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To paraphrase Henry Clay, the purpose of the Whig Party was
to rescue liberty from an overreaching executive [that being Andrew Jackson]. Throughout
the party’s relatively short and tumultuous history, many Whigs cherished that
mission—I think in the end the bulk must have been in the South or else it
clearly indicates the Republicans didn’t spring from the Whig party, because if
there was ever an overreaching executive, Lincoln was one, but he was not the
first. Truth is the Whig party was an incongruous political entity from the
git-go and the Republicans most assuredly did spring from the Whig Party; in
fact, for what my two cents is worth, their trek from Federalist to Lincoln’s
Republicans is as clear as spring water. But that path the Federalists carved
through the National Republicans and later the Whigs represents only one Whig faction. If not for its enmity to Andrew Jackson, the Whigs probably would
have never come into being. Without a doubt, the National Republican and Old
Republican factions comprising the Jeffersonians as of the early 1830s would
have split, but I’m not qualified to guess what would have happened to the state-rights group within the
Old Republicans, those
strict-constructionists who split with Jackson during the nullification crisis and ultimately joined the Whigs. Tracing
this latter group is the purpose of this series. On that note, and for
the purpose of continuity, I want to rehash some history that many of you
probably already know. For that, I apologize, but I think it’s necessary in
order for the reader to follow my rationale.
Let’s go back to the beginning, to John Adams and the
Federalist Party, proponents of Alexander Hamilton’s diversified national
economy in which government played an important role in shaping and supporting
the private interests of those promoting a national direction. The fruits of that party's policies, nominally,
were to benefit all, but this was especially true for those who owned the
industries. This concept of a government-supported economy [or more cynically,
government manipulated by private interests] was opposed by Thomas Jefferson’s Old
Republicans who believed the only way individual liberty was to persevere was
through republican institutions that put the general good before private
interests. It was the responsibility of office holders to protect said liberty
from both public (government) and private interests (banks and industry). This
very basic argument was fundamental to what kind of nation the United States
would become.
By the time Henry Clay, founder and guiding light of the
Whig Party, was a young man, those left of the Founding generation had faded
from the limelight. Enabled by Hamilton’s coup with his “implied powers”
argument, which secured the United States its First National Bank, the new
generation was toying with the founding wisdom—bending the Constitution’s words
to shape self-aggrandizing agendas. Arguments ensued as to what constituted the
common good and general welfare and how much could government interfere before
it was encroaching on the rights of the states and those of private citizens. Socially, there was a divide between
materialism and the speculative market of the economic nationalists, homed
primarily in the Northeast, and the simplistic agrarian/artisan economies of
the regular folks, more popular among people of the South and West. The
Federalists had pretty much done themselves in with their seditious activities
during the War of 1812 and many of their number forsook the floundering party
and found a home with the National Republican faction (recall, the kinder gentler
Madisonian nationalists) of the
Jeffersonians. John Quincy Adams of Massachusetts was one such “émigré.”
Flush with the victory of the War of 1812, young
Jeffersonians such as James Monroe, Henry Clay, and John C. Calhoun evolved
into ardent nationalists who believed in a strong national government and the
prospects (albeit in some cases “qualified”) of a government-supported economy in
tandem with “necessary” internal improvements. Further, civic duty was by then
being equated favorably to economic self-interest—after all, if a public
policy, reputed to be favorable to all, happened to ease the promoter’s wants, what
did it hurt? This was “common good,” at its best. As of the boon times of 1817,
John Quincy Adams, James Monroe, John C. Calhoun, and, of course, Henry Clay and
the rest of the National Republicans dominated the party, and the Old
Jeffersonians chaffed over the direction nationalism and speculation in a boon
economy were leading the nation.
In 1819, the speculation resulted in an economic downturn, which
the Midwest and the Southeast blamed on the Bank of the United States and the
eastern elite whom Clay served. For years after, this crisis flamed
Congressional debates over the tariff, internal improvements, and land policy.
From the yeoman’s point of view, the cause of the crisis was the banking
policies of the elite, who suspended species payments in response to the crisis
then continued merrily on their way, unaffected by an economy that forced many
a common man off his land and out of his home.
Then in 1824 came the Missouri Compromise, the culmination
of a two-year struggle within the Jeffersonian ranks to prevent Missouri’s
entering the Union as a slave state. The divide had been between the National
Republicans led by the New England mercantilists and the Old Republicans
comprised of strict constructionists and state righters. The Old Republicans
claimed the “party” had, to its shame, become involved in a nationalist program
of aggrandizing national power onto itself. If New England interests could
interfere in a state yet to enter the Union, then eventually it would acquire
the power to interfere in existing states. The time had come, they said, to
rededicate the party to state rights and strict construction. Thus the Panic of
1819, and the obvious sectional divide over economic interests,
empowered the Old Republicans and shifted the balance of power away from the
National Republicans.
That same year (1824), five men vied for the presidency.
John C. Calhoun, Secretary of War under Monroe, dropped out of the competition,
opting instead for the Vice Presidency. This left four:
John Quincy Adams, son of founder John Adams of
Massachusetts and the darling of the New England set and a strong proponent of
national legislation to promote economic development.
Henry Clay of Kentucky who, in the eyes of the North, was a
Southern slave-holder with interests vested in the South. Further, Northerners
believed he conceded too much to the South in the Missouri compromise. To the
South, he was an opponent of strict construction and to the West, an agent of
the hated national bank that had created the economic havoc that had ruined so
many good men. To both the West and the South he was an opponent to Jackson’s
Indian wars and removals.
William H. Crawford of Georgia, Secretary of the Treasury under
Madison and Monroe and the candidate of the Old Republicans’ state-rights wing.
But Crawford had been nominated by congressional caucus, a tool by then
regarded as anti–republican (his being chosen by politicians rather than the
people). Their principled choice tarnished by the circumstances of his
nomination, the state-rights constituency turned to the fourth contender, the
populist Andrew Jackson. As a new senator, Jackson had voted for the protective
tariff and internal improvements, but was nevertheless the foe of the haughty
Northeast and the corruption eating away at the Republic.
Jackson won the plurality of both the popular and electoral elections.
Adams came in second. Crawford’s popularity was confined primarily to parts of
the established South (Virginia and his native Georgia). Clay carried only his
home state of Kentucky and neighboring Ohio.
With no one candidate getting a majority of the electoral vote, the
contest went to the House, where Clay, utilizing his formidable influence,
proved the difference in Adams’ victory over Jackson. This computed to a
victory for the New England elite. Once in the executive mansion, Adams made
Clay his Secretary of State, and the Jackson camp cried “foul.” To the common
man in the South and in the West, Jackson was a fundamental Republican. John
Quincy Adams was a snobbish New England elitist. The tariff and the sweeping
national agenda under the “general welfare” clause offended those who believed
in state rights and strict construction. Adams was openly hostile to slavery [or is that euphemistic for being hostile to slave owners?],
and in the West, he failed to take what voters there felt to be appropriate
action against the Indians. In Clay’s defense, he had always supported the
national-economy camp and opposed Jackson on Indian issues.
Nevertheless, the election of Adams was perceived to be a
rejection of the popular will and has been passed down through history as the Corrupt
Bargain. It haunted Clay for the rest of his career, ended Adams’ as soon as
his “misbegotten” term was up, and four years later sent the martyred Jackson
to the White House with enough popular support (reflected in the victories of
his constituents in the Congress and the state houses), to allow his subsequent abuse
of executive office to threaten the Republic.
At this point, I want to reference Daniel Webster of Massachusetts, the heretofore
missing link to what would evolve into the Whig Party. Webster had been a young
Federalist at the time of that party’s demise. In 1824, he backed John Quincy
Adams’ administration. In the short term, he would flirt with the Jackson
administration, but in the end he settled on “Yankee Whiggery,” the Federalist
Party incognito.
So, by the next election in 1828, the National Republicans of
Adams and Clay were the minority faction within the Jeffersonian Party. Clay
believed it was the persona of Andrew Jackson, hero of New Orleans, man of the
people and enemy of the Indians that got him elected, not the common man’s
aversion to the National Republican’s economic nationalism and its leadership by
political elites. Thus, the Old Republicans evolved into the Jacksonian
Democrats. Jackson had cemented his hold on the Old Republican Party of Thomas
Jefferson with, supposedly, adherence to state rights and strict construction.
In reality, what gave him purchase was his general opposition to the political
elite. But here’s the problem with Jackson—he’d won the South and the West,
they’d put him in the White House, but once there, he curried favor with the
Northeast and the Midwest by supporting the tariff and internal improvement
programs, just as he had back in his senatorial days. I don’t think it was
politics; he didn’t like those elitists anymore than his constituents did. I
think he was a nationalist, and he believed in internal improvements to
strengthen the nation and, by default, the tariff that funded them. But that
policy spat in the face of those adherents to the Old Republican principles. Certainly,
he believed in a strong, “unquestioned” executive, and sorry folks, strict
constructionist that ain’t.
John C. Calhoun of South Carolina split with Jackson over
the tariff [yes, I know there were other things, but the tariff is what is
relevant here]. Despite his growing anti-Jackson stance, Calhoun did not end up
in the National Republican Party, the principles of which distanced him from it
as he evolved as a political theorist and a statesman. Even when Southerners
started to question Jackson on the nullification issue, the policies of the
monied elite generally discouraged Southerners from entering the National Republican Camp.
Similarly in the North, outside New England, the states showed little concern
for the national issues touted by the National Republicans and were offered
alternatives to the National Republican Party for venting their opposition to
Jackson. The National Republicans, focused as they were on national economic
issues [again, I interpret that to mean economic issues that affected them
personally], failed to recognize what mattered at the grass-roots level. This was
the era of the populist, pro-farmer Antimasons, who were against urban control
of rural areas and promoted the idea of political candidates coming from the
people, not professional politicians. They did not favor the National
Republicans who were well-grounded in the 18th century belief in a republicanism
practiced by the elite for the public good. The Antimason movement became very
large throughout the North. Whereas the National Republicans focused their
campaign on converting the “leadership” of the opposition to the National
Republican cause, believing the people would follow, the Jacksonian Democrats
and the Antimasons and other splinter groups, focused on converting the voters.
In time, the Jacksonian Democrats usurped the Antimason cause in the Northern
states.
[That’s an interesting thought on
smaller, intrastate parties. We need more of those today. The
people of a state should have legislatures and governors focused on them and
not vested in a national party from whom they take marching orders.]
But I digress.
In the early 1830’s the National Republicans were in sore need
of a “cause” large enough to counter the peoples’ grievances against a powerful
elite and its corruption—both inimical to republics. These are what caused the
voters to rally to and continue to stand behind Andrew Jackson. It would be Jackson
himself who filled the National Republican need. Calhoun’s interposition,
Biddle’s bank, and the birth of the Whig Party next time.
Thanks for reading,
Charlsie
