“Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and inseparable!”
- Senator Daniel Webster, 1830
“I implore, as the best blessing which Heaven can bestow upon me upon earth, that if the direful and sad event of the dissolution of the Union shall happen, I may not survive to behold the sad and heart-rending spectacle.”
- Senator Henry Clay, 1850
“I have…done my duty in expressing my opinions…on this solemn occasion. In doing so, I have been governed by the motives which have governed me in all the stages of the agitation of the slavery question since its commencement. I have exerted myself, during the whole period, to arrest it, with the intention of saving the Union, if it could be done; and if it could not, to save the section where it has pleased Providence to cast my lost, and which I sincerely believe has justice and the Constitution on its side.”
- Senator John C. Calhoun, 1850
In their times, Daniel Webster, Henry Clay, and John C. Calhoun were titans. They towered over American politics from the early days of the Republic to the last decade before the Civil War. Today, they are mostly forgotten. Partially this is due to the fact that none of the three achieved their ultimate goal of the White House. But it is also a function of their decisive failure. Despite their efforts, despite their attempts to help the nation navigate through a war with its own soul, all came to naught when the cannon fired on Sumter.
Webster, known as the Great Orator, was a famed lawyer and Supreme Court advocate, a member of the House of Representatives, a Senator, and a Secretary of State. Along with being an opportunistic politician, he gave voice to the United States as a single nation, rather than a collection of loosely-aligned states.
Clay, the architect of the “American System,” known as the Great Compromiser, was also a member of the House of Representatives, a Senator, and a Secretary of State. Over the years, he crafted a number of deals meant to keep the several states together, even as they threatened to fracture over the question of slavery.
Calhoun, known as the Great Asshole (just kidding), served in many roles, including as member of the House of Representatives, Senator, Secretary of War, Secretary of State, and Vice President. He began as a strong nationalist, but slid into a bitter sectionalism, warning of secession and disunion. He also happened to be a proud white supremacist, who scoffed at the Founders’ early discomfort with liberty’s coexistence with slavery, and propounded the notion that the enslavement of black human beings was a “positive good.”
These three men, known as the Great Triumvirate (“great” being the favored adjective of the times), are the subjects of H.W. Brands’ somewhat-superficial though undeniably entertaining Heirs of the Founders.
Brands is one of my favorite historians. I have loved his big, brick-sized presidential biographies, especially his take on Franklin D. Roosevelt. While I have been less-enamored of his efforts at more panoramic histories, Brands has consistently displayed clear writing, concise judgments, and a certain ease with the historical record. He tends to make his points with subtlety, often presenting the evidence without much in the way of commentary.
The trouble with Heirs of the Founders is of the best kind. It is not a question of quality, but of quantity. In short, this is too short. Each member of the Great Triumvirate could support his own lengthy biography. Add to this all the colorful supporting characters – Andrew Jackson, John Quincy Adams, etc. – and the stage starts to get crowded. Then you have the huge swath of time that Brands attempts to cover, from the War of 1812 to the Compromise of 1850. Quite a few things happened in those years, including the Missouri Compromise, the Nullification Crisis, the fight over the Bank of the United States, and the Mexican-American War. Again, many of these particular incidents can – and have – been the focus of weighty tomes. Nevertheless, Brands attempts to swallow this massive chunk of history, and then digest it into just 370 pages of text. The result is a book that just scratches the surface.
If I ran the world, or at least Doubleday, I probably would have encouraged Brands to either tighten his focus or expand his page limits. Of course, I do not run the world, or Doubleday; frankly, I do not even get to run my own household. So, I am left to deal with Heirs of the Founders as it is, not how I wished it to be.
To that end, Heirs of the Founders works best when Brands’ narrative coalesces around a single event. For instance, I really liked his handling of the Nullification Crisis, which on one level is an arcane dispute over tariffs, but on another level served as a prelude to South Carolina’s national (and very public!) divorce in December 1860.
Though I am familiar with the territory that Brands covers, I enjoyed how he filtered things through the experiences – and words – of Webster, Clay, and Calhoun. To a large extent, he relies on these three men to tell their own tales, excerpting lengthy passages of their speeches and correspondence. Overall, this is a good thing, as Webster and Clay were two of the most accomplished communicators in American political history. Still, I would have appreciated Brands interjecting himself a bit more, just to get his opinion on things. I also wish he had taken more care in developing a timeline of events. Webster, Clay, and Calhoun all switched jobs a lot, and it was sometimes hard to keep track of each man’s current role at any given time.
Heirs of the Founders reads very quickly. Even though it tackles some of the thorniest questions imaginable – namely, slavery – Brands maintains a brisk pace by hitting the high points and moving on. For example, readers afraid of drowning in the bog of Nicholas Biddle and the death-struggle over the Bank of the United States can rest assured that Brands presents a high-level view. Of course, those of you looking for a deeper dive into this and other issues will have to look elsewhere. This is a popular history, through and through, even if it’s a bit more esoteric than most.
Daniel Webster, Henry Clay, and John C. Calhoun emerged from a long shadow created by some of the loftiest personages in American history, including George Washington and Thomas Jefferson. They were, in my humble opinion, not the equal of the original Founders, especially not Washington or Jefferson. At the same time, though, they had to face a task just as difficult, namely, to fix the insoluble problems that the Founders kicked down the road.
Their attempts to hold the Union together failed mightily, as we all know, all the bartering and dickering and duct-tape-and-chewing-gum compromises collapsing into a calamitous civil war. Thus, it is hard to define their legacy, and Brands does not even try. For me, I incline towards excising Calhoun from this three-man posse, as his obsession with protecting white prerogatives was not only noxious but self-defeating for the south he claimed to love. Webster and Clay deserve at least an attaboy, even if they failed to recognize that the issue of human bondage could not be negotiated forever.
If we are being mystical, however, we might go so far as to say that Webster and Clay worked to hold the Union together just long enough for “the rough man from Illinois” to step out upon history’s stage.