Perley's reminiscences of sixty years in the national metropolis, v. 1-2

by Benjamin Perley Poore

The Southern Whigs who had opposed Mr. Winthrop were vehement and passionate in their denunciation of the North. "The time has come," said Mr. Toombs, his black, uncombed hair standing out from his massive head, as if charged with electricity, his eyes glowing like coals of fire, and his sentences rattling forth like volleys of musketry—"the time has come," said he, "when I shall not only utter my opinions, but make them the basis of my political action here. I do not, then, hesitate to avow before this House and the country, and in the presence of the living God, that if, by your legislation, you seek to drive us from the Territories of California and New Mexico, and to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia, I am for disunion; and if my physical courage be equal to the maintenance of my convictions of right and duty, I will devote all I am and all I have on earth to its consummation."

Such inflammatory remarks provoked replies, and after a heated debate Mr. Duer, of New York, remarked that he "would never, under any circumstances, vote to put a man in the Speaker's chair who would, in any event, advocate or sanction a dissolution of the Union." This brought a dozen Southerners to their feet, with angry exclamations, and Mr. Bayly, of Virginia, who was near Mr. Duer, said "There are no disunionists." "There are!" exclaimed Mr. Duer. "Name one!" shouted Mr. Bayly. At that moment Mr. Meade, of Virginia, rose and passed directly before Mr. Duer, who pointed to him and shouted, "There's one!" "It is false!" replied Mr. Meade, angrily. "You lie, sir!" responded Mr. Duer, in tones which rang through the hall; and, drawing himself up, he stood unmoved, while his political friends and foes clustered angrily about him, every man of them talking and gesticulating most furiously.

Fortunately, Mr. Nathan Sergeant (known as a newspaper correspondent over the signature of Oliver Oldschool), who was the Sergeant-at- Arms of the House, was in his seat at the Speaker's right hand. Seizing the "mace," which represents the Roman fasces, or bundle of rods, bound by silver bands and surmounted by an eagle with outstretched wings, which is the symbol of the authority of the House, he hastened to Mr. Duer and stood at his side, as if to protect him. His official interposition was immediately respected by all concerned in the disorder, and even the most tumultuous began at once to subside, so that no forcible measures were needed to prevent further violence.

Quiet was restored, and the excited Representatives, one by one, obeyed the sharp raps of the Speaker's gavel, accompanied by the peremptory order, "Gentlemen will take their seats." Mr. Duer, who had recovered his usual composure, then addressed the Chair, and having been recognized, apologized to the House for having been provoked into the use of the unparliamentary expression, but justified himself by referring to a speech which Mr. Meade had just made and printed, which contained disunion sentiments. Mr. Meade promptly challenged Mr. Duer, who showed no indisposition to fight, but with some difficulty friends secured an amicable settlement of the quarrel.

Finally, after three weeks of angry recriminations, it was voted that a plurality should elect, and on the sixty-second ballot Mr. Howell Cobb, of Georgia, having received one hundred and two votes against one hundred votes for Mr. Winthrop, was declared the Speaker of the House. He did not have that sense of personal dignity and importance which belonged to Sir John Falstaff by reason of his knighthood, but he displayed the same rich exuberance of animal enjoyment, the same roguish twinkle of the eye, and the same indolence which characterized the fat Knight.

President Taylor's first and only message to Congress was transmitted on the Monday following the organization of the House, December 24th, and the printed copies first distributed contained the sentence, "We are at peace with all the nations of the world and the rest of mankind." A revised edition was soon printed, in which the corrected sentence read, "We are at peace with all the nations of the world, and seek to maintain our cherished relations of amity with them." The blunder caused much diversion among the Democrats, and greatly annoyed Colonel Bliss, who, as the President's private secretary, had superintended the publication of the message. The message contained no allusion to the slavery question, but the President had declared himself in favor of the untrammeled admission of California into the Union, while, on the other hand, he did not approve the "higher law" doctrine which Mr. Seward was advocating as a nucleus for a new political party in the North.

Meanwhile, Henry Clay had reappeared at Washington as a Senator from Kentucky, and occupied his old quarters at the National Hotel, a large stockholder in which, Mr. Calvert, of Maryland, was one of Clay's many friends. Although in his seventy-third year, Mr. Clay was apparently hale and hearty, but showed his age. His head, bald on the top, was fringed with long, iron-gray hair, his cheeks were somewhat sunken, his nose had a pinched look, but his wide mouth was, as in years past, wreathed in genial smiles. He always was dressed in black, and from a high black satin stock, which enveloped his long neck, emerged a huge white shirt collar, which reached to his ears. He mingled in society, generally kissed the prettiest girls wherever he went, and enjoyed a quiet game of cards in his own room, with a glass of toddy made from Bourbon County whisky.

At the commencement of the session Mr. Clay requested that he might be excused from service on any of the standing committees of the Senate, and his wish was granted. It was not long, however, before he evinced a desire to re-enter the arena of debate as a leader of the Whig party, but not as a follower of President Taylor. Presenting a series of resolutions which would consolidate the settlement of the eight different questions involving slavery, then before Congress, into what he expected would prove a lasting compromise, he moved their reference to a select committee of thirteen, with instructions to report them in one bill. The Committee was authorized, but not without opposition, and Mr. Webster's vote secured for Mr. Clay the chairmanship. A general compromise bill was speedily prepared, and the "battle of the giants" was recommenced, Clay, Webster, and Calhoun engaging for the last time in a gladitorial strife, which exhibited the off-hand genial eloquence of the Kentuckian, the ponderous strength of the Massachusetts Senator, and the concentrated energies of South Carolina's favorite son. Mr. Clay was the leader in the debate, which extended over seven months, and during that time he was ever on the alert, sometimes delivering a long argument, sometimes eloquently replying to other Senators, and sometimes suggesting points to some one who was to speak on his side. Indignant at the treatment which he had received from the Whig party he stood unsubdued, and so far from retreating from those who had deserted him, he intended to make the Taylor Administration recall its pledges, break its promises, and become national, or pro-slavery, Whigs.

Mr. Webster was equally grieved and saddened by the faithlessness of Massachusetts men who had in years past professed friendship for him, but of whose machinations against him he had obtained proof during the preceding autumn. He also ascertained that, to use the words of Mr. Choate, "the attention of the public mind began to be drawn a little more directly to the great question of human freedom and human slavery." If he responded to the beatings of the New England heart, and resisted the aggressions and usurpations of the slave power, he would have to follow the lead of the Abolitionists, for whom he had always expressed a profound contempt. Dejected and depressed, Mr. Webster would at that time have been glad to take the mission to England, and thus terminate his career of public service; but he was defeated by the claims of Mr. Abbott Lawrence, who, having been recently disappointed in not receiving the appointment of Secretary of the Treasury, refused to be comforted unless he could be the successor of George Bancroft at the Court of St. James.

Thaddeus Stevens and Joshua R. Giddings asserted, after the decease of Mr. Webster, that he prepared a speech, the manuscript of which they had read, which was a powerful exposition and vindication of Northern sentiment upon the compromise measures, especially the fugitive-slave bill. If this was true, he was doubtless induced to "change front" by pledges of Southern support for the Presidency; but he is reported by Theodore Parker as having said to a fellow Senator, on the morning of the 7th of March, "I have my doubts that the speech I am going to make will ruin me." He should have remembered that he himself said of the Emperor Napoleon, "His victories and his triumphs crumbled to atoms, and moldered to dry ashes in his grasp, because he violated the general sense of justice of mankind."