CHAPTER XIV

THE PERSONAL EQUATION

Vast changes had passed over Illinois since Douglas set foot on its

soil, a penniless boy with his fortune to make. The frontier had been

pushed back far beyond the northern boundary of the State; the Indians

had disappeared; and the great military tract had been occupied by a

thrifty, enterprising people of the same stock from which Douglas

sprang. In 1833, the center of political gravity lay far south of the

geographical center of the State; by 1856, the northern counties had

already established a political equipoise. The great city on Lake

Michigan, a lusty young giant, was yearly becoming more conscious of

its commercial and political possibilities. Douglas had natural

affinities with Chicago. It was thoroughly American, thoroughly

typical of that restless, aggressive spirit which had sent him, and

many another New Englander, into the great interior basin of the

continent. There was no other city which appealed so strongly to his

native instincts. From the first he had been impressed by its

commercial potentialities. He had staked his own fortunes upon its

invincible prosperity by investing in real estate, and within a few

years he had reaped the reward of his faith in unseen values. His

holdings both in the city and in Cook County advanced in value by

leaps and bounds, so that in the year 1856, he sold approximately one

hundred acres for $90,000. With his wonted prodigality, born of superb

confidence in future gains, he also deeded ten acres of his valuable

"Grove Property" to the trustees of Chicago University.[592] Yet with

a far keener sense of honor than many of his contemporaries exhibited,

he refused to speculate in land in the new States and Territories,

with whose political beginnings he would be associated as chairman of

the Committee on Territories. He was resolved early in his career "to

avoid public suspicion of private interest in his political

conduct."[593]

The gift to Chicago University was no doubt inspired in part at least

by local pride; yet it was not the first nor the only instance of the

donor's interest in educational matters. No one had taken greater

interest in the bequest of James Smithson to the United States. At

first, no doubt, Douglas labored under a common misapprehension

regarding this foundation, fancying that it would contribute directly

to the advancement and diffusion of the applied sciences; but his

support was not less hearty when he grasped the policy formulated by

the first secretary of the institution. He was the author of that

provision in the act establishing the Smithsonian Institution, which

called for the presentation of one copy of every copyrighted book,

map, and musical composition, to the Institution and to the

Congressional Library.[594] He became a member of the board of regents

and retained the office until his death.

With his New England training Douglas believed profoundly in the

dignity of labor; not even his Southern associations lessened his

genuine admiration for the magnificent industrial achievements of the

Northern mechanic and craftsman. He shared, too, the conviction of his

Northern constituents, that the inventiveness, resourcefulness, and

bold initiative of the American workman was the outcome of free

institutions, which permitted and encouraged free and bold thinking.

The American laborer was not brought up to believe it "a crime to

think in opposition to the consecrated errors of olden times."[595] It

was impossible for a man so thinking to look with favor upon the

slave-labor system of the South. He might tolerate the presence of

slavery in the South; but in his heart of hearts he could not desire

its indefinite extension.

Douglas belonged to his section, too, in his attitude toward the

disposition of the public domain. He was one of the first to advocate

free grants of the public lands to homesteaders. His bill to grant one

hundred and sixty acres to actual settlers who should cultivate them

for four years, was the first of many similar projects in the early

fifties.[596] Southern statesmen thought this the best "bid" yet made

for votes: it was further evidence of Northern demagogism. The South,

indeed, had little direct interest in the peopling of the Western

prairies by independent yeomen, native or foreign. Just here Douglas

parted company with his Southern associates. He believed that the

future of the great West depended upon this wise and beneficial use of

the national domain. Neither could he agree with Eastern statesmen who

deplored the gratuitous distribution of lands, which by sale would

yield large revenues. His often-repeated reply was the quintessence

of Western statesmanship. The pioneer who went into the wilderness, to

wrestle with all manner of hardships, was a true wealth-producer. As

he cleared his land and tilled the soil, he not only himself became a

tax-payer, but he increased the value of adjoining lands and added to

the sum total of the national resources.[597]

Douglas gave his ungrudging support to grants of land in aid of

railroads and canals. He would not regard such grants, however, as

mere donations, but rather as wise provisions for increasing the value

of government lands. "The government of the United States is a great

land owner; she has vast bodies of land which she has had in market

for thirty or forty years; and experience proves that she cannot sell

them.... The difficulty in the way of the sale does not arise from the

fact that the lands are not fertile and susceptible to cultivation,

but that they are distant from market, and in many cases destitute of

timber."[598] Therefore he gave his voice and vote for nearly all land

grant bills, designed to aid the construction of railroads and canals

that would bring these public lands into the market; but he insisted

that everything should be done by individual enterprise if possible.

He shared the hostility of the West toward large grants of land to

private corporations.[599] What could not be done by individual

enterprise, should be done by the States; and only that should be

undertaken by the Federal government which could be done in no other

way.

As the representative of a constituency which was profoundly

interested in the navigation of the great interior waterways of the

continent, Douglas was a vigorous advocate of internal improvements,

so far as his Democratic conscience would allow him to construe the

Constitution in favor of such undertakings by the Federal government.

Like his constituents, he was not always logical in his deductions

from constitutional provisions. The Constitution, he believed, would

not permit an appropriation of government money for the construction

of the ship canal around the Falls of the St. Mary's; but as

landowner, the Federal government might donate lands for that

purpose.[600] He was also constrained to vote for appropriations for

the improvement of river channels and of harbors on the lakes and on

the ocean, because these were works of a distinctly national

character; but he deplored the mode by which these appropriations were

made.[601]

Just when the Nebraska issue came to the fore, he was maturing a

scheme by which a fair, consistent, and continuous policy of internal

improvements could be initiated, in place of the political bargaining

which had hitherto determined the location of government operations.

Two days before he presented his famous Nebraska report, Douglas

addressed a letter to Governor Matteson of Illinois in which he

developed this new policy.[602] He believed that the whole question

would be thoroughly aired in the session just begun.[603] Instead of

making internal improvements a matter of politics, and of wasteful

jobbery, he would take advantage of the constitutional provision

which permits a State to lay tonnage duties by the consent of

Congress. If Congress would pass a law permitting the imposition of

tonnage duties according to a uniform rule, then each town and city

might be authorized to undertake the improvement of its own harbor,

and to tax its own commerce for the prosecution of the work. Under

such a system the dangers of misuse and improper diversion of funds

would be reduced to a minimum. The system would be self-regulative.

Negligence, or extravagance, with the necessary imposition of higher

duties, would punish a port by driving shipping elsewhere.

But for the interposition of the slavery issue, which no one would

have more gladly banished from Congress, Douglas would have

unquestionably pushed some such reform into the foreground. His heart

was bound up in the material progress of the country. He could never

understand why men should allow an issue like slavery to stand in the

way of prudential and provident legislation for the expansion of the

Republic. He laid claim to no expert knowledge in other matters: he

frankly confessed his ignorance of the mysteries of tariff schedules.

"I have learned enough about the tariff," said he with a sly thrust at

his colleagues, who prided themselves on their wisdom, "to know that I

know scarcely anything about it at all; and a man makes considerable

progress on a question of this kind when he ascertains that

fact."[604] Still, he grasped an elementary principle that had escaped

many a protectionist, that "a tariff involves two conflicting

principles which are eternally at war with each other. Every tariff

involves the principles of protection and of oppression, the

principles of benefits and of burdens.... The great difficulty is, so

to adjust these conflicting principles of benefits and burdens as to

make one compensate for the other in the end, and give equal benefits

and equal burdens to every class of the community."[605]

Douglas was wiser, too, than the children of light, when he insisted

that works of art should be admitted free of duty. "I wish we could

get a model of every work of art, a cast of every piece of ancient

statuary, a copy of every valuable painting and rare book, so that our

artists might pursue their studies and exercise their skill at home,

and that our literary men might not be exiled in the pursuits which

bless mankind."[606]

Still, the prime interests of this hardy son of the West were

political. How could they have been otherwise in his environment?

There is no evidence of literary refinement in his public utterances;

no trace of the culture which comes from intimate association with the

classics; no suggestion of inspiration quaffed in communion with

imaginative and poetic souls. An amusing recognition of these

limitations is vouched for by a friend, who erased a line of poetry

from a manuscript copy of a public address by Douglas. Taken to task

for his presumption, he defended himself by the indisputable

assertion, that Douglas was never known to have quoted a line of

poetry in his life.[607] Yet the unimaginative Douglas anticipated the

era of aërial navigation now just dawning. On one occasion, he urged

upon the Senate a memorial from an aëronaut, who desired the aid of

the government in experiments which he was conducting with dirigible

balloons. When the Senate, in a mirthful mood, proposed to refer the

petition to the Committee on Foreign Affairs, Douglas protested that

the subject should be treated seriously.[608]

While Douglas was thus steadily growing into complete accord with the

New England elements in his section--save on one vital point,--he fell

captive to the beauty and grace of one whose associations were with

men and women south of Mason and Dixon's line. Adèle Cutts was the

daughter of Mr. J. Madison Cutts of Washington, who belonged to an old

Maryland family. She was the great-niece of Dolly Madison, whom she

much resembled in charm of manner. When Douglas first made her

acquaintance, she was the belle of Washington society,--in the days

when the capital still boasted of a genuine aristocracy of gentleness,

grace, and talent. There are no conflicting testimonies as to her

beauty. Women spoke of her as "beautiful as a pearl;" to men she

seemed "a most lovely and queenly apparition."[609] Both men and women

found her sunny-tempered, generous, warm-hearted, and sincere. What

could there have been in the serious-minded, dark-visaged "Little

Giant" to win the hand of this mistress of many hearts? Perhaps she

saw "Othello's visage in his mind"; perhaps she yielded to the

imperious will which would accept no refusal; at all events, Adèle

Cutts chose this plain little man of middle-age in preference to men

of wealth and title.[610] It proved to be in every respect a happy

marriage.[611] He cherished her with all the warmth of his manly

affection; she became the devoted partner of all his toils. His two

boys found in her a true mother; and there was not a household in

Washington where home-life was graced with tenderer mutual

affection.[612]

Across this picture of domestic felicity, there fell but a single,

fugitive shadow. Adèle Cutts was an adherent of the Roman Church; and

at a time when Native Americanism was running riot with the sense of

even intelligent men, such ecclesiastical connections were made the

subject of some odious comment. Although Douglas permitted his boys to

be educated in the Catholic faith, and profoundly respected the

religious instincts of his tender-hearted wife, he never entered into

the Roman communion, nor in fact identified himself with any

church.[613] Much of his relentless criticism of Native Americanism

can be traced to his abhorrence of religious intolerance in any form.

This alliance meant much to Douglas. Since the death of his first

wife, he had grown careless in his dress and bearing, too little

regardful of conventionalities. He had sought by preference the

society of men, and had lost those external marks of good-breeding

which companionship with gentlewomen had given him. Insensibly he had

fallen a prey to a certain harshness and bitterness of temper, which

was foreign to his nature; and he had become reckless, so men said,

because of defeated ambition. But now yielding to the warmth of tender

domesticity, the true nature of the man asserted itself.[614] He grew,

perhaps not less ambitious, but more sensible of the obligations which

leadership imposed.

No one could gainsay his leadership. He was indisputably the most

influential man in his party; and this leadership was not bought by

obsequiousness to party opinion, nor by the shadowy arts of the

machine politician alone. True, he was a spoilsman, like all of his

contemporaries. He was not above using the spoils of office to reward

faithful followers. Reprehensible as the system was, and is, there is

perhaps a redeeming feature in this aspect of American politics. The

ignorant foreigner was reconciled to government because it was made to

appear to him as a personal benefactor. Due credit must be given to

those leaders like Douglas, who fired the hearts of Irishmen and

Germans with loyalty to the Union through the medium of party.[615]

The hold of Douglas upon his following, however, cannot be explained

by sordid appeals to their self-interest. He commanded the unbought

service of thousands. In the early days of his career, he had found

loyal friends, who labored unremittingly for his advancement, without

hope of pecuniary reward or of any return but personal gratitude; and

throughout his career he drew upon this vast fund of personal loyalty.

His capacity for warm friendships was unlimited. He made men,

particularly young men, feel that it was an inestimable boon to be

permitted to labor with him "for the cause." Far away in Asia Minor,

with his mind teeming with a thousand strange sensations, he can yet

think of a friend at the antipodes who nurses a grievance against him;

and forthwith he sits down and writes five pages of generous,

affectionate remonstrance.[616] In the thick of an important campaign,

when countless demands are made upon his time, he finds a moment to

lay his hand upon the shoulder of a young German ward-politician with

the hearty word, "I count very much on your help in this

election."[617] If this was the art of a politician, it was art

reduced to artlessness.

Not least among the qualities which made Douglas a great, persuasive,

popular leader, was his quite extraordinary memory for names and

faces, and his unaffected interest in the personal life of those whom

he called his friends. "He gave to every one of those humble and

practically nameless followers the impression, the feeling, that he

was the frank, personal friend of each one of them."[618] Doubtless he

was well aware that there is no subtler form of flattery, than to call

individuals by name who believe themselves to be forgotten pawns in a

great game; and he may well have cultivated the profitable habit.

Still, the fact remains, that it was an innate temperamental quality

which made him frank and ingenuous in his intercourse with all sorts

and conditions of men.

Those who judged the man by the senator, often failed to understand

his temperament. He was known as a hard hitter in parliamentary

encounters. He never failed to give a Roland for an Oliver. In the

heat of debate, he was often guilty of harsh, bitter invective. His

manner betrayed a lack of fineness and good-breeding. But his

resentment vanished with the spoken word. He repented the barbed

shaft, the moment it quitted his bow. He would invite to his table the

very men with whom he had been in acrimonious controversy, and perhaps

renew the controversy next day. Greeley testified to this absence of

resentment. On a certain occasion, after the New York _Tribune_ had

attacked Douglas savagely, a mutual acquaintance asked Douglas if he

objected to meeting the redoubtable Greeley. "Not at all," was the

good-natured reply, "I always pay that class of political debts as I

go along, so as to have no trouble with them in social intercourse and

to leave none for my executors to settle."[619]

In the round of social functions which Senator and Mrs. Douglas

enjoyed, there was little time for quiet thought and reflection. Men

who met him night after night at receptions and dinners, marvelled at

the punctuality with which he returned to the routine work of the

Senate next morning. Yet there was not a member of the Senate who had

a readier command of facts germane to the discussions of the hour. His

memory was a willing slave which never failed to do the bidding of

master intellect. Some of his ablest and most effective speeches were

made without preparation and with only a few pencilled notes at hand.

Truly Nature had been lavish in her gifts to him.

To nine-tenths of his devoted followers, he was still "Judge" Douglas.

It was odd that the title, so quickly earned and so briefly worn,

should have stuck so persistently to him. In legal attainments he fell

far short of many of his colleagues in the Senate. Had he but chosen

to apply himself, he might have been a conspicuous leader of the

American bar; but law was ever to him the servant of politics, and he

never cared to make the servant greater than his lord. That he would

have developed judicial qualities, may well be doubted; advocate he

was and advocate he remained, to the end of his days. So it was that

when a legal question arose, with far-reaching implications for

American politics, the lawyer and politician, rather than the judge,

laid hold upon the points of political significance.

The inauguration of James Buchanan and the Dred Scott decision of the

Supreme Court, two days later, marked a turning point in the career of

Judge Douglas. Of this he was of course unaware. He accepted the

advent of his successful rival with composure, and the opinion of the

Court, with comparative indifference. In a speech before the Grand

Jury of the United States District Court at Springfield, three months

later, he referred publicly for the first time to the Dred Scott case.

Senator, and not Judge, Douglas was much in evidence. He swallowed the

opinion of the majority of the court without wincing--the _obiter

dictum_ and all. Nay, more, he praised the Court for passing, like

honest and conscientious judges, from the technicalities of the case

to the real merits of the questions involved. The material,

controlling points of the case were: first, that a negro descended

from slave parents could not be a citizen of the United States;

second, that the Missouri Compromise was unconstitutional and void

from the beginning, and thus could not extinguish a master's right to

his slave in any Territory. "While the right continues in full force

under ... the Constitution," he added, "and cannot be divested or

alienated by an act of Congress, it necessarily remains a barren and

worthless right, unless sustained, protected, and enforced by

appropriate police regulations and local legislation, prescribing

adequate remedies for its violation. These regulations and remedies

must necessarily depend entirely upon the will and wishes of the

people of the Territory, as they can only be prescribed by the local

legislatures." Hence the triumphant conclusion that "the great

principle of popular sovereignty and self-government is sustained and

firmly established by the authority of this decision."[620]

There were acute legal minds who thought that they detected a false

note in this paean. Was this a necessary implication from the Dred

Scott decision? Was it the intention of the Court to leave the

principle of popular sovereignty standing upright? Was not the

decision rather fatal to the great doctrine--the shibboleth of the

Democratic party?

On this occasion Douglas had nothing to add to his exposition of the

Dred Scott case, further than to point out the happy escape of white

supremacy from African equality. And here he struck the note which put

him out of accord with those Northern constituents with whom he was

otherwise in complete harmony. "When you confer upon the African race

the privileges of citizenship, and put them on an equality with white

men at the polls, in the jury box, on the bench, in the Executive

chair, and in the councils of the nation, upon what principle will you

deny their equality at the festive board and in the domestic circle?"

In the following year, he received his answer in the homely words of

Abraham Lincoln: "I do not understand that because I do not want a

negro woman for a slave I must necessarily want her for a wife."

* * * * *

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 592: Sheahan, Douglas, pp. 442-443; Iglehart, History of the

Douglas Estate in Chicago.]

[Footnote 593: Letter in Chicago _Times_, August 30, 1857.]

[Footnote 594: _Globe_, 29 Cong., 1 Sess., pp. 749-750.]

[Footnote 595: _Globe_, 32 Cong., 2 Sess., p. 870.]

[Footnote 596: _Ibid._, 31 Cong., 1 Sess., p. 75.]

[Footnote 597: _Globe_, 31 Cong., 1 Sess., p. 266.]

[Footnote 598: _Ibid._, 32 Cong., 1 Sess., pp. 350-351.]

[Footnote 599: _Ibid._, p. 769.]

[Footnote 600: _Globe_, 32 Cong., 1 Sess., App., p. 951.]

[Footnote 601: _Ibid._, p. 952.]

[Footnote 602: Letter to Governor Matteson, January 2, 1854, in

Sheahan, Douglas, pp. 358 ff.]

[Footnote 603: MS. Letter, Douglas to C.H. Lanphier, November 11,

1853.]

[Footnote 604: _Globe_, 36 Cong., 2 Sess., p. 953.]

[Footnote 605: _Globe_, 36 Cong., 2 Sess., p. 953.]

[Footnote 606: _Ibid._, p. 1050.]

[Footnote 607: Chicago _Times_, January 27, 1858.]

[Footnote 608: _Globe_, 31 Cong., 2 Sess., p. 132.]

[Footnote 609: Mrs. Pryor, Reminiscences of Peace and War, p. 68;

Villard, Memoirs, I, p. 92.]

[Footnote 610: Letter of Mrs. Lippincott ("Grace Greenwood") to the

writer.]

[Footnote 611: Conversation with Stephen A. Douglas, Esq., of

Chicago.]

[Footnote 612: The marriage took place November 20, 1856.]

[Footnote 613: See Philadelphia _Press_, June 8, 1861.]

[Footnote 614: Letter of J.H. Roberts, Esq., of Chicago to the writer;

also letter of Mrs. Lippincott to the writer.]

[Footnote 615: See Philadelphia _Press_, November 17, 1860.]

[Footnote 616: For a copy of this letter, I am indebted to J.H.

Roberts, Esq., of Chicago.]

[Footnote 617: Conversation with Henry Greenbaum, Esq., of Chicago.]

[Footnote 618: Major G.M. McConnell in the Transactions of the

Illinois Historical Society, 1900; see also Forney, Anecdotes of

Public Men, I, p. 147.]

[Footnote 619: Schuyler Colfax in the South Bend _Register,_ June,

1861; Forney in his Eulogy, 1861; Greeley, Recollections of a Busy

Life, p. 359.]

[Footnote 620: The New York _Times_, June 23, 1857, published this

speech of June 12th, in full.]

Stephen A. Douglas: A Study in American Politics · 第 2 / 8 章