Chapter X: The Politics of Nullification

I

Callers at the Hermitage about the first of October were surprised to find Jackson’s thoughts remote from the election. Instead of a jubilant politician, they found an old man frothing with fury over the news from South Carolina that the Nullifiers had won a majority of seats in the Legislature and were arranging for an early summoning of a Nullification Convention. His indignation was so intense that his friends were shocked at the ferocity of his mood. The crisis had not crept upon him unaware. With keen, far-seeing eyes he had watched its advance, hoping that something would intervene to divert his native State from its mad course, but determined, if the issue came, to crush it with an iron hand. His hatred of Calhoun had, by this time, become an obsession, and when he threatened to “hang every leader ... of that infatuated people, sir, by martial law, irrespective of his name, or political or social position,” there was no doubt as to whom he referred.[534] Taking no further interest in the election, he put the campaign behind him and hastened to the capital. Blair, the politician always, hurried to the White House with some papers relating to the election. After a hasty and perfunctory glance, Jackson returned them to the editor, with a “Thank you, sir,” and launched into a denunciation of the Nullifiers. The date set for the Nullification Convention had just reached him. Even Blair, accustomed to his fits of temper, was startled. He was in the presence of a Jackson he had never seen or known before. “The lines in his face were hard drawn, his tones were full of wrath and resentment.... Any one would have thought he was planning another great battle.”[535] Even the announcement of victory at the polls scarcely interested him. Blair and Kendall called with a table showing the electoral vote. Glancing at it indifferently for a moment, his face brightened. “The best thing about this, gentlemen, is that it strengthens my hands in this trouble.” Such was the spirit with which Andrew Jackson faced the gravest crisis the Nation had yet known.

Beginning with an intensely nationalistic spirit,[536] South Carolina commenced to veer about with the tariff of 1816, and every succeeding tariff measure had been a provocation. Two years before Jackson’s inauguration, the “Brutus” articles on the “Usurpations of the Federal Government,” eloquent, fiery, defiant of the “Monster of the North,” had created a profound impression, commanding the adherence of McDuffie, the Mirabeau of the disaffected, Hamilton, Preston, and Chancellor William Harper, described by Houston as “scarcely inferior to Calhoun as an exponent of meta-physical doctrines.”[537] The principles of “Brutus” only awaited the authoritative sanction of Calhoun to place upon them the stamp of the State’s approval.

The tariff of 1828 was the last straw, and sedition was openly talked by the greater part of the South Carolina congressional delegation at the home of Senator Hayne. One week later, Calhoun, at his home at Fort Hill, finished his “Exposition,” enunciating the principles of Nullification, which the committee of seven of the State Legislature presented as its own. During the summer, politicians made numerous pilgrimages to Fort Hill for conferences, but not the scratch of a pen remains to indicate the character of the discussions. Calhoun was still “under cover.” He was about to enter upon his second term in the Vice-Presidency, and his friends were looking forward to the Presidency in 1832. The world was to wait awhile for the openly avowed views of the Master.

With the publication of the “Exposition,” the battle royal began, Cavalier against Cavalier, the Union cause brilliantly led by the elegant Joel R. Poinsett. In the early stages of the fight the Nullifiers did not scruple to represent Jackson as friendly to their cause. “I had supposed,” wrote Jackson, in reply to a letter from Poinsett, “that every one acquainted with me knew that I was opposed to the Nullifying doctrine, and my toast at the Jefferson dinner was sufficient evidence of that fact.”[538] Having no reason, after that, to doubt Jackson’s position, the Unionists invited Jackson to attend one of their public dinners, and he sent a letter settling beyond all possibility of dispute his position on Nullification. The Nullifiers, dining at a rival banquet, and learning of the reading of the Jackson letter, reminded the writer that “old Waxhaw still stands where Jackson left it, and the old stock of ’76 has not run out.” After that the drama hurried to a climax. The tariff of 1832 was but oil on the flames. The fight was carried to the polls and Nullification won by a majority of 6000 out of 40,000 votes cast.

The most portentous feature of the campaign was the appearance in August of Calhoun’s famous letter to Hamilton, decisively accepting as his own, and urging upon his people, the doctrine of Nullification. It was intended and timed to serve the purposes of the campaign. Unhappily Calhoun must ever remain more or less a steel engraving. His private life was carefully screened. Jefferson prowling among the brickmasons at the University, Jackson with his clay pipe on the veranda of the Hermitage, Webster among his cattle at Marshfield, Clay meditating speeches under the trees at Ashland, are possible of contact by future generations, but Calhoun at Fort Hill seems hopelessly remote and cannot be visualized. He stalks upon the stage, a dramatic and impressive figure, and plays his public part, but no one is admitted to the dressing-room. Thus all we know of the occasion of the preparation of the famous letter, which became the Magna Carta of the Nullifiers, is told in the letter itself.[539] The events of that summer and early autumn were intimately known to Jackson as he walked the grounds of the Hermitage, and lingered mournfully about the tomb of his beloved Rachel. In the spring of 1830 the brilliant Poinsett, fresh from his mission to Mexico, had been shocked, on his return to the drawing-rooms of Charleston, to find sedition poured with the tea, and had hurried to Washington to be closeted with Jackson at the White House. Before he emerged, he had been designated by the President as his personal ambassador in South Carolina,[540] and after calling upon Adams, in retirement, to tell him of his hopes and fears,[541] he made all haste home to combat, inch by inch, the growing madness, and prepared, if need be, to die with a musket in his hands. During the intervening three years his confidential reports had kept Jackson in close touch with all the movements of the enemy, and the grim old warrior, reëntering the White House on his return from Tennessee, entertained no illusions as to what he faced.

Three days after Jackson reached Washington, the South Carolina Legislature fixed November 3d as the date for the Nullification Convention. Silently, but sternly, soldier-wise, the President was clearing the decks for action. The day he left the Hermitage the Collector of Customs in Charleston received instructions as to his course; on reaching the capital, the commander in charge of troops there was warned of possible attempts to seize the forts; to his apprehensive friends he was sending reassuring messages. “I am well advised as to the views and proceedings of the leading Nullifiers,” he wrote Hamilton on November 2d. “We are wide awake here. THE UNION WILL BE PRESERVED; REST ASSURED OF THAT.”[542] Five days later, Cass was ordering additional troops to Fort Moultrie, and Jackson was dispatching a secret emissary to Charleston, with instructions to communicate with Poinsett, and to report upon the conditions of the forts and the lengths to which the Nullifiers might go.[543] The day preceding the meeting of the Nullification Convention, Cass ordered General Scott to Charleston, with minute instructions.[544] With Scott hurrying to South Carolina, the convention met, the Nullification Ordinance was passed, and February 1st was set as the day for it to go into operation. Three days after the convention adjourned, the Legislature met and passed laws to put the ordinance into effect. The Unionist Convention immediately met, denounced Nullification, and began to organize their forces for a possible armed conflict.

Meanwhile Scott had performed his mission with a discretion and sound judgment which called forth the commendation of Jackson.[545] Five days before Congress met, five thousand stand of muskets with equipment had been ordered to Castle Pinckney, and a sloop of war with smaller vessels were on their way to Charleston Harbor.[546] “The Union must be preserved, and its laws duly executed, but BY PROPER MEANS,” wrote the President to Poinsett.

Thus, in this real crisis, the “law,” the “Constitution,” and “public opinion” were uppermost in the mind of the man generally described as reckless in the use of power. Long after the event, but while the contest was still on, he wrote to Poinsett of his regret at the failure of the Unionist Convention to memorialize Congress “to extend to you the guarantees of the Constitution, of a republican form of government, stating the actual despotism which now controls the State.” This, he explained, “would have placed your situation before the whole nation, and filled the heart of every true lover of his country and its liberties with indignation.”[547] While at work on his Proclamation, he wrote Hamilton in New York, urging that public opinion assert itself in an unmistakable manner. “The crisis must be, and AS FAR AS MY CONSTITUTIONAL AND LEGAL POWERS AUTHORIZE, will be, met with energy and firmness. HENCE THE PROPRIETY OF THE PUBLIC VOICE BEING HEARD;--AND IT OUGHT NOW TO BE SPOKEN IN A VOICE OF THUNDER.”[548] Thus, when the gavel fell on the opening of the Congress, Jackson had the situation well in hand, had perfected his plans for vigorous action within the limits of the Constitution and the laws, but still hoped, through the pressure of public opinion and the returning good sense of the Carolinians, it would be unnecessary to resort to force.

II

On the opening day of the Congress the great Carolinian was not in his Senate seat, to which he had been immediately elected on his resignation from the Vice-Presidency, but public interest centered in it, nevertheless. The Jackson Message was awaited with keen anxiety. In its recommendation of a reduction of the tariff was easily recognized a conciliatory gesture toward the South Carolinians. Even his discussion of the crisis was temperate and unprovocative. No one listening to the Message could have had the slightest notion of what was taking place at that very hour in Jackson’s workroom in the White House.

Even before the Congress met, Edward Livingston was at work preparing the Proclamation which was to thrill the country like a bugle blast, perpetuate the memory of Jackson, and reflect glory on himself. It was no mere accident which led to the selection of the Secretary of State for this task. His views on the integrity and perpetuity of the Union were intimately known to his chief; and it was a duty upon which Livingston could enter with all his heart. But the first draft of the Proclamation was written by Jackson in a frenzy of composition, so hurriedly that he scattered the pages over the table to let them dry. The general tenor of the document was therefore his. If the wording was Livingston’s, the document breathed the soul of Andrew Jackson. During the period of its preparation, Jackson was in constant touch. He was thinking of nothing else. Thus, on the day his Message was read to Congress, the iron man was meditating his appeal to public opinion. It was almost midnight. In his room in the southeast corner of the mansion, he sat before the fireplace smoking his pipe--thinking. Bitter as he was against Calhoun and the leaders whom he felt had seduced the people of his native State, he felt an affection for the confused masses who had been deluded; and, while prepared, if need be, to strike with the military arm of the Government, he passionately hoped that this would not become necessary. Going over to the table on which always stood the picture of his Rachel, and the Bible to which she had been devoted, he wrote a conclusion to the Proclamation in the nature of a touching appeal to the patriotic memories of the South Carolinians. Then he wrote to Livingston: “I submit the above as the conclusion of the Proclamation for your amendment and revision. Let it receive your best flight of eloquence, to strike to the heart, and speak to the feelings of my deluded countrymen of South Carolina.”

Three days later, the night again found Jackson obsessed with the preparation of the Proclamation. Livingston, in his writing, was sending it as he proceeded to the White House, where Major Donelson, the private secretary, was engaged in copying it for the printer. At four o’clock in the afternoon the Secretary of State had sent a number of sheets, and Donelson had finished copying and was waiting for more. Jackson was impatient of the delay. The Message having gone forth, he thought it important that it should be followed immediately by the Proclamation for the effect on South Carolina. Again he wrote to Livingston explaining the reason for his anxiety. The Secretary would therefore please send over at once, “sealed, by the bearer,” such sheets as were completed, and the harassed Livingston complied. Under these conditions of pressure the immortal document was written.[549]

On the day Jackson gave this Proclamation to the Nation he made his last appeal. A letter written to Poinsett that day discloses a determination to move sternly and unhesitatingly to what he conceived to be his solemn duty. This letter breathed the spirit of the battle-field. The act of the Nullifiers was sheer treason. He had been assured that he would be sustained by Congress. “I will meet it [treason] at the threshold, and have the leaders arrested and arraigned for treason,” he wrote. He was only waiting for the Acts of the Legislature “to make a communication to Congress, ask the means necessary to carry my Proclamation into complete effect, and by an exemplary punishment of those leaders for treason so unprovoked, put down this rebellion, and strengthen our Government both at home and abroad.” The Unionists of South Carolina need not fear. In forty days he could have 50,000 men in the State, in forty more another 50,000. “How impotent,” he wrote, “the threats of resistance with only a population of 250,000 whites, and nearly double that in blacks, with our ships in the port to aid in the execution of the laws!”[550]

Thus hoping that necessity would not compel him to send armed forces, determined to meet the issue, however, as it might present itself, careful to observe all the constitutional and legal limitations of his power, enraged to fury against the leaders and eager to lay his hands on Calhoun, he gave the country the Proclamation which instantly wiped out party lines with most, and rallied the patriotic forces of the Union to his support.

III

At the time of the writing of the Proclamation, Andrew Jackson was sixty-six, and Edward Livingston sixty-nine years old, but it breathes the fire, the passion, the enthusiasm, and the eloquence of impetuous youth. As an oration, it was to be treasured as a masterpiece; as a public document, it has taken its place alongside the Emancipation Proclamation as one of the greatest pronouncements of American history. Its publication appealed to the Unionists of the country like a charge on the battle-field. To no one did it give keener pleasure than to Webster, who read it in New Jersey on his way to the capital. In Philadelphia he met Clay, and a friend of the latter explained Clay’s plan of concessions to the Nullifiers through a new tariff of gradual reductions. The martial call of Jackson aroused the fighting blood within Webster, and Clay’s game of politics repelled him. He hastened to Washington determined to give his best blows for Jackson and the Administration.[551]

John Marshall, in gloomy mood, found in the Proclamation the elixir for his pessimism.[552] Justice Story, despite his deep-seated prejudice, could not withhold his commendation, coupled with an expression of strange surprise. “The President’s Proclamation is excellent,” he wrote, “and contains the true principles of the Constitution; but will he stand to it? Will he not surrender all to the guidance of Virginia?”[553] Adams described it as a “blister plaster.”[554] Among all his long-time political opponents, Clay alone withheld enthusiastic commendation, with the comment that, “although there are some good things in it, there are some entirely too ultra for me.” In truth, the man who would “rather be right than President” seized eagerly upon the President’s patriotic position to curry favor with the extreme State-Rights men of the South.

Thus we soon enter upon the party phase of the fight. The effect upon some of Jackson’s State-Rights supporters was one of painful embarrassment. While the average Virginian had no sympathy with Nullification, he subscribed to the State-Rights doctrine and to the right of secession. The very point on which Clay cunningly and unscrupulously pounced was therefore the one which caused the greatest consternation among the Administration Democrats of the Old Dominion. It was to them that Clay was making his appeal. The Virginia Assembly, which had just unanimously elected W. C. Rives, a Jacksonian, to the Senate, instantly reversed itself by electing John Tyler, an enemy, to that body, to succeed Tazewell, who had resigned. W. S. Archer, writing to Cambreleng in New York, declared that it would be ridiculous to expect Virginia to endorse the Proclamation,[555] and Governor Floyd, who had received South Carolina’s vote in the recent election, rejoiced to find “the poor unworthy dogs, Ritchie, Van Buren & Co. deserted.”[556] To the momentarily embarrassed Ritchie, his cleverness pointed a way out. Penning a mild objection to some of the doctrinal points, he accepted it as primarily a denunciation of Nullification, and, as such, gave it the support of his great prestige and pen.[557]

Such was the position of many others among the Southern leaders of the Jackson party, but Ritchie found himself in a minority. John Tyler, never friendly to Jackson, now seized upon the Proclamation as a pretext for pushing to the head of the Opposition. Writing heatedly to Tazewell of the “servility” to party of many Southern statesmen supporting the President, he drew a gloomy picture of the future. The Proclamation, he thought, had “swept away all the barriers of the Constitution,” had established “a consolidated military despotism.” He “trembled” for South Carolina. “The war cry is up--rely upon it,” he wrote. “The boast is that the President by stamping like another Pompey on the earth can raise a hundred thousand men.”[558]

It is significant of Whig hopes, that, when Tyler wrote and Ritchie was supporting the President, John Hampden Pleasants, the editor of the “Richmond Whig,” and an intimate of Clay’s, was denouncing the principles enunciated by Jackson and Livingston.[559] Resolutions were adopted by the Legislature denouncing both Nullification and the Proclamation.

Nor was Jackson indifferent to the attitude Virginia might assume. He planned to isolate South Carolina, and he feared an alliance with Virginia more than with any other State. Wishing to reach the Virginians as speedily as possible, he called upon Lewis Cass to prepare a letter in the form of an appeal to be published in Ritchie’s “Richmond Enquirer.” Within a few days after the appearance of the Proclamation, Virginians were reading a letter described by Ritchie as from “one of the ablest men in the country.” Making no defense of the tariff, but pointing out the impossibility of the radical changes demanded being made within the limited time allowed by the Carolina politicians, he suggested that “Virginia might interpose most efficaciously, and add another leaf to the wreath which adorns her civic chaplet,” if her Legislature would appoint a committee to proceed to South Carolina and “entreat her convention ... to recall its late steps, and at all events to delay her final action till another trial is made to reduce the tariff.”[560] This was to lead, a little later, to the adoption of a similar plan.

Strange as it may now seem, the position of Virginia prevented New York from endorsing the Proclamation unqualifiedly, through her Legislature--and thereon hangs a tale of the political cunning of Martin Van Buren. In the Empire State the Proclamation had been received with enthusiasm. Even so bitter a partisan as Philip Hone poured forth his admiration and commendation on the pages of his diary. “As a composition, it is splendid,” he wrote, “and will take its place in the archives of our country, and dwell in the memory of our citizens alongside of the Farewell Address.... I think Jackson’s election may save the Union. If he is sincere in his Proclamation, he will put down this rebellion. Mr. Clay, pursuing the same measures, would not have been equally successful.”[561] We have seen, in Jackson’s letter to Hamilton, his desire that every agency of publicity should be employed to focus the sentiment against Nullification. The New York Legislature being then in session, Hamilton wrote leading men in Albany urging the passage of a commendatory resolution. In the absence of definite encouragement, he then wrote Van Buren, his political and personal friend, suggesting that he bring pressure to bear upon his friends in the Assembly. The letter was returned, opened, but unanswered, and Hamilton lost no time in writing of the incident to Jackson, with the comment that “this unfriendly, nay offensive course, resulted from Van Buren’s fear of offending the dominant political party in Virginia.”[562]

That Van Buren was deeply embarrassed by the doctrinal features of the Proclamation, if not by the possible effect upon his candidacy for the Presidency and his popularity among the Virginia politicians, has been admitted and explained by himself.[563] The document was delivered to him at the home of a friend in Albany as the party was in the act of going in to dinner. Instantly his practiced eye caught the phrasing that would arouse the ire of the State-Rights element. The Whigs in Albany were just as keen, and proceeded, with celerity, to take advantage. William H. Seward immediately offered a resolution in the State Senate to the effect that “the President of the United States ... had advanced the true principles upon which only the Constitution can be maintained and defended.” With Van Buren on the ground, and with the Democrats in the majority, the Whigs hoped, not without reason, either to force the Jacksonians to accept the conclusions of the resolution, or to a rejection of the endorsement, which would be interpreted as a rupture of the relations of the President and Vice-President. The Democrats did neither--they postponed action. It was probably at this juncture that Van Buren received the letter from Hamilton and returned it unanswered. Realizing, however, the fatality of non-action, Van Buren prepared a resolution, together with an elaborate and laborious report, taking issue with “the history given by the President of the formation of our Government,” and calculated to satisfy the State-Rights men of Virginia. These were adopted, and sent to the White House with an explanation. Just what Jackson thought of it will never be known, for he filed the letter without a word of comment to his secretary, in whose presence it was read.[564] Nor was the subject ever mentioned in future conversations between the two leaders.[565] That a copy was also sent to Rives and Ritchie in Virginia we may be sure.

Such were the cross-currents of party politics at the time, with Jackson playing a bold and straight game, thinking solely of the Union, and Clay and Van Buren, rival candidates for the Presidency, pussyfooting and conciliating on a vital issue.

Meanwhile what was the effect in South Carolina? Senator Hayne, now Governor, met the challenge of the President in an able document, bitter in its defiance, which fired the fighting blood of the Nullifiers. Preston described it as “a document whose elegance of diction, elaborate and conclusive argument, just and clear constitutional exposition, confuted all the show of argument of the President’s Proclamation.”[566] Outside of Nullification circles, the bitterness of this counterblast made a deep impression. Adams found it “full of bitter words,” and, after reading it, sent it to James K. Polk, the Jackson leader in the House.[567] The Hayne defiance was echoed by the Nullifiers. The eloquent Preston, addressing a mass meeting in Charleston, declared that “there are 16,000 back countrymen with arms in their hands and cockades in their hats, ready to march to our city at a moment’s warning to defend us.... I will pour down a torrent of volunteers that will sweep the myrmidons of the tyrant from the soil of Carolina.”[568] But Calhoun was disappointed with the Proclamation. He had hoped for an intemperate, ranting denunciation of the Carolinians that would heat their blood and put them on the march. The sober dignity of the document and its impressive appeal to the better natures of the people interfered with his plans.

In the House of Representatives, the Carolinians were seething with wrath. The impassioned McDuffie, according to Adams, “could not contain himself,” and declared that “if Congress should approve the principles of that proclamation, the liberties of the country were gone forever.” Whereupon Archer rose to suggest that a communication “would very shortly be received upon which the gentleman would have an opportunity to express his opinion without restraint.”[569]

IV

The excitement over the Proclamation found Calhoun remote from the turmoil and in the midst of his family at Fort Hill. There he lingered to enjoy the Christmas festivities, and the day following he started to Washington to take his place in the Senate. There was much drama in this winter journey to the capital. One of his biographers has compared it to “that of Luther to attend the diet of Worms.”[570] The public was convinced of the temper of Jackson and realized the possibilities when the lion in him was aroused. To some Calhoun’s journey suggested a death march. Looked upon as the prime mover, the instigator, the leader of the seditious movement, many thought that he would be arrested on the charge of treason before he crossed the Virginia border. Interest in his progress was intense, and even among those who abhorred the new doctrine there was no little sympathy for the grim, impeccably pure statesman who had the courage to beard the lion in his den. New Year’s Day found him at Raleigh, where he rested. Here crowds gathered to welcome, or merely to observe him, and a public dinner was offered him by his admirers. This he politely declined. There was something of grandeur in the dignity of his demeanor. As he proceeded from town to town, his approach was announced and elaborate preparations were made for his reception, for both North Carolina and Virginia were devoted to State Rights, and not a few of their citizens sympathized with the Carolina doctrine, and looked upon secession as an inevitable result of the crisis. Unlike the case of Burr, nothing personally sinister clung to him. His worst enemies conceded his honesty, and this was in his favor. Mrs. Bayard Smith, echoing the sentiment of the Washington drawing-rooms, found herself wondering, on Christmas Day, if all the “high soarings” of “one of the noblest and most generous spirits” were to end “in disappointment or humiliation or in blood.”[571] That this friendly atmosphere, through which he moved, was reassuring to Calhoun, we may assume from his letter to his son on reaching the capital. Here he found “things better than anticipated” and that it was beginning to be “felt that we must succeed.”

On the day he took the oath and his seat in the Senate, the little semi-circular chamber was crowded with friends and foes, drawn by the dramatic features of the situation. Tall, erect, his face sternly set, his iron-gray hair brushed back, he walked into the chamber over which he had presided, slowly and with a deliberation which seemed as studied as that of an actor upon the stage. When he took his seat, some Senators hastened to clasp his hand, but it was noticed that others, who had formerly been friendly, held back, deterred perhaps by the frown of the White House. At length the great scene--the taking of the oath. This he did in a reverential manner, and his voice was serious and solemn when he swore to support the Constitution which Jackson contended he had flagrantly violated.[572] The leader of Nullification was in his seat.

V

The day after Calhoun started on his journey to the capital, the Verplanck Tariff Bill, sanctioned by the Administration, was introduced in the House. This measure, it was thought, might go a long way toward preventing any accession to the ranks of the Nullifiers in that it went far toward meeting the objections to the revenue laws. It was a rather radical measure, providing for the immediate reduction of numerous duties, with further reductions a year later. The protection forces rallied at once for its defeat. Through all the parliamentary devices of delay, Jackson, keenly watching developments through the reports of Lewis and Donelson, was convinced that the Nullifiers were as much interested in its defeat as the protectionists. An “insulting and irritating speech” of Wilde of Georgia he thought “instigated by the Nullies, who wish no accommodation of the tariff.”[573] Long before it could be brought to a vote, it had been hammered beyond recognition by amendments and Jackson had lost interest in the reduction of the tariff, rather preferring first to whip Nullification without any preliminary concessions.

Meanwhile Jackson was awaiting developments before submitting his Message to Congress asking additional powers to put down the heresy. Through the latter part of December and the early part of January, Hayne was making open preparations for an armed resistance. Poinsett, reporting constantly, had abandoned hope of “putting down Nullification by moral force,” and hoped that the “vain blustering of these mad-men” would not influence Congress on the tariff, as “such a concession would confirm the power and popularity of the Nullifiers.”[574] He was anxious for the contest. “Is not raising, embodying, and marching men to oppose the laws of the United States an overt act of treason?” he wrote the Unionist Congressman from Charleston, who still hoped that the crisis could be passed without recourse to the Federal army.[575] Thus, early in January, Poinsett was anxious to have Federal troops sent into the State, while other Unionists still held back. In this controversy Jackson agreed with the conservatives that the Unionists of the State should first have an opportunity to demonstrate their ability to handle the situation.

On January 16th, Archer’s promise to McDuffie was fulfilled, when Jackson laid all the facts relative to the crisis before Congress with a request for authority to abolish or alter certain ports of entry, and to use the army to protect the officers in the discharge of their duties. He also asked for the revival of the sixth section of the Act of March 3, 1815, and for a provision for the removal to the United States Circuit Court, without copy of the record, of any suit brought in the State courts against any individual for an act performed under the laws of the United States. A grim touch was added in the request for authorization for marshals to make provision for keeping prisoners.

Very late on the night of the day the Message was submitted, Jackson, worn out and wretched from a bad cold, sat in his room writing to Poinsett. The Message had been read. Calhoun, “agitated and confused,” had “let off a little of his ire” against the President, and John Forsyth had replied “with great dignity and firmness.” That night it seemed to Jackson that Calhoun had been placed “between Scylla and Charybdis,” and was “reckless.” The uncertainty of negotiations had passed, and the hour for action--the happy hour for Jackson--had struck. The conferences with Drayton were over. Poinsett, at the front, was now the man of the hour. The moment the Nullifiers were “in hostile array,” this fact was to be certified to Jackson by the attorney for the district, or the judge, and he would “forthwith order the leaders arrested and prosecuted.” And he added in his note to Poinsett: “We will strike at the head and demolish the monster Nullification and secession at the threshold by the power of the law.”[576]

Thus, that night, the fingers of Andrew Jackson were itching for the throat of John C. Calhoun.

Five days later, Senator Wilkins, of the Judiciary Committee, presented the famous “Force Bill,” and one of the most violent debates in history began. On the following day, Calhoun submitted a set of resolutions setting forth his views of the constitutional question involved, in the hope of thereby directing the debate into that channel. But the Senate was in no temper for such a discussion and pushed forward to the debate on the main and pressing question. The Calhoun resolutions were speedily tabled. Wilkins led off in the debate, and others followed, one on the heels of the other, until at length John Tyler took the floor to deliver the speech which, after that of Calhoun, was the most forceful attack to be made upon the measure. Reading his speech to-day one wonders how the Republic outlived the Jackson Administrations. Dire calamity was predicted as a result of his every action. He saw Carolinians again driven “into the morasses where Marion and Sumter found refuge,” with their cities and towns leveled to the dust, and their daughters clothed in mourning, with “helpless orphans” made of their “rising sons.” But, he continued, “I will not despair. Rome had her Curtius, Sparta her Leonidas, and Athens her band of devoted patriots; and shall it be said that the American Senate contains not one man who will step forward to rescue his country in this, her moment of peril? Although that man may never wear an earthly crown or sway an earthly scepter, eternal fame shall weave an evergreen around his brow, and his name shall rank with the proudest patriots of the proudest climes.”

With the closing sentence, Tyler turned significantly to Henry Clay, who sat an interested spectator. Throughout this memorable debate he was to remain mute. The great orator and party leader was making sympathetic gestures to the extreme State-Rights men of the South. Even at this time, and knowing Tyler’s views, he was writing to his friend, Francis Brooke: “Will he [Tyler] be reëlected? We feel here some solicitude on that point, being convinced that under all circumstances, he would be far preferable to any person that could be sent.”[577] And such was his partisan hate of Jackson that the second leader of the party Opposition, John M. Clayton, in speaking in support of the Force Bill, could not refrain from an exhibition of boorishness and bigotry in coupling his advocacy of the Jackson measure with a sneer at Jackson.

“My support of the measure,” he said, “is predicated on no servile submission to any Executive mandate, on no implicit and unlimited faith in any man.... I will not be deterred from the adoption of this measure by any consideration of the source from which it has emanated.”

Thus did Clayton contribute to the pleasure of the Nullifiers by the denunciation of the man who stood in their way, and in sneering at those Southern Democrats who stood squarely behind Jackson despite the gibes of the Calhoun followers that they were yielding a servile submission.

Meanwhile Jackson’s supporters were giving the measure their undivided support, and none of them more heartily, and none so ably, as Senators from the South. Senator Felix Grundy of Tennessee, able lawyer, seasoned statesman, resourceful parliamentarian, took charge of the fight on the floor. Rives of Virginia, learned constitutional lawyer, scholarly, polished, heroically sacrificed a seat in the Senate to stand by the Union. And Forsyth of Georgia, “the greatest debater of his time,” affected to look upon the Nullification doctrine as “the double distilled essence of nonsense.”

As the fight developed and the certainty of defeat grew upon the Nullifiers, efforts were made to gain time, with the Administration forces pressing for action. Senator Willie Mangum of North Carolina, brilliant, and sacrificing a great career to drink, on securing the floor asked for an adjournment on the ground of indisposition. Ordinarily the request would have been granted. But Forsyth, Grundy, and Wilkins were instantly on their feet with objections. Calhoun, pointing out that Mangum was the only member of the Judiciary Committee opposed to the bill, begged that he be given an opportunity to explain his position, only to be told, none too graciously, by Wilkins, that he had no doubt of Mangum’s capacity to speak then. When Calhoun reminded him of Mangum’s plea of indisposition, he was ignored. At this juncture, Webster, who had been silent, suggested that Mangum could easily speak on another day and the debate proceed. Whereupon Senator King of Alabama made a transparent effort to draw Webster’s speech at once. The New England orator significantly replied that “the gentleman from Massachusetts fully understands the gentleman from Alabama; but he has no disposition to address the Senate at present, nor, under existing circumstances, at any other time, on the subject of this bill.” This was taken as indicating Webster’s conviction that up to that time the advocates of the bill needed no reënforcements, and that he would reserve himself for Calhoun.

It was during these proceedings that an exchange occurred between Poindexter and Grundy which illustrates the hair-trigger conditions in Carolina. A rumor had just spread through the chamber that Jackson had ordered a portion of the fleet to occupy Charleston Harbor, and had sent instructions to the military commander in Charleston, and Poindexter immediately offered a resolution calling upon the President for information as to his actions and intentions. Grundy calmly, if provokingly, suggested that perhaps some very respectable gentlemen of Charleston had furnished the President with information on which the secret orders had been issued, and that Poindexter would surely not ask the names of the gentlemen and all the circumstances of the disclosure.

“All--all--the whole of them!” cried Poindexter.

“But would not such disclosures lead to the immediate shedding of blood?” Grundy inquired.

“I care not if it does!” shouted the excited Mississippian. “Let us have the information no matter what the circumstances!”

Grundy smilingly took his seat.

Thus the debate dragged on--the two greatest figures still silent.

VI

Meanwhile, as the debate proceeded, Jackson was watching South Carolina and making all his preparations. On January 24th, he wrote Poinsett that the Force Bill debate was about to begin, that he had done his duty, and if Congress failed to act, and he should be informed of the assemblage of an armed force, he stood ready for drastic measures.[578] There is something of the heroic mingled with pathos in the picture this letter presents of Jackson at this time. It was late at night. The House sat late. He had not heard since seven o’clock. “My eyes grow dim.”

Two hours later he ordered General Scott to Charleston to repel by force any attempt to seize the forts.[579] Holding his rage in check, measuring every step by his constitutional and legal powers, determined to do nothing rashly to precipitate bloodshed, Jackson held himself in readiness, as the debate on the Force Bill proceeded, to meet any eventuality that might arise.[580] But Jackson and the Administration were not at all satisfied with the progress of the debate. None of the trio of genius, Clay, Webster, and Calhoun, had yet participated. It would be too much to expect that Clay would speak on behalf of any Jackson measure, and it was certain that Calhoun would deliver one of his characteristically powerful arguments against the bill. There was just one man strong enough to meet the impact of that argument, and that was Webster. It was a reasonable hope that he would prominently support the measure involving the principles he had made his own. Among his intimates, such as Story, it was expected that he would enter at the psychological moment, but the great orator kept his own counsels, and during the early part of the debate was absent from the Senate Chamber on other engagements. As Calhoun prepared his heavy artillery for action, the apprehension of Jackson and his supporters increased, and every effort was made, at first through Webster’s friends, to learn his intentions.[581] Then, one day, a carriage halted before the lodgings of Webster, and the tall figure of Livingston emerged and entered the house. It was not a half-hearted welcome to the Administration camp that the Secretary of State offered. On the contrary, Webster was earnestly importuned to take the lead on the floor, and to frame any amendments he thought necessary.[582] If such importunity was unnecessary, it was none the less pleasing to the vanity of the orator, and Livingston was able to carry back to the White House the assurance that when Calhoun spoke he would be answered by Webster. On the 11th of February, Webster was ready and waiting.[583] Four days later, abandoning the hope that Webster might speak first, Calhoun began one of the most powerful speeches of his career. The Senate Chamber and the galleries were packed.

As the tall, gaunt figure, with slightly stooped shoulders, rose, the solemnity of his mien and manner, the fire in the wonderful eyes that “watched everything and revealed nothing,” suggested, to some, the conspirator with his back against the wall, to others the austere patriot battling for the liberties of his country.[584] We need not concern ourselves with the general tenor of his remarkable argument--a reiteration and reënforcement of his constitutional views. But the general spirit of resentment, the passionate hate of Jackson, the defiance, constitute dramatic features that assist in the sensing of the atmosphere in which the mighty battle was waged. Almost in the beginning, in defending his support of the tariff of 1816, and explaining that he had spoken at the instance of Ingham, the late Secretary of the Treasury, this spirit flared in an amazing tribute to that mediocre and unscrupulous politician, and an indirect attack upon Jackson for dismissing him. As he proceeded, he startled the Senate now and then by the injection of personalities. Here a contemptuous fling at Van Buren, there a hint at Mrs. Eaton, and everywhere references to contemplated “war” and “massacres” and “savages.” “I proclaim it,” he solemnly declared, “that should this bill pass, and attempt be made to enforce it, it will be resisted at every hazard--even that of death itself.” It was two o’clock on the second day of the speech that Calhoun concluded, with a warning to Southern Senators that should the bill be enacted all of them would be excluded from the emoluments of the Government, “which will be reserved for those only who have qualified themselves, by political prostitution, for admission into the Magdalen Asylum.”

The moment he sank into his seat, Daniel Webster rose.

The relations between Webster and the Administration leaders after the visit of Livingston had been intimate and confidential, and the orator had availed himself of the invitation to make desirable amendments. One stormy day during this period, the great opponent of the Democratic Party might have been seen rolling up to the Capitol in the White House carriage. On the floor, when he rose, were many of the Administration leaders, including Lewis, ready to hasten the news of the speech and its reception to the White House, where Jackson was anxiously, but confidently, waiting. It was late in the evening when the orator concluded his masterful argument on the proposition that “the Constitution is not a compact between sovereign States.” Brushing aside the personalities, scarcely referring to any speech made during the debate, he took the resolutions Calhoun had submitted as embodying his views, and based his argument upon these. Speaking with his accustomed gravity, with more than his usual earnestness, without passion or personal feeling, he took up the sophistries of the Nullification school and crushed them, one by one. Nullification was revolution, and success meant the destruction of the Republic, chaos, the end of American liberty. To prevent these evils was the duty of the National authority; and the Force Bill was necessary for their prevention.

Long before he closed, the lights had been lit in the little Senate Chamber where the crowd was densely packed. With his conclusion the galleries rose and cheered, and Poindexter, outraged at the exhibition of feeling, indignantly demanded an immediate adjournment. The great word had been spoken in the Senate--the Proclamation reiterated on the floor. No one was more delighted with Webster’s triumph than Jackson. “Mr. Webster replied to Mr. Calhoun yesterday,” he wrote Poinsett, “and, it is said, demolished him. It is believed by more than one that Mr. Calhoun is in a state of dementation--his speech was a perfect failure; and Mr. Webster handled him as a child.”[585]

Thus Webster entered upon more intimate relations with the White House, with Jackson personally thanking him for a great public service, and Livingston reiterating expressions of appreciation. The Jackson Senators, Isaac Hill excepted, joined in the assiduous cultivation of the orator, and he was invited to strike from a list of applicants for office the names of all displeasing to himself. Such was the enthusiasm of the President that overtures were unquestionably made to Webster, as set forth by Benton,[586] to gain his adherence to the Administration. It was a crisis in his life and in the politics of the Nation. He was then closer to Jackson’s views on vital matters than to those of either Clay or Calhoun. His antipathy to the latter’s doctrines was as pronounced as that of Jackson; and he had no respect for Clay’s play to the seditious with his compromise tariff. His ideas were not remote from those of Livingston. Had he then broken with his old co-workers, and allied himself with the dominant party, he would have been advanced immeasurably toward the Presidency. Senator Lodge admits[587] that there was much truth in Benton’s theory, but reasonably holds that the coalition would have been wrecked by the inevitable clashing of the conflicting temperaments.

VII

Meanwhile, with the debate dwindling to an anti-climax, Calhoun and his friends were not nearly so indifferent to war as they pretended. It was generally understood that Jackson was ready and eager to strike the moment an overt act was committed. With Hayne urging caution, some irresponsible hothead might at any moment hasten the crisis. Then, all knew, Jackson would place South Carolina under martial law, arrest Calhoun for treason, and turn him over to the courts for trial. Some of the latter’s friends began to interest themselves in a compromise tariff that would open a door of escape. The Whig protectionists, the Nullifiers, and the Bank were rapidly rushing together to make common cause against Jackson. Under Clay’s leadership at the beginning of the session these elements united in electing Duff Green, of the “Telegraph,” printer to the Senate, and Gales, of the “Intelligencer,” to the House. Thus, through Clay, the Nullification organ secured a new lease of life, and flooded the South with circularized appeals for support. “If the people of the South deserve to be free they will not permit this press to go down,” Green wrote--and this was known to Clay. The Bank party looked on approvingly, with John Sargeant writing enthusiastically to Biddle of the new political alignments. “The new state of parties,” he wrote, “will be founded upon a combination of the South, and the leaders of it are friends of the Bank upon principle, and will be more so from opposition to Jackson.”[588] With this alignment in mind, John M. Clayton cynically observed to Clay that “these South Carolinians are acting very badly, but they are good fellows, and it would be a pity to let Jackson hang them.”[589] When Representative Letcher of Kentucky, a boisterous partisan of Clay’s, suggested the compromise plan to his chief, he “received it at first coolly and doubtfully.”[590] Afterwards Clay reconsidered and broached the subject to Webster, who, holding the Jackson view, replied that “it would be yielding great principles to faction; that the time had come to test the strength of the Constitution and the Government.”[591] Thereafter Webster was not included in the consultations.

Perhaps the true story of the compromise tariff of 1833 will never be known. One version credits the initiative to Clayton in calling a meeting of men primarily interested in the tariff, and only incidentally in the Nullification crisis, consisting of but half the New England Senators, and the two from Delaware, with Clay, Webster, and Calhoun all absent.[592] Many years later John Tyler accepted the responsibility. According to his version he “waited on Mr. Clay.” They “conversed about the times.” Clay “saw the danger.” Tyler “appealed to his patriotism,” and “no man appealed so in vain.” The Virginian referred Clay “to another man as the only one necessary to consult, and that man was John C. Calhoun.” It would not only be necessary for Clay to “satisfy his own party,” but to “reconcile an opposite party by large concessions.” Thus Clay and Calhoun “met, consulted and agreed.”[593] This differs in some particulars from the Benton version.[594] Here we have it that Clay prepared his measure and sent it to Calhoun by Letcher, as the two negotiators were not, at the time, on speaking terms. Finding some objectionable features which he thought a personal interview would persuade the author to eliminate, Calhoun asked Letcher to arrange a conference, which was held in Clay’s room. The meeting was “cold and distant.” Clay rose, bowed, and asked Calhoun to be seated, and, to relieve the embarrassment, Letcher took his departure. Clay refused to yield.

The story here enters into the melodramatic although there is nothing impossible about it. Letcher, in another conference, this time with Jackson, found the grim old warrior hard set against any sort of a compromise, unwilling to discuss one, and determined to enforce the laws. The Kentuckian related the conversation to McDuffie; he to Calhoun. A little later Letcher was awakened from a sound sleep by Senator Johnston of Louisiana, an intimate friend of Clay, with the startling story that he had heard authoritatively that Jackson would admit of no further delay, and was preparing to arrest Calhoun for treason. It was agreed that the Carolinian should be immediately notified, and in the darkness of the night Letcher hastened to Calhoun’s lodgings. As the gaunt statesman sat up in bed, the Johnston story was told him and “he was evidently disturbed.”[595] That some such incident occurred is corroborated by Perley Poore,[596] who was an observer of events in the Washington of that day. Here we have some embellishments. Calhoun had heard some threats and had sent Letcher to Jackson to ascertain his intentions. The old man’s eyes had been “lighted by an unwonted fire,” and he had told the emissary that with the first overt act, he would try Calhoun for treason and “hang him high as Haman.” Thereupon Letcher made all haste to Calhoun, who received him sitting up in bed, with a cloak thrown around him. “There sat Calhoun,” wrote Perley Poore, “drinking in eagerly every word, and, as Letcher proceeded, he turned pale as death, and great as he was in intellect, trembled like an aspen leaf, not from fear or cowardice, but from consciousness of guilt.”[597] Here we detect the professional journalist drawing perhaps on his imagination to dramatize the picture.

However, Calhoun, convinced of Jackson’s grim determination, was ready to welcome a way out short of conflict or utter humiliation, and at the same time Clay and Clayton were not happy over the situation. The protective system had brought the country to the very verge of disintegration. With Nullification crushed by force, conservative public opinion might demand a complete reversal of the revenue policy and destroy the “American System.” That Clay at this time was thinking primarily of the preservation of his protective system, and secondarily of currying favor with the extreme State-Rights party, including the Nullifiers, is plainly disclosed in the record. Thus the proposed combination of the Nullifiers and the protectionists to stay the arm of Jackson. In this combination no one was more prominent than John M. Clayton, the brilliant and bibulous, who frankly cared less about saving the Union than of saving the tariff, and who would “pause long before he surrendered it [the tariff] even to save the Union.”[598] He was to prove himself as good as his word a little later.

Thus, in the midst of the discussion of the Force Bill, Clay, Calhoun, Clayton, Letcher, and Tyler were in constant communication on the compromise tariff. Webster was utterly ignored, as was Jackson, these two refusing to “compromise a principle” in any such fashion.[599] The fact that Clay and Calhoun had reached a general agreement was soon known, and it was accepted as an offensive and defensive alliance against Jackson. “They are partners in a contra dance,” wrote Blair in the “Globe.” “For some time they turned their backs on each other. They will make a match of it. In plain English, we have a new coalition.”[600]

In due time the bill was introduced by Clay, much to the delight of Tyler. “I recall the enthusiasm I felt that day,” said Tyler, almost thirty years afterwards. “We advanced to meet each other, and grasped each other’s hands, midway of the chamber.”[601] This measure, differing from Clay’s original plan, provided that for all articles paying more than twenty per cent duty, the surplus above that rate should be gradually reduced, until in 1842 all should disappear. The manufacturers as usual had been summoned and consulted. At first dismayed and outraged, they soon realized that it was to their interest to fall into line. Certain features had been voted down in committee, but here Clayton asserted himself. He announced that these would be introduced as amendments on the floor, and that unless every Nullifier voted for them all, he would kill the bill himself by making the motion to table it. The most objectionable of these, to Calhoun, was that on home valuation.

Such was the situation when Clay presented the bill on February 12th, three days before Calhoun rose to speak on the Force Bill. Webster and Adams, thoroughly disgusted, at once announced their opposition, and Jackson could not restrain his contempt for the unholy alliance, which was almost immediately to become a triple alliance with the Bank as the third party. “I have no doubt,” the President wrote Hamilton, “the people will duly appreciate the motive which led to it.”[602]

In presenting the measure, Clay made no secret of his purpose. “I believe the American System to be in the greatest danger,” he said, “and I believe that it can be placed on a better and a safer foundation at this session than next.” Webster, however, was not impressed. “This may be so, sir,” he replied. “This may be so. But, if it be so, it is because the American people will not sanction the tariff; and if they will not, then, sir, it cannot be sustained at all.” Calhoun heartily approved the object of the bill. “He who loves the Union,” he said, “must desire to see this agitating question brought to a termination.” John Forsyth, representing the Administration, objected to the introduction of the bill fourteen days before the expiration of the Congress. Would it not be better to await the action of the House on the bill before it--the Verplanck Bill? And he objected, properly, on the ground that all revenue measures had to originate in the House. This constitutional objection, raised by Forsyth, was met on February 25th just as the House was about to adjourn for dinner, when the ever handy Letcher arose and moved the substitution of the Clay bill for the one then pending. The motion was carried and the bill passed the lower branch of Congress.[603]

Thus the two measures, the Force Bill and the compromise tariff, were pending in the Senate at the same time, with Clay making every effort, but without avail, to pass his measure first.

On February 24th the Force Bill was called up for final action. With the beginning of the calling of the roll, all the enemies of the measure, with the single exception of John Tyler, arose and filed from the Senate Chamber. Taken by surprise at such conduct, Tyler immediately moved an adjournment. Wilkins called attention to the fact that Calhoun and his followers had just that moment withdrawn, and the motion was defeated. The roll-call proceeded--and only the name of John Tyler appears on the list of the negatives. Such was always the courage of this much-belittled man--a courage which we shall meet again.[604] Five days later the tariff bill was called up, and Clayton offered his amendments which were so offensive to Calhoun and his followers, repeating his threat to kill the bill if Calhoun and all the Nullifiers did not vote for every amendment. Clay and Calhoun consulted, and Clayton was importuned to yield, but the stubborn protectionist was adamant. Thus confronted, Clay and Calhoun accepted the amendments, and, as Clayton presented them, voted for them, one by one, until the last and most distasteful, on home valuation, was reached.

Here the friends of Calhoun balked, and Clayton, never given to idle bluster, immediately made his motion to table the bill. Clay implored, and Clayton set his jaws and shook his head. The measure seemed doomed. Meanwhile, the Nullifiers, greatly alarmed, withdrew to the space behind the Vice-President’s chair for consultation. Finally Clayton was requested to withdraw his motion to give Calhoun and his friends time for consideration. With the understanding that, unless the votes were forthcoming, the motion would be renewed, the request was granted, and the Senate adjourned for the night.

The morning found Clayton confronted with a plan devised during the night to spare Calhoun the humiliation of voting for the hated amendment, provided enough votes were assured to carry it through without his vote. The immovable Clayton sternly shook his head. Calhoun must vote for every amendment and for the bill. When the Senate convened, it was still uncertain what the Carolinian would do. At length, after all of his friends had first stated their objections, and yet reluctantly yielded, Calhoun arose, repeated the performance, and, having voted for the amendment at the dictation of Clayton, voted for the bill.[605] The unhappy plight of Calhoun was not lost upon his enemies, and Blair found in it an inspiration for his sarcasm. “A single night,” he wrote, “was sufficient to change the settled opinion of the profound reader of the Constitution. We exceedingly doubt whether in the private interview in which Mr. Clay disposed of Mr. Calhoun’s constitutional scruples, a word was uttered in relation to the Constitution.”[606] Thus passed into law, under circumstances deserving of Benton’s reprehension, the measure concocted by a combination of erstwhile foes.[607] The Nullifiers died hard, and Duff Green, the pen of Nullification, made printer to the Senate by this incongruous combination, in performing the hateful official duty of publishing the Force Bill in the “Telegraph,” had the impudence to dress his paper in mourning. “This is the way,” observed a Jacksonian paper, “this ungrateful wretch shows his gratitude to the Senate for his recent appointment.”[608]

VIII

Meanwhile, what of South Carolina?

The letter of Cass, published in the “Richmond Enquirer,” had borne fruit, and Virginia had sent Benjamin Watkins Leigh, a lawyer of distinction and an orator of no mean ability, to Charleston to ask a suspension of the Nullification Ordinance until Congress had adjourned. An ardent devotee of State Rights, now a bitter enemy of Jackson, and soon to enter the Senate to make his opposition felt, he had much in his principles and personality to command a respectful hearing from South Carolina. The call of the Nullification Convention was consequently postponed until after the adjournment of Congress, and March 11th was fixed as the day for reassembling. By that time it was all over--the Force Bill in effect. The convention met at Columbia, with Hayne in the chair. Leigh was invited within the bar. The dominating figure of the scene, however, was Calhoun, who had gone post-haste to Carolina to urge the acceptance of the compromise. The tall, thin figure of the great Senator, seated among the delegates on the floor, was the star of the assembly. A committee was named to consider the general course of action; and one week later the Ordinance of Nullification was rescinded, and by a vote of 153 to 4 the convention agreed that the threatened danger was over.

The political effect of the fight was to be felt throughout the period of the generation then living. The Secessionists and Nullifiers paraded, with much flapping of banners, out of the Democratic Party, to be joyously and effusively welcomed by Henry Clay into the Opposition. During the remainder of Jackson’s Administration, the most bitter and persistent of his foes were to be men, once Democrats, who had left the party because Jackson was prepared to preserve the Union with the sword. Calhoun and Preston, McDuffie and Poindexter, Leigh and Tyler--these were to crowd Clay for the leadership of the party that now prepared to enter the lists against Jackson and his Administration, flying the flag, and posing as the real friends of the Republic and the Constitution. If they had been free with their characterizations of Jackson during the Nullification fight as “tyrant,” “despot,” “autocrat,” they were to use the epithets more frequently in opposing him upon the Bank. If during this latter struggle they were to speak with almost convincing eloquence of the destruction of free institutions, they had learned the language when calling upon the people to defend their liberties against the author of the Nullification Proclamation. Out of this alliance, for which Clay had so cunningly planned, was to come a party to oppose the Democratic Party with indifferent success for twenty-two years; and, strangely enough, the only one of its leaders to become a beneficiary of the unholy alliance was John Tyler, who was to reach the White House. Poinsett, after the Nullification fight, retired to his rice plantation, where he lived with his books and enjoying the society of cultivated men and women, until called by Van Buren to enter his Cabinet. Serving throughout the Administration, he returned, at the expiration of his term, to his plantation, where he died ten years before the attack on Sumter.

The passage of the two important measures was not, however, to end the drama of the session--one of the most dramatic in American history. It was on the last night that Jackson, finding many of his friends had left the Capitol, “pocketed” Clay’s Land Bill and his own veto. Naturally enough the session ended in bitter partisan wrangles and with much bad blood on both sides. Uproarious shouts of derision greeted the customary resolution of thanks to the Speaker. Many members were in a state of hopeless drunkenness. It was five o’clock in the morning when Adams invited Edward Everett to ride home with him. The drowsy driver touched the horses, and over the frozen ruts of the Avenue, the carriage jolted homeward. Almost immediately the driver was asleep, and the carriage, striking a rut in front of Gadsby’s, the sleepy statesmen narrowly escaped a plunge into the snow. Soon, however, they reached the “macadamized part of the Avenue,” without more mishaps; and having left Everett at his lodgings, Adams alighted and walked to his own home, with the thermometer registering six below zero. Thus the last figure of that historic and bitter session of whom we catch a glimpse is that of the short, blear-eyed ex-President, trudging homeward through the dark, ill-paved Washington streets at five o’clock on a frigid morning.[609]