Andrew Jackson and Indian Removal

It is an awesome contradiction that at the moment the United States was entering a new age of economic and social betterment for its citizens-the industrial revolution underway, democracy expanding, social and political reforms in progress-the Indians were driven from their homes and forced to seek refuge in remote areas west of the Mississippi River. Jackson--the supreme exponent of liberty in terms of preventing government intervention and intrusion, took it upon himself to expel the Indians from their ancient haunts and decree that they must reside outside the company of civilized white men. It was a depressing and terrible commentary on American life and institutions in the 1830s.

The policy of white Americans toward Indians was a shambles, right from the beginning. Sometimes the policy was benign-such as sharing educational advantages-but more often than not it was malevolent. Colonists drove the Indians from their midst, stole their lands and, when necessary, murdered them. To the colonists, Indians were inferior and their culture a throwback to a darker age.

When independence was declared and a new government established committed to liberty and justice for all, the situation of the Indians within the continental limits of the United States contradicted the ennobling ideas of both the Declaration and the Constitution. Nevertheless, the Founding Fathers convinced themselves that men of reason, intelligence and good will could resolve the Indian problem. In their view the Indians were "noble savages," arrested in cultural development, but they would one day take their rightful place beside white society. Once they were "civilized" they would be absorbed.

President George Washington formulated a policy to encourage the "civilizing" process, and Jefferson continued it. They presumed that once the Indians adopted the practice of private property, built homes, farmed, educated their children, and embraced Christianity these Native Americans would win acceptance from white Americans.  Both Presidents wished the Indians to become cultural white men.  If they did not, said Jefferson, then they must be driven to the Rocky Mountains.

The policy of removal was first suggested by Jefferson as the alternative to the "civilizing" process, and as far as many Americans were concerned removal made more sense than any other proposal. Henry Clay, for example, insisted that it was impossible to civilize' these "savages." They were, he argued, inferior to white men and "their disappearance from the human family would be no great loss to the world."

Despite Clay's racist notions-shared by many Americans-the government's efforts to convert the Indians into cultural white men made considerable progress in the 1820s. The Cherokees, in particular, showed notable technological and material advances as a result of increased contact with traders, government agents, and missionaries, along with the growth of a considerable population of mixed-bloods.

As the Indians continued to resist the efforts to get rid of them-the
thought of abandoning the land on which their ancestors lived was
especially painful for them-the states insisted on exercising jurisdiction over
Indian lands within their boundaries. It soon became apparent that unless
the federal government instituted a policy of removal it would have to do
something about protecting the Indians against the incursions of the states.
But the federal government was feckless. It did neither. Men like President
John Quincy Adams felt that removal was probably the only policy to follow but he could not bring himself to implement it. Nor could he face down a state like Georgia.  so he did nothing.  Many men of good will simply turned their faces away.  They, too, did nothing.

Not Jackson.  He had no hesitation about taking action.  And he believed hat removal was indeed the only policy available if the Indians were to be protected from certain annihilation.  His ideas about the Indians developed from his life on the frontier, his expansionist dreams, his commitment to states¹ rights, and his intense nationalism. He saw the nation as an indivisible unit whose strength and future were dependent on its ability to repel outside foes. He wanted all Americans from every state and territory to participate in his dream of empire, but they must acknowledge allegiance to a permanent and indissoluble bond under a federal system. Although devoted to states' rights and limited government in Washington, Jackson rejected any notion
that jeopardized the safety of the US.  That included nullification and secession.  That also included the Indians.

Jackson¹s nationalism, a partial product of his expansionist ideals, and his states' rights philosophy, a product of his concern for individual liberty, merged to produce his Indian policy.

He formally proposed removal to the Congress in his first message. The reaction startled him. It generated a storm of protest whose intensity and power caught him completely off guard. Directed by the American Board of Commissions for Foreign Affairs under the prodding of Jeremiah. Evarts, this storm descended on both the Congress and the administration. It sent cries of outrage reverberating in the House and Senate. It gained strength by its religious fervor. How could supposedly decent and civilized men send helpless Indians to certain death in the wastelands beyond the Mississippi? How could they face themselves and their families knowing they had condemned innocents to torment and destruction?

The power and suddenness of this protesting storm delighted the National Republicans. At last they could identify with popular feeling. They immediately accused the administration of betraying the Indians and the many promises given them in the past. Their accusations produced instantaneous results. Petitions opposing removal flooded into Congress.

Under the direction of the President the Democratic leaders in both houses maneuvered to ram a removal bill through Congress. The matter was appropriately sent to the respective committees on Indian affairs in the House and Senate, both of which favored the measure. Jackson had personally arranged the membership of the House committee. In addition, two Tennesseans, John Bell and Hugh Lawson White, headed the committees. As added protection the administration looked to Speaker Andrew Stevenson to break any tie votes and, as it turned out, he was required to do so on three separate occasions to save the removal bill from defeat.

On February 22, 1830, the Senate committee reported the first bill, and two days later the House committee reported the second.  Fundamentally they recommended establishing an area west of the Mississippi to be divided into enough districts to accommodate as many tribes as might choose to go west, and removing them there. The scheme also involved an exchange of land for all the tribes residing in the east.

The Indian Removal Act of 1830 authorized Jackson to carry out the policy outlined in his first message to Congress. He could exchange unorganized public land in the trans-Mississippi west for Indian land in the east. Those Indians who moved would be given perpetual title to their new land as well as compensation for improvements on their old. The cost of their removal would be absorbed by the federal government. They would also be given assistance for their "support and subsistence" for the first year after removal. An appropriation of $500,000 was authorized to carry out
these provisions.

This monumental piece of legislation spelled the doom of the American Indian. It was harsh, arrogant, racist--and inevitable. It was too late to acknowledge any rights for the Indians.  As Frelinghuysen remarked, all the white man had ever said to the Indian from the moment they first came into contact was "give!" Once stripped of his possessions the Indian was virtually abandoned.

Of the many significant predictions and warnings voiced during the debates in Congress that eventually came true, two deserve particular attention. One of them made a mockery of Jackson's concern for freedom.  The President insisted that the Indians would not be forced to remove.  If they wished to reside within the state they might do so but only on condition that they understood they would be subject to state law. He would never force them to remove, never compel them to surrender their lands. That high and noble sentiment as interpreted by land-greedy state officials meant absolutely nothing. Fraud and deception also accompanied the exchange of land. Jackson himself tried desperately to discourage corruption among the government agents chosen to arrange the removal, but the events as they actually transpired ran totally opposite to what he expected and promised.

The other prediction that mocked Jackson's commitment to economy was the cost of the operation. In the completed legislation the Congress had appropriated $500,000 but the actual cost of removal is incalculable. For one thing the process extended over many years and involved many tribes. Naturally some Indians resisted Jackson's will and the government was required to apply force. The resulting bloodshed and killing and the cost of these Indian wars cannot be quantified. For a political party that prized economy above almost everything else the policy of Indian removal was a radical departure from principle. Still many Democrats argued that the actual cost was a small price to pay for the enormous expanse of land that was added to the American empire. In Jackson's eight years in office seventy-odd treaties were signed and ratified, which added 100 million acres of Indian land to the public domain at a cost of roughly $68 million and 32 million acres of land west of the Mississippi River. The expense was enormous, but so was the land-grab.

Andrew Jackson has been saddled with a considerable portion of the blame for this monstrous deed. He makes an easy mark. But the, criticism is unfair if it distorts the role he actually played.  His objective was not the destruction of Indian life and culture.  Quite the contrary.  He believed that removal was the Indian¹s only salvation against certain extinction.  Nor did he despoil Indians.  He struggled to prevent fraud and corruption, and he promised there would be no coercion in winning Indian approval of his plan for removal. Yet he himself practiced a subtle kind of coercion. He told the tribes he would abandon them to the mercy of the states if they did not agree to migrate west.

The Indian problem posed a terrible dilemma and Jackson had little to gain by attempting to resolve it. He could have imitated his predecessors and done nothing. But that was not Andrew Jackson. He felt he had a duty. And when removal was accomplished he felt he had done the American people a great service. He felt he had followed the "dictates of humanity" and saved the Indians from certain death.

Not that the President was motivated by concern for the Indians-their language or customs, their culture, or anything else. Andrew Jackson was motivated principally by two considerations: first, his concern for the military safety of the US, which dictated that Indians must not occupy areas that might jeopardize the defense of this nation;  and second, his commitment to the principle that all persons residing within states are subject to the jurisdiction and laws of those states.  Under no circumstances did Indian tribes constitute sovereign entities when they occupied territory within
existing state boundaries. The quickest way to undermine the security of the
Union, he argued, was to jeopardize the sovereignty of the states by recognizing Indian tribes as a third sovereignty.

But there was a clear inconsistency-if not a contradiction-in this argument. If the tribes were not sovereign why bother to sign treaties (requiring Senate approval) for their land? Actually Jackson appreciated the inconsistency, and it bothered him. He never really approved of bargaining or negotiating with tribes. He felt that Congress should simply determine what needed to be done and then instruct the Indians to conform to it. Congress can "occupy and possess" any part of Indian territory, he once said, "whenever the safety, interest or defense of the country" dictated. But as President, Jackson could not simply set aside the practice and tradition of generations because of a presumed contradiction. So he negotiated and signed treaties with dozens of tribes, at the same time denying that they enjoyed sovereign rights.

The reaction of the American people to Jackson's removal policy was predictable. Some were outraged, particularly the Quakers and other religious groups. Many seemed uncomfortable about it but agreed that it had to be done. Probably a larger number of Americans favored removal and applauded the President's action in settling the Indian problem once and for all. In short, there was no public outcry against it. In fact it was hardly noticed. The horror of removal with its "Trail of Tears" came much later and after Jackson had left office....

When it finally came time to talk to various Indian tribes, Jackson promised that no force would be used to compel them to consent to removal. The decision was theirs alone.  He said he understood fully their feeling about leaving the land of their birth. He knew how painful it would be to bid goodbye forever to the graves of their ancestors. But survival necessitated this move. Annihilation was the alternative.

"Old men!" he called, addressing the ancient chiefs. "Arouse to energy and lead your children to a land of promise and of peace before the Great Spirit shall call you to die." Then turning to the younger warriors, the President renewed his plea. "Young chiefs! Forget the prejudices you feel for the soil of your birth, and go to a land where you can preserve your people as a nation." It was a powerful appeal. It deeply affected the Indians.

The "great father" closed with a warning, thinly disguised: "Reject the opportunity which is now offered to obtain comfortable homes, and the time may soon pass away when such advantages as are now within your reach may again be presented." If you reject this opportunity, "call not upon your great father hereafter to relieve you of your troubles. . . ." If you choose to stay be advised that you are subject to state laws and state regulations. In a few years, he further warned, "by becoming amalgamated with the whites, your national character will be lost ... you must disappear and be forgotten."

The Indians cried out their dismay when they heard these crushing words. The President paused to let his words sink in. After a moment he began again. This calamity can be avoided, he concluded. If you are willing to remove, say so and state your terms, and my friends Major Eaton and General Coffee, who are authorized to talk to you, will "act candidly, fairly and liberally towards you."

Thus spake the "great father." After hearing him out the Chickasaws withdrew to council among themselves. His words left them shaken and morose. They needed time to talk out their concerns and fears. They needed time for reflection. Four days later they returned with their answer. They met the President, Eaton, and Coffee at the Masonic Hall. The President seated himself in the center of a square formed by the chiefs. One of the chiefs, the secretary of the delegation, approached Eaton with a sheet of paper in his hand. The chief extended his free, right hand which Eaton took and shook. Then the Major was asked to read the paper to the President. He took the sheet, turned to his superior and began:

Franklin, August 27, 1830

To our great father the president. Your red children, the chiefs and head men of the Chickasaws, have had under consideration the talk of our father. ... On the decision we this day make and declare to you and the world, depends our fate as a nation and as a people.

Father, you say that you have traveled a long way to talk to your red children. We have listened-and your words have sunk deep into our hearts. As you are about to set out for Washington city-before we shake our father's hand, perhaps with many of us for the last time-we have requested this meeting to tell you, that after sleeping upon the talk you sent us, and the talk delivered to us by our brothers, major Eaton and General. Coffee, we are now ready to enter into any treaty based upon the principles communicated to us by major Eaton and General. Coffee. Your friends and brothers.

The "great father" smiled with satisfaction. He told the chiefs how much they had gladdened his heart and how good it was to have this "talk" with them. Many of the chiefs, he said, had known him a long time, a friendship that would never be interrupted. He would remember them always. He hoped -and as he spoke the next words his voice choked with emotion-the "Great Spirit above would take care of, bless, and preserve them." Jackson was so moved by the sight of these "gentle children" that he rose from his chair and bade them all an affectionate farewell. The Chickasaws were deeply touched by this unexpected and genuine show of emotion. Suddenly, one of the principal chiefs rushed forward and grasped the President with both hands. "God bless you, my great father," he exclaimed. Then, overcome by the intensity of his feeling, the chief turned away. The President and all the other chiefs stood perfectly still, too affected to say or do anything.

The emotional level of the scene reached an excruciating pitch. The father casting out his children. Each knew his role and what was happening. The Chickasaws loved their father as dutiful children, and yet he was saying goodbye to them forever. He was, said one reporter, "by them so much beloved," still he was telling them they must leave "the land of their youth, where the bones of their fathers reposed." They were all choked dumb by their feelings.

Jackson immediately submitted the treaty to Congress when it reconvened in December, 1830, but the actual removal of the Choctaw Nation violated every principle for which Jackson stood.  From start to finish the operation was a fraud.  Corruption, theft, mismanagement, inefficiency--all contributed to the destruction of a once-great people. The Choctaws asked to be guided to their new country by General George Gibson, a man they trusted and with whom they had scouted their new home. Even this was denied them. The bureaucracy dictated another choice. So they left the "land of their fathers" filled with fear and anxiety. To make matters worse the winter of 1831-1832 was "living hell."  The elements conspired to add to their misery. The suffering was stupefying.  Those who watched the horror never forgot it. Many wept. The Indians themselves showed not a single sign of their agony.

Jackson tried to prevent this calamity but he was too far away to exercise any real control, and the temptations and opportunities for graft and corruption were too great for some agents to resist.  When he learned of the Choctaw experience and the suffering involved.  Jackson was deeply offended.  He did what he could to prevent its recurrence.  He proposed a new set of guidelines for future removals. He hoped they would reform the system and erase mismanagement and the opportunity for theft.

The experience of removal is one of the horror stories of the modern era.  Beginning with the Choctaws it decimated whole tribes. An entire race of people suffered. What it did to their lives, their culture, their language, their customs is a tragedy of truly staggering proportions. The irony is that removal was intended to prevent this calamity.  

Would it have been worse had the Indians remained in the East? Jackson thought so. He said they would "disappear and be forgotten." One thing does seem certain: the Indians would have been forced to yield to state laws and white society. Indian Nations per sue would have been obliterated and possibly Indian civilization with them.

The removal of the Chickasaw and the Choctaw tribes was just the beginning.  On March 24, 1832, the destruction of the Creek Nation was completed when the chiefs signed an agreement to remove rather than fight it out in the courts. The Seminoles accepted a provisional treaty on May 9, 1832, pending approval of the site for relocation. Thus, by the close of Jackson's first administration the Choctaws, Creeks, Chickasaws, and Seminoles had capitulated.

Of the so-called Five Civilized Tribes only the Cherokees held out.  But not for long. The Cherokees found small consolation from the courts. Their lawyer, William Wirt, sued in the Supreme Court for an injunction that would permit the Indians to remain in Georgia unmolested by state law. He argued that the Cherokees had a right to self-government as a foreign nation and that this right had long been recognized by the United States in its treaties with the Indians. He hoped to make it appear that Jackson himself was the nullifier of federal law. In effect he challenged the entire removal policy by asking for a restraining order against Georgia.

Chief Justice John Marshall in two cases,  Cherokee Nation v. Georgia and Wooster v. Georgia decided in 1832 that all the laws of Georgia dealing with the Cherokees were unconstitutional.  He issued a formal mandate two days later ordering the Georgia Superior Court to reverse its decision.

Georgia, of course, had refused to acknowledge the court's right to direct its
actions and had boycotted the judicial proceedings. The state had no intention of obeying the court's order. Since the court adjourned almost immediately after rendering its decision nothing further could be done. Jackson understood this. He knew there was nothing for him to do. "The decision of the supreme court has fell still born," he wrote John Coffee, "and they find that it cannot coerce Georgia to yield to its mandate."

It was later reported by Horace Greeley that Jackson's response to the Marshall decision was total defiance. "Well: John Marshall has made his decision: now let him enforce it!" Greeley cited George N. Briggs, a Representative from Massachusetts, as his source for the statement. The quotation certainly sounds like Jackson and many historians have chosen to believe that he said it. The fact is that Jackson did not say it because there was no reason to do so. There was nothing for him to enforce. Why, then, would he refuse an action that no one asked him to take? As he said, the decision was stillborn. The court rendered an opinion which abandoned the Indians to their inevitable fate. "It cannot coerce Georgia to yield to its mandate," said Jackson, "and I believe Ridge [leader of the Cherokee party who held out against removal] has expressed despair, and that it is better for them [the Cherokees] to treat and move."

Ultimately, the Cherokees also yielded to the President. On December 29, 1835, at New Echota a treaty was signed arranging an exchange of land. A protracted legal argument had gained the Indians a little time but nothing else. Removal now applied to all eastern Indians, not simply the southern tribes. After the Black Hawk War of 1832 Jackson responded to the demands of Americans in the northwest to send all Indians beyond the Mississippi. A hungry band of Sac and Fox Indians under the leadership of Black Hawk had recrossed the Mississippi in the spring of 1832 to find food. People on the frontier panicked and Governor John Reynolds of Illinois called out the militia and appealed to Jackson for assistance. Federal troops were immediately dispatched under Generals Winfield Scott and Henry Atkinson. A short and bloody war resulted, largely instigated by drunken militia troops, and when it ended the northwestern tribes were so demoralized that they offered little resistance to Jackson's steady pressure for their removal west of the Mississippi. The result of the Black Hawk War, said the President in his fourth message to Congress, had been very "creditable to the troops" engaged in the action. "Severe as is the lesson to the Indians," he lectured, "it was rendered necessary by their unprovoked aggressions, and it is to be hoped that its impression will be permanent and salutary."

It was useless for the Indians to resist Jackson's demands. Nearly 46,000 of them went west. Thousands died in transit. Even those under no treaty obligation to emigrate were eventually forced to remove. And the removal experiences were all pretty much like that of the Choctaws-all horrible, all rife with corruption and fraud, all disgraceful to the American nation.

The policy of removal formed an important part of Jackson's overall program of limiting federal authority and supporting states¹ rights.  Despite the accusation of increased executive authority, Jackson successfully buttressed state sovereignty and jurisdiction over all inhabitants within state boundaries.  This is a government of the people, Jackson argued, and the President is the agent of the people. The President and the Congress exercise their jurisdiction over "the people of the union. Who are the people of the union?" he asked. Then, answering his own question, he said: "all those subject to the jurisdiction of the sovereign states, none else." Indians are
also subject to the states, he went on. They are subject "to the sovereign power of the state within whose sovereign limits they reside." An "absolute independence of the Indian tribes from state authority can never bear an
intelligent investigation, and a quasi independence of state authority when located within its Territorial limits is absurd."

Ultimately Jackson's policy of removal and reorganization of the Indian service won acceptance by most Americans. The President was seen as a forceful executive who addressed one of the nation's most bedeviling problems and solved it. Even Americans who fretted over the fate of the Indians eventually went along with removal. The policy seemed enlightened and humane. It seemed rational and logical. It constituted, Americans thought, the only possible solution to the Indian problem.