature entirely free to examine the pretensions of all
the candidates, and to form its unbiased judgment, the general assembly
of Kentucky thought proper to interpose, and request the delegation
to give its vote to one of the candidates, whom they were pleased to
designate. I felt a sincere desire to comply with a request emanating
from a source so respectable, if I could have done so consistently with
those paramount duties which I owed to you and to the country. But,
after full and anxious consideration, I found it incompatible with my
best judgment of those duties, to conform to the request of the general
assembly. The resolution asserts, that it was the wish of the people
of Kentucky, that their delegation should vote for the general. It did
not inform me by what means that body had arrived at a knowledge of the
wish of the people. I knew that its members had repaired to Frankfort
before I departed from home to come to Washington. I knew that their
attention was fixed on important local concerns, well entitled, by
their magnitude, exclusively to engross it. No election, no general
expression of the popular sentiment, had occurred since that in
November, when electors were chosen, and at that the people, by an
overwhelming majority, had decided against general Jackson. I could
not see how such an expression _against_ him, could be interpreted into
that of a desire _for_ his election. If, as is true, the candidate whom
they preferred was not returned to the house, it is equally true that
the _state_ of the contest, as it presented itself here to me, had
never been considered, discussed, and decided by the people of Kentucky,
in their collective capacity. What would have been their decision on
this _new_ state of the question, I might have undertaken to conjecture,
but the certainty of any conclusion of fact, as to their opinion,
at which I could arrive, was by no means equal to that certainty of
conviction of my duty to which I was carried by the exertion of my
best and most deliberate reflections. The letters from home, which
some of the delegation received, expressed the most opposite opinions,
and there were not wanting instances of letters from some of the very
members who had voted for that resolution, advising a different course.
I received from a highly respectable portion of my constituents a paper,
instructing me as follows:
‘We, the undersigned voters in the congressional district,
having viewed the instruction or request of the legislature
of Kentucky, on the subject of choosing a president and
vice-president of the United States, with regret, and the said
request or instruction to our representative in congress from
this district being without our knowledge or consent, we, for
many reasons known to ourselves, connected with so momentous
an occasion, hereby _instruct_ our representative in congress
to vote on this occasion agreeably to his own judgment, and
the best lights he may have on the subject, with or without
the consent of the legislature of Kentucky.’
This instruction came both unexpectedly and unsolicited by me, and it
was accompanied by letters assuring me that it expressed the opinion
of a majority of my constituents. I could not, _therefore_, regard the
resolution as conclusive evidence of your wishes.
Viewed as a mere request, as it purported to be, the general assembly
doubtless had the power to make it. But, then, with deference, I think
it was worthy of serious consideration, whether the dignity of the
general assembly ought not to have induced it to forbear addressing
itself, not to another legislative body, but to a small part of it,
and requesting the members who composed that part, in a case which
the constitution had confided to them, to vote according to the wishes
of the general assembly, whether those wishes did or did not conform
to their sense of duty. I could not regard the resolution as an
instruction; for, from the origin of our state, its legislature has
never assumed or exercised the right to instruct the representatives in
congress. I did not recognise the right, therefore, of the legislature,
to instruct me. I recognised that right only when exerted by you. That
the portion of the public servants who made up the general assembly,
have no right to instruct that portion of them who constituted the
Kentucky delegation in the house of representatives, is a proposition
too clear to be argued. The members of the general assembly would
have been the first to behold as a presumptuous interposition, any
instruction, if the Kentucky delegation could have committed the
absurdity to issue, from this place, any instruction to them to vote
in a particular manner on any of the interesting subjects which lately
engaged their attention at Frankfort. And although nothing is further
from my intention than to impute either absurdity or presumption to the
general assembly, in the adoption of the resolution referred to, I must
say, that the difference between an instruction emanating from them to
the delegation, and from the delegation to them, is not in principle,
but is to be found only in the degree of superior importance which
belongs to the general assembly.
Entertaining these views of the election on which it was made my duty
to vote, I felt myself bound, in the exercise of my best judgment, to
prefer Mr. Adams; and I accordingly voted for him. I should have been
highly gratified if it had not been my duty to vote on the occasion;
but that was not my situation, and I did not choose to shrink from
any responsibility which appertained to your representative. Shortly
after the election, it was rumored that Mr. Kremer was preparing a
publication, and the preparations for it which were making excited much
expectation. Accordingly, on the twenty-sixth of February, the address,
under his name, to the ‘electors of the ninth congressional district
of the state of Pennsylvania,’ made its appearance in the Washington
City Gazette. No member of the house, I am persuaded, believed that Mr.
Kremer ever wrote one paragraph of that address, or of the plea, which
was presented to the committee, to the jurisdiction of the house. Those
who counselled him, and composed both papers, and their purposes, were
just as well known as the author of any report from a committee to the
house. The first observation which is called for by the address is the
place of its publication. That place was in this city, remote from the
centre of Pennsylvania, near which Mr. Kremer’s district is situated,
and in a paper having but a very limited, if any circulation in it.
The time is also remarkable. The fact that the president intended
to nominate me to the senate for the office which I now hold, in the
course of a few days, was then well known, and the publication of
the address was, no doubt, made less with an intention to communicate
information to the electors of the ninth congressional district of
Pennsylvania, than to affect the decision of the senate on the intended
nomination. Of the character and contents of that address of Messrs.
George Kremer & Co., made up, as it is, of assertion without proof,
of inferences without premises, and of careless, jocose, and quizzing
conversations of some of my friends, to which I was no party, and of
which I had never heard, it is not my intention to say much. It carried
its own refutation, and the parties concerned saw its abortive nature
the next day, in the indignant countenance of every unprejudiced and
honorable member. In his card, Mr. Kremer had been made to say, that he
held himself ready ‘to prove, to the satisfaction of unprejudiced minds,
enough to satisfy them of the accuracy of the statements which are
contained in that letter, _to the extent that they concerned the course
of conduct of H. Clay_.’ The object for excluding my friends from this
pledge has been noticed. But now the election was decided, and there no
longer existed a motive for discrimination between them and me. Hence
the only statements that are made, in the address, having the semblance
of proof, relate rather to them than to me; and the design was, by
establishing something like facts upon them, to make those facts react
upon me.
Of the few topics of the address upon which I shall remark, the
first is, the accusation brought forward against me, of violating
instructions. If the accusation were true, who was the party offended,
and to whom I was amenable? If I violated any instructions, they must
have been yours, since you only had the right to give them, and to
you alone was I responsible. Without allowing hardly time for you to
hear of my vote, without waiting to know what your judgment was of my
conduct, George Kremer & Co. chose to arraign me before the American
public as the violater of instructions which I was bound to obey.
If, instead of being, as you are, and I hope always will be, vigilant
observers of the conduct of your public agents, jealous of your rights,
and competent to protect and defend them, you had been ignorant and
culpably confiding, the gratuitous interposition, as your advocate,
of the honorable George Kremer, of the ninth congressional district in
Pennsylvania, would have merited your most grateful acknowledgments.
Even upon that supposition, his arraignment of me would have required
for its support one small circumstance, which happens not to exist,
and that is, the fact of your having actually instructed me to vote
according to his pleasure.
The relations in which I stood to Mr. Adams constitute the next
theme of the address, which I shall notice. I am described as having
assumed ‘a position of peculiar and decided hostility to the election
of Mr. Adams,’ and expressions towards him are attributed to me, which
I never used. I am also made responsible for ‘pamphlets and essays
of great ability,’ published by my friends in Kentucky in the course
of the canvass. The injustice of the principle of holding me thus
answerable, may be tested by applying it to the case of general Jackson,
in reference to publications issued, for example, from the Columbia
Observer. That I was not in favor of the election of Mr. Adams, when
the contest was before the people, is most certain. Neither was I in
favor of that of Mr. Crawford or general Jackson. That I ever did any
thing against Mr. Adams, or either of the other gentlemen, inconsistent
with a fair and honorable competition, I utterly deny. My relations
to Mr. Adams have been the subject of much misconception, if not
misrepresentation. I have been stated to be under a public pledge to
expose some nefarious conduct of that gentleman, during the negotiation
at Ghent, which would prove him to be entirely unworthy of public
confidence; and that, with the knowledge of his perfidy, I nevertheless
voted for him. If these imputations are well founded, I should, indeed,
be a fit object of public censure; but if, on the contrary, it shall
be found that others, inimical both to him and to me, have substituted
their own interested wishes for my public promises, I trust that
the indignation, which they would excite, will be turned from me. My
letter, addressed to the editors of the Intelligencer, under date of
the fifteenth of November, 1822, is made the occasion for ascribing
to me the promise and the pledge to make those treasonable disclosures
on Mr. Adams. Let that letter speak for itself, and it will be seen
how little justice there is for such an assertion. It adverts to the
controversy which had arisen between Messrs. Adams and Russell, and
then proceeds to state that, ‘in the course of several publications,
of which it has been the occasion, and particularly in the appendix
to a pamphlet, which had been recently published by the honorable John
Quincy Adams, I think there are some errors, no doubt unintentional,
both as to matters of fact and matters of opinion, in regard to the
transactions at Ghent, relating to the navigation of the Mississippi,
and certain liberties claimed by the United States in the fisheries,
_and to the part which I bore in those transactions_. These important
interests are now well secured.’ ‘An account, therefore, of what
occurred in the negotiation at Ghent, on those _two_ subjects, is not,
perhaps, necessary to the present or future security of any of the
rights of the nation, and is _only_ interesting as appertaining to its
_past_ history. With these impressions, and being extremely unwilling
to present myself, at any time, before the public, I had _almost_
resolved to remain silent, and thus expose myself to the inference
of an acquiescence in the correctness of all the statements made by
both my colleagues; but I have, on more reflection, thought it may be
expected of me, and be considered as a duty on my part, to contribute
all in my power towards a full and faithful understanding of the
transactions referred to. Under this conviction, I will, at some future
period, more propitious than the present to calm and dispassionate
consideration, and when there can be no misinterpretation of motives,
lay before the public a narrative of those transactions, as I
understood them.’
From even a careless perusal of that letter, it is apparent, that the
only two subjects of the negotiations at Ghent, to which it refers,
were the navigation of the Mississippi, and certain fishing liberties;
that the errors which I had supposed were committed, applied to both
Mr. Russell and Mr. Adams, though more particularly to the appendix
of the latter; that they were unintentional, that they affected myself
principally; that I deemed them of no public importance, as connected
with the then, or future security of any of the rights of the nation,
but only interesting to its past history; that I doubted the necessity
of my offering to the public any account of those transactions; and
that the narrative which I promised was to be presented at a season
of more calm, and when there could be no misinterpretation of motives.
Although Mr. Adams believes otherwise, I yet think there are some
unintentional errors in the controversial papers between him and Mr.
Russell. But I have reserved to myself an exclusive right of judging
when I shall execute the promise which I have made, and I shall be
neither quickened nor retarded in its performance by the friendly
anxieties of any of my opponents.
If injury accrue to any one by the delay in publishing the
narrative, the public will not suffer by it. It is already known by
the publication of the British and American projets, the protocols,
and the correspondence between the respective plenipotentiaries, that
the British government made at Ghent a demand of the navigation of the
Mississippi, by an article in their projet nearly in the same words
as those which were employed in the treaty of 1783; that a majority
of the American commissioners was in favor of acceding to that demand,
upon the condition that the British government would concede to us
the same fishing liberties within their jurisdiction, as were secured
to us by the same treaty of 1783; and that both demands were finally
abandoned. The fact of these mutual propositions was communicated
by me to the American public in a speech which I delivered in the
house of representatives, on the twenty-ninth day of January, 1816.
Mr. Hopkinson had arraigned the terms of the treaty of peace, and
charged upon the war and the administration the loss of the fishing
liberties, within the British jurisdiction, which we enjoyed prior
to the war. In vindicating, in my reply to him, the course of the
government, and the conditions of the peace, I stated:
‘When the British commissioners demanded, in their projet,
a renewal to Great Britain of the right to the navigation of
the Mississippi, secured by the treaty of 1783, a bare majority
of the American commissioners offered to renew it, upon the
condition that the liberties in question were renewed to us. I
was not one of that majority. I will not trouble the committee
with my reasons for being opposed to the offer. A majority
of my colleagues, actuated, I believe, by the best motives,
made, however, the offer, and it was refused by the British
commissioners.’
And what I thought of my colleagues of the majority, appears from the
same extract. The spring after the termination of the negotiations at
Ghent, I went to London, and entered upon a new and highly important
negotiation with two of them, (Messrs. Adams and Gallatin,) which
resulted, on the third day of July, 1815, in the commercial convention,
which has been since made the basis of most of our commercial
arrangements with foreign powers. Now, if I had discovered at Ghent,
as has been asserted, that either of them was false and faithless
to his country, would I have voluntarily commenced with them another
negotiation? Further: there never has been a period, during our whole
acquaintance, that Mr. Adams and I have not exchanged, when we have
met, friendly salutations, and the courtesies and hospitalities of
social intercourse.
The address proceeds to characterize the support which I gave to
Mr. Adams as unnatural. The authors of the address have not stated why
it is unnatural, and we are therefore left to conjecture their meaning.
Is it because Mr. Adams is from New England, and I am a citizen of the
west? If it be unnatural in the western states to support a citizen
of New England, it must be equally unnatural in the New England states
to support a citizen of the west. And, on the same principle, the
New England states ought to be restrained from concurring in the
election of a citizen of the southern states, or the southern states
from coöperating in the election of a citizen of New England. And,
consequently, the support which the last three presidents have derived
from New England, and that which the vice-president recently received,
has been most unnaturally given. The tendency of such reasoning would
be to denationalize us, and to contract every part of the union within
the narrow, selfish limits of its own section. It would be still worse;
it would lead to the destruction of the union itself. For if it be
unnatural in one section to support a citizen in another, the union
itself must be unnatural; all our ties, all our glories, all that is
animating in the past, all that is bright and cheering in the future,
must be unnatural. Happily, such is the admirable texture of our union,
that the interests of all its parts are closely interwoven. If there
are strong points of affinity between the south and the west, there are
interests of not less, if not greater, strength and vigor, binding the
west, and the north, and the east.
Before I close this address, it is my duty, which I proceed to perform
with great regret, on account of the occasion which calls for it, to
invite your attention to a letter, addressed by general Jackson to
Mr. Swartwout, on the twenty-third day of February last. The names of
both the general and myself had been before the American public for
its highest office. We had both been unsuccessful. The unfortunate
have usually some sympathy for each other. For myself, I claim no merit
for the cheerful acquiescence which I have given in a result by which
I was excluded from the house. I have believed that the decision by
the constituted authorities, in favor of others, has been founded upon
a conviction of the superiority of their pretensions. It has been my
habit, when an election is once decided, to forget, as soon as possible,
all the irritating circumstances which attended the preceding canvass.
If one be successful, he should be content with his success. If he have
lost it, railing will do no good. I never gave general Jackson nor his
friends any reason to believe that I would, in any contingency, support
him. He had, as I thought, no public claim, and, I will now add, no
personal claims, if these ought to be ever considered, to my support.
No one, therefore, ought to have been disappointed or chagrined that
I did not vote for him, no more than I was neither surprised nor
disappointed that he did not, on a more recent occasion, feel it to
be his duty to vote for me. After commenting upon a particular phrase
used in my letter to judge Brooke, a calm reconsideration of which will,
I think, satisfy any person that it was not employed in an offensive
sense, if indeed it have an offensive sense, the general, in his
letter to Mr. Swartwout, proceeds to remark: ‘No one beheld me seeking,
through art or management, to entice any representative in congress
from a conscientious responsibility of his own, or the wishes of
his constituents. No midnight taper burnt by me; no secret conclaves
were held, nor cabals entered into to persuade any one to a violation
of pledges given, or of instructions received. By me no plans were
concerted to impair the pure principles of our republican institutions,
nor to prostrate that fundamental maxim which maintains the supremacy
of the people’s will. On the contrary, having never in any manner,
before the people or congress, interfered in the slightest degree
with the question, my conscience stands void of offence, and will go
quietly with me, regardless of the insinuations of those who, through
management, may seek an influence not sanctioned by integrity and
merit.’ I am not aware that this defence of himself was rendered
necessary by any charges brought forward against the general. Certainly
I never made any such charges against him. I will not suppose that, in
the passage cited, he intended to impute to me the misconduct which he
describes, and yet, taking the whole context of his letter together,
and coupling it with Mr. Kremer’s address, it cannot be disguised that
others may suppose he intended to refer to me. I am quite sure that,
if he did, he could not have formed those unfavorable opinions of
me upon any personal observation of my conduct made by himself; for
a supposition that they were founded upon his own knowledge, would
imply that my lodgings and my person had been subjected to a system
of espionage wholly incompatible with the open, manly, and honorable
conduct of a gallant soldier. If he designed any insinuations against
me, I must believe that he made them upon the information of others,
of whom I can only say that they have deceived his credulity, and
are entirely unworthy of all credit. I entered into no cabals; I held
no secret conclaves; I enticed no man to violate pledges given or
instructions received. The members from Ohio, and from the other
western states, with whom I voted, were all of them as competent as I
was to form an opinion on the pending election. The McArthurs and the
Metcalfs, and the other gentlemen from the west, (some of whom have,
if I have not, bravely ‘made an effort to repel an invading foe,’)
are as incapable of dishonor as any men breathing; as disinterested,
as unambitious, as exclusively devoted to the best interests of their
country. It was quite as likely that I should be influenced by them,
as that I could control their votes. Our object was not to impair, but
to preserve from all danger, the purity of our republican institutions.
And how I prostrated the maxim which maintains the supremacy of the
people’s will, I am entirely at a loss to comprehend. The illusions
of the general’s imagination deceive him. _The people_ of the United
States had never decided the election in his favor. If the people had
_willed_ his election, he would have been elected. It was because they
had _not willed_ his election, nor that of any other candidate, that
the duty of making a choice devolved on the house of representatives.
The general remarks:
‘Mr. Clay has never yet risked himself for his country. He has
never sacrificed his repose, nor made an effort to repel an
invading foe; of _course_ his conscience assured him it was
altogether wrong in any other man to lead his countrymen to
battle and victory.’
The logic of this conclusion is not very striking. General Jackson
fights better than he reasons. When have I failed to concur in awarding
appropriate honors to those who, on the sea or on the land, have
sustained the glory of our arms, if I could not always approve of
the acts of some of them? It is true, that it has been my misfortune
never to have repelled an invading foe, nor to have led my countrymen
to victory. If I had, I should have left to others to proclaim and
appreciate the deed. The general’s destiny and mine have led us in
different directions. In the civil employments of my country, to
which I have been confined, I regret that the little service which
I have been able to render it falls far short of my wishes. But why
this denunciation of those who have not repelled an invading foe, or
led our armies to victory? At the very moment when he is inveighing
against an objection to his election to the presidency, founded upon
the exclusive military nature of his merits, does he not perceive
that he is establishing its validity by proscribing every man who has
not successfully fought the public enemy; and that, by such a general
proscription, and the requirement of successful military service as the
only condition of civil preferment, the inevitable effect would be the
ultimate establishment of a military government?
If the contents of the letter to Mr. Swartwout, were such as justly
to excite surprise, there were other circumstances not calculated to
diminish it. Of all the citizens of the United States, that gentleman
is one of the last to whom it was necessary to address any vindication
of general Jackson. He had given abundant evidence of his entire
devotion to the cause of the general. He was here after the election,
and was one of a committee who invited the general to a public dinner,
proposed to be given to him in this place. My letter to judge Brooke
was published in the papers of this city on the twelfth of February.
The general’s note, declining the invitation of Messrs. Swartwout
and others, was published on the fourteenth, in the National Journal.
The probability, therefore, is, that he did not leave this city until
after he had a full opportunity to receive, in a personal interview
with the general, any verbal observations upon it which he might have
thought proper to make. The letter to Mr. Swartwout, bears date the
twenty-third of February. If received by him in New York, it must have
reached him, in the ordinary course of mail, on the twenty-fifth or
twenty-sixth. Whether intended or not as a ‘private communication,’
and not for the ‘public eye,’ as alleged by him, there is much
probability in believing that its publication in New York, on the
fourth of March, was then made, like Mr. Kremer’s address, with the
view to its arrival in this city in time to affect my nomination to
the senate. In point of fact, it reached here the day before the senate
acted on that nomination.
Fellow-citizens, I am sensible that, generally, a public officer
had better abstain from any vindication of his conduct, and leave it
to the candor and justice of his countrymen, under all its attending
circumstances. Such has been the course which I have heretofore
prescribed to myself. This is the first, as I hope it may be the last,
occasion of my thus appearing before you. The separation which has
just taken place between us, and the venom, if not the vigor of the
late onsets upon my public conduct, will, I hope, be allowed in this
instance to form an adequate apology. It has been upwards of twenty
years since I first entered the public service. Nearly three fourths
of that time, with some intermissions, I have represented the same
district in congress, with but little variation in its form. During
that long period, you have beheld our country passing through scenes
of peace and war, of prosperity and adversity, and of party divisions,
local and general, often greatly exasperated against each other.
I have been an actor in most of those scenes. Throughout the whole
of them, you have clung to me with an affectionate confidence which
has never been surpassed. I have found in your attachment, in every
embarrassment in my public career, the greatest consolation, and the
most encouraging support. I should regard the loss of it as one of the
most afflicting public misfortunes which could befall me. That I have
often misconceived your true interests, is highly probable. That I
have ever sacrificed them to the object of personal aggrandizement,
I utterly deny. And, for the purity of my motives, however in other
respects I may be unworthy to approach the throne of grace and mercy,
I appeal to the justice of my God, with all the confidence which can
flow from a consciousness of perfect rectitude.