THE CAMPAIGN OF 1848--ITS INCIDENTS AND RESULTS.
The approach of another presidential campaign--Party divisions
threatened by the Wilmot proviso--Nomination of Gen. Cass--The
"Nicholson Letter"--Democratic division in New York--The nomination
of Gen. Taylor--Whig divisions--Birth of the Free Soil party--The
Buffalo Convention--Nomination of Van Buren and Adams--Difficulty
of uniting on Van Buren--Incidents--Rev. Joshua Leavitt--The work
of the campaign--Mr. Webster and Free Soil--Greeley and Seward--
Abuse of Whig bolters--Remarkable results of the canvass.
The approach of another presidential year was thus marked by a
steadily growing interest in the question of slavery. The conflict
with it seemed far more irrepressible than ever before. The Liberty
party had nominated John P. Hale as its candidate in 1847. The
Whigs in Massachusetts were threatened with an incurable division
into "Conscience Whigs" and "Cotton Whigs," growing out of the
question of annexation and the government of our new Territories.
The same causes were dividing the Democrats of New York, and the
feud was seriously aggravated by remembering the defeat of Mr. Van
Buren in 1844, for the one sin of opposing the immediate annexation
of Texas, while a large majority of the party favored his nomination.
The Van Buren element in the Democratic party threatened revolt in
other States, while both Whigs and Democrats in the North were
committed to the policy of the Wilmot proviso. This was to be the
great question of the ensuing national canvass, and the roused
spirit of the people of the free States seemed clearly to foreshadow
the triumph of freedom in the organization and government of our
Mexican acquisitions.
But the virtue and courage of our politicians were now to be severely
tried. The power of party discipline and the tempting bait of the
spoils were to be employed as never before in swerving men from
their convictions. The South, of course, was a perfect unit, and
fully resolved upon the spread of slavery over our Territories.
It had always been the absolute master of the Northern Democracy,
and had no dream of anything less than the supremacy of its own
will. Its favorite candidate was now Gen. Cass, and he was nominated
by the Baltimore National Convention on the 22d day of May. It
was a fit nomination for the party of slavery. He had been thirsting
for it many years, and had earned it by multiplied acts of the most
obsequious and crouching servility to his Southern overseers.
Again and again he had crawled in the dust at their feet, and, if
they could not now reward him with the presidency, it seemed utterly
useless for any Northern man to hope for their favor. The "Nicholson
letter" was not all that the South wanted, but it was a very
important concession, and with Gen. Cass as its interpreter it
meant the nearest thing possible to a complete surrender. In this
National Convention the State of New York had two sets of delegates,
both of which were formally admitted, as a compromise; but the
members of the Van Buren or Free Soil wing refused to take their
seats, and thus held themselves in reserve for such revolutionary
work as should afterward seem to them advisable.
The Whig National Convention met in Philadelphia on the 7th of
June. The party seemed completely demoralized by the defeat of
Mr. Clay in the previous canvass, and was now in search of "an
available candidate," and inspired by the same miserable policy of
expediency which had been so barren of results in 1840. The Northern
Whigs appeared to be unanimously and zealously committed to the
prohibition of slavery in our Territories, but equally unanimous
and zealous in the determination to succeed in the canvass. For
more than a year Gen. Taylor had been growing into favor with the
party as a candidate, and he had now become decidedly formidable.
The spectacle was a melancholy one, since it demonstrated the
readiness of this once respectable old party to make complete
shipwreck of everything wearing the semblance of principle, for
the sake of success. General Taylor had never identified himself
in any way with the Whig party. He had spent his life as a mere
soldier on the frontier, and had never given a vote. He had frankly
said he had not made up his mind upon the questions which divided
the parties. He not only refused to be the exponent of Whig
principles, but accepted the nomination of bodies of men not known
as Whigs, who scouted the idea of being bound by the acts of any
national convention. He was a very large slave-owner, and thus
identified in interest, and presumably in sympathy, with the South;
but he could not be induced to define his position. His active
supporters were chiefly from the slave-holding States and those
free States which had generally given Democratic majorities, while
the men most violent in their opposition to the Wilmot proviso were
his most conspicuous followers; but the Whigs from the free States
vouched for his soundness on the slavery issue. His letters
contained nothing but vague generalities, and he utterly declined
to commit himself on the question that was stirring the nation to
its depths. To the different sections of the Union he wore a
different face, and each section seemed confident that the other
would be duped, while cordially joining in a common struggle for
the spoils of office which constituted the sole bond of union.
His early letters, before he fell into the hands of the politicians,
were frank and unstudied, reflecting his character as a plain old
soldier without any political training; but his later letters were
diplomatic, not wanting in style and finish, and obviously written
by others. His second letter to Allison, on which the campaign
was finally fought, was written in the room of Alexander H. Stephens,
in Washington, after consulting with Toombs and Crittenden, and
afterward forwarded to Taylor, who gave it to the world as his own.
He had constantly about him a sort of political body-guard, or
"committee of safety," to direct his way during the canvass, and
no one could reasonably pretend that any principle whatever would
be settled by the election. He had whipped the Mexicans, and the
Whig platform was "Rough and Ready," "A little more Grape, Captain
Bragg," and political success.
The nomination, moreover, was accomplished by methods which made
it exceedingly exasperating to Mr. Clay and his friends. The
treachery of the Whig managers to their great leader exceeded that
which had sacrificed him at the Harrisburg Convention of 1839.
The Whigs of Virginia nominated Taylor on the credit of a forged
dispatch, to the effect that Kentucky had decided in his favor,
and thus abandoned her favorite son. General Scott had expressed
his willingness to run for Vice President if Clay should be nominated
for President, but the member of Congress who had been authorized
to make this known kept it a secret. Clay allowed his name to go
before the Convention on the assurance of Governor Bebb that Ohio
would stand by him, but the delegation voted for Scott. On the
first ballot, even seven delegates from Kentucky voted for Taylor,
and he was nominated by 171 votes, with 63 for Scott, and only 32
for Clay. Of the votes for Taylor, on the first ballot, 97 were
cast by States that had voted for Polk in 1844; and of the 94 Whig
delegates from the Free States he received the votes of only four.
He was nominated as the candidate of the Whigs who believed in the
extension of slavery, by a Convention which repeatedly and
contemptuously voted down the Wilmot proviso, already endorsed by
all the Whig Legislatures of the Free States, while no platform of
principles was adopted; and Horace Greeley was thus perfectly
justified in branding it as "the slaughter-house of Whig principles."
Such an exhibition of shameless political prostitution has rarely
been witnessed, and three of the leading Whigs of Massachusetts--
Charles Allen, Henry Wilson, and Stephen C. Phillips--left the
Convention in disgust, and severed their connection with the party
forever.
In this state of the country, and of the old parties, a new
organization and another nomination became inevitable. The followers
of Mr. Van Buren, in New York and other States, were aching for
the opportunity to make themselves felt in avenging the wrong done
to their chief in 1844, and were quite ready to strike hands with
the members of the Liberty party. The members of that party were
generally ready to withdraw their candidate for President and unite
with the anti-slavery Whigs and Democrats of the Northern States,
if an honorable basis of action could be agreed upon. The "Conscience
Whigs" of Massachusetts, and thousands of Whigs in other States,
who regarded the freedom of our Territories as a vital issue, and
were thoroughly soured by the nomination of General Taylor, were
equally anxious to fuse with the other elements of political
discontent, and make their voices heard in a new and independent
organization. There was little time for delay, and as soon as the
troubled political elements would permit, a call was issued for a
National Free Soil Convention, at Buffalo, on the 9th of August.
The Convention was historic. It marked a new and significant
departure in party politics, and was a conspicuous milestone in
the anti-slavery journey. It met in a spacious pavilion, and was
one of the largest political gatherings ever assembled in the
country, and animated by unbounded earnestness and enthusiasm.
Its leading spirits were men of character and undisputed ability.
The "Barnburners" of New York were largely in attendance, including
such veteran leaders as Preston King, Benjamin F. Butler, David
Dudley Field, Samuel J. Tilden, and James W. Nye. Ohio sent a
formidable force headed by Joshua R. Giddings, Salmon Chase, and
Samuel Lewis. The "Conscience Whigs" of Massachusetts were well
represented, with Charles Francis Adams, Stephen C. Phillips, and
Francis W. Bird, in the front. The Liberty party sent its delegates,
including such men as the Rev. Joshua Leavitt, Samuel Lewis, and
Henry B. Stanton. The disappointed Clay Whigs were there, led by
such representative men as Joseph L. White, who were eager to lay
hold of any weapon by which they could hope to strike down the
betrayers of the Whig cause. The "Land Reformers" and "Workingmen"
of New York were represented, as also the special advocates of
"Cheap postage for the people," who longed to be rid of the tariff
of twenty-five cents on the privilege of sending a single letter
through the mails, and whose wishes afterward found expression in
the platform.
Could these elements be harmonized? Could the bolters from the
Whig party overcome their traditional hatred of Martin Van Buren?
If so, could the Liberty party men be prevailed upon to give up
their chosen candidate, and labor for the election of the "foxy
old politician" whose reputation for tricky and ambidextrous
political methods had become proverbial? If not, could the
Barnburners, with their large following, be united on the candidate
of the Liberty party, or some new man? These questions had to be
met; but preliminary to the nomination was the construction of a
platform. This was accomplished without serious difficulty, and,
considering the circumstances of the country, it was perhaps the
most admirable declaration of principles ever promulgated by any
party. It was chiefly the work of Mr. Chase, assisted by Charles
Francis Adams, Benjamin F. Butler, and others, and it declared,
among its pregnant and telling sentences, that "Congress has no
more power to make a slave than to make a king," and that "it is
the duty of the Federal Government to relieve itself of all
responsibility for the existence or continuance of slavery wherever
that Government possesses authority to legislate and is thus
responsible for its existence." The reading of these declarations
called forth thunders of applause, while the last plank in the
platform "resolved, that we inscribe on our banner free soil, free
speech, free labor, and free men, and under it we will fight on
and fight ever, until a triumphant victory shall reward our
exertions."
The nominating Convention assembled in the large Universalist Church
in Buffalo. Mr. Van Buren was not understood as desiring the
nomination, but it was now authoritatively stated that he would
accept it if tendered, and that he would, without hesitation or
evasions, accept the platform of the Convention. The different
elements of this movement had been in conference, and the time for
action was at hand. In common with my Whig associates, I had all
along felt that I could not support Mr. Van Buren under any
circumstances; but the pervading tone of earnestness in the
Convention, and the growing spirit of political fraternity, had
modified our views. We saw that several of the great leaders of
the Liberty party were quite ready to meet the "Barnburners" on
common ground. It seemed very desirable to combine with so large
a body of helpers, and to profit by their experience and training
in the school of practical politics. Mr. Van Buren had certainly
gone great lengths as the servant of the slave power, but there
was _one_ great and vital issue to freedom on which he had taken
the right side, and maintained it without flinching in the presence
of a great temptation; and for this he had been anathematized by
the South, and driven into retirement. If nominated by the anti-
slavery men of the free States, and squarely committed to their
principles, it was altogether improbable, if not morally impossible,
that he would again lend himself to the service of slavery. Besides,
the whole country had been so demoralized by this evil that it was
not easy to find any public man of eminence whose record had been
spotless; and it was a part of the work of earnest anti-slavery
men to forget party memories and prejudices for the sake of the
cause, and to cultivate the virtues of hope and trust, rather than
the spirit of doubt and suspicion, in dealing with a man who was
now ready to unfurl the flag of freedom, and had been stricken down
by her foes. The nomination of Mr. Van Buren would undoubtedly
mean the freedom of our Territories and the denationalization of
slavery, and this was the great point. In this movement there was
no element of compromise. It was wholly unhampered by a Southern
wing; and even should the nominee betray the men who now trusted
him, their choice of him, as their standard bearer, would be
vindicated by the circumstances of the hour.
Mr. Chase, then in the prime of his manhood, and a splendid figure,
was the president of this nominating Convention, and its work
proceeded. There was a feeling of intense anxiety about the result,
and an earnestness and real seriousness which I have never witnessed
in any other Convention. There were leading Whigs and Liberty
party men, whose action in respect to Mr. Van Buren was not yet
generally known. Several delegates remarked, "I want to know what
Samuel Lewis will do before I decide," or, "I want to hear from
Joshua Leavitt." After the nomination of Mr. Van Buren had been
moved, Mr. Leavitt rose from his seat, and all eyes were instantly
turned upon him. He was then in middle life, and his tall and
erect form and fine physiognomy were singularly striking. He was
full of emotion, and seemed at first to lack the power of utterance,
while the stillness of death prevailed in the Convention. He began
by saying: "Mr. Chairman, this is the most solemn experience of
my life. I feel as if in the immediate presence of the Divine
Spirit." He paused here for a few moments, while there did not
seem to be a dry eye in the Convention; but he proceeded grandly
with his speech, defined his position, and seconded the motion for
Mr. Van Buren's nomination, upon which the mingled political
enthusiasm and religious fervor of the Convention broke over all
bounds, and utterly defied description. Men laughed and cried at
the same time, and gave themselves up to the perfect abandon of
their feelings. All divisions had completely died away, and the
nomination of Mr. Van Buren by acclamation became a matter of
course. Charles Francis Adams was then nominated for Vice President,
when the Convention adjourned, and its members returned to their
homes to prepare for the coming canvass under the banner of "Van
Buren and Free Soil--Adams and Liberty."
The new national party was now launched, and the work of the
presidential canvass began in earnest. John A. Dix, then one of
the United States Senators from New York, was nominated for Governor,
with Seth M. Gates, the anti-slavery colleague of Adams and Giddings
in Congress, for Lieutenant-Governor. The Free Soil State Convention
of Ohio set the ball in motion in that State, and the new party,
by securing the balance of power in the Legislature, was able to
place Mr. Chase in the Senate of the United States. Stephen C.
Phillips was nominated for Governor in Massachusetts, where the
movement was very formidable, and exceedingly annoying to the
"Cotton Whigs." Like conventions were held in Indiana and other
free States, organizations effected, and candidates nominated,
while the movement extended to the border slave states, in which
it afterward did excellent service. The canvass of the Democrats
was not remarkably enthusiastic. The division of the party and
the probable loss of the State of New York had a very depressing
influence. The Whig canvass was perhaps marked by still less
earnestness and spirit. It was hollow and false, and the best men
in the party felt it. The only enthusiasm of the campaign was in
the new party, and it was perfectly spontaneous and fervid. The
most remarkable feature of this contest was the bitterness of the
Whigs toward the Free Soilers, and especially those who had deserted
from the Whig ranks. They seemed to be maddened by the imputation
that they were not perfectly sound on the Free Soil issue. This
was particularly true of Mr. Webster, who had been branded by Mr.
Adams as a "Traitor to freedom," as far back as the year 1843, and
who afterward justified these strong words in his "Seventh of March
Speech." In the Whig State Convention of Massachusetts, held at
Springfield, in 1847, Mr. Webster, speaking of the Wilmot proviso,
had said: "Did I not commit myself to that in the year 1838, fully,
entirely? I do not consent that more recent discoverers shall take
out a patent for the discovery. Allow me to say, sir, it is not
their thunder." He then claimed Free Soil as a distinctive Whig
doctrine, and in a speech at Abingdon, he now said: "The gentlemen
who have joined this new party, from among the Whigs, pretend that
they are greater lovers of liberty and greater haters of slavery
than those they leave behind them. I do not admit it. I do not
admit any such thing. I think we are as good Free Soil men as they
are." The same ground was urged by Washington Hunt, James Brooks,
and other leading Whigs; and Mr. Greeley declared that "at no time
previously had Whig inculcations throughout the free States been
so decidedly and strongly hostile to the extension of slavery, and
so determined in requiring its inhibition by Congress, as during
the canvass of 1848." These statements appear very remarkable,
when it is remembered that the Whig nominee was a Louisiana planter,
and that he was nominated at the bidding of the slave-holding wing
of the party, and by a convention which not only contemptuously
voted down the Wilmot proviso, but treated its advocates as
"fanatics." But even Governor Seward strangely clung to the old
party after the death and burial of its conscience, and seriously
brought his personal integrity into question by urging the support
of General Taylor upon those who favored the abolition of slavery.
In a speech at Cleveland, Ohio, in October of that year, he said:
"Freedom insists on the emancipation and development of labor;
slavery demands a soil moistened with tears and blood--freedom a
soil that exults under the elastic tread of man in his native
majesty. These elements divide and classify the American people
into two parties," and he proceeded to argue as if the Whigs and
Democrats were thus divided, when he knew that both were in the
absolute control of the slave power.
The Free Soilers, of course, did not particularly relish these
moral lectures on slavery by men who had sold their principles at
public auction for the chance of office and plunder through the
elevation of a mere military chieftain to the Presidency. But the
Whigs were not content with claiming the complete monopoly of anti-
slavery virtue, and parading it before the country; they became
abusive and insulting to the full measure of their insincerity.
Their talk about "renegades" and "apostates" anticipated the abuse
heaped upon the Greeley men of 1872, when the Republican party had
so completely triumphed over the integrity of its earlier life.
The course of the Whigs in Indiana supplies a striking illustration.
After the presidential election of 1844, I resolved that I would
never vote for another slaveholder, and the course of events and
my own reflections had constantly strengthened this purpose. I
saw no honorable way of escape, and my position was well known to
my Whig brethren; but, as soon as General Taylor was nominated,
the policy of browbeating and threats was invoked. I had no taste
for politics, and had determined to devote myself entirely to my
profession. I was especially anxious to avoid any strife with the
Whigs, who were overwhelmingly in the ascendant in Eastern Indiana,
and in whose ranks were most of my clients and best friends. But
the party leaders talked to me in the imperative mood. They saw
my embarrassment, and seemed determined to coerce me into submission
by the supposed extremity of my situation; and I was obliged to
offer them open defiance. I was made an elector for Van Buren and
Adams in the Fourth Indiana District, and entered upon the contest
with a will; and from that time forth I was subjected to a torrent
of billingsgate which rivalled the fish market. Words were neither
minced nor mollified, but made the vehicles of political wrath and
the explosions of personal malice. The charge of "abolitionism"
was flung at me everywhere, and it is impossible now to realize
the odium then attaching to that term by the general opinion. I
was an "amalgamationist" and a "woolly-head." I was branded as
the "apostle of disunion" and "the orator of free-dirt." It was
a standing charge of the Whigs that I carried in my pocket a lock
of the hair of Frederick Douglass, to regale my senses with its
aroma when I grew faint. They declared that my audiences consisted
of "eleven men, three boys, and a negro," and sometimes I could
not deny this inventory was not very far from the truth. I was
threatened with mob violence by my own neighbors, and treated as
if slavery had been an established institution of the State, with
its machinery of overseers and background of pauperized whites;
while these same Whigs, as if utterly unconscious of the irony of
their professions, uniformly resolved, in their conventions, that
"the Whig party is the only true Free Soil party."
I was not, of course, a non-resistant in the warfare, and for two
months I gave myself up to the work absolutely. I was seriously
embarrassed in the outset by the question of transportation, having
neither horse nor carriage, nor the financial ability to procure
either; but an anti-slavery Quaker, and personal friend, named
Jonathan Macy, came to my rescue. He furnished me an old white
horse, fully seventeen hands high, and rather thin in flesh, but
which served my purpose pretty well. I named him "Old Whitey," in
honor of General Taylor's famous war steed, and sallied forth in
the work of the campaign. Having a first-class pair of lungs and
much physical endurance, I frequently spoke as often as three times
a day, and generally from two to three hours at each meeting. I
spoke at cross-roads, in barns, in pork houses, in saw-mills, in
any place in which a few or many people would hear me; but I was
rarely permitted to enter any of the churches. I was so perfectly
swallowed up in my work and dominated by the singleness of my
purpose, that I took no thought of anything else; and the vigor of
my invective in dealing with the scurrilous attacks of my assailants
was very keenly realized, and, I believe, universally acknowledged.
With the truth on my side, I was delighted to find myself perfectly
able, single-handed, to fight my battle against the advantages of
superior talent and the trained leadership of men of established
reputations on the stump. But the fight, as I have said, was
unspeakably relentless, vitriolic and exhausting, and nothing could
redeem it but an overmastering sense of duty and self-respect.
The worst passions of humanity were set on fire among the Whigs by
this provoking insurrection against their party as the mere tool
of slavery, while animosities were engendered that still survive,
and which many men have carried to their graves. This is only a
single illustration of the spirit of the canvass, for similar
conflicts marked the struggle in Ohio, Massachusetts and other
States, and they were made inevitable by the desperation of a party
already dead in its trespasses, and which deserved a funeral instead
of a triumph.
The results of this contest were most remarkable. General Taylor
was elected but his triumph was the death of the Whig party. The
long-coveted prize of the presidency was snatched from General
Cass, and the Democratic party divided and humiliated by its struggle
to serve two masters, while the friends of Mr. Van Buren had their
longed-for revenge. The Free Soil ticket received a little less
than three hundred thousand votes, and failed to carry the electoral
vote of a single State; but the effect of the movement was inestimably
important. It seated Chase in the United States Senate from Ohio,
and sent to the lower branch of Congress a sufficient number of
anti-slavery men from different States to hold the balance of power
in that body. It was very savingly felt in Congress in July of
this year, on the vote by which Oregon, with a territory nearly
equal to that of the thirteen original States, narrowly escaped
the damnation of slavery. It emphasized the demand of the million
for "cheap postage," and the freedom of the public domain, and thus
helped stereotype these great measures into law; and it played its
part in creating the public opinion which compelled the admission
of California as a free State. These were great achievements, but
they were mere preliminaries to the magnificent and far-reaching
work of succeeding years, of which the revolt of 1848 was the
promise and pledge.