A Fool's Errand & Bricks without Straw
Page 16
According to custom, the candidates were called upon to make speeches in acceptance; and the Fool in so doing acknowledged himself quite unprepared to state the line of conduct he should propose in the convention, beyond the acquaintance of the conditions prescribed in the Acts under which the election would be held, but promised to set it forth in a printed circular, that all might read and understand his position. The next week this document came out. It does not seem half so revolutionary as it really was. It read, —
"I shall, if elected, favor: —
"1. Equal civil and political rights to all men.
"2. The abolition of property qualifications for voters, officers, and jurors.
"3. Election by the people of all officers — legislative, executive, and judicial — in the state, the counties, the municipalities.
"4. Penal reform: the abolition of the whipping-post, the stocks, and the branding-iron; and the reduction of capital felonies from seventeen to one, or at most two.
"5. Uniform and ad valorem taxation upon property, and a limitation of capitation tax to not more than three days labor upon the public roads in each year, or an equivalent thereof.
"6. An effective system of public schools."
The Fool had no idea that he was committing an enormity; but from that day he became an outlaw in the land where he hoped to have made a home, and which he desired faithfully to serve.
There was a short, sharp canvass, a quiet election, and one day there came to the Fool's address an official document bearing the imprint of the "Headquarters of the Military District" in which he lived, certifying that "Comfort Servosse had been duly elected a delegate to the Constitutional Convention to be held pursuant to the acts of Congress." With him went as members of that body some old friends whom we have met in these pages; among them John Walters, who was the delegate-elect from his county.
CHAPTER XXIV
"WISDOM CRIETH IN THE STREETS"
Table of Contents
IMMEDIATELY after the fact of his election became known, the Wise Men who had framed those laws under which the greatest political experiment of modern civilization was to be made, began to write letters to the Fool, all filled with kind and paternal advice as to what the body of which he had just been elected a member ought to do, and when and how it should all be done, as well as a thousand cautions and warnings as to what ought not to be done. The wisdom of these men was most wonderful, in that it not only served for their own purposes, but actually overflowed in superabundant advice to the rest of mankind. It is true that they knew less than nothing of the thoughts, feelings, situations, and surroundings of those people for whose moral and political ills they were prescribing remedies, because the facts which they had apprehended were so colored and modified by others which they could not comprehend, that their conclusions were more likely to be wrong than right. But they were not troubled by any reflection of this kind, because they were quite unconscious that any thing could exist without their knowledge, and never dreamed that careful investigation, study, and time were necessary to restore a nation which had just outlived the fever-fire of civil war; and certainly they were not responsible for not knowing that which they did not dream had any existence.
One of these letters lies before me now. It bears the autograph of one of the wisest of the Wise Men. It is a very great name, — a name that is found in the statesman's annals, and appears on the roll of the United States Senate, year after year, for a period longer than most men's public lives are privileged to reach. He was a man of wonderful foresight and unerring judgment, so it was said. He knew his State from center to circumference, and never missed the temper of its people. It was said that he was never an hour too late, nor a day too early, in proclaiming his opinions upon any political question. Through a certain range of thought his convictions rose and fell with the flood of popular sentiment; and, could the wavering lines described by the sphygmograph which the physician sometimes laid upon his wrist, have been translated into articulate words, they would have told the precise story of public sentiment in her domains ever since he engaged in the service of the Commonwealth of — — . This sentiment was the divining-rod by which he traced his political footsteps; and so he wrote the following persuasive letter to the Fool: —
SENATE CHAMBER, WASHINGTON, D.C.,
Dec. 16, 1867.
MY DEAR COLONEL, — I was very much gratified to know that you are one of the delegates selected to represent your county in the Constitutional Convention of your State. Your record as a Union soldier, and well-known and acknowledged ability, lead us to expect very much of you. And by "us" I do not mean the members of Congress and senators merely, but the party of the Union throughout the country. We are well aware that you did not in all respects approve the plan of Reconstruction which was finally adopted; neither did I: and yet, perhaps, we could have done no better. You see it was absolutely necessary to do something. Three years have almost elapsed since the war was over, and nothing has been done to establish any permanent system of restoration or plan of government for that part of the national domain. The usurpative acts of the President have done much to complicate the situation. He has gone over to the enemy, — or, rather, they have rallied to his support, — and will no doubt have, in the coming presidential contest, not only the vast patronage which he controls thrown in their favor, but also the hearty support of those dissatisfied of our party who think that every thing should have been done and settled, and the South restored to her Federal relations, long before this time. This will make the contest a very close and doubtful one, unless we can do two things: —
1. We must be able to point to an accomplished restoration, — the South reconstructed, represented, or ready for representation, under the congressional plan.
2. We must have the support of these States in the presidential contest next fall.
3. In order to secure the adoption of the new Constitutional Amendments beyond question, we must have the votes of these States. If this is not secured, it is more than doubtful whether the courts will recognize those acts.
The President will undoubtedly do all in his power to delay, hinder, and frustrate these ends. Your convention will probably be put off as long as possible, and every effort made to delay its proceedings. It is of prime importance, therefore, that its action, when once assembled, should not be unnecessarily protracted a single instant. We are looking confidently to you to promote these ends. It is the opinion of our best men here, that all your convention should attempt to do is to adopt the former Constitution of the State, with a provision inserted against slavery, and another denouncing secession, prohibit the payment of Confederate debts, provide for impartial suffrage, and adjourn. This can be done in a week or ten days, at the farthest, and the proceedings forwarded here so as to prevent delay. If this is done, the Southern States can all be counted on in the presidential election; and, under a favorable administration, whatever further changes are necessary can be easily effected.
Unless we can secure the votes of these States, the election of a President by our party and the adoption of the Constitutional Amendments are very doubtful, perhaps impossible. Upon the accession of a President from the opposition party, with a majority in the House of Representatives, the representatives from these States under the Johnsonian plan would no doubt be admitted; and the colored people and white Unionists of the South would have no protection, and the nation no guaranties against future rebellion.
A — — and B — — and C — — of your State, who have written to me, quite concur in these views. We confidently expect your approval and co-operation. Dispatch is of the utmost importance. Let there be no delay. I would like to hear from you immediately. Copies of such amendments as are deemed necessary to be made will be forwarded to some delegate before the convention meets, and I earnestly recommend that nothing further be attempted to be done.
With the highest respect, my dear Colonel,
I remain your obedient servant,
— — .
COL. COMFORT SERVOSSE, Warrington.
We omit the great name which appears in scraggly characters on the now yellow and dingy scroll. How swiftly the tooth of Time gnaws away the inscriptions of fame! Only a decade has passed, and the restless brain and heart of vaulting ambition which dictated these lines, no doubt hoping thereby to smooth somewhat his pathway to the highest place in the nation, overwhelmed with the chagrin of repeated disappointment, has moldered into dust, and almost passed into forgetfulness.
The Fool answered this and other letters of like character with that lack of reverence for great names which the active participant in great events unconsciously acquires. Ten years before, he would have accepted this wise man's views upon any question of governmental policy, with the same undoubting faith that the humblest believer gives to the written and revealed Word. He would neither have questioned his position, doubted his motives, nor suspected his statesmanship. Now, alas! since his unfortunate accès de la folie, he had seen so many great reputations wither in the councils of the nation, in the freer and grander struggle of public opinion, and on the field of battle, — he had so often seen the much-vaunted Old give way to the bolder and stronger New, that he had lost that due veneration and regard for age and rank which mark the thoroughly sound and well-ordered mind. Experience of the fallibility of the few very wise men whom he had met had no doubt tended to increase the effects of his infirmity, and confirm an unfortunate delusion which he had, that even wise men are capable of error.
Just about this time, too, there occurred a most unfortunate circumstance, which had the melancholy effect to confirm this delusion. One of the wisest of these very wise men had long been impressed with a belief that a new revelation of the Gospel of Peace, especially adapted to that time and occasion, had been made to him alone, and that it needed but the inspiration of his presence, the deep sincerity of his sonorous sub-vocals, the power of his imperious but most kindly countenance, to ring the most obdurate of the recent rebels back to subservient complacency. Now, unfortunately, instead of leaving this beautiful theory to remain unmarred by the rude test of practice, as most wise men do with their finest theories, he insisted on submitting it to that coarse ordeal. Accordingly, after being duly heralded by the newspapers of the country, he tremblingly took his life in his hand, and, with a body-guard of reporters and stenographers, made a raid into this borderland of civilization to proclaim political light and life. Something in his speech there was which failed to please; and first angry words, and then the angrier bark of Derringer and revolver, followed. The crowd scattered, the body-guard disappeared; and that most amiable of controversies, a genteel Southern fight, took place under the eye of the Wise Man, or, rather, under his ear, as he crouched behind the desk from which he had a moment before been expounding "the law of love as co-equal and co-ordinate with the love of law; these being mutually interdependent upon and generative of the other." The Fool had chuckled again and again at this Wise Man's discomfiture, and was never tired of adducing it as an instance of the failure of wisdom at long-range when pitted against sense at short-taw. So, in response to the letter which has been given, he very foolishly wrote thus: —
WARRINGTON, Dec. 20, 1867.
TO THE HONORABLE — — , SENATOR.
Sir, — Your letter of the 15th, advising me as to my duties as a delegate to the Constitutional Convention to be held at the call of the general commanding this military district, was duly received, and has been given the consideration which it merits by the personal eminence and official station of the writer. It is with regret that I find myself compelled to differ from one occupying your exalted station, both as a statesman, a patriot, and a Republican leader, upon a matter which you deem so vital in many respects. I can not say I regard the convention as less important than you do, but rather as even more so, though in quite a different sense. From a purely partisan stand-point, I should be inclined to concur with your view, if I could believe present success to be the highest policy; but when we come to regard the ultimate interest, not only of this State and this people, but also of the entire country, it seems to me indubitable that it is of much more importance that the work of the reconstruction of State governments in the recently rebellious territory should be well done, than that it should be speedily done. You will also allow me to say that it seems to me that one who has been on the ground, and has studied the tone and temper of the people from the very hour of the surrender, has had a much better opportunity to decide upon what is necessary to be done than one who has had none of those opportunities, and who seems to have regarded the question of restoring the statal relations as a move in a political game. As you say, I was opposed to this plan of Reconstruction. I regarded then, as I still do, as eminently hazardous in its character, very imperfect in its provisions, and lacking all the elements of cautious, deliberate, and far-seeing statesmanship. My objections to it were based upon the following considerations: —
1. The true object and purpose of Reconstruction should be (1) to secure the nation in the future from the perils of civil war, especially a war based upon the same underlying principles and causes as the one just concluded; (2) to secure a development homogeneous with that of the North, so as to render the country what it has never been heretofore, — a nation. As an essential element of this, the bestowal of equal civil and political rights upon all men, without regard to previous rank or station, becomes imperative. It seems to be the Reconstruction Acts have made this postulate of greater importance than the result to which it is auxiliary.
2. I do not think the passions evoked by that struggle, based as it was upon a radical difference of development, and the ill-concealed hostility of many generations, can by any means be put out of sight in such a movement. I do not believe that those who have looked into each other's faces by the lurid light of battle are the fittest persons to devise and execute such rehabilitation, nor do I believe that a lately subject-race is likely to prove an emollient or a neutralizing element in this peaceful adjustment.
3. From a party stand-point, you will allow me to say that I do not think that a party composed of the elements which must constitute the bulk of our party in the South under the present plan of Reconstruction can ever be permanently successful. At least two-thirds of it must not only be poor and ignorant, but also inexperienced and despised. They are just freed from servitude; and the badge of that servitude, the leprosy of slavery, still clings to them. Politically they are unclean; and the contamination of their association will drive away from us the bulk of the brain, character, and experience which has hitherto ruled these States, and through them the nation. Not only this, but thousands of those who went with us in the late election will fall away when they find themselves and their families focused in the eye of public scorn and ridicule. You wise men who concocted these measures do not seem to have comprehended the fact that the brain and heart of the South — the pulpit, the bar, and the planters; a vast proportion of its best men, and almost every one of its women — cast in their lot with the late Confederacy with all the self-abandonment and devotion of a people who fought for what they believed to be right. You do not realize that this feeling was intensified a thousand-fold by a prolonged and desperate struggle, and final defeat. You do not seem to appreciate the fact, which all history teaches, that there is no feeling in the human breast more blind and desperate in its manifestations, or so intense and ineradicable in its nature, as the bitter scorn of a long dominant race for one they have held in bondage. You deem this feeling insensate hate. You could not make a greater mistake. Hate is a sentiment mild and trivial in comparison with it. This embraces no element of individual or personal dislike, but is simply utter and thorough disgust and scorn for the race, — except in what they consider its proper place, — a feeling more fatal to any thing like democratic recognition of their rights as citizens than the most undying hate could be. A party builded upon ignorance, inexperience, and poverty, and mainly composed of a ra
ce of pariahs, who are marked and distinguished by their color, can not stand against intelligence, wealth, the pride of a conquered nation, and a race-prejudice whose intensity laughs to shame the exclusive haughtiness of the Brahmins.
I know your answer to these views: I have heard it a thousand times. But it is builded upon the sand. The very idea is an outgrowth of what we call our Northern development, and sometimes arrogantly style "American civilization." It is not true even of that, however, and would not be true of the North, ceteris paribus. You say that the interest of the Southern leading classes will compel them to accept and carry out in good faith your reconstructionary idea. You can not find in all history an instance in which the collective advantage of a people has ever yet counterbalanced their prejudices, until at least one generation had grown up under the new phase which conquest had imposed on their affairs. It is useless to attempt to cite examples, for there is not one exception in all history. Individuals may come over, either from conviction of the general good, or for personal advantage, or from both these motives; but races, nations, and classes must be born again, must see another generation, before that result is ever obtained. Mark the dispersion of the Tories of our Revolution as an instance, and think how few of those who remained ever ceased to execrate the nation of which they were unwillingly components.
But, you say, it is needless to consider these questions now; and that I admit, except as it becomes necessary to explain my position. After mature deliberation, I concluded that I could not put myself in opposition to those measures when submitted to the vote of the people here, because the only opposition there was, was based solely upon hostility to the government for which I had fought. It was the spirit of the Rebellion revived. I could not ally myself with this. I was forced to take these measures, and aid in the attempt to make them subserve the purpose of rehabilitation as nearly as possible. This accounts for my opposition to your view. The Rebellion was not the mere incident of an accident: it was the culmination of a long smoldering antagonism, — a divergence of thought and sentiment which was radical and irreconcilable: it was a conflict between two divergent civilizations, and those civilizations had left their marks upon the laws of each section.