CHAPTER III.

Hiram soon learned a lesson. He discovered there were people in New York

just as quickwitted, as keen, and as shrewd as he was himself. This did

not alarm him. Not a bit. He was only the more ready to appreciate the

truth of Mr. Bennett's remark, that he had yet much to learn.

'I see it,' quoth Hiram. 'The city gets the best of everything, by the

natural course of supply and demand. Yes, it gets the best beef and

mutton and fowls, and fruits and vegetables, and on the same principle

it commands the best men. Well, I like this all the better. It was dull

business in Burnsville, after all, with nobody to compete with. Give me

New York!'

* * * * *

In the store of Hendly, Layton & Gibb, Hiram saw and conversed with

shipmasters who were familiar with every port in the world. The reader

will recollect, at school he had devoted himself to mercantile

geography. Thus he had located in his mind every principal seaport, and

had learned what was the nature of the trade with each. The old sea

captains were amazed at the pertinence of Hiram's questions, and with

the information he possessed on topics connected with their business.

They could scarcely understand it. It gave them a great respect for the

'fellow,' and Hiram speedily became a favorite with them all. He used to

like to go on board their ships, and chat with them there, whenever he

found time. Do not suppose these were mere pleasure excursions. Hiram

Meeker was forming his opinion of each one of these captains. For in his

mind's eye he saw some of them in _his_ employ; but which? that was the

question. So by mingling with them, he learned much of the mechanical

part of commerce, and he discovered, besides their different characters,

who were competent and honest, and who were not altogether so.

Hiram also spent a good deal of his time conversing with Eastman, with

whom he boarded. He got the latter's ideas of business and about the men

they daily encountered, and Eastman could furnish a fund of valuable

information, based on long experience.

Hiram all this time was indefatigable. He watched the course of trade.

He endeavored to discover the secret of the success of the great South

street houses. He worked, he pondered, and yet all the time served

Hendly, Layton & Gibb with fidelity. Eastman became attached to him.

Mrs. Eastman said the man did not give her half the trouble she

expected. So you see, in certain quarters, Hiram was as popular as ever.

Meantime he had secured a seat in and joined Dr. Chellis's church. He

duly presented himself at the Sunday school and obtained a fine class.

From that time he never missed a service on Sunday, nor a lecture, or

prayer meeting, or other weekly gathering. He even attended a funeral

occasionally, in his zeal to 'wait' on all the ordinances. He was,

however, exceedingly modest and unobtrusive. He did not seek to make

acquaintances, but no one could help noticing his punctilious regularity

and decorum. I have remarked that Hiram determined to cut off what had

been a great source of pleasure--society; but he still paid the same

attention to his personal appearance as before. After a while questions

began to be asked: 'Who is this new comer, so constant, so devout, and

so exemplary?'

'What a fine-looking fellow! I wonder who he is?' whispered Miss Tenant

to Miss Stanley, one morning, as our hero passed their seats (they both

had classes) to take his place with his Sunday school pupils.

'I don't know, I am sure,' replied her friend.

'I can't find any one who does. Do you know, _I_ think he is real

handsome?'

'So do I, if he would only lift his head up and look people in the face;

he is as bashful as a sheep.'

'My little brother is in his class, and he says they all like him so

much. He takes such an interest in his pupils.'

'Then I should think you could find out something about him.'

'No: his name is Meeker; that's all any one seems to know.'

'Funny name; I don't like it.'

'Nor I. Still, we won't condemn him for his name. Besides, I like his

face?'

'Hush!'

Here the conversation of the two young people was interrupted by the

rapping of the superintendent, and the services of the school commenced.

If young ladies of the importance of Miss Tenant and Miss Stanley begin

to talk about Hiram, you may be certain it will spread through the

school and into the church. _He_ knew what was going on--of course he

did; but only took still greater pains with his personal appearance, and

became more shy and reserved and assiduously devout.

The elders of the church could not help noticing him.

The young ladies noticed him.

Heads of families observed his exemplary deportment.

Who could he be?

Dr. Chellis, meantime, did not lose sight of his new communicant. They

frequently met, and Hiram was always greeted, if not with cordiality,

yet kindly. Strange to say, contrary to his habit, the Doctor neglected

or omitted to enter into conversation with Hiram on religious topics. He

felt a repugance to doing so which he could not explain. Everything

seemed so praiseworthy in Hiram's conduct, that one would suppose the

worthy divine would like to engage him in conversation, as the Rev. Mr.

Chase used to do at Burnsville. But a certain aversion prevented it.

When applied to for information about Hiram, the Doctor could say

nothing, for he knew nothing; and so the mystery, for a mystery the

young ladies determined to make of it, increased.

At last a rumor was circulated that Hiram had been disappointed in a

love affair. A mischief-loving girl detailed it to Miss Tenant, whose

interest in the young Sunday school teacher gradually grew stronger, and

it soon became a well-authenticated piece of history.

* * * * *

During this time a species of intimacy was growing up between Hiram

Meeker and Hill. An odd companionship, you will say; but they seemed to

get along very well together. The latter, as you may remember, was a

wild, reckless fellow. He had his good traits, though. There was nothing

mean in his composition, but much that was impulsive and generous. He

never laid up a penny, and was always in debt. It was this unfortunate

habit which had kept him so long at Joslin's. He had got in advance of

his salary, and he would not quit till it was made up. When he left

there, he succeeded in getting a place in a large wine and liquor house;

for Hill's acquaintance was extensive, and in those days of

extraordinary 'drumming,' in which he was a great proficient, his

services were valuable. It was through Hill, as I have said, that Hiram

got his place at Hendly's, and after that he was in the habit of looking

in nearly every day on him toward the close of business hours.

I cannot precisely explain by what species of fascination this poor

fellow was attracted to Meeker. Doubtless it originated in the

triumphant resistance which the latter opposed to Hill's attempt on him

at their first acquaintance, and his complete victory over and

discomfiture of Benjamin Joslin, for whom Hill entertained a supreme

contempt. There was a mystery about the sources of Hiram's power which

completed the charm, and made Hill his willing subject, and afterward

slave.

But what did Hiram want of Hill? That would appear more difficult to

answer. He certainly did want something of him. For he encouraged his

coming often to see him, and talked with him a great deal. He even lent

him occasionally small sums of money. I repeat, what a droll

companionship! Hill, a swearing, drinking, godless scapegrace. Meeker, a

quiet, exemplary, religious, laborious young man.

Perhaps it was the rule by which opposites are attracted to each other.

Perhaps it was something else.

On the whole, I am inclined to think it was something else, on Hiram's

part at least. I believe he acted, with respect to Hill, as he did with

respect to everybody--from carefully considered motives. We shall see,

perhaps, by and by, how this was.

Eastman used to wonder that Hiram should tolerate Hill's society. To be

sure, he himself had a sort of family regard for him. But his presence

always annoyed him. He even expressed his surprise to Hiram, who replied

by making use of the moral argument. He was sorry for the poor fellow.

He hoped to do him some good. Possibly he might be able to bring him

under better influences. Certainly Hill would not harm _him_, while, on

the contrary, he (Hill) might be benefited.

Hiram did not tell the truth.

Really, if he had dared to stop and inquire of himself, he would be

forced to acknowledge that he did _not_ want Hill to be different from

what he was. Then he would not serve his purpose. To be sure, sometimes,

when Hill permitted an extra strong oath to escape his lips, Hiram would

fidget and look uneasy, and beg his visitor to break himself of such a

wicked habit. But the secret of Hiram's power did not lie in his _moral_

influence certainly, for Hill's habit of swearing did not improve,

indeed it grew worse.

In this way passed our hero's first year in New York.

NULLIFICATION AND SECESSION.

We publish the principal part of the speech of Hon. R. J. Walker,

against nullification and secession, made at the great Union meeting at

Natchez, Mississippi, on the first Monday of January, 1833. We republish

this speech from the Natchez _Mississippi Journal_ of that date. Upon

that speech, Mr. Walker became the Union candidate for Senator of the

United States from Mississippi against Mr. Poindexter, a Calhoun

nullifier and secessionist. After a three years' contest of unexampled

violence, Mr. Walker was elected on the 8th of January, 1836. So

distinct was the issue, that the Legislature of Mississippi declared

nullification and secession to be treason. The contest was conducted by

Mr. Walker by speeches in every county, with the banner of the Union

waving over him, and to the music of our national airs.

We republish this speech now because it preceded Mr. Webster's great

reply to Calhoun, and because its arguments are applicable to the

present contest. This speech drew out Gen. Jackson's celebrated letter,

heretofore published, in favor of Mr. Walker; and the speech received

the cordial approval of ex-President Madison. By reference to the

Washington city _Globe_ of the 12th August, 1836, it will be found that,

in conversation with Mr. Ingersoll, 'Mr. Madison spoke very freely of

nullification, which he altogether condemned, remarking that Mr. Walker,

of the Senate, in a speech he had made on some occasion, was the _first

person_ who had given to the public what he (Mr. Madison) considers the

true view of Mr. Jefferson's language on that subject.' Mr. Webster gave

the Whig arguments against nullification and secession, Mr. Walker the

democratic; but they both arrived at the same conclusions:

Never, fellow citizens, did I rise to address you with such deep and

abiding impressions of the awful character of that crisis which involves

the existence of the American Union. No mortal eye can pierce the veil

which covers the events of the next few months, but we do know that the

scales are now balancing in fearful equipoise, liberty and union in the

one hand, anarchy or despotism in the other. Which shall preponderate,

is the startling question to which we must all now answer. Already one

bright, one kindred star is sinking from the banner of the American

Union, the very fabric of our government is rocking on its foundations,

one of its proudest pillars is now moving from beneath the glorious

arch, and soon may we all stand amid the broken columns and upon the

scattered fragments of the Constitution of our once united and happy

country. Whilst then we may yet recede from the brink of that precipice

on which we now stand, whilst we are once more convened as citizens of

the American Union, and have still a common country, whilst we are yet

fondly gazing, perhaps for the last time, upon that banner which floated

over the army of Washington, and living beneath that Constitution which

bears his sacred name, let us at least endeavor to transmit to

posterity, unimpaired, that Union, cemented by the blood of our

forefathers. The honorable gentleman who has preceded me, in opposition

to the resolutions submitted for your consideration, tells us that he

was nursed in the principles of '76 and '98--that these are the

principles of Carolina, and that they ought to be maintained. Let me

briefly answer, that the humble individual who now addresses you is the

son of a soldier of the Revolution, and that from the dawning of

manhood, from his first vote to his last, at all times, and upon all

occasions, he has supported and will support the principles of

democracy, and the doctrines of '76 and '98. But it was under the banner

of the Union that the whigs of '76 and '98 achieved their glorious

triumphs; and is that the standard now unfurled by the advocates of

nullification? It is true, we find nullification declared in the

Kentucky resolutions to be a rightful remedy--but nullification by whom?

by a single State? no--by those sovereignties the several States, in the

mode prescribed by the Constitution, by a declaratory amendment

annulling the power under which the law was passed. This would be a

remedy in fact; for it would operate equally on all the States; but can

the same act of Congress be constitutional in one State, and

unconstitutional in another? South Carolina declares the Tariff

unconstitutional--Kentucky declares it valid; is it nullified or not? is

it void or valid? The South Carolina theory gives to each State, of

itself, the unlimited power to pronounce ultimate judgment against the

validity of any act of Congress. If so, the Tariff must be valid in

Kentucky, and void in South Carolina. Yet if the Carolina ordinance,

nullifying the Tariff, be valid in that State, it is valid in every

other State, and Carolina may introduce foreign imports, once landed in

her own State, into every other State, free of all duty; for, by the

Constitution, 'no tax or duty shall be laid on articles exported from

any State.' What then becomes of the ultimate judgment of Kentucky?

Nullified by a single State; and that is the nullification of South

Carolina, by which she can constitutionally, and as a member of the

Union, repeal any act of Congress she may deem invalid, and prescribe

her will for law throughout the limits of every other State. The

Constitution of the Union would then be this: _Be it enacted_, that the

American Congress shall possess such powers only as South Carolina

believes they may lawfully exercise; and the whole American people be

thus subjected to the government of the ordinances of a single State. Is

this democracy? The truth is, every act of Congress is intrinsically

void or valid, from its repugnance to or consonance with the provisions

of the American Constitution; nor can the judgment of a State render

void an act of Congress which is constitutional, or render valid an act

of Congress which is unconstitutional. Would the judgment of a single

State have rendered the alien and sedition law constitutional, or the

last war unconstitutional, or would the Supreme Court of the Union have

been compelled to render opposite judgment in a case brought before

them, declaring the citizen of Massachusetts bound to oppose, and of

Virginia to support either of these laws, as their respective States had

pronounced contradictory judgments upon them? Suppose Massachusetts had

not only declared the last war unconstitutional, but had passed an

ordinance requiring her citizens to resist the war, to prostrate and

oppose the armies of the Republic, and to aid a tyrant's myrmidons in

driving the steel deeper into the bosoms of our bleeding countrymen;

would the ordinance be constitutional, or would not the acts it required

to be performed be treason against the Government of the Union?

It is said a State cannot commit treason; no, but its citizens may; nor

would they be rightfully acquitted because sustained by the judgment of

a single State. If each State possesses an equal right to pass ultimate

judgment upon any act of Congress, and two States enact ordinances

directly contradictory to the same law, do they not, like the meeting of

equal forces in mechanics, nullify each other? or must the same law be

enforced in one State and disregarded in the other? Not without

violating the Constitution; for if New York pronounces the Tariff valid,

and South Carolina declares it void, and suits are instituted in each

State on bonds given for the payment of duties on imports introduced

into each, must the duties be collected in one State, but not in the

other? This would be to set at open defiance those clauses of the

Constitution which declare that all imposts 'shall be uniform throughout

the United States,' and that 'no preference shall exist in the

collection of revenue in the ports of one State over those of another.'

Upon an appeal from the decisions by the Federal district courts of New

York and Carolina, in the suits on the bonds for these duties, how would

the Supreme Court of the Union decide the question? by enforcing the

payment of the bonds given in Carolina? No; for that State had exercised

the right of ultimate judgment, and pronounced the law invalid; would

the court decide against the validity of the bond given in New York? No;

for that State, in exercising its equal right of pronouncing ultimate

judgment, had declared that the law was valid. Or would they enforce the

payments of the duties in New York and not in South Carolina? This, we

have seen, would violate both the clauses of the Constitution last

quoted. The only remaining judgment would be, to disregard the edict of

a single State, and to enforce the payment of the duties in both States,

or in neither, as the act of Congress might or might not be repugnant to

the provisions of the Constitution. If Kentucky and Virginia thought

they possessed the power in regard to the alien and sedition laws now

claimed by Carolina in regard to the Tariff, where is the ordinance

nullifying those laws? Or would they be nullified by resolutions

expressing only the judgment and opinion of the Legislature in regard to

the constitutionality of the law, as if the Legislature, one department

only of the Government of a single State, could annul all the laws of

the Union? Even South Carolina does not urge a doctrine so monstrous,

for she declares this can be done solely by the 'delegates' of the State

in 'solemn convention.' South Carolina finds, then, in the practice of

Virginia and Kentucky, no warrant for the doctrine of nullification. She

finds neither ordinance, nor test oaths, nor standing armies, nor packed

juries, nor secession, or threats of secession, from the Union. They

find Mr. Jefferson in that great emergency protesting against 'a

scission of the Union,' in any event; and the ordinance of South

Carolina would have received his unqualified abhorrence. But, if we are

asked to surrender the principles which alone can preserve the Union, on

the assumed authority of Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Madison, of Kentucky and

of Virginia--why do not the advocates of nullification tell us that Mr.

Jefferson, in 1821, as appears by his printed memoirs, emphatically

denied the right of a State to _veto_ an act of Congress; and Mr.

Madison, a surviving founder of the Constitution, and framer of the

Virginia resolutions, unequivocally denounces the doctrine of

nullification? And are they not safer guides than Messrs. McDuffie,

Calhoun, and Hamilton, the former of whom wrote and published in 1821,

and the latter deliberately sanctioned, in a laudatory preface, a series

of essays, denouncing this very doctrine of nullification as the

'_climax_ of political heresies'? Why do not those who would look to

Kentucky and Virginia as the only safe expositors of the Constitution

inform us also, that the great and patriotic commonwealth of Kentucky is

indignantly repelling the charge that nullification ever was sustained

by her authority? Why do they not point to the unanimous resolution of

the Virginia Legislature in 1810, declaring in the very case of a

nullification, by a law of Pennsylvania, of a power of the General

Government, that the Supreme Court of the Union is the tribunal,

'already provided by the Constitution of the United States, to decide

disputes between the State and Federal' authorities?' (See 'Sup. Rev.

Code of Virginia,' page 150.) These resolutions, directly affirming the

supremacy of the judgment of the Supreme Court of the Union over the

laws and judgment of a State, were adopted by Virginia within a few

months after the promulgation by that tribunal of its decree enforcing

the authority of the Union against the nullifying edict of a sovereign

State. Virginia did more: she not only affirmed the power of this

tribunal, and sanctioned its decree, but spoke of it in terms of the

highest eulogy, and scouted indignantly the proposition of Pennsylvania

to vest the right of deciding questions of disputed power and

sovereignty in some other tribunal than the Supreme Court of the Union.

The same proposition was treated with the open or silent contempt of

every State in the Union, South Carolina among the number; and

Pennsylvania receded, though she had passed a law commanding the

Governor of the State to prevent by an armed force the execution of the

process emanating under the authority of the Constitution of the

Union--though she placed her act upon the same ground as Carolina, that

the power exercised in that case had never been granted by the

Constitution to any department of the General Government. Thus ended

nullification in the keystone of the arch of the Union. That State,

which has ever sustained the Democracy of the South, in the election of

Jefferson, of Madison, and Monroe, and the cheering voice of whose

public meetings first called out as a candidate for the presidency the

patriot Chief Magistrate who now upholds the banner of the Union,

submitted to the law of the Union. And is nullification constitutional

in Carolina, but unconstitutional in Pennsylvania? Is the one a

_sovereign_ and the other a _subject_ State? Shall the one submit to the

laws of the Union, and not the other? Why, sir, if the people of

Pennsylvania could sustain a distinction so odious, the very shades of

their ancestors would rise from the battlefields of the Revolution, from

Paoli and Germantown, and call their children bondmen of Carolina,

vassals and recreant slaves! I speak not now of the whiskey

insurrection, when, at the order of Washington, the militia of Virginia

and of other States moved against the people of Western Pennsylvania,

under the command of the Governor of Virginia and Carolina, and the

nation approved the deed; but I speak of the period, during the

presidency of Mr. Jefferson, when the State of Pennsylvania passed a law

nullifying the powers of the General Government, under her reserved

right to construe the Constitution at her pleasure, when she was

compelled to yield to the laws of the Union, and her armed force,

assembled by her Governor under an edict of the State, was ineffectual.

Nullification was condemned by Jefferson and Madison, by Virginia and

Carolina, and the people of the Union; and must one State nullify and

not another? No, sir; all or none of the States must submit to the

supremacy of the Government of the Union; and if Carolina can

successfully resist that Government, will any other State submit to a

power which is thus insulted, disgraced, defied, and overthrown by the

edict of a single State, and which acts and exists only by its

permission? No, sir; one successful example of practical nullification

by a State destroys the Union; for it demonstrates that the Government

of the Union has no power to execute its laws, or preserve its

existence--_that it is not a government_, or that its powers are written

in sand, to be swept away by the first angry surge of passion that beats

over them. Such was the prediction of the despots of Europe, too soon to

be fulfilled if the fatal ordinance of Carolina is sustained, and the

flag of the Union struck down by the imperious mandate of a single

State. Let us, then, now teach those despots, who, pointing with

exultation to our dissensions, and anticipating our downfall, proclaim

that man is incapable of self-government, that the Union can and shall

be preserved, that we know that 'Union and Liberty are inseparable,'

that the name and privileges of American citizens are entwined with the

very ligaments of our hearts, that they are our birthright, the glorious

inheritance purchased by the blood of our forefathers, and never to be

surrendered by their sons; that we will all rally round the banner of

our country and sustain it, upon the ocean, on the land, in war and in

peace, against foreign or domestic enemies; or, if it must fall, it will

be upon the graves of Americans preferring death in its defence to life

without it, when the iron chains of despotism would bind them as slaves

to that soil which they would tread only as freemen.

It is said that the Government of the Union is but a league formed by

sovereign States. Did the States form it as governments? if so, which or

all of the departments of any State subscribed or ratified the compact?

or could the government of any State change the organic law, unless by a

power given them by the Constitution, or surrender the sovereign

attributes of power, and unite the people in a new government with other

confederates? No; the government cannot abolish or change its form or

transfer its powers to another government: this highest act of

sovereignty can only be performed by the people of a State; and it was

by the people of every State, acting in convention as separate and

distinct communities, that the Constitution was ratified and rendered

binding upon the people of all the States; and, in the language of Mr.

Jefferson, the Government thus formed was 'authorized to act immediately

on the people and by its own officers.' Was it then a league only? No,

it was what its framers, the people, as we have seen, and not the

governments of all the States, called it, a 'Constitution'--a

'Government;' and it is an overthrow of fundamental principles to say

that a 'constitution,' a 'government,' which is made 'the supreme law'

in all the States, could be created by any power less than the people of

the several States, but as the people of the States, and not in their

aggregate capacity. Whatever may be the theories of the advocates of

consolidation on the one hand, or nullification on the other, this is

certainly a true history of the manner in which the Government of the

Union was formed. The Constitution itself expressly declares that it

could be created only by 'the ratifications of the conventions of the

States;' and this Constitution was expressly rendered 'the supreme law

of the land,' 'anything in the constitution or laws of any State to the

contrary notwithstanding,'--as if the government of a State could render

their own constitution subordinate to another constitution. A return

then having taken place, in forming the Constitution, to the people of

all the States, as the primary fountain of power, they might have vested

all their sovereignty, or but a part of it, in one government; and they

might have given, in either event, the same power which exists in

ordinary governments of enforcing its laws when sustained as

constitutional by all its departments, subject only to the natural

rights of the people to revolutionize the government in case of

intolerable oppression. Certain important powers and attributes of

sovereignty the people of the States gave to this new government. They

made this government 'supreme' in the exercise of its powers in all the

States. They gave this government the sole power 'to declare war.' Did

the State then remain an absolute sovereign in that respect, and with

absolute power to judge if the object of the war was constitutional, and

annul the declaration? This new government had the sole power to lay and

_collect_ 'duties on imports;' did each State remain an absolute

sovereignty in this respect, and with absolute powers to judge if the

object of the duties was constitutional, and annul the law? The General

Government was the only sovereign as regards these powers; but a single

State, having none of these powers, is made the absolute judge whether

they can or cannot be exercised: then no powers have yet been granted to

the General Government by any State, if each possesses the right to

interdict the exercise of any of these powers. But, could this General

Government exist without the authority to give one uniform effect to the

execution of its powers in all the States? Created with all the organs

of a government, legislative, judicial, and executive, may it enact, but

not expound, or enact and expound, but not execute? Must it stop at the

boundary of each State, and ask what power it possesses, and act upon

the contradictory responses of each State? Must it possess one set of

powers in one State, and another and wholly opposite set of powers in

another State? May it lay a tariff in one State, and not in another, and

yet this tariff required to be uniform in every State? Is it one

constitution, and susceptible of one only true construction, or

twenty-four constitutions, with twenty-four various and contradictory

constructions, and all right, because all pronounced by absolute

sovereigns exercising the uncontrolled power of ultimate judgment? Has

it any powers, and what are they? Will Mississippi submit this question

to Massachusetts or Carolina, or is a government created whose powers

cannot be ascertained? Must anarchy govern? Can there be no decision, or

is that of a single State, or of a small minority of the States, to

sweep away the legislation of a majority, or two thirds of the States?

According to the new theory, each State has the constitutional power in

the first instance, and one fourth in the last resort, to judge what

powers each State may exercise, and the other States must submit. Now,

this is impossible, where the legislation of the two States is

contradictory; and, if possible, is not a mere negative, but a positive

power. It is a government without limitation of power, in a single

State, aided by one fourth of the States--a government by which the

minority may control the majority in all cases whatsoever. Thus,

Carolina frames any law or ordinance she thinks she may lawfully do in

the exercise of her reserved rights. She gives clearances for vessels,

for instance, to introduce all imports free of all duties. When once

introduced into Carolina, she has, or claims and exercises the right

under the Constitution of introducing these imports free of all duties

into every other State in the Union. Two thirds of the States have

passed an act of Congress imposing certain duties on foreign imports: as

separate States they can pass no such laws, having surrendered that

power in the Constitution of the Union. Can Carolina compel them to

receive all foreign imports free of all duties? Yet she says this is one

of her reserved rights, and she may forever constitutionally exercise

it, in defiance of an act of Congress passed by two thirds of the

States. Such a government would be an oligarchy of the most odious and

detestable character. The right of the people of any State, or of any

portion of them, to meet intolerable oppression by revolution is

certain; but, in Mr. Jefferson's rough draught of the Kentucky

resolutions (now attempted to be substituted for his deliberate

conclusions as contained in the resolutions themselves), does he

advocate nullification by a single State as a _constitutional_ remedy,

by a State remaining in the Union and submitting only to such laws as it

deemed valid. No; it was not as a _constitutional_, but as a 'NATURAL

right,' that Mr. Jefferson spoke of nullification by the people of a

State. I say the people, for Mr. Jefferson well knew that the '_natural_

right' of a State to nullify, as an artificial body politic, would be a

contradiction in terms. This '_natural_ right' is a _personal_, as

contradistinguished from a _State_ right; it is inalienable--it is

neither given nor reserved by constitutional compacts--it exists in

citizens of every State, the minority as well as the majority, and not

in the government of any one State. But the exercise of this right is

_revolution_--it is a declaration of independence--it is _war_, and

appeals to the sword as its umpire. Let no State, then, claim to stand

on the basis of the Constitution of the Union, while stripping it of its

vital powers, or setting up its will for law. No, the ordinance of

Carolina is not a peaceful, constitutional remedy: it is a nullification

of the Government itself, sweeping away its revenues, its courts, and

its officers; it is a repeal of the Union; it is despotic; it is

revolutionary; it is belligerent; it is a declaration of war or separate

independence. It looks beyond a repeal of the Tariff; for, whether the

Tariff be repealed or not, it asks to engraft the doctrine of

nullification as a permanent feature of the Constitution, applicable in

every case in which any State may deem any act of Congress

unconstitutional. Then each one of the States may take up the volumes

containing all the acts of Congress, and repeal them all by one sweeping

edict of nullification; for there is no limitation to the exercise of

the power but her own will. It is said no State will abuse the power;

but if a majority of the States, by their representatives in Congress,

may abuse delegated powers, is there no danger that one of these same

States, by their representatives at home, may mistake the nature of

their powers, and endanger the Union by a usurpation of power? Or do the

same people, and voting at the same period in any State, elect men to

Congress who will violate, and to the councils of the State, who will

uniformly preserve the Constitution? A State declared the last war

unconstitutional: must the war be nullified, or, by the new theory,

suspended, till, by a slow and tedious process, its constitutionality be

affirmed by three fourths of the States? But, in the mean time, all

hostile operations must cease, our army be disbanded, our navy recalled,

and no further supplies decreed of money, ammunition, or men. And when

one State thus nullifies any act of Congress, she is not required to be

sustained by the vote of any other State: the one fourth are only

required to refuse to act--to remain neutral--if they consider the act

of Congress inexpedient, although they believe it constitutional.

Suppose the New-England States, after the war was pronounced

unconstitutional by a single State, had refused to call a convention to

amend the Constitution, or, if called, to grant the disputed power; then

the war must have been abandoned, the minority must govern, and our

country be disgraced, our seamen permitted to be pressed from the very

decks of our vessels into foreign service, and the maritime despotism of

Britain established without even a struggle in defence of our liberties.

Shall opposition to the Tariff betray us into the support of doctrines

so utterly subversive of the Constitution, and inconsistent with the

existence of any government of the Union?

Once this power was threatened to be assumed by Massachusetts, now by

South Carolina, and how and by what State it will next be exercised, or

what vital power it may next strike from the Constitution, it is

impossible to predict; but, if permitted in one State, it will be

exercised by all, till not a vestige remains of the Constitution of the

Union. Suppose the Tariff repealed by Congress, nullification may annul

the repealing law. Louisiana may, in the exercise of her right of

ultimate judgment, declare that the repealing law is unconstitutional,

upon the pretext that it destroys rights vested by the first law and

violates the plighted faith of the Government, insist on the collection

of duties under the first law, pass her ordinance, array her State

officers against those of the Union, and thus destroy the commerce of

Mississippi, and of all the Western States, or compel the collection of

the present duties. Or she may say that, if Congress possesses no power

to lay duties which will operate an incidental protection, Louisiana

possesses the reserved right of imposing duties for that purpose; that

each State possessed it before it became a member of the Union; that

duties for revenue only can be collected by the General Government, and

that the residuary power to lay duties for protection is one of the

powers of a sovereign State; that she will exercise it, and impose

protecting duties on imports, and thus we shall have various and

conflicting State tariffs from Maine to Louisiana (the very object which

the Constitution was designed to prevent); but if Louisiana alone adopt

the measure, the commerce of the West is prostrate at her feet.

It is in the name of liberty and to protect minorities, that

nullification professes to act; while in its first ordinance it sweeps

away the dearest rights of a large minority of the people of Carolina,

and binds the freedom of conscience in adamantine chains. It deprives

American citizens of that last and hitherto sacred refuge from

oppression, a trial by an impartial jury, and requires the very judges

upon the bench and jurors within the box to be sworn to condemn the

unhappy man whose only crime was this: that he claimed the Government of

the Union as his birthright, and acknowledged the duty of obedience to

its laws. Such are the opening scenes of nullification; and, if not

arrested, where or how will the drama close? In all the horrors of civil

war. Turn your eyes upon the scenes of the French Revolution, and behold

them about to be reacted within the limits of a sister State. Already

nullification calls upon its twelve thousand bayonets; friend is rising

against friend, and brother against brother, under the banner of

Carolina on the one side, of the Union on the other; the inflammable

materials are ready, the spark approaches, the explosion may soon take

place, and the genius of liberty, rising in anguish from the

bloodstained fields of Carolina, spread her pinions, and wing her way

forever from a world, on one side of whose waters despotism reigns

triumphant, and, upon the other, anarchy, with one foot upon the scroll

of the Declaration of American Independence, and with the other upon the

broken tablet of the Constitution of the Union, shall wave that sceptre,

whereon shall be inscribed the motto, never to be effaced: 'Man is

incapable of self-government.' Yes, this is the best, the brightest, the

last experiment of self-government: universal _freedom_ or universal

_bondage_ is staked on the result of the success or failure of the

American Union; and as it shall be maintained and perpetuated, or broken

and dissolved, the light of liberty shall beam upon the hopes of

mankind, or be forever extinguished, amid the scoffs of exulting tyrants

and the groans of a world in bondage. Rising, then, above all minor

considerations, and lifting our souls to the contemplation of that lofty

eminence on which Heaven itself has vouchsafed to place the American

people, as the only guardians of the hopes and liberties of mankind, let

us act as becomes the depositaries of that sacred fire which burns on

the altars of the American Union, and resolve that this Union shall be

preserved, all whole and inviolate, as we received it from the hands of

our forefathers.

But, if nullification is not a constitutional remedy, we are told that

_secession_ is; and a few, who deny the one, admit the other; and our

venerable chief magistrate (Jackson) has been proclaimed as a

Federalist, because he denies the right of secession; and many of his

supporters, although some may not concur in every argument by which he

arrives at his conclusions, but concur in the conclusions themselves,

are visited with a similar denunciation. Sir, the President is one of

the fathers and founders of the Democratic party--one of its earliest

and most steadfast supporters, in defeat and triumph, in war and in

peace, in sunshine and in storm. In the Senate of the United States he

voted against the alien law, and was a zealous advocate of the

principles which resulted in the election of Mr. Jefferson, and the

great political revolution of 1800; and if any one man has done more to

support all the just rights of the States than General Jackson, that man

is not known to me. It is now nearly ten years since I had the honor to

propose the name of this illustrious patriot to the first meeting of a

portion of the Democracy of Pennsylvania as a candidate for the

presidency, and I will not hear him denounced as a Federalist without,

at least, an effort in his defence. Who made the right of secession as a

constitutional right of every State an article in the creed of the

Democratic party, and by what authority? By what reasoning is

nullification denounced, and secession supported, as a constitutional

remedy? If there be any real difference, the former is check, and the

latter a check-mate, to the movements of the Government of the Union.

The same reasoning demonstrates the fallacy of nullification or

secession, with equal clearness and certainty. A State cannot nullify a

law of the Union, because the _Constitution_ and _laws_ of the State are

made _subordinate_ to the Constitution and laws of the Union, by a

compact to which the people of each State were one party, and bound

themselves to the people of all the other States, as the other party.

One State cannot change the compact, or any of its terms or provisions,

yet it may rescind the compact at pleasure! It would be abuse of

language to call such an instrument a _compact_, because it would be

obligatory upon none. Without the constitutional right to nullify a law

of Congress by the ultimate judgment of the State against it, how could

the constitutional power of secession arise? It is said, from a

violation of the Constitution of the Union by the General Government;

but if a State has not, as the opponents of nullification admit, any

right to pass ultimate judgment on the constitutionality of an act of

Congress, how can it make the supposed violation of the Constitution by

the General Government the basis of the act of secession? The preamble

of the ordinance on which the State would rest its act of secession, by

asserting the unconstitutionality of an act of Congress, would be swept

away by the non-existence of a power in a single State to pronounce

ultimate judgment upon the acts of the Government of the Union; and the

preamble and ordinance of secession would fall together. Thus, when

Carolina, in her ordinance, first declares certain acts of Congress

unconstitutional, and proceeds, with the same ordinance, to

nullification first, and then to secession, we deny her constitutional

right to nullify or secede for the same reason; because the right

declared by her ordinance to render an act of Congress unconstitutional

by the judgment of a single State is a usurpation of power. Governor

Hayne, of Carolina, in his late proclamation, inquires if that State was

linked to the Union 'in the iron bonds of a perpetual Union.' These

bonds were not of iron, or Carolina would have never worn them, but they

are the enduring chain of peace and Union. One link could not be severed

from this chain, united in all its parts, without an entire dissolution

of all the bonds of union; and one State cannot dissolve the union among

all the States. Yet Carolina admits this to be the inevitable

consequence of the separation of that State; for, in the address of her

convention, she declares that 'the separation of South Carolina would

inevitably produce a _general dissolution of the Union_.' Has the

Government of the Union no power to _preserve itself from destruction_,

or must we submit to a 'general dissolution of the Union' whenever any

one State thinks proper to issue the despotic mandate? It was the

declared object of our ancestors, the hope of their children, that they

had formed 'a PERPETUAL Union.' The original compact of Carolina with

her sister States, by which the confederacy was erected, is called

'Articles of Confederation and _perpetual_ Union.' In the thirteenth

article of this confederacy, it is expressly declared that 'the Union

shall be _perpetual_;' and in the ratification of this compact, South

Carolina united with her sister States in declaring: 'And we do further

solemnly plight and engage the faith of our respective constituents'

that 'the Union _shall be perpetual_;' and may she now withdraw this

pledge without a violation of the compact? By the old confederacy, then,

the Union was _perpetual_; and the declared object of the Constitution

was to form 'a more perfect Union' than that existing under the former

confederacy. Now, would this Union be more perfect under the new than

the old confederacy, if by the latter the Union was perpetual, but,

under the former, limited in its duration at the will of a single State?

The advocates of secession claim the constitutional power for each State

to annul, not only any law which the State may deem unconstitutional,

but to abolish the Constitution itself as the law of the State. Now, by

this Constitution, Carolina granted certain powers to the General

Government: may she constitutionally alter or revoke the grant, in a

manner repugnant to the provisions of that Constitution? That instrument

points out the mode in which it may be changed or abrogated, and by

which the several States may assume all or any of the powers granted to

the General Government, namely, by the conjoint action of three fourths

of the States. What, then, are the powers reserved to the State? The

ninth article of the Constitution of the Union declares that 'the powers

not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited

by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the

people.' Then the powers delegated to the United States were not

reserved to the States or to the people. What is the meaning of the

clause 'or to the people,' as contradistinguished from 'the States'?

Does it mean that any of this mass of undefined powers, but embracing

all not granted to the General Government, was reserved to the people of

the United States in the aggregate? Then there would exist, and does now

exist, a consolidated despotism. No, it was to the _people_ of each

State the reservation was made. Then it follows, as a necessary

consequence, that none of the powers granted to the General Government

were reserved either to the States or the people of any State. That is,

so far as the people of any one State had granted, by their own separate

constitution, to the State government any powers not delegated to the

General Government, the government of the State might exercise these

powers, and so far as any of these undelegated powers were not granted

to the State government, by the people of the State, they were reserved

to the people of each State. Now, one of the powers reserved to the

people of each State is to change their form of State government, and

resume the powers granted by it. But we have seen that neither the

government or people of a State could resume 'the powers delegated to

the United States,' because it was not one of the rights reserved to

either. What! I am asked, cannot the people of a State abolish their

form of government? Yes, in two modes: one in accordance with the

Constitution, and the other by a revolution. Could the people of

Carolina or Mississippi change or abolish their State constitution,

except in the mode prescribed by that instrument, unless by a

revolution? And the same power, the people of Carolina, that formed for

them their State constitution, ratified and rendered obligatory upon

them the Constitution of the Union; and can the one and not the other be

abolished, except by a revolution, in any other mode than that

prescribed by the Constitution? No; the people of Carolina, and of all

the States, as distinct communities, in ratifying the Constitution of

the Union, rendered it binding upon the people of every State, by the

declaration that 'this Constitution shall be the supreme law of the

land, and that the judges in every State shall be bound thereby,

anything in the Constitution or laws of any State to the contrary

notwithstanding.' Here we see the distinction between the State and the

people of the State again recognized and confirmed, and the 'State,' by

its 'laws,' and the people of the State, by the formation of a

constitution, expressly prohibited from arresting the operation of the

Constitution of the United States, as 'the supreme law of the land,' 'in

every State.' If Carolina secede, she must form a constitution, by which

she will assume the powers granted to the General Government, and vest

them in the government of the State. Here she would be met by the former

act of the people of Carolina, declaring that they had abandoned the

power to form for themselves a constitution by which the Constitution of

the Union would cease within their limits to be 'the supreme law of the

land.' Nor did the framers of the Constitution mean to say only that the

then existing Constitutions of the States ratifying the compact should

be subordinate to the Constitution of the Union; for then, also, only

the existing laws of any State were required to be subordinate to the

Constitution of the Union; but both are placed on the same basis. The

power of a State to nullify by its laws, or secede by forming a new

constitution, are both denied in the same clause and sentence of the

American Constitution. The language is clear, that the Constitution of

the Union shall be 'the supreme law of the land,' and 'binding in every

State,' 'anything in the Constitution or laws of any State to the

contrary notwithstanding.' The terms are '_shall be_;' it is the

language of command, it is prospective, it was binding when subscribed,

now, and forever. Or, was Carolina never bound by this compact, and

might she, the very day after it was ratified by her people, disregard

it altogether, secede, and establish a constitution directly repugnant

to the Constitution of the Union? If so, written constitutions are worse

than useless; they are not obligatory, there is no penalty for their

violation; obedience to them cannot be enforced; there is no government

but that of opinion, fluctuating and uncertain, undefined and

undefinable, which is paramount to the fundamental law. This is what the

_despots of Europe_ call our government, and why they _predict_ its

downfall--a prediction now in the course of fulfilment, if these

anarchical principles can be recognized as the doctrines of the

Constitution.

There is no difference between the doctrines or acts of Jefferson and

Jackson on this subject. Both admit nullification or secession as a

revolutionary measure; and the new doctrine of suspending a law by a

nullifying edict finds not the remotest support from Mr. Jefferson. In

his celebrated draught of the Kentucky resolutions, so much relied on by

Carolina, we have seen, he speaks of these powers of the people of any

State as 'a _natural_ right,' and so is revolution; and the cases to

which he refers are such as render a revolution unavoidable, namely, if

Congress pass an act 'so palpably against the Constitution as to amount

to an undisguised declaration that the compact is not meant to be the

measure of the powers of the General Government.' Is there now such a

case? if there is, revolution is justifiable. Why then ask any other

remedy than revolution for a case where revolution would be unavoidable?

And SECESSION IS REVOLUTION. But did Mr. Jefferson mean to say that

whenever any State should place its laws or Constitution, by

nullification or secession, in opposition to the laws of the General

Government, that the power of the General Government must not be

exerted? The very reverse. The act of Congress of the 3d of March,

1807, signed and approved by Mr. Jefferson as President, expressly

authorizes the President of the United States to 'employ such part of

the land and naval force of the United States as may be necessary' to

execute 'the laws of the United States.' Does this mean, as General

Hayne tells us in his proclamation, to execute the laws against

insurgents not sustained by any law of the State? No; this act was

passed at the very time when Pennsylvania was proceeding, by virtue of a

law of the State, to execute, by an armed force, the mandate of the

State in opposition to the mandate of the Federal authorities; and the

officer of Pennsylvania, acting under the mandate of the Governor and a

positive law of the State, was condemned for executing a law of the

State opposed to the mandate of the General Government, and only escaped

punishment by the pardon of President Madison: and thus falls the very

basis of the doctrine of nullification. Here is a commentary by Messrs.

Jefferson and Madison, demonstrating their entire concurrence with our

present Chief Magistrate. And, if any further evidence of Mr.

Jefferson's views were wanting, it is to be found in his letters,

already referred to, protesting against a separation of the Union, and

denying the right of a State to '_veto_' an act of Congress; and in many

other letters to be found in his memoirs, insisting upon the power even

of the old confederacy to exercise 'COERCION over its delinquent

members,' the States. 'Compulsion,' he says, 'was never so easy as in

our case, where a single frigate would levy on the commerce of a State

the deficiency of its contributions; nor more safe than in the hands of

_Congress_, which has _always_ shown that it would wait, as it ought to

do, to the last extremities, before it would exercise any of its powers

which are disagreeable.' Here, then, we find Mr. Jefferson most

distinctly admitting the power of Congress under the old, as in 1807 he

admitted under the present confederacy, to _compel a State_ by FORCE to

obey the laws of the Union. Why, then, is General Jackson denounced as a

tyrant, for doing that which his oath and the Constitution compel him to

do? Suppose any State, by its ordinance, should arrest the passage of

the mail through their limits, upon the pretext that the law was

unconstitutional; the acts of Congress place at the disposal of the

President the militia of any one or all of the States, or 'the land or

naval force of the United States', to _execute the law of the Union in

every State, by whomsoever resisted or opposed_. The Constitution and

his oath command him to execute the laws; he must execute them, and the

mail must pass on, though the edict of a single State should attempt to

arrest it by nullification or secession. Such, too, was the opinion of

Mr. Jefferson; and that illustrious patriot would have laid his head on

the block, and blessed the hand that severed it from his body, rather

than sever the Union by the promulgation of the doctrines now ascribed

to him. What are the consequences of this right of a State to secede

from the Union?--this right of revolution, without the power of the

General Government to _preserve the Union_? Any one State may arrest,

to-morrow, the mail of the Union, and its passage from State to State,

and refuse it a passage forever. Pennsylvania, a central State, may

separate the North from the South, prevent all intercommunication,

render our country a republic divided and indefensible. Louisiana,

purchased by taxes imposed upon the people of all the States, may secede

and establish a separate and independent government, lay protective or

prohibitory imposts on the imports and exports of this State and of the

West, carried through her ports and the outlets of the Mississippi. She

might say, I will protect my own cotton planters, by prohibitory duties

on the cotton of Mississippi or the West, or the imports designed to be

exchanged for it, shipped through my ports or through the outlet of the

Mississippi: it is my interest to do so; for thus I can deprive the

cotton planters of Mississippi and the West of a market; thus compel

them to abandon the culture of that staple, and sell my own cotton at a

higher price. Louisiana asserts no such doctrines; but, if she did,

could Mississippi, could the West admit them? and, in the last resort,

would not the Government _force_ a passage for our imports and exports

by the _sword_? Yes; for as well might you take the heart from the human

body and bid it live, as sever Louisiana from the States that border on

the Mississippi, and bid these States to prosper. No; Louisiana holds

the outlet of that stream through which the life blood of their commerce

and industry must forever flow; and we never could admit her right to

secede from the Union, and dictate the terms on which we should use the

outlet of that stream, whose banks were destined by heaven itself as the

residence of a united people. Not only Louisiana, but State by State

that borders on the Atlantic or the Gulf, might secede, seclude the West

from the ocean, and render them the tributaries of the seaboard States,

by laying prohibitory duties on their imports and exports. Could we

submit to this? _Not while the West contained a gun to use, or a man to

shoulder it._

And may Carolina secede and establish an independent government? Did she

establish her own independence? No, it was achieved by the arms and

purchased by the blood of Americans, with the banner of the Union

floating over them. I know the valor of Carolina, that, man to man, she

is invincible; but, unaided and alone, she would have fallen in the

Revolution. She would have fallen gloriously, her soil would have drunk

the blood of her children; but still she must have fallen in the unequal

contest. When Carolina was made the battlefield of the Revolution, from

the very rock of Plymouth and the heights of Bunker Hill, from

Pennsylvania, from Virginia, American citizens flew to her rescue. Side

by side with Carolina's sons they marched beneath the banner of the

Union; they fought, they conquered; Carolina was redeemed from bondage,

but upon her many and well-fought fields was mingled the blood and

repose the ashes of our common ancestors, the pledges of our Union in

victory and in death.

Shades of these departed patriots! arise, and say to the sons of

Carolina, it was the Union that made you free. Without it, you would yet

be subjects, colonial vassals, and slaves; without it, the chains are

now forging that will bind you to the thrones of despots. And could we

stand with folded arms, and behold the Union dissolved? Could we see the

seventeen thousand freemen of Carolina, who cling with the grasp of

death to the banner of the Union, deprived of their privileges as

American citizens, proscribed, disfranchised, expelled from all offices,

civil and military, driven by glittering bayonets from the bench and the

jury box, tried and convicted by judges and jurors sworn to condemn,

attainted as traitors, torn from the last embraces of wives and

children, consigned to the scaffold or the block, or immured within the

walls of a dungeon, where the light of heaven or liberty should never

visit them, with no consolation but their patriotism, and no companions

but their chains? And, gracious Heaven, for what? Oh! Liberty, when was

thy sacred temple profaned by deeds like this? Thy martyrs suffered only

for clinging to the banner of the American Union. And could we see them

torn from around that sacred banner, and move not to their rescue? No;

the glow that beams on every countenance, the patriot's answer that

speaks from every throbbing breast, proclaims that, as in '76 our

fathers marched to free their sires from tyrants' power, so would their

children go, to save from death or bondage Carolina's friends of

union--with them, beneath the standard of our common country, to die or

conquer.

Citizens of Mississippi, to you the address of the nullifying convention

of Carolina makes a special appeal. It asks, if Carolina secedes from

the Union, 'Can it be believed that Georgia, Mississippi, Tennessee, and

even Kentucky would continue to pay a tribute of fifty per cent. upon

their consumption to the Northern States for the privilege of being

united to them, when they could receive all their supplies through the

ports of South Carolina, without paying a single cent for tribute?' To

this question, Georgia has already answered, by expressing her

'abhorrence' of the doctrine of nullification, her firm resolve to

adhere to the Union. Tennessee has made the same response. Kentucky, in

a voice of thunder, answers, _No_, we will preserve the Union as it is.

And will Mississippi receive the bribe thus offered to dissolve the

Union? What is it? The privilege of exchanging our exports for imports

free of duty, in the ports of Carolina; and then would Carolina pay the

taxes to raise and maintain an army, or a navy, and protect our

commerce? But if she could, nature pronounces the project impracticable.

Our commerce must flow through the outlet of the Mississippi; and how

would our exports reach the ports of Carolina--how would our imports

thence be received? Through the outlet of the Mississippi? No, that

outlet and its ports would then be in the hands of Louisiana--in that

event, to us a hostile foreign government, from which we had severed

ourselves. For let it not be forgotten that Louisiana is not even

invited to join this new confederacy; and if she were, is announcing her

unalterable determination to adhere to the Union as it is. Then, through

the outlet of the Mississippi our commerce could not be carried on with

the ports of Carolina; for Louisiana, as we have seen before, would meet

and stop our exports and imports with prohibitory duties. Would we move

up the Mississippi or Ohio to reach the ports of Carolina, or any other

market? There we would find the confederates from whom we had severed;

we would find a foreign government, and prohibitory duties would exclude

our access to Carolina's ports in that direction. How would we reach

them? The only other route, if Georgia and Alabama would grant the boon

for Carolina's benefit, would be to pass through those States by land to

Charleston, with our cotton, and return by land with the imports

received in exchange. A trip of one thousand miles by wagon road with

cotton! The entire value of the crop would not pay for its

transportation. Is this the proposition of Carolina? What is the only

commerce we could carry on with her? By abandoning the culture of cotton

upon our fertile lands, for the benefit of Carolina, and our planters

all becoming drovers of horses, mules, and cattle, to exchange for her

imports, and return with them, packed on the number unsold of our mules

and horses. And are these the benefits for which we are asked to

dissolve the Union, and place the channel of the Mississippi above and

below, and its outlet, in the hands of a foreign government, denying a

passage ascending or descending, to our imports or exports, and

excluding us from the ocean altogether? If Carolina's scheme were

practicable, Mississippi would not sell the Union for dollars and cents;

but though the scheme might be beneficial to Carolina, by stopping the

culture of cotton on our fertile soil, to the people of this State it is

ruin immediate and inevitable. The remedy Carolina proposes to us for

the Tariff, is worse than the disease. The disease is not mortal--it is

now in a course of cure; but Carolina's remedy is death--it is suicide;

for the _dissolution of the Union is political suicide_.

A Southern convention is proposed, of the States of North and South

Carolina, Tennessee, Virginia, Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi. If

the object be a confederacy of these States, without Louisiana and the

Western, Middle, and Northern States, if patriotism, or love for the

Union were insufficient to restrain us from attempting this fatal

measure, we have seen that it would blast forever the fortunes of the

planters of Mississippi. But what States will unite in this convention?

Georgia has disavowed the act of the self-constituted, self-elected

minority convention that acted in her name. The history of Virginia

speaks in the voice of indignant rebuke to all those States that

assemble sectional conventions. North Carolina, unassuming, but

steadfast in support of the Union, will enter into no such convention.

Alabama, if her public meetings and journals and her chief magistrate

speak the voice of the State, will send no delegates. Tennessee, brave

and patriotic, devoted to the Union, and sustaining its banner in war

and in peace, meets the proposition with a decided refusal. I imagine,

then, our delegates would return without finding this Southern

convention. I am opposed to all sectional conventions. We have had one

such convention, and, whatever the secret motives of its members may

have been, the very fact that it was a sectional convention, that it was

believed to be convened to calculate the value of the Union, that it was

supposed to have in view an Eastern confederacy, has sealed the doom of

its members and projectors. And when the calm shall follow the storm, a

similar fate awaits all who will go into this Southern convention. I

trust there never will be another partial convention, Northern,

Southern, Eastern, or Western; for, whether assembled at Hartford or

Columbia, they are equally dangerous to the Union of the States. They

create and inflame geographical parties. Could the North, assembled in

convention, have that full knowledge of the situation and wants of the

people of the South, as to legislate for them, and propose ultimatums to

which the South must submit, or leave the Union? Could the South possess

that full knowledge of the situation and wants and interests of the

people of all the other States, as to enable them to dictate the terms

on which the Union should be governed or dissolved? No; it is only in a

meeting of all the States, in Congress or convention, that that

knowledge of the wants and interests of all, and that fusion of

sentiment and opinion, and spirit of concession, can exist, in which the

Constitution was framed, and all its powers should be exercised.

If we hold Southern conventions, then will there be Northern, Eastern,

and Western conventions, and they will overthrow the Union. Partial

confederacies will first be formed, and then, as Mr. Jefferson most

truly tells us, would speedily follow the formation of a separate and

independent government by each State. What is it we are asked to

abandon, and for what? That Union which ushered in the morn of American

Liberty, and gave birth to the Declaration of Independence; which

carried our armies victoriously through the storms of the Revolution and

the last war, and now waves triumphantly in every sea, the kindred

emblem of our country's glory. It gave us Washington--it gave us

liberty, and bears our name aloft among the nations of the earth. It is

our only rampart in war--our only safeguard in peace, and under its

auspices we declared, achieved, maintained, and can alone preserve our

liberties. It is the only basis of our solid and substantial interests,

and the last star of hope to the oppressed of every clime. Shall we

calculate its value? No! for we will not estimate the value of

liberty--and 'liberty and union are inseparable.' Dissolve this Union,

and let each State become, as Mr. Jefferson truly tells us it would, a

separate government, could we preserve our liberties? Where would be the

army and navy and seamen of the State of Mississippi? how to be

procured, and how to be maintained and paid? Where would be her

ambassadors and treaties, her commerce--and through what ports and by

whose permission would she ship her exports or introduce her imports?

Who would respect her flag, who recognize her as a nation--and how would

she punish aggressions upon her rights, on the ocean or the land? No,

fellow citizens; the President truly tells us that 'separate

independence' is a 'dream'--a dream from which we would wake in bondage

or in death. But, if disgraced abroad, what would be our situation at

home, as separate bordering and hostile States--and how long could we

remain in peace and concord? The voice of history tells us--the

bloodstained fields of our sister republics of America proclaim, that

disunion would be the signal for WAR--a war of conquest, in which the

weak would fall before the power of the strong; and upon the ruins of

this now happy Union might arise the darkest despotism that ever crushed

the liberties of mankind, for it would be established and could only be

maintained by the bayonet. Perhaps, while yet the civil war should rage

with doubtful issue, while exhausted and bleeding at every pore, that

sanguinary alliance of despots, combined to crush the liberties of man,

would send its armies to our shores. Under what standard would we rally

to preserve our liberty? There would be no Union--without it there would

be no strength; and those who, united, could defy the world in arms,

divided would be weak and powerless. Such are the ultimate results of

disunion. Let us take the first step, and all may be lost forever. That

step is nullification by Carolina, then her secession--then, as she

truly tells us in her address, 'the separation of South Carolina would

inevitably produce a general dissolution of the Union.' And shall

Carolina dissolve the Union? No; the liberties of all the States are

embarked together, and if one State withdraw her single plank, the

national vessel must go down to rise no more, and shipwreck the hopes of

mankind. Let us then adjure the people of Carolina, by the ties of our

common country and common kindred--by the ruin and disgrace which civil

war will bring upon the victors and vanquished--by the untried horrors

of those scenes to which disunion must conduct, to repeal her ordinance,

and not to force upon us that dread alternative, in which we must

support the flag of our country, or surrender our Union and liberty

without a struggle: that we cannot, we will not, we dare not, surrender

them; and, if forced to draw the sword to defend our liberties, the

motto will gleam on every blade: 'The Union shall be preserved.' For

were it abandoned, life would not be a blessing, but a curse; and

happiest would those be whose eyes were closed in death ere they beheld

the horrors of those scenes to which with viewless and rapid strides we

seem to hasten. Well, fellow citizens, may our hearts be wrung with

sorrow on this occasion, in looking back to what we were, and forward to

what we may soon be. Well may the tears unbidden start, for they are the

tears that patriots shed over the departing greatness of our once

united, but now distracted and unhappy country.

THE SIOUX WAR.

Compared with the great storm of rebellion which has darkened and

overspread our whole national sky, the Indian war on our northwestern

frontier has been a little cloud "no bigger than a man's hand;" and yet,

compared with similar events in our history, it has scarcely a parallel.

From the days of King Philip to the time of Black Hawk, there has hardly

been an outbreak so treacherous, so sudden, so bitter, and so bloody,

as that which filled the State of Minnesota with sorrow and lamentation,

during the past summer and autumn, and the closing scenes of which are

even now transpiring. We were beginning to regard the poetry of the

palisades as a thing of the past, when, suddenly, our ears were startled

by the echo of the warwhoop, and the crack of the rifle, and our hearts

appalled by the gleam of the tomahawk and the scalping knife, as they

descended in indiscriminate and remorseless slaughter, on defenceless

women and children on our border.

In the year 1851, the Sisseton, Wahpeton, M'dewakanton and Wahpekuta

bands of Dacotah or Sioux Indians by treaty ceded to the United States,

in consideration of certain annuities to be paid them, all their lands

within the present limits of the States of Iowa and Minnesota, excepting

a reservation set apart for their habitation and use, embracing a narrow

strip along the southern side of the Minnesota River, of about ten miles

in width and one hundred and fifty in length. To this reservation these

four bands removed their people, numbering some seven thousand souls, of

whom, perhaps, twelve hundred were warriors. During the eleven years

which have elapsed since this treaty was made, they have lived there,

the State of Minnesota being meanwhile peopled by the whites with

unparalleled rapidity, and the Indians seeing flourishing and populous

settlements springing up all about them. With but a single interruption,

peace and amity has existed between the two races; missions, schools,

and to some extent, agriculture, have been established among them; and a

large number of halfbreeds, springing from marriages between white

traders and Sioux women, have formed, apparently, a link of

consanguinity and interest, which, aided by the influence and laws of

civilization, would hereafter prevent any trouble or bloodshed on the

part of the savages.

One single and very grave interruption to these peaceful relations has,

however, occurred. In March, 1857, Inkpadutah, a Wahpekuta Dacotah, with

a small band of followers, committed a terrible massacre near Spirit

Lake, in the northwestern corner of Iowa, slaying fifty persons, and

carrying away four women into captivity, two of whom were, after some

months, ransomed and restored to their friends, the other two having

been previously murdered by their captors. But Inkpadutah and his band

were outlaws, driven away by their own people for creating internal

dissensions; and although the perpetrators were never properly pursued

and punished, it was not thought that the outrage had been countenanced

by the rest of the nation, or that any danger existed of similar acts on

their part.

The cause of the recent outbreak cannot, perhaps, be absolutely

determined; the manner of its beginning is more easily traced. It must

be understood that, for the purpose of receiving their annuities, the

Indians, at a certain period every summer, come down from their hunting

grounds to the two Agencies, one at Redwood, near Fort Ridgely, and the

other at Yellow Medicine. It is the custom to keep a certain quantity of

provisions at these Agencies to feed them during these visits, and also

to sometimes send them supplies during times of great want and scarcity

of game in winter. Unfortunately, they came last year much earlier than

common, and before they had received their usual notification from the

Agent, that the annuities were awaiting them. In addition, as if all the

accidents were destined to be adverse, the session of Congress was very

long, the Appropriation Bill, which included the Indian appropriations,

did not pass until the day before the adjournment, and the immense

pressure of business on the Departments, and the great difficulty of

obtaining coin, all occasioned long and unusual delays. The coin,

$71,000 in silver (Indians understand silver coin, and will scarcely

take any other), was finally shipped by express from the sub-treasury in

New York city, on the 12th of August, reached St. Paul on the 16th, and

was immediately despatched by private conveyance to Yellow Medicine, via

Fort Ridgely, at which latter place it arrived on the 18th.

The Indians came down to the Agency at Yellow Medicine about the middle

of July, to the number of four thousand, men, women, and children. Here

they remained in waiting some three weeks. Provisions, in small

quantities, were given to them, but for so large a number of mouths the

rations were scanty. This supply, with the few wild ducks and pigeons

which they could shoot from time to time, the little flour they were

able to buy on credit from the trading houses, and the half-grown

potatoes they stole from the fields, enabled them to eke out a scanty

subsistence.

As might be readily imagined, this state of things bred great

discontent. On the morning of the 4th of August, a large number of

Indians came over from their encampment, and some on horseback, and some

on foot, with guns and hatchets, rushed to the door of the warehouse,

cut it down, and commenced carrying out bags of flour. The few soldiers

who were stationed at the Agency, were, as well as the Agent and

employes, taken completely off their guard by this movement; but in a

short time they recovered themselves; got a field piece loaded and

turned upon the crowd, and sent a squad of soldiers to the warehouse. At

these preparations, the Indians desisted; but the military force was too

small to make more than a formal demonstration. The pile of flour taken

out of the warehouse had not been carried away, and while the soldiers

prevented this being done, the Indians placed a guard to hinder its

being recovered by the whites. Thus they stood during the remainder of

the day, in an attitude of mutual defiance, yet neither party was

willing to inaugurate hostilities. The next morning, when the Indians

again as usual flocked down to the Agency, a couple of arrests were

promptly made by the guard. This had the effect of driving them all back

to their camps. Almost immediately afterward they struck their tents,

and removed to a distance of from two to four miles. This was looked

upon at the Agency as a war movement, and all possible defensive

preparations were at once made. Some of the women were sent away, guns

and pistols were loaded, field pieces and troops were placed in

position, and pickets were thrown out. Everything looked like war. Still

there had been no actual bloodshed. Through the mediation of Rev. Mr.

Riggs, who had long resided among them as a missionary, peaceful

counsels finally prevailed with the Indians. Thirty-six of the chiefs

met the Agent in council, smoked the pipe of peace, acknowledged their

offence, and expressed their sorrow and shame at its occurrence. Three

days afterward another council was held, in which they agreed to receive

certain rations, and promised to induce their people to move away until

the annuity money should arrive. The Agent, on his part, forgave their

trespass, and promised to send for them as soon as he should be prepared

to make their payment. So confident was he that the arrangement was

amicable and satisfactory, that he went soon afterward to St. Paul on

business, leaving his family at the Agency.

Things remained in this condition until Sunday, the 17th of August,

1862. On that day, four young Indians, belonging to Little Six's band,

went to the house of Mr. Jones, at Acton, Meeker county, Minnesota. As

they evinced an unfriendly disposition, Mr. Jones locked his house, and

with his wife, went to the house of Mr. Howard Baker, a near neighbor,

where he was followed by the Indians. They proposed to go out and shoot

at a mark, but after leaving the house, suddenly turned and fired upon

the party, mortally wounding Mr. and Mrs. Jones, Mr. Baker, and a Mr.

Webster. Mrs. Baker, with a young child, concealed herself in the cellar

and escaped. The Indians then returned to Jones' house, which they broke

into, killing a young woman who had been left there. This was the first

bloodshed of the war.

Up to this time there seems to have been no deliberate preparation, no

concerted arrangement for the outbreak against the whites. There was

excitement and discontent among the Indians on account of hunger, the

delay of their payment, and the real or supposed wrongs and frauds

committed by white traders and officials; but no organized hostile

movement had been agreed on. They knew that a great war was in progress

between the whites; that armies were being raised, and the country was

being drained of men. All this was known and discussed among them. There

are also grave suspicions, and not without considerable show of

evidence, that rebel emissaries, Indians or half breeds from the

Missouri border, had been among them fomenting the discord and urging

war.

When these four young men returned on the 18th to their band, which was

then with others at the Sioux Agency at Redwood, the recital of their

murders created the most intense excitement among the Indians. They

became infuriated at the idea of bloodshed. Before the whites were aware

that trouble was brewing, Little Six's, Little Crow's, Grey Iron's, and

Good Road's bands of M'dewakantons, and a part of the Lake Calhoun band,

gathered around the buildings, and, with a general rush and yell,

massacred the whites, some twenty-five in number, robbed and plundered

the stores, and laid the whole place in ashes.

The party who were conveying the annuity money to the Agency, reached

Fort Ridgely on the afternoon of the same day, and there learned that

the outbreak had taken place. A garrison of about seventy-five men was

in the fort at the time the news of the massacre reached it, and Captain

Marsh, taking fifty of them, proceeded toward the Agency, fifteen miles

up the river. In the evening twenty-one of the men returned, to tell

that the detachment had fallen into an ambush, and that all the others,

including the captain, were either killed or drowned.

The Indians seem to have at once despatched messengers with the news of

these hostilities to the bands at the Upper Sioux Agency, at Yellow

Medicine. The chiefs there immediately called their followers into

council. About one hundred Sissetons, Wahpetons, and thirty young

Yanktons, were present. The council was stormy, and divided in

sentiment; the Sissetons urging the killing and robbing of the whites,

saying the M'dewakantons had already gone so far that they could not

make matters worse, and that, as the whites would inflict punishment

upon all alike, the best thing to be done was to kill them and take

their goods. The Wahpeton chiefs, though willing to rob the whites,

insisted on sparing their lives, and sending them off with their horses

and wagons across the prairies.

About one fourth of the Sioux, previous to these events, had, through

the efforts of the Government and missionaries, renounced their savage

life, and adopted the customs of civilization. They had cut off

the hair, discarded the blanket, adopted the civilized costume,

and undertaken to live by the cultivation of the earth, instead

of the chase. One of the chiefs who joined in this reform was

An-pe-tu-to-ke-ca, or Other-Day, an Indian of more than ordinary

intelligence and ability. He had been much among the whites, and was a

convert to Christianity. Some years previous, while he was at Washington

city with a delegation of his tribe, a rather good-looking white woman,

who had lost caste in society, fell in love with him, married him, and

followed him to his Indian home in Minnesota.

Other-Day took part in this deliberation. He arose and addressed the

council, warning them against the consequences of the attack they were

meditating. They might succeed in killing a few whites, he told them,

but extermination or expulsion would be their fate if they did. But his

pacific arguments produced no effect. Toward evening, the Yanktons,

Sissetons, and a few of the Wahpetons rose from the council, and moved

toward the houses of the whites, to prepare for the attack. All the

afternoon the Indians had been busy taking their guns to the blacksmith

shop to have them repaired, which the unsuspecting smith, being told

they were going on a buffalo hunt, had done.

Other-Day now left the council, took his wife and his gun, and went to

warn the whites of the impending danger. They had, up to this time,

known nothing whatever of the council. At his suggestion, sixty-two

persons assembled in one of the Agency buildings, gathered their arms,

and prepared to defend themselves. Part of the farmer Indians assisted

Other-Day in standing guard round the house that night, part of them

guarded the house of Rev. Mr. Riggs, their old missionary, to whom they

were very much attached, and another part joined the insurgents.

Small bands of hostile Indians were seen prowling around the house

during the night, and by the next morning it was nearly surrounded. At

daybreak, several shots were fired near the warehouses, some distance

away, and then a triumphant yell was heard from the Indians as they

broke into the stores and killed the inmates. At this, the savages who

had prowled around the house during the night ran off to the scene of

the riot to share in the booty; and even the farmer Indians who had

stood guard for the whites, excepting only Other-Day, followed them.

Other-Day now advised the whites to make their escape, and offered to

pilot them out of danger. They were at first inclined to doubt his

faithfulness; but in their extremity, finally consented to follow him.

While the hostile Indians were occupied in the work of plundering the

stores and warehouses, the whites managed to collect three two-horse

wagons, and two buggies, and placing as many of the women and children

as they could in these, the party, sixty-two persons in all, started off

in a direction opposite to the usually travelled route. They reached and

forded the Minnesota River, eluded pursuit, and after a three days'

march of great severity and privation, under the faithful and successful

guidance of Other-Day, they arrived at a place of safety. True among the

treacherous, he should be gratefully remembered, and liberally rewarded

and protected for the remainder of his life, by the people of Minnesota

and the Government of the United States. When he reached St. Paul, after

the escape, he wrote the following, in answer to the many questions

asked him:

"I am a Dakota Indian, born and reared in the midst of evil. I grew

up without the knowledge of any good thing. I have been instructed

by Americans, and taught to read and write. This I found to be

good. I became acquainted with the Sacred Writings, and there

learned my vileness. At the present time, I have fallen into great

evil and affliction, but have escaped from it; and with fifty-four

men, women, and children, without moccasins, without food, and

without a blanket, I have arrived in the midst of a great people,

and now my heart is glad. I attribute it to the mercy of the Great

Spirit.

An-pe-tu-to-ke-ca.

(Other-Day.)"

Another party of about forty persons escaped from the vicinity of Yellow

Medicine, under the guidance of the missionary, Rev. Mr. Riggs, who was

also warned and aided by a few of the farmer Indians.

Having thus successfully attacked and destroyed the Lower Agency, at

Redwood, and the Upper Agency, at Yellow Medicine, and having obtained

large supplies of arms and ammunition from the stores and warehouses

they sacked at these points, part of the Indians divided into small

marauding bands, and scoured the country, attacking and murdering

isolated settlers, burning houses, and stealing horses and cattle; but

the larger portion remained together, and, under the leadership of

Little Crow, planned further attacks.

Fifteen miles below the Lower Agency, on the north bank of the

Minnesota, is Fort Ridgely; and twenty miles below the fort, on the

southern bank of the river, is the town of New Ulm, which, as its name

indicates, is mainly populated by German settlers. Early in the

afternoon of Tuesday, August 19th, a party of citizens from New Ulm,

returning from a neighboring village, where they had gone to aid in

recruiting volunteers for the Union army, were fired upon from an ambush

by a number of mounted Indians, and several of them killed. Those who

escaped had barely time to get back to New Ulm and give the alarm before

the Indians advanced upon the town, and began firing at long range upon

the distressed and panic-stricken inhabitants, who were huddled

together, in helpless confusion, in a few of the more protected houses.

Fortunately, a squad of eighteen armed men from one of the lower

counties had arrived there an hour or two previous. Only six of the

number had good guns; but they immediately organized themselves, and

went forward to meet the savages. By dint of determined coolness and

bravery, they held the Indians at bay, killing several of them, until,

seeing the town reenforced by another small party of mounted whites, the

savages retreated. The fight lasted two or three hours, and a number of

the Germans were killed.

Beaten back from New Ulm, the Indians retraced their course up the

river, and being joined by other bands, a concerted and deliberate

attack was next made on Fort Ridgely. Like too many of our frontier

forts, it is a fort only in name. Situated on a projecting spur of the

river bluff, it is almost completely encircled by deep and wooded

ravines, the edges of which are within a stone's throw of the buildings.

A long, two story stone building with an ell, standing in the centre,

and a number of log and frame houses ranged around it in an irregular

circle, with several barns and outhouses beyond them, constitute what is

called the fort, but what is really only barracks for a small number of

troops.

When on Monday Captain Marsh left the fort to quell the disturbances at

the Agency, only about twenty-five soldiers remained to protect it.

After his party was cut up in ambush, only twenty-one, wounded and all,

returned. Luckily, however, on Tuesday, two detachments of

reenforcements, of about fifty men each, reached the garrison in safety.

On the other hand, from the beginning of the outbreak, the women and

children of the surrounding country who had escaped massacre, sometimes

a whole family, sometimes only a single member--now a mother, and then a

child--fresh from the scenes of savage violence and blood, had been

fleeing to the fort for safety, until the number had been swelled to

some three hundred. Six cannon, a few old condemned muskets, and

considerable supplies of provisions were fortunately in the fort. Such

hurried preparations for defence as could be, were soon made. Small

squads of Indians were seen prowling about during Monday and Tuesday,

but they were promptly scattered by a shell from the howitzer,

accurately planted by the veteran artillery sergeant who was in charge

of the guns.

At a quarter past three o'clock on Wednesday afternoon, about three or

four hundred Indians, led by Little Crow, advanced under cover of the

woods and ravines to the attack of the garrison. It was a complete

surprise, the first announcement being a deadly volley through one of

the north entrances into the parade ground of the fort. For a moment

there was uncontrollable confusion and alarm among the whites, and had a

storming assault immediately followed, the fort must have fallen. The

garrison, however, quickly rallied, manned the guns, and poured a steady

fire on their assailants. The Indians, as usual, took shelter behind

every available cover--trees, ravines, outhouses, high grass and

logs--the whites directing their return shots as best they could. In

this way, a brisk fusilade was kept up until half-past six o'clock in

the evening. A number of the outbuildings were fired by the enemy, but

the flames did not reach the fort. The houses that remained nearer the

fort were destroyed by the garrison after the enemy withdrew. The

garrison lost twelve or fifteen men killed and wounded in this

engagement.

A night of terrible anxiety and suspense succeeded, but there was no

further disturbance. On the next day, Thursday, two more attacks, each

lasting about half an hour, were made, one at nine o'clock in the

morning, and the other at six in the evening, but they were much feebler

than the previous one, and easily repulsed.

The final and most desperate attack occurred on Friday, the

twenty-second. The garrison was engaged in strengthening its defences,

when, at one o'clock in the afternoon, the sentinel saw at two miles

distance great numbers of Indians approaching on horseback. As they

neared the fort they dismounted, and advancing from three different

points under cover of the ravines, where the shells from the field

pieces could do them but little damage, they opened a terrible fire on

the garrison. But the previous two days' siege had steadied the nerves

of the whites, and they received the onslaught coolly, reserving their

fire until they could obtain a fair view of the enemy, and do effective

execution. The "big guns," of which Indians stand in so great dread,

were also well served. The fight raged all the afternoon, from two until

half past six o'clock. Once the savages pressed up so near that the

halfbreeds in the fort could distinguish the shout of the chiefs

ordering a charge for the purpose of capturing the guns. It was a

concerted movement; a feint to draw the fire of the field pieces, and an

immediate rush was made to secure them before they could be reloaded.

But the old artillery sergeant was not to be trapped; he reserved the

fire of his own gun, and when the storming party emerged into open view,

he planted a shell among them which sent them howling back to their

shelter. At nightfall the savages reluctantly gave up the siege and

retired, carrying away a considerable number of killed and wounded.

Those in the fort escaped miraculously; only one man being killed, and

three or four slightly wounded.

The next morning, Saturday, the Indians were seen again approaching the

fort, apparently to renew the attack; but it was soon discovered they

were withdrawing, to wreak their thwarted vengeance on the devoted town

of New Ulm. In the interim since the first attack, the town had been

reenforced by about one hundred volunteers, and had also been put in a

partial state of defence. Fire, murder, and pillage marked the way of

the savages toward it; the garrison noted their approach by the clouds

of smoke which the burning dwellings of the settlers sent up to heaven.

The Indians reached and again attacked New Ulm, on Sunday morning at

about eleven o'clock. The commanding officer of the whites had placed

pickets, and a considerable part of his force to support them, along the

outer edge of the town toward the foe; but so fierce and impetuous was

the attack, that the whites were forced back into the town at the first

onset of the enemy, giving them possession of several of the outer

buildings, from which they pushed their further operations. But the

garrison soon rallied, and obstinately held their ground. Finding

themselves so unexpectedly held at bay, the Indians, who were to the

windward, set fire one after another to the buildings they held, thus

literally burning their way into the town. All day long this continued.

Toward evening, the whites found they had been forced back, inch by

inch, by the fire and smoke and the swift leaden messengers of death,

until nearly one half of the town was lost; but they rallied once more,

made a vigorous charge on the foe, and drove them out. At this the

Indians withdrew, forming themselves into three parties, and camped a

short distance off, making the night hideous with fiendish yells and the

horrid music of their war dances. During the night the garrison

retreated into a still smaller and more defensible part of the town,

committing the rest to flames. A brief demonstration was made by the

enemy on the following morning, but finding the whites so well posted,

they finally abandoned the contest and withdrew. The whites, exhausted

and cut up, joyfully welcomed a cessation of hostilities. During the day

they evacuated the town, bringing off what remained of the garrison in

safety. In this battle they lost ten killed, and about fifty wounded,

while the Indians lost about forty. They were seen to haul off four

wagon loads of dead.

The events thus far narrated cover a period of nine days, and, though

forming the principal ones, were by no means the only events of that

brief time. The contagion of murder, arson, and rapine spread over the

whole area of country on which the Indians lived and roved, embracing a

district one hundred miles in width by two hundred in length. Fort

Abercrombie, situated at the upper end of this vast tract, was

surrounded and besieged, as Fort Ridgely at the lower end had been.

Throughout the intermediate region, scattering parties of the savages

appeared in the isolated villages and settlements, spreading death and

desolation. Local conditions exaggerated and heightened the horrors of

the insurrection. The population of Minnesota, and particularly of these

exposed regions, unlike that of the lower Western States, whose

settlers, trained in border warfare, were familiar with savage craft and

cruelty, and inherited the prowess and spirit of daring adventure which

possessed Daniel Boone, was largely made up of foreign emigrants,

Germans, French, Norwegians, and Swedes. They were unaccustomed to

danger, and unused to arms. They had lived for years in confidence and

daily intercourse with the Indians. Engaged in the absorbing labor of

building and providing their new homes, they were without guns or other

weapons of defence. Still worse, the war for the Union had called into

its ranks a large proportion of their young, active, and able-bodied

men, and left only the women and children to gather the harvest and

guard the hearthstone. Upon their heads this storm burst suddenly, and

with a terror which deprived them of all courage and resource to resist

it. Emboldened by the feeble opposition they met, and maddened by the

carnival of blood in which they rioted, the savages indulged in

cruelties and barbarities too horrible to recount in detail. The

Governor of Minnesota, in a special message to the Legislature of the

State, thus paints them:

'Infants hewn into bloody chips of flesh, or nailed alive to door

posts to linger out their little life in mortal agony, or torn

untimely from the womb of the murdered mother, and in cruel mockery

cast in fragments on her pulseless and bleeding breast; rape

joined to murder in one awful tragedy; young girls, even children

of tender years, outraged by their brutal ravishers, till death

ended their shame and suffering; women held in captivity to undergo

the horrors of a living death; whole families burned alive; and as

if their devilish fury could not glut itself with outrages on the

living, its last efforts exhausted in mutilating the bodies of the

dead; such are the spectacles, and a thousand nameless horrors

besides, which their first experience of Indian war has burned into

the brains and hearts of our frontier people.'....

A wild panic ensued. Those who escaped the tomahawk and scalping knife

fled in consternation and dismay, abandoning their little earthly all,

leaving their cattle astray on the prairies, and their crops uncut and

ungathered in the fields; some fleeing with such precipitation as to

leave their food untouched on the table, where but a moment before it

had been spread for the daily repast. Women and children wandered for

days in the woods, subsisting on nuts and berries. Every road was lined

with fugitives, and all the villages were crowded with their surrounding

population. The refugees poured by hundreds into the city of St. Paul,

situated from eighty to one hundred and fifty miles from the scenes of

the outbreak; and many, who were able to do so, embarked on the first

departing steamers, and hurried away from the State. It is estimated

that ten large and flourishing counties were almost completely

depopulated.

It so happened that a portion of the volunteers recruited for the Union

army had not yet been ordered out of the State. Though poorly equipped

and supplied, they were at once sent into the field against the Indians,

and they served as a nucleus around which the irregular organizations

could rally. Every old gun, pistol, knife, or other weapon was cleaned

up; every pound of powder and lead was bought and distributed; and

horses were impressed by military authority, with which to extemporize

cavalry companies. The surrounding States promptly sent what aid they

could in men, guns, and cartridges. The Governor by proclamation

authorized the formation of companies of scouts and rangers in the

threatened neighborhoods. Very soon after the outbreak, Colonel H. H.

Sibley, an experienced frontiersman, having a thorough knowledge of

Indian habits and character, was on the march against them, with about

one thousand men. The General Government augmented these forces as

rapidly as possible, and sent Major-General Pope to assume command of

the Indian Department.

Hearing of Colonel Sibley's approach, Little Crow retreated to Yellow

Medicine, taking with him a large baggage train of plunder, and about

one hundred white prisoners, chiefly women and children, whom he had

captured at different places, and whom, with a few exceptions, they did

not specially maltreat, but compelled to labor at camp drudgery.

Colonel Sibley pushed on with his forces, sending in advance a cavalry

detachment, which reached and relieved Fort Ridgely on the 27th of

August, after it had been besieged for nine days. He himself arrived at

that post with the remainder of his troops on the following day. On the

31st, he sent out a detachment of two companies, one mounted, a fatigue

party of twenty men, and seventeen teams and teamsters, to reconnoitre

the neighboring settlements and to bury the dead. They proceeded to the

Minnesota river opposite the Lower Agency, and found and buried sixteen

corpses the first day. The next day they continued their search, finding

and burying fifty-four. That night they encamped on the open prairie,

near the upper timber of the Birch Coolie creek, three miles from the

Lower Agency. At about four o'clock of the next morning, September 2,

one of their sentinels shouted, "Indians!" and almost immediately, a

shower of balls rained upon the camp. From this first fire, and during

the confusion attending it, the detachment suffered severely. They soon,

however, gained the shelter of their wagons, and from behind them and

the piles of dead horses which literally covered the ground, they

returned a vigorous fire upon their assailants, meanwhile digging a

rifle pit as they fought. It was a fierce morning's battle, and the foe,

in largely superior numbers, had nearly surrounded and captured them

when reenforcements arrived. So hot was the attack, that one of the

tents was found to have one hundred and forty bullet holes through it.

The boldness and severity of this attack, demonstrated to Colonel Sibley

the necessity for an increase of force and very cautious movements, and

accordingly he fell back to the neighborhood of Fort Ridgely. Anxious

also to obtain the release of the white prisoners in Little Crow's camp,

and fearing that if he won a decided success in battle they would be

murdered, he determined to resort to negotiation. He therefore wrote the

following note and left it fastened to a stake, on the ground where the

last battle had taken place:

'If Little Crow has any propositions to make to me, let him send a

halfbreed to me, and he shall be protected in and out of my camp.

H. H. SIBLEY,

Col. Com. Military Expedition.'

A day or two afterward, two halfbreeds came into his camp under a flag

of truce, bringing a note signed 'Little Crow, his mark,' excusing and

justifying his attack on the whites. Colonel Sibley replied, 'Little

Crow, you have murdered many of our people without cause. Return me the

prisoners under a flag of truce, and I will talk with you like a man.'

After the lapse of a few days, another message came from Little Crow,

stating that he had one hundred and fifty-five prisoners, and asking

what he could do to make peace. Colonel Sibley replied that his young

men had been committing more murders, and that was not the way to make

peace.

Having learned from several sources that serious dissensions had broken

out in the Indian camp, and having also received the needed

reenforcements, Colonel Sibley left Fort Ridgely on the 12th of

September, and marched up the Minnesota river to Wood Lake, near Yellow

Medicine, arriving there on the 22d following. Little Crow was encamped

in the vicinity with his braves. The savages, however, had become

demoralized, and he could no longer control them. Little Crow desired to

make an attack that night, but his opponents told him in council that if

he was a brave Indian he would fight the white man by daylight.

Accordingly, next morning he attacked Colonel Sibley's forces with three

hundred of his warriors, the others refusing to join in the fight. After

a sharp two-hours' battle the Indians were completely routed, losing

thirty killed, and a proportionate number of wounded. The whites lost

four killed, and forty wounded.

This battle substantially ended the war. The Indians retreated, and the

whites pursued them to Lac Qui Parle. Four days afterward, a camp of

about one hundred and fifty lodges of Indians and halfbreeds separated

from Little Crow's party, met Colonel Sibley in council, surrendered

themselves, and formally delivered up to him ninety-one white prisoners,

and over one hundred halfbreeds, whom they had obtained. Other parties

came in afterward, surrendering themselves unconditionally, until

between two and three thousand Indians, of all sexes and ages, were in

the hands of the troops as prisoners of war. A military commission was

appointed to try the ringleaders and worst offenders, and over three

hundred of them were convicted and sentenced to death. Before this paper

is printed, some, at least, of these, will have expiated their crimes on

the gallows. Little Crow, with a small but desperate band of followers,

succeeded in making his escape to Devil's Lake in Dakota Territory.

The future disposition of the Indians of the State of Minnesota is one

of the most perplexing minor questions of the day. In their present

location, the feud of race engendered by the insurrection will only die

with the generation that witnessed its beginning. Humanitarian impulses

and humanitarian duties are forgotten in the fierce thirst for private

vengeance. With one voice, the people of that State demand the removal

or threaten the extermination of their dangerous neighbors. But whither

shall they go? The swallowing tides of civilization encompass them on

the east, the north, and the south; and the only other avenue, the west,

is guarded by the gaunt wolf starvation.

It is proposed by some to colonize them on the island of Isle Royale, in

Lake Superior; by others, to purchase some small West India island, and

transport them there, where tropical nature will feed them without

expense to the Government. Perhaps the more practical measure would be

to gather all that remains of the red race within the United States into

one Territory, to establish a more thorough guardianship over them, and

to subject them to a stricter and more absolute government, which should

compel them to assume gradually the duties and customs of civilized

life.

'DEAD!'

With chilling breath it comes:

Again--and yet again! on every gale,

America! from thy great battle field!

Our hearts are hushed, and desolate our homes--

Our lids are heavy, and our cheeks are pale--

While thus we yield

Our loved ones up to thee!

Dead! dying at their posts!

The young, the noble, and the loving ones!

The widow's all! the gray-haired father's hope--

All thine, my country! take the treasured hosts:

Hold in thy faithful keeping all thy sons!

We give them up--

To thee and liberty!

Oh, keep our honored dead

Within the folds of thy great-pulsing heart!

Entwine their memory with thy polished lore:

Cherish the sacred dust above _their_ bed

Who sprang to shield thee from the traitor's dart!

Bless evermore

The dead who died for thee!

Silent the teardrops fall

Down the pale mother's cheek at close of day;

For sorrow sitteth at the widow's gate:

Dark are the shadows gathered on the wall,

And where the mourner bendeth low to pray--

No more to wait

The coming of her free!

For thee--'dear native land!'

What precious hopes are severed one by one!

What hearts lie crushed and sick by 'hope deferred!'

How many dear ones, stretched along the sand,

Bleed out their lives beneath a blighting sun--

With but a word--

'Mother!' for plaint or prayer!

Shall they be vainly shed--

The blood and tears that wash our stricken soil?

Bringing no healing with their torrent streams?

Vain the long requiem for the noble dead--

Vain all the agony and all the toil--

The soldier's dreams--

The patriot's thought and care?

No! float upon the winds!

Flag of my country! let thy stars give light

To nations of the earth! proclaim afar

The end of tyrant rule that madly binds

Our millions down beneath a fearful blight!

Float--_every star_!

We have not one to spare!

A MERCHANT'S STORY.

'ALL of which I saw, and part of which I was.'