CHAPTER III

ELECTION TO THE ILLINOIS LEGISLATURE: LINCOLN-DOUGLAS DEBATES

1856 to 1858

In the year 1856 I had rather unusual experiences of both victory

and defeat in one and the same political campaign. As candidate

for the Legislature I won out, being elected; as the chosen elector

on the Fillmore ticket, I went down in the party's defeat. The

Whig party was in its expiring days, and what was called the "Know-

Nothing" party was apparently a temporary substitute for it.

Fillmore carried one solitary state--Maryland. Buchanan was elected

by quite a large majority over both Fremont and Fillmore combined.

The administration of President Buchanan has been so frequently

and fully described that there is little, if anything, new to say

about it; but such were the fearful responsibilities incurred by

it for the subsequent bloodshed, that its shortcomings cannot be

entirely ignored in the intelligible presentation of the course of

events which gave direction to my observations and activities.

The campaign of 1856 had been one of the most exiting and hotly

contested ever fought in the State. The only hope the Democrats

had of success was in the division of their opponents and in

preventing their fusion. Their denunciations of abolitionists and

"Black Republicans," as they termed their antagonists, were without

bounds. But here and there some one would be called to account,

as in the case of the late John M. Palmer, since distinguished in

war and peace, and some years ago candidate of the Gold Democrats

for the Presidency.

Between him and Major Harris, then running for Congress in his

district, there had been considerable ill-feeling. The major had

written a letter to be read at a Democratic meeting at which Palmer

was present. It was very abusive of the Republicans, and Palmer

rising, remarked the fact that the author would not dare make such

charges to the face of any honest man. Harris, as related by the

historian Moses, hearing of this, announced that he would resent

it at the first opportunity. This Palmer soon gave him by attending

one of his meetings. The major in the course of his remarks indulged

in the most vituperative language against abolitionists, calling

them disturbers of the peace, incendiaries, and falsifiers; and at

length, turning to Palmer and pointing his finger at him, said, "I

mean you, sir!" Palmer rising to his feet, instantly replied,

"Well, sir, if you apply that language to me you are a dastardly

liar!" And drawing a pistol, he started toward the speaker's stand.

"Now, sir," he continued, "when you get through, I propose to reply

to you." The major had not anticipated this turn of affairs, but

prudently kept his temper and finished his speech. Then Palmer

arose and, laying his weapon before him, cocked, proceeded to give

the Democratic party such a castigation as none of those present

had ever heard before.

It was in the campaign of 1856 that I first began to make political

speeches. James H. Matheny, who was then our circuit clerk,

accompanied me to several meetings where we both delivered addresses.

He was an old Whig inclined toward Democracy, and I was a Whig

inclined toward Republicanism. The result was I made Republican

speeches, while Judge Matheny made Democratic speeches.

Our first meeting away from home was at Petersburg, Menard County.

Being a candidate for elector on the Fillmore ticket, I made my

first away-from-home speech, which I thought was a pretty good

Republican speech. Matheny followed me with a hot Democratic

speech, attacking especially Judge Trumbull, then our United States

Senator. I remained pretty steadily in the campaign of that year,

making about the same character of speech wherever I went.

Fillmore was very popular in Central Illinois, where the Whig party

also had quite a large following during its palmy days, but he did

not receive votes enough to come anywhere near carrying the State.

Sangamon, my home county, and Tazewell County, where I was brought

up, both gave their majority votes for Fillmore.

The Hon. John T. Stuart and his partner, the Hon. B. S. Edwards,

with whom I studied law, besides being able lawyers and first-class

men, were both Whigs; Mr. Stuart especially took an active part in

the campaign. The latter was invited to attend what was called a

Fillmore meeting at Shelbyville, several counties away from Sangamon.

It so happened that he could not go, and the people of Shelbyville

telegraphed for me. I went, and it turned out to be a combined

Fremont, Buchanan, and Fillmore meeting--at least the three meetings

there were held all on the same day.

The Fillmore camp gathered its forces out in the woods until about

two o'clock in the afternoon. The Buchanan and Fremont crowds then

marched in, informing the first-comers that they regarded their

right to have the first meeting pre-eminent. An agreement was

arrived at after some little wrangling, and old General Thornton

was chosen to preside. He determined that, as I was not only a

young man but the farthest from home, I should make the first speech

--an arrangement that suited me very well.

I made my speech, as good a one as I could, and in closing, somewhat

hurriedly announced that I was obliged to leave for home, much as

I might wish to remain with them to the close of the meeting. The

result was that most of the Fillmore people followed me away and

came nearly breaking up the whole performance. I urged them to go

back and listen to the other speakers; but they declined to do so

until I had gotten off for home. It was my first venture at speech-

making away from home on national issues.

I worked and voted for Fillmore because I had a very high opinion

of him as a good man, and did not then think very much of Fremont

as a proper candidate for the Presidency. Subsequently Fremont

became better known, and occupied a high place in the estimation

of the people of the United States, as a gallant soldier and a

statesman, enjoying the unique honor of having been the first

candidate of the Republican party for President.

I have taken an active part in every campaign since 1856, excepting

when poor health prevented a regular speaking campaign.

The animosities of the campaign of 1856 were carried into the

Legislature and kept alive in the House during the entire session.

Governor Bissell's inaugural address was a dignified State paper

in which he referred to the administration of his predecessor in

highly complimentary terms. He concurred in all his recommendations,

but suggested no measures of his own. Although he had commented

briefly upon the Kansas-Nebraska controversy, and in mild terms,

his remarks stirred the ire of the Democrats. Upon the motion to

print the address, a virulent attack was made upon him, led, strange

to say, by John A. Logan, afterwards the foremost volunteer general

of the Union, and a Republican of Republicans. The rancor of the

Democrats against Governor Bissell, who at that time was a physical

wreck from a stroke of paralysis, though mentally sound, was largely

due to their recollection of the fearless manner in which he had

responded, some years before, to a challenge given him by Jefferson

Davis to a duel. That episode has long since become historic, and

I need not enlarge upon it here.

As was the political temper in the State of Illinois, so was it,

to a greater or less degree, throughout the entire Nation.

Buchanan's first message repeated the assurance that the discussion

of slavery had come to an end. The clergy were criticised for

fomenting prevalent disturbances. The President declared in favor

of the admission of Kansas, with a Constitution agreeable to a

majority of the settlers. He also referred to an impending decision

of the Supreme Court, with which he had been made acquainted, and

asked acquiescence in it. This was Judge Taney's decision in the

Dred Scott case, rendered two days after Buchanan's inauguration.

An action had been begun in the Circuit Court in Missouri by Scott,

a negro, for the freedom of himself and children. He claimed that

he had been removed by his master in 1834 to Illinois, a Free State,

and afterwards taken into territory north of the compromise line.

Sanford, his master, replied that Scott was not a citizen of

Missouri, and could not bring an action, and that he and his children

were Sanford's slaves. The lower courts differed, and the case

was twice argued. The decision nullified the Missouri restriction,

or, indeed, any restriction by Congress on slavery in the Territories.

Chief-Justice Taney said:

"The question is whether the class of persons (negroes) compose a

portion of the people, and are constituent members of this sovereignty.

We think they are not included under the word 'citizen' in the

Constitution, and can therefore claim none of the rights and

privileges of that instrument."

Negroes, as a race, were at that time considered as a subordinate

and inferior class who had been subjugated by the dominant whites,

and had no rights or privileges except such as those who held the

power and the government might choose to grant them. They had for

more than a century been regarded as beings of an inferior grade--

so far inferior that they possessed no rights which the white man

was bound to respect; and the negro might justly and lawfully be

reduced to slavery for his (the white man's) benefit. The negro

race by common consent had been excluded from civilized governments

and the family of nations, and doomed to slavery. The unhappy

black race was separated from the whites by indelible marks long

before established, and was never thought of or spoken of except

as property.

The Chief-Justice further annulled the Missouri restriction, by

asserting that "the act of Congress which prohibited a citizen from

holding property of this kind north of the line therein mentioned

is not warranted by the Constitution, and is therefore void."

Benton said that it was "no longer the exception, with freedom the

rule; but slavery was the rule, with freedom the exception."

It was a year of financial distress in America, which recalled the

hard times of twenty years before. The United States treasury was

empty.

Early in this year (1856) a Legislature had met at Topeka, Kansas,

and was immediately dissolved by the United States marshals. A

Territorial Legislature also met at Lecompton and provided for a

State Constitution. The people of Kansas utterly refused to

recognize the latter body which had been chosen by the Missouri

invaders, and both parties continued to hold their elections.

Thus it may be seen that these episodes were the culmination of a

long series of events leading to a new alignment of the country's

political forces. The Republican party was the child of this

ferment of unrest. The formation of a new political party, or the

regeneration of an old one, is always due to events, and not to

the schemes and purposes of men except as events sometimes originate

in such purposes and schemes. In this case the steps in the course

of events which had rendered the formation of an anti-slavery party

inevitable were: The pro-slavery provisions of the Constitution,

the foreign slave trade, the acquisition of the Territory of

Louisiana, the invention of the cotton-gin and its effects, the

Missouri Compromise, the nullification schemes of South Carolina,

the colonization and annexation of Texas, the Mexican War, the

contest over the admission of California, the Compromise Measure

of 1850, and finally the repeal of the Missouri Compromise in 1854.

The name of the party was an incident only, and not an essential

or very important incident; its principles and purposes were the

vital facts. When events demand a new party, or the reorganization

of an old one, all resistance is usually borne down speedily. On

the other hand, it is a wasteful exhibition of human power to

attempt the creation of a new party by the force of combined will

and resolutions formulated in public meetings. Abraham Lincoln's

great experience or keener penetration, or both, guided him at the

outset of the realignments on political issues, and at the opening

of the Congressional campaign of 1858, I followed him firmly and

without mental reservation into the ranks of the Republican party.

Hence it was that I was present on that historic occasion when the

Republican party of the State of Illinois held a convention at

Springfield, June 17 of the year named, and nominated Lincoln for

the seat in the United States Senate, then held by Stephen A.

Douglas, who at that time was usually affectionately referred to

by his partisan followers as "The Little Giant." This nomination

was anticipated, and Mr. Lincoln had prepared a speech, which he

then delivered, in which he set forth, in a manner now universally

recognized as masterly, the doctrines of the Republican party. He

arraigned the administration of Mr. Buchanan and denounced the

repeal of the Missouri Compromise under the lead of Senator Douglas.

In that speech he made the declaration, which I remember as clearly

as though an event of yesterday, then characterized as extravagant

but long since accepted as prophetic: "I believe this Government

cannot endure permanently, half slave and half free."

That address inaugurated a discussion which has no exact parallel

in history--certainly no equal in American political history. It

introduced Mr. Lincoln to the country at large, and prepared the

way for his nomination to the Presidency two years later. On the

declaration above quoted Mr. Douglas based many arguments, in vain

attempts to prove that Mr. Lincoln was a disunionist.

During this period Douglas addressed an enthusiastic assemblage at

Chicago, and in the course of his speech adverted to the arraignment

of himself by Mr. Lincoln. He took direct issue with that gentleman

on his proposition that, as to Freedom and Slavery, "the Union will

become _all_ one thing or _all_ the other," and maintained strenuously

that "it is neither desirable nor possible that there should be

uniformity in the local institutions and domestic regulations of

the different States of this Union."

An announcement that Mr. Lincoln would reply to Mr. Douglas on the

following evening brought out another assemblage, July 10, which

was awakened, before the speaker had concluded, to an enthusiasm

at least equal to that which the eloquence of Douglas had aroused.

The issues involved in this famous series of debates are too familiar

to all students of our Nation's political history to be considered

at length in these pages. Mr. Lincoln analyzed and answered the

various arguments advanced by Mr. Douglas the evening before; and

the closing paragraphs of his reply to the insistent reminders

"that this Government was made for white men," were memorable:

"Those arguments that are made, that the inferior race are to be

treated with as much allowance as they are capable of enjoying;

that as much is to be done for them as their conditions will allow.

What are these arguments? They are the arguments that kings have

made for enslaving the people in all ages of the world. You will

find that all the arguments in favor of kingcraft were of this

class; they always bestrode the necks of the people, not that they

wanted to do it, but because the people were better off for being

ridden. That is their argument, and this argument of the Judge is

the same old serpent that says: 'You work, and I eat; you toil,

and I will enjoy the fruits of it.'"

Six days thereafter, July 16, Senator Douglas in a great speech

again tried to break the force of his opponent's facts and logic.

This was at Bloomington, and Mr. Lincoln was again a careful

listener. On the evening following, July 17, at Springfield, before

an enthusiastic audience, he proceeded to dissect the matters so

plausibly presented.

At the same hour Douglas was addressing a Springfield audience of

his own, ridiculing especially Mr. Lincoln's alleged attitude toward

the Supreme Court.

Contrasting the disadvantages under which, by reason of an unfair

apportionment of State Legislature representation and otherwise,

the Republicans labored in that campaign, Mr. Lincoln on that

occasion said in the course of his talk:

"Senator Douglas is of world-wide renown. All the anxious politicians

of his party, or who have been of his party for years past, have

been looking upon him as certainly, at no distant day, to be the

President of the United States. They have seen in his round, jolly,

fruitful face, post-offices, land-offices, marshalships, and cabinet

appointments, _chargé_-ships and foreign missions, bursting and

sprouting out in wonderful exuberance, ready to be laid hold of by

their greedy hands. And as they have been gazing upon this attractive

picture so long, they cannot, in the little distraction that has

taken place in the party, bring themselves to give up the charming

hope; but with greedier anxiety they rush about him, sustain him,

and give him marches, triumphal entries, and receptions, beyond

what even in the days of his highest prosperity they could have

brought about in his favor. On the contrary, nobody has ever

expected me to be President. In my poor, lean, lank face, nobody

has ever seen that any cabbages were sprouting out."

He affirmed that Popular Sovereignty, "the great staple" of the

Douglas campaign, was "the most arrant Quixotism that was ever

enacted before a community."

As a result of these preliminary speeches of the Congressional

campaign it was generally conceded that, at last, the "Little Giant"

had met his match, and the intellectual and political appetites of

the public called for more. In recognition of this demand, Mr.

Lincoln opened a correspondence which led to an agreement with Mr.

Douglas for a series of joint discussions, seven in number, on fixed

dates in August, September, and October. Alternately they were,

in succession, to open the discussion and speak for an hour, with

another half-hour at the close after the other had spoken for an

hour and a half continuously. My friend and schoolmate, the late

Mr. R. R. Hitt, an efficient stenographer, was employed to report

the whole series, and thus we have a full record of the most

remarkable debate, viewed from all points, that has ever occurred

in American history--possibly without a parallel in the world's

history. Vast assemblages gathered from far and near and listened

with breathless attention to these absorbingly interesting

discussions.

Notwithstanding the intense partisan feeling that was evoked, the

discussion proceeded amidst surroundings characterized by the utmost

decorum. The people evidently felt that the greatest of all

political principles, that of human liberty itself, was hanging on

the issue of this great political contest between intellectual

giants, thus openly waged before the world. They accordingly rose

to the dignity and solemnity of the occasion, as has been well said

by one who was then a zealous follower of Douglas, vindicating by

their very example the sacredness with which the right of free

speech should be regarded at all times and everywhere.

I have elsewhere described the disappointment I personally felt at

the result, when the election returns came in. Although the popular

vote stood 125,698 for Lincoln to 121,130 for Douglas--showing a

victory for Lincoln among the people--yet enough Douglas Democrats

were elected to the Legislature, when added to those of his friends

in the Illinois Senate elected two years before and held over, to

give him fifty-four members of both branches of the Legislature on

joint ballot, against forty-six for Mr. Lincoln.

Fifty Years of Public Service Personal Recollections of Shelby M. Cullom, Senior United States Senator from Illinois · 第 3 / 34 章