Twenty Years of Congress, Volume 2 / From Lincoln to Garfield, with a Review of the Events Which Led to the Political Revolution of 1860

by James Gillespie Blaine

During the progress of the debate a curious incident showed the temper engendered in the Senate. Mr. Trumbull, on the 5th of April, intimated his readiness to have the vote taken if the Senate was ready. It was late in the evening. Mr. Cowan interposed the suggestion that two senators detained at home by illness, Mr. Dixon of Connecticut and Mr. Wright of New Jersey, could not with safety come out at night. The point of courtesy was strongly insisted upon by Mr. Guthrie, Mr. Hendricks and other members. Mr. Wade spoke very excitedly in reply to it. "If the President of the United States," said he, "can impose his authority upon a question like this and can by a veto compel Congress to submit to his dictation, he is an emperor and a despot. Because I believe the great question of Congressional power and authority is at stake here, I yield to no importunities on the other side. I feel myself justified in taking every advantage which the Almighty has put in my hands to defend the power and authority of this body. I will not yield to these appeals of comity on a question like this, but I will tell the President and everybody else that if God Almighty has stricken a member of this body so that he cannot be here to uphold the dictation of a despot, I thank him for it and I will take every advantage of it I can."

Mr. Wade was answered with great severity by Mr. McDougal of California. Mr. Guthrie spoke with much spirit, but not with the temper of Mr. McDougal. "I should not like it to go out from this body," said the senator from Kentucky, "that Mr. Stockton was removed to get rid of his vote. I do not want it to go out from this body that we would not extend a courtesy to sick senators because we could pass a bill without their votes when we might not pass it if they were here. The time will come when the people, being convinced of these things, will say that there is more to be feared from a combined Congress than from a President, in relation to the liberties of the people." The angry position of Mr. Wade was not sustained by the Senate and the motion to adjourn was carried by 33 to 12. The debate continued throughout the next day and disclosed during its progress that Senator Lane of Kansas had joined the small band of Administration Republicans. He attempted to take part in the debate but was unmercifully dealt with by Mr. Wade, Mr. Trumbull and others, and paid dearly for his personal defection. When the vote was taken upon passing the bill over the President's veto the ayes were 33 and the noes 15. Every senator was present except Mr. Dixon of Connecticut, still detained from the Senate from illness. There was one vacancy, Mr. Stockton's seat not having yet been filled. Among the nays were Mr. Cowan, Mr. Doolittle, Mr. Lane of Kansas, Mr. Norton and Mr. Van Winkle.

The bill went to the House and after a very brief debate came to a vote on the 9th of April—yeas 122, nays 41. Speaker Colfax directed that his name should be called in order that he might have the honor of recording himself for the bill. He then announced that having received the vote of two-thirds of each House the Civil Rights Bill had become a law, the President's objections to the contrary notwithstanding. The announcement was received with an outburst of applause, in which the members of the House as well as the throng of spectators heartily joined—the speaker being unable to restore order for several minutes. It recalled the scene of a little more than a year before, when the rejoicing over the passage of the Thirteenth Amendment was equally demonstrative.

To many persons of conservative mind the bill seemed too radical—to many it seemed positively rash. It was an illustration of how rapidly public opinion is changed, and with what force it may be brought to bear upon a given question in a period that is filled with the spirit of revolutionary excitement. If five years before the most pronounced anti-slavery man in the country had been told that not only would slavery be abolished, not only would the slave be transformed into a citizen, but that the National Government would confer upon him all the civil rights pertaining to the white man and would stretch forth its arm to protect him in those rights throughout the limits of the Republic, it would have seemed to him as the wildest fancy of a distempered brain. But his had actually come to pass through the ordinary forms of legislation, and by such a preponderating display of senatorial and representative strength as had scarcely ever before controlled a public policy since the foundation of the Government.

It was not, of course, without some misgiving, without a certain timidity and distrust, that many Republicans were brought to the support of these measures. They did not object to their inherent and essential justice and rightfulness, but with instinctive caution they feared that an attempt to wipe away the prejudices of two centuries in a single day might lead to a dangerous re-action, and to a consequent change in the political control of the country. Many who were borne along in the irresistible current of aggressive reform dreaded all the more the effect of the votes which the moral and political pressure of their constituents compelled them to give. In the Constitutional amendment abolishing slavery they went forward without distrust, with complete approbation of conscience, with undoubting belief in the expediency of the act. They knew that the great mass of the North was heartily opposed to slavery: they knew that its abolition was not merely right but was destined to be popular. It affected moreover only that great section of country which had engaged in the crime of rebellion; and if it were viewed only as a punishment of those who had sought the destruction of the Government, they felt more than justified in inflicting it.

But the legislation now accomplished was of a different type. In no State of the North had there ever been social equality between the negro and the white man. It had been most nearly approached in New England, but still there were points of prejudice which time had not effaced nor custom changed. In the Middle and Western States the feeling was much deeper. In many of their laws a discrimination was made against the negro, and a direct interference with the habits of loyal communities on this subject involved many considerations which did not in any degree attach to legislation affecting only the Southern States. There was among Democratic leaders a confidence as marked as the timidity on the part of the Republicans. They were sure of a re-action in their favor; they believed that the Republicans had taken the step which would prove fatal to them, and that with the prejudices of the people supplemented by the patronage of the President a serious division would ensue, which would prove fatal to Radical ascendency in a majority of the Northern states. Overcome in both chambers by the aggressive force of a majority which transcended the limit of two-thirds, they congratulated themselves that this very power, beyond the restraint of the Executive and exercised in defiance of his opinions, would prove the pitfall of Republicanism wherever race prejudice was kept alive.

The passage of these bills by Congress, their persistent veto by the President and their re-enactment against his objections, produced, as had been anticipated, not only an open political hostility, but one which rapidly advanced to a condition in which violent epithet and mutual denunciation indicated the deplorable relations of the two great departments of the Government. The veto of the Freedmen's-Bureau Bill, on the 19th of February, was followed by a large popular meeting in Washington, on the 22d, to approve the President's action. The meeting adjourned to the White House to congratulate the President, and he in turn made a long speech in which he broke through all restraint, and spoke his mind with exasperating frankness. "I have," said the President, "fought traitors and treason in the South. I opposed Davis, Toombs, Slidell, and a long list of others whose names I need not repeat, and now, when I turn around at the other end of the line, I find men—I care not by what name you call them (a voice: 'Call them traitors')—who still stand opposed to the restoration to the Union of these States. (A voice: 'Give us their names.') A gentleman calls for their names. Well! suppose I should give them? I look upon them, I repeat it as President or citizen, as being as much opposed to the fundamental principles of this Government, and believe they are as much laboring to pervert or destroy them, as were the men who fought against them in the Rebellion. (A voice: 'Give us the names.') I say Thaddeus Stevens of Pennsylvania. (Tremendous applause.) I say Charles Sumner. (Tremendous applause.) I say Wendell Phillips and others of the same stripe are among them. (A voice: 'Give it to Forney.') Some gentleman in the crowd says, 'Give it to Forney.' I have only to say that I do not waste my ammunition upon dead ducks." (Laughter and applause.) . . . "They may traduce me," continued the President, "they may slander me, they may vituperate, but let me say to you that it has no effect upon me; and let me say in addition that I do not intend to be bullied by my enemies. . . . There is an earthquake coming, gentlemen: there is a ground-swell coming of popular judgment and indignation. The American people will speak for their interests, and they will know who are their friends and who their enemies. What positions have I held under this Government?—beginning with an alderman and running through all the branches of the Legislature. (A voice: 'From a tailor up.') Some gentleman says I have been a tailor. (Tremendous applause.) Now that did not discomfit me in the least; for when I used to be a tailor I had the reputation of being a good one and of making close fits (great laughter); always punctual with my customers and always did good work. (A voice: 'No patchwork.') No: I do not want any patchwork. I want a whole suit. But I will pass by this little facetiousness. . . . I was saying that I held nearly all positions, from alderman, through both branches of Congress, to that which I now occupy; and who is there that will say Andrew Johnson ever made a pledge that he did not redeem or made a promise that he did not fulfill?"

Some one had spoken in Congress about the Presidential obstacle to be gotten out of the way. Mr. Johnson interpreted this as meaning personal violence to himself. "I make use," said he, "of a very strong expression when I say that I have no doubt the intention was to incite assassination and so get out of the way the obstacle to place and power. Whether by assassination or not, there are individuals in this Government, I doubt not, who want to destroy our institutions and change the character of the Government. Are they not satisfied with the blood which has been shed? Does not the murder of Lincoln appease the vengeance and wrath of the opponents of this Government? Are they still unslaked? Do they still want more blood? I am not afraid of the assassin attacking me where a brave and courageous man would attack another. I only dread him when he would go in disguise, his footsteps noiseless. If it is blood they want let them have courage enough to strike like men."

The speech produced a very unfavorable impression upon the country. Its low tone, its vulgar abuse, recalled Mr. Johnson's unhappy words at the time of his inauguration as Vice-President, and produced throughout the country a feeling of humiliation. His effort to make it appear that his political opponents meditated assassination was regarded as a thoroughly unscrupulous declaration, as an unworthy attempt to place himself beside Lincoln in the martyrdom of duty—to suggest that as Lincoln had fallen, sacrificed to the spirit of hostility in the South, so he, in pursuing his line of duty, was in danger of being sacrificed to hostility in the North. The delivery of this speech was the formal forfeiture of the respect and confidence of the great majority of the people who had elected him to his place, and he failed to secure compensation by gaining the respect or confidence of those who had opposed him. A few Democrats who wished to worry and divide the Republican party, the place-hunters who craved the favor of the Executive, a few deserters from the Republican ranks unable to pursue the path of exacting duty, represented by their combination a specious support for the President. Natives of the border States, who had been unwilling to join in treasonable demonstrations against the Government but who had not been inspired with sufficient loyalty to join actively in its defense, now naturally rallied around Mr. Johnson. The residents of Washington, consisting at that time of Southern men and Southern sympathizers, now applauded the President because they saw an opportunity to distract and defeat the Republican party. But the entire mass of those who were now eager to sustain the President exhibited but a pitiable contrast with the magnificent party which he had voluntarily abandoned.

The increasing fierceness of the struggle between the President and Congress gave rise to every form of evil suspicion and evil imputation. The close vote on the Civil Rights Bill admonished the Republicans of their danger. If Mr. Dixon had not been confined to his house by illness, if Mr. Stockton had not been a few days before deprived of his seat, the Administration would have been able to rally seventeen votes in the negative, leaving but thirty-three to the Republicans out of a Senate of fifty members. The exigencies of the situation presented the strongest possible temptation to take every fair advantage, and this naturally led to the imputation of unfair advantage. A large number of honest-minded opponents believed that a careful calculation had been made by the Republican leaders, and that they had found the margin so close as to be unsafe in a contest with the President. If the margin had been broader and the two-thirds vote assured past all reasonable danger, it was asserted, and no doubt believed, that the Constitution would not have been strained to exchange Mr. Stockton for a Republican senator, who was sure to succeed him. It was the first attempt in our history to establish the policy of the Government without regard to the President, and indeed against his power. In the case of President Tyler the reverse had been practically attempted. In his controversy with the Whigs his friends constituted more than a third in each House —thus making his veto effective and leading him to attempt the administration of the Government without regard to the opinions of Congress. Mr. Tyler had failed; but thus far in the controversy with Johnson, Congress had succeeded. It was said, however, with great pertinacity by the friends of the President, that Congress was enabled to do this only by the exclusion of eleven States of the Union from representation; and from this fact came the Democratic denunciation of the Republican party for administering the affairs of the Government in a revolutionary spirit.