Mr. Webster resigns his Place in Mr. Tyler's Cabinet.--Attempts to
draw public Attention to the projected Annexation of
Texas.--Supports Mr. Clay's Nomination for the Presidency.--Causes
of the Failure of that Nomination.--Mr. Webster returns to the
Senate of the United States.--Admission of Texas to the Union.--The
War with Mexico.--Mr. Webster's Course in Reference to the
War.--Death of Major Webster in Mexico.--Mr. Webster's unfavorable
Opinion of the Mexican Government.--Settlement of the Oregon
Controversy.--Mr. Webster's Agency in effecting the
Adjustment.--Revival of the Sub-Treasury System and Repeal of the
Tariff Law of 1842.--Southern Tour.--Success of the Mexican War and
Acquisition of the Mexican Provinces.--Efforts in Congress to
organize a Territorial Government for these Provinces.--Great
Exertions of Mr. Webster on the last Night of the
Session.--Nomination of General Taylor, and Course of Mr. Webster in
Reference to it.--A Constitution of State Government adopted by
California prohibiting Slavery.--Increase of Antislavery
Agitation.--Alarming State of Affairs.--Mr. Webster's Speech for the
Union.--Circumstances under which it was made, and Motives by which
he was influenced.--General Taylor's Death, and the Accession of Mr.
Fillmore to the Presidency.--Mr. Webster called to the Department of
State.
Mr. Webster remained in the Department of State but a little over two
years. His last act was the preparation of the instructions of Mr.
Cushing, who had been appointed Commissioner to China. Difficulties had
occurred the summer before, between President Tyler and some of the
members of his Cabinet, and all of those gentlemen, with the exception
of Mr. Webster, tendered their resignations, which were accepted. Hard
thoughts were entertained of Mr. Webster in some quarters for continuing
to hold his seat after the resignation of his colleagues. President
Tyler, however, had in no degree withdrawn his confidence from Mr.
Webster in reference to the foreign affairs of the country, nor
interfered with the administration of his department, and Mr. Webster
conceived that the interests involved in his remaining at his post were
far too important to be sacrificed to punctilio. His own sense of duty
in this respect was confirmed by the unanimous counsel of the
Massachusetts delegation in Congress, and by judicious friends in all
parts of the country. In fact, it will be remembered that when
difficulties sprung up between Mr. Tyler and the Whig party in Congress,
in 1842, the Whig press generally throughout the country called upon the
members of the Cabinet appointed by General Harrison to retain their
places till they should be removed by Mr. Tyler.
Mr. Webster remained in private life during the residue of President
Tyler's administration, occupied as usual with professional pursuits,
and enjoying in the appropriate seasons the retirement of his farm. He
endeavored by private communications to arouse the feeling of the North
to the projects which he perceived to be in agitation for the annexation
of Texas but the danger was regarded at that time as too remote to be
contended against. A short time only elapsed before the fulfilment of
his anticipations was forced upon the country, with fearful urgency, and
a train of consequences of which it will be left to a late posterity to
witness the full development. Between the years 1843 and 1845 the
fortunes of the United States were subjected to an influence, for good
or for evil, not to be exhausted for centuries.
The nomination of Mr. Clay to the Presidency in 1844 was cordially
supported by Mr. Webster. He took the field, as in the summer of 1840 in
favor of General Harrison. The proofs of the untiring zeal with which he
entered into the canvass, and of the great power and fertility with
which he discussed the various topics of the day, will be seen in the
second volume of the present collection. It has, however, been found
impossible to insert more than a selection of the speeches made by him
during the campaign. Others not inferior in merit and interest were made
by him in the course of the summer and autumn of 1844.
It is well known that the result of this election was decisive of the
question of the annexation of Texas. The opinions expressed by Mr. Van
Buren against the immediate consummation of that project had prevented
his receiving the nomination of the Baltimore Convention. Mr. Clay was
pledged against the measure, and Mr. Polk was selected as its sure
friend. If in 1844 the friends of Mr. Van Buren, instead of giving in
their adhesion to the Baltimore nomination (which was in fact turning
the scale in favor of Texas), had been prepared, as in 1848, to support
a separate nomination, or even if the few thousand votes cast by the
"Liberty party" against Mr. Clay had been given in his favor, he would
have been chosen President of the United States, to the indefinite
postponement of the annexation of Texas and the Mexican war, with all
their consequences. But in great things as in small, men throw away the
substance while they grasp at the shadow.
At the first session of the Twenty-ninth Congress (1845-46), Mr. Webster
took his seat as the successor of Mr. Choate in the Senate of the United
States. The question of the admission of Texas was decided at the very
commencement of the session. It was opposed by Mr. Webster. To all the
other objections to the measure in his mind was added that of
unconstitutionality. The annexation was now brought about simply by a
joint resolution of the two houses, after it had been found impossible
to effect it by treaty, the only form known to the Constitution by which
a compact can be entered into with a foreign power. Mr. Jefferson was of
opinion in 1803, that even a treaty with France was not sufficient for
the annexation of Louisiana, but that an amendment of the Constitution
was necessary for that purpose. In 1845 the executive and a majority of
Congress, having failed to carry the ratification of a treaty of
annexation by the constitutional majority, scrupled not to accomplish
their purpose by a joint resolution of the two houses; and this measure
was effected under the lead of statesmen who claim to construe the
Constitution with literal strictness. Events like these furnish a
painful illustration of the frailty of constitutional restraints as a
barrier against the consummation of the favorite measures of a dominant
party.
The great event of the administration of President Polk was the war with
Mexico. The time has not yet arrived when the counsels under which this
war was brought about can be fully unfolded. On the 2d of December,
1845, in his first annual message, having communicated to Congress the
acceptance by Texas of the terms of annexation offered by the joint
resolution, President Polk thus expressed himself:--
"This accession to our territory has been a bloodless achievement.
No arm of force has been raised to produce the result. The sword has
had no part in the victory. We have not sought to extend our
territorial possessions by conquest, or our republican institutions
over a reluctant people. It was the deliberate homage of each people
to the great principle of our federative Union."
The proffered annexation of Texas had been declined both by General
Jackson and Mr. Van Buren, on the ground that, unless made with the
consent of Mexico, it would involve a war with that power. That this
would be the effect was not less certain on the 2d of December, 1845,
when Congress were congratulated on the "bloodless" acquisition, than it
was when, on the 13th of January following, General Taylor was
instructed to occupy the left bank of the Rio del Norte. In fact, in the
very message in which President Polk remarks to Congress "that the sword
had had no part in the victory," he gives them also the significant
information, that, upon the earnest appeal both of the Congress and
convention of Texas, he had ordered "an efficient military force to take
a position between the Nueces and the Del Norte."
This force, however efficient in proportion to its numbers and in virtue
of the gallantry and skill of its commander, was found to be inadequate
to sustain the brunt of the Mexican arms. Rapid movements on the part of
Generals Ampudia and Arista, commanding on the frontier, seriously
endangered the safety of General Taylor's force, and it became necessary
for Congress to strengthen it by prompt reinforcements. In this way the
war was commenced. No formal declaration had taken place, nor had it
been in the power of Congress to make known its will on the subject,
till an absolute necessity arose of reinforcing General Taylor, and the
subject had ceased to be one for legislative discretion.
Under these circumstances it was of course impossible for Mr. Webster to
approve the war. It had been brought on by the executive will, and
without the concurrence of Congress till Congress had ceased to have an
option, and its well-known ulterior objects were such as he could not
but contemplate with equal disapprobation and alarm. Still, however, in
common with the body of his political friends, in and out of Congress,
he abstained from all factious opposition, and all measures calculated
to embarrass the government. The supplies were voted for by him, but he
never ceased to urge upon the President to pursue a magnanimous policy
toward the distracted and misgoverned country with which we had been
brought in collision. Nor did his opinions of the character of the war
lead him to discourage the inclination of his younger son, Mr. Edward
Webster, to accept a commission in the regiment of Massachusetts
Volunteers. This young gentleman had evinced an energy beyond his years,
and practical talent of a high order, as a member of the commission for
marking the boundary line between Maine and the British Provinces under
the treaty of Washington. His friends looked forward with confidence to
his running a brilliant military career. These hopes, like those which
accompanied so many other gallant and patriotic spirits to the scene of
action, were destined to be early blasted. Major Webster fell a victim
to the labors and exposures of the service, and to the climate of the
country, under the walls of Mexico.
To avoid all misconception, it may be proper to state that Mr. Webster
has at all times entertained an unfavorable opinion of the various
administrations by which Mexico, almost ever since her revolution, has
been successively misgoverned. He has felt constrained to regard the
greater part of them as military factions, bent more upon supplanting
each other than upon promoting the welfare of their country. He was
fully aware of the justice of many of the complaints of citizens of the
United States for wrongs inflicted and justice withheld. Both while in
the executive government himself, and as a member of Congress, he had
uniformly expressed himself in terms of severe condemnation of the
conduct of the Mexican government in withholding or delaying redress;
and he foresaw and foretold that, in obstinately refusing to recognize
the independence of Texas, she was laying up for herself a store of
consequences the most humiliating and disastrous. Nothing but the most
deplorable infatuation could have led the government of Mexico to
suppose, that, after the independence of Texas had been recognized by
the United States, Great Britain, France, and Belgium, it would be
possible for a power as feeble as that of Mexico to reduce the
rebellious province to submission. If any confirmation of these
statements is needed, it may be found in Mr. Webster's letter to Mr. de
Bocanegra, in the sixth volume of this collection.
The settlement of the controversy with England relative to the boundary
of Oregon was effected in the first year of Mr. Polk's administration.
The foundations for this adjustment had long been laid; in fact, as long
ago as the administration of Mr. Monroe, the United States had offered
to England the obvious basis of the extension of the forty-ninth degree
of latitude to the Pacific. Great Britain allowed herself to be
influenced by the Hudson's Bay Company so far, as to insist upon
following the course of the Columbia down to the sea. She even took the
extravagant ground that, although the United States, by the Louisiana
and Florida treaties, combined the Spanish and the French titles with
that of actual contiguity and prior discovery of the Columbia River,
they had no exclusive title to any portion of the territory, but that it
was all subject to her own joint and rival claim. This unreasonable
pretension brought the two countries to the verge of war. The Baltimore
Convention, in the year 1844, set up a claim, equally unreasonable, to
the whole of the territory. President Polk in his inaugural message,
quoting the words of the resolution of the Baltimore Convention,
pronounced our title to the territory to be "clear and unquestionable."
The assertion of these opposite extremes of pretension happily resulted
in the final adjustment on the forty-ninth degree. Mr. Webster had
uniformly been of opinion that this was the fair basis of settlement.
Had he supposed that an arrangement could have been effected on this
basis with Lord Ashburton, he would gladly have included it in the
treaty of Washington. After Mr. Webster's retirement from the Department
of State, it is stated by President Polk that Mr. Upshur instructed Mr.
Everett to offer that line to the British government; but the
negotiation had in the mean time, by the appointment of Mr. Pakenham,
been transferred to Washington. The offer of the forty-ninth degree of
latitude was renewed to Mr. Pakenham, but accompanied with conditions
which led him to decline it, and to express the hope that the United
States would make "some further proposal for the settlement of the
Oregon question more consistent with fairness and equity, and with the
reasonable expectations of the British government." The offer thus
injudiciously rejected was withdrawn by the administration. In this
dangerous juncture of affairs, the following incidents occurred, which
we give in the words of the "London Examiner":
"In reply to a question put to him in reference to the present war
establishments of this country, and the propriety of applying the
principle of arbitration in the settlement of disputes arising among
nations, Mr. McGregor, one of the candidates for the representation
of Glasgow, took occasion to narrate the following very important
and remarkable anecdote in connection with our recent, but now
happily terminated differences with the United States on the Oregon
question. At the time our ambassador at Washington, the Hon. Mr.
Pakenham, refused to negotiate on the forty-ninth parallel of north
latitude as the basis of a treaty, and when by that refusal the
danger of a rupture between Great Britain and America became really
imminent, Mr. Daniel Webster, formerly Secretary of State to the
American government, wrote a letter to Mr. McGregor, in which he
strongly deprecated Mr. Pakenham's conduct, which, if persisted in
and adopted at home, would, to a certainty, embroil the two
countries, and suggested an equitable compromise, taking the
forty-ninth parallel as the basis of an adjustment. Mr. McGregor
agreeing entirely with Mr. Webster in the propriety of a mutual
giving and taking to avoid a rupture, and the more especially as the
whole territory in dispute was not worth L20,000 to either power,
while the preparations alone for a war would cost a great deal more
before the parties could come into actual conflict, communicated the
contents of Mr. Webster's letter to Lord John Russell, who at the
time was living in the neighborhood of Edinburgh, and, in reply,
received a letter from Lord John, in which he stated his entire
accordance with the proposal recommended by Mr. Webster, and
approved of by Mr. McGregor, and requested the latter, as he (Lord
John) was not in a position to do it himself, to intimate his
opinion to Lord Aberdeen. Mr. McGregor, through Lord Canning,
Under-Secretary for the Foreign Department, did so, and the result
was, that the first packet that left England carried out to America
the proposal, in accordance with the communication already referred
to, on which the treaty of Oregon was happily concluded. Mr.
McGregor may, therefore, be very justly said to have been the
instrument of preserving the peace of the world; and for that alone,
even if he had no other services to appeal to, he has justly earned
the applause and admiration, not of his own countrymen only, but of
all men who desire to promote the best interests of the human
race."
Without wishing to detract in any degree from the praise due to Mr.
McGregor for his judicious and liberal conduct on this occasion, the
credit of the main result is exclusively due to his American
correspondent. A powerful influence was ascribed also to an able article
in the Edinburgh Review for April, 1845, in which the reasonableness of
this basis of settlement was set forth with great ability.
The first session of the Twenty-ninth Congress was signalized by the
revival of the sub-treasury system, and the overthrow of the tariff of
1842. At a moment when the public finances were, in reference to the
means of collection, custody, and transfer, in a sound and healthy
condition, the administration deemed it expedient to subject the country
and the treasury to the hazard and inconvenience of a change. Mr.
Webster spoke with equal earnestness and power against the renewal of
experiments which had already proved so disastrous; but the bill was
carried by a party vote. The same success attended the President's
recommendation of an entire change in the revenue system, by which,
instead of specific duties, _ad valorem_ duties were to be assessed on
the foreign valuation. Various other changes were made in the tariff
established in 1842, equally tending to depress our own manufactures,
and to give a preference to foreign over native labor, and this even in
cases where no benefit could be expected to accrue to the treasury from
the change. Mr. Webster made a truly Herculean effort against the
government project, in his speech of the 25th and 26th of July, 1846,
but the decree had gone forth. The scale was turned by the Senators from
the new State of Texas, which had been brought into the Union by the
votes of members of Congress whose constituents had the deepest interest
in sustaining the tariff of 1842.
In the spring of 1847, after the adjournment of Congress, Mr. Webster
undertook a tour to the South. His object was to pass by the way of the
Atlantic States to New Orleans, and to ascend the Mississippi. He had
never seen that part of the Union, and promised himself equal
gratification and instruction from an opportunity, however brief, of
personal inspection. He was ever of opinion that higher motives than
those of curiosity and recreation should lead the citizens of different
parts of the country to the interchange of visits of this kind. That
they had become so much less frequent than they were in former years he
regarded as one of the inauspicious features of the times. He was
accompanied on this excursion by his family. They passed hastily through
Virginia and North Carolina to South Carolina. At Charleston he was
received with the most distinguished attention and cordiality. He was
welcomed on his arrival by an assemblage of the most respectable
citizens. Entertainments were given him by the New England Society of
Charleston and by the Charleston Bar. At these festivals the sentiments
and speeches were of the most cordial description. Similar hospitalities
and honors were paid him at Columbia, Augusta, and Savannah. No trace of
sectional or party feeling detracted from the warmth of his reception.
His visit was everywhere regarded as an interesting public event.
Unhappily, his health failed him on his arrival at Savannah; and the
advance of the season made it impossible for him to execute the original
project of a journey to New Orleans. He was compelled to hasten back to
the North.
Meantime events of higher importance were in progress. Success crowned
our arms in the Mexican war. The military skill, gallantry, and
indomitable resolution of the great captains to whom the chief command
of the war had been committed, (though not by the first choice of the
administration,) aided by the spirit and discipline of the troops,
achieved the conquest of Mexico. Peace was dictated to her from
Washington, and a treaty concluded, by which extensive portions of her
territory, comprising the province of New Mexico and a considerable part
of California, were ceded to the United States. Mr. Webster, foreseeing
that these cessions would prove a Pandora's box of discord and strife
between the different sections of the Union, voted against the
ratification of the treaty. He was sustained in this course by some
Southern Whig Senators, but the constitutional majority deemed any
treaty better than the continuation of the war.
With the restoration of peace, the question what should be done with the
territories presented itself with alarming prominence. Formidable under
any circumstances, it became doubly so in consequence of the discovery
of gold in California, and the prodigious rush to that quarter of
adventurers from every part of the world. Population flocked into and
took possession of the country, its ancient political organization,
feeble at best, was subverted, and the immediate action of Congress was
necessary to prevent a state of anarchy. The House of Representatives
passed a bill providing for the organization of a territorial government
for the provinces newly acquired from Mexico, with the antislavery
proviso, borrowed from the Ordinance of 1787. This bill failed to pass
the Senate, and nothing was done at the first session of the Thirtieth
Congress to meet the existing emergency in California.
At the second session, bills were introduced into the Senate for
erecting California and New Mexico into States; the question of slavery
to be left to the people of the States respectively. These bills,
however, did not pass the Senate. A few days before the close of the
session, Mr. Walker of Wisconsin moved an amendment to the general
appropriation bill for the support of government, providing for the
extension of the revenue laws of the United States over California and
New Mexico; to extend the provisions of the Constitution of the United
States to these territories, together with all the laws applicable to
them; and granting authority to the President to appoint the officers
necessary to carry these provisions into effect. This amendment
prevailed in the Senate, but was further amended in the House, by adding
to it the "Wilmot Proviso." The Senate refused to accede to this
amendment of their amendment, and the two houses were brought to the
verge of a disagreement, which would have prevented the passage of the
general appropriation bill, and stopped the wheels of government. The
debates in the Senate were of the most impassioned kind, and were
protracted till five o'clock of Sunday morning, the 4th of March; when
the Senate, on the suggestion of Mr. Webster, disagreed to the amendment
of the House relative to California, and at the same time receded from
their own amendment, and thus passed the general appropriation bill, as
it originally came from the House. All provision for the territories was
necessarily sacrificed by this course; but a bill which had previously
passed the House, extending the revenue laws of the United States to
California, was passed by the Senate, and rescued the people of
California from an entire destitution of government on behalf of the
United States. The Senate on this occasion was, for the first time since
the adoption of the Constitution, on the verge of disorganization; and
it was felt throughout the day and night, that it was saved from falling
into that condition mainly by the parliamentary tact and personal
influence of Mr. Webster. This tribute was paid to Mr. Webster's arduous
exertions on that occasion by a member of Congress warmly opposed to
him.
Not the least important consequence of the Mexican war was the political
revolution in the United States of which it was the cause. When the
policy of invading and conquering Mexico was determined upon, it was
probably regarded by the administration as a measure calculated to
strengthen their party. Opponents were likely to expose themselves to
odium by disapproving the war. The commanding generals were both Whigs,
and one of them had been named as a candidate for the Presidency. It was
probably thought that, if they succeeded, the glory would accrue to the
administration; if they failed, the discredit would fall upon
themselves.
If anticipations like these were formed, they were signally
disappointed. A series of the most brilliant triumphs crowned the arms
both of General Taylor and General Scott. Those of General Taylor were
first in time; and as they had been preceded by doubts, anxieties, and,
in the case of Buena Vista, by rumors of disaster, they took the
stronger hold of the public mind. The nomination for the Presidency was
not reserved for the Whig convention. It was in effect made at Palto
Alto and Monterey, and was confirmed at Buena Vista. It was a movement
of the people to which resistance was in vain.
Statesmen and civilians, however, might well pause for a moment. The
late experience of the country, under a President elected in consequence
of military popularity, was not favorable to a repetition of the
experiment; and General Taylor was wholly unknown in political life. At
the Whig convention in Philadelphia other distinguished Whigs, General
Scott, Mr. Clay, and Mr. Webster, had divided the votes with General
Taylor. He was, however, selected by a great majority as the candidate
of the party. Mr. Webster took the view of this nomination which might
have been expected from a veteran statesman and a civilian of forty
years' experience in the service of the country. He had, in common with
the whole Whig party, in General Jackson's case, opposed the nomination
of a military chieftain. How many Whigs who hailed General Taylor's
nomination with enthusiasm had as good reasons for so doing as Mr.
Webster had for the moderation and reserve with which he spoke of it in
his Marshfield speech? Few persons, at the present day, will find in
that speech any thing, with respect to General Taylor's nomination, from
which a candid and impartial judgment would dissent; and it is well
known, that, in the progress of the canvass, that nomination found no
firmer supporter than Mr. Webster. On his accession to the Presidency,
General Taylor found Mr. Webster disposed and prepared to give his
administration a cordial and efficient support.
In the summer and autumn of 1849 events of the utmost importance
occurred in California. The people of that region, left almost entirely
without a government by Congress, met in convention to form a
constitution; and although nearly half of the members who were
new-comers were from the Southern States, they unanimously agreed to the
prohibition of slavery. The constitution prepared by the convention was
accepted by the people, and with it they applied for admission to the
Union. General Riley, who had been appointed by the President to command
the forces in that territory, was instructed to facilitate, as far as it
was in his power, the assembling of a convention; and the course pursued
by the convention and the people in the formation of the constitution
was understood to be in all respects approved by President Taylor.
Other occurrences, however, had in the mean time taken place, which
materially increased the difficulties attending the territorial
question. The subject of slavery had for fifteen or twenty years been
agitated with steadily increasing warmth, and for the latter portion of
the period with growing violence. On the acquisition of the Mexican
provinces, the representatives of the non-slaveholding States generally
deemed it their duty to introduce into the acts passed for their
government a restriction analogous to the antislavery proviso of the
Ordinance of 1787. A motion to this effect having been made by Mr.
Wilmot of Pennsylvania, by way of amendment to one of the appropriation
bills passed during the war, the restriction has obtained the name of
the "Wilmot Proviso." This motion in the House of Representatives was
extensively seconded by the press, by popular assemblies, and by
legislative resolutions throughout the non-slaveholding States, and
caused a considerable increase of antislavery agitation.
The South, of course, took an interest in the question not inferior
to that of the North. The extension of the United States on the
southwestern frontier has long been a cardinal point in the policy of
most Southern statesmen. The application of an antislavery proviso to
territories acquired by conquest in that quarter came into direct
conflict with this policy. Meetings were accordingly held at
Washington during the first session of the Thirtieth Congress,
attended by a majority of the members from the slaveholding States,
to take into consideration the measures proper to be adopted. At one
of these meetings a sub-committee was appointed, of which Mr. Calhoun
was chairman, to prepare an address "of the Southern delegates to their
constituents." At a subsequent meeting a substitute for this address
was submitted by Mr. Berrien of Georgia, under the title of an address
"to the people of the United States." The original paper was,
however, adopted in preference, and received the signatures of
forty-eight of the members of Congress from the slaveholding States. Of
these all but two were of the Democratic party.[30]
These proceedings contributed materially to increase the discontents
existing at the South. Nor was the progress of excitement less rapid at
the North. The nomination of General Taylor by the Whig convention,
accompanied by the refusal of that convention to countenance the Wilmot
Proviso, led to the organization of the Free Soil party in the
non-slaveholding States. In the summer of 1848, a convention of
delegates of this party assembled at Buffalo in New York, at which an
antislavery platform was adopted, and Mr. Van Buren was nominated as a
candidate for the Presidency.
These occurrences and the state of feeling which they created, or
indicated, appeared to Mr. Webster to constitute a crisis in the
condition of the country of a most formidable description. Opinion
at the North and South had, in his judgment, either reached, or was
rapidly reaching, a point at which the cooeperation of the two
sections of the country in carrying on the government as coequal
members of the Federal Union would cease to be practicable. The
constitutional opinions and the views on the subject of slavery set
forth in Mr. Calhoun's address he deemed to be such as could never be
acquiesced in by the non-slaveholding States. On the other hand, the
organization of a party on the basis of antislavery agitation at the
North appeared to him equally menacing to the Union. The professions
of attachment to the Union and the Constitution made on both sides,
and often, no doubt, in entire good faith, did but increase the
danger, by their tendency to produce misapprehension and self-deception
as to the really irreconcilable nature of the opposite extremes of
opinion.
It was his profound and anxious sense of the dangers of the Union, in
this crisis of affairs, which reconciled Mr. Webster to the nomination
of General Taylor. He saw in his position as a citizen of a Southern
State and a slaveholder the basis of support to his administration from
that quarter of the Union; while his connection with the Whig party, the
known moderation of his views, with his declared sentiments on the
subject of the Presidential veto, were a sufficient ground for the
confidence of the North. In fact, in the existing state of things, it
was soon apparent that there was no other candidate of either party so
well calculated to allay sectional differences, and guide the vessel of
state over the stormy sea of excitement and agitation.
But whatever reliance might justly have been placed upon the character
and disposition of General Taylor, the prospect of affairs was
sufficiently dark and inauspicious. Thoughtful persons looked forward to
a struggle on the territorial question, at the first session of the
Thirty-first Congress, which would convulse the country. In this state
of things the event which we have already alluded to took place, and
California presented herself for admission as a State, with a
constitution prohibiting slavery. As California was the only portion of
the Mexican territory in reference to which the question was of
practical importance, Mr. Webster derived from this unexpected and
seasonable occurrence a gleam of hope. It removed a topic of controversy
in reference to which it had seemed hopeless to propose any terms of
compromise; and it opened, as it were providentially, the door for an
understanding on other points, on the basis of carrying into execution
existing compacts and constitutional provisions on the one hand, and not
strenuously insisting, on the other hand, upon applying the antislavery
proviso where, as in Utah and New Mexico, he was persuaded it could be
of no practical importance.
On these principles, and with this object in view, Mr. Webster made his
great speech of the 7th of March, 1850.
It would be too much to expect, in reference to a subject of so much
difficulty, and one on which the public mind has been so greatly
excited, that a speech of this description should find universal favor
in any part of the country. It is believed, however, that by the
majority of patriotic and reflecting citizens in every part of the
United States, while on single topics there may be differences of
opinion, it has been regarded as holding out a practical basis for the
adjustment of controversies, which had already gone far to dissolve the
Union, and could not be much longer pursued without producing that
result. If those who have most strongly expressed their dissent from the
doctrines of the speech (we do not, of course, allude to the mere clamor
of political or personal enemies) will pause from the work of
denunciation, and make the attempt themselves to lay down _a practicable
platform_ on which this great controversy can in fact be settled, and
the union of the States perpetuated, they will not find it so hard to
censure what is done by others as to do better themselves. It is quite
easy to construct a Southern platform or a Northern platform; the
difficulty is to find a basis on which South and North will be able and
_willing_ to stand together. Of all those who have condemned the views
of Mr. Webster, who has gone further than he, in the speech of the 7th
of March, 1850, to furnish such a basis? Or rather, we may ask, who of
those that have been loudest in condemnation of his course has taken a
single step towards effecting this paramount object?
Mr. Webster's thoughts are known to have been earnestly and profoundly
employed on this subject from the commencement of the session. He saw
beforehand the difficulties and the dangers incident to the step which
he adopted, but he believed that, unless some such step was taken in the
North, the separation of the States was inevitable. The known state of
opinion of leading members of Congress led him to look for little
support from them. He opened the matter to some of his political
friends, but they did not encourage him in the course he felt bound to
pursue. He found that he could not expect the cooeperation of the members
of Congress from his own State, nor that of many of the members from the
other Northern States. He gave up all attempt to rally beforehand a
party which would sustain him. His own description of his feelings at
the time was, "that he had made up his mind to embark alone on what he
was aware would prove a stormy sea, because, in that case, should final
disaster ensue, there would be but one life lost." But he believed that
the step which he was about to take would be sanctioned by the mass of
the people, and in that reliance he went forward.
While the compromise measures were still undecided before Congress,
about midsummer of 1850, President Taylor was removed from his high
office by death. In the reorganization of the executive occasioned by
this event, Mr. Webster, to the general satisfaction of the country, was
placed by President Fillmore at the head of the administration.
Subsequent events are too recent to need to be described. The
correspondence with the Austrian Charge d'Affaires is the worthy
complement, after an interval of a quarter of a century, to the profound
discussion of international politics contained in the speech of January,
1824, on the revolution in Greece, and that of 1826, on the Congress of
Panama. We have before us a translation of this correspondence furtively
published in Germany, and circulated throughout the Austrian empire. The
fervid appeals to the patriotism of the people, with which Mr. Webster
has electrified the Union on various occasions during the last nine
months, have contributed materially to the great work of sectional
conciliation; and his last noble effort, on laying the corner-stone of
the Capitol, will be read with admiration as long as the Capitol itself
shall last.
* * * * *
Such, in a brief and imperfect narrative, is the public life of Mr.
Webster, extending over a period of forty years, marked by the
occurrence of events of great importance. It has been the aim of the
writer to prevent the pen of the biographer from being too much
influenced by the partiality of the friend. Should he seem to the
candid not wholly to have escaped that error, (which, however, he
trusts will not be the case,) he ventures to hope that it will be
forgiven to an intimacy which commenced in the youth of one of the
parties and the boyhood of the other, and which has subsisted for
nearly half a century. It will be admitted, he thinks, by every one,
that this career, however inadequately delineated, has been one of
singular eminence and brilliancy. Entering upon public life at the
close of the first epoch in the political history of the United
States under the present Constitution, Mr. Webster has stood below
none of the distinguished men who have impressed their character on the
second.
There is a class of public questions in reference to which the opinions
of most men are greatly influenced by prejudices founded in natural
temperament, early association, and real or supposed local interest. As
far as such questions are concerned, it is too much to hope that, in
times of high party excitement, full justice will be done to prominent
statesmen by those of their contemporaries who differ from them. We
greatly err, however, if candid men of all parties, and in all parts of
the country, do not accord to Mr. Webster the praise of having formed to
himself a large and generous view of the character of an American
statesman, and of having adopted the loftiest standard of public
conduct. They will agree that he has conceived, in all its importance,
the position of the country as a member of the great family of nations,
and as the leading republican government. In reference to domestic
politics it will be as generally conceded, that, reposing less than most
public men on a party basis, it has been the main object of his life to
confirm and perpetuate the great work of the constitutional fathers of
the last generation.
By their wisdom and patriotic forethought we are blessed with a system
in which the several States are brought into a union so admirably
composed and balanced,--both complicated and kept distinct with such
skill,--as to seem less a work of human prudence than of Providential
interposition.[31] Mr. Webster has at all times been fully aware of the
evils of anarchy, discord, and civil war at home, and of utter national
insignificance abroad, from which the formation of the Union saved us.
He has been not less sensible to the obstacles to be overcome the perils
to be encountered, and the sufferings to be borne, before this wonderful
framework of government could be established. And he has been firmly
persuaded that, if once destroyed, it can never be reconstructed. With
these views, his political life has been consecrated to the maintenance
in all their strength of the principles on which the Constitution
rests, and to the support of the system of government created by it.
The key to his whole political course is the belief that, when the Union
is dissolved, the internal peace, the vigorous growth, and the
prosperity of the States, and the welfare of their inhabitants, are
blighted for ever, and that, while the Union endures, all else of trial
and calamity which can befall a nation may be remedied or borne. So
believing, he has pursued a course which has earned for him an honored
name among those who have discharged the duty of good citizens with the
most distinguished ability, zeal, and benefit to the country. In the
relations of civilized life, there is no higher service which man can
render to man, than thus to preserve a wise constitution of government
in healthful action. Nor does the most eloquent of the statesmen of
antiquity content himself with pronouncing this the highest human merit.
In that admirable treatise on the Republic, of which some precious
chapters have been restored to us after having been lost for ages, he
does not hesitate to affirm, that there is nothing in which human virtue
approaches nearer the divine, than in establishing and preserving
states: "neque enim ulla res est, in qua propius ad deorum numen virtus
accedat humana, quam civitates aut condere novas aut conservare jam
conditas."[32]
FOOTNOTES
[30] In compiling this narrative much use has been made of the third
volume of the work entitled "The Statesman's Manual," a most
useful work of reference.
[31] This idea is beautifully expressed in the following passage of a
late letter from Mr. Webster, in reply to an invitation from the
citizens of Macon, Georgia:--
"The States are united, not consolidated;
'Not, chaos-like, together crashed and bruised,
But, like the world, harmoniously confused,
Where order in variety we see;
And where, though all things differ, all agree.'"
[32] M. Tulli Ciceronis de Re Publica quae supersunt, edente Angelo
Maio. Lib. I. Sec. 7.
FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND.
INTRODUCTORY NOTE.
The first public anniversary celebration of the landing of the Pilgrims
at Plymouth took place under the auspices of the "Old Colony Club,"
of whose formation an account may be found in the interesting little
work of William S. Russell, Esq., entitled "Guide to Plymouth and
Recollections of the Pilgrims."
This club was formed for general purposes of social intercourse, in
1769; but its members determined, by a vote passed on Monday the 18th of
December of that year, "to keep" Friday, the 22d, in commemoration of
the landing of the fathers. A particular account of the simple
festivities of this first public celebration of the landing of the
Pilgrims will be found at page 220 of Mr. Russell's work.
The following year, the anniversary was celebrated much in the same
manner as in 1769, with the addition of a short address, pronounced
"with modest and decent firmness, by a member of the club, Edward
Winslow, Jr., Esq.," being the first address ever delivered on this
occasion.
In 1771, it was suggested by Rev. Chandler Robbins, pastor of the First
Church at Plymouth, in a letter addressed to the club, "whether it would
not be agreeable, for the entertainment and instruction of the rising
generation on these anniversaries, to have a sermon in public, some part
of the day, peculiarly adapted to the occasion." This recommendation
prevailed, and an appropriate discourse was delivered the following year
by the Rev. Dr. Robbins.
In 1773 the Old Colony Club was dissolved, in consequence of the
conflicting opinions of its members on the great political questions
then agitated. Notwithstanding this event, the anniversary celebrations
of the 22d of December continued without interruption till 1780, when
they were suspended. After an interval of fourteen years, a public
discourse was again delivered by the Rev. Dr. Robbins. Private
celebrations took place the four following years, and from that time
till the year 1819, with one or two exceptions, the day was annually
commemorated, and public addresses were delivered by distinguished
clergymen and laymen of Massachusetts.
In 1820 the "Pilgrim Society" was formed by the citizens of Plymouth and
the descendants of the Pilgrims in other places, desirous of uniting "to
commemorate the landing, and to honor the memory of the intrepid men who
first set foot on Plymouth rock." The foundation of this society gave a
new impulse to the anniversary celebrations of this great event. The
Hon. Daniel Webster was requested to deliver the public address on the
22d of December of that year, and the following discourse was pronounced
by him on the ever-memorable occasion. Great public expectation was
awakened by the fame of the orator; an immense concourse assembled at
Plymouth to unite in the celebration; and it may be safely anticipated,
that some portion of the powerful effect of the following address on the
minds of those who were so fortunate as to hear it, will be perpetuated
by the press to the latest posterity.
From 1820 to the present day, with occasional interruptions, the 22d of
December has been celebrated by the Pilgrim Society. A list of all those
by whom anniversary discourses have been delivered since the first
organization of the Old Colony Club, in 1769, may be found in Mr.
Russell's work.
Nor has the notice of the day been confined to New England. Public
celebrations of the landing of the Pilgrims have been frequent in other
parts of the country, particularly in New York. The New England Society
of that city has rarely permitted the day to pass without appropriate
honors. Similar societies have been formed at Philadelphia, Charleston,
S. C., and Cincinnati, and the day has been publicly commemorated in
several other parts of the country.
FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND.[33]
Let us rejoice that we behold this day. Let us be thankful that we have
lived to see the bright and happy breaking of the auspicious morn, which
commences the third century of the history of New England. Auspicious,
indeed,--bringing a happiness beyond the common allotment of Providence
to men,--full of present joy, and gilding with bright beams the prospect
of futurity, is the dawn that awakens us to the commemoration of the
landing of the Pilgrims.
Living at an epoch which naturally marks the progress of the history of
our native land, we have come hither to celebrate the great event with
which that history commenced. For ever honored be this, the place of our
fathers' refuge! For ever remembered the day which saw them, weary and
distressed, broken in every thing but spirit, poor in all but faith and
courage, at last secure from the dangers of wintry seas, and impressing
this shore with the first footsteps of civilized man!
It is a noble faculty of our nature which enables us to connect our
thoughts, our sympathies, and our happiness with what is distant in
place or time; and, looking before and after, to hold communion at once
with our ancestors and our posterity. Human and mortal although we are,
we are nevertheless not mere insulated beings, without relation to the
past or the future. Neither the point of time, nor the spot of earth, in
which we physically live, bounds our rational and intellectual
enjoyments. We live in the past by a knowledge of its history; and in
the future by hope and anticipation. By ascending to an association with
our ancestors; by contemplating their example and studying their
character; by partaking their sentiments, and imbibing their spirit; by
accompanying them in their toils, by sympathizing in their sufferings,
and rejoicing in their successes and their triumphs; we seem to belong
to their age, and to mingle our own existence with theirs. We become
their contemporaries, live the lives which they lived, endure what they
endured, and partake in the rewards which they enjoyed. And in like
manner, by running along the line of future time, by contemplating the
probable fortunes of those who are coming after us, by attempting
something which may promote their happiness, and leave some not
dishonorable memorial of ourselves for their regard, when we shall sleep
with the fathers, we protract our own earthly being, and seem to crowd
whatever is future, as well as all that is past, into the narrow compass
of our earthly existence. As it is not a vain and false, but an exalted
and religious imagination, which leads us to raise our thoughts from the
orb, which, amidst this universe of worlds, the Creator has given us to
inhabit, and to send them with something of the feeling which nature
prompts, and teaches to be proper among children of the same Eternal
Parent, to the contemplation of the myriads of fellow-beings, with which
his goodness has peopled the infinite of space; so neither is it false
or vain to consider ourselves as interested and connected with our whole
race, through all time; allied to our ancestors; allied to our
posterity; closely compacted on all sides with others; ourselves being
but links in the great chain of being, which begins with the origin of
our race, runs onward through its successive generations, binding
together the past, the present, and the future, and terminating at last,
with the consummation of all things earthly, at the throne of God.
There may be, and there often is, indeed, a regard for ancestry, which
nourishes only a weak pride; as there is also a care for posterity,
which only disguises an habitual avarice, or hides the workings of a low
and grovelling vanity. But there is also a moral and philosophical
respect for our ancestors, which elevates the character and improves the
heart. Next to the sense of religious duty and moral feeling, I hardly
know what should bear with stronger obligation on a liberal and
enlightened mind, than a consciousness of alliance with excellence which
is departed; and a consciousness, too, that in its acts and conduct,
and even in its sentiments and thoughts, it may be actively operating on
the happiness of those who come after it. Poetry is found to have few
stronger conceptions, by which it would affect or overwhelm the mind,
than those in which it presents the moving and speaking image of the
departed dead to the senses of the living. This belongs to poetry, only
because it is congenial to our nature. Poetry is, in this respect, but
the handmaid of true philosophy and morality; it deals with us as human
beings, naturally reverencing those whose visible connection with this
state of existence is severed, and who may yet exercise we know not what
sympathy with ourselves; and when it carries us forward, also, and shows
us the long continued result of all the good we do, in the prosperity of
those who follow us, till it bears us from ourselves, and absorbs us in
an intense interest for what shall happen to the generations after us,
it speaks only in the language of our nature, and affects us with
sentiments which belong to us as human beings.
Standing in this relation to our ancestors and our posterity, we are
assembled on this memorable spot, to perform the duties which that
relation and the present occasion impose upon us. We have come to this
Rock, to record here our homage for our Pilgrim Fathers; our sympathy in
their sufferings; our gratitude for their labors; our admiration of
their virtues; our veneration for their piety; and our attachment to
those principles of civil and religious liberty, which they encountered
the dangers of the ocean, the storms of heaven, the violence of savages,
disease, exile, and famine, to enjoy and to establish. And we would
leave here, also, for the generations which are rising up rapidly to
fill our places, some proof that we have endeavored to transmit the
great inheritance unimpaired; that in our estimate of public principles
and private virtue, in our veneration of religion and piety, in our
devotion to civil and religious liberty, in our regard for whatever
advances human knowledge or improves human happiness, we are not
altogether unworthy of our origin.
There is a local feeling connected with this occasion, too strong to be
resisted; a sort of _genius of the place_, which inspires and awes us.
We feel that we are on the spot where the first scene of our history was
laid; where the hearths and altars of New England were first placed;
where Christianity, and civilization, and letters made their first
lodgement in a vast extent of country, covered with a wilderness, and
peopled by roving barbarians. We are here, at the season of the year at
which the event took place. The imagination irresistibly and rapidly
draws around us the principal features and the leading characters in the
original scene. We cast our eyes abroad on the ocean, and we see where
the little bark, with the interesting group upon its deck, made its slow
progress to the shore. We look around us, and behold the hills and
promontories where the anxious eyes of our fathers first saw the places
of habitation and of rest. We feel the cold which benumbed, and listen
to the winds which pierced them. Beneath us is the Rock,[34] on which
New England received the feet of the Pilgrims. We seem even to behold
them, as they struggle with the elements, and, with toilsome efforts,
gain the shore. We listen to the chiefs in council; we see the
unexampled exhibition of female fortitude and resignation; we hear the
whisperings of youthful impatience, and we see, what a painter of our
own has also represented by his pencil,[35] chilled and shivering
childhood, houseless, but for a mother's arms, couchless, but for a
mother's breast, till our own blood almost freezes. The mild dignity of
CARVER and of BRADFORD; the decisive and soldierlike air and manner of
STANDISH; the devout BREWSTER; the enterprising ALLERTON;[36] the
general firmness and thoughtfulness of the whole band; their conscious
joy for dangers escaped; their deep solicitude about dangers to come;
their trust in Heaven; their high religious faith, full of confidence
and anticipation; all of these seem to belong to this place, and to be
present upon this occasion, to fill us with reverence and admiration.
The settlement of New England by the colony which landed here[37] on the
twenty-second[38] of December, sixteen hundred and twenty, although not
the first European establishment in what now constitutes the United
States, was yet so peculiar in its causes and character, and has been
followed and must still be followed by such consequences, as to give it
a high claim to lasting commemoration. On these causes and consequences,
more than on its immediately attendant circumstances, its importance, as
an historical event, depends. Great actions and striking occurrences,
having excited a temporary admiration, often pass away and are
forgotten, because they leave no lasting results, affecting the
prosperity and happiness of communities. Such is frequently the fortune
of the most brilliant military achievements. Of the ten thousand battles
which have been fought, of all the fields fertilized with carnage, of
the banners which have been bathed in blood, of the warriors who have
hoped that they had risen from the field of conquest to a glory as
bright and as durable as the stars, how few that continue long to
interest mankind! The victory of yesterday is reversed by the defeat of
to-day; the star of military glory, rising like a meteor, like a meteor
has fallen; disgrace and disaster hang on the heels of conquest and
renown; victor and vanquished presently pass away to oblivion, and the
world goes on in its course, with the loss only of so many lives and so
much treasure.
But if this be frequently, or generally, the fortune of military
achievements, it is not always so. There are enterprises, military as
well as civil, which sometimes check the current of events, give a new
turn to human affairs, and transmit their consequences through ages. We
see their importance in their results, and call them great, because
great things follow. There have been battles which have fixed the fate
of nations. These come down to us in history with a solid and permanent
interest, not created by a display of glittering armor, the rush of
adverse battalions, the sinking and rising of pennons, the flight, the
pursuit, and the victory; but by their effect in advancing or retarding
human knowledge, in overthrowing or establishing despotism, in extending
or destroying human happiness. When the traveller pauses on the plain of
Marathon, what are the emotions which most strongly agitate his breast?
What is that glorious recollection, which thrills through his frame, and
suffuses his eyes? Not, I imagine, that Grecian skill and Grecian valor
were here most signally displayed; but that Greece herself was saved. It
is because to this spot, and to the event which has rendered it
immortal, he refers all the succeeding glories of the republic. It is
because, if that day had gone otherwise, Greece had perished. It is
because he perceives that her philosophers and orators, her poets and
painters, her sculptors and architects, her governments and free
institutions, point backward to Marathon, and that their future
existence seems to have been suspended on the contingency, whether the
Persian or the Grecian banner should wave victorious in the beams of
that day's setting sun. And, as his imagination kindles at the
retrospect, he is transported back to the interesting moment; he counts
the fearful odds of the contending hosts; his interest for the result
overwhelms him; he trembles, as if it were still uncertain, and seems to
doubt whether he may consider Socrates and Plato, Demosthenes,
Sophocles, and Phidias, as secure, yet, to himself and to the world.
"If we conquer," said the Athenian commander on the approach of that
decisive day, "if we conquer, we shall make Athens the greatest city of
Greece."[39] A prophecy, how well fulfilled! "If God prosper us," might
have been the more appropriate language of our fathers, when they landed
upon this Rock, "if God prosper us, we shall here begin a work which
shall last for ages; we shall plant here a new society, in the
principles of the fullest liberty and the purest religion; we shall
subdue this wilderness which is before us; we shall fill this region of
the great continent, which stretches almost from pole to pole, with
civilization and Christianity; the temples of the true God shall rise,
where now ascends the smoke of idolatrous sacrifice; fields and gardens,
the flowers of summer, and the waving and golden harvest of autumn,
shall spread over a thousand hills, and stretch along a thousand
valleys, never yet, since the creation, reclaimed to the use of
civilized man. We shall whiten this coast with the canvas of a
prosperous commerce; we shall stud the long and winding shore with a
hundred cities. That which we sow in weakness shall be raised in
strength. From our sincere, but houseless worship, there shall spring
splendid temples to record God's goodness; from the simplicity of our
social union, there shall arise wise and politic constitutions of
government, full of the liberty which we ourselves bring and breathe;
from our zeal for learning, institutions shall spring which shall
scatter the light of knowledge throughout the land, and, in time, paying
back where they have borrowed, shall contribute their part to the great
aggregate of human knowledge; and our descendants, through all
generations, shall look back to this spot, and to this hour, with
unabated affection and regard."
* * * * *
A brief remembrance of the causes which led to the settlement of
this place; some account of the peculiarities and characteristic
qualities of that settlement, as distinguished from other instances
of colonization; a short notice of the progress of New England in the
great interests of society, during the century which is now elapsed;
with a few observations on the principles upon which society and
government are established in this country; comprise all that can be
attempted, and much more than can be satisfactorily performed, on the
present occasion.
* * * * *
Of the motives which influenced the first settlers to a voluntary exile,
induced them to relinquish their native country, and to seek an asylum
in this then unexplored wilderness, the first and principal, no doubt,
were connected with religion. They sought to enjoy a higher degree of
religious freedom, and what they esteemed a purer form of religious
worship, than was allowed to their choice, or presented to their
imitation, in the Old World. The love of religious liberty is a stronger
sentiment, when fully excited, than an attachment to civil or political
freedom. That freedom which the conscience demands, and which men feel
bound by their hope of salvation to contend for, can hardly fail to be
attained. Conscience, in the cause of religion and the worship of the
Deity, prepares the mind to act and to suffer beyond almost all other
causes. It sometimes gives an impulse so irresistible, that no fetters
of power or of opinion can withstand it. History instructs us that this
love of religious liberty, a compound sentiment in the breast of man,
made up of the clearest sense of right and the highest conviction of
duty, is able to look the sternest despotism in the face, and, with
means apparently most inadequate, to shake principalities and powers.
There is a boldness, a spirit of daring, in religious reformers, not to
be measured by the general rules which control men's purposes and
actions. If the hand of power be laid upon it, this only seems to
augment its force and its elasticity, and to cause its action to be more
formidable and violent. Human invention has devised nothing, human power
has compassed nothing, that can forcibly restrain it, when it breaks
forth. Nothing can stop it, but to give way to it; nothing can check it,
but indulgence. It loses its power only when it has gained its object.
The principle of toleration, to which the world has come so slowly, is
at once the most just and the most wise of all principles. Even when
religious feeling takes a character of extravagance and enthusiasm, and
seems to threaten the order of society and shake the columns of the
social edifice, its principal danger is in its restraint. If it be
allowed indulgence and expansion, like the elemental fires, it only
agitates, and perhaps purifies, the atmosphere; while its efforts to
throw off restraint would burst the world asunder.
It is certain, that, although many of them were republicans in
principle, we have no evidence that our New England ancestors would have
emigrated, as they did, from their own native country, would have become
wanderers in Europe, and finally would have undertaken the establishment
of a colony here, merely from their dislike of the political systems of
Europe. They fled not so much from the civil government, as from the
hierarchy, and the laws which enforced conformity to the church
establishment. Mr. Robinson had left England as early as 1608, on
account of the persecutions for nonconformity, and had retired to
Holland. He left England, from no disappointed ambition in affairs of
state, from no regrets at the want of preferment in the church, nor from
any motive of distinction or of gain. Uniformity in matters of religion
was pressed with such extreme rigor, that a voluntary exile seemed the
most eligible mode of escaping from the penalties of noncompliance. The
accession of Elizabeth had, it is true, quenched the fires of
Smithfield, and put an end to the easy acquisition of the crown of
martyrdom. Her long reign had established the Reformation, but
toleration was a virtue beyond her conception, and beyond the age. She
left no example of it to her successor; and he was not of a character
which rendered it probable that a sentiment either so wise or so liberal
would originate with him. At the present period it seems incredible,
that the learned, accomplished, unassuming, and inoffensive Robinson
should neither be tolerated in his peaceable mode of worship in his own
country, nor suffered quietly to depart from it. Yet such was the fact.
He left his country by stealth, that he might elsewhere enjoy those
rights which ought to belong to men in all countries. The departure of
the Pilgrims for Holland is deeply interesting, from its circumstances,
and also as it marks the character of the times, independently of its
connection with names now incorporated with the history of empire. The
embarkation was intended to be made in such a manner, that it might
escape the notice of the officers of government. Great pains had been
taken to secure boats, which should come undiscovered to the shore, and
receive the fugitives; and frequent disappointments had been experienced
in this respect.
At length the appointed time came, bringing with it unusual severity of
cold and rain. An unfrequented and barren heath, on the shores of
Lincolnshire, was the selected spot, where the feet of the Pilgrims were
to tread, for the last time, the land of their fathers. The vessel which
was to receive them did not come until the next day, and in the mean
time the little band was collected, and men and women and children and
baggage were crowded together, in melancholy and distressed confusion.
The sea was rough, and the women and children were already sick, from
their passage down the river to the place of embarkation on the sea. At
length the wished-for boat silently and fearfully approaches the shore,
and men and women and children, shaking with fear and with cold, as many
as the small vessel could bear, venture off on a dangerous sea.
Immediately the advance of horses is heard from behind, armed men
appear, and those not yet embarked are seized, and taken into custody.
In the hurry of the moment, the first parties had been sent on board
without any attempt to keep members of the same family together, and on
account of the appearance of the horsemen, the boat never returned for
the residue. Those who had got away, and those who had not, were in
equal distress. A storm, of great violence, and long duration, arose at
sea, which not only protracted the voyage, rendered distressing by the
want of all those accommodations which the interruption of the
embarkation had occasioned, but also forced the vessel out of her
course, and menaced immediate shipwreck; while those on shore, when they
were dismissed from the custody of the officers of justice, having no
longer homes or houses to retire to, and their friends and protectors
being already gone, became objects of necessary charity, as well as of
deep commiseration.
As this scene passes before us, we can hardly forbear asking, whether
this be a band of malefactors and felons flying from justice. What are
their crimes, that they hide themselves in darkness? To what punishment
are they exposed, that, to avoid it, men, and women, and children, thus
encounter the surf of the North Sea, and the terrors of a night storm?
What induces this armed pursuit, and this arrest of fugitives, of all
ages and both sexes? Truth does not allow us to answer these inquiries
in a manner that does credit to the wisdom or the justice of the times.
This was not the flight of guilt, but of virtue. It was an humble and
peaceable religion, flying from causeless oppression. It was conscience,
attempting to escape from the arbitrary rule of the Stuarts. It was
Robinson and Brewster, leading off their little band from their native
soil, at first to find shelter on the shore of the neighboring
continent, but ultimately to come hither; and having surmounted all
difficulties and braved a thousand dangers, to find here a place of
refuge and of rest. Thanks be to God, that this spot was honored as the
asylum of religious liberty! May its standard, reared here, remain for
ever! May it rise up as high as heaven, till its banner shall fan the
air of both continents, and wave as a glorious ensign of peace and
security to the nations!
* * * * *
The peculiar character, condition, and circumstances of the colonies
which introduced civilization and an English race into New England,
afford a most interesting and extensive topic of discussion. On these,
much of our subsequent character and fortune has depended. Their
influence has essentially affected our whole history, through the two
centuries which have elapsed; and as they have become intimately
connected with government, laws, and property, as well as with our
opinions on the subjects of religion and civil liberty, that influence
is likely to continue to be felt through the centuries which shall
succeed. Emigration from one region to another, and the emission of
colonies to people countries more or less distant from the residence of
the parent stock, are common incidents in the history of mankind; but it
has not often, perhaps never, happened, that the establishment of
colonies should be attempted under circumstances, however beset with
present difficulties and dangers, yet so favorable to ultimate success,
and so conducive to magnificent results, as those which attended the
first settlements on this part of the American continent. In other
instances, emigration has proceeded from a less exalted purpose, in
periods of less general intelligence, or more without plan and by
accident; or under circumstances, physical and moral, less favorable to
the expectation of laying a foundation for great public prosperity and
future empire.
A great resemblance exists, obviously, between all the English colonies
established within the present limits of the United States; but the
occasion attracts our attention more immediately to those which took
possession of New England, and the peculiarities of these furnish a
strong contrast with most other instances of colonization.
Among the ancient nations, the Greeks, no doubt, sent forth from their
territories the greatest number of colonies. So numerous, indeed, were
they, and so great the extent of space over which they were spread, that
the parent country fondly and naturally persuaded herself, that by means
of them she had laid a sure foundation for the universal civilization of
the world. These establishments, from obvious causes, were most numerous
in places most contiguous; yet they were found on the coasts of France,
on the shores of the Euxine Sea, in Africa, and even, as is alleged, on
the borders of India. These emigrations appear to have been sometimes
voluntary and sometimes compulsory; arising from the spontaneous
enterprise of individuals, or the order and regulation of government. It
was a common opinion with ancient writers, that they were undertaken in
religious obedience to the commands of oracles, and it is probable that
impressions of this sort might have had more or less influence; but it
is probable, also, that on these occasions the oracles did not speak a
language dissonant from the views and purposes of the state.
Political science among the Greeks seems never to have extended to the
comprehension of a system, which should be adequate to the government of
a great nation upon principles of liberty. They were accustomed only to
the contemplation of small republics, and were led to consider an
augmented population as incompatible with free institutions. The desire
of a remedy for this supposed evil, and the wish to establish marts for
trade, led the governments often to undertake the establishment of
colonies as an affair of state expediency. Colonization and commerce,
indeed, would naturally become objects of interest to an ingenious and
enterprising people, inhabiting a territory closely circumscribed in its
limits, and in no small part mountainous and sterile; while the islands
of the adjacent seas, and the promontories and coasts of the neighboring
continents, by their mere proximity, strongly solicited the excited
spirit of emigration. Such was this proximity, in many instances, that
the new settlements appeared rather to be the mere extension of
population over contiguous territory, than the establishment of distant
colonies. In proportion as they were near to the parent state, they
would be under its authority, and partake of its fortunes. The colony at
Marseilles might perceive lightly, or not at all, the sway of Phocis;
while the islands in the AEgean Sea could hardly attain to independence
of their Athenian origin. Many of these establishments took place at an
early age; and if there were defects in the governments of the parent
states, the colonists did not possess philosophy or experience
sufficient to correct such evils in their own institutions, even if they
had not been, by other causes, deprived of the power. An immediate
necessity, connected with the support of life, was the main and direct
inducement to these undertakings, and there could hardly exist more than
the hope of a successful imitation of institutions with which they were
already acquainted, and of holding an equality with their neighbors in
the course of improvement. The laws and customs, both political and
municipal, as well as the religious worship of the parent city, were
transferred to the colony; and the parent city herself, with all such of
her colonies as were not too far remote for frequent intercourse and
common sentiments, would appear like a family of cities, more or less
dependent, and more or less connected. We know how imperfect this system
was, as a system of general politics, and what scope it gave to those
mutual dissensions and conflicts which proved so fatal to Greece.
But it is more pertinent to our present purpose to observe, that nothing
existed in the character of Grecian emigrations, or in the spirit and
intelligence of the emigrants, likely to give a new and important
direction to human affairs, or a new impulse to the human mind. Their
motives were not high enough, their views were not sufficiently large
and prospective. They went not forth, like our ancestors, to erect
systems of more perfect civil liberty, or to enjoy a higher degree of
religious freedom. Above all, there was nothing in the religion and
learning of the age, that could either inspire high purposes, or give
the ability to execute them. Whatever restraints on civil liberty, or
whatever abuses in religious worship, existed at the time of our
fathers' emigration, yet even then all was light in the moral and mental
world, in comparison with its condition in most periods of the ancient
states. The settlement of a new continent, in an age of progressive
knowledge and improvement, could not but do more than merely enlarge the
natural boundaries of the habitable world. It could not but do much more
even than extend commerce and increase wealth among the human race. We
see how this event has acted, how it must have acted, and wonder only
why it did not act sooner, in the production of moral effects, on the
state of human knowledge, the general tone of human sentiments, and the
prospects of human happiness. It gave to civilized man not only a new
continent to be inhabited and cultivated, and new seas to be explored;
but it gave him also a new range for his thoughts, new objects for
curiosity, and new excitements to knowledge and improvement.
Roman colonization resembled, far less than that of the Greeks, the
original settlements of this country. Power and dominion were the
objects of Rome, even in her colonial establishments. Her whole exterior
aspect was for centuries hostile and terrific She grasped at dominion,
from India to Britain, and her measures of colonization partook of the
character of her general system. Her policy was military, because
her objects were power, ascendency, and subjugation. Detachments of
emigrants from Rome incorporated themselves with, and governed, the
original inhabitants of conquered countries. She sent citizens where
she had first sent soldiers; her law followed her sword. Her colonies
were a sort of military establishment; so many advanced posts in the
career of her dominion. A governor from Rome ruled the new colony with
absolute sway, and often with unbounded rapacity. In Sicily, in Gaul,
in Spain, and in Asia, the power of Rome prevailed, not nominally
only, but really and effectually. Those who immediately exercised it
were Roman; the tone and tendency of its administration, Roman. Rome
herself continued to be the heart and centre of the great system which
she had established. Extortion and rapacity, finding a wide and often
rich field of action in the provinces, looked nevertheless to the
banks of the Tiber, as the scene in which their ill-gotten treasures
should be displayed; or, if a spirit of more honest acquisition
prevailed, the object, nevertheless, was ultimate enjoyment in Rome
itself. If our own history and our own times did not sufficiently
expose the inherent and incurable evils of provincial government, we
might see them portrayed, to our amazement, in the desolated and
ruined provinces of the Roman empire. We might hear them, in a voice
that terrifies us, in those strains of complaint and accusation,
which the advocates of the provinces poured forth in the Roman
Forum:--"Quas res luxuries in flagitiis, crudelitas in suppliciis,
avaritia in rapinis, superbia in contumeliis, efficere potuisset, eas
omnes sese pertulisse."
As was to be expected, the Roman Provinces partook of the fortunes,
as well as of the sentiments and general character, of the seat of
empire. They lived together with her, they flourished with her, and fell
with her. The branches were lopped away even before the vast and
venerable trunk itself fell prostrate to the earth. Nothing had
proceeded from her which could support itself; and bear up the name
of its origin, when her own sustaining arm should be enfeebled or
withdrawn. It was not given to Rome to see, either at her zenith or
in her decline, a child of her own, distant, indeed, and independent of
her control, yet speaking her language and inheriting her blood,
springing forward to a competition with her own power, and a comparison
with her own great renown. She saw not a vast region of the earth
peopled from her stock, full of states and political communities,
improving upon the models of her institutions, and breathing in fuller
measure the spirit which she had breathed in the best periods of her
existence; enjoying and extending her arts and her literature;
rising rapidly from political childhood to manly strength and
independence; her offspring, yet now her equal; unconnected with the
causes which might affect the duration of her own power and greatness;
of common origin, but not linked to a common fate; giving ample
pledge, that her name should not be forgotten, that her language
should not cease to be used among men; that whatsoever she had done
for human knowledge and human happiness should be treasured up and
preserved; that the record of her existence and her achievements
should not be obscured, although, in the inscrutable purposes of
Providence, it might be her destiny to fall from opulence and
splendor; although the time might come, when darkness should settle
on all her hills; when foreign or domestic violence should overturn
her altars and her temples; when ignorance and despotism should fill
the places where Laws, and Arts, and Liberty had flourished; when the
feet of barbarism should trample on the tombs of her consuls, and the
walls of her senate-house and forum echo only to the voice of savage
triumph. She saw not this glorious vision, to inspire and fortify her
against the possible decay or downfall of her power. Happy are they
who in our day may behold it, if they shall contemplate it with the
sentiments which it ought to inspire!
The New England Colonies differ quite as widely from the Asiatic
establishments of the modern European nations, as from the models of the
ancient states. The sole object of those establishments was originally
trade; although we have seen, in one of them, the anomaly of a mere
trading company attaining a political character, disbursing revenues,
and maintaining armies and fortresses, until it has extended its control
over seventy millions of people. Differing from these, and still more
from the New England and North American Colonies, are the European
settlements in the West India Islands. It is not strange, that, when
men's minds were turned to the settlement of America, different objects
should be proposed by those who emigrated to the different regions of so
vast a country. Climate, soil, and condition were not all equally
favorable to all pursuits. In the West Indies, the purpose of those who
went thither was to engage in that species of agriculture, suited to the
soil and climate, which seems to bear more resemblance to commerce, than
to the hard and plain tillage of New England. The great staples of these
countries, being partly an agricultural and partly a manufactured
product, and not being of the necessaries of life, become the object of
calculation, with respect to a profitable investment of capital, like
any other enterprise of trade or manufacture. The more especially, as,
requiring, by necessity or habit, slave labor for their production, the
capital necessary to carry on the work of this production is very
considerable. The West Indies are resorted to, therefore, rather for the
investment of capital, than for the purpose of sustaining life by
personal labor. Such as possess a considerable amount of capital, or
such as choose to adventure in commercial speculations without capital,
can alone be fitted to be emigrants to the islands. The agriculture of
these regions, as before observed, is a sort of commerce; and it is a
species of employment in which labor seems to form as inconsiderable
ingredient in the productive causes, since the portion of white labor is
exceedingly small, and slave labor is rather more like profit on stock
or capital, than _labor_ properly so called. The individual who
undertakes an establishment of this kind takes into the account the cost
of the necessary number of slaves, in the same manner as he calculates
the cost of the land. The uncertainty, too, of this species of
employment, affords another ground of resemblance to commerce. Although
gainful on the whole, and in a series of years, it is often very
disastrous for a single year, and, as the capital is not readily
invested in other pursuits, bad crops or bad markets not only affect the
profits, but the capital itself. Hence the sudden depressions which take
place in the value of such estates.
But the great and leading observation, relative to these establishments,
remains to be made. It is, that the owners of the soil and of the
capital seldom consider themselves _at home_ in the colony. A very great
portion of the soil itself is usually owned in the mother country; a
still greater is mortgaged for capital obtained there; and, in general,
those who are to derive an interest from the products look to the parent
country as the place for enjoyment of their wealth. The population is
therefore constantly fluctuating. Nobody comes but to return. A constant
succession of owners, agents, and factors takes place. Whatsoever the
soil, forced by the unmitigated toil of slavery, can yield, is sent home
to defray rents, and interest, and agencies, or to give the means of
living in a better society. In such a state, it is evident that no
spirit of permanent improvement is likely to spring up. Profits will not
be invested with a distant view of benefiting posterity. Roads and
canals will hardly be built; schools will not be founded; colleges will
not be endowed. There will be few fixtures in society; no principles of
utility or of elegance, planted now, with the hope of being developed
and expanded hereafter. Profit, immediate profit, must be the principal
active spring in the social system. There may be many particular
exceptions to these general remarks, but the outline of the whole is
such as is here drawn.
Another most important consequence of such a state of things is, that no
idea of independence of the parent country is likely to arise; unless,
indeed, it should spring up in a form that would threaten universal
desolation. The inhabitants have no strong attachment to the place which
they inhabit. The hope of a great portion of them is to leave it; and
their great desire, to leave it soon. However useful they may be to the
parent state, how much soever they may add to the conveniences and
luxuries of life, these colonies are not favored spots for the expansion
of the human mind, for the progress of permanent improvement, or for
sowing the seeds of future independent empire.
Different, indeed, most widely different, from all these instances of
emigration and plantation, were the condition, the purposes, and the
prospects of our fathers, when they established their infant colony upon
this spot. They came hither to a land from which they were never to
return. Hither they had brought, and here they were to fix, their hopes,
their attachments, and their objects in life. Some natural tears they
shed, as they left the pleasant abodes of their fathers, and some
emotions they suppressed, when the white cliffs of their native country,
now seen for the last time, grew dim to their sight. They were acting,
however, upon a resolution not to be daunted. With whatever stifled
regrets, with whatever occasional hesitation, with whatever appalling
apprehensions, which might sometimes arise with force to shake the
firmest purpose, they had yet committed themselves to Heaven and the
elements; and a thousand leagues of water soon interposed to separate
them for ever from the region which gave them birth. A new existence
awaited them here; and when they saw these shores, rough, cold,
barbarous, and barren, as then they were, they beheld their country.
That mixed and strong feeling, which we call love of country, and which
is, in general, never extinguished in the heart of man, grasped and
embraced its proper object here. Whatever constitutes _country_, except
the earth and the sun, all the moral causes of affection and attachment
which operate upon the heart, they had brought with them to their new
abode. Here were now their families and friends, their homes, and their
property. Before they reached the shore, they had established the
elements of a social system,[40] and at a much earlier period had
settled their forms of religions worship. At the moment of their
landing, therefore, they possessed institutions of government, and
institutions of religion: and friends and families, and social and
religious institutions, framed by consent, founded on choice and
preference, how nearly do these fill up our whole idea of country! The
morning that beamed on the first night of their repose saw the Pilgrims
already _at home_ in their country. There were political institutions,
and civil liberty, and religious worship. Poetry has fancied nothing, in
the wanderings of heroes, so distinct and characteristic. Here was man,
indeed, unprotected, and unprovided for, on the shore of a rude and
fearful wilderness; but it was politic, intelligent, and educated man.
Every thing was civilized but the physical world. Institutions,
containing in substance all that ages had done for human government,
were organized in a forest Cultivated mind was to act on uncultivated
nature; and, more than all, a government and a country were to commence,
with the very first foundations laid under the divine light of the
Christian religion. Happy auspices of a happy futurity! Who would wish
that his country's existence had otherwise begun? Who would desire the
power of going back to the ages of fable? Who would wish for an origin
obscured in the darkness of antiquity? Who would wish for other
emblazoning of his country's heraldry, or other ornaments of her
genealogy, than to be able to say, that her first existence was with
intelligence, her first breath the inspiration of liberty, her first
principle the truth of divine religion?
Local attachments and sympathies would ere long spring up in the breasts
of our ancestors, endearing to them the place of their refuge. Whatever
natural objects are associated with interesting scenes and high efforts
obtain a hold on human feeling, and demand from the heart a sort of
recognition and regard. This Rock soon became hallowed in the esteem of
the Pilgrims,[41] and these hills grateful to their sight. Neither they
nor their children were again to till the soil of England, nor again to
traverse the seas which surround her.[42] But here was a new sea, now
open to their enterprise, and a new soil, which had not failed to
respond gratefully to their laborious industry, and which was already
assuming a robe of verdure. Hardly had they provided shelter for the
living, ere they were summoned to erect sepulchres for the dead. The
ground had become sacred, by inclosing the remains of some of their
companions and connections. A parent, a child, a husband, or a wife, had
gone the way of all flesh, and mingled with the dust of New England. We
naturally look with strong emotions to the spot, though it be a
wilderness, where the ashes of those we have loved repose. Where the
heart has laid down what it loved most, there it is desirous of laying
itself down. No sculptured marble, no enduring monument, no honorable
inscription, no ever-burning taper that would drive away the darkness of
the tomb, can soften our sense of the reality of death, and hallow to
our feelings the ground which is to cover us, like the consciousness
that we shall sleep, dust to dust, with the objects of our affections.
In a short time other causes sprung up to bind the Pilgrims with new
cords to their chosen land. Children were born, and the hopes of future
generations arose, in the spot of their new habitation. The second
generation found this the land of their nativity, and saw that they were
bound to its fortunes. They beheld their fathers' graves around them,
and while they read the memorials of their toils and labors, they
rejoiced in the inheritance which they found bequeathed to them.
Under the influence of these causes, it was to be expected, that an
interest and a feeling should arise here, entirely different from the
interest and feeling of mere Englishmen; and all the subsequent history
of the Colonies proves this to have actually and gradually taken place.
With a general acknowledgment of the supremacy of the British crown,
there was, from the first a repugnance to an entire submission to the
control of British legislation. The Colonies stood upon their charters,
which, as they contended, exempted them from the ordinary power of the
British Parliament, and authorized them to conduct their own concerns by
their own counsels. They utterly resisted the notion that they were to
be ruled by the mere authority of the government at home, and would not
endure even that their own charter governments should be established on
the other side of the Atlantic. It was not a controlling or protecting
board in England, but a government of their own, and existing
immediately within their limits, which could satisfy their wishes. It
was easy to foresee, what we know also to have happened, that the first
great cause of collision and jealousy would be, under the notion of
political economy then and still prevalent in Europe, an attempt on the
part of the mother country to monopolize the trade of the Colonies.
Whoever has looked deeply into the causes which produced our Revolution
has found, if I mistake not, the original principle far back in this
claim, on the part of England, to monopolize our trade, and a continued
effort on the part of the Colonies to resist or evade that monopoly; if,
indeed, it be not still more just and philosophical to go farther back,
and to consider it decided, that an independent government must arise
here, the moment it was ascertained that an English colony, such as
landed in this place, could sustain itself against the dangers which
surrounded it, and, with other similar establishments, overspread the
land with an English population. Accidental causes retarded at times,
and at times accelerated, the progress of the controversy. The Colonies
wanted strength, and time gave it to them. They required measures of
strong and palpable injustice, on the part of the mother country, to
justify resistance; the early part of the late king's reign furnished
them. They needed spirits of high order, of great daring, of long
foresight, and of commanding power, to seize the favoring occasion to
strike a blow, which should sever, for all time, the tic of colonial
dependence; and these spirits were found, in all the extent which that
or any crisis could demand, in Otis, Adams, Hancock, and the other
immediate authors of our independence.
Still, it is true that, for a century, causes had been in operation
tending to prepare things for this great result. In the year 1660 the
English Act of Navigation was passed; the first and grand object of
which seems to have been, to secure to England the whole trade with her
plantations.[43] It was provided by that act, that none but English
ships should transport American produce over the ocean, and that the
principal articles of that produce should be allowed to be sold only in
the markets of the mother country. Three years afterwards another law
was passed, which enacted, that such commodities as the Colonies might
wish to purchase should be bought only in the markets of the mother
country. Severe rules were prescribed to enforce the provisions of these
laws, and heavy penalties imposed on all who should violate them. In the
subsequent years of the same reign, other statutes were enacted to
reenforce these statutes, and other rules prescribed to secure a
compliance with these rules. In this manner was the trade to and from
the Colonies restricted, almost to the exclusive advantage of the parent
country. But laws, which rendered the interest of a whole people
subordinate to that of another people, were not likely to execute
themselves; nor was it easy to find many on the spot, who could be
depended upon for carrying them into execution. In fact, these laws were
more or less evaded or resisted, in all the Colonies. To enforce them
was the constant endeavor of the government at home; to prevent or elude
their operation, the perpetual object here. "The laws of navigation,"
says a living British writer, "were nowhere so openly disobeyed and
contemned as in New England." "The people of Massachusetts Bay," he
adds, "were from the first disposed to act as if independent of the
mother country, and having a governor and magistrates of their own
choice, it was difficult to enforce any regulation which came from the
English Parliament, adverse to their interests." To provide more
effectually for the execution of these laws, we know that courts of
admiralty were afterwards established by the crown, with power to try
revenue causes, as questions of admiralty, upon the construction given
by the crown lawyers to an act of Parliament; a great departure from the
ordinary principles of English jurisprudence, but which has been
maintained, nevertheless, by the force of habit and precedent, and is
adopted in our own existing systems of government.
"There lie," says another English writer, whose connection with the
Board of Trade has enabled him to ascertain many facts connected with
Colonial history, "There lie among the documents in the board of trade
and state-paper office, the most satisfactory proofs, from the epoch of
the English Revolution in 1688, throughout every reign, and during every
administration, of the settled purpose of the Colonies to acquire direct
independence and positive sovereignty." Perhaps this may be stated
somewhat too strongly; but it cannot be denied, that, from the very
nature of the establishments here, and from the general character of the
measures respecting their concerns early adopted and steadily pursued by
the English government, a division of the empire was the natural and
necessary result to which every thing tended.[44]
I have dwelt on this topic, because it seems to me, that the peculiar
original character of the New England Colonies, and certain causes
coeval with their existence, have had a strong and decided influence on
all their subsequent history, and especially on the great event of the
Revolution. Whoever would write our history, and would understand and
explain early transactions, should comprehend the nature and force of
the feeling which I have endeavored to describe. As a son, leaving the
house of his father for his own, finds, by the order of nature, and the
very law of his being, nearer and dearer objects around which his
affections circle, while his attachment to the parental roof becomes
moderated, by degrees, to a composed regard and an affectionate
remembrance; so our ancestors, leaving their native land, not without
some violence to the feelings of nature and affection, yet, in time,
found here a new circle of engagements, interests, and affections; a
feeling, which more and more encroached upon the old, till an undivided
sentiment, _that this was their country_, occupied the heart; and
patriotism, shutting out from its embraces the parent realm, became
_local_ to America.
* * * * *
Some retrospect of the century which has now elapsed is among the
duties of the occasion. It must, however, necessarily be imperfect, to
be compressed within the limits of a single discourse. I shall content
myself; therefore, with taking notice of a few of the leading and most
important occurrences which have distinguished the period.
When the first century closed, the progress of the country appeared to
have been considerable; notwithstanding that, in comparison with its
subsequent advancement, it now seems otherwise. A broad and lasting
foundation had been laid; excellent institutions had been established;
many of the prejudices of former times had been removed; a more liberal
and catholic spirit on subjects of religious concern had begun to extend
itself; and many things conspired to give promise of increasing future
prosperity. Great men had arisen in public life, and the liberal
professions. The Mathers, father and son, were then sinking low in the
western horizon; Leverett, the learned, the accomplished, the excellent
Leverett, was about to withdraw his brilliant and useful light. In
Pemberton great hopes had been suddenly extinguished, but Prince and
Colman were in our sky; and along the east had began to flash the
crepuscular light of a great luminary which was about to appear, and
which was to stamp the age with his own name, as the age of Franklin.
The bloody Indian wars, which harassed the people for a part of the
first century; the restrictions on the trade of the Colonies, added to
the discouragements inherently belonging to all forms of colonial
government; the distance from Europe, and the small hope of immediate
profit to adventurers, are among the causes which had contributed to
retard the progress of population. Perhaps it may be added, also, that
during the period of the civil wars in England, and the reign of
Cromwell, many persons, whose religious opinions and religious temper
might, under other circumstances, have induced them to join the New
England colonists, found reasons to remain in England; either on account
of active occupation in the scenes which were passing, or of an
anticipation of the enjoyment, in their own country, of a form of
government, civil and religious, accommodated to their views and
principles. The violent measures, too, pursued against the Colonies in
the reign of Charles the Second, the mockery of a trial, and the
forfeiture of the charters, were serious evils. And during the open
violences of the short reign of James the Second, and the tyranny of
Andros, as the venerable historian of Connecticut observes, "All the
motives to great actions, to industry, economy, enterprise, wealth, and
population, were in a manner annihilated. A general inactivity and
languishment pervaded the public body. Liberty, property, and every
thing which ought to be dear to men, every day grew more and more
insecure."
With the Revolution in England, a better prospect had opened on this
country, as well as on that. The joy had been as great at that event,
and far more universal, in New than in Old England. A new charter had
been granted to Massachusetts, which, although it did not confirm to her
inhabitants all their former privileges, yet relieved them from great
evils and embarrassments, and promised future security. More than all,
perhaps, the Revolution in England had done good to the general cause of
liberty and justice. A blow had been struck in favor of the rights and
liberties, not of England alone, but of descendants and kinsmen of
England all over the world. Great political truths had been established.
The champions of liberty had been successful in a fearful and perilous
conflict. Somers, and Cavendish, and Jekyl, and Howard, had triumphed in
one of the most noble causes ever undertaken by men. A revolution had
been made upon principle. A monarch had been dethroned for violating the
original compact between king and people. The rights of the people to
partake in the government, and to limit the monarch by fundamental rules
of government, had been maintained; and however unjust the government of
England might afterwards be towards other governments or towards her
colonies, she had ceased to be governed herself by the arbitrary maxims
of the Stuarts.
New England had submitted to the violence of James the Second not longer
than Old England. Not only was it reserved to Massachusetts, that on her
soil should be acted the first scene of that great revolutionary drama,
which was to take place near a century afterwards, but the English
Revolution itself, as far as the Colonies were concerned, commenced in
Boston. The seizure and imprisonment of Andros, in April, 1689, were
acts of direct and forcible resistance to the authority of James the
Second. The pulse of liberty beat as high in the extremities as at the
heart. The vigorous feeling of the Colony burst out before it was known
how the parent country would finally conduct herself. The king's
representative, Sir Edmund Andros, was a prisoner in the castle at
Boston, before it was or could be known that the king himself had ceased
to exercise his full dominion on the English throne.
Before it was known here whether the invasion of the Prince of Orange
would or could prove successful, as soon as it was known that it had
been undertaken, the people of Massachusetts, at the imminent hazard of
their lives and fortunes, had accomplished the Revolution as far as
respected themselves. It is probable that, reasoning on general
principles and the known attachment of the English people to their
constitution and liberties, and their deep and fixed dislike of the
king's religion and politics, the people of New England expected a
catastrophe fatal to the power of the reigning prince. Yet it was
neither certain enough, nor near enough, to come to their aid against
the authority of the crown, in that crisis which had arrived, and in
which they trusted to put themselves, relying on God and their own
courage. There were spirits in Massachusetts congenial with the spirits
of the distinguished friends of the Revolution in England. There were
those who were fit to associate with the boldest asserters of civil
liberty; and Mather himself, then in England, was not unworthy to be
ranked with those sons of the Church, whose firmness and spirit in
resisting kingly encroachments in matters of religion, entitled them to
the gratitude of their own and succeeding ages.
The second century opened upon New England under circumstances which
evinced that much had already been accomplished, and that still better
prospects and brighter hopes were before her. She had laid, deep and
strong, the foundations of her society. Her religious principles were
firm, and her moral habits exemplary. Her public schools had began to
diffuse widely the elements of knowledge; and the College, under the
excellent and acceptable administration of Leverett, had been raised to
a high degree of credit and usefulness.
The commercial character of the country, notwithstanding all
discouragements, had begun to display itself, and _five hundred
vessels_, then belonging to Massachusetts, placed her, in relation to
commerce, thus early at the head of the Colonies. An author who wrote
very near the close of the first century says:--"New England is almost
deserving that _noble name_, so mightily hath it increased; and from a
small settlement at first, is now become a _very populous_ and
_flourishing_ government. The _capital city_, Boston, is a place of
_great wealth and trade_; and by much the largest of any in the English
empire of America; and not exceeded but by few cities, perhaps two or
three, in all the American world."
But if our ancestors at the close of the first century could look back
with joy, and even admiration, at the progress of the country, what
emotions must we not feel, when, from the point on which we stand, we
also look back and run along the events of the century which has now
closed! The country which then, as we have seen, was thought deserving
of a "noble name,"--which then had "mightily increased," and become
"very populous,"--what was it, in comparison with what our eyes behold
it? At that period, a very great proportion of its inhabitants lived in
the eastern section of Massachusetts proper, and in Plymouth Colony. In
Connecticut, there were towns along the coast, some of them respectable,
but in the interior all was a wilderness beyond Hartford. On Connecticut
River, settlements had proceeded as far up as Deerfield, and Fort Dummer
had been built near where is now the south line of New Hampshire. In New
Hampshire no settlement was then begun thirty miles from the mouth of
Piscataqua River, and in what is now Maine, the inhabitants were
confined to the coast. The aggregate of the whole population of New
England did not exceed one hundred and sixty thousand. Its present
amount (1820) is probably one million seven hundred thousand. Instead of
being confined to its former limits, her population has rolled backward,
and filled up the spaces included within her actual local boundaries.
Not this only, but it has overflowed those boundaries, and the waves of
emigration have pressed farther and farther toward the West. The
Alleghany has not checked it; the banks of the Ohio have been covered
with it. New England farms, houses, villages, and churches spread over
and adorn the immense extent from the Ohio to Lake Erie, and stretch
along from the Alleghany onwards, beyond the Miamis, and toward the
Falls of St. Anthony. Two thousand miles westward from the rock where
their fathers landed, may now be found the sons of the Pilgrims,
cultivating smiling fields, rearing towns and villages, and cherishing,
we trust, the patrimonial blessings of wise institutions, of liberty,
and religion. The world has seen nothing like this. Regions large enough
to be empires, and which, half a century ago, were known only as remote
and unexplored wildernesses, are now teeming with population, and
prosperous in all the great concerns of life; in good governments, the
means of subsistence, and social happiness. It may be safely asserted,
that there are now more than a million of people, descendants of New
England ancestry, living, free and happy, in regions which scarce sixty
years ago were tracts of unpenetrated forest. Nor do rivers, or
mountains, or seas resist the progress of industry and enterprise. Ere
long, the sons of the Pilgrims will be on the shores of the Pacific.[45]
The imagination hardly keeps pace with the progress of population,
improvement, and civilization.
It is now five-and-forty years since the growth and rising glory of
America were portrayed in the English Parliament, with inimitable
beauty, by the most consummate orator of modern times. Going back
somewhat more than half a century, and describing our progress as
foreseen from that point by his amiable friend Lord Bathurst, then
living, he spoke of the wonderful progress which America had made during
the period of a single human life. There is no American heart, I
imagine, that does not glow, both with conscious, patriotic pride, and
admiration for one of the happiest efforts of eloquence, so often as the
vision of "that little speck, scarce visible in the mass of national
interest, a small seminal principle, rather than a formed body," and the
progress of its astonishing development and growth, are recalled to the
recollection. But a stronger feeling might be produced, if we were able
to take up this prophetic description where he left it, and, placing
ourselves at the point of time in which he was speaking, to set forth
with equal felicity the subsequent progress of the country. There is yet
among the living a most distinguished and venerable name, a descendant
of the Pilgrims; one who has been attended through life by a great and
fortunate genius; a man illustrious by his own great merits, and favored
of Heaven in the long continuation of his years.[46] The time when the
English orator was thus speaking of America preceded but by a few days
the actual opening of the revolutionary drama at Lexington. He to whom I
have alluded, then at the age of forty, was among the most zealous and
able defenders of the violated rights of his country. He seemed already
to have filled a full measure of public service, and attained an
honorable fame. The moment was full of difficulty and danger, and big
with events of immeasurable importance. The country was on the very
brink of a civil war, of which no man could foretell the duration or the
result. Something more than a courageous hope, or characteristic ardor,
would have been necessary to impress the glorious prospect on his
belief, if, at that moment, before the sound of the first shock of
actual war had reached his ears, some attendant spirit had opened to him
the vision of the future;--if it had said to him, "The blow is struck,
and America is severed from England for ever!"--if it had informed him,
that he himself, during the next annual revolution of the sun, should
put his own hand to the great instrument of independence, and write his
name where all nations should behold it and all time should not efface
it; that ere long he himself should maintain the interests and represent
the sovereignty of his new-born country in the proudest courts of
Europe; that he should one day exercise her supreme magistracy; that he
should yet live to behold ten millions of fellow-citizens paying him the
homage of their deepest gratitude and kindest affections; that he should
see distinguished talent and high public trust resting where his name
rested; that he should even see with his own unclouded eyes the close of
the second century of New England, who had begun life almost with its
commencement, and lived through nearly half the whole history of his
country; and that on the morning of this auspicious day he should be
found in the political councils of his native State, revising, by the
light of experience, that system of government which forty years before
he had assisted to frame and establish; and, great and happy as he
should then behold his country, there should be nothing in prospect to
cloud the scene, nothing to check the ardor of that confident and
patriotic hope which should glow in his bosom to the end of his long
protracted and happy life.
It would far exceed the limits of this discourse even to mention the
principal events in the civil and political history of New England
during the century; the more so, as for the last half of the period that
history has, most happily, been closely interwoven with the general
history of the United States. New England bore an honorable part in the
wars which took place between England and France. The capture of
Louisburg gave her a character for military achievement; and in the war
which terminated with the peace of 1763, her exertions on the frontiers
were of most essential service, as well to the mother country as to all
the Colonies.
In New England the war of the Revolution commenced. I address those who
remember the memorable 19th of April, 1775; who shortly after saw the
burning spires of Charlestown; who beheld the deeds of Prescott, and
heard the voice of Putnam amidst the storm of war, and saw the generous
Warren fall, the first distinguished victim in the cause of liberty. It
would be superfluous to say, that no portion of the country did more
than the States of New England to bring the Revolutionary struggle to a
successful issue. It is scarcely less to her credit, that she saw early
the necessity of a closer union of the States, and gave an efficient and
indispensable aid to the establishment and organization of the federal
government.
Perhaps we might safely say, that a new spirit and a new excitement
began to exist here about the middle of the last century. To whatever
causes it may be imputed, there seems then to have commenced a more
rapid improvement. The Colonies had attracted more of the attention of
the mother country, and some renown in arms had been acquired. Lord
Chatham was the first English minister who attached high importance to
these possessions of the crown, and who foresaw any thing of their
future growth and extension. His opinion was, that the great rival of
England was chiefly to be feared as a maritime and commercial power, and
to drive her out of North America and deprive her of her West Indian
possessions was a leading object in his policy. He dwelt often on the
fisheries, as nurseries for British seamen, and the colonial trade, as
furnishing them employment. The war, conducted by him with so much
vigor, terminated in a peace, by which Canada was ceded to England. The
effect of this was immediately visible in the New England Colonies; for,
the fear of Indian hostilities on the frontiers being now happily
removed, settlements went on with an activity before that time
altogether unprecedented, and public affairs wore a new and encouraging
aspect. Shortly after this fortunate termination of the French war, the
interesting topics connected with the taxation of America by the British
Parliament began to be discussed, and the attention and all the
faculties of the people drawn towards them. There is perhaps no portion
of our history more full of interest than the period from 1760 to the
actual commencement of the war. The progress of opinion in this period,
though less known, is not less important than the progress of arms
afterwards. Nothing deserves more consideration than those events and
discussions which affected the public sentiment and settled the
revolution in men's minds, before hostilities openly broke out.
Internal improvement followed the establishment and prosperous
commencement of the present government. More has been done for roads,
canals, and other public works, within the last thirty years, than in
all our former history. In the first of these particulars, few countries
excel the New England States. The astonishing increase of their
navigation and trade is known to every one, and now belongs to the
history of our national wealth.
We may flatter ourselves, too, that literature and taste have not been
stationary, and that some advancement has been made in the elegant, as
well as in the useful arts.
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