Part 66 (1/2)
The South retorted in kind. _De Bow's Review_ declared:
”The basic framework and controlling inference of Northern sentiment is Puritanic, the old Roundhead rebel refuse of England, which has ever been an unruly sect of Pharisees, the worst bigots on earth and the meanest tyrants when they have the power to exercise it.”
When the Conventions met a few months later to name candidates for the Presidency and make a declaration of principles, leaders had ceased to lead and there were no principles to declare.
The mob mind was supreme.
The Democratic Convention met at Charleston, South Carolina, to name the successor of James Buchanan. Their const.i.tuents commanded a vast majority of the voters of the Nation. The Convention became a mob. The one man, the one giant leader left in the republic, the one constructive mind, the one man of political genius who could have saved the nation from the holocaust toward which it was plunging was Stephen A. Douglas of Illinois. He could have been elected President by an overwhelming majority had he been nominated by this united convention. He was ent.i.tled to the nomination. He had proven himself a statesman of the highest rank. He had proven himself impervious to sectional hatred or sectional appeal. He was a Northern man, but a friend of the South as well as the North. He was an American of the n.o.blest type.
But the radical wing of his party in the South were seeing Red. Old Brown's words to them meant the spirit of the North. They heard echoing and reechoing from every newspaper and pulpit:
”I, JOHN BROWN, AM NOW QUITE CERTAIN THAT THE CRIMES OF THIS GUILTY LAND WILL NEVER BE PURGED AWAY BUT WITH BLOOD.”
If the hour for bloodshed had come they demanded that the South prepare without further words. And they believed that the hour had come. They heard the tread of swarming hosts. They were eager to meet them.
Reason was flung to the winds. Pa.s.sion ruled. Compromise was a thing beyond discussion. Douglas was a Northern man and they would have none of him. He was hooted and catcalled until he was compelled to withdraw from the Convention.
The radical South named their own candidate for President. He couldn't be elected. No matter. War was inevitable.
Let it come.
The Northern Democratic Convention named Douglas for President. He couldn't be elected. No matter. War was inevitable. Let it come.
In dumb amazement at the tragedy approaching--the tragedy of a divided Union and a b.l.o.o.d.y civil war--the Union men of the party nominated a third ticket, Bell of Tennessee and Everett of Ma.s.sachusetts. They couldn't be elected. No matter. War was inevitable. It had to come. They would stand by their principles and go down with them.
When the new Republican party met at Chicago they were sobered by the responsibility suddenly thrust upon them of naming the next President of the United States. Fremont, a mere figurehead as their candidate, had polled a million votes in the campaign before. With three Democratic tickets in the field, success was sure.
They wrote a conservative platform and named for their candidate Abraham Lincoln, the one man in their party who had denounced John Brown's deeds, the man who had declared in his debates with Douglas that he did not believe in making negroes voters or jurors, that he did not believe in the equality of the races, that he did not believe that two such races could ever live together in a Democracy on terms of political or social equality.
Their candidate was the gentlest, broadest, sanest man within their ranks. Unless the nation had already gone mad they felt that in his triumph they would be safe from the Red Menace which stalked through their crowded hall. Their radical leaders were furious. But they were compelled to submit and fight for his election. The life of their party depended on it. Their own life was bound up in their party.
There was really but one issue before the nation--peace or war. The new party, both in its candidate and its platform, sought with all its power to stem the Red Tide of the Blood Feud which John Brown had raised.
Their well-meant efforts came too late.
War is a condition of mind primarily. Its causes are always psychological--not physical. The result of this state of mind is an abnormal condition of the nervous system, in which the thoughts and acts of men are controlled by the collective mind--the mob mind. Indians execute their war dances for days and nights to produce this mental state. Once it had been created, the war cry alone can be heard.
This mind, once formed, deliberative bodies cease to exist. The Congress of the United States ceased to exist as a deliberative body at the session which followed John Brown's execution.
The atmosphere of both the Senate and the House was electric with hatred and pa.s.sion. Men who met at the last session as friends, now glared into each other's faces, mortal enemies.
L. Q. C. Lamar, the young statesman from Mississippi, threw a firebrand into the House on the day of its opening.
”The Republicans of this House are not guiltless of the blood of John Brown, his conspirators, and the innocent victims of his ruthless vengeance.”
Keitt of South Carolina shouted:
”The South asks nothing but her rights. I would have no more, but as G.o.d is my judge I would shatter this republic from turret to foundation stone before I would take a little less!”
Old Thaddeus Stevens of Pennsylvania scrambled up on his club foot and with a face flaming with scorn replied: