"Anyone who thought that Fillmore lacked spine was now disabused"

I have explained in a number of previously published posts how Millard Fillmore's firm and decisive actions in early August 1850 formed the basis for resolution of the crisis that had been building for four years, ever since David Wilmot had introduced his fateful Proviso in August 1846.  In a nutshell (see the posts linked above for more detail), the newly-installed president made clear to the State of Texas that the federal government would fight if state forces attacked the New Mexico territory.

In his newly-published book America's Great Debate: Henry Clay, Stephen A. Douglas, and the Compromise That Preserved the Union, Fergus M. Bordewich points out the guts that this move took:

The following day, August 6 [1850], Fillmore sent his own message to Congress.  [Secretary of State Daniel] Webster may have contributed to it, but to give the president his due, anyone who thought that Fillmore lacked spine was now disabused.  A weak man might well have capitulated to the Texans: Fillmore dug in his well-polished boots.  The president declared unequivocally that New Mexico was federal territory, and that Texas enjoyed no rights or powers beyond her state limits.  "If Texas militia march into any of other States or into any Territory of the United States, there to execute or enforce any law of Texas, they become at that moment trespassers; they are no longer under the protection of any lawful authority, and are to be regarded merely as intruders," he declared.  Should the laws of the United States be opposed or obstructed in any way, it was his duty as commander-in-chief to employ the armed forces as they were needed.

The response to Fillmore's message, especially from northerners in Congress, was highly favorable; from Newport [Rhode Island], Henry Clay sent a telegram offering the president his full support.  The sleekly groomed Fillmore might not be the soldier that hard-edged [Zachary] Taylor had been, but his meaning was equally unmistakable: the United States was ready to go to war.

The president's message shifted the focus from the California issue to Texas-New Mexico.  And the combination of the president's "stick" and the "carrot" represented by the Texas bond bill did the trick:

The real question was: what would [the two Texas senators, Thomas Jefferson Rusk and Sam Houston] do?  Without their support, no compromise would work. . . .  Both . . . knew that federal troops were en route to New Mexico, that the president was firmly committed to resist an invasion, and that without the camouflage of the Omnibus Texas stood no chance of winning congressional recognition for its entire elephantine claim.  Some Texans were also having second thoughts.  "It is unpleasant to impoverish the state and tax our people with insupportable burthens to make war against the U.S. although it is as we all know on our soil," one uneasy constituent wrote to Rusk.

It was over within a matter of days.  On August 9 Rusk and Houston announced their support for the Texas-New Mexico measures.  That day, Stephen Douglas' motion for a third reading of the bill squeaked by, 27 to 24.  "[T]he Texans had tipped the balance."  The final vote on the bill, later that evening, "was decisive, if anticlimactic": 30 votes to 20.

About the illustration at the top, entitled Capability and Availability:

Sharply critical of both the Democratic and Whig choice of presidential candidates in 1852, the artist laments the nomination of two soldiers, Winfield Scott (center) and Franklin Pierce (far right), in preference to several more "capable" statesmen who appear at left. The latter are (left to right): Samuel Houston, John J. Crittenden, Thomas Hart Benton, Millard Fillmore, John Bell, Lewis Cass, Stephen A. Douglas, and Daniel Webster. Most prominent in the group are Fillmore, Cass, and Webster, who also sought the presidential nomination in 1852. Fillmore: "I have sought more anxiously to do what was right; than what would please, and feel no disappointment, at finding that my Conduct has, rendered me an unavailable candidate." Cass: "We have been partizans where we differed in opinions as to the best means of promoting the prosperity and happiness of our native land, but we cast aside, party when we stood Shoulder, to Shoulder, for the Constitution & the Union." Webster: "It is not our fortune to be, or to have been successful Millitary Chieftains. We are nothing but painstaking, hardworking, drudging Civilians, giving our life, and health, and strength, to the maintenance of the Constitution and upholding the liberties of our country." Columbia, draped in stars and stripes and grasping the hands of Scott and Pierce, responds: "I acknowledge your noble services, worth and Constant devotion most Illustrious sons, and that you have the long experience, Sound sense and practical wisdom which fit you to receive the highest honor in my power to bestow, but you are "not Available." " "Availability," in the contemporary lexicon, meant the quality of broad popular appeal. Scott and Pierce were both distinguished in the Mexican War. Scott, holding a liberty staff and Phrygian cap, proclaims: "You see Gentlemen it is "availability" that is required and that is "my" qualification." Pierce holds a shield adorned with stars and stripes, adding, "I am a "Great" man and have done the country "Great" Service! I never knew it before; but it "must be so;" for the Convention has declared it, and the Democracy affirm it." Before his nomination by the Democratic convention of 1852, Pierce was a relatively little known New Hampshire attorney--a fact which Whig publicists tended to exaggerate. Pierce had, after all, served as a two-term congressman and senator from New Hampshire.

"In such State or States . . . slavery . . . shall be prohibited"

I was looking for something else yesterday in David P. Currie's The Constitution in Congress: Descent into the Maelstrom 1829-1861 when this grabbed my attention (emphasis added):

Most notably the [March 1, 1845 Joint Resolution for annexing Texas to the United States] provided that Texas might at any time divide itself into as many as five separate states. . . .

No one objected, moreover when the resolution was amended to require that slavery be prohibited in any state so admitted from [Texas] territory north of the Missouri Compromise line of 36 degrees 30 minutes. The compromise applied only to areas acquired by the Louisiana Purchase; the Texas provision extended the line westward. Not only did the proviso merely reassert Congress's purported authority, exemplified by the compromise itself, to ban slavery in the territories; it imposed a condition on the admission of new states. Southern apologists for the extension of slavery would soon have the unenviable task of explaining it away.

Section 2, Third of the Resolution included the provision that allowed the creation of up to four additional states, in addition to the state of Texas, to be formed out of Texas's territory with its consent:

Third. New States, of convenient size, not exceeding four in number, in addition to said State of Texas, and having sufficient population, may hereafter, by the consent of said State, be formed out of the territory thereof, which shall be entitled to admission under the provisions of the federal constitution.

The same section goes on to provide, as Prof. Currie points out, that slavery "shall be prohibited" in any Texas Tots (as I like to call them) that may be created:

And such States as may be formed out of that portion of said territory [of Texas] lying south thirty-six degrees thirty minutes north latitude, commonly known as the Missouri compromise line, shall be admitted into the Union with or without slavery, as the people of each State asking admission may desire. And in such State or States as shall be formed out of said territory north of said Missouri compromise line, slavery, or involuntary servitude, (except for crime,) shall be prohibited.

"For the sake of peace"

Henry Clay began his defense of his two Texas-related resolutions on January 29, 1850 by setting forth his views on Texas's extensive territorial claims. On the one hand, he maintained “that Texas has not a good title to any portion of what is called New Mexico.” On the other hand, the issue was not entirely clear. “I must say that there is a plausibility, to say the least of it, in the pretensions that she [Texas] sets up to New Mexico. I do not think they [arguments made by Texans] constitute or demonstrate the existence of good title, but a plausible one.”

What, then, did Clay propose? Paraphrasing his 3rd resolution, he briefly described the borders he recommended. These “embrac[ed] a vast country abundantly competent to form two or three States – a country which I think the highest ambition of her greatest men ought to be satisfied with as a State and a member of this Union.”

Perhaps because he knew that his definition of the borders would make Texas supporters unhappy, Clay moved on quickly to the payoff. He described his resolution proposing that the federal government “will provide for the payment of all that portion of the debt of Texas for which the duties received upon imports from foreign countries was pledged by Texas at a time when she had authority to make pledges.”

Although everyone knew that the amount that would be assumed was crucial, Clay denied it:

How much it will amount to I have endeavored to ascertain, but all the means requisite to the ascertainment of the sum have not been received, and it is not very essential at this time, because it is the principle and not the amount that is most worthy of consideration.

The proposal, Clay maintained, was “founded upon principles of truth and eternal justice.” Texas had invited loans to be made to her based upon representations that import duties would be “sacredly pledged” for their repayment. Upon annexation, “[t]he United States became the owners of that pledge and the recipient of all the duties payable in the ports of Texas.”

Now, sir, I do say that, in my humble judgment, if there be honor, or justice, or truth amongst men, we do owe to the creditors who thus advanced their money upon that pledge the reimbursement of that money, at all events to the extent that the pledged fund would have reimbursed it, if it had never been appropriated by us to our use.

In a small but significant way designed to bring joy to the ears of Texas creditors, Clay quickly modified the caveat in the last clause. After annexation and war, “it is impossible now to ascertain how much would have been received from that source by the State of Texas if she had remained independent.” Reimbursement should not, therefore, be limited to the amount of duties collected at Texas ports. The assumption should be that, had Texas remained independent, she would have collected such duties “as would have been adequate to the extinction of the debt to which I have referred.”

Clay then tied his two Texas resolutions together. Clay used his ringing, mesmerizing, room-filling baritone to urge “accommodation” “for the sake of peace”. Try reading his closing words on the Texas issues aloud:

But, sir, it is not merely in the discharge of what I consider to be a valid and legitimate obligation resting upon the United States to discharge the specified duty, it is not upon that condition alone that this payment is proposed to be made; it is also upon the further condition that Texas shall relinquish to the United States any claim that she has to any portion of New Mexico.

Now, sir, although, as I believe, she has not a valid title to any portion of New Mexico, she has a claim; and for the sake of that general quiet and harmony, for the sake of that accommodation which ought to be as much the object of legislation as it is of individuals in their transactions in private life, we may do now what an individual in analogous circumstances might do, give something for the relinquishment of a claim, although it should not be well founded, for the sake of peace.

It is therefore proposed – and this resolution does propose – that we shall pay the amount of the debt contracted by Texas prior to its annexation to the United States, in consideration of our reception of the duties applicable to the extinction of that debt; and that Texas shall also, in consideration of a sum to be advanced, relinquish any claim which she has to any portion of New Mexico.

"And running up that river to the southern line of New Mexico"

In his introductory remarks of January 29, 1850 on his compromise proposals, Henry Clay next unveiled both his third and fourth resolutions, “which having an immediate connection with each other, should be read and considered together.” Both concerned Texas: the third, its boundaries; the fourth, assumption of its debt:

3d. Resolved, That the western boundary of the State of Texas ought to be fixed on the Rio del Norte [the Rio Grande], commencing one marine league from its mouth, and running up that river to the southern line of New Mexico; thence with that line eastwardly, and so continuing in the same direction to the line established between the United States and Spain, excluding any portion of New Mexico, whether lying on the east or west of that river.

4th. Resolved, That it be proposed to the State of Texas that the United States will provide for the payment of all that portion of the legitimate and bona fide public debt of that State, contracted prior to its annexation to the United States, and for which the duties on foreign imports were pledged by the said State to its creditors not exceeding the sum of $_____ in consideration of the said duties so pledged having been no longer applicable to that object after the said annexation, but having thenceforward become payable to the United States; and upon the condition also that the said State of Texas shall, by some solemn and authentic act of her Legislature, or of a convention, relinquish to the United States any claim which it has to any part of New Mexico.

As the final clause of the fourth resolution makes clear, both resolutions in fact were designed to resolve the festering dispute over the border between Texas and New Mexico territory. As I have discussed before, Texas claimed that the Rio del Norte formed its western border all the way up into what is today the State of Colorado (and thence further north into what is now southern Wyoming). This area encompassed a large portion of New Mexico territory, including virtually all of the territory's populated areas.

Before examining Clay's discussion of these points, I'd like to return to a topic I've mentioned before: the location of Clay's proposed boundary. In particular, in an earlier post I noted that uncertainty and disagreement existed concerning what Clay meant, or thought he meant, when he referred to "the southern line of New Mexico." Some assert, and I tentatively endorsed the idea that, Clay must have believed that the southern boundary of New Mexico lay far north of its actual location. I'm now having doubts about that conclusion.

Article V of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo described the boundary between the United States and Mexico as follows (emphasis added):

The boundary line beween the two Republics shall commence in the Gulf of Mexico, three leagues from land, opposite the mouth of the Rio Grande, otherwise called Rio Bravo del Norte, or opposite the mouth of its deepest branch, if it should have more than one branch emptying directly into the sea; from thence up the middle of that river, following the deepest channel, where it has more than one, to the point where it strikes the southern boundary of New Mexico; thence, westwardly, along the whole southern boundary of New Mexico (which runs north of the town called Paso) to its western termination; thence, northward, along the western line of New Mexico, until it intersects the first branch of the river Gila; (or if it should not intersect any branch of that river, then to the point on the said line nearest to such branch, and thence in a direct line to the same); thence down the middle of the said branch and of the said river, until it empties into the Rio Colorado; thence across the Rio Colorado, following the division line between Upper and Lower California, to the Pacific Ocean.

The southern and western limits of New Mexico, mentioned in the article, are those laid down in the map entitled "Map of the United Mexican States, as organized and defined by various acts of the Congress of said republic, and constructed according to the best authorities. Revised edition. Published at New York, in 1847, by J. Disturnell," of which map a copy is added to this treaty, bearing the signatures and seals of the undersigned Plenipotentiaries. And, in order to preclude all difficulty in tracing upon the ground the limit separating Upper from Lower California, it is agreed that the said limit shall consist of a straight line drawn from the middle of the Rio Gila, where it unites with the Colorado, to a point on the coast of the Pacific Ocean, distant one marine league due south of the southernmost point of the port of San Diego, according to the plan of said port made in the year 1782 by Don Juan Pantoja, second sailing-master of the Spanish fleet, and published at Madrid in the year 1802, in the atlas to the voyage of the schooners Sutil and Mexicana; of which plan a copy is hereunto added, signed and sealed by the respective Plenipotentiaries.

In order to designate the boundary line with due precision, upon authoritative maps, and to establish upon the ground land-marks which shall show the limits of both republics, as described in the present article, the two Governments shall each appoint a commissioner and a surveyor, who, before the expiration of one year from the date of the exchange of ratifications of this treaty, shall meet at the port of San Diego, and proceed to run and mark the said boundary in its whole course to the mouth of the Rio Bravo del Norte. They shall keep journals and make out plans of their operations; and the result agreed upon by them shall be deemed a part of this treaty, and shall have the same force as if it were inserted therein. The two Governments will amicably agree regarding what may be necessary to these persons, and also as to their respective escorts, should such be necessary.

The boundary line established by this article shall be religiously respected by each of the two republics, and no change shall ever be made therein, except by the express and free consent of both nations, lawfully given by the General Government of each, in conformity with its own constitution.

Henry Clay presumably had access to both the treaty and to a copy of the Disturnell map referenced in Article V. That map, a copy of which appears at the top of this post (click to enlarge) is quite clear as to where the southern border of New Mexico is. Consistent with the treaty, the maps shows that boundary as running slightly north of El Paso.

It is true that the map appears to be inaccurate in one respect. The map identifies the 32 degree north latitude line (which I have drawn in red on the Disturnell map). It shows the southern border of New Mexico (which I have drawn in blue on the Disturnell map) as lying somewhat north of 32 degrees north. Furthermore, it shows El Paso as lying north of 32 north latitude, but south of the southern border of New Mexico.

In fact, El Paso is slightly south of 32 degrees (according to this site, it is 31 degrees 48 minutes north).

Comparison with a contemporary map may make the slight discrepancy clearer. The northern border of west Texas, which is also the southern border of the State of New Mexico in that area is the 32 degrees north latitude line. El Paso lies just south of that line. The Disturnell map shows the 32 degrees north latitude line just south of El Paso.

This discrepancy, even if noticed, could hardly have confused Henry Clay (or anyone else) into thinking that "the southern line of New Mexico" lay at 34 degrees north latitude (the northernmost line on both the Disturnell and the contemporary map). As you will see, that line lies far to the north, pretty close to the base of what is now the Texas Panhandle.

Obviously I cannot know what geographic misconceptions Henry Clay may have had. But it really stretches credibility to think that he was that far off.

"But did any of the presidents ever think of marching troops upon the line?"

As I discussed in my last post concerning John Calhoun, Texas and Mexico, Senator Calhoun maintained that the treaty annexing Texas intentionally failed to define the border between that state and Mexico. He used this as the starting point for raising a “great question”: if the boundary was undetermined, what gave the president, rather than Congress, the right to determine where it lay?

But the great question comes up, has the Executive the right to determine what our boundary is? When we have a disputed boundary question – and we have had many – does it belong to the Executive or to Congress to determine it? There are two ways to do it. One is by negotiation and treaty, to be performed by the Executive and this body, in case the two nations agreed to negotiate. The other is, if the party disputes the boundary and will not come to terms, for Congress to declare where the boundary is, and maintain it, if need be, at the hazard of war.

By way of example, Calhoun cited the border between Maine and Canadian Great Britain. That border had been long undetermined, and yet no president had attempted to define the boundary himself by “marching troops upon the line”:

How long did the boundary of the Maine remain unsettled? From the acknowledgement of independence, in 1783, down to the time that the Senator from Massachusetts [Daniel Webster] closed it by a treaty [the Webster-Ashburton Treaty of 1842]. But did any of the presidents ever think of marching troops upon the line?

The late David P. Currie suggested that Calhoun did, in fact, raise an “intriguing” constitutional issue. While there was certainly something to be said for the proposition “that the president ought not to be required to surrender disputed territory to an occupying rival,” the fact was that Mexican forces had not advanced into “the controverted zone” – the area between the Nueces and the Rio Grande – before Zachary Taylor did so:

The intermediate possibility that the true boundary was unknown presented an intriguing opportunity for speculation. On the one hand there was a certain appeal to the defenders insistence that the president ought not to be required to surrender disputed territory to an occupying rival; he walked at least to be able to preserve the status quo. On the other hand, opponents pointed out with much just as that in the arguably analogous case of the Maine it was Congress that had empowered the president to prevent hostile military occupation of the disputed area. In any event, although Mexico had recently amassed troops along the Rio Grande, before Taylor’s advance it had made no military incursion into the controverted zone; Mexico had been in peaceable occupation of the Rio Grande valley, Texas in that of the Nueces for some years.

"Polk confused Mexico's warlike acts with a legal state of war"

Pardon a brief interruption of the generally chronological narrative concerning John C. Calhoun, Texas and Mexico, but I would like to go back and supplement an earlier post on the subject.

You may recall that in May 1846 the Polk administration did not exactly seek a declaration of war from Congress. Instead it in effect asked Congress to confirm that war already existed. One of Calhoun’s stated objections to the resolution was that it failed to distinguish between the fact of “hostilities” and the legal conclusion that a state of war existed.

In his The Constitution in Congress: Descent into the Maelstrom 1829-1861, the late David P. Currie discusses Calhoun’s objection and finds it well taken:

Opponents correctly complained that Polk was not asking Congress to decide whether the United States should go to war, as was its right; he was asking for a mere confirmation of the fact that war already existed. . . . As Calhoun and others protested, Polk confused Mexico’s warlike acts with a legal state of war, which could not exist without congressional sanction. . . . At the end of the day, however, the distinction evaporated. Congress voted to declare the existence of war, and that was all the Constitution required.

About the illustration:

A satirical view of the scramble among newly elected President James K. Polk's 1844 campaign supporters, or "patriots," for "their beans," i.e., patronage and other official favors. Polk (upper right) sits in the Presidential Chair, his hands folded and apparently oblivious to the activity around him. From behind the chair Andrew Jackson prompts him, "That's right Jemmy, Non Committal. By the Eternal you're a chip of the old block." To Polk's right a group of homely women present a petition and ask, "Can't you do something for us? we are poor weak women in great danger of being seduced! We want a proclamation in behalf of our Moral Reform Society." Below him John Beauchamp Jones and Francis Preston Blair, editors of influential rival newspapers, the "Madisonian" and the "Globe," fight for the privilege of being the administration organ. In the center an Irishman, hat in hand, approaches Polk and asks, "Plaze yer honor's worship, can't ye do somethin' for me? I was bor-r-n in Boston and rared in New-Yor-r-k, be the howly St. Patrick, and nivver a bit of an office have I had yet." Nearby, a German or Dutchman walks away in disgust shouting, "Dod rot this administration! I've lost my sittivation that Tyler give me, that was worth $15 a year! Dod rot 'em, I say!" In the foreground Secretary of State James Buchanan asks a small, ragged figure, "What Office do you expect, my man?" The man, a Rhode Islander, responds, " . . . I was an Officer with Govr. Dorr, and I should like to be an Officer agin; but I ain't perticklar, if you haint got no office may be you've got some old Clothes to give me!" Dorr was the leader of an abortive revolution in Rhode Island in 1842. (See Trouble in the Spartan Ranks, no. 1843-6). At left South Carolinian John C. Calhoun, a frustrated aspirant for the 1844 Democratic nomination, rides off on a velocipede saying, "Let this Poke manage two stools if he can, I'll cut my stick, and be off for the sunny south." Above, in the background, members of the "Empire Club" wave their hats and fire a cannon. They may represent the expansionist platform on which Polk campaigned, which many Whigs feared would provoke war with Mexico. In the left foreground is a motley militia troop carrying a banner "For Oregon!! Liberty! or Death!!!" Their leader proclaims, "Follow me brave soldiers, strike but one blow, and Oregon is ours!" Polk's campaign platform favored reannexation of the Oregon Territory.

John Calhoun: "The line was intentionally left open"

Attentive readers may recall that, in his February 12, 1847 speech denouncing John C. Calhoun’s claimed inconsistency concerning Mexico, Senator Hopkins L. Turney asserted that the annexation treaty submitted to the Senate in 1844 had described the territory of Texas as extending to the Rio Grande:

As Secretary of State, [Calhoun] had concluded the treaty with the republic of Texas by which she was to be annexed to the United States. He (Mr. T.) had never read that paper, but he understood that it extended the territory of Texas to the Rio Grande.

In his reply, Calhoun now pounced on Turney’s mistake:

But the senator [Mr. Turney] says I had stipulated in that treaty that the Rio Grande was the boundary.

Mr. TURNEY. I remarked that I had never read the treaty, but I understood that its terms went to the Rio Grande.

Mr. CALHOUN. The senator is just as wrong in that as in all his understandings. No such thing; the line was intentionally left open. . . . It was expressly left open, in order that the boundary might be subsequently established by negotiation with Mexico. . . . As soon as the treaty was signed, I communicated directly with the Mexican Government, through our charge d’affaires, and stated that I was ready to settle all questions of difference, and amongst others the boundary, upon the most liberal principles. I did not apprehend that war would follow. But I am held responsible on the ground that if Texas had not been annexed, we should not have had a Mexican war. Is he sure of that?

Calhoun may not have “apprehend[ed] that war would follow”, but he clearly understood that war was possible. Norma Lois Peterson points out that Calhoun tried to communicate with Mexico precisely “to dispel fears of war with Mexico should annexation become a reality.”

After the treaty had been signed but before it was sent to the Senate, Calhoun tried to dispel fears of war with Mexico should annexation become a reality. The threat of hostilities, he felt, could stand in the way of ratification; therefore, he talked several times with Juan Nepomuceno Almonte, Mexico’s minister to the United States, to explore the possibility of Mexico’s accepting a financial settlement to compensate for the loss of Texas and explain how crucial it was for the United States to annex Texas in order to prevent British intrigue in the that area. Calhoun sent conciliatory dispatches to Mexico by special messenger, hoping for a signal of approval before the Senate voted on the treaty.

Calhoun’s decision to emphasize the fact that the treaty failed to specify the boundary of Texas was merely the introduction to a larger point he wished to make. But for that, dear readers, you will have to await the next post.

"I placed the question on its true ground"

Having described his understanding of British intentions as of April 1843 when he became Secretary of State, John C. Calhoun then provided a tantalizing summary of his intentions in writing the Pakenham Letter and thus casting annexation as a pro-slavery issue:

The time had come to act, and for consequences to be met, be they what they might. I accepted the office with all these difficulties before me. I said this office is unacceptable to me. I go in it with no small share of reputation, if I may judge from appearances. I shall experience great difficulty in accomplishing the object for which I have been appointed and may lose much reputation; but I must do my duty. I undertook it, and when I undertake a thing I go straightforward to it. I placed the question on its true ground, that this movement was intended to bring Texas under the control of England, with a view to abolish slavery there, and through that, abolishing it throughout the country. A treaty was formed, and it shared the fate that might have almost been expected from the weakness of the Administration. It was defeated.

While obviously inconclusive, Calhoun’s remarks may be read to support my earlier speculation as to his motives. Calhoun apparently knew from the start that passage of the annexation treaty was a long shot at best. The outcome was likely to be so lopsided that he feared his reputation would suffer. Reframing the debate in terms of slavery in order to attract southern Whigs thus had little or no downside. While Calhoun and the administration would probably still go down to defeat, at least he would have “do[ne his] duty” and “placed the question on its true ground.”

Lord Brougham Questions Lord Aberdeen, August 18, 1843

Continuing his remarks in the Senate on February 12, 1847, John C. Calhoun described his understanding of the intentions of the British government with respect to Mexico as of early 1844, when he assumed office as Secretary of State:

What was then the condition of Texas? She was weak, and could not long remain without the support of England or the United States. The British Government saw this, and commenced its operations under the suggestion of the World’s Convention, by pressing Mexico to recognize her independence on condition of abolishing slavery.

As we have seen, Calhoun based his understanding on communications from Duff Green and at least one letter from Ashbel Smith, the Texas minister to Great Britain. Calhoun and other southerners, inclined to see anti-slavery conspiracies, also thought they detected public confirmation by the British government.

They pointed in particular to an exchange in the House of Lords on August 18, 1843 between Lord Aberdeen and his political opponent Lord [Henry] Brougham, “a Whig who opposed both slavery and the slave trade.” Brougham asked what the government was doing to stop the sale of slaves from the United States to Texas. Norma Lois Peterson describes Aberdeen’s response, which alarmed southerners:

The foreign secretary tried to structure his reply in a manner that would neither offend the anti-slavery British public nor unduly alarm the United States. He began by announcing the armistice between Mexico and Texas, which had been arranged with the help of Great Britain, and he said he was willing to continue his country’s good offices until a firm peace could be established. Further, he reiterated his usual statement: namely, that the entire world knew the position of the British government on the subject of slavery – that it desired to see slavery terminated everywhere eventually. The Aberdeen–Brougham exchange was reported in the London Morning Chronicle on the following day.

In short, here was clear evidence that Britain was intervening in Texan affairs, coupled with a statement of its intent to remain involved in the Texas – Mexico negotiations. Moreover, as Professor Peterson explains,

the general nature of Aberdeen’s statements, the American pro-annexationists insisted, indicated that he had something to will hide, he was not revealing all. Britain, they were certain, did intend to interfere in Texas, using humanitarianism as a ruse; but the real reason was not a noble one, and there seemed to be enough truth in their accusations to convince some doubters. Certainly, Britain had no wish to see the United States expand its domain to include the strategically located Lone Star Republic, an area that was capable of raising, with slave labor, cotton and other products to compete with those produced by British colonies.

Stephen Pearl Andrews Meets With Lord Aberdeen

In my last post, I quoted John C. Calhoun as asserting that it was his understanding that in 1843 “an interview had taken place between Lord Aberdeen and a deputation of the World’s Convention.” Lord Aberdeen was then the British Foreign Secretary. The “World’s Convention” was a meeting of the British and Foreign Anti-slavery Society held in England in June 1843.

Calhoun was, apparently, the recipient of misinformation. A meeting was held, but in fact no agreement was reached. Norma Lois Peterson relates the bizarre story.

Stephen Pearl Andrews was a “young abolitionist,” originally from Massachusetts. “In the summer of 1843, Andrews was in England for the purposes of raising funds to purchase and emancipate Texas slaves and of enlisting the British government’s assistance in the project.” Andrews attended the “World’s Convention” in June 1843 and also met with Lord Aberdeen and other British politicians. Aberdeen “listened politely to [Andrews’s] plan, but . . . made no promise of a loan.”



Thereafter, Andrews met with Ashbel Smith, Texas’ minister in London.

[A]ccording to Smith, Andrews had assured him that a loan had been promised [by Aberdeen]. Without verifying it, Smith gave this account to [Duff] Green and to his government in Texas; Smith did not say it came only from Andrews. A few weeks later, after hearing Aberdeen’s explanation of the meeting, Smith had to send a retraction to his secretary of state.

This sort of story meshed precisely with Duff Green’s visions of a conspiracy between international abolitionists and the British government, and he swallowed it hook, line and sinker. Green promptly relayed Smith’s account of the Aberdeen-Andrews meeting to Washington – and to Calhoun.

It is, apparently, not clear whether Andrews or Smith was primarily at fault for misreporting Aberdeen’s reaction. Andrews may have placed the most optimistic spin on Aberdeen’s diplomatic evasions. But Smith, too, was predisposed to see conspiracies:

Smith, as a very strong advocate of annexation, was not above spreading propaganda in an effort to frighten the United States into moving on the issue. A month earlier, probably at the instigation of Green, Smith had written directly to Calhoun. Smith expressed his sincere belief that Great Britain’s ultimate purpose was to make Texas a refuge for runaway slaves from the South and eventually to turn that republic into “a Negro nation, a sort of Hayti on the continent,” under the protection of the British government.

The "World's Convention" of abolitionists targets Texas

Having explained why he accepted the position of Secretary of State in March 1844, John C. Calhoun, speaking in the Senate on February 12, 1847, discussed why he then (in 1844) viewed the annexation of Texas as essential. Calhoun asserted that he had information indicating that representatives of a “World’s Convention” of abolitionists (this is apparently a reference to a convention held during June 1843 in Exeter by the British and Foreign Anti-slavery Society for the Abolition of Slavery and the Slave-Trade Throughout the World), had urged the British government to intervene in Texas “to aim a fatal blow at slavery”:

But circumstances made action on it [annexation] inevitable. I ascertained [apparently in 1843], from sources perfectly reliable, that at the World’s Convention, the American delegation suggested to the Abolitionists of England, that then was the time to act, and if they wished to aim a fatal blow at slavery, it must be in Texas, and in order to do that, England must obtain control there.

I received information – I will not say official – but from a quarter in which there could be no mistake, that an interview had taken place between Lord Aberdeen and a deputation of the World’s Convention. I was then at home in South Carolina, and immediately transmitted to the Secretary of State [Abel P. Upshur] that information, accompanied by my opinion that it demanded instant attention. I suppose that letter and my communication formed one of the reasons for the movement then made for annexation.

Calhoun’s unnamed informant was likely Duff Green. President Tyler had sent Green as an unofficial agent to France in the Fall of 1841 and to London in the Spring of 1843. For those of you who are not familiar with him, Green was, as they say, a piece of work. Norma Lois Peterson provides an amusing summary of this quirky man. The decision to send Green to Europe, Prof. Peterson notes,

was a strange and unwise choice. Green, who had an overly inflated ego, considered himself a “master manipulator” and an expert in international affairs. In reality, he an irresponsible and dangerous person to have abroad . . .. Green was a Calhoun man. His daughter was married to Calhoun’s son, but their political ties were more important than the relationship by marriage. During the nullification crisis of the early 1830s, Green, then editor of the United States Telegraph, had given his complete support to the South Carolinian . . . [and] they were close personal friends.

The evidence, Prof. Peterson believes, suggests that Calhoun and Upshur pushed Green’s appointment, and that he fed them the same sorts of information that he reported to Tyler:

In all probability, Calhoun, through Upshur, suggested Green for the European assignment, and although Green went as Tyler’s personal representative, he kept Calhoun and Upshur as well, if not better, informed of his “observations” than he did the president. Green’s deep desire was to see Calhoun in the White House.

What information was Green feeding to Tyler – and presumably to Calhoun as well? Prof. Peterson summarizes it as follows:

During the spring and summer of 1843, Green constantly warned about a British plot to abolish slavery in Texas, not from any humanitarian motivation, but in the hope of checking the expansion of the United States and fostering the dissolution of the Union. With a few alterations from time to time, Green’s scenario . . . went as follows: Britain would encourage Texas, with promises of interest-free loans and support against Mexico, to emancipate all slaves in the Lone Star Republic. With Texas a free area, runaway slaves from the United States would seek sanctuary there. American slave owners would attempt to recover their property. Border incidents would occur, but the government in Washington, increasingly controlled by the North, would refuse to aid the slave owners. The South would have no choice but to secede from the Union.

"To no act in my life do I revert with more entire satisfaction"

John C. Calhoun responded immediately to the accusations that Sen. Hopkins L. Turney made in the Senate on February 12, 1847. Calhoun’s reply includes the only explanation he ever gave, to the best of my knowledge, as to why he cast the drive to annex Texas as a pro-slavery measure. By inference, it is only occasion on which he suggested, at least indirectly, why he sent the Pakenham Letter, which I discussed in several previous posts.

Calhoun’s defense of his conduct embraced a number of topics. He again adamantly denied, for example, that his actions or votes had been influenced by a desire for the presidency. He also vigorously denied the claim that he had not voted in favor of bills providing the troops in the field with provisions and other support.

Turning to the question of his actions in connection with the annexation of Texas, Calhoun initially provided only a brief defense: annexation was a “pure necessity.” When he expressed doubt that the Senate wanted to take the time to hear further explanation, his colleagues urged him to continue:

[Sen. Turney] spoke of the responsibility for the war as arising from the annexation of Texas. I take a deep interest in the measure of annexation, and to no act in my life do I revert with more entire satisfaction. Annexation at that time, according to my opinion, was a question of pure necessity. I might go into this matter if it would not occupy the time of the Senate. (Cries of “go on”).

Apparently satisfied that the Senate was prepared to hear him out, Calhoun continued. He began by discussing his decision to accept the position of Secretary of State following the death of Abel P. Upshur on February 28, 1844. Calhoun tacitly admitted that he was aware of the secret treaty negotiations with the Republic of Texas in which John Tyler and Upshur had been involved. The president, a political outcast, desperately needed help to pass what Calhoun then viewed as “a very important measure”:

According to my view, the time was not propitious in one aspect.

The then President had no party in either House. I am not certain he had a single supporter in this [i.e., the Senate]; and not more than four or five in the other. It appeared to me to be a very unpropitious moment, under such circumstances, to carry through so important a measure. When it was intimated to me that I would be nominated for the office of Secretary of State, I strongly remonstrated against it to my friends here [in Washington]; but before my remonstrance reached them [Calhoun was in South Carolina at the time] I was unanimously appointed, and was compelled to accept. I saw that the Administration was weak, and that that very important measure would be liable to be defeated.

Merrill D. Peterson points out the many incentives that Calhoun had in March 1844 to accept the post of Secretary of State:

Calhoun accepted with such alacrity because he saw an opportunity to serve the South and the Union by the consummation of Texas annexation and settlement of the Oregon boundary. And who can doubt that he also saw an opportunity, as James G. Blaine later suggested, to exact "an historic revenge which the noblest minds might indulge" on Martin Van Buren?

Mr. T. Calls Out Mr. C.

In my periodic posts about John C. Calhoun and Mexico, I most recently reviewed the Senator’s February 9, 1847 speech advocating an immediate end to the war. Days later, a Democratic Senator condemned Calhoun as a hypocrite.

The accuser in question was one of the more obscure Senators of the period (at least to me). Hopkins L. Turney. Democrat of Tennessee, served a single term in the Senate, from 1845 to 1851.

On February 12, 1847, Sen. Turney delivered remarks in the Senate in which he, among other things, accused Calhoun and others of blocking measures necessary to support the war and the army in the field. In the process, he portrayed Calhoun (without naming him) and unnamed allies as constituting “a party . . . that might properly be termed the Balance of Power party.” This party, Turney suggested, sided now with the Democrats, now with the Whigs, in order to bolster the presidential aspirations of its leader.

Calhoun adamantly denied that his views and votes were “governed by the paltry and miserable consideration of being President of the United States.” Calhoun maintained that he voted at different times in accord with different parties precisely because he was he was not part of “the wretched system of caucusing, which has created in every State a party of men who work in concert to get offices for purposes of plunder.” He was “an independent Senator, governed by my own views, going for the good of the country, uncontrolled by anything which mortal man can bring to bear upon me.”

As for the war, Calhoun had not voted for it on the merits. “I saw in this very war what every man now begins to see – consequences which deterred me; and we are not at the bottom yet.”

In reply, Turney twisted the knife. Had not Calhoun been a principal advocate of annexation of Texas with a boundary of the Rio Grande? Was it not inevitable that annexation would lead to war? In fact, Turney maintained, Calhoun “had done more to bring this country into war now than any other man in the United States.”

[T]he annexation of Texas produced the war. . . . After that act war was inevitable. It was . . . predicted by the Whigs. . . . The Senator from South Carolina had done more to bring it about than any other man in the United States, for he had effected the annexation. He voted to recognize the independence of Texas in General Jackson’s time, and had been very influential in bringing annexation about subsequently. As Secretary of State, he had concluded the treaty with the republic of Texas by which she was to be annexed to the United States. He (Mr. T.) had never read that paper, but he understood that it extended the territory of Texas to the Rio Grande.

After an uproar and call to order, Sen. Turney resumed his indictment:

[T]he Senator from South Carolina did more to bring the war upon the country than any other man in the United States. What then? Texas was annexed. After she was annexed, it was declared by her Minister that annexation would be regarded as an act of hostility. He demanded his passports, and returned to Mexico. The United States Government sent their Minister to Mexico, with powers to negotiate all these matters, and Mexico refused to receive him. She then sent her army to the frontier, and invaded the territory of the United States. She claimed the whole of Texas; and yet the Senator voted against the bill, passed at the last session, giving men and money to resist the invasion, on the ground, as he (Mr. T.) understood, that the preamble of that bill was not true. That preamble asserted that the war had been brought about by Mexico.

It is worth stopping to note that Sen. Turney’s description of Calhoun’s actions and positions in the earlier session is not entirely correct. Calhoun did not vote against the bill; he abstained. Although Calhoun’s objection to the bill did focus on the preamble, Turney garbles the substance of Calhoun’s complaint. These events were the subject of an earlier post.

Turney then drew, or at least implied, his conclusion. “[S]ome powerful motive” – presumably thirst for the presidency – was responsible for Calhoun’s inconsistent positions:

Now, it would seem to him (Mr. T.) to require some powerful motive to induce anybody to bring his country into the war, and then, after getting her into the war, to back out of it, if not to denounce it as unjust and unconstitutional in direct terms!

John C. Calhoun: "To whose benefit should [Mexican territory] enure?"

It has been a while, but when we last visited John Calhoun, he was explaining to the Senate on February 9, 1847 his proposed resolution to the war with Mexico.

After describing the line that he would draw, Calhoun circled back to outline its advantages. First, it would "enable us to fulfil all the objects for which the war was declared." Second, it was cheap. The border could be maintained with a handful of forts. The fact that the border would run through areas far from the principal Mexican population made it all the more defensible.

This, in turn, meant that the federal government could save tens of millions of dollars. The taxes that would be necessary to fund continued war would be eliminated, increased tariffs could be avoided, and free trade maintained:

What . . . will be the fruits of this policy? Why, sir, a large portion of the war expenses will be immediately cut off . . . thus effecting a savings of from fifteen to twenty millions of dollars a year. Further taxes will not be required; the credit of this Government will be immediately strengthened, and the measure which some of us have so much at heard, and which we are risking the enjoyment of -- I mean free trade -- may in a short time be secured . . ..

Conversely, continuation of the war threatened increased tariffs and would require the government also to impose "internal taxes." The people would not stand for it:

[C]an you provide the ways and means [to continue the war]? I fear there will be more difficulty in this than you imagine. Remember, that you have only as a reliance your treasury notes and such money as you can borrow. You must either borrow or impose taxes. What taxes can you impose? Your taxes upon imports can give you but a small supply; you must resort to internal taxes, a measure which is abhorred by the people of this country more perhaps than by those of any country upon the face of the earth.

Some of the states were already choking on debt, Calhoun maintained, and would not tolerate more:

[M]any of the States are indebted more than they can pay. If you lay an internal tax, it must be laid uniformly throughout all the States; and if you lay it upon those States thus indebted, will not repudiation extend? Will Pennsylvania, with a debt of forty millions -- will those States which are unable to discharge their obligations -- will they bear such a tax? No, sir.

Calhoun then turned to the sectional conflict that the seizure of all of Mexico would create. In a phrase, would slavery be permitted in Mexico? (Here, as in earlier posts, I am converting the third-person reporting of the Congressional Globe to the first person.)

But there is a still deeper, a still more terrific difficulty to be met -- a difficulty more vital than those to which I have alluded -- a difficulty arising out a division of sentiment which goes to the very foundation of our Government. How should these lands be acquired, if any are acquired? To whose benefit should they enure? Should they inure to the exclusive benefit of one portion of the Union? We are told, and I am fearful that appearances too well justify the assertion, that all parties in the non-slaveholding portion of the Union insist that they should have the exclusive control of this acquired territory -- that such provision should be made as should exclude those who are interested in the institutions of the South from a participation in the advantages to be derived from the application of these institutions to the territory thus acquired.

Calhoun put his northern colleagues on notice: if northerners were determined that territory acquired from Mexico would be slave-free, they could be assured that southerners would be equally adamant in demanding protection of their rights:

Sir, if the non-slaveholding States, having no other interests in the question except their aversion to slavery -- if they can come to this conclusion with no interest in the matter but this, I turn and ask gentlemen, what must be the feeling of the population of the slaveholding States, who are to be deprived of their constitutional rights, and despoiled of the property belonging to them -- assailed in the most vulnerable point, for to them this question is a question of safety, of self-preservation, and not a mere question of policy; and thus to be despoiled by those who are not concerned?

If there is sternness and determination [on] one side, you may be assured there will be on the other. If I may judge from what I have heard, from the appearances proceeding from the non-slaveholding States -- and I have no reason to doubt it, they being the first to cry out for a vigorous prosecution of the war -- can you suppose that less feeling will be exhibited on the part of those who are to be entirely excluded from their rights, and while this radical difference exists between them?

John C. Calhoun: "The line which I would suggest . . ."

In recent posts, we have seen that Senator John C. Calhoun opposed the Polk administration’s rush to war against Mexico in May 1846. By the end of the year, his concern had deepened. He saw the war as a disaster for the south. Continuation of the war threatened consolidation and increased tariffs. Most of all, Calhoun feared, acquisition of territory threatened to ignite a campaign by Free Soilers to demonize the South by moving to bar slavery from any land taken from Mexico.

On February 9, 1847, the Senate was debating the president’s so-called “Three Million Bill.” This was, ironically, the successor to the original appropriation request that had spawned the Wilmot Proviso in August 1846. The original bill had died at the end of the last session. Now, six months later, the administration was still seeking an appropriation “to bring the war with Mexico to a speedy and honorable conclusion.” In other words, the president wanted money with which to purchase territory from Mexico as part of a hoped-for treaty.

Calhoun decided to use the bill as an opportunity to address a more general issue: what, in fact, was the purpose of the war and, given that purpose, how should it be fought and concluded?

The principal purposes of the war, Calhoun asserted, were twofold: first, to repel invasion of Texas; and second, to establish the Rio Grande as the southern and western border of Texas. A third, subsidiary object was “to obtain payment of the indemnities due to our citizens for claims which they held against Mexico.”

Having defined the “objects” of the war, Calhoun then addressed the question, “How shall [the war] be conducted to enable us most advantageously to effect all of [those] objects?” The answer, he stated, lay in a limited, defensive war, and not the offensive war in which the administration was engaged:

I hold, then, Mr. President – such being the objects of the war – that all those objects for which it was declared can be accomplished by taking a defensive position. Two of them have been already thoroughly effected. The invasion has been repelled by two brilliant victories; the Rio del Norte [Rio Grande] is held from its source to its mouth as the American boundary; a single Mexican soldier does not remain within our territory; and such has been the success of our arms, that we have not only acquired enough territory from them, but vastly more than enough to indemnify us for the expenses of the war, if it should be the judgment of this body that it would be a sound, wise, or just policy on our part to seek such indemnity.

Using a phrase he had used privately, Calhoun condemned the dismemberment of Mexico as “forbidden fruit” that would destroy the United States (here I am converting the third person reporting in the Congressional Globe to the first person):

There is a mysterious connexion between the fate of this country and that of Mexico. Her independence and respectability, and capability of maintaining all those relations, are almost as essential to us as they are to Mexico. Mexico is to us forbidden fruit; if we should consume that fruit, it would be almost tantamount to the political death of our own institutions.

Calhoun did not immediately elaborate on why Mexico was “forbidden fruit.” He turned instead to the practical, bottom-line issue: where should the boundary between the United States and Mexico be drawn? The line, Calhoun argued, needed to be defensible and “eminently pacific” – that is, sensitive to Mexico’s needs, so that it would lead to a “speedy” and “permanent peace.” Based on these considerations, Calhoun proposed a boundary that was (if I understand him correctly) quite similar to the boundary ultimately negotiated by Nicholas Trist:

The line which I would suggest is one beginning at the mouth of the Rio del Norte [the Rio Grande] and extending up to the pass of the del Norte, a southern boundary of New Mexico, and thence due west to the Gulf of California. Such a line would strike the Gulf nearly at its head.

My knowledge of southwestern geography is weak, but “the pass of the del Norte” presumably refers to the area around what is now El Paso, Texas, and the 1847 map at the top shows "Paso del Norte" at about that location. Drawing a line due west from El Paso does in fact “strike the Gulf nearly at its head.”

As we shall see, Calhoun seems to have been most concerned about heading off a more aggressive outcome: a resolution of the war in which the United States would swallow all, or substantially all, of Mexico. But it is equally interesting that he failed to urge an even more conservative conclusion to the war, one in which the United States acquired no territory other than Texas expanded to the limits claimed by its most extravagant advocates, with a western border snaking north up along the Rio Grande and then farther north through what is now Colorado and into southern Wyoming.

It is certainly reasonable to suspect that this is the outcome that Calhoun would really have preferred. Logically, confirming the United States’ claim to an expansive Texas, but acquiring nothing else, was the only result that would avoid clashes with free soilers over slavery in the territories.

A navigable version of the map at the top of the post may be found here.

"Mexico is to us the forbidden fruit"

On May 15, 1846, three days after the Senate effectively authorized war against Mexico over his objection, John C. Calhoun wrote to fellow South Carolinian Henry W. Conner a letter in which he apparently alluded to the underlying source of his concern. "Mexico," Calhoun warned, "is to us the forbidden fruit; the penalty of eating it [is] to subject our institutions to political death."

Three months later, David Wilmot introduced his famous proviso.

John Calhoun on the War Against Mexico: "It is monstrous"

Having devoted several posts to John C. Calhoun’s Pakenham Letter, I’d like to turn to an event in Calhoun’s career several years later. It’s one that I’ve always found somewhat odd and jarring in light of Calhoun’s earlier advocacy of Texas annexation.

On Monday May 11, 1846, President James K. Polk delivered to Congress a Message concerning relations with Mexico. To make a long story short, Polk reported that the Mexican government had in March refused to receive John Slidell, whom Polk had sent there (so Polk asserted) to seek peace. Then, on April 24, 1846, Mexican troops had attacked American troops on the north side of the Rio Grande, resulting in “some sixteen” American casualties, and others “appear to have been surrounded and captured.”

“[W]ar exists,” the president asserted. And with “[w]ar actually existing,” he called on Congress “to recognize the existence of the war, and to place at the disposition of the Executive the means of prosecuting the war with vigor, and thus hastening the restoration of peace.”

What I find both jarring and fascinating is that John Calhoun opposed Polk’s rush to war. At the very outset of the debate in the Senate, he resisted a call to print 20,000 copies of the president’s message and accompanying documents because they would be distributed as pro-war propaganda and implied endorsement of a decision that had not yet been reached. Calhoun emphasized the moral and constitutional gravity of the issue that the Senate was being asked to consider:

Mr. CALHOUN . . . The question now submitted to us is one of the gravest character, and the importance of the consequences which may result from it we cannot now determine. I do hope that this body will give to it that high, full, and dispassionate consideration which is worthy the character of the body and the high constitutional functions which it is called on to exercise. I trust that we will weigh everything calmly and deliberately, and do all that the Constitution, interests, and honor of the country may require. . . .

A little later that day, Calhoun fleshed out his position somewhat more fully. He objected to the president’s suggestions that “war” already existed. Armed conflict, or invasion, may or may not exist. But under the Constitution “war” can exist only when the Congress so declares.

Mr. CALHOUN. . . . [T]he President has announced that there is war; but according to my interpretation, there is no war according to the sense of our Constitution. I distinguish between hostilities and war, and God forbid that, acting under the Constitution, we should ever confound one with the other. There may be invasion without war, and the President is authorized to repel invasion without war. But it is our sacred duty to make war, and it is for us to determine whether war shall be declared or not. If we have declared war, a state of war exists, and not till then.

It was in this aspect of the question that I regarded it as one of great magnitude, and deprecated any precipitate action on the part of the Senate. There is a certain forbearance, dignity, and calmness, which will make war not the less effective if it should be our fate to be involved in war.

The last few sentences of Calhoun’s short statement are remarkable for their expression of patriotism. Notice the reference to the country as a whole as “my country”:

I hope that I shall never indicate, on my part, the earnestness with which I go into any measure by a precipitate course of action. I am prepared to do all that the Constitution, and patriotism, and the honor of my country, may require. But I wish time to consider on all points, and desire that our whole action may be marked by dignity.

Notwithstanding Calhoun’s position, within twenty four hours the Senate was finalizing a bill authorizing the raising of troops and supplies. Most troubling in Calhoun’s view, as he expressed it on May 12, 1846, was the fact that the bill recognized war as already existing. The proposed legislation was entitled “An act providing for the prosecution of the existing war . . .” and the introduction to the act repeated that characterization:

Whereas, by the act of the Republic of Mexico, a state of war exists between that Government and the United States:

Be it enacted . . ., That, for the purpose of enabling the Government of the United States to prosecute said war to a speedy and successful termination . . ..

Calhoun rose to repeat his objections. Whether it acknowledged it or not, the Congress was declaring war (the Globe reporter reports this and Calhoun’s later statements in the third person, past tense [e.g., “Mr. Calhoun said that . . .”]; I have transposed these to the first person present in the hope that you will read them aloud):

Mr. CALHOUN . . . I hope, at least, one day will be allowed to those who are to vote upon this bill, as an opportunity to consult the documents which have been submitted to the Senate by the Executive, as containing the ground on which the bill is to pass. It is a bill amounting to a declaration of war. I have no objection whatever to voting the amount of supplies contained in the bill, or even a greater amount; but I am at present unprepared to vote anything which amounts to a declaration of war. The question is one of great magnitude, and gentlemen who entertain doubts respecting the facts on which the bill is founded, or in regard to the necessity or propriety of a declaration of war, should certainly have some short time allowed them for reflection. . .

Other senators complained that the troops needed immediate help. Calhoun’s request would result in fatal delay. What game was he really playing? In response, Calhoun denied the charge. The troops could be supplied and reinforced immediately; it was only the preamble to which he objected. And he had no covert agenda; he was simply not prepared to vote on the gravest constitutional responsibility he held as a senator:

Mr. CALHOUN . . . I seek no delay, and resort to no indirect course to conceal my true intent. . . . [W]hy can you not accommodate gentlemen who have honest doubts as to the state of facts, by consenting to strike out the preamble of the bill, and to suffer the question of supplies to be separated from the question of a declaration of war? Is not such a course reasonable? Is it not fair and just? Gentlemen stated to the Senate that the information received from the frontier was such as to require instant action; if so, they can have instant action. If any delay occurs, the delay is their own. I will create none.

I am prepared to vote the supplies on the spot, and without an hour’s delay; but it is just as impossible for me to vote for that preamble as it is for me to plunge a dagger into my own heart, and more so. I cannot; I am not prepared to affirm that war exists between the United States and Mexico, and that it exists by the act of that Government. How can I affirm this, when I have no evidence on which to affirm it? How do I know that the Government of Mexico will not disavow what had been done? Am I to be called upon to give a vote like this? It is impossible for me to utter it, consistently with that sacred regard for truth in which I have had been educated.

The Senate, Calhoun charged, was proposing to “make war on the Constitution.” It was “monstrous”:

I have no difficulty as to my course. My mind is made up; it is made up unalterably; I can neither vote affirmatively nor negatively. I have no certain evidence to go on. Whether any one will go with me in this course I do not know; I have made no inquiries, and I do not know that a single friend will be found at my side. As to what might be said of such a course, and all that is called popularity, I do not care the snap of my finger. If I cannot stand and brave so small a danger, I should be but little worthy of what small amount of reputation I may have earned.

I cannot agree to make war on Mexico by making war on the Constitution; and the Senate will make war on the Constitution by declaring war to exist between the two Governments when no war has been declared, and nothing has occurred but a slight military conflict between a portion of two armies. Yet I am asked to affirm, in the very face of the Constitution, that a local rencontre, not authorized by the act of either Government, constituted a state of war between the Government of Mexico and the Government of the United States – to say that, by a certain military movement of General [Zachary] Taylor and General [Mariano] Arista, every citizen of the United States is made the enemy of every man in Mexico.

It is monstrous. It strips Congress of the power of making war; and what is more and worse, it gives that power to every officer, nay, to every subaltern commanding a corporal’s guard. Do you gentlemen call on me to do this? Do you expect that I would vote for a position so monstrous? If you force the question upon me, I will take my own course. If you want unanimity, you can have it; but if you choose to proceed on your own petty party views, be it so.

Later that day, Calhoun made his final protest. Substantively, it added little, but I invite you to picture the Cast Iron Man standing in the Senate and making this plea:

Why, in the name of all that is reasonable, would you rush at once to the ultimate resort? Suppose this turns out to be a case in which war ought to be declared, after examination of all the documents: let the declaration be made in due form and with becoming dignity – not in this side-way, as if you were afraid to do it. Show a front to the world, such as becomes the character of the nation.

In the present condition of the world, war is a tremendous thing. The whole sentiment of the civilized world is turning stronger and stronger against war. Let us not, for the honor of our country – for the dignity of the Republic – be the first to create a state of war. Mortal man cannot see the end of it. When I look on and see that we are rushing upon the most tremendous event, I am amazed. I am more than amazed; I am in a state of wonder and deep alarm. This is not the tone of character to go into war. They who go into war in this manner – as if seeking a divisive course – cannot expect to succeed. It is a hasty, thoughtless course.

I do not wish to use any words in an offensive sense -- but with all possible emphasis, I exhort you to avoid even the appearance of precipitancy, or want of that deep reflection and profound meditation which alone can guide you to a successful issue.

Shortly before 6:00 p.m. on Tuesday May 12, 1846, the bill passed the Senate by a vote of 40-2, the only two dissenters being Senators Thomas Clayton (Whig, Delaware) and John Davis (Whig, Massachusetts). Two the votes recorded in favor of the bill were partial or conditional. “When Mr. [John J.] CRITTENDEN’S [Whig, Kentucky] name was called, he voted ‘ay, except the preamble.’ So also did Mr. [William] UPHAM [Whig, Vermont].”

“Senators [John M.] BERRIEN [Whig, Georgia], CALHOUN, and [George] EVANS [Whig, Maine], being in their seats, did not vote.”

John Calhoun's Pakenham Letter: Why?

I ended the last post with Merrill D. Peterson’s question:

Politicians then and historians since have debated [John C.] Calhoun’s motives for writing the Pakenham Letter. The [John Tyler] administration line on annexation was that it was strictly a question of national interest unconnected with slavery. Calhoun’s letter, which went to the Senate along with the treaty and became public knowledge on April 27 [,1844], placed annexation on pro-slavery grounds. Could he have been oblivious to the effect of this?

Years ago, Calhoun biographer John C. Wiltse contended that Calhoun did not anticipate that the letter would become public. Subsequent historians, however, have uniformly rejected this view. Charles Sellers, for example, responded, “Wiltse contends that Calhoun did not anticipate that his Pakenham letter would be published, but Bemis asks logically, ‘If so, why did he write it?’”

The chronology also renders Wiltse’s suggestion ludicrous. The Pakenham Letter is dated Thursday April 18. On Monday April 22, the treaty and the letter went to the Senate. Transcription of copies would probably have begun almost immediately after the letter was sent. Did Calhoun send the letter and then a few hours later smack his head in the realization that he now needed to provide it to the Senate? Ridiculous.

It is virtually impossible then, to reach any conclusion other than that Calhoun knew, when he wrote the letter, that he would be sending it to the Senate. He must also have known that it would create a firestorm. Why would he do such a thing?

William W. Freehling, for one, finds no mystery. Calhoun, he maintains, was simply being Calhoun. For some time, his primary goal had been to raise southern white consciousness and encourage the formation of a sectional southern party. This was a perfect opportunity to galvanize the south. The north, confronted by a unified south, would then have to cave:

No pre-Civil War mystery is less mysterious. Calhoun here pursued the policy he had deployed since nullification times. First he would find the issue to teach Southerners that outsiders hid antislavery intent behind camouflaged methods of proceeding. His issue would arouse southern apologists from their preference to diffuse blacks away. An awakened Slavepower would then compel Northerners into a pure states’ rights party, which would settle the precipitating issue the South’s way.

Prof. Freehling also questions whether Calhoun’s tactic put the administration and the treaty in any worse a position than they would have been otherwise. First, northern Whigs would almost certainly vote against the treaty no matter what the accompanying documents showed concerning the administration’s intent, and at least some northern Democrats would be forced to follow suit. Second, even without the Pakenham Letter the records to be delivered to the Senate would be littered with numerous letters and memoranda showing that many members of the administration had sought annexation to protect slavery and advance the interests of the south.

In fact, Prof. Freehling asserts that the strategy that Calhoun adopted (as Freehling understands it) was the only potentially winning strategy. “Calhoun’s scenario of rallying enough slaveholders to push enough Northern Democrats to stop evading the issue was exactly the way the election of 1844 and its annexation aftermath transpired.”

Merrill D. Peterson appears to make a similar point. Rallying the south was both desirable in itself and probably the only potentially winning strategy. “By linking Texas annexation to the defense of slavery, he divided political parties at the Mason and Dixon Line, terrifying [Henry] Clay and the Whigs and undercutting [Martin] Van Buren in the South.”

In her review of the literature, Norma Lois Peterson cites two other historians who likewise believe that Calhoun’s letter reflected a calculated political gamble. At best, he might convince southern Whigs to support the treaty without losing northern Democrats. If the worst happened, and northern Democrats voted against, at least he would have alerted southerners to the danger they faced:

George Poage thinks Calhoun wanted his letter to initiate a general debate with the British government over slavery, hoping this would alarm southern Whigs and bring them into a section bloc under his leadership. Their votes were necessary to ratification, but as yet, they remained loyal to Whig policy and seemed oblivious to the growing danger to their “way of life.”

To William R. Brock, “all evidence suggests that Calhoun knew what he was doing and calculated the odds.” Early in March, weeks before Calhoun had discovered Aberdeen’s letter, he lamented the disunity in the South . . .. Calhoun was convinced that southern Whigs would vote against the treaty unless they could be alerted to the impending destruction of their slave property . . .. The protection of slavery had to be made the central issue of annexation. This would be a test, not only for southern Whigs, but also for northern Democrats.

Merrill Peterson’s reference to Van Buren points up another potential and not inconsistent motive that has been highlighted by Charles Sellers in James K. Polk: Continentalist, 1843-1846. As of April 1844, it was generally assumed that Van Buren would be nominated as the Democratic candidate for president. As I noted in the last post, Van Buren had avoided the annexation issue like the plague during 1837-1841. In fact, he continued to oppose immediate annexation and would shortly issue a public letter to that effect.

As of mid-April, however, Van Buren had not yet announced his position. On Monday, April 15, 1844, the principal Democratic newspaper, Francis Preston Blair’s Washington Globe, endorsed annexation. Tyler and Calhoun, Sellers argues, incorrectly assumed that this meant that Van Buren was about to come out in favor of annexation and steal the issue that Tyler still hoped would somehow earn him a second term. (In fact, Blair produced the editorial at Andrew Jackson’s urging and over Van Buren’s objection.) By casting annexation as a pro-slavery initiative, they would force Van Buren to back off:

On Monday, April 15, [1844,] the Globe’s endorsement of annexation appeared according to promise, but the treaty did not. Learning in advance that the Globe would endorse the treaty, Tyler and Calhoun had jumped to the conclusion that Van Buren was about to rob them of the political fruits of their toils by coming out for annexation. “If the Globe, or any other organ of Mr. Van Buren, shall attempt to appropriate the measure in a manner to operate on the Baltimore Convention, or at the polls,” warned the Tyler organ in reply to Blair’s editorial, “we shall denounce such a proceeding.” Holding back the treaty from the Senate, Calhoun set to work to accomplish something Blair had warned Van Buren about a month before: introducing “stipulations on the negro question calculated to make it [annexation] odious in the north & peculiarly a southern question.”

About the illustration:

A pro-Democrat cartoon forecasting the collapse of Whig opposition to the annexation of Texas. James K. Polk, the expansionist candidate, stands at right near a bridge spanning "Salt River." He holds an American flag and hails Texans Stephen Austin (left) and Samuel Houston aboard a wheeled steamboat-like vessel "Texas." Austin, waving the flag of the Lone Star Republic, cries, "All hail to James K. Polk, the frined [sic] of our Country!" The Texas boat has an eagle figurehead and a star on its prow. Below the bridge pandemonium reigns among the foes of annexation. Holding onto a rope attached to "Texas" above, they are dragged into Salt River. Led by Whig presidential nominee Henry Clay, they are (left to right) Theodore Frelinghuysen, Daniel Webster, Henry A. Wise, and an unidentified figure whose legs are tangled in the rope. Clay: "Curse the day that ever I got hold of this rope! this is a bad place to let go of it--But I must!" Frelinghuysen: "Oh evil day, that ever I got into the footsteps of my predecessor." Webster: "If we let go, we are ruined, and if we hold on--Oh! crackee!" Abolitionist William Lloyd Garrison, straddling a barrel labeled "Abolition" in the river, shouts at Clay, "Avaunt! unholy man! I will not keep company with a blackleg!" referring to the candidate's reputation as a gambler.