The fight began over the reference of the Taney report and Polk’s motion that it be referred to his committee. In explaining his reasons the latter avowed a purpose to investigate the Bank, and the forces rushed into action. “Why investigate,” cried McDuffie, “when admissions would be made without an investigation?” Had Bank money been used in the campaign? Admitted! “State your sum,” he shouted, “fifty, sixty, or a hundred thousand.” The Congress had named a depository for the public money; it had been removed; it must be restored—that was the subject for debate.[738] Binney immediately arose to supplement McDuffie’s suggestion. “What is the object of the inquiry asked for?” he demanded. “Is it to suggest reasons for the Secretary’s act ...? If you bring in other facts, other judgments, other reasons, you annul the judgment of the Secretary, agree that it was wrong, and assume to exercise an original instead of a derivative power.” If Taney had acted on sufficient reasons, “it was for the House, on behalf of the people, to pronounce their judgment; and if they were sufficient, then there was an end to the question.” More: “What knowledge have we of the condition of the banks selected by the Government?”

The State banks not safe? Polk retorted. Very well, “this constitutes one of the chief objects of the investigation proposed.” A “question of public faith?” as Binney had hinted. “Is it not proper, then,” asked Polk, “for a committee ... to inquire by which party the contract was violated?” And only to inquire into the sufficiency of Taney’s reasons? Why, “some of the reasons given may involve the charter of the Bank.”[739]

After a week of wrangling, the Administration won on the reference, but the moment the vote was announced, McDuffie moved instructions to the committee to report a joint resolution providing for the depositing of all revenues thereafter collected in the Bank of the United States—and this was the peg on which the main discussion hung.

The impetuous McDuffie was the first to rush into the arena. His was a bitter, brilliant excoriation of Jackson, a fulsome glorification of the Bank, and he thundered on for two days,[740] impassioned, in a state of constant volcanic eruption, but little more than “a fierce attack upon the President.”[741] One week later Polk consumed two days in a reply which, in its moderation of tone and language and its argumentative character, was in striking contrast to that of the vituperative Carolinian. Defending in detail the position of Jackson, discussing the legal and constitutional phases, citing precedents and authorities, he built up a case for the Administration which could not have been other than impressive in view of the attempt of most of the Bank’s champions to answer him.[742] Another week elapsed before Horace Binney rose to reply, in a masterpiece of parliamentary oratory. In musically flowing sentences he described the prosperity preceding the attack upon the Bank, the nature of the currency and credit, the effect of the shaking of confidence, the necessity for the Bank’s curtailments, and argued that “the control of the public deposits is inherent in the Congress.” But had the Bank been charged with exercising political power? “Granted—granted—the charge is granted, but the Bank has not succeeded in this exercise of political power.... The late election proves that it did not succeed. The force of array, legislative and executive, is against the Bank; and it did not succeed. The act of removal was not, therefore, an imperative and retributive act; but an act of malignant dye—an act vindictive.” In all his historical researches he knew of only one instance where a charter had been destroyed “on the alleged ground of the assumption of political power.” That was in the reign of Charles II, when, on that ground, he obtained possession of the charter of London. “But it was restored when constitutional liberty dawned.” Thus he approached his conclusion—a demand for the immediate restoration of the deposits, and, speaking with a rapidity that the reporter could not follow, launched upon his peroration, with the plea that the question be not considered in the spirit of party, but “rather as one affecting the general interest of the community; as one involving the integrity of the Constitution, the stability of contracts, and the permanence of free government; as a question involving public faith, national existence, and the honor and integrity of the country, at home and abroad.”[743]

Thus, refraining from personalities, and frowning upon the party aspect of the controversy, the most clever of the Bank’s champions, speaking with the cunning of the proverbial “Philadelphia lawyer,” attempted, too late, to undo the work Clay had done to serve a selfish end. The night after the conclusion of the speech found him at the White House, one of numerous guests, and Jackson sought him, devoted himself to him with an embarrassing assiduity, and thanked him for advocating his cause without indulgence in personal abuse.

But it was not every Philadelphia lawyer that was to be looked upon so kindly in Jacksonian circles. In the midst of the struggle in the House a series of Bank articles began to appear in the “National Gazette” over the signature of “Vindex.” It was just at the time Joseph Hopkinson, the Federal Judge for eastern Pennsylvania, began to haunt the floor and lobby of the House—a privilege he enjoyed by virtue of previous membership in that body. His activity among the members became so open as to create comment, and the “National Gazette” made a laborious attempt to explain his presence. It was a purely social visit. He had come on the invitation of the Judges of the Supreme Court. It was natural that he should delight in renewing old friendships. This explanation gave Blair his opportunity, in a column editorial, to assail the Philadelphia jurist as a lobbyist, to insist that he had disqualified himself to sit on any Bank case, and to challenge the “National Gazette” to deny that he was the author of the “Vindex” articles.

“But further we would inquire,” wrote Blair, “whether the judge is not a debtor of the Bank as well as its anonymous vindicator? We believe he is—and it is difficult to say whether the judge’s extreme solicitude and activity in behalf of the Bank arises from its pecuniary favors, the bonds of family affection which bind him to Mr. Biddle, his son having married Mr. Biddle’s sister, or the old Federal feeling which always distinguished him, and which inclined him against his country during the last war, and prompted his speech after its close, declaring the Nation was disgraced by the peace.”[744] Such was the bitterness and such were the blunt weapons in evidence in the contest even in the House.

Early in March, Polk submitted his report justifying every step of the Administration, and including the sensational resolution providing for an investigation of the Bank at Philadelphia. Binney submitted a minority report favoring the restoration of the deposits, and the debate took a fresh start. The outstanding speech of this phase of the debate was that of Rufus Choate, described by Adams, on the evening of its delivery, as “the most eloquent speech of the session, and, in a course of reasoning, altogether impressive and original.”[745] Still young, and his public career but brief, his great intellectual labors had already undermined his health, and even thus early in life he presented to the House when he arose the “cadaverous look” which confronts us to-day in the portraits of his later life.[746] With all the consummate skill which so distinguished his advocacy in the courts, he sought to divert the discussion from the channels it had followed. “As to the Bank itself,” he said, “I shall go throughout on the supposition that it will not be rechartered. I call on gentlemen to look upon the proposition to restore the deposits merely as a temporary measure of relief.” The crying need of the immediate hour was the use of the public money, and this could be had in a beneficial way at the time only through the Bank of the United States. Like Binney, he won the respect of Administration forces, and the succeeding speaker, hostile to the restoration, found the views expressed “new and interesting, and delivered in a tone and spirit becoming the representatives of a free people.”[747] But the debate dragged on without any high lights until in early April, when McDuffie returned to the attack, still in a superheated condition, and seeing swords and daggers gleaming in the air. Never in all history, he thought, had “the progress of the usurpation of the Executive been more rapid, more bold, or more successful than in the United States in the last fifteen months.” As he sat down, the previous question was moved, and with the appointment of tellers there fell a deep silence with the contending forces “glowering upon each other.”[748] The roll was called—and victory fell to the Jacksonians with an overwhelming majority.

In pursuance of the resolutions providing for an investigation, a committee was appointed, and with no thought of meeting opposition, it repaired to Philadelphia, sent Biddle a copy of the resolutions, informed him of the committee’s presence and its readiness to visit the Bank on the following day at any hour that he would indicate. Then followed days of struggle, with the committee obstructed at every turn by the technical barricades thrown up by John Sergeant. It was not for nothing, in the old days, that men characterized the cunning as “smart as a Philadelphia lawyer.” Having exhausted their resources, the committeemen returned to Washington and prepared reports to the House. The minority report, submitted by Edward Everett, excused the Bank. The majority charged contempt of the House, and asked that warrants be issued for the arrest of Biddle and the directors. A few days later Adams offered his resolution to discharge the committee from further duty, setting forth that there had been no contempt, and characterizing the proposed arrest of Biddle and his directors as “unconstitutional, arbitrary, and an oppressive abuse of power.” If this resolution was novel, under the circumstances, the speech in which it was supported was even more remarkable. “The House has sent a committee to investigate the affairs of the Bank,” Adams said. “Have they not done it? Not one word on that subject is to be found in the report. It contains no information on the affairs of the Bank.”[749] And how could the House enforce its decrees? he asked. “We have not a soldier to enforce our orders.” And Adams was more laudatory in his references to the bankers, “distinguished for their talents,” than he ever was to political friend or foe.

Thus nothing came of the resolutions. Perhaps nothing was expected. If the Bank’s curt treatment of the committee amused the business element and the Whig politicians, it delighted Kendall and Blair, for they knew how effectively the incident could be used with the masses.