|
Article
The Mad Man
and the Law
Copyright © All rights reserved
By Ken Chapman, Ph.D.
Ken Chapman &
Associates, Inc.
He was the most hated and vilified
congressman of his time, a stubborn, ill-humored man who delighted in
agitating his peers. During his time in office, Monday was the official
petition day in the House of Representatives. On that day, any member of the
House could introduce petitions to the membership for consideration. And
every Monday morning, his fellow congressmen entered the chamber with the
feeling of great dread. If they spotted the bulky legislator in seat 203 of
the House, they knew they were in for a very long day.
It seemed he always came in with the same set jaw, the same determined look,
and when he stood to speak, it was always about the same thing, “That
abominable law,” as he put it. At one point, it was reported that he
introduced nine hundred petitions against it in one day. One of his fellow
congressmen called him a “mischievous, bad old man.” And some newspapers
dubbed him “The mad man of Massachusetts.”
Who was this devious, troublemaker? Who was this
rabble-rouser who dared to speak against a law that had been legitimized by
every government since 1787? He was John Quincy Adams. His courageous battle
against slavery provoked some of the most explosive showdowns and outrageous
maneuvers in Congressional history. His stand was all the more noteworthy
because he did not have to take it at all. His reputation and his place in
history were already secured. As the sixth President of the United States, he
was entitled to retire to a life of reflective ease. But when his neighbors
approached him in 1830 to run as their congressman after his loss to Andrew
Jackson in the Presidential race of 1828, he accepted the honor and was
handily elected. And so he arrived back in Washington, D.C. as a sixty-year
old freshman congressman beginning, perhaps, the greatest struggle of his
political life.
As early as 1820, Adams had been engaged in the growing controversy over
slavery. He had publicly spoken against it on moral grounds in debates with
John C. Calhoun, all the while hoping a more articulate spokesman would take
up the cause. But in the House of Representatives in 1830, there was a no
more articulate spokesman to be found than Adams himself. And he took his
place with a tremendous sense of duty and purpose.
By 1836, some Southern congressmen had had enough. Voting 117 to 68, they
passed a gag rule that tabled all decisions relating to slavery, allowing no
discussion whatsoever, much less referral to committee for action. Over the
next eight years, continuing gag orders were adopted. And during those eight
years, Adams continued to present his petition using every bit of expertise
and cunning his forty years in politics had given him. He managed to get the
substance of each petition itself, artfully asking if a petition stating “such
and such” would be against “the rule?” His daily battle to repel the gag
rules infuriated his opponents as much as his stand against slavery. He could
never rise to his feet to speak without enduring a jarring round of ridicule,
repeated motions of censure, and loud calls for his expulsion.
But his courage never flagged. He remained a constant irritant to the status
quo, a constant prod to the slow of conscience, a constant reminder of the
immorality and illogic of men owning men, a constant voice for those he
represented. Finally, in 1844, the twenty-first gag rule was repealed. Adams
had won the right to continue to petition against slavery. By that time, even
his enemies acknowledged his courage and integrity. They called him, “Old man
eloquent.” He died in 1846 after collapsing at his desk in the House, never
having seen the abolition of the law he so despised.
While he accomplished many other great things in his
career, John Quincy Adams’s prolonged battle in Congress to abolish slavery
has marked him, perhaps even more than his presidency, as a man of moral
courage. He dared to speak out when it was neither comfortable nor safe to do
so. He dared to speak out when his personal reputation and safety were
threatened. And he continued to speak out when there seemed to be no hope
that he would ever be heard. That is the essence of courage: Doing what is
right simply because it is right to do so.
For more information about Ken Chapman and
Associates’ Leadership Development Programs, contact Ken Chapman at
205.366.0265 or email Ken at
kchapman@leaderscode.com.
<End>
|