CHAPTER XV.

THE elections for the Twelfth Congress, as far as they took

place in 1810, showed a change in public opinion, and not only reduced

the Federalists to their old rank of a faction rather than a party,

but also weakened the conservative Republicans of Jefferson’s school;

while the losses of both strengthened a new party, which called itself

Republican, but favored energy in government. Henry Clay and William

Lowndes, John C. Calhoun and Felix Grundy, Langdon Cheves and Peter B.

Porter, whatever they might at times say, cared little for Jeffersonian

or Madisonian dogmas. The election which decided the character of

the Twelfth Congress, by choosing men of this character to lead it,

decided also the popular judgment on the Eleventh Congress, which had

as yet run only half its course. Rarely in American history has any

particular Congress been held in high popular esteem, but seldom if

ever was a Congress overwhelmed by contempt so deep and general as that

which withered the Eleventh in the midst of its career. Not only did

Republicans and Federalists think alike for once, but even among the

members themselves no one of weight had a good word to say of the body

to which he belonged.

Quick to feel a popular rebuke, Congressmen submitted to punishment,

and obeyed the orders they would rather have resisted; but their work

in such a temper was sure to be done without good-will or good faith,

for a body which had lost its own respect could hardly respect its

successor. The American system of prolonging the existence of one

Legislature after electing another, never worked worse in practice

than when it allowed this rump Congress of 1809, the mere scourings

of the embargo, to assume the task of preparing for the War of 1812,

to which it was altogether opposed and in which it could not believe.

No Congress had been confronted by greater perplexities. President

Madison submitted to it a number of Executive acts more than doubtful

in legality, which must all be approved; and these measures, when

approved, led to a policy of war with England and Spain, which required

great increase of Executive strength, careful reorganization of the

Executive machinery, especially great care of the national credit and

of its chief financial agents,--political duties of extreme difficulty

and delicacy.

President Madison’s Annual Message, December 5, called attention to

such business as he wished to present. Naturally, the revocation of

the French Decrees took the first place. The President assumed that

the revocation was complete, and that his proclamation was issued

in regular course, “as prescribed by law,” the President having

no discretion; but he admitted disappointment that the sequestered

property had not been restored. “It was particularly anticipated that,

as a further evidence of just disposition toward them, restoration

would have been immediately made of the property of our citizens,

seized under a misapplication of the principle of reprisals, combined

with a misconstruction of a law of the United States. This expectation

has not been fulfilled.” England had not yet relinquished her

illegitimate blockades, and she avowed that the blockade of May, 1806,

was comprehended in the subsequent Orders in Council; the withdrawal of

that blockade had therefore been required by the President as one of

the conditions of renewing intercourse with Great Britain. The state of

the Spanish monarchy had produced a change in West Florida, a district

“which though of right appertaining to the United States had remained

in the possession of Spain, awaiting the result of negotiations for its

actual delivery to them.” The Spanish authority being subverted, the

President did not delay taking possession; “the legality and necessity

of the course pursued assure me of the favorable light in which it will

present itself to the Legislature.”

If this sketch of foreign affairs lacked perfect candor, the view

of domestic concerns gave matter for other doubts. “With the Indian

tribes,” said the Message, “the peace and friendship of the United

States are found to be so eligible that the general disposition to

preserve both continues to gain strength.” The story of Tippecanoe and

Tecumthe soon threw new light on this assertion. To Indian friendship

domestic prosperity succeeded, and the Message praised the economy

and policy of manufactures. “How far it may be expedient to guard the

infancy of this improvement in the distribution of labor by regulations

of the commercial tariff, is a subject which cannot fail to suggest

itself to your patriotic reflections.” A navigation law was also

required to place American shipping on a level of competition with

foreign vessels. A national university “would contribute not less to

strengthen the foundations than to adorn the structure of our free

and happy system of government.” Further means for repressing the

slave-trade were required. Fortifications, arms, and organization of

the militia were to be provided. The Military School at West Point

needed enlargement.

Congress found more satisfaction in Gallatin’s Annual Report, sent to

Congress a week afterward, than they could draw from Madison’s Message,

for Gallatin told them that he had succeeded in bringing the current

expenses within the annual income; and only in case they should decide

to prohibit the importation of British goods after Feb. 2, 1811, should

he need further legislation both to make good the revenue and to

enforce the prohibition.

Congress lost no time. West Florida called first for attention; and

Senator Giles, December 18, reported a bill extending the territory

of Orleans to the river Perdido, in accordance with the President’s

measures. In the debate which followed, Federalist senators attacked

the President for exceeding the law and violating the Constitution.

Their argument was founded on the facts already told, and required

nothing more to support it; but the defence had greater interest, for

no one could foretell with certainty by what expedient senators would

cover an Executive act which, like the purchase of Louisiana itself,

had best be accepted in silence as plainly beyond the Constitution.

Henry Clay acted as the President’s champion, and explained on his

behalf that the Act of Oct. 31, 1803, authorizing the President to

occupy the ceded territory of Louisiana, was still in force, although

regular possession to the Iberville had been taken, Dec. 20, 1803, in

pursuance of that Act, without further demand on the part of the United

States, and although the Act of March 20, 1804, providing for the

temporary government of the territory, declared that “the Act passed

the 31st day of October ... shall continue in force until the 1st day

of October, 1804.” In face of this double difficulty,--the exhaustion

of the power and its express limitation,--Clay asserted that the power

had not been exhausted, and that the limitation, though apparently

general, was intended only for the provisional government established

by another portion of the Act of 1803. He produced in his support the

Act of Feb. 24, 1804, empowering the President, to erect West Florida

into a collection district whenever he deemed it expedient. “These

laws,” continued Clay, “furnish a legislative construction of the

treaty correspondent with that given by the Executive, and they vest in

this branch of the government indisputably a power to take possession

of the country whenever it might be proper in his discretion.”

Congress approved this opinion, which was in truth neither weaker nor

stronger than the arguments by which the Louisiana purchase itself had

been sustained. Fate willed that every measure connected with that

territory should be imbued with the same spirit of force or fraud which

tainted its title. The Southern States needed the Floridas, and cared

little what law might be cited to warrant seizing them; yet a Virginia

Republican should have been startled at learning that after October,

1803, every President, past or to come, had the right to march the

army or send the navy of the United States at any time to occupy not

only West Florida, but also Texas and Oregon, as far as the North Pole

itself, since they claimed it all, except the Russian possessions, as a

part of the Louisiana purchase, with more reason than they claimed West

Florida.

As usual, the most pungent critic of Republican doctrines was

Senator Pickering, who if he could not convince, could always annoy

the majority. He replied to Clay, and in the course of his speech

read Talleyrand’s letter of Dec. 21, 1804, which put an end to

Monroe’s attempt to include West Florida in the Louisiana purchase.

Nothing could be more apt; but nothing could be more annoying to

the Administration, for Talleyrand’s letter was still secret.

Confidentially communicated with other papers to Congress by Jefferson,

Dec. 6, 1805, the injunction of secrecy had never been removed, and the

publication tended to throw contempt on Madison not only for his past

but particularly for his present dalliance with Napoleon. Pickering

could charge, with more than usual appearance of probability, that West

Florida was to be Madison’s reward for accepting the plainly deceptive

pledge of Cadore’s letter of August 5. The Senate, with some doubts,

resented Pickering’s conduct to a moderate extent. Samuel Smith moved

it to be “a palpable violation of the rules;” and with the omission

of “palpable,” the resolution was adopted. The deference to Executive

authority which allowed so important a paper to be suppressed for five

years showed more political sagacity than was proved in censuring

Pickering by a party vote, which he would regard as a compliment,

because he read a document that the Administration should have been

ashamed not to publish and resent.

The interlude helped only to embarrass the true question,--what should

be done with West Florida. President Madison’s doctrine, embodied

in Giles’s bill, carried out the Livingston-Monroe theory that West

Florida belonged to Louisiana. In theory, this arrangement might answer

the purpose for which it was invented; but in fact West Florida did not

belong to Louisiana, either as a Spanish or as an American province,

and could not be treated as though it did. If Mobile Bay and the Gulf

coast as far as the Perdido belonged to Louisiana, the territory

afterward divided into the States of Alabama and Mississippi had no

outlet to the gulf. Georgia would never consent to such treatment,

merely to support President Madison in alleging that West Florida was

occupied by him as a part of the Orleans territory. Senator Giles’s

bill was silently dropped.

The Senate reached this point December 31, but meanwhile the House

reached the same standstill from another side. December 17 the Speaker

appointed a committee, with Macon at its head, to report on the

admission of Orleans territory as a State. The admission of the State

of Louisiana into the Union was for many reasons a serious moment in

American history; but one of its lesser incidents was the doubt which

so much perplexed the Senate, whether Louisiana included West Florida.

If this was the case, then by the third article of the treaty of

purchase the inhabitants of Mobile and the district between Mobile and

Baton Rouge, without division, should be “incorporated in the Union of

the United States, and admitted as soon as possible” to the Union as

part of the territory of Orleans. This was the opinion of Macon and

his committee, as it had been that of Giles and his committee, and

of the President and his Cabinet. December 27 Macon reported a bill

admitting Louisiana, with West Florida to the Perdido, as a State;

but no sooner did the debates begin, than the Georgians for the first

time showed delicacy in regard to the rights of Spain. Troup could not

consent to include in any State this territory “yet in dispute and

subject to negotiation.” Bibb held the same misgivings: “The President

by his proclamation, although he had required its occupation, had

declared that the right should be subject to negotiation; now, if it

became a State, would not all right of negotiation be taken from the

President?” To prevent this danger, Bibb moved that West Florida, from

the Iberville to the Perdido, should be annexed to the Mississippi

Territory or made a separate government.

On the other hand, Rhea of Tennessee held that no other course was open

to Congress than to admit the Orleans territory in its full extent as

ceded by France, according to the President’s assertion. The treaty

was peremptory, and Congress was bound by it to annex no part of the

Orleans purchase to a pre-existing territory. West Florida belonged to

Louisiana, and could not lawfully be given to Mississippi.

The House tried as usual to defer or compromise its difficulty. January

9, Macon’s bill was so amended as to withdraw West Florida from its

operation; but when on the following day two members in succession

asked the House to provide a government for West Florida, the House

referred the motions back to the committee, and there the matter

rested. No man knew whether West Florida belonged to Louisiana or not.

If the President was right, Mobile and all the Gulf shore to a point

within ten miles of Pensacola, although still held by the Spaniards,

made part of the State of Louisiana, and even an Act of Congress

could not affect it; while if this was not the case, the President in

ordering the seizure of West Florida had violated the Constitution and

made war on Spain.

Hardly had the House admitted its helplessness in the face of this

difficulty, when it was obliged to meet the larger issue involved in

the Louisiana affair; for Jan. 14, 1811, Josiah Quincy, with extreme

deliberation, uttered and committed to writing a sentence which

remained long famous:--

“If this bill passes, it is my deliberate opinion that it is

virtually a dissolution of this Union; that it will free the

States from their moral obligation; and, as it will be the right

of all, so it will be the duty of some, definitely to prepare

for a separation,--amicably if they can, violently if they must.”

The Speaker decided this language to be disorderly; but the House, by

a vote of fifty-six to fifty-three, reversed the ruling, and Quincy

went on arguing, as Jefferson had argued eight years before, that the

introduction of new States, outside the original Union, was no part of

the compact, and must end in overwhelming the original partners.

Quincy’s protest wanted only one quality to give it force. He spoke

in the name of no party to the original compact. His own State of

Massachusetts assented to the admission of Louisiana, and neither the

governor nor the legislature countenanced the doctrine of Quincy and

Pickering. If the partners themselves made no protest, the act had all

the legality it needed, in the absence of appeal to higher authority;

but it consummated a change in the nature of the United States

government, and its results, however slow, could not fail to create

what was in effect a new Constitution.

The House, without further delay, passed the bill by a vote of

seventy-seven to thirty-six. After some amendment by the Senate, and

dispute between the Houses, the bill was sent to the President, and

Feb. 20, 1811, received his signature. The Act fixed the Iberville

and the Sabine for the eastern and western boundaries of the new

State. Meanwhile West Florida remained, till further legislation, a

part of Orleans Territory for all purposes except those of admission

into the Union; and, according to the view implied by the action of

Executive and Legislature, the President retained power to order the

military occupation of Texas under the Act of Oct. 31, 1803, subject to

government afterward, like West Florida, by the proconsular authority

of the Executive.

As though the Florida affair needed still further complication,

the President, January 3, sent to Congress a secret message asking

authority to seize East Florida:--

“I recommend ... the expediency of authorizing the Executive

to take temporary possession of any part or parts of the said

territory, in pursuance of arrangements which may be desired by

the Spanish authorities.... The wisdom of Congress will at the

same time determine how far it may be expedient to provide for

the event of a subversion of the Spanish authorities within the

territory in question, and an apprehended occupancy thereof by

any other foreign Power.”

In secret session Congress debated and passed an Act, approved Jan.

15, 1811, authorizing the President to take possession of East

Florida, in case the local authority should consent or a foreign Power

should attempt to occupy it. The President immediately appointed two

commissioners to carry the law into effect. The orders he gave them,

the meaning they put on these orders, the action they took, and the

President’s further measures were to form another remarkable episode in

the complicated history of Florida.

Congress next turned to the charter of the United States Bank; but

if it succumbed before West Florida, it was helpless in dealing with

finance. Long hesitation had ended by creating difficulties. Local

interests hostile to the Bank sprang into existence. In many States

private banks were applying for charters, and preparing to issue notes

in the hope of seizing their share of the profits of the United States

Bank. The influence of these new corporations was great. They induced

one State legislature after another to instruct their senators on the

subject. That Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, and Maryland should wish to

appropriate the profits of the National Bank was not surprising, but

that Virginia and Kentucky should make themselves instruments of the

capitalist States showed little knowledge of their true interests. As

the crisis came near, the struggle became hotter, until it rivalled the

embargo excitement, and every hour of delay increased the vehemence of

opposition to the charter.

The Bank was vulnerable on more than one side. Largely owned in

England, it roused jealousy as a foreign influence. Congress could

hardly blame this ownership, since Congress itself, in 1802, aided

President Jefferson in selling to the Barings, at a premium of

forty-five per cent, the two thousand two hundred and twenty Bank

shares still belonging to the government. The operation brought to

the Treasury not only a profit of four hundred thousand dollars in

premiums, but also about thirteen hundred thousand dollars of British

capital to be used for American purposes. Fully two thirds of the

Bank stock, amounting to ten million dollars, were owned in England;

all the five thousand shares originally subscribed by the United

States government had been sold to England; and as the Bank was a

mere creature of the United States government, these seven millions

of British capital were equivalent to a score of British frigates or

regiments lent to the United States to use against England in war. By

returning them, the United States seriously weakened themselves and

strengthened their enemy.

Unfortunately this interest was national. Local interests felt that

Englishmen received profits which should belong to Americans; and

capitalists in general were not inclined to lower their profits

by inviting foreign capital into the country unless they shared

its returns. The second misfortune of the Bank was that of being a

Federalist creation, chiefly used for the benefit of Federalists, who

owned most of the active capital in the country. The third objection

went deeper. The Bank was the last vestige of strong government created

by the Federalists,--a possible engine of despotism; and no one could

deny that if decentralization was wise, the Bank should be suppressed.

Finally, the Bank was a bulwark to Gallatin; its destruction would

weaken Madison and drive Gallatin from office.

Doubtless the objections to the Bank were so strong as some day to

become fatal. In a society and government so little developed as those

of America, a National Bank was out of keeping with other institutions.

Even in England and France these banks exercised more influence over

the Treasury than was proper; and in America, if once the Bank should

unite in political sympathy with the Government, it might do no little

harm. The necessity for such an institution was merely one of the

moment, but in the period of national history between 1790 and 1860,

the year 1811 was perhaps the only moment when destruction of the Bank

threatened national ruin. A financial cataclysm had prostrated credit

from St. Petersburg to New Orleans. Prices were nominal. England owed

America large sums of money, but instead of discharging the debt, she

was trying to escape payment and withdraw specie. Already the supply of

specie in the United States was insufficient to sustain the bank-note

circulation. In New York city the State banks were supposed to hold not

more than half a million dollars, and in Pennsylvania not much more

than a million; while the Bank of the United States had lost three and

a half millions in eleven months, and had but five and a half millions

left.[268]

Meanwhile the State banks not only expanded their issues, but also

rapidly increased in number. Suppression of the National Bank could not

fail to stimulate this movement. “The banks established by the State

legislatures will scramble for the privilege of filling the chasm to

be made by the destruction of the Bank of the United States. Already

are they preparing for the patriotic endeavor. Our State legislatures

are to be importuned to become bank jobbers and joint undertakers and

copartners in the enterprise.”[269] Nothing could prevent expansion of

credit, drain of specie, bankruptcy and confusion of the currency; and

this was to be done at the time the country entered into a war with

the only Power whose influence could shake the Union to its foundation.

Madison stood aloof, and left on Gallatin the burden of the struggle;

but Gallatin’s energies and influence could do little with the Eleventh

Congress. He was strongest in the House; but there the debate, after

many speeches, ended, January 24, by a vote of sixty-five to sixty-four

in favor of indefinite postponement, and by common consent all parties

waited for the Senate to decide. The omen was not happy for the

Treasury.

Gallatin had at last found a capable senator to support him. The

political fortunes of William Henry Crawford, which ended only at the

threshold of the White House, drew no small part of their growth from

his courageous defence of the Treasury during these chaotic years.

Crawford showed the faults of a strong nature,--he was overbearing,

high-tempered, and his ambition did not spurn what his enemies called

intrigue; but he possessed the courage of Henry Clay, with more than

Clay’s intelligence, though far less than his charm. Crawford was never

weak, rarely oratorical; and if he was ever emotional he reserved his

emotion for other places than the Senate. “One man at last appeared

who filled my expectations,” wrote Gallatin many years afterward

to an old and intimate friend.[270] “This was Mr. Crawford, who

united to a powerful mind a most correct judgment and an inflexible

integrity,--which last quality, not sufficiently tempered by indulgence

and civility, has prevented his acquiring general popularity.” February

5 he introduced into the Senate a bill continuing the old Bank charter

for twenty years on certain conditions; and February 11 he supported

the bill in a speech remarkable for the severity of its truths. He

began by challenging the Constitution itself:--

“Upon the most thorough examination [of the Constitution] I

am induced to believe that many of the various constructions

given to it are the result of a belief that it is absolutely

perfect. It has become so extremely fashionable to eulogize

this Constitution, whether the object of the eulogist is the

extension or contraction of the powers of the government, that

whenever its eulogium is pronounced I feel an involuntary

apprehension of mischief.”

Upon the party theory that Congress could exercise no implied

power, and therefore could not charter a corporation, Crawford fell

energetically, until he came in contact with the instructions of State

legislatures, which he swept out of his path with actual contempt:--

“What is the inducement with these great States to put down

the Bank of the United States? Their avarice combined with

their love of domination!... The great commercial States are to

monopolize the benefits which are to arise from the deposits of

your public money. The suppression of this Bank will benefit

none of the interior or smaller States in which there is little

or no revenue collected. As the whole benefit is to be engrossed

by three or four of the great Atlantic States, so the whole of

the power which the dissolution of this Bank will take from the

national government will be exclusively monopolized by the same

States.”

Under Gallatin’s teaching, Crawford bade fair to make himself, what

the South so greatly needed, a statesman who understood its interests;

but he was far in advance of his people. The society from which he

sprang was more correctly represented by Giles, who answered him in

the manner for which the Virginia senator had acquired unpleasant

notoriety. February 14 John Randolph, who with all his faults was not

so factious as to join in the scheme of the State banks, wrote to his

friend Nicholson:[271] “Giles made this morning the most unintelligible

speech on the Bank of the United States that I ever heard.” Never had

Giles taken more trouble to be judicial, candid, and temperate; no one

could have admitted with more impartiality the force of his opponent’s

arguments; but his instincts, stronger than his logic, compelled him to

vote against the Bank. The conclusion was as certain as the process was

vague.

Henry Clay, who followed on the same side, ironically complimented

the Virginia senator, who had “certainly demonstrated to the

satisfaction of all who heard him both that it was constitutional and

unconstitutional, highly proper and improper, to prolong the charter

of the Bank;” but Clay’s irony was as unfortunate as Giles’s logic. The

sarcasm thrown at Giles recoiled on Clay himself, for he passed the

rest of his life in contradicting and repenting the speech he made at

this moment, in which he took ground against the power of Congress to

create corporations. “The power to charter companies is not specified

in the grant, and, I contend, is of a nature not transferable by mere

implication. It is one of the most exalted attributes of sovereignty.”

The legislation of twenty years which enforced the opposite opinion

he swept aside in his peculiar manner. “This doctrine of precedents,

applied to the legislature, appears to me to be fraught with the most

mischievous consequences.” With more than his ordinary self-confidence,

he affirmed that the Treasury could be as well conducted without as

with the Bank; and he closed with a burst of rhetoric hardly to be

paralleled in his oratory, by holding the Bank responsible for not

preventing Great Britain from attacking the “Chesapeake,” impressing

American seamen, and issuing the Orders in Council.

Clay’s excuse for extravagances like these was neither his youth nor

his ignorance of affairs nor his obedience to instructions, nor yet a

certain want of tact which made him through life the victim of needless

mistakes, but was rather the simple repentance with which, within five

years, he threw himself on the mercy of the public, admitting that had

he foreseen the effect of his course he would have acted in a very

different way.[272] Even for Giles some apology might be made, for no

one could deny that consistency required him to vote as he did, and he

could appeal to the record in his defence. The worst offender was not

Giles or Clay, but Samuel Smith.

When Crawford flung so freely his charges of avarice and ambition

about the Senate chamber, he had Samuel Smith directly in his eye; for

Smith’s action was avowedly controlled by his interests, and since his

speech on Macon’s bill his attitude toward public measures was better

understood than before. No one could conceive Smith to be influenced by

conscientious scruples about implied powers, but many persons besides

Madison and Gallatin believed him to be selfish and grasping. Baltimore

favored State banks, and Smith lent his reputation as a business man to

the service of local politics and interests, except so far as in doing

this he aimed at the overthrow of Gallatin. He gave what amounted to a

pledge of his character as a merchant to the assertion that the State,

banks were better, safer, and more efficient agencies for the Treasury

than the Bank of the United States could possibly be. In making

the speech which advanced these doctrines, he threw out an express

challenge to Gallatin. “The secretary is considered by his friends a

very great man in fiscal operations; in commercial matters I may be

permitted to have opinions of my own.” As a commercial authority he

asserted that government had much greater control over the State banks

than over the United States Bank; that more confidence could be put

in the security of the State banks than in that of the National Bank;

that they could more easily effect the necessary exchanges; that they

were as prudently conducted; that the National Bank did not act as a

check upon them, but they acted as a check upon it; that the ordinary

and extraordinary business of the Treasury could be as effectually

and securely done by the State banks; and that the liquidation of

the United States Bank would “be remembered nine days and not much

longer.” When five years afterward the fallacy of these opinions became

too notorious for question, Smith did not, like Clay, throw himself

on the justice of his country or admit his errors, but he voted to

re-establish the Bank in a far more extensive form, and took the ground

that it was the only means of repairing mistakes which he had been a

principal agent in making.

The other speeches made in this debate, although quite equal in

ability to these, carried less political weight, for they implied less

factiousness. One remained, which excited no small curiosity and some

amusement.

When the Senate, February 20, divided on the motion to strike out the

enacting clause, seventeen senators voted for the Bank and seventeen

voted against it. Nine Northern senators voted in its favor, including

seven of the ten from New England, and nine on the opposite side.

Eight Southern senators voted one way, and eight the other. Of the

twenty-seven Republican senators, seventeen voted against the Bank, and

ten in its favor; while the three senators who were supposed to be in

personal opposition to the President--Giles, Samuel Smith, and Michael

Leib--all voted in opposition. The force of personal feeling was

credited with still another vote; for when the result was announced,

the Vice-President, George Clinton, whose attitude was notorious, made

a short address to the effect that “the power to create corporations is

not expressly granted; it is a high attribute of sovereignty, and in

its nature not accessorial or derivative by implication, but primary

and independent.” On this ground he threw his casting vote against the

bill.

So perished the first Bank of the United States; and with its

destruction the Federalist crisis, so long threatened, began at last to

throw its shadow over the government.

History of the United States of America, Volume 5 (of 9) · 第 15 / 19 章