PROTESTER AND PATRIOT
The year 1837 is the culmination of the first period of abolitionism in
Illinois. Until then, abolitionism was a hated eastern conception.
Despite opposition, and somewhat feeding on it, it slowly filtered its
way through an almost impervious public sentiment. A small band
encountered with heroism, the continuous martyrdom that waits on the
protagonist. Few in numbers, zealous in their gospel, superbly confident
in the rectitude of their counsel they aroused the spirit of
retaliation. Their excessive zeal transcended all other obligations,
rendering them indifferent, if not hostile, to the constitutional
compact. They stimulated and encouraged to life a corresponding
bitterness among the multitude.
It was in those days a mortal offence to call a man an abolitionist. The
popular mind scarcely distinguished between men who stole horses and men
who freed negroes. They regarded anti-slavery men as robbers, disturbers
of the peace, the instigators of arson, and enemies to the Union which
gave us as a people liberty and strength. "In testimony of these
sentiments, Illinois enacted a 'black code' of most preposterous and
cruel severity,--a code that would have been a disgrace to a slave
state, and was simply an infamy in a free one. It borrowed the
provisions of the most revolting laws known among men, for exiling,
selling, beating, bedeviling, and torturing negroes, whether bond or
free."[122]
[122] Lamon, 206.
That the opposition of slavery was bothering the people of Sangamon
County, is evident from the following resolution adopted at Springfield
in 1837 at a public meeting, over which Judge Brown presided:
"Resolved that in the opinion of this meeting the doctrine of the
immediate emancipation of the slaves of this country (although
promulgated by those who profess to be Christians) is at variance with
Christianity, and its tendency is to breed contention, broil and mobs;
and the leaders of those calling themselves Abolitionists are designing
ambitious men and dangerous members of society and should be shunned by
all good citizens."[123]
[123] History of Sangamon County, 251.
Illinois would scarcely brook unchained utterance on the darkest
question of all the ages,--the "right of one man to eat the bread which
another earned." A kind of stifling ostracism awaited the lowly or the
towering disciple who spoke in the language of Jefferson, of the fear
awakening problem. Every generation has its remorseless method of
crucifying its heroes of speech and deed. Business and political
interests, social influences and religious affiliations concerted in the
crushing of abolitionism. Success might have crowned their effort had
prudence been their companion, but they mobbed, maltreated, and even
murdered the champions of the new movement. Had madness confounded them,
they could not have acted more unwisely. This, more than all the
agitation of abolition leaders, quickened the moral vitality of the
people. There were many white men who cared little for the slave, but
much for the gospel of free speech as old as the Anglo-Saxon race. This
fatal policy of brute force finally dictated the doom of a power that
long mocked all opposition, that dreamed of an imperial government
grander than the vision which "Stout Cortez" beheld when he first stared
at the Pacific, "silent on a peak in Darien."
The motives that prompted public sentiment in Illinois to throttle
discussion on the slave question, almost baffle understanding. The
Lovejoys attacked no vested interest in the State, menaced no
substantial rights of person or property. While the Southern States
busied themselves with the doctrine that it was the privilege of each
State to demean itself as it wished, subject only to the Constitution,
as it interpreted that instrument, there was small occasion for a
Northern commonwealth to curb its own citizens, to sacrifice ancient and
cherished rights for the pleasure of an exacting foreign institution.
The anti-slavery forces with keenness of vision saw the weak point of
the enemy's attack, so they ranged themselves round the banner,
proclaiming the doctrine of free speech and the sacredness of an
unshackled press. Nothing more inherently reveals the weakness of the
advocates of slavery, than their morbid fear of free and frank inquiry
into its policy and wisdom. In the face of an institution demanding mob
power, and the sacrifice of priceless principles, the Abolitionists
performed a wholesome public service in contending that then more than
ever liberty of discussion should be protected, maintained and hallowed.
Suddenly, in the same year up starts Lincoln the statesman, Lincoln the
politician sinks. He possessed the rare gift of concealing his most
cherished opinions until the time was ripe for expression. He was aware
of the folly of mouthing truths when no good could come therefrom. In
this, he was a politician. Still when the occasion called for an act of
fortitude, when the solemnity of the hour summoned heroic utterance, as
from "heights afar," the sound of his voice was heard and the thrill of
his words awakened. In this, he was a supreme statesman.
Strange medley of the ideal and the practical,--at times he appeared the
very woof of the visionary, and then stood forth as a petty politician.
He was a mystery and a wonder to his contemporaries. They never beheld
such a man; they had no standard by which to measure him. First, amazing
some by the minuteness of his strategy, he would then startle others by
a bold proclamation of immortal truth. There was something elusive in
the manifoldness of his nature. The world with childlike simplicity
looks for uniformity of action, for consistency. So it was that in later
years time-servers called Lincoln the apostle of radicalism, and
radicals named him the slave of conservatism.
The legislature instead of branding the black crime of the murder of
Lovejoy in 1837, hastened to pass resolutions of sympathy with slavery.
No external inducement guided Lincoln to fly in the face of the
sentiment of the Legislature, the State and Nation in regard to
Abolitionism. His conduct mystifies unless the abiding impress of the
incident at New Orleans is fully measured. It was no idle vaunt that
stirred him to the declaration that if he ever had the chance he would
strike a blow for the enslaved. The testing time was at hand. His oath
was "registered in Heaven." It was necessary to join the majority in
their defence of slavery, or strike a lonely path in behalf of the
enslaved. His soul faced that crisis. No longer helpless, he was widely
known, and was distinguished for his services as a political leader.
High in position, his act and word carrying weight, he proclaimed his
protest. The chance being at hand, he struck slavery a stinging blow.
The silence of nearly a decade was broken in words that shall echo for
evermore. Only one other representative, Dan Stone, of Sangamon County,
dared to sign the following signal dissent that will save him from an
oblivion that has already enshrouded those who voted for the successful
resolutions:
"They believe that the institution of slavery is founded on both
injustice and bad policy, but that the promulgation of abolition
doctrines tends rather to increase than abate the evils.
"They believe that the Congress of the United States has no power
under the Constitution to interfere with the institution of slavery
in the different States.
"They believe that the Congress of the United States has the power,
under the Constitution, to abolish slavery in the District of
Columbia, but that the power ought not to be exercised, unless at
the request of the people of the District.
"The difference between these opinions and those contained in the
said resolutions is their reason for entering this protest.
"Dan Stone,
"A. Lincoln.
"Representatives of the County of Sangamon."[124]
[124] Lincoln's Speeches, 1, 15.
The resolutions that passed the General Assembly were still rather
conservative for the time and place. The protest of Lincoln is therefore
the more significant, as indicating its origin from some deep mental or
moral sentiment. Every letter in the protest is weighed. No product of
Lincoln is more native to his genius. It is as restrained as a judicial
decision. Avoiding unneeded antagonism, it is framed with admirable
diplomacy. Radical in thought, still so moderate in expression, it saved
his power for further good, not placing him beyond fellowship with his
associates. Yet with all its subdued character, with infinite wisdom it
made the assault at the weakest point, declaring that slavery was
founded, not only on injustice, but _bad policy_. In the last phrase
lurked the sting that was to awaken the self-interest of the North, the
same kind of selfishness that solidified the South in defending the
institution. Lincoln was among the first to grasp and lay stress on the
warp of the issue. He once declared that honest statesmanship was the
employment of individual meanness for the public good. When
self-interest became enlisted with conscience against the evil, its days
were numbered. While Abolitionism was noisily tugging at one of the
pillars that supported human bondage, Lincoln serenely forged an
argument linking its moral and industrial weakness, an argument that
finally shook its very foundation, until the peculiar institution that
dominated the destiny of the nation for more than half a century tumbled
to destruction. While other men were forced to change their opinions
through the malignancy of slavery to keep abreast of public sentiment,
Lincoln remained steadfast in his opinions and his policy. At the
outset, he foresaw that no institution could last long that rested on
injustice and bad policy. Only a change of external conditions separated
the man who entered a solemn protest against the iniquity of slavery in
a hostile community and the leader who gave life to the momentous act of
the nineteenth century.
The period preceding the murder of Lovejoy was an era of unrest. The mob
spirit ranged over the land. Thus in commenting upon the murder of the
mulatto McIntosh, Lovejoy says: "In Charlestown it burns a Convent over
the head of defenseless women; in Baltimore it desecrates the Sabbath,
and works all that day in demolishing a private citizen's house; in
Vicksburg it hangs up gamblers, three or four in a row; and in St.
Louis it forces a man--a hardened wretch certainly, and one that
deserves to die, but not _thus_ to die--it forces him from beneath the
aegis of our constitution and laws, hurries him to the stake and burns
him alive!"[C]
[C] Lovejoy, 172.
Without doubt, the murder of Lovejoy and similar incidents drew the mind
of Lincoln to the discussion of the subject of the preservation of our
institutions. For Herndon has left valuable testimony as to the
influence of like events on his own opinions. The cruel and uncalled-for
murder aroused anti-slavery sentiments, penetrating the college at
Jacksonville where he was attending, and both faculty and students were
unrestrained in their denunciation. Herndon's father, believing that the
college was too strongly permeated with the virus of Abolitionism,
forced him to withdraw from the institution. But Herndon declares that
it was too late; that the murder of Lovejoy filled him with more
desperation than the slave scene in New Orleans did Lincoln. For while
the latter believed in non-interference with slavery, as long as the
Constitution authorized its existence, Herndon, although acting
nominally with the Whig party up to 1853, struck out for Abolitionism
pure and simple.[125]
[125] Herndon, 1, 178-9.
In the fall of 1837, Lincoln addressed the Young Men's Lyceum at
Springfield, Illinois, in a formal discourse bearing traces of
considerable preparation. The style is fulsome and fanciful, and unlike
his own crisp utterance of previous or subsequent periods. For a time he
wandered from his natural self and followed the glitter of what he
doubtless deemed a more cultivated form of expression. Thus it begins:
"In the great journal of things happening under the sun, we, the
American people, find our account running under date of the nineteenth
century of the Christian era. We find ourselves in the peaceful
possession of the fairest portion of the earth as regards extent of
territory, fertility of soil and salubrity of climate. We find ourselves
under the government of a system of political institutions conducing
more essentially to the ends of civil and religious liberty than any of
which the history of former times tells us."[126]
[126] Lincoln's Speeches, 1, 9.
It is especially important to take note of Lincoln's attitude of the
prevailing mob spirit. His treatment of that theme, his mode and manner
and thought, is so like that of the editor of the _Alton Observer_, that
it is reasonable to assume that there was a common origin to the common
sentiment. The same scenes and events that stirred the soul of Lovejoy
aroused that of Lincoln. His direct onslaught on the mob spirit being
largely connected with the slave issue, was an indirect attack on
slavery. In this, Lincoln and the Abolitionists stood on the same
ground. He extravagantly denounced the malefaction of the mobs, saying
that they pervaded the country from New England to Louisiana; and alike
sprang up among the pleasure-hunting masters of Southern slaves, and the
order-loving citizens of the land of steady habits, that this process of
hanging went on from gamblers to negroes, from negroes to white
citizens, and from these to strangers, till dead men were seen literally
dangling from the boughs of trees upon every roadside. He further
insisted that by the operation of this mobocratic spirit, the strongest
bulwark of any government might effectually be broken down and
destroyed--the attachment of the people. He contended that whenever the
vicious portion of population should be permitted to burn churches,
ravage provision stores, throw printing presses into rivers, shoot
editors, and hang and burn obnoxious persons with impunity, this
government could not last.[127]
[127] _Ibid._, 10-11.
Under the display of such extravagant expression there is still
patriotic apprehensiveness of danger to the national existence. He
fought out the solution of the problem unaided until the way seemed
clear and plain. To him the remedy was simple--obedience to the law of
the land.
"Let reverence for the law be breathed by every American mother to the
lisping babe that prattles on her lap; let it be taught in schools, in
seminaries and in colleges; let it be written in primers, spelling
books, and in almanacs; let it be preached from the pulpit, proclaimed
in legislative halls, and enforced in courts of justice. And, in short,
let it become the political religion of the nation, and let the old and
the young, the rich and the poor, the grave and the gay of all sexes and
tongues and colors and conditions, sacrifice unceasingly upon its
altars....
"When I so pressingly urge a strict observance of all the laws, let me
not be understood as saying there are no bad laws, or that grievances
may not arise for the redress of which no legal provisions have been
made. I mean to say no such thing. But I do mean to say that although
bad laws if they exist, should be repealed as soon as possible, still,
while they continue in force, for the sake of example they should be
religiously observed. So also in unprovided cases. If such arises, let
proper legal provision be made for them with the least possible delay,
but till then, if not too intolerable, be borne with."[128]
[128] Lincoln's Speeches, 1, 12.
His remedy bespeaking reverence for the laws, would destroy the rampant
spirit in the slavery movement and in abolitionism, so that neither
would violate the law of the land, and so that the controversy might be
conducted without intruding on the sanctity of the fundamental
principles of the Constitution.
From this time, Lincoln ceased to be a mere local politician. He became
intensely concerned over national questions. Naturally, a man of broad
views, he soon threw off the coil of locality, and with zeal invaded the
arena of national issues. His mind ranged over the general domain for
materials. Local issues were only stepping stones to him. Leaving the
valley of minor matters, with exuberant spirits, he rejoicingly entered
the new land of larger import, and of broader moment to the weal of the
nation. For the first time he encountered extensive questions concerning
the very foundations of the Republic.
"Towering genius," he said, "disdains a beaten path. It seeks regions
hitherto unexplored. It sees no distinction in adding story to story
upon the monuments of fame erected to the memory of others. It denies
that it is glory enough to serve under any chief. It scorns to tread in
the footsteps of any predecessor, however illustrious. It thirsts and
burns for distinction; and if possible, it will have it, whether at the
expense of emancipating slaves or enslaving freemen."[129]
[129] Lincoln's Speeches, 1, 13.
We here strike a golden vein in his character. Ranging over the world's
activities for an illustration to rival the ambition of towering genius,
he finds it in the enslavement or emancipation of a race. Out of the
loneliness of his individuality, out of the solemnity of his
deliberations, he grew into a great character. It is his own
illustration dug out of his mental experience, a product of a mind
brooding over a national destiny. He saw with unerring vision, for men
did come in his own generation who did not scruple to climb to power
upon the back of an enslaved people. The true Lincoln consists not only
of the humble man, of homely face, gaunt form, shambling limbs, quaint
utterance, rude story and humble way. We may also see him in his early
manhood with Titan power, fighting and triumphing over the brute forces
of his being, over his ambition, and towering to the greatness of
righteous triumph. Conduct is only the shadow of soul struggle. Nearly
three decades before the Emancipation, its destiny was determined in no
small measure by the events that led to the murder of Lovejoy.