His life-long ambition was to become president, and he was several times a candidate and once seemed on the eve of victory only to be defeated. The Great Peacemaker was too moderate for either side. The north accused him of favoring slavery, the south of making war against established institutions. He was not, however, in favor of freeing slaves, except gradually, and then of colonizing them. His own slaves were well-treated and loved him dearly.
Clay was one of what is called the Great Triumvirate, composed of the three foremost leaders in Congress; Webster and Calhoun were the other two. The three were in many ways rivals for power and popularity, but they united in opposing Jackson—who, secure in the favor of the people, held his own against all three.
In 1833 Clay, the “Great Compromiser,” carried his second great compromise act, securing the passage of a tariff bill which caused South Carolina to withdraw her Nullification Act.
“There is one man and only one man who can save the Union,” said John Randolph of Roanoke just before his death. “That man is Henry Clay. I know he has the power—I believe he will be found to have the patriotism and firmness equal to the occasion.” His patriotism and firmness were indeed equal to his power.
In 1850 the friction between the slave and free states became so great that war seemed inevitable. In order to maintain peace, Clay, then an old and feeble man of seventy-three, gave up private for public life and returned to the senate. For the last time the Great Triumvirate met in Congress. Clay was so feeble that he had to be helped up and down the steps of the Capitol, but with unquenched energy and fire, he appealed to the people’s patriotism and urged them to uphold the Union. Through his influence, the compromise measures of 1850 were adopted and peace was again restored for a time.
He could well say near the close of his life, “If any one desires to know the leading and paramount object of my public life, the preservation of the Union will furnish him the key.”
The great leader grew gradually weaker and passed away, June 29, 1852. His body was carried back to Kentucky and laid to rest in the state he so loved.
“I am a Whig,” he said once: “I am so because I believe the principles of the Whig party are best adapted to promote the prosperity of the country. I seek to change no man’s allegiance to his party, be it what it may. A life of great length and experience has satisfied me that all parties aim at the common good of the country. The great body of the Democrats, as well as the Whigs, are so from a conviction that their policy is patriotic. I take the hand of one as cordially as that of another, for all are Americans. I place country far above all parties. Look aside from that and parties are no longer worthy of being cherished.”
“I know no south, no north, no east, no west,” he said, at another time. It was such sentiments as these that made him Lincoln’s ideal of a statesman. The conflict he had striven to avert was postponed—but it came. His children and grandchildren fought, some on one side some on the other. Two of his grandchildren who were brothers fought on opposite sides and both fell in battle. Such was the War between the States.