-^ 
 
 
 ,\' ./> 
 
 
 < 
 
 ^ ^ 
 
 
 "t- >* 
 
 V~-'' ■> iB 
 
 % 
 
 v^ -?> 
 
 .''^'S. 
 
 •'z 
 
 ^' 
 
 
 ,\ 
 
 \' 
 
 Oo 
 
 oi-, ' /^^' 
 
 rj> 
 
 R 1 i 
 
 ^^ ^^ 
 
 ,0- 
 
 'a 
 
 o 
 
 ^5 -^ 
 
 
 -v 
 
 
 
 -7- 
 
 ^/^ 
 
 
 ^^ 
 
 '^ ,<^' "^,.^^^^'v 
 
 %^^ 
 
 '\^' ^ 
 
 I B 
 
 
 oc 
 
 
 
 (^ 
 
 \ 
 
 Oo^ 
 
 c ( 
 
 o^ 
 
 
 
 '^, 
 
 
 >, jf {■ , ''A 
 
 .o> 
 
 
 \ 
 
 
 
 
 ^0 
 
 
 
 ^/ 
 
 
 V 
 
 ^^. 
 
 
 
 ^y. 
 
 .0 
 
 
 A- 
 
 
 O^ 
 
 '"^ 
 
 
 ,^^ \ 
 
 
 
 cP' ^^:>v.. '^ ^ 
 
 
 Oo 
 
 
 
 x'^ 
 
 ,-^ -C' 
 
 <> , 
 
 \ 
 
 o 
 
 \\' 
 
 V>, ''/.'^%^^' 
 
 "■^ ■>■ 
 
 s 0- 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ^ "^ "^ /,- "^^ 
 
 \ 
 
 . 0) o 
 
 A- 
 
 
 ■ 0- 
 
 ,G^ 
 
 
 
 
 vV 
 
 ■> 
 
 
i 
 
 
 0^' 
 
 c 
 
 S ' 
 
 \ 
 
 
 t 
 
 
 %;. 
 
 
 
 
 ^c 
 
 
 
 
 
 / 
 
 '%^^- 
 
 
 
 % 
 
 
 
 ' ^'^■ 
 
 
 
 •A' 
 
 •/^. 
 
 
 ^' . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 . /, * •j Ni ■ \X^ ^ 
 
 ^ -^^- 
 
 ^'> x^'" 
 
 
 "\' 
 
 c\'' 
 
 
 x-^ 
 
 .f ,- 
 
 
 
 /^. 
 
 
 
 0- 
 
 o. 
 
 
 ./ I \ ■ 
 
 
 ■^c. 
 
 
 .'^■^' 
 
 
 ^^. 
 
 
 % ^.^' 
 
 
 
 '^ x 
 
 
 
 _ 
 
 \ 
 
 
 
 - 
 
 :. ^. 
 
 ■ ^ 
 
 
 • V- 
 
 
 •> 
 
 / 
 
 j^'* 
 
 
 .^ -;. 
 
 
 -^A V^ 
 
 oo' 
 
 
 \> ^ ^ * ^ ^> 
 
 V , .N „ V *0 
 
 X^^ 
 
 
 
 •->, 
 
 s^^ 
 
 
 
 v\^' 
 
 o 
 
 •':< 
 
 vV . ^ ' . -'c 
 
 
 a'^ 
 
 .^<<. 
 
 ''/ , 
 
 o 
 
 1 
 
 ,vv ^^'"t '''o. 
 
 '^J^ 
 
 
 o 
 
 .?■ 
 
 ,00 
 
GREAT SENATORS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNITED STATES FORTY YEARS AGO, 
 
 (l848 AND 1849.) 
 
 WITH 
 
 PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS AND DELINEATIONS 
 
 OF 
 
 CALHOUN. BENTON, CLAY, WEBSTER, 
 
 General Houston, Jefferson Davis, 
 
 AND OTHER 
 
 DISTINGUISHED STATESMEN OF THAT PERIOD. 
 
 
 OLIVER DYER. 
 
 OCT 281889 »i 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 ROBERT I30Mrs[H;R'S SONS, 
 
 Riiblistiers. 
 
•^1 
 
 II 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1889, 
 
 By ROBERT BONNER"S SONS, 
 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 {All Bights Eeserved.) 
 
 PRESS OF 
 
 THE NEW YORK LEDGER. 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
THE AUTHOR S PREFACE, 
 
 WHICH II K WOULD LIKK TO HAVE READ. 
 
 My main jmrposu in writing this book was 
 to tell some interesting things (which I stippose 
 nobody else can tell) abont distinguished states- 
 men who came tinder my personal observation 
 when I was a reporter in the United States 
 Senate, more than forty years ago, and of 
 whose characters I have made particular study. 
 
 For tlie benefit of persons who are not 
 familiar with the iniblic affairs and public men 
 of the past, I have found it expedient, in telling 
 those tilings which are only within my own 
 personal knowledge, to relate other things 
 which are within the information of every 
 student of our history ; and the well-informed 
 critic may think that in some cases I have been 
 too particular in relating what is so familiar to 
 
 [31 
 
4 PREFACE. 
 
 him, he supposes everybody must be acquainted 
 with it. But I have had experiences in lectur- 
 ing during the last twenty years on the subjects 
 discussed in this book, which teach me that in 
 writing for the people at large, one cannot be 
 too particular or too plain, nor too repetitive as 
 to names and dates. As an indication of the 
 correctness of my views on this point, I will 
 mention that a few years ago I lectured on Cal- 
 houn, Benton, Clay and Webster in a neighboring 
 city, and the next day, one of the reporters who 
 were present, informed the readers of the paper 
 by which he was employed that '^ Calhoun was 
 a forgotten member of Congress from Missouri," 
 and that '^ Benton was a half -civilized old 
 buffer from the hill country of North Carolina." 
 Wherever I have lectured on the subjects set 
 forth in this voluiue it has occasioned surprise 
 that I (an abolitionist so long as slavery existed, 
 and a Eepublican who quadriennially put on 
 the bloody-shirt as long as that ensanguined 
 underwear was in political vogue) should 
 speak so kindly, and in some respects eulogisti- 
 cally, of John C. Calhoun and Jefferson Davis. 
 As to that, I will only say that I spoke of those 
 
PREFACE. 5 
 
 gentlemen in my lectures, and have written of 
 them in this hook, as I found them ; and it is 
 pleasant to rememher that wherever I thus 
 spoke of them in my lectures, my remarks 
 were generously applauded. 
 
 In the first chapter of this work I have 
 given a detailed account of the movement by 
 which Henry Clay was defeated and Geneial 
 Taylor nominated in the Whig National Con- 
 vention of 18-1:8, and of the subsequent political 
 strategy and management which led to Taylor's 
 election ; because the details of the movement 
 are interesting and instructive, and (until now) 
 have never been made known. I supposed and 
 hoped that Thurlow Weed would give a full 
 account of that movement in his autobiography ; 
 he could have written a chapter on it that would 
 have gone blazing down the century ; but, in 
 accordance with his nature and the habits of his 
 life, he repressed his feelings, sui)2)ressed his 
 information, and withheld his hand. Ambitious 
 politicians can learn something to their advan- 
 tage by reading the account of the way in which 
 William H. Seward and Thurlow Weed con- 
 ducted that campaign ; and veteran statesmen 
 
6 PREFACE. 
 
 will doubtless follow the movements of those 
 two consummate masters of political strategy 
 with interest, and perhaps with delight. 
 
 I have kept the materials for this volume by 
 me, in phonographic short-hand notes, as long 
 as Moses kept sheep for his father-in-law in 
 Midian : forty years. 1 have always had the 
 intention of some day writing them out for 
 publication ; and now, in the hope that what I 
 have written of the illustrious personages, whose 
 characters I have sought to delineate, may be 
 interesting to their countrymen and useful to 
 other writers, I send forth this little book to 
 the consideration of those who may chance to 
 read it. 
 
 Oliver Dyer. 
 
 Mount Vernon, N. Y. 
 Seyteiiiber^ 1889. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 CIIAPTEK r. 
 
 PRELT^rrXARY SKETCH OF INTERESTING EVENTS. 
 
 I. The Second Session of the Tiiiktietii Cox- 
 GREss, AXD Political Events Preceding It. — 
 Session began Dec. 4, 1848. Condition of i)ulitical 
 affairs and state of public feeling. Close of the Mex- 
 ican war. Acquisition of new territory. Shall it 
 come into the Union as slave or free ? Rancorous 
 bitterness engendered by the question. Fixed policy 
 of tlie South on the subject. No new free State with- 
 out a new slave State. What the abolition wits said 
 about it. What Col. Benton said about it. Wliy the 
 Mexican war was forced on. l^he AVilmot Proviso. 
 The unparalleled excitement it occasioned. Discus- 
 sion of it not ended until Lee surrendered to Grant. 
 The proviso in the Democratic, and Whig National 
 Conventions of 1848. Trampled on in the Demo- 
 cratic and smothered in the Whig Convention. Indig- 
 nation of anti-slavery Democrats and abolition Whigs. 
 Disloyalty to Henry Clay. My surprise thereat ; and 
 
 [7] 
 
g CONTENTS. 
 
 my eyes get opened very wide as to the character and 
 ways of politicians. 
 
 II. The movement that led to the defeat of 
 Henry Clay. — Manipulated by William li. Seward 
 and Thurlow Weed, of New York, Thomas Butler 
 King, of Georgia, and Truman Smith, of Connecticut, 
 Thurlow Weed chief manager. The motives for the 
 movement. The Whig party in a critical situation. 
 Singular and unexpected effect of the Mexican war 
 upon political parties. General Taylor popular with 
 the Whig rank and file, but not with the leaders. 
 Nomination of General Cass by the Democrats 
 inspires Seward .and Weed wdth hope; why it inspires 
 them with hope. The Free-soil movement. How it 
 must be managed to prevent its defeating the Whig 
 candidate. John P. Hale must be set aside as its 
 leader, and an influential Democrat put in his place. 
 Barnburners and Old Hunkers ; their deadly animos- 
 ity. General Cass ; his character ; hated by Martin 
 Van Buren ; also, the friends of Silas Wright : the 
 hopes his nomination gave to Seward and Weed. 
 A very big ^'if." How to overcome the big '^if.^' 
 
 III. Thurlow Weed ; the Secret of his Politi- 
 cal Power. — His pertinacity and sagacity. The A\- 
 han J Bve?ii?ig Journal. The New York press : Sun, 
 Herald, Tribune. The Times and The World wot jei 
 born. Reasons why the Albany Journal was then the 
 most influential newspaper in the State of New York. 
 Weed's masterly use of his power. His "^ personal 
 column. '' His mode of winning tlie personal regard 
 of promising young men. Young Frog, of Frog Hoi- 
 
CONTENTS. 9 
 
 low. Hundreds of otlier Democratic Frogs, and also 
 Whig Frogs, that had been hop^^ing tlirougli the Xew 
 York Legislature for eighteen years. Thousands of 
 Weed's personal friends, in both parties, scattered all 
 through the State, llis adroit use of their friendship. 
 His Jesuitical sympathy with the enraged Barnburners. 
 
 IV. William H. Seward. — Why the masses did 
 not perceive his iuteJlectual greatness. His wonder- 
 ful sagacity and judgment. His cultivation of the 
 friendship of young men and their fondness for him. 
 His use of religious belieis and the hopes of reformers. 
 His marvelous instinct as to when, how, and to whom 
 to speak on critical subjects. His gift of formulating 
 a battle-cry. He and Weed working together to defeat 
 Clay and nominate Taylor. Their profound cunning. 
 They have the co-operation of leading Jiarnburners. 
 Great Barnburner meeting in City Hall Park. Meet- 
 ing of Whig delegates at the Astor House on the same 
 day. Why the meetings were thus arranged. The 
 hand of Thurlov/ in it. Inllammatory report made 
 to the Barnburners by Churchill C. C'limbreling, John 
 A. Kennedy, Robert H. Maclay, AVilliam F. Have- 
 meyer and Samuel J. Tilden. The powerful address 
 read by David Dudley Field. How Seward and Weed 
 turned all this Barnburner o;rist into their mill. 
 
 V. The Whig National Convention of IS-tS. 
 — How Clay was defeated and Taylor nominated. 
 The adroitness and alertness of Taylor's friends ; the 
 enthusiasm and folly of Clay's. Organization of the Con- 
 vention. Sijnificant arrangement for calling the roll. 
 The first ballot. Clay's friends thunder-struck at the 
 
g CONTENTS. 
 
 my eyes get opened very wide as to the character and 
 ways of politicians. 
 
 II. The movement that led to the defeat of 
 Henry Clay. — ManipuUited by William H. Seward 
 and Thurlow Weed, of New York, Thomas Butler 
 King, of Georgia, and Truman Smith, of Connecticut. 
 Thurlow Weed chief manager. The motives for the 
 movement. The Whig party in a critical situation. 
 Singular and unexpected effect of the Mexican war 
 upon political parties. General Taylor popular with 
 the Whig rank and file, but not Avith the leaders. 
 Nomination of General Cass by the Democrats 
 inspires Seward .and Weed with hope; why it inspires 
 them with hope. The Free-soil movement. How it 
 must be managed to prevent its defeating the AVhig 
 candidate. John P. Hale must be set aside as its 
 leader, and an influential Democrat put in his place. 
 Barnburners and Old Hunkers ; their deadly animos- 
 ity. General Cass ; his character ; hated by Martin 
 Van Buren ; also, the friends of Silas Wright : the 
 hopes his nomination gave to Seward and Weed. 
 A very big ^^if."^ How to overcome the big '^if." 
 
 III. Thurlow Weed ; the Secret of his Politi- 
 cal Power. — Hts pertinacity and sagacity. The Al- 
 bany Evening Journal. The New York press : 8un, 
 Herald, Tribune. Tlie Times and The World i^ot yet 
 born. Reasons why the Albany Journal was then the 
 most influential newspaper in the State of New York. 
 Weed's masterly use of liis power. His " personal 
 column. '^ His mode of winning tlie personal regard 
 of promising young men. Young Frog, of Frog Hoi- 
 
CONTENTS. 9 
 
 low. Hundreds of other Democratic Frogs, and also 
 Whig Frogs, that had been hopping througli the New 
 York Legishiture for eighteen years. Tliousands of 
 Weed's personal friends, in both parties, scattered all 
 through the State. His adroit use of their friendship. 
 His Jesuitical sympathy with the enraged Barnburners. 
 
 IV. William H. Seuakd. — Why the masses did 
 not perceive his inteJlectual greatness. His wonder- 
 ful sagacity and judgment. His cultivation of the 
 friendship of young men ar.d their fondness for him. 
 His use of religious beliefs and the hopes of reformers. 
 His marvelous instinct as to wjien, how, and to whom 
 to speak on critical subjects. His gift of formulating 
 a battle-cry. He and Weed working together to defeat 
 Clay and nominate Taylor. Tlu'ir })rofound cunning. 
 'J'hey have the co-operalion of leading Barnburners. 
 (Jreat Barnburner meeting in City Hall Park. Meet- 
 V]<^ of Wliiir deleirates at the Astor House on the same 
 day. Why the meetings were thus arranged. The 
 hand of Thurlow in it. Inllammatory report made 
 to the Barnburners by Churchill C. Cambreling, John 
 A. Kennedy, Robert H. Maclay, William F, Ilave- 
 meyer and Samuel J. Tilden. The powerful address 
 read by David Dudley Field. How Seward and Weed 
 lurned all this Barnburner iijrist into th( ir mill. 
 
 V. TiiK Wniu National (Jonvextiox of IS-iS. 
 — How Clay was defeated and Taylor nominated. 
 The adroitness and alertness of Taylor's friends ; the 
 enthusiasm and folly of Clay's. Organization of the Con- 
 vention. Significant arrangement for calling the I'oU. 
 The first ballot. Clay's friends thunder-struck at the 
 
XO CONTENTS. 
 
 result. Cries of ''Treachery." Taylor ahead. Second 
 ballot still worse for Clay and better for Taylor. Wily 
 conduct of Truman Smith. Opponents of Taylor 
 alarmed ; they make and carry a motion to adjourn. 
 Folly of Clay's friends. Wisdom of Taylor's friends. 
 Third day of the Convention. Intense but subdued 
 excitement. Third ballot. Truman Smith shows 
 his hand and sounds the knell of Henry Clay. 
 Emphatic response of the Taylor men. Taylor gets 
 133 votes and Clay only 74. A Avild and stormy 
 scene. Horace Greeley and James A¥atson Webb. 
 Taylor nominated on the fourth ballot. Wrath of the 
 Clay men. They swear they will go home and do all 
 they can to defeat the nomination. ^Yho shall be 
 nominated for Vice-President ? Abbot Lawrence 
 thrown overboard. Millard Fillmore nominated to 
 placate the anti-slavery delegates. But it won't do. 
 Alarming disaffection. Horace Greeley starts for 
 home "across New Jersey, afoot and alone." Heiiry 
 J. Raymond's scorn and hatred of Greeley. Failure 
 of the Whig ratification meeting in Pliiladel23hia. 
 The ticket unpopular in the I\^orth, East and West. 
 Only hope of electing Taylor founded on the hope that 
 Van Buren will lead the Free-soil movement. The Barn- 
 burners nominate him at Utica, and he declines. 
 Seward and Weed to the rescue. 
 
 VI. Martin Van Buren, — A greater and better 
 man than lie was supposed to be. My first meeting 
 with him; Clay present also. Comparison and 
 contrast of the two great rivals. VanBuren's great 
 intellectual power, his elegant manners, his wonderful 
 
CO^^TENTS. li 
 
 self-possession . Ilis character analyzed and stated. 
 AVliy he was not a great orator. His capacity for 
 avenging wrong.s. His tenacity of i)urpose. His chaf- 
 ing under {Southern lead. The tyranny of Southern 
 leaders; what Daniel Webster said about it ; the South 
 proud of it. Van IJuren resolved on revolt and* venge- 
 ance. Seward andWeed understand him. They form 
 an alliance with Benjamin F. Butler, of New York, a 
 distiniiuished democrat and Van Ikireii's most trusted 
 friend. A possible way of bringing Van Buren tu the 
 front as the leader uf the great auti-shivery l)olt. 
 
 VII. The Fiip:e-soil National Convextiox at 
 Buffalo.— John P. Hale the favorite of the Con- 
 vention. Danger of his nomination as the Free-soil 
 candidate for the Presidency. Van Buren's discourag- 
 ing letter. Hale's friends Fanguine. They make the 
 same mistake ihat Clay's friends made at Philadelphia. 
 Butler's masterly tactics in heading off Hale's 
 nomination. The Committee on nominations. Butler 
 controls the committee, A searching question fi'om an 
 inquisitive committeonKin. "^'Damn his [Van Buren's] 
 cabbages and turnipsi what does he say about abolition 
 of slavery in the Deestrick of Coluniby?'' Butler's 
 triumphant reply. Van Buren nominated, and accepts. 
 Charles Francis Adams nominated for Vice-President, 
 and accepts. Rousing jdatforni adopted. The Free- 
 soiler's battle-cry: '^No more slave States, and no 
 slave territory." 
 
 VIII. The Triangular fight for the Presi- 
 dency, and the effect of its result upon 
 PUBLIC feeling in WASHINGTON. — Dcspondency 
 
12 CONTENTS. 
 
 of the Whigs at the beginning of the campaign. Clay 
 comes to the rescue. Daniel Webster enters the fight. 
 So does Horace Greeley. The result depends on the 
 vote of New York. Van Buren is so popular that he 
 draws otf votes enough from Cass to give New York 
 to Taylor, and ''Old Zach'' is elected President. 
 Animosities engendered by the bitter contest are trans- 
 ferred to Washington. Irritation of the South ; also 
 of the North. Agitating rumors; mobs; apprehensions 
 of leading statesmen 33 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 GENERAL HOUSTON.— JEFFERSON DAVIS.— JOHN P. 
 HALE.— STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS.— SIMON CAM- 
 ERON.— HANNIBAL HAMLIN.- ALEX- 
 ANDER H. STEPHENS. 
 
 I. General Sam Houston. — Thirty States and 
 sixty Senators in 1848. Only two of the Senators now 
 living — Hannibal Hamlin, of Maine, and Jefferson 
 Davis, of Mississippi. Four great Senators — Calhoun, 
 Benton, Clay and Webster — of whom I intend to write 
 particularly. Other Senators worthy of notice. Gen- 
 eral Houston. The romance which encircled his 
 name. His boyhood. His early popularity. His 
 brilliant career. Elected Governor of Tennessee 
 when thirty-four years old. Marries a beautiful girl. 
 A harrowing discovery. Resigns his governorship and 
 
CONTENTS. 13 
 
 disappeiirs from civilization. Reason for liis course. 
 Bt'CoQies 11 chief of the Ciierokees. Goes to Texas 
 and is made commandor-in-chief of her army. De- 
 feats and captures Santa Anna. Texas annexed to 
 the United States and Houston becomes a United 
 States Senator. Interest felt in General Houston forty 
 years ago. Tragic circumstances of the Texan war of in- 
 dependence then fresh in the public mind. Iltroisni of 
 the defeijders of the Alamo. Kubust religion on the 
 Niagara frontier. How we i)rayed for vengeance on the 
 Mexicans. News of the massacre of Colonel Fannin and 
 his men at Goliad. 'J'remendous excitement. reo])le 
 aroused to madness. Company of boys formed to-march 
 down and ravage Mexico. News comes of Houston's 
 victory over Santa Anna, and the bovs stay at home. 
 Houston a popular hero. My first sight of him. His 
 l)ersonal appearance. His style of dress. His jier- 
 sonal habits. Not fitted to shine in a parliamentary 
 body. Whittling was his principal employment in the 
 Senate. His impatience with long-winded speakei"s. 
 His devotion to lady friends. Would have had a Cab- 
 inet of women if he had l)een President. A lonelv, 
 melancholy man ; and no wonder, if the tragic story 
 of his early life was true. His patiiotism. His 
 death. 
 
 II. Jefferson^ Davts. — He was forty years old 
 in 1848. Was General 'J'aylor's son-in-law. His 
 lameness from a wound received a li-ttle while before. 
 Was a ])opular hero. His gidlantry at the battle of 
 Buena Vista. General Taylor's isolated condition at 
 Buena Vista. Terrible apprehensions as to his fate. 
 
1 4 CONTENTS. 
 
 No news of him attainable. Santa Anna rushing 
 upon him with an overwhelming force. Inexpressible 
 public anxiety. The ear of the nation turned to Buena 
 Vista in an agony of suspense. News at last. A des- 
 perate fight and a great victory. A wild revel of pub- 
 lic rejoiciug. The whole country breaks out into illum- 
 inations. Glowing accounts of the gallantry and skill of 
 Colouel Jefferson Davis, of the First Mississippi Vol- 
 unteers. He holds a vital poiut against six times his 
 force. Frightfully wounded and ordered to quit the 
 field. But he won't go. Has his wound dressed 
 while sitting in his saddle and holds on. The desper- 
 ate charge of the Mexican cavalry upon the Mississip- 
 pians. Colonel Davis forms them into a V. The 
 Mexicans ride in and are blown from their saddles. 
 That ends it. Mr. Davis's personal appearance and 
 be:iring. His style and ability as a debater. His 
 kindness of heart and his courtesy to everybody. He 
 wins my affection and keeps it, although I was a hot- 
 hearted young abolitionist and detested his political 
 principles. My grateful feelings towards him after 
 forty years. 
 
 III. John" P. Hale. — The first man elected 
 United States Senator on a square anti-slavery issue. 
 Repoi't that his life was threatened. Futile attem])t to 
 browbeat him into silence. What the Methodist Min- 
 ister from New Hampshire said about Hale. Hale's 
 courage, his good-nature, his laziness. His wit and 
 humor. His voice and style of speaking. His readi- 
 ness at repartee. Senator Foote, of Mississippi, says 
 they'd hang him if they ever caught him in that State. 
 
CONTENTS. 15 
 
 Tliilo's good-iiatarjcl anil witty i"oply- His final popu- 
 larity with tlie majority of iiis Senatorial colleagues. 
 
 IV. Stepiikx a. Douolas. — Had been but a 
 little while in che Senate, in 1848. Already taking 
 high rank as a debater. His fine voice and impressive 
 manner. Called " The little giant," but not a little 
 man. Short of stature but large in body. His large, 
 linely-developed head. His urbane, but simple and 
 democratic manner in social intercourse. Not an 
 atom of pi-etcnse about him. Ifis fondness for young 
 men, ami theii- alfection for him. His winning man- 
 ner with reporters. Testimony of a distinguished 
 friend, after Douglas' death, as to his fascinating per- 
 sonal intercourse with young men. 
 
 V. SiMox Cameron". — His knowin<xncss. His 
 physical and mental alertness. His style in debate ; 
 what .lohn V. Hale said of it. He brings on the first 
 debate <d" the session, l^ a iVnnsvlvania Tariff Deni- 
 ocrat. Exasperates his Democratic brethren by at- 
 tacking their free-trade policy. Senator Hale's hu- 
 morous remarks. The Whig Senators enjoy the quar- 
 rel. Why the reporters were grateful to Cameron for 
 bringing on the debate. The system of reporting. 
 Dissatisfaction of Senators. Resolution to abolish or 
 modify the system. Cameron stands by the reporters 
 and they all like him. His faithfulness to friends, 
 llis plnck and grit. A memorable occasion on Avhicli 
 they were displayed. His i)ersonal collision with Sen- 
 ator Foote. What General Houston said al)out it. 
 His i)opularity. Indiscreet expressions of admiration 
 by some of his friends. 
 
16 CONTENTS. 
 
 yj. Hai^n-ibal Hamlin. — He is the younoost of 
 the two survivors of the sixt}^ Seuiitors of 1848. 
 When he, Jefferson Davis and Cameron were respec- 
 tively born. His distinguished career. Seldom took 
 part in debate. My meagre observation of him. Two 
 convictions which Hamlin's appearance impressed upon 
 me, as to his honesty and integrity, and as to his geni- 
 ality and agreeableness as a comp.-inion. 
 
 VII. Alexander H. Stephens. — An Incident 
 at Judge McLean's. — A k^sson in phonography to 
 distinguished people. Master Muri)hy's exhibition of 
 skill in rapid writing. Mr. Stephens objects to having 
 the Declaration of Independence read to Murphy, be- 
 cause he (Stephens) when he was as old as Murphy (14 
 years,) knew it and the Constitution of the United 
 States by heart. Hon. Thomas Ewing thinks tliat 
 Stephens must have been a very precocious boy. 
 Stephens says that he was not precocious, nnd that all 
 his school-fellows were equally familiar with the Declara- 
 tion and the Constitution. Smart boys down in Georgia. 
 According to Calhoun, South Carolina bo3^s were 
 scholastically brought up in a totally different way. . . 110 
 
CONTENTS. 17 
 
 CILVrTER III. 
 JOHN C. CALHOUN. 
 
 T. TIow Calhoun was looked upon in the 
 NoKTir. — My own hostile feelings towiirds him. My 
 first view of him in the Senate. His appearance per- 
 fectly ^satisfactory. lie looked like un embodiment 
 of the devil. His personal ai»pt'arance. The first 
 time I heard him in debate. That everlasting Wilmot 
 Proviso comes np from an nnexpected quarter. It 
 brings Calhoun to hi.s feet. lie denounces the petition 
 containing the Proviso. Ilis elegant, winning, con- 
 vincing manner. His charming voice. Benton 
 replies ferociously and exasperatingly. A heated 
 debate. Ciilhoun maintains his high-toned and 
 captivating manner to its close. My change of feeling 
 towards him. T begin to like him. I (hjii't like my 
 liking him. I think it is traitorous to my abolition 
 principles, but as time goes on I like him better and 
 better, in spite of all I can do. 
 
 II. .V New Yeau's call on Calhoun; the 
 State Rights doctkixe fuom his owx lips. — I call, 
 at Mr. Calhoun's request, to explain the then new sys- 
 tem of phonographic writing to him. His interest in 
 the system and in Master Murphy's exhibitions of rapid 
 writing. He talks about reporting. One mistake 
 which reporters constantly made in reporting his 
 speeches. They represented him as saying " this 
 
IS CONTENTS. 
 
 nation '' instead of " this Union/' He never called 
 the United States a " nation/' The reason he didn't 
 call the United States a '' nation " involved the whole 
 State Rights doctrine. Subsequent interviews. Cal- 
 houn's explanation of '' Sovereignty/' His distinction 
 between sovereignty and government. The doctrine 
 of State sovereignty. Why the Union was formed. 
 Its powers and its limitations. Why a single Sfate is 
 more sovereign than the United States. The Federal 
 Government hasn't any sovereignty at all, but is the 
 mere common agent or employee of the sovereign 
 States. Under what circumstances a State has a right 
 to secede from the Union. 
 
 III. The DOCTRii>rE of secessioi^ originally 
 NOT A South Carolina but a Massachusetts 
 HERESY.— It was not originated by Calhoun, but by 
 Josiah Qumcy. First broached by Quincy in the 
 House of Representatives in January, 1811. He is 
 called to order by Poindexter, of Mississippi. Quincy 
 reduces his words to writing so there can be no mis- 
 take. The Speaker decides that he is out of order. 
 He appeals from the decision of the Speaker and the 
 House sustains his appeal by a vote of 56 to 53. 
 Calhoun did not take his seat in the House of Repre- 
 sentatives till ten months afterwards. In his first 
 report to the House, on Foreign Relations, he calls 
 the United States '' this nation," showing that he had 
 not then adopted Quincy's secession doctrine. Thirty- 
 three years afterwards, in 1844, Charles Francis 
 Adams introduces a secession and disunion resolution 
 into the Massachusetts Legislature, which is adopted. 
 
CONTENTS. 19 
 
 thus following- u]) Quiiuy's leiul. While not attempt- 
 ing to exonerate Calhoun for the consequences of his 
 political coui'se, I wish to treat the subject fairly and 
 truthfully. What is sauce for the South Carolina 
 goose is also sauce for the Massachusetts gander. 
 
 IV. Caliiou:n^'s views ox tiik Education of 
 Hoys and his opinion of (Jenkkal Jackson. — lie 
 thought Northern })eo})le all wrong as to their ideas 
 and uKjdes of educalion. Too much cultivation of 
 the mind and not enough develo[)ment of body, 
 Soutli Carolina boys trained differently from Georgia 
 boys. *'Look at that boy !" (Master Murj)hy.) 
 How South Carolina boys were trained in Calhoun's 
 time. AVhat the ultimate result of the northern sys- 
 tem of education will be. The people, though intel- 
 lectually brilliant, will have to take ;in inferior posi- 
 tion in practical alfairs. Calhoun i)robably got a 
 good deal of satisfaction out of this view of the case. 
 My question about GeneralJackson. It was an inex- 
 cusal)le blunder. Its effect on Calhoun. His reply. 
 Its signilicance ; it seemed to be a vivid revelation of 
 Calhoun's inward spirit. 
 
 Calhoun's Quarrel with GeneralJackson; 
 AND its result. — My increasing affcctiou for Calhoun, 
 and regret at his political course. His splendid careei-, 
 from his entry into public life to his ruptuie with 
 Jackson. Cause of the rupture. Jackson's high- 
 handed course in Florida in 1819. His wrath when 
 Congress censured his course. Thi-eatens to cut off 
 the ears of Congressmen. President Moni-oe asks for 
 the opinion, in writing, of the members of his Cabi- 
 
20 CONTENTS. 
 
 net. All the opinions favorable to Jackson, except 
 Calhoun's, yet Jackson somehow got the idea that 
 Calhoun was the only Cabinet officer who stood by 
 him. His gratitude to Calhoun. Calhoun elected 
 Vice-President on the Jackson ticket. In the direct 
 line of succession to the Presidency. But his opinion 
 of 1819 against Jackson, is brought to light. Old 
 Hickory^s fury. He swears eternal vengeance against 
 Calhoun ; whose hopes of future national promotion 
 are blighted. How the fatal opinion came to be 
 made known. All sorts of opinions on the subject. 
 The Peggy O'Neil or Mrs. Eaton controversy supposed 
 to have occasioned the exposure. What the Peggy 
 O'Neil scandal was. General Jackson involved in a 
 war with a coterie of aristocratic ladies. The ladies 
 more than a match for Old Hickory. He is beaten, 
 the only time in his life. It is thought that this con- 
 troversy occasioned the divulgation of Calhoun's Cab- 
 inet opinion. Some charge the exposure u^^on Van 
 Buren ; others, upon Crawford, of Georgia. Effect of 
 the divulgation of the opinion, and the rupture with 
 Jackson, upon Calhoun, His new departure as to 
 slavery. The South follows his lead. Henry Clay's 
 reply to one of Calhoun^'s points. 
 
 VI. Calhoun's fascination in Personal inter- 
 course. — His conversational poweis. His voice. His 
 enunciation. The simplicity of his manners. Clear- 
 ness of his ideas. Harriet Martineau's singular dec- 
 laration about him. From what her supposition 
 probably arose. Calhoun's kindness of heart. His 
 moral and spiritual purity. His urbanity, refine- 
 
CONTENTS. 21 
 
 ment, gentleness, winsomeness, strength and manli- 
 ness. His beantiful nature mirrored in his face. 
 His morning greeting like a benediction that lasted 
 the whole day. His unsatisfactory political life. 
 The sweetness and felicity of his social life. His last 
 days. — The advantage to me of my early acquaintance 
 with Calhoun and Jefferson Davis 147 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 THOMAS II. BENTON. 
 
 I. Benton's hatkp:d of Caliioux. — Benton 
 called the Great Missourian ; Calhoun, the Great 
 South Carolinian. The two men contrasted. Why 
 Benton hated Calhoun. 
 
 II. How to estimate character. — The two 
 factors — Heredity and Environment — in the formation 
 of character. Heredity can only be developed, not 
 changed. Tragic incident illustrating this truth. A 
 vegetarian bear. Trying to change a bear from a 
 carnivorous to a herbivorous animal. The tragic 
 result. What are considered unaccountable develop- 
 ments of character explainable by the doctrine - of 
 heredity. 
 
 III. Benton's character. — His heredity. It 
 had characteristics of the bear, the bull and the eagle. 
 Mentally and politically a Roman Senator ; in 
 physique and temper a Roman gladiator. His 
 wonderful body and his wonderful head. His courage 
 and his cunning. His perception, his firmness and 
 
22 CONTENTS. 
 
 his self-esteem. His head ran up to a peak like the 
 island of Teneriffe. His wonderfu-1 combination of 
 mental, physical and moral qualities. His environ- 
 ment. From boyhood, and during the first half of 
 his life, it was such as to bring his hereditary traits to 
 a full development. Fighting Indians, wild beasts 
 and half-civilized neighbors. Street fight with 
 General Jackson in Nashville. Goes to Missouri. 
 Fights continue. What Benton said about his fights ; 
 they were followed by funerals. Elected United 
 States Senator. His character then fixed ; what it 
 was. How it is to be judged. His singular habit of 
 bathing. ^' The Eoman gladiators did it, sir." His 
 skin had become a sheath of leather. He was in 
 every sense the thickest-skinned man of his time. 
 
 IV. Benton's chakacteristics as a debater. — 
 His seeming indifference to praise or blame. His capa- 
 city for wrath. Most dangerous in debate when most 
 angry. His wit and sarcasm. His power of torturing 
 an opponent. His singular and formidable use of the 
 word ^* sir." His amusing and effective mode of 
 repeating phrases with slight variations. A memor- 
 able instance of that practice. His knowledge of the 
 resources of the country. His power in all questions 
 relating to material and practical affairs. Not 
 eloquent, hut interesting. The old Indian-fighter 
 apparent in his manner. His discursive mode of 
 speaking. Looking for scalps in by-paths of animad- 
 version. His habit of expunging extraneous matter 
 from his speeches after the reporters had written them 
 out. Would cut his speeches down from a-half to 
 
CONTENTS. 23 
 
 two-thirds. The reporters, being paid by the column, 
 diun^t like such ruthless curtailments. 
 
 V. Bextox's Egotism. — The most marked feature 
 of his character. Yet not at all offensive ; on the 
 contrary, agreeable. It was recognized as a fitting 
 apex to his pyramidal character. It pervaded every- 
 thing he said or did. Anecdotes illustrating his 
 egotism. General Jackson and the United States 
 Bank ; publication of his *' Thirty Years in the 
 United States Senate." His absurdly high opinion of 
 the public estimation and the popularity of his 
 writings, si)ceches and Congressional rejiorts. More 
 anecdotes. '*An American kneels only to God and 
 woman, sir." " T-r-u-s-ten Polk I" ''You lie, sir. 
 I cram the lie down your throat, sir." " AVhen God 
 Almighty lays his hand upon a man, sir, I take mine 
 off, sir." 
 
 VI. The Better side of Benton's Cuarac- 
 TER. — His patriotism. His high sense of public duty. 
 His honesty. His friendship for the poor — })oor 
 blacks as well as poor whites. His protection of frontier- 
 men and pioneers. His fidelity to his family and his 
 friends. Touching anecdote about his wif(.',showing his 
 affectionate and chivalric devotion to her. His death. 
 Clinracteristic conduct as the breath faded from his 
 iron lips 190 
 
24 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 HENRY CLAY. 
 
 I. Some of Clay's distinguishing character 
 iSTics. — His height. His brilliancy and his chivalry. 
 His phenomenal popularity and the reason of it. His 
 rare combination of attractive qualities. His captivat- 
 ing manners. His marvelous memory. His kindness 
 of heart. His genuine interest in the welfare of his 
 fellow-citizens. His intense patriotism. The great 
 champion of American industry. His interest in all 
 kinds of industrial pursuits and in the people engaged 
 in them. 
 
 II. Leading characteristic of his mind ; his 
 ORATORY. — Penetration the loading characteristic of 
 his mind. His great powers of perception. His man- 
 ner in debate. His wonderful voice. His animation 
 and vehemence. His speaking countenance. A great 
 soul on fire. The effect of his oratory enhanced by 
 the peculiar conformation of his forehead. Sometimes 
 seemed to be rising in the air and taking the audience 
 along with him. AVhat an old lady said about the ef- 
 fect of his oratory. The secret of all this. Clay's 
 unique and unmatchable heredity. His physical 
 structure. His vital force. His strenuous blood. How 
 he came to pass, in his totality, and what the net re- 
 sult of it all was. His honesty. *^^I'd rather be right 
 than be President." His first solicitude was for his 
 
CONTENTS. 25 
 
 principles ; his second, for his friends ; his last, for him- 
 self. His industry ; his simplicity of life. The peo- 
 ple believed in him, and all these things helped his 
 oratory. Ilis ''' looking countenance." The clearness 
 and simplicity of his style. Clay's speeches are not 
 read now. It is for the same reason that a lovers 
 speeches are not read. They are made for the occa- 
 sion and not for future ages. Clay spoke to win his 
 cause right there and tlien and was content with his 
 immediate success. Clay's felicitous style of telling 
 an anecdote. One of his favorite stories. 
 
 III. Clay's CHIEF FAULT in debate. — A notable 
 instance of its exhibition. His collision with Cal- 
 houn. Their estrangement for years. Their touch- 
 ing reconciliation. A memorable scene. The per- 
 sonal manner of the two great Senatorial veterans 
 contrasted. 
 
 IV. The way in wnirii the four cjueat Sen- 
 ators — Calhoun, Benton, Clay and Webster — 
 re(.'eived strangers who w^ere introduced to 
 THEM. — The custom of introducing strangers to the 
 *'(}reat Four," by members of Congress. Form of 
 introduction. Calhoun's way of receiving a stranger. 
 Benton's way. His overwhelming and imperious gra- 
 ciousness frightens a stranger. Webster's manner : 
 Cold, ungracious and offensive. He made enemies by 
 it. Clay's manner : affable, captivating and full of tact 
 and good-fellowship. Made fi'iends of the introducers 
 and the })ersons introduced. 
 
 V. Tom Marshall's anecdote. — How the law 
 lirm of Breckenridge & Marshall gravitated to the head 
 
26 CONTENTS. 
 
 of the Kentucky b;ir, with only one exception, and that 
 exception was Henry Clay. How they longed to en- 
 counter Clay, so as to put an end to the one exception 
 to their leadership. They watch for an opportunity 
 and find it. How they supposed they had " laid out'^ 
 Clay forever. But they were mistaken. How the old 
 lion drove Marshall to the bottle and Breckenridge to 
 the Bible with one swoop of his paw. 
 
 VI. Clay's felicity in" exordium. — A notable 
 example. A sketch leading up to the occasion. His 
 retiracy from the Senate in 1842. His renson for re- 
 tiring. Treachery of the "Tyler Whigs." Clay's 
 intolerable position. He Avas missed as soon as he re- 
 tired. The people wanted him back. Clay's poverty. 
 The old man goes home to Lexington, Kentucky, and 
 resumes the practice of law to earn his daily bread. 
 The spectacle touches the heart of the nation. The 
 rank and file of the Whig party clamor for his nomi- 
 nation for the Presidency in 1844. His enemies 
 alarmed. They set to work to kill him off. A con- 
 certed svstem of defamation. He announces that he 
 will meet his fellow-citizens at Lexington and reply to 
 his defamers. A great multitude assembles to hear 
 him. The composition of the audience. Clay's open- 
 ing remarks set the people wild. G-reat excitement. 
 Enemies of Henry Clay looked for, but luckily none 
 were found. His great speech and its great effect. He 
 is nominated for the Presidency by acclamation in '44. 
 A great campaign and a great defeat. A Whig poet's 
 lamentation. The cause of Clay's defeat. His elec- 
 tion to the Presidency omitted from the great pro- 
 
CONTENTS. 27 
 
 gninime of events ^hat was prepared for the United 
 States by the hand of God 218 
 
 CHAPTER YL 
 DxYNTEL WEBSTER. 
 
 I. The godlike Daniel. — His intellectual supe- 
 riority over all rivals. His personal appearance ; his 
 phenomenal head ; his brow; his eyes ; his forehead ; 
 his majestic personality ; his voice ; his power of 
 miignifying a word; his hair; his complexion. The 
 overwhelming atmosphere and sense of power which 
 emanated from and surrounded him. 
 
 II. His first appearaxce (of the session) in 
 THE Senate chamber. — How I knew it was Webster. 
 His reception by the Senate. The attention and 
 respect always paid to him. No other Senator list- 
 ened to as he was. His miserable health. His ap- 
 jiearance and reception whenever he arose to address 
 the Senate ; perfect description of him from Para- 
 dise Lost. 
 
 III. Webster's mental make-up. — The most won- 
 derful ever known on the American continent. The 
 operations of his perceptive and reflective faculties. 
 His imagination. His veneration. Some things in 
 which he was unrivalled. What is necessary in order 
 to understand Webster's greatness. Aggregation of 
 inferiority cannot produce superiority. Illustrated 
 by the speed of the famous race-horse Eclipse. His 
 
^8 CONTENTS. 
 
 body large enough to support his brain. His temper- 
 aments. Their admirable correlation with his whole 
 physical organism. The wonderful mental result of 
 all this. Webster^s irresistible logical power. His 
 subtlety never understood or appreciated. Applica- 
 tion of Sir Walter Scott's anecdote of Richard Coeur 
 de Lion and Saladin. Crowning attributes of Web- 
 ster's mind. His eloquence. His vast common sense. 
 His power of concentration and demonstration. Pecu- 
 liar quality of his condensation. Quintilian's *' Insti- 
 tutes of Oiatory.'' Webster's oratory came up to all 
 the requirements of the old Roman. His exordium. 
 His statement of fact. The conclusiveness of his 
 argument. No use for any one to reply. Application 
 to Webster of Quintilian's characterization of Cicero. 
 
 IV. Webster as a parliamentary leader. — 
 A memorable instance of his skill and power. Last 
 night of the Second Session of the Thirtieth Congress. 
 The session supposed to expire at midnight. Two 
 important bills — the Civil and Diplomatic Appropia- 
 tion bill, and the bill establishing the Department of 
 the Interior — to be passed, both loaded dow^n with 
 Senatorial amendments. Discussions on the Interior 
 Department bill. Calhoun's State-rights argument. 
 Webster's reply. Webster powerfully assisted by Sen- 
 ator Davis, of Mississippi. Hour of midnight strikes 
 and many Senators hold that the session has termina- 
 ted. Other Senators say the great Appropiation bill 
 must be passed, or the Government can't go on, unless 
 the incoming Piesident (General Taylor) calls an 
 extra session of Congress. Others reply that it is no use 
 
CONTENTS. 29 
 
 to try to pass the bill, the House of Representatives 
 having amended the Senate's California amendment, 
 there is no possibility of breaking the dead-lock. Ben- 
 ton, Cass, Calhoun and other Senators sit silent, as they 
 liold that the session of the Senate has expired. 
 WeT^ster comes to the rescue. He first settles the 
 question as to the session of the Senate. It must 
 continue, until the Appropriation bill is jmssed with- 
 out regard to c-1-o-c-k-s. Etfect of his uttei-ance of 
 the word clocks. He convinces the majority of the 
 Senators that the Senate is in lawful session. The 
 debate on the bill goes on. Scenes of indescribable 
 confusion. Amendments piled ui)on amendments. 
 *'Tlie House that Jack Built." A motion to adjourn 
 sine die. AVebster defeats it. ''The President of the 
 United States has gone iiome." AVebster's reply to 
 the announcement. Senator Foote's intolerable ver- 
 bosity. He is hissed. He is groaned at. His mag- 
 niloquent declaration. Webster comes to the rescue 
 of the Aii})ropriation bill. His mastery on every 
 point. His art ; his humor; his good nature; his 
 tact ; his crushing logic; ; his superior dialectic adroit- 
 ness ; his sarcasm ; his soothing flattery ; his per- 
 suasiveness ; his common sense ; his knowledge of 
 human nature; his terrific power; his good-nature 
 under interruptions ; his thundering response to one 
 of Senator Foote's interru^jtions \ the effect on Foote. 
 Webster's constant progress toward victory ; his final 
 triumi)h ; the Senatorial amendment is receded from, 
 and the Appropiation bill passed. The Senate 
 adjourns at 7 o'clock Sunday morning. Inadequacy 
 
30 CONTENTS. 
 
 of the printed report to give anything like a just 
 idea of the scene, or of Webster's power. 
 
 V. Other characteristics. — General acknowl- 
 edgement of Webster's intellectual power ; also, of 
 certain of his defects. What those defects were, and 
 the effect of them. Perhaps it was fortunate for tlie 
 country that he had such defects. His incomputable 
 service to the country. He won the battle for the 
 Union in the Senate, and thus prepared the way for 
 our armies to win the battles for it in the field. 
 
 VI. An occasion when Webster avas enraged. 
 — Butler's (of South Carolina) assertion of the bad 
 faith of the Northern States. He says they always 
 broke the compromises as soon as they could see a 
 chance to make money by doing so. Therefore he 
 was sick at heart of the word compromise. He 
 denounces the North. When Butler sits down, Web- 
 ster is seen to be getting up. His getting up not 
 merely an act ; it is a processs. He is enrnged. His 
 magnificent appearance ; intense excitement. Web- 
 ster's opening sentences. *^ He will find in me a 
 COMBATANT on that question !" Senator Mangum 
 said the word combatant weighed about forty tons. 
 AYebster's overwhelming presence. Butler attemi)ts 
 to respond, but is restrained by his friends. Calhoun 
 to the rescue. Turns the discussion upon constitu- 
 tional points. Webster misses a great op23ortunity. 
 Deluded by the South, with the lure of their support 
 of him for the Presidency in 1852. Makes his 7th of 
 March speech. Is cast aside by the South and their 
 Northern allies in '52. Dies in October of that year. 
 
CONTENTS. 31 
 
 going down to bis grave under a hcart-crusliing load 
 of disappointed ambition and i)olitical despair. 
 
 VII. Source of his political despair. — His 
 passionate love of tbe Union. His incomparable political 
 insight and foresight. He saw clearly into the govern- 
 ing principles of things, and he saw clear to tbe bottom. 
 His Plymouth Rock oration (1820) furnishes ammu- 
 nition for the anti-monopolists of tbe present day. His 
 remarkable veneration. Its effect upon his character, 
 his affections and his mental o])erations. Its effect 
 upon his patriotism. He loved the Union and under- 
 stood its incomputable imi)ortance. He valued it 
 above everything else. Abraham Lincoln did the 
 same. Extract from Lincoln's reply to Horace Gree- 
 ley's open letter addressed to him in August, 1802. No 
 use for persons who do not understand these attributes 
 of Webster's mind to attempt to sit in judgment on 
 his political course. Events justilieil Webster. Sew- 
 ard, Chase, and other alarmed anti-slavery statesmen 
 voted in Congress, in 18G1, for measures that Webster 
 was hounded to his grave for advocating in 1850. His 
 eloquent prayer that he might not see the curtain of 
 disunion rise, or the ^^ gorgeous ensign of the repub- 
 lic '^ dishonored. These great men — Calhoun, Benton 
 Clay and Webster — deserve our gratitude for their 
 services to the country, and we can overlook their 
 errors. — Benediction^ axd Farewell 251 
 
GREAT SENATORS 
 
 OF FORTY YEARS AGO (1848). 
 
 ♦♦♦- 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PRELIMINARY SKKTCH OF INTKRESTIXO EVENTS. 
 
 I. The Sp:cond Session of the Thirtieth Con- 
 gress AND Political Events Preceding it. 
 
 The second session of the Thirtieth Congress 
 hno-aii on Monday, December -ith, 1S4S. I was 
 there as a reporter, in tlie Senate, for tlie 
 National Intelligencer, which was then a widely 
 circulated and influential newspaper. 
 
 The condition of political affairs and the 
 
 state of public feeling at the beginning of the 
 
 Congressional session in 18-18, excited a good 
 
 deal of apprehension in the minds of leading 
 
 [33] 
 
34 GREA.T SENATORS. 
 
 statesmen. The Mexican war had but recently 
 closed, and we had acquired a vast stretch of 
 territory, including Arizona, Utah, Colorado, 
 Nevada, New Mexico and California. These 
 Territories were to come into the Union as 
 States ; and the question of questions in that day 
 was whether they should come in as slave States 
 or as free States ; in other words, whether 
 slavery should he confined within the limits it 
 then occupied or be extended into new territory. 
 
 It is impossil)le to bring the rancorous bitter- 
 ness which that question then excited within 
 the comprehension of people who were not liv- 
 ing and old enough to understand the general 
 course of events at that period. 
 
 It was the fixed policy of the South to keep 
 the free States from . outnumbering the slave 
 States. By this means, although in a minority 
 in the House of Eepresentatives, they w^ould 
 maintain an equality in the Senate, and thus be 
 enabled to check legislation hostile to slavery. 
 In pursuance of this policy, Florida and Iowa 
 
WAll WITH MEXICO. 35 
 
 had recently been admitted into the Union at 
 the same time (December, 18^6), by the provisions 
 of a bill coupling them together. The abolition 
 wits of the day remarked that things had come 
 to such a pass that a white baby conld not now 
 Ik; born into tlio Union unless a black one was 
 born at the same time. Colonel Benton com- 
 mont(^d on the contemporaneous admission of 
 the two States in his sol<»nm, sarcastic way, 
 ])retending thnt h(^ was unable to see why two 
 States, one of which \v;is tbe oldest and the 
 other the newest teriitory ; one in the extreme 
 north-west of the Union, tin; other in the ex- 
 treme south-east; one the land of ev(M*greens 
 .'ind i»erpetual llowers, the other the c-limate of 
 long and rigorous winter, and with nothing 
 whatever either in interest or histoi-v, or in fact 
 or in sentiment to unite them, should be cradled 
 in oiK^ bill and brought into the Union together. 
 i As there was no more territory out of which 
 slave States conld ])i-obably be made, the war 
 with Mexico was forced on for the purpose of 
 
36 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 acquiring territory into which slavery could be 
 extended. The territory had been acquired ; 
 and now (18J:8) here it was, and the contention 
 was whether it should be handed over to 
 slavery or secured to freedom. 
 
 In 1846, while the war with Mexico was 
 raging, a bill was introduced into the House of 
 Eepresentatives appropriating two million dol- 
 lars to defray the expenses of negotiating a 
 peace. The amount of the appropriation was 
 subsequently increased a million dollars, and 
 the measure became known as the three-million 
 bill. While this bill was pending in the House 
 of Representatives, David Wilmot, a Democratic 
 Eepresentative from Pennsylvania, moved to 
 amend it by adding a provision that slavery 
 should not be introduced into any of the terri- 
 tory that should be acquired from Mexico. 
 
 That little amendment at once became 
 famous as the Wilmot Proviso. It occasioned 
 a prodigious excitement in Congress, which 
 rapidly spread throughout the countr}^ It 
 
THE WILMOT PROVISO. 37 
 
 greatly embittered and exasperated tlie South, 
 as well it might, for it struck at the very life of 
 slavery, inasmuch as to limit slavery was to 
 strangle it. Besides, the adoption of such a 
 proviso would defeat the main purpose for 
 which the war with Mexico had been begun and 
 was being carried on. Hence, this fundamental 
 proviso was the reddest rag that could have 
 been waved in the face of the Southern bull, 
 and that brave, belligerent creature responded 
 to the tantalizing provocation with character- 
 istic alacrity and resolution. 
 
 After an inii)assioned and prolonged debate, 
 the proviso was carried in the House of Repre- 
 sentatives (1S4(J), but it was defeated in the 
 Senate. The next year (1847) it was defeated 
 in both Houses of Congress, after a desi)erate 
 struggle. But althongh it was killed in Con- 
 gress, it survived in the country. It was 
 acrimoniously discussed and wrangled over in 
 nearly every newspaper, in every school district, 
 at every ])olitical meeting and every fireside. 
 
38 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 In fact, it may be said that the contest pro- 
 voked by it was not ended until Eobert E. Lee 
 surrendered to Ulysses S. Grant at Apponiatox 
 Court House, on April 9th, 1S65, nineteen years 
 after David Wilmot offered his little amend- 
 ment to the three-million bill, in the House of 
 Eepresentatives. 
 
 The Wilmot Proviso came up in the 
 national conventions of 1848. In May of that 
 year, the Democratic Convention, at Baltimore, 
 which nominated General Cass for the Presi- 
 dency, trample.d on the Proviso (which was 
 introduced by Preston King, of New York), and 
 thereby offended many of the Northern, East- 
 ern and Western delegates. In the Whig Con- 
 vention, which met at Philadelphia, in June, 
 a strong effort was made by the anti-slavery 
 section of the party to nominate Henry Clay, 
 who was in favor of the Proviso, although he 
 was a Southerner and a slaveholder. But the 
 friends of Clay were defeated. How and why 
 they were defeated they did not know, and it is 
 
PLOTTING AGAINST CLAY. 39 
 
 probable that the majority of them never knew. 
 I was the official reporter of the Convention, 
 knew several of the delegates intimately, and 
 was frequently in the Committee rooms when 
 the wires were in process of adjustment. A 
 number of the delegates who were drawn into 
 the movement against Clay had rooms at the 
 Butler House, where I was then boarding, and 
 we had repeated talks about the game that was 
 going on. Hence the secret of Clay's defeat, 
 and the means by which it was accomplished, 
 became well known to me. 
 
 I vividly remember the astonishment witli 
 which I heard the supposed friends of Henry 
 Clay talk about setting him aside because they 
 had nothing to gain from his election. " His 
 political affiliations have long been fixed,'' was 
 the common remark ; "he is surrounded by 
 friends of a lifetime, and we young men have 
 nothing to ho])e from him." I was young, 
 knew but little of politicians, and was so 
 unfamiliar with their ways that I supposed 
 
40 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 men were nominated for the Presidency and 
 elected to the Presidency on purely patriotic 
 principles, and that the only motive by which 
 public men were actuated was a good, old-fash- 
 ioned love of country. 
 
 It is, perhaps, needless to say that when I 
 emerged from the seethiug turmoil and trickery 
 of the Convention, my views of public men and 
 their motives had undergone a change. I then 
 for the first time realized the truth of what I 
 had been taught by the Greek historian, that 
 under the instigation of selfishness and the con- 
 tentions of rivalry, men identify what is 
 advantageous with what is honorable, and 
 what is expedient with what is just, and while 
 simulating sentiments of friendship, maintain 
 an attitude of perfidious antagonism ; that the 
 love of power, originating in avarice and ambi- 
 tion, and the party spirit which is engendered 
 by them when men are fairly embarked in a 
 contest, render the tie of party stronger than the 
 tie of patriotism or of religion ; the seal of good 
 
PLOTTING AGAINST CLAY. 41 
 
 faith being not love of country, or the divine 
 law, but fellowship in schemes of spoliation 
 and self- aggrandisement. 
 
 II. The movement that led to the defeat of 
 
 Henky Clay. 
 
 The movement which led to Clay's defeat 
 was manipulated by four men, namely : William 
 H. Seward and Thuilow Weed, of New York ; 
 Thomas Butler King, of Georgia ; and Truman 
 Smith, of Connecticut. There were many 
 others in the game, but those four men did 
 most of the subterranean work ; Thurlow Weed 
 being both engineer and conductor of the under- 
 ground political railroad. The motives which 
 inspired Mr. Weed grew out of the political 
 situation which, from a Whig stateman's point 
 of view, was exceedingly critical. 
 
 It is well known that the annexation of 
 Texas and the Mexican war were brought about 
 by the Democrats, under Southern lead, to 
 strengthen their party by the extension of 
 
42 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 slavery, and ensure to it a perpetuity of political 
 power. But, singularly enough, the result of 
 the Mexican war had unexpectedly helped to 
 rehabilitate the demoralized Whig party, because 
 both of the great, victorious generals, Scott and 
 Taylor, were Whigs. Both of these generals 
 were talked of as candidates for the Presidency, 
 and both were popular with the people. 
 
 Taylor was universally popular as a hero, 
 and a movement in favor of his nomination to 
 the Presidency was started among the peo})le 
 several months before the meeting of the Whig 
 National Convention. This movement did not 
 seem to be favored by the politicians. The 
 Whig party had become largely anti-slavery in 
 the North, and General Taylor was a slaveholder 
 from the far South — from Louisiana, one of the 
 bitterest of the slave States. The situation was 
 so critical, and there was so slight a margin of 
 success, that a majority of the party leaders 
 felt that they could not afford to take any risk 
 whatever. Therefore the betting was in favor 
 
A DEEP GAME. 43 
 
 of Henry Clay's getting the nomination^ until 
 the Democrats nominated General Cass. Then 
 William H. Seward and Thurlow Weed saw 
 their opi)ortunity, if fortune would only favor 
 them. 
 
 In order to understand the situation and 
 comprehend why S<jward and Weed saw their 
 op])ortunity in the nomination of General Cass 
 by the Democrats, it must be borne in mind 
 that the Democratic party of the North, as well 
 as the Whig party of that section, had become 
 leavened with anti-slavery sentiments. It must 
 also be remembered that the^re was a bitter feud 
 in tlie State of New York between the two 
 sections of the Democratic party — the Barn- 
 burners and the Old Hunkers. The Barnburn- 
 ers were largely anti-slavery ; the Old Hunkers 
 were bitterly pro-slavery. Seward and Weed 
 foresaw that in any event there would be a ^ 
 third party in the field in 1848, composed of out 
 and out abolitionists and pronounced " Fi'ee- 
 soilerSj" as the opponents of the extension of 
 
44 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 slavery into new territory were called. John 
 P. Hale, the Free -soil Senator from New 
 Hampshire, had already been suggested as the 
 Presidential candidate of this third party — had, 
 in fact, been nominated the year before (1847) 
 by a convention held at Cleveland, Ohio. 
 
 Seward and Weed knew there was great 
 danger that, if the tliird-party movement were 
 left to shape itself and come into the field with 
 John P. Hale as its leader, enough Whigs would 
 be drawn off by it in New England, New York, 
 Pennsylvania and Ohio to give the election to 
 the Democrats. They remembered that only 
 four years before, the Liberty Party defection 
 in New York, whose vote was cast mainly by 
 anti-slavery Whigs, had given the Empire State 
 to Polk and made him President of the United 
 States. It was as clear as day to the two saga- 
 cious Whig leaders that the only chance for the 
 Whigs to win the Presidential election of 1848 
 was to give this inevitable third-party move- 
 ment a Democratic lead, and a Democratic 
 
GENERAL CASS. 45 
 
 leader, so as, if possible, to draw off as many 
 Democrats as Whigs from the regular tickets. 
 If that could be done, then New England, New 
 York, Pennsylvania and Ohio would be almost 
 certain to give Whig majorities and render the 
 election of the Whig candidate sure. And now 
 the nomination of General Cass by the Demo- 
 crats promised to give Seward and Weed their 
 opportunity to turn the third-party movement 
 into a vast Democratic rebellion and bolt. 
 
 General Cass was a dull, phlegmatic, lym- 
 phatic, lazy man. He had an unusually large 
 l)rain, but it was so torpid that nothing but a 
 powerful appeal to his selfishness or his vanity 
 could arouse it into action ; and when it was 
 aroused its activity was spasmodic and could 
 not be counted upon for sustained energy. 
 There was not a bit of chivalry in Cass's charac- 
 ter, nor an atom of magnetism in his Jiature. 
 Such a man, of course, could not fail to be 
 destitute of the elements of leadership, and to 
 be incapable of inspiring that personal popular- 
 
40 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 itj which counts for so much in great pohtical 
 contests. 
 
 The Democrats nominated Cass as a forlorn 
 hope, and under an irresistible pressure of cir- 
 cumstances. All through the Mexican war 
 they had sought to develop a Democratic here* 
 whose popularity could vie with that of the 
 victorious Whig generals. But their efforts 
 had been vain ; no Democratic hero was 
 evoked ; and the party at last fell back in 
 mingled despair and hope on General Cass, who 
 enjoyed a nebulous sort of military fame that 
 hung dimly on the fast receding horizon of the 
 war of 1812. 
 
 Cass's lack of personal popularity was not 
 the only weight he had to carry. Although he 
 did not possess qualities which win enthusiastic 
 friends, he had those which sometimes make 
 bitter enemies. Unfortunately for him, in 
 1811, he confederated with Martin Van Buren's 
 enemies to prevent '' New York's favorite son," 
 as Van Buren was called, from getting the 
 
BARNBURNERS— OLD HUNKERS. 47 
 
 Democratic nomination for the Presidency. 
 Van Bui-en and his friends looked upon Cass's 
 conduct as unpardonably treacherous, and 
 naturally wished to resent it in an effectual 
 manner. 
 
 Van Buren's strength was greatest in the 
 States pervaded by the anti slavery disaffec- 
 tion. The Barnburners of New York were his 
 partisans almost to a man, and his son Jolm 
 (Prince John) was their pet orator. If by any 
 means Martin Van Buren could be induced to 
 accept the leadership of the third party, the 
 defeat of Cass and the election of the Whig 
 candidate would be assured. Thurlow Weed 
 was all the more confident that this would be 
 the result, because he had intimate knowledge 
 of the envenomed exasperation which the 
 friends of Silas Wright cherished against the 
 supporters of General Cass. Silas Wright, one 
 of the ablest men of his time, and one of the 
 most popular men in the State of New York, 
 had been a sort of political Siamese twin with 
 
48 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 Martin Van Buren, and it was believed by his 
 friends that he had been pohtically assassinated 
 by the Old Hunkers. His recent death — he 
 died in August, ISiT — added intensity to the 
 hatred which his multitude of mourners felt 
 for his alleged political assassins, and if Van 
 Buren could be brought into the field, all this 
 hatred could be turned against Cass. 
 
 But Seward and Weed knew if — (and this 
 was a most momentous if) — if Hemy Clay 
 should be the Whig candidate for the Presi- 
 dency, that Van Buren would not come forward 
 as the leader of the third party. Much as he 
 wished for vengeance on Cass, he would not 
 gratify his thirst for it by making Henry Clay, 
 so long the enemy of General Jackson, Presi- 
 dent of the United States. It was their pro- 
 found conviction of this fact, and their belief 
 that by proper management Van Buren could 
 be brought to the front, which induced Seward 
 and Weed to enter with all their skill and 
 
GENERAL TAYLOR. 49 
 
 strength into a plan for defeating Clay and 
 nominating Taylor. 
 
 The disaffected Democrats had no ill-feeling 
 towards General Taylor. They had hurrahed 
 over his victories, and helped to celebrate his 
 glory with as much enthusiasm as the Whigs 
 had shown in the same cause. General Taylor 
 had never crossed any })olitician's jiath, had 
 never been a i)olitical })artisan, had, in fact, 
 never voted at a i'resideiitial election. He and 
 General Jackson had been friends ; and so 
 Jackson's bosom friend. Van Buren, felt 
 kindly towards liim, and would nuich rather 
 see hini than Cass in the Presidential chaii-. 
 Seward and Weed did not shut their eyes to the 
 fact that the nomination of General Taylor 
 would alienate many anti-slavery WJiigs ; but 
 they knew that if the coming anti-slavery bolt, 
 which they saw to be inevitable, could be made 
 mainly a Democratic bolt, the loss sustained by 
 the desertion of Whigs would be more than 
 counterbalanced by the accession of Democrats 
 
50 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 to the bolters, especially in the State of New 
 York, by whose vote the election would proba- 
 bly be decided. 
 
 III. Thurlow Weed — The secret of his 
 
 POLITICAL power. 
 
 General Cass was nominated at Baltimore, 
 on Thursday, May 25th, The Whig conven- 
 tion was to assemble at Philadel|diia on 
 Wednesday, June 7th. So there was an inter- 
 vening fortnight for Thurlow Weed and his 
 co-adjutors to utilize the nomination of Cass for 
 the purpose of securing the nomination of Tay- 
 lor. And here it is expedient to say a few 
 words about Thurlow Weed, in order that the 
 secret of his political power may be understood. 
 
 Many of Weed's contemporaries believed 
 him to be unscrupulous ; they all acknowledged 
 his ability. He was a man of such untiring- 
 industry, and such invincible pertinacity, that 
 no political trail could be long enough to tire 
 him out, nor could his almost preternatural 
 
THUKLOW AVEED. ( ^^ 
 
 
 sagacity be thrown off the scent, however iiii 
 cate the trail might be. And this man con- 
 trolled the Albany Evening Journal, which was 
 one of the most powerful newspapers then [)ub- 
 lislied in the State of New York. 
 
 It should be remembered that the events we 
 are narrating occurred in 1S4S, before the New 
 York city press had attained its vast ciiculation 
 and predominant influence. At that time, the 
 New York Saii, altliough it had the largest cir- 
 culation of any daily paper in the city, was a 
 c()mi)aratively uninilumlial journal, chiefly 
 devoted to advertisements. The Herald then 
 had but a little over 10,000 circulation ; the Trl- 
 hiuie had less than 8,000 ; not one of the other 
 daily papers had a circulation of 5,000, and the 
 Times and the 11 or/r/ were yet unborn. The 
 Hudson River railroad was not then l)uilt ; the 
 New York and New Haven railroad was not 
 then built ; the Erie rOad was not yet built ; 
 many other I'ailroads, now in connection with 
 New York, had not then been projected. 
 
1 
 
 ^-"1 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 v^,vC3nce, during all that portion of the year when 
 the navigation of the Hudson Eiver was closed 
 by ice, New York was cut off from conimunica- 
 tioUj except by stage, with the rest of the 
 State. 
 
 Albany, from its more central location, thus 
 had a great advantage over New York in its 
 communication with the State at lai*ge, espec- 
 ially as there was a continuous line of railroads 
 (since consolidated into the New York Central) 
 running from the capital to Buffalo. And the 
 Albany Evening Journal was an older ])aper 
 than the Sun, the Herald, or the Tribune, it 
 having been established in 1830, the Sun in 
 1833, the Herald in 1835, and the Tribune in 
 1841. Besides, the Albany Evening Journal 
 was the State organ of the Whig party, and 
 there was probably not a township in the State 
 in which it hadn't a club of subscribers. From 
 these facts it can readily be seen that the Even- 
 ing Journal was a political power in those pro- 
 
ALBANY EVENING JOURNAL. 53 
 
 vincial days. And Thuiiow Weed knew how 
 to use this power to the greatest advantage. 
 
 Perhaps some of the readers of these pages 
 may remember that cohnnn in the Albany 
 Journal, in which Weed used to make personal 
 mention of his friends and his foes, in little 
 paragraphs, varying from a line and a-half 
 to a dozen or fifteen lines in length. That 
 column was a prodigious power in the politics 
 of the State of New York. There was sekh^m 
 a yoinig man, in any part of the State, who 
 gave promise of becoming a person of influence, 
 tliat was not kindly and flatteringly mentioned 
 in that cohnnn, no matter to what party he 
 belonged. And does any one suppose that 
 young men thus mentioned would not feel 
 friendly to Thurlow Weed, and be ready to do 
 him a personal favor ? 
 
 Let us suppose that young Frog, of Frog 
 Hollow, has been admitted to the bar, and 
 begun to show talents for political leadership. 
 He is a Democrat, and does not patronize the 
 
54 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 Albany Eve^mig Journal, but takes its Demo- 
 cratic rival, the Albany Argus. Some morning 
 his friends ask him if he has seen the last 
 number of the Albany Journal. He sneeringly 
 replies that he has not seen it ; that he does not 
 wish to see it ; that he does not train with that 
 crowd. His friends tell him that he had better 
 see it, because it has something about himself 
 in it. He calls on some Whig who takes the 
 Journal, obtains a copy of the paper, and reads 
 a paragraph somewhat like this : 
 
 ''We learn from friends in Frog Hollow 
 that there is a young man coming forward in 
 that part of the State of whom his fellow-citi- 
 zens have just reason to be proud. We refer to 
 Augustus Frog, Esq., the rising young lawyer. 
 We knew Mr. Frog's grandfather when he was 
 a member of the Legislature more than twenty 
 years ago, and we had such a high personal 
 regard for him as to make us regret that he 
 was on the wrong side in politics." 
 
 On reading this paragraph, Augustus Frog,' 
 
TIIURLOW WEED'S FRIENDS. 55 
 
 Esq., the rising youDg lawyer, feels like playing 
 a game of leapfrog. He borrows the Journal 
 and rushes off with it to his sweetheart, to his 
 parents, to his grandfather. The old grand- 
 father's eyes sparkle as he I'eads the paragraph, 
 and he says : '• Yes, I knew Weed when I was 
 in the Legislature, and a right good fellow he 
 was ; and smart, too, now I tell you. I hope 
 you will go there some day, Augustus, and if 
 you do, I'll give you a letter of introduction to 
 Weed. He's the best man in Albany for a 
 young fellow to know." 
 
 In a few years Augustus Frog is elected to 
 the Assembly on the Democratic ticket. His 
 grandfather gives him the letter of introduction 
 to Weed, and on its presentation he is received 
 with paternal kindness and mad(i to feel as 
 much at home as though he were in his grand- 
 father's office. It is plain to be seen what the 
 result of this will be. Mr. Weed's kindness, 
 shown at a time when the young man feels the 
 
56 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 need of a frieud, sinks into the depths of his 
 heart and brings forth fruit abundantly. 
 
 When one multiphes this young Democratic 
 Fi'og by scores and by hundreds, and adds all 
 the Whig Frogs that had been hopping through 
 the Legislature for eighteen years, he can form 
 some idea of the number of influential friends 
 that Thurlow Weed had in every part of the 
 State in both of the great political parties. 
 And, of course, Weed had the sagacity to use the 
 tremendous power which this widely extended 
 circle of personal friends gave him, in the most 
 adroit and inoffensive manner. By dropping a 
 few remarks here and a few remarks there in 
 conversation, or by correspondence, in which 
 his real purpose was concealed, he could set the 
 minds of either Whigs or Democrats running 
 in the way he wanted them to go, without 
 exciting the least suspicion that he had any 
 ulterior design in what he said or wrote. Or, 
 if he chose to come out frankly with persons 
 whom he wished to enlist directly in his 
 
WILLIAM IL SEWARD ^f 
 
 schemes, he seldom, if ever, addressed his 
 appeals for help to inhospitable ears. 
 
 During the period which elapsed between 
 the nomination of General Cass at Baltimore 
 and the assembling of the Whig National Con- 
 vention at Philadelphia, Weed was busily 
 engaged in sympathizing with the enraged 
 Barnbui-ners, and without seeming to meddle 
 in their party affairs he helped to inflame their 
 animosity against Cass to an irrestrainable 
 degree. Seward was also skillfully at work in 
 the same missionary line. 
 
 IV. William H. Seward— How" He and Weed 
 
 Worked Together. 
 William H. Seward was one of the ablest 
 and most sagacious men of his time. His 
 inferior physique* and his incapacity for oratory 
 prevented the people from perceiving the true 
 measure of his intellectual greatness. If he 
 had had the personal presence and the voice 
 and delivery of Calhoun, Clay or Webster, he 
 
fl 
 
 ^8 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 would have rivalled them in oratorical power 
 and impressed himself upon the minds and the 
 imaginations of his countrymen as forcibly as 
 they did. But owing to his physical deficiencies 
 his gr(\at ahilities were known only to those 
 wdio learned them by studying his writings or 
 from personal intercourse with him. 
 
 In matters of political management in the 
 State of New York, Seward's sagacity was 
 unerring and liis judgment well nigh infallible. 
 He knew all the influential men in the State ; 
 lie also knew the local leaders, and cultivated 
 their friendship. He was particularly gracious 
 to young men, and easily won their affection 
 and their confidence. He did not nesilect men 
 of influence, whatever their age ; but he was 
 more attentive to the young than to the old, 
 fully realizing that the old are constantly i)ass- 
 ing off the stage, while the young are perpet- 
 ually coming on. 
 
 Seward had a keen perception of the political 
 advantage which could be gained by utilizing 
 
WILLIAM II. SEWARD. 59 
 
 religious beliefs and prejudices ; and by the 
 adroit use of a felicitous phrase, embodying a 
 pivotal and aggressive truth, and which could 
 be used as a rhi^torical battle cry, he could draw 
 large bodies of religionists and reformers into 
 sympathy with his schemes without letting it 
 be known what his ulterior motives or i)rojects 
 were. In this subtle and far-reaching work 
 S(!ward was unrivalled. He knew just wheii 
 the fruit was ripe for his hand to pluck. No 
 eagle ever poised over its prey with keener eye, 
 or sw()()])(m1 upon its quarry with surer strok(^ 
 
 In thes(} respects his sagacity and executive 
 spontaneity approached the superhuman. It is 
 dou])tful if there ever was a man who had more 
 aptitude than Seward possessed for saying just 
 exactly the right thing in just exactly the right 
 way at just exactly -the right time and under 
 just exactly the right circumstances. 
 
 Seward's social qualities were a source of 
 strength to him. He was attached to his friends 
 and stood by them, and they were attached to 
 
I 
 
 60 GREAT SENATORS 
 
 and stood by him in return. He was eloquent 
 and masterful in conversation and in intimate 
 confidential correspondence, and could probably 
 do more work in twenty- four ht)urs and keep at 
 his work more continuously than any other man 
 of his day, except Horace Greeley. Such capac- 
 ity for work as he had, when directed by such 
 sagacity as he possessed, is apt to make its way 
 against any degree of talent or genius which is 
 unsupported by plodding industry and assid- 
 uous apphcation. 
 
 Seward and Weed understood each other 
 intimately, and worked together in perfect 
 accord. What two such men could accomplish 
 in a field which furnished them with lines of 
 operation exactly fitted to their powers, and 
 surrounded by circumstances in which they 
 both delighted to put their powers forth, cau- 
 not be told ; and it would be rash to limit 
 their achievements by ordinary standards of 
 measurement. In the political contest of ISiSj 
 they knew just exactly what they must accom- 
 
 >i.. 
 
BARNBURNER ^lEETING. 61 
 
 plish in order to win, and they pursued their 
 course with clear vision, fixed purpose and 
 unfaltering steps. They subtly and success- 
 fully drew their lines through and around the 
 disaffected i3olitical elements in the State, and 
 especially in the City of New York. They had 
 the hearty co-operation of several of the leading 
 Barnburners, who were so determined to wreak 
 vengeance on General Cass and the Old Hunk- 
 ers that they gladly availed themselves of any 
 means which promised to gratify their desires. 
 
 It was arranged to hold a public meeting of 
 Barnburners, in the City Hall Park, to express 
 their indignation at the manner in which their 
 delegates had been treated at the Baltimore 
 Convention. The day on which this meeting 
 sliould be held was of great importance to 
 Seward and Weed, and with the aid of their 
 Barnburner friends that matter was easily 
 arranged. The meeting was called for the 
 afternoon of June (Uh, tlie day before the Whig 
 Convention was to assemble in Philadelphia. 
 
62 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 On the forenoon of that day there was a meet- 
 ing at the Astor House of Whig delegates from 
 N-ew England, New York, and the Western 
 States. This meeting had been brought about 
 in a seemingly accidental way by Weed. He 
 had been in correspondence with such delegates 
 as he thought it prudent to manipulate, and 
 suggested to them individually that if they 
 would stop over a day in New York, on their 
 way to Philadelphia, "' it would be advantage- 
 ous to the interests of the party." Weed's cor- 
 respondents told their colleagues that they were 
 going to stop over a day in New York ; the col- 
 leagues, of course, wanted to stop over with 
 them ; and the result was that the Astor House 
 meeting was largely attended. But little was 
 done at this meeting, its object being, as Weed 
 said, " to have a friendly interchange of views, 
 with an eye to promoting harmony in the con- 
 vention and securing the ultimate success of the 
 party." But for unsuspecting delegates to 
 "interchange views " with Thurlow Weed, on 
 
baiixbl'k>;ek meeting. 63 
 
 such ail occasion, was pretty sure to eud in a 
 change of views on the part of the unsuspect- 
 ing delegates. 
 
 The chief object in having the delegates stop 
 over in Xew York on that day, was that they 
 niiglit witness the Barnburner meeting in the 
 afternoon. That meeting was one of the largest 
 and most enthusiastic that had ever been held 
 in the city. The names of the committee of 
 Barnburner delegates to the Baltimore conven- 
 tion, who made the delegates' I'eport to the meet- 
 hig, will be read with interest. They were 
 names wliich, in those days, were always re- 
 ceived witli hurrahs in Democratic meetings. 
 They were Churchill C. Cambreling, John A. 
 Kennedy, Rol)ert H. Maclav, William F. Have- 
 meyer and Samuel J. Tilden. The report of the 
 committee was outs[)oken and inflammatory. 
 It told the vast multitude of exasperated Barn- 
 burners that their delegates to the Baltimore 
 convention had been insulted and disfranchised, 
 and it called upon the people to rebuke the per- 
 
6B GRExVT SENATORS. 
 
 with the crowds, took note of what v,^as occur- 
 ring, and wei'e of course unspeakably anxious to 
 turn all this Democratic disaffection to the 
 advantage of the Whig party ; and William H. 
 Seward and Thurlow Weed devoted themselves 
 to showing the delegates how their wishes could 
 be orratified. 
 
 They delicately felt the opinions of the dele- 
 gates and caressed their way into their private 
 predilections and personal prejudices. They 
 found that the preference for Clay was in the ; 
 ascendant, that General Scott was tbe second 
 choice of many delegates, and that Webster was 
 the favorite of the New Englanders. There did 
 not seem to be any enthusiasm for General 
 Taylor. Ohio was strenuously opposed to him, 
 and nearly solid for Scott. New England's first 
 choice was Webster, and her second was Clay. 
 New York was for Clay, with a leaning to 
 Scott. Things looked unequivocally ominous 
 for the Taylor movement. Seward and Weed 
 took, and instructed their lieutenants to take a 
 
SEWARD AND WEED. 07 
 
 gloomy view of the Whig cause. The antici- 
 pated Free- soil bolt, with John P. Hale at its 
 head, was magnified into a political bugaboo. 
 Hale must be headed off, or the Whigs were 
 doomed. If the Barnburners could only be 
 pushed on to take the lead in the Free-soil bolt 
 and nominate an influential Democrat — perhaps 
 Martin Van Buren — for their candidate, the 
 situation would be radically changed, and the 
 success of the Whig nominee would be rendered 
 almost sure. But the course of the Barnburners 
 w^ould be largely influenced by the proceedings 
 of the Whig Convention. If it should put for- 
 ward a candidate who was obnoxious to Van 
 Biiren and his fi-iends, they wonld not help 
 elect him by bolting. On the other hand, if the 
 Whigs should nominate a candidate who would 
 not be personally objectionable to Van Buren and 
 his fiiends, the piol)ability was that the Barn- 
 burners would organize an independent move- 
 ment, with Van Buren for their leader. Should 
 they do tliis, the Empire State would certainly 
 
G8 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 be carried by the Whigs, and tliat would doubt- 
 less give them a majority of the electoral votes, 
 and ensure the election of the Whig candidate. 
 With such ideas were the minds of the Whio- 
 delegates inseminated. 
 
 V. The Whig National Convention of 1848. 
 How Clay was defeated and Taylor 
 
 NOMINATED. 
 
 The next morning (June Tth) in Philadel- 
 phia, it was found that Pennsylvania's first 
 choice was Clay, and her second Taylor ; also, 
 that Taylor was strong in the South and South- 
 west. It was evident that Clay's popularity 
 was so great that, if the managers of his can- 
 vass evinced a high degree of skill, it would be 
 very difficult, if not impossible, to defeat him. 
 But Clay was unfortunate in his friends. They 
 were enthusiastic and boastful, and felt so sure 
 of success that they neglected the means of 
 securing it. On the other hand, the leaders of 
 the Taylor movement worked with strenuous 
 
LAYING OUT THE WORK. GD 
 
 energy and suri)assiiig skill. Truman Smith 
 took charge of the New Engkiud delegations. 
 Thoiiias Bullei- King, assisted hy a large nuni- 
 her of trusty assistants, worked among the 
 delegates from tlie South. Pennsylvania and 
 Ohio were left in the liands of influential citi- 
 zens of their own, who hest knew how to work 
 ui)()ii their delegates. Weed took especial 
 charge of the New York delegation. In fact, 
 every delegation was skillfully handled. As 
 Ohio could not he i)rought into line for Taylor, 
 lun- delegates were encouraged to stand hy Gen- 
 cM-al Scott, under the helief that the Convention 
 would finally fall hack on him as a compromise 
 candidate. Delegates from New York and 
 other States, who felt that they were committed 
 au'.iinst Tavlor, were induced to vote for Scott. 
 New England men, who could not he won over 
 to Taylor, w(H'e encouraged to stand hy Web- 
 ster to the last. The younger delegates from 
 all (piarters of the Union were indoctrinated 
 with the idea (heretofore mentioned) that if 
 
70 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 Clay should be elected President, they could not 
 hope for political preferment, as he would 
 bestow all his patronage upon his old friends 
 with whom he had been aftihated for scores of 
 years. The only way for them to gain anything 
 by the trnimph of the Whig i)arty was to elect 
 a President who had no fixed relations Avith 
 anybody, so that everyone would havo an equal 
 chance. In this way, Clay's strength was 
 insidiously undermined, while his friends were ' 
 singing Clay songs and hurrahing over his 
 anticipated triumph. Exliilaiated by their own 
 enthusiasm, they saw everything in the illusive 
 light of unreflecting hoi)e ; inflated with arro 
 gant confidence, they fatuously derided the 
 monitions of prudence, and peremptoiily 
 rebuffed incitatiojis to vigilance. 
 
 The Convention was organized on Wednes- 
 day, June Tth. John M. Morehead, of North 
 Carolina, Avas elected permanent President of 
 the Convention. This was thought to be a tri- 
 uaiph for Clay, and made his friends feel still 
 
CALLING THE ROLL. 71 
 
 more sure of liis nomination. The first day 
 of the Convention was devoted to pieliniinary 
 and rontine work, l)nt it was nnderstood that 
 the l)alloting for a canchdale would be called on 
 carlv on Thursday moniinij:. It was arrano-ed 
 lliat in balloting, tlie roll of members should be 
 called by States in their al[)habetical order ; the 
 name of the chaiiin;in of a State delegation to 
 be called first, and the niuK^s of liis colleagues 
 1(> follow in alpli.ibetical (H(ler. ( )n the surface, 
 this .•i[>|)eared to be a matter- of insignificant 
 det.'iil ; but when il is it'inembered that, as there 
 was then no Stat(» of California or Colorado, 
 Connecticut would come thiid on tlu^ list, and 
 b(? the first Northern State called, and that 
 Truman Snu'th was chaiiiiian of the Connecti- 
 cut delegation, the intelligent reader may be 
 able to s<'e that th(^ manner of calling the roll 
 was by no means an insignificant matter. 
 
 When the Convention assembled on Tliurs- 
 day moi'iiing, in the great hall of the old 
 Chinese Museum, th*^ friends of Clay Inu-ried on 
 
72 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 the balloting, feeling sure that their favorite 
 would lead the poll, and the most sanguine of 
 them offered to bet that he would be nominated 
 on the first ballot. But as the voting went on, 
 a great silence fell on the vast concourse. 
 Delegates who had been counted on for Clay, 
 voted for Taylor, and others voted for Scott. 
 The wily Truman Smith voted for Clay, and 
 so did his five colleagues. The time had not 
 come for him to show his hand. But New 
 England gave Clay only 16 votes, while she 
 gave Webster 21 and Taylor 6. New York 
 gave Webster 1, John M. Clayton 1, Scott 5, 
 and Clay 29. Pennsylvania gave Clay 12, 
 Taylor 8, Scott 6. All this was a surprise to 
 the friends of Clay, but Ohio fairly stunned 
 them. She gave Clay but one vote. She also 
 gave Taylor 1, and Judge McLean 1, and all 
 the rest — 20 of them — were given to Scott. As 
 these developments went on, cries of " Treach- 
 ery !" were heard in diffei-ent imrts of the hall, 
 and the Clay men hissed some of the luore 
 
HISSING THE TRAITORS. 73 
 
 prominent ot" tlie alleged traitors. Almost 
 everybody had kt^pt tally, but the official 
 announcement of the vote was awaited with 
 hreathless eagerness. "Amid a silence that 
 could he heard," as Haskell, of Tennessee, said, 
 the secretary read the result : Webster 22, 
 Scott 4:^>, Clay t>7, Taylor HI. Another ballot 
 was called for, and after nuich delay it was 
 taken. The Clay men had lal)ored with their 
 deserters, and hoped for a better result on the 
 second ballot. l>ut they were doomed to disa])- 
 pointment ; when the vote was announced it 
 was found that Webster had held his 22 votes, 
 that Scott had gone up from 4:5 to 40, that 
 Taylor had gone from 111 to lis, and that 
 Clay had sunk from l»T to S(;. Truman Smith 
 and his five colleagues had again voted for Clay, 
 and the staunclmess of the Connecticut delega- 
 tion gave a basis for hope to Clay's friends, who 
 now moved an adjournment, lest Taylor should 
 he noniinate4 on a third ballot. The friends of 
 Webstei', and the Ohio delegation supported the 
 
<i GREAT tSENATOHS. 
 
 iiiuLiuii to atljouiii, and it was carried, amid 
 great exeitemeiit. 
 
 During the interval, between the adjourn- 
 ment of the Convention and its ieassembh"no- 
 the next morning, the friends of Clay e.\liil)ited 
 himentable lack of tact and judgment. Instead 
 of trying to win back the deserters by piciper 
 appeals and arguments, they vehemently 
 assailed them, and wounded their self-love by 
 vitui)erative denunciation. Taylor's friends, on 
 the other hand, talked only of the controlling 
 interests of the Whig party and the welfaie of 
 the country. They didn't care paiticularlv for 
 any particular individual. All they wanted was 
 a candidate with whom they could win, and 
 thus benefit the country at large while promot- 
 ing the Avelfare of the party. At anv rate, 
 c^very delegate had a right to his own opinion, 
 and to vote for Avliomsoever he believed to be 
 the best man to beai- the Whig standard in the 
 coming close and desperate fight. What they 
 
THE Tiniil) HALLOT. 75 
 
 admired in a delegate, above all otliei- qualities, 
 was independence of thought and manliness in 
 action. 
 
 Sucli talk was dcliciously soothing to the 
 (h'legates whom Clay's friends were anathema- 
 tising, and k«'[)t them securely in line for 
 Tayloi', for wiioin ihey would either vote 
 diiectly, or help uidirectly by voting for 
 Webster or Scott. It did more ; it made them 
 paitisans against CJay, and set sonn' of thcin at 
 work t(j l)ring their c(jil( 'agues into coalescence 
 w ith themselves. 
 
 When the Convention met on Friday morn- 
 ing I he feeling of ai)[>rehension and expectation 
 was so intense that men spoke in hushed voices 
 and walked on tii)toe. As soon as the prelim- 
 inary routine could ]>e got tlnough with, a 
 motion was made; that the Convention ])roceed 
 to a tiiird liallot for a candidate for the Presi- 
 dency. The motion was carried by a unanimous 
 vote, but the **aye" was given in such 
 suppressed tones that its effect was like that of 
 
76 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 the pianissimo of a grand orcliestra. The roll 
 call began and proceeded through the lists of 
 delegates from Alabama and Arkansas in deep 
 silence. Next came Connecticut, which, under 
 the lead of Truman Smith, had voled sohd for 
 Clay on the two previous ballots. Eumors had 
 circulated during the morning that Smith had 
 gone over to Taylor, and now, when his name 
 was about to be called, the excitement, though 
 subdued, was intense. Smith's smooth -shaveu, 
 pink and white face rises before me as I write, 
 and it seems as though I could hear his voice as 
 I heard it forty-one years ago, when, in answer 
 to the call of his name, he responded in clear, 
 penetrating tones : '' Zachary Taylor." That 
 vote sounded the knell of Henry Clay. The 
 Taylor men had all got ready for this signal, 
 and when it was given, they burst out with 
 repeated cheers and nearly stampeded the 
 Conventioii. 
 
 When the result of the ballot was announced, 
 and it was known that General Taylor had 
 
GREELET AND WEBB. 77 
 
 received 133 votes and Henry Clay only 74, a 
 scene of the stormiest confusion ensued. Some 
 of the delegates cheered till they were exhausted. 
 Others leaped upon seats and chairs and yelled 
 themselves hoarse in trying to get a hearing. 
 Horace Greeley, who was wild for Clay, and 
 General James Watson Webb, who was equally 
 wild for Taylor, ran back and forth between 
 the reporters' table and the ])latform, shouting 
 and gesticulating like madmen ; Webb, with 
 his hat on the back of his head and his coat- 
 tails flapping in tlie breeze which he occasioned, 
 and Greeley with th.e knot of his necktie under 
 his left ear and the ends floating over his 
 shoulder. Every one foresaw the result of the 
 ]U)xt ballot, and when it was taken, and Gen- 
 eral Taylor was declared nominated— (he getting 
 ITL votes, and Clay only 32, while Scott's had 
 run up to G3) the excitement was not increased, 
 but had somewhat diminished. 
 
 As soon as the confusion had subsided, 
 ilelegates all thioiigh the hall began to vocifer- 
 
78 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 ate charges of treachery. The Ohio delegation 
 was exceedingly bitter and exasperated. It 
 had given Taylor aiid Clay only one vote a- 
 piece, and after the first ballot had plnmped 21 
 votes for Scott, every time, under the hire that 
 he was the "dark horse" of the convention, 
 who would eventually win the race. But now 
 they saw that they had been hoodwinked, and 
 were furious at the discovery. Several of them 
 made violent speeches, and swore, with uplifted 
 hand, that, so help them God, they would go 
 liome and do all they could to defeat the nom- 
 iuation. Delegates from Maine, New Hami)- 
 shire and Massachusetts did hkewise. At first, 
 these demonstrations wei'o received by tlie 
 victors with derisive laughter. But after a 
 while it becaiue apparent that the disaffection 
 was no laughing matter. Pennsylvania and 
 New York delegates began to join in the clamor's 
 of indignation. The Taylor men became 
 alarmed and sought to placate their irate 
 
THE VICTORS ALARMED. TO 
 
 opponents. But their efforts at pacification 
 were futile. 
 
 In the midst of the turmoil a motion was 
 made to proceed to the nomination of n 
 candidate for the Yice-Presid^ncy. The motion 
 was declared carried, and delegates were 
 lequested to name their candidates. This 
 hrouLiht tlie Convention to order. Hurried 
 consultations were held hy the Taylor meu, 
 who hoped to conciliate the disaffected delegates 
 hy giving them a candidate for Vice-President 
 wlio should he a man after their own hearts, 
 it had huen arranged that Ahhot Lawrence, of 
 Massachusetts, should he the candidate for 
 Vice President, and it was understood that if he 
 j-ot the nomination he would contrihute one 
 liundred thousand dollars to the campaign fund. 
 But the impassioned indignation of the anti- 
 slavery portion of the Convention at the nom- 
 ination of Taylor, so alarmed the generars 
 suppoi-ters, that they did not dare to carry out 
 that arrangement. It was seen that something 
 
80 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 very decided must be done to pacificate the 
 an ti- slavery disaffection, or there would be a 
 fatal bolt. Abbot Lawrence was not enough of 
 an abolitionist to satisfy the disaffected ones. 
 Who would satisfy, them ? was now the ques- 
 tion. Of all the names mentioned for the Vice- 
 Presidency, that of Millard Fillmore, who was 
 an anti -slavery man of pronounced type, had 
 most promise in it. Just at the right moment, 
 Mr. Morril, one of Fillmore's friends from 
 western New York, leaped upon a bench and 
 cried: "Give us Millard Fillmore, and we 
 promise you the vote of New York !" 
 
 This declaration w^as received with cheers, 
 and Fillmore was nominated. And so a ticket 
 was provided which it w^as supposed could walk 
 over the country from East to West, with its 
 pro-slavery foot in the South and its anti slavery 
 foot in the North, witliout danger that either 
 foot would get mired. But the Convention 
 adjourned amidst an atmos|)here of despondency 
 and gloom. The bittei-ness of the Clay men 
 
GREELEY'S DISAPPOINTMENT. 81 
 
 was SO intense that they threatened the ticket 
 with defeat and the hopes of the Whig party with 
 annihilation. A premonition of coming defeat 
 seemed to weigh upon the spirits of the delegates. 
 
 In the evening, after the adjournment of the 
 Convention, I was in the office of the Philadel- 
 phia North American, writing out my report. 
 The Hon. ^Jorton McMichael, the editor of the 
 North American (who was a gentleman of 
 nmch social mfluence and great political 
 sagacity), was talking over the situation with 
 several delegates (Tajlor men) from the South 
 west, when who should come tramping into 
 the office, carpet bag in hand, but Horace 
 Greeley. On seeing who were present, Greeley 
 scowled upon them, turned around, and started 
 lor the door. 
 
 "Where are you going, Mr. Greeley?" 
 Mc]\Iichael coui'teously asked. 
 
 "I'm going home," snarled Greeley. 
 
 "But there's no train to-night," McMichael 
 
 suggested. 
 
82 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 "I doirt want any train," Greeley snapped 
 out ; ''I'm going across New Jersey, afoot and 
 alone !" And away he went. 
 
 As I withdrew my gaze frojn Greeley's 
 retreating form, it fell upon a dark young man 
 of small stature, with a large and fine head, 
 who was standing at the foot of the table at 
 which I sat. He had been watching Greeley, 
 and his countenance was convulsed with scorn 
 and detestation, somewhat relieved by a sinister 
 gleam of triumph. He soon left the office, and 
 I said to McMichael, "How that man hates 
 Greeley ! Who is he ?" 
 
 ''I thought you knew him," McMichael 
 answered. " He is a fellow-townsman of yours. 
 He is Henry J. Raymond, the reasoning (editor 
 of the New York Courier and Enquirer. Gree- 
 ley will never forgive him and Colonel Webb 
 for the part they played in the defeat of Clay." 
 Greeley did not foi-give them ; and there 
 were many things for which they didn't forgive 
 
NO ENTHUSIASM. 83 
 
 Greeley ; and the personal animosities of those 
 three eminent journalists helped to kill the 
 Wliig party, which gave its last national gasp 
 four years afterwards, in 1852. 
 
 On the evening of the day after the adjourn- 
 uKMit of the Convention, the Whigs of Philadel- 
 phia, who were nearly all idolatrous worshipers 
 of Clay, held a ^' Grand Mass Meeting" at the 
 Musical Fund Hall, to ratify the noiiunalions. 
 I was present to report the proceedings for the 
 North American. The nieciting was not at all 
 ''Grand"; it was the most lngTd)rious politi- 
 cal festivity at which I ever assisted. Hardly 
 anything was heard from the sp^^akers but jere- 
 miads over Clay. The address of Mayor Swift, 
 who presided over the meeting, was almost 
 entirely devoted to expressions of grief on 
 Clay's behalf. He was so overcome by his feel 
 ings tliat he spoke with whimsical incoherency. 
 After a time he put his right foot upon the seat 
 of a chair before him, leaned his elbow upon his 
 knee, dropped his face in his hand, and sobbed 
 
84 GRE.VT SENATORS. 
 
 aloud. He stood in this position till the audi- 
 ence grew nervous. On recovering somewhat 
 fj'om his emotion, he said — still keeping his 
 attitude, with his face in his hand : 
 
 "Permit me, my friends, while bowing to 
 the decrees of fate and the decisions of the Con- 
 vention, to keep one little corner of my heart 
 green in friendship for him wdiom I hoped to 
 have for a leader in this campaign— one little 
 green spot on which I can rear a monument to 
 his memory which shall reach to the clouds, and 
 whose summit I can water with my tears as I 
 kneel in sorrow at its base." 
 
 '' For God's sake, Dyer, take care of the old 
 man's rhetoric !" whispered McMichael, w^ho 
 sat immediately behind me. I suppose the 
 gifted editor did not see how the good old man, 
 while kneeling at the base of a monument that 
 reached the clouds, could at the same time 
 w^ater its summit with his tears. 
 
 The character of this " Grand Ratification 
 Meeting" indicates what the state of affairs was 
 
WIDESPREAD DISAFFECTION. 85 
 
 in the Whig city of Pliiladeli)hia, where the Con- 
 vention was held. When the work of the cam- 
 paign was hegun, it soon became evident that 
 the ticket was not popular anywhere in the 
 North, East or West. The repugnance of the 
 anti slavery Whigs to Taylor, could not be 
 overcome ; the indignation of the friends of 
 Clay could not be ai)peased. The widespread 
 disaffection gave greaft momentum to the Free- 
 soil movement, which grew so rapidly the Whig 
 leaders saw that their only hope of success lay 
 in getting the Bainburners to take the lead of 
 the movement and bring Van Buren into the 
 field as its candidate. The Barnburners held a 
 Convention at Utica and nominated Van Buren, 
 but he peremptorily declined the honor. His 
 declination was a severe disai)pointment to the 
 Barnburnei's, and left them all at sea ; but it 
 did not disappoint or discourage Seward and 
 Weed. They knew Martin Van Buren through 
 and thiougli, and believed that if the opportun- 
 ity to avenge liimself upon Cass and the South- 
 
80 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 ern Democrats were offered to him, under cir- 
 cumstances which he considered worthy of his 
 own position and dignity, he would embrace it, 
 beyond all peradventure. 
 
 Yl. Martin Van Buren. 
 
 Martin Van Buren was a greater and a better 
 man than his countrymen have ever supposed 
 him to have been. Superiority was stamped 
 upon every lineament of his countenance. I 
 met him and Clay on the same evening, at a 
 Wistar party (so called after Dr. Wistar), in 
 Philadelphia, in March, ISiS. The opportunity 
 thus presented for studying, comparing and 
 contrasting those two men was inexpressibly 
 gratifying to me. I was a student of phreno- 
 logy, and I brought all my knowledge of that 
 subject into play on that occasion. It was the 
 first time I had seen Van Buren ; Clav I had 
 met before. Being of Whig lineage, I had from 
 boyhood been taught to distrust and dislike Van 
 Buren and to believe in and admire Clay. The 
 
VAN • BUKEN AND CLAY. 87 
 
 first thing which struck me, as I studied the two 
 men, was Van Buren's evident supeiiority in 
 intellectual power. This was a disappointment, 
 and almost a shock to me. I could not bear to 
 think that this '5 tricky Democrat " could be in 
 any wise superior to ''glorious Harry of the 
 West." On further study of the men, I was 
 comforted by the conviction that Clay possessed 
 the more eagle-like qualities, and that in public 
 debate and personal intellectual encounters Van 
 Bur(?n would be no match for him. But I could 
 not divest myself of the impression that in a 
 contest carried on in writing, where personal 
 magnetism and oratorial powers could not be 
 brought into l)lcn', Clay would be no match for 
 Van Buren. Clay's manner was the more 
 instantaneously captivating ; but as the minutes 
 glided by. Van Buren constantly won upon the 
 favor of the company, and before he took his 
 leave he had gained a powerful hold upon their 
 respect and admiration. To me, his conversa- 
 tion, his gracefulness, his elegance, his perfect 
 
8S GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 equipoise, his exquisite courtesy, his intellectual 
 grip on every subject he touched, were a revela- 
 tion that filled me with wondei- and delight. 
 
 I afterwards studied up Van Buren's history 
 and made a^^ thorough an analysis of his char- 
 acter as my o])portunities permitted. Phi'cno- 
 logically speaking, his affectional and propel- 
 ling organs were markedly developed. Love of 
 home and family and friends was strong iu him. 
 His conibativeness, destructiveness, caution and 
 secretiveness were all very large. This gave 
 him great energy and industry, with perfect 
 mental and emotional equipoise and absolute 
 self possession under all circumstances. His 
 firmness, self-esteem, appiobativeness and hope 
 were large, giving him dignity and courtesy of 
 demeanor, strength of purpose and elasticity 
 of spirits. He was never long despondent under 
 adversity. His moral organs were well de- 
 veloped, but his spiritual or religious faculties 
 were weak ; and hence, while he was distin- 
 guished for uprightness of chciracter and jDurity 
 
.MAKTIX VAN BUREN. 8^ 
 
 of life, he was devoid of enthusiasm and desti- 
 tute of emotional fervor. His intellectual facul- 
 ties were massive and active. His brain was 
 laige in every way — rather too large for his 
 l)ody. His organ of language, though fairly 
 developed, was not large ; and this defect, en- 
 lianced by his lack of warmtli and enthusiasm, 
 prevented him from taking high rank as an 
 orator. But he was a clear and powerful 
 reasoner, and was adioit in presenting his cause 
 witli all its strong points foremost. 
 
 Under his i)lacid demeanor, Van Buren 
 could cherish a vehement desire to inflict what 
 theologians call "punitive justice" on his foes, 
 and was cajjable of pursuing a purpose with 
 tenacious determination wiien his feelings were 
 deeply enlisted in his own behalf. He was proud 
 and sensitive ; and liis pi'ide and sensibility 
 had been deeply wounded by his treatment by 
 the Democratic party, and especially by what he 
 believed to be the deliberate treachery of Gen - 
 oral Cass. He was naturallvon the side of Free- 
 
1)0 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 soil. He was in favor of the Wilmot Proviso. 
 He had long chafed under the lead of Southern 
 statesmen, to which his affiliations with the 
 Democratic party had compelled him to suhmit. 
 How aggravating that Southern lead w^as to 
 high-minded Northern statesmen, it is impossible 
 for people of this generation to imagine. All 
 that the South had to do to concentrate its 
 entire influence against a Northern man was to 
 whisper that he was hostile to slavery. If he 
 wavered a single jot or tittle in his allegiance to 
 the "peculiar institution," he was at once os- 
 tracised. These tactics were brought into piny 
 early in the history of our government. Web- 
 ster, in his reply to Hayne, away back in 1830, 
 pointedly alluded to this practice. "I know full 
 well," he said, "that it is, and has been, the 
 settled policy of some persons in the South, for 
 yeai's, to represent the people of the North as 
 disposed to interfere with them in their own 
 exclusive and peculiar concerns. This is a deli- 
 cate and sensitive point in Southern feeling ; and 
 
MARTIN VAN BUREN. 91 
 
 of late years it has always been touched, and 
 generally with effect, whenever the object has 
 been to unite the whole South against Northern 
 men and Northern measures. This feeling, 
 always carefully kept ahVe, and maintained at 
 too intense a heat to admit discrimination or 
 reflection, is a lever of great power in our politi- 
 cal machine." 
 
 The South did not attempt any disguise or 
 concealment in this matter. Southern leaders 
 made no secret of their tyi'annical insistence. 
 On the contrary, they gloried in it ; and dotibt-^ 
 less, such of their descendants as shall read this 
 narrative, will indulge hi smiles of grim satisfac- 
 tion and pride, on being reminded how, by 
 means of such speedy and invincible concentra- 
 tion of Southern sentiment, their honored and 
 beloved predecessors always compelled their 
 Northern allies to lick the dust of humiliation. 
 
 In addition to other i-easons, the implacable 
 hatred of Van Buren by John C Calhoun and 
 his friends (wliich will be accounted for when 
 
09 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 t/ ^ 
 
 we come to the delineation of Calhoun's char 
 acter), had helped to make " New York's favor- 
 ite son " feel his galling yoke of political servitude 
 in all its bitterness. And now, the Democratic 
 party, undei' the lead of the South, had insult- 
 ingly cast him aside, and given its leadership to 
 the man wlio had so cruelly betrayed him. Van 
 Buren was in the GGth year of his age, and 
 CDuld not hope for any futuie political prefei-- 
 ment. But he could throw off his political 
 chains and strike an avenging and deadly blow 
 at the false fiiend who had betj'ayed him, and 
 at the party which had humiliated him. Was it 
 in human nature for "a frail human brother"— 
 to speak after the manner of good men — 
 to forego such an oj^poitunity for vengeance ? 
 Seward and Weed knew it was not ; they 
 understood the passions which were seething in 
 Van Buren's soul, and took steps to utilize them 
 for the defeat of Cass and the election of Taylor. 
 They unobtrusively formed an alliance with 
 Benjamin F. Butler, a distinguished lawyer in. 
 
FREE SOIL CONVENTION. 93 
 
 the city of New York, who was a leader in the 
 Democratic party, and Van Bureii'y most inti- 
 mate and trusted friend. Butler had been a pet 
 ixnd jJi'otege ol Van Buren's from his boyhood. 
 He stu(h(3d law in Van Buren's office at Kinder- 
 hook, and became his law jjartner at the age of 
 twa^ntv-two. Durin<2: the last vear of Van 
 Buren's presidency, Butler was his acting Secre- 
 tary of War ; and from the day that Van Buren 
 
 left the White House, on March 4th, 1841, Butler 
 had been devoted to him both politically and 
 personally. He keenly felt what he believed to 
 be the wrongs of his beloved chief, and burned 
 to avenge them upon his foes. 
 
 VII. The Free-soil National Convention at 
 
 Buffalo. 
 
 Butler had reason for believing that 
 although Van Biu'en would not demean himself 
 by leading a mere faction fight in the State of 
 New York, he would not refuse to place him- 
 self at the head of a great national movement, 
 
94 GREAT SENA rORS. 
 
 and a great national movement had been deter- 
 mined upon. A call was issued for a National 
 Convention of all those who were opposed to the 
 extension of slavery into the new Territories, to 
 meet at Buffalo, on the 9th day of August. All 
 the States were invited to send delegates to the 
 Convention, to nominate Free soil candidates 
 for the Presidency and Vice Presidency. This 
 movement received the enthusiastic support of 
 the disaffected anti-slavery men in both parties, 
 and also of the old line abolitionists. The Con- 
 vention was attended by all the anti slavery 
 magnates (except those who belonged to the 
 extreme Garrison ian wing) and by thousands of 
 the rank and file. There was a sprinkling of 
 delegates from Delaware, Maryland and Vir- 
 ginia ; and one of the Virginia delegates electri- 
 fied the Convention by announcing that he was 
 ''from the south of Mason's and Dickenson^ s 
 line." I was in attendance to report the pro- 
 ceedings of the Convention for publication in 
 pamphlet form. 
 
HALE'S POPULARITY. 95 
 
 When the Convention got under way, it was 
 discovered that the preference for John P. Hale 
 as tlie candidate of the party was strongly pre- 
 dominant and seemingly irresistible. To make 
 matters worse, Van Buren coquetted with the 
 Convention, and sent his friends a letter, in 
 which he reminded them of liis refusal to accept 
 the nomination which was tendered to him at 
 Utica in June, and strongly hinted that it would 
 not be agreeable for liim to be compelled to 
 refuse another nomination. He put it deli- 
 cately, and also adroitly, in these words : 
 
 ''You know, fiom my letter to the Utica 
 convention, and the confidence you repose in 
 ray sincerity, how greatly the proceedings of 
 that body, in relation to myself, were opposed 
 to my earnest wishes." 
 
 This letter was received as conclusive by the 
 friends of John P. Hale. They considered his 
 nomination as good as made ; and in their blind 
 confidence, they made the same mistake which 
 the friends of Clay had made two months 
 
96 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 before at Philadelphia. They hurrahed, made 
 speeches — fiery, eloquent, excellent speeches — 
 and seemed to be having everything their own 
 way. Meanwhile, Seward, Weed and Butler, 
 who read Van Buren's letter with a native 
 sagacity of perception which their own long 
 practice in writing similar letters had sharpened 
 to an almost preternatural keenness, were 
 effectively working to head off Hale and bring 
 Van Buren to the front. Seward and Weed, of 
 course, worked secretly ; Butler openly. They 
 knew that the proceedings of "" that body "—the 
 Utica convention, which represented only a sec- 
 tion of a pai-ty in a single State, was quite a 
 different thing, in Van Buren's estimation, 
 from the proceedings of a great National Con- 
 vention under the control of some of the most 
 conspicuous and influential men in the country. 
 It being certain that if the Convention 
 should come to an early vote, Hale would be 
 nominated, a good deal of preliminary business 
 was introduced, and opportunity was given to 
 
DEEP iMANAGEMENf. 07 
 
 every ardent orator to orate as long as he 
 pleased. When the names of candidates were 
 proposed, Hon. Henry Dodge, U. S. Senator 
 from Wisconsin, who was a highly respected 
 Free-soiler, was put forward as the opponent of 
 Hale. Dodge was very popular in the West, 
 and his name was greeted with such enthu- 
 siasm, it seemed as though he would carry off 
 tlie prize. Charles Francis Adams was also 
 named as a candidate for the Presidency, and 
 his name was received with such hearty cheers 
 that the Hale men were bewildered. A mes- 
 sage soon came from Senator Dodge, requesting 
 his friends to withdraw his name, and assign- 
 ing ill health as a reason why it would be 
 impossible foi him to accept the burdens of the 
 candidacy. It was then proposed— the idea 
 being started by the secret friends of Van 
 Buren — that Hale should be nominated for the 
 Presidency and Dodge for the Vice-Presidency. 
 Tins proposition was opposed by the friends of 
 Adams. It w\as also opposed by the avowed 
 
98 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 friends of Van Bnren, who were seeking to gain 
 time, perplex counsel, weary patience, and get 
 the Convention into such a frame of mind as 
 would lead to the adoption of their plan when 
 it should be presented. After a while, another 
 communication was received from Senator 
 Dodge, refusing to allow his name to be pre- 
 sented to the Convention for any purpose what- 
 ever. This was a set back to the friends of 
 Hale and helped to comphcate still more the 
 already confused state of things. 
 
 And now, when everything seemed to be at 
 cross-purposes, the friends of Van Buren played 
 their winning card. It was proposed, in order 
 to simphfy matters, and maintain that har- 
 mony which should characterize the dehbera- 
 tions of freemen met to carry out a great and 
 holy cause, that a committee on nominations 
 shoukl be appointed, who coukl consult calmly 
 and quietly upon the situation, come to definite 
 conclusions, and report the same to the Conven- 
 tion, for its approval or rejection, as the case 
 
BUTLER'S SKILL. 99 
 
 might be. This proposition was adopted, and 
 the committee on nominations was appointed. 
 What the views of a majority of that conmiittee 
 were, it is easy to imagine, when it is remem- 
 bered that Butler and his helpers knew just 
 exactly what they were about, and that the 
 friends of Hale were taken unawares by the 
 proposition. The committee went into secret 
 session. Butler was a member of it, and so 
 was Salmon P. Chase, the President of the 
 Convention, wlio u[) to that time had been a 
 Van Buren Democrat, and who didn't like Hale 
 nearly as well as he Hked Chase. 
 
 Butler soon took tlie lead in the committee. 
 He had made elaborate and profound prepara- 
 tion for this very crisis, and his management 
 was so consunnnatelv able that it would have 
 excited the admiration of Van Buren himself, 
 could he have witnessed it. He first convinced 
 the conunittee that Van Buren would accept 
 the nomination, if it were unanimously ten- 
 dered to him. Tlien he set at work to persuade 
 
100 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 them that Van Buren was nothing less than a 
 providential candidate. Here was a man who 
 for more than a generation had enjoyed the 
 confidence of his countrymen ; who had filled 
 every official position, from a State legislator to 
 President of the United States, with conspic- 
 uous ability and integrity ; whose name was 
 known and honored throughout the civilized 
 world — this great, good and renowned man they 
 could now have for their standard bearer in the 
 desperate contest in which they were about to 
 engage for the cause which was so dear to their 
 hearts. His appeal was successful. The com- 
 mittee began to be satisfied that it would give 
 them national prestige to have Van Buren for 
 their candidate. Butler then discoursed upon 
 Van Buren's admirable personaJ character, and 
 in winning words set forth the purity and vir- 
 tues of his private life. He gave an animated 
 and picturesque description of a visit he had 
 recently made him, at his home in Kinderhook. 
 As he was describing the almost boyish activity 
 
A THUNDER-CLAP. 101 
 
 with which Van Buren went over his farm, and 
 the pride he took in his fields of grain and cab- 
 bages and turnips, a tall, gaunt delegate from 
 Ohio, named Brinkerhoff, slowly and spirally 
 elevating himself like a jackscrew, shrieked out, 
 in shiill, piercing tones : 
 
 "Damn his cabbages and turnips! What 
 does he say about the abolition of slavery in the 
 Deestrick of Columby !" 
 
 This was a thunderclap. Silence reigned, 
 but not long. The committee spontaneously 
 burst into a roar of mingled laughter and 
 cheers. 
 
 To understand the terrific impact of that 
 question, it should be rc^membered that only 
 eleven yeai's before (March 4, 1837), in his in- 
 augural address, Van Buren, quoting from his 
 letter accepting the nomination to the Presi- 
 dency, had said : 
 
 " I must go into the Presidential chair the 
 inflexible and uncompromising opponent of 
 every attempt on the part of Congress to 
 
102 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 abolish slavery in the District of Columbia 
 against the wishes of the slaveholding States." 
 
 The explosion of such an interrogative 
 bombshell as Brinkeihoff hurled at Van Buren's 
 eulogist would have utterly disconcerted an 
 ordinary speaker. But the veteran Butler was 
 equal to the occasion, and turned what might 
 have been a disaster into a means of triumph. 
 Thanking his "friend from Ohio" for thus 
 bringing forward the important subject of the 
 abolition of slavery in the Disti'ict of Columbia, 
 he would answer, from personal knowledge of 
 the views and convictions of Mr. Van Buren on 
 that subject, that if he should be elected 
 President of the United States, and if a bill 
 abolishing slavery in the District of Columbia 
 should be passed by Congress, it would receive 
 the President's signature. This assurance 
 occasioned great enthusiasm and w\qs received i 
 with prolonged applause and cheers. The feel- 
 ing thus excited decided the contest in the 
 committee. It w^as unanimously resolved to 
 
VAX BUREN NOMINATED. 103 
 
 recommend Martin Van Buren to the Conven- 
 tion as the Free-soil candidate for the Presidencj, 
 and Charles Francis Adams for Vice-President, 
 A platform of piinciples was also prepared, 
 whicli was so extreme in its expression of Free- 
 soil and ant i -slavery views that it conld not fail 
 to satisfy the most nnrompi'omising members 
 of the party. The Convention adopted the 
 report of the committee entire, both as to 
 candidates and platform, and Van Bnren and 
 Adams were nominated with enthnsiasm. 
 
 One of the ir.ottoes pnt forth in the platform 
 as a party ciy, was : " No more slave States ; 
 no m(^r(^ slave Territories." Soon after its 
 adoi)tion, Salmon P. Chase arose and said it was 
 thought best to amend the platform in one re- 
 spect, namely : Instead of having it read "No 
 more slave States ; no more slave Territories," 
 it was proposed to strike out the word '^ more " 
 in the last clause, so the motto would be : '^ No 
 more slave States ; no slave Territories." 
 Nothing which occurred during the sitting of 
 
104 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 the Convention occasioned more intense enthu- 
 siasm than did this proposed amendment. For 
 some reason it seemed to touch the inmost 
 heart of the delegates and the spectators, and 
 it was adopted with prolonged cheering. 
 
 Van Buren and Adams at once accepted 
 their nominations, and the Free-soilers, joyously 
 throwing their banner to the breeze, went into 
 the campaign with wild hurrahs, shouting their 
 motto, '^ No?// ore slave States ; no slave Terri- 
 tories." 
 
 VIII. The Triangular Fight for the Presi- 
 dency — Public Feeling in Washington. 
 
 The ensuing triangular contest for the 
 Presidency was an exceedingly embittered one. 
 The spectacle of Martin Van Buren — '^ New 
 York's favorite son "—leading the anti slavery 
 hosts to battle was inexpressibly maddening to 
 the Democrats, especially to those of the South, 
 and they fairly thirsted for the blood of the 
 
WEBSTER'S SPEECH. 105 
 
 Free-soilers. The friends of Henry Clay could 
 not forgive his alleged betrayal. The candidacy 
 of General Taylor' did not^ evoke any party 
 enthusiasm. Daniel Webster said that his 
 nomination was one not fit to be made. Horace 
 Greeley held aloof week after week, and as it 
 was becoming apparent that the vote of New 
 York State would probably decide the contest, 
 his action caused great consternation. In this 
 emergency it was reported and believed that 
 the gallant Clay, although he would not take 
 an active part in the campaign, earnestly de- 
 sired the triumph of the Wliig cause. This 
 conciliated many of Clay's friends. Webster, 
 not that he disliked Taylor less, but that he 
 hated Cass and Van Buren more, was induced 
 to address a mass meeting at Marshfield, in 
 support of the Whig cause. 
 
 His speech was a masterly one. He analyzed 
 the situation to the very bottom, and exhibited 
 the practical issues at stake in the election in 
 the clearest haht. No address could possibly 
 
106 « GREAT SEiN[ATORS. 
 
 have been better adapted to persuade disaffected 
 Whigs to return to the party ranks and vote 
 the regular ticket. It was widely publislied, 
 and produced a profound effect throughout the 
 Northern States. Greeley so hated the Demo- 
 cratic party that he could not keep out of the 
 fight. He was nominated for a shoi"t term in 
 Congress, and threw himself and the Tribune 
 into the campaign with his accustomed ardor 
 and energy. Everything began to work, 
 especially in New York, which was the pivotal 
 State, as Seward and Weed had foi-eseen. As 
 the contest went on, and the deeper feelings of 
 the pai'tisans were stirred, the anti-slavery 
 Whigs of the Empire State discovered that they 
 could not play into the hands of the Barnburn- 
 ers by voting for Martin Van Buren. Thou- 
 sands of them returued to their party allegiance, 
 and cast their votes for Taylor and Fillmore. 
 This decided the contest. Aside from the vote 
 of New York, Taylor had 128 and Cass 127 
 electoral votes. The vote of New York then— 
 
FEEUNG IX WASHINGTON. <• 107 
 
 as SO often before and since— determined on 
 wliicli l)anner victory should perch ; and, ow- 
 ing to the vast Democratic bolt in favor of Van 
 Buren, Taylor got the vote of the Empire State, 
 by a small plurality, which gave him 37 majority 
 in the Electoral College — and carried the Whig 
 party again, and for the last time, into Federal 
 power. 
 
 It was only a month after this bitter contest 
 was ended tbat the session of Congress began, 
 and the animosities and heartburnings which 
 had been engendered by the fight were carried 
 to Wasliingt(Hi. On the fifth day of the ensu- 
 ing March--tbe fourth coming on Sunday — 
 General Tavl(^r was to be inauirurated, and a 
 Whig Administration, with an anti- slavery 
 Vice-President to preside over the Senate, was 
 to come into power. It was understood that 
 Willinm H. Seward, of New York, and Salmon 
 P. Cbase, of Ohio, were to be elected United 
 States Senators fi'om their respective States. 
 Seward and Chase were detested by the South, 
 
108 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 and the idea that they were to come into the 
 Senate was intolerable to some of the Southern 
 Senators. In addition to all these ii'ritating 
 influences, an exasperating rumor was circu- 
 lated that Seward had won the confidence of 
 General Taylor — who spoke of him as " tlie 
 great Mr. See ward, of New York " — and would 
 be influential in shaping his administration. 
 All these things helped to increase the excite- 
 ment with regard to slavery and abolition, 
 which already ran so high that it had occa- 
 sioned mobs in Boston, in New York, and in 
 Philadelphia. Anti-slavery meetings were 
 often interrupted by mobs in New York. I was 
 pi'esent, as a reporter, at several such interrup- 
 tions, and on one occasion had my hand trodden 
 upon by a ruflian who leaped upon the table at 
 which I was writing. Sometimes the tables 
 would be overturned and the legs torn out for 
 bludgeons. As we reporters were young and 
 enthusiastic in our profession, and were 
 endowed with a fair talent for table leg, we 
 
THE SITUATION. 109 
 
 sometimes got in a little good, concussive work 
 on the crania of the disturbers of our peace and 
 
 our notes. 
 
 In Washington, moderate anti slavery men 
 were socially ostracised in slave holding circles, 
 an abolitionist's life was sometimes believed to 
 be in danger, and personal colhsions were per- 
 petually inmiinent. It was rumored that the 
 Southern leaders had concerted a scheme for 
 the introduction of slavery into the new Terri- 
 tories. This greatly excited the opponents of 
 slavery extension, and they determined to 
 oppose and defeat the alleged scheme at all 
 hazards ; and it was in the collisions which it 
 was expected woidd occur in the strife upon 
 this subject, that the statesmen of that day 
 apprehended danger to the country. 
 
 Such was the political and social situation at 
 Washington, on the opening of the second ses- 
 sion of the Thirtieth Congress, on December 
 4th, iS-iS. 
 
110 • GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 HALF-A-DOZEN NOTED SENATORS. 
 
 I. General Sam Houston. —In 1848 there 
 were thirty States in the Union and sixty Sena- 
 tors in Congress. Of all these sixty Senators 
 but three are now (May, .1889) hving, so far as 
 I know ; and they are Hannibal Hamlin, of 
 Maine ; Simon Cameron,^ of Pennsylvania ; and 
 Jefferson Davis, of Mississippi. 
 
 The four men of whom I intend to write par- 
 ticularly are Calhoun, Benton, Clay and Web- 
 ster. Clay was not in the Senate in 1818, but he 
 came in at the session of '49. 
 
 Besides these four pre-eminently conspicuous 
 men, there were others in the Senate deserving 
 
 * Cameron died June 28th, fifty days after the above was 
 written. 
 
GENERAL HOUSTON HI 
 
 of notice. There was General Sam Houston, of 
 Texas, about whose name more romance clus- 
 tered at that time than encircled tlie name of 
 any other American citizen. Houston was born <— - ^^u^ 
 in Noi^k— Gtrrc^tttar^in 1793, but went to Tennes- 
 see while a boy. He became a popular favorite 
 at an early age, and after a brilliant military 
 and legal career, he entered the arena of politics, 
 and was elected Governor of Tennessee when he 
 was thirty -four years old. It was predicted that 
 he would he President of the United States before . 
 he was fift3^ but a sudden and incomprehensible 
 stroke of fortune shattered his career and drove 
 him from civilization. 
 
 The mystery which surrounded this misfor- 
 tune has never been authoritatively cleared up. 
 Shortly after his inauguration as Governor of 
 Tennessee, Houston married a beautiful young 
 lady ; and the legend is that at the time of her 
 marriage she had a lover (not Houston) to whom 
 she was passionately devoted ; that her family 
 compelled her to marry Houston because he 
 
112 GREAT SE^^ATORS. 
 
 was Governor of Tennessee and the most popu- 
 lar man in the State except General Jackson ; 
 that Houston soon discovered the truth of the 
 matter and was overwhelmed by it— in fact, 
 was nearly driven insane by it. At all events, 
 he resigned his office and disappeared. It is said 
 that he did this in order that his wife might get 
 a divorce and marry the man she loved. After 
 a while it was found that he had gone to the 
 Cherokee country, had been made a chief of that 
 tribe, and was living in barbaric dignity ; that 
 is to say, in a wigwam plentifully supplied with 
 skins, wild game, whiskey and tobacco. 
 
 When the troubles between Texas and 
 Mexico began, Houston went to Texas, became 
 commander-in-chief of her army, defeated and 
 captured Santa Anna, in April, 1836, was elected 
 President of the Texan Repubhc, and finally, 
 when in ISiS Texas was annexed by treaty to 
 the United States, he was elected United States 
 Senator, and was a member of the Senate at the 
 period of which I am writing. 
 
GENERAL HOUSTON. 113 
 
 It is not probable that any one in these days 
 feels, or could feel such an interest in General 
 Houston as people, and especially young men, 
 felt in him forty years ago. The tragic circum- 
 stances which attended the struggle of Texas 
 for her independence were then fresh in our 
 memories. My heart leaps now and my blood 
 grows hot as I recall the time, in April, 1S36, 
 when the news of the terrible fight in the 
 Alamo, at San Antonio de Bexar, first came to 
 the sequestered village of Lockport, N. Y., 
 where I lived, then a boy just coming twelve 
 years old. I wept over the fate of the three 
 heroic colonels— Travis, Crockett and Bowie, 
 and young as I was I thirsted for vengeance 
 and prayed for vengeance on their slayers. 
 
 As we children on the Niagara frontier 
 were brought up to liate the British, wild 
 beasts, Indians, and foes of every kind whatso- 
 ever, and were taught to believe in the good old- 
 fashioned fire and brimstone hell, and in cognate 
 Scripture tenets, undiluted with any revisionary 
 
1 U GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 Sheol or Hades, I suppose that our militant 
 religion had a robustness and an edge wliicli 
 are impossible to the faith of boys brought up 
 on the human itarianism and the diluted the- 
 ology of the present day. At any rate, we all 
 prayed fervently to God to avenge Travis, 
 Crockett and Bowie on the Mexicans. And 
 when, four or five weeks afterwards, news 
 came of the massacre of Colonel Fannin and his 
 men' at Goliad, after they had surrendered 
 under a solemn agreement, in writing, that 
 they should be treated as prisoners of war, the 
 whole community was aroused to madness. 
 Public meetings were held and fiery resolutions 
 were passed. We prayed for vengeance more 
 fervently than ever. Twenty-four boys, of 
 which I was one, formed a company to march 
 down and ravage Mexico ; but news of Hous- 
 ton's defeat and capture of Santa Anna at San 
 Jacinto came in time to save that ill-fated 
 republic from the impending invasion. 
 
 The battle of San Jacinto was fought in 
 
GENERAL HOUSTON. 115 
 
 April, but Dews of the victory did not reach 
 Lockport till June. There were no railroads or 
 telegraphs in those days (1S36). But it did not 
 make any difference. The news was just as 
 fresh and welcome when it came, as though it 
 had been flashed over the wires on the day of 
 battle. We all rejoiced with exceeding great 
 joy, felt proud to think that our prayers for 
 vengeance had been answered so soon, and 
 took great comfort in our religion wiiich so 
 speedily led to such gratifying and practical 
 results. We were a simple ])eople who believed 
 in God, and loved heroes who won battles in 
 accordance with our prayers ; and from that 
 time General Sam Houston was set in our 
 hearts alongside Jackson and Washington. 
 
 Twelve years had passed, and I was now to 
 see this hero face to face, to hear him speak, 
 and report his words. My experience with 
 ^'grtat men " and politicians at the Whig Con- 
 vention the previous June, and at the Free-soil 
 Conventio]! in August, had i^ather chilled my 
 
1 1 6 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 expectations as to all sorts of heroes. Hence it 
 was not without apprehension that I first 
 approached General Houston and looked him 
 over, as he stood in an ante room of the Senate 
 Chamber, talking with his colleague, Senator 
 Rusk. I was not disappointed in his appear- 
 ance. It was easy to believe in his heroism, and 
 to imagine him leading a heady fight, and 
 dealing desti'uction on his foes. He was then 
 only fifty-five years old, and seemed to be in 
 perfect health and admirable physical condition. 
 He was a magnificent barbarian, somewhat 
 tempered with civiHzation. He was large of 
 frame, of stately carriage and dignified 
 demeanor, and had a lionlike countenance cap- 
 able of expressing the fiercest passions. His 
 dress was peculiar, but it was becoming to his 
 style. The conspicuous features of it were a 
 military cap, and a short military cloak of fine 
 blue broadcloath, with a blood-red lining. 
 Afterwards, I occasionally met him when he 
 wore a vast and picturesque sombrero and a 
 
GENERAL HOUSTON. 117 
 
 Mexican blanket — a sort of ornamented bed- 
 quilt, Avith a slit in the middle, through which 
 the wearer's head is thrust, leaving the blanket 
 to hang in graceful folds around the body. 
 
 Like other men of his class, General Hous- 
 ton was a heavy drinkei', but he seldom showed 
 the effect of his potations. It seemed to me as 
 though his wild life had unfitted him for civili- 
 zation. He was not a man to shine in a delib- 
 erative assembly. It was only at I'are intervals 
 that he took any part in the debates, and when 
 he did s[)eak, his remarks were brief. His 
 principal employment in the Senate was whit- 
 tling pine sticks. I used to wonder where he 
 got his pine lumber, but never fathomed the 
 mystery. He would sit and whittle away, and 
 at the same time keep up a muttering of discon- 
 tent at the long winded speakers, whom he 
 would sometimes curse for their intolerable ver- 
 bosity. Those who knew him well said that he 
 was tender hearted, and liad a chivalric regard 
 for women ; that he would make any personal 
 
118 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 sacrifice to promote the welfare of a lady friend 
 —a reputation which was directly in line with 
 his alleged conduct towards his wife. It was a 
 matter of common jocose remark that if "Old 
 San Jacinto " (that was Houston's nickname) 
 should ever become President, he would have a 
 Cabinet of women. 
 
 General Houston impressed me as a lonely, 
 melancholy man. And if the story of his early 
 life was true, he might well be lonely and 
 melancholy, notwithstanding his success and 
 his fame ; for that terrible blow which smote 
 him to the heart at the zenith of his splendid 
 young career, and dislocated his life, and drove 
 liim to the wilderness, must have inflicted 
 wounds that no political triumphs or military 
 glory could heal. He w^as a sincere lover of his 
 country, was indomitably patriotic, and stood 
 firmly by the Union to the day of his death, 
 which came in 1863. 
 
JEFFERSON DAVIS. 119 
 
 II. Jefferson Davis. 
 
 Another member of that Senatorial body who 
 deserves notice was Jefferson Davis, whose sub- 
 sequent career has made his name known 
 throughout the civihzed world. Mr. Davis w^as 
 son-in-law to General Taylor, the incoming 
 President. He was forty years old (1818) and 
 in vigorous health, but lame from a wound he 
 received only twenty-one months before, in the 
 Mexican war, in which he greatly distinguished 
 himself. Indeed, his gallant conduct at the 
 desperate battle of Buena Vista, where he re- 
 ceived his wound, had made him, next to Scott 
 and Taylor, one of the most popular heroes of 
 the day. 
 
 I have spoken of the excitement caused in 
 Lock port on the reception of the news of the 
 tragic events which occurred during the Texan 
 war for independence. A similar, but a much 
 deepei- excitement w^as felt throughout the en-^ 
 tire country, with regard to the fate of General 
 
120 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 Taylor and his army, for several weeks before 
 authentic news of the battle of Buena Vista was 
 received. It was reported that Taylor's forces 
 had been greatly reduced by the mismanage- 
 ment of the Administration at Washington, and 
 that "Old Rough and Ready," as General Tay- 
 lor was affectionately nicknamed, had been pur- 
 posely left to be destroyed to prevent his coming 
 into the field as a Whig candidate for the Presi- 
 dency. This rumor was, of course, cruelly 
 false, but it was believed, and gave additional 
 intensity to the interest which was felt in the 
 uncertain fate of the old hero. It became known 
 that Santa Anna, seeing his opportunity, had 
 rushed to Tavlor's destruction with an over- 
 whelming force. Our little army was beyond 
 the reach of all ordinary channels of communi- 
 cation, and so the countrv was left in terrible 
 suspense as to its fate. The ear of the nation 
 was turned with agonizing solicitude to catch 
 the first tidings from that devoted little band. 
 And when the news at last came — the news of 
 
JEFFERSON DAVIS. l2i 
 
 a bloody victory — gained aftei' two days of des- 
 perate fighting against overwhelming odds — it 
 came with a rush and a roar and an outburst of 
 rejoicing, such as the country had never before 
 witnessed or heard. The news was brought 
 across Texas to New Orleans by pony express, 
 and was conveyed through the country by the 
 same slow means, except where navigable rivers 
 gave an opportunity to send it by steamboat. 
 As the newspaper reporters and the bearers of 
 dispatches scurried through the country they 
 told the news along their routes, and the entire 
 population broke out with rejoicing in their 
 wake. City after city, village after village, 
 hamlet after hamlet was illuminated, and the 
 w4iole nation revelled in rejoicing. Every par- 
 ticular of the battle was minutely described, 
 and the descriptions were eagerly read. Among 
 these descriptions was a glowing account of 
 the gallantry of Colonel Jefferson Davis of 
 the First Regiment of Mississippi Volunteers, 
 who, though badly wounded, refused to quit 
 
1 22 GREAT SEN ATORS. 
 
 the field, but giimly sat on his horse at the 
 head of his regiment, and held a vital position 
 against a vastly superior force, until victory 
 was assured. 
 
 Colonel Davis, who was a graduate of West 
 Point and had served several years in the regu- 
 lar army, was an accomplished soldier. His 
 regiment, the First Mississippi, was attacked by 
 a force that outnumbered it six to one, and 
 was sorely pressed. But Davis, knowing that 
 if they were driven from their position the 
 American line of battle would be so weakened 
 as to imperil the safety of the entire army, held 
 his ground with invincible resolution. When 
 he was so badly wounded that the surgeon told 
 him he must retire, he refused to go. He had 
 his wound dressed while he sat in his saddle, 
 and held on. Santa Anna, growing desperate 
 at the successful resistance of the Mississippians, 
 finally ordered a brigade of cavalry to charge 
 them, Davis, seeing what was coming, formed 
 his regiment in the shape of a V, opening 
 
JEFFERSON DAVIS. 123 
 
 towards the enemy, while he sat at its apex. 
 According to the descriptions of the battle 
 pubhshed at the time, the Mexicans came gal- 
 lantly on and rode into the Y. The Mississip- 
 pians stood with their rifles at their shoulders 
 and their fingers on the triggers, awaiting the 
 orders of their colonel. When Davis saw that 
 the critical moment had come, his clarion voice 
 rang out the one word, " Fire !'' His troops 
 spontaneously responded, and blew the Mexi- 
 cans from their saddles. The end soon came. 
 The surviving foes, appalled by the slaughter, 
 galloped wildly from the field ; the victorious 
 Mississippians had a respite from their desperate 
 struggle, and their sorely wounded colonel was 
 able to seek the relief which he so much needed. 
 It was the wound thus and then received which 
 caused the lameness of Jefferson Davis when I 
 first saw him in Washington, in December, 
 1848, 
 
 Mr. Davis was a handsome man, with a 
 symmetrical figure, well up to the medium size, 
 
124 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 a piercing but kindly eye, and a gamy, chival- 
 ric bearing. He had a fine, sonorous voice, 
 and was always a fluent and sometimes an 
 eloquent speaker. He was ready and skillful 
 in debate, animated in style, occasionally 
 vehement in manner, but always courteous. 
 
 I — then a young man of twenty-four, and 
 only a few years out of the woods of Niagara 
 count V — became attached to Jefferson Davis, on 
 account of his genial personal kindness. 
 Sometimes thei'e were bills before the Senate 
 full of Indian names, or Mexican (Aztec) names, 
 or Spanish names, that the Senators could not 
 pronounce correctly and which we reporters 
 could not catch ; hence, it was necessary for us 
 to get sight of the names in print, in order to 
 write them out correctly in our reports. When- 
 ever a discussion on such a bill took place, I 
 used to apply to Mr. Davis for a copy of the 
 document, and he would always get me one, no 
 matter how much trouble it gave him to do so. 
 And he did it with such genial courtesy and 
 
JEFFERSON DAVIS. 125 
 
 kindness that 'his manner went straight to the 
 heart and stayed there. In fact, I used to 
 notice that it seemed to give Jefferson Davis 
 pleasure to do an act of kinduv^ss for anybody. 
 
 It is not probable that Mr. Davis remembers 
 any of these tlnngs (or that he even remembers 
 my name), but they are fresh in my recollec- 
 tion. I I often thought of Mr. Davis's kind 
 '^:ierjsoncil traits in after years, and especially 
 during the war, when any of us Northern men 
 would have been glad to have had him slain as 
 an enemy of the country, wliich sentiment he 
 doubtless fully and naturally reciprocated. But 
 now that all that is past, and the asperities of 
 war have given place to the amenities of peace, 
 I find only friendly feelings in my heart towards 
 Jefferson Davis, and would gladly reciprocate, 
 if opportunity should offer, the kindness which, 
 all those years ago, he showed to me, an obscure 
 young man, when he was a distinguished and 
 powerful Senator of the United States. 
 
126 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 III. John P. Hale. 
 
 John P. Hale, of New Hampshire, was the 
 first man wlio was elected a United States Sena- 
 tor on a square anti-slavery issue. It was re- 
 ported that when Hale first took his seat in the 
 Senate, his life was threatened by pro-slaveiy 
 fanatics. This may have been true ; for, 
 although no Southern man of distinction would 
 have thought of making or of countenancing 
 such a threat, there has never been any age or 
 any party in which, if there was a chance for an 
 act of folly to be committed, there was not some 
 fool on hand ready to commit it. An attempt 
 was certainly made to browbeat Hale into 
 silence ; but the effort was ludicrously futile. It 
 might as well have been attempted to silence the 
 thunder of Niagara. 
 
 A Methodist minister in New Hampshire said 
 that ^' John P. Hale had been specially selected 
 by Providence to inoculate the Senate of the 
 United States with the spirit and practice of free 
 
JOHN P HALE. 127 
 
 speech on the siihjecfc of slavery." I do not 
 know that the Methodist minister was in the 
 confidence of Providence, and so spoke by the 
 card ; but Hale's career as a Senator showed 
 that if he, in fact, was thus commissioned, 
 Providence exhibited its usual sagacity when it 
 chose him for the alleged purpose. 
 
 Hale was thorouglily brave, and always 
 stood up manfully for liis rights ; but he was so 
 constitutionally good-natured that he could not 
 be provoked to anger, and so incorrigibly lazy, 
 it was impossible to stinuilate him into a row. 
 In addition to these amiable qualities, he had an 
 inexhaustible fund of unctuous humor and 
 brilliant wit. His voice was a pleasant, pene- 
 trating tenor^ his enunciation was distinct, and 
 he spoke with extraordinary fluency. He had a 
 genius for debate. Nobody in the Senate could 
 successfully contend with him in repartee. 
 
 Senator Foote, of Mississippi (a loquacious 
 and good-natured man, who sometimes let his 
 tongue say what his heart would repudiate), 
 
128 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 permitted himself to declare, on the floor of the 
 Senate, that if the abolitionist, Hale, should 
 ever come to Mississippi, they would hang him 
 there on the tallest tree that could be found. 
 This shocked the Senate (and in fact the whole 
 country), and Southern Senators disclaimed 
 sympathy with such an unparliamentary utter- 
 ance. But Hale good-naturedly replied that if 
 the Senator from Mississippi should visit New 
 Hampshire, the intelligent and Christian people 
 of that State would not haug him, but would 
 treat him hospitably ; would show him their 
 churches and manufactories, their free schools 
 aud free laborers, and do all possible missionary 
 work on him ; aud if he still remained incorri- 
 ble, they would not hang him, but would hire a 
 hall for him, and let him talk as long as he 
 pleased, feeling certain that if they only gave 
 him rope enough, he would be sure to hang 
 himself. This good-natured and witty I'etort 
 was received with great laughter, in which 
 Senator Foote heartily joined. Hale invariably 
 
STEPHEJ^ A. DOUGLAS. 129 
 
 got the laugh on anybody who attacked him ; 
 and he finally became a favorite speaker with 
 the majority of his Senatorial colleagues. 
 
 IV. Stephen A. Douglas. 
 
 Stephen A. Douglas, of Illinois, had been in 
 the Senate less than two years, in 1848, but he 
 had begun to take rank as one of the foremost 
 debaters in that body. He had a full and rich 
 voice, was fluent in speecii, but spoke with 
 deliberation and perfect distinctness of enuncia- 
 tion, and was thoroughly self-possessed. Mr. 
 Douglas was called " The Little Giant," but he 
 was not a little man. He was short in stature, 
 but he was broad-shouldered and deep-chested, 
 and had a large and finely developed head. I 
 used to think that his head, though smaller than 
 Webster's, was modelled after the same pat- 
 tern. 
 
 Mr. Douglas's manner, though easy and 
 utterly unconstrained, was dignified and 
 urbane. Sometimes, when he was speaking 
 
 I 
 
130 GREAT SEXATORS. 
 
 with animation, he had a good natured, earnest, 
 UouHke look, blended with the utmost simplie- 
 itv and illummated with a hic:.h deocree of Intel- 
 ligence. On such an occasion, I doubt if a 
 stranger, who heard him for the tirst time and 
 did not even know his name, could have hstened 
 to him ten minutes without being strongly 
 attracted by his engaging manner, nor with- 
 out at least beginning to feel a pei-sonaJ regard 
 for him. He was still more winning in private 
 intercourse. There was not the least taint of 
 snobbishness alx)ut him : he was utterly devoid 
 of pi-etentiousness. He never put on what vain 
 and self-conscious Senators imagine to be airs of 
 Senatorial dis.nitv. His dignitv was of that 
 solid, genuine, American soit which can uncon- 
 sciously take cai-e of itself T\ithoiU airs of any 
 kind. 
 
 Mr. Douglas was fond of • young men and 
 young men Uked him. His easy, familiar, 
 friendly manner was always impressive but 
 never oppressive. Several times he had occa- 
 
 II 
 
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS. 131 
 
 sion, or else he pretended to have occasion, to 
 speak to me while I was in the repoi'ter's seat 
 (then several feet at the left of the Vice-Presi- 
 dent's chair), during a lull in the business of the 
 Senate. Every time he thus spoke to me, he laid 
 his arm u])on my shoulder in a companionable 
 way, and talked as though I were a younger 
 brother in whom he took an affectionate inter- 
 est. A long time afterwards, when Douglas 
 had been several years in his grave, I met an 
 enthusiastic friend of his in ^lankato, Minne- 
 sota, who liad risen to political distinction ; and 
 on describing his first meeting, when a young 
 man, with Douglas, at a party in Chicago, he 
 spoke of tliis same manner, and told me how it 
 thrilled him, and won his heart forever, when 
 the distinguished Senator laid his arm caressing- 
 ly upon his shoulder and spoke to him with 
 friendly interest and paterjial benignity. 
 
 Douglas died in ISr.I. I never saw him after 
 
 1850. 
 
T 
 
 132 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 V. Simon Cameron. 
 
 Senator Cameron impressed me as one of the 
 most knowing men in the Senate. Mentally 
 and physically he was energetic, active, alert. 
 He was a good debater. He always spoke 
 clearly and to the point. He never wasted any 
 words. As John P. Hale said, "he had a 
 boring-in style, like an augnr.-' He was a 
 Pennsylvania Tariff Democrat, and was aggres- 
 sive in asserting his opinions and convictions. 
 He brought on the first debate of the Session by 
 opposing a motion made by Senator Davis, of 
 Mississippi, to print twenty thousand extra 
 copies of the report of the Secretary of the 
 Treasury. 
 
 Kobert J. Walker, of Mississippi, was Secre- 
 tary of the Treasviry, and one of the leaders in 
 the free- trade crusade of that time, which cul- 
 minated in the repeal of the Whig protective 
 tariff of 1842, and the enactment of the Demo- 
 cratic revenue taiiff of 1846. His report con- 
 
SIMON CAMERON. 133 
 
 tained an elaborate disquisition on the advan- 
 tages of the financial policy which had thus 
 been inaugurated. 
 
 Senator Cameron said he didn't believe the 
 country wanted any extra copies of the Secre- 
 tary's report. Referring to the defeat of the 
 Democratic party in the receut election, lie said 
 'he thought that the coimtry had already 
 decided on the merits of the Secretary's system 
 of finance, and they had decided against it." 
 His remarks occasioned an outburst of indigna- 
 tion on the part of Democratic Senators, and 
 the discussion soon became heated. Senator 
 Hale, seizing the opportunity to let off a little 
 of his witty nonsense, said : 
 
 '' He was surprised to learn from the Senator 
 from Pennsylvania, that the people of this 
 country, in the late Presidential election, had 
 decided against the late tariff act, and in favor 
 of that of 18-lL>. As he undei-stood it, the one 
 great question connected with that election 
 was, whether General Taylor or either of the 
 
134: GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 other nominees was the most genuine Free- 
 soil man. And it was generally conceded that 
 General Taylor was the genuine, Simon Pure 
 Free-soil candidate, while Mr. Van Buren and his 
 friends were held as mere pretenders and inter- 
 lopers." [Laughter.] 
 
 Hale's jocosity, although it led to a hrief 
 diversion of the debate from the tariff to the 
 recent Presidential election, did not turn the 
 free-trade Democrats from their pursuit of the 
 offending Senator from Pennsylvania. They 
 soon returned to their attacks on him, and to 
 the support of the motion to print an extra 
 number of Secretary Walker's free-trade 
 report. The Whig Senators were, of course, 
 delighted at this domestic infelicity in the ranks 
 of their opponents, and some of them good- 
 naturedly helped it on by taking sides with 
 Cameron. But that belligerent Senator did not 
 need any help. He easily held his own, and 
 dealt blows right and left, with such vigor as 
 made the debate uncomfortable for his party. 
 
SniO.V CAMERON. 135 
 
 111 a sharp rejoinder to observations made by 
 some of the Southern Democrats, he said : 
 
 *'In my State, (Pennsylvania,) where the 
 people live by their honest industry, where 
 every man works, and subsists upon the labor 
 of his own hands, there the tariff was the ques- 
 tion which was discussed, the issue that was 
 placed before the people. The Democratic party 
 would not have been prostrated had it not been 
 for this tinancial system." 
 
 But Cameron's opposition to the printing of 
 twenty thousand extra copies of Secretary 
 Walkei-'s free- trade report was futile. The 
 motion to print was carried by a vote of 29 to 
 21. 
 
 The reporters felt grateful to Cameron for 
 bringing on this debate. They were paid a 
 stipend of ten dollars a week, and four dollars a 
 column for their reports. A week of the session 
 had passed without any debate, and all the com- 
 pensation the reporters had received was their 
 weekly stipend of ten dollars. It may be 
 
136 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 imagined, therefore, how dehghted they were 
 to have a debate brought on which put many 
 shekels in their purses. 
 
 Cameron was always friendly to the report 
 ers. On one occasion, when Senator Badger, of 
 North Carolina, introduced a resolution " that 
 the Committee on Printing inquire iuto the 
 expediency of discontinuing the contract made 
 at the last session for publishing the reports of 
 the debates and proceedings of Congress," he 
 spoke warmly and emi)hatically in favor of the 
 reporters. The contract to which Senator Bad- 
 ger's resolution referred, was made with tine 
 National IntellUjencer, the organ of the Whig 
 party, and the Union, the organ of the Demo- 
 cratic party. Each of those papers was paid 
 seven dollars a column for its Congressional 
 reports. The proprietors of the papers inter- 
 preted their contract so liberally that they 
 included everything which came before Con- 
 gress — President's messages, reports of heads of 
 Departments, and public documents of every 
 
SIMON CAMERON. I37 
 
 kind — in " Tlic (lel)ates and proceedings," and 
 pul)Iislied them at seven dollars acolmnn. This 
 occasioned a good deal of dissatisfaction. In 
 addili<jn to this, some of the Senators were 
 indignant hecause tlieir speeches did not read as 
 well in print as they would have liked them to 
 ivad. There was an extended debate on the 
 i( '.solution, whicli was finally narrowed down to 
 an animated discussion of the ability and faith- 
 fulness of thr It porters. On this question 
 Senator Cam(M-on si)oke out with vigor and ap- 
 preciat ion. 
 
 ''1 do not l)elieve," he said, "there is a 
 better set of men in the world, in their profes- 
 sion, than those who are now engaged in 
 i-e])ortini;- our debates. They are highly 
 educated, talented, and accomplished, and they 
 devote more time to their profession here than 
 any class of men engaged in any other profes- 
 sion in the world devote to labor." 
 
 The reporters all liked Senator Cameron. 
 The system of reporting the Congressional 
 
13S GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 debates was continued without modification, or 
 any more fault-finding. 
 
 Senator Cameron had the reputation of 
 possessing the Jacksouian virtue of standing 
 inflexibly by his friends. He also had the 
 Jacksonian })luck and grit, as Senator Foote, 
 of Mississippi, discovered on a memorable 
 occasion. It was the last night of tlie Thirtieth 
 Congress, March 3, 1849, Avlien the session of 
 the Seiiate was prolonged till seven o'clock on 
 Sunday morning. Some of the members took 
 the ground that the Thirtieth Congress went 
 out of existence at the hour of midnight, and 
 that Senators whose term of oflice expired with 
 the termination of Congress (of whom Cameron 
 was one) ceased to be Senators at midnight, and 
 had no right to take part in the proceedings of 
 the Senate after that hour. That prolt)nged 
 session wore out the patience of many Senators, 
 and violent outbursts of ill-temper repeatedly 
 occurred. Senator Foote was especially aggra- 
 vatimr in his manner towards members whose 
 
SDIOX CAMERON. I39 
 
 terms, as he all<^ged, had expired, and his con- 
 duct finally led to a disgraceful scene. About 
 three o'clock on Sunday morning, while Senator 
 Berrien, of Georgia, was speaking, there 
 suddenly arose— I now copy from the report : 
 
 [Ci'ies of " Question I question ! question!"] 
 
 Mk ?>kkrien. Who calls question ? 
 
 Mr. Foote. It is parliamentary to do so. 
 
 ]\Ir. Hannegan. When I said "question"! 
 1h()n<j:ht tJK' Senator from Georgia had taken 
 liis seat. 
 
 Mr. Cameron. I called for the question, 
 l)ecause I was astonished that men holding the 
 liigh and r(»s])()nsihle station of Senators of the 
 United States — 
 
 Mr. Foote. I call tlie Senator from Pennsyl- 
 vania to order. He has no right to talk here, 
 still less to intenupt other Senators. His term 
 of oflict? has expired. 
 
 ^ -Jr * ^ * 
 
 Mr. Cameron. I rise to a point of order. I 
 wish to know whether such language is parlia- 
 mentary. 
 
 Mr. 'Foote. It is very proper under the 
 
 circumstances. . , 
 
 Mr. Cameron. I did not ask his opinion. I 
 can judge tor myself, sir, of what is right and 
 
 ])roi)er. i <- ±1 o 
 
 [Otlier words were uttered by botn tiie hen- 
 ators fi-oni Pennsvlvania and Mississippi, and 
 something ai)proaching a personal colhsion 
 ensued.] 
 
IttO GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 That is the polite and euphemistic way in 
 which the report puts it ; hut the plain truth of 
 the matter was that the two Senators called 
 each other opprobrious names and then clinched. 
 As General Houston said : " The eloquent and 
 impassioned gentlemen got into each othei''s 
 hair." They were soon separated, but not until 
 it became apparent that the Keystone State had 
 the better man in the field, and he was not 
 molested again. 
 
 Mr. Cameron's subsequent career forms a 
 part of the country's history. He always had 
 devoted friends who loved to celebrate his vir- 
 tues, but were sometimes indiscreet in their 
 expressions of admiration. For example : 
 When Cameron resigned his office as Secl^etary 
 of War, in 1862, a Pennsylvania editor gave 
 him two columns of eulogy, winding up with a 
 burst of equivocal enthusiasm. " Thirty years 
 ago," said the ardent editor, "Simon Came- 
 ron landed from a raft at Harrisburgh, with 
 only a dime in his pocket, and yesterday he 
 
HANiN'iBAL HAMLIN. . 14£ 
 
 left the War Office worth five miUions of 
 dollars." 
 
 VI. Hannibal Hamlin. 
 
 Mr. Hamlin is the youngest of the three (or, 
 since Mr. Cameron's recent death, of the two) 
 survivors of the sixty Senators of 1&4S. He 
 was horn August 27, 1809 ; Jefferson Davis, 
 June 3, 1808 ; Simon Cameron, March 8, 1799. 
 
 Ml'. Hamlin's distinguished career has made 
 ills name and liis history familiar to his country- 
 men. 1 dn not remember that I ever spoke to 
 him, and lie so seldom took part in the Sena- 
 torial debates that my observation of him was 
 too slight to fix his individuality clearly in my 
 recollection. I remember, however, two con- 
 victions which his appearance impressed upon 
 me ; oiie of which was that he was a man of 
 absolute honesty and uprightness ; the other, 
 that he was a genial and humorous man. I 
 i-emember thinking that he must be a good 
 story teller, and that he would be a pleasant 
 companion with whom to pass an afternoon or 
 
142 • GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 evening on the deck of a steamboat, oi' on the 
 l^iazza of a hotel at a summer resort. 
 
 There were other men in the Senate at this 
 l^eriod who were then notable personages. But 
 there is not sufficient surviving jjubhc interest 
 in them to wan-ant me in sketching them here. 
 They did not happen to do anything under my 
 observation, or say anything in my hearing 
 which was noteworthy, and as I never gave 
 them paiticular attention, I have only a vague 
 recollection of their personal characteristics. I 
 will therefore pass on to the delineation of the 
 four great Senators — Calhoun, Benton, Clay 
 and Webster — of whose characters and person- 
 alities I have made special and prolonged study. 
 
 VII. Alexander H. Stephens — An Incident 
 
 AT Judge McLean's. 
 
 Before entering upon the delineation of the 
 character of Calhoun, Benton, Clay and Web- 
 ster, I will refer to a distinguished member of 
 the House of Eepresentatives — Alexander H. 
 
ALEXANDER H. STEPHENS. US 
 
 Stephens, of Georgia— because of an incident 
 which has a bearing on a matter of some im- 
 portance which was subsequently discussed by 
 Calhoun. 
 
 Tlie Honorable John McLean, of Ohio, one 
 of the Justices of the United States Supreme 
 Court, and his wife became so interested in 
 phonography, the new system of short-hand 
 writing, then coming into vogue, that they 
 arranged for me to give a lecture upon the sub- 
 ject in their parlors. They invited a distin- 
 guislied company to hear the lecture. Mr. 
 Stepliens was present. After I had explained 
 the system, and (with the aid of a blackboard) 
 taught th(3 audience to read simple sentences 
 wi'itten in phonographic characters, an exhibi- 
 tion of rapid writing was given by Dennis F. 
 Murpliy, who for many years has been the 
 most accomplished reporter in the United States 
 Senate, but was then a pupil of mine, fourteen 
 years old. The first thing which was read for 
 Murphy to take down in short-hand was a pas- 
 
144 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 sage from the Declaration of Independence. 
 When the exercises were concluded, and 
 Murphy had finished reading the dictated pas- 
 sage from his phonographic notes, Mr. Stephens 
 asked : 
 
 '' How old is that hoy ?" 
 
 *' Fourteen years," I replied. 
 
 '^Then that is no test," he said. " Before I 
 was fourteen years old, I knew the Declaration 
 of Independence and the Constitution of the 
 United States hy heart. Read something else 
 for the hoy to write down.'' 
 
 Several passages from newspapers and hooks 
 were read. Murphy, who had a remarkahle gift 
 for rapid writing, took them down with ease, 
 and read them correctlv from his notes, for 
 which he was much applauded. x\s the company 
 was dispersing, the Hon. Thomas Ewing, of 
 Ohio (who came into General Taylor's cahinet 
 a few months afterwards, as Secretary of the 
 Interior), jocularly remarked to the Representa- 
 tive from Georgia : 
 
GEORGIA BOYS. 
 
 145 
 
 a Ui 
 
 Stephens, you must have been a precocious 
 boy to have known the Declaration of Independ- 
 ence and the Constitution of the United States 
 by heart before you were fourteen years old." 
 
 '' ( )h, no : " Stephens replied. '' My school- 
 fellows were equally familiar with them. We 
 were brought up on those documents, and kuew 
 them sentence by sentence." 
 
 "Do any of you know them by heart now ?" 
 asked Ewiiig. 
 
 ''I can speak only for myself, as to that," 
 Ste])hens answered. " I do not know that I could 
 repeat them verbatim now, but I could come 
 pretty near it." 
 
 A few days afterwards, I met Mr. Ewing ; 
 and the phonographic lecture and Master Mur- 
 phy's wonderful skill in short-hand writing 
 being referred to, I remarked that he (Ewing) 
 ''seemed to tliink that Mr. Stephens was mis- 
 taken as to the famiharity of Georgia boys of 
 fourteen with the Declaration of Independence 
 and the Constitution of the United States." 
 
146 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 ^*It was remarkable," Mr. Ewing replied; 
 ^'but I have no doubt that Stephens told the 
 truth. Such things run in streaks, in schools, 
 in neighborhoods. A certain set of boys some- 
 times astonish people by their familiarity with 
 subjects which no one would suppose them to 
 have any knowledge of. One clever and ambi- 
 tious boy, who is passionately devoted to some 
 particulai* study, will inspire many of his school- 
 fellows with a like enthusiasm, and they vvill 
 make that study a hobby. That was probably 
 the case in Stephens's set ; but I do not sup- 
 pose that in general the boys of Georgia are 
 q.ny more familiar with the Declaration of 
 Independence and tlie Constitution of the 
 United States than are the boys of Ohio or any 
 other State." 
 
 It will be seen further on, that Cnlhoun's 
 account of the education of boys in South Caro- 
 lina was somewhat out of joint with Mr. Steph- 
 ens's statement as to the mental acquisitions 
 of boys in Georgia. 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUN. j^- 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 John C. Calhoun. 
 I. Notions of Calhoun in the North. — My feel- 
 ings TOAVARDS . him.— His personal 
 
 APPEARANCE. — My CHANGE OF 
 FEELING IN HIS FAVOR. 
 
 Forty years ago (1848) John C. Calhoun, of 
 South Carohna, was one of the most noted men 
 on the American continent. Tlie rabid aboH- 
 tionists of the North — of whom I was one— 
 who hated slavery and slaveholders with viru- 
 lent animosity, felt towards Calhoun the same 
 as Southern men, who hated abohtionists with 
 eciual virulence, felt towards WiUiam I^lo.xd 
 Garrison. All through the North, Calhoun was 
 known as the '^ Great Secessionist," the '"Great 
 Nullifier," the "Great Disunionist," and the 
 "Great" bad man generally, who had long 
 
I 
 
 148 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 been trying to destroy the Union. As I was 
 full to the brim of abohtion bigotry and preju- 
 dice, when I went to Washington I was 
 naturally eager to get a sight of the great 
 South Carolina nullifier and disunionist ; and 
 when he was pointed out to me, in the Senate 
 Chamber, I gave him a searching scrutiny. 
 His appearance satisfied me completely. He 
 seemed to be a perfect image and embodiment 
 of the devil. Had I come across his likeness 
 in a copy of Milton's Paradise Lost, I should 
 have at once accepted it as a picture of Satan, 
 and as a masterpiece of some great artist who 
 had a peculiar genius for Satanic portraiture. 
 He w^as tall and gaunt. His ( omplexion was 
 dark and Indian like, and there seemed to be 
 an inner complexion of a dark soul shining out 
 through the skin of the face. His eyes were 
 large, black, piercing, scintillant. His hair 
 was iron gray, and rising nearly straight from 
 the scalp, fell over on all sides, and hung down 
 in thick masses like a lion's mane. His feat- 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUN l|.> 
 
 ures were strongly marked, and their expi-essi..i, 
 was firm, stern, aggressive, threatening. 
 
 It was some time before I heard Callioun's 
 voice, as he seldom addressed the Senate. But 
 at last a petition from the inhabitants of New 
 Mexico (one of the Territories recently acquired 
 from Mexico by our Government) was presented 
 to the Senate, by Colonel Benton and Senator 
 Clayton, of Delaware, in which the petitioners 
 prayed that Congress would protect tlieni. 
 against the introduction of slavery into that 
 Territory. Hera was that everlasting Wilniot 
 Proviso again, coming up from an unexpected 
 quarter. It brought Calhoun to his feet, and 
 his rising at once brought the previously scat- 
 tered and indifferent attention of the Senate to 
 a focus. Silence reigned, and every eye was 
 turned upon the Senator from South Carolina. 
 He denounced the petition— coming, as he said, 
 "from a people conquered by our arms "—as 
 impertinent and insolent, and as an insult to 
 the Senate and the country. I was nnich 
 
150 GREAT SENATOHS. 
 
 impressed by the clearness of Calhoun's views, 
 by the bell like sweetness and resonance of his 
 voice, the elegance of his diction, and the 
 exquisite courtesy of his demeanor. Such a 
 combination of attractive qualities was a revela- 
 tion to me, and I spontaneously wished that 
 Calhoun was an abolitionist, so we could have 
 him talking on our side. I thought that if he 
 only w^ere on our side, he might even eclipse 
 .Wendell Phillips as an anti- slavery orator. 
 
 The petition from the inhabitants of New 
 Mexico had been prepared at the instigation of 
 Colonel Benton, on purpose to uncover the 
 designs of the slavery extensionists. In 
 fact, it was surmised that Benton wrote the 
 petition himself ; and when Calhoun declared 
 that it was an insult to the Senate and the 
 country, and stigmatized it as impertinent and 
 insolent, Benton, who hated Calhoun, was en- 
 raged and replied to him with great bitterness. 
 Benton's manner was, and evidently was 
 intended to be, insulting and exasperating. It 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUN. l.-.l 
 
 seemed to me that Calhoun would be unable to 
 refrain from resenting it in an emphatic way. 
 But he treated it with absolute indifference. I 
 watched him as closely as I could, and it was 
 impossible to tell from his manner that he was 
 conscious of anything which Benton was saying. 
 The debate became general and a good deal of 
 bad tem|)er was shown. Benton repeatedly 
 assailed Calhoun in an exasperating fashion, but 
 he did not seem to mind it. He replied to 
 several of Benton's attacks, and occasionally 
 wariued into vehemence, but maintained bis 
 dignified demeanor and exquisite courtesy to 
 the end of the debate. At the beginning of the 
 contest, my feelings were against Calhoun and 
 1 wanted him to be worsted ; but at the close, 
 alth(3Ugh I was opposed to the principles which 
 he advocated, my personal feelings were in his 
 favor, and his physiognomy seemed to have 
 undergone a change. Instead of looking like a 
 devil, he impressed me as a high-toned, elegant 
 gentleman, with a brilliant intellect, a sweet 
 
152 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 disposition, a sound heart, and a conscientious 
 devotion to what he believed to be right. I was 
 vexed and astonished at myself that such a 
 change should have occurred in my feelings 
 towards the Great Nullifier. It seemed to me 
 that I was becoming a traitor to my status as 
 an abolitionist ; but as time went on the change 
 also went on in spite of all that I could do. 
 
 II. A New Year's Call— The State Eights 
 Doctrine from Calhoun's Lips. 
 
 On New Year's day, 18-1:9, I called on Mr. 
 Calhoun, at his request, to explain to him the 
 new system of phonographic writing, which 
 was then exciting a good deal of interest. Mr. 
 Calhoun being too unwell to make or receive 
 calls that day, he utilized the time by taking a 
 lesson in phonography. Accompanied by Mas- 
 ter Murphy, I went to Mr. Calhoun's residence 
 at twelve o'clock and stayed till sundown. He 
 was not at all well ; in fact, was never again 
 well, and died in fifteen months from that da v. 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUN. \i^^ 
 
 After getting through with phonography, in tlie 
 philosophy of which he took great interest, as 
 he also did in the exhibition of remarkable skill 
 in its use which was given by Master Muri)]iy, 
 he branched off into reporting generally, and 
 said, among other things, that reporters habit- 
 ually made one mistake in their reports of his 
 speeches which annoyed him. 
 
 '^ What is that mistake ?" I asked, to which 
 he replied : 
 
 ^' They make me say ^ this Nation,^ instead 
 of Hhis Union.'' I never use the word Nation 
 in speaking of the United States ; I always use 
 the word Union, or Confederacy. We are not 
 a nation, but a Union, a confederacy of equal 
 and sovereign States. England is a nation, 
 Austria is a nation, Eussia is a nation, but the 
 United States are not a nation. " 
 
 Then he launched out into his reasons for 
 never calhng the United States a nation, and 
 touched upon his whole political philosoj^liy. I 
 was so charmed with his manner, with the 
 
• 
 
 154 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 clearness of his ideas and the precision with 
 which he expressed them, that on subsequent 
 occasions I asked him many questions on the 
 subject, which he always copiously answered, 
 and seemingly with pleasure. He used the 
 words sovereign and sovereignty so often in 
 speaking of the * ' sovereign States " and the 
 '* sovereignty of the people," that on one 
 occasion I asked him where sovereignty origin- 
 ated, and how one State got to be more sover- 
 eign than the United States — than all the States 
 taken together. 
 
 His reply, which follows, I wrote out in 
 short-hand as soon as I could. It is not probable 
 that I reproduced it verbatim, but the substance 
 is accurately given. He said : 
 
 "That question goes deep. Sovereignty 
 resides in the people. It is not created hy them ; 
 it is horn in them, and cannot be alienated from 
 them. In considering the nature of our iiistitu- 
 tions, a distinction must be made between 
 sovereignty and government. Government, 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUN. 155 
 
 unlike inborn sovereignty, is a creation of the 
 people — is the instrument devised by the peoi)le 
 for exercising their sovereignty over their own 
 affairs and for their own convenience and beiK*- 
 fit. Sovereignt}' is natural, government is 
 artificial. Sovereignty is primary, government 
 is secondary. Sovereignty is inalienable and 
 unchangeable, while government is alienable, 
 and may be changed, or transferred even, at the 
 will of sovereignty— that is to say, at the will of 
 the citizens of the State who are the sovereigns. 
 '*Tn our Union, or Confederacy, each State 
 is a sovereign State. The thirteen original 
 sovereign States learned by experience that 
 their political necessities comprised two distinct 
 classes of governmental wants; first, local wants 
 pertaining to domestic affairs and circumscribed 
 by State hues ; second, general wants relating 
 to affairs originating or extending beyond State 
 lines. For this reason it became expedient tiiat, 
 in addition to their State governments, whi.h 
 could administer all local affairs, the States 
 
156 ^REAT SENATORS. 
 
 should institute a general government, or com- 
 mon agent, to attend to general and common 
 and foreign affairs, such as are common to all 
 the States and require the exercise of jurisdic- 
 tion beyond State lines. The States did institute 
 such common agent or general government, to 
 wit : the Federal Government, to transact cer- 
 tain business for them ; but they did not endow 
 it with an atom of sovereign power, and in fact 
 could not do so, because sovereignty is inalien- 
 able, and perpetually i-esides, where its Creator 
 originally placed it, in the hearts and minds of 
 individual freemen." 
 
 ''How then," I asked, "does a State get 
 to be sovereign ?" to which Mr. Calhoun re- 
 plied : 
 
 " The people of a State are a political unit ; 
 as their interests are unified, homogeneous, one, 
 they (the people) are combined and solidified 
 into what is simply a larger individuality, and 
 their individual sovereignty is transferred into 
 a unified political or State sovereignty, making 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUN. 
 
 157 
 
 the State itself sovereign within its oivn lines ; 
 but its sovereignty cannot be extended beyond 
 its own boundaries. The problem whicli tlie 
 framers of the Federal Constitution, in their 
 efforts to institute a common agent to act as the 
 servant of the sovereign States, had to solve, 
 was, liow to create a government which would 
 answer the purpose of the States without 
 impairing their sovereignty ; in other words, 
 how to secure the services of an efficient ser- 
 vant, and at the same time impose such condi- 
 tions that their servant would not and could 
 not become their master. Hence, in the 
 Federal Compact or Constitution, they carefully 
 defined and limited the powers which they con- 
 ferred upon or delegated to their common agent 
 and expressly reserved to themselves all powers 
 not specifically delegated ; and no power can be 
 exercised by their common agent, the Federal 
 Government, unless it is specifically granted in 
 the Federal Compact, which gives it all the 
 power it has. Therefore, if this common agent, 
 
158 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 the Federal Government, goes beyond the scope 
 of its agreement with its employers (the sover- 
 eign States), its action is not binding npon its 
 employers, bnt is void, and may be repealed 
 or nullified by them. In fact, the compact is 
 broken by such usui-pation on the part of the 
 common agent, and any State which, in its own 
 judgment, is injured or oppressed by such 
 unconstitutional action, may, at its own will 
 and pleasure, recede from the original compact 
 or agreement, and secede from the Union." 
 
 Here we have stated in an off hand, collo- 
 quial way, the famous State Rights or Secession 
 docti'ine, which led to our late war, and cost 
 many lives and much money. 
 
 III. The Secession Doctrine originally not 
 A South Carolina, but a Massachu- 
 setts HERESY. 
 
 The popular notion is that the State Rights, | 
 Secession, or Disunion doctrine was originated 
 by Calhoun and was a South Carolina heresy. 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUN. I59 
 
 But that popular notion is wrong. According 
 to the best information I have been able to 
 acquire on the subject, the State Eights or 
 Secession doctrine, was originated by Josiah 
 Quincy, and was a Massachusetts heresy. 
 
 In 1811, a bill for the admission of what was 
 then called the Orleans Territory (now the 
 State of Louisiana) into the Union as a State, 
 was under discussion in the House of Repre- 
 sentatives. Josiah Quincy, of Massachusetts, 
 and many of his colleagues, opposed the measure 
 on the ground that Congress hadn't the consti- 
 tutional power to admit into the Union a for- 
 eign people or State, whose territory was not 
 a part of the original national domain at the 
 time the Constitution was adopted, and the 
 formation of the Union consummated. Mr. 
 Quincy declared that if the bill was passed, and 
 Orleans (now Louisiana) were admitted, the act 
 would be subversive of the Union, and the 
 several States would be freed from their federal 
 bonds and obligations, "and that, as it will be 
 
160 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 the right of all, [the States,] so it will be the 
 duty of some, to prepare clefiDitely for a separa- 
 tion — amicably if they can, violently if they 
 must." 
 
 Mr. Poin dexter, with many others, was so 
 shocked by this declaration that he called Mr. 
 
 Quincy to order; "and," as the report says, 
 (see Abridged Cougressional Debates, Vol. IV, 
 
 page 327,) "Mr. Quincy repeated and justified 
 the remark he had made, which, to save all 
 misapprehension, he committed to writing in 
 the following words : 'If this bill passes, it is 
 my deliberate opinion that it is virtually a dis- 
 solution of the Union ; that it will free the 
 States from their moral obligation, and as it 
 will be the right of all, so it will be the duty of 
 some, definitely to prepxre for a separation, 
 amicably if they can, violently if they must.'" 
 The Speaker, Joseph B. Varnum, of Massa- 
 chusetts, ruled that the last clause of Mr. 
 Quincy's remarks was unparliamentary and out 
 of order. Mr. Quincy appealed from the 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUN. 161 
 
 Speaker's decision, and his appeal was sustained 
 by a vote of 56 to 53. Thus it was decided by 
 the House of Representatives, under the lead of 
 one of the most enlightened and patriotic sons 
 of Massachusetts, that it was parliamentary 
 and proper to discuss the dissolution of the 
 Union, and to maintain that in case of a certain 
 specified contingency it would be the right of 
 all the States, and the duty of some of them, 
 definitely to prepare for a separation, amicably 
 if they could, violently if they must. Is not 
 this the complete and exact logical sum and 
 ' outcome of Calhoun's theory, as just given ? 
 The extraordinary scene in which Mr. Quincy 
 thus played the leading role, occurred in the 
 House of Representatives on the lith day of 
 January, 1811. Calhoun did not take his seat 
 in that House until the 4th day of the ensuing 
 November. He was then twenty-nine years old. 
 What his convictions were at that time as to 
 the right of secession we have a brief but sig- 
 nificant indication. On the 26th day of Novem- 
 
i 
 
 162 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 ber, 1811, when war with Great Britain was 
 becoming imminent, Calhoun submitted to the 
 House of Representatives a report on Foreign 
 Relations, in which occurred the following 
 memorable passage, two words of which I shall 
 take tlie liberty of italicising : 
 
 *' If we have not rushed to the field of battle 
 like the nations who are led by the mad am- 
 bition of a single chief or the avarice of a 
 corrupted court, it has not proceeded from a 
 fear of war, but from our love of justice and 
 humanity. That proud spirit of liberty and 
 independence, v,rhich sustained our fathers in 
 the successful assertion of their liberties against 
 foreign aggression, is not yet sunk. The patri- 
 otic fire of the Revolution still burns in the 
 American breast with a holy inextinguishable 
 flame, and will conduct this nation to those 
 high destinies, which are not less the reward of 
 dignified moderation, than of exalted valor. " 
 
 This passage was widely published at the 
 time, and deservedly gave great prestige to Cal- 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUN. IC,3 
 
 houn's name ; but the present reader (if he be 
 an observing one) will probably be most struck 
 by the fact that in it Calhoun, with his own 
 hand (and not by means of a mistaken report- 
 er's hand), wrote "this nation" instead of 
 " this Union." It is evident, therefore, that he 
 had not then adopted the disunion or secession 
 doctrines which had been broached in the House 
 of Representatives ten months before, by Josiah 
 Quincy, of Massachusetts. 
 
 Two years afterwards, on January 8th, 1813, 
 (see page 656 of the same Volume of Debates,) 
 Henry Clay taunted Quincy and his associates 
 with their "plot to dismember the Union, "and, 
 referring to Quincy's declaration, made two 
 years before, exclaimed : "The gentleman can- 
 not have forgotten his own sentimezit; uttered 
 even on the floor of this House, ' Peaceably if 
 we can, forcibly if we must !' " 
 
 Thirty-three years after Josiah Quincy had 
 thus taken the lead in advocating the doctrine 
 of disunion and secession, to Avit, in ISil:, when 
 
164 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 the question of the annexation of Texas was 
 agitating the country, another distinguished son 
 of Massachusetts, Charles Francis Adams, then 
 a member of the Massachusetts Legislature, 
 followed up Mr. Quincy's lead, by introducing 
 a resolution embodying the doctrine so long 
 before initiated by Mr. Quincy in the House of 
 Representatives. Mr. Adams's resolution 
 declared in almost the same words that had 
 been used by Mr. Quincy in the debate on the 
 admission of Louisiana, that the General Gov- 
 ernment has not the constitutional power to 
 unite an independent foreign state with the 
 United States, as no such power had been dele- 
 gated to it, and that "the Commonwealth of 
 Massachusetts, faithful to the compact between 
 the people of the United States, according to 
 the plain mean in g and intent in which it was 
 understood and acceded to by them, is sincerely 
 anxious for its preservation, and that it is deter- 
 mined, as it doubts not other States are, to 
 submit to undelegated Powers in no body of 
 
 1 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUN. 1(J5 
 
 men on earth ; and that the project of the 
 annexation of Texas, unless resisted on the 
 threshold, may tend to diive these States into a 
 dissolution of the Union." 
 
 Calhoun could not ask for any better doctrine 
 of disunion and secession than was presented 
 in that resolution, and that resolution was 
 adopted by the Legislature of Massachusetts, 
 under the lead of Charles Francis Adams who, 
 four years afterwards, was the Free- soil candi- 
 date for the Vice-Presidency of that Union 
 whose possible dissolution he so calmly contem- 
 plated in 1844. I do not present these facts for 
 the purpose of making out a condemnatory case 
 against Massachusetts. That magnificent old 
 Commonwealth can stand the truth ; and so 
 can her illu'^trious sons. The truth is that in 
 times of wild excitement, when we were all 
 running at the eyes and nose with political influ- 
 enza and frothing at the mouth with se(ffcnal 
 madness, it was customary for all sorts of 
 people to talk glibly about disunion, and about 
 
166 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 ^'letting the South go." Even Charles Snmner 
 said: "If they wiU only go, we will build a 
 bridge of gold for them to go over on." We 
 didn't know how dear to our hearts the Union 
 was until it w^as assailed by hostile arms, and 
 we were in immediate danger of losing it. 
 
 It is possible that Calhoun's adulatory 
 admirers will not thank me for defending him 
 against what they may consider one of his 
 strongest claims upon their admiration ; but it 
 is due to the spirit of justice and fair play that 
 the truth of this matter should be presented. 
 Ever since I can remember anything about 
 public affairs, Calhoun has been anathematised m 
 and vituperated with venomous animosity as the 
 one man, the only man responsible for the prev- 
 alence of disunion and secession doctrines. I ' 
 zealously joined in the outcry against him for 
 years, and hated his very name, until I became 
 acquainted with him and with the facts. I have 
 no intention now of attempting to exonerate 
 him from the responsibilities which he incurred 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUN. ic>7 
 
 by his political course, but I do wish to 
 treat him fairly. And for that purpose I wish 
 fairly to apportion the responsibility for the 
 original insemination of the pubhc mind with 
 the doctrines of disunion and secession ; and 
 without intending disrespect to any State or any 
 statesmen by the application of an old adage to 
 the case, I insist that what is sauce for the 
 South Carolina goose is also sauce for the 
 Massachusett's gander. 
 
 Inasmuch as the doctrines of disunion and 
 secession have became obsolete, and the course 
 of events has determined that we are a Nation, 
 and a Nation w4th a big N, I will not give Web- 
 ster's refutation of the doctrines, but will dismiss 
 the subject with a simple recurrence to the 
 remark wdiich introduced it, namely : Calhoun's 
 declaration that it annoyed him to have report- 
 ers represent him as calling the United States a 
 Nation instead of a Union. After the exposi- 
 tion which has been given of the great South 
 Carolinian's views, the reader will readily 
 
168 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 understa]id why such a misrepresentation of his 
 language was so annoying to Calhoun. 
 
 lY. Calhoun's Views on the Education of 
 Boys — His Opinion of General Jackson. 
 
 During the interview on New Year's Day, 
 1849, the value of phonography as an educa- 
 tional instrument came under discussion, and 
 Calhoun branched off into educational methods 
 generally. He contrasted Southern with North- 
 ern education, and thought that the people of 
 the North were fundamentally wrong as to their 
 notions on the subject. He said they cultivated 
 the intellect almost exclusively, to the neglect 
 of everything else, and especially to the neglect 
 of the body. It will be seen from Calhoun's 
 account of the training of South Carolina boys 
 that it differed somewhat from the training of 
 Georgia boys, according to the statement of 
 Alexander H. Stephens, given at the close of 
 the preceding chapter. 
 
 ''Look at that boy," he said, nodding 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUN. ;l(;(j 
 
 towards Master Murphy, who was small in 
 stature, but had a large and finely developed 
 head, and a countenance indicating unusual 
 intellectual culture in one so young : — "Look at 
 that boy, with the body of a child and the head 
 of a man. He looks as intellectual as a college 
 professor, and yet see how deficient he is in 
 strength and physical toughness. In South 
 Carolina, instead of pushing a boy of his age in 
 his studies, we would have him riding horses, 
 leaping fences and shooting squirrels. We 
 would build up his body before we set his brain 
 at work. As soon as he became robust and 
 hardy, his head could take care of itself. A 
 people who train their children and youth, gen- 
 eration after generation, as that boy has been 
 trained, may become brilHant in intellectual 
 development and profound in the learning of 
 the schools, but they will lose their grip on mat- 
 ters of pubhc and practical importance and have 
 to take an inferior position as to great questions 
 and great affairs." 
 
 « fe' 
 
170 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 The South CaroHiia method of educating 
 boys, as it was set forth by Calhoun, reminds 
 one of the old Persian custom of teaching their 
 youth '' to ride on hoi'seback, shoot arrows^ and 
 speak the truth." 
 
 In the light of subsequent events, I have 
 sometimes wondered, if Calhoun had lived fif- 
 teen years longer, if he would still have believed 
 that the North was running to seed through 
 excessive intellectual culture, while the South, 
 owing to what he considered its better methods 
 of education, was getting a firmer and more 
 tenacious grip on public and important practical 
 matters, and so gravitating to a sujyerior 
 ^^ position as to great questions and great 
 affairs." 
 
 A little while before the interview termin- 
 ated, I asked Mr. Calhoun what kind of a man 
 General Jackson was. The effect of the 
 question upon him made a profound impression 
 upon me. Had I not been so young and inex- 
 perienced. I would not — I could not have asked 
 
JOHN Ci CALHOUN. I7I 
 
 him such a question. It did not occur to me 
 that he and Jackson had been inexpressibly 
 bitter and relentless foes for many years. As 
 soon as the question was put, Calboun sank 
 into profound quiescence, seemed to be uncon- 
 scious of my presence, and was apparently 
 absorbed in introspective memories. Then his 
 relations to Jackson flashed vividly into my 
 'mind ; I was appalled at my blunder, and 
 awaited the result with trepidation. Calhoun's 
 revery continued but a short time. Soon he 
 looked at me boDignantly, and said : 
 " General Jackson was a great man." 
 The surpassingly beautiful expression of Cal- 
 houn's luminous eyes and the sweet, gentle tone 
 of his voice, as he thus answered my question, 
 are now present with me, as I write, although 
 that answer was given more than forty years 
 ago. It seemed as though, in his brief, absorb- 
 ing revery, he had reviewed and passed judg- 
 ment upon his relations with General Jackson. 
 The general was in his grave, and he v/as him- 
 
172 GREAT SENATORS 
 
 self beginning to be enveloped with the shadow 
 of death. Why should he, a dying man, con- 
 tinue to hate him who was already dead ? He 
 would not continue to hate him. It seemed as 
 though this, or something equivalent to it, 
 passed through Calhoun's mind, and touched 
 the inmost nobility of his nature, and caused 
 hnn to give the answer which came from him 
 like a renunciation of all his animositv and an 
 assertion of spiritual reconciliation with his dead 
 foe. 
 
 V. Calhoun's Quarrel with General Jack- 
 son, AND ITS RESULT. 
 
 As I became better acquainted with Calhoun, 
 I liked him better. At last, I had a genuine 
 affection for him, and mourned over what 
 seemed to me to have been his poh'tical deca- 
 dence ; and I have mourned over it to this hour. 
 No young man on this continent ever started on 
 a public career with brighter, nobler promise 
 than did that gifted, pure-souled young South 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUN. ^-3 
 
 Carolinian. He was bom in 1782— the same 
 year in which Benton, Webster, Martin Yim 
 Buren and General Cass were born—Clay being 
 five years his senior. He entered Congress in 
 1811 and immediately rose to distinction. He 
 had a convincing and attractive way of express- 
 ing his ideas with both tongue and pen. 
 
 The paragra])h I have given from his report 
 on Foreign Eelations shows what a captivating 
 style he had. Whatever he did or said was 
 popular. During the war of 1812, and down to 
 the period of his Yice-Presidency in Jackson's 
 first term (1829), Calhoun's course was patriotic, 
 brilliant and beneficent. He was as popular in 
 the North as in the South. He was an especial 
 favorite in New England ; a fact which seems 
 strange to us now. He was elected Vice-Presi- 
 dent in 182^, when no other candidate was 
 elected by the people ; the contest for the Presi- 
 dency being thrown into the House of Kepre- 
 sentatives, and resulting in the election of John 
 Quincy Adams. After Calhoun's re-election as 
 
174 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 Vice President, on the Jackson ticket, in 1828, 
 he was in the direct hne of the Democratic suc- 
 cession to the Presidency. But there came a 
 fatal quarrel between him and Old Hickory 
 Jackson, and all chance of his further national 
 preferment was immediately and forever blight- 
 ed. The cause of this quarrel was the disclosure 
 of the fact that in 1819 Calhoun, while Secretary 
 of War in Monroe's first Administration, had 
 filed an opinion condemning Jackson's course in 
 Florida. 
 
 It will be remembered that at that time 
 Florida was owned by Spain ; that the Span- 
 iards incited the Indians to murder the Ameri- 
 can settlers in Alabama and Georgia, and that 
 there were British emissaries helping the Span- 
 iards in this nefarious work ; that Jackson, 
 then a major-general in the United States army 
 and commander of the Southern division of it, 
 was sent to the scene of the outrages to pacifi- 
 cate affairs and protect his countrymen, and 
 with the understanding that, although the 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUN. I75 
 
 Government did not wish to appear before the 
 world as countenancing extreme measures, it 
 would wink at any means of pacification to 
 w^hich the commanding general should find it 
 necessary to resort ; that General Jackson, on 
 arriving at the theatre of operations and finding 
 an outrageous state of affairs, began the work 
 of ''pacification" with his accustomed energy, 
 hung two British emissaries — Arbuthnot and 
 Ambrister— stormed some of the Spanish fortifi- 
 cations, and soon brought a state of Jacksonian 
 peace and safety to pass. Jackson's proceedings 
 of course excited the wrath of the British and 
 the Spaniards, and threatened to involve the 
 United States in war with both Spain and Great 
 Britain. His conduct was severely censured in 
 Congress, and it was made to appear that he 
 had acted without any warrant whatever from 
 the Government for his violent course. This 
 injustice aroused the old warrior to ungovern- 
 able fury, and he threatened to go to Washing- 
 ton and cut off the ears of Congressmen who 
 
176 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 maligned him. The Administration was called 
 upon to discipline the belligerent general, and 
 President Monroe asked for written opinions on 
 the case from the members of his Cabinet. 
 The opiuions were handed in, and all of them, 
 except Calhoun's, were in Jackson's favor. 
 
 Those Cabinet opinions were under the seal 
 of official secrecy, and nobody outside of the 
 Administration knew what they were. But 
 Jackson in some way got the idea firmly fixed 
 in his mind that Calhoun was the member of 
 the Cabinet who took the lead in defending him 
 on that critical occasion. That made Jackson 
 Calhoun's devoted friend, and caused him to do 
 everything he could to secure his advancement. 
 It may be imagined, therefore, what a shock 
 the disclosure of the truth was to Old Hickory, 
 and with what rage it filled him. He imme- 
 diately cast off Calhoun as a traitor and hypo- 
 crite, and swore everlasting vengeance against 
 him. 
 
 How this disclosure, which was so disastrous 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUN. J77 
 
 to Calhoun, happened to be made, nobody 
 seems to know with absokite certainty. Differ- 
 ent explanations of it, some of them very 
 elaborate, have been published. When I first 
 went to Washington, in 1848, the matter was 
 still a topic for gossip and discussion, and there 
 were hundreds of people who had gone through 
 the excitement and turmoil it occasioned, and 
 supposed they knew all about it. The general 
 run of gossip on the subject was that if the 
 Peggy O'Neil scandal and controversy had not 
 occurred, the Calhoun disclosure would not 
 have been made. Peggy O'Neil was the hand- 
 some daughter of a Washington tavern-keeper, 
 who married Purser Timberlake of the United 
 States navy. Timberlake, died, and his widow 
 was wooed and won by General John H. Eaton, 
 of Tennessee, who was Jackson's intimate 
 friend, and was appointed Secretary of War in 
 Jackson's first Cabinet. And thus Peggy O'Neil 
 blossomed out into " a Cabinet lady," and was 
 eligible to the highest society in Washington. 
 
178 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 Unfortunately, there had been derogatory 
 rumors about her while she was Mrs. Timber- 
 lake. Her husband was absent at sea for many 
 months, and she, being attractive and full of 
 ^Hhe spirit of society,'' received a good deal of 
 attention from officers of the army and navy. 
 She was talked about in an unpleasant way, and 
 had to pay the penalty which is exacted from 
 every handsome woman who accepts too much 
 homage from other women's husbands while 
 her own husband is absent. 
 
 Gossip became still more rife and acrimoni- 
 ous when General Eaton married the widow 
 Timberlake ; and when, by his becoming Secre- 
 tary of War, she became ^' a Cabinet lady," the 
 wives of other members of the Cabinet felt that 
 a blow had been struck at the honor and prestige 
 of their sacred society circle. They met the 
 impending calamity with Spartan resolution. 
 They announced that they would have no social 
 relations 'whatever with Mrs. Eaton i?e'e 'Neil. 
 They would not receive calls from her ; they 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUN. 17<) 
 
 would not make calls on her ; they would not 
 grace with their presence any social entertain- 
 ment which she was permitted to attend. As 
 they were upheld by their lady friends, Mrs. 
 Eaton was in effect excluded from society. 
 The action of the Cabinet ladies was a social 
 thunder- clap. It occasioned a prodigious sensa- 
 tion. General Jackson was frantic with indig- 
 nation and rage at the insult to the wife of his 
 bosom friend, General Eaton, and swore, by 
 the Eternal, that she should be received by the 
 other Cabinet ladies. The contention convulsed 
 society. As the contest went on, it became 
 apparent that for once Old Hickory had found 
 his match. He had conquered the British antl 
 the Spaniards and numberless Indian tribes, 
 but he could not conquer one httle tribe of 
 white women. He was worsted in the fight, 
 and other annoying complications being drawn 
 into the social and political swirl, the Cabinet 
 was re-organized, General Eaton going out of 
 
180 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 office, and Mrs. Eaton going out of public 
 notice. 
 
 It happened that the husbands of the ladies 
 who organized this social war were all particular 
 friends to Calhoun. They were in fact known 
 as '^ The Calhoun members of the Cabinet." 
 General Jackson, animated by his gratitude for 
 Calhoun's supposed loyalty to him when his 
 enemies were seeking to destroy him in 1819, 
 had generously given three of the Vice-Presi- 
 dent's partisans places in the Cabinet ; and it 
 was the wives of those three Cabinet officers 
 who instigated the crusade against the wife of 
 the President's friend. And it was said that it 
 was to punish Calhoun, and his set, that his 
 opinion, hostile to Jackson, was unearthed and 
 brought to light. I had several conversations 
 on the subject with a son of one of the Calboun 
 Cabinet officers. He had heard his father and 
 motber and their friends discuss the matter a 
 myriad times. They cherished an absolute con- 
 viction that the divulgation of Calhoun's opinion 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUN. |,Sl 
 
 was purposely made by the friends of General 
 Eaton to avenge Mrs. Eaton's wrongs. Bnt this 
 belief was not universal. Many saw a i)olitical 
 manoeuvre in the disclosure, and charged it 
 upon Calhoun's political rivals. Van Bnren's 
 enemies saw his cunning hand in it ; Calhoun 
 believed that Van Buren was the author of the 
 disclosure ; and color was lent to his belief by 
 the fact that Van Buren was the chief gainer by 
 the rupture between the President and Vice- 
 President. He displaced Calhoun in the line of 
 political succession, and fell heir to the presi- 
 dency, which, previous to the rupture, was com- 
 ing straight to Calhoun. This led to a hfelong 
 estrangement between those two distinguished 
 Democrats ; and their estrangement led to the 
 rejection of Van Buren as a Presidential candi- 
 date by the Democratic Convention in 1S44, and 
 to his acceptance of the Free-soil nomination, 
 and the consequent defeat of General Cass, in 
 1848, as narrated in our first chapter. William 
 H. Crawford, of Georgia,, was also charged witli 
 
182 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 the disclosure of Calhoun's opinion, and so were 
 others ; but the popular belief ascribed it to the 
 retaliatory vengeance of Mrs. Eaton's friends. 
 
 It is possible that the convulsions of the Mrs. 
 Eaton war indirectly helped to erupt the Cal- 
 houn opinion from the secret archives of the 
 Cabinet, but thus far no absolute proof of the 
 precise way in which it was divulged has been 
 made public. But divulged it was, and the 
 effect upon Calhoun's political career was 
 calamitous. He was estranged from the domi- 
 nant jiiembers of the Democratic party, and as 
 he had no affinities for the Whigs, his only 
 resource was to develop a party of his own ; 
 and that he at once set about doing. How he 
 did it. and what terrible results came of it, are 
 matters of general history. 
 
 In order to carry out his determination Cal- 
 houn had to bring about a fundamental change 
 in the opinion of the South as to slavery. Up 
 to that time it was generally conceded that 
 slavery was a moral and political evil, a vast, 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUN. 2^3 
 
 ineradicable national cancer which the country 
 must bear and suffer under as best it might. 
 Calhoun set at work to " correct this erroneous 
 notion," and, so far as the South was concerned, 
 he accomplished his purpose. In a powerful 
 speech which he made in the Senate in 1837, on 
 resolutions with regard to slavery introduced by 
 himself, he said : 
 
 " This agitation has produced one happy 
 eifect, at least — it has compelled us of the South 
 to look into the nature and character of this 
 great institution, [slavery,] and to correct many 
 false impressions that even we had entertained 
 in relation to it. Many in the South once 
 believed that it was a moral and political evil. 
 That follij and delusion are gone. We see it 
 now in its true light, and regard it as the most 
 safe and stable basis for free institutions in the 
 world. It is impossible with us that the conflict 
 can take place between labor and capital, which 
 makes it so difficult to establish and maintain 
 free institutions in all wealthy and highly civil- 
 
184: GREAT SEISATORS. 
 
 ized nations, where such institutions as ours do 
 not exist. The Southern States are an aggre- 
 gate, in fact, of communities, not of individuals. 
 Every plantation is a little community, with the 
 master at its head, who concentrates in himself 
 the united interest of capital and labor, of which 
 he is the common representative. The small 
 communities aggregated make the State in all, 
 whose action, labor, and capital is equally repre- 
 sented and perfectly harmonised." 
 
 In the course of this speech, Calhoun said 
 that "a mysterious Providence had brought 
 together two races, from different portions of 
 the globe, and placed them together in nearly 
 equal numbers in the Southern portion of this 
 Union ; " to which Clay replied that ' ' to call a 
 generation of slave-trading pirates (who 
 brought the negroes to this country) ' a mysteri- 
 ous Providence,' was an insult to the Supreme 
 Being." Clay's reply was admired, but it did 
 not lessen the influence of Calhoun's speech in 
 the South. 
 
JOHK C. CALHOUN. jg5 
 
 VI. Calhoun's Fascination in Personal In- 
 tercourse. 
 
 After that New Year s day, 1849, I occasion- 
 ally met Mr. Calhoun, and every time I had an 
 opportunity to hear him converse and to study 
 his character, my appreciation of him Avas 
 strengthened. He was hy all odds the most 
 fascinating man in private intercourse that I 
 ever met. His conversational powers were 
 marvelous. His voice was clear, sweet and 
 mellow, with a musical, metallic ring in it which 
 gave it strength without diminishing its sweet- 
 ness. His pronunciation and enunciation were 
 perfect. His manner was simple and unpre- 
 tentious. He talked on the most abstruse 
 subjects with the guileless simplicity of a 
 prattling child. His ideas were so clear and his 
 language so plain that he made a path of light 
 through any subject he discussed. 
 
 Harriet Martineau said, a dozen or fifteen 
 years before the period (181:9) of which I am 
 
186 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 writing, that '' Calhoun's mind had lost the 
 power of communicating with other minds." I 
 can understand how a stranger might get that 
 impression of Calhoun. There were at least 
 two Calhouns, perhaps there were several. 
 That is to say, his ideas and sentiments on 
 different subjects were so differentiated, so 
 sharply defined, and so rigidly separated from 
 one another, that the man himself seemed to be 
 a different personage at different times, accord- 
 ing to the question or subject before him. His 
 faculties were not compacted into a mental or 
 psychological nation ; they were simply a con- 
 federacy, and every one of them was a sovereign 
 faculty, which could think and act for itself, 
 independently of all the rest. His convictions 
 on the subject of slavery were as fixed and 
 unchangeable as an elementary principle of 
 nature ; and, as to them, his mind was incapable 
 of exchanging ideas with other minds. That 
 portion of his mind was a hermit, and it led a 
 hermit's existence ; and if Miss Martineau 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUK. l^Y 
 
 attempted to intrude into that hermit's cell, she 
 found it impossible to communicate with its 
 occupant. 
 
 Calhoun's kindness of heart was inexhaust- 
 ible. He impressed me as being deeply but 
 unobtrusively religious, and was so morally 
 clean and spiritually pure that it was a pleasure 
 to have one's soul get close to his soul — a feeling 
 that I never had for any other man. He 
 seemed to exhale an atmosphere of purity, 
 as fresh and sweet and bracing as a breeze from 
 the prairie, the ocean, or the mountain — an 
 atmosphere which one could safely breathe all 
 in and be better and purer from the inspiration. 
 He was inexpressibly urbane, refined, gentle, 
 winning ; and yet he was strong and thorough- 
 ly manly, with an elegant and engaging invin- 
 cibleness pervading his softness and gentleness. 
 I admired Benton ; I admired Clay still more ; 
 I admired Webster, on the intellectual side, 
 most of all ; but I loved Calhoun ; and as I 
 came to know him well, and saw his exquisitely 
 
188 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 beautiful nature mirrored in his face, his 
 countenance no longer seemed Satanic, but 
 angelic, and his benignant greeting in the 
 morning was like a benediction that lasted the 
 whole day. 
 
 It is believed that Calhoun's political life 
 was so embittered that he got no comfort out of 
 it, and that it grew less and less satisfactory as 
 he drew near its end ; but in private and social 
 relations he was blessed with strongest and 
 most disinterested friendships, and his last days 
 were enriched and sweetened by 
 
 " That best portioD of a good man's life, 
 His little, nameless, unremembered acts 
 Of kindness and of love." 
 
 My acquaintance, at the age when my 
 character was in process of development and 
 formation, with John C. Calhoun and Jefferson 
 Davis was of incomputable benefit to me. The 
 fact that of all the distinguished men I saw 
 
JOHN C. CALHOUN. 181) 
 
 in Washington, the two whose pohtical course 
 was the most obnoxious to me were the very- 
 two whom I most hked personally, had then 
 and afterwards a powerful effect upon my 
 mind, my heart and my life. And this effect 
 was deepened by the fact that some of those 
 with whose political principles I most keenly 
 sympathized were the ones whose personal 
 characters were the most distasteful to me. 
 The struggles of mind and the travail of spirit 
 which the conflicting thoughts and emotions 
 consequent upon such a state of things occa- 
 sioned in me, caused me to be born again as to 
 my notions of public men and pubhc affairs. I 
 learned to distinguish between a man's pohtical 
 principles and his i^ersonal character, and there 
 was developed in me a disposition to extend to 
 the convictions and conduct of others the same 
 forbearance and charity which every man likes 
 to have accorded to his own conduct and con- 
 victions. 
 
190 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Thomas H. Benton. 
 
 I. Bektojt's hatred of Calhoux. — The Great 
 South Carolinian and the Great 
 
 MiSSOURIAN contrasted. 
 
 Notwithstanding Calhoun's lovable charac- 
 ter, he had at least one bitter and relentless foe 
 — Thomas H. Benton, of Missouri. Benton 
 was called the Great Missouiian ; Calhoun, the 
 Great South Carolinian ; and their natures 
 differed more and were more widely sundered 
 than their respective States. Indeed, it would 
 be difficult to find two other co-temporaiy 
 Americans, of equal distinction, so absolutely 
 contrasted in body, mind, principles, tastes and 
 manners as were Benton and Calhoun. Cal- 
 
THOMAS H. BENTON. 19)^ 
 
 houii was slender and delicate of frame; Benton 
 was massive and mnscular. Calhoun was 
 speculative, theoretical and philosophical ; Ben- 
 ton was matter of -fact, statistical and practical. 
 Calhoun was sympathetic, sensitive and con- 
 siderate ; Benton was cold, hard and ruthless. 
 To rub Calhoun's nature against Benton's was 
 like rubbing the tender skin of an infant against 
 the corrugated hide of a rhinocerous. And 
 then Calhoun sought to destroy the Union, 
 while Benton was a fierce upholder of the 
 Union. Pi'evious to his discovery of Calhoun's 
 ultimate motives in forcing the doctrines of 
 State Kights and the right of secession upon the 
 attention of the Sputh, Benton was his friend 
 and coadjutor, but as soon as he made that 
 discovery he began to dislike him, and when he 
 became convinced that Calhoini would be glad 
 to have the Union destroyed, he made open 
 war upon him ; and from that time the Great 
 Missourian hated the Great South Carolinian 
 with rancorous and unappeasable hatred. 
 
192 GREAT SENATOES. 
 
 II. How TO ESTIMATE CHARACTER. 
 
 In estimating a man's character, and in 
 passing judgment upon his conduct, we should 
 keep in mind what the psychologists and bio- 
 logists call liis heredity and his environment. 
 According to the doctrine on this subject, a 
 man's heredity, or inborn nature, comes to him 
 through his parents, from his entire line of 
 ancestry, and is set in him beyond the power of 
 elementary change. The elements of character 
 that are born in him may be developed or 
 withered, but they can not be changed any 
 more than the functions of his senses can be 
 changed. The sense of seeing cannot be 
 changed into the sense of hearing, nor can the 
 passion for destroying be changed into the sen- 
 timent of benevolence. Either of these elemen- 
 tary traits may be sti'engthened by cultivation 
 or weakened by neglect, but it cannot be 
 changed into anything else. The sum of one's 
 character will depend on the relative develop- 
 
THOMAS II. BENTON. 1 93 
 
 ment, neglect or suppression of its inboni 
 elements ; and his environment— which is thr 
 sum of all the influences which act u])on liis 
 heredity— is the medium through which and by 
 which the development, neglect, or suppression 
 of the inborn elements is brought to pass. 
 
 A tragic incident which occurred thirty-five 
 years ago in a remote section of what is now 
 West Virginia, may help persons who are not 
 familiar with the theory of heredity and envi- 
 ronment, to get some notion of it. A family 
 named Russell undertook to domesticate a 
 young bear and to change its carnivorous 
 heredity into a herbivorous proclivity. Mr. 
 Russell was an advocate of vegetarianism. He 
 believed that most of the evils of human nature 
 come of eating too much meat. He imagined 
 that the ferocity of the carnivori was owing to 
 their habitual flesh diet, and that it might be 
 extinguished by a prolonged course of vegeta- 
 rian discipline. Having caught an unweaned 
 bear cub, he determined to demonstrate the 
 
194 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 correctness of his theory. So the creature was 
 fed on milk, sweet corn, pumpkins, berries, and 
 fruits of all kinds. It was not permitted to 
 have any meat. It grew rapidly, and was so 
 playful and amiable it seemed as though Mr. 
 EusselFs theory was going to be demonstrated 
 beyond all cavil. It was the custom, when 
 evening approached, to chain the bear to a post 
 on the lawn, lest it should wander off in the 
 night. One evening, Mr. Eussell's eldest boy, 
 a fine lad of fifteen years, who had been hunt- 
 ing, came home with a string of birds and 
 squirrels that he had shot. In passing the 
 bear's post, the boy stopped to have a little play. 
 The bear, smelling the blood of the. birds and 
 squirrels, attempted to seize them with his 
 teeth ; whereupon the boy struck him over the 
 nose with the string of game. This awakened 
 the animal's sleeping heredity ; and springing 
 upon the boy he began to devour him before the 
 eyes of his mother, who stood on the piazza 
 and shrieked for help. Mr. Eussell and several 
 
THOMAS H. BENTON. 195 
 
 field hands hearing her cries, rushed to the si)()t, 
 but they were too late to save the boy. The 
 bear was immediately killed ; and thus ended 
 the .attem[)t to change the heredity of a carniv- 
 orous beast to the traits of a herbivorous animal, 
 by means of a vegetarian environment. 
 
 This doctrine of heredity and environment, 
 when rightly understood, explains many social 
 phenomena which, without its a^.d, are incom- 
 prehensible. For example, a man who for 
 years has been trusted by a whole connnunity 
 —who has been the faithful executor of many 
 wills and the faithful guardian of many 
 orplians— suddenly runs away with the funds 
 entrusted to his care, and everybody is aghast 
 at the unaccountable occurrence. How could 
 such a thing have happened ? is the universal 
 exclamation. It could happen just as that 
 vegetarian bear could so unexpectedly devour 
 that boy. The carnivorous appetite was heredi- 
 tary in the bear and manifested itself the 
 moment it received sufficient provocation. So, 
 
196 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 too, the thieving, robbing, defrauding prodivity 
 was hereditary in that good man, but was kept 
 in abeyance by his environment until an over- 
 mastering opportunity provoked it into action, 
 and the phenomenally trustworthy man ran 
 away with the trust money. Any unexpected 
 outburst of vice or break down of character on 
 the one hand, or any exhibition of noble traits 
 which a person was not suspected of possessing 
 on the other hand, can be readily explained by 
 the application of this theory. In fact, it 
 covers the entire range of the development of 
 human character ; and now let us see how it 
 works in explaining the personal characteristics 
 of Colonel Benton. 
 
 III. Benton's Character. 
 
 Benton's heredity, both as to j^hysique and 
 mentality, was peculiar and striking. He was 
 born with characteristics resembling those of 
 the bear, the bull and the eagle. He was 
 ferocious, brave, keen- sighted and high-soaring. 
 
THOMAS H. BENTON. 19^ 
 
 In mind, dignity and patriotism he was a 
 Roman Senator of the highest type ; and in 
 physique, temper and ferocity he was a Eoman 
 gladiator, who somehow had become imbedded 
 in the nineteenth century. He had large bones, 
 which were covered with thick and hard mus- 
 cles. He was about five feet and ten inches in 
 height, had broad shoulders, a deep chest, large 
 hips and strong limbs. His head, which was of 
 great size, was largest at the base. All the 
 animal propensities, especially those which give 
 cunning and courage, were powerfully devel- 
 oped. His courage was so predominant and 
 combative, that he seldom cared to resort to 
 cunning to compass his ends ; but when he did 
 undertake to play Indian, no savage that ever 
 infested the wilderness could cope with him. 
 
 His organs of observation were large and 
 active, and his firmness and self-esteem were so 
 prominently developed that his massive head 
 ran up to a peak like the Island of Teneriffe. 
 His countenance w^as romanesque, with the 
 
198 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 blended expression of the eagle and the lion. It 
 is doubtful if we ever had a man in public life, 
 in America, equal to Colonel Benton in physical 
 strength, endurance and courage, in toughness 
 and elasticity of constitution, and in mental and 
 moral fortitude. There have been men who 
 equalled, and perhaps excelled him in some of 
 these qualities, but nobody else has exhibited m 
 such an admirable combination of them all. 
 
 Benton's early training, and in fact the 
 environment of all the first half of his life, was 
 such as would bring all his natural traits to 
 their fullest development. He was born in 
 1Y82, in an obscure hamlet in North Carolina. 
 When he was eight years old his father died, 
 and his widowed mother removed to Tennessee. 
 He had little opportunity to go to school, but he 
 studied hard at home in the evening, after the 
 day's duties had been done. Fortunately, his 
 mother was a refined, pious, God-fearing woman, 
 who brought up her fatherless children in the 
 nurture and admonition of tlie Lord. Benton's 
 
THOMAS H. BENTON. ^99 
 
 religion, though it modified his heredity, could 
 not change it. He was a robust and ferocious 
 Christian — just the kind for his day and gener- 
 ation. As he grew to manhood, he was more or 
 less engaged in fighting Indians and wild beasts 
 and half -wild neighbors. After a time he stud- 
 ied law and entered the slightly more civilized 
 arena of the bar, where foes did not tomahawk 
 and scalp, but only knifed and pistolled one 
 another. In that wild life, the great law of the 
 survival of the fittest was inexorably supreme ; 
 and the fittest, of course, meant the fittest foi" 
 til at kind of life. Benton was one of the fittest. 
 He survived and thrived ; he even survived a 
 desperate personal encounter with Old Hickory 
 Jackson in the streets of Nashville ; and so far 
 as I know he was the only man that ever did 
 survive a personal fight with Old Hickory. 
 
 In 1815 Benton went to Missouri, then a 
 Territory, inhabited by a fierce population, 
 where his fights continued, with the usual 
 result. What that result was may be inferred 
 
200 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 from a declaration he made in the Senate, after 
 a Senator had referred to what he called "a quar- 
 rel" of Benton's. ''Mr. President, sir," said 
 the Great Missourian sternly, ''the Senator is 
 mistaken, sir. I never quarrel, sir ; but I some- 
 times fight, sir ; and whenever I fight, sir, a 
 funeral follows, sir !" 
 
 Missouri was admitted to the Union in 1820, 
 and Benton was at once elected United States 
 Senator from that State, and took his seat in 
 March, 1821. He was re-elected four times in 
 succession, and so served as Senator thirty years 
 continuously, his last term expiring March 3rd, 
 1851. When he entered the United States Sen- 
 ate, he was within a few days of his fortieth 
 year and his character had been formed and 
 fixed. What that character w^as, the reader 
 can imagine, if he w^ill recall to mind what 
 Benton's heredity was, and how it had 
 been acted upon and developed by his whole 
 hard, struggling, wild, contentious life. And 
 in passing judgment upon a man's life, we must 
 
THOMAS H. BENTON. 901 
 
 remember that he is to be judged according to 
 his character and not according to our charactei", 
 according to the time in which he hved and not 
 according to the time in which we hve, and 
 according to the circumstances which environed 
 him and not according to those which surround 
 us. 
 
 Benton, as I have said, was a Eoman gladi- 
 ator in body and temper. It was his custom to 
 bathe and scrub down his body to his hips every 
 morning, and from his hips to his feet every 
 afternoon. The implement he used was the 
 roughest kind of a horsehair brush ; and witli 
 this his body servant would curry him down 
 with all his migbt. A friend, who saw the 
 brush, shook his head over it, whereupon Ben- 
 ton grimly said : " Why, sir, if I were to iouch 
 you with that brush, sir, you would cry nuu'der, 
 sir." On being asked why he thus scrubbed 
 half of his body in the morning and the otlier 
 half in the afternoon, he replied : "The Roman 
 gladiators did it, sir." Under this treatment, 
 
202 GREAT SENATOKS. 
 
 his skin had become a sheath of leather, devoid 
 of sensibihty, and shutting him out from sym- 
 pathy ^'ith the sensibihties of others. Meta- 
 phorically, as well as physically, he was prob- 
 ably the thickest skinned man of his time. 
 This enabled him to go scathless through 
 contests from which others would come out 
 with sorely wounded spirits and bleeding hearts. 
 
 IV. Benton's Characteristics as a Debater. 
 
 Seemingly, Benton was indifferent alike to 
 praise or blame. But he was capable of intense 
 wrath when he thought that any project of his 
 own, or any public matter in which he took an 
 interest, was unfairly treated. And when he 
 was thoroughly roused to anger, he was most 
 dangerous ; for he never lost his self possession, 
 and always used his anger as a wrath-power 
 wherewith to propel his mental machinery. He 
 spoke with deliberation, and was noted for his 
 short, emphatic, incisive sentences. He had a 
 biting wit, and a grim humor, which were 
 
THOMAS H. BENTON. '^o" 
 
 pleasant to everybody except the victims of 
 them. When he wanted to torture an opponiiiit, 
 he had a way of elevating his voice into a rasp- 
 ing squeal of sarcasm which was intolerably 
 exasperating and sometimes utterly maddening. 
 The word sir was a formidable missile on his 
 tongue, and he brought it into play with a 
 frequency which nothing but his powerful utter- 
 ance and commanding manner prevented f joni 
 becoming absurd. He had a way of repeating 
 a sentence over and over and over, with slight 
 variations, which was exceedingly effective. 
 
 In the debate on the petition from the people 
 of New Mexico to be protected from the intro- 
 duction of slavery into that Teriitory, which I 
 heretofore said (see page 149) brought Callioun 
 to his feet, and the preparation of whicli was 
 instigated by Benton, Senator Westcott, of 
 Florida, in commenting adversely on the peti- 
 tion, read portions of it to illustrate his argu- 
 ment. In thus reading from the petition he 
 inadvertently read the phrase, ''the people of 
 
204 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 New Mexico " twice, and omitted the following 
 phrase, by which an erroneous idea of the 
 nature of the petition was given. Benton at 
 once arose, and majestically reaching forth his 
 hand to Westcott, who stood near him, he 
 imperiously said : . 
 
 *' Will you hand me that petition, sir?" 
 Senator Westcott, taken by surprise, spon- 
 taneously handed over the petition. Benton 
 took it, and turning towards Vice President 
 Dallas, who was presiding over the Senate, said : 
 '' Mr. President, sir, I wish to read the words 
 that the Senator from Florida left out. He read 
 it twice, sir, as a petition from the people of 
 New Mexico. He read' it twice, sir, as relating 
 to the people of New Mexico, and he read, sir, 
 Hhe people of New Mexico 'twice — [laughtei-] — 
 twice, sir, and by reading it twice he thought 
 himself entitled to leave out the few followiug 
 words." Benton hurled "the people of New 
 Mexico, twice, sir," like a missile at the oppo- 
 nents of the petition. On every repetition of the 
 
THOMAS II. BENTON. 2(1;") 
 
 word " twice " his voice struck a higher key and 
 rang out with increased power ; his mighty arm 
 swept through the air with majestic gesticula- 
 tion, his eyes blazed, his massive form dilated 
 and towered with indignation, and he lookcHl 
 as though he was ready to sink the Senator in 
 the gladiator at the slightest physical provo- 
 cation. 
 
 Benton's peculiar mental formation made 
 him mighty on the plane of physical affairs. 
 He knew the material resources of the country, 
 and everything thereunto appertaining, by 
 heart. He behoved in solid, material things, 
 and hated whatever was flimsy or flabby. 
 Speculative projects found no favor with him ; 
 to Avin his support, a scheme had to be sound 
 from end to end and all over substantial. 
 
 Benton was not an eloquent speaker, but he 
 was always interesting. His speeches were 
 packed with facts and fiUed with information. 
 His grim wit and mocking sarcasm gave a pun- 
 gent relish to his style which was exceedingly 
 
206 GREAT SEXATORS. 
 
 agreeable. The indomitable old Indian lighter 
 was usually apparent in his niauner : and meta- 
 phorically speaking it was easy to detect the 
 whir of the tomahawk and the gleam of the 
 scalping knife in his acrid sentences. He did 
 not confine himself strictly to the question in 
 debate, but struck out into any by -path of ani- 
 madversion in which he scented game, looking- 
 for scalps in sequestered issues and dealing 
 blows at every head lie could find. Sometimes he 
 would ramble on in a discursive way for hours, 
 and make a speech that would fill six, eight, or 
 ten columns of the InteUigencer : and then, 
 after the speech had been written out, he would 
 expunge all the extraneous matter it contained, 
 so it Would make only two or three columns in 
 print. The reporters, being paid by the column, 
 did not like his curtailments. I remember, on 
 one occasion, that my report of a portion of one 
 of his speeches made four colunms, and he cut 
 it down to a column and a half. It was difficult 
 for an impecunious young reporter to feel friend- 
 
THOMAS H. BENTON. 207 
 
 ;• ly towards a great man who was accustomed to 
 • behave in such a ruthless manner as that. 
 
 V. His Egotism 
 
 The most marked trait of Benton's character 
 was his egotism, which was so conspicuous that 
 it could not escape the notice of the most indif- 
 ferent observer. Egotism is usually offensive 
 and almost invariably excites disgust. But Ben- 
 ton's egotism was so vast, so towering, so part and 
 parcel of the man, that it was not at all offen- 
 sive, and never excited disgust. On the contrary, 
 it excited admiration and gave the beholder of 
 it pleasure. One could not help feeling that the 
 old ironclad's egotism was a sort of national 
 institution in which every patriotic American 
 could take a just pride ; that his egotism was as 
 proper to him as its apex is to a pyramid ; that, 
 in fact, it had come to pass through a natural 
 and fitting process of evolution, and was simply 
 the harmonious apex of his pyramidal character. 
 Benton's egotism pervaded him utterly, and was 
 
/ 
 
 208 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 apparent in everything which he said or did. It 
 made Benton the centre of the universe to Ben- 
 ton — the central force which moved all things, 
 the central orb around which all other orbs 
 revolved. In his opinion, whatever public 
 matter he had to do with at all, took its shape 
 entirely from his touch, and its success was 
 owing to him exclusively. It is well known 
 that General Jackson, while he was President, 
 destroyed the United States Bank ; and it is 
 universally believed that no man but General 
 Jackson had the nerve to begin an attack upon 
 that ^'Financial Monster," as the bank was 
 called. Benton, with others, took sides with 
 Jackson against the bank. Years afterwards, 
 when Jackson was dead, a gentleman who was 
 walking with Benton in Washington remarked, 
 as they passed the equesti'ian statue of the gen- 
 eral, that Jackson was a very wonderful man, 
 to which Benton responded : 
 
 "Yes, sir; General Jackson was a great 
 man, sii' — a very great man, sir. He was of 
 
THO^IAS H. BENTON. 209 
 
 great use to me, sir, in my war upon the United 
 States Bank, sir." 
 
 When Benton's great work, " Thirty Years 
 in the United States Senate," was about to 
 come from tl"ie press, its pubhshers, (the Apple- 
 tons,) sent a messenger to him to get his views 
 as to the number of copies that should be 
 pi'inted. The messenger having presented the 
 case, the old man loftily said : 
 
 *'Sir, they can ascertain from the last 
 census how many persons there are in the 
 United States who can read, sir ;" and that 
 was the only suggestion he would condescend 
 to make. That he believed his book would be 
 iviid by everybody who could read at all, I have 
 no doubt. He supposed that whatever he said 
 or wi-ote was eagerly sought for by all sorts of 
 people. An amusing proof of this is given in 
 the very book in question. In an autobi- 
 ographical sketch which serves .as an intro- 
 duction to the work, Benton, in speaking of his 
 public career, says : 
 
210 GREAT SEKATORS. 
 
 ''From that time [the date of Benton's first 
 election to the Senate] his h'fe was in the public 
 eye, and the bare enumeration of the measures 
 of which he was the author and the prime 
 promoter, would be almost a history of Con- 
 gress Legislation. The enumeration is unneces- 
 sary here ; the long list is known throughout 
 the length and breadth of the land — repeated 
 with the familiarity of household words from 
 the great cities on the seaboard to the lonely 
 cabins on the frontier — and studied by the 
 little boys who feel an honorable ambition 
 beginning to stir within their bosoms, and a 
 laudable desire to learn something of the history 
 of their country." 
 
 Such immeasurable and self -blinding egotism 
 as that fairly takes one's breath away. The 
 idea of the little boys of the country devoting 
 their spare time to the reading of Thomas H. 
 Benton's Congressional speeches, reports and 
 bills, is a conception so transcendently egotisti- 
 cal that one's powers of description and 
 
THOMAS H. BENTON. ^H 
 
 characterization wilt before it. It is nut 
 probable that any little boy ^' from the cities 
 on the seaboard to the lonely cabins on the 
 frontier " ever read a dozen pages of anything 
 wliich came from Benton's tongue or pen ; nor 
 is it likely that one adult in ten thousand is 
 familiar with his works. 
 
 In the autumn of 1870 I was in St. Louis, 
 and embraced the opportunity to talk with 
 some of Benton's old neighbors. They were 
 ready enough to talk about him, and I heard a 
 few anecdotes that were so characteristic of 
 him, that I seemed to hear his voice and see 
 his imperious bearing in them. .Many years 
 before, when the Czar Nicholas was the most 
 conspicuous personage in Europe, some one 
 was telHng how strangers knelt in his presence. 
 On finishing the narrative the speaker said to 
 Benton : 
 
 ''I suppose. Colonel, that you would not 
 think of kneeling to the Czar ?" to which he 
 responded, with his most imperial emphasis : 
 
212 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 ' ' No, sir ! No, sir ! An American kneels 
 only to God and woman, sir." 
 
 In 1856 Benton was running for Governor 
 of Missouri, (he left the Senate in 1851,) against 
 an opponent named Trusten Polk. They can- 
 vassed the State, and on one occasion, when 
 Benton stepped forward to speak, he began by 
 saying, in a meditative style : 
 
 ''T-r-usten Polk! T-r-u-s-ten Polk! A 
 man that nobody trusts ; a knave in politics 
 and a hypocrite in religion !" 
 
 A few years before, (I think it was in 1852 
 or '51,) Benton was running for Congress in 
 Missouri. He and his rival met several times 
 in public debate before their constituents. On 
 one occasion his opponent indulged in some 
 severe remarks upon Benton's integrity, or 
 rather lack of integrity, and insinuated charges 
 of a defamatory character. Benton arose, 
 walked up to him, and after looking him fierce- , 
 
 ly in the eye for a moment, shook his fist in his 
 
 ■ 
 
 face, and shouted : 
 
THOMAS H. BENTON. 9 13 
 
 a -XT. 
 
 You lie, sir ! You lie, sir ! I cram tlie lie 
 down your throat, sir !" 
 
 This occasioned the intensest feelinu-. 
 Everybody expected that Benton would be 
 shot, or stabbed at once, or at least challenged 
 to mortal cumbat on the spot. But nothing of 
 the kind occurred. His rival, it seems, hadn't 
 any game blood in his veins. He turned pale, 
 and attempted to go on with his speech. But 
 tlie Missouri auditors turned their backs on him 
 in disgust. They w^ould not listen to a man 
 wiio w^ould submit to such an insult as that, 
 and Benton had it all his own way during the 
 remainder of the canvass. 
 
 A short time after Calhoun's death, a friend 
 said to Benton, ''I suppose, Colonel, you won't 
 pursue Calhoun beyond the grave?" to which he 
 
 replied : 
 
 '^No, sir. When God Almighty lays his 
 hand upon a man, sir, I take mine off, sir." 
 
214: GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 VI. The better side of Benton's character. 
 
 Thus far, Benton has not appeared in an 
 amiable Hght. But he had his good side, and 
 many attractive characteristics. He was hon- 
 est and high toned. He was indomitably patii- 
 otic. He stood by the old flag. He had grand 
 and chivalric ideas as to his public duty. As a 
 Senator of the United States, his country was 
 his only client, and he never took a fee for 
 prosecuting a claim against her, nor lent his 
 name or influence to help any one get into her 
 treasury. He was a staunch friend of the poor 
 — of poor blacks, as well as poor whites. While 
 he was a young man, and a member of the 
 Tennessee Legislature, he procured the passage 
 of a bill giving the right of trial by jury to 
 slaves. It was largely through his exertions 
 that the public lands were thrown open to the 
 people, that the right of pre-emption was 
 secured to actual settlers on the public domain, 
 
 I 
 
THOMAS H. BENTON. 
 
 215 
 
 and that the interests of pioneers and frontier- 
 men were measurably protected against greedy 
 and soulless speculators. 
 
 Benton was as true to his family and his 
 friends as he was to his country. He could not 
 be otherwise. Whatsoever or whomsoever he 
 cared for, became an object of solicitude to him, 
 and was sure of his sympathy and protection. 
 His family affections were very strong, and his 
 loyalty to all domestic relations was true and 
 chivalric. An anecdote which somewhat illus- 
 trates this phase of his character was told to 
 me by an intimate friend of Benton's, who was 
 a Avitness of the scene described. Mrs. Benton's 
 mind became impaired by a paralytic stroke, 
 but she always recognized her husband, and 
 was fond of being near him. A French prince, 
 wliose name I do not remember, was visiting 
 this country, and several distinguished residents 
 of St. Louis becoming acquainted with him, 
 they strongly desired to have him meet the 
 '' Great Missourian.^' The matter was arranged, 
 
216 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 and one evening a select party of Missourians 
 called, with the prince, on Benton. As they 
 were talking in the parlor, Mrs. Benton came 
 to the door, somewhat en deshabiUe, and stood 
 gazing at her husband with fond and intense 
 admiration. The attention of the company 
 being attracted in her direction, Benton turned 
 to see what the attraction was. On perceiving 
 his poor wife, he immediately arose, went to 
 her, took her tenderly by the hand, and leading 
 her into the room with the majesty of a demi- 
 god, said : '' My dear, Prince So-and-so; Prince, 
 Mrs. Benton, sir." Then affectionately placing 
 a hassock for her, by the side of his chair, he 
 resumed his seat, and leaving one of his hands 
 in hers for her to toy with, he went on with 
 the conversation with that impressive dignity 
 in which it is doubtful if he had an equal. My 
 informant added that the prince, taking in the 
 situation at a glance, adapted himself to the 
 occasion with consummate tact, while all the 
 Missourians were affected to tears. 
 
THOMAS H. BENTON. 217 
 
 This tough and affectionate old gladiator 
 died in 1858. He was "Thomas H. Benton, 
 sir," to the last gasp. He was eD gaged upon an 
 abridgment of the debates in Congress from 
 1T89 to 185G, but death cutting him short he 
 was able to bring the work down only to the 
 great debate on the Compromise Measures, in 
 1850. He finished the work by an exhibition of 
 fortitude and endurance which was character- 
 istic of him. Being too feeble to write, he 
 employed an amanuensis, and cairied on the 
 work by dictation ; and finally becoming unable 
 to speak aloud, he whispered the last few pages 
 of the work, as the breath was slowly fading 
 from his iron lips. 
 
218 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Henry Clay. 
 
 I. Some of Clay's distinguishing chakactekis- 
 
 TICS. 
 
 Henry Clay was the tallest of the great Sena- j 
 tors of his era, his height being six feet and one 
 inch, in his stockings. He was also the most 
 brilliant, the most chivalric, and by far the 
 most popular. Indeed, his popularity was phe- 
 nomenal — incredible to those w^ho v/ere not per- 
 sonally cognizant of it ; and he was justly 
 entitled to every bit of it. He possessed, in 
 remarkable fullness, all the qualities which win 
 and retain popularity. He was kind-hearted, 
 sympathetic, genial, tender, brave, honest, chiv- 
 alric, and always true and loyal to his friends. 
 His conscientiousness, hope, benevolence, firm- 
 ness, self-esteem and love of approbation were 
 
HENRY CLAY. 219 
 
 all largely developed and active ; so that he was 
 accommodating in friendship, but unyielding in 
 principle ; firm but gentle ; at once proud and 
 affable ; and both democratic and aristocratic by 
 nature and in manner. His good- nature and 
 his inborn American democratic-republicanism 
 gave a familiar and hail-fellow cast to his greet- 
 ings and his intercourse ; but his high-toned, 
 chivalric dignity of character pervaded his 
 genial familiarity, and kept his associates in 
 mind that it was not the familiarity of a common- 
 place personage, but that of a high-bred gentle- 
 man wlio, from his own inherent graciousness 
 and spirit of good fellowship, chose to be thus 
 affable. 
 
 This combination of quahties rendered Clay's 
 address spontaneously irresistible, and the first 
 fascinating impression was made enduring by 
 the action of other quahties which are right- 
 fully potential with mankind. He had a 
 marvelous faculty for seeing everything and 
 remembering everything— names, faces, places, 
 
220 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 events, scenes, and the topographical features 
 of a country through which he traveled. If he 
 met a man and spoke with him, he never 
 forgot him or the circumstances under which 
 they met. After spending a few hours in any 
 place through which he passed, he could recall 
 its features and peculiarities at any subsequent 
 time, however remote, and remember the 
 people he met there, and what their vocations 
 were, to the minutest particulars. This gave 
 him surpassing influence and popularity, inas- 
 much as it is pleasant to anybody to be remem- 
 bered for years by a distinguished personage. 
 The rare qualities mentioned in the preceding- 
 paragraph, which Henry Clay possessed in such 
 affluent degree, enabled him, naturally and 
 without effort, to make the most of these great 
 gifts of perception and memory. Nor was it a 
 matter of mere selfish policy for him to do so-; 
 It was the external outcome of the internal 
 man, the spontaneous effluence of the inner 
 spirit. He loved every part of his country 
 
HENRY CLAY 2'JI 
 
 with patriotic fervor, and took an interest in 
 every part of it, and in all of its inhabitants, 
 and sympathized with them and their pnrsuits. 
 He was the great champion of American Indns- 
 try, and wherever he saw a blacksmith's foi-gi', 
 or a carpenter shop, or a mill, or a factory, or 
 a stone quany, or a steam engine, or a printing- 
 press, or a mart of commerce, or a farming 
 region, his heart thrilled with interest and 
 went ont in patriotic affection for the people 
 who were at work in all those places. And 
 that was one of the chief reasons why he 
 remembered such things so well and was so 
 fond of talking about them.- His intense, 
 vivid, personal and patriotic devotion to the 
 industrial affairs of the country, stamped his 
 observations of them indelibly upon his memory, 
 and kept his interest in them ahve forever ; 
 while his broad and generous sympathy with 
 working-men gave a magnetic geniality to tlio 
 interest he felt in them which was inexpressibly 
 attractive and winning to the toilers. 
 
V 
 
 222 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 II. Leading characteristic of Clay's Mind — 
 
 His Oratory. 
 
 The leading characteristic of Henry Clay's 
 mind was penetration. His perceptive and 
 knowing faculties were so enormously devel- 
 oped that nothing could escape his alert 
 observation. He could instantaneously see 
 clear to the bottom of any subject that came 
 under his consideration. No sophistry could 
 deceive him, no trick of rhetoric could mislead 
 him, no sentimental eloquence could impose 
 upon him. In controversy he was logical, 
 witty, humorous, forcible, sarcastic, eloquent. • 
 His style was vehement and impassioned. His 
 voice was full, rich, clear, sweet, musical, and 
 as inspiring as a trumpet ; it was also so 
 penetrating that in the ordinary tones of 
 conversation it could be heard further than 
 the thick vocal bray of some of his rivals. 
 When he became excited in debate, his manner 
 was peculiarly knightly, gamy, audacious and 
 
p 
 
 HENRY ChATi. 00'? 
 
 sometimes arrogant. As he set fortli propo- 
 sition after proposition witli increasing energy 
 and fire, his tall form would seem to giow 
 taller and taller with every new statement, until 
 it reached a supernatural height ; his eyes 
 flashed and his hair waved wildly about his 
 head ; his long arms swept through the air ; 
 every lineament of his countenance spoke and 
 glowed, until the beholder might imagine that 
 lie saw a great soul on fire and expressing 
 itself through an organism which spontaneous- 
 ly responded to its every emotion. 
 
 The effect of Clay's oratory was much 
 enhanced by the peculiar conformation of his 
 forehead and that portion of his head which lay 
 above it. His perceptive organs projected far 
 out, the crown of his head was unusually high, 
 and a grand curvilinear line swept from the 
 frontal sinus between his eyes to the apex of 
 his head. This peculiar conformation gave liim 
 a commanding, eagle-like, soaring expression 
 which, in combination with his glowing fea- 
 
224 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 tures, his blazing eyes and his fiery eloquence, 
 sometimes excited the beholder's imagination 
 until he seemed to be rising in the air with the 
 orator. An accomplished old lady, who had 
 known Clay from her childhood, told me that 
 she never heard him, in one of his impassioned || 
 bursts of eloquence, witliout thinking of the 
 lines descriptive of the weird magician in Cole- 
 ridge's Kubla Khan : 
 
 " And all shall cry Beware ! Beware ! 
 His flashing eyes, his floating hair ; 
 Weave a circle round him thrice, 
 And close your lips with holy dread." 
 
 The secret of this unique and resistless char- 
 acter must be sought in the operation of Henry 
 Clay's environment upon his heredity or organic 
 structure, which was exceedingly unlike that of 
 any other human being. It has been said that 
 he was very tall ; he was likewise very thin. 
 Such a physical development is usually accom- 
 panied with looseness of joints, lankness of 
 person, and general bodily awkwardness, weak- 
 
HEIslRY CLAY. 99- 
 
 ness and flabbiness. But Henry Clay, though 
 so tall and so slender, was not afflicted with 
 even one of those undesirable characteristics. 
 He was perfectly symmetrical from his crown 
 to his heels ; his joints were firm and supple ; 
 his frame was elastic ; his bodily strength was 
 great ; his carriage was graceful and command- 
 ing. Of course, there were reasons for this, but 
 it is not easy to tell what the reasons were. It 
 is not easy to tell just how any human organism 
 is built up, nor how any human being comes to 
 pass in his totality. It may be said that Clay's 
 vital force was so prodigious that, operating 
 with liis harmonious temperaments and the 
 elevated spiritual nature which he possessed 
 from childhood, it sent his form up in graceful 
 contour and symmetrical development from 
 the sole of his feet to the crown of his head. 
 His limbs were long, his body was long, his 
 neck was long, and his head was long from the 
 base to the crown. And through all this singu- 
 lar organism the vital forces coursed in strenu- 
 
226 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 Oils, fiery currents, making Henry Clay the 
 livest man of whom it is possible to conceive. It 
 is difficult, perhaps impossible, to tell just 
 exactly how a lily or an oak comes to pass. We 
 know that it receives nourishment from the 
 earth beneath; and from the sun and air above ; 
 that in a general way the eai'th pushes and the 
 sun pulls, and in due time there stands the 
 lily or the oak. We also know that Henry Clay, 
 by virtue of his heredity and the operation of 
 his environment upon it, had faculties which, as 
 his development went on, took strong hold of 
 earthly things, and other faculties which took 
 strong hold of heavenly things ; and that the 
 earth faculties pushed and the heaven faculties 
 pulled until there stood the phenomenal man, 
 Harry Clay, of lofty, patriotic, genial, enthusi- 
 astic, sunny nature, who won the immeasurable 
 admiration of millions of minds and the endur- 
 ing affection of millions of hearts. 
 
 In addition to the attractive qualities already 
 mentioned, Henrv Clav was an honest man in 
 
p 
 
 HENRY CLAY. 907 
 
 I 
 
 national affairs, as well as in personal business 
 transactions. The people believed in his hon- 
 esty, and felt proud of it, and loved him more 
 intensel}' because he was honest. Every one is 
 familiar with the oft-quoted exclamation which 
 he uttered when some of his timid friends 
 thought that he was imperilhng his chances for 
 the Presidency. "But am I not right?" he 
 thundered. '• I'd rather be right than be Presi- 
 dent !" And he spoke the truth. He Avould 
 rather have been right once than President 
 twice. In this respect he differed from his 
 rivals, any of whom, it is to be feared, would 
 rather have been President once than right 
 many times. But Henry Clay belonged to that 
 small, inestimable class of great men who care 
 more for the integrity of their own souls, imder 
 the all-seeing eye of God, than for any degree 
 of worldly, success and fame. Directly in line 
 with these attractive characteristics there is, in 
 an exordium to a celebrated speech of Clay's, 
 which I shall by and by quote, an unconscious 
 
228 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 revelation of a trait of his character which 
 greatly endeared him to his friends. In that 
 exordium he speaks of being '^an old man — 
 quite an old man. But," he adds, ''it will be 
 found that I am not too old to vindicate my 
 principles, to stand by my friends, and to 
 defend myself." There spoke the inmost heart 
 and nature of Henry Clay. First in his solici- 
 tude, were his principles ; second, his friends ; 
 third and last, himself. 
 
 Clay was industrious and economical, and 
 led a simple, abstemious life. He was respect- 
 ful and reverent towards religion. He was 
 beloved by his friends and believed in by the 
 public at large. He, of course, had enemies — 
 bitter enemies ; but even they did not doubt 
 the sincerity of his patriotism, and they 
 respected his genius and his probity. All these 
 things added greatly to the effect of his oratory. 
 The fact that it was Harry Clay— the chivalric, 
 the honest, the patriotic Harry Clay, so beloved 
 by his friends, and so respected by his enemies 
 
HENRY CLAY. 220 
 
 —who was speaking, excited the imagination ..f 
 the auditors and stirred them into enthusiasm. 
 They felt sure that a great oratorical treat 
 was coming; and when he got fairly undt'r 
 way in debate, and was aroused by opposition 
 and goaded by the attacks of his adversaries, 
 his countenance would speak as well as his 
 tongue, and his whole body would become elo- 
 quent ; and his listeners — or at least the more 
 emotional and less logical portion of them — 
 captivated by the spell of his fascinating per- 
 sonality, would surrender their judgment and 
 resign themselves to his will. It used to be 
 said that Henry Clay, when pouring forth his 
 impassioned streams of oratory, had the most 
 looking countenance ever seen on mortal man. 
 And so he had. On such an occasion, there 
 was no passion of the soul or thought of the 
 mind which his countenance did not mii-ror 
 forth in rapid succession, as his wonderful 
 voice expressed the same thoughts and emotions 
 in tones which musically and vividly struck 
 
230 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 every cprd of the heart . And yet his language 
 was simple, and so was his style, and his dic- 
 tion flowed along in a stream of eloquence as 
 clear as crystal, which a child could understand, 
 and which the most experienced orator would 
 listen to with deliglit. 
 
 I am fully conscious that critical readers, 
 who are familiar with our parliamentary litera- 
 ture but never heard Clay speak, are ready to 
 ask : '^ If Henry Clay's speeches were so very 
 wonderful and captivating, why is it that 
 nobody ever reads any of them now ?" The 
 answer to that question is that Henry Clay's 
 speeches derived their irresistible power from his 
 irresistible personality. It was that- -his person, 
 ality which took people captive. He spoke to an 
 audience very much as an ardent lover speaks 
 to his sweatheart when pleading for her hand. 
 Everybody knows that the more successful a 
 lover's speech is on such an occasion, the less 
 readable it is when it gets into cold print. The 
 lover speaks for the purpose of carrying his 
 
 I 
 
HENRY CLAY. ^.^^ 
 
 point and winning liis cause just then and 
 thei-e, and is content with immediate success. 
 It was the same with Henry Clay. He spoke 
 to win his cause right there and then and gain 
 a favorable verdict on the spot ; and no lover 
 was ever more ardent, more vehement, more 
 impassioned, or more successful in his appeal 
 than Clay ; and he was content with his im- 
 mediate success. 
 
 Clay could tell an anecdote in a captivating 
 way. There was a freedom, a sweep, an 
 elegance in his anecdotal style which was very 
 taking. One of the anecdotes he was fond of 
 telling related to an incident which occurred in 
 Kentucky when he was abroad, in 1814, 
 acting as Commissioner in negotiating the 
 treaty of Ghent. He used to tell the story for 
 the purpose of illustrating how readily and 
 triumphantly a Kentucky stump speaker could 
 encounter an emergency and surmount an 
 obstacle. Clay, while abroad, was in the habit 
 of writing letters to his friends at home giving 
 
232 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 them an account of the progress of the 
 negotiation of the treaty. When a letter from 
 him arrived in Lexington, the news of its 
 reception would be circulated, and his neigh- 
 bors would assemble to hear it read. In one 
 of his letters, which was read to an out-door 
 crowd by a veteran politician, Clay used the 
 phrase sine qua non several times. At the 
 third repetition of the phrase, an old man, 
 wearing a hunting shirt, who stood on the edge 
 of the crowd, called out to the reader : 
 '^Say, Gineral, what's siner quer non?" 
 The '' Gineral " had no idea what the phrase 
 meant, but he was one of the kind who are 
 always equal to the occasion, and elevating his 
 voice to its utmost pitch, he shouted : 
 
 '' Sine qua non is an island in Passama- 
 
 quoddy Bay, and Henry Clay goes for Sine qua 
 non !" 
 
 This declaration w^as received with enthu- 
 siastic applause, and Henry Clay's great 
 reputation among his neighbors as a patriotic 
 
 1 
 
HENRY CLAY. 233 
 
 and unflinching upholder of his countiy's 
 rights against Great Britain became greater 
 than ever. 
 
 III. Clay's Chief Fault in Debate—His 
 Collision with Calhoun. 
 
 Clay's chief fault in debate was his arro- 
 gance, and his readiness, under strong excite- 
 ment, to say something so insulting that an 
 opponent had no alternative except to challenge 
 him, or treat him with silent disdain. A 
 memorable instance of this kind occurred in 
 a bitter and exciting contest which he had 
 Avith Calhoun, in 183S. Calhoun had coalesced 
 with Clay and the Whigs for several years in 
 their opposition to what they called the 
 despotism of President Jackson ; but soon after 
 Jackson's successor (Van Buren) began to 
 develop his policy, Calhoun signified his inten- 
 tion to support the Administration in opposition 
 to the Whigs. This annoyed Clay, because it 
 interfered with schemes of attack upon Van 
 
4 
 
 234 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 Buren's Administration, which he was maturing. ^ 
 Being thus annoyed, he assailed Calhoun with 
 great acrimony, goaded him with charges of 
 political vacillation, and taunted him with 
 sarcastic allusions to his alleged personal 
 tergiversations. This attack provoked the 
 urhane South Carolinian to retort severely ; 
 and he reminded Clay that in 1833, during the 
 nullification contest, he (Calhoun) had over- 
 mastered the Senator from Kentucky, and had 
 him fiat on his back. This was a legitimate 
 and parliamentary retort on the part of 
 Calhoun, but Clay took it as a personal affront, 
 and when he rose to reply he was furious. 
 Shaking his long, bony finger at Calhoun, he 
 exclaimed, in tones of passionate resentment : 
 
 '^Mr. President, he my master! I would 
 not own him for a slave !" 
 
 In those days, and in the society in which 
 Clay and Calhoun moved, the report of a duel- 
 ling pistol was the only voice with which such 
 an insult could be answered ; and as Calhoun 
 
,. HENRY CLAY. oo-. 
 
 [t was incapable of being a duellist, a silence of 
 years fell between those great men ; a silence 
 which was not broken until Clay took leave of 
 the Senate, as he supposed forever, in 1842. On 
 that occasion he referred to his unfortunate 
 liabit of undue excitement in debate, and made 
 such a manly and touching apology for all his 
 offences against parliamentary decorum that 
 there was hardly a dry eye in the Senate cham- 
 ber ; and Calhoun, leaving his seat, walked over 
 to Clay and extended his hand, which was cor- 
 dially taken, and they were thenceforth friend?. 
 It must have been an impressive and affecting 
 scene when those courtly Senatorial champions 
 thus clasped hands after an estrangement which 
 had lasted for vears. Each was a perfect mas- 
 ter of all the arts of courtesy and salutation, 
 but differed sharply in spirit and manner. This 
 difference of spirit and manner was apparent in 
 the reception they accorded to strangers who 
 were introduced to them. Clay, while formally 
 polite and courteous, was so captivatingly 
 
236 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 democratic in his hearty and sympathetic spirit 
 of fellowship, that a stranger, however humble 
 in station, at once felt at home with the affable 
 and cordial Kentuckian ; while Calhoun, 
 although equally polite and courteous, was so 
 thoroughly aristocratic in his exquisite urbanity, 
 that a stranger, while charmed with his genial 
 and benignant greeting, yet felt that there was 
 a barrier between him and the stately South 
 Carolinian which, though slight as gossamer, 
 was as impenetrable as granite. 
 
 IV. The way in w^hich Calhoun, Benton, Clay 
 AND Webster greeted Strangers. 
 
 The dispositions of the four great Senators— 
 Calhoun, Benton, Clay and Webster— were 
 indicated by their treatment of sti^angers who 
 were introduced to them. It was customary 
 for strangers in Washington to seek introduc- 
 tions to these distinguished men. and every 
 Eepresentative in Congress was expected by 
 his visiting constitutents to procure them such 
 
HENRY CLAY. 237 
 
 introdactions. I witnessed many of these pre- 
 sentations. The usual form was: "Mi-. , 
 
 permit me to introduce to you Mr. Jorkins, one 
 of my constituents." I have akeady described 
 Calhoun's way of responding to such introduc- 
 tions, and there is nothing to be added to the 
 description. 
 
 Benton's mode of receiving a stranger thus 
 introduced to him was overwhelmingly Ben- 
 tonian. If the reader will take the trouble to 
 recall the delineation of Benton's character, 
 which is given in the preceding chapter, lie will 
 readily understand that Benton would consider 
 the desire of a stranger to be introduced to him, 
 an eminently proper desire. What, indeed, 
 should anybody come to Washington for, 
 except to be introduced to the Great Mis- 
 sourian ? How could anybody who had come 
 to Washington think of leaving the city with- 
 out being introduced to the Great Missourian ? 
 Such was Benton's view of the subject ; and 
 Benton was the mjn to show the public-spirited 
 
23S GREAT SEKATORS. 
 
 American citizen, who naturally wanted to be 
 introduced to America's greatest citizen, that 
 his patriotic aspirations were duly appreciated 
 by the eminent personage who called them 
 forth. So, when Jorkins, of Jorkinsville, was 
 introduced to Benton, the Great Missourian, 
 crushing the poor fellow's hand in his iron 
 grip, would exclaim, with the imperious air 
 of a demigod, and in tones that could be heard 
 ringing through the corridors : 
 
 ^' How do you do, Mr. Jorkins, sir ? I am 
 very glad to see you, sir. I hope you are very 
 well, sir. I trust you are having a pleasant visit 
 in Washington, sir ;" and so on, in a roaring 
 avalanche of vociferous courtesy, which would 
 fill Jorkins with trepidation, and cause him to 
 break away as soon as possible and flee from 
 the overwhelming presence. 
 
 Webster evidently felt such introductions to 
 be an intolerable bore, and seldom took the 
 trouble to conceal his annoyance. Usually, his 
 manner, on such occasions, was freezingly indif- 
 
HENRY CLAY. ^39 
 
 fereiit. He seemed to be preoccupied ajid 
 unable to bring his mind to the cognition of the 
 rural Jorkins. Sometimes he did not even look 
 at the person introduced, but meclianicallv 
 extended his hand, and permitted the stranger 
 to shake it, if he had the courage to do so. I 
 have seen members of Congress turn crimson 
 with indignation at Webster's ungracious 
 reception of their constituents. They felt that 
 his manner was a personal insult to them, and 
 their constituents shared their opinion and 
 sympathized with their indignation. Doubt- 
 less, many enemies were thus made by Web- 
 ster, whose adverse influence was afterwaids 
 felt in the Whig National Conventions, of 
 which he so repeatedly and so vainly sought a 
 nomination to the Presidency. 
 
 I have already indicated what Clay's manner 
 of receiving a stranger was ; but no description 
 of it can give an adequate idea of its warmth, 
 its graciousness, its complete satisfactoriness, 
 both to the introducer and to the constituent 
 
240 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 introduced. Clay's manner to a niember of 
 Congress who introduced a constituent to him 
 was such as led the stranger to imagine that 
 his Representative was one of the most intimate 
 and cherished friends that Clay had on earth ; 
 and his reception of the stranger caused him to 
 feel that for some reason it gave Clay a peculiar 
 personal gratification to make his acquaintance. 
 Then Clay would at once begin to talk with 
 Jorkins about affairs in Jorkinsville. He 
 would remember everybody he had ever met 
 from Jorkinsville ; or he might have passed 
 through that region years before, and in that 
 case he would have a vivid recollection of the 
 country and its inhabitants. And he would 
 send messages, by Jorkins, to all his ''eld 
 friends " in Jorkinsville ; and, of course, when 
 Jorkins got home he lost no time in delivering 
 the messages, in order to let his neighbors know 
 how intimate he had been with " Hariy Clay " 
 while he was in Washington. It does not 
 require much sagacity to perceive that Jorkins 
 
HENRY CLAY. 241 
 
 and all his tribe, even if they were Democrats, 
 would be personally friendly to Henry Clay. 
 
 V. Tom Marshall's Anecdote. 
 
 Thomas F. Marshall, better known as Tom 
 Marshall, a celebrated Kentucky lawyer and 
 orator of the past generation, (who, unfortun- 
 ately, was too much given to strong drink,) 
 used to tell how he was driven to the bottle and 
 his law partner to the Bible, in a way which 
 humorously but powerfully suggests Clay's 
 marvelous ability as an advocate. "The way 
 of it was this,'' Marshall used to say. "Bob 
 Breckenridge " (Robert Jefferson Breckenridge, 
 afterwards a distinguished clergymen)— "Bob 
 Breckenridge and I formed a partnership when 
 we first started out to practice law. The firm 
 of Breckenridge and Marshall soon began to take 
 the lead of all the law firms in Kentucky. We 
 marched right on. without a break, until, in our 
 own opinion at least, we were at the head of the 
 State bar, with one sohtary exception ; and that 
 
■24:2 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 exception was Henry Clay. We had never had 
 a chance at him ; hut we had no douht what- 
 ever as to what the result would be if we should 
 have the good fortune to encounter him in open 
 court. We felt assured that we should at once 
 and forever put an end to his supremacy and | 
 soar to the head ourselves. We w^atched for an 
 opportunity to tackle the old lion, and, after a 
 long wait, fortune at last favored us. We 
 heard that Clay had been retained to prosecute 
 a certain case^ and we immediately rushed off 
 and volunteered our services to the defence, so 
 as to get a chance at him. Our offer was 
 accepted and we awaited the day of the trial 
 with feelings of fretful impatience solaced with 
 anticipations of triumph. Time dragged heavily 
 on, but finally the day of trial came. When it 
 cime to the summing up, as Breckenridge and I 
 both wanted to take a hand in laying out Clay, 
 we arranged with the judge that we should 
 divide our time between us, and each address 
 the jury. I, being the junior partner, spoke 
 
HENRY CLAY. <24:] 
 
 first. When I arose to begin my plea, I felt a 
 ■ pang of i-emorse at the thought that I was about 
 to displace the splendid old man who sat before 
 me from his proud pre-emmence, and myself 
 take the honored position which he had so long 
 conspicuously occupied. But I smothered my 
 sentimentality and proceeded to business. I had 
 made elaborate preparation for the occasion, and 
 I did it and myself the amplest justice. I felt 
 that Clay could hardly hold up his head after I 
 got through with him. In fact, in my own 
 estimation, I laid him out so cold that nothing 
 was left for Breckenridge to do but to dance on 
 his remains; and he did dance on them— a 
 regular w^ar dance. When Bob concluded and 
 sat down, we expected that Clay would throw- 
 up the sponge without attempting any reply to 
 'our unanswerable arguments and eloquence. 
 But not a bit of it. The old lion got up, and 
 with one swoop of his paw he drove Brecken- 
 ridge to the Bible and me to the bottle, and we 
 iiave both been there ever since.'' 
 
244 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 VI. Clay's Felicity in Exordium — A Notable 
 
 Example. 
 
 Henry Clay, like Shakespeare and many 
 another genius, was taught less by the schools 
 than by nature and experience. He began a 
 speech with the same masterly simplicity, 
 directness and precision with which Shakes- 
 peare begins a drama. His exordium exhibited 
 all the Quintilian attributes. It was brief, it 
 was in keeping with the subject and the 
 occasion, and it prepossessed the audience in 
 favor of the speakei* and his cause. His 
 language and his metaphors always exactly 
 fitted the place, the occasion, the audience and 
 the circumstances. I will give an example 
 w^hich will illustrate what I mean ; but I must 
 first venture upon a brief sketch leading up to 
 the occasion. 
 
 When Clay retired from the Senate in 1842, 
 it was known that he did so because, on account 
 of the betrayal of the Whig party by John 
 
HENRY CLAY. 04;, 
 
 Tyler on his accidental accession to the Presi- 
 dency, Clay found himself in a minority in tlm 
 Senate, although the Whigs had a majority 
 there. The Tyler Whigs, following the pap 
 spoon and uniting with the Democrats, defeated 
 Clay's efforts to get Whig measun^s through 
 Congress. As Benton graphically said, hy a 
 singular process of political filtration Clay's 
 influence was dissipated until he found himself 
 a dreg in the party of which for years he had 
 been the conspicuous leader. Clay's proud 
 spirit could not brook such humiliation, and so 
 he resigned his seat in the Senate. And as 
 soon as he resigned he was missed, and the 
 masses of the Whig party began to nnitter 
 ominously. They wanted their old leader back 
 in his rightful place. Besides, Clay was poor- 
 poor notwithstanding his thirty-five years of 
 public service ; for he was not one of those 
 statesmen who, on a five-thousand-dollar salary, 
 manage to lay up two hundred and fifty thou- 
 sand dollars per annum. He went home to 
 
/ 
 
 246 GRExlT SENATORS. 
 
 Lexington, (Ky.,) hired a little office and 
 resumed the practice of the law for the purpose 
 of earning his daily bread. Such a spectacle as 
 that moved the heart of the nation. The rank 
 and tile of the Whig party began to clamor for 
 Henry Clay's nomination for the Presidency in 
 1844:. This alarmed the Democrats and Clay's 
 personal enemies, and excited the jealousy of 
 his rivals in his own party. It was felt by all 
 those people that Henry Clay must be killed 
 off ; and for the purpose of killing him off a 
 concerted system of attack was devised. 
 Streams of detraction were poured upon him 
 from all parts of the country ; and this course 
 was persisted in until the defamation became 
 unendurable. In 1843 Clay announced that on 
 a certain day he would meet his fellow-citizens 
 face to face at Lexington, and reply to his 
 detainers. On the day appointed, a vast con- 
 course assembled at Lexington from the 
 surrounding country. I hope the reader will 
 try to summon up a mental picture of the 
 
HENRY CLAY. c^4j 
 
 scene, so that he may enjoy the fehcitousness 
 of the orator's opening sentences. Theiv tin; 
 venerable chieftain was, in his old h(jnie, and 
 before him were aged men who had begnn their 
 career in that region when he began his. 
 And tlure were the children and grandcliildren 
 of his old comrades who all their lives had 
 heard eulogiums upon Henry Clay ; and there 
 were thousands of his fellow -citizens from near 
 and far who were ready to do battle for him. 
 And they were all, Kent uckians-- hunters of 
 Kentucky, familiar with the forest and the 
 chase. As the aged orator arose and stood 
 before them, there was the solemn hush of a 
 great silence. With his tall form feebly bent, 
 he began : 
 
 ''1 am an old man— quite an old man ; ])ut " 
 (and here he straightened himself up and his 
 eyes flashed) " it will be found that I am not too 
 old to vindicate my principles, to stand by my 
 friends, and to defend myself. It so happens 
 that I have again located myself, in the prac- 
 
2J:8 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 tice of my profession, in an office within a few 
 rods of the one which I occupied when, more 
 than forty years ago, I first came among you, 
 an orphan and a stranger, and your fathers took 
 me by the hand and made me what I am. I 
 feel hke an old stag, which has long been 
 coursed by the hunters and the hounds through 
 brakes and bricirs, and o'er distant plains, and 
 has at last returned to his ancient lair to lay 
 himself down and die. And yet the vile curs 
 of party are barking at my heels, and the blood- 
 hounds of personal malignity are aiming at my 
 throat. I scorn and defy them as I ever did r 
 
 By this time the hearts of that great multi- 
 tude were on fii'e, and 
 
 (i 
 
 At once there rose so wild a yell, 
 
 * * * * 
 
 As all the fiends from heaven that fell 
 Had pealed the banner-cry of hell.'' 
 
 Cries and sobs and shouts hurtled in the air, 
 and there was a fierce looking around for ene- 
 mies of Henry Clay ; but, fortunately, none of 
 
HENRY CLAY. 24!) 
 
 his enemies were visible to the naked eye, and 
 so nobody was lynched. But when silence and 
 calmness were restored, the old man '' lose to 
 the occasion," and in a speech oP impassioned 
 eloquence, lasting for hours and ranging over 
 his whole public hfe, he vindicated his princi- 
 ples, he stood by his friends, he defended him- 
 self. It was a long-continued storm of eloquence 
 which rolled over the savannahs of the Soutli 
 and the prairies of the West, burst through the 
 Alleghanies, swept along the Atlantic seaboard, 
 thundered across the Middle States, broke on 
 the granite hills of New Hampshire, reverber- 
 ated througli New England, and at Baltimore, 
 in '44, gave Henry Clay the Whig nomination 
 to the Presidency by acclamation, without the 
 formality of a ballot. 
 
 Perhaps some of the readers of these pages 
 remember that enthusiastic campaign of 1844, 
 and also remember what bitter disappointment 
 and what mourning there were when it was 
 learned that the gallant and peerless " Harry of 
 
250 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 the West " had heen beaten, as a broken-hearted 
 Whig poet said : 
 
 " By little Jimmy Polk of Tennessee ; 
 Oolah, a-lah, oolali ee, 
 Let's climb the wild persimmon tree !" 
 
 The chief cause of Clay's defeat was his 
 opposition to the annexation of Texas and the 
 extension of slavery. He was fighting against 
 destiny. The annexation of Texas and all that 
 followed in its train had to come, and fill the 
 land with turmoil, and strife, and blood, and 
 death, till freedom triumphed and slavery was 
 extinguished. And so we enthusiastic admirers 
 of Henry Clay can look back with resignation . 
 upon the omission of his election to the Presi- 
 dency from the great programme of events 
 which was prepared for us by the hand of God. 
 
 Henry Clay died at Washington, June 29, 
 1852, in his seventy-sixth year. 
 
DANIEL WEBSTEll. 
 
 251 
 
 CHAPTER Yl/ 
 
 Daniel Webster. 
 
 L The Godlike Daj^iel. — His greatxess. — His 
 PERsojq^AL Appearance. 
 
 The last and greatest personage of whom I 
 have to treat is Daniel Webster. I have writ- 
 ten of three great men — three very great men, 
 Calhoun, Benton and Clay ; but, great as they 
 were, Daniel Webster, in downright intellectual 
 power and main strength of mentality, was 
 equal to all three of them taken together. 
 
 Tlie reader is doubtless familiar with the fact 
 that in Webster's day he was caUed " The God- 
 'like Daniel." The appehation fitted him. He 
 was godlike in appearance and in power. He 
 was not so tall as Clay, but he was much larger 
 and more massive in every way. He had l)road 
 shoulders, a deep chest, and a large frame. I 
 
 I 
 
252 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 have seen men taller than Webster ; I have seen 
 men larger ; but I never saw anyone who looked 
 so large and grarld as he did when he was 
 aroused in debate. 
 
 Webster's head was phenomenal in size, and 
 beauty of outline, and grandeur of appearance. 
 It used to be said of him that he had brain 
 enough to make several good heads. His brow 
 was so protuberant that his eyes, though un- 
 usually large, seemed sunken, and were likened 
 unto ^' great burning lamps set deep in the 
 mouths of caves." But large as his Perceptive 
 organs were, his Eeflectives bulged out over 
 them. His causality was massively developed ; 
 and his organ of comparison, which was larger 
 even than his causality, protruded as though 
 nature, in building Webster's head, having dis- 
 tributed her superabundant material as well as 
 she could, found at the last that she had such a 
 lot of bi-ain matter left on hand, that, in despair, 
 she dabbed it on in front and let it take its 
 chance of sticking ; and it stuck. The head. 
 
 I 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER. 258 
 
 the face, the whole presence of Webster, was 
 I kingly, majestic, godhke. And when one heard 
 him speak, he found that Webster's voice was 
 just exactly the kind of voice that such a look- 
 ing man ought to have. It was deep, resonant, 
 mellow, sweet, with a thunder roll in it which, 
 when let out to its full power, w^as awe inspir- 
 ing. In ordinary speech its magnificent bass 
 notes rolled forth like the rich tones of a deei)- 
 voiced organ ; but when he chose to do so, he 
 could elevate his voice in ringing, clarion, 
 tenor tones of thrilling power. He also had a 
 faculty of magnifying a word into such pro- 
 digious volume and force that it would drop 
 from his lips as a great boulder might drop 
 through the ceiling, and jar the Senate chamber 
 : like a clap of thunder. 
 
 The color of Mr. Webster's hair, at this 
 period of his life (1848) was a rich iron gray. 
 His complexion was dark bronze. When he 
 became animated, his complexion would glow 
 so that his appearance made one think of a 
 
254 GREAT SENATOPiS. 
 
 transparent bronze statue, brilliantly lighted 
 from within, with the luminosity shining out 
 through the countenance. On such occasions a 
 singular light would play, or seem to play, upon 
 his massive forehead, which was perhaps a 
 reflection from the | great luminous eyes that 
 y glowed with starlike splendor beneath his over- 
 hanging brows, f And from this magnificent 
 presence there emanated an atmosphere and 
 sense of power — of power that could be felt, of 
 power which seized upon the imagination of the 
 beholder, and held him breathless when he first 
 felt it, as one stands breathless when he sudden- 
 ly comes into the presence of a scene in nature 
 whose sublinjity is overwhelming. Nor when 
 this first startling effect became toned down by 
 time, did the impression of Webster's power 
 grow any less ; as one repeatedly saw him, or 
 became more intimate with him, the sense and 
 conviction of his power, instead of growing less, 
 increased ; and whenever he was aroused, and 
 began to put forth his power, one felt that it 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER. 255 
 
 was measureless, fathomless, endless; that 
 there were vast floods of it still in reserve and 
 ij ready to be poured forth on sufficient provo- 
 cation. 
 
 II. Webster's First Appearance (of the 
 Session) in the Senate. 
 
 I have a distinct recollection of Webster as 
 he looked the first time I saw him. He had 
 been ill, and several wxeks elapsed, after the 
 session of Congress began, before he came into 
 tlie Senate chamber. I was occupying the 
 reporter's seat then assigned to the members of 
 the Intelligencer^ s corps, one forenoon, w^hen 
 there was a good deal of noise and bustle in the 
 Senate, but no debate going on. Suddenly 
 silence fell upon the chamber. I looked up and 
 saw all eyes turned in the direction of an aisle 
 which led from one of the doors past the 
 reporter's seat. I looked to see what it was 
 that so rivetted everybody's attention. It was 
 Webster. He was coming slowly along the 
 
i 
 
 256 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 aisle directly towards nie. I knew him, partly 
 from pictures I had seen of him, but more from 
 the fact that I felt it could not be anybody else, 
 for, at the moment, I had an unreflecting, boy- 
 ish feeling that there could not be two such 
 men in the world at the same time, and that 
 this one must be Webster. He was pale, and .| 
 walked feebly. But the picturesque majesty 
 v/as there ; the overpowering intellectuality was '{ 
 there. That enormous and beautiful head, 
 those wonderful eyes, that stately carriage, that 
 Jove like front, all proclaimed that the godlike 
 Daniel had come into the Senate House and was 
 advancing to his seat. 
 
 The silence with which Webster was received 
 on that occasion was like the silence which his 
 appearance in the Senate chamber, or his rising 
 to speak, always caused. No other Senator was 
 ever listened to with the respect which he com- 
 manded. When Benton addressed the Senate, 
 there was more than ordinary attention ac- 
 corded to him. When Calhoun spoke, he was. 
 
I DANIEL WEBSTER. 257 
 
 listened to with more attention than Benton 
 received ; Clay was still more favored than 
 Calhoun ; but when Webster arose there was 
 instantly a solemn hush, and the intense soHci- 
 tude of great and eager expectation at once 
 became regnant. Information that Webster 
 was up spread hke wildfire, and the Senate 
 chamber was immediately packed with eager 
 listeners. 
 
 Webster vvas in miserable health nearly the 
 entire session, and only looked his best on a few 
 occasions when his indignation was roused 
 almost to rage. He sometimes had a cadaver- 
 ous appearance, as though on the verge of 
 J dissolution ; he seemed absorbed and uncon- 
 scious of his surroundings, and a woe- begone 
 expression often overshadowed his lionlike 
 countenance. But well or ill, his rising to 
 speak was a signal for silence and concentrated 
 attention. In ^'Paradise Lost," Milton, in 
 describing the rising of a supernatural orator to 
 address a supernatural audience, gives the only 
 
258 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 exact description of Webster, as he looked in 
 those days, when he arose to address the Senate, 
 that I have ever met v^ith. 
 
 ' ' "With grave 
 Aspect he rose, and in his rising seemed 
 A pillar of state ; deep on his front engraven 
 Deliberation sat, and public care ; 
 And princely counsel in his face yet shone, 
 Majestic, though in ruin. Sage he stood, 
 With Atlanteau shoulders, fit to bear 
 The weight of miijhtiest monarchies; his look 
 Drew audience and attention still as night 
 Or summer's noontide air." 
 
 III. Webster's mental make-up. — His ora- 
 tory. 
 
 Webster's mental make-up was, beyond all 
 question, the most wonderful ever known on 
 this continent. His perceptive faculties were 
 so keen, so acquisitive and so retentive that J| 
 nothing eluded their observation or escaped " 
 from their grasp ; and his analytical and 
 reasoning powers were so great that they could 
 rapidly and logically work up all the materials 
 which his Perceptives supplied them with. His 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER. 259 
 
 imagination was vivid, and his veneration was 
 so large and active that its influence pervaded 
 his affections and imparted an elevated and 
 reverent quality to the operations of his mind. 
 Thus his observing, knowing, reflecting and 
 descriptive faculties were all powerfully devel- 
 oped, while his imagination and reverence gave 
 him great richness and elevation of style. He 
 was unrivalled in stating a case, or in describ- 
 ing a scene or a situation, or in developing an 
 argument, or in telling a story or an anecdote, 
 or in appealing to the imagination or the sym- 
 pathies of intelligent people. 
 
 In order to understand Webster's greatness, 
 we must take into consideration the important 
 truth that the aggregation or multiphcation of 
 inferiority cannot produce superiority. It is 
 said that the famous race horse Eclipse could 
 run a mile in a minute. That being the fact, 
 it would be no use to get together a score of 
 horses that could not run a mile in less than 
 two minutes, with the expectation of having 
 
260 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 them all together outrun Eclipse. Speed can- 
 not be compassed by aggregating slowness. 
 Webster's brain was so much larger than other 
 brains, and of so much finer quality, that it 
 developed an intellectual power which was 
 relatively to the power of other brains what the 
 speed of Eclipse was relatively to the speed of 
 his rivals on the turf. It was absolutely unap- 
 proachable. A whole Senate chamberful of 
 other and lesser minds could not successfully 
 grapple with that one mind, any more than a 
 whole field of less speedy horses could cope with 
 the matchless Eclipse. 
 
 Webster had the advantage of having a 
 body large enough to support his large brain. 
 And then his temperaments — bilious, nervous, 
 sanguine and lymphatic — were so completely 
 harmonized, and his whole physical organism 
 was so thoroughly correlated with them, that 
 his vast brain power was perpetually nourished 
 and kept in a vigorous state of recuperation. 
 This gave him a wonderfully symmetiical 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER. 261 
 
 combination of mental powers which issued in 
 a substantialness and fineness of mind that 
 made his intellect unrivalled for strength, 
 endurance, warmth, susceptibility and elas- 
 ticity ; for clearness^ depth and breadth of view, 
 and for acuteness of penetration and tenacity 
 of grip. Wherefore, when Webster was thor- 
 oughly aroused, his power was irresistible. 
 Benton had remarkable ability in building up 
 an argument out of hard facts cemented with 
 ingenious reasoning. Like a military engineer, 
 he would construct fortification after fortifica- 
 tion, and combine thei. so they would mutually 
 support one another, and be impregnable 
 against the assaults of his opponents, except 
 when Webster assailed them. But what fort- 
 ress so strong that it can vrithstand the earth- 
 quake's shock ? And when Webster was fully 
 aroused, he at once plunged down to the basic 
 principles underlying the subject, and his resist- 
 less reasoning, rising from unfathomable logical 
 depths, with earthquake force upheaved the 
 
262 GREAT SEI^ATORS. 
 
 foundations of the strongest intellectual fortress' 
 that could be reared against him, and tumbled] 
 the whole fabric in ruins. 
 
 There was one trait of Webster's mind] 
 which seems never to have been understood ;j 
 and that was its subtlety. He was so powerful, 
 and knew his power so well, that he almost] 
 always preferred to win his battles by sheer 
 main strength. But when he chose to resort to 
 insinuating shrewdness, he could beat, at their 
 own game, any of his opponents who relied on 
 their subtlety for success. Scott's anecdote of 
 Eichard Coeui de Lion's showing his strength 
 by severing a thick bar of iron with one blow 
 of his ponderous sword, while his Saracenic 
 rival, Saladin, proved his skill by cutting in 
 twain a piece of floating gossamer with his 
 subtle blade, is often used to illustrate the 
 mental difference of intellectual rivals. In 
 comparing Webster with Calhoun, it has been 
 customary to assume that Webster is repre- 
 sented by Richard and Calhoun by Saladin. 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER. 263 
 
 There is no doubt, whatever, that Calhoun 
 possessed a mind of ahnost superhuman acute- 
 ness and subtlety ; but it was not so acute nor 
 so subtle as Webster's ; for, although, meta- 
 phorically speaking, Webster wielded the 
 ponderous blade of Eichard with unequalled 
 strength, he also handled the subtle cimeter of 
 Saladin with unrivalled skill. 
 
 In truth, Webster's mind was both tele- 
 scopic and microscopic ; his comprehension was 
 both vast and minute, and took in the slightest 
 facts as well as the grandest principles. 
 Intellectually, his reach was vast and compre- 
 hensive, his grasp strong and tenacious, his 
 touch sensitive and delicate. His powers of 
 delineation and elucidation were so great that 
 he could group the details of his subject so that 
 every fact and point and principle would stand 
 out from the lucid depths of his argument clear 
 as crystals, and then he could unfold and illus- 
 trate his points with captivating beauty of diction 
 and majesty of style, investing his theme with 
 
264: GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 ideal attractiveness, and pouring through it all 
 a stream of the clearest reasoning and the 
 soundest philosophy. His taste was severe ; he 
 never said a word too much, nor used a word 
 that was not suited to his purpose. When his 
 heart was deeply moved by some great theme, 
 / and his affections were enlisted in his cause, 
 and his intellect was ablaze with the truths he 
 was developing, his eloquence would sometimes 
 rise to dizzying heights and be illuminated with 
 bursts of dazzling splendor, which were never 
 far-fetched or incongruous, but were simply the 
 natural luminosity of the intellectual radiance 
 shining through the translucent gems of his 
 thought. 
 
 Practically, Webster's mind was the perfec- 
 tion of common sense. No matter how wide 
 his reasoning ranged, nor how high his 
 imagination soared, his judgment never left its 
 feet. His mind, like the eternal Word described 
 by the Son of Sirach, though ^^it touched the 
 heavens, yet stood upon the earth." His 
 
 \ 
 \ 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER.- 265 
 
 poAvers of abstraction and concentration were 
 so great that, as through a mental sunglass, he 
 could focus the burning rays of his genius upon 
 any subject he was discussing until he set it 
 ablaze with luminous demonstration. His 
 power of condensation was equally great ; and 
 his condensation never clouded ^his style nor 
 obscured his argument. Like the condensation 
 of the diamond, it was the result of crystallza- 
 tion — of absolute perfection in the adjustment 
 of parts, and the elimination from its substance 
 of whatever would tarnish its translucency. 
 
 Quintilian, in his immortal " Institutes of 
 Oratory," in which he lays nearly all the learn- 
 ing and eloquence of Greece and Eome under 
 contribution, tells us that a plea, or an oration, 
 consists of five parts— the exordium, the state- 
 ment of fact, proof of statement, reply to 
 adversary, and peroration. He lays great 
 stress ui)on the exordium, and says it should 
 be brief, in keeping with the subject, and of 
 such a nature as to prepossess the tribunal 
 
11 
 
 266 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 ( 
 
 I 
 
 or audience in favor of tlie speaker and his 
 cause. Webster was a master of exordium, as - 
 witness the exordium of his Plymouth Eock ■ 
 Oration, of his Oration on Laying the Corner- 
 stone of Bunker Hill Monument, or of any of 
 his great speeches, and especially the exordium 
 of his speech in reply to Hayne. Quintilian 
 considers the statement of facts of paramount 
 importance, and says it must be lucid, in order 
 that it may be easily understood ; brief, that it 
 may be easily remembered ; credible, that it may 
 be readily believed . ( Any one who has read many 
 of Webster's speeches must have been struck I 
 with the predominance of these qualities — lucid- 
 ity, brevity and credibility— in his statement of I 
 facts. It used to be said of him that he often 
 won his cause by his masterly statement of it, 
 which was so clear that everybody understood 
 it, so brief that everybody remembered it, so • 
 credible that everybody believed it.> His demon- 
 stration of his statement, his reply to his oppo- 
 nents, and his peroration were equally admirable, 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER. 207 
 
 powerful and effective. Hence when he got 
 through with a subject, there was a pretty gen- 
 eral feehng that that was all there was of it ; 
 that it would be useless for anybody else to say 
 anything about it ; that Webster had been 
 ^* given a mouth and wisdom which all his 
 adversaries should not be able to gainsay nor 
 resist." Perhaps I cannot more appropriately 
 conclude this delineation of IWebster's oratorical 
 gifts and characteristics than by applying to 
 him a paraphrase of what Quintihan says of 
 Cicero, to wit : That in his grandest efforts he 
 exhibited the energy of Demosthenes, the com- 
 prehensiveness of Plato, and the sweetness of 
 Isocrates; and this, not by reason of any particu- 
 lar study of those great models, but from the 
 felicitous exuberance of his immortal genius.) 
 
 IV. Webster as a Parliamentary Leader. 
 
 When Webster chose to assume the attitude 
 of a parliamentary leader in the Senate, (which 
 he seldom did,) he played the eminent role with 
 
268 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 surpassing ability. I saw him in that part but 
 once ; it was on an occasion which called forth 
 all his varied powers, and especially his tact and 
 subtlety. It was the last night of the session, 
 and of Polk's Administration, Saturday, March 
 3, 18tl:9. The session expired, by limitation, at 
 midnight, at which hour the Thirtieth Congress 
 completed its term and passed into history. 
 
 What was then called the- Great Civil and 
 Diplomatic Appropriation bill, without the pas- 
 sage of which the Government could not go on, 
 for want of funds, still hung in the Senate, 
 encumbered with amendments. The bill estab- 
 lishing the Interior Department was also still 
 before the Senate, encumbered with amend- 
 ments and bitterly opposed by a large number 
 of Democratic Senators who could not tolerate 
 the idea of creating a new department of the 
 Government, with its hundreds of clerkships, 
 just as their party was going out of power and 
 a Whig Administration was coming in. 
 
 The Interior Department was an offshoot of 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER. 209 
 
 the Treasury Department, the burdens of which 
 had become so enormous that it was necessary 
 to reheve it of a portion of them by the creation 
 of a new department to which they could be 
 transferred. The bill to estabhsh the Interior 
 Department was drawn by Robert J. Walker, 
 the Democratic Secretary of the Treasury, who 
 made energetic exertions to secure its passage. 
 But, notwithstanding Mr. Walker's influence, 
 nearly all the Democratic Senators were strongly 
 opposed to the bill, and a few of the Whig 
 members took sides against it. Calhoun saw 
 in it an insidious and dangerous attack upon 
 State rights. He said : 
 I " Mr. President, there is something ominous 
 in the expression, 'The Secretary of the 
 Interior.' This Government was made to take 
 charge of the exterior relations of the States. 
 And if there had been no exterior relations the 
 Federal Government would never have existed 
 —the exterior relations with foreign countries 
 and the exterior relations of States with States, 
 
270 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 and that only carried to a very limited extent. 
 Sir, the name ' Interior Department ' itself 
 indicates a great change in the public mind. 
 What has been the cause ? We are told that 
 the business of Government now has become 
 such that the existing departments are over- 
 loaded, and that it requires a new department 
 to be constituted. ^ ^ ^ If the departments 
 are overcharged, what has been the cause? 
 Has it not resulted from the overaction of our 
 Government ? Is it not a strong admonition to 
 us to retrace many of our steps, instead of 
 forming new machinery to give a new impulse 
 to that overaction ? and a very powerful 
 impulse this measure will give. ^ ^ - Every- 
 thing upon the face of God's earth will go into 
 this Interior Department — Indian Affairs, 
 Patent Office, Land Office, Public Buildings, 
 all, all throw^n together without the slightest 
 connection. This thing ought not to be. This 
 is a monstrous bill. It is ominous. It will 
 turn over the Avhole interior affairs of the coun- 
 
DAXIEL WEBSTER. 271 
 
 try to this department ; and it is one of the 
 greatest steps that ever has been made in my 
 time to absorb all the remaining powers of the 
 States. Si]', it is time to stop. Ours is a 
 Federal Government. The States are the con- 
 stituents of the Federal Government. It is 
 a created, audit is a supervisory power. We 
 are, step by step, concentrating and consolidat- 
 ing this power, until finally we will take the 
 last and final step, and conduct all the business 
 under the name of the 'Department of the 
 Interior.' " 
 
 Calhoun's remarks, of which I have given 
 but a small portion, made a deep impression on 
 Democratic Senators, especially Southern ones ; 
 and Webster, seeing the effect which had been 
 produced, said : 
 
 ^' The argument on the other side is merely 
 turning on a word. Why call this the Depart- 
 ment of the Interior ? The impression seems to 
 be that we are going to carry the power of the 
 Government further into the interior than we 
 
272 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 have ever done before. I do not so understand 
 it. Where is the power ? It is only that cer- 
 tain powers, heretofore exercised by certain 
 agents, are to be exercised by other agents. 
 That is the whole of it. And gentlemen say it 
 is creating a new department ; overshadowing 
 everything, swallowing up State influence, and 
 overturning all the glories of our State institu- 
 tions. I see nothing of all this. I see nothing 
 but a plain practical question. ^ - * There is 
 not a particle of this bill, not a sentence, for 
 extending the powers of the Government. It 
 is a bill for appointing a new agent, for the 
 exercise of already existing powers — nothing 
 else under heaven." 
 
 That settled the State Eights argument. 
 The bill, however, was fiercely assailed by the 
 opposing Democratic Senators ; but Webster, 
 powerfully assisted by Senator Davis, of Missis- 
 sippi, finally triumphed over all opposition, the 
 amendments of the Senate were receded from, 
 and the bill was passed by a vote of 31 to 25. 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER. 273 
 
 Soon after the passage of the Interior 
 Department bill, the hour of midnight struck, 
 and it was assumed, by a number of Senators, 
 that the session of the Senate had expired. 
 But it was suggested that it would not do to 
 adjourn until the Civil and Diplomatic Appro- 
 priation bill had been passed, inasmuch as the 
 omission to pass that bill would leave the 
 Government without funds, and compel the 
 incoming President to call an extra session of 
 Congress. This plea had no weight with the 
 very scrupulous Senators who could not think 
 of doing anything so unparliamentary as to 
 proceed with legislation after the Thirtieth Con 
 gress had, as they alleged, expired. Benton, 
 Cass, Calh(3un, and several other Senators, sat 
 silent in their seats. It was understood that 
 they were of the opinion that the session of the 
 Senate had terminated at midnight. Here was 
 certainly a very grave question, and Senators 
 did not seem to know what to do about it. At 
 last Webster arose. All eyes were fixed on 
 
274 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 him. He spoke briefly. After a few explana- 
 tory words, be said: "I am of opinion tbat 
 the session of this House, which commenced on 
 this third day of March, until we vote upon the 
 Appropriation bills, must continue without 
 regard to C-L- 0-C K-S !'' The word clocks filled 
 the Senate Cliamber with articulate thunder, 
 every reverberation of which expressed the 
 utmost scorn of the idea that the session of the 
 Senate had come to an end. It seemed as 
 though Webster had smashed the horologe of 
 Time, and that clocks should be no more. That 
 one word, as hurled forth by AVebster, seemed 
 to settle the question ; but he added a few 
 sentences to give Senators sufficient i-easons for 
 holding that the Senate was still in lawful ses- 
 sion, and would be in lawful session until it 
 should of its own motion adjourn. 
 
 A few minutes afterwards a message was 
 received from the Huuse of Eepresentatives, 
 which threatened to defeat the passage of the 
 Civil and Diplomatic Appropriation bill, to 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER. 97 k 
 
 which a portentous ameDdment, providing a 
 government for the Territories of Xew Mexico 
 and Cahfornia, had been proposed by Senator 
 Walker, of TVisconsin, on February 20th. 
 Senator Beh. of Tennessee, offered a vohiniinous 
 amendment to Mr. Walker's amendment. 
 Webster proposed another amendment as a sub- 
 stitute for both Walker's and Bell's ; and Sen- 
 ator Dayton, of Xew Jersey, offered still another 
 amendment modifying Webster's. The attempt 
 to engraft a bill for the government of Territories 
 upon an appropriation bill was looked upon by 
 many Senators as unprecedented and unparha- 
 mentary, and it led to prolonged debates. The 
 Ai)propriation bill was tinally sent back to the 
 House of Representatives, where it oi'iginated, 
 with several dozen amendments, including wbat 
 was cahed the Cahfornia amendment (the one 
 providing a government for Territories), which 
 was No. 53 on the list. The message received 
 after midnight from the House of Representa- 
 tives announced that said House had concurred 
 
276 . GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 in the 5dvd amendment of the Senate, with an 
 amendment (of their own) to that 53rd amend- 
 ment, in which they asked the concurrence of 
 the Senate ; and that they had receded from 
 their disagreement to the other amendments of 
 the Senate. 
 
 This action of the House of Eepresentatives 
 opened the door to an endless debate. Their 
 amendment to the Senate's amendment was 
 obnoxious to Southern Senators, some of whom 
 thought they saw a lurking Wilmot Proviso in 
 it. Other Senators objected in toto to the 
 foisting of a territorial bill upon an appropria- 
 tion bill, while others revived the question of J 
 the incompetency of the Senate to legislate 
 after the hour of midnight. Others offered 
 additional amendments to the existing amend- 
 ments, so that an amendment to an amendment 
 to an amendment to an amendment, running 
 back Hke "The House that Jack Built," was 
 before the Senate, with other motions piled on 
 top of motions. In the midst of the turmoil. 
 
 J 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER, 277 
 
 Senator Yulee. of Florida, made a motion to 
 adjourn sine die, but nobody paid any attention 
 to it, and the confusion increased. Senator 
 Turney, of Tennessee, who seemed to be in great 
 mental and moral distress, solemnly requested 
 that the Secretary of the Senate should be direct- 
 ed to note the hour upon the journal . This caused 
 a lull, while every Senator looked at his watch, 
 or at the Senate clock. It was then 20 minutes 
 past 2 o'clock a. m. I will now copy a few 
 lines from the record. 
 
 Mr. Webster. What is the question ? 
 
 Presiding Officer. The question is upon 
 the motion to adjourn sine die. 
 
 Mr. W^ebster. I protest against it. We 
 have no right to adjourn without the consent of 
 the other House. 
 
 A Senator. The President of the United 
 States has gone home."^ 
 
 Mr. Webster. Very well, if he chooses to 
 go ; but we shall have the pleasure of sending 
 him a bill between this and 10 o'clock to-mor- 
 
 * It was customary for a President, when there was a session 
 of Congress on the last night of his term, to occupy a commit- 
 tee room in the Capitol, where bills, as they were passed, could 
 be brought to him for his signature ; and President Polk had 
 been in attendance, in accordance with that custom. 
 
278 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 row morning. I protest against it for the sake 
 of the repubhc. 
 
 This was an effectual notice bv Webster that 
 he was going to hold on till the Appropriation 
 bill was passed, and the notice was emphasized 
 by the decision of the Presiding Officer that 
 Webster's point against adjournment was well 
 taken, and that the Senate could not adjourn 
 sine die without the consent of the House of 
 Representatives. This point having been set at 
 rest, the debate on the Appropriation bill pro- 
 ceeded. As the discussion went on, Senators got 
 excited, called one another names in a parlia- 
 mentary way, and became savage in attack and 
 venomous in retort. 
 
 Sometimes the confusion was so great that 
 speakers could not be heard, and it was impos- 
 sible for the reporters to follow the line of 
 debate through the overwhelming turmoil. 
 Senator Foote, of Mississippi, boisterously insisted 
 that the session had terminated at midnight ; 
 that Senators whose term of office expired on 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER 279 
 
 the third of March were no longer memhers of 
 the Senate and had no right to take part in the 
 proceedings ; that, in fact, the assemblage was 
 not a senate, but a public assembly, a town- 
 meeting, that was legislating without a shadow 
 of authority. He became so intolerably weari- 
 some and offensive that at last he was hissed. 
 This only caused him to talk still more volubly, 
 and finally groans were heard. "I know my 
 rights, and will maintain them, too," exclaimed 
 Senator Foote, ''in spite of all the groans that 
 may come from any quarter. Groans will have 
 no effect on me," he magniloquently declared, 
 ''even though they shall equal the thunders of 
 the most terrific volcano that ever shook the 
 eternal mountains." And on he talked, with 
 tantalising verbosity. 
 
 When things had got at their worst, and 
 everybody was utterly weary of the arid turmoil, 
 Webster arose, and ignoring all the folly and ill- 
 temper which had been exhibited, he stated the 
 legislative situation and pointed out the precise 
 
280 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 work to be done in order to accomplish what 
 ought to be accomphshed before the Senate 
 adjourned. His statement exhibited all the 
 Quintilian characteristics — lucidity, brevity and 
 credibility— in the highest degree. And there 
 was a matter-of-course air pervading it, a lofty 
 and courteous taking it for granted that every 
 member of the Senate agreed with him, which 
 was irresistibly attractive and persuasive. That 
 power of his, of which I have spoken, mani- 
 fested itself by drawing the minds of Senators 
 in the wake of his mind as a vast and power- 
 fully propelled steamer draws floating objects in 
 its wake. A parliamentary calm followed his 
 remarks, and a sensible and dignified discussion 
 of the questions at issue was begun. 
 
 I never saw, on any other occasion, such 
 power, such tact, such wisdom, such wit, such 
 humor, such dialectic skill, such profound 
 knowledge of human nature, such all-embracing 
 common sense as Webster displayed that night, d| 
 or rather, that morning. He was opposed by 
 
Daniel webster. 281 
 
 some of the ablest and most adroit debaters in 
 the Senate, and by several of the most ignorant 
 and stupid ones. The able debaters he drove out 
 of the field with the heavy artillery of his logic ; 
 the adroit ones be tripped up with superior dia- 
 lectic skill, and left them lying helpless : the 
 vain and ignorant ones be soothed into qui- 
 escence with consummate tact and laid them 
 away in beds of downy flattery to self conceit- 
 ed repose ; the pretentious and contentious ones 
 he either crushed by downright logical force, or 
 else persuasively coerced them into silence by 
 elegant sarcasm. He took interruptions with 
 imperturbable patience, with but one exception. 
 Senator Foote repeatedly asked permission of 
 him, on different occasions, "to be allowed just 
 to make a few remarks in explanation," etc. , and 
 Webster goodnaturedly gave way. But at last, 
 when the discussion was hinging on a critical 
 point, and Webster was speaking with great con- 
 ciseness and power, Foote jumped up and said, 
 " Will the Senator from Massachusetts allow me 
 
282 GREAT SENxVTORS. 
 
 to state " — '^ If the Senator will be brief," inter- 
 posed Webster. '' For God's sake be brief," he 
 added, with a volume of voice and a thunder 
 roar which swept Foote out of the debate so 
 effectually that he didn't get back into it for 
 nearly an hour. 
 
 The Senate i^epeatedly got into what seemed 
 inextricable parliamentary tangles, with mo- 
 tions piled on motions and amendments upon 
 amendments. In every such case Webster 
 would disengage the tangles with inexhaustible 
 patience and the most cheerful good humor. In 
 short, the magnificent old chieftain was so 
 good-natured, so witty, so humorous, so vast 
 and comprehensive, so terse and lucid, so high- 
 toned and majestic that he constantly inspired 
 not only good-will and friendliness, but 
 admiration and awe, and finally gained an all- 
 commanding influence over the Senate. As 
 the hours passed on, his opponents gave up 
 point after point ; the Senate's amendment to 
 the Appropriation bill was receded from, the 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER. 283 
 
 bill was passed, and the Senate adjourned at 7 
 o'clock on Sunday morning. 
 
 I recently read that entire debate, as it 
 stands defectively reported in the Congressional 
 Globe, and felt a keen regret on realizing how 
 impossible it is for people, who have only the 
 printed record of such memorable scenes, to get 
 anything approaching to an adequate idea of 
 their true character. If the sun were removed 
 from our solar system, and it were possible for 
 mankind to survive its removal, and years 
 afterwards people who never saw the sun 
 should read an account of what our system was 
 before the sun was removed, they would get 
 just about as vivid a notion of the truth as a 
 person who never saw Webster in animated, 
 vehement debate would get in reading a report 
 of that Senatorial scene, in which he was the 
 central orb, from which emanated so much of 
 its light and warmth and power and glory. 
 
284 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 Y. Other Characteristics — Webster's Incom- 
 putable Service to the Country. 
 
 It is acknowledged by every one who is 
 acquainted with the facts that Webster was as 
 preeminent in intellectual power as I have 
 represented him ; that Horace Greeley spoke 
 the truth when he said : " Webster's intellect 
 is the greatest emanation from the Almighty 
 Mind now embodied." It is also acknowl- 
 edged that Webster was somewhat lack- 
 ing in character. It is, of course, understood 
 that character does not come from intellect, but 
 from morality, virtue, benevolence, courage, 
 conscientiousness, firmness, fortitude. A man 
 may have a transcendent intellect, and yet be a 
 coward, a liar, a thief, a scoundrel of the most 
 despicable kind — 
 
 " The wisest, brightest, meanest of mankind," 
 
 as Pope wrote of Lord Bacon. Webster's firm- 
 ness, self-esteem and conscientiousness were 
 
DA:NIEL WEBSTER. 285 
 
 comparatively weak ; and this organic defect 
 was sometimes manifested in moral obtuseness 
 and infirmity of purpose. For this reason, 
 -'Webster never was and never could be a popular 
 party leader like Clay. \ In an intellectual 
 contest, no human being could contend success- 
 fully with Webster ; but when the intellectual 
 contest w^as ended, and the victory won, he 
 would lapse into indifference and suffer the 
 fruits of his victory to be snatched from him by 
 men of inferior intellect. Perhaps it was 
 fortunate that his nature was thus defective ; 
 because, if, in addition to his vast and match- 
 less intellect, he had had the imperious charac- 
 ter and indomitable will of Clay or Benton, he 
 might have become an intolerable dictator in 
 public affairs, and been too powerful and 
 predominant for his country's good. In a 
 government '' of the people, by the people, for 
 the people," the people must govern themselves, 
 and there is no room anywhere for a dictator. 
 The majority of the people of the United 
 
286 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 States little know how much they are indebted 
 to Daniel Webster. He did for us a work which, 
 in its way, was as necessary and valuable as the 
 work done for us by Washington was in its 
 
 J way. He taught the country what the true 
 nature of its government is. He logically, 
 powerfully, clearly and popularly demonstrated 
 the baneful character of the disunion and 
 secession heresy, which, started by Quincy, was 
 afterwards so destructively wrought out by 
 Calhoun. If it had not been for Webster, 
 Calhoun would have carried everything before 
 him ; there was nobody else who could cope 
 successfully with the brilliant South Carohna 
 dialectician, or with his equally brilliant coad- 
 jutor, Hayne. And if the country had become 
 convinced that the alleged right of secession 
 
 r was in very truth and fact a constitutional 
 right, and that any State might constitutionally 
 secede from the Union when it imagined itself 
 to have a sufficient provocation for doing so, 
 what would have been the inevitable result ? 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER. 287 
 
 The result would have been that the people 
 would not have fought to maintain the Union, 
 and we should now be dissevered, discordant 
 and belligerent, instead of united, fraternal and 
 prosperous, sweeping on to a destiny of incon- 
 ceivable grandeur. But Webster, having won 
 the battle for the Union in the Senate, the 
 people were ready to win, and did win the 
 battles for the Union in the field : 
 
 " Nor is it aught but just, 
 That he, who in debate of truth hath won, 
 Should win in arras, in both disputes ahke 
 Victor." 
 
 VI. An occasion when Webster w^as 
 
 ENRAGED. 
 
 In the ordinary course of legislation, Web- 
 ster did not speak often. It was only when 
 some important topic was before the Senate 
 that he condescended to mingle in the debate. 
 On one occasion he was thoroughly aroused, 
 and electrified the Senate with a terrific burst 
 of indignation. It was when a side issue on 
 
288 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 slavery was under discussion, and the debate 
 was so irritating that nearly every one who 
 took part in it lost his temper. Batler, of 
 South Carolina, (Calhoun's colleague,) became 
 very angry and indulged in a fierce and vitu- 
 perative attack on what he called the bad faith 
 of the North. He accused the Northern States 
 of breaking every compromise ever entered 
 into between them and the South as soon as 
 they could see a chance to make money by 
 breaking a compromise. He declared that this 
 bad faith had been exhibited so often on the 
 part of the North, that he had become sick of 
 the word compromise ; or, as he put it, smiting 
 himself, as he spoke, upon his bosom : " I am 
 sick at h-e a-r-r-r-t of the word compromise." 
 
 When Senator Butler sat down, Webster 
 was seen to be getting up. I use that form of 
 expression, because the getting up of Daniel Web- 
 ster was not a mere act ; it was a process. The 
 reader may have seen an elephant get up, and 
 may have been impressed with the magnitude 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER. 289 
 
 and evolutionary character of the operation. 
 Webster's getting up was vastly more impres- 
 sive, because it was intellectualized, moralized, 
 spiritualized. The beholder sav^ the most 
 wonderful head that his vision ever rested on 
 rising slowly in the air ; he saw a lionlike coun- 
 tenance, with great, deep-set, luminous eyes, 
 gazing at him with solemn majesty ; in short, 
 he saw the godlike Daniel getting on his feet, 
 and his heart thrilled at the thought of what 
 might be coming. 
 
 On the occasion to which I refer, as soon as 
 Webster arose, information of the fact was 
 circulated all through the Capitol. '' Webster's 
 up, and he's mad," was the smothered cry which 
 sounded through the corridors and ante-cham- 
 bers. That was sufficient to excite the liveliest 
 interest. The Senate chamber was immediately 
 filled by an eagerly expectant audience. After 
 Webster got upon his feet, he slowly rocked 
 himself back and forth for a few moments, with 
 his head bowed and his hands clasped behind 
 
290 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 him. Then he looked up, and around, and 
 fixed his gaze upon Butler. 
 
 " His look 
 Drew audience and attention still as night 
 Or summer's noontide air." 
 
 The suspense was intolerable. Every heart 
 stood still. Slowly unclasping his hands, and 
 letting them fall by his side, and speaking ni 
 low, deep, musical, metallic tones, surcharged 
 with intensity and power, Webster said : 
 
 " Mr. President, the honorable member from 
 South Carolina, who has just taken his seat, 
 says that he is prepared to say boldly that the 
 Northern States have not observed, but have 
 broken the compromises of the Constitution." 
 
 Mr. Butler (in his seat). " I said it." 
 
 Mr. Webster. ^'Yes, Mr. President, he 
 said it. It is no duty of mine to take up a 
 glove that is thrown to all the world ; it is no 
 duty of mine to accept a general challenge. 
 But if the honoral)le member shall see fit to be 
 so obliging as to inform the Senate, in my hear 
 
 I 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER. 291 
 
 ing, on what occasion the State, whose repre- 
 sentative I stand here, has forborne to observe 
 or has broken the compromises of the Constitu- 
 tion, he ivillfind in me a COMBATANT on that 
 question^ 
 
 Senator Mangum, of North Carohna, subse- 
 quently said that the word ' ' combatant " 
 weighed at least forty tons ; and as it fell from 
 Webster's lips, he took a step towards Butler, 
 his bronze complexion glowing as with inward 
 fire, his brow clothed with thunder, his eyes 
 blazing lightning, both arms raised, and his 
 ^ huge form towering in all its majesty. It is 
 impossible to give a description of the scene 
 which will convey any idea of the effect which 
 Webster produced. I will only say that who- 
 ever did not see Daniel Webster on that occa- 
 sion (or has not seen an equivalent spectacle) 
 cannot have any coxiception of what a magnifi- 
 cent human being God's creative hand can 
 fashion. 
 
 Butler moved uneasily in his seat, muttered 
 
29^ GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 ^^ril answer the gentleman; I'll answer the 
 gentleman," and attempted to rise. But he was 
 restrained by his friends (Calhoun among others) 
 who were near him. They did not wish to 
 provoke Webster into making one of his over- 
 whelming speeches, in favor of Massachusetts 
 and the North, at that time. They foresaw the 
 great parliamentary struggle which was coming 
 on, and under the lure of the Presidency in 
 1852, they were trying to keep Webster from 
 assuming a pronounced attitude of antagonism 
 to their wishes. So Calhoun, with an air of 
 childlike innocence, entered into the debate, and 
 with consummate adroitness turned it into a 
 cold, passionless discussion of constitutional 
 points. Webster was appeased, missed a great 
 opportunity, went on his way under the lead of 
 the subtle influences which enveloped him, 
 made his famous seventh of March speech in 
 the following year (1850) in favor of the Com- 
 promise Measures, and having been thus used 
 for their purposes by the South and its Northern 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER. 293 
 
 allies, he was contemptuously cast aside by them 
 in 1852, and died in October of that year; 
 going down to his grave under a heart-crushing 
 load of disappointed ambition and political 
 despair. 
 
 VII. Source of his Political Despair. — His 
 
 Passionate Love of the Union. — His 
 
 Incomparable Political Insight 
 
 AND Foresight. 
 
 Webster's political despair was caused by the 
 vision of future events which his vast powers of 
 comprehension and his keen and far-reaching 
 insight revealed to him. He saw clearly into 
 the governing principles of things, and he saw 
 clear to the bottom. He never mistook effects 
 for causes. He never got lost amid the chaotic 
 antagonisms of phenomena, but always struck 
 right back to the fountain heads whence the 
 streams of events flow. In his Plymouth Rock 
 Oration (1820), he indicated the dangers with 
 which the country would ultimately be threat- 
 
294: GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 ened on account of slavery, and the undue 
 growth of monopohes of wealth and power. 
 The anti -monopolists of the present day go to 
 that oration for their best ammunition, and you 
 see what Daniel Webster then said on the 
 subject (sixty-nine years ago) now printed in 
 large type in anti-monopolist newspapers. 
 
 I have said that Webster's veneration was 
 so large and active that its influence pervaded 
 his affections and imparted an elevated and 
 reverent quality to the operations of his mind. 
 It in fact pervaded all of his mental and moral 
 attributes, and was perceptible in whatever he 
 said. There was a subtle element of reverence 
 in his wit and humor, which gave them an 
 indescribable charm and power. Every one 
 who is familiar with his eloquence knows that 
 it is marked by a Hebraic, Biblical quality which 
 sometimes imparts to it unusual solemnity and 
 grandeur. So controlling was veneration in 
 Webster's character, I have no doubt that when 
 he did anything wicked he did it reverently. 
 
 11 
 
DANIEL AVEBSTER. 295 
 
 Upon his patriotism, the effect of his reverence 
 was strongly marked. He I'everenced the 
 Revolutionary Fathers, of whom his own 
 revered and beloved father was one ; he rev- 
 erenced their motives and their principles ; he 
 reverenced their patience and their fortitude ; 
 he reverenced their trials and their sufferings ; 
 he reverenced their wisdom and their virtues ; 
 he reverenced their achievements and their 
 moderation in the day of their success ; and, 
 above all, he reverenced the American Union, 
 which was the net product to the country and 
 to the human race of all their long and some- 
 times hopeless struggle. 
 
 Webster not only reverenced and loved the 
 Union with all his heart, mind, soul and 
 strength, but he understood its significance, its 
 worth, its necessity, its immeasurable import- 
 ance to its own citizens and to mankind. 
 Wherefore, Webster's patriotism was not only 
 rooted in the deepest, widest, clearest logical 
 perceptions which it is possible for a human 
 
296 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 mind to have on any subject, but it also had 
 the overruling force of a rehgious passion ; and 
 his love of country, dominating all his vievv's of 
 public policy, bound his conscience in invincible 
 devotion to the Union and to its preservation at 
 all hazards and against all contingencies. To 
 him, slavery, or any incident or phenomenon 
 connected with the legislation or institutions of 
 the coinitry, was infinitely of no consequence 
 in comparison with the preservation of the 
 Union. Only preserve the Union, and time 
 and the ultimate patriotism and good sense of 
 the people would take care of everything else. 
 Abraham Lincoln was animated by a similar 
 love for the Union and guided by similar broad 
 views as to the conditions of its preservation, 
 when, in reply to Horace Greeley's open letter, 
 addressed to him in August, 1862, he said : 
 
 *' My paramount object is to save the Union, 
 and not either to save or destroy slavery. If I 
 could save the Union without freeing any 
 slave, I would do it ; if I could save it by free- 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER. 297 
 
 ing all the slaves, I would do it ; and if I could 
 do it by freeing some and leaving others alone, 
 I would also do that." 
 
 It is vain for persons who do not understand 
 these attributes of Webster's mind, and these 
 traits of his character, to attempt to sit in judg- 
 ment upon his pohtical course. As well might 
 purblind duckhngs presume to sit in judgment 
 upon an eagle's flight. 
 
 Webster's wonderful power of analytical 
 vision, rendered prescient by his deep, intense, 
 elevating reverence, enabled him to see that the 
 compromise measures of 1850 would have but 
 temporary influence ; that the conflict between 
 slavery and freedom could not be permanently 
 pacificated ; that war between the North and 
 the South was inevitable ; and the patriotic old 
 demigod, w^ho loved his country with the very 
 religion of patriotism, was glad to take leave of 
 the scenes in which he had so long been, as 
 Benton said, " the colossal figure, bearing the 
 
298 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 constitutional ark of his country's safety upon 
 his Atlantean shoulders.'' 
 
 Events have justified Webster, and shown 
 how mistaken w^ere the hordes of abolitionists 
 who howled upon his track in 1850. I say this 
 with all the more freedom because I was one of 
 the fiercest of the howlers ; and I will add that 
 my howls were honest ones. We wei-e all as 
 conscientious as we were mistaken, and it has 
 all turned out for the best, because God can 
 make as effectual use of fools as of sages. 
 Webster spoke in 1850 with the events of 1861 
 before his vivid intellectual vision. And when 
 the crisis which he foretold came, and the 
 events which he foresaw in 1850 began to take 
 place in 1861, Seward, Chase and other alarmed 
 anti-slavery statesmen then voted in Congress 
 for measures which Webster was hounded to 
 his grave for advocating in 1850. 
 
 In the last paragraph of his renowned speech 
 in reply to Hayne (1830), when speaking of the 
 then threatened dissolution 'of the Union, 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER. 299 
 
 Webster said : " While the Union lasts, we 
 have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread 
 out before us, for us and our children. Beyond 
 that, I seek not to penetrate the veil. God 
 gi^ant, that in my day at least, that curtain may 
 not rise. God grant, that on my vision never 
 may be opened what lies beyond." His prayer 
 was granted. He did not live to see the section- 
 al and fraternal strife which he alone of all the 
 men of his time clearly foresaw and was abso- 
 lutely sure would come, unless the people of 
 the whole country would learn, and abide by, 
 and carry out in all their political relations, the 
 great truth taught by Goethe — 
 
 " Only the law can to us Freedom give." 
 
 And happily, when — to paraphrase his own 
 touching and eloquent words from that same 
 speech in reply to Hayne— his eyes were turned 
 for the last time to behold the sun in heaven, 
 their last feeble and lingering glance beheld the 
 gorgeous ensign of the Eepublic, known and 
 
300 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 honored throughout the earth, still full high 
 advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in 
 their original lustre, not a stripe erased or pol- 
 luted, no/ a single star obscured. And thanks 
 be to God, owing largely to the workings of 
 Divine Providence through the mighty mind 
 and the great, patriotic heart of Daniel Webster, 
 the gorgeous ensign of the Eepublic, v^ith many 
 bright stars added to its ample folds, now floats 
 more proudly than it floated when Webster's 
 eyes closed upon it, and it floats over a Union 
 whose enduring cohesion' has come forth tri- 
 umphant from the severest test to which any 
 nation or government could be subjected. 
 
 I have scarcely hinted at the faults of the 
 four conspicuously great men about whom I 
 have written in this little book. Of course 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER. 301 
 
 they had faults, and I intended to refer to them, 
 for the purpose of pointmg sundry morals. 
 But I find that I have not the heart to do it. 
 They have gone forward into their eternal 
 environments, '^ every one unto his own pl9.ce.'' 
 It matters not to them what commotion we 
 may raise around their memories here ; but it 
 does matter to us ; for, with what judgment we 
 judge we shall surely be judged. Those great 
 men passed their lives in the service of their 
 country. They worked for us long and well, 
 every one according to his own light. The 
 unfortunate political aberration which overtook 
 him I loved best, can now be forgiven. They 
 were sincere, honest, great- minded, large- 
 hearted patriots, and looked for their reward to 
 the increasing honor and glory of their country, 
 and not to her spoils or her plunder. While we 
 remember their services with gratitude, we can 
 look forgivingly upon their errors. And so, to 
 the accomplished Christian gentleman Calhoun, 
 
302 GREAT SENATORS. 
 
 to the tough old iron clad Benton, to the elo- 
 quent and chivalric Clay and to the godhke 
 Daniel, Benediction and Farewell. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 4 
 
INDEX. 
 
 ABOLITION WITS— Their joke about the color of political 
 babies boru into the Union, 35. 
 
 ALAMO — Sensation occasioned by its capture, 113. 
 
 ADAMS, CHARLES FRANCIS— Named as a candidate for the 
 Presidency on the Free-soil ticket, 97; nominated for 
 Vice-President, 103 ; introduces a State Rights resolution 
 in the Massachusetts Legislature, IG-i. 
 
 AMBRISTER — British emissary hung by General Jackson, 175. 
 
 ANECDOTES — Horace Greeley's home- going after the nomi- 
 nation of General Taylor, 81 ; Mayor Swift's speech at 
 the " Grand AVhig Ratification Meeting in Philadelphia," 
 84; "Damn his cabbages and turnips," 101; John P. 
 Hale's retort on Senator Foote, 128 ; Benton's acknowl- 
 edgement of Jackson's services to him, 208 ; Benton and 
 his book, 209 ; a batch of Bentonian anecdotes, 212-213; 
 one of Henry Clay's favorite anecdotes, 231 ; Tom Mar- 
 shall's anecdote, 241. 
 
 ARBUTHNOT — British emissary hung by General Jackson, 
 175. 
 
 ASTOR HOUSE— Meeting at, of Whig delegates to the 
 National Convention of 1848, 62. 
 
 BADGER, GEORGE E.— (Senator from North Carolina)— 
 Introduces a resolution to discontinue the system of 
 reporting the debates and proceedings of Congress, 136. 
 
 BARNBURNERS— One of the sections of the Democratic 
 
 [303] 
 
304 INDEX. 
 
 party in the State of New York, 43 ; partisans of Martin 
 Van Buren, 47 ; their great indignation meeting in the 
 City Hall Park, New York, 61 ; report of their delegates 
 to the Baltimore Convention, 63; David Dndley Field's 
 address, 64; great influence of the meeting, 65 ; Barn- 
 burner Convention at Utica nominates Van Buren for the 
 Presidency, but he declines, 85; thgv unite with the 
 Free-soilers in a national movement,^W and following 
 pages. — See Free-soil Convention, 93. 
 
 BENTOISr, THOMAS H.— His insulting manner towards 
 Calhoun, 151; his hatred of Calhoun, 190; Benton and 
 Calhoun contrasted, 191 ; Benton's character, 196 ; his 
 mental and physical characteristics, 197-198; his early 
 hfe, 198-199; his fight with Old Hickory, 199; removes 
 to Missouri, 199; his fights there, 200; elected U. S. 
 Senator, 200; singular personal habits, "The Roman 
 gladiators did it, sir," 201 ; his thick skin, 202 ; his 
 characteristics as a debater, 202-206; how he cut down 
 the reports of his speeches, 206; his egotism, 207; anec- 
 dotes illustrating his egotism, 208-210; other anecdotes 
 of Benton, 211-213 ; the better side of Benton's character, 
 214-216; characteristic conduct as he was dying, 217; 
 his manner of receiving strangers who were introduced to 
 him, 237-238 ; his mode of building up an argument, 
 261. 
 
 BERRIEN, JOHN McPHERSON— (Senator from Georgia)— 
 139. 
 
 BOWIE, COLONEL JAMES— Killed at the fall of the Alamo, 
 113. 
 
 BOYS— Lockport, N. Y., boys, 113 ; they form a company 
 to march down and ravage Mexico, 114. Georgia boys, 
 145-6. South Carohna boys, 168. 
 
 BRECKENRIDGE, REV. ROBERT J.— How he was " driven 
 to the Bible " by Henry Clay, 241-3. 
 
INDEX. 305 
 
 BRTNKERHOFF--Free-soiler from Ohio ; his stunning ques- 
 tion in the nominating committee of the Free-soil Conven- 
 tion, 101. 
 
 BUENA VrSTA, BATTLE OF— Intense excitement of the 
 people ; the way the news was received, 120-121. 
 
 BUTLER, ANDREW P. (Senator from South Carohna)— He 
 was sick of the word compromise, 288 ; he arouses 
 Webster's indignation, 288-9. 
 
 BUTLER, B. F.— A distinguished New York Lawyer, 92 ; a 
 pet and protege of Van Buren's, 93 ; His consummate 
 skill in managing Van Buren's canvass at the Free-soil 
 Convention, 95 and following pages ; his victorious 
 answer to Brinkerhoffs embarrassing question, 102. 
 
 CALHOUN, JOHN C— His hostility to Van Buren, 91 ; 
 opinions of Calhoun in the North, 147 ; his personal 
 appearance, 148 ; his first debate (of the Session,) 149; 
 his captivating style, 150 ; my change of feeling towards 
 him, 152 ; a New Year's call on Calhoun 152 ; his lesson 
 in phonography, 153 ; how reporters annoyed him, 153 ; 
 the State Rights doctrine from Calhoun's lips, 154-158; 
 origin of the State Rights doctrine, 158-168 ; Calhoun 
 on the education of boys, 168-170 ; his opinion of Gen- 
 eral Jackson. 171 ; his quarrel with General Jackson, and 
 its result, 172-184 ; change of opinion in the South as 
 to slavery caused by Calhoun's teaching, 183 ; his fasci- 
 nation in personal intercourse, 185 ; Harriet Martineau's 
 mistake, 180 ; Calhoun's kindness of heart and purity of 
 soul, 187 ; how his last days were enriched and sweetened, 
 188. Bennfit to me of my acquaintance with Calhoun 
 and Jefferson Davis, 188-189. 
 
 CAMBRELING, CHURCHILL C— One of the committee of 
 Barnburner delegates to report to the New York meeting 
 on the Baltimore Convention, 63. 
 
306 INDEX. 
 
 CAMERON, SIMON —(Senator from Pennsylvania) —His per- 
 sonal traits, and his style in debate, 132 ; how he brouiJ^ht 
 on the first debate of the session and what it led to, 132 
 -136 ; his friendliness to reporters, 136-7 ; his loyalty 
 to friends, and his grit, 138 ; his collision with Senator 
 Foote, 139 ; his warm but sometimes indiscreet friends, 
 140-1. 
 
 CASS, LEWIS— Nominated for the Presidency by the Demo- 
 crats in 1848, 38; his character, 45; his betrayal of Van 
 Buren, 46 ; defects as a candidate, 45-46 ; refusal to 
 take part in the proceedings of the Senate after midnight 
 of March 3, 1849, 273. 
 
 CHARACTER — Facts and principles which give a basis for 
 judging character and conduct, 192, 200, 201 ; the true 
 basis of character, 284. 
 
 CHASE, SALMON P.— President of the Free-soil National 
 Convention of 1848, 99 ; his amendment of the Free-soil 
 battle-cry, 103; feeling aroused by his anticipated election 
 as U. S. Senator from Ohio, 107. 
 
 CLAY, HENRY — The movement to prevent his nomination 
 to the Presidency in 1848, the reason for it, and the man- 
 agers of it, 41-77 ; some of Clay's distinguishing 
 characteristics, 218 ; his phenomenal popularity, and the 
 reasons for it, 218-221 ; his oratory, 222-224; the secret 
 of his unique and resistless character, 224-226; his hon- 
 esty, industry and simplicity, 226-228 ; how all this 
 added to the power of his oratory, 228-9 ; one of his 
 favorite anecdotes, 231-2 ; his chief fault in debate, and 
 his collision with Calhoun, 233; the reconciliation of 
 Clay and Calhoun. 285 ; the way in which Clay received 
 a stranger who was introduced to him, 239-40 ; Tom 
 Marshall's anecdote, 241 ; Clay's felicity in exordium, and 
 a notable example of it, 244-49: the speech that gave 
 him the Whig nomination to the Presidency in 1844, 249; 
 
INDEX. 307 
 
 a Whig poet's touching lament over his defeat, 250 ; why 
 Clay's enthusiastic admirers are reconciled to his defeat, 
 250. 
 
 CLAYTON, JOHN M.— (Senator from Delaware)— Introduces 
 (with Benton) an anti-slavery petition from the inhab- 
 itants of New Mexico, 49. 
 
 CROCKETT, COLONEL DAVID— Killed at the capture of 
 the Alamo, 113. 
 
 DALLAS, GEORGE M.— Vice-President, 205. 
 
 DAVIS, JEFFERSON— His gallantry at Buena Vista, 121, 
 
 123 : his personal appearance in 1848; his ability and 
 manner in debate, 123-4; his personal kindness to me, 
 
 124 ; his kindness to everybody, 125 ; my surviving 
 affection for him, 125 ; his powerful assistance in getting 
 the bill creating the Department of the Interior passed by 
 the Senate, 272. 
 
 DISUNION— (See State Rights.) 
 
 DODGE, HENRY (Senator from Wisconsin.) —Proposed as a 
 Cfindidate for the Presidency at the Free-soil Convention, 
 but declines, 97. 
 
 DOUGLAS, STEPHEN A.— His rank as a debater, his voice 
 and manner, 129; '* The Little Giant," but not a Httle 
 man, 129; not a taint of snobbishness about him,~130; 
 his winning manner with young men, and their fondness 
 for him, 130-31 ; lasting influence of his manner, 131. 
 
 EATON, GENERAL JOHN H.— General Jackson's friend 
 and Secretary of War, 177 ; marries the widow Timber- 
 lake, 177; singular consequences of the marriage, 178- 
 180. 
 
 EATON, MRS.-(wifeof General John H. Eaton.)— Her father 
 a tavernkeeper in W^ashington, named O'Neil, 177 ; she 
 marries Purser Timberlake, of the U. S. Navy, 177; is 
 left a widow, 177; unpleasant gossip about her, 178; 
 
308 INDEX. 
 
 marries General Eaton and becomes a Cabinet lady, 177 ; 
 horror of the other Cabinet ladies, 178; they ostracize 
 Mrs. Eaton, 178-9 ; society convulsed by an unexampled 
 social war, 179 ; General Jackson enters the lists in favor 
 of Mrs. Eaton, and is beaten by the ladies— his first and 
 only defeat, 179 ; end of the social war and retirement 
 of Mrs. Eaton, 179-80. 
 
 EDUCATION — Alexander H. Stephens on boys in Georgia, 
 144_146 ; Calhoun's theory of education, 168-9; the 
 education of South Carolina boys contrasted by Calhoun 
 with that of boys in the North, 169. 
 
 ENVIRONMENT— (See Heredity). 
 
 EWING, THOMAS— (the first Secretary of the Interior)— His 
 opinion of Alexander H. Stephens's statement with regard 
 to the mental requisitions of Georgia boys 14 years old, 
 145-146. 
 
 FANNIN, COLONEL— The massacre of him and his men, by 
 the Mexicans, at Goliad, 114. 
 
 FIELD, DAVID DUDLEY— His address at the great Barn- 
 burner meeting in the City Hall Park, New York, in 
 1848, 64. 
 
 FILLMORE, MILLARD— Nominated for Vice-President by 
 the Whig Convention of 1848, 80 ; was elected to the 
 Vice-Presidency, 106. 
 
 FOOTE, HENRY S. (Senator from Mississippi)— Threatens to 
 hang Joan P. Hale if he should go to Mississippi, 128; 
 Footers colHsion with Senator Cameron, 139; his intoler- 
 able verbosity, 278; he is hissed and groaned at in the 
 Senate, 279 ; his magniloquent response, 279 ; Webster 
 sweeps him out of the debate, 281 282. 
 
 FREE-SOIL CONVENTION, 93. 
 
 FROG, AUGUSTUS— The winning way in which Thurlow 
 Weed treated him and all his tribe, 53-54. 
 
INDEX. 309 
 
 GOVERNMENT— Calhoun's theory of the difference between 
 government and sovereignty, 154-155. 
 
 GREELEY, HORACE— His excitement and personal appear- 
 ance in the Whig National Convention of 1848, 77- his 
 bitter disappointment at Clay's defeat, " I'm going home 
 across New Jersey afoot and alone," 81-82; he hesitates 
 to support General Taylor for the Presidency, 105: but 
 his hatred of the Democrats brings him into the fight, 
 106; is nominated for Congress and goes into the contest 
 with all his energy, 106; his open letter to President 
 Lincoln in 1862, 296. 
 
 HALE, JOHN R — Nominated by Free-soilers for the Presi- 
 dency in 1847, 44 ; his popularity at the Free-soil 
 Convention in 1848, 95; his friends are out-generalled by 
 the Van Buren men, 98; Hale is the first man elected U. 
 S. Senator on a square anti slavery issue, 126; what a 
 Methodist clergyman said about him, 126; Hale's courage, 
 good-nature, wit and laziness, 127; his voice and style of 
 speaking, 127; his eftcctive retort on Senator Foote, 128. 
 
 HAMLIN, HANNIBAL— The youngest of the survivors of 
 the Senators of 1848, 141 ; his honesty, integrity and 
 geniality, 141. 
 
 HASKELL— (of Tennessee) — Delegate to the Whig National 
 Convention of 1848, 73. 
 
 HAVEMEYER, WILLIAM F.— One of the committee of 
 Barnburner delegates to report to the great meeting in 
 the City Hall Park, 63. 
 
 HEREDITY — One of the factors in the production of charac- 
 ter, and environment the other factor, 192 ; heredity can 
 be modified and directed but not elementally changed, 
 192-3; tragic story illustrating this, 198; an attempt to 
 change the heredity of a bear, and its terrible result, 
 194-5; the doctrine of heredity and environment explains 
 all. kinds of social enigmas, 195-6. 
 
310 INDEX. 
 
 HOUSTON, GENERAL SAM.— The romance which encircled 
 his name 40 years ago, and the brilliancj'^ of his early ca- 
 reer, 111 ; elected Governor of Tennessee, marries a beau- 
 tiful girl, makes a terrible discovery, resigns his office, 
 and flees from civilization, 111-12; becomes a Cherokee 
 chief: goes to Texas, defeats Santa Anna, is elected U. 
 S. Senator, 112 ; his personal appearance and style of 
 dress, 116 ; unfitted for civilization by his wild life, 117; 
 whittling was his chief occupation in the Senate, 117; he 
 was a tender-hearted old barbarian, and chivalrously de- 
 voted to women, 117-18 ; was a lonely, melancholy man, 
 118 ; a sincere lover of his country, 118. 
 
 JACKSON, ANDREW— His high-handed conduct in Florida, 
 175 ; the members of Monroe's Cabinet required to give 
 written opinions on it, 176; Calhoun gives the only 
 adverse opinion, yet Jackson gets the idea that Calhoun 
 was the only friend he had in the Cabinet, 176; Jackson's 
 gratitude to Calhoun, 176 ; Calhoun's adverse opinion 
 brought to light, 176 ; the wrath of Old Hickory, 176 ; 
 effect of the exposure on Calhoun's career, 182. 
 
 KENNEDY, JOHN A.— One of the committee of Barnburner 
 delegates, 63. 
 
 KING, THOMAS BUTLER— Delegate from Georgia to the 
 Whig National Convention of 1848, and one of the lead- 
 ers in the movement to defeat Clay and nominate General 
 Taylor, 41. 
 
 LAWRENCE, ABBOT— Why he was not put on the Whig 
 
 ticket as the candidate for Vice-President in 1848, 79 
 
 -80. 
 LINCOLN. ABRAHAM— Extract from his reply to Horace 
 
 Greeley's open letter addressed to him in August, 1862, 
 
 296. 
 
INDEX. 311 
 
 MACLAY, ROBERT H.— One of the Committee of Barn- 
 burner delegates, 63. 
 
 McLEAN, JOHN— A Justice of the U. S. Supreme Court ; 
 his interest in phonography ; a lecture on it in his parlors, 
 143 ; an interesting incident, 144-146. 
 
 McMICHAEL, MORTON— Editor of the Philadelphia North 
 American ; Horace Greeley's visit to the North American 
 office, after the nomination of General Taylor, 81 ; 
 McMicbaers solicitude as to Mayor Swift's rhetoric, 
 84. 
 
 MANGUM, WILLIE P.— (Senator from North Carolina.)— 
 His estimate of the weight of the word "combatant" 
 when Webster hurled it at Senator Butler of South Caro- 
 lina, 291. 
 
 MARSHALL, THOMAS F. —His anecdote about Henry Clay, 
 241. 
 
 MARTINEAU, HARRIET— Her singular remark about Cal- 
 houn's mind, 185. 
 
 MORRIL, MR.— A delegate from New York to the Whig 
 National Convention of 1848; he made a promise which 
 secured the nomination of Fillmore as Vice-President, 
 80. 
 
 MURPHY, DENNIS F.— Now the leading reporter in the U. 
 S. Senate ; a pupil of mine, 14 years old, in 1848 ; his 
 brilliant exhibition of fast writing at Judge McLean's, 
 143 ; what Calhoun said of him, 168. 
 
 NEWSPAPERS -National Intelligencer, 33. Albany Evening 
 Journal ; its relative influence in 1848, 51 ; New York 
 city papers : The Sun, Herald, Tribune — when they were 
 founded, and their circulation in 1848, 51-52 : The 
 Times and the World not yet born, 51. 
 
 OLD HUNKERS — One of the sections of the Democratic party 
 
312 IXBEX. 
 
 in the State of Xew York, who were charged with the 
 
 political assassination of Silas Wright, -iS. 
 O'XEIL. PEGGY— (See Eaton, 3Ir3.) 
 ORLEANS TERRITORY, XOW LOUISIAXA— Debate on its 
 
 admission to the Union as a State, 159-160. 
 
 POIXDEXTER. MR.— Calls Josiah Quincv to order, in the 
 House of Representatives, for advocating disunion senti- 
 ments, 160. 
 
 POLK, JAMES K. — In attendance at the Capitol, on the last 
 night of his term, to sign bills, 277 (Xote) ; he "goes 
 home" after the hour of midnight, 277. 
 
 POLK, TRUSTEX — Candidate for Governor of Missouri, 
 against Benton ; Benton's characterization of him, 212. 
 
 POXY EXPRESS, by which the news of the battle of Buena 
 Vista was brought to the L'nited States and carried 
 through the countrv, 121. 
 
 QUIXCY, JOSIAH — Member of Congress from Massachuetts 
 and originator of the doctrine of secession, 159-163, 
 
 QL'IXTILIAX — His " Institutes of Oratory ; " principles 
 therein laid down, 265. 
 
 RAY'^IOXD, HEXRY' J.— The "reasoning" editor of the 
 Xew York Courier and Enquirer in 1848 ; his hatred of 
 Horace Greeley, 82. 
 
 REPORTERS — The system of reporting in the U. S. Senate 
 in 1848; pay of reporters ; 135-6. What Senator Cam- 
 eron said of the reporters in the Senate, 137. 
 
 RUSK, THOMAS S.— General Houston's colleague, 116. 
 
 RUSSELL. MR. — His attempt to change the heredity of a 
 bear, and the tragical result, 193-4. 
 
 SAXTA AXXA — Defeated and captured by General Houston, 
 112. 
 
INDEX. 313 
 
 SCOTT, GEXERAL WIXFIELD— His popularity as a hero 
 of the Mexican war, 42 ; a competitor for the Whig nom- 
 ination to the Presidency in 1S4S, 72-73 ; used as a 
 "dark horse" to delude friends of Henry Clay, 78. 
 
 SECESSION.— (See State Rights). 
 
 SEWARD, WILLIAM H.— Why the people did not readily 
 perceive his intellectual greatness, 57 ; his wonderful 
 sagacity ; how he cultivated the friendship of young 
 men, 58. His use of religionists and reformers ; his mar- 
 velous instinct as to when, how. where and to whom to 
 speak on critical subjects ; his gift for formulating 
 a battle-cry; his social qualities, o 9 ; he and Thurlow 
 "Weed work together, 60 ; it is rumored that he will be 
 influential with President Taylor ; the ill-feeling caused 
 by that rumor, 108. 
 
 SMITH, TRUMAN — One of the managers of the movement 
 against Henry Clay in 1848, 41 ; his wily course in the 
 Whig National Convention, 72; he sounds the knell of 
 Clay. 76. 
 
 SOUTHERN DOMINATION— Fixed policy of the South as to 
 the admission of States into the Union, 34 : Martin Van 
 Buren's chafing under Southern leadership, 90 ; what 
 Webster said of it, 90. 
 
 SOVEREIGNTY— (See Government). 
 
 STATE RIGHTS— Calhoun's off-hand statement of the State 
 Rights doctrine, 153-15S: the State Rights, secession, or 
 disunion doctrine not a South Carolina, but a Massa- 
 chusetts heresy, 158-167; Josiah Quincy introduces it 
 into Congress, 159 ; Charles Francis Adams subsequently 
 introduces it into the Massachusetts Legislature, 163. 
 
 STEPHENS. ALEXANDER H.— (Representative from Geor- 
 gia) — His course at a lecture on phonography in Judge 
 McLean's parlors ; he says that he and other Georgia boys, 
 at the age of 14, knew the Declaration of Independence 
 
314 INDEX. 
 
 and the Constitutiou of the United States by heart, 144, 
 145. 
 SWIFT — (Mayor of Philadelphia) — He presides over the 
 "Great Whig Ratification Meeting," 83; his whimsical 
 rhetoric, 84. 
 
 TAYLOR, GENERAL ZACHARY— Hero of the Mexican war; 
 popular with the people but not with the politicians, 42 ; 
 William H. Seward and Thurlow Weed see that his 
 nomination is necessary to save the Whig party from 
 defeat, 48-49; Taylor is nominated, 77; and elected, 107. 
 
 TILDEN, SAMUEL J.— One of the committee of Barnburner 
 delegates, 63. 
 
 TRAVIS, COLONEL— Massacred at the capture of the Alamo, 
 113. 
 
 VAN BUREN, MARTIN— Van Buren a greater and better 
 man than he was supposed to be, 86 ; he and Clay at a 
 Wistar party in Philadelphia, 86 ; the two great rivals 
 contrasted, 86-87; analysis of Van Buren's character 
 88-89 ; his disrelish of Southera leadership, and his 
 desire to avenge himself on General Cass and the Demo- 
 cratic Party, 89-92 ; his letter to the Free-soil Convention, 
 95 ; he is nominated for the Presidency by the Free-soil 
 Convention and accepts, 103-104. 
 
 WALKER, ISAAC P.— (Senator from Wisconsin)— Proposes 
 an amendment, providing a government for California, to 
 the Civil and Diplomatic Appropriation bill, 275, 
 
 WALKER, ROBERT J.— (Secretary of the Treasury in Polk's 
 Cabinet). — Drafts the bill establishing the Interior 
 Department, 269. 
 
 WEBB, JAMES WATSON— His excitement and appearance 
 at the Whig National Convention of 1848, 77. 
 
 ff 
 
 4 
 
INDEX. 315 
 
 WEBSTER, DANIEL— He is a competitor for the Whig nom- 
 ination to the Presidency in 1848, 71-3; his characteriz- 
 ation of Southern policy, 90 ; his dissatisfaction with the 
 nomination of General Taylor ; finally makes a speech in 
 favor of the Whig ticket, 109 ; his cold manner of receiv- 
 ing strangers, 238. The godlike Daniel — his greatness, 
 his personal appearance, 251-255 ; Webster's first appear- 
 ance (of the session) in the Senate; the way he was 
 received, 255-7; description in Paradise Lost that 
 exactly fitted him, 258. Webster's mental make-up; the 
 wonderful characteristics of his mind ; his power, his 
 subtlety, his comprehensiveness, the clearness of his men- 
 tal vision, his common sense, his eloquence, his oratory, 
 258-297. Webster as a parliamentary leader ; the all- 
 night debate on March 3, 1849 : exciting scenes ; 
 AVebster's tact, power, mastery and triumph, 267-283. 
 Other traits of Webster's character; his incomputable ser- 
 vice to the country, 284 to 287. An occasion when 
 Webster was enrag^ed : Senator Butler of South .Carolina 
 rouses him up; his terrific burst of indignation, 287- 
 292. His political despair, and the reason of it, 293 ; his 
 passionate love of the Union ; the effect of his unequalled 
 veneration upon his patriotism ; his supreme solicitude 
 was to have the Union preserved; his touching and 
 patriotic prayer answered, 293-300. 
 
 WEED, THURLOW— Chief manager of the movement to 
 defeat Clay and nominate General Taylor, in 1848, 41. 
 The secret of Weed's political power — how he gained his 
 power, and the way he kept it, 50-57. His consummately 
 skillful management in getting General Taylor nominated, 
 , 60-77 ; and in securing his election to the Presidency, 
 85-107. 
 
 WESTCOTT, J. D. JR. — (Senator from Florida)— He is 
 rebuked by Colonel Benton, 204. 
 
316 INDEX. 
 
 WILMOT, DAVID — (Representative from Pennsylvania) — In- 
 troduces an amendment to the three-million bill, which 
 becomes famous as the Wilmot Proviso, 36 ; the 
 unexampled excitement caused by the "VVilmot Proviso, 
 36-38. 
 
 WRIGHT, SILAS— One of the most noted men of his time ; 
 Van Buren's intimate friend ; his nlle*5^ed political assas- 
 sination by the Old Hunkers, and the wrath of the Barn- 
 burners thereat, 47-8. 
 
 END. 
 
 I 
 
WHAT LEALIITG HEWSPAPEES SAY ABOUT 
 
 THE NEW YORK LEDGER. 
 
 ♦ ♦» 
 
 [FROM THE NEW YORK MAIL AND EXPRESS.] 
 
 Under the energetic and capabli? maniigcnient of Mr. Bonner's Sons, his 
 great family paper, the New York Ledger, is lu.iliing long s^trides forward ; 
 and brilliant as its past has been, the future hids fair to surpass it. Mr. 
 Honner was indeed fortunate, not only in founding a great and l)eneficent 
 literary enterprise, but in leaving descendents who are fully cajjable of car- 
 rying out successfully even larger plans than the founder proposed. 
 
 [FROM THE PHILADELPHIA LEDGER.] 
 
 The New York Ledger has successfully maintained its popularity in 
 despite of that rivalry which its own great merits provoked. Instead of a 
 mere story i)ui)er, the Ledger is so broadened as to make it achronicle of the 
 most sentient thought of the time ; it educates as well us entertains. It is 
 none the less a story ])aper, and its stories are good stories ; neither is it any 
 the less a paper which readers of the widest culture may read with profit and 
 l)ieasure. 
 
 [FROM THE BOSTON EVENING JOURNAL.] 
 
 Robert Bonner's Sons are determined to bear the mantle which has fallen 
 on their shoulders beyond any mark yet reached. As a popular story paper, 
 the I^edger has made its chief reputation, but ithas much enhanced this by 
 enlisting in its service the pens of men whose words have touched the varied 
 keys of the human heart. 
 
 [FROM THE BROOKLYN STANDARD UNION.] 
 
 Robert Bonner's Sons have taken hold of the Ledger with an energy that- 
 IB refreshing. The father worked eighti en l.ours a ciay to establish his pul)- 
 iicalion ; the sons are working night and day to make a success that will 
 eclipse all their fatlier's efforts; they have started in the right way; first, 
 they are determined to keep np the Ledger's standard of purity, and, second, 
 they are determined to employ the brightest pens to be found in the fields of 
 whoksonie literature at home and abroad. 
 
 [FROM THE CLEVELAND PLAINDEALER.] 
 
 The contributors to the Ledger include the most notable writers in the 
 field of history, science, itiography, i)oetry, litirature. and all that relates to 
 the educational interests and the social and domestic well-being of the peo- 
 ple. The Ledger is suited to the wants of all, old and young, and is dis- 
 tinctively the family literary paper of the country. 
 
[FROM THE ALBANY EXPRESS.] 
 
 Among the illustrated weekl}- papers, none has reached and maintained a 
 higher standard of uniform excellence than the New York Ledger. The 
 Ledger is firmly fixed in the confidence and the affections of the American 
 people. 
 
 [FROM THE NEW YORK SUN-] 
 
 This week's ies.ie of that interesting and entertaining family paper, the 
 New York Ledger, has been ihsued under a ntw foru). and presents a very 
 pleasing appearance. Theie are several new featuies to the pai)er. The 
 Ledger \n anew dress will naturally be a surprise, but the improvement is 
 so marked that the surprise is very satisfactory. 
 
 [FROM THE PITTSBURG POST.] 
 
 The New York Ledger has never had a rival m its special field, and the 
 enterprise and sagacity with which it is now conducted indicates that it does 
 not in the future intend to invite one or put up with one. 
 
 [FROM THE PHILADELPHIA EVENING CALL.] 
 
 The New York Ledger has ever been, in the best sense of the name, a 
 " Family Paper." It has been a welcome visitor in the best homes of the 
 land. Never an impure word nor a suggestion that was not ennobling has 
 appeared in its columns; clergymen and historians, as well as novelists and 
 poets, have been its constant contributors. Robeit BonnerV Sons are i)rov- 
 ing themselves worthy of their father, which, is saying mucli, and there can 
 i^e no doubt that their success will be greater. 
 
 &■ 
 
 [FROM THE JERSEY CITY JOURNAL.] 
 
 Robert Bonner's Sons have taken hold of the LedgerhkeoM journalists, 
 and are following the excellent example set by their father. The Ledger 
 has always been a clean, pure family paper, and has employed the best 
 talent in the world. Mr. Bonner's sons propose to k» ep up this policy, ar.d 
 every lover of pure literature must wish them success. 
 
 [FROM THE SHERMAN (TEX.) COURIER.] 
 
 The New York Ledger is the greatest of story papers. 
 
 [FROM THE NEW YORK STAR.] 
 
 A new era is marked in Robrrt Bonner's Sons success, the New York 
 Ledger. A few weeks past its patrons were more than pleased with the 
 announcement that Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett, at an enormous expense, 
 'had been engaged to supply the Ledger with a serial. Close on to thi.s 
 announcement its publishers give its" readers a delightful surpiise by an 
 issue this week having little of the appearance of its former issu( s. The 
 mechanical features are most important, for therein lies the great change. 
 
 [FROM THE HARTFORD (CT) TIMES.] 
 
 The New York Ledger of this week will be a surprise to its readers. The 
 improvements add vastly to the results of what we have always regarded as 
 the best, cleanest and most wholesome family story junpt r in the country. 
 
 [FROM THE NORRISTOWN (PA.) WEEKLY HERALD.] 
 
 The New York Ledger has always been the handsomest and best of the 
 family story papers, and it is now more so than ever. 
 
<? 
 
 .0 
 
 o.^ 
 
 z 
 o 
 
 <!^^ 
 -T^ 
 
 r\ 
 
 .0 
 
 I- 
 
 .A^' 
 
^'^ 
 
 
 ^A c^ 
 
 .0 o 
 
 V 
 
 
 
 A 
 
 
 ,^'.0^ 
 
 
 
 d. 
 
 . \ 
 
 -i^^ 
 
 
 /■ C 
 
 /I ' , 
 
 // 
 
 ^ 
 
 -^,# '* 
 
 
 ^^ 
 
 \ 
 
 
 ..V 
 
 
 % 
 
 ■x^^' 
 
 ^'! 
 
 ^/. i <. t,s 
 
 
 v^ ^^. 
 
 n 
 
 H ' 
 
 v^ ,V~ 
 
 
 cp^.v:-^'^^'^. 
 
 o\'^-^^ x^ 
 
 .<^ 
 
 
 ■^ 
 
 ,^\^ 
 
 
 \ 
 
 (A- 
 
 
 
 ■D 
 
 \ 
 
 
 \^ 
 
 
 
 '? 
 
 ^V-- 
 
 
 
 
 ^ ,G^^' 
 
 s .> 
 
 ■^ 
 
 K' 
 
 -4^ 
 
 0' s 
 
 ,A^ 
 
 V> 
 
 
 . -V 
 
 "^ '- „ 
 
 ^.^' 
 
 .-iv- 
 
 oX 
 
 ,,^ 
 
 s 
 
 A^' 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 
 
 •N 
 
 o 
 
 V 
 
 >../- -^ 
 
 -7=- 
 
 ,\ 
 
 rf. '-f':/,/'/ 
 
 ■^OO 
 
 ^^•^ ^* 
 
 s a- 
 
 
 %\:^ 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 ,^ 
 
 \ 
 
 .0- 
 
 .0^ 
 
 %^'^ 
 
 
 
 **■ ■> 
 
 ^ t 
 
 
 
 
 A^^' "^^ 
 
 •J- .<; 
 
 ^' 
 
 
 -^ 
 
 ..x^ 
 
 A 
 
 
 •t^^ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 ^. 
 
 7;^ ^ -A > 
 
 11 v 
 
 C' 
 
 ^^" 't 
 
 [^. 
 
 si/' o 
 
 x^^^ 
 
 %. «" .0 M ^ ^^^ 
 
 
 ^ >. 
 
 
 ,\' 
 
 
 L'X 
 
 -^- 
 

 
 
 •%• 
 
 ,0 <' ^o^x"** A o 
 
 
 
 ,^V 
 
 ». 
 
 v*^ 
 
 i-r. 
 
 
 v"-. 
 
 y- 
 
 ^0^ 
 
 
 y 
 
 A. 
 
 
 
 r^A^ 
 
 '•?. 
 
 '•^A 
 
 ^ ■ 
 
 
 kO 
 
 ^r. 
 
 
 
 
 aX^' 
 
 
 
 o5 
 
 
 
 
 ^r.