cannon and the gallows. Mr. Rhett, then Mr. Barnwell
Smith, said, in the debates in the Convention on the
proposition to accept the Tariff Compromise of 1833,
that he hated the star-spangled banner; and unquestionably
he expressed the feelings of many of his contemporaries,
who deemed submission prudent, but who were consoled
by the reflection that slavery would afford them a
far better means for breaking up the Union than it
was possible to get through the existence of any tariff,
no matter how protective it might be. All the
great leaders of the first Secession school had passed
away from the earth, when Rhett “still lived”
to see the flag he hated pulled down before the fire
that was poured upon Fort Sumter from Carolina’s
batteries worked by the hands of Carolinians.
Calhoun, Hamilton, McDuffie, Hayne, Trumbull, Cooper,
Harper, Preston, and others, men of the first intellectual
rank in America, had departed; but Rhett survived
to see what they had labored to effect, and what they
would have effected, had they not encountered one
of those iron spirits to whom is sometimes intrusted
the government of nations, and who are of more value
to nations than gold and fleets and armies. All
that we have lately seen done, and more, would have
been done thirty years since, had any other man than
Andrew Jackson been at that time President of the
United States. There was much cant in those days
about “the one-man power,” because President
Jackson saw fit to make use of the Constitutional
qualified veto-power to express his opposition to
certain measures adopted by Congress; but the best
exhibition of “the one-man power” that
the country ever saw, then or before or since, was
when the same magistrate crushed Nullification, maintained
the Union, and secured the nation’s peace for
more than a quarter of a century. We never knew
what a great man Jackson was, until the country was
cursed by Buchanan’s occupation of the same chair
that Jackson had filled,—a chair that he
was unworthy to dust,—and by his cowardice
and treachery which made civil war inevitable.
One man, at the close of 1860, could have done more
than has yet been accomplished by the million of men
who have been called to arms because no such man was
then in the nation’s service. The “one
hour of Dundee” was not more wanting to the
Stuarts than the one month of Jackson was wanting to
us but two years ago.
The powerful teaching of the Nullifiers was successful. The South, which assumed to be the exclusive seat of American nationality, while the North was declared given up to sectionalism, with no other lights on its path than “blue lights,” became the South so devoted to slavery that it could see nothing else in the country. Old Union men of 1832 became Secessionists, though Nullification, the milder thing of the two, had been too much for them to endure. They not only endured the more hideous evil, but they embraced it. Between 1832 and 1860 a change had been wrought such as twice that time could not have