Chapter IV. The Compromise of 1850.

Douglas served two terms in the House and was again elected in

1846, but in January following was chosen Senator, taking his seat

on March 4th, 1847. In April following he married Martha Denny

Martin, daughter of a wealthy North Carolina planter and slave-owner.

The Senate, during the early years of his service, was in its

intellectual gifts altogether the most extraordinary body ever

assembled in the United States. Rarely, if ever, in the history of

the world, have so many men of remarkable endowment, high training

and masterful energy been gathered in a single assembly. It was the

period when the generation of Webster, Clay and Calhoun overlapped

that of Seward, Chase and Sumner, when the men who had set at the

feet of the Revolutionary Fathers and had striven to settle the

interpretation of the Constitution met the men who were destined

to guide the Nation through the Civil War and settle the perplexing

questions arising from it.

Webster was now an old man, his face deep lined with care,

disappointment and dissipation. Though sixty-eight years old and

the greatest orator of the century, his heart was still consumed

with unquenchable thirst of the honor of succeeding John Tyler

and James K. Polk. Calhoun, now sixty-five years old, a ghastly

physical wreck, still represented South Carolina and dismally

speculated on the prospect of surviving the outgrown Union. Cass,

equal in years with Calhoun, still held his seat in the Senate and

cherished the delusive hope of yet reaching the Presidency. Benton

was closing his fifth and last term in the Senate, and Clay, the

knightly leader of the trimming Whigs, though now in temporary

retirement, was soon to return and resume his old leadership.

Within the first four years of Douglas' service, Salmon P. Chase,

William H. Seward and Charles Sumner made their appearance in the

Senate. A new generation of giants seemed providentially supplied

as the old neared the end of their service. Douglas, though serving

with both these groups of statesmen, belonged to neither. Running

his career side by side with the later school of political leaders

and sharing in the great struggles on which their fame, in large

part, rests, his character and ideals were those of the older

generation.

The questions confronting Congress were of transcendent interest

and incalculable importance. A sudden and astounding expansion had

occurred, calling for the highest, wisest and most disinterested

statesmanship in providing governments for the newly acquired

domain. A million and a half miles of new territory, extending

through sixteen degrees of latitude, was now to be organized; the

future destiny of this vast territory, and indirectly that of free

institutions generally, was supposed to depend on the decision of

Congress. Above all, the fate of the American apple of discord,

human slavery, was understood to be involved in the construction

of territorial and State governments for these new possessions. It

was deemed by the South indispensable to the safety and permanence

of slavery to plant it in them.

For that half-disguised purpose they had been acquired at great

expense of blood and money. New States, it was hoped, might now be

created south of the line below which slavery flourished, balancing

those to be admitted from the growing Northwest. Thus far the

adventurous West had powerfully supported the South in its schemes

of conquest, but had no sympathy with slavery. The old North,

thought ready to submit to its continued existence in the States

where already established, was implacably hostile to its further

spread.

It was not a question of ethics or of sober statesmanship, but one

of practical politics, that divided the North and the South at this

period. Each hoped to secure for itself the alliance and sympathy

of the new States thereafter admitted. Each applied itself to the

task of shaping the Territories and moulding the future States to

serve its ulterior views.

When Congress attempted to organize territorial governments,

the people of the North insisted on the exclusion of slavery from

Oregon and the territory acquired from Mexico. The people of the

South made no resistance to its exclusion from Oregon. It was

already excluded by "the ordinance of Nature or the will of God."

But that the vast territory torn from Mexico, acquired by the common

blood and treasure, should now be closed to their institution, was

intolerable. To secure it they had sinned deep. After the conquest

their position was peculiarly awkward. The laws of Mexico excluding

slavery continued in force. Hence in all this territory slavery

was as effectually prohibited as in Massachusetts until Congress

could accomplish the odious work of introducing it by express

enactment. Calhoun strenuously argued the novel proposition that,

on the overthrow of the authority of the Mexican government by

American arms, the laws and constitution of Mexico were extinguished

and those of the United States, so far as applicable, occupied the

vacant field; that the Federal Constitution carried slavery with

it wherever it went, except where by the laws of a sovereign State

it was excluded.

He announced the proposition afterwards established by the Supreme

Court, that, as the Constitution proprio vigore carried slavery

into all the Territories, neither the territorial legislatures nor

Congress itself had power to interfere with the right of holding

slaves within them.

Webster conclusively answered this refined sophistry, pointing

out that slavery was merely a municipal institution, in derogation

of the common right of mankind, against the native instincts of

humanity, dependent wholly for its right of existence upon local

legislation, and that the real demand of the people of the South

was not to carry their slaves into the new Territories, but to

carry with them the slave codes of their several States.

While the venerable leaders who had ruled Congress and swayed public

opinion for thirty years were uttering philosophic disquisitions

on constitutional law or the ethics of slavery, Douglas had with

practical sagacity offered an amendment to the Oregon bill, extending

the line of the Missouri Compromise to the Pacific. This would not

decide the great moral question between those who believed slavery

an unmixed good and those who believed it the sum of all villainies.

But he thought that moral ideas had no place in politics. It would

not decide the great question of constitutional law between those

who, like Calhoun, believed slavery the creature of the Federal

Constitution, and those, who, like Webster, believed it the creature

of local municipal law. But it promised a temporary respite to

the vexed question. He had already, in the House, advocated the

extension of this line through the Western Territories. He believed

that adhesion to this venerable Compromise, now as sacred as the

Constitution itself, was the hope of the future and succeeded in

persuading the Senate to adopt his amendment as the final solution

of the vexed problem. It was rejected in the House and the question

indefinitely postponed.

In the Territories, meanwhile, events moved fast. While Congress

had been wrangling over the new possessions, gold was discovered

in California. A tumultuous rush of people, unparalleled since the

Crusades, at once began by all routes from every region to the new

El Dorado. More than 80,000 settlers arrived in 1849. A spontaneous

movement of the people resulted in a Constitutional Convention,

which met at Monterey on September 3d of that year, and adopted a

Constitution which forever prohibited slavery. It was submitted

to a vote and adopted in November.

Congress met on December 3d and resumed the Sisyphean labors of the

last session. Douglas was chairman of the Committee on Territories,

to which were referred all measures affecting the recent

acquisitions--altogether the most momentous of the session--which

stirred the deepest passions of Congress and held the keenest attention

of the people. In the early days of December he submitted to his

Committee two bills. One provided for the immediate admission

of California; the other for the establishment of governments for

Utah and New Mexico and the adjustment of the Texas boundary. On

March 25th they were reported to the Senate. Meanwhile Taylor,

in a special message, had recommended the immediate admission of

California. Senator Mason had introduced a bill providing more

effective means for the summary return of fugitive slaves, in

effect converting the population of the free States into a posse

comitatus charged with the duty of hunting down the fugitive sand

returning him to bondage. The clash of arms had begun. Both sides

were passionately in earnest and resolved to encounter the utmost

extremity rather than yield. The Democrats had a small majority

in the Senate, while in the House neither party had a majority.

The Free Soilers held the balance of power, but by a refusal

to cooperate with the conservative opponents of slavery extension

left the control of the House in the hands of the Democrats. The

chief business of the early weeks of the session was the delivery

of defiant speeches and the presentation of resolutions defining

the opinions of various segments of distracted parties and revealing

the chasm that was opening between the friends and opponents of

slavery.

On the 21st of January the rival Whig chiefs of the Senate held

a confidential conference. Clay submitted a plan of compromise

covering the whole field of controversy. Webster promised his

cordial support. A week later Clay presented the first draft of

his famous slavery Compromise. He was under the sincere illusion

that he had been spared by Providence that he might save his country

in this great exigency and that his bill would secure long years

of peace and harmony. At least, as many of them were old men, it

would postpone the evil day until they had been safely gathered to

their fathers, and, according to the political morals of the age,

the next generation must take care of itself. Douglas moved to refer

the resolutions to the Committee on Territories; but, on motion of

Foote of Mississippi, they were referred to a select Committee of

Thirteen, consisting of three Northern Whigs, three Southern Whigs,

three Southern and three Northern Democrats, with Clay as chairman.

Douglas was not on this Committee. It was composed of old Senators

whose established reputations were expected to give credit to any

proposition of compromise.

On May 8th the Committee reported, recommending the immediate admission

of California, the establishment of territorial governments in New

Mexico and Utah with no mention of the slavery question, the settlement

of the Texas boundary dispute and the enactment of a law providing

for the more effectual return of fugitive slaves. Substantially

it was Douglas' two bills joined together, with Mason's Fugitive

Slave bill annexed. It was a mass of unrelated measures, jumbled

together for the illegitimate purpose of compelling support of the

whole from friends of the several parts.

Clay spoke for two days in support of his great masterpiece of

compromising statesmanship. He insisted that it should be accepted

by all for the reason that "neither party made any concession

of principle, but only of feeling and sentiment," and ingeniously

sought to soothe the anger of the North by the assurance that the

principle of popular sovereignty embodied in the bill was not only

eminently just and in harmony with the spirit of our institutions

but entirely harmless, inasmuch as the North had Nature on its

side, facts on its side and the truth staring it in the face that

there was no slavery in the Territories, proving that the law of

Nature was of paramount force.

On March 4th Calhoun attempted to speak, but found himself unable

and handed his speech to Mason who read it for him. He rejected

Clay's Compromise as futile and denied utterly the right of the

inhabitants of a Territory to exclude slavery. He accused the North

of having pursued a course of systematic hostility to Southern

institutions since the close of the Revolution, and cited the

Ordinance of 1787, the Missouri Compromise and the exclusion of

slavery from Oregon as instances of Northern aggression; and now,

he said, the final and fatal act of exclusion was attempted. He

denounced the action of the people of California in organizing a

State without congressional authority as revolutionary and rebellious.

He grimly announced that the South had no concessions to make, even

to save the poor wreck of a once glorious Union. He plainly told

them that if the Union was to be saved the North must save it. It

must open the Territories to slavery. It must surrender fugitive

slaves. It must cease agitating the slavery question. The

Constitution must be amended so as to restore to the South the

power of protecting itself. If they were not willing to do these

acts of justice, nor that the South should depart in peace, let

them say so, that it might know what to do when the question was

reduced to one of submission or resistance.

Three days later Webster delivered his famous 7th of March speech.

He criticized with severity the Northern Democracy for its eager

and officious subserviency to the South throughout the whole

controversy arising out of the Mexican War, hinting that it had

been even more eager to server than the South had been to accept

its service. He said that the Mexican War had been prosecuted for

the purpose of the acquisition of territory for the extension of

slavery, but that the nature of the country had defeated, in large

part, the hopes of the South. He declared that the whole question

of slavery was settled by a higher law than that of Congress and

that there was not then a foot of territory whose status was not

already fixed by the laws of the several States or the decree of

the Almighty; that, by the irrepealable laws of physical geography,

slavery was already excluded from California and New Mexico. He

"would not take pains uselessly to reaffirm an ordinance of Nature,

nor to reenact the will of God." He denounced the Abolitionists

and urged upon the Northern States the duty of faithfully and

energetically enforcing the abhorred Fugitive Slave Law.

Seward, speaking a few days later, insisted that it was their

clear duty to admit California under any Constitution adopted by

it, republican in form, and assured then that had its Constitution

permitted slavery he would still have deemed it his duty to vote

for its admission. He protested against the Fugitive Slave Law as

necessarily nugatory and utterly impossible of execution because

unanimously condemned by the public sentiment of the North. In

answer to the crushing argument that the Constitution carried

slavery into the Territories and that cheerful obedience must be

yielded to the supreme law, he announced the startling doctrine

that there was a HIGHER LAW than the Constitution, to which their

first duty was due; that slavery was a violation of this HIGHER

LAW and hence the Constitution itself was powerless to establish

it in the Territories.

On the 13th and 14th Douglas spoke. The speech was able and

adroit. It was marred by the introduction of party-politics into

a discussion of such gravity. He was always prone to lapse from

statesmanlike dignity to the level of the politician and viewed

most matters primarily in their relation to he transient questions

of party politics. He undertook the ambitious task of replying

to the speeches of Webster, Seward, and Calhoun. He repelled the

charge made by Webster that the Northern Democracy had surrendered

to the slave power in supporting the annexation of Texas and the

Mexican War, declaring that they had supported those measures from

patriotic motives, and that he was "one of those Northern Democrats

who supported annexation with all the zeal of his nature." "With

a touch of the Northwest--the Northwestern Democracy," sneered

Webster, who contemptuously looked upon him as a crude blustering

youth from the far West. But Webster, whose contempt for his coarse

taste was justified, had misjudged his resources and power.

"Yes, sir," replied Douglas, "I am glad to hear the Senator say

'With a touch of the Northwest'; I thank him for the distinction. We

have heard so much talk about the North and South, as if those two

sections were the only ones necessary to be taken into consideration

* * * that I am gratified to find that there are those who appreciate

the important truth that there is a power in this Nation, greater

than either the North or the South--a growing, increasing,

swelling power, that will be able to speak the law to this Nation

and to execute the law as spoken. That power is the country known

as the great West, the Valley of the Mississippi, one and indivisible

from the Gulf to the Great Lakes, stretching on the ones side and

the other to the extreme sources of the Ohio and the Missouri--from

the Alleghenies to the Rocky Mountains.

"There, sir, is the hope of this Nation, the resting-place of the

power that is not only to control but to save the Union. We furnish

the water that makes the Mississippi and we intend to follow,

navigate and use it until it loses itself in the briny ocean. So

with the St. Lawrence. We intend to keep open and enjoy both of

these great outlets to the ocean, and all between them we intend

to take under our especial protection and keep and preserve as one

free, happy, and united people. This is the mission of the great

Mississippi Valley, the heart and soul of the Nation and the

continent. We know the responsibilities that devolve upon us, and

our people will show themselves equal to them. We indulge in no

ultraism, no sectional strifes, no crusades against the North and

the South. * * * We are prepared to fulfill all our obligations under

the Constitution as it is, and determined to maintain and preserve

it inviolate in its letter and spirit. Such is the position, the

destiny and purpose of the great Northwest."

He told Webster that, according to the doctrine of his 7th of March

speech, to permit Texas to be divided into several States would be

harmless, because slavery was excluded from a large part of it by

the ordinance of Nature, the will of God. He taunted him for not

having discovered his now celebrated principle of the ordinance of

Nature and will of God until after Taylor's election, and reminded

him that prior to the election Cass and Buchanan, the recognized

heads of the Democratic party, had advocated leaving the question

to the decision of the settlers in the Territories or, in other

words, leaving the ordinance of Nature and will of God to manifest

themselves. But Webster had then opposed Cass' election and

denounced his doctrines and proposed policies. The Whigs, having

run counter to the overwhelming popular sentiment in their unpatriotic

opposition to the Mexican War, found themselves ruined. They chose

a distinguished soldier of that war President, and hoped to rally

by adopting this Democratic doctrine.

He accused Seward of carrying New York for the Whigs in the late

election by assuring them that Taylor, though a slave-holder, would

approve the legislative monstrosity known as the Wilmot proviso,

excluding slavery forever from the new Territories. But Taylor

had ignored Seward's promise. New York's vote had elected Taylor

and a few weeks later Seward was chosen Senator. Taylor was made

President and Seward Senator by the latter's successful fraud.

Calhoun's charge of Northern aggression and encroachment he met

with a sweeping denial. Neither the North nor the South as such

had any right in the Territories, but all the people of the States

had equal rights there. The Ordinance of 1787, denounced by Calhoun

as a Northern aggression on Southern rights, was voted for by every

Southern State. That Ordinance did not, in fact, exclude the South,

or even slavery, from the Northwest Territory. A majority of the

settlers in Ohio, Indiana and Illinois were from the South. Slavery

had actually existed in Indiana and Illinois and had but recently

disappeared. The Missouri Compromise was not an act of Northern

aggression, but was passed by a united South which had made repeated

efforts to extend it to the Pacific. The exclusion of slavery from

Oregon was not an act of Northern aggression, but the work of the

settlers during the period of joint occupancy under the treaty with

Great Britain, and should be accepted by the anti-slavery agitators

as proof of the wisdom of popular sovereignty. the objection that

the people of the South were forbidden to emigrate with their property

to the new Territories was simply a complaint that they could not

carry the laws of their States with them, but must be governed by

the laws of their new domicile. Calhoun's project of maintaining

an equilibrium between free and slave States or of compelling States

to accept or retain slavery against their will was impossible.

At the organization of the Government twelve of the thirteen States

had slavery. but six of them voluntarily abolished it. Delaware,

Maryland, Missouri, Kentucky, North Carolina, and Tennessee would

yet adopt the system of gradual emancipation. Seventeen free States

would soon be formed out of the territory between the Mississippi

and the Pacific. Where would they find slave territory with which

to balance these States? If Texas were divided into five States,

three of them would be free. If Mexico were annexed, twenty of

her twenty-two States would be free by the ordinance of Nature or

the will of God. He urged the duty of promptly providing governments

for the unorganized domain and closed with a graceful tribute to

Clay and the prediction that the Territories would soon be organized,

California admitted and the controversy ended forever.

There were three generically distinct groups of statesmen participating

in this great debate--the aggressive, unyielding men of the South

to whom slavery was dearer than the Union; the temporizing politicians

of the North and the border, with their compromises and concessions,

hoping to save the Union by salving its wounds; and the stern

Puritans of the North, bent on rooting out the sins of the Nation,

through the heavens fell.

The climax of the debate was now past, but it continued to agitate

Congress until the middle of September. President Taylor, who had

exerted his influence against the Compromise, died on July 9th, and

was succeeded by Fillmore, who at once called Webster to the head

of his Cabinet and turned the Executive influence to the support

of the bill. It proved impossible, even with his help, to pass

it as a whole; but after it had gone to wreck its fragments were

gathered up and each of the several bills which were jumbled together

in the "Omnibus" was passed. The great Compromise was accomplished

and the slavery question declared settled forever.

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