MANIFEST DESTINY

The defeat of President Tyler’s treaty in June, 1844, just on the eve of the presidential campaign, gave the Texas question an importance which the Democrats in convention had not foreseen, when they inserted the re-annexation plank in the platform. The hostile attitude of Whig senators and of Clay himself toward annexation, helped to make Texas a party issue. While it cannot be said that Polk was elected on this issue alone, there was some plausibility in the statement of President Tyler, that “a controlling majority of the people, and a majority of the States, have declared in favor of immediate annexation.” At all events, when Congress reassembled, President Tyler promptly acted on this supposition. In his annual message, and again in a special message a fortnight later, he urged “prompt and immediate action on the subject of annexation.” Since the two governments had already agreed on terms of annexation, he recommended their adoption by Congress “in the form of a joint resolution, or act, to be perfected and made binding on the two countries, when adopted in like manner by the government of Texas." A policy which had not been able to secure the approval of two-thirds of the Senate was now to be endorsed by a majority of both houses. In short, a legislative treaty was to be enacted by Congress.

The Hon. Stephen A. Douglas had taken his seat in the House with augmented self-assurance. He had not only secured his re-election and the success of his party in Illinois, but he had served most acceptably as a campaign speaker in Polk’s own State. Surely he was entitled to some consideration in the councils of his party. In the appointment of standing committees, he could hardly hope for a chairmanship. It was reward enough to be made a member of the Committee of Elections and of the Committee on the Judiciary. On the paramount question before this Congress, he entertained strong convictions, which he had no hesitation in setting forth in a series of resolutions, while older members were still feeling their way. The preamble of these “Joint Resolutions for the annexation of Texas” was in itself a little stump speech: “Whereas the treaty of 1803 had provided that the people of Texas should be incorporated into the Union and admitted as soon as possible to citizenship, and whereas the present inhabitants have signified their willingness to be re-annexed; therefore".... Particular interest attaches to the Eighth Resolution which proposed to extend the Missouri Compromise line through Texas, “inasmuch as the compromise had been made prior to the treaty of 1819, by which Texas was ceded to Spain." The resolutions never commanded any support worth mentioning, attention being drawn to the joint resolution of the Committee on Foreign Affairs which was known to have the sanction of the President. The proposal of Douglas to settle the matter of slavery in Texas in the act of annexation itself, was perhaps his only contribution to the discussion of ways and means. An aggressive Southern group of representatives readily caught up the suggestion.

The debate upon the joint resolution was well under way before Douglas secured recognition from the Speaker. The opposition was led by Winthrop of Massachusetts and motived by reluctance to admit slave territory, as well as by constitutional scruples regarding the process of annexation by joint resolution. Douglas spoke largely in rejoinder to Winthrop. A clever retort to Winthrop’s reference to “this odious measure devised for sinister purposes by a President not elected by the people,” won for Douglas the good-natured attention of the House. It was President Adams and not President Tyler, Douglas remonstrated, who had first opened negotiations for annexation; but perhaps the gentleman from Massachusetts intended to designate his colleague, Mr. Adams, when he referred to “a president not elected by the people"! Moreover, it was Mr. Adams, who as Secretary of State had urged our claims to all the country as far as the Rio del Norte, under the Treaty of 1803. In spite of these just boundary claims and our solemn promise to admit the inhabitants of the Louisiana purchase to citizenship, we had violated that pledge by ceding Texas to Spain in 1819. These people had protested against this separation, only a few months after the signing of the treaty; they now asked us to redeem our ancient pledge. Honor and violated faith required the immediate annexation of Texas. Had Douglas known, or taken pains to ascertain, who these people were, who protested against the treaty of 1819, he would hardly have wasted his commiseration upon them. Enough: the argument served his immediate purpose.

To those who contended that Congress had no power to annex territory with a view to admitting new States, Douglas replied that the Constitution not only grants specific powers to Congress, but also general power to pass acts necessary and proper to carry out the specific powers. Congress may admit new States, but in the present instance Congress cannot exercise that power without annexing territory. “The annexation of Texas is a prerequisite without the performance of which Texas cannot be admitted." The Constitution does not state that the President and Senate may admit new States, nor that they shall make laws for the acquisition of territory in order to enable Congress to admit new States. The Constitution declares explicitly, “Congress may admit new States.” “When the grant of power is to Congress, the authority to pass all laws necessary to its execution is also in Congress; and the treaty-making power is to be confined to those cases where the power is not located elsewhere by the Constitution."

With those weaklings who feared lest the extension of the national domain should react unfavorably upon our institutions, and who apprehended war with Mexico, Douglas had no patience. The States of the Union were already drawn closer together than the thirteen original States in the first years of the Union, because of the improved means of communication. Transportation facilities were now multiplying more rapidly than population. “Our federal system,” he exclaimed, with a burst of jingoism that won a round of applause from Western Democrats as he resumed his seat, “Our federal system is admirably adapted to the whole continent; and, while I would not violate the laws of nations, nor treaty stipulations, nor in any manner tarnish the national honor, I would exert all legal and honorable means to drive Great Britain and the last vestiges of royal authority from the continent of North America, and extend the limits of the republic from ocean to ocean. I would make this an ocean-bound republic, and have no more disputes about boundaries, or ‘red lines’ upon the maps."

In this speech there was one notable omission. The slavery question was not once touched upon. Those who have eyes only to see plots hatched by the slave power in national politics, are sure to construe this silence as part of an ignoble game. It is possible that Douglas purposely evaded this question; but it does not by any means follow that he was deliberately playing into the hands of Southern leaders. The simple truth is, that it was quite possible in the early forties for men, in all honesty, to ignore slavery, because they regarded it either as a side issue or as no issue at all. It was quite possible to think on large national policies without confusing them with slavery. Men who shared with Douglas the pulsating life of the Northwest wanted Texas as a “theater for enterprise and industry.” As an Ohio representative said, they desired “a West for their sons and daughters where they would be free from family influences, from associated wealth and from those thousand things which in the old settled country have the tendency of keeping down the efforts and enterprises of young people.” The hearts of those who, like Douglas, had carved out their fortunes in the new States, responded to that sentiment in a way which neither a John Quincy Adams nor a Winthrop could understand.

Yet the question of slavery in the proposed State of Texas was thrust upon the attention of Congress by the persistent tactics of Alexander H. Stephens and a group of Southern associates. They refused to accept all terms of annexation which did not secure the right of States formed south of the Missouri Compromise line to come into the Union with slavery, if they desired to do so. Douglas met this opposition with the suggestion that not more than three States besides Texas should be created out of the new State, but that such States should be admitted into the Union with or without slavery, as the people of each should determine, at the time of their application to Congress for admission. As the germ of the doctrine of Popular Sovereignty, this resolution has both a personal and a historic interest. While it failed to pass, it suggested to Stephens and his friends a mode of adjustment which might satisfy all sides. It was at his suggestion that Milton Brown of Tennessee proposed resolutions providing for the admission of not more than four States besides Texas, out of the territory acquired. If these States should be formed south of the Missouri Compromise line, they were to be admitted with or without slavery, as the people of each should determine. Northern men demurred, but Douglas saved the situation by offering as an amendment, “And in such States as shall be formed north of said Missouri Compromise line, slavery or involuntary servitude, except for crime, shall be prohibited." The amendment was accepted, and thus amended, the joint resolution passed by an ample margin of votes. In view of later developments, this extension of the Missouri Compromise line is a point of great significance in the career of Douglas.

Not long after Douglas had voiced his vision of “an ocean-bound republic,” he was called upon to assist one of the most remarkable émigrations westward, from his own State. The Mormons in Hancock County had become the most undesirable of neighbors to his constituents. Once the allies of the Democrats, they were now held in detestation by all Gentiles of adjoining counties, irrespective of political affiliations. The announcement of the doctrine of polygamy by the Prophet Smith had been accompanied by acts of defiance and followed by depredations, which, while not altogether unprovoked, aroused the non-Mormons to a dangerous pitch of excitement. In the midst of general disorder in Hancock County, Joseph Smith was murdered. Every deed of violence was now attributed to the Danites, as the members of the militant order of the Mormon Church styled themselves. Early in the year 1845, the Nauvoo Charter was repealed; and Governor Ford warned his quondam friends confidentially that they had better betake themselves westward, suggesting California as “a field for the prettiest enterprise that has been undertaken in modern times.” Disgraceful outrages filled the summer months of 1845 in Hancock County. A band of Mormon-haters ravaged the county, burning houses, barns, and grain stacks, and driving unprotected Mormon settlers into Nauvoo. To put an end to this state of affairs, Governor Ford sent Judge Douglas and Attorney-General McDougal, with a force of militia under the command of General Hardin, into Hancock County. Public meetings in all the adjoining counties were now demanding the expulsion of the Mormons in menacing language. While General Hardin issued a proclamation bidding Mormons and anti-Mormons to desist from further violence, and promised that his scanty force of four hundred would enforce the laws impartially, the commissioners entered into negotiations with the Mormon authorities. On the pressing demand of the commissioners and of a deputation from the town of Quincy, Brigham Young announced that the Mormons purposed to leave Illinois in the spring, “for some point so remote that there will not need to be a difficulty with the people and ourselves.”

There can be little doubt that Douglas’s advice weighed heavily with the Mormons. As a judge, he had administered the law impartially between Mormon and non-Mormon; and this was none too common in the civic history of the Mormon Church. As an aspirant for office, he had frankly courted their suffrages; but times had changed. The reply of the commissioners, though not unkindly worded, contained some wholesome advice. “We think that steps should be taken by you to make it apparent that you are actually preparing to remove in the spring. By carrying out, in good faith, your proposition to remove, as submitted to us, we think you should be, and will be, permitted to depart peaceably next spring for your destination, west of the Rocky Mountains.... We recommend to you to place every possible restraint in your power over the members of your church, to prevent them from committing acts of aggression or retaliation on any citizens of the State, as a contrary course may, and most probably will, bring about a collision which will subvert all efforts to maintain the peace in this county; and we propose making a similar request of your opponents in this and the surrounding counties."

Announcing the result of their negotiations to the anti-Mormon people of Hancock County, the commissioners gave equally good advice: “Remember, whatever may be the aggression against you, the sympathy of the public may be forfeited. It cannot be denied that the burning of the houses of the Mormons ... was an act criminal in itself, and disgraceful to its perpetrators.... A resort to, or persistence in, such a course under existing circumstances will make you forfeit all the respect and sympathy of the community.”

Unhappily this advice was not long heeded by either side. While Douglas was giving his vote for men and money for the Mexican War and the gallant Hardin was serving his country in command of a regiment, “the last Mormon war” broke out, which culminated in the siege and evacuation of Nauvoo. Passing westward into No-man’s-land, the Mormons became eventually the founders of one of the Territories by which Douglas sought to span the continent.

It was only in the Northwest that the cry for the re-occupation of Oregon had the ring of sincerity; elsewhere it had been thought of as a response to the re-annexation of Texas,-more or less of a vote-catching device. The sentiment in Douglas’s constituency was strongly in favor of an aggressive policy in Oregon. The first band of Americans to go thither, for the single purpose of settlement and occupation, set out from Peoria. These were “young men of the right sort,” in whom the eternal Wanderlust of the race had been kindled by tales of returned missionaries. Public exercises were held on their departure, and the community sanctioned this outflow of its youthful strength. Dwellers in the older communities of the East had little sympathy with this enterprise. It was ill-timed, many hundred years in advance of the times. Why emigrate from a region but just reclaimed from barbarism, where good land was still abundant? Perhaps it was in reply to such doubts that an Illinois rhymester bade his New England brother

“Scan the opening glories of the West,
Her boundless prairies and her thousand streams,
The swarming millions who will crowd her breast,
’Mid scenes enchanting as a poet’s dreams:
And then bethink you of your own stern land,
Where ceaseless toil will scarce a pittance earn,
And gather quickly to a hopeful band,-
Say parting words,-and to the westward turn."

Douglas tingled to his fingers’ ends with the sentiment expressed in these lines. The prospect of forfeiting this Oregon country,-this greater Northwest,-to Great Britain, stirred all the belligerent blood in his veins. Had it fallen to him to word the Democratic platform, he would not have been able to choose a better phrase than “re-occupation of Oregon.” The elemental jealousy and hatred of the Western pioneer for the claim-jumper found its counterpart in his hostile attitude toward Great Britain. He was equally fearful lest a low estimate of the value of Oregon should make Congress indifferent to its future. He had endeavored to have Congress purchase copies of Greenhow’s History of the Northwest Coast of North America, so that his colleagues might inform themselves about this El Dorado.

There was, indeed, much ignorance about Oregon, in Congress and out. To the popular mind Oregon was the country drained by the Columbia River, a vast region on the northwest coast. As defined by the authority whom Douglas summoned to the aid of his colleagues, Oregon was the territory west of the Rocky Mountains between the parallels of 42 deg. and 54 deg. 40’ north latitude. Treaties between Russia and Great Britain, and between Russia and the United States, had fixed the southern boundary of Russian territory on the continent at 54 deg. 40’; a treaty between the United States and Spain had given the forty-second parallel as the northern boundary of the Spanish possessions; and a joint treaty of occupation between Great Britain and the United States in 1818,-renewed in 1827,-had established a modus vivendi between the rival claimants, which might be terminated by either party on twelve months’ notice. Meantime Great Britain and the United States were silent competitors for exclusive ownership of the mainland and islands between Spanish and Russian America. Whether the technical questions involved in these treaties were so easily dismissed, was something that did not concern the resolute expansionist. It was enough for him that, irrespective of title derived from priority of discovery, the United States had, as Greenhow expressed it, a stronger “national right,” by virtue of the process by which their people were settling the Mississippi Valley and the great West. This was but another way of stating the theory of manifest destiny.

No one knew better than Douglas that paper claims lost half their force unless followed up by vigorous action. Priority of occupation was a far better claim than priority of discovery. Hence, the government must encourage actual settlement on the Oregon. Two isolated bills that Douglas submitted to Congress are full of suggestion, when connected by this thought: one provided for the establishment of the territory of Nebraska; the other, for the establishment of military posts in the territories of Nebraska and Oregon, to protect the commerce of the United States with New Mexico and California, as well as emigration to Oregon. Though neither bill seems to have received serious consideration, both were to be forced upon the attention of Congress in after years by their persistent author.

A bill had already been reported by the Committee on Territories, boldly extending the government of the United States over the whole disputed area. Conservatives in both parties deprecated such action as both hasty and unwise, in view of negotiations then in progress; but the Hotspurs would listen to no prudential considerations. Sentiments such as those expressed by Morris of Pennsylvania irritated them beyond measure. Why protect this wandering population in Oregon? he asked. Let them take care of themselves; or if they cannot protect themselves, let the government defend them during the period of their infancy, and then let them form a republic of their own. He did not wish to imperil the Union by crossing barriers beyond which nature had intended that we should not go.

This frank, if not cynical, disregard of the claims of American emigrants,-“wandering and unsettled” people, Morris had called them,-brought Douglas to his feet. Memories of a lad who had himself once been a wanderer from the home of his fathers, spurred him to resent this thinly veiled contempt for Western emigrants and the part which they were manfully playing in the development of the West. The gentleman should say frankly, retorted Douglas, that he is desirous of dissolving the Union. Consistency should force him to take the ground that our Union must be dissolved and divided up into various, separate republics by the Alleghanies, the Green and the White Mountains. Besides, to cede the territory of Oregon to its inhabitants would be tantamount to ceding it to Great Britain. He, for one, would never yield an inch of Oregon either to Great Britain or any other government. He looked forward to a time when Oregon would become a considerable member of the great American family of States. Wait for the issue of the negotiations now pending? When had negotiations not been pending! Every man in his senses knew that there was no hope of getting the country by negotiation. He was for erecting a government on this side of the Rockies, extending our settlements under military protection, and then establishing the territorial government of Oregon. Facilitate the means of communication across the Rocky Mountains, and let the people there know and feel that they are a part of the government of the United States, and under its protection; that was his policy.

As for Great Britain: she had already run her network of possessions and fortifications around the United States. She was intriguing for California, and for Texas, and she had her eye on Cuba; she was insidiously trying to check the growth of republican institutions on this continent and to ruin our commerce. “It therefore becomes us to put this nation in a state of defense; and when we are told that this will lead to war, all I have to say is this, violate no treaty stipulations, nor any principle of the law of nations; preserve the honor and integrity of the country, but, at the same time, assert our right to the last inch, and then, if war comes, let it come. We may regret the necessity which produced it, but when it does come, I would administer to our citizens Hannibal’s oath of eternal enmity, and not terminate the war until the question was settled forever. I would blot out the lines on the map which now mark our national boundaries on this continent, and make the area of liberty as broad as the continent itself. I would not suffer petty rival republics to grow up here, engendering jealousy of each other, and interfering with each other’s domestic affairs, and continually endangering their peace. I do not wish to go beyond the great ocean-beyond those boundaries which the God of nature has marked out, I would limit myself only by that boundary which is so clearly defined by nature."

The vehemence of these words startled the House, although it was not the only belligerent speech on the Oregon question. Cooler heads, like J.Q. Adams, who feared the effect of such imprudent utterances falling upon British ears, remonstrated at the unseemly haste with which the bill was being “driven through” the House, and counselled with all the weight of years against the puerility of provoking war in this fashion. But the most that could be accomplished in the way of moderation was an amendment, which directed the President to give notice of the termination of our joint treaty of occupation with Great Britain. This precaution proved to be unnecessary, as the Senate failed to act upon the bill.

No one expected from the new President any masterful leadership of the people as a whole or of his party. Few listened with any marked attention, therefore, to his inaugural address. His references to Texas and Oregon were in accord with the professions of the Democratic party, except possibly at one point, which was not noted at the time but afterward widely commented upon. “Our title to the country of the Oregon,” said he, “is clear and unquestionable.” The text of the Baltimore platform read, “Our title to the whole of the territory of Oregon is clear and unquestionable.” Did President Polk mean to be ambiguous at this point? Had he any reason to swerve from the strict letter of the Democratic creed?

In his first message to Congress, President Polk alarmed staunch Democrats by stating that he had tried to compromise our clear and unquestionable claims, though he assured his party that he had done so only out of deference to his predecessor in office. Those inherited policies having led to naught, he was now prepared to reassert our title to the whole of Oregon, which was sustained “by irrefragable facts and arguments.” He would therefore recommend that provision be made for terminating the joint treaty of occupation, for extending the jurisdiction of the United States over American citizens in Oregon, and for protecting emigrants in transit through the Indian country. These were strong measures. They might lead to war; but the temper of Congress was warlike; and a group of Democrats in both houses was ready to take up the programme which the President had outlined. “Fifty-four forty or fight” was the cry with which they sought to rally the Chauvinists of both parties to their standard. While Cass led the skirmishing line in the Senate, Douglas forged to the fore in the House.

It is good evidence of the confidence placed in Douglas by his colleagues that, when territorial questions of more than ordinary importance were pending, he was appointed chairman of the Committee on Territories. If there was one division of legislative work in which he showed both capacity and talent, it was in the organization of our Western domain and in its preparation for statehood. The vision which dazzled his imagination was that of an ocean-bound republic; to that manifest destiny he had dedicated his talents, not by any self-conscious surrender, but by the irresistible sweep of his imagination, always impressed by things in the large and reinforced by contact with actual Western conditions. Finance, the tariff, and similar public questions of a technical nature, he was content to leave to others; but those which directly concerned the making of a continental republic he mastered with almost jealous eagerness. He had now attained a position, which, for fourteen years, was conceded to be indisputably his, for no sooner had he entered the Senate than he was made chairman of a similar committee. His career must be measured by the wisdom of his statesmanship in the peculiar problems which he was called upon to solve concerning the public domain. In this sphere he laid claim to expert judgment; from him, therefore, much was required; but it was the fate of nearly every territorial question to be bound up more or less intimately with the slavery question. Upon this delicate problem was Douglas also able to bring expert testimony to bear? Time only could tell. Meantime, the House Committee on Territories had urgent business on hand.

Texas was now knocking at the door of the Union, and awaited only a formal invitation to become one of the family of States, as the chairman was wont to say cheerily. Ten days after the opening of the session Douglas reported from his committee a joint resolution for the admission of Texas, “on an equal footing with the original states in all respects whatever." There was a certain pleonasm about this phrasing that revealed the hand of the chairman: the simple statement must be reinforced both for legal security and for rhetorical effect. Six days later, after but a single speech, the resolution went to a third reading and was passed by a large majority. Voted upon with equal dispatch by the Senate, and approved by the President, the joint resolution became law, December 29, 1845.

While the belligerent spirit of Congress had abated somewhat since the last session, no such change had passed over the gentleman from Illinois. No sooner had the Texas resolution been dispatched than he brought in a bill to protect American settlers in Oregon, while the joint treaty of occupation continued. He now acquiesced, it is true, in the more temperate course of first giving Great Britain twelve months’ notice before terminating this treaty; but he was just as averse as ever to compromise and arbitration. “For one,” said he, “I never will be satisfied with the valley of the Columbia, nor with 49 deg., nor with 54 deg. 40’; nor will I be, while Great Britain shall hold possession of one acre on the northwest coast of America. And, Sir, I never will agree to any arrangement that shall recognize her right to one inch of soil upon the northwest coast; and for this simple reason: Great Britain never did own, she never did have a valid title to one inch of the country." He moved that the question of title should not be left to arbitration. His countrymen, he felt sure, would never trust their interests to European arbitrators, prejudiced as they inevitably would be by their monarchical environment. This feeling was, indeed, shared by the President and his cabinet advisers.

With somewhat staggering frankness, Douglas laid bare his inmost motive for unflinching opposition to Great Britain. The value of Oregon was not to be measured by the extent of its seacoast nor by the quality of its soil. “The great point at issue between us and Great Britain is for the freedom of the Pacific Ocean, for the trade of China and Japan, of the East Indies, and for the maritime ascendency on all these waters.” Oregon held a strategic position on the Pacific, controlling the overland route between the Atlantic and the Orient. If this country were yielded to Great Britain-“this power which holds control over all the balance of the globe,”-it would make her maritime ascendency complete.

Stripped of its rhetorical garb, Douglas’s speech of January 27, 1846, must be acknowledged to have a substratum of good sense and the elements of a true prophecy. When it is recalled that recent developments in the Orient have indeed made the mastery of the Pacific one of the momentous questions of the immediate future, that the United States did not then possess either California or Alaska, and that Oregon included the only available harbors on the coast,-the pleas of Douglas, which rang false in the ears of his own generation, sound prophetic in ours. Yet all that he said was vitiated by a fallacy which a glance at a map of the Northwest will expose. The line of 49 deg. eventually gave to the United States Puget Sound with its ample harbors.

Perhaps it was the same uncompromising spirit that prompted Douglas’s constituents in far away Illinois to seize the moment to endorse his course in Congress. Early in January, nineteen delegates, defying the inclemency of the season, met in convention at Rushville, and renominated Douglas for Congress by acclamation. History maintains an impenetrable silence regarding these faithful nineteen; it is enough to know that Douglas had no opposition to encounter in his own bailiwick.

When the joint resolution to terminate the treaty of occupation came to a vote, the intransigeants endeavored to substitute a declaration to the effect that Oregon was no longer a subject for negotiation or compromise. It was a silly proposition, in view of the circumstances, yet it mustered ten supporters. Among those who passed between the tellers, with cries of “54 deg. 40’ forever,” amid the laughter of the House, were Stephen A. Douglas and four of his Illinois colleagues. Against the substitute, one hundred and forty-six votes were recorded,-an emphatic rebuke, if only the ten had chosen so to regard it.

While the House resolution was under consideration in the Senate, it was noised abroad that President Polk still considered himself free to compromise with Great Britain on the line of 49 deg.. Consternation fell upon the Ultras. In the words of Senator Hannegan, they had believed the President committed to 54 deg. 40’ in as strong language as that which makes up the Holy Book. As rumor passed into certainty, the feelings of Douglas can be imagined, but not described. He had committed himself, and,-so far as in him lay,-his party, to the line of 54 deg. 40’, in full confidence that Polk, party man that he was, would stubbornly contest every inch of that territory. He had called on the dogs of war in dauntless fashion, and now to find “the standard-bearer of Democracy,” “Young Hickory,” and many of his party, disposed to compromise on 49 deg.,-it was all too exasperating for words. In contrast to the soberer counsels that now prevailed, his impetuous advocacy of the whole of Oregon seemed decidedly boyish. It was greatly to his credit, however, that, while smarting under the humiliation of the moment, he imposed restraint upon his temper and indulged in no bitter language.

Some weeks later, Douglas intimated that some of his party associates had proved false to the professions of the Baltimore platform. No Democrat, he thought, could consistently accept part of Oregon instead of the whole. “Does the gentleman,” asked Seddon, drawing him out for the edification of the House, “hold that the Democratic party is pledged to 54 deg. 40’?” Douglas replied emphatically that he thought the party was thus solemnly pledged. “Does the gentleman,” persisted his interrogator, “understand the President to have violated the Democratic creed in offering to compromise on 49 deg.?” Douglas replied that he did understand Mr. Polk in his inaugural address “as standing up erect to the pledge of the Baltimore Convention.” And if ever negotiations were again opened in violation of that pledge, “sooner let his tongue cleave to the roof of his mouth than he would defend that party which should yield one inch of Oregon." Evidently he had made up his mind to maintain his ground. Perhaps he had faint hopes that the administration would not compromise our claims. He still clung tenaciously to his bill for extending governmental protection over American citizens in Oregon and for encouraging emigration to the Pacific coast; and in the end he had the empty satisfaction of seeing it pass the House.

Meantime a war-cloud had been gathering in the Southwest. On May 11th, President Polk announced that war existed by act of Mexico. From this moment an amicable settlement with Great Britain was assured. The most bellicose spirit in Congress dared not offer to prosecute two wars at the same time. The warlike roar of the fifty-four forty men subsided into a murmur of mild disapprobation. Yet Douglas was not among those who sulked in their tents. To the surprise of his colleagues, he accepted the situation, and he was among the first to defend the President’s course in the Mexico imbroglio.

A month passed before Douglas had occasion to call at the White House. He was in no genial temper, for aside from personal grievances in the Oregon affair, he had been disappointed in the President’s recent appointments to office in Illinois. The President marked his unfriendly air, and suspecting the cause, took pains to justify his course not only in the matter of the appointments, but in the Oregon affair. If not convinced, Douglas was at least willing to let bygones be bygones. Upon taking his departure, he assured the President that he would continue to support the administration. The President responded graciously that Mr. Douglas could lead the Democratic party in the House if he chose to do so.

When President Polk announced to Congress the conclusion of the Oregon treaty with Great Britain, he recommended the organization of a territorial government for the newly acquired country, at the earliest practicable moment. Hardly had the President’s message been read, when Douglas offered a bill of this tenor, stating that it had been prepared before the terms of the treaty had been made public. His committee had not named the boundaries of the new Territory in the bill, for obvious reasons. He also stated, parenthetically, that he felt so keenly the humiliation of writing down the boundary of 49 deg., that he preferred to leave that duty to those who had consented to compromise our claims. In drafting the bill, he had kept in mind the provisional government adopted by the people of Oregon: as they had in turn borrowed nearly all the statutes of Iowa, it was to be presumed that the people knew their own needs better than Congress.

Before the bill passed the House it was amended at one notable point. Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude should ever exist in the Territory, following the provision in the Ordinance of 1787 for the Northwest Territory. Presumably Douglas was not opposed to this amendment, though he voted against the famous Wilmot Proviso two days later. Already Douglas showed a disposition to escape the toils of the slavery question by a laissez faire policy, which was compounded of indifference to the institution itself and of a strong attachment to states-rights. When Florida applied for admission into the Union with a constitution that forbade the emancipation of slaves and permitted the exclusion of free negroes, he denied the right of Congress to refuse to receive the new State. The framers of the Federal Constitution never intended that Congress should pass upon the propriety or expediency of each clause in the constitutions of States applying for admission. The great diversity of opinion resulting from diversity of climate, soil, pursuits, and customs, made uniformity impossible. The people of each State were to form their constitution in their own way, subject to the single restriction that it should be republican in character. “They are subject to the jurisdiction and control of Congress during their infancy, their minority; but when they obtain their majority and obtain admission into the Union, they are free from all restraints ... except such as the Constitution of the United States has imposed."

The absorbing interest of Douglas at this point in his career is perfectly clear. To span the continent with States and Territories, to create an ocean-bound republic, has often seemed a gross, materialistic ideal. Has a nation no higher destiny than mere territorial bigness? Must an intensive culture with spiritual aims be sacrificed to a vulgar exploitation of physical resources? Yet the ends which this strenuous Westerner had in view were not wholly gross and materialistic. To create the body of a great American Commonwealth by removing barriers to its continental expansion, so that the soul of Liberty might dwell within it, was no vulgar ambition. The conquest of the continent must be accounted one of the really great achievements of the century. In this dramatic exploit Douglas was at times an irresponsible, but never a weak nor a false actor.

The session ended where it had begun, so far as Oregon was concerned. The Senate failed to act upon the bill to establish a territorial government; the earlier bill to protect American settlers also failed of adoption; and thus American caravans continued to cross the plains unprotected and ignored. But Congress had annexed a war.