THE EVOLUTION OF THE REPUBLICAN PARTY (CONTINUED).
A notable fugitive slave case--Inauguration of Pierce--Repeal of
the Missouri compromise--Its effect upon the parties--The Free Soil
position--Know-Nothingism--The situation--First steps in the
formation of the Republican party--Movements of the Know-Nothings
--Mistake of the Free Soilers--Anti-slavery progress--Election of
Banks as Speaker--Call for a Republican National Convention at
Pittsburg--Organization of the party--The Philadelphia convention
and its platform--Nomination of Fremont--Know-Nothing and Whig
nominations--Democratic nomination and platform--The grand issue
of the campaign--The Democratic canvass--The splendid fight for
Fremont--Triumph of Buchanan--Its causes and results--The teaching
of events.
It was early in the year 1853 that a notable fugitive slave case
occurred in Indiana. The alleged fugitive was John Freeman, who
had once resided in Georgia, but for many years had been a resident
of Indianapolis and had never been a slave. The marshal of the
State, though he had voted against the passage of the Fugitive Act
of 1850, entered upon the service of Ellington, the claimant, with
a zeal and alacrity which made him exceedingly odious to anti-
slavery men. He accompanied Ellington into the jail in which
Freeman was confined, and compelled him to expose his shoulders
and legs, so that the witnesses could identify him by certain marks,
and swear according to the pattern, which they did. The case became
critical for Freeman; but the feeling in Indianapolis was so strong
in his favor that a continuance of the hearing was granted to enable
him to prepare his proofs. He hired friends to go to Georgia, who
succeeded in bringing back with them several men who had known him
there many years before, and testified that he was a free man. On
the day of the trial Ellington became the fugitive, while Freeman
was preparing his papers for a prosecution for false imprisonment.
The large crowd in attendance was quite naturally turned into an
anti-slavery meeting, which was made to do good service in the way
of "agitation." The men from Georgia were on the platform, and
while they were complimented by the speakers on their love of
justice and humanity in coming to the rescue of Freeman, no quarter
was given to the Northern serviles and flunkeys who had made haste
to serve the perjured villains who had undertaken to kidnap a
citizen of the State under the forms of an atrocious law. The
meeting was very enthusiastic, and the tables completely turned on
the slave-catching faction.
When President Pierce was inaugurated, on the fourth of March,
1853, the pride and power of the Democratic party seemed to be at
their flood. In his inaugural message he expressed the fervent
hope that the slavery question was "forever at rest," and he
doubtless fully believed that this hope would be realized. In his
annual message, in December following, he lauded the Compromise
measures with great emphasis, and declared that the repose which
they had brought to the country should receive no shock during his
term of office if he could avert it. The anti-slavery element in
the Thirty-third Congress was scarcely as formidable as in the
preceding one, though there were some accessions. Benjamin F. Wade
was now in the Senate, and De Witt of Massachusetts, Gerrit Smith
of New York, and Edward Wade of Ohio, were members of the House.
In the beginning the session gave promise of a quiet one, but on
the twenty-third of January the precious repose of the country, to
which the President had so lovingly referred in his message, was
rudely shocked by the proposition of Senator Douglas to repeal the
Missouri compromise. This surprising demonstration from a leading
friend of the Administration and a champion of the compromise
measures marked a new epoch in the career of slavery, and rekindled
the fires of sectional strife. After a very exciting debate in
both houses, which lasted four months, the measure finally became
a law on the thirtieth of May, 1854. It was a sprout from the
grave of the Wilmot proviso; for if, under the Constitution, it
was the duty of Congress to abandon the policy of restriction in
1850, and provide that Utah and New Mexico should be received into
the Union, with or without slavery, according to the choice of
their people, the Missouri compromise line should never have been
established, and was a rock of offense to the slave-holders. The
Compromise Acts of 1850 had not abrogated that line, and related
only to our Mexican acquisitions; but they had affirmed a principle,
and if that principle was sound, the Missouri restriction was
indefensible. The whole question of slavery was thus reopened,
for the sacredness of the compact of 1820 and the wickedness of
its violation depended largely upon the character of slavery itself,
and our constitutional relations to it.
On all sides the situation was exceedingly critical and peculiar.
The Whigs, in their now practically disbanded condition, were free
to act as they saw fit, and were very indignant at this new
demonstration in the interest of slavery, while they were yet in
no mood to countenance any form of "abolitionism." Multitudes of
Democrats were equally indignant, and were quite ready to join
hands with the Whigs in branding slavery with the violation of its
plighted faith. Both made the sacredness of the bargain of 1820
and the crime of its violation the sole basis of their hostility.
Their hatred of slavery was geographical, spending its force north
of the Missouri restriction. They talked far more eloquently about
the duty of keeping covenants, and the wickedness of reviving
sectional agitation, than the evils of slavery, and the cold-blooded
conspiracy to spread it over an empire of free soil. Their watch-
word and rallying cry was "the restoration of the Missouri compromise";
but this demand was not made merely as a preliminary to other
measures, which would restore the free States to the complete
assertion of their constitutional rights, but as a means of
propitiating the _spirit_ of compromise, and a convenient retreat
to the adjustment acts of 1850 and the "finality" platforms of
1852. In some States and localities the anti-slavery position of
these parties was somewhat broader; but as a general rule the ground
on which they marshaled their forces was substantially what I have
stated.
The position of the Free Soilers was radically different. They
opposed slavery upon principle, and irrespective of any compact or
compromise. They did not demand the restoration of the Missouri
compromise; and although they rejoiced at the popular condemnation
of the perfidy which had repealed it, they regarded it as a false
issue. It was an instrument on which different tunes could be
played. To restore this compromise would prevent the spread of
slavery over soil that was free; but it would re-affirm the binding
obligation of a compact that should never have been made, and from
which we were now offered a favorable opportunity of deliverance.
It would be to recognize slavery as an equal and honorable contracting
party, waiving its violated faith, and thus precluding us from
pleading its perfidy in discharge of all compromises. It would
degrade our cause to the level of those who washed their hands of
all taint of abolitionism, and only waged war against the Administration
because it broke up the blessed reign of peace which descended upon
the country in the year 1850. These Free Soilers insisted that
the breach of this compact was only a single link in a great chain
of measures aiming at the absolute supremacy of slavery in the
Government, and thus inviting a resistance commensurate with that
policy; and that this breach should be made the exodus of the people
from the bondage of all compromises. They argued that to cut down
the issue between slavery and freedom to so narrow, equivocal, and
half-hearted a measure, at a time when every consideration pleaded
for radical and thorough work, was practical infidelity to the
cause and the crisis. It was sporting with humanity, and giving
to the winds a glorious victory for the right when it was within
our grasp.
The situation was complicated by two other political elements.
One of these was Temperance, which now, for the first time, had
become a most absorbing political issue. The "Maine Law" agitation
had reached the West, and the demand of the temperance leaders was
"search, seizure, confiscation, and destruction of liquors kept
for illegal sale." Keenly alive to the evils of drunkenness, and
too impatient to wait for the inevitable conditions of progress,
they thought the great work could be accomplished by a legislative
short-cut. They insisted that the "accursed poison" of the
"rumseller," wherever it could be found, should be poured into the
gutter along with other filth, while he should be marched off to
answer to the charge of a crime against society, and take his rank
among other great offenders. Instead of directing their chief
attack against the appetite for drink and seeking to lessen the
demand, their effort was to destroy the supply. They had evidently
given no thought to the function of civil government in dealing
with the problem, nor did they perceive that the vice of drunkenness
is an effect, quite as much as a cause, having its genesis in the
unequal laws, in the domination of wealth over the poor, in the
lack of general education, in inherited infirmities, physical and
mental, in neglected household training; in a word, in untoward
social conditions which must be radically dealt with before we can
strike with effect at the root of the evil. They did not see that
the temperance question is thus a many-sided one, involving the
general uplifting of society, and that no legislation can avail
much which loses sight of this truth. For these very reasons the
agitation for a time swept everything before it. Its current was
resistless, because it was narrow and impetuous. If the leaders
had comprehended the logic of their work and its unavoidable
limitations, and had only looked forward to the overthrow of the
fabric of intemperance by undermining its foundations, the regular
current of politics would not have been perceptibly affected, while
the way would have been left open for a more perfect union on the
really vital and overshadowing issue of slavery.
The other element referred to made its appearance in the closing
months of 1853, and took the name of the Know-Nothing party. It
was a secret oath-bound political order, and its demand was the
proscription of Catholics and a probation of twenty-one years for
the foreigner as a qualification for the right of suffrage. Its
career was as remarkable as it was disgraceful. Thousands were
made to believe that the Romish hierarchy was about to overthrow
our liberties, and that the evils of "foreignism" had become so
alarming as to justify the extraordinary measures by which it was
proposed to counteract them. Thousands, misled by political knaves
through the arts of the Jesuits believed that the cause of freedom
was to be sanctified and saved by this new thing under the sun.
Thousands, through their unbridled credulity, were persuaded that
political hacks and charlatans were to lose their occupation under
the reign of the new Order, and that our debauched politics were
to be thoroughly purified by the lustration which it promised
forthwith to perform. Thousands, eager to bolt from the old parties,
but fearful of being shot down on the way as deserters, gladly
availed themselves of this newly devised "underground railroad" in
escaping from the service of their old masters. Under these various
influences the Whigs generally, and a large proportion of the Free
Soilers and Democrats, were enlisted in the service of this remarkable
movement. Pretending to herald a new era in our politics in which
the people were to take the helm and expel demagogues and traders
from the ship, it reduced political swindling to the certainty and
system of a science. It drew to itself, as the great festering
centre of corruption, all the known rascalities of the previous
generation, and assigned them to active duty in its service. It
was an embodied lie of the first magnitude, a horrid conspiracy
against decency, the rights of man, and the principle of human
brotherhood.
Its birth, simultaneously with the repeal of the Missouri compromise,
was not an accident, as any one could see who had studied the
tactics of the slave-holders. It was a well-timed scheme to divide
the people of the free States upon trifles and side issues, while
the South remained a unit in defense of its great interest. It
was the cunning attempt to balk and divert the indignation aroused
by the repeal of the Missouri restriction, which else would spend
its force upon the aggressions of slavery; for by thus kindling
the Protestant jealousy of our people against the Pope, and enlisting
them in a crusade against the foreigner, the South could all the
more successfully push forward its schemes.
On this ground, as an anti-slavery man, I opposed it with all my
might from the beginning to the end of its life. For a time it
carried everything with a high hand. It was not only irresistible
in numbers, but it fought in the dark. It pretended to act openly
and in friendly conference with its enemies as to questions which
it had already settled in secret conclave. Its opponents did not
know how to wage war against it, because they did not know who were
their friends. If a meeting was called to expose and denounce its
schemes, it was drowned in the Know-Nothing flood which, at the
appointed time, completely overwhelmed the helpless minority. This
happened in my own county and town, where thousands of men, including
many of my old Free Soil brethren, assembled as an organized mob
to suppress the freedom of speech; and they succeeded by brute
force in taking possession of every building in which their opponents
could meet, and silencing them by savage yells. At one time I
think I had less than a dozen political friends in the State, and
I could see in the glad smile which lighted up the faces of my old-
time enemies that they considered me beyond the reach of political
resurrection. But I never for a moment intermitted my warfare, or
doubted that in the end the truth would be vindicated, although I
did not dream that in less than two years I would be the recognized
leader of the men composing this mob, who would be found denying
their membership of this secret order, or confessing it with shame.
It was a strange dispensation; and no record of independent journalism
was ever more honorable than that of the "New York Tribune" and
"National Era," during their heroic and self-sacrificing fight
against this organized scheme of bigotry and proscription, which
can only be remembered as the crowning and indelible shame of our
politics. It admits of neither defense or palliation, and I am
sorry to find Henry Wilson's "History of the Rise and Fall of the
Slave Power" disfigured by his elaborate efforts to whitewash it
into respectability, and give it a decent place in the records of
the past.
Such were the elements which mingled and commingled in the political
ferment of 1854, and out of which an anti-slavery party was to be
evolved capable of trying conclusions with the perfectly disciplined
power of slavery. The problem was exceedingly difficult, and could
not be solved in a day. The necessary conditions of progress could
not be slighted, and the element of time must necessarily be a
large one in the grand movement which was to come. The dispersion
of the old parties was one thing, but the organization of their
fragments into a new one on a just basis was quite a different
thing. The honor of taking the first step in the formation of the
Republican party belongs to Michigan, where the Whigs and Free
Soilers met in State convention on the sixth of July, formed a
complete fusion into one party, and adopted the name Republican.
This action was followed soon after by like movements in the States
of Wisconsin and Vermont. In Indiana a State "fusion" convention
was held on the thirteenth of July, which adopted a platform,
nominated a ticket, and called the new movement the "People's
Party." The platform, however, was narrow and equivocal, and the
ticket nominated had been agreed on the day before by the Know-
Nothings, in secret conclave, as the outside world afterward learned.
The ticket was elected, but it was done by combining opposite and
irreconcilable elements, and was not only barren of good fruits
but prolific of bad ones, through its demoralizing example; for
the same dishonest game was attempted the year following, and was
overwhelmingly defeated by the Democrats. In New York the Whigs
refused to disband, and the attempt to form a new party failed.
The same was true of Massachusetts and Ohio. The latter State,
however, in 1855, fell into the Republican column, and nominated
Mr. Chase for Governor, who was elected by a large majority. A
Republican movement was attempted this year in Massachusetts, where
conservative Whiggery and Know-Nothingism blocked the way of
progress, as they did also in the State of New York. In November
of the year 1854 the Know-Nothing party held a National Convention
in Cincinnati, in which the hand of slavery was clearly revealed,
and the "Third Degree" or pro-slavery obligation of the order, was
adopted; and it was estimated that at least a million and a half
of men afterward bound themselves by this obligation. In June of
the following year another National Convention of the order was
held in Philadelphia, and at this convention the party was finally
disrupted on the issue of slavery, and its errand of mischief
henceforward prosecuted by fragmentary and irregular methods; but
even the Northern wing of this Order was untrustworthy on the
slavery issue, having proposed, as a condition of union, to limit
its anti-slavery demand to the restoration of the Missouri restriction
and the admission of Kansas and Nebraska as free States.
Indeed, the outlook as to the formation of a triumphant anti-slavery
party was not so promising towards the close of the year 1855 as
it had seemed in the spring of the preceding year. If the Free
Soilers had been clear-sighted enough to distinguish between that
which was transient and that which was permanent in the forces
which had roused the people of the free States, and, availing
themselves of the repeal of the Missouri restriction as a God-send
to their cause, had summoned the manhood of the country to their
help, a powerful impulse would have been given in the right direction.
But in the general confusion and bewilderment of the times many of
them lost their way, and were found mustering with the mongrel
hordes of Know-Nothingism, and under captains who were utterly
unworthy to lead them. Instead of inflexibly maintaining their
ground and beckoning the people to come up and possess it, they
meanly deserted it themselves, while vainly expecting others to
occupy it. The Whigs were totally powerless to render any service
without first disbanding their party, and this, in many localities,
they declined to do. Both wings of the Know-Nothing movement were
organized obstacles to the formation of a new party, while the
bolters from the Democrats were as unprepared for radical anti-
slavery work as the Whigs or Know-Nothings. But notwithstanding
all these drawbacks, real progress had been made. In the Thirty-
fourth Congress, Wilson, Foster, Harlan, Trumbull, and Durkee were
chosen senators. In the House were Burlingame, Buffington, Banks,
Hickman, Grow, Covode, Sherman, Bliss, Galloway, Bingham, Harlan,
Stanton, Colfax, Washburn, and many others. These were great gains,
and clearly pointed to still larger accessions, and the final
subordination of minor issues to the grand one on which the people
of the free States were to take their stand. An unprecedented
struggle for the Speakership began with the opening of the Thirty-
fourth Congress, and lasted till the second day of February, when
the free States finally achieved their first victory in the election
of Banks. Northern manhood at last was at a premium, and this was
largely the fruit of the "border ruffian" attempts to make Kansas
a slave State, which had stirred the blood of the people during
the year 1855. In the meantime, the arbitrary enforcement of the
Fugitive Slave Act still further contributed to the growth of an
anti-slavery opinion. The famous case of Anthony Burns in Boston,
the prosecution of S. M. Booth in Wisconsin, and the decision of
the Supreme Court of that State, the imprisonment of Passmore
Williamson in Philadelphia, and the outrageous rulings of Judge
Kane, and the case of Margaret Garner in Ohio, all played their
part in preparing the people of the free States for organized
political action against the aggressions of slavery.
Near the close of the year 1855, the chairmen of the Republican
State Committees of Ohio, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Vermont,
and Wisconsin, issued a call for a National Republican Convention
to be held at Pittsburg, on the 22d of February, 1856, for the
purpose of organizing a National Republican party, and making
provision for a subsequent convention to nominate candidates for
President and Vice President. It was very largely attended, and
bore witness to the spirit and courage which the desperate measures
of the slave oligarchy had awakened throughout the Northern States.
All the free States were represented, and eight of the slave-holding,
namely: Maryland, Virginia, Delaware, Kentucky, Missouri, Tennessee,
North Carolina, and Texas. The convention assembled in Lafayette
Hall, and the Hon. John A. King, of New York, a son of Rufus King,
was made temporary chairman, and Francis P. Blair, of Maryland,
the intimate friend of President Jackson, was made its permanent
president. He was most enthusiastically greeted on taking the
chair, and began his address with the remark that this was the
first time he had ever been called on to make a speech. His views
were too conservative in tone to satisfy the demands of the crisis,
but he was most cordially welcomed as a distinguished delegate from
a slave State. The convention was opened by a prayer from Owen
Lovejoy, and there was a suppressed murmur of applause when he
asked God to enlighten the mind of the President of the United
States, and turn him from his evil ways, and if this was not
possible, to take him away, so that an honest and God-fearing man
might fill his place. Horace Greeley was seen in the audience,
and was loudly and unitedly called on for a speech. He spoke
briefly, saying that he had been in Washington several weeks, and
friends there "counseled extreme caution in our movements." This
was the burden of his exhortation. At the close of his remarks
Mr. Giddings was tumultuously called for, and responded by saying
that Washington was the last place in the world to look for counsel
or redress, and related an anecdote of two pious brothers, named
Joseph and John, who in early times had begun a settlement in the
West. Joseph prayed to the Lord: "O, Lord! we have begun a good
work; we pray thee to carry it on thus,"--giving specific directions.
But John prayed: "O, Lord, we have begun a good work; carry it on
as you think best, and don't mind what Joe says." Mr. Giddings
then introduced the Rev. Owen Lovejoy, of Illinois,--"not Joe, but
John." Mr. Lovejoy delighted the audience, and was followed by
Preston King and other speakers; and it was quite manifest that
this was a _Republican_ convention, and not a mere aggregation of
Whigs, Know-Nothings, and dissatisfied Democrats. It contained a
considerable Know-Nothing element, but it made no attempt at
leadership, while Charles Remelin and other speakers were
enthusiastically applauded when they denounced Know-Nothingism as
a mischievous side issue in our politics, which the new movement
should openly repudiate. The convention was in session two days,
and was singularly harmonious throughout. Its resolutions and
address to the people did not fitly echo the feeling and purpose
of its members, but this was a preliminary movement, and it was
evident that nothing could stay the progress of the cause. As
chairman of the committee on organization, I had the honor to report
the plan of action through which the new party took life, providing
for the appointment of a National Executive Committee, the holding
of a National Convention in Philadelphia on the 17th of June, for
the nomination of candidates for President and Vice President, and
the organization of the party in counties and districts throughout
the States.
The Philadelphia convention was very large, and marked by unbounded
enthusiasm. The spirit of liberty was up, and side issues forgotten.
If Know-Nothingism was present, it prudently accepted an attitude
of subordination. The platform reasserted the self-evident truths
of the Declaration of Independence, and denied that Congress, the
people of a Territory, or any other authority, could give legal
existence to slavery in any Territory of the United States. It
asserted the sovereign power of Congress over the Territories, and
its right and duty to prohibit it therein. Know-Nothingism received
no recognition, and the double-faced issue of the restoration of
the Missouri compromise was disowned, while the freedom of Kansas
was dealt with as a mere incident of the conflict between liberty
and slavery. On this broad platform John C. Fremont was nominated
for President on the first ballot, and Wm. L. Dayton was unanimously
nominated for Vice-President. The National Republican party was
thus splendidly launched, and nothing seemed to stand in the way
of its triumph but the mischievous action of the Know-Nothing party,
and a surviving faction of pro-slavery Whigs. The former party
met in National Convention in Philadelphia, on the twenty-second
of February, and nominated Millard Fillmore for President and Andrew
J. Donelson for Vice President. Some bolters from this convention
subsequently nominated Nathaniel P. Banks and William F. Johnson
as their candidates, and a remnant of the Whig party held a convention
at Baltimore on the seventeenth of September, and endorsed Fillmore
and Donelson; but a dissatisfied portion of the convention afterward
nominated Commodore Stockton and Kenneth Raynor. All these factions
were destined soon to political extinction, but in a hand-to-hand
fight with the slave power they yet formed a considerable obstacle
to that union and harmony in the free States which were necessary
to success.
The Democratic National Convention met at Cincinnati on the second
of June. The candidates were Buchanan, Pierce, and Douglas. On
the seventeenth ballot Buchanan was unanimously nominated for
President, and on the second ballot John C. Breckenridge was
nominated for Vice President. The platform re-affirmed the action
of Congress respecting the repeal of the Missouri compromise and
the compromises of 1850, and recognized the right of the people of
all the Territories, including Kansas and Nebraska, whenever the
number of their inhabitants justified it, to form a Constitution
with or without domestic slavery, and to be admitted into the Union
upon terms of equality with the other States. These declarations,
together with the express denial to Congress of the right to
interfere with slavery in the Territories, were accepted as
satisfactory to the South, and were fairly interpreted to mean that
the people of the Territories, pending their territorial condition,
had no power to exclude slavery therefrom. In Mr. Buchanan's letter
of acceptance, he completely buried his personality in the platform,
and Albert G. Brown of Mississippi, and Governor Wise of Virginia,
pronounced him as true to the South as Mr. Calhoun himself. These
were the tickets for 1856, but the real contest was between Buchanan
and Fremont. It was pre-eminently a conflict of principles. The
issues could hardly have been better defined, and they were vital.
It was a struggle between two civilizations, between reason and
brute force, between the principles of Democracy and the creed of
Absolutism; and the case was argued with a force, earnestness, and
fervor, never before known. No Presidential contest had ever so
touched the popular heart, or so lifted up and ennobled the people
by the contagion of a great and pervading moral enthusiasm. The
campaign for Buchanan, however, was not particularly animated, at
least in the Northern States. It illustrated the power of party
machinery, and the desperate purpose to press forward along a path
which had been followed too far to call a halt. It was a struggle
for party ascendancy by continual and most humiliating concessions
to the ever-multiplying demands of slavery; and the ardor of the
struggle must have been cooled by many troublesome misgivings as
to the final effect of these concessions, and the policy of purchasing
a victory at such a price.
The excitement of the canvass was aggravated by very exasperating
circumstances. The brutal and cowardly assault of Brooks upon
Sumner was the counterpart of border ruffianism in Kansas, and
perhaps did more to stir the blood of the people of the Northern
States than any of the wholesale outrages thus far perpetrated in
that distant border. These outrages, however, were now multiplied
in all directions, and took on new shapes. They were legislative,
executive, and judicial, cropping out in private pillage and
assassination, in organized marauding and murder, and in armed
violence; and these horrid demonstrations enlivened the canvass to
the end. Republican enthusiasm reached its white heat, borrowing
the self-forgetting devotion and dedicated zeal of a religious
conversion. Banks and tariffs and methods of administration were
completely forgotten, while thousands of Democrats who had been
trained in the school of slavery, and hundreds of thousands of
conservative Whigs, caught the spirit of liberty which animated
the followers of Fremont and Dayton. The canvass had no parallel
in the history of American politics. No such mass-meetings had
ever assembled. They were not only immense in numbers, but seemed
to come together spontaneously, and wholly independent of machinery.
The processions, banners, and devices were admirable in all their
appointments, and no political campaign had ever been inspired by
such charming and soul-stirring music, or cheered by such a following
of orderly, intelligent, conscientious and thoroughly devoted men
and women. To me the memory of this first great national struggle
for liberty is a delight, as the part I played in it was a real
jubilee of the heart. I was welcomed by the Republican masses
everywhere, and the fact was as gratifying to me as it proved
mortifying to the party chiefs who, a little while before, had
found such comfort in the assurance that henceforward they were
rid of me. With many wry faces they submitted, after all sorts of
manoeuvers early in the canvass to keep me in the background, varied
by occasional threats to drive me out of the party. As their own
party standing became somewhat precarious they completely changed
their base, and often amused the public by super-serviceable displays
of their personal friendship. Even the ring-leader of the Know-
Nothing mob of two years before, standing up to his full height of
"six feet six," used to introduce me at mass meetings as "Your
honored representative in Congress, and war-worn veteran in the
cause of liberty."
But Buchanan triumphed. The baleful interposition of Know-Nothingism
stood in the way of that union of forces which the situation
demanded, and was thus chiefly responsible for the Republican
defeat. The old Whigs who had so recently stepped from their
"finality" platform, could not be unitedly rallied, and the Democratic
bolters were only half converted. In my own State the opposition
to the Democracy repudiated even the name Republican, and entered
the field as "the People's party." It was a combination of
weaknesses, instead of a union of forces. All the Fillmore Know-
Nothings and Silver-Grey Whigs of the State were recognized as
brethren. At least one man on the State ticket, of which Oliver
P. Morton was the head, was a Fillmore man, while both Fillmore
and anti-Fillmore men had been chosen as delegates to Philadelphia
and electors for the State. The political managers even went so
far as to suppress their own electoral ticket during the canvass,
as a peace-offering to old Whiggery and Know-Nothingism, while the
admission of Kansas as a free State was dealt with as the sole
issue, and border ruffian outrages and elaborate disclaimers of
"abolitionism" were the regular staple of our orators, who openly
declared that the Republican party was a "white man's party." Anti-
slavery speakers like Clay and Burlingame were studiously kept out
of Southern Indiana, where the teachings of Republicanism were
especially needed, and Richard W. Thompson, then the professed
champion of Fillmore, but in reality the stipendary of the Democrats,
traversed that region on the stump, denounced the Republicans as
"Abolitionists," "disunionists," and "incendiaries," and was
everywhere unchallenged in his course. Similar tactics, though
not so deplorably despicable, prevailed in several of the other
States, giving unmistakable evidence of the need of a still further
and more thorough enlightenment of the people as to the spirit and
aims of slavery. In the light of these facts, I was not at all
cast down by the defeat of Fremont. He was known as an explorer,
and not as a statesman. If he had succeeded, with mere politicians
in his cabinet, a Congress against him, and only a partially
developed anti-slavery sentiment behind him, the cause of freedom
would have been in fearful peril. The revolution so hopefully
begun might have been arrested by half-way measures, promoting the
slumber rather than the agitation of the truth, while the irritating
nostrums of Buchanan Democracy, so necessary to display the
abominations of slavery, would have been lost to us. The moral
power of the canvass for Fremont was itself a great gain,
notwithstanding the cowardice of some of its leaders. The Republican
movement could not now go backward, and with a probation of four
years to prepare for the next conflict, unembarrassed by the
responsibilities of power, and free to profit by the blunders and
misdeeds of its foe, it was pretty sure of a triumph in 1860.
Fremont had received a popular vote of one million three hundred
and forty-one thousand two hundred and sixty-four, carrying eleven
States and one hundred and fourteen electoral votes; while only
four years before, John P. Hale, standing on substantially the same
platform, had received only a little more than one hundred and
fifty-seven thousand, and not a single electoral vote. This showed
a marvelous anti-slavery progress, considering the age of the
movement, the elements it forced into combination, and the difficulties
under which it struggled into life; and no one could misinterpret
its significance.