The party battles of the Jackson period

by Claude G. Bowers

VI

To describe Lewis Cass as an American politician would be damning with faint praise, for he was something infinitely more and greater—he was an empire-builder of the company of Clive and Rhodes, one of the most robust figures in American history. His first remembered view of the world was that of being held in his mother’s arms, and looking out the windows of his New Hampshire home upon the bonfires blazing in celebration of the ratification of the Constitution. Crossing the Alleghanies on foot, with a knap-sack on his back, sleeping beneath the stars, his Americanism had expanded in the contemplation of the magnitude of the Republic. Riding the circuit, as Western lawyers did in those days, he was a witness of the stubborn battles against the wilderness, and he had enough imagination to see, in the rough men wielding axes, Homeric figures. And it was while pursuing his lonely way through the virgin forests of Ohio that he found time for the assimilation of his reading and learned to be the independent and courageous thinker he became.

He had established a sound reputation at the bar, when the War of 1812 added that of a gallant and brilliant soldier. To him especially are we indebted for the shameful story of Hull’s cowardly surrender of Detroit—an act so maddening that Cass broke his sword in protest. But his reputation as lawyer and soldier pales by comparison with the reputation he was to make as an empire-builder.

Never was a ruler confronted by more disheartening difficulties than Cass, when, in 1813, he became the civil Governor of Michigan. For two years he was forced to battle against anarchy and famine. Organized society was demoralized. The country was disorganized. The savages had driven away the cattle of the settlers, and the French especially were in desperate straits. The war-whoops of the red men had so terrorized the people that they were afraid to settle down to the cultivation of the land. The morale of the Territory was pathetically low. And Cass, with the empire-builder’s decision and genius, instantly formed his plan to combat the threatened disintegration. The people had to be fed—he fed them from the public stores, drew upon the Government for further assistance, personally directed the battle against famine—and won. The confidence of the people had to be restored as a preliminary to progress—he determined to restore it by demonstrating his mastery of the savages. Organizing the young men, he personally led them against the Indians in a bloody skirmish—and won. He repeated it—and won. Again—and won. And thus the terror of the people passed, and they returned to their homes.

He then turned to the organization of civil government. Courts were created, civil officers selected, territorial divisions established, new counties were carved, and he began an elaborate policy of road-building and internal improvements. One of his first acts was to establish a school system, and to encourage the building of churches with the assurance of religious liberty.

This accomplished, he turned with his usual zeal to the Americanizing of the people, many of whom were French, and to encouraging the migration of colonists. Knowing the industry and energy of his native New England, he planned to draw immigrants from that section hoping that the French would learn by their success to emulate their example. But here he had another battle to overcome the general notion of the Eastern States that the land of Michigan was valueless. In time he succeeded.

And then he found time to challenge the right of the British across the border to interfere in the affairs of the Territory. In those days Michigan was only a Territory on the outskirts, and it was easier for the National Government to ignore insults than to challenge a mighty empire by protesting against them. As late as 1816 vessels were stopped on their way to Detroit and searched by British agents. Cass, with lawyer-like care, collected his evidence, transmitted it to Washington, vigorously protested to the British authorities—and won.[334]

Nowhere, perhaps, does his vision as an empire-builder, shine more luminously than in his letter to Calhoun, Secretary of War, proposing a scientific expedition in 1819, under the sanction and with the coöperation of the Federal Government.[335] This was the programme of a statesman. And he asked for experts for the expedition—engineers, zoölogists, botanists, mineralogists. Determining to accompany the expedition, it is interesting to note the sagacity of the reason he assigns: “I think it very important to carry the flag of the United States into those remote sections where it has never been borne by any one in public station.” This was the most important expedition ever undertaken by the American Government up to that time, and was so regarded by the press of the period.

If we add to this, his successful negotiations of treaties with the Indians under dramatic circumstances, we have the work and record of “The Father of the West”—empire-builder from 1813 until he entered the Cabinet of Jackson in 1831.

And this man of action, fighting life-and-death battles on the fringe of civilization, found time for the gratification of literary tastes. Here he suggests the Roosevelt of a much later day. When starting forth on an expedition into the wilderness, it was his custom to supply himself with a small library for his entertainment while floating in canoes on the rivers or the lakes. His articles in later years disclose the scholar.[336] Just before entering the Cabinet he had delivered a scholarly address at Hamilton College which has been preserved in a number of the popular collections of orations.[337]