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  EPILOGUE

  "'Tis the Star Spangled Banner; O, long may it wave, O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave!" --_Francis Scott Key_.

  On the night that Miss Elisabeth Churchill gave me her hand and herheart for ever--for which I have not yet ceased to thank God--therebegan the guns of Palo Alto. Later, there came the fields of Monterey,Buena Vista, Cerro Gordo, Contreras, Cherubusco, Molino del Rey--at lastthe guns sounded at the gate of the old City of Mexico itself. Some ofthat fighting I myself saw; but much of the time I was employed in thatmanner of special work which had engaged me for the last few years. Itwas through Mr. Calhoun's agency that I reached a certain importance inthese matters; and so I was chosen as the commissioner to negotiate apeace with Mexico.

  This honor later proved to be a dangerous and questionable one. GeneralScott wanted no interference of this kind, especially since he knew Mr.Calhoun's influence in my choice. He thwarted all my attempts to reachthe headquarters of the enemy, and did everything he could to secure apeace of his own, at the mouth of the cannon. I could offer no termsbetter than Mr. Buchanan, then our secretary of state, had prepared forme, and these were rejected by the Mexican government at last. I wasordered by Mr. Polk to state that we had no better terms to offer; andas for myself, I was told to return to Washington. At that time I couldnot make my way out through the lines, nor, in truth, did I much care todo so.

  A certain event not written in history influenced me to remain for atime at the little village of Guadalupe Hidalgo. Here, in short, Ireceived word from a lady whom I had formerly known, none less thanSenora Yturrio, once a member of the Mexican legation at Washington.True to her record, she had again reached influential position in hercountry, using methods of her own. She told me now to pay no attentionto what had been reported by Mexico. In fact, I was approached again bythe Mexican commissioners, introduced by her! What was done then ishistory. We signed then and there the peace of Guadalupe Hidalgo, inaccordance with the terms originally given me by our secretary of state.So, after all, Calhoun's kindness to a woman in distress was not lost;and so, after all, he unwittingly helped in the ending of the war henever wished begun.

  Meantime, I had been recalled to Washington, but did not know thenature of that recall. When at last I arrived there I found myselfdisgraced and discredited. My actions were repudiated by theadministration. I myself was dismissed from the service without pay--sadenough blow for a young man who had been married less than a year.

  Mr. Polk's jealousy of John Calhoun was not the only cause of this.Calhoun's prophecy was right. Polk did not forget his revenge on me.Yet, none the less, after his usual fashion, he was not averse toreceiving such credit as he could. He put the responsibility of thetreaty upon the Senate! It was debated hotly there for some weeks, andat last, much to his surprise and my gratification, it was ratified!

  The North, which had opposed this Mexican War--that same war which laterled inevitably to the War of the Rebellion--now found itself unable tosay much against the great additions to our domain which the treaty hadsecured. We paid fifteen millions, in addition to our territorialindemnity claim, and we got a realm whose wealth could not be computed.So much, it must be owned, did fortune do for that singular favorite,Mr. Polk. And, curiously enough, the smoke had hardly cleared from PaloAlto field before Abraham Lincoln, a young member in the House ofCongress, was introducing a resolution which asked the marking of "thespot where that outrage was committed." Perhaps it was an outrage. Manystill hold it so. But let us reflect what would have been Lincoln's lifehad matters not gone just as they did.

  With the cessions from Mexico came the great domain of California. Now,look how strangely history sometimes works out itself. Had there beenany suspicion of the discovery of gold in California, neither Mexico norour republic ever would have owned it! England surely would have takenit. The very year that my treaty eventually was ratified was that inwhich gold was discovered in California! But it was too late then forEngland to interfere; too late then, also, for Mexico to claim it. Wegot untold millions of treasure there. Most of those millions went tothe Northern States, into manufactures, into commerce. The North ownedthat gold; and it was that gold which gave the North the power to crushthat rebellion which was born of the Mexican War--that same rebellion bywhich England, too late, would gladly have seen this Union disrupted, sothat she might have yet another chance at these lands she now had lostfor ever.

  Fate seemed still to be with us, after all, as I have so often hadoccasion to believe may be a possible thing. That war of conquest whichMr. Calhoun opposed, that same war which grew out of the slavery tenetswhich he himself held--the great error of his otherwise splendid publiclife--found its own correction in the Civil War. It was the gold ofCalifornia which put down slavery. Thenceforth slavery has existedlegally only _north_ of the Mason and Dixon line!

  We have our problems yet. Perhaps some other war may come to settlethem. Fortunate for us if there could be another California, anotherTexas, another Oregon, to help us pay for them!

  I, who was intimately connected with many of these less known matters,claim for my master a reputation wholly different from that given to himin any garbled "history" of his life. I lay claim in his name forforesight beyond that of any man of his time. He made mistakes, but hemade them bravely, grandly, and consistently. Where his convictions wereenlisted, he had no reservations, and he used every means, everyavailable weapon, as I have shown. But he was never self-seeking, nevercheap, never insincere. A detester of all machine politicians, he was astatesman worthy to be called the William Pitt of the United States. Theconsistency of his career was a marvelous thing; because, though hechanged in his beliefs, he was first to recognize the changingconditions of our country. He failed, and he is execrated. He won, andhe is forgot.

  My chief, Mr. Calhoun, did not die until some six years after thatfirst evening when Doctor Ward and I had our talk with him. He was saidto have died of a disease of the lungs, yet here again history iscuriously mistaken. Mr. Calhoun slept himself away. I sometimes thinkwith a shudder that perhaps this was the revenge which Nemesis took ofhim for his mistakes. His last days were dreamlike in their passing. Hislast speech in the Senate was read by one of his friends, as Doctor Wardhad advised him. Some said afterwards that his illness was that accursed"sleeping sickness" imported from Africa with these same slaves: It werea strange thing had John Calhoun indeed died of his error! At least heslept away. At least, too, he made his atonement. The South, followinghis doctrines, itself was long accursed of this same sleeping sickness;but in the providence of God it was not lost to us, and is ours for along and splendid history.

  It was through John Calhoun, a grave and somber figure of our history,that we got the vast land of Texas. It was through him also--and notthrough Clay nor Jackson, nor any of the northern statesmen, who nevercould see a future for the West--that we got all of our vast Northwestrealm. Within a few days after the Palo Alto ball, a memorandum ofagreement was signed between Minister Pakenham and Mr. Buchanan, oursecretary of state. This was done at the instance and by the aid ofJohn Calhoun. It was he--he and Helena von Ritz--who brought about thattreaty which, on June fifteenth, of the same year, was signed, andgladly signed, by the minister from Great Britain. The latter had beenfully enough impressed (such was the story) by the reports of thecolumns of our west-bound farmers, with rifles leaning at their wagonseats and plows lashed to the tail-gates. Calhoun himself never ceasedto regret that we could not delay a year or two years longer. In this hewas thwarted by the impetuous war with the republic on the south,although, had that never been fought, we had lost California--lost alsothe South, and lost the Union!

  Under one form or other, one name of government or another, the flag ofdemocracy eventually must float over all this continent. Not a part, butall of this country must be ours, must be the people's. It may cost moreblood and treasure now. Some time we shall see the wisdom of JohnCalhoun; but some time, too, I think, we
shall see come true thatprophecy of a strange and brilliant mentality, which in Calhoun'spresence and in mine said that all of these northern lands and allMexico as well must one day be ours--which is to say, the people's--forthe sake of human opportunity, of human hope and happiness. Our battlesare but partly fought. But at least they are not, then, lost.

  For myself, the close of the Mexican War found me somewhat worn bytravel and illy equipped in financial matters. I had been discredited, Isay, by my own government. My pay was withheld. Elisabeth, by that timemy wife, was a girl reared in all the luxury that our country then couldoffer. Shall I say whether or not I prized her more when gladly she gaveup all this and joined me for one more long and final journey out acrossthat great trail which I had seen--the trail of democracy, of America,of the world?

  At last we reached Oregon. It holds the grave of one of ours; it is thehome of others. We were happy; we asked favor of no man; fear of no onedid we feel. Elisabeth has in her time slept on a bed of husks. She hascooked at a sooty fireplace of her own; and at her cabin door I myselfhave been the guard. We made our way by ourselves and for ourselves, asdid those who conquered America for our flag. "The citizen standing inthe doorway of his home, shall save the Republic." So wrote a later pen.

  It was not until long after the discovery of gold in California had setus all to thinking that I was reminded of the strange story of the oldGerman, Von Rittenhofen, of finding some pieces of gold while on one ofhis hunts for butterflies. I followed out his vague directions as best Imight. We found gold enough to make us rich without our land. Thatclaim is staked legally. Half of it awaits an owner who perhaps willnever come.

  There are those who will accept always the solemn asseverations ofpoliticians, who by word of mouth or pen assert that this or that_party_ made our country, wrote its history. Such as they might smile iftold that not even men, much less politicians, have written all ourstory as a nation; yet any who smile at woman's influence in Americanhistory do so in ignorance of the truth. Mr. Webster and Lord Ashburtonhave credit for determining our boundary on the northeast--Englandcalled it Ashburton's capitulation to the Yankee. Did you never hear theother gossip? England laid all that to Ashburton's American wife! Lookat that poor, hot-tempered devil, Yrujo, minister from Spain with us,who saw his king's holdings on this continent juggled from hand to handbetween us all. His wife was daughter of Governor McKean in Pennsylvaniayonder. If she had no influence with her husband, so much the worse forher. In important times a generation ago M. Genet, of France, as allknow, was the husband of the daughter of Governor Clinton of New York.Did that hurt our chances with France? My Lord Oswald, of Great Britain,who negotiated our treaty of peace in 1782--was not his worldly fortunemade by virtue of his American wife? All of us should remember thatMarbois, Napoleon's minister, who signed the great treaty for him withus, married his wife while he was a mere _charge_ here in Washington;and she, too, was an American. Erskine, of England, when times werestrained in 1808, and later--and our friend for the most part--was nothe also husband of an American? It was as John Calhoun said--ourhistory, like that of England and France, like that of Rome and Troy,was made in large part by women.

  Of that strange woman, Helena, Baroness von Ritz, I have neverdefinitely heard since then. But all of us have heard of that greatuplift of Central Europe, that ferment of revolution, most noticeable inGermany, in 1848. Out of that revolutionary spirit there came to usthousands and thousands of our best population, the sturdiest and themost liberty-loving citizens this country ever had. They gave us scoresof generals in our late war, and gave us at least one cabinet officer.But whence came that spirit of revolution in Europe? _Why_ does it live,grow, increase, even now? _Why_ does it sound now, close to the oldestthrones? _Where_ originated that germ of liberty which did its work sowell? I am at least one who believes that I could guess something of itssource.

  The revolution in Hungary failed for the time. Kossuth came to see uswith pleas that we might aid Hungary. But republics forget. We gave noaid to Hungary. I was far away and did not meet Kossuth. I should havebeen glad to question him. I did not forget Helena von Ritz, nor doubtthat she worked out in full that strange destiny for which, indeed, shewas born and prepared, to which she devoted herself, made clean bysacrifice. She was not one to leave her work undone. She, I know, passedon her torch of principle.

  Elisabeth and I speak often of Helena von Ritz. I remember herstill-brilliant, beautiful, fascinating, compelling, pathetic, tragic.If it was asked of her, I know that she still paid it gladly--all thatsacrifice through which alone there can be worked out the progress ofhumanity, under that idea which blindly we attempted to express in ourDeclaration; that idea which at times we may forget, but whicheventually must triumph for the good of all the world. She helped usmake our map. Shall not that for which she stood help us hold it?

  At least, let me say, I have thought this little story might be setdown; and, though some to-day may smile at flags and principles, Ishould like, if I may be allowed, to close with the words of yet anotherman of those earlier times: "The old flag of the Union was my protectorin infancy and the pride and glory of my riper years; and, by the graceof God, under its shadow I shall die!" N.T.