THE TWO PLATFORMS
It was the opprobrium of the Republican party in the Presidential campaign of 1860, that the Southern States were not, in any but a limited degree, represented in its ranks; and so it was called a sectional party. The Presidential campaign of 1864 is not less remarkable, on the other hand, because the party which now appropriates the honored name of Democratic seems to ignore the crime of rebellion on the part of those Southern States, and thus invites an even more obnoxious appellation. History will record with amazement, as among the strange phenomena of a war the most wicked of all the wicked wars with which ambition has desolated the earth (phenomena that will perplex men and women of loyal instincts and righteous common sense to the latest day), the resolutions of the Chicago Convention of 1864.
It is the purpose of this article to consider as dispassionately as may be, those Chicago resolutions, as well as the ones previously adopted at Baltimore; desiring to look at them both from the standpoint of a patriotism which loves the whole country as one indivisible nation—the gift of God, to be cherished as we cherish our homes and our altars.
A convention called of all those, without respect to former political affinities, who believed in an uncompromising prosecution of the war for the Union till the armed rebellion against its authority should be subdued and brought to terms, met at Baltimore on the 7th of June last, and nominated Abraham Lincoln, of Illinois, for reëlection as President, and Andrew Johnson, of Tennessee, for election as Vice-President. The convention, with exceeding good sense, and obedient to the just and patriotic impulses of the people, disregarded all party names of the past, and called itself simply a National Union Convention. Two months later, and on the 29th of August last, obedient to the call of Democratic committees, a convention met at Chicago, composed of men whose voices were for peace, and nominated for President General George B. McClellan, of New Jersey, and for Vice-President George H. Pendleton, of Ohio. This convention took the name of Democratic, indicating thereby not the idea of the equal rule of all the people, as the name imports, but the traditions and policies of those degenerate days before the war, when Democracy had strangely come to mean the rule of a few ambitious men. In other words, it ignored the crime of those men (who have sacrificed their country to their ambition), and assumed that the country could also overlook the crime. It supposed the people ready to strike hands with rebellion and elevate the authors of rebellion to power again.
Perhaps the difference between the two conventions may be concisely stated thus: The Chicago Convention was for peace first, and Union afterward; the Baltimore Convention for Union first, then peace. Let us see.
THE CHICAGO PLATFORM
We suppose that no one will think us wanting in fairness when we characterize the Chicago Platform as one of peace.4 If there is any reproach in the term, it surely is not the fault of those who take men to mean what they say.
Indeed, it is simply the truth to declare that the general impression on the first publication of it confirmed the view we have taken, and that even among the supporters of the convention there were many who proclaimed their confident expectation that General McClellan, if he should accept the nomination, would disregard the platform, and stake his chances on his own more warlike record. We will not stop to consider in this place whether that expectation has been fulfilled. It suffices for our present purpose to remind our readers that the great doctrine of the Democratic party of former days was expressed in the motto, 'Principles, not men;' and that the rigid discipline of the party has always required the nominee to be the mere representative of the platform—its other self, so to speak: as witness the case of Buchanan, who declared himself, following the approved formulas of his party, no longer James Buchanan, but the Cincinnati Platform. It ought also to be borne in mind, that General McClellan's letter of acceptance does not, in terms, repudiate the platform, and is not necessarily inconsistent with it.
The first one of the six resolutions that constitute the Chicago Platform, has the sound of true doctrine. 'Unswerving fidelity to the Union under the Constitution,' is the duty of every citizen, and has always been the proud war-cry of every party; and they who swerve from it are subject not simply to our individual censure, but to the sanction of our supreme law. The just complaint against this platform is, that, while thus proclaiming good doctrine, it overlooks the departure therefrom of a large portion of the people, misled by wicked men. When we look at the other resolutions, the first one seems all 'sound and fury, signifying nothing.'
Nor will we withhold what of approval may possibly be due, in strict justice, to the sixth and last resolution; although the approval can only be a limited one. No one can overlook the entire lack in that resolution of cordial sympathy with the sacred cause of nationality, to which the brave heroes of the war have given their lives and fortunes. It restricts itself to a simple recognition of the 'soldiery of our army,' as entitled to 'sympathy,' with a promise of 'protection' to them, 'in the event of our attaining power.' It ignores the navy, and passes by the gallant heroes who on sea and river have upheld the flag of our country with a lustre that pales not before the names of Paul Jones, and Perry, and Decatur. Moreover, the sympathy 'extended to the soldiery' is the sympathy not of the American people, but of 'the Democratic party.' Surely, this phrase was ill conceived. It has a touch of partisan exclusiveness that is sadly out of place. But the resolution is unpartisan and patriotic in another respect that deserves notice. It extends the 'sympathy of the Democratic party to the soldiery of our army,' without making any discrimination to the prejudice of the negro soldiers; and thus commits the 'Democratic party,' with honorable impartiality, to the 'care and protection' of all 'the brave soldiers of the Republic.'
With these criticisms upon the first and sixth resolutions, we proceed to record our total disapprobation of the remaining four. In all candor, we contend that those four resolutions are a surrender of the national honor, and a violation of the national faith. They are unworthy the old glory of the Democratic party. For what is the purport of them? Is it condemnation of a rebellion that has 'rent the land with civil feud, and drenched it in fraternal blood'? Is it to stimulate the heroism of those whose breasts are bared to the bullets of traitors in Virginia and Georgia, and who have 'borne aloft the flag and kept step to the music of the Union' these three years and a half in unwearied defence of the nation? Ah, no; they declare the war a 'failure'! The second resolution is the keynote of the platform, reciting 'that after four years (three years and a half) of failure to restore the Union by the experiment of war,… justice, humanity, liberty, and the public welfare demand that immediate efforts be made for a cessation of hostilities.' Upon this resolution there can be no better comment than the remembrance of Donelson and Pea Ridge, Pittsburg Landing and Vicksburg, Murfreesboro' and Chattanooga, Antictam and Gettysburg; not to speak of that splendid series of battles from the Wilderness to Petersburg, which at last has brought the rebel general to bay; nor of the glorious victories, since the Chicago Convention, at Mobile and Atlanta, and in the Shenandoah Valley. It can never be forgotten that on the fourth of July, 1863, Governor Seymour, in a public discourse at the Academy of Music, in New York, drew a deplorable picture of the straits to which the nation was at last reduced, with the enemy marching defiantly across the fertile fields of Pennsylvania, and men's hearts failing them for fear of danger, not alone to the political capital, Washington, but also to the financial capital, New York; and that, even while the words fell from the speaker's lips, that defiant enemy, already beaten, was rapidly retreating before the magnificent old Army of the Potomac at Gettysburg: while victorious Grant had already broken the left of the rebel line, and was celebrating the nation's anniversary in the triumph of Vicksburg. Even so, let it never be forgotten that the delegates who adopted this second resolution, so burdened with despair, had scarcely reached their homes, ere the stronghold of the Southern Confederacy, which, ever since the war was begun, has been boastfully proclaimed the key of its military lines, and as impregnable as Gibraltar, fell before the unconquerable progress of the armies of the West, under General Sherman; and thus the rebel centre, as well as left, had been broken, and only the rebel right, at Richmond, yet remains to the Southern army.
In further answer to the discouraging language of this resolution, let us offset the following terse and comprehensive statement of what has been accomplished in the course of the nation's 'experiment of war.' It is copied from The Evening Post of a recent date, and the writer supposes the soldiers to speak thus:
'We have not failed; on the contrary, we have fought bravely and conquered splendidly. In proof of our words we can point to such trophies as few wars can equal and none surpass. Besides defending with unusual vigilance and completeness two thousand miles of frontier, in three years we have taken from the enemies of the Union, by valor and generalship, thirty complete and thoroughly furnished fortresses; we have captured over two thousand cannon; we have reconquered and now hold nearly four thousand miles of navigable river courses; we have taken ten of the enemy's principal cities, three of them capitals of States; in thirty days last summer we captured sixty thousand prisoners; we have penetrated more than three hundred miles into the territory claimed by the enemy; we have cut that territory into strips, leaving his armies without effectual communication with each other; the main operations and interests of the war, which were lately concentrated about Baltimore, Paducah, and St. Louis, have been transferred, by our steady and constant advance, to the narrow limits of the seaboard Slave States; we hold every harbor but one, of a coast six thousand miles long. And whatever we have taken we hold; we have never turned back, or given up that which we once fairly possessed.'
It has, however, been fittingly reserved for the chief of the rebellion himself to give the full and complete answer to this dishonorable complaint of failure. Not a month after the meeting of the Chicago Convention, and on the 23d of September last, Jeff. Davis uttered these words, in a public speech, at Macon, Geo.: 'You have not many men between eighteen and forty-five left.... Two-thirds of our men are absent, some sick, some wounded, but most of them absent without leave. … In Virginia the disparity of numbers is just an great as it is in Georgia.'
But let it be granted that after these three years and a half of war, and having accomplished such unquestionably important results, the Union is not yet restored, what then? Is that a reason for giving up now? Our fathers fought the British seven years without flinching; and under the indomitable leader God had given them, they would have fought seven years longer with equal determination. Are we less determined than they were? Are we such degenerate sons that we are willing to give up the legacy they left us, at half its original cost? There is just the same reason that we should yield the contest now as there was in 1861 that we should yield it then; neither more nor less. The integrity of the nation, the perpetuity of our institutions, the safety, honor, and welfare of the people are still at stake.
If it is true that 'justice, humanity, liberty, and the public welfare demand that immediate efforts be made for a cessation of hostilities,' then those same holy principles were assailed when the war was begun. If the United States Government was the assailant, it did wrong, and has continued doing wrong ever since; and not a century of such wrong-doing can make the war just and right on our part. This brings us face to face with the question, Who began the war? Who, in this contest, has assailed the principles of 'justice, humanity, and liberty'? Who has attacked the 'public welfare'? Has it been the United States Government? Let us revert to the occasion of the war. Confining ourselves to what all parties admit—even the rebels themselves—the immediate occasion of the war was the election of a President distasteful, for whatever cause, to the Southern leaders. Abraham Lincoln was elected President of the United States under the organic law of the nation, in strict accordance with all its modes and requirements, and none ever disputed the fairness of the election. That organic law is the Constitution, to which the South is bound equally with the North. The men of the Chicago Convention, who have recalled to our minds its high supremacy, neglected to express their opinion of those who, immediately on the election of President Lincoln, contemptuously spurned it, and have sought these three years and a half to overthrow it and destroy the Union which it upholds.
Every sentiment of 'justice' was outraged when wicked sedition thus without cause reared its head against the covenant of the nation. Every instinct of 'humanity' was stifled by the traitors who surrounded a gallant garrison of seventy men with a force of ten thousand, and opened fire on the heroes who stood by the flag that had been the glory and defence of both for more than half a century. 'Liberty,' in all its blessed relations of home, and country, and religion, was struck at when blind ambition thus set at defiance the power of the Union, to which liberty owes its life on this continent, and its hopes throughout the world. The constitutional liberty that is the glory of our civilization, the liberty regulated by law that is the pride of our institutions, was attacked by those who at Montgomery fiercely defied the Constitution and laws. And what shall we say of the constitution which these traitors to their country and humanity affected to establish, instead of that, the heritage of their and our Washington and his compeers, which had made our country powerful among nations, and blessed it with equal laws and equal protection to all? What shall we say of the constitution that ordained slavery as the corner stone of a new confederacy, to teach mankind the folly of Christian civilization, and bring back the 'statelier Eden' of the dark ages? To which party in this terrible strife of brothers does 'liberty' look for protection to-day? Which of the two armies of brothers now arrayed against each other on the plains of Virginia and Georgia, is fighting for the principle of order, which is the 'public welfare'? Let these questions be answered, and then it will appear how much reason there is in the declaration that 'liberty, justice, humanity, and the public welfare' demand the 'cessation of hostilities.' On the contrary, these very principles demand that the war be continued without abatement till they are guaranteed safe residence and sure protection under the United States Constitution.
But, it is objected, you ignore the basis on which, this 'cessation of hostilities' is proposed, namely, 'the Federal Union of the States.' There is a word to be said in reference to this clause which will illustrate the high-toned patriotism of some of the convention which adopted it. There was an alteration in the wording of the resolution, and some of the papers printed it accordingly, 'the basis of the Federal States.' The editor of the New York Freeman's Journal (a paper which zealously supports the Chicago platform and all peace measures, and is called Democratic), being requested to explain which version was correct, said, in a late issue of his journal, that in the original draft of the resolution 'it was not the bold doctrine of Federal States;' it was the delusion and snare of a Federal 'Union,' and that therefore the latter must be taken as the correct version.
Replying to the above objection, we say that we neither ignore this 'delusion and snare' of the Federal Union as the basis of the proposed peace, nor those other words in the fourth resolution, 'that the aim and object of the Democratic party is to preserve the Federal Union and the rights of the States unimpaired.' The question is, how possibly to reconcile the demand for an immediate 'cessation of hostilities' with this great anxiety to preserve the Federal Union? For the Federal Union can only be preserved by subduing the armed rebellion that menaces it. Anything short of the absolute and thorough defeat of the Southern armies must lower the dignity of the nation, and weaken and subvert the foundations of the Union. Thus far, by the grace of God and our right arm, the Constitution and Union are preserved, and so long as they 'still stand strong,' the basis of settlement remains; and whenever the rebels are tired of trying their strength against them, the nation stands ready to welcome them back, as penitent prodigals. It is not we who are unreconciled to them: it is they who refuse to be reconciled to us. If the illustration offend no weaker brother, we may say that, like the ever-surrounding love of God, the Federal Union is still watching over the rebels, and is only waiting the first symptom of their returning conscience to run and fall on their necks and kiss them, and bring them in peace to the home they so foolishly left. They are striving to destroy the Constitution and the Union. We oppose them. Let us consider what, under these circumstances, 'a cessation of hostilities' means.
In the first place, how are hostilities to cease, unless the power that controls the Southern armies so wills it? That power is a military despotism. It has usurped all other power within the limits of the rebellion, and the United States Government is seeking to overthrow it, in order that the Constitution may be restored, in all its benignity, to the people of the South, whom the usurpation has deprived of it. Is it, then, for the United States Government to propose to the authors of this usurpation to cease seeking its total overthrow? The question recurs, moreover, what 'cessation' have we to propose? It is for them to offer to yield: they are the aggressors, threatening the life of the nation. Is any among us so base he would have peace with dishonor? A nation cannot submit to be dishonored before the world—for its honor is its life. Yet what sort of peace would that be which we should thus begin by seeking? It is far from pertinent to cite, as some have done, the example of Napoleon on this point: even supposing that civil war were, in respect of this thing, the same as war between independent nations. For Napoleon never proposed suspensions of hostilities except in his own extremity, and as a convenient means to extricate himself from difficulties which he had the art of concealing from his adversaries. Are we in extremity, that this example of Napoleon should be suggested in support of the Chicago platform?
As to how our overtures might be received at Richmond, we are no longer left any excuse for doubting. The oft-repeated assurances of all who have fled from the rebel tyranny since the war was begun, are, at length, confirmed by the authoritative declaration of Jeff. Davis himself. It is a declaration promulgated not only by Colonel Jaquess and Mr. Gilmore, in the account given by the latter of their recent visit to Richmond, but also by Mr. Benjamin, the rebel Secretary of State, in a circular letter written for the purpose of giving the rebel account of that visit. We are told by the rebel chief himself, that as preliminary to any negotiations, the independence of the Southern Confederacy must be first acknowledged. Why does not the Chicago platform suggest a way of avoiding this difficulty? Why has it left the country in uncertainty on a question so vital?
But, in the second place, suppose it were possible to have a 'cessation of hostilities' without this preliminary acknowledgment of the Confederate independence, and that the war might be at an absolute stand still for a definite season, are we fully aware of the risks attending this measure? For the Chicago platform has left them out of sight. 'A cessation of hostilities' is an armistice; and there is no such thing known in the authorities on international law, or in history, as 'a cessation of hostilities' distinct from an armistice. In defining the incidents of war, Wheaton speaks of a 'suspension of hostilities by means of a truce, or armistice,' and uses the three terms interchangeably. In other words, whatever 'cessation (or suspension, as it is called in the books) of hostilities,' there may occur between the parties to a war, it is known among men and in history as an armistice, which is also the technical term for it. There would be no need to enlarge upon this point, if it had not been made already the basis of fallacious appeals to popular ignorance. Now, the incidents of an armistice are well defined, giving to both parties, besides the advantage of time to rest, full liberty to repair damages and make up losses of men and material; and it is perfect folly, or worse, to talk of 'a cessation of hostilities' without giving to the rebels these important advantages. But the controlling consideration in reference to this whole thing, and which every person ought to ponder carefully, is the effect of the proposed 'cessation of hostilities' upon our neutral neighbors. On this point the doctrine of international law is thus stated by the distinguished French writer, Hautefeuille, 'the eminent advocate of neutral rights,' as he is justly called by the American editor of Wheaton, and whose works on neutral relations are always cited with respect, and recognized as authority.
'The duties imposed on neutrals by the state of war belong essentially to the state of war itself. From the moment it ceases, for whatever cause, even temporarily, the duties of neutrals likewise cease; as to them, peace is completely restored during the suspension of arms. They resume then all the rights which had been modified by the war, and can exercise them in their full extent during the whole time fixed for the duration of the truce, if this time has been limited by the agreement; and until the resumption of hostilities has been officially announced to them, if it has not been limited.'5
Can language be clearer? It will not do to treat it lightly. It is a statement of what international law is on this point from an authority; and the reasons for the doctrine are clear and incontrovertible. Neutrality depends on the fact of war; when, for any cause, that fact no longer exists, neutrality ceases likewise, of course. It is only the application of a well-known maxim of law, that when the reason of a rule fails, the rule itself fails. Let there be 'a cessation of hostilities,' then, as proposed in the Chicago platform, and how long would it be before rebel ships of war from English ports would be ready to desolate our coast, destroy our shipping, raise the blockade, and give to the rebellion the aid and sustenance it must have ere long or perish?
There is still another difficulty in the way of suspending hostilities, which it is well for us not to ignore. If we propose to the rebels 'a cessation of hostilities,' does not the question immediately become one of negotiation between separate Governments? Have we not in that moment, and in that thing, then recognized the Southern Confederacy as a separate and independent Power? For does not 'a cessation of hostilities' presuppose parties of equal sovereignty on both sides? Indeed, The London Times of a recent date already declares that 'it would concede to the South a position of equality.' Such a concession cannot, for a moment, be thought of. For the very question at issue is our constitutional supremacy. When that is yielded, all is yielded. The exchanging of prisoners, and the numerous like questions that perpetually arise in the progress of war, are matters of common humanity, that depend upon their own law. They are totally independent of the questions at issue between the parties belligerent; and our dealings with the South, in reference to such matters, cannot be construed into a recognition of its separate independence. If we consent to treat with the rebel chiefs, however, in regard to the very question involved in the war, how can we longer compel the non-interference of foreign Powers? If we acknowledge the authority of Jeff. Davis to speak for the Southern people, we cannot then take offence if other nations acknowledge him as the representative and head of a new Government.
Such and so great are the consequences of a 'cessation of hostilities,' which the Chicago platform proposes to the serious consideration of the American people.
It thus appears how irreconcilable are the expressions in that platform in regard to the preservation of the Federal Union, with the clearly announced determination to propose immediately 'a cessation of hostilities.' They are vague generalities, and can have no other purpose than to catch the popular ear so as more effectually to deceive the popular heart. That this is not a harsh judgment, consider how the four resolutions that treat of the war all hinge upon the proposition to suspend hostilities. For they concern themselves with what? With condemnation of the rebellion, its authors, and objects, suggesting, at the same time, how more effectually to bring upon it its righteous retribution? Far from it. Indeed, a stranger to all that has passed in our country during the last three years, would suppose, from a study of these resolutions, that the United States Government had usurped the power of a despotism, and that all who are not arrayed in open rebellion, against its authority were groaning under the yoke of a tyrant. The platform throughout ignores the one supreme question that is before the people to-day. That one question is, Shall we maintain the integrity of the nation? It is vain to introduce other issues; they must abide the event of arms. The old maxim that in the midst of war the laws are silent, is not to be condemned. For our laws are of no avail, the nation cannot enforce them, so long as armed rebellion threatens its existence. With the nation, all its laws, principles, vital forces, are equally menaced and imperilled; and they are, in virtue of that very fact, in abeyance, in order that they may be saved. It is said that the Constitution is not suspended because of rebellion, and this is the basis of much declamation, both in the Chicago platform and elsewhere, against the exercise of extraordinary powers on the part of the President. But the Constitution authorizes the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus, that great writ of right which is the bulwark of our Anglo-Saxon liberty, 'when in cases of rebellion or invasion the public safety may require it;' and confers upon Congress full power to legislate for the defence of the nation, making it then the duty of the President to 'take care that the laws be faithfully executed.' What more is needed as a warrant for extraordinary power? The Chicago Convention has appealed to the Constitution, and in that has done wisely. But what is the Constitution? It is the organic law of the nation. In virtue of it the nation exists, and by the supreme warrant of it the nation maintains its existence against parricidal treason. Under the Constitution all power is granted to the public authorities to quell insurrection; and the grant of a power, by one of the first principles of law, as also of common sense, implies every essential incident to make the grant effectual.
In support of these views it is pertinent to cite the authority of an approved text writer on municipal law, whose book has appeared since they were first written, and who has elaborately investigated the points involved. The result of his patient and thorough study is stated in these propositions:
'That no civil power resides in any department of the Government to interfere with the fundamental, personal rights of life, liberty, and property, guaranteed by the Constitution; that a warlike power is given by the Constitution to the President temporarily to disregard these rights by means of the martial law; that under the sanction of this species of law, the President and his subordinate military officers may, within reasonable limits, suspend the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus, cause arrests to be made, trials and condemnations to be had, and punishments to be inflicted, in methods unknown to the civil procedure, but are responsible for an abuse of the power; and that the martial law, as a necessary adjunct of military movements, may be enforced in time of invasion or rebellion, wherever the influence and effect of these movements directly extends.'6
These conclusions of the law are worthy to be considered carefully in view of the solemn resolutions of the Chicago platform, that 'military necessity' and the 'war power' are 'mere pretences' to override the Constitution.
It remains to say, with reference to the third and fifth resolutions of this platform, that they are chargeable with an equal and common ignorance: the third, in ignoring the necessity of the presence of the military at the elections referred to, in order that disloyalty and treason might not openly defy the authority of the nation; the fifth, in ignoring two things, first, the monstrous baseness of the rebel treatment of our prisoners, who have been starved alive, with a refinement of cruelty reserved for this Christian age, and practised only by the Christian chivalry of the South; and secondly, the rebel refusal to exchange prisoners man for man; the resolution seeking, moreover, to charge upon the United States Government the fault of both these rebel violations of humanity. It may be asked, moreover, in further reference to the third resolution, if the convention really meant to pledge itself to revolution;7 and why, if the President, as chief of 'the military authority of the United States,' should be guilty of any abuses, the proper remedy is not by impeachment, as provided in the Constitution? The language of this resolution is gravely suggestive, and cannot be too closely criticised. It seems to shadow forth some dark design, which surely is in harmony with the whole tone of hostility to our Government that pervades the platform. Taken, moreover, in connection with the fact that the Chicago Convention declared itself a permanent body, subject to the call of the chairman, this criticism does not seem unreasonable; for permanent conventions have generally been the beginning of revolution.