Exactly how a man with as much disdain for politics,
glad-handling, pandering, and seeking voter approval came to be elected
President of the United States is a great anomaly - even for the early
19th-century. And as for Adams' disclaimers that he would not actively seek the
office, author James Traub discounts much of Adams' protestations, "Adams
was not less ambitious than other men, but he had learned from childhood to
force his appetite through the narrow streets of principal. Republicanism, for
Adams, meant self-abnegation."
How we elected presidents in 1824 would seem foreign [or, given
the 2016 race, maybe not] today. By
1824. of the 24 states in the Union, six - including New York - left the choice of president up to the
state legislature. In other states,
legislators set the terms of the state-wide or district-by-district
balloting that determined the outcome. Regardless, it is worth noting that less
than 350,000 Americans - out of a population of 11,000,000 - actually cast a
vote in the 1824 election.
In the race, Andrew Jackson was the only candidate to have truly
national support. In those states were citizens voted for president, Jackson
had received 153,544 votes; Adams 108,740 votes; Clay 47,136 votes; and William
Crawford 46,618 votes. But it was the Electoral votes that counted, and here
the final tally read Jackson 99 votes; Adams 84; Crawford 41; and Clay 37. The
top-three Electoral vote-getters [Jackson,
Adams, and Crawford] would be on the ballot in the House of Representatives,
with a vote scheduled for February 9, 1825.
For a man who had disclaimed to not want to seek the presidency,
Adams' behavior between November 1824-February 1825 said otherwise. As Traub notes, "Adams could have taken
the position that the nation had spoken, the voters had chosen Jackson, that [Adams’]
candidacy had remained alive only by virtue of a constitutional technicality.
That is, he could have withdrawn. Jackson's friends put it out that this would
be the correct thing for Adams to do. There is no sign that this idea crossed [Adams]
mind. Adams would not have acknowledged that anything in the Constitution could
be deemed a 'technicality'....Already he had allowed himself to offer the kind
of veiled reassurances [to others] that once would have struck him as low
political bargaining; now he would shred the fine tissue of his
conscience."
This, of course, refers to the so-called "Corrupt
Bargain" between Adams and Clay - the theory being that Clay promised to
release Kentucky's vote [in the House] to Adams in return for Adams appointing
Clay Secretary of State. The famous meeting between the two men took
place on January 9, 1825. Henry Clay was from Kentucky. Thus, Traub notes,
"Adams had not received a single popular vote in Kentucky - not one.
Jackson was immensely popular there, and the state plainly would have gone for [Jackson]
had Clay not been a favorite son. Adams would never have to know how Clay would
exert his influence [on the Kentucky House vote], but he would know that the
consequence was that the will of the people [of Kentucky] would be overborne.
That was a great violation of his own Republican principles. Adams would have said
that no price was worth paying for the sacrifice of principal, but there is no
sign that he believed at the time that he had done any such thing. He was
thinking about the goal, not the means." By the end of January word of the
"Corrupt Bargain" had leaked out. On February 9, 1825, Adams
surprisingly won on the first ballot.
By any objective measure, Adams' presidency accomplished almost
literally nothing. Much of that was preordained by the manner in which Adams
secured the office in the first place. From the moment of the House vote,
Jackson and his supporters launched the 1828 campaign against Adams. Add to
that Adams' complete unwillingness to reward supporters and punish opponents
with patronage sealed his fate and were a recipe for disaster.
In his first months in office, Adams was clearly a man that
needed to shore up his political base. In addition, he should have been keen to
avoid any topics that could possibly unite his varied opposition into a single
cohort that could rally around Jackson.
Instead, now that he had secured the presidency - and perhaps because he
knew he had only four years in the office - he planned on trying to implement
what had been called the "American System" - initially put forth by
Clay but to which Adams had quickly subscribed.
The American System included internal improvements and a much larger
role for the federal government in the lives of all Americans. As beneficial to
the nation as the American System would be, though, it was also guaranteed to
give the opposition a cause to unite behind Jackson and against Adams.
Adams' own Vice President, John Calhoun, led the opposition from
inside the administration. Traub notes, "It is striking - in fact, it's
astonishing - that not only political schemers and proslavery advocates and reactionary
ideologues but one of the nation's greatest political thinkers [Calhoun] had
come to adopt a conspiracy theory [the "Corrupt Bargain"] about the
president with no obvious foundation. Adams' adversaries could not accept him
as president, and not only because he had failed to win a majority and then
eked out a victory through a form of subterfuge. These men saw Adams as the
representative of an archaic elite that had lost whatever right it had once had
to govern the nation. And the president gave them all the help they needed by
acting like just such a throwback. As a matter of character, he was, indeed, a
remnant. His ideas were bold and forward-looking, but he formulated them at a
moment when most Americans were seeking liberty rather than power. He was a man
both behind his times and ahead of them." British historian George
Dangerfield summed up Adams' presidency as, "a rather conspicuous example
of a great man in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the right motives
and a tragic inability to make himself understood."
On December 3, 1828, Adams learned that he had been defeated by
Andrew Jackson. Jackson won 178 electoral votes to Adams' 83. Traub writes,
"Adams’ support was confined to New England and the mid-Atlantic [not
including New York]. The popular vote was twice the size of the 1824 figure,
and Jackson received 56% of the total."
Amazingly, though, Adams was not done. He was elected to the
House of Representatives on December 6, 1830. Because of the schedule at the time, though, he
would not actually enter Congress for one year. It was there, in December 1831,
Traub writes, that, "Adams' first act in Congress was the presentation of
twelve petitions from citizens in Pennsylvania seeking the abolition of slavery
in the District of Columbia, over which the Congress exercised jurisdiction.… Adams, however, accompanied
the presentation with his maiden speech, which he used to make a very strange
assertion that he did not believe the issue was suitable for congressional
debate… Adams explained that he felt obliged to present petitions from his
fellow citizens but saw no point in exacerbating 'ill will' and 'heart
burnings' in the House, which would never vote to curb slavery.... For all his
hatred of slavery, Adams was not about to waste the precious time of Congress
on an ill it was not prepared to address."
In late-1831, these petitions did not generate much reaction from
the South. By late 1835, however,
representatives of slave states in Congress no longer viewed the presentation
of anti-slavery petitions as harmless. Rep. James Henry Hammond of South
Carolina proposed that the House refuse to receive such petitions - Congress
had never prohibited these petitions on any subject before. Traub writes,
"Yet, while Southern planters rose one after another to defend [Hammond's]
proposal, free-state representatives remained silent. The South could not
dominate public opinion, but thanks to the three-fifths compromise [in the
Constitution] it could, and did, dominate the House of Representatives." Up until now, Adams had felt Congress could
not outlaw slavery in D.C.; but he'd dutifully reported all petitions
requesting such, knowing they'd go nowhere. Now, though, Adams warned that if
the House did not allow them to even be considered,
"it would force a discussion on slavery itself to the floor. In that case,
he said, 'the speeches of my colleagues, probably of myself, will be incendiary
because, if discussion is thrust upon us, I doubt not I might make a speech as
incendiary as any pamphlet upon which such torrents of denunciation have been
poured upon us.'" Here, Traub notes
ironically, "Adams appeared to be counseling the slave-state
representatives on their self-interest. If he was defending anything, it was
the 'sacred' right of petition rather than the human rights of slaves. But that
wasn't quite so, for he was also plainly threatening a righteous assault on
slavery from worthy, honest, and honorable men."
Adams personally abhorred slavery. But as late as 1835, Traub
writes, "Adam saw no way out on slavery. He knew that his constituents [in
Massachusetts] did not share his passionate convictions. He did not seek to
meet with abolitionists, and he did not look for opportunities to reveal his
views in Congress....The rise of anti-slavery petitions, on the other hand,
presented Adams with an issue on which he had unambiguous feelings. A debate on
the gag rule would forward him the high ground in a debate with the
slaveocracy. If it allowed him at the same time to disclose the horrors of
slavery, so much the better." With the approval of the so-called "Gag
Rule" against anti-slavery petitions in 1836, Traub writes, "Adams
was now prepared to use his own solitary resistance to the slaveocracy to
illustrate and publicize the grave threats to cherished constitutional
liberties that accompanied the defense of slavery. Adams was staging a theater
of martyrdom - a species of drama to which, thanks to his rhetorical gifts, his
fearlessness, his towering sense of moral purpose, he was supremely well-suited."
Yet it is important to reinforce that as of 1836, Adams still
refused to allow himself to be identified with abolitionism. For one thing,
Adams at the time did not share, "their views on ending slavery in
Washington or on the imperative of immediate abolition, which he feared would
lead to insurrection and race war." While petitions were one thing he was
willing to stubbornly protect, "he understood that if he called for an
immediate end to slavery, even [just] in Washington, as the abolitionists
implored him to do, he would marginalize himself in Congress and in national
public opinion. Adams continued to maintain a wary distance from the
abolitionists."
Yet by the fall of 1837 abolitionism had spread across the
country with astonishing speed. Over the course of the 1837-38 congressional
session, legislators would receive 412,000 slave-related petitions. In return,
there was violent opposition. The geographic location of that violence, however
was surprising. Traub writes that
ironically, by 1838, "abolitionists needed protection not in the South,
where few ventured, but in the cities of the North and the West, where most
people viewed them as radicals seeking to tear the country in half. For every
abolitionist newspaper there were two or three [papers] inciting readers to
fury against the anti-slavery activists. No place was safe from the lynch mob -
not even Philadelphia, the home of the abolitionist movement."
The threat of violence went directly to John Quincy Adams. Traub writes that by the late 1830s, Adams'
daily mail, "began to include… an astounding number of death threats....
All the letters came from the South. Slaveholders seem to have persuaded
themselves, and one another, that by killing Adams they could scotch the snake
of abolitionism. This was a delusion, of course, but also a remarkable tribute
to Adams' reputation as the scourge of the slaveholders. The fact that Adams
was not even an abolitionist seemed not to matter, for few men had launched so
frontal an attack on slaveowners as Adams had."
Then came the Amistad.
In late summer-1839,
an American naval vessel had encountered a slave-trading ship, the Amistad, off the tip of Long Island.
After finding that the captives, whom the American naval officer took to be
slaves, had mutinied and killed the ship's captain and cook, and were now
seeking to return to Africa, the naval officer seized the ship with its human
cargo and brought it into port in New London, Connecticut. The tribulations of the captives on the ship were
abhorrent. They had been free people living in Africa until being captured and
enslaved before being put on the Amistad.
Even upon being held in the United States, they would undergo another two years
of captivity before receiving their freedom. Which would come, in part, thanks
to John Quincy Adams.
Why would Adams become involved in such a case. Traub writes,
"Adams had just finished excoriating the [abolition] movement for
imagining that slavery could be ended by righteous rhetoric. He considered
[abolitionist leader William Lloyd] Garrison a wild-eyed radical. The captives
on the Amistad had apparently killed
a white man in cold blood. Why, then, had Adams so quickly leapt to their
defense? Certainly Adams felt very differently about enforcing the laws and treaties
that prohibited the slave trade then he did about the quixotic effort to
overturn settled law in the face of overwhelming resistance. But Adams' quick
reaction also showed that he hated slavery as viscerally as [the abolitionists]
did, and that he instinctively saw slaves as fully human beings. And for Adams,
a republican in his very soul, mankind's great distinguishing feature was the
inextinguishable wish for liberty."
The case went to the Supreme Court. Adams was not needed as an
attorney - the captives had a brilliant one in Roger Sherman Baldwin - but
Traub writes they needed Adams as, "a man of national stature who could
present to the Justices a vision of American national interest more compelling
than the one the government [in the form of the outgoing Van Buren
Administration] would deploy in arguing to honor the terms of the treaty with
Spain [which would have sent the Amistad
captives back into slavery]. They needed an attorney who could speak to the
Justices as an equal. And of course they needed someone prepared to risk his
reputation for a noble cause." The court upheld the captives and freed the
slaves on board the ship.
As with most accomplishments, we often wonder exactly how much
influence the protagonist had in the outcome. Traub notes that, as far as how
much credit for the Court's
decision belongs to Adams, "We cannot know, of course, how the Court would
have voted in his absence, but the truth is that, once the [lower] Circuit
Court had accepted that the captives were neither pirates nor slaves, the Appellant - the federal government -
was left to advance Spain's dubious interpretation of the Treaty of 1795. It
was a weak case. And [the slaves' attorney,] Baldwin made a fairly convincing
argument before the Circuit Court and the Supreme Court. Adams may have won
some extra votes. Beyond that, though, he had brought to the case both his
priceless reputation for integrity and the sheer fact of his fame, elevating it
in the public mind into the great cause of the day. The Amistad case set no lasting legal precedent; it was, however, a
ringing triumph for abolitionism."
By 1842, Adams was an abolitionist. On January 21,1842, Adams
introduced two petitions in the House that set it ablaze. Traub writes that, "he presented a petition from
citizens of Massachusetts complaining that the slave states, by their
'absolutely despotic, onerous and oppressive' behavior, had denied the free
states their constitutionally guaranteed right to republican government."
The second petition was, "a warning from the citizens of Pennsylvania that
the nation was prepared to go to war with Great Britain to protect the slave
interest, a reference to the mounting tensions over England's insistence on
boarding American vessels in order to search for slaves." After these two
petitions were read, the House was in turmoil. Many of the slave
representatives called for a vote to censure Adams. Then one of these opponents
overreached and called for him to be expelled from the House. When that effort
was defeated handily, "Adams had shattered the overweening confidence of
the South.... The South had fought a pitched battle over petitions and lost.
Two more years would have to pass before the House defeated the Gag Rule, but
as of that moment southern resistance was spent. The mistake of the
abolitionists, however, was to believe that slavery could not survive a
crushing defeat in the court of public opinion."
At the age of 75, "Adams no longer saw his beloved country
as the world's shining beacon of liberty.… He had begun to identify with the
global champion of abolitionism.... Adams believed that the influence of the
slave power was leading the United States to surrender the principles it had
cherished since the time of George Washington."
By now, opinions of John Quincy Adams were changing. Unlike any
of his predecessors, Adams lived to see his reputation restored in his lifetime
- largely because of his own post-presidential efforts. As Traub writes, "As the first president
to have gone back to work after his tenure, Adams had given himself the
opportunity, as none of his predecessors had, to benefit from a 'sober second
thought'. He had changed the meanings Americans attached to him. No longer the
dynastic New Englander who represented an archaic federalist America, Adams had
become the dauntless standard-bearer of the very modern cause of abolitionism.
At the same time, his rootedness in the republican principles of the founders
also placed him on a pedestal in the national pantheon. Indeed, the very fact
that he had not changed, that he had stood for principles when they were
despised and lived to see them vindicated, offered the most powerful evidence
of his greatness of character."
No comments:
Post a Comment