than accurate. The Constitution of the United States was not
"struck off at a given time," but as declared by Bancroft, "the
materials for its building were the gifts of the ages." In the
words of Lieber, "What the ancients said of the avenging gods, that
they were shod with wool, is true of great ideas in government.
They approach slowly. Great truths dwell a long time with small
minorities."
The period following the treaty of peace with Great Britain in
1783, which terminated the War of the Revolution, has been not
inaptly designated "the critical period of American history." The
Revolutionary Government, under which Washington had been chosen
to the chief command of the colonial forces, the early battles
fought, and the Declaration of Independence promulgated, had
been superseded in 1781 by a Government created under the Articles
of Confederation. The latter Government, while in a vital sense
a mere rope of sand, was a long step in the right direction; the
earnest of the more perfect union yet to follow.
Under the Government, more shadowy than real, thus created, the
closing battles of the Revolution were fought, independence achieved,
a treaty of peace concluded, and our recognition as a sovereign
Republic obtained from our late antagonist and other European
nations.
The Articles of Confederation, submitted for ratification by the
Colonial Congress to the individual States while the country was
yet in the throes of a doubtful struggle, fell far short of
establishing what in even crude form could properly be designated a
Government. The Confederation was wholly lacking in one essential
of all Governments: the power to execute its own decrees. Its
avowed purpose was to establish "a firm league of friendship," or,
as the name indicates, a mere confederation of the colonies.
The parties to this league were independent political communities,
and by express terms, each State was to retain all rights, sovereignty,
and jurisdiction not expressly delegated to the Confederation. In
a Congress consisting of a single House were vested the powers thus
grudgingly conferred. Its members were to be chosen by the States
as such; upon every question the vote was given by States, each,
regardless of population, having but a single vote. The revenues and
the regulation of foreign commerce were to remain under the control
of the respective States, and no provision was made for borrowing
money for the necessary maintenance of the general Government. In
a word, in so far as a Government at all, it was in the main one
of independent States, and in no sense that with which we are
familiar, a Government of the entire people. Whatever existed
of executive power was in a committee of the Congress; the only
provision for meeting the expenses of the late war and the interest
upon the public debt was by requisition upon the States, with no
shadow of power for its enforcement.
Under the conditions briefly mentioned, with the United States
of America a byword among the nations, the now historic Convention
of 1787 assembled in Philadelphia, in the room where eleven
years earlier had been promulgated the Declaration of Independence.
It consisted of fifty-five members; and without a dissenting voice,
Washington, a delegate from Virginia, was elected its President.
Not the least of his public services was now to be rendered in the
work of safeguarding the fruits of successful revolution by a stable
Government. Chief among the associates with whom he was daily
in earnest, anxious counsel in the great assemblage, were men whose
names live with his in history. If Franklin, Wilson, Sherman,
King, Randolph, Rutledge, Mason, Pinckney, Hamilton, Madison,
and their associates had rendered no public service other than
as builders of the Constitution, that alone would entitle them
to the measureless gratitude of all future generations of their
countrymen.
When they were assembled, the startling fact was at once apparent that,
under the Confederation, with its constituent States at times in
almost open hostility to one another, the country was gradually
drifting into a condition of anarchy.
It is our glory to-day, and will be that of countless on-coming
generations, that the men of '87 were equal to the stupendous
emergency. Regardless of instructions, expressed or implied,
the master spirits of the Convention, looking beyond local prejudices
and State environment, and appealing to time for vindication, with
a ken that now seems more than human, discerned the safety, the
well-being, the glory of their countrymen, bound up in a general
Government of plenary powers, a Government "without a seam in its
garment, to foreign nations."
To this end the proposition submitted by Paterson of New Jersey,
in the early sittings of the Convention, for a mere enlargement of
the powers of the Confederation, was decisively rejected. With
the light that could be gleaned from the pages of Montesquieu, the
suggestive lessons to be drawn from the fate of the short-lived
republics whose wrecks lay along the pathway of history, and from the
unwritten Constitution of the mother country, as their only guides,
the leaders of the Convention were at once in the difficult role
of constructive statesmen. The Herculean task to which with
unwearied effort they now addressed themselves was that of "builders"
of the Constitution; the establishers, for the ages, of the
fundamental law for a free people.
One of the perils which early beset the Convention, and whose
spectre haunted its deliberations till the close, was the hostility
engendered by the dread and jealousy of the smaller toward the
larger States. This fact will in some measure explain what in
later years have been denominated the anomalies of the Constitution.
To a correct understanding of the motives of the builders, and
an appreciation of their marvellous accomplishment, it must not be
forgotten that "The foundations of the Constitution were laid in
compromise." The men of '87 had but recently emerged from the
bloody conflict through which they had escaped the domination of
kingly power. With the tyranny of George the Third yet burning in
their memories, it is not to be wondered that the Revolutionary
patriots of the less populous States were loath to surrender rights,
deemed, by them, secure under their local governments; that they
dreaded the establishment of what they apprehended might prove
an overshadowing--possibly unlimited--central authority.
The creation of a general Government, with its three separate
and measurably independent departments, happily concluded, with
the delegated powers of each distinctly enumerated, the salient
question as to the basis of representation in the Congress at once
pressed for determination. Upon the question of provision for a
chief executive, and his investment with the powers necessarily
incident to the great office, there was after much debate a practical
consensus of opinion. And practical unanimity in the end prevailed
regarding the judicial department, with its great court without
a prototype at its creation, and even yet without a counterpart in
foreign Governments.
The rock upon which the Convention barely escaped early dissolution,
was the basis of representation in the Congress created under
the great co-ordinate legislative department. The model for our
Senate and House of Representatives was unquestionably the British
Parliament. This statement is to be taken with weighty qualifications;
for hereditary or ecclesiastical representation, as in the House
of Lords, is wholly unknown in our system of government. The
significant resemblance is that of our Lower House to the
British Commons. In these respective chambers, the people, as
such, have representation.
The earnest, at times violent, contention of the smaller States,
in our historic Convention, was for equal representation in both
branches of the proposed national legislature. This was strenuously
resisted by the larger States under the powerful leadership of
Madison of Virginia, and Wilson of Pennsylvania. Their equally
earnest, and by no means illogical contention was for popular
representation in each House, as outlined in the Virginia plan
which had been taken as the framework of the proposed Constitution.
The opposing views appeared wholly irreconcilable, and for a time the
parting of the ways seemed to have been reached. Threats of
dissolution were not uncommon in the Chamber, and for many days
the spirit of despair brooded over the Convention. A delegate from
Maryland vehemently declared: "The Convention is on the verge
of dissolution, scarcely held together by the strength of a hair."
Well has it been said: "In even the contemplation of the fearful
consequence of such a calamity, the imagination stands aghast."
At the crucial moment mentioned, Sherman and Ellsworth presented
upon behalf of Connecticut the first and most far-reaching of
the great compromises of the Constitution. The Connecticut plan
was in brief to the effect that in fixing the ratio of representation
there should be recognition alike of the federal and of the national
feature in government, in a word, that in the Lower House the
national, and in the upper the federal principle should have
full recognition. This was a departure from the Virginia plan
to the extent that it in effect proposed the establishment of a
federal republic,--in the concrete, that the House should be composed
of representatives chosen directly by the people from districts of
equal population; while representation in the Senate should be that
of the States, each, regardless of population, to have two members,
to be chosen at stated periods by their respective legislatures.
After heated debate, this compromise was carried by a bare majority,
and the provision for popular representation in the House, and
equal State representation in the Senate, became engrafted upon
our Federal Constitution. This feature, an eminent foreign writer has
declared, "is the chief American contribution to the common treasures
of political civilization." The eminent writer, De Tocqueville,
has well said: "The principle of the independence of the States
triumphed in the formation of the Senate, and that of the sovereignty
of the nation in the composition of the House of Representatives."
The success of the Connecticut plan made possible that of other
essential compromises which followed; and the result was, as the
sublime consummation of wise deliberation and patriotic concession,
the establishment of the Government of the United States.
It is the proud boast of the Briton, that "the British Constitution
has no single date from which its duration is to be reckoned,
and that the origin of English law is as undiscoverable as that of
the Nile." Our Government, buttressed upon a written Constitution
of enumerated and logically implied powers, had its historic
beginning upon that masterful day, April 30, 1789, when Washington
took solemn oath of office as our first President.
The Senate of the United States has been truly declared "the greatest
deliberative body known to men." By Constitutional provision it
consists of two members from each State, chosen by the Legislature
thereof, for the term of six years. No person has the legal
qualification for Senator "unless he shall have attained the age
of thirty years, be an inhabitant of the State for which he is
chosen, and have been nine years a citizen of the United States."
No State, without its consent, can ever be deprived, even by
Constitutional amendment, of its equal representation in the Senate.
Nevada with a population of less than forty thousand has her equal
voice with New York with a population exceeding seven million.
This anomaly was occasioned by concession by the larger to the
smaller States in the Convention of 1787, a concession which
made possible the establishment of the federal Union.
One essential difference between the House of Representatives
and the Senate is that to the latter "the previous question" is
unknown; no method existing for terminating debate, other than
by unanimous consent. Here, unlimited discussion and amendment
can have their perfect work. Within the last three or four decades
many fruitless attempts have been made to introduce a modified
"previous question" or _cloture,_ by which the Senate could be
brought to an immediate vote. At first blush such change might
seem desirable, but experience has demonstrated the wisdom of
the method to which there has been such steady adherence. It
secures time for consideration and full discussion upon every
question. In the end the vote will be taken. Debate is rarely
prolonged beyond reasonable limit. Not infrequently the public
welfare is imperilled by too much, rather than too little, legislation.
It was the belief of Jefferson that government should touch the
citizen at the fewest possible points. The quaint lines of the
old English poet have lost nothing of their significance:
"How small, of all that human hearts endure,
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure!"
The House of Representatives has in large degree ceased to be a
deliberative body. Under the iron rule of the "previous question"
measures of importance are hurriedly passed without the possibility
of discussion or amendment. The rights of the minority are at
times but as the dust in the balance.
Unlike the House of Lords, the Senate is in reality an important
factor in legislation. As is well known in recent years, government
in Great Britain is virtually that of the House of Commons, in
large measure through a cabinet practically of its own appointment.
The King is little more than a ceremonial figure-head, and the
House of Lords is almost in a death struggle for existence. The
end would probably come by serious attempt upon its part to thwart
the popular will as expressed through the House of Commons. The
power of Edward the Seventh is but a shadow of that exercised almost
without let or hindrance by the predecessors of Queen Victoria.
The veto power, so potent an instrumentality in the hands of the
American President, is to all intents a dead letter in the mythical
British Constitution. For a century and a half it has remained in
practical abeyance. It is believed that its attempted exercise at
this day would produce revolution; possibly endanger the existence
of the throne.
By means of what is known as a suspension of the rules, under
the operation of the "previous question," much important legislation
is enacted in our House of Representatives, without the minority
having the privilege of debate, or amendment, or even the necessary
time to a full understanding of the pending measure. The constantly
recurring "River and Harbor Bill," with its enormous sum total
of appropriations, is a striking object lesson of the vicious
character of such methods.
In the light of what has been suggested, the wisdom displayed in
the establishment of the bicameral, or two-chamber system, in
our legislative scheme, is strikingly apparent. At the time of
its creation, it had no counterpart in any of the Governments of
continental Europe. Its only prototype, in so far as it was such,
was the British House of Lords as already indicated.
Save only in the right to originate revenue bills, the power of
the Senate is concurrent with that of the House in all matters
of legislation; and these are wisely subject to amendment by the
Senate. The presiding officer of the Senate is the Vice-President
of the United States, and in his absence a Senator chosen as
President _pro tempore._
In the event of a failure on the part of the people to elect a
President or a Vice-President of the United States, through electors
duly appointed at the stated time, the duty of such election devolves
upon the House and the Senate acting independently of each other.
The choice of President is limited to the three candidates who have
received the highest number of votes in the several electoral
colleges. The determination is by the House of Representatives,
the vote being by States. In such event the vote of Nevada
would again count equally with that of New York. In the contingency
mentioned, of a failure to elect a Vice-President, the election
devolves upon the Senate, each Senator having a personal vote; and
the person chosen must by Constitutional requirement be one of the
two receiving the highest number of electoral votes. In 1836, Mr.
Van Buren of New York received a majority of the electoral votes
for President; but no person receiving a majority for the second
office, Colonel Richard M. Johnson, of Kentucky, one of the two
persons eligible, was chosen by the Senate. No similar instance
has occurred in our history.
In the Presidential election of 1800, and in that of 1824, the
ultimate determination was by the House of Representatives. In
the former, Jefferson and Burr each received seventy-three electoral
votes, without specification as to whether intended for the first or
second office. The protracted struggle which followed resulted in
the choice of Jefferson for the higher office. This fortunate
termination was in large measure through the influence of Alexander
Hamilton, and was the initial step in the bitter personal strife
which eventuated in his early death at the hands of Burr. In
the light of events, we may well believe that not the least of the
public services of Hamilton was his unselfish interposition at the
critical moment mentioned. The possibility of similar complication
again arising in the election of the President was soon thereafter
obviated by the Twelfth Amendment to the Constitution.
Seldom in Presidential contests has there been such an array of
great names presented as in that of 1824. The era of good feeling
which characterized the administration of Monroe found sudden
termination in the rival candidacy of two members of his cabinet, for
the succession--Mr. Adams, Secretary of State, and Mr. Crawford, of
the Treasury. The other aspirants were Clay, the brilliant Speaker
of the House of Representatives, and Jackson, with laurels yet
fresh from the battlefield of New Orleans. Mr. Clay receiving the
smallest number of electoral votes, and no candidate the
majority thereof, the selection again devolved upon the House,
resulting eventually in the choice of John Quincy Adams.
In the two Presidential contests last mentioned, the Senate had no
part in the final adjustment. An occasion, however, arose nearly a
half-century later, involving the succession to the Presidency, in
which the Senate, equally with the House, was an important factor in
the final determination. The country has known few periods of
profounder anxiety to thoughtful men, or of greater peril to stable
government, than the feverish hours immediately succeeding the
Presidential contest of 1876. The shadow cast by the Hayes-Tilden
contest even yet, in a measure, lingers. As a Representative in
Congress at the time, I was deeply impressed with the gravity of
the situation. In the instances first mentioned it was the mere
question of the failure of any candidate to receive a majority
of the electoral votes. The framers of the Constitution had wisely
provided for such contingency by action of the House in manner
indicated. The far more serious question now confronting was, For
whom had the disputed States of Florida and Louisiana cast their
votes? The settlement of this question virtually determined which
candidate should be inaugurated President. Conflicting certificates
from the States named had been forwarded to the seat of government,
and were in keeping of the officer designated by law as the custodian
of the electoral returns from the several States. The contingency
which had now arisen was one for which there was no provision.
The sole function of the joint session of the Senate and the House
was "to open all the certificates and count the votes." This
was "the be all and end all" of its authority. Upon the arising
of any question demanding a vote, or even deliberation, the members
of the joint session could only return to their separate chambers.
They could act only in their separate capacities. In a word,
the perilous exigency presented was, the friends of one candidate having
a majority in the Senate, and of the other in control of the House;
conflicting certificates presented, upon which hinged the result, and
the tension throughout the entire country assuming alarming
proportions. Coupled with the question of peaceable succession to
the great office was that of the durability of popular government.
Tremendous issues, upon which depended unfathomable consequences, pressed
for settlement; and no tribunal was in existence for their
determination.
The sober second thought of those upon whom was then cast the
responsibility asserted itself at the opportune moment, and a
commission consisting of an equal number of Senators, Representatives,
and Judges of the Great Court was created. This commission--
extra-Constitutional, as was believed by many--decided as to the
validity of the conflicting certificates, and in effect determined
as to the Presidential succession.
The justification of the act creating the commission might well
rest upon the fact that an overshadowing emergency had arisen,
where necessity becomes the paramount law. "The pendulum of history
swings in centuries," and a single term of the great office weighed
little in view of the perils that surely awaited a failure to secure
peaceful adjustment.
I may be pardoned for adding that in the retrospect of a life,
no longer a short one, I have no regrets that my humble voice
and vote were given for peaceable and lawful adjustment of a perilous
controversy, that cast its dark shadow across our national pathway
--such a one, as, please God, our country may never witness again.
Unquestionably the least satisfactory of the devices of our Federal
Constitution is that for the election of President and Vice-President
through the instrumentality of colleges of electors chosen by
the several States. Upon this subject notes of warning have
been many times sounded by eminent statesmen of the past. In view
of the hazardous complications through which we have happily passed,
and of those which may possibly beset our future pathway as a
nation, it would indeed be the part of wisdom, if by Constitutional
amendment a less complicated and cumbrous instrumentality could be
devised for ascertaining and making effective the popular will
in the selection of President and Vice-President of the United
States.
One of the apprehensions of the framers of the Constitution was
that of executive usurpation of functions lawfully pertaining to
the co-ordinate department of the Government. This was measurably
guarded against by the provision requiring appointment to high
office to be by and with the advice and consent of the Senate.
While the President by the exercise of the veto power possesses
a negative upon legislation, the Senate by virtue of the provision
quoted has an equally effective negative upon executive appointments
to important office.
To the President is confided primarily the treaty-making power.
Treaties are the law of the land, and their observance in spirit
as well as letter touches the national honor. Upon this often
depends the issue of peace or war. Before becoming effective their
ratification by a two-thirds vote of the Senate is indispensable.
From these and other safeguards strikingly appear what are known
as "the checks and balances" of the Constitution.
An important function of the Senate yet to be mentioned is that of
sitting as a high court of impeachment. The President, Vice-President,
and other high officials are amenable to its jurisdiction. The
initial step, however, in such procedure is by the House of
Representatives, as the grand inquest of the nation, presenting
articles of impeachment, the Senate possessing the sole power of
trial. Six times only in our history has the Senate been resolved
into a Court of Impeachment, and only twice--in the case of district
judges--has there been a conviction. The earliest trial, more than
a century ago, was that of a supreme justice, Chase of Maryland.
Apart from the high official position of the accused, and the august
tribunal before which he was arraigned, this trial is of
historic interest from the fact that it involved the once famous
Alien and Sedition Laws; that John Randolph was chief of the managers
on the part of the House; Pinckney, Martin, and William Wirt of
counsel for the defence; and Vice-President Aaron Burr, the presiding
officer of the court.
The trial of Belknap, Secretary of War, is still within the memory
of many. As a member of the House, I attended it from the beginning.
It appearing from the evidence that Belknap had resigned his office
before the presentation of the articles of impeachment, he was
acquitted. The fate of General Belknap was indeed a sad one, that
of a hitherto honorable career suddenly terminated under a cloud.
Morally guiltless himself, his chivalric assumption of responsibility
for the act of one near to him, and his patiently abiding the
consequence, has invested with something of pathos, and even romance,
the memory of his trial.
An impeachment that has left its deep impress upon history, and
before which all others pale into insignificance, was that of
President Johnson, charged by the House of Representatives with
the commission of "high crimes and misdemeanors." He had been
elected to the second place upon the ticket with Mr. Lincoln in
1864, and upon the death of the latter, succeeded to the Presidency.
Radical differences with the majority in the Congress, upon questions
vital and far-reaching, ultimately culminated in the presentation of
articles of impeachment. Partisan feeling was at its height,
and the excitement throughout the country intense. The trial
was protracted for many weeks without jot or tittle of abatement
in the public interest. The chief managers on the part of the
House were Benjamin F. Butler and Thaddeus Stevens. The array
of counsel for the accused included the names of Benjamin R. Curtis,
Henry Stanberry, and William M. Evarts. The Senate, in its high
character of a court, was presided over for the first and only time
by the Chief Justice of the United States. The trial was conducted
with marked decorum; every phase of questions touching the exercise
of executive authority, or lawful discretion, was fully discussed,
the very springs of legislative power, and its limitation under
Constitutional government, were laid bare--all with an eloquence
unparalleled save only in the wondrous efforts of Sheridan, Fox,
and Burke in the historic impeachment of Warren Hastings before
the British House of Lords. The spectacle presented was one
that challenged the attention and wonder of the nations; that of
the chief magistrate of a great republic at the bar of justice,
calmly awaiting judgment without popular disturbance or attempted revolt,
under the safeguards of law and its appointments. The highest test
of the virtue of our system of representative government, and of
the unfaltering devotion of our people to its prescribed methods, is
to be found in the fact, that during the protracted trial the
various departments proceeded with wonted regularity; the verdict of
the Senate was acquiesced in without manifestation of hostility;
partisan passion soon abated and the great impeachment peaceably
relegated to the domain of history.
The House of Representatives has an official life of short duration.
Its reorganization is biennial. The Senate is enduring. Always
organized, it is the continuing body of our national legislature.
Its members change, but the Senate continues the same now, as in
the first hour of the Republic.
In his last great speech in the Senate, Mr. Webster said:
"It is fortunate that there is a Senate of the United States; a
body not yet moved from its propriety, not lost to a full sense of
its own dignity and its own high responsibilities, and a body to
which the country looks with confidence for wise, moderate, patriotic,
and healing counsels."
Upon the first assembling of the Senate in its present magnificent
chamber nearly half a century ago, the Vice-President closed his
eloquent dedicatory address with the words:
"Though these marble walls moulder into ruins, the Senate in another
age may bear into a new and larger chamber the Constitution vigorous
and inviolate, and the last generation of posterity shall witness the
deliberations of the representatives of American States still
united, prosperous, and free."
VI
A TRIBUTE TO LINCOLN
THE WRITER'S SPEECH AT THE LINCOLN CENTENNIAL CELEBRATION, 1909
--PATRIOTIC CHARACTER OF THE MEETING--LEADING HISTORICAL EVENTS
BETWEEN 1809 AND 1909--BIRTH OF LINCOLN--TERRITORIAL ORGANIZATION OF
ILLINOIS--BIRTH OF DARWIN AND GLADSTONE--CAREER OF NAPOLEON--WAR
OF 1812--THE SLAVERY QUESTION--SEIZURE AND SURRENDER OF MASON
AND SLIDELL--EMANCIPATION OF SLAVES.
February 12, 1909, will long be remembered as the day of the
celebration of the hundredth anniversary of the birth of Abraham
Lincoln. For on that day was the culmination of a celebration
which, in various parts of the country, had begun at least a
week before. Rarely has there been an occasion of so much decoration,
so many addresses, or so much patriotism. The largest celebration
occurred in New York City, but that of Chicago, if not so large,
was at least as interesting and impressive, for in it and surrounding
parts of Illinois some of the most memorable events in the life of
Lincoln took place. Yet these manifestations were not a whit more
patriotic than those of many small towns and villages.
Every hamlet, every town, and every city of the United States seemed
to be imbued with a desire to do honor to the memory of the man
Lincoln. Every newspaper and every magazine of whatever name or
order was filled with pictures, anecdotes, and sketches of the life
of "Honest Abe." Books galore were published emphasizing every
phase of his life, character, work, and influence; and they sold
well.
My contribution to this occasion was the following speech delivered
at Bloomington, Illinois, February 12:
"We have assembled to commemorate one of the epoch-making events
in history. In the humblest of homes in the wilds of a new and
sparsely settled State, Abraham Lincoln was born one hundred years
ago, this day.
"The twelfth day of February, like the twenty-second day of the
same month, is one of the sacred days in the American calendar.
It is well that this day be set apart from ordinary uses, the
headlong rush in the crowded mart suspended, the voice of fierce
contention in legislative halls be hushed, and that the American
people--whether at home, in foreign lands, or upon the deep--honor
themselves by honoring the memory of the man of whose birth this
day is the first centennial.
"This coming together is no idle ceremony, no unmeaning observance.
To this man, more than to any other, are we indebted for the supreme
fact that ninety millions of people are at this hour, in the loftiest
sense of the expression, fellow-citizens of a common country. Some
of us, through the mists of half a century, distinctly recall
the earnest tones in which Mr. Lincoln in public speech uttered
the words, 'My fellow-citizens.' Truly the magical words
'fellow-citizens' never fail to touch a responsive chord in the
patriotic heart. Was it the gifted Prentiss who at a critical
moment of our history exclaimed:
"'For whether upon the Sabine or the St. John's; standing in
the shadow of Bunker Hill or amid the ruins of Jamestown; near
the great northern lakes or within the sound of the Father of
Waters flowing unvexed to the sea; in the crowded mart of the
great metropolis or upon the western verge of the continent,
where the restless tide of emigration is stayed only by the
ocean--everywhere upon this broad domain, thank God, I can still
say "fellow-citizens"!'
"Let us pause for a moment and briefly note some of the marvellous
results wrought out by the toil, strife, and sacrifice of the
century whose close we commemorate. The Year of Our Lord 1809 was
one of large place in history. The author of the Declaration of
Independence was upon the eve of final retirement from public place,
and the Presidential term of James Madison just beginning, when in
a log cabin near the western verge of civilization the eyes of
Abraham Lincoln first opened upon the world. The vast area
stretching from the Rocky Mountains to the Pacific Ocean was under
the dominion of Spain. Two decades only had passed since the
establishment of the United States Government under the Federal
Constitution, and the inauguration of Washington as its first
President. Lewis and Clark had but recently returned from the now
historic expedition to the Columbia and the Oregon,--an expedition
fraught with momentous consequences to the oncoming generations of
the Republic. Only five years had passed since President Jefferson
had purchased, for fifteen millions of dollars from Napoleon
Bonaparte, the Louisiana country, extending from the Gulf of Mexico
to the frozen lakes, out of which were to be carved sixteen
magnificent States to become enduring parts of the American
Republic. From the early Colonial settlements that fringed the
Atlantic, a tide of hardy emigration was setting in to the westward,
and, regardless of privation or danger, laying the sure foundation
of future commonwealths. Four States only had been admitted into the
Federal Union, and the population of the entire country was less
than that of the State of New York to-day. This same year witnessed
the first organization of Illinois into a distinct political
community and its creation, by act of Congress, as the Territory
of Illinois, with a white population less than one-twentieth of
that of this good county to-day. The United States having
barely escaped a war with France,--our ally in securing our
independence,--was earnestly struggling for distinct place among
the nations.
"No less significant, and fraught with deep consequences, were
events occurring in the Old Worlds. The year 1809 witnessed the
birth of Darwin and Gladstone. The despotism of the Dark Ages
still brooded over Continental Europe, and whatever savored of
popular public rule--even in its mildest form--was yet in the
distant future. Alexander the First was on the throne of Russia,--
and her millions of serfs were oppressed as by the iron hand of
the Caesars. The splendid German Empire of to-day had no place on
the map of the world; its present powerful constituencies were
antagonistic provinces and warring independent cities. Napoleon
Bonaparte--'calling Fate into the lists'--by a succession of
victories unparalleled in history had overturned thrones, compelled
kings upon bended knee to sue for peace, and substituted those
of his own household for dynasties that reached back the entire
length of human history. With his star still in the ascendant,
disturbed by no forecast of the horrid nightmare of the retreat
from Moscow, 'with legions scattered by the artillery of the snows
and the cavalry of the winds,' tortured by no dream of Leipsic, of
Elba, of Waterloo, of St. Helena, he was still the 'man of destiny,'
--relentlessly pursuing the _ignis fatuus_ of universal empire.
"The year that witnessed the birth of Abraham Lincoln witnessed
the gathering of the disturbing elements that were to precipitate the
second war with the mother country. England--with George the Third
still upon the throne--by insulting and cruel search of American
vessels upon the high seas, was rendering inevitable the declaration
of war by Congress,--a war of humiliation upon our part by the
disgraceful surrender of Hull at Detroit and the wanton burning of
our Capitol, but crowned with honor by the naval victories of
Lawrence, Decatur, and Perry, and eventually terminated by the
capture of the British army at New Orleans. As an object lesson
of the marvels of the closing century, an event of such momentous
consequence to the world as the formulation of the Treaty of Ghent,
by which peace was restored between England and America, would to-day
be known at every fireside a few hours after its occurrence. And yet,
within the now closing century, the battle of New Orleans was fought
twenty-three days after the Treaty of Ghent, coming by slow-sailing
vessels across the Atlantic, had received the signature of our
commissioners; all unsettled accounts squared eternally between America
and Great Britain; and the United States, by valor no less than by
diplomacy, exalted to honored and enduring place among the nations.
"The fifty-six years that compassed the life of Abraham Lincoln
were years of transcendent significance to our country. While
he was yet in his rude cradle the African slave trade had just
terminated by constitutional inhibition. While Lincoln was still in
attendance upon the old field school, Henry Clay--yet to be known as
the 'great pacificator'--was pressing the admission of Missouri
into the Union under the first compromise upon the question of
slavery since the adoption of the Federal Constitution. From
the establishment of the Government the question of human
slavery was the one perilous question,--the one constant menace to
national unity, until its final extinction amid the flames of war.
Marvellous to man are the purposes of the Almighty. What seer
could have foretold that, from this humblest of homes upon the
frontier, was to spring the man who at the crucial moment should
cut the Gordian knot, liberate a race, and give to the ages enlarged
and grander conception of the deathless principles of the declaration
of human rights?
"'Often do the spirits of great events
Stride on before the events,
And in to-day already walks to-morrow.'
"The first inauguration of President Lincoln noted the hour of
breaking with the past. It was a period of gloom, when the very
foundations were shaken, when no man could foretell the happening of
the morrow, when strong men trembled at the possibility of the
destruction of our Government.
"Pause a moment, and recall the man who, under the conditions
mentioned, on the fourth of March, 1861, entered upon the duties
of the great office to which he had been chosen. He came from the
common walks of life--from what, in other countries, would be called
the great middle class. His early home was one of the humblest,
where he was a stranger to the luxuries and to many of the ordinary
comforts of life. His opportunities for education were only such as
were common in the remote habitations of our Western country one
century ago.
"Under such conditions, began a career which in grandeur and
achievement has but a single counterpart in our history. And what
a splendid commentary this upon our free institutions,--upon the
sublime underlying principle of popular government! How inspiring
to the youth of high aims every incident of the pathway that led
from the frontier cabin to the Executive Mansion,--from the humblest
position to the most exalted yet attained by man! In no other
country than ours could such attainment have been possible for the
boy whose hands were inured to toil, whose bread was eaten under
the hard conditions that poverty imposes, whose only heritage
was brain, integrity, lofty ambition, and indomitable purpose.
Let it never be forgotten that the man of whom I speak possessed
an integrity that could know no temptation, a purity of life that was
never questioned, a patriotism that no sectional lines could limit,
and a fixedness of purpose that knew no shadow of turning.
"The decade extending from our first treaty of peace with Great
Britain to the inauguration of Washington has been truly denominated
the critical period of our history. The eloquence of Adams and
Henry had precipitated revolution; the unfaltering courage of
Washington and his comrades had secured independence; but the more
difficult task of garnering up the fruits of victory by stable
government was yet to be achieved. The hour for the constructive
statesman had arrived, and James Madison and his associates, equal to
the great emergency, formulated the Federal Constitution.
"No less critical was the period that bounded the active life of
the man whose memory we honor to-day. One perilous question to
national unity which for nearly three-quarters of a century had
been the subject of repeated compromise by patriotic statesmen;
the apple of discord producing sectional antagonism, whose shadow had
darkened our national pathway from the beginning,--was now for weal
or woe to find determination. Angry debate in the Senate and upon
the forum was now hushed, and the supreme question that took hold of
national life was to find enduring arbitrament in the dread tribunal
of war.
"It was well that in such an hour, with such tremendous issues
in the balance, a steady hand was at the helm; that a conservative
statesman--one whose mission was to save, not to destroy--was in
the high place of responsibility and power. It booted little then
that he was untaught of schools, unskilled in the ways of courts, but
it was of supreme moment that he could touch responsive chords
in the great American heart, all-important that his very soul
yearned for the preservation of the Government established through
the toil and sacrifice of the generation that had gone. How
hopeless the Republic in that dark hour, had its destiny hung upon
the statecraft of Talleyrand, the eloquence of Mirabeau, or the
genius of Napoleon! It was fortunate indeed that the ark of our
covenant was then borne by the plain, brave man of conciliatory
spirit and kind words, whose heart, as Emerson has said, 'was as
large as the world, but nowhere had room for the memory of a wrong.'
"Nobler words have never fallen from human lips than the closing
sentences of his first inaugural uttered on one of the pivotal days
of human history, immediately after taking the oath to preserve,
protect, and defend his country:
"'I am loath to close. We are not enemies, but friends. Though
passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.
The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and
patriot's grave to every heart and hearthstone of this broad land,
will yet swell the chorus of the Union when touched as they will
be by the better angels of our nature.'
"In the light of what we now know so well, nothing is hazarded
in saying that the death of no man has been to his country so
irreparable a loss, or one so grievous to be borne, as that of
Abraham Lincoln. When Washington died his work was done, his life
well rounded out. Save one, the years allotted had been passed.
Not so with Lincoln. To him a grander task was yet in waiting,
one no other could so well perform. The assassin's pistol proved the
veritable Pandora's box from which sprung evils untold,--whose
consequences have never been measured.--to one-third of the States
of our Union. But for his untimely death how the current of history
might have been changed,--and many a sad chapter remained unwritten!
How earnestly he desired a restored Union, and that the blessings of
peace and of concord should be the common heritage of every section,
is known to all.
"When in the loom of time have such words been heard above the din
of fierce conflict as his sublime utterances but a brief time before
his tragic death--
"'With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness
in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on
to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds; to
care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow
and his orphan, to do all which may achieve a lasting peace
among ourselves, and with all nations.'
"No fitter occasion than this can ever arise in which to refer
to two historical events that at crucial moments tested to the
utmost the safe and far-seeing statesmanship of President Lincoln.
The first was the seizure upon the high seas of Mason and Slidell,
the accredited representatives from the Southern Confederacy to
the courts of England and France, respectively. The seizure was
in November, 1861, by Captain Wilkes of our navy; and the envoys
named were taken by him from the _Trent,_ a mail-carrying steamer of
the British Government. The act of Captain Wilkes met with
enthusiastic commendation throughout the entire country; he was
voted the thanks of Congress, and his act publicly approved by the
Secretary of the Navy.
"The demand by the British government for reparation upon the part
of the United States was prompt and explicit. The perils that then
environed us were such as rarely shadow the pathway of nations.
Save Russia alone, our Government had no friend among the crowned heads
of Europe. Menaced by the peril of the recognition of the Southern
Confederacy by England and France, with the very stars apparently warring
against us in their courses, the position of the President was
in the last degree trying. To surrender the Confederate envoys
was in a measure humiliating and in opposition to the popular
impulse; their retention, the signal for the probable recognition of
the Southern Confederacy by the European powers, and the certain
and immediate declaration of war by England.
"The good genius of President Lincoln--rather his wise, just,
far-seeing statesmanship--stood him well in hand at the critical
moment. Had a rash and impulsive man then held the executive
office, what a sea of troubles might have overwhelmed us! How the
entire current of our history might have been changed!
"The calm, wise President, in his council chamber, aided by his
closest official adviser, Secretary Seward, discerned clearly
the path of national safety and of honor. None the less was the
act of the President one of justice, one that will abide the
sure test of time. Upon the real ground that the seizure of the
envoys was in violation of the Law of Nations, they were eventually
surrendered, and war with England, as well as the immediate danger
of recognition of the Confederacy, averted. Let it not be forgotten
that this very act of President Lincoln was a triumphant vindication
of our Government in its second war with Great Britain--a war waged
as a protest on our part against British seizure and impressment
of American citizens upon the high seas.
"The other incident, to which I briefly refer, was the proclamation
of emancipation. As a war measure of stupendous significance in
the national defence, as well as of justice to the enslaved,
such proclamation, immediate in time and radical in terms, had
to greater or less degree been urged upon the President from the
outbreak of the Rebellion. That slavery was to perish amid the
great upheaval became in time the solemn conviction of all thoughtful
men. Meanwhile there were divided counsels among the earnest
supporters of the President as to the time the masterful act 'that
could know no backward steps' should be taken. Unmoved amid divided
counsels, and at times fierce dissensions, the calm, far-seeing
executive, upon whom was cast the tremendous responsibility,
patiently bided his time. Events that are now the masterful theme
of history crowded in rapid succession, the opportune moment arrived,
the hour struck, the proclamation that has no counterpart fell upon
the ears of the startled world, and, as by the interposition of a
mightier hand, a race was lifted out of the depths of bondage.
"To the one man at the helm it seemed to have been given to know
the day and the hour. At the crucial moment, in one of the exalted
days of human history,
"'He sounded forth the trumpet that has never called
retreat.'
"The men who knew Abraham Lincoln, who saw him face to face, who
heard his voice in public assemblage, have with few exceptions
passed to the grave. Another generation is upon the busy stage.
The book has forever closed upon the dreadful pageant of civil
strife. Sectional animosities, thank God, belong now only to
the past. The mantle of Peace is over our entire land, and prosperity
within our borders.
"'The war-drum throbs no longer,
And the battle flags are furled
In the parliament of men,
The federation of the world.'
"Through the instrumentality, in no small measure, of the man whose
memory we now honor, the Government established by our fathers,
untouched by the finger of Time, has descended to us. The
responsibility of its preservation and transmission rests upon the
successive generations as they come and go. To-day, at this
auspicious hour sacred to the memory of Lincoln, let us, his
countrymen, inspired by the sublime lessons of his wondrous life, and
grateful to God for all He has vouchsafed to our fathers and to us
in the past, take courage and turn our faces resolutely, hopefully,
trustingly to the future. I know of no words more fitting with
which to close this humble tribute to the memory of Abraham Lincoln,
than those inscribed upon the monument of Moliere:
"'Nothing was wanting to his glory; he was wanting to
ours.'"
VII
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS
DOUGLAS'S HARDSHIPS IN YOUTH--HE IS ADMITTED TO THE BAR--JACKSON'S
TRIUMPH OVER ADAMS IN 1828--DOUGLAS ENTERS THE ARENA OF DEBATE
AT THE AGE OF 22--BECOMES ATTORNEY-GENERAL--CHOSEN TO THE TENTH
GENERAL ASSEMBLY OF ILLINOIS--BECOMES SECRETARY OF STATE IN ILLINOIS
--DEFENDS JACKSON'S DECLARATION OF MARTIAL LAW AT NEW ORLEANS--
TAKES PART IN THE OREGON BOUNDARY DEBATE--ADVOCATES THE ANNEXATION
OF TEXAS--IS ELECTED TO THE SENATE--ADVOCATES THE ADMISSION OF
CALIFORNIA AS A FREE STATE--HE PROCURES A LAND GRANT TO THE ILLINOIS
CENTRAL RAILROAD COMPANY--IN DEBATING THE KANSAS-NEBRASKA BILL
HE CONTENDS FOR POPULAR SOVEREIGNTY--ORIGIN OF THE REPUBLICAN PARTY
--DOUGLAS LOSES THE FRIENDSHIP OF THE SOUTH--DEBATES BETWEEN DOUGLAS
AND LINCOLN--LINCOLN'S EARLY HISTORY--DOUGLAS'S REASONS FOR
ADVOCATING POPULAR SOVEREIGNTY--LINCOLN'S REPLY--THE SLAVERY QUESTION
--THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY RENT ASUNDER--CONSEQUENT FAILURE OF DOUGLAS
TO WIN THE PRESIDENCY--HIS DEATH.
History has been defined, "the sum of the biographies of a few
strong men." Much that is of profound and abiding interest in
American history during the two decades immediately preceding
our Civil War is bound up in the biography of the strong man of
whom I write. Chief among the actors, his place was near the middle
of the stage during that eventful and epoch-making period.
Stephen A. Douglas was born in Brandon, Vermont, April 23, 1813,
and died in Chicago, Illinois, June 3, 1861. Between the dates
given lie the years that up a crowded, eventful life. Left penniless
by the death of his father, he was at a tender age dependent upon his
own exertions for maintenance and education. At the age of fifteen
he apprenticed himself to a cabinet-maker in the town of Middlebury
in his native State. Naturally of delicate organization, he was
unable long to endure the physical strain of this calling, and
at the close of two years' service he returned to his early home.
Entering an academy in Brandon, he there for a time pursued with
reasonable diligence the studies preparatory to a higher course.
Supplementing the education thus acquired, by a brief course of
study in an academy at Canandaigua, New York, at the age of twenty
he turned his footsteps westward.
One of his biographers says:
"It is doubtful if among all the thousands who in those early days
were constantly faring westward from New England, Virginia, and
the Carolinas, there ever was a youth more resolutely and boldly
addressed to opportunity than he. Penniless, broken in health,
almost diminutive in physical stature, and unknown, he made his
way successively to Cincinnati, Louisville, and St. Louis, in search
of employment, literally of bread."
By a sudden turn in fortune's wheel his lot was cast in Central
Illinois, where his first vocation was that of teacher of a village
school. Yet later--after laborious application--admitted to the
bar, he courageously entered upon his marvellous career.
His home was Jacksonville, and to the hardy pioneers of Morgan and
neighboring counties, it was soon revealed that notwithstanding
his slight stature and boyish appearance the youthful Douglas was at
once to be taken fully into the account. Self-reliant to the very
verge, he unhesitatingly entered the arena of active professional and
political strife with foemen worthy the steel of veterans at the
bar, and upon the hustings.
The issues were sharply drawn between the two political parties
then struggling for ascendancy, and Central Illinois was the home of
as brilliant an array of gifted leaders as the Whig party at any
time in its palmiest days had known. Hardin, Stuart, Browning,
Logan, Baker, Lincoln were just then upon the threshold of careers
that have given their names honored and enduring place upon the
pages of our history. Into the safe keeping of the leaders just
named, were entrusted in large degree the advocacy of the principles
of the now historic party, and the political fortunes of its great
chieftain, Henry Clay.
As is well known, the principal antagonist of the renowned Whig
chieftain was Andrew Jackson. Earlier in their political careers,
both had been earnest supporters of the administration of President
Monroe, but at its close the leaders last named, with Adams and
Crawford, were aspirants to the great office. No candidate receiving
a majority of the electoral votes and the selection by Constitutional
requirement devolving upon the House of Representatives, Mr. Adams
was eventually chosen. His election over his principal competitor,
General Jackson, was largely through the influence of Mr. Clay;
and the subsequent acceptance by the latter of the office of
Secretary of State gave rise to the unfounded but vehement cry
of "Bargain and corruption," which followed the Kentucky statesman
through two presidential struggles of later periods, and died wholly
away only when the clods had fallen upon his grave.
Triumphant in his candidacy over Adams in 1828, President Jackson,
four years later, encountered as his formidable competitor his
colossal antagonist--the one man for whom he had no forgiveness,
even when the shadows were gathering about his own couch.
"The early and better days of the Republic" is by no means an
unusual expression in the political literature of our day. Possibly
all the generations of men have realized the significance of the
words of the great bard:
"Past and to come seem best;
Things present worst.
We are time's subjects."
And yet, barring the closing months of the administration of the
elder Adams, this country has known no period of more intense party
passion, or of more deadly feuds among political leaders, than was
manifested during the presidential contest of 1832. The Whig party,
with Henry Clay as its candidate and its idol, was for the first
time in the field. Catching something of the spirit of its imperious
leader, its campaign was recklessly aggressive. The scabbard was
thrown away, and all the lines of retreat cut off from the beginning.
No act of the party in power escaped the lime-light; no delinquency,
real or imaginary, of Jackson--its candidate for re-election--
but was ruthlessly drawn into the open day. Even the domestic
hearthstone was invaded and antagonisms engendered that knew no
surcease until the last of the chief participants in the
eventful struggle had descended to the tomb.
The defeat of Clay but intensified his hostility toward his successful
rival, and with a following that in personal devotion to its leader
has scarcely known a parallel, he was at once the peerless front
of a powerful opposition to the Jackson administration.
Such were the existing political conditions throughout the country
when Stephen A. Douglas, at the age of twenty-two, first entered
the arena of debate. It would not be strange if such environment left
its deep impress, and measurably gave direction to his political
career. The period of probation and training so essential to
ordinary men was unneeded by him. Fully equipped--and with a
self-confidence that has rarely had a counterpart--he was from the
beginning the earnest defender of the salient measures of the
Democratic administration, and the aggressive champion of President
Jackson. Absolutely fearless, he took no reckoning of the opposing
forces, and regardless of the prowess or ripe experience of
adversaries, he at all times, in and out of season, gladly welcomed
the encounter. To this end, he did not await opportunities, but
eagerly sought them.
His first contest for public office was with John J. Hardin, by no
means the least gifted of the brilliant Whig leaders already
mentioned. Defeated by Douglas in his candidacy for re-election
to the office of Attorney General, Colonel Hardin at a later day
achieved distinction as a Representative in Congress, and at the
early age of thirty-seven fell while gallantly leading his regiment
upon the bloody field of Buena Vista. In the catalogue of men
worthy of remembrance, there is to be found the name of no braver,
manlier man, than that of John J. Hardin.
With well-earned laurels as public prosecutor, Douglas resigned,
after two years' incumbency of that office, to accept that of
Representative in the State Legislature. The Tenth General Assembly
--to which he was chosen--was the most notable in Illinois history.
Upon the roll of members of the House--in the old Capitol at Vandalia
--are names inseparably associated with the history of the State
and the nation. From its list were yet to be chosen two Governors
of the commonwealth, one member of the Cabinet, three Justices
of the Supreme Court of the State, eight Representatives in Congress,
six Senators, and one President of the United States. That
would indeed be a notable assemblage of law-makers in any country or
time, that included in its membership McClernand, Edwards,
Ewing, Semple, Logan, Hardin, Browning, Shields, Baker, Stuart,
Douglas, and Lincoln.
In this assembly, Douglas encountered in impassioned debate, possibly
for the first time, two men against whom in succession he was soon
to be opposed upon the hustings as candidate for Congress; and
later as an aspirant to yet more exalted stations, another, with
whose name--now "given to the ages"--his own is linked inseparably
for all time.
The most brilliant and exciting contest for the national House
of Representatives the State has known--excepting possibly that of
Cook and McLean a decade and a half earlier--was that of 1838
between John T. Stuart and Stephen A. Douglas. They were the
recognized champions of their respective parties. The district
embraced two-thirds of the area of the State, extending from the
counties immediately south of Sangamon and Morgan, northward to
Lake Michigan and the Wisconsin line. Together on horseback, often
across unbridged streams, and through pathless forest and prairie,
they journeyed, holding joint debates in all the county seats of
the district--including the then villages of Jacksonville, Springfield,
Peoria, Pekin, Bloomington, Quincy, Joliet, Galena, and Chicago.
That the candidates were well matched in ability and eloquence
readily appears from the fact that after an active canvass of
several months, Major Stuart was elected by a majority of but eight
votes. By re-elections he served six years in the House of
Representatives and was one of its ablest and most valuable members.
In Congress, he was the political friend and associate of
Crittenden, Winthrop, Clay, and Webster. Major Stuart lives in my
memory as a splendid type of the Whig statesman of the Golden Age.
Courteous and kindly, he was at all times a Kentucky gentleman
of the old school if ever one trod this blessed earth.
Returning to the bar after his defeat for Congress, Douglas was,
in quick succession, Secretary of State by appointment of the
Governor, and Judge of the Circuit and Supreme Courts by election by
the Legislature. The courts he held as _nisi prius_ judge were in
the Quincy circuit, and the last-named city for a time his home.
His associates upon the Supreme Bench were Justices Treat, Caton, Ford,
Wilson, Scates, and Lockwood. His opinions, twenty-one in number,
will be found in Scammon's Reports. There was little in any of
the causes submitted to test fully his capacity as lawyer or
logician. Enough, however, appears from his clear and concise
statements and arguments to justify the belief that had his life
been unreservedly given to the profession of the law, his
talents concentrated upon the mastery of its eternal principles,
he would in the end have been amply rewarded "by that mistress who
is at the same time so jealous and so just." This, however, was
not to be, and to a field more alluring his footsteps were now
turned. Abandoning the bench to men less ambitious, he was soon
embarked upon the uncertain and delusive sea of politics.
His unsuccessful opponent for Congress in 1842 was the Hon. Orville
H. Browning, with whom, in the State Legislature, he had measured swords
over a partisan resolution sustaining the financial policy of
President Jackson. "The whirligig of time brings in his revenges,"
and it so fell out that near two decades later it was the fortune of
Mr. Browning to occupy a seat in the Senate as the successor of
Douglas--"touched by the finger of death." At a later day, Mr.
Browning, as a member of the Cabinet of President Johnson, acquitted
himself with honor in the discharge of the exacting duties of
Secretary of the Interior. So long as men of high aims, patriotic
hearts, and noble achievements are held in grateful remembrance,
his name will have honored place in our country's annals.
The career upon which Douglas now entered was the one for which he
was pre-eminently fitted, and to which he had aspired from the
beginning. It was a career in which national fame was to be
achieved, and--by re-elections to the House, and later to the Senate
--to continue without interruption to the last hour of his life.
He took his seat in the House of Representatives, December 5, 1843,
and among his colleagues were Semple and Breese of the Senate, and
Hardin, McClernand, Ficklin, and Wentworth of the House. Mr.
Stephens of Georgia,--with whom it was my good fortune to serve in
the forty-fourth and forty-sixth Congresses--told me that he entered
the House the same day with Douglas, and that he distinctly recalled
the delicate and youthful appearance of the latter as he advanced to
the Speaker's desk to receive the oath of office. Conspicuous
among the leaders of the House in the twenty-eighth Congress were
Hamilton Fish, Washington Hunt, Henry A. Wise, Howell Cobb, Joshua
R. Giddings, Linn Boyd, John Slidell, Barnwell Rhett, Robert C.
Winthrop, the Speaker, Hannibal Hamlin, elected Vice-President upon
the ticket with Mr. Lincoln in 1860, Andrew Johnson, the successor
of the lamented President in 1865, and John Quincy Adams, whose
brilliant career as Ambassador, Senator, Secretary of State, and
President, was rounded out by nearly two decades of faithful service
as a Representative in Congress.
The period that witnessed the entrance of Douglas into the great
Commons was an eventful one in our political history. John Tyler,
upon the death of President Harrison, had succeeded to the great
office, and was in irreconcilable hostility to the leaders of
his party upon the vital issues upon which the Whig victory of 1840
had been achieved. Henry Clay--then at the zenith of his marvellous
powers--merciless in his arraignment of the Tyler administration, was
unwittingly breeding the party dissentions that eventually compassed
his own defeat in his last struggle for the Presidency. Daniel
Webster, regardless of the criticism of party associates, and after
the retirement of his Whig colleagues from the Tyler cabinet, still
remained at the head of the State Department. His vindication, if
needed, abundantly appears in the treaty by which our northeastern
boundary was definitely adjusted, and war with England happily
averted.
In the rush of events, party antagonisms, in the main, soon fade
from remembrance. One, however, that did not pass with the occasion,
but lingered even to the shades of the Hermitage, was unrelenting
hostility to President Jackson. For his declaration of martial law in
New Orleans just prior to the battle--with which his own name is
associated for all time--General Jackson had been subjected to a heavy
fine by a judge of that city. Repeated attempts in Congress looking to
his vindication and reimbursement, had been unavailing. Securing the
floor for the first time, Douglas--upon the anniversary of the great
victory--delivered an impassioned speech in vindication of Jackson
which at once challenged the attention of the country, and gave him high
place among the great debaters of that memorable Congress. In
reply to the demand of an opponent for a precedent for the proposed
legislation, Douglas quickly responded:
"Possibly, sir, no case can be found on any page of American history
where the commanding officer has been fined for an act absolutely
necessary to the salvation of his country. As to precedents, let us make
one now that will challenge the admiration of the world and stand the
test of all the ages."
After a graphic description of conditions existing in New Orleans at
the time of Jackson's declaration of martial law, "the city filled
with traitors, anxious to surrender; spies transmitting information
to the camp of the enemy, British regulars--four-fold the number
of the American defenders--advancing to the attack--in this terrible
emergency, necessity became the paramount law, the responsibility was
taken, martial law declared, and a victory achieved unparalleled
in the annals of war; a victory that avenged the infamy of the
wanton burning of our nation's Capitol, fully, and for all time."
The speech was unanswered, the bill passed, and probably Douglas
knew no prouder moment than when, a few months later, upon a visit
to the Hermitage, he received the earnest thanks of the venerable
commander for his masterly vindication.
Two of the salient and far-reaching questions confronting the
statesmen of that eventful Congress pertained to the settlement of
the Oregon boundary question, and to the annexation of the republic
of Texas. The first-named question--left unsettled by the treaty of
Ghent--had been for two generations the apple of discord between
the American and British governments. That it at a critical moment
came near involving the two nations in a war is a well-known fact
in history. The platform upon which Mr. Polk had, in 1844, been
elected to the Presidency, asserted unequivocally the right of the
United States to the whole of the Oregon Territory. The boundary line
of "fifty-four-forty" was in many of the States the decisive party
watchword in that masterful contest.
Douglas, in full accord with his party upon this question, ably
canvassed Illinois in earnest advocacy of Mr. Polk's election.
When, at a later day, it was determined by the President and his
official advisers to abandon the party platform demand of "fifty-four
degrees and forty minutes" as the only settlement of the
disputed boundary, and accept that of the parallel of forty-nine
degrees--reluctantly proposed by Great Britain as a peaceable final
settlement--Mr. Douglas earnestly antagonizing any concession, was
at once in opposition to the administration he had assisted to
bring into power. Whether the part of wisdom was a strict adherence
to the platform dicta of "the whole of Oregon," or a reasonable
concession in the interest of peaceable adjustment of a dangerous
question, was long a matter of vehement discussion. It suffices that
the treaty with Great Britain establishing our northwestern boundary
upon the parallel last named was promptly ratified by the Senate, and
the once famous Oregon question peaceably relegated to the realm
of history.
A question--sixty odd years ago--equal in importance with that
of the Oregon boundary was the annexation of Texas. The "Lone Star
State" had been virtually an independent republic since the decisive
victory of General Houston over Santa Ana in 1837 at San Jacinto, and
its independence as such had been acknowledged by our own and
European governments. The hardy settlers of this new Commonwealth
were in the main emigrants from the United States, and earnestly
solicitous of admission into the Federal Union. The question of
annexation entered largely into the Presidential canvass of 1844, and
the "lone star" upon Democratic banners was an important factor in
securing the triumph of Mr. Polk in that bitterly contested
election. In the closing hours of the Tyler administration,
annexation was at length effected by joint resolution of Congress,
and Texas passed at once from an independent republic to a State
of the American Union. This action of Congress, however, gave deep
offence to the Mexican government, and was the initial in a series
of stirring events soon to follow. The Mexican invasion, the
brilliant victories won by American valor, and the treaty of peace
--by which our domain was extended westward to the Pacific--
constitute a thrilling chapter in the annals of war. Brief in
duration, the Mexican War was the training school for men whose
military achievements were yet to make resplendent the pages of
history. Under the victorious banners of the great commanders,
Taylor and Scott, were Thomas and Beauregard, Shields and Hill,
Johnston and Sherman, McClellan and Longstreet, Hancock and Stonewall
Jackson, Lee and Grant. In the list of heroes were eight future
candidates for the Presidency, three of whom--Taylor, Pierce,
and Grant--were triumphantly elected.
Meanwhile, at the nation's Capitol was held high debate over
questions second in importance to none that have engaged the profound
consideration of statesmen--that literally took hold of the issues
of war, conquest, diplomacy, peace, empire. From its inception,
Douglas was an unfaltering advocate of the project of annexation, and
as chairman of the Committee on Territories, bore prominent part
in the protracted and exciting debates consequent upon the passage
of that measure in the House of Representatives. In his celebrated
colloquy with Mr. Adams he contended that the joint resolution
he advocated was in reality only for the re-annexation of territory
originally ours under the Louisiana Purchase of 1803. That something
akin to the spirit of "manifest destiny" brooded over the discussion
may be gathered from the closing sentences of his speech:
"Our Federal system is admirably adapted to the whole continent;
and while I would not violate the laws of national or treaty
stipulations, or in any manner tarnish the national honor, I would
exert all legal and honorable means to drive Great Britain and the
last vestige of royal authority from the continent of North America,
and extend the limits of the republic from ocean to ocean."
Elected to the Senate at the age of thirty-four, Douglas took
his seat in that august body in December, 1847. On the same day
Abraham Lincoln took the oath of office as a member from Illinois in
the House of Representatives. The Senate was presided over by the
able and accomplished Vice-President, George M. Dallas. Seldom
has there been a more imposing list of great names than that which
now included the young Senator from Illinois. Conspicuous among
the Senators of the thirty States represented, were Dix of New
York, Dayton of New Jersey, Hale of New Hampshire, Clayton of
Delaware, Reverdy Johnson of Maryland, Mason of Virginia, King
of Alabama, Davis of Mississippi, Bell of Tennessee, Corwin of
Ohio, Crittenden of Kentucky, Breese of Illinois, Benton of Missouri,
Houston of Texas, Calhoun of South Carolina, and Webster of
Massachusetts. It need hardly be said that the debates of that
and the immediately succeeding Congress have possibly never been
surpassed in ability and eloquence by any deliberative assembly.
The one vital and portentous question--in some one of its many
phases--was that of human slavery. This institution--until its
final extinction amid the flames of war--cast its ominous shadow
over our nation's pathway from the beginning. From the establishment
of the Government under the Federal Constitution to the period
mentioned, it had been the constant subject of compromise and
concession.
Henry Clay was first known as "the great pacificator" by his tireless
efforts in the exciting struggle of 1820, over the admission of
Missouri--with its Constitution recognizing slavery--into the
Federal Union. Bowed with the weight of years, the Kentucky
statesman, from the retirement he had sought, in recognition of
the general desire of his countrymen, again returned to the theatre
of his early struggles and triumphs. The fires of ambition had
burned low by age and bereavement, but with earnest longing that
he might again pour oil upon the troubled waters, he presented
to the Senate, as terms of final peaceable adjustment of the slavery
question, the once famous compromise measures of 1850.
The sectional agitation then at its height was measurably the result
of the proposed disposition of territory acquired by the then recent
treaty with Mexico. The advocates and opponents of slavery extension
were at once in bitter antagonism, and the intensity of feeling
such as the country had rarely known.
The compromise measures--proposed by Mr. Clay in a general bill
--embraced the establishment of Territorial Governments for Utah
and New Mexico, the settlement of the Texas boundary, an amendment
to the Fugitive Slave Law, and the admission of California as a
free State. In entire accord with each proposition, Douglas had--by
direction of the Committee on Territories, of which he was the
chairman--reported a bill providing for the immediate admission of
California under its recently adopted free State Constitution.
Separate measures embracing the other propositions of the general bill
were likewise duly reported. These measures were advocated by the
Illinois Senator in a speech that at once won him recognized place
among the great debaters of that illustrious assemblage. After
many weeks of earnest, at times vehement, debate, the bills in the
form last mentioned were passed, and received the approval of
the President. Apart from the significance of these measures as
a peace offering to the country, their passage closed a memorable era
in our history. During their discussion Clay, Calhoun, and Webster
--"the illustrious triumvirate"--were heard for the last time in
the Senate. Greatest of the second generation of our statesmen,
associated in the advocacy of measures that in the early day of
the Republic had given us exalted place among the nations,
within brief time of each other, "shattered by the contentions
of the Great Hall, they passed to the chamber of reconciliation and
of silence."
Chief in importance of his public services to his State was that
of Senator Douglas in procuring from Congress a land grant to aid in
the construction of the Illinois Central Railroad. It is but
justice to the memory of his early colleague, Senator Breese, to
say that he had been the earnest advocate of a similar measure in a
former Congress. The bill, however, which after persistent opposition
finally became a law, was introduced and warmly advocated by Senator
Douglas. This act ceded to the State of Illinois--subject to
the disposal of the Legislature thereof--"for the purpose of aiding
in the construction of a railroad from the southern terminus of
the Illinois and Michigan Canal to a point at or near the junction
of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, with a branch of the same to
Chicago, and another to Dubuque, Iowa, every alternate section
of land designated by even numbers for six sections in width on
each side of said road, and its branches." It is difficult at this
day to realize the importance of this measure to the then sparsely
settled State. The grant in aggregate was near three million acres,
and was directly to the State. After appropriate action by the
State Legislature, the Illinois Central Railroad Company was duly
organized--and the road eventually constructed.
A recent historian has truly said:
"For this, if for no other public service to his State, the name
of Douglas was justly entitled to preservation by the erection
of that splendid monumental column which, overlooking the blue
waters of Lake Michigan, also overlooks for long distance that iron
highway which was in no small degree the triumph of his legislative
forecast and genius."
The measure now to be mentioned aroused deeper attention--more
anxious concern--throughout the entire country than any with which
the name of Douglas had yet been closely associated. It pertained
directly to slavery, the "bone of contention" between the North
and the South, the one dangerous quantity in our national politics
from the establishment of the Government. Beginning with its
recognition--though not in direct terms--in the Federal Constitution,
it had through two generations, in the interest of peace, been the
subject of repeated compromise.
As chairman of the Senate Committee on Territories, Douglas in the
early days of 1854 reported a bill providing for the organization of
the Territories of Nebraska and Kansas. This measure, which so
suddenly arrested public attention, is known in our political
history as the "Kansas-Nebraska Bill." Among its provisions was
one repealing the Missouri Compromise or restriction of 1820. The
end sought by the repeal was, as stated by Douglas, to leave the
people of said Territories respectively to determine the question of
the introduction or exclusion of slavery for themselves; in
other words, "to regulate their domestic institutions in their own
way, subject only to the Constitution of the United States."
The principle strenuously contended for was that of "popular
sovereignty" or non-intervention by Congress, in the affairs of
the Territories. In closing the protracted and exciting debate
just prior to the passage of the bill in the Senate, he said:
"There is another reason why I desire to see this principle recognized
as a rule of action in all time to come. It will have the effect to
destroy all sectional parties and sectional agitation. If you
withdraw the slavery question from the halls of Congress and the
political arena, and commit it to the arbitrament of those who are
immediately interested in and alone responsible for its consequences,
there is nothing left out of which sectional parties can be organized.
When the people of the North shall all be rallied under one banner,
and the whole South marshalled under another banner, and each
section excited to frenzy and madness by hostility to the institutions
of the other, then the patriot may well tremble for the perpetuity
of the Union. Withdraw the slavery question from the political
arena and remove it to the States and Territories, each to decide for
itself, and such a catastrophe can never happen."
These utterances of little more than half a century ago, fall
strangely upon our ears at this day. In the light of all that has
occurred in the long reach of years, how significant the words,
"No man is wiser than events"! Likewise, "The actions of men are to
be judged by the light surrounding them at the time--not by the
knowledge that comes after the fact." The immediate effect of the
passage of the Kansas-Nebraska Bill was directly the reverse of
that so confidently predicted by Douglas. The era of concord
between the North and the South did not return. The slavery
question--instead of being relegated to the recently organized
Territories for final settlement--at once assumed the dimensions
of a great national issue. The country at large--instead of a
single Territory--became the theatre of excited discussion. The
final determination was to be not that of a Territory, but of
the entire people.
One significant effect of the passage of the bill was the immediate
disruption of the Whig party. As a great national organization
--of which Clay and Webster had been eminent leaders, and Harrison
and Taylor successful candidates for the Presidency--it now passes
into history. Upon its ruins, the Republican party at once came
into being. Under the leadership of Fremont as its candidate, and
opposition by Congressional intervention to slavery extension as
its chief issue, it was a formidable antagonist to the Democratic party,
in the Presidential contest of 1856. Mr. Buchanan had defeated
Douglas in the nominating convention of his party that year.
His absence from the country as Minister to England, during the
exciting events just mentioned, it was thought would make him a
safer candidate than his chief competitor, Douglas. He had been
in no manner identified with the Kansas-Nebraska Bill, or the stormy
events which immediately followed its passage. In his letter of
acceptance, however, Mr. Buchanan had given his unqualified approval
of his party platform, which recognized and adopted "the principle
contained in the organic law establishing the Territories of Nebraska
and Kansas as embodying the only sound and safe solution of the
slavery question." Upon the principle here declared, issue was
joined by his political opponents, and the battle fought to the
bitter end.
Although Douglas had met personal defeat in his aspiration to
the Presidency, the principle of non-intervention by Congress in
the affairs of the Territories, for which he had so earnestly
contended, had been triumphant both in the convention of the party,
and at the polls. This principle, in its application to Kansas,
was soon to be put to the test. From its organization, that
Territory had been a continuous scene of disorder, often of violence.
In rapid succession three Governors appointed by the President had
resigned and departed the Territory, each confessing his inability
to maintain public order. The struggle for mastery between the
Free State advocates and their adversaries arrested the attention of
the entire country. It vividly recalled the bloody forays read of
in the old chronicles of hostile clans upon the Scottish border.
The parting of the ways between Senator Douglas and President
Buchanan was now reached. The latter had received the cordial
support of Douglas in the election which elevated him to the
Presidency. His determined opposition to the re-election of Douglas
became apparent as the Senatorial canvass progressed. The incidents
now to be related will explain this hostility, as well as bring to
the front one of the distinctive questions upon which much stress was
laid in the subsequent debates between Douglas and Lincoln.
A statesman of national reputation, the Hon. Robert J. Walker, was
at length appointed Governor of Kansas. During his brief administration
a convention assembled without his co-operation at Lecompton,
and formulated a Constitution under which application was soon made
for the admission of Kansas into the Union. This convention was
in part composed of non-residents, and in no sense reflected the
wishes of the majority of the _bona fide_ residents of the Territory.
The salient feature of the Constitution was that establishing
slavery. The Constitution was not submitted to the convention
to popular vote, but in due time forwarded to the President, and
by him laid before Congress, accompanied by a recommendation for
its approval, and the early admission of the new State into the
Union.
When the Lecompton Constitution came before the Senate, it at once
encountered the formidable opposition of Senator Douglas. In
unmeasured terms he denounced it as fraudulent, as antagonistic to
the wishes of the people of Kansas, and subversive of the basic
principle upon which the Territory had been organized. In the
attitude just assumed, Douglas at once found himself in line
with the Republicans, and in opposition to the administration he
had helped place in power. The breach thus created was destined
to remain unhealed. Moreover, his declaration of hostility to the
Lecompton Constitution was the beginning of the end of years of
close political affiliation with Southern Democratic statesmen.
From that moment Douglas lost prestige as a national leader of his
party. In more than one-half of the Democratic States he ceased to
be regarded as a probable or even possible candidate for the
Presidential succession. The hostility thus engendered followed
him to the Charleston convention of 1860, and throughout the exciting
Presidential contest which followed. But the humiliation of defeat
--brought about, as he believed, by personal hostility to himself--
was yet in the future. In the attempted admission of Kansas under
the Lecompton Constitution, Douglas was triumphant over the
administration and his former political associates from the South.
Under what was known as the "English Amendment," the obnoxious
Constitution was referred to the people of Kansas, and by them
overwhelmingly rejected.
The close of this controversy in the early months of 1858 left
Douglas in a position of much embarrassment. He had incurred
the active hostility of the President, and in large measure of his
adherents, without gaining the future aid of his late associates
in the defeat of the Lecompton Constitution. His Senatorial term was
nearing its close, and his political life depended upon his
re-election. With a united and aggressive enemy, ably led, in his
front; his own party hopelessly divided--one faction seeking his
defeat--it can readily be seen that his political pathway was by no
means one of peace. Such, in brief outline, were the political
conditions when, upon the adjournment of Congress, Douglas returned
to Illinois in July, 1858, and made public announcement of his
candidacy for re-election.
In his speech at Springfield, June 17, accepting the nomination of
his party for the Senate, Mr. Lincoln had uttered the words which have
since become historic. They are quoted at length, as they soon
furnished the text for his severe arraignment by Douglas in debate.
The words are:
"We are now far into this fifth year since a policy was initiated
with the avowed object and confident promise of putting an end
to slavery agitation. Under the operation of that policy, that
agitation has not only not ceased, but has constantly augmented.
In my opinion, it will not cease until a crisis shall have been
reached and passed. 'A house divided against itself cannot stand.'
I believe this country cannot endure permanently half slave and
half free. I do not expect the Union to be dissolved--I do not
expect the house to fall--but I do expect it will cease to be
divided. It will become all one thing or all the other. Either
the opponents of slavery will arrest the further spread of it
and place it where the public mind shall rest in the belief that
it is in the course of ultimate extinction, or its advocates
will push it forward until it shall become alike lawful in all the
States, old as well as new, North as well as South."
This, at the time, was a bold utterance, and, it was believed by
many, would imperil Mr. Lincoln's chances for election. Mr. Blaine
in his "Twenty Years of Congress," says:
"Mr. Lincoln had been warned by intimate friends to whom he had
communicated the contents of his speech in advance of its delivery,
that he was treading on dangerous ground, that he would be
misinterpreted as a disunionist, and that he might fatally damage the
Republican party by making its existence synonymous with a destruction
of the Government."
The opening speech of Senator Douglas at Chicago a few days later--
sounding the keynote of his campaign--was in the main an arraignment
of his opponent for an attempt to precipitate an internecine
conflict, and array in deadly hostility the North against the South.
He said:
"In other words, Mr. Lincoln advocates boldly and clearly a war of
sections, a war of the North against the South, of the free
States against the slave States--a war of extermination--to be
continued relentlessly until the one or the other shall be subdued,
and all the States shall either become free or become slave."
The two speeches, followed by others of like tenor, aroused public
interest in the State as it had never been before. The desire
to hear the candidates from the same platform became general. The
proposal for a joint debate came from Mr. Lincoln on July 24 and
was soon thereafter accepted. Seven joint meetings were agreed
upon, the first to be at Ottawa, August 21, and the last at Alton,
October 15. The meetings were held in the open, and at each place
immense crowds were in attendance. The friends of Mr. Lincoln
largely preponderated in the northern portion of the State, those of
Douglas in the southern, while in the centre the partisans of
the respective candidates were apparently equal in numbers. The
interest never flagged for a moment from the beginning to the close.
The debate was upon a high plane; each candidate enthusiastically
applauded by his friends, and respectfully heard by his opponents.
The speakers were men of dignified presence, their bearing such as
to challenge respect in any assemblage. There was nothing of
the "grotesque" about the one, nothing of the "political juggler" about
the other. Both were deeply impressed with the gravity of the
questions at issue, and of what might prove their far-reaching
consequence to the country.
Kindly reference by each speaker to the other characterized the
debates from the beginning. "My friend Lincoln," and "My friend
the Judge," were expressions of constant occurrence during the
debate. While each mercilessly attacked the political utterances of
the other, good feeling in the main prevailed. Something being
pardoned to the spirit of debate, the amenities were well observed.
They had been personally well known to each other for many years; had
served together in the Legislature when the State Capitol was at
Vandalia, and at a later date, Lincoln had appeared before the
Supreme Court when Douglas was one of the judges. The amusing
allusions to each other were taken in good part. Mr. Lincoln's
profound humor is now a proverb. It never appeared to better
advantage than during these debates. In criticising Mr. Lincoln's
attack upon Chief Justice Taney and his associates for the Dred
Scott decision, Douglas declared it to be an attempt to secure a
reversal of the high tribunal by an appeal to a town meeting.
It reminded him of the saying of Colonel Strode that the judicial system
of Illinois was perfect, except that "there should be an appeal
allowed from the Supreme Court to two justices of the peace."
Lincoln replied, "That was when you were on the bench, Judge."
Referring to Douglas's allusion to him as a kind, amiable, and
intelligent gentleman, he said:
"Then as the Judge has complimented me with these pleasant titles,
I was a little taken, for it came from a great man. I was not very
much accustomed to flattery and it came the sweeter to me. I
was like the Hoosier with the gingerbread, when he said he reckoned
he loved it better and got less of it than any other man."
In opening the debate at Ottawa, Douglas said:
"In the remarks I have made on the platform and the position of
Mr. Lincoln, I mean nothing personally disrespectful or unkind
to that gentleman. I have known him for twenty-five years. There
were many points of sympathy between us when we first got acquainted.
We were both comparatively boys, and both struggling with poverty in
a strange land. I was a school-teacher in the town of Winchester,
and he a flourishing grocery-keeper in the town of Salem. He
was more successful in his occupation than I was in mine, and hence
more fortunate in this world's goods. Lincoln is one of those
peculiar men who perform with admirable skill everything which they
undertake. I made as good a school-teacher as I could, and when a
cabinet-maker I made a good bedstead and table, although my old boss
said I succeeded better with bureaus and secretaries than anything
else. I met him in the Legislature and had a sympathy with him
because of the up-hill struggle we both had in life. He was
then just as good at telling an anecdote as now. He could beat
any of the boys wrestling or running a foot-race, in pitching quoits
or tossing a copper, and the dignity and impartiality with which
he presided at a horse-race or a fist-fight, excited the admiration
and won the praise of everybody. I sympathized with him because
he was struggling with difficulties, and so was I."
To which Lincoln replied:
"The Judge is woefully at fault about his friend Lincoln being a
grocery-keeper. I don't know as it would be a sin if I had been;
but he is mistaken. Lincoln never kept a grocery anywhere in
the world. It is true that Lincoln did work the latter part of
one Winter in a little still house up at the head of a hollow."
The serious phases of the debates will now be considered. The
opening speech was by Mr. Douglas. That he possessed rare power
as a debater, all who heard him can bear witness. Mr. Blaine in
his history says:
"His mind was fertile in resources. He was master of logic. In
that peculiar style of debate which in its intensity resembles a
physical combat, he had no equal. He spoke with extraordinary
readiness. He used good English, terse, pointed, vigorous. He
disregarded the adornments of rhetoric. He never cited historic
precedents except from the domain of American politics. Inside
that field, his knowledge was comprehensive, minute, critical. He
could lead a crowd almost irresistibly to his own conclusions."
Douglas was, in very truth, imbued with little of mere sentiment.
He gave little time to discussions belonging solely to the realm
of the speculative or the abstract. He was in no sense a dreamer.
What Coleridge has defined wisdom--"common sense, in an uncommon
degree"--was his. In phrase the simplest and most telling, he
struck at once at the very core of the controversy. Possibly no
man was ever less inclined "to darken counsel with words without
knowledge." Positive, and aggressive to the last degree, he never
sought "by indirections to find directions out." In statesmanship--
in all that pertained to human affairs--he was intensely practical.
With him, in the words of Macaulay, "one acre in Middlesex is worth
a principality in Utopia."
It is a pleasure to recall--after the lapse of half a century--the
two men as they shook hands upon the speaker's stand, just before the
opening of the debates that were to mark an epoch in American
history. Stephen A. Douglas! Abraham Lincoln! As they stood side
by side and looked out upon "the sea of upturned faces"--it was
indeed a picture to live in the memory of all who witnessed it.
The one stood for the old ordering of things, in an emphatic sense
for the Government as established by the fathers--with all its
compromises. The other, recognizing equally with his opponent the
binding force of Constitutional obligation, yet looking, away from
present surroundings, "felt the inspiration of the coming of the
grander day." As has been well said, "The one faced the past; the
other, the future."
The name of Lincoln is now a household word. But little can be
written of him that is not already known to the world. Nothing
that can be uttered or withheld can add to, or detract from, his
imperishable fame. But it must be remembered that his great
opportunity and fame came after the stirring events separated from
us by the passing of fifty years. It is not the Lincoln of history,
but Lincoln the country lawyer, the debater, the candidate of
his party for political office, with whom we have now to do. Born
in Kentucky, much of his early life was spent in Indiana, and
all his professional and public life up to his election to the
Presidency, in Illinois. His early opportunities for study,
like those of Douglas, were meagre indeed. Neither had had the
advantage of the thorough training of the schools. Of both it
might truly have been said, "They knew men rather than books." From
his log-cabin home upon the Sangamon, Mr. Lincoln had in his early
manhood volunteered, and was made captain of his company, in what was
so well known to the early settlers of Illinois as the Black
Hawk War. Later on, he was surveyor of his county, and three times
a member of the State Legislature. At the time of the debates with
Senator Douglas, Mr. Lincoln had for many years been a resident of
Springfield, and a recognized leader of the bar. As an advocate,
he had probably no superior in the State. During the days of
the Whig party he was an earnest exponent of its principles, and
an able champion of its candidates. As such, he had in successive
contests eloquently presented the claims of Harrison, Clay, Taylor,
and Scott to the Presidency. In 1846, he was elected a Representative
in Congress, and upon his retirement he resumed the active practice
of his profession. Upon the dissolution of the Whig party, he cast
in his fortunes with the new political organization, and was in
very truth one of the builders of the Republican party. At its
first national convention, in 1856, he received a large vote for
nomination to the Vice-Presidency, and during the memorable campaign
of that year canvassed the State in advocacy of the election of
Fremont and Dayton, the candidates of the Philadelphia convention.
In the year 1858--that of the great debates--Douglas was the better
known of the opposing candidates in the country at large. In a
speech then recently delivered in Springfield, Mr. Lincoln said:
"There is still another disadvantage under which we labor and to
which I will ask your attention. It arises out of the relative
positions of the two persons who stand before the State as candidates
for the Senate. Senator Douglas is of world-wide renown. All the
anxious politicians of his party have been looking upon him as
certainly at no distant day to be the President of the United
States. They have seen in his ruddy, jolly, fruitful face,
postoffices, land-offices, marshalships, and cabinet appointments,
and foreign missions, bursting and sprouting out in wonderful
exuberance, ready to be laid hold of by their greedy hands. On
the contrary, nobody has ever seen in my poor lank face that any
cabbages were sprouting out."
Both, however, were personally well known in Illinois. Each was
by unanimous nomination the candidate of his party. Douglas had
known sixteen years of continuous service in one or the other House
of Congress. In the Senate, he had held high debate with
Seward, Sumner, and Chase from the North, and during the last
session--since he had assumed a position of antagonism to the
Buchanan administration--had repeatedly measured swords with Tombs,
Benjamin, and Jefferson Davis, chief among the great debaters of
the South.
Mr. Lincoln's services in Congress had been limited to a single
term in the lower house, and his great fame was yet to be achieved,
not as a legislator, but as Chief Executive during the most critical
years of our history.
Such, in brief, were the opposing candidates as they entered the
lists of debate at Ottawa, on the twenty-first day of August, 1858.
Both were in the prime of manhood, thoroughly equipped for the
conflict, and surrounded by throngs of devoted friends. Both were
gifted with remarkable forensic powers and alike hopeful as to the
result. Each recognizing fully the strength of his opponent,
his own powers were constantly at their tension.
"the blood more stirs
To rouse a lion than to start a hare."
In opening, Senator Douglas made brief reference to the political
condition of the country prior to the year 1854. He said:
"The Whig and the Democratic were the two great parties then in
existence; both national and patriotic, advocating principles that
were universal in their application; while these parties differed in
regard to banks, tariff, and sub-treasury, they agreed on the
slavery question which now agitates the Union. They had adopted
the compromise measures of 1850 as the basis of a full solution of
the slavery question in all its forms; that these measures had
received the endorsement of both parties in their National Conventions
of 1852, thus affirming the right of the people of each State
and Territory to decide as to their domestic institutions for
themselves; that this principle was embodied in the bill reported by
me in 1854 for the organization of the Territories of Kansas and
Nebraska; in order that there might be no misunderstanding,
these words were inserted in that bill: 'It is the true intent
and meaning of this act, not to legislate slavery into any State
or Territory, or to exclude it therefrom, but to leave the
people thereof perfectly free to form and regulate their domestic
institutions in their own way, subject only to the Federal
Constitution.'"