Flower Power!

Ariadne

Thought Crimes

I really enjoyed this rant by Tom Smith at The Right Coast and can't help quoting a portion:

Also, I would like to clarify a few things. If anyone happened to hear me opine that "this so-called health care reform plan is the most loathsome, disgusting and collectivist steaming crock of shit that has emerged from the fevered and depraved swamp of Washington misrule in 50 years," please bear in mind I was only kidding and had had a couple [of] adult beverages. Neither was I serious when I said "this will reduce us to a bunch of penurious, ill-educated coolies in hock up to our eyeballs to a cabal of bloated Red Chinese crony-capitalist warlords, you just wait and see," but rather employing poetic license, to wit, hyperbole. Similarly, when I remarked that "Obama took more time to choose his dog than he wants Congress to consider health care "reform" and at the end of that he picked a breed known for its bad smell and hostility to children," I was honestly relying on just a few reports of PWD's, of which I am sure there are many examples of perfectly nice dogs. And if anybody attributes to me the rumor that the health care legislation includes a proposal to send old people with serious medical problems to North Korean hospitals to save money, please be assured I never said such a thing.

I didn't say it either. But I thought it.

Jefferson Davis and Mexican Border

To my great frustration and disappointment, the debates in the United States Senate concerning the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo do not seem to be available. They were not published in the Congressional Globe (which is available). Votes are apparently available, but only in documents that I have not been able to find online. The ever-reliable David M. Potter explains why:

The secrecy provisions of the executive sessions in which the treaty was approved were promptly lifted, and though the debates were not published, the journal of proceedings, showing roll-call divisions, was printed as Senate Executive Documents, 30 Cong., 1 sess., No. 52 (Serial 509).

I mention this to explain why the following is not more precise.

In The United States and Mexico, 1821 – 1848 (1913), George Lockhart Rives describes an interesting historical footnote of which I was not aware of: during the debates concerning the treaty, Mississippi Senator Jefferson Davis – yes, that Jefferson Davis – proposed an amendment that would have resulted in the United States taking an additional large chunk of northern Mexico. Rives describes Davis’s proposal as follows:

Jefferson Davis [proposed] to amend the definition of the boundary, so as to include in the cession to the United States the greater part of Tamaulipas and Nuevo Leon, the whole of Coahuila and a large part of Chihuahua. This was decisively beaten by a vote of 44 to 11, most of the leaders of the Democratic party, [Thomas Hart] Benton [Missouri], [John C.] Calhoun, Herschel V. Johnson [Georgia], [Lewis] Cass [Michigan], [James M.] Mason of Virginia, and [Ambrose H.] Sevier [Arkansas], voting with the majority. In the minority were both of the senators from Texas, [Daniel S.] Dickinson, of New York, [Stephen A.] Douglas, of Illinois, [Edward A.] Hannegan, of Indiana, one each from Alabama, Florida, and Mississippi, and one each from Ohio, Missouri, and Tennessee.

The red line drawn on the 1847 map at the top of this post (click to enlarge) is a guess as to where Davis’s proposed border may have been using the imprecise description provided by Rives. Rives does not mention the Davis plan as taking an additional portion of the Mexican state of Sonora, so I have assumed that the proposed border would have turned north along the western border of Chihuahua, rather than proceeding due west to the Gulf of California. I have also assumed (based on no evidence) that the border would have turned west at a point somewhat south of the line negotiated by Nicholas Trist, encompassing the later Gadsden Purchase (and somewhat more) and approximating the line proposed by John Calhoun in his 1847 and 1848 speeches.

"To keep it as the alternative would but render more certain . . . the conquest of the whole country"

Careful readers of my earlier posts concerning John C. Calhoun’s February 9, 1847 speech against continuation of the war against Mexico may have noticed an oddity in the position that Calhoun took. Calhoun made clear that one of his great concerns was that the acquisition of additional territory would trigger a bitter battle over the status of slavery in the region. In 1846, the Wilmot Proviso represented, in a sense, a hypothetical dispute. If it became a fight over land actually ceded to the United States, things could get ugly fast.

And yet, the position that Calhoun took in February 1847, and continued to advance in January 1848 – adopting a defensive “line” up the Rio Grande to El Paso, and thence due west to the Pacific coast – would not solve this problem. As we all know, this was the line (more or less) eventually established by the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, and the ensuing bitter debate over New Mexico and California dominated the halls of Congress for years, until resolved by the Compromise of 1850.

Why, then, did not Calhoun not take the Whig position: “No Territory”? He had been silent on the point in February 1847. In January 1848, however, he explained himself. “No Territory” was not, he believed, a politically realistic option. Worse, if “No Territory” were the only alternative presented, it made more likely the worst possible outcome, annexation of the entire country:

Now let me say, that in asserting that a defensive line was the only alternative to the plan recommended by the president, I have put out of the question the course which most of you [Whig opponents of the war] advocate – taking no indemnity of territory; because I believe that the voice of the country has decided irrevocably against it; and that to keep it as the alternative would but render more certain the adoption of the policy recommended by the Executive, and, in consequence, the conquest of the whole country.

***

The people will find it hard to believe that it was necessary to vote so much money for the purpose of getting territory for indemnity, which you intend to throw away when you get it. But, whatever may be the causes which have led to this state of public opinion, it has, beyond all doubt, decided against any conclusion of this war that does not involve territorial indemnity to some extent. Hence, I repeat, the alternative whether this war shall go on and consummate itself, is between taking a defensive line and adopting the course pointed out by the Executive, and that the decision must be made now; for if it be passed over until another session, the end will be, I doubt not, the subjugation of the whole country, thereby involving us in all the difficulties and dangers which must result from it.

"You are reversing the policy of which you have heretofore professed to be the advocates"

Having set forth, on January 4, 1848, his understanding of liberty and the dangers presented by the war against Mexico, John C. Calhoun turned to more practical, political considerations in order to try to make his case. Focusing on the Democratic Party – which was, after all, driving the bus – Calhoun urged its members to return to their doctrinal roots. Less politely, it might be said that he accused them of being no better than their Whig adversaries.

As you probably know, the party of Jackson usually presented itself as the defender of certain core principles: minimal government and governmental spending, low (or at least moderate) tariffs, balanced budgets, free trade and hard money. Democrats routinely lambasted their rivals, the Whigs, as Federalists in disguise – proponents of massive spending, inflated protective tariffs, and corporations and “monster” banks that preyed on the common man by ensnaring him with debts and encouraging the use of worthless paper money.

By advocating continuation of the war against Mexico, Calhoun argued, the Democrats were abandoning their principles and betraying their constituents:

Mr. President, in my opinion, all parties are interested in giving this matter the only direction that can be given to it with any prospect of a favorable result. Let me say to the friends of the administration [the Democrats], if you go on, and some accident does not meet you – if you go on in the prosecution of this war from year to year, - you will find that it will overthrow you. Do you not see that, as far as the internal affairs of the government are concerned, you are reversing the policy of which you have heretofore professed to be the advocates?

What party has been opposed to the re-creation of a great national debt? The Democratic or Republican party. Well, sir, this war is involving you in a greater debt than the opposite party [the Whigs] could have done, perhaps, in any circumstances short of war. This very campaign, which you look upon so lightly, will be almost as great a charge on the country as the debt of the revolution.

What party has always been against the extension of the patronage of Executive? Well, sir, you are doing more towards the extension of that patronage, and, above all, towards the continuance of that extension, than has ever been done under our governments.

Well, sir, what party professes to be most in favor of a metallic currency? And do you not see that, as your treasury notes and stocks accumulate, you are in danger of being plunged again in the paper system to the utmost extent?

What party has always been in favor of free trade? But do you not see that, by accumulating charges and burdens upon the people by the debts which have now been contracted, you never will, during your time, have an opportunity of making any considerable reduction in the tariff?

Timeless Advice

It has been the work of fortunate circumstances, or a combination of circumstances – a succession of fortunate incidents of some kind – which give to any people a free government. It is a very difficult task to make a constitution to last, though it may be supposed by some that they can be made to order, and furnished at the shortest notice. Sir, this admirable Constitution of our own was the result of a fortunate combination of circumstances. It was superior to the wisdom of the men who made it. It was the force of circumstances which induced them to adopt most of its wise provisions.

Well, sir, of the few nations who have the good fortune to adopt self-government, few have had the good fortune long to preserve that government; for it is harder to preserve than to form it. Few people, after years of prosperity, remember the tenure by which their liberty is held; and I fear, Senators, that is our own condition. I fear that we shall continue to involve ourselves until our own system becomes a ruin. Sir, there is no solicitude now for liberty. Who talks of liberty when any great question comes up? Here is a question of the first magnitude as to the conduct of this war; do you hear anybody talk about its effect upon our liberties and our free institutions? No, sir.

That was not the case formerly. In the early stages of our Government, the great anxiety was how to preserve liberty; the great anxiety now is for the attainment of mere military glory. In the one, we are forgetting the other. The maxim of former times was, that power is always stealing from the many to the few; the price of liberty was perpetual vigilance. They were constantly looking out and watching for danger. Then, when any great question came up, the first inquiry was, how it could affect our free institutions – how it could affect our liberty. Not so now. Is it because there has been any decay of the spirit of liberty among the people? Not at all. I believe the love of liberty was never more ardent, but they have forgotten the tenure of liberty by which alone it is preserved.

We think we may now indulge in everything with impunity, as if we held our charter of liberty by “right divine” – from Heaven itself. Under these impressions, we plunge into war, we contract heavy debts, we increase the patronage of the Executive, and we even talk of a crusade to force our institutions, our liberty, upon all people. There is no species of extravagance which our people imagine will endanger their liberty in any degree. But it is a great and fatal mistake. The day of retribution will come. It will come as certainly as I am now addressing the Senate; and when it does come, awful will be the reckoning –heavy the responsibility somewhere!

January 4, 1848.

"We make a great mistake, sir, when we suppose that all people are capable of self-government"

As we have seen, John C. Calhoun’s views on whether other peoples were “fit for self-government” included a pronounced racial component. But if we try to put that aside, we can see that he raised, in his January 4, 1848 speech, issues that continue to resonate today:

We make a great mistake, sir, when we suppose that all people are capable of self-government. We are anxious to force free governments on all; and I see that it has been urged in a very respectable quarter, that it is the mission of this country to spread civil and religious liberty over all the world, and especially over this continent. It is a very great mistake. None but people advanced to a very high state of moral and intellectual improvement are capable, in a civilized state, of maintaining free Government; and amongst those who were so purified, very few, indeed, have had the good fortune of forming a constitution capable of endurance. It is a remarkable fact in the history of man, that scarcely ever have free popular institutions been formed by wisdom alone that have endured.

Is it realistic, for example, to expect that we can drag a clannish, pre-modern society like Afghanistan five hundred or one thousand years into the future in a matter of years and inculcate in its people with democratic values that would persist after foreign troops were withdrawn? I was reminded of this 2002 article on the Hoover Institution site evaluating that possibility:

The Western ideal for representative democracy involves free, multiparty elections and maintenance of civil liberties. As Aristotle realized, and as the evidence from a large number of countries demonstrates, democracy is almost never sustained in a country that has income and education levels as low as those in Afghanistan. Nevertheless, Washington always recommends democracy, even to the poorest nations, and the results have included such failures as the new Congo and Haiti.

Freedom House’s latest ratings place Afghanistan in the lowest categories for electoral rights and civil liberties. This lack of democracy corresponds to the predictions that I would make from the country’s economic and social conditions. Given where Afghanistan is today, my statistical analysis implies that the chance a midrange democracy – characteristic at present of countries such as Turkey and Indonesia – will exist five years from now is less than 1 percent.

A major factor undermining the building of democracy in Afghanistan is low primary school attainment. In 1995, adults had an average of 0.8 years of formal schooling. Only Mali and Niger were lower among the 113 countries for which I have data. Even worse from the standpoint of democracy is the unequal treatment of males and females. In Afghanistan, adult males averaged 1.3 years of primary schooling, whereas females had only 0.3. The male-female ratio of 4.3 is the highest for the 104 countries for which I have these data.

"You may call it annexation, but it is a forced annexation"

In the last post concerning John C. Calhoun’s speech on January 4, 1848 arguing against continuation of the war against Mexico, the South Carolina Senator explained why, in his view holding Mexico as a subjugated province would result in anarchy and despotism in the United States.

Calhoun turned next to the alternate possibility: that the United States could “incorporat[e] her into our Union.” On the face of it, this would be easy enough: divide Mexico into territories, perhaps using her existing provinces, and establish territorial governments:

I come now to the proposition of incorporating her [Mexico] into our Union. Well, as far as law is concerned, that is easy. You can establish a Territorial Government for every State in Mexico, and there are some twenty of them. You can appoint governors, judges, and magistrates. You can give the people a subordinate government, allowing them to legislate for themselves, whilst you defray the cost. So far as law goes, the thing is done.

But this, Calhoun argued, placed form over substance and assumed a false “analogy between this and our Territorial Governments.” Territories had been formed in the United States because the residents had been eager for them, and eager eventually to form states out of them. Their residents were either citizens of the United States who had moved there, or at least “foreigners from the same regions from which we came.”

Territorial governments in Mexico, in contrast, would have to be imposed on a hostile populace that had (as we might say today) no tradition of democratic values. The creation of territories would, as a result, amount merely to “forced annexation,” accompanied by all the evils Calhoun had previously described:

It is entirely different with Mexico. You have no need of armies to keep your Territories in subjection. But when you incorporate Mexico, you must have powerful armies to keep them in subjection. You may call it annexation, but it is a forced annexation, which is a contradiction in terms, according to my conception. You will be involved, in one word, in all the evils which I attribute to holding Mexico as a province. In fact, it will be but a Provincial Government, under the name of a Territorial Government.

How long will that last? How long will it be before Mexico will be capable of incorporation into our union? Why, if we judge from the examples before us, it will be a very long time. Ireland has been held in subjection by the England for seven or eight hundred years, and yet still remains hostile, although her people are of kindred race with the conquerors.

As the last quoted paragraph suggests, Calhoun’s evaluation of the ability of other peoples to accept democratic values contained a racial component. If it took the Irish hundreds of years to incorporate with England, stubborn Mexicans would never accept the concept:

[N]ever will the time come, in my opinion, Mr. President, that these Mexicans will be heartily reconciled to your authority. They have Castilian blood in their veins – the old Gothic, quite equal to the Anglo-Saxon in many respects – in some respects superior. Of all nations of the earth they are the most pertinacious –have the highest sense of nationality – hold out longest, and often even with the least prospect of the effecting their object.

Finally, of course, none of this, Calhoun noted, solved the problem that incorporation, even if feasible, would result in the admission into the body politic of millions of people of “mixed blood” and “impure races”:

But, Mr. President, suppose all these difficulties removed; suppose these people attached to our Union, and desirous of incorporating with us, ought we to bring them in? Are they fit to be connected with us? Are they fit for self-government and for governing you? Are you, any of you, willing that your States should be governed by these twenty-odd Mexican States, with a population of about only one million of your blood, and two or three millions of mixed blood, better informed, all the rest pure Indians, a mixed blood equally ignorant and unfit for liberty, impure races, but not as good as the Cherokee or Choctaws?

"[T]he result is inevitable - anarchy and despotism"

In his speech of January 4, 1848 explaining his resolutions opposing the continuation of the war against Mexico, South Carolina Senator John C. Calhoun next turned to his contentions that continued war “would be in conflict with the genius and character of our institutions, and subversive of our free government.” Calhoun addressed these “two together, as they are so intimately connected.”

There were two possibilities, Calhoun maintained. The first was “to hold Mexico in subjection;” the second, “incorporating her into our Union.” He turned first to the consequences of “hold[ing] Mexico as a subjected province.” The result would be that Mexico would conquer the United States by destroying her liberty:

Mr. President, there are some propositions too clear for argument; and before such a body as the Senate, I should consider it a loss of time to undertake to prove that to hold Mexico as a subjected province would be hostile, and in conflict with our free popular institutions, and in the end subversive of them. Sir, he who knows the American Constitution well – he who has duly studied its character – he who has looked at history, and knows what has been the effect of conquests of free States invariably, will require no proof at my hands to show that it would be entirely hostile to the institutions of the country to hold Mexico as a province. There is not an example on record of any free State even having attempted the conquest of any territory approaching the extent of Mexico without disastrous consequences. The nation conquered have [sic] in time conquered the conquerors by destroying their liberty. That will be our case, sir.

In describing with more particularity how the conquest and subjugation of Mexico would destroy American liberty, Calhoun described two related consequences. First, it would result in the transfer of power from the States to the federal government, leaving the former “mere subordinate corporations”:

The conquest of Mexico would add so vast amount to the patronage of this Government, that it would absorb the whole power of the States in the Union. This Union would become the imperial, and the States mere subordinate corporations.

At the same time, on the federal level, conquest would drain power from the Legislative branch and concentrate it in the Executive:

But the evil will not end there. The process will go on. The same process by which the power would be transferred from the States to the Union, will transfer the whole from this department of the Government (I speak of the Legislature) to the Executive. All the added power and added patronage which conquest will create, will pass to the Executive. In the end, you put in the hands of the Executive the power of conquering you.

Concentrating power in the Executive would be disastrous not only in itself, but also because it would further deform the electoral process. Calhoun seemed to be suggesting that, by making the election of the president all-important, political struggles for the presidency would tear the country apart. As in ancient Rome, a single despot would ultimately emerge:

You give to it [the Executive], sir, such splendor, such ample means, that, with the principle of proscription which unfortunately prevails in our country, the struggle will be greater at every presidential election than our institutions can possibly endure. But the end of it will be, that that branch of Government will become all powerful, and the result is inevitable – anarchy and despotism. It is as certain as that I am this day addressing the Senate.

The Missouri Compromise: A "great Joy" to the North?

Several months ago, I wrote a post on the Missouri Compromise entitled The Missouri Compromise: Compromise, Armistice or Defeat? The post concluded, based on a review of congressional votes, that northern representatives viewed the first Missouri Compromise – the Compromise of 1820 – as a defeat:

In short, it would appear that, from the southern perspective, the Compromise of 1820 was in fact a compromise. An overwhelming majority of southern senators and a slim majority of southern representatives voted in favor of the compromise or the key concession they were asked to make to achieve it.

To the North, however, the Compromise of 1820 was not a compromise. It was not even an armistice – it was a defeat. Of those northern legislators who voted, 82% of Senators and 86% of Representatives voted against compromise or against the key concession they were asked to make.

Recently, Robert Pierce Forbes, the author of The Missouri Compromise and Its Aftermath: Slavery and the Meaning of America (which I see is slated to be released in paperback August 15), was kind enough to visit these pages and left the following comment to the post:

All very true. But what do you make of the fact that [James] Tallmadge and [John W.] Taylor celebrated and congratulated each other?

Since a comment from one of the leading authorities on the Compromise is not exactly an everyday event, I thought I’d explore it and venture a response.

Prof. Forbes describes the celebration and congratulations he refers to in his comment in greater detail in his book, as follows:

[T]idings of the Missouri vote brought “great Joy” to the originator of the restriction amendment and its principal backer. From former representative James Tallmadge, John W. Taylor received fervent congratulations: “You have in this business a monument to your fame. Accept the thanks of a sincere friend for your perseverance – Talents – & devotion to the cause of your nation – & of suffering human nature.” For his part, as he wrote to his wife, Taylor also felt satisfaction. “We have gained all that was possible, if not all that was desired. . . . an ample recompense for all the time and talent it has cost us.”

It strikes me that we are viewing here, in part, a not uncommon human reaction to defeat after a long and bitter struggle. The two warriors had lost, but they could console themselves with the knowledge that they had fought the good fight against large odds and had at least achieved something.

In addition, as Prof. Forbes himself points out in the next paragraph, it was possible to see this as the beginning, not the end, of the match. The first round had been close, and there was reason to believe the odds would be better in the second:

Moreover, the struggle to admit Missouri was hardly finished. The principal task for opponents of restriction was consolidating their position. They had prevailed by just three votes, and even if, as I think it should be, [John] Randolph’s assertion that six more northern votes waited in the wings if needed is taken seriously, this still amounted to a tenuous margin. By every indication, most “doughfaces” could expect stiff reelection challenges; the Seventeenth Congress would undoubtedly be still more unfriendly to slavery expansion.

Was the first Missouri vote a defeat? Yes, but a glorious one. The South’s nose had at least been bloodied, and Northern consciousness, as we might say today, had been raised. There would be future battles, and victory would ultimately result.

It goes without saying that I would be delighted to highlight any comment or response from Prof. Forbes.

"I protest against such a Union as that!"

In his speech of January 4, 1848, South Carolina Senator John C. Calhoun raised a number of arguments against continuation of the war against Mexico. The cost of subduing remaining resistance and occupying the country would be tremendous: Calhoun estimated that it would be $60 million, causing potentially catastrophic damage to the economy.

Calhoun also argued, as he had before (although I did not highlight the point), “that the more successfully this war is prosecuted the more certain will be the defeat of the object designed to be accomplished, whilst the objects disavowed will be accomplished.” This was because the destruction of all government in Mexico would make peace impossible: there would be no one left with whom to negotiate. Mexico, a fellow republic, would have been destroyed, leaving a military despotism by the United States in its place.

[Adopting the Polk administration’s proposed course] will lead to the blotting out of the nationality of Mexico, and the throwing of eight or nine millions of people without a government, on your hands. It will compel you, in all probability, to assume that government, for I think there will be very little prospect of your retiring. You must either hold the country as a province, or incorporate it into your Union. Shall we do either? That’s the question. Far from us be such an act, and for the reasons contained in the resolutions.

Calhoun’s proposed resolutions provided, first, that “to conquer Mexico and to hold it, either as a province or to incorporate it into the Union, would be inconsistent with the avowed object for which the war has been prosecuted.” Calhoun had already discussed this point at length. He turned therefore to the second proposition, that that conquest would be “a departure from the settled policy of the Government.” Calhoun contrasted the administration’s proposed course with the “settled policy” adopted concerning the Indians:

The next reason which my resolutions assign, is, that it is without example or precedent, either to hold Mexico as a province, or to incorporate her into our Union. No example of such a line of policy can be found. We have conquered many of the neighboring tribes of Indians, but we never thought of holding them in subjection – never of incorporating them into our Union. They have either been left as an independent people amongst us, or been driven into the forests.

This, in turn, served as an opening for Calhoun to address the issue that, I suspect, was at the heart of his objection to a wider Mexican war from the beginning: race. Calhoun feared that the incorporation of settled portions of Mexico would result in non-white Indians and “mixed tribes” becoming residents and citizens of the United States. “Ours,” Calhoun maintained, “is the government of a white race.” “[P]lacing these colored races on an equality with the white race” would be “fatal to our institutions”:

I know further, sir, that we have never dreamt of incorporating into our Union any but the Caucasian race – the free white race. To incorporate Mexico, would be the very first instance of the kind of incorporating an Indian race; for more than half of the Mexicans are Indians, and the other is composed chiefly of mixed tribes.

I protest against such a Union as that! Ours, sir, is the Government of a white race. The greatest misfortunes of Spanish America are to be traced to the fatal error of placing these colored races on an equality with the white race. That error destroyed the social arrangement which formed the basis of society. The Portuguese and ourselves have escaped – the Portuguese at least to some extent – and we are the only people on this continent which have made revolutions without being followed by anarchy. And yet it is professed and talked about to erect these Mexicans into a Territorial Government, and place them on an equality with the people of the United States. I protest utterly against such a project.

Sir, it is a remarkable fact, that in the whole history of man, as far as my knowledge extends, there is no instance whatever of any civilized colored races being found equal to the establishment of free popular government, although by far the largest portion of the human family is composed of these races. . . . Are we to overlook this fact? Are we to associate with ourselves as equals, companions, and fellow-citizens, the Indians and mixed race of Mexico? Sir, I should consider such a thing as fatal to our institutions.

"Well, sir, what has been accomplished?"

Having discussed at great (some might say turgid) length John C. Calhoun’s position on and arguments concerning the war against Mexico in early 1847, I’d like to jump forward eleven months, to January 1848. By that point, of course, General Winfield Scott had completed his conquest of Mexico City, and the war was, for all practical purposes, over. The nature of the peace, however, remained to be determined.

On December 15, 1847, Calhoun had introduced resolutions concerning the war that reiterated the themes that he had struck (and which I have discussed) earlier:

Resolved, that to conquer Mexico and to hold it, either as a province or to incorporate it into the Union, would be inconsistent with the avowed object for which the war has been prosecuted; a departure from the settled policy of the Government; in conflict with its character and genius; and in the end subversive of our free and popular institutions.

Resolved, that no line of policy in the further prosecution of the war should be adopted which may lead to consequences so disastrous.

On January 4, 1848, the Senate took up Calhoun’s resolutions for discussion, and Calhoun took the floor to explain and defend them. He began as follows:

In offering, Senators, these resolutions for your consideration, I have been governed by the reasons which induced me to oppose the war, and by the same considerations I have been ever since guided. In alluding to my opposition to the war, I do not intend to notice the reasons which governed me on that occasion, further than is necessary to explain my motives upon the present. I opposed the war then, not only because I considered it unnecessary, and that it might have been easily avoided; not only because I thought the President had no authority to order a portion of the territory in dispute and in possession of the Mexicans, to be occupied by our troops; not only because I believed the allegations upon which it was sanctioned by Congress, were unfounded in truth; but from high considerations of reason and policy, because I believed it would lead to great and serious evils to the country, and greatly endanger its free institutions.

Calhoun reminded his listeners that “at the last session, I suggested to the senate a defensive line” to “prevent the evil and danger with which, in my opinion, [the war] threatened the country and its institutions.” He was, he said, now offering his resolutions for the same purpose.

After reviewing the United States’ and General Scott’s unbroken string of military victories, Calhoun asserted that they had accomplished nothing:

Victory after victory has followed in succession, without a single reverse. . . . Well, sir, what has been accomplished? What has been done? Has the avowed object of the war been attained? Have we conquered peace? Have we obtained a treaty? Have we obtained any indemnity? No, sir; not a single object contemplated has been effected; and, what is worse, our difficulties are greater now than they were then, and the objects, forsooth, more difficult to reach than they were before the campaign commenced.

About the illustration:

An exultant view of Winfield Scott's second major victory in the Mexican War, at the Battle of Cerro Gordo, where Mexican commander Santa Anna beat an unceremonious retreat. In the mid-April victory Santa Anna's military chest with $11,000 in gold and his wooden leg fell into the hands of American troops. For an explanation of the "hasty plate of soup," see "Distinguished Military Operations" (no. 1846-15). The print also mocks Winfield Scott's well-known fastidiousness and taste for comfortable appointments and James K. Polk's handling of the Mexican War. In Clay's cartoon, Santa Anna rides off to the left, while the rest of his cavalry is seen in the distance routed by American troops. Scott sits in the Mexican's abandoned carriage, equipped with a lavish dinner service and two cocks, doffs his hat and invites the departing enemy to "stop and take a hasty plate of soup? It's some of your own cooking & very good I assure you!" Santa Anna replies, "No I thank you, General, I'm afraid of an attack from the rear! (Jesus Maria! this beats cock-fighting!)" An American trooper holds the reins of the carriage's team -- one horse and a braying ass with blinders-- and a fighting cock on a leash, saying, "I didn't think when I left New York that I should have taken Santa Anna's best fighting cock prisoner!" Another trooper kneels before the open military chest, while a third marvels at "Santa Anna's Cork leg!" In the lower right corner is a paper "Pass port for Santa Anna" signed by Polk, a reference to the President's allowing the exiled general to return to Mexico in hopes that he would terminate the war.

"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.

Team of Dysfunctional Schemers?

Dimitri will greatly enjoy this quote from Sean Wilentz's essay in The New Republic, Who Lincoln Was:

[Harold] Holzer's intense admiration of Lincoln sometimes leads him to make too much of a good thing. In accord with the argument presented by Doris Kearns Goodwin's recent book describing Lincoln's cabinet as a "team of rivals" -- an easily exaggerated view cited so often during the Obama transition that it became one of the platitudes of our day--Holzer is persuaded of the brilliance of Lincoln's selections. Holzer accurately presents Lincoln the cabinet-maker as a hard-nosed politician, who made good on promises extended during the fight for the Republican nomination (although the book could have said more on this), and who sought to placate every element of his faction-ridden party. Yet Lincoln's approach to the task was nothing new. Moreover, the cabinet that he picked was a dysfunctional collection of schemers far more than it was a team of any kind.

(Emphasis added)

"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.