CHAPTER I

A HISTORY OF

THE AMERICAN PEOPLE

BY

WOODROW WILSON, PH.D., LITT.D., LL.D.

IN FIVE VOLUMES

VOL. IV.

Critical Changes and Civil War

[Illustration: ANDREW JACKSON]

A HISTORY OF

THE AMERICAN PEOPLE

BY

WOODROW WILSON, PH.D., LITT.D., LL.D.

PRESIDENT OF PRINCETON UNIVERSITY

ILLUSTRATED WITH PORTRAITS, MAPS,

PLANS, FACSIMILES, RARE PRINTS,

CONTEMPORARY VIEWS, ETC.

IN FIVE VOLUMES

VOL. IV.

[Illustration]

NEW YORK AND LONDON

HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS

MCMVII

Copyright, 1901, 1902, by WOODROW WILSON.

Copyright, 1901, 1902, by HARPER & BROTHERS.

_All rights reserved._

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. THE DEMOCRATIC REVOLUTION 1

II. THE BANK AND THE TREASURY 41

III. THE EXTENSION OF SLAVERY 88

IV. ARMED DIVISION 145

V. THE CONFEDERATE STATES 265

APPENDIX 313

NOTES ON ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

ANDREW JACKSON _Frontispiece_

HENRY CLAY AT THE AGE OF FORTY-THREE.—From a portrait by Mathew

H. Jouett 2

ROBERT FULTON.—From a portrait by Benjamin West, painted in 1805 4

FULTON’S FIRST STEAMBOAT.—Redrawn from an old print 6

GENERAL ANDREW JACKSON.—From a portrait in the city hall, New

York, painted by John Vanderlyn in 1819, when Jackson was

fifty-two years of age 8

CARPENTERS’ HALL, PHILADELPHIA.—From a photograph 11

MARTIN VAN BUREN.—From a portrait by Henry Inman, in the

possession of W. Duer, Esq. 13

JAMES KENT.—Redrawn from an old print 15

JEREMIAH MASON.—Redrawn from an old print 17

MODEL OF THE JOHN STEVENS LOCOMOTIVE. THE FIRST IN AMERICA.

1825.—Redrawn from an old print 20

MODEL OF THE STOCKTON AND DARLINGTON LOCOMOTIVE. BROUGHT

FROM ENGLAND. 1826.—Redrawn from an old print 22

DANIEL WEBSTER.—From a daguerrotype in the possession of

Charles Lanman, Esq. 24

ROBERT YOUNG HAYNE.—From an engraving after a drawing by

J. B. Longacre 26

TITLE-PAGE OF SPEECH OF DANIEL WEBSTER.—From the original in

the New York Public Library (Lenox Building) 29

THE DE WITT CLINTON TRAIN WHICH RAN IN 1830 BETWEEN ALBANY

AND SCHENECTADY.—Photographed from the original locomotive

and carriages by A. P. Yates, official photographer of the

New York Central Railroad 31

DANIEL WEBSTER.—From the painting by G. P. A. Healy, now in

Faneuil Hall, Boston, Mass. _Facing p._ 32

BELL’S STEAMBOAT COMET, 1812.—Redrawn from an old print 33

FREIGHT AND PASSENGER CARS, 1848.—From an old print 36

THE FIRST CAPITOL OF TEXAS.—Redrawn from an old print 38

THE OLD UNITED STATES BANK, NOW THE CUSTOM HOUSE,

PHILADELPHIA.—From a photograph 42

ALEXANDER H. STEPHENS.—From a photograph by Brady 45

NICHOLAS BIDDLE.—Engraved by J. B. Longacre and T. B. Walsh

after a painting by Rembrandt Peale 50

ROGER B. TANEY.—From Coffin’s _Life of Lincoln_ 55

LOUIS MCLANE.—Redrawn from an old print 57

ELECTORAL TICKET OF 1836.—From a photograph from the original

ticket 60

A NORTH CAROLINA MANSION OF THE OLD STYLE.—From _Harper’s

Encyclopaedia of United States History_ 63

JOHN C. CALHOUN.—From the painting by De Bloch, in the

possession of John C. Calhoun, Esq. _Facing p._ 64

SILAS WRIGHT, JR.—From an engraving after a daguerrotype

by Brady 67

SAM HOUSTON.—Redrawn from an old print 69

CYRUS HALL MCCORMICK.—Reproduced from an engraving kindly

loaned by the McCormick Company of Chicago 71

JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER.—From an engraving by Wilcox after a

daguerrotype 73

EDGAR ALLAN POE.—From _Harper’s Monthly Magazine_ 75

WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT.—From an old stipple engraving 77

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.—From a photograph by Black 79

JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.—Redrawn from an engraving after a

daguerrotype 81

NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.—From Howells’s _Literary Friends and

Acquaintance_ 83

HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.—From an old print 84

PRESIDENTIAL TICKET, 1840.—From a photograph of the original

ticket 85

WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON.—From Lossing’s _Field-Book of the War

of 1812_ 86

JOSEPH STORY.—From an engraving after a portrait by Chester

Harding 89

CAMPAIGN SYMBOL OF 1840.—Redrawn from a copy of the campaign

cartoon 93

JOHN TYLER.—Redrawn from an engraving from a daguerrotype 95

THE HANCOCK HOUSE, BOSTON.—Redrawn from a sketch made in 1833.

Showing rail-fence around the Boston Common, which was used

originally as a cow pasture 97

TITLE-PAGE OF ANTI-ABOLITION PAMPHLET.—From Sparks’s _The Men

Who Made the Nation_ 99

BROADWAY, EAST SIDE, BETWEEN GRAND AND HOWARD STREETS,

NEW YORK, 1840.—From an old lithograph 103

GENERAL SANTA ANNA.—Redrawn from an old print 106

WENDELL PHILLIPS.—From a photograph 109

TITLE-PAGE OF A CAMPAIGN PAMPHLET.—From the original in

the New York Public Library (Astor Building) 111

HENRY CLAY.—From a drawing by Davignon _Facing p._ 112

TITLE-PAGE OF “THE CLAY SONGSTER.”—From a photograph from

the original 113

JAMES K. POLK.—Redrawn from an old print 116

ZACHARY TAYLOR.—From an old lithograph 119

WINFIELD SCOTT.—From an engraving after a daguerrotype 121

THE DEPARTURE OF THE PHILADELPHIA VOLUNTEERS FROM

PHILADELPHIA.—From a humorous drawing by F. O. C. Darley 123

CHARGE OF THE “PALMETTOS” AT CHURUBUSCO.—From a drawing by

Döpler, in _Harper’s Monthly Magazine_ 125

MAIN STREET IN AUSTIN, TEXAS, ABOUT 1845.—Redrawn from an

old print 126

SALMON PORTLAND CHASE.—From _Harper’s Monthly Magazine_ 127

LEWIS CASS.—From _Harper’s Monthly Magazine_ 129

THOMAS WILSON DORR.—Redrawn from an old print 130

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA, IN 1848.—Redrawn from an old print 131

ENGLISH POWER LOOM FOR WEAVING COTTON, 1847.—Redrawn from an

old print 133

CASTLE GARDEN, NEW YORK, IN 1850.—From _Harper’s Monthly Magazine_ 135

EMIGRANT TRAIN CROSSING THE PLAINS.—Redrawn from an old print 136

A TYPICAL HOTEL IN THE MIDDLE MINES, CALIFORNIA, ABOUT

1850.—From a sketch from nature by A. V. S. Anthony 137

SLUICE WASHING FOR GOLD IN THE MIDDLE MINES, CALIFORNIA,

ABOUT 1850.—From a sketch from nature by A. V. S. Anthony 139

OLD SPANISH FORT AT MONTEREY, CALIFORNIA, IN 1848.—From

_Harper’s Monthly Magazine_ 141

TITLE-PAGE OF A CONTEMPORARY PAMPHLET.—From Sparks’s _The

Men Who Made the Nation_ 149

MARTIN VAN BUREN.—From a portrait by Daniel Huntington,

painted for Mr. Van Buren and presented by him to a

collection of notable statesmen now in the State Library

at Albany, New York 155

FRANKLIN PIERCE.—Redrawn from an old print 158

TITLE-PAGE OF “UNCLE TOM’S CABIN.”—From a copy of the first

edition of the work 161

COVER OF PAMPHLET ON THE BOSTON SLAVE RIOT.—From the original

in the New York Public Library (Lenox Building) 163

WILLIAM H. SEWARD.—From a photograph by Brady 168

GEORGE GORDON MEADE.—From a photograph by Brady 171

PIERRE SOULÉ.—Redrawn from an old print 173

JOHN CHARLES FRÉMONT.—From an engraving after a photograph

by Brady 175

STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS.—From a photograph by Brady _Facing p._ 176

GEORGE HENRY THOMAS.—From a photograph by Brady 177

JOSEPH ECCLESTON JOHNSTON.—From a photograph by Anderson 179

HARPER’S FERRY IN 1859.—From a sketch made in 1859 by a

staff artist of _Harper’s Weekly_ 181

JOHN BROWN.—Redrawn from an old print 183

THE DUNKER CHURCH, WHERE JOHN BROWN PREACHED THE NIGHT OF

THE RAID.—From a sketch furnished by Jeannie Chambers 184

COLONEL LEE’S MARINES BREAKING INTO THE ENGINE-HOUSE AT

HARPER’S FERRY.—Drawn from a sketch by a staff artist

of _Harper’s Weekly_ 187

FACSIMILE OF LINCOLN’S LETTER OF ACCEPTANCE.—From Nicolay

and Hay’s _Life of Lincoln_ 189

MR. SEWARD’S SUGGESTION FOR THE CLOSE OF MR. LINCOLN’S

INAUGURAL ADDRESS.—From Nicolay and Hay’s _Life of Lincoln_ 191

CLOSING PARAGRAPH, IN MR. LINCOLN’S HANDWRITING, OF THE

INAUGURAL ADDRESS.—From Nicolay and Hay’s _Life of Lincoln_ 191

JAMES BUCHANAN.—From a photograph 193

ALBERT SIDNEY JOHNSTON.—Redrawn from an old print 195

THE “GEORGE WASHINGTON” LOCOMOTIVE, 1835.—Redrawn from an

old print 199

VICKSBURG, MISSISSIPPI, 1863.—From a sketch made during

the Rebellion 201

A SNAG BOAT ON THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER.—Redrawn from an old

photograph 203

LINCOLN MAKING HIS FIRST INAUGURAL ADDRESS.—From a sketch made

by a staff artist of _Harper’s Weekly_ 205

FORT SUMTER ON NOVEMBER 10, 1863.—From a sketch made at the time 206

INTERIOR OF FORT SUMTER AFTER THE BOMBARDMENT, DECEMBER,

1863.—From a war-time sketch 209

FORT SUMTER, AS REBUILT.—From a photograph 211

SERGEANT HART NAILING THE COLORS TO THE FLAG-STAFF, FORT

SUMTER.—From _Harper’s Encyclopaedia of United States History_ 213

DAVID DIXON PORTER.—From a photograph by C. M. Bell 215

SIGNATURES OF THE COMMISSIONERS OF VIRGINIA AND THE SOUTHERN

CONFEDERACY.—From _Harper’s Encyclopaedia of United

States History_ 217

THE OSAGE, TYPE OF IRON-CLAD USED ON THE MISSISSIPPI

RIVER.—From a war-time photograph 219

THE CHICKASAW, TYPE OF IRON-CLAD USED ON THE MISSISSIPPI

RIVER.—From a war-time photograph 220

THE DE KALB, TYPE OF IRON-CLAD USED ON THE MISSISSIPPI

RIVER.—From a war-time photograph 221

PIERRE GUSTAVE TOUTANT BEAUREGARD.—From a photograph by Sarony 223

A CALL FOR REINFORCEMENTS.—From _Battles and Leaders_ 225

GEORGE BRINTON MCCLELLAN.—From a photograph by Conly 227

MILLARD FILLMORE.—From a photograph by W. Baker 230

FACSIMILE OF WAR SCRIP ISSUED BY THE CONFEDERATE LEGISLATURE

OF MISSOURI.—From _Battles and Leaders_ 233

STATUE OF FARRAGUT IN MADISON SQUARE, NEW YORK CITY.—From

a photograph 235

JOHN ERICSSON.—From an old steel engraving 238

THE MONITOR.—From a war-time sketch 239

BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG. VOLUNTEERS CROSSING THE RIVER.—From

a painting by C. S. Reinhart 241

FACSIMILE OF THE FINAL EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION OF

JAN. 1, 1863.—Nicolay and Hay 244, 245, 246, 247

THE HARTFORD, FARRAGUT’S FLAG-SHIP.—From a war-time sketch 250

UNITED STATES SLOOP OF WAR KEARSARGE.—From a war-time sketch 253

WILLIAM TECUMSEH SHERMAN.—From a photograph by Charles L. Ritzmann 255

TABLE USED AT THE SURRENDER AT APPOMATTOX COURT HOUSE.—From

_Harper’s Encyclopaedia of United States History_ 257

CHAIR USED AT THE SURRENDER AT APPOMATTOX COURT HOUSE.—From

_Harper’s Encyclopaedia of United States History_ 258

JOHN WILKES BOOTH.—Redrawn from an old print 260

THE WHITE HOUSE OF THE CONFEDERACY, RICHMOND.—From a photograph 266

JEFFERSON DAVIS.—From a photograph by W. W. Washburn 269

MONTGOMERY, ALABAMA, IN 1862.—Redrawn from a photograph 272

ABRAHAM LINCOLN.—From a photograph taken by McNulty in

Indianapolis, in 1861 _Facing p._ 272

THOMAS JONATHAN JACKSON.—Redrawn from an old print 275

ROBERT EDWARD LEE.—From the steel engraving published by the

Lee Memorial Association for the Erection of a Monument at

the Tomb of General Robert E. Lee at the Washington and

Lee University, Lexington, Va. _Facing p._ 276

THE SHELL ROAD, MOBILE.—From a drawing by W. H. Gibson 277

ARLINGTON, THE RESIDENCE OF GENERAL ROBERT E. LEE.—From a

sketch by Benson J. Lossing in 1850 279

WILLIAM LOWNDES YANCEY.—Redrawn from an old print 280

THOMAS R. R. COBB.—From a photograph in possession of President

Woodrow Wilson, Princeton, N. J. 283

FIRST PAGE OF THE ORIGINAL DRAFT OF THE CONSTITUTION OF THE

CONFEDERATE STATES.—In the handwriting of General Thomas

R. R. Cobb 285

ANDREW JOHNSON.—From an old photograph 287

CHATTANOOGA, TENNESSEE, IN 1862.—From a war-time sketch 291

A STREET HUCKSTER IN RICHMOND, VIRGINIA.—A sketch from

nature by W. L. Sheppard 293

SELLERS OF FIREWOOD IN RICHMOND, VIRGINIA.—A sketch from

nature by W. L. Sheppard 295

A SUPERANNUATED DARKY IN RICHMOND, VIRGINIA.—A sketch from

nature by W. L. Sheppard 297

A CALL FOR VOLUNTEERS IN ILLINOIS.—From a photograph from

the original poster 299

A SELLER OF RABBITS AND HARES, RICHMOND, VIRGINIA.—From a

sketch from nature by W. L. Sheppard 301

A WOOD PEDDLER, RICHMOND, VIRGINIA.—From a sketch from nature

by W. L. Sheppard 303

FACSIMILE OF MR. LINCOLN’S AUTOGRAPHIC COPY OF THE GETTYSBURG

ADDRESS, MADE BY HIM FOR THE SOLDIERS’ AND SAILORS’ FAIR

AT BALTIMORE, IN 1864.—From Nicolay and Hay’s _Life of

Lincoln_ 308, 309

LIST OF MAPS

TERRITORIAL ACQUISITIONS OF THE UNITED STATES, 1783-1853 _Facing p._ 28

TERRITORIAL CONTROVERSIES OF THE UNITED STATES, SETTLED

BETWEEN 1783-1850 _Facing p._ 80

THE UNITED STATES, MARCH 4, 1855 _Facing p._ 170

SLAVERY IN THE UNITED STATES, 1775-1865 _Facing p._ 208

A HISTORY OF THE AMERICAN PEOPLE

CHAPTER I

THE DEMOCRATIC REVOLUTION

General Jackson’s friends had reason to be satisfied. The effect they

had wrought was indeed dramatic, revolutionary. They had cut a line of

cleavage between epoch and epoch in the history of the country. They

had broken, once for all, the “Virginian dynasty,” “the succession of

Secretaries,” the leadership of trained and trusted men; had set aside

every tradition of national politics; and had begun the administration

of the executive office of the Union afresh upon their own plan. They

had not, indeed, won secure control of either house of Congress. Parties

were not fixed enough as yet for that. There were not a few “Democrats”

who still retained a covert liking for the liberal construction their

opponents put upon the constitution, and who upon occasion wavered in

their votes, or incontinently went over to the ranks of the “National

Republicans,” whom Mr. Clay led. In the Senate there could be found,

upon most questions, a majority against the new President. But the

whole atmosphere of affairs, the whole tone of the government changed,

nevertheless, with the coming in of General Jackson. The new nation,

its quality subtly altered, its point of view insensibly shifted by

the movement into the West, had smiled with some degree of patient

complacency upon Mr. Monroe, and had endured John Quincy Adams, but now

for the first time chose after its own kind and preferred General Jackson.

[Illustration: HENRY CLAY]

It was a second democratization of the government. And yet it differed

radically from the first, which Mr. Jefferson had so shrewdly contrived.

There was no kinship either in spirit or in method between Mr. Jefferson

and this new hero of democracy. Mr. Jefferson had, indeed, expressed the

greatest alarm “at the prospect of seeing General Jackson President.” “He

is,” he said, “one of the most unfit men I know of for the place. He has

had very little respect for laws or constitutions, and is, in fact, an

able military chief. His passions are terrible. He has been much tried

since I knew him, but he is a dangerous man.” And had Mr. Jefferson lived

to witness the result, he would hardly have altered his judgment. He had

stood, for all he was so full of democratic doctrine, for conservative

ways of political growth. General Jackson stood, it turned out, for

personal government, party proscriptions, and the self-willed choices of

personal power.

General Jackson professed to be of the school of Mr. Jefferson himself;

and what he professed he believed. There was no touch of the charlatan

or the demagogue about him. The action of his mind was as direct, as

sincere, as unsophisticated as the action of the mind of an ingenuous

child, though it exhibited also the sustained intensity and the range of

the mature man. The difference between Mr. Jefferson and General Jackson

was not a difference of moral quality so much as a difference in social

stock and breeding. Mr. Jefferson, an aristocrat and yet a philosophical

radical, deliberately practised the arts of the politician and exhibited

oftentimes the sort of insincerity which subtle natures yield to without

loss of essential integrity. General Jackson was incapable of arts or

deceptions of any kind. He was in fact what his partisans loved to

call him, a man of the people, of the common people. Mr. Jefferson was

only a patron of the people: appealed to the rank and file, believed

in them, but shared neither their tastes nor their passions. Moreover,

the effective rank and file of the nation had changed since his day

of ascendency. Step by step, one State following another, the old

restrictions upon the suffrage, taken for granted in Jefferson’s time,

had been removed, until in almost every part of the Union the men of

the masses had become the stuff of politics. These men Jackson really

represented, albeit with a touch of the knight and chivalrous man of

honor about him which common men do not have; and the people knew it;

felt that an aristocratic order was upset, and that they themselves had

at last come to their own.

[Illustration: ROBERT FULTON]

It must have seemed so in very fact at their President’s inauguration.

Washington filled with crowds come out of every quarter of the Union.

All ceremony was overridden, all decorum cast aside. It seemed as if the

place were in the possession of a good-natured mob, bent upon no serious

mischief, but not to be restrained, not to be forbidden even the drawing

rooms of the White House or the committee rooms and chambers of the

Capitol. There was scarcely room enough in the streets for the passage

of the procession which accompanied General Jackson to the place of

inauguration. So great a crowd rushed, unbidden, into the White House,

when General Jackson came to it from the Capitol, that he was himself

forced against the wall of the reception chamber by its pressure, and

was secured against serious danger only by a number of gentlemen linking

arms and forming themselves into a barrier. Everywhere it was proclaimed

that the people had come into possession of the government; that the

domination of professional statesmen and politicians had been thrown off:

that the rank and file were the victors, and that to the victors belonged

“the spoils of the enemy.”

That was unquestionably General Jackson’s creed. Men who understood him

could play upon him. He had allowed ill-informed men who believed it,

and designing men who pretended to believe it, to persuade him that

the government had not only been monopolized but also corrupted by

the politicians and statesmen who had hitherto controlled it; and he

meant to purify it very radically. Among his advisers were men, like

Mr. Martin Van Buren, of New York, who were past-masters in the art

of party organization, and whose methods he willingly adopted for the

establishment of the national power of his followers. They were methods

which he could readily understand, and which seemed almost to fall within

his own experience. He was a frontier soldier. Staunch comradeships,

personal devotion, the close, unhesitating cohesion of friends, the

intimate co-operation of men who knew and trusted one another by reason

of joint efforts in a common affair, seemed to him the natural and proper

basis for the discipline of a party no less than for the discipline and

success of a frontier levy of volunteers. He knew and cared nothing for

the orderly promotions of a regular service.

[Illustration: FULTON’S FIRST STEAMBOAT]

The suffrage had been thrown open in New York, as elsewhere, and Mr.

Van Buren had become one of a small group of astute men there who had

supplied the new voters, crowding without concert to the polls, with

the organization they could not contrive for themselves. These “Albany

regents,” as their opponents dubbed them, had effected their propaganda

and their nominations, through local caucuses, and through conventions

composed of delegates whom the caucuses selected. The lieutenants whom

they used to assist them in organizing the caucuses, superintending the

selection and the business of the conventions, and looking after every

local detail of party action, they rewarded when they could with offices

and nominations for themselves. It was this association of men who stood

by one another and served one another as personal allies and friends that

won the admiration of General Jackson. “I am no politician,” he said;

“but if I were one, I would be a New York politician.” Pennsylvanian

politics were of the same sort: the politics of intimate personal

association. There, too, democracy on the great scale had submitted

to the same organization, the same leadership of consummate, watchful

managers. It was the new organization of democracy. General Jackson both

understood and relished it. He saw nothing immoral in the promise that

when he came into office he would reward his friends and punish his

enemies. That, on the contrary, was a fundamental first principle of

morals on the frontier. He firmly believed his friends to be the friends

also of the government,—of the government as it had been and ought to

be; his enemies, enemies of the government as well. The earnestness

and sincerity with which he believed it, the frankness with which he

avowed the belief, were interesting proofs of his conscious integrity.

With all the intensity of his nature he wished for the welfare of the

country, the advancement of the Union, the success and permanency of its

government; with all the terrible force of his will he purposed to secure

both the one and the other. No doubt he had shown contempt for law, as

Mr. Jefferson said, when he was upon the frontier, hampered by treaties

and instructions; but his ideals were not those of the law-breaker. They

were those of the ardent patriot. The peril of the country lay in the

fact that he chose to disregard precedent and to interpret all laws for

himself,—the law of the constitution no less than the law of the statute

book.

[Illustration: GENERAL ANDREW JACKSON]

And so there was almost a clean sweep of the federal offices to make

room for General Jackson’s friends, and secure proper persons to

execute General Jackson’s purposes. That the men dismissed had been

long in office he deemed an additional argument for their discharge

rather than an argument for their retention. Long terms of service he

thought undemocratic. They slackened diligence, he believed, and made

office-holders too carelessly secure. No doubt they fostered corruption,

too. He did not himself conduct the proscription; he let those whom he

trusted conduct it in his name. By the time the first Congress of his

term assembled (December 7, 1829) it was estimated that fully a thousand

federal officials had been removed, as against seventy-three at the most

in all the previous history of the government. The Senate tried to stay

the tide where it could, in its action on the nominations sent to it;

but found the President imperious, irresistible, not to be gainsaid, and

public opinion out-of-doors astonishingly ready to support and applaud

him at every turn of the contest. “We give no reasons for our removals,”

said Mr. Van Buren; and apparently the mass of the voters wanted

none. They were content to know that General Jackson was changing the

government from top to bottom. Men without parts or reputation of course

got into office, in the general scramble. There could be little choice or

deliberation in that wholesale process. The men appointed were for the

most part men who had put themselves forward. There were very few men of

any experience at all in federal administration, and many adventurers, to

be found in the ranks of the new party. “Very few reputable appointments

have been made,” Mr. Adams, the ruthless General’s predecessor in

office, set down in his journal, “and those confined to persons who were

indispensably necessary to the office.” “The appointments are exclusively

of violent partisans, and every editor of a scurrilous and slanderous

newspaper is provided for.”

It was only fair to remember that the new party drew of necessity upon

its ranks, whether for ordinary officials or for leaders. If the minor

office holders were new men, so were their chiefs also, who stood close

about the President himself. The cabinet which General Jackson chose

seemed conventional enough, indeed, for a party so recently made up. Mr.

Van Buren had left the office of Governor of New York to become Secretary

of State. He had been merely a local politician, no doubt, though he

had served a term in the Senate, and had come but the other day into

national prominence; but he was at least as well known as many another

cabinet officer before him. The other heads of Departments, though even

less generally known to the nation than he was, had played a public part

in affairs, in Congress and out of it, and had been chosen for reasons

familiar enough in politics. Major John H. Eaton, of Tennessee, was

selected to be Secretary of War, because he was a trusted personal friend

of the President’s; the Secretaries of the Treasury and of the Navy and

the Attorney General owed their places to the fact that they were the

friends of Mr. Calhoun, the Vice President, who stood at the front of

the President’s party in the South. The Postmaster General had been a

candidate for the governorship of Kentucky in the Jackson interest, and

had been defeated by a nominee of the friends of Mr. Clay.

[Illustration: CARPENTERS’ HALL, PHILADELPHIA]

What was really singular and significant was, that these gentlemen did

not, under General Jackson, form a real cabinet at all. The country

presently learned that the President did not hold cabinet meetings: that

he took counsel, when he felt in need of it, with private friends, some

of whom had no recognized post or standing in the government at all.

Chief among these were one William B. Lewis, of Tennessee, a kinsman and

neighbor of General Jackson’s, and one Amos Kendall, a Massachusetts man

now identified with Kentucky. It was Major Lewis who, more than any other

man, had first forced him into candidacy for the presidency, who had set

the stage for him at every turn of his political career, who had set

afoot, superintended, fomented, and with an infinite art and diligence

brought successfully to a head the many influences, public and private,

which were to bring him finally into office and to the leadership of

his party. General Jackson consulted and used him without in the least

realizing that he had in him a consummate master of the arts whereby

opinion is made and individual men are set forward in their ambition. He

had made Major Lewis Second Auditor of the Treasury; but Lewis was not a

man who played for himself. He played for Jackson, and loved every subtle

turn of the game: used his gifts of management like one who played for

his own hand, and yet remained a man of honor and served his friend more

than he served himself. Amos Kendall was a master of the art political,

not in action, but upon paper. He had gifts as a writer which could be

turned to account in the composition of the most serious state papers. He

caught the impressive tone of public business and mastered its calm way

of reasoning as readily as he caught the tones of partisan controversy

and spent his force in its bitter energy. He could frame a significant

innuendo or prepare an editorial for the party press that bit as deep as

anything that Tom. Paine or William Cobbett could have written. He seemed

a statesman or a mere partisan by turns; it was difficult to tell which

he was either by nature or by choice. He was perhaps each in turn; but

nothing out of the closet.

[Illustration: MARTIN VAN BUREN]

There were others of the “Kitchen Cabinet” besides: the editors of

Jacksonian newspapers; but the heart of it lay in Major Lewis and Mr.

Kendall. Mr. Van Buren and Major Eaton, of Tennessee, the Secretary of

War, were freely admitted into this inner circle; but not as members of

the cabinet, only as personal friends and confidants of the President.

And so a veritable personal government was set up, so far as the

Executive and the discipline of the Executive’s friends in Congress were

concerned; and allegiance to General Jackson became the test of fidelity

for every Democrat who wished to be admitted to the party’s counsels.

The President’s mere audacity won many men to him, for the masses of

the country loved bold individual initiative. His rugged honesty, his

sincerity, his own power of devotion, his frank friendliness, his

confiding faith in his friends won more. Towards women he showed the

gracious, deferential courtesy of the man who would be every woman’s

knight and champion. Foreign ministers who had expected to find in him

the rough frontiersman were amazed at his natural dignity and ease, the

air almost of elegance and of majesty that hung about him because of his

quiet self-respect, his grave and unaffected courtesy, and the striking

sadness and reserve of his deep-set eyes. No President since Washington

had so taken hold upon the imagination, and every month he remained in

office his ascendency became the more assured.

[Illustration: JAMES KENT]

It made a startling difference to the country. It broke the course of

all settled policy, forced every question to square itself with the

President’s standards, altered the elements of parties. The country got

its first taste of the effect to be wrought upon policy in connection

with the troublesome question of the removal of the Indians from

Georgia and Alabama to lands beyond the Mississippi. Georgia had got

rid of the Creek Indians while Mr. Adams was President. Both Creeks

and Cherokees held their Georgia lands under treaties with the United

States such as the constitution explicitly authorized the President to

negotiate; the Creeks had relied upon the treaties and steadfastly

refused to sell their lands or suffer themselves to be driven out of the

State; and Mr. Adams had sought by every means in his power to protect

them. But Congress had supported him very lukewarmly, and Georgia had

succeeded at last in extorting from the unwilling chiefs of the tribe

terms which put their people forth into the West, where Congress was

ready to provide for them. The Cherokees were not to be so cajoled or

dealt with. They mustered thirteen thousand strong; had settled to

the occupations and learned the arts of peace; boasted a system of

self-government and of orderly obedience to their own laws which seemed

to promise, not extinction or decay or any decline of their power, but

a great development and an assured permanency; and would not entertain

any proposition whatever which involved the sale or relinquishment of

the rich lands they occupied. General Jackson, however, unlike his

predecessor, thought the State ought to be rid of them. Georgia and

Alabama, therefore, relying on his countenance, extended their laws over

the Indian country in despite of treaties; the President, when Georgia

requested him to do so, withdrew the federal troops stationed there; and

the Indians were obliged to yield. “I informed the Indians inhabiting

parts of Georgia and Alabama,” the President told Congress in his first

message, “that their attempt to establish an independent government would

not be countenanced by the Executive of the United States, and advised

them to migrate beyond the Mississippi or to submit to the laws of those

States.” Life on the frontier had left him no patience to consider the

rights of red men.

[Illustration: JEREMIAH MASON]

Their rights were duly tested in the courts. Three several times was the

matter taken, on appeal, to the Supreme Court of the United States, and

each time the court decided the question submitted to it in favor of the

Indians, upholding the treaties and denying the right of any State, or

any authority whatever, to violate or ignore them. But General Jackson

would not enforce its decisions. His attitude towards the Indians was

frankly that of the frontier soldier. They had no right, in his eyes,

to stand in the way of the white man. By the time the last of the

decisions of the Supreme Court was rendered in the matter (1832) another

presidential election was at hand and he was a candidate for re-election.

He said that he would leave the question to the people,—such was his

constitutional theory of right! The constitution did indeed give the

federal Executive the authority to negotiate treaties with the Indian

tribes, and Congress the right to regulate commerce with them, as if

they were to be treated in all respects like independent bodies politic,

in no way subject to the jurisdiction of the separate States. But the

constitution also explicitly commanded that no new State should be

“formed or erected within the jurisdiction of any other State” without

the express consent of the legislature of that State and of Congress;

and the Cherokees were obviously in a fair way to create a virtually

independent commonwealth within the State of Georgia should they remain.

It was a nice point of law, which General Jackson should have recognized

the right of the Supreme Court to decide. But with him his own judgment

was more conclusive, and a vote of the people the solution of all doubts.

It was significant how quick the new democracy he stood for was to take

fire against the courts and turn, by way of ultimate appeal, to the

people in all things. In Mr. Jefferson’s day also the courts had seemed

the strongholds of Federalism, and the leaders of Congress had wished to

see their judges removed at pleasure upon the address of the houses. Now

they seemed again the barriers, the only barriers, set up against the

people’s will. Many an observant eye had remarked how dramatic a thing

it was that General Jackson, like Mr. Jefferson, should take the oath of

office from John Marshall, the steadfast champion of Federalist doctrine

and of the reign of law under a constitution which was itself the supreme

law of the land. When Mr. Jefferson took office John Marshall had but

just come to his power, a man in his prime, the incoming President’s

junior by a dozen years. Now he was the new President’s senior by as

many years, though General Jackson, for all his erect and slender height,

was a gray veteran of sixty-two. The aged Chief Justice was as straight

at seventy-four as the soldier to whom he administered the oath of

office, and bore his years as well; but General Jackson stood, his years

notwithstanding, for a new age coming in, the aged judge for an old order

passing away. The fire that shone in the eyes of the old soldier burned

hot against the authority that sat upon the quiet brow of the aged lawyer.

In the very inaugural address which he uttered that day of his coming

into office the grizzled President threw out his challenge to the court,

and made bold to give it upon a matter of graver moment for the whole

country than the rights of Indian tribes even and the sacredness of

the treaties which gave them a standing in the court. He doubted, he

gave the country to understand, whether Congress had acted within its

constitutional powers in creating the Bank of the United States. That had

once, as everybody understood, been a debatable question; but the Supreme

Court had given judgment upon it in the celebrated case of _McCulloch

vs. Maryland_ (1819), in which it had explicitly affirmed the right, as

drawn by just inference from the undoubted powers of Congress; and since

then it had been deemed a question settled once for all. But General

Jackson regarded no question as settled which altered circumstances could

reopen. The twenty-year charter of the Bank was not to run out, indeed,

until 1836, a year which lay beyond his term; but a reconsideration of it

was to come. Apparently he had no intention of going now beyond a mere

preliminary expression of opinion in the matter. He simply put this

forth as a companion thought to his declaration of the conviction that

the surplus revenue of the federal government ought to be distributed

among the States, not spent for objects, like internal improvements,

which the constitution, in his opinion, gave Congress no authority to

undertake or pay for. He was merely setting forth at the outset of his

time of power, after his usual blunt, uncompromising fashion, what he

conceived to be the true democratic creed in matters of national finance.

Other more pressing matters called for first attention, and for action.

[Illustration: MODEL OF THE JOHN STEVENS LOCOMOTIVE. THE FIRST IN

AMERICA. 1825]

These initial declarations of opinion and intimations of policy on the

part of the President were eminently satisfactory to the men of the South

and West whose candidate he had been. Here were the views of strict

construction for which they had looked. In his very first message he

solemnly warned Congress “against all encroachments upon the legitimate

sphere of state sovereignty”; and conservative men, whose thought

had been formed by Mr. Jefferson, drew about him with almost as much

confidence as was shown by those who had the adventurous and aggressive

spirit of the new age at their hearts and desired change.

But when the President was put to the test by the Carolinians for whom

Mr. Calhoun had formulated the extreme doctrine of state rights, they

suddenly saw him in another light. They then saw, what they might have

seen at first, that he was of the West, not of the South. He stood, as

all other western men did, for the principle that every community must

have its own life in the free partnership it had formed, and its own

unhindered, unbidden development, unchecked by the national government:

for he believed that to be the end and object of the Union, to make the

States secure of their individual development and set them forward in

their own ways. But there was an infection of national feeling, too, upon

the stirring frontier where he had been bred which no man could escape; a

sense as of a people’s life a-making upon a continental scale; an ardor

for broad schemes and vast achievement, in bands united and backed by

the nation’s power. “The legitimate sphere of state sovereignty” did

not, when projected there upon the prairies, encroach upon the equally

legitimate sphere of the federal power. The two were inseparable parts of

a single conception. No frontiersman reasoned subtly upon them: instinct

and the spirit of conquest resolved all doubts and discountenanced all

refinements. Argument was excluded. In any case General Jackson, as

President, would have excluded it. To challenge the authority of the

federal government now was to challenge his own authority; and there

need have been no doubt what he would do in that event.

[Illustration: MODEL OF THE STOCKTON AND DARLINGTON LOCOMOTIVE. BROUGHT

FROM ENGLAND. 1826]

The issue that was to be joined and settled was first drawn to the light,

with painful vividness, by a debate in the Senate on the disposition

of the western lands. The New England men wanted the settlement of the

West held back as much as possible. So long as land was to be had there

almost for the mere asking, at no cost except that of the journey and of

a few farmer’s tools and a beast or two for the plough, the active men of

their own section, whom they counted on as skilled workmen in building

up their manufactures, must be constantly enticed away by the score and

hundred, to seek an independent life and livelihood in the West; high

wages, very high wages, must be paid to keep them, if indeed they could

be kept at all; and the maintenance of manufactures must cost more than

even protective tariffs could make good. Here was an issue between East

and West. The tariff itself was an issue between North and South, and

drew after it, when read into the question of the western lands, no less

a matter than the extension of slavery and the domination of sections in

the politics of the country. Heavy tariffs, which fostered manufactures

in the States where there were no slaves, insured growth of wealth and

population in the East and North, but left the South to stand still and

gain nothing. If her people could not go into the West and build up slave

states there to make good the altering balance of power in the Union,

they must look to see all things go steadily against them.

All these critical matters crept inevitably, as it seemed, into the

debate on the western lands; and the country was aroused by it almost as

it had been aroused ten years before by the debates on the admission of

Missouri. It turned upon a resolution to limit the sales of the western

lands which Mr. Foot, of Connecticut, introduced in the Senate late in

December, 1829. Ordinary men could not have raised it to such a climax

of interest; but the men engaged were not ordinary men. It was not Mr.

Benton’s hot protest that the men of New England should be always jealous

of the growth and prosperity of the West that caught the ear of the

country; it was the speeches of Mr. Hayne, of South Carolina, and Mr.

Webster, of Massachusetts. The debate, as they handled it, swung abroad

over the whole ground of the many closely related topics which lay upon

the borders of the immediate question it concerned. Mr. Hayne was of the

extreme school of South Carolina, and took occasion to expound at length

the doctrine of nullification which his colleagues in that school had so

lately perfected. It was out of the question, he said, that a State, when

wronged by an exercise of federal power, should leave the decision of

the matter of right entirely to the Supreme Court of the United States,

part and organ of the very government whose power was challenged. The

constitution was a compact, he maintained, the Union a free partnership;

States must stand ever upon the ground of the Kentucky and Virginia

Resolutions and effect their own protection against deliberate and

palpable excesses of power. Mr. Webster as fearlessly took the extreme

ground of the opposite view. It was this splendid audacity on either

side that quickened the pulses of all who listened, this hardy, intrepid

pushing of the issue to its last analysis,—and that issue nothing less

than the nation’s destiny.

[Illustration: DANIEL WEBSTER]

The debaters were already marked men. The Senator from South Carolina,

though not yet forty, had won his laurels as a lad in the war of 1812,

had been elected to the legislature of his State at twenty-three and made

Speaker of its House at twenty-five; made his way as much by personal

charm as by eloquence and a gift for business, had a grace and ardor in

his speech which won all men’s attention and liking, wore always the

air of a man of honor and high spirit, and used his singular powers of

persuasion with a fine force of conviction. Daniel Webster, his opponent,

had first come into Congress from New Hampshire, as the war with England

was drawing to a close (1813), and then, upon a change of residence, had

been sent first to the House (1823), finally to the Senate (1827), from

Massachusetts, and was now at forty-eight one of the most noticeable

figures of the country, an orator and constitutional lawyer whose mastery

every man acknowledged. Twice he had taken his stand, with a force of

argument it would have been difficult to enhance, against protective

tariffs; but, seeing his constituents deliberately and persistently

stake their whole economic fortune as a community upon them, he at last

had yielded, and was now the accepted champion of New England against

the violent onset of the South. He replied to Mr. Hayne that the

constitution was no compact, the Union no mere dissoluble partnership,

but a government, sovereign though not consolidated, a banded State

which nothing but revolution could dissolve, its laws to be set aside or

resisted only by acts of treason.

[Illustration: ROBERT YOUNG HAYNE]

No such charm hung about the person of Mr. Webster as that which made Mr.

Hayne so excellent an image of the courtly gentleman and the persuasive

orator. Alike in person and in utterance, Mr. Webster was compact, not

of grace, but of force. Mr. Hayne’s sentences rode high, upon rhetoric

that sought often an adventurous flight; Mr. Webster used words as if he

meant only to clarify and strengthen the thoughts he touched and cared

nothing for cadence or ornament. And yet he spread them in ranks so fair

that they caught and held the eye like a pageant. Beauty came upon them

as they moved as if out of the mere passion of the thought rather than by

the design of the orator. And he himself gave to the eye, as he stood, in

his own person the same image of clean-cut strength, beautiful only by

reason of its perfect action, so square was he, massive, and indomitable,

and with a head and face whose mass, whose calm breadth above the

deep-set, slumbrous eyes, seemed the fittest possible throne for the

powers he displayed. There was imagination wrought into all that he said,

but not the imagination of the rhetorician. Mr. Hayne’s speech seemed to

those who heard it worthy of the great reply it had called forth; but the

country did not read it as it read what Mr. Webster had said. That was

everywhere printed and read; and as the slow mails carried it forth it

was as if the national spirit had suddenly been cried wide awake by its

thrilling sentences. It was not the mere reasoner who won this triumph:

reason was here touched with fire. The imagination of every man who could

see the vision of a people united, indivisible, bound in sacred concord,

was taken captive by these sonorous periods; the conviction of every man

who saw the task and destiny of the nation as a whole was confirmed and

heartened and made glad. There was magic in the printed words, as there

was magic in the thrilling voice and the magnificent presence of the

man himself, in his massive stature and Olympian head, and in his eyes,

burning dark with steady fire within their deep covert.

There was no such magic in Mr. Hayne’s speech: only the force of argument

and of an able, clear-thinking man in earnest. Mr. Webster had taken new

ground. The men of the first generation of federal statesmen had not

spoken thus of the constitution, at whose conception and establishment

they had been present. They had admitted that it was an experiment,

though they had hastened at once to push it, if they could, beyond its

experimental stage. No man had attributed treason to the authors of

the Kentucky and Virginia Resolutions, whose language Mr. Calhoun and

Mr. Hayne now revived. Every man who felt the power and the hope that

were in the spirit of nationality as the men of the West did, as the

constructive statesmen did who had stood with Washington and Hamilton

in their generation, and with the young war enthusiasts who cried bravo

to Mr. Madison in the war with England in theirs, protested very hotly

when New England men talked of disunion, first because of the purchase

of Louisiana, and then because of the embargo. But they protested, not

as against rebellion; they protested as against mad folly, rather, and

narrow selfishness: as against those who would mar a great history to

push a sectional interest. Not until a whole generation had gone by from

the making of the government did this new doctrine of nationality which

Mr. Webster so eloquently and convincingly preached get its currency:

this doctrine of a national existence based, not upon sentiment and

agreement, but upon an imperative fundamental law.

[Illustration: TERRITORIAL ACQUISITIONS OF THE UNITED STATES, 1783-1853

BORMAY & CO., N. Y.]

[Illustration: TITLE-PAGE OF SPEECH OF DANIEL WEBSTER]

Here again, as in the broadening of the suffrage and the coming in of the

day of pure democracy which had brought General Jackson to the saddle

with its dawn, the subtle force of national expansion moved and brooded

upon the face of all things. The vast spread and movements of a people,

the growth and interlacings of industry, the springing up of States come

from the loins of the Union itself, all the visible increase of peaceful

empire bred this spirit as of a nation,—no longer merely confederated,

a nation knit and united for a common history of achievement. General

Jackson, coming from the frontier, where this mighty force of nationality

was visibly afoot, seemed to embody the new spirit of power in his rough,

imperious sense of a right, as President, to override and command. Mr.

Webster, though no friend of Jackson’s, clothed what was in effect the

same conception in terms of statesmanship and law. Under his touch

the constitution seemed to partake of the growth which it had only

engendered. It was of necessity, as he read it, no mere document, but a

vehicle of life. Its sanctions could be made to cover every change that

added to the unity or the greatness of the nation. Its quiet phrases

could always be heard to speak the spirit of the times.

[Illustration: THE DE WITT CLINTON TRAIN WHICH RAN IN 1830 BETWEEN ALBANY

AND SCHENECTADY

Copyright, 1893, by A. P. Yates.]

But what of those parts of the nation which had kept to the old models

of federal life, which did not change, and would accept no law but that

which read as it had always read since they were nurtured? The South

had had little part or lot in the transformations of the new age. Her

life was unaltered from of old. She lived and thought as she had always

lived and thought. The Union was still the same to her that it had been

to all the States alike in that first generation whose life and thought

she kept. There had been no amendment of the fundamental law. Could the

law change because men’s thoughts had changed and their interests? No

doubt, in her reaction against what she saw afoot, she stiffened the old

doctrines and exaggerated them. Mr. Madison, who had drafted the Virginia

Resolutions of ’98, rejected very warmly the nullification doctrines of

Mr. Calhoun and Mr. Hayne, not a little stirred and agitated in his quiet

retirement at Montpellier by this new threat of disunion. Any doctrine

would have worn a look of heightened rigor stated in Mr. Calhoun’s clear,

uncompromising way, and probably no man of the elder generation, had he

been willing to formulate it at all, would have stated it so absolutely.

The exigency and the sudden passion of opposition had given it this sharp

and novel phrase. Mr. Webster, with characteristic genius, had met it

with its opposite, as sharp and uncompromising, the ideal for which the

men of the constitutional convention had prayed and which since their day

had sprung into life while no man observed.

[Illustration: DANIEL WEBSTER]

The times seemed to bring all things to an issue. No doctrine which

touched practice so nearly could very long remain a thing of theory

while General Jackson was on the field of action, and the advocates of

nullification were of no mind to stop with the debate on the western

lands. On April 13, 1830, the leading Democrats at Washington celebrated

Mr. Jefferson’s birthday by a formal banquet, to which the President was

bidden. They took their cue from Mr. Calhoun and the southerners, and the

toasts they gave smacked shrewdly of nullification. When the President

saw their drift he got to his feet and bluntly proposed this sentiment

as his own: “Our federal Union: it _must_ be preserved.” “Liberty, dearer

than the Union,” cried the Vice President, in retort; but retort only

hardened the President’s temper; and Mr. Calhoun presently proved the

least likely person in the country to be able to soften it. The very

month that followed that memorable banquet General Jackson learned for

the first time that Mr. Calhoun, who had been Secretary of War during his

campaign against the Seminoles in 1818, had emphatically condemned his

unauthorized capture of Pensacola as a wanton act of war against Spain,

and had demanded an official investigation of it, with a view to its

repudiation. Hitherto he had deemed Mr. Calhoun his friend; now he deemed

him basely deceitful for having played his friend after such conduct in

cabinet against him. He could not separate official action in such a

matter from personal enmity; and no explanation that Mr. Calhoun could

make did more than increase his bitter anger. He turned from all who

followed or consorted with the South Carolinian.

[Illustration: BELL’S STEAMBOAT COMET, 1812]

Before another year was out he had reconstructed his cabinet, to

purge it of Mr. Calhoun’s friends, to constitute it of men really in

his confidence; partly also to discipline those members of the first

cabinet who had failed to satisfy him in a social quarrel. The ladies

of the cabinet circle refused recognition to Mrs. Eaton, the wife of

the Secretary of War, deeming her reputation not unimpeachable. General

Jackson believed her innocent of their charges,—was ready, indeed, to

believe any woman innocent, as his own wife had been, against whom cruel

things had been said unjustly; and was glad to show his resentment

against Mrs. Eaton’s enemies by putting the men forth from his counsels

whose wives had slighted her against his wishes.

The breach between the President and Mr. Calhoun was a serious sign of

the times. It not only embittered the President, it also cut all party

ties for Mr. Calhoun, and set him free to work out as he pleased the

opposition of his State to the burdensome tariff of 1828. It also made

Mr. Calhoun’s theories of nullification seem all the blacker, all the

more like treason, to the unforgiving old soldier, sure always of being

and of having been in the right. It freed Mr. Calhoun and his friends

from entangling alliances. They moved the straighter towards their

goal,—the vindication of the rights of the “staple States” against the

policy of federal tariffs. The hopes of 1828 had been dissipated and

the clash of sectional parties was at hand. In 1832 Congress, willing

to divert the rising storm by moderate concessions, passed a new tariff

Act, substituting for the “abominations” of 1828 a schedule of duties

substantially the same as those of 1824. But the new measure, like

the old, yielded nothing of the principle of protection, and the South

Carolinian leaders were in a humor now to contest the principle itself

and have done with it.

The year 1832 brought the season in which choice was once more to be

made of a President, and other matters waited a little until the choice

should be certainly known. A novel variety was lent to the field of

contest by the entrance of a new party. In 1826 one William Morgan, of

northwestern New York, had advertised a book which should make known

the secrets of Freemasonry, and had been kidnapped and was never seen

again. Popular indignation had fixed upon the society of Freemasons

itself as responsible for the crime, and an anti-Masonic party had

sprung up whose object it was to keep Freemasons out of places of public

trust. It had spread with surprising stir and persistency from State

to State, and in September, 1831, it summoned a national convention of

its partisans to display its strength and name candidates of its own

for the presidency and vice presidency. The regular parties followed

its cue. They also chose delegates out of the several States to meet in

nominating conventions and put their candidates in the field by formal

vote. The National Republicans nominated Mr. Clay, now leader of the

Senate and unquestioned leader of the party. The Democrats nominated

General Jackson, as of course, for a second term, and with him, for Vice

President, not Mr. Calhoun, but his own chosen lieutenant, Mr. Martin Van

Buren. The vote of the electors was decisive, as before. But six States

voted for Mr. Clay (Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Delaware,

Maryland, and Kentucky); seventeen voted for General Jackson. Vermont

gave her votes to the candidates of the Anti-Masons. The electors of

South Carolina, chosen as always by the legislature, held punctiliously

off from all parties and voted for candidates of their own.

[Illustration: FREIGHT AND PASSENGER CARS, 1848]

The election over, General Jackson once more chosen, her party ties

broken, her principles of opposition still unsanctioned and untested,

South Carolina proceeded with her radical programme of redress. On the

24th of November (1832) a state convention, summoned for the purpose

and formed upon the model of a constitutional convention, adopted and

promulgated a formal Ordinance of Nullification, which declared the

tariff Acts of 1828 and 1832 null and void and without force of law

within the jurisdiction of South Carolina, and gave solemn warning to

the rest of the country that any attempt on the part of the federal

government to enforce the nullified laws within her limits would sever

South Carolina’s connection with the Union and force her to organize

a separate government. The legislature of the State immediately took

steps looking towards a resumption of some of the powers before formally

surrendered to the Union, and provided for putting the State in

readiness to resist coercion by force of arms. Mr. Hayne was recalled

from Washington to become governor of the State; and Mr. Calhoun resigned

the vice presidency to take his place upon the floor of the Senate, that

he might there contest every inch of the ground in debate.

The President acted as every one who really knew him knew that he would

act. Opposition itself would in any case have been sufficient incitement

to action; but now the tonic of the election was in his veins. The

natural, straightforward, unhesitating vigor of the man dictated what

should be done. “Please give my compliments to my friends in your State,”

said the imperious old soldier to a member of the House from South

Carolina who asked his commands, “and say to them that if a single drop

of blood shall be shed there in opposition to the laws of the United

States, I will hang the first man I lay my hand on engaged in such

treasonable conduct, upon the first tree I can reach.” No one doubted

that he meant what he said. Before South Carolina’s convention met he had

instructed the collector of the port of Charleston to collect the duties,

resistance or no resistance; and when the Ordinance of Nullification

reached him he replied to it with a proclamation whose downright terms no

man could misread. For a little space he argued; but only for a little.

For the most part he commanded. “The laws of the United States,” he said,

“must be executed. I have no discretionary power on the subject,—my duty

is emphatically pronounced in the constitution. Those who told you that

you might peacefully prevent their execution deceived you.... Their

object is disunion, and disunion by armed force is treason.” It was

the doctrine of Webster in the mouth of a soldier. Congress voted the

President full power to deal with the crisis as circumstances should

demand.

[Illustration: THE FIRST CAPITOL OF TEXAS]

Even then South Carolina did not flinch or draw back; but men who loved

peace pressed forward on both sides to effect a compromise. Mr. Clay

planned and urged measures of accommodation with all the skill and

ardor and persuasiveness which made him so great a master of men, and

the tariff which was a thorn in South Carolina’s side, though not in

principle abandoned, was radically modified. A schedule of progressive

annual reductions was agreed upon (March, 1833) which should by July,

1842, bring practically all duties to the uniform rate of twenty _per

cent._ The Ordinance of Nullification was first suspended, then repealed;

and the conflict between the States and the Union was for a little while

put off.

The principal general _authorities_ for the interesting events

covered by this chapter are the second volume of Schouler,

the first and second volumes of Von Holst, the fourth volume

of Tucker, the fourth volume of Bryant and Gay; A. W. Young’s

_The American Statesman_; R. McK. Ormsby’s _History of the

Whig Party_; Edward Stanwood’s _History of the Presidency_;

Alexander Johnston’s _History of American Politics_; James

Parton’s _Life of Andrew Jackson_; William G. Sumner’s

_Andrew Jackson_ in the _American Statesmen Series_; Edward

M. Shepard’s _Martin Van Buren_, in the same series; Carl

Schurz’s _Henry Clay_, in the same series; Calvin Colton’s

_Life and Times of Henry Clay_; George Ticknor Curtis’s

_Life of Daniel Webster_ and _Life of James Buchanan_; John

T. Morse’s _John Quincy Adams_ and _Abraham Lincoln_ in the

_American Statesmen Series_; and Anson D. Morse’s _Political

Influence of Andrew Jackson_ in the first volume of _The

Political Science Quarterly_. With these are to be placed, as

general authorities for this, that, or the other special phase

or aspect of the time and its affairs, Jabez D. Hammond’s

_History of Political Parties in the State of New York_;

Arthur Holmes’s _Parties and their Principles_; Byrdsall’s

_History of the Loco Foco, or Equal Rights, Party_; John

McGregor’s _Progress of America_; F. W. Taussig’s _History of

the Tariff_; Henry A. Wise’s _Seven Decades of the Union_;

Alexander H. Stephens’s _Constitutional View of the War Between

the States_; the admirable articles on the several topics of

American history during these years by Alexander Johnston in

Lalor’s _Cyclopaedia of Political Science, Political Economy,

and United States History_; D. F. Houston’s _Critical Study

of Nullification in South Carolina_ (the third volume of the

_Harvard Historical Studies_); Frederick Law Olmsted’s _Cotton

Kingdom_; the second volume of W. W. Story’s _Life of Joseph

Story_; Henry C. Lodge’s _Daniel Webster_, H. Von Holst’s _John

C. Calhoun_, Theodore Roosevelt’s _Thomas H. Benton_, and A. C.

McLaughlin’s _Lewis Cass_ in the _American Statesmen Series_;

James Bryce’s _Predictions of Hamilton and De Tocqueville_ in

the fifth volume of the _Johns Hopkins Studies in Historical

and Political Science_; Lucy M. Salmon’s _History of the

Appointing Power_; and E. C. Mason’s _Veto Power_ (first volume

of the _Harvard Historical Studies_).

The chief _sources_ are the _Register of Debates_ and

_Congressional Documents_; _The Congressional Globe_, which

begins with these years; Thomas H. Benton’s _Abridgment of

the Debates of Congress_; _The Statesman’s Manual_, vol.

II.; _Niles’s Register_, volumes XXXV.-XLIV.; the _Tenth

Census, Population_; the first volume of Alexander Johnston’s

_Representative American Orations_; F. W. Taussig’s _State

Papers and Speeches on the Tariff_; the _American State

Papers_; Josiah Quincy’s _Figures of the Past_; George Tucker’s

_Progress of the United States in Fifty Years_; John Trumbull’s

_Autobiography_; Amos Kendall’s _Autobiography_; Alexis

de Tocqueville’s _Democracy in America_; S. G. Goodrich’s

_Recollections of a Lifetime_; Hugh McCulloch’s _Men and

Measures of Half a Century_; Nathan Sargent’s _Public Men

and Events_; John Quincy Adams’s _Memoirs_; J. A. Hamilton’s

_Reminiscences; Men and Events at Home and Abroad_; Thomas H.

Benton’s _Thirty Years’ View_; Ben. Perley Poore’s _Perley’s

Reminiscences_; Mrs. Chapman Coleman’s _Life of John J.

Crittenden_; Basil Hall’s _Travels in North America in the

Years 1827 and 1828_; John Finch’s _Travels in the United

States and Canada_ (1833); Mrs. Trollope’s _Domestic Manners

of the Americans_; Michael Chevalier’s _Society, Manners, and

Politics in the United States_ (1834-1835); Harriet Martineau’s

_Society in America_ (1834-1836); Seba Smith’s _Letters of

Major Jack Downing_ (satirical); Martin Van Buren’s _Inquiry

into the Origin and Growth of Political Parties in the United

States_; General Court of Massachusetts, _State Papers on

Nullification_; the _Letters_, _Speeches_, and _Works_ of the

leading public men of the day.

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