This dinner was the most delightful of occasions. Dorothy was in
brilliant spirits. And Mrs. Clayton shared in her daughter's happiness.
The colored servants, all slaves, affectionate and interested,
manifested their joy in all sorts of lively and profuse attentions. I
could hear them laughing in the kitchen. Mammy, the old cook, was
singing; Jenny, the maid, came in and out of the dining room with
dancing eyes, which she cast upon me, and scarcely less upon Douglas,
who was talking in his usual brilliant way. It was pleasing to me to
hear Mrs. Clayton agree with him about so many things. She was disturbed
by the slavery agitation. She feared for the peace of the Southern
States. She dreaded a negro rebellion. She commented upon the fact that
even the domestic slaves sometimes sulked or slacked; and that this was
due to the talk of the Abolitionists. It was hard enough to keep paid
laborers in good discipline; how much easier to encourage the negroes to
inattention to duty by attacks upon the system of slavery. But after
all, what was to be done?
Douglas referred to Calhoun's attempt to exclude abolition writings from
the mails. He referred to this without approving of it. For Calhoun had
conceded the lack of power in the Federal government to interfere with
the freedom of the press; but he contended that the states as sovereign
powers could prevent the distribution of such literature within their
borders. Everywhere it seemed to me the slavery question divided reason
and thinking against themselves and brought great minds into absurdity.
Douglas wanted the slavery agitation to cease, but on the other hand he
did not wish to interfere with the freedom of speech and of the press.
Mrs. Clayton now recalled Harriet Martineau's visit to America of some
eight years before. She had read _Society in America_ and _Retrospect of
Western Travel_. Did I know that Miss Martineau had stopped in Chicago
and had described Chicago as it was then?
Douglas returned to the subject of the Abolitionists apropos of this,
because Miss Martineau had made herself much disliked by siding with
them. He began to talk of Horace Greeley who had helped the humbug Whigs
into power in 1840 by his publication, _The Log Cabin_. It was now
merged in the weekly _Tribune_, in which all sorts of vagaries were
exploited: Fourierism, spiritualism, opposition to divorce and the
theater, total abstinence, abolitionism, opposition to the annexation of
Texas. Douglas referred to a certain Robert Owen who had thought out a
panacea for poverty, who had founded an ideal community at New Harmony,
Indiana, which had proven to be not ideal and had failed. Then there was
a certain James Russell Lowell who was writing abolition poems and
articles for the Pennsylvania _Freeman_ and for the _Anti-Slavery
Standard_. Douglas classed all these agitators and dreamers together in
his usual satirical way. The ponderable move of national interests would
crush their squeaks. Here he made one of the most humorous
classifications, separating Democrats and nation builders from the
ragged and motley hordes of Fourierists, Spiritualists, Abolitionists,
loco-focoes, barn-burners, anti-Masonics, Know-nothings, and Whigs. He
was inclined to think that the infidel belonged with these hybrid
breeds. Though he did not speak of God and had never joined any church,
something of a matter-of-fact Deism was subsumed in his practical
attitude. The Democratic party stood alone against these disorderly
elements. Nationalism and the rule of the people were his lodestars. He
was the son of Jackson in the principle of no disunion, and he was the
son of Jefferson in the principle of popular sovereignty.
The talk turned to Mr. Polk. As he was a resident of Nashville, Mrs.
Clayton, on that ground as well as for political agreement, was heartily
devoted to him. These two talked of Mr. Polk's record as a Congressman
from Tennessee and later as Governor of the state. "Well," said Douglas,
"he is sound on the bank, he is against the tariff, he is in favor of
annexing Texas and settling the matter of Oregon. As usual the Whigs are
vacillating, because their leader, Mr. Clay, is himself vacillating."
What had all this to do with Dorothy and me? We had happier things of
which to think. We could commune with each other undisturbed while
Douglas and Mrs. Clayton settled Texas and Oregon.
The meal was over and Douglas arose to depart. As I intended to marry
Dorothy before leaving Nashville, if she would consent to do so, I was
wondering what I should do about not returning to Chicago with Douglas.
Accordingly I asked him if I could see him the next morning. He fixed
the hour at ten o'clock, saying that a boat left for St. Louis at noon.
With plans thus vaguely left, so far as they affected both of us, he
departed. Mrs. Clayton said: "Reverdy has told me so much of Douglas.
Now I have seen him, and he is all and more than I was led to believe."
When she left the room I asked Dorothy if we could not be married the
next day. Well, but she had much to do to get ready; put the wedding off
until December, or later. "You can get everything you want in Chicago,"
I persisted, "and I want to take you back with me." Dorothy had not
talked this matter over with her mother. She was not sure that her
mother could be won to a plan so hasty. "Let's see her," I said.
For the whole evening we discussed the subject. Since Mrs. Clayton's
household would be broken up by Dorothy's departure, she had to readjust
her life. She was thinking something of making a visit of some months in
North Carolina. She could not make ready for that immediately. Why not
come to Chicago with us, make her home with us? She could bring the
colored servants. We talked until one o'clock. Then Mrs. Clayton advised
a night's rest on the matter.