HOW DEAL WITH THE TERRITORIES?
Meanwhile, the American army,--accepting as its sole part to obey
orders, not questioning why,--though such officers as Grant and Lee had
no liking for the task set them,--and reinforced by volunteer regiments
from the Southwest,--was steadily fighting its way to the Mexican
capital; Taylor's force advancing from Texas, while Scott moved from
Vera Cruz. The Mexicans resisted bravely, but were beaten again and
again, and upon the capture of the city of Mexico they gave up the
contest.
Spite of the _éclat_ of victories, the war had been so little popular in
the North that the congressional election of 1846 displaced the
administration majority in the House and gave the Whigs a preponderance.
But, with the excitement of the complete victory over Mexico in the next
year, came a fresh wave of the aggressive temper. It was freely
advocated that Mexico should be annexed bodily. Against this madness
Henry Clay spoke out with his old-time power. Clearly the country would
tolerate no such extreme, and the annexationists contented themselves
with mulcting Mexico, upon the payment of $6,000,000, of the vast
territory known as California.
Then set in with full vigor the controversy over the new territory which
Calhoun had foreseen. Calhoun had been left in a sort of isolation by
his defection from the administration upon the war, but he did not break
with President Polk; for the reason, says Von Holst, that he wanted to
save his influence to oppose the tendency to a war with England. Oregon
had been held in joint occupancy by the two nations for many years; now
a line of demarcation was to be drawn, and there was a loud popular
demand for maintaining at any cost the extreme northern line of
latitude--it was "Fifty-four-forty or fight." But the sense of the
country was against coming to extremities, and Calhoun--a statesman when
slavery was not concerned--threw his influence with the moderate
sentiment which secured the acceptance of the line of 49 degrees. But he
looked with foreboding eyes on the deepening conflict of the sections
and the advantage which gravitated toward the North;--from political
causes, he declared, unwilling or unable to recognize that the
industrial superiority lay inevitably with free labor. He met the danger
with a bolder and more advanced claim. The South, he declared, had had
enough of compromise over territory; it must now fall back on its
ultimate right under the Constitution; and that right was that slaves,
being lawful property, might be taken into any territory of the United
States, and Congress had no right to forbid their introduction; neither
had Congress a right to refuse admission of any State whose people
desired to retain slavery. This was a claim for the nationalization of
slavery; and it was not until after Calhoun's death that the South came
to this position, staked its cause upon it, and when it was rejected by
the popular vote broke with the Union.
But Calhoun's logic and passion had not yet brought his section up to
his own position, and over the division of the newly acquired territory
North and South disputed as before. While the war was still waging,
President Polk asked for an appropriation to be expended as compensation
for new territory; and David Wilmot, a Democratic member from
Pennsylvania, moved that a proviso be added, stipulating that from any
new territory acquired by purchase slavery should be excluded. This was
passed by the House, but rejected by the Senate. The Senate was long the
stronghold of the South, the States having an equal representation,
while in the House the greater increase of free State population gave
them a fresh advantage at each new census and apportionment. The "Wilmot
proviso" was for some years the watchword of the anti-extensionists. To
the typical Northerner, it seemed monstrous that slavery should be
introduced by law in territory where it had no previous existence. To
the typical Southerner it seemed no less unjust that his peculiar
institutions and usages should be excluded from the common domain, for
which his section had paid its share of money and more than its share of
blood.
While the question of the new territory had scarcely taken definite
form, there came the Presidential election of 1848. In the Whig
convention Clay's ambition received its final disappointment; Webster
had hardly a chance; all the statesmen of the party were set aside in
favor of General Zachary Taylor of Louisiana, an upright, soldierly man,
a slaveholder, entirely unversed in civil affairs, and his claim resting
solely on successful generalship in the war. The Democrats nominated
Lewis Cass of Michigan, a mediocre politician, regarded by the South as
a trustworthy servant. The third party displayed new strength, and
exchanged the name of "Liberty" for "Free Soil." Under the stimulus of
recent events recruits of power and promise came to its standard. In
Massachusetts it gained such men as Samuel Hoar, Charles Sumner, Charles
Francis Adams, and Henry Wilson from the Whigs; and from the Democrats,
Robert Rantoul and N. P. Banks. Wilson and Charles Allen, delegates to
the Whig convention, declared,--when that body in its resolutions
absolutely ignored the question of slavery extension, and sank all
principles in a hurrah for "Old Rough and Ready,"--that they would no
longer support the party. They went home to work with their old
friends, the "Conscience Whigs," for the success of the Free Soil party,
whose convention was to meet at Buffalo. To that convention came strong
allies from Ohio. There were Joshua Giddings, for years one of the few
congressmen classed distinctly as anti-slavery, and Salmon P. Chase. New
York State offered a reinforcement strong in numbers, but in some
respects questionable. The anti-slavery Democrats in the State,
nicknamed "Barnburners"--because "they would burn the barn to get rid of
the rats"--were ready to break with their party, but their quarrel was
partly a personal one. They were welcomed, however, and from their ranks
was selected the Presidential candidate--of all men, ex-President Martin
Van Buren, known of old as "the Northern man with Southern principles,"
but willing now to Northernize his principles with the Presidency in
view. Such a nomination went far to take the heart out of the genuine
anti-slavery men; and the strong name of Charles Francis Adams for
vice-president could not make good the weakness of the head of the
ticket. Should a real Free Soiler vote for Van Buren,--the probable
effect being to improve Cass's chances over Taylor, just as the Birney
vote four years earlier had beaten Clay and brought in Polk and all his
consequences--or vote for Taylor, trusting to his personal character and
the influences surrounding him for a practical advantage to the side of
freedom? The latter alternative was the choice of many, including Horace
Greeley and his associates, Thurlow Weed and William H. Seward. With
such help, and mainly on his strength as a military hero, Taylor was
elected. In the result there was considerable hope for the anti-slavery
cause. For Seward, who had been chosen to the Senate from New York, was
very influential with the new President, and Seward was one of the
coming men, clearly destined to be a leader among those who were to
succeed the great triumvirate of Clay, Calhoun, and Webster. He was
high-minded, cultivated, and united lofty ideals with practical wisdom.
A thorough constitutionalist, he believed there were legitimate ways of
advancing freedom under the Constitution; and in a speech at Cleveland
he had declared: "Slavery can be limited to its present bounds; it can
be ameliorated; it can be abolished; and you and I must do it." Ohio
sent to the Senate another of the coming men, Salmon P. Chase,
resembling Seward in his broad and philosophical views and his firm but
constitutional opposition to slavery.