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 The Presidency 
 
LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 
 AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 
 STEWART S. HOWE 
 
 JOURNALISM CLASS OF 1928 
 
 STEWART S. HOWE FOUNDATION 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/alsoransgreatmenOOseit 
 
THE "ALSO RANS' 
 
SPORTS TO COME OFF AT THE CAPITOL-CUMBING THE GREASED POLE. 
 
 COMPETITORS :. 
 
 ROUGH AND READY.— Winner of the Buena Vista stakes, Backed bg Mr, Yaitkxk Doodl*. 
 
 GENERAL SCOTT.— Winner of Sastx As ha' s .dinner at Cerro Gordo. 
 THE THANE OF CHQWDER.-Fwt, unknown. 
 THE MILL BOY OF THJE SLASHES, do. do. 
 
 THE "ALSO RANS" OF YESTERDAY 
 
 An exceedingly humorous cartoon showing Taylor, Scott, Clay and others scrambling 
 up to seize Polk's "britches." From Yankee Doodle, May 29, 1847 
 
THE "ALSO RANS 
 
 99 
 
 GREAT MEN WHO MISSED MAKING 
 THE PRESIDENTIAL GOAL 
 
 BY 
 DON C. SEITZ 
 
 ," "hoi 
 
 greeley," etc. 
 
 WITH EIGHTEEN PORTRAITS AND 
 FOURTEEN CARTOONS 
 
 THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS - - - NEW YORK 
 
Copyright, 1928 
 By THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY 
 
 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 
 

 Q To 
 
 to 
 
 COLONEL E. M. HOUSE 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 Some one has wisely said that wherever there is 
 victory there must be defeat. In politics as in battle, 
 mischance often plays a greater part than leadership. 
 Great men who aspired to fill the highest office in the 
 world, the Presidency of the United States, have more 
 than once met Waterloos either in convention or at 
 the polls at the hands of their inferiors. Of the 
 eighteen outstanding figures I have selected as "Also 
 Rans," fifteen failed to get enough votes. Three never 
 really reached the people. These last were the most 
 eminent of all. 
 
 Written at the beginning of another Presidential 
 campaign this volume is a retrospect of American 
 politics on the losing side. I have stopped with William 
 Jennings Bryan, and only allude to Alton B. Parker, 
 the single interlude in Mr. Bryan's twelve year domina- 
 tion of the Democracy. The defeated candidates since 
 then, Charles E. Hughes, James M. Cox, and John W. 
 Davis, still flourish as able and interesting citizens, 
 each continuing to make his own place in the affairs 
 of the nation. It has not been deemed seemly to re- 
 exhibit them in their retirement from party leadership. 
 
 D. C. S, 
 February, 1928 
 
 vu 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Introduction : Our Presidents 
 
 CHAPTER 
 I 
 
 Aaron Burr (1756-1836) .... 
 
 
 II 
 
 William H. Crawford (1 772-1 834) . 
 
 
 III 
 
 John C. Calhoun (1 782-1 850) . . 
 
 
 IV 
 
 Henry Clay (1 777-1 852) . w -• • 
 
 
 V 
 
 Lewis Cass (1 782-1866) .... 
 
 
 VI 
 
 Daniel Webster ( 1 782-1852) . . 
 
 
 VII 
 
 Winfield Scott (1 786-1 866) . . . t 
 
 • 
 
 VIII 
 
 John C. Fremont (181 3-1 890) 
 
 
 IX 
 
 Stephen A. Douglas (1813-1861) . r 
 
 • 
 
 X 
 
 William H. Seward (1801-1872) 
 
 
 XI 
 
 George B. McClellan (1 826-1 885) . 
 
 
 XII 
 
 Horatio Seymour (1810-1886) 
 
 
 XIII 
 
 Horace Greeley (1811-1872) 
 
 
 XIV 
 
 Samuel J. Tilden (1814-1886) . 
 
 
 XV 
 
 Winfield Scott Hancock (1824-1886) 
 
 
 XVI 
 
 James G. Blaine (1 830-1 893) . • 
 
 
 XVII 
 
 Benjamin F. Butler (181 8-1893) . 
 
 
 XVIII 
 
 William Jennings Bryan (1 860-1 925) 
 Index . 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 xi 
 
 1 
 38 
 53 
 77 
 95 
 no 
 125 
 
 144 
 167 
 192 
 208 
 228 
 242 
 
 255 
 270 
 282 
 298 
 320 
 339 
 
 ix 
 
OUR PRESIDENTS 
 
 MEASURED by the requirements of a gov- 
 ernment for the people, by the people, in 
 the general public interest, how many of the 
 men who have been elected President of the United 
 States have measured up to the standard? 
 
 In the beginning of the republic it was not intended 
 that the people should elect their chief magistrate. 
 They were to select members of an electoral college, 
 the groups of which were to meet in their several 
 States and solemnly pick out a perfect President. Quite 
 naturally, George Washington was the first to be 
 chosen. He could readily have made himself Dictator, 
 or Emperor, had he so desired. His chief anxiety was 
 to hold the discordant thirteen together. They showed 
 alarming signs of falling apart, and the Constitution 
 was not fully ratified for many months. Indeed two 
 armed rebellions broke out during his regime. 
 
 In a new government it was not possible to produce 
 perfection. It had trouble enough to exist. Scandals 
 were plentiful and factional discord became most ran- 
 corous. The Secretary of the Treasury, Alexander 
 Hamilton, who had no belief in popular rule, was tied 
 up with Thomas Jefferson, who was whole-heartedly 
 devoted to it. Hamilton became involved in a scandal 
 with a woman whose husband peddled "influence," 
 and the Secretary was compelled to make a public con- 
 
 xi 
 
xii Our Presidents 
 
 fession, quite as frank as anything ever disclosed by 
 Jean Jacques Rousseau, to save his political repute. 
 
 Such was the burden of his office that Washington 
 was glad to lay it down at the end of his second term 
 to devote himself to agriculture at Mount Vernon. 
 His fame was not helped by his Administration, but 
 his services were so great and his character so exalted, 
 that no one can question his title to immortality, — 
 but not as a President. 
 
 John Adams, who succeeded him, was of the coldest 
 New England type. A true history of his Administra- 
 tion was so vicious in its revelations that it was sup- 
 pressed. Scandalous in detail, it probably was not 
 wholly deserved. Yet little can be found in the record 
 of Adams as President to prove that he even nearly 
 approximated the ideals. Of course, Thomas Jefferson, 
 with his notion of popular government, was a mischief- 
 maker and bedeviled Adams as much as he could. Yet 
 each died on the fiftieth anniversary of the Declaration 
 of Independence, revering the other. 
 
 Of Jefferson it can be said that he was more con- 
 cerned with enforcing his views than managing the af- 
 fairs of government. He bought Louisiana and the 
 Northwest from Napoleon and so saved us the neces- 
 sity of stealing it in later years. This was a master- 
 piece of foresight, though Bonaparte pressed the 
 bargain as a step against the further growth of the 
 British Empire. Jefferson's "embargo" brought great 
 calamity upon our seaboard and his policy toward the 
 Army and Navy left the country naked to the winds. 
 
 With all his "democracy" he made James Madison 
 his successor, and Madison produced the War of 1812 
 
Our Presidents xiii 
 
 which almost caused a secession of the New England 
 States. James Monroe, who came after, remains fa- 
 mous as the inventor of a doctrine that has more than 
 once threatened our peace, and has for over a century 
 been a source of offense to the South American repub- 
 lics. Briefly interpreted, under its enforcement, the 
 United States will permit no one to "lick" our neigh- 
 bors but ourselves. 
 
 John Quincy Adams followed. Up to and including 
 his day the Presidents and the Government had been 
 aristocratic. Now came Andrew Jackson of Tennes- 
 see, to demand that the People enter the White House. 
 He led Adams on the electoral vote, but a discrimi- 
 nating Congress to whose hands fell the choice, shut 
 the door of the pallid palace in his face. Adams's ad- 
 ministration was one of discord and turmoil that did 
 no good to the land. The United States Bank fastened 
 itself upon the country, and New England Whiggery 
 had its way, but not without Congressional conflicts 
 that embittered men and distressed the country. 
 
 At the next election Jackson triumphed, and also 
 in the next. The Electoral College became a rubber 
 stamp, and the People entered the White House wear- 
 ing their muddy boots and spitting on the carpet. The 
 victors got the spoils. A woman upset Jackson's Cab- 
 inet, and South Carolina came near to seceding. A 
 warship kept Charleston under its guns until the State 
 cooled off. "The Union must be preserved" said "Old 
 Hickory" and he meant it. But his Administration of 
 eight years was a battle, — not a government. 
 
 Like Jefferson, Jackson provided a successor to him- 
 self in the person of Martin Van Buren, smooth, sly, 
 
xiv Our Presidents 
 
 and "foxy." He, too, played politics, and administra- 
 tion went to the dogs, — indeed, it could not be said to 
 have been established. He failed to succeed himself. 
 The Whigs selected William Henry Harrison on his 
 repute as the "hero" of Tippecanoe, where with a large 
 body of troops he defeated a small body of Indians 
 under a much abler man, Elskawata, "Prophet" of 
 the Shawnees. His stay in office was but one month. 
 Pompous and ill-informed, he had no idea of affairs 
 and saved his fame by dying. John Tyler of Virginia 
 then became the first Vice-President to fill the chief 
 chair. Tyler arranged the annexation of Texas as a sop 
 to the cotton growing slaveholders and laid the 
 foundations of the unjust Mexican War. His suc- 
 cessor, James K. Polk, put that conflict over with 
 no justification that any historian could ever dis- 
 cover, but it gave us a fat slice of sage brush, 
 California, and a continued serial of international 
 complications, plus added power to the slave own- 
 ers. His Administration was super-political and gave 
 way to one of the heroes created by the war, Za- 
 chary Taylor, "Old Rough and Ready." He lived 
 only a few months after taking office. A dish of 
 cherries and milk brought on a colic from which he did 
 not recover and Vice-President Millard Fillmore of 
 Buffalo, New York, filled his place. Fillmore continues 
 to be rated as a nonentity. He sent Commodore Mat- 
 thew Calbraith Perry to Japan, whereby under the 
 next Administration, that of Franklin Pierce, the Mi- 
 kado's Empire became open to the world, though as 
 Mr. Dooley accurately described it: "We didn't go 
 in; they kim out" They did indeed, and to-day have 
 
Our Presidents xv 
 
 become one of the New World's greatest anxieties. 
 The Japanese alone remain grateful for the exploit. 
 
 The election of Pierce in 1852 was another echo of 
 the Mexican War, in which he had served as a volun- 
 teer general. The Democrats wanted a Northern man 
 who would satisfy the slaveholders, and Pierce filled 
 the bill. He signed the repeal of the Missouri Com- 
 promise and that set Kansas to bleeding. Pierce was 
 a friend of Nathaniel Hawthorne and the best thing 
 he did while in office was to make the author Consul at 
 Liverpool when the fees were corpulent. Jefferson 
 Davis was Pierce's Secretary of War, and the South 
 dominated his Administration. The country seemed 
 safe, however, and the Democrats continued their rule 
 by electing James Buchanan of Pennsylvania in 1856. 
 
 Buchanan was a swallow-tail. He had been Minis- 
 ter to England and had held a Cabinet place. His pic- 
 tures show a fine old gentleman, much given to observ- 
 ing proprieties and nothing else. History is very hard 
 upon him. Secession began while he was in office and 
 he dealt with it feebly. Yet to study the times it is diffi- 
 cult to determine what he could or should have done. 
 He meant well to both sides, but did not know how to 
 handle either. The rise of the Republican party from 
 the mixed elements of Free Soil, Know Nothing, and 
 faded Whig elements was really a revolution. Order 
 had ceased in American politics and chaos had come. 
 
 Yet the defeat of Democracy which produced the 
 Civil War was not due to the new party's strength, 
 Imt to Democratic dissensions. A solid Democracy 
 would have defeated the rail-splitter. But out of the 
 welter Abraham Lincoln was elected, and the crum- 
 
xvi Our Presidents 
 
 bling of the Union began. Lincoln has become one of 
 the immortals whose fame as a wise, just, and merciful 
 man cannot be assailed, yet he led a party into office 
 that was more aggressive for spoils and far less repre- 
 sentative than the "People" of Andrew Jackson. 
 
 It is one of the cruel consequences of "party" gov- 
 ernment that success at the polls is more important 
 than care for the public interest. This bedevils the best 
 meaning of a President and makes his position one of 
 the utmost difficulty. He must choose between party 
 and people. It is not possible, in its very nature, for 
 a party to represent the people; it represents its ma- 
 chinery. 
 
 This then was Lincoln's peril. He was saved from 
 conflict with the people by the war which broke out 
 when he had been but five weeks in office. He had no 
 chance to show qualities of amelioration or deal in di- 
 plomacy. That he was a consummate politician goes 
 without saying. That he became a martyr obscures this 
 fact in popular memory. He was surrounded by poli- 
 ticians and spoilsmen of the most rapacious sort. His 
 Cabinet was a conspiracy against him. Could he have 
 enforced in it such submission as Woodrow Wilson ef- 
 fected in 19 1 7-1 8, the war between the States would 
 not have run half the course it did. He was bullied by 
 Stanton, betrayed by Chase, and much perplexed by 
 William H. Seward. Welles was a Democrat, and his 
 only friend, but a political liability, not an asset, be- 
 cause of his faith. Of Stanton little need be said. He 
 lives as a great Secretary of War, tireless and faith- 
 ful. It would be easy to prove that he was something 
 quite different. His effort to become a despot after 
 
Our Presidents xvii 
 
 Lincoln's death led to the attempt to impeach the luck- 
 less Johnson. Lincoln could not live up to the civil re- 
 quirements of his office because of the war, and his use 
 of the great powers invested in him is mainly a record 
 of incompetence and disaster. The North won, not 
 the Government. Lincoln's fame remains, measured by 
 emotion. Had he survived his second term it would 
 have been established by facts. 
 
 Of Andrew Johnson it is impossible to speak fairly, 
 for the poor man never had a chance. He was an ine- 
 briated Daniel in a political lion's den, with Zach 
 Chandler, Thad. Stevens, and Ben Wade as the chief 
 roarers. Three more unprincipled politicians never sat 
 in seats of power. They beat down Johnson's hands, 
 although he had been Lincoln's own choice. 
 
 No greater mistake was ever made than the choice 
 of U. S. Grant for President. He was taken on the 
 strength of his name to keep the party in power, yet 
 it led to a great revolt that would have succeeded but 
 for the selection of Horace Greeley to lead the oppos- 
 ing hosts. So we had eight years of scandal and dis- 
 grace at Washington. Grant was President in name; 
 Roscoe Conkling the ruler, with lovely Kate Chase 
 Sprague as his overriding influence. Politically, no rec- 
 ord could have been worse. The public interest was ig- 
 nored by the Washington cabals, and Grant, with all 
 his noble qualities, remains the most incompetent of 
 Presidents, gauged by the proper standard. 
 
 Now comes a paradox. The man who succeeded 
 Grant, Rutherford B. Hayes of Ohio, was not elected. 
 An electoral commission dominated by Conkling gave 
 him the decision over Samuel J. Tilden. Bitterly as- 
 
xviii Our Presidents 
 
 sailed, with "fraud" stamped on his brow, Hayes 
 gave us a truly honorable and proper Administration. 
 He sustained the Constitution and saw that the laws 
 were observed, which are the President's chief duties 
 in time of peace. He ceased to surround the ballot 
 boxes in the South with bayonets. He removed the 
 garrisons and with them "carpet bag" governments. 
 He gave the South a chance to live. He inaugurated 
 civil service, and the U. S. dollar became worth one 
 hundred cents by the resumption of specie payments 
 during his stay in office. There were no scandals. Po- 
 litical vermin vanished from Washington. People 
 sneered at his simple life. William M. Evarts, his chief 
 adviser, observed that "water flowed like champagne" 
 at White House dinners. Mrs. Hayes was a W. C. T. 
 U. Now that Volstead rules the land this joke seems 
 far-fetched. Champagne! What is it? 
 
 But Hayes was not ruled by Conkling. That turkey 
 cock's sun set with Grant's going. When Garfield was 
 elected Conkling sought to reassert his power. The 
 bullet of an assassin ended the quarrel, — and Conk- 
 ling, as a political factor. What Garfield might have 
 been is beyond speculation. His death, however, gave 
 the United States a good President in Chester Alan 
 Arthur. He had been put on the ticket to placate Conk- 
 ling and when he came into office Conkling was out by 
 his own action in resigning from the Senate in search 
 of a "vindication," which the New York State Legis- 
 lature refused to give him. As a result, perhaps, Ar- 
 thur's Administration was orderly, gentlemanly, and 
 just; he, after Hayes, being the only President to keep 
 his place, while champagne again flowed in the White 
 
Our Presidents xix 
 
 House and the cooking was much improved. Mr. Ar- 
 thur was a connoisseur in canvasback and terrapin. 
 
 In considering Grover Cleveland, the first Demo- 
 crat to take office after the war, much allowance must 
 be made for the state of mind that selected him. Conk- 
 ling had met with a prodigious defeat in New York 
 when he attempted to make Charles J. Folger gover- 
 nor. Cleveland was elected. Logically he became the 
 Presidential nominee of his party. He was at once 
 called bigger than his party and, as a result, provoked 
 some pretty rows. He went beyond the province of 
 his office, said some epigrammatic things, and was 
 defeated for re-election by Benjamin Harrison of 
 Indiana. 
 
 Harrison came near to being a model President. 
 He was a small man with a waxen face who said little 
 and worked hard, — a grandson of the William Henry 
 who defeated Elskawata. One of his English ancestors, 
 a butcher by trade, lost his head by voting to amputate 
 that of Charles the First. He was not the least bit 
 popular with either people or politicians. He refused 
 to be swayed by one or ruled by the other, nor did he 
 try to run the Government uphill. Rated by the re- 
 quirements he stands nearly ioo per cent, to the good. 
 Quite naturally he was defeated for re-election. 
 
 Cleveland ran again in 1892 and came back, thanks 
 to a populist tip-over in the West which gave James 
 B. Weaver twenty-two electoral votes. His second term 
 was one of trouble. The party did not obey his request 
 to revise the tariff on a revenue basis, and he let the 
 Wilson bill become a law without his signature. His 
 Secretary of the Treasury dealt with Wall Street in 
 
xx Our Presidents 
 
 filling its coffers with gold needed to keep its credit 
 sweet until forced by a newspaper, the "World," to 
 trust the people. He did it with a growl. 
 
 Seeking an issue that would disconcert him, the Re- 
 publican press and leaders seized upon a boundary dis- 
 pute between Great Britain and Venezuela to rattle 
 his nerves, — and succeeded. To upset his enemies he 
 challenged England to mortal combat and laid the 
 train for a world war. The old lady was too sensible 
 to accept the challenge, but he gave the nation a scare 
 that wrecked the Stock Exchange for a period. The 
 opposition was properly rebuked, but it is hard to see 
 how he "served" the people. 
 
 Cleveland's strenuous term was followed by the 
 Administration of William McKinley, nominated by 
 Mark Hanna after John Sherman had been betrayed 
 by the Ohio delegation. It has always been held to 
 McKinley's shame that he was under Hanna's thumb. 
 This was not true. Hanna had a curious reverence for 
 him, — curious and unusual in that he was a strong 
 soul. McKinley was not. He was urbane and politic. 
 In short, a nice man. Yet Hanna was humble in his 
 presence, deferred to and was devoted to him. He 
 had fathered a tariff that laid many "implied obliga- 
 tions" on his party and was a true Ohio Republican, 
 respectable enough to do anything and get away with 
 it. The war with feeble Spain to "free" Cuba, was his 
 doing. Spain thought she was yielding, but did it "to- 
 morrow" instead of to-day. 
 
 Here again the bullet of an assassin killed a Presi- 
 dent who was improving and put a circus in the White 
 House. I once talked with James J. Hill about Theo- 
 
Our P residents xxi 
 
 dore Roosevelt, when first in the saddle, observing: 
 "Well, he wants to run everything." 
 
 "Yes," replied the Great Northern magnate, — 
 "like a baseball nine." 
 
 And so it was. The Constitution took a vacation. It 
 needed rest, perhaps, having been badly damaged dur- 
 ing Cleveland's regime by Congressman Tim Camp- 
 bell's inquiry: "What's the Constitution between 
 friends?" 
 
 Roosevelt gave it a rest. Also the House, the Sen- 
 ate, and everything except the American people. He 
 "took" Panama, decimated the Twenty-fifth Infan- 
 try, "settled" the coal strike, took E. H. Harriman's 
 money and gave him no return, meddled with every- 
 thing from childbirth to populism and had a "bully" 
 time. No one else did. The panic of 1907, the friction 
 with Japan, the dominance of labor unions and capi- 
 talism over the people at large, all date from him. 
 Worse than that, with the help of William Jennings 
 Bryan, he destroyed political opposition and made pol- 
 itics too one-sided to be interesting. Then he gave us 
 William H. Taft to keep his seat warm while he went 
 a-hunting. 
 
 Taft was long regarded as a stop-gap for Roosevelt. 
 Indeed, he did not seem to take the office seriously. He 
 traveled incessantly and when he did anything it had a 
 Rooseveltian flavor. He floundered and fell when it 
 came time to stand on his own feet. Then Roosevelt 
 wrecked the Republican party. 
 
 It cannot be said, however, that the country profited 
 by the debacle. Woodrow Wilson was the outcome. 
 Here again we had the luckless result of non-opposi- 
 
xxii Our Presidents 
 
 tion in government. Shot to pieces the Republicans for 
 the moment could provide none and Bryan had made 
 the Democrats impotent. So one-man-government con- 
 tinued. Far abler and more despotic than Roosevelt, 
 Wilson belied the name of Democrat. His Cabinet was 
 ignored, his Ambassadors left in the dark. He dealt 
 with important government matters through unofficial 
 agents, whether from mistrust or impatience, it is hard 
 to decide. He made many bad and more weak appoint- 
 ments; he took on his Secretary of the Treasury as a 
 son-in-law. The World War came out of a clear sky. 
 How did he deal with it? In three phases: 
 
 1. Too proud to fight 
 
 2. Peace without victory 
 
 3. Force without limit 
 
 He won his re-election under the first phase. The 
 people did not wish to go to war. He could not have 
 gotten a vote for a declaration out of Congress. 
 
 When the second phase developed he had been re- 
 elected. Immense scorn from Republican sources wel- 
 comed his pronouncement. Like Cleveland in the Ven- 
 ezuela affair he avenged himself by entering promptly 
 upon the third phase. He lived up to it. Under his vast 
 war powers he used "force without limit," abroad and 
 at home. He put gyves on the American people, trust- 
 ing them not for a moment. He enforced a "selective" 
 draft that "selected" everyone. He penned harmless 
 aliens up in stockades, forced the press into an atti- 
 tude of self-censoring that destroyed its usefulness and 
 its liberties, and made himself the most powerful fig- 
 ure in the world at a gross outlay of $23,000,000,000. 
 Then he invented the League of Nations, by which 
 
Our Presidents xxiii 
 
 some fifty-four are now successfully allied against the 
 United States. 
 
 Throughout all, luck stood by him until his war 
 powers ceased and he could no longer command or 
 commission. Then the people rose and, by a vast ma- 
 jority — 7,004,847 — an unheard-of figure in American 
 elections, repudiated Wilson and his policies. They 
 shook off their chains and it will be many a year before 
 they hold out their hands again for shackles. 
 
 On this mighty wave of reaction Warren G. Hard- 
 ing rode into office. He was a plump printer from 
 Marion, Ohio. Statesmen had died-out in Ohio and 
 small men with ambitious wives were pushed into 
 power. Harding, as one of these, became United 
 States Senator. Boies Penrose, boss of the Senate, saw 
 in him the kind of nonentity who would fit the reac- 
 tion. Like Mr. Artemus Ward he was "as genial a 
 feller as you ever met." Now the boys in the party had 
 been out of the crib for fifteen years. Roosevelt al- 
 lowed no one to play there but himself. Under Wil- 
 son, Republicans were at a heavy discount. With War- 
 ren G. Harding they all came back. He exerted himself 
 in no way to interfere with the orgy. Deeply disap- 
 pointed, the people at large would have rended him 
 but for his removal by death. This gave them Calvin 
 Coolidge, close, canny and careful, who cut down taxes, 
 kept "good fellows" at a distance, stuck to his job, and 
 satisfied the country as none of his predecessors were 
 able to do, but did not "choose" to continue. 
 
 In the competition for the great office, the best man 
 has not always won, nor have the greatest of our 
 statesmen reached the top. Rivalries, accidents and de- 
 
xxiv Our Presidents 
 
 sign have often changed the result from better to 
 worse. Not all of the men who wished to be President 
 should have been. Two, Henry Clay and Daniel Web- 
 ster surely deserved it. William H. Seward and Ste- 
 phen A. Douglas had real claims. Of the others — well 
 leave it to what follows. 
 
THE "ALSO RANS" 
 
 AARON BURR 
 
 THIRD VICE-PRESIDENT 
 
 THERE remains an ineradicable savor of the 
 sinister about the name of Aaron Burr, third 
 Vice-President of these United States, under 
 Thomas Jefferson. How much of his ill-repute was de- 
 served it is hard to say, for he had an overload of 
 enemies, led by Jefferson, whom he came near to de- 
 feating for the high office of President, and Alexander 
 Hamilton, whom he killed. The first was of his own 
 political party, the second, leader of its Federalist op- 
 position. Yet, in intellect he was the equal of either, in 
 social attainments and ancestry, their superior. His 
 great-great-grandmother was a sister of Sir George 
 Downing from whose house the British Empire is 
 ruled. For grandfather, he had the distinguished di- 
 vine, Jonathan Edwards, whose lovely daughter mar- 
 ried Aaron Burr, President of Princeton University, 
 to whom the institution owes its firm foundation. He 
 was half again as old as she but it was a true love 
 match. Neither lived long, and little Aaron was left 
 alone to face the world at three. The orphan was not 
 poor, and his guardian and uncle, the Rev. Timothy 
 Edwards, saw to it that he was brought up a gentle- 
 
Aaron Burr 
 
 man. Timothy Edwards was a man of consequence at 
 Elizabeth, N. J., where Aaron and his only sister, 
 Sarah, were reared, Tapping Reeve, later a distin- 
 guished Connecticut jurist, being their tutor. 
 
 The two children were near of age, Sarah having 
 been born May 3, 1754, and Aaron February 6, 1756, 
 both at Newark, N. J. The boy soon showed signs of 
 superiority and independence. He ran away from Tap- 
 ping Reeve's teachings when four years old and was 
 not caught for three days. He pelted a richly dressed 
 dame with ripe cherries, and for this was "licked like a 
 sack" by his reverend uncle. The rod was not spared 
 in the Edwards family. He ran away again at ten and 
 became a cabin boy on a ship ready to sail from New 
 York. The Reverend Timothy traced him to his task 
 and was about to collar the lad when he climbed to the 
 cross-trees, where the good man dared not follow. 
 From this safe strategic point he dictated honorable 
 terms and agreed to go back to his books. He there- 
 after displayed such diligence that he was prepared for 
 Princeton at eleven. The college would not accept one 
 so young and so small. He kept up with the courses for 
 two years and when thirteen, sought to enroll as a 
 junior classman. This was denied him, but he was ac- 
 cepted as a sophomore, though two years under the re- 
 quired age. Dr. John Witherspoon, a scion of John 
 Knox, was president and permitted the evasion. He 
 was a great man, who became one of the signers of 
 the Declaration of Independence. 
 
 For a year the boy wore himself to a shadow with 
 hard study. The examinations showed him so far in 
 the lead that he took it easy for the remaining time. 
 
Aaron Burr 
 
 Dapper in person and neat in attire, he became much 
 of a social figure. They called him dissipated, but the 
 evidence is largely his own say so. He records playing 
 one game of billiards at a tavern for money and he 
 would never play again for a stake of any sort. He ate 
 sparingly and seldom drank. Graduating with honors 
 at sixteen, he could hardly have been very dissolute — 
 especially in the Presbyterian atmosphere in which he 
 dwelt. 
 
 He wrote brilliantly and was a match for the best 
 of the faculty. A revival made him uncertain as to his 
 sinful status. Consulting Dr. Witherspoon, that wise 
 educator and sensible man told him that piety engen- 
 dered under such stress was not true religion. There is 
 no record that he was ever afterwards disturbed by 
 pious emotions. Having ample leisure, by reason of his 
 advanced intellectuality, he did odd things in college, 
 notably the study of ciphers and took to the habit of 
 writing letters to his intimates in this mystic form. 
 Naturally secretive, this custom was continued all his 
 life. Though retiring, he was not without friends in 
 college, and these endured so long as they lived. Nota- 
 ble intimates were William Patterson, who was to 
 grace the bench of the United States Supreme Court; 
 Samuel Spring, later eminent as a clergyman, and 
 Matthias Ogden, a distinguished officer in the Revo- 
 lution. 
 
 The boy was Commencement orator when he grad- 
 uated in 1772. Having no special call to take him 
 away, he remained at Princeton for some months, re- 
 viewed his studies, read much, was prominent in the 
 Clio-Sophie Society and in social affairs. In the fall of 
 
Aaron Burr 
 
 1773 he entered the family of Dr. Edward Bellamy of 
 Bethlehem, Connecticut, with some vague notion, it 
 would seem, of studying theology. He left the good 
 man in the spring of 1774, not for the pulpit, but the 
 open road, being thereafter a pronounced liberal in 
 thought. He now decided to take up law and did so 
 with his former tutor, now his brother-in-law, Tapping 
 Reeve, at Litchfield, Connecticut. 
 
 Signs of the coming revolt were visible. A Tory's 
 house was wrecked by a Litchfield mob, whose leaders 
 were put under arrest. Some effort was made to res- 
 cue them, in which Burr itched to join, but the crowd 
 was cowardly and let the minions of the law hold their 
 fellows, to the deep disgust of the law student. 
 
 Lexington and Concord followed in the early spring 
 and the lad now began his extraordinary public career. 
 It was well said by one who knew him that Burr was 
 impervious to fear. His form, though slight — he was 
 but five feet, six inches in height — was so strongly con- 
 structed that he could lift twice his weight and endure 
 extremes of fatigue. He had studied the use of arms 
 and military history. Thus, at nineteen, he went eag- 
 erly into the fray. July, 1775, found him among those 
 gathered to besiege Boston, but without assignment. 
 Learning that General Montgomery's campaign in 
 Quebec was to be reinforced by an expedition under 
 Benedict Arnold, to march through the forests of 
 Maine, he went to the rendezvous at Newburyport. 
 The troops were conveyed by sail to the mouth of the 
 Kennebec in late September, and then began a march 
 of fifty days, in chill autumn and early winter. Uncle 
 Timothy sent a messenger ordering Burr home, whom 
 
Aaron Burr 
 
 he declined to obey. He was nearly drowned in an up- 
 set. But half the force reached Quebec. There Arnold 
 set himself down to await Montgomery, picking Burr 
 as the messenger to the general at Montreal. 
 
 He performed the journey with skill, ingratiating 
 himself with the French along the way. This gave him 
 the rank of captain on Montgomery's staff. The two 
 forces now joined and Quebec was assaulted vainly in 
 a heavy storm of snow, on the night of December 31, 
 1775. Montgomery fell, and it was upon Burr's slen- 
 der shoulders that he was borne to the rear. His death 
 ended the effort, though the troops lingered until 
 spring. Reinforcements came to the British and they 
 retreated before them to Montreal. Burr, who had be- 
 come a major, had no use for Arnold, whom he re- 
 garded as brave under excitement, but possessing no 
 moral courage or self-respect. 
 
 He now retired from the staff, refusing to obey Ar- 
 nold's request that he remain. Reaching Albany, he 
 found his fame had gone before, and that there was 
 an opening for him with the commander-in-chief. He 
 joined Washington's military family at New York, 
 May, 1776, and made himself at home in the fine man- 
 sion used as headquarters on Richmond Hill. Six weeks 
 of solemnity in the majestic presence of Washington 
 was all he could stand and he secured a transfer to 
 the staff of Gen. Israel Putnam. That bluff old warrior 
 took kindly to the unusual youth and they became great 
 friends. Burr lived with the Putnam's at the Battery, 
 and was a general favorite. Mrs. Putnam and the brisk 
 young daughters adored him. He helped the general 
 in his task of fortifying Manhattan Island. The de- 
 
Aaron Burr 
 
 feat on Long Island led to a series of conflicts on that 
 of Manhattan and the British won. Burr was not sur- 
 prised. He thought Washington a poor general and 
 a weak man and never changed his opinion. Curiously, 
 Hamilton, whom Washington loved, and who followed 
 Burr on his staff, liked the post as little. 
 
 During the conflicts that preceded the evacuation 
 of New York, Burr distinguished himself, especially 
 in the fight at Forty-second Street and Fifth Avenue, 
 on September 15, 1776, when he saved Gen. Henry 
 Knox and many men from capture. 
 
 It was while with the Putnam household that Burr 
 met Margaret Moncrieffe, daughter of a British ma- 
 jor, held prisoner, who became rather notorious and 
 left an impression that Burr was the first to mislead 
 her. It is probably untrue. She was but fourteen and 
 the precocious boy looked always to women older than 
 himself. It suited the lady in her later ill-repute to pin 
 a scandal to a name already overweighted. In truth, 
 Burr thought the clever girl was doing some danger- 
 ous spying and gave Washington warning, which led 
 to keeping her under surveillance. 
 
 For ten months after the evacuation of New York, 
 Burr served with Putnam, or until, in July, Washing- 
 ton caused him to be promoted to a lieutenant-colonelcy 
 — the youngest in all the army to hold the rank. Colo- 
 nel Malcom, who commanded the regiment, was a rich 
 New York tradesman, who had been flattered by the 
 position and gave liberally to the cause. He did not 
 care for active service, and the field work fell to Burr. 
 "You," Malcom said to his subordinate, "shall have 
 
Aaron Burr 
 
 all the honor of disciplining and fighting the regiment, 
 while I will be its father." 
 
 Burr gave the careless command a dose of disci- 
 pline and brought it into prime order. Most of the 
 officers were of the same type as the colonel. He got 
 rid of them and filled their places with sterner stuff. 
 Yet he abused no man and the cat was never used on 
 the backs of his men. He fell upon a British raiding 
 party that had ventured from New York to Hacken- 
 sack and drove it to hasty retreat. In the course of 
 patrolling North Jersey, he met at Paramus, Theodo- 
 sia Prevost, widow of a British major, to whom he 
 became at once attached, though she was not hand- 
 some, and much older. His mature mind found a com- 
 plement; his romance followed to fulfillment. 
 
 The regiment wintered at Valley Forge, where Burr 
 showed such resource and intrepidity that Washington 
 gave him command at the pass by which the British 
 might assault the wretched army shivering in their 
 hovels. When the next campaign opened, Burr's regi- 
 ment fought at Monmouth, where he thought Major- 
 Gen. Charles Lee was right and Washington wrong. 
 Burr was in Lord Sterling's division. Washington next 
 sent him scouting and finally set the regiment to watch- 
 ing Tories around West Point. For a time he com- 
 manded the post. Remember, he was but twenty-one. 
 
 Made a full colonel, Burr was given command of 
 the important post at White Plains, in January, 1779. 
 Here he distinguished himself, curbing Tories and 
 holding an unbroken line down to Kingsbridge where 
 the British lay. He stopped brigandage on the part 
 
8 Aaron Burr 
 
 of the American troops and guerillas and maintained 
 order in Westchester. The English built a blockhouse, 
 in what he regarded as his territory, and he promptly 
 destroyed it, making the garrison prisoners. He had 
 a keen military eye, had this amazing youngster. 
 
 Tyron was doing much raiding. Burr broke up the 
 practice. He knew the former Governor of New York 
 and greatly enjoyed besting him. So it went on until 
 the war came to an end, finding Burr without fortune 
 and poor in health. He decided to practice law, but 
 was barred by not having completed his studies. Six 
 months were spent reading law books in the office 
 of Thomas Smith, at Haverstraw, and he then tried 
 for admission. The lawyers had ruled that a three year 
 apprenticeship was needed. He appeared before a 
 judge in Albany, pleaded his service in the army as an 
 excuse for the lack of study, was permitted to be ex- 
 amined and triumphantly passed, January 19, 1782. 
 He now began to practice, first in Albany, with much 
 success. He was twenty-six and true to Theodosia Pre- 
 vost, married her, though she was ten years his senior 
 and had two sons. The wedding occurred November 
 
 *5> : 7 8 3- 
 
 Coincidentally, the British evacuated New York 
 and Burr moving thitherto, speedily became eminent 
 at the bar, competing much with another bright young 
 man, Alexander Hamilton. Both were soon in politics 
 and on opposing sides. He prospered and for a home 
 bought the Richmond Hill mansion where he had 
 lodged with Washington. 
 
 It could probably be proved, without much dif- 
 ficulty, that Burr played politics as a game, not as a 
 
Aaron Burr 
 
 matter of principle. Well established in New York as 
 a lawyer, he rallied a brisk following of young men who 
 admired his wit and accepted his cynical views. "Burr's 
 myrmidons" Hamilton called them. They surely 
 followed their leader. He served a couple of terms 
 in the Legislature and was a rising figure. Once he 
 joined with Hamilton in supporting Judge Joseph C. 
 Yates for governor, against George Clinton. Yates 
 had helped him gain his easy admittance to the bar 
 and Burr never forgot an obligation. Clinton won, 
 and being shrewd, picked Burr as his attorney- 
 general. Parton, Burr's biographer, thinks this was 
 because he was forgiving. Instead, he was wise and saw 
 possibilities in this capable youth. 
 
 Two weeks after the completion of the Constitu- 
 tion, in July, 1787, William Mooney had founded, in 
 New York, the Columbian Order, better known as 
 Tammany Hall. This remains the oldest political or- 
 ganization in the country. Burr speedily annexed it and 
 his young aristocrats controlled its affairs. The Swart- 
 wouts, Van Nesses and their kind were very promi- 
 nent, and always friends of Burr. There were no real 
 parties, and the weight of the Hall went to where it 
 could carry the best results for its members. So backed, 
 Burr was in a position to travel far. He became a 
 United States Senator in 178 1, defeating Philip Schuy- 
 ler and serving with industry and fidelity. Indeed, all 
 that the man did he did well. 
 
 Burr's six years in the Senate were diligent, but un- 
 eventful. There is no record of great debates in which 
 he shared, or of any legislation fathered. According 
 to Rufus King, his none too friendly colleague, he was 
 
io Aaron Burr 
 
 more proficient in summing up than originating. As 
 Jefferson's Republican Party made itself visible, he 
 supported its views. His chief achievement was in caus- 
 ing the Senate to hold open sessions. He also stood 
 with the friends of France and objected to taking 
 John Jay from the Chief Justice's bench, to iron out 
 the wrinkles left in his treaty with England. When 
 Gouverneur Morris was recalled from the French mis- 
 sion a Senate caucus agreed on Burr as the right man 
 to succeed him. James Madison was chairman of the 
 committee that carried the suggestion to President 
 Washington, who rejected it incontinentally, saying 
 that it was his rule never to nominate anyone for public 
 office of "whose integrity he was not assured'' and he 
 lacked this confidence in Colonel Burr, thus echoing 
 the baleful influence of Hamilton. 
 
 This was reported to the Senate and the Committee 
 was sent back to reaffirm its position. James Monroe 
 was a member. Washington, with visible wrath, stood 
 his ground, but expressed a willingness to appoint either 
 Madison or Monroe. The caucus would name no other 
 and so advised Jefferson as Secretary of State. He 
 thought this was crowding the President, and did not 
 tell him of the resolve. Monroe at last received the 
 appointment. 
 
 In the spring of 1794, Burr's wife, "the best woman 
 and finest lady I have ever known" as he once ex- 
 pressed it, died, after long suffering with cancer, leav- 
 ing, besides her sons, Burr's daughter, Theodosia, then 
 aged eleven, and all her life the pride of his heart, 
 who took her mother's place in his deepest affections. 
 Much of her education he gave himself, true to the 
 
Aaron Burr n 
 
 teaching instinct so strong in his ancestry, with the 
 result that she became the best informed woman of 
 her day. At fourteen she was mistress of his house, and 
 met, with elegance of manner, the distinguished guests 
 who came. 
 
 When the time arrived to select a successor to Wash- 
 ington, in 1796, Burr was in the field with such a fol- 
 lowing that he received thirty electoral votes, running 
 third in the opposition to John Adams, who led with 
 71, Jefferson receiving 63 and Thomas Pinckney 39. 
 Adams was thus a minority selection. With all his 
 eminence, Burr's fences in New York fell into bad 
 order. Hamilton, on the ground, had busied himself 
 to such purpose as to put the State in Federalist con- 
 trol. John Jay had become governor, and Hamilton 
 avenged Burr's victory over Philip Schuyler who was 
 his father-in-law by sending the latter to the Senate 
 by all but one vote in the Legislature, leaving Burr to 
 begin his political life over again. He lost no time, and 
 as a first step upward, became once more a member of 
 the State Assembly. 
 
 Out of luck, and dispirited, he sought a commission 
 as brigadier-general in the regular army. The Pres- 
 ident, John Adams urged his claim, but Washing- 
 ton demurred. "Colonel Burr is a brave and able of- 
 ficer," he said. "But the question is, whether he has 
 not equal talents at intrigue." This was after he had 
 made Hamilton Inspector General, whom John Adams 
 described as the "most restless, impatient, artful, in- 
 defatigable and unprincipled intriguer in the United 
 States." Victorious all around, Hamilton took on a 
 patronizing attitude toward Burr. "Little Burr" he 
 
12 Aaron Burr 
 
 called him to General Wilkinson, adding: "We have 
 always been opposed in politics, but on good terms. 
 We set out in the practice of law at the same time, and 
 took opposite political directions. Burr beckoned me 
 to follow him, and I advised him to come with me. We 
 could not agree, but I fancy he now begins to think 
 he was wrong and I was right." 
 
 Thus thwarted, Burr returned to New York. He 
 sold Richmond Hill to the first John Jacob Astor for 
 $125,000, paid his debts and resumed the practice of 
 law. Among other smart doings he contrived a charter 
 for the "Manhattan Company" which evaded the rule 
 that no banks could be chartered, Hamilton having 
 rigged an inhibition when he organized the Bank of 
 New York. Ostensibly, it provided a water supply 
 through private capital for the region around New 
 York's City Hall. Some of its old wooden conduits 
 are now and then dug up at this late day, while under 
 the charter the great Bank of the Manhattan Company 
 entered upon its long and honorable career. Burr, mean- 
 while, had been elected to the Assembly. The bank 
 charter made a great row and he was defeated for 
 re-election. Some scandal over the doings of the Hol- 
 land land company brought on Burr's first duel, with 
 John B. Church, a brother-in-law of Hamilton, on 
 September 2, 1799. The affair came off at Hoboken 
 and was somewhat farcical. No one was hurt, and both 
 parties forgave each other. 
 
 Burr's fortunes being much bettered, he again be- 
 came active in politics. The feud between John Adams 
 and Hamilton helped the Republicans. Burr got back 
 into the Legislature from Orange County, which was 
 
Aaron Burr 13 
 
 not stirred over the bank charter. He organized his 
 "Myrmidons" anew, drew George Clinton from re- 
 tirement, and rallied beside Gen. Horatio Gates, Sam- 
 uel Swartwout, Henry Rutgers and men of like quality. 
 Clinton was anti-Jefferson and it took much persua- 
 sion to make him a Republican. Burr carried New 
 York City. Hamilton saw in this victory peril for Fed- 
 eralist electors at the next Presidential election, now 
 near, and proposed an extra session to change the 
 methods of choosing them. Burr exposed this ruse, 
 which died a-borning. The close clinch between the 
 rivals was now on. Burr's leadership brought him a 
 following and the support of many Republicans for 
 the Presidency, with Jefferson as his chief rival. In the 
 election of 1800, each received 73 electoral votes, 
 Adams 65, Pinckney 64, Jay 1. 
 
 This threw the election into the House, which was 
 Federalist in majority. It was limited in choice, how- 
 ever, to the two highest names on the ticket, Jefferson 
 and Burr, both Republicans. The choice had to be 
 made by a majority of States. Jefferson received 51 
 of the 106 votes, and for twenty-nine ballots there 
 was no change. The deadlock ended on March 8th, 
 by the election of Jefferson as President, and Burr as 
 Vice-President. Of the two horns of the dilemma, 
 Hamilton had chosen the one that was to become fatal 
 to himself, and to his party, putting Jefferson in an 
 ascendance long to be held secure. 
 
 Linked with Jefferson in high office, Burr was left 
 to himself politically. As a Senator he had "soon in- 
 spired" Jefferson "with mistrust," as the latter wrote. 
 They got along courteously, however. In New York 
 
14 Aaron Burr 
 
 politics continued turbulent, Burr's followers and the 
 Federalists clashing continually, while the Jefferson 
 faction in his own party opposed him. Burr objected 
 to the domination of Virginia in national politics and 
 tried to turn the lead North with New York at the 
 front. The busy Hamilton saw in the schism an op- 
 portunity to carry on his own antagonism and began 
 a systematic campaign of innuendo and reflection 
 against the Vice-President. This came to a head in 
 1804. Burr had been beaten in the State election of 
 1803, after a fierce conflict, and was fully aware of 
 Hamilton's proceedings. During the campaign, a letter 
 written by Charles D. Cooper became public, contain- 
 ing two expressions : 
 
 (1) — General Hamilton and Judge Kent have de- 
 clared, in substance, that they looked upon Mr. Burr 
 to be a dangerous man, and one who ought not to be 
 trusted with the reins of government. 
 
 (2) — I could detail to you still more despicable 
 opinion which General Hamilton has expressed of 
 Burr. 
 
 On June 17, 1804, Burr caused William P. Van Ness, 
 a close friend, to convey a copy of Cooper's letter to 
 General Hamilton, with the passages marked and a 
 note which concluded in these menacing terms: 
 
 You must perceive, sir, the necessity of a prompt and un- 
 qualified acknowledgment or denial of the use of any such ex- 
 pressions which would warrant the assertions of Mr. Cooper. 
 
 Hamilton had never seen the letter. He asked time 
 to consider until the 20th. His response equivocated 
 and begged the question. Burr countered coldly. 
 
Aaron Burr 15 
 
 Your letter of the 20th, [he wrote,] has been this day re- 
 ceived. Having considered it attentively, I regret to find in it 
 nothing of that sincerity and delicacy which you profess to 
 value. Political opposition can never absolve gentlemen from 
 the necessity of a rigid adherence to the laws of honor and the 
 rules of decorum. I neither claim such privilege nor indulge it 
 in others. The common sense of mankind affixes to the epithet 
 adopted by Dr. Cooper the idea of dishonor. It has been pub- 
 licly applied to me under the sanction of your name. The ques- 
 tion is not, whether he has understood the meaning of the word, 
 or has used it according to syntax, and with grammatical 
 accuracy; but, whether you have authorized this application, 
 either directly or by uttering expressions or opinions derogatory 
 to my honor. The time 'when' is in your own knowledge, but 
 no way material to me, as the calumny has now first been dis- 
 closed, so as to become the subject of my notice, and as the 
 effect is present and palpable. Your letter has furnished me 
 with new reasons for requiring a definite reply. 
 
 To Van Ness, who brought this merciless missive, 
 Hamilton showed much concern, but instead of giving 
 the definite response required, lamely replied that it 
 was a letter such as he had hoped not to receive; that 
 Mr. Burr might rather have asked him to detail his 
 inferences, which would have been found justifiable. 
 Should Burr take this view and withdraw the letter he 
 would regard it as never having been sent, and con- 
 tinue the discussion. If not, he had nothing further 
 to say. Burr's return response was that he felt con- 
 vinced that Hamilton bore toward him a "settled and 
 implacable malevolence" and that his "secret depre- 
 dations" upon his character "must have an end." This 
 Van Ness called to tell Hamilton verbally. He learned 
 
16 Aaron Burr 
 
 that the general had given a note to Nathan Pendle- 
 ton, further expressing himself, and did not deliver 
 the message. This letter informed Burr that his style 
 was "too peremptory," and his demands "unprece- 
 dented and unwarrantable." The result was a chal- 
 lenge that was at once accepted. 
 
 .For twenty-four days the parleyings went on, so 
 secretly that not an intimation got abroad. Both men 
 attended to business, pleading causes and going about 
 as usual. They even met at a banquet of the Cincinnati. 
 One word of the pending difficulty would have led to 
 interference and prevention had it become public, as 
 it did not. The seconds at last agreed upon the morn- 
 ing of July nth as the date. Hamilton wrote his will 
 and left behind him a long document in explanation 
 of the position in which he found himself. With all his 
 talent for meeting emergencies, he failed in this. A 
 cool, clear public statement would have put Burr in 
 the wrong; the equivocation left him in the right from 
 the meticulous standpoint of the code duello. 
 
 The encounter thus set came off as arranged, at 
 Weehawken, N. J., opposite New York. Burr and 
 Van Ness were on the ground at 6 :30, coming by boat 
 from Richmond Hill. Hamilton and Pendleton came 
 a little later. The ground was paced and the principals 
 placed. Hamilton declined to set the hair trigger of his 
 weapon. When the word came, Burr took careful aim 
 and fired. Hamilton gave a convulsive leap, and as he 
 fell his pistol was discharged, cutting a twig over Burr's 
 head. Burr handed his pistol to Van Ness, who kept 
 it, and went at once to his boat, leaving Hamilton to 
 the care of Pendleton and Dr. Hosack, the surgeon. 
 
Aaron Burr 17 
 
 His wound was severe and he was borne to his town 
 house at 52 Cedar Street. By nine o'clock the news of 
 the conflict was abroad. Intense excitement followed 
 and widespread grief, for Hamilton was greatly be- 
 loved; his rival was not. At two o'clock on Wednes- 
 day, thirty-one hours after the event, General Hamil- 
 ton died, leaving seven children and a widow, who 
 was to survive him fifty years. Imposing services were 
 held, while French and British warships in the bay 
 fired minute guns. Next to the murder of Abraham 
 Lincoln, the tragedy remains the most poignant in 
 American political history. 
 
 The death of Hamilton roused almost universal de- 
 testation of Burr. He was astounded to find Repub- 
 licans and Federalists alike vigorous in denunciation 
 of his act. Of the Jeffersonians Burr wrote at the mo- 
 ment: "Our most unprincipled Jacobians are loudest 
 in the lamentations for the death of General Hamil- 
 ton, whom, for many years, they have uniformly de- 
 nounced as the most detestable and unprincipled of 
 men. The motives are obvious." 
 
 He soon deemed it wise to depart from the city to 
 some safe solitude. He went first to the home of Com- 
 modore Thomas Truxton, at Perth Amboy, N. J., 
 and was conveyed by carriage to Cranberry, a hamlet 
 in South Jersey. Thence he made a round-about jour- 
 ney to Philadelphia, keeping incognito on the road. 
 Here he visited at the home of Alexander J. Dallas and 
 awaited events. Meanwhile, the coroner's jury in New 
 York was investigating and deliberating. On August 
 2d, it returned a verdict against Burr and his seconds. 
 Warrants were issued for their arrest. To avoid this, 
 
18 Aaron Burr 
 
 Burr and Samuel Swartwout debarked for St. Simon's 
 Isle on the Georgia coast. Here he was entertained 
 for a month and then departed on a four hundred mile 
 trip to the home of his daughter, Theodosia Burr Al- 
 ston, in North Carolina. He rested a few days and 
 then departed for Washington, which he reached co- 
 incident with his indictment in New York. No attempt 
 was made to seize him. As he wrote his daughter: 
 
 There has subsisted for some time a contention of a very 
 singular nature between the two States of New York and New 
 Jersey as to which shall have the honor of hanging the vice- 
 president. You shall have due notice of the time and place. 
 
 Neither New York nor New Jersey in the end, 
 claimed the honor. It was deemed seemly to let the 
 matter drop. Burr resumed his seat as the presiding 
 officer of the Senate* and even shared in some patron- 
 age, securing the assignment of Gen. James Wilkinson 
 as governor of the new Louisiana Territory, just 
 bought from France. Burr presided with great dignity 
 at the trial under impeachment of Mr. Justice Chase 
 of the United States Supreme Court, and "with the 
 rigor of a devil" as a current reporter wrote. He also 
 guided the regular sessions 'of the Senate until the 2nd 
 of March. On that day he bade public life farewell. 
 With infinite grace and gravity he expressed the hope 
 that he had been true to the responsibility of his of- 
 fice, and just and fair in his rulings. The Senate, itself, 
 he regarded as the chief preserver of law, order and 
 liberty — the place where resistance would be made to 
 storms of political frenzy and the silent acts of corrup- 
 tion ; where the Constitution would make its last stand 
 
Aaron Burr 19 
 
 against the demagogue and the usurper. In this tone 
 he took his leave — with prayers and good wishes for 
 all. 
 
 So moving were his words, so deep his feeling, that 
 the Senators were in tears as he laid down the gavel 
 and stepped behind the curtain. It was half an hour 
 before the body could recover its decorum and select 
 a vice-president pro tern. 
 
 For the remaining thirty years of his life Burr's 
 journey was down hill. His public career, so far as po- 
 litical preferment went, was ended. "In New York" 
 he wrote Joseph Alston, his son-in-law, "I am to be 
 disfranchised, and in New Jersey, hanged. Having 
 substantial objections to both, I shall not for the pres- 
 ent hazard either, but shall seek a new country." This 
 resolve he undertook to carry out, with results that 
 ended in discredit and to a trial for treason. 
 
 Among the acquaintances Burr made on the march 
 to Quebec, was James Wilkinson, a man of audacity 
 like himself, and though less acute more capable of 
 covering his tracks. Their friendship was close. They 
 corresponded regularly when apart, many of the let- 
 ters being in cipher, a method Burr had taken on when 
 a student at Princeton. Burr was slight, keen and 
 graceful; the general big and bluff. Perhaps it was 
 the great difference in size and temperament that en- 
 deared the general to Burr. Such affinities are common. 
 
 From 1764 to 1800, the Louisiana territory, em- 
 bracing a vast country west of the Mississippi as well 
 as the present State of that name, was in Spanish 
 hands. By his bargain with Bonaparte, who wished to 
 build up an anti-British empire in the New World, 
 
20 Aaron Burr 
 
 President Thomas Jefferson purchased the region for 
 $15,000,000 and the American flag went up at New 
 Orleans on December 28, 1803. 
 
 Wilkinson and W. C. C. Claiborne were appointed 
 the United States commissioners to attend the trans- 
 fer. As before stated he owed this eminence to Burr, 
 then vice-president, who, though not beloved by Jef- 
 ferson, wielded great influence in party politics. So 
 they were near together in interest when Burr's pistol- 
 shot killed Hamilton and destroyed the former's 
 career. Claiborne became governor, and Wilkinson, 
 military commander. In 1805 Jefferson gave him both 
 offices. That he managed to adjust his relations with 
 both Jefferson and Burr, so as to keep the favor of 
 one and enjoy the confidence of the other is a tribute 
 to his skill as a balancer. Burr, disfranchised in New 
 York, and ostracized, was looking about for a place. 
 He wanted to be given a foreign embassy, and Wilkin- 
 son sought the aid of Matthew Lyon, a belligerent Jef- 
 fersonian who had left Vermont for Kentucky, to ask 
 the President for such an appointment. Lyon had no 
 liking for Burr, and told Wilkinson the thing was im- 
 possible. Wilkinson then urged Lyon to suggest some- 
 thing that "would do for the little counsellor." Lyon 
 suggested that Burr should gain a Nashville residence, 
 and later, stand for a seat in Congress, which he 
 thought could be readily acquired. "This will do! It 
 is a heavenly thought," responded Wilkinson, "worthy 
 of him who thought it." The interview occurred in 
 Washington where Burr was still living. Lyon went 
 to Burr's lodgings on an appointment made by the 
 general, and was politely received. The suggestion did 
 
Aaron Burr 21 
 
 not stir the Vice-President, the end of whose term 
 was near. He did say he was engaged in looking up a 
 western land proposition, and, in the spring, was going 
 via the river route to look into it. In other conversa- 
 tions held later, Burr brought up the embassy sugges- 
 tion, intimating anew that Lyon might mention it to 
 Jefferson. He replied flatly that he would not dare do 
 such a thing. 
 
 Burr had some business engagements in Philadel- 
 phia, whither he went from Washington early in 
 March, 1805. On April 10th, he departed from Pitts- 
 burgh. Floating down the Ohio he paused at an island 
 forty miles above Cincinnati, where Harman Blenner- 
 hassett, a romantic Irishman with a charming wife, had 
 set up a splendid establishment. The courteous Burr 
 soon made himself at home, with consequences disas- 
 trous to his hosts. After an agreeable stay he went on 
 down the river and up the Cumberland to Nashville, 
 calling on Lyon at Eddyville, Kentucky, where he then 
 resided. He questioned Lyon about the chance of get- 
 ting a seat in Congress and was told that he had de- 
 layed too long. Burr then intimated that he would seek 
 a seat in the New Orleans territory, if a Tennessee 
 opening was impossible. This proved to be the case. 
 Burr did not show much concern, somewhat to the 
 vexation of Lyon. "There seemed to be too much mys- 
 tery in his conduct," Lyon wrote later. "I suspected 
 him to have other objects in view, through which I 
 could not penetrate. These objects I then believed, 
 were known to General Wilkinson." 
 
 Burr remained four days in Nashville as the guest of 
 Andrew Jackson. Leaving, he went down the river 
 
22 Aaron Burr 
 
 to the Ohio and thence to Fort Massac, a former 
 French post, where he met Wilkinson enroute to New 
 Orleans and his government. Jonathan Dayton, who 
 was to be joined in his further activities, was also 
 there, and others who were to be interested. Wilkin- 
 son declared they discussed the building of a canal 
 around the Falls of the Ohio at Louisville and noth- 
 ing more. Even so, he gave Burr letters to leading 
 citizens at New Orleans and loaned him "an elegant 
 barge, sails, colors and ten oars, with a sergeant and 
 ten able, faithful hands" to convey him to that city, 
 which he reached on June 23, 1805. 
 
 One of the letters given Burr by Wilkinson was 
 to Daniel Clark, a leading merchant. It read: 
 
 This will be delivered to you by Colonel Burr, whose worth 
 you know well how to estimate. If the persecutions of a great 
 and honorable man can give title to generous intentions, he has 
 claim to all your attentions and all your services. You cannot 
 oblige me more than by such conduct, and I pledge my life 
 to you, it will not be misapplied. To him I refer you for many 
 things improper to letter, and which he will not say to any 
 other. I shall be at St. Louis in two weeks, and if you were 
 there, we could open a mine, a commercial one, at least. 
 
 With this, and other introductions, Burr was glori- 
 ously received. Claiborne, retiring governor, gave him 
 a dinner and banquets were the order of the day in 
 the hospitable city, then numbering around nine thou- 
 sand souls. Any purpose he might have had of settling 
 humbly in Nashville, was quite dispelled by all the 
 glory here accorded him. He began to feel the emo- 
 tions of a Napoleon. 
 
Aaron Burr 23 
 
 Wilkinson's thoughts that he could not "letter," 
 are echoed in another missive he wrote at the time 
 to Gen. John Adair, of Kentucky, an old army com- 
 rade : 
 
 I was to have introduced my friend Burr to you, but in this 
 I failed by accident. He understands your merits and reckons 
 on you. Repair to me and I will tell you all. We must have a 
 peep at the unknown world beyond me. 
 
 Reaching St. Louis, Wilkinson sought to interest 
 Major Bruff in "a grand scheme" that would "make 
 the fortune of all concerned," but did not succeed in 
 the endeavor. 
 
 Clark and Burr got on famously, but the former 
 denies in a book he wrote later, "Proofs of the cor- 
 ruption of Gen. James Wilkinson, and of his con- 
 nection with Aaron Burr," that Burr broached any 
 project of any sort, while he insists that Wilkinson, 
 in approaching Major Bruff, indulged in "a phillipic 
 against Democracy, and the ingratitude of republican 
 governments." 
 
 Burr came North by land. It was before the days of 
 steamboats and the rivers were difficult of ascent. He 
 rode horses provided by Clark to Natchez, crossed to 
 Nashville, which he reached on August 6th, and be- 
 came again the guest of Andrew Jackson. He next 
 made a triumphal trip across Kentucky, meeting, and 
 fascinating, Henry Clay on the road. 
 
 Some inkling of his purpose, or those of Wilkinson 
 and himself, must have reached the Spaniards, whose 
 territory touched the east side of the river, and who 
 held Baton Rouge. They had a good spy system in 
 
24 Aaron Burr 
 
 New Orleans. Clark was included in the rumors and 
 wrote Wilkinson a long disclaimer, that may have been 
 meant as a blind, complaining how the story of a pos- 
 sible expedition was interfering with a large business 
 speculation he was about to put over at Vera Cruz. 
 Wilkinson treated it as a "tale of a tub" and gave 
 Clark no more consolation. He may have been selling 
 his friend out at the time. Clark evidently came finally 
 to that conclusion. 
 
 Burr and Wilkinson met again in St. Louis in Sep- 
 tember. In his memoirs he records Burr as strangely 
 altered; as one meditating on great projects and full 
 of the belief that the Southwest was disaffected against 
 the Government. He sets himself down as controvert- 
 ing this view. He feared that Burr "had conceived 
 some dangerous and desperate enterprise," and called 
 upon Governor William Henry Harrison of Indiana, 
 to ask if he could not secure a seat for Burr in Con- 
 gress, to head him off in his designs. This was all writ- 
 ten after the wreck of Burr's enterprise and can be 
 taken with many grains of salt. He also confesses to 
 warning a number of Jefferson's Cabinet to "keep an 
 eye on Burr." Yet all this while the cipher correspond- 
 ence went on, Burr sending him six letters in code 
 between September, 1805 and May, 1806. 
 
 Burr went East in October. He paid a visit to the 
 Blennerhassetts on their island and spent a week in 
 Washington during November. He was well received 
 and Jefferson had him to dinner at the White House. 
 There had been fears of war with Spain. Wilkinson 
 had been busily fortifying and getting things in shape 
 for a possible conflict with the Spanish. Burr happened 
 
AARON BURR 
 From a painting by J. Sharpies, the Elder 
 
Aaron Burr 25 
 
 to say at the dinner that a certain road on one of his 
 maps sent the War Department was only on the map. 
 He called on Jefferson the next day to explain it away 
 to ward harm from Wilkinson. Incidentally, he heard 
 that the Spanish danger was past. Of this he informed 
 Wilkinscm in one of the cipher letters. He took ad- 
 vantage of meeting Jefferson to suggest his need of 
 employment. To this Jefferson, in his notes, avers that 
 he told Burr that while he appreciated his abilities, 
 the loss of public confidence prevented acceding to his 
 request. This Burr received in good spirit and they 
 dined together again — eac*h perhaps feeling the other 
 out and dissembling a bit ! The door to public employ- 
 ment was, however, definitely closed. 
 
 So circumstanced, and having been much adulated 
 in the South and West, Burr's mind must have readily 
 reverted to Wilkinson's "unknown world beyond me." 
 That gentleman had now been confirmed in the Gov- 
 ernorship about which there had been doubts, and so 
 had, perhaps, softened somewhat in his views concern- 
 ing the ingratitude of republics. 
 
 Where did the general's idea breed of an invasion of 
 Spanish territory and setting up a Southwestern do- 
 minion? Parton thinks, and probably correctly, that it 
 grew out of the schemes of Gen. Don Francisco Mi- 
 randa to free Venezuela, fostered in New York, where 
 he met both Burr and Wilkinson, having been financed 
 by Burr's friend, Samuel G. Ogden, and his partner, 
 William S. Smith. 
 
 Did he inspire Burr? The answer made by Burr is 
 that he did not; that to the contrary he inspired Wil- 
 kinson, who in turn, it is implied by what followed, 
 
26 Aaron Burr 
 
 turned the idea of seizing a slice of Spanish posses- 
 sions over to Burr, with a proposition to share in the 
 enterprise. This looks reasonable. Miranda sailed away 
 in the Leander with the first body of American filibus- 
 ters, failed and ended his days in a Spanish cell at 
 Cadiz*. He had done valiant deeds as a general under 
 Dumoriez in the first days of the French republic. 
 
 Burr's reflex of Miranda is found in his correspond- 
 ence. Writing from Washington under date of March 
 20, 1806, to an officer in West Tennessee, he said: 
 
 The object of the Administration appears to be to treat for 
 the purchase of the Florida, and the secret business which so 
 long occupied Congress is believed to be an appropriation of 
 two millions of dollars for that purpose. . . . 
 
 But notwithstanding the pacific temper of our Gov't there 
 is great reason to expect hostility, arising out of the expedition 
 under General Miranda. This expedition was fitted out at 
 New York and the object is pretty well known to be an at- 
 tempt to Revolutionize the Caracas. ... It would not sur- 
 prise me if on a knowledge of these facts at Paris and Madrid 
 our vessels in the ports of these kingdoms should be seized and 
 measures taken for the reduction of Orleans. If these appre- 
 hensions should be justified by events, a military force on our 
 part would be requisite and that force might come from your 
 side of the mountains. . . . 
 
 Your country is full of fine materials for an army and I 
 have often said that a Brigade could be raised in West Tenn. 
 ... I take the liberty of recommending to you to make out a 
 list of officers from Colonel down to Ensign for one or two 
 regiments, composed of fellows fit for business and with whom 
 you would trust your life and your honor. . . . 
 
 Burr records that on meeting Wilkinson in St. Louis, 
 
Aaron Burr 27 
 
 after Miranda's fizzle, the general said he "feared 
 Miranda had taken the bread out of his mouth" — 
 whatever that may have meant. 
 
 Coincident with his interview with Jefferson, Burr 
 received a note from Blennerhassett wishing to know 
 what had become of the "project" they had discussed. 
 Burr replied that he still had it in mind. That he was 
 pursuing it actively is shown in a cipher note sent the 
 next day to Wilkinson, which stated, among other 
 things, that delay had been caused by low water in 
 the Ohio, but this, while irksome, would "enable us 
 to move with more certainty and dignity." Also, "The 
 association is enlarged and comprises all Wilkinson 
 could wish. Confidence limited to a few." By this it may 
 be assumed Burr recognized the general as a full 
 partner. 
 
 The Spanish situation suddenly became aggressive. 
 In June their troops, to the number of 1,200, advanc- 
 ing by way of Texas, reached about twenty miles from 
 Nachitoches. Wilkinson moved six hundred regulars, 
 all he had, toward the point in danger, and manned the 
 New Orleans forts with militia. The country was keen 
 for conflict. This Wilkinson might readily have begun, 
 as Zachary Taylor did 40 years later, and Texas have 
 been ours without further delay. Parton infers that 
 a gesture from Napoleon stopped our aggression. This 
 did move Jefferson. Daniel Clark thought the viceroy's 
 purse, previously tapped, stalled Wilkinson. 
 
 Whether for a blind or as a real purpose of coloniza- 
 tion, in July, 1806, Burr purchased a large tract on 
 the Washita, drawing upon the savings of relatives, 
 his own credit and the pockets of devoted friends. He 
 
28 Aaron Burr 
 
 enlisted a number of valorous young gentlemen, includ- 
 ing Samuel Swartwout of New York, Dr. Eric Boll- 
 man, a German who had tried to rescue Lafayette from 
 prison, Marinus Willett, later Mayor of New York; 
 a son of Matthias Ogden and Comfort Tyler of Can- 
 andaigua, who raised a company in Central New York, 
 in which there were four or five Creels, and at least one 
 by the name of George, all of whom engaged to ren- 
 dezvous at Blennerhassett's Island. Burr made his 
 headquarters at Philadelphia, cultivating two men who 
 were aggrieved at the Jefferson government — Com- 
 modore Thomas Truxton and "General" William 
 Eaton, the Connecticut schoolmaster, who had almost 
 taken North Africa in the war on the Barbary cor- 
 sairs. Both were having trouble to adjust their claims. 
 
 William Pitt died January 6, 1806, and this shifted 
 European politics. Perhaps this was the cause of giving 
 Wilkinson cold feet. The conspirators had hopes of 
 British support against an administration whose sym- 
 pathies were with France. 
 
 Burr's real purpose has never been accurately re- 
 vealed. Parton inferred that in the event of war he 
 planned to invade and seize Mexico; if none broke 
 out, to build up his colony on the Washita. Whatever 
 it was he embarked for Blennerhassett's Island, with 
 his daughter, Mrs. Theodosia Alston, and on arriving 
 there, busied himself with preparations, collecting flat- 
 boats, men and provisions. Thence he sent Samuel 
 Swartwout, with a package of dispatches, to Wilkin- 
 son, while he traveled all over the adjacent region 
 hunting support and recruits. While in Kentucky he 
 was cited to appear in court and answer to the charge 
 
Aaron Burr 29 
 
 of engaging in an unlawful enterprise. He duly pre- 
 sented himself at Frankfort to answer, with Henry 
 Clay as his counsel. Jo Daviess, the U. S. District At- 
 torney, had no evidence. So the Grand Jury was dis- 
 missed. Burr and General John Adair were now ac- 
 cused jointly and another appearance in court resulted. 
 The Grand Jury refused to indict either of the gentle- 
 men. Clay had exacted from Burr an explicit disavowal 
 of any overt design against his country before he would 
 appear in the case. He was now free to go about his 
 business. 
 
 Fifteen barges were building at Marietta. More were 
 to come down the Cumberland, and all were to unite 
 at the mouth of that river to follow their leader where- 
 ever he chose to go. This was well arranged when 
 something happened. 
 
 Samuel Swartwout found Governor Wilkinson much 
 disturbed when he came upon him at Nachitoches on 
 October 8, 1806. He first presented a simple letter 
 of introduction, such as one friend might give another, 
 and being well received, delivered a note in cipher, 
 which read: 
 
 Yours, post marked 13th of May, is received. I, Aaron 
 Burr, have obtained funds, and have actually commenced the 
 enterprise. Detachments from different points, and under dif- 
 ferent pretenses, will rendezvous on the Ohio, 1st November 
 ■ — everything, internal and external, favors views; protection 
 
 of England is secured. T is going to Jamaica to arrange 
 
 with the admiral on that station; it will meet on the Missis- 
 sippi. , England, , navy of the United States are 
 
 ready to join, and final orders are given to my friends and 
 followers: it will be a host of choice spirits. Wilkinson shall 
 
30 Aaron Burr 
 
 be second to Burr only, Wilkinson shall dictate the rank and 
 promotion of his officers. Burr will proceed westward, 1st 
 August, never more to return; with him goes his daughter; 
 the husband will follow in October with a corps of worthies. 
 
 Send forth an intelligent and confidential friend with whom 
 Burr may confer; he shall return immediately with further 
 interesting details; this is essential to concert and harmony of 
 movement. Send a list of all persons known to Wilkinson, west 
 of the mountains, who may be useful, with a note delineating 
 their characters. By your messenger send me four or five com- 
 missions of your officers, which you can borrow under any pre- 
 tense you please; they shall be returned faithfully. Already 
 are orders to the contractors given to forward six months' pro- 
 visions to points Wilkinson may name; this shall not be used 
 until the last moment, and then under proper injunctions. 
 The project is brought to the point so long desired. Burr 
 guaranties the result with his life and honor, with the honor, 
 and fortunes of hundreds of the best blood of our country. 
 
 Burr's plan of operation is, to move down rapidly from the 
 Falls on the 15 th of September, with the first 500 or 1,000 
 men in light boats, now constructing for that purpose, to be 
 at Natchez between the 5th and 15th of December; there to 
 meet Wilkinson; there to determine whether it will be ex- 
 pedient in the first instance to seize on or pass by Baton Rouge. 
 On receipt of this send an answer. Draw on Burr for all ex- 
 penses, etc. The people of the country to which we are going, 
 are prepared to receive us. Their agents, now with Burr, say, 
 that if we will protect their religion, and will not subject 
 them to a foreign power, that in three weeks all will be settled. 
 The gods invite to glory and fortune; it remains to be seen 
 whether we deserve the boom. The bearer of this goes ex- 
 press to you; he will hand a formal letter of introduction to 
 you from Burr. He is a man of inviolable honor and perfect 
 discretion; formed to execute rather than to project; capable 
 of relating facts with fidelity, and incapable of relating them 
 
Aaron Burr 31 
 
 otherwise. He is thoroughly informed of the plans and in- 
 tentions of Burr, and will disclose to you as far as you in- 
 quire and no further. He has imbibed a reverence for your 
 character, and may be embarrassed in your presence. Put him 
 at ease, and he will satisfy you. 
 
 For further assurance Swartwout gave Wilkinson 
 a letter from Jonathan Dayton, another friend of the 
 general and of Burr, reading : 
 
 Dear Sir: It is now well ascertained that you are to be 
 displaced in next session. Jefferson will affect to yield reluc- 
 tantly to the public sentiment, but yield he will. Prepare your- 
 self, therefore, for it. You know the rest. You are not a man 
 to despair, or even despond, especially when such prospects offer 
 in another quarter. Are you ready? Are your numerous as- 
 sociates ready? Wealth and glory, Louisiana and Mexico! I 
 shall have time to receive a letter from you before I set out 
 for Ohio. Address one to me here, and another in Cincinnati. 
 Receive and treat my nephew affectionately as you would re- 
 ceive your friend. 
 
 Dayton. 
 
 Does it seem possible that a man of Burr's astute- 
 ness, or one of Dayton's experience, would write such 
 letters, except to a thoroughly committed associate? 
 Certainly no conspirator was ever in a more critical 
 position. Wilkinson had either led Burr on, or the 
 latter had assumed too much. In any event, the crisis 
 was at hand; just how near Wilkinson did not know. 
 He lost no time in deciding to betray his devoted 
 friend. Spending much of the night deciphering the 
 message, he called in Colonel Cushing, his second in 
 command, and revealed the contents of the letter, so 
 
32 Aaron Burr 
 
 far as he had been able to translate it — which was 
 far enough — as Wilkinson put it, to discover that 
 Burr's object was "treasonable." Swartwout was en- 
 tertained in camp by the dissembling warrior, until 
 October 1 8th, when he departed for New Orleans to 
 await, quite unsuspectingly, the arrival of the flotilla. 
 Wilkinson, meanwhile, with almost uncanny craft, 
 caused Lieutenant Smith to "resign" as a cover to his 
 being sent as a messenger to President Jefferson, with 
 a full revelation of the plot. For this purpose he gave 
 the young man $500, and hurried him off. Some sort 
 of a note he also wrote Burr, but recalled it. 
 
 The revelation reached Jefferson on November 25, 
 1806. He issued a proclamation on November 27th, 
 warning against unlawful enterprises. He did not 
 name Burr, nor had Wilkinson done so in his dis- 
 patches. By whatever form of persuasion, he and the 
 Spanish commander agreed not to fight, and the lat- 
 ter took his departure from the border with all his 
 men. Returning to New Orleans, the general began 
 preparations with much noise to defend that city from 
 his former associate. He proclaimed martial law, 
 warned the British admiral at Jamaica of the coming 
 of the filibusters (with whom he was supposed to be 
 allied), and in public addresses, managed to create im- 
 mense excitement, taking pains all the while to cover 
 his own tracks well. The whole city put itself under 
 arms, and the streets were watched by a night patrol. 
 Stockades were thrown up and outposts established. 
 Swartwout, his friend, young Ogden, General John 
 Adair and Dr. Bollman, were found in the city, ar- 
 rested and sent by schooner to Baltimore, whence they 
 
Aaron Burr 33 
 
 were taken to Washington and discharged for lack of 
 evidence. 
 
 Meanwhile, no army came to seize New Orleans 
 and Burr's friends in the city bestirred themselves. The 
 florid general was soon made to appear ridiculous. The 
 Grand Jury denounced his measures as illegal and un- 
 constitutional. Jefferson complimented him and he 
 withstood the clamor. 
 
 The Government now began to look up Burr. One 
 Graham, a special secret agent, was sent to Marietta 
 to find out what was going on. He pretended to be a 
 recruit, and the joyous Blennerhassett told him all he 
 knew. On his report the Governor of Ohio called out 
 the militia and captured the fifteen bateaux. Word of 
 this reaching the island, and expecting a raid, the party 
 there assembled slipped away down the river, leaving 
 Mrs. B. to follow with her children. The militia called 
 and wrecked the beautiful mansion. 
 
 Burr was on a visit to Nashville, when the Presi- 
 dent's proclamation arrived. He left hurriedly and 
 met the men from the island at the mouth of the Cum- 
 berland. They were but few. He did not dream that 
 Wilkinson had betrayed him, and went openly down the 
 river, making calls on friends until, reaching Bayou 
 Pierre, thirty miles north of Natchez, he learned the 
 truth and faced a proclamation of the Governor of 
 Mississippi calling for his capture. He issued a counter 
 reply, but a force was sent against him. He surren- 
 dered his person, gave bail in $10,000 to await action 
 of the Grand Jury, which promptly released him, with 
 a presentment denouncing military arrests. The court 
 refused to dismiss the case and Burr slipped across the 
 
34 Aaron Burr 
 
 river, with the purpose of reaching the Spanish settle- 
 ment at Pensacola. The men were held a while and 
 then scattered, many remaining in the neighborhood, 
 supplying it, as the attorney general observed, with 
 "a superfluity of schoolmasters, dancing masters and 
 music masters." 
 
 Burr, halting on his way, was identified at Wake- 
 field, Alabama, and detained while word was sent to 
 Capt. E. P. Gaines of Fort Stoddard, who waylaid the 
 adventurer on the road out of the village the next 
 morning and arrested him "at the instance of the Fed- 
 eral Government." He was taken to the fort a prisoner 
 and sent overland to Richmond, where he was indicted 
 for treason and put in the penitentiary for safe-keeping 
 until time for trial. 
 
 John Marshall, a Federalist, was the presiding 
 judge. William Wirt prosecuted. Edmund Randolph, 
 John Wickham and Luther Martin led the defense. It 
 was a great trial, but no overt act could be proven 
 against Burr, and the jury brought in a verdict of not 
 guilty. Indicted for misdemeanor, he was also acquitted 
 on the ground that the offense, if any, was committed 
 in Ohio. The case against Burr failing, such of his as- 
 sociates as were accused, also went free. 
 
 Keen judge of character as Burr was deemed to be, 
 he erred sadly in making Wilkinson his confidant. 
 How far he had been led to believe that the general ac- 
 cepted his plans and proposed to promote them was 
 never made plain by either. At the Richmond trial, 
 Burr was contemptuous of his old comrade, but did 
 not flay him. Wilkinson was a fussy witness and his 
 revelations were minimized by his admission that he 
 
Aaron Burr 35 
 
 had made some alterations in the text of the cipher let- 
 ter, though these did not, apparently affect its mean- 
 ing. At any rate, after the acquittal of Burr, Wilkinson 
 was much discredited. He was kept under fire. Many 
 believed that he had sold Burr twice — once to the 
 Spanish Viceroy of Mexico, and once to Thomas Jef- 
 ferson. 
 
 It was openly charged that, after the suppression of 
 Burr's attempt, Wilkinson sent one Walter Burling to 
 the Spanish Viceroy with a bill for $200,000, to com- 
 pensate himself for services rendered Spain in heading 
 off the raid. In support, the widow of the Viceroy re- 
 peated this story to Col. Richard Raynal Keene, an of- 
 ficer in the Mexican service. Father Patrick Mangan, 
 an Irish priest who acted as interpreter for Burling, 
 gave like testimony. He said the request was "con- 
 temptuously refused" by the Viceroy, who expelled the 
 emissary from Mexico. Colonel Keene, who became a 
 lawyer in New Orleans, put his statement on record in 
 his own affidavit, together with a statement signed by 
 the lady. These, with Dr. Mangan's declaration, were 
 placed on file in New Orleans. It was further averred 
 that Wilkinson had been in receipt of a pension or some 
 sort of allowance from Spain. His position became so 
 unpleasant that he gave up the command of the Army, 
 December 18, 1809, and remained on waiting orders 
 until September 2, 18 n, when he was placed on trial 
 before a court martial at Frederickstown, Maryland, 
 on a charge of receiving bribes from the Spanish gov- 
 ernment. The trial lasted until December 25, 181 1. He 
 was acquitted and restored to command in the Louisi- 
 ana territory, with headquarters at New Orleans. His 
 
36 Aaron Burr 
 
 services to Jefferson evidently stood him in good stead 
 with President James Madison. 
 
 When freed after the fiasco Burr made his way to 
 Europe, where he spent five years in wandering. He 
 earned the distinction of being held in Paris by Napo- 
 leon, getting away at last through the kindly interces- 
 sion of James Madison. His lovely daughter, Theo- 
 dosia Burr Alston, was lost at sea with a vessel that left 
 no trace behind. Some think she was sunk by pirates. 
 There were plenty of them about at the time operating 
 out of the Cuban keys. 
 
 Burr came back to New York bowed with grief and 
 older than his years. Active hostility had died down, 
 but he had lost his place in the parade. Setting up as a 
 lawyer, mistrust kept his dockets small and he eked out 
 only a poor living, much hunted by creditors and 
 shunned*by all but a faithful few. When seventy-eight, 
 nearly fifty years after his first marriage, he wedded 
 Madame Jumel, a rich and ancient dame. The union 
 was, naturally, unhappy. The town laughed at the al- 
 liance of the venerable lovers, and the lady put him out 
 of her great mansion on Washington Heights. Septem- 
 ber 14, 1836, his blighted life came to an end at the 
 age of eighty years, seven months and eight days. He 
 is buried at Princeton, under a block of marble on 
 which is carved: 
 
 Aaron Burr 
 
 Born February 6th, 1756 
 
 Died September 14th, 1836. 
 
 A Colonel in the Army of the Revolution 
 
 Vice-President of the United States from 1801 to 1805 
 
Aaron Burr 37 
 
 With all the turmoil of his days, he died gently, 
 "without a struggle or a sigh," a man without a coun- 
 try, yet loving the one that had spurned him as few 
 men do ! 
 
II 
 
 WILLIAM H. CRAWFORD 
 
 LAST OF A DYNASTY 
 
 THOUGH party government prevails in the 
 United States the Constitution does not pro- 
 vide for it. Under it States choose electors in 
 such manner as their legislators may decree. In the be- 
 ginning the man receiving the highest number of votes 
 became President, the next highest, Vice-President. 
 After Jefferson's contest with Burr he inserted Article 
 XII, by which each office is made distinctive in selec- 
 tion. "The Electors" it states "shall meet in their re- 
 spective states and vote by ballot for President and 
 Vice-President one of whom at least shall not be a resi- 
 dent of the same state with themselves" — just why is 
 not now clear, unless to prevent domination by some 
 powerful unit, such as Virginia was. 
 
 There were no conventions. Candidates were se- 
 lected for the Electors to vote upon by Congressional 
 caucuses. So "King Caucus" came into being and grew 
 to be very offensive. This was of course "representa- 
 tive government" that never represented. Under the 
 system a dynasty was natural. Men took turns instead 
 of going before the people. By this method Thomas 
 Jefferson extinguished Federalism. During his eight 
 years in office he constructed his "Republican" party, 
 
 38 
 
William H. Crawford 39 
 
 now the Democratic. It was more a name than an in- 
 stitution. When his term expired he replaced himself 
 with James Madison for eight more years. The Fed- 
 eralists of New England had tried to organize a 
 Northern Secession at Hartford in December, 1814, 
 and were too discredited to affect the choice of Madi- 
 son's successor. 
 
 In 1 8 16 the successorship to Madison lay between 
 William H. Crawford of Georgia and James Monroe 
 of Virginia. There was already dissent over the long 
 rule of Virginia and surviving Federalists in New Eng- 
 land were eager to break the chain. They were impo- 
 tent, however, as were the Republicans of the North 
 who fell in behind Governor Daniel D. Tompkins of 
 New York as their choice, with Crawford second. A 
 caucus of Republican members of Congress met to pick 
 the man whom the Electors were expected to ratify. 
 Tompkins was out of it from the start, so the opposi- 
 tion to Virginia concentrated on Crawford. He re- 
 ceived fifty-four votes, Monroe sixty-five. Tompkins 
 was named for Vice-President, while Crawford was 
 kept content with an assurance that he would be per- 
 mitted to succeed Monroe. 
 
 Monroe was swallowed but with some gagging. In 
 commenting upon the choice, Aaron Burr had written 
 his son-in-law, Governor Joseph Alston of South Caro- 
 lina, that the congressional caucus nominations were 
 "hostile to all freedom and independence of suffrage" 
 while "a certain junta of actual and factitious Virgin- 
 ians, having had possession of the government for 
 thirty-four years, consider the United States as their 
 property, and by bawling 'support the administration' 
 
40 William H. Crawford 
 
 have so long succeeded in duping the Republican pub- 
 lic." Benton asserts that "a generous and honorable 
 feeling would not allow Crawford to become the com- 
 petitor of his friend," Monroe. That is to say he did 
 not compete with him in the electoral college, having 
 been definitely assured that his turn would come next. 
 
 Though he has faded from men's memory, William 
 H. Crawford was a distinguished personage in his day 
 and generation. He was a Virginian by birth, coming 
 into the world in Nelson County, February 24, 1772. 
 In 1779 his father removed to Stevens Creek, Edge- 
 field district, South Carolina. Here he suffered at Brit- 
 ish hands during the Revolution, being kept some 
 months in Camden jail. In 1783 he settled with his fam- 
 ily on Kiokee Creek, in Georgia. The boy William had 
 a scant education, but enough to do a little teaching 
 himself. Dr. Moses Waddell opening Carmel Acad- 
 emy, at Columbia, he entered and took a classical 
 course, for two years, acting as usher during the sec- 
 ond year. In 1796 and 1797 he was English instructor 
 at Richmond Academy and in 1798 became Rector 
 thereof. All this time he studied law and was admitted 
 to the bar in 1798, entirely self taught. He set up an 
 office in Oglethorpe County, practicing in what was 
 called the Western circuit, soon becoming its leading 
 lawyer. For four years he represented the county in the 
 Georgia legislature. He was appointed to the United 
 States Senate in 1807 and elected at the end of his 
 term. He was the "Ajax of the Senate" according to 
 Thomas H. Benton "and was the conspicuous mark in 
 the body then pre-eminent for its able men. He had a 
 copious, ready and powerful elocution and had con- 
 
Photograph by Herbert Photos., Inc. 
 
 WILLIAM H. CRAWFORD 
 
William H. Crawford 41 
 
 tinually on his hands the splendid array of Federal 
 gentlemen who then held empire in the Senate cham- 
 ber. Senatorial debate was of a high order then — a 
 rivalship of courtesy as well as of talent; and the feel- 
 ing of respect for him was not less in the embattled 
 phalanx of opposition than in the admiring ranks of 
 his own party." 
 
 He had scoffed at Madison's hesitation in going to 
 extremes with England but won the profound regard of 
 the President through standing firmly by him in the 
 war-time of 18 12-13, and was selected to be Minister 
 to France. It was his preference to remain in the Sen- 
 ate. He told Madison truly that if he left it, the admin- 
 istration would lose that body, but the President felt 
 his firm mind and steadiness of purpose were needed 
 in Paris. Accordingly he accepted the mission, while 
 Madison lost the Senate. As Thomas H. Benton well 
 put it: "Great events took place while he was there. 
 The great Emperor fell; the Bourbons came up and 
 fell. The Emperor re-appeared and fell again. But the 
 interests of the United States were kept untangled in 
 European politics; and the American Minister was the 
 only one that could remain at his post in all these sud- 
 den changes. At the marvelous return from Elba he 
 was the sole foreign representative remaining in Paris. 
 Personating the neutrality of his country with decorum 
 and firmness, he succeeded in commanding the respect 
 of all, giving offence to none." 
 
 His great size and grand manner greatly impressed 
 Napoleon. When he was presented at court the Em- 
 peror "complimented the Americans present upon the 
 grand air of their representative." Returning from 
 
42 William H. Crawford 
 
 France in 1815 he served Madison briefly as Secretary 
 of War and in 18 16, as Secretary of the Treasury. 
 President Monroe re-appointed him to this office, a 
 post he filled during the eight years of the latter's in- 
 cumbency. The country was without a banking or cur- 
 rancy system save for a meager coinage and local note 
 issues. Crawford therefore felt the need of a United 
 States Bank, not only to facilitate the workings of the 
 Treasury but to give the country a fiscal system that 
 could be relied upon to handle its business safely. His 
 influence procured a charter for the institution which 
 was to be destroyed by Andrew Jackson, in an era 
 when Jeffersonian "Republicans" had given way to 
 Jacksonian Democracy. 
 
 Crawford's position in the powerful office of Secre- 
 tary of the Treasury enabled him to build up strong 
 support for himself in Congress. He caused a tenure 
 act, fixing official terms for Federal appointees at four 
 years, to be passed in 1820. For this he was accused of 
 establishing a spoils system. He was not always in ac- 
 cord with Monroe who thought his secretaries should 
 act in harmony with his views, or remain quiescent. 
 Crawford replied that he exercised his personal rights 
 and not his official ones in his attitude and with this 
 Monroe had to be satisfied. The man was always inde- 
 pendent. Though from the South he had joined in the 
 Federalist objection to Jefferson's embargo policy. He 
 had previously stood by President John Adams in his 
 anti-French attitude. Though Monroe accepted Craw- 
 ford's assurance there was considerable belief that he 
 was trying to form a new party — indeed one was badly 
 needed. John C. Calhoun, who was Secretary of War, 
 
William H. Crawford 43 
 
 »^ — — — — ■ 
 
 was Crawford's rival in the leadership of the farther 
 South. Naturally the two did not get on well. The Pres- 
 ident really had too much talent in his official family. 
 He could not control it, nor could he devise policies all 
 would accept. Even the Monroe Doctrine had a hard 
 time a-borning. 
 
 Crawford sat serenely in the Treasury awaiting his 
 turn at the Presidency with every assurance of success, 
 only to be suddenly surprised by the appearance in the 
 field of a swarm of candidates. The most formidable 
 of these were Andrew Jackson, of Tennessee, John 
 Quincy Adams, of Massachusetts, and John C. Cal- 
 houn of South Carolina. Adams had forsaken Feder- 
 alism and become a Jeffersonian. Coincident with the 
 coming of these rivals into the arena, Crawford was 
 stricken with paralysis. He held on to his office as Sec- 
 retary of the Treasury but was confined to a house in 
 the country and had to leave his campaign to the ef- 
 forts of others. 
 
 Jackson came to the encounter as an avowed enemy. 
 When Secretary of War for Madison, Crawford had 
 decided against the general in favor of a claim made by 
 the Cherokees for a share in lands from which the 
 Creeks had been dispossessed by him. This Crawford 
 did after hearing both sides, leaving Jackson to feel 
 that he had been humiliated before his foes. Again, 
 when Jackson's aggressions against the Spanish in 
 Florida came under question in Madison's cabinet it 
 was urged by John C. Calhoun, Secretary of War, that 
 Jackson should be put under arrest and held for a 
 court of inquiry. The step was not taken, but the sug- 
 gestion leaked out, through a Nashville newspaper. 
 
44 William H. Crawford 
 
 credited, however, to Crawford, who, if aware of it, 
 did not deny it at the time for the excellent reason that 
 Cabinet secrets could not be discussed by members. If 
 Calhoun knew of the mistake in Jackson's mind he did 
 not rectify it. So it festered, with consequences. Craw- 
 ford's partisans concealed his true condition. He was 
 bolstered up and driven in a carriage through the 
 streets of Washington to show that he was alive and 
 almost well. His physician put out a bulletin in Janu- 
 ary, 1824, affirming that he had conquered his malady 
 and was sure to recover. His faithful friend, Joseph 
 B. Cobb, knew better, though aiding in the pretense. 
 u As an honest man" he confessed afterwards, "I am 
 bound to admit that Crawford's health though im- 
 proving affords cause for objection. He is very fat, but 
 his speech and vision are imperfect and the paralysis 
 of his hand continues. His speech improves slowly. His 
 right eye is so improved that he sees well enough to 
 play whist as well as an old man without spectacles. 
 His hand also gets stronger. Yet defect in all these 
 members is but too evident." 
 
 Crawford hurriedly sought to repair damages by 
 making a combination with New York through Martin 
 Van Buren, that would ensure control of the electoral 
 college. "Crawford" records Joseph B. Cobb, "being 
 at the head of a dominant and powerful party in Geor- 
 gia, resolved upon a stroke of policy, which unseemly 
 as it might and did appear even to his own friends, it 
 was hoped might win to his support the great state of 
 New York. This was none other than the nomination of 
 Van Buren for the Vice-Presidency by the state of 
 Georgia. The project was no sooner made known than 
 
William H. Crawford 45 
 
 carried out, for Crawford's wish was law to his party 
 in that state. The nomination was made reluctantly by 
 the Crawford party, and was received with laughter 
 and ridicule by his old enemies in Georgia, the Clark- 
 ites." 
 
 These reprehensible persons went so far as to make 
 all manner of fun of Van Buren, caricaturing him as 
 half man, half fox, or half mink, half snake, and some- 
 times half monkey. In short the choice was vilified and 
 ridiculed beyond measure. If this tactical error were 
 not enough Crawford was basely attacked from the 
 rear by what became known as u the A. B. Plot." On 
 April 19, 1823, Henry Clay, Speaker of the House, 
 laid before that body a letter from Ninian Edwards, 
 late senator from Illinois, recently appointed Minister 
 to Mexico. En route for his post he had paused on the 
 way to indite a series of charges against the Secretary 
 of the Treasury. There were six counts, serious enough 
 to secure impeachment. All of them Edwards declared 
 could be proven. These were backed up by a cluster of 
 newspaper clippings signed "A. B." Edwards explained 
 that he was the author of the articles, all of which had 
 been published in a Washington newspaper opposed to 
 Crawford's candidacy and supporting that of John C. 
 Calhoun. It was edited by a clerk in the War Depart- 
 ment of which Calhoun was Secretary, and obviously a 
 campaign canard. Edwards asked for an investigation, 
 just as Congress was about to adjourn and being him- 
 self out of reach was voted to have played a scurvy 
 trick in the behest of Calhoun. The friends of Craw- 
 ford asked at once for the appointment of an investi- 
 gating committee. It was named and sent the sergeant- 
 
46 William H. Crawford 
 
 at-arms after the accusing Edwards. He was overtaken 
 1500 miles from Washington and brought back, but 
 not until Congress had adjourned and Crawford had 
 supplied the committee with what John Randolph of 
 Roanoke called "a triumphant and irresistible vindica- 
 tion; the most temperate, passionless, mild, dignified 
 and irrefragible exposure of falsehood that ever met 
 a base accusation, and without a harsh word towards 
 their author." 
 
 The convened committee made up a report fully 
 exonerating Crawford before Edwards appeared. It 
 examined him, however, but he could prove nothing. 
 The committee then issued a supplementary report 
 to the effect "that nothing had been proved to impeach 
 the integrity of the Secretary or to bring into doubt the 
 general correctness and ability of his administration of 
 the public finances." When the testimony was given 
 out it appeared that Edwards had denied the author- 
 ship of the articles and recanted his charges. He re- 
 signed his appointment to Mexico and went back to 
 hide in Illinois. His son Ninian W. Edwards became 
 a brother-in-law of Abraham Lincoln. 
 
 Thomas Jefferson, who admired Crawford, wrote 
 to Richard Rush concerning the U A. B." conspiracy in 
 June, 1824: "A baseless and malicious attack on Mr. 
 Crawford has produced from him so clear, so incon- 
 trovertible and so temperate a justification of himself 
 as to have added much to the strength of his interest. 
 The question will ultimately be, as I suggested in a 
 former letter to you, between Crawford and Adams, 
 with this in favor of Crawford, that although many 
 states have a different first favorite, he is the second, 
 
William H. Cra wford 47 
 
 with nearly all, and that if it goes into the Legislature 
 he will surely be elected." 
 
 The sage of Monticello, it will be perceived, took 
 no cognizance of Andrew Jackson nor conceived the 
 part to be taken by Henry Clay. 
 
 It is possible that the urbanity of Crawford's dis- 
 claimer was due to Asbury Dickens, a Treasury clerk, 
 who wrote it, for the Secretary's hand could not then 
 or thereafter hold a pen. 
 
 It had not been his policy to deal tenderly with tra- 
 ducers. He had fought a duel with Peter Lawrence 
 Van Allen, solicitor general of the Western circuit, and 
 killed him. Van Allen came from New York and w T as 
 a relative of Martin Van Buren. In another affair of 
 honor with John C. Clark, governor of Georgia, a po- 
 litical foe, the governor was the better shot and 
 wounded the statesman. He also continued to be his 
 opponent and the "Clarkites" mentioned by Cobb were 
 his following. 
 
 With a caucus impending, Washington swarmed 
 with politicians during February, 1824, there to bring 
 all possible pressure upon the congressmen who were 
 to control it. The excitement broke up the business of 
 Congress. All of the candidates except Crawford were 
 opposed to a caucus, wishing to go openly before the 
 electoral delegates. The country at large and the news- 
 papers were mainly of the same mind. The paralytic 
 alone was unchanged. 
 
 Twenty-four members of Congress signed a notice 
 in which they expressed themselves as deeming it in- 
 expedient "to meet in caucus and name candidates for 
 President and Vice-President." At the same time ten 
 
48 William H. Crawford 
 
 members signed a call for a caucus to be held on July 
 14th. It met in public but only a few spectators at- 
 tended what was to be the last gathering of its kind. 
 In all sixty-six congressmen were present, representing 
 besides two proxies. In the balloting that followed 
 Crawford received sixty-four votes, John Quincy 
 Adams two, Andrew Jackson one and Nathaniel Ma- 
 con one. Albert Gallatan was named for Vice-Presi- 
 dent by a vote of fifty-seven. The two were declared 
 the regular Republican nominees. They were not ac- 
 cepted. Various conventions were held over the coun- 
 try in which Jackson and Adams led with John C. Cal- 
 houn for Vice-President on both tickets. Calhoun had 
 ambitions to lead but withdrew in favor of Jackson. 
 It was all very spotty and irregular, but a scramble 
 towards the light. It killed King Caucus. 
 
 The fight for electors became country-wide and for 
 the first time the nation had a presidential campaign, 
 the candidates in which however were all of one po- 
 litical breed, but varying much in their views. Gallatin, 
 who was one of the great financiers of history, was a 
 Swiss and was so fiercely assailed as a foreigner that 
 he was taken off the ticket by Crawford's managers, 
 who sought thus to aid him. The throwing over of 
 Jonah could not save the ship. When the electors were 
 chosen in this helter-skelter fashion, aside from being 
 pretty solid for Calhoun the rest was confusion. Jack- 
 son had some for Vice-President, an office with which 
 he was not concerned. Only two states were for Craw- 
 ford, Virginia and his own Georgia. New York gave 
 him five out of twenty-six, so little had the Van Buren 
 deal availed. Delaware and Maryland sent him two 
 
William H. Crawford 49 
 
 and one respectively. All told, the expectant heir had 
 but forty-one electors to his credit. The remaining 
 vote split 84 for Adams, 99 for Jackson and 37 for 
 Henry Clay. Jackson was sure of success but guessed 
 wrongly. There was no choice and the election was 
 thrown into the House which was to act on February 
 9, 1825, making its selection from the three highest, 
 which excluded Clay. 
 
 They brought Crawford to the Capitol to exhibit 
 him to Congress. Though but fifty-one he was tottering 
 and prematurely old. "It had now been a long time" 
 wrote Cobb, in making his mournful chronicle, "since 
 he had mingled with the public * * * only a select 
 and intimate few were in the habit of visiting him 
 even at his home. A few days previous to the 
 time of election, however, and to the surprise 
 of nearly all Washington, his friends conveyed 
 him to the Capitol and kept him there in company 
 for several hours. The old man looked better than 
 was generally expected and deported himself with 
 accustomed amenity and dignity. Many who saw 
 him only from a distance were agreeably disap- 
 pointed. Those with whom he shook hands and spoke, 
 however, were observed to leave him with grave faces 
 and with all the signs and tokens of a melancholy in- 
 terview. Among the last was Clay himself and it was 
 afterwards remarked by one of Crawford's friends, 
 who was present, that his manner on that occasion 
 told plainly enough that their hopes of his co-opera- 
 tion and support were at an end." 
 
 They were, indeed, and the situation was in the 
 hands of Clay. Bear in mind that at this time all the 
 
50 William H. Crawford 
 
 parties concerned were "Republicans." Clay had be- 
 fore leaving home declared that he would not vote 
 for Jackson. The fatal 9th of February came to hand. 
 A tense crowd filled the galleries, among them many 
 friends of Crawford, daring to hope against hope. 
 Daniel Webster and John Randolph were appointed 
 Tellers. The vote was by ballot. When Webster and 
 Randolph announced the result the crowd was stunned. 
 Crawford received the vote of Delaware, North Car- 
 olina, Georgia and Virginia; Jackson that of seven 
 states, although eleven had voted for him, while John 
 Quincy Adams had the support of thirteen, two of 
 which, Maryland and Illinois, had gone for Jackson in 
 the election. Three Clay states, Kentucky, Ohio and 
 Missouri, went to Adams. Henry Clay had made a 
 President and there began the cleavage that was to 
 separate the body politic into Democrats and Whigs. 
 Three followers of Crawford, Messers Cobb, Ma- 
 con and Lowrey, girded themselves to break the tid- 
 ings to their chief. They found him calmly sitting in 
 his easy chair, while one of the family read to him 
 from a newspaper. According to Cobb : "Macon sa- 
 luted him and made known the result with delicacy 
 though with ill-concealed feeling. The invalid states- 
 man gave a look of profound surprise and remained 
 silent and pensive for many minutes, evidently school- 
 ing his mind to a becoming tolerance of the event 
 which had forever thwarted his political elevation. 
 He then entered fully into conversation and com- 
 mented on circumstances of the election as though he 
 had never been known as a candidate. He even jested 
 and rallied his friend Cobb, whose excess of feeling 
 
William H. Crawford 5X 
 
 had forbidden him to see Crawford until the shock 
 had passed (Macon and Lowrey first going in) — for 
 he knew the enfeebled veteran would be shocked. 
 * * * Crawford himself refrained from giving utter- 
 ance to the least exceptionable sentiment, and behaved, 
 during the remainder of his stay in Washington, with 
 a mildness and an urbanity befitting one in his exalted 
 station, who had just staked and lost his political for- 
 tune." 
 
 Adams generously offered to retain Crawford in the 
 Treasuryship but he declined and resigned on March 
 3, 1825. He was in the prime of life but the paralysis 
 prevented his again assuming large activities. He 
 therefore returned to Georgia. There in 1827, Gover- 
 nor Troup appointed him Judge of the Northern Cir- 
 cuit, to fill a vacancy caused by the death of Judge 
 Dooly. In 1828 the Legislature unanimously elected 
 him to the same office. 
 
 His home was at Woodlawn, a pleasant estate three 
 miles from Lexington on the high road to Athens. 
 Here he lived the agreeable life of one held in great 
 esteem. He kept his hand on state affairs and re- 
 strained Georgia from joining South Carolina in its 
 nullification movement. He was all for the Union. 
 
 Taken ill while on the circuit in Elbert County, he 
 died September 15, 1834, in his sixty-third year, hav- 
 ing spent thirty years in public life. 
 
 He was among the few men of fame [wrote Thomas H. 
 Benton in recording his demise] that I have seen, that ag- 
 grandized on the approach — that having the reputation of a 
 great man became greater as he was more closely examined. 
 There was everything about him to impress the beholder fa- 
 
52 William H. Crawford 
 
 vorably and grandly — he stood a head and shoulders above 
 the common race of men, justly proportioned, open counte- 
 nance, manly features, ready and impressive conversation, frank, 
 cordial manners. * * * He seemed to compare favorably with 
 the foremost and that was the judgment of others. For a long 
 time he was deferred to generally by public opinion, as the 
 first of the new men who were to become President. Mr. 
 Monroe, the last of the Revolutionary stock, was passing off; 
 Mr. Crawford was his assured successor. Had the election 
 come one term sooner he would have been the selected man: 
 but his very eminence became fatal to him. He was formidable 
 to all the candidates and all combined against him. 
 
 Jabez Hammond in his Political History of New 
 York says of Mr. Crawford: u He was possessed of a 
 vigorous intellect, strictly honest and honorable in his 
 political conduct, sternly independent, and of great 
 decision of character." 
 
 Though Crawford never reached the White House, 
 his silver service did. On leaving Washington and hav- 
 ing small use for it in Georgia, Asbury Dickens, act- 
 ing for him sold it to the Government and it was sent 
 to adorn the State dinners given by John Quincy 
 Adams. 
 
Ill 
 
 JOHN C. CALHOUN 
 
 FATHER OF NULLIFICATION 
 
 IN the caucus that named Crawford to such small 
 purpose, John Caldwell Calhoun of South Caro- 
 lina, had also been a candidate for the first place. 
 Pennsylvania sponsored him but withdrew his name 
 when it was plain that Crawford had the votes. How 
 he was elected Vice-President in 1824 had been nar- 
 rated. He slipped softly into the chair amid all the 
 turmoil and during the four years of Adams' admin- 
 istration, while the President and Henry Clay were 
 disuniting the Jeffersonians, sat as presiding officer of 
 the Senate. Calhoun kept out of the new alignment and 
 when Adams was again in the field, stood with An- 
 drew Jackson and was named for Vice-President a 
 second time, with the Hero of New Orleans, Adams 
 taking Richard Rush, of Pennsylvania as a running 
 mate. In the election Jackson and Calhoun won, with 
 178 electoral votes to 83 for Adams. Crawford, who 
 was still of some consequence pulled seven of the nine 
 electors from Georgia away from Calhoun and they 
 were cast for William Smith of that state. Calhoun, 
 who had been largely a law unto himself under Adams, 
 was not destined to be so comfortable with Jackson. 
 Calhoun's character has been described as one of 
 
 55 
 
54 John C. Calhoun 
 
 the utmost probity and his dangerous thoughts as the 
 Japanese call revolutionary opinion, are apologized 
 for as the products of an unusually honest mind. Some 
 established facts fail to bear this out. The "A. B." 
 conspiracy against Crawford could hardly have gone 
 on without his sanction, and he further misused that 
 honorable gentleman as the sequel will show. But of 
 his exceptional abilities there can be no doubt. 
 
 "That young man," said President Theodore 
 Dwight of Yale, to a friend, pointing out Calhoun, 
 "has talents enough to become President of the 
 United States." Graduating from Yale in 1804, where 
 his intellect had won him this encomium, he went to 
 Litchfield, Conn., and there studied law at the school 
 maintained by Tapping Reeve, brother-in-law of Aaron 
 Burr, whence came many able barristers. He had been 
 born in Abbeville District, South Carolina, March 18, 
 1782, son of Patrick Calhoun, an immigrant from 
 County Donegal, Ireland. Returning home he began 
 the practice of law at Abbeville. He was elected to 
 the South Carolina legislature for a term covering 
 1807-9, and in 181 1 was sent to Congress. Here he 
 joined Henry Clay in the demand for war with Great 
 Britain. Though but thirty he soon made his mark, de- 
 bating brilliantly with no less antagonist than John 
 Randolph, of Roanoke, who was opposed to the war. 
 To Calhoun the rights of America were "essentially 
 attacked," and war u the only means of redress." 
 
 Thus it will be seen the young man was at the mo- 
 ment an ardent Nationalist. June 24, 18 12, he de- 
 parted far from the principle doctrines of Jefferson by 
 opposing strenuously the proposition that America 
 
John C. Calhoun 55 
 
 should sit safely inside its own fence. The "restrictive 
 system," he said truly enough, "does not suit the genius 
 of our people, or that of our government, or the geog- 
 raphy or character of our country" — thus completely 
 reversing Jefferson, who believed the nation self- 
 sufficient within itself. "We have had a peace like 
 war," he exclaimed, "In the name of Heaven let us 
 not have the only thing that is worse — a war like 
 peace." 
 
 Personally Calhoun, though the father of fire-eat- 
 ing, had no great appetite for flame, though in a dis- 
 pute with Thomas P. Grosvenor, of New York, while 
 both were in Congress, such heat was developed as to 
 promise a duel. It was prevented by the earnest inter- 
 cession of friends. In early South Carolina political 
 contention he found himself in opposition to William 
 L. Yancey. Calhoun's cutting tongue had the best of 
 the argument, so much so that Uncle Jacob Marvin, 
 a Yancey partisan, determined to waylay the con- 
 queror and beat him up. He took his post in Calhoun's 
 path as he was walking up and down a hotel piazza 
 and prepared for the clinch. Calhoun who had been 
 warned of his coming, smiled blandly, uttered a kindly 
 salutation and continued his exercise, quite expecting 
 an assault. Instead Marvin stood fascinated, then 
 broke into tears and begged pardon for his ill intent. 
 Thereafter he was devoted to the erstwhile enemy. 
 
 Calhoun played an important part in Congress. 
 Chairman of the Committee on National Currency, he 
 introduced the measure that led to the establishment 
 of the Bank of the United States. He also declared for 
 a protective tariff in support of American industries. 
 
56 John C. Calhoun 
 
 "It is the duty of this country," he averred in January, 
 1816, "to encourage its domestic industry, more espe- 
 cially that part of it which provides the necessary 
 materials for* clothing and defence. England is in pos- 
 session of the sea. * * * That control deprives us of 
 the means of maintaining our army and navy cheaply 
 clad. A certain encouragement should be extended at 
 least to our woolen and cotton manufacturers." The 
 result was our protective tariff, the consequences of 
 which were to sit ill upon no less person than Calhoun 
 himself. The wise Randolph saw that the South could 
 not develop manufactures under slavery as the event 
 proved. He declared that the new duties would fall 
 on "poor men and slave holders" — as they did. 
 
 Calhoun's nationalism showed itself still further in 
 December, 18 16, when he introduced a bill providing 
 national aid for roads. 
 
 When James Monroe succeeded Madison as Pres- 
 ident, Henry Clay was offered the place of Secretary 
 of War in the new cabinet. He declined in a pique at 
 not being made Secretary of State. Monroe then 
 named Calhoun for the post. He promptly accepted. 
 John Quincy Adams who was Secretary of State left 
 a judgment of him as U A man of fair and candid mind, 
 of honorable principles, of clear and quick understand- 
 ing, cool self-possession, of enlarged philosophical 
 views, and of ardent patriotism." This was his opinion 
 in 1 82 1. He had to recant a part of it in due season. 
 
 The expansion of the frontier gave the little army 
 plenty to do. Calhoun reached out into the remote 
 northwest, projecting a line of military posts far up 
 the Missouri to the Yellowstone, though getting no 
 
Photograph by Underwood and Underwood 
 
 JOHN C. CALHOUN 
 
John C. Calhoun 57 
 
 farther in the end than Omaha, thanks to official 
 blundering that did no credit to the Secretary of War. 
 
 The Florida troubles broke out during his stay in 
 office and it became his duty to give orders to no less 
 person than Andrew Jackson, which he did in these 
 terms: "You may be prepared to concentrate your 
 forces, and to adopt the necessary measures to termi- 
 nate the conflict which it has been the desire of the 
 President, from considerations of humanity to avoid, 
 but which is now made necessary by their settled hos- 
 tilities." 
 
 Jackson construed this as a broad warrant, which in- 
 deed it was, and went ahead according to his own 
 notions, which were soon to bring him into conflict 
 with the administration and develop a series of conse- 
 quences that will unroll in the course of the narrative. 
 
 As noted, Calhoun was a Nationalist during this pe- 
 riod. Indeed John Quincy Adams said of him in 1819: 
 "He is above all sectional and factious prejudices more 
 than any other statesman of this union with whom I 
 have ever acted." 
 
 In another twelve month Calhoun saw the North 
 and the new West forging fast ahead of the slave- 
 bound South. The two sections were strong enough to 
 force the Missouri Compromise of 1820. The effect 
 of this was not correctly visualized by Calhoun. He 
 saw in it only the exercise of sectional strength to limit 
 the expansion of Southern prosperity as due to slavery. 
 It was the reverse. By making the South solidly slave 
 it killed industrial development and checked only the 
 extension of plantations to regions where slave labor 
 could not have been made profitable. It was anything 
 
58 John C. Calhoun 
 
 but that on the whole, in the South, itself, but this none 
 could discern, or if they did, were not free to point 
 out. 
 
 Calhoun now took alarm and in confidential talks 
 with John Quincy Adams voiced his belief that the 
 South would have to separate and form a defensive 
 alliance with Great Britain. His nationalism began to 
 disappear. 
 
 After William H. Crawford's defeat in 1824, 
 despite Jackson's animus his followers in general had 
 fallen in behind Jackson, while Calhoun also became 
 a strong Jacksonian to all outward appearances, up- 
 holding "the power of the people as against that of 
 political leaders." When he presented himself to be 
 sworn in as Vice-President, Jackson happened to be 
 the senior Senator present in the chamber and admin- 
 istered the oath. Once in the chair Calhoun held him- 
 self quite apart from Adams and often named com- 
 mittees of the Senate of men opposed to his policies 
 and aims. One of the results of this was the election by 
 the Senate of a chairman pro-tem in the 1825—6 ses- 
 sion, to whom the appointing power was transferred. 
 
 When Jackson approached his candidacy for 1828, 
 Crawford, having small use for Calhoun, wrote from 
 his Georgia retreat suggesting that he be dropped in 
 favor of DeWitt Clinton, of New York, as Vice-Pres- 
 ident. This Jackson declined to consider, asserting that 
 Calhoun had been his friend to all appearances for the 
 ten years past and he was disposed to rely upon him as 
 such. Calhoun was therefore given the Democratic 
 nomination and elected. The amity between the two 
 was not destined to long endure. Its end came about 
 
John C. Calhoun 59 
 
 in this fashion: Previous to the General's election, in 
 late December, 1827, William B. Lewis, Jackson's per- 
 sonal political agent chanced to meet Colonel James 
 A. Hamilton, of New York, son of Alexander Hamil- 
 ton, on a Mississippi steamboat. The two discussed the 
 General's chances. Hamilton asked Lewis how Jack- 
 son and Crawford stood. Lewis explained the situa- 
 tion and Hamilton, who was going to Georgia, agreed 
 to see Crawford and get him in line if possible. Lewis 
 heard no more from Hamilton and concluded he had 
 done nothing, until meeting him in New York the 
 Colonel explained that he had missed seeing Craw- 
 ford but had left the matter with Governor John 
 Forsyth of Georgia to clean up. He had heard from 
 Forsyth that "Crawford knew he had been accused of 
 suggesting Jackson's arrest but it was false. No such 
 proposition was ever made by him; but that Mr. Cal- 
 houn did propose his arrest and punishment in some 
 way; showing on various occasions a hostility to his 
 (Jackson's) proceedings in his Seminole campaign." 
 
 Lewis got back to Nashville about June 1, 1828, 
 convinced from his observations that Jackson would 
 win by an overwhelming majority. He therefore kept 
 the Crawford matter to himself u from an apprehen- 
 sion that it might produce an explosion." 
 
 After election friction began between the President 
 and Vice-President. Calhoun tried, wisely, to prevent 
 the naming of Major John H. Eaton as Secretary of 
 War. It would have been fortunate for Jackson had 
 he succeeded, but he did not. 
 
 When Eaton was named the Calhoun forces kept 
 up the warfare which ended in the wreck of the cabinet 
 
60 John C. Calhoun 
 
 and well-nigh ruined the Administration. Jackson con- 
 tinued to look upon Calhoun as one who had been his 
 sincere friend and was more than tolerative. Lewis 
 observed at this juncture, which was before inaugura- 
 tion, that he and many others of Jackson's friends be- 
 lieved that Calhoun was plotting against him. Jack- 
 son's strength had been used to break down Adams 
 and Clay. Now he was to be discarded at the close of 
 his first term to make way for Calhoun, who being in 
 his second term as Vice-President could not expect a 
 third. He did not want to face a four year gap and so 
 covertly instituted a movement to deny Jackson a re- 
 nomination, alleging that he was under pledge to serve 
 but one term. This was easily brushed aside, but the 
 knowledge of it caused more ill-feeling. Jackson's con- 
 fidence in Calhoun was shaken. He was now to learn 
 that he had been mistaken in his faith. Jackson gave a 
 dinner to ex-President Monroe, in the course of which 
 Finch Ringold, United States Marshal of the District 
 of Columbia, remarked to Lewis that Mr. Monroe 
 was the only friend Jackson had in the former's cab- 
 inet. He elaborated his point. The wily Lewis asked 
 the General after dinner if he had heard their con- 
 versation. He had not. He was told its purport and ex- 
 pressed the belief that Ringold was mistaken. 
 
 "I am not sure of that," said Lewis. 
 
 "Why are you not?" asked Jackson. 
 
 "Because I have seen a letter written eighteen 
 months ago, in which Mr. Crawford is represented as 
 saying that you charged him with having taken ground 
 against him in Mr. Monroe's cabinet, but in that you 
 had done him an injustice, for it was not he but Mr. 
 
John C. Calhoun 61 
 
 Calhoun, who was in favor of your being arrested or 
 punished in some other way." 
 
 Jackson was astounded and sent Lewis to New York 
 to bring him the letter. Hamilton preferred to secure 
 Forsyth's consent. When Congress met on March 4, 
 1829, after Jackson's inauguration, the two conferred 
 in Washington and decided to write Crawford. This 
 was done and in due season Crawford responded sus- 
 taining the charge. 
 
 The President at once "called" Calhoun who dis- 
 sembled. "I should be blind," he wrote Jackson, "not 
 to see that this whole affair is a political manoeuvre 
 in which the design is that you should be the instrument 
 and I the victim." 
 
 It was indeed a manoeuvre of rare importance, and 
 he was destined to be the victim. In the end Calhoun 
 lamely admitted that he had made the move in Mon- 
 roe's cabinet, but blamed Crawford for revealing an 
 official secret. Annoyed at having wasted so much 
 hatred on Crawford and at bestowing so much con- 
 fidence in Calhoun Jackson gave the latter a good go- 
 ing over in a letter that concluded: "Understanding 
 you now, no further communication with you on this 
 subject is necessary." 
 
 The break had come, but it was not open. Officially 
 they were on terms. But the Calhoun purpose to sup- 
 plant Jackson at the end of four years was not 
 changed. He pulled away Duff Green, editor of the 
 official Telegraph which led to the establishment of the 
 Globe by Frank P. Blair. Jackson certainly had his 
 hands full, finding himself as Parton puts it, "Early in 
 the first year of his administration engaged in a triple 
 
62 John C. Calhoun 
 
 war, with nullification, the Bank of the United States 
 and the Whig Party." 
 
 The first chance Calhoun had to step on Jackson's 
 toes was in opposing apportioning of surplus national 
 revenue among the states. He was silent on Jackson's 
 bank policy but to quote Jackson in a letter to Judge 
 John Overton u is believed to have encouraged the in- 
 troduction and adoption of the resolutions in the South 
 Carolina legislature relative to the tariff" — a fore- 
 runner of nullification. 
 
 Jackson's heart was set upon a surplus-distribution 
 plan as "the only thing that can allay the jealousies 
 arising between the different sections of the Union, 
 and prevent that flagitious log-rolling legislation which 
 must in the end destroy everything like harmony, if 
 not the Union itself." This measure became law, with- 
 out however preventing the evils he foretold. 
 
 The varying views of Jackson and Calhoun collided 
 most dramatically at a dinner given in Washington, 
 April 13, 1830, to celebrate the birthday of Thomas 
 Jefferson. The President and Vice-President were in- 
 vited guests. Both came. It was a subscription affair 
 and twenty-four toasts were on the program, numbers 
 of which savored of nullification, so much so as to 
 cause comment among the company. Jackson sensed 
 the situation acutely. When all the routine toasts were 
 over, he was called upon to offer one of his own. He 
 rose with his glass and uttered a single sentence: "Our 
 Federal Union: it must be preserved." 
 
 It had the ring of a clarion-call, and sent a thrill 
 through the assemblage that stirred every bosom in 
 warm response, save that of Calhoun, who countered 
 
John C. Calhoun 63 
 
 thus: "The Union: next to our Liberty most dear: 
 may we all remember that it can only be preserved by 
 respecting the rights of the States, and distributing 
 equally the benefit and burthen of the Union." 
 
 In this fashion the doctrine of states rights was pro- 
 claimed. Jackson had been forewarned by a perusal 
 of the program and came ready armed with his toast. 
 That he would preserve the Union was beyond doubt. 
 That his discoveries concerning Calhoun's duplicity 
 added strength to his determination can also be be- 
 lieved. 
 
 Calhoun now proceeded to force the fighting. He 
 circulated a pamphlet printed in the office of Duff 
 Green's Telegraph, which had joined his cause, en- 
 titled "Correspondence between General Andrew Jack- 
 son and John C. Calhoun, President and Vice-Presi- 
 dent of the United States, on the subject of the course 
 of the latter in the deliberations of the cabinet of Mr. 
 Monroe on the occurrence of the Seminole War." It 
 will be perceived that Mr. Calhoun did not regard the 
 Vice-President as a nonentity, a position into which 
 the office drifted thereafter. Jackson wrote "An ex- 
 position of Mr. Calhoun's course toward General 
 Jackson" but never published it, and its main points 
 first came to light in Benton's "Thirty Years' View," 
 twenty years after. The break-up in Jackson's cabinet 
 now followed, credited to the social disturbance over 
 "Peggy" Eaton, wife of the Secretary of War whose 
 father kept a Washington saloon; besides which 
 "Peggy" had the reputation of being rather free with 
 some of his customers. Eaton got out, but the real pit- 
 digger was Calhoun. He turned such a fire on Martin 
 
64 John C. Calhoun 
 
 Van Buren, that he retired. Three, Samuel D. Ingham, 
 Secretary of the Treasury, John Branch, Secretary of 
 the Navy, and John M. Berrien, Attorney General, 
 strong Calhoun supporters, resigned at the President's 
 request, though with testimonials of official esteem. 
 Crawford took a hand in the controversy by saying he 
 had not divulged the cabinet "secret" as the story 
 concerning its discussion of Jackson, had, as already 
 stated, been revealed in a letter to a Nashville news- 
 paper — an incident suspicious in itself, as being Jack- 
 son's home town — but with the facts reversed. He now 
 expressed his belief that this had been the deliberate 
 work of Calhoun designed to destroy his vogue with 
 Jackson, which it did. 
 
 Calhoun himself, while Vice-President in the sum- 
 mer of 183 1, came out in a public defense of nullifi- 
 cation. James Watson Webb giving him the use of five 
 long columns in his New York Courier and Enquirer 
 for the purpose. He held that nullification was the 
 "natural, peaceful and proper remedy" for "an in- 
 tolerable grievance inflicted by Congress upon a state 
 or a section," and cited the tariff of 1828 as such. It 
 was "unconstitutional, unequal in its operation, op- 
 pressive to the South," and "evil, inveterate and dan- 
 gerous." Money was piling up in the Treasury at the 
 expense of the South; "the honest and obvious way" to 
 deal with such a situation was "by a timely and judi- 
 cious reduction of the imposts." He directly opposed 
 Jackson's proposition to soothe the states by dividing 
 the surplus among them. This was "most dangerous 
 and unconstitutional" and certain to create "an an- 
 tagonist interest between the states and general gov- 
 
John C. Calhoun 65 
 
 ernment, on all questions of appropriations, which 
 would certainly end in reducing the latter to a mere 
 office of collection and distribution" while "either of 
 these modes would be considered by the section suffer- 
 ing under the present high duties, as a fixed determina- 
 tion to perpetuate forever what it considers the present 
 unequal, unconstitutional, and oppressive burden; and 
 from that moment, it would cease to look to the gen- 
 eral government for relief." 
 
 This was a plain enough threat of secession and 
 Jackson so regarded it. Calhoun overlooked South 
 Carolina's advantage in slave labor. New England 
 wages were slightly higher than those in Great Britain, 
 but were more than offset in this respect by the unpaid 
 servitors of the South. 
 
 Calhoun became a candidate for President without 
 a party. He was nominated for the office at a public 
 meeting in New York, August 9, 1831, but the move- 
 ment got no further. "I cannot support Clay," he 
 wrote his South Carolina friend, J. H. Hammond, 
 "who, in my opinion, has done great mischief to the 
 country (by the tariff) and I have no confidence in 
 Jackson who is too ignorant, too suspicious and too 
 weak to conduct our affairs successfully." Hardly a 
 sound estimate of "Old Hickory" who was soon to 
 completely confute it. He was also guilty of a bad 
 piece of politics in breaking a tie and so rejecting the 
 nomination of Martin Van Buren as minister to Eng- 
 land, whither he had already gone and where he was a 
 social success. Calhoun thought this would be the end 
 of the fox of Kinderhook. "It will kill him, sir, kill him 
 dead," was his excited remark, "he will never kick, 
 
66 John C. Calhoun 
 
 sir, never kick!" Thomas H. Benton knew better, 
 "You have broken a minister," he told Calhoun "and 
 elected a vice-president." He had indeed. 
 
 The tariff of 1828, amended unsatisfactorily in 
 1 83 1, had made its effects disagreeably felt in the 
 South. Georgia had joined its sister state in protesting 
 but had gone no further. Calhoun in the Vice-Presi- 
 dent's chair was always at work; adding to the tense- 
 ness of the situation. South Carolina's voice on the 
 floor was Robert J. Hayne, who made a great speech 
 to have it answered by a greater one from Daniel 
 Webster. The tariff and nullification became an issue 
 in the campaign of 1832, in which Jackson stood for 
 re-election against Henry Clay and to the amazement 
 of the nullifiers was re-elected by an enormous ma- 
 jority. Seeing no hope in the outlook, the South Caro- 
 lina legislature met the 22nd of October in extra ses- 
 sion and called a convention to consider action by the 
 state. This convened at Charleston on November 19th, 
 and by a vote of 136 to 26 adopted an Ordinance of 
 Nullification, together with an address to the People 
 of the United States, justifying its course. A week 
 later, November 27th, the legislature passed an act to 
 make the nullification effective. Governor James Ham- 
 ilton made it law. So confident were the nullifiers of 
 secession that they struck a medal bearing Calhoun's 
 portrait and inscribed: "John C. Calhoun, first Presi- 
 dent of the Southern Confederacy." 
 
 Jackson met the movement with a stern proclama- 
 tion, sending besides two warships and General Win- 
 field Scott to Charleston to deal with the sedition. 
 Robert J. Hayne became Governor on December 
 
John C. Calhoun 67 
 
 13th, resigning from the Senate. Calhoun at the same 
 time resigned as Vice-President and was elected to 
 fill Hayne's seat. Hayne, as Governor proclaimed and 
 fulminated, warning invaders off the sacred South Car- 
 olina soil and calling on its citizens to prepare for 
 bloodshed. Jackson in response sent a message to Con- 
 gress asking for the passage of a force-bill that would 
 give him power to deal with the unruly state. Calhoun 
 had just reached his seat when it was read. He made a 
 cool, subtle reply, saying that no man was more loyal 
 to the Union than he was to it as it stood, and would 
 be the last to question its authority. In furtherance of 
 his position he introduced a group of "Resolutions on 
 the powers of government," all sustaining the doctrine 
 of nullification. There were counter resolves by Sena- 
 tor Grundy of Tennessee, upholding Jackson, and a 
 deal of debate. 
 
 Nullification was to have gone into effect on Feb- 
 ruary 1, 1833. Nothing happened, though Jackson was 
 strongly inclined to proceed against Calhoun for trea- 
 son and have him hanged. That clever nullifier suc- 
 ceeded in securing a compromise on the tariff after a 
 contest with Clay who mocked at the blustering Car- 
 olinians as men waving wooden swords, quoting John 
 M. Clayton of Delaware: — "These South Carolinians 
 act very badly, but they are good fellows, and it is a 
 pity to let Jackson hang them." Accordingly Clay 
 braved the wrath of the northern manufacturers and 
 on March 2, 1833, a measure was passed that grad- 
 ually reduced the protective parts of the tariff. On the 
 same day Jackson got his force bill but never found 
 occasion to use it. Its life was limited to that of the 
 
68 John C. Calhoun 
 
 next Congress. Scott and the two warships came home. 
 
 Calhoun sat in the senate, not as the representative 
 of a party but of his state, for something like seven 
 years, supporting Clay and Webster as a rule against 
 Jackson and his successor Martin Van Buren. He 
 joined with Clay in passing the resolution of censure 
 on Jackson as responsible for the panic of 1837, which 
 was to be expunged before Jackson's death, for which 
 Calhoun also voted. 
 
 In 1835 he again threatened independent action on 
 the part of the Southern states. He had introduced a 
 bill forbidding the delivery of anti-slavery literature 
 through the mails and in supporting it said: "I must 
 tell the Senate, be your decision what it may, the South 
 will never abandon the principles of this bill. If you 
 refuse co-operation with our laws, and conflict should 
 ensue between your and our law, the Southern states' 
 voice will never yield to the superiority of yours. We 
 have a remedy in our hands, which, in such events, 
 we shall not fail to apply. We have high authority for 
 asserting this, in such cases. 'State interposition is the 
 rightful remedy' — a doctrine first announced by Jef- 
 ferson, adopted by the patriotic and republican state 
 of Kentucky by solemn resolution in 1798, and finally 
 carried out in successful practice on a recent occasion, 
 ever to be remembered by the gallant state, which I, 
 in part have the honor to represent." 
 
 In pressing the measure to a third reading he neatly 
 arranged a tie to smoke out Martin Van Buren, the 
 Vice-President and heir to the Presidency, thinking 
 that however he voted it would unite either North or 
 South against him. The sly fox of Kinderhook voted to 
 
John C. Calhoun 69 
 
 advance the measure to third reading and suffered no 
 ill consequences. The bill got no further. In September 
 1837 Calhoun suddenly shifted to the support of Van 
 Buren, deeply disgusting Henry Clay. 
 
 "The gentleman/' said Clay in the Senate "has gone 
 over to the enemy, and time alone can disclose the 
 motive." 
 
 "The gentleman'' retorted Calhoun, "went over to 
 the enemy and did not leave it for time to disclose the 
 motive." 
 
 On February 15th following Calhoun made a speech 
 favoring Van Buren's plan for a United States Treas- 
 ury, independent of banks and special currency. Mr. 
 Clay gave himself four days off to consider his reply. 
 When it came it did not answer Calhoun's arguments 
 but took him severely to task for changing sides. Cal- 
 houn waited twenty days before answering and then 
 polished Clay off prettily. The speech according to Ben- 
 ton was "profoundly meditated and elaborately com- 
 posed; the matter solid and condensed, the style chaste, 
 terse, and vigorous. *•* * It was a masterly ora- 
 tion." Clay rejoined immediately in a speech bitter 
 with sarcasm and invective. The exchange went on until 
 Calhoun conceded the last word to Clay, who closed 
 politely. Calhoun felt he had vindicated his public 
 course, as that of a man who had chosen the best from 
 what was before him. Clay predicted that South Caro- 
 lina would not follow Calhoun, but she did, giving her 
 vote to Van Buren in 1836. 
 
 The Abolitionists now began bombarding Senate 
 and House with petitions asking for the exclusion of 
 slavery from the District of Columbia. There was 
 
70 John C. Calhoun 
 
 much debating whether or not to receive them. Cal- 
 houn favored their non-receipt. Clay saw in this a 
 clash with the right of petition guaranteed by the Con- 
 stitution and his view was accepted by the Senate. This 
 disposed of the petitions, but not of the problem. Cal- 
 houn then sought to get the Senate on record in a way 
 that would cover questions of Federal power over 
 slavery and to that end presented six resolutions all 
 of which protected the institution. Four dealing with 
 the states were passed without debate, the fifth looking 
 to the annexation of Texas was tabled. The sixth 
 advised citizens not to meddle with conditions in the 
 District of Columbia, as "immoral and sinful," and to 
 mind their own business as this would be "a direct and 
 dangerous attack on the institutions of all the slave- 
 holding states." Clay agreed as to the doctrine but not 
 the reason as between the District of Columbia and the 
 territories which were thus linked together. There was 
 a wide difference in a legislative sense. Calhoun now 
 came out squarely against the Missouri compromise 
 of 1820, which he had hitherto accepted and declared 
 it had abolished slavery where it had legally existed 
 for a century. 
 
 Clay cut out the "meddling" in the resolution and 
 inserted "interference." It was passed with but eight 
 votes against, one of which was cast by Daniel Web- 
 ster. In the discussion Calhoun made plain his belief 
 that the abolition agitation if permitted to gain head- 
 way would result in secession. Webster and Buchanan, 
 though of different parties thought Calhoun was going 
 at it the wrong way. Webster wanted to curb "inter- 
 ference" by citizens with regard to all institutions, 
 
John C. Calhoun 71 
 
 while James Buchanan pointed out that "we" of the 
 North, friendly to the South, had been placed between 
 two fires. Calhoun, in defense justly observed that the 
 Union could not be saved by eulogies upon it, and laid 
 down the dogma, which became doctrine, that Con- 
 gress had no power to legislate upon slave-holding in 
 a territory, so as to prevent citizens of slave-holding 
 states from removing thereto with their chattels; that 
 it had no authority to delegate such power to a terri- 
 tory, as the territory had no such power (inherent) 
 in itself. Herein lay the germ of all the troubles that 
 were to follow and end in civil war. Towards this he 
 led steadily in his Senate course, keeping his state be- 
 hind him. 
 
 He was contemptuous of Clay and after forcing 
 the compromise on the tariff in 1833 na d remarked: 
 "I had him down. I had him on his back — I was his 
 master." 
 
 "He my master," was Clay's retort. "I would not 
 own him for the meanest of my slaves." 
 
 Calhoun had some right to exult. He had evaded 
 the wrath of Jackson and forced Clay to lower the 
 tariff which was his pet. Out of this Calhoun felt that 
 he might become President in 1844, by the support of 
 the grateful South and Pennsylvania, where he was 
 strong. Nothing of the sort came to pass. February 
 26, 1844, John H. Upshur, Secretary of State, was 
 killed by the explosion of a cannon on the man of war 
 Princeton, and President Tyler, who was a hybrid, 
 like Calhoun, gave him the vacant portfolio March 
 6th, for the balance of his term, during which he had 
 to deal with the leavings of the Oregon controversy 
 
72 John C. Calhoun 
 
 and negotiated the Treaty for the annexation of 
 Texas. This was rejected by the Senate and became an 
 issue in the election of 1844. The Whigs had beaten 
 the treaty, and Clay's platform opposed absorption 
 of the Republic. Tyler in his message to Congress re- 
 newed his recommendation that Texas be taken in. 
 The House favored it in a joint resolution, which was 
 rejected by the Senate. Eager as the President was to 
 add the acquisition of Texas to his laurels, the palm 
 went to his successor. Dickering dragged along until 
 1846, when Texas was organized as a state on Feb- 
 ruary 19th. The Mexican War was the almost im- 
 mediate outcome. 
 
 Calhoun had returned to the Senate and opposed the 
 precipitate action proposed by President Polk when 
 Mexico made armed resistance to invasion on the part 
 of Zachary Taylor's forces. He refused to recognize 
 this as war "according to the sense of the Constitution," 
 and acted with Webster in striving for delay in the hope 
 of settlement. So he cannot be accused at that moment 
 of selecting an excuse for the extension of slavery. He 
 feared foreign intervention and the seizure of Oregon 
 by Great Britain, out of the pending boundary dispute. 
 Congress disagreed with him by a big majority and 
 the war went on to its victorious conclusion. 
 
 The huge addition of territory acquired by con- 
 quest brought the extension of slavery immediately to 
 the fore, Calhoun at once announcing that he should 
 insist upon the rights of the southern planters to ex- 
 tend their "institution" into the new lands. According 
 to Benton he "openly treated as enemies of the South, 
 all who opposed it." He organized members of Con- 
 
THE SOUTH CAROLINA STAG AT BAY. 
 
 CALHOUN AND HIS ENEMIES 
 
 Calhoun, with his characteristic goatee, is seen standing off his enemies in the Senate, 
 Ritchie, Benton and others. From Yankee Doodle, March 0, 1847 
 
John C. Calhoun 73 
 
 gress from the South into secret conferences to force 
 his purpose of "defence and protection" for their sec- 
 tion, and wrote a manifesto to the tune of the Declara- 
 tion of Independence in support of his attitude. Pre- 
 viously, in discussing the Oregon bill, he had asserted 
 his position: "I deny," he declared "that the laws of 
 Mexico (forbidding slavery) can have the effect of at- 
 tributing to them that of keeping slavery out of New 
 Mexico and California. As soon as the treaties be- 
 tween the two countries are ratified the sovereignty 
 and authority of Mexico in the territory acquired by it 
 becomes extinct and that of the United States is sub- 
 stituted in its place, carrying with it the constitution, 
 with its over-ruling control over all the laws and in- 
 stitutions of Mexico inconsistent with it." 
 
 The manifesto was passed at a meeting of Calhoun's 
 congressmen and senators, thinly attended, but had 
 its menacing effect in producing a crisis that was met 
 by the compromise of 1850. Calhoun had become too 
 enfeebled to attend the Senate. His last speech was 
 read from the floor by Senator J. M. Mason of Vir- 
 ginia, on March 4, 1850. It was provoked by the ap- 
 plication of California for admission as a state on a 
 Constitution that excluded slavery. In it he asserted 
 the coming of secession, pointing out that Southern 
 Methodists and Baptists had separated from the 
 Northern bodies of their church on slavery grounds. 
 The next separation, he prophesied, would be politi- 
 cal, unless Southern rights were protected. He pro- 
 posed a singular solution, which was : u To provide for 
 the insertion of a provision in the Constitution, by an 
 amendment, which would restore to the South in sub- 
 
74 John C. Calhoun 
 
 stance, the power she possesses of protecting herself, 
 before the equilibrium between the sections were de- 
 stroyed by the action of this government.' ' 
 
 The provisions of the amendment were not stated, 
 but he planned that it should provide for the election 
 of two Presidents, one from the North, the other from 
 the South, without whose joint signature no act of 
 Congress should become law. 
 
 This was his final effort for his cause. He died 
 March 31, 1850, breathing fire. 
 
 "Calhoun" wrote Theodore Parker after the for- 
 mer's death, (though a fellow Unitarian and a 
 founder of the church in Washington), "was slavery: 
 the greatest sophist the nation ever knew was properly 
 devoted to the worst institution now in the growing 
 world." "His eloquence was part of his intellectual 
 character" said Daniel Webster in eulogy: "It was 
 plain, strong, terse, condensed, concise, sometimes im- 
 passioned, still always severe. Rejecting ornament, not 
 often seeking for illustration, his power consisted in 
 the plainness of his propositions, in the closeness of 
 his logic and in the energy and earnestness of his man- 
 ner. I have known no man who wasted less of life in 
 what is called recreation, or employed less of it in any 
 pursuits not immediately connected with the discharge 
 of his duty. He seemed to have no recreation but the 
 pleasure of conversation with his friends." 
 
 His only real relaxation was carrying on his planta- 
 tion at Fort Hill, Georgia. This he enjoyed greatly. 
 Here also he made life agreeable for his family and 
 kept open house to friends. Mrs. Jefferson Davis, who 
 
John C. Calhoun 75 
 
 saw Calhoun during a visit to Mississippi in 1845 
 thus describes him: "His head was rather long than 
 broad, the ears were placed low upon it, the depth 
 from front to back was very great; his forehead was 
 low, steep and jutted squarely over the most glorious 
 pair of yellow-brown eyes, that seemed to have a light 
 inherent in themselves. They looked steadily out from 
 under bushy eyebrows that made the deep sockets look 
 still more sunken. When excited, the pupils filled the 
 iris and made his eyes seem black. He lowered them 
 less than any one I have ever seen; they were steadily 
 bent on the object with which he was engaged; indeed 
 on some people they had almost mesmeric power. 
 
 "He wore his thick hair all the same length, and 
 rather long, combed straight back from his forehead. 
 This with his brilliant eyes and unflinching gaze, gave 
 his head the expression of an eagle's. His mouth was 
 wide and straight. He rarely smiled, and the firmly 
 square chin and grave manner made a personality strik- 
 ing in the extreme. He was tall and slenderly built, 
 quick and alert in both speech and movement, but mind 
 and body were so equally and rarely adjusted to each 
 other that no dignity could be more supreme than Mr. 
 Calhoun's. 
 
 "His voice was not musical; it was the voice of a 
 professor of mathematics, and suited his didactic dis- 
 course admirably. He made few gestures, but those 
 nervous, gentlemanly hands seemed to point the way to 
 empire." 
 
 He spoke so rapidly that it was difficult to follow him 
 without the closest attention. 
 
76 John C. Calhoun 
 
 Andrew Jackson on his death-bed deeply regretted 
 that he had not hanged Calhoun. "My country," he 
 said with almost his last breath, "would have sustained 
 me in the act, and his fate would have been a warning 
 to traitors in all time to come." 
 
Courtesy of metropolitan Museum of Art 
 
 HENRY CLAY 
 From the painting- by Samuel Morse 
 
IV 
 HENRY CLAY 
 
 "harry of the west" 
 
 IF Henry Clay made a president when he swung 
 his strength in Congress to John Quincy Adams, 
 he also made an unrelenting enemy of Andrew 
 Jackson, whose hostility was to cost him dear. They 
 had first met at Washington in 1815, when Jackson 
 was in the full flower of his fame, through winning 
 the battle of New Orleans a month after Clay and his 
 fellows commissioners had concluded the Treaty of 
 Peace with England at Ghent. Clay was Speaker of 
 the House of Representatives and their intercourse as 
 he described it was "friendly and cordial." But Clay 
 joined in the criticism of Jackson's Florida perform- 
 ances, not dreaming that public utterances on public 
 policy could be considered an affront. Jackson, how- 
 ever, so viewed it. He aspersed Clay in private; and 
 was repaid, when, with the Presidential prize almost 
 in his grasp, he lost it at the Kentuckian's hands. 
 
 They met and dined together when Jackson came to 
 the Senate in 1823, but established no relations. Up 
 to this time they had both been of the party of Thomas 
 Jefferson. A cleavage now began in which all the ad- 
 vantages were to become those of Jackson. The warm 
 and generous heart of Clay could embrace anyone 
 
 77 
 
78 Henry Clay 
 
 who called him friend but had in it little room for the 
 General. They were miles apart in thought and feel- 
 ing. Jackson's love of country was a personal passion. 
 Clay's devotion was that of a statesman, seeking to 
 share its benefits with all. He was a born leader of men. 
 Horace Greeley, whose capacity for affection was 
 small declared that he "loved" Henry Clay. Indeed 
 men swore by him as they did no other American politi- 
 cian. Kentucky adored him. It was a treat to hear him 
 on the stump. He was everywhere acclaimed and knew 
 how to handle hecklers. On one occasion he ran into a 
 shooting match and was asked to try his marksman- 
 ship. The test was critical, for the voters were apt to 
 be governed by the result. He had only a casual ac- 
 quaintance with the rifle but banged away, and had the 
 luck to make a bull's-eye. There was loud acclaim of 
 "accident." "When you beat it," he said, "I'll do it 
 again." No one "beat it" and his supremacy stood. 
 His popularity, as William Wirt put it was the sort 
 that followed — was not run after. 
 
 If ever a man deserved the Presidency both from 
 his talents and personal popularity it was Clay. Yet he 
 was destined not to arrive, the relentless Jackson 
 standing ever in the way. "Mr. Clay" the General 
 wrote to Samuel Swartwout, of New York, "has never 
 yet risked himself for his country. He has not sacri- 
 ficed his repose nor made an effort to repel an invad- 
 ing foe. Of course 'his conscience' assured him it was 
 altogether wrong in any man to lead his countrymen 
 to battle and victory." When Adams appointed Clay 
 Secretary of State and the confirmation came up in the 
 Senate, Jackson voted "no." 
 
Henry Clay 79 
 
 Though a Virginian, Clay was humbly born, the 
 seventh child of the Rev. John Clay, who held a min- 
 istry in "The Slashes/' a swampy section of Hanover 
 County. He came into the world April 12, 1777, when 
 the revolution was raging and was soon an orphan, 
 his father dying when he was four years old. The 
 mother married again, taking Henry Watkins for a 
 husband. He was kind to the lad, who, as he grew up 
 acquired the sobriquet of "The Mill Boy of the 
 Slashes" because of his carrying grain on horseback 
 to be ground into flour. Peter Deacon taught him the 
 rudiments in a log school house. He worked in a 
 country store, then secured a job as copyist in the 
 office of the Virginia Court of Chancery. This brought 
 him into contact with George Wythe, at Williams- 
 burg, who had taught law to Thomas Jefferson and 
 John Marshall. He performed the same service for 
 Clay. For a time he acted as Wythe's amanuensis. The 
 lawyer was the best Greek scholar in Virginia and 
 much given to sprinkling his writings with Attic salt 
 in the original. Clay knew no Greek and found great 
 difficulty in copying. 
 
 Admitted to the bar in 1797, he removed to Lexing- 
 ton, Kentucky, which was thereafter to be his home, 
 and met with instant success. The pioneers were liti- 
 gious and he had plenty to do. In 1803 Lexington sent 
 him to the State Legislature. John Adair resigning the 
 United States senatorship in 1806 he was appointed 
 to fill the vacancy. He served again in 1809 by appoint- 
 ment. Then in 181 1 he was elected a member of Con- 
 gress and speedily became a National figure, being 
 selected as speaker, a post he was destined to fill with 
 
8o Henry Clay 
 
 distinction for fourteen years, with gaps between, the 
 first of which occurred when he was sent as one of the 
 Commissioners to Ghent in 1814 and brought to an 
 end the war of 18 12, of which he had been an ear- 
 nest advocate in Congress, where he resumed his seat 
 and the speakership on his return from that mission. 
 Though he owned slaves Clay was opposed to the in- 
 stitution. He would willingly have abolished it had 
 he known how. The puzzle was what to do with them 
 if free. It was felt that they could not be turned loose 
 to become a permanent inferior class in the community. 
 The idea of sending them back to Africa seemed the 
 best solution. In 18 16 the American Colonization So- 
 ciety was formed and established the Republic of Li- 
 beria. Clay served as the second president of this or- 
 ganization, whose main purpose was to remove free 
 negroes to Africa, where but few cared to go. 
 
 It was upon his motion that a joint committee was 
 appointed by the House to confer with one from the 
 Senate on the question of admitting Missouri to the 
 Union as a slave state. To this was due the compro- 
 mise of 1820, which shut out the institution from the 
 rest of the recently acquired Louisiana purchase, and 
 stopped a threatened secession. Clay was not the au- 
 thor of the proposition which originated in the Senate 
 but gained the credit for its adoption. Also, the blame. 
 
 After the passage of the measure Mr. Clay retired 
 from Congress for a term to replenish his purse at the 
 bar. He was back again in 1823, and once more 
 speaker. His share in the election of Adams, and his 
 own candidacy for the Presidency have been detailed. 
 Adams and Clay upon assuming office began the de- 
 
Henry Clay 81 
 
 velopment of what was to become the Whig party out 
 of the old time Federalists and those who opposed 
 Jackson, thus departing forever from the principles of 
 Jefferson, becoming protectionists, friends of the 
 United States bank and all the things that were anath- 
 ema to u 01d Hickory. n 
 
 In 1826 the South American republics, still un- 
 recognized by Spain, and taking the Monroe doctrine 
 at its face, invited the United States to send ministers 
 to a congress of Latin-American states to arrange a 
 relationship for their own protection. This congress 
 was to meet at Panama, then a location, not a state, 
 as a matter of convenience. The Monroe doctrine had 
 been proclaimed not long before while Adams was Sec- 
 retary of State. He now found himself face to face 
 with it and proceeded to interpret it in his own way. 
 He sent in the names of two men as "ministers" — 
 John Sergeant of Pennsylvania, and Richard; Clark 
 Anderson of Kentucky. His message and methods 
 aroused the Senate, while the country itself shared in 
 its excitement, being inclined to reach out a brotherly 
 hand, which the Senate was not. Many of the South 
 American Republicans were a shade too dark to as- 
 sociate with in that day. Some publications on behalf 
 of the administration program fathered by the Secre- 
 tary of State roused the wrath of John Randolph of 
 Roanoke who scored Adams and Clay in the Senate, as 
 a compound of "Blifill and Black George — The Puri- 
 tan and the Blackleg/' He further intimated that Clay 
 had manufactured the invitations from the republics. 
 
 The result was a challenge from Clay, which Ran- 
 dolph accepted. Senator Thomas H. Benton, a relative 
 
82 Henry Clay 
 
 of Mrs. Clay, attempted to settle the dispute, but 
 failed. Randolph, determined, however, not to aim at 
 his opponent. On the way to the ground he changed 
 his mind, owing to some reflection that reached his 
 ear. General Jesup acted as Clay's second, while Colo- 
 nel Tatnall acted for Randolph. They met on the after- 
 noon of Saturday, April 8, 1826, on the Virginia 
 shore of the Potomac, at the instance of Randolph, 
 who wanted to fall on its sacred soil in defence of its 
 "rights" whatever these might have been, while its 
 earth would absorb his blood. Before Clay received his 
 pistol from his second Randolph accidentally dis- 
 charged his own weapon. He was given another. Both 
 fired at the word. Both missed, but by a narrow mar- 
 gin as the course of the bullets showed. 
 
 Benton, who was present as a mutual friend tried 
 anew to effect a reconciliation which Clay rejected as 
 "child's play." They again took their stations. Clay 
 fired at the word. Randolph withheld his fire and find- 
 ing himself unhurt emptied his pistol in the air, re- 
 marking: "I do not fire at you, Mr. Clay." With this 
 he offered his hand, which Clay accepted, Randolph 
 remarking, "Mr. Clay, you owe me a coat." There was 
 a bullet hole through its skirt. "I am glad the debt is 
 no greater," replied Clay. On Monday the parties ex- 
 changed cards and resumed friendly relations. "It was 
 about the last high-toned duel I have witnessed" re- 
 cords Benton, "and[ among the highest toned that I 
 have ever witnessed, and so happily conducted to a 
 fortunate issue — a result due to the noble character 
 of the seconds as well as to the generous and heroic 
 spirit of the principals," 
 
Henry Clay 83 
 
 Eventually the ''ministers" were confirmed and Con- 
 gress authorized their mission, but it was never ful- 
 filled. The South American Congress did not function 
 far, and the "Monroe doctrine" still remains uninter- 
 preted. 
 
 The triumph of Jackson over Adams in 1828 
 caused Clay's retirement from public life for several 
 years, during which he was busy with the law at Lex- 
 ington. In 1 83 1 he took his seat in the Senate. So 
 tumultuous had been Jackson's first administration that 
 it was readily agreed that he could not succeed himself. 
 Calhoun, as noted was of that opinion, and contrived 
 at bringing it about, but defeated his own purpose by 
 his stand on nullification. The Anti-Jacksonians had 
 not yet taken on the guise of Whigs, but called them- 
 selves "National Republicans." They met in conven- 
 tion at Baltimore on December 12, 1831, one hundred 
 and sixty-seven delegates attending. It was hardly na- 
 tional in content. South Carolina, which thought itself 
 out of the Union, Georgia, which sympathized with it, 
 Alabama, Mississippi, Illinois and Missouri sent no 
 representatives. Clay was nominated by acclamation, 
 each delegation announcing its vote through a chair- 
 man. All were for Clay. John Sergeant, of Pennsyl- 
 vania, was the candidate for Vice-President. The plat- 
 form summed up the sins of Jackson, which were nu- 
 merous, but popular, involving as they did the tariff, the 
 United States Bank, internal improvements and the 
 expulsion of the Georgia Cherokees. 
 
 Further support for Clay came from a "Young 
 Men's" Convention held at Washington in May, 1832. 
 This gathering endorsed Clay, internal improvements, 
 
84 Henry Clay 
 
 and the tariff. It also denounced Jackson's over-ruling 
 the United States Supreme Court in the case of the 
 Cherokees, whose rights that body had upheld, but 
 which Jackson refused to enforce. He had fought the 
 Indians and bore them no good-will, civilized and 
 worthy as they were. It also disapproved of the newly 
 inaugurated "Spoils System." 
 
 The Anti-Masonic madness was raging. Its follow- 
 ers were opposed to Jackson. They had met in con- 
 vention at Baltimore September 16, 1831, and put up 
 William Wirt, the celebrated jurist of Maryland, for 
 President and James Ellmaker, of Pennsylvania, for 
 Vice-President. Thus the anti-Jackson forces were 
 divided. The campaign that followed was one of tre- 
 mendous vehemence but all signs went Jackson's way 
 in the preliminary elections. A Jackson man even cap- 
 tured the governorship of Kentucky, though the Lieu- 
 tenant Governor was of Clay's company. It was loudly 
 claimed that "repeaters" who flocked over from Ten- 
 nessee were responsible for the result. That they had 
 a hand in it is more than likely. There were not many 
 scruples in Jackson's politics. But the stars were set 
 against "Harry of the West." 
 
 Clay was badly beaten. The electoral college stood 
 219 for Jackson, 49 for Clay and 7 for Wirt. Virginia 
 and South Carolina split, giving eleven votes to John 
 Floyd. The popular vote was 687,500 for Jackson; the 
 combined opposition behind Clay and Wirt polled 530,- 
 189. The Clay states were Massachusetts, Rhode Is- 
 land, Connecticut, Kentucky and in part Maryland, 
 where some Clay electors got in by four majority. 
 Tennessee went almost unanimously for Jackson, there 
 
liWjijjifiWIT 
 
 MR. CLAY TAKING A NEW VIEW OF THE TEXAS QUESTION 
 
 Now for one I certainly am not willing to involve thin ) 
 
 country in a foreign war for the object of acquiring KA, PE, FI FO FUM ■ 
 
 IfiT' .I""" . k "' '"h. and justice, are equally !> I SMELL THE BLOOD OF A MEXICL'N ' 
 
 iuo^-m'Z7,^kt^. We8k ■" toWard U,e I ° EAD ° B AL,VE ' WU ^ "AVE SOMR I 
 
 feel »« if I yet must go and i 
 
 CLAY AND THE TEXAS QUESTION 
 
 Clay's equivocal stand with regard to Texas was one of the determining factors in the 
 
 race which he lost to Polk, who was more outright in his utterances 
 
 Prom Yankee Doodle, February G, 1847 
 
Henry Clay 85 
 
 being but 1436 Clay ballots cast. Georgia and Alabama 
 gave him no votes at all. 
 
 Defeat did not disturb Clay's prestige. He loomed 
 up larger than ever in the Senate and became the fore- 
 most of the Whigs. For supporters he had the mighty 
 Webster and for much of the time Calhoun. Van 
 Buren became President by the will of Jackson, and 
 continued his policies. Calhoun deserted Clay and his 
 following was difficult to handle. The slavery question 
 raised its head ominously. He could not save the 
 United States Bank. When it became time to replace 
 Van Buren the opportunity should again have been 
 Clay's. His party was out of hand and the nomination 
 went to William Henry Harrison, with John Tyler of 
 Virginia for Vice-President. The resulting "Log- 
 Cabin" and "Hard Cider" campaign was something re- 
 markable. Van Buren ran again, but with a divided 
 party and no candidate for Vice-President he was de- 
 feated. 
 
 According to Benton, Clay had determined to retire 
 in November, 1840, when Harrison won, after he him- 
 self had been set aside for the nomination. As Benton 
 gives his state of mind: u The determination was 
 formed from the moment that he found himself super- 
 seded at the head of his party by a process of intricate 
 and trackless filtration of public opinion, which left 
 him a dreg where he had been for many years the head. 
 It was a mistake, the effect of calculation, which ended 
 more disastrously for the party than himself. Mr. Clay 
 should have been elected, at that time. The same power 
 which elected Harrison would have elected him. The 
 banks enabled the party to do it. In a state of suspen- 
 
86 Henry Clay 
 
 sion they could furnish without detriment to them- 
 selves the funds for the campaign. Affecting to be 
 ruined by the government they could create distress : 
 and thus act upon the community with the double bat- 
 tery of terror and seduction. Lending all their energies 
 and resources to a political party, they elected Har- 
 rison with a hurrah and could have done the same by 
 Clay." 
 
 Benton thought Clay missed a psychological mo- 
 ment in not getting out. Probably Webster, who be- 
 came Harrison's Secretary of State persuaded him to 
 stay. The Whigs in control of the Senate were at last, 
 they thought, a real party and in a position to do 
 something. It proved quite otherwise. Harrison died 
 after a month in office and Tyler took his place. Tyler 
 had been a follower of Jackson and his message on 
 taking office was so much more Jacksonian than Whig 
 that Clay presented to the Senate a program of his 
 own, embracing among other things these items: 
 
 i — The repeal of the Sub-Treasury act. 
 
 2 — The incorporation of a bank adapted to the 
 wants of the people and the government. 
 
 3 — The provision of an adequate revenue for the 
 government by the imposition of duties, and in- 
 cluding an authority to contract a temporary 
 loan to cover the public debt created by the last 
 administration. 
 
 4 — 'The prospective distribution of the proceeds 
 from public land sales. 
 
 This last, as Senator Benton observed, was an 
 
Henry Clay 87 
 
 absurd corollary to the item preceding it. Clay did not 
 get on well with Tyler, nor did most of the Whigs. 
 
 Clay's leadership in the Senate became ineffective, 
 even though the Democrats were in the minority. An 
 effort, often made since to limit debate, which he 
 fathered, was defeated to his deep disgust, by votes 
 on his own side, in defense of the liberty of speech; 
 that being the freedom to talk a bill to death which 
 still prevails. His insistence annoyed one of his fellows 
 who said: "He gives your party a great deal of trouble, 
 and his own a great deal more." Defending the tariff 
 also became burdensome. Local interests were always 
 bobbing up in one way or another and kept him in 
 trouble. 
 
 Vexed at his own futility he resigned his seat in 
 March, 1842, and went back to Lexington. His fare- 
 well speech was classic in diction and damp with emo- 
 tion. This is a sample sob : 
 
 I emigrated from Virginia to the State of Kentucky now 
 nearly forty-five years ago: I went as an orphan boy who had 
 not yet attained the age of majority; who had never recognized 
 a father's smile, nor felt his warm caresses; poor, pennyless, 
 without the favor of the great, with an imperfect and neg- 
 lected education, hardly sufficient for the ordinary business and 
 common pursuits of life; but scarce had I set foot upon her 
 generous soil when I was embraced with paternal fondness, 
 expressed as though I had been a favorite child, and patronized 
 with liberal and unbounded munificence. From that period 
 the highest honors of the state had been bestowed upon me; 
 and, when in the darkest hours of calumny and distraction, 
 I seemed to be assailed by all the rest of the world, she inter- 
 posed her broad and impenetrable shield, repelled the poisoned 
 
88 Henry Clay 
 
 shafts that were aimed for my destruction and vindicated my 
 good name from every malignant and unfounded aspersion. I 
 return with indescribable pleasure to linger a while longer and 
 mingle with the warm-hearted and whole-souled people of that 
 state; and, when the last scene shall forever close upon me, 
 I hope that my earthly remains will be laid under her green 
 sod with those of her gallant and patriotic sons. 
 
 Mainly bathos, say you? Yes, but the Senate wept 
 at hearing it and gave him the wettest kind of a fare- 
 well. At Lexington he had established a fine estate 
 called Ashland,, where he led an enjoyable life out of 
 range of the slings and arrows, betting pretty heavily 
 on cards and horses and consuming a good deal of old 
 Bourbon. He was no less a popular idol than when sit- 
 ting helplessly in the Senate. 
 
 When it came time for the Whigs to nominate in 
 1844, Clay was unanimously called upon to head the 
 ticket against James K. Polk. Theodore Frelinghuysen, 
 of New Jersey, was named for Vice-President; this at 
 a convention held in Baltimore May 1, 1844. The an- 
 nexation of Texas was a burning question. Clay op- 
 posed it as "dangerous to the tranquillity of the coun- 
 try, unjust to Mexico, and dishonorable in the eyes 
 of the world." Martin Van Buren, who was a candi- 
 date for the Democratic nomination held the same 
 view. He lost out to Polk, largely because of it. Polk 
 was an obscurity compared to Clay, but he was against 
 the tariff, Jacksonian, and in favor of taking Texas. 
 Tyler rejected by the Whigs was named by a conven- 
 tion of his own on the Texas platform, but receiving 
 no encouragement, he withdrew on August 20, 1844, 
 leaving the field to Polk and Clay. Jackson was still 
 
Henry Clay 89 
 
 living and his weight went to his fellow Tennessean. 
 Clay was not clear on anything. He hedged a little on 
 the annexation question, the chief objection to which 
 was the addition of more slave territory. This cost 
 him votes in the South. Endeavoring to overcome 
 them, by deprecating the slavery arguments, he lost 
 votes in the North. Texas became and remained the 
 issue. While the election lacked the fury of that of 
 1840, it was spirited and the result close. Van Buren 
 ran on a free-soil ticket and there was no popular 
 majority, while Polk's plurality over Clay was less 
 than forty thousand. For a time it looked as though 
 Clay had won. I recall visiting Jackson's "Hermitage" 
 near Nashville, in 1899, where there still was an old 
 colored retainer who said: "You gentlemen from New 
 .York! Ole General mighty fond of New York. I 
 member ebery one round heah done say Mas' Clay 
 elected. Ole General he say, 'You all ain't heard from 
 New York yet.' Sure 'nough when we heard from New 
 York Mas' Clay not elected." 
 
 Polk had a majority of 69 electors. Seven free states 
 voted for Clay and six for Polk. Polk was victor in 
 eight slave states, Clay in five. Among the latter Ten- 
 nessee shocked Jackson by giving Clay a majority of 
 113. 
 
 The Whigs raised a cry of fraud against the out- 
 come in New York and Louisiana, but nothing was 
 proven. Jackson was soon dead, adding to his regret 
 that he had not hanged Calhoun, his neglect to shoot 
 Henry Clay. Following his defeat Clay went into re- 
 tirement at Ashland. 
 
 The annexation of Texas to which he had been op- 
 
90 Henry Clay 
 
 posed brought on the war with Mexico which was 
 also against his judgment. His son, Henry Clay, Jun- 
 ior, went to the front and left his life at Buena Vista, 
 heroically refusing when wounded to let his men bear 
 him from the field at the risk of their own safety. The 
 outcome of the war again brought the* question of 
 slavery to the fore. Calhoun and his associates turned 
 eager eyes to the new territory, and Kentucky sent 
 Clay to the Senate once more in 1849. He was now 
 seventy-two and his days were numbered. There had 
 been many changes since he left the chamber in 1842. 
 William H. Seward and the slavery issue were prom- 
 inent in it. He came back on the edge of a storm. So 
 early as 1839 he had rejoiced u that it is 9 not true that 
 either of the two great parties in this country has any 
 design or aim at abolition.'' Yet in the same speech his 
 prophetic vision forced him to say that the question 
 was "bound to persist in traveling the long and bloody 
 road to the distant goal at which it would finally ar- 
 rive." 
 
 He had much to do with the compromise of 1820 
 and was now to share responsibility for that of 1850. 
 The coming of California, the rapid increase in new 
 territories and incidentally states, menaced the bal- 
 ance maintained in politics that protected the institu- 
 tion. He knew the Union was in peril but like many 
 others was guided by political expediency rather than 
 the instincts of humanity — not that he was not a 
 humane man. He was, but the problem .was one with 
 which neither he nor any other man was able to deal. 
 Coincident with his return to public life Zachary Tay- 
 lor became President and firmly grasped the trouble- 
 
Henry Clay 91 
 
 some situation in his first message. Could he have lived 
 the course of events might possibly have been altered, 
 or at least delayed. 
 
 The question of the admission of California and the 
 status of the new territories became pressing and the 
 task of adjusting the situation was given to Mr. Clay, 
 who brought in a series of resolutions, eight in number, 
 dealing with the various questions involved. These 
 were referred on April 18, 1850, to a special committee 
 of thirteen of which he became chairman. The other 
 members were Lewis Cass of Michigan, Daniel Web- 
 ster, of Massachusetts, Samuel S. Phelps, of Vermont, 
 James M. Mason, of Virginia, Jesse D. Bright, of In- 
 diana, Daniel S. Dickinson, of New York, John M. 
 Berrien, of Georgia, Willis P. Magum, of North Car- 
 olina, William R. King, of Alabama, Solomon W. 
 Downs, of Louisiana, John Bell, of Tennessee and 
 James Cooper, of Pennsylvania. To this very able 
 body of men was given the task of shaping satisfactory 
 legislation out of Clay's plan and such other material 
 as might be offered. Clay held out nothing to slavery. 
 His resolutions accepted for the territories taken from 
 Mexico the free status they had enjoyed under its rule; 
 leaving them to regulate the future themselves. To this 
 Jefferson Davis, Senator from Mississippi objected as 
 giving nothing to the South, and demanded the exten- 
 sion of the line of the Missouri Compromise to the 
 Pacific, with a positive provision sanctioning slavery 
 below it. u Coming as I do, M replied Clay in a noble 
 utterance, "from a slave state, it is my solemn, de- 
 liberate and well-matured determination that no power, 
 no earthly power, shall compel me to vote for the posi- 
 
92 Henry Clay 
 
 tive introduction of slavery either south or north of 
 that line." 
 
 The committee of thirteen reported in favor of 
 Clay's proposition which was put in legislative form 
 but rejected. For several months the differences were 
 under debate. While pending, President Taylor died, 
 on July 9, 1850. His death placed Millard Fillmore, 
 a much different type of man in the White House. 
 
 In August the life had been taken out of the Clay 
 measures, all that remained being a bill to take care of 
 Utah and the Mormon Church, which was passed. 
 Texas was up in arms, claiming a slice of soil held 
 by New Mexico, while California adopted a constitu- 
 tion that prohibited slave-holding. In the crux Calhoun 
 died. Clay, Webster and Fillmore succeeded in bring- 
 ing about an adjustment. The compromise legislation 
 was the last of Clay's labors. He came to Washington 
 to attend the session of Congress opening in Decem- 
 ber, 185 1, but could only sit in his senate seat a single 
 day. Consumption had fixed its hold upon his tall body 
 and he lingered an invalid until June 29, 1852, when 
 he put all storms behind forever. 
 
 His demise filled the country with mourning. New 
 York bedecked itself in black. The funeral train was 
 everywhere greeted in sorrow as it bore his body back 
 to Lexington. Then they recalled with regretful re- 
 spect the man who said: "I had rather be right than 
 be president" and wished that they had believed him 
 right. 
 
 Clay had a smooth audacity that often stoodj him in 
 great stead. He had been retained to represent the 
 interests of Kentucky in a legal contest with Virginia 
 
Henry Clay 93 
 
 in the United States Supreme Court. Though Speaker 
 of the House he had never appeared before that au- 
 gust body. He was rather discomposed at first facing 
 the black-robed dignitaries, but observing Mr. Justice 
 Bushrod Washington take snuff, he stepped gracefully 
 forward and helped himself to a pinch, remarking, 
 "I perceive your honor sticks to Scotch. " This broke 
 the ice, and almost broke up the court. No other than 
 Clay could have taken the liberty. 
 
 In 1806 when Aaron Burr was held prisoner in 
 Louisville, en route to Richmond for trial, a mob spirit 
 rose that threatened his life. Clay was in town, and 
 becoming alarmed, visited the prisoner, whose counsel 
 he had been, and remarked reassuringly: 
 
 "Mr. Burr, whatever may be the excitement upon 
 the street, depend upon it I will be answerable for 
 your personal safety." 
 
 "Mr. Clay," was Burr's response, "I have never 
 been placed in any circumstances where I could not 
 protect myself." 
 
 Thomas H. Benton, of Missouri, "Old Bullion," 
 was the only Senator who could get Mr. Clay's "goat" 
 as we moderns say, and keep it. He could exasperate 
 Clay into a trembling rage, all the while maintaining 
 a huge placidity. During the debate on the fisheries 
 question in 1832, Clay rubbed in Benton's duel with 
 Jackson and quoted some of his remarks concerning 
 the President with whom the Senator was then at 
 peace, among others an alleged statement that were 
 Jackson elected "we must be girded with pistols and 
 dirks to defend ourselves while legislating here." This 
 Benton denounced as "an atrocious calumny," and 
 
94 Henry Clay 
 
 added that there was "an adjourned question of verac- 
 ity" between Clay and Jackson. 
 
 Clay retorted, "The assertion that there is an ad- 
 journed question of veracity between me and General 
 Jackson, is, whether made by man or master absolutely 
 false. * * * Can you look me in the face, Sir, and 
 say you never used that language (pistols and dirks) 
 out of the State of Missouri." 
 
 Mr. Benton. — I look, sir, and repeat that it is an atrocious 
 calumny; and I will pin it to him who reflects it here. 
 
 Mr. Clay. — Then I declare before the Senate that you said 
 to me the very words. 
 
 Mr. Benton. — False! False! False! 
 
 Mr. Clay. — I fling back the charge of atrocious calumny 
 upon the senator from Missouri. 
 
 Mr. Ingersoll, Chairman protem. — The Senator from Ken- 
 tucky is not in order and must take his seat. 
 
 Mr. Clay. — Will the chair state the point of order? 
 
 Mr. Ingersoll. — The chair can enter into no explanations 
 with the Senator. 
 
 Mr. Clay. — I shall be heard. I demand to know what point 
 of order can be taken against me, which was not equally ap- 
 plicable to the Senator from Missouri. 
 
 The chair. — The whole discussion is out of order. I would 
 not have permitted it had I been in the chair when it com- 
 menced. 
 
 Mr. Benton. — I apologize to the Senate for the manner in 
 which I have spoken; but not to the Senator from Kentucky. 
 
 Mr. Clay. — To the Senate I also offer apology. To the Sena- 
 tor from Missouri none. 
 
V 
 LEWIS CASS 
 
 SOLDIER AND STATESMAN 
 
 NO party ever had worse luck in the political 
 outcomes of a war than the Democratic in 
 the consequences following that with Mexico. 
 The great Andrew Jackson had seemingly made it 
 omnipotent only to spoil his work by forcing the nomi- 
 nation of Martin Van Buren, leading to the triumph 
 of Hard Cider and Log Cabins in the campaign of 
 1840, with its Whig victory. The death of William 
 Henry Harrison after but a month in office, put John 
 Tyler in his place. Tyler, though nominally a Whig, 
 was also a Virginian, and his policies speedily became 
 mainly those of Jackson. The election of James K. 
 Polk, of Tennessee, Democrat, followed in 1844, and 
 the party sun shone brighter than before. Then came 
 the Mexican War cloud. The party had not developed 
 any hero beside Jackson, who had been gathered to his 
 fathers in 1845, and the small regular army had Win- 
 field Scott, a Whig at its head with Zachary Taylor, 
 unknown, in command on the border, where the trou- 
 ble began. It all happened so quickly that Polk had 
 no chance to head him off until his fame was firmly 
 established. One Democrat gained repute with Taylor, 
 Jefferson Davis, but he was only a colonel of volun- 
 
 95 
 
96 Lewis Cass 
 
 teers, and beside was Taylor's son-in-law, and had left 
 the army in a pique. 
 
 Scott as Commander-in-Chief, demanded his right- 
 ful place at the front. The perplexed Polk, quite aware 
 of the political potentiality of Taylor's triumph, saw 
 in Scott's claim a chance to kill two presidential possi- 
 bilities at one essay, to the extent of creating a rivalry 
 that might take them both out of the arena, and ac- 
 cordingly acceded to his desire. He was sent by sea to 
 Vera Cruz, with a large force, further augmented 
 by stripping Taylor's army of all but a few men, leav- 
 ing him to contemplate the slow growth of cactus in 
 Nuevo Leon while Scott hunted glory and Santa Anna 
 from the Gulf to Chapultepec. 
 
 The war was a strictly Democratic affair, though 
 run by a Whig general. One Democrat, Franklin 
 Pierce, of New Hampshire, perceived the political 
 possibilities of a war record and had himself appointed 
 a Brigadier-General by Polk. His prescience panned 
 out nicely as the sequel will reveal. There was rampant 
 Whig opposition. No less personage than Thomas 
 Corwin, of Ohio, expressed himself in the Senate in 
 terms that rang: "If I were a Mexican," he told his 
 colleagues from the South, "I would tell you, 'Have 
 you not room enough in your country to bury your 
 dead men? If you come into mine we will greet you 
 with bloody hands and welcome you to hospitable 
 graves.' " This, however, did not prevent the Whigs 
 from making party capital out of the victories and 
 eventually annexing Taylor. The latter, unfairly iso- 
 lated at Monterey, soon found himself besought to 
 be a candidate by both parties for the contest in 1848. 
 
Lewis Cass 97 
 
 The Democrats thought he could be used to beat 
 Scott should he secure the Whig nomination, while 
 the Whigs saw in his fame and treatment a man more 
 likely to win than the doughty general who was not 
 popular with politicians and very indiscreet to boot, if 
 he could be annexed. 
 
 Robert J. Walker, Polk's Secretary of the Treas- 
 ury, put out a Democratic feeler to Jefferson Davis, 
 also a Democrat from Walker's own State of Mis- 
 sissippi, to which the latter replied from Briarfield, 
 Mississippi, June 20, 1847: 
 
 I cannot endorse the opinion that General Taylor has been 
 a Democrat all his life. The statement in relation to his father 
 as a supporter of Jefferson is correct, and it might have been 
 added that the General has always referred to the strict Jeffer- 
 sonian school as the one in which he had been taught, and the 
 elements there acquired as the basis of his political opinions 
 * * * Briefly I should say he is noparty man, would not con- 
 sent to be the candidate of any party, and probably would 
 disagree with the ultra men of both parties. 
 
 This was true so far as the last observation is con- 
 cerned. Davis, while a young lieutenant had eloped 
 with Taylor's daughter. Her death soon followed. 
 As a result he was on terms more formal than intimate 
 with the father, who a month later expressed himself 
 to Colonel J. F. Hamtranck, at Saltillo, thus, writing 
 from Monterey, July 30, 1847: 
 
 I fully agree with you that my returning to the United States 
 at the time alluded to would be made a pretext for assailing 
 me from various quarters * * * from one end of the Union 
 to the other, by the various aspirants for the said office of 
 
98 Lewis Cass 
 
 President. * * * I feel vulnerable only on one point — my 
 want of proper qualifications for the office in question. It is a 
 long time before the election comes on * * * before which 
 many important changes at home and abroad may take place, so 
 much so as to make it desirable for the general good that some 
 other individual than myself should be selected as the candidate. 
 * * * I have not the vanity to believe I have any pretensions 
 to that distinguished station, but would not only acquiese with 
 pleasure in such an arrangement, but would rejoice that the 
 Republic had one citizen more worthy and better qualified than 
 I am. 
 
 It will be perceived that Taylor was something more 
 than receptive. He elected in the finality to take the 
 Whig end and was dfuly nominated. 
 
 The Democrats were now in a quandary. They had 
 no military man of size to pit against him and his ut- 
 terances were of the sort to make him popular in the 
 North. Polk, although he had conquered Mexico got 
 no good opinions out of it. With the annexation of 
 Texas, and the Mexican Territory gained, he was 
 deemed to have merely made more room into which 
 the slave power could expand. That meant increased 
 political strength in the South. So the North took a 
 stronger hand in Democratic politics and the leaders 
 picked Lewis Cass, of Michigan as the standard 
 bearer. He was at the time United States Senator with 
 a long and honorable career to his credit. Probably 
 he was the strongest man who could have been named. 
 
 Mr. Cass had his beginnings in New Hampshire. 
 He was born at Exeter, October 9, 1782. John Cass, 
 his father, was a spirited soldier in the Revolution, 
 coming out of it with the rank of Major, and remain- 
 
Lewis Cass 99 
 
 ing in the service. Sent against the Ohio Indians he 
 saw much of the country and liking it resigned from 
 the army and removed his family to Marietta, Ohio, 
 in 1800. Lewis remained behind to complete his studies 
 at Exeter Academy. Thence when eighteen, he walked 
 across Pennsylvania to Pittsburgh and made his way 
 down the Ohio to join his father who had settled on 
 land given him for his services in the revolution. The 
 youth did not care for farming and took to law, open- 
 ing his office at Zanesville. Here he did well and in 
 1806 began his long political career by election to the 
 Ohio legislature. 
 
 Burr's venture against the Spanish of the Southwest 
 was taking form at Blennerhassett's island and caused 
 general alarm. In the moves to thwart it Cass took an 
 active part. He got thereby into the good graces of 
 President Jefferson who praised an address Cass had 
 penned on behalf of his fellow legislators denouncing 
 the "conspiracy." 
 
 Tecumseh's agitations led to the raising of Ohio 
 volunteers in 1811. Cass became a colonel. The war of 
 18 12 followed and Cass headed the invasion into 
 Canada, being the first man to set foot upon the soil 
 in a hostile sense and fired the first shot. He was under 
 General William Hull, when he surrendered Detroit, 
 to the great disgust of the colonel, who was witness 
 at the court martial which tried and sentenced Hull 
 to death. Exchanged, he was given a colonel's commis- 
 sion in the regular army, and rose to Brigadier Gen- 
 eral. He fought in the battle of the Thames. General 
 Harrison, departing for Buffalo after that victory, on 
 October 28, 18 13, appointed him Provisional Gover- 
 
loo Lewis Cass 
 
 nor of the North-West Territory and left him with 
 a thousand men to defend Detroit. President Madison 
 next named him Territorial Governor of Michigan. 
 In 1 8 15 he removed his family to Detroit, filling the 
 office until 1831. He performed a notable feat in 1820, 
 when under orders from John C. Calhoun, then Secre- 
 tary of War, he conducted an expedition along the 
 North-West border, as far as then developed, to sweep 
 out British trading posts and trespassers, Calhoun 
 having in mind the trouble in the Ohio, Indiana and 
 Michigan country after the Revolution because this 
 precaution had not been then taken. 
 
 The disruption of President Andrew Jackson's cabi- 
 net in 18*31, made an opening for Cass as Secretary of 
 War. He was appointed and took office in July. He 
 was much in Jackson's company and highly esteemed. 
 Not agreeing with the Jackson policy of withdrawing 
 government deposits from the United States Bank, 
 Cass offered to resign on September 23, 1833. The 
 President took no umbrage at the difference and urged 
 him to keep his post. This he did until 1836, when 
 toward the close of the Jackson administration he was 
 appointed Minister to France. The General's regard 
 for him was lasting and among the ornaments of the 
 foyer in the Hermitage near Nashville, was a bust of 
 Lewis Cass. 
 
 He filled the French post for six years. On his re- 
 turn from Paris New York made much of him. Philip 
 Hone in his diary records on December 13, 1842: 
 
 The late Minister to France is all the fashion in New York. 
 He receives company in Presidential and Gubernatorial style 
 
Lewis Cass 101 
 
 at the City Hall. He has defined his political sentiments in a 
 letter to Governor Dickinson, of New Jersey, which is pub- 
 lished with a flourish of trumpets for the benefit of all good 
 Republicans who may have been troubled with doubts and mis- 
 givings on that important subject. He professes to be a Demo- 
 crat of the Jefferson school and opposed to a National bank. 
 The return of General Cass at this time, and the declaration 
 drawn from him in the above mentioned letter seem to indicate 
 pretty clearly that he is to add one to the number of candidates 
 for the Presidency. He will be a thorn in the side of Mr. Van 
 Buren, whose chances will be more affected by this new aspirant 
 than by that of the Southern candidate. * * * It is pretty 
 difficult for me to find out the claims of General Cass. But in 
 that respect he stands about on a par with General Harrison 
 at the time of his nomination. If Mr. Clay cannot be elected 
 I do not know that I shall not be prepared to hurrah for Cass. 
 Anybody but Calhoun, even Van Buren. I am a Northern man 
 and a New Yorker. As such I can never consent to be ruled by 
 one whose paramount principle is one of opposition to the in- 
 terests and prosperity of this part of the Union. Mr. Calhoun 
 has talents of a superior order, so much the worse; for his 
 enmity is the more effective. 
 
 Mr. Cass now became Senator from Michigan. This 
 seat he occupied in 1844 when he set up a candidacy 
 for the Democratic Presidential nomination. The con- 
 vention assembled at Baltimore, Maryland, May 
 27th. Van Buren, who had been beaten by William 
 Henry Harrison in 1840, was regarded as most likely 
 to capture the honor, despite his defeat and the fact 
 that his previous candidacy had split the party. He 
 had secured a majority of delegates by instruction. The 
 convention promptly adopted the two thirds rule ren- 
 dering his majority impotent. 
 
102 Lewis Cass 
 
 On the first ballot Van Buren had 146 votes, the re- 
 maining 120 were scattered, but of these Cass had 
 the largest number — 83. All but twelve of the South- 
 ern men were recorded against Van Buren, while all 
 but twenty-three from the North were behind him. His 
 majority dropped to a plurality on the second ballot. 
 By the time the fifth was polled he was in the minority 
 thirteen, with 103 votes, while Cass had 107. On the 
 eighth ballot the name of James K. Polk, of Ten- 
 nessee, drew 44 votes. On the ninth Van Buren pulled 
 out and Polk was unanimously named — to the great 
 surprise of the country at large, and was elected. 
 
 Cass supported Polk in his settlement with Mexico, 
 and kept himself to the fore in the Senate. Having 
 made a brave showing in the convention of 1844, he 
 became a foremost figure in that of 1848. New York 
 had become a disturbing element. Silas* Wright, who 
 was elected Governor in 1844 ran away ahead of Polk. 
 This was credited to the resentment of the Van Buren 
 following. The result was the presence of two delega- 
 tions from that state when the convention met at Bal- 
 timore on May 22nd. It was suggested that the fac- 
 tions each seat half their number. To this neither would 
 agree and both sets bolted the convention. Cass, James 
 Buchanan of Pennsylvania and Levi Woodbury, of 
 New Hampshire were the only names put in nomina- 
 tion. Cass led from the first ballot and on the fourth 
 secured the needed two-thirds. General W. O. Butler, 
 of Kentucky, who had succeeded Scott in command at 
 Mexico after his recall, was named for Vice-President. 
 
 The platform characterized the conflict with Mexico 
 as "a just and necessary war," endorsed the Polk ad- 
 
Lewis Cass 103 
 
 ministration and condemned its critics. An effort by 
 William L. Yancey, eminent in time to come as a fire- 
 eater, to secure the adoption of a resolution endorsing 
 "non-interference with the rights and property of any 
 portion of the people of this confederation, be it in 
 the states or territories by any others than the parties 
 interested therein" failed by a vote of 36 to 216. The 
 convention thus set its face against what developed 
 later as "squatter sovereignty." The vote was, how- 
 ever, a bit of dodging. The great majority did not want 
 to stir up the slavery question. Cass himself favored 
 the doctrine voiced by Yancey and later adopted by 
 Stephen A. Douglas. 
 
 When Cass became a candidate Philip Hone 
 changed his tune. "Shall General Cass be President?" 
 he asks himself on Jan. 7, 1848. "Never if I can pre- 
 vent it. His principles are more dangerous than those 
 of any other man who has been named by his party 
 as their candidate. He is an embodiment of political 
 humbug and demogogism, administering to the worst 
 part of the community. He made a fool of himself 
 as Minister to France by writing a book of gossip 
 about the King and court and since his return has 
 courted the populace by declaring war pretty much 
 against all 'princes, potentates and powers.' The an- 
 nexation of Texas and the war with Mexico received 
 his hearty support and he now threatens to subjugate 
 the whole of the American continent." 
 
 Taylor was no campaigner. Cass was. Aside from 
 military qualities — and these were freely questioned — 
 Taylor's talents were not known. His Whiggery, if 
 he had any, was of recent date. His party's attitude 
 
104 Lewis Cass 
 
 toward a successful war was not helpful and hardly 
 to be redeemed by selecting one of the heroes to head 
 it. On the other hand, however, Martin Van Buren, 
 once President, and Jackson's heir, headed a Free-Soil 
 ticket that was a factor of danger and the Abolitionists 
 showed themselves for the first time behind James G. 
 Birney. Birney was an Alabamian who had secured 
 legislation in his state to mitigate the condition of 
 the slaves. Visiting the free states he became convinced 
 that bondage should be abolished for the general good 
 and removed North in 1834, to make abolition the 
 work of his life. So it came about that the great move- 
 ment for freedom had its first political presence made 
 known by a Jackson Democrat and a Southern man. 
 Cass while Minister to France had to deal with a 
 delicate international situation affecting the slave 
 trade. As a result of the War of 18 12 the right to 
 search American ships at sea had been given over by 
 England. That country, in suppressing the slave trade, 
 joined with France, Austria, Prussia and Russia, in a 
 "quintuple treaty" by which each nation permitted 
 visits to its vessels by naval officers, seeking slaves. 
 The stars and stripes flew over many vessels engaged 
 in the illicit trade, but we declined to yield the con- 
 cession of search. The difficulty was solved after a 
 fashion in the Ashburton Treaty of 1842, when the 
 United States agreed to join in the hunt, and so pre- 
 sumably would look after its own vessels. The efforts 
 to keep free soil and abolition out of the canvass were, 
 as noted unavailing, though they did not get into it 
 very deeply as issues. Birney had but 75,000 votes, but 
 Van Buren out to beat Cass, did it. The campaign was 
 
Photograph by Herbert Photos., Inc. 
 
 LEWIS CASS 
 
Lewis Cass 105 
 
 not exciting, outside of New York. There, however, 
 Van Buren had 120,000 to 114,000 for Cass. Taylor's 
 total was 218,000 in the State. This gave him its 
 electors. Cass also lost Pennsylvania, the recently 
 enacted Walker Tariff disgruntling that fortress of 
 protection. Taylor ran ahead of Cass 139,557 on the 
 popular vote and had a majority of 36 in the electoral 
 college. Either New York or Pennsylvania would have 
 saved Cass. Eight free and seven slave states voted 
 for him, while eight slave and seven free states sup- 
 ported Taylor. Sectionalism was not yet on top. The 
 wedge of separatism showed itself in Congress where 
 thirteen Free-Soil representatives held the balance of 
 power between 112 Democrats and 105 Whigs. The 
 Senate was left Democratic by ten majority. 
 
 After his defeat Cass continued in the Senate 
 favoring the compromise of 1850 and its attendant 
 evils. "I believe the law will be executed," he said, 
 "wherever the flag of the Union waves. * * * A 
 wonderful change in public sentiment has taken place. 
 It is going on and will go onward until the great ob- 
 ject is accomplished. We see it in the North, we see it 
 in the West, and all around us. We cannot mistake it." 
 But he could and did, though there was ample excuse 
 for the error. 
 
 The Democratic Convention, which met at Balti- 
 more on June 1, 1852, opened with a determined effort 
 to give Cass another try at the Presidency. He re- 
 ceived on the first ballot one hundred and sixteen 
 votes against ninety-three for James Buchanan, twenty- 
 seven for William L. Marcy and twenty for Stephen 
 A. Douglas. A prolonged contest followed that ended 
 
io6 Lewis Cass 
 
 on the fifth day in the defeat of all four, and the selec- 
 tion of Franklin Pierce of New Hampshire. William 
 R. King of Louisiana was named nominee for Vice- 
 President. 
 
 When James Buchanan became President, March 4, 
 1857, he made Cass his Secretary of State. Much 
 water had gone over the dam since 1848. Two ad- 
 ministrations had weathered the storms of the Anti- 
 Slavery agitation, and Buchanan's victory was wel- 
 comed with a sigh of relief. The radicals had again 
 been badly beaten and it looked as if the country could 
 sleep safely under the Constitution. Cass had sup- 
 ported the compromise of 1850, in his desire to allay 
 the Free-Soil and Abolitionist sentiment which he 
 foresaw would endanger the Union. Taking middle 
 ground, neither side liked him, and he won the epithet 
 of being the biggest "Dough-face" in politics, that 
 being the gentle term applied to compromisers by the 
 radical element in the North. 
 
 The attempt of William Walker, the filibuster, to 
 aggrandize Nicaragua gave the Secretary of State 
 a problem to deal with that was bothersome. He had 
 made a treaty with Nicaragua which authorized the 
 United States to keep a proposed canal route open. 
 It was used as a part of the road to California. 
 Walker interrupted it and had to be pulled off. There 
 was much sympathy for the adventurer in the South 
 and this made the situation delicate to deal with. 
 Honduras, not liking the gringos gave some rights to 
 England that were in our way. Cass was dull in deal- 
 ing with the questions involved. He was seventy-five 
 years old and had done his share. Buchanan wanted 
 
Lewis Cass 107 
 
 to buy Cuba as an outlet for slave pressure but could 
 not get the $30,000,000 he needed from Congress. 
 Paraguay insulted us and was made to apologize. He 
 also wanted to meddle in Mexico, but Congress failed 
 to see in it anything beyond more reaching out by the 
 slave power which Buchanan vainly tried to pacify. 
 Cass dealt ably with China in making a Treaty, which 
 was nearly upset by Commodore Tatnall's going to 
 the rescue of the beaten British in the Pei-ho river. 
 The British in 1857-58 became aggressive search- 
 ing American vessels willy-nilly. Cass's protests were 
 backed up by the Navy department ordering war- 
 ships to Cuban waters to see that none were molested. 
 The British Minister at Washington promptly acceded 
 to the demand that the practice stop. Negotiations 
 were undertaken to develop a plan that would curb 
 Cuban slavery but nothing came of it. Slave trading 
 was near its end, but in quite another fashion, though 
 the daring of the slavers was to continue briefly. Blacks 
 were continually landed in gulf ports either direct or 
 from Cuba. So late as 1859 a slave cargo was landed 
 on Jekyl Island, Georgia, and in 1862, Captain Na- 
 thaniel Gordon, master of the ship Erie, was hanged 
 in the New York Tombs for violating the law making 
 slave transportation a capital offense, passed by Con- 
 gress in 1820. He was the only man ever so punished — 
 and both he and his ship hailed from Portland, Maine ! 
 Cass fell naturally into harmony with the "squatter 
 sovereignty" ideas of Douglas, which was not 
 Buchanan's view at all. He stuck to the Constitution 
 as the sole safeguard of the nation, as it would have 
 been had the nation paid any attention to it, which 
 
io8 Lewis Cass 
 
 it did not save for a very few, who ranked as the 
 rankest kind of pro-slaveryites. Thus it was that Cass, 
 firm for the Union was powerless in the crisis that de- 
 veloped after the election in i860. He had support in 
 the Cabinet only from Attorney General J. S. Black 
 and Postmaster General Joseph Holt. It was his de- 
 sire to awe Charleston with a heavy force, but could 
 not get it done, by the recalcitrant Secretary of War 
 J. B. Floyd. Nor would Isaac Toucey, Secretary of 
 the Navy, act. Buchanan could not be moved to go 
 over their heads. Cass quoted Andrew Jackson in vain 
 to Buchanan. He went on record publicly. "I speak to 
 Cobb" he is quoted as saying "and he tells me he is a 
 Georgian, to Floyd and he tells me he is a Virginian, 
 to you (W. H. Trescot), and you tell me you are a 
 Carolinian. I am not a Michigander : I am a citizen of 
 the United States. The laws of the United States bind 
 you, as they bind me, individually; if you the citi- 
 zens of Georgia, or Virginia, or Carolina refuse obe- 
 dience to them, it is my sworn duty to enforce them." 
 Holding these sentiments and receiving no support 
 for them from the President he notified Mr. Buchanan 
 on December 11, i860, of his purpose to resign. He 
 gave his reasons boldly. They included the President's 
 unwillingness to garrison the Charleston forts and 
 collect the revenues, under guard of a man of war. 
 So it was that while the Southern members left the 
 cabinet because their states had forsaken the Union, 
 Cass got out because he thought the Union was being 
 abandoned by its sworn head. Believing the cabinet full 
 of traitors and Buchanan helpless, on December 21, 
 i860, convinced that all he wished to do was in vain, 
 
Lewis Cass 109 
 
 the Secretary of State laid down his office. Buchanan 
 feebly put the responsibility on Floyd and Toucey as 
 "not concurring in your views" when he accepted the 
 resignation. 
 
 The veteran statesman went back to Detroit firm 
 for the Union after a career of public honor such as 
 it has been given few men to enjoy. His name holds a 
 high place on the roll of those who deserve well of 
 their country. Mr. Cass was a man of noble physique, 
 which expanded into obesity. He was conspicuous in 
 the Senate for perspiring freely and always waving a 
 fan in warm weather. He carried his idea of being a 
 citizen of the United States to the limit of refusing 
 to be called a "Michigander" as too suggestive of 
 being a male goose. He was a clear, convincing speaker 
 in his ability to arrange facts, but debate confused him 
 and he was not apt at retort. On the other hand he 
 was an admirable writer. His kindness of heart was 
 universally commended. No man could be more helpful 
 to his fellows than Lewis Cass tried to be. 
 
VI 
 DANIEL WEBSTER 
 
 "THE GOD-LIKE DANIEL" 
 
 DANIEL WEBSTER remains the finest figure 
 that ever sat in the Senate or filled the high 
 office of Secretary of State. "Little Black 
 Dan" they called him in Salisbury, N. H., where he 
 was born January 18, 1782. Destiny sent him early to 
 the law. His forensic ability remains unequaled in 
 this, if not any other land. He won his first case against 
 his brother Ezekiel, who also became an eminent at- 
 torney. When a lad at Salisbury, Ezekiel had caught 
 a woodchuck and was about to kill the amiable animal, 
 whose shiverings aroused Daniel's compassion. He 
 pleaded with his father to make Ezekiel release the 
 rodent. Ebenezer Webster, his parent, was a man of 
 brains and humor. He set himself up as a judge and 
 ordered the boys to argue the case. This they did with 
 great eloquence. Daniel outtalked Ezekiel and Mister 
 'Chuck was sent happily back to his burrow. 
 
 Salisbury always held a deep place in Webster's 
 heart. Coming back to Boston after a hard session of 
 the Senate he found a delegation from his home town 
 awaiting him. A skillful secretary side-tracked them, 
 and brought word that Mr. Webster was too tired to 
 see anybody. The delegates were insistent. They were 
 
 no 
 
Daniel Webster in 
 
 not office seekers and the matter of their mission was 
 one of the utmost importance. So Mr. Webster came 
 downstairs and heard them in the hall. Their business 
 was indeed important. A Salisbury boy had been ar- 
 rested on a charge of murder. The evidence was cir- 
 cumstantial but so conclusive that no lawyer of lesser 
 weight than Daniel Webster could be trusted to tear 
 it apart. The prisoner was popular and his friends 
 were certain of his innocence. They had come to im- 
 plore the Senator to take the case. 
 
 When the story was told the weary Webster rather 
 brusquely informed the committee that he could not 
 assume the task, and with this curt dismissal he turned 
 away. As he did he heard the Chairman remark half 
 aloud: "I don't know what the neighbors will say 
 to this." 
 
 "What's that?" queried Webster, turning on his 
 heel: "It's the neighbors, is it?" Being informed that 
 it was, he took the retainer and acquitted the accused. 
 It was not in him to fail "the neighbors" of Salisbury. 
 
 The Websters were of the best grade of New Eng- 
 land Americans. Major Ebenezer Webster served 
 under Amherst in the French and Indian War, was 
 with Stark at Bennington and saw Burgoyne surrender 
 his sword at Saratoga. He too, was a lawyer and died 
 a Judge of the Court of Common Pleas in New Hamp- 
 shire. Daniel therefore did not lack background. He 
 was well tutored for College at Phillips Academy, 
 Exeter, and by Dr. Samuel Wood of Boscawen, en- 
 tering Dartmouth in 1797, and graduating in 1801. 
 He stepped to the front as an orator while in his 
 classes, and expected to deliver the Latin valedictory. 
 
H2 Daniel Webster 
 
 The Faculty ruled otherwise, preferring him to exhibit 
 his talents in an English oration or by the composi- 
 tion of a poem. He did neither. Hanover, where Dart- 
 mouth is located gave the student at nineteen, the 
 honor of delivering its Fourth of July oration. After 
 graduation he studied law with Thomas W. Thompson 
 an attorney of distinction, who became a United States 
 Senator, and then to secure funds for further study 
 taught in the academy at Fryeburg, Maine, on the 
 New Hampshire border. He was paid $350 for the 
 year, adding thereto by acting as assistant to Samuel 
 Osgood, Registrar of Deeds for the western district 
 of Oxford County. They still show his handwriting in 
 the old records. He went back to Thompson's office 
 in Salisbury for two years, thence to Boston, where 
 he qualified for the bar with Christopher Gore, and 
 was admitted in 1805. He first tried practicing at 
 Boscawen, N. H., then went to Portsmouth where he 
 prospered, and whence he was sent to Congress in 
 1 8 13, serving two terms. In 18 16 he removed to 
 Boston and thereafter was a Massachusetts man in 
 all that this implies. In 1823 he went again to Con- 
 gress, where a speech on the Greek Revolution, in 
 which a Boston man, Dr. Samuel Gridley Howe, was 
 serving, spread his fame as an orator. June 17, 1825, 
 he made the oration at the laying of the cornerstone 
 of Bunker Hill monument. In 1827 he was elected to 
 the United States Senate and took his high place in 
 American affairs. 
 
 Contemporaneous with Clay and Calhoun, he played 
 in many ways the greater part. As parties shaped up 
 he became the foremost Whig in the North. 
 
DANIEL WEBSTER 
 
Daniel Webster 113 
 
 What started innocently enough in a discussion on 
 the policy dealing with public lands and the tariff 
 ended in uncovering the South Carolina purpose to 
 nullify laws not to her liking. Robert J. Hayne was the 
 spokesman on the floor of the Senate and Webster re- 
 plied for the North. The great debate began on Janu- 
 ary 19th and ran along during February and March, 
 1830. Hayne laid down his defense of state rights in 
 no uncertain tone and Webster was equally emphatic 
 in his reply. It lives as one of the masterpieces of 
 American argument and oratory. Hayne's speeches 
 were of no small caliber and accordingly heightened 
 the merit of Webster's response. 
 
 It is said he had not thought of making himself the 
 champion of the national idea, but it came to him in 
 an impulse aroused by the sudden discernment of 
 South Carolina's purpose as revealed by Hayne. At 
 any rate he rose to the occasion and for two days 
 poured out a speech that still echoes and lifted him to 
 the topmost heights of forensic fame. The issues have 
 long since been washed out in blood but the halo there 
 earned still shines around Daniel Webster's noble 
 brow. His voice was that of melody: it charmed like 
 the harp of Orpheus. He usually began speaking se- 
 dately with arms folded across his chest. Then as the 
 power seized him he would accentuate words with ges- 
 tures. Where Clay was elegant and ornate in speech 
 Webster's flowed like a resistless torrent of fact and 
 logic. One who knew him well has thus strikingly de- 
 scribed him : 
 
 "Imagine a man of full stature, with a broad chest, 
 sinewy limbs, apparently possessing vast physical 
 
114 Daniel Webster 
 
 strength, and you will form a general idea of the 
 outer-man of Daniel Webster. * * * Such a head and 
 face * * * I believe has scarcely ever before or since 
 been seen on human shoulders. The cranium was large, 
 well-shaped, and thinly covered with dark brown hair, 
 which being carelessly thrown back in front revealed 
 a most capacious forehead. This forehead bulged, as 
 it were, forward, as though the large amount of brain 
 within had pushed forward its barrier of frontal bone. 
 That the cerebral organ was of unusual size and ca- 
 pacity was proved on a post-mortem examination, 
 when it was found that, with the sole exception of 
 Baron Cuvier's, Webster's brain was the largest ever 
 known. At the base of this domed palace of the soul 
 were a pair of dark, bushy brows, that over-shadowed 
 the most singular eyes I ever beheld. These were dark, 
 large and so deeply set as to literally glow in their cav- 
 ernous recesses. They did not flash, excepting in mo- 
 ments of great excitement, and then their lustre was 
 amazing; but their steady, awful glow was what ren- 
 dered them so remarkable. " 
 
 His u mouth was stern and large" but his nose "was 
 out of character with the rest of his face." The "chin 
 was large, and its lower part was concealed in the angu- 
 lar folds of a white cravat over which drooped a col- 
 lar." A swarthy tinted skin" added to "the sombre 
 majesty" of the statesman's countenance. Indeed his 
 appearance warranted the term "majestic." He was 
 "God-like" as they called him after the reply to 
 Hayne. Sydney Smith thought him "a steam engine in 
 trousers" and wondered if any man could be as great 
 as Webster looked. His invariable costume was a blue 
 
Daniel Webster 115 
 
 coat with brass buttons, a buff vest and black panta- 
 loons. 
 
 Men of intellect and fortune sought his presence. 
 He often appeared in the select circle whose doings 
 Philip Hone, Mayor of New York, chronicled in his 
 diary. When he visited the metropolis throngs fol- 
 lowed him and thousands packed the docks to witness 
 his departure by steamer to Boston. New York did its 
 best to secure him the presidential nomination in 
 1836. Eleven hundred signatures adorned a call for 
 a meeting at Masonic Hall, Friday evening, December 
 4, 1835, at which his name was formally presented to 
 the country. On March 26, 1836, the Massachusetts 
 legislature resolved itself into a convention and nomi- 
 nated Mr. Webster for the presidency. At this a letter 
 was read from the Senator expressing both a willing- 
 ness to retire from the contest, or to stand by his 
 friends "whether in minorities or majorities, in pros- 
 perous or adverse fortune." 
 
 The Whig party was not yet hammered into cognate 
 shape, with the result that three Whig candidates 
 sought suffrage against Martin Van Buren who had 
 been jammed down the throats of the Democracy by 
 the determined Jackson. These were William Henry 
 Harrison, of Ohio, who had the largest following, 
 Hugh L. White, of Tennessee, whom Benton called 
 the representative of a fragment of Democracy, and 
 in a way Webster, who only received the fourteen elec- 
 toral votes of Massachusetts. Harrison got seventy- 
 three electors and White twenty-six. South Carolina 
 gave her votes to her senator William P. Magum. 
 Thus the country flouted its greatest statesman. 
 
n6 Daniel Webster 
 
 Disgusted with his treatment Webster contemplated 
 leaving the Senate, but was dissuaded by his New York 
 friends, who gave him a great reception, at Niblo's 
 Saloon on March 5, 1837, on the heels of Van Bu- 
 ren's inauguration, at which some boys knocked over 
 an old stove in the rear of the crowded hall and 
 started a panic which Webster stopped with: ''Noth- 
 ing has broken, my friends, but your patience and the 
 thread of my argument." 
 
 Webster, with his wife then made a tour of the 
 country, looking again toward the Presidency. He was 
 everywhere received with acclaim, including Nashville, 
 Jackson's home town, to which the General had just 
 returned. In 1839 he visited England and was re- 
 ceived with almost royal honors. Returning, he took 
 an effective part in the campaign that was to elect Wil- 
 liam Henry Harrison and make him Secretary of 
 State. He was called upon to revise that gentleman's 
 inaugural address which was overloaded with classi- 
 cal allusions, so much so that Mr. Webster after- 
 wards declared he "had killed twenty Roman pro- 
 consuls" in the process of rendering it less ponderous. 
 The death of Harrison and the coming of Tyler to 
 the Presidency brought political confusion. Wide apart 
 as they were Webster concluded to remain in the 
 Cabinet. This action hurt him greatly with the extreme 
 Whigs and he was left much upon the defensive. He 
 settled the Maine boundary dispute with Lord Ash- 
 burton, came to an agreement about Oregon which the 
 British rejected, and then weary of friction retired 
 from his office. The precipitating cause was the dis- 
 
Daniel Webster 117 
 
 covery that President Tyler had been negotiating in 
 secret for the annexation of Texas. He laid down the 
 portfolio, May 8, 1843. 
 
 Massachusetts speedily returned him to the Senate. 
 He was there in opposition to the Mexican War when 
 it came brewing. Like Clay, the conflict cost him a 
 son, Edward Webster, who died a major in Mexico, 
 victim of tropical fever. In 1847 he made another 
 tour South looking for the Presidential nomination in 
 1848. He was again received with a cordiality that 
 failed to congeal into delegates. Richmond and 
 Charleston gave him public dinners and he was made 
 much of. Colonel Hayne, his old antagonist made an 
 eloquent address of welcome. He came back to vote 
 against the Treaty with Mexico which Polk had al- 
 most privately consummated. 
 
 The Whigs met in convention at Philadelphia on 
 June 7, 1848, to nominate a Presidential ticket. It 
 should have been Webster's turn. Clay had twice tried 
 only to meet with defeat. Yet he received 97 votes on 
 the third ballot to but 22 for Mr. Webster, and 11 1 
 for Zachary Taylor, who was nominated on the fourth 
 ballot. It seems amazing that so distinguished a man 
 should fare so badly. The convention, had, however 
 picked a winner which would probably not have been 
 the case had it named Webster. He was opposed not 
 only to the extension of slavery but regarded its ex- 
 istence as an unmitigated evil, and believed the effort 
 to choke the abolition movement was only tending to 
 increase its strength for an explosion. When Congress 
 came together in December, 1848, Polk's message 
 
Ii8 Daniel Webster 
 
 asked for the creation of territorial governments in 
 New Mexico and Utah. Here Webster demolished a 
 string of Calhoun's sophisms. Nothing was done and 
 the problem was left to the new Congress. 
 
 The outcome of the territorial situation was the 
 compromise of 1850, which has been fully credited to 
 Clay, while Calhoun's part has been described. Here 
 Clay and Webster who had so long figured in the arena 
 were together for the last time. On March 7, 1850, 
 after Calhoun's final utterances were read, Webster 
 declared himself on the subject. 
 
 "The imprisoned winds are loose" he said in his 
 opening. "The East, the North and the Stormy South 
 combine to throw the whole sea into commotion, to 
 toss its billows to the skies and disclose its profoundest 
 depths." Because a portion of the territory acquired 
 by the war of acquisition, as he termed that with Mex- 
 ico, had a warm climate, it was natural that the South 
 turned to it as its possession. He then gave a luminous 
 outline of slavery in all its phases as it had affected the 
 nation. It was repugnant to the framers of the Consti- 
 tution. He opposed its introduction into California 
 and New Mexico. Both to his mind were destined to 
 be free, mainly because they afforded no profitable op- 
 portunity for slave labor. "I am ready" he declared "to 
 assert the principle of the exclusion of slavery." But 
 he also thought the complaints of the South concern- 
 ing the non-rendition of fugitive slaves were just and 
 deserved a remedy. Senator J. M. Mason, of Virginia, 
 had introduced an act to that effect which Webster ac- 
 cepted with some minor amendments, thus flying in the 
 
Daniel Webster 119 
 
 face of the abolition societies that were strongest in his 
 own state. He went so far as to denounce these as use- 
 less. "I think their operations for the last twenty years 
 have produced nothing good or valuable, " was his 
 estimate of their accomplishments. He noted the vio- 
 lence of the Northern press but found that of the 
 South even more truculent, yet could discover "no 
 solid grievance presented by the South within the re- 
 dress of the government," aside from "a proper re- 
 gard to the injunction of the constitution for the de- 
 livery of fugitive slaves." His speech lost him caste in 
 the North. He was regarded as bidding for the Presi- 
 dency. Massachusetts loathed him. Resolutions de- 
 nouncing him were adopted at a mass meeting held in 
 Faneuil Hall, after Theodore Parker had declared: 
 "I know no deed in American history by a son of New 
 England to which I can compare this but the act of 
 Benedict Arnold." When Webster's friends asked for 
 the use of the hall for the purpose of giving him a 
 hearing the corporation of Boston refused the request. 
 "Where am I to go?" asked the bewildered statesman. 
 "To the devil" was the most common reply. The New 
 York Tribune declared he could not expect a single 
 Whig vote in the next National Convention. His ad- 
 miring friend the editor of the Boston Atlas repre- 
 hended him severely. The Church leaders of the North 
 were almost unanimous against him. John Greenleaf 
 Whittier, the Quaker poet, of Amesbury, wrote "Icha- 
 bod." It became a favorite rune with the Abolitionists 
 and was read aloud at many meetings. Here are some 
 of its stinging stanzas: 
 
120 Daniel Webster 
 
 So fallen! So lost! The light withdrawn 
 
 Which once he wore! 
 The glory from his gray hairs gone 
 
 Forevermore ! 
 Revile him not, the Tempter hath 
 
 A snare for all! 
 And pitying tears, not scorned wrath 
 
 Befit his fall! 
 
 All else is gone; from those great eyes 
 
 The soul has fled: 
 When faith is lost, when honor dies, 
 
 The man is dead! 
 Then pay the reverence of old days 
 
 To his dead fame ; 
 Walk backward with averted gaze, 
 
 And hide the shame! 
 
 Webster was stunned. He had considered the ebulli- 
 tions of anti-slavery as mere local outbursts. To find 
 the whole state and the Whig press against him was 
 crushing. The speech was commended in the South. 
 Even Calhoun approved of it in his last moments. The 
 death of President Taylor caused a reorganization of 
 the Cabinet and President Fillmore made Webster 
 Secretary of State, which took him out of the turmoil. 
 The compromise had a good effect outside of Massa- 
 chusetts and the country cheered up. But Webster ap- 
 proached the next try for the Whig nomination as 
 Theodore Parker declared "a bankrupt politican in 
 desperate political circumstances, yearning for the 
 Presidency." 
 
RETIRING GRACEFULLY. 
 
 THE MILL-BOY.— WELL, DAN, I THINK THE WAY IS CLEAR NOW FOR THE VETERAN OF MONTEREY 
 AND BUENA VISTA. I DON'T SEE THAT THE INTERESTS OF THE COUNTRY DEMAND THAT I SHOULD 
 BE DEFEATED A FOURTH TIME. 
 
 THF GOD-LIKE.— TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH, SO THAT- YOU DON'T RUN. I'M SATISFIED TO POSTPONE 
 MY SOUTHERN TOUR. SO THEN. LET'S HURRA FOR OLD ROUGH AND READY! 
 
 CLAY AND WEBSTER 
 
 An unusually interesting cartoon showing these two loaders in conference. 
 From Yankee Doodle, May 1, 1847 
 
Daniel Webster 121 
 
 He had been kept pretty busy as Secretary of State. 
 The Clayton-Bulwer Treaty affecting the Isthmus and 
 the Lopez expedition to Cuba gave him much to do, 
 which as was his wont he accomplished ably. 
 
 The Whig convention met at Baltimore June 16, 
 1852. Franklin Pierce had already been named by the 
 Democrats, on his Mexican war record. It was a gath- 
 ering from which ordinarily Webster could have ex- 
 pected much. His friend Rufus Choate was there. So 
 was William Pitt Fessenden, of Maine; John Sherman, 
 of Ohio; Henry L. Dawes, of Massachusetts; William 
 M. Evarts, of New York; E. D. Baker, of Illinois; 
 William L. Dayton of New Jersey; and John M. Clay- 
 ton of Delaware, most of whom were soon to be siz- 
 able figures in the new Republican party. Millard 
 Fillmore was a candidate for renomination, while Web- 
 ster came, as James Ford Rhodes writes it, to demand 
 the nomination as a right rather than "to be begged 
 for." Least likely to win of all was Lieutenant General 
 Winfield Scott, conqueror of Mexico, and of all the 
 men in sight the least fitted for the honor. 
 
 Fillmore had not hesitated to enforce the fugitive 
 slave law, or to use patronage in collecting delegates 
 of which he had a good supply, mainly from the South. 
 Henry Clay had endorsed him from the edge of the 
 grave. After three days of endeavor a platform was 
 constructed which met the views of the South, Web- 
 ster and his supporters. It "received and acquiesced" 
 in the fugitive slave law and insisted on its strict en- 
 forcement. Rufus Choate was spokesman for the reso- 
 lution, endorsing it, even though he came from Boston. 
 He thanked God for the courage (that of Webster 
 
122 Daniel Webster 
 
 and Clay) that had brought about the compromise. He 
 was surpassingly eloquent and earned loud applause, 
 which was not joined in by John Minor Botts, of Vir- 
 ginia, who had the Scott boom in custody. He reproved 
 Choate for exalting Webster instead of advocating the 
 platform which the clever orator used as an excuse for 
 giving Webster another boost to win: "What a reputa- 
 tion that must be, what a patriotism that must be, what 
 a long and brilliant series of public services that must 
 be, when you cannot mention a measure of utility like 
 this but every eye spontaneously turns to, and every 
 voice, spontaneously utters, that great name of Daniel 
 Webster." 
 
 One Ohio man made a speech against the resolution 
 but it passed 237 to 66. The 66 were Scott men from 
 the North. The shrewd influence of William H. Se- 
 ward was behind Scott as well as this group of dele- 
 gates. He and Fillmore were at odds in New York. 
 When nominations became in order, Webster, Fill- 
 more and Scott were named. The first roll call brought 
 Webster but a pitiful 29 votes. Fillmore had 133; 
 Scott 131, though no one knew how he stood on the 
 fugitive slave law. In truth they all wished to put it 
 out of the picture. Fillmore had enforced it and Web- 
 ster had aided its passage. The balloting went on tedi- 
 ously with little change until fifty ballots had been 
 taken. Then the South sidled toward Scott. Webster's 
 best total had been 31. On the fifty-third ballot Scott 
 stood 159, Fillmore 112. The big General had carried 
 off the prize and the greatest American of his day was 
 a very bad third. His "right" had been ruthlessly ig- 
 nored. The convention was hunting a winner. It had 
 
Daniel Webster 123 
 
 won with one general and thought it could do so with 
 another. Fillmore and Webster were friends. The 
 President had written a letter to be presented at the 
 proper moment withdrawing his name, in the hope of 
 saving Webster if he could not win himself. The letter 
 was withheld. Important men from the South like 
 Robert Toombs and Alexander H. Stephens did their 
 best for Webster. They truly thought a break would 
 nominate him as they counted on 106 votes from the 
 South. Seward really sealed his doom by holding the 
 New York delegation solid for Scott. Webster him- 
 self had framed and polished the platform. In this 
 mean fashion the God-like Daniel departed from pub- 
 lic life. William A. Graham, of North Carolina, Fill- 
 more's secretary of the Navy was nominated for Vice- 
 President. 
 
 Webster was named for President by a Union Con- 
 vention held in Georgia and by some New Jersey "Na- 
 tional Americans" at Trenton. Massachusetts also se- 
 lected a set of Webster electors. To all these he paid 
 no attention. There was a revulsion in Massachusetts. 
 On July 9, 1 85 1, he was given a great welcome in Bos- 
 ton and made a tactful, gracious address in apprecia- 
 tion. "Massachusetts, There she stands" has become 
 the state's motto. He did not live to see his party's 
 defeat and extinction. Like Clay he was to depart 
 before the day of disaster. In September, 1852, feeble 
 and without spirit he retired to Marshfield, his Mass- 
 achusetts estate, where he awaited dissolution with 
 dignity and decorum. Sunday, October 24th, the end 
 came gently, "I shall die tonight," he told his physician 
 the day before. u You are right, sir/' was the response. 
 
124 Daniel Webster 
 
 At a little past midnight he slipped away, his last whis- 
 per being, "I still live." 
 
 They carried him to the quiet acre in Marshfield 
 without the parade that had followed Clay to his rest. 
 But the country tolled its bells and men everywhere 
 knew a giant had fallen. 
 
Photograph by Metropolitan Museum of Art 
 
 WINFIELD SCOTT 
 From a painting - by R. W. Weir 
 
VII 
 WINFIELD SCOTT 
 
 WHAT sort of personage was it who could put 
 to rout a President firmly installed in of- 
 fice and shut out the greatest orator and 
 statesman the country ever produced? Picture to your- 
 self a mountain of a man, six feet four inches tall, in 
 his stocking feet, with shoulders half as broad, bearing 
 enormous epaulets of gold tinsel, and further enlarged 
 to circus-giant size by high-heeled boots and a huge 
 cocked hat surmounted by a towering mass of waving 
 plumes and you have Lieutenant-General Winfield 
 Scott, commander-in-chief of the United States army 
 from 1841 to 1861. 
 
 He took proper pride in his majestic proportions 
 and was accounted handsome even if the spiteful Myra 
 Clark Gaines, wife of an envious fellow-general, Ed- 
 mund P. Gaines, once declared that his pursed up lips 
 could u be covered with a button. " The mouth was cer- 
 tainly small in so vast a face and outside of eating he 
 did not know how to use it — or rather his tongue. 
 That unruly member often made him ridiculous. On 
 the side of feeding himself the mouth did better. He 
 had gustatory talent of an unusual character and knew 
 how to cook as well as how to fight — and in the latter 
 
 12s 
 
126 Winfield Scott 
 
 quality he ranked superior from Lundy's Lane to 
 Chapultepec. He would often don an apron and take 
 a turn in the kitchen to bring out the perfect flavor of 
 a Virginia ham, a wild turkey or choice oysters from 
 some special Chesapeake Bay creek. Moreover he 
 could cook a canvas-back duck to perfection, stew ter- 
 rapin into a dish of delight and roast a haunch of ven- 
 ison admirably. He was, too, an expert at compounding 
 salad and would objurgate the guest who cut his let- 
 tuce instead of breaking it. Beyond all he had mastered 
 the art of making bread. Also he was a judge of vint- 
 ages and liked soup. 
 
 The two last named tastes injured what was in 
 most respects a reputation nearly as majestic as his 
 person. The use of wine was regarded by the majority 
 of his democratic fellow citizens as an aristocratic 
 habit affected by kings and dukes. It was sternly 
 frowned upon, while corn whisky such as Henry Clay 
 drank was considered au fait. They disapproved of 
 Daniel Webster's brandy, even though attractively 
 served in juleps. Soup was a specialty of the despised, 
 frog-eating French and in no respect could be called 
 lit for real men, such as all true Americans, were. 
 
 However, his little dinners were delectable. He was 
 justly proud of his culinary accomplishments. Add to 
 this his repute as a successful soldier, with knowledge 
 of affairs, civil as well as miltiary, a character without 
 blemish, a kindly attitude toward all men and women. 
 He also possessed a blunt frankness that gave him a 
 reputation for indiscretion. This he deserved, but 
 amply offset it by his truthfulness and honesty. It will 
 be seen that he was a personage as well as a Whig who 
 
Winfield Scott 127 
 
 was distinguished enough to sit Clay and Webster on 
 his right and left hand. 
 
 Scott was a Virginian, born in Dinwiddie County, 
 near Fredericksburg, June 13, 1785, and properly 
 proud of the fact, though he never allowed regard for 
 the Commonwealth to get ahead of his affection for 
 the United States. He became a student at the College 
 of William and Mary at Williamsburg, then the in- 
 tellectual center of the South. Taking on the study of 
 law, he was admitted to the bar in 1806, and did some 
 practicing. His was a military, not a legal mind, and 
 his love of arms with its incidental splendor led him 
 into the regular service, becoming a captain of field 
 artillery, in 1808. He had been stirred into this step by 
 the attack of the British frigate Leopard on our Chesa- 
 peake which put shame upon the navy and set the land 
 aflame with resentment. The little army was spruced 
 up for the inevitable conflict with Britain. Thus room 
 was found toward the top for the handsome young 
 giant. He had only four years to wait before hostili- 
 ties were declared on the part of the United States, 
 weak alike on land and sea, but very valiant, and de- 
 termined to assert its rights. 
 
 The naval record of the war shines with glory; that 
 on land was dimmed by defeat. Washington was 
 raided, the Capitol and White House burned, but the 
 chief fighting was along the Canadian border from 
 Detroit to Plattsburg. General William Hull's igno- 
 minious surrender at Detroit, and James Wilkinson's 
 sorry showing in North-western New York are tales 
 we do not like to dwell upon. In the midst of the wel- 
 ter Scott was destined to appear as an unconquerable 
 
128 Winfield Scott 
 
 figure. Wilkinson was commander-in-chief of the army, 
 having won that place largely by his treachery to 
 Aaron Burr and Scott was in trouble with him before 
 the war broke. In March, 1812, he had, because of his 
 legal training been Judge Advocate in the trial of Colo- 
 nel Cushing, a celebrated case in its day, that made 
 him prominent in the service and led to a clash with 
 his commander. He expressed some opinions of the 
 gentleman that were out of accord with discipline, was 
 arrested and brought before a court martial. He was 
 found guilty of "speaking with contempt and disre- 
 spect of his commanding officer" and was suspended 
 for a year. The good man could never control his 
 tongue. The war brushed aside his indiscretion. He 
 was promoted to Lieutenant-Colonel of Izard's Second 
 regiment of artillery and from then on grew in size. 
 He began to show his talents first in the fighting 
 around Niagara, was in the assault on Queenstown, in 
 which disaster he was taken prisoner and sent to Que- 
 bec, to be exchanged a month later. One wonders if 
 the British got as good a soldier in return. General 
 Dearborn speedily made him Adjutant-General. May 
 27, 1 8 13, he led the successful attack on Fort George. 
 Promoted to a colonelcy in July, he resigned as Ad- 
 jutant-General and was given command of Fort 
 George. After some activity he wintered in Albany, 
 New York; there promoted to be Brigadier-General in 
 the spring. Chippewa, Lundy's Lane and Bridgewater 
 followed. The army was put in the ascendant. For 
 these victories he was brevetted Major-General, given 
 a vote of thanks and a gold medal by Congress, a 
 sword by Petersburg, another by the State of Virginia 
 
Winfield Scott 129 
 
 and a degree of A.M. by Princeton. Virginia also 
 named a new county after him. Severe wounds com- 
 pelled him to quit the field and he was appointed Com- 
 mander of the Tenth Military District. Scott, as a 
 young attorney, had looked in at the trial of Aaron 
 Burr at Richmond. When he received his General's 
 commission at Albany, some friends gave him a dinner. 
 One of the guests was Burr. He was placed opposite. 
 Looking keenly at the tall young warrior, Burr ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 "General Scott, I've seen you before." 
 
 "Have you, indeed." 
 
 "Yes, I saw you at my trial." 
 
 Scott once had the honor of being challenged to 
 fight a duel by no less personage than Andrew Jackson. 
 In 18 17 Jackson's arbitrary actions in Florida had 
 laid him open to much criticism. Scott was among the 
 critics. He was quoted to Jackson as having described 
 his course as "an act of mutiny" in an anonymous let- 
 ter. Scott stood his ground. He admitted that Jackson 
 was his superior in rank, but not his commanding of- 
 ficer. He added that if he had been in his division he 
 would not have hesitated to have expressed the opinon 
 he held — that Jackson's order of April 22, 18 17, was 
 mutinous in its character. Jackson sent back a long and 
 furious reply, ending in a challenge. Scott declined to 
 fight for religious reasons, and suggested it would be 
 easy for Jackson to console himself by "the applica- 
 tion of a few epithets, as coward, etc." He further re- 
 marked amiably that as the letter had been written in 
 the heat of passion he would keep it private and give 
 the writer a chance to cool off. Jackson, however, made 
 
130 Winfield Scott 
 
 public the correspondence. Six years later when the 
 Tennessean came to the Senate, Scott apprised him 
 that "I have been six days in your immediate vicinity 
 without having attracted your notice" and advising 
 him that as it was the first time he had been within a 
 hundred miles of him, "I shall not leave the district 
 before the morning of the 14th instant." 
 
 Jackson concluded to interpret the note as an olive 
 branch and replied that whenever Scott might feel like 
 meeting him on friendly terms, he would greet him in 
 like spirit. They got on civilly thereafter. 
 
 As already stated President Jackson sent him to 
 Charleston during the nullification troubles. Here he 
 did more by his social graces than in a military sense in 
 calming that exclusive community. The war with the 
 Seminole Indians kept his hand in practice and he 
 ended that long drawn out conflict in 1836-7. In 1839 
 the "Aroostook War" developed between Maine and 
 the Province of New Brunswick over the border line 
 between the two. Maine militia hurried to the excited 
 spot and General Scott was commanded by President 
 Van Buren to oversee events. Here again his urbanity 
 smoothed out the situation, which Daniel Webster set- 
 tled by diplomacy. 
 
 In 1 841 he became head of the regular army. This 
 brought him to Washington where he filled a large 
 political and social place and was held in high esteem 
 for his fine qualities as an officer and a gentleman. He 
 was the epitome of both. But he was quick of temper, 
 much given to reciting his intimacies with the great at 
 home and abroad, a careless user of words and un- 
 considered criticism, that, added to his undoubted, if 
 
Winfield Scott 131 
 
 < 1 ii — — ^— — — — — M < 
 
 harmless vanity, made him easily a source of laughter. 
 To be laughed at is fatal to ambition for the presi- 
 dency. In a military sense he was considered somewhat 
 archaic also. Mrs. Jefferson Davis records that when 
 her husband raised the Mississippi rifles for service in 
 Mexico, he consulted Scott, under whom he had served 
 while in the regular army. It was his desire to arm his 
 men with Whitney rifles made in New Haven by the 
 firm founded by Eli Whitney, inventor of the Cotton 
 Gin, which made the staple king. Scott advised limit- 
 ing the riflemen to four companies, pointing out that 
 they would be a good ways from the factory, and the 
 caps unreliable, while flints could be had anywhere. 
 One of Scott's whimsies was to recommend the use of 
 French words in giving orders. He laid this down in 
 his "System of Tactics." General Gaines, who drawled 
 in speech was once asked what he thought of it. "I 
 think" he replied, "that a — the — a English language 
 is a — sufficiently copious — to express — a — all the ideas 
 that — a — General Scott will — a — ever have." 
 
 The political and military complexities of the Mexi- 
 can War have been sufficiently described in the pre- 
 vious chapters. Scott found himself before Vera Cruz, 
 amid a huddle of transports and a muddle of mix-ups. 
 He made short work of the siege and soon his forces 
 were on shore. Here most of the time the big general 
 was not magnificent. He wore light, loose clothes and 
 a wide-brimmed straw hat to ward off the heat of the 
 climate, which, with other vexations made him testy. 
 One of these was a feud with Commodore Mathew 
 Calbraith Perry, who tried to negotiate with Santa 
 Anna direct concerning sundry seamen who had been 
 
132 Winfield Scott 
 
 taken prisoners in the assault on Vera Cruz. Perry sent 
 Lieutenant Raphael Semmes on this mission. Scott 
 would not let him proceed under his flag of truce to 
 Mexico City, nor would Perry permit him to return 
 to the squadron with his mission unfulfilled. Accord- 
 ingly the lieutenant assuming the role of unofficial ob- 
 server trailed the army to the capital, seeing much 
 that was worth while and putting it all into a very en- 
 tertaining volume. He was to be heard from again as 
 the commander of the Confederate cruiser Alabama. 
 
 His forces landed, Scott did a good job under dif- 
 ficult conditions. He was in a foreign land, his troops 
 were mainly raw, including the regulars whose ranks 
 had been filled by newly arrived immigrants, and his 
 support from Washington was far from reliable. Not- 
 withstanding he fought his way from the sea to Mex- 
 ico City, up a 7,000 foot grade and was always vic- 
 torious. The capital was taken in a series of gallant 
 actions. He entered the city in the full splendor of all 
 his bullion trimmed uniform and feathered chapeau. 
 [No one can complain of his pomp. The army behind 
 him was ragged and footsore, but exulted with him in 
 the Halls of the Montezumas. 
 
 In bringing about peace Scott acted kindly and 
 intelligently. Secretary of the Treasury, Robert J. 
 Walker, evidently expected him to emulate the Spanish 
 Conquistadores and send back ship-loads of silver. 
 None came and he had to borrow to fill the govern- 
 ment coffers. 
 
 There was plenty of glory for Scott and Taylor but 
 none for James K. Polk. Scott had not played politics, 
 but no sooner had he truimphed than General Gideon 
 
-//oef^/rsc 
 
 THE GREAT WAR COMET OF 1861. 
 
 WINFIELD SCOTT, THE WAR HERO 
 
 A striking cartoon of the ranking General at the outbreak of the Civil War. 
 From Vanity Fair, August 3, 1861 
 
Winfield Scott 133 
 
 J. Pillow, Polk's law partner sent letters to the New 
 Orleans Delta belittling him. He was one of the politi- 
 cal generals who had been a nuisance in the campaign 
 and in his communications gave Generals Worth and 
 Duncan all the credit. Scott issued orders to stop the 
 writing, with the result that he was defied and put the 
 three under arrest. He himself had been critical of 
 his commander-in-chief, the President, and of William 
 L. Marcy, Secretary of War, his superior. The accused 
 officers were released from duress without trial and 
 Scott was recalled. He left the army on April 22, 
 1848, greatly to the regret of the men who had fought 
 under him and who bore their gallant leader great re- 
 gard. 
 
 The Whig Convention met in Philadelphia on June 
 1, 1848. Taylor led from the start for the Presidential 
 nomination with 1 1 1 votes, but Scott was not without 
 friends. They polled him 43 votes and these increased 
 to 49 on the second ballot. On the fourth his total 
 reached 54, but Taylor gaining 171 was declared the 
 candidate. 
 
 If the Whig Party or the Polk administration was 
 not appreciative Congress was. It gave Scott a vote of 
 thanks, a gold medal and the brevet of Lieutenant- 
 General, a new rank in our army, which soon became 
 almost too small to accommodate it. Located in Wash- 
 ington the General resumed his position as a command- 
 ing figure. The Kansas-Nebraska situation flamed up 
 and the embers of Calhoun's policy began to glow. 
 Scott felt that the country was "on the eve of a terrible 
 civil war." 
 
 The campaign of 1852 was next at hand. How Scott 
 
134 Winfield Scott 
 
 secured the Whig nomination has been told in the 
 chapter preceding. 
 
 With both parties accepting the fugitive slave law 
 and standing all fours on the Constitution the con- 
 test was sluggish and soon narrowed down to a contest 
 between the professional and the amateur soldiers. 
 There was much comparing of military records, to the 
 disparagement of both. There was a "Maine law" 
 temperance wave rolling over the land and Pierce's 
 taste for good wines was expanded into making him 
 a drunken sot. Scott's "hasty plate of soup" came up to 
 plague him, supplemented by his use of a vulgar ex- 
 pression when appraised of his nomination by the 
 committee, that indicated they had found him with 
 his unmentionables detached from his suspenders. To 
 the Whigs Scott was a hero and Pierce a coward. To 
 the Democrats Scott was "Old Fuss and Feathers," a 
 mountain of flesh and egotism. A flood of Irish im- 
 migrants had poured into the country following the 
 famine of 1846. This had given a start to know-noth- 
 ingism that was now strong. Scott, asked for his stand 
 on the question of alien citizenship, hesitated "between 
 extending the period of residence before naturalization 
 and a total repeal of all acts of Congress on the sub- 
 ject," with a mental inclination toward the latter. 
 
 Naturally this did not help him with the foreign 
 element, already numerous in the seacoast cities. The 
 scurrilities were out of place. Both candidates were 
 gentlemen, and so rated each other. It was hard how- 
 ever to restrain their following. Scott, of course out- 
 shone Pierce in the matter of military prestige. To 
 begin with, he had been at it longer. The Whigs 
 
Winfield Scott 135 
 
 harked back to Lundy's Lane in a prodigious effort to 
 enthuse the uninterested, but that gallant event was 
 nearly forty years old and made small appeal to a 
 new generation. The Mexican War was nearer, but 
 the names were hard to pronounce and there was not 
 much to brag of after all in licking the "Greasers." 
 
 Scott's speeches were gems of indiscretion. Heckled 
 by a voice with a Celtic twang in Cleveland he ejacu- 
 lated: "I hear that rich brogue; I love to hear it. It 
 makes me remember the noble deeds of Irishmen, 
 many of whom I have led to battle and to victory." 
 He might have added that he had shot and hanged not 
 a few of them in Mexico. Many of the new arrivals at 
 Castle Garden had been inveigled into enlisting and 
 finding campaigning in the tropics uncomfortable, 
 deserted freely, for which they could not be greatly 
 blamed. Numerous Mexican families date from these 
 changes in alliances. The Irish were not alone in this. 
 There was a German inflow at the same time, upon 
 which the army drew. The General informed a Teu- 
 tonic delegation at Columbus, coming to seek favor, 
 that he had hanged fifteen of their fellows in Mexico ! 
 
 He "slopped over" right and left. He did not dis- 
 cuss issues, partly because there were none which either 
 party cared to debate, and because the gruff old fellow 
 lacked the finesse to deal with them. James Gordon 
 Bennett, of the New York Herald, who was support- 
 ing Pierce, put fifty-two of Scott's speeches into a cam- 
 paign sheet and labelled them: "The Modern Epic, 
 Fifty-Two Speeches by Major-General Winfield Scott, 
 embracing a narrative of a trip to the Blue Licks and 
 back to Washington in search of a site for a military 
 
136 Winfield Scott 
 
 hospital. The Illiad of the Nineteenth Century.'' The 
 New York Tribune was the leading Whig organ. It 
 could not swallow the acquiescence of the party with 
 slavery nor follow the meanderings of Scott. It treated 
 Pierce respectfully and did not warm up during the 
 campaign. Bennett was immensely helpful to the Dem- 
 ocrats. The Whigs carried but four states, Vermont, 
 Kentucky, Massachusetts and Tennessee, giving Scott 
 42 electoral votes. Pierce captured all the other states 
 and had 254, with a plurality of 220,896. The country 
 had registered its endorsement of the compromise and 
 its disapproval of anti-slavery agitation. It also dis- 
 posed of fuss and feathers. Pierce had made no cam- 
 paign, remaining in quiet dignity at his home in 
 Concord. The Free-Soil vote was negligible. The coun- 
 try felt itself safe and in wise hands. 
 
 Why did the Whigs select Scott? Fillmore stood 
 well with the country and Webster towered above him 
 like a mountain over a mole-hill. Two soldiers, Harri- 
 son and Taylor, had given the party its two victories. 
 It was only logical to expect success with a third, the 
 most distinguished of them all. To the chastening of 
 defeat was added the fact in the President he had over 
 him a former subordinate, who added to this humilia- 
 tion the further one of making Jefferson Davis Secre- 
 tary of War. Davis was a West-Pointer and took 
 over all the real duties of running the army, among 
 other things sending light artillery to hunt Indians on 
 the plains of Kansas and Nebraska, to the infinite 
 disgust of Scott, who transferred his headquarters 
 from Washington to New York and was only nomi- 
 nally in power for four years. Mrs. Davis pokes a bit 
 
Winfie ld Scott 137 
 
 of fun at him in her memoir of her husband, in relating 
 an incident that occurred at a dinner to which the Sec- 
 retary had invited a very handsome young army cap- 
 tain named George B. McClellan to whom he had 
 taken a great fancy, and over whom Scott at once "as- 
 sumed a protectorate. " 
 
 General Totten, [she writes] and he (McClellan) were 
 talking about trap-rock in an undertone while General Scott 
 was explaining to the Comte de Sartige how to cook terrapin, 
 'mixing the wine with a judicious flavoring of spice, but no 
 flour, sir — not a grain.' Captain McClellan had just then 
 uttered the word 'trap!' General Scott set his fork rampant and 
 called across the table, 'no, sir, I say, no ! they are never caught 
 in a trap!' General Totten explained in his debonair way that 
 they were speaking of trap-rock, but the General gave us a dis- 
 quisition on the proper manner of chasing buffalo upon the 
 plains, and wound up with the announcement, 'I have never 
 heard of their being caught in a trap, Sir.' 
 
 Davis resigned his post to become once more Sena- 
 tor from Mississippi and Congress made Scott full 
 Lieutenant-General, January 15, 1855. From that time 
 on he was a show figure in Washington society. The 
 tense Kansas situation in 1856, growing as much out 
 of the inaction of Congress as from any other reason, 
 caused Senator J. J. Crittenden, of Kentucky, to insist 
 that General Scott be sent to the perturbed territory, 
 as one "who in such a contest carries the sword in his 
 left hand ; and in his right peace, gentle peace." The 
 Democrats in Congress did not care to use a man who 
 had so recently been in the political field against them, 
 so nothing came of the suggestion. When the October 
 
138 Winfield Scott 
 
 elections indicated plainly the coming triumph of Lin- 
 coln and the Republicans in November, he wrote to 
 President Buchanan on October 29, i860, urging that 
 the Federal forts, below Mason and Dixon's line, 
 should be garrisoned at once, so strongly as to be 
 proof against surprise. As he coupled this with very 
 unwarlike suggestions favoring peaceful disunion, the 
 President did not respond affirmatively, fearing rightly 
 that a military move would start a war at his hands. 
 He preferred to leave it to his successor. 
 
 Following the election with the choice of Mr. 
 Lincoln, state after state seceded, the crisis fast took 
 shape. Major Robert Anderson shifted his command 
 from Fort Moultrie to the safer walls of Sumter, with 
 the result that a committee was sent from Charleston 
 to demand from the President its return to Moultrie. 
 He received them as "private gentlemen" and seem- 
 ingly yielded: J. S. Black, Joseph Holt and Edwin M. 
 Stanton, who had joined the cabinet, stiffened his back 
 so that he finally refused in firm terms, to issue the 
 order. Scott supported this stand, pleaded again for 
 the sending of reinforcements and asked permission to 
 do so. This was assented to #nd he prepared to embark 
 two hundred men from Fortress Monroe on board the 
 Brooklyn, Captain David G. Farragut, who was pretty 
 certain to deliver them. He had been in Charleston 
 with Scott in the nullification experience. The ship did 
 not start. Mr. Buchanan asked Scott to delay until he 
 heard from the commissioners, as a matter of polite- 
 ness. To this the General assented. The reply arrived 
 January 2, 1861, couched in such terms that Mr. 
 Buchanan refused to receive it. "It is now all over," he 
 
Winfield Scott 139 
 
 remarked to Holt, "and reinforcements must be sent." 
 Here, however, he failed again. Some doubt as to 
 whether the Brooklyn could cross the Charleston bar, 
 caused the substitution of an unarmed transport, the 
 Star of the West, for the warship, with Captain John 
 McGovern, instead of Farragut. A few shots from a 
 battery on Morris Island and Fort Moultrie sent him 
 back North and mightily increased Charleston's con- 
 tumacy. 
 
 The die was now cast. Scott became active as adviser 
 to Buchanan but could not gain from him the power 
 to reinforce the forts. Senator Preston King, of New 
 York, writing to John Bigelow, January 26, 1861, 
 thought Scott could protect the capital. He and Holt 
 were working together and the General expected to 
 have one thousand regulars on hand to guard against 
 eventualities. Salmon P. Chase, arriving at Washing- 
 ton from Ohio to become Mr. Lincoln's Secretary of 
 the Treasury found only one man "Who seemed to me 
 to deserve to be called distinguished. That man was 
 General Scott." 
 
 March 3, 1861, the day before Lincoln's inaugura- 
 tion, General Scott wrote "in haste" as usual, a letter 
 to his former Whig associate William H. Seward, 
 slated to be Secretary of State on "the highly disor- 
 ganized condition of our (so late) happy and glorious 
 Union." It contained four points designed to save the 
 country. The first suggested that the Republican party 
 "throw off its old and assume a new designation — the 
 Union party," and accept the pending Crittenden com- 
 promise. Unless this were done, the remaining slave 
 states were certain to secede and Washington, "being 
 
140 Winfield Scott 
 
 n -i-„iim ■ 
 
 included in a foreign country, would require a per- 
 manent garrison of at least 35,000 men to protect the 
 government within it." The second idea was to avoid 
 a clash by collecting duties "outside the ports of which 
 the government has lost the command or close such 
 ports by Act of Congress and blockade them." The 
 third: "Conquer the seceding states by invading ar- 
 mies." This he thought could be done in two or three 
 years by "a young and able general — a Wolfe, a 
 Desaix, or a Hoche — with 300,000 disciplined men." 
 To great loss of life and property he saw added a 
 debt of $250,000,000 and "fifteen devastated prov- 
 inces," not to be brought into harmony with their con- 
 querors," but to be "held for generations by heavy 
 garrisons, at an expense quadruple the net duties or 
 taxes which it would be possible to extract from them, 
 followed by a protector or an emperor." The fourth 
 idea probably represented his real feeling: "Say to the 
 seceded states — 'wayward sisters, depart in peace.' ' 
 In this last he was far from alone. Horace Greeley 
 and many others agreed with him. Virginia was not yet 
 out. Thurlow Weed was of opinion that Scott would 
 not be very willing to coerce his native state. He did 
 on March 12th, advise the new President to evacuate 
 Sumter, as something "almost inevitable" rightly sens- 
 ing that it could not stand a long siege. Lincoln sent 
 two personal friends, Congressmen S. A. Hurlbert, of 
 Illinois, and Ward H. Lamon to Charleston to feel 
 out the situation and report back; also Assistant Sec- 
 retary of the Navy, Gustavus V. Fox, to survey the 
 fortifications and see if they could be successfully 
 succored by a relief expedition. Hurlbert and Lamon 
 
Winfield Scott 141 
 
 saw no hope of conciliation and Fox was sure warships 
 could get by. Events led to the firing on Sumter before 
 this could be tested out. 
 
 Scott was now much in the public eye of the North. 
 It hailed him as the great warrior who would sweep 
 the rebellion off the face of the landscape with a few 
 waves of his sword. Vanity Fair, the New York comic 
 paper, edited by Charles Godfrey Leland, printed one 
 cartoon picturing him astride an eagle scattering the 
 Confederacy, and another as an all-terrifying comet 
 with a glittering tail of bayonets. The disaster at Bull 
 Run showed the South was not scared so easily. Scott 
 was opposed to the encounter, but it was forced by 
 clamor. Blame was allowed to fall mainly on Simon 
 Cameron, Secretary of War, who deserved much of it. 
 
 Scott knew the task lay beyond his powers. He was 
 seventy-five and had worn the harness for fifty-three 
 years. So on October 31, 1 861, he laid down his sword. 
 
 For more than three years, [he wrote Cameron in resigning,] 
 I have been unable from a hurt to mount a horse, or walk 
 more than a few paces at a time, and that with much pain. 
 Other and new infirmities — dropsy and vertigo, admonish me 
 that repose of mind and body, with the appliances of surgery 
 and medicine, are necessary to add a little more to a life already 
 much protracted beyond the usual span of man. It is under such 
 circumstances — made doubly painful by the unnatural and un- 
 just rebellion now raging in the Southern states of our (so late) 
 prosperous and happy Union — that I am compelled to request 
 that my name be placed on the list of army officers retired from 
 active service. 
 
 His letter was laid before a special cabinet meeting 
 
142 Winfield Scott 
 
 the same day, where with a sense of gratitude for past 
 services and relief in the crisis, it was decided to place 
 him on the retired list with the full pay of his rank. 
 The cabinet proceeded in a body to General Scott's 
 residence and there with many expressions of good 
 will and affection, advised him of their action. Deeply 
 moved the fine old man made an address full of fervor 
 and patriotism. The next day, November i, 1861, Mr. 
 Lincoln issued the order for his retirement. "The 
 American people" he added to the formal words, "will 
 hear with sadness and deep emotion that General 
 Scott has withdrawn from active control of the army, 
 while the President and unanimous Cabinet express 
 their own and the nation's sympathy in his personal 
 affliction, and their profound sense of the important 
 public services rendered by him to his country dur- 
 ing his long and brilliant career, among which will 
 ever be gratefully distinguished his faithful devotion 
 to the Constitution, the Union and the flag when as- 
 sailed by parracidal rebellion." 
 
 On the same day Mr. Lincoln made Major-General 
 George B. McClellan Commander-in-Chief. He had 
 been impatient with Scott and was now to be given an 
 opportunity to show his mettle, with results that will 
 be told later. Scott at once went to Europe, where he 
 located in Paris. Here he encountered the probabil- 
 ities of a war with England growing out of the taking 
 of Messrs. Mason and Slidell off the British Steamer 
 Trent. John Bigelow, then in charge of our affairs in 
 France, thought the old gentlemen, who stood well 
 abroad, could be used to advantage in putting out a 
 conciliatory letter. Thurlow Weed was in Paris at the 
 
Winfield Scott 143 
 
 time and undertook to prepare the General's mind 
 for the move. Bigelow wrote the note, which Scott 
 promptly signed. It was given out as to a friend, who 
 was presumably disturbed, and assured him that Eng- 
 land had no grounds for concern "if, as her rulers pro- 
 fess, she has no disposition to encourage dissensions 
 in America." He gave extended reasons to show "that 
 an event so mutually disastrous as a war between Eng- 
 land and America cannot occur without other and 
 graver provocation than has been given either nation." 
 This soothing note found echo in the views of Albert, 
 Prince Consort, and nothing happened beyond much 
 correspondence though the mischievous Lord Palmer- 
 ston wrote Queen Victoria that Scott was on a diplo- 
 matic mission to persuade France to join America 
 against England, and quoted him as saying that the 
 seizing of the envoys was ordered at a meeting of 
 Lincoln's cabinet at which he, Scott, was present. 
 There of course was not a vestige of truth in it. 
 
 So far as Scott was concerned he figured no more 
 beyond writing his autobiography. It showed a proper 
 appreciation of the merits of its subject, and roused 
 criticism by its egotism and frank conceit. He was 
 proud of himself and with just cause, but was not con- 
 tent to let others say it. The General lived to see the 
 triumph of Union arms, dying at West Point, May 29, 
 1866. 
 
VIII 
 JOHN CHARLES FREMONT 
 
 A PATHFINDER WHO LOST HIS WAY 
 
 NO more romantic figure looms in America than 
 John Charles Fremont, and no American did 
 more for his country, or received less in re- 
 turn. Son of another John Charles Fremont, who saw 
 the light in Lyons, France, and Anna Whiting, di- 
 vorced wife of Major John Pryor of Virginia, he was 
 born in Savannah, Georgia, January 2, 18 13. The 
 father and mother had been on a nomadic tour 
 through the South, camping out much on their way. 
 Perhaps this bred a pre-natal influence on his after life. 
 During a stop in Nashville, Tennessee, at the City 
 Hotel, September 4, 18 13, the couple were disturbed 
 by a shower of pistol bullets that smashed through the 
 walls of their room. These came from weapons set 
 in play by Andrew Jackson, Jesse and Thomas H. 
 Benton, who were striving to settle a difference out in 
 the hall. Thomas H. Benton was to come largely into 
 the then baby Fremont's life. 
 
 The senior Fremont wished to return to France, but 
 died in 18 18, with his desire unfulfilled. His widow 
 settled in Charleston, S. C. Here, as a small boy, Fre- 
 mont was apprenticed to law in John W. Mitchell's of- 
 fice. His beauty of person, and many graces, interested 
 
 144 
 
John Charles Fremont 145 
 
 the attorney, who caused him to be sent to a private 
 school conducted by Dr. John Robertson. This Scotch 
 instructor fitted boys for Charleston college, which 
 Fremont entered in due season. College did not appeal 
 to him. His hot young blood preferred outdoors, and 
 his good looks made him a favorite with young ladies. 
 The two passions spoiled him as a student, and he was 
 expelled when seventeen for inattention and insubordi- 
 nation, as the record states. Insubordination was to 
 plague him much in after life. 
 
 The brightness of his intellect, and his charm of 
 manner, kept him in friends. One of these was Joel R. 
 Poinsett, a very remarkable man, who occupied a con- 
 siderable place in the affairs of the day. Poinsett's in- 
 fluence procured the fiery youth a position as instructor 
 in mathematics on the Natchez sloop of war. He was 
 twenty when the ship sailed for the South American 
 station, and remained away three years. Passing an 
 examination, he secured the rating of professor of 
 mathematics. There was no naval academy then, and 
 would-be admirals were educated at the navy yards. 
 He declined a post at Norfolk, and became a civil en- 
 gineer, as railway building was beginning to engross 
 the attention of the enterprising. Among other things 
 he assisted in surveying the lands taken from the Cher- 
 okees in their shift to the Indian Territory. Poinsett, 
 now Secretary of War, had him appointed as second 
 lieutenant in the topographical corps. He was sent, 
 with Jean Francis Nicollet, to spy out the Northwest. 
 Two years were spent at this work. 
 
 Returning to Washington, richly laden with mate- 
 rial to be worked up in maps and reports, Fremont fell 
 
146 John Charles Fremont 
 
 in with the family of Senator Benton, who had shared 
 in the fusillade at Nashville that disturbed his infantile 
 sleep, and made the acquaintance of a charming daugh- 
 ter, Jessie Benton. Love at first sight was the result. 
 They were kept apart by parental disapproval, but 
 managed to elope on October 17, 1841. The bride was 
 then seventeen, the groom twenty-eight. They never 
 repented at leisure, but lived happily ever after, the 
 wife being a master influence in his life. 
 
 Nicollet had planned a new expedition to the far- 
 thest West, via the South Pass, at the headwaters of 
 the river Platte. Fremont was to be second in com- 
 mand. Ill health caused Nicollet to relinquish the plan, 
 and it was abandoned. The Oregon question having 
 arisen, Fremont pressed for the privilege of carrying 
 the flag to the Columbia. Finally, the attempt was au- 
 thorized, and on May 2, 1842, he started on the es- 
 say. Twenty-one men took part in the adventure, the 
 most famous and useful of whom was Kit Carson, the 
 scout. The party crossed Missouri, Kansas and Ne- 
 braska, then barely outlined, and pushed on to the 
 Rockies. 
 
 Here they fell in with James Bridger and a party 
 of Oregon emigrants in hard luck. They were on the 
 well defined Oregon trail. Fremont could have fol- 
 lowed this with little addition to knowledge, but turned 
 to the South Pass and the unknown beyond. June 21, 
 1842, the party left Fort Laramie and continued until 
 it reached the crest of the Wind River range, on a 
 mountain to which he gave his name, thinking he had 
 attained the highest altitude, though he had not. Satis- 
 
John Charles Fremont 147 
 
 fied with this exploit, the expedition now made its way 
 back to civilization. 
 
 In the spring of 1843, Fremont resumed his activ- 
 ities, starting from Kansas City on May 29th. He 
 added a 12-pound cannon to his equipment, word of 
 which reaching Washington, led to his recall, but his 
 wife, learning of it, sent word for him to depart 
 quickly, which he did, cannon and all, before the com- 
 mand caught him. The powers knew he had a sense of 
 adventure, and feared he might undertake a conquest 
 of Mexican domains, without other authority than his 
 own — as he afterwards did in California. 
 
 Fortunate, indeed, for the future of his country, 
 Fremont at once obeyed his wife's advice, and asked 
 no questions. The results of his enterprise were so re- 
 markable that, when he returned, the world rang with 
 his repute, and a great dominion was laid open to the 
 nation. He had found his way to the sour-ce of the 
 Colorado, the Green River valley, and the Great Salt 
 Lake of Utah, where the Mormons were soon to fol- 
 low. Thence he discovered a path to the Columbia. 
 Turning back, the return was more venturesome than 
 the advance. The march led into the Mexican terri- 
 tory of California via the Sacramento valley, where 
 Fremont fell in with John A. Sutter's fort, which was 
 to become soon a center of world interest through the 
 discovery of gold. This invasion of California was en- 
 tirely unauthorized. Mexico forbade the incoming of 
 all Americans. A caravan, with a 12-pounder, would 
 hardly have been welcomed, but the gun had to be 
 abandoned in the snow of the Sierra Nevada, and they 
 
148 John Charles Fremont 
 
 came to Sutter's fort starving. The course out of Cali- 
 fornia lay by Las Vegas, Nevada, then Mexican soil, 
 whence it followed the so-called Spanish trail. So the 
 bold explorers came again to Utah, and then to Bent's 
 Fort on the Arkansas, and crossed the prairies home. 
 Fourteen months of hardship had been endured without 
 loss of life, or a single day's sickness on the part of any 
 man. 
 
 The success of this expedition led to Fremont's pro- 
 motion by brevet to a captaincy. He handed in his re- 
 port to the Secretary of War on March 1, 1845. The 
 incident of the howitzer was overlooked, and his fame 
 filled the country. James K. Polk had just become Pres- 
 ident. Mexico had resented the acquisition of Texas, 
 which, though it had been established as a republic, 
 she had continued to regard as her possession. There 
 existed an excuse for war, Texas having claimed the 
 Rio Grande as the true border, while Mexico stood on 
 the Neuces. Warning had already come from the Gov- 
 ernment that any advance beyond that river meant 
 conflict. Her troops were mobilized to protest any fur- 
 ther invasion. 
 
 California, cut off from Mexico, meant much to the 
 United States. The Oregon line dispute was not cold, 
 and it was easily imagined that England might take 
 this fat slice of the Pacific coast. 
 
 Fremont's knowledge, and the success of his explo- 
 rations, made it only natural that he should become a 
 factor in this emergency. Senator Benton's influence 
 in the councils of the Administration was large. The 
 "eventualities of war were considered," Fremont 
 states, in his account of the affair, and "if not inter- 
 
John Charles Fremont 149 
 
 cepted by us, an English fleet would certainly take pos- 
 session of San Francisco Bay." 
 
 The "eventualities" caused him to be furnished with 
 a much larger force than those which had accompanied 
 previous expeditions. It was well armed and otherwise 
 equipped by a liberal appropriation, and proceeded 
 West in the summer of 1845, reaching Bent's Fort on 
 the Arkansas, on August 2nd. Another topographical 
 engineer, Lieutenant J. W. Abert, was detailed to ex- 
 amine the Southwest, preparing the way for the ac- 
 quisition of Arizona and New Mexico. This left Fre- 
 mont sixty men, including some Delaware Indians. 
 They moved into Colorado to the Royal Gorge, and 
 on up in the mountains to the head of White River. 
 Humbolt, Nevada, was the next point gained. Here he 
 split his party, to explore on separate lines and meet 
 at Walker Lake. This they reached in November. 
 They next worked across the Sierras, following a 
 path made some time before by the unfortunate Don- 
 ner party, coming into touch with a branch of the Bear 
 River that leads into the Sacramento valley. 
 
 Turning south from the rough emigrant road on 
 December 6th, they reached the north fork of the 
 American River, and a few days later were again at 
 Sutter's fort, where Fremont learned that his previous 
 visit had caused "some excitement among the Mexi- 
 can authorities." His second coming was destined to 
 cause a great deal more. "New Helvetia" was the 
 name of Sutter's domain. He was a Swiss, and had 
 been a captain under the great Napoleon. Because his 
 request for supplies was not complied with — only 
 through lack of them — Fremont thought it an echo of 
 
150 John Charles Fremont 
 
 the hostility he had a right to expect, and rode on to 
 Monterey with Kit Carson. Here the United States 
 had a Consul, Thomas O. Larkin, to whom he com- 
 municated his arrival, and returned to the main body 
 in time to beat off one hundred Indians who had at- 
 tacked it at the headwaters of the Mariposa. One of 
 the braves was killed. The next day another red man 
 was slain — wantonly, it would appear. Fremont ex- 
 plored what was to become his rich and troublesome 
 "Mariposa Grant." The other party had not joined at 
 Walker Lake, and so all returned to Sutter's, expect- 
 ing to find them there. They had not come. Fremont 
 once more journeyed to Monterey, stopping en route 
 at Yerba Buena, now San Francisco. He reached 
 Monterey on January 26, 1846, and proceeded to 
 make official visits. As commander of an armed force 
 he was hardly welcome. The governor, Pio Pico, was 
 not at home. He met the alcalde, the prefect and the 
 military commander, and asked permission to spend 
 the winter in the country. This, the general, Don Jose 
 Castro, granted. The others now came in, giving Fre- 
 mont sixty-two well armed and mounted men. An old 
 ranch near Mt. Hamilton, where the Lick Observa- 
 tory now stands, was fixed up for quarters, and from it 
 exploring parties were sent out. 
 
 A considerable number of American adventurers 
 were already in the country, and there had been civil 
 strife before. Now the presence of Fremont and his 
 band roused a new desire to acquire control. Governor 
 Pico had already been warned to allow no more 
 gringos in the country, and there was a strong impulse 
 
John Charles Fremont 151 
 
 to expel those already there, which naturally stiffened 
 the desire for revolt. 
 
 On March 8, 1846, Fremont was served with per- 
 emptory orders to depart. He was there with an armed 
 force, without any sort of permit from the Mexican 
 government, and his departure was in order. Instead 
 of going, he shifted his ground to Gavilan Peak, where 
 he erected a stockade and defied the ukase. A troop of 
 Mexican cavalry appearing, he laid an ambuscade for 
 them, which they, luckily for themselves, unconsciously 
 evaded. Castro was massing troops, and Fremont's 
 company moved to the Touloumne River and thence to 
 Mount Shasta, "exploring" as they went. Swinging 
 about, they kept moving in the region of Sacramento, 
 keeping within easy stage of Yerba Buena. 
 
 The first clash with Mexico on the Rio Grande oc- 
 curred April 24, 1846. Of course Fremont did not 
 know this, but he was obviously expecting it to happen. 
 They were attacked by Klamath Indians. Basil Le- 
 juenesse, his favorite guide, was killed. Denny, a half- 
 breed, and Crane, a Delaware, also lost their lives. 
 May nth, they retaliated on the Klamaths, and the 
 Delawares took a couple of scalps. The Klamath vil- 
 lage was burned. There was more fighting, but Fre- 
 mont regained Sacramento, and now changed from ex- 
 plorer to conqueror. 
 
 April 30, 1846, Consul Larkin had been advised 
 that the American residents must prepare to face ex- 
 pulsion, and soon further instructions came that they 
 were to be driven out. Washington had not overlooked 
 this contingency, and Commodore J. D. Sloat, com- 
 
152 John Charles Fremont 
 
 manding the Pacific squadron, had been told to meet 
 any hostile act by hoisting the American flag and seiz- 
 ing the harbors, especially the very good one at Yerba 
 Buena. Fremont had no orders. Sutter sent him word 
 that the Mexicans were raising the Indians, and the 
 settlers rallied to him for defense. A stronghold was 
 built on the Buttes" of Sacramento, to which many 
 came, prepared for fighting. This Fremont gratified 
 by sending a force to "disperse" the Indians, who had 
 done nothing. Some of them were killed, and the rest 
 satisfactorily scattered. 
 
 The U. S. S. Portsmouth had appeared on the scene, 
 and Fremont was soon in touch with the commander. 
 So far there had been no clash with the Mexicans, but 
 Ezekiel Merritt, an American settler, held up an of- 
 ficer with a caravan of horses and took the animals, 
 sending the lieutenant back to Castro with an insulting 
 message. Emboldened by this, Merritt's men now cap- 
 tured Sonoma and took General Vallejo, a rich and 
 agreeable Mexican, prisoner, who, with his brother, 
 secretary and interpreter, were taken in duress to Fre- 
 mont's camp. This was June 14, 1846. On the same 
 day the adventurers organized "The Republic of Cali- 
 fornia," and hoisted the celebrated "Bear" flag, made 
 from Miss Annie Frisbie's white petticoat, for which 
 they paid a dollar. A big star, and the rude figure of 
 a grizzly, were daubed on it with lampblack. 
 
 Sonoma was garrisoned by eighteen men under Wil- 
 liam B. Ide, who issued a declaration of independence. 
 The Mexicans retaliated by ambushing and killing two 
 young Americans named Cowie and Fowler. The Bear 
 flag followers avenged their deaths by killing eight 
 
Photograph by Brown Brothers 
 
 JOHN C FREMONT 
 
John Charles Fremont 153 
 
 Mexicans and rescuing a number of prisoners. Three 
 messengers were shot out of their saddles by Kit Car- 
 son and the Delawares. This was Fremont's first hand 
 in the bloody game. He had sent his resignation in 
 blank to Benton, to be used to exculpate the govern- 
 ment if it disapproved of any of his acts. He also mis- 
 treated Sutter, who had been his friend and bene- 
 factor, telling him he was "a Mexican" and would be 
 treated as such, greatly to the good captain's distress. 
 Indeed, he shed tears. 
 
 Going thence to Sonoma Fremont was joined by the 
 Bear party and began a formal "conquest" of Cali- 
 fornia, "cooperating with the U. S. Navy," as he put 
 it, though the navy does not seem to have been aware 
 of the fact, nor did Fremont yet know war had broken 
 out on the Rio Grande. Sutter's fort was taken from 
 him, and one man in the company, Risdon Moore, who 
 ventured to object to the proceedings, was locked up 
 over night. This gave him a chance to reflect, and so 
 improved his loyalty, that it never again came into 
 question. General Castro did not know either that the 
 two countries were at war, and on June 17, 1846, 
 called for a united front to oppose the invaders, but 
 reconsidered expelling foreigners so long as they be- 
 haved themselves. 
 
 Fremont, in connection with the Bear party leaders, 
 now organized three companies of soldiers, but did 
 not assert any authority on behalf of the United States. 
 He only insisted that all things be done regularly. 
 Lieut. C. W. Gillespie, U. S. M. C, from the Ports- 
 mouth, co-operated with Fremont. He had come direct 
 from Washington and presumably knew what Presi- 
 
154 John Charles Fremont 
 
 dent Polk wanted. Commander Montgomery of the 
 Portsmouth, had supplied Fremont with powder for 
 "scientific purposes," but would give none to the Bear 
 party. 
 
 Commodore Sloat, at Monterey, had heard from 
 the Rio Grande on May 17, but did not follow his in- 
 structions. Two years before Commodore Brown had 
 acted prematurely and had been reprimanded. So Sloat 
 took no chances. He acted conservatively until July 7, 
 1846. On that day he took over the Custom House and 
 annexed California to the U. S. A. Two days later he 
 seized Yerba Buena and Sonoma, hauling down the 
 Bear flag forever. On the nth, to Sutter's relief, the 
 Stars and Stripes flew over his fort. He fired the can- 
 non in his joy. Sloat now summoned Fremont to 
 Monterey, where the British Collingwood had just 
 arrived. One of her lieutenants, Walpole, has given 
 this description of the Pathfinder's arrival: 
 
 "Fremont rode ahead, a spare, active looking man, 
 with such an eye ! He was dressed in flounce and leg- 
 gings and wore a felt hat. After him came five Dela- 
 ware Indians who were his bodyguard. The rest of 
 them, many blacker than the Indians, rode two and 
 two, the rifle held by one hand across the pommel of 
 the saddle." 
 
 Sloat was much disturbed to find that Fremont had 
 no orders from Washington and was acting independ- 
 ently. He took no further steps. The Congress now 
 came in with Commodore Robert F. Stockton, who 
 was to supersede Sloat. He took charge of all affairs, 
 including Fremont, who rather felt indisposed to sub- 
 
John Charles Fremont 155 
 
 mit as an army officer, but did, though it was to cost 
 him his commission. 
 
 Stockton summoned Castro to surrender. He nat- 
 urally declined. Sloat started for home. Stockton ap- 
 pointed his chaplain, the Rev. Walter Colton, a vigor- 
 ous personality, Alcalde of Monterey, and began a 
 move to clear Southern California. The North was all 
 in American hands. Fremont marched on Los Angeles 
 by land, and Stockton proceeded to San Diego by sea. 
 Soon all was over. Fremont was made military gov- 
 ernor and Gillespie, commander of the Southern dis- 
 trict. The conquest was complete. Kit Carson was sent 
 to Washington to advise the Government of the result. 
 
 Meanwhile the War Department was sending Gen. 
 Stephen W. Kearny across the plains to conquer Cali- 
 fornia and the adjacent territory, en route. He reached 
 Warner's ranch on December 2, 1846, with a worn- 
 out, starving force and sent a courier to Stockton for 
 aid. Gillespie marched at once with food and men. He 
 was waylaid by Mexicans, and Kearny came to his 
 support. In a sharp skirmish, eighteen Americans lost 
 their lives, including two captains. Of the officers, 
 Moore, Johnston, Kearny, Gillespie and seventeen 
 others were wounded. Carson, en route to Washing- 
 ton, was hurried back to Stockton for more support. 
 This Stockton resented, and it led to the subsequent 
 unpleasant feud between the commodore and Kearny, 
 in which Fremont took the navy end and much dis- 
 paraged Kearny. Stockton, however, sent two hundred 
 sailors and marines to bring in the exhausted soldiers. 
 This they did. 
 
156 John Charles Fremont 
 
 Kearny took up his headquarters at San Diego and 
 claimed the government of the country under his in- 
 structions. To this Stockton would not accede. In Oc- 
 tober, word reached Fremont of his appointment, 
 through the efforts of his wife, as a lieutenant-colonel 
 of a rifle regiment in the regular line. He became 
 active in hunting down Indians and irregulars who op- 
 posed American domination, operating with what be- 
 came known as the California Battalion, having no 
 assignment to command accompanying his position. 
 This frody, armed and accoutred more like hunters than 
 soldiers, roamed the State in a romantic campaign, en- 
 during much hardship and taking part in numerous 
 affrays. Stockton and Kearny cooperated in an advance 
 against Los Angeles, from which town they dislodged 
 the Mexicans. January 13, 1847, Governor Pico for- 
 mally surrendered the forces of his country to Free- 
 mont, and with it, the undisputed control of Cali- 
 fornia. This was known as the Treaty of Couenga. 
 Fremont then marched to Los Angeles, reporting first 
 to Stockton and then to Kearny. Both of these gentle- 
 men claimed to have orders to conquer and govern 
 California. Each proceeded to act independently of 
 the other, thus, when on January 16, 1847, though an 
 officer of the army, Fremont declined to obey Kearny, 
 a brigadier-general, and cancel some orders from 
 Stockton, Kearny advised him to reconsider and recall 
 his letter of refusal. This Fremont would not do, and 
 the deadlock stood. For fifty days Fremont's author- 
 ity as governor was recognized by all but Kearny. 
 Hearing news of a rising, he rode a hundred miles 
 without rest to warn Kearny, who was not grateful, 
 
John Charles Fremont 157 
 
 ^ — — — ' ' ■ 1—— — — ■» 
 
 but having the governor in his hands gave him the 
 hour in which to obey his commands. He agreed to 
 mind. The "insurrection" faded out. One outcome was 
 a challenge to fight a duel with Col. Mason, Kearny's 
 aide. This the general forbade, and nothing came of 
 it but further ill feeling. The one hundred mile ride was 
 regarded as a feat of show-off. 
 
 Orders now came, turning California over to 
 Kearny. Fremont then expressed a desire to leave and 
 return in his own fashion. This request was denied and 
 he was ordered to accompany Kearny, who had been 
 summoned East. He kept himself and his men apart, 
 but followed the same trail. Reaching Fort Leaven- 
 worth on August 22, 1847, Fremont was ordered to 
 consider himself under arrest and to "repair to Wash- 
 ington city." This he proceeded to do. At St. Louis he 
 was acclaimed a hero and offered a public banquet, 
 which he refused. He arrived at Washington on Sep- 
 tember 1 6th, to learn that his mother was seriously ill 
 at Aiken, S. C. He hastened South, but was several 
 hours too late to see her alive. 
 
 Charleston gave him an ovation, a sword and a 
 gold mounted belt. He was the hero of the hour. De- 
 siring a prompt hearing, he demanded an early trial 
 and was put on the carpet November 2, 1847, * n 
 Washington. The charges were serious: 
 
 1. Mutiny. 
 
 2. Disobedience of orders. 
 
 3. Conduct prejudicial to discipline. 
 
 Fremont's defense was that the California per- 
 formance had been a comedy of errors, growing out 
 of faulty orders, and Kearny's pretensions. The court- 
 
158 John Charles Fremont 
 
 martial failed to take this view. He was found guilty 
 on all charges and sentenced to dismissal from the 
 army! President Polk struck out the count on mutiny, 
 but approved of the two other findings; then, in view 
 of Fremont's great services, remitted the sentence of 
 dismissal. He was instructed to resume his sword and 
 report for duty. Smarting under an undue sense of 
 right, Fremont declined to report and sent in his resig- 
 nation. Its acceptance was delayed until March 15, 
 1848. That he had fallen between two millstones seems 
 to have been his chief fault. That he was instinctively 
 insubordinate is also beyond question. The army was 
 no place for him. Beside, he was only thirty-two, and 
 had been fed up on adulation. 
 
 Freed thus dishonorably from the military thrall, 
 Fremont began to look about for himself. In the in- 
 terim the Mormon, James Wilson Marshall, found 
 gold on January 24, 1848, at Sutter's mill, while en- 
 larging the race, and the eyes of the world turned 
 toward what now proved to be a land of gold. Pro- 
 ceeding to St. Louis, Fremont began preparations for 
 a fourth expedition, using his own means, and those of 
 admirers to equip it. Mrs. Fremont, in the meantime, 
 journeyed to San Francisco via Panama, the enterpris- 
 ing steamship companies having begun to transport the 
 tide of gold seekers by that unhealthy route. Fremont 
 made his way along the Kansas river to Bent's Fort, 
 which he reached on November 17, 1848. Thence he 
 proposed to pass the mountains, though informed that 
 the snow lay deeper than usual. He had crossed be- 
 fore in winter and declined to be dismayed. Carson 
 was not with him, and his men were bold, but not ex^ 
 
John Charles Fremont 159 
 
 perienced, as had been some of the others. Pueblo 
 was made the starting point over the Rockies. From 
 there on they floundered in deep drifts and braved 
 blizzards. Many were frostbitten, and some of the 
 animals froze to death. Food gave out and men began 
 to die. Twelve succumbed and cannibalism was seri- 
 ously considered as a means of saving the remaining 
 lives. Fremont himself pressed forward with a few of 
 the strongest and on January 25, 1849, succeeded in 
 getting some succor to the sufferers in the snow. He 
 then drew them together and crept down to the Pueblo 
 of Taos, where Kit Carson welcomed the poor 
 wretches and restored them to life with food and 
 warmth. 
 
 Fremont blamed "Bill" Williams, a guide taken on 
 at Pueblo, for the disaster, but it would plainly ap- 
 pear that the fault was due to his own vainglory. The 
 Mexican War ended with the Treaty of Guadeloupe- 
 Hidalgo, May 30, 1850. Senator Benton's dream of 
 "manifest destiny" had come true, much of it at the 
 hands of his son-in-law. The United States ruled the 
 continent from sea to sea ! 
 
 When recuperated, Fremont proceeded to Calh 
 fornia by the Southern route. His wife awaited him in 
 San Francisco, and they set up here a California 
 home. He had bought, before his previous return East, 
 the Mexican rights in a great grant of land called the 
 Mariposa estate, before the discovery of gold. This 
 he now proceeded to develop. He paid the owner's 
 price, subject to confirmation by the new Government. 
 The presence of gold gave it a fabulous value, and led 
 to difficulties. He had to face constant efforts to break 
 
160 John Charles Fremont 
 
 his ownership, to fight claim jumpers and to straighten 
 out mistakes he had himself made in marketing min- 
 ing rights. Though he got much money out of the prop- 
 erty it did him little good. 
 
 The fame acquired by Fremont as an explorer and 
 the "conqueror" of California led to political prom- 
 inence. The land of gold was admitted to Statehood 
 on September 8, 1850. Fremont and W. M. Gwin ap- 
 peared in Washington as its Senators. He unluckily 
 drew the short term, which lasted but a year. He was 
 defeated for re-election in 185 1. After 144 ballots had 
 failed to select anyone, the election went over for a 
 year. Fremont was not again a candidate, but devoted 
 himself to the development of his Mariposa estate, ac- 
 cumulating thereby, troubles that were to follow him 
 through life. He sold some gold claims through an 
 agent, David Hoffman, in London, and later, with 
 Thomas Denny Sargent, engineered a large transac- 
 tion involving the entire property for $1,000,000. 
 Sargent also began to unload in London at a huge 
 advance, and the claims conflicting, Fremont's name 
 became soiled. The refusal of the Government to 
 authenticate his rights added to the confusion. 
 
 Visiting London in 1852, Fremont was arrested 
 for fraud and kept in jail overnight. George Peabody, 
 the philanthropist, bailed him out. The case grew out 
 of unpaid drafts drawn on the State Department for 
 supplies in 1847, which were not paid for lack of 
 funds, and the paper had fallen into British hands, 
 which took this way to collect. The matter was some- 
 how settled, but remains a smudge on the acquisition 
 of California. After a visit to Paris, he returned to 
 
John Charles Fremont 161 
 
 Washington, and organized his last and most unfor- 
 tunate expedition. This was without Government sup- 
 port, Jefferson Davis, Secretary of War, frowning on 
 Fremont, who had stood for non-slavery in California. 
 Davis sent Capt. J. W. Gunnison out under Govern- 
 ment auspices. He was killed in Utah, whether by In- 
 dians, or at Mormon instance, was never really known. 
 
 Fremont's party suffered severely. One man lost his 
 life and the others were nearly frozen to death in the 
 mountain snows. Food gave out and mules had to be 
 eaten. Finally, on February 8, 1854, they straggled 
 into the Mormon town of Parowan, where the kind 
 settlers nursed them back to health. S. N. Carvalho, 
 the photographer, father of S. S. Carvalho, well 
 known as a journalist in New York, made his way to 
 Salt Lake City and by painting pictures of Brigham 
 Young's wives, procured money enough to get back to 
 Baltimore, whence he came. Fremont returned to San 
 Francisco, where he was royally welcomed. 
 
 Coming East with his family in 1855, Fremont 
 planned a history of his travels. George W. Childs, 
 later publisher of the Philadelphia Ledger ; contracted 
 to print the work. It was never written, politics inter- 
 rupting authorship. 
 
 The newly contrived Republican party, constructed 
 by Free Staters and Know-Nothings from the wreck 
 of the Whigs, was proposing to make its entrance into 
 national politics. The Kansas dispute was on and Fre- 
 mont, invited to speak in New York, wrote in declin- 
 ing, a keynote inflexibly opposing the extension of 
 slavery. The Republican party, in convention at Phila- 
 delphia on June 17, 18 and 19, 1856, selected him as 
 
162 John Charles Fremont 
 
 its candidate for President, after the American custom 
 of drafting signboards instead of statesmen. William 
 L. Dayton of New Jersey, was the tail of the ticket. 
 
 One of the novelties of the campaign was the re- 
 fusal of Thomas H. Benton to support his son-in-law. 
 He stood sturdily for James Buchanan. He, himself, 
 ran for governor of Missouri on the Democratic 
 ticket. The Democrats had also to oppose Millard 
 Fillmore, the former President, named by the fading 
 Whigs. The campaign was prosecuted with great 
 vigor, but Buchanan won and postponed secession for 
 four years. Fremont received 1,341,264 votes, with 
 114 electors, to 1,927,995 for Buchanan, who had 124 
 electors. Fillmore polled 934,816 votes, but gained 
 only 8 electors. Fremont was still young — but forty- 
 three. 
 
 Fremont had sought, by filing new claims, to 
 straighten out the Mariposa grant. These were disap- 
 proved by Caleb Cushing, Attorney General of the 
 United States. Carried to court, they were confirmed 
 in time to afford some balm for his defeat. Claim jump- 
 ers had to be ousted and in the clean-up, some were 
 killed. Not until 1859 did he get all his titles cleared. 
 The yield from the mines rose to $100,000 a month. 
 The estate was a great treasure trove, though little of 
 its value remained long in its owner's hands. 
 
 Lincoln's election in i860 set the signals for war. 
 In the spring of 1861, Mariposa matters took Fre- 
 mont to London. When Sumter was fired upon in 
 April, he was designated to buy supplies abroad. This 
 service was brief. Returning in July, he was appointed 
 major-general and given command of the Department 
 
John Charles Fremont 163 
 
 of Missouri. It will be recalled that his rank on leav- 
 ing the regular army was that of lieutenant-colonel. 
 He had, however, enjoyed no military experience, un- 
 less the brief campaign in California, which resulted in 
 his downfall, can be called such. The great promotion 
 was therefore purely political, and unfortunate in its 
 consequences. 
 
 Fremont's first step was to declare martial law. 
 This, many leaders on his own side regarded as un- 
 wise, Frank P. Blair, in particular, proving the most 
 critical. Blair was a member of Congress and, located 
 in Washington, busied himself to destroy Fremont. 
 It is now plain that, however bombastical the general 
 may have been in his proclamations, and military in 
 his overbearing, he sensed the true situation more truly 
 than Blair. He did not blunder in much that he under- 
 took. But an agreement as to non-combatants with 
 Stirling Price was regarded as beyond his province, 
 while the great outcry came when, on August 30, 1861, 
 he moved to free the slaves in his territory, proclaim- 
 ing as follows: 
 
 The property, real and personal, of all persons in the State 
 of Missouri who shall take up arms against the United States, 
 or who shall be directly proven to have taken an active part 
 with their enemies in the field, is declared to be confiscated to 
 the public use, and their slaves, if they have any, are hereby 
 declared freemen. 
 
 This was going too fast for President Lincoln who 
 requested a modification of the proclamation that 
 would not raise the slavery question. Fremont declin- 
 ing to do it, the President reversed the order. Fremont 
 
164 John Charles Fremont 
 
 could not see how a confiscated piece of human prop- 
 erty could be consistently kept in bondage. He was ac- 
 cordingly removed from his command on charges of 
 incompetency, which no one took the trouble to prove. 
 He had lasted exactly one hundred days — the fatal 
 Napoleonic period. The relief came on October 24, 
 1862. This, of course, brought an end to whatever 
 plans he might have had, the chief of which was a 
 descent to New Orleans by gradual steps, clearing the 
 country as he went. This program was warmly en- 
 dorsed by Horace Greeley. 
 
 Greeley believed in Fremont. Writing to Congress- 
 man (later Vice-President) Schuyler Colfax, he said: 
 "I want to say to the President (Lincoln) that I ar- 
 dently hope he may give Fremont a chance. Let him 
 take Schofield's and Blunt's forces and clean out Ar- 
 kansas, Louisiana and Texas of Rebellion and slavery. 
 Give him 30,000 men, well-equipped, and he will take 
 those three States by March. That will cut off the 
 Rebel supply of beef and conscripts." 
 
 This was never tried. Fremont's foes were too pow- 
 erful. They had no notion of letting him grow to Pres- 
 idential size again. His vanity gave them the chance to 
 completely extinguish him. He had surrounded him- 
 self with a gorgeously clad staff, and built up a large 
 military establishment. "Putting on airs" seems to have 
 been his chief offense. This is something no true Amer- 
 ican can stand. His chapeau was rather overloaded 
 with plumes, and his head correspondingly enlarged. 
 There was no free and easy entrance to his presence, 
 and the formalities gave great offense. 
 
 The anti-slavery element made such a row, endors- 
 
John Charles Fremont 165 
 
 ing his emancipation action, that he was given a com- 
 mand in the Shenandoah Valley, where he had Stone- 
 wall Jackson to contend with. Here he was afforded 
 the rather inferior assistance of Carl Schurz; his 
 troops were bad and wretchedly equipped. Indeed, 
 there was no honest attempt to give him a fair show. 
 Then, to crown all, John Pope was set over him as 
 commander of the Army of Virginia. He was a junior 
 and a disagreeable person to boot. Fremont asked to 
 be relieved, and the war saw no more of him. 
 
 From this time on, Fremont's career was a fading 
 one. The Mariposa estate, now incorporated, renewed 
 its troubles. Required to pay $300,000 in gold to re- 
 deem control, Fremont could not raise the $800,000 
 currency required to make good. On top of all, the 
 Government confiscated ten acres of valuable land at 
 Black Point, San Francisco Bay, for fortification pur- 
 poses, and never paid for it. June 24, 1864, he resigned 
 from the army. A convention at Cleveland nominated 
 him for President to run against Lincoln, but he with- 
 drew, the President paying for it with the scalp of 
 Postmaster General Montgomery Blair. When the 
 war closed he sought employment at railroad promot- 
 ing, becoming president of a projected Memphis, El 
 Paso and Pacific railway. 
 
 He then established a home on the Hudson, near 
 Tarrytown. One son, Francis, went to West Point, and 
 another, John Charles, to the Naval Academy. The 
 railway ventures failed, and the Tarrytown home was 
 lost in the wreck. The Fremonts went abroad. He was 
 prosecuted for fraud in connection with unpaid rail- 
 road bonds in Paris, fined and sentenced to a term in 
 
166 John Charles Fremont 
 
 prison. This he escaped by quitting the country in 
 time. Pitying his misfortunes, President Rutherford 
 B. Hayes, in 1878, appointed him governor of Ari- 
 zona. At the end of his term the weary Pathfinder 
 came back to the East and undertook the long delayed 
 memoirs promised George W. Childs. Only one 
 volume was completed. Residing briefly at Point Pleas- 
 ant, New Jersey, he was taken with pneumonia, in 
 1887, and made a poor recovery. His physician urged 
 his return to California, and in December he was re- 
 moved to Los Angeles. 
 
 Times continued hard with him until April, 1890. 
 Congress then placed him on the retired list as a 
 major-general. He did not have long to enjoy the re- 
 lief, dying in New York, July 13, 1890, having lived 
 seventy-seven years. He lies at rest in Rockland Cem- 
 etery, Piermont-on-the-Hudson, in a lot donated to 
 boom that enterprise, under a monument built by the 
 State of New York. He could find paths for others, but 
 none for himself. 
 
IX 
 STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS 
 
 THE "LITTLE GIANT" OF ILLINOIS 
 
 THE late Albert J. Beveridge, former Senator 
 from Indiana, while preparing to write his 
 life of Abraham Lincoln remarked to the au- 
 thor that the more he read up on Lincoln the higher 
 his opinion became of Stephen A. Douglas. This has 
 been my own experience. 
 
 It must be remembered in justice that Douglas' idea 
 was definite, workable and Democratic, while Lincoln 
 and his party had no plan for dealing with slavery be- 
 yond preventing its expansion. Lincoln deplored slav- 
 ery. His party gained its strength from those who op- 
 posed its extension, and desired its abolition, but the 
 platform of i860 contains no word of comfort for the 
 slave. 
 
 The compromise of 1850 stopped the progress of 
 the institution into new territory. Its repeal in 1854 
 brought the question to the front again. Douglas 
 thought in leaving it open to the people of the West, 
 he could by ballot settle what finally fell to the arbi- 
 tration of the sword. Most politicians preach faith 
 in the people. Few of them have any. Douglas did. His 
 Republican opponents had none. Neither did the pro- 
 slavery factions of the North and South. While the 
 Republicans had no program, the precise followers of 
 
 167 
 
168 Stephen A. Douglas 
 
 the Constitution had no remedy. Here was where 
 Douglas stepped in. 
 
 Let us look at his beginnings. Stephen Arnold 
 Douglas came from Scotch stock, as his name implies, 
 and from the English Arnolds of Rhode Island. He 
 was born at Brandon, Vermont, April 23, 18 13. His 
 father, a physician, bore the same name. Sarah Fish 
 was the boy's mother. The Douglas grandsire fought 
 in the Revolution from Cambridge to Yorktown. Dr. 
 Douglas died when his son was but three years old. 
 The marriage of an uncle who had cared for Stephen's 
 welfare, set him on his own resources. His first essay 
 at making a living was as apprentice to a cabinet 
 maker in Middlebury, Vt. Then his mother remarried, 
 and the step-father took the family to Canandaigua, 
 New York. Here Stephen had a chance to attend an 
 academy briefly. Next he fell into the tide that was 
 flowing West. In November, 1833, ne reached Illinois, 
 with no capital beyond an active mind. The days were 
 disputatious and, without a sheepskin, he took up the 
 practice of law in the crude courts, held by Justices of 
 the Peace, where the "tongueiest" orator was most 
 apt to win his case. He won many of them. 
 
 This led him into politics on the side of Andrew 
 Jackson against the aristocratic Whigs. His first stay 
 was in Winchester, but in six months he established 
 himself in Jacksonville, which was thereafter to be 
 his home. It was the seat of Morgan County, and 
 Douglas soon acquired a commanding place in State 
 politics, which he never lost. Here he was admitted to 
 the bar and hung out his shingle in March, 1834, 
 though not yet twenty-one. 
 
Photograph by Brown Brothers 
 
 STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 169 
 
 In January, 1835, the Legislature deposed John J. 
 Hardin from the position of Attorney General and 
 gave it to Douglas by a majority of four. He was then 
 only a few months over age. He became a member of 
 the Legislature in 1836, and at once the Democratic 
 leader. The youth had a genius for politics. 
 
 President Van Buren made him Register of the 
 land office in April, 1837. This took him to Spring- 
 field, where he began to face Abraham Lincoln. Doug- 
 las ran for Congress in 1840 and was beaten by but 
 thirty-five votes in 36,000 cast. The Democratic State 
 ticket pulled through. Douglas was appointed Secre- 
 tary of State, from which office he was elevated to the 
 Supreme Court bench, February 15, 1841, at the ripe 
 age of twenty-eight. The Illinois part of the republic 
 was indeed Opportunity! Besides all this he was a so- 
 cial lion in Springfield and flirted with Miss Mary 
 Todd, who became Mrs. Abraham Lincoln. 
 
 The following December, 1842, he lost the United 
 States senatorship by five votes, though uncfcr legal 
 age for the office. The next turn of the wheel sent him 
 to Congress, by a plurality of 461. He had then been 
 ten years in the State, and held a record for office 
 filling. Joining the Twenty-eighth Congress in Decem- 
 ber, 1843, ne began his national career, having passed 
 thirty. Thus, but a youth, already dubbed "Little 
 Giant," Douglas came into the mighty company led 
 by Webster, Clay, Calhoun and their kind. Congress 
 and Senate were great debating societies. The com- 
 promise of 1820 had been in force for twenty-three 
 years, staying the march of slavery, but concentrating 
 its iniquities. Tariff discrimination had almost severed 
 
170 Stephen A. Douglas 
 
 the South a decade before. North and South bristled at 
 each other. Yet neither was disposed to face fairly 
 the reasons for its differences. 
 
 The Mormon Colony established at Nauvoo, Illi- 
 nois, by Joseph Smith, was in Douglas' district. He 
 made friends with the Prophet and his election to 
 Congress was credited to Mormon votes. He was often 
 dubbed "the Mormon Congressman." Smith was the 
 only man of vision in the United States at the time. 
 He had prophesied in 1839 that a war between the 
 states would break out in i860 at Charleston, South 
 Carolina, if steps were not taken to relieve the slave 
 pressure. His own scheme was to annex Texas, "liber- 
 ate the slaves in two or three states" and send them 
 thereto, indemnifying their owners. Then he proposed 
 to take over Mexico by force and press the blacks on 
 to that region, where as he put it, "all colors are 
 alike." Further, on March 26, 1844, ne petitioned 
 Congress to be allowed to enlist an army of 100,000 
 men "to extend protection to persons wishing to settle 
 Oregon" and to "extend protection to the people of 
 Texas." He meant to take California, believing Eng- 
 land had designs upon it. Elder Orson Hyde repre- 
 sented Smith at Washington and reported: "Judge 
 Douglas has been quite ill, but he is just recovered. He 
 will help all he can." On April 26th he reported fur- 
 ther: "We have this day had a long conversation with 
 Judge Douglas. He is right for Oregon and Califor- 
 nia. He said he would resign his seat in Congress if he 
 could command the force that Mr. Smith could, and 
 would be on the march for that country in a month. 'In 
 five years,' said he, 'a noble state might be formed and 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 171 
 
 then if they would not receive us into the Union we 
 would have a government of our own.' " 
 
 Smith's dreams of empire came to an end with his 
 murder by a mob at Carthage, Illinois, June 27, 1864. 
 The Mormons had swung their votes from side to 
 side in Illinois and lost political support. It became 
 necessary for them to move on. Governor Ford ap- 
 pointed Douglas, John J. Hardin, W. B. Warren and 
 J. A. McDougall a commission to arrange for their 
 departure. This was brought about by an agreement 
 with Brigham Young made on October 1, 1845, when 
 in strange fulfillment of Smith's desire, the United 
 States moved on Mexico and California. In 1846 the 
 trekking Mormons were called upon to furnish a 
 battalion, with the promise that they should end their 
 march in California. Young agreed and the men en- 
 listed. Douglas had a friendly hand in this. In 1856, 
 however, when Young threatened war, Douglas made 
 a speech at Springfield in which he denounced Mor- 
 monism as "the loathsome ulcer on the body politic." 
 His name and his forgotten friendliness to the sect 
 were perpetuated in Fort Douglas, the United States 
 Military post overlooking Lake City. 
 
 But to return: Texas had become an unsuccessful 
 republic and came rapping at the door. The compro- 
 mise of 1820 only kept slavery below 36:30; the 
 North had not reckoned on any further growth of its 
 power. It looked askance at the proposition. Polk's 
 victory in 1844 put the Democrats — and the South — 
 again in control. Texas came into the Union, bringing 
 with it the Mexican War. To keep it company there 
 was fair prospect of an armed clash with Great 
 
172 Stephen A. Douglas 
 
 Britain on the Oregon boundary. "Fifty-four forty or 
 fight" was a lusty slogan. The Administration pre- 
 ferred to fight Mexico and compromised with England. 
 Texas, which had been free under Mexico, became 
 slave under the Stars and Stripes. In 1847 Illinois pro- 
 moted Douglas to the Senate where he soon loomed 
 large. 
 
 Zachary Taylor of Louisiana, who won the Presi- 
 dency in 1848, though a native of Virginia, set his 
 face firmly against the extension of slavery. He took 
 his guidance from William H. Seward and proclaimed 
 that there was no need of a new party to settle the 
 question. Though John C. Calhoun insisted that the 
 Constitution followed the flag, and that the Constitu- 
 tion authorized slavery, California was too rich to 
 be rebuffed when it insisted on coming in free. 
 
 The territory newly acquired by conquest contained 
 Arizona, New Mexico, Nevada and Utah, in the last 
 of which the Mormons, under Brigham Young, had 
 established a considerable colony. The slave power ex- 
 tended its hands toward them. Unfortunately, the 
 issue was not partisan, but sectional, and disruptive of 
 both parties, though in the contention the Whigs were 
 the chief losers. The so-called compromise bills of 
 1850 now passed. They left the question of slave ex- 
 tension open in the territories but accepted California 
 under its own mandate of freedom. Bitter debates 
 resulted from the controversy, out of which Douglas 
 became eminent. Senator Jefferson Davis of Missis- 
 sippi was his chief opponent. 
 
 The North accepted the compromise and breathed 
 easier for the moment. Daniel Webster hailed its enact- 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 173 
 
 ment as a "day of rejoicing." Henry Clay called it "a 
 triumph for the Union, for harmony and accord." 
 Douglas felt a sense of exaltation. "No man and no 
 party has acquired a triumph except the party friendly 
 to the Union" was his dictum. 
 
 Douglas now became a candidate for President in 
 the Democratic convention that nominated Franklin 
 Pierce of New Hampshire, at Baltimore, June i, 1852. 
 His highest vote was but 33. Only two of these came 
 from the South. Before election day both Clay and 
 Webster passed from the scene and the Senate beheld 
 thereafter the strivings of much smaller men. Doug- 
 las kept his seat, being re-elected for six years in Janu- 
 ary > 1 ^S3- Pierce, chosen President, accepted the view 
 that the Constitution upheld slavery and pushed the 
 question to one side, where it declined to stay. 
 
 Besides the ordinary impetus for settlements that 
 comes with the opening of new lands, the railroad 
 builders had their eyes on the Kansas-Nebraska ter- 
 ritory. Douglas had been active in building the first 
 line in Illinois, from Meredicia to Springfield. It ran 
 through Jacksonville, where he resided. Asa Whit- 
 ney had asked for a land grant sixty miles wide from 
 Lake Michigan to the Oregon shore, as the basis for 
 financing a transcontinental line. He was a resident 
 of Quincy, Illinois. Before the discovery of gold in 
 California, the Oregon country was an objective — due 
 to the border dispute with England. The Mexican 
 War, and the settlement of the Oregon boundary, 
 ended interest in that, but the acquisition of Califor- 
 nia, and the discovery of gold, renewed the demand 
 for a Pacific railroad. The South, with an eye to its 
 
174 Stephen A. Douglas 
 
 special interests, urged a line westward from Mem- 
 phis. Growing Chicago countered with agitation for 
 one, via Council Bluffs. Here Douglas' interests be- 
 came involved. His share, therefore, in Kansas- 
 Nebraska legislation had something more than politics 
 behind it. 
 
 South and North each sought to control the highway 
 from East to West. After the passage of the Kansas- 
 Nebraska bill, at the next session of Congress, January 
 5, 1855, Douglas introduced a measure to provide 
 for three roads to the Pacific — one from Texas, one 
 from Missouri or Iowa, one from Minnesota — routes 
 that have since been covered. He passed the measure 
 through the Senate, but Southern influences killed it 
 in the House, holding that Eastern money would 
 dominate the two Northern routes. Thus, the real 
 underlying factor was profits, while the South, by in- 
 voking war, lost its financial as well as its political 
 power. 
 
 Douglas was chairman of the Committee on Ter- 
 ritories of the Senate and on January 4, 1854, in a 
 report from that body, evolved his celebrated doctrine 
 of popular sovereignty, which was to wreck the Mis- 
 souri Compromise. With it came an act admitting Ne- 
 braska as a State, providing that it should come into 
 the Union, "with or without slavery/' as its Consti- 
 tution might prescribe at the time of admission. This 
 was throwing wide open to popular choice territory 
 north of 36:30, that had been specifically closed by 
 Congress in 1820. The Senator tried to justify his 
 course as one that repealed both guarantee and pro- 
 hibition, each of which he held were unconstitutional 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 175 
 
 and wrong in principle. With rare naivete, he argued 
 that the dividing line was unjust to the people of the 
 North, as it forbade their holding slaves, while grant- 
 ing the right to those of the South. This sophism hardly 
 appeased those who had heard him declare in 1850, 
 that the Missouri Compromise was "canonized in 
 the hearts of the American people" and that "no ruth- 
 less hand would ever be reckless enough to disturb it." 
 Yet, here he was now supplying the "ruthless hand" 
 himself! No wonder the country stood amazed. The 
 North rose in almost one body. Press and pulpit raged. 
 Douglas was denounced as a Judas, and a little Ohio 
 town sent him thirty pieces of silver! His own State 
 burnt him in effigy and threatened him with lynching. 
 He had unwittingly torn the situation open, for what- 
 ever motive, and the consequences were direful to the 
 land. 
 
 The proposition suited neither North nor South. On 
 January 16th, Senator Archibald Dixon, of Kentucky, 
 introduced a bill to repeal the Missouri Compromise. 
 This Douglas accepted and on January 24th, reported 
 his bill anew, with a provision for repealing the com- 
 promise, aiming it would appear to let the slave powers 
 capture Kansas, leaving Nebraska free, assuming the 
 North would populate it, while Missouri grabbed 
 Kansas. After a memorable struggle the measure passed 
 both Senate and House. President Pierce signed it 
 May 30, 1854. 
 
 The term of James Shields, who was to have the 
 distinction of serving three states in the Senate, one 
 of which was Illinois, ran out and a Legislature to fill 
 it was to be elected in 1854. Shields was a candidate 
 
176 Stephen A. Douglas 
 
 for re-election and Douglas supported him heartily. 
 The Legislature rejected Shields and the Senatorship 
 went to Lyman Trumbull, a Democrat of a different 
 type from either Shields or Douglas. Once, during 
 the campaign, the latter met Abraham Lincoln in 
 joint debate. From that time on they were arra"yed 
 against each other, Lincoln becoming the leader of 
 the new Republican Party that was fast replacing the 
 fading Whigs. The Kansas-Nebraska troubles, thus 
 unloosed by Douglas ran their course of bloodshed and 
 passion. James Buchanan was elected President, with 
 the expectation that he would allay the turmoil. It 
 turned out just the reverse. 
 
 With inconceivable folly, as it now appears, the 
 slave forces seized upon the case of one Dred Scott, 
 chattel of an estate, who, considering himself free by 
 reason of residence in Illinois, where he had been 
 voluntarily carried by his owner, was re-enslaved in 
 Missouri, whither he returned under the impression 
 that he was safe, as affording opportunity to deal both 
 Douglas and abolition a telling blow. The case had 
 been in the courts for years, without a decision, and 
 was brought to life in the U. S. Supreme Court, un- 
 questionably by connivance with Buchanan, who was 
 close to Roger Taney, the chief justice. Public ex- 
 pectations were aroused, and Buchanan, in his first 
 inaugural, expressed the hope that whatever the de- 
 cision might be it would be accepted and obeyed. Two 
 days after Mr. Buchanan took office, on March 6, 
 1857, Taney handed down his edict. It was that States 
 arose from territories, and territories were created 
 by Congress, becoming States by its sanction. There- 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 177 
 
 fore, it was the duty of Congress to establish a gov- 
 ernment over a territory "best suited for the protec- 
 tion and security of the citizens of the United States, 
 and other inhabitants who might be authorized to 
 take up their abode there." But "The territory being 
 a part of the United States, the government and the 
 citizen both enter it under the authority of the Con- 
 stitution, with their respective rights defined and 
 marked out; and the Federal government can exercise 
 no power over his person or property beyond what that 
 instrument confers, nor lawfully deny any right which 
 it had reserved. ,, To back this he quoted the fifth 
 amendment included in Jefferson's Bill of Rights that 
 "No person shall be deprived of life, liberty or prop- 
 erty, without due process of law." He went on : "And 
 the powers over person and property of which we 
 speak, are not only not granted to Congress, but are in 
 express terms denied, and they are forbidden to ex- 
 ercise them." In short: "It could confer no power on 
 any local government, established by its authority, to 
 violate the provisions of the Constitution." With Ta- 
 ney's view that no State or territory had the power 
 to alienate property, there would probably have been 
 no serious quarrel, but his obiter dictum, which was 
 appended to the opinion, endorsing the view that no 
 black men had any rights a white man was bound to 
 respect, raised a great outcry and made the question 
 of slavery more acute than ever before. The Kansas- 
 Nebraska dispute broke out afresh. The conflict was 
 on and due to be fought to a finish. 
 
 The Lecompton and Topeka Constitutions were in 
 collision, and Mr. Buchanan began by accepting the 
 
178 Stephen A. Douglas 
 
 government organized under the former. For this he 
 was called severely to account. New England rang 
 with the dispute, and Missouri border* ruffians con- 
 tended in Kansas with fanatics serving under John 
 Brown and his associates on the Free State side. Mr. 
 Buchanan sent regular troops to bring about order. 
 Their commanders behaved with discretion. The Presi- 
 dent appointed a Pennsylvania man, then located in 
 Mississippi — Robert J. Walker, to govern the unruly 
 province, which he did well but briefly. Mr. Buchanan 
 considered civil war rampant in the territory and it 
 was. On Douglas he served this notice: "I wish you 
 to remember that no Democrat ever yet differed from 
 an administration of his own choice without being 
 crushed," to which the dauntless Douglas replied, "Mr. 
 President, I wish you to remember that Andrew Jack- 
 son is dead." With that he gave warning of his intent 
 to oppose the Lecompton constitution which the slave 
 forces had provided for Kansas. "Why force this con- 
 stitution down the throats of the people of Kansas 
 in opposition to their wishes and in violation of their 
 pledges?" he asked pertinently, concluding: "But if 
 this constitution is forced down our throats, in viola- 
 tion of the fundamental principles of free govern- 
 ment, under a mode of submission that is a mockery 
 and an insult, I will resist to the last." So he went as 
 far as the farthest in his stand. The Free Staters re- 
 fused to vote and the result was all one way. Then 
 Buchanan went to the extreme of holding that "Kansas 
 is * * * at this moment as much of a slave state as 
 Georgia or South Carolina." Douglas was of course 
 roundly assailed from the side of the administration 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 179 
 
 and the South. He stood up, however, insisting that 
 there be a resubmission of the Kansas constitution. 
 He carried his point though the Senate had voted to 
 accept the State under that of Lecompton. This was 
 done and it was rejected 11,812 to 1,926. The ter- 
 ritory thus definitely defied the dictums of the Supreme 
 Court. 
 
 When the voters had signified their desires, Bu- 
 chanan urged upon Congress "the speedy admission of 
 Kansas into the Union" as a free state — believing it 
 u would restore peace and quiet to the whole country. 
 * * * Kansas once admitted into the Union, the ex- 
 citement becomes localized, and will soon die away, for 
 want of outside aliment. Then every difficulty will be 
 settled at the ballot box." 
 
 This was a hope not to be fulfilled. Congress, by a 
 strictly party vote on May 4, 1858, voted to admit 
 Kansas, but under the Lecompton, or pro-slavery Con- 
 stitution; Kansas having repudiated that document, 
 naturally refused to accept Statehood under its pro- 
 visions, so voting on August 2, 1858. 
 
 Defending his own attitude, Douglas declared: 
 
 Everywhere I have endeavored to prove that there was no 
 reason why an exception should be made in regard to the 
 slavery question. . . . The very first proposition in the Ne- 
 braska bill was to show that the Missouri restriction, pro- 
 hibiting them from deciding the slavery question for them- 
 selves, constituted an exception to a general rule, in violation 
 of the principle of self-government; and hence that that ex- 
 ception should be repealed, and the slavery question, like all 
 other questions, submitted to the people, to be decided by them- 
 selves. That was the principle on which the Nebraska bill 
 
180 Stephen A. Douglas 
 
 was defended by its friends. Instead of making the slavery 
 question an exception, it removed an odious exception which 
 before existed We repealed the Missouri restriction be- 
 cause it was confined to slavery. That was the only exception 
 there was to the general principle of self-government. That 
 exception was taken away for the avowed and express purpose 
 of making the rule of self-government general and universal, 
 so that the people should form and regulate all their domestic 
 institutions in their own way. 
 
 His term expiring, Horace Greeley and other influen- 
 tial Republicans desired that he should not be opposed 
 by the party in Illinois, because of his Kansas stand. 
 This view was not accepted. Instead Abraham Lincoln 
 was nominated. The campaign opened June 16, 1858, 
 and there began the famous debate between the two 
 men which was to lead Lincoln to the White House. 
 Lincoln then laid down his precept : 
 
 We are now far into the fifth year since a policy was initi- 
 ated with the avowed object, and confident promise of putting 
 an end to the slavery agitation. Under the operation of that 
 policy, that agitation has not only not ceased, but has con- 
 stantly augmented. In my opinion, it will not cease until a 
 crisis shall have been reached and passed. "A House divided 
 against itself cannot stand." I believe this government cannot 
 endure half slave and half free. I do not expect the Union to 
 be dissolved — I do not expect the house to fall — but I do ex- 
 pect it will cease to be divided. It will become all one thing 
 or all the other. Either the opponents of slavery will arrest 
 the further spread of it, and place it where the public mind 
 shall rest in the belief that it is in the course of ultimate ex- 
 tinction; or its advocates will push it forward till it shall 
 become alike lawful in all the States, old as well as new — 
 North as well as South. 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 181 
 
 It would be hard to conceive a greater contrast than 
 that afforded by the two contestants. Lincoln was six 
 feet, six inches tall, ungainly in gait and manner. His 
 clothes hung loosely upon his lank figure ; he was with- 
 out oratorical tricks; his voice, high and piercing, rather 
 jarred the ear. Yet his words when put into print were 
 golden. They live with the utterances of the immortals. 
 
 Douglas, on the other hand, was a finished speaker. 
 He had studied in the school of Webster and Clay. 
 Orotund and oracular, he rounded his periods and 
 appealed to the ear more than the brain. Dapper in 
 dress and figure, almost diminutive in size, he was 
 diametrically the opposite of his antagonist. "Popular 
 sovereignty" was the only phrase of his creation that 
 seems to have survived. 
 
 To aid Douglas in his cause he had the hostility of 
 Buchanan's administration. His patronage was cut off 
 and his views held to be heretical. Lincoln, Douglas 
 tried to brush aside as "a kind, amiable and intelligent 
 gentleman" and "good citizen" one whom he had 
 known "personally and intimately for a quarter of a 
 century." 
 
 While Lincoln spoke with the voice of a prophet, 
 that of Douglas was the voice of the people. The right 
 of self-determination made the stronger appeal. The 
 majority were neither interested in the future of slav- 
 ery, or the construction of the Constitution. It was 
 enough to leave the question (and all others) to the 
 decision of the voter when required. The "initiative 
 and referendum" doctrine of later days harks back to 
 this sentiment. There were plenty to stand for his 
 declaration that "this government of ours is founded 
 
1 82 Stephen A. Douglas 
 
 on the white basis" and only abolitionists cared to give 
 any respect to the "rights" denied the negro by Judge 
 Taney's "Dred Scott" decision. 
 
 The two debaters faced each other at frequent in- 
 tervals on the same platform from August 21st to 
 October 15th, the contest ending at Alton on the 
 latter date. 
 
 When the nation took account of stock after election 
 day in 1858 it was amazed to find that the new Repub- 
 lican party had captured Congress, and possessed 
 twenty-five senators. The man who had done most to 
 bring this about was not among the number. While 
 Illinois had gone Republican by 3,821 plurality, Mr. 
 Lincoln failed to gain enough legislators to offset 
 twelve hold-over Democrats in the state assembly. 
 Douglas beat Lincoln in the balloting, 54 to 46. 
 
 The rail-splitter went humbly back to his law office. 
 Of the contest, he observed: "It gave me a hearing 
 on the great and durable question of the age which I 
 could have had in no other way; and though I now 
 sink out of view and shall be forgotten, I believe I 
 have made some marks which will tell for the cause 
 of civil liberty long after I am gone." 
 
 The immediate outcome was that Douglas figured 
 large. He was able to set aside the animus of the Ad- 
 ministration, and to lead the party as much as it could 
 be led, on its way to disaster. A good percentage of 
 the people in the North believed he had selected the 
 right road out of the national perplexity. It was the 
 other way in the South whither Douglas journeyed 
 after his victory in an endeavor to smooth the party 
 differences. He did not succeed. When the Senate was 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 183 
 
 organized he lost the Chairmanship of the Committee 
 on Territories and was continually challenged in de- 
 bate. He remained firm in his position. "I tell you 
 gentlemen of the South in all candor," he once de- 
 clared, "I do not believe a Democratic candidate can 
 ever carry one state of the North on the platform that 
 it is the duty of the Federal government to force the 
 people of a territory to have slavery when they do 
 not want it." This was renewed defiance of the Su- 
 preme Court, which lacked the means of enforcing its 
 mandate and which Buchanan dared not supply. 
 
 Harper and Brothers were the leading publishers of 
 America, and their New Monthly Magazine was a 
 power. In the issue of September, 1859, the trio, who 
 were Democrats, did an unusual thing. No articles 
 were signed in that day, but Douglas was given nine- 
 teen pages in which to discuss over his signature "Popu- 
 lar Sovereignty in the Territories." The periodical was 
 widely read in the South, and the article was intended 
 to make a strong political appeal. It concluded with 
 this paragraph in italics: 
 
 The principle under our political system is that every dis- 
 tinct political community, loyal to the Constitution and the 
 •Union, is entitled to all the rights, privileges and immunities 
 of self-government in relation to their local concerns and in- 
 ternal policy, subject only to the Constitution of the United 
 States. 
 
 We have since conceded this more than once by 
 using the processes of Constitutional amendments to 
 wipe them out ! 
 
 The crisis of i860 was now near and came to a 
 
184 Stephen A. Douglas 
 
 crux in the convention of the Democratic party at 
 Charleston, South Carolina, where it met on April 
 23rd. Southern votes coupled with California and Ore- 
 gon put Caleb Cushing, a cold-blooded Constitution- 
 alist" from Massachusetts, in the chair. The stage was 
 set for a fight between slavery and popular sovereignty, 
 by the former's control of the Committee on Resolu- 
 tions, which at once came to a clinch. 
 
 It was five days before the wrangling Committee 
 reported with a split. The Southern and West Coast 
 members, who were in the majority, endorsed the Dred 
 Scott decision, denied the power of Congress to abolish 
 slavery in the territories, and affirmed that territorial 
 legislatures were equally powerless. This had been 
 carried in the Committee, 17 to 16. Douglas' follow- 
 ing was a majority in the convention, and to prevent 
 the adoption of the minority report, the Southerners 
 filibustered. Cushing ruled in their favor and so caused 
 deep resentment on the part of the majority of dele- 
 gates. He threatened to leave the chair unless order 
 was respected. The two sides locked horns and the 
 platform went over until Monday, when the Douglas 
 men won, 165 to 138. As a result, fifty-one Southern- 
 ers left their seats, so that on Tuesday but two hun- 
 dred and fifty-two delegates were on hand. The two 
 thirds rule was, however, adopted. Nominations fol- 
 lowed. Douglas was named, together with Daniel S. 
 Dickinson, R. M. T. Hunter, Andrew Johnson and 
 Gen. Joseph Lane. Douglas had the lead — 145^2 
 votes. His highest number was 152^. Fifty-seven 
 ballots having produced a deadlock, and no progress 
 
%v1F 
 
 AMINADAB SLEEK AT JONES' WOOD. 
 
 "My. friends, there is no patriotic duty on earth more gratifying to my feelings than to make a speech over Mr. Lincoln's political 
 crave. [Loud cheers.] I do not make this remark out of any unkindness to Mr. Lincoln, but I believe that the good of his owji 
 country requires it."— Douglas's Speech, Wednesday, September 12th, 1860. 
 
 A "CLOSE-UP" OF DOUGLAS 
 
 One of the best of current cartoons of this able politician. 
 From Vanity Fair, October 13, 1860 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 185 
 
 being possible, the convention adjourned to meet in 
 Baltimore on June 18th. 
 
 Between the conventions Jefferson Davis introduced 
 a set of resolutions in the Senate embodying the prin- 
 ciples declared in what had been the majority platform 
 report at Charleston, which the Douglas men had de- 
 feated. These were for supporting Taney's view of the 
 constitution. Davis led in the resulting debate. "We 
 claim protection" he asserted, "first because it is our 
 right; secondly, because it is the duty of the general 
 government. * * * What right has Congress to abdi- 
 cate any power conferred upon it as the trustee of the 
 states? But we make you no threat; we only give you 
 warning." Douglas was of course in the center of the 
 fire. Responding later to assault from Davis he 
 said: "My name never would have been presented at 
 Charleston, except for the attempt to proscribe me as 
 a heretic. Too unsound to be the chairman of a com- 
 mittee of this body, where I have held a seat for so 
 many years without a suspicion resting on my political 
 fidelity, I was forced to allow my name to go there in 
 self-defence; and I will now say that had any gentle- 
 man, friend or foe, received a majority of that con- 
 vention over me, the lightning would have carried a 
 message withdrawing my name." 
 
 Continuing, he flatly accused Davis and his follow- 
 ing of planning secession as early as 1858 and that they 
 were pursuing a course that would "lead directly and 
 inevitably to a dissolution of the Union." 
 
 May 17th, the two again debated. "I have no re- 
 spect for platforms," said Davis. "Would sooner have 
 
1 86 Stephen A. Douglas 
 
 an honest man on any sort of a rickety platform you 
 could construct than to have a man I did not trust on 
 the best platform which could be made." To which 
 Douglas retorted: "If the platform is not a matter of 
 consequence, why press the question to the disruption 
 of the party? Why did you not tell us in the beginning 
 of this debate that the whole fight was against the man 
 and not upon the platform ?" 
 
 To his great credit, Douglas would not allow him- 
 self to be driven from his position. The people and the 
 people alone, he unflinchingly held, ought to decide 
 whether their territories should be bond or free. He 
 openly charged the fire-eaters with plotting to divide 
 the Union. 
 
 When the Convention assembled in the Front Street 
 Theatre, Baltimore, it was found the breach had 
 widened. Four days passed before the Committee on 
 Credentials could report. Several contests were left 
 to the convention. The Douglasites controlled and 
 seated their own kind. The anti-Douglas element held 
 mass meetings, where fiery speeches were made by 
 orators like William L. Yancey. Secession was in the 
 air — not because of Abraham Lincoln, who with Han- 
 nibal Hamlin, of Maine, had been nominated in the 
 interim by the Republican convention at Chicago, on 
 May 19th, but of Stephen A. Douglas. The conven- 
 tion became a bear-garden. In a speech of much dig- 
 nity, mingled with despair, Cushing resigned the chair 
 and took his seat with the Massachusetts delegation, 
 Governor David Todd of Ohio, taking his place. At 
 this point Benjamin F. Butler, of Massachusetts, arose 
 and announced his purpose and that of some of his 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 187 
 
 associates to retire. This they did, amid cat-calls and 
 hisses. On a second ballot Douglas received 181J/2 
 votes out of 194^ cast, and was declared nominated. 
 The two thirds requirement of 202 fixed at Charleston 
 was set aside. 
 
 The bolters named John C. Breckinridge of Ken- 
 tucky, then Vice-President and Joseph Lane of Ore- 
 gon, while on May 9th, the Whigs at Baltimore, in 
 what was their last gasp, had already nominated John 
 Bell of Tennessee and Edward Everett of Massachu- 
 setts. It was at once perceived that with three tickets 
 in the field Lincoln would win. Jefferson Davis took 
 the lead in an endeavor to induce all candidates to 
 withdraw in favor of some fusion that would save the 
 day. Breckinridge and Bell were willing but Douglas 
 refused on the ground that it would betray his friends, 
 who would go en masse to Lincoln; the scheme was 
 therefore impracticable. So the three tickets remained 
 to divide the Anti-Republican vote. 
 
 With all of Douglas' prestige, as a result of this 
 division Lincoln had small fear of him when they met 
 at the polls. "Mr. Douglas is a cabinet maker" he was 
 jestingly reminded when the campaign opened. u He 
 was when I first knew him" was his reply, "but he 
 gave up the business so long ago that I don't think 
 he can make a President's chair now." 
 
 "Will Judge Douglas ever be President?" some one 
 asked William H. Seward, then senator. 
 
 "No, sir," was the reply. "No man will ever be 
 President of the United States who spells 'negro' with 
 two g's." 
 
 This was witty, but the Republican platform offered 
 
1 88 Stephen A. Douglas 
 
 no opportunity for making states free by vote of their 
 people. Instead it disapproved of Popular Sovereignty 
 and condemned the John Brown raid into Virginia that 
 was still echoing. 
 
 Douglas fought his fight ably, though he knew his 
 cause was lost. When counted, Lincoln had 1,857,610 
 votes; Douglas 1,291,574; Breckinridge 850,082; 
 Bell 646,124. So Lincoln won by a plurality — 930,170 
 less than a majority of the poll. Of electors Lincoln had 
 180, Douglas 12, Breckenridge 72 and Bell 39. 
 
 Manfully, the Little Giant had stood up against his 
 foes. Loyally he supported Lincoln in the events that 
 followed. 
 
 Douglas showed with all other Northern statesmen 
 the bewilderment attending the organization of a 
 Southern Confederacy at Montgomery in January 
 1 861. The desire to avoid a clash by overt acts on the 
 part of the National government was paramount. 
 Douglas went so far as to offer a resolution in the Sen- 
 ate advising the "withdrawal of the garrisons from all 
 forts within the limits of the states, which had seceded, 
 except those at Key West and the Dry Tortugas, need- 
 ful to the United States for coaling stations." In sup- 
 porting this suggestion he added: "I proclaim boldly 
 (he might better have said timidly), the policy of 
 those with whom I act. We are for peace." He held 
 the new President's hat while he read his inaugural 
 on the steps of the Capitol. But his strength was gone: 
 he was no longer a giant in any sense. His campaign 
 left him $80,000 in debt and weakened physically. 
 "Mr. Douglas," said President Lincoln to Albert D. 
 Richardson, correspondent of the New York Tribune, 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 189 
 
 soon after Sumter, "spent three hours with me this 
 afternoon. For several days he has been too unwell for 
 business, and has devoted his time to studying war 
 matters, until he understands the military system bet- 
 ter than anyone in the Cabinet. Our conversation 
 turned upon the rendition of slaves. 'You know,' said 
 Douglas, 'that I am entirely sound on the fugitive slave 
 law. I am for enforcing it in all cases within its true 
 intent and meaning; but after examining it carefully 
 have concluded that a negro insurrection is a case to 
 which it does not apply.' " 
 
 He died at Chicago, June 3, 1861, having little 
 more than entered his forty-ninth year. 
 
 His death [wrote Richardson from Washington to the 
 Tribune] excites profound and universal regret. Though to- 
 tally unfamiliar with books, Mr. Douglas thoroughly knew 
 the masses of the Northwest, down to their minutest sympa- 
 thies and prejudices. Beyond any of his contemporaries he was 
 a man of the people and the people loved him. Never before 
 could he have died so opportunely for his posthumous fame. 
 Nothing in his life became him like the leaving of it. His 
 last speech, in Chicago, was a fervid, stirring appeal for the 
 union and the government, and for crushing out treason with 
 an iron hand. His emphatic loyalty exercised great influence 
 in Illinois. His lifelong opponents forget the asperities of the 
 past, in the halo of patriotism around his setting sun, and 
 unite with those who always idolized him, in common tribute 
 to his memory. 
 
 Lincoln, Richardson held, "while distinctly of the 
 masses * * * represented their sober, second 
 thought, their higher aspirations, their better possi- 
 bilities. Douglas embodied their average impulses, 
 
190 Stephen A. Douglas 
 
 both good and bad. Upon the stump, his fluency, his 
 hard common sense, and his wonderful voice, which 
 could thunder like the cataract, or whisper with the 
 breeze, enabled him to sway them at his will." More- 
 over: "Entirely without general culture, more ignorant 
 of books than any other public man of his day, Doug- 
 las was christened 'The Little Giant' by the unerring 
 popular instinct. He, who without learning of the 
 schools, and without preparation, could cope with 
 Webster, Seward and Sumner surely deserved that ap- 
 pellation." 
 
 The deep lack in Douglas, which was shown when 
 pitted against Lincoln, was not in vote getting, but in 
 failing to grasp the great moral principle involveu. 
 Like Roger Taney, he could not perceive that the 
 Negro had any rights a white man was bound to re- 
 spect. His jealousy alone concerned the rights of the 
 whites, and here his doctrine of Popular Sovereignty 
 came in. He stood by the theory that the people had 
 a right to keep slaves, and gave no thought at all to 
 the question of whether or not it was right to do so. 
 The settlement of the first question he regarded as 
 something to be left to the people of a State, that is 
 to say, of the new ones to be created west of the Mis- 
 sissippi — the old ones were settled in their several po- 
 sitions. The North would not permit slavery, the South 
 would not permit freedom; its extension was to be 
 left to those who wanted it. His ''compromise" con- 
 travened the Constitution on one hand and the rights 
 of the Negro on the other. That he aimed to save 
 the Union is beyond doubt, but the wiser Lincoln 
 could see what Douglas could not perceive, that it must 
 
Stephen A. Douglas 191 
 
 cease to exist half slave and half free. Lincoln had not 
 figured out a way to solve the problem, but his great 
 mind told him what Douglas' did not, that the end 
 of either the institution or the nation was near. 
 
 On the face of his opinions Douglas should have 
 satisfied the South and secured his election to the Presi- 
 dency. There were enough votes to do it, but the 
 strict Constitutionalists undid him and pulled away the 
 ballots that would have averted war. The inelasticity 
 of a document, resting upon the chance of one man's 
 opinion in the Supreme Court, has more than once 
 imperilled the welfare of the country — and will again! 
 
 Nasby summed Douglas up not unjustly, in this 
 phrase: "His imatashen of Jaxon wood be good if he 
 want too short at both ends — his characterizashun uv 
 the Tennessee stump politishun would be capital ef 
 he didn't spile it with a weak delushun of Massachu- 
 setts — he wood in short be a good Democrat ef he lit 
 Ablishnism alone, and he mite possibly be a good Ab- 
 lishnist ef hed lit Democracy alone and not say much." 
 
 So he fell hard between two stools. 
 
X 
 
 WILLIAM H. SEWARD 
 
 GREATER THAN HIS PARTY 
 
 WHILE William Henry Seward never came 
 before the people at the polls as the Presi- 
 dential candidate of a party, he no less de- 
 serves a place among those who did, for his talents 
 and achievements earned him a right to that lofty am- 
 bition. Indeed it seemed assured that he would carry 
 off the nomination at the second convention led by the 
 Republicans at Chicago, on May 16, i860, but he was 
 defeated by the hostility of Horace Greeley and the 
 shrewd tactics employed by Abraham Lincoln and his 
 Illinois supporters. Obscured by the gigantic shadow 
 cast by the apotheosis of Lincoln, Seward's place in 
 history has become unduly small. It appears large to 
 the student of American progress. Born at Florida, 
 Orange county, New York, May 16, 1801, he gradu- 
 ated from Union College, Schenectady, in 1820 and 
 adopted the law as a profession, setting up practice in 
 1823 at Auburn, which was thereafter his home and 
 base of his active political operations. His great gloomy 
 square mansion is still a landmark in the town. 
 
 Here he was soon in politics, where he shone for 
 nearly a half century. The Anti-Masonic movement 
 in New York and its contiguous states was under way 
 
 192 
 
WILLIAM HENRY SEWARD 
 From a painting- by H. Inman 
 
William H. Seward 193 
 
 in 1830. Seward came into touch with Thurlow Weed, 
 the editor and owner of the Albany Journal. The two 
 struck up a brotherhood that never parted. Western 
 New York was seething with incidental excitement. 
 The murder of William Morgan, of Batavia, in 1826, 
 because of his exposure of masonic "secrets" led to 
 an extraordinary uprising, which, though it accom- 
 plished nothing for itself became of importance in 
 other directions. One of its chief outcomes was the 
 development of Seward as a factor in American poli- 
 tics. The Anti-Masons grew into a party, which nomi- 
 nated Seward for the State Senate in 1830 and elected 
 him. This brought him to Albany and close to Weed. 
 He secured a second term in the Senate, by the end of 
 which period the Whig party had assumed shape in 
 New York State and nominated him for governor in 
 1834. William L. Marcy defeated him. In the war on 
 Martin Van Buren the Whigs grew in power. Nomi- 
 nated again in 1838 Seward was elected and re-elected. 
 While governor he pardoned James Watson Webb, 
 editor of the New York Courier and Enquirer, the 
 Whig organ, who had been sentenced to two years in 
 Sing Sing for fighting a duel with Thomas F. Marshall 
 of Kentucky. In grateful appreciation the editor named 
 his next born son William Seward Webb. In the mean- 
 time Horace Greeley had been added to the partner- 
 ship. The three ruled the Whig party, and made them- 
 selves felt in the nation. 
 
 In 1849 tne Whigs controlled the New York legis- 
 lature and sent Seward to the United States Senate. 
 The Anti-Masons had long ago vanished, but the new 
 territory brought in by the victory over Mexico had 
 
194 William H. Seward 
 
 opened up the free-soil agitation, developed a party 
 and split both Whigs and Democrats into factions. 
 Seward went to Washington as the open foe of slavery 
 from the most important state in the Union. He had 
 welded together diverse elements to make himself Sena- 
 tor and was soon to employ them further in forming 
 a party. Zachary Taylor was President and had called 
 upon the Congress in his message to provide govern- 
 ment for the annexed regions. Seward came promptly 
 into the atmosphere of compromise with a motion re- 
 viving the Wilmot proviso, previously rejected. It 
 read: "Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, oth- 
 erwise than by conviction for crime, shall be allowed 
 in either of said territories of Utah and New Mexico. " 
 This was defeated by 33 to 23, Clay, Webster and 
 Daniel S. Dickinson, Seward's Democratic colleague 
 from New York voting in the negative. He speedily 
 found himself in a majority when dealing with the ad- 
 mission of California as a free state. Dickinson voted 
 with Seward. So did Lewis Cass and Stephen A. Doug- 
 las. Clay and Webster are not recorded. In the debate 
 covering the various phases of the compromise Seward 
 had a bold and distinguished share. "I say to the slave 
 states," he said, "you are entitled to no more stringent 
 laws and that such laws would be useless. The cause 
 of the inefficiency of the present statute is not at all 
 the leniency of its provisions; it is the public sentiment 
 in the North, which will not support the enforcement 
 of the Fugitive Slave Act. * * * If you will have this 
 law executed you must alleviate, not increase its rig- 
 
 ors." 
 
 This was wise and true, if unacceptable even to 
 
William H. Seward 195 
 
 Webster and Clay. He made the two most notable 
 utterances put forth concerning the slavery question. 
 The first of these was also in the debate on the com- 
 promise. "We hold," he declared, "no arbitrary au- 
 thority on anything, whether acquired lawfully or 
 seized by usurpation. The constitution regulates our 
 stewardships; the constitution devotes the domain (ter- 
 ritorial) to union, to justice, to defence, to welfare, 
 to liberty. But there is a higher law than the constitu- 
 tion, which regulates our authority over the domain, 
 and devotes it to the same noble purpose. * * * I feel 
 assured that slavery must give way * * * that eman- 
 cipation is inevitable and near * * * but I will adopt 
 none but lawful, constitutional and forceful means to 
 secure even that end." 
 
 Daniel Webtser, Henry Clay, Thomas Corwin, John 
 P. Hale, John C. Calhoun and Lewis Cass were among 
 his listeners. As a Whig he was registered as speaking 
 for President Taylor. Webster was contemptuous of 
 the speech, and Clay held that it would cost Seward all 
 respect. He was vigorously condemned, but his party 
 in his state endorsed his utterances. Taylor died, and 
 Seward at odds with Fillmore in New York politics, 
 continued so in Washington. It came about, how- 
 ever, through one change and another that three men 
 of great ability came to Seward's support, after Clay, 
 Calhoun and Webster had passed from the scene. They 
 were John P. Hale of New Hampshire, Salmon P. 
 Chase of Ohio and Charles Sumner of Massachusetts. 
 Douglas vibrated between them and the extremists of 
 the South now led by Jefferson Davis of Mississippi. 
 The Free Soil party came into portentous being, run- 
 
196 William H. Seward 
 
 ning Hale for the Presidency against Pierce in 1852. 
 Massachusetts fought the return of slaves and other 
 states were careless of the law. Democrats became 
 free-soilers under the name of Barn-burners, follow- 
 ing the lines laid for them by Van Buren. They also de- 
 veloped "Hunkers" as they were called. In New York 
 Prohibition evolved a following. Weed and Seward 
 skillfully united the several diverse elements and 
 elected a governor of New York in 1852. Then came 
 the Republican party out of the chaos of kickers 
 which Seward and Weed later seized and made 
 their own. The repeal of the Missouri Compro- 
 mise gave it growth and in 1856 it was able to 
 stand alone. Seward seemed the logical candi- 
 date for its first try at the Presidency. He had, 
 however, many enemies and was too well known as 
 to views and methods. In all new parties there is 
 much political refuse and this one was full of it; though 
 including many men of brains and courage, it still had 
 to follow expediency rather than principle. Weed con- 
 sidered its following too weak to carry Seward with 
 his handicap of hostility and on his advice he made 
 no attempt to secure the nomination which went to 
 Fremont as already told. The party did not try to 
 draft its most eminent member. Its purposes were not 
 yet clear. Seward was a persistent foe of slavery. The 
 party had no mind to do more than head off its exten- 
 sion. He had tried to abolish it in the District of 
 Columbia as a starting point and endeavored to bring 
 about the repeal of the Fugitive Slave law. Greeley 
 had cast off Weed and Seward. His voice was for 
 Fremont. So Seward subsided, saved himself from 
 
William H. Seward 197 
 
 defeat and kept to his purposes. He did believe the 
 party could succeed in i860 and trimmed his sails for 
 the second contest. The Missouri compromise had 
 been repealed, the Kansas-Nebraska bill passed and 
 James Buchanan had been elected President. These 
 things on the surface seemed to make the new party 
 futile, which it would have been but for the dissen- 
 sions among its opponents. The country itself was 
 weary of the continuous contention and would gladly 
 have sunk the slavery question in the bottom of the 
 sea, but the moves made to save it kept the Abolition 
 cause alive and the Southern leaders fanned its flame. 
 Seward stood with Douglas in favor of Popular 
 Sovereignty, and astonished the Republicans in the 
 Senate by supporting Buchanan's army bill in 1857. 
 This, men like John P. Hale opposed in the fear that 
 the augmented force would be used to coerce Kansas. 
 Seward had no such apprehension. "We are fighting," 
 he said in reply to Hale a for a majority of the states. 
 They are already sixteen to fifteen. Whatever this ad- 
 ministration may do — whatever anybody may do, be- 
 fore one year from this time we shall be nineteen to 
 fifteen." Which was precisely what the South was 
 afraid of. When taken to task by Republicans Seward 
 replied tartly: "I know nothing, I care nothing — I 
 never did, I never shall — for party." He saw clearly 
 the consistency of Douglas and it appealed strongly 
 to his sense of the higher law. By 1858 Seward had 
 come to be recognized as the chief power in the Re- 
 publican party despite his declaration of indifference. 
 Lincoln had been defeated by Douglas. His "house di- 
 vided" was still standing when Seward made his sec- 
 
198 William H. Seward 
 
 ond notable declaration at Rochester, N. Y., on Octo- 
 ber 25, 1858, saying: "So incompatible are the two 
 systems that every new state makes its first political 
 act a choice of the one and an exclusion of the other, 
 even at the cost of civil war, if necessary. They who 
 think that it is accidental, unnecessary, the work of 
 interested or fanatical agitators and therefore ephem- 
 eral, mistake the case altogether. It is an irrepressible 
 conflict between opposing and enduring forces, and it 
 means that the United States must and will, sooner 
 or later, become entirely a slave-holding nation or 
 entirely a free-labor nation. * * * I know and you 
 know that revolution has begun. I know and all the 
 world knows that revolutions never go backwards. " 
 
 The November elections followed. To the amaze- 
 ment of all, the despised Republicans were in control 
 of Congress, and Seward stood foremost among them. 
 When Congress came to organize, the Southern sen- 
 ators and representatives were in the utmost dismay. 
 Secession was in the air. John Sherman's candidacy 
 for Speaker was looked upon as the forerunner of 
 Seward's nomination and election the next year, 
 termed by Roger A. Pryor "the ultimate catastrophe." 
 Nobody dreamed of Abraham Lincoln. Seward was 
 the bogey man. Sherman lost the speakership to a 
 nonentity from New Jersey. There was a little ces- 
 sation of stress, when John Brown's raid on Harper's 
 Ferry re-awoke the issue. 
 
 To Seward the situation seemed absurd, as indeed 
 it was: "It will be an overwhelming source of shame 
 as well as sorrow if we thirty millions * * * cannot 
 so combine prudence with humanity, in our conduct 
 
William H. Seward 199 
 
 ■— ————1 — 
 
 concerning the one disturbing subject of slavery. * * * 
 There is not over the face of the whole world to be 
 found one representative of our country who is not an 
 apologist for the extension of slavery." 
 
 It was his wish that the demands for disunion 
 should be considered "seriously and with a just modera- 
 tion." He would so plead, but he also was unable to 
 regard the "extraordinary declamations" as he termed 
 them as likely of fulfillment as "so unnatural that they 
 will find no hand to execute them." The radical anti- 
 slavery men considered this tone one of weakness and 
 it likewise failed to soothe the South. Some men re- 
 garded the speech as sensible and sound. Wendell 
 Phillips charged that Seward had shaped it so as to 
 suit Wall Street. 
 
 The Republican National Convention was now due 
 with the stage set for Seward. Senator Preston King 
 wrote John Bigelow on April 23, i860: "I think as 
 I have thought for a long time that Governor Seward 
 will be nominated." "Could a popular vote on the 
 subject be taken," observes James Ford Rhodes, "the 
 majority in the Republican States would have been 
 overwhelmingly in his favor. Intensely anxious for the 
 nomination and confidently expecting it, he was alike 
 the choice of the politicians and the people." 
 
 But obstacles rose suddenly and thick in his path. 
 His belief in the "irrepressible conflict" was one of 
 these. He had been outspoken against Know-Nothing- 
 ism with its antipathy to immigrants. He was hooked 
 up with high finance through his connection with Thur- 
 low Weed, said an underground whisper. William 
 Cullen Bryant found him "encumbered with bad as- 
 
200 William H. Seward 
 
 sociates." Most active of all his enemies was Horace 
 Greeley, his former political partner, who was furi- 
 ously in opposition to his nomination. He went to 
 Chicago waving a banner for Edward Bates of Mis- 
 souri, who was an owner of slaves but a liberal. Gree- 
 ley favored Lincoln for Vice-President. Frank P. and 
 Montgomery Blair were fellow Bates boomers. Gree- 
 ley charged that Thurlow Weed, who was handling 
 Seward, had plenty of money and was using it with 
 effect. Weed's money had a brass band playing tune- 
 fully at the Richmond House, where he had opened 
 a Seward headquarters, and copious quantities of cham- 
 pagne. It was arranged that William M. Evarts of 
 New York would nominate Seward, while Carl Schurz 
 of Wisconsin and Austin Blair of Michigan, were to 
 second. Between times bands serenaded delegations 
 who were expected to vote the right way. Greeley 
 trailed the musicians urging against Seward. He made 
 his great influence felt first in the Massachusetts dele- 
 gation and others from New England. Virginia turned 
 to Lincoln. Yet Greeley after going over the ground 
 thought Seward would win and so telegraphed the 
 New York Tribune. 
 
 The convention met in the Wigwam on May 16, 
 i860. David Wilmot of Pennsylvania, father of the 
 famous proviso, called it to order and George Ashmun, 
 of Massachusetts, a forgotten name, was permanent 
 chairman. Bates for all of Greeley's efforts could poll 
 but 48 votes on the first ballot. Seward had 173^2 to 
 102 for Abraham Lincoln, 49 for Salmon P. Chase 
 and 50 y 2] for Simon Cameron. On the second call 
 Seward counted 184. The third gave him 180, while 
 
SEWAED'S GEAND STAEEIJTO TOUE. 
 
 KING RICfiABD III.— Up with my Wigwam! herb will I LIE to-ni<jht. 
 
 SEWARD ON THE HUNT FOR VOTES 
 
 Seward was a formidable contender for the Republican nomination, which 
 Lincoln captured. From Vanity Fair, October 13, 18G0 
 
William H. Seward 201 
 
 Lincoln increased to 131^. Then in the midst of the 
 balloting delegates shifted by shoals, and Lincoln was 
 nominated with 350 out of the 450 delegates to his 
 credit. It was an amazing exhibition of acumen on his 
 part. The rail splitter had outdone the subtle Weed 
 and the sophisticated Seward. Made unanimous the 
 nomination startled the country in its unexpectedness 
 and roused the slave-states into a wide-spread spirit 
 of secession. 
 
 There was some rejoicing in the South, however 
 over Seward's rejection. Senator Robert Toombs, for 
 one declared that "Actaeon had been devoured by his 
 own dogs." Deep indeed was the disappointment of 
 the Seward following. The case-hardened Thurlow 
 Weed broke down and shed a shower of tears. Others 
 thought principle had been tossed aside for expediency 
 in the choice of Lincoln. Harking back to Harrison's 
 Log Cabin, they saw a "rail splitter" chosen for the 
 sake of a slogan. James Russell Lowell, then editor of 
 the Atlantic Monthly expressed the higher feeling 
 when he wrote in commenting on the result: "We 
 should have been pleased with Mr. Seward's nomina- 
 tion for the very reason we have been assigned for 
 passing him by — that he represented the most ad- 
 vanced doctrines of his party." "Since the death of 
 Webster we have not seen men so sober and sad in 
 this city" recorded the Boston Courier. "I am" wrote 
 Seward himself u a leader deposed by his own party, in 
 the hour of organization for decisive battle." He did 
 not sulk, however, but plunged actively into the cam- 
 paign throughout which he spoke, with enormous ef- 
 fect, travelling as far west as Lawrence, Kansas. At- 
 
202 William H. Seward 
 
 tacking slavery he pleaded for a policy of patience 
 and loving kindness toward the brethren of the South, 
 yet proclaiming all the while the "irrepressible" na- 
 ture of the conflict, holding it "high time we know 
 whether this is a constitutional government under 
 which we live" — a somewhat vain appeal for one who 
 had so solemnly sat upon a "higher law than the Con- 
 stitution. " 
 
 There was much opposition when it became known 
 that Lincoln had offered Seward the place of Secre- 
 tary of State in his cabinet. Greeley frothed. "Seward," 
 he wrote Schuyler Colfax, "is a poor, worthless devil 
 and old Abe seems to have a weakness for such." So 
 strong was the opposition that Seward withdrew his 
 acceptance. Lincoln sent for him and asked him to 
 "hold on," as he did not feel he could get along with- 
 out him. Seward reconsidered after a day of reflection. 
 
 His first task was to meet the Southern commis- 
 sioners who came to Washington seeking to arrange 
 a peaceful separation of the states, and were sent 
 back empty-handed. They had thought to play with 
 him, overlooking, or rather despising, Lincoln. They 
 carried with them, however, the delusion that Seward 
 controlled the President. The Washington government 
 vacillated. That at Montgomery pressed its point. 
 There was confusion in the cabinet and Lincoln's mind 
 had not worked to a conclusion. "We are at the end 
 of a months' administration," wrote Seward to Lin- 
 coln on April i, 1861, "and yet without a policy, 
 either domestic or foreign." It was impossible to 
 frame one without taking the aggressive, which 
 neither the President or any other else wished to do. 
 
William H. Seward 203 
 
 He advised an effort to shift the question before the 
 public from slavery to union or dis-union. The seced- 
 ing of the South had shaped the issue on precisely that 
 line. He wanted the great European nations challenged 
 on their attitude toward the new "republic," which 
 would have been ridiculous at the moment. Behind this 
 lay the far-fetched idea that it would provoke foreign 
 wrath and so unite the country for common safety. 
 
 The domestic policy soon shaped itself in an effort 
 to reinforce the beleagured forts at Charleston and 
 Pensacola. The South fired on Sumter and the "issue" 
 was no longer specious. When England recognized 
 the South as a belligerent, presaging recognition of it 
 as a nation, Seward returned a sharp response to Earl 
 Russell, advising him that such steps might result "in 
 war between the United States and one, two, or even 
 three European nations." This was correct, though 
 Thurlow Weed thought Seward "too decisive" and 
 caused an outburst in England, where there were few 
 to love the Union anyway, especially with mills stop- 
 ping because the cotton supply was cut off. Soon a real 
 casus belli developed. Captain Charles Wilkes, U. S. 
 N. commanding the steam frigate San Jacinto f enroute 
 home from Africa overhauled on the high seas the 
 British passenger steamer Trent, bearing James M. 
 Mason of Virginia and John Slidell of Louisiana, Con- 
 federate commissioners to foreign parts, and took 
 them off together with their secretaries. The party was 
 carried to Boston and put in Fort Warren. The act 
 was illegal beyond doubt, under our own rule con- 
 cerning the right of search. Britain promptly de- 
 manded their release. Seward acted prudently, though 
 
204 William H. Seward 
 
 the country was quite willing to defy England. John 
 Bigelow is responsible for a statement made him, he 
 says, by Richard M. Blatchford, United States Minis- 
 ter to Rome that "Lincoln was fully determined not 
 to surrender the commission," saying decidedly "No" 
 when Seward laid Russell's dispatch before him. The 
 Secretary said it was a grave step to refuse. "No mat- 
 ter," replied Lincoln, "I will never give them up." 
 
 "Then I shall be obliged to ask you, Mr. President, 
 to write the reply to Earl Russell," said Seward, "for 
 the strength of the argument from our past policy, 
 so far as I can see is all in favor of a compliance with 
 his demands." 
 
 To this Lincoln on reflection agreed, but required 
 Seward to write one on his own lines. This Seward did. 
 When Lincoln had perused it, he dropped his own let- 
 ter, unread, into the grate, with "Seward, that argu- 
 ment is unanswerable." So the perilous incident was 
 safely closed. 
 
 Seward was not discomposed at the usurpation of 
 Maximillian, the Austrian Arch-Duke who set up a 
 throne in Mexico, supported by French bayonets as a 
 descendant of Charles V under whom Cortez con- 
 quered Montezuma. "I do not write or even talk just 
 now about Mexican affairs," he wrote John Bigelow 
 then in charge in France. "I think it prudent to watch 
 and wait. Between you and myself alone, I have a be- 
 lief that the European state, whichever one it may be, 
 that commits itself to intervention anywhere in North 
 America, will sooner or later fetch up in the arms of 
 a nation of an Oriental country not specially distin- 
 guished for amiability of manners or temper." 
 
William H. Seward 205 
 
 He meant Russia whose czar Nicholas kept sub- 
 stantial fleets of warships in the harbors of San Fran- 
 cisco and New York for a season, while Louis Napo- 
 leon was trying to make mischief in Mexico. 
 
 After the battle of Fredericksburg there was so 
 much criticism of the administration that Seward and 
 Chase offered to resign from the cabinet. Chase had 
 been an uncomfortable member. He was disposed of 
 by being made Chief Justice when Roger Taney died. 
 Seward stayed on Lincoln's insistence. 
 
 February 25, 1863, Seward wrote to Bigelow: "On 
 the whole things are favorable. Republics, especially 
 Federal ones must have agitations. There must be cur- 
 rents and counter-currents of opinion. But there will 
 probably be no one of them strong enough to swamp 
 so staunch a ship." He declined the French offer of 
 mediation when it came along and would have delayed 
 the Emancipation Proclamation. 
 
 The Secretary of State outrode all storms until that 
 fateful 14th of April, 1865, when John Wilkes Booth 
 slew Lincoln and his fellow assassins sought Seward's 
 life. Nine days before the Secretary had jumped from 
 his carriage as the horses ran away and had been se- 
 verely hurt. He was delirious and in bed, when Lewis 
 Powell, one of the band, pushed his way into the sick- 
 room, having gained entrance to the house on the pre- 
 tense of delivering medicine sent by the attending doc- 
 tor. Frederick W. Seward, the elder son, sought to oust 
 him, when he was felled by a blow from a revolver 
 butt. G. T. Robinson, the male nurse in attendance, 
 was slashed with a bowie knife and knocked senseless. 
 Then the assassin sprang upon the Secretary as he lay 
 
206 William H. Seward 
 
 half unconscious, cut his face and throat with gashes 
 and fled. Seward fell from his bed and was found in- 
 sensible on the floor. His wounds were deep but not 
 fatal, though he never fully recovered from the effect 
 of the horrors of that awful night. 
 
 Andrew Johnson retained Seward as Secretary of 
 State through his troubled term. Seward supported 
 him loyally. He skillfully edged Napoleon III out of 
 Mexico, while the Mexicans disposed of Maximillian. 
 Seward's single greatest service to his country as Sec- 
 retary of State was the purchase of Alaska from Rus- 
 sia for $7,200,000, the best real estate bargain in our 
 history after Jefferson's $15,000,000 Louisiana pur- 
 chase. The territory bought covered 577,390 square 
 miles, pierced with great rivers, heavy with forests 
 and touching the eternal arctic ice. The treaty was fin- 
 ished and signed at four o'clock on the morning of 
 March 30, 1867, by Seward and Baron Stoeckl, the 
 Russian minister at Washington. The nation did not 
 thrill at the transaction. It was denounced as "Sew- 
 ard's folly" and made fun of by the pert paragraphers 
 as a land of seals and snow. Russia had pressed the 
 sale and Seward had bought, not in a prophetic spirit, 
 but to oblige a friend who had lent large influence dur- 
 ing the war. He did not foresee the millions in seals, 
 fur, copper, gold, coal, and salmon that were to re- 
 ward his venture. It stands to-day one of the richest of 
 our national assets. 
 
 Rhodes charges him with being seized with the an- 
 nexation fever. Perhaps he was. His next negotiation 
 was to acquire the Danish Virgin Islands for $7,500,- 
 000 in gold, but the Senate refused the trade, while 
 
William H. Seward 207 
 
 the House by a two-thirds vote denounced the pro- 
 posed transaction. Forty years afterwards Woodrow 
 Wilson paid $25,000,000 for St. Thomas and St. 
 Croix and the deal went through without a murmur. 
 Seward also advocated the annexation of Hawaii and 
 Santo Domingo and was turned down. We have since 
 taken over Hawaii to our great advantage and "run" 
 not only Santo Domingo, but Haiti the black half of 
 Hispaniola. So he was wise and foreseeing where other 
 men were stupid and blind. 
 
 The last complication Seward had to handle was 
 the Fenian raid on Canada, operating from the United 
 States. In this he won the commendation of Sir Freder- 
 ick Bruce, British Minister at Washington for acting 
 u when the moment for acting came, with a vigor, a 
 promptness and a sincerity which call for the warmest 
 acknowledgment." 
 
 When Johnson left the White House to make way 
 for U. S. Grant, March 4, 1869, Mr. Seward, weary 
 with his labors and weakened by the blows of the as- 
 sassin, retired to private life. He was on the verge of 
 three score and ten. His life had been devoted to pub- 
 lic service and this was his first and last chance to look 
 about him. He therefore made a journey around the 
 world, not then an easy thing to do, and put his ex- 
 periences into an interesting volume. Retiring, to Au- 
 burn, death called for him on October 10, 1872. 
 
 It may be said of him that although he failed of 
 nomination for the Presidency, he never lost a cause. 
 There was u a higher law than the constitution" and 
 the conflict was "irrepressible" until it ended in blood ! 
 
XI 
 GEORGE BRINTON McCLELLAN 
 
 "little mac" 
 
 CAPTAIN McCLELLAN was quite young" 
 wrote the wife of Jefferson Davis in her bi- 
 ography of that gentleman "and looked 
 younger than he really was from an inveterate habit 
 of blushing when suddenly addressed; his modesty, his 
 gentle manner and the appositeness of the few remarks 
 he made, gave us a most favorable impression of him." 
 This was a view dating back to 1855, when the youth- 
 ful officer had been selected by Davis, then Secretary 
 of War in the Cabinet of President Franklin Pierce, 
 to be one of three military observers sent to the 
 Crimea, where France, England and Turkey were 
 fighting Russia. He was, it appears, a favorite with 
 the Secretary whose "appreciation of Captain McClel- 
 lan," the lady continues, "was an instance of his happy 
 faculty of discerning the merits of young people." 
 
 At the time these reflections were formed Captain 
 McClellan was twenty-eight years old, having been 
 born in Philadelphia, December 3, 1826. His father 
 was Dr. George McClellan, a physician of standing. 
 After a preparatory course at the school maintained 
 by the University of Pennsylvania, he entered West 
 Point in 1842, graduating with the Class of 1846, in 
 
 208 
 
George Brinton McClellan 209 
 
 time to get a taste of the War with Mexico, as a 
 Second Lieutenant of Engineers. Brave conduct at 
 Contreras and Churubusco gave him the brevet of 
 lieutenant and further gallantry at the storming of 
 Chapultepec made him captain in like fashion. 
 
 From Mexico, together with his company of engi- 
 neers, he was assigned to West Point and remained 
 there as an instructor until 185 1. In 1852, he accom- 
 panied Captain Randolph B. Marcy on an exploring 
 trip to the Red River in the South, and from this duty 
 spent his time, until sent abroad, in the Oregon terri- 
 tory on surveys for a possible Pacific railroad by that 
 route. 
 
 His stay in the Crimea was supplemented with mili- 
 tary inspections in various Continental States, with his 
 fellow officers. McClellan wrote the report of their 
 observations, which was hailed as u a model of con- 
 cise and accurate information," adding luster to u an 
 already brilliant reputation." 
 
 This high repute took him out of the army in Janu- 
 ary, 1857, where he was then a Captain of Cavalry. 
 He resigned to become chief engineer of the new Illi- 
 nois Central Railroad Company, which employed as 
 one of its lawyers, a tall, ungainly man living in Spring- 
 field, named Abraham Lincoln, much given to reciting 
 funny tales. McClellan was soon promoted to the vice- 
 presidency of the line. From this post he was later 
 transferred to the presidency of the Eastern Division 
 of the Ohio and Mississippi railway. This gave him 
 more prominence and a good salary for so young a 
 man. He married Captain Marcy's daughter, Ellen 
 Mary, May 22, i860, and set up housekeeping in Cin- 
 
210 George Brinton McClellan 
 
 cinnati, where his duties kept him busy and well re- 
 warded until Fort Sumter was fired upon and taken. 
 
 Politically, he was a Democrat, and a follower of 
 Stephen A. Douglas, whom he had met in Illinois, and 
 kept some company with, during the debates with Lin- 
 coln. He thought Douglas far the abler man of the 
 two, and as one who was pursuing the right path in 
 dealing with the slavery question, observing correctly 
 that while the Abolitionists were few in the North, 
 Free Soilers were numerous. While not believing in 
 slavery, he was willing the problem should work itself 
 out, but when the South went to war to protect a right 
 it had decided to be divine, he accepted the challenge 
 in the belief that it was just as well to fight the issue 
 out. 
 
 His trouble came when it befell that the fighting was 
 to be done under the auspices of a new party, com- 
 posed of many elements, and not clear as to its own 
 purposes, or certain in its leadership. 
 
 William H. Seward, one of its chief promoters, had 
 failed to get the nomination for Presidency. The man 
 who won was the story-telling attorney for the Illinois 
 Central, who certainly commanded no sort of respect 
 in McCellan's mind. His own reputation led to his re- 
 ceiving several offers of command, one from Governor 
 A. G. Curtin of Pennsylvania. While en route to Phil- 
 adelphia he called on Governor William Dennison of 
 Ohio, who caused the Legislature to amend the militia 
 law so he could make McClellan a major-general to 
 command the State Troops. This position was at once 
 given him, April 23, 1861. May 13th, having sent the 
 
George Brinton McClellan 211 
 
 commander-in-chief, General Winfield Scott some sug- 
 gestions, he was given an appointment to command a 
 Department of Ohio, covering that State, Indiana and 
 Illinois, to which were soon added, parts of Western 
 Virginia and Pennsylvania. He at once became tre- 
 mendously busy. An old companion in arms, U. S. 
 Grant, of Galena, Illinois, came to Cincinnati to ask 
 for employment. McClellan was absent at the moment. 
 Before he returned, Grant had accepted a State col- 
 onelcy from Governor Richard J. Ogelsby. "This was 
 his good luck," McClellan observes, in telling his Own 
 Story "for had I been there I would no doubt have 
 given him a place on my Staff and he would probably 
 have remained with me and shared my fate." 
 
 This is assuming a good deal when it comes to con- 
 trasting the careers of the two men. He took on large 
 responsibilities, even conferring with Simon B. Buck- 
 ner, commander of Kentucky's troops, on the question 
 of guaranteeing the "neutrality" of that State, which 
 he agreed to do if the rebels kept out of it. This 
 caused much criticism. His friend, Simon, soon became 
 anything but neutral himself. May 26, 1861, McClel- 
 lan ordered an armed movement across the Ohio into 
 Virginia, which he announced with imposing proclama- 
 tions to both his army and the First Families. He had 
 no trouble in occupying all of the country west of the 
 Blue Ridge and north of the Kanawha. Henry A. 
 Wise and J. B. Floyd, late Secretary of War, were in 
 command of the Confederates and in no hurry to fight. 
 He was making plans for conquering the mountain dis- 
 tricts of the South, when Bull Run sent a scare all over 
 
212 George Brinton McClellan 
 
 the North. It looked as though Washington must fall, 
 and in the vast confusion McClellan was summoned 
 to the capital, which he reached July 26, 1861, after 
 riding sixty miles on horseback to catch a train. W. S. 
 Rosecrans took over his command. In an affair at Rich 
 Mountain, McClelland men had scored a bit of success 
 and the alarmed country turned to him as a savior. He 
 evidently felt so himself. Indeed, adulation began 
 when he left Ohio for the "front." He wrote his wife 
 that he met with u a continued ovation along the road," 
 while at every station "crowds had assembled to see 
 the young general." Children were held up by mothers 
 to take his hand; all sorts "cheering and crying 'God 
 bless you.* " At Chillicothe the ladies gave him "about 
 twenty beautiful bouquets" and "almost killed" him 
 with kindness. He could hear them say: "He is our gen- 
 eral." "Look at him, how young he is." "He will thrash 
 them." Quite naturally he felt exalted. "One thing 
 takes up a great deal of time-" he writes again, "yet I 
 cannot avoid it. Crowds of the country people who 
 have heard of me and read my proclamations come in 
 from all directions to thank me, shake me by the hand 
 and look at their liberator, the general. Of course, I 
 have to see them and talk to them. Well, it is a proud 
 and glorious thing to see the whole people here, simple 
 and unsophisticated, looking up to me as their deliv- 
 erer from tyranny." "God is on our side" he wrote 
 later. 
 
 A message came from Scott "Charmed with my en- 
 ergy, movements and success." McClellan thought it 
 "pretfty well for the old man." At the moment he 
 valued "the old man's praises highly." 
 
George Brinton McClellan 213 
 
 He got to Washington on July 26, 1861, and called 
 on President Lincoln, who told him he was to com- 
 mand Washington and its defenses against the ex- 
 pected Beauregard and his victorious army. The order 
 when issued instituted a "Division of the Potomac/' 
 He took hold the next day. August 4th, he had "re- 
 stored order." Also confidence. He dined at a State 
 dinner with the President, and was bored. August 8th, 
 he had a "row" with Scott and was "pestered to death 
 with Senators." August 9th, he wrote of Scott as "a 
 great obstacle." The North was already voting Lin- 
 coln a failure and demanding a dictator. "I receive 
 letter after letter" McClellan wrote his wife, "have 
 conversation after conversation, calling on me to save 
 the nation, alluding to the Presidency, dictatorship, 
 etc." He called upon Heaven to note that he had no 
 such aspiration, but "would cheerfully take the dicta- 
 torship and agree to lay down my life when the country 
 is saved." "God grant that I may bring this war to an 
 end and be permitted to spend the rest of my days 
 with you" is his summing up to his wife. 
 
 Mutinous ninety day troops who wanted to go home 
 now troubled him. He quelled a kick in the valiant 
 Second Maine by ordering sixty-three of its members 
 sent to Dry Tortugas for the rest of the war. A bat- 
 talion of regular foot, a squadron of cavalry and a bat- 
 tery of the same sort was needed to calm the Seventy- 
 ninth New York, famous afterwards as Col. Andrew 
 D. Baird's Highlanders. The Scots soon became meek 
 before this array. Official Washington, including Lin- 
 coln and Scott, "sit on the verge of the precipice, and 
 cannot realize what they see." 
 
214 George Brinton McClellan 
 
 That McClellan had a poor opinion of Lincoln crops 
 out continually. "Long before the war" he observes in 
 one instance, "when vice-president of the Illinois Cen- 
 tral Railroad Company, I knew Mr. Lincoln, for he 
 was one of the counsel for the company. More than 
 once have I been with him in out of the way county 
 seats where some important case was being tried, and, 
 in the lack of sleeping accommodations, have spent 
 the night in front of a stove listening to the unceasing 
 flow of anecdotes from his lips. He was never at a loss, 
 and I could never quite make up my mind how many he 
 invented on the spur of the moment. His stories were 
 seldom refined, but were always to the point." 
 
 The general was soon conscious of another thing. 
 Recruiting was not kept up and it became clear that 
 there was no hurry to end the war. He thought this 
 due to indecision in the ruling party over dealing with 
 slavery. The politicians were not certain that, with the 
 sudden crushing of the South, the North would stand 
 for the abolition of slavery. Seward and Chase, who 
 desired it destroyed, stood in the way of action. Lin- 
 coln wanted, frankly, to save the Union, with or with- 
 out slavery. So things slackened up. Ordinary obstacles 
 were reinforced by those of deliberate neglect and 
 delay. 
 
 The break with Scott came on September 27, 1861, 
 when Mr. Lincoln sent a carriage for McClellan 
 to meet with the Cabinet in the commanding general's 
 office. "Before we got far" wrote McClellan, "the 
 general raised a row with me." He kept cool, but Scott 
 showed much aversion at parting and very reluctantly 
 took the younger man's hand. "So we parted" McClel* 
 
George Brinton McClellan 215 
 
 Ian concludes : "As he threw down the glove, I took it 
 up. I presume war is declared." 
 
 He continued to charm the army, if not its chief 
 commander. "You have no idea how the men brighten 
 up when I go among them" he wrote his wife. "I can 
 see every eye glisten. Yesterday they nearly pulled me 
 to pieces in one regiment. You never heard such yell- 
 ing." 
 
 We got further glimpses of his views of Lincoln. 
 Their earlier acquaintance, and its resulting opinion, 
 was most unfortunate. It led to McClellan's develop- 
 ing a sense of contempt for the President, while he had 
 no conception whatever of his greatness. Lincoln, too, 
 probably suffered in his estimates by reason of his con- 
 tacts with the general as an employe of the railroad. 
 He comprehended his conceit and was uncertain of his 
 abilities, which, after all, were very considerable. The 
 first reference to Lincoln found in his published letters 
 to Mrs. McClellan reads: "I enclose a card just re- 
 ceived from 'A. Lincoln/ It shows too much defer- 
 ence to be seen outside." 
 
 One point in McClellan's quarrel with Scott was 
 that he wanted to call his command the "Army of the 
 Potomac," which he did. The old man preferred to 
 stick to the department plan, justly suspecting, per- 
 haps, that McClellan's greed for glory was at the bot- 
 tom of the idea. He was certainly Napoleonic in all 
 his conduct. Learning that a committee of New York 
 bankers were urging the retirement of the incompe- 
 tent Cameron as Secretary of War: "I interfered, and 
 by my action with the President, no doubt saved him." 
 
 If he did, it was but briefly. Edwin M. Stanton was 
 
216 George Brinton McClellan 
 
 soon in the chair. McClellan says Stanton consulted 
 him about accepting what meant to him "a great sac- 
 rifice." McClellan advised his taking the place, but 
 u instead of using his new position to assist me, he 
 threw every obstacle in my way, and did all in his 
 power to create difficulty and distrust between the 
 President and myself. I soon found it impossible to 
 gain access to him." Both men were Democrats at the 
 moment. McClellan believed that if he "had been suc- 
 cessful in his first campaign the war would perhaps, 
 have terminated without the abolition of slavery," 
 and that "the leaders of the radical branch of the Re- 
 publican party preferred political control in one sec- 
 tion of a divided country, to being in the minority in a 
 restored Union." There is much fact to support the 
 latter opinion. "Not only did these people desire the 
 abolition of slavery" he observes, "but * * * in such 
 a manner and under such circumstances that the 
 slaves would at once be endowed with the electoral 
 franchise, while the intelligent white man of the South 
 should be deprived of it" — -which was what happened, 
 long enough to seal the "radicals" in power. To this 
 he attributed the falldown of his peninsula campaign, 
 a sound strategic move that came near to success. 
 
 The real cause of his failure was, however, his ina- 
 bility to "warm up" to the President, the reason for 
 which, beyond doubt, dated back to their Illinois re- 
 lationship. He simply would not accept the President 
 at even part value. Once, in company with Secretary 
 of State Seward, the President called at McClellan's 
 headquarters on the Peninsula. The general was ab- 
 sent. They waited. When he returned he went upstairs, 
 
George Brinton McClellan 217 
 
 though advised by an orderly that Mr. Lincoln and 
 Mr. Seward were waiting to see him. They allowed 
 some time to elapse, and then, thinking he might not 
 know they were present, sent to appraise him. Curt 
 word came back that he was taking a nap and could 
 not be disturbed. That the tall rail splitter did not 
 stride up the steps and yank the warrior from his 
 couch, is a tribute to his great patience. A couple of 
 well-placed kicks would have been ill-mannered, but 
 they would have produced action. To avoid snubs, the 
 President thereafter called war councils at the White 
 House. On one occasion, at least, McClellan did not 
 come. Those who did were indignant. "Never mind," 
 said Mr. Lincoln more than indulgently. "I will hold 
 Mr. McClelland horse, if he will only bring us suc- 
 cess." 
 
 It chanced that following the appointment of Stan- 
 ton, McClellan fell ill with typhoid. Military motion in 
 the North waited upon his recovery; not that of the 
 South. McClellan did not appreciate the President's 
 patience. "I have just been interrupted by the Presi- 
 dent and Secretary Seward" he remarks after recov- 
 ering, "who had nothing very particular to say, except 
 some stories to tell, which were, as usual, very perti- 
 nent, and some pretty good. I never in my life met any 
 one so full of anecdotes as our friend. He is never at 
 loss for a story apropos of any known subject or inci- 
 dent." 
 
 In October, 1861, there was some fighting at Lees- 
 burg. "Horrible butchery" McCellan called it. "Colo- 
 nel Baker, who was killed, was in command and vio- 
 lated all military rules and precautions. It was 
 
218 George Brinton McClellan 
 
 entirely unauthorized by me, and I am in no manner 
 responsible for it." 
 
 When Scott retired on November 3, 1861, McClel- 
 lan escorted him to the depot at four o'clock, A. M., in 
 "pitch dark and a pouring rain/' and at once assumed 
 his shoes by the President's appointment. He had 
 reached the top with amazing celerity. Yet his eleva- 
 tion produced no major actions on his part. Subordi- 
 nate commanders were doing much at a distance, but 
 the heart of the Confederacy was unassailed. He al- 
 lowed Halleck to mistreat Grant after the victory of 
 Fort Donelson, that meant so much to the North, and 
 on March 12, 1862, was relieved of his duties as com- 
 mander-in-chief and given that of the Army of the 
 Potomac, in a hope that he could do something with 
 the splendid force he had created. a The intelligence 
 took me entirely by surprise" he states, "breaking the 
 unity of action which it was my purpose to enforce." 
 It was this unity of action idea that brought out Mr. 
 Lincoln's famous letter of February 3, 1862, to wit: 
 
 Executive Mansion, 
 Washington, Feb. 3, 1862. 
 
 My dear Sir: You and I have distinct and different plans 
 for a movement of the Army of the Potomac; yours to be 
 done by the Chesapeake, up the Rappahannock to Urbana, and 
 across land to the terminus of the railroad on the York river; 
 mine to move directly to a point on the railroad southwest of 
 Manassas. 
 
 If you will give satisfactory answers to the following ques- 
 tions I shall gladly yield my plans to yours: 
 
 1st. Does not your plan involve a greatly larger expendi- 
 ture of time and money than mine? 
 
George Brinton McClellan 219 
 
 2nd. Wherein is a victory more certain by your plan than 
 mine ? 
 
 3rd. Wherein is a victory more valuable by your plan than 
 mine ? 
 
 4th. In fact, would it not be less valuable in this; that it 
 would break no great line of the enemy's communications, while 
 mine would? 
 
 5th. In case of disaster would not a retreat be more difficult 
 by your plan than mine? 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 Abraham Lincoln. 
 
 Despite the prodding, all remained quiet along the 
 Potomac. It would be tedious to recite the excuses of 
 which the general avails himself in his memoirs. He 
 did develop some motion by May. The peninsula was 
 invaded, according to McClelland plan. The Battle of 
 Williamsburg was fought and McClellan won. He 
 pushed on toward Richmond. Hanover Court House 
 followed. Then Fair Oaks, a great fight. He was 
 steadily winning his way, but his reports were "incor- 
 rectly printed" and "raised a tempest in a tea pot." He 
 "never saw such petty feeling" in his life, as he had 
 seen "developed during this unhappy war." These re- 
 marks indicate a weakness of the stomach. He was in 
 great form, however, in ceremonies. The Bourbon 
 princes, Count de Paris and de Joinville, were on his 
 staff. General Prim came from Spain to observe 
 McClellan's strategy. His camp was ornate and "mili- 
 tary" to the last degree. Then followed the famous 
 seven days' fighting, almost in sight of Richmond and 
 complete victory. What stopped its course? This is 
 McClellan's version : 
 
220 George Brinton McClellan 
 
 Headquarters, Army of the Potomac, 
 Savage's Station, June 28, 1862, 12. 20 A. M. 
 Hon. E. M. Stanton, Secretary of War: 
 
 I now know the full history of the day. On this side of the 
 river (the right bank) we repulsed several strong attacks. On 
 the left bank our men did all that men could do, all that sol- 
 diers could accomplish, but they were overwhelmed by vastly 
 superior numbers, even after I brought my last reserves into 
 action. The loss on both sides is terrible. I believe it will prove 
 to be the most desperate battle of the war. The sad remnants 
 of my men behave as men. Those battalions who fought most 
 bravely and suffered most are still in the best order. My regu- 
 lars were superb, and I count upon what are left to turn an- 
 other battle in company with their gallant comrades of the 
 volunteers. Had I twenty thousand (20,000), or even ten 
 thousand (10,000), fresh troops to use to-morrow, I could 
 take Richmond; but I have not a man in reserve, and shall be 
 glad to cover my retreat and save the material and personnel 
 of the army. 
 
 If we have lost the day we have yet preserved our honor, 
 and no one need blush for the Army of the Potomac. I have 
 lost this battle because my force was too small. 
 
 I again repeat that I am not responsible for this, and I say 
 it with the earnestness of a general who feels in his heart the 
 loss of every brave man who has been needlessly sacrificed to- 
 day. I still hope to retrieve our fortunes; but to do this the 
 government must view the matter in the same earnest light 
 that I do. You must send me very large reinforcements, but 
 send them at once. I shall draw back to this side of the 
 Chickahominy, and think I can withdraw all our material. 
 Please understand that in this battle we have lost nothing but 
 men, and those the best we have. 
 
 In addition to what I have already said, I only wish to 
 say to the President that I think he is wrong in regarding me 
 as ungenerous when I said that my force was too weak. I 
 
George Brinton McClellan 221 
 
 merely intimated a truth which to-day has been too plainly 
 proved. If, at this instant, I could dispose of ten thousand 
 (10,000) fresh men, I could gain the victory to-morrow. 
 
 I know that a few thousand more men would have changed 
 this battle from a defeat to a victory. As it is, the government 
 must not and cannot hold me responsible for the result. 
 
 I feel too earnestly to-night. I have seen too many dead and 
 wounded comrades to feel otherwise than that the government 
 has not sustained this army. If you do not do so now the game 
 is lost. 
 
 If I save this army now, I tell you plainly that I owe no 
 thanks to you or to any other person in Washington. 
 
 You have done your best to sacrifice this army. 
 
 G. B. McClellan. 
 U. S. commander-in-chief. 
 
 The reflex of this was the appointment of General 
 H. W. Halleck, "Two-faced" McClellan called him, 
 and proves it. His own star was setting fast and he 
 saw it lowering. There was certainly enough of bat- 
 tling. Harrison's Landing, Malvern Hill, Gaines' 
 Mill, were all to his credit. Yet Washington gave him 
 no hand. "I hear nothing from Washington" was his 
 report to his wife on July 28, 1862, "and I begin to be- 
 lieve that they intend to and hope that I and my army 
 may melt away under the hot sun." 
 
 He held, properly, that the war should be fought 
 on the line of the James, when Washington abruptly 
 shifted its front. The advantages gained were for- 
 feited and the Army of the Potomac recalled from 
 ground on which it had never been defeated. It was re- 
 centered at Alexandria. Lee's invasion of Maryland 
 now upset Washington anew, and McClellan began 
 
222 George Brinton McClellan 
 
 his last and brief campaign. South Mountain was a vic- 
 tory. "God bless you and all with you" wired Lincoln. 
 Antietam followed. While Lee claimed victory, the 
 palm was truly McClellan's. He inflicted the most 
 damage and held the field. Of Lee's invading host 
 5,000 were prisoners, with 13 guns, 39 stands of 
 colors and 15,000 small arms. The dead in gray lay 
 thick upon the fair soil. But for Burnside's blundering 
 it might well be believed that the Army of Northern 
 Virginia could have been destroyed — perhaps in spite 
 of it, had McClellan developed a vigor worthy of the 
 occasion. He had done much, and in his mind it 
 justified his neglect to do more. Of his generals 
 Mansfield was dead; Hooker, Richardson and Sedg- 
 wick wounded. No army ever fought better or more 
 bravely. They had earned a rest. This they took — 
 with the result that a war, which might then and there 
 have been ended, went on. Lee abandoned Maryland 
 and turned back across the Potomac, to stay there until 
 his last effort that ended much as at Antietam, at Get- 
 tysburg, where Meade did exactly as did McClellan 
 in not following up his victory. He did not, however, 
 lose his command. 
 
 Not one word came from Lincoln to McClellan 
 after Antietam to hail the result and nothing but 
 "plenty from Halleck, couched in almost insulting lan- 
 guage." Clearly, his success was a disappointment at 
 headquarters. He had taken the field on a verbal order 
 from Lincoln. The Secretary of War and the bureau- 
 crats would have none of it. McClellan trusted that he 
 had been "re-established in the confidence of the best 
 people of the nation." He thought he ought to treat 
 
Photograph by Herbert Photos., Inc. 
 
 GEORGE B. McCLELLAN 
 
George Brinton McClellan 223 
 
 Burnside very severely and probably would, as slow 
 and not fit to command more than a regiment. Before 
 he acted, the most amazing performance of the many 
 that made the conflict a reproach to intelligence and 
 patriotism, came to pass. 
 
 The battle ended on September 18th. McClellan 
 deliberately "weighed" the chances. He concluded that 
 if, by any mischance he was defeated, the way was open 
 for Lee to march unmolested to the great cities of the 
 North. He therefore decided upon caution, recupera- 
 tion and the awaiting of reinforcements to repair his 
 losses. The resulting outcry brushed away all just views 
 of what he had really done. Mr. Lincoln, in company 
 with O. M. Hatch, an Illinois friend, visited the camp. 
 Viewing it from a commanding hilltop, Lincoln re- 
 marked : 
 
 "Hatch, what's all this?" 
 
 "That's the Army of the Potomac." 
 
 "No, Hatch, no. That's McClellan's bodyguard." 
 
 It was more than that. It was a splendidly-made 
 and well-cared-for army, better than any that was to 
 succeed it. Thus it will be perceived that old opinions 
 affected the usually wise President. 
 
 On November 7, 1862, late in the evening, came an 
 end to all his glory and of his military service to the 
 United States. Ambrose E. Burnside entered his quar- 
 ters with Stanton's Adjutant — Buckingham. They bore 
 an order giving the command of the fine army he had 
 made to the incompetent Burnside, with instructions 
 for McClellan to repair to Trenton, N. J., and there 
 await orders that were never to come. "They have 
 made a great mistake," he commented to his wife. 
 
224 George Brinton McClellan 
 
 "Alas for my poor country ! I know in my inmost heart 
 she never had a truer sevant." 
 
 In retrospect he could see that he had made errors, 
 but "no great blunders" — which was entirely true. He 
 departed on Monday, November 10, 1862, from War- 
 rentown. "The officers and men felt terribly about the 
 change/' he informed Mrs. McClellan. "The men are 
 very sullen and have lost their good spirits entirely. 
 It made me feel very badly yesterday when I rode 
 among them and saw how bright and cheerful they 
 were and how glad they were to see me. Poor fellows ! 
 They did not know the change that had occurred." 
 
 Of his departure he made this rather curious chron- 
 icle : "I am very well and taking leave of the men. I 
 did not know before how much they loved me, nor how 
 dear they were to me. Gray-haired men came to me 
 with tears streaming down their cheeks. I never before 
 had to exercise so much self-control. The scenes of to- 
 day repay me for all I have endured." 
 
 That he was 'more exultant than depressed can easily 
 be imagined. Feeling himself much more popular than 
 the President, and more competent than any general 
 who had appeared or was likely to, he sat back com- 
 placently awaiting the call that he was certain would 
 come. Events pointed strongly in that direction for 
 many a despondent day. Burnside's blunders, result- 
 ing in the butchery of Fredericksburg, soon set him 
 aside. General after general tried the task only to 
 fail. Grant of whom much was expected had been 
 stopped by Lee with terrible slaughter at Cold Har- 
 bor. The renominated Lincoln was depressed as the 
 Democrats gathered at Chicago, August 29, 1864, with 
 
George Brinton McClellan 225 
 
 »i ■ 
 
 the very definite determination of nominating McClel- 
 lan. The convention contained many men of differing 
 views, but none as to the candidate. War Democrats, 
 Copperheads and Clement L. Vallandigham back from 
 his comic exile into the Confederacy, were all among 
 those present. August Belmont, the New York banker, 
 agent for the Rothschilds, called the gathering to or- 
 der and Horatio Seymour, of New York, became per- 
 manent chairman. He made a very impressive speech 
 to the text that the war as carried on by Lincoln was a 
 failure: "This administration cannot now save the 
 Union if it would," he declared. "It has by its procla- 
 mation, by vindictive legislation, by display of hate and 
 passion, placed obstacles in its pathway which it can- 
 not overcome, and has hampered its own freedom by 
 unconstitutional acts. This administration cannot save 
 this Union, we can. Mr. Lincoln values many things 
 above the Union; we put it first of all. He thinks a 
 proclamation is worth more than peace. We think the 
 blood of our people more precious than the edicts of a 
 President. We demand no condition for the preserva- 
 tion of the Union. We are shackled with no hates, no 
 prejudices, no passions. " 
 
 Vallandigham put through a resolution demanding 
 that a convention or some other unmilitary means be 
 employed to bring about peace. On the first ballot 
 McClellan received 202 y 2 votes and his nomination 
 was made unanimous. George H. Pendleton, of Ohio, 
 was selected as the nominee for Vice-President. When 
 the convention adjourned fate was seemingly against 
 the North. From his shelf in Trenton, McClellan 
 gazed complacently upon the dismal scene. He was be- 
 
226 George Brinton McClellan 
 
 yond doubt a great favorite with his soldiers, and an 
 able general. The Democrats of the North felt that he 
 had been deposed because his fame made him a Presi- 
 dential possibility, which was true, though swifter 
 work with the sword would have saved him. Disaster 
 after disaster had vindicated McClellan. If he had not 
 succeeded, at least he had not failed. 
 
 To add to the popular discontent, the badly led 
 Army of the Potomac made no secret of its dissatis- 
 faction. It wailed with much fervor a mournful lay, 
 written by Septimus Winner, composer of "Listen to 
 the Mocking Bird," probably the most popular Amer- 
 ican melody, who possessed the art of concocting sobby 
 songs. This was "Give Us Back Our Old Com- 
 mander." It was forever echoing, to the deep annoy- 
 ance of the several luckless generals. Winner also com- 
 posed "Tenting To-Night on the Old Camp Ground, 
 Waiting for the War to Cease," a song that greatly 
 angered Secretary of War Edwin M. Stanton. He 
 thought Winner deserved hanging for writing it. 
 
 Lincoln was highly apprehensive of defeat. To cap- 
 ture "war" Democrats he dropped Hannibal Hamlin, 
 of Maine, as Vice-President, and took on Andrew 
 Johnson of Tennessee. John C. Fremont had been 
 nominated at a Cleveland convention, together with 
 Charles Francis Adams, as an independent candidate. 
 Lincoln removed his Postmaster-General, Montgom- 
 ery Blair to propitiate him, and so secured his with- 
 drawal. He annexed James Gordon Bennett, of the 
 New York Herald by a hint that he would be offered 
 the embassy to France and pulled the offish Horace 
 Greeley into the fold by the intimations that he would 
 
»S L=±3Za te F j£^ 
 
 H* 
 
 THE GREATEST VICTOKY YET! 
 
 MAJOR-GENERAL McCLELLAN PUTS TO FLIGHT GENERAL INTEMPERANCE AND ■ ARMT. 
 
 McCLELLAN AND THE DRINK EVIL 
 
 A vicious attack upon "Little Mac," depicting him as a huge whiskey bottle, yet on 
 the rampage against drinking in the army. From Vanit.n Fair, August 17, 1861 
 
George Brinton McClellan 227 
 
 become Postmaster-General when the Cabinet was re- 
 organized. This brought the two most potential papers 
 in America to his support. The success of Sherman's 
 March to the Sea, offset in a measure Grant's bloody 
 failures that ended in the stalemate at Petersburg. 
 The Lincoln outlook grew brighter toward election 
 day. Yet there can be little doubt that the President 
 was saved by the votes of the soldiers in the field, 
 carefully counted in his interest. The electoral college 
 gave Lincoln 212 votes, McClellan but 21. But, on 
 the popular vo?e the President led the general by but 
 407,342 votes. The totals were respectively 2,216,067 
 and 1,808,725. Kentucky, New Jersey and Delaware 
 were the only States supporting McClellan. Mary- 
 land was dragooned by military under Lew Wallace 
 and in no sense was the contest fair. Defeat would 
 have saved Lincoln's life and shattered his fame. 
 Would McClellan have compromised with the Con- 
 federacy? Probably. 
 
 Thus McClellan's star set. He resigned his commis- 
 sion in the army election day, November 9, 1864. Fol- 
 lowing his defeat he lived much in Dresden, where his 
 son, in time to become Mayor George B. McClellan 
 of New York, was born. Returning home, he was 
 elected Governor of New Jersey as a Democrat, in 
 1877. His term over he again found it more agreeable 
 to live abroad. He died at Maywood, his home on Or- 
 ange Mountain, N. J., in the night following October 
 28, 1885, of an acute heart attack, sitting in his fav- 
 orite arm chair. They buried him at Trenton. 
 
XII 
 HORATIO SEYMOUR 
 
 DISTINGUISHED DEMOCRAT 
 
 NEW YORK has furnished the country with 
 some of its most distinguished Democrats 
 among whom must be listed Horatio Sey- 
 mour, of Utica. He was a small-town product having 
 come into life at Pompey, Onondaga County, May 31, 
 1 8 10. He was admitted to the bar in 1832, and became 
 active in the fervid Jacksonian political school oper- 
 ated in his state by Martin Van Buren. In 1841 he 
 went to the state legislature; in 1842 he was elected 
 mayor of Utica. Continuing his legislative career he 
 became speaker of the House in 1845 on tne S1 de °f 
 William L. Marcy, and against Silas Wright. Van Bu- 
 ren was now a Free-Soiler, but Seymour stuck to the 
 Democracy of the Marcy brand. He was rewarded by 
 being nominated for Governor in 1850 against Wash- 
 ington Hunt. 
 
 Hunt was a Whig in name .but an Abolitionist and 
 anti-renter, the last term being applied to those who 
 supported the people against the exactions of the land 
 companies and of great estates like that handed down 
 by Patroon Van Renssalaer. The New York Herald 
 supported Seymour, who had strong backing in the 
 city, but "up-state" elected Hunt. In 1852 Seymour 
 
 228 
 
Horatio Seymour 229 
 
 tried it again, this time with success. Following the 
 Washingtonian movement Prohibition gained enough 
 strength in the legislature, under the leadership of a 
 senator, Myron H. Clark, who kept a hardware store 
 in Canandaigua, to secure the passage of a law stop- 
 ping the sale of liquor in the state. This Seymour ve- 
 toed. 
 
 In the interim politics became a much mixed affair. 
 The Know-Nothings, an ancient form of the modern 
 Ku Klux Klan were in force, Prohibition was stronger 
 after the veto and the Whigs were divided on slavery, 
 though most of them followed Seward. The party was 
 on its last legs, and out of this muddle in 1854 came 
 the Republicans. Seward and Weed effected a fusion 
 with the Drys and nominated Clark with Henry J. 
 Raymond, editor of the New York Times as Lieuten- 
 ant Governor. The Democrats split on Free-Soil, one 
 branch endorsing the Kansas-Nebraska bill, the other 
 upholding the policies of Franklin Pierce. The last lot 
 renominated Seymour; the Know-Nothings put up 
 Daniel Ullman. Being a secret order like the Klan, no 
 one could correctly figure their number. The biggest 
 estimate credited them with 60,000. They polled 
 122,282 votes. The Free-Soil Democrat Greene C. 
 Bronson had 33,850, Seymour 156,495 and Clark 
 156,804, winning by a plurality of 309. The legislature 
 was again dry and once more passed a Prohibition act. 
 It was signed by Clark and was in effect six months, 
 when the courts declared it unconstitutional. 
 
 Seymour remained pent up in Utica, but took active 
 part in state politics. I have a memory of a tale told 
 by my old friend Lucien Brock Proctor, long secretary 
 
230 Horatio Seymour 
 
 of the New York State Bar Association, concerning a 
 trip to Elmira with the Governor to attend a Demo- 
 cratic State Convention. The party travelled by the 
 Erie and Chemung canals. Seymour had chartered a 
 brand-new canal-boat, fitted it up with cots, a cook and 
 a barrel of rye. A pleasant time was had by all. He 
 related another story of interest. In that era arson was 
 a capital offense. Proctor had for a client a colored boy 
 in Dansville, who was convicted of burning a barn out 
 of spite and sentenced to be hanged. He took the case 
 to Seymour, then Governor, who declined to inter- 
 vene. Taking the doleful tidings to the negro's cell, he 
 broke the news as gently as he could; but concluding, 
 
 "Jim, you must be hanged." 
 
 "My God, Mr. Proctor" cried the boy, "I don't 
 see how I can ever live through it !" 
 
 Proctor hastened back to Albany and told the story. 
 Seymour laughed, "We shall have to fix it so he does," 
 and made it a life sentence. In a few years the law was 
 modified and "Jim" was pardoned. A thorough going 
 Democrat of high principles and a gentleman beside, 
 Seymour stood in shining contrast to Thurlow Weed 
 and his law selling associates. He was not shifty as 
 Seward was accused of being and he kept good com- 
 pany. There were those who hoped he might be nom- 
 inated at the Charleston Convention in i860. When 
 secession broke he was unquestionably for the Union 
 which did not mean the endorsement of the Republi- 
 can party as most of its members came to believe. He 
 felt it was feasible to be loyal without abandoning 
 Jefferson, and that in the heated time, under the great 
 war powers of the President, there was all the more 
 
Horatio Seymour 231 
 
 need of a cool-headed, intelligent opposition. This he 
 strove to supply. 
 
 In 1862 he was nominated and elected governor. 
 His victory came upon the heels of the Emancipation 
 proclamation which had the effect that Weed and 
 Seward feared. Weed was sure the party would be 
 wrecked. He was vindicated to an extent by the elec- 
 tion of results that followed, one of which was the vic- 
 tory of Seymour. It was a severe set back for the ad- 
 ministration but a good thing in itself. Seymour did 
 not believe in the dragonnades of Stanton, the sus- 
 pension of the habeas corpus or the filling of jails with 
 citizens, suspected only of disloyalty. Nor did he be- 
 lieve in the substitute system that allowed the well-to- 
 do to buy themselves out of the ranks. He also be- 
 lieved in conserving the constitutional rights of the 
 states that remained in the Union, something Stanton 
 and Seward had become careless about. 
 
 In his inauguration address Seymour was free to 
 criticize the conduct of the war, though he had spoken 
 on the side of the North during the campaign. Men 
 who chose to be Democrats had a hard time in the 
 community. They were "Copperheads" — venomous 
 snakes to the fervid patriots. Yet the evils Seymour 
 complained of were real, acts of despotism that did not 
 require acceptance as a means of winning the war. If 
 the South had abandoned the Union for Constitutional 
 reasons, there was no reason why the document should 
 have been perverted and ignored in the North, as it 
 was in the fury of ill-feeling and governmental aggran- 
 dizement. As James Ford Rhodes asserts: "The 
 course which he (Seymour) laid out, was in the main 
 
232 Horatio Seymour 
 
 the right one for the opposition, and, while his mes- 
 sage was exasperating, there is little in it that ought 
 to receive condemnation at the judgment bar of his- 
 tory." 
 
 Indeed the cause of the North looked dark. Peace 
 moves were in the air. The North was tired of slaugh- 
 ter and defeat. Critical convocations were held in 
 Ohio, at Springfield, Illinois, Lincoln's home town, 
 and at Albany where Seymour was heard impres- 
 sively. His influence was great and naturally his stand 
 alarmed the Administration, which was saved in the 
 nick of time by the victories at Port Hudson, Vicks- 
 burg and Gettysburg. These checked the "war is a 
 failure" cry, but did not serve to stop the opposition 
 to the draft which broke out in a tenement section of 
 New York on July 13, 1863. The reason lay in alleged 
 inequalities which impressed the poor and gave the 
 fortunate a chance to escape donning uniforms. Riot- 
 ing began on Monday and the mob soon had the city 
 at its mercy. Governor Seymour was at Long Branch 
 for an outing. He hurried to the city and on Tuesday 
 addressed a disorderly crowd in front of the City 
 Hall, around which they gathered in an attempt to de- 
 stroy the Tribune office and lynch Horace Greeley. 
 Endeavoring to oil the troubled water he made an er- 
 ror that plagued him all his life by beginning: "My 
 friends." Then he continued : "I have come down here 
 from the quiet of the country to see what was the dif- 
 ficulty — to learn what all this trouble was concerning 
 the draft. Let me assure you that I am your friend! 
 (Uproarious cheers.) You have been my friends," 
 (Yes, yes, that's it. We are and will be again.) "and 
 
Horatio Seymour 233 
 
 now I assure you fellow citizens that I am here to show 
 you a test of my friendship. (Cheers.) I wish to in- 
 form you that I have sent my adjutant general to 
 Washington to confer with the authorities there, and 
 to have this draft suspended and stopped. (Vocifer- 
 ous cheers.) I now ask you as good citizens, to wait for 
 his return, and I assure you that I will do all that I 
 can to see that there is no inequality and no wrong 
 done anyone. I wish you to take good care of all prop- 
 erty, as good citizens, and see that every person is safe. 
 The safe keeping of property and persons rests with 
 you, and I charge you to disturb neither. It is your 
 duty to maintain the good order of the city, and I 
 know you will do it. I wish you now to separate as 
 good citizens, and sometime assemble again should 
 you wish to do so; I ask you to leave all to me now, 
 and I will see to your rights. Wait till my adjutant gen- 
 eral returns from Washington, and you shall be sat- 
 isfied." 
 
 The good citizens "separated" to form new mobs, 
 destroy more property and effect new outrages. In an- 
 other day the military took over the city and show- 
 ered it with rifle fire. Probably 1,000 people were 
 killed or wounded, mostly rioters. Several millions 
 of dollars worth of property were destroyed: the 
 victims of the mobs were mainly negroes. 
 
 The negro orphan asylum at Fifth Avenue and Fifti- 
 eth Street was burned. Some fifty structures were de- 
 stroyed and many more pillaged. It was a terrible 
 affair in all features and the Governor's course re- 
 dounded greatly to his discredit. The Draft however 
 was stopped, to be resumed and peacefully carried 
 
234 Horatio Seymour 
 
 out with some sensible modifications a few weeks 
 later. Victory seemed nearer to the North and op- 
 position died down for the time being; to recur less 
 violently the next year after Grant's failure in his 
 "all summer" campaign and the impasse at Peter- 
 burg. 
 
 "Copperhead" papers like the New York News and 
 Express sustained the Governor and invited him to 
 call out the militia to stop the illegal drafting. He 
 was sever'ely criticized in other quarters. Richard 
 Grant White in "The New Gospel of Peace" a satire 
 written in Biblical style dubbed him "Seemer," also 
 "Say More" because "he could say more and mean 
 less than any other man" in the country, and "See 
 More" because there was no man "who could see more 
 ways of making trouble for others and getting out 
 of it himself." 
 
 Yet no "war governor" had responded so promptly 
 and fully as Seymour when President Lincoln called 
 for troops to repel Lee's invasion of Pennsylvania. 
 "I will spare no efforts to send you troops at once" 
 he advised Secretary of War Stanton, and he did not. 
 New York played a noble part in the repulse of the 
 Confederates on that decisive field. The wise and pru- 
 dent President in acceding the cessation of the draft 
 recognized Seymour's power and did not doubt his 
 underlying patriotism. He wrote him a personal letter 
 desiring to get "better acquainted," hoping thereby 
 to arrive at "a better understanding" in their mu- 
 tual desire to maintain the "nation's life and integrity." 
 Seymour replied formally, promising a public com- 
 munication of leng.th, in which he would give his views 
 
Horatio Seymour 235 
 
 concerning "the condition of our unhappy country." 
 Before he could frame this C. L. Vallandigham, 
 preacher of peace, was arrested, tried by court martial 
 and deported to the Confederacy. Seymour denounced 
 this as an unwarranted proceeding and never wrote 
 the promised reply. Arbitrary arrests grew in number 
 and Seymour froze up. He was not alone in his in- 
 dignation, so fine a gentleman as Robert C. Winthrop 
 endorsing his view. When McCellan was nominated 
 Seymour presided at the Chicago Convention. He 
 also went on the stump and made his influence felt. 
 The suppression of newspapers had accompanied the 
 arrests. "In Great Britain" asserted Seymour in one 
 of his addresses, "the humblest hut in the Kingdom, 
 though it may be open to the winds and the rains of 
 heaven, is to the occupant a castle impregnable even 
 to the monarch, while in our country the meanest and 
 most unworthy underling of power is licensed to 
 break within the sacred precincts of our homes." 
 
 This was only too true. Fort Lafayette in New 
 York harbor and Fort Warren in that of Boston, were 
 crowded with alleged sympathizers with the South. 
 Men paid off grudges by securing the arrest of neigh- 
 bors, few or none of whom were ever tried. They 
 were simply caged during the conflict or until Lincoln 
 himself could be reached and his sense of justice 
 touched. Seymour was defeated when renominated 
 in 1864. The war ended and he kept himself in quiet 
 repose at Utica where he was greatly esteemed, but 
 from which he was to be once more drafted into the 
 limelight. 
 
 The Democratic National Convention of 1868 was. 
 
236 Horatio Seymour 
 
 held in Tammany Hall, New York, July 4, 1868. It 
 was a notable occasion. For the first time since i860 
 the South was represented, and by Confederate gen- 
 erals, in some number at least, including such figures 
 as Nathan Bedford Forrest of Tennessee, Wade 
 Hampton of South Carolina, and William Preston 
 of Tennessee. Other eminent ex-Confederates were 
 R. Barnwell Rhett (born Smith) who as editor of the 
 Charleston Courier had been a foremost fire-eater, 
 Benjamin H. Hill of Georgia, Zebulon B. Vance, of 
 North Carolina, A. H. Garland, of Arkansas, Randall 
 L. Gibson, and James B. Eustis, of Louisiana, and 
 Thomas S. Bocock, of Virginia, ex-speaker of the Con- 
 federate Congress. 
 
 Northern Democrats of note in attendance were 
 George H. Pendleton of Ohio ("Gentleman George" 
 they called him), Allen G. Thurman, from the same 
 state, William R. Morrison of Illinois, Clement L. 
 Vallandigham, the much talked about peace man from 
 Ohio in the war period, James A. Bayard of Delaware, 
 and Joseph E. McDonald and D. W. Voorhees, of 
 Indiana. 
 
 The South had sent out a call voiced by Wade 
 Hampton, to secure Democratic support in that region 
 which was under reconstruction and a long ways from 
 "solid." He pointed out that hopes of getting back 
 where they belonged lay solely with the Democrats. 
 This was made good use of by the supporters of Grant 
 in the campaign that followed. 
 
 Henry M. Palmer, of Wisconsin called the Con- 
 vention to order. Then Horatio Seymour was made 
 permanent Chairman. James G. Blaine in his Twenty 
 
Photograph by Brown Brothers 
 
 HORATIO SEYMOUR 
 
Horatio Seymour 237 
 
 Years of Congress, says of Seymour, apropos of this 
 occasion: "His admirers looked to him as a political 
 sage, who, if not less partisan than his associates 
 was more prudent and politic in his counsels. No 
 other leader commanded so large a share of the con- 
 fidence and devotion of his party. No other equalled 
 him in the art of giving a velvety touch to its worst 
 and most dangerous blows, or of presenting the work 
 of its adversaries in the most questionable guise. It 
 was his habit to thread the mazes of economic and 
 fiscal discussion, and he was never so eloquent or 
 apparently so contented as when he was painting a 
 vivid picture of the burdens under which he imagined 
 the country to be suffering, or giving a fanciful picture 
 of what might have been if Democratic rule had con- 
 tinued. From the beginning of the war he had illus- 
 trated the highest accomplishments of political ora- 
 tory in bewailing, like the prophetess of old, the com- 
 ing woes which never came. In his address on the 
 present occasion he arraigned the Republican party 
 for imposing oppressive taxes, for inflicting upon the 
 country, a depreciated currency, and imposing a mili- 
 tary despotism." 
 
 These are the tributes of an extremely partisan Re- 
 publican, whose party had quite truly done all the 
 things noted. Moreover, before the convention so set 
 in motion, as a conspicuous candidate was Chief Jus- 
 tice Salmon P. Chase, who had, as Secretary of the 
 Treasury under Lincoln, poured out the flood of Green- 
 backs that "depreciated the currency," and who was 
 later to render a decision that they were not legal 
 tender. Pendleton had brought to the Hall what was 
 
238 Horatio Seymour 
 
 to be called the "Ohio idea," "that all the obligations 
 of the government, not payable by these express terms 
 in coin, ought to be paid in lawful money." That is 
 the money which everybody but the government had 
 to take if they wanted any. Blaine brazenly termed 
 this a "distinct adoption of the Greenback heresy." 
 The soldiers who risked their lives to save the coun- 
 try, and had families to feed, were paid with it what- 
 ever value it might at the moment have. Naturally 
 many people could not see why the government should 
 exact gold for all its obligations, and refuse to accept 
 its own currency. 
 
 It seemed certain that Mr. Pendleton would be 
 nominated with this plank in the platform. Andrew 
 Johnson, who had so narrowly escaped impeachment, 
 was also a candidate and received 65 votes on the 
 first ballot. Pendleton had 105. Others were Judge 
 Sanford E. Church, of New York, 34; Asa Packer, 
 of Pennsylvania, a first class magnate, 24; James E. 
 English, of Indiana, 16, while General Winfield Scott 
 Hancock scored 23- Thomas A. Hendricks of In- 
 diana developed some strength on the third day. So 
 far fate did not point to Seymour, who indeed had re- 
 peatedly declared that he was not a candidate. Pen- 
 dleton's highest vote was 159%. The tide turned to- 
 ward Hancock, who received I44>4. This was on the 
 eighteenth ballot. The convention then adjourned. Un- 
 der ordinary circumstances it would be assumed that 
 Hancock was the country's choice. "But" observes 
 Blaine in malicious comment, "it was not expected. It 
 was indeed against the logic of the situation that a 
 Democratic convention could at that time select a dis- 
 
Horatio Seymour 239 
 
 tinguished Union general, of conservative record and 
 cautious mind, for a Presidential candidate." 
 
 New York was for Chase, to whom Pendleton was 
 firmly opposed, as was reasonable for the father of 
 the "Ohio idea." He therefore executed the clever 
 manoeuvre of throwing his following to Seymour, 
 whose name had not hitherto been mentioned in the 
 balloting. Ohio withdrew Pendleton's name when the 
 convention reconvened, and after one indecisive ballot, 
 in which it had not shared, the Ohio delegation came 
 in shouting for Seymour. He dissented from the chair 
 but New York swung to him. State after state fol- 
 lowed and on the twenty-second roll call he was unan- 
 imously nominated. William Preston, an ex-Confeder- 
 ate Brigadier, named Frank P. Blair, of Missouri, for 
 Vice-President, and Wade Hampton seconded. He was 
 nominated. 
 
 The October elections, though close in some in- 
 stances, were adverse. This was laid to the overweight 
 of Blair, who was considered Southern, because he had 
 visited Richmond on a mission of peace, with Lincoln's 
 consent towards the end of the war. The New York 
 World edited by Manton Marble loudly demanded his 
 retirement. He stuck, however. 
 
 Seymour took the stump in an endeavor to recover 
 lost ground, making some strong appeals and a good 
 impression, "delivering" remarks Blaine "at least one 
 extended speech each day at some central point, and 
 speaking frequently by the way; his journey fastened 
 the attention of the country and amply illustrated his 
 versatile and brilliant intellectual powers. No man was 
 more seductive in speech, or more impressive in se- 
 
240 Horatio Seymour 
 
 date and stately eloquence. With his art of persua- 
 sion he combined rare skill in evading difficult ques- 
 tions while preserving an appearance of candor. His 
 speeches were as elusive and illusive as they were 
 smooth and graceful. * * * He labored to convince 
 the country that if the Democrats elected the President 
 they would still be practically powerless, and that ap- 
 prehension of disturbance and upheaval from their suc- 
 cess was unfounded. He sought also to draw the pub- 
 lic thought away from this subject and give it a new 
 direction by dwelling on the cost of government, the 
 oppression of taxes, the losses from the disordered 
 currency and the various evils that had followed the 
 various trials and perils through which the country had 
 passed." Despite his skillful presentations the war- 
 days were too near, the soldier vote too heavy, and the 
 "reconstructed" states too republican at the moment. 
 Of the eight but two, Georgia and Louisiana chose 
 Seymour electors. These were assailed as due to fraud 
 and violence, but finally counted. Grant had a popular 
 majority of 309,588 and 214 electors. Seymour had 
 but eighty. He carried New York and New Jersey, 
 nevertheless, by leads of 60,000 and 10,000 respec- 
 tively. Grant's lead in Indiana was but 961. California 
 was republican by vote of 514. Oregon went for Sey- 
 mour. The Republican vote in Ohio was cut down 
 heavily and the Democrats captured Philadelphia by 
 about 200 votes. Virginia, Texas and Mississippi not 
 being "reconstructed" were excluded from the vot- 
 ing. Had Seymour been able to attain the vote of a 
 "solid South" he would have been elected. 
 
 Blaine thought Seymour "unpleasantly associated 
 
Horatio Seymour 241 
 
 with the draft" in the public mind. It did not affect 
 him in New York or in New Jersey. The real cause of 
 his defeat was the situation in the South. Blaine truly 
 observes that the result "was not comforting to the 
 thoughtful men who interpreted its true significance 
 and comprehended the possibilities to which it 
 pointed." He continues: "The Republican victory of 
 1868 led to the incorporation of impartial suffrage in 
 the Reconstruction laws." 
 
 The more accurate Senator William M. Stewart 
 would have inserted "scare" in explanation, instead of 
 "victory." He was the father of the Fifteenth Amend- 
 ment and frankly gave as his reason for securing the 
 franchise for the negro as insuring the party his vote. 
 Claiming to represent the wealth and intelligence of 
 the country it only saved its power by enfranchising 
 the blacks — a fitting return probably for their cen- 
 turies of unrequited toil, but hardly a class represent- 
 ing the ideals of the intelligent, or capable of being 
 given any equality whatever, save at the ballot box, 
 which the South still denies them, despite the Consti- 
 tution. The basis for the "scare" lay deeper even than 
 the vote for Seymour. The number of Democrats in 
 the 38th Congress had been increased from forty-four 
 to seventy-five, leaving the Republicans with but 
 twenty majority. 
 
 For the rest of his life Mr. Seymour was content 
 to play the part of a sage. He died at Utica, February 
 12, 1886. 
 
XIII 
 HORACE GREELEY 
 
 "old white hat" 
 
 IN passing from polemist to politician Horace 
 Greeley took a sorry step. His pen had made the 
 New York Tribune the most powerful paper in 
 the land. His political errors well-nigh wrecked it and 
 killed himself. Matchless as an editor he proved the 
 poorest sort of a hand in politics. With a knowledge of 
 affairs and public men that was unequalled he was po- 
 tent with his pen, but when he came personally into 
 the game he failed. Yet he thought he knew politics. 
 Opposed to the extension of slavery he was in a class 
 by himself. Believer in protection he fell in readily 
 with the Whigs and behind Henry Clay. In the con- 
 struction of the Republican party his share was that of 
 a compelling voice. The practical management was 
 in other hands. He formed an effective alliance in 
 New York with Thurlow Weed, owner of the Albany 
 Journal, and William H. Seward, of Auburn, Gover- 
 nor and United States Senator. Weed was a shrewd 
 manipulator of men, a lobbyist who took rewards for 
 his services and made himself generally useful. Seward 
 took the lead in the North against the political power 
 of slavery. The three got on well until Greeley per- 
 ceived that he was being left out on all the rewards 
 
 242 
 
Horace Greeley 243 
 
 and honors. His soul sighed for recognition, for an 
 invitation to office, which it may be doubted if he would 
 have accepted or long held. But the bitterness of dis- 
 appointment in being overlooked seized him and he 
 dissolved the partnership in an extraordinary letter 
 written to Seward November n, 1854, following a 
 state election that had landed Henry J. Raymond, ed- 
 itor of the rival New York Times, in the Lieutenant 
 Governor's chair, where he was placed by the choice 
 of the other partners. Greeley coveted recognition. If 
 Raymond had been defeated he would probably have 
 kept on with the concern, but his triumph was a last 
 straw in what Greeley regarded as a series of humili- 
 ations at the hands of his associates. It would appear 
 that neither of them was aware of his inside longings, 
 justly believing that his prestige as editor of the chief 
 party paper was glory enough — which it was. 
 
 The connection between the three began with the 
 Whig expansion that followed the panic of 1837. Gree- 
 ley was struggling with his weekly New Yorker, and 
 when Weed offered him a chance to edit a Whig sheet 
 out of Albany he accepted at $1,000 for a year's edit- 
 ing. Victories followed, but Greeley got nothing be- 
 yond his petty wage. Others of the faithful were well 
 rewarded with office and opportunity. In 1840 he ed- 
 ited the Log Cabin for Weed and Seward. Here again 
 he was unrewarded in victory, but acquired somehow 
 the means to start the Tribune in 1841. From that 
 time on he needed help from no one, and could readily 
 have repudiated his partners, but instead served them 
 faithfully and without return until the fateful date 
 in 1854. 
 
244 Horace Greeley 
 
 His career had been typically American, hampered 
 though he was by being a youthful prodigy and with- 
 out business instincts. Success came to him without the 
 usual devices to allure it. Born at Amherst, N. H., 
 February 3, 181 1, son of a very poor farmer, Zaccheus 
 Greeley, he underwent the usual experiences of pov- 
 erty on a hard soil. Horace was a little lad, noted for 
 precocity in learning and interest in reading. The fam- 
 ily shuffled to Vermont, where Zaccheus "lumbered" 
 and earned money enough to get on after a fashion. 
 Then he felt a call to Western Pennsylvania and 
 moved on, leaving Horace behind as an apprentice in 
 the office of the Northern Spectator at East Poultney, 
 Vermont, where he soon became useful and rather a 
 character in the small town. He was the best debater 
 in the local debating society and was much liked lo- 
 cally. The paper went out of business in 1830 and 
 Horace followed the family to the new habitat in 
 Wayne, Pennsylvania. Chopping wood as a business 
 was not to his taste and he took to the road as a 
 printer. The profession was then peripatetic, and he 
 landed at last in New York, August 17, 1831. John T. 
 West, printer at 85 Chatham Street, gave him a job, 
 setting up a Testament in Pearl, the smallest type in 
 use at which by close application he was able to earn 
 $1 per day. Better openings followed. He saved some 
 money and with Francis V. Story, on a capital of $200, 
 started a print shop of his own. This was soon busy. A 
 weekly paper the New Yorker was the next venture. 
 It achieved a good circulation among subscribers who 
 were pretty slow pay, but kept him going. The cam- 
 paign sheets noted were additions to his income 
 
r 
 
 Photograph by Gramstorff Bros., Inc. 
 
 HORACE GREELEY 
 
 ,„■„ 
 
Horace Greeley 245 
 
 reputation. The New York Tribune was the outcome. 
 
 The new daily gave his great brain the employment 
 it deserved and the changing era in politics together 
 with the expansion of the nation west opened a wide 
 field for the weekly edition, which in circulation and 
 influence outfooted all rivals. It made Greeley known 
 wherever the settlers ranged. Supporting Henry Clay, 
 it was a Whig organ, but its keys were manipulated 
 solely by its editor. Thus it was the paper played a re- 
 markable part in political affairs. His support of Fou- 
 rierism and Communism caused much criticism, but 
 failed to check his headway. When these dropped out 
 of sight national issues gave him leverage with which 
 he lifted much. 
 
 When the notice of dissolution was served on Weed 
 and Seward both were inclined to take it as a piece of 
 passing petulance and tried together to smooth the 
 ruffled feathers. In this they were not successful. 
 Thereafter Greeley went his own way leaving the pair 
 to operate together. "I trust," he said in the dissolu- 
 tion notice, referring to Seward, "I shall not be found 
 in opposition to you." This hope was not fulfilled. The 
 two men never met but once thereafter, and that in 
 church during 1859. The relationship was completely 
 severed. He assumed the editorial leadership of the op- 
 ponents of the extension of slavery to the Kansas- 
 Nebraska territory, was strong for the Douglas doc- 
 trine of Popular Sovereignty and made Free-Soil a 
 slogan, North, East and West, wherein the circula- 
 tion of the weekly Tribune rose to 250,000 copies per 
 issue. 
 
 Despite his complaint to Seward, Greeley had been 
 
246 Horace Greeley 
 
 recognized a bit. In 1848 he was elected to fill a va- 
 cancy in the New York City congressional delegation 
 caused by the unseating of David S. Jackson. The term 
 was short but it gave ample occasion for demonstrat- 
 ing that the place was not one to be filled by an ag- 
 gressive editor. Fellow members held him to account 
 for all that appeared to their disadvantage in the Trib- 
 une, and considered it unfair that he should back up 
 his own efforts on the floor with the power of the pa- 
 per. He made a crusade against the abuse of congres- 
 sional charges for mileage that caused a pretty stir 
 and made him many enemies. Being a printer he con- 
 sidered $7.50 a column for printing the debates in the 
 Union and National Intelligencer, excessive and forced 
 a cut. Naturally their conductors failed to appreciate 
 the attention. He tried to stop flogging in the navy 
 and failed; to cut out bonuses to congressional em- 
 ployes and failed. Final unpopularity was achieved by a 
 measure to limit the sale of public lands to actual set- 
 tlers. This also failed, but became the germ of the 
 Homestead Act in time. 
 
 The ninety day sentence served he came back to his 
 desk, convinced despite rebuffs, that on the whole Con- 
 gress was pretty honest, though no place for him. He 
 did not try to go back. 
 
 In the account of Seward's career, Greeley's part in 
 his defeat for the Presidential nomination has been de- 
 tailed. He was offish toward the successful Lincoln — 
 if anything he had been more friendly to Douglas 
 than to his rival, whom he had met during his term 
 in Congress without being especially impressed. He 
 believed however that he should have been offered the 
 
Horace Greeley 247 
 
 Postmaster-Generalship which went to Montgomery 
 Blair, and was disgruntled accordingly. During all the 
 trying war-time he was a thorn in Lincoln's side with 
 carping criticism and continuous urgings that caused 
 some serious mistakes. While the Tribune's cry 'Tor- 
 ward to Richmond" was not of his fathering, it led 
 to the disaster at Bull Run for which he received full 
 credit and an attack of brain fever. 
 
 In 1 861, Seward having become Secretary of State, 
 Greeley was a candidate for the position of U. S. 
 Senator for New York. William M. Evarts vied with 
 him in the race. The outlook was promising until his 
 old partner Thurlow Weed took charge of the wires 
 and defeated both, giving the prize to Ira Harris. 
 When the term of Preston King expired in 1863, Gree- 
 ley again essayed the Senatorship. Again the wiley 
 Weed intervened and secured the seat for E. D. Mor- 
 gan. He served in the constitutional convention of 
 1867 an d ran for Congress in 1868 from the so-called 
 Cherry Hill district of New York adjacent to the 
 Tribune office, only to be badly beaten. In 1869 the 
 Republicans ran him for State Comptroller. William 
 F. Allen, of Oswego, Democrat, defeated him. It was 
 a Democratic year in New York, the party capturing 
 all state offices. In 1870 he once more ran for Congress 
 in New York to be defeated by Samuel S. Cox ("Sun- 
 set") a newcomer from Ohio. 
 
 He supported Lincoln for a second term with re- 
 luctance, rather in response to a hint that he would 
 now get the Postmaster-Generalship. Lincoln was killed 
 by John Wilkes Booth before he made any effort to 
 make good. Greeley considered the promise of no 
 
248 Horace Greeley 
 
 value. His anger was enhanced by the proffer of the 
 French mission to James Gordon Bennett who had 
 shifted also on a hint that something might come his 
 way. He, however, declined the distinction. 
 
 The death of Lincoln threw the party into confu- 
 sion. The term filled out by Andrew Johnson took on 
 the aspect of that of William Henry Harrison as com- 
 pleted by John Tyler. Johnson was a Democrat and 
 while he hated and wished to hang the Southern lead- 
 ers, had nothing in harmony with the hard-boiled 
 specimens who now assumed party control. Zachariah 
 Chandler, Thaddeus Stevens, Benjamin F. Butler and 
 Benjamin F. Wade, were hardly the sort to get on 
 well with the President and did not. The attempt at 
 impeachment and all the incidental turmoil remain 
 blots upon history. 
 
 When it came time to select Johnson's successor 
 the party had run out of Presidential timber, with 
 which it had never been any too well supplied. Seward 
 had retired, broken under the blows of a would-be- 
 assassin. Charles Sumner, a commanding figure, did 
 not fit the crowd in control. The South was still a scare- 
 crow and the leaders, filled with fear that it might 
 again leap into the saddle, gave the negro suffrage. 
 In casting about for a man who could win and save 
 the country once more, the powers picked on Lieuten- 
 ant General U. S. Grant. He accepted and Greeley 
 supported him in the canvass, making some speeches, 
 but having within a great mistrust and perhaps some 
 disgust at having been over-looked himself. If he ever 
 had a chance it was thoroughly killed by his action 
 in signing the bail-bond of Jefferson Davis, in May 
 
THK CAI'S-PAW-ANY THINO TO OET CHESTNUT 
 
 GREELEY IN THE CLUTCH OF TAMMANY 
 
 A characteristic cartoon by Nast, which appeared in Harper's Weekly, July 22, 1876. 
 The Tiger bears the likeness of Tweed 
 
Horace Greeley 249 
 
 1867. Nineteen other men joined him in so doing, but 
 upon Greeley alone fell the popular wrath. The weekly 
 Tribune lost 200,000 of its 250,000 readers. 
 
 Grant's administration, despite his own honesty and 
 sagacity of character speedily became a scandal. Ros- 
 coe Conkling, Senator from New York took command 
 of the ship and the "boys" helped themselves gener- 
 ously. Charles Sumner was chairman of the Senate 
 Committee on Foreign Affairs and was soon in col- 
 lision out of which Sumner lost his chairmanship and 
 his friend, John Lothrop Motley the English mission. 
 Old army friends dipped their fingers deep in the but- 
 ter and made trouble. The influence of Benjamin F. 
 Butler replaced that of Sumner and Massachusetts. 
 
 By the time Grant's renomination was due the party 
 of Lincoln was badly split. Editors of the weight of 
 Greeley, Samuel Bowles, of the Springfield Republican, 
 William Cullen Bryant, of the New York Evening 
 Post, Joseph Medill, of the Chicago Tribune, and 
 Murat Halstead, of the Cincinnati Commercial turned 
 against the President. In Missouri, independent Re- 
 publicans scored a great victory, electing B. Gratz 
 Brown, Governor. The large German element led by 
 Carl Schurz, Dr. Emil Pretorious and their young 
 associate Joseph Pulitzer, all of the Westliche Post, 
 was in the main responsible. The effect of this victory 
 was wide-spread. An independent Republican party 
 in the nation was organized and met in convention at 
 Cincinnati, on May 1, responding to a call sent out 
 from Missouri dated January 24th. Though Greeley 
 had been plainly enough Anti-Grant in the Tribune 
 the Republicans, like Seward and Weed before them, 
 
250 Horace Greeley 
 
 did not take his hostility seriously and none deemed 
 he would leave the party and follow the new schism. 
 From his acquaintance with Ohio, Whitelaw Reid, the 
 Tribune's managing editor, was sent to Cincinnati to 
 watch and operate as might be needed. He took with 
 him the intent to nominate Greeley and thereby make 
 himself head of the Tribune. 
 
 The convention was called to order by Stanley Mat- 
 thews of Ohio. Carl Schurz was made permanent chair- 
 man and Joseph Pulitzer, secretary. Charles Francis 
 Adams of Massachusetts, Lincoln's minister to Eng- 
 land, and son of President John Quincy Adams, was 
 the leading candidate. Bowles and Bryant were Free- 
 Traders and Greeley was a protectionist. To pave 
 the way for him Reid kept the tariff out of the plat- 
 form to the deep annoyance of his opponents. The 
 platform as built scathingly arraigned the administra- 
 tion of Grant. 
 
 When it came to balloting Adams led with 203 
 votes, Greeley had 147, Lyman Trumbull 100, B. 
 Gratz Brown 95, David Davis 92^, and Andrew 
 G. Curtin 62. Trumbull and Curtin were Democrats, 
 either of whom would have been highly acceptable 
 to the country. Bowles withdrew, Greeley's vote rose 
 to 239, and Curtin dropping out gave Adams 233, 
 on the second try. Adams led on the third count 279 
 to Greeley's 258. On the fourth Greeley lost 7 and 
 Adams held his own. On the fifth the 258 held to 
 Greeley while the Adams total reached 309. The situ- 
 ation was smashed up by a row between the Trumbull 
 and Davis Illinois followings. Greeley received 332 
 votes on the sixth, Adams 324. In the next turn Gree- 
 
Horace Greeley 251 
 
 ley was nominated by a vote of 482 to 187 for Adams. 
 The delegates refused to make the choice unanimous. 
 B. Gratz Brown was named for Vice-President. 
 
 Greeley accepted on May 29th, concluding: "If 
 elected I shall be the President not of a party but of 
 the whole people. I accept your nomination in the con- 
 fident trust that the masses of our people, North and 
 South are eager to clasp hands across the bloody chasm 
 which has so long divided them, forgetting that they 
 have been enemies in the joyous consciousness that 
 they are, and henceforth must remain, brethren." 
 
 June 5th, the Republicans re-nominated Grant at 
 Philadelphia. Vice-President Schuyler Colfax had de- 
 veloped a taint of Credit Mobilier and was dropped for 
 Henry Wilson, of Massachusetts. July 9th, the de- 
 spairing Democrats met at Baltimore. John T. Hoff- 
 man, Governor of New York presided. The conven- 
 tion speedily swallowed Greeley, platform and all by a 
 vote of 686 out of 720 present. Also B. Gratz Brown. 
 If the Democrats endorsed Greeley the men who had 
 done the most for independent Republicanism did not, 
 Schurz, Bryant, Jacob D. Cox, Oswald Ottendorfer 
 and David A. Wells, all tariff reformers, met in New 
 York and nominated William S. Groesbuck, of Ohio 
 and Frederick Law Olmstead of New York. This ticket 
 was never heard from again, but the bolt told hard 
 against Greeley, who now entered upon what was the 
 most melancholy political campaign in American his- 
 tory. He retired from the editorship of the Tribune 
 in which he now had but a tenth interest, and turned it 
 over to Reid. Grant sat serenely in the White House 
 and left the campaign to his henchmen, Greeley kept 
 
252 Horace Greeley 
 
 open house at his home in Chappaqua, New York, 
 travelled far and spoke often. He had journeyed South 
 the year before and met with a cordial welcome. His 
 white hat became a gonfalon. Warm receptions al- 
 most everywhere cheered his hopes. But things were 
 going wrong. Old followers were unforgiving because 
 of the Democratic endorsement. The Tweed scandals 
 in New York offset those of the Credit Mobilier in 
 Washington. Nast pinned him to Tweed in Harper's 
 Weekly and the dart penetrated deeply. Henry Ward 
 Beecher, then very influential, would have none of 
 him. People were largely of the opinion that he lacked 
 administrative qualities which was true enough in the 
 meticulous sense; though he had been a great money 
 earner, he could not "make" it as moderns do. 
 
 A fortnight before election Greeley was called from 
 the field by the illness of his wife. She died October 
 30, 1872. Election fell on November 5th. The result 
 was a terrible defeat. Of the total vote, 3,597,132 
 went to Grant, 2,834,125 to Greeley, whose total was 
 but 130,000 more than that of Horatio Seymour on 
 the straight Democratic ticket four years before. 
 Georgia, Maryland, Missouri, Tennessee, Texas and 
 Louisiana alone chose Greeley electors. When the elec- 
 toral college met Greeley was dead. His votes were 
 divided, forty-two going to Thomas A. Hendricks of 
 Indiana, eighteen to B. Gratz Brown, two for Jenkins 
 and one for David Davis. Grant had two hundred and 
 eighty-six. 
 
 November 7th, the Tribune published a card from 
 Mr. Greeley announcing his purpose to return to the 
 editorship. It was not destined to come true. During 
 
Horace Greeley 253 
 
 his campaigning the control of the paper had changed 
 hands. William Orton, President of the Western Union 
 Telegraph Company had secured the stock of Samuel 
 Sinclair, Greeley's publisher and chief associate, along 
 with other options, in a plan to make Schuyler Colfax 
 editor. Credit Mobilier spoiled that, but some inkling 
 of what was happening reached Greeley. Worn, dis- 
 tracted and ignored in the office, he appeared there for 
 a few days, got in one leader analyzing the election 
 and came down on November 14th with an attack of 
 brain fever from which he never rallied. Rumors flew 
 about that he had become insane and was to be confined 
 in Bloomingdale Asylum. Instead he had been taken 
 to the private sanitarium of Dr. George S. Choate, at 
 Pleasantville, near his Chappaqua home. Here he died 
 November 29, 1872. He had not reached his sixty- 
 second birthday, but few men had lived more within 
 that limit of years. 
 
 They gave the broken body a great funeral. It was 
 held in the Universalist Church of the Divine Paternity 
 which he attended in New York. The pastor, Dr. Ed- 
 win H. Chapin, conducted the service, assisted by 
 Henry Ward Beecher and Dr. Thomas Armitage. 
 Grant, Colfax and Wilson came from Washington to 
 attend. Salmon P. Chase, Chief Justice of the United 
 States Supreme Court, Lyman Trumbull, Thurlow 
 Weed and William M. Evarts were among the pall- 
 bearers. Burial was in Greenwood where the printers 
 of New York raised a monument over his grave. They 
 also erected a statue at what is now Greeley Square 
 at Thirty-third Street, Broadway and Sixth Avenue in 
 New York. Another stands at City Hall Park. 
 
254 Horace Greeley 
 
 With all his failure to reach the summit, and his 
 many stumblings on the steps, Greeley remains an out- 
 standing factor in the creation of the nation to-day. 
 His stand against the extension of slavery brought the 
 common people to support the cause. Yet he did not 
 wish war and would have gone far toward a compro- 
 mise with the South and would have permitted its 
 peaceable departure from the Union. He fostered 
 protection if that be a virtue, though it has climbed 
 miles higher than he ever dreamed desirable. Though 
 he often told men to "go to hell" he did not believe in 
 it and was a staunch Universalist. Partisan in purpose, 
 he found it hard to be a good party man. Much mental 
 agony fell to his lot. Few men suffered more and 
 gained less in life. His enormous energies went to the 
 benefit of a great cause. He could and did outwork 
 any three of his associates. With pen and on the plat- 
 form he made himself heard afar. Nature has yet 
 to duplicate him. 
 
Photograph by Underwood and Underwood 
 
 SAMUEL J. TILDEN 
 
XIV 
 SAMUEL J. TILDEN 
 
 "counted out" 
 
 CONSIDERED by James G. Blaine, "in some 
 respects the most striking figure in the Demo- 
 cratic party since Andrew Jackson" Samuel J. 
 Tilden enjoys the unique distinction of being the only 
 man elected on the face of the returns who failed to 
 become President. His followers believed he was de- 
 liberately counted out. Instead, his managers and his 
 shrewd self were beguiled into accepting a scheme for 
 settling a dispute that ended in their discomfiture. 
 Had they followed the rule of the Constitution and 
 thrown the election of 1876 into Congress, he would 
 have been seated and all have gone well. That he did 
 not — well let the story unroll itself. 
 
 Samuel Jones Tilden was born at New Lebanon, 
 New York, February 9, 18 14. His family was well- 
 to-do from the manufacture of tinctures and extracts. 
 Young Tilden took to the law, finishing his studies in 
 New York under John W. Edmonds. Here he met, at 
 a boarding house at 8th Street and Fifth Avenue kept 
 by his aunt, John Bigelow, who became his Boswell. 
 This was in 1837 or thereabouts. Young as he was Mr. 
 Tilden had an eye for politics of the practical sort. 
 Coming from the vicinity of Kinderhook, N. Y., he 
 
 255 
 
256 Samuel J. Tilden 
 
 followed Martin Van Buren, taking readily to his 
 sly ways, and even improving upon them. "When Mr. 
 Tilden talked politics with you" Bigelow records "it 
 was his habit in those days to get as near to the ear 
 of his interlocutor as possible, and to lower his voice 
 as if to make sure he was edifying no one but the per- 
 son he was addressing." This habit he continued 
 through life and it earned for him the sobriquet of 
 "Whispering Sammy." It was accentuated in after 
 years by a partial paralysis of the throat that made 
 loud speaking impossible. This also affected the muscles 
 of his arms and gave him an aspect of feebleness that 
 did not, however, affect his mind. In 1846 at the urging 
 of Silas Wright he was elected to the state legislature. 
 He attended the National Convention that nominated 
 Lewis Cass for President as a delegate. There were 
 two sets present representing William L. Marcy and 
 Wright and Van Buren. The latter bolted and called 
 a state convention, Tilden writing the appeal which 
 nominated Van Buren for President on a Free-Soil 
 platform, with Charles Francis Adams, as a running 
 mate. As previously noted it pulled enough votes to 
 beat Cass. Through Tilden's initiative and a word 
 from Charles O'Connor, Bigelow acquired an interest 
 in the New York Evening Post that made him comfort- 
 able. Though favoring Free-Soil Tilden refused to 
 follow Fremont and remained a Democrat. When 
 secession loomed the Post was pro-abolition and sup- 
 ported Lincoln. Tilden foresaw the dreadful conse- 
 quences and felt them keenly. "I would not," he told 
 Bigelow "have the responsibility of William Cullen 
 Bryant and John Bigelow for all the wealth in the 
 
Samuel J. Tilden 257 
 
 Sub-Treasury. If you have your way civil war will 
 divide the country, and you will see blood running like 
 water in the streets of this city." 
 
 It was a true prophecy and reflects in advance some 
 reasons for his course in 1877. He amplified his views 
 in an open letter to William Kent: "The Union and its 
 dangers," published in the Evening Post. 
 
 Mr. Tilden stood by the North when the crash 
 came. He was in the confidence of several members 
 of Lincoln's cabinet and often consulted. Against his 
 wishes, he was sent as a delegate to the Chicago 
 Convention that nominated McClellan and earnestly 
 sought to head off the policy there adopted. He op- 
 posed a declaration in favor of an armistice and in- 
 sisted that an adjustment between the North and South 
 on any other basis than the restoration of the Union 
 Was out of the question. Failing to carry his views he 
 urged McClellan to disregard the peace at any price 
 advocacy in his acceptance. Succeeding Dean Richmond 
 as Chairman of the Democratic State Committee he 
 made his wishes felt in the party, to in time assume 
 its nation-wide control. 
 
 Following the defeat of Greeley and the re-elec- 
 tion of Grant the administration went from bad to 
 worse. The Credit Mobilier scandal burst into full 
 flower, blackening the Republican Congress. Grant's 
 Secretary of War was caught grafting. His navy de- 
 partment was rotten with corruption and a whisky ring 
 grew rich securing immunity by bribes, one of which 
 went to the President's confidential secretary. No more 
 unsavory political mess was ever brewed. Justice was 
 blind to the favored scamps. There was one Demo- 
 
258 Samuel J. Tilden 
 
 cratic blot — that of the Tweed ring in New York. 
 "What are you going to do about it?" was Tweed's 
 arrogant inquiry. Then came forth Samuel Jones Til- 
 den, and showed him the way into prison. 
 
 Tilden, with Charles O'Conor, only for a rival, was 
 considered the ablest attorney in New York. His forte 
 was not in court causes but in taking the tangles out of 
 large affairs. There were plenty of them to deal with. 
 The over-building of railroads and blue-sky financing 
 had brought on a terrible panic in 1873, to salvage the 
 results of which Mr. Tilden gave profitable attention. 
 He became rich. Small, silent and canny, he built up 
 a degree of confidence in his clients that made him 
 powerful. When he sought to give the public some ben- 
 efit from his skill it was greatly appreciated. In 1874 
 the Democrats nominated him for Governor and in 
 a campaign that gave Congress to the party for the 
 first time since 1 856 he was elected, defeating John A. 
 Dix. 
 
 The astute governor soon got busy. He found a 
 close Republican ring enriching itself at the expense 
 of the Canal system, then one of good profit to the 
 state, under the guidance of James J. Belden, of Syra- 
 cuse. To this the Governor directed his attention and 
 did some thorough housecleaning. He cut the tax rate 
 in half, routed the rings and in two short years had 
 the slovenly state in order, its business honestly admin- 
 istered and its rule respected. 
 
 A connoisseur and collector of fine wines, he wrote 
 Bigelow from Albany in January, 1875 : "As to night 
 drinking, I adopted the notion last year that to have a 
 good sleep I must go to bed unexcited. No matter how; 
 

 
 1 
 
 FOR TITF. SOFT B l(! BABY 
 tlic wrani] U.tllu dirt it." 
 
 *>, duiiag. Sec: thu Angela art 
 
 
 
 
 TILDEN AS A DISPENSER OF "PAP" 
 Nast cartoon which appeared in Harper's Weekly, August 2G, 1876 
 
Samuel J. Tilden 259 
 
 weary, I never drink at night or in the evening, unless 
 at a dinner or other party, even a glass of wine. This 
 notion grew out of several experiments; when I found 
 myself wakeful to help myself with a nightcap, which 
 had years ago worked well, but on these late occasions 
 worked badly. It may be that the brain has so suffered 
 that it will not allow any stimulant as a preventive of 
 sleep; but I do have excellent sleep without it." 
 
 About this time his enemies were circulating reports 
 that he had become a sot! In fact he drank but little, 
 precious drops of the choicest vintages, taken spar- 
 ingly. He liked Johannesburg from Metternich's fa- 
 mous Schloss. Once General James William Husted, of 
 Peekskill, a famous Westchester Republican, called 
 on some business at Mr. Tilden's New York residence. 
 He set out a bottle of his best. Taking a small glass- 
 ful, he sniffed it frequently and touched his lips oc- 
 casionally to the liquid. Husted gulped his glassful 
 and reached for more. 
 
 "The next time that man comes here," said Tilden 
 to the butler after Husted's departure, u give him 
 beer." 
 
 Governor Tilden had been steadily steering his steps 
 toward the Presidency. Blaine, who seems to have 
 greatly admired his skill as a politician, says of this: 
 "Though more than three-score, he had been a con- 
 spicuous party chief only three or four years. He had 
 moved forward to unchallenged personal supremacy, 
 with a vigor and rapidity which in the political life of 
 the United States has seldom been equalled. His sud- 
 den rise was not the result of accidental circumstances 
 of which he was the fortunate beneficiary. The sceptre 
 
260 Samuel J. Tilden 
 
 of power in the Democratic party did not drop into 
 his hands; he seized it and wielded it at his own will. 
 He moulded the conditions which suited his designs, 
 and when the hour was right he assumed command as 
 of divine right." 
 
 This was rather piling it on. With all his shrewdness, 
 Mr. Tilden was not responsible for the election of 
 the Democratic Congress. The people were resenting 
 the panic of 1873. Some of the good results had al- 
 ready been spoiled by the election of Samuel J. Ran- 
 dall, Speaker, after the death of Michael C. Kerr. He 
 was a Pennsylvania protectionist who saw that no 
 harm came to the tariff. 
 
 Tilden's war record was unassailable and as to slav- 
 ery he had favored the Wilmot proviso and followed 
 Van Buren on his free-soil venture. That he returned 
 to Democracy seems to strike Blaine as a reproach. 
 In reality Mr. Tilden was more of a patriot than poli- 
 tician. He knew that to have a responsible party gov- 
 ernment there must be responsible parties. It was his 
 wish to restore the Democracy to that high position 
 and he did. No man was better fitted by intellect for 
 the task. He was all that, purposeful rather than a 
 manipulator. u His earlier political papers" Blaine ad- 
 mits, "are dignified and elevated in tone beyond his 
 years and show a strong intellect and careful reflec- 
 tion." Blaine does not rank him with Jefferson, Madi- 
 son, Jackson and Van Buren, but credits him with 
 "political capacity of a very high order." He cannot 
 concede him patriotism or any other than political pur- 
 poses in fulfillment of personal ambition which was his 
 own ruling passion. But he finds Tilden, "Adroit, in- 
 
Samuel J. Tilden 261 
 
 genuous, and wary, skillful to plan and strong to exe- 
 cute, cautious in judgment and vigorous in action, tac- 
 iturn and mysterious as a rule and yet singularly open 
 and frank on occasions, resting on old traditions yet 
 leading in new pathways, surprising in the force of 
 his blows yet leaving a sense of reserve power, Mr. 
 Tilden unquestionably ranks among the greatest mas- 
 ters of political management our day has seen." 
 
 Let us follow further and see how this "manage- 
 ment" turned out. The Democratic convention was 
 held at St. Louis, on June 28, 1876. The Republican 
 ticket of Hayes and Wheeler was already in the field. 
 There was no lack of prominent Democrats in the at- 
 tendance. Gen. John A. McClernand, Sherman's right 
 hand man in the March to the Sea presided. Others 
 were Samuel J. Randall, Henry Watterson, Leon Ab- 
 bett, of New Jersey, Daniel W. Voorhees, of Indi- 
 ana, and William F. Vilas, of Wisconsin. John Kelly, 
 who had taken over Tammany Hall, after Tweed, 
 was there. He was an honest man but had no love for 
 Tilden, whose interest was looked out for by his Lieu- 
 tenant Governor, William Dorsheimer and Francis 
 'Kerman, of Utica. Colonel Watterson called the con- 
 vention to order and Manton Marble, editor of the 
 New York World had written the platform. It was so 
 polished that even Mr. Tilden slipped off its shining 
 surface when he wrote his acceptance. It accused the 
 tariff of robbery, deprecated fixing a date for the re- 
 sumption of specie payments, which had been done by 
 the Republicans for January 1, 1879. Tariff for rev- 
 enue only was the main slogan. The names of Thomas 
 A. Hendricks, of Indiana, John Parker, of New Jer- 
 
262 Samuel J. Tilden 
 
 sey, Thomas F. Bayard, of Delaware, William Allen, 
 of Ohio, Winfield Scott Hancock of the regular army 
 and Samuel J. Tilden were put in nomination, the 
 last by Francis Kernan. So certain were his arrange- 
 ments that he received 404^ votes on the first ballot, 
 Hendricks 1403^, Hancock 75, Allen 34, Bayard 33, 
 with 37 scattering. His vote was so near to the need- 
 ful two-thirds, that before the second roll call ceased, 
 his nomination was made unanimous. Thomas A. 
 Hendricks was given the tail of the ticket. He repre- 
 sented the one state beside New York, if the South 
 were solid, needed to elect. 
 
 Financial discussion filled most of Mr. Tilden's 
 over-long letter of acceptance, and he was vague on 
 civil service which Mr. Hayes, his opponent, special- 
 ized. The boys had been out a good while and it was 
 better to let them get in before plugging up the holes. 
 Neither candidate took the stump. Hayes kept on be- 
 ing Governor of Ohio and Mr. Tilden operated from 
 his office. Senator Zachariah Chandler of Michigan, a 
 rich lumberman, ran the Republican campaign as Na- 
 tional Chairman. A good deal was said about "Uncle 
 Sammy's Bar'l," but it was small beside that of Chand- 
 ler, which was a self-filler from the tariff trough. His 
 risk lay in the South where in numbers of states the 
 black vote outnumbered the white and was more solid 
 than that of the reconstructed rebels. October elections 
 were not decisive, though Indiana went Democratic. 
 
 Despite Tilden's record for loyalty to the Union and 
 his free-soil attitude, the last month of the campaign 
 was given to a waving of the bloody shirt. Blaine, who 
 had never smelled powder attuned the attack on the 
 
Samuel J. Tilden 263 
 
 ex-brigadiers. "The South again in the Saddle" was 
 the frightened cry. Robert G. Ingersoll who had been 
 captured by Forrest without a scratch on his handsome 
 person was a frantic waver of the ensanguined gar- 
 ment. President Grant sent orders to the bayonet pick- 
 eted South to see that peace prevailed at the polls. 
 It did. 
 
 "Tilden Triumphs" was the World's headline on 
 November 8th. That was the popular opinion, but 
 John C. Reid, managing editor of the New York 
 Times, thought otherwise : that Florida and Louisiana 
 were in doubt and urged Chandler to claim the elec- 
 tion by 185 electoral votes to 184. This he did and the 
 ever handy Associated Press sent out this later-morn- 
 ing bulletin: "Rutherford B. Hayes has received 185 
 electoral votes and is elected." Here Tilden fell down. 
 Abram S. Hewitt, of New York was chairman of the 
 National Committee. He was an able, irritable man 
 who spent much time quarreling with himself. Tilden 
 had really run the campaign. His following wanted 
 word from him. It did not come. Instead he wrote a 
 long, learned pamphlet, discussing the technique of the 
 dispute while carpet bag returning boards sent in re- 
 turns from Florida, South Carolina, and Louisiana in 
 favor of Hayes, when on the face of the returns they 
 had voted for Tilden. Rightfully the case should have 
 gone to the House for settlement, but hair-splitting be- 
 gan in which Mr. Tilden joined. The state of party 
 feeling was so high that both Grant and Tilden feared 
 an outbreak. The former filled the capital with troops 
 lest 100,000 Democrats summoned by Col. Henry 
 Watterson might come and take it, while Mr. Tilden 
 
264 Samuel J. Tilden 
 
 dreading strife now, as he had done when he reproved 
 Bryant and Bigelow, submitted to an electoral com- 
 mission selected by Congress as a way out of violence. 
 The Democrats were in control on a joint ballot and 
 Tilden's majority on the popular vote was 250,935. 
 In addition one Hayes elector from Oregon was in- 
 eligible from holding a post office. 
 
 The commission was composed of three Democrats 
 and two Republicans from the House, selected by 
 party caucuses, and three Republicans and two Demo- 
 crats from the Senate, to which were added four Su- 
 preme Court justices who were to select a fifth, mak- 
 ing a body of 15. Nathan Clifford, Samuel F. Miller, 
 Stephen J. Field and William Strong were the judges 
 chosen. These selected Joseph P. Bradley as the fif- 
 teenth man. The senatorial members were George F. 
 Edmunds of Vermont, Oliver P. Morton, of Indiana 
 and F. T. Frelinghuysen of New Jersey, Republicans, 
 and Thomas F. Bayard of Delaware and Allen G. 
 Thurman of Ohio, Democrats. The House members 
 were Henry B. Payne, of Ohio, Eppa Hunton, of 
 Pennsylvania, Josiah G. Abbott, of Massachusetts, 
 Democrats, James A. Garfield of Ohio and George F. 
 Hoar of Massachusetts, Republicans. Tilden's counsel 
 were Jeremiah S. Black, Charles O'Conor, John A. 
 Campbell, Montgomery Blair, Lyman Trumbull, M. 
 H. Carpenter, Ashbel Green, George Hoadley, R. T. 
 Merrick, William C. Whitney, and A. P. Morse. 
 Hayes was represented by William M. Evarts, Stan- 
 ley Matthews, G. W. Stoughton and Samuel Shella- 
 berger. The Democrats had the most talent, but the 
 Republicans the most votes. Bradley voted invariably 
 
TILDEN MAKES TAMMANY FACE BOTH WAYS 
 
 Another campaign cartoon from the versatile pen of Nast, in the pages of 
 Harper's Weekly, July 22, 1876 
 
Samuel J. Tilden 265 
 
 in with the Republicans, "Eight to Seven" became a 
 by-word for injustice. Each'time Bradley was recorded 
 a howl of disgust went up from the Democratic press 
 and populace. He was unswerved to the end. His vote 
 counted all the disputed states for Hayes. The Sen- 
 ate confirmed the result, the House dissented, but the 
 law had clearly provided that the Commission's de- 
 cision could not be set aside unless both united and so 
 voted — which they did not do. 
 
 Mr. Tilden's view of the outcome was well-ex- 
 pressed in his letter of June 16, 1880, declining the 
 renomination which would have been his had he cared 
 to accept. He said referring to 1876: 
 
 In the canvass which ensued the Democratic party repre- 
 sented reform in the Administration of the Federal Govern- 
 ment and a restoration of our complex political system to the 
 pure ideals of its founders. Upon these issues the people of the 
 United States, by a majority of more than a quarter of a mil- 
 lion, chose a majority of the electors to cast their votes for the 
 Democratic candidate for President and Vice-President. It is 
 my right and privilege here to say that I was nominated and 
 elected to the Presidency absolutely free from any engagement 
 in respect to the exercise of its powers or the disposal of its 
 patronage. Through the whole period of my relation to the 
 Presidency I did everything in my power to elevate and noth- 
 ing to lower moral standards in the competition of parties. By 
 what nefarious means the basis of a false count was laid in the 
 several states I need not relate. These are now matters of 
 history, about which whatever diversity of opinion may have 
 existed in either of the great parties of the country at the time 
 of their consummation has since practically disappeared. I re- 
 fused to ransom from the returning boards of Southern States 
 the documentary evidence by the suppression of which and by 
 
266 Samuel J. Tilden 
 
 the substitution of fraudulent and forged papers, a pretext was 
 made for the perpetration of a false count. The constitutional 
 duty of the two houses to count the electoral vote as cast, and 
 give effect to the will of the people as expressed by their suf- 
 frages was never fulfilled. An Electoral Commission for the 
 existence of which I have no responsibility was formed, and to 
 it the two houses of Congress abdicated their duty to make the 
 count, by a law enacting that the count of the commission 
 should stand as lawful unless overruled by the concurrent 
 action of the two houses. Its false count was not overruled, 
 owing to the complicity of the Senate with the Republican 
 majority of the Commission. 
 
 Hayes became President on the Chandler figures 
 185 to 184. He was denounced as a fraud throughout 
 all his admirable administration. The New York Sun 
 printed his picture with the word stamped on his brow. 
 For all the clamor the result probably turned out bet- 
 ter for the country at large than if Mr. Tilden had 
 forced his way in. 
 
 Mr. Tilden did not get the credit he should have re- 
 ceived for his pacific policy. The public did not wel- 
 come Hayes, the politicians abjured Tilden for not 
 making a fight. In 1878 he suffered by the publication 
 of a series of cipher dispatches involving his nephew 
 W. T. Pelton and Mr. Tilden's agents who were 
 watching the count in the South. B. F. Butler had got 
 hold of them, and while running for Governor of 
 Massachusetts gave them to the New York Tribune. 
 The dispatches showed that the returning boards of 
 the three states were for sale. Mr. Tilden did not buy 
 them. Who did? The revelations spoiled a congres- 
 sional inquiry into Republican election practices in the 
 
Samuel J. Tilden 267 
 
 South and greatly vexed Mr. Tilden, who insisted that 
 he knew nothing of all that was going on. As there 
 were about 30,000 dispatches from many men and 
 many points someone had certainly been zealous. 
 Blaine holds that Smith M. Weed and Pelton had 
 planned to bribe but were too slow. 
 
 For the rest of his life Mr. Tilden kept in retire- 
 ment. In 1884 there was another strident call for his 
 nomination. He again wrote declining the honor and 
 the choice fell on Grover Cleveland. 
 
 Three younger men, Conrad N. Jordan, Charles S. 
 Fairchild and Edward L. Parris were in his confidence 
 and all were worthy of it. The two first saw service in 
 the Treasury under President Cleveland and Mr. 
 Parris was an able assistant district attorney in New 
 York and also a tax commissioner of the city. One day 
 shortly after Mr. Tilden had bought his great man- 
 sion on the bank of the Hudson, near Yonkers, Mr. 
 Jordan found him supervising the serving of a canvas- 
 back duck in E. B. Orcutt's restaurant on Broadway 
 near Fulton Street. 
 
 "Mr. Tilden," he said, "I have an offer for Gray- 
 stone that will give you a profit of $100,000." 
 
 "How annoying," whispered the sage. "I've just set 
 out fifty peach trees." 
 
 There was no sale. In addition to Graystone he built 
 himself a fine mansion on Gramercy Park South. It is 
 now the home of the National Arts Club. The struc- 
 ture was of red-sandstone and the pillars supporting 
 the stairway to the street had the queer conceit of 
 climbing mice carved upon them. 
 
 Tilden died at Graystone, August 21, 1886. He had 
 
268 Samuel J. Tilden 
 
 never married. To his munificence New York owes its 
 magnificent public library. 
 
 Bigelow has summed up Mr. Tilden's political 
 course and share in affairs succinctly as follows : 
 
 "He was champion of the Union and of President 
 Jackson against the Nullifiers and Mr. Calhoun. He 
 denounced the American system of Mr. Clay as un- 
 constitutional, inequitable, and sectional. He vindi- 
 cated the removal of the government deposits from 
 the United States Bank, by President Jackson, and ex- 
 ploded the sophisticated doctrine of its lawyers that 
 the Treasury is not an executive department. He vindi- 
 cated President Van Buren from the charge made by 
 William Leggett of unbecoming subserviency to the 
 slave holding states in his inaugural address. He was 
 among the first to insist upon free banking under gen- 
 eral laws, thus opening the business equally to all, and 
 abolishing the monopoly which was a nearly universal 
 superstition. He exposed the perils of banking upon 
 public funds. He advocated the divorce of bank and 
 state, and the establishment of a sub-treasury. He as- 
 serted the supervisory control of the legislature over 
 corporations of its own creation. He exposed the 
 enormity of Webster's scheme to pledge the public 
 lands for the payment of the debts of the states. He 
 drew and vindicated in a profoundly learned and able 
 report the act which put an end to the discontents of 
 the New York Anti-Renters. He wrote the protest of 
 the Democracy of New York against making the na- 
 tionalizing of slavery a test of party fealty. He was 
 the first, we believe, to assign statesmanlike reasons 
 for opposing coercive temperance legislation. He 
 
Samuel J. Tilden 269 
 
 pointed out, as no one had done before the dangers 
 of sectionalizing the government. * * * He led the 
 storming party which drove Tweed and his predatory 
 associates to prison or into exile. He purified the 
 judiciary of the city and state of New York by procur- 
 ing the adoption of measures which resulted in the re- 
 moval of one judge by impeachment and of two judges 
 by resignation. He induced the Democratic Conven- 
 tion in 1874 to declare, in no uncertain tone, for a 
 sound currency. * * * It was at his instance that the 
 Democratic party of New York * * * pronounced 
 against Third Term Presidents." 
 
 Surely a record upon which any statesman might be 
 proud to have lived! 
 
XV 
 GENERAL WINFIELD S. HANCOCK 
 
 "the superb" 
 
 THOUGH his record as a soldier shines in the 
 military annals of the country, General Win- 
 field Scott Hancock, "The Superb/' is re- 
 called politically by a single phrase: "The tariff is a lo- 
 cal issue." Much laughed at in 1880, when he ran as 
 the Democratic candidate for President against James 
 A. Garfield, for this utterance, its truth has since been 
 vindicated over and over again. Believing they had 
 won in 1876, the Democrats endeavored to put their 
 best foot forward in the next campaign. The Repub- 
 licans dared not re-nominate President Hayes who, 
 besides the taint in his title had given great offense to 
 the spoilsmen in his own party who had grown affluent 
 in the golden days of graft under Grant. The "sol- 
 dier" element was very prominent and needed cater- 
 ing to. The Grand Army of the Republic had come into 
 being and was more than powerful. Grant's followers 
 were eager to have him in again and mustered an "Old 
 Guard" with 306 votes at the Republican convention 
 at Chicago on June 2, 1880, under the lead of Roscoe 
 Conkling. They were unable to control and the nomi- 
 nation went to Garfield, an Ohio man, member of Con- 
 gress, with a creditable war record. He had been 
 
 270 
 
General Winfield S. Hancock 271 
 
 tarnished in the Credit-Mobilier scandal, but was a 
 devout churchman which balanced the account. 
 
 Despite a theory that all Democrats were Skeddad- 
 lers and Copperheads, a good many served in the 
 army and some of the better generals were of the 
 faith. Indeed Grant himself had voted for Buchanan 
 — the only ballot he ever cast for President. Southern 
 brigadiers had come back to Congress in droves and 
 made a good deal of noise, which militated against the 
 party. The Ku Klux Klan in the South had served to 
 continue the belief that the country still needed to be 
 saved at Republican hands. It became necessary to find 
 a Northern Democrat who had borne a distinguished 
 part in the war. The convention meeting at Cincinnati 
 on June 22, 1880, found him in Winfield Scott Han- 
 cock. 
 
 Hailing from Pennsylvania, where he was born on 
 a farm in Montgomery County, February 14, 1824, 
 the General was at the moment stationed at Gover- 
 nor's Island, New York, in command of the Military 
 Department of the East. Twenty names were before 
 the convention including Thomas F. Bayard, of Dela- 
 ware, Stephen J. Field, of California, Thomas A. 
 Hendricks, of Indiana, William R. Morrison, of Illi- 
 nois, J. E. McDonald, of Indiana, and Samuel J. Ran- 
 dall, of Pennsylvania. It was truly an open contest. 
 The first ballot was taken on June 23rd. During the 
 night sentiment centered on the General, and when bal- 
 loting was resumed on the 24th, he won on the second 
 call, with a total of 369 votes. 
 
 His story was typically American. Benjamin F. 
 Hancock and Elizabeth Hexworth, were farm folks, 
 
272 General Winfield S. Hancock 
 
 until Winfield and his twin brother Hilary were four 
 years old, when the family removed to Norristown, 
 where the father took up school teaching while he 
 studied law and the mother worked as a milliner. Ad- 
 mitted to the bar at Norristown, the elder Hancock 
 opened an office adjoining his wife's millinery shop. 
 Thus the couple worked their way along. Hilary fol- 
 lowed his father's profession and John the third son 
 became a Colonel of Volunteers during the rebellion. 
 Winfield grew up into a tall, thin lad, who went to 
 school in Norristown and "learned" his lessons as the 
 saying goes. When sixteen, Congressman Joseph 
 Formance gave him a cadetship at West Point, where 
 he fell into what was to prove good company. Here 
 were Ulysses S. Grant, George B. McClellan, William 
 B. Franklin, Ambrose E. Burnside, John F. Reynolds, 
 J. L. Reno, E. O. C. Ord, Thomas Jonathan Jackson 
 ("Stonewall") James Longstreet, A. J. Pleasanton, 
 W. F. ("Baldy") Smith, A. P. and D. H. Hill, not to 
 mention many others who were to be heard from. He 
 graduated June 30, 1844, eighteenth in his class and 
 was assigned, as a second lieutenant to the Sixth In- 
 fantry. The regiment was located in the Indian Terri- 
 tory. He was first stationed at Fort Towson on the 
 Red River, then transferred to Fort Washita. In- 
 dians were troublesome but his post life was without 
 incident and so continued until the outbreak of the 
 Mexican War, when he was sent to Newport Bar- 
 racks, Kentucky, on recruiting service, soon to be or- 
 dered with his regiment to join Major General Win- 
 field Scott in Mexico. The fighting was always against 
 heavy odds. Hancock had his baptism in blood and fire 
 

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 WINFIELD SCOTT HANCOCK 
 
General Winfield S. Hancock 273 
 
 at the entrance to the causeway at Churubusco, that 
 guarded the road to Mexico City. His company under 
 Captain Hoffman, led the advance. Losses were heavy 
 but the victory was complete. He next took part in the 
 storming of Molino del Rey. Chapultepec was taken 
 without him. He was ill in his tent. His conduct at 
 Churubusco, brought him a brevet as first lieutenant 
 and he led the company at Molino del Rey. The Penn- 
 sylvania legislature thanked him among others for gal- 
 lant conduct. 
 
 The war over he did duty at Jefferson Barracks, St. 
 Louis, becoming regimental quartermaster. January 
 24, 1850, he married Miss Almira Russell, of St. 
 Louis. Shifted to Florida he did duty for a time at St. 
 Augustine, then went to Ft. Leavenworth, where the 
 Mormon troubles of 1857 found him and he joined 
 Albert Sidney Johnston for the March across the plains 
 to Salt Lake. It was attended with much hardship. 
 Brigham Young came to terms and there was no fight- 
 ing. By this time Hancock was a captain. 
 
 Ordered to the Pacific after the Mormon troubles 
 cooled, he marched his company from Ft. Bridger, 
 Utah, to Benecia, California. They were three months 
 making the journey. Made chief quartermaster he was 
 located at Los Angeles and was there when the civil 
 conflict broke out in 1861. Considerable secession sen- 
 timent was active in Los Angeles. Against this the 
 Captain set his influence and at the same time asked 
 Governor Andrew G. Curtin, of Pennsylvania, for a 
 volunteer command. There was no response. Accord- 
 ingly he applied for active service to the War Depart- 
 ment and was ordered East. On his arrival in Washing- 
 
274 General Winfield S. Hancock 
 
 ton he was assigned as Quartermaster to the staff of 
 General Robert Anderson, of Ft. Sumter, who had 
 been given the task of holding Kentucky. Before he 
 could reach the post, McClellan, who had been ap- 
 pointed commander-in-chief, caused him to be commis- 
 sioned a Brigadier General of Volunteers. He was soon 
 on the way to the busiest kind of active service. His 
 commission bore the date of September 23, 1861, and 
 his first duty was in the defense of Washington. From 
 the capital, he was transferred to McClellan's army 
 and plunged into the campaign on the Peninsula. His 
 brigade was composed of the Fifth Wisconsin, the 
 Sixth Maine, and Forty-ninth Pennsylvania and the 
 Forty-third New York regiments. Their first action 
 was against the retreating confederates at Williams- 
 burg. His brigade led the van against the valorous 
 troops of Jubal A. Early and James Longstreet whom 
 he drove from the field. "Hancock was Superb" com- 
 mented McClellan in his report to President Lincoln. 
 His reward was a brevet major in the regular army. 
 He led the hard fighting to the Rappahannock when 
 McClellan turned back. His next honor became that 
 of a colonel in the regulars. 
 
 The Maryland campaign was now in order. It cul- 
 minated in the victory at Antietam. Here again Han- 
 cock distinguished himself. Major General Israel B. 
 Richardson was mortally wounded and Hancock was 
 given his division. "In front of Hancock's lines" wrote 
 Albert D. Richardson, war correspondent of the New 
 York Tribune, after Antietam, "a flag of truce was 
 raised. Hancock erect and soldierly, with smooth face 
 and light eyes and brown hair, the finest looking gen- 
 
General Winfield S. Hancock 275 
 
 eral in our service — accompanied by (Thomas Francis) 
 Meagher, rode forward into a corn-field and met the 
 young fire-eating brigadier of the Rebels, Roger A. 
 Pryor. Pryor insisted that he had seen a white flag on 
 our front, and asked if we desired permission to re- 
 move our dead and wounded. Hancock indignantly 
 denied that we had asked for a truce, as we claimed the 
 ground, stating that throughout the whole day we had 
 been removing and ministering to both Union and 
 Rebel wounded. He suggested a cessation of sharp- 
 shooting until this work was completed. Pryor declined 
 this, and in ten minutes the firing resumed." 
 
 The removal of McClellan and his replacement by 
 Ambrose E. Burnside brought on the disaster at Fred- 
 ericksburg on December 13, 1862. Here Hancock re- 
 ceived a flesh wound in the abdomen and his uniform 
 was seared with bullets. His appointment as Major- 
 General followed. Burnside dropped, Hancock fol- 
 lowed "Fighting Joe" Hooker to defeat at Chancel- 
 lorsville. Four weeks later he was given command of 
 the Second Corps and held it throughout the war. 
 
 The audacious advance of Robert E. Lee into Penn- 
 sylvania now came to test the strength of the North. 
 In the gathering of forces to meet it Hancock held the 
 rear-guard. His corps was massed at Gettysburg on 
 July 1, 1863. The battle was on. John F. Reynolds, 
 heading the advance had been killed. The early advan- 
 tages were with the invaders. Meade at once pushed 
 Hancock to the fore. "For God's sake send up Han- 
 cock" he signalled. "Everything is going at odds and 
 we need a controlling spirit." Hancock came up speed- 
 ily and soon matters were well in hand. He superseded 
 
276 General Winfield S. Hancock 
 
 O. O. Howard and Daniel E. Sickles, his seniors, who 
 made no protest, so great was the need of the hour. 
 The second day was a draw, but the line, augmented 
 by Hancock, was unbroken. Sickles lost his leg and 
 his Third Corps came under Hancock's control. 
 
 On the third day befell the great test. Hancock, 
 bands playing, banners flying, rode the length of the 
 line under fire from the enemy. His courage cheered 
 the men and moved them to resist the great assault 
 that impended in the charge led by George Pickett. 
 The story need not be retold. When the Confederates 
 recoiled they left a field covered with dead and 
 wounded, five thousand prisoners and thirty stand 
 of colors behind. The Southern soldiers had made a 
 majestic attempt, but in vain. High tide was then 
 reached. Thereafter it receded. Hancock was not un- 
 scathed. He was stricken in his saddle, just as the re- 
 treat began. The wound was severe, a tearing slash 
 through the thigh. He was taken to Norristown and 
 kept from service by the disability until December 27, 
 1863. ^ being winter he was assigned to recruiting 
 duty, with headquarters at Harrisburg in his native 
 state. He travelled about, being received everywhere 
 with great attention. New York and Boston vied in 
 doing him honor. 
 
 In March, 1864, ne rejoined his corps. It had been 
 augmented to a force of fifty thousand men — a great 
 army in itself. May 4th began the attempt to "fight 
 it out on this line if it takes all summer." The next day 
 Hancock fought in the second battle of Chancellors- 
 ville. Lee, much outnumbered did dreadful damage. 
 The Wilderness followed with worse results. Spottsyl- 
 
General Winfield S. Hancock 277 
 
 vania was next in order. Here Hancock held another 
 "bloody angle" destined to be deeper dyed than that 
 at Gettysburg. Five desperate charges were repelled. 
 When the fight was over, Grant was not victor, but 
 Lee had met with losses he could not repair. Cold 
 Harbor ensued with the most horrible slaughter of 
 the war. Then Grant sat himself down for months 
 before Petersburg. 
 
 Hancock's wound reopened and he was compelled 
 to take a short leave. June 27, 1864, found him once 
 more at the front. He witnessed the faulty mine ex- 
 plosion and its disastrous results. President Lincoln 
 sent him his commission as Brigadier General of the 
 regulars. Some casual conflicts kept him busy until 
 November 26th when he was ordered to Washing- 
 ton to organize a corps of volunteers. In February 
 1865, he went to the Valley of Virginia, with head- 
 quarters at Winchester, and having under his com- 
 mand the departments of West Virginia, Pennsylvania 
 and Washington, with the Army of the Shenandoah, 
 embracing almost 100,000 men. Before it could get 
 busy the collapse of the Confederacy came at Ap- 
 pomattox, April 9, 1865. The assassination of Mr. 
 Lincoln brought him to Washington as a safeguard 
 against a further rising. The District of Columbia was 
 put under his rule. It became his duty to issue the order 
 which hanged the surviving conspirators. He greatly 
 regretted the fate of Mrs. Mary E. Surratt and posted 
 couriers to carry a reprieve had President Andrew 
 Johnson granted it, which he did not. There is little 
 doubt now of the poor woman's innocence. 
 
 The General was assigned to the Department of 
 
278 General Winfield S. Hancock 
 
 the Missouri, August 10, 1866, where he did some 
 Indian fighting and was then given charge of the Fifth 
 Military District, compromising Louisiana and Texas, 
 under the Congressional act which was the beginning 
 of the series that disturbed the "reconstruction" of 
 the South. There were five of these districts, each 
 under a major-general possessing plenary powers. In 
 this instance he replaced Philip H. Sheridan who had 
 not been a success as an administrator. Known to be a 
 Democrat and to have broad views the General was 
 favorably received in his district where Sheridan had 
 played the despot. He reached his post on November 
 29, 1867, and at once proceeded to make his position 
 clear by issuing General Order No. 40 that caused a 
 stir among the extremists in Congress but warmed his 
 welcome. In it he laid down principles that had they 
 been everywhere in effect would have solved the sorry 
 situation. He proposed to preserve the liberty of the 
 press, the right of habeas corpus, trial by jury, freedom 
 of speech and the rights of persons and property. The 
 courts were restored to their functions and local gov- 
 ernment set in motion. Judge Jeremiah S. Black of 
 Pennsylvania called it an "admirable order" and as 
 "the first, most distinct and most emphatic recognition 
 which the principles of American liberty have received 
 at the hands of any high officer in a southern com- 
 mand. It has the very ring of the revolutionary metal. 
 Washington never said a thing in better taste or better 
 time." 
 
 Called upon to establish a military court to try an 
 offender by the general in command in Texas he con- 
 signed the case to the state tribunal. He revoked Sheri- 
 
General Winfield S. Hancock 279 
 
 dan's orders subordinating the courts and prohibited 
 military interference with elections. Civil causes were 
 sent for adjustment where they belonged. Regulations 
 governing the selection of juries were abolished. School 
 property was restored to the parishes to do as they 
 liked with it. He refused to follow the crooked wishes 
 of the carpet-bag governors and returned the regis- 
 tration of voters to the proper authorities. 
 
 In correspondence with Governor E. M. Pease, of 
 Texas, he declined to exercise arbitrary power, finding 
 no need therefor. Popular as all this made him in his 
 district, it sat ill in Washington where the radical Re- 
 publicans sought his removal. It was first planned to 
 oust him by reducing the number of major-generals 
 and lowering his grade to that of a brigadier. This 
 was rejected as dangerous. They then operated through 
 Grant, who was commander-in-chief and slated to be 
 nominated for the presidency. He curtailed Hancock's 
 powers in so many ways that he asked to be relieved 
 in February 27, 1868. It was granted. He left his 
 district amid universal respect, with an enhanced repu- 
 tation as a wise and competent administrator. 
 
 When the Democratic National Convention met in 
 Tammany Hall, July 4, 1868, General Samuel J. 
 Anderson of Portland, Maine, placed Hancock in 
 nomination. His vote rose to 144 y 2 but on the twenty- 
 second ballot the nomination went to Horatio Sey- 
 mour. He served in the Department of Dakota, and 
 was back in that of the Atlantic in 1876, when the 
 Democratic convention again heard his name. Heister 
 Clymer, of Pennsylvania, nominated him. He received 
 75 votes on the first ballot. On the second the nomina- 
 
280 General Winfield S. Hancock 
 
 tion went to Samuel J. Tilden, as already recorded. 
 
 In the Convention of 1880 Daniel Dougherty of 
 Philadelphia, who was indeed a "silver-tongued" ora- 
 tor as he was well named, nominated Hancock. James 
 E. English, of Indiana, was named for his running 
 mate. During the campaign the General remained at 
 his headquarters on Governor's Island, New York 
 harbor. He was no longer lean, but had filled out into 
 the dimensions of General Winf- eld Scott, his name- 
 sake. 
 
 Numbers of the states had elections in advance of 
 the national date in November. Maine was the first of 
 these balloting in September for governor. The Green- 
 back party which had become strong in the state, fused 
 with the Democrats. The result was the election of 
 General Harris M. Plaisted as governor. The Re- 
 publicans had fought a great fight, with their best 
 speakers on the stump and lost. Protection seemed in 
 peril from the man who believed it to be a local ques- 
 tion and it looked, too, as if the South was coming 
 back. Manufacturers were mercilessly assessed and 
 the bloody shirt was violently waved against the test 
 in November. The two items, plus the greatest cam- 
 paign fund were unloosed, proved too much for the 
 Democracy to overcome. Garfield won, yet his lead 
 on the popular vote was but 7,018. In the electoral 
 college Garfield had 214 votes to 155 for Hancock. 
 The republican office holders were "saved" again and 
 the tariff remained untrimmed. 
 
 There was deep Democratic disappointment over 
 his defeat. The party had put up a notable campaign 
 and kept the Republicans on the defensive. The South 
 
General Winfield S. Hancock 281 
 
 came back "solid" for the first time since reconstruc- 
 tion. Ten million votes were cast, the largest number 
 in the history of Presidential conflicts. New Jersey was 
 the only Northern state carried by the Democracy. 
 Nevada went for Hancock who also captured five 
 electors in California. 
 
 For the rest of his life the General's figure was un- 
 important. He remained in charge of the Department 
 of the Atlantic with headquarters at Governor's Island, 
 where he died February 9, 1886. He was buried at 
 Norristown. 
 
XVI 
 JAMES G. BLAINE 
 
 "the plumed knight" 
 
 NONE of the aspirants for the Presidency who 
 failed to arrive felt so deeply his disappoint- 
 ment as James G. Blaine of Maine, most 
 partisan of all the Republican candidates. He was not 
 horn in the Pine Tree State, but was a native of Penn- 
 sylvania, born at West Brownsville, an obscure hamlet, 
 January 31, 1830. He taught school in Kentucky for a 
 couple of seasons, then brought up in Maine, to take 
 a hand in the production of the Kennebec Daily Jour- 
 nal, printed at Augusta, a state paper, kept fat on 
 public printing, then and now. In 1862 he was elected 
 to Congress, continuing to serve until 1876. From 
 1868 to 1874 he was speaker. Then the Democrats 
 captured the House and elected Michael C. Kerr in 
 his stead. As speaker and member he made himself 
 conspicious as a party leader, tilting continously with 
 the growing phalanx of "Rebel Brigadiers" who came 
 to Congress from the South and making a great name 
 for himself as a party protagonist. He became next to 
 Roscoe Conkling, Senator from New York, the most 
 conspicuous Republican in the country, with a popu- 
 larity much beyond that of Conkling, whom he once 
 contemptuously termed a Turkey Cock. The Senator 
 
 282 
 
Photograph by Underwood and Underwood 
 
 JAMES G. BLAINE 
 
James G. Blaine 283 
 
 strutted in speech and mien and the thrust went home. 
 Cartoonists took it up and thereafter the haughty 
 Roscoe figured as a gigantic gobbler to his deep dis- 
 gust. He aimed at the Presidency and the popular 
 Blaine got in his way. There was mortal enmity be- 
 tween them that would have brought on a duel fifty 
 years earlier. Blaine could be extremely irritating as 
 the former Confederates found out. 
 
 The Democrats in control of Congress sought his 
 destruction and came near to achieving it. Blaine was 
 a money maker and in the course of accumulating cash 
 engaged to sell a block of securities of the Little Rock 
 and Fort Smith Railroad, an enterprise which he had 
 aided by saving its land grant from cancellation by 
 some good legislative advice when speaker during his 
 first term in 1869. After this the promoters made 
 him "a most liberal proposition" for handling bonds 
 to the amount of $125,000. A bonus of $125,000 in 
 common stock and $125,000 in preferred went with 
 the bonds. So did $125,000 more in land-grant certifi- 
 cates. Blaine kept the latter and received besides a 
 further $125,000 of land grant bonds and $32,500 in 
 first mortgage bonds as a "commission" for marketing 
 the $125,000. It looks like a pretty generous reward 
 for a plain financial transaction. He made some other 
 sales to constituents and was rewarded with $15,150 
 more on a $43,150 transaction. Seventeen Maine men 
 took over the several amounts. The stock proved 
 worthless and the bonds went into default. Naturally 
 the customers kicked. Being Speaker of the House 
 and seeking further honors, Blaine bestirred himself 
 to repay the losses and did so, emptying his pockets 
 
284 James G. Blaine 
 
 to do it. Later the Atlantic and Pacific Union Rail- 
 road bought up the bonds, paying something more than 
 market value for them. He had taken back the bonds 
 from his friends, so was lifted out of his stress by this 
 purchase and on the whole came out a little ahead. 
 This was looked upon as a round-about way of paying 
 for favors from the Speaker by the railroads. He was 
 charged with packing committees and doing various 
 friendly acts in return. 
 
 When he became a conspicuous candidate for Presi- 
 dent in 1876, these facts were whispered about and 
 finally developed into public charges. He met them 
 openly and if he did not clear himself he confounded 
 his accusers. May 2, 1876, on the eve of the Repub- 
 lican National Convention the House instructed the 
 Judiciary Committee to undertake an investigation. 
 This was purely a partisan move to kill off a popular 
 candidate. The committee got hold of one James Mul- 
 ligan, who had kept books for Warren Fisher Jr., of 
 Boston with whom Blaine operated in the bond matter, 
 who gave evidence that part of the transaction which 
 Thomas A. Scott had declared was his, had been 
 Blaine's in fact. To back up the truth of this he casu- 
 ally remarked that he had some letters from Blaine 
 which the latter thought had been returned. This 
 startled the defendant who secured an adjournment of 
 the hearing at this point and besought Mulligan in 
 private to give him the letters. He showed great dis- 
 tress, asking the favor in the interests of his family 
 as "if the Committee were to get hold of those letters 
 it would ruin him forever." Mulligan said he would 
 not volunteer to produce them nor would he give them 
 
James G. Blaine 285 
 
 to the press. At this Blaine, who had read them over, 
 asked to see them again, and then pocketed the bunch 
 as his own, a correct view as the copyright law now 
 stands. When the committee called upon him to pro- 
 duce them he refused to do so, under advice of his 
 counsel, Matt H. Carpenter, Republican, and J. S. 
 Black, Democrat, as having no relevancy to the pur- 
 poses of the inquiry. The date of the Republican Na- 
 tional Convention, June 14, 1876, was close at hand. 
 He contrived to secure by arrangement a cablegram 
 from one Josiah Caldwell, in London, confirming 
 Scott, and then rose to a question of privilege and read 
 the "Mulligan" letters himself before the House, the 
 galleries being packed with applauding friends. With 
 dramatic declamation he invited the confidence of 
 44,000,000 of his countrymen. Proctor Knott, Chair- 
 man of the Judiciary Committee had withheld the 
 Caldwell cable, believing it to be framed. This was a 
 mistake which Blaine capitalized in denunciation of 
 what he called concealment of his vindication. The 
 audacity of the whole performance dazed the Demo- 
 crats and left Blaine triumphant if not innocent. He 
 had read as much of the letters as he cared to, chang- 
 ing their sequence, and editing as he went on to suit 
 his purposes. Rhodes sets him down as guilty. He had 
 outgeneralled his foes, however, by his impudence and 
 left them helpless to proceed further. This was on 
 June 5th. The committee resumed its sessions, but 
 made no headway, June 10th it again demanded the 
 production of the letters. Again Blaine refused and 
 they continued, then and thereafter, in his possession. 
 On the following Sunday Blaine was stricken in church 
 
286 James G. Blaine 
 
 with what appeared to be a slight attack of apoplexy. 
 It was called a sunstroke. He lay ill for days. The com- 
 mittee met no more and never reported. Blaine does 
 not mention either the investigation or the illness in 
 his Twenty Years of Congress. 
 
 When the Convention opened at Cincinnati on June 
 14th, his was the most prominent name before it. The 
 delegates had been elected previous to the inquiry and 
 were not influenced by it. The arrangements for his 
 nomination were carried out, Colonel Robert G. Inger- 
 soll "infidel," but the most eloquent orator of the day, 
 presented his name in a speech that remains memor- 
 able. John M. Harlan had nominated Benjamin H. 
 Bristow, of Kentucky, when Colonel Ingersoll arose 
 and commanded attention. As an enthusiastic Chicago 
 reporter wrote of his fellow-Illinoisan: "Ingersoll had 
 won his audience before he had spoken a word." The 
 audience yes, the delegates, no, as it turned out. Clever 
 indeed was his peroration and mightily moving. Re- 
 gardless of Mulligan he summed up the popular re- 
 quirements of a candidate by the people. 
 
 They demand [he shouted] a man whose political repu- 
 tation is spotless as a star; but they do not demand that this 
 candidate shall have a certificate of moral character signed 
 by a Confederate Congress. The man, who has, in full, heaped, 
 and rounded measure, all these splendid qualifications, is the 
 present friend and gallant leader of the party — James G. 
 Blaine. Our country crowned with the vast and marvellous 
 achievements of its first century, asks for a man worthy of the 
 past, and prophetic of her future, asks for a man who has 
 the audacity of genius, asks for the man who is the grandest 
 
James G. Blaine 287 
 
 combination of heart, conscience and brain beneath the flag 
 — such a man is James G. Blaine. 
 
 Let us pause while the galleries roar to admire this 
 apogee of adulation ! Ingersoll went on : 
 
 For the Republican host, led by this intrepid man, there can 
 be no defeat. This is a grand year — a year filled with recol- 
 lections of the Revolution, filled with proud and tender memo- 
 ries of the past; with the sacred legends of liberty — a year 
 in which the sons of freedom will drink from the fountains 
 of enthusiasm ; a year in which the people vote for a man who 
 has preserved in Congress what our soldiers won upon the 
 field ; a year in which they call for the man who has torn from 
 the throat of treason the tongue of slander — for the man who 
 has snatched the mask of Democracy from the hideous face of 
 rebellion; for the man who, like an intellectual athlete, has 
 stood in the arena of debate and challenged all comers, and 
 who is a total stranger to defeat. 
 
 Like an armed warrior, like a plumed knight, James G. 
 Blaine marched down the halls of the American Congress and 
 threw his shining lance full and fair against the brazen fore- 
 heads of the defamers of his country and the maligners of 
 his honor. For the Republican party to desert this gallant 
 leader now is as though an army should desert their general 
 upon the field of battle. James G. Blaine is now, and has been 
 for years, the bearer of the sacred standard of the Republican 
 party. I call it sacred because no human being can stand be- 
 neath its folds without becoming and remaining free. 
 
 Gentlemen of the convention: In the name of the Great 
 Republic, the only republic that ever existed upon this earth, 
 in the name of all her defenders and of all her supporters, in 
 the name of all the soldiers dead upon the field of battle, and 
 in the name of all of those who perished in the skeleton clutch 
 
288 James G. Blaine 
 
 of famine at Andersonville and Libby, whose sufferings he 
 so vividly remembers, Illinois, — Illinois nominates for the next 
 President of this country, that prince of parliamentarians, — 
 that leader of leaders — James G. Blaine. 
 
 Sounds absurd now, does it not! Blaine was sitting 
 comfortably in Congress, while men starved in Ander- 
 sonville and Libby. He never served a day in the field, 
 yet the impudent Ingersoll could claim for him a can- 
 didacy on the fact that he "vividly" remembered their 
 sufferings ! The crowd was thrilled anew. Cheers choked 
 the proceedings. When order came again Oliver P. 
 Morton of Indiana, Roscoe Conkling of New York, 
 Rutherford B. Hayes of Ohio, Marshall Jewell of 
 Connecticut, and John F. Hartranft, of Pennsylvania, 
 were placed in nomination. Blaine led with 285 votes. 
 Morton followed with 124, Bristow 113, Conkling 99, 
 Hayes 61, Hartranft 58, Jewell 11, and William A. 
 Wheeler, of New York 3. Blaine gained 1 1 on the sec- 
 ond ballot. There was little change until the fifth bal- 
 lot when Michigan raised the Hayes figure to 104, 
 Morton being the loser. On the sixth Blaine reached 
 308, Hayes 113. The Conkling forces convinced that 
 he could not win, conferred with other delegates to 
 bring about the defeat of Blaine, by agreeing on Hayes. 
 While the seventh roll call was under way the shift 
 came. When it ended Hayes had 384 votes, Blaine 
 351. Twenty-one stood by Bristow. The nomination 
 of Hayes, then Governor of Ohio for the third time, 
 was made unanimous. The lance of the Plumed Knight 
 lay shivered in the dust. Congressman William A. 
 Wheeler, of Malone, N. Y., received the Vice-Presi- 
 dential nomination. 
 
James G. Blaine 289 
 
 President Hayes ignored Blaine. He took Lot M. 
 Morrill of Maine from the Senate and made him Sec- 
 retary of the Treasury. Maine then sent Blaine to the 
 Senate to fill his seat. The new senator was no less 
 a figure in the Upper House than he had been in the 
 lower clashing with the Turkey Cock Conkling and 
 making himself variously interesting. 
 
 When the National Republican Convention met at 
 Chicago on June 2, 1880, Blaine was again a candi- 
 date. Here Conkling made his great stand for U. S. 
 Grant, with 306 delegates who afterwards proudly 
 wore a medal struck in recognition of their steadfast- 
 ness. James F. Joy of Michigan nominated Blaine. On 
 the first ballot he received 284 votes. Other candidates 
 were James A. Garfield and John Sherman, both of 
 Ohio. Garfield began with but one vote to his credit. 
 Ballot after ballot followed with little change. On the 
 twentieth Sherman advanced to 120. By the thirty-fifth 
 Garfield had grown to 50. Grant's 306 never wavered. 
 On the thirty-sixth roll call the Blaine and Sherman 
 leaders gave up the fight and swung the major part of 
 their support to Garfield, who was nominated by 399 
 votes. Forty-two clung to Blaine. 
 
 The bitterness of Blaine's second defeat was sweet- 
 ened by the discomfiture of Conkling, who was now to 
 lose his leadership and the newly elected President his 
 life as the outcome of the quarrel. Garfield set aside 
 Conkling's claim to dictate. Chester A. Arthur, a 
 faithful Conkling follower, was named for Vice-Presi- 
 dent. The ticket won and Thomas C. Piatt, his New 
 York colleague in the Senate united with Conkling in 
 a demand that Garfield follow their will. Conkling 
 
290 James G. Blaine 
 
 wanted to name the Secretary of the Treasury. Gar- 
 field declined to obey. Instead he placed the hated 
 Blaine at the head of his Cabinet as Secretary of 
 State and gave William Windom, of Minnesota, the 
 Treasury. He recognized Conkling by appointing Levi 
 P. Morton as minister to France, but mortally of- 
 fended in the choice of Blaine. To add to Conkling's 
 humiliation he named William H. Robertson, an im- 
 placable opponent of Conkling and Piatt to the im- 
 portant post of Collector of the Port of New York. 
 Conkling and Piatt resigned in resentment, and the 
 Half-breed-Stalwart situation developed in New York, 
 leading to the assassination of Garfield. Both houses 
 invited Blaine to deliver the address at joint memorial 
 services, in the President's honor, held February 27, 
 1882. This was his peroration: 
 
 As his end drew near, his early cravings for the sea re- 
 turned. The stately mansion of power had been to him the 
 wearisome hospital of pain, and he begged to be taken from its 
 prison walls, from its oppressive, stifling air, from its lone- 
 someness and its hopelessness. Gently, silently, the love of a 
 great people bore the pale sufferer to the longed for healing 
 of the sea, to live or die as God should will, within sight of its 
 heaving billows, within sound of its manifold voices. With wan, 
 fevered face tenderly lifted to the cooling breeze, he looked 
 out wistfully upon the ocean's changing wonders, on its far 
 sails whitening in the morning light, on the serene and shining 
 pathway of the stars. Let us think that his dying eyes read 
 a mystic meaning which only the rapt and parting soul may 
 know. Let us believe that in the silence of the receding world 
 he heard the great waves breaking on a farther shore, and felt 
 already upon his washed brows the breath of eternal morning. 
 
James G. Blaine 291 
 
 "Who now living could pronounce such a eulogy ?" 
 queries John Sherman in his Recollections published 
 in 1895. He was given the thanks of Congress for 
 his eloquence. 
 
 With the death of Garfield, Blaine retired from the 
 Cabinet, December 18, 1881, and thereafter devoted 
 himself afresh to the pursuit of the Presidential prize. 
 Conkling had risked his all in resigning. The New 
 York legislature refused to rebuke the administration 
 by sending him and Piatt back to the Senate. In 1882 
 he forced the nomination of Judge Charles J. Folger 
 on the New York Republicans, to be crushed by a 
 plurality of 192,000 in favor of an unknown Demo- 
 crat, Grover Cleveland. Conkling practiced law in New 
 York thereafter and took no further part in politics. 
 Yet complete as his downfall had been his course 
 created a nemesis for Blaine in the person of Cleve- 
 land. Pennsylvania also elected Robert E. Pattison, 
 a young Democrat for Governor. These convulsions 
 did not bode well for Republican success in 1884. 
 While Conkling was definitely out o|f politics, his 
 "me too" Thomas C. Piatt, was decidedly in. The 
 Half-Breeds controlled New York, and he set patiently 
 to work making it his own. Meanwhile he was quite 
 willing that Blaine should take his turn. 
 
 Chester Alan Arthur had made an exemplary Presi- 
 dent, quite contrary to expectation. The machine 
 [Republicans were feebly "for" him when the National 
 Convention met at Chicago on June 3, 1844. Anti- 
 Blaine Republicans were behind George F. Edmunds 
 of Vermont, an able iceberg. They were represented 
 at Chicago by young Theodore Roosevelt, just cutting 
 
292 James G. Blaine 
 
 his political teeth, Senator George F. Hoar, William 
 Walter Phelps, Henry Cabot Lodge, George William 
 Curtis and Andrew D. White. They proved impotent. 
 So did the supporters of John Sherman and John A. 
 Logan. The delegates had been picked for Blaine and 
 on the fourth ballot named him. His bedraggled plume 
 had been taken out from among the mothballs and 
 dusted for the occasion while frantic admirers adver- 
 tised that he "would sweep the country like a prairie 
 fire." That he did not was no fault of energy or 
 popularity on his part. 
 
 Cleveland's nomination by the Democrats led to an 
 exciting campaign. New York had broken the Repub- 
 lican hold because of Conkling's attempt at dictator- 
 ship, and it developed marked hostility to Blaine, in 
 which Massachusetts joined. Men of high repute like 
 George William Curtis, President Charles W. Eliot, 
 of Harvard, Carl Schurz, Thomas Wentworth Hig- 
 ginson, the Rev. James Freeman Clark and many 
 "Greeley" Republicans revolted. The scathing New 
 York Sun called them "mugwumps" an alleged Mo- 
 hegan word for superior persons and this became their 
 trademark. The Sun battled Cleveland, whom it as- 
 sailed unmercifully, thereby losing about half of its 
 readers to Joseph Pulitzer who had taken over the 
 New York World May 10, 1883, and as he said 
 "made him a present" of New York newspaperdom. 
 The World seized the situation with Mr. Pulitzer's 
 customary alertness and made the most of it. 
 
 The taunts of the highbrow bolters brought Blaine 
 reinforcements from the lower regions. In New York, 
 Tammany Hall, which hated Cleveland, bolted the 
 
James G. Blaine 293 
 
 state ticket, and put up one of its own. This was ex- 
 pected to pull away the Irish vote from Cleveland. 
 Blaine had cleverly catered to the Celts, letting it be 
 known that his grandmother was Irish. This advan- 
 tage was inadvertently spoiled on October 29, 1884, 
 when receiving a delegation of 500 Protestant clergy- 
 men at the Fifth Avenue Hotel, their spokesman, the 
 Rev. Samuel D. Burchard, D.D., a Methodist divine, 
 characterized the Democracy as the party of "Rum, 
 Romanism and Rebellion." The reporters caught the 
 alliteration, but seemingly Blaine did not, for he failed 
 to fend it off in his reply. Blazoned in the press it raised 
 a resentment that did much to check the shift. To add 
 to the ill luck of the day, Blaine was the guest that 
 evening at a gorgeous dinner given in his honor by the 
 Plutocrats of New York, which Walter McDougall 
 the World! s cartoonist made much of in a famous car- 
 toon labelled "The Royal Feast of Belshazzar Blaine 
 and the Money Kings" spread full across the front 
 page of the paper. 
 
 The ghost of Mulligan was revived. Blaine was also 
 accused of promoting while Secretary of State some 
 rather smelly guano claims against Peru. Jacob R. 
 Shipherd, son of the founder of Oberlin College was 
 the wicked partner in this. Some unpleasant things 
 were dug up too, affecting John A. Logan, of Illinois, 
 the candidate for Vice-President. 
 
 Most merciless of all Blaine's opponents was Bern- 
 hard Gillam, cartoonist for Puck. Previous to 1884 a 
 Greek, one Captain George Costentenus, had been the 
 chief attraction of Barnum and Bailey's Greatest Show 
 on Earth, posing in tights as a tattooed man. His epi- 
 
294 James G. Blaine 
 
 dermis had been marvelously decorated by some artist 
 in making pictures on the human skin. Taking the cap- 
 tain as a model Gillam produced a Tattooed Blaine, 
 his cuticle well covered with the various scandals laid 
 at his door. It was probably the most far-reaching, 
 effective cartoon ever drawn and being widely circu- 
 lated did dreadful damage to the Republican candi- 
 date. 
 
 "British Gold" and the u Cobden Club" now ap- 
 peared for the first time in American politics. These 
 were accused of trying to bring about free trade and to 
 expose American workmen to competition with the 
 pauper labor of Europe. Cleveland was for a tariff for 
 revenue. The fat-fryers sizzled the manufacturers and 
 u lard" flowed freely. The Republicans had unlimited 
 money; the Democrats having nothing to deliver or 
 protect were poor. W. W. Dudley, of Indiana, who 
 resigned as Commissioner of Pensions for the purpose, 
 attended to the trying-out. He apportioned the voters 
 of his state, which was pivotal, into "blocks of five" for 
 easy purchase. Although illegal, office-holders were 
 sweated for funds. United States marshals were set to 
 work in the South, now "solid" but shaky in spots. 
 There were Blaine hopes in the situation, though 
 everything pointed to a close contest. 
 
 Election day fell on November 4th. Toward night 
 the feeling in New York grew tense. The returns were 
 meagre. There was nothing from Indiana. Suddenly 
 the Western Union telegraph became silent. It was 
 in control of Jay Gould, who had his offices in the big 
 building, at the corner of Broadway and Dey Street. 
 At nightfall a great crowd gathered in front of the 
 
BLAINE AS "THE TATTOOED MAN" 
 
 This cartoon by Gillam, which appeared in PucJc, June 4, 1884, was one of a deadly 
 series showing Blaine as "The Tattooed Man," because of his political deals 
 
James G. Blaine 295 
 
 structure demanding news. None was forthcoming. 
 Gould was inside. There were loud cries of u No more 
 1876! No more eight to seven !" Then as the im- 
 patience grew, some brought ropes and the throng 
 sang in an ugly chorus: "Hang, hang, hang Jay 
 Gould." Finally they got tired of waiting in the si- 
 lence and dark and went home. 
 
 New York State had been carried apparently by 
 something like 2,000 plurality for Cleveland. Two 
 "Rotten Boroughs" — Long Island City, in Queens, 
 controlled by its Mayor Patrick Jerome Gleason, and 
 Gravesend, a town in Kings County, wherein Coney 
 Island was located, gave the margin. The Western 
 Union would not send out their figures, contrasting 
 rather unpleasantly with the zeal that sent Zach Chand- 
 ler's "claims" to fruition in 1876. 
 
 Ten days passed before it was certain that Cleve- 
 land had conquered the Plumed Knight. The New 
 York majority of around 2,000 for him on the first 
 count simmered down officially to but 1 149. The state's 
 totals were 563,154 and 562,005 respectively. 
 
 In the electoral college Cleveland had 219 votes to 
 182 for Blaine. On the popular vote his plurality was 
 24*268, the totals being 4,871,/! 18 and 4,840,850 
 respectively. The solid South, New York, New Jersey, 
 Connecticut and Indiana did the business. 
 
 Following his defeat Mr. Blaine retired from public 
 life for four years, during which he made a long stay 
 abroad, coming back much improved in health and 
 spirits, though he grew gray during his absence, and 
 his bulbous nose a bit more bulky. Zealous friends 
 would have wished the candidacy on him in 1888. He 
 
296 James G. Blaine 
 
 would have none of it : probably could not have secured 
 the nomination. It was John Sherman's turn, but he 
 was set aside and Benjamin Harrison had the distinc- 
 tion of defeating Grover Cleveland, quite to the gen- 
 eral amazement. The loss of New York which David 
 B. Hill won as Governor was the cause. Cleveland's 
 re-election had seemed certain. 
 
 President Harrison made Blaine his Secretary of 
 State and he filled the place with distinction. Harrison 
 was a competent executive, unpopular with his party. 
 The Secretary surprised those who recalled the part 
 played by the tariff in 1884, by devising a series of rec- 
 iprocity treaties. He had to handle the lynching of 
 sundry Italian subjects in New Orleans as the outcome 
 of too many Mafia murders, settle the seal-catching 
 relations with Canada and a complication growing out 
 of the Balmaceda revolution in Chile, whither his dic- 
 tum had sent Patrick Egan, an injudicious minister. 
 In a shore row in Valparaiso, an American man-of- 
 war's man was killed. The incident nearly provoked 
 war, but Chile receded when the crisis was reached and 
 apologized properly. 
 
 When Harrison went out of office March 4, 1893, 
 Mr. Blaine retired from public life. He had a fine 
 villa at Bar Harbor, Maine, and in the winter re- 
 sided in Washington. He died in that city, January 
 27, 1893. 
 
 To the history of his country he added several ex- 
 citing chapters, and to his Twenty Years of Con- 
 gress appended a valuable volume of political survey 
 in which he was singularly fair to the Democratic 
 fathers. In his own active days he was a partisan of 
 
James G. Blaine 297 
 
 partisans. Practicing no profession and engaging in 
 no business, he died rich. They called him the "mag- 
 netic man from Maine" because he had a warm hand- 
 shake and a good voice. Maine is not much given to 
 manufacturing men of magnetism. In explanation it 
 may be recalled that he was born in Pennsylvania and 
 possessed Irish blood. 
 
XVII 
 BENJAMIN F. BUTLER 
 
 COMPLEX CHARACTER 
 
 IN the National Democratic Convention, which met 
 at Charleston, S. C, on April 23, i860, Benjamin 
 Franklin Butler voted fifty-seven times for Jef- 
 ferson Davis of Mississippi, to head the ticket as can- 
 didate for President, and then bolted, in company with 
 Caleb Cushing and four other delegates from Mass- 
 achusetts, "upon the ground," as he put it, after a long 
 effort to be heard, "that there had been a withdrawal 
 in whole or in part, of a majority of the States," and 
 further, which was a master move personal to himself, 
 he "could not sit in a convention where the African 
 slave trade, which was Piracy, according to the laws 
 of his country, was openly advocated." As nearly all 
 of the bolters were pro-slavery, it is not clear what im- 
 pulse guided Butler in either action. Davis was cer- 
 tainly pro-slavery. Butler opposed Douglas, the lead- 
 ing candidate, who was against it, but on lines that 
 failed to fit either phase of the situation. Cushing was 
 chairman of the convention and an intimate friend of 
 Davis. The intricacies are too deep to solve and But- 
 ler's curious complex, here and elsewhere, through all 
 his life, remains inexplicable. 
 
 In his autobiography, a ponderous, overwritten 
 
 298 
 
Photograph by Brown Brothers 
 
 BENJAMIN F. BUTLER 
 
Benjamin F. Butler 299 
 
 volume issued in 1892, General Butler says he was 
 born in Deerfield, New Hampshire, November 5, 18 18, 
 about four o'clock in the afternoon, evidently to prove 
 that he came through by daylight! His family was 
 Scotch-Irish, sourly Presbyterian. His mother was 
 Charlotte Ellison; his father, John Butler. The latter 
 was a captain in the War of 1812. Disqualified by ac- 
 cident from serving on land, John Butler manned a 
 Portsmouth privateer, and, among other activities, 
 carried dispatches to Andrew Jackson at New Orleans. 
 He followed the sea after the war, and took letters 
 of marque from Simon Bolivar, who was routing Spain 
 out of Venezuela. While in this service, he died of 
 yellow fever at St. Christopher. The father was a 
 handsome, dashing man, the mother plump and plain. 
 Benjamin favored the latter, plus a drooping eyelid 
 that gave his face an evil look. "Old Cockeye" they 
 called him in the army of the James — also some other 
 things. 
 
 Charlotte Ellison was a second wife, and of her 
 three children, one, Andrew Jackson, died in infancy. 
 The eldest, a daughter, lived twenty-seven years. Ben- 
 jamin was puny and ill-favored. He went to a village 
 school, where he learned to read in six weeks. The 
 village shoemaker loaned him Robinson Crusoe, which 
 his mother balanced with an equal number of pages 
 from the Bible. On such fodder he became a precocious 
 reader, taking in all that was to be had from the Farm- 
 ers' Almanac to Rollin's Ancient History. For a time, 
 when small, he was taken over by his grandmother, 
 who was of the New Hampshire Cilleys, and a woman 
 of character and capacity. 
 
300 Benjamin F. Butler 
 
 Lowell had grown around the falls of the Merri- 
 mac, and became the second city in Massachusetts. 
 Here his mother made her residence, in 1828, and the 
 lad grew up with the town. It was ever after his home. 
 When through with high school, the boy sought a 
 West Point cadetship, but failed to attain it. The 
 mother did not approve, though she tried to get him 
 the appointment. This failing, she sent Ben to Water- 
 ville College, at the Maine town of that name, now 
 Colby University, in the hope that he would become 
 a Baptist clergyman. No youth ever shot wider from 
 the mark of hope than he. With proper perversity he 
 took more interest in chemistry than salvation. 
 
 Given a mind more active than that of any professor, 
 he was soon unpopular with the faculty, and his singu- 
 lar smartness kept him out of the regard of his fellow 
 students. He shirked prayers and was fined ten cents 
 a shirk. This cut deeply into his slender funds. Worse 
 than this, it lowered his rank as a student, quite un- 
 fairly, he thought. His reason refused to accept ortho- 
 doxy and he petitioned to be excused from services. 
 This nearly caused him to be expelled. 
 
 Sore and sour, he took to attending rural trials and 
 discovered that his taste led to the law. His junior 
 studies interested him more than those of the previous 
 two years, and he picked up as a student. So he gradu- 
 ated with 7.5 points to his credit, out of a possible 
 10 — what amounted to skinning-through — and weighed 
 but ninety-seven pounds. A trip in a fishing schooner 
 filled out a slender frame and cured a cough caught 
 from bathing in the icy Kennebec. 
 
 Back to Lowell, he began to study law in William 
 
Benjamin F. Butler 301 
 
 Smith's office. He did some school teaching while he 
 read. In 1840 Judge Charles Henry Warren admitted 
 him to the bar. He stumped for Martin Van Buren, 
 who was running for re-election. Thus Butler identified 
 himself with the Democratic party and remained in 
 the fold for twenty years. 
 
 In 1836, he met and fell in love with Sarah Hildreth, 
 who was then a budding actress. The lady was re- 
 ceptive, but declined to leave the stage until the wooer 
 amounted to something. He reached this point in 1844, 
 when the pair were married on the 16th of May. She 
 lived until 1877. 
 
 His legal practice began on the low level of the 
 police court. Here, and in higher tribunals, he acted 
 on the principle that his duty was to his client rather 
 than the law. His uncanny conception of loopholes 
 soon gave him a reputation, good with the unregen- 
 erate, and bad with the straight-laced members of the 
 bar, who came to dread the aptitude with which he 
 developed new angles of jurisprudence, detected hid- 
 den meanings in statutes and cleared his clients. 
 
 Once, there is tradition, he went beyond the law. 
 A scamp of a client was plainly guilty. Butler asked 
 the privilege of consulting him apart for a moment. 
 The pair went into a vacant room in the court house. 
 There he revealed to his rascal the fact that his case 
 was hopeless. "What shall I do?" asked the man. But- 
 ler pointed to an open window. Then he returned to 
 court and sat with the attorneys, looking vacant and 
 twiddling his thumbs. 
 
 "Where is your client?" queried the judge, when the 
 case came in its turn. "I don't know" replied Ben 
 
302 Benjamin F. Butler 
 
 blandly. "The last time I saw him he was climbing out 
 of the window." 
 
 Naturally, the episode made the town grin and in- 
 creased his fame. Supreme audacity was always his 
 great stock in trade. His proceedings horrified Wil- 
 liam Smith, Esq., in whose office he had dug into 
 Blackstone. Mr. Smith met him in the post office one 
 day after some peculiarly iniquitous performance and 
 said scathingly: "Sir, I am ashamed of you! I feel dis- 
 graced that you ever studied law in my office." 
 
 Ben cocked his eye a little more cockily, but made 
 no reply. Smith lived to see the audacious youth the 
 leading lawyer of the city, and almost of the State, in 
 causes that were apt to be desperate or unsavory. The 
 man had an instinct of the perverse, a certain sympathy 
 for the under dog and a deep desire to lay the mighty 
 low. All these things stand out in his story. 
 
 They led him into local politics and then into the 
 wider field of State and Nation. Lowell was a factory 
 town where operatives toiled fourteen hours a day. 
 Butler arrayed himself against this barbarity, and 
 amid aristocratic Whig surroundings, set himself up 
 as a Democrat, and a pro-slavery one at that. He did 
 not believe in bondage, but the Constitution did, and 
 he believed in the Constitution. There was no authority 
 for a fourteen hour day beyond the will of the em- 
 ployer. For long the operatives had been boys and girls 
 from the New England farms. So talented were some 
 of the females, that they established in the Lowell 
 Offering, a magazine of much literary merit. One of 
 these girls became Mrs. Paran Stevens, dictator of 
 New York society for a generation. 
 
Benjamin F. Butler 303 
 
 The mill population underwent a change with the 
 coming of the Irish. They drove out the New England- 
 ers. Their intrusion was much resented by a Native 
 American party, colloquially known as "Know-Noth- 
 ings" and trouble broke out in various cities. Mobs 
 operated against Catholics in Philadelphia, and the 
 hostile spirit became a factor in politics. 
 
 Butler espoused the side of the newcomers and an- 
 nexed them to his Democratic support in Lowell, with 
 the ten hour day as an issue. His personal position 
 straddled all fences. "As to the powers and duties of 
 the Government of the United States," he wrote later 
 in life, "I am a Hamiltonian Federalist. As to the 
 rights and privileges of the citizen, I am a Jeffersonian 
 Democrat." Between, it might be noted, he was a 
 pretty active Republican, though his days ended in 
 the Democratic fold, tinted with Greenbackism. 
 
 Though standing by the Constitution on slavery, 
 Butler did not think the duty of returning escaped 
 negroes lay with the State, and the Supreme Court 
 agreed with him. Anomalous as it may seem to those 
 historians who insist that the Democracy was the party 
 of slavery, Butler engineered a coalition between the 
 Free Soil party, that came to life in the late forties, 
 and the Democrats, against the invincible Whigs. He 
 was some time in bringing this about over the opposi- 
 tion of the so-called "Hunker" Democrats. The elec- 
 tion of 1849 paved the way. In 185 1, the combination, 
 though not everywhere complete, broke the power of 
 the Whigs in Massachusetts. Butler was recognized 
 as the genius who had brought it about, and denounced 
 accordingly, the Lowell Courier observing: 
 
304 Benjamin F. Butler 
 
 "That the infamous arch demagogue, B. F. Butler, 
 has publicly boasted that his object is to break down 
 the corporations, to reduce the value of their stock to 
 25 or 30 cents on the dollar in order that, by the de- 
 preciation, the Democrats might buy it up, employ 
 Democratic agents and have good Democratic times. 
 Let all who have at heart the welfare of the city and 
 its workingmen remember this at the polls." 
 
 For this the publisher of the Courier was tried and 
 convicted of libel, but the editor escaped a like fate 
 when tried before the same Whig judge for emitting 
 the following: 
 
 "This notorious demagogue and political scoundrel, 
 having swilled three or four extra glasses of liquor, 
 spread himself at whole length in the City Hall last 
 night. * * * The only wonder is that a character so 
 foolish, so grovelling and obscene, can for a moment 
 be admitted into decent society anywhere outside of 
 the pale of prostitutes and debauchees. " 
 
 The jury naively decided that there was no proof 
 the editor meant Benjamin F. Butler, though the item 
 was headed "Ben Butler." So the scribe went free. 
 Butler did not get through his ten hour legislation, but 
 the working day came down to eleven and a quarter 
 hours, and eventually to ten, where it long stuck. The 
 mills were operated by "agents" of the stockholders. 
 These men wielded great and despotic power in finance 
 and politics. Hence the allusion to the desire to re- 
 place these with Democrats. They were all Whigs. The 
 free trade Democrats were, of course, accursed in their 
 eyes. One outcome of the melee was Butler's election 
 to the Massachusetts Legislature. He was then thirty- 
 
Benjamin F, Butler 305 
 
 four. The Whigs were in a minority, the control rest- 
 ing between the Democrats and the Free-Soilers. But- 
 ler credited the victory to & secret ballot law he had 
 helped put over, that put an end to the practice whereby 
 the Whig employer could take his men to the polls in 
 battalions and compel them to vote according to his 
 way of thinking. 
 
 Butler's next public place was in the Massachusetts 
 Constitutional Convention of 1853. Here he parted 
 company with the Irish Catholics, who defeated the 
 adoption of the new charter, because of a clause which 
 forbade State aid to sectarian schools. They controlled 
 the balance of power in Massachusetts even at that 
 early date. Yet Butler had fought know-nothingism 
 as hard as any man could. 
 
 Butler often ran for Congress, but was always de- 
 feated. In 1858, he succeeded in reaching the State 
 Senate, where he managed to reform the judiciary as 
 far as the hide-bound State Constitution would permit. 
 
 Beside his political activity, Butler had, in 1839, be- 
 come a member of the Lowell Guard, a local militia 
 company, and from private he grew to colonel in the 
 fifties. Governor Gardner, as the outgrowth of know- 
 nothingism, ordered him to disband an Irish company 
 called the Jackson Guards. This Butler refused to do. 
 He proved it was not legal, whereupon the governor 
 reorganized the militia and left Butler without a regi- 
 ment, by reason of his residence. He laid low until time 
 came to select a brigadier-general, which was done by 
 the vote of field officers. He was chosen, and Gardner 
 had to sign his commission. To top his glory, President 
 Franklin Pierce named him as a visitor to West Point, 
 
306 Benjamin F. Butler 
 
 Jefferson Davis, Secretary of War, signing his appoint- 
 ment. This military interest was to have great conse- 
 quences for both Butler and his country. 
 
 When after the futile Democratic Convention held 
 at Charleston in May, i860, the warring Democrats 
 reassembled at Baltimore in June, the convention 
 was somewhat changed in personnel, but not in pur- 
 pose. Butler bolted again and joined in nominating 
 John C. Breckinridge. He had at Charleston, been 
 shocked by threats of secession, and by the bolting 
 there of the South Carolina delegates who made open 
 threats of disunion unless their views prevailed. So 
 certain he was that war was in the shaping, that he 
 made mental calculations as to how best to capture the 
 town. George F. Sheply of Portland, Me., afterwards 
 one of his brigadiers, observed on their way home 
 from the South: "Butler, when we cross the Potomac 
 again we shall be carrying muskets on our shoulders." 
 Butler agreed. The prophesy came all too true. Yet he 
 accepted the nomination for governor of Massachu- 
 setts on the Breckinridge ticket, receiving but 6,000 
 votes! As he says: "The year before I had received 
 35,326 out of 108,495 cast. I had done nothing in the 
 meantime to change the vote except to declare myself 
 unalterably opposed to a slave code to be established 
 by the Supreme Court of the United States under our 
 Constitution, for that court would be obliged to follow 
 the legal principle enunciated in the decision in the 
 Dred Scott case, and this could only lead to the reopen- 
 ing of the African slave trade on the high seas, where 
 it had been prohibited for nearly half a century, and 
 riveting the chains on the negroes forever," 
 
Benjamin F. Butler 307 
 
 He had been appointed one of a committee of fifteen 
 to meet in Washington and reorganize the Democracy. 
 There was so little to reorganize that only seven kept 
 the tryst. Nothing was or could be done. While in the 
 city Butler found it seethed with secession talk. He 
 called on his friend Jefferson Davis, then Senator from 
 Mississippi. They talked long. As an outcome, Butler 
 asked Davis how he could justify himself in joining the 
 South in breach of his oath of allegiance to the United 
 States, which he had taken as a soldier and a Senator. 
 Davis replied: "My first oath of allegiance is to the 
 State of Mississippi, and my allegiance to the State 
 of Mississippi overrides my allegiance to the United 
 States." 
 
 Butler asked if he really meant that he would secede 
 with his State. Davis said he would. "Will you come 
 with us?" he added, "No," replied Butler, "I shall go 
 with my State because of my allegiance to the United 
 States." 
 
 Davis showed some emotion. "Is it possible, then" 
 he said, "that we shall meet hereafter as enemies?" 
 Butler told him curtly that would depend upon him- 
 self. "I never afterwards saw him" records Butler, 
 "which was a piece of good fortune for him, for if we 
 had met while I was in command in the United States 
 Army, he would have been saved a great deal of the 
 discomfort which he suffered by being confined in 
 prison." By this he means he would have hanged the 
 President of the Confederacy had he been given the 
 chance. Butler had talent as a hangman. 
 
 The scene now shifted to one of war. Sumter was 
 fired on April n, 1861, and the call for troops re- 
 
308 Benjamin F. Butler 
 
 sounded. Butler put his brigade at the service of the 
 State, and did more, by engaging bankers to finance 
 the sudden call on its Treasury. Suspected as a pro- 
 slave Democrat, he was the first to draw the sword, 
 and for companion-in-arms had Col. Edward F. Jones 
 of the Sixth Massachusetts, another Democrat, at his 
 side. The details of his seizure of Annapolis after the 
 assault on Jones' regiment in Baltimore, his securing 
 the safety of Washington, are all matters of history. 
 With active hostilities his progress was fast, his serv- 
 ices considerable. From the beginning he was in con- 
 flict with all kinds of authority, and so remained until 
 the end. Activity and audacity such as his has small 
 place amid red tape and military formularies. To de- 
 tail his contentions would be tedious. He was often 
 right and as often wrong. The account about balances. 
 
 Being given the Department of Annapolis, he con- 
 sidered Maryland under his jurisdiction, sending a 
 squad to Frederick to capture Ross Winans, the Balti- 
 more engineer who was charged with making pikes of 
 the John Brown pattern for the Baltimoreans who 
 mobbed the Sixth regiment, and a steam cannon de- 
 signed to annihilate the armies of the North. He was 
 promptly released by the Washington authorities. But- 
 ler's next move was to seize Baltimore, marching upon 
 the city in a storm after dark, and capturing an em- 
 inence which commanded the town. 
 
 For these evidences of energy he was censured by 
 Gen. Winfield Scott, his commander-in-chief, and re- 
 moved from the department. Politics got busy, how- 
 ever, and Simon Cameron, Lincoln's first Secretary 
 of War, had him commissioned as major-general. 
 
Benjamin F. Butler 309 
 
 He hesitated to accept, fuming under Scott's rebuke. 
 Cameron urged him as a Democrat not to sulk. He 
 accepted and was sent to command Fortress Monroe, 
 save for its regular troops. The huddle of blunders 
 and incompetencies that marked all the early stages 
 of the conflict now began to assemble. Located ninety- 
 six miles from Richmond, with no enemy of account in 
 the way, Butler wished to move against it. Lack of 
 orders would not have stopped him, but lack of men 
 did. He tried their temper in attacking a small, ill- 
 armed rebel post at Big Bethel, but did not head the 
 three regiments involved in person. Abram Duryea led 
 with his Zouaves. The other two regiments, whose 
 names may remain nameless, became frightened, fired 
 into each other and thus did much more damage than 
 the enemy, which skedaddled, but not until a rifle shot 
 had killed the gallant Major Theodore Winthrop, who 
 essayed to rally the demoralized soldiers. There was 
 nothing to wonder at in the performance, but it dis- 
 couraged the u On to Richmond" cry which Butler 
 had endeavored to obey. He did, however, secure New- 
 port News and Hampton, and could have taken Nor- 
 folk had he been supported, thus saving the Navy 
 Yard and the Merrimac, beside a big Northern scare. 
 One thing the general did do effectively. He opened 
 the door to freedom for slaves. Three negroes came 
 through the lines and their owner, Colonel Mallory, 
 sent Major E. L. Carey, his aid and agent, to Butler 
 with a flag of truce to claim his property under the 
 Fugitive Slave Law. Butler declined to give them up 
 on the ground that Virginia, having seceded, was a 
 foreign country. He therefore declared the negroes to 
 
310 Benjamin F. Butler 
 
 be "contraband of war" and set them to work on the 
 fortifications. This was the first and only sensible 
 thing done anent the slaves until the Emancipation 
 Proclamation broke their chains. 
 
 The black people came flocking in and were duly 
 sheltered and set to work. Butler was never quite sure 
 of the strict legality of his act, but the results were 
 satisfying and certainly relieved the Government of 
 anything like the direct action which it so long hesi- 
 tated to take, from fear that the North would not sup- 
 port abolition, which really required a Constitutional 
 amendment to have legal effect. The step won him 
 great renown above Mason and Dixon's Line, and 
 much abuse below it, where the South had the curious 
 idea that it could do as it pleased and not suffer con- 
 sequences. Theodore Winthrop declared it was an 
 epigram that wrought freedom. It did. 
 
 Meanwhile, Bull Run had been fought and lost. 
 The North was in a panic. Henry J. Raymond, in the 
 New York Times, was clamoring to have Lincoln set 
 aside and George Law, a New York street car mag- 
 nate, put in his place as dictator. Old Gen. John E. 
 Wool was dragged from retirement and put over But- 
 ler at Fortress Monroe. He instructed Butler to move 
 against Hatteras Inlet on the Virginia seacoast side 
 of North Carolina. The expedition went by sea, Butler 
 on the revenue cutter, Harriet Lane. The warships 
 cleared the shore batteries. Some troops were landed 
 with difficulty. Samuel C. Barron, an ex-U. S. naval 
 commodore, was in command of the Confederates. He 
 soon surrendered. Butler's orders required that he 
 should plug up the inlet by sinking some schooners 
 
ONE GOOD TURN DESERVES ANOTHER 
 
 A BROAD HINT TO THE DEMOCRATIC CONVENTION. 
 
 "BEN" BUTLER, THE CANDIDATE 
 
 A laughable cartoon by Gillam, in Puck, July 9, 1894 
 
Benjamin F. Butler 311 
 
 laden with sand. He thought it should be kept and 
 defended, and taking steps to do so, departed for 
 Washington to make his own report. With Gustavus 
 V. Fox and Frank P. Blair he went to the White 
 House and roused Mr. Lincoln from bed. On hearing 
 the news the President grasped Fox by the waist and 
 waltzed him around the room in joyful exultation. 
 Nobody, as Butler remarked, had done anything else 
 except get thrashed at Bull Run. He was the whole war 
 up to date on the side of success. 
 
 Scott was old and vain, and Simon Cameron an in- 
 competent Secretary of War. The President was har- 
 assed and perplexed. He sympathized with Butler's 
 go-ahead-itativeness, but was embarrassed by the snarl 
 of red tape about the War Department, and the dif- 
 ficulties caused by jealousy and questions of rank. But- 
 ler, up to Bull Run, and after, had been the big show. 
 He was a Democrat and open to partisan suspicion. 
 As a way out, having asked for a little leave, he was 
 sent home on recruiting service. Here he showed great 
 zeal, summoning regiments to the colors in all the 
 New England states. The governors were cordial and 
 quick to respond outside of Massachusetts, where John 
 A. Andrew, famous as a war governor, would have 
 none of him. He declined to commission officers se- 
 lected by Butler, because they were Democrats. The 
 governor's course was not indorsed by Lincoln, who 
 broke the deadlock by creating a military district and 
 putting Butler in charge of it. This raised a sizeable 
 row -and caused much discomfort for the Administra- 
 tion. Believing in Butler, Mr. Lincoln now assigned 
 him to command the military operations against New 
 
312 Benjamin F. Butler 
 
 Orleans, where Commodore David G. Farragut was 
 about to take the aggressive with his fleet. Accord- 
 ingly, Butler packed 3,500 men, including Col. Neai 
 Dow, father of Prohibition, on an iron passenger 
 steamer called the Mississippi, and headed them for 
 Ship Island, a white sand bar commanding the mouths 
 of the Mississippi and handy to Mobile. 
 
 Whether from treachery or stupidity, the captain 
 grounded the vessel on the shoals off Hatteras. They 
 were assisted by the blockader Mt. Vernon in the nick 
 of time, as the fluke of an anchor had punched a hole 
 in the bow of the Mississippi, which filled her forward 
 compartment. Fortunately, the bulkhead stood. But- 
 ler had sworn to stand by his ship, and there was a 
 pretty chance of going down with her. He patched the 
 hole with a device of his own, and with bow down and 
 stern in the air, the tub made Ship Island. 
 
 It is needless to detail Farragut's successful opera- 
 tions. But having passed Forts Jackson and St. Philip 
 and cowed New Orleans, the admiral turned the situa- 
 tion over to Butler, who, in his capacity as commander 
 of the Department of the Gulf, now reached the top 
 of his fame. This did not come through any military 
 exploits, for his force did no fighting. It was as ad- 
 ministrator of the angry, rebellious city that he gained 
 a ripe store of laurels and hatred. 
 
 The city was insolent in its attitude and could not 
 believe itself conquered. William B. Mumford, a sport 
 and gambler, pulled down the flag on the Custom 
 House, tore it to bits and paraded the town with a 
 strip in his buttonhole. Butler caught him and hanged 
 him from a beam jutting out of a Custom House win- 
 
Benjamin F. Butler 313 
 
 dow. Women spat on his officers. He proclaimed that 
 such offenders would be treated as women of the town. 
 This was regarded as an insult of the first dimensions. 
 It even travelled abroad and was commented on un- 
 favorably by the eminent Lord Palmerston in the 
 British Parliament. "Pam" even went so far as to ad- 
 vise the Washington government to repudiate the 
 order. It declined to do so. There was no more fem- 
 inine expectoration in New Orleans. Sanitation became 
 his next triumph. It was confidently expected by the 
 Confederacy that the yellow fever would drive the 
 "Beast," as he was termed, out of the city. Instead, he 
 kept the fever out. The poor were starving and idle. 
 He fed them and gave them work. His performances 
 alone kept the North out of the dumps, indeed Thur- 
 low Weed wrote John Bigelow : "We are in a bad way. 
 I wish that Ben Butler had been elected President — or 
 that even now was in Halleck's place." 
 
 The foreign Consuls were actively on the side of the 
 Confederacy — some of them under arms. He curbed 
 their conduct. Soon he was master, to the good fortune 
 of all concerned. He was assuredly some satrap ! More 
 than all this, he raised the first regiment of black 
 troops, whose number grew to 160,000 before the 
 fighting was over. Furthermore, he restored sound cur- 
 rency, driving out the Confederate paper, and gaining 
 back, for Northern merchants, credits that had been 
 confiscated. Naturally, the North rang with his prow- 
 ess. James Parton, the historian, wrote General But- 
 ler at New Orleans a volume fat with eulogy. He 
 was still a Democrat and the shrewd William H. Sew- 
 ard, the Administration's political pilot, saw that a 
 
314 Benjamin F. Butler 
 
 Presidential possibility was ripening under the warm 
 Louisiana sun. Accordingly, Butler was recalled on 
 November 9, 1862, ostensibly because the foreign Con- 
 suls had protested to their governments against his 
 arbitrary acts, and that Louis Napoleon was offended. 
 As that adventurer was meddling in Mexico, and en- 
 deavoring to persuade Britain to recognize the South, 
 it became coincidentally convenient to concede some- 
 thing to him. This was Butler's official scalp. 
 
 There was a good deal more fear of Butler's pos- 
 sible political prowess than of Napoleon, though the 
 Emperor kept a fleet of warships in the gulf, one of 
 which had the nerve to follow Farragut up the river. 
 
 The command of the Gulf was given over to N. P. 
 Banks, also from Massachusetts, who made a mess of 
 it. Butler's recall wrought much joy in the South, and 
 Jefferson Davis, for whom he had so frequently voted 
 at Charleston, issued a proclamation, in which he was 
 declared to be u a felon, deserving of capital punish- 
 ment," to be no longer "considered or treated simply 
 as a public enemy * * * but as an outlaw and com- 
 mon enemy of mankind" and "that, in the event of his 
 capture, the officers in command of the capturing force 
 do cause him to be immediately executed by hanging." 
 
 A like fate was decreed all officers serving under 
 him. The private soldiers were mercifully exempted as 
 being only "instruments," and not "free agents," in 
 the commission of a long list of alleged crimes listed 
 in the proclamation. Judah P. Benjamin wrote it. He 
 was a member of the Davis cabinet, and came from 
 New Orleans. One Richard Yeadon of Charleston, of- 
 fered $10,000 reward for Butler "dead or alive." 
 
Benjamin F. Butler 315 
 
 Well knowing that party politics lay behind his re- 
 call, Butler visited Lincoln and made his position 
 plain. He would either go back to New Orleans or 
 home. The President offered him Grant's post in Mis- 
 sissippi, with the lure that he could swell his army with 
 colored volunteers. Butler stood fast on his ground 
 and offered to return his major-general's commission. 
 He was told to keep it and take a vacation. This he 
 enjoyed until November 2, 1863, when he was given 
 command of the Department of Virginia and North 
 Carolina, to which was added the duty of commis- 
 sioner for the exchange of prisoners of war. This task 
 was soon made light by Grant, who had become com- 
 mander-in-chief, and objected to exchanges as tending 
 to strengthen the enemy and prolong the war. Butler 
 now took over the Army of the James. He established 
 great bases at City Point and Bermuda Hundred, 
 thereby opening the door for Grant to proceed to Rich- 
 mond, via Petersburg, after he had failed in his bloody 
 and useless Wilderness campaign. Butler's own moves 
 were pretty well checked by the active Confederates. 
 He fought one considerable battle — that of Drury's 
 Bluff, and dug the celebrated Dutch Gap canal. His 
 plans for reaching Richmond were stopped by the con- 
 solidation of his army with that of the Potomac, on 
 January 8, 1865. 
 
 His activities have been much criticized, but, studied 
 carefully, they seem to have been sound. The Dutch 
 Gap canal avoided the defenses at Drury's Bluff. Our 
 gunboats could have proceeded to Richmond, had there 
 been an officer in command daring enough to make the 
 attempt. Indeed, Farragut was sent for to look it over 
 
316 Benjamin F. Butler 
 
 at the eleventh hour. Before he could act, Lee had 
 surrendered. 
 
 Politically, Butler had shifted his gears. Lincoln, 
 in the election of 1864, dropped Hannibal Hamlin of 
 Maine, for running mate and took on Andrew John- 
 son of Tennessee — a smart piece of political profiteer- 
 ing, it was thought. Butler intimates that Lincoln of- 
 fered him the place. He left the front to take military 
 charge in New York, to ensure a "fair" election re- 
 sult, November 7, 1864. He did this with some thou- 
 sands of troops, and also "put down" an alleged con- 
 spiracy to push the price of gold up to 300, as an 
 adverse influence on the election. He kept it below 260, 
 by warning the speculators. 
 
 The last act of his military career was not glorious. 
 Ordered to proceed against Fort Fisher, which suc- 
 cessfully guarded the Cape Fear River below Wil- 
 mington, for the easy use of blockade runners, he de- 
 layed to fit up a bombship, which was to blow up the 
 works, but only blew itself up, and that feebly, after 
 a long hesitancy. 
 
 Soon after, David D. Porter and Alfred H. Terry, 
 took the fort in gallant fashion. Lee surrendered; Joe 
 Johnston gave up to Sherman and the war was over. 
 
 Butler now became a full-fledged Republican and a 
 member of Congress from the Essex district, where he 
 had a summer cottage, beating Richard Henry Dana 
 of Three \Years Before the Mast fame. He was in- 
 volved in the attack on President Andrew Johnson, 
 and became one of the committee that sought his im- 
 peachment. Partisan in all things, Butler shone large 
 in a partisan Congress. The rascality of Reconstruc- 
 
Benjamin F. Butler 317 
 
 tion, the corrupt politics of Grant's first Administra- 
 tion, had much of Butler in them. He filled his pockets. 
 A great stone castle still stands across the way from 
 the Capitol. He built and lived in it to be handy to 
 the works. Replacing Charles Summer as the leader 
 of the Massachusetts forces, he degraded the State 
 by the appointments he fathered, and so did much to 
 provoke the independent revolt of 1872. He lost his 
 seat in 1874. After two years retirement, he was 
 elected from the Lowell district in 1876, in a bolt 
 against Judge E. R. Hoar. The two years that fol- 
 lowed were his last as a Republican. 
 
 Ambitious to be governor of Massachusetts, he 
 tried hard for the Republican nomination. The silk 
 stockings were too much for him. Accordingly, he ran 
 as an Independent, in 1878, and lost. The next year he 
 captured the nomination of the Democrats — any party 
 would now do; he was getting old and in a hurry for 
 the honor. He was beaten. In 1880, he supported Han- 
 cock, and in 1882, won the coveted office as a Demo- 
 crat. During his term he made a great scandal of the 
 conduct of the State almshouse at Tewksbury. It was 
 charged that the bodies of paupers were sold to the 
 Harvard Medical College for dissection, and that the 
 skins of some had been tanned. They made poor 
 leather. (Carlyle alleged that the skins of young aristo- 
 crats, who mocked at Jean Jacques Rousseau, were 
 tanned and used to bind his books during the French 
 Revolution.) The charges were not strong enough to 
 give Butler a second term in the State House, though 
 he made a vigorous campaign. I heard him speak in 
 Tremont Temple. He was a big, bulbous man, shaped 
 
318 Benjamin F. Butler 
 
 then like a pouter pigeon; very bald, with a mountain 
 of a head. His face was red and his drooping eyelids 
 gave him a curiously unpleasant expression. Dema- 
 gogue was trade-marked all over him. 
 
 Though a delegate to the Democratic Convention at 
 Chicago in 1884, he bolted the nomination of Grover 
 Cleveland, on the excuse of free trade, and became 
 the candidate of the dying Greenbackers. In this he had 
 the support of Charles A. Dana and the -New York 
 Sun f to whom Mr. Cleveland was "a good man, weigh- 
 ing 250 pounds." In the result he weighed as many 
 tons. Dana was crushed, his paper reduced to the low- 
 est rank in New York, and Butler's public career 
 ended. But his bolt helped to elect Cleveland. 
 
 Of Butler's eminence there can be no dispute. As 
 a lawyer he pleaded many causes and was more than 
 often victorious. He possessed acumen and insight 
 such as is given few men, together with a boldness that 
 verged on the unscrupulous. These qualities made for 
 success. Thus he became rich, and detested. The aris- 
 tocracy of his State regarded him with horror; the 
 leaders of his party feared and hated him. Yet, in spots 
 he served his country well. In New Orleans he was the 
 right man in the right place; in Congress the reverse. 
 The greater part of his repute rested on notoriety 
 rather than glory. 
 
 The general never lost the love of the sea, picked 
 up on his first fishing trip. When the wartime navy 
 was cleared up, he acquired the famous yacht America, 
 winner of the celebrated cup, which had been captured 
 running the blockade. In this marvel of the shipbuild- 
 er's art he and his son Paul spent many pleasant 
 
Benjamin F. Butler 319 
 
 hours. The vessel was turned over to the Government 
 by his heirs, and is now part of the equipment of the 
 Annapolis Naval Academy, still the envy of yacht 
 builders, and much studied as a model. 
 
 General Butler died at Lowell, January n, 1893. 
 When Judge E. Rockwood Hoar was asked if he in- 
 tended to attend the funeral, he replied: u No, but I 
 approve of it." This seems to be the verdict that 
 stands against his name. 
 
XVIII 
 WILLIAM JENNINGS BRYAN 
 
 "prince of peace" 
 
 FROM the days of Continental currency to the 
 founding of the Federal Reserve Bank in 19 15, 
 the United States had been a fertile field for 
 financial heresies. A fast growing country, with slow 
 communications, limited credit, and a shortage of cir- 
 culating medium, made it easily subject to financial dis- 
 tress. Of the "hard money" stock, silver was relatively 
 scarcer than gold, with a varying value affected by the 
 supply, which finally caused its demonitization — the 
 celebrated "Crime of 1873." Wild cat currency, and 
 bank notes that were seldom tame, kept the country in 
 monetary misery. When the government greenback 
 was invented in 1862 it soon became so much below 
 par as to imperil the finances of the nation. The gov- 
 ernment paid its bills with the paper, but would accept 
 nothing but gold for its dues, with a resulting en- 
 hancement in the value of the yellow disks. The green- 
 backs were "legal tender" by mandate among men, 
 but not in the Treasury Department. 
 
 Quite naturally people thought that when the gov- 
 ernment got on its feet financially the greenback should 
 be as good as gold and acceptable for taxes. A test 
 before the United States Supreme Court decided that 
 
 320 
 
Photograph by Cramstorff Bros., Inc. 
 
 WILLIAM J. BRYAN 
 
 
William Jennings Bryan 321 
 
 it was not. As time passed the greenback had been 
 steadily creeping toward par, the difference between it 
 and the gold dollar being merely fractional. This was 
 evidence to the Greenbackers that it was "good" and 
 they persisted in their demand for more. It had been 
 helped in value by the retirement of some $200,000,- 
 000 which was deemed to cramp the country. This was 
 true, for it was growing and needed more currency, 
 not less, in order to do business in comfort. The hard 
 times of 1873 an d later were credited to demonitiza- 
 tion of silver and squeezing the water out the green- 
 backs. They were due instead to over-building of rail- 
 roads and the crimping of credit by scared capital. 
 The people however wanted the hair of the dog that 
 had bitten them in war time. Legislation was first put 
 through that provided for a flood of fiat currency. The 
 steadfast President, U. S. Grant, vetoed it. Then there 
 sprang up a Greenback Party determined to head off 
 the return of specie payments. This was a disturbing 
 factor for two decades, until merged into Populism in 
 1892, when the vote for J. B. Weaver, of Iowa, ran 
 up to a million, captured twenty-two electoral votes, 
 and drew enough support from the Republicans to 
 place Grover Cleveland in the White House for a sec- 
 ond term. Just as the election of James Buchanan in 
 1856 was supposed to have stilled the fires of Anti- 
 Slavery, and Secession, so Cleveland's triumph was ex- 
 pected to put a quietus upon Populism. Instead it bred 
 something worse. 
 
 The world's silver supply had been suddenly aug- 
 mented in the late sixties by a discovery of vast de- 
 posits in Nevada, which such vigorous diggers as John 
 
322 William Jennings Bryan 
 
 W. Mackay, J. G. Fair and George Hearst, developed 
 with much energy. It was found that the mercantile 
 demand for the mineral could not consume its output 
 and, following the American custom, the government 
 was called upon to assist in absorbing the surplus. In 
 1878 therefore Congressman Richard P. Bland of 
 Missouri, who had engaged in mining the metal, suc- 
 ceeded in passing a bill through the House calling for 
 the "free and unlimited" coinage of 412^/2 grain sil- 
 ver dollars, or at the rate of 15.62 to 1, for gold. Any 
 person bringing metal to the mint could have it coined 
 on this ratio. Senator William B. Allison, of Iowa, 
 eliminated "free and unlimited" to the disgust of 
 Bland, and provided that the government might buy 
 not less than 2,000,000 or more than 4,000,000 ounces 
 per month, but not to exceed investing more than 
 $5,000,000, in bars. This was only a sop to silver, but 
 it passed by a non-party vote. Allison saw that in effect 
 the government would be buying all that was offered 
 at 96 cents per ounce and soon go broke. Nobody 
 wanted the cart-wheels after currency was redeemable 
 in gold, January 1, 1879, an d the mines stagnated. At 
 the appeal of their owners in 1890, John Sherman put 
 through an act requiring the purchase of 4,500,000, 
 ounces of silver per month. There was no demand for 
 it in coinage outside of fractional amounts and the 
 metal piled up by the ton in the Treasury while good 
 money went out steadily to pay for silver at twice its 
 market value. 
 
 Some of it was salvaged by the issuance of one dol- 
 lar "silver certificates," which were of course, paper. 
 
William Jennings Bryan 323 
 
 They circulated at par and only served to further stag- 
 nate the stock of bullion in the Treasury. 
 
 When Mr. Cleveland came into power in 1893, it 
 was discovered that the country's gold reserve had 
 well-nigh disappeared, no one knew where. Then the 
 wise found that we had been exchanging useful gold 
 for useless silver and that the yellow boys had rolled 
 away. Semi-panic ensued. The richest government in 
 the world had to sell $100,000,000 in bonds to restore 
 its gold reserve. It had previously sold $64,000,000 
 worth which did not last long, for the same purpose. 
 
 Mr. Cleveland set to work and secured the repeal 
 of the Sherman Act to the immediate relief of the 
 Treasury, but to the deep distress of the silver miners. 
 These now sought legislation that would permit the 
 free coinage of silver at a sixteen to one ratio. That 
 is as under Bland's plan, producers of the metal could 
 take it to the mint, have it coined, and less seignorage, 
 turn it loose upon the country in dollars. The govern- 
 ment would not buy it in this circumstance, but the 
 people would. That at least was the theory. Silver had 
 however dropped from its high estate of 96 cents per 
 ounce to 46 cents. The stamp of the government had 
 held up its lost value in currency form. This would 
 vanish with free coinage. 
 
 In 1896 the silver miners set about seriously to 
 save themselves. They had to capture an administra- 
 tion. The Republicans met first at St. Louis where they 
 nominated William McKinley, of Ohio. He had been 
 a silver man. The American Bankers' Association 
 through its agent Oscar E. Leach, cashier of the Na- 
 
324 William Jennings Bryan 
 
 tional Union Bank of New York, supplied Thomas 
 C. Piatt, the Republican boss of the State, with funds, 
 which enabled him to secure the insertion of a gold 
 plank in the platform. So the baffled silver men, under 
 the leadership of Marcus Daly, head of the Anaconda 
 Mine, turned their energies toward the Democracy. 
 They knew that parties did not invent issues, but that 
 issues could capture parties. 
 
 There had come into Congress from Lincoln, Ne- 
 braska, in 1 89 1, a gifted young man named William 
 Jennings Bryan, who speedily became known as "The 
 Boy Orator of the Platte." This he was by adoption 
 having been born at Salem, Illinois, March 19, i860. 
 He graduated from Illinois college with high honors 
 in 188 1, becoming valedictorian of his class. Studying 
 law, at Union College, Chicago, he was admitted to 
 the bar in 1883, an d hung out his shingle at Jackson- 
 ville, the old home of Stephen A. Douglas. 
 
 The next year he married Mary Elizabeth Baird, a 
 charming and accomplished fellow-student and in 1887 
 shifted his sign to Lincoln. Here he got on, and whence 
 he was sent to Congress where he served two terms, 
 ending in 1895. Toward the close of his service he be- 
 came editor of the Omaha World r Herald. He had 
 formed the habit of attending national conventions 
 covering a number of them, and was present at the 
 nomination of McKinley, representing the World- 
 Herald. He had been nominated for senator several 
 times in Nebraska and though but thirty-six, knew 
 politics and how to touch popular chords. Of robust 
 and pleasing appearance he had a real gift for oratory, 
 sonorous voice and unlimited endurance. He had the 
 
Bkvax to Wokkisgma 
 
 A MIGHTY. RISKY EXPERIMENT. 
 Now. my good man, I propose to cut your dollar in two without hurting you a particle.' 
 
 BRYAN, THE FREE-SILVER WIZARD 
 
 One of the earliest cartoons of this later much-cartooned candidate, by Rogers, 
 in Harper's Weekly, August 22, 1896 
 
William Jennings Bryan 325 
 
 face such as people like to note in statesmen — a broad, 
 high brow, wide between the ears, a compelling eye, 
 firm chin and mouth and the sort of nose Napoleon 
 Bonaparte admired. He spoke with passion and could 
 be plainly heard on the back seats. Moreover he was 
 a Presbyterian and believed that God had created man 
 in His Own Image. His heart warmed for the people 
 and he made their wrongs his own — that is to say the 
 plain folks of the West. There was no place in his car- 
 diac region for the grasping capitalist of the East who 
 sold money as a business and had coagulated it into 
 what he called a "trust" that sweated the dollar of 
 the agriculturist until it became thin as a wafer. 
 
 Just as Solon Chase, of Maine, a famous Green- 
 backer, had shouted for u more hog in the dollar" so 
 Mr. Bryan wanted more dollars for the hog-raisers. 
 How the undoubtedly mistreated farmer was to get 
 the dollars never entered his calculations. 
 
 As Sulla, the Tyrant, contemplating the young 
 Julius Caesar "saw many a Marius in this dissolute 
 youth," so the silver men perceived a possibility in the 
 eloquent young Nebraskan and shifted their persua- 
 sive forces from St. Louis to Chicago, where the Dem- 
 ocrats were assembling to name a successor for Mr. 
 Cleveland. A seat as a delegate from Nebraska had 
 been secured for Mr. Bryan, and the ways had been 
 carefully greased for launching him as a candidate. 
 
 Through fusions with the Populists in the West the 
 convention was liberally stocked with Wild Asses 
 Colts. The silver men had small difficulty in saddling 
 them, the hostler being this self-same Boy Orator of 
 the Platte. Well surcharged with silver, he came laden 
 
326 William Jennings Bryan 
 
 with a plank for the platform that declared for free 
 coinage. Peppered with populism there had never been 
 quite such a Democratic Convention before. Fusion 
 had brought in so much queer company that old timers 
 looked askant upon the scene and wondered at the 
 outcome. David B. Hill, of New York, Anti-Cleveland, 
 but sound in sense, sat gloomily by while the wild peo- 
 ple worked their will. He had come West in the hope 
 of becoming the standard-bearer, but could not dis- 
 cover a gleam of hope, so securely did the populists 
 and silverites control. 
 
 Colonel Charles H. Jones, editor of Joseph Pulit- 
 zer's St. Louis Post-Dispatch, had brought a platform 
 already written, containing his celebrated "Govern- 
 ment by Injunction" clause which had caused his exile 
 from the editorial charge of the New York World to 
 Missouri. He cheerfully accepted Mr. Bryan's equally 
 ready-made silver plank. When the show began the 
 latter was u duly surprised" at being asked by Senator 
 John P. Jones, of Nevada, to take charge of present- 
 ing the free silver side. He had aspired to this duty, 
 but felt it belonged to Jones, and had raised his eyes 
 to the chairmanship of the convention, but "having 
 passed through a circle of disappointments I found my- 
 self in the very position for which I had at first 
 longed." He went to Jones after the convention in 
 sweet innocence to learn how he had been selected for 
 the honor, to find out from that solemn wag that u he 
 knew of the part I had taken in organizing the fight." 
 He did indeed, having helped to pay for it. 
 
 Describing what followed Mr. Bryan notes in his 
 Autobiography: "I had spoken long enough to know 
 
William Jennings Bryan 327 
 
 that, comparing myself with myself, I was more effec- 
 tive in a brief speech in conclusion than a longer speech 
 that simply laid down propositions for another to fol- 
 low * * * For some reason — I do not now recall 
 what the reason was — the debate on the platform was 
 put over until the next day and I had time to think 
 over my speech during the night and to arrange my 
 arguments in so far as one can arrange arguments for 
 a closing speech. I fitted my definition of the business 
 man at the place that I thought best and kept my 
 'cross of gold and crown of thorns' for the conclu- 
 sion.'' 
 
 Never, he felt, had there been a better setting for a 
 speech. The Republican Convention "had declared for 
 the maintenance of the gold standard only until it was 
 possible to restore bi-metallism by international agree- 
 ment, and the platform pledged the party to an effort 
 to secure international bi-metallism." 
 
 Hill, William F. Vilas of Wisconsin, and Governor 
 W. E. Russell of Massachusetts had "provoked" and 
 "irritated" the delegates by their stand for honest 
 money. These were now ready for Bryan. He con- 
 fesses naively that he "was prepared to answer in an 
 extemporaneous speech the arguments which had been 
 presented — that is extemporaneous so far as its ar- 
 rangement was concerned." 
 
 Satisfied with the situation and himself he felt "as 
 composed as if I had been speaking to a small audi- 
 ence on an unimportant occasion. From the first sen- 
 tence the audience was with me. My voice reached to 
 the uttermost parts of the hall, which is a great advan- 
 tage in speaking to an audience like that." 
 
328 William Jennings Bryan 
 
 There was another advantage — arranged as care- 
 fully as his speech : "The audience acted like a trained 
 choir — in fact I thought of a choir as I noted how in- 
 stantaneously and in unison they responded to each 
 point as made." 
 
 Thus it was that what appeared like a spontaneous 
 outburst on the part of speaker and audience came to 
 pass. The peroration that thrilled had been carefully 
 rehearsed. It came forth flaming in this form: 
 
 My friends, we declare that this nation is able to legislate 
 for its own people on every question, without waiting for the 
 aid or consent of any other nation on earth; and upon that 
 issue we expect to carry every state in the Union. I shall not 
 slander the fair state of Massachusetts nor the inhabitants of 
 the State of New York by saying, that, when they are con- 
 fronted with the proposition they will declare that this nation 
 is not able to attend to its own business. It is the issue of 
 1776 over again. Our ancestors who were but three million 
 in number, had the courage to declare their political inde- 
 pendence of every other nation; shall we, their descendants, 
 when we have grown to seventy millions, declare we are less 
 independent than our forefathers? No, my friends, that will 
 never be the verdict of the people. Therefore we care not upon 
 what field the battle is fought. If they say bi-metallism is good, 
 but that we cannot have it until other nations help us, we 
 reply that, instead of having a gold standard because England 
 has, we will restore bi-metallism, and then let England have 
 bi-metallism because the United States has it. If they decide 
 to come out into the open field and defend the gold standard 
 as a good thing, we will fight them to the uttermost. Having 
 behind us the producing masses of this nation and the world, 
 supported by common interests, the laboring interests, and the 
 toilers everywhere, we will answer their demand for a gold 
 
William Jennings Bryan 329 
 
 standard by saying to them: "You shall not press down upon 
 the brow of labor this crown of thorns, you shall not crucify 
 mankind upon a cross of gold !" 
 
 Hardly up to "Give me liberty or give me death" 
 but it produced a prodigious furore. Men tore banners 
 from the walls and waved them in furious excitement. 
 The applause thundered in hurricanes. When the con- 
 vention had accepted the platform, with a final howl 
 it adjourned to nominate on the next day. J. P. Bland, 
 the original silver man received 235 votes on the 
 first ballot, Bryan 119, Governor Robert E. Pattison, 
 of Pennsylvania, 95, J. S. C. Blackburn, of Kentucky 
 83, Governor Horace Boies of Iowa, 85. The rest of 
 the delegates scattered. Out of the total 178 did not 
 vote at all. They saved themselves by arrangement, for 
 Bryan. When the fifth ballot was announced he had 
 500 votes and needed 512. These were given him at 
 once by changes. Arthur Sewell, a rich ship builder, of 
 Bath, Maine, was named for Vice-President. Then 
 the delegates went home. 
 
 Bryan took the stump and made a wonderful can- 
 vass. He stirred and scared the country. Money bags 
 grew weak in the knees at his exuberant progress. 
 Enormous crowds heard and acclaimed him every- 
 where. Business men were in a near panic, artfully en- 
 couraged by Marcus A. Hanna, of Cleveland, who had 
 brought about the nomination of McKinley. Thomas 
 C. Piatt collected great funds in New York. All over 
 the country men of money contributed heavily to save 
 the gold standard and the Republican Party so lately 
 converted to its merits. In addition a Democratic bolt 
 was contrived, the venerable John M. Palmer, of II- 
 
330 William Jennings Bryan 
 
 linois, being placed at its head and General Simon Bol- 
 ivar Buckner, of Kentucky on the tail. The Populists 
 put Thomas E. Watson of Georgia, in the field. 
 
 No newspaper of much account except the St. Louis 
 Post-Dispatch which Mr. Pulitzer could not control 
 under his contract with Colonel Jones, supported 
 Bryan. Mr. Pulitzer's New York World was espe- 
 cially vigorous in the negative. Bryan travelled 18,000 
 miles making unnumbered speeches, but was beaten 
 with 176 electoral votes to 271 for McKinley. On the 
 popular vote McKinley polled 7,104,779, Bryan 
 6,502,925, a Republican lead of 601,854. This looks 
 like a large margin, yet in the balancing of the electors, 
 a change of 25,000 ballots, properly distributed, would 
 have carried the college and elected Bryan. 
 
 The country rejoiced in the victory and thought 
 itself safe from silver. It was, but not from Bryan. He 
 kept in the field. When the needless Spanish War was 
 unloaded on the Administration, Mr. Bryan straight- 
 way offered his services to President McKinley, who 
 was not polite enough to reply. So Mr. Bryan enlisted 
 as a private in a militia company at Lincoln, pending a 
 hope that he might get on Major-General Joseph 
 Wheeler's staff, which was not possible while uncom- 
 missioned and without military experience. Accord- 
 ingly Governor Silas A. Holcomb, of Nebraska, au- 
 thorized him to raise a regiment which he did, riding 
 at its head as Colonel. He looked well in a uniform but 
 had not the luck of Theodore Roosevelt to reach Cuba. 
 His command was kept Hve months in Florida. No 
 Democratic military records were desired while those 
 of Republicans were so thin. 
 
William Jennings Bryan 331 
 
 Bryan resigned the day peace was declared and went 
 back to Nebraska. He did not subside, however, but 
 picked up imperialism as an issue, growing out of 
 America's acquisition of Porto Rico and the Philip- 
 pines. This he made his shibboleth, much encouraged 
 by Joseph Pulitzer who was glad to get back into Dem- 
 ocratic company, though the World would not swallow 
 Bryan and silver. When the Democrats met at Kansas 
 City July 5, 1900, Mr. Bryan did not for once attend. 
 His friend R. L. Metcalfe of the World-Herald was 
 among those present, however, at the head of the dele- 
 gation and attended to his nomination which came by 
 acclamation. Imperialism was made the battle cry, and 
 an effort to drop silver caused some choking, Bryan 
 insisting that the Chicago silver plank be reaffirmed. 
 This was done but it made small stir in the campaign. 
 Colonel Jones again indited the platform, still holding 
 Mr. Pulitzer in defiance. Adlai E. Stephenson, the 
 axe-wielder in Mr. Cleveland's administration was se- 
 lected as vice-president. Defeat was their portion. This 
 time Bryan had 155 electoral votes to 292 for the re- 
 nominated McKinley, whose popular majority was 
 849,790. 
 
 He took himself out of the race in 1904, when at St. 
 Louis William Randolph Hearst, of California and 
 New York, came close to capturing the nomination, 
 but was defeated by Judge Alton B. Parker, head of 
 the New York Court of Appeals. Mr. Bryan attended 
 and sought to keep silver in the platform. He did not 
 succeed, but wrote much of the rest of it. David B. 
 Hill ran the show and put over Parker, who came out 
 for gold. The Judge was a comely man but not na- 
 
332 William Jennings Bryan 
 
 tionally known. Mr. Pulitzer had recaptured the Post- 
 Dispatch from Colonel Jones and it, together with the 
 New York World rejoiced in the "Passing of Bryan." 
 He did not go very far away, having in 1900 estab- 
 lished the weekly Commoner, at Lincoln, v/hich had 
 100,000 circulation, out of which he made money and 
 through which he was heard from. Parker was badly 
 beaten by the redoubtable Theodore Roosevelt, the 
 electoral vote standing 336 to 140, with a popular ma- 
 jority of 2,545,515. 
 
 Saying "I told you so' 1 Bryan fixed his fences for 
 1908 when William H. Taft received the Republican 
 nomination by inheritance from his predecessor, whose 
 war secretary he had been, in the expectation that he 
 would give it back at the end of four years. This time 
 the World and Post-Dispatch accepted Bryan, but he 
 was again defeated, the electoral vote standing 321 to 
 172, and abandoned Presidential ambition thereafter, 
 to become a star on the Chautauqua circuit taking 
 "The Prince of Peace" as his chief topic. He was very 
 popular and succeeded in this field. He did not, how- 
 ever, forego his habit of attending conventions, being 
 present at the 19 12 Republican and Bull Moose gath- 
 erings at Chicago, as reporter for a newspaper syndi- 
 cate. The split made the Democratic nomination a 
 prize-package. Mr. Bryan attended the Democratic 
 convention at Baltimore in the dual capacity of corre- 
 spondent and delegate from Nebraska, instructed to 
 vote for Champ Clark, of Missouri, Speaker of the 
 House. Clark was popular in the West and South. 
 Colonel E. M. House, J. P. McCombs and William G. 
 McAdoo had put themselves behind Woodrow Wil- 
 
William Jennings Bryan 333 
 
 son. There was a stiff contest. Bryan voted for Clark 
 so long as the New York delegation was against him. 
 When Charles F. Murphy, the Tammany Boss or- 
 dered them to support Clark on the tenth ballot, Mr. 
 Bryan turned to Wilson on a resolution to the effect 
 that no Morgan-Ryan-Belmont-Tammany combination 
 could be permitted to put a President in the White 
 House. He stuck to Wilson until he won out. 
 
 Whether because of gratitude or pre-arrangement 
 through Wilson's clever management, when victory 
 followed the Republican dissensions, the new Presi- 
 dent named Mr. Bryan Secretary of State. This he ac- 
 cepted. The place was not pleasant, the self-centered 
 Wilson regarding his cabinet members rather as ap- 
 pendages to him than as factors of his administration. 
 Mr. Bryan frequently found himself wandering in the 
 dark with a hostile press ever striving to make him 
 appear ridiculous. The Austrian Ambassador Dumba 
 made a statement public credited to Bryan that the 
 American protest on the sinking of the Lusitania was 
 not to be considered seriously. The Secretary, replying 
 to Dumba's query as to why the Lusitania incident had 
 any different aspect than the holding up of our ships 
 bound for Hamburgh and Kiel, had answered that tak- 
 ing lives and merchandise were different things. So 
 thoroughly misrepresented was Mr. Bryan, and kept 
 so much in ignorance by Mr. Wilson that he found 
 himself ineffective in the European situation developed 
 by the war. The President was running diplomacy him- 
 self with Colonel E. M. House as his confidential 
 agent. Walter H. Page, ambassador to Great Britain 
 was operating on a line of his own quite apart from 
 
334 William Jennings Bryan 
 
 Wilson and Bryan. Between criticism and confusion 
 Mr. Bryan gave it up. He resigned on June 8, 19 15. 
 Mr. Wilson accepted "with a feeling of personal sor- 
 row," adding, "our two years of association have been 
 delightful to me." The immediate cause of his quit- 
 ting was because he declined to sign the second impo- 
 tent note to Germany. Its Foreign Office had suggested 
 arbitration. This Bryan thought should have been con- 
 sidered. Instead the situation was left in the air to 
 come down in armed conflict. Robert Lansing took his 
 place in the cabinet, to be kicked out more ignomin- 
 iously than any man who had ever held high office in 
 the United States. Even Jackson sent his ministers into 
 retirement politely. 
 
 In 1924 Mr. Bryan attended his last convention, 
 this time as a delegate from Florida, where he had be- 
 come a citizen. He was again in "the enemy's coun- 
 try" as he had called it in 1896. The freshness had 
 gone from his voice and his eye had lost its command. 
 The following behind Governor Alfred E. Smith of 
 New York, wanted to push through an Anti-Klan reso- 
 lution. Mr. Bryan did not object to a declaration 
 against intolerance but he did oppose mentioning the 
 Klan by name. On a close vote he had his way. 
 
 Also, his brother Charles W. was nominated for 
 Vice-President. This was the end of Mr. Bryan's re- 
 markable career in American politics. 
 
 He had held the record for attempts at gaining the 
 Chief Magistracy: three times before the people, to 
 be as many times rejected. Yet he had not failed as a 
 man of mark. For one thing the despised dollar of our 
 daddies became worth more than a hundred cents dur- 
 
William Jennings Bryan 335 
 
 ing the war period. After the World War the Nations 
 exerted themselves to establish some form of eternal 
 peace on earth and good-will among men, which had 
 replaced sixteen to one in Mr. Bryan's vocabulary. 
 This under way, he took on the engineering of nation- 
 wide prohibition. Nothing looked less possible. The 
 National Prohibition Party had never done better than 
 300,000 or so at the polls and was a political joke, just 
 as the abolition party was before it, which could never 
 register more than a quarter of a million followers. 
 But abolition prevailed through blood, and prohibition 
 carried in the emotional aftermath of war. 
 
 Mr. Bryan became financially interested in Florida. 
 He had shifted his residence from Lincoln to Miami, 
 after his retirement from the Department of State, es- 
 tablishing himself in a pleasant home that he called 
 Villa Serena. He became an appanage of the boom, 
 establishing a Bible Class that soon became too big for 
 the Presbyterian Church and had to move outdoors, 
 locating in a park on the shore of Biscayne Bay. Here 
 five thousand people would gather each Sunday to hear 
 him expound the lesson. Between times he did some 
 talking for Florida in the interest of the real estate ex- 
 ploitation. The Young Men's Christian Association 
 sent him across the continent through Canada, to or- 
 ganize new bodies in its name. He was very successful 
 at this. Never familiar, he had a warm hand when 
 grasped and an imposing personality, while his speech, 
 if not profound was fervid and his appeals stirred up 
 the good in men. He could not rouse "the boys" or the 
 pot-house politicians but he certainly united the god- 
 fearing. 
 
336 William Jennings Bryan 
 
 Religion crowded his closing years. He was unceas- 
 ing in his exertions and kept as busy as a Prince of 
 Wales, laying corner stones, dedicating churches and 
 aiding drives for raising funds. To this he gave time 
 and strength without stint, to the exhaustion of the 
 latter. His splendid physique seemed equal to any 
 strain, but as the event proved it was not. 
 
 The State of Tennessee put a law on its statute 
 books forbidding the teaching of evolution in 
 public schools. Some ingenious young gentleman in the 
 modest town of Dayton conceived the brilliant idea of 
 putting the place on the map by the device of testing 
 the act. John J. Scopes, a teacher in the public school 
 was therefore taken to account for explaining Darwin 
 to his class in biology. Hicks and Hicks, hitherto un- 
 heard-of counsellors at law, undertook the prosecution 
 in May, 1925. With the consent of the County Judge 
 and the Attorney General they invited Mr. Bryan to 
 take part in the case on the side of the law. The ques- 
 tion at issue was wholly legal, but it was made to take 
 on an aspect of bigotry. Of course Mr. Bryan's partici* 
 pation gave it nation-wide interest, though as Mrs. 
 Bryan sensibly observes in writing of her husband: 
 "The truth or lack of truth in the theory of evolution 
 were out of place. ,, She evidently disapproved of the 
 fuss. The press and public, however, did not hold this 
 view. Neither did Mr. Bryan. 
 
 The bones of Darwin were well rattled during the 
 course of the trial while Mr. Bryan was placed in a 
 class with the Inquisitors of the Holy Office. Times 
 were dull — it was summer — and the trial received vast 
 space in the newspapers. Dayton was suffocatingly hot; 
 
William Jennings Bryan 337 
 
 jammed with correspondents and the curious. Mr. 
 Bryan worked unceasingly, giving neither his mind or 
 body rest. He was the whole show. Clarence A. Dar- 
 row, defendant's counsel, figured small. Scopes was 
 found guilty, while Mr. Bryan was hailed as the "De- 
 fender of the Faith." 
 
 But the trial had told on him. He consulted a doc- 
 tor, who found his blood pressure normal, heart action 
 good and his general condition satisfactory. The day 
 after this verdict, he retired as usual to take his after- 
 noon nap. Mrs. Bryan sent up to awaken him. The 
 messenger came back to report that he was sleeping 
 so peacefully it seemed a pity to rouse him. Mrs. 
 Bryan was herself invalided, confined to a wheel 
 chair. She felt uneasy and again sent the man up to 
 raise the windows and see if Mr. Bryan was really 
 asleep. He came back reporting: "Something is wrong. 
 I cannot wake him." Indeed something was wrong. 
 The Prince of Peace was dead. This was July 26, 1925. 
 
 As an echo of his five months with the Nebraska 
 regiment in Florida, he had desired to be buried in the 
 American Valhalla at Arlington. This was done. So 
 the Prince of Peace sleeps on a field of Mars. Incon- 
 sistencies never bothered him. Why quarrel with this? 
 
 It is difficult to sum him up. He was a born exhorter 
 and evangelist both in and out of politics. The latter 
 is usually deemed the delight of the unregenerate. Mr. 
 Bryan made politics pious. He was a good man in the 
 trite sense. Right living had been his habit from the 
 beginning. He was thrifty and left a fortune estimated 
 at $750,000, made partly by the rise in Florida real 
 estate, the rest earned on the platform. Few men got 
 
338 William Jennings Bryan 
 
 close up to him, but those who came into considerable 
 contact liked him. Grim old E. W. Howe of Atchison, 
 Kansas, came to hold him in high regard as they fore- 
 gathered at Miami. Joseph A. Altsheler, the World 
 correspondent who accompanied him during the stren- 
 uous 1896 campaign liked him much and wrote a novel 
 The Candidate depicting his traits. He had always 
 to be serving something. That is a characteristic of the 
 evangel. 
 
 Were his accomplishments beneficial to any but him- 
 self? The negative would be a fair reply. His silver 
 fallacy gave rise to political and economic confusion on 
 a large scale. More than this his aimless persistence in 
 politics destroyed opposition in the United States. The 
 strenuous Roosevelt could always outdo him. To com- 
 pete was to become absurd. That Bryan never was. 
 The party of Jefferson lost force and purpose under 
 his demoralizing domination. It did not want him, 
 but he wanted it and had it to his fill. The party has 
 never rallied from the effects of Bryanism. The coun- 
 try has yet to create an intelligent and effective compe- 
 tition with the Republican Party. Roosevelt made the 
 Republicans ineffective against Wilson. Wilson left his 
 party on the rocks. Bryan would have kept out of the 
 war at all hazards. He believed in his principles so 
 long as they interested him. But he was never a Jeffer- 
 sonian or a Jacksonian. He was William Jennings 
 Bryan, Traveller upon Tides. 
 
INDEX 
 
 Abert, Lt. J. W., 149. 
 Abolitionists, 69, 104, 106, 119, 
 
 210, 228. 
 "A. B." plot, 45, 46. 
 Abbett, Leon, 261. 
 Abbeville, S. C, 54. 
 Adams, Charles Francis, 250, 251. 
 Adams, John, xii, n, 12, 42. 
 Adams, John Quincy, iii, 48, 49, 
 
 50, 51, 52, 53, 57, 58, 60, 77, 
 
 78, 80, 81, 83, 250. 
 Adair, Gen. John, 32, 79. 
 Africa, 80. 
 Aiken, S. C, 157. 
 Alabama, State of, 34, 83, 85. 
 Alabama, C.S.S., 132. 
 Alaska Purchase, 206. 
 Albany, N. Y., 5, 8, 128, 232, 
 
 243, 258. 
 Albert, Prince Consort, 143. 
 Alexandria, Va., 221. 
 Allen, William, 261. 
 Allen, William F., 247. 
 Alston, Gov. Joseph, 19, 39. 
 Alston, Theodosia Burr, 28, 36. 
 Alton, 111., 182. 
 Altsheler, Joseph A., 338. 
 Amesbury, Mass., 119. 
 America, 143, 144. 
 Americans, 126, 147, 150, 155, 
 
 156. 
 American Colonization Society, 
 
 80. 
 American People, 142, 175. 
 America, Yacht, 318. 
 Amherst, N. H., 244. 
 Anderson, Gen. Robert, 138, 274. 
 
 Anderson, Richard Clark, 81. 
 Andersonville Prison, 288. 
 Andrew, Gov. John A., 311. 
 Annapolis, Md., 308. 
 Antietam, Battle of, 222, 274. 
 Anti-Grant Republicans, 249. 
 Anti-Jacksonians, 84. 
 Anti-Masonic, 84, 192, 193. 
 Anti-Renters, N. Y., 268. 
 Anti-Slavery, 106. 
 Arizona, 149, 166. 
 Arkansas, State of, 164, 172. 
 Arkansas River, 148, 149. 
 Arlington, 337. 
 Armitage, Dr. T. A., 253. 
 Army of the James, 299. 
 Army of the Potomac, 221, 223, 
 
 226, 316. 
 Army of the Shenandoah, 277. 
 Arnold, Benedict, 119. 
 Arnolds, English, 168. 
 Aroostook War, 130. 
 Arthur, Chester Alan, xviii, 289, 
 
 291. 
 Ashburton, Lord, 116. 
 Ashburton Treaty, 104. 
 Ashland, 88, 89. 
 Ashmun, George, 200. 
 Associated Press, 263. 
 Atlantic and Pacific Union R. R., 
 
 284. 
 Atlas, Boston, 119. 
 Attorney General, 108. 
 Austria, 104. 
 
 Baird, Col. Andrew D., 213. 
 Baird, Mary Elizabeth, 324. 
 Baker, E. D., 121, 217. 
 
 339 
 
340 
 
 Index 
 
 Balmaceda, 296. 
 
 Baltimore, Md., 32, 83, 101, 105, 
 
 i2i, 186, 308. 
 Bank of the Manhattan Com- 
 pany, 12. 
 Bank of the United States, xiii, 
 
 55, 81, 83, 85, 100. 
 Banks, Gen. N. P., 314. 
 Baptists, 73. 
 Bar Harbor, Me., 296. 
 Barn Burners, 196. 
 Barron, Commodore S. C, 310. 
 Bates, Edward, 200. 
 Baton Rouge, 23. 
 Bayard, Thomas F., 236, 262, 264, 
 
 271. 
 Bayou Pierre, 33. 
 Beecher, Henry Ward, 252, 253. 
 Bear Flag, 152. 
 Bear Party, 153, 154. 
 Belden, James J., 258. 
 Belshazzar Feast, 293. 
 Bell, John, 91, 187. 
 Bellamy, Rev. Edward, 3. 
 Benjamin, Judah P., 314. 
 Bennett, James Gordon, 135, 136, 
 
 248. 
 Bennington, Vt., in. 
 Benton, Jesse, 144. 
 Benton, Jessie, 146. 
 Benton, Thomas H., 41, 63, 66, 
 
 72, 81, 82, 85, 86, 93, 94, 144, 
 
 146, 148, 153, 159, 162. 
 Bent's Fort, 148, 149, 158. 
 Bermuda Hundreds, 315. 
 Berrien, John M., 64, 91. 
 Beveridge, A. J., 167. 
 Bethlehem, Conn., 4. 
 Bible Class, Bryan's, 335. 
 Big Bethel, Battle of, 309. 
 Bigelow, John, 139, 142, 143, 199, 
 
 204, 205, 255, 256, 264, 268, 313. 
 Birney, J. C, 104. 
 Black, Jeremiah S., 108, 138, 264, 
 
 285. 
 Black Point, Cal., 165. 
 
 Blackstone, 302. 
 
 Bland, Richard P., 321. 
 
 Blaine, James G., 236, 238, 239, 
 
 240, 258, 260, 262, 282, 283, 284, 
 
 285, 286, 287, 288, 289, 290, 291, 
 
 292, 293, 294, 295. 
 Blair, Frank P., 61, 163, 200, 226, 
 
 239. 
 Blair, Montgomery, 165, 200, 226, 
 
 247, 264. 
 Blatchford, R. M., 204. 
 Blennerhassett, Harman, 21. 
 Blenerhassett, Mrs. Harman, 33. 
 Blennerhassett's Island, 33, 99. 
 Blifill and Black George, 81. 
 Bloomingdale Asylum, 253. 
 Blue Ridge, 211. 
 Bocock, Thomas S., 236. 
 Bollman, Dr. Eric, 28, 32. 
 Bonaparte, 19. 
 Boscawen, N. H., in, 112. 
 Boston, Mass., 112, 115. 
 Boston Courier, 201. 
 Booth, John Wilkes, 205, 247. 
 Botts, John Minor, 122. 
 Bowles, Samuel, 249, 250. 
 Bradley, Joseph P., 264, 265. 
 Brandon, Vt., 168. 
 Breckinridge, John C, 187, 306. 
 Bridger, Fort, 273. 
 Bridger, James, 146. 
 Bridgewater, 128. 
 Bright, Jesse D., 91. 
 Bristow, Benj. H., 286, 288. 
 Britain, Great, xx, 127, 172. 
 British, 116, 128, 160. 
 British Gold, 294. 
 British Empire, 2. 
 British Minister, 107. 
 British Parliament, 313. 
 British Troops, 5, 7, 8. 
 Bronson, Greene C, 229. 
 Brooklyn, U.S.S., 139. 
 Brown, B. Gratz, 249, 250, 251, 
 252. 
 
Index 
 
 341 
 
 Brown, Commodore, 154. 
 
 Brown, John, 188, 308. 
 
 Bruff, Major, 23. 
 
 Bruce, Sir Frederick, 207. 
 
 Bryan, William Jennings, x, xxi, 
 320, 324, 325, 326, 327, 329, 330, 
 S3*, 332, 333, 334, 335, 336, 337, 
 338. 
 
 Bryan, Mrs. William Jennings, 
 
 324, 336, 337- 
 Bryant, William Cullen, 199, 249, 
 
 250, 251, 256, 264. 
 Buchanan, James, xv, 70, 71, 101, 
 
 105, 106, 108, 109, 138, 139, 162, 
 
 176, 178, 181, 183, 188, 271. 
 Buckner, Gen. S. B., 211, 329. 
 Buena Vista, 90. 
 Buffalo, xiv, 99. 
 Bull Run, Battle of, 141, 211, 247, 
 
 310, 311. 
 Bunker Hill, 112. 
 Burchard, Rev. S. D., 293. 
 Burgoyne, Gen. John, in. 
 Burling, Walter, 35. 
 Burnside, Gen. A. E., 222, 223, 
 
 272, 275. 
 
 Burr, Aaron, 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 
 10, n, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 
 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 
 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 
 37, 38, 39, 93, 99, 128, 129. 
 
 Burr, Rev. Aaron, 1. 
 
 Burr, Mrs. Theodosia, 7, 10. 
 
 Burr, Theodosia, 10, 18, 19. 
 
 Butler, Benjamin F., 186, 248, 249, 
 266, 298, 299, 300, 301, 302, 303, 
 304, 305, 306, 307, 308, 309, 310, 
 
 311, 312, 313, 314, 315, 316, 317, 
 318. 
 
 Butler, John, 299. 
 Butler, Gen. W. O., 102. 
 Buttes of Sacramento, 152. 
 
 Caldwell, Josiah, 285. 
 
 Calhoun, John C, 42, 43, 53, 54, 
 
 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 
 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 
 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 83, 85, 89, 90, 
 92, 100, 101, 112, 118, 120, 133, 
 169, 172, 195, 268. 
 
 Calhoun, Patrick, 54. 
 
 California, xiv, 79, 106, 147, 148, 
 153, 154, 156, 157, 159, 160, 161, 
 166, 170, 171, 172, 173, 184, 194, 
 240, 271. 
 
 Cambridge, Mass., 168. 
 
 Cameron, Senior, 141, 200, 308, 
 309, 311. 
 
 Campbell, John A., 264. 
 
 Campbell, Timothy, xxi, 296. 
 
 Canada, 99. 
 
 Canadian Border, 127. 
 
 Canandaigua, N. Y., 168. 
 
 Cape Fear River, 316. 
 
 Carey, Major E. L., 309. 
 
 Carlyle, Thomas, 317. 
 
 Carolinians, 108. 
 
 Carpenter, Matt. H., 264, 285. 
 
 Carson, Kit, 146, 150, 153, 155, 
 158, 159. 
 
 Carvalho, S. N., 161. 
 
 Carvalho, S. S., 161. 
 
 Castro, Gen. Jose, 150, 151, 152, 
 
 153, 155- 
 Catholics, 303. 
 Cass, John, 98. 
 Cass, Lewis, 91, 95, 96, 97, 98, 
 
 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 
 
 106, 107, 108, 109, 194, 195. 
 Castle Garden, 135. 
 Caucus, King, 38, 48. 
 Chancellorsville, Battle of, 275, 
 
 276. 
 Chandler, Zachariah, xvii, 248, 
 
 262, 268, 295. 
 Chappaqua, N. Y., 252, 253. 
 Chapultepec, 66, 126. 
 Charles the First, xix. 
 Charleston, S. C, xiii, 108, 117, 
 
 130, 144, 157, 170, 185, 187, 203, 
 
 298. 
 
342 
 
 Index 
 
 Charleston Bar, 139. 
 
 Charleston College, 145. 
 
 Charleston Convention, 230. 
 
 Charleston Committee, 138. 
 
 Charles V, 204. 
 
 Chapin, Dr. E. H., 253. 
 
 Chase, Mr. Justice, 18. 
 
 Chase, Salmon P., xvi, 139, 195, 
 200, 205, 213, 237, 239, 253. 
 
 Cherokees, 43, 83, 84, 145. 
 
 Chesapeake Bay, 126. 
 
 Chesapeake, U.S.S., 127. 
 
 Chicago, 174, 186, 189, 257, 270. 
 
 Childs, George W., 161, 166. 
 
 Chile, 296. 
 
 Chillicothe, O., 212. 
 
 Chippewa, 128. 
 
 Choate, Dr. G. S., 253. 
 
 Choate, Rufus, 121, 122. 
 
 Church of the Divine Paternity, 
 253. 
 
 Church, Sanford E., 238. 
 
 Churubusco, 209, 273. 
 
 Cincinnati, O., 249, 271, 286. 
 
 Cincinnati, Order of the, 16. 
 
 City Hotel, Nashville, 144. 
 
 Civil War, xv. 
 
 Clark, Daniel, 22, 23, 24, 27. 
 
 Clark, James Freeman, 292. 
 
 Clark, John C, 47. 
 
 Clark, Myron H., 229. 
 
 Clarkites, 45, 47. 
 
 Claiborne, W. C. C, 20, 22. 
 
 Clay, Henry, 49, 50, 53, 56, 65, 67, 
 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 77, 78, 79, 80, 
 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 
 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 112, 113, 117, 
 118, 121, 122, 123, 124, 126, 127, 
 169, 173, 181, 194, 195, 242, 
 245, 268. 
 
 Clay, Henry Jr., 90. 
 
 (Clay, Rev. John, 79. 
 
 Clayton-Bulwer Treaty, 121. 
 
 Clayton, John M., 67, 121. 
 
 Cleveland, Grover, xix, xx, 267, 
 292, 293, 294, 295, 296, 318. 
 
 Cleveland, O., 135. 
 Clifford, Nathan, 264. 
 Clinton, De Witt, 58. 
 Clinton, George, 9, 13. 
 Clio-Sophie Society, 3. 
 Cobb, Howell, 108. 
 Cobb, Joseph B., 44, 50. 
 Colby University, 300. 
 Cold Harbor, battle of, 224. 
 Colfax, Schuyler, 164, 202, 251, 
 
 253- 
 Collingwood, H.M.S., 154. 
 Colton, Rev. Walter, 155. 
 Colorado, 147, 149. 
 Columbia River, 466. 
 Committee on Foreign Affairs, 
 
 249. 
 Committee on Territories, 174. 
 Communism, 245. 
 Concord, Mass., 4. 
 Confederates, 211, 234, 283, 310. 
 Confederate Congress, 236. 
 Confederacy, Southern, 141, 218. 
 Confederate Currency, 313. 
 Congress, U. S., 107, 112, 117, 
 
 128, 137, 140, 163, 169, 174, 
 
 176, 178, 179, 182, 185, 246, 
 
 257, 258, 271, 283. 
 Congress, U.S.S., 154. 
 Conkling, Roscoe, xvii, xviii, 249, 
 
 270, 282, 288, 289. 
 Connecticut, 84, 295. 
 Consul, U. S-, 150. 
 Conquistadores, 132. 
 Constitution, U. S., 134, 168, 172, 
 
 173, 174, 181, 184. 
 Contrabands, 310. 
 Contreras, 209. 
 
 Commissioners to Ghent, 77, 80. 
 Commissioner of Pensions, 294. 
 Coolidge, Calvin, xxiii. 
 Cooper, Charles D., 14. 
 Cooper, James, 91. 
 Copperheads, 231, 234, 271. 
 Cotton Gin, 131. 
 Council Bluffs, la., 174. 
 
Index 
 
 343 
 
 Count de Paris, 219. 
 Cortez, Hernando, 204. 
 Corwin, Thomas, 96, 195. 
 Costentenus, George, 293. 
 Courier and Enquirer, New York, 
 
 193. 
 Cowie, killed, 182. 
 Cox, Jacob D., 251. 
 Cox, James M., xx. 
 Cox, Samuel S., 247. 
 Cranberry, N. J., 17. 
 Crane, Delaware, 151. 
 Crawford, William H., 38, 39, 40, 
 
 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 4-8, 49, 
 
 50, 51, 52, 54, 58, 59, 60, 61. 
 Credit Mobilier, 252, 253, 257, 
 
 271. 
 Crime of, 1873, 320. 
 Crimea, 208, 209. 
 Crittenden, J. J. 137, 139. 
 Creeks, 43. 
 Cuban Slavery, 107. 
 Cumberland River, 33. 
 Curtin, Gov. A. G., 210, 250. 
 Curtis, George William, 292. 
 Cushing, Caleb, 162, 184, 298. 
 Cushing, Col., 31, 128. 
 
 Dallas, A. J., 17. 
 Dana, Charles A., 318. 
 Dana, Richard H., 316. 
 Darrow, C. A., 337. 
 Dartmouth College, in, 112. 
 Darwin, Charles, 336. 
 Davis, David, 250, 252. 
 Davis, Jefferson, xv, 91, 95, 96, 
 
 97, 136, 161, 172, 185, 187, 208, 
 
 248, 298, 307, 314. 
 Davis, Mrs. Jefferson, 76, 131, 
 
 136. 
 Dayton, Jonathan, 22, 31. 
 Dayton, Tenn., 336. 
 Dayton, W. L., 121, 162. 
 
 Dearborn, Sen., 128. 
 
 Deacon, Peter, 79. 
 
 Declaration of Independence, 2. 
 
 Deerfield, N. H., 279. 
 
 Delaware, 121, 227, 264. 
 
 Delaware Indians, 153. 
 
 Democracy, N. Y., 268. 
 
 Democrats, 136, 137, 171, 183, 
 264. 
 
 Democratic, 66, 167. 
 
 Democratic Congress, 260. 
 
 Democratic National Convention, 
 105, 173, 251, 261. 
 
 Democratic Party, xv, 184, 235, 
 258, 260, 301. 
 
 Dennison, Gov. William, 210. 
 
 Denny, Delaware, 151. 
 
 Department of the Gulf, 312. 
 
 Department of Missouri, 162. 
 
 Department of Ohio, 211. 
 
 Department of Virginia and 
 North Carolina, 315. 
 
 Desaix, Gen., 140. 
 
 Detroit, 98, 99, 100, 109, 127. 
 
 Dickinson, Daniel S., 91, 184, 194. 
 
 Dickinson, Gov., 101. 
 
 Dinwiddie County, 127. 
 
 District of Columbia, 69, 70. 
 
 Division of the Potomac, 213. 
 
 Dixon, Senator Archibald, 175. 
 
 Donegal, County of, 54. 
 
 Donelson, Fort, 218. 
 
 Donner Party, 149. 
 
 Dooly, Judge, 51. 
 
 Dooley, Mr., xiv. 
 
 Doughface, 106. 
 
 Douglas, Stephen A., 103, 105, 
 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172, 173, 
 174, 175, 176, 177, 178, 179, 180, 
 181, 182, 183, 184, 185, 186, 187, 
 188, 189, 190, 191, 210, 246, 248, 
 298. 
 
 Douglas, Dr. S. A., 168. 
 
 Douglasites, 186. 
 
 Dow, Col. Neal, 312. 
 
 Downing, Sir George, 1. 
 
344 
 
 Index 
 
 Downs, S. W., 91. 
 Draft Riots, N. Y., 232. 
 Dresden, 227. 
 Drury's Bluff, 315. 
 Dry Tortugas, 188, 213. 
 Dudley, W. W., 294. 
 Duncan, Gen., 133. 
 Duryea, Abram, 309. 
 Dutch Gap Canal, 315. 
 Dwight, Theodore, 54. 
 
 Early, Jubal A., 274. 
 East Poultney, Vt., 244. 
 Eaton, John H., 59. 
 Eaton, "Peggy," 63. 
 Eaton, Gen. William, 28. 
 Edmunds, George F., 264, 291. 
 Edmunds, John W., 255. 
 Edwards, Jonathan, z. 
 Edwards, Ninian, 45, 46. 
 Edwards, Ninian W., 46. 
 Edwards, Timothy, 1, 2, 4. 
 Egan, Patrick, 296. 
 Eight to Seven, 265. 
 Electorial College, xiii. 
 Electorial Commission, 264. 
 Eliot, Charles W., 292. 
 Ellison, Charlotte, 299. 
 Ellmaker, James, 84. 
 Elskawata, xiv, xix. 
 Emancipation Proclamation, 205, 
 
 310. 
 England, 104, 116, 148, 172, 
 
 203. 
 English Fleet, 149. 
 English, James E., 238, 280. 
 Erie Canal, 230. 
 Erie, ship, 107. 
 Eustis, J. B., 236. 
 Evarts, William M., xviii, 121, 
 
 200, 247, 264. 
 Exeter Academy, 99. 
 Exeter, N. H., 98, nz. 
 
 F 
 
 Faneuil Hall, 119. 
 Fair, J. G., 321. 
 Fairchild, C. S., 267. 
 Fair Oaks, battle of, 219. 
 Farragut, D. G., 138, 139, 312, 
 
 314, 316. 
 Federal Reserve Bank, 320. 
 Federalism, 38. 
 Federalists, 39. 
 Fenian raid, 207. 
 Fessenden, William Pitt, i2z. 
 Field, Stephen J., 264, 271. 
 Fifteenth Amendment, 241. 
 Fillmore, Millard, xiv, 92, 120, 
 
 121, 122, 123, 136, 162, 195. 
 Fish, Sarah, 168. 
 Fisher, Warren, Jr., 284. 
 Florida, 57, 77, 260. 
 Florida, N. Y., 192. 
 Floyd, J. B., 108, 2ii. 
 Ford, Gov. of Illinois, 171. 
 Fourierism, 245. 
 France, 144, 204. 
 Franklin, Gen. W. B., 272. 
 Fremont, John C, 144, 145, 146, 
 
 147, 148, 149, 150, 151, 152, 
 
 153, 154, 155, 156, 157, 158, 159, 
 
 160, 161, 162, 163, 164, 165, 166, 
 
 196, 226, 256. 
 Fremont, John C. Jr., 165. 
 Fremont, Frances, 165. 
 Fremont, Mrs. 158. 
 Free-Soil Democrat, 229. 
 Free-Staters, 161, 178. 
 Free-Soil Party, xv, 104, 105, 106, 
 
 195, 210, 245, 256, 303, 305. 
 Free-Traders, 250. 
 Fredericksburg, Va., 127, 205. 
 French, 126, 205. 
 Frisbie, Miss Annie, 152. 
 Fryeburg, Me., 112. 
 Folger, Charles J., xix, 291. 
 Formance, Joseph, 272. 
 Fort Douglas, Z7Z. 
 
Index 
 
 345 
 
 Fort Fisher, 316. 
 
 Fort George, 128. 
 
 Fort Hill, Ga., 74. 
 
 Fort Lafayette, 235. 
 
 Fort Laramie, 146, 157. 
 
 Fortress Monroe, 138, 309, 310, 
 
 3*7- 
 Fort Moultrie, 138, 139. 
 Fort Warren, 203, 235. 
 Forrest, Gen. N. B., 236. 
 Forsyth, John, 59, 60. 
 "Forward to Richmond," 247. 
 Fowler, killed, 152. 
 Fox, Gustavus V., 140, 141, 311. 
 France, 104, 142. 
 Frederick, Md., 308. 
 Frederickstown, Md., 35. 
 Frelinghuysen, F. T., 264. 
 Frelinghuysen, Theodore, 88. 
 French Revolution, 317. 
 Fugitive Slave Law, 194, 196. 
 
 Gaines, Gen. E. P., 34, 131. 
 Gaines, Myra Clark, 125. 
 Gallatin, Albert, 48. 
 Gates, Gen. Horatio, 13. 
 Garfield, James A., xviii, 264, 
 
 270, 280, 289, 290, 291. 
 Garland, A. H., 236. 
 Gavilan Peak, 151. 
 Georgia, State of, 39, 40, 48, 50, 
 
 5i, 53, 58, 59, 83, 107, 144, 178, 
 
 240, 252. 
 Germans, 135. 
 Gettysburg, battle of, 232. 
 Ghent, 77, 80. 
 
 Gibson, Gen. Randall L., 236. 
 Gillam, Bernhard, 293, 294. 
 Gillespie, Lt. C. W., 153, 155. 
 Gleason, Patrick J., 295. 
 God-like Daniel, no, 114. 
 Gordon, Capt. Nathaniel, 107. 
 Gore, Christopher, 112. 
 Gould, Jay, 294, 295. 
 Governor's Island, 271. 
 
 Graham (gov't agent), 33. 
 
 Graham, William A., 123. 
 
 Grammercy Park, 267. 
 
 Grand Army of the Republic, 270. 
 
 Grant, U. S., xvii, 207, 211, 218, 
 224, 227, 240, 248, 249, 252, 253, 
 270, 271, 272, 277, 279, 315- 
 
 Graystone, 267. 
 
 Guadeloupe-Hidalgo, Treaty of, 
 
 159- 
 
 Gunnison, Capt. J. W., 161. 
 
 Gwin, W. M., 160. 
 
 Great Britain, 54, 73. 
 
 Great Northern R. R., xxi. 
 
 Great Salt Lake, 147. 
 
 Greek Revolution, 112. 
 
 Greeley, Horace, xvii, 78, 140, 
 164, 180, 192, 193, 196, 200, 232, 
 242, 243, 244, 245, 246, 247, 248, 
 249, 250, 251, 252, 253, 254. 
 
 Greeley Square, 253. 
 
 Greeley, Zaccheus, 242. 
 
 Greeley Republicans, 292. 
 
 Green, Ashbel, 264. 
 
 Green, Duff, 61, 63. 
 
 Green River Valley, 147. 
 
 Greenbacks, 237, 238. 
 
 Greenbackers, 321. 
 
 Greenback Party, 280, 321. 
 
 Greenwood Cemetery, 253. 
 
 Grosvenor, Thomas P., 55. 
 
 Grundy, Felix, 67. 
 
 H 
 
 Hackensack, N. J., 7. 
 
 Haiti, 207. 
 
 Hale, John P., 195, 196, 197. 
 
 Half-breeds, 290. 
 
 Halstead, Murat, 249. 
 
 Halleck, Gen. H. W., 218, 221, 
 
 3*3- 
 Hamilton, Alexander, xi, 2, 6, 7, 
 
 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 
 
 20, 59. 
 Hamilton, James A., 59, 61. 
 
346 
 
 Index 
 
 Hamlin, Hannibal, 226, 316. 
 Hammond, Jabez, 52. 
 Hammond, J. H., 65. 
 Hampton, Wade, 236, 239. 
 Hampton, Va., 309. 
 Hamtranck, Col. J. F., 97. 
 Hancock, Benjamin F., 271. 
 Hancock, Col. John, 272. 
 Hancock, Hilary, 272. 
 Hancock, Gen. W. S., 238, 262, 
 
 270, 271, 272, 273, 274, 275, 276, 
 
 277, 278, 279, 280, 317. 
 Hanna, Marcus A., xx, 329. 
 Hanover Court House, battle of, 
 
 219. 
 Hanover, N. H., 112. 
 Hard Cider, 95. 
 Harding, John J., 169, 171. 
 Harding, Warren G., xxiii. 
 Harlan, John M., 286. 
 Harper & Bros., 183. 
 Harper's Weekly, 252. 
 Harriman, S. H., xxi. 
 Harrison, Benjamin, xi, 296. 
 Harrison's Landing, 221. 
 Harrison, William Henry, xiv, 
 
 xix, 24, 85, 86, 95, 99, 101, 114, 
 
 116, 136, 201, 248. 
 Harriet Lane, U.S.S., 310. 
 Harrisburg, Pa., 276. 
 "Harry of the West," 77, 84. 
 Hartranft, J. F., 288. 
 Hayes, Mrs. Lucy Webb, xvii. 
 Hayes, Rutherford B., xvii, xviii, 
 
 166, 241, 262, 263, 264, 265, 270, 
 
 288, 289. 
 Hayne, Robert J., 66, 67, 113, 114, 
 
 117. 
 Hatch, O. M., 223. 
 Hatteras, 311, 312. 
 Hatteras Inlet, 310. 
 Harvard Medicine College, 317. 
 Hearst, William R., 331. 
 Hearst, George, 321. 
 Hendricks, Thomas A., 252, 261, 
 
 271. 
 
 Hermitage, The, 100. 
 Herald, New York, 135, 228. 
 Hewitt, Abram S., 263. 
 Hicks and Hicks, 336. 
 Higginson, Col. T. W., 292. 
 "Higher Law Than The Consti- 
 tution," 195. 
 Hildreth, Sarah, 301. 
 Hill, Gen. A. P., 272. 
 Hill, Benjamin H., 236. 
 Hill, David B., 296, 326, 327. 
 Hill, Sen. D. H., 272. 
 Hill, James J., xx. 
 Hoadley, George, 264. 
 Hoffman, Gov. John T., 251. 
 Hunter, R. M. T., 184. 
 Hoar, George F., 264, 292. 
 Hoar, E. Rockwood, 317, 319. 
 Hoboken, N. J., 336. 
 Hoche, Gen., 140. 
 Hollman, David, 160. 
 Holt, Joseph, 138, 139. 
 Holy Office, 336. 
 Homestead Act, 246. 
 Hone, Philip, 100, 103, 115. 
 Hooker, Gen. Joseph E., 222, 275. 
 Howe, E. W., 338. 
 Howe, Dr. Samuel G., 112. 
 Hosack, Dr. David, 16. 
 Hull, Gen. William, 99. 
 Humboldt, Nevada, 149. 
 Hunker Democrats, 196, 303. 
 Hunt, Washington, 228. 
 Hunton, Eppa, 264. 
 Hurlbert, S. A., 140. 
 Husted, Gen. James W., 258. 
 Hyde, Elder Orson, 120. 
 
 "Ichabod," 119. 
 
 Ide, William B., 152. 
 
 "Illiad of the 19th Century," 136. 
 
 Illinois, 83, 121, 168, 172, 173, 176, 
 
 180. 
 Illinois Central R. R., 209, 213. 
 
Index 
 
 347 
 
 Independent Republicans, 249. 
 Indiana, 251, 264. 
 Indian Territory, 145. 
 Ingersoll, Col. R. G., 286, 287. 
 Ingham, Samuel D., 64. 
 "Irrepressible Conflict," 197. 
 Irish, 134, 135, 297. 
 Irishmen, 135. 
 Iowa, 174. 
 Izard's Regiment, 128. 
 
 Jackson, Andrew, xiii, 21, 23, 43, 
 48, 49, 50, 53, 57, 58, 59, 60, 
 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 
 76, 77, 78, 83, 84, 85, 86, 88, 
 89, 95, 100, 104, 116, 129, 130, 
 144, 168, 178, 260, 268. 
 
 Jackson, David S., 246. 
 
 Jackson, Fort, 312. 
 
 Jackson Guard, 305. 
 
 Jacksonian, 86, 88. 
 
 Jackson, Thomas J. (Stonewall), 
 272. 
 
 Jacksonville, Fla., 168, 173, 324. 
 
 Jamaica, 32. 
 
 Jay, John, 10, 11. 
 
 Jesup, Gen. Thomas S., 82. 
 
 Jefferson Barracks, 273. 
 
 Jefferson, Thomas, xi, xii, 10, 11, 
 13, 20, 21, 24, 25, 27, 28, 32, 35, 
 36, 38, 47, 99, 206, 260. 
 
 Jefferson's Bill of Rights, 177. 
 
 Jeffersonians, 17, 53. 
 
 Jekyl Island, Ga., 107. 
 
 Johannesburg, 258. 
 
 Johnson, Andrew, xvii, 184, 206. 
 207, 226, 248, 316. 
 
 Johnston, wounded, 155. 
 
 Johnston, Gen. Joseph E., 316. 
 
 Johnston, Gen. Albert S., 273. 
 
 Joineville, Prince de, 219. 
 
 Jones, Col. C. H., 326, 331, '332. 
 
 Jones, Col. E. F., 308. 
 
 Jordan, Conrad N., 266, 
 
 Joy, James F., 289. 
 
 Judiciary Committee, 284, 285, 
 
 299. 
 Jumel, Madam, 36. 
 
 Kansas, xv, 146, 161, 175, 177, 
 
 178, 179. 
 Kansas River, 158. 
 Kansas-Nebraska, 133, 136, 173, 
 
 174, 175, 176, 177, 245. 
 Kanawha, 211. 
 Kearney, Gen. S. W., 155, 156, 
 
 157. 
 Keene, Col. R. R., 45. 
 Kelly, John, 261. 
 Kennebec, 4, 300. 
 Kennebec Journal, 282. 
 Kerman, Francis, 261, 262. 
 Kerr, Michael C, 260, 282. 
 Kent, Judge, 14. 
 Kent, William, 257. 
 Kentucky, 28, 68, 79, 136, 175, 
 
 227, 282. 
 Key West, 188. 
 Kinderhook, 68, 255. 
 King, Preston, 139, 199. 
 King, William R., 91, 106. 
 Kingsbridge, 7. 
 Kiokee Creek, 40. 
 Klamath Indians, 151. 
 Knott, Proctor, 285. 
 Know-Nothings, 161, 199, 229. 
 Know-Nothing Party, xv, 303. 
 Knox, Gen. Henry, 6. 
 Knox, John, 2. 
 Ku-Klux-Klan, 229, 271, 334. 
 
 Lamon, Ward Lt., 140. 
 Lane, Gen. Joseph, 184. 
 Larkins, Thomas O., 150, 151. 
 Las Vegas, Nev., 148. 
 
348 
 
 Index 
 
 Latin-America, 81. 
 
 Law, George, '310. 
 
 Lawrence, Kan., 201. 
 
 League of Nations, xxii. 
 
 Leavenworth, Fort, 273. 
 
 Lecompton Constitution, 177, 178, 
 179. 
 
 Ledger, Philadelphia, 161. 
 
 Lee, Gen. Charles, 7. 
 
 Lee, Gen. Robert E., 221, 222. 
 
 Legislature, New York, xviii, 12. 
 
 Leggett, William, 268. 
 
 Lejuenesse', Basil, 151. 
 
 Leland, Charles G., 141. 
 
 Leopard, H.B.M.S., 127. 
 
 Lewis, W. B., 59, 60, 61. 
 
 Lexington, Ky., 79, 83, 84, 87. 
 
 Lexington, Mass., 4. 
 
 Liberia, Republic of, 80. 
 
 Libby Prison, 288. 
 
 Lincoln, Abraham, xv, xvi, xvii, 
 17, 138, 139, 142, 162, 163, 164, 
 167, 169, 176, 180, 181, 187, 
 188, 190, 192, 202, 204, 205, 
 209, 213, 214, 215, 217, 218, 
 222, 223, 224, 225, 226, 227, 
 232, 234, 235, 237, 239, 247, 
 248, 249, 256, 274, 277, 311, 
 
 315- 
 Lincoln-Douglas debate, 182. 
 Lincoln, Neb., 324, 330, 332. 
 Litchfield, Conn., 4, 54. 
 "Little Black Dan," no. 
 "Little Giant," 167, 169, 188, 190. 
 Little Rock and Fort Smith R. R. 
 
 283. 
 Lodge, Henry Cabot, 292. 
 Log Cabin, the, 243. 
 Log Cabin and Hard Cider, 95, 
 
 201. 
 Logan, Gen. John A., 292. 
 London, 160, 162. 
 Long Branch, N. J., 232. 
 Long Island City, 295. 
 Longstreet, Gen. James, 272, 274. 
 Los Angeles, 155, 156, 166, 273. 
 
 Louisiana, 164, 252, 263, 314. 
 Louisiana Purchase, xii, 80, 206. 
 Louisiana Territory, 19. 
 Lowell Guards, 305. 
 Lowell, James Russell, 201. 
 Lowell, Mass., 300, 302, 303, 319. 
 Lundy's Lane, 126, 128, 135. 
 Lyon, Matthew, 20, 21. 
 Lyons, France, 144. 
 
 M 
 
 Macon, Nathaniel, 48, 50. 
 
 Mackay, John W., 321. 
 
 Madison, James, xii, 10, 36, 41, 
 43, 56, 260. 
 
 Mafia Murders, 296. 
 
 Magum, Willis P., 91, 115. 
 
 Maine, 4, 121, 130, 282, 296, 297. 
 
 Maine Boundary, 116. 
 
 Maine Law, 134. 
 
 Maine, Second Regiment Muti- 
 nous, 213. 
 
 Malcom, Col., 6. 
 
 Malvern Hill, Battle of, 221. 
 
 Mallory, Col., 309. 
 
 Mangan, Patrick, 35. 
 
 Mansfield, Gen., 222. 
 
 Manhattan Island, 5. 
 
 Marble, Manton, 239, 261. 
 
 Marcy, Capt, R. B., 209. 
 
 Marcy, Mary Ellen, 209. 
 
 Marcy, William L., 105, 133, 193, 
 228, 256. 
 
 Mariposa, 150. 
 
 Mariposa Grant, 150, 159, 162, 
 165. 
 
 Marietta, O., 33, 99. 
 
 Marion, O., xxiii. 
 
 Marshall, John, 34, 79. 
 
 Marshall, James Wilson, 158. 
 
 Marshall, Thomas F., 193. 
 
 Marshfield, 123, 124. 
 
 Martin, Luther, 34. 
 
 Marvin, Jacob, 55* 
 
Index 
 
 349 
 
 Maryland, 35, 101, 221, 240, 252, 
 
 274, 308. 
 Mason, Col., 157. 
 Mason and Dixon's Line, 138, 
 
 Mason, J. M., 73, 91, 118. 
 Mason and Slidell, 203. 
 Masonic Hall, 115. 
 Massachusetts, 84, 112, 119, 123, 
 
 136, 184, 264, 303, 304, 305, 
 
 306, 311, 314, 317. 
 McClellan, Gen. George B., 137, 
 
 142, 208, 209, 210, 211, 212, 
 
 213, 214, 215, 216, 217, 218, 
 
 219, 220, 221, 222, 223, 224, 
 
 225, 226, 227, 235, 257, 272, 
 
 274, 275. 
 McClellan, Mayor George B., 
 
 227. 
 McClellan, Dr. George, 208. 
 McClernand, Gen. John A., 261. 
 McDonald, J. E., 236, 271. 
 McDougall, J. A., 171. 
 McDougall, Walter, 271. 
 McGovern, Capt. John, 139. 
 McKinley, William, xx, 272. 
 Maryland, 227. 
 Matthews, Stanley, 250, 264. 
 Maywood, 227. 
 
 Maximillian, Emperor, 204, 206. 
 Meagher, Thomas F., 275. 
 Memphis, El Paso and Pacific 
 
 R. R., 165. 
 Medill, Joseph, 249. 
 Meredicia, 111., 173. 
 Merrick, R. T., 264. 
 Merritt, Ezekiel, 152. 
 Methodists, 73. 
 Metternich, 259. 
 Mexico, 28, 72, 98, 102, 117, 131, 
 
 135, 147, 148, 151, 170, 171, 
 
 172, 193, 205, 209. 
 Mexico City, 132, 273. 
 Mexican, 135, 147, 151, 152, 153, 
 
 156, 206. 
 Mexican Territory, 98. 
 
 Mexican War, xiv, 72-95, 117, 
 
 131, 135, 159, 171, 173, 272. 
 Miami, Fla., 335, 338. 
 Michigan, 98, 101, 262. 
 Michigan, Lake, 173. 
 Michigander, 108, 109. 
 Middlebury, Vt., 168. 
 Mikado, xiv. 
 Military Department of the East, 
 
 271. 
 Mill-boy of the Slashes, 79. 
 Miller, Samuel F., 264. 
 Minister to France, 103. 
 Minnesota, 174. 
 Miranda, Francisco, 25, 26. 
 Missouri, 56, 80, 83, 93, 146, 163, 
 
 174, 175- 
 Missouri Compromise, xv, 57, 70, 
 
 174, 175, 176. 
 Missouri Independents, 249. 
 Missouri river, 56. 
 Mississippi, 32, 75, 83, 137, 172, 
 
 178, 240, 252. 
 Mississippi river, 59, 312. 
 Mississippi, U.S.S., 308. 
 Mitchell, John W., 144. 
 Mobile', Ala., 312. 
 Mohegan, 292 
 Molino del Rey, 288. 
 Moncrieffe, Margaret, 6. 
 Monroe Doctrine, xiii, 43, 81, 83. 
 Monroe, James, xii, 10, 39, 40, 
 
 42, 56, 60, 61, 63. 
 Monterey, 66, 150, 154, 155. 
 Montezuma, 204. 
 Montezumas, Halls of, 132. 
 Montgomery, Ala., 202. 
 Montgomery County, Pa., 271. 
 Montgomery, Commander, 154. 
 Montgomery, Gen. James, 4, 5. 
 Monticello, 47. 
 Montreal, 5. 
 Mooney, William, 9. 
 Moore, Risdon, 153. 
 Moore, wounded, 155. 
 Morgan County, 111., 168. 
 
350 
 
 Index 
 
 Morgan, E. D., 247. 
 Morgan, William, 193. 
 Mormon, 158, 170, 172, 273. 
 Mormonism, 170, 171, 172. 
 Morris, Gouverneur, 10. 
 Morris Island, 139. 
 Morse, A. P., 264. 
 Morton, Levi P., 290. 
 Morton, Oliver P., 264, 271. 
 Moltey, John L., 249. 
 Mugwumps, 292. 
 Mulligan, James, 288, 293. 
 Mumford, W. B., 312. 
 Mutiny, 157. 
 
 N 
 
 National Spectator, The, 244. 
 Napoleon, Emperor, xii, 22, 41, 
 
 149. 
 Napoleon, Louis, 205, 206, 314. 
 Napoleonic, 164. 
 Nasby, Petroleum V., 191. 
 Nashville, Tenn., 22, 33, 59, 64, 
 
 100, 114, 144. 
 Nast, Thomas, 252. 
 Natchez, U.S.S., 145. 
 Natchez, 23, 33. 
 National Americans, 123. 
 National Arts Club, 267. 
 National Chairman, 262. 
 National Committee, 263. 
 National Convention, 119. 
 National Intelligencer, The, 246. 
 National Republicans, 83. 
 Nauroo, 111., 170. 
 Nebraska, 146. 
 New Gospel of Peace, 234. 
 Newark, N. J., 2. 
 New Brunswick, 130. 
 Newburyport, Mass., 4. 
 New England, 119, 178. 
 New Hampshire, hi, 112, 299. 
 New Helvetia, 149. 
 New Jersey, 121, 166, 227, 240, 
 
 264, 295. 
 
 New Mexico, 118, 149, 172, 194. 
 
 New Orleans, 21, 32, 79, 164. 
 
 New Orleans Delta, 133. 
 
 Neuces River, 148. 
 
 New York City, 5, 6, 65, 136, 268. 
 
 New York Daily News, 234. 
 
 New York Evening Express, 234. 
 
 Ne<w Yorker, 243, 244. 
 
 New York State, 105, 121, 166, 
 
 240, 295, 296. 
 New York Times, 229, 243, 310. 
 New York Tribune, 119, 242, 243, 
 
 245, 246, 248, 249, 252, 267. 
 Nevada, 148, 321, 326. 
 Niagara, 128. 
 Nicollet, Jean F., 145, 146. 
 Niblo's Saloon, 116. 
 Nicaragua, 106. 
 Norfolk, Va., 145. 
 Norristown, Pa., 272, 276, 281. 
 North Africa, 28. 
 Northern Press, 119. 
 Northwest, 145. 
 North West Territory, 100. 
 Nuevo Leon, 66. 
 Nullification, 66, 67. 
 Nullifiers, 268. 
 
 O'Connor, Charles, 256, 258, 264. 
 Ogden, Matthias, 3. 
 Ogden, Young, 32. 
 Oglesby, Gov. R. J., 211. 
 Oglethorpe County, Ga., 40. 
 Ohio, 96, 115, 121, 122, 139, 175, 
 
 232, 264. 
 Ohio Idea, The, 238, 239. 
 Ohio Indians, 99. 
 Ohio Legislature, 99. 
 Ohio and Mississippi R. R., 209. 
 Ohio River, 99. 
 Old Bullion, 93. 
 Old White Hat, 242. 
 Olmstead, Frederick Law, 251. 
 Old Cock-eye, 299. 
 
Index 
 
 35i 
 
 Old Fuss and Feathers, 125, 134. 
 
 Old Hickory, 81. 
 
 Oregon, 116, 146, 148, 170, 173, 
 
 184, 240, 264. 
 Oregon Boundary, 172. 
 Osgood, Samuel, 112. 
 Orcutt, E. B., 267. 
 Ord, Sen. E. O. C, 272. 
 Orpheus, 113. 
 Orton, William, 253. 
 Ottendorfer, Oswald, 251. 
 Oxford County, Me., 112. 
 
 Pacific Coast, 148. 
 
 Pacific Railway, 173. 
 
 Pacific Squadron, 152. 
 
 Packer, Asa, 238. 
 
 Palmer, H. M., 236. 
 
 Palmer and Buckner, 329. 
 
 Palmer, John M., 329. 
 
 Palmerston, Lord, 143, 313. 
 
 Panama, 81, 158. 
 
 Paraguay, 107. 
 
 Paramus, N. J., 7. 
 
 Parker, Alton B., x, 331, 332. 
 
 Parker, John, 261. 
 
 Parker, Theodore, 74, 119, 120. 
 
 Paris, 142, 160, 165. 
 
 Parowan, 161. 
 
 Parris, E. L., 267. 
 
 Parton, James, 9, 313. 
 
 Pathfinder, 144, 166. 
 
 Patterson, William, 3. 
 
 Patterson, Robert E., 329. 
 
 Peabody, George, 160. 
 
 Pei-ho river, 107. 
 
 Pelton, W. T., 267. 
 
 Pendleton, George H., 225, 236, 
 
 238, 239. 
 Pendleton, Nathan, 16. 
 Pennsylvania, State, xv, 99, 105, 
 
 178, 264. 
 Penrose, Boies, xxiii. 
 Pensacola, Fla., 34, 203. 
 
 Perry, Commodore, M. C, xiv, 
 
 13*1 132- 
 Petersburg, Va., 128, 227, 315. 
 Phelps, Samuel S., 91. 
 Philadelphia, 161, 240, 303. 
 Phillips Academy, in. 
 Phillips, Wendell, 199. 
 Pierce, Franklin, xiv, xv, 96, 106, 
 
 121, 134, 135, 136, 173, 175, 208, 
 
 229. 
 Piermont on the Hudson, 166. 
 Pillow, Gen. Gideon J., 133. 
 Pinckney, Thomas, 39. 
 Pine Tree State, 282. 
 Pio Pico, Gov., 150, 156. 
 Pitt, William, 28. 
 Pittsburgh, 99. 
 
 Piatt, Thomas C, 289, 290, 291. 
 Plattsburg, N. Y., 127. 
 Pleasanton, Sen. A. J., 272. 
 Plumed Knight, 287, 295. 
 Polk, James K., xiv, 88, 89, 95, 
 
 96, 97, 98, 102, 117, 132, 133, 
 
 148, 154, 158, 171. 
 Poinsett, Joel R., 145. 
 Pompey, N. Y., 228. 
 Pope, Gen. John, 165. 
 Popular Sovereignty, 183, 188, 
 
 190, 245. 
 Porter, Commodore D. D., 316. 
 Port Hudson, 232. 
 Portsmouth, N. H., 112. 
 Portsmouth, U.S.S., 152, 153. 
 Portland, Me., 107, 306. 
 Post-Dispatch, St. Louis, 326, 330, 
 
 332. 
 Postmaster General, 165, 227, 
 
 247. 
 Powell, Lewis Payne, 205. 
 Presbyterian Church, 335. 
 Preston, Sen. William, 236, 239. 
 Prevost, Theodosia, 7, 8. 
 Price, Gen. Stirling, 163. 
 Prim, Gen. 219. 
 Prince of Peace, 320, 332, 337. 
 Prince of Wales, 335. 
 
352 
 
 Index 
 
 Princeton, N. J., 36. 
 Princeton College, 2, 3, 129. 
 Princeton, U.S.S., 71. 
 Proctor, L. B., 229, 230. 
 Presidency, 119. 
 Prohibition, 196, 312. 
 Prohibition Party, 335. 
 Prussia, 104. 
 Pryor, Major John, 144. 
 Pryor, Roger A., 275. 
 Puck, 293. 
 
 Putman, Gen. Israel, 5, 6. 
 Pulitzer, Joseph, 249, 250, 282, 
 330, 332. 
 
 Quebec, 4, 5. 
 
 Queenstown, Battle of, 128. 
 
 Rail-Splitter, 201. 
 
 Randall, Samuel, J., 260, 261, 271. 
 
 Randolph, John (of Roanoke), 46, 
 
 50, 54, 56, 81, 82. 
 Raymond, Henry J., 243, 310. 
 Rebel Brigadiers, 282. 
 Rebellion, 164. 
 Reconstruction, 241, 316. 
 Red River, 272. 
 Reeve, Tapping, 2, 4, 54. 
 Reid, John C, 263. 
 Reid, Whitelaw, 250. 
 Reno, Gen. J. L., 272. 
 Republic of California, 152. 
 Republican National Convention, 
 
 161, 186, 199, 270, 284. 
 Republicans, 138, 167, 264, 266. 
 Republican Party, xv, xxi, 121, 
 
 139, 161, 176, 182, 196, 230. 
 Revolution, 168. 
 Reynolds, Gen. J. F., 272. 
 Rhett, R. B., 236. 
 Rhodes, James Ford, 199, 206, 
 
 231, 285. 
 
 Richardson, Albert D., 188, 189, 
 
 274. 
 Richardson, Gen. I. B., 222, 274. 
 Richmond, Dean, 257. 
 Richmond Hill, 5, 8, 12, 16. 
 Richmond, Va., 117, 129, 219, 309, 
 
 316. 
 Ringold, Finch, 60. 
 Rio Grande, 148, 151, 153, 154. 
 Robertson, Dr. John, 145. 
 Robertson, W. H., 290. 
 Robinson, E. T., 205. 
 Rockies, The, 146, 159. 
 Rockland Cemetery, 166. 
 Roman Proconsuls, 116. 
 Roosevelt, Theodore, xx, xxi, 291, 
 
 330, 338. 
 Rousseau, J. J., 317. 
 Royal Gorge, 149. 
 Russell, Miss Almira, 273. 
 Russell, Earl, 203, 204. 
 Russell, William E., 327. 
 Russia, 205. 
 
 S 
 
 Sacramento, Cal., 151. 
 Salisbury, N. H., no, in, 112. 
 Salt Lake City, 161, 171. 
 San Francisco, 158, 159. 
 San Francisco Bay, 149, 165. 
 Santa Anna, 96, 131. 
 San Diego, 156. 
 Saratoga, in. 
 Sargeant, John, 81, 83. 
 Sargent, Thomas D., 160. 
 Savannah, Ga., 144. 
 Schofield, Gen., 164. 
 Schuyler, Philip, 9, n. 
 Schurz, Carl, 165, 250, 251. 
 Scopes, J. J., 336. 
 Scott, Dred, 176, 182, 306. 
 Scott, Thomas A., 284, 285. 
 Scott, Gen. Winfield, 45, 96, 121, 
 122, 125, 126, 127, 128, 129, 130, 
 
Index 
 
 353 
 
 *3*. 132, 133, 134, 135, 136, 137. 
 138, 139, 140, 141, 142, I43..2", 
 
 212, 213, 214, 215, 2l8, 308, 309, 
 
 3"- 
 
 Secretary of the Navy, 108. 
 Secretary of State, 86, 106, 109, 
 
 116, 121, 205, 296. 
 Secretary of the Treasury, 42, 43, 
 
 132, 139, 299. 
 Secretary of War, 42, 43, 108, 
 
 Hi, 145, H8, 222, 257. 
 Secession, 321. 
 Seminole Indians, 130. 
 Seraraes, Raphael, 132. 
 Senate, U. S., 109, 117, 130, 175, 
 
 179, 206, 265. 
 Seward, F. W., 205. 
 Seward, William H., xii, xxvi, 90, 
 
 121, 123, i39, 172, 187, 190, 192, 
 
 193, 194, 195, 196, 197, 198, 
 
 199, 200, 201, 202, 203, 204, 
 
 205, 206, 207, 211, 213, 216, 217, 
 
 240, 242, 243, 245, 246, 248, 
 
 249. 
 Seymour, Horatio, 228, 229, 230, 
 
 231, 232, 233, 234, 235, 236, 237, 
 
 238, 239, 240, 241, 252. 
 Shasta, Mt., 151. 
 Shawnees, xiv. 
 Shields, James, 175, 176. 
 Shellabaerger, Samuel, 264. 
 Shenandoah Valley, 165. 
 Sherman, John, xx. 
 Sherman's March, 227. 
 Shepley, George F., 306. 
 Ship Island, 312. 
 Sierra Nevada, 147, 149. 
 Sinclair, Samuel, 253. 
 Sing Sing prison, 193. 
 Sixth Massachusetts Regiment, 
 
 308. 
 Skeddadlers, 271. 
 Slashes, The, 79. 
 Sloat, Commodore J. D., 151, 154, 
 
 155. 
 Smith, Lt., 32. 
 
 Smith, Joseph, Mormon Prophet, 
 
 170. 
 Smith, Thomas, 8. 
 Smith, William, of Ga., 53. 
 Smith, William, 301, 302. 
 Sonoma, 152, 153, 154. 
 South American, 145. 
 South Carolina, xiii, 39, 83, 84, 
 
 178, 263. 
 Southern Confederacy, 188. 
 South Mountains, battle of, 222. 
 South Pass, 146. 
 Spanish, 99. 
 
 Sprague, Kate Chase, xvii. 
 Spring, Samuel, 3. 
 Spring, William, 264. 
 Springfield, 111., 173, 232. 
 St. Croix, 207. 
 St. Domingo, 207, 261. 
 St. Louis, 157, 158. 
 St. Philip, Ft., 312. 
 St. Thomas, 207. 
 Stanton, Edwin M., xvi, 215, 220, 
 
 226, 234. 
 Stockton, Commodore R. F., 154, 
 
 155, 156. 
 Starke, Gen. John, in. 
 Star of the West, 139. 
 Stars and Stripes, 154. 
 Stephens, Alexander H., 123. 
 Sterling, Lord, 7. 
 Stevens, Mrs. Paran, 302. 
 Stevens, Thaddeus, xvii. 
 Stewart, William M., 241. 
 Stock Exchange, N. Y., xix. 
 Stoeckl, Baron, 206. 
 Story, Francis V., 244. 
 Stoughton, E. W., 264. 
 Sub-Treasury, 257. 
 Sumner, Charles, 190, 195, 248, 
 
 249, 3i3» 3i7. 
 Sumter, Fort, 141, 162, 203, 307. 
 Sun, New York, 266. 
 "Superb" The, 270, 274. 
 Sutter's Fort, 148, 149, 153. 
 Sutter, John A., 147, 153, 158. 
 
354 
 
 Index 
 
 Swartwouts, 9. 
 
 Swartwout, Samuel, 18, 31, 33, 
 
 78. 
 Swiss, 149. 
 
 Tammany Hall, 9, 236, 292. 
 
 Taft, W. H., xxi, 332. 
 
 Taney, Roger, 176, 182, 185, 190, 
 
 205. 
 Taos, 159. 
 
 Tariff Discrimination, 169. 
 Tarrytown, N. Y., 165. 
 Tattnall, Col., 82. 
 Tattnall, Commodore Josiah, 107. 
 Tattooed Man, 293, 294. 
 Taylor, Zachary, xiv, 27, 72, 90, 
 
 92, 95, 96, 97, 98, 103, 105, 152, 
 
 133, 136, 172, 194, 195. 
 Tecumseh, 99. 
 Tennessean, 130. 
 Tennessee, State of, 67, 95, 136, 
 
 144, 252, 316. 
 Tenth Military District, 129. 
 Terry, Gen. A. H., 316. 
 Texas, 88, 89, 98, 101, 148, 164, 
 
 170, 171, 172, 174, 240, 252. 
 Tewksbury, Almshouse', 317. 
 Tilden, Samuel Jones, 255, 256, 
 
 257, 258, 259, 260, 261, 262, 263, 
 
 264, 265, 266, 267, 268. 
 Todd, Gov. David, 186. 
 Tompkins, Gov. Daniel D., 39. 
 Tombs, N. Y., prison, 107. 
 Toombs, Robert, 123, 201. 
 Topeka Constitution, 177. 
 Tories, 7. 
 Totten, Geti., 137. 
 Toucey, Isaac, 108, 109. 
 Touloumne River, 151. 
 Towson, Fort, 272. 
 Thames, Battle of, 99. 
 Treaty of Couenga, 156. 
 Tremont Temple, 317. 
 Treasury Department, 320. 
 
 Trenton, N. J., 123, 223, 224, 227. 
 Trescott, W. H., 108. 
 Trumbull, Lyman, 176, 250, 253, 
 
 264. 
 Truxton, Commodore Thomas, 17, 
 
 28. 
 Tweed, William M., 252, 257, 
 
 261, 269. 
 Twenty Years of Congress, 236, 
 
 296. 
 Tyler, Comfort, 28. 
 Tyler, John, xiv, 71, 72, 85, 86, 87, 
 
 95, 116, 117, 120, 248. 
 
 U 
 
 Ullman, Daniel, 229. 
 
 Union, 143, 173, 231, 246. 
 
 Union College, 193. 
 
 Union Convention, 123. 
 
 United States, 104, 108, 127, 148, 
 
 170, 177, 188, 225, 307. 
 United States Naval Academy, 
 
 3i9- 
 
 United States Navy, 153. 
 
 Universalist, 254. 
 
 University of Pennsylvania, 208. 
 
 Upshur, John H., 71. 
 
 Utah, 118, 148, 194. 
 
 Utica, N. Y., 228, 229, 241. 
 
 Van Allen, Lawrence, 47. 
 
 Van Buren, Martin, xiii, 44, 45, 
 
 47, 48, 65, 68, 69, 85, 88, 95, 
 
 101, 104, 115, 130, 169, 193, 196, 
 
 228, 256, 260, 268, 301. 
 Vance, Zebulon B., 236. 
 Van Ness, William P., 14, 15, 16. 
 Van Nesses, 9. 
 Vanity Fair, 141. 
 Vallandigham, C. L., 225, 235, 
 
 236. 
 Vallejo, Gov., 152. 
 Valley Forge, 7. 
 
Index 
 
 355 
 
 Valhalla, 7. 
 
 Valparaiso, Chile, 296. 
 
 Van Renssalaer, 228, 
 
 Venezuela, xx, 299. 
 
 Vermont, 136, 264. 
 
 Vera Cruz, 96, 131, 132. 
 
 Vicksburg, 232. 
 
 Victoria, Queen, 143. 
 
 Vilas, William F., 261, 327. 
 
 Virgin Islands, 206. 
 
 Virginia, 128, 129, 172, 200, 240, 
 
 309. 
 Virginia Ham, 126. 
 Virginian, 127. 
 Villa Serena, 335. 
 Voorhees, Daniel W., 236, 261. 
 Volstead, xvii. 
 Voltaire, 317. 
 
 W 
 
 Wade, Benjamin F., xvii, 248. 
 
 Wakefield, Ala., 34. 
 
 Walker Lake, 149, 150. 
 
 Walker, Robert J., 97, 132, 178. 
 
 Walker Tariff, 105. 
 
 Wallace, Gen. Lew, 227. 
 
 Wall Street, 199. 
 
 Walker, William, 106. 
 
 Walpole, Lt. 154. 
 
 War Democrats, 225. 
 
 War Department, 311. 
 
 Ward, Artemus, xxiii. 
 
 Warner's Ranch, 155. 
 
 Warren, Charles H., 301. 
 
 Warren, W. B., 171. 
 
 Washington, D. C, 21, 74, 77, 
 107, 127, 130, 132, i35, 136, 137, 
 139, 147, 151, 153, 154, 155, 157, 
 160, 161, 163, 194, 195, 202, 221, 
 233, 273. 
 
 Washington, Bushrod, 93. 
 
 Washingtonian movement, 229. 
 
 Washington, George, xi, xii, 5, 
 6, 7, 10. 
 
 Washita, 27. 
 
 Washita, Fort, 272. 
 
 Waterville, Me., 300. 
 
 Watkins, Henry, 79. 
 
 Watterson, Col. Henry, 261, 263. 
 
 Wayne, Pa., 244. 
 
 Weaver, James B., xix, 321. 
 
 Webb, James Watson, 193. 
 
 Webb, William Seward, 193. 
 
 Webster, Daniel, xxiv, 66, 68, 70, 
 74, 85, 86, 91, 92, no, in, 112, 
 113, 114, 115, 116, 117, "8, 119, 
 120, 121, 122, 123, 124, 126, 
 127, 130, 136, 169, 172, 173, 181, 
 190, 194, 195, 268, 295. 
 
 Webster, Ebenezer, no, in. 
 
 Webster, Edward, 117. 
 
 Webster, Ezekiel, n. 
 
 Weed, Smith M., 267. 
 
 Weed, Thurlow, 140, 142, 193, 
 196, 199, 200, 201, 203, 230, 231, 
 242, 245, 247, 250, 253, 313. 
 
 Weehawken, N. J., 16. 
 
 Welles, Gideon, xvi. 
 
 West, John T., 244- 
 
 West Brownsville, Pa., 282. 
 
 West Point, 143, 208, 209, 272, 
 300, 305. 
 
 Western Union Tel. Co., 253, 294. 
 
 Wells, David A., 251. 
 
 Wheeler, William A., 261, 288. 
 
 Whig Convention, 121, 133. 
 
 Whig, 115, 134, 139, 195, 228. 
 
 Whiggery, 103. 
 
 Whigs, 72, 83, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 
 96, 116, 117, 134, 136, 161, 162, 
 168, 176, 187, 194, 228, 242, 243, 
 248. 
 
 Whig Party, xv, 95, 133, 302. 
 
 Whig Press, 120, 243, 245, 247. 
 
 "Whispering Sammy," 303, 305. 
 
 White, Andrew D., 292. 
 
 White, Richard Grant, 234. 
 
 White House, xiii, 127, 180, 207, 
 217, 311. 
 
 White River, 149. 
 
 Whiting, Anna, 144. 
 
356 
 
 Index 
 
 Whitney, Asa, 173. 
 Whitney, Eli, 131. 
 Whitney Rifles, 131. 
 Whitney, William C, 264. 
 Whittier, J. C, 119. 
 Wickham, John, 34. 
 Wild Cat Currency, 320. 
 Wilderness, 276. 
 Wilderness Campaign, 315. 
 Williams, "Bill," 159. 
 Wilkes, Capt. Charles, 203. 
 Wilkinson, Gen. James, 12, 19, 
 
 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 
 
 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 
 
 127, 128. 
 Wilmot, David, 200. 
 Wilmot Proviso, 194, 260. 
 Wilson, Henry, 251, 253. 
 Wilson, Woodrow, xvi, xxi, xxii, 
 
 xxiii, 207, 338. 
 Willet, Marinus, 28. 
 Williamsburg, Va., 79, 127, 219, 
 
 274. 
 William and Mary, 127. 
 Winchester, 111., 168. 
 Windom, William, 290. 
 Wind River Range, 146. 
 Winner, Septimus, 226. 
 Winthrop, Robert C, 235. 
 Winthrop, Theodore, 309, 310. 
 Wirt, William, 34, 78, 84. 
 
 Wise, Henry A., 211. 
 Wolfe, Gen. James, 140. 
 Wood, Dr. Samuel, ill. 
 Woodbury, Levi, 102. 
 Wood, Gen. John E., 310. 
 World, N. Y., 239, 292, 293, 296, 
 
 308, 311, 313. 
 Worth, Gen., 133. 
 Wright, Silas, 102, 228. 
 Wythe, George, 79. 
 
 Yancey, William L., 55, 103, 186. 
 
 Yates, Joseph C, 7. 
 
 Yeadon, Richard, 314. 
 
 Yellowstone, 56. 
 
 Yerba Buena, 150, 151, 152, 154. 
 
 Yonkers, N. Y., 267. 
 
 Yorktown, 168. 
 
 Young, Brigham, 161, 171, 172, 
 
 273. 
 
 Young Men's Christian Associa- 
 tion, 335. 
 
 Young Men's Convention, 83. 
 
 Zanesville, O., 99. 
 Zouaves, Duryea's, 309.