CHAPTER X

THE POLITICS OF NULLIFICATION

I

Callers at the Hermitage about the first of October were surprised to

find Jackson’s thoughts remote from the election. Instead of a jubilant

politician, they found an old man frothing with fury over the news from

South Carolina that the Nullifiers had won a majority of seats in the

Legislature and were arranging for an early summoning of a Nullification

Convention. His indignation was so intense that his friends were shocked

at the ferocity of his mood. The crisis had not crept upon him unaware.

With keen, far-seeing eyes he had watched its advance, hoping that

something would intervene to divert his native State from its mad

course, but determined, if the issue came, to crush it with an iron

hand. His hatred of Calhoun had, by this time, become an obsession, and

when he threatened to “hang every leader ... of that infatuated people,

sir, by martial law, irrespective of his name, or political or social

position,” there was no doubt as to whom he referred.[534] Taking no

further interest in the election, he put the campaign behind him and

hastened to the capital. Blair, the politician always, hurried to the

White House with some papers relating to the election. After a hasty and

perfunctory glance, Jackson returned them to the editor, with a “Thank

you, sir,” and launched into a denunciation of the Nullifiers. The date

set for the Nullification Convention had just reached him. Even Blair,

accustomed to his fits of temper, was startled. He was in the presence

of a Jackson he had never seen or known before. “The lines in his face

were hard drawn, his tones were full of wrath and resentment.... Any

one would have thought he was planning another great battle.”[535] Even

the announcement of victory at the polls scarcely interested him. Blair

and Kendall called with a table showing the electoral vote. Glancing at

it indifferently for a moment, his face brightened. “The best thing

about this, gentlemen, is that it strengthens my hands in this trouble.”

Such was the spirit with which Andrew Jackson faced the gravest crisis

the Nation had yet known.

Beginning with an intensely nationalistic spirit,[536] South Carolina

commenced to veer about with the tariff of 1816, and every succeeding

tariff measure had been a provocation. Two years before Jackson’s

inauguration, the “Brutus” articles on the “Usurpations of the Federal

Government,” eloquent, fiery, defiant of the “Monster of the North,” had

created a profound impression, commanding the adherence of McDuffie, the

Mirabeau of the disaffected, Hamilton, Preston, and Chancellor William

Harper, described by Houston as “scarcely inferior to Calhoun as an

exponent of meta-physical doctrines.”[537] The principles of “Brutus”

only awaited the authoritative sanction of Calhoun to place upon them

the stamp of the State’s approval.

The tariff of 1828 was the last straw, and sedition was openly talked by

the greater part of the South Carolina congressional delegation at the

home of Senator Hayne. One week later, Calhoun, at his home at Fort

Hill, finished his “Exposition,” enunciating the principles of

Nullification, which the committee of seven of the State Legislature

presented as its own. During the summer, politicians made numerous

pilgrimages to Fort Hill for conferences, but not the scratch of a pen

remains to indicate the character of the discussions. Calhoun was still

“under cover.” He was about to enter upon his second term in the

Vice-Presidency, and his friends were looking forward to the Presidency

in 1832. The world was to wait awhile for the openly avowed views of the

Master.

With the publication of the “Exposition,” the battle royal began,

Cavalier against Cavalier, the Union cause brilliantly led by the

elegant Joel R. Poinsett. In the early stages of the fight the

Nullifiers did not scruple to represent Jackson as friendly to their

cause. “I had supposed,” wrote Jackson, in reply to a letter from

Poinsett, “that every one acquainted with me knew that I was opposed to

the Nullifying doctrine, and my toast at the Jefferson dinner was

sufficient evidence of that fact.”[538] Having no reason, after that, to

doubt Jackson’s position, the Unionists invited Jackson to attend one of

their public dinners, and he sent a letter settling beyond all

possibility of dispute his position on Nullification. The Nullifiers,

dining at a rival banquet, and learning of the reading of the Jackson

letter, reminded the writer that “old Waxhaw still stands where Jackson

left it, and the old stock of ’76 has not run out.” After that the drama

hurried to a climax. The tariff of 1832 was but oil on the flames. The

fight was carried to the polls and Nullification won by a majority of

6000 out of 40,000 votes cast.

The most portentous feature of the campaign was the appearance in August

of Calhoun’s famous letter to Hamilton, decisively accepting as his own,

and urging upon his people, the doctrine of Nullification. It was

intended and timed to serve the purposes of the campaign. Unhappily

Calhoun must ever remain more or less a steel engraving. His private

life was carefully screened. Jefferson prowling among the brickmasons at

the University, Jackson with his clay pipe on the veranda of the

Hermitage, Webster among his cattle at Marshfield, Clay meditating

speeches under the trees at Ashland, are possible of contact by future

generations, but Calhoun at Fort Hill seems hopelessly remote and cannot

be visualized. He stalks upon the stage, a dramatic and impressive

figure, and plays his public part, but no one is admitted to the

dressing-room. Thus all we know of the occasion of the preparation of

the famous letter, which became the Magna Carta of the Nullifiers, is

told in the letter itself.[539] The events of that summer and early

autumn were intimately known to Jackson as he walked the grounds of the

Hermitage, and lingered mournfully about the tomb of his beloved Rachel.

In the spring of 1830 the brilliant Poinsett, fresh from his mission to

Mexico, had been shocked, on his return to the drawing-rooms of

Charleston, to find sedition poured with the tea, and had hurried to

Washington to be closeted with Jackson at the White House. Before he

emerged, he had been designated by the President as his personal

ambassador in South Carolina,[540] and after calling upon Adams, in

retirement, to tell him of his hopes and fears,[541] he made all haste

home to combat, inch by inch, the growing madness, and prepared, if need

be, to die with a musket in his hands. During the intervening three

years his confidential reports had kept Jackson in close touch with all

the movements of the enemy, and the grim old warrior, reëntering the

White House on his return from Tennessee, entertained no illusions as to

what he faced.

Three days after Jackson reached Washington, the South Carolina

Legislature fixed November 3d as the date for the Nullification

Convention. Silently, but sternly, soldier-wise, the President was

clearing the decks for action. The day he left the Hermitage the

Collector of Customs in Charleston received instructions as to his

course; on reaching the capital, the commander in charge of troops there

was warned of possible attempts to seize the forts; to his apprehensive

friends he was sending reassuring messages. “I am well advised as to

the views and proceedings of the leading Nullifiers,” he wrote Hamilton

on November 2d. “We are wide awake here. THE UNION WILL BE PRESERVED;

REST ASSURED OF THAT.”[542] Five days later, Cass was ordering

additional troops to Fort Moultrie, and Jackson was dispatching a secret

emissary to Charleston, with instructions to communicate with Poinsett,

and to report upon the conditions of the forts and the lengths to which

the Nullifiers might go.[543] The day preceding the meeting of the

Nullification Convention, Cass ordered General Scott to Charleston, with

minute instructions.[544] With Scott hurrying to South Carolina, the

convention met, the Nullification Ordinance was passed, and February 1st

was set as the day for it to go into operation. Three days after the

convention adjourned, the Legislature met and passed laws to put the

ordinance into effect. The Unionist Convention immediately met,

denounced Nullification, and began to organize their forces for a

possible armed conflict.

Meanwhile Scott had performed his mission with a discretion and sound

judgment which called forth the commendation of Jackson.[545] Five days

before Congress met, five thousand stand of muskets with equipment had

been ordered to Castle Pinckney, and a sloop of war with smaller vessels

were on their way to Charleston Harbor.[546] “The Union must be

preserved, and its laws duly executed, but BY PROPER MEANS,” wrote the

President to Poinsett.

Thus, in this real crisis, the “law,” the “Constitution,” and “public

opinion” were uppermost in the mind of the man generally described as

reckless in the use of power. Long after the event, but while the

contest was still on, he wrote to Poinsett of his regret at the failure

of the Unionist Convention to memorialize Congress “to extend to you the

guarantees of the Constitution, of a republican form of government,

stating the actual despotism which now controls the State.” This, he

explained, “would have placed your situation before the whole nation,

and filled the heart of every true lover of his country and its

liberties with indignation.”[547] While at work on his Proclamation, he

wrote Hamilton in New York, urging that public opinion assert itself in

an unmistakable manner. “The crisis must be, and AS FAR AS MY

CONSTITUTIONAL AND LEGAL POWERS AUTHORIZE, will be, met with energy and

firmness. HENCE THE PROPRIETY OF THE PUBLIC VOICE BEING HEARD;--AND IT

OUGHT NOW TO BE SPOKEN IN A VOICE OF THUNDER.”[548] Thus, when the gavel

fell on the opening of the Congress, Jackson had the situation well in

hand, had perfected his plans for vigorous action within the limits of

the Constitution and the laws, but still hoped, through the pressure of

public opinion and the returning good sense of the Carolinians, it would

be unnecessary to resort to force.

II

On the opening day of the Congress the great Carolinian was not in his

Senate seat, to which he had been immediately elected on his resignation

from the Vice-Presidency, but public interest centered in it,

nevertheless. The Jackson Message was awaited with keen anxiety. In its

recommendation of a reduction of the tariff was easily recognized a

conciliatory gesture toward the South Carolinians. Even his discussion

of the crisis was temperate and unprovocative. No one listening to the

Message could have had the slightest notion of what was taking place at

that very hour in Jackson’s workroom in the White House.

Even before the Congress met, Edward Livingston was at work preparing

the Proclamation which was to thrill the country like a bugle blast,

perpetuate the memory of Jackson, and reflect glory on himself. It was

no mere accident which led to the selection of the Secretary of State

for this task. His views on the integrity and perpetuity of the Union

were intimately known to his chief; and it was a duty upon which

Livingston could enter with all his heart. But the first draft of the

Proclamation was written by Jackson in a frenzy of composition, so

hurriedly that he scattered the pages over the table to let them dry.

The general tenor of the document was therefore his. If the wording was

Livingston’s, the document breathed the soul of Andrew Jackson. During

the period of its preparation, Jackson was in constant touch. He was

thinking of nothing else. Thus, on the day his Message was read to

Congress, the iron man was meditating his appeal to public opinion. It

was almost midnight. In his room in the southeast corner of the mansion,

he sat before the fireplace smoking his pipe--thinking. Bitter as he was

against Calhoun and the leaders whom he felt had seduced the people of

his native State, he felt an affection for the confused masses who had

been deluded; and, while prepared, if need be, to strike with the

military arm of the Government, he passionately hoped that this would

not become necessary. Going over to the table on which always stood the

picture of his Rachel, and the Bible to which she had been devoted, he

wrote a conclusion to the Proclamation in the nature of a touching

appeal to the patriotic memories of the South Carolinians. Then he wrote

to Livingston: “I submit the above as the conclusion of the Proclamation

for your amendment and revision. Let it receive your best flight of

eloquence, to strike to the heart, and speak to the feelings of my

deluded countrymen of South Carolina.”

Three days later, the night again found Jackson obsessed with the

preparation of the Proclamation. Livingston, in his writing, was sending

it as he proceeded to the White House, where Major Donelson, the private

secretary, was engaged in copying it for the printer. At four o’clock in

the afternoon the Secretary of State had sent a number of sheets, and

Donelson had finished copying and was waiting for more. Jackson was

impatient of the delay. The Message having gone forth, he thought it

important that it should be followed immediately by the Proclamation for

the effect on South Carolina. Again he wrote to Livingston explaining

the reason for his anxiety. The Secretary would therefore please send

over at once, “sealed, by the bearer,” such sheets as were completed,

and the harassed Livingston complied. Under these conditions of pressure

the immortal document was written.[549]

On the day Jackson gave this Proclamation to the Nation he made his last

appeal. A letter written to Poinsett that day discloses a determination

to move sternly and unhesitatingly to what he conceived to be his solemn

duty. This letter breathed the spirit of the battle-field. The act of

the Nullifiers was sheer treason. He had been assured that he would be

sustained by Congress. “I will meet it [treason] at the threshold, and

have the leaders arrested and arraigned for treason,” he wrote. He was

only waiting for the Acts of the Legislature “to make a communication to

Congress, ask the means necessary to carry my Proclamation into complete

effect, and by an exemplary punishment of those leaders for treason so

unprovoked, put down this rebellion, and strengthen our Government both

at home and abroad.” The Unionists of South Carolina need not fear. In

forty days he could have 50,000 men in the State, in forty more another

50,000. “How impotent,” he wrote, “the threats of resistance with only a

population of 250,000 whites, and nearly double that in blacks, with our

ships in the port to aid in the execution of the laws!”[550]

Thus hoping that necessity would not compel him to send armed forces,

determined to meet the issue, however, as it might present itself,

careful to observe all the constitutional and legal limitations of his

power, enraged to fury against the leaders and eager to lay his hands on

Calhoun, he gave the country the Proclamation which instantly wiped out

party lines with most, and rallied the patriotic forces of the Union to

his support.

III

At the time of the writing of the Proclamation, Andrew Jackson was

sixty-six, and Edward Livingston sixty-nine years old, but it breathes

the fire, the passion, the enthusiasm, and the eloquence of impetuous

youth. As an oration, it was to be treasured as a masterpiece; as a

public document, it has taken its place alongside the Emancipation

Proclamation as one of the greatest pronouncements of American history.

Its publication appealed to the Unionists of the country like a charge

on the battle-field. To no one did it give keener pleasure than to

Webster, who read it in New Jersey on his way to the capital. In

Philadelphia he met Clay, and a friend of the latter explained Clay’s

plan of concessions to the Nullifiers through a new tariff of gradual

reductions. The martial call of Jackson aroused the fighting blood

within Webster, and Clay’s game of politics repelled him. He hastened to

Washington determined to give his best blows for Jackson and the

Administration.[551]

John Marshall, in gloomy mood, found in the Proclamation the elixir for

his pessimism.[552] Justice Story, despite his deep-seated prejudice,

could not withhold his commendation, coupled with an expression of

strange surprise. “The President’s Proclamation is excellent,” he wrote,

“and contains the true principles of the Constitution; but will he stand

to it? Will he not surrender all to the guidance of Virginia?”[553]

Adams described it as a “blister plaster.”[554] Among all his long-time

political opponents, Clay alone withheld enthusiastic commendation, with

the comment that, “although there are some good things in it, there are

some entirely too ultra for me.” In truth, the man who would “rather be

right than President” seized eagerly upon the President’s patriotic

position to curry favor with the extreme State-Rights men of the South.

Thus we soon enter upon the party phase of the fight. The effect upon

some of Jackson’s State-Rights supporters was one of painful

embarrassment. While the average Virginian had no sympathy with

Nullification, he subscribed to the State-Rights doctrine and to the

right of secession. The very point on which Clay cunningly and

unscrupulously pounced was therefore the one which caused the greatest

consternation among the Administration Democrats of the Old Dominion. It

was to them that Clay was making his appeal. The Virginia Assembly,

which had just unanimously elected W. C. Rives, a Jacksonian, to the

Senate, instantly reversed itself by electing John Tyler, an enemy, to

that body, to succeed Tazewell, who had resigned. W. S. Archer, writing

to Cambreleng in New York, declared that it would be ridiculous to

expect Virginia to endorse the Proclamation,[555] and Governor Floyd,

who had received South Carolina’s vote in the recent election, rejoiced

to find “the poor unworthy dogs, Ritchie, Van Buren & Co.

deserted.”[556] To the momentarily embarrassed Ritchie, his cleverness

pointed a way out. Penning a mild objection to some of the doctrinal

points, he accepted it as primarily a denunciation of Nullification,

and, as such, gave it the support of his great prestige and pen.[557]

Such was the position of many others among the Southern leaders of the

Jackson party, but Ritchie found himself in a minority. John Tyler,

never friendly to Jackson, now seized upon the Proclamation as a

pretext for pushing to the head of the Opposition. Writing heatedly to

Tazewell of the “servility” to party of many Southern statesmen

supporting the President, he drew a gloomy picture of the future. The

Proclamation, he thought, had “swept away all the barriers of the

Constitution,” had established “a consolidated military despotism.” He

“trembled” for South Carolina. “The war cry is up--rely upon it,” he

wrote. “The boast is that the President by stamping like another Pompey

on the earth can raise a hundred thousand men.”[558]

It is significant of Whig hopes, that, when Tyler wrote and Ritchie was

supporting the President, John Hampden Pleasants, the editor of the

“Richmond Whig,” and an intimate of Clay’s, was denouncing the

principles enunciated by Jackson and Livingston.[559] Resolutions were

adopted by the Legislature denouncing both Nullification and the

Proclamation.

Nor was Jackson indifferent to the attitude Virginia might assume. He

planned to isolate South Carolina, and he feared an alliance with

Virginia more than with any other State. Wishing to reach the Virginians

as speedily as possible, he called upon Lewis Cass to prepare a letter

in the form of an appeal to be published in Ritchie’s “Richmond

Enquirer.” Within a few days after the appearance of the Proclamation,

Virginians were reading a letter described by Ritchie as from “one of

the ablest men in the country.” Making no defense of the tariff, but

pointing out the impossibility of the radical changes demanded being

made within the limited time allowed by the Carolina politicians, he

suggested that “Virginia might interpose most efficaciously, and add

another leaf to the wreath which adorns her civic chaplet,” if her

Legislature would appoint a committee to proceed to South Carolina and

“entreat her convention ... to recall its late steps, and at all events

to delay her final action till another trial is made to reduce the

tariff.”[560] This was to lead, a little later, to the adoption of a

similar plan.

Strange as it may now seem, the position of Virginia prevented New York

from endorsing the Proclamation unqualifiedly, through her

Legislature--and thereon hangs a tale of the political cunning of Martin

Van Buren. In the Empire State the Proclamation had been received with

enthusiasm. Even so bitter a partisan as Philip Hone poured forth his

admiration and commendation on the pages of his diary. “As a

composition, it is splendid,” he wrote, “and will take its place in the

archives of our country, and dwell in the memory of our citizens

alongside of the Farewell Address.... I think Jackson’s election may

save the Union. If he is sincere in his Proclamation, he will put down

this rebellion. Mr. Clay, pursuing the same measures, would not have

been equally successful.”[561] We have seen, in Jackson’s letter to

Hamilton, his desire that every agency of publicity should be employed

to focus the sentiment against Nullification. The New York Legislature

being then in session, Hamilton wrote leading men in Albany urging the

passage of a commendatory resolution. In the absence of definite

encouragement, he then wrote Van Buren, his political and personal

friend, suggesting that he bring pressure to bear upon his friends in

the Assembly. The letter was returned, opened, but unanswered, and

Hamilton lost no time in writing of the incident to Jackson, with the

comment that “this unfriendly, nay offensive course, resulted from Van

Buren’s fear of offending the dominant political party in

Virginia.”[562]

That Van Buren was deeply embarrassed by the doctrinal features of the

Proclamation, if not by the possible effect upon his candidacy for the

Presidency and his popularity among the Virginia politicians, has been

admitted and explained by himself.[563] The document was delivered to

him at the home of a friend in Albany as the party was in the act of

going in to dinner. Instantly his practiced eye caught the phrasing that

would arouse the ire of the State-Rights element. The Whigs in Albany

were just as keen, and proceeded, with celerity, to take advantage.

William H. Seward immediately offered a resolution in the State Senate

to the effect that “the President of the United States ... had advanced

the true principles upon which only the Constitution can be maintained

and defended.” With Van Buren on the ground, and with the Democrats in

the majority, the Whigs hoped, not without reason, either to force the

Jacksonians to accept the conclusions of the resolution, or to a

rejection of the endorsement, which would be interpreted as a rupture of

the relations of the President and Vice-President. The Democrats did

neither--they postponed action. It was probably at this juncture that

Van Buren received the letter from Hamilton and returned it unanswered.

Realizing, however, the fatality of non-action, Van Buren prepared a

resolution, together with an elaborate and laborious report, taking

issue with “the history given by the President of the formation of our

Government,” and calculated to satisfy the State-Rights men of Virginia.

These were adopted, and sent to the White House with an explanation.

Just what Jackson thought of it will never be known, for he filed the

letter without a word of comment to his secretary, in whose presence it

was read.[564] Nor was the subject ever mentioned in future

conversations between the two leaders.[565] That a copy was also sent to

Rives and Ritchie in Virginia we may be sure.

Such were the cross-currents of party politics at the time, with Jackson

playing a bold and straight game, thinking solely of the Union, and Clay

and Van Buren, rival candidates for the Presidency, pussyfooting and

conciliating on a vital issue.

Meanwhile what was the effect in South Carolina? Senator Hayne, now

Governor, met the challenge of the President in an able document, bitter

in its defiance, which fired the fighting blood of the Nullifiers.

Preston described it as “a document whose elegance of diction, elaborate

and conclusive argument, just and clear constitutional exposition,

confuted all the show of argument of the President’s Proclamation.”[566]

Outside of Nullification circles, the bitterness of this counterblast

made a deep impression. Adams found it “full of bitter words,” and,

after reading it, sent it to James K. Polk, the Jackson leader in the

House.[567] The Hayne defiance was echoed by the Nullifiers. The

eloquent Preston, addressing a mass meeting in Charleston, declared that

“there are 16,000 back countrymen with arms in their hands and cockades

in their hats, ready to march to our city at a moment’s warning to

defend us.... I will pour down a torrent of volunteers that will sweep

the myrmidons of the tyrant from the soil of Carolina.”[568] But Calhoun

was disappointed with the Proclamation. He had hoped for an intemperate,

ranting denunciation of the Carolinians that would heat their blood and

put them on the march. The sober dignity of the document and its

impressive appeal to the better natures of the people interfered with

his plans.

In the House of Representatives, the Carolinians were seething with

wrath. The impassioned McDuffie, according to Adams, “could not contain

himself,” and declared that “if Congress should approve the principles

of that proclamation, the liberties of the country were gone forever.”

Whereupon Archer rose to suggest that a communication “would very

shortly be received upon which the gentleman would have an opportunity

to express his opinion without restraint.”[569]

IV

The excitement over the Proclamation found Calhoun remote from the

turmoil and in the midst of his family at Fort Hill. There he lingered

to enjoy the Christmas festivities, and the day following he started to

Washington to take his place in the Senate. There was much drama in this

winter journey to the capital. One of his biographers has compared it to

“that of Luther to attend the diet of Worms.”[570] The public was

convinced of the temper of Jackson and realized the possibilities when

the lion in him was aroused. To some Calhoun’s journey suggested a death

march. Looked upon as the prime mover, the instigator, the leader of the

seditious movement, many thought that he would be arrested on the charge

of treason before he crossed the Virginia border. Interest in his

progress was intense, and even among those who abhorred the new doctrine

there was no little sympathy for the grim, impeccably pure statesman who

had the courage to beard the lion in his den. New Year’s Day found him

at Raleigh, where he rested. Here crowds gathered to welcome, or merely

to observe him, and a public dinner was offered him by his admirers.

This he politely declined. There was something of grandeur in the

dignity of his demeanor. As he proceeded from town to town, his approach

was announced and elaborate preparations were made for his reception,

for both North Carolina and Virginia were devoted to State Rights, and

not a few of their citizens sympathized with the Carolina doctrine, and

looked upon secession as an inevitable result of the crisis. Unlike the

case of Burr, nothing personally sinister clung to him. His worst

enemies conceded his honesty, and this was in his favor. Mrs. Bayard

Smith, echoing the sentiment of the Washington drawing-rooms, found

herself wondering, on Christmas Day, if all the “high soarings” of “one

of the noblest and most generous spirits” were to end “in

disappointment or humiliation or in blood.”[571] That this friendly

atmosphere, through which he moved, was reassuring to Calhoun, we may

assume from his letter to his son on reaching the capital. Here he found

“things better than anticipated” and that it was beginning to be “felt

that we must succeed.”

On the day he took the oath and his seat in the Senate, the little

semi-circular chamber was crowded with friends and foes, drawn by the

dramatic features of the situation. Tall, erect, his face sternly set,

his iron-gray hair brushed back, he walked into the chamber over which

he had presided, slowly and with a deliberation which seemed as studied

as that of an actor upon the stage. When he took his seat, some Senators

hastened to clasp his hand, but it was noticed that others, who had

formerly been friendly, held back, deterred perhaps by the frown of the

White House. At length the great scene--the taking of the oath. This he

did in a reverential manner, and his voice was serious and solemn when

he swore to support the Constitution which Jackson contended he had

flagrantly violated.[572] The leader of Nullification was in his seat.

V

The day after Calhoun started on his journey to the capital, the

Verplanck Tariff Bill, sanctioned by the Administration, was introduced

in the House. This measure, it was thought, might go a long way toward

preventing any accession to the ranks of the Nullifiers in that it went

far toward meeting the objections to the revenue laws. It was a rather

radical measure, providing for the immediate reduction of numerous

duties, with further reductions a year later. The protection forces

rallied at once for its defeat. Through all the parliamentary devices of

delay, Jackson, keenly watching developments through the reports of

Lewis and Donelson, was convinced that the Nullifiers were as much

interested in its defeat as the protectionists. An “insulting and

irritating speech” of Wilde of Georgia he thought “instigated by the

Nullies, who wish no accommodation of the tariff.”[573] Long before it

could be brought to a vote, it had been hammered beyond recognition by

amendments and Jackson had lost interest in the reduction of the tariff,

rather preferring first to whip Nullification without any preliminary

concessions.

Meanwhile Jackson was awaiting developments before submitting his

Message to Congress asking additional powers to put down the heresy.

Through the latter part of December and the early part of January, Hayne

was making open preparations for an armed resistance. Poinsett,

reporting constantly, had abandoned hope of “putting down Nullification

by moral force,” and hoped that the “vain blustering of these mad-men”

would not influence Congress on the tariff, as “such a concession would

confirm the power and popularity of the Nullifiers.”[574] He was anxious

for the contest. “Is not raising, embodying, and marching men to oppose

the laws of the United States an overt act of treason?” he wrote the

Unionist Congressman from Charleston, who still hoped that the crisis

could be passed without recourse to the Federal army.[575] Thus, early

in January, Poinsett was anxious to have Federal troops sent into the

State, while other Unionists still held back. In this controversy

Jackson agreed with the conservatives that the Unionists of the State

should first have an opportunity to demonstrate their ability to handle

the situation.

On January 16th, Archer’s promise to McDuffie was fulfilled, when

Jackson laid all the facts relative to the crisis before Congress with a

request for authority to abolish or alter certain ports of entry, and to

use the army to protect the officers in the discharge of their duties.

He also asked for the revival of the sixth section of the Act of March

3, 1815, and for a provision for the removal to the United States

Circuit Court, without copy of the record, of any suit brought in the

State courts against any individual for an act performed under the laws

of the United States. A grim touch was added in the request for

authorization for marshals to make provision for keeping prisoners.

Very late on the night of the day the Message was submitted, Jackson,

worn out and wretched from a bad cold, sat in his room writing to

Poinsett. The Message had been read. Calhoun, “agitated and confused,”

had “let off a little of his ire” against the President, and John

Forsyth had replied “with great dignity and firmness.” That night it

seemed to Jackson that Calhoun had been placed “between Scylla and

Charybdis,” and was “reckless.” The uncertainty of negotiations had

passed, and the hour for action--the happy hour for Jackson--had struck.

The conferences with Drayton were over. Poinsett, at the front, was now

the man of the hour. The moment the Nullifiers were “in hostile array,”

this fact was to be certified to Jackson by the attorney for the

district, or the judge, and he would “forthwith order the leaders

arrested and prosecuted.” And he added in his note to Poinsett: “We will

strike at the head and demolish the monster Nullification and secession

at the threshold by the power of the law.”[576]

Thus, that night, the fingers of Andrew Jackson were itching for the

throat of John C. Calhoun.

Five days later, Senator Wilkins, of the Judiciary Committee, presented

the famous “Force Bill,” and one of the most violent debates in history

began. On the following day, Calhoun submitted a set of resolutions

setting forth his views of the constitutional question involved, in the

hope of thereby directing the debate into that channel. But the Senate

was in no temper for such a discussion and pushed forward to the debate

on the main and pressing question. The Calhoun resolutions were speedily

tabled. Wilkins led off in the debate, and others followed, one on the

heels of the other, until at length John Tyler took the floor to deliver

the speech which, after that of Calhoun, was the most forceful attack to

be made upon the measure. Reading his speech to-day one wonders how the

Republic outlived the Jackson Administrations. Dire calamity was

predicted as a result of his every action. He saw Carolinians again

driven “into the morasses where Marion and Sumter found refuge,” with

their cities and towns leveled to the dust, and their daughters clothed

in mourning, with “helpless orphans” made of their “rising sons.” But,

he continued, “I will not despair. Rome had her Curtius, Sparta her

Leonidas, and Athens her band of devoted patriots; and shall it be said

that the American Senate contains not one man who will step forward to

rescue his country in this, her moment of peril? Although that man may

never wear an earthly crown or sway an earthly scepter, eternal fame

shall weave an evergreen around his brow, and his name shall rank with

the proudest patriots of the proudest climes.”

With the closing sentence, Tyler turned significantly to Henry Clay, who

sat an interested spectator. Throughout this memorable debate he was to

remain mute. The great orator and party leader was making sympathetic

gestures to the extreme State-Rights men of the South. Even at this

time, and knowing Tyler’s views, he was writing to his friend, Francis

Brooke: “Will he [Tyler] be reëlected? We feel here some solicitude on

that point, being convinced that under all circumstances, he would be

far preferable to any person that could be sent.”[577] And such was his

partisan hate of Jackson that the second leader of the party Opposition,

John M. Clayton, in speaking in support of the Force Bill, could not

refrain from an exhibition of boorishness and bigotry in coupling his

advocacy of the Jackson measure with a sneer at Jackson.

“My support of the measure,” he said, “is predicated on no servile

submission to any Executive mandate, on no implicit and unlimited faith

in any man.... I will not be deterred from the adoption of this measure

by any consideration of the source from which it has emanated.”

Thus did Clayton contribute to the pleasure of the Nullifiers by the

denunciation of the man who stood in their way, and in sneering at those

Southern Democrats who stood squarely behind Jackson despite the gibes

of the Calhoun followers that they were yielding a servile submission.

Meanwhile Jackson’s supporters were giving the measure their undivided

support, and none of them more heartily, and none so ably, as Senators

from the South. Senator Felix Grundy of Tennessee, able lawyer, seasoned

statesman, resourceful parliamentarian, took charge of the fight on the

floor. Rives of Virginia, learned constitutional lawyer, scholarly,

polished, heroically sacrificed a seat in the Senate to stand by the

Union. And Forsyth of Georgia, “the greatest debater of his time,”

affected to look upon the Nullification doctrine as “the double

distilled essence of nonsense.”

As the fight developed and the certainty of defeat grew upon the

Nullifiers, efforts were made to gain time, with the Administration

forces pressing for action. Senator Willie Mangum of North Carolina,

brilliant, and sacrificing a great career to drink, on securing the

floor asked for an adjournment on the ground of indisposition.

Ordinarily the request would have been granted. But Forsyth, Grundy, and

Wilkins were instantly on their feet with objections. Calhoun, pointing

out that Mangum was the only member of the Judiciary Committee opposed

to the bill, begged that he be given an opportunity to explain his

position, only to be told, none too graciously, by Wilkins, that he had

no doubt of Mangum’s capacity to speak then. When Calhoun reminded him

of Mangum’s plea of indisposition, he was ignored. At this juncture,

Webster, who had been silent, suggested that Mangum could easily speak

on another day and the debate proceed. Whereupon Senator King of Alabama

made a transparent effort to draw Webster’s speech at once. The New

England orator significantly replied that “the gentleman from

Massachusetts fully understands the gentleman from Alabama; but he has

no disposition to address the Senate at present, nor, under existing

circumstances, at any other time, on the subject of this bill.” This was

taken as indicating Webster’s conviction that up to that time the

advocates of the bill needed no reënforcements, and that he would

reserve himself for Calhoun.

It was during these proceedings that an exchange occurred between

Poindexter and Grundy which illustrates the hair-trigger conditions in

Carolina. A rumor had just spread through the chamber that Jackson had

ordered a portion of the fleet to occupy Charleston Harbor, and had sent

instructions to the military commander in Charleston, and Poindexter

immediately offered a resolution calling upon the President for

information as to his actions and intentions. Grundy calmly, if

provokingly, suggested that perhaps some very respectable gentlemen of

Charleston had furnished the President with information on which the

secret orders had been issued, and that Poindexter would surely not ask

the names of the gentlemen and all the circumstances of the disclosure.

“All--all--the whole of them!” cried Poindexter.

“But would not such disclosures lead to the immediate shedding of

blood?” Grundy inquired.

“I care not if it does!” shouted the excited Mississippian. “Let us have

the information no matter what the circumstances!”

Grundy smilingly took his seat.

Thus the debate dragged on--the two greatest figures still silent.

VI

Meanwhile, as the debate proceeded, Jackson was watching South Carolina

and making all his preparations. On January 24th, he wrote Poinsett that

the Force Bill debate was about to begin, that he had done his duty, and

if Congress failed to act, and he should be informed of the assemblage

of an armed force, he stood ready for drastic measures.[578] There is

something of the heroic mingled with pathos in the picture this letter

presents of Jackson at this time. It was late at night. The House sat

late. He had not heard since seven o’clock. “My eyes grow dim.”

Two hours later he ordered General Scott to Charleston to repel by force

any attempt to seize the forts.[579] Holding his rage in check,

measuring every step by his constitutional and legal powers, determined

to do nothing rashly to precipitate bloodshed, Jackson held himself in

readiness, as the debate on the Force Bill proceeded, to meet any

eventuality that might arise.[580] But Jackson and the Administration

were not at all satisfied with the progress of the debate. None of the

trio of genius, Clay, Webster, and Calhoun, had yet participated. It

would be too much to expect that Clay would speak on behalf of any

Jackson measure, and it was certain that Calhoun would deliver one of

his characteristically powerful arguments against the bill. There was

just one man strong enough to meet the impact of that argument, and that

was Webster. It was a reasonable hope that he would prominently support

the measure involving the principles he had made his own. Among his

intimates, such as Story, it was expected that he would enter at the

psychological moment, but the great orator kept his own counsels, and

during the early part of the debate was absent from the Senate Chamber

on other engagements. As Calhoun prepared his heavy artillery for

action, the apprehension of Jackson and his supporters increased, and

every effort was made, at first through Webster’s friends, to learn his

intentions.[581] Then, one day, a carriage halted before the lodgings of

Webster, and the tall figure of Livingston emerged and entered the

house. It was not a half-hearted welcome to the Administration camp that

the Secretary of State offered. On the contrary, Webster was earnestly

importuned to take the lead on the floor, and to frame any amendments he

thought necessary.[582] If such importunity was unnecessary, it was none

the less pleasing to the vanity of the orator, and Livingston was able

to carry back to the White House the assurance that when Calhoun spoke

he would be answered by Webster. On the 11th of February, Webster was

ready and waiting.[583] Four days later, abandoning the hope that

Webster might speak first, Calhoun began one of the most powerful

speeches of his career. The Senate Chamber and the galleries were

packed.

As the tall, gaunt figure, with slightly stooped shoulders, rose, the

solemnity of his mien and manner, the fire in the wonderful eyes that

“watched everything and revealed nothing,” suggested, to some, the

conspirator with his back against the wall, to others the austere

patriot battling for the liberties of his country.[584] We need not

concern ourselves with the general tenor of his remarkable argument--a

reiteration and reënforcement of his constitutional views. But the

general spirit of resentment, the passionate hate of Jackson, the

defiance, constitute dramatic features that assist in the sensing of the

atmosphere in which the mighty battle was waged. Almost in the

beginning, in defending his support of the tariff of 1816, and

explaining that he had spoken at the instance of Ingham, the late

Secretary of the Treasury, this spirit flared in an amazing tribute to

that mediocre and unscrupulous politician, and an indirect attack upon

Jackson for dismissing him. As he proceeded, he startled the Senate now

and then by the injection of personalities. Here a contemptuous fling at

Van Buren, there a hint at Mrs. Eaton, and everywhere references to

contemplated “war” and “massacres” and “savages.” “I proclaim it,” he

solemnly declared, “that should this bill pass, and attempt be made to

enforce it, it will be resisted at every hazard--even that of death

itself.” It was two o’clock on the second day of the speech that Calhoun

concluded, with a warning to Southern Senators that should the bill be

enacted all of them would be excluded from the emoluments of the

Government, “which will be reserved for those only who have qualified

themselves, by political prostitution, for admission into the Magdalen

Asylum.”

The moment he sank into his seat, Daniel Webster rose.

The relations between Webster and the Administration leaders after the

visit of Livingston had been intimate and confidential, and the orator

had availed himself of the invitation to make desirable amendments. One

stormy day during this period, the great opponent of the Democratic

Party might have been seen rolling up to the Capitol in the White House

carriage. On the floor, when he rose, were many of the Administration

leaders, including Lewis, ready to hasten the news of the speech and its

reception to the White House, where Jackson was anxiously, but

confidently, waiting. It was late in the evening when the orator

concluded his masterful argument on the proposition that “the

Constitution is not a compact between sovereign States.” Brushing aside

the personalities, scarcely referring to any speech made during the

debate, he took the resolutions Calhoun had submitted as embodying his

views, and based his argument upon these. Speaking with his accustomed

gravity, with more than his usual earnestness, without passion or

personal feeling, he took up the sophistries of the Nullification school

and crushed them, one by one. Nullification was revolution, and success

meant the destruction of the Republic, chaos, the end of American

liberty. To prevent these evils was the duty of the National authority;

and the Force Bill was necessary for their prevention.

Long before he closed, the lights had been lit in the little Senate

Chamber where the crowd was densely packed. With his conclusion the

galleries rose and cheered, and Poindexter, outraged at the exhibition

of feeling, indignantly demanded an immediate adjournment. The great

word had been spoken in the Senate--the Proclamation reiterated on the

floor. No one was more delighted with Webster’s triumph than Jackson.

“Mr. Webster replied to Mr. Calhoun yesterday,” he wrote Poinsett, “and,

it is said, demolished him. It is believed by more than one that Mr.

Calhoun is in a state of dementation--his speech was a perfect failure;

and Mr. Webster handled him as a child.”[585]

Thus Webster entered upon more intimate relations with the White House,

with Jackson personally thanking him for a great public service, and

Livingston reiterating expressions of appreciation. The Jackson

Senators, Isaac Hill excepted, joined in the assiduous cultivation of

the orator, and he was invited to strike from a list of applicants for

office the names of all displeasing to himself. Such was the enthusiasm

of the President that overtures were unquestionably made to Webster, as

set forth by Benton,[586] to gain his adherence to the Administration.

It was a crisis in his life and in the politics of the Nation. He was

then closer to Jackson’s views on vital matters than to those of either

Clay or Calhoun. His antipathy to the latter’s doctrines was as

pronounced as that of Jackson; and he had no respect for Clay’s play to

the seditious with his compromise tariff. His ideas were not remote

from those of Livingston. Had he then broken with his old co-workers,

and allied himself with the dominant party, he would have been advanced

immeasurably toward the Presidency. Senator Lodge admits[587] that there

was much truth in Benton’s theory, but reasonably holds that the

coalition would have been wrecked by the inevitable clashing of the

conflicting temperaments.

VII

Meanwhile, with the debate dwindling to an anti-climax, Calhoun and his

friends were not nearly so indifferent to war as they pretended. It was

generally understood that Jackson was ready and eager to strike the

moment an overt act was committed. With Hayne urging caution, some

irresponsible hothead might at any moment hasten the crisis. Then, all

knew, Jackson would place South Carolina under martial law, arrest

Calhoun for treason, and turn him over to the courts for trial. Some of

the latter’s friends began to interest themselves in a compromise tariff

that would open a door of escape. The Whig protectionists, the

Nullifiers, and the Bank were rapidly rushing together to make common

cause against Jackson. Under Clay’s leadership at the beginning of the

session these elements united in electing Duff Green, of the

“Telegraph,” printer to the Senate, and Gales, of the “Intelligencer,”

to the House. Thus, through Clay, the Nullification organ secured a new

lease of life, and flooded the South with circularized appeals for

support. “If the people of the South deserve to be free they will not

permit this press to go down,” Green wrote--and this was known to Clay.

The Bank party looked on approvingly, with John Sargeant writing

enthusiastically to Biddle of the new political alignments. “The new

state of parties,” he wrote, “will be founded upon a combination of the

South, and the leaders of it are friends of the Bank upon principle,

and will be more so from opposition to Jackson.”[588] With this

alignment in mind, John M. Clayton cynically observed to Clay that

“these South Carolinians are acting very badly, but they are good

fellows, and it would be a pity to let Jackson hang them.”[589] When

Representative Letcher of Kentucky, a boisterous partisan of Clay’s,

suggested the compromise plan to his chief, he “received it at first

coolly and doubtfully.”[590] Afterwards Clay reconsidered and broached

the subject to Webster, who, holding the Jackson view, replied that “it

would be yielding great principles to faction; that the time had come to

test the strength of the Constitution and the Government.”[591]

Thereafter Webster was not included in the consultations.

Perhaps the true story of the compromise tariff of 1833 will never be

known. One version credits the initiative to Clayton in calling a

meeting of men primarily interested in the tariff, and only incidentally

in the Nullification crisis, consisting of but half the New England

Senators, and the two from Delaware, with Clay, Webster, and Calhoun all

absent.[592] Many years later John Tyler accepted the responsibility.

According to his version he “waited on Mr. Clay.” They “conversed about

the times.” Clay “saw the danger.” Tyler “appealed to his patriotism,”

and “no man appealed so in vain.” The Virginian referred Clay “to

another man as the only one necessary to consult, and that man was John

C. Calhoun.” It would not only be necessary for Clay to “satisfy his own

party,” but to “reconcile an opposite party by large concessions.” Thus

Clay and Calhoun “met, consulted and agreed.”[593] This differs in some

particulars from the Benton version.[594] Here we have it that Clay

prepared his measure and sent it to Calhoun by Letcher, as the two

negotiators were not, at the time, on speaking terms. Finding some

objectionable features which he thought a personal interview would

persuade the author to eliminate, Calhoun asked Letcher to arrange a

conference, which was held in Clay’s room. The meeting was “cold and

distant.” Clay rose, bowed, and asked Calhoun to be seated, and, to

relieve the embarrassment, Letcher took his departure. Clay refused to

yield.

The story here enters into the melodramatic although there is nothing

impossible about it. Letcher, in another conference, this time with

Jackson, found the grim old warrior hard set against any sort of a

compromise, unwilling to discuss one, and determined to enforce the

laws. The Kentuckian related the conversation to McDuffie; he to

Calhoun. A little later Letcher was awakened from a sound sleep by

Senator Johnston of Louisiana, an intimate friend of Clay, with the

startling story that he had heard authoritatively that Jackson would

admit of no further delay, and was preparing to arrest Calhoun for

treason. It was agreed that the Carolinian should be immediately

notified, and in the darkness of the night Letcher hastened to Calhoun’s

lodgings. As the gaunt statesman sat up in bed, the Johnston story was

told him and “he was evidently disturbed.”[595] That some such incident

occurred is corroborated by Perley Poore,[596] who was an observer of

events in the Washington of that day. Here we have some embellishments.

Calhoun had heard some threats and had sent Letcher to Jackson to

ascertain his intentions. The old man’s eyes had been “lighted by an

unwonted fire,” and he had told the emissary that with the first overt

act, he would try Calhoun for treason and “hang him high as Haman.”

Thereupon Letcher made all haste to Calhoun, who received him sitting up

in bed, with a cloak thrown around him. “There sat Calhoun,” wrote

Perley Poore, “drinking in eagerly every word, and, as Letcher

proceeded, he turned pale as death, and great as he was in intellect,

trembled like an aspen leaf, not from fear or cowardice, but from

consciousness of guilt.”[597] Here we detect the professional journalist

drawing perhaps on his imagination to dramatize the picture.

However, Calhoun, convinced of Jackson’s grim determination, was ready

to welcome a way out short of conflict or utter humiliation, and at the

same time Clay and Clayton were not happy over the situation. The

protective system had brought the country to the very verge of

disintegration. With Nullification crushed by force, conservative public

opinion might demand a complete reversal of the revenue policy and

destroy the “American System.” That Clay at this time was thinking

primarily of the preservation of his protective system, and secondarily

of currying favor with the extreme State-Rights party, including the

Nullifiers, is plainly disclosed in the record. Thus the proposed

combination of the Nullifiers and the protectionists to stay the arm of

Jackson. In this combination no one was more prominent than John M.

Clayton, the brilliant and bibulous, who frankly cared less about saving

the Union than of saving the tariff, and who would “pause long before he

surrendered it [the tariff] even to save the Union.”[598] He was to

prove himself as good as his word a little later.

Thus, in the midst of the discussion of the Force Bill, Clay, Calhoun,

Clayton, Letcher, and Tyler were in constant communication on the

compromise tariff. Webster was utterly ignored, as was Jackson, these

two refusing to “compromise a principle” in any such fashion.[599] The

fact that Clay and Calhoun had reached a general agreement was soon

known, and it was accepted as an offensive and defensive alliance

against Jackson. “They are partners in a contra dance,” wrote Blair in

the “Globe.” “For some time they turned their backs on each other. They

will make a match of it. In plain English, we have a new

coalition.”[600]

In due time the bill was introduced by Clay, much to the delight of

Tyler. “I recall the enthusiasm I felt that day,” said Tyler, almost

thirty years afterwards. “We advanced to meet each other, and grasped

each other’s hands, midway of the chamber.”[601] This measure, differing

from Clay’s original plan, provided that for all articles paying more

than twenty per cent duty, the surplus above that rate should be

gradually reduced, until in 1842 all should disappear. The manufacturers

as usual had been summoned and consulted. At first dismayed and

outraged, they soon realized that it was to their interest to fall into

line. Certain features had been voted down in committee, but here

Clayton asserted himself. He announced that these would be introduced as

amendments on the floor, and that unless every Nullifier voted for them

all, he would kill the bill himself by making the motion to table it.

The most objectionable of these, to Calhoun, was that on home valuation.

Such was the situation when Clay presented the bill on February 12th,

three days before Calhoun rose to speak on the Force Bill. Webster and

Adams, thoroughly disgusted, at once announced their opposition, and

Jackson could not restrain his contempt for the unholy alliance, which

was almost immediately to become a triple alliance with the Bank as the

third party. “I have no doubt,” the President wrote Hamilton, “the

people will duly appreciate the motive which led to it.”[602]

In presenting the measure, Clay made no secret of his purpose. “I

believe the American System to be in the greatest danger,” he said, “and

I believe that it can be placed on a better and a safer foundation at

this session than next.” Webster, however, was not impressed. “This may

be so, sir,” he replied. “This may be so. But, if it be so, it is

because the American people will not sanction the tariff; and if they

will not, then, sir, it cannot be sustained at all.” Calhoun heartily

approved the object of the bill. “He who loves the Union,” he said,

“must desire to see this agitating question brought to a termination.”

John Forsyth, representing the Administration, objected to the

introduction of the bill fourteen days before the expiration of the

Congress. Would it not be better to await the action of the House on the

bill before it--the Verplanck Bill? And he objected, properly, on the

ground that all revenue measures had to originate in the House. This

constitutional objection, raised by Forsyth, was met on February 25th

just as the House was about to adjourn for dinner, when the ever handy

Letcher arose and moved the substitution of the Clay bill for the one

then pending. The motion was carried and the bill passed the lower

branch of Congress.[603]

Thus the two measures, the Force Bill and the compromise tariff, were

pending in the Senate at the same time, with Clay making every effort,

but without avail, to pass his measure first.

On February 24th the Force Bill was called up for final action. With the

beginning of the calling of the roll, all the enemies of the measure,

with the single exception of John Tyler, arose and filed from the Senate

Chamber. Taken by surprise at such conduct, Tyler immediately moved an

adjournment. Wilkins called attention to the fact that Calhoun and his

followers had just that moment withdrawn, and the motion was defeated.

The roll-call proceeded--and only the name of John Tyler appears on the

list of the negatives. Such was always the courage of this

much-belittled man--a courage which we shall meet again.[604] Five days

later the tariff bill was called up, and Clayton offered his amendments

which were so offensive to Calhoun and his followers, repeating his

threat to kill the bill if Calhoun and all the Nullifiers did not vote

for every amendment. Clay and Calhoun consulted, and Clayton was

importuned to yield, but the stubborn protectionist was adamant. Thus

confronted, Clay and Calhoun accepted the amendments, and, as Clayton

presented them, voted for them, one by one, until the last and most

distasteful, on home valuation, was reached.

Here the friends of Calhoun balked, and Clayton, never given to idle

bluster, immediately made his motion to table the bill. Clay implored,

and Clayton set his jaws and shook his head. The measure seemed doomed.

Meanwhile, the Nullifiers, greatly alarmed, withdrew to the space behind

the Vice-President’s chair for consultation. Finally Clayton was

requested to withdraw his motion to give Calhoun and his friends time

for consideration. With the understanding that, unless the votes were

forthcoming, the motion would be renewed, the request was granted, and

the Senate adjourned for the night.

The morning found Clayton confronted with a plan devised during the

night to spare Calhoun the humiliation of voting for the hated

amendment, provided enough votes were assured to carry it through

without his vote. The immovable Clayton sternly shook his head. Calhoun

must vote for every amendment and for the bill. When the Senate

convened, it was still uncertain what the Carolinian would do. At

length, after all of his friends had first stated their objections, and

yet reluctantly yielded, Calhoun arose, repeated the performance, and,

having voted for the amendment at the dictation of Clayton, voted for

the bill.[605] The unhappy plight of Calhoun was not lost upon his

enemies, and Blair found in it an inspiration for his sarcasm. “A single

night,” he wrote, “was sufficient to change the settled opinion of the

profound reader of the Constitution. We exceedingly doubt whether in the

private interview in which Mr. Clay disposed of Mr. Calhoun’s

constitutional scruples, a word was uttered in relation to the

Constitution.”[606] Thus passed into law, under circumstances deserving

of Benton’s reprehension, the measure concocted by a combination of

erstwhile foes.[607] The Nullifiers died hard, and Duff Green, the pen

of Nullification, made printer to the Senate by this incongruous

combination, in performing the hateful official duty of publishing the

Force Bill in the “Telegraph,” had the impudence to dress his paper in

mourning. “This is the way,” observed a Jacksonian paper, “this

ungrateful wretch shows his gratitude to the Senate for his recent

appointment.”[608]

VIII

Meanwhile, what of South Carolina?

The letter of Cass, published in the “Richmond Enquirer,” had borne

fruit, and Virginia had sent Benjamin Watkins Leigh, a lawyer of

distinction and an orator of no mean ability, to Charleston to ask a

suspension of the Nullification Ordinance until Congress had adjourned.

An ardent devotee of State Rights, now a bitter enemy of Jackson, and

soon to enter the Senate to make his opposition felt, he had much in his

principles and personality to command a respectful hearing from South

Carolina. The call of the Nullification Convention was consequently

postponed until after the adjournment of Congress, and March 11th was

fixed as the day for reassembling. By that time it was all over--the

Force Bill in effect. The convention met at Columbia, with Hayne in the

chair. Leigh was invited within the bar. The dominating figure of the

scene, however, was Calhoun, who had gone post-haste to Carolina to urge

the acceptance of the compromise. The tall, thin figure of the great

Senator, seated among the delegates on the floor, was the star of the

assembly. A committee was named to consider the general course of

action; and one week later the Ordinance of Nullification was rescinded,

and by a vote of 153 to 4 the convention agreed that the threatened

danger was over.

The political effect of the fight was to be felt throughout the period

of the generation then living. The Secessionists and Nullifiers paraded,

with much flapping of banners, out of the Democratic Party, to be

joyously and effusively welcomed by Henry Clay into the Opposition.

During the remainder of Jackson’s Administration, the most bitter and

persistent of his foes were to be men, once Democrats, who had left the

party because Jackson was prepared to preserve the Union with the sword.

Calhoun and Preston, McDuffie and Poindexter, Leigh and Tyler--these

were to crowd Clay for the leadership of the party that now prepared to

enter the lists against Jackson and his Administration, flying the flag,

and posing as the real friends of the Republic and the Constitution. If

they had been free with their characterizations of Jackson during the

Nullification fight as “tyrant,” “despot,” “autocrat,” they were to use

the epithets more frequently in opposing him upon the Bank. If during

this latter struggle they were to speak with almost convincing eloquence

of the destruction of free institutions, they had learned the language

when calling upon the people to defend their liberties against the

author of the Nullification Proclamation. Out of this alliance, for

which Clay had so cunningly planned, was to come a party to oppose the

Democratic Party with indifferent success for twenty-two years; and,

strangely enough, the only one of its leaders to become a beneficiary of

the unholy alliance was John Tyler, who was to reach the White House.

Poinsett, after the Nullification fight, retired to his rice plantation,

where he lived with his books and enjoying the society of cultivated men

and women, until called by Van Buren to enter his Cabinet. Serving

throughout the Administration, he returned, at the expiration of his

term, to his plantation, where he died ten years before the attack on

Sumter.

The passage of the two important measures was not, however, to end the

drama of the session--one of the most dramatic in American history. It

was on the last night that Jackson, finding many of his friends had left

the Capitol, “pocketed” Clay’s Land Bill and his own veto. Naturally

enough the session ended in bitter partisan wrangles and with much bad

blood on both sides. Uproarious shouts of derision greeted the customary

resolution of thanks to the Speaker. Many members were in a state of

hopeless drunkenness. It was five o’clock in the morning when Adams

invited Edward Everett to ride home with him. The drowsy driver touched

the horses, and over the frozen ruts of the Avenue, the carriage jolted

homeward. Almost immediately the driver was asleep, and the carriage,

striking a rut in front of Gadsby’s, the sleepy statesmen narrowly

escaped a plunge into the snow. Soon, however, they reached the

“macadamized part of the Avenue,” without more mishaps; and having left

Everett at his lodgings, Adams alighted and walked to his own home, with

the thermometer registering six below zero. Thus the last figure of that

historic and bitter session of whom we catch a glimpse is that of the

short, blear-eyed ex-President, trudging homeward through the dark,

ill-paved Washington streets at five o’clock on a frigid morning.[609]

The party battles of the Jackson period · 第 10 / 17 章