Showing posts with label Texas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Texas. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 30, 2025

Speech of Senator John C. Calhoun on His Resolutions in Reference on the War with Mexico Delivered in the United States Senate, January 4, 1848

RESOLUTIONS.

Resolved, That to conquer Mexico, and to hold it, either as a province or to incorporate it in the Union, would be inconsistent with the avowed object for which the war has been prosecuted; a departure from the settled policy of the Government; in conflict with its character and genius; and, in the end, subversive of our free and popular institutions.

 

Resolved, That no line of policy in the further prosecution of the war should be adopted which may lead to consequences so disastrous.

MR. CALHOUN said: In offering, Senators, these resolutions for your consideration, I am governed by the reasons which induced me to oppose the war, and by which I have been governed since it was sanctioned by Congress. In alluding to my opposition to the war, I do not intend to touch on the reasons which governed me on that occasion further than is necessary to explain my motives on the present.

I, then, opposed the war, not only because it might have been easily avoided; not only because the President had no authority to order a part of the disputed territory in possession of the Mexicans to be occupied by our troops; not only because I believed the allegations upon which Congress sanctioned the war untrue; but from high considerations of policy—because I believed it would lead to many and serious evils to the country, and greatly endanger its free institutions. But, after the war was declared, by authority of the Government, I acquiesced in what I could not prevent, and which it was impossible for me to arrest; and I then felt it to be my duty to limit my efforts to give such direction to the war as would, as far as possible, prevent the evils and danger with which it threatened the country and its institutions. For this purpose, at the last session, I suggested to the Senate the policy of adopting a defensive line; and for the same purpose I now offer these resolutions. This, and this only, is the motive which governs me on this occasion. I am moved by no personal or party considerations. My object is neither to sustain the Executive nor to strengthen the opposition;—but simply to discharge an important duty to the country. In doing so, I shall express my opinion on all points with the freedom and boldness which becomes an independent Senator, who has nothing to ask from the Government or from the People. But when I come to notice those points on which I differ from the President, I shall do it with all the decorum which is due to the Chief Magistrate of the Union.

I suggested a defensive line because, in the first place, I believed that the only certain mode of terminating the war successfully was to take indemnity into our own hands by occupying defensively, with our military force, a portion of the Mexican territory, which we might deem ample for indemnity; and, in the next, because I believed it would prevent a great sacrifice of life and property; but, above all, because I believed that it was the only way we could avoid the great danger to our institutions against which these resolutions are intended to guard. The President took a different view. He recommended a vigorous prosecution of the war—not for conquest—that was emphatically disavowed—but for the purpose of conquering peace—that is, to compel Mexico to sign a treaty ceding sufficient territory to indemnify the claims of our citizens and of the country for the expenses of the war. I could not approve of this policy. I opposed it, among other reasons, because I believed there was no certainty that the object intended to be effected would be accomplished let the war be ever so successful. Congress thought differently, and granted ample provisions, in men and money, for carrying out the policy recommended by the President. It has now been fully tested under the most favorable circumstances. It has been as successful as the most sanguine hope of the Executive could have anticipated. Victory after victory followed in rapid succession, without a single reverse. Santa Anna repelled and defeated with all his forces at Buena Vista—Vera Cruz, with its castle, captured—the heights of Cerro Gordo triumphantly carried—Jalapa, Perote, and Puebla occupied—and, after many triumphant victories under the walls of Mexico, its gates opened to us, and we put in possession of the capital. But what have all these splendid achievements accomplished? Has the avowed object of the war been attained? Have we conquered peace? Have we compelled Mexico to sign a treaty? Have we obtained indemnity? No. Not a single object contemplated by the campaign has been effected; and what is worse, our difficulties are greater now than they were at the commencement, and the objects sought more difficult to be accomplished. To what is this complete failure to be attributed? Not to our army. It has done all that skill and gallantry could accomplish. It is to be attributed to the policy pursued. The Executive aimed at indemnity in a wrong way. Instead of taking it into our own hands, when we had territory in our possession ample to cover the claims of our citizens and the expenses of the war, he sought it indirectly through a treaty with Mexico. He thus put it out of our own power, and under the control of Mexico, to say whether we should have indemnity or not, and thereby enabled her to defeat the whole object of the campaign by simply refusing to treat with us. Owing to this mistaken policy, after a most successful and brilliant campaign, involving an expenditure of not less, probably, than $40,000,000, and the sacrifice, by the sword and by disease, of many valuable lives, probably not less than six or seven thousand, nothing is left but the glory which our army has acquired.

But, as an apology for this, it is insisted that the maintenance of a defensive line would have involved as great a sacrifice as the campaign itself. The President and the Secretary of War have assigned many reasons for entertaining this opinion. I have examined them with care. This is not the proper occasion to discuss them, but I must say, with all due deference, they are, to my mind, utterly fallacious; and to satisfy your mind that such is the case, I will place the subject in a single point of view.

The line proposed by me, to which I suppose their reasons were intended to be applied, would be covered in its whole extent—from the Pacific Ocean to the Paso del Norte, on the Rio Grande—by the Gulf of California and the wilderness peopled by hostile tribes of Indians, through which no Mexican force could penetrate. For its entire occupancy and defence, nothing would be required but a few small vessels of war stationed in the gulf, and a single regiment to keep down any resistance from the few inhabitants within. From the Paso del Norte to the mouth of the river, a distance of a few hundred miles, a single fact will show what little force will be necessary to its defence. It was a frontier between Texas and Mexico, when the former had but an inconsiderable population-not more than an hundred and fifty thousand at the utmost, at any time-with no standing army, and but very few irregular troops; yet for several years she maintained this line without any, except slight occasional intrusion from Mexico, and this too when Mexico was far more consolidated in her power, and when revolutions were not so frequent, and her money resources were far greater than at present. If, then, Texas alone, under such circumstances, could defend that frontier for so long a period, can any man believe that now, when she is backed by the whole of the United States,—now that Mexico is exhausted, defeated, and prostrated—I repeat, can any man believe that it would involve as great a sacrifice to us of men and money, to defend that frontier, as did the last campaign? No. I hazard nothing in asserting, that, to defend it for an indefinite period would have required a less sum than the interest on the money spent in the campaign, and fewer men than were sacrificed in carrying it on.

So much for the past. We now come to the commencement of another campaign, and the question recurs, What shall be done? The President, in his message, recommends the same line of policy—a vigorous prosecution of the war—not for conquest, that is again emphatically disavowed ; not to blot Mexico out of the list of nations; no, he desires to see her an independent and flourishing community-and assigns strong reasons for it-but to obtain an honorable peace. We hear no more of conquering peace, but I presume that he means by an honorable peace the same thing; that is, to compel Mexico to agree to a treaty, ceding a sufficient part of her territory, as an indemnity for the expenses of the war, and for the claims of our citizens.

I have examined with care the grounds on which the President renews his recommendation, and am again compelled to dissent. There are many and powerful reasons—more so, even, than those that existed at the commencement of the last campaign—to justify my dissent. The sacrifice in money will be vastly greater. There is a bill for ten additional regiments now before the Senate, and another for twenty regiments of volunteers has been reported, authorizing, in all, the raising of an additional force of something upwards of thirty thousand. This, in addition to that already authorized by law, will be sufficient to keep an effective army in Mexico, of not much, if any, less than seventy thousand men, and will raise the expenses of the campaign to probably not less than sixty millions of dollars.

To meet so large an expenditure would involve, in the present and prospective condition of the money market, it is to be apprehended, not a little embarrassment. Last year money was abundant, and easily obtained. An unfortunate famine in Europe created a great demand for our agricultural products. This turned the balance of trade greatly in our favor, and specie poured into the country with a strong and steady current. No inconsiderable portion of it passed into the treasury, through the duties, which kept it full, in spite of the large sums remitted to meet the expenses of the war. The case is different now. Instead of having a tide flowing in, equal to the drain flowing out, the drain is now both ways. The exchanges now are against us,—instead of being in our favor, and instead of specie flowing into the country from abroad, it is flowing out. In the mean time, the price of stocks and treasury notes, instead of being at or above par, have both fallen below, to a small extent. The effects of the depreciation of treasury notes will cause them to pass into the treasury in payment of the customs and other dues to the Government, as the cheaper currency, instead of gold and silver; while the expenses of the war, whether paid for by the transmission of gold and silver direct to Mexico, or by drafts drawn in favor of British merchants or other capitalists there, will cause whatever specie may be in the vaults of the treasury to flow from it, either for remittance direct, on account of the ordinary transactions of the country, or to pay the drafts which may be drawn upon it, and which, when paid, in the present state of exchanges, will be remitted abroad. But this process of paying in treasury notes instead of gold and silver, and gold and silver flowing out in both directions, cannot continue long without exhausting its specie, and leaving nothing to meet the public expenditure, including those of the war, but treasury notes. Can they, under such circumstances, preserve even their present value? Is there not great danger that they will fall lower and lower, and finally involve the finances of the Government and the circulation of the country in the greatest embarrassment and difficulty?

Is there not great danger, with this prospect before us, and with the necessity of raising by loans near forty millions, of a commercial and financial crisis—even possibly a suspension by the banks. I wish not to create panic; but there is danger, which makes a great difference in a financial and moneyed point of view between the state of things now and at the commencement of the last session. Looking to the future, it is to be apprehended that not a little difficulty will have to be encountered in raising money to meet the expenses of the next campaign, if conducted on the large scale which is proposed. Men you may raise, but money will be found difficult to obtain. It is even to be apprehended that loans will have to be negotiated on very disadvantageous terms for the public. In the present state of things, if they grow no worse, there can be no resort to treasury notes. They cannot be materially increased, without a ruinous depreciation, and a resort must be had, exclusively, or almost entirely so, to borrowing. But at the present prices of stocks, to borrow so large a sum as will be necessary, can only be done at a greatly increased rate of interest on the nominal amount of stock. In a recent conversation with a gentleman, well informed on this subject, he said that in his opinion, if forty millions are required, a loan could not be had for more than ninety for one hundred, which would be about at the rate of seven per cent.

These are formidable objections; but they are not the only ones that are more so than they were at the commencement of the last campaign. I hold that the avowed object for the vigorous prosecution of the war is less certain of being realized now, than it was then; and if it should fail to be realized, it will leave our affairs in a far worse condition than they are at present. That object, as has been stated, is to obtain an honorable treaty; one which, to use the language of the President, will give indemnity for the past and security for the future—that is, a treaty which will give us a cession of territory, not only equal to our present demand for indemnity, but equal to the additional demand—equal to the entire expenses to be incurred in conducting the campaign; and a guaranty from the Government of Mexico for its faithful execution. Now, Senators, I hold that whether the war is successful or unsuccessful, there is not only no certainty that this object will be accomplished, but almost a certainty that it will not be. If the war be unsuccessful; if our arms should be baffled, as I trust and believe they will not be; if, from any unfortunate accident, such should be the case, it is clear that we shall not be able to negotiate a treaty that will accomplish the object intended. On the contrary, if the war should be successful, it is almost equally certain that, in such case, the avowed object for prosecuting the war vigorously, will not be accomplished. I might take higher ground, and maintain that the more successfully the war is prosecuted, the more certainly the object avowed will be defeated, while the objects disavowed would as certainly be accomplished.

What is the object of a vigorous prosecution of the war? How can it be successful? I can see but one way of making it so, and that is,—by suppressing all resistance on the part of Mexico, overpowering and dispersing her army, and utterly overthrowing her Government. But if this should be done; if a vigorous prosecution of the war should lead to this result, how are we to obtain an honorable peace? With whom shall we treat for indemnity for the past and security for the future? War may be made by one party, but it requires two to make peace. If all authority is overthrown in Mexico, where will be the power to enter into negotiation and make peace? Our very success would defeat the possibility of making peace. In that case the war would not end in peace, but in conquest; not in negotiation, but in subjugation; and defeat, I repeat, the very object you aim to accomplish, and accomplish that which you disavow to be your intention, by destroying the separate existence of Mexico,—overthrowing her nationality, and blotting out her name from the list of nations,—instead of leaving her a free Republic, which the President has so earnestly expressed his desire to do.

If I understand his message correctly, I have his own authority for the conclusion to which I come. He takes very much the same view that I do, as to how a war ought to be prosecuted vigorously, and what would be its results,—with the difference as to the latter resting on a single contingency, and that a remote one. He says that the great difficulty of obtaining peace results from this, that the people of Mexico are divided under factious chieftains, and that the chief in power dare not make peace, because for doing so he would be displaced by a rival. He also says, that the only way to remedy this evil and to obtain a treaty, is to put down the whole of them, including the one in power, as well as the others. Well, what then? Are we to stop there? No. Our generals are, it seems, authorized to encouraged and to protect the well disposed inhabitants in establishing a republican government. He says they are numerous, and are prevented from expressing their opinions and making an attempt to form such a government, only by fear of those military chieftains. He proposes, when they have thus formed a government, under the encouragement and, protection of our army, to obtain peace by a treaty with the government thus formed, which shall give us ample indemnity for the past and security for the future. I must say I am at a loss to see how a free and independent republic can be established in Mexico under the protection and authority of its conquerors. I can readily understand how an aristocracy or a despotic government might be, but how a free republican government can be so established, under such circumstances, is to me incomprehensible. I had always supposed that such a government must be the spontaneous wish of the people; that it must emanate from the hearts of the people, and be supported by their devotion to it, without support from abroad. But it seems that these are antiquated notions—obsolete ideas—and that free popular governments may be made under the authority and protection of a conqueror.

But suppose the difficulties surmounted, how can we make a free government in Mexico? Where are the materials? It is to be, I presume, a confederated government like their former. Where is the intelligence in Mexico for the construction and preservation of such a government? It is what she has been aiming at for more than twenty years, but so utterly incompetent are her people for the task, that it has been a complete failure from first to last. The great body of the intelligence and wealth of Mexico is concentrated in the priesthood, who are naturally disinclined to that form of government; the residue, for the most part, are the owners of the haciendas, the larger planters of the country, but they are without concert and destitute of the means of forming such a government. But if it were possible to establish such a government, it could not stand without the protection of our army. It would fall as soon as it is withdrawn.

If it be determined to have a treaty, it would be a far preferable course, it appears to me, to abstain from attacking or destroying the government now existing in Mexico, and to treat with it, if indeed it be capable of forming a treaty which it could maintain and execute. Upon this point I do not profess to have any information beyond that derived from conversations with those who have been in Mexico; but from all that I can hear, it may be doubted, whether we have not already pushed what is called a vigorous prosecution of the war so far, as not to leave sufficient power and influence in the Government to enter into a treaty which would be respected, when our forces are withdrawn. Such I know to be the opinion of intelligent officers. They concur in thinking that the existing Government at Queretaro, if it should enter into a treaty in conformity with the views expressed by the Executive, would be overthrown, and that we should be compelled to defend that portion of Mexico which we require for indemnity defensively, or be compelled to return and renew the prosecution of the war. If such is its weakness, it may be apprehended that even now, without pushing the vigorous prosecution of the war further, we are greatly exposed to the danger which these resolutions are intended to guard against, and that it requires great discretion and prompt action on our part to avoid it.

But before leaving this part of the subject, I must enter my solemn protest, as one of the Representatives of a State of this Union, against pledging protection to any government established in Mexico under our countenance or encouragement. It would inevitably be overthrown as soon as our forces are withdrawn; and we would be compelled, in fulfilment of plighted faith, implied or expressed, to return and reinstate such Government in power, to be again overturned and again reinstated, until we should be compelled to take the government into our own hands, just as the English have been compelled again and again to do in Hindostan, under similar circumstances, until it has led to its entire conquest. Let us avoid following the example which we have been condemning, as far back as my recollection extends.

The President himself entertains doubt, whether the plan of forming a government in the manner which I have been considering, and treating with it for indemnity, may not fail. In that case, he agrees that the very course to which I have said the vigorous prosecution of the war will inevitably lead, must be taken. He says, after having attempted to establish such a government—after having employed the best efforts to secure peace—if all fail, "we must hold on to the occupation of the country. We must take the full measure of indemnity into our own hands, and enforce such terms as the honor of the country demands." These are his words. Now, what is this? Is it not an acknowledgment, that if he fail in establishing a government with which he can treat, in Mexico-after putting down all resistance under the existing Government, we must make a conquest of the whole country, and hold it subject to our control? Can words be stronger? "Occupy the whole country"—" take the full measure of indemnity"—no defensive line—no treaty, and, "enforce terms." Terms on whom? On the Government? No, no, no. To enforce terms on the people individually. That is to say, to establish a government over them in the form of a province.

The President is right. If the vigorous prosecution of the war should be successful, and the contingency on which he expects to make a treaty fail, there will be no retreat. Every argument against calling back the army and taking a defensive line will have double force, after having spent $60,000,000, and acquired the possession of the whole of Mexico; and the interests in favor of keeping possession would be much more powerful then than now. The army itself will be larger—those who live by the war, the numerous contractors, the merchants, the sutlers, the speculators in land and mines, and all who are profiting directly or indirectly by its prosecution, will be adverse to retiring, and will swell the cry of holding on to our conquests. They constitute an immense body of vast influence, who are growing rich by what is impoverishing the rest of the country.

It is at this stage that the President speaks of taking the indemnity into our own hands. But why delay it until the whole country is subdued? Why not take it now? A part of Mexico would be a better indemnity now, than the whole of Mexico would be at the end of the next campaign, when $60,000,000 will be added to the present expenditures. We would indeed acquire a control over a much larger portion of her population, but we would never be able to extort from them, by all the forms of taxation to which you can resort, a sum sufficient to pay the force necessary to hold them in subjection. That force must be a large one, not less, certainly, than 40,000 men, according to the opinion of the Senator from Mississippi (Mr. Davis), who must be regarded as a competent judge upon this point. He stated in debate the other day, that the army now there, exceeding that number, are in danger; and urged, on that account, the immediate passage of the bill to raise ten regiments. On this subject, it is as well to speak out plainly at once. We shall never obtain indemnity for the expenditures of the war. They must come out of the pockets of the people of the United States; and the longer the war is continued, and the more numerous our army, the greater will be the debt, and the heavier the burden imposed upon the country.

If these views be correct, the end of the policy recommended by the President-whether contemplated or notwill be, to force the Government to adopt one or the other alternative alluded to in these resolutions. With this impression, I cannot support the policy he recommends, for the reasons assigned in the first resolution. The first of these is, that it would be inconsistent with the avowed object for which the war has been prosecuted. That it would be so, is apparent from what has already been said. Since the commencement of the war until this time, the President has continually disavowed the intention of conquering Mexico, and subjecting her to our control. He has constantly proclaimed that the only object was indemnity, and that the war is prosecuted to obtain it by treaty. And yet, if the results should be as I have stated, the end will be, that what was disavowed will be accomplished, and what has been avowed to be its object, will be defeated. Such a result would be a deep and lasting impeachment of the sincerity or the intelligence of the Government of its sincerity, because directly opposed to what it has continually and emphatically disavowed; of its intelligence, for not perceiving what ought to have been so readily anticipated.

We have heard much of the reputation which our country has acquired by this war. I acknowledge it to the full amount, as far as the military is concerned. The army has done its duty nobly, and conferred high honors on the country, for which I sincerely thank them; but I apprehend that the reputation acquired does not go beyond this, and that, in other respects, we have lost instead of acquiring reputation by the war. It would seem certain, from all publications from abroad, that the Government itself has not gained reputation in the eyes of the world for justice, moderation, or wisdom.

Whether this be deserved or not, it is not for me to inquire at present. I am now speaking merely of reputation; and in this view it appears that we have lost abroad, as much in civil and political reputation as we have acquired for our skill and valor in arms. But much as I regard military glory—much as I rejoice to witness the display of that indomitable energy and courage which surmounts all difficulties—I would be sorry indeed that our Government should lose any portion of that high character for justice, moderation, and discretion, which distinguished it in the early stages of our history.

The next reason assigned is, that either holding Mexico as a province, or incorporating her into the Union, would be unprecedented by any example in our history. We have conquered many of the neighboring tribes of Indians, but we have never thought of holding them in subjection, or of incorporating them into our Union. They have been left as an independent people in the midst of us, or been driven back into the forests. Nor have we ever incorporated into the Union any but the Caucasian race. To incorporate Mexico would be the first departure of the kind; for more than half of its population are pure Indians, and by far the larger portion of the residue mixed blood. I protest against the incorporation of such a people. Ours is the government of the white man. The great misfortune of what was formerly Spanish America, is to be traced to the fatal error of placing the colored race on an equality with the white. This error destroyed the social arrangement which formed the basis of their society. This error we have wholly escaped; the Brazilians, formerly a province of Portugal, have escaped also to a considerable extent, and they and we are the only people of this continent who made revolutions without anarchy. And yet, with this example before them, and our uniform practice, there are those among us who talk about erecting these Mexicans into territorial governments, and placing them on an equality with the people of these States. I utterly protest against the project.

It is a remarkable fact in this connection, that in the whole history of man, as far as my information extends, there is no instance whatever of any civilized colored race, of any shade, being found equal to the establishment and maintenance of free government, although by far the largest proportion of the human family is composed of them; and even in the savage state, we rarely find them any where with such governments, except it be our noble savages; for noble I will call them for their many high qualities. They, for the most part, had free institutions, but such institutions are much more easily sustained among a savage than a civilized people. Are we to overlook this great fact? Are we to associate with ourselves, as equals, companions, and fellow-citizens, the Indians and mixed races of Mexico? I would consider such association as degrading to ourselves, and fatal to our institutions.

The next remaining reasons assigned, that it would be in conflict with the genius and character of our Government, and, in the end, subversive of our free institutions, are intimately connected, and I shall consider them together.

That it would be contrary to the genius and character of our Government, and subversive of our free popular institutions, to hold Mexico as a subject province, is a proposition too clear for argument before a body so enlightened as the Senate. You know the American constitution too well,—you have looked into history, and are too well acquainted with the fatal effects which large provincial possessions have ever had on the institutions of free states,—to need any proof to satisfy you how hostile it would be to the institutions of this country, to hold Mexico as a subject province. There is not an example on record of any free state holding a province of the same extent and population, without disastrous consequences. The nations conquered and held as a province, have, in time, retaliated by destroying the liberty of their conquerors, through the corrupting effect of extended patronage and irresponsible power. Such, certainly, would be our case. The conquest of Mexico would add so vastly to the patronage of this Government, that it would absorb the whole powers of the States; the Union would become an imperial power, and the States reduced to mere subordinate corporations. But the evil would not end there; the process would go on, and the power transferred from the States to the Union, would be transferred from the Legislative Department to the Executive. All the immense patronage which holding it as a province would create,—the maintenance of a large army, to hold it in subjection, and the appointment of a multitude of civil officers necessary to govern it, would be vested in him. The great influence which it would give the President, would be the means of controlling the Legislative Department, and subjecting it to his dictation, especially when combined with the principle of proscription which has now become the established practice of the Government. The struggle to obtain the Presidential chair would become proportionably great—so great as to destroy the freedom of elections. The end would be anarchy or despotism, as certain as I am now addressing the Senate.

Let it not be said that Great Britain is an example to the contrary; that she holds provinces of vast extent and population, without materially impairing the liberty of the subject, or exposing the Government to violence, anarchy, confusion, or corruption. It is so. But it must be attributed to the peculiar character of her government. Of all governments that ever existed, of a free character, the British far transcends all in one particular, and that is, its capacity to bear patronage without the evils usually incident to it. She can bear more, in proportion to population and wealth, than any government of that character that ever existed:—I might even go further, and assert than despotism itself in its most absolute form. I will not undertake to explain why it is so. It will take me further from the course which I have prescribed for myself, than I desire; but I will say, in a few words, that it results from the fact that her Executive and the House of Lords (the conservative branches of her Government) are both hereditary, while the other House of Parliament has a popular character. The Roman Government exceeded the British in its capacity for conquest. No government ever did exist, and none probably ever will, which, in that particular, equalled it; but its capacity to hold conquered provinces in subjection, was as nothing compared to that of Great Britain; and hence, when the Roman power passed beyond the limits of Italy, crossed the Adriatic, the Mediterranean, and the Alps, liberty fell prostrate; the Roman people became a rabble; corruption penetrated every department of the Government; violence and anarchy ruled the day, and military despotism closed the scene. Now, on the contrary, we see England, with subject-provinces of vastly greater territorial extent, and probably of not inferior population (I have not compared them); we see her, I repeat, going on without the personal liberty of the subject being materially impaired, or the Government subject to violence or anarchy! Yet England has not wholly escaped the curse which must ever befall a free government which holds extensive provinces in subjection; for, although she has not lost her liberty, or fallen into anarchy, yet we behold the population of England crushed to the earth by the superincumbent weight of debt and taxation, which may one day terminate in revolution. The wealth derived from her conquests and provincial possessions may have contributed to swell the overgrown fortunes of the upper classes, but has done nothing to alleviate the pressure on the laboring masses below. On the contrary, the expenses incident to their conquest, and of governing and holding them in subjection, have been drawn mainly from their labor, and have increased instead of decreasing the weight of the pressure. It has placed a burden upon them which, with all their skill and industry, with all the vast accumulation of capital and power of machinery with which they are aided,—they are scarce capable of bearing, without being reduced to the lowest depths of poverty. Take, for example, Ireland, her earliest and nearest conquest, and is it not to this day a cause of heavy expense, and a burden, instead of a source of revenue ?

On the contrary, our Government, in this particular, is the very reverse of the British. Of all free governments, it has the least capacity, in proportion to the wealth and population of the country, to bear patronage. The genius of the two, in this particular, is precisely opposite, however much alike in exterior forms and other particulars. The cause of this difference, I will not undertake to explain on the present occasion. It results from its federal character and elective chief magistrate; and so far from the example of Great Britain constituting a safe precedent for us to follow, the little she has gained from her numerous conquests and vast provincial possessions, and the heavy burdens which it has imposed upon her people to meet the consequent expenses, ought to be to us a warning never to be forgotten; especially when we reflect that, from the nature of our Government, we would be so liable to the other and greater evils from which she, from the nature of her Government, is, in a great measure, exempted. Such and so weighty are the objections to conquering Mexico, and holding it as a subject province.

Nor are the reasons less weighty against incorporating her into the Union. As far as law is concerned, this is easily done. All that is necessary is to establish a territorial government for the several States in Mexico, of which there are upwards of twenty,—to appoint governors, judges, and magistrates, and to give to the population a subordinate right of making laws—we defraying the cost of the government. So far as legislation goes, the work will be done; but there would be a great difference between these territorial governments, and those which we have heretofore established within our own limits. These are only the offsets of our own people, or foreigners from the same countries from which our ancestors came. The first settlers in the territories are too few in number to form and support a government of their own, and are under obligation to the Government of the United States for forming one for them, and defraying the expense of maintaining it; knowing, as they do, that when they have sufficient population, they will be permitted to form a constitution for themselves, and be admitted as members of the Union.—During the period of their territorial government, no force is necessary to keep them in a state of subjection. The case will be entirely different with these Mexican territories; when you form them, you must have powerful armies to hold them in subjection, with all the expenses incident to supporting them. You may call them territories, but they would, in reality, be but provinces under another name, and would involve the country in all the difficulties and dangers which I have already shown would result from holding the country in that condition. How long this state of things would last, before they would be fitted to be incorporated into the Union as States, we may form some idea, from similar instances with which we are familiar. Ireland has been held in subjection by England for many centuries; and yet remains hostile, although her people are of a kindred race with the conquerors. The French colony in Canada still entertain hostile feelings towards their conquerors, although living in the midst of them for nearly one hundred years. If we may judge from these examples, it would not be unsafe to conclude that the Mexicans never will be heartily reconciled to our authority. The better class have Castilian blood in their veins, and are of the old Gothic stock—quite equal to the Anglo-Saxons in many respects, and in some superior. Of all the people upon earth, they are the most pertinacious; they hold out longer, and often when there would seem to be no prospect of ever making effectual resistance. It is admitted, I believe, on all hands, that they are now universally hostile to us, and the probability is, will continue so.

But suppose this difficulty removed. Suppose their hostility should cease, and they should become desirous of being incorporated into our Union. Ought we to admit them? Are the Mexicans fit to be politically associated with us? Are they fit not only to govern themselves, but for governing us also? Are any of you, Senators, willing that your State should constitute a member of a Union, of which twenty odd Mexican States, more than one-third of the whole, would be a part, the far greater part of the inhabitants of which are pure Indians, not equal in intelligence and elevation of character to the Cherokees, Choctaws, or any of our Southern Indian tribes?

We make a great mistake in supposing all people are capable of self-government. Acting under that impression, many are anxious to force free governments on all the people of this continent, and over the world, if they had the power. It has been lately urged in a very respectable quarter, that it is the mission of this country to spread civil and religious liberty over all the globe, and especially over this continent—even by force, if necessary. It is a sad delusion. None but a people advanced to a high state of moral and intellectual excellence are capable in a civilized condition, of forming and maintaining free governments; and among those who are so far advanced, very few indeed have had the good fortune to form constitutions capable of endurance. It is a remarkable fact in the political history of man, that there is scarcely an instance of a free constitutional government, which has been the work exclusively of foresight and wisdom. They have all been the result of a fortunate combination of circumstances. It is a very difficult task to make a constitution worthy of being called so. This admirable federal constitution of ours, is the result of such a combination. It is superior to the wisdom of any or all of the men by whose agency it was made. The force of circumstances, and not foresight or wisdom, induced them to adopt many of its wisest provisions.

But of the few nations who have been so fortunate as to adopt a wise constitution, still fewer have had the wisdom long to preserve one. It is harder to preserve than to obtain liberty. After years of prosperity, the tenure by which it is held is but too often forgotten; and I fear, Senators, that such is the case with us. There is no solicitude now about liberty. It was not so in the early days of the republic. Then it was the first object of our solicitude. The maxim then was, that "Power is always stealing from the many to the few;" "The price of liberty is perpetual vigilance." Then no question of any magnitude came up, in which the first inquiry was not, "Is it constitutional?"—"Is it consistent with our free, popular institutions?"—"How is it to affect our liberty?" It is not so now. Questions of the greatest magnitude are now discussed without reference or allusion to these vital considerations. I have been often struck with the fact, that in the discussions of the great questions in which we are now engaged, relating to the origin and the conduct of this war, their effect on the free institutions and the liberty of the people have scarcely been alluded to, although their bearing in that respect is so direct and disastrous. They would, in former days, have been the great and leading topics of discussion; and would, above all others, have had the most powerful effect in arousing the attention of the country. But now, other topics occupy the attention of Congress and of the country-military glory, extension of the empire, and the aggrandizement of the country. To what is this great change to be attributed ? Is it because there has been a decay of the spirit of liberty among the people? I think not. I believe that it was never more ardent. The true cause is, that we have ceased to remember the tenure by which liberty alone can be preserved. We have had so many years of prosperity—passed through so many difficulties and dangers without the loss of liberty—that we begin to think that we hold it by right divine from heaven itself. Under this impression, without thinking or reflecting, we plunge into war, contract heavy debts, increase vastly the patronage of the Executive, and indulge in every species of extravagance, without thinking that we expose our liberty to hazard. It is a great and fatal mistake. The day of retribution will come; and when it does, awful will be the reckoning, and heavy the responsibility somewhere.

I have now shown, Senators, that the conquest of Mexico, and holding it as a subject province, or incorporating it into our Union, is liable to the many and irresistible objections assigned in the first resolution. I have also shown that the policy recommended by the President, if carried out, would terminate, in all probability, in its conquest, and holding it either in one or the other mode stated; and that such is the opinion of the President himself, unless, in the mean time, peace can be obtained. Believing, then, that this line of policy might lead to consequences so disastrous, it ought not, in my opinion, in the language of the second resolution, to be adopted. Thus thinking, I cannot give it my support. The question is then presented—What should be done? It is a great and difficult question, and daily becoming more so. I, who have used every effort in my power to prevent this war, might excuse myself from answering it, and leave it to those who have incurred greater responsibility in relation to it. But I will not shrink from any responsibility where the safety of the country or its institutions are at stake.

The first consideration in determining what line of policy, in the present state of things, ought to be adopted, is to decide what line will most effectually guard against the dangers which I have shown would result from the conquest of Mexico, and the disastrous consequences which would follow it.

After the most mature reflection which I have been able to give to the subject, I am of opinion now, and have been from the first, that the only one by which it can be certainly guarded against, is to take the question of indemnity into our own hands—to occupy defensively, and hold subject to negotiation, a portion of the territory of Mexico, which we may deem ample to cover all proper claims upon her, and which will be best suited to us to acquire, and least disadvantageous to her to lose. Such was my impression when the message of the President of the United States recommended to Congress the recognition of the existence of a war with Mexico. My view, at that time, as to the proper course to be pursued, was to vote the supplies, to rescue General Taylor and his army from the dangers which surrounded them, and take time to determine whether we should recognize the war or not. Had it been adopted, I would have insisted on raising a provisional army, to be collected at some proper point, and to be trained and disciplined: but to postpone the declaration of war until the Congress of Mexico, in which, according to her Constitution, the war-making power resided, should be allowed time to disavow the intention of making war on us, and to adjust all differences between the two countries. But if she refused, even then I would have advised to seize, by way of reprisal, the portion of her territory which we might select, and hold it defensively, as I have just stated, instead of declaring war formally against her; and that mainly for the purpose of avoiding the very dangers against which these resolutions are intended to guard. But such was the urgency which was supposed then to exist, that no time was allowed to present or press these views upon the Senate. Such a course, besides the saving of an immense sacrifice of men and money, and avoiding the many other evils to which the course adopted has already subjected the country, would have effectually prevented our being entangled in the affairs of Mexico, from which we find it now so difficult to extricate ourselves. This consideration alone gives it decisive advantages over the course adopted, and makes it vastly superior, even if it should involve the same sacrifice of men and money to maintain a defensive line, as would, to use the usual phrase, the vigorous prosecution of the war. Mexico is to us as a dead body, and this is the only way that we can cut the cord which binds us to the corpse.

In recommending this line of policy, I look not to the interests of Mexico, but to those of our own country, and to the preservation of its free popular institutions. With me, the liberty of the country is all in all. If this be preserved, every thing will be preserved, but if lost, all will be lost. To preserve it, it is indispensable to adopt a course of moderation and justice towards all other countries; to avoid war whenever it can be avoided; to let those great causes which are now at work, and which, by the mere operation of time, will raise our country to an elevation and influence which no country has ever heretofore attained, continue to work. By pursuing such a course, we may succeed in combining greatness and liberty—the highest possible greatness with the largest measure of liberty and do more to extend liberty by our example over this continent and the world generally, than would be done by a thousand victories. It may be, in expressing these sentiments, that I find no response in the breasts of those around me. If so, it must be attributed to the fact that I am growing old, and that my principles and feelings belong to a period of thirty or thirty-five years anterior to the present date. It is not, however, the first time I have ventured in their maintenance to stand alone on this floor. When General Jackson, some years since, during the latter part of his administration, recommended to Congress to issue letters of marque and reprisal against France, I stood alone in my place here, and raised my voice against it, on the ground that there was no just cause of war with her; that, in entering into the treaty to indemnify our citizens for old claims against her, the King of France and his Ministers declared to our Minister, that it required a vote of the Chambers to make the appropriation to carry it into effect; and that they were no further responsible than to use their best efforts to induce them to do so. This was all communicated to our Executive, and the treaty accepted and ratified, with this condition attached. And yet the President, although he admitted that the King and his Ministers had fully redeemed their pledge to use their best efforts to obtain the necessary appropriation, recommended the adoption of the measure to which I have alluded, and which would have been tantamount to war. Fortunately the Government of Great Britain, by her interposition, prevented it. This example, I fear, has contributed much to give the strong tendency, which we have since witnessed, to resort to menace and force in the settlement of our differences with other powers.

According to my opinion, all parties are interested in adopting a line of policy which will with certainty disentangle us from the affairs of Mexico, and avoid the great sacrifices of men and money, and the many other evils to which the war exposes us. Let me say to my friends, who support the administration in their policy, that if you persist, and if peace by some good fortune should not be obtained, the war will go on from year to year, and you will be utterly overthrown as a party. Do you not see that its effect, in reference to our internal affairs, is to drive you into a course of policy directly contrary to that which you have professed to support, and in favor of that which you have charged your opponents with supporting. You have ever professed to oppose, as a party, a national debt, and charged your opponents with being its advocates. But what, I ask, is the effect of the war in this respect? Is it not to create an immense national debt, greater than that which the party to which you are opposed could possibly have created by any other policy, had they been in power? This campaign, on which you look so lightly, will add to it a sum more than half as great as the entire debt of the Revolution. You have been opposed to the extension of the patronage of the Executive, at least in profession. But this war is doing more to enlarge his patronage than any other policy which your opponents could have adopted. You profess to be in favor of a metallic currency. Do you not see that with the increase of stocks and treasury notes, you are in danger of being plunged again into the lowest depths of the paper system? You, as a party, have advocated the doctrine of free trade. Do you not see that, by the vast increase of the expenditures of the country, and the heavy interest which you will have to pay on the public debt, you are creating a necessity for increasing the duties on imports to the highest point that revenue will admit, and thus depriving the country of all the practical benefits of free trade, and preventing the Government from making any material reduction, until the whole debt is paid, which cannot be expected during this generation? What could your opponents have done more, or even as much, to destroy a system of policy which you claim to distinguish you from them, and to establish that which you allege to be the reason why they should be excluded from power? Has not, and will not, this war policy, if persisted in, effectually and finally obliterate the line of policy which you have insisted on as distinguishing you from them? Why, then, to save yourselves from such a result, do you hesitate to adopt the course of policy I have suggested, as the only certain means of preventing these and other evils, and the danger to which our institutions are exposed? The pride of opinion may resist. I know the difficulty, and respect it, with which we yield measures that we have advocated, even when time has shown them to be wrong. But, true magnanimity and the highest honor command that we should abandon them, when they threaten to be injurious instead of beneficial to the country. It would do great credit to the party in power to adopt the policy now, in reference to the war, of taking indemnity into our own hands, by assuming a defensive position, which, it can hardly be doubted they would have done when the war was recognized, if they had foreseen the difficulties and dangers to which it has led. It would be a noble sacrifice of individual pride to patriotism.

In asserting that the only alternative is between the policy recommended by the President and the adoption of a defensive position, I have put out of the question the policy of taking no territory. I have done so, because I believe the voice of the country has decided irrevocably against it, and that to press it as the alternative, would render almost certain the final adoption of the policy recommended by the President, notwithstanding the disasters which it threatens. Let me say to my friends on the other side of the Chamber (for as such I regard them, for political differences here do not affect our personal relations), that they have contributed by their course to fix the determination not to terminate the war without some suitable indemnity in territory. I do not refer to your vote recognizing the existence of war between the Republic of Mexico and the United States. I well know that you voted with a view to furnish immediate support to General Taylor and his army, then surrounded by imminent danger, and not with the intention of recognizing the war; and that you remonstrated and protested against that interpretation being put upon your votes. But since it passed, and the war was recognized, most of you have continued to vote for appropriations to prosecute the war, when the object of prosecuting it was avowed to be to acquire territory as an indemnity. Now, I cannot see how the two can be reconciled—how you can refuse to take indemnity in territory, when you have voted means for the express purpose of obtaining such indemnity. The people are not able to understand why you should vote money so profusely to get indemnity, and refuse to take it, when obtained; and hence public opinion has been brought so decidedly to the conclusion not to terminate the war without territorial indemnity. But if such indemnity is to be had without involving the hazard of conquering the country, with all the dangers to which it would expose us, we must decide whether we shall adopt a defensive position or not, now-this very session. It will, in all possibility, be too late at the next.

I have now, Senators, delivered my sentiments with freedom and candor, upon all the questions connected with these resolutions. I propose nothing now. But if I find that I will be supported, I will move to raise a Committee to deliberate upon the subject of the defensive line.

The opportunity is favorable, while there are so many officers from Mexico now in the city, whose opinion would be of great value in determining on the one to be adopted. If the course of policy which I have suggested should be adopted, we may not get peace immediately. The war may still continue for some time; but be that as it may, it will accomplish the all-important object-will extricate the country from its entanglement with Mexico.

SOURCE: Richard C. Crallé, Editorn, The Works of John C. Calhoun: Speeches of John C. Calhoun Delivered in the House of Representatives, and in the Senate of the United States, Vol. 4, pp. 396-424

Sunday, March 2, 2025

Speech of Congressman Albert G. Brown, November 2, 1850

DELIVERED AT ELLWOOD SPRINGS, NEAR PORT GIBSON, MISS., NOVEMBER 2, 1850.

FELLOW-CITIZENS: I shall speak to you to-day, not as Whigs, not as Democrats, but as citizens of a common country having a common interest and a common destiny.

The events of the last ten months have precipitated a crisis in our public affairs which many of the wisest and sagest among us have fondly hoped was yet distant many long years.

It is not my purpose to enter upon a critical review of the late most extraordinary conduct of the President and of Congress. I am not at liberty to suppose, that a people whose dearest rights have been the object of attack for ten months and more, have failed to keep themselves informed of the more prominent events as they have transpired. We ought, to-day, to inquire what is to be done in the future, rather than what has been done in the past.

I confess my inability to counsel a great people as to the best mode of proceeding in an emergency like the present. Instead of imparting advice to others, I feel myself greatly in need of instruction. But, I will not on this account refuse to contribute an expression of my own best reflections, when, as in this instance, I am called upon to do so.

To the end that you may clearly understand my conclusions, it will be necessary for me to present a brief summary of the events which have brought us to our present perilous condition. To go no further back than the last year, we shall find that in Mississippi, at least, the great body of the people were aroused to a sense of the impending danger. At a meeting assembled in the town of Jackson early in the last year, both Whigs and Democrats united in an address to the country, giving assurance that the time had come for action.

Gentlemen of high character, of great popularity, and merited influence, headed this meeting; a convention of the state was recommended, and every indication was given to the country that, in the judgment of these gentlemen, the time had actually come for bold and decisive action. This movement was seconded in almost every county in the state; and wherever the people assembled, delegates were appointed to a general state convention; and in every instance, so far as I am informed, these delegates were chosen from the two great political parties, one-half Whigs and the other half Democrats. The contemplated convention assembled at Jackson, in October, and recommended a convention of the Southern States, to assemble at Nashville, at some future day, to be agreed upon among the states. The Mississippi movement was responded to with great unanimity in several of our sister states—in Virginia, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Florida. There seemed to be for a time, a very general and united sentiment in favor of the proposed convention at Nashville. The scheme was not without warm and influential friends in North Carolina, Tennessee, Arkansas, Louisiana and Texas. The other slaveholding states, to wit, Maryland, Kentucky, and Missouri, gave little or no indication of a disposition to favor it. Early in the autumn of 1849 some of the first friends of the southern movement began to falter; and, as time advanced, they continued to recede from their bold stand in defence of the South. The secret influences which were at work to produce these unhappy results, will be found, I apprehend, elsewhere than in the places now pointed out. We are now told by some, that they discovered a better state of feeling at the North toward the South. Others pretend to have been convinced that the movement was premature, and calculated to embarrass the action of Congress; whilst a much more numerous, and a much more dishonest class, pretend to have discovered that this convention was to be nothing less than an assemblage of conspirators, treasonably bent on the destruction of the Union.

Whilst all this was going on, the sagacious politician and the man of thought did not fail to see the true reasons for all this infidelity to a once cherished and favorite measure. The truth was, that ambitious and aspiring politicians had discovered that the southern movement was distasteful to General Taylor, General Cass, and other distinguished gentlemen, then high in the confidence of their respective party friends. The movements in California began to develope the true policy of General Taylor, and the "Nicholson Letter" had received a new reading from General Cass. It became apparent that the South must be sacrificed, or party leaders repudiated, and party ties obliterated, and politicians had begun to take sides accordingly, when Congress assembled in December. Up to this time, however, there remained enough of southern influence to keep a powerful phalanx of southern men closely allied for common defence. The effort to organize the House of Representatives, made it manifest, that the South meant something more than an idle bravado in the course she had taken. For almost an entire month, the first successful step in the election of a Speaker had not been taken; and at last, when Mr. Cobb was chosen, it was by a plurality, and not, as usual, by a majority of the votes given. At this time, there was manifested the most determined spirit in defence of the rights of the South. Still, the close observer could not fail to see that the insidious spirit of party was busy at work.

President Taylor transmitted his annual message to Congress, and General Cass treated us to another reading of the "Nicholson Letter."

The President's message did not lift the curtain high enough to exhibit all that had been done in California. He gave us a bird's eye view, and told us to go it blind for the balance. He intimated that he had very little to do with the proceedings in California; yet he presented a paper which he denominated the constitution of California; and in two several communications, he pressed the consideration of that paper upon Congress, and he earnestly recommended the admission of the state of California into the Union at an early day.

These proceedings, and these earnest recommendations, could not fail to elicit a searching investigation on the part of southern members. It became a matter of interesting inquiry, as to who made the pretended constitution; how the people came to be assembled for that purpose; who appointed the time for holding the elections; who decided on the qualification of voters; who decided that California had the requisite population to entitle her to one or more representatives in Congress, without which she could not be a state. It was known that Congress had never so much as taken legal possession of the country, and it became a subject of anxious inquiry to know who it was that had kindly performed all the functions usually devolved on Congress; who it was that, in aid of the legislative power of the country, had taken the census to ascertain the population; had passed upon the qualification of voters; had appointed the time, place, and manner of holding elections; who it was, in short, that had done all that had usually been required preparatory to the admission of a new state into the Union.

It was seen at once that no census had been taken; and although the Constitution required that the representatives should be apportioned among the states according to population, no steps had been taken to ascertain whether California had the requisite population to entitle her to one member, whereas she was claiming two. It was seen that the time, place, and manner of holding the elections, had all been arranged by a military commander, notwithstanding the Constitution required that this should be done by law. It was seen, and admitted on all hands, that California was asking admission on terms wholly and entirely different from those on which other states had made similar applications. Gentlemen favoring her admission, were wont to answer our objections with a shrug of the shoulders, and a lamb-like declaration that "there had been some irregularity." Irregularities, fellow-citizens! Shall conduct like this, pass with that simple and mild expression that it was "irregular?" Was it nothing more than irregular to dispense entirely with taking a census? Was it only a little irregular to permit everybody to vote-white, black, and red; citizens, strangers, and foreigners? Was it simply irregular for General Riley, by a military proclamation, to decide the time, place, and manner of holding the elections? Was it, I ask you, fellow-citizens, nothing more than an irregular proceeding, for a military commander to dispense entirely with the authority of Congress, the law-making power, and of his own will to set up a government hostile to the interests and rights of the Southern States of this Union? If the rights and interests of all the states had been respected, and all had concurred in the opinion that the proceeding had only been a little irregular, it might have been passed over with a mental protest against a recurrence of its like in future.

But when it is seen that these "irregularities" amount to a positive outrage upon fourteen states of the Union, an outrage against which these states earnestly protested, it becomes us to inquire more seriously into the causes which led to their perpetration, and to take such decisive measures as shall protect us against like "irregularities" in future. Does any man doubt that slavery prohibition lay at the bottom of all the "irregularities" in California?

Does not every one know, that but for the question of slavery, these unprecedented outrages would never have been perpetrated? Is there a gentleman outside of a lunatic asylum who does not know that if California had framed a pro-slavery instead of an anti-slavery constitution, her application for admission into the Union would have been instantaneously rejected? And yet, in view of all these and a thousand other pregnant facts, we are expected to content ourselves with a simple declaration that "the proceeding was a little irregular, but it was the best that could be done." What, fellow-citizens, does this whole matter amount to, as it now presents itself? The southern people joined heart and hand in the acquisition of territory-shed their blood-laid down their lives-expended their treasure in making the acquisition, and forthwith the federal authority was employed to exclude them from all participation in the common gain. The threat was uttered, and kept constantly hanging over them, that if they dared enter those territories with their slave property, it would be taken from them. Thus were they intimidated and kept out of the country; no slave-owner would start to California with his slave property, when Congress was day by day threatening to emancipate his negroes, if he dared to introduce them into that country. Not content with thus intimidating southern property, the federal power was employed in instigating an unauthorized people to do that which the Congress of the United States had not the power to do, to wit, to pass the "Wilmot proviso."

It is well known that the California constitution contains the "Wilmot proviso" in terms. It is equally well know that this proviso has been sanctioned by Congress, and that the sanction of Congress imparts to it its only vitality. Without that sanction, it is a nullity, a dead letter, an absolute nought. Who, then, is responsible for it but Congress-the Congress which gave to it its sanction, and thereby imparted to it vitality, and moved it into action? Congress, we are told, could not, and dared not pass the proviso; but the people of California could propose it, and Congress could sanction it, and thereby give it existence. The people of Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, and other states, might ask Congress to pass the "Wilmot proviso," but Congress dare not do it, because there was no power under the Constitution to authorize it; but if the people of California asked it, then it was a very different question-then Congress had all the constitutional power which the case required. Let the truth be told. The Wilmot proviso was an old question; it had been discussed-its enormity had been exposed, and the mind of the South was firmly and fixedly made up not to submit to its passage. It was necessary, therefore, to take this new track, and before the South could recover from her surprise, pass the odious proviso, and then present the naked issue of a humiliating submission on the one side, or disunion on the other.

Who, fellow-citizens, were these people of California, whose voice has been so potential in the work of your exclusion, your humiliation, and your disgrace? — were they American citizens? No, sir, no! they were adventurers from all parts of the world. In this blood-bought country may have been found the Sandwich Islander, the Chinese, the European of every kingdom and country. That there were many American citizens in the country, is most true; but the whole were mixed up together, and all voted in the work of your exclusion. How humiliating to a Southron, to see his own government thus taking sides against him, and standing guard, while foreign adventurers vote to take from him his rights, and then to see that government seizing hold of such a vote and holding it up as a justification of the final act of his ignominious exclusion. Can any true son of the once proud and noble South witness these things without a blush? Does patriotism require us to hug these outrages to our bosom? Must we forget our natural interests, and kiss the hand that inflicts these cruel blows? Have we sunk so low that we dare not complain of wrongs like these, lest the cry of disunion shall be rung in our ears?

It would have been some consolation to know that the framers of this California constitution meant to live under it themselves. Even this little boon is denied us. We all know that the men who have gone to California are mere sojourners there; they mean to stay a little while, and then return to their homes in other parts of the world. Hundreds and thousands have already left the country, and others will follow their example. Not one-half of the persons who aided in the formation of the so-called constitution of California are there now; and in a year or two more the population will have undergone an entire revolution.

We have heard that there were many hundred thousand people in California. The number in the country at the time the constitution was framed has been estimated at two hundred thousand or more, and this has been constantly urged in excuse for their assumption of the right to make a constitution and set up an independent state government.

When asked by what authority a few interlopers from abroad undertook to snatch from the rightful owners the rich gold mines on the Pacific, and to appropriate to free soil all that vast territory lying between the thirty-second and forty-second degrees of north latitude-embracing an area larger than the states of Louisiana, Mississippi, Tennessee, and Alabama-we have been told they were a great and growing people; that there were a quarter of a million of inhabitants in the country, and hundreds of thousands on their way there. Let us examine the truth of these bold assertions. If there is any country on earth where there are no women and children, where the whole population consists of full-grown men, that country is California. We all know that the emigration has been confined to the adult male population, who have gone on a visit of observation, leaving their families and friends behind, and intending to return. We all know that in the matter of voting there was no restriction; every male inhabitant over the age of twenty-one years was allowed to vote, and on the important question of adopting a state constitution, the poll-books showed less than thirteen thousand voters. If there was a quarter of a million of people in the country, how shall we account for this meagre vote? The fact is, this is but another link in the great chain of deception and fraud by which we have been denied our rights n the country-by which we and our posterity have been cheated out of the most valuable property on earth-by which we have been reduced to the sad alternative of submitting to the most humiliating deprivation of our rights, or driven to a severance of the bonds which unite us to the North.

If the gross injustice, the deep injury and wrong which we are called upon to suffer, had ceased with the consummation of this California fraud, we might have bent our heads in humiliation and in sorrow, and, without daring to complain of the tyranny of our oppressors, have borne it in silence. But it did not stop here. The cup of our degradation was not quite full to overflowing; and it was determined to wrest from the slaveholding state of Texas, one-third of her rightful territory. In the perpetration of this fraud the North had two powerful allies, and both, I am pained to say, furnished by the South. One was the ten millions of dollars taken from a common treasury, and the other the vote of one-half the southern delegation in Congress.

I hold in my hand a map of Texas. It speaks more eloquently in defence of Texas than the ablest orator has ever yet spoken. Here on this map is the boundary of Texas, as marked first by her sword, and then made legible by the act of her Legislature in December, 1836. See, it extends from the mouth of the Rio Grande to the source of that river, and it reaches to the forty-second degree of north latitude. Here, too, is marked on this map the "Clay compromise line," and the" line of adjustment," as laid down in the final act of dismemberment, commonly known as Pearce's bill. Keep these lines in your memory, fellow citizens, while we recur for one moment to the history of the reannexation of Texas to the United States.

What is that history? I need not relate the whole of it. I need not say how like an ardent lover we wooed and won this fair daughter of the Saxon blood. Texas was young, blooming, and independent; we wooed her as the lover wooes his mistress. She fell into our arms, and with rapturous hearts we took her for better or for worse. Fathers Clay and Van Buren forbade the bans; but the people cried, with a loud voice, "Let the marriage go on." It did go on; Texas merged her separate independence into that of the United States, and here in my hands is the marriage contract. Here is the treaty, here the resolution of annexation. It will be seen that we took her just as she was just as she presented herself. We took that Texas which lay east of the Rio Grande, and all along that river from its mouth to its source, and south of the 42d parallel of latitude north. We took the Texas which was defined by the act of December, 1836; we took the Texas marked on this map. I hold it up before you. It is a portrait of the fair damsel as she was, before her limbs were amputated by the northern doctors, aided by surgeons Clay, Pearce, Foote, and others from the South.

Turn to the resolutions of annexation. I hold them here; without pausing to read them, I will state what no man can deny. They expressly stipulate, that all that part of Texas lying south of the parallel of 36 degrees and 30 minutes north latitude, shall remain slave territory; and all north shall be free territory after its admission into the Union as states. With this written agreement between the high contracting parties, how can any man come forward and say that Texas never extended to the parallel of 361 degrees? How dare any man pretend that Texas did not extend north of that line and up to 42 degrees? I will not insult your understanding by debating so palpable a proposition before you. It is as clear as the sun in yonder heavens, that at the period of annexation, the whole country supposed we were acquiring all the territory east of the Rio Grande, and up to 42 degrees. The only party on earth who expressed a doubt on this point was Mexico, and for acting on her expressed doubts, we went to war with her, all parties in this country at least uniting in the war; and when we had whipped her, and obtained not only her recognition of the Texas boundary, but a cession of New Mexico and California, into the bargain, what do we hear? Why, that Texas never owned one foot of territory north of 36 degrees. Though we agreed that all of Texas south of 364 should be slave territory, and all north of that line free territory, we are told that, in truth and in fact, Texas only extended to some undetermined point between 32 and 34 degrees of latitude north. Why do men thus stultify themselves? Why do men speak and attempt to reason for the purpose of throwing a cloud over the title of Texas to this territory? Need I tell you, fellow-citizens, that slavery! slavery!! slavery!!! and nothing but slavery, is at the bottom of all this business.

Take the question of domestic slavery out of the way, and this whole dispute about the true boundary of Texas could and would have been settled in nine hours, and in a manner most satisfactory to all parties. It was precisely because Texas was a slaveholding state, and her soil slave soil, beyond all cavil or dispute, that it was found important by the North to cut these ninety-three thousand sections off and attach them to New Mexico. As a part of Texas it was secure to the South; as a part of New Mexico, the North had the power and the will to make it free soil. If Texas and New Mexico had both been free, or both slave states, there would have been little or no dispute about the true boundary between them. Texas is, and must ever remain, a slaveholding state; New Mexico, if not already free soil, is under the dominion of northern power, and will be made so in due season. In these facts will be found the only reason for the nine months' struggle in Congress on the question of boundary. The northern mind is fully made up that no more slave states shall be added to the Union. This is more distinctly announced than any other article in their political creed. We all know this. And let me ask you, fellow-citizens, if there is one man among you all, who supposes that northern politicians, resolved as they all are to limit the slave states to their present number, would be so ridiculously silly as to cut off ninety-three thousand square miles of slaveholding Texas for the purpose of making of it one or two additional slave states? The North has the power to do as she pleases, and no man in this country doubts that she will please to make free territory of these ninety-three thousand square miles which she has wrested from Texas, with the aid of ten millions of dollars and a large number of southern votes.

I shall never forget the hour when this measure of gross iniquity to the South passed the House of Representatives. On Wednesday we defeated it by forty-four majority; on Thursday we defeated it again by eight majority; on Friday they carried it over us by ten votes; and when the result was announced, there went up from the lobbies, from the galleries, and from the floor of the Hall of Representatives, one long, loud, wild, maniac yell of unbridled rejoicing-the South was prostrate, and Free Soil rejoiced. The South was degraded, fallen, and her enemies rioted. Ten millions of dollars had been flung to the hungry pack who hang like wolves around the treasury, and there was frantic joy in all their hearts and upon all their tongues. They assembled on the banks of the Potomac, and in utter defiance of every decent regard for the father of his country-they assembled under the very shade of the Washington monument and there fired a hundred guns. Thus did they, in manifestation of their wild rejoicing over the prostrate South, and their own clutching of the ten millions of dollars. Nor did they pause here, but with drums beating, fifes blowing, and banners streaming, they paraded the streets of Washington. They called out Mr. Clay, and he spoke to them; they called out Mr. Cobb, Mr. Douglas, Mr. Foote, and I know not who else, and they all spoke to them. It was a night of riot and revelry. The foul deed had been done, and when there should have been sorrow and mourning, there was ecstasy and the wild notes of untamed rejoicing.

I left the street, filled as it was with this motley crew of free negroes and half-clad boys, bankers, brokers, barbers and beggars, northern Free Soilers and southern patriots-ay, southern patriots-patriots whose affections had out-grown their country, and who had taken "all the world and the rest of mankind" into their tender keeping-I left it and them, and retired to my private chamber, there to brood over the sorrows of my stricken and fallen country. But I was not long left to myself and the sorrows of my country. We were summoned to yet another sacrifice. The South no longer had the power of resistance, and a generous foe would not have stricken her again. But the northern wolf had tasted blood. The southern shepherd was unfaithful to his flock, and another lamb was taken.

The slave trade in the District of Columbia was abolished. It was by this name they called the deed. It was more than this. It was an act to punish the intentions of masters and to emancipate their slaves. The bill declares that if slaves are brought to the District of Columbia for the purpose of being sold in said district, or anywhere else, they shall be free. The law does not punish the act of selling or offering to sell, but it punishes the intention to sell; and how, pray? Not by fining the master, or by sending him to prison, but by emancipating his slave. How this law is to operate in practice, I need not say. It is to all intents and purposes an act of abolition. Under it, men's intentions will be judged of by swift juries, by abolition juries, and their slaves set at liberty. Does any man doubt that abolition juries will be found in the District of Columbia, and in the city of Washington? There are in the district sixteen thousand free negroes, and twenty-three hundred slaves. Slavery is wearing out there, and to-day, fellow-citizens, I would as soon risk a New York or Philadelphia jury on a question involving slavery, as a Washington City jury. The people there are growing more and more hostile to this species of property every day, and I pity the master who has his intentions tried before a jury taken from among them.

These, fellow-citizens, are the healing measures-the measures of peace. This the vaunted adjustment of which so much has been said, and for the passage of which the cannon has been fired, the drums beat, fifes blown, banners displayed, and all the evidences of national rejoicing exhibited.

I cannot believe in the sincerity of these singular demonstrations. I cannot think that our ignominious exclusion from California affords

cause for joy. I cannot believe that the bill to punish a master's intention, by emancipating his slave, has sent joy to southern hearts. I do not believe that the dismemberment of Texas has filled the South with rejoicing. Men make up their minds to submit to wrong, and pride induces them to put the best possible face upon it. Men whose hearts are wrung with agony, will smile, because they are too proud to weep. Men, like boys, may whistle to keep their courage up. But when causes like these exist for mourning, it is useless to tell me that men with southern hearts rejoice-the thing is impossible.

I am told that Texas has not been dismembered. That in the kindest spirit, the United States has proposed to pay her ten millions of dollars, to relinquish her claim to the territory which has been annexed to New Mexico. Let us examine the sincerity of this statement. The United States, speaking through the Executive, and through Congress, says to Texas: We want this country, and we mean to have it; you are weak, and we are strong. Give up the country quietly, and we will pay you ten millions of dollars; refuse, and here is the army, the navy, and the militia." Look at the power of the United States; look at the threat of the President to reduce Texas to submission. Look at the conduct of southern senators and representatives. Look at all this, and then turn your eyes towards Texas; see her feeble and weak, without money, without arms; in debt, and without credit; and tell me if it is left to her free choice to determine whether she will accept or reject this proposition? The overgrown bully approaches a weak and feeble man, without friends and without the means of defence, and says, "I want your land; give it up quietly, and I will pay you for it, and if you refuse, bear in mind, I am stronger than you, and here are my guns, here my daggers, and there my armed servants to do my bidding. Choose what you will do." Will not every man's sense of justice revolt at conduct like this? Is the man thus treated, a free agent? In thus taking his property, has not an outrageous wrong, a positive robbery, been perpetrated? I leave it to the good sense of this audience to give the answer.

But we are told that Texas is to be liberally paid, and therefore, if she accepts the proposition and gives up the land, we have no just cause of complaint. I do not know what sum of money would be liberal compensation to a sovereign state for being despoiled of one-third of her territory. For myself, I would not consent to sell the poorest county in Mississippi to the Free-Soil party for all the gold on this side of the Atlantic. But when I hear of the liberality of this proposition, it leads me to inquire who pays the money. We can all afford to be liberal at the expense of other people. Do the Free-Soilers pay this ten millions of dollars? Not at all; they get the land, that's clear, and that we pay the greater part of the money is equally clear. The money is to be paid from the national treasury. I am not about to launch into any discussion of the finances, but I want to show who it is that must pay this ten millions of dollars to Texas. We derive our national revenue chiefly from a duty levied on goods imported into the country. Now, it will not be denied that these imports are nothing else than the proceeds of the exports. It is perfectly clear that if we cut off the exports, we suspend the imports. If we have nothing to sell, we shall have nothing to buy with, and consequently imports must cease; and if imports cease, revenue will cease. We shall export this year, in cotton alone, near one hundred millions of dollars in value; this will form the basis of one hundred millions of dollars in goods imported.

If the government levies a duty of thirty-five per cent. on these, her revenue from this source alone will be thirty-five millions of dollars. Now, suppose we abstract this cotton from the exports, do we not see that we cut off the imports to a like extent, and in cutting off the imports that we likewise cut off the revenue? But seeing all this, says one, I do not yet perceive that you have shown how it is that the cotton grower pays the revenue. Go with me, if you please, a little further. Suppose my friend who sits before me, and who raises five hundred bales of cotton, shall ship that cotton, and himself dispose of it in Liverpool for twenty-five thousand dollars. Suppose he invests the money in merchandise and lands it in New Orleans. The government charges him a duty of thirty-five per cent. for the privilege of landing his goods. Now answer me this question, would it have been any worse for my friend to have been charged thirty-five per cent. on the value of his cotton as he went out, with the privilege of bringing back his goods free of duty, than it would be to let him take his cotton free of charge and tax him thirty-five per cent. duty on the return cargo? For myself, I cannot see that it would make the least difference whether he paid as he went out, or as he came in. But I am told the planter does not bring back the proceeds of his cotton. He sells it, and the importing merchant brings back the proceeds and pays the duty. Let it be borne in mind that every man who handles the cotton, from the moment it leaves the planter until it comes back in the form of merchandise, handles it on speculation; and I should like to know which one of these speculators it is that loses the thirty-five per cent. which the government collects. The treasury receives the money; somebody pays it; and in my judgment, that somebody is the planter. The slaveholding states furnish two-thirds of our entire exports, and if I am right in this theory, they pay two-thirds of the revenue, and consequently will pay two-thirds, or nearly seven millions of the ten millions of dollars given to Texas for the territory of which she has been so unjustly despoiled.

I beg pardon for this digression, and shall return at once to the subject before us.

What compensation has been offered the South for her interest in all the vast territories derived from Mexico, for this spoliation of Texas, and the emancipation act in the District of Columbia? We are told that the North gave us the fugitive slave law. This, fellow-citizens, was our right under the Constitution. It could not be refused. No man who had sworn to support the Constitution could refuse to vote for an efficient law for the surrender of fugitive slaves, unless he was willing to commit wilful and deliberate perjury. I do not thank the North for passing the fugitive slave law. I will not thank any man or any power for doling out to me my constitutional rights. If the North will execute the law in good faith, I shall think better of them as brethren and friends than I now do. Time will determine whether they will do this.

These acts have passed. They are now on the statute books, and the question arises--shall we tamely submit to their operation, and if we resist, in what manner, and to what extent shall we carry that resistance? I am not appalled by the cry of disunion, so often and so foolishly raised, whenever resistance is spoken of. There are things more terrible to me than the phantom of disunion, and one of these is tame submission to outrageous wrong. If it has really come to this, that the Southern States dare not assert and maintain their equal position in the Union, for fear of dissolving the Union, than I am free to say that the Union ought to be dissolved. If the noble edifice, erected by our fathers, has become so rickety, worm-eaten, and decayed, that it is in danger of falling every time the Southern States assemble to ask for justice, then the sooner it is pulled down the better. I am not so wedded to the name of Union as to remain in it until it shall fall and crush me.

I have great confidence that the government may be brought back to its original purity. I have great confidence that the government will again be administered in subordination to the Constitution; that we shall be restored to our equal position in the confederacy, and that our rights will again be respected as they were from 1783 to 1819. This being done, I shall be satisfied-nothing short of this will satisfy me. I can never consent to take a subordinate position. By no act or word of mine shall the South ever be reduced to a state of dependence on the North. I will cling to the Union, and utter its praises with my last breath, but it must be a Union of equals; it must be a Union in which my state and my section is equal in rights to any other section or state. I will not consent that the South shall become the Ireland of this country. Better, far, that we dissolve our political connection with the North than live connected with her as her slaves or vassals. The fathers of the republic counselled us to live together in peace and concord, but these venerable sages and patriots never counselled us to surrender our equal position in the Union. By their lives, they gave us lessons in the hornbook of freedom. If Washington could speak to us to-day from the tomb, he would counsel us against submission. He resisted less flagrant acts of usurpation and tyranny, and took up arms against his king. The flatterers of royalty called this treason. If we resist the greater outrages, can we hope to escape the name of traitor?

Let me say to you, in all sincerity, fellow-citizens, that I am no disunionist. If I know my own heart, I am more concerned about the means of preserving the Union than I am about the means of destroying it. The danger is not that we shall dissolve the Union, by a bold and manly vindication of our rights; but rather that we shall, in abandoning our rights, abandon the Union also. So help me God, I believe the submissionists are the very worst enemies of the Union. There is certainly some point beyond which the most abject will refuse to submit. If we yield now, how long do you suppose it will be before we shall be called upon to submit again? And does not every human experience admonish us that the more we yield, the greater will become the exaction of the aggressors? To the man who thinks and says that we have been wronged, and yet submits in sullen silence, I can only say, you reason badly for the Union. But to the man who rejoices in the late action of Congress, who fires cannon, beats drums, and unfurls banners with mottoes of joy written on them to such a man I can say, with a heart filled with sorrow, however well meant these acts may be, they invite aggression on our rights, and will lead to certain and in inevitable disunion.

The best friend of the Union is he who stands boldly up and demands equal justice for every state and for all sections. If I have demanded more than this, convince me, and I will withdraw the demand. But I shall stand unawed by fear and unmoved by flattery in demanding for Mississippi the same justice that is meted out to the greatest and proudest state in the Confederacy.

If the Union cannot yield to this demand, I am against the Union. If the Constitution does not secure it, I am against the Constitution. I am for equal and exact justice, and against anything and everything which denies it.

This justice was denied us in the "adjustment bills" which passed Congress. But we are not to infer that the fault was either in the Union or in the Constitution. The Union is strength, and if not wickedly diverted from its purposes, will secure us that justice and that domestic tranquillity which is our birthright. The Constitution is our shield and our buckler, and needs only to be fairly administered to dispense equal and exact justice to all parts of this great Confederacy.

Has the South justice in California? Have her rights been respected in any part of the territories? Has she been fairly dealt with in the matter of the Texas boundary? Was good faith observed in the passage of the anti-slavery bill for the District of Columbia? Does the North exhibit a spirit of love, charity, good neighborhood, and brotherly kindness in the perpetual warfare which she wages on our property? Is the Union now what it was in 1783? Did our fathers frame a constitution and enter into a union which gave the right of aggression to one-half the states, and obliged the other half to submit without a murmur? Would Washington, and Jefferson, and Madison, have entered into such a union with Adams, and Hancock, and Jay? To all these questions there can be but one answer, we all know. Every thinking, reasoning man knows, that in the war upon slavery, the Constitution and the Union have been diverted from their original purposes. Instead of being shields against lawless tyranny, they have been made engines of oppression to the South. And am I, a southern citizen, to be deterred from saying so by this senseless cry of disunion? Am I to see my dearest rights taken from me, and my countrymen denied all participation in, or enjoyment of the common property, and be afraid to speak ? Must I witness the dismemberment of a southern state and a whole catalogue of wrongs, and fail to speak, lest the Union shall crumble and fall about my ears? I hope the Union is made of sterner stuff, but I am free to say, if the Union cannot withstand a demand for justice, I shall rejoice to see it fall.

I will demand my rights and the rights of my section, be the consequences what they may. It is the imperative duty of every good citizen to maintain and defend the Constitution and the Union, and this can only be done by demanding and enforcing justice. Let us make this demand and let us enforce it, and let the consequences rest on the heads of those who violate the Constitution and subvert the Union in this war upon justice, equality, and right.

We are told that our difficulties are at an end; that, unjust as we all know the late action of Congress to have been, it is better to submit, and especially is it better, since this is to be the end of the slavery agitation. If this were the end, fellow-citizens, I might debate the question as to whether submission would not be the better policy. Such is my love of peace, such my almost superstitious reverence for the Union, that I might be willing to submit if this was to be the end of our troubles. But I know it is not to be the end. I know it has not been the end thus far. What have we seen? On the passage of all these bills through Congress, the North stood shocked and overawed at the enormity of the wrong done the South; but Washington city rejoiced, Baltimore rejoiced, Richmond rejoiced. Instead of the thunder notes of resistance coming back upon the capitol, we were greeted with songs and shouts, and the merry peals of hearts filled with joy. Seward, the abolition senator from New York, encouraged by these indications, introduced a bill to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia. It got only five votes. The North had not yet recovered from the shock which a glance at her own bold work had inflicted on her. After a few more days, the news of rejoicing at Louisville, at Augusta, and Nashville, came rolling back upon the wings of the lightning, and Seward asked another vote, and the result was nine in the affirmative. The cautious Dayton, and the still more cunning Winthrop, and men of that class, all the while protesting that it was yet too soon to urge that measure. They saw and knew full well that the firing of cannon and beating of drums were empty signs. They judged rightly, that no people rejoice in heart at their own degradation. But this rejoicing still went on; they fired the cannon, and beat the drums, and flung out their banners all over the South-at Natchez and New Orleans, at Mobile and at Jackson, at Memphis and Montgomery. Not only were the Giddingses and the Sewards, the Chases, Hales, and Kings, and all the enemies of the South, thus assured that there would be no resistance, but, in the echo of the booming cannon and in the shrill notes of the merry fife, they were assured that the South was filled with rejoicings and merry songs. What was the effect of all this? Why, fellow-citizens, the vote was taken in the House on the bill to abolish slavery out-and-out in the District of Columbia, and it got fifty-two votes, and there were twenty-nine of its friends absent the largest vote ever given in Congress on the direct proposition. Look at these things. Look to the fugitive slave law in New York, Massachusetts, Ohio, and elsewhere. Look to the late extraordinary triumph of Seward in New York. Look to the success of the Free Soilers in the late elections. Listen to the notes of preparation everywhere in the Northern States, and tell me if men do not wilfully deceive you when they say that the slavery agitation is over. I tell you, fellow-citizens, it is not over. It never will be over so long as you continue to recede before the pressure of northern power. You cannot secure your rights; you cannot save the Union or the Constitution, by following the timid counsels of the submissionists. Pursue these counsels, and they will lead to a sacrifice of all that we hold dear-of life, liberty, property, and the Union itself. By a submission you may secure, not a union, but a connection with the North. It will be such a connection as exists between Ireland and England, Poland and Russia, Hungary and Austria. It will not, it cannot be the Union of our fathers-it cannot be a union of equals.

You can save the Union, fellow-citizens, and you can do it by a stern resistance to wrong.

I have seen the Free Soil elephant of the North. He is governed by the instincts of his species. He never crosses a bridge without first pressing it with his foot to see if it will sustain his ponderous frame. Make the bridge strong, and he will cross; but let it be weak, and he will stay on his own side. If you want this Free-Soil elephant among you, make the bridge strong, give him assurance of submission, convince him that he may pass the gulf that divides you in safety, and he will come among you and destroy you. If you would keep him out, show him the yawning chasm, and convince him that if he attempts to cross he will be precipitated to the bottom, and, my life upon it, he will be content to remain at home.

The North will inflict all that the South will bear, even to a final emancipation of the negro race. She will inflict nothing that you will not bear.

I am detaining you, fellow-citizens, beyond the time which I allotted to myself; allow me to bring these remarks to a close.

I am for resistance. I am for that sort of resistance which shall be effective and final. Speaking to you as a private citizen, I shall not hesitate to express my individual opinions freely and fearlessly as to the best mode of resistance. I do not ask-I do not expect any one to adopt my opinions. They are the result of my own best reflections, and they will not be abandoned, except to embrace others more likely to prove effective in practice.

I approve of the governor's convocation of the legislature. The measure was called for by the emergencies of the hour, and was, in my judgment, eminently wise and proper.

I trust the legislature will order a convention of the state. Give the people a chance to speak. Let the voice of the sovereign state be heard speaking through a regularly-organized convention, and it will command respect. Our bane has been our divisions. We never can unite as one man-our people are too much imbued with the early prejudices of their native homes. Congregated from all the states of the Union, and from many foreign countries, they never can unite on one common platform. But the majority can speak, and if that majority speaks through a convention legally elected, its voice will silence dissension. It will be the voice of a sovereignty-it will command respect.

What if three-fourths of the people of Mississippi are for resistance, the other fourth makes as loud a noise, and their voice sounds as large in New York or Massachusetts. What if five-sixths of your delegation in Congress have spoken the sentiment of the state, the other sixth has protested that he speaks the voice of the state. Let the people speak! Let them speak through the ballot-box. Let a convention be called, and through that convention, let us speak the sentiments of the sovereign state.

I should hope that such a movement in Mississippi would be responded to in most, if not all the Southern States. I should have great confidence that South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Florida, would meet us on a common platform, and resolve with us to stand or fall together.

I speak with great deference, but with the utmost freedom as to what course Mississippi and the other states should pursue. I speak for myself alone, and no man or party is in any way responsible for what I say.

We should demand a restoration of the laws of Texas in hæc verba over the country which has been taken from her and added to New Mexico. In other words, we should demand the clear and undisputed right to carry our slave property to that country, and have it protected and secured to us after we get it there; and we should demand a continuation of this right and of this security and protection.

We should demand the same right to go into all the territories with our slave property, that citizens of the free states have to go with any species of property, and we should demand for our property the same protection that is given to the property of our northern brethren. No more, nor less.

We should demand that Congress abstain from all interference with slavery in the territories, in the District of Columbia, in the states, on the high seas, or anywhere else, except to give it protection, and this protection should be the same that is given to other property.

We should demand a continuation of the present fugitive slave law, or some other law which should be effective in carrying out the mandate of the Constitution for the delivery of fugitive slaves.

We should demand that no state be denied admission into the Union, because her constitution tolerated slavery.

In all this we should ask nothing but meagre justice; and a refusal to grant such reasonable demands would show a fixed and settled purpose in the North to oppress and finally destroy the Southern States. If the demands here set forth, and such others as would most effectually secure the South against further disturbance, should be denied, and that denial should be manifested by any act of the Federal Government, we ought forthwith to dissolve all political connection with the Northern States.

If the Southern States, in convention, will lay down this or some other platform equally broad and substantial, and plant themselves upon it, I know there are hundreds and thousands of good men and true at the North, who will take positions with them, and stand by them to the last. In the present condition of our counsels, we can never expect support from the North. Distracted and divided at home and in Congress, those at the North who are disposed to aid us, are left in doubt as to which is the true southern side of the question. Suppose Mr. Dallas, Mr. Paulding, or some other friend of the South, should undertake our defence, would he not be met with language like this: "Look at Clay, look at Benton, look at Houston, look at hundreds in the South-listen to the roar of their cannon and the music of their drums, and do you, sir, pretend to know more of southern rights than the South knows of her own rights." What could our northern friends say to a speech like this? No, fellow-citizens, no! Do not place your friends at the North in this condition. Erect a platform on which they may stand and fight your battles for you. When the Free-Soiler points to the Clays, the Bentons, the Houstons, and others, enable your friends to point to Mississippi and Georgia, and Alabama, and South Carolina, assembled in conventions. And when the Free-Soiler appeals to the cannon roaring and the drums beating, let your friends appeal to the voice of sovereign states demanding justice, equality, and liberty on the one side, or disunion on the other.

If I hesitate to embrace the doctrine of disunion, it is because the North has, to some extent, been inveigled into her present hostile position towards the South by our own unfaithful representatives, and encouraged to persevere in the mad policy by the ill-advised conduct of some of our own people. A portion of the southern senators and representatives voted for the admission of California, and large numbers sustained the Texas spoliation bill. The whole advantages of these measures inured to the benefit of the North, and we could not reasonably expect northern men to do more for us than our own representatives. We have great reason to complain of the North, but we have much greater reason to complain of our own unfaithful servants. The North is deceived as to the true condition of southern sentiment, but they have been deceived by our own people. Let us undeceive them. Let us prepare to strike for justice, equality, liberty. But let us first give fair warning, and let that warning be given in an authentic and authoritative form. Let us do this, and if then we are forced to strike, we shall be sustained by all good men, we shall be sustained by God, and our own clear consciences.

These are my opinions, fellow-citizens, freely expressed. I do not ask you to sanction them or to adopt them as your own, unless you approve them. I have but one motive, and that is to serve my afflicted country. Wholly and entirely southern in my sentiments and feelings, I have never debated with myself what course it were best for me to pursue. Ambition might have led me to the North, but as I loved the land of my birth more than the honors and emoluments of power and of place, I have taken sides with the South. Her destiny shall be my destiny. If she stands, I will stand by her, and if she falls, I will fall with her.

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. 246-61