CHAPTER XV

THE REVOLT OF DOUGLAS

Had anyone prophesied at the close of the year 1856, that within a

twelvemonth Douglas would be denounced as a traitor to Democracy, he

would have been thought mad. That Douglas of all men should break with

his party under any circumstances was almost unthinkable. His whole

public career had been inseparably connected with his party. To be

sure, he had never gone so far as to say "my party right or wrong";

but that was because he had never felt obliged to make a moral choice.

He was always convinced that his party was right. Within the

circumference of party, he had always found ample freedom of movement.

He had never lacked the courage of his convictions, but hitherto his

convictions had never collided with the dominant opinion of Democracy.

He undoubtedly believed profoundly in the mission of his party, as an

organization standing above all for popular government and the

preservation of the Union. No ordinary circumstances would justify him

in weakening the influence or impairing the organization of the

Democratic party. Paradoxical as it may seem, his partisanship was

dictated by a profound patriotism. He believed the maintenance of the

Union to be dependent upon the integrity of his party. So thinking and

feeling he entered upon the most memorable controversy of his career.

When President Buchanan asked Robert J. Walker of Mississippi to

become governor of Kansas, the choice met with the hearty approval of

Douglas. Not all the President's appointments had been acceptable to

the Senator from Illinois. But here was one that he could indorse

unreservedly. He used all his influence to persuade Walker to accept

the uncoveted mission. With great reluctance Walker consented, but

only upon the most explicit understanding with the administration as

to the policy to be followed in Kansas. It was well understood on both

sides that a true construction of the Kansas-Nebraska Act required the

submission to popular vote of any constitution which the prospective

convention might adopt. This was emphatically the view of Douglas,

whom Governor Walker took pains to consult on his way through

Chicago.[621]

The call for an election of delegates to a constitutional convention

had already been issued, when Walker reached Kansas. The free-State

people were incensed because the appointment of delegates had been

made on the basis of a defective census and registration; and even the

assurance of the governor, in his inaugural, that the constitution

would be submitted to a popular vote, failed to overcome their

distrust. They therefore took no part in the election of delegates.

This course was unfortunate, for it gave the control of the convention

wholly into the hands of the pro-slavery party, with consequences that

were far-reaching for Kansas and the nation.[622] But by October the

free-State party had abandoned its policy of abstention from

territorial politics, so far as to participate in the election of a

new territorial legislature. The result was a decisive free-State

victory. The next legislature would have an ample majority of

free-State men in both chambers. It was with the discomfiting

knowledge, then, that they represented only a minority of the

community that the delegates of the constitutional convention began

their labors.[623] It was clear to the dullest intelligence that any

pro-slavery constitution would be voted down, if it were submitted

fairly to the people of Kansas. Gloom settled down upon the hopes of

the pro-slavery party.

When the document which embodied the labors of the convention was made

public, the free-State party awoke from its late complacence to find

itself tricked by a desperate game. The constitution was not to be

submitted to a full and fair vote; but only the article relating to

slavery. The people of Kansas were to vote for the "Constitution with

slavery" or for the "Constitution with no slavery." By either

alternative the constitution would be adopted. But should the

constitution with no slavery be ratified, a clause of the schedule

still guaranteed "the right of property in slaves now in this

Territory."[624] The choice offered to an opponent of slavery in

Kansas was between a constitution sanctioning and safeguarding all

forms of slave property,[625] and a constitution which guaranteed the

full possession of slaves then in the Territory, with no assurances

as to the status of the natural increase of these slaves. Viewed in

the most charitable light, this was a gambler's device for securing

the stakes by hook or crook. Still further to guard existing property

rights in slaves, it was provided that if the constitution should be

amended after 1864, no alteration should be made to affect "the rights

of property in the ownership of slaves."[626]

The news from Lecompton stirred Douglas profoundly. In a peculiar

sense he stood sponsor for justice to bleeding Kansas, not only

because he had advocated in abstract terms the perfect freedom of the

people to form their domestic institutions in their own way, but

because he had become personally responsible for the conduct of the

leader of the Lecompton party. John Calhoun, president of the

convention, had been appointed surveyor general of the Territory upon

his recommendation. Governor Walker had retained Calhoun in that

office because of Douglas's assurance that Calhoun would support the

policy of submission.[627] Moreover, Governor Walker had gone to his

post with the assurance that the leaders of the administration would

support this course.

Was it likely that the pro-slavery party in Kansas would take this

desperate course, without assurance of some sort from Washington?

There were persistent rumors that President Buchanan approved the

Lecompton constitution,[628] but Douglas was loth to give credence to

them. The press of Illinois and of the Northwest voiced public

sentiment in condemning the work of the Lecomptonites.[629] Douglas

was soon on his way to Washington, determined to know the President's

mind; his own was made up.

The interview between President Buchanan and Douglas, as recounted by

the latter, takes on a dramatic aspect.[630] Douglas found his worst

fears realized. The President was clearly under the influence of an

aggressive group of Southern statesmen, who were bent upon making

Kansas a slave State under the Lecompton constitution. Laboring under

intense feeling, Douglas then threw down the gauntlet: he would oppose

the policy of the administration publicly to the bitter end. "Mr.

Douglas," said the President rising to his feet excitedly, "I desire

you to remember that no Democrat ever yet differed from an

administration of his own choice without being crushed. Beware of the

fate of Tallmadge and Rives." "Mr. President" rejoined Douglas also

rising, "I wish you to remember that General Jackson is dead."

The Chicago _Times_, reporting the interview, intimated that there had

been a want of agreement, but no lack of courtesy or regard on either

side. Douglas was not yet ready to issue an ultimatum. The situation

might be remedied. On the night following this memorable encounter,

Douglas was serenaded by friends and responded with a brief speech,

but he did not allude to the Kansas question.[631] It was generally

expected that he would show his hand on Monday, the opening day of

Congress. The President's message did not reach Congress, however,

until Tuesday. Immediately upon its reading, Douglas offered the usual

motion to print the message, adding, as he took his seat, that he

totally dissented from "that portion of the message which may fairly

be construed as approving of the proceedings of the Lecompton

convention." At an early date he would state the reasons for his

dissent.[632]

On the following day, December 9th, Douglas took the irrevocable step.

For three hours he held the Senate and the audience in the galleries

in rapt attention, while with more than his wonted gravity and

earnestness he denounced the Lecompton constitution.[633] He began

with a conciliatory reference to the President's message. He was happy

to find, after a more careful examination, that the President had

refrained from making any recommendation as to the course which

Congress should pursue with regard to the constitution. And so, he

added adroitly, the Kansas question is not to be treated as an

administration measure. He shared the disappointment of the President

that the constitution had not been submitted fully and freely to the

people of Kansas; but the President, he conceived, had made a

fundamental error in supposing that the Nebraska Act provided for the

disposition of the slavery question apart from other local matters.

The direct opposite was true. The main object of the Act was to remove

an odious restriction by which the people had been prevented from

deciding the slavery question for themselves, like all other local and

domestic concerns. If the President was right in thinking that by the

terms of the Nebraska bill the slavery question must be submitted to

the people, then every other clause of the constitution should be

submitted to them. To do less would be to reduce popular sovereignty

to a farce.

But Douglas could not maintain this conciliatory attitude. His sense

of justice was too deeply outraged. He recalled facts which every

well-informed person knew. "I know that men, high in authority and in

the confidence of the territorial and National Government, canvassed

every part of Kansas during the election of delegates, and each one of

them pledged himself to the people that no snap judgment was to be

taken. Up to the time of the meeting of the convention, in October

last, the pretense was kept up, the profession was openly made, and

believed by me, and I thought believed by them, that the convention

intended to submit a constitution to the people, and not to attempt to

put a government in operation without such submission."[634] How was

this pledge redeemed? All men, forsooth, must vote for the

constitution, whether they like it or not, in order to be permitted to

vote for or against slavery! This would be like an election under the

First Consul, when, so his enemies averred, Napoleon addressed his

troops with the words: "Now, my soldiers, you are to go to the

election and vote freely just as you please. If you vote for Napoleon,

all is well; vote against him, and you are to be instantly shot." That

was a fair election! "This election," said Douglas with bitter irony,

"is to be _equally fair!_ All men in favor of the constitution may

vote for it--all men against it shall not vote at all! Why not let

them vote against it? I have asked a very large number of the

gentlemen who framed the constitution ... and I have received the same

answer from every one of them.... They say if they allowed a negative

vote the constitution would have been voted down by an overwhelming

majority, and hence the fellows shall not be allowed to vote at all."

"Will you force it on them against their will," he demanded, "simply

because they would have voted it down if you had consulted them? If

you will, are you going to force it upon them under the plea of

leaving them perfectly free to form and regulate their domestic

institutions in their own way? Is that the mode in which I am called

upon to carry out the principle of self-government and popular

sovereignty in the Territories?" It is no answer, he argued, that the

constitution is unobjectionable. "You have no right to force an

unexceptionable constitution on a people." The pro-slavery clause was

not the offense in the constitution, to his mind. "If Kansas wants a

slave-State constitution she has a right to it, if she wants a

free-State constitution she has a right to it. It is none of my

business which way the slavery clause is decided. I care not whether

it is voted up or down." The whole affair looked to him "like a system

of trickery and jugglery to defeat the fair expression of the will of

the people."[635]

The vehemence of his utterance had now carried Douglas perhaps farther

than he had meant to go.[636] He paused to plead for a fair policy

which would redeem party pledges:

"Ignore Lecompton, ignore Topeka; treat both those party

movements as irregular and void; pass a fair bill--the one

that we framed ourselves when we were acting as a unit; have

a fair election--and you will have peace in the Democratic

party, and peace throughout the country, in ninety days. The

people want a fair vote. They never will be satisfied

without it. They never should be satisfied without a fair

vote on their Constitution....

"Frame any other bill that secures a fair, honest vote, to

men of all parties, and carries out the pledge that the

people shall be left free to decide on their domestic

institutions for themselves, and I will go with you with

pleasure, and with all the energy I may possess. But if this

Constitution is to be forced down our throats, in violation

of the fundamental principle of free government, under a

mode of submission that is a mockery and insult, I will

resist it to the last. I have no fear of any party

associations being severed. I should regret any social or

political estrangement, even temporarily; but if it must be,

if I can not act with you and preserve my faith and my

honor, I will stand on the great principle of popular

sovereignty, which declares the right of all people to be

left perfectly free to form and regulate their domestic

institutions in their own way. I will follow that principle

wherever its logical consequences may take me, and I will

endeavor to defend it against assault from any and all

quarters. No mortal man shall be responsible for my action

but myself. By my action I will compromit no man."[637]

The speech made a profound impression. No one could mistake its

import. The correspondent of the New York _Tribune_ was right in

thinking that it "marked an important era in our political

history."[638] Douglas had broken with the dominant pro-slavery

faction of his party. How far he would carry his party with him,

remained to be seen. But that a battle royal was imminent, was

believed on all sides. "The struggle of Douglas with the slave-power

will be a magnificent spectacle to witness," wrote one who had

hitherto evinced little admiration for the author of the

Kansas-Nebraska Act.[639]

Douglas kept himself well in hand throughout his speech. His manner

was at times defiant, but his language was restrained. At no time did

he disclose the pain which his rupture with the administration cost

him, except in his closing words. What he had to expect from the

friends of the administration was immediately manifest. Senator Bigler

of Pennsylvania sprang to the defense of the President. In an

irritating tone he intimated that Douglas himself had changed his

position on the question of submission, alluding to certain private

conferences at Douglas's house; but as though bound by a pledge of

secrecy, Bigler refrained from making the charge in so many words.

Douglas, thoroughly aroused, at once absolved, him from any pledges,

and demanded to know when they had agreed not to submit the

constitution to the people. The reply of Bigler was still allusive and

evasive. "Does he mean to say," insisted Douglas excitedly, "that I

ever was, privately or publicly, in my own house or any other, in

favor of a constitution without its being submitted to the people?" "I

have made no such allegation," was the reply. "You have allowed it to

be inferred," exclaimed Douglas in exasperated tones.[640] And then

Green reminded him, that in his famous report of January 4, 1854, he

had proposed to leave the slavery question to the decision of the

people "by their appropriate representatives chosen by them for that

purpose," with no suggestion of a second, popular vote. Truly, his

most insidious foes were now those of his own political household.

Anti-slavery men welcomed this revolt of Douglas without crediting him

with any but self-seeking motives. They could not bring themselves to

believe other than ill of the man who had advocated the repeal of the

Missouri Compromise. Republicans accepted his aid in their struggle

against the Lecompton fraud, but for the most part continued to regard

him with distrust. Indeed, Douglas made no effort to placate them. He

professed to care nothing for the cause of the slave which was nearest

their hearts. Hostile critics, then, were quick to point out the

probable motives from which he acted. His senatorial term was drawing

to a close. He was of course desirous of a re-election. But his

nominee for governor had been defeated at the last election, and the

State had been only with difficulty carried for the national

candidates of the party. The lesson was plain: the people of Illinois

did not approve the Kansas policy of Senator Douglas. Hence the

weathercock obeyed the wind.

In all this there was a modicum of truth. Douglas would not have been

the power that he was, had he not kept in touch with his constituency.

But a sense of honor, a desire for consistency, and an abiding faith

in the justice of his great principle, impelled him in the same

direction. These were thoroughly honorable motives, even if he

professed an indifference as to the fate of the negro. He had pledged

his word of honor to his constituents that the people of Kansas should

have a fair chance to pronounce upon their constitution. Nothing short

of this would have been consistent with popular sovereignty as he had

expounded it again and again. And Douglas was personally a man of

honor. Yet when all has been said, one cannot but regret that the

sense of fair play, which was strong in him, did not assert itself in

the early stages of the Kansas conflict and smother that lawyer's

instinct to defend, a client by the technicalities of the law. Could

he only have sought absolute justice for the people of Kansas in the

winter of 1856, the purity of his motives would not have been

questioned in the winter of 1858.

Even those colleagues of Douglas who doubted his motives, could not

but admire his courage. It did, indeed, require something more than

audacity to head a revolt against the administration. No man knew

better the thorny road that he must now travel. No man loved his party

more. No man knew better the hazard to the Union that must follow a

rupture in the Democratic party. But if Douglas nursed the hope that

Democratic senators would follow his lead, he was sadly disappointed.

Three only came to his support--Broderick of California, Pugh of Ohio,

and Stuart of Michigan,--while the lists of the administration were

full. Green, Bigler, Fitch, in turn were set upon him.

Douglas bitterly resented any attempt to read him out of the party by

making the Lecompton constitution the touchstone of genuine Democracy;

yet each day made it clearer that the administration had just that end

in view. Douglas complained of a tyranny not consistent with free

Democratic action. One might differ with the President on every

subject but Kansas, without incurring suspicion. Every pensioned

letter writer, he complained, had been intimating for the last two

weeks that he had deserted the Democratic party and gone over to the

Black Republicans. He demanded to know who authorized these

tales.[641] Senator Fitch warned him solemnly that the Democratic

party was the only political link in the chain which now bound the

States together. "None ... will hold that man guiltless, who abandons

it upon a question having in it so little of practical importance ...

and by seeking its destruction, thereby admits his not unwillingness

that a similar fate should be visited on the Union, perhaps, to

subserve his selfish purpose."[642] These attacks roused Douglas to

vehement defiance. More emphatically than ever, he declared the

Lecompton constitution "a trick, a fraud upon the rights of the

people."

If Douglas misjudged the temper of his colleagues, he at least gauged

correctly the drift of public sentiment in Illinois and the Northwest.

Of fifty-six Democratic newspapers in Illinois, but one ventured to

condone the Lecompton fraud.[643] Mass meetings in various cities of

the Northwest expressed confidence in the course of Senator Douglas.

He now occupied a unique position at the capital. Visitors were quite

as eager to see the man who had headed the revolt as to greet the

chief executive.[644] His residence, where Mrs. Douglas dispensed a

gracious hospitality, was fairly besieged with callers.[645]

Washington society was never gayer than during this memorable

winter.[646] None entertained more lavishly than Senator and Mrs.

Douglas. Whatever unpopularity he incurred at the Capitol, she more

than offset by her charming and gracious personality. Acknowledged as

the reigning queen of the circle in which she moved, Mrs. Douglas

displayed a social initiative that seconded admirably the independent,

self-reliant attitude of her husband. When Adèle Cutts Douglas chose

to close the shutters of her house at noon, and hold a reception by

artificial light every Saturday afternoon, society followed her lead.

There were no more brilliant affairs in Washington than these

afternoon receptions and hops at the Douglas residence in Minnesota

Block.[647] In contrast to these functions dominated by a thoroughly

charming personality, the formal precision of the receptions at the

White House was somewhat chilling and forbidding. President Buchanan,

bachelor, with his handsome but somewhat self-contained niece, was not

equal to this social rivalry.[648] Moreover, the cares of office

permitted the perplexed, wearied, and timid executive no respite day

or night.

Events in Kansas gave heart to those who were fighting Lecomptonism.

At the election appointed by the convention, the "constitution with

slavery" was adopted by a large majority, the free-State people

refusing to vote; but the legislature, now in the control of the

free-State party, had already provided for a fair vote on the whole

constitution. On this second vote the majority was overwhelmingly

against the constitution. Information from various sources

corroborated the deductions which unprejudiced observers drew from the

voting. It was as clear as day that the people of Kansas did not

regard the Lecompton constitution as a fair expression of their

will.[649]

Ignoring the light which made the path of duty plain, President

Buchanan sent the Lecompton constitution to Congress with a message

recommending the admission of Kansas.[650] To his mind, the Lecompton

convention was legally constituted and had exercised its powers

faithfully. The organic act did not bind the convention to submit to

the people more than the question of slavery. Meantime the Supreme

Court had handed down its famous decision in the Dred Scott case.

Fortified by this dictum, the President told Congress that slavery

existed in Kansas by virtue of the Constitution of the United States.

"Kansas is, at this moment, as much a slave State as Georgia or South

Carolina"! Slavery, then, could be prohibited only by constitutional

provision; and those who desired to do away with slavery would most

speedily compass their ends, if they admitted Kansas at once under

this constitution.

The President's message with the Lecompton constitution was referred

to the Committee on Territories and gave rise to three reports:

Senator Green of Missouri presented the majority report, recommending

the admission of Kansas under this constitution; Senators Collamer and

Wade united on a minority report, leaving Douglas to draft another

expressing his dissent on other grounds.[651] Taken all in all, this

must be regarded as the most satisfactory and convincing of all

Douglas's committee reports. It is strong because it is permeated by

a desire for justice, and reinforced at every point by a consummate

marshalling of evidence. Barely in his career had his conspicuous

qualities as a special pleader been put so unreservedly at the service

of simple justice. He planted himself firmly, at the outset, upon the

incontrovertible fact that there was no satisfactory evidence that the

Lecompton constitution was the act and deed of the people of

Kansas.[652]

It had been argued that, because the Lecompton convention had been

duly constituted, with full power to ordain a constitution and

establish a government, consequently the proceedings of the convention

must be presumed to embody the popular will. Douglas immediately

challenged this assumption. The convention had no more power than the

territorial legislature could confer. By no fair construction of the

Kansas-Nebraska Act could it be assumed that the people of the

Territory were authorized, "at their own will and pleasure, to resolve

themselves into a sovereign power, and to abrogate and annul the

organic act and territorial government established by Congress, and to

ordain a constitution and State government upon their ruins, without

the consent of Congress." Surely, then, a convention which the

territorial legislature called into being could not abrogate or impair

the authority of that territorial government established by Congress.

Hence, he concluded, the Lecompton constitution, formed without the

consent of Congress, must be considered as a memorial or petition,

which Congress may accept or reject. The convention was the creature

of the territorial legislature. "Such being the case, whenever the

legislature ascertained that the convention whose existence depended

upon its will, had devised a scheme to force a constitution upon the

people without their consent, and without any authority from Congress,

... it became their imperative duty to interpose and exert the

authority conferred upon them by Congress in the organic act, and

arrest and prevent the consummation of the scheme before it had gone

into operation."[653] This was an unanswerable argument.

In the prolonged debate upon the admission of Kansas, Douglas took

part only as some taunt or challenge brought him to his feet. While

the bill for the admission of Minnesota, also reported by the

Committee on Territories, was under fire, Senator Brown of Mississippi

elicited from Douglas the significant concession, that he did not deem

an enabling act absolutely essential, so long as the constitution

clearly embodied the will of the people. Neither did he think a

submission of the constitution always essential; it was, however, a

fair way of ascertaining the popular will, when that will was

disputed." Satisfy me that the constitution adopted by the people of

Minnesota is their will, and I am prepared to adopt it. Satisfy me

that the constitution adopted, or said to be adopted, by the people of

Kansas, is their will, and I am prepared to take it.... I will never

apply one rule to a free State and another to a slave-holding

State."[654] Nevertheless, even his Democratic colleagues continued to

believe that slavery had something to do with his opposition. In the

classic phraseology of Toombs, "there was a 'nigger' in it."

The opposition of Douglas began to cause no little uneasiness. Brown

paid tribute to his influence, when he declared that if the Senator

from Illinois had stood with the administration, "there would not have

been a ripple on the surface." "Sir, the Senator from Illinois gives

life, he gives vitality, he gives energy, he lends the aid of his

mighty genius and his powerful will to the Opposition on this

question."[655] But Douglas paid a fearful price for this power. Every

possible ounce of pressure was brought to bear upon him. The party

press was set upon him. His friends were turned out of office. The

whole executive patronage was wielded mercilessly against his

political following. The Washington _Union_ held him up to execration

as a traitor, renegade, and deserter.[656] "We cannot affect

indifference at the treachery of Senator Douglas," said a Richmond

paper. "He was a politician of considerable promise. Association with

Southern gentlemen had smoothed down the rugged vulgarities of his

early education, and he had come to be quite a decent and well-behaved

person."[657] To political denunciation was now to be added the sting

of mean and contemptible personalities.

Small wonder that even the vigorous health of "the Little Giant"

succumbed to these assaults. For a fortnight he was confined to his

bed, rising only by sheer force of will to make a final plea for

sanity, before his party took its suicidal plunge. He spoke on the 22d

of March under exceptional conditions. In the expectation that he

would speak in the forenoon, people thronged the galleries at an

early hour, and refused to give up their seats, even when it was

announced that the Senator from Illinois would not address the Senate

until seven o 'clock in the evening. When the hour came, crowds still

held possession of the galleries, so that not even standing room was

available. The door-keepers wrestled in vain with an impatient throng

without, until by motion of Senator Gwin, ladies were admitted to the

floor of the chamber. Even then, Douglas was obliged to pause several

times, for the confusion around the doors to subside.[658] He spoke

with manifest difficulty, but he was more defiant than ever. His

speech was at once a protest and a personal vindication. Denial of the

right of the administration to force the Lecompton constitution upon

the people of Kansas, went hand in hand with a defense of his own

Democracy. Sentences culled here and there suggest not unfairly the

stinging rebukes and defiant challenges that accentuated the none too

coherent course of his speech:

"I am told that this Lecompton constitution is a party test,

a party measure; that no man is a Democrat who does not

sanction it ... Sir, who made it a party test? Who made it a

party measure?... Who has interpolated this Lecompton

constitution into the party platform?... Oh! but we are told

it is an Administration measure. Because it is an

Administration measure, does it therefore follow that it is

a party measure?" ... "I do not recognize the right of the

President or his Cabinet ... to tell me my duty in the

Senate Chamber." "Am I to be told that I must obey the

Executive and betray my State, or else be branded as a

traitor to the party, and hunted down by all the newspapers

that share the patronage of the government, and every man

who holds a petty office in any part of my State to have the

question put to him, 'Are you Douglas's enemy? if not, your

head comes off.'" "I intend to perform my duty in

accordance with my own convictions. Neither the frowns of

power nor the influence of patronage will change my action,

or drive me from my principles. I stand firmly, immovably

upon those great principles of self-government and state

sovereignty upon which the campaign was fought and the

election won.... If, standing firmly by my principles, I

shall be driven into private life, it is a fate that has no

terrors for me. I prefer private life, preserving my own

self-respect and manhood, to abject and servile submission

to executive will. If the alternative be private life or

servile obedience to executive will, I am prepared to

retire. Official position has no charms for me when deprived

of that freedom of thought and action which becomes a

gentleman and a senator.'"[659]

On the following day, the Senate passed the bill for the admission of

Kansas under the Lecompton constitution, having rejected the amendment

of Crittenden to submit that constitution to a vote of the people of

Kansas. A similar amendment, however, was carried in the House. As

neither chamber would recede from its position, a conference committee

was appointed to break the deadlock.[660] It was from this committee,

controlled by Lecomptonites, that the famous English bill emanated.

Stated briefly, the substance of this compromise measure--for such it

was intended to be--was as follows: Congress was to offer to Kansas a

conditional grant of public lands; if this land ordinance should be

accepted by a popular vote, Kansas was to be admitted to the Union

with the Lecompton constitution by proclamation of the President; if

it should be rejected, Kansas was not to be admitted until the

Territory had a population equal to the unit of representation

required for the House of Representatives.

Taken all in all, the bill was as great a concession as could be

expected from the administration. Not all were willing to say that the

bill provided for a vote on the constitution, but Northern adherents

could point to the vote on the land ordinance as an indirect vote upon

the constitution. It is not quite true to say that the land grant was

a bribe to the voters of Kansas. As a matter of fact, the amount of

land granted was only equal to that usually offered to the

Territories, and it was considerably less than the area specified in

the Lecompton constitution. Moreover, even if the land ordinance were

defeated in order to reject the constitution, the Territory was pretty

sure to secure as large a grant at some future time. It was rather in

the alternative held out, that the English bill was unsatisfactory to

those who loved fair play. Still, under the bill, the people of

Kansas, by an act of self-denial, could defeat the Lecompton

constitution. To that extent, the supporters of the administration

yielded to the importunities of the champion of popular sovereignty.

Under these circumstances it would not be strange if Douglas

"wavered."[661] Here was an opportunity to close the rift between

himself and the administration, to heal party dissensions, perhaps to

save the integrity of the Democratic party and the Union. And the

price which he would have to pay was small. He could assume, plausibly

enough,--as he had done many times before in his career,--that the

bill granted all that he had ever asked. He was morally sure that the

people of Kansas would reject the land grant to rid themselves of the

Lecompton fraud. Why hesitate then as to means, when the desired end

was in clear view?

Douglas found himself subjected to a new pressure, harder even to

resist than any he had yet felt. Some of his staunch supporters in the

anti-Lecompton struggle went over to the administration, covering

their retreat by just such excuses as have been suggested. Was he

wiser and more conscientious than they? A refusal to accept the

proffered olive branch now meant,--he knew it well,--the

irreconcilable enmity of the Buchanan faction. And he was not asked to

recant, but only to accept what he had always deemed the very essence

of statesmanship, a compromise. His Republican allies promptly evinced

their distrust. They fully expected him to join his former associates.

From them he could expect no sympathy in such a dilemma.[662] His

political ambitions, no doubt, added to his perplexity. They were

bound up in the fate of the party, the integrity of which was now

menaced by his revolt. On the other hand, he was fully conscious that

his Illinois constituency approved of his opposition to Lecomptonism

and would regard a retreat across this improvised political bridge as

both inglorious and treacherous. Agitated by conflicting emotions,

Douglas made a decision which probably cost him more anguish than any

he ever made; and when all has been said to the contrary, love of fair

play would seem to have been his governing motive.[663]

When Douglas rose to address the Senate on the English bill, April

29th, he betrayed some of the emotion under which he had made his

decision. He confessed an "anxious desire" to find such provisions as

would permit him to support the bill; but he was painfully forced to

declare that he could not find the principle for which he had

contended, fairly carried out. He was unable to reconcile popular

sovereignty with the proposed intervention of Congress in the English

bill. "It is intervention with inducements to control the result. It

is intervention with a bounty on the one side and a penalty on the

other."[664] He frankly admitted that he did not believe there was

enough in the bounty nor enough in the penalty to influence materially

the vote of the people of Kansas; but it involved "the principle of

freedom of election and--the great principle of self-government upon

which our institutions rest." And upon this principle he took his

stand. "With all the anxiety that I have had," said he with deep

feeling, "to be able to arrive at a conclusion in harmony with the

overwhelming majority of my political friends in Congress, I could not

bring my judgment or conscience to the conclusion that this was a

fair, impartial, and equal application of the principle."[665]

As though to make reconciliation with the administration impossible,

Douglas went on to express his distrust of the provision of the bill

for a board of supervisors of elections. Instead of a board of four,

two of whom should represent the Territory and two the Federal

government, as the Crittenden bill had provided, five were to

constitute the board, of whom three were to be United States

officials. "Does not this change," asked Douglas significantly, "give

ground for apprehension that you may have the Oxford, the Shawnee, and

the Delaware Crossing and Kickapoo frauds re-enacted at this

election?"[666] The most suspicions Republican could hardly have dealt

an unkinder thrust.

There could be no manner of doubt as to the outcome of the English

bill in the Senate. Douglas, Stuart, and Broderick were the only

Democrats to oppose its passage, Pugh having joined the majority. The

bill passed the House also, nine of Douglas's associates in the

anti-Lecompton fight going over to the administration.[667] Douglas

accepted this defection with philosophic equanimity, indulging in no

vindictive feelings.[668] Had he not himself felt misgivings as to his

own course?

By midsummer the people of Kansas had recorded nearly ten thousand

votes against the land ordinance and the Lecompton constitution. The

administration had failed to make Kansas a slave State. Yet the

Supreme Court had countenanced the view that Kansas was legally a

slave Territory. What, then, became of the great fundamental principle

of popular sovereignty? This was the question which Douglas was now

called upon to answer.

* * * * *

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 621: Report of the Covode Committee, pp. 105-106; Cutts,

Constitutional and Party Questions, p. 111; Speech of Douglas at

Milwaukee, Wis., October 14, 1860, Chicago _Times and Herald_, October

17, 1860.]

[Footnote 622: Spring, Kansas, p. 213; Rhodes, History of the United

States, II, p. 274.]

[Footnote 623: Rhodes, History of the United States, II, pp. 277-278.]

[Footnote 624: _Ibid._, pp. 278-279; Spring, Kansas, p. 223.]

[Footnote 625: See Article VII, of the Kansas constitution, Senate

Reports, No. 82, 35 Cong., 1 Sess.]

[Footnote 626: Schedule Section 14.]

[Footnote 627: Covode Report, p. 111.]

[Footnote 628: Chicago _Times_, November 19, 1857.]

[Footnote 629: Chicago _Times_, November 20 and 21, 1857.]

[Footnote 630: Speech at Milwaukee, October 14, 1860, Chicago _Times

and Herald_, October 17, 1860.]

[Footnote 631: New York _Tribune_, December 3, 1857.]

[Footnote 632: _Globe_, 35 Cong., 1 Sess., p. 5.]

[Footnote 633: Chicago _Times_, December 19, 1857.]

[Footnote 634: _Globe_, 35 Cong., 1 Sess., p. 17.]

[Footnote 635: _Globe_, 35 Cong., 1 Sess., pp. 17-18.]

[Footnote 636: "I spoke rapidly, without preparation," he afterward

said. _Globe_, 35 Cong., 1 Sess., p. 47.]

[Footnote 637: _Globe_, 35 Cong., 1 Sess., p. 18.]

[Footnote 638: New York _Tribune_, December 9, 1857.]

[Footnote 639: New York _Tribune_, December 10, 1857.]

[Footnote 640: _Globe_, 35 Cong., 1 Sess., pp. 21-22.]

[Footnote 641: _Globe_, 5 Cong., 1 Sess., p. 120.]

[Footnote 642: _Ibid._, p. 137.]

[Footnote 643: Chicago _Times_, December 24, 1857.]

[Footnote 644: _Ibid._, December 23, 1857.]

[Footnote 645: Correspondent to Cleveland _Plaindealer_, quoted in

Chicago _Times_, January 29, 1858.]

[Footnote 646: Mrs. Jefferson Davis to Mrs. Pierce, MS. Letter, April

4, 1858.]

[Footnote 647: Mrs. Roger Pryor, Reminiscences of Peace and War, pp.

69-70.]

[Footnote 648: _Ibid._, Chapter 4.]

[Footnote 649: Rhodes, History of the United States, II, p. 289.]

[Footnote 650: Message of February 2, 1858.]

[Footnote 651: Senate Report No. 82, 35 Cong., 1 Sess., February 18,

1858.]

[Footnote 652: Minority Report, p. 52.]

[Footnote 653: Minority Report, p. 64.]

[Footnote 654: _Globe_, 35 Cong., 1 Sess., p. 502.]

[Footnote 655: _Globe_, 35 Cong., 1 Sess., pp. 572-573.]

[Footnote 656: Washington _Union_, February 26, 1858.]

[Footnote 657: Richmond _South_, quoted in Chicago _Times_, December

18, 1857.]

[Footnote 658: Sheahan, Douglas, p. 328; _Globe_, 35 Cong., 1 Sess.,

App., pp. 193-194.]

[Footnote 659: _Globe_, 35 Cong., 1 Sess., App., pp. 194-201,

_passim._]

[Footnote 660: Rhodes, History of the United States, II, pp. 297-299.]

[Footnote 661: Wilson, Rise and Fall of the Slave Power, II, p. 563.]

[Footnote 662: Wilson, Rise and Fall of the Slave Power, II, pp.

566-567.]

[Footnote 663: This cannot, of course, be demonstrated, but it accords

with his subsequent conduct.]

[Footnote 664: _Globe_, 35 Cong., 1 Sess., p. 1869.]

[Footnote 665: _Ibid._, p. 1870.]

[Footnote 666: _Globe_, 35 Cong., 1 Sess., p. 1870.]

[Footnote 667: Rhodes, History of the United States, II, p. 300.]

[Footnote 668: Cox, Three Decades of Federal Legislation, p. 58.]

Stephen A. Douglas: A Study in American Politics · 第 3 / 8 章