Section 14, However, Was a Still More Important Provision Which

announced that the prohibition of slavery in the Act of 1820 had been "superseded by the principles of the legislation of eighteen hundred and fifty, commonly called the compromise measures," and was therefore "inoperative."

It has been commonly believed that Douglas contemplated making one free and one slave State out of the Nebraska region. His own simple explanation is far more credible: the two Johnsons had petitioned for a division of the Territory along the fortieth parallel, and both the Iowa and Missouri delegations believed that their local interests would be better served by two Territories.

Again Pacific railroad interests seem to have crossed the path of the Nebraska bill. The suspicions of Delegate-elect Hadley Johnson had been aroused by the neglect of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs to extinguish the claims of the Omaha Indians, whose lands lay directly west of Iowa. At the last session, an appropriation had been made for the purpose of extinguishing the Indian title to lands west of both Missouri and Iowa; and everyone knew that this was a preliminary step to settlement by whites. The appropriation had been zealously advocated by representatives from Missouri, who frankly admitted that the possession of these lands would make the Pacific railroad route available. Now as the Indian Commissioner, who had before shown himself an active partisan of Senator Atchison, rapidly pushed on the treaties with the Indians west of Missouri and dallied with the Omahas, the inference was unavoidable, that Iowa interests were being sacrificed to Missouri interests. Such was the story that the Iowa Johnson poured into the ear of Senator Douglas, to whom he was presented by Senator Dodge. The surest way to safeguard the interests of Iowa was to divide the Territory of Nebraska, and give Iowa her natural outlet to the West.

Senator Dodge had also come to this conclusion. Nebraska would be to Iowa, what Iowa had been to Illinois. Were only one Territory organized, the seat of government and leading thoroughfares would pass to the south of Iowa. Put in the language of the promoters of the Pacific railroad, one Territory meant aid to the central route; two Territories meant an equal chance for both northern and central routes. As the representative of Chicago interests, Douglas was not blind to these considerations.

On Monday, January 23d, Douglas reported the Kansas-Nebraska bill with a brief word of explanation. Next day Senator Dixon expressed his satisfaction with the amendment, which he interpreted as virtually repealing the Missouri Compromise. He disclaimed any other wish or intention than to secure the principle which the compromise measures of 1850 had established. An editorial in the Washington Union threw the weight of the administration into the balance: "The proposition of Mr. Douglas is a practical execution of the principles of that compromise [of 1850], and therefore, cannot but be regarded by the administration as a test of Democratic orthodoxy."

While the administration publicly wheeled into line behind Douglas, the "Appeal of the Independent Democrats in Congress to the People of the United States" summoned the anti-slavery elements to join battle in behalf of the Missouri Compromise. This memorable document had been written by Chase of Ohio and dated January 19th, but a postscript was added after the revised Kansas-Nebraska bill had been reported. It was an adroitly worded paper. History has falsified many of its predictions; history then controverted many of its assumptions; but it was colored with strong emotion and had the ring of righteous indignation.

The gist of the appeal was contained in two clauses, one of which declared that the Nebraska bill would open all the unorganized territory of the Union to the ingress of slavery; the other arraigned the bill as "a gross violation of a sacred pledge; as a criminal betrayal of precious rights." In ominous words, fellow citizens were besought to observe how the blight of slavery would settle upon all this land, if this bill should become a law. Christians and Christian ministers were implored to interpose. "Let all protest, earnestly and emphatically, by correspondence, through the press, by memorials, by resolutions of public meetings and legislative bodies, and in whatever other mode may seem expedient, against this enormous crime." In the postscript Douglas received personal mention. "Not a man in Congress or out of Congress, in 1850, pretended that the compromise measures would repeal the Missouri prohibition. Mr. Douglas himself never advanced such a pretence until this session. His own Nebraska bill, of last session, rejected it. It is a sheer afterthought. To declare the prohibition inoperative, may, indeed, have effect in law as a repeal, but it is a most discreditable way of reaching the object. Will the people permit their dearest interests to be thus made the mere hazards of a presidential game, and destroyed by false facts and false inferences?"

This attack roused the tiger in the Senator from Illinois. When he addressed the Senate on January 30th, he labored under ill-repressed anger. Even in the expurgated columns of the Congressional Globe enough stinging personalities appeared to make his friends regretful. What excited his wrath particularly was that Chase and Sumner had asked for a postponement of discussion, in order to examine the bill, and then, in the interval, had sent out their indictment of the author. It was certainly unworthy of him to taunt them with having desecrated the Sabbath day by writing their plea. The charge was not only puerile but amusing, when one considers how Douglas himself was observing that particular Sabbath.

It was comparatively easy to question and disprove the unqualified statement of the Appeal, that "the original settled policy of the United States was non-extension of slavery." Less convincing was Douglas's attempt to prove that the Missouri Compromise was expressly annulled in 1850, when portions of Texas and of the former Spanish province of Louisiana were added to New Mexico, and also a part of the province of Louisiana was joined to Utah. Douglas was in the main correct as to geographical data; but he could not, and did not, prove that the members of the Thirty-first Congress purposed also to revoke the Missouri Compromise restriction in all the other unorganized Territories. This contention was one of those non-sequiturs of which Douglas, in the heat of argument, was too often guilty. Still more regrettable, because it seemed to convict him of sophistry, was the mode by which he sought to evade the charge of the Appeal, that the act organizing New Mexico and settling the boundary of Texas had reaffirmed the Missouri Compromise. To establish his point he had to assume that all the land cut off from Texas north of 36° 30', was added to New Mexico, thus leaving nothing to which the slavery restriction, reaffirmed in the act of 1850, could apply. But Chase afterward invalidated this assumption and Douglas was forced so to qualify his original statement as to yield the point. This was a damaging admission and prejudiced his cause before the country. But when he brought his wide knowledge of American colonization to bear upon the concrete problems of governmental policy, his grasp of the situation was masterly.

"Let me ask you where you have succeeded in excluding slavery by an act of Congress from one inch of American soil? You may tell me that you did it in the northwest territory by the ordinance of 1787. I will show you by the history of the country that you did not accomplish any such thing. You prohibited slavery there by law, but you did not exclude it in fact.... I know of but one territory of the United States where slavery does exist, and that one is where you have prohibited it by law, and it is in this very Nebraska Territory. In defiance of the eighth section of the act of 1820, in defiance of Congressional dictation, there have been, not many, but a few slaves introduced.... I have no doubt that whether you organize the territory of Nebraska or not this will continue for some time to come.... But when settlers rush in--when labor becomes plenty, and therefore cheap, in that climate, with its productions, it is worse than folly to think of its being a slave-holding country.... I do not like, I never did like, the system of legislation on our part, by which a geographical line, in violation of the laws of nature, and climate, and soil, and of the laws of God, should be run to establish institutions for a people."

The fate of the bill was determined behind closed doors. After all, the Senate chamber was only a public clearing-house, where senators elucidated, or per-chance befogged, the issues. The real arena was the Democratic caucus. Under the leadership of Douglas, those high in the party conclaves met, morning after morning, in the endeavor to compose the sharp differences between the Northern and the Southern wings of the party. On both sides, there was a disposition to agree on the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, though grave misgivings were felt. There were Southern men who believed that the repeal would be "an unavailing boon"; and there were Northern politicians who foresaw the storm of popular indignation that would break upon their heads. Southern Democrats were disposed to follow the South Carolina theory to its logical extreme: as joint owners of the Territories the citizens of all the States might carry their property into the Territories without let or hindrance; only the people of the Territory in the act of framing a State constitution might exclude slavery. Neither Congress nor a territorial legislature might take away property in slaves. With equal pertinacity, Douglas and his supporters advocated the right of the people in their territorial status, to mould their institutions as they chose. Was there any middle ground?

Prolonged discussion made certain points of agreement clear to all. It was found that no one questioned the right of a State, with sufficient population and a republican constitution, to enter the Union with or without slavery as it chose. All agreed that it was best that slavery should not be discussed in Congress. All agreed that, whether or no Congress had the power to exclude slavery in the Territories, it ought not to exercise it. All agreed that if Congress had such power, it ought to delegate it to the people. Here agreement ceased. Did Congress have such power? Clearly the law of the Constitution could alone determine. Then why not delegate the power to control their domestic institutions to the people of the Territories, subject to the provisions of the Constitution? "And then," said one of the participants later, "in order to provide a means by which the Constitution could govern ... we of the South, conscious that we were right, the North asserting the same confidence in its own doctrines, agreed that every question touching human slavery or human freedom should be appealable to the Supreme Court of the United States for its decision."

While this compromise was being reached in caucus, the bill was under constant fire on the floor of the Senate. The Appeal of the Independent Democrats had bitterly arraigned the declaratory part of the Kansas-Nebraska bill, where the Missouri Compromise was said to have been superseded and therefore inoperative. Even staunch Democrats like Cass had taken exception to this phraseology, preferring to declare the Missouri Compromise null and void in unequivocal terms. To Douglas there was nothing ambiguous or misleading in the wording of the clause. What was meant was this: the acts of 1850 rendered the Missouri Compromise inoperative in Utah and New Mexico; but so far as the Missouri Compromise applied to territory not embraced in those acts, it was superseded by the great principle established in 1850. "Superseded by" meant "inconsistent with" the compromise of 1850. The word "supersede," however, continued to cause offense. Cass read from the dictionary to prove that the word had a more positive force than Douglas gave to it. To supersede meant to set aside: he could not bring himself to assent to this statement.

By this time agreement had been reached in the caucus, so that Douglas was quite willing to modify the phraseology of the bill. "We see," said he, "that the difference here is only a difference as to the appropriate word to be used. We all agree in the principle which we now propose to establish." As he was not satisfied with the phrases suggested, he desired some time to consult with friends of the bill, as to which word would best "carry out the idea which we are intending to put into practical operation by this bill."

On the following day, February 7th, Douglas reported, not merely "the appropriate word," but an entirely new clause, the product of the caucus deliberations.

The eighth section of the act preparatory to the admission of Missouri into the Union is no longer said to be superseded, but "being inconsistent with the principle of non-intervention by Congress with slavery in the States and Territories, as recognized by the legislation of 1850, (commonly called the Compromise Measures) is hereby declared inoperative and void, it being the true intent and meaning of this act not to legislate slavery into any Territory or State, nor to exclude it therefrom, but to leave the people thereof perfectly free to form and regulate their domestic institutions in their own way, subject only to the Constitution of the United States."

This part of the bill had now assumed its final form. Subject only to the Constitution of the United States. The words were clear; but what was their implication? A few days later, Douglas wrote to his Springfield confidant, "The Democratic party is committed in the most solemn manner to the principle of congressional non-interference with slavery in the States and Territories. The administration is committed to the Nebraska bill and will stand by it at all hazards.... The principle of this bill will form the test of parties, and the only alternative is either to stand with the Democracy or rally under Seward, John Van Buren & Co.... We shall pass the Nebraska bill in both Houses by decisive majorities and the party will then be stronger than ever, for it will be united upon principle."

Yet there were dissentient opinions. What was in the background of Southern consciousness was expressed bluntly by Brown of Mississippi, who refused to admit that the right of the people of a Territory to regulate their domestic institutions, including slavery, was a right to destroy. "If I thought in voting for the bill as it now stands, I was conceding the right of the people in the territory, during their territorial existence, to exclude slavery, I would withhold my vote.... It leaves the question where I am quite willing it should be left--to the ultimate decision of the courts." Chase also, though for widely different reasons, disputed the power of the people of a Territory to exclude slavery, under the terms of this bill. And Senator Clayton pointed out that non-interference was a delusion, so long as it lay within the power of any member of Congress to move a repeal of any and every territorial law which came up for approval, for the bill expressly provided for congressional approval of territorial laws.

Douglas was irritated by these aspersions on his cherished principle. He declared again, in defiant tones, that the right of the people to permit or exclude was clearly included in the wording of the measure. He was not willing to be lectured about indirectness. He had heard cavil enough about his amendments.

In the course of a debate on March 2d, another unforeseen difficulty loomed up in the distance. If the Missouri Compromise were repealed, would not the original laws of Louisiana, which legalized slavery, be revived? How then could the people of the Territories be free to legislate against slavery? It was a knotty question, testing the best legal minds in the Senate; and it was dispatched only by an amendment which stated that the repeal of the Missouri Compromise should not revive any antecedent law respecting slavery.

The objection raised by Clayton still remained: how was it possible to reconcile congressional non-intervention with the right of Congress to revise territorial laws? Now Douglas had never contended that the right of the people to self-government in the Territories was complete as against the power of Congress. He had never sought to confer upon them more than a relative degree of self-government--"the power to regulate their domestic institutions." He could not, and he did not, deny the truth and awkwardness of Clayton's contention. Where, then, demanded his critics, was the guarantee that the Kansas-Nebraska bill would banish the slavery controversies from Congress? This challenge could not go unanswered. Without other explanation, Douglas moved to strike out the provision requiring all territorial laws to be submitted to Congress. But did this divest Congress of the power of revision? On this point Douglas preserved a discreet silence.

Recognizing also the incongruity of giving an absolute veto power to a governor who would be appointed by the President, Douglas proposed a suspensive, in place of an absolute, veto power. A two-thirds vote in each branch of the territorial legislature would override the governor's negative. Chase now tried to push Douglas one step farther on the same slippery road. "Can it be said," he asked, "that the people of a territory will enjoy self-government when they elect only their legislators and are subject to a governor, judges, and a secretary appointed by the Federal Executive?" He would amend by making all these officers elective. Douglas extricated himself from this predicament by saying simply that these officers were charged with federal rather than with territorial duties. The amendment was promptly negatived. Yet seven years later, this very proposition was indorsed by Douglas under peculiar circumstances. At this time in 1854, it would have effected nothing short of a revolution in American territorial policy; and it might have altered the whole history of Kansas.

Despite asseverations to the contrary, there were Southern men in Congress who nourished the tacit hope that another slave State might be gained west of the Missouri. There was a growing conviction among Southern people that the possession of Kansas at least might be successfully contested. At all events, no barrier to Southern immigration into the Territory was allowed to remain in the bill. Objection was raised to the provision, common to nearly all territorial bills, that aliens, who had declared their intention of becoming citizens, should be permitted to vote in territorial elections. In a contest with the North for the possession of the territorial government, the South would be at an obvious disadvantage, if the homeless aliens in the North could be colonized in Kansas, for there was no appreciable alien population in the Southern States. So it was that Clayton's amendment, to restrict the right to vote and to hold office to citizens of the United States, received the solid vote of the South in the Senate. It is significant that Douglas voted with his section on this important issue. There can be no better proof of his desire that freedom should prevail in the new Territories. The Clayton amendment, however, passed the Senate by a close vote.

On the 2d of March the Kansas-Nebraska bill went to a third reading by a vote of twenty-nine to twelve; its passage was thus assured. Debate continued, however, during the afternoon and evening of the next day. Friends of the bill had agreed that it should be brought to a vote on this night. The privilege of closing the debate belonged to the chairman of the Committee on Territories; but in view of the lateness of the hour, he offered to waive his privilege and let a vote be taken. Voices were raised in protest, however, and Douglas yielded to the urgent request of his friends.

The speech of Douglas was a characteristic performance. It abounded in repetitions, and it can hardly be said to have contributed much to the understanding of the issues. Yet it was a memorable effort, because it exhibited the magnificent fighting qualities of the man. He was completely master of himself. He permitted interruptions by his opponents; he invited them; indeed, at times, he welcomed them; but at no time was he at a loss for a reply. Dialectically he was on this occasion more than a match for Chase and Seward. There were no studied effects in his oratory. Knowing himself to be addressing a wider audience than the Senate chamber and its crowded galleries, he appealed with intuitive keenness to certain fundamental traits in his constituents. Americans admire self-reliance even in an opponent, and the spectacle of a man fighting against personal injustice is often likely to make them forget the principle for which he stands. So Seward, who surely had no love for Douglas and no respect for his political creed, was moved to exclaim in frank admiration, "I hope the Senator will yield for a moment, because I have never had so much respect for him as I have tonight." When Chase assured Douglas that he always purposed to treat the Senator from Illinois with entire courtesy, Douglas retorted: "The Senator says that he never intended to do me injustice.... Sir, did he not say in the same document to which I have already alluded, that I was engaged, with others, 'in a criminal betrayal of precious rights,' 'in an atrocious plot'?... Did he not say everything calculated to produce and bring upon my head all the insults to which I have been subjected publicly and privately--not even excepting the insulting letters which I have received from his constituents, rejoicing at my domestic bereavements, and praying that other and similar calamities may befall me!"

In much the same way, he turned upon Sumner, as the collaborator of the Appeal. Here was one who had begun his career as an Abolitionist in the Senate, with the words "Strike but hear me first," but who had helped to close the doors of Faneuil Hall against Webster, when he sought to speak in self-defense in 1850, and who now--such was the implication--was denying simple justice to another patriot.

Personalities aside, the burden of his speech was the reassertion of his principle of popular sovereignty. He showed how far he had traveled since the Fourth of January in no way more strikingly, than when he called in question the substantive character of the Missouri Compromise. In his discussion of the legislative history of the Missouri acts, he easily convicted both Chase and Seward of misapprehensions; but he refused to recognize the truth of Chase's words, that "the facts of the transaction taken together and as understood by the country for more than thirty years, constitute a compact binding in moral force," though expressed only in the terms of ordinary statutes. So far had Douglas gone in his advocacy of his measure that he had lost the measure of popular sentiment. He was so confident of himself and his cause, so well-assured that he had sacrificed nothing but an empty form, in repealing the slavery restriction, that he forgot the popular mind does not so readily cast aside its prejudices and grasp substance in preference to form. The combative instinct in him was strong. He had entered upon a quarrel; he would acquit himself well. Besides, he had supreme confidence that popular intelligence would slowly approve his course.

Perhaps Douglas's greatest achievement on this occasion was in coining a phrase which was to become a veritable slogan in succeeding years. That which had hitherto been dubbed "squatter sovereignty," Douglas now dignified with the name "popular sovereignty," and provided with a pedigree. "This was the principle upon which the colonies separated from the crown of Great Britain, the principle upon which the battles of the Revolution were fought, and the principle upon which our republican system was founded.... The Revolution grew out of the assertion of the right on the part of the imperial government to interfere with the internal affairs and domestic concerns of the colonies.... I will not weary the Senate in multiplying evidence upon this point. It is apparent that the Declaration of Independence had its origin in the violation of the great fundamental principle which secured to the people of the colonies the right to regulate their own domestic affairs in their own way; and that the Revolution resulted in the triumph of that principle, and the recognition of the right asserted by it."

In conclusion, Douglas said with perfect truthfulness: "I have not brought this question forward as a Northern man or as a Southern man. I am unwilling to recognize such divisions and distinctions. I have brought it forward as an American Senator, representing a State which is true to this principle, and which has approved of my action in respect to the Nebraska bill. I have brought it forward not as an act of justice to the South more than to the North. I have presented it especially as an act of justice to the people of those Territories, and of the States to be formed therefrom, now and in all time to come."

Nor did he seem to entertain a doubt as to the universal appeal which his principle would make: "I say frankly that, in my opinion, this measure will be as popular at the North as at the South, when its provisions and principles shall have been fully developed and become well understood. The people at the North are attached to the principles of self-government; and you cannot convince them that that is self-government which deprives a people of the right of legislating for themselves, and compels them to receive laws which are forced upon them by a legislature in which they are not represented."

The rising indignation at the North against the Kansas-Nebraska bill was felt much more directly in the House than in the Senate. So strong was the counter-current that the Senate bill was at first referred to the Committee of the Whole, and thus buried for weeks under a mass of other bills. Many believed that the bill had received a quietus for the session. Not so Douglas and his friend Richardson of Illinois, who was chairman of the Committee on Territories. With a patience born of long parliamentary experience, they bided their time. In the meantime, every possible influence was brought to bear upon recalcitrant Democrats. And just here the wisdom of Douglas, in first securing the support of the administration, was vindicated. All those devices were invoked which President and cabinet could employ through the use of the Federal patronage, so that when Richardson, on the 8th of May, called upon the House to lay aside one by one the eighteen bills which preceded the Kansas-Nebraska bill, he was assured of a working majority. The House bill having thus been reached, Richardson substituted for it the Senate bill, minus the Clayton amendment. When he then announced that only four days would be allowed for debate, the obstructionists could no longer contain themselves. Scenes of wild excitement followed. In the end, the friends of the bill yielded to the demand for longer discussion. Debate was prolonged until May 22d, when the bill passed by a vote of 113 to 110, in the face of bitter opposition.

Through all these exciting days, Douglas was constantly at Richardson's side, cautioning and advising. He was well within the truth when he said, in confidential chat with Madison Cutts, "I passed the Kansas-Nebraska Act myself. I had the authority and power of a dictator throughout the whole controversy in both houses. The speeches were nothing. It was the marshalling and directing of men, and guarding from attacks, and with a ceaseless vigilance preventing surprises."

The refusal of the House to accept the Clayton amendment brought the Kansas-Nebraska measure again before the Senate. Knowing that a refusal to concur would probably defeat the measure for the session, Southern senators were disposed to waive their objections to allowing aliens to vote in the new Territories. Even Atchison was now disposed to think the matter of little consequence. Foreigners were not the pioneers in the Territories; they followed the pioneers. He did not complete his thought, but it is unmistakable: therefore, native citizens as first-comers, rather than foreigners, would probably decide the question of slavery in the Territories forever. And so, after two days of debate, Douglas again had his way: the Senate voted to recede from the Clayton amendment. On May 30th, the President signed the Kansas-Nebraska bill and it became law.

The outburst of wrath at the North which accompanied the repeal of the Missouri Compromise did not augur well for the future repose of the country. Douglas had anticipated angry demonstrations; but even he was disturbed by the vehemence of the protestations which penetrated to the Senate chamber. Had he failed to gauge the depth of Northern public opinion? Senator Everett disturbed the momentary quiet of Congress by presenting a memorial signed by over three thousand New England clergymen, who, "in the name of Almighty God," protested against the Kansas-Nebraska Act as a great moral wrong and as a breach of faith. This brought Douglas to his feet. With fierce invective he declared this whole movement was instigated by the circulars sent out by the Abolition confederates in the Senate. These preachers had been led by an atrocious falsehood "to desecrate the pulpit, and prostitute the sacred desk to the miserable and corrupting influence of party politics." What right had these misguided men to speak in the name of Almighty God upon a political question? It was an attempt to establish in this country the doctrine that clergymen have a peculiar right to determine the will of God in legislative matters. This was theocracy.

Some weeks later, Douglas himself presented another protest, signed by over five hundred clergymen of the Northwest and accompanied by resolutions which denounced the Senator from Illinois for his "want of courtesy and reverence toward man and God." His comments upon this protest were not calculated to restore him to favor among these "divinely appointed ministers for the declaration and enforcement of God's will." His public letter to them, however, was much more creditable, for in it he avoided abusive language and appealed frankly to the sober sense of the clergy. Of the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, he said again that it was necessary, "in order to recognize the great principle of self-government and State equality. It does not vary the question in any degree, that human slavery, in your opinion, is a great moral wrong. If so, it is not the only wrong upon which the people of each of the States and Territories of this Union are called upon to act.... You think you are abundantly competent to decide this question now and forever. If you should remove to Nebraska, with a view of making it your permanent home, would you be any less competent to decide it when you should have arrived in the country?"

The obloquy which Douglas encountered in Washington was mere child's play, as compared with the storm of abuse that met him on his return to Chicago. He afterwards said that he could travel from Boston to Chicago by the light of his own effigies. "Traitor," "Arnold,"--with a suggestion that he had the blood of Benedict Arnold in his veins,--"Judas," were epithets hurled at him from desk and pulpit. He was presented with thirty pieces of silver by some indignant females in an Ohio village. So incensed were the people of Chicago, that his friends advised him not to return, fearing that he would be assaulted. But fear was a sensation that he had never experienced. He went to Chicago confident that he could silence opposition as he had done four years before.

Three or four days after his return, he announced that on the night of September 1st, he would address his constituents in front of North Market Hall. The announcement occasioned great excitement. The opposition press cautioned their readers not to be deceived by his sophistries, and hinted broadly at the advisability of breaking up the meeting. Many friends of Douglas believed that personal violence was threatened. During the afternoon flags were hung at half mast on the lake boats; bells were tolled, as the crowds began to gather in the dusk of the evening; some public calamity seemed to impend. At a quarter past eight, Douglas began to address the people. He was greeted with hisses. He paused until these had subsided. But no sooner did he begin again than bedlam broke loose. For over two hours he wrestled with the mob, appealing to their sense of fairness; but he could not gain a hearing. Finally, for the first time in his career, he was forced to admit defeat. Drawing his watch from his pocket and observing that the hour was late, he shouted, in an interval of comparative quiet, "It is now Sunday morning--I'll go to church, and you may go to Hell!" At the imminent risk of his life, he went to his carriage and was driven through the crowds to his hotel.

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