THE FIRST MISSOURI COMPROMISE.
Despite the eloquence and the great influence of the Speaker, the Southern representatives were overborne and the House adopted the anti-slavery restriction. The Senate refused to concur, united Maine and Missouri in one bill, and passed it with an entirely new feature, which was proposed by Mr. Jesse B. Thomas, a senator from Illinois. That feature was simply the provision, since so widely known as the Missouri Compromise, which forever prohibited slavery north of 36° 30´ in all the territory acquired from France by the Louisiana purchase. The House would not consent to admit the two States in the same bill, but finally agreed to the compromise; and in the early part of March, 1820, Maine became a member of the Union without condition. A separate bill was passed, permitting Missouri to form a constitution preparatory to her admission, subject to the compromise, which, indeed, formed one section of the enabling Act. Missouri was thus granted permission to enter the Union as a slave State. But she was discontented with the prospect of having free States on three sides,—east, north, and west.
Although the Missouri Compromise was thus nominally perfected, and the agitation apparently ended, the most exciting, and in some respects the most dangerous, phase of the question was yet to be reached. After the enabling Act was passed, the Missouri Convention assembled to frame a constitution for the new State. The inhabitants of the Territory had become angered by the long delay imposed upon them, caused, as they believed, by the introduction of a question which concerned only themselves, and which Congress had no right to control. In this resentful mood they were led by the extremists of the convention to insert a provision in the constitution, declaring that "it shall be the duty of the General Assembly, as soon as may be, to pass such laws as may be necessary to prevent free negroes or mulattoes from coming to or settling in this State under any pretext whatever." As soon as the constitution with this obnoxious clause was transmitted to Congress by the President, the excitement broke forth with increased intensity and the lines of the old controversy were at once re-formed.
The parliamentary struggle which ensued was bitter beyond precedent; threats of dissolving the Union were frequent, and apprehension of an impending calamity was felt throughout the country. The discussion continued with unabated vigor and ardor until the middle of February, and the Congress was to terminate on the ensuing fourth of March. The House had twice refused to pass the bill admitting Missouri, declaring that the objectionable clause in her organic law was not only an insult to every State in which colored men were citizens, but was in flat contradiction of that provision in the Federal Constitution which declares that "the citizens of each State shall be entitled to all the privileges and immunities of citizens in the several States."
THE SECOND MISSOURI COMPROMISE.
The defeat, apparently final, of the admission of Missouri, created intense indignation. Southern senators and representatives charged that they were treated unjustly by the North, and dealt with unfairly in Congress. In pursuance of the compromise of the year before, Maine had been admitted and her senators were in their seats. The organs of Southern opinion accused the North of overreaching the South in securing, under the name of a compromise, the admission of Maine, while still retaining the power to exclude Missouri. A feeling that bad faith had been practiced is sure to create bitterness, and the accusation of it produces increased bitterness in return. The North could easily justify itself by argument, but the statement without argument apparently showed that the South had been deceived. The course pursued by the senators from Maine, —John Holmes and John Chandler,—in voting steadily for the admission of Missouri, tended greatly to check recrimination and relieve asperity of feeling. Mr. Holmes was a man of ability, of experience in public affairs, and of eminent distinction at home. With a rare gift of humor, and with conversational talent almost unrivaled, he exerted an influence over men in private and social intercourse which gave him singular power in shaping public questions. He was an intimate friend and political supporter of Mr. Clay, and their cordial co-operation at this crisis evoked harmony from chaos, and brought a happy solution to a question that was troubling every patriotic heart. They united in a final effort, and through the instrumentality of a joint committee of seven senators and twenty- three representatives,—of which Mr. Holmes was chairman on the part of the Senate, and Mr. Clay on the part of the House,—a second and final compromise was effected, and the admission of Missouri secured. This compromise declared that Missouri should be admitted to the Union upon the fundamental condition that no law should ever be passed by her Legislature enforcing the objectionable provision in her constitution, and that by a solemn public act the State should declare and record her assent to this condition, and transmit to the President of the United States an authentic copy of the Act. Missouri accepted the condition promptly but not cheerfully, feeling that she entered the Union under a severe discipline, and with hard and humiliating conditions. It was in this compromise, not in the one of the preceding session, that Mr. Clay was the leading spirit. Though the first was the more important, and dealt with larger questions of a more enduring nature, it did not at the time create so great an impression on the public mind as the second, nor did its discussion produce so much antagonism between the North and the South. Thirty years after these events Mr. Clay called attention to the fact that he had received undeserved credit for the Missouri Compromise of 1820, which he had supported but not originated. On the other hand, he had received only the slightest mention for his agency in the second compromise, which he had really originated and carried through Congress. The second compromise had passed out of general recollection before Mr. Clay's death, though it had made him a Presidential candidate at forty-three years of age.
The most remarkable fact connected with the excitement over the Missouri question, which engrossed the country for more than two years, was the absence of any premonition of its coming. There had been no severe political struggle in the nation since the contest between Madison and De Witt Clinton in 1812. Monroe had been chosen almost without opposition in 1816, and, even while the Missouri controversy was at its height, he was re-elected in 1820 by a practically unanimous vote, the North and the South being equally cordial in supporting him. In the House of Representatives, where the battle was so fierce, and the combatants were so evenly divided, Mr. Clay had been chosen speaker with only eight adverse votes, and these were given by men who acted from personal prejudice, and not from political difference. But the outbreak indicated, and indeed heralded, the re-forming of old party lines. The apparent unanimity only concealed a division that was already fatally developed. The party of Jefferson by its very success involved itself in ruin. Its ancient foe, the eminent and honorable party of Federalists, made but a feeble struggle in 1816, and completely disappeared from the national political field four years later, and even from State contests after the notable defeat of Harrison Gray Otis by William Eustis for governor of Massachusetts in 1823. But no political organization can live without opposition. The disappearance of the Federalists was the signal for factional divisions among their opponents; and the old Republican party, which had overthrown the administration of John Adams in 1800, which had laid the embargo, and forced a war with England, was now nearing its end. It divided into four parts in the Presidential election of 1824, and with its ancient creed and organization never re-appeared in a national contest. Jefferson had combined and indeed largely created its elements. He beheld it everywhere victorious for a quarter of a century, and he lived to see it shattered into fragments by the jealousy of its new leaders. The Democratic and Whig parties were constructed upon the ruins of the old organizations. In each were to be found representatives of the Republicanism of Jefferson and the Federalism of Hamilton. The ambition of both to trace their lineage to the former was a striking proof of its popular strength.
The Missouri question marked a distinct era in the political thought of the country, and made a profound impression on the minds of patriotic men. Suddenly, without warning, the North and the South, the free States and the slave States, found themselves arrayed against each other in violent and absorbing conflict. During the interval between the adoption of the Federal Constitution and the admission of Missouri, there had been a great change in the Southern mind, both as to the moral and the economic aspects of slavery. This revolution of opinion had been wrought in large degree by the cotton-plant. When the National Government was organized in 1789, the annual export of cotton did not exceed three hundred bales. It was reckoned only among our experimental products. But, stimulated by the invention of the gin, production increased so rapidly, that, at the time of Missouri's application for admission to the Union, cotton-planting was the most remunerative industry in the country. The export alone exceeded three hundred thousand bales annually. But this highly profitable culture was in regions so warm that outdoor labor was unwelcome to the white race. The immediate consequence was a large advance in the value of slave-labor, and in the price of slaves. This fact had its quick and decisive influence, even in those slave-holding States which could not raise cotton. The inevitable and speedy result was a consolidation of the political power necessary to protect an interest at once so vast and so liable to assault.
It was not unnatural that this condition should lead to a violent outburst on the slavery question, but it was nevertheless wholly unexpected. The causes which let to it had not been understood and analyzed. The older class of statesmen, who had come down from the period of the Revolution, from the great work of cementing the Union and framing the Constitution, deplored the agitation, and viewed the results with the gravest apprehension. The compromise by a geographical line, dividing the slave States from the free, was regarded by this class of patriots as full of danger,—a constant menace to the peace and perpetuity of the Union. To Mr. Jefferson, still living in vigorous old age, the trouble sounded like an alarm- bell rung at midnight. While the measure was pending in Congress, he wrote to a member of the House of Representatives, that "the Missouri question is the most portentous one which has ever threatened the Union. In the gloomiest hour of the Revolutionary war I never had any apprehensions equal to those which I feel from this source." Men on both sides of the controversy began to realize its significance and to dread its probable results. They likened the partition of the country by a geographical line unto the ancient agreement between Abraham and Lot, where one should go to the right, and the other to the left, with the certainty of becoming aliens, and the possibility of becoming enemies.