America had expected it to be another dull meeting in Congress.
He didn't always go to the meetings, only every once in awhile to make sure things were running smoothly. When Pierce brought it to his attention that things were not going smoothly—not at all—America had decided he should attend the next one. He knew they'd be having difficulties—arguments, as the rest of the country was—but he hadn't known it would be this bad.
Pierce had told him about Sumner. Bright, but arrogant and foolish. He began a tirade about the affairs in Kansas, demanding it be admitted as a free state immediately. America's ears perked up with interest. He always liked to hear the different views of his people, particularly those passionate about their topic.
But soon it moved on from denouncing the state of Kansas, to denouncing other senators. Many of the members weren't pleased. America could see it clear as day on their faces. Some began shouting insults, threats, insisting he quiet himself. But Sumner merely segued from bashing Douglas onto Butler.
America glanced around, trying to match a face to the name. An angry face, most likely, affronted. Next to him he heard Douglas mutter, "That damn fool will get himself killed by some other damn fool."
In any other circumstance, he would have chuckled at the statement, but he knew Douglas was dead serious.
He attended another session later that week, curious to see how everything would play out. The meeting itself was more or less the same: arguing, discord. It was the end of it that burned itself into America's mind.
The senators had mostly left, a few stragglers making their way home. America was just leaving the room, when another man brushed in past him.
"Pardon me," he said, making his way deeper into the room.
America thought nothing of the man. Familiar in a vague sort of way, no one the young Nation could readily recognize.
He was halfway out of the building when he heard the screams. Alarmed, he rushed back to the source of the noise, seemingly coming from the room he'd left not moments earlier.
Disbelief was his first emotion, when he returned to see the nameless man bashing Sumner over the head with a cane. Blood was already in evidence, the beaten man unresponsive as the blows continued.
"Stop!" America shouted, running up to the attacker and trying to pry the cane from his grasp. And he would have succeeded, but for a rough elbow to his ribs and a harsh shove to both shoulders. The man sprinted then, escaping as America stood helplessly, torn between staying with Sumner and pursuing the other man.
In the end he chose Sumner, kneeling to apply pressure to the wound with the edge of his shirt. He knew little about treating injuries properly, especially Human injuries, but he tried his best, waiting as others attracted by the commotion drew to the scene.
"That damn fool will get himself killed by some other damn fool."
America wished the meetings had stayed boring.
"What's bothering you?" Buchanan asked of the young Nation, months later.
America wasn't sure how he felt towards Buchanan yet. He was strict and firm, but capable. And that was really what mattered most for his country above all else at the moment, was it not?
"I'm fine," he replied, the fake smile stretching the corners of his mouth a mite too awkwardly.
"You're not," the other man returned bluntly, setting down his pen. "Sumner's alive and recovering…you don't need to worry about him."
"It's not him I'm worried about," America began, chewing thoughtfully on his lip as he pondered how to word his sentiment. "The whole Dred-Scott case…was it really necessary for them to go that far? To void the Missouri Compromise just…"
"Didn't the Kansas-Nebraska Act already achieve that?" was Buchanan's response. "It's their business. Perhaps they went too far. Or perhaps, as I think, they did not."
"Douglas thinks they did," America mused, as if to himself, after a moment's silence.
The rush of irritation in Buchanan was almost tangible. "Don't bring up that man," he responded shortly, turning abruptly back to his work.
Sighing to himself, America turned back to his window. This was going to be a long term.
Things seemed to move so fast lately. One moment Douglas and Buchanan had been more or less civilly discussing Lecompton and the situation in Kansas. The next, they were growing more and more irritated with each word that escaped the other's lips. It wasn't long before they were full out yelling. Screaming, as if it were the only way to make the other see any manner of sense in their point. America watched the back and forth confrontation, trying to put an end to it.
"You're biased!" Douglas shouted, fists clenched. "Popular sovereignty is meant to be decided by the people, not for you to pick and latch onto the first corrupt legislature that comes along in your interest!"
"Both of you, please, calm—" America tried to intercept, to no avail.
"This is what they want!" Buchanan returned, at an equal level, ignoring his Nation. "The Kansans created this, not me! I'm just helping them keep what they want and doing what's best for our country!"
"And how is this best for our country?" Douglas returned, viciously. "Plenty of people are against this blasted slavery. Plenty of Kansans themselves—and you know it! You know Lecompton was not decided on properly."
"The Kansans chose it, they—"
"It's fraudulent! They didn't chose, they—"
"Stop it, please!"
"You're just upset because the system you came up with was discredited in the Dred-Scott decision. That's it!" Buchanan hit his fist on the table, as if in both anger and revelation.
"I'm concerned, because you're making a mockery of the system I made, and abusing it and democracy in the process. Do not pretend you do n—"
"STOP!" America shouted, slamming both hands palm down on the president's desk. The two finally stopped, looking at him, clouded anger still clear in their expressions.
"You've got to calm down, and work this out peacefully," America demanded, frowning. "There's enough fighting around here already without you two going at it. Please, just…stop. I don't want any more yelling."
A long pause passed, an awkward drawn out silence between the three, during which they each collected their own thoughts.
"Mr. Douglas," Buchanan said, finally, a dangerous calm to his tone. "I desire you to remember that no Democrat ever yet differed from an Administration of his own choice without being crushed."
"Mr. President," Douglas replied contemptuously, "I wish you to remember that General Jackson is dead!" And with that said, he left the room, shutting the door behind him.
History Notes: Charles Sumner was a Massachusetts senator, brilliant and a skilled orator, but a humorless abolitionist, scathing of his opposition. In "The Crime Against Kansas" he verbally attacked both Douglas and Andrew P. Butler, who was not present to defend himself. Butler's nephew, Present S. Brooks, beat Sumner with a cane two days after the speech, after a Senate meeting had adjourned. Although the damage was superficial, Sumner was too psychologically damaged by the incident to return to the Senate until 1859. Southerners were very supportive, sending Brooks souvenir canes and reelecting him as governor after his resignation from Congress. Northerners were appalled by this, taking it as proof of southern "brutality".
In the Election of 1856, the Republicans nominated John C. Frèmont and the Democrats nominated James Buchanan, and the "Know-Nothing" Americans nominated ex-president Fillmore. The Democrats denounced the Republicans as a sectional party threatening the Union. Buchanan won with 174 votes to Fremont's 114 and Fillmore's 8. He was politically experience, dignified and cautious, though occasionally vindictive. He was popular with and enjoyed women, but he never married. Many believed he was strong enough to steer the country to calmer waters.
Scott and his wife, slaves of the deceased Dr. John Emerson, vied for their freedom in court claiming that their residence in Illinois—where slavery was barred under the Northwest ordinance—and in the Wisconsin Territory—where the Missouri Compromise outlawed it—made them free. The Court ruled that, as blacks were not citizens, they could not sue in the courts, and that the Missouri Compromise was invalid and Congress had no right to regulate slavery. This, known as the Dred-Scott decision, brought into question the concept of popular sovereignty. If Congress could not control regulate slavery, how could mere territorial legislatures? Many claimed Buchanan and the fact most of the justices were proslavery Northerners and Southerners had skewed the courts against Scott. This decision convinced thousands that the South was aggressively trying to expand slavery.
Buchanan put Robert J. Walker—similar to Douglas in personality—in charge of Kansas as governor. When the proslavery leaders formed a constitution at Lecompton and passed it without fair vote, Walker denounced the document and ran to inform Buchanan of the situation. Instead of rejecting the Lecompton constitution, Buchanan asked Congress to authorize it. Douglas, angered, debated the issue fiercely with Buchanan. He was opposing his own party's leader, shattering the Democrats, but for the sake of not only self-interest, but principle and justice, did he defend his system. After a particularly bad argument (last two lines quoted in the story part) Buchanan began politically pressuring Douglas. In 1857, a new legislature had been chosen in Kansas with antislavery voters participating, but proslavery settlers boycotted it. When Buchanan continued to press the Lecompton constitution, Congress ordered a vote on it in Kansas. Hoping to slant the results in favor of the measure, Buchanan said Kansas would not become a state until its population was 90,000 if the Lecompton constitution were rejected. Nevertheless, it was turned down by the Kansas, 6:1. By the end this, Kansas was very alienated from Washington's administration.