SPEECH IN THE HOUSE
OF REPRESENTATIVES, AUGUST 8, 1850, ON PRESIDENT FILLMORE'S MESSAGE CONCERNING
THE TEXAN BOUNDARY.
MR. BROWN said:—When
the President's message was read at the clerk's desk on Wednesday, it struck me
as the most extraordinary paper which had ever emanated from an American
President. I have since read it carefully, and my first impressions have been
strengthened and confirmed.
The document is
extraordinary for its bold assumptions; extraordinary for its suppression of
historical truth; extraordinary for its war-like tone; and still more
extraordinary for its supercilious defiance of southern sentiment.
The President
assumes that to be true which covers the whole ground in controversy, and to do
this he has been driven to the necessity of suppressing every material fact;
and having thus laid the basis of the message, he proceeds to tell us what are
the means at his disposal for maintaining his positions; and winds up with a
distinct threat, that if there is not implicit obedience to his will, these
means will be employed to insure the obedience which he exacts.
Kings and despots
have thus talked to their subjects and their slaves, but this is the first
instance when the servant of a free people, just tossed by accident into a
place of power, has turned upon his masters, and threatened them with fire and
sword if they dared to murmur against his imperial will.
The President sits
down to address his first important message to Congress, and, as if forgetful
of his position, and mistaking this for a military, instead of a civil
government, he tells us he is commander-in-chief of the army and navy of the
United States, and of the militia of the several states when called into actual
service. He next proceeds to inform us that all necessary legislation has been
had to enable him to call this vast military and naval power into action. No
further interposition of Congress is asked for or desired. His duties are
plain, and his means clear and ample, and we are told with emphasis, that he
intends to enforce obedience to his decrees.
A stranger, who knew
nothing of our institutions, might well have supposed, from the reading of the
message, that the President was a military despot; and to have seen him
striding into the House of Representatives with a drawn sword, pointing first
to the army, and then to the navy, and then to the militia, one, by a very
slight transition, might have supposed himself in the presence of Oliver
Cromwell, instead of Millard Fillmore. Why, sir, this redoubtable military
hero, who "never set a squadron in the field, nor does the division of a
battle know more than a spinster," talks as flippantly to Congress and the
people about commanding the army and navy and militia of the United States, as
if he were a conquering hero addressing his captives, instead of a civil
magistrate making his first obeisance to his superiors.
Am I to be told by
the friends of the President, that no threat was implied in his late insolent
and insulting message—that he did not mean to threaten or menace Texas or the
South, by the language employed in that paper? Then why inform us that he is
commander-in-chief of the naval and military power of the government? Why
buckle on his armor? Why present himself here panoplied, as if for war, if his
mission was one of peace? Was it necessary for the information of Congress, or
of the country, that the President should tell us that he is the constitutional
commander-in-chief of the army and navy? Why tell us with so much of precise
detail, what laws were in force amplifying his powers under the Constitution,
if he did not mean to intimidate us? Why, sir, did he inform us that his duty was
plain, and his authority clear and ample, if he did not mean to close the
argument, and rely upon the sword? The whole scope and purpose of the message
is clear and palpable. It was intended to drive Texas and the South into meek
submission to the executive will. Instead of entering into a calm and
statesman-like review of the matters in controversy, he leaps at one bound to
his conclusions—asserts at once that Texas has no rightful claim to the
territory in dispute. He plants his foot, brandishes his sword, and, in true
Furioso style, declares that
"Whoso dares his boots displace,
Shall meet Bombastes face to face."
Well, sir, we shall
see how successful this display of military power on the part of the
illustrious "commander-in-chief of the army and navy" will be in
bringing the South to a humiliating surrender.
If there be any one
here or elsewhere, Mr. Chairman, who supposes that the President has acted
properly in this matter, let me speak to him calmly. Is there an instance on
record where a friendly power has gone with arms in his hands to treat with
another friendly power? Texas is not only a friendly power, but she is a state
of this Union, allied to us by every tie, political, social, and religious,
which can bind one people to another. Her chief magistrate has witnessed with
pain and sorrow, an attempt on the part of this government to wrest from his
state a portion of her territory. He thinks the President may not be cognisant
of these transactions. He knows it is being done without authority of law; and
what course does he take? He writes to the President a respectful note,
informing him, in substance, that an officer of the army, stationed in Santa
Fé, had interposed adversely to the authority of Texas, and was fomenting
discord, and exciting the inhabitants to rebellion. He made a respectful
inquiry, as to whether this officer was acting in obedience to the will or
wishes of the President. Now, sir, how was this inquiry answered? Did the
President make a respectful answer to a respectful inquiry? No, sir. He goes
off in a blaze of military fire; points to his military trappings—"Here is
my army, here is my navy, and there is the militia; my mind is made up; I do
approve of the conduct of my civil and military governor in Santa Fé; and if
you attempt to displace him, or question his authority, war, war, war to the knife,
will be the consequence.” Such, sir, is my reading of the President's message.
Was there ever such a beginning to a friendly negotiation? Suppose Great
Britian had sent a military force to take possession of our northeastern
territory or of Oregon, and the British officer in command had issued his
proclamation calling the inhabitants together to make and establish a
government adverse to the United States, and in total disregard of her claim;
suppose that, on seeing this, the President of the United States had addressed
a respectful inquiry to the British government, to know if this proceeding was
approved; and then, sir, suppose the British Minister had replied, "Her
majesty has so many ships of the line, so many war-steamers. Her military
resources are thus and so. She approves of the conduct of her officer in Oregon
or in Maine. Her duty is plain, and her means ample for maintaining the
authority she has assumed." What, let me ask you, men and patriots, would
have been thought of conduct like this? Would the American President have dared
to outrage the sentiment of his country by pocketing such an insult, and then
proceeding with the negotiation? If he had, is there one man in all this broad
land who would not, with his last gasp, have heaped curses and imprecations
upon his head? And shall this government force an insult upon Texas, a sister
of the confederacy, which she would not and dare not take from any power on
God's earth?
I know not what
course Texas may think it her duty to take in this emergency. But, sir, if she
strike for her honor—if she strike for her altars and her firesides if she
strike for liberty and law, I warn her oppressors that she will not strike
alone.
But, Mr. Chairman, I
have said that the President has virtually taken this question of the disputed
boundary between Texas and the United States out of the hands of Congress, and
has assumed, by an executive pronunciamiento, to settle the whole matter
adversely to Texas; and I will show that he means this, if he means anything.
As for anything
which appears in the message, Texas never had a shadow of claim to any part of
the country in dispute. The President is particular in stating that the country
was a part of New Mexico prior to the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, and recites
at full length the fifth, eighth, and ninth articles of that treaty, to show
that the country belongs to the United States, and that he is bound to protect
it by military power. But he wholly omits to say anything of the grounds on
which Texas bases her claim; not one word of her revolutionary rights; nothing
of her treaties with Mexico; not a syllable about her boundary as defined in
her constitution of 1836; no reference to the negotiations which led to her
annexation; nothing of the opinions of his predecessors and their cabinets,
recognising the rights of Texas within the boundary as prescribed by her
constitution; and lastly, no mention of the crowning act of annexation—the
resolutions of March 1, 1845, by which the star of her existence was blotted
out and her political institutions buried in those of the United States.
If Mr. Fillmore had
thought it worth his while to look into these matters, he would have found his
duty not quite so plain, nor the obligation quite so imperative to use the
naval and military power of this government to crush Texas, if she dared to assert
her rightful claim to the country in dispute.
I commend the
history of this transaction to the President and his advisers before they
commence hanging the Texans for treason. Perhaps it may be found that Texas
acquired some rights by her revolution and by her treaty with Santa Anna. It
may turn out that she placed the evidence of her rights on record in the
enduring form of a written constitution. It may appear that these rights were
recognised by every department of this government in its negotiations and
debates on the. treaty of annexation. It will most certainly appear that these
rights were solemnly recognised by this government in the final consummation of
that treaty. By the resolutions of annexation, approved March 1, 1845, it was
provided, among other things, that all that part of Texas lying south of
thirty-six degrees and thirty minutes north latitude, should be admitted into
the Union with or without slavery as the people might elect; and in all that
part lying north of the said parallel of thirty-six degrees and thirty minutes,
slavery should be prohibited. Now, sir, what does this language mean, and why
was it employed? Texas, as we all know, had defined her boundaries; she fixed
her western limits on the Rio Grande, from its mouth to its source, and she
extended her northern limits to the parallel of 42°. Hence, when she asked
admission into the Union, there was no dispute between her and the United
States as to where her boundaries were. She presented herself with fixed
boundaries, and we took her as she was. By a solemn compact, as binding in its
forms as a treaty between nations could make it, and as plain in its terms as
our language could express it, we accepted her, and shaped her policy through
all after time on the subject of slavery. Her territory north of 36° 30' was to
be free, and all south of that line was to be slave territory. Such was the
contract between Texas and the United States—the only contracting parties.
Texas presented herself bounded on the west by the Rio Grande and on the north
by the 42d parallel, and we took her as she presented herself. We had either to
do this or not take her at all. All the debates, all the negotiations, all that
was written or said on the subject pending the treaty of annexation, shows that
this was the understanding of both parties. True, there was an outstanding
dispute between Texas and Mexico about the separate or independent existence of
Texas. Mexico denied the nationality of Texas. The United States admitted it;
and treated with her as a sovereign. Mark you, Mexico did not dispute with
Texas about a boundary, but about her separate national independence. We
admitted Texas, by a treaty entered into between her and the United States,
into the Union of these states, and we undertook to defend, to protect and
maintain her against Mexico. We did this in good faith—we went to war with
Mexico. That war resulted in Mexico giving up all the territory that lay within
the limits of Texas, as defined by herself, and in her ceding other vast tracts
of country to the United States. Now, sir, what do we hear? Why, that certain
territory within her constitutional limits at the period of annexation, never
did belong to Texas; but that it was an integral part of Mexico. And though we
assumed to say how much of it should be free and how much slave territory, it
was in truth and in fact foreign territory. By what right did the American
Congress undertake to say that so much of Mexican territory as lay north of 36°
should be free, and all below that slave territory? Congress undertook no such
thing. We all thought then, as I think now, that the country belonged to Texas;
and we consulted with no one else—contracted with no one else in regard to it.
The President has
with great care traced out the line between the United States and Mexico, as
defined in the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, and has dwelt on the fifth, eighth,
and ninth articles of that treaty with great apparent unction, as sustaining
his position of hostility to Texas. Sir, what had Texas to do with that treaty?
What matters it with Texas as to what contract the United States may have made
with Mexico? Time was, when Texas was a sovereignty among the nations of the
earth; we so acknowledged her; we contracted with her in that capacity—what she
demands to-day is, that you fulfil the contract made with her. She is no party
to your contract with Mexico; she demands good faith in the execution of that
contract by which you obtained her sovereignty, and agreed to protect her
against Mexico; she protests against your protecting her against Mexico, and
dismembering her yourself.
When, Mr. Chairman,
the President was telling us what were his duties under our treaty with Mexico,
I pray you, was it not his duty to have told us what were his duties under the
treaty with Texas? And when he was dwelling with so much delight upon the three
articles of the treaty of Hidalgo, as the law which he was going to enforce
with fire and sword, was it not worth his while to have made some passing
notice of the treaty of 1845 with Texas? Or has it come to this, that a Free-Soil
President feels under no obligations to execute a contract with a slave state?
I suppose, with true Catholic instincts, he does not feel bound to keep faith
with heretics.
Santa Fé, the
country where Lieutenant-General Fillmore is going to halt his grand army, and
through which, I suppose, Commodore Fillmore may be expected to sail with his
naval fleet, lies not only south of the northern boundary of Texas-that is, 42°
north latitude—but it is in fact south of the compromise line of 36° 30' by
many miles. Not only has the President, in setting aside the legal boundary of
Texas, as defined in her constitution and recognised by this government in
various forms, outraged her rights, and covered at one sweep every inch of
ground in dispute between the United States and Texas, but he has gone further,
much further; he has established, or attempted to establish, a principle which
threatens the very existence of Texas as a separate state.
What says the
President? That he is bound, by the highest official obligations, to protect
the Mexican inhabitants of Santa Fé or New Mexico, as he is pleased to call it,
against the authority of Texas. He has announced, that if Texas attempts to
assert her authority in that country, and to punish those who commit overt acts
of treason against her, he will resist her with the whole naval and military
power of the government. Bear in mind, that this country is within her limits,
as defined by her constitution of 1836, and within the limits of the slave
portion of this territory, as defined by the resolutions of annexation. Now,
where does the President look for his authority thus to resist the authority of
Texas? Not, sir, to the treaty of annexation, but to the treaty with Mexico,
and to the eighth and ninth articles of that treaty. He finds here that
Mexicans residing in the territory ceded to the United States by Mexico, shall
be protected in their lives, liberty, property, and religion. Planting himself
on these stipulations, he announces his fixed determination to defend the
Mexican inhabitants against the authority of Texas. The treaty with Mexico is
the only law for his government in this regard. He wholly discards and treats
with contempt the treaty with Texas. He looks to but one boundary—that
established by the Mexican treaty. He looks to but acquisition, and that the
acquisition from Mexico. Now, sir, what is this boundary? and what this
acquisition? The boundary is the Rio Grande to the southern limit of New
Mexico, thence to the Gila river, and to the Pacific. The acquisition embraces
all the territory lying between Louisiana and Arkansas and the Indian territory,
on the one side, and this Mexican boundary on the other. We must recollect that
Mexico never recognised the independence of Texas; and when we treated with
her, we treated for California and New Mexico, and Texas from the Louisiana
line to the Rio Grande. The President does not respect the line of Texas, as
defined in her constitution and recognised by the resolution of annexation. He
kicks this line out of his way, and has announced his intention to be governed
alone by the treaty of Hidalgo. He says he will resist Texan authority below
the line of forty-two degrees; aye, he will resist it below thirty-six and a
half degrees. I know of no other line. The President admits in his message that
he does not know where the true boundary is. Then it becomes a matter of
interesting inquiry where his authority is going to stop. If the only boundary
known to any law as existing between the United States and Texas, is
disregarded, and the President is resolved to protect all Mexicans living on
territory ceded to the United States by Mexico, and it is true, as we have
seen, that Texas was as much а cession, so far as the treaty of Hidalgo is
concerned, as New Mexico and California; and if the President is going to
protect Mexicans against the authority of Texas in Santa Fé,—I should like to
know how much further down he is going to extend his protecting care. Will he
go down to Austin? Will he punish as far down as Houston? May Mexicans expect
the shield of his protecting care in Galveston? Is the authority of Texas everywhere
to fall before the triumphant march of this most valiant hero-this
commander-in-chief of the army and navy of the United States? It might
economize blood, sir, if this conquering chief would only deign to fix a
boundary—put up a sign-post at the point where he intends to stop hanging and
chopping off heads.
Mr. Chairman, I have
great respect for true and genuine heroism; but I confess myself rather restive
in the presence of the bastard progeny which this slavery agitation has brought
forth. When we were threatened with thirty-nine western regiments, I grew
impatient; when we were threatened with ten thousand Kentuckians, led on by the
great compromiser, I felt still more provoked; but when Millard Fillmore mounts
his Pegasus, and attempts to drive over us with the whole naval and military
power of the nation, I cannot think or speak with patience. When Jackson
threatened, there was dignity in the threat. When Taylor threatened, it was not
quite contemptible; but for Millard Fillmore, a mere come-by-chance—a poor
little kite, who has fallen by accident into the eagle's nest—when he attempts
to play the hero, and to threaten the South, one scarcely knows what limit to
fix to contempt and scorn. If these feelings have a deeper depth in the human
soul, let the upstart hero, not yet warm in the seat of accidental honor, know
and feel that he has reached that deeper depth in the heart of every true and
faithful son of the yet proud and independent South.
What, Mr. Chairman,
is the meaning of all this? Why does the President disregard the most solemn
obligations? Why, sir, does he manifest so much of impatience to wrest
successfully from Texas that which is so justly her own, and which she never
can surrender without dishonor? And why, sir, independent of all considerations
of justice and national faith, are we of the South bound to make common cause
with Texas? Because, sir, you and I, and every other southern man, know that
the question of slavery lies at the bottom of all these movements. That
question out of the way, and the President and his cabinet, and his friends on
this floor, would not care a single rush whether Santa Fé was in Texas or New
Mexico. That question out of the way, and we should have no disputing about
this country. The treaty obligations between the United States and Texas would
be faithfully maintained, and harmony would be restored in twenty-four hours.
Is it not melancholy, is it not alarming to every true patriot, to see that
this war upon a section, this eternal and never-ending assailment of the South,
has not only warped the judgment of the best and purest men of the North, but
has so far influenced the action of the President of the United States, that he
not only does not execute a treaty for the advantage of slavery, but, in dereliction
of the plainest dictates of duty, absolutely refuses to do so? Can any man look
at this state of things and not see the frightful end we are approaching? What
was the manifest duty of the President, and in this conjuncture of our affairs—admitting
that he thought, as I certainly do not, that there was reasonable grounds of
dispute as to the true boundary of Texas? Was it not,
sir, to have
occupied the country peaceably and quietly until the question was settled—taking
no advantage to himself, and giving none to the other party? I hear a voice
say, That is just what he did. Not so, sir. His predecessor, General Taylor,
found a military government there, and he allowed that military government to
foment disloyalty to Texas, and to take incipient steps for throwing off the
authority of Texas. The acting President goes further, and not only approves
this conduct, but gives us to understand that he means to maintain it by force
of arms. The President knows full well that if the rebels against Texas throw off
her authority and establish an anti-slavery constitution, a free-soil majority
here stand ready to admit her into the Union as a state. It is said that the
President never threatened to use military power until Texas had first
threatened. We all know, Mr. Chairman, on what state of facts the movements of
Texas have been based. We all know that Texas acquiesced in your sending a
military establishment to Santa Fe, under an assurance that it was not to be
used against her claim, or to her prejudice; and we all know that this same
military power in the hands of the President was used to subvert the authority
and trample under foot the rights of Texas. Thus it was, sir, when Texas saw
herself, by means like these, driven from her rightful possession, that she
first spoke of force. But even then, sir, she asked respectfully what was meant
by all these proceedings, and whether the President approved them; and we have
already seen in what spirit that civil inquiry was responded to. Texas would be
unfaithful to her past history if she feared to assert her rights, or faltered
in maintaining them against whatever odds.
In what attitude,
Mr. Chairman, does the northern Democracy present itself on the question of the
Texas boundary? It is within your recollection, that in the memorable political
contest of 1844, Texas was inscribed on all our banners; and from the loud
huzzas that went up continually, I thought it was inscribed on all our hearts.
Mr. Van Buren was discarded, and Mr. Clay crippled in the affections of his
friends on account of their mutual hostility to the project of annexation. Mr.
Polk was nominated and elected on the issue. The measure was consummated in
compliance with the people's mandate. War ensued, and the people turned out en
masse to prosecute it to a successful termination. The first blood was shed
between the Nueces and the Rio Grande; and the Democracy voted on their oaths
that it was American blood shed on American soil. You defended the President
through the whole of the war, always maintaining that the Texas we acquired,
was Texas according to the constitution of 1836; Texas as she presented
herself, and as she was accepted under the resolution of annexation. Now, where
are you? Will you vote to-day as you voted in 1844? Will you vote to-day as you
continued to vote through the whole of the Mexican war? And if not, why? I can
understand a northern Whig who votes against the claim of Texas. He belongs to
a party who was opposed to annexation; opposed to the war; opposed to the
acquisition of additional territory; opposed to everything that you and I were
for. But how you can oppose this claim, recognised as it has been in every
form, supported as it has been by you and me through all its various forms and
phases, I must confess myself at fault to understand.
There is one other
matter to which I must advert. It is become quite too common of late, for
certain political censors, in and out of Congress, to speak of southern men who
demand justice for the South, as ultras; and if we persist in our demands, and
can neither be bribed or brow-beaten into acquiescence with northern wrongs,
the next step is, to whistle us down the winds as disunionists and traitors. It
is not, sir, because I fear the effects of charges like these on the minds of
my constituents that I now speak. They have known me for many long years; I
have served them here and elsewhere; and if there is any earthly power to
persuade them that I am a disunionist or a traitor to my country, I would scorn
to receive office at their hands. I allude to charges like this, that I may
hold them up to public scorn and reprobation. The miserable reptiles who sting
the South while they nestle in her bosom, are the authors of these base
calumnies. Sooner or later they will be spurned as the veriest spaniels who
ever crouched at the footstool of power. I fancy, sir, that there is perfect
harmony of sentiment between my constituents and myself on the subjects which
now divide the North and the South. We are southerners and go for the
Constitution, and the Union subordinate to the Constitution. Give us the
Constitution as it was administered from the day of its formation to 1819, and
we are satisfied. Up to that time Congress never assumed to interfere with the
relation of master and servant. It extended over all, and gave to all equal
protection; give it to us to-day in the same spirit, and we are satisfied. Less
than this we will not accept. You ask us to love the Constitution, to revere the
Union, and to honor the glorious banner of the stars and stripes. Excuse me,
gentlemen; but I must say to you, in all candor, that the day has gone by when
I and my people can cherish a superstitious reverence for mere names. Give us a
Constitution strong enough to shield us all in the same degree, and we will
love it. Give us a Union capacious enough to receive us all as equals, and we
will revere it. Give us a banner that is broad enough to cover us as a nation
of brothers, and we will honor it. But if you offer us a broken constitution—one
that can only shield northern people and northern property—we will spurn it. If
you offer us a union so contracted that only half the states can stand up as
equals, we will reject it; and if you offer us a banner that covers your people
and your property, and leaves ours to the perils of piracy and plunder, we will
trample it under our feet. We came into this Union as equals, and we will
remain in it as equals. We demand equal laws and equal justice. We demand the protection
of the Constitution for ourselves, our lives, and our property. Wherever we may
be, we demand that the national flag, wherever it may wave, on the land or on
the seas, shall give shelter and security to our property and ourselves. These
are our demands: will you comply with them? You have the power to grant or
refuse them. Grant them, and our feelings of harmony and brotherhood will be
restored. These evidences of decay that we witness all around us will vanish,
and a strong, healthy, vigorous national prosperity will spring up. I shall not
predict the consequences of your refusal; they are so plain that “a wayfaring
man though a fool" cannot mistake them. They exhibit themselves in a
thousand different forms—in the divisions of our churches, in the estrangement
of family ties, in jealousies between the North and the South, in the gradual
but certain withdrawal of all confidence and fellowship between the people of
the two great sections. Where is the patriot heart that has not throbbed with
the deepest anxiety as from day to day the growth and progress of these things
has become more apparent? I will not dwell upon a theme so full of melancholy;
but allow me to add, in conclusion, I sincerely hope your conduct may not force
us in the end to say, We once were brothers, but you have become our enemies
and we are yours.
SOURCE: M. W.
Cluskey, Editor, Speeches, Messages, and Other Writings of the Hon.
Albert G. Brown, A Senator in Congress from the State of Mississippi, p.
200-8
