Politicians of all political stripes like to couch their opinions and policy proposals in terms of: “the American people want to see this, or desire that.” This is rubbish, of course. In reality, it is merely a subset of Americans who desire whatever the politician is extolling. We recently saw polls indicating that before his dropping out of the election, nearly 80% of the American people thought Joe Biden was too old to run. Which makes one wonder what the other 20% were thinking. Yet there is power in citing our nation as a whole behind a certain project or belief.
There was a time in our history when political leaders would not have used such nationalistic language. In the early Republic, citing a region, state, or even locality was more important than claiming the nation’s populace was behind it. Virginians wanted lower tariffs, and New Yorkers desired a canal, which would resonate more with the wants of their constituencies at that time. From the period of the Constitution until the Civil War, our nation was perceived to be more America and the Optional Union of States rather than the United States of America.
In Joel Richard Paul’s Indivisible: Daniel Webster and the Birth of American Nationalism, the author explores the journey from a group of regions or states to a nation using Webster as a guide to view the action. In some regards, the book lays out key moments of antebellum America and then uses, at times sparingly, Webster to garner perspective. The author touches on critical events in the Early Republic, ranging from the Panic of 1819 to the Monroe Doctrine to the Compromise of 1850. In Paul’s work, Webster may not be a Zelig-like character, but for a book purportedly about the New Englander, he sits on the sidelines for much of the narrative.
During the middle section, Paul writes about the man who seems to capture his attention more than Webster, if not, clearly, his admiration. There are several chapters about Andrew Jackson and his perfidies. It is also in these sections where Paul demonstrates a little presentism. When he talks of the evils of Jackon’s nepotism, vanity, and toxic populism, one wonders if Paul is talking of a certain contemporary politician. And there on page 18 of the introduction is Donald Trump, compared with Jackson, but also with Hugo Chavez and Huey Long. Yet Paul could not resist a little populism when discussing the Panic of 1819, noting that “The rich got richer and the poor, poorer.” The other partner of great wealth, in Paul’s opinion, crime, is also cited. Hard work? Shrewd business dealings? These things are not a factor in wealth achievement in Paul’s early American Republic.
Only in the later chapters does Webster play a larger role in the book. Webster is certainly worthy of study because of his role in this period and his sheer presence. Paul notes: “He looked larger than life, with a massive head and a wide brow” and “dark gimlet eyes, which glowed almost demonically when he spoke.” Later, Paul designated Webster as the “greatest orator in the English Language.” Watching our teleprompter-dependent Democrats, the banality of most Senate speeches, or the ramblings of Donald Trump at his rallies, there is a bit of nostalgia for something lost, for some strong elocution today.
Yet that is not exactly fair. Webster’s delivery is not just superior to present day oratory but in an era in which it was considered an art form; he was the maestro. We have not only the awe of Webster’s contemporaries, those lucky enough to have heard him, but the text itself is poetry. In one of his earlier speeches against the policy of conscription, Webster stated, “When the present generation of men shall be swept away and that this government ever existed shall be a matter of history only, I desire that it may then be known that you have not proceeded in your course un-admonished and un-forewarned. Let it then be known that there were those, who would have stopped you, in the career of your measures, and held you back, as by the skirts of your garments, from the precipice, over which you are plunging, and drawing after the government of your Country.”
Webster possessed a phenomenal memory, which enabled him to speak without notes for hours at a time. It was to the service of preservation of the Union that Webster dedicated his most famous words.
Paul writes, “It was not a foregone conclusion that the Union would form a nation. The centrifugal force of regionalism seemed all too likely to overtake the much weaker pull of nationalism.” One of those moments occurred in 1830. During the nullification crisis, in which South Carolina asserted the state’s rights as trumping those of the nation, Webster, with his booming voice, declared “When my eyes shall be turned to behold for the last time the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious union; on states dissevered, discordant, belligerent; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood!” His line “Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and inseparable” is one of the greatest lines ever crafted on the nature of our country and in our language itself.
As magisterial were Webster’s speeches, he also proved a surprisingly deft diplomat. As Secretary of State in the John Tyler Administration, he delivered the Webster Ashburn treaty in which the Northeast borders of the nation were fixed. Conflicts seemed inevitable given the expansionist nature of the Republic in those days and the desire of the British Empire to protect their interests. It is an enviable part of our history that during these years, diplomacy, not armies, dictated the conclusions. During the 1840s, the US and British relationship slowly began to morph from Revolution to War, as in 1812, to the special relationship we know today. The treaty was some of Webster’s best work.
However, it was back in his capacity as Massachusetts Senator that Webster, though sticking to his principle of preservation of the Union, forsook his lifelong opposition to slavery by supporting, in 1850, the Fugitive Slave Act. Though beginning with a condemnation of slavery, Webster stated, “I will allude to the other complaints of the South, and especially to one which has in my opinion just foundation; and that is, that there has been found at the North, among individuals and among legislators, a disinclination to perform their constitutional duties fully in regard to the return of persons bound to service who have escaped into the free States. In that respect, the South, in my judgment, is right.” Bound to service indeed. For Webster, maintenance of the Union was, to use his own term, inseparable from that of the preservation of slavery. It was not that all Northerners decried his position. Abraham Lincoln, for one, supported the act. But for a Massachusetts Senator who set most of his life against slavery, this was seen as a betrayal. Paul argues that in 1850, the North did not have the capacity to win a Civil War. Industrialization over the 1850s made the victory of the North possible. This stance resonates as I have argued the same about Jackson’s and Webster’s facing down of South Carolina in the 1830s.
It was a principled act in some ways, knowing that his support for the Fugitive Slave Act would spell the end of his political career in Massachusetts. Shortly thereafter, Webster resigned his seat. After later taking the role of Secretary of State in the Millard Fillmore administration, Webster died in 1852, in debt, embittered, and denied the grand prize of the presidency, which, even then, was the obsession of prominent senators. He was also the last of the “great triumvirate” including Henry Clay and John C Calhoun. It says much about this period that senators were more prominent than presidents, save Jackson.
For those wishing for an excellent primer on the Early American Republic, something in greater depth than seven-minute videos or Wikipedia insertions, then Indivisible is a great book. It has just enough depth to provide insights and clarity into this era, yet not so dense as to get lost in detail about any one incident. I also liked the organization of the chapters. The book is not precisely linear, with some chapters overlapping others in the necessity to conclude a certain event.
Throughout the entire work, piece by piece, from the War in 1812 to the eventual ability of the North to impose the Union on the South, and creating a nation as opposed to a group of states or regions, the building blocks of our country are described. However, if one is looking for a true biography of Webster, this is a good start but more of an appetizer than the entire meal. Consider Robert Remini’s Webster, a Man and His Time, if one wants the banquet.
AD Tippet is the founder and Publisher of the Conservative Historian. Aves has conducted extensive research in Political, Religious, Social, and Educational history across all eras and geographies. He has been writing and podcasting for over 12 years. In 2020, he published his first book, The Conservative Historian. He has degrees in history, education, and an MBA. @BelAves