MR. PRESIDENT,--Since Henry Clay left this Chamber by the gate of
death, no Senator has passed that way crowned with the same honorable
years as Mr. Collamer; nor has any Senator passed that way whose
departure created such a blank in the public councils, unless we
except Mr. Douglas. He was our most venerable associate; but his place
here had not shrunk with time. Nor was he, when we last saw him, less
important to our debates and to our conclusions than ever before. He
still possessed all those peculiar powers of argument and illustration,
seasoned with a New England salt, which he had from the beginning. He
was not so old that he was not often the life of the body.
When he came into the Senate, it was after long and various experience
as lawyer, judge, representative in the other House, member of the
Cabinet, and then again as judge, in all which characters he had been
single, pure, honest, faithful, and laborious. Though little of a
traveller, he had seen much. He had also read much, and he had done
much. But all the results of observation, study, and action had so
passed into his nature as to become part of himself. If he expressed
an opinion, even on law, it seemed to come from himself, and not from
books. He was the authority. And yet he was fond of books, whether in
his own profession or in other departments of study.
His fidelity assumed the form of accuracy in all that he said or did.
He spoke accurately, and he was especially accurate with his pen.
Perhaps nobody was apter in the style or language of legislation. He
was an expert draughtsman, although, without doubt, too professional
for a taste not exclusively professional,--indulging in traditional
phrases, and those favorite superfluities of the lawyer, “said” and
“aforesaid.” The great Act of July 13, 1861,[9] which gave to the war
for the suppression of the Rebellion its first Congressional sanction,
and invested the President with new powers, was drawn by him. It was
he that set in place the great ban, not yet lifted, by which the
Rebel States were shut out from the communion of the Union. This is a
landmark in our history, and it might properly be known by the name of
its author, as “Collamer’s statute.”
All who ever sat with him in the committee-room will long remember the
carefulness with which he gave his counsels, and the completeness with
which he explained them. Perhaps his wisdom and facility in business
were nowhere more manifest. I seize this occasion to confess most
gratefully my own personal obligations to him in this interesting
relation.
The same character which appeared in the committee-room showed itself
in conversation, enlivened by constant humor. He, too, had his “little
story” for illustration; but in this respect he differed from the
late President as one of his own Vermont mountains differs from an
outstretched laughing prairie of the West. In manner he was Socratic.
The curious observer, fond of tracing resemblances, might fancy that
in the form of his head, and even of his person, he was not unlike the
received image of Socrates, while his colloquial powers might again
recall Socrates, as pictured by the affectionate Xenophon, “handling
all who conversed with him just as he pleased.” He had also the same
antique simplicity, and I doubt not he would have followed the wise
man of Athens barefoot in the waters of the Ilissus. I would not push
the resemblance too far, and I use it only for illustration, not for
parallel; and yet, as I bring to mind our departed friend, he seems to
assume this classical figure. Call him, then, if you please, the Green
Mountain Socrates.
Debate, except on the highest occasions, is only conversation in
public. With him it was conversation always. He spoke as he conversed,
with the same pith and humor, and with the same facility. But his
facility did not tempt him. In this gilded amphitheatre,[10] where
the speaker is sacrificed to the galleries, as of old the gladiator
was offered up to make a Roman holiday, he declined all display, and
simply conversed; and such was the desire to hear him, that we gathered
near to catch his words. He was not a frequent speaker, and he never
spoke except when he had something to say; nor did he speak for effect
abroad, but only for effect in the debate. Of course, he was too honest
and too considerate of the Senate to speak without the preparation of
reflection and study. Though at times earnest, he was never bitter. He
never dropped into the debate any poisoned ingredients.
Sometimes he spoke with much effect, especially on law, or finance, or
business. On the great question which for a generation overshadowed all
others, and finally wrapped the country in the “living cloud of war,”
he was sincerely antislavery, but with certain shortcomings which in
this impartial tribute ought not to be concealed. His lenity toward our
monster enemy showed itself unconsciously when he spoke of malignant
Rebels as “those Southern gentlemen who had seceded,” and then again,
when, at an earlier date, he spoke of “two civilizations”; but he bore
kindly the reply, that civilization was only on one side. And yet on
two occasions in this Chamber he strove for the Right very bravely, so
that his position became historic. One of these was many years ago,
shortly after he came into the Senate; the other was only last year.
The historian and the biographer will describe these scenes. One of
them is the fit subject of Art.
The earliest of these occasions was when, under the influence of the
President of that day, backed by Jefferson Davis in the Cabinet,
an illegal government was set up in a distant Territory, which, in
defiance of the people there, proceeded to institute an infamous Black
Code borrowed from Slavery. The President countenanced the illegal
government, and smiled upon the Black Code. The representatives of
Slavery in both Houses of Congress, with their Northern allies,
indifferent to human rights, and greedy only of political power,
sustained the President in his disregard of a fundamental principle of
the Declaration of Independence, that governments derive “their just
powers from the consent of the governed.” The contest was unequal.
On one side was a struggling people, insulted and despoiled of their
rights; on the other side was the President, with all the vast powers
of the Republic, with patronage less than now, but very prevailing,
and with a great political party yielding an unhesitating support. The
contest reached this Chamber. Naturally it came before the Committee
on Territories, where happily the good cause was represented by Jacob
Collamer, of Vermont. The interest increased with each day; and when
the Committee reported, a scene ensued without example among us.
The reports of committees are usually handed in and ordered to be
printed; but now, at the impassioned call of a Senator from South
Carolina,[11] the report of the Committee, whitewashing incredible
outrages, was read by the Chairman at the desk of the Secretary of the
Senate. The Chairman left his seat for this purpose, and stood face to
face with the Senate.[12] For two hours the apology for that usurpation
which had fastened a Black Code upon an inoffensive people sounded in
this Chamber, while the partisans of Slavery gloated over the seeming
triumph. There was a hush of silence, and there was sadness also with
some, who saw clearly the unpardonable turpitude of the sacrifice. Mr.
Collamer followed with a minority report, signed by himself alone,
which he read at the desk of the Secretary, standing face to face with
the Senate. Jesse D. Bright was at the time our President, but he had
installed in the chair on that momentous occasion none other than
that most determined artificer of treason and drill-sergeant of the
Rebellion, John Slidell, who sat behind, like Mephistopheles looking
over the shoulder of Truth,[13] while the patriot Senator, standing
before, gravely unfolded the enormities that had been perpetrated.
Few then present now remain; but none then present can fail to recall
the scene. The report which Mr. Collamer read belongs to the history
of the country. But the scene comes clearly within the domain of Art.
In the long life of our departed friend it was his brightest and most
glorious moment,--beyond anything of honor or power, whether in the
cabinet or on the bench. For what is office, compared to the priceless
opportunity, nobly employed, of standing as a buttress for human rights?
The other signal occasion, when he showed much of the same character,
and was surely inspired by the same sentiment, was during the last
year, when the illustrious President, who now reposes in immortality,
undertook, in disregard of Congress, and solely by executive power, to
institute civil governments throughout that region of the Union where
civil governments had been overthrown,--imitating, in the agencies
he employed, the Cromwellian system of ruling by “major-generals.”
The case of distant and oppressed Kansas was revived. Who can forget
the awakened leonine energy of the aged Senator, when, contrary to
his custom, he interrupted another in debate to declare his judgment
against the power of the President to institute permanent civil
governments “to last beyond the war”?[14] The dividing line was clear.
The President might exercise a temporary military power, but Congress
must lay the foundations of permanent peace. This simple principle was,
of course, only the corollary of that rule of Jefferson, which has
become one of the commonplaces of our political system, asserting “the
supremacy of the civil over the military authority.”[15] The eggs of
crocodiles can produce only crocodiles; and it is not easy to see how
eggs laid by military power can be hatched into an American State.
This interjected judgment was afterward developed in a speech, which
for sententious wisdom and solid sense is, perhaps, the best he ever
delivered. It is not long, but, like the Roman sword, it is effective
from its very shortness. He spoke with the authority of years, but he
spoke also with another peculiar authority; for it was he who drew
the Act of Congress which placed the Rebel States under the ban.[16]
Positively, earnestly, and most persuasively, he insisted that Congress
should not abdicate its control of this question. His conclusion was
repeated again and again. It was for Congress, he said, to say when
that state of things existed which would entitle the Rebel States to
perform their functions as integral parts of the Union. It was for
Congress to decide this question, and not for the President, except so
far as the President unites in an Act of Congress by his signature.
And he asked, “When will and when ought Congress to admit these States
as being in their normal condition?” To which he answers: “It is not
enough that they stop their hostility and are repentant. They should
present fruits meet for repentance. They should furnish to us, by their
actions, some evidence that the condition of loyalty and obedience is
their true condition again, and Congress must pass upon it; _otherwise
we have no securities_.… And I insist that the President, making peace
with them, if you please, by surceasing military operations, _does
not alter their status, until Congress passes upon it_.” Then, again,
filled with the thought, he exclaims, “The great and essential thing
now to insist upon is, that Congress shall do nothing which can in
any way create _a doubt_ about our power over the subject.” And still
pleading against executive interference, he says: “I believe, that,
when reëstablishing the condition of peace with that people, Congress,
representing the United States, has power, in ending this war, as any
other war, to get some security for the future. It would be a strange
thing, if it were not true that this nation, in ending a civil as well
as a foreign war, could close it and make peace by obtaining, if not
indemnity for the past, _at least some security for future peace_.”[17]
This was among the last utterances of our patriot Senator. It is his
dying legacy to his country. Let all, from President to citizen, heed
its words. The aspiration so often expressed to-day, that he were
now alive to take part in the restoration of the Rebel States, is
fulfilled. He lives in his declared opinions, echoed from the tomb.
Say not that I err, because here at his funeral, seeking to do him
honor, I exhibit him bravely standing front to front with executive
power wielded by a President instigated by Jefferson Davis, and then
again bravely standing front to front with executive power wielded by
the gentle hand of Abraham Lincoln. In the first case it was to save
an outraged people; in the other it was to vindicate the powers of the
people of the United States in Congress assembled to provide guaranties
and safeguards against the wickedness and perjury which had deluged
his beloved country with blood. Say not that I err, because now, at
his funeral, anxious that his best actions should not be forgotten,
I commemorate this championship. He is dead, but the good he has done
cannot die. And hereafter faithful Senators, struggling with executive
power, will catch a new inspiration from his example. A bishop of the
Church tells us that “all is not over, while there is a man left to
reprove error and bear testimony to the truth; and a man who does it
with becoming spirit may stop a prince or senate when in full career,
and recover the day.”[18] Where this spirit has been shown, where an
honored associate has earned this title to fame, I insist that it shall
be made known.
“WHITEWASHING” BY THE PRESIDENT.
REMARKS IN THE SENATE, ON A MESSAGE OF PRESIDENT JOHNSON ON THE
CONDITION OF THE SOUTHERN STATES, DECEMBER 19, 1865.
December 19th, a message was read from President Johnson
with regard to the condition of the Southern States, which
was represented as “more promising than, in view of all the
circumstances, could well have been expected.” The President
said:--
“From all the information in my possession, and from that
which I have recently derived from the most reliable
authority, I am induced to cherish the belief that
sectional animosity is surely and rapidly merging itself
into a spirit of nationality, and that representation,
connected with a properly adjusted system of taxation, will
result in a harmonious restoration of the relations of the
States to the National Union.”
Accompanying the message was a report to the President by
Lieutenant-General Grant, who had recently made a tour of
inspection through several of the States lately in rebellion,
where he said, “I am satisfied that the mass of thinking men
of the South accept the present situation of affairs in good
faith.” In this spirit the report speaks of the “universal
acquiescence in the authority of the General Government”; it
declares that “the good of the country and economy require that
the force kept in the interior, where there are many freedmen,
should all be white troops,”--that “the presence of black
troops, lately slaves, demoralizes labor, both by their advice
and by furnishing in their camps a resort for the freedmen for
long distances around,”--that “the citizens of the Southern
States are anxious to return to self-government within the
Union as soon as possible”; and it adds, that “they are in
earnest in wishing to do what they think is required by the
Government, not humiliating to them as citizens.”
Nothing was said in the message or the report of the condition
of the freedmen, or of the continued denial of their rights.
Both these documents were read at length by the Secretary of
the Senate. A report by Major-General Carl Schurz was also
communicated; but this was not read. It was understood that
this report was elaborate, and that it set forth the condition
of the freedmen. Mr. Sumner, ascertaining that it accompanied
the message, said: “If it is there, I think it had better be
read.”
SEVERAL SENATORS. It is very long.
MR. SUMNER. At any rate, we can begin it.
THE PRESIDENT _pro tempore_. The reading of the report of
General Carl Schurz is called for. It will be read, if
there be no objection.
MR. JOHNSON [of Maryland]. I have no objection to the
reading of the report; I should like to hear it; but the
reading will take a good while, and it can all be printed
in a day or two.
MR. SUMNER. Let the reading be begun.
MR. JOHNSON. I submit to the Senator from Massachusetts
that the printing of it, perhaps, will answer every
purpose. It is a very long report, I see; at least, it
seems to be so. I have, personally, not the slightest
objection to its being read.
MR. SUMNER. It is a very important document. The Senate will
remember, that, when the report was made on the condition of
Kansas, every word of it was read at the desk.[19] Now the
question before the country is immeasurably more important
than that of Kansas. We have a message from the President
which is like the whitewashing message of Franklin Pierce with
regard to the enormities in Kansas. Such is its parallel. I
think the Senate had better at least listen to the opening of
Major-General Schurz’s report.
MR. JOHNSON. I have no objection, if the Senate think they
have time to listen to it; but I did not expect to hear any
assault, direct or indirect, upon the President at this
time.
MR. SUMNER. No assault at all.
Mr. Johnson then said: “I have seen nothing in the message
which would warrant a reflection that any improper purpose had
actuated the President in sending it here. He does not mean, as
I suppose, to whitewash anybody who has offended.”
The Secretary proceeded to read the introductory paragraphs
of General Schurz’s report, in which he states through what
portion of the South he travelled, the points at which he
stopped, his facilities for obtaining information, and the
order in which the results of his observation would be detailed.
Mr. Sherman, of Ohio, “would much prefer to read this document
in print,” and he moved to dispense with its further reading.