Charles Sumner to William Jay, March 18, 1850

In this moment of discomfiture I turn to you. I am sick at heart as I think of the treason of our public men. Freedom is forgotten in the miserable competition of party and in the schemes of an ignorant ambition. Webster has placed himself in the dark list of apostates. He reminds me very much of Strafford, or of the archangel ruined. In other moods, I might call him Judas Iscariot, or Benedict Arnold. John Quincy Adams, as he lay in his bed in Boston after he was struck with that paralysis which closed his days at Washington, expressed to me a longing to make one more speech in Congress in order to give his final opinions on slavery, and particularly (I now give his own words) “to expose the great fallacy of Mr. Daniel Webster, who is perpetually talking about the Constitution, while he is indifferent to freedom and those great interests which the Constitution was established to preserve.” Alas! that speech was never made. But the work ought to be done. Blow seems to follow blow. There was Clay's barbarous effort, then Winthrop's malignant attack,¹ and now comes Webster's elaborate treason. What shall we do? But I have unbounded faith in God and in the future. I know we shall succeed. But what shall we do?

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¹ Speech in the House, Feb. 21, 1850.

SOURCE: Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and Letters of Charles Sumner, Vol. 3, p. 213

Diary of Gideon Welles: December 1, 1865

It is some weeks since I have had time to write a word in this diary. In the mean time many things have happened which I desired to note but none of very great importance. What time I could devote to writing when absent from the Department has been given to the preparation of my Annual Report. That is always irksome and hard labor for me. All of it has been prepared at my house out of the office hours, except three mornings when I have remained past my usual hour of going to the Department.

My reports are perhaps more full and elaborate than I should make them; but if I wish anything done I find I must take the responsibility of presenting it. Members of Congress, though jealous of anything that they consider, or which they fear others will consider, dictation, are nevertheless timid as regards responsibility. When a matter is accomplished they are willing to be thought the father of it, yet some one must take the blows which the measure receives in its progress. I therefore bring forward the principal subjects in my report. If they fail, I have done my duty. If they are carried, I shall contend with no one for the credit of paternity. I read the last proof pages of my report this evening.

Members of Congress are coming in fast, though not early. Speaker Colfax came several days since. His coming was heralded with a flourish. He was serenaded, and delivered a prepared speech, which was telegraphed over the country and published the next morning. It is the offspring of an intrigue, and one that is pretty extensive. The whole proceeding was premeditated.

My friend Preston King committed suicide by drowning himself in the Hudson River. His appointment as Collector was unfortunate. He was a sagacious and honest man, a statesman and legislator of high order and of unquestioned courage in expressing his convictions and resolute firmness in maintaining them. To him, a Democrat and Constitutionalist, more than to any other one man may be ascribed the merit of boldly meeting the arrogant and imperious slaveholding oligarchy and organizing the party which eventually overthrew them. While Wendell Phillips, Sumner, and others were active and fanatical theorists, Preston King was earnest and practical. J. Q. Adams and Giddings displayed sense and courage, but neither of them had the faculty which K. possessed for concentrating, combining, and organizing men in party measures and action. I boarded in the same house with King in 1846 when the Wilmot Proviso was introduced on an appropriation bill. Root and Brinkerhoff of Ohio, Rathbun and Grover and Stetson [sic]¹ of New York, besides Wilmot and some few others whom I do not recall, were in that combination, and each supposed himself the leader. They were indeed all leaders, but King, without making pretensions, was the man, the hand, that bound this sheaf together. From the day when he took his stand King never faltered. There was not a more earnest party man, but he would not permit the discipline and force of party to carry him away from his honest convictions. Others quailed and gave way but he did not. He was not eloquent or much given to speech-making, but could state his case clearly, and his undoubted sincerity made a favorable impression always.

Not ever having held a place where great individual and pecuniary responsibility devolved upon him, the office of Collector embarrassed and finally overwhelmed him.

Some twenty-five years ago he was in the Retreat for the Insane in Hartford, and there I knew him. He became greatly excited during the Canadian rebellion and its disastrous termination and the melancholy end of some of his townsmen had temporarily impaired his reason. But it was brief; he rapidly recovered, and, unlike most persons who have been deranged, it gave him no uneasiness and he spoke of it with as much unconcern as of a fever. The return of the malady led to his committing suicide. Possessed of the tenderest sensibilities and a keen sense of honor, the party exactions of the New York politicians, the distress, often magnified, of those whom he was called upon to displace, the party requirements which Weed, who boarded with him, and others demanded, greatly distressed him, and led to the final catastrophe.

King was a friend and pupil of Silas Wright, with whom he studied his profession; was the successor of that grand statesman in both branches of Congress. Both had felt most deeply the bad faith and intrigue which led to the defeat of Van Buren in 1844, and to the ultimate downfall of the Democratic party, for the election of Polk, Pierce, and Buchanan were but flickering efforts to rekindle the fires of the old organizations. Confidence and united zeal never again prevailed, and parties subsequently took a sectional or personal character.

_______________

¹ There was no Stetson in Congress at the time. Perhaps Wheaton of New York, who was one of the supporters of the Proviso, was the man whom Mr. Welles had in mind.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 2: April 1, 1864 — December 31, 1866, p. 384-7

Henry Clay to John J. Crittenden, March 10, 1826

Washington, March 10, 1826.

Dear Crittenden, — Robert Scott informs me that there are several cases of the estate of Colonel Morrison on the docket of the new Court of Appeals. I should be glad if they were anywhere else; but, being there, I must beg that you will not allow the estate to suffer for the want of counsel. If you do not practice in the new court and believe that counsel may be nevertheless necessary there, be pleased to engage for me some one who does. I have absolutely not had time or health to keep up my private and friendly correspondence during the past winter with any regularity. With respect to politics, from others and from the public prints, you have no doubt received most of the information which I should have been able to communicate. In the House of Representatives members and talents are largely on the side of the administration. In the Senate matters do not stand so well. There are about sixteen or seventeen senators resolved on opposition at all events, seven or eight more are secretly so disposed, and indulge in that spirit, as far as they can, prudently. When these two sections unite, they make together a small majority. Near three months ago a nomination was made of ministers to Panama. That subject has been selected for opposition, and by numerous contrivances, the measure has been delayed to this time, and may be for some days to come. On all collateral questions, these senators who are secretly disposed to opposition, vote with the Macedonian phalanx, and thus making a majority procrastinate the decision. Nevertheless, that decision is not believed by either party to be doubtful. The measure will be finally sanctioned by a small majority. The Vice-President (your particular friend) is up to the hub with the opposition, although he will stoutly deny it when proof cannot be adduced. One of the main inducements with him and those whom he can influence is, that they suppose, if they can defeat, or by delay cripple the measure, it will affect me. I am sorry to tell you that our senator (Mr. Rowan) is among the bitterest of the opponents to the administration. He appears as if he had been gathering a head of malignity for some years back, which he is now letting off upon poor Mr. Adams and his administration; he is, however, almost impotent. As for the Colonel, he is very much disposed to oblige all parties, and is greatly distressed that neither of them is willing to take him by moieties. If the Relief party should decline (as Jackson's cause seems to be giving way), the Colonel will be a real, as he is now a nominal, supporter of the administration. The President wishes not to appoint a judge in place of our inestimable friend, poor Todd, until the Senate disposes of the bill to extend the judiciary, though he may, by the delay to which that body seems now prone, be finally compelled to make the appointment without waiting for its passage or rejection. It is owing principally to Mr. Rowan that an amendment has been made in the Senate, throwing Kentucky and Ohio into the same circuit, and his object was to prevent any judge from being appointed in Kentucky. He told me himself that he wished the field of election enlarged for a judge in our circuit. Give my respects to Blair, and tell him I mean to write to him soon,—not, however, on Kentucky politics. Say to him that I should be very glad to gratify him if I could, by expressing an opinion in favor of the ——— or a compromise, but I would rather oblige him in any other matter. I mean to abjure Kentucky politics, not because I have not the deepest interest in all that concerns her character and prosperity, but—it is not worth while to trouble you with the reasons.

I am faithfully your friend,

H. Clay.

Hon. J. J. Crittenden.

SOURCE: Mrs. Chapman Coleman, The Life of John J. Crittenden, Volume 1, p. 63-5

Ezekiel Webster to Congressman Daniel Webster, April 3, 1823

April 3, 1823.

Dear Daniel,—I received yours this morning. Of all the candidates named for the Presidency, the people of New Hampshire would undoubtedly prefer Mr. Adams. Mr. Adams being out of the question, I think Mr. Calhoun would be their choice. I think neither Jackson, Crawford, nor Clay could ever obtain the votes of this State. They would prefer to have a Northern man for the President, and I think would vote for Mr. Clinton, if there should be any prospect of his being chosen. It seems to me there is among us a pretty strong local feeling, something like a very general wish that the next President should be from the North. There is a kind of presentiment that, after this election, we may give up all further expectation.

Of all the persons named I reply Calhoun. Yet, if a prominent man from New England, New York, or Pennsylvania should /be put in nomination against him, I think he would obtain the electoral vote.

Consulting my own feelings and wishes at this time, I should put the candidates in this order, Adams, Calhoun, Clinton. I am, however, very incompetent to judge correctly of their qualifications.

For the time we had to labor we did something. Every department of the government will be what is called here anti-Hill. Some good will result from the change, not immediately perhaps, but in time.

The result of the election was one of the most unexpected, and yet one of the most natural events that could be imagined. Here is a paradox, I give no more.

I intend to be in Boston the 3d day of May, as I have some engagements after the 10th that will require me to be at home.

Yours affectionately,

Ezekiel Webster.

SOURCE: Fletcher Webster, Editor, The Private Correspondence of Daniel Webster, Volume 1, p. 323-4

George M. Bibb to John J. Crittenden, March 8, 1824

Washington, March 8, 1824.

DEAR JOHN,—That there are men who will ascribe my actions to any motive but a reasonable one, I know, but that any should suppose that I have come to Washington for the purpose of electioneering against Mr. Clay is an extravagance that I did not anticipate would have been charged against me. My great motive in coming here was to get a hearing and decision in my suit for the land at Falmouth; in this I have succeeded. The opinion is delivered, and is in my favor. I endeavored to lay a contribution on other suitors in the court to help pay expenses of the trip, but the people of Kentucky are not drilled to paying fees to the lawyers. They pay in promises. As to Mr. Clay, he has broken the cords of friendship which bound me to him; they can never again be tied. I have no desire to interfere with your friendship for him, nor to trouble you with complaints of his conduct to me. Beware of such sunshine friends! As to electioneering upon the subject of President, I am as far removed from it as Washington is from Kentucky. I have heard a great deal; said little. I am not a member of Congress, and have, therefore, no right to go to caucus or vote in caucus, nor have I a vote when the question shall come before the House of Representatives. A listener, who hears all parties, is perhaps better able to form his opinions than those who are heated, busy, bustling managers. The grand Harrisburg Convention has decided, with but a single dissenting voice, for Jackson. Roberts was the only man who did not, upon the first vote, declare for Jackson. This has given a new impetus to him. The anticipation that Pennsylvania would declare for him gave him great advantages. The undivided voice of the Convention at Harrisburg has surprised the friends of all the other candidates, — save those of Calhoun, — they looked for it after the meeting in the county of Philadelphia, for the purpose of choosing a delegate to the Convention at Harrisburg. It seems that the people of North Carolina are taking up Jackson, as Pennsylvania did, against their politicians and of their own mere will. So it is in New York. The majority of the Senate are disposed to keep the appointment of electors in the legislature, — that is their calculation for Crawford; but a large majority of the House of Representatives of that State are decidedly opposed to Crawford. Adams is the most potent there. With the people, Jackson is next to Adams, and should the election go to the people Jackson may prevail in that State. The indications in Maryland are for Jackson. Tennessee and Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana and Missouri, for Jackson. All New England for Adams. As for Indiana and Ohio, it is difficult now to say for whom their vote will be. The most knowing say that the substantial controversy is now between Adams and Jackson, and by a union of the slaveholding States with Pennsylvania Jackson may be elected. Unless Clay gets the votes of New York he cannot be one of the three from whom the House of Representatives is to choose. What revolutions in the electoral votes may take place before the time of choosing the Electoral College, should the friends of Crawford find out what everybody else seems to have found out (that he cannot be elected either by the people or the House of Representatives), cannot be foreseen. Jackson's ticket is every day acquiring new friends. Since the Convention at Harrisburg his pretensions are placed before the people by means of newspapers that were devoted before to other candidates. So much for politics. The great case, between Jersey and New York as it is called, upon the constitutionality of the law of New York, giving to Fulton the exclusive right to navigate the waters of New York by steamboats, is decided against New York. In this cause, I heard from Wirt the greatest display that I have ever heard at the bar since the days of Patrick Henry. His legal argument was very strong; his peroration was beautiful and grand. I did not hear Webster, nor Oakley, nor Emmett in this case, but all are said to have exhibited great talents. I have heard Webster, Sergeant, and White, of Tennessee. Wirt, Webster, White, and Ogden are the ablest lawyers, and Walter Jones should also be ranked among the first. Emmett I have not heard, but his reputation is high. After all, I have not been convinced that the bar of Kentucky does not contain as much talent and force as any other bar in the Union.

SOURCE: Mrs. Chapman Coleman, The Life of John J. Crittenden, Volume 1, p. 60-1

George M. Bibb to John J. Crittenden, March 17, 1824

March17th. I have heard Wirt in another great case, opposed by Clay and Harper. Wirt rises with the occasion and the opposing force. The bill for putting the choice of the electors of New York to the people has been rejected by the Senate, so that it cannot now be foreseen how New York will be. The majority of the Senate for Crawford, the majority of the House of Representatives against him. Mr. Clay's prospects there, feeble as they were, are gone. We may now begin to settle down between Jackson and Adams. I can have no hesitation; my voice is for Jackson.

Monroe is here, our Tom, and is charged with a speech. I have no mission in view; I expect to be a pleader of causes as long as I am able to follow the profession. I had not, in coming here, any other motive or prospect. This day week I expect to be off to Kentucky.

Yours, as ever,

George M. Bibb.

SOURCE: Mrs. Chapman Coleman, The Life of John J. Crittenden, Volume 1, p. 61-2

Nathaniel Peabody Rogers: Colonization Love and “Logic,” September 8, 1838

Abolition Logic

“Not hate of one's neighbor.” We prove it to be hate, because it wants to send off. Hatred repels, and would expel. Love attracts, draws, wishes to detain. Colonization proposes to rid the land of colored people. It therefore, cannot love them. Its love is mere pretence. — Herald of Freedom.

This argument, poor as it is, with hardly speciousness enough to deceive a sensible boy of six years old, is the same that was used by George Thompson, in our debate with him in Boston. But how will this argument work? A New Hampshire father sends off his son to make his fortune on the rich lands of the West. Therefore he hates him. A Boston merchant sends off his son to Europe or the East Indies, that he may extend his schemes of enterprise, and acquire wealth. Therefore he hales him. We send off missionaries to barbarous nations, that they may extend the blessings of Christianity, and receive in a future world the rewards of those that turn many to righteousness. Therefore we hate these missionaries. The consent of those who depart seems to make no difference in the view of this sage editor. “We prove it to be hate because it wants to send off.”

It is a little ludicrous that the editor of the Herald should actually kill his own argument, even before he reaches the bottom of his column. “It won't hurt a slave to send him to Africa. It won't, to send him any where out of the infernal regions. We had rather he might get to Canada, — but if he can't go there — or to the West Indies — or to England — or France — or Spain, or Turkey, or Algiers — or any other comparatively free country under heaven — why, rather than remain in America, among our Colonizationists, let him go to Liberia — or to the bottom of the sea — or to the sharks. No monster of the deep would devour him with the cruel tooth of our republicanism.”

He also proposes, in another article, to colonize slaves in Canada. Seriously, we think there are strong indications of insanity in the Herald.

The above is from the Rev. R. R. Gurley, Secretary and chief engineer of the American Colonization Society — that grand "American system” of machinery for clearing this country of free colored people, by a sort of suction-pump force, called “consent.” They say, however, the “Niggers” come hard; and though the pump draws upon them, like doctor's instruments upon a tooth, yet they stick to the soil like a lamprey eel to the rocks; and though the Secretary “hangs on like a dog to a root,” they “hang back, like a dog going to the gallows.” Resist sternly, colored friends! “Abide in the ship.” The land shall soon be indeed your country and your home. Lay your bones in it. Your tyrants and persecutors will go and evangelize Africa, themselves, when they really wish her evangelized.

The wily Secretary has ventured upon a little article of ours, with true Tracy philology and word-hunting. “Send off.” The magnificent “statesman” here finds a field for the scope of his continental philanthropy. The argument, he says, is the same that was used by George Thompson. All the better for that. George Thompson is an authority. He is a mm of instinctive and intuitive judgment on this question. But it is a poor argument, says the Secretary, “with hardly speciousness enough to deceive a sensible school boy of six years old.” Any argument is always poor in the eyes of the Secretary, that is clear “of speciousness and false show, and that can't deceive sensible school boys. We don't intend to use specious arguments,— “showy, plausible, superficially not solidly right,” as Walker defines them! The Secretary had better not use any more of them. “Fair play is a jewel.”

“How will this argument work?” Try it and see, Secretary.

You don't try it. You put different cases. You speak of farmers sending away sons for their benefit and fortunes. We speak of sending off — a sending off to get rid of. Farmers don't send off their sons, unless they get angry, and forget their nature, and disinherit them. Then they send them off. This sending to the West is not true in fact. The sons want to go from New Hampshire rocks to the prairied West. They have heard stories about it almost as extravagant and false as the Secretary tells about the death-haunted capes of Liberia, where bones lie bleaching as they do in the valley of the fabled Upas. The father wants them to stay with him, if he has got land for them, and if he han't, he would go with them. That is the way the father sends off his sons. Does the Secretary send off the dear colored people so?  Would he accompany them? Let him go and edit at Cape Palmas, and sing his ditty of the “African steeples” about among king Joe Harris' people. They would admire his tall presence and his fine head, as the Cossacks did Murat on his black charger. No. The Secretary loves —  “society,” that has got more “frame-work” in it. The dragon take Liberia, for all his going there! It is a grand country for “free niggers;” but the Secretary belongs to another race.

“The Boston merchant sends off his son,” &c. Whoever heard of such a sending off? Would the weeping father, as the vessel, with his dear boy on board, was clearing the harbor and standing out into the wide sea, tell the disconsolate mother and the brothers and sisters — all in tears — “I've sent off Charles?” Sent him off! for shame, Secretary! If you had instanced a Boston merchant, who had a poor, miserable, profligate, drunken, prodigal son, that had exhausted his paternal nature, and forged his name to checks — whom he did not wish to see hanged at home, for the disgrace it would bring on the family, and he had shipped him aboard a man-of-war for the Mediterranean — or a whaler for a three years' chance among the storms of the cape, and the grampuses of the arctic circle, peradventure to come back, and peradverture not, then you might talk of a father's sending his son off. But that comes too near colonizing, for the Secretary's purpose, — only he wants to ship the innocent — the blameless — the unoffending — guilty of nothing but want of the roseate hue of the beauteous, Absalom-looking Secretary.

“We send off missionaries,” &c. Only to Liberia, Secretary. We send out to every other quarter. Note this peculiarity, reader, in our American efforts to evangelize the world. We send out white, educated, college-learned, beneficiary, Andover-finished theologians to those people we have never enslaved; and to our old human hunting-ground we send off  “abated nuisances,” called “free niggers,” — sent off “with their own consent.”  (“He ’ticed him out of the field,” says the witness; “’ticed him clear out.” How did he ’tice him? said the court. “O, he 'ticed him with a pitchfork.’”) We had the curiosity to look, in this very number of the Secretary's “Statesman,” to see what he called the sending of missionaries. He has a deal to say about love to the heathen. We lit upon “Missions to Liberia,” the first thing almost. It is not the Secretary's own, but his faithful Achates, R. McDowell's. He gives us the very technical phrase for missionary sending; but there is no off to it. “The first mission, established in Liberia,” says McD., “was the Swiss mission, &c., sent out by Rev. Dr. Bleinhardt,” &c.

Don't talk of sending off sons and missionaries, any more, Mr. Secretary. It is too “specious.”

The Secretary says, we “ludicrously kill our argument before we get down our column.” What is our argument? That sending off our free colored people, to rid the country of them, is proof of hatred towards them. How do we kill it? Why, by saying it won't hurt a slave to send him away. Commend us to such killing. “What is sauce for the goose, may be for the” Secretary; but it don't follow, that what is bad for the freeman, would be bad for the slave. Would it be good for the freeman of America to be sent to Algiers? We say it would not hurt the slave to be sent there. He would rejoice to get there, and we should rejoice to have him, if we can't free him here,—even to Liberia—rather than stay within influence of such teachers of humanity as McDufie and Gurley.

The Secretary's mention of our proposal to colonize the slaves in Canada, as a serious proposal, is so roguishly “specious,” that we can't answer it. — The charge of “insanity,” abolitionists are used to. The Secretary will be glad to be so, by and by, when we get slavery down in this country. The cry from the West Indies makes him look wild. He will exclaim, by another year or two, when Congress, with old John Quincy Adams at their head, and Alvan Stewart and Wendell Phillips and Vermont Knapp to back him up, declare slavery down in the capital and the' district — he will then cry out, as Atlialiah did, when she “heard the noise of the guard, the clapping of hands, and the God save king Joash.” He will be stark crazy then, — if he does not repent — which we hope he may.

SOURCE: Collection from the Miscellaneous Writings of Nathaniel Peabody Rogers, Second Edition, p. 21-5 which states it was published in the Herald of Freedom of September 8, 1838.

Nathaniel Peabody Rogers: The Discussion, July 14, 1838

The discussion goes on. It pervades, it possesses, it “agitates” the land. It must be stopped, or slavery dies, and the colored man has his liberty and his rights, and Colonization is superseded. Can it not be stopped? Cannot the doctors, the editors, the “property and standing,” the legislatures, congress, the mob, Mr. Gurley, somebody or other, some power or other, the governors, his honor the Chief Justice Lynch; cannot any body, or every body united, put down this discussion? Alas for the “peculiar institution!” it cannot be done. The club of Hercules could not strike it down; it is as impalpable to the brute blow as the stately ghost of “buried Denmark” was to the “partisan” of Marcellus. It cannot be stopped or checked. It is unrestrainable as the viewless winds, or the steeds of Apollo. You hear it every where. The atmosphere is rife with it. “Abolition,” “immediate,” “compensation,” “amalgamation,” “inferior,” “equal;” “inalienable,” “rights,” “the Bible,” “of one blood,” “West Indies,” “mobs,” “arson,” “petition,” “gag-law,” “John Quincy Adams,” “Garrison.” These are the words, and as familiar as household phrase. The air resounds to the universal agitation. Truth and conviction every where result, — the Genius of Emancipation moves triumphantly among the half-awakened people. And Slavery, aghast at the general outcry and the fatal discoveries constantly making of its diabolical enormities, gathers up its all for retreat or desperate death, as the case shall demand. The discussion can't be smothered — can't be checked — can't be abated — can't be endured by pro-slavery. The fiat has gone forth. It is registered in heaven. The colored man's humanity is ascertained and proved, and henceforth he is destined to liberty and honor. God is gathering his instrumentalities to purify this Ration. War, Slavery and Drunkenness are to be purged away from it. The drunkard, that wont reform, will be removed from the earth's surface, and his corporeal shame hidden in her friendly recesses, — his spiritual “shame,” alas, to be “everlasting” — with that unutterable “contempt” which must attend final impenitence, as saith God. Those persisting in the brute practice of what is styled military, which is nothing more or less than human tigerism — rational brutality — hatred dressed up in regimentals — malignity cockaded, — and “all uncharitableness” plumed and knapsacked, — homicide under pay, and murder per order, all who persist in this beastly and bloody mania, and refuse to join the standard of universal non-resistance peace-^will perish by the sword, or by some untimely touch of the Almighty, — for Christ hath said, “All they who take the sword shall perish with the sword;” and the period of accomplishment of his work on this little globe is at hand. Let the warrior of the land take warning. “A prudent man foreseeth,” &c. And slaveholders, pilferers of humanity! those light-fingered ones, who “take without liberty” the very glory and essence of a man, — who put out that light which dazzles the eye of the sun, and would burn on, but for this extinction, when the moon hath undergone her final waning, — those traffickers in immortality, who sell a Man “for a pair of shoes;” those hope-extinguishers, heart-crushers, home-quenchers, family-dissolvers, tie-sunderers; — oh, for a vocabulary — new, copious and original, of awful significancy and expression — that should avail us to shadow forth faintly to the apprehensions of mankind, the unutterable character of this new “ill,” that hath befallen inheriting “flesh;” an “ill” that “flesh” by nature was not “heir to;” — oh, those man, woman and child-thieves, — those unnatural, ultra and extra cannibals, who devour their own flesh; whose carniverous monstrosity is not limited to the blood and flesh of the stranger, — whose voracity invades the forbidden degrees, and eats its near relations within the matrimonial prohibitions, — son-eaters and daughter-consumers — who grow children to sell, and put into their coffers, to buy bread withal, the price of their own-begotten offspring; thus eating “themselves a third time,” as Pope says, “in their race” — “the cubless tigress in her jungle raging” is humanity and sympathy, compared to them: she “rages” when the hunter hath borne off her bruised young, and given her savage bosom the pang of maternal bereavement. She would waste her mighty nature to a shadow, and her strong frame to a skeleton, ere she would appease her hunger by profaning the flesh of her own cubs! Slaveholders! American slaveholders, republican slaveholders, liberty slaveholders, Christianity slaveholders, church-member slaveholders, minister slaveholders, doctor of divinity slaveholders, church slaveholders, missionary slaveholders, “Board of Commissioner” slaveholders, monthly concert slaveholders, Bible Society slaveholders, and Bible Withholders! What will the coming millennium say to you, or do with you? What disposition will it make of you and your system, should it burst upon you when it is in the full tide of experiment! the land smoking with it! Will not the glorious morn and opening dawn of Christ's kingdom prove flaming fire to devour you from the face of the earth? The millennial day pouring in its living light upon scenes, whose enormity shrouds the natural sun, what will become of the actors in these scenes? O for the warning voice that once affrighted Nineveh, and clad her nation in sackcloth, from the king on the throne to the beggar on the dunghill; that laid a people in ashes! But it may not be. Another fate, we fear, attends this last of republics. Warning is esteemed as mockery, and admonition as frenzy.

Shall we hold our peace amid scenes like these? Shall we argue and persuade, be courteous, convince, induce, and all that? No — we shall attempt no such thing, for the simple reason that such things are entirely uncalled for, useless, foolish, inadequate.

Argue with slavery, or argue about it; argue about a sinking ship, or a drowning man, or a burning dwelling! Convince a sleeping family, when the staircase and roof are falling in, and the atmosphere is loaded to suffocation with smoke! “Address the understanding,” and “soothe the prejudices,” when you see a man walking down the roof in his sleep, on a three-story house! Bandy compliments and arguments with the somnambulist, on “Table Rock,” when all the waters of lake Superior are thundering in the great Horse Shoe, and deafening the very war of the elements! Would you not shout to him with a clap of thunder through a speaking trumpet — if you could command it — if possible to reach his senses in his appalling extremity? Did Jonah argufy with the city of Nineveh, — “Yet forty days,” cried the vagabond prophet, “and Nineveh shall be overthrown!” That was his salutation. And did the “property and standing” turn up their noses at him, and set the mob on to him? Did the clergy discountenance him, and call him extravagant, misguided, a divider of churches, a disturber of parishes? What would have become of that city, if they had done this? Did they “approve his principles,” but dislike his “measures” and his “spirit?”

Slavery must be cried down, denounced down, ridiculed down, and pro-slavery with it, or rather before it. Slavery will go when pro-slavery starts. The sheep will follow, when the bell-wether leads. Down then with the bloody system! out of the land with it, and out of the world with it — into the Red sea with it! Men shan't be enslaved in this country any longer. Women and children shan't be flogged here any longer. If you undertake to hinder us, the worst is your own. The press is ours. Demolish it, if you please, — muzzle it, you shall never. Shoot down the Lovejoys you can; and if your skirts are not red enough with his blood, dye them deeper with other murders. You can do it with entire impunity. You can get the dead indicted and tried along with you, and the jury will find you all not guilty together; and “public sentiment” will back you up, and say you had ample provocation. To be sure, you will not escape the vengeance of Heaven; but who cares for that, in a free and christian country? You will come to an untimely end; — but that, you know, is nothing to a “judicious,” “well-regulated,” “christian spirit!” But this is all fanaticism. Wait and see.

SOURCE: Collection from the Miscellaneous Writings of Nathaniel Peabody Rogers, Second Edition, p. 5-9 which states it was published in the Herald of Freedom of July 14, 1838.

Thomas Wentworth Higginson to Louisa Storrow Higginson, 1857

Dearest Mother:

I thought, when waiting for admission to President Quincy's study, that there was really nobody living, except the veteran Humboldt, before whom I should feel so much awe, as in the presence of this ancient Doge. But when finally admitted, the impression of old college times was so strong that I felt an immediate expectation of an English oration or a little good advice. The latter came in the form of his views on Disunion, which he had evidently thought over pretty thoroughly, and stated with the utmost heartiness and even vehemence. He spoke just as he used to do, with occasional pauses for a word, though not often; and with singular vigor and emphasis.

He expressed no sort of fear of Disunion; he was “perfectly willing to look over into this dark chasm which yawns in the midst of the Republic”; and as for fear of saying what he thought, “old age had made him courageous” (an unusual effect of old age, I thought). . . . He thinks that the Union may be dissolved; but that this is more likely to occur from the mere size and weight of our future nation, than from the hostilities arising from slavery, though, he says, this last “would no doubt be by far the most glorious cause of a separation.” He said some very weighty things about the general position and character of the nation, the necessity of discussing first principles, and the wrong done by any distrust of agitation. “Our fathers built our nest upon the waves, and we must not shudder at its rocking motion”; and then he quoted Fisher Ames, that our nation was not a “ship of state,” but a raft; safer, indeed, but one's feet were always in the water.

. . . He described his position very quietly, without egotism; said he felt no sensation of old age, except sometimes in walking; could work in his study from 9 A.M. to 9 P.M. without fatigue. “I am a miracle to myself,” he said. Then he told me of the memoir of J. Q. Adams on which he is now engaged and which will be out in a few weeks. “Then,” said he, with a sort of roguish pause, “I am going to school” I smiled interrogatively, and his face lit up with a perfectly boyish smile of triumph. “Yes,” said he, “to school — all existence is a school, and I hope to keep on learning here, till I pass to a higher one.” I said, to draw him out, that after this I supposed he had no new literary plans. “Ah, I won't say that!” he quickly answered with the same gleeful smile, and afterwards quietly said that he had “one or two “ projects of that kind, which would require a great deal of preliminary preparation and on that he was about to enter! Thus tranquilly does this man of eighty-six plan his life from month to month.

SOURCE: Mary Potter Thacher Higginson, Editor, Letters and Journals of Thomas Wentworth Higginson, 1846-1906, p. 88-90

Senator Thomas Hart Benton to Congressman John Scott, February 8, 1825

Senate Chamber, Feb. 8th, 1825.

SIR: I received on the morning of the 6th instant your note of the 5th, in which you make known to me your intention to give the vote of Missouri to Mr. Adams.

Sinister rumors, and some misgivings of my own, had been preparing my mind for an extraordinary development; but it was not until I had three times talked with you, face to face, that I could believe in the reality of an intention so inconsistent with your previous conversations, so repugnant to your printed pledges, so amazing to your constituents, so fatal to yourself.

The vote which you intend thus to give is not your own — it belongs to the people of the State of Missouri. They are against Mr. Adams. I, in their name, do solemnly protest against your intention, and deny your moral power thus to bestow your vote.

You have been pleased to make a reference, in one of your conversations, to my personal wishes in this election. I now reiterate that I disdain and repel the appeal; and again remit you to the exalted tribunal of honor and duty.

For nine years we have been closely connected in our political course; at length, the connection is dissolved, and dissolved under circumstances which denounce our everlasting separation.

For some expressions which you felt as unkind, in our conversation on Sunday, I ask your pardon and oblivion. I have a right to give you my opinion on a point of public duty, but none to inflict a wound on your feelings, and, in this unexpected breaking of many ties, there is enough of unavoidable pain, without the gratuitous infliction of unkind words.

To-morrow is the day for your self-immolation. If you have an enemy, he may go and feed his eyes upon the scene; your former friend will share the afflicting spectacle.

With sincere wishes for your personal welfare, I remain,* &c.,

Thomas H. Benton.

_______________

* These letters and my account of the election in the main are from Parton's Jackson, iii., pp. 61-66.

SOURCE: William Montgomery Meigs, The Life of Thomas Hart Benton, p. 145

Thomas Hart Benton to Colonel James Patton Preston, December 22, 1821

Senate Chamber, Dec. 22nd, 1822.

Dear Sir:

We arrived here on the 9th ins. myself, Elizabeth and the child. We are very well, but had a narrow escape on the road, the carriage being overturned, and pitched with violence on its broad side down a rocky hill. Happily no one was hurt but myself. I got a cut of four inches on the head which is not yet well.

The President enquired very kindly after you, and expressed great apprehension for your health in your new situation, and was fully satisfied at your not going to Pensacola last summer, as it would have been a risk to your life, without benefit to the public.

Messrs. Crawford, Clay and Adams are the persons chiefly spoken of here for the Presidency, and of these three, the two former are deemed to have the best chance by all with whom I converse.

Nothing of any moment is yet done here.

Yours most truly & sincerely,

Thomas H. Benton.

Col. James P. Preston.

SOURCE: William Montgomery Meigs, The Life of Thomas Hart Benton, p. 130-1

Horace Mann: Letter Accepting the Nomination for the Thirtieth Congress, Made by the Whig Convention of the 8th District of Massachusetts, March 21, 1848.

Gentlemen;

Your communication of the 16th inst., being directed to Newton, (instead of West Newton, where I reside,) did not reach me until this morning. I thank you cordially for the kind expressions of personal regard with which you have been pleased to accompany it. You inform me that at a convention of delegates assembled in Dedham, on Wednesday, the 15th inst., I was nominated as a candidate to fill the vacancy in Congress occasioned by the death of the great and good man whose irreparable loss we, his constituents, with a nation for our fellow-mourners, deplore.

At first thought, the idea of being the immediate successor of John Quincy Adams in the councils of the nation might well cause any man to shrink back from the inevitable contrast. But it is obvious, on a moment's reflection, that the difference is so trivial between all the men whom he has left, compared with the disparity between them and him, as to render it of little consequence, in this respect, who shall succeed him; and the people in the Eighth District, in their descent from Mr. Adams to any successor, must break and bear the shock of the fall, as best they can.

I most heartily concur with you in that estimate of the services, and veneration for the character, of our late representative, which your resolutions so eloquently express. To be fired by his example, to imitate his diligence and fidelity in the discharge of every trust, to emulate his moral intrepidity, which always preferred to stand alone by the right, rather than to join the retinue and receive the plaudits of millions, as a champion of the wrong, — this would be, in the beautiful language of the Roman historian, “to ascend to glory by the path of virtue.”

One of the resolutions adopted by your convention declares the three following things: —

1. That the successor of Mr. Adams, on the floor of Congress, should be a man “whose principles shall be in consonance with those of his predecessor.”

2. That his fidelity to the great principles of human freedom shall be unwavering. And, —

3. That his “voice and vote shall on all occasions be exercised in extending and securing liberty to the human race.”

Permit me to reaffirm these sentiments with my whole heart. Should the responsibilities of that successorship ever be devolved upon me, I shall endeavor so to fulfil them, that these dead words should become a living soul. I should deem it not only an object of duty, but of the highest ambition, to contend for the noble principles you have here expressed, as Mr. Adams contended for them; though, unhappily, it would be only as a David in Saul's armor. Bear with me for a moment while I enlarge upon these sentiments.

1. “In consonance with his principles.” — I believe it was the sovereign rule of Mr. Adams's life to act in obedience to his convictions of duty. Truth was his guide. His conscience was non-elastic. He did not strain at a gnat before company, on account of its size, and then, privately, swallow a camel. His patriotism was coextensive with his country; it could not be crushed and squeezed in between party lines. Though liable to err, — and what human being is not? — yet his principles were believed by him to be in accordance with the great moral laws of the universe. They were thought out from duty and religion, and not carved out of expediency. When invested with patronage, he never dismissed a man from office because he was a political opponent, and never appointed one to office merely because he was a political friend. Hence he drew from Mr. Holmes, of South Carolina, this noble eulogium, — a eulogium, considering the part of the country from which it came, as honorable to its author as to its object, — that “he crushed no heart beneath the rude grasp of proscription; he left no heritage of widows' cries or orphans' tears.” Could all the honors which Mr. Adams ever won from offices held under the first five Presidents of the United States, and from a public service, which, commencing more than fifty years ago, continued to the day of his death, be concentrated in one effulgent blaze, they would be less far-shining and inextinguishable than the honor of sacrificing his election for a second presidential term, because he would not, in order to obtain it, prostitute the patronage and power which the constitution had placed in his hands. I regard this as the sublimest spectacle in his long and varied career. He stood within reach of an object of ambition doubtless dearer to him than life. He could have laid his hands upon it. The “still, small voice” said, No! Without a murmur, he saw it taken and borne away in triumph by another. Compared with this, the block of many a martyr has been an easy resting-place.

2. “Unwavering fidelity to the great principles of human freedom.”—The Declaration of American Independence, in 1776, was the first complete assertion of human rights, on an extensive scale, ever made by mankind. Less than three quarters of a century have elapsed, and already the greatest portion of the civilized world has felt the influence of that Declaration. France, for years, has had a constitutional monarchy; perhaps, to-day, her government is republican. Holland and Belgium are comparatively free. Almost all the states of the Germanic Confederation have a written constitution, and a legislature with a popular branch. Prussia has lately commenced a representative system. The iron rule of Austria is relaxed under the fervent heat which liberty reflects from surrounding nations. Naples and Sicily have just burst the bonds of tyranny. In Rome and the States of the Church, where, under the influence of religious and political despotism, the heart of Freedom was supposed to be petrified into insoluble hardness, that heart is now beginning to pulsate with a new life, and to throb with sympathy for humanity. Great Britain and Denmark have emancipated their slaves in the West Indies. Measures are now in progress to ameliorate the condition of Russian serfs. Even half-barbarous, Mahometan Tunis has yielded to the tide of free principles. To what bar of judgment will our own posterity bring us, what doom of infamy will history pronounce upon us, if the United States shall hereafter be found the only portion of Christendom where the principles of our own Declaration of Independence are violated in the persons of millions of our people?

3. “The exercise, on all occasions, of voice and vote, in extending and securing liberty to the human race.” — There is a crisis in our affairs. A territory, in extent far exceeding that of the thirteen original states, when they repelled the power of Great Britain, has lately been added, or is, doubtless, about to be added, to our national domain. The expanse of this territory is so vast, that it may be divided into a dozen sections, and these sections may be erected into separate states, each one of which shall be so large that Massachusetts would seem but an inconsiderable court-yard, if placed in front of it. Parts of this territory are fertile and salubrious. It is capable of supporting millions and millions of human beings, of the same generation. The numbers of the successive generations, which in the providence of God are to inhabit it, will be as the leaves of the forest, or the sands on the sea-shore. Each one of these is to be a living soul, with its joys and sorrows, its hopes and fears, its susceptibilities of exaltation or of abasement. Each one will be capable of being formed into the image of God, or of being deformed into the image of all that is anti-godlike.

These countless millions are to be our kindred; many of them, perhaps, our own descendants; at any rate, our brethren of the human family; for has not God “made of one blood all nations of men to dwell upon all the face of the earth”? In rights, in character, in happiness; in freedom or in vassalage; in the glorious immunities and prerogatives of knowledge, or in the debasement and superstitions of ignorance; in their upward-looking aspiration and love of moral excellence, or in their downward-looking, prone-rushing, and brutish appetites and passions, what shall these millions of our fellow-creatures be? I put it as a practical question, What shall these millions of our fellow-creatures be? — for it is more than probable that this very generation, — nay, that the actors in public affairs, before the sands of the present year shall have run out, — will prescribe and foreordain their doom. That doom will be what our present conduct predestines.

If we enact laws and establish institutions, under whose benign influences that vast tract of territory shall at length teem with myriads of human beings, each one a free-born man; each one enjoying the inalienable right of “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness;” each one free for the cultivation of his capacities, and free in the choice and in the rewards of his labor; —if we do this, although the grand results may not manifest themselves for a thousand years, yet when the fulness of time shall come, the equity and the honor of framing these laws and institutions will belong to us, as much as though the glorious consummation could be realized to-morrow. On the other hand, if we so shape the mould in which their fortunes are to be cast, that, for them or for any portion of them, there shall be servitude instead of liberty, ignorance instead of education, debasement instead of dignity, the indulgence of bestial appetites instead of the sanctities and securities of domestic life, — then, until the mountains shall crumble away by age, until the arches of the skies shall fall in rottenness, these mountains and these arches will never cease to echo back the execrations upon our memory of all the great and good men of the world. And this retribution, I believe, will come suddenly, as well as last forever.

In one of the South-western States a vast subterranean cave has been discovered, deep down in whose chambers there is a pool of water, on which no beam of sunlight ever shines. A sightless fish is said to inhabit this rayless pool. In this animal, indeed, the rudiments of a visual organ are supposed to be dimly discernible; but of an orb to refract the rays of light, or of a retina to receive them, there is no trace. Naturalists suppose that the progenitors of these animals, in ages long gone by, possessed the power of vision; but that, being buried in these depths by some convulsion of nature, long disuse at first impaired, at length extinguished, and has at last obliterated the visual organ itself. The animal has sunk in the scale of being, until its senses are accommodated to the blackness of darkness in which it dwells. Were this account wholly fabulous, it has the strongest verisimilitude, and doubtless describes what would actually occur under the circumstances supposed.

Thus will it be with faculties above the surface of the earth, as well as below it. Thus will it be with human beings, as well as with the lower orders of creation. Thus will it be with our own brethren or children, should we shut up from them the book of knowledge, or seal their senses so that they could not read it. Thus will it be with all our God-given faculties, just so far as they are debarred from legitimate exercise upon their appropriate objects. The love of knowledge will die out, when it ceases to be stimulated by the means of knowledge. Self-respect will die out, under the ever-present sense of inferiority. The sentiments of truth and duty will die out, when cunning and falsehood can obtain more gratifications than frankness and honesty. The noblest impulses of the human soul, the most sacred affections of the human heart, will die out, when every sphere is closed against their exercise. When such a dreadful work is doing, or threatens to be done, can any one stand listlessly by, see it perpetrated, and then expect to excuse himself, under the false, impious pretext of Cain, “Am I my brother's keeper?”

Fully, then, do I agree with you and the delegates of the convention you represent, in saying that the successor of Mr. Adams should be one “whose voice and vote shall, on all occasions, be exercised in extending and securing liberty to the human race.” Of course I do not understand you to imply any violation of the constitution of the United States, which every representative swears to support.

Permit me to say a word personal to myself. For eleven years, I have been estranged from all political excitements. During this whole period, I have attended no political meeting of any kind whatever. I have contented myself with the right of private judgment and the right of voting, though it has usually so happened that my official duties have demanded my absence from home at the time of the fall elections. I have deemed this abstinence from actively mingling in political contests both a matter of duty towards opposing political parties, and a proper means of subserving the best interests of the cause in which I had embarked. I hoped too, by so doing, to assist in rearing men even better than those now belonging to any party.

The nature of my duties also, and all my intercourse and associations, have attracted me towards whatever is worthy and beneficent in all parties, rather than towards what is peculiar to any one. Not believing in political pledges, I should have had the honor to decline giving any to you, had you not had the first and greater honor of asking none from me. After what I have said above in favor of liberty for all mankind, it would be a strange contradiction did I consent to be myself a slave of party. The hands which you raised in behalf of yourselves and your constituents, when you voted for the noble sentiments contained in the resolution I have quoted, could never degrade themselves by forging a fetter for the free mind of another, or fastening one upon it; and the hand with which I have penned my hearty response to those sentiments can never stretch itself out to take a fetter on. Should your nomination, therefore, be accepted and be successful, it must be with the explicit understanding between us that I shall always be open to receive the advice of my constituents, shall always welcome their counsel, always be most grateful for their suggestions, but that, in the last resort, my own sense of duty must be the only arbiter. Should differences arise, the law opens an honorable escape for both parties, — declination on my part, substitution on yours.

I must add, in closing, that so far as personal preferences are concerned, I infinitely prefer remaining in my present position, with all its labor and its thanklessness, to any office in the gift of the people. I had hoped and intended, either in a public or private capacity, to spend my life in advancing the great cause of the people's education. Two considerations alone could tempt me to abandon this purpose. The first is important. The enactment of laws which shall cover waste territory, to be applied to the myriads of human beings who are hereafter to occupy that territory, is a work which seems to precede and outrank even education itself. Whether a wide expanse of country shall be filled with beings to whom education is permitted, or with those to whom it is denied, — with those whom humanity and the law make it a duty to teach, or with those whom inhumanity and the law make it a legal duty not to teach, seems preliminary to all questions respecting the best systems and methods for rendering education effective.

The other consideration is comparatively unimportant; though, for the time being, it has embarrassed me greatly. I now learn that expectations were excited at your convention, that if a nomination were tendered me, it would not be declined. Had I anticipated the favorable regards of the convention, or foreseen that such expectations would be raised, I should not have hearkened to the proposition for a moment; and I may be permitted to add, that when I saw my name announced in the papers, my first act was to prepare a letter of declination. It was only when I went to deliver the letter that I learnt what had been done, and that, in the opinion of persons whose judgment I am bound to respect, I had been so far committed by my too partial friends, as that no option remained.

Yielding to these considerations, I submit myself to the decision of my fellow-citizens.

With sentiments of high personal regard,

I am, gentlemen,

Your friend and servant,

HORACE MANN.

Hon. Thomas French, President; Samuel C. Mann, John K. Coebett, Edward Crehore, Esqs., Secretaries.

West Newton, March 21, 1848.

SOURCE: Horace Mann, Slavery: Letters and Speeches, p. 1-9 

In The Review Queue: Lincoln and the Abolitionists

Lincoln and the Abolitionists:

John Quincy Adams, Slavery,

and the Civil War

by Fred Kaplan

The acclaimed biographer, with a thought-provoking exploration of how Abraham Lincoln’s and John Quincy Adams’ experiences with slavery and race shaped their differing viewpoints, provides both perceptive insights into these two great presidents and a revealing perspective on race relations in modern America.

Lincoln, who in afterlife became mythologized as the Great Emancipator, was shaped by the values of the white America into which he was born. While he viewed slavery as a moral crime abhorrent to American principles, he disapproved of anti-slavery activists. Until the last year of his life, he advocated "voluntary deportation," concerned that free blacks in a white society would result in centuries of conflict. In 1861, he had reluctantly taken the nation to war to save it. While this devastating struggle would preserve the Union, it would also abolish slavery—creating the biracial democracy Lincoln feared. John Quincy Adams, forty years earlier, was convinced that only a civil war would end slavery and preserve the Union. An antislavery activist, he had concluded that a multiracial America was inevitable.

Lincoln and the Abolitionists, a frank look at Lincoln, "warts and all," provides an in-depth look at how these two presidents came to see the issues of slavery and race, and how that understanding shaped their perspectives. In a far-reaching historical narrative, Fred Kaplan offers a nuanced appreciation of both these great men and the events that have characterized race relations in America for more than a century—a legacy that continues to haunt us all.

The book has a colorful supporting cast from the relatively obscure Dorcas Allen, Moses Parsons, Violet Parsons, Theophilus Parsons, Phoebe Adams, John King, Charles Fenton Mercer, Phillip Doddridge, David Walker, Usher F. Linder, and H. Ford Douglas to Elijah Lovejoy, Francis Scott Key, William Channing, Wendell Phillips, and Rufus King. The cast includes Hannibal Hamlin, Lincoln’s first vice president, and James Buchanan and Andrew Johnson, the two presidents on either side of Lincoln. And it includes Abigail Adams, John Adams, Henry Clay, Stephen A. Douglas, and Frederick Douglass, who hold honored places in the American historical memory.

The subject of this book is slavery and racism, the paradox of Lincoln, our greatest president, as an antislavery moralist who believed in an exclusively white America; and Adams, our most brilliant statesman, as an antislavery activist who had no doubt that the United States would become a multiracial nation. It is as much about the present as the past.

About the Author

Fred Kaplan is Distinguished Professor Emeritus of English at Queens College and the Graduate Center of the City University of New York. He is the author of Lincoln: The Biography of a Writer, which was named a Best Book of the Year by the New York Times and Washington Post, among other publications. His biography of Thomas Carlyle was a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award and the Pulitzer Prize. He lives in Maine.

ISBN 978-0062440006, Harper, © 2017, Hardcover, 416 pages, Photographs & Illustrations, End Notes & Index. $28.99.  To purchase a copy of this book click HERE.

Diary of Gideon Welles: Thursday, March 5, 1863

Went on the evening of the 3d inst. to the Capitol. Spent most of the time until eleven o'clock in the President's room. It is my first visit to the Capitol since the session commenced. Was for half an hour on the floor of the House. Thirty-four years ago spent the night of the 3d of March on the floor of the Representatives' Chamber. It was in the old Representatives’ Hall. Andrew Stevenson was Speaker. I first saw Henry Clay that night. He came from the President's room to the House about ten. It was to him the scene of old triumphs, and friends crowded around him.

I subsequently went into the Senate Chamber, a much larger but less pleasant room than the old one, which I first visited in the last days of the second Adams. If the present room is larger, the Senators seemed smaller. My first impressions were doubtless more reverential than those of later times.

The deportment of the Members in both houses was calm and in favorable contrast with what I have ever seen of the closing hours of any session, and I have witnessed many. There was nothing boisterous, and but little that was factious. It was nearly midnight when we left. On the morning of the 4th I was at the Capitol, from ten till twelve. All passed off harmoniously.

The recent dispatches of Consul Morse at London, and information from other sources, render it necessary measures should be taken to prevent the Rebels from getting a considerable naval force afloat.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 244-5

Diary of John Hay: October 12, 1861

To-night the President went to Seward's, I with him. At the door a telegram was handed him from McClellan stating that the enemy was before him in force and would probably attack in the morning. “If they attack,” he added, “I shall beat them.” We went to Seward’s and talked of many things. Seward spoke of Lander’s restlessness and griefs at inaction; his offered resignation, and resolve to go West and begin again, — that watching the Potomac was not congenial, and other such. Gen. Scott was already fixing his orders for exactly the work he wanted to do.

Col. Scott came in with despatches from McCl., ordering Hooker’s Bladensburg Brigade in — one countermanding and one reaffirming. Scott then went out to order transportation for 6,000.

G. V. Fox came in and began to talk about the great expedition that is fitting at Annapolis. He wants, when they have sailed, to have 14,000 more men detached from the Army of the Potomac to be held in readiness awaiting the result of the expedition. If it causes a retreat of the rebels, then this additional force can be easily spared. The fleet will probably sail on Tuesday, and will have some work to do at Fernandina, Pensacola, Mobile. Gen'l Scott told Fox that 3,500 men would be enough to take Mobile, assisted by their ships. Fox himself seemed very confident that the expedition would succeed. His only nervousness was in relation to submarine batteries which modern science has rendered very destructive and entirely feasible.

Seward spoke also of Motley’s despatch which seems to contain a most cheering account of honest sympathy existing in the best class of English society towards us. Motley’s letter embraced free and cordial conversations with Earl Russell, Earl Grey, Cobden, Mr. Layard, Prince Albert and the Queen.

There was much talk of Daniel Webster, in which the financial sansouciism of the great man was strikingly prominent. Seward thought he would not live, nor Clay, a tithe as long as J. Q. Adams. The President disagreed with him, and thought Webster will be read forever.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 42-4; Tyler Dennett, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and Letters of John Hay, p. 27-8.

Diary of Gideon Welles: Saturday, December 20, 1862

At the meeting last evening there were present of the committee Senators Collamer, Fessenden, Harris, Trumbull, Grimes, Howard, Sumner, and Pomeroy. Wade was absent. The President and all the Cabinet but Seward were present. The subject was opened by the President, who read the resolutions and stated the substance of his interviews with the committee, — their object and purpose. He spoke of the unity of his Cabinet, and how, though they could not be expected to think and speak alike on all subjects, all had acquiesced in measures when once decided. The necessities of the times, he said, had prevented frequent and long sessions of the Cabinet, and the submission of every question at the meetings.

Secretary Chase indorsed the President's statement fully and entirely, but regretted that there was not a more full and thorough consideration and canvass of every important measure in open Cabinet.

Senator Collamer, the chairman of the committee, succeeded the President and calmly and fairly presented the views of the committee and of those whom they represented. They wanted united counsels, combined wisdom, and energetic action. If there is truth in the maxim that in a multitude of counselors there is safety, it might be well that those advisers who were near the President and selected by him, and all of whom were more or less responsible, should be consulted on the great questions which affected the national welfare, and that the ear of the Executive should be open to all and that he should have the minds of all.

Senator Fessenden was skillful but a little tart; felt, it could be seen, more than he cared to say; wanted the whole Cabinet to consider and decide great questions, and that no one in particular should absorb and direct the whole Executive action. Spoke of a remark which he had heard from J. Q. Adams on the floor of Congress in regard to a measure of his administration. Mr. Adams said the measure was adopted against his wishes and opinion, but he was outvoted by Mr. Clay and others. He wished an administration so conducted.

Grimes, Sumner, and Trumbull were pointed, emphatic, and unequivocal in their opposition to Mr. Seward, whose zeal and sincerity in this conflict they doubted; each was unrelenting and unforgiving.

Blair spoke earnestly and well. Sustained the President, and dissented most decidedly from the idea of a plural Executive; claimed that the President was accountable for his administration, might ask opinions or not of either and as many as he pleased, of all or none, of his Cabinet. Mr. Bates took much the same view.

The President managed his own case, speaking freely, and showed great tact, shrewdness, and ability, provided such a subject were a proper one for such a meeting and discussion. I have no doubt he considered it most judicious to conciliate the Senators with respectful deference, whatever may have been his opinion of their interference. When he closed his remarks, he said it would be a gratification to him if each member of the committee would state whether he now thought it advisable to dismiss Mr. Seward, and whether his exclusion would strengthen or weaken the Administration and the Union cause in their respective States. Grimes, Trumbull, and Sumner, who had expressed themselves decidedly against the continuance of Mr. Seward in the Cabinet, indicated no change of opinion. Collamer and Fessenden declined committing themselves on the subject; had in their action the welfare of the whole country in view; were not prepared to answer the questions. Senator Harris felt it a duty to say that while many of the friends of the Administration would be gratified, others would feel deeply wounded, and the effect of Mr. Seward's retirement would, on the whole, be calamitous in the State of New York. Pomeroy of Kansas said, personally, he believed the withdrawal of Mr. Seward would be a good movement and he sincerely wished it might take place. Howard of Michigan declined answering the question.

During the discussion, the volume of diplomatic correspondence, recently published, was alluded to; some letters denounced as unwise and impolitic were specified, one of which, a confidential dispatch to Mr. Adams, was read. If it was unwise to write, it was certainly injudicious and indiscreet to publish such a document. Mr. Seward has genius and talent, — no one better knows it than himself, — but for one in his place he is often wanting in careful discrimination, true wisdom, sound judgment, and discreet statesmanship. The committee believe he thinks more of the glorification of Seward than the welfare of the country. He wishes the glorification of both, and believes he is the man to accomplish it, but has unwittingly and unwarily begotten and brought upon himself a vast amount of distrust and hostility on the part of Senators, by his endeavors to impress them and others with the belief that he is the Administration. It is a mistake; the Senators dislike it, — have measured and know him.

It was nearly midnight when we left the President; and it could not be otherwise than that all my wakeful moments should be absorbed with a subject which, time and circumstances considered, was of grave importance to the Administration and the country. A Senatorial combination to dictate to the President in regard to his political family in the height of a civil war which threatens the existence of the Republic cannot be permitted to succeed, even if the person to whom they object were as obnoxious as they represent; but Seward's foibles are not serious failings. After fully canvassing the subject in all its phases, my mind was clear as to the course which it was my duty to pursue, and what I believed was the President's duty also.

My first movement this morning was to call on the President as soon as I supposed he could have breakfasted. Governor Robertson of Kentucky was with him when I went in, but soon left. I informed the President I had pondered the events of yesterday and last evening, and felt it incumbent on me to advise him not to accept the resignation of Mr. Seward; that if there were objections, real or imaginary, against Mr. Seward, the time, manner, and circumstances — the occasion, and the method of presenting what the Senators considered objections — were all inappropriate and wrong; that no party or faction should be permitted to dictate to the President in regard to his Cabinet; that it would be of evil example and fraught with incalculable injury to the Government and country; that neither the legislative department, nor the Senate branch of it, should be allowed to encroach on the Executive prerogatives and rights; that it devolved on him — and was his duty to assert and maintain the rights and independence of the Executive; that he ought not, against his own convictions, to yield one iota of the authority intrusted to him on the demand of either branch of Congress or of both combined, or to any party, whatever might be its views and intentions; that Mr. Seward had his infirmities and errors, but they were venial; that he and I differed on many things, as did other members of the Cabinet; that he was sometimes disposed to step beyond his own legitimate bounds and not duly respect the rights of his associates, but these were matters that did not call for Senatorial interference. In short, I considered it for the true interest of the country, now as in the future, that this scheme should be defeated; that, so believing, I had at the earliest moment given him my conclusions.

The President was much gratified; said the whole thing had struck him as it had me, and if carried out as the Senators prescribed, the whole Government must cave in. It could not stand, could not hold water; the bottom would be out.

I added that, having expressed my wish that he would not accept Mr. Seward's resignation, I thought it important that Seward should not press its acceptance, nor did I suppose he would. In this he also concurred, and asked if I had seen Seward. I replied I had not, my first duty was with him, and, having ascertained that we agreed, I would now go over and see him. He earnestly desired me to do so.

I went immediately to Seward's house. Stanton was with him. Seward was excited, talking vehemently to Stanton of the course pursued and the results that must follow if the scheme succeeded; told Stanton he (Stanton) would be the next victim, that there was a call for a meeting at the Cooper Institute this evening. Stanton said he had seen it; I had not. Seward got the Herald, got me to read; but Stanton seized the paper, as Seward and myself entered into conversation, and he related what the President had already communicated, — how Preston King had come to him, he wrote his resignation at once, and so did Fred, etc., etc. In the mean time Stanton rose, and remarked he had much to do, and, as Governor S. had been over this matter with him, he would leave.

I then stated my interview with the President, my advice that the President must not accept, nor he press, his resignation. Seward was greatly pleased with my views; said he had but one course before him when the doings of the Senators were communicated, but that if the President and country required of him any duty in this emergency he did not feel at liberty to refuse it. He spoke of his long political experience; dwelt on his own sagacity and his great services; feels deeply this movement, which was wholly unexpected; tries to suppress any exhibition of personal grievance or disappointment, but is painfully wounded, mortified, and chagrined. I told him I should return and report to the President our interview and that he acquiesced in my suggestions. He said he had no objections, but he thought the subject should be disposed of one way or the other at once. He is disappointed, I see, that the President did not promptly refuse to consider his resignation, and dismiss, or refuse to parley with, the committee.

When I returned to the White House, Chase and Stanton were in the President's office, but he was absent. A few words were interchanged on the great topic in hand. I was very emphatic in my opposition to the acceptance of Seward's resignation. Neither gave me a direct answer nor did either express an opinion on the subject, though I think both wished to be understood as acquiescing.

When the President came in, which was in a few moments, his first address was to me, asking if I “had seen the man.” I replied that I had, and that he assented to my views. He then turned to Chase and said, “I sent for you, for this matter is giving me great trouble.” At our first interview this morning the President rang and directed that a message be sent to Mr. Chase. Chase said he had been painfully affected by the meeting last evening, which was a total surprise to him, and, after some not very explicit remarks as to how he was affected, informed the President he had prepared his resignation of the office of Secretary of the Treasury. “Where is it?” said the President quickly, his eye lighting up in a moment. “I brought it with me,” said Chase, taking the paper from his pocket; “I wrote it this morning.” “Let me have it,” said the President, reaching his long arm and fingers towards C., who held on, seemingly reluctant to part with the letter, which was sealed, and which he apparently hesitated to surrender. Something further he wished to say, but the President was eager and did not perceive it, but took and hastily opened the letter.

“This,” said he, looking towards me with a triumphal laugh, “cuts the Gordian knot.” An air of satisfaction spread over his countenance such as I have not seen for some time. “I can dispose of this subject now without difficulty,” he added, as he turned on his chair; “I see my way clear.”

Chase sat by Stanton, fronting the fire; the President beside the fire, his face towards them, Stanton nearest him. I was on the sofa near the east window. While the President was reading the note, which was brief, Chase turned round and looked towards me, a little perplexed. He would, I think, have been better satisfied could this interview with the President have been without the presence of others, or at least if I was away. The President was so delighted that he saw not how others were affected.

“Mr. President,” said Stanton, with solemnity, “I informed you day before yesterday that I was ready to tender you my resignation. I wish you, sir, to consider my resignation at this time in your possession.”

“You may go to your Department,” said the President; “I don't want yours. This,” holding out Chase's letter, “is all I want; this relieves me; my way is clear; the trouble is ended. I will detain neither of you longer.” We all rose to leave, but Stanton lingered and held back as we reached the door. Chase and myself came downstairs together. He was moody and taciturn. Some one stopped him on the lower stairs and I passed on, but C. was not a minute behind me, and before I reached the Department, Stanton came staving along.

Preston King called at my house this evening and gave me particulars of what had been said and done at the caucuses of the Republican Senators, — of the surprise he felt when he found the hostility so universal against Seward, and that some of the calmest and most considerate Senators were the most decided; stated the course pursued by himself, which was frank, friendly, and manly. He was greatly pleased with my course, of which he had been informed by Seward and the President in part; and I gave him some facts which they did not. Blair tells me that his father's views correspond with mine, and the approval of F. P. Blair and Preston King gives me assurance that I am right.

Montgomery Blair is confident that Stanton has been instrumental in getting up this movement against Seward to screen himself, and turn attention from the management of the War Department. There may be something in this surmise of Blair; but I am inclined to think that Chase, Stanton, and Caleb Smith have each, but without concert, participated, if not directly, by expressions of discontent to their Senatorial intimates. Chase and Smith, I know, are a good deal dissatisfied with Seward and have not hesitated to make known their feelings in some quarters, though, I apprehend, not to the President. With Stanton I have little intimacy. He came into the Cabinet under Seward's wing, and he knows it, but Stanton is, by nature, an intriguer, courts favor, is not faithful in his friendships, is given to secret, underhand combinations. His obligations to Seward are great, but would not deter him from raising a breeze against Seward to favor himself. Chase and Seward entered the Cabinet as rivals, and in cold courtesy have so continued. There was an effort by Seward's friends to exclude Chase from the Treasury; the President did not yield to it, but it is obvious that Seward's more pleasant nature and consummate skill have enabled him to get to windward of Chase in administrative management, and the latter, who has but little tact, feels it. Transactions take place of a general character, not unfrequently, of which Chase and others are not advised until they are made public. Often the fact reaches them through the papers. Seward has not exhibited shrewdness in this, [though] it may have afforded him a temporary triumph as regarded Chase, and he doubtless flatters himself that it strengthens a belief which he desires should prevail that he is the “power behind the throne greater than the throne itself,” that he is the real Executive. The result of all this has been the alienation of a portion of his old friends without getting new ones, and finally this appointment of a committee which asked his removal. The objections urged are, I notice, the points on which Chase is most sensitive.

For two or three months Stanton has evinced a growing indifference to Seward, with whom he was, at first, intimate and to whom he was much devoted. I have observed that, as he became alienated towards Seward, his friendship for Chase increased.

My differences with Seward I have endeavored to settle with him in the day and time of their occurrences. They have not been many, but they have been troublesome and annoying because they were meddlesome and disturbing. He gets behind me, tampers with my subordinates, and interferes injuriously and ignorantly in naval matters, not so much from wrong purposes, but as a busybody by nature. I have not made these matters subjects of complaint outside and think it partly the result of usage and practice at Albany.

I am also aware that he and his friend Thurlow Weed were almost as much opposed to my entering the Cabinet as they were to Chase. They wanted a fraternity of Seward men. The President discerned this and put it aside. But he has not so readily detected, nor been aware of the influence which Seward exercises over him, often unfortunately. In his intercourse with his colleagues, save the rivalry between himself and Chase and the supercilious self-assumption which he sometimes displays, he has been courteous, affable, and, I think, anxious to preserve harmony in the Cabinet. I have seen no effort to get up combinations for himself personally, or against others. He supposed himself immensely popular at the moment when friends were estranged, and was as surprised as myself when he learned the Senatorial movement for his overthrow.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 196-204