A Hunker Whig?

In the past I have discussed the economic disagreements, beginning in about 1842, between radical and more conservative elements in the New York Democratic Party that, when combined with the slavery issue, exploded in the Barnburner-Hunker schism in 1847-1848 (for example here). But whatever the details of the origins of the factions and the names given them, I have only seen the term “Hunker” used to describe a faction of the New York Democracy.

Until now. In his gripping – and highly recommended – Fugitive Justice: Runaways, Rescuers, and Slavery on Trial, Steven Lubet describes the hearing held in Boston in May 1854 to determine the fugitive slave status of Anthony Burns. After a witness for Burns's master identified Burns, adding that he had seen him in Richmond, VA as recently as March 20, 1854, the defense presented witnesses who testified that the Anthony Burns on trial had been in Boston since about the beginning of March.

One of those witnesses, one James Whittemore, recalled seeing Burns as part of a window-cleaning crew on March 8 or 9. To bolster his credibility, the defense team asked about his political affiliation. Over objection, Whittemore testified that he was a “Hunker Whig” - that is, he was not a Free Soiler or abolitionist. The Hunkers and Barnburners were gone, but the term “Hunker” clearly survived as a generic descriptor.

About the illustration:

A portrait of the fugitive slave Anthony Burns, whose arrest and trial under the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850 touched off riots and protests by abolitionists and citizens of Boston in the spring of 1854. A bust portrait of the twenty-four-year-old Burns, "Drawn by Barry from a daguereotype [sic] by Whipple and Black," is surrounded by scenes from his life. These include (clockwise from lower left): the sale of the youthful Burns at auction, a whipping post with bales of cotton, his arrest in Boston on May 24, 1854, his escape from Richmond on shipboard, his departure from Boston escorted by federal marshals and troops, Burns's "address" (to the court?), and finally Burns in prison. Copyrighting works such as prints and pamphlets under the name of the subject (here Anthony Burns) was a common abolitionist practice. This was no doubt the case in this instance, since by 1855 Burns had in fact been returned to his owner in Virginia.

Millard Fillmore, Governor of New York?

I’ve noticed what I think are two minor but disconcerting mistakes in Jonathan H. Earle’s Democratic Antislavery.

First, Professor Earles states that “Preston King kept his promise to reintroduce the [Wilmot] proviso on the first day of the new congressional session [in December 1846].”

My review of the Congressional Globe, discussed two posts ago, indicates, however, that King did not attempt to introduce his bill containing Proviso language until December 29, 1846, which was not the first day of the session. Perhaps Professor Earle meant to say “the first month of the session”?

Second, Professor Earle states:

The immediate effect of the Barnburner revolt was a humiliating Democratic defeat in the 1847 election. Majorities for Whig gubernatorial candidate Millard Fillmore numbered more than 38,000, making 1847 the high-water mark of Whig power in the state.

Unfortunately, Millard Fillmore did not run for governor of New York in 1847. In fact, no one did. Elections for governor – a two year term – were then held in the autumn of even years, with the governor taking office the following January. John Young had been elected governor in the fall of 1846 and assumed office in January 1847. The next gubernatorial election would not be held until the fall of 1848.

Millard Fillmore did run for state office in the autumn of 1847. But he ran for and was elected to the office of Comptroller. The Comptroller's office was the most important position contested that year, so he in effect headed the Whig ticket. Professor East must have momentarily forgotten that the head of the ticket was not running for governor.

The Barnburners and the Proviso

The preponderance of New York Barnburners present at the [Wilmot] proviso's creation . . . is worth noting here. Six of the eleven instigators of the proviso . . . were either New Yorkers or members of Barnburner leader Preston King's mess in Washington. Each was a Van Buren Democrat.

Jonathan H. Earle, Jacksonian Democracy & the Politics of Free Soil, 1824-1854.

Next, we'll take a closer look at Mr. King.

The Democracy and Free Soil

Some of my recent reading has caused me to wonder about an issue I hadn’t thought much about: why was it that a number of otherwise orthodox northern Democrats – Andrew Jackson loving, hard-money, anti-Bank Democrats – came to embrace the concept of Free Soil? By all accounts, David Wilmot was such a man. The fact that he was such a loyal Democrat was probably why the Speaker of the House felt safe in giving him the floor on that fateful evening in August 1846. What on Earth had motivated his apostasy? And why, a year later, did the Radical Democrats of New York – the Barnburners – embrace him as a kindred spirit?

The usual suspects seemed to include Martin Van Buren and James K. Polk. In 1844 Southern Democrats had denied Van Buren renomination in favor of Polk by invoking the two-thirds rule. After his election, President Polk had snubbed Van Buren by failing to accept Van Buren’s recommendations for cabinet appointments and patronage. Most glaringly, Polk wound up nominating conservative Democrat and Van Buren rival William Marcy as Secretary of War.

And yet . . . I was getting the sense that the Van Buren angle was not holding together. Nobody was pointing to hard evidence demonstrating that Wilmot was a Van Buren disciple. Polk had been the beneficiary of Van Buren’s convention defeat, but he was not involved in the conspiracy. Van Buren knew this, and in fact got on well with Polk. Likewise, Van Buren almost certainly understood that Polk was not snubbing him intentionally. Finally, whatever Van Buren’s private views, his public embrace of Free Soil came late in 1848. Men such as Wilmot would have had no way of knowing in August 1846 or October 1847 that Van Buren would join their ranks.

Another cause of friction I had seen mentioned was Oregon. Polk had taken office promising to acquire (or re-acquire) Oregon as well as Texas. He had made his peace with England, however, to concentrate on Mexico. Some northern Democrats were reportedly upset that Polk had “sacrificed” Oregon. But could that issue alone have precipitated a rebellion by a substantial number of otherwise loyal and orthodox Democrats? That seemed unlikely.

About the illustration:

Here [the illustrator, Edward Williams] Clay is critical of James K. Polk's public advocacy of the 54.40 parallel as the northern boundary of American territory in Oregon. The cartoon also alludes to widespread uncertainty as to the course the secretive Polk would actually pursue on the issue. The artist invokes the specter of an earlier Democratic president, Andrew Jackson, as the inspiration for what he considers Polk's rash and autocratic handling of the dispute. Standing at the foot of Polk's bed in a cloud of smoke is a devil, who, concealing himself behind the mask and hat of Andrew Jackson, commands the sleeping Polk, "Child of my adoption, on whom my mantle hath fallen, swear never to take your toe off that line should you deluge your country with seas of blood, produce a servile insurrection and dislocate every joint of this happy and prosperous union!!!" Polk, slumbering in a large canopied bed, has one toe on the 54.40 line of a map of Oregon which lies on floor. Also next to bed is a potted "Poke" weed (a pun on his name) and a table with his readings: "Art of War, Calvin's Works, Practical Piety," and "Life of Napoleon." Polk answers the devil, "I do my venerated and lamented chieftain! I do, by the eternal!" (The vow "By the eternal" was a well-known Jacksonism.) At left, dressed in nightshirts, three cabinet members steal into the room. They are (left to right) George Bancroft, James Buchanan, and Robert J. Walker. Treasury Secretary Walker carries a "Tariff" document, no doubt the controversial and recently introduced tariff bill of which he was generally considered the architect, and comments, "It seems to me there's the devil to pay with the president; yet behold his great toe, greater than any Pope's fixed firmly on the line 54.40. Patriotic even in dreams!" Behind Walker Secretary of State Buchanan, holding a candle and a portfolio marked "Packenham Correspondence," says, "There's certainly a strong smell of brimstone in the room! Perhaps his excellency has been practising pyrotechnics previous to commencing his campaign." The "Packenham Correspondence" refers to Buchanan's July 1845 note to British ambassador Richard Pakenham, wherein the forty-ninth parallel was proposed as a compromise. Pakenham's response, a rejection, touched off Polk's pursuit (at least temporarily) of a more hard-line stance, claiming the 54.40 boundary. "I guess there's a screw loose here! I wonder what Polk's going to do!" muses Navy Secretary Bancroft.

David Wilmot on the Creation of the Wilmot Proviso

The disputes between Barnburners and Hunkers erupted into schism in September 1847. At a New York state Democratic convention held in Syracuse on September 29th, the Hunkers obtained a narrow majority and nominated Hunker candidates for statewide office. The Barnburners walked out.

The Barnburners reassembled at a separate convention, held in the town of Herkimer on October 26, 1847. One of the featured speakers was none other David Wilmot. His speech at Herkimer was apparently not transcribed. Several days later, however, on October 29, 1847, Wilmot delivered a substantially identical speech in Albany, which was transcribed.

Although the entire speech is available online here, it’s in pdf format. I thought it would we worthwhile to transcribe and highlight some of the most interesting portions for you.

One fascinating part of Wilmot’s speech describes the origins of the Proviso that bore his name:

The history of the introduction of this measure into Congress is brief. The occassion [sic] which called for it, arose but a few hours before the adjournment of the first session of the late congress; which took place at 12 o’clock M. of Monday the 10th of August [1846]. On the Saturday before, the message of the President, asking that two millions be placed at his disposal, was received and read in the House of Representatives.

It was the subject of general remark and speculation. That day at dinner, the conversation turned upon it; in which Robert Dale Owen of Indiana, Robert P. Dunlap of Maine, Jacob S. Yost of Pennsylvania and myself took a part. I remarked that it was clear, that the two millions asked for by the President, was to be paid, if paid at all, as the first instalment, of purchase money, for large accessions of territory from Mexico to the United States; and then declared my purpose, in case Mr. [James Iver] M’Kay, (the chairman of the committee of ways and means,) should bring in a bill, to move an amendment, to the effect that slavery should be excluded from any territory acquired by virtue of such appropriation.

Mr. Owen objected, and said he would make a speech against it. Gov. Dunlap and Mr. Yost approved of such an amendment, and advised me to adhere to my purpose. . . .

After dinner, in front of the hotel, I had further conversation with several members. Those that I now recollect, were Mr. Grover of New York, Mr. [Jacob] Brinkerhoff of Ohio, and Mr. [Hannibal] Hamlin of Maine. We agreed to advise our northern friends generally, when we re-assembled in evening session, and if the measure met with their approbation, that it should be pressed. We did so, and so far as I heard, Northern democrats were unanimous in favor of the movement.

When the bill was introduced, or called up, several gentlemen collected together, to agree upon the form and terms of the proposed amendment. I well recollect that Mr. [George O.] Rathbun, Mr. [Preston] King, and Mr. [Martin] Grover of New York; Mr. Brinkerhoff of Ohio, Mr. Hamlin of Maine, and Judge Thompson and myself of Pennsylvania, were of the number, if we did not constitute the entire group. Some were engaged in drafting an amendment, myself among the number, and several were submitted; all of which underwent more or less alterations at the suggestions of those taking part in the business going on. After various drafts had been drawn and altered, the language in which the amendment was offered was finally agreed upon, as the result of our united labors.

Wilmot specifically denied that “the design” of the Proviso “was to embarrass the administration” or “that it had its origins in a political intrigue for a Presidential candidate in 1848. He pointed out that he had loyally supported all of the initiatives of the Polk administration. He asserted that, when he moved the Proviso, he did not realize that the administration would oppose it:

Previous to its being moved, I never heard the suggestion made, that it would embarrass the Administration. We did not then know that the Administration desired to plant slavery on free soil. It is only recently that this hateful policy had been boldly put forth.

About the illustration:

The artist predicts a decisive Whig victory in the presidential election of 1848, with Whig candidate Zachary Taylor "bagging" all of the states in an electoral sweep. (Taylor actually carried only fifteen of the thirty states.) A kneeling Taylor (left) gathers fallen pigeons, each bearing a state's name, into a bag. Holding up the New York bird he muses, "My purpose would be suited without this fellow, however I'll take him: the more the merrier for the 4th of March next." Taylor's strength in New York was considered questionable before the election. Standing to the right is Lewis Cass with a musket at his side. Looking over at Taylor, he marvels, "What an all devouring appetite the fellow has: I expect he'll bag me in the bargain!" In the background Martin Van Buren is caught by the seat of his trousers on the nails of a fence. Holding a rooster labeled "Proviso" he cries, "Cass, come and help an old crony won't you!" Peering over from behind the fence is Pennsylvania congressman David Wilmot, author of the Wilmot Proviso, who threatens Van Buren with a switch, "I'll teach you to come ta robbing my barn!" Van Buren and the Barnburner Democrats adopted the proviso, which barred slavery in American territory gained in the Mexican War, as the main plank in their 1848 campaign platform.

Barnburners and Hunkers: Texas Intrudes

After 1842, tensions deepened between the Radicals and the Conservatives in New York. The substantive disputes between them, however, remained focused on the Erie Canal and economic issues. National issues and politics did not seriously intrude on the intra-party feud. The Democrats' rejection of Martin Van Buren in favor of James K. Polk in 1844 was not perceived as favoring one side or the other -- the participants were not even sure where Van Buren stood. Likewise, in assembling his cabinet, Polk had offended Van Buren by declining to accept his cabinet recommendations and instead nominating Conservative William L. Marcy as Secretary of War, but there was no immediately apparent connection to the intra-party feuding.

In fact, Texas and slavery extension seem to have come in as issues in the dispute through the back door. In January 1846, at the beginning of the 1846 New York legislative session, a Hunker state senator "offered a set of resolutions approving all the policies of the National Administration, including the annexation of Texas." His motivation for doing was apparently not substantive. "His object . . . was believed to be strengthen the hands of the Hunkers in Washington by making Marcy and [Hunker U.S. Senator Daniel S.] Dickinson . . . the peculiar friends of the president."

A Radical Senator "promptly moved amendatory resolutions omitting all references to Texas." The ensuing debate was "warm" but had nothing to do with Texas or slavery extension. The Senators instead engaged in name-calling about "the loyalty and justification of the public course of the leading men of the two factions."

Quoting an earlier observer, Herbert D.A. Donovan suggests that the event demonstrates fundamental substantive differences over slavery extension between the factions:

"The debate," says Alexander, "indicated that the Free-Soil sentiment had not only taken root among the Radicals, but that rivalries between the two factions rested on differences of principle far deeper than canal improvement."

But the facts that Donovan relates do not necessarily support this conclusion. The Radical who moved to strike the pro-Texas resolution may well have disliked the idea of slavery extension or resented the Slave Power, but he seems to have seized on the issue primarily in order to embarrass and discredit the Conservatives with the president. The two factions then fought over the issue, just as they fought over a number of other auxiliary issues, in order to gain tactical advantage and to deny victory to their adversaries.

Nonetheless, the Texas issue -- and by extension the spread of slavery -- had been raised.

About the illustration, which dates to an earlier period (1838, when William H. Seward and the Whigs swept the Democrats out of power in New York):

A satiric commentary on the effects of the landslide Whig victory in New York state elections in the autumn of 1838. President Van Buren (left) greets two of his defeated allies: incumbent governor William L. Marcy (center, in uniform) and Representative Churchill C. Cambreleng. Both men had the support of New York radical Democrats, or "Loco Focos." Van Buren: "Welcome old friends to me yet dear, Pray what the devil brings you here?" Marcy: "I have had leave to resign, and wish to be taken care of. If you had nothing better, I'll take the Office of Collector!" Cambreleng (wiping his eyes): "I am defeated in spite of the lamentations of the people!" Servant at the door, in a Dutch accent: "Vot rum-looking Coveys these is. I vonder Master admits them!" A portrait of Van Buren supporter Francis Preston Blair hangs on the wall of the room.

"We could never discover that they were peculiar in that"

You've got to admit, in the War of the Names, the Barnburners beat the Hunkers hands down.

Herbert D.A. Donovan identifies two potential derivations of the term "Hunker." "The less probable explanation is that it derived from the Dutch word 'honk,' a post or station, reflecting on their supposed stationary attitude toward reforms."

The other, which Donovan finds more plausible, is somewhat similar to the traditional one of "hunkering" (i.e., hankering) after spoils:

To their rivals for party supremacy, the equally inappropriate and mystifying name "Hunkers or "Old Hunkers" was given. This was supposed to ridicule their strenuous efforts to get a large "hunk" of the spoils of office; though, as [Horace] Greeley slyly observed, "we could never discover that they were peculiar in that," and it is true that during the epoch of the struggle, the Barnburners probably surpassed their rivals both in getting and keeping offices.

"Thunder and lightning are barnburners sometimes"

Herbert D.A. Donovan dates the use of the term "Barnburners" to 1842, although "[t]he use of the term is not common before 1843." The most likely origin

is, that the name grew out of a slighting remark that the policy of the Radicals in connection with public works resembled that of the legendary Dutch farmer who had burned down his barn to rid it of the rats -- the implication being that the Barnburners were willing to destroy the public works and corporations to stop the abuses connected with them. This explanation was given by speakers on both sides during discussion in the legislature . . ..

The term of ridicule was, predictably enough, eventually adopted by the targets as a badge of honor:

[I]n 1847, at the celebrated Herkimer convention, Samuel Young, one of their oldest and ablest leaders, accepted the designation. "Gentlemen," said he, "They call us barnburners. Thunder and lightning are barnburners sometimes; but they greatly purify the whole atmosphere, and that, gentlemen, is what we propose to do.."

About the illustration:

A humorous commentary on Barnburner Democrat Martin Van Buren's opposition to regular Democratic party nominee Lewis Cass. Van Buren and his son John were active in the Free Soil effort to prevent the extension of slavery into new American territories. In this he opposed the conservative Cass, who advocated deferring to popular sovereignty on the question. In "Smoking Him Out," Van Buren and his son (wearing smock, far right) feed an already raging fire in a dilapidated barn. (radical New York Democrats supporting Van Buren were referred to as "Barnburners" because in their zeal for social reforms and anticurrency fiscal policy they were likened to farmers burning their barns to drive out the rats). On the left, Lewis Cass prepares to leap from the roof of the flaming structure while several rats likewise escape below him. The artist seems to favor Van Buren, and his attempt to force the slavery issue in the campaign. The Free Soilers, unlike the Democrats, supported enforcement of the Wilmot Proviso, an act introduced by David Wilmot which prohibited slavery in territories acquired in the Mexican War. John Van Buren, adding another pitchfork of hay to the flames, exclaims, "That's you Dad! more 'Free Soil.' We'll rat'em out yet. Long life to Davy Wilmot."

The Barnburners: Fons et Origo

Herbert D.A. Donovan identifies 1842 as a key year in the developing divisions within the Democratic Party in New York.

During the last gubernatorial term of Democrat William Learned Marcy (who left office on December 31, 1838) and particularly during the administration of his successor, Whig William Henry Seward (who assumed office January 1, 1839), the state debt mushroomed. Conservative Democrats and Whigs sponsored ambitious canal projects while refusing to lay taxes to pay for them, maintaining that the income generated from the projects would ultimately pay off the debt.

As previously discussed, by 1842 the state was an economic disaster area. The Radicals finally gained enough support to pass the Stop and Tax Act of 1842, aided by more conservative Democrats “who consented to it only on the ground of temporary necessity.” The Radicals then beat back attempts by Conservatives to undermine the Act through the passage of bills that would have authorized work on specific projects.

“[T]he proceedings of the Democratic members of the [New York] Senate [in which Conservatives proposed to fund projects and Radicals thwarted them] . . . are worthy of particular notice, because they afforded the first public demonstration in our state legislature of the difference of opinion between that portion of the Democratic party called the Barnburners or radicals, and those that were afterwards called conservatives, or ‘Hunkers.’” From this time forward, the Radicals had a concrete platform on which they could stand together and seek to dominate the will of the party.

***

Thus it may be seen that the ramifications of the canal question were the ultimate source of division, the “fons et origo” from which sprang the dissentions in the Democratic party at that period.

The Barnburners: The Prequel

The Erie Canal gave birth to the Barnburners.

Shortly after the Canal opened in the mid-1820s, "it became evident that the income . . . would exceed even the sanguine predictions of the most ardent Clintonians." In 1827, "the [New York] legislature suspended entirely the imposition of a direct tax."

Over the next decade, however, increasing expenditures, particularly on uneconomical feeder canals that did not pay their way, depleted the state treasury. By 1834, the New York state general fund was reduced to $190,000. By 1835, it was clear that the State would either have to re-impose a direct tax to fund projects or resort to deficit spending.

In that year, the state comptroller was Democrat Azariah C. Flagg. "It was he," according to Herbert H.D. Donovan, "who at this time outlined and urged the financial policy which, in its application later, became the bone of contention . . . between two almost equally-balanced sections of the Democrats themselves."

Flagg did so by reporting as follows (paragraph breaks and emphasis added):

The annual reports from this office the last nine years have urged upon the consideration of the representatives of the people the necessity of a state tax, to enable the treasury to meet the ordinary expenses of the government, and to save the general fund from annihilation. The acts of the legislature, instead of favoring the policy of preserving the principal of the general fund, have indicated a settled determination to use it up for the current expenses of the treasury, and not to levy a tax, so long as there remained a remnant of that fund . . ..

The alternative is now presented, whether a light tax shall be levied, or a state debt created, for supplying the treasury with the means of paying the daily demands upon it. A decision of the question cannot be postponed any longer. It is necessary for the preservation of a sound financial system, that a tax should be levied, of at least one mill upon the dollar of valuation of real and personal estate. If the treasury is not relieved by a tax, there will be a debt against the treasury of at least $1,500,000 by the close of 1837. In addition to this, there will be a debt on account of the lateral canals of at least $3,000,000. . . .

In authorizing money to be borrowed and stock to be issued for the construction of the lateral canals, the salutary principle adopted (in 1817) has not been adhered to. . . . It is a wise rule . . . never to borrow a dollar without laying a tax in the same instant for paying the interest annually, and the principal within a given term, and to consider that tax as pledged to the creditors of the public faith.

Within the next several years, "[c]onflicting impulses on the subject of expenditures for canals . . . began to open a rift in the hitherto solid lines of the majority party."

Those who believed in a rather liberal policy of pledging the state's credit and resources to the extension and completion of the canal system at an early date began to be called "Conservatives." Those, on the other hand, who favored the new policy of limiting the canal expenditures to the amount available from the surplus revenue of those canals, received the designation "Radicals." It is by these names that the two groups are always referred to in the early days of their strife.

About the illustration:

A satire on the Van Buren administration's involvement in New York State politics. Although the precise context of the cartoon is unclear, specific reference is made to Van Buren's alliance with postmaster general and political strategist Amos Kendall against Senator Nathaniel P. Tallmadge, leader of the conservative faction of New York Democrats. In an interior, Kendall (left) and Van Buren are at a table strewn with "discharge" papers. Kendall, seated below a painting of Andrew Jackson titled "Glory," reads the "Globe" newspaper. Van Buren sits below a portrait of "Globe" editor and administration apologist Francis Preston Blair. Van Buren: "So they've nailed that infernal Tallmadge to the counter-Whole hog fellows these eighteen-we must show our gratitude-any room in your concern Amos?" Kendall: "You're right sir we must back up the Albany Boys. Ill send every d--md whig in my department to "Jones" locker. Theres that old superanuated hero Van Ranselaer [i.e., probably, Canal Commissioner Stephen Van Rensselaer] we'll bury him decently and put a "Flagg" [State Comptroller Azariah C. Flagg] over him." Tallmadge watches from behind a curtain, saying "Those fellows can only conceive of mens souls as marketable commodities." Weitenkampf dates the print tentatively 1836, but the artist's rendering of Kendall is clearly based on Charles Fenderich's life portrait, etched by William W. Bannerman and published in the "United States Magazine and Democratic Review" in March 1838. The likeness of Tallmadge also appears to be from a Fenderich portrait copyrighted in 1839.

"A labyrinth of wheels within wheels"

Having recently referred to "[t]he hothouse of politics in New York during the first half of the Nineteenth Century," I was amused to run across the following:

The complexity of New York State politics during its whole history has been often a matter of comment. Particularly during the first half of the nineteenth century it was the despair of the most competent observers. William Allen Butler, writing in 1862, declared that it had "always been a vast deep," and his judgment was echoed by other excellent critics. Horace Greeley, who, by virtue of long experience no less than active personal interest, should certainly have been able to elucidate the subject, complained of "the zigzag, wavering lines and uncouth political designations which puzzled and wearied readers." The shrewdest politicians from other parts of the union, anxious as they were to conciliate a state which was by its very size a vital factor in the decision of all political questions, were compelled to admit that the currents and counter-currents at work here could not be accurately or reliably gauged. President John Quincy Adams pleaded this lack of comprehension in excuse of some unpopular nominations, and Oliver Wolcott wrote: "I don't pretend to comprehend their politics. It is a labyrinth of wheels within wheels, and it is understood only by the managers."

Herbert D.A. Donovan, The Barnburners (NYU Press 1925).

About the illustration, entitled The strife, between an old hunker, a barnburner and a no party man:

A particularly well-drawn satire on the three major presidential contenders for 1848, (left to right) Zachary Taylor, Martin Van Buren and Lewis Cass. Of the three the artist seems to favor Van Buren, the "Barnburner" candidate, who sits on a stool milking the cow which the others try in vain to move in opposite directions. Taylor, who tugs at the tail of the animal, is called a "No Party Man" because of his continued refusal to commit to a party ideology. Cass, the "Hunker" or conservative Democrat, strains at the cow's horns. Van Buren: "I go in for the free soil. Hold on Cass, dont let go Taylor, (That's the cream of the Joke)." Van Buren was the candidate of a coalition, between Barnburner Democrats and Liberty and Whig party abolitionists, called the Free Soil party. Zachary Taylor: "I don't Stand on the whig Platform 'I ask no favor and shrink from no Responsibility.'" Lewis Cass: "Matty is at his old tricks again, and going in for the Spoils old Zack, and myself will get nothing but skim milk."

Governor Bouck Sets the Barn on Fire

I was taking a look around to see what I could find on the origins of the dispute between the Barnburners and the Hunkers in New York. Interestingly, there isn’t that much on the details, rooted as they are in the Byzantine intricacies of New York politics. Wikipedia, for example, says only that “The Barnburners were the more radical faction of the New York state Democratic Party in the mid 19th century. . . . The Barnburners opposed expanding the public debt, and the power of the large corporations; they generally came to oppose the extension of slavery.”

In his excellent The Anti-Rent Era in New York and Politics, 1839-1865, Charles W. McCurdy dates “the famous Barnburner-Hunker split in the New York Democracy” to 1843, when circumstances exposed a divide between New York Democrats over economic policy. To understand how it arose, we must go back several years.

After years of Democratic domination, New York somewhat unexpectedly elected Whig William Seward as governor in the fall of 1838. Seward took office on January 1, 1839.

The Panic of 1837 was then in remission (temporary, as it would turn out), and the new governor proposed a bold and aggressive spending program. The legislature should abandon the Democrats’ pay-as-you-go policy for canals and railroads. He urged it instead “to accelerate progress on the public works by authorizing the [state] to borrow $4 million a year for the next decade.” The governor argued that these expenditures would pay for themselves:

Each $500,000 increment of revenue from canal tolls, Seward pointed out, would pay the interest on another $10 million of debt. As a result, “taxation for purposes of internal improvement is happily unnecessary as it would be unequal and oppressive.”

The Panic of 1837, however, laid waste to Seward’s aggressive program. The initial contraction in 1837 had eased somewhat during late 1838 and much of 1839, but an even more severe downturn followed at the end of that year. Seward was reelected to a second two-year term in the fall of 1840. However, by 1841-42, the New York economy was a disaster – and the state budget was too.

As of January 1842, when the state legislature met (annual sessions started at the beginning of January and usually went into early May) the state debt had climbed to $26.8 million from $11.9 million three years earlier. Canal tolls and other sources of revenue expected to fund the building program had dried up. No help could be expected from the federal government; the Whigs, who had surged to power in the national elections of 1840, were now at war with their own president, John Tyler.

New York voters went to the polls in the fall of 1841 to elect a new state legislature, and they punished the Whigs with a vengeance. The Democrats won control of the state senate and “rolled up an astonishing majority of 95-33 in the lower house. Governor Seward pronounced the result ‘a disastrous overthrow of the Whig party in this state.’”

When the new, Democratic legislature met at the beginning 1842, it was determined to bring the governor’s spending spree to a halt. To this end, it passed what was known as the Stop and Tax Act, which Governor Seward reluctantly signed into law on March 29, 1842:

The act provided for the suspension of all canal construction, except that essential to navigation or “necessary to preserve the work already done from destruction by ice or floods.” It also provided for a one-mill [real] property tax. Every dollar generated by the tax and an amount from canal tolls “at least equal to one third of the interest of the canal debt remaining unpaid” were “sacredly” pledged to debt retirement.

Nationwide, the year 1841 had been a grim one economically. Four states – Arkansas, Indiana, Mississippi and Illinois – had defaulted on their debts. The next year was even worse. “Almost every index of economic activity plunged to a record low in 1842.” Amidst this economic carnage, the Stop and Tax Act proved stunningly effective. It “immediately restored confidence in the New York financial system.” State bonds rose to par by September 1842.

New York banks, their reserves buoyed by the rising market for government securities, soon eased credit and injected new money into the stream of commerce. The depression was not yet over. But conditions improved even in the canal counties, and Democrats were quick to claim credit for having saved New York from the battery of [debt] repudiation, suspension and stay laws that had deranged the economics of so many other states.

The New York electorate agreed. Recognizing that he could not win, Seward chose not to seek a third term as governor in the fall of 1842. The voters elected William C. Bouck, “a colorless Democrat,” who took office January 1, 1843. But in the Democrats’ electoral success lay the seeds of future division, for the Stop and Tax contained an ambiguity.

As noted above, the Act “pledged to debt retirement every dollar generated by the [new] property tax and an amount from canal tolls ‘at least equal to one third of the interest of the canal debt remaining unpaid.” The Act did not, however, specify what would happen if revenues unexpectedly increased. “Did the Stop and Tax Act authorize the use of surplus funds on suspended construction projects?”

The Democratic party in New York at the time was more fiscally conservative than former Governor Seward and most Whigs, but within their ranks it was still possible to find a range of opinion. More “radical” hard money men took the position that there should be no further state spending until the existing debt was paid off. In 1841, these radicals had championed a “People’s Resolution,” a proposed constitutional amendment designed to thwart future state spending. It had proposed

that the constitution of the state be so amended, that every law authorizing the borrowing of money . . . shall specify the object for which the money shall be appropriated; and that every such law shall embrace no more than one such object, which shall be singly and specifically stated; that no such law shall take effect until it shall be distinctly submitted to the people at the next general election, and be approved by a majority of the votes cast for and against it.

Other, more “conservative” democrats were prepared to be a bit more flexible when it came to state spending. In part, this reflected their pragmatic understanding that upstate voters depended heavily on the Eric Canal system and would likely punish politicians who dogmatically rejected all funding schemes. Back in 1841, these more conservative legislators had killed the People’s Resolution:

[The] proposed amendment caused an uproar in the New York Democracy [in 1841]. Democratic assemblymen with districts along the Erie Canal, the unfinished “feeder” canals, and the New York & Erie Railroad regarded the People’s Resolution as a kiss of death. Standing for reelection on the Stop and Tax Act, which suspended construction temporarily, would be hard enough. Defeating Whig opponents on a platform that was likely to result in the abandonment of internal improvements by state government would be virtually impossible.

In 1843, Governor Bouck proved to be of the latter, somewhat more moderate, persuasion. As a former member of the State’s Canal Board, he may have been sensitive to the importance of maintaining the canal system, or at least to its political importance. Whatever the reason, in his first annual message on January 3, 1843, the new governor anticipated increased revenues and urged the legislature to authorize spending on renewed canal projects:

“I am convinced that the completion of the unfinished work . . . [on the Erie Canal enlargement] would be essentially useful, and some of it may be indispensably necessary,” Bouck proclaimed. “The speedy completion of the Black River Canal . . . and the Genessee Valley Canal . . . is doubtless anxiously desired by the friends of these improvements. I do not feel that I should faithfully discharge my duty did I not recommend for your careful consideration these portions of the public works.”

Governor Bouck's message “stunned the New York Democracy.” What Martin Van Buren termed “a ruinous schism in our ranks” led to bitter intra-party conflict and legislative stalemate. Excerpts from a report written by William McMurray, a radical Democrat, give some feel for the rancor:

“It was from unjust taxation that our forefathers were impelled to throw off the British yoke,” McMurray wrote; “but not more oppressive or unequal were British impositions than that system which taxes a man in one section of the state for improvements made in another, not only without benefit to him, but frequently to his direct or consequent injury.” In his view, even the phrase internal improvement was a misnomer: “It should rather be called, as it really is, robbery and plunder, inflicted by the strong arm of a bandit government upon the weak, miserable abject and defenseless victims, not of its fostering care, but of its peculation and avarice.”

All quotes are from Professor McCurdy's highly-recommended book.

Martin Van Buren

It’s certainly possible to make the case that Martin Van Buren was one of the most important American political figures of the first half of the 19th Century. The man conceived and constructed the Democratic Party and, with it, the Second Party System, which defined and held the country together between the War of 1812 and the Civil War. Later, the decision of the ultimate party man to accept the nomination of the Free Soil Party in 1848 must have stunned his contemporaries.

At the outset of his biography, Martin Van Buren: The Romantic Age of American Politics, John Niven announces his intention to demonstrate that Van Buren was far more than “an unprincipled manipulator, a magician, a Talleyrand, who debased the pure coin of American democracy through the spoils system.”

There was, Niven argues, “a strong moral fiber to the man, a cast of mind that could transcend the immediate and the practical and adopt the unpopular view because he thought it was right.” Niven cites as an example that decision in 1848:

Though in retirement and against all of his political instincts, Van Buren accepted the nomination of the Free-Soil party for President in the campaign of 1848. He knew he would be defeated, but he was willing to put his reputation on the line to administer what he felt would be a timely warning to southern extremists that the North would resist further expansion of slavery.

Niven seems tacitly to be rejecting the argument that Van Buren’s principal motivation in 1848 was personal (such as getting back at the Democrats who had stymied his nomination in 1844) or parochial (such as getting back at the Polk administration for having sided with the Hunkers in cabinet appointments and patronage). It should be a fascinating read.

About the illustration:

A humorous commentary on Barnburner Democrat Martin Van Buren's opposition to regular Democratic party nominee Lewis Cass. Van Buren and his son John were active in the Free Soil effort to prevent the extension of slavery into new American territories. In this he opposed the conservative Cass, who advocated deferring to popular sovereignty on the question. In "Smoking Him Out," Van Buren and his son (wearing smock, far right) feed an already raging fire in a dilapidated barn. (radical New York Democrats supporting Van Buren were referred to as "Barnburners" because in their zeal for social reforms and anticurrency fiscal policy they were likened to farmers burning their barns to drive out the rats). On the left, Lewis Cass prepares to leap from the roof of the flaming structure while several rats likewise escape below him. The artist seems to favor Van Buren, and his attempt to force the slavery issue in the campaign. The Free Soilers, unlike the Democrats, supported enforcement of the Wilmot Proviso, an act introduced by David Wilmot which prohibited slavery in territories acquired in the Mexican War. John Van Buren, adding another pitchfork of hay to the flames, exclaims, "That's you Dad! more 'Free Soil.' We'll rat'em out yet. Long life to Davy Wilmot."

The Demise of the Whigs: New York 1854

Viewed from a distance, history often looks pretty tidy. Shortly before the Civil War – some one hundred fifty years ago – the Whig party died and was succeeded by the Republican Party. You can say it in a sentence; the transition is seamless; the appearance and eventual triumph of a new party organization seems predestined, inevitable.

Up close and personal, however, it is remarkable how messy the whole process was. There was nothing inevitable about the Republican party. Its leaders included clever tacticians, and they got lucky.

Ironically, it was not even the Republican party that killed off the Whigs. The mid-1850s witnessed a remarkable series of new political issues arise almost out of nowhere that battered both the old Jacksonian Democracy and the Whigs. The Democrats survived. For a variety of reasons, the Whigs did not.

Death took place at different times, and from somewhat different causes, in each state. However, if you had to pick a year in which the Whig party received a mortal blow, it was 1854. I thought I’d take a look at the New York State fall 1854 elections for governor and the state legislature to give you a feel for the utter political chaos of that year.

In his wonderful The Origins of the Republican Party, William Gienapp takes thirteen pages to sort through the election – which will tell you something about the utter confusion that reigned. Obviously, I will not do that here. But bear in mind that this account is tremendously simplified. All quotes are from Professor Gienapp’s book.

To begin with, we have to take a step back, because both the Democrats and Whigs were already badly fractured in New York. The Democratic fracture went back to 1848, when Martin Van Buren deserted the party to run as the presidential candidate of the Free Soil party. Van Buren and his followers, known as the “Barnburners” (as opposed to the “Hunkers” who remained in the party) eventually rejoined the Democrats, creating another fissure. “Hardshells,” or “Hards,” took the position that the Van Buren apostates should be punished by being barred from holding state or federal office. “Softshells,” or “Softs,” were inclined to forgive and readmit the prodigals. In part, these disagreements reflected attitudes toward slavery and the Slave Power, but more fundamentally they concerned factional fights over patronage and personality.

The Whigs, meanwhile, had their own problems. The fundamental division was between the wing of the party controlled by Thurlow Weed and his protégé William Seward, and the so-called “Silver Greys.” The latter were a more conservative, pro-Compromise group, which you can think of, for purposes of convenience, as associated with Millard Fillmore. As with the Democrats, the factions had policy differences, but a good deal of the rivalry grew out of personal animosity and patronage access. You were either fer Weed or agin’ him – and vice versa.

Cutting across these party and factional lines – essentially dicing them up – were a host of issues that were new or assumed increased importance. Old issues that had traditionally divided Democrats and Whigs in New York, such as the Erie Canal, had faded or been resolved. Taking their place were issues that included temperance, immigration, anti-Catholicism and the Slave Power.

As it turned out, there were four candidates for governor:

The incumbent, Horatio Seymour, was a Soft. However, in 1853 he had unexpectedly vetoed a prohibition bill sponsored by Myron Clark, a Whig legislator. A joint Soft-Barnburner convention renominated him. This meant that Seymour would run primarily as an anti-temperance candidate, particularly since disagreements between Softs and Barnburners over Kansas-Nebraska required that that issue be buried.

When combined, Softs and Barnburners significantly outnumbered Hards. Even so, the Hards so resented the rival groups that they went their own way. They nominated their own candidate, Greene Bronson. The Hards, oddly, were both anti-administration (Pierce had sided with the Softs and removed Bronson from a lucrative position) and pro-Nebraska.

At the Whig convention, the Weed-Seward wing battled the Silver Grey faction. Weed was not able to control the convention the way he usually did, but he did retain sufficient influence to engineer the elevation of a candidate he could live with: the pro-temperance Myron Clark, a “pliable” “incompetent who was an admirer of Seward and willing to follow directions from Weed.” The Whig platform and Clark were mildly anti-Nebraska, but Rum (or rather its elimination) was clearly their primary issue.

Late in the campaign, disaffected Silver Greys seized the chance to nominate their own candidate. Taking control of the Know Nothing organization, in October they nominated Daniel Ullmann, “a leading conservative Whig and perpetual office-seeker.” He was known to oppose Kansas-Nebraska, and privately (but not publicly) pledged to sign a temperance law. In effect, Ullmann headed “a separate Know Nothing ticket with a strong Silver Grey taint.”

In this four-way race, Dry Weed Whig Clark actually prevailed, by all of 309 votes out of 469,000 cast, over Soft Wet Seymour:

Clark (Dry Weed Whig) 156,804 33.4%
Seymour (Wet Soft) 156,495 33.3%
Ullmann (Silver Grey KN) 122,282 26.0%
Bronson (Hard) 33,850 7.2%

Even so, the true winners were the Know Nothings – and the true losers were the Whigs. Ullmann had entered the race very late. The Know Nothings had not yet organized in many counties; Ullmann was lackluster and uninspiring; and his pro-temperance views not widely known. Yet where they were organized, the Know Nothing vote swept away the old parties. Observers were stunned:

“Nothing can be assumed from former Elections,” the Albany Evening Herald remarked the day after the election. “Nearly all the old political landmarks are obliterated. Of all parties there has been a regular ‘smash-up’” in the face of “a complete ‘Know Nothing’ stampede.”

Foremost among those swept away were traditional Whigs, who deserted the party in droves. “[T]he nativist vote came primarily from former Whigs and earlier non-voters.” In addition, many of Clark’s votes were based on his dry position – a position that largely overlapped with the views of the KNs (think whiskey-swilling bogtrotters). In short, Clark did not win as a Whig but largely as a pro-temperance KN stand-in, with a few anti-Nebraska votes thrown in:

Despite Clark’s narrow victory, the traditional Whig electoral base had been thoroughly disrupted, since as many Whigs voted for Ullmann as for Clark. [Clark] suffered massive losses among native-born voters, and in fact he ran behind Ullmann in a number of Whig strongholds . . .. At the same time, Clark picked up unexpected support in northern counties, no doubt in part because the Know Nothings had not yet extensively recruited in that area, but also in response to the Whig candidate’s anti-liquor and anti-Nebraska positions.

As a result, most New York Whigs saw the party as finished:

The election had left “the old Whig Organization a mass of ruins,” a Whig paper in upstate New York commented ruefully. “We are utterly wrecked. It is altogether idle to think of a reconstruction of the Whig Party. It is past surgery, past all medicine.” . . . Nativism had sealed the party’s fate. The Know Nothings, as one New York politician remarked, had “torn the Whig strength to pieces.”

One other observation: in New York, there was not a Republican in sight. Former Barnburners had decided not to bolt their party (again), since Soft Seymour was the standard bearer. On the Whig side, Weed and Seward actively resisted the formation of an anti-Nebraska fusion party, because Seward needed Whig votes in the legislature to win reelection to the Senate. But they had at least hoped to make Nebraska the central issue of the campaign. In this they failed utterly: the issues of Rum and Romanism clearly predominated:

With the Nebraska issue swallowed by the forces of ethnocultural conflict, the major parties in turmoil, and a powerful new party having arisen almost overnight (“as if by magic,” one paper claimed), even experienced politicians were at a loss as to what the future would bring. “Parties are now in a state of disorganization – rather of utter anarchy,” a veteran New York Democratic leader observed at the end of the year. “What is to come out of it, no one can foresee.”

The greatest irony, perhaps, was that, as of the end of 1854, many “experienced politicians concluded that the unprecedented opportunity offered by the Nebraska controversy to organize a northern antislavery party had been irretrievably lost.” The analysis of moderate New York Whig Hamilton Fish, surveying the wreckage on December 16, 1854, was not unusual:

Noting that thousands of Whigs, to say nothing of free soil Democrats, had opposed Clark in New York “while the Nebraska issue was still blistering,” [Fish] saw little hope that a new antislavery party could be organized. “The time for ‘fusion’ is in my opinion past,” he proclaimed. “Fire will not burn a second time over the same field.”

Fish and other observers could not know that David Atchison would set fire to same Kansas field again in 1855, and that the flames would burn on and off for three years, until the resolution of the Lecompton crisis in 1858.