THE ERA OF GOOD-WILL; OR, MONROE’S NESTING.
1817–1825.
Why Byron did not write sometimes.—Application.—Rainbow after the
Shower.—The Happy Family.—An Inlaid Cabinet.—Virginia’s Dower Rights
in the Presidency.—Five New States.—The Three M’s.—Proof from the
Census of 1820 that Chicago had not started.—The Missouri
Compromise.—A Good Bridle until used.—Florida bought in 1819.—What we
got over the Bargain.—The Florida Keys.—The Dry Tortugas thrown
in.—The Dews fortunately left.—A Cracked Cup in the Family
Cupboard.—The Monroe Doctrine.
“Why do you not write now?” inquired a friend of Byron in one of the
fitful pauses of his galloping author life.
“Because I am happy now.”
So reply the uneventful, unproductive felicities of Monroe’s term to the
distressed hunter after historical sensations.
After the showery storm of Madison’s aquatic epoch, rainbows came out in
millennial blendings. Warm sunshine lay upon all the land. Under it the
happy family dwelt in peace. Federal and Republican inlaid the Cabinet.
Virginia was satisfied with the fourth President. She had got her
thirds. The humble eighteen others believed in Virginia Presidents. They
were content. It was Solomon’s reign of peace paragraphed between
David’s wars and Rehoboam’s troubles. Five Territories took advantage of
the open doors to step into family relations. Among the five were the
three leading M’s, Maine, Mississippi, and Missouri. Chicago—we mean
Illinois—took the year 1818 to enter. Of course Chicago had not yet
begun, for in 1820 the census only showed 9,638,191.
The keeper of the happy family was re-elected in 1820. There was only
one vote against him,—a little mistake or eccentricity not worth
inquiring into. There was a little shimmering over the calm surface for
two years, caused by the application of Missouri to bring slaves with
her into the family. Of course Mr. Clay produced a compromise as a
settlement in 1820. Missouri was allowed slaves; but thereafter slavery
was banned from all territory north of 36° 30´. The bridle looked strong
when there was no horse. When the black charger was brought out and the
bridle put on, it was found, however, that he leaped unchecked over the
line.
In 1819 Florida was bought from Spain for $5,000,000, and delivered to
us in 1821. We got with it more than our bargain,—a lot of very sharp
Indian tomahawks. To blunt them soon cost $30,000,000. The Dry Tortugas
were thrown in. So were the Florida Keys. So were the alligators.
Fortunately the night dews were left to prevent the peninsula from
cracking off. Our Union is for better or worse. We took Florida in the
era of good-will; we keep it for nothing. Among the crockery in the
family cupboard an occasional cup comes with a cracked handle or broken
edge. Having little to do at home, our statesmen turned their attention
to Venezuela and New Granada, then fighting under Bolivar for their
independence of Spain. Bravely they spoke up for the under cur in the
fight; but more courageous still, the President, in his annual message
for 1823, declared, as a principle, in spite of the crowds of colonists
to our own ports, that no European nation had any right to colonize any
territory on the Western continent,—a Monroe doctrine which, like the
laws, is very loud-spoken in peace, but very silent in war.